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otonymous · 4 years

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Glutton For Your Flavour (Obey Me: Beelzebub - NSFW)

Description: You’re about to become Beel’s next meal Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised. Spoilers for Lesson 5 of MS (hard). Please note potential trigger warnings: dub-con (as an inadvertent result of somnambulism), cunnilingus in two flavours (soft and rough), squirting and overstimulation, slight size kink, very faint hints of tetraphilia, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it blasphemy, slight fear (monstrous descriptions) Word Count: ~2900 words (~14 mins of smut & shenanigans) Author’s Notes: My very first fic for the Obey Me fandom! I know I’m late to the party, but I’ve recently started playing this game and the story and its characters are so amusing I had to write about it. This piece may not be to everyone’s taste, so please, please, please note the potential trigger warnings listed above and skip if it’s not your cup of tea. That being said, hope you all enjoy the read! 💕😆

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“Bad luck to be sharing a room with Beel, but what can ya do after he destroyed yours while destroying the kitchen, and all for a dumb custard! Be careful — he might mistake you for a snack and eat ya in the middle of the night, hahaha!”

Mmm.

The scene fragments, Mammon’s face wavering as his voice grows faint, consciousness seeping into dark corners like sunlight cutting through fog. And when you open your eyes, you can’t quite place where you are for a moment, straddling the line between dreamscape and reality.

Ahh…

You sigh. There it was again, the sensation so pleasant it had roused you from the deepest slumber.

Further blinking off the haze of sleep, you take in your surroundings: a large bed lying empty across from yours in a room almost cavernous in size and just as dark save for a candle burning low on a desk, the glow of its flame orange like the hair that was currently brushing soft against your inner thighs—

“BEEL?! WHAT THE HELL?!”

“So tasty…not…enough…need more…want to…eat…zzz….”

Eyes still closed, the demon’s face is shiny even in the dark, slick from cheek to chin with what must’ve been a copious amount of his saliva and your arousal, you blush to realize. And when he doesn’t budge even after a swift kick to the face, you are ashamed to find the Lord of Flies’ show of strength sending yet another throb to your already pulsing clit.

He does wake though, Beelzebub’s amethyst eyes opening wide before he falls backwards onto the cold stone floor to realize what he had inadvertently done in his sleep. And as the always-famished sixth born looks from the shredded remnants of your panties to the pool of wetness on the sheets where his chin had rested, he becomes even more tongue-tied than usual.

“I…uh…I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…I dreamt I smelled something delicious and I was so hungry…and somehow I’m here, on the floor…I don’t even know…I-I’m so sorry!”

His cheeks grow so flushed they remind you of the red spider sandwiches he packed away during dinner, stuffing them two by two into his mouth until Satan smacked his hand away for trying to take more from his plate. The expression on his face is so full of remorse that even if you were angry, you’d be inclined to forgive the demon who was currently grovelling at the foot of your bed, swearing he would hand himself over to Lucifer and Diavolo first thing in the morning to be strung up and hung upside down for a fortnight, even (gulp) forgoing food for a day or two.

“Beelzebub…Beel…BEEL!” You shout, interrupting his self-inflicted tirade. “It’s okay, you didn’t mean it. You were sleepwalking. You don’t have to go to Lucifer and Diavolo about this.”

“No, I have to. My behaviour was inexcusable—”

“BEEL! Let’s…just…try to go back to sleep, okay? We have our midterm in Devildom law tomorrow morning and I really don’t feel like failing just because I didn’t get enough shut eye. So please, can we just pretend like this didn’t happen?”

Those orange brows are still furrowed when Beel finally lifts his head and nods. But then his gaze is falling again on the wet sheets and the shiver than runs through that larger-than-life body seems to send another wave of anxiety through the demon. He makes a mad dash for the door, murmuring something about getting a snack from the kitchen and “you can have the room tonight” before it slams shut behind him.

He doesn’t return for the rest of the night.

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The exam was so disastrous even Mammon didn’t bother sneaking another peek at your paper after the first two questions. And even if you had somehow managed to get back to sleep after last night’s ordeal, it wouldn’t have changed the fact that you were still distracted by the memory of Beel’s mouth on your pussy:

His long tongue, serpentine as it delved deep between swollen folds to taste you with gusto.

The way he rolled your clit between those plush, soft lips before sucking it into his hot mouth, over and over again.

The throbbing between your legs that refused to cease long after the Avatar of Gluttony had left the room you were temporarily sharing, sleep only forthcoming once you had succumbed and reached beneath the sheets to finish the job he had started, your moans licentious even to your ears as you pretended your fingers were his.

It was a pale imitation, of course. That much you could see for yourself, stealing a glance at Beel seated two rows down — quill twirling between long, dexterous digits when he wasn’t putting ink to parchment.

But those gigantic hands were just a small part of what made Beel demonically attractive, as if the word “small” could be applied to him at all: tall and built, there were times when even you envied the ease with which he maintained that perfect physique despite his penchant for shovelling enough food to feed all three realms into his mouth on the regular.

The same mouth which brought you so much pleasure the night before.

Ahem.

Clearing your throat, you pretend not to see the smirk that spreads across Asmo’s delicate face, hoping the lusty demon sitting just to your left wouldn’t pick up on the very secret thoughts you were having about his brother.

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[Private Chatroom]: Satan, Levi, Mammon, Asmo

Satan: This is going to sound crazy, but doesn’t it seem like Beel’s…hungrier than usual? Is that even possible?

Levi: OMFG! You should’ve seen the state of the kitchen this morning after Beel decided to camp out there overnight! It was a total war zone, like that epic battle scene in Vol. 5 of TSL lololol. Soooo good XDDDDD

Mammon: Hey! He’s gonna eat us outta house and home at this rate! Shouldn’t we stop him?

Satan: You do it, Mammon. Aren’t you always saying that there’s nothing The Great Mammon can’t do?

Mammon: …..

Asmo: Please, as if anyone — angel or demon — could come between Beel and a meal.

Satan: Why was he camping out there in the first place? Was there something wrong with his room? I don’t remember him complaining about anything since he got shacked up with the exchange student.

Levi: Not like he could, seeing as it was his fault to begin with and a direct order from Lucifer.

Asmo: Maybe we should ask her. I’m sure she knows something about what’s inciting his hunger judging by the way she kept staring at him in class today fufufu 😏 She almost failed her midterm because of it, isn’t that right, Mammon?

Mammon: ‼️‼️

[Mammon has left the chat]

Levi: He is sooooo transparent LMFAOOOO

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Gasp!

Pressing a hand to your mouth, you try to contain your shock at the sight that greets you when you peek around the corner into the kitchen:

Curved, ebony horns sitting majestically atop a head of disheveled orange hair. Thick, corded muscles that ripple across a broad back — readily apparently because the creature bent over a mountain of food on the ground was wearing nothing but a pair of pyjama bottoms, loose and slung so low over narrow hips that the sharp V defining his groin is visible even from the distance at which you stood.

Because this wasn’t quite what you were expecting to find when you made your way to the kitchen in the middle of the night to search for Beel, thinking to approach him about the peculiarity of his recent behaviour: the way he now ate constantly and was less satiated than before, the fact that he seemed to be going out of his way to avoid you even though you shared a room.

In fact, he hadn’t said so much as another word to you after he gave you two dozen of his prized custards the morning after the incident, apologizing again until you had to be the one to make him swear he wouldn’t breathe a word of it to Lucifer. The demon even made a beeline for the door as soon as he saw you emerge from the bathroom tonight, fresh from a shower.

It wasn’t hard to guess where he was headed.

Even still, you tried to focus on your textbook, reading the same line over and over again as you waited for Beel to return so you could have a proper conversation with the demon you made a pact with. And when you could wait no longer, you made your way towards his favourite room in the House of Lamentation — silently, so as not to draw the attention of the eldest sibling.

But the growls coming from the direction of the open fridge this time sounded like Cerberus himself, enough so that you find yourself rooted to the ground, unable to take another step forwards or back.

You had never seen Beel like this before, tearing into whatever he could get his hands on with a savagery that made your heart stop. Teeth, lips and tongue devoured without second thought in a way that was simultaneously terrifying and…

Throb.

…arousing.

Suddenly, he stills, throwing his head back to sniff the air once…twice…and in a flash, he is upon you, towering over your head as he rises to full height — bigger and taller and much more intimidating than you’ve ever seen him before.

You should have been scared. Any person in their right mind would have if they found themselves cornered by a demon of Beelzebub’s calibre. But the hands that balled into trembling fists at his sides made you feel oddly secure, your deepest instincts telling you that not all was as it seemed.

“You need to leave. Now…please.”

“What’s going on with you, Beel? I just want to help—” You reach for his arm. He jumps back as if burned.

“I SAID YOU NEED TO LEAVE! I-I…can’t hold back…for…much longer!”

Handsome face screwed up as if in pain, Beel turns to put as much distance as possible between the two of you, squatting on his haunches with his head in his hands when he murmurs:

“I…I don’t know what’s going on with me. This has never happened before. I’m hungrier than I’ve ever been. I eat and eat and eat and it still isn't enough. The last time I felt satisfied was when…when…”

His voice dies down to a whisper.

“…when I tasted you.”

Throb.

Putting out a hand, you steady yourself against the wall, knees suddenly weak at Beelzebub’s admission. Or perhaps it was due to relief, the tension that had been steadily building in your strained relationship with the demon released to know that you weren’t the only one who desired to revisit that night’s events.

So you gather your courage, stepping softly towards the demon who crouched on the ground next to the lit fireplace, the heat radiating from the hearth warming the flesh you had deliberately left bare when you lift the hem of your night gown to expose yourself to Beel.

“What are you doing?! I told you, I can barely hold back—”

“Then don’t. I don’t mind, Beel. I…I like it too.”

Amethyst eyes darken as they look up into yours, orange flames reflecting off pupils blown wide. And when he speaks next, the deepness of his voice echoes in your body, as if its source were to be found within your own soul.

“Ask and ye shall receive. I won’t touch you until you do.”

Nipples hardening beneath your gown, the rush of heat that floods your core makes you shudder when you say,

“Please, Beelzebub…I want you to eat my pussy.”

Back hitting solid wood, you barely have time to gasp before you are pulled to the edge of a long table in the centre of the kitchen, a long tongue running up the insides of each thigh in turn before they’re propped up onto broad shoulders, Beel’s breath blowing hot on the space in between.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can hold back. I’m just…so famished, so desperate to taste you again—”

His words cut off in a low growl as he presses his lips to your folds, saliva dripping from his mouth mixing with the juices that already painted a glistening sheen on pink flesh. You fight to bite back a moan at the vehemence of his hunger, the sheer greed of his tongue — flicking at your clit until your back arched off the table, heralding the arrival of the cream that leaked only to be swept up by Beel licking from end to end of that swollen seam. And when that still wasn’t enough, you nearly swooned to feel that serpentine tongue penetrate, reaching depths that surely only a demon would be able to achieve as Beel sought out more of your flavour.

He buries his face deeper into your pussy, nose nudging your clit as arousal smeared over the entirely of his visage. The vibrations of his voice further stimulates your locus of pleasure, punctuating the lewd, wet sounds when he says:

“You smell so delicious. All the time. And tonight, when you stepped out of the shower…I couldn’t take it, not with the way your scent flooded my senses. I had to leave or else…this would happen.”

“Oh Beel…you should’ve told me sooner.”

Mind lost in a haze of lust and body boneless from riding out wave after climatic wave, you reach down a trembling hand without thinking, fingers innocently tracing along the smooth ridges of the onyx horns that lay against your abdomen.

Suddenly, his breath hitches at your touch and the Sixth Prince of Hell is throwing his head back, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open in a moan loud and deep enough to reverberate off stone walls, clattering stacks of dishes in cupboards and making you come once more — legs convulsing upon his shoulders as you feel a preponderance of fluid gush forth from your body right into Beel’s waiting mouth.

The pleasure was such that you’ve never known before, so good that surely, it must be bad in some way, shape or form. But you hadn’t the energy to ponder further.

No, the only thing you’re aware of when your vision goes black is that Beel’s mouth is still on you, feasting upon a pussy that continued to respond to the teasing movements of his lips and tongue even as you ceased to think.

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Cheddar. Pickles. Ketchup and mustard.

The smell is what rouses you, but nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw when you awoke in your own bed: mountains of cheeseburgers arranged on platters filling up every available surface in the room you shared with Beel.

“You can sleep for longer if you want. I told Lucifer you’d be skipping class today because you’re not feeling well. Are you…feeling well?”

Beelzebub lifts his head from where it’d been resting at the side of your bed, the rest of his body laid out on the floor as if he were guarding you like an oversized dog. Those puppy dog eyes, full of concern, didn’t help his case either.

“I’m fine, Beel. Better than fine, actually. I feel fantastic!” You smile, moving to sit up in bed. The demon springs from the ground, putting an arm around your shoulders to help prop you up, and your heart can’t help but warm at how protective he was being.

He breathes, relief flooding those handsome features. “I’m glad. I was afraid I lost control last night and had to carry you back. You were just…so tasty and…satisfying…”

Those amethyst eyes glint as they travel to the apex of your thighs, and all of a sudden, he is grabbing at those human world cheeseburgers, shoving them into his mouth two at a time.

“Have some,” he says between bites. “They’re my favourite and I thought you might like them too. Besides, you need to eat if you’re gonna keep up your energy.”

You reach towards the nearest platter, taking one for yourself. “Energy for what?”

Beel looks at you, expression completely serious when he says, “For the next round tonight.”

Throb.

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Thank you so much for reading! Check out more of my work here! 📚

#obey me #shall we date obey me #OM #swd obey me #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #OM beel #obey me smut #OM smut #obey me beel smut #obey me fanfic #fanfiction #my writing

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gentlemancrow · 3 years

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14: “I’m screwed” shippy JMart :) 💚

Ehehe this one got away from me a little bit! But ask for shippy Jmart get a gushy mooshy Crow! Please enjoy! ; w ;

“I’m screwed…”

Martin watched helplessly through the slats of the yellowed blinds on Jon’s office window as his entire life went up in flames. He dimly recalled some trite old saying about seeing one’s life flash before one’s eyes before the moment of unceremonious besmirching from the cruel mortal coil, but for him it was more of a hysterical repeated rewinding of every single bumbling misstep that had orchestrated his imminent demise.

From the moment he decided he had just enough time before work to pop into the Tesco for the usual bouquet of flowers for his visit to his mother later in the day, to the snap decision to get the one made of tulips, bright crimson, orange, and yellow like a flame, rather than the usual white lilies, all the way up to entering the institute, Elias stuffing a file for Jon in his already laden arms, and then the chaos that had erupted as he attempted to deliver it, he lived it all over again. First there was something about the kettle being on the fritz, and obviously since he used it the most frequently, clearly he knew how to repair errant electronic kitchen devices. He was halfway through chastising Tim for false equivalencies in his logic when Sasha had breezed past and asked for a report he’d supposed to be finished with the day prior, and somewhere in the snarking with Tim and the flailing over his dereliction of duty the flowers had been abandoned on Jon’s desk and the file tucked under his arm instead.

By the time Martin realized he was missing something bulky and crinkly and fragrant it was too late. Jon was already in his office, tatty messenger bag still looped around his chest, forgotten, staring at the fiery bouquet on his desk with the scientific method scrolling visibly through his pupils as he regarded it like a corpse on an autopsy table, hand in a fist with his thumb pressed to his lips. Martin had never wished harder for some sort of horrific creature of the darkness to strike the institute again and just devour him whole this time to put him out of his misery.

“You’re what, mate?” Tim’s adjacent query only intensified that desire.

“Tim! SHUSH!” he squeaked, grabbing his friend by the shoulders and hauling him out of the line of sight from the office window.

“Easy there, big guy!” he laughed, “What’s all the hullabaloo?”

“I’m SCREWED. Big time,” Martin moaned, burying his face, which had been bright scarlet since the moment his hubris had roosted, into his hands, “See those flowers in there? I bought those for my usual trip to see my mum this afternoon but somehow between you being an idiot and me also being an idiot and forgetting to finish that report I sort of… left them there… by accident…”

Jon, meanwhile, had finally set his bag down and had circled his desk like a vulture. He reached out with delicate fingers like forceps and pinched the very edge of the card to inspect it, which, unfortunately, only added to the mystery with its coquettish blankness, as Martin had yet to fill it in. Tim watched, nonplussed.

“So? What’s the big deal about that? Just go explain it to him and I’m sure he… Oh. OH,” he cackled as realization dawned on him, “Yeah, nope you’re screwed.”

“Thanks…”

“Ahh, don’t sweat it. The man’s so thick I’m sure he thinks it’s just a prank or some continued spooky attempt on his life or something. The absolute last thing he would think would be that you of all people would…” Tim stopped himself in the withering blue glare blazing at him from behind round spectacles, “Anyway, again, this is Jon we’re talking about. He’ll just treat it like some weird cosmic mystery until he burns himself out on it or the next one shows up.”

“Y-Yeah but-“

“Just go explain! Unless you want to watch him wriggle about it like a fish on a hook all day. Which I am diametrically unopposed to, by the way, sounds absolutely hilarious.”

Martin winced, hating the idea of being the missing chunk of code that caused Jon’s brain to glitch for the remainder of the day, and sucked in a breath between his teeth.

“No, no you’re right,” he sighed, “Just… no flowers at my funeral if he kills me, okay?”

“Kate Bush songs only, got it, yep.”

Martin rolled his eyes, not dignifying that with a response, and shuffled on mechanical feet to the closed door of Jon’s office. He rapped lightly a few times before pushing his way in, smiling sheepishly at the head archivist who had clearly just unceremoniously flung himself in front of the mysterious bouquet to hide it from view.

“Martin!” he barked, “What in the hell are you-“

“Uh, just needed to talk to you for a second.”

He closed the door behind him

“Oh, uh… about wh-“

“About those, actually,” Martin confessed through his teeth, pointing, mortified, at the coy spray of flaming tulips peeking out from behind Jon’s hip.

He whipped around to look at them, then back to his assistant, then back to the flowers again, the blush that only ever seemed to find the tips of his ears glowing like two carmine rosebuds there.

“…You?”

That unreadable earthy brown gaze, somewhere between wilting regency heroine and venomous snake ready to strike with fangs bared, harpooned Martin directly to the heart.

“No! God no! S-Sorry!” he yelped, flailing his hands defensively in the air, “I-I mean they are mine, yes, b-but I-! Th-They’re for my mum! I-I try to visit her in her care home if I can on Fridays, and I always bring her some flowers! I was supposed to be dropping off a file for you, but then Tim was hounding me about the broken kettle and Sasha needed that damned report and I was all mixed up and I… I forgot them here. On your desk. Your desk of all places. I still have the file and um… T-Trade you? Hah…”

Jon’s finely sculpted brow shifted from pinched, to bemused, to a strange, sorrowful relief as Martin finished lamely in falsetto and he chuckled under his breath.

“Ah… right. Right! I thought for a second someone might have um…” he snorted breathlessly, “Hah, I knew that was a preposterous notion.”

The metaphysical harpoon still in Martin’s chest shattered in icy shards of anguish as his heart collapsed under the weight of itself.

“Wh- Jon, is it really that preposterous a notion someone might want to bring you flowers?” he asked, crushed.

Jon flourished a flippant, elegant hand.

“Come on Martin, this is me we’re talking about. I’ve never gotten flowers once in my life. I’m not the kind of person people think to buy flowers for. It’s not a big deal.”

“Well then let me be the first!” Martin insisted, his mouth and heart moving in tandem before his brain could stop them.

Jon’s brow creased again.

“What? Good lord no, I’m not going to take the flowers you bought for your mother. Who is also in a care home, mind.”

“I’d much rather give them to you.”

The skeptical expression marring Jon’s face did little to hide the blush flourishing at the tips of his ears again.

“Look. We’re friends now, aren’t we?” Martin elaborated shyly, “Friends can send each other flowers. And honestly? My mum doesn’t even like them… no matter what kind I bring. They usually end up being for her nurse instead. So I… I think they’ll have a much better home with you.”

A tiny smile quirked the corner of Jon’s mouth, snipping an invisible thread that softened his entire face into something innocent and full of wonder.

“I see. If you’re sure, I suppose I could…”

“I’m very sure,” Martin replied without hesitation, “Just tell people an old friend sent them out of the blue, or you have a secret admirer or something!”

“Well I don’t know about all that, but-” Jon chuckled, smiling softly, “Thank you. Just the same.”

Martin looked up, just for a moment, and met Jon’s gaze, letting the piercing erudite wood of it lay bare his fluttering heart.

“You’re welcome…”

Jon shifted in the beat of ensuing silence, his eyes flicking away from sky blue radiance to shift his shoulders back into a professional square.

“You uh, said you had a file for me?”

“Oh! Yes! Right! I-I will go fetch that file for you indeed and uh-! Oh yeah! Make sure you snip off the ends of the stems a bit before you put them in water. Helps them last longer,” Martin offered, snapping out of his enchantment and already slinking backwards to the door, “Oh and also! When they start to go, I’ll show you how to press one in a book, so you can keep it, if you like!”

“I’d like that very much, actually.”

Martin smiled, nodded, and saluted awkwardly as he escaped Jon’s office and closed the door behind, leaving him in private to wait until he was sure no one would see. Once he was certain, he preciously gathered the tulips into his hands and brought them to his nose, breathing in the field bright scent of his very first bouquet from a secret admirer.

#the magnus archives #TMA #JonMartin #Jmart #jonathan sims #Martin Blackwood #crow writes #Ask drabble #Bowtiesandfireflies #A red tulip means a confession of love hurrhurr

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bloody-vino · 3 years

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Reiner x Fem!reader NSFW

Reiner and you have been dating for over a year now, and your 18th birthday is coming up. He's always wanted to make this one special and decided maybe getting intimate with each other might be the best idea. He goes around asking for tips from Bertholdt, Porco and even Zeke as they are more experienced. Losing virginities was never a joke for this man, he knows its a big occasion. Reiner even awkwardly approached Annie and Pieck about this topic to understand more about female pleasure. After collecting all the information he feels somewhat confident in how and what to do and gets down to preparations.

Your 18th birthday party is held in a small booked Air bnb with a huge cake and balloons everywhere. All your friends attended, his too, everyone was chatting around except Reiner. He stands alone, close to you and mildly sweating from the anxiety of knowing he needs to have sex later. Once the party is over at about 10pm everyone begins to leave and Reiner personally bids everyone a goodbye trying his best to hide the nerves. You are completely unaware of this plan of his and begin packing up as well, after all you had a curfew and your parents were extremely strict. Reiner sees you leaving and hurriedly blocks the entrance with his body. You are surprised by this action, you look into his eyes and take a step back not understanding the situation. Reiner takes a step towards you and asks you to stay back for just 2 hours more. You dont see at a problem after all you are 18 and allowed to take atleast some liberties. You give in to him entirely and wait for instructions still not entirely sure about what is about to happen. Reiner holds your hand and slowly brings you to the master bedroom of the apartment, which he had taken the pains to properly clean, arranged a towel, he even made the bed properly and got an extra pair of clothes. Finally you got a grasp of the upcoming events and your heart suddenly starts beating fast.

Standing at the foot of the bed facing each other, Reiner takes his hands and places them on your shoulders. Slowly sliding them to your back and pulling the zipper of your dress down, he then pulls it off as it drops to your ankles. You are now exposed to him only in your bra and panties. Reiner takes a step back to take in the view, his erection clearly visible through his pants. He instantly realises this action may make you feel extremely vulnerable so he quickly looks into your eyes and no where else. He unbuttons his own shirt and takes it off, he's still unsure about your reaction so he pauses before taking off his pants. He uses his hands to carress your curves and then firmly placing his hands on your ass pulling you closer to his bare chest. He feels your stomach and cleavage push against him. He asks you "Are you okay with this?", youre already in ecstasy you manage to moan out a very very soft "yes". He asks you to lay down on the bed, but before you do, you take off your undergarments stripping down to nothing. You lay on your back and he can see every inch of you. He cant take his eyes off your beautiful vagina, its all so new to him. The wind is blowing through the open windows and you have the view of the whole city from the 50th floor apartment. He unbuttons his black pants and takes them off along with his briefs, keeping them on the side. You are looking at his penis while laying down, you feel so wet. Being inexperienced in sex you are not sure how its going to happen or what that tingly sensation in your clit is. Reiner gets on the bed and is now above you and between your legs. More than his dick your are marvelling his huge stature, his muscles are so strong and his chest so sculpted against your body. He has blonde hair leading from his belly button down to his blonde pubes, which are glowing golden from the city lights reflecting onto your bodies. This man is so handsome and hes so close to you.

Reiner holds his pink tip against your entrance and whispers in your ear "I am going to enter tell me if you feel uncomfortable, i promise i'll instantly stop". You look at him and nod a yes with a furrow on your brows out of fear. He begins kissing you and pushing his dick slowly inside you, your vagina clenches out of fear. It begins to hurt a bit as if a knife is jabbing through your hole. You let out a painful wail and Reiner freezes in position. He looks down at you worriedly, "Is everything okay? what happened? im so sorry." You have tears in your eyes and seem very unsure. He realises you need preparation something he had read about earlier. Reiner uses one finger and slowly massages your clit, making you feel very heated, you vagina starts feeling more relaxed, as he continues rubbing and your walls are aching for something to be inserted. After a few moments you feel like a huge build up but Reiner doesnt let you orgasm, instead he slowly slides his thick hard cock through your now swollen pussy lips. You hold the back of his shoulders and gently push your hips inwards towards his, trying to take his size. He takes it as reafirmation to continue, he adjusts his pace and slows down for you to take charge. You never did this before so your vaginal walls were mildly hurting during sex. Once Reiner was inside you all the way to his base, you could feel his balls against you, he instantly feels a jolt of pleasure in his chest. He slides his hand to your lower back between you and the bed. Using his hand to adjust your hips at the perfect angle for him to thrust in and out. He finally starts moving his hips very slowly, causing him to grunt loudly. For some reason hearing him like this caused you to feel warm butterflies rise up in your chest. You slid down your hands from his shoulders to his hips, giving a slight shy nudge indicating him consent to go faster. Reiner instantly started thrusting faster and the pounding sound echoed through the apartment. You both were already breathing heavy but as he caught speed you let out loud moans. Your breasts bounce up and down as Reiner thrusts, he cant take his eyes off them, he leans in to lick your nipples and suck on them while he repeatedly fucks you.

As a few minutes passed Reiner had his eyes closed while pounding focusing all his energy on not orgasming because of your tight wetness. Between thrusts and moans you noticed this and cupped his face, he opened his eyes and caught yours. His speed decreasing and now with soft movements of his cock going in and out, he leans in to kiss your lips, making out while slowly taking you to the brink. After a bit when he felt the muscles in his thighs tighten and the sensitivity of the tip of his cock increased he pulled his lips away and held your legs up to his shoulders in missionary postition. He thrusted hard and fast, pulling out his whole 8 inches dick and thrusting it back in all the way to the base. His balls heavily clapping against you. As his feeling got more intense he was on top of you with your legs on his shoulders, you were folded beneath him, his face again close to you. He was sweating and his blonde hair now long and messy over his forehead. His grip so tight on your thighs that now it was turning red, you were also reaching your peak "Reiner ahh, p-please, just like that". A few more sloppy fast thrusts and Reiner pushed himself inside you as much as he could, to release his hot semen. You let out a huge gasp and the intense contraction in your thighs and lower abdomen moved to your vaginal walls and suddenly your body aching to burst, you orgasmed.

Reiner finally let go of your thighs and collapsed on top of you. You could feel the entirety of his sweaty body against yours. Your breasts pressing against him again, you could feel his now semi hard cock against the inside of your thigh as it spilt out of your hole. You used your hand to carress his hair back from his forehead, they were slicked back with sweat now. He managed to muster the strength to sit up and give you kisses on your cheeks and lips "Thank you, thank you so much for letting me close to you and your beautiful body. I love you" You kissed him back on his lips and the tip of his nose "Reiner that was amazing, you were the best present i could have recieved on my birthday". With this Reiner got up and scooped you over his shoulder and into the bathroom to wash up.

This man was prepared. The bathroom was decorated with candles, rose petals and lavender incense. He switched on the hot water and you both stood under the running water naked. Your hands against his chest and his on your waist. The water ran down cooling you both down from the heated sex, he slowly kissed your forehead and took some body wash and massaged your body, as if to relieve the tension and ache from having sex for the first time. You reached out for the body wash and massaged his back and hard chest too, you just wanted to feel him once again, you craved touching his body again and again. He held you close and both of you acheing to make out and fuck in the shower again, but time was limiting and your vagina still sore from accomodating his length. Once the water washed the soap away you both dried up with a towel, but before you wore your clothes Reiner whipped out a tube and asked you to lay down with legs spread. You trusted Reiner with your life so without questioning you followed. He took some cream onto his finger and slowly applied towards the outside of your entrance, and then used his finger to apply deep within you as well, swirling his finger inside you making sure to coat every inch of your hole, "This ointment, i got it from the doctor beforehand, it helps ease the pain and soreness post sex, i know youre hurting there". You sat up with slight tears in your eyes, shocked by the amount of care and love this man had for you "Reiner thank you for loving me like this", wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him for a hug, you both fell on the bed without clothes just embracing each other and cuddling while looking a the city lights together.

Reiner had his eyes closed and was softly breathing drifting off to sleep, his hair slightly wet from the shower still slicked back, and his alabaster skin reflecting soft light coming from the window. His dick was visible resting against him, his abs moving up and down as he was breathing. He was yours, a sight to behold. You slowly shook him awake and he used his sculpted arms to sit up. He knew it was time for you to go home. Both of you wore clothes and cleaned up the mess. Finally at the gate you looked back at the Air bnb, you didnt know why but you felt a very slight sorrow about leaving the place where Reiner and you became one for the very first time. Reiner put his hand on your cheek and pulled your face to face him. "Ill see you this weekend over at my place?" You gave him a big innocent smile while nodding your head. With that he locked the door and dropped you back at your house.

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yelenasdog · 3 years

Text

𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 (𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐖𝐈 𝐁𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: wherever they go, it seems they can’t escape each other

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 6.09k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smoking, drinking, kissing, getting ~steamy~, but nothing explicit.

𝐚/𝐧: this kinda feels melodramatic at times, but over all i think this is an alright fic that took me forever LOL! i hope you enjoy it! btw,

this can be read as ben!rog or just rog, i just was thinking of ben!rog when i wrote it

also if u wanna listen to kiwi while listening, the vibes would be immaculate and i reccomend it :D kk enjoy

✺🎬✺

Her footsteps were mute as she padded forward on the concrete, searching furiously through her crochet bag. The box in her hands stayed tightly gripped though, Roger noted. He waited a bit until he was certain she had no chance of finding what he thought she was looking for, and that he would be her last resort.

“Need a light?”

He watched with careful eyes as the girl next to him fumbled about to pick out a cigarette from the nearly emptied box, probably just some cheap ones from the gas station near the dorms.

“Yes, thanks.”

The brunet nodded, bringing his forward to her’s and inhaling, a few loose embers falling to the ground in a sparkling orange flurry.

Roger observed the way her chipped nails on ring adorned fingers shakily held the cigarette as she brought it to her lips, taking a very long drag.

It was windy out that night (which was the reason he was telling himself he decided not to bother with his Zippo), her silky black dress doing barely a thing to keep her covered from the chilly temperatures. He noticed the blue tint to her formerly painted lips, only a pale stain of color left behind. He also happened to notice the goosebumps that graced her exposed arms and legs, and her slight shiver that came with it.

The girl nervously adjusted the twisted strap to her purse, sending a glance in Rog’s direction every once in a while, but mostly she kept her gaze fixed on the stars above. She seemed to be mesmerized by the way they twinkled so brightly, even in the polluted sky. The bottles of liquor in her purse clinked together, and she cringed visibly at the sound, a shiver being sent through her bones.

He smiled at her behavior, oddly endeared by it, perhaps even enchanted.

“What’s your name?”

She turned, taking the stick from between her lips. Roger kept his eyes glued to the plump flesh momentarily despite the movement away from the area.

“That’s none of your business, Roger.” She smiled, a playful look set ablaze in her eyes.

He looked down, putting his hands up in mock surrender.

“How do you know my name, then?” He questioned curiously, slanting his eyes and quirking a brow.

“Your band.” Her voice seemed softer, almost a fond tone set within it.

“You’ve seen us play?”

“Yeah, you guys are good.”

“You’re a fan then?”

She chuckled, looking to her feet.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

He laughed, nodding yet again.

They stayed together for some time, silently and mutually agreeing that enough had been said. They finished off their smokes, and with that, she turned to go.

“Bye, Roger.”

He bit his lip, feeling the sting shoot through him. He was conflicted on if to make a move, not wanting to diminish his confident and cool reputation he believed he had built for himself. He settled for shouting something along the lines of “will I see you around?” (which upon thinking back over it, maybe it wasn’t that cool), to which she only shrugged and kept walking.

He could hear the bottles loudly clanking together as she sauntered off, lord knows where to. He watched her go until she turned the corner, tossing one final look in his direction before continuing on, leaving him in deep thought.

“I’m telling you, mate, she was drop dead gorgeous. And I have no idea who she is, no name or anything!”

Brian rolled his eyes, tossing his notebook across the room onto the yellow sofa Roger was resting on, turning his full attention to his distraught friend.

“Well, did you ask her for her name?”

He shook his head, rolling his eyes in a similar manner to Bri. “Yes, I did. She said it was ‘none of my business’.” He scoffed, twirling a single drumstick between his fingers while tapping his foot repeatedly, annoying Brian to no end (per usual). The curly headed man only barked out a laugh, finding the entire situation quite humorous, if he was being honest.

“But she knew the band! Said that she thought we were good. S’ like she couldn’t make up her damn mind.” He grumbled, slumping forward.

“Wait, she knows the band?”

The drummer looked at him like he had two heads nodding slowly.

“Yeah, what about it?”

Brian stood up and sighed, grabbing his guitar and headed to the edge of the bar’s stage, resting behind the curtain briefly.

“You really are thick, Roger.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” He joined him by the curtain, noticing Tim had come up behind the pair.

“What’s all this about, then?”

“Nothing.” Brian and Roger replied in unison. Tim huffed, making his way onto the stage where the growing crowd was waiting. Cheers could be heard for the frontman as he introduced himself, saying something about how the rest of the band would be out in a second, and that they were just having some “sound issues”.

“Rog, if she’s a fan, she’s probably here tonight, yes?”

His eyes widened, and he suddenly began to feel quite dumb, not that he would admit it.

“Yeah, I suppose so…but she said she wasn’t a fan?” He trailed off, confused.

“She probably was just saying that for some reason. I don’t know, women are odd, they like to play hard to get.” Brian commented, oddly flippant for how conflicting his statement was.

Roger stood in place for a moment, still greatly confused what Brian was trying to get at. He shook his head and furrowed his brows, trying to put together the puzzle of this mess in his mind.

“Roger, for God's sake, don’t think about it, just go.”

Following his advice, Roger did his best to disregard any previous thoughts of confusion, a switch flipping in his mind. He stood taller, saying, “You know what Bri, maybe you’re right.”

“Great, go on then.” He watched as Roger bounded out with a newfound adrenaline and a smile plastered on his face, rolling his eyes for what wouldn’t be the final time that night at his bandmate’s antics.

As soon as he had made it behind his kit, he was scanning the crowded room, trying to locate the girl from last night. He watched the door throughout the performance, trying to see if she might have just come in a bit late. He held the hope she would somehow show up with him in his mind, but all to no avail.

The entire night, he couldn’t shake the thought of her lips from his mind, or the way the skin of her neck was so open and exposed, practically begging for him to attack it with his own lips. And with the way things were going thus far, he was sure that pretty face of her’s would be the death of him, he was certain, in fact.

“Find her?” Bri had questioned almost as soon as they had ended for the night, the lot of them now working on cleaning up.

“Nah. She never showed up.”

“I’m sorry, Rog. Maybe you’ll see her again soon, the campus isn’t that huge, you know.” Roger’s mouth formed a thin line as he raised his eyebrows, not convinced in the slightest that the situation proposed would occur.

“At this point I’m wondering if she’s even a bloody student here.” Roger grumbled, obviously no longer feeling the initial electric adrenaline of the night's performance.

Brian frowned, placing a sympathetic hand on his friend's shoulder and patting it once or twice before standing to go finish packing up.

It was later now, and the boys were finally leaving the bar, bidding their goodbyes to those around them. Roger walked out the front (in what Tim and Brian joked was a ‘moping manner’), hearing the bell jangle above his head, ringing annoyingly in his ear. The cold air hit him like an arctic breeze (or a ton of bricks, he wasn’t sure which description was more fitting). He shook his head and blinked a few times, as if that would rid his body of the frigid feeling. He sighed dramatically and pulled his corduroy jacket tighter around himself, watching as his breath made a small cloud in front of him.

“Roger?”

He turned, recognizing the voice immediately.

“Having a pity party, are you?” She giggled out, wrapping her arms around her middle.

“It’s only me, so no. Not a party.”

She “ahh”-d in understanding, her mouth forming into a sly grin. Her lips were a pale pink color that night, her eyes a bright blue shade. And similarly to the night previous, she was graced with only a brown fringed dress, her matching boots in one hand, a lit cigarette in the other.

“Then what would it be if I joined you?”

He stood in thought, tilting his head. “I think then, yeah, it would be a party.”

“Do you not get cold, ever?” He added after a beat of silence, observing her ill outfit choice for the frosty climate. She rolled her eyes, muttering out a brief “ha, ha.”

Roger couldn’t help but bite his lip, holding back a laugh.

“I do on occasion get a little bit chilly. But I like the feeling.”

He tilted his head, walking over to where she was leaning against the brick wall of the dive bar. He turned to face her, not that she noticed, putting his weight on the rough surface behind him.

“It makes me feel,” she hesitated, struggling to find the right word, although she felt it was right on the tip of her tongue.

“Alive?”

She finally met his eyes after what seemed like forever, softly nodding. To him, she looked like an angel in that moment, the street light so beautifully illuminating her locks like a halo around her. He reached a cautious hand forward, dragging it against her cheek, down to her bottom lip.

Her mind was screaming at her to leave while she still could, to somehow not fall in the mix of the infamous campus player that was Roger Taylor.

But her heart? Well, as cliche as it sounds, her heart was telling her to disregard any reasonable thoughts and just kiss the bastard, for God’s sake.

And if anyone knew Y/n Y/l/n, they knew that most times, she would listen to the latter mentioned, rather than the former. And so after several moments of unbearable silence, she decided she would. Catching on relatively fast, Roger took her flush against him, Y/n able to feel his breath fanning over her face.

She leaned forward with a small smile, placing her hands on either side of his face. Her eyes wandered to his plump and rosy lips, adrenaline pumping through her veins. But before she could make the final leap, so to say, Brian, of all people, called out her name in a confused nature, squinting, believing that it might have been his eyes deceiving him. The girl from his 9 a.m. lecture could not possibly be about to snog his bandmate.

Impossible.

Her eyes widened, head turning immediately when hearing her name fall from his lips.

“Brian, hey!”

“Wait, you two know each other?”

Ignoring Roger’s (panicked) question, Brian walked over, a look of amazement still prevalent in his features. She moved from Roger’s side over to Brian, giving him a side hug, Bri’s arm resting on her shoulders.

“I see you’ve met Y/n. She’s in my astronomy class.”

She smiled brightly as the neon signs lining the downtown district of bars and restaurants alike, meeting Brians gaze.

“Yup, got to love Dr. Martin’s lectures.” She chuckled, the tall man next to her doing the same.

Picking up on Roger’s absolutely bewildered appearance, still taking in the situation unfolding in front of him, Brian took the liberty of initiating another conversation.

“So, Y/n, did you see the show tonight?”

She frowned, crossing her arms.

“Wanted to, but no, got caught up in the library. I have my final for statistics on Thursday, or else I would have been there.” She locked eyes with Roger, giving him a soft smile. Suddenly changing her demeanor, she reached into her bag she always seemed to have with her, pulling out those cheap cigarettes and her Zippo. She lit one of the sticks, inhaling.

“In fact, I heard your drummer was incredible, so I thought I would try to see him in action tonight.” Her gaze never left Rogers as she conversed, her mouth pressed in a line, the rest of her face completely neutral.

“But you’ve seen us before Y/n, he’s been with the band for quite some time.”

“I mean, I wanted to see him with a fresh pair of eyes, a different perspective, I guess.”

Still mildly confused, Brain shook his head and muttered something like “Right, okay” to which Y/n softly smiled at before dropping the cigarette from her hand. Barefoot, she couldn’t reach down to step on it, have the sparks die out under her toes.

“Could one of you get that, please?”

Roger nodded immediately, his boot finding its way quickly, the toe of it making a circular motion. His eyes stayed on Y/n, as had hers before. And despite the bustling city around them, Hell, even despite Brian’s perplexed stare, it felt oddly intimate, as if they were locked onto each other’s view (not that they were complaining).

But they weren’t, as she proved mere seconds later, abruptly bidding them goodbye and heading the opposite direction.

The pair of boys watched her as she went, heads tilted and jaws dropped to where if their mothers were present, they would be scolded to “close their mouths before they catch flies in there!”.

“That’s her, you know.” Roger commented bluntly, slightly shaking his head and then popping his lip.

Brian took a moment, turning toward his friend, stuttering.

“As in, her, her? Y/n is mystery girl?” He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Yeah, well, good luck with that, Rog.”

“Why would I need that, Brian?” He challenged, putting his hands on his hips, lifting his chin. Brain kept his assumed position, moving his hand to scratch at his neck.

‘Well, I’m sure if you hang out around her enough, you’ll find out.”

Rather than shouting out at him, asking him what the Hell he meant, as he really wanted to, Roger paid Bri no attention, not even giving him a second look before under his breath saying “I’ll see you later”, and in what Brian considered to be a quite shocking turn of events, bolting off in the direction Y/n had gone.

He ignored the shouts from Brian, ignored the judgmental stares and loud whispers of those who recognized him from the band. He no longer cared about keeping his ‘cool reputation’, not when she was so close.

“Is that Roger Taylor?”, “Oi, isn’t that the drummer from the band at the pub?”, “Hey, why’s he buggin’ out?” all flooded his ears, usually followed by what seemed to be snickering, making a desperate attempt to cloud his mind from his self-assigned mission. But it was no use, as he was set on catching up to her. In fact, she was so close he swore he could smell the mixed scent that was uniquely her, smoke and her perfume.

He hollered her name, God, he yelled it till his throat was hoarse, just ‘cause he could. He loved the way it rolled off his tongue, he loved the fact he even had learned it to begin with, and that alone was probably why he adored it so much.

She heard his cries, turning where she stood and tilting her head.

“Roger? What on Earth are you doing?”

He finally met her, bent over on his hands and knees, breath lost in totality. She placed a concerned hand on his sweaty head, combing through his chocolate locks. He would have shivered at the feeling, if he had the energy. Rather, he looked up with the goofiest smile she’d ever seen, resembling a golden retriever, or german shepherd perhaps, in human form.

‘D’you wanna go somewhere with me? Hang out a bit?”

She nodded, holding out a hand.

“Lead the way.”

“Mom and Dad want me to be some kind of a scientist, study the stars.”

“Yeah? And what do you think about that.”

She tilted her head, shifting her position.

“I’m not quite sure. I wouldn’t be against it, that I know. The stars are beautiful, but they aren’t where my heart lies, I guess.”

He turned to face her, their noses almost touching. She could feel his breath fanning over her face, and the proximity sent butterflies through her stomach.

“I want to be an actress.” She all but whispered, turning her attention back to the full night sky and the wonders that hung in it.

“An actress, huh?”

She only hummed a confirmation, moving her left hand to pick at the cool grass under her palms.

“I could see that. You, I mean, on the big screens.”

She turned, and Roger swore he had never seen anyone smile so big before in his life.

“Really?”

His own smile grew, and she nodded vigorously, the two of them beginning to laugh. He pulled her closer by her shoulders, unaware of where the conversation would lead.

“I’ll go to New York. You’ll see me on billboards in Times Square.”

“Well, that’s nice to know. I’ll just be a lone dentist somewhere, while you forget all about me, having lavish parties and such. Whatever it is that famous people do.” His voice was obviously joking, melodramatic was written all over him, yet Y/n couldn’t help but still feel a sliver of guilt.

She hit his arm, rolling back over to face him. She still had a smile glued onto her lips, both of their eyes crinkling at the edges.

“Oh, shut up, will you? Smile will make it big, and we’ll meet again, when you’re on tour. Or perhaps if I’m filming where you’re performing! We’ll have those nights to ourselves, It’ll be a secret rendezvous.”

She turned to her back again, finding his hand on the damp green, her heart beating a million miles a second as she reached for it, slowly entangling her fingers in his.

“The papers will write about us, Rog, when they find out. ‘Famous actress Y/n Y/l/n seen leaving a hotel with renowned drummer Roger Taylor’ is what the headlines will say. God, what a scene we’ll cause.” Her eyes were full of excitement as she spoke, her heart feeling like it was so filled with glee that it could soar out of her chest.

“Well, I wanna know the specifics.” Roger sat up, pulling her up with him, she giggled, and the brunette wrapped a hand around her waist. She sat beside him, the streetlight by the backroad she had led them on illuminating her like a silhouette. She bit her lip and grinned, tilting her head up to better exam Rogers angelic features.

“Are you gonna have some bloke waiting for you at home, hmm? Waiting for you while you conquer the world, only for you to break his poor heart?”

“Nah.” Her answer was immediate, her eyes honest as she spoke. “Only a cactus. He’ll be my only friend. I hear it’s lonely in Hollywood, Roger.” He raised his eyebrows briefly at this, choosing his next words.

“You’ll have me?”

His head turned to look at her, admiring the way the pale moonlight illuminated her, the artificial light from the streetlamps not doing her neverending beauty and justice, in his opinion. Their eyes seemed sporadic, searching each other's faces for signs of what they were doing, possibly being wrong, but they found nothing, as expected.

The yearning had become all too much for the inspired pair, and it felt like at last, all they could do, the only thing they could do, was kiss.

So they did. Roger took her face in his hands, closing his beautiful eyes, his eyelashes barely brushing against hers. He leaned forward, joining them together, finding that they immediately moved in a perfect synchronization. They were like two sides of the same coin, and that seemed to be particularly evident in that moment. By the contrast of their lips, or perhaps the aspirations of their careers becoming somehow just a little bit clearer.

But it didn’t matter, none of it did. Not in the long run. So they pulled apart, chests heaving and faces painted with childish grins.

It was quiet then, only the crickets and the howling wind could be heard. But she liked it that way, preferred it, actually. So quiet, in fact, that Roger was able to fall fast asleep, Y/n lying comfortably in his arms. She stared at the stars, then back to his sleeping figure, her mind unable to come to a consensus on what on God's green Earth she was to do.

She settled for placing a kiss on his jaw, closing her eyes. His eyes only fluttered, never waking completely. She muttered something like “See you, rockstar.” against it, before standing up and walking away, only turning back once to see his sleeping form one more time.

That was the last time for 6 years that he would see Y/n Y/l/n. See her in person, at least.

When he woke up the next morning, he was confused to say the least, wondering why Y/n didn’t wake him, mostly wondering where she had even gone. He looked around himself, patting the green grass beneath him, as if she somehow was invisible and he had missed her upon initial glance. He had shouted for her, his throat still hurting from when he did the same thing only 12 hours previous.

He had felt out of control, like the one he had been chasing had just slipped through his fingers (which it had). He had remembered asking Bri, day after day, if he had seen her in class, even just seen her around in general. Everytime the answer was the same.

“No Roger”, “I’m sorry, Roger”, “Not today, Roger”. It was a horrible, predictable pattern, that he had enough of. He was supposed to recover from it quickly, bounce back from her almost immediately, as there was basically nothing to bounce back from.

But he couldn’t, and due to such reasons, he supposed he finally understood what Brian had said, or warned, that night before he had gone chasing after her. He got it, in his own sad way.

And over the years, she slowly faded to the back of the drummer's mind, behind groupies, and songs, and shows, and such, just for her to resurface again any time he saw her on a billboard, just as she had promised. But he never let it show, outwardly at least.

He had made Brian swear not to tell the others, never to breathe a word of it to Deaky or Fred. He was embarrassed by it, for some reason, and that’s why he guessed he forbade him from speaking of it. But how long can you keep a silly college secret from your nosy bandmates? Apparently 6 years, tops, for Roger Taylor.

“Alright, everyone. Gather ‘round, I’ve got a surprise.” Freddie had said, his grumbling bunch of friends tired from their day’s work. Though, they usually had grown to appreciate and look forward to Fred’s “surprises”, today everyone was just a tad bit too grumpy to try (a certain Roger Taylor in particular, let’s call it foreshadowing).

“Oh, stop your moaning and whining, please, I promise this will be good!” the eccentric frontman had said, something hidden behind his back in his left hand.

Rog ran a hand through his, now, blond hair, exhaling in such a way that made Freddie slant his eyes, before giving in and rolling them at his flippant behavior.

“What’s going on, Fred?” Brian had been the brave soul to ask, stepping forward and then looking away momentarily to place his guitar onto a stand waiting not so far away.

“I thought you’d never ask.” He replied, jumping down from his place on the risers, removing his hand from his back and holding out what seemed to be 4 tickets to something. He walked down the loosely formed line of men, putting one in each of their extended palms. Roger, at the end of their formation of sorts, became concerned when Brian had burst out laughing, looking to his right, being met with Roger’s face of confusion.

Freddie, possibly more confused than Roger, pressing the piece of thick paper into his hand, his gaze falling onto Brian, who now had tears in his eyes.

“Bri, what’s so… funny. Shit.” He had looked down to the slip, the only words he needed to read to know he was absolutely screwed, being “Jaws” and “Premiere”.

Now, anybody who knew anything, knew that Y/n Y/l/n was going to be in the film that was said to become the blockbuster of the summer, playing the role of Ellen Brody (though a few had said she was far too young for the job). She had been an overnight success in the film industry, gaining popularity from the 1973 film, ‘The Sting’, playing Billie.

And Roger had watched ‘The Sting’, and you can imagine his surprise when Y/n had sauntered onto screen, red lipped and fresh faced. (He had to admit, she looked great in a suit.)

After that, the assault on Roger’s fragile heart was never ending.

Billboards began to pop up even more frequently as she was to star in more films, and it seemed no matter where he was touring, he couldn’t escape her. Whether it was posters, her face printed on newspapers, adverts in about every place business was done for one of her films, he felt like he was being followed. He had even seen an article about her in a magazine, and when he had flipped the page he was greeted with Queen’s smiling faces.

He had stopped watching them after ‘American Graffiti’.

So, he figured that this one wouldn’t be any different, and he simply planned on ignoring said film until he caved, doing his best to avoid her on the silver screen and anywhere else, which hadn’t been too difficult until this point (not).

But this? This was a whole new level of being royally fucked.

“Brian, Rog, something you want to share with the rest of the class?” John had asked, cocking his head and propping his legs up on the coffee table in front of him. Brian began to speak, wrapping an arm around Roger’s shoulders, the shorter man looking up at him with angry fire burning in his eyes.

“Well, I’m honestly quite excited. The film industry has always seemed very intriguing, actually, and I’m looking forward to meeting new people. Rog?”

“No.”

“No?” John repeated, “No, what?” He waved a hand around, trying to understand what Roger’s problem was.

“I just- I don’t- I knew-”

“Roger had a fling with Y/n Y/l/n and she broke his heart.” Brain blurted out, Roger turning and immediately smacking him upside his curly head of hair. He regarded an “Ouch!” before him and the rest of the boys burst out laughing, the drummer not included in that demographic, fuming.

“Rog, darling, when was this? How did we not know?” Freddie managed to breathe out, sitting down next to Deaky on the studio sofa. He crossed his hands and ankles, his full attention turned towards Roger who really, really didn’t wanna have to do this, and who really, really was gonna get Brian back for this later. Would he untune all his guitars? Unplug his amp during rehearsals, perhaps put hair remover in his shampoo? But, that would have to wait until after he was forced to spill his 6 year secret.

“It was in 69-”

“69?!” Freddie had cried out. “It’s been 6 bloody years? And you didn’t think to tell us?”

“Well I didn’t really see a reason it would be necessary to tell you all! In fact, I probably wouldn’t have told you ever if this bloke didn’t have such a big mouth!”

“Hey, watch it.” Brian weighed in, crossing his arms and fluttering his eyes.

“Look, Roger I really don’t see the issue here. We go to the premiere, you just keep a low profile and ignore Y/n, problem solved.” John cut in, trying to be helpful.

Keyword: trying.

“And how exactly will I do that?”

“We will behave, I promise.” Freddie added, though Roger seemed to be having a difficult time believing him or his claim for the others. So Roger only scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, I’m sure you will.”

Cameras were flashing brightly, reporters and such were shouting loudly, and Y/n was already exhausted.

Her red lips were painted like DeAngelo had done it himself, and her hair was styled just the way she liked. The heels she was wearing per request of her stylist, though, were horrible. They looked lovely, yes, but they were digging into her poor ankles, and she still had to wear them for who knew how long. She didn’t complain, though, she wouldn’t dream of it.

She would just continue her slow walk down the carpet, a sultry smile on her face. The black fabric of the gown she was wearing fit her beautifully, snug in all the right places.

She sure hoped it was, at least. Especially because she knew that he would be there.

Roger Taylor, the blessed drummer that managed to make a home in the backburner of her mind, his success coming as no surprise to the actress. She had loved every one of their records, and rather than running from his work like Roger had, she opted for going straight to the record shop, purchasing any and every Queen album in her sight. When she had checked out, the very shocked cashier had made some remark, asking something about “you a fan?”

She had thought about it for a moment, thinking back to all those years ago when Roger had asked the same thing. She smiled, shrugging.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

So when she had worked up the courage to invite the entire band to the premiere (on behalf of Spielberg, of course) she was a nervous wreck to find out they had accepted. Really, ask anyone who had any contact with her in the time from then to the premiere, they could testify that her moodiness had risen like a hot air balloon.

Now, though, she was kind of regretting that she had invited them, looking over to the sharp looking bunch, all dressed to the nines. She scanned her eyes over them, catching a wave from Brian, which she gladly returned with an enthusiastic smile. Bri then tapped Roger on the shoulder to alert him of Y/n’s acknowledgment, which resulted in Y/n’s eyes widening to the size of moons.

She turned her head, and worked to finish up her walk of the carpet just a tad bit faster. It all seemed to be for nothing, though, as in the dark of the theater for the premiere itself, she saw the seat next to her be filled, a presence filling her senses.

“Miss me?”

Their hands were all over each other, not truly caring if the tabloids caught a glimpse, just needing to make up for lost time.

They had stumbled into the golden hotel both her and Queen were staying in, the swinging doors of the New York establishment blowing a cool gust of wind in their direction.

They merely laughed at the minor interruption, their teeth clashing as they both smiled momentarily. It was soon forgotten, though, both of them having much more pressing matters in their minds.

They only came to a cease in the elevator, some old couple who most definitely did not care about whatever pressing issue the two of them felt they had, standing off to the side. (Y/n could swear she saw the older woman smirk and wink at her, to which she cocked her head and smiled.)

Once back into the safe confines of Y/n’s suite, they resumed like they had never even stopped, hands gravitating towards the others form as if they were opposite magnets, unable to be separated for too long.

“You’ve driven me crazy, you know that, right? “

She giggled and bit her lip, looking up into his eyes, their foreheads pressed together.

“Mmm? I’d hope so.”

He pulled away, shaking his head, blond locks following suit.

“Really, you have no idea. I haven’t been able to shake you from my head. You’re everywhere.”

Her excitement could barely be contained at his confession of sorts, chest heaving, trying to stay calm.

“Yeah, that was the plan.”

Roger shook his head with a dry chuckle, looking to his feet and back to her when she had tilted his head up, her finger resting on his jaw.

“Well, are you into it?” She questioned, grabbing his hand and pulling their clasped fingers in between their chests, her eyes hazy with hope.

“Yeah.” He titled his head, feigning a pondering look. “You could say I’m kinda into it.”

“Shut it!”

“Make me.”

She rolled her eyes at his stupidly provocative suggestion, and he only laughed, the two of them falling onto the plush comfort of the bed in a meshed flurry for the remainder of the night.

And if you couldn’t guess what could have possibly happened next, the black dress ended up in a pooled up pile next to the bed that night, right next to the heels that finally she had the pleasure of discarding.

The next morning, it was unlike the one 6 years ago, as when Roger woke up, he was overjoyed to find a sleeping Y/n, laying on his chest with hair splayed around her. And he had to say, he usually wasn’t much of a cuddler, but for some reason he felt so incredibly endeared, that anything else wouldn’t have sufficed.

He ran small circles on the exposed skin of her bare shoulder, the comforter concealing the rest of her limbs that were tangled up with Roger’s.

When she stirred, Roger sat up, fondly watching as her eyes fluttered open and her tongue ran across her dried lips, still carrying a hint of last night's red pigment. She looked next to her, her eyeline matching up with the covered skin of Roger’s lap.

She sighed, shifting her head to rest on his thighs as her feet dangled off of the bed. One of Roger’s hands came up to softly massage the top of her head, the other against the headboard, behind his neck. She stared at the ceiling, an unreadable expression creeping its way to her features.

“We were jacked up last night.” Roger’s voice cut through the silence they shared, deeper in the late morning than she had heard before.

“Correction, you were jacked up.”

“Whatever.”

They laughed, silence soon taking over once again. Roger sighed, closing his ever tired eyes.

“Are we gonna pay for this?”

She scoffed, inhaling deeply before reaching over to the nightstand, grabbing her carton of cigarettes. He noticed they were the same brand from college, a small smile making its way to his face at the thought.

She first lit hers, then lighting a second one for the man occupying her king sized bed (though she wasn’t even slightly upset by this, quite the opposite). She handed it to him, sticking her own between her lips and sitting up, straddling where her head had been minutes before.

She leaned forward, so close their noses were to the point where they were nearly touching. She took the cigarette from her lips, blowing the smoke to the left of Rog in the direction of the large balcony overlooking Times Square. She turned her attention back to him, though it had never really left, tilting her head.

“Do you regret it?”

“No.” The answer came immediately, no careful consideration or pondering needed.

“Right.” She removed herself from him, standing and taking the sheet with her, letting it cover her like a renaissance dress. She walked over to the balcony, leaning against the frame of the double doors. She took another drag, an adoring smile spreading across her face.

“Then there’s your answer.”

She paused, Roger tilted his head, his brows lifting.

“Of course we will.”

✺🎬✺

if u liked that hot mess pls like and rb!! mwah ily go eat protein and drink water if ur able. xx hj

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starpollen1998 · 3 years

Text

Uber Allergic: A Romance - part 1 / ?

I don’t know what it is with me and cars lately. Maybe because I haven’t driven one in nearly 4 years, or maybe because I had a plot bunny about a hired driver and then couldn’t decide which direction to take it. So, naturally, I wrote 2 stories. A warning: I have never taken an Uber. I have used a similar company in the country where I live, so I imagined it would be the same. Apologies for any mistakes. Hope you enjoy!

The Ride - Part 1

When I saw him standing on the curb waiting, I couldn’t help but blink. And then swallow hard. The man was stunning: tall, broad-shouldered, long-limbed, with a perfect jawline and dazzling smile. His hair was that rare coiff that crested like waves from his head, barely brushing his ears, thick and tawny like a lion. When he dropped into the back seat, I saw his eyes were a stunning shade of blue.

I’ve had attractive men in my car before, sure. But none quite as mind-blowing as this one.

“Heya, darlin’,” he quipped, firing off a devastating wink at me through the rear view mirror.

“Hi,” I replied, barely able to get that single syllable past the lump in my throat. I prayed I could focus on the road in front of me and not the Greek-god-incarnate in the back seat. He was headed across town, a trip that would take us roughly 40 minutes.

We rode in silence for almost a full minute, him tapping away on his cell phone while I gritted my teeth and forced my gaze at the horizon. Occasionally I glanced at the GPS, checking that we were on track.

Then…

“heHH?...”

I couldn’t help it. My eyes darted up to the rear view mirror.

I watched as Greek-god pinched his nostrils shut, rubbing in hard, tight circles, finishing with a small shake of his head, blue eyes blinking furiously. Was it my imagination, or did those eyes seem to be getting red?

I kept driving.

Not even a minute later…

“heh-heHH?...”

Once more, my eyes snapped like magnets to the rear view mirror. My passenger was frozen in classic pre-sneeze expression: eyes squeezed shut, mouth open, lower lip trembling… nostrils flared, the tip of his prominent nose visibly twitching. His elegant head turned left, then right, and then…

“heght--SHHzzztT!!”

He sneezed - snapping into his elbow at the last second.

“B-... Bless you,” I stammered, sure I was blushing red as a tomato.

But Greek god wasn’t done.

He raised his head, eyes still shut, shoulders bouncing with stuttering hitches. My eyes were darting between the road ahead and the rear view mirror, terrified that I was either going to rear-end someone … or miss one second of the spectacle in the back seat.

Then - a red light.

Thank you! I screamed in my mind to whatever higher power was listening.

When I came back to the rear view mirror, his right hand was raised, hovering loosely cupped, nostrils stretching into little round O’s, his upper lip curled back from gleaming white teeth…

“hegt--SCHgtT!!” he snapped down, visibly misting the hand. This time he stayed down, and I could almost see his abs rippling beneath his button-up shirt. “eegh--SCHHtT… aAH-SCHTch-u!!”

“Bless you,” I barely breathed, glad that this particular red light seemed to be taking a lot longer than usual.

His voice - husky and a little congested - floated up from behind the hand still cupped to his nose.

“... snfll… thanks, darlin’. … sdrfl…. Don’t suppose you h-have… sdrffl… any tissues?”

Fumbling, I opened the glove box and pulled out the stack of drive-through napkins I kept stashed away for emergencies. Usually spilled coffee. Twisting in my seat, I set the stack on his left knee, fingertips brushing the hard muscles of his thigh.

Peering through the tawny strands of hair that had been knocked loose by the fit, his eyes crinkled with a smile. “Thanks.”

An impatient honk made me jump. Heart pounding, I whipped back around to face the road and eased us forward through the intersection. His soft chuckle made my ears burn, sure that I was blushing fire-engine red by now.

I heard soft blowing, more wet sniffles, and managed to catch in the mirror when he stretched two KFC napkins between both hands and muffled a wet double: “t’SCHmp--g’SCHHm!”

“Bless you,” I managed, happy when my voice sounded even and calm, even though my hands were gripping the steering wheel hard.

“Darlin’ you don’t… hH!--... have to say that every time… snffl---hHehH!--... l-looks like I m- muhH!-HGK’tSCHHt!... excuse me. I might be at this a while...” Taking another napkin from the dwindling stack, he pinched it around his nose and rubbed again in small, fast circles, brows drawing together in concentration.

Grateful for another red light, I stared into the mirror. My passenger had a fist full of crumpled napkins in one hand, the other pinching and rubbing desperately at increasingly pinkening nostrils.

“Does… this happen often?”

Another husky chuckle, which deteriorated into more hitching breaths and another itchy-sounding sneeze. “hgz’CHHT! … Depends,” he breathed, bringing the knot of used tissues up to dab at his watering eyes. “Do you have a c-... hHihh!... a cat?”

The Ride - Part 2

My mouth dropped open, eyes wide. He saw my expression in the mirror and gave another chuckle. Swiping a knuckle under his nose, he flashed me a wry grin. “Well, that explains it.”

“I’m sorry,” I looked back at him, stricken.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” he gave a dismissive shake of his lion’s head. “You couldn’t know. heh-GSCHhtu!... And it’s not like there’s a box to tick in the app, or anything. ...snfl… ‘Driver has pets.’ ...sdrfl … A lot of people do. Have pets.”

“I know,” I replied softly, turning the wheel smoothly as we rounded a corner. “But I can still be sorry that you’re… you know…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I couldn’t even glance in the mirror.

But I heard the smile in his voice when he said, “It’s fine. Really. It h--hH! hg’zCHHt!-heh’GZShht!... excuse me. It happens a lot, actually. snfl.”

That did make me glance at the mirror, brows raised in surprise… and interest. “Really?”

Greek god had placed the growing pile of used napkins in the seat beside him, frowning down at both his watch and the small stack of napkins still on his leg. The tip of his nose was flushing a tell-tale pink, blue eyes definitely red-rimmed. He blinked rapidly and sniffled constantly, dabbing at his eyes or wiping at his nose, overall looking the very picture of ‘itchy’ and ‘allergic.’

“Yeah,” he replied, breath spiraling in preparation for another sneeze… but it left him last-minute, causing him to give a frustrated cough. “I’m allergic to most animals, but you might say I’m… uber allergic to cats.” Those stunning blue eyes twinkled at me in the mirror, followed by a mischievous wink.

“Why risk taking an Uber, then?”

“Well, as cliché as it sounds... my car is in the shop.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, snffll, I got a… hH!--... a recall letter. Better safe tha-… heh-GSCHt--ahh-GSCHu!... ugh. Apologies.”

We chatted a little more during the ride, about his job as an IT consultant and my 3 jobs: kindergarten teacher, waitress at Olive Garden, and Uber driver. By the time we reached his destination I had counted no less than 56 sneezes, nearly always he followed up with ‘excuse me,’ or some other polite apologetic. He had used my entire stash of emergency napkins, and his handsome face was a bleary, blotchy wreck: nose red, eyes puffy, voice croaky and thick with congestion.

“I’m sorry, again,” I said when we stopped at the curb in front of his building.

“Add - agaid - you dod’t have adythig to be sorry for,” he rasped, palming the pile of used tissues and reaching for a few that had fallen to the floor.

“Oh, I can do that,” I got out in a rush. “You don’t have to--”

“Oh, doh,” he chuckled, voice breaking on the second word like a prepubescent. “I cad take by owd dirty tissues, darlid’.” Glancing up, he gave me a soft smile. “You’ve beed padiedt edough about all this.” Maybe I imagined it, but it looked like he blushed just a little.

“Well it’s my fault,” I insisted.

He opened his mouth to reply, but instead turned and gave a tired-sounding sneeze into his elbow. “H’eISCHt!... gkm, pardod.”

“Bless you,” I murmured.

“You dow, sdrfl, I usually dod’t like it whed people say that…”

“I’m sor--”

“But sobehow whed you do,” he glanced back, swiping a knuckle under his nose and giving that same, soft smile. “I dod’t mide.”

He exited, leaving me staring after him with a mixture of warmth and confusion. Definitely one of the most… unusual... rides I’d ever had.

Throwing the lever into park, I got out to do my usual check of the interior in case the passenger had left something behind. A flash of white tucked by the seatbelt latch caught my eye. Thinking Greek god must have missed one of the used napkin wads, I reached for it.

And pulled out a business card.

“C. B. Decker - Sunfire Technology”

I turned it over.

“Thanks for the ride... Have dinner with me sometime?”

I pulled my head out of the car, staring over my shoulder at his building. I wasn’t sure, but it looked like someone was standing just inside the glazed doors, watching. Turning back to the card in my hand, I bit my lip. It was a violation of my Uber contract if I said yes.

But.

That guy...

Aw, hell. I could get by without the income. Probably.

Maybe.

I looked back at the building, and was now sure I could make out his tall silhouette, tawny mane just a bit disheveled. The figure suddenly bent forward, and I knew.

I kept my eyes on the building as I made a show of putting the card into my pocket. It wasn’t a no. But it wasn’t a yes.

Not yet.

As I drove home for the night, my imagination spun out as I deliberated whether or not to accept. One, he knew I had a cat, was apparently ‘uber’ allergic... and wanted to see me again, anyway. Two, I had been getting tired of driving 30 hours a week, and maybe I could arrange to suspend my contract. Or I could quit, and then get rehired if things didn’t work out… or, if they did...

I crawled into bed, reaching up to stroke Sheba where she always slept on the second pillow. She made a little mew, flipping her head upside down and curling tighter into a furry ball.

As I drifted off to sleep, his delicious sneezes echoed in my dreams…

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dingoat · 3 years

Photo

[So, @cinlat has been dabbling in a Sith au for her Fynta, with cameo slots available for various other characters to come hang out. And just the little bit of contemplation we had about where Ahuska might slot into this particular version of events, I wound up inspired enough to dabble with a scene! So welcome to an Ahuska who still wound up adopted into Mandalorian life, but has not forgotten/repressed her early years. Rather than their usual easy friendship, she and Fynta wind up butting heads more often than not and bumping into one another more than either would like. Apologies if I’ve gotten Fynta totally wrong, I will put up a disclaimer that I’m throwing this out here without any sort of proofing from Cinlat so she gets the final call as to the authenticity of this scene! I’ve also borrowed @askshivanulegacy’s Blakk for the ride, I think I needed a little cathartic fluff to counterbalance all the fluff-gone-wrong happening elsewhere hahahaha.]

‘Not on My Watch’

“I don’t know why you won’t just let me take a speeder…”

Ahuska lifted a hand to cut him off, raising a finger and shaking her head with a smile. It was no secret that the young bothan was soft for this particular Imperial Agent, even if her clanmates were quick to remind her that no self respecting human Kaas citizen would pursue anything more than a functional work relationship with her, a rudderless, stable-working alien.

She chose not to listen to what her clanmates had to say.

“Because a speeder won’t pull back when it feels the ice getting too thin or warn you when you cross a wampa’s path, that’s why.”

Cipher Blakk rolled his eyes and pulled the zipper of his insulated parka higher, but it still wasn’t enough to keep his face properly protected from the frankly absurd level of chill. “It’s not as though I plan to park on an ice sheet…”

“Uh huh, and you’ll know exactly what’s under the two inch layer of snow that’s just fallen…”

He huffed, and she laughed, opening the stall door against which she was leaning to lead out the young tauntaun buck she already had saddled and haltered. “Quit fretting. Thunder here is a solid ride and a soft touch, he won’t give you any problems, and I’d trust him over any autopilot to get you safely back to base if something goes wrong.” Blakk felt some unexpected warmth rise in his cheeks, and while he wondered for the thousandth time why she cared so much that he got back safely, the buck lowered his head to snuffle through Ahuska’s hair. She raised a hand to give the tauntaun a firm rub on the cheek and horn. “Yeah, you’re a good boy aren’t you? You’ll be good for the Empire’s elite, won’t you? Won’t you my good soft woolly buddy…”

Ahuska’s ears flicked at the same moment as Thunder’s twitched, and a heartbeat later Blakk’s head turned as well, hearing the heavy rasp of an iron gate lifting.

Ahuska had been stationed on the remote Hoth outpost for the last month and a half, more than enough time to get to know the sound of every latch and door in the stables, and the animals that spent their lives here knew them even better. Her sky blue eyes turned to ice as she squinted, staring down into the lower level. “Who… oh.”

Her lips turned to a tight, flat line as she recognised the figure down below, and the coolness in her expression was enough to prompt Blakk to lift a brow. “Ahh, is something the matter…?”

“We’ll see. What is she… oh, oh no, no no no…”

The Cipher suddenly found himself with a set of reins thrust into his hands, with Ahuska taking the liberty of closing his fingers around them and squeezing tight. “What… what are you…?”

“Hold him. Hold him tight and don’t let go for a second, distract him with this if you can…” She shoved a pinkish rock of some sort toward him, and with his hands full he was forced to stoop and hold it under his chin, expression nothing short of bewildered.

“I don’t… oh, gods no,” Blakk had the profound discomfort of realising then that it was a block of salt, as Thunder pressed forward with an eager little warble and began to lick at it. He made a tiny sound of dismay. “Ahuska…!”

But she was already gone, not even sticking around to have a snigger at his predicament, darting down the stairwell rather than waiting on one of the stocklifts. “Oi! Oi, di’kut, what’n Kad’s name do you think you’re doing---!!”

The object of Ahuska’s anger turned, unnaturally blue eyes flashing with irritation, and then immediately turned back to the stall door she’d been about to open.

“Don’t you dare touch that! Who the hell authorized you to be down here and what the shab d’you think you’re doing opening straight up into the yards?” Rather than heading straight toward the Sith, Ahuska veered to the far wall where a harsh wind blustered through the now gaping entry to the outdoor paddocks, and slammed her fist against a set of controls.

“This animal is… Shen-Four-Seven, isn’t it?” Fynta Wolfe, Assassin for Sith Intelligence and Infiltration, glared at the Bothan stablekeep who stood firm in the gateway, as though she could somehow block her passage while the heavy gate groaned back shut. She cut a strong silhouette against the glaring white world outside, framed with reflected light and fluttering snowflakes.

“Star, yeah, that’s her.” Ahuska’s tone was curt. She didn’t enjoy dealing with Fynta any more than she explicitly had to. Never mind that the Sith knew far more about her than Ahuska was comfortable with, but the fact that Fynta thought she could just slip on some beskar and mingle amongst the clans as though she weren’t an out-and-out Sith grated at her terribly. The nerves struck were just… a little too close to home.

“Then she’s the one I’ve been assigned while I’m on duty here. And since I’m not here to take riding lessons, I don’t see why I need to answer to you of all people, stablekeep.”

Ahuska bristled as the steel gate locked shut behind her, putting an abrupt halt to the chill wind. “Maybe ‘cause every last one of these animals has been assigned to me while I’m on duty here, and I don’t give a damn if you’re the Emperor himself, you don’t take one outside without my say-so. Not a taun, not a vulp, not a gods-damned arctic womp-weasel! So you can take your fingers off that latch and let me do my job, or you can deal with the shab’la stampede you’re about to let loose. It’s stable master, by the way.”

Fynta knew Ahuska wasn’t the type to lie for the sake of a power trip. The bothan’s conviction and ferocity at this moment was enough to give her pause and slowly arch a brow, though her tone was flat and unconvinced. “Stampede. You mean the whole three out in the main yard.”

“Mmm.” Ahuska’s tone was equally flat, but there was something smug about the way she lifted her chin and stared down the bridge of her muzzle toward the Sith. “Those three first, if Thunder up on the balcony doesn’t fling himself over to beat them to it.” She gestured upward and over her shoulder with a thumb, toward where Blakk diligently kept a firm but wary hold of the tauntaun buck Ahuska had left in his care. The agent swiftly averted his gaze when he realised attention had momentarily turned his way. “Then the seven in the exercise yards ‘cause let’s face it, those fences aren’t gonna stop a buck in rut, and maybe the dozen in the outer…”

“Excuse me?”

“Excuse what?”

“A buck in rut?”

“I said what I said. I know it doesn’t look much like the seasons change here on Hoth, but believe me, there are seasons, and we’re in the thick of one right now. Your little Star there…” Ahuska dipped her head toward the stall door that Fynta remained precariously close to opening, though to her credit her fingers were looser on the handle than they had been moments before. “Is a very, very appealing little lady at the moment. She gets lead out through the back to be worked in the yards on the south ridge or not at all, and when she’s being groomed and treated in here this gate…” She slapped the metal surface behind her with the back of her hand. “Stays shut! I wouldn’t even recommend her for a mission today or tomorrow unless you were absolutely certain of no wild herds en route and let’s face it, you can never be certain of that…”

Fynta hadn’t exactly paled, but she was definitely looking less confident about taking her assigned mount out onto the slopes. She found herself feeling unwittingly grateful that the blasted bothan had been here to intercept her, and then an equal measure of furious at herself for feeling grateful at all. “Alright, alright, fierfek, just get me a more suitable animal ready as soon as you can, I’ve wasted enough time here already…”

“Of course, my Lord,” Ahuska’s grin was far too toothy, her flourished salute and bow far too exaggerated to be genuine. She enjoyed watching Fynta bite back her seething a little too much. “And let me know what shebs-for-brains gave you Star to begin with so I can have some words.”

“I’ll try to find out,” Fynta lied. No way in hell was she going to let Ahuska know that, in a bid to get herself in and out of Hoth as swiftly as possible, she might have forged a signature or two on a requisition document here and there, and arbitrarily assigned the tauntaun to herself. She straightened, stepping away from the stall, and stared Ahuska squarely in the eye. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Don’t keep me waiting.”

She didn’t give Ahuska the opportunity to respond, making her way smartly off down a corridor. The bothan might come across as meek as a runt nerf calf most of the time, but Force be damned if she didn’t find a spine and a half where her animals were concerned. Fynta couldn’t decide whether she was impressed or irritated, and just found herself hoping that Ahuska would be able to find the same amount of backbone if anyone ever pressed her about matters that remained better left unspoken.

She really didn’t want to see another decent Mandalorian having their arm twisted into Imperial service.

Ahuska, meanwhile, had every intention of keeping Fynta waiting; she had another Agent of the Empire to finish dealing with first, and she wasn’t going to rush seeing Blakk and Thunder off soundly for the sake of a single agitated Sith. Her hackles were already smooth and the set of her ears fully relaxed by the time she made it back to the upper level, though the way Blakk’s wide-eyed gaze settled on her when she flashed him a grin threatened to dishevel her all over again.

“Didn’t give you any trouble, did he?”

“No, you were great- I mean he, he was great. Thunder was… great. Perfect. No trouble.”

Ahuska might have plenty of backbone when it mattered, but that didn’t stop certain moments making her utterly weak. She coughed into her hand, glancing aside as she took back the reins and returned the remains of the salt lick to her pocket. “Ahh, uh, right, good. Good! Where have you got your gear then? Better get him all loaded up for you.”

---

[And now a bonus for everyone who got this far, hahaha, have some zipped up Hoth geared little Imperials. Ahuska thinks they’re both ridiculous for complaining so much about the cold.]

58 notes · View notes

readyplayerhobi · 4 years

Text

Flower | 34

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Smut, fluff

; Warnings: Anal sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, protected sex

; Word Count: 4.1k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: The final smut chapter of Flower! It’s not too long, and probably not as hot as you’d anticipate but I hope you all enjoy it anyway lol please reblog if you do and let me know what you think :D I mean...I know it’s smut so it’s going to be hard to actually talk about it but still, I like to hear what you think about Flower. I haven’t proof read cos I only finished this about...fifteen minutes ago lol

; Flower Masterpost

“Ahh, Hoseok.” You whispered eyes tightly closed as a particularly hard thrust from him has your body jerking up the bed slightly more. Tightening around him without even realising it, he responds with a quiet moan of his own and you smile, running your hand along his back to play with the short hair on his neck.

It makes him shudder, his whole body quivering above you and goosebumps rise on his arms. He was surprisingly ticklish, so it came as no surprise that even in the middle of sex he ended up giggling from the sensation. Opening your eyes to watch him, you bit your lip in amusement at the sight of his beautiful smile.

His response to that was just a roll of his hips that had you gasping, pleasure shooting through your body. Almost two-and-a-half years together and sex still wasn’t boring or dull with him. You weren’t sure if it was because you were madly in love with him or if it was just because he was good at sex. All you did know was that you enjoyed it a lot.

“Do we have to do it? Can’t we just keep going with this?” The question makes Hoseok pause in his movements, shifting until he could look at you clearly without causing himself any strain. Brow furrowing, his lips twist in confusion and you have to bite back the urge to poke at them.

“I mean...we don’t have to do it. If you’re not comfortable with it then we won’t do it. Just finish off like this. I will point out that this is your fantasy though.” A sigh leaves you at that, causing you to nod before you rub at your face. Hoseok doesn’t move, just staying where he is and watching you.

“I know, I know. You’re right. And we’ve already prepped. I just...what if something goes wrong? Or it hurts? You’re not small and...you know.” Your voice has a whine to it, causing him to smile. Or try to hide his smile, but it doesn’t work.

Tracing your fingers along his the tattoos on his chest, you waited for him to comfort you. You’d never really thought of yourself as a needy person before, but you found it nice to have Hoseok reassuring you. It wasn’t necessary, but you got the feeling that Hoseok liked to do it as well. Probably liked the feeling of being wanted.

His response is to push himself up with a grunt, the muscles of his torso working in a way that had you clenching around him. Until he slipped out of you, his cock glistening with your wetness and the lube he’d used earlier. Thanks to his vasectomy a few months ago, the two of you had decided to forego the use of condoms during sex now.

There was a pack in the drawers just in case it was needed, like the situation that was soon about to begin, but otherwise, you both thought it was just a waste of money. You’d gotten tested and Hoseok officially had no sperm showing in his semen, so he couldn’t get you pregnant.

It also helped that him orgasming in you had been one of your fantasies that you’d wanted to experience. You hadn’t been disappointed, even if it felt slightly gross from how wet and thick his cum was in comparison to...well anything else that had been there. Still, you’d enjoyed it. And the look in Hoseok’s eyes when he’d seen it the first time had been pleasing.

There weren’t many things that you’d been able to be the first of for Hoseok.

You still weren’t entirely used to seeing his cock bare though, and it was oddly arousing. Was that normal? Or was it just because you were mid-sex and you found everything about him ridiculously attractive right now? The way his skin contrasted against his colourful tattoos and how each heavy breath made the definition of his stomach more obvious.

It was only when Hoseok gently trailed his fingers along your inner thigh, tapping occasionally with a bemused grin on his face that you realise you’d become way too invested in checking him out. Not that he was opposed to it if the twitching of his cock had anything to say about it.

“Oh, hey, there she is. Back with me. You had that lusty look in your eyes,” Smirking, he rests a hand on your knee and rubs at it almost reassuringly. “Right, serious talk. I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable or happy with. So if you’re still too worried then we don’t do it. I’m perfectly fine no matter what.”

Body heating in embarrassment, you squirmed a little and looked away from his intense gaze. His lips were a little swollen and flushed in colour from the earlier kissing and gentle biting, made even more enticing when his tongue swipes across them.

“No, no, I want to try. You’re right, it’s my fantasy. I’m just...worried. You know me.”

“I do know you, which is why I know that you’re probably thinking about this too much. I know that you’ve researched extensively on how to do it safely, on how to try and do it cleanly as well. We’ve prepped as well as we can, you’re pretty comfortable with where we’ve got to. If you’re unhappy then just tell me, okay? Trust me, I’ll stop.” Staring into his dark eyes, you felt his care so strongly.

It helped to soothe the worry in your soul, to let you know that you were in capable hands. You did trust him. More than anyone else in the world right now. The very fact he was knelt there, with your naked body on full display for him and there were almost no worries about your appearance going through your head was proof enough.

There were other worries this time though.

“But what if there’s...you know. Like when you’re in there. What if you get...stuff on you?” Hoseok sighs softly, it’s almost not audible but you heard it. The knot in your stomach was still tight, but you don’t feel embarrassed.

“Meeps, I’m going to be in your asshole. I mean...it’s not made for a dick, it’s a poop chute. So if I happen to get some on my dick then I do, I can’t complain about it. It’s what I get for going in there. Please don’t stress over it.” He’s stroking along your thigh, each movement reinforcing that he cares for you and only has you in mind.

“You promise?”

“I promise. Tell me if you’re uncomfortable at any point, please. Go straight to red if you’re hurting. I’d rather stop if it’s hurting a lot, especially as it’s your ass. Probably not a good sign.” Frowning slightly, you reach out for his hand and half link your fingers together.

“You won’t stop completely right? If I say red then we can just do normal sex?” The last, and only time, you’d ever called out red to him had been during your last experimentation with fantasies and kinks. You’d wanted to know whether you’d enjoy being tied and blindfolded during sex and Hoseok had obliged.

Only you’d discovered that having your hands tied to the bedframe so you couldn’t move properly combined with being unable to see had triggered a huge panic attack. All you’d been able to focus on was that you were exposed, with all the parts you didn’t like being visible and you couldn’t see a thing. Even though Hoseok had been right there, you hadn’t been able to push past your fear that he might just leave you in that compromising position and you’d been begging him to let you go, spitting out ‘red’ over and over until you were free.

Hoseok hadn’t re-engaged in sex after that time, instead just focusing on coddling you and making sure that you were okay. Your vehement reaction had convinced you both that while you were okay with being either tied or blindfolded, you couldn’t cope with them both.

It made you feel too vulnerable, even with Hoseok.

But you didn’t want him to stop completely this time. If you were uncomfortable or hurting from the anal then you just wanted him to stop and have normal sex with you. There was no reason in your eyes for the fun to stop just because something had been a bust. Not this time.

“If you’re okay with continuing, then yeah. We’ll just do it normally. But only if you’re comfortable with it, alright? You have to be honest.” His index finger on his free hand is gesturing to you, his expression stern and you can’t help but smile as you nod. It was hard to take him entirely seriously when he was naked as the day he was born.

“I promise. We should do it. Now, while I’m feeling a little confident. Do we need to do anything else?” He’d already spent a good half an hour earlier getting your ass ready for him; using a small range of butt plugs that increased in size to try and make it as easy as possible for you. You figured with the size of the last one he’d used on you that you could probably take him. He wasn’t small but he also wasn’t a porn star either, thankfully.

“You sure? I think you’ll be good, just let me know.” Nodding to him, you watch as he grabs the foil packet from the bedside table and carefully rolls the condom on. Neither of you wanted this particular sex act to be bare and you’d forgotten how weirdly attractive it was to watch him put one on.

Next, the bottle of lube was used to squirt generous amounts onto his cock. One large hand, the fingers long and elegant, coats it evenly along his shaft in firm strokes. You knew that you were incredibly horny right now because just the sight of it had you shivering, a quiet moan leaving you without meaning to.

“It’s really hot when you jerk yourself off.” It’s only when Hoseok laughs that you realise you’ve just said that out loud. But it’s a testament to how much you’ve grown into your personality with Hoseok that you don’t feel embarrassed about it. Instead, you just give him a bold look with raised brows that has him grinning, looking away from you first.

“You’ve mentioned that a few times.” He’s muttering it though, his cheeks flushed with rose from shyness now and not from anything sexual. It pleases you though that he doesn’t stop his movement, instead gripping himself a little firmer and almost showing off with each slow stroke.

Biting your lip, you sighed to yourself as you watched him for a few seconds. Each move of his arm had the muscles in his bicep flexing, the weights he’d been lifting at the gym lately making themselves well known beneath the colourful tattoos. Your boyfriend was a masterpiece of nature who had only been improved with human talent and skill.

The knowledge that it was all yours was more than a little heady, and suddenly your worries dissipated a little as you whined at him.

“Hobi...come on, please.”

Now it’s his turn to chew on his lip, considering you carefully before shuffling himself a little forward. His thigh muscles tighten from the movement and his position, looking thicker than normal and you whine softly. Would you ever get to a point where you didn’t consider this man to be the most attractive person in the world?

The tip of his cock rubs against your clit slowly, sending sparks of pleasure through you. Sighing, you lift your hips in an attempt to encourage him downwards. It surprises you how much you want him there, despite your earlier worries. But you hadn’t hated the prep earlier, hadn’t loved it either but this was something you;’d always wanted to try.

And something you’d always been way too embarrassed to ask for. Hence why it had taken you almost two and a half years to finally experiment with this with Hoseok. You trusted him though. Trusted him to take his time and most importantly, to take care of you and love you.

“If it hurts-”

“Yes, yes, if it hurts then I’ll let you know. Just...go slow, yeah?” Nodding at you, he finally moves down until he’s pressing against your asshole. There’s resistance to him as he pushes, an uncomfortable sensation that has you wincing slightly. The toys you both had didn’t quite go up to his size, so there was still a tiny bit more stretching to do, but you’d felt that you could cope with it pretty well.

Still, it’s not the most pleasant feeling and you let out a breath of air in a rush, eyes widening as you feel a burning sensation when he finally manages to start entering you. A deep groan escapes you as he keeps going, the blunt head of his cock the biggest part of him at the moment and you know that once that’s in, it should be a little better.

It’s just getting there.

Hoseok uses his free hand to rub your stomach gently, the movement something that would’ve horrified you years ago but that is reassuring now. Like you can feel comfort from the touch rather than revulsion and horror.

“Hey, hey, you okay?”

Nodding to him, you take a deep breath to try and regulate yourself. It’s more discomfort than pain right now, thankfully, but you just try to relax. You’d read plenty of sites that said relaxing would help to make it a smoother experience, and the last thing you wanted was to cause yourself unnecessary pain.

“Yeah, yeah. Just...go slow, ya know? It’s a little burning but I think you can push a bit more. Just...slow.” He acknowledges your words with a smile, moving to grasp your hand with his while he moves a little deeper. There’s an almost painful sensation that has you whimpering out loud but then the tip of him suddenly manages to make it past and an inch or so of him accidentally slips in too.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m sorry.” He blurts out, looking a little panicked as you squeeze his hand tight without even realising. Thankfully, he’s paused and you take a few deep breaths, trying to centre yourself as you let them back out slowly. After a solid minute or so, you finally feel yourself relax once more and smile at him.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s good, you’re in. Just...give me another minute or so, I’ll let you know when you can move again. Slow, still slow.”

“Yeah, yeah of course. Did I hurt you?” You know he’s not going to let go of this anytime soon, so you squeeze his hand softly.

“A little, but we both knew it wasn’t going to be sunshine, right? Like you said...it’s not meant to take a dick.” He snorts at that, the movement causing him to jerk ever so slightly inside you. There's another burn but it’s more manageable now, the sensation not painful anymore and you give him another smile of encouragement.

“Okay, try a bit more.” This continues for probably ten minutes, Hoseok going as slow as humanly possible. To the point that you’re worried his erection might be becoming painful from how long he’s had it. But the two of you work together, slowly moving until you finally feel comfortable enough to start having some form of sex.

Though not the kind you normally have, you doubt you could handle him going fast right now. But there was something strangely erotic about having him somewhere that was still considered a little taboo. And you liked the feeling of him there. It wasn’t pleasurable obviously, but you were enjoying it more than you’d thought that you would.

Reaching down between you both, your fingertips found your clit with relative ease and you let out a small gasp as pleasure burst inside you. The sensation made your hips jerk upwards, causing his cock to slide out a little and your gasp turned into a moan quickly.

Wow, okay. That wasn’t expected. Brows rising, you glance down before looking at Hoseok in surprise.

“That felt good. Like...better than I expected.” Now Hoseok looks intrigued, glancing down to where his cock was buried inside your ass to your fingers which are lazily rubbing at your clit. Pursing his lips, he looks at you with an intrigued expression with more than a hint of mischief before pushing his hips forward slowly.

Inch by inch, his cock slides back into you, the lube he’d added making his movement smooth. The intense way he stares into your eyes has you inhaling sharply, his movements achingly slow but just enough to make you shudder and keen.

“Oh...oh, you like that,” Hoseok murmurs, lips quirked into a smirk as he watches you play with yourself in fascination. “Meeps...do you like getting it in the ass?”

He’s teasing you, the light tone to his voice telling you so, but you just nod your head. Closing your eyes, you keep up the same rhythm on the swollen bundle of nerves between your legs, occasionally pausing to add more of your sticky excitement to make it smoother. Hoseok is right, and it kind of surprises you.

You like getting anal. Even though you’d been the one to want to try it with him, with it being your fantasy, you hadn’t expected anything from it. Maybe just an okay experience that you’d do again occasionally with him if he wanted it, but you genuinely liked this.

The actual act itself didn’t feel as good as vaginal obviously, but there was something that was causing you to get a different kind of pleasure. Almost like the very knowledge that you were having it was making it feel so much better than you’d anticipated.

Which is why you’re beyond surprised when the build-up of pleasure seems to be slow at first but then it bubbles over quickly, a pressure you hadn’t even realised was there bursting and ricocheting through your body violently. Moaning loudly, each sound almost guttural from how intense the orgasm was.

It’s bizarrely helped by the sensation of Hoseok moving in you, his strokes still slow and steady. Even though you know logically that you’re not getting any pleasure from there, if anything there’s still that uncomfortable sensation, it almost seems to intensify the sparks inside you.

To the point that your body almost rises off the bed, back bowing violently while your thighs tighten around Hoseok’s waist and your toes curl. You can’t ever remember an orgasm this intense, which is odd as you get the best ones when you have some vaginal penetration as well. But this seems to get you going.

By the time it finally finishes, it seems to go on far longer than normal, you’re left exhausted on the bed. Limbs twitching while your chest heaves for breath, you don’t see the dumbstruck way Hoseok stares at you.

“Did you just...after...I mean...I barely did anything!” He finally exclaims, causing you to open your eyes and watch him lazily. “You really just came after like...a few minutes of me in your ass and a bit of clit action! I can be in your pussy for half an hour and nothing happens!”

You can tell he’s not angry or annoyed, instead more amazed. It makes you giggle at him, the endorphins rushing through your body after a good orgasm making you feel even more loving towards him. Reaching forwards, you tug him down until he’s almost laid on top of you, his cock shifting inside you as he moves but not slipping out.

“Oh...oh, someone’s being loving too. Damn meeps, you like getting it in the ass, huh?” Humming, you ran your fingers through his hair repeatedly and pressed kisses to his shoulder. A graze of your teeth on the soft skin there has him shivering, hips jutting forward automatically and you sigh in contentment as he moans.

“Your turn,” Whispering into his ear, you trail your nose along his cheek before kissing the strong line of his jaw. “Probably not going to enjoy this as much but I want you to feel good.”

Hoseok nods slightly, a strangled gasp leaving him when you experimentally squeeze around him. It’s not comfortable to have him thrusting when you do that so you relax again, encouraging him to start a very slow and steady rhythm. Not nearly as fast as you both would normally enjoy, but it’s as much as you can handle without it getting painful or too uncomfortable.

So you try and help in other ways, dragging your nails down his back and playing with the small hairs on the back of his neck. Tiny nibbles of his jaw before pulling him into a deep kiss, shifting slightly to make the position a little better for you.

It works, mainly because you know all the little spots that do it for Hoseok. Which is why it’s only minutes after that he’s pressing into you, his face pushed into your neck hard as he lets a loud grunt while his body quakes above you. Smiling, you kiss his shoulder and contemplate for a moment how different it feels to have him orgasming there instead of in your pussy.

You can still feel his cock jerk inside you with each spasm, ejaculating into the condom. It’s not like normal though, like the sensations are almost dulled. But it’s still hot as hell and you feel a little pride, grinning as you kiss along his jaw and murmur softly to him.

It’s probably silly, but you always feel an intense amount of pride every time Hoseok cums in you. Almost like you’re proud of the fact he found you so attractive that you could satisfy him sexually. Although he probably didn’t need that much to get going, it was still a boost to your confidence.

Finally, he shifts until he can look at you properly. There’s exhaustion written all over his face but it’s bad, instead, it’s that exhaustion from a good time. He has that lazy look in his eyes, that one he always gets after a good orgasm.

“Good?”

“Good. You?”

“Good. I mean, I don’t wanna do this every day but...I want to do it again. Did it feel different?” He snorts, letting his weight rest on you for a moment. It’s heavy and a little stifling from the heat but you relish it, wrapping your arms around him. If it was weird to be so affectionate after anal sex then so be it, he’d given you a damn good orgasm so he deserved it.

“I mean...I liked it. Felt tighter but only really at your actual ass, after that, it’s kinda weird. I prefer your pussy, for definite. But I’m down for this more, especially after how hard you came. Damn, who’d have thought my shy, awkward girlfriend would be so into that?” He pokes your side gently, causing you to smile.

“Surprising to me too. Anyway, come on, let’s go clean up. I don’t even wanna know what it looks like so...I’m gonna close my eyes and you can go get rid of the condom. Then we’ll shower, get all nice and clean.” Hoseok hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Okay, sounds good. Love you.” Smiling as you close your eyes, you gently poke his shoulder in response. A soft chuff of laughter lets you know he understands before he’s pulling out carefully, a wince on your face until he’s out.

“Do you need anything? Need me to go anything?”

“No, it’s okay. Just...go, start the shower. I’ll be there soon. I enjoyed it.” He acknowledges you quietly before getting up off the bed. There’s the sound of him peeling off the condom carefully before he puts it back into the foil but you don’t bother to move. Instead, you lay there for a moment with that boneless contentment that comes from a good orgasm and some good sex. It constantly amazed you that you’d come this far in yourself, feeling confident enough to open up about the fantasies you wanted to do.

Sighing happily, you can’t help but snort as you hear Hoseok yelp from the bathroom.

“Kasumi! No! My dick is not a toy, ow!”

356 notes · View notes

plush-rabbit · 3 years

Text

Faded Vermillion

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: I hope I did this well! I think I've only written for Hawks like a handful of times- two of which I like while the others I’m like ahh,,, words so I hope you enjoy this! (Hawks is super interesting but Twice(ಥ﹏ಥ))

Keigo has eyes closed and the room is scented in mahogany, deep and musky that fills his senses and makes his head hurt. It’s heavy and strong, makes his eyes burn and even long after the candle has been snuffed out. The smoke once thick had waved across the room and now it has thinned and now a faint scent of the past lingers.

You’ve been growing more agitated, cracking at your knuckles, flapping your hands side to side with a grimace on your face, rolling your shoulders constantly, hissing when the stutter and pull, the muscles tight and painful from hours hunched over doing who knows what. You don’t seem to tell him- you’re quieter around him, biting your bottom lip and tugging on your hair, keeping your lips sealed about your latest project. All he knows is that you need help carrying certain metals and shopping alone for other supplies. It goes on for many days, minutes bleeding into hours as he lays on the couch, resting on his stomach, chin tucked above his arms and he’s alone in the shared home, waiting for you to return.

There’s an ugly thought in Keigo’s mind- a thought that started off as something as a whisper but with each second spent away from you, it grows louder and louder, making him clamp his palms over his ears, feeling as if blood will pool and seep between his fingers and he’s on the ground, kneeling and crying and alone. He’s alone and the thoughts keep screaming that you’re with someone else- that you aren’t with him because you’ve lost interest. He no longer has his wings; he can no longer protect you and he is no longer worthy of being loved by you.

He’s on the ground with aching knees, knees that dig into the floors and hurt him, hands that crush the sides of his head and he thinks he’s crying, that he’s close to it at least, and his back will twitch, muscles spasming and he’ll wait for the red curtain to fall, to conceal him and let him regain his composure but the cool air of the shared home still chills him, brushing lightly at his soft hair and he realizes that he’s out in the open. He’s kneeled on your kitchen floor, eyes that grow wide with frantic panic only to settle when he hears the door click open. And then the next thing he knows, he’s in your arms, hands rubbing under his shirt as you call out his name, as you whisper lovingly into his ear, “Keigo.”

“Keigo,” you whisper, rubbing your head along the side of his, “Keigo, what happened? Are you okay?”

He’s in your arms. You cradle him, peck under his eyes and he can feel your hands flutter where his wings used to be, where they would adorn him and flutter. He feels silly. He feels like a child whose toy was lost, the comfort object that was misplaced, stolen from his embrace and tossed into a crevice. But he isn’t a child. He’s a man who lost his quirk and feared that you would leave him. He nuzzles into your shoulder, letting his hands run over your back, down the space where his wings would be, between his shoulder blades and he presses his hands down, fingers kneading into the muscles that lay under your skin and clothes.

“You��ve been stressed lately,” he mutters, tilting his head and his lips brush over your neck, feeling the pulse quicken under his lips. “Working yourself down to the bone.” You snort and he smiles softly, gaze softening, brows furrowing into a pained expression. “You free tonight? I was thinking we could have a date night.” He shudders when your fingers graze against scarring that juts puts his blades, curving down his spine and leaving him in chills. “Here, obviously. I don’t-”

“I’d love to Keigo,” you whisper, pulling away from him, hands leaving the warmth of his back and coming to cradle his face. “Do you want to cook or-”

“Cook.” He smiles sweetly and pecks at your nose. “I’ve missed your cooking, you know.” He rises with a grunt, knees aching and legs heavy and extends a hand out to you, giving you a perfect grin, playful and overly sweet as you take his hand, wrapping your hand around his and stumbling into his chest when he pulls you up. “I’ll even help,” he coos, brows rising and grin widening into something that stretches too wide.

Your laugh is warm against him and he swallows nervously, his pulse quickening for a second until it’s controlled, and his arms wrap around you, tensing and squeezing your frame against him. “Okay,” you nod, your hands at his side. “Look and see what we have while I put my supplies away and then we can start cooking.” You pull away from him and his chest aches, lungs that have been stolen of all oxygen, and all he can do is smile. Your hands slide and pat him lovingly on the chest. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Dinner is a mess. Or the attempt at dinner was a mess. He doesn’t know what happened. He doubts you do either. The smell of burnt food is in the air, the fire alarm still rings in his head and you’re on the couch, head in hands and back and chest heaving, and he can feel a pit in his stomach open and consume everything that he is.

You messed up. Left the food on for too long and now it burns and he stands alone in the kitchen. It was a simple mistake, one that you freaked out over. Once where your muscles tensed and jaw clenched and you let out a grunt and smacked your hand on the counter. You huffed and your face burned. He joked about it, trying to lighten the mood, but it came off flat, too forced and you picked up on it. He could hear the wheezing breaths that you made, the hands that twitched at your sides and eyes that began to turn glassy and he reached out to you, hand raised and then he felt it. A sharp pain that burned a hole in his scars, and spread outward, burning and tingling his skin, leaving him flinching and pressing his palm over the pink tinged scar, the fabric of his shirt scratching and prickling his skin. You stare at him with eyes that shine with fear, your breaths coming to a stop and then you left to sit on the couch and wallow in your shame.

He comes up to you with soft steps, hands fiddled and he sits next to you in silence. “The new project is certainly taking a toll, huh?” There’s no point to beat around the bush, to act coy until you decide to open up.

“It could be different reasons,” you say defiantly. He raises a thick brow and you’re quick to explain. “Long day. Long week. Bad day. Bad-”

“What’s the project?” He blinks slowly at the ground, letting his eyes come to a close. “I know you like things to be perfect but it’s giving you this much stress then-” He hears you take in a sharp breath and he stops talking.

“I’m making you new wings.” His heart stops, a quick second and his mind goes blank. He’s entirely numb, shoulder poised and his eyes are wide as they stare at you. “I-”

He shakes his head. “There’s no reason to-”

Your elbows rest on your thighs, hand knotted together where your chin rests and you stare at the dark screen, reflection peering into yours and your brows furrow, a frown tugging on your lips, mouth moving to form soundless words. “You miss your wings,” you voice softly. It isn’t a question; it’s a statement. One that you know well, one that is undoubtedly true. “I just-” you sniffle and he can’t look at you. “I just wanted to make you feel better but no matter what I did-” you take a deep breath and a shiver runs down his spine- “they always came out wrong,” you hiss. “They aren’t your wings. They’re like these awful-” your head tilts and lowers- “godforsaken replicas. They aren’t like yours.” He is unable to speak. His throat tightens and there’s a lump that makes it impossible to get a word out. “I just wanted to make you feel better but no matter how I look at them, they just aren’t yours.”

He licks at his lips, mouth parting open and closing, repeating the process but all it does is make him feel at a loss. Sad, golden eyes look at the floor, his hands in view with palms up and calloused fingers that curl and twitch involuntarily. He can’t deny your statement. He can’t even deny it to himself- he’s never dared to try, he just avoided it, did everything he could to take his mind off of his scarred back. He wished that he would start to bloom again, that feathers would appear and he would be able to take you flying again and hear the frightful, breathless laugh that filled the sky no matter how many times he took you for a ride.

“I do,” he admits and there’s a horrible gnawing at his throat to shut up, to close his mouth and just hold you- to say anything else as a distraction so he doesn’t have to face what he lost. He swallows the lump and he admits his truth. “I- I was wanted because of my quirk. I uh,” he chuckles and it comes out bitter, poison in his tongue that makes tears spring in his eyes, “I’m a- I was a dog on a leash. I- fuck,” he breathes out, laughing softly. “This is a lot harder than what I imagined. I uh,” he groans and he keeps his gaze fixated on the edge of a picture- one of you and him, vermillion serving as the background, solid and whole- he can feel a phantom flutter, ghosts of feathers that twitch and, that still stay still and hold their composure. “I don’t know how to word it,” he confesses, voice light and empty. “I just, I know that I miss my wings but-” his eyes dart to the screen where he sees you, faint trail marks- miniscule to the untrained eyes- decorate your face- “I’m not ready to talk about.” He watches as your shoulder slump in obvious disappointment. “Not now at least,” he says in a strained voice, “too fresh of a wound, you know.”

The emptiness is too much. He can’t say the words- even he hasn’t said them to himself. His back, once adorned by wings that were under his control, under a control where he was wanted, praised and molded, wings that had never belonged to him, wings that were sought after only to be controlled, have now been plucked. His back, once with vermillion wings that could touch the sun, have been ripped, they’ve been torn from his skin, burned and yanked, forced to their extent and he is now bare. His back is scarred, ornate scars that twist at the flesh, marking it in a lighter color, deepening his skin into a darker shade, scars that still burn with the pain, scars that sometimes make him forget that his wings are gone. He is bare. He misses his wings. He misses everything that came with them. The admiration, the love, the want. He is no longer wanted, thrown away like an old toy by the Commission. And he wants to tell you his fears. How he fears that one day you’ll cast him aside, how you’ll look at him and the hugs that hold him together will turn into a goodbye hug where he’ll have to see you part ways with him because he wasn’t enough. He can’t lose you. He won’t allow himself to tell you goodbye. He knows deep in his mind and heart that you would never cast him aside, that you’ll hold on to him until he’s breaking at the seams and even then, you’ll stitch him together- he’s seen you do it with old stuffed animal from your past, hands that remain still as you sew back your loved possession. As you fix what was once broken.

“I don’t want to be a project,” Keigo mutters. And his golden eyes meet yours, gold that has melted and now catches on his eyelashes makes everything just a bit too blurry for his liking. “I- I don’t want to be fixed- I just- I want to know that,” he struggles to have the words leave his throat, “I want to know that you won’t leave me.” He can’t handle it if you leave him. He has your love, he can’t have it taken away. He doesn’t have to be fixed, he just has to know that you’re still going to be there. That’s all he wants. “That’s what I want.” He’s been given free will before, been allowed to have choices that he’s wanted to make, but now, as he sits, body light, and eyes heavy, he wants to make one more choice, a choice that means more than you or him will ever know. He knows it’s selfish, he’s aware that neither of you can predict what can come, but he wants to pretend, wants to live in a fantasy that you won’t leave him.

“No more wings,” you breathe under your breath. He nods, shakily and sure of himself. “Keigo,” you call to him, hands reaching towards his and memories flash in his mind- hands that keep themselves open, that fist and close, that tug on black fabric and pound at the ground, that reach towards him with malicious intent and he stops breathing, sucks in a deep breath and exhales shakily as you cup his face and slide to the back his neck and he’s hiding himself on the crook of your neck, hands that fist the back of your shirt and he clings onto you, holding you tight like a lifeline, fear on his mind that if he were to let you go, you’d leave him.

His breath stutters as you slip your hands under his back, fingertips ghosting above and feeling the muscles twitch and strain. He whines and closes his eyes when you land on his scars that have healed. You run your hands over the soft tissue, soothing over the jagged repairs, the smoother lines a gentle brush under your fingertips, and they are asymmetrical. They do not mimic each other, they are different, no one line matching, pink and deeper hues running and coloring his back and he’s tender, holding onto you as you touch and ghost over where his wings once were. His scars are divine, etched into his skin in intricate lines, meeting and twisting into shapes that are touched lovingly so, without pity or the faint trace of disgust, touched with love and acceptance, softly and sweet and his name on your tongue is sweet and intoxicating.

#takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo #keigo x reader #hawks x reader #bnha imagines #keigo imagine #takami keigo imagines #maybe not exactly what you asked for but #yeah #so #here it is #headcanons out tomorrow #woo #not a fan of the title #changing it later #maybe

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secretobsessionstuff · 3 years

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I was just thinking about how sweet madix & riley, and alexi & micahs friendship. and it had me thinking....maybe would you write something where madix & riley are both laid up in bed with the stomach flu, riley being worse off. madix tries his best to comfort an emotional and sick riley, but it’s hard when he feels so bad himself. cue a quick phone call to alexi & micah to ask if they would mind bringing them a few supplies and perhaps some help. absolutely no pressure of course! <3

Ahh thank you so much for the lovely request! I’m really happy with this one :)

-----------------------------

Madix does not consider himself a sympathetic puker. That’s why when Riley threw up into the bucket for the third time that night, Madix knew it wasn’t empathy that made his own stomach turn.

Riley shivered and spat into the bucket, feeling horrendous and entirely sick of this stomach bug. No pun intended because he was in no mood to be making jokes. All day, his head had been either buried in a bucket or hovering over the toilet. Currently, he preferred the bucket because it allowed him to sit on the couch. It was nice to be able to lean against Madix and have his shoulders rubbed.

Swallowing a sudden wave of nausea, Madix handed Riley a cloth to wipe his mouth. Riley reached for it, but stopped mid-way. His throat bobbed as his face got even paler. The boy still had one more retch in him. Madix, seeing this, brought the bucket back to his lap. He turned his head to the side so as to not trigger his own belly anymore.

With nothing left in his stomach to throw up, Riley dry heaved. His whole body quivered against Madix from the force of it. He might also have been shaking from the sobs that racked his frame. “Madix…make it stop,” he begged, with snot and tears running down his face.

“Oh love, I’m sorry.” Under normal circumstances, Madix might have said that he would gladly take the pain for himself, but he guessed it would be redundant at this point.

Along with the sadness, Madix also guessed that Riley was getting frustrated with this virus. He hadn’t been able to eat anything all day without it coming back up. Then again, they didn’t have much food in the house that wouldn’t unsettle his stomach. They were running low on supplies, and Madix was running low on energy.

He started to suspect that perhaps Riley wasn’t the only victim of this illness when the same nausea hit his system. This was earlier that day when he was trying to get Riley to eat something, meanwhile the food that he put in his own stomach was sitting uneasily. The nausea kicked in then, and he stupidly decided not to upset his stomach anymore by drinking water. No one had been nagging at him to stay hydrated, but now he wished there could be. Riley was much too upset and sick to tell – not that Madix could blame him. Still, he had to tell Riley something, before he threw up right then and there. That would absolutely not make the situation better.

Riley groaned and took the cloth to wipe his mouth. He was indeed frustrated. “I still feel nauseous…” he mumbled while hugging his stomach. “I hate this.”

“Believe me,” Madix said without making eye contact, “I know how you feel.”

“What do you mean?”

Madix rubbed the back of his neck. “I uh…don’t feel so hot either.”

Riley’s eyes grew wide. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. Normally he could deal with Madix being sick if he was already sick himself. But the human brain is a clusterfuck of an organ, and sometimes it cannot be expected to act predictably. Sometimes your brain tells you that everything sucks, and that crying is the only solution, and that Madix being sick is the worst possible thing to happen right now. Who was going to take care of us?? How would we deal with a sick Madix while we’re sick?? Because apparently Riley’s brain thought of itself and Riley as two separate entities.

“Are you going to throw up?” Riley asked with an unsteady voice.

Madix immediately regretted telling Riley how he felt. He watched his boyfriend’s eyes grow ten sizes, and watched his chest heave frantically. He guessed the combination of having a fever and feeling terrible made the perfect recipe for panic.

Before Madix could lie about needing to throw up, Riley gagged into his hand. The emotions and nausea became too much, and his stomach was back at it again. Luckily Madix shoved the bucket under his chin just in time to catch the bitter yellow bile that spilled past his lips.

Without thinking about it, Madix stood up from the couch after handing over the bucket. Seeing the thick bile come from his boyfriend’s mouth was too much for his own stomach to handle. Saliva was quickly coating his tongue. “Ry, I have to…” he mumbled with a hand over his mouth. “…I’ll be right back.”

Madix felt bad for leaving Riley in the middle of vomiting, but he desperately needed to do the same. His legs led him to the bathroom where he fell to his knees in front of the toilet. The remnants of his lunch rushed up his throat and splattered into the bowl. A wet belch interrupted the stream, but was soon followed by another wave of vomit. Madix squeezed his eyes shut involuntarily, wetting his eyelashes with tears. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the rim.

His stomach gurgled loudly. He felt like the organ was getting revenge for being forced to wait so long. He wrapped his arms around his aching belly and moaned. It was hell, and now he knew how Riley truly felt. Madix couldn’t help but despair at the thought of going through the same things Riley had all morning. And he would need to do it alone.

In his hazy feverish state, Madix had a thought. The fact that his fried mind was able to come up with a thought was shocking, but there it was.

His phone! Where was his phone? He needed to make a call.

But first he needed to gag over the toilet bowl for another few minutes. For now, it seemed like his stomach just wanted to be an asshole and make him think that he was going to puke. The threat of puking never disappeared, but soon Madix got tired of waiting. And fuck, he could hear Riley calling to him from the living room. Riley’s voice sounded thick from having just brought up another sludge of bile.

Madix wanted to go to him, to rub his back and tell him that everything was going to be okay. But if Riley felt anything like how Madix was feeling, he didn’t think that anything would ever be okay. And guess what? What if Madix wanted someone to rub his back? He wanted someone to tell him that everything would be okay.

That’s when he remembered the call that he was going to make. The phone was in his pocket, but even that felt too far for him to reach. Slowly, Madix propped his back up against the tub and called Micah. He put it on speaker so that he didn’t have to hold the phone to his ear.

Micah answered on the first ring, but could only hear heavy breathing on the other end. “Madix? Are you there?

Madix finally got the energy to respond. He was weak. “Can you…come over?”

“Madix? I can’t hear you very well. You sound all echo-ish.” Micah’s voice was so loud as it reverberated in the bathroom. “Are you okay?”

“No ‘m really sick. Riley too.” Madix felt sweat dripping down his forehead. “Please come over.” He hoped that Micah could understand his messy speech.

There was ruffling on Micah’s end before, “oh okay, okay. Just hang tight. We’ll be right there.”

“Wait…Bring stuff.”

“Bring stuff?”

“We’re…dehy…” he was going to say ‘dehydrated’ but there were some technical difficulties in his brain. The hardware was overheating. He found a solution. “…thirsty.”

…

With some deductive skills, Micah had a pretty good guess for what was ailing his friends. The echo of the phone call easily told him that Madix was in a bathroom. Dehydration plus camping out in a bathroom were not hard puzzle pieces to fit together.

He and Alexi stopped by the store for Gatorade, soup, and anything else needed to fight a stomach virus. While Alexi debated over which flavour of sport drink to get, Micah rushed him along. “Just pick one! Madix sounded horrible on the phone.”

“What if they don’t like the yellow kind?”

“Oh my god, let’s just go!”

“Fine…” Alexi muttered under his breath, “but if they hate it, it’s your fault.”

Micah accepted full responsibility if they didn’t like the drink, and raced for the checkout. They threw the bags into the car and off they went to help their friends once again.

Upon entering, they immediately found Riley sleeping on the couch with the bucket on the floor. It was still full of bile because clearly neither of the sick boys had the energy to clean it.

While Alexi placed the groceries in the kitchen and began to open the drinks, Micah crouched by Riley’s head. His skin was deathly pale. Micah woke him up with a light shake.

Riley jumped a little as he awoke from his restless sleep. He rubbed his eyes, not understanding what he was seeing. He could swear that Micah was in his house for some reason. And he was right. “Micah?”

“Hey Ry. How are you feeling?”

Riley looked around and spotted Alexi as well. His brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“Madix called us,” Alexi answered while carrying over a bottle of Gatorade. “Can you sit up and take a sip of this for me?”

Riley did sit up and accepted the bottle. His mouth was insanely dry, but that’s not what he cared about in that moment. “Oh my god Madix. Go help him!” He looked worriedly between the two boys who just showed up. “I know he’s been throwing up in the bathroom, but I just – I couldn’t… I –”

“Shh, slow down,” Micah said softly. “It’s not your fault. I’ll go check on him right now.” As he left, Micah heard Riley ask if they brought any other colour of Gatorade. Yellow wasn’t his favourite.

Micah was scared that he was going to find Madix passed out in a puddle of his own vomit. That was not the case. He found Madix drenched in sweat, not passed out but barely lucid. Madix didn’t even react when Micah came into the bathroom. His head was resting on the toilet seat and it looked like he was fighting another wave of nausea. The bowl was full of half-digested stomach contents. Madix whimpered quietly to himself.

Micah slowly sat down, and immediately put his hand on Madix’s damp back. “Oh Maddy, look at you.” The heat from his back was astounding.

Madix did not open his eyes, but his shoulders lost a bit of their tension. “Micah?”

“Yeah, I’m here.” Micah’s chest ached when the boy reached out his hand to hold onto him. He was usually only very touchy with Alexi, but Madix looked like he needed it to survive. Micah scooted closer and brushed a hand over Madix’s cheek. Of course, he found it burning. Normally, Micah would feel very awkward touching a friend’s face but there was something about Madix’s desperation that made it okay. The way Madix leaned entirely into the touch made Micah forget about any apprehensions.

Madix squinted from the bright light. He hadn’t realized how long his eyes had been closed for. He also hadn’t realized how much he needed the presence of someone else. It was like drowning in dark water. No one around to pull him from the waves that kept pushing him under. No one to pierce the thick darkness where he found himself.

Then suddenly a lifeline.

A choked sob came from Madix. “I feel horrible, Micah. I can’t stop throwing up.”

“I know, I know.” Micah rubbed his back harder. He tried to hold back his own emotions. He had never seen Madix this vulnerable.

“I – I couldn’t…. st-stay with Riley.” Tears streaked down Madix’s face as he cried and struggled to catch his breath. “It hurts…my belly.”

Micah didn’t say anything. He just continued to let Madix know he was there. He wanted to let Madix be completely selfish for once in his life, God knows he deserves it.

If Madix were lucid enough to hear what he was saying, he would have told himself to stop making such a big deal about a little stomach-ache. The good news was that he wasn’t lucid enough, and this provided him with the outlet he needed. Somehow, his head found Micah’s shoulder and he rested it there while he feverishly rambled.

Micah let this go one for as long as he could, but he had to stop it eventually. Madix was hiccupping and crying, and generally working himself up to the point of making himself sick all over again. When the hiccupping turned into empty heaves, Micah spoke. “Okay, hon, you have to let yourself breathe. Can you breathe with me?”

And Micah took a long inhale, making sure that Madix did the same. Through sniffles and hiccups, he copied the rise and fall of Micah’s chest. “That’s it, Mads. Again.”

The two of them took another deep breath in, and Madix’s breathing slowly became less shaky. Micah smiled at the progress. “That’s it, Madix. Everything is going to be okay.”

#emeto #emetophilia #emeto fic #stomach flu #sickfic #stomach bug #multiple sickees #fever #Riley #Madix #Micah #Alexi #platonic caretaking #puking #my ocs #vomiting

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

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(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Evan’s 6✩ Inspiration: Umbrae Secrets [繁荫秘语] Date Translation (Prologue)

“I saw Mr. Lu in the elevator just now! He was acting different from his usual self and the look on his face was absolutely frigid…”

*Light and Night Master-list | Evan’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 6✩ Inspiration has 8 Endings!! *Evan’s tag will be #For Night, For Revolution

It was an ordinary day of work. I’d just gotten to the office when Li Man’man opened the door and entered the room.

Li Man'man: No way, no way! You’ll never believe it! I’m doing all of you a favour by reminding you to behave today.

Brother Mao: Huh? What’s gotten you into such a tizzy?

Li Man’man rubbed the goosebumps that had arisen on her arms, shivering as she recalled what she’d seen.

Li Man'man: I saw Mr. Lu in the elevator just now! He was acting different from his usual self and the look on his face was absolutely frigid…

Li Man'man: I thought I’d turn into a block of ice in no time flat the moment our gazes met!

MC: What?

Hearing her recollection, I couldn’t help but to suddenly think back to what happened yesterday during lunch hour.

❖☆———————————★❖

At noon, I’d compiled a set of documents related to jewellery designs, just as Evan had requested and brought it up to his office.

A voice sounded from within when I knocked on the door of his office. It sounded unusually indifferent.

Evan: Come in.

❖☆———————————★❖

Pushing the door open, I saw Evan leaning against his chair, his brows were furrowed, hanging low, and there seemed to be thick storm clouds brewing in his eyes.

He was still staring blankly out the window in a daze when I went up to his desk.

Evan: Just leave it there.

MC: Okay.

Hearing me, he turned. The dark look on his face instantly lightened up.

Evan: Hm? Oh, it's you.

Evan: Sorry, I was just thinking about something.

Recalling the unusual look he had on his face when I entered, I couldn’t help but step on eggshells around him.

MC: Don't worry about it. Here are the documents you requested. Are you… okay?

Before he could reply, however, the landline on his desk suddenly rang, interrupting our conversation.

MC: I'll leave you to it!

Evan nodded apologetically at me and I took my leave from his office.

❖☆———————————★❖

Did something happen to make him unhappy…?

With his personality, he wouldn’t tell anyone about his troubles even if something WAS troubling him, no doubt.

❖☆———————————★❖

When I got home at night, I switched on the TV. It was coincidentally broadcasting a camping-related program.

The lush green forest, the joyous chirruping of birds and their songs… Everything there was powered by Mother Nature’s power of healing, capable of washing away all exhaustion in one’s body and mind.

I didn't know why I thought of Evan again, but I did.

MC: There’s a gigantic forest at the outskirts of Guangqi City and it’s clear weather out all the time now.

MC: Maybe he might feel better if I can somehow get him out to the forest for a walk...

An idea popped into my head and I scrambled to fetch my phone, searching for the familiar name in my contacts.

I was just about to hit the call button when I suddenly thought of a plausible issue.

MC: I don’t think he’ll reject me regardless if he wants to go or not if I invite him directly like that.

MC: Maybe I should feel around for his thoughts about it so that I don’t unknowingly coerce him into anything.

After pondering it for a while, I hit the dial button.

❖☆———————————★❖

Evan: (Y/n)? What's the matter?

MC: … Evan, I… err, have gotten interested in coffee lately.

Evan: Really? What flavour of coffee do you like? I'll be glad to recommend you things.

MC: Oh… I haven't decided yet.

MC: Ahem, have you ever seen a coffee tree? I've never seen it myself with my own two eyes! I really want to go see one~

Evan: About that…

He sounded hesitant, there was no doubt about it. I awkwardly scratched my head.

Did I come off too strange by bringing up that question out of the blue!?

Evan: Coffee trees have strict requirements when it comes to the environment they’re grown in. And as far as I’m aware, the PH levels of the soil and the amount of rainfall here in Guangqi City do not fit their criteria.

Evan: So, I'm afraid it'll be hard for you to spot one in Guangqi City.

Evan: But we can go see one together in Africa during your next vacation if you'd like.

MC: Eh? Africa? No need then.

MC: Ahaha… then, how about...

When there’s a will, there’s a way. I saw a glimmer of light at the end of the dark path in my mind.

MC: Then, what about a bamboo pith?

MC: I had some bamboo piths while eating hotpot a couple of days ago! I find that it’s a very amazing fungus! I really want to see one growing for myself!

Evan: It is. Although information is now widely accessible, it still hits different when you see it with your own eyes.

Evan: When are you free? We can go check it out together.

MC: Brilliant!

That's what I've been waiting for you to say!

MC: Are you free next weekend?

Evan: Yes, my weekends are open.

Evan: You… Are you this happy just to go to the forest for a walk?

MC: Hahaha, yeah! Super happy!

Evan: I'll come fetch you in my car next Saturday at 10 AM. Will that be alright?

MC: Sure! We're all set then!

Evan: Then, have you ever hiked or camped out before?

MC: No… but don't worry!

MC: I’ve watched lots of videos about camping on the internet! I’ll prepare all the equipment we’ll need this time!

Evan: Alright. I'll be leaving it all to you then.

❖☆———————————★❖

Soon, the appointed day arrived.

When I came downstairs lugging along a rucksack that towered about half a person tall, Evan, who was waiting by his car, looked slightly taken aback.

Evan: You…

I found myself blanking out as I stared at Evan, standing not too far away,

This was my first time seeing Evan dressed in such a casual manner. The soft and form-fitting material of his clothes made his shoulders appear wider and him, much more reliable. It was reassuring, to say so in the least.

MC: Haha, did I bring one too many things? Actually, I think so too.

MC: In case we don't find a bamboo pith today, we can still camp overnight in the forest with this.

MC: Don't you think?

He smiled as he approached, taking the heavy bag off my shoulders.

Evan: Sounds good.

Evan: You must have fun and enjoy your first camping trip, if anything.

The tenderness in his countenance was the same as always. Where was that coldness to him that a certain someone had mentioned?

I secretly felt a wave of relief wash over me.

MC: Let's head out then!

❖☆———————————★❖

After driving on the suburban roads for nearly an hour, we finally reached an area near the forest on the outskirts of the City.

Evan gently took my bag out of the trunk, slinging it over his shoulder.

MC: That's pretty heavy. How about you let me carry it myself?

Evan: Since we're going to be travelling together anyway, how about we both give it our best?

MC: Alright then. Thanks!

❖☆———————————★❖

Stepping into the forest, lush green foliage surrounded us all around.

The ubiquitous noise and lights were all isolated from here, creating a secluded and serene atmosphere.

The air was warm, humid, and carried the sweet refreshing scent of vegetation. Relaxation was literally oozing out of my pores.

I turned around to look back at Evan. He was standing ramrod straight as usual with a blank expression on his face.

MC: Evan, we're here to relax!

Evan: Thank you. I am very relaxed.

MC: You can afford to be more relaxed. Here, follow me. Open your arms like this, take a deep breath, and go "Ahh…"

He smiled helplessly at me. Just when I thought he was going to refuse, he mimicked my stance, opening his arms wide.

Evan: Ahh…

MC: Hahaha. Yup, just like that.

I took out a map and a compass from the bag.

MC: I will be the leader for today! I’ve already marked all the routes we can take. Let’s see… let’s go this way first!

Evan: Alright. As you say, leader.

We proceeded through the forest according to the directions shown on the map.

We chatted about the animals and plants that we saw as we walked. Or more accurately, Evan was the one introducing them all to me.

Evan: Sorry. It must be boring hearing me talk about all these.

MC: Nope. I’m actually even more interested after hearing you talk about them.

MC: Also, your expression changes into something a little different from what I’m used to whenever you talk about something you like.

Evan: Something that I like? I’m not really sure if it constitutes as me liking it, but I think I’ll like it if you do.

He smiled in a manner as if he didn’t mind it at all, stopping as he took out some tissues and a bottle of water from his bag.

Evan: Here. Wipe your sweat and hydrate yourself.

MC: Thanks.

The soft bubbling of running water entered our ears as we stopped to rest.

MC: Looks like there's a small rover up ahead, just like how it's drawn in the map!

Evan: Looks like the leader's leading well.

❖☆———————————★❖

Following the sound of running water, we soon found the river.

The clear stream rushed across the pebbles, the crystalline liquid glittering under the golden light of the sun. The wind that blew past the waters was very cool and very refreshing. It felt great on my slightly worn-out body.

MC: The cool breeze here by the river’s really nice! And the sound of dripping water’s also very calming.

Evan: Looks like there’s a flat rock over there where we can sit.

Evan: Do you want to rest for a bit?

I want to…

After pondering for a while, I finally decided to…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 4 + 6 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 7 + 8 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ☆Light & Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Revolution⊹ —————★❖

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #陆沉 #Evan #For Night For Revolution #繁荫秘语 #Umbrae Secrets

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hajimewhore · 3 years

Text

Body Swap 👫 (Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader) ➸Rated T, fem!Reader, 3.2k words ➷Humor, slight angst, misunderstandings, mutual pining, shenanigans ofc, i missed oikawa ➷ Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, ✈Part 7

Hajime nearly chokes, wiping the ‘potion’ dribbling down his jawline, he presses the back of his hand to his mouth in an attempt to keep the disgusting concoction from exiting his gut.

“...How was it?”

You try to pat his back sympathetically (he’s gagging now), but you’re the one that insisted he try the mystery remedy first, and you cautiously pull your hand away as he shoots you the most menacing glare he can while he’s coughing into his palm.

“It was made with weird mushrooms and fucking plants, how do you think it tastes?”

Terrible, you guess. And the effects were supposed to be instantaneous, according to a recipe dropped in one of the posts you found… not that you expected it to work.

“Ahh, and nothing happened.”

You rub your jaw semi-thoughtfully, before catching the look on Hajime’s face.

“Uh, Hajime?”

His expression is glaring, not unlike someone scheming for revenge. But that’s silly, Hajime wouldn’t blame you for the potion not working, right?

“It probably didn’t work because you didn’t try it with me.”

It seems he would, realization sets in as Hajime closes in on you, and you panic,

“I think it didn’t work because it was someone bullshitting!”

“Don’t you want to swap back? Just drink it!”

“You’re just mad, get away from me!”

You trip on your feet, stumbling into the kitchen table. It scrapes the tile as your hands clutch for purchase on anything that’ll help you get you away from the madman behind you, but the tablecloth you’ve grasped at isn’t much help seeing as you swipe it off the table entirely. You’d be impressed that all the plates and the flower-filled vase stayed perfectly set on the table from your impromptu magic trick, if it weren’t for Hajime assaulting you.

You cry out as if you’re being brutally attacked (you are, technically–just with plant juice), and Hajime takes you by the jaw and tilts a cup of the swirling cocktail to your lips, sloshing rather unappetizingly in the glass. If the thing had an aura, it’d have a thick gray cloud fuming from it.

“And why would I be mad?”

“Because I made you drink a potion I found on a weird thread even though it was totally suspicious and completely untrustworthy!”

You confess to your sins, the thread was actually some sort of troll that promised the reader would swap bodies with their favorite celebrity, and you cast it aside for the likelihood of that never happening, it was probably a scam to get some gullible teens to drink essentially dirt.

And you admit that initially you thought it would be funny to prank Hajime, jotting down the recipe and conveniently leaving out the celebrity bit, but in your excitement to scheme you forgot Hajime doesn’t take too well to pranks at his expense.

Not without retribution at least, and you find yourself grappling at his wrists, attempting to turn your head away from the glass.

He eyes you with a too eager grin,

“You should try it, really, it might work.”

It didn’t.

It was disgusting.

You have learned your lesson not to trifle with Hajime, and you're no closer to finding a solution to your problem.

You slump onto the kitchen table, feeling especially abused and violated by the plant paste you regretfully crafted.

“That’s number one on the list, what’s next?”

Hajime rests his elbow on the table, chin in palm as he scrolls on his phone.

“Bonk our heads together so hard we pass out and hopefully wake up in our own bodies?”

You suggest. Who knows, it could actually work.

“No thanks, I’d rather not wake up the same way but with a concussion.”

The second Hajime turns down your cartoonish suggestion, his phone lights up and buzzes, signifying a call.

You glance at his phone, “Tooru’s calling you?”

“Fuck. I’ll just ignore it,”

The moment he sets his phone aside, the kitchen door bursts open, presenting none other than Oikawa Tooru, entirely expected given the situation and the fact that Hajime’s parents are still at work.

“Tooru?!”

You blink in surprise, and Tooru frowns at the sight of the two of you together.

“I knew you were ignoring me!”

“What the fuck Shittykawa, who said you could come over?”

Hajime grimaces, forgetting to stay true to your personality in his surprise. Tooru’s brow ticks at the catty response to his entrance.

“I see you’ve been spending too much time with Iwa-chan, using his terrible nicknames! I didn’t think you’d ever use it on me either, but here we are!”

He folds his arms across his chest, and Hajime covers his mouth.

Shit, he let that one slip in his initial shock.

“Besides, this is Iwa-chan’s house, and I say I can come over! You two have been ignoring me all week and coming up with the shittiest excuses—”

“Oikawa—”

“No, let me finish!”

He huffs, looking more serious than you’ve seen him outside the court. Judging by his posture and the worry in his brows, you can tell he’s been stressing himself lately. You bite your cheek, knowing full well you and Hajime were the root of the cause.

“Both of you have to go to the dentist when the office is closed, really? Iwa-chan studying for a test that’s not for another week, please! Give me a break. Not to mention, every practice you play like shit Iwa-chan,”

It’s not shit, you’re just not Hajime’s usual, because you’re not fucking Hajime. You want to argue, defend yourself and Hajime, but you keep your lips sealed.

“You act like a total weirdo, you hardly talk to your own teammates and friends, and you–”

He turns to Hajime, technically you, scowl ever present.

“You always run off with him after school! And don’t even pretend like you’re not having lunch with him too, Kunimi-chan saw you eating alone together by the art building–ditching me, yeah?”

He’s fuming, and his hair is moving in every direction accompanying his wild, frantic gestures.

The guilt starts piling, and you’re starting to regret yours and Hajime’s way of handling the situation.

To avoid uncomfortable situations and messing up, you thought the best method was to steer clear from everyone entirely.

Clearly that’s backfiring, but it’s too late to erase those actions now.

“Not only have you two spent all week lying to me, you’ve been completely ignoring my calls and texts all weekend too!”

Tooru pauses, rant seemingly over, but neither you or Hajime feel inclined to speak yet, too caught off guard by the outburst, and unsure of what you can say to remedy the situation.

Tooru drops his arms at his sides, glancing away from the two of you, biting his lip. Your shoulders tense when you feel the atmosphere around him drop significantly.

“Are you guys mad at me?”

Oh.

Oh fuck.

You forgot he had feelings.

“Oikawa, it’s not that, I swear.”

You speak first, and Tooru looks to you with an expression that almost breaks your heart right there. Brown eyes glossy, lips in a thin line as if he’s trying to keep them from turning down into a frown, he looks genuinely displeased.

“Are you just sick of me? Are you tired of hanging out with me? I know I’m an asshole sometimes, but if it makes you guys that upset I can stop, I’ll be better.”

In any other context you may quip with a ‘you could stop this whole time?’, but the joke wouldn’t sit right, and Tooru looks entirely too on edge, fingers tapping at his sides restlessly.

Tooru’s always been the type to stay true to himself, unabashedly and unapologetically. He knows he’s flawed, has learned to accept his shortcomings as a person. But here he is before you and Hajime, willing to cast aside his pride for the sake of your friendship. It only serves to guilt you more, considering it’s based upon the lies you’ve built up.

“I promise we’re not sick of you, we just… had something come up that we had to deal with. It’s been really stressful, I’m sorry.”

You don’t particularly care if it’s too out of character, it’s what Tooru needs to hear.

Risking a glance at Hajime, you see he’s shaking his leg and biting his lip, a few of his nervous tics, he’s contemplating something heavily.

“And you can’t tell me? You always tell me when something is wrong.”

Tooru eyes you suspiciously, and it’s true, usually you can tell Tooru anything. But this isn’t something believable, and you and Hajime both decided it’s best kept a secret.

“We can’t, but it’s nothing you did. Don’t worry about it, we’ll start hanging out soon, like we used to, we just have to deal with this ourselves.”

And you hope you’ll be able to, it’d be nice to go back to normal. You did miss movie nights with Tooru and Hajime, and you miss having lunch together on the rooftop.

Tooru thinks for a moment, you see the gears turning in his head, eyes focused. He glances to Hajime, who hasn’t said a word the entire time, still tense on the other side of the table.

Tooru’s contemplative gaze flicks to you, as if he’s had some sort of revelation.

“Did you get her pregnant?”

WHA—THAT’S HIS REVELATION?

“You asshole, shut up!”

Hajime’s choice first words.

“What?! No, no, fuck no!”

You blush heavily at his wild accusation, and Tooru looks visibly relieved.

“Oh, thank god. It wouldn’t have been a bad thing, necessarily, and I always kind of expected it, but this is just too soon.”

He laughs airily, as if he doesn’t feel the weight of his words like you do, heavy on your heart. Does everyone have that assumption? That you and Hajime would one day be together like that?

“We’re not even dating, idiot.”

Ouch. Hajime’s adamant refusal jabs at you, and you try to ignore the ache that claws at your chest. That may have stung a bit, but you certainly won’t admit it out loud.

“Yeah, yeah. I just couldn’t think of any other reason you’d be ignoring me like that.”

“It’s ‘cause we swapped bodies.”

You whip your head to Hajime, physically ripped from your disappointment, too shocked he’d blab the truth to Tooru and expect a reasonable outcome from it.

“Hah. Hah.”

Tooru doesn’t even entertain the explanation, arms crossed and eyes disinterested, accompanying the dry laugh well.

“It’s true.”

You hope Hajime knows what he’s doing.

“Funny, and I didn’t think you’d be in on it Iwa-chan, looking so surprised like that.”

Tooru doesn’t even look skeptical, or remotely fazed, as if he doesn’t want to be tricked into falling for something so blatantly stupid.

And normally, he’d be right to, but in this case, you and Hajime were unfortunately not kidding.

“I just didn’t think Hajime would openly admit that without talking to me first.”

You shoot a glance at Hajime, as if to convey ‘I hope you know what you’re doing’, but he merely shrugs in response.

“And you’re a real prankster today too. What’s gotten into you guys? Seriously, are you mad at me?”

Tooru is starting to look a little peeved, visibly doubting your words of encouragement from earlier.

“We’re not mad. We switched places. We woke up last Sunday in each other’s bodies. That’s why we haven’t been ourselves, and that’s why we’ve been avoiding everyone.”

Hajime continues with his explanation, as if Tooru would be any closer to believing it.

Which he isn’t.

“That’s not even possible, but fine, I’ll play along. You’re Iwa-chan, supposedly. What’s something that only he would know?”

Tooru crosses his arms smugly, staring at your body, who is ‘supposedly’ Hajime, as if he’s got you two in checkmate.

This can’t be good for Tooru, but it’s definitely going to be good for you if you’re getting in on a secret.

“Alright. You swore me to secrecy for this one,” Hajime doesn’t hesitate for one second, “that time at the volleyball banquet last year you saw a girl with a ‘nice ass’ in a ‘super mega tight dress’ and wanted to hit on her, but when you tapped her shoulder, she turned around and it was actually Y/N–”

Now this is very interesting news to you.

“H-HEY, STOP TALKING–”

Hajime side steps Tooru’s attempt to cover his mouth,

“And you pre-gamed before the event so you drunkenly admitted to me that you’d still tap that but she’s practically your sister and that’s gross but her ass looked so–”

“I get it okay! How do I know you’re not just fucking with me and broke the secret pact we made?!”

Tooru cuts Hajime off and glares at you, but you’re giving him the widest, shit-eating grin.

“I knew that dress looked good.”

“Enough games already!”

“What about the time in elementary school where you and I went to a volleyball match and you had to–”

“ENOUGH, enough, I believe you, okay!”

Tooru relents, red-faced and practically sweating from his nervous panic.

“I wanna know about the time in elementary school where you and Hajime went to a volleyball match and something happened.”

You put your hand up, wanting to know the juicy details. You thought you and Tooru told each other everything, but apparently there’s some missing gaps in that ‘everything’, and you’re very eager to learn.

“We made a friendship promise and he swore me not to tell anyone but because of the circumstances, he had to—”

“I said I believed you already, stop trying to out me!”

Tooru cuts Hajime off at the best part, every time.

He taps his foot with a huff, bottom lip twitching into a frown. Hajime gives him a smug look, staring back combatively, as if Tooru will attempt to call out bullshit again (he won’t).

You’ll have to remember to ask Hajime about the middle school incident at a later date, but right now,

“I’m sorry we kept this from you, and sorry I kept ignoring your calls, Tooru. We didn’t know what to do.”

You interrupt their staring contest, wrapping your arms around Tooru in a tight hug. You’re the tallest you’ve ever been, and it’s weird to hug him when you aren’t yourself, but you missed your best friend.

“Uh…”

Tooru awkwardly pats your back,

“I was kind of lying before because I thought you guys were trying to shame and humiliate me, but this is really weird and I actually might believe you now.”

“Asshole, that’s all it took?! And stop hugging him like that, it's freaking me out!”

Hajime slaps Tooru on the back, yanking you by the back of your shirt to pull you from the hug.

He grumbles something indecipherable under his breath, contemplating whether he should even say anything,

“I’m sorry too. I guess.”

He gives Tooru an awkward, much gentler slap on the back, before slinging his arm around Tooru in some sort of half-hug gesture.

“I-Iwa-chan! It really is you in there!”

Oikawa’s fake tears spring to life as he bends down to wrap Hajime in a hug, who struggles like a cat wanting to be released.

“Get off me!”

Tooru pulls back, wiping a tear from his long lashes,

“I’m still really upset right now, I really thought you guys hated me! So if you could please shower me with adoration, that’d be lovely.”

Tooru spreads out his arms, a pathetic expression on his face that Hajime doesn’t buy for one second.

“Tooru! I love you! You’re the best Tooru, your jump serves are great! Your setting is unmatched! You’re my bestest friend!”

You cheer him on, Hajime is balking that you’d even entertain the idea of doing that in his body, let alone acting on it, but Tooru eats it up with gleaming eyes.

“Quit feeding his ego!”

It’s your turn to be scolded by Hajime, but you just stick your tongue out at him sheepishly.

“He deserves it?”

“He didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly! He didn’t do anything, and we were being bad friends.”

“I’m on your side,”

Tooru slings an arm around your shoulder and gazes down at Hajime, who’s more aggravated now than when he was drinking straight plant paste.

It hadn’t bothered him too much initially, but having to crane his neck up to glare at Tooru is sparking some caveman urge deep inside Hajime to absolutely throttle him.

“Out. Get out of my house.”

“Technically, this isn’t your house–OW, Iwa-chan, that still hurts!”

“Newsflash Asshole-kawa, girls can hit too!”

They can, and you let Hajime prove his point.

“So,”

“If it’s something about aliens, I don’t want to hear it.”

You interrupt Tooru before he can spew something definitely about aliens.

“I wasn’t going to bring up aliens–though it’s a very valid cause you definitely need to consider. I was actually going to ask if you have any idea how long you’re gonna be like this?”

You give Tooru a tired look, and Hajime just ignores him entirely, tired of glaring no doubt.

Tooru’s been lazing around, attempting to ‘help’ you and Hajime, but you doubt he’s accomplished anything aside from scrolling through the same threads you’ve looked through. You’re willing to bet he researched for a minute or two before losing interest, abandoning the task in favor of looking through Karasuno’s and Shiratorizawa’s match history.

“If we knew, we’d tell you.”

You respond, since it seems Hajime isn’t interested in replying.

“Ooh, that reminds me,” Tooru props his elbows up on the couch, pausing whatever volleyball match he was watching to drop his phone on his chest, “I saw this foreign family comedy once where the mom and her daughter swapped places, but they had to show each other selfless love and understand what the other goes through to swap back.”

Tooru gasps in additional realization before turning to Hajime, “Iwa-chan, are you her mom?”

The look Hajime gives Tooru is enough to put him in a grave and send secondhand chills down your spine.

“Sorry, sorry, don’t hit me again! Your hands are pointy and jabby now, it’s hard to get used to.”

Ignoring that,

“Hajime and I already understand each other, we have to put up with you all day.”

“True,” Tooru is completely unbothered by that comment, “I did see a romcom where the two main characters had to kiss at the end, they ended up swapping places like that.”

You don’t like that he casually suggests this with such an innocent look on his features.

“That sounds stupid, watch better movies.”

Hajime grunts out, and you’ll admit that kissing Hajime would be nice, but under normal circumstances preferably. You don’t particularly want to kiss yourself as Hajime.

“I appreciate all your knowledge in films that have body swaps in them Tooru, but this isn’t a romcom, or a movie.”

You sigh, and Tooru hums thoughtfully.

“Sure, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

He sits upright with ease, sliding off the couch and pocketing his phone,

“Anyways, I’ve got more practice to do. I’ll try not to be too hard on you tomorrow, now that I know you’ve swapped with that brute over there. Ciao!”

Tooru ducks out of the living room and out the Iwaizumi household before Hajime can assault him, and good thing, he probably would’ve had some bruises from your ‘jabby’ and ‘pointy’ hands.

With Tooru’s quick escape, you’re left contemplating whether that suggestion would actually work or not, risking glances to Hajime across the room.

A/N: not me ending a chapter on a juicy bit again afjknddm, anyways im posting this at an ungodly time but i hope everyone enjoys!

taglist: @cybergovl @babybellecheese @keijikunn @168-cm-png @sexy0android @cuddlesslut @bumbledunce

#haikyuu!!#hq!!#iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi haijime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime/reader #haikyuu reader insert #iwaizumi hajime fic #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader

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unprofessional-bard · 4 years

Text

Chapter 5 - Red in the Face

Losing My Religion Series Masterlist

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader/OC

Warnings: Mostly fluff but PTSD related events (panic attack).

Summary: An uneventful few months await the reader as her relationship with Joel and a Ellie develops - things take an interesting turn when Ellie stays over at the reader's house.

Word Count: 5.574

Author's Note: Yet another chapter named after a Mad Men episode, I think the name is fitting eheh... And as someone who doesn't drink coffee, I'm leaving what type of coffee Joel drinks to your imagination. Ahh anyways thank you all so much for reading!! 🥰

Enjoy!

Having a cup of coffee in the afternoon became a routine for you and Joel every two or three weeks. Sometimes once a week and with the company of Tommy or (mostly) Ellie, but you'd invite him over either after patrol or on your day off and just enjoy each other's company. You always had the morning shifts and Joel had the night shifts - sometimes you'd be assigned at the same time, but to different places or with different partners. The only thing you two had in common was your day off's, but not once had you two gone on patrol together, until one day Joel noticed how you came across traders on your patrol route more often than him and always brought him some coffee. He felt like he ought to repay that and invite you over for a different occasion other than dinner with the others. He grew quite fond of you in the following months after your first 'coffee session'. It was mid-June when he had asked Tommy to assign the both of you on patrol.

"Why?" Tommy smirked.

"She always comes across traders and brings me coffe, lord knows what she gives up for it..." Joel crossed his arms and stood in front of Tommy as he scribbled something down on his notebook in his office.

"So you're gonna give up patrollin' with me for our beloved Dolly, huh?" Tommy mocked offense as he closed the notebook and pushed it aside, looking up at Joel with a grin.

"She okay with you callin' her Dolly?" Joel raised his brows.

"She's okay with only us callin' her that."

"By us you mean-"

"By god, Joel," Tommy laughed heartily as he got up from his chair. "You can be so oblivious sometimes."

"What do you want from me?" Joel blushed lightly. "She'd break my fingers and shove them down my throat, I don't wanna be on her bad side."

"Yes, she would," Tommy nodded and stood across Joel, snickering. "But have you actually tried calling her that? She likes you, y'know."

Joel had thought on each word that came out of Tommy's mouth: Even if you hadn't admitted out loud, he knew you had a thing for Walt. He had a pretty keen eye for these stuff after all and didn't even bother giving the idea of you being interested in him a chance.

The twist was, his keen eyes will be proven wrong in the future. Twice.

Tommy and Maria were already aware of everything - even Ellie could see the way Joel looked at you, how his attention immediately shifted from whoever he was talking to or whatever he was doing to you whenever you made an entrance. Tommy broke the news of the patrol switch to Maria by saying that if neither of them had asked for it any sooner, I would've done it myself.

What about Walt? Well, yeah, about him...

Walt and Bonnie announced themselves as an official pair not long after your fight back in April. They lasted way longer than any of you had anticipated, which made you lose all hopes of getting with Walt, but it didn't bother you as much ever since Joel and you started going on patrols together. He was with you for a big part of the day and he was somewhat an even better company than Walt.

A few days after your fight, you asked Maria to assign you with Walt for that day's shift.

"Walt?" You called for him, nervous.

"(Y/N)..." His voice indicated that he wasn't hostile, just as stressed to confront you as you were.

"Let's talk?" You rubbed your hands together and he nodded in return, following you outside the gates. You rode on horses in silence for awhile until you reached the lodge lookout.

The both of you moved inside and Walt wrote down your names on the patrol logbook: 23/4; Walt/(Y/N); All clear -W.

You pursed your lips as you placed your backpack on the floor, then sat on a chair at the table. Walt sat across you - he always used to sit next to you, but now he was hesitant.

"Look, Walt," You began. "If I offended you in anyway-"

"No, (Y/N)," Walt interrupted you immediately. "I was being an ass, then in the heat of the moment we both said some stuff, but I hope I didn't cross any boundaries?"

"...No, but, you were acting so strange?" You looked at him, then decided to add: "Even Joel thought you were jealous of us until I told him that you had a thing with Bonnie."

Walt's eyes widened: "He- what?"

"I mean, if I didn't know you, I'd have thought the same..." You studied his face for a reaction, but only got a dumbfounded look. "Walt, look. I know you don't like Joel, but he's done good by me. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have been here."

Walt stared at you, a mixed expression made of guilt and embarrassment on his face. You got up and sat by his side when he stayed silent: "I don't know why you don't like him - you don't have to explain yourself to me. I owe him my life and- well, at least be respectful to him. For my sake."

"But, what about him?"

"Joel treats people the way they treat him. He's struggling to fit in - if he sees that you mean well, he'll treat you the same way."

Walt nodded, ashamed of his childish acts, but hugged you tight when you said Come here and opened your arms for him. You both hugged each other, glad that this tension between you was officially over; but you two were never the same after that. Your romantic interest died down in the following months and Walt started spending more time with Bonnie to the point of ignoring you and, well, Joel being made your official patrol partner didn't help the case. You were really curious to find out why Walt didn't like Joel, but you had already said you didn't care and decided to leave it alone.

Despite the awkwardness, the time you spent with Joel on patrol from mid-June til the end of November had made significant improvements on your relationship. At this point, everyone (Tommy, Maria and Ellie being the most) was impatiently waiting for either of you to kiss the other, but neither of you were aware of each other's feelings. Joel didn't want to make a move to avoid ruining what he had with you because, even if you didn't spend as much time with Walt, he still thought you had a thing for the redhead; thus his 'disinterest' discouraged you to make a move of your own. Although you were sure he somewhat fancied you -because, come on, no one can deny the tension between you two- you also didn't want to make things awkward.

But nothing would've been more awkward than what you had gone through on an eventful December afternoon.

Joel and you were about to go on patrol, when Maria caught up to the both of you: "Joel, Dolly, wait."

"What's up?" You asked as you were about to get on your horse.

"Chad was on the Creek Trails a few days back, he told me there were a lot of infected over there," Maria sighed, then gave you an apologetic look. "You need backup."

It took you a moment to understand that Tommy was, in fact, not going to be the backup: "Maria, no-"

"Too late." Maria shut her eyes and looked away when Walt approached from behind her. There he was, only a week and a half later after his breakup with Bonnie, his posture giving away the fact that the effects of the said breakup were taking a toll on him.

The tension in the air was suffocating. You whispered Fuck me... under your breath as Maria told him to ride with either Joel or you, as they couldn't spare another horse. Walt and Joel weren't on bad terms after your confrontation with Walt, but they just stayed away from each other. This was going to be a hell of a patrol.

"C'mon," you forced a fake smile to your lips and beckoned him to ride with you. He got up, sat behind you and grabbed the edges of the saddle of the horse, then all of you rode off.

There was a blizzard on the way, it seemed, for the weather was cloudy and the wind was sharp against your cheeks as you rode through inches thick snow. Focusing on your horse was a good enough distraction, but the road ahead was short. When all of you arrived, you began biting the insides of your lips.

Walt went up first, helping you up the rope and words weren't quite enough to describe your surprise when Walt also offered Joel a hand. He must've been shocked too, for he took a while to grab Walt's arm and pull himself up. Maybe today won't be so awkward after all! After writing down a new entry on the logbook, you listened to the two men as you pretended to go through the pages of the logbook.

"We shouldn't stay here too long," Walt spoke quietly. "Let's complete the route and go back before the blizzard hits."

"Agreed," Joel spoke and turned to you. "C'mon."

You gladly obliged as you really didn't want to be stuck with them in a blizzard. You didn't go through the Creek Trails too often as the route involved a river beside an old evacuated town, but you acted like it wasn't a big deal. Tommy was the first to show you the Creek Trails and it was going well until you reached the river. A scenario similar to the one with Joel right before you reached Jackson played out. Tommy was fortunately informed by Joel about your condition months ago, so he kept things mostly under control. He wasn't unfamiliar with the situation: There were many people in Jackson who suffered the same way you did from PTSD, but still, he never thought he'd see you like that.

It had been almost a year since you took this route and luckily, the current was slow, almost frozen. Going through the town, you all scouted the houses quickly. Everything seemed okay until you reached the supermarket, where Joel heard distressing noises from inside.

"We need a few people to secure the windows here," You said and got in position, rifle at the ready. You and Walt went in first, Joel following from behind.

"Just like the good ol' days, huh?" Walt whispered.

"You mean our patrol days or militarily?" You smiled, to which he replied Both.

Sweeping through the outer aisles were easy, nothing you hadn't done before. But the further you walked in, you noticed the spores beginning to appear: "Masks on, boys."

You pushed open a door slowly, only to be greeted by three clickers and a few runners in the main isle. The whole sweep went quietly for the most part, until a runner saw Joel.

"Joel!" You ran over to him. Joel, startled, turned around and leaned back on the glass to pull his pistol out but the runner was closer than he thought. It directly ran into him, pushing them through the glass and shattering it. You quickly shot the runner, but were horrified at the sight in front of you: The parking lot was swarming with infected.

You quickly hopped over to Joel's side and pulled him up, Walt right behind you. The noise had obviously attracted all the infected toward you all.

"Shit!" You jumped back as there was no place left to escape from the parking lot. Walt began shooting at them, giving Joel time to go inside, then followed you both back the way you came.

"This way!" Joel beckoned as he went through a different door which led to a long hallway. You put down a couple of runners before closing the door and ran to where Walt and Joel were.

"Through here," Joel said and entered a room to your right. He closed the door and the three of you pushed a vending machine in front of it, breathing heavily as the infected made their way into the corridor, kicking and scratching at the door of the room.

"We need to clear them out-" Walt.

"We can't," Joel interrupted him. "There are too many of 'em. We'll come back with more people but right now we gotta get outta here."

"Through here," you called them over to a hole on the wall. "Boost me up."

Joel and Walt made a move and stopped at the same time, Walt letting Joel go first, once more, to everyone's surprise. Joel pushed you up and you pulled yourself through the wall but lost your balance and fell: "Fuck-!"

You landed on your feet but you were sure you sprained -or maybe even fractured- your ankle when you landed and cried out in pain.

"(Y/N)?!" Both men shouted from the other side in panic, Walt quickly getting into position to boost Joel up: "Go, quick!"

"I'm fine," You hissed, quickly looking around the room to find it empty. "It's clear here."

Joel jumped down and kneeled beside you: "You okay?"

"My ankle, I-" You stared into Joel's eyes but with a loud crash, infected filled the room. Without wasting time, Joel dragged you toward a counter to your right and pulled out his pistol again. A great amount of anxiety washed over you - how the hell were you going to get out of this? And where the hell was Walt?!

But you knew you couldn't give into fear, not now. You always found a way out... Even though your ankle ached really bad and it began reminding you of the time when the Hunters-

You pushed yourself up to see how many infected you were dealing with. Relieved to see only two clickers and four runners, you looked over to Joel and he looked at you: "Cover me."

You nodded as he sneaked over to the closest runner and took it down without attracting any attention to himself. He took down the other one as well, but before he could approach the third, Joel stepped on a broken piece of glass and suddenly had four infected running towards him. You shot down the remaining runners before he retreated back to where you were, stunning a clicker with a brick in the meanwhile. You realized, to your horror, that you ran out of ammo at that moment and had to reload, but there was no time. Joel took down one of the two clickers with his remaining bullets, but neither of you could do anything about the last one. Joel grabbed you by the arm and helped you over the counter before the clicker could get a hold of you, but he pulled you with such panick and force, you fell on top of him with a Oof!

Joel must've hit his head - his movements slowed down and couldn't push the both of you away from the approaching clicker. Your ankle was twisted up in this position, which made you whine in pain as you tried to turn around with Joel's knife in hand, but couldn't. You growled and cried out, a buzzing in your ear similar to the stream drowning out the terrorising noises of the clicker as it made its way toward you.

"Joel, get up, come on!" Tears streamed down your face and you watched as he opened his eyes, which widened at the sight before him.

Joel hugged you by the waist, turned you around and pressed you down on the ground, covering your body with his before the clicker reached you.

Thud!

Your eyes were shut tight, the only thing you could hear was muffled voices of Walt grunting and sounds of stabbing as you struggled to breathe. You opened your eyes and looked to the left to see Walt stabbing the hell out of the clicker. You watched with terrified eyes as he slowly got up, mask covered in blood and looked over to the both of you, breathing heavily: "Y'all... y'all okay?"

Joel slowly raised his head up and looked at Walt, then back to you. Your eyes glowed with your tears as Joel stared at them - his right hand was holding the back of your neck and the left one was tight around your waist. Was he really about to sacrifice himself so that you'd survive?

Was he even aware what that would've done to you?

He got off you slowly, still holding you by the neck and turned to Walt: "Yeah- you clean?"

"Yup, I'm okay," Walt coughed and kneeled beside you. "We need to get out of here."

"She's hurt- Can you walk darlin'?" Joel asked, rubbing the side of your neck with his thumb in slow motions to calm you as your whole body trembled.

"I don't know," You whispered and sniffed. You grabbed both men's hands and pulled yourself up, but cried out when you tried to take a step forward, almost collapsing on spot.

"I got you," Joel walked in front of you and kneeled slightly, then Walt helped you up on his back. He grabbed your thighs and adjusted your form, then began following Walt out of the market.

"Joel..." You pressed your masked face against his coat and whimpered, hanging onto him as if your life depended on it.

"We're almost out, Dolly, you're safe," Joel reassured you. Luckily for you all, there were no infected outside but the weather had significantly gotten worse. Walt quickly got up on your horse and picked you up, making you sit on the saddle as Joel hopped on his own horse. You all rode off the way you came as fast as you could, barely making it back to Jackson without a delay.

The three of you took off your masks once you were inside. Joel immediately rushed to your side while Walt was helping you off the horse.

"I'll take her to the doctor," Joel grabbed you and carried you bridal style while Walt nodded and went over to the stables.

"It hurts really bad," You spoke as he carried you, voice cracking but feeling safer in his arms. "I- I think it's broken."

"You're fine Dolly... almost there. Katherine is going to fix you up, don't you worry."

It turned out that you had fractured your ankle and Katherine told you that had you taken a harder fall, you could've broken it altogether. You spent the night at the infirmary after she insisted, Ellie and some of the other kids staying with you for awhile before Katherine asked them to leave you so you could rest.

"You won't be getting rid of me this easily after you're back home!" Ellie had said before she left.

And she was quite right, for she was the one to help you back to your house with Maria the next day.

"Ellie, I'm fine, it's not like I have a concussion and broken ribs..." As much as you appreciated her help, you felt bad for taking up her time.

"You can't walk without crutches and I know for a fact that you're gonna get bored - you could use some company." Ellie sat beside you on your bed after Maria left. Katherine had said that your ankle was going to take around a month to heal and you wanted to bang your head against a wall then, not wanting to sit around. Maria and Tommy offered you to stay at their house a million times but you just wanted to be alone with your thoughts and trauma. You wanted to think about anything and everything and you knew no one other than Joel and Ellie would grant you such opportunity while being by your side. That's how your first day went: Ellie stayed until late hours and Joel visited when his shift was done.

"How're you feelin'?" He asked, standing by the bed where you'd been sleeping before he came.

"Alright I guess," You sighed. "I can't stand sitting around and doing nothing. It's like my first weeks here all over again."

Joel chuckled, then looked at the frame on your night stand, picking it up. It was a picture of you and Kurt in it: "I've been seein' this picture every time I came here and couldn't help but wonder who he is..."

You smiled and turned to your side a little, patting on the bed so that he'd sit down: "That would be Kurt. You could say he was my... mentor or something."

"Oh, right. Was he...?" Joel trailed off after sitting beside you.

"Yeah, he was there with them..." You nodded, remembering the day when you all got ambushed. "Eugene reminds me of him sometimes."

Joel nodded quietly and put the frame down: "I uh, I got one too. A picture of me and my... daughter."

You gave him a surprised look - you already knew his story, but you were genuinely surprised that he actually opened up to you about it after almost eight months. You felt a little guilty about having heard of this story before as he told you what had happened to Sarah. You keept quiet and let him vent, but hearing the story from Joel himself sent shivers down your spine - as if you were hearing it for the first time.

"I'm so sorry, Joel," You said once he finished. After a short moment of hesitation, you slowly put your hand on top of his. "I really am. I can't imagine how horrifying that must've been for you."

Joel whispered a small Yeah and looked away, not moving his hand from under yours and enjoying your small gesture. His thumb moved out under your own and rubbed it gently.

"I wish I could take a photo of you two right now!" Ellie suddenly appeared from the hallway, making the both of you jerk away from each other. She had gone to get something when Joel arrived a few minutes ago: "I wanted to stay here for the night, is that okay?"

Your eyes widened and so did your smile: "You don't have to, sweetie-"

"If I get too bored here, can she come and stay with you for a few days?" Ellie suddenly asked Joel.

"Now, Ellie, don't force her to do something she doesn't wanna do. She's too kind to decline."

You blushed a little at his comment and playfully slapped his shoulder: "Nobody's forcing me into anything, cowboy. Besides, it's your house - if I have a permission to stay, then I'll consider staying."

Joel smiled shyly: "You're right... Ah, what the hell, why don't you come over tonight?"

It was your turn to blush: "Not today, I'm afraid, I just want to sleep here for awhile."

"Alrighty then," Joel dropped his hands on his thighs, then got up. "Just let me know when you wanna stay 'n I'll come pick you up."

With that Joel left, wishing the both of you a goodnight. Ellie changed into her 'pyjamas' and curled up on the bed next to you before pulling the blanket over her body. The only light illuminating the room was the candle in you gas lamps on the nightstands on each side. You turned to Ellie - she seemed to be lost in her thoughts. You two were laying like you did in that cabin, the memory making you smile.

"So, when are you two gonna get married?" Ellie asked all of a sudden.

"Oh shush, Ellie," You squirmed and look away, making her laugh.

"I still cannot believe you two aren't together already!" Ellie spoke excitedly. "I don't know what's keeping you two... Don't tell me you still want Walt-"

"No, no," You blushed, running your fingers through your hair. "Hey, who says Joel likes me anyways? He's clearly not interested in me, Ells."

Ellie's expression turned serious. Looking you dead in the eye, she spoke, struggling not to curse: "You have got to be kidding me."

"What?!" Your eyes widened. You weren't sure if you wanted to hear the rest of what she had to say or not.

"No offense, (Y/N)," Ellie sat up. "I know Joel is blind, but I never thought you'd be as blind as him."

You weren't sure how to react, so you just stared off to the ceiling and thought: Joel was always so sweet toward you. He was patient, careful, gentle and protective... But wasn't that how he always was? You weren't really that special, were you?

"Oh god..." You sighed and covered your face with both of your hands. "Are you serious?"

"Oh, no I was just joking," Ellie rolled her eyes. "Of course I'm fucking serious!"

"Joel always had this silly idea that after all this time you were still into Walt," Ellie explained as you rubbed your face upwards and ran your hands through your hair. "I sometimes force a few words out of him about you and everyone knows that he has eyes for you... except for you it seems."

Your heart felt like bursting: "Oh dear lord, this can't be real..."

"Awh, look at you!" Ellie snuggled closer to you. "Blushing like a teenager, haha!"

"Says you!" You changed the topic and tickled her sides, making her drop to her side. "I may be blind with my own case, but I'm not blind enough to miss my Ellie's romantic shenanigans."

Ellie suddenly stopped laughing, face flushed red: "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Look who's blushing like a teen now," You smiled softly. "I've worked with children enough to see some things you think we can't see."

You honestly didn't have a clue she liked girls the first month you knew her. It all started adding up some time after Joel and her came back to Jackson. The kids there liked you and you liked them - they were mostly young teens who needed mentoring for patrols or with anything. You mentored Dina and Jesse for a while before Ellie arrived and Eugene began mentoring Dina. You saw the way Ellie got nervous around Cat - the way she blushed and stuttered while Cat was more confident around her. Ellie talked to you about everything but her own 'love life' and you never forced her to, whenever you cracked a few jokes, she'd immediately tense up and change the subject. After two or three times, it clicked - she was definitely into girls.

"How... how long have you known?" Ellie asked and got off the bed, turning around and doing her stressed finger gesture.

"Awhile now," You sat up as best as you could and stared at her worriedly. "Ellie, it's okay." She slowly turned around, panick spread across her face. "Are you okay sweetie?"

"No," Her voice cracked after a moment of silence.

You beckoned her back to bed beside you: "It's alright baby, there's nothing to be scared of..." She sniffed and climbed back to bed, finding her comfort in your embrace. "It's okay, Ellie."

"Does Joel know?" She asked quietly as you brushed your fingers through her hair, hugging her.

"No, I don't think he does. I haven't told anyone what I thought, if that's what you're asking."

"Oh, okay-" Ellie took a deep breath. "Thank you, (Y/N)."

"You'll tell him when you feel ready," You placed a small kiss on the side of her head. "This goes for anyone. Whenever you're ready, you'll tell them."

"But, what if they're not okay with it?"

"Well, fuck them." You smiled when she gave you a look. "If they can't deal with you for who you are, there's something wrong with them, not you."

The words seemed to have an effect on her, for her breathing calmed down and her eyes focused on a spot in your room, probably deep in thought. You two stayed like that for a while, Ellie eventually yawning and cuddling up to you after blowing out the candle on her side.

"Goodnight darling," You kissed her temple and blew out the candle by your side. "Love you."

"Love you too, (Y/N)," Ellie whispered sleepily, then fell asleep in your arms.

You felt like, after that, you had earned Ellie's trust completely. She became more like a daughter to you, which made things between you and Joel a little awkward considering he was like a father to her. You wondered if she thought of the both of you as her parents - if she felt the joy of having parental figures around her with the both of you. She'd come to you whenever she felt down or emotional- or for anything, really. You both had a factor in common which helped you both relate to and understand each other: survivor's guilt. It was upsetting, but you two had each other. You told Ellie what she wanted to hear and vice versa.

By New Year's, she gave you the most precious gift: A masterfully drawn picture of you... with Joel in a frame.

"Christmas comes but once a year!" Ellie chuckled at your reddening face. "I thought you might like this."

"Like?" You laughed. "I absolutely love this- Ellie, you're so talented. Thank you so much, sweetheart."

"Whatcha got there?" Joel leaned forward over your shoulder to take a look at the picture and his eyes widened immediately. "Oh..."

"Right? Isn't it beautiful?" You stared at the picture in awe, cheeks heating up.

"It really is," Joel turned his head to your face slightly, his nose inches away from your cheek. After Ellie had purposefully nonchalantly revealed that your interest in Walt had died a long time ago and that you had said this yourself, much to Joel's relief, he really began thinking on making a move when it was convenient. The problem was, he just didn't know how to, until Ellie came up with a gift idea.

"Did you get something for (Y/N)?" She asked Joel on patrol one day.

"What for?"

"Uh, the word Christmas ring a bell? Well, I found a frame for her, so she can put that picture of hers in it. She always complained about not coming across a frame for it, I think she'll appreciate it."

Joel thought on her words: He had completely forgotten about Christmas - it was his first after many many years, after all. Ellie noticed the thoughtful look on his face and spoke: "You know what? Why don't you give her the frame?"

"I- What?"

"You heard me," Ellie smirked. "I'll get her something else, you should give her the frame instead."

Joel had remained quiet then, but thought about Ellie's offer for awhile and, once he was back at home, an idea presented itself in his little workshop in his house.

"Y'know what?" Joel had given the frame back to her the next day. "You hold onto this, I'm gonna make her something."

And that was what you were greeted with right after you took your eyes off Ellie's gift: "I got a little somethin' for you."

It was a wooden frame, beautifully carved flowers on the corners and the picture of Alpha One in it. Your heart skipped a beat, your breathing coming to a stop, eyes widening at the sight.

You slowly took the frame from him with trembling hands. The happiness you felt was indescribable, did he actually take his time to make this? For you? Your eyes teared up: "My god... How did you get this?"

"You could say a little bandit helped me," Joel smiled over to Ellie, who was watching the both of you with an excited grin spread across her face.

You exhaled with a short laugh, looked between your gift and Joel and then, despite the cast around your ankle, pushed yourself up. His expression turned into a panicked one for a second before you turned around, giggled with tears rolling down your face and hugged him. It took Joel a moment to process what was happening, but he quickly returned the hug and wrapped his arms around your waist: "Thank you, Joel."

"Merry Christmas, Dolly," Joel sighed, content. A genuinely happy smile formed on his lips and his eyes closed unintentionally, finding the comfort he sought for so long in your arms. You felt like, his arms around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder - his body was made for yours, like puzzle pieces.

"Mistletoe!" Ellie suddenly appeared by the both of you, stepping on your seat with the said plant in hand, holding it above the both of you and shaking it.

You pulled away from him, hands resting on his shoulders as you stared at Ellie with embarrassment. Joel, cheeks red like the ribbon which held the mistletoe together, looked away shyly. You bit your lower lip and turned your head back towards him, gazed into his eyes with a soft smile playing on your lips. Your hands moved up to his neck slowly, eyes glowing. This cannot be happening.

Ah, what the hell, just go for it, were Joel's last thoughts before he pulled you close by your waist and pressed his lips to yours. A long overdue, passionate, deep kiss was shared between you two; a kiss that made everyone in the room cheer and clap at the sight.

"Finally!"

#joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #tlou x reader #the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic

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trashogram · 4 years

Text

Smut I’ll probably never finish; we’ll call it practice: Killer Croc/Reader

Edit: Warnings for painful sex, slight gore/blood, and violence

I didn’t expect people outside of those who humor me on this blog to actually read this, but I appreciate everyone who did! I’m putting up a few warnings by request if anyone else is interested.

“You really meant it, huh?” He asked.

The guttural voice gave you shivers, up and down your spine. Your legs tightened around his waist, bare skin rubbing over the scaly texture assuredly.

“Yes.” You confirmed, knowing that you had to choose your words carefully, otherwise you’d offend him. At least, that was how you thought you would react if you were a killer crocodile man getting a taste of intimacy after God knows how long.

Your slight movements actually managed to push him forward slightly, more out of surprise than your own strength. Again, you weren’t some super-strong mutant, able to lift cars and topple buildings.

He grunted, leaning down until his upper body was atop yours and his enormous hands were on either of you. He stared down at you with yellow eyes that mezmerised; they were unnatural looking and yet still so human - full of little flickers of emotions. The lust was obvious and it made the heat between your thighs that much more intense, but Croc was also questioning. His hesitance shouldn’t have surprised you, but you found yourself melting just a little at the fact that he was waiting for you to change your mind.

Your hand rose, reaching out toward his chest and sliding up from his pectorals all the way to his jaw. He was scaly from head to toe, but there were parts of him that were softer than others. His neck was strangely fragile, like the underbelly of a reptile rather than their hide.

“Can I kiss you?” You whispered, swallowing at the way his brow arched.

“Kiss?” He said, tone slightly incredulous. “You wanna… kiss me…?”

“Oh, do you not want… do you not like them?” The statement didn’t take into account that Croc had possibly never been kissed in his entire life, and you’d put it like that on purpose. He didn’t exude any kind of touchy-feely behavior to suggest he’d been given the chance to decide if he liked physical touch like that at all.

His mouth closed, teeth hidden behind a set jaw. “If it’s what you want, lady. Go for it.”

You smiled softly, and raised yourself up just enough to be within kissing distance. Your lips puckered and you pressed them against his straight as a line mouth, noting that this area was hard but not rough. There was give to it, reminding you more of human flesh as his lips parted slightly.

You moaned, accepting the quick draw and release of his breath into you. You could feel his coarse chest against yours, and the heart inside beating quickly as he let himself relax. He groaned into your mouth finally, humming as if he were tasting something particularly delicious while you coaxed his tongue into your mouth.

You pressed your forehead against his before breaking away for air, letting him know without explicitly saying it that you just needed to breathe and weren’t trying to escape. Not that you could from underneath him.

Croc panted with you. “You sure you ain’t never killed a man before? Probably could, if you kissed ‘em like that.”

You closed your eyes and laughed, feeling lightheaded. Your fingers stroked over his cheek and along his jawline as you felt his grip around you tighten up. He squeezed you, carefully but with purpose, holding you firmly.

+++

Leaning down, you kissed the criminal again while balancing yourself with your hands pressed down over his ribcage. Pushing the hair away from your face before rising again, you reached back and easily found his cock and aligned yourself with it.

You inhaled slowly, determination strengthening your resolve as you continued to sink down onto him. The head was fully inside, but you were still far and away from taking all of his length.

He growled, claws tensed around your waist. It was enough to make you brace yourself with a hand on his forearm.

You grunted. “Tell me how it feels, big guy. Please. I wanna know.”

The sweet request took a while to get through to his brain, but Killer Croc eventually came back to reality. His eyes were glazed over, but you could still see your reflection. You were the only thing in his world.

“‘S like heaven.” He murmured.

The praise made you blush. Your stomach unclenched as a new sense of confidence flooded your senses, and you went back to working your way down so that he could have more. It was very much work, even as the crocodilian man helped by taking some of your weight. He held you up when you needed to pause, though it became evident that he’d started shaking.

You dragged one hand from his abdomen to your center, circling your clit. It sent a jolt of electricity through your body, reminding you to let yourself feel this experience.

Your walls clenched around Croc, and you whimpered. It was completely drowned out as the beast under you snarled at the sudden vice. You jerked back as his hips moved upward in a shallow thrust and suddenly you were there. Your ass was seated firmly on his hips.

He was in bliss, head tossed back against the cell floor. “Ahh, that’s … uuugh, real good.”

You giggled affirmatively, allowing yourself a moment to bask in the triumph of taking all of him. You felt beyond full, stretched to a limit many women couldn’t likely accommodate lest they risk injuring themselves.

You were nice and durable, though. Even as you pressed back down on his chest for leverage and began to lift yourself halfway up again. You looked down between your legs and saw how shiny the base of his cock was already, then lowered back down. Again, and then again.

The wetness was a blessing. You were sliding up and down within a minute, unending fullness that kept you walking the line between pleasure and pain.

You cried out as Killer Croc made another attempt at thrusting. It was still slight, but there was no way for it to go unnoticed. He continued to growl, letting one claw grip onto your thigh while the other left you entirely to dig into the floor.

It was so easy to get overwhelmed, and yet the noises you made seemed to egg him on. He got into a disjointed rhythm, really trying to fuck you in earnest.

He was too big. The thrusts felt like being shivved in the pelvis while he hit the farthest he could go inside of you. Yet, you couldn’t do more than squeal and shriek as you bounced violently.

The nails on your thigh dug in and pierced your flesh. You covered your mouth to muffle a scream at the pain, but Croc took advantage. He pulled you forward, squeezing you to him and thrusting faster.

The danger of this getting out of hand had been reached and you felt dizzy and helpless. You couldn’t focus on any one thing whether it be the blood sliding down your leg or the stab of him against your cervix. You sobbed, eternally grateful for your bodily resilience as you were split apart.

This wasn’t going to kill you, even if it felt exactly like that.

“Fuck! I’m, ugh!” His words were punctuated with fast, shallow thrusts. Howling out, he completely immobilized you and buried himself to the hilt before you realized that he’d cum.

Heat filled you, stinging as it joined the static sensation of hurt and tingling inside. You could barely feel the rest of your body, only noting that the base of your spine felt like it was being shocked.

Croc’s relief sounded like a combination of deep growl and a nasal grunting. His hold on you went lax as soon as he had emptied everything inside you.

—-

The sound was distant, faraway thunder that still shook the ground beneath. It was simultaneously comforting and bizarre feeling the earth beneath you giving and taking. Not to mention the strange texture - inconsistently smooth until your arms lowered over its slope and you touched a much harder surface underneath.

Were you lying in some kind of plateau? Or a strange rock that was smooth at its peak and jagged at the base?

Eyelids fluttering, you squinted. There was harsh, ugly light above you, casting a glare against the thick glass before your eyes. It was a wall of glass, thicker than the thickest plaster wall you could find in an apartment in the Narrows.

You connected the dots then, and your head rose with a bit of effort so that you could confirm that you were still laying on Killer Croc.

Yes, he was still there and still breathing. And so were you.

Thank god.

Your lower half felt numb, except for the thick object still lodged inside of you. You grimaced a bit trying to pick yourself up with the added weight of his arms still embracing you, but his softening cock eventually slipped out of you.

The cum was thick and white, no different from a completely human man’s. The feel of it dripping out of your core was just as satisfying while you struggled to catch your breath.

You were quivering when you felt Croc’s arms drag over your back, pleasantly scraping over your soft skin as he kept your body atop his own securely. He clearly didn’t give a shit about being covered in your combined fluids.

#killer croc #waylon jones #killer croc x reader #for funsies i guess #btas

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sanghyukstattoos · 4 years

Text

Riding in the wind

Characters: Yoo Taeyang x Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut (including breeding kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex)

Words: 1933

Summary: Sex with Taeyang often included his breeding kink and this time, it was no different except with the two of you mixing fantasy and reality.

A/N: Heyyyy, yess I do write for all members~~~ Oh my, I was very surprised to read this request and I'm not really great with smut writing but you said lowkey and I decided to take advantage of that (in a nice way???) Initially, I thought about writing Tae with a lowkey breeding kink but I don’t think it’s that lowkey anymore😅😅 So, here is to you hopefully liking it and thank you for liking the Sanghyuk fics very much~~~ Also, thank you for the request because I can finally add a Tae fic to the masterlist!

The first gif vs. the second (+_+)

"Kids?" Taeyang whispered with a small smile across his face. Right now the sun had set and dark, deep tones of purple decorated the evening. The two of you were sitting on the sofa, facing each other with your knees touching. When he asked you that half question, you stilled and with good reason. You weren't sure if you were ready but drifting to thoughts about the future with him slightly eased the previous tension you felt. Tilting his head sideways in question, you bought yourself back to reality and slowly, very slowly agreed. "Yea, we could have kids, I guess." you spoke.

"It's okay if you are unsure because we have all the time-" and his words just powered through you. It wasn't a decision that you made on the whim because this topic had been floating around the house for almost a week now. Neither of you were opposed to having children so every time you touched the idea, Taeyang would be full of smiles. This was the first time however, you approached the subject and gave verbal confirmation.

You jumped a little saying, "I want to have kids, I want to have kids with you, sure", lips curling up into a smile as you spoke. A smile gradually adorned his face hearing you words and in excitement he pulled you into his arms. You squealed, wrapping your arms around him saying, "Yea, let's have a kid" realising that you said kids earlier instead of kid. "You said kids earlier, why are you going back?" he jokingly asked you, with disbelief on his face. You laughed, hiding your face in his neck, the redness creeping up on your face.

Grabbing his shoulders, you lightly pushed him down on the sofa, a little "oh" escaping his lips. His eyebrows cocked as a smile graced your lips. Giggling, you lowered your lips as his hands found your waist, guiding you to him. With a little thud, you plopped onto him, resting on your elbows careful not to crush him. His arms wrapped around you and shifted you onto his side, turning around to face you.

He was smiling more than you, feeling a little bit shy in the moment. Just as he went to kiss you, the phone rang and the two of you jumped back a little, feeling surprised. Planting a kiss to your forehead, he whispered a "sorry" with apologetic eyes and got off the sofa to answer the phone. You narrowed your eyes at the intrusion but the irritation left you as you heard the doorbell. Sitting up, you planted a soft and quick kiss onto his cheek. Passing by Taeyang on your way to the dinner table, you sneaked a glance only to find out that he was still on the phone.

Setting up the food, you heard Taeyang walk into the room and wrap his arms around you. Smiling, you turned around as your arms found his waist when he said, "I'm excited". Clearing the table, the food found itself on the other side. You squealed as he picked you, his lips finding yours, setting you on the table. Hungrily, you passionately made out on the table; your hands found his abs while he attacked your neck. Exploring the plain of your neck, his little love bites left red marks and you sighed in pleasure. Meeting your lips, he briefly leant away and pulled your t-shirt over your head.

The two of you stared at one another, breathing heavily as he removed his own t-shirt and unclasped your bra. It fell and your breasts bounced lightly at the lack of support. Discarding your bra to the side, he made quick work of removing the rest of his clothes while you did the same. Pushing you by the shoulders, you were now on the table, he pulled your legs so that your clothed centre met his cock.

Your fingers twirled your buds as he peppered kisses along the length of your stomach, fingers grasping the corners of your panties. Slowly, the adorned fabric made its way down your legs to your ankles and one hand replacing yours, his fingers twisted the nub. Feeling the heat pool at your centre, you jerked your hips, raising your back off the table. One hand slowly massaging your nipple, he pressed his lips to your sex eliciting a moan from you. Licking a stripe off your bundle of nerves, his finger went from rubbing comforting circles on your inner thigh to entering you. You moaned at the intrusion, the feeling of slight penetration building the pool of juices in the pit of your lower stomach.

Adding another finger, he continued eating you out, occasionally flattening his tongue against your centre as he shifted his hand to keep your legs open. Your fingers found their way to your breasts as you clenched around his fingers. Knowing that you were close, he pulled away, his face glistening with your juices while you groaned at the lack of attention to your clit. Grinning at your state, his cock was hard against his stomach, already leaking precum.

You wanted to suck him off, 'pop' as you left his cock to gaze at his fucked-out state. The sight of his face now- blush on his cheeks, deep pink pouty lips and your juices smeared across his face was enough for you to clench around air. Your hands met his as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, your nose scrunched tasting your cum. Giggling at your adorable response, you could feel his member touch your entrance. Prodding, it was barely entering, increasing your frustration at the sensation of teasing.

Wiggling your hips, you lowered yourself onto him but not before he grabbed your hips, completely stilling them. You met his questioning eyes before he pushed you further up the table, entering you whole. Mouth open, the pleasure silently engulfed you, feeling sensitive from the lack of orgasm earlier. Waiting for you to adjust to his size, you took in a deep breath, looking at him and nodding for him to continue. "You okay?" he asked and you replied, "yes" in confirmation, eagerly awaiting for him to move.

Slowly he moved, increasing to set a pace at which his hips met yours, letting out heavy moans as he relished in his pleasure. He sounded pretty and every time he masturbated himself thinking about you, he would let out those pretty moans, jerking himself faster at the thought of knotting inside of you. Now that he was here and that he had your verbal agreement, he could do what he had been wanting to do since day one- fill you with his seed. Biting his lips just thinking about it, he snapped his hips against you, drawing out louder moans from the both of you.

A little surprised at his action you asked, "You okay?" grabbing his hand from your knee as he looked into your eyes replying, "Yea- just thinking of filling you full of my cum and my kids.". His words drew a pink tint to your cheeks and never having stopped his rhythm, he connected your hands, doing the same with your lips. Leaving one hand, his muscles tightened as he supported his weight above you, thrusting just a little faster every time. Your walls surrounded his cock, gritting his teeth every time he felt you clench around him and moan, the sounds filling the entire room.

Breasts bouncing, he placed a kiss to each, hands holding your shoulder from behind as he pushed you into him. Full till the hilt, he was now directly above you and left marks alongside your neck as you opened up, wanting him to leave more. Groaning, he was breathless as he felt your nipples against his chest, his mind wandering to images of your breasts, swollen with milk as you neared the end of your pregnancy with your stomach round and full as well. Speaking into your ear, he stated, "I'm going to come in you baby, is that okay? Is it okay if I fuck my seed into you?". Knowing that it was rhetorical, you replied anyway, "Ahh- yea, please".

Gulping, images of you with your legs spread as his thick, white cum painted your walls and dripped down the legs of the table brought him closer to his release. Brows knitting, he came, splashes of his cum filling up your womb and at the warm feeling, the knot in your stomach unravelled, spoiling yourself over his cock. Slowing down his thrusts, you winced as he pulled out of you, falling onto the palms of his hands, right above you. Pulling you up from under your arms, he sat you up as he pecked your lips, "God, I love you so much" to which you heartily replied, "I love you too". Leaning your head on his chest, your eyes began to droop and he chuckled as he noticed this, loving how adorable you seemed in your post- sex state.

No idea about the amount of energy he had because he lifted you by the arms, the surprise caused you to wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. Walking to the bedroom, he gently laid you down on the bed, plopping beside you with a huff. The thoughts of shower were on your mind, especially with the cum trickling down your legs but you were so tired you could have cared less. Darkness engulfed your vision as you went to sleep strewn over the covers. Getting up, Taeyang bought a wet towel and gently dabbed at your inner thighs, careful not to wake you up. After he was done, he slipped a shirt over your head and a pair of boxers for him, settling into the covers which he previously pulled from under you. Lights out, the two of you snuggled into one another through the night.

Sun shining through the curtains, you felt a sharp, striking pain in your stomach waking you up from your deep slumber. You shuffled into Taeyang’s side, hiding your face in the crook in his neck waiting for the pain to stop. You couldn’t tell if the pain was from the lack of food or your deliberate unprotected sex with Taeyang. You wouldn’t have minded the latter but for now, you hoped for the former because you wanted to have breakfast with him. Stomach grumbling, his eyes fluttered open a couple of moments later, pulling you closer to him and wrapping a leg around your waist. ‘’My stomach hurts’’ you shyly spoke continuing due to the concern in his eyes, ‘’but I don’t know if it’s because we didn’t have food or just yesterday’’ trailing off at your last word. Understanding flooded his features as a small but unbashful smile lit his face.

‘‘I’m excited for whatever is about to happen’‘ he replied with words within the context of yesterday’s sex. ‘‘Same, but I have this feeling that you are more excited than I am’‘ you replied, laughing at the thought of him gleefully jumping around the house if you did become pregnant. ‘‘We need to have shower anyways’‘ he said, ears perking up at the mention of excitement. Not taking long to catch on, you caught his hand, pulling him up with you and towards the direction of your shower. Inside, you stripped together, wandering hands, causing giggles and laughs to flutter the bathroom which quickly quietened but in time, turned to moans and heavy breaths as the two of you stared at one another, out of breath.

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