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killerlookz · 2 days

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hiii!!<3 if you’re thinking abt writing for joost, can u pls write some thing abt an established relationship fic based off the song birds of a feather by billie eilish if u can! love ur writing!

Hi anon! thank you sm for the request <33 this song is so sweeeet omg!!! also... technically an established relationship, but i do recap how reader and joost met :-)

Birds of a Feather | Joost Klein

description: gn!reader reflects on all the special moments in your and Joost's relationship following an unexpected proposal.

content: so insanely cheesey! sorry! pure fluff! + lots of crying (mostly happy tears) literally the most tiny smallest sexual reference

word count: 2426 (this was supposed to be under 1k words but i got soooo carried away)

/I don't know what I'm crying for / I don't think I could love you more/

Shaky fingers fiddle with the cold metal looped around your ring finger. Your hand flexes outward, watching as the light from your window reflects onto the small stone. Something warm rolls down your cheek- a solitary teardrop, caressing the skin of your face. Your hand reaches up to wipe away the tear, but it's too late, you can feel more welling up near your waterline, any sudden movement now would send tears streaming down your face. You look up, your eyelids brink rapidly in an attempt to prevent the inevitable waterworks.

You hadn't seen an engagement coming- in all the years you'd been together, it still seemed like a milestone that had felt so far away. Until Yesterday.

You and Joost had been nearly inseparable since just about the moment you had met- A nervous 20-year-old studying abroad in the Netherlands for your second to last semester of university. You sat on the stairs outside of the apartment building that stood as your temporary housing for the semester, on the brink of tears, your randomly assigned roommate had been a real piece of work. You were on your third argument that week alone, and, saying you were fed up was an understatement. You contemplated at that moment packing your things and just going back home.

"Gaat het?" (Are you ok?) A voice calls out, a goofy-looking blonde standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looks vaguely familiar, you think you may have seen him in the elevator of your apartment once or twice.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, "Ik spreek niet veel Nederlands," Using one of the few Dutch phrases you knew to tell him you don't speak Dutch. You shake your head, kind of hoping he would get lost, not wanting to be bothered.

"Ah," He nods, "Do you speak English?"

You stare at him for a moment, unsure if you should lie, after all he was a stranger but something is telling you to tell him the truth.

"Yeah," You sniffle, attempting to remove any emotion from your face.

"Are you okay?" He asks again, this time you understand.

"I'm fine," You weren't exactly searching for a deep conversation about your current struggles in someone you didn't know.

"People who are fine don't usually sit outside their apartment building crying."

You bite your lip, contemplating engaging the kind stranger in what was ailing you at the moment. You sigh, having a feeling he would probably keep pestering you if you continued to insist you were feeling in a way you actually weren't.

"It's just my roommate-"

Two months after your first encounter with the blonde man at the bottom of the stairs, you were standing in front of a mirror, doing a final check of your outfit before going on your first date. You had learned his name was Joost, he was 21, and lived in an apartment two floors above you.

He was unimaginably kind, with a wit unparalleled by anyone you'd ever met before, and truthfully, he was very cute- so when he had initially asked you out, you couldn't get a "yes" out fast enough.

It seemed a little inconvenient, given that you only had one more month left in the Netherlands- but he knew this, and didn't necessarily seem like he had been looking for anything too serious. Besides, it would be nice for you to have a good connection with someone outside of the people you saw in your classes.

There's a knock at the door, and your feet are quick to start shuffling under you, you're practically running to go open it.

You stop for a moment as you get to the door, letting a deep breath fill your lungs to capacity, before letting it out, whipping the door open as you do so.

Joost is standing behind it, a smile plastered on his face, hands behind his back. He's dressed up, now that you thought about it, you never really saw him in anything other than a sweatshirt or t-shirt and some jeans. It was a pleasant change- a white button-up shirt and some dress pants even if both articles of clothing had been obviously wrinkled.

"Hey," He greets, removing his hands from where they rest behind him, revealing a bouquet of flowers in an outstretched arm, "These are for you- I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked so I sort of just guessed." He's unsure of himself, in an entirely endearing way. He was trying.

"For me?" You grin, "Aww, Joost!" You take the flowers from his hands, "Let me go find something to put these in."

A month later you're sitting on Joost's couch after what you assumed would be your last date together. Your study abroad program was ending in three days, and you'd be returning back home.

There is an air of sadness that surrounds you, one that you hadn't expected to feel- you'd only known the man for three months, yet somehow it felt like you were leaving someone you had known your whole life.

Gentle fingers grab onto your jaw, Joost is turning your head to force you to look at him.

"You know," He starts, "I've really been enjoying our time together."

"Me too," You agree, a small smile peaking onto your face, you try not to give way to the sadness you were feeling.

"And," He says, "Y/n, I really like you, and I think if I don't ask you now, I'm never going to get the chance to ever again."

"What?" You perk up, your heart suddenly beating much faster, your breathing quickens, unsure of what he's going to say next.

"Well- I- what I'm trying to say is, do you want to go out with me? Like- officially- like dating." His voice is trembling, you'd never seen him so anxious before.

"Joost I-" You sigh, the reality of your situation crashing into you harder than it had before, "I'm leaving soon- we'll be hours away, when am I going to see y-"

You're cut off by Joost's lips crashing into yours, your thoughts suddenly disappearing the second your lips connect. You're entirely overwhelmed with emotion, every wire in your brain is fried, this move was an utter surprise, up until this point your relationship had been entirely chaste; the furthest you'd gone was sharing a hug at the end of your dates. Still, you kiss him back, your hand finding its way to his shoulder, tugging at it, begging him to come closer to you.

It had been seven and a half months since you had last seen Joost, but the two of you had talked at length each and every day during that time. By now, you had finished your degree in University and were ready to really start your life.

You could remember the cheer of excitement on the other end of the phone when you told Joost after a month of job hunting you had secured a job in the Netherlands.

"Does that mean you're coming back here?"

"Yeah, the job starts at the end of next month ."

A month and a half didn't necessarily give you much time to plan things out to the extent you would have liked, but Joost was more than ready and willing to help you out.

He had posited moving into his apartment- but the suggestion while sweet- was quickly thrown out. It wouldn't have been an ideal commute to your new job.

So the two of you got on to looking elsewhere, he had been kind enough to take the time out of his days to go to apartment showings for you near where you'd be taking your job, keeping you on Facetime as he viewed the places.

Eventually, you had found one you absolutely fell in love with, in perfect distance from the job. The problem had been- it was quite a ways out of your budget. You were heartbroken, it had basically been your dream apartment.

Joost, always swift with solving problems, suggested that the two of you move into the apartment together, that way he could cover the rest of the rent that you couldn't afford. And while you were over the moon about his offer- you worried about what living together would do to your relationship, the two of you had known each other for less than a year- would living together be such a great idea?

But as you're standing in the doorway of your bedroom on the first night being in your new apartment, staring up at Joost, who's leaning against the door frame- you just know you made the right decision.

A careful hand glides across your cheek, resting at the back of your neck,

"Thank you for coming back," Joost muses, gently massaging the spot where his hand resides. You lean into his touch,

"There was no other option" There's an undeniable twinkle in your eyes, admiring the man who stood above you, tired and messy from a long day of moving.

"I've been waiting to tell you this in person," His grip on your neck suddenly becomes still, rigid, "And- even if you don't feel the same yet, I just wanted to say that I love you." He's talking fast, simpering after he finishes his short words before resuming the gentle massaging motion of his thumb against your neck.

The breath is almost entirely knocked out of you- he loves you.

The words just about run out of your mouth, "I love you too,"

"You do?" His pupils are blown wide, "You love me too?"

You nod fervently, never having meant a statement so immensely in your life.

Joost is leaning down now, his head tilted so his lips can perfectly interlock with yours. It is possibly the hungriest kiss the two of you had ever shared, with the obvious implication of love now behind it. If Joost hadn't snaked his free arm around your back, you probably would have fallen straight to the ground, your legs tingling with excitement.

He pulls away, looking into your mostly empty bedroom, a smirk appearing on his face,

"What do you say we christen that bed I spent all day putting together?"

Five years later you're still living in that same apartment, the once-empty space now fully decorated with beautiful memories.

And now, the most crystal-clear memory sparkled in your brain, almost as bright as the ring itself. You'd been crying in intervals since then- since it happened since - You replayed it in your head.

"Do you remember when we first met?" Joost's fingers interlock with yours as the two of you walk down a familiar street- You were unsure of why Joost had insisted on taking you here, to the town where you both had lived when you met.

"How could I ever forget?" You grin, "Feels like just yesterday I was crying to some strange Dutch boy about my roommate issues."

"And how you told me, you never wanted to see the Netherlands again?" His words are slow as he looks deeply into your eyes, glimmers of adoration shining from every feature on his face.

"God, I was so dramatic- wasn't I?" You look away from him, scoffing as you look down at the pavement, thinking about your old self, looking back on it- it was a stupid decision to let one person ruin almost two months of your life, but back then it seemed like the biggest deal in the world. "Funny" You shrug, "The decision I made to talk to you on the day I was most certain I was just going to pack up and leave forever led me to making the Netherlands my home." You shake your head, "I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't met you on that day, but I don't think there's a reality that exists where we aren't together."

"Don't make me cry," He chuckles.

"I mean- I don't mean to be all sappy, but it's true- if soulmates are real, I can guarantee you're mine."

He's grinning now, you'd been so lost in your thoughts you barely noticed where the two of you had ended up, back at your old apartment, right in front of those very steps the two of you had met on.

He's pulling you up the stairs, and needless to say you're confused about this trip down memory lane.

"I think it's only appropriate that I do this here," His voice is low, and he's blinking more rapidly than usual. His hand slips from yours, and falls into his pocket- you watch anxiously for his next move. There's something in his hand now, and he's slowly bending down onto one knee.

The tears start nearly immediately, before he says a single word, you're cupping your mouth with your hand

"Y/n," He looks up at you, through the lenses of his glasses you can see there are tears in his eyes too, "Wil je met me trouwen?" (will you marry me)

"Joost," You choke out a sob- "Yes, Yes!" Your whole body is full of a tingling sensation, and your heart feels like it occupies more space in your chest than it did before, swelling with an overwhelming amount of love.

Joost grabs your trembling hand, caressing it tenderly with his thumb before slipping on the ring. You let him hold your hand for a moment more before you're pulling it away, desperate to see. You outstretch your hand in front of you, looking at the glimmering stone that sits on your finger. A visual confirmation of what had just happened.

He's barely stood all the way up before you're reaching for him, knocking into him with an embrace so energetically that it nearly knocks him over. As he catches his balance he wraps his arms right back around you, pulling you into him.

If you were to have gotten any closer, the atoms that make up each of your bodies may have actually fused together. Though you wish you could, despite how you fully braced Joost's body it doesn't feel like enough you want him closer to you.

Still, you're so warm in his tight embrace, letting out choked tears of joy against his chest.

A gentle kiss falls on the top of your head, followed by your favorite words to hear out of Joost's mouth, "Ik hou van jou." (I love you)

You shut your eyes, basking in the moment, you could absolutely get used to hearing those words every day for the rest of your life.

/I'll love you 'til the day that I die / 'Til the light leaves my eyes/

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #rpf #joost klein x you #joost klein fanfic #joost klein fic

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monstersflashlight · 15 hours

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It’s finally here, I know I’ve been teasing with this story for weeks but life has been hectic and I wanted to do some requests, but here it is, the forest entity story. Hope y’all enjoy it!

The tree-hole debacle

Forest entity x fem!human || very light dub-con, tentacles (more like vines), bondage, squirting

Oh no. Oh, no, no, no... You kept chanting in your brain. You were trying to reach the fucking shiny thing you saw in the tree's hole and you got stuck. In the middle of the forest. All your torso inside a tree-hole and your legs kicking the air. You couldn't get out. You were stuck. You felt like you were living your own bad porno. Fuck.

You always knew your eagerness to pick stuff in the woods would bring you problems, but you never thought it would be in the shape of a tree. A fucking tree. You were just walking around the forest trying to find some good pieces to build some more fairy jewelry, who knew you could get stuck in a tree. And now you didn’t know what to do, how to get out. A spark of anxiety was creeping up your back. What if you died there? What if they found you dead in a tree-hole? They would think you are a weirdo. Well, in that they wouldn’t be wrong, but that would be so embarrassing. News would say something along the lines of “young girl found in a tree”, and that would be awful in so many levels. God damn it.

You tried crying for help, but you knew there wasn’t anyone coming, you never followed the path, confident you’d find your way back. And you always did, you have some kind of sixth sense about these woods, they called to you. And well, now you called whoever was listening to get you out of that damn tree-hole.

When you felt something creeping behind you, you started kicking your legs, trying to scare whatever animal was close. You didn’t want to be attacked by a random wolf or something. You didn’t even know what kind of animals could roam the forest, you were so careless in the way you explored the woods without thinking about it. You felt like a dummy now, a completely dumb woman who was now stuck in a fucking tree.

Something behind you let out a growl, you started to panic, moving your legs faster, making sounds to scare it away. A light caress to the back of your leg made you twitch, your whole body reacting with full on panic. But before you could scream, you were hanging out upside down, roots embracing your body. You were suspended in the middle of the woods, a weird creature made of leaves and some kind of mud in front of you. He slowly shook your body up and down, making you bounce in an uncomfortable way.

Your confusion, added to being upside down, made your head feel all kinds of dizzy. The roots around you seemed to come from everywhere, like he could control all the things around you. What was he? He answered you without having to verbalize your question: “I’m the spirit of these woods, and you, human, were asking for help. I came.” His voice sounded deep, like if he was talking from inside a cave, an echo of a real voice. Your body shivered.

“I- You- What?” Your confusion at everything happening was making your head spin. He turned you around, hanging you in an upright position this time, your feet still far away from the ground.

“You were screaming, the little creatures came to find me. And here I am,” he explained. His matter of fact statement made you think he was crazy. Maybe you were crazy. Maybe you did die inside that damn tree-hole and all of this was just an hallucination.

“Thanks?” You didn’t know if that was the correct answer, the vines and roots around your body wouldn’t stop twitching, touching, careful not to touch any of your most vulnerable parts. But hey were exploring everything else, caressing your hair, your cheeks, your legs… “Can you put me down?” You asked.

“No.” That instant denial should have scared you, but weirdly enough, you didn’t feel fear or panic anymore. Your body was calm, your mind completely quiet and relaxed. What kind of weird mojo was he doing to you? “You asked for the help of a forest spirit, you need to repay your debt now.” You looked at him expectantly, trying to convey you needed more explanation. He didn’t say anything.

“What the fuck does that mean?” You finally asked, a spark of anger rising inside your chest.

He nodded as if your question was answered like that and said: “I will take you now.” The vines around you started to pull at your clothes. You struggled against the hold, but they were so strong and tight that you could barely move some millimeters.

You struggled harder, screaming at him: “What? No!” You looked at him with all the fire inside of you. If looks could kill, he’d be killed right there, right now. But it wasn’t the case. He just looked amused at your struggles. But he stopped the vines from moving, some of them hovering over your tits and mouth, so close you could smell the petrichor smell they emanated. It was intoxicating.

“You have to pay, human. The balance must be restored.” That made no sense to you, he talked about restoring balance as if you had a debt with the forest or something. What?

“But I didn’t ask for your help.” He looked back at you skeptical, his dark eyes so expressive even though he didn’t have eyelids or brows. His face was so weird, but enthralling at the same time. “Okay, I did need help, but I don’t- I don’t want to have sex with you,” you lied through your teeth.

The truth was that you were aroused, the vines around your body were making you all kinds of horny. You always dreamed of being tied down, of being at the mercy of your partner as they took their fill off you. And without knowing it, he was restraining you, making all your fantasies come to the surface and making your pussy tingle. But you weren’t going to say that to him.

“What is sex, human?” The question caught you off guard, how could he not know what sex was?

“You… You said you’d take me.”

He was looking at you intently, like the answer to your unasked question was obvious and you were just dumb. Maybe you were. “I’ll give you pleasure so your juices can fertilize my forest,” he explained. You could what?

“You what? Fertilize? What?” And then it clicked. “You want to make me cum?” It seemed so random you couldn’t fully process what that meant.

“I believe that’s how humans call it, yes.”

You argued with the angel in your head, but the demon rapidly won the argument and before you could process it fully you were saying: “I- I- Okay.” Your voice was barely a whisper but he nodded and the vines around you closed more firmly against your body, making you shiver. It was weirdly comforting to be held so tightly.

You clothes were pushed away, thrown carelessly to the ground and you found yourself wrapped in vines and roots, suspended in the air. He opened your legs fully, exposing your holes to his eyes. He approached you then, his weird face close to your pussy, but not touching. The leaves around his head tickled the inside of your legs as he inspected you, his breath cold against your heated skin. You whimpered, being exposed to him so openly was embarrassing beyond belief, but the juices dripping off your cunt were even worse.

He reached around him and took some kind of leave, different to the ones covering his head. He squeezed it until a clear substance formed. He coated one of the vines with, the vine shifted into a wider form, cupping your whole pussy, coating it with the substance. At first, you felt nothing, but suddenly scolding heat ran through your body and you came. Just like that. You came faster than ever, he didn’t do anything, he didn’t touch your clit, your entrance… He just put some magical liquid over your cunt and made you cum. What the fuck?

You didn’t get to catch your breath before another vine was proving your entrance, making you moan loudly as it pushed inside. Two more vines appeared, framing your boobs and squeezing, some leaves playing with your nipples at the same time. The pleasure was maddening. The combined sensation of the vine entering you and the leaves was so overwhelming that you came again. This time your scream was cut short when another vine pushed against your asshole. Surprise and arousal made you arch your back, which was fruitless, the restrains on your body so tight you couldn’t move at all.

He was still close, observing the vines playing with your body, controlling everything but not touching you. You felt dehumanized, you were just a means to an end for him. And that made you hot. You could be anybody, everybody. He didn’t care. He just wanted your juices… And he was milking every drop off you.

The vine on your pussy pressed against your G-spot, the sensation too rough and raw. Some more juices gushed around it as you came again. He hit and probed and pushed and made your mind go blank as he transformed your body into a pleasure machine. You came, and came, and came. You were sure there was a river down your legs at that point. You were crying, tears running down your face as he assaulted all your sensitive areas at once. Your body felt like an exposed nerve.

When you thought you couldn’t take anymore, he pushed a new vine in your already overflowing pussy. You saw stars as the vines inside of you intertwined. You were so full, so sensitive, you couldn’t stop crying in pleasure, your voice long gone.

And then something inside of you broke completely and you were peeing. Peeing? No, squirting. He made you squirt. Your juices flowed over him, showering his leaves like summer rain. You ascended to another plane, the pleasure beyond human realm, the orgasm so good your brain broke a bit.

He stopped abruptly, his leaves shiny and his face contorted in some sort of a grin. “That would be all, human. You paid the debt to the forest.” You blushed deeply as he lowered your naked body to the ground, a bed of moss forming under you. “I’ll see you soon,” he muttered as he disappeared before your eyes. The earth literally swallowed him.

#forest entity #forest spirit #forest entity x human #forest entity x reader #monster #monster fucker #monster imagine #monster x human #teratophillia #monster x reader #terato

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blacktabbygames · 3 days

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Something I've been curious about were you guys always going to plan the stranger having her own special ending before you got to the final stranger? Or was that something you decided after you finalize the stranger?

A lot of the narrative design work on Slay the Princess came from following things to what felt like their logical conclusions, and letting the pieces fall into place as they clicked. Given the looping nature of the game, it made sense for the "final" encounter to be with the "first" Princess, taking you right back to where you started and asking you to make the same choice you had to make at the very beginning of the game, but now with all of the context that comes with playing through the game. The Stranger stuck out like a sore thumb there, since if you do her route first, she's the first Princess you meet, rather than Chapter 1's Knife!Princess or NoKnife!Princess. So it only made sense to give her a special ending, which also balances out how short/linear her route is overall (even if, in terms of game logic, she had far and away the most complicated chapter to code.) The Unknown Together ending in general was another piece of the puzzle that just happened to fall into place near the end. In the earliest draft of that ending sequence (in my brain only) you would arrive at the final cabin knife-already-in-hand, since you'd only get there by resisting the Shifting Mound. But as we started actively working on that part of the script, it felt more compelling to set up that final situation as a more direct mirror of Chapter One.

And because we wanted it to be a reflection of the beginning of the game, it made sense that whether or not you take the blade with you downstairs should be a huge decision. Almost a little test for our players — did you realize by the end of your runs that the knife doesn't, like the Hero suggests, "always seem to give us more options than not?"

But needing to include that choice raised the question of, "well, what happens, metaphysically, if you don't bring the knife?" And the answer that was most compelling to us was "we don't know, and the fact that we don't know is what makes the choice so compelling." One of those bits where it's wild to think about how late an addition that ending was, since I think it's vitally important to the themes of the story. If the nature of death is a major thematic through-line of Slay the Princess, The Unknown Together is the only ending that truly confronts its terrifying mysteries, and it does so by abandoning fear on the floor of that final cabin.

#slay the princess #there's probably a ton to say about the earlier ideas we had for the climax #but that's probably something to post about some other time.#for now i return to scarlet hollow

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hxeluvr · 3 days

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Coffee Stains and Misspelled Names

PAIRING: barista!joost klein x fem!regular customer!reader

genre: fluff , comfort

You pushed open the glass door of the small, cozy coffee shop, the bell above the entrance chiming softly. The familiar aroma of freshly ground coffee beans and baked goods enveloped you, instantly putting you at ease. You scanned the room and, as usual, found him behind the counter, a mischievous grin already playing on his lips.

"Good morning, Joost," you greeted, stepping up to the counter.

"Morning, sunshine!" he replied with his usual enthusiasm, his eyes sparkling with that teasing glint you had come to both expect and, reluctantly, look forward to.

"One caramel latte, please," you said, handing over your card.

"Sure thing," he said, swiping it before turning to the machine. "How's your day going so far?"

"Pretty good," you answered, watching him work with an effortless grace that came from months of practice. "Just hoping it stays that way."

Joost glanced back at you, one eyebrow raised. "Well, I'll do my best not to mess up your order too badly," he teased.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips. "You always get my order right. It's my name you have trouble with."

He laughed, a warm, infectious sound that filled the cozy space. "Guilty as charged. So, how should I spell it today?"

"How about you try getting it right for once?" you challenged, leaning on the counter.

"No promises," he said with a wink, scribbling something on the cup before handing it over.

You took the cup, hesitating for a moment before looking at the name written on it. Sure enough, it was another creative twist on your name. Today, it read "Y/Nelle."

"You know, my name isn't that hard to spell," you said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I know," he replied, leaning against the counter opposite you. "But where's the fun in that?"

You shook your head, trying to hide your smile. "You're impossible, Joost."

"Maybe," he said, his grin softening into something more sincere. "But I make a mean caramel latte, don't I?"

You took a sip, savoring the perfect blend of coffee and caramel. "I can't argue with that."

As you turned to find a seat, Joost called out, "Same time tomorrow?"

"Wouldn't miss it," you replied, feeling the familiar flutter in your chest as you walked away.

The next day, and the day after that, you returned to the coffee shop. Each time, Joost had a new creative spelling for your name, and each time, you found yourself looking forward to it more and more. His playful nature, the way he seemed genuinely happy to see you – it all became a highlight of your day.

One particularly rainy afternoon, you stepped into the shop, shaking off your umbrella. Joost looked up, his grin widening when he saw you.

"Hey there," he greeted. "Usual?"

"Yes, please," you said, your eyes meeting his. There was something different in his gaze today, something that made your heart beat just a little faster.

He handed over your cup, and you glanced at the name written on it. This time, it read "Beautiful."

You looked up, surprised. "Trying something new today?" you asked, your voice softer than usual.

Joost leaned in a bit closer, his eyes holding yours. "Thought I'd try getting it right for once."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "You did a good job," you murmured.

"So," he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice now. "What are you doing after your coffee?"

You smiled, feeling a rush of excitement. "I guess that depends. What do you have in mind?"

Joost's grin returned, brighter than ever. "How about we find out together?"

As you sipped your caramel latte, Joost stepped out from behind the counter, wiping his hands on his apron before untying it and hanging it on a hook. You noticed he seemed just as excited as you felt. He held out his hand, a silent invitation that you didn't hesitate to accept.

The two of you walked out into the rain, sharing an umbrella. Joost kept it tilted more towards you, making sure you stayed dry even as he got a bit wet. It was a small, sweet gesture that warmed you more than the coffee ever could.

"So," you began, trying to break the silence that was filled with a tension neither of you wanted to acknowledge yet. "Where are we going?"

"There's a small bookshop around the corner," he said, glancing at you. "It's quiet, cozy, and they have the best selection of classic novels. Thought you might like it."

You smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness. "That sounds perfect."

The bookshop was everything he promised – warm and inviting, with shelves packed from floor to ceiling. The smell of old paper and ink mingled with the lingering scent of rain, creating an atmosphere that was both nostalgic and comforting.

As you browsed the shelves, Joost picked up a book and handed it to you. "This one's a favorite of mine," he said. "Maybe you'd like it too."

You took the book from him, your fingers brushing against his. A jolt of electricity shot through you at the contact, and you saw a similar reaction in his eyes. "Thanks," you said softly. "I'll check it out."

You spent the next hour exploring the shop together, sharing your favorite books and discovering new ones. It felt easy, natural, like you had known each other for much longer than a few months of daily coffee visits.

Eventually, you both ended up in a small reading nook at the back of the shop, sitting close together as you shared passages from the books you had picked up. The rain continued to patter against the windows, but inside, everything was warm and serene.

"Do you do this often?" you asked, turning to look at him. "Take customers out for impromptu bookshop dates?"

Joost chuckled, shaking his head. "No, you're the first," he admitted. "There's just something about you. I couldn't let another day go by without getting to know you better."

Your heart swelled at his words. "I'm glad you did," you said, reaching out to take his hand. "I like this – us."

He squeezed your hand gently, his smile widening. "Me too," he said. "So, what do you say? Same time tomorrow?"

You leaned in, closing the small gap between you, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. It was a gentle promise of more to come, filled with the sweetness of new beginnings.

"Same time tomorrow," you agreed, knowing that this was just the start of something beautiful.

@hxeluvr 2024

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redfoxwritesstuff · 2 days

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Wild Flowers (18+)

Alastor x reader Rated: Adult, 18+ Content warnings: Sex pollen trope and related questionable consent due to intoxication, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, knotting, praise, dancing that shouldn't be that sexy, biting, a touch of blood drinking, female masterbation, some possessiveness, Alastor being a bit of an ass

Summary: You had always loved flowers, so when you found a patch of pretty purple wildflowers growing in the small forest behind the hotel, you didn't think twice about picking a small handful to bring back to your room. While they smelled lovely, you were wholly unprepared for the side effects of exposure or the repercussions of offering the terrifyingly handsome Radio Demon a smell on your way to your room.

With your body burning from the inside out with an overwhelming need and a displeased Radio Demon pushing his way into your room, you have no idea what you're in for.

All you wanted was to pick some flowers but you got so much more.

~~~~~<3

You loved flowers. In life, you would gleefully pick wildflowers any chance you could get. It disappointed you endlessly to find they were far and few between in hell. The natural environment was a wasteland dotted with twisted trees with toxic sap and sharp grass.

Florists imported flowers from the other rings where things grew better, less touched by the toxic byproducts of human souls indulging in the worst of the worst. Things in Pride ring were never what they seemed and what did grow often caused rashes or fought back. Everything was out to get you. Nothing could be trusted.

That was a lesson you had to learn repeatedly over the years since your death and yet, you still found yourself being over eager. Learning from your mistakes wasn’t something you were good at.

You didn’t think twice when walking through a trail in the wasteland behind the hotel, being mindful to an extent of the sharp grass and trees. The trees were thicker here, a small patch of forest that you were eager to explore. With everyone at the hotel away, the building technically closed while the residents tended to assorted meetings and appointments, you had nothing else to do.

In it you found something you hadn’t expected to find at all, a patch of pretty purple flowers. Their petals were heavy with pollen as you drew your face close, taking a deep breath, letting the floral scent wash over you.

Finding them pleasing both to the nose and the eye, you picked a few while humming an old tune Alastor had been playing earlier that morning. It wasn’t exactly your taste but the old jazz had a way of lingering in your mind, the same way the man who favored it did.

With a small bunch of purple blooms clutched in your hand, you made your way back to the hotel. The day was getting warm, making sweat begin to dampen the back of your neck, under your hair. It would feel nice to return to the air conditioning of the hotel.

You hadn’t expected to find anyone in the hotel but as you made your way down the hall, Alastor was leaving his room. He glanced at you, eyebrow raised as he cut the tune he had been humming along to off.

“What have you got there?” He asked, ever present smile wide on his face. “Been to the florist or did a suitor come to share his affections with you? What would we do without your delightful presence if someone were to spirit you away?”

“No,” You smiled up at him and reminded yourself for the millionth time that the easy flirtation was simply a product of the time he had been raised in. He intended nothing by it. “I found them growing, they smell lovely so I thought I’d pick some for my room. Would you like to smell?”

He leaned in, taking a polite sniff as you held the flowers up to him, “Delightful.”

You excused yourself, allowing him to carry on with his day as you made your way to your room. A glance over your should as you made your way down the hall showed him standing tall and still, watching you from down the hall.

Finally, he gave a nod of his head and turned to go about his business as you reached your door, flowers clutched in hand.

It was warm in your room. The whole of the hotel had felt warm, now that you thought about it. Perhaps that was what business Alastor had been off to handle, seeing to getting the cooling system working. It wouldn’t have been the first time it broke since you’d moved in and it likely wouldn’t be the last.

You slipped your shirt over your head, leaving you in the clingy tank top that functioned as your undershirt, without thinking much of it. It wasn’t uncommon for you to shred the outer layer of your outfit when in the private space of your own room after all and it was so warm.

As you filled one of the glasses you kept in your room with water and set the flowers inside. Stepping back, you admired their color and delicate petals. You wished you had picked more, the glass looked half empty. Perhaps later, after this heat passes you’d go out and pick more.

It seemed like it just got hotter in your room as the day went on. Before long, you changed out your pants for a pair of short athletic shorts. Sweat dotted your skin as you fanned yourself with a notebook, feeling like you would burn up. You were restless, moving about your room as you tried to relax. All you accomplished however was working yourself up more.

You wanted to find Alastor, demand he find a way to fix the cooling. You wanted to make your way downstairs to the walk-in freezer and just sit in it, letting the frozen air bite at your overheated skin.

When fanning yourself no longer worked, you simply spread out on the bed as you took panting breaths. Could you get heatstroke in hell? Raising a hand in front of your eyes, you admired the way the back of it was flushed with heat before letting you hand turn, flopping down against your abdomen.

Your tank top had rode up, gathering around the thinnest point of your unnatural waist. The skin was hot under your hand and you found yourself rubbing your stomach, trying to soothe the hot skin.

The feeling set sparks over your skin, leaving you gasping. It was so hot in the room but every caress of your hand cooled the skin for a short moment. In a few moments, you were running your hands down your chest and abdomen, trying to caress away the fire under your skin as you panted.

Something wasn’t right. The hotel wasn’t hot, you realized, the heat was within you. The heatwave was coming from some internal fire and you needed to put it out before it consumed you.

Closing your eyes, you saw red eyes looking at you as your fingers brushed against the hem of your shorts. Thighs rubbed together as you felt the fire settle in your core. Every time you blinked, you saw red eyes. His red eyes dominated your thoughts.

When your fingers found your slit, it was soaked already. It was like your body was trying to drown the fire within it with its own fluids. It wasn’t enough though, the fire still burned. It burned hotter with every teasing pass of your fingers.

Your fingertip brushed your clit, sending electric sparks through you. The light, teasing brushes of your fingertips felt far better than they had in the past. It left you gasping. Somehow it was too much and not nearly enough at the same time.

With how wet you were, your fingers slipped between your folds without any intention to do so. It was still early in the day, far too early to be indulging in your body. The others could be home any time now, they could come back and hear you.

Again and again you told yourself to stop as you fingers circled your clit. Something was wrong, why couldn’t you stop?

Squeezing your eyes closed, you tried to think of anything to break the unbearable spell of desire that was washing over you. It didn’t do any good. All that closing your eyes did was bring forth an image of Alastor, watching you walk down the hall.

He was such a handsome man. Tall and lean. Powerful and frightening. He was everything you were attracted to. You knew how dangerous your affection for the man was, always trying to keep him out of mind.

As your middle finger slipped into your weeping hole, he was all you could think about. Caressing your clit with your palm, you worked your finger in and out, trying to put out the fire in your blood.

Desperate for more, you pushed a second finger inside, moaning as your body accommodated the intrusion easily. It wasn’t enough and you quickly added a third.

That was better. You were gasping now, working yourself closer to your climax in hopes that it would put out the fire.

“Alastor,” his name fell from your lips in a soft whisper as you tried desperately to push yourself over the edge.

You flinched, ripping your fingers from your core as a soft ‘tap tap tap’ sounded at your door. Icy dread washed over you in what should have been a welcome relief. Quickly cooling strands of slick fell on your thigh as you quickly wiped your fingers on your bed as you rushed to your feet.

“I know you’re in there, my dear.” Alastor called through the door.

Rushing to the door, you tried to straighten your clothes. There wasn’t much you could do for the sheen of sweat on your skin or the flush to your face. One deep breath later, you opened the door.

Alastor’s long fingers wrapped around the door as he leaned into the opening, “May I speak to you?” He asked, “In private?”

It wasn’t really a question. He was shoving the door open and knocking you to the side in his eagerness to enter your room before giving you a proper chance to answer. It was a space you had never once invited him into. The thought had never crossed your mind nor had the occasion to make the offer.

“Can I-” Alastor’s large hand reached out behind him, striking the door and slamming it shut harshly, the sound seeming to echo through the space as it cut your words off for a moment, “help you?”

“Perhaps you can!” Alastor’s smile was strained and pulled tight. “As upon doing some research, it appears you’re the cause of this minor trouble.”

“What are you talking about?” You followed him as he stormed into the room, “I’m kind of-”

“In the middle of something?” Alastor rounds on you, grabbing your hand, still damp in places with your slick, you realize to your horror.

“I- No, It’s not…”

Your words died in your throat as he pulled your hand up toward his face by the wrist. He took a long breath in, taking in the scent of you as your face burned with shame and your body burned with a wholly different fire.

Shap yellow grin split as his pale pink tongue slipped free from the fanged prison. It was too long, too pointed and you flinched back as it made contact with the portion of your palm that had just a few short minutes ago been pressed against your clit.

It got worse, or perhaps better, as he wrapped his tongue around your middle finger, searching out every damp place where slick still lingered between your fingers.

“Delicious,” Alastor hummed, eyes slipping closed for a moment, cutting off the suffocating eye contact he had been maintaining and allowing your heart to once again start to beat in your chest. “Where are those damned flowers?”

“What?” As he slipped your fingers into his mouth, sucking the remnants of your juices from them after he spoke, you struggled to process the question at all.

“The flowers,” He spoke against your palm after letting the digits free with a lewd twist of his tongue. “All I can smell is them and *you*. Where are they?”

Alastor’s red eyes flitted about the room, giving you a moment to really look at him. His face was flushed, something you had never seen before. His hair was mussed, with strands tangled on his antlers, seemingly caught from the action of running a hand through his hair. The antlers on his head were usually small with two prongs, easy to miss but now they stood taller by an inch or so, branching out more.

The longer his hand stayed wrapped around your wrist, the more you became aware of the contact. The drying saliva on your hand and fingers was no longer cooling. It felt like static danced over your skin where his claws wrapped around your wrist. It felt better the longer his touch lingered.

Alastor’s attention was on the flowers sitting prettily on your desk, blooms open wide and pollen dusting the petals. The snap of his fingers was far too loud in your room, amplified by the power the man contained.

Dark green flames sparked, shattering the glass and sending water spilling over your dresser. Delightful purple wild flowers curled, crisping before charring and turning to dust. Only broken glass and black ash was left, the water evaporated away with the heat of the fire, to show what had happened.

“Alastor?” You intended to sound outraged. You intended to be angry. You intended to yell at him.

Instead his name was breathy, falling from your lips as arousal washed over you. The display of power had your core tightening and need sparking the dim flame in your blood to life, bringing it to the forefront of your attention.

“You sound delightfully needy,” Alastor turned, bright eyes alight with something you couldn’t identify. “Do you know why that is?”

Alastor pulled you to him by the wrist still clutched in his crushing grip. His other hand came to rest on your hip. Without asking, he pulled you into a clumsy dance, moving your body with his and keeping his grip firm enough to ensure you didn’t consider disobeying.

You could feel his pants brush against your thighs with each clumsy step you took. Two of his fingers rested on the bare skin below where your top gathered, riding up your curve and above the elastic hem of your small shorts. It was hard to think of anything other than where he was touching your skin directly.

“No,” you finally whimpered out.

“Hyperrigidus purpureus,” He said as if those words should mean anything to you. “Your flowers.”

“Okay?” He tugged you closer to him, resting your free hand on his chest, not knowing what to do with it. The feeling of his chest, under his clothes made her mind run with what could be hidden under the layers of fabric.

“Flowers, one of the few that grow wild in Hell,” Alastor pulled you through the space, twirling you without sparing a thought for the way his thigh caressed your core as he took steps between your legs too large for you to have any hopes of matching.

Each fleeting contact had you clenching around nothing. You could feel your moisture heavy over your lower lips, slick spreading down your thighs with each pass of his thigh and lunging step. Never had you so much regretted the choice to forgo panties. There was nothing to contain your ever building slick as you felt his thigh smear it into your skin.

“Do you feel hot, darling?” Alastor asked, pulling you tighter to him as he twirled you around your modest room to music that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. “Does it feel like you could crawl out of your skin? Did touching yourself only dampen the fire in your blood slightly?”

“How do you know that?” Your breaths were coming shallow now, face aflame and blood raging in your veins.

“Because I feel it too, ma chérie.” Alastor laughed bitterly, pushing your hips into his tightly, “Do you know why it is I am plagued by burning desire just as you?”

“Why?” You felt the hardness of him against your hips, just beginning to awaken yet clearly present.

“Those cursed flowers. HA! Can you imagine, something as simple as flowers could do this to you? To me?” He spun you around, stepping between your legs with each leading stride, grinding your wet cunt against his thigh as you tried to ignore the fact that your slick was being smeared around now not by your thighs rubbing together but by his rubbing against you. “Of course, I had but a fleeting exposure and yet, I burn. The fire within you must be so much brighter, having stood within a field of them? Having plucked the cursed blooms with these very fingers you had buried in your dripping cunt? The fire is consuming you, is it not?”

He leaned down, into your space as his tight smile strained across his lips.

“What do-” You gasped as he pulled your hips against him, dragging your core up his thigh. “What do we do about it? How do we make it stop?”

“We cannot,” Alastor laughed again, “We must simply ride it out.”

Alastor shoved you on the bed harshly, towering over you as he made quick work of unbuttoning his coat. Sharp shadows danced around the room, smothering the light from the sconces on the walls, dimming them.

Alastor ran one hand up your thigh as he reached up to his neck, fingers trembling as they took hold of his bowtie, working it free. The fingers of his other hand slipped under the worn fabric of your shorts, thumb caressing your inner thigh, slipping on the slick in the process.

He tossed his bowtie to the ground where it joined his discarded coat. Your thigh trembled under his touch as you watched him easily unbutton the first three buttons of his collar, doing little more than to review the pale skin of his long neck.

“There are things we can do to make it more manageable,” Alastor said, fingers snagging the hem of your shorts and tugging them lower on your hips. “Things to lessen the discomfort and perhaps even make the experience enjoyable, as you’ve already discovered.”

You whined his name, shame and want warring in your voice. You were uncomfortably wet, shorts sticking to you as your eyes roamed over Alastor.

He looked indecent, delicious and dangerously sexy without his coat and neck exposed. The sight of him, just slightly disheveled had your core clenching. You could feel the wetness seep from you with the action.

Alastor leaned forward, both hands finding your legs as he pulled you by strong hands wrapped around your thighs. The grip was bruising as you were dragged to the edge of the bed, knees on either side of him.

“What are-?” You were not prepared for the feeling of him standing between your knees.

Nor were you prepared for the feeling of his fingers slipping under the waistband of your shorts. Your breath caught in your lungs as he pulled your shorts down, stepping back from you to allow them to be flung to the floor.

Cool air did nothing but heat your core more as you watched him take the sight of you in. Large hands gripped your thighs, pulling them apart. The dim light sparkled on your slick.

“You see,” Alastor dropped to his knees and ran his tongue out over his lips, “We’re both going to suffer with the effects of the exposure, perhaps for hours. I am going to suffer in this distasteful state because of your actions and you will have to deal with the consequences.”

“What?” You gasped, feeling the weight of his eyes on your slick cunt. He ran his fingers up your thighs, leaning into the space between them as his tongue ran across hot skin, soothing the fire in your blood.

“It is your fault that my body has betrayed me. It is your fault that all I can smell is you.” His fingers dug into your thighs, spreading them further apart as he ran his tongue higher up your leg. “It is your fault my body burns for you. It is your fault I crave to taste you.”

Alastor’s breath washed over your spread folds. His tongue ran over his lips again as if he was preparing for a feast.

“Please,” You begged, not sure if you were begging him for. Fire swam inside you, being stoked and soothed both by his touch.

“If I must suffer through this state,” Alastor leaned forward, breathing you in before licking slowly up your spread folds, greedily gathering your juices on his tongue and groaning at the taste. “Then I will use you to sate the hunger I have been so rudely cursed with.”

“What do you-” Your question became a gasp as he lapped at your folds, running the tip of his tongue around your clit with each pass.

Each circle became tighter, providing more friction on your sensitive nub. Soon his attention was focused on it directly, lapping his tongue over it between harsh sucks and teasing nips.

Just as the attention on your clit felt like it would send you over the edge, his mouth left it. Traveling down, his long tongue snaked into your hole, drinking your slick directly from the source. You were panting, desperate to come as his nose nudged your clit carelessly.

His tongue slipped out, finding your clit again as a dangerous claw tipped finger slowly slipped inside. Alastor teased your opening, hardly pushing in beyond his first knuckle as he brought you near your orgasm again only to withdraw and stand.

“Please,” you begged, hand running down your body to caress your clit yourself.

“Uncomfortable?” Alastor smiled down at you as he unbuckled his belt. He moved slowly, at a casual pace as if you where not spread out before him begging while your slick cooled on his face. “I imagine so, your exposure was much more than mine. Should I have you like this? I could walk out, take care of myself and ride out this condition in solitude.”

Your eyes fluttered between his face and his hard cock as he pulled it from his trousers. He was large and standing proud in his fist as he casually ran his fist along his length. Veins traced their way around him, leading to the angry red tip already smeared with precum.

He was larger than you’d ever had.

Pulling your knee up to rest against his hip, he placed his knee next to your thigh, allowing him to draw close. You reached out for anything to ground you as he ran the head of his cock along your folds. Again and again he repeated the action, smoothe head nudging your clit with each pass, sending lightening through your nerves.

“I need you,” You tried to wiggle your hips down closer to him. “Please. I’m so hot, Alastor.”

“You want me so bad?” Alastor sneered down at you, “Then you shall have me.”

Placing the head of his cock at your entrance, he twitched his hips forward. You gasped at the soothing pressure as his head just probed your tight opening. He was large, both in length and girth but you struggled to think clearly enough to consider what that would mean for you as the fire inside your blood became an inferno.

Alastor gave you one last moment to relax before snapping his hips forward and bullying his way inside your sopping opening. He spared no thought to your comfort as he harshly shoved your walls aside. Your slick provided more than enough lubrication for him to bury himself nearly all the way within you in one swift movement.

You cried out as he stretched you, walls stretching around his girth as your body gripped him, trying to protect your unprepared opening from his intrusion.

“It’s too much,” You cried out, pushing against him with your leg and weakly tried to escape the pressure against your cervix. “I can’t. I can’t. It dosen’t fit. You don’t fit-”

“You’ll take all of me,” Alastor said darkly as he continued to push forward, “I’ll make you take it all.”

Pleasure and pain mingled together as he pushed deeper still, head of his cock pressing against your cervix as he forced you to accommodate his length. He didn’t let up on the pressure until his balls were against your ass and his sharp hips were slatted tightly against you.

Only when you took every little bit of his considerable cock did he still, bent over you and panting. His eyes burned into you, the fire behind them as hot as the fire in your blood.

Never had you been so full. Never have you been so stuffed. You were stretched beyond what you thought was possible, impaled on a cock of such size you never would have guessed Alastor possessed.

You stretched, arching your back to try and somehow create more room for him within you. His strong hands gripped your waist and thighs, claws puncturing the skin ever so slightly. Though you tried, his grip didn’t allow you to put any distance between him and you, forcing you to lay and accept the burning stretch.

“What’s the matter, Little Doe?” Alastor teased, running his hand up your side and under your shirt, claws caressing the soft underside of your breast. “Doesn’t it soothe to have me inside you? Does it not smother the fire?”

“Yes,” tears gathered in the corners of your eyes, without the fire raging inside you there was no buffer between you and the burning stretch. “Too much. It’s too much.”

“Oh but I’m not leaving the warmth of your cunt,” Alastor pulled back a short inch or two only to ram himself back inside to punctuate his words, “until this is out of my system. The squeeze of you around me, it soothes me. I could stay just like this.”

Alastor’s words, the sound of his voice fanned the embers if desire to life again. It wasn’t fair, he was so calm and collected and yet you struggled to form thoughts around the way his cock twitched within you.

“Please,” you whispered, the fire in your blood coming to life with each twitch, dulling the pain. “It burns. Please, Alastor.”

“What do you want?” He sneered down at you.

“Something. Do something. More.” You rocked your hips against him, trying to dislodge him from where he pressed tightly against your cervix and get some sort of relief from the pressure, the pain and the burning.

“I thought I was too much for you?” Alastor teased, pulling back.

The drag of his cock along your stretched walls was painfully slow, inch by inch slipping out and letting your body relax. You could swear that you felt every vein along his shaft.

The emptiness you felt in your core shocked you. It should have been a relief to have his massive member removed from you body but it wasn’t. Looking down at him, you could see more and more of him and it made you want him to push back inside.

“Please,” you whimpered, head falling back on the bed.

“You keep begging like that,” Alastor snarled, head of his cock just slipping free from your core, “And I won’t be able to conduct myself as a gentleman.”

That thought, oh the way the fire surged with it. You twitched and wiggled, desperate for more as your mind was overcome with the smoke, struggling to think of anything else. If this was him being a gentleman, what would he be like when he wasn’t?

“Please, Alastor. Please, I need you.”

“You like that?” Alastor laughed, pushing both of your legs up around his hips and thrusting forward. “You want to just be used? Ha! Those little shorts, this flimsy top? I wonder how much of this is that damned flower.”

You moaned as his head bullied your cervix harshly only to withdraw and repeat the process, each push inside harsh and each pull out painfully, teasingly slow. You twitched and tried to rock with him only to be pinned in place as he put more of his weight on your legs.

“I need you,” You struggled to think as he both soothed the fire and fanned the flames. “Please, Alastor. Need you. Want you. Have wanted you for so long,”

You spilled your secrets without a single thought. It was worth it if spurred him on, if it would prevent him from stopping again. Did it matter if he knew you had thought about him when everyone else was sleeping?

He filled you again, slower this time as he curled over you, strained smile seeming to glow with his eyes in the dimly lit room. “For how long?”

“Always,” you struggled to think as his head pressed tightly against your cervix and his balls nestled against you.

He fucked into you slowly, each pull out bringing a wash of your slick out, coating your ass. The front of his pants were wet with slick where they hung off his hips. The hem of his shirt was damp with it, soothing your hot skin where ever it would smear against you.

“From the moment,” you struggled to speak, moaning as his pace picked up.

Looking away from him, you hoped that it would allow you to think. You didn’t have a chance to find out however.

Alastor planted his hand on the bed next to your head, supporting his weight. “Look at me,” He ordered, “You will look at me while I take you.”

“Alastor,” You whimpered as his thrust turned harsh, your body jerking with the force of it.

“For how long?” He asked again.

“Since we met,” your face burned. If it was from shame, desire or the flower, you didn’t know. “I’ve wanted you since we met. Please, Alastor.”

Your hands ran up his chest, pulling at the buttons of his shirt as you tried to ground yourself. Each hit against your cervix was intoxicating, shifting more and more away from painful as he forced your body to make room for him.

“There you go,” Alastor praised as his name fell from your lips again and again. “So good for me. See what you get when you’re a good girl?”

You hardly had a chance to register how close you were before your orgasm washed over you with a loud moan. The power of it left you gasping and panting as Alastor seemed to swell within you.

At first, you thought it was just the way you tightened around him as you came on his cock but there was no denying the way the base of his cock was changing with each thrust into you.

Grabbing you harshly, he forced himself as deep as he could reach as his whole body shuddered. The knot at the base of his cock felt like it would rip you apart, there was no way you could hold it within you in addition to his girth but he gave you no choice.

His cock twitched wildly as he rutted against you, rocking his hips rather than thrusting as you felt his seed explode. You were so full of him as the smoke seemed to blow away from your mind. Cold air caressed your skin as he pulled you up against him, supporting your weight as he sat back on the bed.

Your body weight forced him deeper still, ensuring his knot was well and truly planted inside you. You shivered against him as his lips ran over your neck.

“Alastor?” You licked your lips, trying not to moan as his still hard cock twitched deep inside you, pumping the final spurts of his seed inside your walls.

His knot was so tightly stuffed within your hole that not a drop of his seed was escaping as you straddled his lap.

“I wasn’t aware I could do this outside of season.” Alastor laughed as his sharp teeth ran over your collar bone, nipping and lapping at the blood his stinging kisses spilled.

“What?”

“This.” He said, trying to pull his cock from you only to have your hole unwilling to allow his knot to slip free.

“Is it,” Goosebumps ghosted your skin as he moved the thin strap of your top off your shoulder, not that it was hiding much from him at all. You could feel the thundering beat of his heart under your hand, half on bare skin and half over his partially open shirt. “Is it over?”

“Not even close,” Alastor’s hands pulled you back from him, shifting your torso on his twitching cock and making you moan. He pulled the thin tank top up and over your head, leaving you naked in his lap. “This is but a momentary reprieve, allowing for clear heads before the fire returns to life anew.”

“Then why are you-?” He ran his tongue over your nipple, teasing the bud with the tip.

“Oh!” He nipped at the sensitive bud as you felt the knot just inside you walls begin to lesson, “Because I can.”

Your legs flexed on either side of his hips, raising yourself carefully off his cock as the swelling at his base went down. What you expected was for him to allow you to separate, to allow his body and yours both to rest.

Alastor had other ideas however, thrusting up into you just as you had thought the head of his cock was going to slip from you.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Alastor grabbed your hands from his chest, pulling your arms behind you harshly. Your balance was lost and you sank down on his cock harshly, feeling it impale you as he gathered your wrists in one of his hands behind your back.

He pulled your arms back so far that you had no choice but to arch your chest into his face. Another powerful thrust up into you had you gasping as your hands dangled, fingers twitching between his knees as he bit at your breasts.

The fire quickly returned to your blood as Alastor worked his legs out of his pants, letting the stained garment fall to the floor as he fucked up into you.

“So weak,” He licked blood up from the curve of your breasts, smearing it as they bounced with the force of his thrusts, “You can only ride me if I allow it. How lucky are you?”

When you failed to answer him, he bit down on your shoulder. You clenched tightly around him, the coil in your core winding as quickly as the fire was returning to your blood.

“Answer me.”

“So lucky,” You were bouncing on his lap, head lulled back and hair falling away from you as he let you ride him in only the most technical terms. “So lucky, Alastor. I’m so close.”

All you needed was to shift just so and his body would caress your clit with each thrust. That would be enough to send you over the edge but you had no room to move. Your legs were going numb from how they were folded under you and he just kept fucking up into you.

“Do you want to come?” Alastor asked as the sound of his wet thighs slapping up into her filled the room. His hand left your hip to caress your abdomen.

“Please.”

“Look here,” his voice was gentle and you struggled to raise your head as he continued to thrust into you.

Looking down at yourself, you saw first how his massive cock would pull from you. He was drenched with your combined juices. For a moment, you had the irrational urge to run your tongue over him, to taste the way your bodies mingled.

There was a slight bulge in your abdomen each time his hips snapped up into you. His cock was so large that he was stretching you from the inside out. The sight had you moaning.

Your shoulders ached as he let go of your hands, pulling one forward and holding it to where his cock pushed out toward the world. You could feel him, every thrust into you from the outside.

Pushing against your hand, he made the pressure between the two of you even greater. His other hand gripped the hair at the back of your head, using your hair to anchor you. Each thrust ran against the palm of your hand as his teasing nips ran across your jaw.

“Come for me,” he ordered and you did, without a second thought.

His lips crashed into yours, kissing you for the first time as your jaw fell slack. You could taste yourself on his lips, drying and strong as he swallowed your moans. You could feel how your body strangled and convulsed around him. You could feel every twitch of his cock.

Without warning, he ripped his lips and cock both from you, tossing you to the bed. While your orgasm granted you a moment of clarity, fire raged in his eyes as he ripped at his shirt.

You looked up at him with fear as some bulbs around your room shone brighter and brighter before bursting, unnatural shadows growing deeper.

He climbed on the bed, grabbing your ankles and forcing you to flip onto your stomach. Strong hands ran up the back of your thighs.

“Alastor?”

“I am going to shape your cunt to me.” He promised, wet tongue running up the back of your thigh. “When I am done with you, no other man will be able to touch where I’ve reached. None will leave you satisfied.”

He pulled you to your knees. His body contorted, joints shifting to allow him to lean down, face close to your weeping cunt. His hot breath washed out over the swollen folds before his mouth was on you again.

Pushing you forward, your elbows collapsed causing you to fall face first on the bed. His tongue washed over your clit, working you closer to another orgasm with every pass before slipping with ease into your abused hole.

“Al-” every part of you was sensitive.

The fire was little more than embers again, quickly being stroked to life as he slurped up your combined fluids. Looking down, between your spread legs and under your body, you could see his massive cock hanging below his legs, heavy and glistening.

His fist stroked his length lazily as you clenched around his tongue, orgasm washing over you unexpectedly. You were mortified as you bit into the sheets. Alastor had coaxed this one from your body without the fires having had a chance to build in your blood.

This time you came from him alone, unassisted by the poison desire the flower’s pollen provided. The way he chuckled as he pulled back, licking his lips, told you he knew what he had done.

“That’s the third time,” Alastor announced, patting your over sensitive sex harshly, smile only growing as you moaned at the soft slap.

“Alastor, I can’t anymore.” You were over stimulated and sore. Your mind was lost on a cloud.

“You’ll take me until I am done.” Alastor entertained no discussion, pushing inside in a swift thrust.

His hand wrapped around the back of your neck as he pinned you face down, ass held up by a hand on your hip. You struggled to keep your head tilted enough to ensure you could still breathe as he fucked harshly into you.

A chaotic mix of music played from somewhere, though you didnt know where. You had no radio. Rather than covering the sounds of his balls slapping harshly against your clit, it accented it, station changing with every rough hit.

“What a good girl,” Alastor praised as you looked back at him from the corner of your eyes.

His pace was unrelenting, slamming into you our sore body again and again as you tightened around him. How many times would he make you come? How many times could you come?

“When I’m done with you, you’ll beg for me to take you again. You’ll do anything to have me take you. Your cunt will belong to me. Only me. Mine.”

His antlers were wide, heavy and dominating as he rammed into you with such force that the bed was jerking along the floor. Anyone at the hotel would know what was happening.

You couldn’t make yourself care as he folded over you, squeezing your breast and pinching your nipple. All you could care about was the way his cock hit that space deep inside you that none would ever be able to touch again.

Drool slipped from your lips but you couldn’t be bothered to care as the coil tightened yet again. How long has be been fucking you? You were hot and cold all over but you could think. At least, you were pretty sure you could think again.

It was hard to think with the way he pounded into you, the way his breath washed over your shoulder.

“Who do you belong to?” Alastor demanded, rutting harshly into you as his hand squeezed tighter, making your moans more gasping. “Who’s cunt is this?”

The raw possessiveness is what did it for you. You clenched again, fluttering and twitching as you came hard, his name on your tongue. He swelled again inside you, knot dragging in and out of your hole as he leaned forward and bit down harshly on your shoulder.

“Fuck,” He groaned, voice naked of the filtered overlay that was nearly always present as he slammed his swelling knot into your tight cunt again and again, chasing his release in your milking walls regardless of the way your opening caught on his knot with each thrust. A final groaned ripped from him as he declared you his as he slammed home, biting down a second time and not letting go. Your walls twitched and pulled at him, urging him deeper in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

You were locked against him by his teeth on your shoulder and his knot tightening in your cunt, somehow feeling even larger than the first time. His panting breath washed over you, blood dripping onto the bed from your shoulder.

His heavy cock jerked and twitched inside you as he shot his second load, filling your corked hole with his seed. Each small thrust if his hips had his knot pulling against your rim, unable to breach it without serious intention to do so. Every time you felt it tug against your opening, your breath caught and your body twitched around him.

He held you tightly to his body, torso pressed tightly against your back as his tongue soothed the puncture wounds he left on your shoulder. He twitched deep within you with every rock of his hips. You were limp in his arms, spent.

“How do you feel?” He asked, voice softer than you expected.

“So full,” you whimpered as his hands stroked soothingly over your skin.

“I know, My Doe, I know.” He shifted, falling to his side, taking you with him as he spooned you, still locked together by his cock. “You took me so well.”

“Is it over?” You whispered as he caressed your sides, hot breath making your hair tickle your face.

“Soon,” he promised, rocking his deflating knot until he could pull out of you only to lazily slip back inside your messy hole. “Just a little more.”

You whimpered as he lifted his knee, hooking your leg over it and spreading your folds as he worked your hole. You were sore, sensitive and yet your whimpers quickly turned into soft sighs as he caressed your clit.

The fire was little more than embers, no matter how he stroked you. That didn’t keep you from desiring the way his fingers felt on you. It was a desire that was nearly all your own now. You gripped his thigh, fingers slipping in the soft fur that ran up the outsides of his legs and nails digging into the skin.

“One more,” He promised as he worked your sore body up, tongue running along your neck and fingers pinching at your breast and clit both. “One more, and we’ll be done.”

You swore you couldn’t do it. Each stroke of his fingers was painful and yet your body tightened under his hand, greedy for more. He was softly working you up once again, grinning as you gasped and moaned with every thrust.

“Alastor, I-”

“Even after taking me again and again, you’re so tight,” his praise had you clenching around him. “Made for me.”

He sighed as you came around him, body too spent to do more than flutter and twitch, his name falling from your lips in a prayer. As you came, his thrusts turned harsher as he followed you, cock swelling yet again inside you.

The tip of his cock nestled against your cervix as he locked into place, twitching as he deposited another load inside you, whispered praise dripping into your ears.

You sagged on the bed, held tightly in his arms as you realized the fire was out. Sweat cooled on your skin as you sighed. Alastor was still held tightly within you, twitching slightly as his knot deflated more with each passing minute.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, afraid to face him now that you could think clearly. Alastor had never shown any interest in you in either a real romantic sense or a physical sense and you had essentially drugged him into a sex filled afternoon. It hadn’t been intentional but the guilt still ate at you.

“All’s well that ends well.” Alastor said against the back of your beck, “And I would say that ended rather well indeed. Wouldn’t you?”

You hesitated, not knowing what exactly to say. If you agreed, you feared giving away how much you had enjoyed the afternoon but if you disagreed, you would be insulting his performance.

Alastor rocked his hips against you, though he was softening for the first time he was still firm enough for the friction to have you gasping. “Well?”

“Yeah,” you blushed as he slipped out of you, feeling the wave of fluids that followed.

Alastor snapped his fingers, materializing a warm wet towel into is hand. Softly, he cleaned the fluids from your thighs as he hummed, sitting on the bed naked beyond the mostly unbuttoned shirt.

Sleep called to you, body sore and spent as his soft touches lulled you. Your eyes slipped open as his fingers caught your chin and forced your attention onto him.

“In the future, do not pick random blooms. You never can be sure what unintended consequences exposure will have. Oh, and do warn me should you find your nose in those particular blooms again, I wouldn’t want you to suffer.”

~~~~~<3 Tag List: @catticora

#alastor x reader smut #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor smut #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #radio demon x reader #radio demon x you

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cottonlemonade · 2 days

Note

can i have a menu a with a soda and dorayaki and sit next to oikawa!!!

Keeping Your Enemy Close

word count: 1460 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.

pairing: rival!Oikawa x chubby!Reader (feat. Seijoh 4)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

____________________________________________

“Do you want to know what I think?”

“No.”

“But-”

“Never, actually.”

Oikawa pouted, “Iwa-chan.” and then looked to Makki and Mattsun who immediately developed an immense interest in their shoes and surroundings. The four third years were busy leaning against a rickety folding table underneath a banner advertising the volleyball club, but even though many girls came over to check it out, boys seemed to make a wide swerve around them. They had only gotten three possible new applicants thus far.

“What do you think, Oikawa-san?”

The boys groaned when, with a wide smile and a flourish, Oikawa turned to yet another girl who had asked. She was nervously kneading her hands and blushing furiously. They knew her as a new addition to his fanclub, but to be honest they started to blend together for the other three. All gorgeous and leggy, she was definitely the captain’s usual type. Oikawa leaned in to whisper something in her ear they luckily couldn’t hear, then the girl gasped quietly and nodded before linking her arm with her friend and wandering off, throwing longing gazes over her shoulder at the setter, who waved after her.

“I think I’ll give it another week and then I’ll ask her out.”, he said, half to himself, half to his friends who quite frankly, couldn’t care less.

But a loud scoff came from their left and the boys turned to see their chubby class president with folded arms next to a stall handing out flyers.

“Something the matter, y/n-chan?”, Oikawa asked sweetly.

“Don’t call me that.”, you said automatically but the boy only grinned and regarded you with his signature teasing gaze.

“But you seem to like it, hm? Y/n-chan~ Now, what’s wrong?”

You clutched the flyers in your hands tighter in an attempt to control your breathing. “I just pity her, that’s all.”, you said after calming your heart a bit.

“Hm? Is that so? Are you sure it’s not because you want to go out with me?”

You knew you would get in trouble if someone reported you smacking him over the head with the flyers - again. So you resorted to glaring menacingly.

Because you didn’t have an answer.

Because you wanted nothing more, actually, than to have Oikawa Tooru notice you like that and ask you out.

But you would never tell him.

Instead you changed the subject and focused on the only thing that grounded your sanity.

“Tuck in your shirt before I write you up.”

Oikawa sighed and did as he was told, making very sure to slightly lift the shirt first to give you a glimpse of his toned stomach. He smirked when your lips parted slightly at the sight.

“So how about it, y/n-chan?”, he asked while carefully straightening out his uniform, “Should I take you out for a date? We could go to a park, maybe hold hands if you're nice to me and if you’re really nice to me I might even consider giving you a kiss or two.” He winked. He enjoyed this game way too much.

Iwaizumi, Mattsun and Makki had stepped aside, getting out of the way of your wrath.

“I would never.”, you held tighter onto the flyers for support, hoping your voice wouldn’t fail you as you went on, “I would never go out with someone as vain and arrogant and immature as you. You’re nothing but a volleyball obsessed gymnasium-dweller who happened to have slightly above average looks.”

Oikawa took that personally. He only stared wide eyed as you stomped away.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he turned to Mattsun as he shrugged, ”Well at least she thinks you’re handsome.”

Iwaizumi frowned, “That’s what you got from that?”

Oikawa knew you didn’t mean it. At this point, he could tell the difference between someone genuinely despising his guts and someone who was only trying to hide their true feelings. To be honest, you weren’t on his mind outside of school and even then he mostly drifted off while you made announcements in front of the class. To him you were just there, clearly in denial about your crush on him because of course he felt your eyes on him when you thought he wasn’t looking. Maybe he would go out with you, he thought. If only to prove a point. He wanted you to be putty in his hands and confess that you were into him, just so he could go a day without getting written up for things like untucking his shirt or kissing behind the gym.

He watched you weave your way through the masses of students and parents, all happily chattering and checking out the different offers from the stands at the school festival. And making up his mind, he went after you.

He found you in an empty classroom, carefully putting some kind of announcement on the blackboard, your hand steady, writing neat and precise.

“Can I talk to you for a moment, y/n-chan?”

He heard you sigh before turning to him.

“What is it?”

He stepped in, closing the door behind him to mute the distant voices of students hurrying through the corridors.

Leaning against the only exit, arms crossed in front of his chest, he said, “I wasn’t kidding, you know. About taking you on a date.”

You made some kind of sound that was probably supposed to be a scathing one but instead came out as a squeaky sort of cough. Pushing off the door he swaggered over to you until he was standing right behind you. You hadn’t looked at him yet.

“Hm? Y/n? What do you say? Wanna go on a date with me?”

His voice was low and sweet - he knew this particular tone usually made his girlfriends melt and he was glad to see that it worked on you as well. He extended a hand to half trap you between him and the blackboard for good measure. Goosebumps formed on your neck and when you finally turned around to him, there was a very distinct blush dusting your cheeks in stark contrast to your sour expression, the desperate attempt of returning his sweetness with disgust.

“Stop it, Oikawa-san.”

“Or what?” He leaned down to meet your eyes, leaving only two or three handwidths between your face and his. He could smell your shampoo. It was a pleasant scent, eucalyptus maybe.

When you didn’t say anything but the pink on your cheeks turned a deeper shade he leaned in further. He felt your shaky shallow breath on his skin.

When he didn’t budge, you closed your eyes and… seemed to wait.

Oikawa couldn’t help it and chuckled. Your eyes shot open and you watched as he lowered his head before throwing it back in full on laughter.

“I knew it! I knew it, y/n-chan.”, he sing-songed, not moving away, “Next time you write me up just-“

He was cut off but your lips on his. It was nothing more than a quick peck but it definitely shut him up.

You must have worn some kind of lip gloss or chapstick - the kiss left a faintly fruity taste behind.

He blinked. What was that?

And you were about to duck away when his free hand held you by your waist and he leaned in for a second kiss, catching you by surprise this time. It was again a sweet, innocent kind of kiss, only gently touching the other’s lips. When he moved away he searched your eyes for a moment and you held your breath when he went for a third. Closing his eyes, he really let himself get a feel and sense for you. The hand previously laid against the blackboard now cupped your cheek to draw you closer. He swiped his tongue against your lower lips and gently pushed into your mouth. He tasted the tangerine ramune that stood next to your notes on the teacher’s desk. This didn’t make any sense. It was not the tangerine that made him dizzy. You were… addictive. How?

Propelled by some unknown bravery your hands ran through his hair, drawing an involuntary hum from deep in his throat. His large hand on your waist squeezed and he moved in closer, needing to feel more. But before he could conduct further studies you pushed him away, panting slightly - your lips reddened and hair a little disheveled. He was too stunned to stop you when you weaseled out of his arms and ran out the door.

“Oikawa-san?”, he heard a familiar voice call from the corridor, “Oh, Oikawa-san, there you are. Do you want to come have some lunch with me?”

It was the girl from earlier. “Coming.”, he said quietly, absentmindedly and followed her, still tasting tangerines.

____________________________________________

a/n: thank you so so much for your request! This one got so away from me. I hope you enjoyed it tho 🌟

#sunnys school lunches #oikawa x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #oikawa x you #oikawa x reader #oikawa x y/n #oikawa fluff #hq oikawa #oikawa tōru #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa tooru #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x you #oikawa tooru x y/n

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brujamala-aka-gigi · 1 day

Text

Mid Week Energy Check

a pac reading made to provide insight into whats going on energetically around you or with you because sometimes it's not only about what you are responsible for, but also about the things that you cannot control yet influence your life.

pile 1. pile 2. pile 3.

images are from pinterest and dividers from @saradika-graphics

•☽────✧˖°˖Number 1 ˖°˖✧────☾•

Okay I see some drama, a lot of self indulgence and plenty of questionable economic decisions as a consequence. It seems like new beginnings are becoming more and more exciting, everything is new and shiny, there's no complaints so far, but I see some signs of a comedown from this high. Positivity might feel almost too forced and toxic, almost as if it's only there to hide and deceit you from more serious matters. There's nothing wrong with some excess on time to time I think, but don't get hooked on these feelings of intense and rapid happiness as in the long run, it won't serve your real purpose. Idealism at this moment seems to be more important than doing the actual work to pursue these ideals. Remain careful, as plenty of people who surround you are being lead to indulge in reckless behavior, not saying you shouldn't, just saying you should do it while being conscious of it. There will be a lot of talking, a lot of promises and many ideations of new ways to do the same, but don't get caught on that if you already see yourself deviating from your path. Expect some confrontational situations too, specially if you decide to call out anyone. This is a moment where your ability to find balance will be tested.

•☽────✧˖°˖Number 2 ˖°˖✧────☾•

You might feel like you have been left alone and betrayed, maybe by others or maybe by yourself. But more important than that, is the fact that your own personal power won't be affected for the long run. Don't allow the effects of someone's lack of morality and self esteem stain your own values and the way you perceive others. No need to get paranoid and look for who is going to backstab you either, they will show themselves pretty quickly by leaving your side if you tap in with a calmer approach to any insecurity you have. Don't focus on concealing your perceived weaknesses, focus on nurturing your strengths and showcasing them gracefully only when you know they are celebrated genuinely. Conflict could be inescapable some times, don't take it as something that should be solved by the conventionally aggressive ways, but more so as an opportunity to take assertive and strategic approaches when possible. If you are forced to be in situations where it seems impossible to keep it together and remain calm, don't be afraid to walk away and handle it whenever your mind is clear, as it's likely people might be waiting for you to loose your cool or testing your patience.

•☽────✧˖°˖Number 3 ˖°˖✧────☾•

As depressing as things might seem right now, the chance to move forward into safety will be granted as long as you are open to the idea of asking for the help of others, and letting them help you. Loneliness sometimes could be more of a feeling than a fact, you might not be able to see who is there to actually help you and guide you towards building stronger foundations to be at peace with yourself. It is also quite normal and understandable to feel isolated during periods of change. There's plenty for you to do in order to find fulfilment, but you will have to get in touch with a more creative side of you in order to find people who will accompany new journeys of emotional and spiritual development. You are not the type of person who has an easy time asking for others to be compassionate, but this moment might be nice to begin having compassion for yourself, understanding that it's impossible to keep a streak of overachievement forever, and you are not disappointing anyone by being tired or ill. Let those who celebrate your success, take care of you when that same success has made you tired.

•☽────✧˖°˖ THE END ˖°˖✧────☾•

Hiii, its me, Gigi (the tarot reader).

I hope this PAC reading was useful. I'm still figuring out how to make the Post itself pretty but so far this looks kinda okay i guess.

I'm thinking about making a themed ask game sometime on this blog, most likely during the weekend because i do feel like reading tarots for other people again eventually. Last time i read tarots online it was on reddit but i was kinda doing that as a part time job.

ANYWAYS: I hope everyone is doing amazing this week or at least not doing too bad and working on getting better. I'm so thankful for all the notes on my other PAC readings <3 i genuinely was expecting to just end up rambling about tarot into the void of tumblr i guess, but this was a nice surprise <3

Much love, Gigi <3

(btw if you feel like following me I'm trying to post tarot related blogs and PACS as often as possible, for those who asked and I couldn't reply yet: I still don't know if I'm putting up a tarot services menu thing, but I'm sure I'll end up doing a tarot ask thing this weekend)

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silentmoths · 13 hours

Text

A lick and a promise

Its been *squints* Seven months since i cooked.

god damn its been seven whole ass months CRIES

Boothill got me so fkn good i cant even BEGIN to explain why he's such a comfort character for me ok he just IS.

Boothill x Reader (fem but it's really only mentioned in regards to anatomy.)

NSFW

Enemies to Lovers (kinda?), Smut, Hurt/comfort (kinda?), Oral sex, fingering, boothill is a gd kendoll (sorry boothill genatalia nation i just...wanted to write this like he was a ken doll LEAVE ME-)

7k words, NOT PROOFREAD

The first time you run into the Galaxy Ranger known as Boothill, you’re not sure what to make of him.

You were just an unsuspecting casualty, the pilot, nothing more. Flying ships for the IPC had to beat minimum wage, right? This was your first real gig with them, something a little more secure.

If you managed to make it off pier point without having a gun aimed at you that is.

A…cowboy. You’d heard about them, of course, but seeing one in this day and age was almost unheard of unless you travelled to planets far out in the west, ones untouched by the IPC and their ‘modernizations’.

Yet this cowboy also seemed to be touched by said modernizations, considering almost all of him was made of metal. Hell, all of him might be synthetic, nanotechnology was a terrifying thing, it could eat away the organic and replace it with the inorganic, mimicking skin and its blemishes, hair and all its different shades, like the curtain of black and white you see before you.

“Han’s where I can fudgin’ see em.” He warns quietly, pistol pointed directly between your eyes. You do as he asks, why wouldn’t you? You weren’t being paid enough to put your life on the line for…whatever the hell you were carrying, you didn’t know, the IPC didn’t enforce ledger-checks- You tell the cowboy as much when he asks.

“Yeah that tracks.” he mutters with a roll of his visible eye. “Lookit’ you, still wet behind the darned ears.”

“D-do I get a pardon i-if I told you it was my first day on the job?” you manage to squeak out, a terrible habit really, opening your mouth in times you should really stay silent…but the cowboy cracks a grin, a very sharp-toothed grin.

“Ah heck, really?” He chuckles, shaking his head as he spins his pistol in his hand and tucks it away into its holster. “Look I aint’ got no beef with ya. ya ‘ aint even wearin’ an IPC uniform-” “C-contract work.” You cut in with your explanation, only scolding yourself after the fact for, once again, interrupting the one with the gun. “The IPC really gettin that desperate, huh?” He snorts, his robotic fingers flexing as he himself goes to check the ledger, it was obvious he’d done this a few times…perhaps thats why the IPC had started hiring a third party, someone new for him to kill.

And yet he doesn’t kill you.

He ties you up, sure, but he’s not an entire ass about it, he even apologises when he pulls the rope a little too tight and you squint.

“S’a formality.” He mumbles as he ties the knot tight “y’understand.”

“I guess…Just…thanks for not killing me I guess, Mr.Cowboy.” You shrug, perhaps you were still in a little bit of shock, perhaps you were coping with humour and ‘funny’ comments…perhaps, inside, you wanted to cry because of course of all the times to be held at gunpoint it was your first day working for the IPC.

“Name’s Boothill.” He corrects. Boothill, huh? You’d read about that…some eons old name for gunslinging cowboys who should have been dead.

After you had been discovered, set free, and promptly fired, you decide to look up this ‘Boothill’ character; you find little other than his bounty…whoever he was, he kept himself pretty closed off…made sense for a galaxy ranger.

The second time you encounter Boothill, you’re working on a satellite array. It’s a shit job, it was freezing cold out here, and the welding masks given to you and your coworkers by your bosses were cheap, low quality, offering little protection from the welding torch and its bright, concentrated glare.

After your firing from pier point, no other freighting company was willing to take you on, and in a desperate attempt to get some damned food into your belly, you’d taken this job on some far out meteorite, repairing this shitty, run down satellite so the IPC could extend their reach further.

If the bosses had bothered to do a background check, they would have seen the unfortunate mark next to your name.

’Banned from all positions within IPC jurisdiction’

But considering the shit pay, shit hours, and shit accommodation? The old hand’s out here didn’t really care much for the ‘official’ rules; so long as you weren’t being actively hunted.

There was no sun out here, so every few hours there was a mandatory UV break, in which you all got to return to the little sleeping pods that were nothing but glorified transport containers with a wall sectioning off one third to make a bathroom; just to sit beneath a UV bulb.

Whoever had lived in this one before you had stuck up a picture of a beach on the wall you had to stare at beneath the lamp, and faintly, you wonder if they ever made it there- or had they just keeled over dead from overwork? That seemed more likely, considering nothing had been cleaned out of your pod when you’d arrived.

As you bask in your shitty, simulated sun, an explosion wracks the entire facility, sending you toppling to the floor as the world spins, cracks apart, opens like the gnashing teeth of some horrific space creature.

Was it a space creature? Had the meteorite collided with something it shouldn’t have? You didn’t want to find out, but you sure as fuck weren’t about to stay here and probably die once the oxygen field around the place sputtered out. The emergency guide tape’s you’d been forced to watch are nothing to help against the real thing, a real emergency. There are sirens blaring, the stark white light’s had all died, replaced by that infuriatingly anxiety inducing red as you struggle to put your space suit on.

Just make it to a shuttle, they weren’t far, thats all you had to do.

It’s a mantra you tell yourself as the ceiling above you begins to crack and crumble, your time here was up.

As you wrench open the door to your pod, you collide with someone. Considering you yourself looked like a glorified marshmallow in the emergency suit, you certainly weren't expecting the person you collided with to be as…hard as they were, solid like steel to the point you’re sent toppling back and unceremoniously onto your back, like a turtle.

A familiar pistol is pointed at your helmet.

No fucking way.

Boothill stands there, grin on his face and a gun in yours as he looks you up and down before howling with laughter. “Now what in the hay is that?” he wheezes as you struggle, only to stop when you push the visor of your helmet up, revealing a face he recalls. “No fudgin’ way-”

“You again!” You screech, flailing your limbs as you attempt to stand in this…ungainly suit. “What the fuck are you doing here now!?”

“I could ask you the same mother forkin’ question!” He barks back, yet despite it all, he withdraws the pistol and even shows some mercy, reaching down to pull you back onto your feet “the fork you doin here?”

“Well, someone got me fired from my last job!” you snark at him “and now it looks like I'm out of another, what did you do!?” “Blew up tha’ satellite!” He chuckles as if he’d just won at an arcade game and not caused millions of credits in damages. You open your mouth to…you don’t even know- Shout? Scold a wanted criminal? Beg for mercy? When the world tilts again, the sound of rock cracking and metal creaking fills your senses; resulting in you simply screaming out of fear.

This was it, this was where you died. On a rock, in the middle of space, blown to smithereens by a cowboy. Except, the cowboy reaches down, and for a moment you think he’s going to kill you, just to stop the screaming. Instead, he grabs your arm and yanks you upright without a word, tugging you along behind him like you weighed nothing in this stupid marshmallow safety suit. (perhaps, to a cyborg, you didn’t weigh anything.)

Boothill cares little for the smoke and the flames, and you are just a leaf in his wind, guided through it all with scary precision until there is suddenly nothing and you realise what he’d just done.

This fucking cowboy galaxy ranger had just leaped off of the edge of the meteorite, dragging you along with him.

Correction; this is how you die, once you left the gravitational field, you’d just be stuck…floating in the void of space forever…no one would ever find your body-

Before your thought can finish, you crash into something hard, a ship, you realise, you had fallen into the open loading hatch of a ship, unlike boothill who landed on his feet, you’re simply a pile on the floor.

You hear the cowboy laugh as he turns to look at you, and you thank the fact that you’re face down from keeping your likely red, teary face from his scrutiny.

“Y’alright down there?” He asks.

“Peachy.” you mutter back, your muscles ached, but the adrenaline was already beginning to wane, suddenly the suit felt…heavy, impossibly heavy as you listen to the sound of the ship’s hatch closing. “Why’d you save me?”

Boothill thinks on it for a moment. Why had he saved you? It wasn’t really his M.O, saving people, especially when they worked for the IPC…he supposes a part of him felt a little bad… you hadn’t been working for them directly last time…and because of his stunt, you’d lost that job and had resorted to working for them in this backwater shithole of an array.

“Eh, Y’aint worth killin.” he responds after a moment “S’not like you’re the mother fudger I’m looking for anyways.”

Something about the way he says it…stings. Not worth killing?

Slowly you sit up, a terribly ungraceful affair in this stupid space suit as you pull the helmet off entirely and toss it to the floor, there was no point hiding the tears anymore.

“Wh- hey now! What’s got in yer’ boot?” Boothill balks at your teary face “what’s tha’ matter?”

You hate how stupid you must look, crying, red in the face…embarrassing really. But after the scare you’d just had, you don’t have the forwithall to keep your composure anymore.

“Whats the matter?” you mutter, staring at the cold, metal floor of the ship “what’s the matter is that you have single handedly managed to lose me not one, but TWO JOBS!”

You don’t mean to shout, really, you should be thanking him for saving your life.

“I’m BANNED from working for the IPC!” you cry “I wasn’t even meant to be working here! But where else am I meant to go!? EVERY job is somehow overseen by some division of the IPC, I can’t work anywhere else! Now you say I’m not even worth killing!?”

Boothill stares, the gears turning as he simply takes the emotional vitriol thrown his way. It had been…a long time since he’d found himself faced with this kind of problem.

“Aw shirt…” he mutters, realising his words had only worsened the situation. He takes a knee, pulling his hat off as he watches, he sees the way you’re shaking, your fingers flexing; he might be ‘old fashioned’, but he could recognize a panic attack. “C’mere, let's get this great forkin marshmallow suit off ya.”

You don’t even have the faculties to push him away as cold, robotic fingers begin tugging away at the velcro, the zippers and the straps. Breathing was getting harder, everything ached. Only once the galaxy ranger had pulled you free of the confines of that damned suit could you expand your chest properly. Too small, you realised, the suit you’d been given was way too small.

“Easy, easy, easy.” Boothill mutters as he sits you down “jus’ breathe.”

Easy for him to say, did a cybernetic cowboy even need to breathe?

He could see the struggle, but what the hell was he meant to do about it? It wasn’t wrong..the IPC had their fingers in so many pies… finding a job untouched by them? That’s like finding a needle in a haystack.

It wasn’t often Boothill felt…guilty. But somehow…you’d managed it.

“Aw c’mon, don’t gimme the waterworks.” he sighs “Look…ah’ll admit I forked up your job prospects, I’ll fudgin’ take that responsibility… will ya at least lemme see if I can help?”

“What can you do!?” You cry at him “If the IPC catches wind that I’ve somehow been caught up with you again-”

“Lemme take ya to a planet the IPC don’t care ‘bout.” He cuts in suddenly, an idea forming in his mind. “Been there plenty, they’re good folk, they’ll help ya.. Ya just…gotta trust me.” A planet untouched by the IPC? That seemed like a pipe dream…

“Impossible.” you mutter “any planet the IPC finds, it conquers.”

Boothill grins, that same toothy grin you remember from your first encounter with him. “I know, right? But this one? This one’s special.”

Eyama II was a small planet with little in the way of resources the IPC wanted or needed, a dwarf planet no less, nothing but a speck of dust floating through their air filters. It was a self-sufficient, homely type place…if he was being honest with himself, it’s where he would want to retire if he ever saw his goal through…living the simple life he used to know before the IPC had ripped it from him.

He knows it’s not the most…elegant solution, but he knew some fine folk there, some fine folk who might just be willing to help the poor outcast he’d created. -

It’s a long trip. It had to be if it was out of the IPC’s gaze…but that did mean a long trip with Boothill.

In a tiny two person at most ship.

You didn’t really know what to expect, if he’d just tie you up and put you in the corner…but as it turns out…he’s somewhat hospitable… ok more than somewhat.

After you’d calmed enough to be reasoned with, he’d handed you a bottle of nondescript nature. Without much thinking, you’d taken a swig, eyes widening at the distinctly alcoholic taste. It wasn't anything strong like whiskey, but it was enough of a shock.

“Malt juice.” He clarifies as he takes a seat at the helm, setting the warp drive “figured it’d help calm ya nerves.” You blink down at the bottle before slowly taking another, more temperate sip.

It…wasn’t bad…actually it was pretty good. It burned your throat just enough to keep you in the present.

You both talk…small things, you ask him how he knew of this planet, and tells you about all the planets he’d visited that weren’t under the IPC’s thumb, how all of them were nice, simple places.

He tells you that he thinks you’d like Eymaya II, he thinks everyone would like Eymaya II. It had rolling hills and green valley’s. The people were mostly farmers, ranchers, common folk just going through the motions to get by, but not in the same nihilistic sort of way most did. Good, honest living, as he says.

Part of you wonders if there ever was a time this ranger worked a good honest life, if this whole…cowboy thing was a facade, or if it was real, remnants of a past he couldn’t return to. You’re not sure if it’s his conversation, the malt juice, or both, but you eventually begin to open up, about your home life, about your terrible habit of cutting into conversations when you were nervous, all of it.

And when you begin to fall asleep? Your head nodding slowly where you sat, you feel a cold, metal hand rest on your shoulder.

“C’mon, you need ta’ rest.” He tells you, guiding you to the cot that looked seldom, if at all used.

For a wanted criminal who had put you out of two jobs and nearly killed you both times…he was surprisingly kind.

He wasn’t wrong about this planet. It was beautiful, the air was fresher than you could ever recall, living in the city.

Apparently, the look on your face says as much. Boothill chuckles, tilting his head softly as he watches you take it all in. “Told ya ye’d like it.” He hums, something in his mechanical chest whirring with..pride perhaps? Satisfaction? He wasn’t entirely sure, but seeing a face that, so far, all he’d seen from was fear and upset finally show…wonder…it felt good. He wanted to see it more, perhaps even a smile one day.

He takes you to the inn, sets you up with Jodie, an elderly woman who had been around the block quite a few times, she didn’t put up with Boothill’s antics, more like…a curmudgeonly aunt at first as she barks at him for not calling in sooner, only for it all to melt away into an almost familial warmth as the cowboy explains himself, explains you.

“now child I know you did not lose this poor thing not one but TWO jobs!” She scolds, hands on her hips.

There is a lick of satisfaction as you watch boothill shrink beneath the innkeeper’s rage.

“Donchu’ worry hon, we’ll getcha set up here, somewhere this block for brains can’t accidentally getchu fired. Only thing that’ll do that around here is laziness…you aint lazy, are you?” she asks, turning to you and squinting her beady, aged eyes at you, making you stiffen up as well.

“N-no ma'am!” you bark instantly “I-I promise to work hard and earn my keep!”

This atleast, seems to settle her some, and before you know it, you have a hot meal and an ice cold drink in front of you, and you want to cry again.

You actually feel…somewhat sad when boothill has to leave…anxiety twisting in your gut… would you really be okay here? Would you survive?

But he pats you on the shoulder and grins, and something about it is…comforting.

Something about it made you want to try.

It’s five years until you see Boothill again.

Jodie had grown too old to continue running the inn, and somehow, against all odds, it was you who had taken over. The entire place was yours, and you were happy.

Not a day goes by where you don’t wonder how you ended up here, but then you recall, the enigmatic cyborg cowboy who had hijacked your ship, and then blown up a satellite array.

Somehow, your outlook on him had turned from disdain to…a strange sort of affection. The frigid anger had melted away, and what replaced it was a sense of…thankfullnes for what he’d done for you. Working here, away from the almost all-encompassing reach of the IPC had opened your eyes to just how…corporate everything felt, and how it so desperately wasn't you.

It’s a late evening, you’re closing up for the night, the bar had emptied of all it’s usual late-staying regulars, and those who had rooms rented for the evening had already retired.

You’re polishing a few glasses when the door swings open.

“Well now, there’s a face I ain’t seen in a forkin long time.”

The voice is familiar, and has you turning, a small smile tugging at your lip. A mixture of feelings racing through your chest.

“Well well, come to let me collect your bounty, Sir?” you snicker, placing the glass you’d just polished beneath the malt juice tap to pour him a glass.

Boothill laughs, sauntering in with the swagger you remember as he drops into the stool closest to you. “How’ve you been, Boothill?” you ask him, setting the glass in front of him and waving away his credits. You owed him one drink, atleast, “what’ve you been up to?”

The galaxy ranger snorts, throwing some of his long hair over his shoulder “How long ya’ got there, sweetheart? S’gonna be a long story.”

“I own the place now, and we’re closed, so all the time in the world.” you hum, deciding to pour yourself a glass as well after locking the door. “Shoot, really? What happened to ol’ jodie?” He asks, voice tinged with legitimate concern as you drop into the barstool beside him.

“She’s fine, she’s fine..just old is all.” You assure him, finding a little comfort in the relief that washes over his features.

“Ah, fork don't scare a guy like that.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair “thought Jodie had up n’ left us.”

“Nah, she’s got a while on her yet.” you snort, taking a sip of your drink.

The conversations run long into the night, catching up, listening to the thing’s he’d done, places he’d seen…IPC operations he’d torn apart at the seams. He listens to you too, as you tell him about how things have been here, catching him up on anyone he asked about. It was like talking to an old friend. You weren't sure…what boothill was to you…a friend? An acquaintance? It was…complicated.

More malt juice enters your systems, you ask if it actually has an affect on him.

“You know…being a cyborg and all..” you mumble, feeling a distinct warm dusting to your cheeks as the malt settles.

Instead of responding with words, the galaxy ranger reaches out and takes your hand into his. He feels…

Warm.

“You tell me, darlin.” He chuckles after a moment, watching you though half-lidded eyes. You barely even notice, more curious about how the alcohol affected him. Without even thinking, you run your fingers along his exposed arm; you weren’t going crazy, he was warm, almost humanly so.

Your fingers continue to wander without much thought until they brush along his jawline; the sudden transition from steel to skin is what finally snaps you out of your own thoughts, pulling back with a squeak.

“O-Oh aeons I’m sorry!” you fluster at his face, his eyes are wide and his mouth slightly ajar. “I-I got carried away I’m-”

His hand reaches out again, clasping yours and pulling it back towards his face as he rests his cheek into your palm.

“Don't.” He murmurs, softly, softer than you’d heard him before. “Keep goin…please.”

A realisation settles across your mind.

“You…you can’t feel most touch…can you?”

He doesn't look you in the eye, but he does sigh, only burying closer to your warm palm, worn after years of working hard…but still human.

“S’not that I can’t feel…I can…but..s’mtimes it’s so forkin dull I might as well not…but..my face is…”

“One of the few places you can feel.” You finish the sentence for him, feeling a pang of sympathy. You didn’t know how long Boothill had been like this, but you could wager long enough that he was more desperate for a kind touch than he probably even realised.

“Yeh…” he mutters, his lips turning down into a frown “sorry…ah know it’s probably-”

“Shut up.” you mutter, turning to face him fully, your other hand coming to rest on the other cheek as you watch this man, this gunslinging galaxy ranger, falter. His eyes widen before he shuts them entirely, leaning into it, starved of this type of affection.

“F’ya don’t stop this bullshirt m’gonna think you might have some feelin’s for me, darlin’..”

You didn’t know if thats what it was…but you didn’t want to stop either, a part of you wanting to sate you own selfish curiosity…another part wanting to do this for him.

“It must be a lonely existence, living like you do.” the murmur leaves your lips before you even notice you’d spoken out loud, thumbs stroking over his cheek bones. Boothill stares at you in silence for a long moment, his gaze calculating, probing.

“I thought ya’ hated my forkin guts…” He mutters.

“Perhaps once, for a little bit, I did.” You admit “But then you brought me here, and I’ve never been happier..”

A beat passes, then another, and another. Boothill stares at you, the feel of your hands on his face something he wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

And then he leans forward, lips crash together and the taste of Malt juice and perhaps a little bit of oil is on your tongue.

You don’t pull back, if anything, you lean into it shamelessly.

Robotic hands grip your waist as your own finally shift from his face to wrap around his shoulders. At some point his hat goes flying off elsewhere, but neither of you care; too strung tight, too wound up to care.

His teeth are as sharp as they look, but he’s careful with them as he nips at your bottom lip, swiping his tongue over the little beat of blood he manages to draw.

“Shirt-” He mutters against your lips, his eyes shut tight, you can hear his inner mechanics whirring, like a mechanical heart about to rabbit from his chest “fudge, if you don’t stop me now darlin I’m gonna keep taking-”

“Then take.” you mutter back at him, tangling your hands into his surprisingly silky hair and yanking. “Take what you want.”

“Oh trust me, I would but..” Boothill’s growl trails off, and for a moment he looks…embarrassed. You can’t for the life of you figure out why until he steps closer, your knee brushing between his legs- oh.

“Flat as a forkin’ brass tack.” he mumbles.

You’re not sure why, it might just be the curse of your horrible humour, but your attempt at not giggling only sets you off into laughter that you attempt to muffle into his shoulder.

“Ey, watchu laughin at?” you expect boothill to be…mad at your outburst, but you can hear the amusement in his voice, feel the tremble of his own laughter “t’aint funny.”

“It kinda is.” you snicker out, pulling back to look him in the face. He looks a little sheepish, but thankfully, mostly just amused. “It’s okay…we’ll figure something out..”

His toothy grin settles back into a dangerous little smirk as the moment passes again, the kind of smirk that makes your belly twist a little. “Oh yeah, I got some other tricks up my sleeves.”

Without much more to say, you find yourself being lifted, thrown over the cowboy’s shoulder- as you open your mouth to say something, you’re interrupted with a harsh slap to your ass, resulting in nothing but a squeak.

“Where’s yer room?” He snickers as you glare at him.

You consider not telling him, being a brat, but the charming smile he returns to you is… yeah it does something stupid that goes right to your crotch.

“Upstairs…first door on the left.” you mutter, flustering at the way his grin widens.

If you didn’t know better you’d almost describe Boothill as practically skipping up the stairs, the angle for you however was a little trepidatious, and you find yourself clinging to him for a little more stability, right up until he carefully tosses you down onto the plush of your bed, landing with a soft thud.

He’s back on you, and your hands are back on him without him needing to ask; you can see the relief it brings, the way his eyelids flutter and his brow pinches as your fingers glide across his cheek, down his chest and along his arms, still warm, you note…

His lips return too, his own hands untucking your shirt just to get under it, metal fingers gliding over the smooth of your belly, up the your sides as he groans into your mouth. You wonder how much he can actually feel, if it was still dull, or if the alcohol had heightened his mechanical touch sensors somehow. You didn’t care, he looked happy, legitimately happy, like a dog being scratched behind the ears as you indulge him.

His lips move from yours and he begins to nip and taste elsewhere, his nose brushing against your own as he leans in, nuzzling at your cheek, nipping at your jaw, revelling in the little sounds of pleasure he pulls out of you, especially when his wandering hands wrap behind your back and find the clasp of your bra, it comes undone with a surprisingly expert tug and you moan softly at it.

(Who could blame you? You’d been wearing the damn thing all day.)

You wished there was something you could do for him, something to pleasure him like he was doing for you, but you forced yourself to be content with touching him, running your hands through his hair, scratching at his scalp and tugging at the soft strands; running your thumbs over his cheeks, tracing the shells of his ears.

Boothill however, seemed just as hellbent on touching you, but he had far more room to move, to explore, to play.

Metal thumbs find your nipples, embarrassingly hard and sensitive after being trapped in the confines of your bra all day, and you moan as he rolls them both, back and forth in a slow, methodical rhythm that leaves your breath light, and your stomach twisting in knots.

Pointed teeth find your throat, nibbling and worshipping every inch of skin they could catch. You’d have to wear a scarf tomorrow if he kept that up, lest the regulars at the bar notice the strange bruising… but you don’t stop him; you were all in on…whatever this was now.

A metal hand pulls away long enough to pop the buttons on your shirt, leaving the plane of your torso open and exposed to his gaze, nothing short of hungry as he stares down at you.

“Fudge…” he mutters, his voice husky “That’s a nice view…”

“Tease.” you huff.

“Tease? Oh ah’ll show you tease.” He snickers, his mouth returning to your skin, working lower, biting at the junction of neck and shoulder, nibbling along your collarbone before the cowboy shifts further, his tongue darting out to lap at one nipple whilst a hand works the other.

You gasp and moan, a hand quickly coming to muffle your cries, cheeks alight with embarrassment at the sudden outburst. Boothill only chuckles, his eyes trained to your face as he lays, settling between your legs as he rests atop you to continue his work, but at least he doesnt pull your hand away, too engrossed on what he could feel opposed to what he could see and hear.

He switches breasts while his free hand trails down, over the soft plane of your belly and to your belt, unbuckling it with ease and sending the strap of leather flying across the room before those fingers return, popping the button of your work jeans and dragging the fly down. You groan softly in appreciation at the relief it brings, only to feel those metal fingers working the waistband down.

Just what was he planning? you wonder internally as he gives your nipple one last, harsh suck before releasing it, making you keen beneath your hand.

“Feelin good, darlin?” he whispers. He sure sounded like he was feeling good as he nuzzles against your skin, nipping at your stomach and trailing lower, hands gripping at your jeans, pulling them and your underwear away in one swoop, leaving you open, exposed, and embarrassingly wet. “Y’sure look it..” he adds with a low whistle “aint that a sight.”

“B-boothill-” You mumble, an attempt at closing your legs out of embarrassment only sandwiching his head betwixt your thighs. He grins at you; it’s such an endearingly handsome thing, it makes you feel like this wasn’t a first time thing between you both, like he knew you, like he was comfortable with you, which only added to the heat in your belly.

“Aw don’t go gettin all fudgin’ coy on me now.” he snickers “After all those drinks’ ya’ gave me downstairs, I’m still kinda thirsty.”

His metal hands part your measly human thighs with shameful ease as he leans in close; you squeal when you feel his hot tongue lave down your inner thigh, warm breath so achingly close to your cunt it was maddening.

But it seemed Boothill was just as desperate as you were, his mouth attaching to your cunt after only a moment, taking in your squeal as his teeth gently roll your clit, the added danger only serving to make you wetter.

“F-fuck! Boothill-!” you moan out, forsaking keeping yourself silent as your own hands scramble across the sheets, searching for something, anything to ground yourself as his tongue laps at your folds with fever; they eventually find and settle in his hair before giving it a tug.

Boothill groans, the sting is only arbitrary, but he loves it, he loves being able to feel something. The warm plush of your thighs around his ears, the heat of your cunt as he sucks on your clit, only made sweeter by your cries. He’d missed this, he’d missed this a lot..

“Y’aint seen nothin’ yet, darlin.” He growls low and loving against your thigh in the brief moment of reprieve he gives you. You stare down at him with hooded eyes,your knees already trembling from his vicious onslaught; he nips the soft, sensitive flesh of your thigh with a cheeky smirk, holding up a pair of fingers, watching your face as he slowly drags them through your wet folds, collecting your slick; you gulp. “Like a’ said, I got a few fun lil’ tricks up my sleeves.” His mouth returns, lapping and pulling you right back into the overwhelming, wonderful pleasure as a slick metal finger circles your entrance, slow, methodical, torturous. You nearly sob with relief when he finally presses the digit inside, the metal actually making it easier. He hums his approval at how easily his finger is sucked in, pumping it slowly in and out, in and out; taking things at his pace- perfect.

After a little while, you feel that finger beginning to probe, to prod and search for your G-spot, and before long he finds it, signalled by a loud gasp and a sharp tug at his hair, only pulling his mouth closer, his tongue working away at your clit like he wasn’t driving you absolutely mad with pleasure.

Once he’d found the spot, he retreats, slowly adding the second finger and beginning the cycle again, stretching you, filling you stupidly well; it was an absolute tragedy that he didn’t have a dick…at this point you were so stupidly horny, you would have climbed on top of him just for a chance to ride him.

(somewhere in the back of your mind, the saying ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’ reverberates)

As you’re right at the height, right at the edge, he suddenly stops, his fingers cease their movements and he pulls his head away, resting his chin on your naval as he stares up at you with such a stupidly loving look that it makes your heart twist; his chin was absolutely drenched in your slick, but he looked so very content.

But you weren’t.

“B-boothillllll-” you whimper, tugging at his hair again, why had he stopped!? Now of all times? You could feel his metal fingers pressed against your G-spot, but unmoving, they did little to pleasure you. You clench around them, but that too, yields little results.

“Sorry sweetheart, just wanted to see your face when I did it.” He chuckles, his smile twitching up in the corner.

“D-do whAT-” your question cuts off abruptly when the fingers inside you suddenly burst to life with vibrations, the strength of which you’d never experienced before. Your body coils and you nearly scream as he rams those fingers into your G-spot, stars exploding behind your eyes whilst pleasure cuts through your belly like glass.

“That.” He hums, satisfied as he returns that sinful mouth of his to your clit, adding another layer of pleasure. His fingers were harsh and rough, crooking into your G-spot one second, and then splaying out the next, dragging rough and harsh against your walls; his tongue however was soft, gentle, slowly and carefully rolling circles around your poor little nub. You were going to go crazy, he was going to drive you insane and you were absolutely letting him. Your body reacts on its own, thighs squeezing hard around his head, spine arched upward; your hips prevented from bucking thanks to one of his arms, wrapped solidly around your thigh and holding you down to the sheets, forcing you to lay there and take it.

You knew the walls here were decently soundproof, but even you began to question if they could muffle out your cries, made worse when Boothill suddenly sits up, pulling you up along with him, practically folding you in half as he continues to feast on your pussy like he hadn’t eaten in centuries, his vibrating fingers plunging somehow deeper.

At first you struggle for air with the new position, your knees almost at your chest, but then he switches the angle of his fingers and aeons-, you didn’t think it could get worse than this. But the pleasure this new angle brings, it’s new, its terrifying and you don’t quite know how to articulate that to the galaxy ranger causing it all. Your hands scramble clawing and tugging at any part of him you could get ahold of, his name falling from your lips along with incoherent babble, desperation and worry all balling into one feeling you couldn’t describe as he continues to piston those fingers into you, hitting your G-spot with such accuracy, the flame in your gut turning from a high heat to a near-volcanic overload as you jerk and struggle.

The final straw is when you crack open an eye, catching sight of him, staring back at you with such…love, such unbridled affection.

You scream his name as you cum, harder than you’ve ever cum in your life. Your faintly feel yourself make an absolute mess of his face, arms, your back and the sheets below you as your world turns white.

–

A soft, damp cloth carefully rubbing over your skin slowly pulls you back into reality, rousing you from the soft and gauzy subspace of post-orgasmic bliss. You try to shift, to sit up…to…something- but a hand carefully manoeuvres you to lay back down on a thankfully, dry patch of sheets.

“Easy, darlin’” Boothill’s familiar southern drawl hushes you down “Nearly done.”

You crack an eye to find him carefully cleaning you off with said damp towel. Methodical but careful. You’re trembling from the exertion, but boothill looks absolutely fine, the bastard.

In fact, he looks better than fine. A smile plastered on his stupid face as he works away, wiping sweat and other…fluids, off of you.

When he was done with that, he wraps you in a clean sheet and lifts you, sitting you down on the trunk at the end of your bed, just so he could change the set you’d obliterated with your unexpectedly rough orgasm. You sit there, watching him, half asleep and pleasantly dozy before he pulls you back into bed, pulling you into his side. A glass of water is pressed against your lips as he encourages a few sips into you.

You spend the night sleeping with him curled around you; the quiet whirr of his mechanical body providing a pleasing, soft white noise while hands stroke through your hair.

–

“Do you have to go so soon?” You ask as he reaches for his hat.

He’d been here a week, and it had been…for lack of a better word; wonderful.

But all good things had to come to an end you supposed. The look on his face was enough to tell you what you didn’t want to hear.

“I gotta. I ain’t done yet.” He tells you quietly, despite this, he holds out a hand, a silent request for you to walk with him…the inn and the bar would be fine for a little while.

“I’d ask ya t’come with me, but that’d be the biggest forkin mistake I could ever make.” the cowboy admits. He wanted you to, he’d never felt so content as he had in this week, but bringing you meant putting you in danger…aeons know he’d done that enough already.

“Will you…at least come and visit me?”

Boothill snorts as they meander their way towards his ship “O’course I will.”

“How often?”

“S’often as I forkin can.”

You both stop beside the ship, it had a few more dings and dents than you remember, but it was still in surprisingly good condition.

“Well…” you mumble “at least you know you’ll always have a room at the inn while I still run it.”

“Y’mean yer’ room?” He snickers. “I forkin hope you intend on running the place as long as possible, I pulled in a good favor from jodie to get ya yer’ start ‘ere.”

You smile at him. Boothill thanks every aeon in existence that his cybernetic eyes had a camera function, so he could save that face and look back on it when he was drifting through the universe.

Slowly, he pulls his hat from his head, holding it to his chest as he leans down to press his lips to yours, one last time for the road.

“I’ll be back as soon and as often as I forkin can…y’hear?” He murmurs, you nod; fighting away the sting behind your eyes as you step back.

“I hear…and…Boothill?” you ask as he turns around to step onto his ship, looking at you over his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

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currentfandomkick · 2 days

Text

Back-ish.

Took a bit to finish this as Work Hell and exhaustion (and editing for format ReasonsTM)

Enjoy, and let me know if there’s anything in particular you want explored next, and i’ll see if i can add it to the list for the drabbles (the characters hijack everything so no guarantees)

Masterpost Here

Contrary to popular belief, Skulker is good at his job.

He knows how to craft a perfect trap, how to hunt virtually every type of ghost, and has succeeded every time with enough persistence. The halfa was proving an excellent challenge and reminder that hunting took time and planning.

The issue was he also knew his prey was being hunted by another, and this one’s motives were unknown. This ectopus made it clear that it intends to drown the whelp in either form, and that. That annoyed Skulker.

He followed the rules of hunting. Do not go after pregnant entities, or those capable of during their respective spawning season(s). Only hunt what is permitted. Always release your prey if they are endangered, but you may take something to commemorate the event.

Skulker’s choice was the halfa’s first pelt. He’d grow a new one in a year or so, and it would give the halfa time to acclimate to the zone rather than guarding the portal and the whole of Amity so viciously.

But this Ectopus ignored the rules of engaging with the halfa—only treat Phantom and Fenton as the same person when the “ghost hunting”parents were not around. No need to put the child at risk long term.

Halfas were extinct in the realms far longer than most were certain of, a few reigns before Pariah at least. And Skulker was well aware most of the ghosts and Neverborn he interacted with were born well into the Age of Anarchy as Ghost Writer and the record keepers were so fond of calling it.

And it was only after Pariah’s ‘sleep’ began that the liminal population declined on the Living’s side. Apparently species like Sampson’s took quite the hit, most no longer existing. Sampson was one of two Purpler Back Gorillas alive.

Understandably, the liminal gorilla was frustrated. Non-liminals failed to comprehend ghost speak, their culture was almost dead due lack of population and they were treated more like a lab rat than a person.

That was before encountering the first liminal—admittedly halfas pushed the limits of liminality—she’d found existed besides herself. The whelp’s understanding of the language was basic, but he hasn’t had his first shedding yet nor did he seem to interact with other liminals often either.

Skulker was not idiotic enough to ignore the Whelp’s need for his ghost parent’s protection. It was the issue of getting Sampson around Amity to protect the whelp from this “Taco” ectopus that was an issue.

He made sure to bring a fruit basket from the Realms, and included a shedding from a birdlike entity.

Sampson snarled until he left the offering.

“I have news about your son. He is ill,” Skulker began.

Sampson growled ill???Howexplain

“Likely the overhunting from Taco the Ectopus, as the whelp calls them, but there may be other causes. He’s rather old now to not have undergone his first shedding—don’t look at me like that we both know he is—and is experiencing soul form regression. there are those in the Realms who can help.”

Sampson beat her chest. yesHelphow?

“We need to bring him to Realm’s doctors. He may need to reside in his haunt, or require treatment of a number of things. I am not certain, but this Taco may require independent capture and containment. The doctors will know better,” Skulker admitted.

goNOW

“… yes we can go once we have the whelp—does his core have a particular sensation attached to it?”

ColdbigHugemoving

“I’ll let the doctors know when we arrive. Do you want to bring him in his small form, or one of his usual two?”

smallEasycarry

“He should be headed to the aquarium tonight, shall I set up the blob ghost perimeter?” It was the easiest way to monitor one’s prey and lire away competition… and confirm whether or not this “Taco” is targeting the whelp personally or as an ecto source.

He’s hoping the latter, but has a sinking feeling it will be the former. And he will have to hide the stupid finned brat in his prosthetic…

He should see if his girlfriend or her friends don’t mind helping him distract the intruder from the whelp.

Johnny and Kitty are rather fond of their ex. And Ember is insistent on setting up more playdates between her frightmate Youngblood and the whelp. Something about them being ‘same font different hat’ that he didn’t quite get. Oh well, if it didn’t involve animals, weapons, tactics or hunting he rarely gave it much thought in life, let alone his afterlife.

With Sampson’s (terrifying) blessing, Skulker got to work.

Masterpost Here

Tags: @skulld3mort-1fan @theizzyof3malec3 @brattysleepyreader @sebas-nights @elidaweirdotaku0520 @bianca-hooks123 @the-autistic-spider @laurcad123 @just-lurking-here-dont-mind-meh @atinygracie @stars-obsession-pit @wanderwithwings @aibhilin-atibeka

#topo is a menace #dpxdc #long post #danny phantom #skulker #mer!danny #mer!au #reincarnated danny

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ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral · 2 days

Text

It's time for today's Merlin au! This time featuring some Mergwenthur (mostly focused on Merthur today though, but I have some more prompts planned for Mergwenthur because I love their dynamic!) and Arthur's emotional trauma from growing up under Uther!

Also, the option that won the poll will be the post after this one!

I just want to say that this au idea is so random that I'm pretty sure it came to me in a fever dream, so bon appétit my friends! :D

In this au, set in season 5, a sorcerer working for Morgana sneaks into the castle and creates three dolls: one of Arthur, one of Gwen, and one of Merlin. We see in the show that puppets and dolls with a likeness to their target can be used in dark rituals, and that's what this sorcerer plans to do.

However, Camelot's guards manage to catch and apprehend the sorcerer (whose powers just mysteriously failed them when the guards attacked, and no one sees Merlin loitering in the servants' hallway nearby) before the sorcerer could bind the doll of Arthur to the king. So, the small dolls of Gwen and Merlin are bound to them, but Arthur's isn't.

After the sorcerer has been locked up, Arthur discovers the dolls in the sorcerer's belongings and has Gaius take a look at them. Gaius tells him that they can go ahead and destroy the doll of Arthur since it isn't bound to anyone, but they'll need to wait to destroy Gwen and Merlin's dolls, since they had already been bound with magic and now any damage done to the dolls would be done to either of them.

Arthur is, rightfully, horrified by this and, as gently as he could, placed the two dolls in a secret compartment hidden in a wall of his room. He locks the two dolls away, feeling relief that no magical harm could come to the two most important people in his life.

Meanwhile, Gaius tells Merlin and Gwen about the dolls and their temporary solution to lock them away. Merlin's kicking himself for not being able to stop the sorcerer sooner, but he soon gets to work helping Gaius look for a spell to break the bond between them and the dolls.

However, as the days go on and no solution comes up, the whole doll situation falls on the backburner as more magical situations happen that demand Gaius and Merlin's immediate attention, leaving the whole doll mess to fall to the wayside. They'd find a solution eventually, they reasoned, and their temporary solution of locking them away had worked perfectly so far, so they should focus on the more pressing matters at hand.

However, Arthur couldn't seem to quite get the dolls out of his head. The cursed objects that could take away the two most important people in his life were just sitting there! Arthur's fears about the dolls ran wild, so Arthur asked Gaius for information on those types of dolls. After all, they could more easily take precautions around the dolls if they knew more about them.

Gaius directs Arthur to a certain book in Geoffrey's library that he knew had several chapters dedicated to the magic dolls and their potential uses. Arthur thanked Gaius and, that night, dedicated himself to reading all about the dolls so he could better protect his loved ones.

Most of what Arthur read disgusted and terrified him, reading about horrifying methods of torture and execution using the dolls, which would transfer every sensation and emotion directed at them onto the person they were bound to. Eventually though, Arthur came to a shorter chapter about the positive uses of the dolls. He read about druids who had taken vows of silence using the dolls to convey their affections for their loved ones, and even powerful sorcerers using similar dolls to comfort their far-away families.

As much as Arthur tried to shove that idea violently from his mind, it became fixed in his thoughts like a fly in a spiderweb. A way for someone else to feel the full depths of his love without having to use words?

Arthur, for all of his faults, knew himself. He knew that he was not the best at conveying his emotions. Words, no matter how long he thought over them, always felt like pale reflections of the enormity of his emotions, especially in regards to his love for Gwen and Merlin. With Gwen, he often stumbled over his words, unsure of how to express the depths of his love for her, even three years into marriage. With Merlin, on the other hand, any of his attempts at affection inevitably devolved into banter and friendly name-calling, never being able to truly tell Merlin how much he meant to Arthur.

Could these dolls be the solution? Could he somehow use them to convey his feelings for his beloved Gwen and Merlin? Arthur found his eyes frequently drifting towards the secret compartment where he knew the dolls lay. Could he...

Eventually, the temptation became so strong that Arthur couldn't resist anymore. Surely, if he was gentle and careful, then everything would be fine, right? Either Merlin and Gwen would be able to feel Arthur love through the little dolls, or nothing would happen and Arthur would go about his day only slightly disappointed.

With his mind made up, Arthur checked the lock on his chamber's door to ensure that he would be alone, and made his way over to the secret compartment in his wall, unlocking it. Sitting inside, exactly where he left them, were the dolls of Merlin and Gwen.

Arthur quickly darted over to his window, where had a clear view of Merlin talking with Gwaine in the courtyard. If anything happened to Merlin because of the doll, he would know right away, and he could reassure himself that this little experiment of his wasn't doing any harm.

They were both small, with his hand being able to cover the entirety of either doll with the exception of its head. As carefully as Arthur could, he pulled each doll out of the wall and set them down gently on his desk, making sure to cushion the back of their heads as he set them down.

It wasn't until Arthur saw staring down at the dolls did he realize that the book never specified exactly how emotions were transferred. Sensations were easy enough, but it never said how to convey emotions themselves.

Well, Arthur reasoned with himself, it couldn't be that difficult. He gently picked up the doll that resembled Merlin (it even had a little jacket and a red scarf on it and everything) and held it in front of him. Arthur took a few moments to contemplate his next move, before landing on an acceptable strategy.

Willfully ignoring the voice in his head (which sounded remarkably similar to his father) that was berating Arthur for seeking comfort from these dolls like a little girl, Arthur brought the Merlin doll close to his chest and held it there, trying his best to simulate a hug. There, that was a good start!

Moving back over to the window, Arthur was relieved to see Merlin unharmed and still speaking with Gwaine with a large smile on his face, not showing any signs of pain or discomfort.

Emboldened and relieved with the knowledge that he wasn't causing any harm, Arthur next had to figure out if he was really sending his feeling through the doll, or if this was just a huge waste of Arthur's time.

Keeping his eyes trained on Merlin, Arthur brought the doll up to his face and pressed a gentle kiss onto its forehead. To his amazement, right as he had kissed the doll, Merlin suddenly stopped speaking looked rather confused, touching a hand to his forehead, as if trying to check to see if anything was there, while a blush rose on his cheeks.

Arthur could feel a huge grin break out on his face. It had worked! Merlin had felt the affection he had shown to the doll!

Arthur, cuddling the Merlin doll: Get cherished idiot! Get absolutely adored!

Merlin, wondering why the hell he feels someone hugging him: Huh, that's weird.

Over the course of the next week, Arthur experimented with different ways to convey his emotions to Gwen and Merlin through the dolls. He found that holding the dolls close and speaking to them, spilling out all of the words that he was so clumsy with when he was with Gwen or Merlin, worked the most effectively. However, just holding, cuddling, or kissing the dolls had much of the same effect.

Arthur could even see the different it made with Gwen and Merlin! Even though Arthur was too embarrassed to tell them about how he had taken to trying to express his feelings through the dolls, he could tell that both of them were happier and more affectionate with him!

Oh, it was all working out perfectly! Arthur could finally honestly express his love to Merlin and Gwen to its fullest extent, and they were happier in return (even if they didn't quite know why)!

And it was all well and good, up until Merlin was injured. Not by the doll, thank god, because Arthur would never forgive himself if something like that happened. No, it was during a routine hunt through the darkling woods, which of course had to be ruined by bandits.

Arthur had thought nothing of it at first, as it was a smaller and untrained group, but horror gripped him near the end of the fight as he turned around to see Merlin, coming out of hiding and totally unaware of the bandit's crossbow aimed at him. Arthur tries shouting for Merlin to move out of the way, but he's too late. Between one heartbeat and the next, there's suddenly a crossbow bolt sticking out of Merlin's back.

Arthur makes quick work of the four bandits standing between him and Merlin, and frantically starts trying to treat and bandage the wound on Merlin's back. The wound is deep, Arthur's panicking, and Merlin's already passed out. Luckily, the knight quickly finished off the rest of the bandits, and they ride as swiftly as they could back to Camelot so Merlin could be treated by Gaius.

Luckily, they were able to get Merlin to Gaius before Merlin lost too much blood or the wound became infected, so Gaius was able to treat Merlin's wound and give him a good prognosis. However, much to everyone's concern, Merlin still hadn't woken up, and Gaius couldn't guarantee when Merlin would wake up or fully recover.

While Gwen stayed by Merlin's side all night, Arthur couldn't bear the sight of Merlin, looking still and broken on a patient's cot. Perhaps that made Arthur weak, but he couldn't ever bear to see his loved ones in pain, knowing that there was nothing he could do to help.

Or... perhaps... there was something he could do to help. Merlin likely couldn't hear what was going on around him, but if he could feel it instead...

Arthur took Merlin's doll from its secret compartment as gently as his desperation would allow. Arthur was pretty sure that there were tears running down his face, but he couldn't bring himself to care about that at the moment.

With trembling hands, Arthur carefully held the doll to his chest, right over his heart. Arthur tries everything he can, from kissing the doll to just speaking to it, telling the little scrap of cloth and magic all of the things he adores about Merlin and how he cannot cope with the thought of losing him.

Everyone is relieved the next day when Merlin wakes up, still weak from his injury, but recovering nonetheless. But man, Merlin had some weird dreams while he was unconscious. He dreamed Arthur was a giant and was hugging him! Merlin tried to play it off for laughs to lighten the mood when Arthur visited him, but Arthur didn't seem to find it nearly as funny as Merlin and Gwen did. Instead, Arthur turned slightly pale at Merlin's words.

After Arthur left, Merlin and Gwen turn to each other and discuss why they think Arthur had reacted like that. They both agree that Arthur had been acting differently lately, but if anything, it was an improvement. Arthur had been more open to both giving and receiving affection with them, and he had been more open with sharing his emotions lately, being overall less of a complete prat.

So, this sudden closed off response was rather suspicious to both of them. After some discussion, they agree to search for an explanation for Arthur's strange shift in behavior. After some snooping around and looking between the gaps on the door to he servant's entrance to Arthur chambers, Merlin and Gwen saw something truly shocking.

Arthur had been removing the dolls that were bound to them to their hiding spot! Did he know how dangerous that was for the both of them! What was he even planning on doing with them?!

Many of their questions were answered, however, when Arthur started pressing kisses to the top of both doll's heads, and both Gwen and Merlin could feel the sensation of the kiss touching their heads. Oh. So that's what the whole doll situation was about, and why both of them were having sudden and unexplainable sensations and bursts of positive emotion.

It made a shocking amount of sense, especially considering how frustrated they knew Arthur could get at his lack of skills in communicating his feelings. Merlin and Gwen turned to each other, and decided to not confront Arthur about this just yet. They could let Arthur have this, and he'd tell them when he was ready.

For now, Arthur would have his peace.

And that's a wrap for this au! Honestly, this au idea was so unique that I don't even know where it came from, but there's a lot of different ways this au could go! One of my favorite ideas is that any injury the person gets is also reflected on the doll, so after Merlin or Gwen goes missing, Arthur obsessively checks the dolls to see if they're unhurt.

Anyways, I've got the au idea that won the poll (an au idea featuring Arthur being an idiot) planned for tomorrow or the next day, so I hope to see you all again soon!

And, as always, thank you for reading though my ramblings! :D

#merlin #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin bbc #merlin au #merlin prompts #merthur #mergwen #arwen #mergwenthur

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justaparsec94 · 1 day

Text

Company

Summary: You're put in charge of keeping an eye on Tech while he's recovering from his broken leg. The job turns out to be not at all what you were expecting.

Pairing: Tech x Reader

Word Count: 4,941

Author's Note: I've had this posted on my AO3 account for a while but I just had so much fun writing it that I thought I would share it here too!

***************

“I still like mantell mix the best,” Omega said thoughtfully as the two of you made your way through the busy streets of Ord Mantell back towards Cid’s. You each were carrying a bag of a somewhat unidentifiable treat you had picked up from one of the local vendors. The two of you, plus Wrecker when he wasn’t otherwise occupied, were on a mission to try all of the local snacks Ord Mantell had to offer and so far you had put a fairly large dent in the local offerings.

“I agree,” You said with a nod as you swiftly sidestepped a few drunken men leaving a nearby bar, even with all of the other noise their voices cut through the evening obnoxiously. Out of habit, you put your hand on Omega’s shoulder, pulling her closer to your side protectively as you continued on your way, “This is good, but it just doesn’t cut it.”

“What do you think it is, exactly?” Omega asked, holding a piece up in front of her face, inspecting it.

“That is a very good question,” You replied with a laugh. Perhaps the two of you should have been more careful about what you were eating but there was something fun about throwing all caution to the wind when it came to snacks. You just hoped it wasn’t something too horrible.

“Maybe we should get Tech to run an analysis on it,” Omega suggested as Cid’s came into view.

“Good idea,” You said with another laugh. Though your laugh was cut short by the sight that greeted the two of you. Simultaneously you pulled to a stop to watch the scene unfold.

Echo and Wrecker were supporting, or perhaps dragging was a better word, a very disgruntled-looking Tech towards Cid’s as Hunter trailed along behind them.

“This is completely unnecessary,” Tech said, sounding very much like an angry Tooka as his brothers pulled him along with them. He appeared to be doing his best to resist their movement but with only one good leg he wasn’t very successful against his two very strong brothers.

You leaned closer to Omega and whispered to her, “Do you want to take a guess what this is about?”

Omega seemed to ponder the scene for a moment before she opened her mouth to reply but whatever she had been about to say was cut off by Hunter speaking.

“You need to rest, Tech,” Hunter replied drily, “That’s an order.”

“Are we going on another mission?” Omega asked suddenly springing into action and closing the gap between herself and her brothers.

“Yes, we-“ Hunter started but was cut off by Tech once more.

“I am perfectly capable of flying the ship in this condition,” He protested. For most, a broken femur would have been debilitating, Tech, on the other hand, seemed to take it as a challenge. In the few days they had been back you had lost count of the number of times you had found him doing something he definitely should not have been doing with such a serious injury. Just that morning you had found him underneath the control panel of The Marauder tinkering away on something. How he had managed to get down to the floor when he could barely move his leg was still a mystery to you.

Hunter shot him a look that clearly indicated that there was no negotiating, “Rest.”

“C’mon Tech, just take it easy for a bit,” Wrecker joined in, “We’ll be back in no time and you’ll be ready for the next one!”

Echo and Wrecker didn’t let him even start protesting and with a good-natured chuckle from Wrecker they disappeared through the door of Cid’s. Omega bounced after them as you approached Hunter.

“You had to physically remove him from The Marauder?” Though it really wasn’t much of a question. Clearly, Tech had not been happy about the decision to leave him behind.

“Stubborn di’kut,” Hunter grumbled but there was such fondness in his eyes that his words were meaningless. The two of you made your way into the bar, which as per usual was nearly empty except for Cid and the regulars. You watched as Wrecker and Echo hauled Tech towards the back, Cid following along behind grumbling darkly before you turned your attention back to the Sergeant beside you.

“Where are we off to this time?” You asked as you popped the last of your mystery snack into your mouth.

Hunter instantly looked sheepish which made your brow furrow as you frowned at him. He lifted his hand to rub absently at the back of his neck, “Uh, actually, we were hoping you would stay behind this time around.”

“But I stayed behind last time!” You protested, you knew your voice was coming out whiny, but you didn’t care at the moment, “And you needed me!” You and Tech were the only two members of the squad with decent medical training and given that Tech had been the one who was injured it had truly been the one time you could have been helpful and yet you had been back on Ord Mantell, working in a back alley medical clinic that Cid had her grubby hands in. You didn’t necessarily enjoy working there, especially since it was profiting off of injured and ill people, but your time there was helping to pay off the considerable debt the batch had with Cid.

“We’re just going on a simple supply drop-off. We shouldn’t be gone more than a few hours,” Hunter replied, still looking chastised at your annoyance.

“Why me?” You asked, “I know I’m not the most skilled member of the squad but I can’t be that much of a dud.”

Hunter shook his head, but you didn’t miss the small smirk that had settled on his lips, “It has nothing to do with that. You’re an excellent member of this team. It’s just, we need someone to keep an eye on Tech and he likes you so we thought you might have a better chance of getting him to listen to you.”

You frowned, well, that was news to you. Sure, the two of you got along well when he wasn’t being so well, Tech-ish, but there had always been a tension that you had felt between the two of you. Since the day you had been assigned to them, you had felt as though he was always testing your abilities, as though you weren’t good enough for the squad and he was set on proving it. There always seemed to be something you could do better or something you didn’t know the answer to. It had always bothered you because deep down you desperately wanted his approval. Despite his tendency to be somewhat arrogant and overly pragmatic you truly liked him. He was so smart and charming in his own unique way. You liked his calm nature and dry wit. And when the topic wasn’t what you were doing incorrectly you enjoyed listening to him chat about whatever came into his mind, you found his facts interesting even when everyone else scoffed at him. You also couldn’t deny that you found him incredibly attractive but that was buried deep and likely a confession that would never see the light of day. It was clear that whatever you felt for him was one-sided.

“I don’t think that’s true…” You replied to Hunter, the frown on your face deepening as you looked at him.

“It is,” Hunter said with a nod, there was an indistinguishable look in his eyes that you didn’t like but it was gone nearly as quickly as it appeared, “You’ll keep an eye on him?”

You sighed as you crossed your arms over your chest. Hunter chuckled softly at your look, “It appears I don’t have much of a choice… but I’ll try my best,” It was as much of a promise you could give when it came to Tech. You knew that you would likely find him doing something he shouldn’t be within an hour of the rest of the Batch departing.

“Thank you,” Hunter said, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder just as Echo and Wrecker returned from the back room. Omega appeared at Hunter’s side a moment later, her face bright with excitement as she looked up at her brothers.

“Where are we off to?” She asked as she rocked back and forth on her heels excitedly.

“We’ll brief you on the way to the ship,” Hunter said. He gave you another nod before he turned towards the door, Omega hot on his heels as he left.

"Good luck,” Echo said, giving your shoulder a supportive pat as he passed by.

“Try not to kill him,” Wrecker added with a laugh before the two of them also made their way out of the bar. You sighed to yourself as you turned towards where they had hauled Tech off. You likely didn’t have much time before he started climbing through the rafters or something equally ridiculous so with another sigh you pulled your data pad from your bag and headed into the back room.

Somewhat unexpectedly, Tech was sitting up on the makeshift bed that had been made for him in the back room with his back against the wall, datapad in hand. He didn’t even look up when you entered the room. You could still see the tension in his shoulders and the lines of his face even from where you were standing. He was clearly still upset about being left behind so you refrained from saying anything. You wandered over to the small stool at his bedside and sat yourself down. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Tech freeze, his head popped up and you could feel his gaze on the side of your face.

After a moment you turned your head to meet his gaze. He looked confused. His brow furrowed beneath his goggles as he looked you over.

“Was there something that you required?” he asked after another long moment of simply staring at you.

You felt your face flush at his blunt words. You were fairly used to his ways and manner of expressing himself but every once and a while it still caught you off guard. Apparently, this was one of those times, “No, I just thought you might like some company…”

“That is not necessary,” he stated matter of factly. Your previous slight embarrassment increased tenfold and your face positively burned. So much for Hunter’s assurance that he actually liked you.

“Oh- uh, I guess I’ll go then…” you started awkwardly, standing back up from the stool. You weren’t sure why you thought he would actually enjoy your company and the fact that you had made your insides squirm uncomfortably.

“I did not say you had to leave,” Tech said, stopping you in your tracks, “I do not wish you to feel obligated to spend time with me. I know Hunter likely put you up to this.”

Despite him being correct about Hunter you denied it, “I don’t feel obligated. I like spending time with you. It’s a lot better than spending time with those two bottom feeders out there, or worse, Cid.”

You didn’t miss the small smirk that had suddenly appeared on his face or the way the tension in his body had disappeared, “Well I am glad that I at least rank above those three.”

“I would say you probably make the top 10,” You teased as you eased yourself back onto the stool beside him.

His smirk grew, “Probably?”

“It’s a fluid list,” You replied with a shrug before flashing a teasing smile at him.

“And exactly how does one get to the top of the list?” He asked as he set his datapad down on his lap. His attention was now completely focused on you.

“Oh that’s secret information,” You replied, “I wouldn’t want to give anyone an unfair advantage."

Tech seemed to consider that for a moment, “That is understandable. I will accept that answer and my ranking as you see fit. And in any case, I do enjoy a challenge,” If it had been anyone other than Tech you would have actually thought his tone was downright flirtatious. But that couldn’t be right. This was Tech. He didn’t even like you…

He gave you a look that you would almost consider shy before he turned his attention back to his data pad. You couldn’t stop the soft and nervous chuckle that escaped you as you mimicked his actions and pulled your data pad up, powering it on and opening up the most recent novel you had started reading.

A comfortable silence settled around the two of you as you both focused on your datapads. Despite your initial annoyance at being left behind it was actually nice to have some downtime. Quiet was hard to come by in your squad. It didn’t take long for you to get fully invested in the somewhat cheesy romance novel you were reading and time began to slip. Every once in a while you would peek over at Tech but much to your surprise he seemed content to actually stay put and not cause you any headaches.

After a while you noticed an ache beginning in your lower back, at first, it was ignorable but eventually, you started shifting uncomfortably on the stool. It had been fine at first but the longer you sat the more the lack of back support was beginning to bother you. You were just considering moving it so you could prop yourself up against the wall when Tech spoke up.

“That stool does not have enough lumbar support,” he said without even looking at you. Clearly, he had noticed your fidgeting at some point though.

“Yeah, I’m very aware of that,” you replied with a soft chuckle as you stood up. You felt Tech’s gaze on you as you did so. The screeching of the metal legs of the stool disturbed the relative silence of the room as you pushed it closer to the wall with your foot. It still wasn’t the best option but you hoped it would at least be a bit better. It wasn’t the worst place you’d ever sat, that was for sure.

You were just about to sit when Tech’s voice interrupted you, “You may sit with me if you wish,” he said casually. He had returned his attention to his datapad so he missed the shocked expression you knew was on your face, “There is more than enough room and your back will be better supported.”

It was something straight out of one of your daydreams, so much so that you couldn’t quite believe he had suggested it. Sure, you had been in closer proximity before but usually that was only out of necessity. Crowded beneath the ship doing repairs, a steadying hand during a mission, the occasional pat on the shoulder. But this felt very different.

“A-alright,” you said, suddenly sounding shy even to your own ears before you climbed up onto the bed beside him.

He had moved over slightly and there was enough room for the two of you to sit comfortably side by side in the bed but your legs were still touching as you settled, the heat of him burning through you.

You knew your face was flushed and your heart had picked up its pace as you held up your datapad once more. You just hoped Tech hadn’t noticed the effect his proximity was having on you.

“What are you reading?” Tech asked after a long moment. If you weren’t mistaken there was something that sounded like strain in his voice.

“Oh,” you replied, a wave of embarrassment washing through you as you looked towards him but actively avoided his gaze, “It’s just a silly romance novel.”

“It is not silly if you enjoy it,” Tech stated matter of factly, “What is it about?”

Despite his assurance, you were hesitant to tell him, you didn’t want him to add this to his list of things that were deficient about you.

He seemed to notice your hesitation, “Perhaps you can read me a passage so I may determine if I wish to pursue reading this novel when you have finished with it.”

“You read novels?” You asked in surprise. You hadn’t pegged him as the type to read anything that wasn’t purely academic or related to your missions.

“Yes, despite what others may believe I do not spend all of my time reading scientific or technical journals. I find novels to be an interesting insight into the behaviors of sentient beings, even if most of them are rather outlandish and unrealistic at times,” Tech replied.

You couldn’t help but smile softly at his answer, of course, he would read them for research purposes rather than just pure enjoyment. Though now that your initial question was answered you realized you had completely missed his true request.

“You-you want me to read it to you?” You asked feeling suddenly awkward by the content of your book and his request.

“Yes,” he said with a nod, “I require further analysis to determine if it would be worth my time.”

“O-ok,” you agreed hesitantly before you picked up where you had left off. You weren’t sure how much of the plot he would pick up given that you were already more than halfway through but if anyone could pick it up it would be him. You read quietly, not wanting your voice to carry out into the hall where Cid or anyone else might hear but your voice was still loud enough that it seemed to reverberate around the small room.

“He kissed her with a passion he didn’t even know he possessed. His one hand on the small of her back gently held her flush against him as the other reached up to cup her face…” You were suddenly very grateful that it wasn’t an overly raunchy part of the book as your voice cracked slightly as you read. You weren’t sure why you were so embarrassed, it wasn’t like you had written it, but the thought of even reading about kissing in Tech’s presence set your whole body aflame.

Thankfully the book moved on with the plot with only minor swapping of spit. You had been reading for quite a while before you noticed movement out of the corner of your eye. Tech was fidgeting in his seat now. Enough that you paused your reading, lowering your datapad into your lap as you looked over at him. He seemed to be actively avoiding your gaze as he continued to squirm slightly.

“Are you alright?” You asked, concern lacing your tone, “Is it your leg? I can’t get you more pain medication…”

“No. My leg is fine,” he answered abruptly. His gaze flickered towards you momentarily before he looked away again.

You suddenly noticed that the tips of his ears had grown red and a sudden thought dawned on you. Maybe he wasn’t as unaffected by the content of your novel as you might have thought, “Do you want me to move?”

“No. That is not necessary,” he replied, just as abruptly as before.

“Are you sure?” You asked hesitantly, though he had finally seemed to settle once more. His eyes finally met yours but he glanced away quickly, “You seem… uncomfortable.”

“I am fine. Please continue,” he seemed to pause for a moment, as though he was considering what he was about to say next, “You have a very pleasing voice.”

You felt your face flush bright red and your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You-you think my voice is pleasing?”

“Among other things,” Tech replied, though he said it so softly that you wondered briefly if he’d actually meant to say it out loud.

If you had thought your face had felt hot before it was nothing compared to how it felt now as you stared at the side of his face. He was looking around the room as though he hadn’t just dropped a major bomb of information on you.

“What-what do you mean?” You asked once it was clear he was not going to elaborate without prompting.

Finally, he looked back over at you, though the expression on his face was as if you had just asked the most obvious question in the world, “You are very conventionally attractive. I have conducted my own research on this matter by comparing you to others of similar age, origin, and species and have found you possess more desirable physical and intellectual traits than average.”

You felt as though you were going to burst into flame. He couldn’t possibly be admitting that he personally found you attractive, could he? Your heart was racing in your chest at the implication. Suddenly a different and somewhat unwelcome thought entered your head and your eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion as you looked at him, “How much pain medication have you been given?”

Tech’s eyebrows shot towards his hairline in surprise, “A fair amount, but regardless, I am simply stating the facts. This is not a drug-induced confession.”

You were quiet for a long moment, “I honestly thought you didn’t like me very much...” you admitted softly as your blood continued to race in your veins.

Tech looked completely shocked by your admission, “Why in the galaxy would think that?”

You shrugged, suddenly embarrassed by your honest thoughts, “I just often feel like you’re testing me to see if I actually belong with this squad and usually I feel like I come up short.”

Tech looked honestly distressed by your words, his brown eyes were wide beneath his goggles, concern evident in the depths of them, “That- If I have ever made you feel unwelcome or uncomfortable please know that is not my intention. You are as much a part of this squad as any of my brothers, you’re one of us,” you noticed that suddenly the tips of his ears had turned red again and his gaze strayed from yours as he spoke, “I only test you because I know what you are capable of. I push you to be better because I want to ensure your safety. Perhaps my methods have been misguided though.”

“Oh,” you replied lamely, unsure of what else to say but inside your heart was warming at his admission. It felt as though a massive weight had been lifted from your shoulders to find out that he actually didn’t dislike you. That his actions were out of concern not a lack of confidence in your abilities.

The redness from his ears had traveled down to his neck as you looked up at him, his gaze seemed to be focused on everywhere other than you when he spoke again, “I - I care for you a great deal.”

You’d always thought that heroines swooning in novels was a bit heavy-handed and unrealistic but suddenly you felt as if you could keel right over at his admission. Your heart was racing in your chest and your stomach fluttered as you watched him. He still was avoiding your eye contact and with a sudden surge of bravery you reached out to place your hand on top of his that was resting on his thigh closest to you. The skin-on-skin contact made you gasp at the electric sensation.

“I care you for a great deal too,” you replied shyly, looking up at him from beneath your lashes as your cheeks burned.

His gaze finally snapped back to you at your words. His beautiful brown eyes were molten as they traced the lines of your face, as though he was cataloging and committing it to memory. Knowing him, he probably was.

After a long moment, he cleared his throat, then took a deep breath as though he was preparing himself for battle, "I would like to conduct an experiment,” His voice cracked slightly which was something you had never heard from him before. Tech was the definition of calm and collected, “If you are willing of course…”

A puzzled expression overtook your face as you looked at him, your curiosity was nearly overwhelming. He looked nervous.

“What did you have in mind?” You asked softly.

“I wish to replicate your novel.”

You honestly thought you might faint, your head felt as if it was about to drift off into the clouds. You briefly wondered if maybe you were the one who had taken too much pain medication. Or maybe that unidentifiable snack you had earlier was causing you to have hallucinations.

“You-you want to kiss me?” You finally managed to ask, your voice sounded as breathless as you felt.

“Very much so,” Tech said with a nod, his expression was completely serious.

“O-ok,” you managed to squeak which was all the encouragement he needed before he was angling himself towards you. His hand came up to gently cup your jaw and before you could even fully wrap your head around what was happening he was kissing you. Even in sitting, he was much taller than you and he had to duck his head to reach you. The angle was a bit awkward due to your side-by-side positions but that was quickly forgotten as he deepened the kiss. His lips were soft and gentle against your own at first but it didn’t take long before the kiss became more persistent as he drew you even closer. Your hand gripped the front of his shirt, anchoring you he gently nipped at your lower lip. Tech groaned softly, which was the greatest sound you had ever heard as you reciprocated, pressing yourself up into him as you devoured one another. You had never been kissed like this before. It was as if suddenly every nerve ending in your body had been woken up after years of being asleep.

You felt as if you might combust at any moment and your head was spinning. But suddenly Tech pulled away from you. You were unable to stop the soft moan of disappointment that escaped you as he did so. You felt as if all of the air had been sucked from your lungs as you watched him with wide eyes. His own chest was heaving slightly as he gazed at you, his eyes still molten as they seemed to focus on your lips.

“Hmm, fascinating,” He said softly after a moment, once his breathing had seemed to return to normal.

“What is?” You asked, suddenly feeling shy under the intensity of his gaze.

“Your lips are even softer than I hypothesized,” he said as he lifted his hand to cup your jaw once more, his thumb traced your cheek softly, sending shivers down your spine.

“What other things have you hypothesized?” You asked, smiling up at him as your heart continued to pound in your chest. He was going to be the death of you.

“I theorized that if I were to kiss you once I would then wish to never stop,” His voice was huskier than you had ever heard it before, “that theory has also been proven correct.”

“Well, I think that is acceptable,” You replied with a teasing smile, looking up at him once more from beneath your lashes, “Kiss me again, Tech.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

You wanted desperately to get closer to him as he captured your lips with his own, but you knew that with his injured leg, your current position was the only one that wouldn’t cause him pain. Next time, you thought before you gasped in surprise as he parted your lips with his tongue. He moaned softly against you as his hand slid from your jaw to tangle in your hair. Kissing him was intoxicating.

A sudden noise in the hall had you both jumping apart. You both watched the door, chests heaving. But there was no further sound and no one burst through the door to bust you like you had been expecting. You suddenly giggled at the ridiculousness of it all, the fact that you suddenly felt like a horny teenager who couldn’t get enough of him, and how you had gone so long thinking he didn’t care for you when in fact it had been the exact opposite.

Tech’s cheeks were red when you looked back up at him but there was a wide smile on his face that warmed your heart. You didn’t think you had ever seen him smile like that before. This truly was a day of firsts.

“Was my kissing sufficient?” He asked you earnestly which only made you giggle again.

You grabbed his hand, interlocking your fingers as you smiled up at him, “More than sufficient."

His face flushed further as he lifted your joint hands to place a soft kiss on your knuckles, “Thank you for keeping me company today.”

“Anytime,” You replied sincerely before you shifted, leaning back against the wall once more before you tilted your head to rest on his shoulder. Tech seemed to tense momentarily at your proximity before he completely relaxed, leaning further into you. He let your hands fall, still intertwined into his lap.

This had not been what you had in mind when Hunter had made the request of you to keep an eye on Tech earlier. But you couldn’t help but think, as Tech’s head tilted to rest against your own as the two of you settled into comfortable silence once more, that this was far better than anything you could have imagined.

#Tech #tbb tech #tech x reader #tech x fem!reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x fem!reader #tbb x reader #tbb x fem!reader #star wars fanfiction

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