#unless u ever need me close for whatever reason | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

not-alien-girl-v · 1 year

Note

love your work! can u write a kai anderson x reader smut with him as an elf on a shelf????

absolutely yes!!!!

warning: elf!kai, smut, lowk being attracted to an inanimate object, unprotected sex, size kink, he’s an elf so whatever kink that is, watersports, dirty talk, use of a different hole in the female body, ready has to lick her own pee, elf!kai licks readers eye, gets sealed in her wall

note: not my best work but that’s ok. JUST FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES I SWEAR GUYS IM NOT CRAZY. tbh this isn’t that good but it’s comedic and that’s all that matters to me, also it’s not x reader it’s x claire sorry not sorry

she couldn’t believe her eyes. he looked just like him.

it has been a full year now since kai’s untimely demise, and sometimes she felt as though his face was everywhere. in the passing of strangers, in the clouds in the sky, the paint imperfections on her ceiling as she layed awake at night.

but here he was. his stern face magically before her, his greasy blue hair, his dark eyes. all fit compactly onto the small face of the elf on the shelf she stared at in the store.

how had the makers of this doll gotten every single feature correct about him? all down to the single freckle at the tip of his nose.

claire was supposed to be moving on. claire had moved on. hadn’t she? as she grabbed the doll and stuffed it into her basket, heading to the checkout lanes.

___

she thought about it all night. the way she delicately unpackaged the doll, set him carefully up above the mantle, a place where Kai and her used to sit, cuddled up before the fire, now much duller and more empty once he’d left.

the elf sat there like a reminder, of him, of who she used to be, what they once had. she had to avert her eyes before she teared up too much.

claire wasn’t really sure what she was expecting the first night she took him home, but when the elf remained there, untouched, unmoved, looking still, identical to her beloved but in the sense that it, too, was lifeless and cold.

though, it’s not like she could just throw it away. throw him away. so she left him there. sure, it hurt to see him like this, but it hurt more to have to say goodbye for a second time. moving one is for chumps, right?

the second night was different, however. firstly, claire had taken a shower at 10, finding that none of her clothes were clean, she was left to shut down the house for sleep completely naked. it was no big deal. she lived alone now, and she kept her windows closed most of the time.

she locked the door and tidied up the house, turning off the lights of the well decorated tree in her living room. as she practically danced around the house wearing nothing, she was completely unaware of the tent slowly growing in the groin of the elf, carefully watching the show. it wasn’t something she’d concern herself with, given that elves don’t have genitalia, or so she was led to believe, but something about this elf was different.

he wasn’t like other elves. perhaps he was special enough to cure her lovesickness.

after taking care of all that needed to be done, she layed down in her empty bed once again, as she had done for an entire year now, day after day, and it didn’t ever get easier, she just got used to it.

that’s when she heard it. thump thump thump

‘what the fuck?’ she thought to herself. she would have said it out loud, but she had two reasons not to: one being that she promised herself she wouldn’t allow herself to go crazy in such a way and another being that if an intruder had entered, they would surely hear her.

she didn’t dare move, her breaths shallow and quick as she waited to hear if she truly had gone crazy yet.

thump thump thump

she lived alone. of this she was sure. no doubt in her mind, nothing in her house was supposed to make any noise after she had retired to her bedroom. unless…

no, it couldn’t be. sure, she had dreamt of it almost every night, no, every single night since she had lost him, but there was no way he could walk back through that door. magical things don’t happen in the real world, as much as you hope and pray.

she crawled out of bed and crept down to the floor by her bedroom door, trying to make out a shadow of what might be out there. the hall light was on, something she definitely was not responsible, and her stomach dropped.

the more she thought about it, the more the most dangerous part of her brain took over. what did she have to lose? she had no family, aside from kai, no friends, aside from kai’s friends, though she hadn’t talked to them since, and was working a minimum wage job in a fast food restaurant.

she could storm out of the room and confront her attacker with nothing but her bare fists and let god be her witness as no one else sure would be.

with no second thought, that’s what she did. she swung open the door.

in this world, there were a few things she had to be sure about, with each passing day, the threat of losing her sanity became more apparent.

1. magical things don’t happen in the real world

2. she truly was alone in this world, in every type of way

3. kai anderson, the love of her life, bane of her existence, and the only thing that ever kept her tethered to the earth, was dead

though, as the elf, also known as kai, stood before her in the doorway, menacing as ever, almost as much as when he was alive, with a boner in his silly little red footie pajamas.

it was erotic in nature to claire, being so sexually aroused by an elf doll, but she found it hard to be ashamed as he resembled her beloved so closely.

“kai?” she gasped out loud and fell to her knees, still not even eye level with the elf.

“claire…” the elf spoke lowly and claire expected some type of comfort, jesus, he had been gone a year now, how much more can she take, but he stepped forward and continued, “you’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?”

she picked her head up from her hands. “wha- i don’t understand?” she spoke through sobs.

“you heard me. loud and clear. you’ve been naughty. i’ll tell santa if you don’t obey me.”

“what do you want, divine ruler?” she looked down at him with dark eyes.

“lay down on the bed, you dirty little slut.”

she felt her arousal grow with every squeaky word he spoke. something about being an elf, in such a small body caused his voice to sound something like a chipmunk, but she found it erotic, regardless.

she lay down on the bed, legs spread, ready for whatever may happen. he climbed on top of her, straddling her face with his doll legs, and he let his micro erection spring free. “suck, bitch.”

she gulped. “how exactly do i-“ she started but he shoved his length into her mouth before she could finish. it was almost like a single french fry, warm, salty, and small on her tongue, but she worked her best to please him in any way he desired.

“good girl,” he moaned out to her, and attempted to smack her face with the sewn in white gloves he wore, but he could merely caress her cheek limply with every attempt. he sighed and didn’t try again.

his moans got higher in pitch as he got closer to his release, and she was worried he was getting so high in pitch that only dogs would hear him soon.

“fuck baby, i’m gonna-“ he didn’t end his sentence as his hot load shot into her mouth, being about a single drop on her tongue, but once again, she didn’t mind. anything for her master, even if he was an elf.

he removed himself from her mouth the moment he felt her swallow, and moved down to abruptly stick his length into her leaking cunt.

she moaned loudly, out of pity for his small size and in some odd way, immense pleasure, as she found his micro penis much more arousing than she expected.

he groaned in annoyance. “fuck, i can’t feel you at all,” just as claire was about to reach her breaking point, he pulled out, and developed a sinister look on his face. “i know what will work.”

she aimed to raise her head to look at the elf working on her but her body went stiff when she felt his dick slide into her urethra.

“what the fuck are you doing?” she whined out in pain but he continued his attack on her smallest hole, the exact right size for his less than average manhood, or elfhood, as it would now seem to be.

“fuck, you feel so good you little whore. you’re still daddy’s princess, aren’t you?”

she hardly felt any pleasure anymore, mostly just an odd pain, but it was enough knowing it would please her master.

“yes daddy. i’m your princess daddy. i love you daddy,” she moaned. “oh shit,” her voice dropped an octave as panic began to swim around her leaking body. “fuck, daddy, i’m gonna-“

before she could finish her sentence, a powerful stream of piss shot out of her, through the hole the little elf man had claimed, pushing him out of her, and with that, given his now minimum body weight, catapulted his entire body away from her, thwapping him against the wall with a loud smack before he could register what was happening.

he sat up and observed the mess she had made. “lick it up, bitch.”

“what?” she sat up in shock to look at him.

“i said lick it up. since you’re daddy’s princess, you have to do what daddy says.”

though he was just an elf, he was still scary, intimidating and had a murderous gleam in his plastic eyes, something that claire didn’t want to explore, given her reoccurring nightmare of being murdered in her sleep by a doll.

on her hands and knees now, she licked the trail of piss with her tongue off the carpet, attracting all types of gunk left in the carpet from her lack of vacuuming, before she was met face to face with the elf again.

she expected him to leave her a kiss, something she hadn’t had in ages, even in the time leading up to his death. she’d be lying if she said that what she had with kai was perfect, or anywhere near it, and as the last few months went by, the two hardly ever spoke.

instead, he leaned in, slow and carefully, noticing her wide eyes gazing back at him, and licked her eyeball. she flew back in surprise, clutching her teary eye with both hands. “what the fuck?” she cursed, screaming and sobbing in pain.

“i always wanted to try that when i was alive, baby. thanks for giving me the chance to live out my wildest fantasies.”

but the clock struck midnight. with a panicked look on kai’s elfy face, he scrambled to speak one last word, “wait!”

it was too late. his sopping, putrid, soggy elf body was lifeless on the floor, just as he had began. claire picked him up and chucked him at the wall again.

“fuck you!” she screamed as she beat him against the wall, over, and over, and over, until a big whole was left in the wall.

she stuffed him inside of it, and with a plaster repair kit she had been smart enough to purchase a few months back, she sealed him in there. she hoped she would never have to see his handsome, elf face ever again, no matter how much it pained her greatly.

moving on wasn’t for chumps. it was for survivors, and that’s who she was.

#ahs #evan peters fanfiction #american horror story #evan peters #evan peters x reader #fanfic #kai anderson smut #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson #ahs cult

80 notes · View notes

blazehedgehog · 1 year

Note

Physical or digital media?

I would be a 100% physical media person if I could help it.

There are too many stories of games getting delisted for licensing or whatever. A developer pays for a celebrity likeness or a top 40 song or a specific model of car and five years later, whoops! The rights expired! The game goes poof. It's like it never existed. Doesn't matter how good or bad the game was.

And keep in mind, even a bad game is going to be somebody's favorite, and they deserve a way to still experience it.

If you have a disc, that disc is forever (within reason). If it's a digital game, it gets deleted from that reality. Literally deleted. I bought Forza Horizon 3 on PC a few years ago because Microsoft had the foresight to warn people when it was getting delisted. And thankfully, the servers are still up, and Microsoft says they are, at least for now, committed to letting you redownload delisted games that you paid for.

But that won't always be the case, and it's already happening that some games can permanently disappear. The Wii Shop Channel is gone now. All those Virtual Console games, all those WiiWare titles, if you missed your shot to download it from Nintendo, it's gone now. Doesn't matter how much you paid. If you connect that console to the internet all you'll have is an error message. The clock is also ticking on the 3DS and Wii U eShops, which are slated to close at the end of this month.

Stadia, in its entirety, is gone. Most (not all) of those games are available on other platforms... but if you bought it on Stadia, you will have to buy it again somewhere else, and hope that one day, that too does not also go down.

There are always gestures of preservation efforts made by the community. And I'm thankful for those. The Wii Shop Channel is gone, but all of those games have been backed up by pirates years ago. Believe me, I'm no stranger to the methods used to play games like Castlevania ReBirth or Fast Racing League, which died on the Wii Shop and have never been ported anywhere else to this day.

But there are a lot of assumptions made in things like that which may not have practical solutions. Like, how many of you reading this blog have ever tried to emulate an original Xbox game on the PC? Microsoft only lets you access a small percentage of the Xbox library through their official backwards compatibility, but what if you want to venture outside of that?

It's not an easy process. Compatibility is a mess, system requirements are all over the place, and you have to get very specific dumps to even get the games to boot at all, assuming they can actually run. Yes, the data has been preserved, but it's not worth much when you can't do anything with it or need to spend $1500 on a PC good enough to run the emulation software.

It will always be easier to own the disc and throw it in the original hardware. A lot of Sega Saturn emulation still isn't an especially easy thing to run smoothly unless you have an above average gaming PC. I'd have to spend at least $300-$400 just to upgrade my system's CPU, but a couple years ago I spent $110 on a RetroTink2x Pro and I can hook my real hardware up to that just fine.

But even that's becoming it's own problem, because all of the greasy collectors have been moving in for years now and driving prices up on even the cheapest, most recent trash. The aftermarket is all but disappearing -- up through the launch of the PS4, it used to be you could find PS2 games for pennies. Now used prices seem to stay pretty much lock step with retailer MSRP (that's the price you pay for brand new shrinkwrapped games, kids). You might be lucky to find newer games on Ebay for a couple bucks off, but it's not like it used to be.

There are more and more and more stories about grifters like WATA coming in and "officially grading" retro games to be fake collector's items, leading to awful headlines like a copy of Super Mario 64, one of the most ubiquitous and common N64 games ever made, selling for a million dollars. That's like selling a bucket of tap water for a million dollars.

Buying physical is becoming a landmine because it's feeling like if you wait too long then you're at the mercy of scalpers and grifters and "collectors" who think they can throw a loose cart of Super Mario 64 up on Ebay and get $50-$70 for it.

A part of me wants to slap on a tinfoil hat and say that this was a plan. Ten years ago, the used games market was the enemy for a corporation like Microsoft, because it was a method to get dirt cheap games without any of that money going to them.

And though they backed off from that after it publicly damaged the Xbox brand, they are still pushing very, very, very hard to move everything to digital where the used games market does not exist. The next generation of Xbox after the one we're on right now probably won't come with a disc drive at all for how much they push the all-digital Series S in the marketing.

How do you hurry that along? Turn the used games market in to "the collector's market" where those old games like Halo 2 are much more expensive and much less convenient than just buying a digital copy of The Master Chief Collection for $20 on the Xbox Store.

And make no mistake, it is more convenient. Speaking as someone who has moved into smaller and smaller spaces over the last seven years, there comes a very real moment where you have to get rid of pieces of your life. Being able to plug a single box in and have my 18 year old Steam account with 1500+ games certainly seems a lot more comforting on the surface than having to lug five tubs of plastic cartridges and game discs around everywhere I go.

But what if the unthinkable happens, and Steam shuts down some day? I cannot reliably back up 1500 PC games. What if it gets stolen tomorrow and I can't get access back? Is convenient always better? Like, yeah, somebody could break in and steal my retro games, too, but that's a lot harder to do than breaking into my Steam account.

And this isn't even touching on the complications of ownership rights, and how certain businesses are trying to redefine what it means to be a "service" because that allows them to bypass the ownership laws meant to protect people like you and me.

The reality is, because of space, price, and availability concerns, I only really buy physical games if they're meaningfully important to me. And if they're important to me to own on a disc, I usually end up buying them digitally too, just for the convenience of digital. The Xbox 4 might not have a disc drive but I'll still be able to play the digital copy of Sonic Unleashed on it some day, while also being able to pop that same disc in my old 360, assuming it still works.

There are forces at work here and as always their goals are to take more and more and more of our money away from us. They have discovered a lot of great ways to do that. Buying physical is getting to be almost a matter of protest at this point.

#questions #anonymous #physical #digital #xbox #microsoft #gamepass #collectors #WATA #insane ramblings or perhaps the truth

39 notes · View notes

sunny6677 · 1 year

Text

October

(A Spooky Month AU Series)

PART 17/CHAPTER 17: A Plan.

Summary: A 19-year old Skid ends up moving back to his old town for the sake of nostalgia. But he finds himself surrounded by familiar faces.

TWS: PROFANITY, PUMP BEING LESS OF A DICK, IMPLICATIONS OF ROYS TRAUMA, IMPLICATIONS OF FLASHBACKS, DEATH THREATS(EVEN IF ITS AS A JOKE IN THIS CHAPTER).

A/N: I genuinely wanna know. Who do you think is actually in the wrong in this situation? Skid or Pump?

————

Skid gulped, staring into the eyes of.. well, Eyes. They looked like the feathers of a peacock, the cyan blue dots staring back at him with such intensity. Even if he remembered how he had befriended this creature with Pump in the past, it was still a horrifying sight. His anxiety levels had never been so high before, he hadn't ever believed they would ever become higher than they already had been.

He glanced at Pump who had still been beside him. Pump was not uttering a word now, his eyes completely fixed on the gigantic cyan eyes from before the two. For whatever reason, Skid had not been effected.. much like the previous time they had visited this creature inside of his lair. Skid only continued to stare back at the creature, and finally said in an almost shivering voice, "H—Hey.. Eyes.. uh.." Skid nervously glanced around, struggling to keep his calm, "h—how've you been? Heheh.. your not.. gonna kill us, are you?"

The creature did not utter a word for a moment, before its booming voice echoed around the lair yet again. "WHY WOULD I KILL SUCH INTERESTING AND UNIQUE PILES OF FLESH?" The creature asked, making Skid tense up as he continued to stare back at it in slight fear. His anxiety was plummeting to the roof right now, and his heart was beating a hundred miles per hour. The booming voice then spoke again, "YOU LOOK DIFFERENT. WHY WERE YOU GONE FOR SO LONG, FLESH?"

"W—Well.. I—it's been a long time, Eyes, I—I moved away for a decent amount of time and.. and had myself a break from this town, I guess. M—My mom ended up dying, so.." Skid said, staring down at the void-filled cyan-filled ground that consisted of nothing but the tentacles below. "I KNOW, FLESH. I AM EVERYTHING, I AM EVERYWHERE AT ONCE." Eyes answered, slightly leaning closer, which caused Skid to look away upon his own anxious instinct. "A—Ah! Of course, of course.. w—wait, why did you ask, then?" Skid said, turning to Eyes in gentle confusion.

"I JUST WANTED TO SEE IF THAT WAS WHY YOU LEFT, FLESH." Eyes answered, looming closer. This made Skid look away again, though Pump still stayed still in his position, still appearing hypnotized. "O—Okay, okay! J—Just.. just stop getting so close to me, please." Skid begged, seeming very anxious. Eyes backed away slightly, looking down upon the two humans before him, and said in a snarling voice. "HOW OLD ARE YOU TWO NOW, FLESH? WHY DOES PUMP STILL LOOK LIKE A.. KID?" Eyes said slowly, seeming as if he were trying to correct himself. Had he been trying to learn the lingo of the humans? If so, it was hard to tell.

Quietly, Pump said in a low and raspy tone, not breaking eye contact, still hypnotized, "You will be dead in the next five minutes.." Skid looked at Pump with a worried glance, before slowly turning back to Eyes. A plan was slowly forming in Skids mind to get the two of them out of there. "L—Listen, Eyes, we need to go.. Pump needs to get back home, and he's had a pretty long day.. I've had a pretty long day too, so.. can you please let us go?" Skid tried to gently ask, as if gently inquiring Eyes had been Plan A.

"NOT UNLESS THERE IS SOMETHING YOU MAY GIVE ME IN RETURN, FLESH." Eyes growled, slightly leaning closer again, which caused Skid to fight the urge to flinch back in anxious fear. He maintained eye contact, holding a slightly determined look on his face. A light bulb then clicked on in Skids mind, but it hadn't been obvious on the outside. "U—Uh.. what about.. do you mean spooky month?" Skid softly asked, giving a nervous smile as he slightly shrugged where he had been positioned.

"...ITS THE SPOOKY MONTH?" Eyes asked, suddenly eager. Skid quietly let out a sigh of relief, it seemed this plan was sort of working. Pump, even though he was still hypnotized, had said in a slightly lower tone, "...wait.. what?" Skid only glanced at Pump, still holding a look of empathy and concern. But then, his look turned into that of determination.

Without further ado, the two suddenly felt themselves being pulled closer to Eyes, and before they could fight back..

————

"Right in here, men!" John called out, grabbing a rope as other officers lined up from behind him, tugging onto the rope as well. Jack only rushed to the other side of the hole that had been plunged out of the ground, holding a walki-talki close to his mouth as he bent down to get a closer view of the hole. The officers had been determined to let the two men out of the hole, they had been ready to rescue them.

As the men and John began to try and throw the role into the very spot of the hole, they suddenly heard a loud crashing sound yet again, and everyone in the room began to tumble. Jack tumbled foward, nearly falling into the hole himself. In fact, he nearly actually did fall into it, but was then grabbed by the wrist by John who had fortunately been nearby. John then looked to whatever the source of the crashing noise had been, and uttered in a very shocked tone, "Holy shit.."

It was.. the weird tentacle-creature who had captured Skid and Pump, "Eyes", as the two had called it. And.. Skid and Pump had been on top of its head, on top of its brain-like head. Skid had been sitting in the front, while Pump had been sitting from behind him. Pump seemed to be looking down, his eyes how a teal or cyan blue. For seeming hypnotized earlier, he seemed more in control now for whatever reason. Perhaps the lair had made it worse?

Eyes, without warning, began to rush out of the house, making the officers scramble around and shriek at the top of their lungs. Skid and Pump screamed as well, not expecting his sudden movement, in fact, they screamed both at the same time.

Eyes had left the officers there, still having Skid and Pump riding on him as he rushed out of the house on the hill. John looked to be in shock, and grabbed a walki-talki rather quickly, and began to frantically call for more help.

————

"H—Holy shit, what is he doing?!" Pump had yelled that, still seeming a little.. hypnotized, from the color his eyes had been. He seemed to be more in control, but he seemed almost sleepy and exhausted with each sentence he spoke. In fact, he nearly fell off of Eyes, but Skid had stopped him from doing so, placing a hand where he would have fallen had it not been for him.

"Pump, I'm gonna need you to follow what I say for once, alright?!" Skid yelled at Pump, who had been behind him still. Skids stare seemed more stern and determined now, he was being unusually assertive. "What do you mean follow what you say for once?! I've basically been doing that this entire time!" Pump yelled back. Their voices were barely hearable over the sound of the loud footsteps of Eyes, or tentacle-steps rather.

"Yes, but your really going to have to do it this time, Pump! No sarcastic comments, no getting angry at me, and I'm certainly not gonna get angry with you! Your gonna follow what I'm saying, alright?!" Skid yelled at Pump, seeming more assertive and almost like an authority figure now. Pump didn't answer for a moment, which made Skid lightly shake him by the shoulder. "Alright?!" Skid repeated again, seeming like he was getting a little too into the role of being assertive. Pump seemed shocked, like he hadn't been expecting this.

"O—Okay, fine!" Pump agreed, with a slightly sassy roll of his eyes. "But what are you even gonna do anyway?!" Pump asked, with a rather sharp gesture of his hand ad he struggled to remain on Eyes. "That was exactly what I was gonna explain before you interrupted me, now pay attention!" Skid raised his voice, sounding as if he were panicked and assertive at the same time. Pump slightly flinched, but slowly nodded in understanding.

Skid then whispered, "We're just going to take him for some candy and some spooky dancing, and then we'll leave, alright? Just like old times!" Pump widened his eyes, and said in a mildly confused voice, "W—We're just gonna do the same thing we did last time? Isn't that a bit weird? Couldnt we have just done literally any other plan—"

Skid gave a stern but determined glare, which made Pump quiet down immediately. Pump sighed, and yelled with an annoyed look in his eyes, "Okay, fine, but—" Skid swiftly turned around, and said in reply, "No, your not questioning me anymore, your gonna listen to me for once because this time it's important! Now hold on tighter so you don't fall off!"

Pump obeyed this command, holding a look of shock. He hadn't ever seen Skid so.. determined or assertive before. But both of their eyes widened upon Eyes stopping in his tracks suddenly, and they saw what he had stopped by.

It had been Roy, Robert and Ross—they seemed to be standing by the gate. Ross seemed to be putting a comforting hand on Roy's shoulder, while Robert only worriedly glanced down at Roy. Roy seemed to be.. crying, but he was wiping his tears. "S—Sorry, guys.. I just don't have a lot of good memories with this place." Roy apologized, his voice sounding calm compared to his face. He seemed to be referring to.. the house on the hill?

"Its alright, Roy, we—" Ross stopped, and looked up, his eyes immediately turning a cyan blue. Robert looked up too, his mouth agape, and his eyes now a cyan blue. "R—Ross? Robert?" Roy tried to say, and slowly looked up. Roy's eyes widened, and of course.. they immediately turned a cyan blue.

...Eyes was hypnotizing them, again.

////////////////////

#read the tws #skid and pump #spooky month #spooky month au #pump and skid #hatzgang spooky month #roy spooky month #ross spooky month #robert spooky month #jack and john #john and jack #john spooky month #jack spooky month #eyes spooky month

10 notes · View notes

taeyungie · 7 months

Note

em, well.. he called me today. the irony of it all is apparently when i was talking w/ that 1 guy after my ex years ago, i only told him cus he asked me out & i apparently said he didnt need to know that stuff and i dont remember ever saying that but he said he was hurt/caught off guard & therefore never shared any of his personal relations with me. i think i blacked those yrs out. i went thru a very bad & messy breakup and wanted a distraction, i don't remember him ever asking me out then but he said he remembered very well. i feel so fucking stupid. this basically all happened bc of me. and u were right, he said he /always/ had those feelings even after my ex but i felt they weren't there... so i never attempted anything until i built up our relationship again which is how it is now. but, the real kicker is.. i told him that i didnt want to be put in a position where if he was serious about me, that he'd talk to other ppl, but he said im basically asking for commitment and he cant give that to me unless i show that i'm willing to let him come see me or vice versa (which i just need more time for), until then, he's not going to tell me if he's messing with anyone but he said if things do get serious with someone, then he'll let me know to not lead me on. thats not what i wanted to hear. basically he's open to whatever happens with whoever, even if he cares deeply about me, but he cant promise to not talk to other ppl and i know its selfish, i just wanted him to wait for me, esp after all this time with trying and failing with wrong timings. the way he said "IF i get into a relationship, i'll tell u" gets me cause i'll only know if he makes it official, he said thats how its gonna be. and i honestly feel like i'll end up pushing him away cus the reality of that being possible hurts too much. he said he'll just have to accept it then. but even after talking i still feel as lost. i feel sad, ashamed i said those things i truly don't remember. but now i'm confused with my feelings. i know this is going to change everything. i can already feel myself wanting to pull away emotionally & put the guard i barely let down back up 😣

i am sorry sunshine :( but i'm really happy that you guys had the talk, you need to stay in contact with him no matter what, the silence can be the worst thing to do right now, so please try your best not to become closed off. the fact that you're both so hurt by this situation is so visible, my heart is breaking. although i really do understand both of you, and he is clear about what he expects and it's in your hands to decide what to do with it 🥺 you know... you have to understand that he is just trying to be happy too, just like we all do. it doesn't mean he only cares about himself, he was there for you through the bad times and he did wait for you, honey, but the thing happened years ago and he might be just tired of waiting, he just wants to find happiness and love too... i'm pretty sure he's probably just as hurt and confused by this situation as you are, but he cares about you and he wants to be with you, but maybe he cannot handle long-distance relationship, maybe he is tired of waiting, maybe there are other reasons he doesn't want to share because it's hurting him too much at this point, yeah? he probably started closing up on you because of that as well, that's why he stated his feelings in such harsh way. he probably doesn't mean to hurt you at all, he is just trying to protect himself.

so please, don't get me wrong, i may not be giving you the best advice or making you feel better which i'm really sorry for :( but i want to stay objective because the situation is tough, and help you understand how to deal with it, to look at your situation in a different light. I'm trying to guess what can be the issue and what you guys are going through, nothing I say is 100% right because I don't know the exact details and I will never know how exactly each of you is feeling. but what i know for sure is that one can stay strong for long enough, sweetheart :(

i understand that you might have blocked out the memories because of traumatic past and that is completely valid and I'm really sorry for what you went through, you deserve the best of love and care :( it's something he should be understanding about especially that he asked you out when you were still in pain, you probably weren't ready for something serious and i will allow myself to guess the guy you talked with was not considered as something you were serious about, right? you probably hoped for it, looked for it, but deep inside you probably might've been looking for a distraction, something to make you feel better, right? and since he was your best friend it was a different situation, although he probably chose to ask in a bad moment, he shouldn't blame you entirely for that and now act like it's all your fault, but i also understand why he was caught off guard and hurt by that, he was angry and jealous, he wanted to be with you and realizing you didn't choose him was probably very painful, although now he might feel like you realized you have feelings for him because you have no other options, and he wants you a strong and secure feeling from you to feel safe in it, but please don't get upset with my words, let me tell you something first, love.

Let me tell you a story, I myself also went through a similar thing and i also had to deny my best friend a long time ago, because of other reasons but one of the main ones was long distance, i never loved him but i cared for him that's another difference because your friend actually HAS feelings for you, but i know how my friend has felt when i kept explaining him why we can't be together, it made me feel terrible. yet, his feelings for me didn't lessen apparently, and to this day, sometimes, he still implies that his crush on me never went away. but in the meantime he was in many other relationships, serious ones and purely physical ones, while also not telling me much, i probably don't know about a lot but it's his life and not my business - my point is that, he also tried to be happy even while still actively hoping i would give him a chance, because he cares for me more than he does for the people he dated (but again in my story it didn't affect me because i never loved him that way). now picture yourself in our situation, he actually does love you but you guys can't be together right now because of some reasons, and he probably isn't feeling confident about your feelings for him because of the past events, which is why he asks you for "100% yes" or "100% no" right now. unless you give him an answer he waited for for a long time, he has the right to try and look for happiness elsewhere and not involve you in it, he might not be comfortable with sharing that he is having flings with others with someone he actually loves, simply because he doesn't want to hurt you, but it's just natural that he is looking for distractions, he is not looking for someone to replace you but he's also clearly not sure of your feelings for him, do you know what i mean now? he doesn't want the past to repeat, when he already waited for a long time, maybe tried to move on even. i know you don't want him to treat you like a 2nd choice and what i just said might look exactly like he's doing it but i personally don't see it that way, that REALLY is not the case, in my opinion it's the opposite and you are clearly his 1st choice, from what i deducted he also just told you that, but since you were/are out of reach he is trying to find other ways, even if it hurts him that they're not you.

don't close your heart up on him, honey. i know you're anxious and in pain, just try to understand his position, alright? you're both hurting a lot but you care for each other deeply and misunderstanding is not something that should be an obstacle, so please, the only way out of it is to talk to each other and be honest. maybe you could consider making some sacrifices to defeat things that stay in your way of saying "yes" , if relationship with him is something you truly want?

#I'm really sorry if anything i said wasn't right or hurt you or if i don't understand something properly. i really want the best outcome :(#thank you so much for trusting me enough to talk about it and to ask for advice. i really hope my way of thinking doesn't hurt you more #anonymous #answered #long post

0 notes

ficmachine · 1 year

Note

Ok this is really silly but ever since I've read that one post you made about glamrock freddy/ monty being with a shy, small, new dancer animatronic, I've had an idea I can't get out of my head. What if the reader used to be an animatronic in Sister Location made to dance Ballet with Ballora? Maybe they were really close and would dance together like the reader being able to pick her up despite being shorter. Maybe something happened and they don't remember anything about the SL or Ballora when they transferred to the PizzaPlex, but for 'some reason' they are really good at ballet. What if the PizzaPlex brought back Ballora to dance with them somehow and the reader suddenly remembers and they have a reunion?What would Freddy/Monty think of them dancing together? Would they be jealous? Would they love how good they are at Ballet? Would they think it's cute that they're really good friends with Ballora and are always competing against one another? Ex: "I bet I can do more Spins than you >:(!!"

(lolll sorry if this makes you uncomfortable to do for some reason, or it's bad somehow. This is my first ask ;-;)

hi dude!

This is a very good idea and it seems like you have a lot of it fleshed out already- but i no longer write for animatronic reader, nor do i write female characters unless its an off-handed mention or a small appearance.

with that said tho! it really does seem like you have some good fleshed out chunk going! :0 by all means flesh this out more! post it as your own! i know i'd definitely be down to read that! (it's just not my cup of tea to write unfortunately ;u; )

but if you DO write it, even if its just bullet points or whatever, small hcs and stuff (or fuck if you need help with it or something im down to beta read and throw ideas at you!) pls tag me in it!

don't get discouraged btw! it's a very lovely first ask <3 i'm honoured that i was the one you sent it to even tho i know it must've taken a lot to just hit send <3

#bug responds #even if you just want to talk abt it im down!#itd def be easier for me to talk abt it than write it as a fic/hcs ;w;#im still trying to get into a swing of things and am slowly working on like uhhh....#5.. different fics that ive been on and off writing for the last few months ;w;#most are 3k+ words so far and idt ill wrap them up anytime soon gjkdfhg #fnaf related #but yes my DMs are open if you want to chat!#tho youre better off messaging my main over on MimeMachine jUSt in case i dont notice it since i have this blog muted for the most part #happy new year's btw!! <3

0 notes

saintlike78 · 3 years

Note

Hey Love! Since u want to know my requests here go more one; Marauders x Fem!Reader (I'm a just a little bit obsessed about them hihi:), the reader is pregnant from her first baby and she's so emotional and sensitive cuz pregnancy hormones and she's crying for everything, at the same time she gets mad about anything, and she's horny all time, so she's like a mess of feelings.

(I thought this idea after seeing a scene from Grey's Anatomy, so if you want to check it out to understand; season 9, episode 12, minutes 02:40 to 04:00)

By; Cora🌈 (and the fic that u made about my last request is more perfect than I ever imagined <3)

Those stupid hormones [Poly Marauders]

A/N: Another great request from Cora! This was so fun to write. We all know that out three boys would be the sexiest dilfs ever, you can’t prove me wrong.

Pairings: Poly! Marauders x Fem! Pregnant! Reader

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: NSFW 16+, very soft and fluffy, dry humping, polyamorous relationship, pregnancy pains, mention of morning sickness and nausea. As always lmk if I missed anything.

The cool water dripped down your face as you stared at your flushed reflection; pink from the blush that had crept its way up your neck and latched itself onto your cheeks. The nap you had woken from had done nothing to soothe the surge of emotions that ran through you like electricity, the cause being the life growing in your belly. The news of your pregnancy had brought you and your husbands nothing but immense joy, but actually being pregnant was another story and you weren’t even that far along, already dreading the next few months filled with pain and changes – you just wanted your baby to be here already and spare you the grittiness in between.

Having dried your face with your towel and concluding that the pink that had overtaken your face and neck wasn’t going away, you made your way to the living room where the hushed voices of your husbands were residing. Trudging down the hallway you could feel the warmth between your legs, arousal churning, making your face even pinker than it already was.

Having finally made it to the living room you looked upon your three beautiful men, enjoying seeing them relaxed just being with each other and waiting for you.

James and Sirius were seated on the long couch, cuddled up in one end and conversing gently with one another, a rare sight of calm between the two.

Remus was sitting in the armchair with a book in hand focused on the words in front of him not paying attention to James and Sirius’ conversation, but smiling fondly when his eyes sometimes left the page to observe two of his lovers.

As Remus’ eyes left the page for his momentary check on Pads and Prongs, he caught sight of your figure looming in the doorway, a gentle smile on your face as you also observed the two men on the couch.

“Hi bun, good nap?” Remus asked as soon as he noticed you, closing and putting his book down on the small table beside the armchair; the two others looking up as well and smiling at you.

You only hummed in acknowledgment as you made your way towards the scarred man who’d asked the question, crawling on the chair to straddle his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck not giving him any time to process before your lips were on his in a needy kiss. Even though he was surprised, he reciprocated in no time wrapping his arms around your body and holding you closer to him. You whined lowly into the kiss as he slipped his tongue past your lips, your hips instinctively grinding down gently, testing the waters.

Your kiss was interrupted by the sound of Sirius clearing his throat very loudly and dramatically, not enjoying not being a part of whatever was going on between yourself and Remus. You turned your head to look at the culprit of the sound, breathing heavily as you stared at him with wide eyes, both James and Sirius looking back at you with a questioning raised eyebrow.

Remus placed a hand on your cheek to turn your face back to face his, his own brow also raised to match the two others' look of questioning.

“What’s going on Bunny? Not that I’m complaining, just curious,” Remus asked, but a cheeky smile and tone replacing his normal calm and serious voice.

Sirius adding to Remus’ question, “I’m also taking it you’re not cross with us anymore.” Sirius referring to the reason for you taking your nap; you practically being sent to bed after snapping at James for making your tea too hot, then being told off by Remus and Sirius only for you to cry and snap at them as well and Remus ‘suggesting’ a nap for you to cool down.

“No, I’m sorry for being mean… especially to you, Jamie,” you turned to look at James, giving him an apologetic smile.

“That’s okay, baby… I know you didn’t mean it,” he smiled back, his usual big goofy smile, letting you know that he wasn’t upset any longer, probably never was.

You turned back to Remus, looking into his eyes and letting yourself momentarily be lost in them, “I just really need you right now,” you said distractedly, earning yourself a smile from the lycanthrope you were seated on.

Remus leaned forward to kiss your nose, your face scrunching up in the process. His hands snaked around to grip under the back of your thigs before standing with you in his strong grasp, making the short journey to the couch and waiting for James and Sirius to break from each other so that he could seat himself between them.

When Remus was seated with you comfortably, James reached forward to tug a piece of hair behind your ear, stroking your cheek in the process.

“You feeling better, darling? You still feeling poorly?” James asked, your days lately having been filled with nausea, morning sickness, and discomfort.

“I’m feeling better… just a little achy,” you sighed.

“Where are you achy?” Sirius reached forward to rub up and down the expanse of your back, whilst his other hand rubbed gentle circles on your growing stomach.

“A little in my back… my boob… and my…” you paused, taking Sirius’ hand moving it lower on your stomach, right above your ache, “… here.”

“Ahh, I see,” Sirius nodded calmly, though Remus and James didn’t miss the small sparkle in Sirius’ eyes at the excitement.

You slowly started grinding your hips onto Remus’, frustrated tears gathering in your eyes at your desperation, “please,” you breathed out.

“Aww, bunny, don’t cry… we’ll help you out,” Remus laughed, grabbing your sides to stabilize you.

“Don’t laugh at me! I can’t help it… I’m so achy,” your frustration was clear, and the tears that had gathered threatened to spill.

“We’re not laughing, darling, you’re just so adorable,” James grinned, taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers with his.

“I’m sorry, please just help me… please,” the first tears fell and slowly ran down your cheeks as you continued your grinding, not actually sure why you were crying.

Sirius removed the hand from your back and wiped your tears with the pad of his thumb while cooing, “Don’t worry, puppy, we got you.”

With that he reached a hand into the loose shorts you were wearing, reaching under the waistband of your panties as well, not wanting to put any more stress on you by teasing, his fingers instantly found your clit.

You did miss the rougher sex you would have before you found out you were pregnant, but the boys refused to put you in any sort of stressful situation when you were already going through so many changes and experiencing so many things at once; they decided that it would be best to be soft and gentle with you unless you specifically requested something else.

“Go ahead, grind that pretty pussy on my hand until you cum, pretty pup,” Sirius said as his fingers slowly started rubbing circles on your clit as your hips picked up speed at his words.

A breathy moan left your lips followed by a whimper of pleasure as your eyes fluttered close at the sensation.

Remus’ hands had moved to hold your hips, aiding your movements and choosing the speed at which you moved.

James took your face in his hands, “eyes on me, darling,” he spoke to which you complied, opening your eyes to look at his face. James leaned in for a kiss, enjoying the noises you would choke on when you ran out of breath, the small whines and whimpers being enough for him to cum in his trousers, but he controlled himself – this was for you.

Sirius’ fingers picked up speed as saw the pleasurable shiver run through your body and the small twitch it was accompanied by.

Your breathing increased and the moans became less controlled as the familiar feeling of pleasure grew in the pit of your stomach. Remus picked up the speed of your hips, occasionally bucking his hips to create more friction and pressure for you, but also creating friction on his cock trapped in the restraints of his slacks. Remus’ breathing increased as well, a few grunts and small low moans could also be heard leaving his mouth.

“Gonna cum,” you moaned out as your hips lost their rhythm, stuttering slightly as the pressure in your abdomen gave away, your orgasm ripping through your body, hands gripping Remus’ shoulders to stabilize yourself as your body shook from the orgasm.

Sirius’ fingers were still working on your clit, working you through the feeling, the moans you were releasing like music to his ears.

Remus’ hips bucked once more before he shook as well, releasing a strangled and stuttering moan, his cum making a mess in his smart slacks. “Fuuuck… baby,” he breathed out as he came, his fingers gripping your hips, but not hard enough to hurt you.

Sirius’s grin was so large you were sure it would break his face. He removed his hand from your shorts, kissing your cheek before cheekily looking at Remus. James was trying to keep his smile at bay, but failed miserably, a small giggle escaping his lips.

“Damn, puppy, look what you did,” Sirius grinned.

You looked at Remus’ face, who sported a lopsided smile; you were always surprised at the effect you would have on them at times, this had happened before, but it wasn’t often.

You giggled slightly with James, “Sorry, Remmy.”

“No need to apologize… this is just what happens when an unbelievably sexy, soon-to-be milf sits on top of me,” he laughed, winking at the last statement, causing all of you to burst out laughing.

“You’re going to be the sexiest milf ever and we’ll be the sexiest dilfs, all the other parents are going to run away screaming,” Sirius joked, standing proudly to do a couple of poses, showing off his muscles, James standing as well to pose with him, another fit of laughter rolling through all of you.

You shook your head, “I love you, my most sexy, soon to be, dilfs.”

“We love you too, pretty baby.”

Tags: @dracosafety, @justadreamyhufflepuff, @teenwolfbitches28, @emma67, @trouble-in-space, @sciapod, @kermiemoon, @autumnandwinteraesthetics, @roonilwazlibswhore, @whitecastles, @sprucewoodlover, @lexi_shoto,

If crossed out it means I couldn’t tag you!

#Cora 🌈#poly marauders #marauders x you #marauders x reader #marauders fluff #marauders smut #remus lupin #james potter #sirius black

1K notes · View notes

astaroth1357 · 3 years

Note

I don’t know if this’ll make the cut, but brothers with an MC wearing their (the brothers) clothes, and I’m talking full ensemble not just a random jacket or accessory (you can delete if you’re not comfortable of course)

So when left with the question of whether this was a full on clothing theft or a cosplay of some kind, I'm going with theft because that's just funnier to me. Just a little MC marching around in Beel's tent of an outfit… Hilarious. 🤭

MC Steals the Brothers’ Outfits

Lucifer

It started out like any other morning, Lucifer woke up early in bed - as he always does - but when he rolled onto his side to stir the MC, he found their side of the bed empty…

Normally, he’d have thrown up the alarm in an instant, but his mind was still groggy as he tried to recall what happened the night before… He could have sworn the MC slept over… unless…

MC: “Good morning, love.”

Their voice was enough to get him sitting up again and he uh… well he was not prepared for what he saw. The MC was sitting with their legs crossed at his desk, attempting to imitate his “I’m-in-Complete-Control-Here” energy as much as they possibly could, but with an added detail…

They were wearing his clothes. His favorite suit to be specific which was tailored to his much bigger frame, resulting in a frankly ridiculously ill-fitting look on their smaller human body...

MC: *picks up a poisoned apple off the desk, continuing their very best Lucifer-impression* “You should get up, love. We have an early meeting today and we can’t keep Lord Diavolo waiting.”

The MC appeared to polish the apple with his sleeve for a moment before taking a bite, looking pleased with themselves before their eyes widened in complete horror. It only took a split second for them to spit the unchewed hunk of apple into a nearby waste basket and toss the apple away in panic.

MC: “Ah FUCK!! I forgot I can’t eat these!!! SHIT!!”

Their panic only grew as Lucifer could no longer hold in his laughter, the booming volume of which is enough to wake up all his brothers throughout the House.

MC: “Lucifer, don’t just sit there laughing!! Bring me some water or something!!! LUCIFER!!!”

Mammon

Look, Mammon always gets up late so not being able to find, like, any of his normal clothes was a serious problem! He’d already dug through half his closest and still couldn’t find anything!!

He had a photoshoot that he had to get to in less than hour and he still needed to take a shower, get dressed, get his stuff together, then bolt halfway across town before-

MC: *literally kicks open his door Kuzco-style* “Yo, yo, yo!! What’s up, Mammon??”

First off, the sudden loud bang of his door hitting the wall nearly scared him out of his skin, but before he could even yell at the MC for their weird entrance his brain had to process what they were wearing….

Good news! He found his missing clothes, the MC had thrown them on while he was sleeping - sunglasses and all - and now stood before him with a toothy grin on their face.

MC: “What's the problem, Mams? Lucifer got your tongu-EEEK!”

Apparently, they weren't expecting Mammon to literally lunge at them and capture them in a tight hug, practically lifting them off their feet with a laugh.

Mammon: “What'cha think your doin', MC?? I'm gonna need those back ya know?”

MC: *laughs loud and bright, throwing their arms around his neck* “I know, I know... But I wanted to surprise you!” *stops laughing suddenly and blinks* “Huh…”

Mammon watched the MC experimentally lift his glasses off their nose then put them back down, repeating the action several times before snickering.

Mammon: *frowns* “What's so funny?”

MC: “Nothing really but… Mammon, do you wear these just to make everything look like gold?”

Mammon actually had to pause before responding, pulling the MC closer with a devilish grin.

Mammon: “Nah… I ‘cause got all the gold I need right here~”

MC: *chuckles and nuzzles his cheek* “Nice save...”

Mammon: *his cheeks flush and he frowns* “I dunno what your talkin’ about... But could ya go put on a t-shirt or somethin’? They’re paying me big for this shoot and I really gotta go!”

Leviathan

Another convention, another cosplay far too complex to ever hope to peel out of… Though Levi would never regret wearing his five piece Lord of Shadow cosplay, it’s a heavy thing and certainly not something he can change out of in a bathroom stall…

When he finally got back to the House, he wasn’t looking to do anything but drag his tired body back to his room and change into some more manageable clothes… but… well…

When Levi opened his door, he saw the MC sitting alone at his computer desk playing a game by themselves. That was all well and good but… WHY IN DIAVOLO’S BLACK HELL ARE THEY WEARING HIS CLOTHES???

When they heard the door, the MC whipped their head back and they both stared at each other in an awkward silence… His clothes didn’t even fit them right!-or maybe they did?? His mind was panicking because they had the collar of his shirt covering their mouth and it looked so moe it was actually ridiculous!

Levi: ……….

MC: ………….

MC: …. “I can explain.”

Levi: ……. “Y-yea?”

MC: “I was having trouble on this one level and you wouldn’t pick up the phone… so I thought ‘What would Levi do?’... and it escalated…”

Levi: “You think??”

Levi felt like he could die right there, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was from embarrassment or happiness… On the one hand, the MC was literally trying to be him in order to get better at video games - which was flatteringly adorable… And on the other, the MC is pretty much cosplaying as him, right in front of him… and looked so damn cute doing it too…

MC: “Is this weird…? This is weird. I’m sorry, I’ll go change-”

Levi: NO-agh! *he throws a hand over his own mouth, surprised by how loud he just shouted* … “U-uh… no it’s fine…”

MC: “Okay...?”

MC: “But could you put your phone down? I think you’ve been taking pictures for the past two minutes…”

Levi looked down at his hand and sure enough he unconsciously pulled out his phone in camera mode and has been spamming the “Capture” button long enough to have his thumb cramping...

Levi: “Oh.” *stops for a moment, then seems to second guess himself*

Levi: “Uh… just one more?”

Satan

When you share a house with Mammon, you grow accustomed to not being able to find things from time to time, but an entire outfit??

When he woke up one morning to find that he couldn't find any of his normal clothes, he blamed Mammon right off the bat…

I guess in hindsight, what would Mammon want with his jacket? But anger doesn't always jump to the most rational conclusion, you know?

After searching for "long enough," Satan stormed out of his bedroom on a warpath. He didn't stop his march until he was banging on Mammon’s door with a closed fist!

Satan: “Mammon!! What did you do with my clothes you useless, money-grubbing asshole!?”

When he didn’t get a reply, likely because Mammon was hiding in his closet or something, he was about to kick the door in when he felt a tap on his shoulder...

When he turned his head, much to his surprise, he found his missing clothes!... They were on the MC - right down to the single sleeve - and the MC met his eyes with a mischievous grin…

They had a book in their hands he recalled seeing once at the library: "101 Ways to Prank Your Partner," open like they'd been reading down the hallway.

MC: … Page 47.

They winked at him before bolting back down the hallway in a fit of giggles and oooh, it was on now.

Satan spent the morning chasing the MC through the House, both laughing and dashing around in reckless abandon. He really needed his clothes back and he wouldn’t mind an extra hour or two with the MC when he got them… 😏

Asmodeus

Asmo isn’t exactly a morning person… Though he forces himself awake so he can perform his wake-up routine, by the time he comes to the table it’s a hit-or-miss on how irritable he’s going to be...

Of course, his favorite outfit suddenly disappearing from his massive closet did not help his mood in the slightest!

Who would take his clothes?? Well, that’s not even a question - surely plenty of his devoted, adoring stans would kill to even have his scarf, so maybe the better question was, “How??” Lucifer keeps all the doors and windows magically sealed at night! (He would know, having been locked out on numerous occasions)

Asmo was tearing through his closet, wracking his brain for any place he might have left his beloved outfit, before he heard someone clear their throat by his bedroom door.

What greeted him was a lovely look at the MC wearing the missing clothing in question, even with all the grace and style he would himself!

Asmo: *jaw-drops* “MC???”

MC: *smirks at his delight and winks at him* “Looking for something?”

They strutted into the room with the confidence of a mock fashion model and took a silly vogue pose in front of the closet, barely holding in a fit of laughter from their actions.

MC: “… Or just at me?”

Asmo, of course, snatched them right up in his arms with a delighted squeal.

Asmo: “Oh. My. Diavolo!! MC, you look just gorgeous!!!- Because you look like me, of course.” 🤭

MC: *laughs and cups his cheeks to pull him closer* “Who wouldn't want to be you, Asmo?”

Asmo: “So true… But you’re already perfect, my love~” 😘

And he went on to prove that to them all morning long...

Beelzebub

Beel didn't even get the chance to notice his clothes were missing. He had a tournament the night before and was sleeping even harder than Belphie that morning...

What woke him up was the smell of food: scrambled shadowhawk eggs, hellboar bacon, pancakes with nightshade syrup….

Beel's stomach had him sitting up long before his eyes ever opened, drawn in by his nose alone.

MC: “Beeeeel. Wake up!”

Beel's eyes dragged open at their request and what he found had his mouth watering... The MC had brought him a dining cart with a complete breakfast spread, brimming with portions only Beel could ever finish, but for once he wasn’t looking at the food.

The MC, for whatever reason, had decided to put on his clothes… And keep in mind that Beel's built like an ox compared to almost anybody. They were absolutely swimming under all that fabric (thank the Devil for his suspenders…)

MC: “Congratulations!!!”

They throw their arms up excitedly, making the unzipped jacket balloon out like a parachute behind them… It's a remarkably cute image.

Beel: *blinks* “Oh.” *he gets a little pink, still very confused* “What did I do exactly…?”

MC: “You won the championship last night, remember? Or did you forget already??”

The MC takes a step to the side and begins pointing at the plates on the cart.

MC: “I thought we'd celebrate with some breakfast! I brought you eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, cereal-”

As they continued their list, Beel's hand naturally reached out towards the cart eagerly, before something finally clicked in his head. WHY were they wearing his clothes??

Beel: “Wait. MC, why are you wearing-...?”

MC *holds their hand up* “Hold on!”

MC: “-oatmeal, muffins, banana bread, annnd…” *they get onto the bed and plop down onto his lap with a grin*

MC: “Me! Congratulations, Beel!!”

They lean up to peck his cheek while his arms automatically wind around their waist. The combination of their scents already bringing out a different sort of hunger in him…

Let’s say if this is his reward, he'll never lose a game again. 😏

Belphegor

Belphie was in the middle of his afterschool nap in the library. The day was exhausting, so he didn’t even bother changing uniforms… The couches there were comfortable and the space was quiet, really nothing should have woken him up...

But somehow, for whatever reason, something did. A tug… Something was chasing away his dreams by tugging on the cow pillow in his arms.

MC: “Beeelllppphie….”

The tugging did not cease and he half growled in response, still keeping his eyes firmly closed.

Belphie: “What now...?”

MC: “I need this…” *they tug on the corner of the pillow a little harder* “Can you let go please…?”

What kind of question is that?? No one takes away his favorite pillow!

Belphie: *hugs the pillow tighter* “Go away, I'm trying to nap…”

MC: “Noooo please…! I need it for something right now…!!”

They started really pulling on his pillow now and he only held on tighter in annoyance. Since they wouldn’t leave him alone, he finally opened his eyes.

Belphie: “MC! Why are… you..?”

His voice trailed off as he finally saw the MC standing there in his usual outfit. His cardigan was so long over their arms that they had to grasp his pillow through its sleeves...

While his drowsy mind tried to catch up, the MC snatched the pillow from his grasp with one swift yank.

MC: *grins* “Mine now!”

They turned to bolt out of the library, but Belphie snatched them by the waist and dragged them back to the couch with him.

Belphie: “Fine, but then I get a new pillow.” 😏

The MC yelped as he flopped on top of them, pulling them close like a body pillow and resting his head into the crook of their neck to enjoy the soothing smell of their scent mixed with his.

MC: “W-wait Belphie…!” *tries to wiggle out from under his surprisingly heavy deadweight* “I was just playing around…! Please don't fall asleep on me!!”

Belphie: *yawns and settles in, already drifting off* “Too late… G'night, MC…”

MC: “Belphie!!!” 😫

They could complain all they liked, he wasn’t going to let them go for a few hours. Cute or not, MC, nobody takes his pillow!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me requests

3K notes · View notes

a-pretty-nerd · 3 years

Text

UGH! There is not enough Asra Smut out there!

I just finished his ark and I cannot stop thinking about him. Good lord.

So here are some gender neutral NSFW headcannons ❤

Oof this motherfucker is GOoOOoOoD!

Like toe curling good.

They're Horny as fuck.

Like everytime he sees you, the initial feeling is sweet and genuine love but soon that feeling leads to "fuck look how hot they are!"

He cannot keep his hands to himself when you're alone. They're always somewhere unless you explicitly ask to not be touched.

On your knee, holding your hand, on your arm, on your thigh, on your torso, you name it they've been everywhere.

They can't get enough of you ❤

His kisses are always so needy and desperate and begging for more.

The moment your lips touch he takes a deep breath into his chest like he's trying to suck you in.

And they're arms anchor you to his body.

He loves to hold your head when he kisses you. One hand on the back or your head, the other around your waist.

When kisses turn into make outs, his hands take your hips and press them against his. Then proceeds to rock you side to side like you're dancing.

Truly sex with Asra is worthy of the phrase "Making Love" because he really makes love to you.

Unless of course you request something a little more... unhinged?

This bitch F U C K S

Like he always loves slow, sweet, sensual love making but somedays just require a little more, yknow.

Asra is a switch, whatever role you want he's good with and he'll usually let you decide how things are going to go.

But sometimes he has his days where he gets this particular sparkle in his eyes.

Where he begs you to fuck him senseless.

Or whisper in your ear how much he wants you right then and there.

He's very ✨ Versatile ✨

His skin is unreasonably soft. Like he doesn't even have that complex of a routine! How is it THAT soft!?

I feel like Asra isn't like massive or particularly heavy but he does have a very pleasing package.

Like as far as dicks go, Asra has the prettiest dick you have ever seen.

It's like unreasonably perfect looking and it isn't entirely straight. Like it has a slight curve to it on the top.

It's always clean, he's always well groomed, he's always trying to keep himself nice and perfect for you.

He takes great pride in your sex life and relationship.

Like he's not gonna tell everyone you have an amazing sex life, but it's just something that makes him really proud on the inside.

He has a praise kink. He can't help it, he needs that positive reinforcement.

Not because he's insecure or needs to be reassured, but because he LOVES knowing that he makes you feel amazing. He loves knowing he's doing such a good job.

Body Worship 100%

So he loves your entire body but when it comes to sex, he has an affinity for your hips and thighs.

He loves to hook his hands around your thighs and just plow into you. His favorite positions are positions he can do that in.

His hands just fit so perfectly around them.

Receiving oral is sooooooo fun for him. It's such a nice treat for him he loves it. And you do it so well~

He especially loves it when you bite or suck on his thighs while you use your hands to pump his shaft.

Just to sit back and relax and get head? Fuck he'd do anything for that.

He also does love to give oral. But he's a total tease.

Oral from Asra is borderline torture until he suddenly has you shaking as you orgasm.

He looooooves to play with you and watch you toss and turn and moan. It's so fun for him.

But try the same teasing torture on him and he's a total whimp. He'll be begging for more in no time.

I could totally see them into minor bandages and dom/sub play.

They love spanking.

And leaving secret little love bites all over your body. Especially your inner thighs.

No matter what though, sex has to be intimate. He hates quickies for this reason.

Like yeah it's hot and fun in the moment but after they're done they just wanna hold you close and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

He doesn't really care for nicknames. Like Daddy/Mommy stuff isn't really his deal. Like he'll try anything for your sake but he gets nothing out of it. Master/sir also isn't a thing for them. It just reminds them of when you used to call him that and it's just uncomfy.

He wants you to call him by his name when things get dom/suby.

"Yes Asra." "Please Asra." "Fuck me Asra." He loves to hear his name pour out of your mouth like that. It's like you know exactly whom you belong to- I MEAN COMMITTED TO.

Outdoor sex. All I'm gonna say.

He really likes toys and lingerie. Anything that's a new fun and playful way to play with each other's bodies he's down for.

They have a thing for finishing inside of you. It's an intimacy thing for them.

Not like a, "marking" kind of way or even a "get you pregnant" kind of way. They just find it so much more intimate and pleasing then pulling out and just spraying you.

Unless you ask him to pull out, he will fully sheath inside as deep as possible and hold you tightly when he comes.

He's not loud, but he is a moaner and a talker during sex.

He makes some pretty awesome sounds when he's starting to fall apart too.

You know he's really feeling it and getting close when his eyes roll in the back of his head and his jaw drops.

He's flexible and loves new positions.

Aftercare is always top priority for them. Even if the sex wasn't particularly intense.

#the arcana #asra headcanons #asra smut #asra x mc #asra x reader #asra alnazar #asra arcana

2K notes · View notes

id-rather-be-an-outsider · 2 years

Text

Respite Among Chaos | Pt 1

Porco Galliard x athlete!reader

summary: You’ve never had much reason to speak with Porco - that is, until you find yourself on common ground with him.

word count: 6630 (including words in text messages)

a/n: I had this idea at the same time as a smutty fic idea, I guess this is the soft fluffy fic to counteract it LMAO anyways, I hope ya’ll enjoy sweet Porco! reader is a survivor of abuse! there is one section where it’s discussed but it’s only a broad overview. that being said if the mention of abuse is triggering for you please be mindful and read at your own risk! I’m a survivor too, and it’s therapeutic for me to incorporate my life experiences into my writing, so if this writing resonates with any of you, I send you all my love 💕

masterlist

I’m a good person. I’m a good person, right? Right? Am I a good person? Or am I a bad person? Am I a bad person? I must be. I must be, otherwise why would he have said something like that? Reiner’s known to be a good guy, so why would he say something like that unless he meant it and it was true? I don’t want to be a bad person, I don’t want to end up alone, I don’t want everyone to hate me, I don’t want-

My spiral of anxiety causes my vision to go blurry enough from my tears that I don’t even see him coming. My train of thought ends when I walk face first into… “Porco?” I ask, eyes widening when I realize that yes, I did indeed bump into him. Immediately I look down, sideways, anywhere but at him when I’m just starting to cry. “Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Porco says, “Don’t worry, I wasn’t paying attention either. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I mumble, and he huffs out a light chuckle.

“Yea, and so is everyone else who says that when they’re on the verge of tears.” I sniff, trying to blink them away, worried someone will see me and be able to tell my emotional state if I were to wipe my eyes. “Hey, do you want a ride back to your dorm? I’m just walking to my car now, and I need to grab something from Pieck anyway. She’s your roommate, right?” I nod my head, but scratch at my arm, indecisive as ever.

“Are you sure?” I ask him. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to take me, or something.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Pieck said you and I have similar music tastes so I’ve been hoping to catch you at one point or another to swap playlists.” This comment temporarily distracts me from my upset, and my face heats up of its own accord. I always find it a little embarrassing when people say good things about me or hype me up to other people, which Pieck does all the time. We met in our senior years of high school and when we found out we were both going to Marley U, we decided to room together, and now we’re on year two of being roomies. She tries to get me to come around her friends all the time, but it can be hard. My anxiety makes it really difficult for me to make friends, partake in conversations, even just going out in public can be scary - so she’s always super happy when I do try.

I try, “Well, um, my phone’s dead, so I can’t really give you my playlist.”

Porco shrugs it off, replying, “Not a problem. We can just talk about whatever’s bothering you, then. Come on.” He motions for me to follow him, and I don’t want to be rude, so I do. It’s not that I don’t want a ride, it’s just… I don’t want to be a burden.

When we get to his car, a blue Chevy Malibu (how on earth he can afford it, I have no clue), he holds the passenger door open for me, not closing it until I’m all the way settled. I note that he has a laminated name card hanging from his rear view mirror reading, ‘Maliblue,’ and if I wasn’t feeling so shitty, I would probably laugh at the witty name for his car.

As he backs out of his parking spot, he says, “So, what happened to lead up to that?”

I play with a strand of my hair, braiding and unbraiding it. “It was nothing. I… I was just at practice, and Reiner… he…” I trail off when tears well up in my eyes, really not wanting to fall apart in Porco’s car.

While Porco drives, he takes a hand off the wheel and pats my shoulder. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be an emotionless wall, that’s not you. It’s not anyone.”

“Everyone else just seems to be better at not being overly emotional than me,” I confess. “If I didn’t have anxiety I feel like I wouldn’t be such a burden.”

“Burden?” He asks, not looking away from the road, but his eyes narrow and he furrows his brows in confusion. “From what I know, no one would describe you as a burden, y/n.”

“I don’t know, I still feel like I am.”

“Why?”

“Well, comments from Reiner telling me I ‘need to stop being an asshole and just worry about myself’ when I’m just trying to tell him we need to practice for the coed four by four don’t really make me feel great, and neither does him saying I’m ‘too emotional for a team sport,’ but I don’t know how to unpack that, so.” I sniff and wipe my eyes.

We pull up to a stoplight and Porco turns to look at me. “Are you fucking serious? Like, deadass, he actually said that to you?” He looks at me with a shocked expression, and I give a small nod, wiping the tears now openly flowing down my face. “What the fuck is wrong with him? Why? Why did he even say that? What even happened?”

I sniff again and my voice wavers as I say, “Me, Marcel and Ymir were practicing for the coed four by four, and Reiner is part of it, and he had spent like, half of the practice doing everything but practice with us and the rest of us were irritated that he didn’t seem to be taking it seriously, so while they were practicing their handoffs I went and asked him if he could please come and practice since me and Ymir have never had him on the coed relays before and need to get used to his pacing and handoffs and stuff, and then he said that first comment, and I guess he was able to tell that it hurt my feelings because then he said the second comment.” I sneeze, and Porco blesses me as I sniffle. We sit in silence for a minute and I can almost feel his rage radiating off of him.

I add, “And I said it exactly to him as I said to you. I know because I thought about it fifty times before telling him, and after he said that, I thought about what I said fifty more times to try and figure out if I actually said something that really made me an asshole.”

His voice is strained, quiet, like the calm before the storm. “Why didn’t Marcel and Ymir say anything? Why didn’t they stand up for you?”

“They don’t know. I… I told Coach Erwin I needed to go. I asked him to tell them it was just a family emergency but that everything was fine.” When the light turns green I fidget in my seat, not completely turning away from him, but making sure he can’t see how puffy my eyes are.

He says, “One moment. Hey Siri! Call Marcel!” I whip my head around and gape at him, mouthing, ‘What are you doing?’ Porco holds his finger up, and we both listen while the built-in Bluetooth on his car rings, and rings, and…

“Hello brethren, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Marcel’s voice resonates through the car, and I stifle a laugh at seeing Porco roll his eyes.

“For somebody so dorky I’m surprised you’re a D1 athlete. Anyways, we have a group meeting over at Pieck’s place. Reiner is excluded from this meeting and he hears nothing about it or I will kill you all. Also…” Porco pauses to look at me, then continues, “Tell Ymir to come, and to bring her girlfriend. Y/n needs a pick-me-up.”

“Oh jeez, did something happen with her and Reiner at practice? I knew she had to leave, but Erwin said it was a family thing…”

“Bingo. I’ll tell you more when everyone’s there. I’m on my way with y/n now.”

Marcel’s voice goes up an octave in excitement. “Oh, hi y/n! See you soon!”

I quietly mumble, “Hi Marcel… sorry for leaving.”

“It’s okay, I’m sure it was justified from the sound of it. I’ll see you soon!”

•••

“He WHAT!?!?!?” Ymir yells at the top of her lungs, jumping out of her seat with fire in her eyes. A teary-eyed Historia launches herself to the couch cushion on my left and wraps me up in a tight hug.

“That’s what I said!” Porco shouts in agreement, “My vote is to beat his ass.”

“You’ll get kicked off the football team, Pock.” Pieck points out. “It also wouldn’t help y/n if her coaches think she’s starting drama. Reiner could very well spin it that way, if we’re being honest. So first, how are you feeling?”

Pieck, who’s already sitting on my right side, grabs one of my hands, squeezing it encouragingly. She smiles at me, and I know she wants me to be honest, so I say, “Well… it kinda does make me a little bit happy to know you all care. I thought maybe it wasn’t that important.”

“And what else?” Historia chimes in.

“You just want me to put all my feelings out on the table for everyone to see?”

“Yes, because that’s what friends are for,” She replies in a motherly attitude, “So open up, because we’re your friends, and that’s what friends do.”

“I… I just…” I hesitate, nervous from the five of them staring at me. “This is gonna sound stupid, but can you guys not look at me? I’m embarrassed.”

Porco furrows his brows, but Ymir speaks before he can question it. “You heard her, Galliard. Turn around.” They all rotate to face away from me, and Ymir asks, “This good, track star?”

I nod, then realize they can’t see it. “Um, yes. Thanks. Um… the truth is… what Reiner said- it hurt really bad.” My voice cracks, and Pieck gives my hand another supportive squeeze. “I’ve lost friends before, and it always hurts because I think it’s my fault, even when I don’t know how it could be. If it was once, then… I don’t know. But it feels like it’s happened a lot more than once.”

“Y/n… this isn’t your fault.” Historia says softly. “You have to know that you did nothing wrong here. It’s all Reiner.”

Marcel adds, “He’s probably just jealous of your times. I think he has a hard time being realistic about the dedication it takes to be a track and field athlete and is expecting single event times for multiple events.”

“Maybe he doesn’t really want to be on the relay team?” Historia guesses.

Porco gripes, “If he didn’t want to be on the relay team all he needed to do was tell his coach.”

“No, he definitely wanted to be on the relay team, otherwise he wouldn’t have let Marco get injured.” Ymir says spitefully. “I’m still not sure it wasn’t on purpose. Marco’s too nice to say anything, but it’s not like he isn’t the reason you were injured before, Marcel.”

“That was an accident!” Marcel defies her, “And I’m fine now!”

Porco cuts in, “Technically you still have to take ice baths every day-“

“-I actually do that regularly now because y/n suggested it, it feels nice and I personally-”

“I personally don’t think that matters-”

“Will you two stop bickering?” Historia says, walking over to the pair and pulling their ears until they quit with the back and forth.

Pieck laughs, but agrees with Historia. “Hisu’s right, all of that is just semantics at this point. What do you want to do about it, y/n?”

All eyes turn to me and I swallow, wishing the decision could be someone else’s. “Honestly… I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want him to think I’m a snitch. I’d rather just have your support. I don’t want him to see he got to me. Well, beyond today, that is.” My eyes flicker to each person’s for a second, but I look away when I get to Porco’s. There’s something different about his gaze that makes it hard to hold eye contact, though I’m not sure what. Tentatively I add, “And maybe have a movie night with ice cream and a fort.”

•••

Many hours later, the six of us are back together, Ymir and Hisu cuddled up on the lounger, me and Pieck on either end of the loveseat, Porco and Marcel camped out on the ground, and fairy lights, pillows and blankets strewn everywhere. As it turns out, we’re not very good at fort-building.

A horror film is playing and popcorn is being tossed around while we save the ice cream for the second movie. Marcel was kind enough to buy pizza for the group, so everyone is chowing down as we watch the movie.

It feels… nice. Watching Marcel scoot between Pieck’s legs, letting her card through his hair and put tiny little braids in it, complete with sparkly rubber bands. Historia fitting almost perfectly in Ymir’s lap while the latter nuzzles her face into Hisu’s neck, pretending to be bored with the movie but really she’s hiding in preparation for any jumpscares. Every now and then, Porco looks back at me to steal a piece of popcorn, and save for a foreign feeling in my stomach, it all feels so normal. I find myself wishing this could happen every night.

After the first movie, Ymir and Historia leave because they have plans for a hike in the morning, and Marcel beats Porco to steal their spot, leaving him as the odd man out, which he very audibly complains about for half of the movie. After the second movie, Pieck announces that she has to go to bed so she’s well-rested for a test the next day, at which point Porco very dramatically pulls himself up onto the loveseat. “I have the high ground, Porco.” I say smugly.

“Did you really just quote Star Wars?” He says, and when I laugh, he glares at me, rolling his eyes.

“Mmphmm! Hmphmm!” Marcel has a mouthful of pizza and an air-five waiting for me.

I let out an onomatopoeia as I meet his air-five, and Porco groans, “You guys are nerds.”

“Says the person watching scary movies with two nerds,” Marcel retorts, “If it looks like a duck.”

I continue, “If it quacks like a duck!”

And Porco finishes, “Shut the fuck up.”

Marcel guffaws, and I snicker under my breath as the third movie starts. When I realize we’re upgrading from slashers to paranormal, I gasp, uttering, “Oh, no.”

Porco side-eyes me, asking, “What?”

I whisper hoarsely, “I’m a lil’ bitch when it comes to anything ghost or demon-related!”

He menacingly challenges, “I dare you to not put your hands up or turn your face away for the entire movie.”

Marcel cuts in, “I know you’re not trying to make my bestie have nightmares over there, Pocky-boy.”

“And what are you gonna do if I am?” Porco taunts his brother.

“Leave you here.” Marcel states simply.

Porco laughs. “Sure you will.”

•••

“He actually left me!” Porco says to me in exasperation. Marcel ditched him while he went to the bathroom and gave me fifty bucks to say nothing, so I, being as broke as I am, said nothing, waiting for Porco to realize, then run out and check.

“I think the real winner here is teamwork.” I comment unhelpfully, then say, “You’ll be fine, Porco. Our loveseat opens up into a bed. Also… we have a spare charger and pair of clothes. Marcel stays the night all the time.” I scratch the back of my head, knowing that Pieck and Marcel don’t exactly want their super-brand new, super-tentative relationship to be known about yet. “But that fact stays between you and me.”

“I suspected anyway.” He replies, then motions for me to move. “If you serve us up ice cream I’ll get the bed set up and we can watch more movies. Do you have class tomorrow?” I nod my head no, and he grunts in confirmation. “Then it’s settled.”

I hop off the couch and get to work, carefully crafting up two perfect bowls of ice cream, one with all my favorite toppings and one waiting to be decorated. “Hey Porco,” I call from the kitchen, “What toppings do you want?”

“Uh, whatever you used on yours.” He responds absentmindedly, and I comply, returning to the bed set up with all the plushest pillows and blankets, Porco lounging in the middle with his head resting on the couch back.

“You look comfortable.” I observe as I hand him his bowl of ice cream, plopping down next to him. “What are we watching now?”

“I was thinking Ringu, is that okay?”

“Uh, are you trying to get me to have insomnia?”

“I mean, not necessarily. Just a healthy dose of fear.”

“Uh-huh. If we watch this you’re not allowed to have any qualms about me hiding behind my fingers.”

“Bet.” He says, stretching out his arms and reaching behind me for the remote.

Once he starts the movie, he reaches back around to set it down again, and I notice his arm doesn’t leave this time. I feel a twinge of I-don’t-know-what, and start chowing down on my ice cream before it melts. The silence is comfortable. Until he asks, “Why do you think Reiner said that to you?”

Of course he has to ask that. “I… don’t know. I mean… a long time ago during freshman year, he did ask me out, and… I told him I saw him as a really good friend.”

Porco chortles, only choking on his spoonful of ice cream a little bit. “You did not, y/n.” He gasps out.

“Well it was true! He was really nice back then, and he was a good friend to me. I just… didn’t see him how he wanted me to.” I take a large spoonful so I don’t have to say more.

Porco ponders aloud, “I’ll bet he’s been salty about it ever since. He always wants to be seen as this reliable nice guy, but that’s Marcel. I noticed awhile ago that when Marcel was in the hospital, Reiner changed. It was like he was trying to be my brother.”

My brows shoot up in surprise. “I’ve never thought about it, but you’re right. That’s around the time him and I got close… That’s creepy. After I turned him down, he turned into who he is today. Well, who he is for me today. It wasn’t overnight, I think he was still hoping I would change my mind.”

“I would hope too,” Porco jokes, “Imagine being rejected by one of the nicest people at Marley U.”

I poke his side as hard as I can, but he just brushes it off. “Don’t tease, Porco! That’s mean to him.”

“He’s not here, y/n, you don’t have to save face. I know for a fact you at least dislike that fucker. I hate him and I’ve been open about that since day one. You should join me, it’s freeing.” He remarks with a flourish of his hand.

“Okay, okay! I don’t like Reiner, are you happy?” I say with a shake of my head, failing to conceal my impish smile. “But I would rather just move on and forget about it. Do I want anything to do with him? No. But I don’t want drama either.”

“Got it.” He pretends to scribble down a note. “Don’t make drama for y/n because of Reiner.”

The rest of the night goes without a hitch, and I find myself really coming to like Porco. He’s funny, kind, and hot-headed compared to Marcel, but Marcel has always been even-tempered and nearly impossible to anger, so no surprise there. If I were a betting person, I’d bet Marcel became that way to keep his little brother out of trouble.

At one point I really jump after being on edge for several minutes, and Porco simply wraps his arm around me, saying, “I got you. If it’s too scary I can turn it off.”

“No, no, I can handle it. I just forgot I wasn’t in the movie for second there.”

•••

The next morning, I walk out into the living room in my spandex and a baggy t shirt Marco loaned me (and then just gave me) after one practice when he tripped and spilled a cooler on my head and torso. Long story short, he was carrying it on his shoulder, didn’t see me, then tried to swerve around to miss me, but so did I, and catastrophe struck. It’s also how we became friends, so it’s a memory I look back on fondly.

“Good morning. You look ready to go for a run.”

I jump, whipping around to see Porco who suddenly is cackling. “Fuck, dude, I forgot you were here. You scared the shit out of me!” I say, keeling over in laughter and relief.

“Those movies do a number on you?” Porco asks after wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

“Not this time, actually. I just truly wasn’t expecting it. I woke up so well-rested I thought yesterday night was a dream!” I open the fridge and dig out my usual breakfast: Yogurt, granola, and some water. It’s light, but I prefer heavier lunches and dinners, so it balances out. “Are you hungry, Porco?”

“I already ordered myself DoorDash, I was gonna get you something when you woke up, but…” He motions to the small meal I have. “Are you sure you won’t be hungry after that?”

“Oh! Yea, I always eat this much, I’m kind of basic. If I eat a lot in the morning I can make myself nauseous so I stick to this. Plus, my yogurt is pretty yummy. Want some?”

He looks at me. “What kind?”

“Greek lemon. It slaps, I’m telling you.”

•••

“Holy shit! This is good as fuck!” He says excitedly, “Where do you get this?” He consumes the yogurt cup within seconds.

I smile, happy to have converted another person into a Greek lemon yogurt fiend. “You know the farmer’s market on 86th? They sell tubs, too, they were just out this time.”

“I can see why, I need to start getting this stuff. I’ll pick up one for each of us next time I’m grocery shopping.”

“I actually need to get more now, these two were my last ones. Wanna go? I can drop you off home afterward.”

“Hell yea!” He exclaims, and in minutes we’re in Pieck’s car, jamming out to Ariana Grande, a guilty pleasure of Porco’s and a favorite of mine, as we head to the store specifically for Greek lemon yogurt.

I’m losing my breath while Porco’s trying his darnedest to hit Ari’s high notes, and when I’m singing along, I can feel Porco’s eyes lingering on my face.

“You have a really nice voice, you know. How come you’ve never done karaoke night with everyone before?”

My face goes up in flames, and I’m hoping against hope Porco doesn’t catch my bashful smile. “Oh, thanks. I’m not very confident in my voice, so I’ve just never thought about it.”

“Next time you should come with me. With you as my partner, we’ll beat the whole gang!” He suggests amiably.

I laugh, reminding myself that Pieck’s car won’t drive itself. “I don’t know, I wouldn’t want to steal your thunder. Miss Ari would be awfully jealous of those whistle tones you got there.”

“Okay, first of all, you and I both know I sounded like a smoker on helium, but go off. Second of all, I don’t have a second point, I just wanted to say second of all. Makes me feel important.”

“Are you usually this comedic?” I wonder aloud.

“Eh, only around people that I really like. And you happen to be one of those people.” He states, poking my arm a little for emphasis.

“Well, I’m honored. How can I thank you, Lord Pockolemew?” I pull into a parking spot at the back of the lot, where no cars are. It’s the best way to keep Pieck’s car from getting dents in it, and the weather outside is nice.

“Easy. One, never call me that again.”

“Oh, I’m definitely calling you that again.”

“No. Two, let me pay for the yogurts, and I’ll give you gas money since you’re dropping me home.” He nudges me playfully as we walk past cars of all kinds, and I scratch my arm.

“You don’t need to do that, Porco, it’s fine, really. I appreciate it-“

“Then accept it, y/l/n. I know you’re all about earning things and you don’t want to burden people or waste their time, but what about the people who want to do nice things for you because they think you deserve it?” He probes, and I find that I can’t disagree with him without sounding morbidly depressing, so I hang my head and sigh.

“Fine, just this once. But never again.”

He smiles smugly, like he just won a game of chess. Maybe he did. “Got it. Never again.”

We end up picking up a few more things than the yogurt, mostly because Porco got random cravings for a bunch of raw vegetables and told me to pick out a snack for myself, but he’s still able to carry all the bags on one arm, insisting we don’t need to make two trips, as well as insisting I shouldn’t carry any of them because they’re technically his property since he paid. He also insists on opening the passenger door for me and not letting me load any of the bags into the car.

“Uh, Porco, I’m driving?” I remind him in confusion.

“Nah, it’s all good. We’re going back to your dorm, Marcel’s there and said he’ll take me home, but I wanted to stop somewhere else first. I’ve driven Pieck’s car before.” He turns the key and the engine rumbles to life, even quieter than the Maliblue.

I go along, wary as I am, and am surprised to find us at an ice cream parlor. I look over at Porco, and he’s already watching me with a smirk. “I have it on good authority that you like ice cream.” I can’t help but smile, and he returns mine in earnest.

As we order matching cones, I ask him, “Why are you being so nice to me? Not that you’ve ever really been mean, I just… I don’t know. One moment we were more like acquaintances, casual friends or whatever, and the next, you’re buying me ice cream, driving me around and shit.”

He shrugs. “Don’t know. Guess I didn’t realize how cool you were and it took Reiner being a sack of shit for me to get it through my head. That aside, I’m glad I ran into you yesterday. You’re kinda rad, y/n.”

We’re handed our cones as I respond, “You too, Galliard. You too.”

•••

That afternoon, Porco goes home with Marcel, and then goes for a drive that night. Parked in front of a familiar dorm building, he makes a call. The line rings, the recipient slow to answer. “Hello?” Reiner’s voice is on the other line.

“Sup, Braun.” Porco says, voice colder than a deep freezer. “Listen, I heard about what you said to y/n-”

“-Oh my God, really?” Reiner complains, his voice almost whining. “You’re gonna blindly believe what a random bitch decided to say I said? I thought we were friends.”

Porco’s nostrils flare and he yells, “You called y/n a what!? A what, Reiner? Disrespect her again and I will really fuckin’ beat your ass, the only reason you’re not in the ER right now is because she asked me not to do anything. She doesn’t even know I’m doing this right now.”

Reiner scoffs. “You’re all talk-”

“-Come outside then, bitch! I’m right outside your fuckin’ building, I can see you sitting in your fuckin’ dorm room!”

Several seconds of silence pass, and Porco can see Reiner pull his curtains closed.

“Yea, that’s what I fuckin’ thought. You fucked over my brother, you tried to fuck over Marco, but you’re not about to fuck over y/n just because she wouldn’t go out with you, and we are not friends. You can catch these fuckin’ hands anytime you want, but I promise you, Braun, if you fuck with y/n again I’ll kick your fuckin’ teeth in. Leave her alone.”

“Do you… like her?” Reiner asks Porco.

Porco says, “If I do it’s none of your business, but right now I’m just saying this as her friend. She wouldn’t have ever wanted you anyway. Red shirt ass pussy.” He hangs up after slinging a final insult at Reiner, and starts his car, speeding off down the road into the night.

•••

The next time I show up to practice, I see Porco sitting in the stands watching, and give him a wave, smiling. He gives me a thumbs up and puts his feet up, leaning back in his seat.

Coach Erwin calls me over, and I panic on the inside, but comply. “Yes, Coach?”

“I wanted you to know, y/l/n, that Reiner is no longer on the four by four coed relay. Ymir and Marcel came to me early this morning, and he’s been suspended from the team for a month.”

I’m caught off guard by what he says. “Wait, what? I… It really wasn’t… I’m sure he feels-“

“-You’re one of my best athletes, y/l/n. Braun was bullying you. You’re allowed to stand up for yourself. Anyway, I’m glad your teammates came to me. They care about you.” His eyes soften a little. “I know you have a hard time making friends, but they seem to really have your best interests at heart. Hold those friends close, y/l/n.”

I nod, all seriousness. Coach Erwin is known for giving occasional bits of life advice, and when he does give it, his athletes take it. “Thank you, Coach.”

“Anytime. As for Reiner’s replacement, Colt Grice will be taking his spot in the relay, so make sure you practice handoffs with him. Go warm up, y/l/n.”

“Yes, Coach!” I take off, and Ymir, Marcel and Colt are already warming up together, but they pause and look at me expectantly. I jog up to them and say, “I thought I told you to say nothing.”

Marcel rubs the back of his neck. “Yea, well…”

Ymir admits without any guilt whatsoever: “I made Marcel come with me and we told Erwin everything. When Reiner showed up Erwin called him into the office and he didn’t deny a thing.”

“Wow, just like that?” I say, finding it a bit odd.

“I think Porco might be to blame for that,” Marcel posits, “He came home late last night after going for a drive. Did you see him when you got here, y/n?”

I nod. I glance over at Porco in the stands, and have to hide a smile when I turn back around. “Hey Colt.” I greet the freshman, and he returns the greeting. I had a class with him last quarter, so we’re already fairly acquainted. Plus, he went to high school in Liberio like Pieck and the rest of her friends, so there’s that.

We all chat as we warm up together, go through our stretches, and finally get ready to run. “Hey,” Colt says as we walk to the line, “Porco’s heading this way. Does he normally show up to watch you practice, Marcel?”

Marcel scratches his eyebrow. “Not really, no. I don’t think he’s here for me, though.”

My stomach does a flip, and I’m not sure why, but Colt and Ymir both glancing at me in suspicion makes me nervous. “What?” I ask in annoyance.

“Oh, nothing. Only that you’ve spent a significant amount of time with Porco lately.” Ymir suggestively raises her eyebrows, and I scowl at her.

Colt puts his hands up. “I know nothing, I’m not a part of this, I’m innocent.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Colt.” I say, choosing to not give Ymir the satisfaction of arguing with her. Teasing is her favorite way to get me to come out of my shell, unfortunately.

“Alright,” I announce, “The order before was Marcel, Ymir, Reiner, then me, so you’ll be the third leg, Colt. Coach Erwin doesn’t want us tiring ourselves out so we’re gonna practice our handoffs on the hurdle markers, just so we can get our strides out. Eighty percent, our meet’s on Saturday.”

“Whew, so soft, Coach y/l/n. You’re not gonna make us run the stadium stairs?” Ymir heckles.

“I could make you do it, as payback for not listening to me the other day, Ymir.” I threaten, but she just laughs.

“I know you won’t.”

I sigh. “You’re right, I won’t. Let’s just get started before you keep exposing me for not measuring up to Erwin.”

“Nerd.” Ymir says, and it reminds me of when Porco called Marcel and I nerds. I bite my lip, but it doesn’t hide my smile. She notices and laughs, “Whatcha thinkin’ about over there, huh?”

“How lovely it would be if Historia were here to tell you off, is all.” I lie, but honestly, it would be nice for Historia to tell her off.

We move on, and our first attempt is a little rough, but we gradually improve. By the time we hit our sixth attempt, we’ve gotten into our groove, so we go through it four more times to cement it in.

“Alright, I’m off for distance with Coach Magath, see you guys!” I wave goodbye to Colt and Ymir, who respectively head over to hurdles and sprinting, but before Marcel joins Ymir, he stops me with a hand in my shoulder.

“Wassup?” I ask him, and his eyes shoot between me and (I’m assuming based on the general direction) Porco.

“I just wanted to say, if you… if you and Porco are gonna continue to spend time together, I’m okay with that. You’re one of my best friends, and he’s my brother, so… if anything… were to, well, grow, out of that, I want you to know that it’s okay with me.” If my face could melt it would, and he can definitely see it written all over my features. “Or if that’s not what’s happening, then you can feel free to ignore what I said, and I’m sorry for being mistaken.” His face reddens a little and he laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No!“ I say sincerely, “I mean, Porco’s great, and, since you’re giving me a stamp of approval I hope you don’t mind me saying that he is cute, but I don’t know, it seems like we’re just… hanging out, and he just feels bad for me. I’m sure he doesn’t see me like that.”

He quirks an eyebrow at me. “I don’t know, y/n, I’m just saying, but I’ve never seen him be so interested in ‘just hanging out’ with someone. I’m not gonna get involved since I would be in both parties, but… I hope you guys figure out where each of you would like to stand with each other.” He gives my shoulder a pat and jogs over to sprinting, and I’m about to head over to Coach Magath when Porco calls my name. I turn around, and see him waving me over.

“Hey, Porco!” I say, “What’s the occasion?”

“Just checking up on my new bestie. Making sure Reiner’s slimey ass didn’t try to talk to you some type of way again, but it looks like that’s not an issue anymore.”

I shake my head no. “Apparently he’s been suspended from the team for a month and didn’t even fight it.”

He nods as if he’s affirming a thought to himself. “That’s good. I gotta blast, but I was wondering, do you wanna hang out sometime? Just the two of us, like how we did the other day?”

There’s no way to hide how bashful I am, so I just smile and murmur, “Yea, I would like that. Just text me.”

Porco pulls his phone out, handing it to me to create a contact. I type in my number, and as for the name, I type ‘🤠y/n🤠’, then scroll to the ‘company’ section and type, ‘Porco’s hot new bestie 🥰💅🏽✨’.

He takes his phone back and shakes his head with a grin on his face. “You’re goofy when you want to be, you know that?”

I reply, “Somebody has to be the comedic relief, might as well be me!”

“Y/l/n! Get over here!” Magath yells from across the field.

I grimace. “That’s my cue. See ya!” I take off, embarrassment prominent on my features as I sprint to my Coach. “Sorry, Coach.”

“First Erwin steals you for the relay team, and now your boyfriend shows up to my practice? If I have to deal with any more of this I’m gonna quit.”

“He-he’s not my boyfriend, Coach.” I say quietly, then chirp, “But you’d never quit on me! I’m your star runner!” I put on my most winning smile, nudging him with my elbow.

He sighs, rolling his eyes. “Then tell him to quit acting like your boyfriend or your Coach is gonna have to teach him a lesson about not distracting my only hope of a pay raise.”

“He wasn’t acting like my boyfriend! We’re just friends!” I insist.

“Just get your seventy minutes in. Seventy percent, y/l/n. You’re doing three events on Saturday - don’t you dare get injured.”

•••

On the greyhound back to campus, I get a text from Porco. His name makes my face light up, and Ymir narrows her eyes at me suspiciously. “So you and Porco are a thing now?”

I falter slightly, “Uh, as far as I know, no. We just… talk.”

“Uh-huh. Well, you’ve been doing a lot of talking lately. You should unpack that - you know, when you’re not in denial.” She says patronizingly.

“Whatever, Ymir. I gotta respond to this.” I turn away, leaning into the window of the bus, and open Porco’s text.

Shaking my head, I greet him in turn.

93 notes · View notes

queen-of-the-vampires · 3 years

Text

Don’t Mess With The Queen

Characters: Klaus Mikaelson x Hybrid!Reader

Word count: ~1.7k

Warnings: none

Request by anonymous: Could u do a imagine where the reader is friends with the mystic falls gang and is a werewolf and finds out that she and klaus r mates?

Summary: People who you want to call your friends are planning on killing the love of your life. It’s your job to show them who’s really the boss.

Author’s Note: This is a female!reader. I did change this request a tad, but I hope you like it! I haven’t written for TVD in a while now, so please bear with me on this. After asking a few people, I have decided to end this on a fluffy note. I did write an angsty alternate ending, but I don’t know if the anon who requested wanted that or not.

No one knows why you’re really here. They all think you’re their friend, so they feel comfortable disclosing their plan right in front of you. You want to be friends with them because they seem like genuinely nice people, but they are so fueled by rage and revenge that they’ll do anything to get it… even plotting against your mate, your sire, the love of your life.

Stefan and Damon have spent their entire life fighting each other and putting their noses in places where it doesn’t belong. Elena and Caroline have always been the people who want to fix others, to make them better even if there is nothing wrong with them. Bonnie is always stuck in the middle of everyone’s problems, putting herself and others in danger for no reason.

“So, what’s the plan here?” Elena asks, taking out the last bit of weapons she has stashed in the Boarding House.

“First thing we need to do is pick a location. When is Klaus most vulnerable?” Stefan asks.

“Yeah, the last time we did that, Elijah betrayed us. That moonrock or whatever was our only chance to get him at his weakest.”

“You were one of Klaus’ bitches. What do you think?” Damon asks and turns to you.

“What?” you ask, pulling back from your own thoughts.

“You spent over two years sired to him before Tyler saved you. You must know things that can help here,” Elena says.

What she says is true. You were sired to Klaus for two years, but not in the way they believe. You were sired to him in the beginning when you were first turned by Klaus’ mother. You were a werewolf that was in the same village as Klaus and his family. You two became fast friends, always leaning on each other whenever his abusive father and your abusive mother decided to make you two their toys.

Everything was going fine until one of your own decided to kill the youngest member of the Mikaelson family. There was a family friend of Esther, Tatia, that she used her blood in a spell that would make them the Original vampires. Klaus wanted you to have the same thing, so without his parents knowing, he gave you some of that wine. You were the first-ever turned hybrid that came from a spell.

You and Klaus have spent every moment together ever since. What the gang of Mystic Falls doesn’t know is just how old you are. They think you were just another hybrid that he made with Elena’s blood, stuck with him against your will. Tyler found your pack in the mountains and proceeded to unsire every single one of Klaus’ hybrids. When Tyler got to you, that’s when you started to catch onto what he was doing.

If Tyler wanted to desperately to save you, then you were going to act like you wanted to be saved. You came to Mystic Falls and befriended the vampires in the town. Now, they all think that you hate Klaus as much as they do when really, you’re just as in love with him as you were when you first met him.

“He really liked hiding out in the woods, though, they’re usually on werewolf territory, so good luck trying to get there. It’s probably why you can never find him. The werewolves will get to you before he does. He hears chatter in the wind and he moves to another pack site.”

“That’s smart,” Caroline comments.

“Yeah, so you’re not going to find him there.”

“Guys, we need to figure out something, or else more people are going to get hurt,” Elena says. Sometimes, you really want to kill her so you don’t have to hear her speak. “Klaus needs to die.”

Hearing them talk about killing the love of your life enrages you a little bit. You could take every single person in here without breaking a sweat, but you don’t turn to violence just yet. You take out your phone to let Klaus know exactly what they’re planning. You’d be a bad girlfriend if you let them attack without warning him.

They’re planning on killing you, my love.

It’s cute if they think they can.

They seem hell-bent on figuring it out.

I’m not afraid of them if that’s what you’re worried about. They can’t hurt me even with their best player.

I’m worried someone is going to get very hurt. What should I tell them?

Tell them where I am. Let them come. If it’s a war they want, I’m only happy to provide.

Are you sure?

I’m always sure, love.

You put your phone away and look at the small group, getting up to join the elite circle.

“I do know where Klaus lives.”

“That would have been nice to know a little earlier, don’t you think?” Damon sneers.

“Damon, don’t,” Stefan butts in. “Where is he?”

“New Orleans. That place is crawling with witches and vampires, but he and his family are stationed there.”

“How do you know this?”

“Because he took me there once. The witches will know once you arrive, but most of them are scared of Klaus anyway that they’ll help you blend in. Everyone from that town knows the Mikaelsons are royalty, but their castle doesn’t have a lot of guards protecting it. If you want to get to him, that’s where you want to do it.”

“How do you know all of this? This seems awfully suspicious for someone who isn’t sired to him anymore.”

“He still thinks I am. He’ll call me every day and ask for something. He figures if he has a hybrid in another state that I can do his dirty work for him elsewhere. You want to get Klaus? That’s how you’re going to do it.”

“She does have a point. Better to take this fight to his turf than ours. He’s more comfortable there,” Stefan points out.

Now that they know a location, it didn’t take long for them to come up with a plan of attack. Of course, you told everything to Klaus as soon as you were on the plane to get to New Orleans. He told you not to worry about a thing because he’ll plan a little something for their arrival.

No one messes with the King and his Queen.

When you land in New Orleans, the gang is eager to carry out their plan of attack. Just like you said, the town is crawling with witches who sense you the minute you landed. Every single witch knows you by heart, so they’re confused why you’re with them and not with Klaus. Your love must have only told them the basic information instead of what was really going on.

“Okay, where is this son of a bitch?” Damon asks.

“The French Quarter is where he likes to hang out. You’ll want to start there. Caroline and Elena will blend in more since they’ve never been here, but you two might stick out like a sore thumb. Just be prepared. If anything, I know these guys so let me do the talking.” You pause right in front of the group and turn to Bonnie. “And Bonnie? These guys know you’re a Bennett witch. Try not to do magic unless absolutely necessary. Klaus has a thing with witches.”

You lead the group into the French Quarter while keeping your head down to avoid conflict. The group follows your lead until you reach the middle of the place you call home.

“Stay here,” you say and leave the group on your own.

You approach the small bar within the Quarter, and lean over the counter a tad, looking at the bartender.

“Is Klaus here?”

“I’m right here,” you hear your lover’s voice. You and the Mystic Falls gang turn to see him standing in one of the many doorways that enter the French Quarter. “I hear you’re looking for me?”

“Where in the world did you hear that?” Damon asks, giving you a side glare. You step away from the group and speed over to Klaus, standing just a tad behind him. He smirks and doesn’t break eye contact with the older brother. “Traitor.”

“It isn’t a betrayal if I was never on your side to begin with,” you state.

“What are you doing? You’re not sired to him anymore,” Stefan tries to appeal to you.

“My sire bond wore off in the tenth century. I’m a lot older than you think I am. I really did want to be your friend, but you’re all so driven by rage and revenge that you can’t leave us alone until we’re fixed to the standards set by you. Next time you plan to kill someone, you should think twice about who you let into your home.”

“We should get going,” Elena whispers.

“Always the level-headed one, Elena. Too bad you can’t,” Klaus grins.

Stefan and Damon try to leave using their vampire speed, but they are blocked by the spell put there from the witches in this town. It’s like a big spell to trap the four vampires and the one witch inside. Caroline steps into the sun and immediately screams in pain, seeking the shade to calm her burning skin.

“My daylight ring isn’t working.”

“Yes, you’re all trapped here. For how long is still yet to be determined. Welcome to the French Quarter ladies and gentlemen,” Klaus chuckles.

“I can’t use my magic,” Bonnie panics.

“The next time you even think about going after Klaus, I won’t be so nice,” you say.

Klaus wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close, whispering something into your ear.

“Pardon us, we have other business to tend to.”

Klaus leads you away from the group, and only when you two are alone, does he turn you so that you’re facing him.

“You can relax, Klaus, no one is going to hurt you. Not as long as I am alive.”

“I can take care of myself, love,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, but isn’t it better when I do it?”

“Tenfold.”

“Always and forever, my love,” you whisper.

You lean in and press your lips to his, showing him just how much you love him.

wanna be tagged? add yourself to this document! if your tag doesn’t work, find out why! (not sure how much i will write for this fandom, but add yourself if you want!)

@essie1876 @choosemyname @cuddlyklaus @sotmperrie @akshi8278 @chynarosep101 @gh0stgurl @littlemissslytherinprincess @honeybums-blog @kendall-michele @tdntu0 @miraclesoflove @nasatonie @thelazywitchphotographer

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson fic #klaus mikaelson fanfic #klaus mikaelson fiction #klaus mikaelson fan fic #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson angst #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the vampire diaries fic #the vampire diaries fanfic #tvd #tvd fic #tvd fanfiction #tvd fanfic

386 notes · View notes

taechaos · 3 years

Text

Silent Treatment

from Textbook Love drabble series

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you.

warnings: slight angst, drugs, arguing, dubcon, cunnilingus, mild degredation

word count: 4.2k

tags: @mwitsmejk @1-in-abillion @kooookie

a/n: the request (contains some spoilers). i'm gonna take a very short break from this couple to write other requests!! hope u enjoy 💗

The shift in the Spring weather is unpredictable. One moment it’s chilly, and the other sunny. Humans can only adapt so much, and it causes an outbreak of common colds. Most people recover easily, handy medicine soothing their sore throats, syrups suppressing coughs, and nose sprays ridding the blockage. You, on the other hand, are not that lucky. With a weak immune system, you’re very careful to not get sick, but there must have been a slip-up because you’ve somehow lost your voice after catching a cold.

You sniffle and cough, but you can’t speak. It’s advised to not exert your vocal cords in cases like these, and that is just so unfortunate for you. The last thing you’d ever want to do is spread your sickness to Jungkook, and that meant not getting too close to him; it meant no kissing.

A very large white placard is spread out in front of you on the wooden table, and you’re plastering printed images of a specific global issue on it. You’re sitting on a bench with two of your friends as they chatter mindlessly while you work. Jungkook has a project about climate change due in a few days, and it’s supposed to be very important for his final grade. You’ve already written him a script for his presentation along with a stick prop to point at specific pictures. It’s fun, glittery and he’s going to love it.

“Hey,” Minnie, your friend, calls for you, “we’re going to get some coffee from Starbucks. Want us to get you green tea?”

Soyeon laughs when your eyes light up; it’s your favorite beverage, and it’s supposed to help with your sore throat. They leave with a smile after you give them a hyper nod and you’re alone as you adjust your woolen scarf around your neck. You need to heal as fast as you can so you’re no longer missing your beloved’s affection.

Jungkook has been feeling more inclined to approach you without reason lately, but that doesn’t mean it’s a common occurrence. Getting teased by his friend, specifically Taehyung, about having a sissy crush on a girl like yourself angered him to no end. A hit always got him to shut up, but not for long. He’s walking your way today because there’s no one around to judge him for talking to you.

You’re tearing a double-sided tape when he sits on your table, carefully avoiding your materials. Your breath hitches as his eyes gloss over your work in progress. “Working hard, I see,” he comments with disinterest. He doesn’t say anything about your efforts, but he’s impressed. The corner of his lip tugs upwards before he leans in for a kiss. You have enough self-control and concern for his well-being over your desires to lean back before your lips make contact. His face is close to yours as he pauses and slightly frowns before trying again. He receives the same results and finally pulls back.

“You did well,” he frowns at you and speaks as if you’re a child, “I’m praising you.” Your eyes are darting back and forth awkwardly and you don’t know what to do other than sit in silence. You put your hands on his knees as a resort and his frown deepens as he watches you. “I can take a hint, you know. You don’t have to fucking ignore me.” He roughly shoves your hands and stands up before storming off with a scoff. You’re torn between following him and being responsible over your belongings. You can’t let his grades go to waste because of a small misunderstanding, so you decide to text him instead. There’s always a possibility someone might steal his project. Or maybe after he’s cooled off? You delay the message, but somewhere in your heart, you’re satisfied by his reaction because it’s clear that he wanted to kiss you.

Heavy footsteps clomp against the sidewalk before Jungkook slumps on the seat next to Taehyung. It’s an isolated area for smoking students at the back of the campus, and his friend group is no exception to this role. They’re taking drags of cigarettes individually as Jungkook glares at his boots. They’re chunky and a bold black, and his dark outfit paints him as the big bad wolf. It fits, because he’s ready to attack when he’s filled with so much resentment. Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you. It doesn’t make sense, but you also grimaced at him, but then why were you doing his homework? He’s feeling frustrated, and upset all the same.

“Someone’s troubled,” Seokjin points out with a mouthful of smoke. “Kookie?”

Said boy only grunts in response.

“Did the lousy girl finally see you for who you really are and leave you?” Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to mock him with a pout. “Tragic.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tae,” Jungkook spits and sends him a death glare, fire flaming in his fierce eyes. “Go actually talk to a girl or something, and leave me alone. I can’t take your shit right now.”

The low blow doesn’t affect Taehyung in the slightest as he holds up his hands in defence with comically wide eyes. “Relax, tiger.”

“Moving on from Tae’s inability to talk to girls in broad daylight, what’s up with you Kook?” Namjoon butts in, earning a fake cough from the receiving end of the insult.

He pauses for a moment before babbling, “I hate those bitches. My mother for one, couldn’t stand wearing clothes whenever she saw a dude. Moving on from guy to guy, unless they’re a fucking asshole. What do they want? Why are they never fucking satisfied?!”

A moment of silence passes among the huddled friends before Yoongi breaks it with a joke, “Who’s the lucky girl?” It doesn’t land as Jungkook deeply sighs in response. “Did she cheat on you?” he tries again.

“No,” he murmurs.

“Then…?”

“She… I don’t fucking know, she gave me the silent treatment. She leaned away from me too,” he shakes his head with a quiet groan, “it just doesn’t add up. I got mad and left.”

“No way that could’ve ended up badly,” Taehyung chuckles but purses his lips when he’s sent another dirty look. “How long was the interaction anyway?”

“Like 30 seconds.”

“Are you coming out tonight?” Yoongi asks and puts out the burning tip of his stick. “Could help you feel better.”

“And we’ve got molly,” Namjoon adds.

“Yeah, fine, whatever.”

Alcohol’s effect on a person differs in moods, and Jungkook is usually a horny drunk. Being a sad drunk is a first for him tonight, but he’s just so confused. It made his heart drop when you outwardly refused his advances and anxiety blossomed in his chest, which he has no idea how to deal with. It kicked in fight or flight instincts, and he just… hated the idea of you not loving him, even if it’s momentary. He can’t bear staying in a situation that makes him feel so insecure, and that feeling is supposed to be left in his childhood. You just about brought out the worst in him without doing anything.

You didn’t do anything.

It’s 10PM and he’s waiting on your usual good night text that he never responds to. It’s so pathetic, and he hates himself for being so used to your affection that it worries him when he’s deprived of it. He’s never doubted your love for him, but his insecurities are churning his gut. It’s an overflow of all of his pent-up emotions, and he can’t handle it.

“Here,” Taehyung pops in out of nowhere, clutching a pill in his hand. There’s a bottle of water in the other as he holds them out for Jungkook to take. “Stop moping and get laid.”

“I’d say the same to you, but you’d probably start crying during sex,” he mumbles and uncaps the bottle before throwing in the pill and washing it down with the water. “Thanks.”

“See that girl over there?” he ignores him and steps behind his miserable friend to point at the owner of the sultry gaze directed at Jungkook from the bar. “She wants to fuck you. Or maybe me, but I’m passing her onto you.”

“How kind of you,” he sarcastically replies.

“Uh-uh, so you’re gonna be in ecstasy in about 10 minutes. Don’t fuck this up.” He slaps his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen. It’s a lonesome party because not a lot of people are allowed in when drugs are involved. Causing a ruckus, receiving a noise complaint and then getting arrested is out of the question.

He isn’t interested in sex with a stranger - not today at least -, but he hopes for it to change as he waits to approach her. Maybe drugs will rile him up enough to have fun with someone else and rid his mind of you. It’s an annoying itch on his brain, so he rests his head against the couch to comfort himself with the soft fabric. He’s sleepy from the beer he drank earlier, and he doesn’t know how time goes by so fast when he closes his eyes.

A few minutes must have passed, because he’s starting to feel dizzy in his seat. A smile carves on his face as his mind grows slightly fogged, and he opens his eyes to find the girl quietly chatting with a friend. When she glances at him, he beckons her to come over. She mouths a “be right back” to her friend before strutting in his direction.

“Hey,” she smiles down at him before sitting on the couch. She’s aristocratic, chic and pretty. “Sorry if I weirded you out earlier.” Her voice is sweet like honey, and her words flow out of her tongue so naturally. A dream girl, really, and Jungkook is starting to get horny.

“I don’t mind,” he reassures with a subtle seductive tone, “what’s a girl like you doing with this crowd? You look too innocent.” He wraps a finger around a strand of her hair and twirls it. It feels strange.

“My friend sent me here, told me to watch over someone,” she lowly speaks. “I’m Soyeon.”

“Nice to meet you, Soyeon,” he breathes before crashing her lips with his. His hand reaches down to grip her thigh, tongue poking out to swipe the sticky gloss. It’s flavored, and it tastes of strawberry. When she kisses him back so slowly, innocently, it turns him on so much. His pants feel tight around his crotch as he runs another hand through her soft hair. Compared to him, she’s passionate whereas he’s sloppy. He’s starting to get dizzier, and it feels so fucking good, but he hates it.

There is not a single reason for him to not enjoy this, not when his mood is lifting so high. The hand on her thigh lands on her cleavage instead and she’s so submissive and shy, but something’s off. He groans into her mouth before biting her lip, ripping a whine out of her. Why does she sound so sexy and annoying?

He pulls away from her before sighing in irritation. “Fuck, I can’t do this.”

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks worriedly.

“No, just, fuck.” He starts laughing before rubbing his palms on his eyes, “I really want to fuck, but I just can’t.”

“We can just chat,” she softly suggests. “What’s your name?”

“Jungkook.”

He removes his hands from his face when she goes silent. Her eyes are wide and she’s gaping at him… guiltily? “Crap,” she hisses quietly, “I was supposed to make sure you were okay. My roommate is like, super in love with you and asked me to come here.”

He says your name in a question, wondering if it’s you. When she nods, he asks for your dorm instantly.

“She’s in room 124… Why?”

When he stands up, there’s a sway in his posture but he recovers quickly. There’s an involuntary grin on his face as he thanks her ignorantly. He’s out of the villa in a rush, and he has the overwhelming urge to just run. The campus is a bit far away from the house, but he doesn’t care as his footfalls echo in the dark streets. He has so much energy to waste, and with his current stamina, he’s confident he’ll find you before dawn. It’s stupid but it’s fun, and he doesn’t care for catching his breath as the corner stores pass by him in a blur.

Throughout the two hours of his reckless jog, where he mixed up directions multiple times, his mind is starting to clear up little by little. He’s happy because of what Soyeon told him, and he feels relieved upon seeing the familiar college building. He’s not allowed in dorms at this time, but he’s done this too many times to get caught. Except he was drunk in those instances, and being on MDMA was different. Sneaking past security was tough because he couldn’t bring himself to tiptoe without making so much noise. When they glanced at him, he thought it to be the only choice to just run past them. He’s in the elevator by the time they catch on, and the numbers look wonky in his eyes but he presses the button for the right floor.

He’s shifting his weight repeatedly in an attempt to contain his excitement; he wants to see you so bad. The moment he hears the ding of the elevator, he’s running past the halls and stops upon seeing 124. He has to squint, but he knows this is your dorm.

You wake up with a silent gasp when there’s a pound on the door. You clutch your sheets in fear until someone starts to sing your name. “Jungkook?” you mouth to yourself. You stand up and look through the peephole and there’s a man on the other side who’s bouncing on his feet impatiently.

“Open up,” he sings loudly. You’re worried when you swing the door open and yank him inside so he doesn’t wake up any other students. You try to talk but only a wheeze comes out, so you switch on the light to see him instead. The brightness hurts your eyes as you close them for a few seconds. “Well, well, well, look who we have here…”

He starts to circle around you slowly and stumbles behind you. “Sending people to spy on me after rejecting me like that.” His words are slightly slurred and you turn around to face him with a pout. You point at your throat to give him a hint, but his eyes don’t waver from your pleading ones. “What are your intentions, huh?” he weakly pushes you, “Sending me mixed signals. Who- who do you think you are?”

You hold his hands and place them on your neck, trying to communicate with him by mouthing, “I’m sick,” but he only chuckles. He seems sickeningly joyous, but he’s not over his anger. “Still not going to talk to me? What did I even do?”

You deeply inhale from your nose because he’s not paying attention to you. You’re frustrated with yourself until he yells, “WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME?” The surge of serotonin, his state of euphoria is crashing down on him the more you ignore him. He had believed the drug would only make him happy, but it intensified his sadness and anxiety just as much when he saw you. It helped him forget you in a social circle, but you confused him so much after he was reassured for so long - coupled with your silence, he’s raging.

“Why are you ignoring me?! What did I do that was so bad that you can’t bear talking to me anymore? You told me you loved me, please,” he chokes and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I-I’ll make it up to you, I’m so sad right now. Just say something…”

You’re watching him in shock and a hint of fear from his fluctuating mood. You want to cry at how pitiful he looks, but instead you aim to grab a piece of paper from your bedside table. He misreads your actions and pushes you against the wall. “Stop this. Stop!” He has your arms pinned and he’s trying so hard to intimidate you so you give in. A dry sob leaves you because he's going mad, but then he has a sudden epiphany. “Maybe you’ll love me again if I fuck you hard enough and engrave it in your brain that you’re mine. Yes, yes!”

He starts unbuckling his belt and you immediately try to stop him; he’ll get sick! He shoves you again and pulls down his jeans before mashing his mouth against yours. All of your efforts have gone to waste when his tongue forces its way down your throat. There’s no point to denying him now, so you hesitantly kiss him back. You’re so guilty, and he’s so careless as he roughly pushes his hand down your white cotton shorts. You’re wearing a navy blue sweater to match so you don’t get cold in the night, but the shorts are meant to prevent a fever. What’s the point now, then? He hasn’t even read your texts that you only remembered to send before sleeping. He missed a whole paragraph of your explanation and confronted you so angrily.

“I’m going to fuck you all night,” he growls against your lips, “then you’ll remember how much you love me.” Your moans are quiet and hitched as he presses down on your clit through your panties. His other hand is on his cock as he strokes it eagerly, ready to get inside you. “I missed you so fucking much in one day,” he whispers in a croak. Hearing it makes you feel even warmer inside as you nudge his hand to urge him to enter you. “You missed me too, huh?” he takes notice of your neediness. “Shouldn’t have fucking brought it upon yourself then.”

He removes his hand from your shorts and taps your thighs before demanding, “Jump.” You bite your lip in consideration until he taps them harder and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist. Your shorts are relatively short, resembling loose boxers, so when your back is pressed against the wall he only pushes them and your underwear to the side before thrusting into you. A scream gets caught in your throat, and you forget all about your aches as he roughly fucks into you without caring for protection or lube. It stings only slightly, but the pleasure in feeling so full of him outweighs the pain.

Jungkook is moaning and groaning as he bruises your thighs in his hold. Your panting is all he can catch, and though the feeling of you is an amplified sensation because of the drug coursing in his system, he wants to hear you chant his name as well. “Still quiet?” he tuts and carries you to your narrow bed and you cling onto his shoulder while trying to catch your breath after the sudden attack. “Your cunt is throbbing though,” he says as he pulls out of you and drops you on the bed. He manhandles you by flipping you on your stomach and holds up your ass. He finally takes off your bottom clothing, but he’s slightly dizzy as he yanks them off your ankles. He spreads your thighs apart and you’re on your knees with your head against the mattress. “I wonder why that is,” he says before slapping your pussy, making you whimper quietly. “So wet, yet you don’t even make a sound. Some whore you are.” You purse your lips and muster a whine, but it’s interrupted when he pistons his cock inside you without warning. Your sounds are hoarse as he pounds into you from the back, hands kneading your ass to the shape of his hands. He gives it a spank as he moans loudly; the new position makes it feel so much more intense, and Jungkook loves it. His ears finally get to hear your pathetic mewls as he thrusts so deeply inside you that your vision blurs with tears and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You feel like a doll that can’t speak or move, and he’s evidently enjoying it going by his rushed pace. You’re challenging him with your silence, and he loves proving himself.

All of a sudden however, he stops moving. You look behind you with a pout and he quirks a brow at you. You grit your teeth because you know he's waiting for you to tell him to continue, or rather daring you to do something. A sudden surge of confidence overcomes you and you gently slam your hips against his, fucking yourself on his cock with your eyes screwed shut.

“Yes, baby,” he strains, “show me that you're still my good girl.” At his encouragement, you meet his thrusts faster and you're seeing stars at how amazing it feels. You want to be his good girl so bad, and you arch your back to savour the pleasure. “Your pussy is mine, all mine,” he affirms to himself and stills your hips to turn you around without removing his length. His fingers are digging into your flesh and your tits bounce under the fabric as he rams into you restlessly. Your mouth is open in a silent scream and he can barely make out your pupils, the whites of your eyes stirring his climax at how attractive you look under the poor lighting. “I love you so fucking much,” he cries, “say it back, baby.”

You try to, but you can only dryly cough. “You fucking bitch,” he hisses at your defiance and pulls out of you to pump his length. He’s close to his release, and he pushes up your sweater to see your hard nipples that make him salivate. He crawls to slide his cock between the valley of your breasts and it hurts when he harshly pushes them together. “Stick out your tongue,” he commands in a whisper, and you do so while panting like a dog. Every time he thrusts upwards, the tip of his head grazes your tongue and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s massaging your tits as he stutters between whines, and eventually his load spurts out to land on your chest and cheek with a particularly loud groan. His cum surges down his shaft as he rides out his high with the last slow thrusts.

“Oh fuck,” he sighs airily and collapses next to you in the tiny space available. You clumsily turn on your side to give him more room and he pecks your swollen lips. He zips his pants back up and you’re still naked from the waist down. You’re staring at each other adoringly in the romantic, fragile atmosphere; another first.

“I love you,” you croak finally. It’s quieter than a whisper, and it makes you cringe at how hideous you sound; it’s painful as well.

His face lights up once he registers your words before noticing the tone. “What happened to your voice?”

“Sick.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything more as you snuggle into his side and he instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Shit,” he murmurs, “why didn’t you tell me that sooner, idiot?”

You slap a hand on his front pocket where his phone is, and he hastily takes it out to see a bunch of notifications from you. “You sent it at night, you’re still the idiot.” You giggle and roll your eyes. “A promise is a promise, though,” he purrs before cupping your bare heat. “I did say I would fuck you all night.” You widen your eyes when his head lowers down to face your sopping wet cunt, and he slowly licks up a stripe over your soaked folds, making you shudder and grip his hair. He’s leaving kitty licks all over your sensitivity, the tip of his tongue lightly brushing against your clit every now and then. Your hips lift involuntarily, and he finally takes your clit in his mouth and sucks on it loudly. He slurps your arousal before spitting it back on your hood, and you can only squeak in response. Your hazed mind only tells you that you want more, and he doesn’t fail to provide.

Two fingers enter your clenching hole, and he’s scissoring your walls as he messily eats you out. The pleasure from earlier returns all too soon and you know you won’t be able to last long. His lids are hooded when you glance down at him and the way he’s looking at you makes it even harder to resist your orgasm. The knot in your stomach picks back up right before unraveling and your moan is raspy as you start twitching under his relentless mouth. He grows gentle and leaves kisses all over your vulva until your body falls limp on the sheets.

After another round of penetrative sex, the two of you fall asleep from exhaustion in your bed. It’s a first for the both of you, and Jungkook decides in his drunken mind that tonight won’t be the last. It feels so intimate when he cuddles you, and you won’t ever forget his love confession.

The next morning is not so pleasant however, as Jungkook wakes up with a loud sneeze and in his now nasal voice says, “God fucking damn it.”

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jjk smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #bts fic #jungkook fic

750 notes · View notes

slothgiirl · 3 years

Text

the spy part 1(keith x reader)

8k. explicit content. while on medical leave reader meets the red paladin of voltron during the war against Zarkon.

The corridors are well lit. It’s like being in a brand new hospital, this ship in the rebel fleet.

People hustle around, landing, taking off in smaller ships to distant planets. Your hand goes to your arm. The medic had given you a movement’s leave, so you were resting for now on this ever moving ship.

Outside the widows, you spy an assortment of ships, each one’s origins clear from the design. So many planets, so many peoples banding together against Zarkon. You’d win the war.

It was what you kept telling yourself.

You would.

It was just a matter of time.

You round the corner, stretching your arm across your chest, a simple form of physical therapy in deep space. You hadn’t seen earth since being deployed. The galaxy garrison seemed like a dream from another life. You had been on track for the chemistry department, long term missions to mars to analyze soil and dust, not this, not a war. You take a breath.

And spot the Red Paladin.

He’s one of the most recognizable people in the universe, and his grungy hair and distinctive outfit does him no favors. You’d never seen him before, not in the flesh. Sure. Voltron had saved your ass a handful of times. You wouldn’t have survived the assault on Arrakis if Voltron hadn’t rammed the shield. Trapped. Piloting a fighter craft that was closer to a mosquito irritating the Galra then pushing them back.

But you hardly knew him.

He’s gripping the railing tightly, trying to camouflage into the wall as an alien with crystalline blue skin and hair like saturated indigo leans into him.

The line of his shoulders is taut, brittle.

You don’t even think.

“There you are,” you force yourself to be synthetically cheerful as you smile easily at the paladin, who you realize quickly you don’t know his name but you know what he is and that must be an awful feeling, being so recognizable without being known. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” you lied, elbowing the blue alien out of the way. You could never tell much from a single glance at themis species despite their largely humanoid appearance.

You put your hand on his arm loosely, “come on, we’re late enough and you know how annoyed the others get.” Good, that seemed convincing enough.

The red paladin’s eyes go wide, his mouth a grimace and it’s then that you notice the feverish flush to his skin.

But he doesn’t pull away or argue.

You ignore the alien and decide small talk was the way to go until you put some distance, “I’m kind of hurt you didn’t come visit me while I was healing,” you stick close to the truth, “but since it only took an hour? a varga? for me to heal I won’t hold it against you.” He’s too warm.

Maybe the space flu?

Was that even a thing?

You weren't sure.

Mostly, you snuck into work camps and blew up strategic targets using whatever you could get your hands on to make a bomb. The chemistry came in handy.

He sways as he walks, looking like your roommate at the garrison after a few too many hits after an exam. “Do I know you?”

You flush, embarrassed. “Sorry, I just,” you look back, but the alien’s been left a couple turns back, “you looked uncomfortable.” You take a step back, letting go of him. “Are you okay?”

His expression furrows, mouth a pinched line as he goes from suspicious to annoyed, takes a u-turn back to suspicious as he studies you, before relaxing. “Yeah. yeah. . .who are you?”

You introduce yourself, taking on the meaningless garrison designation at the end, “technically second year member, though I’ve been with the runners mostly.” No designation more than a number.

“You do look human,” he replies simply, moving to get a look at your ears, “not many of those out here.”

“And yet somehow the sentries always look the other way,” you muse, “not very bright. I’m almost convinced the Empire’s in it’s failing bureaucracy days.”

He winces, before deadpanning, “eh, I don’t know how useful a lion is against the DMV.”

You laugh.

He takes slow deliberate breaths, steadying himself, “I’m Keith.”

“Seriously though, do you need to see a medic?” He looked in serious need of a tylenol. The ships were usually crisp, you wore a jacket most of the time to stave off the permanent chill.

Keith shakes his head, chewing his lip before meeting your gaze with an intense concentration in his violet eyes, as if he was gauging how much titrant he could add before hitting the endpoint and if half a drop was worth the risk. “I’m just. . .going through something.”

“Anyone I can call for you?” You weren't about to abandon him here. Sure, he was a paladin and could probably look after himself. But you couldn’t in good conscience walk away.

He swallows, looking down for a moment and you are startled to find how much you miss his attention boring into you with the loveliest eyes you’d ever seen.

“No,” Keith replies mulishly as he jerks away from you. “I’m fine.”

Which was a total lie. It was obvious he wasn’t feeling well but you weren’t about to get on his case. You were sure he had people for that. He wasn’t some random soldier in arms with you that you watched out for and hoped not to have to watch die.

You swallow the bitter thought away, crossing your arms over your chest.

Leaning back against the hall, you watch evenly as Keith stumbles, catching himself on the wall. His mouth is a drawn line of determination.

You didn’t understand why.

There was aid here. It wasn’t the same as crawling through cramped mining tunnels and swallowing back pain forcing yourself to work through it until the mission was accomplished.

“Do you need help,” you ask.

“No.” He leans a hand against the wall.

You raise a brow, wondering if he would pass out for whatever weird space flu he had clearly caught and you could only hope it was nothing like the infections that ran rampant in the work camps, or if he would give in and accept your offer of help. The former seemed more likely.

You don’t ditch him though, focusing your attention on the porthole to the stars.

There was no rush: no reason to help him by force. People didn’t learn if you babied them you’d caught on quick back on earth during your tutoring hours. You had to let them fall and smash their face in sometimes.

So you stay, watching the stars.

Keith makes no move to take another step.

It still got you, looking out into the vastness of space and realizing this really was your life now, you were out here, further than you’d ever dreamed. Everywhere you looked, novel stars, distant planets teaming with life. You could have done without the war, but it was what it was.

“And here I thought Mars would be the furthest I’d go,” you comment more to yourself than Keith.

The red paladin makes a small sound of acknowledgement.

“Earth’s, or was, at the beginning of our space age. People had barely begun to live on the research bases on Mars,” you watch him out of the corner of your eye in case he really does pass out, “so no Star Trek for me but now I’m here.”

“There’s a war going on.”

You turn over to look at him, sort of annoyed because yeah you got that, spent enough time in the trenches without a fancy lion spaceship, but the bubbling annoyance dissipates when you see the upturned corners of his mouth. Keith was teasing you.

Shifting your weight, you add, “yeah well, instead of being a footnote in a Mars base’s history I’ll be a footnote in this war instead.” Gallows humor. You needed a lot of that when regularly infiltrating camps and posing as a slave, as a prisoner, the bottom of the barrel that wouldn’t get a second glance from the Galra soldiers.

He frowns. “I don't think anyone’s just a footnote.”

“I was joking.”

“Oh.” Keith looks away.

You feel bad. “It’s probably better not to be so cynical,” you muse, “but it’s like the vice president thing, no one remembers them unless the president gets assassinated.” God you couldn’t help how dark your humor could veer even when trying to be positive.

He looks over at you, head tilted, considering. Despite being standoffish, Keith was easy to read unlike the slick space pirates you’d encountered.

You meet his gaze head on.

“I might need some help,” he allows.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth. “If you’re sure,” you utter, regarding him carefully and unable to keep the teasing from your voice. You shouldn’t. You barely knew him and what little you’d learned made it clear he wouldn’t take well to your teasing.

War made quick brothers out of everyone.

But Keith held himself afar.

A questioning glance danced in his uniquely violet eyes as he tried to get a read on you. “I am.”

You nod, stepping besides him and wrapping an arm around his waist. You were always caught by surprise by how heavy a grown adult could be. And depending on the alien. . .

He takes a step, still holding himself afar from you, barely resting any weight on you. His muscles were stiff under your touch, back rigid that matched the uncomfortable look on his chiselled features.

You follow his lead.

At Keith’s sedate pace, it would take quite a while before you dropped him off where you needed to go. Being personable was part of being a leader or it’d lead to mutiny. Not that you had ever gotten that far. The Galaxy Garrison had slapped the graduation badge on your uniform and sent you into space.

You scrabble for familiar territory, earth and the garrison. The Black Paladin was a Garrison member returned from the grave. Rumor had it all the paladins were garrison deserters.

Veronica McCain did share a familiar resemblance with the blue paladin. It was probably true.

“I attended the Garrison campus at Guiana,” you offer. “I was hoping for Texas or Florida to be closer to home, but I didn’t test into pilot or engineer.”

Keith makes a sound in the back of his throat.

Even through the fabric of his uniform, he felt warm. How anybody could be warm in such cold halls was anybody’s guess. A permanent chill had sunk its way into your bones. You missed the humid heat of Guiana.

“It was nice though. The jungle was pretty close and it was always hot,” you tell him. “I thought I wouldn’t miss the humidity, step outside and it was like having just showered but I do. These ships have to be at 15 C.”

“Texas is hot too.” Keith utters quietly.

“Isn’t the desert cold at night though,” you ask, already knowing the answer. It had been basic earth science.

“Yeah. It is.” There’s longing in his voice. You wish he’d say more just to hear him speak.

Warmth spreads, an embarrassing tell, through your cheeks.

“I did miss the snow while there,” you continue, “it didn’t snow much up in Vancouver but it was never as hot as Guiana, and the rain was warm!” You had never gotten over that. The rain would spot and start throughout the day but the sun would keep on shining.

“What were you,” Keith asks bluntly.

“Chemisist, more the physical and inorganic type,” you admit, “it was fun doing wet labs.” That had gotten you hooked back in regular school. “Then got shunted to command track after a few too many volunteering opportunities. Guess the lesson there’s to not try too hard.”

That gets a laugh out of him.

“You,” you ask him as he shifts more of his weight onto you, finally accepting the help he asked for. Stubborn guy.

“Pilot.”

You look over at him, his wild hair brushing against your cheek and the simple action shouldn’t excite you but it does. He was hot with sharp features offset by a certain enthralling earnestness but he could run a comb through his hair.

Keith didn’t seem the pilot type: arrogant, loud, generally strong personalities.

“You any good,” you ask though you’ve heard about Voltron so he has to be pretty fucking good to be part of them. How did Voltron choose its pilots?

He smirks easily, close to a smile at the mere mention of piloting and you knew that moment he loved it: didn’t matter if he was good at it or not. You swallow hard as anticipation buzzes under your skin for no good reason.

Get your head out of the gutter, you tell yourself.

“I’m a pretty good pilot,” Keith answers, somehow managing to sound like he’s stating a fact instead of bragging.

“Just pretty good?” You smile at him, letting him know you were only joking around as you both round another corner, finally making it to the transient quarters. People were always dropping in and out of mobile spaceports like these.

He snorts. “Better than most.” Keith shrugs, smiling over at you.

“Don’t be modest on my account,” you utter, looking away, not sure what to do about the growing heat in your body that had nothing to do with temperature controls.

“It’s true,” he says simply.

Honesty was a hard thing to come by. You were finding more and more reasons to like the red paladin as you reach his current room. No special treatment here.

Or maybe it was politics and optics, making sure everyone knew Voltron was of the people and not aiming to replace Zarkon as rulers of the universe.

Keith places a hand against the door, putting space between you both.

You swallow, glancing away, feeling some of the tension ease.

“You sure you don’t want me to send a medic,” you ask him, looking over at his striking eyes. The heat under your skin is a live wire: you curl your toes in your shoes. People usually didn’t affect you this much. Even the smell of him was so distinct, drawing you in.

It was an unprecedented reaction.

He must feel it too.

Keith studies you with an enraptured fascination shining in his wide eyes, mouth parted on the verge of answering. Both your bodies sway towards each other like branches in the wind: sunflowers orienting towards the sun.

You shift your weight from one foot to another.

It relieves enough tension for you to shift away.

“No. No medic,” Keith finally answers.

“Right then.” But you don’t make a move to leave.

He says nothing.

The silence is broken by the hum of the ship's engines under your feet. People move about and you can hear their footsteps echoing on the metal floors.

Supposedly quintessence powered ships smelled like ozone.

This one was powered by crystals and some Olkari engine. You wouldn't know the specifics, they were beyond you. And not your job.

You look back at him, ready to leave. The space between you could so easily tilt to awkward and you weren’t sure what you were doing or why you found yourself so entranced by Keith. You barely knew him. You didn’t want to be one of the soldiers with a photograph in your pocket and a farflung hope that you’d-

He’s looking at you, cautious, movements slow and deliberate as if he’s caught between thinking and simply doing.

Then Keith’s demeanour becomes determined: deciding to take the leap without looking down. He cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you.

For a second you’re baffled, trying to figure out how you got to point B when this wasn’t a bar and you had no agenda, before you shrug and kiss him back. Keith was undeniably attractive. He was even a bit taller than you which was compelling, you were on the tall side for a girl.

It’s not some unsolvable thought experiment, you kiss him back.

And a current of static electricity runs through your core. Heat pools after only just a kiss that steals your breath away.

You can’t get enough, his hands warm against your skin, igniting a delicious sensation in your very core. You want more. You kiss him harder, your mouth against his, sucking on his bottom lip.

Your hands clutch at the fabric of his shift.

Keith kisses you back, matching your frenzied energy, his mouth parting against yours and pulling you flush against his chest.

It does nothing to dissolve the tension, the charged energy between you spikes. Like a fire fed by wood it grew.

It was a heady feeling, his hands caressing your cheeks as Keith kissed you with a vigor you thought only existed in soapy dramas. Heat pools in your belly like a sinking stone: you liked his intensity.

Keith pulls away, catching his breath, resting his forehead against yours.

Some of the muddled list clears from your head, now completely in the gutter as you press Keith against the door to his room.

Oh. . .were you really doing this?

Keith looks a fuckable mess, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. Still, he hesitates.

You can feel the question linger in the air, can feel it in the featherlight touch of his hands ghosting over your cheeks as he makes to pull away, to let you go if you want to turn back now. But you don’t.

You want to run your hands through his hair. You’re practically burning up wondering how Keith would look splayed on the bed between your thighs. . .how he would feel.

Would he be just as intense in bed as he fucked you?

“You feel it too,” he asks quietly.

You furrow your brows, thrown. There were a lot of intense emotions coursing through you all narrowed down to feeling horny as a teenager back on earth. Masturbation only went so far.

You swallow, trying to rack your brain cells together and say something. Yeah. It was a bit. . .much. Space much. But that didn’t make any sense. You hadn’t taken any drinks from strangers.

The connection was too strong to discount the possibility of space weirdness affecting both of you.

“Yeah,” you reply, sounding more whiny than you’d like to. The apex of your thighs throbbed with want. Anticipation had built up and he was right there; Keith

s breath fanned over you, his forehead against yours like a touchpoint.

Your fingers were still curled into the fabric of his shirt.

In the hall.

Where anyone could see.

“So what now,” you ask, “medic?”

Keith snorts, “No. I just-do you want to come inside?”

You smirk. Everyone knew what that meant. There were so many variations with the same outcome.

“Yeah. Okay.” You put a pin in any alien space nonsense and slip inside Keith’s assigned quarters for however long Voltron was here for.

The lights are off. You don’t bother to study the room when Keith crushes his mouth against yours. You stumble around in the dark, feeling emboldened now that he’d voiced an invitation, he wanted this as much as you did, and run your hands up his chest. He was lean and lithe. Keith leans into your touch, a shiver running down his spine when you run your fingers through his hair and run your tongue over his bottom lip.

Keith moans, the sound scratchy from the back of his throat excites you.

It was thrilling to know you could elicit such a response from someone. You liked feeling hot and sexy. And from a guy like Keith who you were vibing with. . .

He finds the jagged hem of your cut tank top, which had doubled as a bandage, and slides his hands under your shirt. His fingers are calloused, skin hot against yours and there was always something so carnal about skin on skin touch. Keith clutches at your sides and leads you backwards.

You trust that he knows the layout.

Your mind has boiled down to simple desires.

“Keith,” you mumble against his mouth as he guides your hips against his and you feel his cock beneath the fabric. It goes straight to your ego: straight to your pussy.

More heat. It’s unbearable how much your body throbs and you moan against him, against his lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling.

“Mhm,” he asks, just as overcome with lust as you were. Keith tilts his head up, and you kiss his jaw, kiss the side of his throat, nipping at the flesh and enjoying the breathy moans he makes as your knees hit the bed.

You want more.

You move your hands to his shoulders, “let's get this off,” you utter softly, pushing at his jacket.

“Okay,” he replies, crowding you against his bed until you have no choice but to sit down. Keith discards his jacket, and pulls his shirt over his head.

Your breath hitches in your throat. It’s dark. You can’t see him well. You still react like a charged electron.

“Now you,” Keith states simply, not exactly a command. It was nice, the lack of mind games and subterfuge.

You scoot up further on the bed, shrugging your bomber jacket off.

He’s watching.

Awkwardness creeps up on you. There was no sexy way to take off a sports bra.

You pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. Then you peel off your sports bra. The elastic worked too well.

Keith’s sitting up on his knees.

“You’re beautiful,” he states.

“Come here,” you utter, inviting him closer.

He complies readily, cupping your cheek and kissing your mouth eagerly, closer to a lover than a random encounter.

You grab his other hand, guiding him up to your chest, to your breast. Keith runs his thumb over your nipple, gooseflesh rises on your skin. He trails bruising kisses down your throat.

Your breath catches in your throat. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you, savoring the feel of his chest against yours.

“Fuck,” you groan as Keith bites down hard at the crook of your neck, harder than you’d expected.

He stills. “I’m-I,” making to pull away.

“No,” you reach for him, tilting his head up as you move to straddle his waist, “it’s okay. I just didn’t expect it.”

“I won’t do it again,” he stammers out.

“I didn't say I didn't like it.” You push him down against the bed, topping him. “Just warn a girl.”

Keith wraps his hands around your hips, tugging at the waistband of your trousers. “These are kind of in the way.”

Laughing, you reply, “could say the same to you.” Your hands pop the button of his jeans.

It’s a fumble to pull your trousers down. Neither of you care, eager to get on with it. He shoves his jeans down his legs along with his boxers.

You straddle Keith, completely naked and lean down to capture his lips against yours. His cock twitches against your thigh and your toes curl up. His tongue runs over your top lip, you part your mouth, letting him in.

You cup his cheeks between your hands, your hips rolling against his.

He thrusts feverishly against you. His fingers dig into your bare hips, skin against skin.

“Come here,” Keith utters hoarsely, “I wanna fuck you.”

“Think I’d rather ride you,” you reply back breathlessly.

“You can do that after,” he whines, a rumble emanating from his chest but your head is too fucked up to make sense of it.

You sit up, hands on his chest. “That’s presumptuous of you.”

Keith grins, wrapping his hands around your wrists, and rolls you over so he’s on top. “Is it,” he asks rhetorically as his hand reaches between your thighs, ghosting over the wetness of your pussy, “when you’re this wet?”

You moan, canting your hips, cashing the feel of his hand, wanting relief. It was a mounting pressure in your belly, a forest fire under your skin and you needed Keith. “Okay. yeah,” you nod, closing your eyes when Keith bent his head and licked a stripe from your nipple to your collarbone. You whimper, lost in the sensation.

“Tell me what you want,” Keith asks.

“Fuck me. Please fuck me,” you utter, you hands clutchinf at his shoulders, bringing him flush agaisnt you.

Keith aquieses.

You bend your knees, spreading your legs as he positions his cock.

“Oh fuck,” Keith mutters as he pushes into you.

Fuck indeed. You moan his name without thought, closing your eyes and laying your head back against the bed. His cock fills you up, sliding into your pussy with ease given how turned on you were.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he stretches you out.

“God, yes,” you utter dazed.

Keith moves his hips. You roll your hips up to meet him. He nips at your collarbone as he thrusts into you with favour.

As promised he fucks you.

Keith captures your mouth in a kiss that catches the moans you make as he reaches between you and runs his thumb over your clit. His pace, the way he was kissing you madly. . .the heat that had been building since you’d met him comes crashing down.

You come.

Leaving you boneless.

“Keith,” you whimper.

“Sh,” he tells you, kissing the shell of your ear, “let me make you feel good.”

“You..sort of already did,” you utter completely fucked out.

“Turn over.” Keith says even as he’s already helping you move, his arms supporting your weight. He presses his lips on the back of your neck, as he grabs a pillow and sets it under you.

You bring up your knees, laying on your legs, “thought I was going to go next,” you tease, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair.

He stills, “if you. . .”

“No. No,” you shrug, “I did ask you to fuck me.”

Keith runs his hands over your shoulders, sliding down your sides. He squeezes your ass with his hands.

“Best two out of three,” you offer, half joking half serious because while you were still blissed out from having just orgasmed, you could already feel your pussy clench with anticipation. Seriously, the effect he had on you-

You can feel his smile against your skin, “If you think you can handle it.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you reply, arching your back into him, titling your head back, and pulling his hair so you could kiss him. It was sloppy, and the angle was awkward, but none of it mattered when Keith stroked your pussy with his fingers, dipping into your wet folds.

Already stimulated, you shudder with pleasure.

Your tongue strokes his in an open mouthed kiss. He tastes as good as he smells, Keith filling up your senses like an incense stick wafting through a room.

He wraps an arm around your chest, his hand caressing your breast, pulling you against his chest, both of you melding together. Keith thrusts his cock into you again.

You squeeze your eyes shut, hand fisting the sheets of his bed, moaning into his mouth.

It was a combination of his cock in you, his thumb rolling your nipple in his hand, that set you aflame.

You couldn’t get enough, your hips jerking back, up to meet his. Keith fucks you against the bed.

He palms your breast in his hand, pulling you up to him, keeping you close as he plants a kiss at the juncture of your ear and jaw, on the side of your neck whilst nipping the skin and you moan, his cock hitting just the right spot as he slams into you.

First he grows comfortable, pulling almost entirely out before thrusting hard as he finds a pace that leaves you both a mess.

“Right there, right there,” you utter.

“Tell me how good I make you feel.”

He punctuates his words with a roll of his hips, his fingers draw a circle around your clit without giving you the satisfaction you desperately seek, already building up to another climax.

You nod jerkily. “So fucking good Keith. Your cock feels so fucking good,” you manage to reply.

He speeds up, faster, deeper, at your words. The bedframe, bolted down into the floor, creaks.

“Just like that.” You moan wantonly. “Right there.”

He responds to your words, pulling out to the head of his cock, teasing your entrance just so before slamming back in.

You shut your eyes and whimper, over sensitive to your very marrow. It was too much. Keith was trailing kisses down your spine, his breath warm, his cock twitching inside your filling every inch of your pussy up.

With a shudder, you come, stars behind your eyelids and short circuiting. You never knew sex could be this amazing. Not in real life.

You got what people meant about the right partner.

The right sexual energy to match.

You collapse, a puppet with its strings cut. Keith’s hand across your chest is the only thing keeping you from melding into the mattress like a blob. His hips thrust against your ass mindlessly, chasing his own climax.

With another couple of thrusts, his hips snapping against you, Keith moans your name and comes undone behind you.

He comes inside you, hot and sticky.

His hand grasps the back of your neck, holding you in place as he comes inside you. It’s unexpectedly hot. You didn’t know you could like this in bed.

You didn’t know how much you liked an obstinate expression with wide eyes until you met Keith. He had the type of soulful eyes you could drown in.

He had drawn out something in you that you hadn’t even been aware of.

Your thoughts center on him as he finishes inside you.

“You take my dick so good,” he says with a surprising amount of softness for what amounts to a one night stand and a pang strikes your chest, wishing you had met him under better circumstances where there might be-

Keith gets off you, slumping next to you on the bed.

There’s a thrum of satisfaction running through you as you look at his face in profile. The insane idea that you might just stay and cuddle plants itself.

That was impossible.

It was time to cut and run.

Sure, he’d fucked you. But he was also still half a stranger. No matter how jumbled your thoughts were, you refused to give into the pull he had on you.

You wanted to lay there with him.

Keith blinks slowly, looking as blissed out as you feel, reaching out a hand towards you, but stopping himself halfway.

You feel a little disappointed, but say nothing. It was just a one off thing you remind yourself, no matter how you felt.

Now that you can think a little more clearly, though the sensation remains like a lump in your throat that starts there no matter how much you swallow, you glance around the dark room. Only the barest red lights on the floor illuminate enough to cast shadows.

Keith’s own eyes reflect the light like a cat. Just a glimmer of traffic sign yellow.

But you’re too tired to think, so you file it away in your head under the nebulous details you’ve learned about the red paladin.

You blink, grimancing as Keith’s come runs down your thigh onto the sheets. At least they weren’t yours.

He closes his eyes.

“I’d say sorry about the mess,” you break the easy silence lulling you into staying there, “but it's your fault,” you tease way too familiarly.

Keith sounds embarrassed when he utters, “sorry about that. I can get carried away.”

You smile softly, tracing over his shadowed form with your eyes but resisting the urge to reach out. That part was over. “It was good.”

“You did mention.”

So he could joke.

You giggle in the darkness that envelopes the room. You were good at being friendly and taking charge but you understood the hesitancy to open up to people you just met.

Keith’s chest makes a rumbling sound akin to a cheetah purring.

You try and hold onto the thought, sure it means something, but the sound draws you in and you lose the battle against yourself, curling up into his side.

He takes this as the permission it is, and tangles his limbs with yours.

A thrum of warmth surges where Keith’s skin touches you and you’re not sure if its his running warm or if it's all in your head or-

your eyes drift closed.

He’s purring.

You know Keith would be embarrassed if you pointed it out.

So you say nothing.

Everything seemed so intangible anyhow. The world had been turned down a notch. The post orgasm glow remained unrivalled.

Even a hit from a bong didn’t measure up.

Your first time had been a real embarrassment (you hadn’t managed to get the boy’s cock in you), this was just a weird quirk of his, and it was soothing.

You close your eyes.

Keith’s breathing is deep and steady, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but don’t feel pressured to check.

It was nice, not scurrying off, not being more than a little drunk. War was exhausting. Earth had only been in it for less than three years. No wonder some aliens were in such shit moods.

You exhale.

There’s no way to mark the passage of time.

The bed shifts under you. Keith runs the back of his hand gently over your shoulder.

Your eyes flutter open.

“So would this be round two or three,” you ask lightly.

Keith smiles lightly, “you did say…”

“I did,” you laugh easily, blushing, the flush creeping from your cheeks to the tips of your ears.

You swing a leg over his waist, straddling him, but not without feeling the start of a soreness in your legs. It doesn’t deter you.

Keith lays back, watching you through his lashes as you sit up. He looks lovely.

You lean down and kiss his mouth, reaching for his cock with your hands. He was already half hard when you wrap your hand around his shaft.

His breath hitches in his throat as you move your hand. It’s been a moment since you’d jerk anyone, but it’s not rocket science. You press kisses down his throat, moving your hand firmly up and down his length until he’s completely hard. You nip at his collarbone, marking him the way he’d left bruising kiss all over you.

His cock twitches in your hand, Keith’s hips thrusting up into you.

Anticipation builds in your belly, but you want to set the pace, stay in charge. So you still your movements.

Keith whines under you, his hands holding your waist.

“Be a good boy for me,” you tell him. “Can you do that?”

“Mm.”

“Use your words.”

“Yeah,” he manages hoarsely, “I can be good.”

You smile, lining him up against your entrance. You shift your hips, teasing his cock against your wet folds, closing your eyes as you moan at the feeling.

Keith thrusts up, trying to get more friction.

You still wanting to drag it out. Though your thighs ached and your pussy throbbed and you wondering if you should just-

You rub his cockhead against your pussy, “oooOH,” you moan. Your nails scratch his chest lightly, trying to steady yourself. Your heart raced, back arching down to him.

“Come here,” Keith groans, his fingers trailing up, asking for more, his hand on the small of your back.

You give in, sinking down onto his cock.

He moans your name, shutting his eyes.

It’s pornographic, the way Keith rises up to meet you, hips bucking against yours, the expanse of his pale throat.

You roll your hips slowly, fucking yourself on his cock. At this angle, the way he filled you-

“Fuck,” Keith moans, “you feel so good.”

“I could say the same,” you reply, sliding against his hips, picking up speed. You hold yourself up, hand on his chest.

You suck in a breath as his cock thrusts into you. Static filled your head as you chased your pleasure, grinding against him. You tilt your head back, moaning his name, everything but Keith becoming background noise.

He palms your breast.

Your breath hitches when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and finger.

“Ah,” you sigh.

Your stomach was taunt.

He doesn’t go further. You sort of wish he would. You trusted Keith not to hurt you. . .too badly.

The idea excites you, as he wraps his hand around your throat.

You match him, curling your fingers in his hair and pulling hard, “look at me,” you try and order but your voice is a whine. You’re too hot and heavy to think.

His cock twitches inside you, filling you up and fuck it felt good to be streched out.

Keith’s thumb strokes the side of your throat, his grip firm. “Do you like this,” he asks, his gaze heavy on you. He was entirely concentrated on you. It was like being worshipped.

It sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.

“I wouldn’t mind if you got rougher,” you admit, finding it easy to trust him.

He looks away.

You falter. Had you read things wrong?

Keith bucks his hips up against you and you let the thought go, sinking onto his cock and groaning, “Keith…”

It was easy to let go when it felt this good. His hand around your throat, fingers digging into your hips, you were sure there’d be bruises tomorrow. Not that anyone would be able to tell from over your uniform.

A shudder runs down your spine, you squirm on his cock mindlessly, thinking about bruises in the shape of his hands, about the marks on your neck you could already feel blooming on your skin. Heat surges in your chest, something primal as your thoughts linger there.

You nails run down his chest, leaving shallow scratches as you try and get a better hold, desperately grinding against Keith, down on the bed, his cock ramming into you. “Fuck,” you think, “fuck. . .Keith. . .”

You can’t stand it.

The pressure in your stomach, the heat scorching your pussy, the sound of Keith’s whines and moans, your name tumbling out of his mouth like a hymn that raised your heart beat, blood pounding in your ears.

Keith squeezes your neck, your throat bobs under his fingers and fuck-

You come.

Your legs tremble, unable to support you any longer as you collapse, a quivering mess on Keith. His hands move down to grip your thighs, pulling you down flush against him, down to the hilt of his cock as he comes, moaning erotically.

The thread of heat doesn’t dissipate entirely as you rest on his chest, boneless and sticky with sweat, but it relaxes and you breath the scent of him in instead of pulling away entirely.

Keith strokes a hand down your spine, an afterthought, “that was. . .”

“Yeah.” You’re exhausted.

You close your eyes, listening to the inhuman rumble of Keith’s chest as it rises and falls with every breath you take.

You end up slipping out. The halls are in the light cycle, but no one bothers you as you walk.

Getting up the next morning is hell.

Your legs are sore, and that’s not even mentioning how much your pussy hurts when you take a step. You take a dose of painkillers still remaining from your injury and check your messages.

Nothing from earth.

That was expected.

The meager universal communications were taken up by the war effort. You still sent your family messages, even if it was just one way. It was a way to keep in touch. It felt like watching starlight and knowing it was millions of years old, a form of time travel.

You shower.

Keith’s come was a mess on the inside of your thighs and the thought is not as gross as it should be, your skin warming up, zapped by static. You run your fingers over your clit and fuck yourself in the shower thinking of the red paladin and his come.

You get out, brushing your hair out, not looking in the mirror at the purple hickies spread out like a constellation on your chest, and realize how weird you were being.

Come was gross.

You hated swallowing so you never did. The tentative relationships at the garrison had been short, you had all been teenagers, and now anything that happened was a one off thing sometimes involving aliens.

You swallow, gripping the counter of your sink. You were horny again.

No.

Not going there.

No space weirdness this morning.

Because you’re on leave for the space equivalent of 6 or 5 days, you don’t have much to do. You get food. It had taken getting used to, and figuring out which brightly colored pastel goo thing was good, but there was a variety. You still had no clue what was plants or animals up in space.

The more liberated planets, the more supplies trickled in. Pirates loved to take a cut.

You eat as soldiers stop by to refuel, fill up on supplies. Despite the stress, you missed being out on the front. Being out of the action sucked.

Sitting around on a spaceship was boring.

It wasn’t like they had shops or movie theaters. Walking around too much ended up with you being in the way.

You clench your jaw, feeling feverish.

And you had just been getting better. . .

You shove the thought away.

You end up watching space TV: reality TV shows like Galra Ninja Warrior and nature docu series on plants, some you’ve been on, before finally sliding your hand under the waistband of your trousers and rubbing your clit.

It takes the edge off, but the heat’s still there, pressed up in the pit of your stomach, cheeks flushes and you sigh, unsatisfied as you click to something other than the marine biomes of Kmeolsuahr. For aliens larger than a schoolbus, they were peaceful creatures. Since they were filter feeders, agriculture had never developed a hold on their planet, but water generators were plentiful.

Yet another show starring Galra. It was the most common type of show in the Empire. Hijacking communications had given this traveling spaceship TV. You were glad for it now.

You curl up, the communicator snug around your wrist translating everything instantaneously. It was the part in the soap where there has to be a duel for honor. What a load of crap.

The two Galra circle each other, close ups of their face like a mexican stand-off. Through TV you got to know the Glara in the empire as more than just soldiers. Spending time in the camps taught you that even Galra citizens could be arrested for treasonous statements against Zarkon.

They make growling alien sounds, something between a jaguar and a sound not found on earth, an underlying clicking that raises the hairs on the back of your neck.

You connect the dots.

The glowing eyes, the purrs and rumbles, and whatever weird alien thing was going on: the red paladin was part Galra.

Only that made no sense.

He was from Earth.

First contact had been what, when the paladins had disappeared? When the Kerberos mission had been abducted, and boy had that made fringe conspiracy theorists happy. . .how could he be part Galra?

Was it even your problem?

Surely this would go away. . .

You were leaving in a little over five days.

You curl up and watch TV until you fall asleep, determined to enjoy the rest while it lasted and your weren’t trudging through waist deep mud.

“Read through the debrief,” a commander with a nebulous rank above you asks. In your line of work, so much was redacted. Information gathering was a fancy way of saying spy. It was why you worked so closely with the rebels.

You don’t even blink at the slight pale easter egg yellow alien, ears that resembled hair, long and droopy like a rabbit: there were four of them. You’d met stranger. “Yeah. Long mission.”

You were not looking forward to being on a planet with an inhospitable surface. A sun close enough that set the surface on fire with it’s rays, no thanks.

Still, it was your assignment.

“It is vital.”

They always said that.

It seemed to be extracting some key players. Who they were remained unknown until you had to know. It was a lot of flying blind to keep information from leaking to the wrong ears. Loose lips sink ships and all that jazz.

“I’ll treat it that way,” you nod, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth. It would be fun flying a hijacked Galra fighter ship. The planet was pretty deep in Empire controlled space.

“And,” the alien looks you up and down like a Garrison RA finding a stain on your uniform during morning inspection, “get rid of that scent.”

“What,” you ask plainly, “scent.”

The alien raises a hairless muscle over its eye. The gesture is human enough. “Voltron has docked here.”

It was subterfuge. Both of you were in the same line of work, you could do this dance in your sleep. “As far as I know, yes.” You are careful to keep your expression neutral, feeling stupid for not having used negating get. It wasn’t even rationed, but used pretty widely. There were many aliens who relied primarily on scent, and those whose sense of smell was far sharper than yours.

“Mm.”

You hold their gaze.

You weren’t one to waver.

“Any further questions?”

“None.”

“Good.”

You walk blithely back to your room, intending to shower, again, and probably take care of the warmth in your gut. The heat was like an uncomfortable itch under your skin that stubbornly remained no matter how much you ignored it.

How was it even possible that Keith was any part alien let alone Galra? You were pretty sure the entire planet would have known if the Galra arrived on the planet.

It was intriguing.

Your mind drew up the details you knew, trying to make them fit. It was half mental exercise, half the urge to actually get to the bottom of this. Keith didn’t look half Glara like Prince Lotor and his gang of misfits. . .quarter, one sixteenth. . .

Occam's Razor.

The mystery occupied your mind as you made it back to your quarters.

Keith is pacing outside your door.

How did he even know where your quarters were?

“Did you sniff your way here,” you ask, genuinely curious. Maybe the traits might not be apparent. . .just how Galra was the red paladin. You were reminded again how little you actually knew him.

Understanding fills his eyes; he knew you knew. Keith looks over at you for a second before ducking his head dejectedly, a straw dog expecting to be run off.

Your heart ached.

How a paladin of Voltron could be so self conscious despite going toe to toe with the Empire on a daily basis. . .you didn’t know. They were only flesh and blood after all.

You take pity on him, “so is this going to be a thing,” the corners of your mouth lift into a small smile. You were still a little sore. You wouldn’t mind going another few rounds. . .

But you needed to clear some things up first.

Just how much of this between you was space Galra funkiness?

Keith snorts, looking up, meeting your searching gaze. His shoulders were still tense, unsure that you weren’t about to tell him to shove off. Not the loner type entirely by choice then, his innate awkwardness must have made it hard to connect.

It wasn’t a problem you’d ever had, rushing into everything headfirst, taking charge.

“Not like there’s a lot of humans to choose from up here,” he says self-deprecatingly.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I’m down for some alien funkiness,” you answer evenly, taking a step towards him. He inhales sharply, looking away again, this time in thought.

The lines of his face increase, clearly uncomfortable, frowning.

“I can’t usually,” Keith admits in a tense voice, “smell this well. . .though I can smell better than Shiro.”

“Shiro?”

“The black paladin,” he explains, surprised he has to explain at all.

You answer his unvoiced question, “everyone tends to focus on the color of the lion rather than the pilot inside.”

“Oh. That’s dumb.” He looks a little relieved at the anonymity that grants.

“Is it just me then,” you ask, getting to the bottom of things.

He nods, meeting your gaze. “I don’t know why but I can’t stop thinking of fucking you,” he says without ceremony.

You find yourself blushing. The connection went both ways, the very alien connection. “Don’t hate me but I think we should go to the medic.”

Keith frowns. “Or we could just fuck.”

“That horny,” you tease, raising a brow, “or was I just that good?”

Keith cusps a hand against your cheek, his thumb running over your lips.

Your mouth parts, the tip of your tongue grazing his thumb.

“So you don’t want to fuck,” Keith asks, a playful smirk on his lips.

You swallow, the urge to say yes right there as his touch on you entranced you, sending desire cascading through your body down to your toes. “This isn’t just alien weirdness is it?” You wanted it to be more.

“No,” he shakes his head, his breath mingling with yours. “That’s-I’m not that impulsive.”

“Good,” you mutter, pressing your body against his, and opening the door to your room.

#keith kogane #vld keith #keith x reader #keith kogane imagine #mine #smut #surprisingly soft for being esentially a take on the whole galra heat thing in fanon #part 2 will b just sex lol #feedback much appreciated (as a motivator too)

395 notes · View notes