#This was longer than I meant to make it - oops | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dallaji · 6 months

Text

Hope we make it to the Cloud.

♡ bada lee x idol!reader / NSFW❗

SUMMARY: Amidst an identity crisis, you try to adequately prepare for your solo comeback. The lyrics have already been perfected, the song recorded and the visuals pinpointed. However, your creative team is not fully convinced by the choreography you came up with. They decide to send over one Bada Lee to help you finetune your jumbled ideas and bring harmony to your vision. You just have one specific request: the routine must include a trampoline.

WORD COUNT: 10k

CW: eventual smut, bada is 100% a giver and not a receiver in this jsyk (but i promise it makes sense in context), hinted voyeurism.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was meant to be pure smut but it became much longer than i intended ... oops for that . . . lets just roll with it!!1 also the choreo described is heavily inspired by tinashes bouncin.

- you don't care about those 7k words worth of boring build up? skip to this line: <After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?”>

————— ୨୧ —————

The first thing you notice is how surprisingly gentle her voice is.

“I’m Bada, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

Bada Lee stood tall in front of you, clad in an oversized jersey, cargo pants and a cap hugging her forehead in such a way her eyes were entirely obscured from your view. She promptly bowed after she spoke. Unsure where to look, you dropped your gaze and followed suit; vaguely aware of her seniority and bowing deeper.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” You tried to keep your own voice as neutral as possible, but agitation bubbled in your chest as you felt your manager’s prodding, eager eyes behind you. “Thanks for being here.”

Your team was much more excited about this collaboration than you were.

None of the aggravation you felt was Bada’s fault. It had been three weeks of your creative team dismissing every choreo draft you came up with: Three weeks of sleepless nights at the dance studio, tiring out yourself and your background dancers. Three weeks of browsing through videos sent in by other choreographers across the country, attempting to mix bits and pieces together but none of it ever feeling right. Three weeks filled with reminders of a deadline looming over your head. Three weeks of your team letting you know they had little confidence in this comeback. Your last attempt at showing them what you had come up with had ended up in a shouting match. Your manager, who you otherwise got along with just fine, bluntly stated that, perhaps, this concept simply wasn’t something you could pull off.

It had left you feeling betrayed. Your creative team had agreed it was time for you to approach a more mature concept, something that you felt was years overdue. But it seemed their definition of mature and yours were wildly different. You had worked hard on perfecting a set of songs to choose from, but you immediately butted heads with the rest of the team. You wanted to do the bouncy and playful R&B track. Your team wanted the EDM track. Eventually they relented, but now seemed hellbent on making it as difficult as possible for your vision to come to fruition. Putting together the visual board for the concept photos and the eventual music video was a similarly arduous process. You had to meet in the middle and sacrifice a lot of your initial ideas, but that procedure was almost pleasant compared to what you were dealing with in regards to the choreography.

Every idea you put forward was promptly shut down. Too complicated. Too boring. No TikTok challenge potential. Too sexy.

And maybe it was true. Your formations weren’t as clean as the ones thought up by a professional choreographer, but you weren’t really given a chance at all. It wasn’t like you were a bad dancer either. Far from it. You picked up choreos incredibly fast and had always played an active part in brainstorming past routines alongside your background dancers. You had more experience than most of your peers, yet you were treated as if you were still the same teenaged trainee from years ago.

“Is that really how you all feel?” You had whispered after your manager dropped that bombshell, searching for an answer in the facial expressions of your creative team. Most of them were not even willing to meet your eyes. “We just need to be realistic.” Your manager stated matter-of-factly. “That other song is still an opt—” “I am not changing the song.” You cut him off. Momentarily, your manager looked like a fish on dry land, gasping for air. “Sorry.” You added quickly, albeit a bit flustered. “Look,” He sighed, “We can do mature without shocking the nation. Let's keep it mild for now and maybe after two or three more singles, you can go all out.” “I haven’t been 18 in years, you know.” You retorted bitterly. Something inside you understood where he was coming from, but you had been obedient since your debut- how much longer should you wait? You didn’t want to sacrifice any more of your creativity, so many years into your career. You had even seen one of your own concepts go to a labelmate instead, your own team dubbing you too “youthful” to pull it off. “Okay, how about this,” He began with a frown, “Let us pick one of the choreographers’ drafts for you. You can finetune it with their guidance.”

Their pick had been Bada. You hadn’t even realized she sent in a draft: at one point you were so overwhelmed you just stopped checking your emails. You also hadn’t bothered to watch it before this meeting. You were genuinely too deep in your feelings about that whole ordeal for that. However, now that she was standing in the studio, tall height towering over you, you couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious.

You had seen Bada around.

After all, she had worked with many of your labelmates before. You had also watched a fair amount of her videos. She was one of the best in the business, and whenever you had downtime to practice freely you scrolled through her routines on Youtube to help stay in shape. As you were facing her, even with half her face hidden, you understood why everyone was so stricken with her. When she had walked into the room she oozed with authority, though not in an obnoxious way.

“Great!” Your manager clapped his hands, effectively breaking your train of thought. “Thank you so much for supporting us, Bada. Shall we jump right in?”

“Sure,” She nodded eagerly, hands wringing together as her body turned towards you. “I kind of wanted to see what you had in mind for this choreo.”

That surprised you, and you were certain your facial expression wasn’t hiding it. Your manager held his breath. “Oh! Well—” You chewed on your lip as you vaguely motioned the corner of the room, trying to find the words. “I wanted to use… I wanted to use a trampoline.”

Bada immediately turned her head to follow your gestures, her eyes landing on the mini trampoline set up in the studio. “A trampoline?” In the background, your manager heaved a sigh.

You purposely ignored him and nodded, slowly: “I can show you, if you want.” You had hoped that sounded more self-assured to her than it did to you.

Bada scratched her chin, still looking off to the trampoline, and then nodded along with you. “I’d love to see it.”

You felt the tension in your chest ebb away. There was no malice to her tone; she seemed genuinely curious.

Then, Bada turned her head towards your manager, her ponytail falling off her shoulder. “I hope I'm not imposing but, I would like this to be a collaborative effort between the two of us. I think it would take the pressure off if you…?” She trailed off with a kind smile, one impossible to say no to.

As if he got doused with cold water, your manager stood up with an urgency. “Privacy! I can give you two some privacy, no problem!” He fussed around, gathering his things. “Just let me know when we can sit in on the finished product.”

The both of you bowed to him as you bid your farewells, watching him leave the studio with a wave. Once the door shut behind him, you could feel yourself exhale in relief. You knew that if your manager was going to sit in on every practice, he would go out of his way to shut down all of your ideas. Without him around, you had more opportunity to champion your vision- at least, you hoped so.

You craned your neck, looking up at the ceiling, before letting your eyes fall shut with a sigh, almost forgetting there was another person in the room.

“They’ve been on your case, huh?”

Bada's soft but clear voice broke you out of your spell, and you turned your head to search for a glimpse of eye contact. Tough luck, as her hat was still in place casting a shadow down her face. There was, however, a knowing smirk playing across her features.

“You have no idea.” You muttered honestly. Bada laughed.

“I don’t want to make you dance a routine you don’t fully stand behind. I did mean it when I said I want this to be a collaborative effort.” Bada spoke carefully, but sincerely, her fingers once again intertwining. “I always wanted to work with you, so it’s an honor.” She added.

If you got a penny for every time you were caught off guard today, you could set some humble savings aside for an early retirement.

It is true that you’ve been sought after, but it wasn’t something you had ever internalized. Hearing it come from someone who herself was heavily sought after, made your face heat up.

“T- thank you. It’s an honor to work with you too.”

She bowed her head humbly, glancing over to the corner of the studio again where the trampoline sat, waiting. “Do you feel comfortable showing me what you have been working on?”

You nodded and rushed to the corner to set up your speaker, and then dragged the trampoline to the center of the room. You were oddly aware of your own presence, and almost felt the urge to make yourself smaller as you moved around. In the meantime, Bada was getting comfortable: she had dropped her things on a nearby table and left out a bottle of water. To her it must be a regular working day, but to you this felt scarier than getting up on stage.

Once you stood behind the trampoline, facing the wide stretched mirror filling up one side of the room, you stole a glance at the choreographer who was now crouched on the floor. She had pulled out a small camera and was setting it up on the edge of the table, making sure the lens was focused on your position. Long fingers fiddled with the buttons, and her tongue was prodding the hollow of her cheek. The angle allowed you to finally catch a glimpse of her eyes.

As if on cue, she glanced up at you. Your eyes met in the reflection of the mirror and your heart raced.

She gave you a soft smile and moved to sit cross-legged on the floor, the camera now fully set up. “I usually record everything, so we can watch it back and give feedback.”

Right, of course.

“Yeah, that’s usually how we operate as well.” You spoke timidly, and it was true. Yet something about having her attention on you felt more intimate. Usually there was at least one other person from your creative team looking on as well.

Trying to come across casual, you tied your hair up in a high ponytail. “What do you think of the song?” You asked curiously.

It was now Bada’s turn to be caught off guard. Her smile faltered and she broke the eye contact you had been sharing, clasping her hands together as she spoke. “I like it.” She began. “A lot, actually. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it. There isn’t anyone doing a song like this nowadays.”

Even though her body language was confusing, you couldn’t find any dishonesty in her voice. What she said made you feel relieved, some of your insecurity fading to the background. It’s why I wanted to play a part in it.

You sent a smile her way even though you weren’t sure she was even looking at you.

Proving you wrong, she smiled back.

“Alright, so,” You gestured to the trampoline at your feet. “The idea is, the other dancers and I all do the same routine. I'll be front and center. Four or six other dancers dance behind me, with their own trampoline.” You gave the trampoline a light shove with your foot, making sure it would stay in place, and then grabbed your phone. “Then you have an idea.”

You looked over your shoulder at Bada and gave her an inquisitive thumbs up. “Ready?” You asked.

Bada pressed a button on the camera and mimicked your thumbs up with a smile. “Ready when you are.”

You faced the mirror again and shook your shoulders a bit, forcing your body to loosen up. After twisting your neck a few times, you hit play on your phone, quickly placing it under the trampoline as the familiar synths of the song started blaring from the speakers. You tried to feel the confidence you were usually able to conjure up on stage, closing your eyes and swaying your hips, ponytail moving from side to side.

As soon as you heard your own voice through the speakers, instrumentals going deeper, you got into position. Your eyes opened up to focus on your own reflection in the mirror as if it was a fan in the crowd watching. Mouthing along to the lyrics, a playful smile on your lips, you hit every move as you had envisioned. Once the chorus came up, you dropped to your knees on the trampoline, grappling the edge as you performed the routine. Pushing back against the springs gave you the velocity to keep your moves fluid, your body twisting and turning, flipping over and hitting the next move. You made sure to move your hips deftly, aware that you had enough curves to allow you to pull it off, and kept your facial expressions in line. It had to look effortless.

You felt your ponytail swing along with your movements as if it were an extension of you, and sat up on the trampoline. The chorus came to an end and you used your arm strength to twist yourself around fast enough, gracefully falling back on your chest whilst keeping your toes en pointe in your sneakers. The tips of your fingers were touching the floor as your legs crossed, moving to rest your elbow on the edge of the trampoline and resting your chin atop your palm. You lip synced to the final words of the chorus, gaze alluring as you finished the move, and the music stopped.

You slowly sat up straight on the trampoline, crossing your legs, and slid your hand underneath to hit pause on your phone. You looked towards Bada expectantly, but the question got stuck in your throat. She was staring at you, mouth slightly agape, with an unreadable expression. For a split second you were reminded of your trainee days, when you had just finished a routine and were met by your choreographers’ stern faces; they wouldn’t spare you a single compliment, and instead listed off every mistake you had made.

But then, Bada blinked once and then twice, as if in a daze, and let out a soft “woah”. She started applauding you, shaking her head in bafflement. You felt your shoulders drop in relief.

“That was incredible!” The choreographer took off her cap, fixing her bangs before putting it back on. “You came up with this?”

You nodded slowly, the tips of your ears glowing hot. “I used to be a gymnast.”

“I can tell—” Bada spoke bluntly, but then snapped her mouth shut as if she said something wrong. “I mean, that was really good. Every part of your body was in command. Your team didn’t like it?”

“They think it’s too much, compared to my usual routines.” You had the urge to go off on a tangent, but ultimately you didn’t know Bada well enough. Unfortunately, you were naturally quite expressive and the disapproving frown on your face was on clear display.

“Too much? I kind of wanted more, actually.” She laughed softly, looking down to where her legs were crossed. You felt your heart skip a beat and bowed your head in lieu of a thanks.

Subsequently, the bright green light of the camera caught your attention. It was still recording.

“Hey, I think the camera is still on.” You spoke before you realized, and hoped it didn’t sound accusatory.

“Huh? Oh!” Her expression was almost akin to a child being caught with a hand in a cookie jar, the way she swiped at the camera to turn it off. “Sorry. Good call.” She mumbled shyly, tucking it behind her.

You weren’t sure what to say next, still flustered at her lofty praises, but luckily Bada broke the momentary silence.

“I had an idea…” She began, her hand rubbing at her chin pensively. “I don’t know if you’ve had the chance to watch my draft yet?”

You shook your head abashedly. “No, sorry, I honestly didn’t get to it.”

“It’s fine.” Bada waved her hands dismissively. “Maybe instead of doing the trampoline routine in every chorus, we could only do it in the middle? Exactly as it is. I wouldn’t change anything. And then for the other two choruses, we could keep some key moves but keep it on the floor.”

You mulled it over for a second, glancing up at the ceiling contemplatively. Using the trampoline the whole way through was not an option, according to your team. They had felt you were toeing the line with ‘raunchy’ much too closely. Perhaps you could find middle ground this way, while still keeping the part of the routine you felt most proud of.

“Okay.” You agreed, nodding slowly. “We would need something special for the final chorus, then.”

“I had another idea for that, if you’re fine with it. Would you like to watch my draft with me?”

————— ୨୧ —————

Her draft was good. Really good, actually.

Bada and you were sitting on the floor next to each other, the taller girl holding her phone out in front of you as the draft played on the screen. You were sitting quite closely together, but not close enough to be touching, a conscious decision on your part. You were a bit too aware of her presence, something about her was heightening your senses in a variety of ways. It wasn’t even as if she was stern or unkind, she just had an aura that intimidated you. At least, that’s what you were telling yourself.

A blonde girl you didn’t recognize was dancing your parts. Six other dancers, one of them being Bada, were in formation behind her performing the choreography perfectly in sync as your song played in the background. While you should really be paying attention to the girl in the center, your eyes couldn’t leave Bada’s figure. In the video she was dressed in loose-fitting cargo pants, just like today, and a crop top. Once again she wore a cap covering half her face, and even a face mask, but her hair hung loose over her shoulders.

You were always impressed by the small movements she was able to squeeze in, emphasizing certain parts in ways the other dancers weren’t able to. However, it was the final chorus that had your hands turn clammy.

The final chorus was a duet formation. Bada, with a quiet confidence in her step, and the blonde girl moved towards each other in the center of the room. They were effectively dancing for each other, the blonde girl whipping her head back as Bada stared her down, swaying their hips together rhythmically. Their steps were coordinated in such a way they almost mirrored, Bada rolling her body one way and the blonde girl moving the other; but it still felt cohesive. It was an intimate choreo. There were a few split moments of hips grinding against crotches, but it never lasted long enough to be straight up inappropriate. Still, you couldn’t help but realize you would have to practice this routine with Bada as well, and you felt yourself getting hot under the collar.

The choreo ended with the blonde girl giving Bada a playful shove, and the taller girl backed away slowly, a saunter in her step, before moving off the screen along with the other background dancers. The video ended and Bada dropped her phone in her lap, not looking at you.

“That was good.” You were relieved your voice came out evenly, and Bada started nodding in her trademark way, hands clasped together. “The formations were really clean and— I loved the final chorus.” You blurted.

She smirked, head raising and meeting your eyes for the second time today. You were starting to feel eager, greedily watching.

“I’m glad to hear. We definitely need to finetune the first chorus, line it up with your routine and all that. I really don’t want to lose your input.”

“That sounds great, thank you.” You felt a surge of gratitude in your chest, and shot her a wide smile. “I’m looking forward to working on this together.”

Bada dropped her gaze again, worrying her lower lip. You felt miffed at the brusque interruption of your shared eye contact but didn't show it.

“I suggest we start with practices tomorrow, we will edit the first chorus as we go,” She whipped out her phone, looking at her calendar. “We should practice the duet together until you’ve got a handle on it, and then I can bring over some of my guys to prep for the actual performances. I know someone for my part. He’s worked with some of your labelmates before, I’m confident he’s right for the job.”

You couldn’t tell if you were anxious at the prospect of practicing such a choreo with Bada, or if you were disappointed that the eventual product wouldn’t be performed with her. It made sense, though. If your label was already worried your concept was too mature for the country, having two women perform such a choreography wouldn’t be received well at all.

“Great. Same time tomorrow, just the two of us again?”

“Same time tomorrow,” The third time she was willing to meet your eyes, and once again with a small smile playing across her features. “Just the two of us.”

————— ୨୧ —————

Working with Bada the past few days has been surprisingly easy.

On the first day, she brought some iced coffee for the both of you and presented it with an exaggeratedly deep bow, holding out the plastic takeout bag in front of her as if she was a lackey presenting you a treasure. You giggled, muttering an incredulous “thank you” as you took the bag from her hands. Through sips of coffee, the both of you fast forwarded through the recordings trying to piece the choreography together. You were able to bounce ideas off of her in a way you never felt comfortable enough doing with other choreographers. Bada was attentive, patient and, above all, eager.

On the second day, you wanted to repay your debt and entered the studio with a box of doughnuts. She let out a surprisingly girlish squeak when you laid the box on the table, and barreled over to grab one. That day she was wearing a beanie instead of a cap, something you inadvertently preferred as you could now lock eyes and take in her features. Sometimes you had the impression she was hellbent on looking anywhere except into your eyes, but you didn’t want to mull it over for too long; some people just had a different way of interacting. Everything else about her still left you with a warm feeling.

Sometimes you both took turns performing for each other. She would pull her beanie further down her head as she took the center of the studio, and each time something inside you would brace itself. You could only watch in awe: her movements were sharp and magnetic, her entire body language changing in the blink of an eye. While your attention should be on her footwork, you were instead hypnotized by the sway of her hips, greedily drinking her in. You chalked it up to her being such a captivating dancer.

However, little could explain how much you relished in her undivided attention. When it was your turn to copy the moves, you made sure to give it your all and put on a show. Without a hat obscuring her eyes, you could tell where her eyes were looking and it wasn’t always on your reflection in the mirror. You swore you could feel her gaze burning in your lower back, but you didn’t mind. It encouraged you to hit your moves a bit harder than you usually would.

“You’re a fast learner,” Bada said at the end of the day, drinking from her water bottle as you watched her throat bob. “Keep it up and you won’t need me anymore.”

You didn’t like the sound of that.

————— ୨୧ —————

By the fifth day, the both of you had started working through the details of the duet.

The familiar song sounded through the speakers, the room filled with the sound of your singing voice and the squeaking of your sneakers on the floor.

You were painfully aware of the way Bada closely danced behind you but you kept your eyes down, forcing yourself to keep track of your footwork. You bent over slightly at the start of the next line, your hips popping out and letting your hair whip to the side as you hummed along to the lyrics. In tandem, Bada moved her hips the opposite direction but gyrated closer to you, her hand coming up to tug her cap lower. You spared the mirror a glance for a split second, realizing Bada was much closer to you than you had realized, but you pushed the thought away.

You looked good together.

“Pause real quick.” She spoke suddenly, stepping away from you and bending over to stop the song. You immediately halted your movements at the command, trying to control the heaving of your chest and willing away the warmth of your cheeks.

She stood up again, meeting your eyes in the mirror before steadying herself behind you, body close to yours.

“You’re doing great, but,” A tentative hand slid to your hip, fingers curling over in a loose grip as she subtly urged it to move to one side. Both your eyes remained locked through the mirror. “I think we should move together in this part. Like this.” She repeated the motion, her grasp on your hip tightening ever so slightly before pulling you flush against her pelvis. Her hips rocked along with yours, and you could only follow.

She hummed close to your ear, and you felt her breathe along the side of your face. “Just like that.” Her voice was quiet, gentle even, though her stare was everything but that. It was intense.

In an attempt to sound casual you replied with an “okay”, but it came out softer than you had hoped for.

Her eyes dropped from the mirror, opting to look down at you directly, but you couldn’t find the confidence to return the favor. “You should do that thing again," she continued quietly, "Where you throw your hair back, but look at me when you do it.”

You repeated your steps, but this time both her hands came down to hold your hips in place. You turned your head as requested, your hair falling over your shoulder as your eyes finally met. Her gaze was intense but undecipherable; she hadn’t been looking at the mirror at all this time.

Bada was so close, unblinking and heady. The thought entered your mind before you fully realized: if you craned your neck you could kiss her. In a careful motion, you felt her hands slide up and down slowly, smoothing along the curve of your hips.

“Perfect.” She said, and it sounded so intimate you felt lightheaded. Usually she voiced her approval with an animated smile and a thumbs up, but she spoke to you as if she was scared you would set off running. “You got it. You want to try that again with music?”

You nodded slowly and her hands dropped from your hips, leaving a burning sensation in their wake. As she bent down to turn the song back on, you brought the back of your hand up to your cheek; checking if it was as warm as you felt. Then you ran your fingers through your ponytail, tightening the hair tie with a sharp tug in an attempt to snap yourself out of whatever daze you had fallen into.

It meant nothing. She had merely workshopped a move and there was no need to feel so nervous.

The final chorus of the song began thumping again and the both of you got into your starting positions. Bada’s presence was palpable behind you, but you tried to force your head back into performance-mode. You kept your moves sharp, lip synced as if the voice came directly from your own throat and smiled playfully at all the right lines.

As the instrumentals of the final chorus got louder, you twirled a finger around your ponytail, playing with the imaginary crowd in front of you. Bada pressed up against your back. Your hips moving in tandem just as the choreo required and you could no longer repress the urge to grind back against her. You saw Bada smirk in the mirror, her eyes obscured by her cap, but you could tell she was enjoying your blunt display of confidence. That made you laugh for real, putting an extra ‘oomph’ into the roll of your hips, dropping even lower, and feeling Bada take what you gave her with a great amount of enthusiasm. You heard the choreographer let out a "woo!" and you giggled.

At the very end of the choreo, you were meant to face Bada and push her away; making room for a final solo moment. So you turned around, meeting that familiar mischievous grin and your hand came up to curl into her collar. Bada sucked in her lower lip, greedily towering over you and looking down expectantly.

But something about the giddy atmosphere had you feeling bold, so you tugged her even closer instead. Her mouth fell open, but she followed you down nonetheless, eyes becoming half-lidded. You were mere inches removed from each other, and her breath fanned across your face. For a split second her gaze lingered on your lips, and you held your breath, heart fluttering in an unfamiliar feeling. A fleeting thought told you to bridge the gap, pull her impossibly closer by the grip you had on her collar, but your body acted before your brain could.

You reached for her cap and tugged it off her head, putting it on yourself in one swift movement and then shoved her away as you were supposed to do; effectively breaking the spell. You turned on your heel to look back at your reflection in the mirror, consciously blocking Bada from your periphery and closed out the song. The music stopped.

Now that the studio was quiet you could hear the both of you catching your breaths, and rather than facing Bada while your face was still heating up, you flopped onto the floor, limbs spread out. You moved Bada’s cap atop your face, blocking out the bright lights of the practice room, feeling exceptionally winded.

You felt Bada sit down next to you and she promptly pulled her hat off your face.

“Ow,” You uttered lamely, arms coming up to cover your face instead. Surely the shame you felt was on wide display and you had to save the little bit of the reputation you had left. You could already hear her voice, albeit uncharacteristically, echo in your head: “What was that?” “Why didn’t you just stick to what I told you?” “That was highly unprofessional.” Your stomach churned.

But instead she said: “That was incredible.”

“Huh.” You exclaimed unintelligently. You tentatively moved your arms from your face and were met with Bada staring you down, her hat back in place. It would probably be too weird if you went back into hiding, so you dropped your arms uselessly.

“That was incredible,” she repeated, a fond smile on her lips. “You are incredible. I’m telling you, we’ve got a hit on our hands.” She extended her arms excitedly, as if she had to convey the sheer magnitude of potential you both had crafted.

“You really think so?” You sounded breathless, the warmth in your chest blossoming.

“I know so. Seriously? If your team doesn’t like this, they’re idiots.” Her bluntness kicked a laugh out of you, and you playfully whacked her knee. “No, I mean it!”

“It wasn’t too much?” Slowly you sat up, tugging at the front of your shirt clinging uncomfortably to your body from the sweat.

Bada tilted her head, blinking at you sympathetically as she weighed your words carefully.

“I’ve already told you,” her voice was quiet, as if she was worried someone else might overhear, “I can’t get enough of you. The same goes for the public, by the way.”

That made you want to kick your feet like a teenager, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you fought the impulse to fall into her arms. Instead, you dropped your head with a timid smile hoping that did enough to show your gratitude.

Bada placed a hand on your shoulder with a touch so soft she might as well be reassembling a broken vase, urging you to look at her. “Let's take a break, order some bubble tea and then watch the recordings. Sound good?”

You leaned into the touch with exhilaration. “Yeah. My treat, though.”

————— ୨୧ —————

The tenth day coincided with a photoshoot in the morning. You had gotten up at 4am to get to the location early enough so that there was enough room for your stylists to get to work.

The first thing you noticed was the visual board you had worked on tirelessly a few weeks prior.

It had changed.

Some of the images jumbled around or left out entirely, replaced by ones you did not recognize or even liked to begin with. Even the color scheme had changed. Before you could ask your manager about it, however, your hair stylist beckoned you to follow her into the booth. Still groggy, with just a protein shake in your belly to keep you at bay, you followed without objection.

But then, after you emerged fully made up with your hair in intricate braids and ribbons, you saw the backdrop you were going to work with and the outfits you would be wearing: they looked nothing like what you had agreed on.

Once sown into the baby pink corset, you looked at your reflection in the mirror with a glassy expression, too exhausted to even express the anger that was simmering in your chest.

“What happened to the costume I commissioned?” You asked your manager in a flat voice, fully realizing you wouldn’t like whatever the answer would be.

“Oh,” But he didn’t sound surprised at all, “We didn’t really like how it turned out, so we decided to go with something else. Pink looks good on you, you know.” He added hurriedly.

You blinked, clenching and unclenching your jaw. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene in front of all the staff. Firstly, it wasn’t their fault; secondly, word got around quickly and the last thing you needed was a trending blind item about diva behavior. With great difficulty you swallowed the venom down your throat and walked over to the camera crew without sparing your manager a single glance. Bowing to everyone separately, you turned on the autopilot. You just needed to get through the day. You posed for the flashing of the cameras, turning your brain off.

“That’s a wrap! Great work, all.” The photographer’s voice snapped you out of your daze, and you slowly stumbled away from the backdrop, blinking back tears.

“Great job everyone, thank you for your hard work.” You hoped your voice sounded even and hurried away to get changed.

Once alone in your dressing room, you bent over the sink with your hands in your hair. You didn’t understand. They had seen the choreography Bada and you had worked on, and approved. They had been enthusiastic even, and it felt like your team and you had finally buried the hatchet. Now you understood why they were so pliant in their acceptance of the final choreo; they had found something else to exert their control over. You didn’t want to cry, so you grit your teeth and untied your hair, fingers smoothing out where the braids had been.

Bada.

In the bustle of the early morning you had almost forgotten you were meant to start your first practice with the entire dance crew today, with Bada as the lead choreographer ensuring everything played out exactly according to your collaborative vision. It had been almost two days since you had last seen her, yesterday being a day off for the both of you, and for some reason it felt like a lifetime.

You wanted to see her, but you weren’t sure if you could dance today.

You arrived at the studio about an hour later, right on time, with most of your makeup cleared from your face and dressed in joggers and a crop top. This time you were sporting a cap as well, hoping the dancers wouldn’t notice the fatigue etched on your face on your first day with them.

Everyone was already there. Some dancers stretching, others practicing and a few watching the recordings while in deep discussion with Bada. Her flannel shirt was bunched up at her elbows as she made grand gestures with her hands, explaining something to the dancers in front of her. As the sound of the door opening and closing filled the room, the tall girl perked up mid-sentence, shooting you a wide smile.

“Hey! I got you some coffee.” She spoke brightly, walking over to you in big strides as her loose braid fell off her shoulder. You had just finished bowing to everyone when you turned to Bada, feeling your chest swell at the sight of her. “How was the shoot?”

She must’ve noticed something. Perhaps it was the sag of your shoulder, the way you bit your lower lip or the exhaustion in your eyes; but her smile faltered slightly when she got a closer look.

“It went alright.” You spoke neutrally, unable to meet her eyes but adding a nod to come across as reassuring as possible. “Thank you for the coffee.”

Bada stood a bit helplessly but seemed to understand that prying any further would be futile. “Of course, it was my turn, after all.” She smiled carefully. “You wanna get started?”

“Let’s do that.” You agreed, hoping that dancing would get your mind off of things.

Bada gathered everyone together and gave a small speech, making a conscious effort to do all the talking so you could comfortably hide the swelling insecurity you felt deep in your chest. You nodded at the right times, smiled at the dancers (some of them peeking at you in awe) and tried to come across relaxed.

Once Bada finished talking, she called for everyone to get in position as she strode to the far end of the room, where she had the most optimal view. You moved to the front, right next to your trampoline, facing the mirror and vaguely took note of a tall guy with a buzzcut who now stood in the spot Bada did when you had been practicing with her. Something about her not being part of the dance anymore, even though you perfectly knew this was going to be the plan all along, made you feel even less secure.

You shook your limbs loose, trying to empty your head for the sake of the dancers who were all blind to your inner turmoil and instead incredibly excited to be here. You did not want to waste their time. Once again, you forced yourself into auto pilot.

The song started playing, bubbling synths building up to your first lines, and you danced. You danced as you had practiced with Bada, but weren’t able to envision the crowd in front of you. Instead you relied on muscle memory, which worked out well enough. Even when the tall guy was behind you for the duet, hips grazing yours, you didn’t feel very aware of your surroundings at all. Sometimes you all had to stop midway when Bada noticed that someone was offbeat or out of position, but you slid back into the moves easily. The team was strong, too. You danced the choreo once, twice, thrice and a fourth time. When you grabbed the guy’s collar, you pushed him back immediately, unlike what you had practiced with Bada, and finished your move.

Bada clapped her hands together with a cheer.

“That was solid, everyone!” She strode over, giving everyone a thumbs up. “Some things we have to smooth over, but we are way ahead on schedule. Let’s take five. I— Are you okay?”

You barely realized your own actions until you felt the warm tears run down your cheeks. You had sat down on the trampoline in such an unceremonious way, body shaking from exertion as you tried to hold back hiccups. Panic began crawling up your body and into your throat. Suddenly aware of the dancers seeing you in such a state, you took your cap off and held it in front of your face.

“Actually, since we are ahead on schedule, let’s make this a short day.” Bada’s authoritative voice declared to the entire room. The dancers nodded along nervously, glancing at your hunched figure with palpable worry. “Great work everyone, make sure to get home safe. Same time tomorrow.”

You croaked out a soft “Thank you, everyone” through your fingers, but your voice was barely audible. You couldn’t face them.

Footsteps rushed around the room, the dancers gathering their backpacks off the floor. You barely registered the hushed voices slowly echoing further and further away from you, until the door shut with finality; a lock sounding in place and silence reigning over the space.

Bada’s hands came to rest on your shoulders as you felt the trampoline sink with her added weight. Then she pulled you into her arms with a tenderness you had never experienced from anyone before. Your arms tightened around her frame in instinct, dropping your cap onto the floor, and your heart constricting painfully as you hid your face in her chest.

She didn’t speak as you hiccupped soundlessly, letting the exhaustion pour out of you with quivering shoulders. Bada’s hands traced comforting lines along your back, her cheek pressed against the top of your head as she waited for the trembling of your body to subdue. In turn, you tried to focus on the steady rise and fall of her chest, her breathing lulling you.

After ten minutes of complete silence, Bada was the one to speak in a hushed voice: “What happened?”

You glanced up at her, tears still running down your cheeks as you choked back a particularly pathetic sob. “I’m sorry…”

Bada let out an affronted gasp, bringing her hands up to cradle your face instead and letting her thumbs wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Please don’t apologize. Tell me what happened.”

“My team,” You began with a slurred speech, “They still don’t believe in me. They don’t think I can pull this off.”

Your voice sounded heartbroken: “They make sure to remind me every chance they get. My manager is certain I am going to embarrass the nation, because there is only one thing I can do and it’s not this. I can’t be sexy. I don’t have good ideas. And maybe they’re right! I don’t have the charisma to pull this off. My fans are going to hate it, because it’s not the person they wanted to support—” There was nothing you could do except keep going, like a faucet running, and Bada let you, “—I can’t even wear what I want. My visual board was cybercore inspired. I had a red PVC two piece outfit custom-made, but they put me in a pink dress and ballet shoes.” You added, horrified; not at the clothes, but at the clear disconnect between your team and you.

Bada, who was nodding along to your words with a serious expression up until that point, chuckled at your words, thumbs still catching tears. “Well I always thought you looked like a pretty princess, but that’s indeed a bit on the nose.”

The follow-up to your rant died in your throat, eyes widening at her words. Your brain was short circuiting. “You think I’m pretty?”

The taller girl scoffed at that, brows furrowing. “I can’t believe you just asked me that.”

“Why?” You asked, genuinely.

For a moment she gawked at you, deep in thought and searching your face for insincerity. Bada was unable to find it.

“It’s not the only thing I think of you.”

Something about the atmosphere in the room changed when she spoke, and you almost forgot why you were upset in the first place. She carefully tucked your hair behind your ears, her eyes staring into yours unblinkingly. It reminded you of the way she had looked at you during practice days prior, when you had pulled her close by her collar for the first time. Her attention on you was suffocating, but you were glad to be drowning.

You sucked in your lower lip for a split second, releasing it, and waited with bated breath for her to continue. Her eyes dropped immediately, following your movements. She slid one hand down to the crook of your neck, slowly, the tips of her fingers tracing along your skin and leaving shivers in their wake; her other hand curled under your chin with a loose grip, tilting your head back slightly. Your head felt so heavy you could only lean in closer, wanting more of something you couldn’t even put in words.

But as always with Bada, she seemed to know what you wanted before you could open your mouth and ask for it. She closed the distance, brushing her lips against yours in a soft peck, and it was when you realized she was also holding her breath.

Her thumb trailed along your jawline, breath fanning over your lips. “Is this okay?” She asked quietly. You placed your hands on her thighs to brace yourself, your own lightheadedness overwhelming you, and nodded.

There was a shadow of a smirk on her lips when she kissed you a second time; lips connected with more force this time before gliding together in tandem. She tilted your head to get impossibly closer to you, her hand moving from your chin to tangle her fingers into your hair and cradling the back of your head. When her lips parted and closed around your bottom lip, nipping eagerly, you inadvertently let out a soft noise at the warmth of it all which only seemed to spur her on further.

You curled your hands into the front of her shirt as her back straightened, crowding around you as if her goal was to subdue, the trampoline creaking underneath your shared weight. She seemed to relish in overpowering you, inhaling sharply through her nose when you parted your mouth for her further.

You felt the tentative prod of her tongue, and accepted. The wetness made you shiver as she swallowed your quiet gasps. The hand that was previously nestled against your neck slid lower, began exploring along the curve of your waist and feeling the bare skin your crop top couldn’t reach to hide.

She parted the kiss, and you let out a soft whine. Biting her lip in an attempt to hide her smile, but ultimately failing, her eyes were drinking you in. You could only imagine what you looked like as even Bada was flushed all over, chest heaving from excitement. Then, as if she was reading your mind, her eyes glanced over to the mirror in front of you.

Bada shifted her position behind you, running her fingers through your hair before ultimately placing her palm against the other side of your waist. Steadily, as if she were correcting a move during practice, she turned your body to face the mirror. At this rate you simply accepted the effect she had on you, and wordlessly obeyed her ministrations. She planted her feet on the floor, long legs on either side of you; and ultimately caged you in, nestling her chin into the crook of your neck. Her eyes never left the mirror.

She brushed some of your hair over your shoulder as if she were propping up a doll, and spoke in a hushed voice: “Look at yourself.”

The sight made you feel all the more dizzy. Through half-lidded eyes you barely recognized your own reflection; hair slightly mussed and lips swollen and lovebitten. Someone did that to you. Bada did that to you.

The taller girl, pressed up against you, placed a kiss on your shoulder, fingers running up and down your body and making the hairs on your arms stand straight in exhilaration. You loved the way she touched you, how it made you feel; as if she was tracing the lines on an art piece. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered against your shoulder, “people would kill to see you like this.”

The honesty in her voice made something in your stomach roll. “Bada…” You began, but you didn’t even know what you wanted to say.

“You have no idea how other people look at you.” Her hands cradled the small of your waist, fingertips digging into your hips. “So let me show you how they look at you.”

She began kissing up your shoulder, soft and warm presses of her lips, before parting her mouth against your neck with a tangible hunger that left you sighing. You tilted your head to the side to give her more room and every inch you freed, she swarmed eagerly. Her tongue swirled against a patch of skin, hand flattening on your lower stomach as the other traced higher and higher, along your ribcage, before inquisitive fingertips moved under the hem of your top. As she sucked a mark onto your skin, you clenched your thighs together at the familiar sensation between your legs. Your eyes slowly fell shut as she crept up higher, lips pressing right below your earlobe with a barely-there hum.

She whispered: “Keep looking at yourself.”

You obeyed bashfully, right when Bada reattached her lips to your skin. She had been tracing lines along the hem of your sports bra, enthralled with the way you shivered in her grasp, before slipping a hand under; her hand was warm as she kneaded your breast, but your nipples stiffened at the sensation all the same. You pushed out your chest to convey your delectation, and she rewarded you by sinking her teeth into your skin. Suddenly, with a swift movement, both her hands hoisted up the hem of your top and bra, and pulled it upwards, your breasts releasing from its confines. The cold air made them perk up and Bada’s hands cupped the underside.

She detached her lips from your skin with a wet sound before looking up at the mirror, taking you in with her saliva-slicked mouth agape.

“So pretty,” Bada muttered, bringing your breasts a little higher, “Are you sensitive here?” She wondered loudly before tracing her thumbs right below your nipples. Once again your legs squeezed together, feeling yourself throb from excitement, and Bada picked up on the hint with a wide smile. “You are.”

In your reflection you saw Bada bring her fingers up to your mouth, thumb pressing down on your bottom lip imploringly, and you opened your mouth. She slipped her digit past, pushing it back against your tongue and you sucked obediently. Her eyes were drilling into yours through your reflection, enthralled by how pliant you were under her care.

You released the digit with a wet ‘pop’ and Bada promptly brought it to your nipple, rubbing it in circular motions as her other hand continued to knead your other breast. A quiet moan escaped you, chest rising into her touch and Bada giggled, pressing another kiss on your shoulder. Your own hands ached to touch her, but she kept you firmly locked between her legs; instead you squeezed her upper thighs, feeling her shapes through the baggy cargo she was sporting.

“Give me a kiss.” She commanded, and you immediately twisted your neck to capture her lips.

It was all teeth, wet noises echoing through the room as your tongue swirled against hers; the taller girl groaning into your mouth at the sheer force you exerted. She gave your nipples a pinch before rubbing her fingers over them repeatedly, and she swallowed your breathless moans greedily. You dug your nails into her thighs as she cupped your breasts again, her tongue slipping out of your mouth to trail along your bottom lip instead. Your head was chanting her name, getting drunk on the near delirious attention she gave you. Tilting your head back even further, you connected your lips again even though the angle was uncomfortable. You were starting to feel desperate, hips lightly rocking back against the firmness of her body as Bada sucked down on your tongue.

One of her hands released your breast and trailed down the expanse of your stomach, once again breaking the kiss and instead opt to look at you in the mirror. Her fingers found the knot of your joggers as your eyes met in the reflection, and she pulled on the string; untying it.

“Okay?” Bada inquired meaningfully, and you nodded much faster than you intended. “Let me hear you say it.” The tone of her voice, which was otherwise so gentle and quiet, made your full body shiver.

“I want it.” You spoke breathlessly, squirming impatiently between her legs as her fingers finally slipped down your pants.

She trailed along the sweatband of your underpants before cupping your heat over the fabric, fingers pressing against your folds inquisitively. Her eyes never left yours, quietly measuring your reactions. Unwittingly your thighs clamped around her wrist, breath hitching in your throat as she began to caress you with a touch so gentle it didn’t fit the precarious position you both were in.

“You’re so wet.” Bada spoke coyly, smirking at the way your eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. She began rubbing circles over your covered folds, feeling your wetness spread as if on command. Your breathing turned into whining, subconsciously grinding back against her hand.

She removed her hand much to your distress, until you realized what she wanted: Bada began tugging the fabric of both your joggers and underpants down as far as she could, before giving your hip a commanding pat. You raised your hips to assist her ministrations, and she pulled the clothing down past your knees before you kicked them off fully.

Your thighs were pressed together when you got back in place and suddenly felt self-conscious at how exposed you were despite your own eagerness. Bada wasn’t having it: her eyes were taking in your figure, hands immediately coming down to smooth along your thighs. Then, she squeezed tightly and wrenched your thighs wide apart, making you expose yourself for her. Before you could instinctively close them, her long legs hooked over your ankles, forcefully keeping them in place. All of it only made you throb harder.

“You don’t want to know how often I’ve been thinking about this these past few days.” Her hands smoothing along your sides in marvel, cupping your breasts once more. The tip of her nose pressed against the shell of your ear. “How many times I’ve watched those recordings and imagined you, exactly like this.” Her fingers fit into your mouth once again, and you sucked on them, letting your tongue swirl along the digits as if you were starving for it. “I think I lost count.”

Her confession made you moan around her fingers, shivers running down your spine. She scooted back ever so slightly, pulling your hips back with her unoccupied hand until it was the angle she needed, and then dropped it between your legs. Her fingers spread your folds and she sucked in a breath, completely mesmerized by your reflection. You were still swallowing around her fingers and she hummed encouragingly, hand cupping your vagina and spreading your wetness across your heat.

She removed her fingers from your mouth and you caught your breath, fingers digging into her upper thighs as you braced yourself. As one hand kept your folds spread, the other, spit-slicked, began rubbing slow circles against you. You gasped at the sensation, mumbling her name in amazement. You raised your hand to the back of her head; grabbing a hold of her braid to simply have a hold of something, but it earned you a particularly sweet noise from the girl behind you. Your hips rocked back against her movements trying to find more friction in the right place, and Bada slowly sped up, moving her wrist up and down to try and find the spot that did it for you. Her lips pressed against the back of your neck so tenderly, and something about the dichotomy between that and the way she was touching you between your legs made your eyes roll back; lids closing as you thrusted back against her hand.

You didn’t understand how she was able to build up to that familiar knot in your stomach so soon, and it almost made you feel embarrassed, until you realized Bada was savoring every second of it. Her eyes never left your form, as if she were studying just another choreography, lips parted in an awestruck way. You had long foregone the urge to keep quiet, vocalizing exactly what she was doing to you: You let a particularly loud moan leave you when she rubbed along your most sensitive spot. Trying to pull more sounds from you, she pressed against your clit with more force and rubbed faster. Your hips could only chase her touch as your lower stomach constricted.

Bada brought her hand up to her own lips and lapped at her fingers, effectively pausing her motions for a split second and thus drawing a broken whine from you; both because her hand wasn’t where you needed it to be and also because she had no qualms about having you in her mouth. It didn’t last long: she hushed you soothingly as she put her hand back where you felt it belonged and used the added wetness to add faster friction against your clit. Your head rolled back and you tugged at her braid, pulling an attractive groan from the girl behind you.

You weren’t far away anymore. Your lower stomach was unbearably tight with desire and you were a gyrating, frantic mess against her hand while her fingers rubbed against you in vertical swipes, her name falling from your lips repeatedly as if you were reciting a prayer.

You managed to utter an “I’m close”, and Bada crowded against you before you could start begging her for release. “Come for me.” She demanded, and then immediately captured your mouth in a desperate kiss, teeth clashing together while she drank your sweet moans.

As if on cue, the tension in your stomach imploded and you gave her braid a sharp pull. You gasped into her mouth, no longer kissing each other but rather breathing each other's air, as your orgasm rippled through you.

You felt your whole body quiver and shake in pleasure as Bada led you through your release, thighs trembling despite the hold the choreographer’s legs had on you. Her fingers hadn’t left your core, but the rubbing slowed down until you were gasping at the overstimulation, yet unwilling to make her hands leave you. As if she read your mind her movements came to a halt, but she pressed her palm against you; almost possessively. She planted kisses along the side of your throat, whispering praises against your skin as you caught your breath.

Once you had the rise and fall of your chest under control, her arms curled around your waist in a fond embrace, and you turned your head to look directly at her. She had already been staring at you, meeting your eyes with a bashful smile. The two of you laughed at each other, and Bada pressed your foreheads together.

“That,” You mumbled, eyes falling shut as you relished in her open affection: “Was amazing, thank you.”

“Was happy to do it.” She responded playfully, rubbing the tip of your noses together affectionately.

“Will this happen every time I get self-deprecating?”

“I definitely intend to do this more often, but you could also just ask nicely.” Bada retorted with a smirk before pecking your lips. You giggled, putting your hands over hers and leaning back into the embrace.

After several more shared kisses and hushed whispers, both of you decided to get a move on: you were starting to get cold in your exposed state so Bada urged you to get up. She helped you step back in your clothes, a smug self-satisfied grin never leaving her face when she noticed the unsteady wobble in your legs.

When you pulled your bra and top back over your breasts, Bada pouted. You gave her a playful shove but she caught your arms instead, bringing them around her neck as her own enveloped your waist.

“Wanna grab dinner?” Her eyes were round and hopeful.

“I would love that.” You replied, and gave her a kiss.

As the both of you tidied up the practice room and gathered your things, Bada listing off food suggestions in the background, your eyes slid to the table at the front of the room.

A familiar device remained perched on the edge, a small green light lighting up proudly.

“Hey, Bada.”

“Hm?”

“Camera’s still recording.”

She stumbled over looking mortified, snatching the device off the table and rewinding haphazardly.

“Oh, fuck.”

#bada lee x reader #swf2 #bada lee #bada lee smut #street woman fighter 2 #dalla!writes #im sorry in advance bhahaha #idk what i did

1K notes · View notes

girlboypersonthingy · 1 month

Note

Big reward. I meant for that to be a smut request, my bad.

OMFG I BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! Yessss finally some Valentino smut. I love it~ I’m honestly soooo inspired by @sweets4dolls and her Val x bunny!reader smut 🤤 literally so good. He’s so toxic. 10/10 would smash. Go check her stuff out! And I hope you enjoy my stuff too ❤️‍🔥

Notes: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, THIS ENDED UP LONGER THAN EXPECTED OOPS I’m gonna have to excuse myself now, geez 😳

TW: oral s*x (m receiving), DDLG, unsanitary, unprotected s*x, spit, creamp*e, rough, dirty talk, 18+ only MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Valentino x reader- Superstar 🌟💖

“And cut! That’s a fucking wrap!” Valentino shoots up from his seat so fast his chair tips over behind him as he claps obnoxiously. Boy had stars in his eyes, even his assistant was shocked by his display of pride and admiration. “Damn, baby. That was a helluva show, fuck! That’s why she’s my favorite~” Val smirks as he eyes your figure still up on set, still down on your knees and trembling. He snaps his fingers, yelling out to his back stage crew. “Alright! Come get the vibrator off her, hurry up.”

Yeah…although the scene had ended and the cameras cut at least 2 whole ass minutes ago, you’re still in position waiting for the boss to give you the okay. Down on your knees, hands bound behind your back with thick pink ropes, your pretty lacy lingerie disheveled and drenched in all kinds of different bodily fluids and, of course, Val had one of his most sturdy and powerful vibrators tucked up against your heat, making you grind down against the carpet below you just to get off. The worst part- he made you leave your panties on the whole time. Finally, after a few orgasms had already wracked your body, the vibrating in your crotch disappears, leaving you only half satisfied.

The entire shoot, all he had you do was suck as many dicks as you could, swallowing every single load for the camera. Gagging on cock is hot to some, maybe not to others- but there’s something about how darling you look choking on another demon’s dick that just sets him and his viewers off. Your pretty lashes dusted with tears, your nose and cheeks pink, your forehead shiny with sweat, your bare chest covered in spit and cum, your cheeks and throat stretching to fit every inch. Not that you mind! You’d do anything for Val but damn, you were aching for a real fuck. All the vibrator did was get you prepped and wet and now you need some real friction.

“Everyone, out! Now! I need to talk to (Y/N).” As all his employees scramble to leave the studio, Val walks over to you, still bucking your hips against nothing now. He kneels in front of you, taking your face in his hands. You’ve been staring at his hard on since half way through taping and now that he was right in front of you, dick about to rip through his pants, you feel your walls clenching longingly. “Wow. Holy. Shit.” He lets out a deep chuckle as he stares at your face, your make up smeared under your eyes. “I did okay?” The question has Val scoffing as he looks you up and down, watching as your thighs quiver. “Baby, you did fan-fuckin-tastic. You’re gonna make me so much fucking cash, I’m not gonna know what to do with it!”

With his hands still holding your face, he pulls you into a sloppy kiss, letting his tongue wander into you immediately. You happily tongue him back, leaning into him as you struggle to keep your balance with your hands still tied behind you. Breaking the kiss, his large hands travel down your neck to your chest, his fingers giving your sensitive nipples little squeezes. Val looks down to see you’ve scooted closer to him and you’re still rolling your hips in the hopes of finding something to fill you. He eases your pain by gently thrusting forward, his hard bulge up against your needy crotch for a moment.

“Aww~ I know, amorcito. Such a long shoot with such an empty hole. You must feel so hollow right now, baby. Does my little girl need more?” Nodding frantically, you kiss him again before moaning your pleas into his mouth. “Please, fuck me, Valentino.” His smirk becomes sinister as he leans away, refusing your kisses now. His shift causes you to fall forward into him more, your tits squished against his stomach now. “Ah ah ah. Try again.” His scolding makes you whine, makes tears begin to form in your eyes. “Hmm~ please f-fuck me, daddy~” and within seconds, he’s tearing your once disheveled lingerie completely off of you, your strained voice making his dick twitch.

“Hmm~ yeah, that’s my little superstar.” Within seconds, he had you turned around on your knees once again with your face pressed to the plush red carpet. Val made little effort to remove your panties, leaving them bunched up around your knees. Finally, with your face on the floor, your ass in the air and your throbbing cunt free of the fabric, Val gets a good look at your eager pussy. He yanks off his belt and quickly frees his dick without even pulling his pants down much. He can’t wait much longer and neither can you.

He swiftly leans over, one hand on each of your ass cheeks as he spits on your hole, earning a whine of anticipation from you. With no hesitation, he sits up and thrusts into you all at once, filling every bit of you instantly. “Oh my fucking-“ Val growls loudly as his hands grip your hips, his cock immediately moving at an unforgiving pace. Giving you no time to adjust, he continues to pound into you as he leans forward, putting one hand on the side of your head then forcing it down onto the ground. “Ah~ such a clean little cunt you’ve got, just patiently waiting to be filled by daddy, huh?”

All you can muster up is a collection of moans, whines and gasps. Right as you catch your breath, Val spanks your ass hard and his pace slows. “Use your words~” Despite the stinging hand print on your ass, his voice is soft and sweet, so sultry and exciting. “Yes! Ah- oh! I’ve been waiting for you all day...” Your begging goes straight to his head, pulling a hearty chuckle from him. “You’re such a good girl, amorcito. Always doing exactly what I say, right when I say it. And you do it all sooo welllll~”

His thrusting had stopped completely now and suddenly, his hands are on your shoulders, pulling you up to be parallel with his body. Your back against his chest and you now sitting on his dick, he wraps one of his strong hands around your throat loosely and pulls you back against him before whispering in your ear. “Good girls get to cum sooner. You wanna cum now, baby?” And you couldn’t take it anymore, you began to squirm against him. “Yes, yes! Please keep goinggggg~”

And Val obeys, wrapping his arms around your torso tightly then helping bounce you on his dick. He is so strong, he is literally lifting you completely off of his lap before slamming you back down again, making your stomach bulge as he swelled inside you. A moaning mess covered in sweat, you had lost control of your legs and were now relying on him to keep you going. Now you’ve found yourself thanking the stars that you had done good today and impressed him. He was always willing to service his favorites and this was so worth the wait.

He moved one hand up to your neck again, squeezing it as he pants and growls in your ear. With every up and down of your body, you can feel yourself getting close, your tummy feels so full and your walls won’t stop tightening around his dick. “Yeah~ lemme hear you, mi cariño.”

Moaning at a higher volume now, Val couldn’t hold back anymore and he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, drawing blood. As a squeal leaves you, he keeps his mouth latched to you, still thrusting up into your sopping cunt as he licks the blood away. Finally, once you feel yourself fall off the edge of pleasure, your legs tense up against him and your hands bound behind you were searching for something to grasp. “Oh fuck~! Th-thank you, daddy. Thankyoudaddythankyoudaddythankyoudaddyyyyyyy~!” Your cries are harsh, babbles of appreciation pouring from your dry mouth as Val continues to buck up into you.

Without letting you catch your breath, he pushes you back down into the carpet, your weak body going limp as you lay flat against the ground. Panting and whining still, you squeeze your legs together once you realize he’s not inside you anymore. Not a moment later, Val was gripping your bruised hips and pulling your ass back up in the air. Legs shaking violently, you couldn’t control your loud whining as he thrusts back into you again, resuming the same rapid pace as before. Val grunts and hisses at the feeling of your slick dripping down his thighs now. “Hmmph…gonna cum in you. Gonna fill my pretty girl up.” With a firm slap to your already tender ass, Val lets out a rumbling laugh as you pant into the carpet, tears of overstimulation cascading down your burning cheeks.

Already so fucked, you couldn’t even close your mouth for long enough to form a single word. Your only option was to relax into his grip and enjoy it for as long as he lasts. “F-fuck.” Val stutters out as his fingers dig into your soft flesh. With one final thrust, burying his dick inside you completely, he let out a throaty grunt followed by soft sighs. It nearly brought you to another climax feeling his hot cum spill into you. After a few seconds of being still, Val slowly pumps in and out of you, lewd squishing noises sounding from where your bodies connected.

Another hard smack to the ass is followed by Val slowly pulling out of you with his eyes locked on your swollen pussy the whole time. Glancing back at him, all you could see through the blurry tears in your eyes was his huge, satisfied grin as he watched his thick load dribble out of you. “Mm mm mm. You are so delectable. Such a good girl.”

Without another word, Val stands and pulls his pants up, adjusting himself before fastening his belt. You had since collapsed completely, your body heavy and flat against the floor beneath you. Val stepped over your quivering form and skillfully untied your hands with amazing speed. Your arms came flopping down to your sides as you inhaled fully then exhaled deeply. “Get yourself cleaned up and go rest for the night. I’m gonna need you to do all of that lovely hard work again tomorrow. You can do that for me, right baby?”

“Yes, daddy~”

#hazbin valentino #valentino #valentino hazbin hotel #Valentino hazbin #hazbin hotel valentino #val hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #valentino x you #valentino smut #hazbin smut #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin x you #hazbin x y/n #hazbin hotel smut #val x reader

607 notes · View notes

physalian · 2 months

Text

What No One Tells you about Writing #3

Opening this up to writing as a whole, because it turns out I have a lot more to say!

Part 1

Part 2

1. You don’t fall in love with your characters immediately

But when you do, it’s a hit of serotonin like no other. I’d been writing a tight cast of characters for my sci-fi series since 2016 and switched over in a bout of writer’s block this year to my new fantasy book. I made it about ⅓ through writing the book going through the motions, unable to visualize what these new characters look like, sound like, or would behave like without a ‘camera’ on them.

Then, all of a sudden, I opened my document to keep on chugging with the first draft, and it clicked. They were no longer faceless elements of my plot, they were my characters and I was excited to see what they could accomplish, rooting for them to succeed. Sometimes, it takes a while, but it does come.

2. Sometimes a smaller edit is better than a massive rewrite

Unless you’re changing the trajectory of your entire plot, or a character’s arc really is unrecoverable, sometimes even a single line of dialogue, a single paragraph of introspection, or a quick exchange between two characters can change everything. If something isn’t working, or your beta readers consistently aren’t jiving with a character you yourself love, try taking a step back, looking at who they are as a person, and boil down what your feedback is telling you and it might demand a simpler fix than you expect.

Tiny details inserted at the right moment can move mountains. Fan theories stand on the backs of these minutiae. One sentence can turn a platonic relationship romantic. One sentence can unravel a fair and just argument. One sentence can fill or open a massive plot hole.

3. Outline? What outline?

Not every book demands weeks upon weeks of prep and worldbuilding. I would argue that jumping right in with only a vague direction in mind gives you a massive advantage: You can’t infodump research you haven’t done. Exposition is forced to come as the plot demands it, because you haven’t designed it yet.

Not every story is simple and straightforward, but even penning the first draft with your vague plan, *then* going back and adding in deeper worldbuilding elements, more thematic details, richer character development, can get you over the writer’s block hurdle and make it far less intimidating to just shut up and write the book.

4. It’s okay to let your characters take the wheel

I’ve seen writing advice that chastises authors who let their characters run wild, off the plan the story has for them. Yeah, doing this can harm your pacing and muddy a strong and consistent arc, but refusing to leave the box of your outline greatly limits your creativity. I do this particularly when writing romantic relationships (and end up like Captain Crunch going Oops! All Gays!).

Did I plan for these two to get together? No, it just happened organically as I wrote them talking, getting closer, getting to know each other better in the circumstances they find themselves in. Was this character meant to be gay? Well, he wasn’t meant to be straight, but you know what, he’d work really well with this other boy over here. None of that would have happened if I was bound and determined to follow my original plan, because my original plan didn’t account for how the story that I want to tell evolves. You aren’t clairvoyant—it’s okay if it didn’t end up where you thought it would.

5. Fight. Scenes. Suck.

Which is crazy because I love fantasy and sci-fi, the actiony-est genres. Some authors love battle scenes and fistfights. It comes naturally to them and I will forever be jealous. I hate fight scenes. I hate blocking and choreographing them. I hate how it doesn’t read like I’m watching a movie. I hate how it could take me hours to write a scene I can read in 5 minutes. I hate that there’s no way around it except to just not write them, or put in the elbow grease and practice.

Whatever your writing kryptonite is, don’t be too hard on yourself. It won’t ever replicate the movie in your head, but our audience isn’t privy to that movie and will be none the wiser of how this didn’t fit your expectations, because it’s probably awesome on its own. It could be a fight scene, sex scene, epic battle, cavalry charge, courtroom argument, car chase—whatever. Be patient, and kind to yourself and it will all come together.

6. Write the scenes you want to write first

And then be prepared to never use them. It can be mighty difficult working backwards from a climax and figuring out how to write the story around it, but if you’re sitting at your laptop staring at your cursor and watching it blink, stuck on a tedious moment that’s necessary but frustrating, go write something exciting. Even if that amazing scene ends up no longer working in the book your story becomes, you still get practice by writing it. Particularly if you hate beginnings or the pressure of a perfect first page is too high, you’re allowed to write any other moment in the book first.

And with that, be prepared to kill your darlings. Not your characters, I mean that one badass line of dialogue living rent free in your head. That epic monologue. That whump scenario for your favorite character. Sometimes it just doesn’t work out anymore, but even if it ends up in the trash, you can always salvage something from it, even if that’s only the knowledge of what not to do in the future.

7. “This is clearly an author insert.” … Yes. It is. Point?

No one likes Mary Sues, because a character who doesn’t struggle or learn to get everything they want in life is uncompelling. The most flagrant author inserts I see aren’t Mary Sues, they’re nerdy, awkward, boring white guys whose world changes to fit their perspective, instead of the other way around—they don’t have anything to say. I’m not the intended audience to relate to these characters and I accept that, but I don’t empathize with the so-called “strong female character” who also doesn’t have flaws or an arc either.

A good author insert? When the author gives their characters pieces of themselves. When the “author insert” struggles and learns and grows and it’s a therapeutic experience just writing these characters thrown into such horrible situations. They feel human when they’re given pieces of a human’s soul. They have real human flaws and idiosyncrasies. I don’t care if the author wrote themselves as the protagonist. I care that this protagonist is entertaining. So if you want to make yourself the hero of your book, go for it! But make sure you look in the mirror and write in your flaws, as much as your strengths.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #fantasy #scifi #what no one tells you about writing

596 notes · View notes

cupcakeinat0r · 2 months

Text

A Nerdy Middle-aged loser Miguel with a dad bod who teaches your genetics class

Head Canons!

Professor O’Hara was an intimidating man, to say the least. Despite his menacing exterior, he came highly recommended and sought after as a professor due to his ability to clearly get the material across. At times, it felt cutthroat, but he only meant well. He was just very passionate about his job and wanted everyone to learn.

You didn’t think he was scary at all. In fact, that first day of lecture, you new you were doomed. All you saw was a poor, misunderstood, teddy bear of a man. You thought it was so endearing how his glasses sat low on the bridge of his nose, or how he filled out his button ups and vests: equal parts of muscle and squish <3

n you totally stared at his huge butt and dick print oops what I didn’t say that what-

Professor O’Hara who’s scowl would melt away when you’d hurry into class, completely dismissing that fact that you were late. People who had him previously would be so confused that the Miguel O’Hara is stumbling on his own words during a lecture. Little did they know that it was because you, his very pretty and very eager student, was sitting front row and center. You’d fix your hair or apply lip gloss hoping you’d get his attention, and you succeeded.

Professor O’Hara thought you were so cute. He loved the way you dressed, the way you’d raise your hand and ask such good questions, the way you took notes, making them look equally as adorable as you. It didn’t help that you were a total ace in his class. Your brains n beauty were going straight to both of his heads……..

Professor O’Hara who although was naturally pretty distant and quiet with students, was trying very hard to be vocal with you, making sure to let you know when you were doing good. “Good job today, Mama.” “Thank you for being so involved in class today, mama, I appreciate it.” “Aye, Mama, make sure you get some sleep before the quiz tomorrow, mkay?” “Have a safe weekend, mama, and please, if you need anything, you have my email. It doesn’t matter what time it is.” and if he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, he’d definitely leave notes for you when handing back your work <3

Professor O’Hara who now wakes up earlier and takes longer to get ready in the morning. For you. He would put on his most expensive cologne knowing you liked to ask for help. You’d smell it every time he bent over your desk behind you, enough so that the timbre of his low voice tickled your ear and his belly just barely grazing your back.

Professor O’Hara who was developing his own crush on you, even though it was definitely wrong. Besides, you were a model. He was convinced that even if he were a student, he wouldn’t have a chance with you.

Professor O’Hara who always felt his eyes gravitating toward you in the mass of seats when lecturing, as if he forgot what you looked like and needed to see your face again. You’d tilt your head n give him a smile each time he did, as if telling him you’re following along, and this rattled him. He’d smile back right before shying away from your gaze, clearing his throat and starting wherever he left off on in his lesson. You thought that was cute.

Professor O’Hara who was always there for you when you were troubled, his office becoming a place you frequented for comfort. He was a great ear, elbows on his knees and brows furrowed as he listened to your trials and tribulations. Pobrecita preciosa. He hated seeing you this way. His bear hugs always seemed to make the troubles go away.

Professor O’Hara who would praise you after seeing all the work you put into his class. Anytime you were stressed, he’d take you some place other than his office to relax, maybe buy you some tea or your favorite pastry. He’d take those opportunities to learn more about you, asking you in a gentle, sweet tone about your other studies, your goals, your life etc. he’d hopelessly fall for you even more when watching you speak about things you were passionate about, seeing how your eyes sparkled. He’d try to keep his composure by maintaining a stoic expression, but a small smile would crack every time. He was a melting mess.

Professor O’Hara who would keep all your assignments and reread them at home since you liked to leave him little notes like, “ So lucky to have you as a professor” “Amazing class today!” “Looking forward to our tutoring sesh tmw<3”, the curvy letters of your pretty hand writing feeding into his desires for you, those same desires going from wholesome to more lustful.

Professor O’Hara, who’s walls you break down with your kindness, intelligence, humility, and beauty. He’d play with your hair during tutoring sessions, buy you things that reminded him of you, call you ‘mama’ when no one else was around. He loved the way you knit your brows together telling him he shouldn’t be spending money on you as he’s already doing so much for you already, to which he replies, “You deserve it, and more, mama”.

Professor O’Hara who, when you stay after class to help him clean (because you volunteered to, otherwise, Miguel would never let you lift even a finger because you’re a princess), instead of picking up stray mechanical pencils, he would imagine you picking up stranded toys in the living room. He’d imagine what it’s like living life with you, having a life with you, then immediately shoo those absurd thoughts away after realizing he’s falling for you after only months of knowing you.

Professor O’Hara who genuinely cares about your well-being, wants to see you succeed and get everything you want and deserve. Who wants the absolute best for you.

A/n: Just some hcs before I continue the story…. I won’t edge y’all for long so just bear w meeeeee <3333

Tags <3

@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @maomaimao @pomakori @rxckstarss @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @ce3stvu @m4dyy @kaidxra

Want more DadBod!Miguel? Here’s my master list, bae!!!

#miguel o'hara #professor!miguel #dadbod!miguel #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara fanfiction #atsv #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara headcanon #miguel o’hara atsv #spider man 2099 #miguel fic #miguel fanfic #miguel o’hara x y/n

627 notes · View notes

d1xonss · 3 months

Text

Older

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 6

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Suggestive (oop)

✧ Word Count : 5k

AN ~ …This one might need a part two, that’s all I’m going to say.

“Stop.”

Your mouth parted a little in shock that he had interrupted you, embarrassment filling your entire being as you could feel the heat rising up to your cheeks, no doubt leaving a red hue on your skin. You attempted to read him, trying to figure out what he was thinking just by his face and body language, but you were left with nothing. His expression was neutral, his arms were crossed over his chest as they always were, and his eyes didn’t even give you a flash of indication of what he planned to say next. Though somehow you had a feeling you knew it was something you would dread.

It had been years now that you had been crushing on the older man, from Atlanta to all the way here in your new homes in Alexandria, you had always felt these very strong feelings for him. And though you knew the age gap was definitely something to recognize, you never cared in the slightest as your fondness for him over the years only seemed to grow.

Daryl Dixon was a very serious man, though he mostly kept to himself, no one could deny that he was also a very kindhearted person. He was constantly putting others before himself, protecting nearly everyone in the group even if that meant his life was on the line instead, he did it as if it was just second nature to him. Like he didn’t even have to think before he acted. That’s what you admired most about him, only causing you to fall deeper than you already were, digging yourself further into the hole you couldn’t seem to escape.

It was hard for some to believe, but you truly tried to push these feelings aside, mostly because you thought there was no way in hell he would ever feel the same way about you. But it was growing to be unbearable, the secret you had been keeping to yourself for so long beginning to eat you up inside.

So you finally decided to bite the bullet and just tell him. You didn’t know what exactly compelled you to do so since you had such a huge fear of rejection from him and didn’t want him to see you differently, but still you just threw yourself into the lion’s den it seemed like. But there was a little hope you had when you approached him to confess. The soft smile playing on his lips was enough for you to spill everything, seeing that there was a small chance he might’ve felt something similar. It wasn’t a secret that he had grown to care for you too, so you guessed you could really take that chance.

But now all your hope diminished instantly when he interrupted your sentence with just one word. One single word that caused your stomach to flip. You felt yourself begin to panic a little as you stood there, seconds after pouring your heart out and laying everything out on the table, and he wanted you to stop. You suddenly wished you could take everything back in that split second, tell him you were joking or make something else up on the spot. Anything to escape from this sudden situation.

He then sighed heavily as he raised his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “Look…yer a really sweet girl and I care bout ya…but…ya can’t be sayin all this. M’ way too old for ya.”

Your heart seemed to drop upon hearing that, knowing in the back of your mind, that little aspect would be the thing he brought all his attention to. You had to admit however that it was a pretty big difference, twenty years to be exact where you stood at twenty-four while he was already pushing forty-five. But still, you were an adult and felt that you could make your own choices when it came to something like this, something that he wasn’t willing to listen to any longer.

Daryl noticed your silence, seeing the look you had on your face and he grew almost sympathetic as he looked at you. “Look ya can’t be…fallin for me. It ain’t right.”

That sentence seemed to break you out of your trance. Annoyance began to brew inside you as he was now starting to almost talk down on you as if you were a kid, crossing your arms over your chest in frustration. “Who are you to tell me what isn’t right?” you asked with furrowed brows.

He noticed your change in mood and only sighed to himself again, “I just mean that…” he trailed off as he never wanted to hurt you or deny you, but honesty was more important to him. And this was something he knew he needed to be blunt about. “I ain’t the guy for ya, no matter how ya feel. We’re just too far apart.”

“That’s not true.” you were quick to defend.

Daryl’s eyes narrowed the smallest bit, “It is true.” he said a bit more sternly, “Yer so young and m’ a lot older…besides I ain’t what they call boyfriend material…it would never work.” he claimed.

Your eyes narrowed even further, “I’m not just some kid Daryl, how old do you even think I am?”

He scoffed to himself as he looked at you a little longer, “I dunno…” he spoke as he didn’t want you to really know the age that popped up in his head. If you were really as young as he thought, it would be disgusting to even think about being with you.

“I’m twenty four.”

His eyes widened slightly as he thought about your words for only a moment, before he went back to scoffing to himself, “Well if I didn’t know any better I’d say yer lyin.”

Your frustration only began to build up further as he didn’t believe you. Though maybe he did. Maybe he did believe you, he just didn’t want to believe you. He didn’t want to admit or accept that your age wasn’t as bad as he originally thought, he just put up a wall to defend himself like he always seemed to.

But you were prepared to call him out on his bullshit. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were scared.”

“Scared?” he repeated, his lip turning up into an amused smile, “And what am I scared of?”

“Scared of your own feelings.” you said with little to no hesitation at all, stating the obvious and seeing right through him.

The man’s expression remained the same, but something in his eyes flickered with something more, and you couldn’t help but smirk to yourself once you caught it. He stayed silent for what felt like an eternity, pondering over your words as he desperately didn’t want you to see his hesitance as he stood there with a straight face. But you had clearly caught on.

After almost minutes of deafening silence, he finally spoke again in a sarcastic tone, “So ya think ya got me all figured out then, huh?”

You could see his exterior cracking the smallest bit and decided to take a chance. You began to move forward slowly, closing the remaining space between the two of you from the opposite sides of where you stood in his living room. His eyes widened ever so slightly as you got almost uncomfortably close to him, your chests nearly touching as you looked up to him with big doe eyes.

“Yeah…yeah I do.” you answered barely above a whisper.

Daryl subtly sucked in a soft breath at your words, your close proximity, everything that just seemed to draw him in. He desperately wanted to take a few steps away, wanting to tell you something harsh so you would stop being so damn persistent, but he couldn’t seem to find the strength. He stood there almost completely frozen as his heart began beating rapidly, questioning if you could hear it in the silence with how close you were to him.

You could feel yourself smirk slightly as he grew completely silent again, nodding to yourself as you decided to stop tormenting him. At least for now. “Well…since you made your intentions clear…I guess I’ll just see you around then…” you said quietly before turning on your heel to leave his house, to leave him to his now racing thoughts.

His tongue seemed to be tied into a knot as all he could do was watch you leave through the front door, a heat blooming on his cheeks. He began questioning to himself if all of that really just happened, if he was really as transparent as you claimed he was. His mind began to spiral with thousands of thoughts, but not even he could deny that small spark he felt in his chest, one that he had never felt before.

The next day wasn’t any better for him, his mind constantly flooding with the thoughts of that small interaction, not stopping himself from thinking back to your confession as a whole. There was no way he could feel such a thing for someone as young as you…could he? It all felt very wrong and twisted in a way, but he couldn’t stop thinking of you constantly throughout the entire day, how complicated everything seemed to be. He didn’t pull away. Why the hell didn’t he pull away? It was almost as if he liked your closeness, being able to almost feel the warmth of your body…almost as if he craved it more than he realized.

Over the few years he had gotten to know you, he couldn’t deny that he thought you were very beautiful from the start, but he didn’t dare let his mind linger there for long. There was no way he could be with you, it all seemed so wrong to him in his mind and he had to put a stop to those thoughts immediately once they entered his mind. But with everything that went down yesterday, he couldn’t help but be reminded of those familiar feelings he once seemed to have long ago, seeing them rise back up to the surface before his very eyes.

He needed to see you. He couldn’t help but think about you throughout the entire day as if you had somehow put him under a spell, compelling him to eventually crawl back. He didn’t know what he planned to say, he didn’t even know if he should even try to speak about this hovering matter anymore. But he physically needed to see you again. Even if it was just for a few minutes. He needed to feel that spark again.

So after his long patrol, he found himself heading straight towards your house the second he was finished, walking at a fast pace down the streets all the way up until he could see your familiar house just around the corner. His breathing was almost heavy in anticipation as he got closer, hopping up the porch steps in a flash before he hesitated when he was face to face with your front door. He hesitated for a long moment, longer than he was willing to admit, before he finally gave it a heavy knock.

You were inside cooking yourself some dinner when you heard a loud knock coming from your front door, your brows furrowing in confusion at who it could be as you quickly cleaned your hands off with a towel. You made your way closer towards the entrance with a little anticipation weighing in your heart, the sound of the firm knock sounding like it was something urgent. But the moment you looked through the peephole and saw who was standing on the other side, you immediately smirked to yourself. You almost couldn't believe he was actually seeking you out.

You opened the door after a moment or two, leaning against the frame with a smile as you looked at him with a smile, “Hi Daryl.” you greeted with a hint of flirtation to your voice.

Your tone surprised him slightly as he stopped for a moment to take you in, his nerves resurfacing the moment you looked him in the eye. But eventually he cleared his throat a little and sent you a small smile, “Hey.”

“Did you need something?” you asked sweetly.

You were playing with him now, both of you knew it too. He didn’t exactly know what he came over here for, almost as if he didn’t really know what he wanted, but all he could feel was that same feeling rushing over him again once more at the sound of your voice. It was almost comforting to him, something he hadn’t felt in a very long time, and his heart began to beat even faster once he realized just how much he needed more of it.

You tilted your head at him expectantly, and it was then and only then he realized he didn’t answer your question. He shook his head a little to rid of his loud thoughts before finally mustering up a response. “Nah…I don’t need anythin. Just…just wanted to see ya.”

He could see your eyes soften as you looked up at him through your long eyelashes, the sight bringing a warmth through his chest, settling at the bottom of his stomach as he looked at you. “Aw…that’s so sweet.” you said as you placed a hand over your chest.

His eyes widened ever so slightly as he heard just the smallest bit of praise from you, if you could even call it that. But he found he liked the sound of you calling him sweet, and he found he loved the idea of you calling him other things. He felt himself slip almost as your words seemed to affect him well, almost a little too well, feeling himself swallow thickly as he tried to figure out what to say to you next.

“Do…do you mind if I come in for a bit?” he mustered up.

Your face dropped a little bit upon hearing that, though mentally you almost felt yourself light up at the sudden opportunity to turn the tables around on him. “Oh…I don’t know…” you trailed off as you eventually let the smirk return to your face, “Wouldn’t that be…wrong?” I asked with a hinting tone.

The man was stunned a little as his only response to you was silence. He stood there almost completely still at the sound of you throwing his own words back up at his face like that, but then again you had a point. He did say those things to you, he made it very obvious and certain. Yet he couldn’t help but silently smirk to himself at the game you seemed to be playing now.

“I don’t think it’s such a good idea…” you continued on.

He hears his own phrase being used against him again and damn did it feel better than it should’ve. He found himself growing a little excited as you continued on, leaning himself against the doorway a little as he looked down at you with almost hungry eyes.

“Well…maybe I like doin things that are wrong.” he stated.

You clicked your tongue in response as you shook your head, “That’s not what you said the other day, I heard you…I’m just following the rules.” you said as you moved to shut the door.

But his hand came up and quickly caught it before you could shut him out all the way, pushing it back open a little with a raised brow. “Now what’s with you and all these goddamn rules now, hm? Who even made em?” he asked as he felt himself falling right into your trap, flirting right back with you like you wanted.

“You did.” you said simply, watching his face drop a little at your response, “You made it very clear, and I understand...” you said simply before moving to shut the door right in his face.

The man was stunned to say the least seeing the door almost touching the tip of his nose, his expression flustered and his heart hammering. He groaned to himself in annoyance as he slowly turned on his heel to leave, his irritation not directed at you per say, but how you made him feel.

It was far too complicated, but you were playing him like a damn fiddle and he knew it. He supposed that maybe he deserved a little of the shit you were giving him seeing as he turned you down in the first place, but how much were you willing to drag this on for? He was growing attached, too attached, and now he was wrapped around your little finger instead of the other way around. He saw how desperate you looked in the beginning as you confessed everything to him, he saw that look in your eye. But now you had completely flipped the script and made him out to be the one growing desperate. It was frustrating…but in the most captivating way.

A week seemed to pass by in a flash just like that, the two of you going back and forth, leading to you teasing him to no end. He knew there were plenty of times where he could’ve just walked away from the situation, but he was so tempted to keep playing along in the game you entertained. And it was working more than he was willing to admit, his mind not being able to stop thinking about you and slowly feeling himself break. He didn’t want to cave and admit how much he had been thinking of you, how much he wanted you, but it was getting harder and harder every time he saw you. Every bat of your eyelashes, every flash of your small and perfect smile had him absolutely crumbling.

And what he seemed to be dreading the most now was a bonfire being hosted by a neighbor in the community, everyone being invited to the event.

At first Daryl debated on going at all, knowing that you would probably be there taunting him in the best way you knew how. But he couldn’t help but want to feed into that temptation, just looking for another excuse to see you again. Though in all honesty he didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up. How much longer he could hold out as you played with him until he would completely break right in front of your eyes for you to see. He hated to admit it even to himself, but he was growing more and more desperate for you, which he knew is exactly what you wanted. But he didn’t care at this point. He would let you do whatever you wanted to him if he knew he could finally have you.

You on the other hand however were looking forward to the event. You took your time picking out your outfit, settling on a shorter skirt and a black top that left just enough to the imagination, almost not being able to contain your excitement and mischief when thinking about seeing him again. In all honesty, you didn’t expect him to continue to feed into what was supposed to be just a little teasing, it surprised you beyond repair to see him playing along as much as he was. Though you knew he had grown to like it, he had grown to fall for you more than before. And you loved it.

Once the day was finally over and the stars just began to rise into the sky, the time came for everyone to attend the little get together as the bonfire was beginning to light up Alexandria with its orange glow. People began to arrive in pairs and groups to the get together, greeting one another politely with smiles and hugs, but Daryl found himself planted in the corner of the small party. His eyes kept scanning around for you subconsciously, his nerves only growing as he convinced himself not to fall apart for you, to not fall into his desires.

But then he caught sight of you finally arriving, seeing the things you were wearing, and he immediately seemed to lose his train of thought right then and there. He was now reminded why he so desperately wanted to give in, why he wanted to give away every part of himself to you as he watched you smile and greet a few people passing by. You knew how to get to him, how to make him nervous, knowing exactly which strings to pull to get him all hot and bothered. It’s all what made you so absolutely alluring.

He watched you from a distance for a while with his arms crossed over his chest, not being able to approach you as you always seemed to be speaking with someone. His patience was growing thin and his destress was building as all he wanted was to talk to you, to see you up close. The way you were dressed, the way you wore your hair up only to have a few stray pieces aligning your face, it was beginning to drive him crazy.

But then an opportunity seemed to open up right before his very eyes as he saw you walk away off by yourself, just close enough towards the fire to feel the warmth, yet far enough from everyone else so he could finally approach you. He swallowed thickly at the thought of the things he was easily getting himself into, but he couldn’t help it as it seemed like his feet had minds of their own, practically floating right over to you. His steps were quiet as he approached you from behind, not wanting to scare you, but wanting to catch you off guard for once.

When he was finally close enough just to hover over you, it was only then that he spoke, “Hey.” he said quietly.

But you hardly even flinched, as if you knew of his presence approaching the whole time as you turned to look at him with a smile, “Hi Daryl.”

God the way you said his name drove him almost to a point of insanity, wanting you to say it over and over again as you voice was sweet and warm like honey. It’s almost impossible to resist you in this moment in time, taking in your appearance up close and getting a whiff of your intoxicating perfume as a gust of wind blows by was enough to send him over the edge. Leading to a point of no return.

But still, he somehow managed to keep his composure, “You look nice.” he commented sweetly, a small smile crossing his lips.

Your eyes practically lit up at the compliment he gave you, subconsciously smoothing down your skirt as you looked up at him, “You think so?” you subtly flirted.

His mouth parted to respond, but he couldn’t seem to find the right words. But he does think so, in fact he’s thinking almost a little too much about how amazing you look in front of the glowing fire.

A smirk was brought to your face as he didn’t respond to your question, diverting his attention to your body once more as your voice quieted down to a whisper, “You don’t think my skirt’s too…short…right?”

His eyes seemed to trail back down just as you wanted them too, eyeing your legs for a dangerously long time at the brief question that fell from your lips. His mouth was agape as he found he couldn’t look away, the feeling bubbling inside him almost being too overbearing as he desperately tried to swallow and lubricate his dry throat.

Though he eventually found himself shaking his head as his gaze trailed back up to your eyes, “Nah…it’s fine.” he breathed.

“You sure?” you asked again playfully, “I can always go home and change if you think it’s too much-”

“N-No,” he interrupted quickly, “I kinda like it actually.” he blurted before his mind even had a chance to stop him. Though he feels the embarrassment wash over him the moment the words left his mouth, coming to the realization of what he had just said.

But much to his relief, he saw you smile a bit wider, “I’m glad you like it…” you admitted as you suddenly leaned in further to him to whisper in his ear, “...I wore it just for you.”

Daryl’s body went rigid and his mind seemed to go completely blank, his heart beating twice as fast as it was before. Just for him? You wore that pretty little thing just for him? His mouth became very dry once again, his knees feeling weaker, especially when you laughed lightly to yourself at his speechless state, pulling back a little to stand next to him normally before anyone could notice. Oh god, it hit him, what if anyone noticed.

His eyes then did a quick scan around the sea of people, but none of them seemed to catch onto the interactions he was having with such a young girl. That sent a wave of relief through him, bringing his attention back towards you as you hadn’t stopped staring at him the entire time it seemed like.

“So…are you enjoying yourself?” you ask him with a seductive tone to your voice.

The older man sucked in a breath at your tone, seeing that twinkle in your eye that was nearly impossible to resist, “Yeah…I am.” he finally responded.

You smile to yourself as you heard his confirmation, “Good.” you nodded.

He then quietly groaned to himself, almost as if he couldn’t take it anymore, turning to face you better as he collected himself and looked you in the eye, “Why ya always gotta tease me like that?”

You physically felt the wicked grin cross over your face, “Because it’s fun.” you said simply, slowly venturing out to tease him further as you reached out to trail your finger up and down his clothed, toned arm. “But if you don’t like it…I can stop.”

His breathing then became shaky as he nearly quivered under the small ounce of your touch, only imagining what it would be like if you touched him even more. But then it hit him that you threatened to stop playing with him as much as you were, breaking him out of his thoughts as he could still feel your touch burning through the fabric of his shirt.

“...Never said I didn’t like it…”

Your gaze looked back up at his face as your movements stopped completely, your faces only inches apart now it seemed like in such a public setting. “Are you sure…? You can be honest if you don’t want this anymore.” you teased again.

He almost caught himself groaning again as you stopped touching him, not even imagining any scenario where he could ever say no to you. In fact, all of this was just slowly feeding more into the desire and lust that continued to build.

“No, no…I want this.” he assured quickly, in fear that you would completely pull away if he didn’t answer you fast enough.

Seeing him near his breaking point, so close to dangling over the edge, you wondered if you could get him to admit it out loud. You fully took your hand away then, leaning in further to whisper. “Tell me what you want.”

Daryl’s mind goes on some kind of frenzy as he could only think of you. Your voice, your touch, everything. He only wanted you.

“I want you…” he finally broke.

Though upon hearing his answer, he saw your eyes forming into almost sympathy as you stared at him, similar in the way he looked at you when you confessed your feelings for him. “Oh…but you know that’s not allowed.” he hears you say with a sigh.

All logical reason leaves the man’s mind in an instant it seems like as he watched you deny him, feeling as if you were going to pull away fully and reject him for good. He felt defeated as all he wanted now was for you to give it up, stop toying with him and finally give in to let him have you. He learned his lesson, that much was certain, now all he needed to do was convince you somehow.

“Please…”

The moment you heard his plea, you nearly shivered in anticipation seeing how much he was falling apart now, not being able to handle it anymore. But still, you didn’t cave right away. “You said I was too young.” you gently reminded him.

“I don’t care.” he whispers without a second thought, his voice barely being able to come out at all. He found he didn’t care anymore, all he could think about was you. How much he wanted you, needed you. Now.

Your eyes widen in the smallest bit of surprise at his sudden desperateness, “But you do care. You told me so yourself.”

He shakes his head almost frantically, “No, no, that was then. This is now. Nobody even needs to know…we can keep it between us…”

Shock is evident on your features at his suggestion, something about it making you want to finally give it up and give into his requests. That is what you were trying to do since the beginning, making him realize how much he truly wanted you, and now you had it. All you had to do was say the word.

He sees the look of consideration on your face, a feeling of hope filling his chest as he leans closer to you, “Please…” he whispered once more.

You swallowed a bit thickly as your prepared to open your mouth to respond to him, but another voice quickly cut into the silence between you two, causing Daryl to practically jump away from you suddenly as if he was just burned.

“Y/N!” Carol’s voice called out as she approached, completely oblivious to what was just happening moments ago, “Come on, there’s some new people I want you to meet.” she said eagerly as she took you by the arm, and dragging you away from the man.

Daryl huffed in irritation as he watched you get pulled away, collecting himself quickly as he looked around and licked his lips in annoyance. The older man was now just stuck there alone as you were taken elsewhere, left to ponder over the things that was said between you two. It’s almost a painful fate he was placed in, but yet it’s the one he deserved for playing along with you in the first place.

~ Thanks for reading!

Part 2!

745 notes · View notes

mire1li · 3 months

Text

Reader as Alastor's Mother part 3

So I took a little while oops Part 1!, Part 2!

𓋼 You brush his hair every morning. He pretends to find it annoying but he secretly loves it.

Whenever you'd brush his hair, you'd sometimes mention how short it was and that you couldn't do any hairstyles with it, which, on one hand, was good for his pride, but on the other hand, made you sad which also made him slightly sad. So he made the very rational decision to grow his hair out for you so that you could style it one day!

"Alastor, is your hair longer than before?"

"Hm? Is it?" he would never admit he did it for you! 𓋼 At one point, you were in the lobby with everyone else and you started wondering about Alastor's ears since he never actually mentioned anything, of course, you remembered Charlie's constant pleading to pet him, to which he always refused with his typical "Ha! No.", which made you more curious, if perhaps you could get away with it as his mother.

So, only naturally, you placed your hand atop his head and pet him, his ears lightly twitching. Charlie squealed. Of course she did.

"Oh my gosh! Can I do that too?!" she asked

"Haha! Absolutely not."

She wasn't very happy. She ended up pouting the entire day, Vaggie having to comfort her. To Charlie, it was like someone telling her not to pet a cute cat! Absolutely heartbreaking 𓋼 On that specific day, you also asked if he had a tail, and considering he had ears, it would make sense for there to be a tail too. Of course, silly Alastor was too embarrassed to answer in front of everyone, so he avoided the question!

"You're very positive today, Mother, did something good happen?"

"Nothing in particular, so about your tail-!"

"That's for me to know and you to… maybe, find out, Mother!"

You asked him about it again when you two weren't around the others, so he decided to show you! it was a nice revelation. 𓋼 You noticed that the shadow Alastor has following you around all the time, sometimes disappears, so you used that opportunity to go meet Lucifer as he invited you for tea countless times, and who are you to decline such a kind invitation?

When Alastor realised he couldn't find you anywhere in the hotel, he panicked and searched every inch of it multiple times, until Vaggie had finally had enough and asked him what happened.

"What are you doing, Alastor?"

"Searching for my Mother! She's gone missing, you see!" of course, he had a menacing look on his face.

"She mentioned she was going out for a while"

"Oh? And did she say… where?"

"Nope, well anyway, good luck!"

Yeah, Vaggie just left him. So he waited for you patiently at the hotel entrance. When you finally returned, he clung to you like his life depended on it, asking you many questions. 𓋼 I feel like whenever the Overlords had important, confidential, meetings, Alastor would immediately return to the hotel and tell you all about them, whether it be out of spite or fun. You definitely enjoyed knowing all the things going on in hell. 𓋼 You and Niffty put makeup on him when he was asleep and pinned his hair back (Alastor was pretending to sleep, just letting you two do your thing). Angel started laughing and giving him silly nicknames when he saw his hair, which inevitably caused him to shake his head very fast, removing the pin from his hair. 𓋼 Your first birthday with everyone. Of course, Alastor threw you a party. It was meant to be a surprise but considering he’s always with you, you found out because he was more secretive than before (you managed to guilt-trip him into telling you what he was hiding) 𓋼 For Christmas (if you celebrate it), you decorate Alastor with Christmas lights! He says he hates it but he definitely doesn’t, although it certainly made him a little bit scarier when he did that spooky thing with his eyes!

"Mother. Please do explain again why you decided to put christmas lights on me."

"You're more colourful this way!" you turned the lights on, so that now they were switching between multiple colours

Angel and Niffty ended up hanging a few baubles on his antlers too, before he noticed. 𓋼 Charlie had asked about your time alive so you began telling her, and everyone else who was listening, about some silly stories! When Alastor came into the lobby and heard you telling an embarrassing story about him, his ears lightly twitched and flattened against his head. He was just a little bit embarrassed.

Of course, he tried to leave again, unnoticed, however, the all-too bubbly charlie saw him and invited him to join.

"Alastor! [Name] was just telling us stories, come join us!"

"No"

"Alastor, darling, Charlie is being very kind! You need to be around these souls more! Come join."

Of course, he can't say no to you, so he ended up sitting by your side as you continued to tell the story about him, you lightly pet him and hugged him from time to time. Although his ears still stayed flat against his head. 𓋼 You wanted to make a flower crown, but since no flowers actually existed in hell, you had to make do with other things (paper). Yes, you made paper flowers and then turned them into a makeshift flower crown, which you then placed on top of Alastor's head.

"Mother?"

"Darling, I made you a paper flower crown!" 𓋼 Alternatively, you may've decided to sneak out again to find Lucifer.

"Luci, can you sneak us into Heaven?"

"Heaven?! Why?"

"I need flowers"

"Why would you need flowers?"

"To make Alastor a flower crown!"

Yeah, he wasn't too excited about that idea but he still agreed, although it did take a bit of… bribery…

"I'll… give you a kiss if you agree!"

"Let's go!" he opened the portal immediately and took you with him.

In the end, you got all the flowers you needed (after being chased out by Lute and Adam), so you were both… somewhere in hell, for sure.

"So… about what you said, before I got us into Heaven…"

"Oh, right!" You never specified where you'd kiss him so you simply kissed his cheek, he was a little disappointed but it's alright, you got Alastor a lovely flower crown! 𓋼 I feel like he would've been very afraid of spiders when he was alive, and then you were left with the task to exterminate any that entered your home (whether or not you were also afraid) 𓋼 You were quite a fan of new technology (though not completely obsessed), it made life far easier for you, though Alastor always 'confiscated' everything when he was around as he wasn't too keen on it.

"Mother, I don't see what you like about this device so much."

"It's simple to use and makes things quite a bit simpler than back when we were alive."

"I think it's pointless."

"Yes, you've always been a fan of radio… I see that obsession has stuck, even after death"

"It is not an obsession, Mother. I prefer 'fascination'!"

425 notes · View notes

adoresia · 10 months

Text

✦˚₊ TRUST ME I GOT NOTHING FOR YOU OTHER THAN LOVE…

Pairing : E42 Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : Miles finds it hard to open up to you about whats going on in his life, after a little persuading he finally tells you about whats bothering him so much.

Sierra speaks : FIRST OF ALL… thank you guys so much for all the love on my last fic it means so much to me🫶🏾🥹 it took so long for me to build up the courage to start posting… Here is another fic i had in my notes to make you guys happy! I litterally have a bunch of fics and fic ideas stored for myself and now..im sharing them with you!🥳 enjoy!! also this is a little longer than i had planned…

Warnings ❕: Miles almost crying 🥹, rubbish spanish, heavly suggestive (oops), kissing, cussing, teasing???.

Listen too’s :

YALL BETTER LISTEN TO THE SONGS I PAIR WITH THESE FICS ISTG.

You leaned on the railing on your balcony, eyes fixated on Miles’s tall figure walking back and forth outside your apartment complex.

It was well pass midnight and the street lights were the only thing illuminating the darkness of your Brooklyn neighbourhood.

He was by himself smoking a blunt. He knew you hated when he smoked so he attempted to keep it from you, however this time he couldn’t really hold himself back.

Life was dragging him through the dirt right now, with the passing of his father and the pressure of being prowler on his back, you could almost mistake Miles for being mute. A part of his life had been ripped away.

And you couldn’t blame him.

It was a struggle for him to open up to you, and despite being together for almost a year, he still struggled to talk to you, to fully open up to you. And even though you welcomed him into your life with open arms, he still did not feel complete. Nothing could replace what he had lost.

Before Miles had found himself outside the both of you were cuddling. With Miles laid between both of your legs, his head rested on your chest while you massaged his scalp with your nails.

Since his arrival he had not uttered a word to you apart from :

“hey baby, ima just stay here from a bit if thats okay.”

He hugged you tight, even tighter than ever before. You could tell something was up, but you let him go at his own pace, weather he wanted to tell you about it or not he knew you would always be there for him.

So here you both lay in silence on your bed, your sheets draped over the both of you. It was like that for an hour. Miles fiddling with the hem of your bra staring at your desk chair.

He blinked like 20 times in the last hour, you could tell he was lost in his thoughts. He looked so over it, and it pained you that there was nothing you could do to help him liven up a little. You kept assuring yourself that it would be temporary. Seeing Miles sad made you sad.

But as the minuted went by Miles stay lost in his sunken thoughts. You couldn’t bare watch him in this state for any longer, even if it meant you had to push him a little.

“What’s wrong hermoso? i’ve never seen you so…down.”

“Nada, Mami. just... thinking.”

“About what papa? sabes que puedes decirme cualquier cosa.”

Miles responded with a hum, not bothering to open his mouth again as it was smushed against your cleavage. The familiar sound of silence re-entered the room, theres nothing else you could say.

“Ima go outside for a bit baby, ill be back.”

He lifted himself off of you so suddenly, sliding on his shoes and giving you a peck on the top of your head without even giving you time to process.

“Where are you going? do you want me to come with-“

“No. I’ll only be a few seconds chiquita.”

“but.”

There were no ‘buts’ he had already shut your door before you could bombard him with questions. Instead your mind filled with them.

Did you push him away? Did you ask too much? say, too much?

Thats how you found yourself staring down at him in the middle of the night, worried. His puffer jacket stay thrown on your desk chair, he had not even thought about bringing it with him, knowing it was quite cold outside. Was he really that desperate to leave? to leave you?

You took a deep breath and decided it was about time you went down for him. You picked up your hoodie, or rather his hoodie; one you stole from him when you went over to his place, sliding into it like a huge blanket.

You put on your slides and grabbed his puffer jacket. Leaving your phone behind.

Pressing on the exit button of your apartment complex you stepped outside. Making sure to put a block on the door so it wouldn’t close, trapping you outside.

You walked towards him almost tip toeing so he couldn’t hear you. You came to a stop behind him watching the smoke blow away with the wind while he brought his arm down beside him, blunt in hand.

“I know your there ma.”

“…”

he laughed looking over his shoulder, you smiled handing him his puffer.

“Its so cold out here even this hoodie isn’t doing me justice, put your jacket on Milo.”

He took his jacket from your hands holding it to his side, seemingly unfazed by your words and the cold.

“Not as an accessory, miles. Put it on. Please.”

“You’re shivering ma, you look like you need it more than i do.”

And instead he places each of the arm holes over your shoulder. You gave up, there was no point in convincing him, and anyways you were still cold even with his giant hoodie on. Goosebumps laddered on your thighs because of your extra short- shorts.

“Hand me the blunt at least. You know i don’t like when you smoke.”

You held your hand out so he could replace the cold air blowing over your palm with the wrapped blunt.

“Yeah im sorry. I’ll try to stop.”

“Sorry doesn’t mean anything if your not gonna change.”

“I know ma. I promise I’ll try.”

“Good.” You stood in-front of him, squinting your eyes.

“Where yo glasses?”

“Inside.”

“Why didn’t you bring them?”

“Because i wasn’t thinking about that at the time. Which actually beings me to why i’m here. I’m worried about you, Miles. You won’t talk to me and if you let these feelings bottle up inside you it won’t…end well.”

“What your gonna break up with me if i dont talk?”

“No… i meant-“

“Then i don’t need to talk. As long as i have you with me theres no need to worry.”

Silence filled the atmosphere between you two again. Miles could sense your disappointment. He let a moment go by watching you huff as you gave up trying to figure out whats wrong with him. You started to make your way back to your apartment before he stopped you with his words.

“Its Ma.”

You spun yourself around to face his back.

“mhmmm.” you signalled for him to continue, walking towards him.

“I aint never seen her this down since dad passed. Her job is taking every single ounce of energy and happiness out of her, she leaves at like 6 in the morning to come home at God knows what time during the night and falls asleep on the couch. She doesn’t have time to even get anything to eat before she has to get up again the next morning to go to work. I can count on my fingers the amount of words she’s said to me this whole week. And last night…”

He came to an abrupt stop, bringing his pointer finger and thumb up to the inner part of his eyes trying to stop himself from crying in front of you.

He let his bottom lip fall letting out a sigh.

“Its okay Milo, you don’t have to finish the rest if you don’t want to. It’s just you and me bonito you can cry, déjalo salir.”

Still with your reassurance he refused to let you see him in this state, but was unable to control the single tear that threatened to drop.

You wiped both his eyes with the pads of your thumb until there was no tears left on his face or his waterline.

“Milo, you don’t have to act all big nd tuff around me. Everyone cries yknow?” you looked up at him while wrapping your arms around him.

“You are so good to me mi amor, ion deserve you.”

“Corny. But i know.” you smiled closing your eyes in his embrace.

he laughed breathily before giving you a kiss to your forehead.

He held your hand turning his head signaling for you both to go back inside.

“It’s low-key getting a bit cold now. I think the only thing keeping me warm was that weed.”

He looked at the now smushed up ball what remained from his blunt. Before eyeing you up and down.

“Cmon lets go, not even these two layers are keeping me warm.”

You pulled on his arm directing him back inside the apartment complex.

Once you got to your door you scrambled everywhere for your keys. Your short pockets, Jacket pockets, hoodie pockets, shit you even checked your afro. Before you thought back to when you grabbed Miles’s jacket and left the room while your keys sat still on your desk.

“Fuck. were locked out.”

“You for real?”

“Nah im just pretending i left the keys inside so we can stay out here in the cold.” you rolled your eyes, thinking maybe that wouldn’t he a bad idea as long as you were with Miles.

He leaned against the wall next to your apartment door pulling you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his torso and laid your head on his chest, the beat of his heart ringing in your ears.

His lips hovered over your head before placing gentle kisses on your scalp.

“How many kisses are you gonna give me Milo.”

“You want me to stop?”

“No..” You smiled to yourself.

“Then stop complaining.”

Lifting his hand from your waist Miles cupped your chin lifting it up so that your eyes would lay on his. His pupil fell to your lips and then back to your eyes. You knew what was up.

“No.”

“Fuck you mean ‘No’.”

Miles mimicked you while you laughed at him, he looked at you unamused.

“Im joking Milo, kiss me.”

“No.”

“FUCK YOU MEAN NO?”

Now it was Miles’s turn to laugh, although you didn’t find it funny a smile still crept up on your face as you narrowed your eyes at him and pondered.

His laugh reminded you of him 2 years ago, when he had a softer personality, happily striding to you or anyone around him with a proud smile on his face, you missed it. And you know he did too.

You stood up still leaning on him but on the tip of your toes. You wrapped your hand around his nape and pulled him in for a well anticipated kiss.

Your lips locked with his, coming together like a jigsaw puzzle. For a moment you envisioned kissing Miles for the first time a year ago, how he didn’t see you coming when you pecked him on the lips. And how he pulled you back kissing you desperately with deep desire.

You lifted up your other arm and wrapped it around his neck while you played with the tip of his braids. Miles wondered his hands down from underneath your shirt to just under your ass. His fingers pushed gently against your skin shooting tingles throughout your body.

At this point your knees were getting weak as your head swayed against his, your mind went into a haze as the heat from the kiss sent you into a bliss. You felt Miles tug on your bottom lip granting himself access to your mouth.

Both your heads sped up the pace bobbing over eachother in sync, Miles feeling insatiable lifted you up to sit on his hips as he turned you both around. You now leaned back on the wall while he rubbed the bottom of your thighs still insatiably kissing you.

Your eyebrows furrowed with pleasure until he pulled away, you both stared into eachothers narrowed eyes breathing heavily.

“Fuck if we were inside right now, the things i’d do to you mami.”

“Break down the door if your that desperate.”

His head fell into your chest as he chuckled. You laid your head on top of his for a while before he let you down.

You both sat outside your apartment door, you on top of miles in a fetal position. Your coat draped over the two of you (barley) as he stroked your forehead with his thumb.

“Te quiero mucho ma, hasta la luna y de regreso.”

He whispered before placing another kiss on your forehead.

“hmm? whatchu say Milo?”

“Nada mami, cierra tus ojos.”

Extrs :

— Yeah your keys were inside, but so were your parents😭 so when your mom opened the door that morning to head of to work the both of you lay there snoring, with your arms wrapped around eachother.

— When you took Miles’s blunt you tried a little yourself 🤫

“Ma.. what are you-”

*heavy coughing*

“so im not allowed but you are-?”

“sh. i was just seeing what the hype was all about *cough* I-I feel like im dying”

Miles just laughs at you.

Please do not copy, translate or repost my work on any other platforms.

#🖋️ sierra writes #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x you #spiderman atsv #atsv miles #prowler miles #prowler x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x you

1K notes · View notes