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#sweet robots against the machine
disease · 1 year
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SWEET ROBOTS AGAINST THE MACHINE MANIS | TOWA TEI, 2002
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pinkanonwrites · 6 months
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HANDS-ON LEARNING
Read 'Handle With Care' here!
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Rodimus/Human Reader, NSFW, First Contact AU, AFAB Reader, GN Pronouns, G/T, Experimental Sex, Fingering, Oral (Receiving)
Since this is a First Contact fic, dialogue that is both bold and italicized are words that both the reader and Rodimus understand.
NSFW UNDER THE CUT!
Of all the ideas you'd had over the course of your life, this had to be one of the worst.
Granted, it wasn't as bad as trying to follow the blinking light into the woods after your car broke down, only to end up abducted by aliens. But it was pretty high up there.
But between said abduction and your ensuing rescue by the gigantic alien robots and the spaceship they called home, you hadn't exactly had a lot of time to yourself. And after days melted into weeks and you eventually began to lose track of how long it had been since you had been plucked from Earth, you were starting to get a little… wound up.
Most days were spent in between the massive metal fingers of a robot that you were pretty sure was named Rodimus as he shuttled you from room to room and presented you to his fellow crew members like a first-grader showing off their new pet hamster. But despite the glaring communication barrier and the ever-present threat of being squashed under foot, Rodimus was very careful with you. He made sure you were safe and comfortable, never picked you up without letting you know ahead of time, and did his best to communicate simple thoughts and ideas with you through hilarious, size-difference charades. It could be a little awkward sometimes, but he was nice! It was nice.
And then, about a week ago, Rodimus accidentally made you cum so hard you almost blacked out. And you couldn't stop thinking about it.
But honestly, how were you supposed to stop thinking about it? Sure, it was an accident, (or you were pretty sure it was, at least. Giant robot charades isn't always a perfect system) but it was an accident that refused to leave your mind. When Rodimus would lay on his big slab of metal to sleep, or recharge his batteries, or whatever it was that giant robots did at bedtime, you'd be lying awake in the little habitat he'd built for you out of his desk craving the sensation of sitting on the world's best and most attentive washing machine and letting the vibrations spark stars behind your eyelids.
So maybe it was a bit stupid, and horny, and frankly desperate to search out that feeling again from a guy four times your size who could crush you in his hand like a grape if he ever wanted to. But God damn if it wouldn't be worth it.
So that's how you found yourself in the position you are now. Naked, sprawled back against the surface of the desk with one of Rodimus's massive hands cradling your upper body, and a giant finger from the other tracing up the inner curve of your thigh. He seemed almost enchanted by the way your goosebumps rippled to the surface beneath his touch, letting out a pleased, mechanical warble.
He seemed to adore your softness compared to the rigid metal of his own skin, as Rodimus liked to squish you quite a bit. Never enough to hurt, just enough to feel the warm press of your skin between the joints of his fingers and hands, or to drag a curious fingertip down your cheek. But there was a particular meekness with the way he touched you right now, like he was only just realizing how easy it would be for him to hurt you. It was painfully sweet, and if you weren't absolutely aching for something more right now you may have been content to let him continue his gentle fondling.
"C'mon, big guy." You murmured instead, resting your hand around his wrist and pulling him up closer to the apex of your thighs. He let out a soft, surprised revving sound at your boldness, glancing at your face a few times before finally pressing the top of his finger up between your thighs, lying flush against your folds. If you had to compare the sensation, you'd say the feeling of leaning a little too far forward on a motorcycle seat was similar. It was warm, rumbling, pressing up against all the right places, but not quite enough to get you anywhere you really wanted. Still, you couldn't stifle your shaky moan, and that seemed to really get him going.
"Yes?..." He all but purred, one of the few words you had actually managed to learn between the two of you. The pointed chevron of his brow seemed to quirk up a bit on one side as he glanced down at his thick finger between your legs before back up to your gaze.
"Yes. It's good, I just… want more." You knew he couldn't understand your words, but the slow roll of your hips and the slick coating of your arousal over his knuckle seemed to get the message across just fine. He rocked his finger up against you, wet with your drooling heat as the jut of the joint slid up and over your clit again, and again, and again. Still slow, yes, but almost painfully good. Your hips jerked towards the sensation and he cooed, engine rumbling louder to course vibrations up through your aching cunt.
He murmured your name, or the best that he could approximate in his echoey, mechanical trill. From the hand cradling your upper body his massive thumb slid forward, dragging along the curve of your jaw and down to the jut of your collarbone with a delicate curiosity. Panting, you let yourself melt into his touch, rolling your hips against his other hand and shuddering at every other press that seemed to hit just the right spot. Fuck, this was good. Better than good, you felt like your brain was going to melt out of your ears, molten heat pooling low in your stomach as a pleasant buzz of arousal seemed to crawl through your muscles and out to the tips of your fingers and toes. It was probably way too early to be cumming, but you'd been pent-up for far too long already and the relentless vibrations only pushed you higher and higher, a rubber band threatening to snap as you gasped and shuddered and tossed your head back against Rodimus's enormous metal palm.
It was all you could do to keep your feet from kicking out as your orgasm washed over you, the aching clench of your cunt around nothing making you whine as his fingers slowed to a lazy, comfortable stroking. You blinked blearily up at him, a look of incredibly sly pride on his face as you went limp and content in his palm.
"Fuck, Rodimus." You groaned. It startled you, the sheer volume of his engine's snarl in response to your simple, fucked-out sigh of his name. But more surprising was the sudden press of two blunt fingers against your messy hole, slippery with your own arousal as they tried to work their way into you. "W-Wait! Rodimus, fuck, it's not gonna fi-MMGH!?"
With a wet pop, the tips of his two massive fingers slipped into your still-twitching cunt, stretching you wider than you'd ever been before. Even one of his fingers was more than big enough for you, but he somehow fit two? Your entire body trembled as you flopped back, slave to the impossible stretch and press of unrelenting metal against your most sensitive spots. Whimpers and groans were forced from your body with each minute flex and press of his fingers deeper, deeper, scraping spots you could never reach with your own two hands and stuffing you so full you felt like you couldn't breathe in properly. The heat that had only just receded was building again, impossibly quick, a tingling jolt underneath your skin that made the muscles of your legs twitch and kick outside of your own control as your mind struggled between spearing yourself further on this impossible stretch or wriggling helplessly away.
He was talking again, an incomprehensible clutter of mechanized boops and whirrs that you only barely managed to process in your pleasure-drunk mind. Then, with a sudden rush of motion and swoop of your stomach with the G-force, you were cradled off of the table with his free hand and held up to his face. There was a glow to his cheeks, a bead of liquid trailing down the side of his helmet as he gazed down at you. Robots could blush? And sweat? Apparently this one could, a gush of warm heat rolling over your body as he huffed, mouth hanging slightly open. Behind his giant teeth you could see a peek of a silver-grey tongue, a rippling smooth expanse of rubber and metal-mesh that crept towards you until Rodimus dragged it oh-so-carefully up the length of your cunt.
"FUCK!" You wailed, hands scrabbling for purchase against the joints and bends of Rodimus's hand as he swept his massive tongue between your folds. He let out a low, growling groan at the taste, burying his face between your thighs as he stroked and massaged your pulsing clit with the tip of his tongue. His fingers kept working, curling up towards your stomach on each thrust as you sobbed, abandoning your grip on his hand to clutch to the yellow chevron on his brow like your life depended on it. Your head was swimming, buzzing so intensely with heat that you could barely form a thought beyond the deep, impending well of your next orgasm. It pulsed from so deeply within you, a relentless wall of pleasure rushing towards you faster than you could prepare yourself for. All you could do was cling desperately to Rodimus's brow and hold on for the ride, sobbing and gasping and shivering as it crept ever higher, warmth blossoming out from your cunt and crawling across your shaky frame as pleasure exploded behind your eyelids. You wailed his name again, barely comprehensible, as each press of his fingers forced a gush of slick from your quivering hole and spattered into his giant palm. As quickly as it came his tongue swept it gently away, fingers slowing and letting out a low, melodic hum as your wails and moans trailed off into soft, sniffly whimpers. Finally, finally, after what felt like an eternity but couldn't have been more than a minute at most, he began to lower you carefully back down onto the desk, thumb rubbing a tear from your cheek as he pulled his fingers from your puffy, overworked cunt.
He cooed your name again, cradling your body in both palms. "Good?" He murmured, warmth from his metal palms seeping directly into your sweaty skin and aching muscles. You heaved another shaky breath, unable to form words so you instead shot the giant mech a wavering thumbs-up. In any other scenario that may have been a cripplingly embarrassing response to what was possibly the best orgasm of your life, but it pulled a beaming smile to Rodimus's face regardless.
In a few minutes the tacky feel of slick and sweat and robot saliva drying on your skin would begin to border on intolerable, and you knew you'd eventually have to rise to fawn-like legs and stumble to clean yourself up. But for now you were more than happy to lay sprawled in your giant companion's grasp.
Hell, maybe he'd even help you take a bath, too. After all, it's not like you had anything left to hide.
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lyxandria · 20 hours
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Happiness is a Warm Gun - Boothill x f!Reader
word count: 1526 cw: nsfw- mdni; smut; sex with a cyborg; piv; multiple orgasms; gun play; restraints (tied to bed); punishment; missionary; overstimulation; size kink; begging; breeding kink; no protection used; talk of pregnancy; praise kink (reader referred to as "good girl"); female reader.
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“Spread your legs a bit more for me.” His voice was sweet like honey as he coaxed your body into position. With your wrists tied to the bedposts, you were useless in helping him. 
A cold, metallic hand roughly pried your thighs apart. Weak from his ongoing punishment, your legs easily bent to his will, granting him easier access to his treasure. In his hand was his gun, replacing the dildo he used earlier.
“I knew you could do it,” he praised, a devilish grin on his face as he watched you flinch from the cold metal of the gun as he teased your entrance with just the tip.
You struggled against your restraints as he began to push the barrel of the gun inside you. “Don't worry, darling,” he reassured, his robotic hand cupping your cheek. “It's not loaded,” a sadistic smile spread on his lips as he gazed at your pussy, slowly swallowing the entire barrel of the gun. 
“I think,” he added, withdrawing the gun slowly, then slamming it back inside you. Plump lips parted, allowing soft, little moans to escape your throat each time he shoved the gun inside you. A thrill ran down your spine, your body squirming with adrenaline, the dangers of being fucked by Boothill a turn-on by now. Sex with him was never vanilla – but how vanilla could you really get when you were fucking a machine. 
You glanced down, now two sets of eyes focused on how well your pussy was taking the gun's barrel. You watched, mesmerized, as Boothill slowly dragged the gun from your folds, its metallic barrel glistening with your juices, and then shoved it back inside you as hard as he could. Incoherent moans slipped from your lips as he began to ram the gun inside your already abused hole, the lewd, squelching sounds of sex filling the air. 
The pleasure inside your core began to build and radiate. From a tiny bud, it had grown and was ready to blossom and spread itself throughout your body. 
You were so close, almost there. And then –
it was ripped away, as if he knew how close you were. He stopped completely, leaving the gun buried inside your pussy. Your walls clenched, needy, squeezing the metal rod as you warmed the gun within your tight walls as if it was Boothill's cock.  
“Please,” you begged when it became too much, and your body needed its release. Tears rolled down your cheeks that were promptly wiped away by metallic fingertips. “No more,” you begged, your voice a sad pathetic whimper, almost unfamiliar to your ears.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you look now? Tears running down your cheeks, your hair a mess, your plush lips love bruised. You're a beautiful, pathetic mess. And I want to prolong this. Enjoy this fully. This is your punishment, but it's also my reward.” He dragged the gun out until just the tip remained inside. “Maybe you'll remember this next time you disobey me.” He rammed the gun roughly, a loud cry ripped from your throat as he buried it deep inside your cunt.
“There won't be a next time, will there?” Boothill asked, his tone stern as he placed his large, robotic hand as gently as he could on your torso, right where the outline of the gun created a bulge in your belly. Your scream was trapped in your throat, wanting to be heard, when he pushed down on your torso, the pressure pleasurably painful on your core. “Look how deep I am,” he marveled, forgetting momentarily the question he asked of you, proud of how well you took his gun. “I bet you wish this was me now, filling you. Breeding you with my seed” He watched your reaction; when he noticed your breathing got heavier and your hips bucked up to meet his hand holding the gun deep inside, he increased his pace, sending your body closer the edge knowing exact what was running through your head. With your climax near, he slid the toy in and out of your soaked slit, alternating between slow and fast, the squelching sounds loud in the otherwise quiet room.
“I'm not done teaching you your lesson,” he scolded, a sharp return to reality as he shoved the toy back inside you so rough the air in your lungs was forcibly pushed out in a loud gasp.
“When I ask you a question, you answer it, got it? Or did you already forget what led to your punishment already?” He continued to fuck you relentlessly with the gun, your pussy sore from his merciless movements.
Your body was weak, searching for a release that may never come, unable to speak even a single sound.
He continued to fuck your harder and harder, your lack of an answer spurring him on to go harder and faster. Pleasure was morphing into pain until the two were indistinguishable as he pinched your clit, an evil grin spread on his lips, enjoying watching your writhe and squirm, your body helpless and completely under his control. 
“I asked you a question,” he reminded, his thrusts now erratic. “It won't happen again. Right?”
He pinched your nipples hard, so hard you yelped in pain, your fingers tugging uselessly against your restraints . Your sounds blended together into one long string of incoherent moans as your breasts bounced vigorously with each hard thrust.
“We will be here ‘till you learn your lesson.” He slowed his pace, teasing you, edging you. Denying you your needy release. Knowing he could keep this up all night, while you couldn’t certainly put you at a disadvantage.
“You're a cruel man,” you managed to spit out as he dragged the tip of the gun along your slit.
“Oh, so you can speak,” he laughed sardonically as he pushed the gun back inside, your body ready to give out from the never ending assault. 
When it became too much, you begged him to stop. You pleaded. You cried. Anything to just make this torment end.
“I know you can come for me one more time. Just one more. Please?”
You felt so dirty naughty as you laid there, wrists tied to the bed, a gun shoved deep inside your pussy, shamefully accepting the brunt of your punishment.
You gave him what he wanted in exchange for what you wanted.
“No, I won't disobey you. Ever again.” He leaned down, your heads so close your foreheads to touch. And he kissed you as if he was sealing your promise, stealing you every breath, as he pushed the gun inside you, fucking you just right to send you finally over edge.
“That's my good girl,” he praised as you creamed all over the gun, having lost count how many times he brought you to climax that day.
He removed the gun by yanking its grip; your juices coating the already shiny metal, dripping down the barrel of the gun.
You felt yourself drifting, blissfully into the darkness, your body filled with an immense pleasure that brought you greater happiness.
A cold hand slapped your cheek, so hard your skin stung. Too cockdrunk to react, you simply opened your eyes, gazing into his, your burning desire reflected in his.
“Not yet,” he demanded. “Your punishment is not over yet.” His hips rocked against yours, thrusting his cock – that was larger than any toy that had been in your cunt today – into your stretched pussy in one hard thrust, rewarding him with a symphony of moans and sighs for his brutality. 
“Still so tight,” he grunted as he bottomed out. He gazed down to where your bodies were joined; there was something so deeply erotic that it was rapturous to see your bodies become one.
He wasted no time, not waiting for you to adjust to his large size before pounding your pussy.
“...so tight, ahhhh…. you feel so good. I think you have a few more left in you,” he chanted, his balls smacking your ass with each thrust, disregarding his earlier promise to you. “I know you do.”
His thrusts were brutal, bullying your sore pussy until the pleasure was laced with pain.
You screamed out his name, over and over, his name the only word on your lips, spurring him on to only fuck you harder. “Ya like that, don't ya. Such a naughty girl.” His words were like poison as he mercilessly slammed into you, rearranging your insides. 
Unable to speak, your walls clamped onto the metal cock drilling into you like you were a machine. His cyborg body, more metal than human now, showed no signs of relenting.
Ready to succumb to the painful pleasure inflicted upon your body, your eyes began to drift closed, searching for the darkness, needing a reprieve, even a temporary one. 
A cold hand stroked your cheek gently, its metallic fingers wrapping around your neck, thumb applying just enough pressure to your pulse point to submerge you into unconsciousness. 
“That’s it, princess. Rest now,” he said as you came on his cock, “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”
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yellowjestertfs · 1 month
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The Billionaires secret
“Hi there. Find what what you were looking for?” I ask in my customary upbeat yet soul-dead customer service voice.
“I think so. Going to give this one a try.” She says handing me a copy of a book called The Billionaire’s Secret from the romance section. I can see why she picked it, on the cover a man in a suit lay on a bed with the buttons of his dress shirt undone showing off his impressive six-pack and strong hairless chest. Brownish red eyes smolder seductively outwards from a masculine face. High cheekbones, soft lips, and a wide square jaw adorned with black stubble that connects to a short-styled head of black hair.
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“I’m Bridget by the way,” she says, obviously a bit embarrassed to see me eying up the cover. “Oh, and this is Dan.” She says gesturing at the man standing a few paces away, engrossed by some mobile game on his phone. 
“Nice to meet you, Bridget.” I scan the book. “That will be $17,” I say. 
She glances over at Dan, he doesn't seem to notice so she retrieves her credit card from her purse and taps it against the machine. “I don’t know why I expected him to offer.” She tells me in a conspiratorial whisper “He’s broke. I mean not that it matters to me, but it would just be nice to date a wealthy man or one who at least pays attention to me.” 
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Customers often confided in me. I wish I could say it is because of my open honest face or charismatic demeanor but it probably had more to do with a book I once ate about a bartender people told all their secrets to.
I look around. There are a few consumers browsing the book shelves and my manager is sitting at his desk in the back, no one close enough to notice. Bridget seems sweet, too sweet to be with a man like Dan. Poor girl just wants to escape with some fiction, so why not indulge her a little.
“Did you get a chance to check out our books on sale?” I ask Bridget diverting her attention away. She looks over at the shelf I pointed at giving me enough time to crack my knuckles, take a deep breath, and begin.
I place my hands over the cover of the book and it springs open, the pages start to turn themselves slow at first then speed up. Words start to flow from the book as the pages flip past. The letters lift from the page like a sticker being peeled, floating into the air to spin around me. They form a cyclone of black ink as the pages that flip by are left blank.
I feel the lines as they flow off the paper. The first line reads. “Kustav tower is 400 stories tall, rumor has it, it’s smaller than Dane Kustav’s dick.” 
I directed the words towards Bridget’s boyfriend. The ink splashes into him, absorbing into his gray hoodie but leaving no mark. None except for the fact that his basketball shorts start to thrash like a wild animal is trapped inside. Dan didn't look up from his phone even as his dick doubled and then tripled in size to match the one described in the book Billionaires Secrets.
I tried to be sparing with my abilities. Fiction is great so long as it stays fiction, otherwise you have evil robots or sparkly vampires running around. Still, every once in a while my heroic urges will take over and I am called to help someone with my power to bring words to life. Bridget is one of those people.
More words flowed off the page. “Dane Kustav is well dressed at all times. One would be hard-pressed to ever see Dane not in a suit. If one did see him without a suit, it would be in the bedroom where they would be very, very hard pressed indeed.”
The words spin around me once then drift over to Dan again on an invisible wind. This time his clothes were affected by the words. His grey hoodie which he wore with the hood up, melted off his body, the threads unwinding then rebinding themselves into a far higher quality dress shirt and black jacket complete with a blue tie. His shorts became black dress pants and his sneakers a pair of brown loafers. The outline of his much larger dick was clear in his new tighter pants. A few seconds passed with no changes then, slowly his tie undid itself and each of the buttons on his dress shirt opened so that he was sporting a matching look to that of the man on the cover of the book. Unlike the cover, however, Dan lacked the chiseled face or body to pull off the open shirt. His slight gut and saggy, hairy chest made the outfit look awkward rather than sexy.
Bridget looked up from the sale rack and glanced at her half-nude boyfriend with a chagrined glance. In her mind, he was always dressed in the finest clothes even if he still acted like a man-child.
“Dane Kustav towered over everyone be that in stature or in business.” 
I directed the words into him. Dan shot upwards, his modest 5’10” frame becoming a proud 6’3”, clothes growing to match. And though it wasn’t visible Dan’s head was also filled with business smarts he had lacked before. The game on his phone shifted from Fruit Ninja to Hey Day.
The pages continue to flip, their words leaving the page to float in the air under my command.
“Dane Kustav's muscles were like that of a brass statue, smooth, hard, and golden. Each curve could only have been sculpted by the hands of an artist for nature could never make anybody so perfect.”
I look over at Dan’s soft pudgy body. Not the words I would use to describe him, at least not yet. I float the sentence to him.
Instantly Dan’s belly flattens. One by one his abs pop into being as if pushed out from the inside like one of those pop-it toys. His man boobs visibly transmute from fat to muscle, perking up and then growing into a strong chest like that of the man on the cover of the book. Inside the sleeves of his dress shirt, his arms thicken into a pair of round vascular biceps while his legs below do the same. A tan, like oil spreading over water seeps across his body until his exposed muscles really looked like sculpture bronze turned to life. The few hairs that had looked sloppy before now lent his body a rugged masculinity.
Bridget looks at her boyfriend with a new lust. Her hands start to roam his abs and chest but Dan, still on his phone, only bats them away. 
Man-child indeed, a man in the body, a child in the face and the personality. I divert my attention back to the flipping pages looking for words I could use to fix that. The book is reaching the end, and the main character, assistant to the billionaire, has finally seduced her boss in a very steamy scene. High-class writing it is not, but at least it gives me plenty to work with.
“I ran my hand down his sharp square jaw.” 
I throw the words at him. The shape of his face shifts to be more masculine.
“He looked at me through squinted sexy amber eyes.”
His eyes shift from a pale blue to an amber so rich it almost looked red. He finally looks up from his phone and deep into Bridget's eyes. She returns the stare with a smile. 
“He brought my hand up to his cheek, I felt each bristle of his short sharp stubble.”
Dan moves Bridget's fingers up to his face which is now covered in a sexy two days' worth of growth.
“Then he kissed me with his soft sensual lips hard enough to make me weak in the knees.”
The words flow off the page and into him. His lips grow pillowy and pink and interlocked with Bridget’s. He wraps his muscular arms around her, keeping her steady as she collapses into him. 
“I warp my fingers into his jet-black quaffed hair as I prepare for him to take me.”
His hair gains a stylish cut and is dark as pitch, body hair and stubble do the same. Bridget greedily runs her hand through his new dark dew.
“He smelled like sports deodorant, woody cologne, and sex. I wanted nothing more than this man to take me.”
The bookstore fills with his scent. I am surprised to find myself turned on by the whole thing. I have reached the end of the book, the final page.
“It was then that I learned the billionaire's secret.”
This was the good stuff. I leech the words off the page and send them to Dan, or rather now, Dane.
“His secret wasn’t that he was hot, or rich, or could make any girl swoon.”
Their kiss intensifies. Dane started to undo Bridget's blouse.
“No, the billionaire's secret was.”
Suddenly Dane pulls away.
“The billionaire was gay.”
“Sorry Bridget,” Dane says taking a few steps back and looking at her with sudden realization. “I don’t think I can do this.” 
His eyes wander over to lock onto mine, rich amber orbs seeming to really take me in. He winks. “You thought, I think that could work. What are you doing after this?” He asks smoothly “Want to go get coffee in Paris on my jet? My treat.”
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oozedninjas · 1 month
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How do you think the 07 boys would react if the reader died? Like in an accident or killed by shredder or sm? just food for thoughts
They say there are five stages of grief...
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Leonardo will blame himself for it no matter how you die. Did you get sick? He's a ninja. He should have noticed the symptoms as soon as they appeared! Did the Shredder kill you? God, that's his worst nightmare. Because it not only means he failed as a partner, but he also failed as the leader of the team you belonged to. He couldn't protect you, and he can never forgive himself for that.
Denial
There must be some way to rebound it. His mind flashes from here to there, and Leo considers possibilities that in a normal situation would seem delusional. Could Donatello build a time machine? There must be some way to reverse it. There must be. It can't be that you're just... gone.
2. Anger
It's a sheer tough situation because even though he would want to fight recklessly, with no regard for himself, Leo has to be strong for others and continue playing his role as leader and older brother. So he bottles up his feelings; buries them deep until they slowly rot inside him.
When he faces the Shredder again, he notices that there is something different, and for the first time in decades, Shredder fears he may not win. I think Leo would also become rougher with low-ranked criminals, hitting harder than necessary. The terrifying part? It's always perfectly calculated.
Also, his brothers resent his anger during training because he becomes tougher and more demanding. However, it's only because Leo can't afford to lose anyone else. He wouldn't be able to bear it.
3. Bargaining
He should at least be able to compensate your family. Friends. Anyone who loved you as much as he did. Thinking about doing things for people who were close to you brings him a kind of comfort that appeases his anger. It's a way of trying to regain a sense of control over the situation and find a way to cope with his pain.
4. Depression
He'll never again feel the tender caress of your fingertips over his shell, the warmth of your lips pressed against his own, or the sweet melody of your laughter echoing through the lair. The realization grips his heart with an ironclad vice, suffusing his spirit. It's a devastating blow that rends his very soul asunder.
5. Acceptance
But you wouldn't want him to be sad forever. No, in fact, Leo is sure you'd be insisting that he needs to move on. It was okay to feel, to be upset and cry along the way, but it was time to get up. Master Splinter plays a very important role in how Leo slowly recovers himself. One step at a time.
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Donatello: It depends on how you die, but I believe what could drive him insane is if he loses you slowly due to an illness. That would be his personal hell because no matter how hard he tries to change things, researching new methods, creating medications, even biotechnology... nothing seems to yield results. Isn't he supposed to be a genius? What's the point of intellect if it can't use it to save you?!
Denial
"With this cryogenic capsule, I can keep her body intact a little longer," he tells your loved ones, who stare at him, paralyzed by the desperation in his eyes. "I can fix this. I can- I just need more time." But a person is not a machine, and your loved ones did not allow him to experiment.
A machine! That's it! Donatello made a copy of your memory and some parts of your consciousness before your departure; perhaps he could put that into a robot and somehow... maybe with enough effort and the right wires...
2. Anger
It worked, and yet it failed miserably. This thing in front of him looked like you, sounded like you, shared some memories, and yet, it felt utterly empty. How could he insult your memory out of his own desperation?
Donatello smashed his Bo staff into the control center, piercing it completely. He trembled a little as he continued to hold it, buried in the circuits. That night there was a blackout in the lair, and all that could be heard from the lab was the grinding of teeth.
3. Bargaining
It happened to you, but perhaps with all the research and testing, Donatello could prevent someone else from going through the same thing. So, he decided to sell his investigation, using a pseudonym and a couple of computer skills made it no problem to do it all from the lair. For him, it's like gradually adapting to the reality of his loss through these small actions.
4. Depression
To think that a robot could replace you. What the hell was he thinking? Your scent, the softness of your skin, the beautiful way you looked at him when discussing a new discovery, that could never be replicated. The lab, like his heart, felt terribly empty. It was a feeling as suffocating as it was overwhelming: knowing that you would never be there again, that he couldn't see or hear you anymore. Suddenly, he can't breathe.
Burying himself in his work keeps his mind occupied. He doesn't need sleep; he needs to progress with the research. Donatello escapes from every little space that could allow you to somehow appear in his mind.
5. Acceptance
April helped a lot in this part, as she was the one who started bringing you into the conversation with positive things, and Don has small spaces to feel shared nostalgia. April feels the same loss; she understands, and that is extremely comforting.
Over time, the feeling of emptiness left by your memory transitions to a bittersweet sensation, and gradually he allows himself to move forward, remembering you with a smile, with a fondness that embraces him from the bottom of his heart. Donatello learned that every minute counts, and for that reason, he now makes space to spend more time with the people he loves, and who love him in return.
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thanksbutno98 · 11 months
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Should Have Proposed Sooner
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John Price x fem!reader
Warning: NSFW, smut, p in v, oral, slight dom! Price, established relationship, not edited.
Summary: Having just gotten engaged you and your fiancé John Price can’t keep your hands off each other.
——————
You stood in front of your full length mirror admiring the way your engagement ring looked with every outfit you put on since the day you had been given it. Tonight you were dressed in John’s much to large tshirt. The shoulder were stretched from your lovers broad frame and it dusted the tops of your thighs, hiding the pink silk pair of underwear. It smelled of cigar smoke, faded laundry detergent and sandalwood. It was all so familiar but different. It wasn’t that normal cheap cigar scent you were use to.
“Did you get new cigars?” You asked nose buried in the fabric as you turned your head slightly to look at John.
He was on the treadmill sweat collecting at his brow, his grey T-shirt dark from sweat in the center of his chest and back. His black gym shorts rustled as his legs worked in a quick pace. A warm smile spread across his face as he panted from exertion bringing his attention to you. It made you smile to see his muttonchops in full bloom.
“Yeah, your dad gave them to me. Letters in the box” John huffed his heavy feet thumping against the machine. His finger haphazardly pointing in the direction of the cigar box on the dresser. You didn’t bother asking any more question allowing him to finish up his work out. Opening the small mahogany box your sense we’re oven taken by the Smokey sweet scent of unburnt tobacco. Oh, these were expensive. The beige card was sitting on top of the cigars with your dads messy handwriting, it was small almost like a index card folded in half. Opening it you couldn’t help but snort at your dads message inside.
“Good luck, she’s a handful.”
Him and John got along well due to their dry humor and love of teasing you. That being said your father adored you and from the conversation you and John had the day after the proposal your dad had thoroughly threatened John when he asked permission. Putting the card back neatly you shut the box and lit a candle to get the smell out of your room.
Bringing your attention back to your reflection. You smiled softly as you pulled the much too large tshirt over your head discarding it into the laundry, leaving yourself almost completely naked. Save the silk pair of panties you had on, pink with a small white bow decorating the front. You knew John loved these ones telling you how innocent they made you look.
“If you wanted my attention you could have just asked, love.” John’s voice was rough as a robotic beep sounded. The whirling of the treadmill coming to a halt. “Although, this is a fool proof plan to get it.” You could hear his foot steps approaching as you admired your form, loving the idea of wearing nothing but your ring. Little did you know your soon to be husband was thinking the same thing.
“All I have to do is bend over and I’ve got your full attention.” You quipped a small yelp escaping your lips as a harsh slap was landed on your ass. The large calloused hand massaging the stinging flesh immediately after.
“Hm, then bend over?” John asked now situated behind you. “God you’re gorgeous.” He groaned.
One hand was on your hip while the other wandered from the top of your panty line up to your left breast, cupping it gently. Fingers moving, tweaking your nipple lightly. John loved hearing the deep exhale you let out. His head was bowed as he planted ghostly kisses along your neck, causing goose bumps to prickle your skin. His hips lightly rutting into the curve of your ass as he let out a shaky breath. You weren’t sure if it was from just having finished his run or had you gotten him the riled up so quickly.
“As good as this feels, you smell horrible John.” You giggled his post workout aroma killing the mood for you. It caused a strangled laugh to vibrate against the sensitive skin of your neck as he looked up into the mirror through lidded eyes. His blue eyes were dark with lustful intentions as they bore into yours. Scanning your features for any hesitation which were no where to be found.
“Join me for a shower?” You couldn’t help the wicked grin that took over your face. Turning you wrapped your arms around your lovers neck and jumped into his arms wrapping your legs around his v-shaped waist. Pressing your bare chest into his sweaty gym shirt, while he kicked off his running shoes. Capturing his lips in a hungry kiss you could feel his toned abdomen pressing against your core, you shamelessly ground your hips forward letting out a breathy giggle. Without missing a beat John was making his way to the bathroom avoiding the packing boxes strewn around.
“Should have proposed a lot sooner, don’t think you’ve ever been this horny.” John joked a chuckle rumbling from his chest. You didn’t not match his sentiment on this one.
“Yeah you should’ve, proposed a lot sooner.” You repeated lacking the joking tone John just had. You quirked an eyebrow at your lovers laugh lacking humor. John set you down on the bathroom counter. Taking of his shirt he leaned in placing his hands on either side of your thighs his face mere inches from you. He had that stern look, the one where you tended to avoid him for an hour until he was in a better mood. It’s how you imagined him too look at his subordinates during briefings or even on the battle field.
“Have you forgotten I don’t tolerate brattiness.” He warned his cornflower eyes slightly narrowed as if asking you not to go down this path.
“I wouldn’t be bratty if this ring found its way on my finger a lot sooner.” You leaned back resting your palm behind you, your left arm out stretched and hand flat as you admired the gorgeous diamond. Taking notice to how your fiancés eyes raked down your almost naked body. Paying particular attention to your breasts.
“Always the impatient one.” With a tug to your hips John pulled you to the edge of the counter falling to his knees.
“What are you do-“
“Consider this my final apology for taking so long to propose. After this I don’t want to hear a fucking word. Now lift your hips.”John growled nipping the supple flesh of your thigh his hand falling cruelly to the outside of it, a slap echoing in the small room.
You bit your bottom lip holding back the yelp from the sudden erotic sting. Listening dutifully you planted your palms on the edge of the fake marble and lifted your hips allowing your lover to slide the silk fabric off tossing it away towards the laundry basket. A red flush lit up your cheeks as you sat bare in front of John’s watering mouth. You could tell he wasn’t playing around with your bratty comments tonight so you willed yourself to behave. With his head between your thighs you were more than willing to give in to him.
“Spread.” John commanded.
“Yes, Captain.” Your words had him smirking as you obeyed, pushing your knees farther apart. His arms hooked under your legs placing your knees over his shoulder as he got to work.
Licking a firm stripe up your center. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip painfully as you held back the moans daring to escape your pretty lips. Head falling back, you leaned your weight back on your forearms giving your lover better access to your aching core. His new choice in facial hair had your head spinning. Adding to the overall pleasure he was giving you. The hairs tickling your inner thighs, rubbing them raw at times. John’s lips created a firm seal over your clit sucking with the perfect amount of pressure he knew made you legs weak.
He had been studying your body over the years and he knew how to get specific reaction from you. As of late you had been denying being vocal due to his cockiness. The first moan left your lips unintentionally echoing in the bathroom as John thumb rubbed lightly at your entrance his lips sucking firmly. You tried your best to keep any noises to a minimum your stubbornness proving strong as you thought back to John’s snarky comment that only he could make you feel this good. He was right but you hated admitting that since he was right most of the time and his ego was big enough.
That’s when he slipped two thick fingers into your weeping cunt. Curling them so he could press into that spongy spot that made you go cross eyed. The stretch burned oh so deliciously. His fingers staying sheathed inside you massaging your g-spot firmly. His lips detached from your clit with a pop. For a moment you thanked your lucky stars letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. It was becoming impossible to keep yourself quiet. That when John’s rough tongue licked your clit aggressively making you squeal in surprise and pleasure. His fingers now pistoning in and out of your cunt. Lewd squelching filling the room followed by the sound of John spitting on your clit.
“J-ohn!” His name tore from your throat as his tongue relentlessly flicked over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Sitting up slightly you peered down to see your lovers free hand wrapped firmly around his cock pumping it lazily as he devoured you. The sight had you clenching down the coil in your stomach begging to tighten.
“Fuck me” you demanded pulling at his brown locks. Making eye contact with John’s blue eyes that almost looked black from how blown his pupils were you added a quite ‘please’. He shuffled to his feet in an instant shedding his gym shorts and boxers. His white socks stayed on a habit you found endearing.
“Thought I smelled.” He teased letting out a dark chuckle as you grabbed at his hips pulling him forward, ignoring his words. His hands roaming your body. Desperate to feel his cock stretch you out you looked up through your eyelashes putting on your sweetest expression.
“Please?” Biting you lips you pushed forward kissing the expanse of John’s chest. Admiring the brown hair that dusted the toned pectoral muscles.
“So needy. You going to stop being stubborn and let me hear those pretty moans.” John purred pumping his thick length a few times before positioning himself in line with your entrance. You planted your hands on his bulging biceps as you prepared to get railed. Both of your heads swimming with lust.
“I’m not stubborn.” You lied breathlessly. He had the upper hand and you both knew it. But it wouldn’t be you if you didn’t go down without a fight. John smiled devilishly an air of mischief about him. You swallowed thickly feeling slightly intimidated at the change in his demeanor. He leaned in slowly and kissed you tenderly.
“You’re a horrible liar. And you know how I feel about lying.” He spoke against your mouth guiding you off the counter. The tiled floor was cold against your bare feet as you were guided down to your knees.
“Now it’s your turn to apologize for lying.” You whined looking up at your fiancés smug expression. He knew how bad you wanted to have your brains fucked out but seeing you needy on your knees in front of him was to good to pass up. Without hesitation you wrapped your lips around his thick length and took all of him down your throat in one motion. Sputtering and chocking you ignored the discomfort as you attempted to suck him into submission. He tasted of sweat as his musk filled your senses. As well as he knew your body you knew his the same.
“Fu-fuck, love.” John groaned hunching forward his palms landing on the counter in front of him. Unintentionally pinning you between the cabinet and his body. The movement caused him to thrust into you tentative mouth, chocking you slightly. You pulled on his hips allowing him to thrust shallowly into your throat. His large fingers found your jaw stroking your cheek lovingly as he pushed his hips forward. You loved hearing the grunts leaving your lover. Swirling your tongue up his length you pulled off with a pop and began sucking his sensitive tip. It drove him wild when you did that. The way your tongue swirled around the head of his cock pulling his foreskin down slightly to have better access.
“Ah~” John moaned loudly reaching down, pulling you by your under arms so you were standing back up. You were spun around quickly your hips being pushed into the counter. A large hand pushing your shoulders forward so you were bent over the counter breasts pressed into the cold surface. Before you knew it John slammed his cock into your pulsing warmth. A chorus, of moans fell from the pair of you as he set a relentless pace. The stretch barley burned having been dripping wet and aching to be filled.
“Just like that!” You wailed reaching your arms back trying to find anything to grasp onto. John’s hands left your hips and grabbed your arms by the elbows. Hoisting your chest off the counter the new angle having him ram into your g-spot. Helpless moans dripped off your tongue, joining the echoes of skin slapping and the wet squelch of your pussy. You could see your reflection in the mirror but more importantly you could see John’s pussy drunk face. Jaw slack and eyebrows knit together as he watched your ass jiggle with each thrust. His thick length being swallowed by your tight cunt. The position helped him get the leverage he needed to pound into you. It made your shoulders ache in an oh so perfect way. You loved when John got worked up enough to be rough and man handled you.
“Fu-ck! What do you need love. I’m close.” John moaned out his head falling forward, eyes screwing shut in concentration as he held back his impending orgasm.
“R-rub my-“ you fell forward slightly before you could moan out the rest of your sentence. John moved letting go of your right elbow. Your palm slapped against the counter as you caught yourself. Pushing yourself up, back arched you let out a desperate moan as John’s rough fingers found the bundle of nerves and rubbed vigorously.
“Missed hearing those pretty sounds, love.” John praised his left arm wrapping around your shoulder to keep you tight against his chest, face buried in the crook of your neck. He looked up seeing the fucked out expression on your face through the mirror only egging him to fuck into you harder. The slapping of skin and John’s rough fingers were making you spiral. You were so close but you just need that last push.
“I love you.” John whispered into your ear his tender words opposing your lewd actions. His words caused something in your belly to tighten and snap. Pulsing around John’s thick length you let out a string of profanities along with your fiancés name as your orgasm swept through your body. Your knees went weak causing the hand working your clit to fly to your hip steadying you. John slammed into you a few more times stilling as he flooded your cunt. His own orgasm ripping though him. The most delicious moan leaving his lips making you pulse around him again. He whimpered as you tightened around his sensitive length. You two stood there for a moment catching your breath, drinking in the afterglow. A tiredness sweat through you as you began to realize your lower back was aching slightly.
“You’re fuckin’ perfect.” John panted out kissing your shoulder his grip finally beginning to loosen.
“Wow, you really did blow my back out.” You giggled rubbing the sore area. John let out a laugh that was a little higher pitched. His eyes crinkling as he tried to get himself to stop the boyish giggles.
“Such a smart ass.” You smiled at his words triumphantly. Turning you watched as John turned the shower on and finally took off his socks.
“I love you.” Your voice was soft.
“You better.” John quipped planting a loving kiss to your swollen lips. “I’ll give you a nice massage to help your back.” He added a shit eating grin plastered across his bearded face.
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nogenderbee · 20 days
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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕀𝕟𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕠𝕣 ₊˚ˑ༄
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Hope requests aren't closed. Could I request Gepard, Argenti, Dan Heng, and Jing Yuan with a s/o who is an excellent inventor? Toys, machines, they can make anything.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ They weren't when you requested so you're good! Also, I don't write for Argenti so hope you don't mind me changing him for Serval! She just suits here so well and I need more of the girlies so you can say I kinda took the opportunity there~ Anyway, hope it's still up to your liking!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff
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✧ Dan Heng probably knows both a lot and a little about subject of inventing
✧ he read about it and even saw few constructions due to adventuring from planet to planet, but he also never really did it himself
✧ you'll have to introduce him to all the shortcuts while inventing something because he knows just the long and boring way, like instructions said, he'll do the exact steps
✧ he doesn't really mind and find it actually quite interesting to help you around
✧ but if your workshop is loud... he may not be big fan... and if you're trabilazer like him and all the noise is coming from the next room? Yeah, he'd loose it...
"Y/N. How about we go grab some sweets and you finish your work later? I need a break..."
✧ don't get him wrong, he's happy you're working on your skills but he just doesn't like the noise and would much prefer go on a walk while you work
✧ but at least he helps you with cleaning and quieter parts of inventing!
✧ tho if you live on planet and he rarely visits you we it is... he may not mind the noise as much. He's simply more focused on spending some quality time with you than that
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@miya-akane @toyaswif3y - come get your quiet but scary trabilazer!
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✧ Gepard is honestly happy for your achievements and you probably met each other through Serval
✧ but... let no one ask him who's better inventor... he's not gonna be able to choose between you and his sister so he'll end up with basic answer, simply saying you're both great which he's not lying about
✧ but if we can avoid that, he knows quite a bit about it so he'll often drop by and see how you're doing
✧ and if you need help, he wouldn't mind doing so we long as he's not busy
✧ if he won't know something... he can always ask you or Serval if you'll need some professional advice too!
✧ this boy is so busy and now he also has 2 inventors to help... he often leaves you or Serval mid day to go to another one, so he won't seem like he's playing favorites because he loves you both equally, just in different ways
"Hey love, I'll go see how Serval's doing, okey? I'll come back later so I can help you more since I know you're busy. I'll be back in 1 of 2 hours."
✧ but... Serval often kicks him out to help his partner, she's like tou cupid if you think about it...
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✧ Serval is too!! You guys either met through work and bonded OR became close and just later realized you're both inventors
✧ when you were far enough into relationship, she definitely wanted to combine your two workshops so instead of "competing against each other", you could work together
✧ and lemme tell you... if you do it, your business is going CRAZY since you're both one of the best inventors in Belebog
✧ if you ever struggle with idea, fixing or making something, she's the one you should go for!
✧ she knows you're a bit better than her and will often mention it, not because she had low self-esteem but because she's proud girlfriend and wants to compliment you
"Hehe~ C'mon, you're the best at it! You need to teach me your trick someday, alright? In exchange... I could take you on a date next week! I'll clear my schedule so we can spend entire day with each other."
✧ expect her to be a little flirty from time to time when you work, sneaking little notes between not important machines so you'll wonder why it's not working just to find love letter there, or send some flying little robot with hear or chocolates on it... many can happen when she's in the playful mood!
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✧ Jing Yuan most likely knows every citizen of Xianzhou Luofu, some worse some better... so he definitely knew you even before you got into relationship
✧ but your relationship either developed by him hiring you one day or him getting w little crush and visiting you often
✧ and when you're together, he'll often drop by to see how you're doing and he'll you around
✧ and when he can't come check up on you because of his work... he'll simply send someone to you! It can be either Cloud Knight on patrol or Yanqing passing by
✧ he loves seeing how much you can do with just the idea and materials. So he'll sometimes sit down next to you and watch you work
✧ his favorite thing is to see the project developed all the way from simple scratch to finished product
✧ he'll also remind you of breaks, taking you out for something sweet or to restaurant whenever you finish project you've been working for days
"It looks great, my dear. Now let's go eat something. My treat. Trust me, you deserve it for all the good work you did there."
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@miya-akane - come get your soft general~
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imagine post fire au! moon being your neighbor.
The mechanic living in 21A obviously smuggled the DCA home after the fire but no one's reported them because A) it's none of their business and B) Sun is actually a really sweet fella and the building looks spotless when it's their month to clean. That's all fine and dandy but for some reason the night mode of the bot seems to be very interested in whatever you're up to in the odd hours of the morning.
The first time you met the gremlin of the halls left much to be desired. Being shadowed on your 4AM return home would be horrifying if it were a human, but a red-eyed jester robot with a laugh like a hyena? No. Just no. Especially since he decided to crab walk after you when you started running. Who does that?!
The visit from the mechanic and Sun the next day didn't do much to comfort you, but at least the apology cookies were good. Turns out Sun's a great baker. That night you came home to a note tacked to your door with a star sticker as well.
"hello. sorry for scaring you. was trying to play. you dropped these. -moon"
The n's and h's are written backwards. Below the note are your headphones taped with a glittery blue washi tape, the cord neatly tied into a loose bow. You rip the note from your door. "Playing" wasn't the word you'd use to describe it.
Your second meeting, you run into him while doing your laundry one evening. You'd just loaded your clothes into the dryer when he comes skulking down the stairs. You don't acknowledge him, but keep a close eye in your peripheral in case he decides to "play" with you again.
He doesn't acknowledge you either at first, throwing the contents of his basket into the top-loader and climbing onto it to watch through the glass as the basin fills. You gather your basket, getting ready to head back upstairs when he speaks up.
"Sorry again."
You turn around against your better judgement, "What?"
"For scaring you. You dropped your headphones. You ran. I thought we were playing. Sorry," he rasps, still staring down into the washing machine.
For a moment the only sounds are the running cycles and the animatronic's nervous ticking.
"...Thanks for the apology. And for returning my headphones," you reply slowly. What else can you say?
The animatronic just hums in response, and you go back upstairs.
...
Maybe he eventually endears himself to you? He wants to be your friend So Bad. You're one of the only people up and around at night since you're a 3rd shifter, and he thinks you're so cool. I don't really know where it'd go from there?
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love-evetor · 5 months
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May i request romantic! Pest x gn!reader headcanons ples im hungr y
QUITE LATE here is ur food anon served on a paperplate . eat up i hope it isn't word slop
obligatory this is not beta read LMAO its 6 am but i saw the ask and i started Writing sorry if i messed up 202049823008 words and have the grammar of an infant /exag
unsurprisingly, he is.. a bit of a dick! generally cold and silent and will probably look dazed when you show them affection. he's very dense as well, subtle little things go RIGHT over his head.
he has his struggles with emotional intimacy as well, gift giving and acts of service end up being their primary love languages. he loves to give you gifts of little things he creates and has definitely made a little machine guy for you! it doesn't do much though, just flashes some little messages of care.
continuing on his machinery, they spend a LOT of time on those things. its one of the only things you'll get him to talk about for more than a few sentences - absolutely in-love with the way robotics work. that being said, they will 100% ramble to you. they're normally not that emotional, but it makes him really happy when someone listens to him about his robotics. he'll go out of his way to help you understand, even!
more physical stuff, their mandibles do get in the way sometimes. the ones on his mouth are a little rough but kept clean, so they aren't too bad when it comes to kisses. the head ones though can be a little uncomfortable, having to slot yourself in-between them and they've scratched against you a few times. they've never hurt you though, only tickle a little, caused for a few funny moments.
cuddling, hugs, all that stuff with them they're INSANELY open for. will he ever ask for it himself? no, but its almost like he can sense when you're about to ask with how fast he says yes. he might be a teensy bit touch starved, but you'll never get them to admit that lmao
you, 100%, WILL catch him staring. he is captivated in you, that much is obvious - over and over again staring at you with the most love struck eyes before jumping and quickly looking away every time you catch him. he'll play it off like it hasn't happened every time, don't even get him to TRY and admit it you will FAIL
more of a detail, but he chitters a lot when you both cuddle - more or less mumbling to him. yet, it makes little rumbles in his chest and its obvious when he's doing it. you aren't supposed to know what he's saying, its in his native language of course - but its all sweet nothings. he does it subconsciously, but its cute nonetheless.
to end on a rather soft note, he loves you more than you ever know no matter what. you infect his mind, his work, his hobbies and he hates it in a way - but all in all he doesn't want it gone. :}
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sin-sidejob · 1 year
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Inside Job + Valentine’s Day
Happy Valentines Day!! I tried to at least write a little something for the holiday since I’ve got a bit of a tradition going
Warnings: NSFW + MINORS DNI mentions of sex, vague and genderless, safe for all genders. Mentions of food and eating. Monsterfucking? Misuse of candy + absolutely gratuitous cum play and cum eating. I mean it. I wanna say machine fucking for Robotus due to that one line, “you’re about to fuck a machine!”, I love that line lmao — anyways, enjoy!
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JR Scheimpough:
- he’s absolutely taking you out to an overly expensive restaurant, there may or may not be chocolate involved that you’re allergic to. He tries to go above the expectations of above and beyond, black card on fire from the amount of times he’s swiped it.
- I can see that kind of conversation where he needs to be told he doesn’t need to do so much, y’know? Something of a sweeter, softer ending with you telling him that he doesn’t need to go all out, all you want is him (plus: “so you don’t want the jewelry?” “I never said that.”)
- then just Valentine’s Day fucking where you may or may not be decked out to the nines in heart jewelry or something lacy beneath whatever red or pink outfit you’ve got on, littered with hearts in your attempts to steal his. JR’s too oblivious to realize that it’s been yours all this time.
- you’ve got him beneath you in his obscenely large bed in those custom 3k thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, and he’s drained and blabbering and essentially orating his last will and testimony as you urge another after another orgasm out of him, poor little thing, empty after giving you everything to feel full. what a gift he is.
- the night ends sticky and sweaty, coated in that salty, glimmering sheen of a fresh fuck. His glasses are askew if not abandoned completely and he’s out of breath, staring at the ceiling and grinning like a fool as you curl around him, pulling up the blankets and sheets around you both and nestling up against him. JR needed the reminder of how it’s the little things that matter, not the grander gestures. He gets it when he feels your breathy little goodnight kiss against his shoulder right before you fall asleep. He gets it.
Alpha Beta Robotus:
- i can see AB’s attempts to do the cliche things he’s seen from sitcoms and realizes through personal error that it just doesn’t work — both for him being the one orchestrating things and then just shitty hijinks of things not working out
- like baking and he only realizes afterward that his hands aren’t calibrated enough for the delicate art of piping. Or when he tries to order you flowers and they don’t arrive or they’re the wrong ones, unfortunately the kind you’re allergic to. He spends too long picking out the stamens to make sure there’s no pollen that could make you ill.
- you think it’s sweet and you didn’t want or need much from him, and you’re just happy that he tried. He made an effort, and you reward him for it, showing him with your mouth wrapped around him how gestures truly speak louder than gifts, especially as you swallow him down between your thighs.
- I can see this being early in the relationship too but fuck he’s just overwhelmed and out of sorts, taking his hand and placing it where your jaw meets neck and guiding you to take him further, spouting sentences of praise in the holiday spirit littered in debauched terms to describe how he feels, how you make him feel, and how he plans to return the favor.
- he shuts up though, right about a minute or two in, after you roll his balls between your palm and gently tug and the robot man is flooding your mouth until it coats your tongue and trickles past your lips to drip down your chin and land atop your chest. He needs to learn how you’re supposed to take those valentines cliches tongue in cheek, but you supposed something between your will do for now.
Brett Hand:
- goes all out with a homemade meal then dancing but in the comfort of home, spinning you around barefoot in the grass of your backyard as the radio plays something sweet and soft
- you’re soft and warm in the moment, well fed and well loved, and you let him twirl you back into his arms underneath those fairy lights you both hung up last autumn. It’s tender and sweet and you taste it on his lips like the promise of next autumn, and the seasons to follow, threading your hand in his hair to bring him close.
- you take lead from him, no longer following, urging him back through kisses that turn wet and messy, getting him to sit atop the outside dining table as you stand between his legs and make a mess out of him. You smirk against plush, swollen lips as he whines once you palm him through those precious Simply Southern khakis with the heart embroidery, sweet man, so precious for you.
- he even moans sweet, Brett’s mouth gaping as you pump him in your fist, layering thick all those compliments you always seem to have stocked away. He cums soon, quickly, but you pay it no mind, licking your hand clean from where he’s painted it white and sticky. He carries you into the house and barely makes it to the kitchen before bending you over, knocking over the festive heart garland over the doorway as he goes, and he laughs loud at your shitty joke about how he’ll always be a heartbreaker.
Reagan Ridley:
- she’s fallen trap to your bargaining and lovely eyes once more, but this Valentine’s Day she’s in a theater watching a shitty but kinda’ good movie, popcorn rich with artificial butter, giant sodas, and sidled beside you in one of those luxe movie theaters with the larger seats.
- you press kisses to her shoulder and cheek between scenes of the movie, occupying yourself with thanking her for the outing and having fun, even though it wasn’t her idea. It’s better than being home, and hey, she still gets to wear sweats.
- her interest gets piqued though when you start rubbing at her thigh when a scene gets busy, your eyes trained on the screen as your hands busy themselves with toying with her, pulling that drawstring bow undone and sneaking your warm, smooth palm beneath to linger over the warm cotton, gently pushing to the side her panties to slide through the slick pooling at her cunt.
- Reagan’s legs widen and part in efforts to get more of your touch, her hands white-knuckling both armrests. You shush her whines and little halfhearted comments with pretty kisses, the shadows making you both seem like a cute couple, your jacket covering her lap and allowing you all the privacy in the world to go knuckle-deep and curl into her cunt, swallowing her moan with a sweet smirk. She can taste the candy on your tongue too, tart and sour and sweet in the way you make everything sweeter.
- it doesn’t take long and the action scenes from the movie and the laughing audience scattered about cover her moans and how she gushes around your hand, soaking her panties and the inner lining of her sweats. You kiss her through it and work her down until you can slide your fingers out and suck them clean, getting back to the movie and finally grabbing some popcorn, hands still sticky-sweet and glinting with that spit shine in the light reflection. Yeah, Reagan can’t say she’s having a bad Valentine’s Day at all.
Andre Lee:
- it initially starts with making those silly tissue box - valentines boxes and shitty cards and filling each other's up at work with silly little dollar store cards with cheap candy attached. Soon, as the day progresses, and every time you stop by his office or send anyone his way, he finds better cards that get bigger and bigger, some with gift cards for date activities or little homemade coupons.
-he was mid-conversation with Myc as he flitted through the coupon book and spotted the more sexual ones, seeing how they got more filthy the further the flipbook went on, prompting him to ditch the dollar store heart sunglasses and stare openly and swat away Myc as he tried to peek.
-due to the fact he already finished his work — which was a lie — he hurried over to your office and shut the door, locking it promptly as he neared and sidled between the desk and your chair, standing between your legs. "I'd like to redeem this little coupon here, hm?" he smiles, giggling light as you take it and look it over, smirking at the words and which one he chose.
-"Alright then, strip for me, and let's get to it," you murmur, already unbuttoning your shirt and watching as he undid his own after eagerly tossing off his labcoat and shucking off his crocs. Andre stands in just his cartoony heart print boxers between your thighs and watches as you strip slow but reveal inch by inch of what you wear beneath, and you get to watch as well as he grows hard against the seam of his boxers.
-"C'mon then," you murmur, "I won't bite," you trail a hand through the sparse hair over his lower belly where it peeks out just above where his dick is, smirking devilishly as you watch him tremble, rocking back on his heels, rewarded as your fingers lower the waistband and take him in hand, pumping slow, "but I think its in the holiday spirit to be adoring, and I know how well you love the bite."
Gigi Thompson:
- the day goes by fast, having spent it out the entire day from brunch to dinner, shopping throughout and by the time you get home you are both exhausted yet just absolutely aching to strip and go at it, having teased one another throughout the events of the day. Shopping bags from boutiques and department stores linger in the hallway, abandoned along with the trail of clothes that leads upstairs and t your shared bedroom.
-you have her wait as you get ready, kissing her in lingering, longing pecks that are laced in reluctance as you pull away before heading to the bathroom for a moment, and she takes the opportunity to strip and splay herself across the pillows in strappy, tight magenta lingerie, semi-sheer in some places, cut out in others, exposing a lot yet bound and wrapped like a present just for you, a heart pendant centered between her breasts with your initial carved into the back, close to her heart.
-you return, in your underwear as well, and take a moment to marvel at her risque ensemble before revealing the toy hidden behind your back, that little rose number you saw she had been eyeing, and you let her know that you were intent on comparing how the toy does to your mouth. Before that even commences, you inch forward upon the bed and press your thigh between the apex of hers, knocking against her cunt and you watch her keenly as her pussy throbs against soaked cotton.
-you watch with eager yet lazy eyes as she grinds against your thigh, breezing through a soft sigh as you shift it, hands smoothing across her nylon-covered thighs to toy with the hem of her underwear, thumbing her clit through the fabric as you urge her closer. "There we go, look so pretty Gigi, pretty angel," you mutter as you watch her pant, grinding desperately against your thigh and wriggling as you flexed and twitched it. "Keep going, gotta' earn your surprise baby, make it a Happy Valentine's Day."
Myc Celium:
- there’s an annual tradition you and Myc have where you try to make it through a rom-com or shitty valentines movie without getting bored and fucking.
- this time it goes awry because the rules were never about getting horny because of the movie and holding off on fucking one another. You started squirming in your seat first at a line the love interest said, or more accurately, ground out. It sounded rough and deep, harsh and mean in just the way you like it. Myc could practically smell it on you before he noticed it — well, in his way.
- you both try and occupy yourselves in the sake of competition with snacking or talking shit about the movie, but every once in a while that love interest would say something similar to how Myc would phrase words, form them into those digging, deep comments that get you clenching and sweaty. In an effort to distract yourself, you consume an entire bowl of chewy fruity candy.
-you both eventually give up, and you're quickly sprawled across his lap with him pumping loads down your throat, hands jacking him off as you ride another flagella, staining pretty pink underwear thoroughly but you pay it no mind, focusing on how even his orb is in the festive mood, pinks littered throughout, and it turns nearly fuchsia as he cums with a shout of your name, nearly whimpering as you hollow your cheeks as you suck him clean, still riding and chasing a slow-build high.
- last coherent thing the bastard says after recovering and pulling his spent appendages from your wanton mouth is something along the lines of “happy Valentine’s Day to me, you little tart” as he places candy hearts atop your cum-coated tongue, chuckling to himself as he watches you swallow down the little pure candies down with something so dirty.
Glenn Dolphman:
-he managed to get everything done in time, prepping after work for something intimate at home, doing the grocery runs and the preliminary work ahead of time to make sure it was great.
-Glenn's not great at the whole public scene and he more than makes up for it in how he tries to do right by you, making an effort where it counts. He's got your favorite foods and snacks available and the weekend is cleared, his kids are away with their mother for the weekend so there isn't any worry or concern about being quiet and private.
-you arrive a bit early, not by much, and you know how he loves punctuality. You didn't expect to walk into his home after unlocking the gratuitous amount of locks on the door to come across him, sleeves rolled and dolled up in an apron, to be cooking over the stone and looking so good doing it.
-He notes your approach and before he can comment, you do, murmuring something along the lines of skipping dinner and going straight into dessert as you snare your arms around his abdomen, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. Glenn blushes something along the lines of how he worked so hard and you nearly drop to your knees right there and then to pay homage to his efforts.
-instead, you save it for later, helping him cook and moving about the kitchen, getting shooed out when he catches you doing anything, being sweet, and you don't complain, the seat at the countertop allowing you to watch him move around. At some point, after everything had been cooked and set to a low or gentle, warm temperature, he finally gives into those little tempting comments you muttered out as he moves about, the last one about his forearms making him literally drop the spoon he was holding into the sink with a clatter before he rounds around and starts undoing the ties of the apron. "Get over 'here and bend over darlin'. I'll give you your dessert."
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disease · 1 year
Audio
SWEET ROBOTS AGAINST THE MACHINE I.Q. INFINITY | TOWA TEI, 2002
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toweroftickles · 6 days
Text
❤️ Valentine's Day Morsels ❤️
(A Whole Month Late 😅)
These were all supposed to be done for the holiday itself, but obviously that didn't happen. The problem is that I care way too much about my writing and try too hard to make it actually good. That's not why anybody reads this crap. Anywho, I've been in an anomalously sappy, romantic mood lately and whipped up some sugary, snack-sized tickle drabbles involving a few of my all-time-favorite (canon) fictional couples. :) Hope these are sweet enough! Disclaimer: this is all obviously just meant to be cute, silly fun.
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Link/Zelda (utilizing "Wilds" era)
Whenever Purah developed a revolutionary new piece of tech for the Hylian Royal Family, she of course needed a volunteer to test it out. At those times, Princess Zelda was always on-hand to make sure she had one. And it was usually Link.
The Sheikah techie was putting the finishing touches on a new observation platform propulsion system...she called it a "Skyview Tower." The Hero of Hyrule stood in the center of the device, bracing for the upcoming vertical rush. It was somewhat against his will that he was being held in place by six clinking, clanking Guardian arms. He felt like a prisoner in the teeth of a hungry beast as they hooked him to the machine, but Purah just clicked away happily on her control Pad.
“How ya doin, Link? You comfy?” she asked him. He nodded reluctantly. "Ok, I'm gonna launch you in 10...9..."
Suddenly, at the sight of Link ensnared in the repurposed robot arms, Zelda bounced up and down and excitedly tapped her compatriot on the shoulder. “Oh! Oh! Purah, wait!”
Everything paused. The princess knelt and whispered excitedly into the inventor’s ear.
What they were talking about, Link couldn’t decipher, but he saw that in the midst of Zelda’s sentence, Purah’s smile stretched bigger and bigger. After a breathy exchange, both ladies were giggling to themselves. Uh-oh. He recognized that energetic sparkle in Purah’s eye…that only happened when she knew her tests were going to have “funny” results.
Beep. Four of the Guardian arms remained holding Link's wrists and ankles still, but the other two raised up and took on new purpose. The octopoid metal tendrils zipped around his torso, snapping their claws like hungry snakes. Their laser sights booped to life and swam their little red eyes all over him...targeting certain areas...and once Purah pressed that button again, they dove right in for the attack.
The little pincer claws skittered and tap-danced under his arms, across his stomach, between his ribs. At first he panicked. Then he grinned. Squirming and struggling, Link began to laugh.
“HHHHeh…Heheh…Heh-Heh Ha-Ha Ha-Ha! Z-Zeld…Heh! Haha!”
"See, I told you he was ticklish," the princess chuckled.
"Oooo, and you were right! This is fun! Look at him dance!"
"Heh-Heh, Heh-Heh Ha...Haha-Heh! Nn-Heh!" Bolts of Gerudo lightning didn't make Link jump around this much. It wasn’t until Zelda sauntered over and tickled him herself that the machine finally wound down.
And just like that, being shot out of an untested military-grade cannon didn't seem so bad.
******
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Parzival/Art3mis (Ready Player One)
Spring Center Fortress was always a fun place in the OASIS for testosterone-soaked one-v-one games. Each arena in the cubist coliseum was a giant trampoline, regardless of size or layout, and combat was fast and frantic when no one could stand still. Only true acrobats thrived in the chaos there. Entering one of the battle boxes, Parzival and Art3mis removed their shoes and jackets and stepped barefoot onto the bouncy black floor.
"Choose your weapon, sir." Arty's declaration of war was cheekier than usual. She smirked, already sure of her victory, and make a flashy show of unveiling a fully-2D Airbender staff. Rare gear.
Parzival eagerly cycled through the digital blue pockets of his inventory...lots of options to choose from. Neither he nor Arty were pulling admin privileges and just dropping rare junk into their accounts; this loot had to be earned like everyone else’s. Oh, there was a good one...
"Toymaker Energy Bo," he finally announced. The glowing green stick popped from hammerspace and into his hands, extending four frog-like fingers from its tip that snapped and pinched at their target.
Art3mis nodded. She looked impressed. "Spy Kids 3D. Nice."
At the sound of the buzzer, a blade of cartoony wind sliced through the room and nearly split Parzival's staff in two. Their weapons clacked together as the couple danced and dodged on the springy terrain...the fight was a wild flurry of flips, leg sweeps, slides and parries. Dodging a strike at her knees, Art3mis bounced into a full backwards aerial somersault, a mere hair's breadth away from the Game Over bo's snapping claws. Just as she landed and stumbled back, the very tips of metal fingers pulled at her body, grazing against four particular spots along her torso that they couldn't quite snare.
One, on the right side of her neck. One deep in the hollow of her left armpit. One just above her hipbone. And one smack in the center of her right side, under the ribcage.
“BAH!!” Art3mis nearly slipped on the undulating floor, swiveling on her heel and pointing her finger at Wade, and had to catch her balance against the back wall. Her staff zipped off on an air current and glided away across the stadium. Disarmed. In her most stern, commanding voice, the Goddess of the Hunt blurted “Hey! No. ...Z. No tickling."
"Hey, come on, it was an accident," Parzival laughed.
For a moment everything was still, both anticipating the other's next move. But he'd seen the flash of panic on her face...blood was in the water now. Her eyes darted to her glider. Slowly, Parzival raised his staff again. Its four-pronged hand spun around and wiggled in Arty's direction, closer and closer, and the sight made her jaw clench.
“...God, sometimes I love these Boot Suits.”
“Wade, no. N...HHHA-Ha Ha-Ha! …Ng-Heh! Nuh...nonono, God n-HNN!!"
Art3mis' arms contracted, trying to block the ravenous mechanical fingers, but that only pinned them even more snugly to where they could feast on her ticklish ribs. Her trembling knees buckled. Soon she was wrestled flat onto her back and rolling around atop the rubbery floor, her leg weakly kicking at the air. The Spy Kids staff no longer attacked her...it was Parzival's own fingers that she felt clawing beneath her loose crop-top, squeezing her belly until the cackles burst out of her. The two were bouncing and wrestling and laughing until the floor squeaked. Streaks of charcoal soot blackened her soles…the trampoline's worn surface had almost-literally painted a target on her bare feet, a target which Parzival didn't ignore for long. Arty was surprised by how hard she was cracking up...and, despite the soreness in her cheeks, by how much fun she was having.
“What, what’s the matter? Ya n00b. Stop laughing.”
"Ha-Ha Ha-Ha! Uncle! Uncl-hle!"
The dull fingernails that had been scribbling beneath her toes retreated. Arty was free again. Up and down, the trampoline reverberated to the rhythm of her diaphragm's spasmodic wobbles. Even after all this time, it was still an out-of-body experience, to catch one's raspy breath as a digital avatar...when she was worn out inside the OASIS, her real-world meat puppet followed suit. Slowly she and the trampoline both calmed. She sat up, folding her arms across bent knees, and her middle finger dabbed at her eyelash.
"Ha......Ahhhhhhh Ha Ha....Huheh...Okay, okay, you got me," she chuckled. Her toes clenched up against the rubbery ground. She tried to affect a serious expression, but that wide-eyed grin of hers just wouldn't dissolve. “But don’t do that again!”
"Eh, can't make any promises," Z taunted, helping her stand. For that, he received a playful punch in the shoulder.
Like most of the OASIS, there were no real rules in Spring Center Fortress. The important thing was how you won.
******
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Aang/Katara (Avatar: The Last Airbender)
Waterbender training was going...as Sokka would put it...swimmingly. Aang and Katara stood ankle-deep in the waters of Chameleon Bay, practicing their stances. Liquid swirled around them, rising and falling like tides at their command.
"How's your octopus form?" Aang's teacher asked him.
Quickly, Aang struck the proper pose and focused. A stream of ocean foam snaked upward into the air and corkscrewed multiple arcs around his body. With a twist of his arm, the water coalesced into a near-solid tentacle, its rippling surface smoothed out, and he made it sway back and forth in a friendly wave. Katara giggled. She, meanwhile, was focused on maintaining six hovering spheres of water that orbited around a rock in front of her. Gesturing with her palm, she relaxed into a simple Single Whip posture, her right knee bent and arms outstretched, and the water balls merged into a lash. She was focused and precise...and totally oblivious to what her pupil was doing.
Guided by Aang's slow dance, a water tendril slithered across the bay and breached the surface. As soon as Katara wasn't looking, its tip rose up and wiggled against her tummy - right next to her belly button.
"Ah! Haha…Aang, stop it!" Laughing, she jumped in place and covered her ticklish spot with her hand. Instantly the Avatar’s octopus construct fizzled into droplets and splashed the flowing sea below. He stood there all sheepish and rubbed the back of his tattooed head, grinning like a buffoon.
"Heh...sorry. You were wide open." Aang couldn't escape his own mischievous nature. He was 12, after all.
There was a brief and fearful pang in his stomach...is Katara mad at me? But her smile was the brightest he'd seen on the waterbender's face all week. In fact, if he didn't know any better, he could've sworn she was starting to blush. Both benders just laughed shyly and turned to face the sandbank once more.
"Alright, let's keep going."
******
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Gwen/Miles (Spider-Verse)
The multiversal headquarters of the Spiders didn't just have a lockup, a science lab, and a cafeteria (no bagels allowed). There was also quite a museum of trophies and mementos gathered from past battles, defeated villains, and fallen heroes from all across the cosmic web. It was like Batman's basement on the scale of the MoMA. And Gwen couldn't wait to show Miles all she'd learned there.
Clasping one another's hands they dashed through the halls, often pulling eagerly in opposite directions. Miles was a kid in a candy store, and every time his eyes lit up, it reminded Gwen of a thousand reasons why she liked him. After passing the wrecked granite namesake of one "Big Wheel 5000 BC," the two skidded to a stop, lured by an exhibit that stood out from the rest: a single hand, perched atop a pedestal.
An Infinity Gauntlet, this was not. It was a cheap canary opera glove, with long, fluffy white feathers glued to its digits in lieu of fingernails. The plastic plaque beneath declared in full voice to the pair:
“‘The Tickler?!’" Frog-mouthed in shock, Gwen doubled over, laughing wildly. “No. Freaking. Way."***
"Are you serious right now? Ha…Wow, they just get lamer…”
"Heheh-Heh! Ok, ok; you’ve gotta hear this: 'Crude homemade weapon retrieved from Whedon Winslow, Earth-57780.' Some name... 'Failed stand-up comedian who turned to larceny. Distracted victims and pursuant Spider Society with...'"
But Miles wasn’t paying attention to Gwen's narration. He was busy cracking his knuckles and reaching toward his distracted girlfriend from behind, trying to project confidence from a playful smile that was actually quite shy. He was gonna get her so good, he encouraged himself.
In the midst of Gwen's sentence, kneading fingertips hooked right into her sensitive, squishy waistline.
Her gasp was loud and shrill. The girl almost popped like a chocolatey toaster pastry, but a right forearm encircled her collarbone and held her firmly in place. Before she knew it, Gwen was immobilized in a tickle hug and fell straight into Miles' lap as the two collapsed to the floor.
"AH!! *gasp* Huhuh-Huhuh Heheh! *gasp* Ah Ha-Ha Ha-Ha Ha! St-HOP ihit! We're supposed to be quiet!!"
She screamed and elbowed Miles in the stomach, but he maintained his hold. Then she tried pulling on his wrists. No good. Gwen was the most squirmy, wiggly human being Miles had ever seen; champion swimmers didn't kick their legs as hard as she did. He might as well have been trying to hold onto a hagfish in an oil spill…even with sticky fingers, it was a challenge! But watching her smile and laugh like this was so worth it.
“Wait, hold up a minute!” Miles laughed as if Gwen would actually obey him (not that she had much choice). One THWIP! of spider-silk from his wrist, and The Tickler’s glove was yanked right off its perch and into his hand. Miles didn't put it on...all he needed to do was hold one of the fingers and wield the feather like a wand.
The quills prickled like thousands of tiny needles against the nape of Gwen's goosebumpy neck...right at the signal source from whence her Spider-Sense was screeching. Any measure of defiance left in her crumbled to dust. Both of her palms slapped over her face...anything to hide it from Miles. She could have fried an egg on her cheeks for how they sizzled.
“VVVVVVVFF-EEEE!!! *Yeek!* OmigodNO - N-no feath-hers, oh my GAWWD, no feahehther-her-hers…*SNORT* AHHHMilesstoppit!” she whined and cried. The feather stroked down across her collarbone, her shoulder blade, under her armpit...
It wasn't long before one of the nigh-innumerable Spider Society horde noticed the sound of embarrassed squeals echoing throughout the gallery and swooped in to investigate. But when this particular Peter Parker entered the hall, it was found vacant. Nothing but various museum exhibits, all undisturbed in their places. And so he left.
Miles, as it turns out, had been practicing a new technique. He wasn't the only person that he could turn invisible.
"Shhh!" he whispered. Gwen was absolutely trembling in his lap, even though the tickling had stopped - it took two hands to stifle her uncontrollable belly laughs. There, with his arms around her and feeling her heartbeat against his, a warmth washed over Miles. There were a million worries flapping around inside his brain...his future with the Spiders, his parents, and he & Gwen...was it right, how they felt about each other, what they were doing? But for a few quiet moments, where nobody could see them, none of that mattered.
He almost kissed the top of her head, but got too antsy.
Maybe next time.
******
*Note: Actual Spider-Man villain. Seriously. I did not make this up.
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Victoria/Misto (Cats 2019)
The Egyptian Theater was warm and sleepy that evening. The old sun-shaped stage prop created the perfect napping spot for a young Jellicle, and the white cat lolled blissfully in its hollowed-out cradle. Her left leg dangled down off the side, pendulous and swaying like a metronome, right next to her boyfriend’s nearby head. Mr. Mistoffelees was kneeling there on the floorboards directly beneath, fumbling with a deck of cards.
Victoria peered over the side of her perch and smiled, unnoticed. Just laying beside her magician (well, a bit higher and to the right of him, anyway) carried her off in a cozy bubble of comfort. She just felt content around him. Her hands couldn’t reach to pet him…not from this angle…so instead, she held her slender leg out and, with her big toe, traced gentle crescents behind his ear.
His ear twitched. At first Misto instinctively ducked away from the impromptu scalp scratch, inquisitive chuckle aside ("Heh...what are you doing?"), but he soon came around to her affection and began to purr. His head rolled around across his shoulders, his back arched, and his ears flopped and wagged. Tori could tell the scritches were making him happy. Tufts of black fur shot up like grass between her marble toes, bristling the ball of her foot back and forth, until out of nowhere it made her shiver and pull away.
"Hmhm! Hmf..." she giggled sweetly through her nose. "Your fur tickles."
The tuxedo cat grinned and looked up at her. There was his opening. "Oh, it does?" he taunted. "It does?" With one quick yank, Victoria’s foot was down near his chest, and she was laughing and gripping the sunbeams with all her might. In her meek struggle for balance, that varnished wooden nest fought back with bumpy scrapes against her stomach and her thighs. Taking hold of his tail in his left hand, Misto started painting broad brushstrokes across Victoria’s foot with its fuzzy black tip, and she immediately began to fidget. “What about this?” Misto asked her.
"Heehee-Hih! *gasp* Hn-Hih! Th-hat's not fair, I'm stuck...Hee! It tihickles," the snow-white kitten’s jubilant squeaks bubbled up from inside her. Her ears flattened shyly. Why did this kind of thing happen to her so much? She didn’t hate being tickled, but lately it felt like she’d become something of a Jellicle magnet. If this kept up, she’d have to start wearing her ballet flats 24/7.
Almost as soon as it started, Misto let her go, and Victoria scurried her legs back up inside that little hovel, before turning around and facing him once more. She loved the chalky pink way his nose blushed, and that awkward, crooked smile of his, the one that popped up whenever he finally let himself be playful. He loved how her persimmon lips stood out against her face, and the way her head dropped timidly down to her shoulders when she giggled.
Soon the two were snuggling in each other's arms inside the heart of the sun, just waiting for the Jellicle Moon to rise again.
******
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Vi/Caitlyn (Arcane)
The papery bandages around her forearms chafed against Vi's chin. Her elaborate clockwork tattoos peeked out through the rips on her sleeveless blue-hooded top. Pink-and-orange sunset streaked through the glass. She still wasn’t used to laying on a bed as big and comfy as Caitlyn’s.
"I haven't had a back rub in...probably forever," she mused, still a little apprehensive about this kind of intimate contact.
"It's really relaxing, I promise.”
Warm palms kneaded into the Trencher girl's scapula. Spindly fingers performed slow, smooth taffy-machine pulls on the muscles between her shoulders and neck. At first she resisted, but slowly surrendered to the touching and let herself sink deep into the soft mattress.
“Wow, your…you’re rock solid,” Caitlyn murmured, impressed. Under that jacket, Vi’s physique felt even buffer than it looked. And that intricate body art…Caitlyn was so busy admiring that she neglected to notice how her hands were moving faster, stroking in tandem with a nervous pulse.
Vi froze. Her fingers skittishly drummed against the bedsheet. Everything about Caitlyn's technique was wrong in precisely the right ways: the thumbs were rubbing a little too gently down her lats, the fingernails squeezing a smidge too firm between her ribs. It was clumsy, inelegant...ticklish. All it took was one especially-wrong nerve hit, and when she could no longer keep her mouth shut, Vi’s whole body shuddered.
“DAH, Huhuh-Heheh! Hey…watch it,” she laughed. "Careful back there."
“Sorry,” Cait replied, smirking. Her hands plunged back down.
Oh come on…not again. Vi felt like a grape in a wine press when twisting thumbs pushed down hard on her obliques. Her lumbars. Her hipbones. Every knot in her lower back. Her eyes widened, and all the air in her chest squeezed out from between her lips like a squished football deflating.
“Mmff…PFFFFTHnhn!” More wriggles. The bed whined from the kicking lower legs that thumped against it. Caitlyn was at a junction of befuddlement halfway between offense and joy, between pouting and grinning. Vi always had to make things difficult for her.
“I am trying to do something nice for you; could you just hold still?”
“GRRRR, stop tickling me!” Vi snapped.
No apology this time. Only a playful tsk, and then the massage resumed.
The fluttery rubbing sensation drilled down through Vi’s back until it scorched the inner wall of her stomach. Her frustrated, reddening facial features scrunched themselves tightly together, and she repeatedly slapped the nearby pillow with the ferocity of a grunge drummer. If her bared teeth had ground any harder together, her gums would’ve bled.
“NGK! Nooo-hoho; Hng-Hn! Gkkkk…Sss-sss-st-hop i-hih-hit…! Kkkkk!!” The redhead choked on desperate glass-shard sniggers that scraped against the roof of her mouth. She couldn’t stop her angry tough-girl giggling, and it drove her nuts.
"C-hut it ouuut, I'm gonna punch you!!!"
That one wasn't a threat; it was a genuine, heartfelt warning. Caitlyn couldn’t help but flash a buck-toothed grin...that was probably enough, for both their sakes. She drew back her hands and watched Vi's quivering shoulders slow down, listened to her breath steady itself.
"Ugh...What the hell, Cait?"
“Sorry, it wasn't on purpose. You’re just…I think it’s very…*ahem* …" Now it was the cop's turn to be flustered and rosy-cheeked. "...adorable. How frustrated you get when you’re feeling ticklish.”
She was expecting a tease, a playful slap, a snarky reprimand...some kind of retaliation...especially when she saw that smirk on Vi's mouth. But instead of payback, she got a pleasant surprise: Vi sat up, turned around, and shoved her lips into Caitlyn’s so hard and fast that the blue-haired Enforcer almost fell backward.
...Perhaps she'd have to try this again soon.
******
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Kiki/Tombo (Kiki's Delivery Service)
“Hey, Kiki, I was wondering…can witches call their broomsticks to them like a magnet?” Tombo asked studiously, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He and Kiki were relaxing on Ursula’s front porch with glasses of fizzy lemonade, the sticky kind that makes your spit hurt when you drink it. It was a foggy spring morning and the crows were flapping in the damp emerald lawn.
“Hm…I don’t know; I’ve never tried,” she observed. Spying her broom across the clearing, rested against a tree stump, the young courier witch reached out her right hand, poked her tongue out, and concentrated. Unfortunately, Star Wars hadn't been invented yet, so it didn't occur to her to make an Empire Strikes Back reference.
At first her flying stick merely turned. It rocked in the crook of the tree’s roots, but nothing more. Maybe she wasn’t concentrating hard enough? But no sooner had the idea entered her mind than the crude vehicle hoisted itself horizontally, hovered a few feet off the grass, and charged. An invisible hand threw the broom at Kiki like a chucked javelin, and it was soaring straight for her face.
"Whoa! Look out!" Tombo immediately sprung into action, and his quick dive shoved Kiki out of the way just in time for him to take the blow. The broom's handle shot into one sleeve and out the other, dragging the junior aviator off the porch and tossing him headlong to the ground before it finally twitched its last.
“Oh my gosh, Tombo! Are you ok?!” Panicking, Kiki rushed to pull her friend up out of the grass. The broom handle was caught against his neck, parallel to the red-and-white stripes on his chest. He wobbled a bit when he stood...a few green stains on his knees...but was otherwise unscraped.
"Um, yeah, I'm fine. Just a little crooked here," he reassured her, swinging his arms around like a weathervane.
“Oh, thank goodness...Heh...you know, you kind of look like a scarecrow that way."
She was right...he did...but the boy’s gangly T-pose did nothing to deter Ursula’s avian buddies. In fact, right on cue, several of them flocked to his outstretched forearms. One even pecked at his ear.
“Heh-Heh! Guess I’m not a very good one!” The two shared a chuckle, before Kiki helpfully flapped her arm and shooed the birds away. "Hey, thanks. Can you help me get this out? My arms are kinda stuck."
But Kiki wasn't interested in helping right away...his pose had given her other ideas. Before Tombo knew it, Kiki's fingers were strumming up and down his sides with gleeful abandon. She kept pinching his belly and in between his ribs and affectionately watched him wiggle.
"Heh! Heheh-Haha! Hey, cut it ou-howt! Heh! You know I'm ticklish!" Tombo's smile was wide and sunny and dorky as he jumped around in place. Kiki, meanwhile, was positively giddy. She only tickled for a few more seconds...any longer and she would've gotten much too embarrassed...before carefully extricating the misbehaving broom from Tombo's sleeves and throwing it out into the field. Crisis averted.
"Heehee-Hee! I'm sorry, I couldn't help it!"
The boy brushed his sandy hair back and grinned broadly as the two sat again. "Well, you know I can't just let you do that!"
Kiki glanced down. Slowly...making sure to stretch out each moment of tension to its unbearable limits...Tombo was reaching his hands towards her, performing a spidery midair dance with his fingers.
The teen witch was already in a fit of helpless giggles and starting to blush. “Hmhm! Oho no, please don’t do it…” But instead of fleeing or curling up like an armadillo, as Tombo expected, Kiki bent over and quickly slipped her shoes off…first left, then right…and then lifted her arms skyward. “Heehee! Oh my gohosh, no, please…please don't...”
Suddenly, an old door hinge groaned. Bare feet creaked on the cold grey porch step. When Kiki & Tombo turned to look at the source of the noise, there stood Ursula, grinning and tapping her fingers on a steaming blue coffee mug.
"Hey, what are you two doing out here?"
*******A Few Seconds Later*******
"AHHH, Ha-HAAAAA Haha! *gasp* Ha-Ha Ha-Ha Ha!" Kiki screamed.
"Heheh...Heh! Hng…Heheh-Haha Haha...Hng! Heh! Stop!" Tombo's turn.
Ursula was pinning both of her young friends down to the floorboards, aggressively wiggling her nimble fingers across their bellies and watching them squirm & kick in sync together. “Uh-ohhh; look out! I'm the world's most evil tummy tickler!” She laughed, they laughed; Ursula was clearly relishing her position.
That is, until Kiki and Tombo managed to grab the artist’s ankles amid their struggle, tripped her up, and tickled her feet with her own paintbrushes until she was completely out of breath from laughing.
Kiki often wound up in tickle fights with her friends back home. But she couldn't remember one that was this much fun.
******
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Robin/Maid Marian (Robin Hood)
Cops and robbers, such as they were, didn't exist in 12th-century Britannia. So "Robin Hood vs. Prince John" was the game of choice for the rabbit brood. Skippy was playing Robin Hood, of course, which meant Sis & Tagalong were his cohorts. Maid Marian volunteered to be Prince John, so Lady Kluck had to be the Sheriff. That left Robin himself to portray the benevolent King Richard, and Toby Turtle as Sir Hiss.
“A pox on the phony king of England!” Robin cheered. At his command, his noble servants were chasing the “Prince” all over the castle courtyard. They all ran in wild circles over and over, laughing merrily, until Skippy and Tagalong managed to hop up and grab Marian by the wrists. The bunny siblings dangled off of her like bracelets swaying in the breeze, and she bent at the waist as she tried to keep walking.
"We've gotchu now, Prince John!" crowed Skippy. "Give up?"
"Oh no, what-EVER shall I do?" Marian giggled in her most over-dramatic performance yet. "Sir Hiss, seize these scoundrels!"
Toby's head - SHLUNK - sucked back into his shell. He certainly wasn't going to help. Eager to catch their dastardly villain, Sis took matters into her own hands. Jumping in front of the pack, the bunny girl reached up and pawed at the struggling Maid Marian's belly, and Skippy joined the fun by grabbing her side. Immediately, the vixen broke into breathy peals of soft, melodious laughter.
"Ohoho no...Oh no-ho-ho-ho! *gasp* Noooo; anything but tickling, Ha-Ha Ha-Ha Ha!"
She knew full well that a plea like that would only goad the rambunctious tykes on, but if she were being honest, she was having far too much fun to care. This was as close as she'd get to playing with kids of her own, at least for a little while. Letting loose an enthusiastic yip, Marian fell into the dandelions, and the wrath of the rabbit swarm rained down upon her.
A sextet of bunny hands and paws were grabbing and squeezing and scratching at her tummy. Their little fingers pulled through creases in the silky dress she wore; their feet slid and stomped along her sides and made her wiggle. The kids' squeaky machine-gun giggles were very contagious, and the already-helpless fox couldn't stop laughing herself silly. She jostled and squirmed and had to push Tagalong off of her stomach.
“Ah-Ha Ha-Ha! *gasp* Help! K-Klucky-Hee…Ro...Robin, Heh-Heh-Help!”
"Bawk! Milady! Yer noicest drrrrress!" Klucky honked.
Robin himself was busy chuckling at Marian’s misfortune. Quite clever of them, he thought. They'd make Merry Men yet. His yellow bycocket cap shifted atop his vulpine ears - and suddenly, his thoughts turned to the feather that adorned it. He removed the hat, pulled the long scarlet plume from its sheathe, and twisted it between his fingers, amused. "Ah, there we are..." the outlaw remarked to no one in particular, as if he'd made some unexpected discovery.
Kneeling down, Robin grasped Marian's right ankle and gingerly lifted her leg up out of the weeds. With that roguish, wry smile and an absentminded hum, he stared right into her eyes and swooshed the feather back and forth across the bottom of her foot.
"Oh!! *gasp* Ha-Ha Ha-Ha Ha!! *gasp*hic* Haha-Ha! Oh dohon't, please, I...I d-hon't think I can stand any more, Ha-Ha Ha!” she cried. Pools of pink stained her cheeks. Her long eyelashes were dripping wet.
"Hmm, I think the prisoner has learned their lesson, don't you, kids?" Robin declared. Despite a few protests and "awwww"s, everyone backed off, leaving the exhausted Marian alone in the grass to catch her breath. "The Prince has been vanquished!!"
"Long live Robin Hood!" Skippy cried, holding his wooden sword triumphantly aloft, cheered on by his adulating sisters. While the kids danced in a circle singing "Prince John the Worst" off-key, Robin traipsed through the flowerbed over to his lady fair and tenderly offered her his palm.
"Oh, my hero; you've come to rescue me," Marian sighed, still all atwitter and breathless and fanning herself.
But instead of taking his hand, Marian pulled Robin down into the sunny spring field with her. Robin sent her his most disarmingly handsome smolder, and when she shied away, he slowly kissed her cheek. Their embrace was perfectly accompanied by the sounds of Sis and Tagalong giggling at them in the background...and of Skippy pretending to vomit.
"Blech!" he mumbled. "...Sissy stuff."
******
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Neytiri/Jake (Avatar)
Neytiri sat up and slowly pulled her feet from beneath the powdery white sand. Infinitesimal shards of salt and earth and coral and glass sifted through the gaps between her toes with a quiet hiss. Pandoran beaches were very soft.
Jake emerged from the water and strode over to her resting spot. The sand was so smooth that he didn't even leave footprints; the pale flecks of dust simply clung to his body. "You think we should get back?" he asked her. "Mo'at's probably gonna be pissed."
"Mmmm..." Neytiri sighed contentedly and closed her eyes. "Not yet. I am too relaxed to move."
“Well here…lemme help you.” Not waiting for a rebuttal, Jake immediately stepped over her reclining legs, turned his back, and plopped down right on her ankles, straddling them. Neytiri looked bemused by his antics.
"What? What are you...AHH!!!! HN...Huheh-HEEE Heehee-Hee! NO! No PLEASE; HA-HA HA-HA!!"
The Omatikaya princess’ loud shriek scattered the nearby flock of tetrapteron into the salty air. Her grin threatened to split her cheeks open. Jake's fingertips were mercilessly prodding and caressing underneath her toes, and every single touch made her want to scream.
"Not that! G-get AWAY from MEE-HEE!!!" But her mate said nothing. Grinning, Jake bent all ten of his fingers...those damn Sky People with their extra digits...and scratched them up and down on her massive sky-blue soles.
“J-Jake!! My JAHAY-HA-HA-HA!!!” Neytiri tried to beg, but couldn't get the words out. Her voice leapfrogged through the entire octave scale, from bird chirps all the way down to breathy hyucks erupting from deep in her belly. She thrashed around frantically, her butt bouncing against the sand, and left a flurry of stinging open-palm slaps across her husband's back; even he could barely wrestle her down. Braids and beads tangled themselves like seaweed across her screaming face...how undignified it was, to constantly spit out strands of dreadlocked hair in between her bouts of tearful hysteria.
Jake didn't quit torturing her until she managed to lurch herself forward...the crunch burned her elongated stomach...and threw both of her hands at his armpits. He laughed and jumped aside at the unexpected tickle, before spinning around and scooping Neytiri into his arms. In a moment she was flat on her back once again, with Jake hovering over her and blotting out the sun, a toruk in his own right. The tremors in her chest slowed down, but her anger only boiled hotter. The smug, dopey jarhead smile of his...why didn't she hate it?
"I...*huff*...will...make you suffer for this...*wheeze*...Jake Sully," she hissed at her mate, flashing jagged fangs.
Rather than fear her, or even apologize, Jake simply tweaked her nose and pecked her on the forehead. What an asshole.
Maybe she could let him off the hook. Just this once.
******
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hwalilac · 1 year
Text
Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve
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⇴ pairing: kim hongjoong x f!reader
⇴ genre: angst, right person wrong time
⇴ words: 1.9k
⇴ warnings: mentions of anxiety, fighting, some tears and a shit ton of regret
⇴ a/n: feedback is accepted and welcome, I’d love to hear your thoughts on my work! if you’d like to be on my taglist, lmk. if you’d like to see more of my work, check out my masterlist!
⇴ Part 2
This does NOT represent the real Kim Hongjoong of Ateez, and is purely a work of fiction.
⇴ tags: @hyuckilstan @star1117-archives @whatudowhennooneseesyou @jwnghyuns @az-con @noonaishere @rdiamond2727 @ja3hwa @wonwowzers @little-precious-baby
You love him. Truly, you do. There’s no one else for you in this universe. But things aren’t going so well. Ateez, Hongjoong’s music group, have had a comeback, a tour, and now another comeback. It’s been extremely tough on him and the boys, them constantly moving. Which means they’re all exhausted. Which means Hongjoong’s exhausted, especially since he bears the responsibility of being the leader.
You’ve tried to support him. But he’s either too busy, tired, or irritated to even communicate with you. That was the problem; there was no communication. You tried, you truly did. But at some point… it all got to be too much. You couldn’t handle the late nights, waiting up for him, only for him to never come home. You couldn’t handle the tired excuses and him pushing you away. And you especially couldn’t handle being alone in your bed, with no physical contact whatsoever. You haven’t had any intimacy in months.
It was like living with a robot. He woke up, left for work, came home and slept. And that’s not even accounting for the times he doesn’t come home. You don’t even know when or if he eats. He rarely talks to you, and only gives you short answers over text. Never mind phone calls, which he doesn’t even pick up.
To be quite honest, you’re still holding onto the old Hongjoong. The man who would bring you flowers everyday, cuddle you in bed, and assure you every moment of everyday that he loved you. You’re not sure where that man has gone, but everyday you hope that day will be the day he comes back to you.
It’s the week before their comeback, and everything feels tense. When Hongjoong is home, he’s locked up in his studio, while you’re forced to entertain yourself with god knows what. There’s only so many romantic dramas you can watch before there’s none left. Here you are, standing in front of the fridge, staring into space. You’re so bored it hurts, but you also don’t want to ‘boredom eat’ either.
Your thoughts on what to do are interrupted by a door opening. It’s Hongjoong, of course. You won’t lie, you’re a little surprised he’s even coming out of his studio, but you know it won’t last long. The sound of his feet padding against the polished wood floor gets louder and closer until he’s turning the corner into the kitchen. One glance at him and you can tell he’s exhausted, and stressed.
He heads for the coffee machine. It’s quite in the room, aside from the machines groaning and mechanical sounds. You finally close the fridge, deciding nothing was good enough for you in there. You’re about to turn back and head to your room, maybe take a nap or shop online, but something compelled you to stop before you can get too far. He’s right there, just talk to him.
Anxiety builds in your chest, but you fight it off for the sake of communication. Something he never does. “Hey Joong,” you start off easy, testing the waters. Part of you feels dumb for even feeling like you have to walk on eggshells around your partner. He mumbles out a small “hey”, before pouring an abundance of sugar in his cup. He drags the cup to his mouth, testing if it’s enough, and apparently it’s good enough for him.
“How’s things going? How are the boys doing?”, you gently question him. “They’re fine. Everything is fine.” Short and sweet. Well… it didn’t seem very sweet to you. You didn’t wanna push him too much, but you didn’t want to get nowhere either. You questioned once more, “Are you excited for the comeback?”, adding a little giggle to the end in hopes it’ll lighten his mood. Yet it doesn’t.
“Jesus Christ Y/n, why are you interrogating me?” His tone makes you jump a little. He drags his hand over his face, eyes rolling a little. He doesn’t think you notice, but you always do. Your heart drops at his attitude. “I’m not,” you quickly explain, “I just wanna catch up. We haven’t talked to each other in a while…”, you trail off. No matter how gentle you are with him, it doesn’t matter. His irritation continues to grow.
“Can’t you see I’m busy? Can’t you see I’m not in the mood?” He shakes his head, trying to get his point across. Your lips twist into a frown, disappointed in where this is going. It’s all about him. He’s busy, he’s stressed, he’s not in the mood. What about you, though? How are you? How was your day? It’s never about you, only about him. “You’re never in the mood,” you mumble.
No matter how softly you mumble, he manages to hear it regardless. His eyes widen, and for a split second you think he’s finally understood what you’re trying to say. What your point was; your side of the story. But that would be too good to be true. No, instead, it just made him storm off in anger, slamming his studio door behind him. You were left alone in the kitchen, tears streaming down your face.
You rush to your room before he can come back out, slamming your own door and locking it for good measure. Of course you’re gonna spend another night crying, swallowed up by your unspoken emotions. It’s unbearable at this point, something that it’s unavoidable. You need to solve this now, or it won’t be long until… No, stop thinking like that.
You push yourself up from your bed, heading to the bathroom. After wiping and cleaning away all evidence of your emotions, you take a breath and head back downstairs. You stand in front of the door, just waiting. For what? You don’t know. For things to change without having to beg and cry and be so stressed? Possibly. But one thing is for sure; you need to get a hold of your relationship.
Thankfully the door isn’t locked, so you bite the bullet and open it. The first thing you see is Hongjoong sat at his desk, headphones pulling his mind somewhere else. So, he doesn’t notice you’re standing there. You quietly close the door, before heading over to him. Once again, the anxiety builds in your chest. Yet once again, you take the lead to try to solve things. Because he won’t.
Mustering up the courage, you tap his shoulder. The feeling startles him, making him turn around. Immediately he tenses, not expecting someone to be behind him. He relaxes a little when he sees you, but not all the way. It’s not the way he used to relax when he saw you, when you rested in his arms and you could feel his breaths evening, body relaxing into your embrace. It’s just not the same.
“Can we talk?”, you ask softly. You were hoping he’d just let you say what you have to say, but instead he sighs in frustration yet again. “It’s not talking if you’re lecturing me.” His words were like a knife to your heart, stabbing you with no remorse. He can’t be serious. You’re “lecturing”, is actually you trying to help him. Unfortunately he doesn’t see it that way.
You fight off your anger, pushing through his difficult behavior. “I’m trying to help you, Joong. I want to be there for you.” Anxiety is making your chest tighten, confrontation being something that you have trouble with. You’re really trying to make him see that you’re his friend, and you’re not the bad guy. “I don’t need help, why can’t you see that?”, he shouts, getting up out of his chair. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
Finally you just let it out, rage building up inside of you. “I’ve tried every fucking day, for months, to be there for you. I’ve put up with all your emotions, you pushing me away, every day. I’ve tried to give you space, and I’ve tried to be your friend and companion.” Your voice shakes, not only with anger, but with anxiety. You’ve held this in for so long.
“I’ve loved you for so long, Hongjoong. I understand that your job isn’t easy, I understand that you have a lot of pressure on you. But I can’t do this anymore!”, you shout back. He fires back though, “Do what? Huh?” Tears are already streaking down your face. However, you continue.
“This relationship. I can’t keep sleeping alone in our bed. I can’t keep begging for your attention, and affection. You promised me you loved me, and you’re not showing it. I cry almost every night, praying things will be different. But nothing has changed. I deserve better than this. And I’m just sorry that I didn’t recognize it earlier.” You finished your speech like that.
You gave him a chance to say something, anything. But not a single word escaped him. He just stared at you, in shock. You didn’t know what was going through his mind. But since he wasn’t willing to voice his thoughts, you left. You just turned around and walked to your room. You were done. You didn’t deserve this.
You scrounged through your closet, grabbing your suitcase and a couple bags. You quickly packed everything you needed, throwing in all the essentials. You’d be back to get everything else, but not today. Not when you just got your heart ripped out of your chest. You furiously wipe the tears off your face. Once everything is packaged, you quickly drag everything down the stairs. Unfortunately you manage to make a shit ton of noise.
Before you can get out the door, Hongjoong quickly opens his door at all the commotion. “Y/n?”, he questions you. His eyes are wide, confused with all the luggage in your hands. Then it clicks for him. “Wait…,” he walks towards you. You quickly stop him in his tracks, “Don’t.” He pleads, tears filling up in his eyes. It’s the first emotion other than anger you’ve seen from him in a while.
“You don’t get to ask me to stay. You’ve had your chance. No more. I just want to move on.” He starts crying, it finally clicks that you were leaving him. You drown out his begging and desperate pleads, deciding to walk out the door. You can still hear him crying all the way down the hall, and it makes you tear up.
But you swallow the thick lump in your throat, in favor of crying later instead. You arrive at your friend’s house, Wooyoung more than willing to let you stay with him. For the rest of the night, you curl up in a ball with his fuzziest blanket and a cup of hot cocoa. You two just talk. You talk about all the feelings, letting the tears spill whenever they feel like it. It helps, and you’re able to go to sleep without sobbing into your pillow.
But you’re left with a few thoughts that night. Ones that could possibly haunt you forever.
You would’ve given him the world.
You could’ve put up with the situation for a little longer, until the comeback was over, and then talk about your feelings.
You should’ve stayed.
You should’ve…. but you didn’t. For the sake of your mental health, and happiness, you just couldn’t. But for some strange reason, you don’t think your story with Hongjoong is over.
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gnreadergames · 26 days
Text
Weird Science
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Egon Spengler x Named FTM!Male Oc
Content warnings: Some sexual tension leading into non-graphic sexual content, mostly sickeningly sweet shit, Egon’s a lil crazy, Alex likes em cooky, doctor kink?? Is that a thing? Idk, either way a PHD title is used in a way no one should use a PHD title. Unless they are freaks like me :3
A/N: Crawling out of my hole I’ve been in for *checks watch* like almost a year to bring you this. I have no excuses guys I just rewatched my favorite movie and wanted to fuck the science man again. Super self indulgent, also for my trans readers because I’ve noticed a lot of yall thirsting after this man are trans. Congratulations my niche little subjects, here’s some food.
Word count: 13,971. - Yes you read that right. I just really wanted to write some gooey porn about the science man okay?
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
Egon Spengler sat alone in the firehouse, surrounded by the various specimen he had collected from a bust and the various machines created to catch and contain ghosts. He had just finished running diagnostics on the Proton Packs, fixing a bug that Peter had showed him on his, and was in the process of cataloging and tagging some new samples he had collected on their last bust of a succubus in a hotel.
Alex was quiet about accessing the stairs. The door to the bottom always squeaked but he made sure to pull it open extra slowly this time, and somehow successfully managed to make it all the way up to the top of the 2nd floor completely silently. Egon was perched at the main table in the kitchen up top. Its circular surface was covered with bagged petri-dishes, spore samples, and various robotic gadgets he guessed were for ghost hunting. He deftly approached from behind.
Egon’s head was down, nose intently tucked into whatever journal he was writing in now as Alex tiptoed up behind him and every so suddenly crouched down beside him to ear level and said, in a level inside voice, ‘Whatcha’ up to Spengs’?”.
Egon startled. It was Alex. It was rare for anyone to just come up behind him at the firehouse, but given recent events, he wasn't really surprised. He put down his pen, looking to get a better look at Alex.
"Hm? Oh, just going over the findings from our last bust. And the latest samples. It's all pretty...standard stuff, really. Nothing worth getting excited about."
“Yeah? Thought molds spores and fungi were your type of fun, guy-“ Alex laughed a little at his own joke, hand brushing the back of the chair and inadvertently brushing ever so briefly against Egon’s bare neck. Alex blushed slightly and hoped Egon was too focused to have noticed as he took a seat next to him.
Egon glanced up from his notes. Despite Alex making his presence very obvious, Egon had been so engrossed in his work that he barely noticed. Now, he was caught, and clearly flustered.
"Right. It's not that this sort of stuff isn't interesting. It's just..." He paused, trying to come up with the right words. "It's less exciting than seeing ghosts, you know? There's much less danger to it."
Alex cocked his head, curious. ”So is that why you do it?” He asked.
He thought for a moment, considering how to answer this question.
"In a sense, I suppose. There is always the hope that when I'm out investigating, I might encounter something truly new. Something unexpected and unpredictable. Something that could turn the whole study of ghosts on its head. And believe me, it's been a long time since we've had a true breakthrough in ghost related research."
“Is it the danger or is it the superiority? The control?” Alex blurted out without really thinking. When he realized what he said and how odd of a question it was “I just mean…” he stammered, “Do you think you like the danger, or do you like being in control? Do you like feeling powerful over the ghosts? Do you like the chase and the win? Kinda like a game…” Alex mumbled off, blushing. He felt like he only further incriminated himself into his line of thinking.
Egon laughed quietly. Clearly he wasn't offended by the question, even if it was a rather strange one. He was also more than a little intrigued.
"There is certainly an element of control, I must admit. I do like to think that I know what I'm doing out there." He paused, still smiling. "But at the same time, I'm also just as much at the mercy of the ghosts. There's always a certain...risk that I think I enjoy."
“Hm. You work in interesting ways ‘Spengs…” Alex hummed thoughtfully. His posture became a little more relaxed as he rested forward, chin on his elbow watching Egon tag samples and hum along to a janky radio he had sitting on an adjacent counter of the kitchen.
"Doctor Spengler, if you don't mind," Egon corrected, his tone only half-joking.
He glanced back down at his notes, making a few more small adjustments before finally setting the pen down.
"So you just...came over here to bother me while I work?"
“Mostly. It is my favorite pastime as you know.” Alex smirked, almost cat-like. Egon rolled his eyes, he knew the gentle teasing Alex put him through.
“Also, Doctor Spengler? What am I, one of your patients? Or do you just get a kick out of making people call you that?” Alex teased again, this time dropping his voice a little in a lusty tone that made him laugh trying to get it out in one piece.
Egon smirked, rolling his eyes in return. Alex's teasing was one of the things he actually did kind of enjoy.
”The latter, if I'm being perfectly honest. Not that I'll ever admit it."
He crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair.
"But you have to admit, Doctor is a much nicer title than Mr. Or even Professor. That title's always been a little too pretentious for its own good," he continued to banter.
I like Mr. in…” Alex paused, looking pensively upwards, “certain contexts. Like if you were to get married. Mr. And Mrs. Or er, Mr. And Mr…” Alex said casually. He hadn’t formally come out to Egon but he knew Venkman’s little vermin hands had background checked him enough to know his dating preferences already and his gender. And to be fully honest, he liked Egon more than anybody else here, even if he’d only admit it under extreme duress, or maybe too much alcohol.
So he deserved to know.
Or maybe Alex was a little desperate to share practically anything about himself in hopes of getting closer to the other man.
Egon's eyebrow raised slightly, hearing this. Alex hadn't come out to him directly, but this felt pretty obvious. It wasn't an issue to Egon anyway, but he was curious to know now.
"Alex...are you telling me you're interested in...men?"
He cleared his throat, his tone a bit nervous. He wasn't sure how to react.
“Oh-“ Alex hadn’t expected Egon to ask him so directly. But then again, he never was one for taking hints. “Yeah, I am.”
His face was redder than usual and it was obvious Egon’s bluntness had caught him slightly off guard and flustered him.
“I hope that isn’t a problem with you. I really like…spending time with you Egon.” Alex said. He wanted to leave it vague, for now at least. He didn’t even know if Egon was into men, let alone if Egon considered him a friend let alone a potential romantic interest. He didn’t want to jump the guns too fast here.
Egon looked at him, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.
"Alex...I have no problem with it. I'm very happy to spend time with you as well. I just...wasn't expecting you to say that."
For a moment, he seemed like he was going to say something more. But he held back, thinking better of it, clearly not sure what to actually say right now.
"Just didn't have you pegged as one who...preferred men's company."
“Oh really?” Alex laughed, he could lighten the mood up a bit hopefully. “What did you have me pegged for then, ‘Spengs?” he asked, leaning forward on his elbows curiously.
Egon laughed quietly as well.
"Well, you seem like you'd have an eye for the ladies." He grinned, still in an obviously good-natured way. "If you're into guys, then you're not exactly...what I would call 'typically gay' looking."
“Well…thanks?” Alex laughed. “I’m into women too, so I guess I would be in the middle of whatever spectrum you’re thinking of.”
He crumpled up a loose straw wrapper from Egon’s ginger ale and started to flick it back and forth between his fingers, nervously.
Egon nodded. He didn't seem all that surprised by this; if anything he had always got the sense that Alex was at least a little bit bi-curious, given some of the conversations they'd had.
"Right. The ol' 'bisexual' thing." He joked.
Suddenly he looked at Alex again, with an expression of sudden realization.
"Wait. Wait a minute. Are you...are you saying..."
His eyes widened slightly.
“What? Not so blunt now Egon?” Alex questioned.
“Are you...hitting on me?”
Egon looked at him, and this time his tone seemed to be one of genuine curiosity, mixed with amusement.
“Who said anything about hitting on you? Just thought you should know.” Alex was very clearly red around the apples of his cheeks and ears. He was at least embarrassed, if not caught.
Egon felt something warm and vulnerable flutter underneath one of his ribs. He swallowed.
Alex was stubborn and obviously determined not to be caught this fast in this little game they had been playing, the roughly 3 weeks of back and forth bantering, the casual drink after work when everyone else had already left, and of course, decidedly ignoring whatever happened after the attack on New York when he saw Egon exit the building safely, if not covered in goo.
Even though he, and he’s pretty sure Egon too, both remember it, neither of them have brought it up in a serious manner.
Egon laughed quietly, shaking his head. He was surprised sure, but he certainly wasn't upset. If anything, the opposite.
They were alone together, no one to hear or see anything. No one to interrupt them. Egon took a deep breath.
"Okay. I'll be honest," he said, looking Alex directly in the eye. "If you were trying to get me to figure out you're interested in me, then that definitely did the trick."
Alex smiled. It was different from his usually sly cat-like grin. This time, it was a softer, less slick looking smile with some genuine warmth behind it.
“And why would somebody as astute as the doctor Egon Spengler care about such a thing?” Alex asked, feigning being coy.
Egon had to laugh at that, shaking his head. Alex was a lot of things, but one thing he most certainly was not was subtle.
"I care because..." he paused, his smile becoming a bit broader. Despite their teasing back and forth, he was suddenly being completely genuine.
"Actually, this is probably pretty obvious, but..." He let the rest go unsaid for a moment. He didn't know what he wanted to come next. If he actually wanted to stay casual, or if he wanted more.
Alex swallowed audibly with how quiet the room had gotten suddenly.
“Egon….do you….like me?” Alex asked softly. He felt like he was dreaming, like he would wake up at any moment and this would all have been some fevered imagination of a sickly brain, a brain obsessed with this gorgeous brainiac.
Egon's face was a shade of pink now...a very noticeable pink. He shifted in his seat, clearly a bit flustered.
"I..." he said quietly. "...yes." He raised his hands up slightly, as if trying to steady himself.
"I mean...if you're okay with what that means and all that...is it...alright if I'm honest with you?"
“Please” Alex begged, voice wavering. He wanted this so much he didn’t know how to ask with words. He had practiced this scenario a thousand times over in his head as he tried to fall asleep night after night and still, he didn’t know how to respond to this. “Be honest.”
Egon swallowed, trying to gather his thoughts and his breath.
"Okay...well...I...I don't think I could have made it through the last few months without you." His words came out in spurts, each sentence broken up by pauses as he lost himself in his thoughts.
"There's always been something about you. Something I've found...really irresistible. Your mind, your energy...your...your...ahem...your...um...your...looks" He smirked softly as he finished that last sentence.
Alex flushed bright red.
Up until 10 minutes ago he had doubts the doctor even had the capabilities to be attracted to anybody, much less a man, and to hear that he had potentially been being discreetly checked out around the office made a slight sweat break out under his collared shirt and tie.
Not that he hadn’t been doing the same thing to Egon a few times when he worked… who can blame him? He flushed even harder thinking about one specific time and broke eye contact, embarrassed.
Egon couldn't help but chuckle at this. He could tell that he'd caught a very sensitive nerve. A grin spread across his face as he shook his head, still laughing a bit.
"God you're cute when you get like this," Egon said, almost teasingly.
His tone became more serious again, as he leaned forward a bit closer towards Alex.
"Can I ask you something?"
“Y-“ Alex had to swallow, mouth suddenly becoming dry as Egon leaned ever closer. “Yeah.” His eyes couldn’t look anywhere by Egon now, and he was sure his face was visibly red by now if it wasn’t before.
Egon took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say.
"Before, you said you hadn't formally told me...about...your preferences. Was there a specific reason for this? Because I'd like to know if..."
He stopped there, looking into Alex's warm brown eyes. He took another deep breath.
"Was it because you weren't sure about my preferences?"
Alex caught a nervous laugh. He didn’t want Egon to think he was laughing at him, he was just so relieved they might possibly be on the same page and that this wasn’t another time Alex would be head over heels for another guy that would leave him the first chance he got a hotter woman to look at him.
“Yeah…I was just… curious is all.” Alex looked down at the floor, nervous and a bit embarrassed to be that easy to read. “Took you long enough…I think the others were starting to think I was just weird.”
Egon smirked, letting out an amused sigh.
"Well, they're not necessarily...wrong about that." He said, teasingly as always. But it was clear that he didn't mean it in an offensive way.
When Alex said he was curious, Egon understood. He had always wondered why Alex had never talked much about personal subjects like that. He was starting to see why now.
"Right. Well, I think it's my turn to be honest, yeah?"
“I think it is, doctor.” Alex teased back. Now that he knew Egon liked using that little word he was going to be sure to make it difficult. Especially if this conversation was going the way he thought it was.
Egon grinned, playing along for now.
"Okay. My turn to be honest, then."
He looked at Alex, his expression more serious again.
"I'm still confused on one thing, though. Can I ask you a personal question?"
”Go ahead” Alex said. He supposed he could be honest about it all now since he’d been pretty much found out.
Egon breathed. "Alright. I can't help but notice that after every time we have a bust, something happens between us...how do I say this? More than before. Have you ever...noticed that too?”
Egon paused to take a deep breath, still holding his eye contact. This was the moment of truth. He'd known that for some time now, the two of them were beginning to develop feelings for each other. But he'd held back, not wanting to push it too fast. But now he couldn't hold back anymore. He needed to know if Alex had noticed too.
”I’ve…” Alex had to choose his words carefully. “I’ve noticed it too. When I started working here last year…” Alex shifted nervously and then suddenly became more serious, sitting up and placing his hands on the table. “When I started working here last year I didn’t think much about it. It was supposed to just be a stepping stone to bigger things, being the Ghostbusters official PR manager is nothing to sneeze at and I thought if I just hung out here long enough I could get a job somewhere on Wall Street, bigger things, better pay…” Alex swallowed. “But then I started to like hanging out with you guys. And then we became friends, and suddenly it became a lot harder to see it as just a job. And then after…well to be honest right before the New York attack, that night you walked me home after we were the last two here, I think I sort of thought about you differently than the rest of them.”
Alex didn’t know how to explain it, it was difficult putting it into words. “I think I realized I cared about you more. In a different way I mean. Sure I’m friends with Venkmen and Stanz and Zeddemore, but I didn’t see you like I saw them. I wanted to get to know you more, I knew it when I said goodnight to you and it was snowing on my doorstep. And you smiled at me. I think I knew then. And then of course right after that big attack happened and I thought for sure you were dead, we had no clue how anything was going to play out and I just remembered feeling like I could die of happiness seeing you walk out of that building, and…I guess before I knew it I was already moving to you. I don’t really know why I hugged you, I was just…glad you were okay. I was glad I hadn’t missed my chance with you, I guess. I hadn’t realized how special you were to me.”
Egon's eyes were locked on Alex's every breath, every word. It was like he was seeing him in an entirely different light right now. They'd flirted and teased back and forth before, but everything here sounded so much more genuine and sincere. Like they weren't even playing a game anymore, they were being very real with each other. It was a beautiful thing.
Egon swallowed, his heart pounding inside his chest. He felt like...like this was it.
"Can I be honest with you about something, too?"
“Anything.” Alex breathed. He felt like he was going to explode admitting all of that.
Egon swallowed, his heart pounding even faster. Just like Alex he was ready to explode. But he had to get this off his chest. Now that they'd started, he couldn't think of a reason to stop.
"I've never...I've never felt the way about anyone before the way that I feel about you. I didn't even realize it at first but I've been..." He couldn't believe he was saying all this. "...I've been thinking about you a lot. Too damn much of the time, actually."
Alex smiled, giddy and carefree. He felt a little dizzy with nerves.
“Really?” He breathed, excitedly. “I’m so glad. I can’t stop thinking about you, I felt like I was going crazy. I think even Venkman picked up on it this past month when you went on that blind date Stanz set you up on.”
Egon chuckled, a wide grin on his face.
"Yeah...can't say it was a successful date."
He thought back to the disaster of a date he'd been set up with a few weeks ago. It was pretty damn clear to even Venkman. So maybe they were a little more transparent than they should have been with their feelings of late towards their friend’s attempts to set them up with other people.
"I feel stupid for letting it take this long to acknowledge any of this."
“Maybe we’re both stupid.” Alex thought, dumbly. But he couldn’t let anything dampen his mood right now. He felt like he was floating, almost drunk with happiness.
“So Mr. Scientist,” he said, balancing his chin on his hand and reaching an index finger to fiddle around with the lid of an empty Petri dish in front of him, “tell me about what you think about me. What’s been on that big brain of yours?” He purred.
Egon felt his heart skip a beat when Alex started flirting with him. He wasn't used to it, but he really liked it. What he liked even more was the idea that someone as brilliant and attractive as Alex thought this way about him.
Egon chuckled, his lips curling up into a smirk. "You want me to be honest about what I think about you?"
“Honesty is the best policy” Alex nodded, intrigued.
"Yeah...yeah it definitely is." Egon leaned forward, his gaze even more intense than before.
"I think you're absolutely brilliant. Not just in terms of your science...but your mind itself. That sharp, witty mind of yours is such a...turn on." His smirk became a bit more mischievous as he spoke. "I love it when you try to outwit a person in conversation, when you get all riled up and competitive.... I love even more that I've never seen you lose."
“You have such a way with your stupid words.” Alex giggled. He was sure he was making a fool of himself but he couldn’t believe somebody like the Egon Spengler found him attractive. He could count on one hand the times he’d been this lucky in his entire life.
“You really know how to flatter a guy,” Alex admitted, tracing the rim of the Petri dish with the same finger absentmindedly.
Egon smiled, chuckling at that, but not denying the accuracy.
"I wasn't kidding when I said your mind turns me on."
He leaned in even closer, his gaze burning into Alex's. He looked at the way Alex was tracing the rim of his empty petri dish and had an idea.
"I have a suggestion..."
“Shoot.” Alex said, sharpening the ‘T’ sound, almost bitingly.
Egon swallowed, almost nervous looking. But he thought this would be the perfect way to test the waters, to see just how interested Alex really was before he took it a step further.
"Close your eyes..."
“Okay.” Alex said, cautiously but trusting. He knew Egon wouldn’t hurt him and if anything, not knowing what was coming next and being completely at the will of the other man kind of made him feel safe. It was nice. It made his heart race a little.
He shut his eyes gently, waiting.
Egon smirked, enjoying the game he was playing. He stood up, and slowly started moving behind Alex, his movements very subtle and patient. When he got behind him, he took the same index finger that Alex had been tracing the edge of the Petri dish with and ran it softly, delicately over the back of Alex's neck, sliding it into his hair and slowly running it through.
Alex shivered at the touch.
Christ.
Okay.
He hadn’t been expecting this. Egon wasn’t a touchy person, not even in the throes of victory, so this was new, and honestly thrilling for Alex.
“Egon…” Alex practically purred, keening towards the touch. He liked it. He liked it a lot.
Egon smiled, pleased with the way Alex reacted to it. He decided to go a step further, and slowly, still using only his one index finger, started stroking Alex's hair down his neck, and eventually down his shoulders as he continued to trace a line down Alex's back.
Alex shivered and twitched with every vertebrae that Egon ran his finger past.
“This another one of your experiments, doctor?” Alex teased with a voice lower and slower than normal, but this time the air was thicker with something unspoken and unseen. But it could be very, very felt. Distantly, Alex was glad everyone else had taken this Saturday off.
Egon smirked. He loved that he was making Alex squirm, that he was clearly enjoying this so much. Alex's lower and slower voice made his chest tremble with a mix of emotion. A mix of excitement and fear. He was enjoying this, this flirtatious back and forth, but now he was feeling more daring…
"No experiment...this is something...much more personal."
“And what exactly are you testing here?” Alex asked. He still hadn’t opened his eyes yet, but now he thought he couldn’t bear not being able to see Egon for a second longer. He opened his eyes, and titled his head slightly back and was met with an angled view of his affections.
His heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t expecting Egon to look anything less than well…perfect. But this was new. Egon’s once soft brown eyes looked almost black with how dilated his pupils were, and his olive completion was a richer red tone around his face and ears. He may be more cognitively in control of the situation, but it was good to see that he was just as affected by Alex as he was by Egon.
Egon smirked and stepped even closer, their mouths finally just inches away from one another. He watched as the corners of Alex's lips quivered ever so slightly, and he couldn't help but feel a wave of joy sweep over him.
"My test..." Egon's voice was lower, and more seductive than ever. "...is to see exactly how far I can push it before you can't take it anymore."
As he spoke, he leaned just a tiny bit closer. Their lips were almost touching…
“Egon,” Alex’s voice was barely a whisper but it somehow only came out as a strung out whimper. He titled his head back ever so slightly more and he felt Egon’s breath hot on his lips.
Alex would beg for mercy if he had to. He just wanted Egon. He was so happy he could cry. His entire body felt like it was vibrating with how wired and nervous he was.
Egon knew at this point he couldn't hold back anymore. It was obvious he was just as nervous as Alex was. And in this intense moment, he needed to let him know that. His hands fell to Alex's shoulders and he pulled him even closer, so their chests were pressing sharply up against one another.
Egon's voice was lower than the lowest, as he began to whisper right back.
"God do you know how badly I want you, right now? What I would do to you if I could right this second?"
Alex’s head spun. Who was this? His Egon was quiet and professional, but he couldn’t deny that he hadn’t thought of this side of Egon, better said, dreamed of Egon having a side like this. He knew Egon was a man of control, and rules, but he also knew Egon, like every man, had buttons.
And buttons, could be pressed.
“We’re alone for the day.” Alex reminded. Egon was so close their foreheads were pressed together. Eyes locked.
Egon froze at that, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing. He felt Alex's body pressed up against him, his heart pounding in his ears. His lips were mere centimeters apart, now. And he was suddenly hit with a wave of...nerve? Fear? Excitement?
Finally, Egon's mind won the war within.
"God damn it, it's taking every ounce of self control I have right now not to just start ripping you apart with my teeth..." he said, eyes darker than before.
Oh.
A little crazy.
Alex could work with a little crazy.
“Please-” let it never be said that Alex was above begging, because he wasn’t. Especially not for Egon. He would beg for Egon to call him worthless and pathetic. He would beg for Egon to spit on him. Egon being nice to him? Practically as strong as cocaine straight to the brain.
Alex leaned forward and clumsily brushed his lips against Egon’s for a mere second before pulling back, mouth slightly open, eyes lidded. He wanted Egon to want this as much as him. He wanted Egon to want him.
Egon stared into Alex's eyes, his heart racing a thousand miles a minute. Just seeing Alex's lips meet his, even for just one brief contact, sent a jolt of pure euphoria through his entire body. He'd never realized just how much he'd wanted this...how much he'd wanted Alex, until this very moment.
Finally, he did it. Before he had a chance to second guess his actions, Egon let his instincts take over. He leaned forward and pulled Alex back into him with one firm and quick motion. He then proceeded to take over this kiss…
Alex gasped into the kiss. He wasn’t expecting Egon to be this rough, but he guessed there was a certain aspect of desperation on both of their ends. Egon felt like he was devouring him. Alex’s knees felt like they were going to buckle, and he was lowering slowly, slowly, with pathetic little noises as Egon kissed the breath out of him.
He broke for a second, as Egon leaned over him, pushing his back into the chair, legs straddling it weakly. “Eg-“ he gasped as Egon went in for another kiss, just as hungry as the last. Alex broke away again, more determinedly “I’ve wanted this for so long. So, so, long…” his legs still weak, he leaned into Egon’s chest and arms, holding him.
Egon was in almost as much of a stupor as Alex, that little bit he'd tasted of him before had sent his heart soaring to new heights. His whole body felt alive, every single nerve. He couldn't believe how much he had wanted this, how badly he'd want to take it even further. But right now, was just the two of them, alone, the downstairs door locked.
As Alex spoke, Egon squeezed him harder by instinct alone. It was only making him yearn for much, much more…
“How long?” Alex asked between kisses. His right knee gave out and he felt Egon pull away. He made a weak noise of protest as Egon’s body pulled from his, until he realized he was being pulled with it and spun around. Suddenly, he found himself being picked up by the hips and sat gingerly and quickly onto the edge of the table, legs straddled and Egon standing in between. He kissed Alex again, tongue slipping into his mouth. He obviously didn’t seem content with the position though, too far, as he broke apart again soon after to grab Alex’s hips and yank him toward Egon’s standing ones, legs locking behind his back.
“Since when?” Alex asked again. “When did you know?” He felt drunk as Egon moved to kiss his jawline.
Egon smirked when he realized what Alex was actually asking him. To have someone this sharp, this witty being so...weak in your hands was an incredibly intoxicating experience. But the time to pick was over, now was all about play.
"God I don't know...it's been a while." Egon moved back in to capture Alex's mouth once again, holding onto his hips for dear life. "Since I started to want to see the sides of you that weren't professional, that weren't strictly business...I wanted to see exactly how human you could be."
“I’ve wanted you since that day in January. The one where we had the poltergeist in the-ah!” Alex winced as Egon moved to his neck and bit at a sensitive spot just under his ear, soft tender flesh. “S-since, that day- when- when you came back to the lab in your- your lab clothes all-” Alex’s left hand, the stronger of the two, came up to grasp at the dress shirt stretched over Egon’s back, “and th-they were all singed and dusty, and you were covered in- mmhp- sweat, and you didn’t even look at me when you-you” Egon kissed Alex to shut him up briefly, and for a moment there was nothing but the noise of soft, labored breathing and the creaking of the wooden table as they pressed against one another, but eventually Egon let him go in favor of biting at his neck again. “You- you didn’t even look at me, just rolled, rolled up your sleeves and went to work in your lab. All serious, brow furrowed, covered in grime but still wanting to get data while- ah- it’s fresh-“ Alex smiled remembering it. He still felt fuzzy and the memory was still fresh. “You’re incredibly toned for a scientist did- did you know that?” Alex asked in a breathy voice. “You have a great- great body.”
Egon huffed a laugh against his neck.
Egon couldn't help but feel his ego inflate and his cheek turn red from Alex's compliment. He'd never considered just how toned his body was, especially with his lack of exercise and all his nerdy, intellectual pursuits. As Alex rambled on, Egon couldn't help but get more turned on.
He smirked as he bit down on Alex's neck again and felt his lips twitch against it, as if Alex was moaning.
"I think you might be the first person in a while who's actually taken the time to notice..."
“How could I not?” Alex asked. Egon had momentarily paused his nipping and chewing to lift his head and look up at Alex. His big, dark eyes were even darker than usual and it was hard to see where his pupil and iris even separated.
He looked, almost animal with it.
Alex had never seen a not very methodically, almost scientifically, controlled side of Egon. This made some part of Alex’s hindbrain flicker with a warmth he had only felt on lonely nights he spent fantasizing with his own hand and brain.
Egon smirked and tilted his head up as he looked at Alex's face, that perfect, beautiful, wonderful face that had eluded him and teased him for so long. He just couldn't get enough. Every part of his body was tingling with pleasure and desire. He wanted nothing more than to take Alex right here and right now.
"You look beautiful." Egon said it sincerely, truly believing every word of it. But then he leaned up and whispered, his voice a mischievous and enticing husk. "I'm going to make you even more beautiful..."
Alex complied limply. Whatever Egon wanted. Alex felt himself slipping quietly under into that mindset he loved so much. He didn’t need control. He trusted Egon. Whatever he wanted. He knew best. He wanted to make him proud. He wanted to do whatever would make Egon happy.
Alex reached his neck desperately towards Egon and caught one last desperate kiss with a small sound before he finally gave in and let Egon do whatever he wished.
As he watched Alex willingly yield to him, Egon couldn't help but smirk. The look on his face was just as he pictured: submissive, trusting, almost worshiping. He couldn't wait to push the limits of this power and see just how desperate his new lab assistant and lover was.
So Egon did just that, pushing Alex's shirt up and kissing his collarbone, slowly making his way up to his neck again. He bit and nibbled at his collar bone, all while rubbing his hands along Alex's back and hips.
“Ah!” Alex gasped. He was particularly sensitive on his hips, and once Egon knew, he used it devilishly. His thumb ran a steady back and forth rhythm over a ridge in his V-line, making Alex shiver. Another hand curled possessively over Alex’s back and made him preen with a particularly fiery feeling in his chest. Alex continued making weak and steady noises as Egon worked over his collarbone, biting and kissing everywhere he could reach, hands moving to grasp the skin he couldn’t cover with his mouth.
The power and the control that he was asserting over Alex was making Egon feel like he was in some kind of haze, like he was just floating around in a sea of bliss, a euphoric dream that he didn't want to ever end.
The way Alex reacted to his touch made his own heart skip a beat, hearing him make those soft little sounds as he nibbled just so slightly harder on his neck and collarbone. It was pushing all his buttons, making him want so much more…
“Please-” Alex begged, not entirely sure what exactly he was begging for. Whatever Egon would give him. Whatever Egon thought he deserved. Alex’s hands, at one point limp around Egon’s waist, now were clenched tightly into his shirt and his hair, respectively, as Alex’s body curled into Egon’s.
Egon shivered again as he heard Alex beg him, heard him pleading for more.
This was exactly what he had been dreaming of. A completely submissive Alex, one who would let Egon take control completely, one who would gladly turn over every inch of his body to Egon for...for whatever Egon wanted.
It was such a turn on that Egon couldn't even form whole sentences, his thoughts were getting the best of him and his body was ready to take...no, to take control.
“Whatever you want.” Alex wanted more. Whatever Egon would give him. He laid flat on the table as Egon pulled away and surveyed him quickly, eyes flitting across his body as a whole, flushed, shirt pushed up, hands clutching feverishly at the flat table finding nothing to grab on to.
Egon smirked, loving the look of desperation on Alex's face, knowing that he was completely and utterly at his mercy now. And as Egon looked over him, his eyes trailing up and down his body, it was like Alex's features became bolder, brighter, more handsome. He looked like a perfect specimen to him, to the point where Egon almost couldn't take his eyes off of him.
"I'm going to make your day today..."
“What are you going to do?” Alex asked, although he really didn’t need to know. He was okay with whatever. As long as Egon was happy with him, he’d do it.
Egon brushed a hand along the side of Alex’s stomach and Alex made a little hurt, punched out noise from his gut and curled into the touch, but it was gone almost as fast as it appeared.
"Just...just close your eyes for me and stay still for a minute." Egon's voice was heavy, and slightly out of breath. He was almost desperate himself, he needed this just as much as Alex, and he was willing to do whatever it took to make Alex want him and love him for the rest of his life.
Alex could almost physically feel Egon's desire in the air, his need for more, seeping off from him as it grew with every passing second. Egon's body was trembling, his breath quick and shallow.
”Okay…” Alex swallowed for the first time in a while, finding his mouth dry but his lips slick with spit. He felt slightly debauched, but he preened at the knowledge that it was Egon who made him this way. Only for Egon.
He sat patiently and waited for whatever Egon had next.
Egon watched as Alex closed his eyes, watching him with baited breath and a deep seated hunger his lips were practically quivering with desire. And as he watched, the hunger inside him only grew more intense.
Quickly, his hands traced along the top of Alex's body, down his sides, all the way down to his thighs, caressing and teasing his body, making sure there wasn't a single inch missed.
Alex whimpered. He felt crazed. Egon’s hands felt so large and warm, almost feverish. Everywhere he touched felt like it was melting. Alex was practically drunk off the feeling as he squirmed with every new press into tender flesh that Egon figured out could make him writhe.
Just the sound of Alex's squirms was enough for Egon to get worked up even more, each touch and each squeeze of his body had him trembling with desire, his body quivering with excitement, ready to explode out in a fit of sheer pleasure.
Egon's hands moved faster, his touches more firm. He was determined to tease every last ounce of sound out of him that he could.
“Please, enough teasing!” Alex begged. He was almost crying now. His heart has been racing this entire time. He still had one more secret to tell Egon and the longer the foreplay went on, the more nervous he got about telling him.
Hearing that voice break out in tears in response to his touches only sparked more hunger in Egon's chest, but when he heard the pleading come from Alex's mouth, that was enough to cause the last pieces of resistance to crumble. He had to. No more teasing, no more playing, this was the real deal. He needed him now.
"All right, yes, I will, just...just let me-" Egon said, but his words were cut short by his own mouth coming down hard against Alex's.
Alex moaned loudly. Perhaps the loudest one yet as Egon’s hands grabbed his hips and seared him against his pelvis firm. He could feel…a certain hardness against his leg as Egon’s tongue explored his mouth and practically stole his oxygen away.
Egon groaned into the kiss, the sound rumbling up from deep in his chest. He couldn't hold himself back much longer now, the only thing on his mind was getting more. More of this perfect body, more of the sound of his pleas and whimpers.
Egon's hand moved downwards, squeezing firmly and squeezing Alex tighter against him. It was all he could do to keep himself from pushing him down and taking what he wanted right then and there.
As Egon’s hand moved downward, Alex’s hand suddenly shot out and grabbed his wrist in a moment of blind panic and clarity. It shocked Alex as much as it did Egon and for a moment they both simply stared at one another, panting, flushed.
“Egon…Eg-I’m…” Alex started, trying to word something but seemingly choking on it. “I need to tell you something before…before we do anything else.” Alex’s heart was in his throat. He thought he wouldn’t even get past the admission of him being bisexual, he didn’t know how to breech this. “Egon…I’m transgender.” Alex swallowed, throat tight with want as much as it was with fear.
Egon froze, hand still in mid air when he heard the words coming out of Alex's mouth. His breathing stopped, his heart beating out of his chest, it was a miracle that he didn't fall off of the table he was sitting on. Egon just stared, his mind whirring a million miles a second, trying to process what Alex had just told him.
All movement stopped.
God.
God.
He’d ruined it.
Ruined it.
Alex’s face burned with embarrassment. He knew Egon wouldn’t want him after this. He just thought…he doesn’t know what he thought…that in some miracle Egon would accept him?
His face burns with more than embarrassment, with shame.
He gets ready for Egon to push off and potentially even hit him. For baiting him. For being…a freak.
"Say that again."
It wasn't the reply Alex expected. It wasn't words that expressed disgust or anger or shame, but something deeper- something that spoke volumes to the depth of his emotions for him. Egon was breathless, his mind a million miles a second, but the intensity of the words in his throat were only getting stronger. He needed to hear it one more time to make sure he wasn't just hearing things.
Alex swallowed.
“I’m…I’m transgender.” He said, voice barely above a whisper.
His hand gripped the table’s edge, he could reach it from where Egon had pulled him closer to his hips. He was sweating, both from being hot, so so hot, pressed up against Egon, but also from nerves and anxiety chewing at his gut.
Egon's stomach flipped, his heart racing as blood rushed to every inch of his body. His mind was completely overwhelmed by the news he was just told, and he felt the heat and the intensity growing inside him again. But this time it was mixed with something new, with a hunger that he's never experienced before.
"Just one question..." Egon asked, his voice thick and heavy with desire and love. His body was trembling with need now, his heart ready to explode into sparks and flames.
”Yeah?” Alex whimpered.
Egon reached forward, grabbing Alex's wrist, pulling him closer, almost into a hug so he could whisper something in his ear.
"Are you a man?"
”Yes” Alex squeezed his eyes shut and whispered. Egon was so close.
"That's all I care about."
Egon's breath was so hot and heavy as he spoke, it felt like his words were igniting the room. He finally let go of Alex's wrist, his body trembling uncontrollably as all the desire he felt before seemed to have reached its peak. He was ready to take him, to mold him into whatever shape he found most desirable.
Jesus.
Jesus.
Alex felt like he was going to pass out. Or die. Maybe both.
His head was practically spinning. Egon’s hands grabbed his hips harder and slid down, brushing the waistband of his pants slightly further, exposing his hips and the beginning of a small happy trail.
He could cry.
He was so happy.
He was crying he realized. Tears slipped from his eyes as Egon began biting at his collarbone again.
Egon was like a heat seeking missile, his mouth, his lips, his teeth moving to whatever place he could find that would generate the most response out of Alex. He couldn't get enough of him, his lips trailing down his neck, down to his shoulders, his hand caressing his hips as he slowly pulled him even closer so he could bite, and bite, and scratch, and maul, and love every inch of him like he was a starving animal after the meal that had been denied him for months on end.
”Egon-“ Alex whimpered. His hands clawed at the thin fabric stretched over Egon’s back. He had money to afford the expensive thick type, Alex knew exactly what he was getting paid, but he also knew Egon preferred practical. Something he loved about him. He wasn’t afraid to come back to the lab dripping in ectoplasm or singed with soot.
In fact, maybe now Alex would finally have an excuse to get all those ruined cheap shirts off him.
Alex kissed at Egon’s mouth when he could. Brief, wet, desperate kisses.
Egon's mind was filled with nothing but Alex now, the sweet sound of his cries, the feel of his fingernails digging into his back, the way his body fit so neatly against his own....he couldn't go back, he didn't want to, he didn't intend on letting go of him until he finally saw him broken, broken and his, his alone.
Egon's desire continued to grow with every passing second, his breath getting heavier, his movements becoming more aggressive. He needed more.
“Whatever you want. Do whatever- I Just- ah - I need more” Alex pleaded. He knew it was pathetic. Begging to be taken, especially by someone he admired so much. He wanted Egon to think he was an equal, someone to be taken seriously. Not just some…whore. Something cheap to be broken.
But…maybe…just maybe…
He would like to be Egon’s anything.
He could be Egon’s plaything if he wanted. He’d bend.
He’s submit. He’d even let Egon break him, as long as he put him back together at the end.
And he would.
Because he knew Egon.
He trusted Egon.
So…
“More” he begged.
Egon's mind was just pure adrenaline now, thoughts coming one after another like a machine gun firing. Thoughts of him, of how he made this boy want him so desperately, how he trusted him so much that he'd let him do anything, even let him break him...it was everything he'd ever dreamed of and now that it was actually a reality it was all he could think about.
Egon's hands slid down to his back, gripping him harder, pulling him closer as his breath got heavier and heavier…
Alex bucked his hips against Egon, and the sweet friction that was there for less than a second lit a spark in his mind. He felt like goo. He was a specimen. All for Egon.
Now that he thought about it…he wouldn’t mind being examined like a subject. Put on display for the doctor.
Alex shivered at the thought.
“I really-really want you” Alex breathed, clutching at him.
Egon's movements slowed down as he saw how much he was affecting Alex now, how his actions were making the man absolutely tremble with desire and need. He savored the feeling, enjoying the feeling of his own dominance and the power it gave him. He could make Alex do anything, make him do anything he wanted…
"I want you bad..." Egon breathed, his voice heavy and thick with need as his mouth came down to Alex's neck, kissing and nipping along the way. Egon was trembling all over now.
”Then do something about it,” Alex bit, and leaned back baring his neck to Egon who bit it with a feverish intensity.
Egon moaned, the sound echoing in his ears as he bit and nicked along the sensitive areas on Alex's neck.
"What do you think I'm doing right now?"
Egon's grip on him had begun to loosen, but it was only so he could move one of his hands around to push Alex's hips forward and make him buck even harder against him.
“AH!” Alex jumped as one of Egon’s hands slid down his back and into the back of his pants. It cupped flesh, squeezing. Alex rocked against the touch, his front brushing against Egon’s feeling just how excited he was by this.
“I want more though…” Alex pawed at Egon’s neatly tucked shirt, finally managing to ruck the back up enough to grab skin just on the small of his back. He tried to pull him closer. “There are beds just a few rooms away you know…” Alex bit at Egon’s ear and got an almost growl-like sound in response.
Egon's mouth left his neck as he heard his ear being nipped on, making his grip on him tight again. He'd been thinking the same thing, the pull of their bodies together was too much to pass up.
"You know what? You're right..." Egon murmured, the only sound the deep breathing of the both of them as Egon began to push Alex towards the beds, eager for the chance to give him everything he wanted.
Alex stumbled blindly, stupidly, towards the bunk room. He knew which bed was Egon’s, and was suddenly thankful for the twin size, as it meant they would have to be as close as possible.
“Egon…” Alex breathed as he stumbled backwards onto the bed, Egon’s hands cupping his jaw. Alex begun to work on pulling the front of Egon’s shirt out of his slacks.
Egon's heart was pounding in his chest, the sound just loud and heavy in his head as he watched Alex start to pull down his shirt. His mouth was dry as all of the blood had rushed to his lower half at this point, making his entire body feel hot all over. He was practically shaking with every touch of Alex's hands as he held himself back at the moment. He could let himself go later, he had to wait just a few more seconds…
”Can I?” Alex asked, practically doe eyed as he looked up at Egon, flushed with lips wet with spit.
His hands fumbled with the zipper of Egon’s pants and the buckle of his belt. This was the only time he cursed how perfectly dressed Egon was. It got in his way of what he really wanted right now.
"Oh... oh yes.”
Egon's entire body was trembling in anticipation, his entire being was just craving for anything he could get from Alex and now to think that he was going to let him take off his pants to get to him....he was not going to last long if this continued.
Alex deftly and quickly undid Egon’s belt and zipper with a speed that told Egon he had done this before, and a primal, stupid part of Egon’s brain flared with jealousy. He wanted to kill whoever taught Alex that. Alex was his.
Alex yanked Egon’s slacks down and his briefs along with it. Quickly, he nosed along the V of Egon’s hips with the ferocity of a starved animal. He licked and kissed anywhere he could get his mouth to.
Egon couldn't stop the guttural sound of pleasure that came from his mouth, his legs wobbling with every touch of Alex's tongue and mouth. His breath was heavy and sharp, his body trembling with the intense desire now coursing through him.
Alex’s hands moved to cover whatever he couldn’t get with his mouth. He wanted this to be good for Egon. He wanted to be good for Egon. He made sure to keep his teeth out of the way, using his tongue mostly. He was still shy, new at this despite the fever with which he undressed Egon.
Suddenly, he felt a heavy pressure on the back of his head.
Egon’s hand.
Egon shoved ever so lightly, forcing Alex to go lower. He had to breathe through his nose now, which was new. His eyes watered up again, threatening to spill.
He liked this Egon though. This new, dominant, side. He liked the pressure of his hand, he liked being told what to do.
Egon's breathing was hot and heavy as he pushed Alex lower to him, his breath rushing out of his mouth with a guttural hiss as he pushed him lower and lower and lower. He needed what Alex was giving him now more than anything he had felt before. He wanted it, needed it, his entire body was trembling in a mixture of anticipation and pleasure, he was close, and he was close very very quickly.
Alex could feel Egon tensing up. He didn’t want this to end so soon but he didn’t know whether or not Egon wanted to go…that far with him.
Egon’s hand released up on his head slightly. Gently, the same hand came to brush sweaty hair behind Alex’s ear.
Egon was hot in Alex’s mouth. Like melting velvet. Alex could stay here forever, warm and fuzzy, doing whatever Egon says. Whatever makes him make the sounds he’s making now.
"Stop..." Egon breathed, his voice was thick and heavy as it was hard for him to get the words out. He was too close now, he needed to keep control of himself for just a little longer, to hold back a bit before he blew this early.
"Look at me." Egon hissed through his teeth as he grabbed Alex's hair and pulled him back up to his face like a demanding master grabbing his pet's leash.
Alex almost choked, pulling quickly off of Egon. His hands were strong, and huge compared to Alex’s face. It was a pretty picture for Egon. A flushed and hazed Alex, back arched, shirt ruffled and pushed up, midriff showing.
“Egon-“ Alex’s voice was hoarse. There was still spit connecting him to Egon.
Alex’s hands drifted to Egon’s thighs. He felt bad, he’d have to wash these slacks for Egon later. He was pretty sure he was going to have to wash this entire bed later.
"Put your hair back" Egon demanded, using all his strength to keep himself from grabbing Alex and pulling him back down for more.
He couldn't see anything else right now other than Alex. He wanted him. He needed him to be his.
Alex’s hair was short so he simply tucked it behind his ear. He blinked up at Egon and got the cue as Egon began tearing at the buttons of Alex’s shirt.
“Ah!-“ Alex tried to protest his shirt being destroyed but Egon simply kissed him and pushed him further up the bed towards his pillows.
“I’ll buy you a new one-“ Egon mended as he pulled the scrap off of Alex’s back and began working to undo his pants, still almost fully dressed himself.
Egon was now barely thinking, he'd let his desire take absolute control of him. He was practically ripping off Alex's pants out of the pure desire to be able to see more of his body. It was almost animalistic the way he was moving now, he couldn't even see straight. All he knew was that it was time to take Alex as his own, to possess him completely.
“Please-“ Alex coughed as he broke away from Egon to paw weakly at his pants, slug around his hips.
Egon kissed him animalistically.
”Baby,” Alex whined. The blood rushed straight to Egon’s lower half.
"Please what?" Egon said, his hands moving to pin down Alex's hands, taking charge of the situation now. He knew a guy like this didn't want to be in charge. The way Alex had been acting so shyly earlier, the way he'd begged Egon to take control made it clear he was just too…overwhelmed to have any kind of power in this situation. Egon let his mouth roam over his neck, gently scratching and biting wherever he thought would get a reaction out of him.
Alex’s breath was coming in shallow puffs now. His eyes rolled back in his head as Egon continued to make dark marks around his neck. He wouldn’t be able to cover them, they’d know. They’d know he was Egon’s.
“Please- doctor!” Alex begged. Egon’s hand roamed up Alex’s lower half, now completely open to him.
Egon stopped, his hands drifting down to his hips again to grip them. He liked how Alex's eyes rolled back into his head as he called him doctor. It made his heart beat to think that Alex would want him to be his doctor, even if it was just for this moment, because that was exactly the title he wanted right now. He wanted to do experiments on him, to see the inside of him, to break him down into all of his pieces, then putting him together again like a puzzle to make him exactly what he needed.
“Take me…” Alex swallowed, mouth dry, “Take me apart…” He finally managed to pull his lovers pants completely off and his shirt as well, leaving him in the same state as Alex.
He was glad the fire house was warm. Hot, even.
Maybe that was just them two.
Egon's entire body shivered at that one sentence. It was as though he could feel the heat radiate off of his own body, his heart beating so quickly that it almost hurt him.
This boy, Alex, he was exactly what Egon needed. Maybe not just for a few nights, but for forever.
"Then I will take you apart..." Egon said, it was almost a threat. No one else was getting him, he was his.
“Please,” Alex kissed Egon as he felt him move. This position was similar to the table, except now Egon towered even more-so over him.
They hadn’t grabbed any sort of…help…for this. It was just them. Bare. Alex hoped Egon was fine with that. He was on the pill after all.
“I want you-“ Egon kissed Alex to shut him up and moved. He felt hot. Much hotter than anything or anybody Alex had been with before. And his body was, larger. He covered Alex’s whole chest, and he could feel one of Egon’s hands tracing one of his top surgery scars.
Egon shivered again, his body shaking with both the desire he was feeling and the thought that there was nothing to stop them from going all the way, no condoms or contraception, nothing at all. He wanted to take Alex and to make him his, on every level.
Alex's scars were just a bonus to him, something he liked to see on another's body as it told more about who they were. He would always appreciate the scars Alex got, because it made him know Alex even more.
“I don’t need…prep,” Alex breathed. He flushed with the admission but it was true. He watched as the realization suck into Egon’s face and he grinned, devilish.
“Yeah?” Egon asked, petting Alex’s side sweetly. It amazed him how even in such heated moments like this Egon could be so sweet and shy.
“Was thinking of you while I…” Alex admitted in a breathy, sort of out of control voice before he could even think about what he was saying.
"You were?" Egon whispered back, his voice full of shock, it seemed almost impossible that Alex would think of him at all when he was alone.
"Just me?"
Egon's hands began to make their way over Alex's body again, stroking down his sides as he watched for his reaction.
“Only you.” Alex moaned as Egon’s hand teased him.
“Wanted to be Yours” Alex purred. He kissed the bridge of Egon’s nose, something he knew the other man was sensitive about, but to Alex, he loved it, it was strong and regal just like the man it was attached to.
"Oh..." Egon breathed as he heard Alex moaning and kissing his nose, he could feel his heart skipping a beat at that admission. No one had ever said anything like that to him before, he didn't expect anyone to ever tell him that they wanted him, let alone only him. His entire body was trembling now as he felt a rush of emotions all at once.
He lowered his face back to Alex's and kissed him deeply, unable to help himself at all.
“Please, please need you now, needed you yesterday,” Alex began to whine, clawing at Egon’s back freely now. He was sure he would leave faint red marks in his wake. He wanted to mark Egon as much as Egon wanted to mark him.
He drew his legs around Egon’s back and pulled him closer into his hips, barely pulling him in.
Alex grit his teeth. He was so hot. He felt like he had a fever.
Egon groaned at that as his grip on Alex tightened, his breath coming out sharp and heavy as he pressed himself into him with everything he had. His heart was racing and he could feel his vision blurring at the heat now, he was so worked up that it was becoming difficult to keep steady because everything that Alex was doing was sending him straight to the breaking point.
Alex’s whines and moans took a sharp turn into a higher register as Egon pushed home. It felt insane. He felt like he was full to his throat. He wanted to spend and entire eon here in Egon’s arms.
Egon’s moans took a lower register however, as he braced one arm bracketing Alex’s head, hair flung widely out onto the pillow behind him. Alex’s arm flew up to claw at Egon’s nape.
It reminded him of how this started, Egon’s finger slowly drawing up and down his head.
Alex felt drunk. Egon felt powerful.
Egon could feel Alex's back arching as he pushed deeper and deeper, each movement making Egon feel more and more dominant, more and more in control of Alex. He could hear the other man growling and moaning with each thrust as it drove him close to his limit, but Egon couldn't stop himself, he wanted even more.
”Egon- Doctor- I’m so close” Alex breathed. His eyes were brimmed with tears as Egon pushed against a spot inside him that made him see stars. His hand gripped into Egon’s back further, and he was sure his nails were breaking skin as he dug into him and pulled him closer, kissing him harder, teeth biting lips and clacking into each other.
Egon's lips were still locked to his, his mouth moving even as his body shivered at the pressure from Alex's hand. He was on the verge of losing it completely, he needed this release more than anything right now because he had come so far. He'd be lying if he said his actions weren't a bit selfish, but no matter what his intentions were, his mind wasn't thinking like that right now, all he could think about was taking more and more.
“Egon.” Alex’s voice tumbled into a softer tone without even meaning to. “I thi-uh-” he made stupid little punched out noises with every movement. Egon gripped his hand that was on his back and pinned it to the pillows behind his head with his own. He felt just as hot as Alex, if not more so.
“I think- think I’m in-“ Alex gasped and made a long pathetic cry as Egon slowly moved and held his position against him. “ITHINKIMINLOVEWITHYOU-” Alex jumbled out in a moment of happiness and haze induced fog as Egon, the man of his dreams, the guy he’s wanted for so so long, holds him and kisses him and presses into him.
Egon shivered at that admission, his chest feeling as though it were being crushed from the sudden rush of emotions that came from Alex's words. He couldn't even think right now, he wasn't thinking of anything other than this moment, this man he had wanted for so long was in his arms telling him that he loved him. Egon squeezed the boy tighter as he finally released him from the pressure and finally allowed himself to just rest his weight on top of Alex, holding him close.
Alex felt Egon tense, and one of his large hands came to grip Alex’s lower half. He pulled, and a few strokes later Alex’s back bowed and his eyes rolled and he made an absolutely pathetic whimper as he folded.
He was Egon’s.
Egon shivered again, his jaw was clenched tight as he tried to get everything under control and stop his entire world from shaking. Now that he had Alex here, he wasn't going to let him go. He was only his, he was finally his and Egon had never felt this good before as he felt a rush of pride flow through him. He would have to wait to ask if it was just a heat-of-the-situation statement or if it was the real thing, but right now it didn't matter. All he could think of was that he had him.
Egon felt heavy on top of Alex as he laid there after the fact. Alex didn’t have the strength to move him. He really didn’t think he wanted to move him. He felt… warm and full and he really had never been happier. He had the man he loved in bed with him…shit, he had just made love to the man he loved. Alex felt like he may explode despite being so wrung out.
He could still feel Egon’s hands rubbing softly at his hips, even despite him being exhausted. Alex felt a different part of him warm, his heart. Even despite everything Egon was still thinking of him first.
Egon didn't try to move either, he felt so incredibly content just laying on top of Alex, his body pressed firmly against him. Egon's fingers were still tracing over his hips, he couldn't get enough of the boy beneath him. He'd never felt like this before, Alex had a hold on him he didn't think he would ever have over anyone, in this moment he had finally been taken by someone, he had finally been possessed and he wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep with Alex in his arms.
”Egon.” Alex whispered a few minutes after their breathing had calmed down. Egon had shifted slightly to get off of Alex’s chest.
“I love you.” Alex breathed as Egon played with his hair.
He felt Egon smile against his shoulder.
"I love you too."
Egon's reply was simple, but he meant it with all his heart as he shifted off of him, laying beside him now. He was so comfortable and so content with him, he wanted to hold him this way for the rest of his life and he honestly didn't want to be anywhere else right now. His arm snaked around and wrapped tightly around him as he brought him closer to himself, holding him close while his finger played with the hair at the back of his head.
Alex nuzzled into Egon’s neck. He shivered as the last of Egon pulled out.
“Do ya’ think we could sleep here?” Alex asked, already sleepy. Egon had tired him out, and he was still partially in that fuzzy state in between conscious and pliable.
Egon’s hand wrapped further around him. He was warm and still slightly tacky with sweat.
Egon shivered as he felt Alex nuzzle into him again, he couldn't help but give a soft chuckle when he heard his request to sleep together, he was already getting used to being Alex's pillow.
"Yes, I do."
He was tired too and he let himself drift off with his body pressed against Alex's, his arm keeping him close even when his eyes were starting to shut and his heart was trying to slow back down.
Alex fell asleep peacefully and quickly that night. It was nice. He felt completely comfortable for once. He had half the mind to pull his boxers and Egon’s shirt on before completely drifting off and forcing Egon to at least pull his boxers on as well.
-
He was glad he did, because somehow both of them forgot to set any sort of clock beside any bedside table, and by the time Venkman got to the firehouse the next day, they had just enough time to hear the door on the first floor open to be able to wake up and rush to get things ready.
Egon sat up slowly when he heard the firehouse door slam open from the lower floor. He looked around, seeing Alex pull on his boxers next to him.
He had to be dreaming still because Alex had spent the entire night with him. Egon was already slipping on pants by then and Alex was up as well.
They both looked half dressed but it was enough to not raise suspicions that they had been with each other. For all Peter knew, Egon had simply spent the night in the lab and Alex had had a particularly good date. They shuffled blearily into the kitchenette, and belatedly, Alex realized all of Egon’s work was still across the table. He hoped it could survive a night of no refrigeration, he would’ve hated to have ruined all of his hard work. He didn’t look worried, so Alex was not panicked just yet.
Instead, Egon headed to the kitchen and started pulling down some pancake mix and a bowl from a higher shelf than Alex couldn’t usually get to without going on his tip-toes, and grabbing a pan from under the sink.
Alex sat at the same chair he had been accosted in last night and watched intensely. Egon looked so domestic. He had to borrow extra sweats and an old college hoodie in his locker here since his clothes were ruined last night. He was lucky enough to have another work outfit in his locker. So he didn’t have the luxury of pretending like the two of them had truly spent a night together like a real couple.
Even though they did.
Finally.
Instead, he was already internally preparing to make up some story about someone else if Peter asked about his neck. Thankfully, Alex was smart enough to keep any marks he left on Egon where only he could see them.
Egon was focused on his cooking, he'd made pancakes here a few times before but he was determined to make this a good breakfast for Alex, now that they were actually official.
He was too focused on that to notice just how much Alex was staring at him, watching him like a predator would prey.
It was a nice feeling to know he had this kind of attention. He finally looked over at him though and smirked at the sight before going back to cooking.
Alex knew he had to tear his attention away before Venkman came up here and caught on to something. He was half worried that the place still reeked of sex.
He had quickly thrown the sheets of his and every other bed into the washer with the help of Egon, along with their clothes.
In all terms, nothing was left of evidence.
But Alex kinda wanted there to be.
He really, really liked Egon.
Watching him cook pancakes, for him and Alex, providing like this without being asked, warmed his heart a little bit and he had to catch himself before his brain took off with the thought and started imagining 10 years in the future, to mornings just like this, except maybe with a few little feet running around.
Egon was actually feeling warm at the looks Alex was giving him, it made him feel good that Alex was looking at him like this, that he could make this guy so happy. Egon didn't think of the future, he was just focused on this moment, on making these pancakes. Once he had the batter properly mixed he set the bowl down and pulled out the frying pan, beginning to heat it with grease.
Alex didn’t think anything could ruin his mood today.
That was, almost.
-
After Egon had finished his pancakes, they had both eaten just as Peter finally came upstairs to see them. Apparently he had stopped to check on the car before coming up, so they had more time than they thought.
They conversed casually, and sure enough, as Alex bit into another bite of his pancakes, he watched Peter eye his neck suspiciously.
“WHO gave you those things newsboy?” He asked, smirking.
Alex felt Egon’s leg tense against his, but he didn’t stop eating or show any other sign of being startled, so that was good.
“Just some girl from the bar…” Alex mumbled.
He didn’t know if Egon wanted to be open about it. He wished he had gotten to talk about it with him before everyone had shown up for work the next day. They had a scheduled go over of what they were going to do with the vault and its size soon.
But it was interrupted.
As soon as everyone had crowded around the breakfast nook upstairs, the alarms rang and Janine was yelling from downstairs about some high level poltergeist at the manhattan library. Suddenly, just as fast as they arrived, the boys had taken off in the van, all suited up.
Egon spared him a fleeting glance, and it was packed with a lot, before he had shuffled in and they had flipped the sirens on and pulled off.
Well.
He may as well get some work done for the rest of the day while they were gone.
-
Egon had caught an expression out of the corner of his eye from Peter and Alex's exchange that he didn't like, his jaw was clenching as they were interrupted, but there was no chance to dwell on it right now. He was more worried about Alex, hoping he wouldn't get into any kind of trouble from the lie he'd told. As Egon was going into the van he gave Alex a glimpse of a look that said 'I'll talk to you about it later' before being shut into the van with the rest of the team.
-
Alex had busied himself until the van had pulled up again late in the day.
It was a bad bust. At least a rough one.
There was a loud noise of the garage opening and the van pulled in with the boys in tow. They hoped out one by one.
Peter looked tired, already smoking. Ray was talking frantically to Winston who didn’t seem to be paying that much attention, talking about dinner. And finally, Egon folded himself out of the tight door and seemed to be almost…smoking.
Not, like. Attractive-ness wise.
Like, legitimately smoking.
As in on fire.
Alex rushed over to see what was wrong, but as he approached Egon simply held up the smoking ecto-trap, still steaming from a big catch. He smiled tiredly and looked down at Alex.
Egon looked exhausted and in need of a good shower at the moment, sweat and ash covered him and Alex couldn't find a clean spot on him if he tried. He was panting heavily the moment he made it out of the van since the last ghost they had encountered had been one hell of a fight. His eyes immediately locked with Alex's when he started running over towards him and his face lit up with that tired, sweet smile. He was grateful that the one person he actually wanted to see right now was there to see him.
Alex looked towards the rest of the boys. “Okay boys, beds are freshly made. Go shower and while you do that I’ll order your favorite Chinese takeout!” Alex declared and he could practically feel Egon melt under his touch on his back with his words.
With that, everyone scuddled off to busy themselves.
Egon's shoulders sagged the moment he heard that, his expression suddenly becoming much more relaxed and calm. As soon as the rest of the guys left the room he had wrapped his arms tightly around him again, burying his face down into the crook of his neck.
"I don't feel like you give yourself enough credit Alex, I'm always fed well here."
His words were tired and scratchy, but he was still smiling as he squeezed him tight.
Alex nuzzled back, only slightly bothered by the singed smell of his uniform. That would have to be fixed later.
“Go shower, big guy.” Alex shoved Egon gently off him and towards the showers with the rest of the guys. He wanted him to be clean and feeling good before he gave him a warm meal.
Egon reluctantly let himself be pushed away but he still made good use of the rest room as he stripped off his sweaty clothes and headed into the shower. It wasn't easy to wash the thick layer of sweat and ash from his skin this far in but he was able to at least get it to the point where he didn't smell like he'd been standing next to someone on fire. He got out of the shower after about 20 minutes and put on a clean set of clothes he had kept up here.
As he searched for clothes, he realized a sweater from earlier was missing. He’d have to ask Alex if he’d seen where it had gone, maybe in with the clothes that they ruined last night.
Egon smiled smugly at the thought.
And here everyone thought he had no game.
He shook his head.
It was more than that.
He really, really liked Alex. He felt connected to him, on a deeper level than he did with anybody else on the team. He wanted to come home to him after a long day of kicking ass and saving the world, knowing he was safe and happy.
Egon smiled at the thought happily as he appeared back in the kitchenette, empty save for you even though everyone else had gone off to shower before him.
Egon was content with this moment right now, he was home and he didn't have to worry about his team for a little while longer. And even if Alex was still going through his stuff, and stealing it to wear home, he didn't have any concerns.
"I'm back, how have you been holding up here?" He asked, walking into the kitchenette with a small, gentle smile as he leaned up against the counter. Egon just wanted to keep talking with Alex for a little while longer before they had to actually get busy with work things.
Alex opened one of 3 bags of Chinese food he had ordered while the rest of them were showering.
“I’m okay. That bust looked rough. Wanna’ talk about it?”
Alex asked, bumping his hip playfully against Egon’s in an attempt to keep the mood light even though he knew sometimes talking about scary or close-call busts made Egon get antsy.
Egon's face was still a little bit strained after the bust but he couldn't help but smile when he noticed Alex was trying to keep the mood light, Egon liked that part of him. He couldn't help but chuckle as Alex bumped his hip against him, he knew Alex was trying to help. When the topic of the bust came up, Egon tried to dismiss it.
"Oh it was nothing, the ghost was just a bit stronger than expected but it turned out fine. Don't worry about it."
Alex could tell he was dodging him, but he wasn’t going to push. Egon would come to him when he was ready.
Or, he maybe he could take out his stress with busts a different way now.
Either way, Alex didn’t mind for now.
Presently, he focused on getting the food out of the bags and cleaning Egon’s makeshift science lab off the and onto the counter.
Alex was glad. It looked like they had all survived the night and were doing fine. Egon didn’t seem fussed with him moving them either. Just watched, enraptured, leaning over the rest of the kitchen with arms folded as Alex moved methodically.
Egon's eyes kept on moving from his food to Alex and back again, that sweet smile never leaving his face as he admired the way he went about his work. Egon's stomach was rumbling now that that sweet smell was filling the kitchenette, the smell of the fresh food just making his stomach growl. His hand reached out to try and grab a piece of the food but each time he reached his hand out he stopped himself, not wanting to eat until Alex had a chance to eat something too.
Alex playfully batted at his hand. “Let me grab the others, they went to grab beers from the basement freezer.”
Alex swung himself quickly around the fire pole a few yards away and Egon watched him quickly drop out of view rolling his eyes.
Always dramatic.
Alex was the one that used that silly pole the most despite only being a desk jockey and a PR Princess for the team.
Egon chuckled a little bit as he watched Alex take the fire pole, as much as he thought it was a bit much he was more impressed that Alex could actually pull it off. Egon got too lost in his own thoughts to notice that Alex had left until he was back in just a minute or two with the other guys in tow.
Alex bounded up the stairs and gleefully placed a cold 6 pack down in the center. Janine was even in tow behind the rest of the guys.
Egon smiled gently. It was perfect. All his favorite people.
Alex brushed up against him, smiling with a specific warmth meant only for him.
He clapped his hands together happily. “Okay guys!” He addressed everyone and gestured to the wide spread of Chinese food in the center of the table, with the beer as the centerpiece. “Dig in!”
Egon felt like something had suddenly and unexpectedly popped into place in his life. Like something was just ever so slightly out of alignment, and in this particular moment it all became very, blindingly clear.
It was all perfect.
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
Final notes: woah!! Okay so that was a long story sorry everyone I have brainrot. Not responsible for my own actions but honestly we need more good ftm shit on this website so I took it upon myself. Hope everyone enjoyed but look out for more stuff soon because I finally feel like actually writing yayyyy :333
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carrinth-nsr · 8 months
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Okay as much as I love the idea of each of the 1010 boys being sentient and having seperate personalities, it does raise a question.
Have any of them ever had an existential crisis about the fact that they can be replaced? Like, if one of them gets destroyed the flying factory can just pop out a complete copy?
Like, the flying factory just pops out another 1010 bot right IN FRONT OF THEM during the battle with BBj, and they have no reaction to it, so they have to have been aware at least some time PRIOR to the fight.
Do they EVER think about this????
Like do they ever have some kind of existential monologue?
https://youtu.be/MUUJIRes_yo
LOL I will be the first to admit that I'm totally guilty of over-indulging in fanon 1010. I too really like the idea of robots gaining ✨emotions and feelings✨ and questioning their value and self-worth! The drama~! The angst~! Are they merely tools to be so easily discarded and replaced or something moar?? 👀 It's such good stuff that it's actually the core story idea behind another comic I'm working on! (ppl might have seen my wips of "Repair Work"?)
But fan self-indulgence aside, in canon, 1010 actually seem very... nonchalant about being destroyed...? I mean, this was their idiotic (affectionate) reaction to being Shakalaka-Bammed by B2J:
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Poor Neon J seems like the only one concerned. (Aww, he's shielding them, so sweet 🤗) It's almost like 1010 can't even *comprehend* the concept of death. Are they simply not that sentient? Or do they not worry because they can be easily rebuilt by the factory? Perhaps their robot bodies are merely wireless avatars they operate remotely while 1010's actual central processing server (aka consciousness) is stored somewhere safe like Barraca Mansion.
It would explain how quickly they fall back in sync even after being destroyed and how callously Neon J blows up their bodies during his Phase 3 fight. Because the body is just a shell and their actual processor is somewhere else? But that's just my fan theory.
I mean, at the end of day, 1010 is obviously a play on the whole 'idol churning machine' and the 'inherent fakeness and artificialness of performers' etc... etc...
And let's be honest: At face value, they don't seem as emotionally complex as us fans make them out to be.
SO IS IT ALL IN OUR HEADS? DO IDOL-ROBO-BOYBAND NOT FEEL???
Well. Hmm. They do seem rather *ahem* robotic when they fought against B2J and showed no indication they had individual personalities.
....Except for one last image in the end credits:
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If (unfeeling machine) then why { 1010.action = read fan mail + get excited; subroutine(1010_green.getMail == 0) run (1010_green.action = sad;) }
I guess if we're to take a more nuanced middle-ground, 1010 probably doesn't suffer from as much emotional distress as we love to portray in fanfic (BUT THAT'S WHAT MAKES IT INTERESTING DAMMIT) however, they do show some degree of sentience and differing personality based on that End Credit image. 😎
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crucian-tador · 1 year
Text
(disclaimer: I don't claim to be is as a canon)
I just want to mention a couple of things that I noticed again and again reviewing the series with the mention of Fizzarolli (in the very big hope of seeing him soon in future series)
ahem
so
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🤡 1. I think Fizz is passionate about child dreams and the stage and for this reason seems to me quite kind and sweet
he always liked to perform in front of an audience
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his images flash on CHILDREN's cereals
his one of the very first robots (below I will explain why one of the first) is located in Loo Loo land
in the trailer for the second season, Fizz looks with admiration at something around, while he himself is in a clown costume, perhaps they came somewhere with Blitz, and Fizzy was happy about it
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+ he often makes some random funny sounds or makes comical movements
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🤡 2. Another thing to the fact that Fizzarolli seems to me quite cute: he is against blood and violence (that's why he probably doesn't like pirates)
and also in the scene with Asmodeus and M&M, even though they hit Fizz, A&F themselves didn't harm them at all
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🤡 3. About the robot from Loo Loo land and why it seems to me that he was one of the first models created
this ROBOT (not Fizzarolli) is remembered by little Via, and this was definitely more than 10 years ago
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the robot often glitchs and lags, hinting at its age and that it has not been replaced for a loooong time (also he is cheap ofcourse)
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Blitz also remembers this robofizz, because he managed to work with it
and in turn the robot remembers who Blitzo is
I don't think they all have it in their memory from the beginning to remember who the Blitz is
plus we already know that Fizzarolli himself couldn't have been behind the control of this robot because they don't know who destroyed Loo Loo land
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🤡 4. From all this, it probably follows that Blitz and Fizz worked together until some point, then Fizzarolli went further up the career ladder, they made one of the first robofizzes in his image and put this machine next to Blitz to work, because we all know
Blitzo to put it mildly is terrible on stage
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«cheap ass robo rip-off of an overrated sell-out jester»
🤡 5. Maybe Blitz lasted so long in the circus sphere because Fizz didn't want to fire him and gave him a job (and in fact still a dream that Blitz told Stolas about)
🤡 6. Why did a child's dreamer appear in the products of an adult audience?
perhaps this is because Fizz met Asmodeus and the king has already found another application for robots like this
well, on the other hand, why should these goods go to waste
+ clearly more money for Mammon
🤡 7. As we can see, Fizz supports Asmodeus, but does Ozzi support him?
yes, because Fizzarolli is literally the only one in the whole sex club that doesn't look "sexy" and wears a clown costume completely covering his body
in what other sex institution will you see a presenter in a jester costume? So Ozzy lets him have it all
you will say that this is for recognizing the mascot image, but what would prevent Asmodeus from making an even sexier clown robot?
because Fizz himself doesn't want all this and Ozzy respects his opinion
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thank you for reading my little theories, I hope you will like them♥️
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