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sugarmaplewings-fics · 3 years

Text

Touch Starved

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Warnings: Cursing, sfw fwb dynamic (lmao it’s secret hugging)

A/N:

*heavy breathing* I finally finished it!! I’ve had this request sitting in my inbox for literal months and I’m so sorry, anon, that you had to wait so long 😫. I hope you like what I came up with!

Also I ended up using she/her pronouns a bit towards the end, so if you’d like me to edit it so it has they/them I can repost it! Just let me know :)

-Sugar

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● Bakugou's never been much for physical affection

● Or, at least, so he'd convinced himself

● Even around his family, he found himself shrinking back from hugs

● And anytime one of his friends would try to put an arm around him or pat him on the back, he'd flinch and tense up (Kirishima and Kaminari had a few special privileges, but even they were on thin fucking ice)

● A part of him craved that touch, wished it could last longer

● But his ego always got in the way

● From a young age, he'd viewed acts like this as showing weakness and vulnerability. It's no surprise that by the time he arrives at UA, the longing is a mostly ignorable dull throb

● Until he got to know you

● You were one of the most sickeningly sweet people Bakugou had ever seen, and he despised you

● You were just as bad as that Shitty Hair, if not worse; always grinning and trying to include everyone, even him

● He hated how his eyes seemed to have a mind of their own around you, never letting you leave their gaze when you were around him. He hated how your laugh made his cheeks heat up and his heart pound in his chest. And most of all, he hated when the tips of your fingers would brush against his arm, or when you tried to lean on his shoulder. You truly were the most intolerable of beings

● And it seems like you're even worse today

● Class was about to start and you were talking with Ashido, Kirishima, and Kaminari

● He honestly wasn't even paying attention to the conversation, that is, until he heard his name mentioned

● His red eyes flicked to you, since it had been your voice he'd heard say his name

● You had definitely been trying to get his attention. Now your gaze was directed at him

● "I've never seen you hug anyone, Bakugou," you said, your head tilted slightly as you addressed him

● "The hell does that have to do with anything?" he grumbled, already getting annoyed at the topic of conversation

● "Well, I read the other day that hugs can make you happier! And you always seem so grumpy all the time, so I was wondering if you just needed more hugs."

● You seemed oblivious to the way your classmates were staring at you. Even Bakugou couldn't bring himself to speak, merely glaring at you with a confused, almost offended expression

● Panicking at his lack of response, you bent down and threw your arms around his shoulders. You thought you heard a gasp from one or two of your classmates behind you

● Bakugou seemed to have no reaction other than mild shock. He just froze there, neither pushing you off nor reciprocating

● The whole thing was over within a few seconds, but it felt as though it had actually lasted much, much longer. Seconds after you pulled away, the bell rang for class to start, and everyone had to go back to their seats

● There was an abnormal silence in the class after that. It was as if nearly every student was thinking, Holy crap, (L/N) just hugged Bakugou freaking Katsuki

● Bakugou was weirdly silent too. It seemed as if he hadn't had any reaction at all

● Sike—it was pure chaos inside his head

● He's just been pounded with a whole slew of new feelings and emotions—give the boy a break (and a minute to process)

● He can scarcely pay attention during class (which he can afford to do, it's not like he doesn't already know most of this stuff)

● Katsuki can't tell if he hated it or not

● His immediate instinct is to reject it and say it was awful . . . but he can't deny that there's a teeny tiny part of his brain that wants you to do it again

● No one can ever know this, of course. He has a reputation to maintain, after all

● But in the safety of his own mind, he replays it over and over, trying to remember every detail of how your arms had felt around him for that brief moment

● Boy was hooked on you even more than he had been before

● But it's not like anyone can tell. Bakugou's good at that. No one would ever be able to tell he had any feelings towards the incident at all, negative or positive

● Even after his friends bombard him with questions after class, he gruffly brushes them all off. He acts so uninterestingly about it, they don't even bother asking him about it again

● Bakugou hopes that this will all blow over within the next few days. He'd surely stop thinking about you all the time, right? Maybe somehow, if he ignored these thoughts, his eyes wouldn't trail after you on their own accord, and his mind wouldn't jump at every opportunity to think about you

● For weeks, he told himself this, and time passed to nearly two months. He avoided you at all costs, refusing to speak to you or even make eye contact

● You felt horrible, blaming it on the dumb mistake you'd made to hug him that morning. No matter how hard you tried to approach him to apologize, he'd turn you away, and soon enough, you'd given up

● Until one night, he couldn't take it anymore

● He had just been fantasizing about that moment again, and tentatively wondering how it would feel to put his arms around you while he was out in the dorm hallway

● Even through the haze of his thoughts, he was quick to notice your head of hair about to turn into the hallway to your room

● You. Bubbly, bright, overly touchy and friendly you. Fuck you.

● You were always hugging everyone, right? You didn't really mean anything by it, right? It was no big deal when you hugged other people. So, maybe if he were to just ask . . .

● "Oi."

● You froze in your tracks. You'd caught sight of him in the hall, but you knew better than to try to attract his attention. He was dead set on avoiding you, and you'd pretty much accepted that by now

● Turning, you met his fiery red eyes for the first time in weeks. "Yeah?"

● There was something . . . apprehensive in his expression. You weren't sure if you'd ever seen anything like it on his face before

● "Get over here, I want to ask you something." He shoved his hands in his pockets, shifting his glare to the carpet below him

● Uncertain of what might be going on, you cautiously made your way to him

● "What is it?" you asked, a little annoyed with how he'd been treating you lately

● "I, um, well—remember that thing you did a while ago?"

● You blinked at him, slowly. "I do a lot of things. You need to be more specific."

● You'd never seen him look so flustered. It was almost . . . cute

● "You—um, you hugged me. Remember?"

● Of course you remembered. That was what had made him hate you in the first place, right?

● You sighed and crossed your arms. "Look, I'm sorry I did that. I know it made you uncomfortable and I'm sorry it affected you so much. Really, I was just goofing around, and I'm sorry it got out of hand."

● He blinked at you. You were apologizing? Oh, maybe it did make sense, now that he thought about it. He had been being an ass to you

● "Is that what you wanted?" you asked. "I tried to apologize a long time ago but you wouldn't even look at me—"

● "Could you do it again?" he cut you off

● ". . . apologize?"

● "What?! No!" Bakugou's face reddened and he scanned the surroundings for a potential audience. He dropped his voice to a scarcely audible mumble. "I . . . —dammit, I want you to hug me again."

● You blinked at him, this time in surprise. You had, in fact, heard him, but you could barely believe it. You only knew that you'd understood him correctly by his posture, and how uncharacteristically flustered he was

● "You want another hug?"

● He scowled. "Don't make me say it twice."

● "So you liked it the first time?"

● "I never said that!"

● "Uh-huh."

● Even with your annoyed teasing, you felt as if you might be able to understand a little. Everything seemed to make more sense to you, and you were beginning to catch onto the bigger picture. He'd been embarrassed that he liked it, and that was why he'd been avoiding you

● "So do you want a hug now or—?"

● "Not where anyone could see!" Bakugou's eyes nervously darted around again. "We could . . . go in my room or something." His voice had dropped back to a mumble

● You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Secret hugs, huh? I didn't know I was in such high demand."

● "Shut up, dumbass. Just follow me."

● You do that, letting him lead you into his room. After he shuts the door behind you, you stand there awkwardly for a second

● "So . . . you just wanted a hug?"

● He shrugged. "Yeah."

● You closed the distance between you and took him into your arms

● He stiffened a little at the contact, heart pounding away in his chest. It was even better than he had remembered, and now he noticed even more things; like the way your chest felt pressed against his body, and how your hair smelled like shampoo, and—

● "Relax, idiot," you whispered beside his ear. Bakugou tried to let out some of the tension in his shoulders and even tried looping his own arms around you

● You snickered internally, until a thought struck you

● When you finally pulled away, you looked at him inquisitively. "When was the last time you hugged someone?" you asked. "Other than me."

● He frowned, still a little flustered. Then he shrugged. "I don't know. It's probably been a few years."

● You couldn't help but feel your heart pang a little bit for the boy. You knew how he felt about interacting with people. You'd seen how adverse he'd seemed towards physical interaction, even among his friends

●Touch starved, you thought. It was an awful thing to experience. Bakugou probably wasn't even aware of what he was missing

● You sighed. "We can do this again if you want," you offered, wondering if the proposition would set him off to ignore you again. "I won't tell anyone."

● "Better not," he muttered under his breath

● "Do you want me to come back or not?" you asked

● He shrugged. "S'whatever. Do whatever."

● You frowned right back at him. "Yes. Or no?"

● "Yes! Yes, come over here and hug me or whatever shit! Just—just leave now."

● You rolled your eyes at him, turning and twisting the doorknob. "Just ask when you're ready," you said before walking out of his room again

● Bakugou stared at the door for a long time after you'd left

● His chest felt like it had little explosions going off in it, and he couldn't help but feel ridiculously giddy

● What was he doing? But it had felt . . . amazing. And you'd offered to do it again, whenever he asked . . . .

● . . . You proved to stand by your word

● Sure enough, he'd catch you alone every few days and sneak off to his room for a quick hug. In return, he'd help you go over your notes for class

● Before long, you couldn't help but feel closer to Bakugou. Even with his harsh nature, you noticed how he could really be. Coupled with the moments of vulnerability he'd let you in on while you hugged in secret, your liking for the boy only grew

● And it did seem to have some effect on his mood. He wasn't so easily set off, and he yelled a bit less. Your fellow classmates didn't bring up the change, but they had certainly noticed it

● Even though no one was allowed to know about your shared moments together, Kirishima would often join you for a study session

● During those days, you'd wait until he left before going in to give Bakugou his hug

● Until the inevitable happened

● It was just you and Bakugou in his room. You'd gotten all your stuff packed up for the night and you were giving him one last hug

● He'd gotten better at it over the past couple of weeks, and he'd learned to relax more into your hold

● Of course, that was right when Kirishima came back in

● "Sorry, dude, I left my—" He froze at the sight before him

● Bakugou jumped back from you, trying to look as though it wasn't obvious what he'd just been doing

● "Sorry, guys!" he said, hovering in the doorway for a moment as he debated whether or not to grab whatever he'd forgotten before dashing back out. Ultimately he decided to go emptyhanded, slamming the door shut as he whisked back into his room

● You looked at Bakugou, trying to gauge how he'd taken this turn of events. He looked angry and flustered (a look on him you were starting to get used to), but he definitely could have looked more outraged

● You patted his back. "Are you okay?"

● The blond seemed speechless for once, unable to take his eyes off the door

● "It's just Kirishima," you assured him. "He'd get it. He's understanding."

● Bakugou wasn't so sure

● A few minutes after you left, there was another knock at Bakugou's door

● "What the hell do you want?"

● Kirishima poked his head in, making sure the coast was clear. "I just wanted my notebook back."

● Bakugou picked it up from his desk and launched it at Kirishima's head, which he barely managed to catch

● "Thanks, man." Even with his originally sought after item, the redhead proceeded to step into his friend's room. "So what's going on with you and (L/N)?"

● There it was, the question Bakugou knew was coming

● "Nothing." At least it wasn't a complete lie

● "No, you two were doing something," Kirishima smirked. "Are you dating in secret or something?"

● "What?! No! It's not like that! And besides, it's none of your fucking business."

● Kirishima shrugged. "That's fair. But if you're not dating, why was she hugging you?"

● Bakugou tched. "She hugs everyone, you know her."

● "Yeah, but you were hugging her back."

● "She just gives really nice hugs!"

● Kirishima pouted. "You never hug me."

● "That's because it's different!"

● "So does that mean you like her or something?"

● Bakugou froze for just a split second too long. "No."

● Kirishima gave him a look. "She might like you back. Just ask her out on a date."

● "I already said it wasn't like that—"

● Bakugou's friend shrugged. "Well, if it was . . . couldn't hurt to try."

● Once Kirishima was successfully kicked from Bakugou's room, he took a moment to think. Could he actually . . . like you? Maybe that would explain some of the things that he'd been feeling lately

● But what about you? Could you like him back?

● Bakugou rolled his shoulders. Of course you'd like him, what part of him wasn't perfect? But still . . . .

● One night a few days later, you were alone with Bakugou again in his room, doing homework together

● You couldn't help but notice that his vibe seemed off, and it looked like he was having trouble concentrating

● "Are you alright?" you finally asked him

● "Yeah," he snapped

● "You seem stressed," you commented.

● "I'm not fucking stressed," he said, refusing to meet your eyes as he glared at his notebook in front of him

● "Okay, then," you muttered, rolling your eyes to yourself and attempting to go back to your own notes

● You watched Bakugou fidget from the corner of your eye, but decided not to pay it any mind anymore. It wasn't long before you noticed that he hadn't turned a page in his book for the past several minutes

● Bakugou was, of course, internally raging

● Why couldn't he ask you a simple question? Did he even know what kind of question he wanted to ask, though?

●Go out on a date with me— too forward, it didn't sound right to him in his head

●For some reason, I think I might like you— no again, that wasn't right either

● His mind rolled over various phrasings, trying to figure out how to put his feelings to words. How was he supposed to do that?

● How could he iterate this weird burning mess he felt clawing in his chest every time he looked at you and touched you? How could he say that he wanted more than what you were doing? How was he supposed to get the reaction out of you that he wanted?

●Be fearless, he told himself. He'd faced worse than this before. He'd been through situations where his life had literally been on the line. How come you, of all people, made him feel more frightened than ever before? Why did he care about your opinion of him so goddamn much??

● He had to start somewhere. Maybe once he got going it would be easier

● "Oi," he said, straining to keep his voice steady and nonchalant as you looked up at his averted eyes

● "Yeah?"

● "I was . . . I was wondering if maybe you wanted to . . . study somewhere else sometime."

● You blinked at him. "Like . . . where?"

● He shrugged, just a bit too jerkily. "I don't know. There's this café a few blocks from campus."

● You squinted at him. "What's wrong with staying here?"

● He scowled, his eyes finally darting up to meet yours before dipping back down again. "I just wondered if we could maybe—do something together. Something a little different."

● A hint of realization dawned on you, causing a smile to alight on your lips and your eyebrow to quirk up. "Different like—a date? Are you asking me out on a date with you?"

● He shrugged again in the same manner, still scowling as he muttered, "Only if you want it to be."

● You considered for a moment. He was a decent enough guy. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you might say you'd developed a bit of a crush on him, actually. You'd never paid too much attention to it before, but now that he was asking . . . it couldn't hurt to try

● "Of course I'll go out with you," you said, breaking into an easy smile that Bakugou still wasn't certain if he adored or hated

● He immediately relaxed, a small smile of his own appearing on his face at your agreement

● He was glad it was you. You were the only person he felt comfortable being vulnerable around. He could already tell that he was growing to like you more and more with each passing day, and he could only hope that you felt the same

● You put up with him, and you were strong in your own way, and by goodness, he was beginning to fall for you so hard

● And maybe, if you agreed for him to be your boyfriend, you'd let him cuddle with you. It wouldn't be awkward, because that's what couples did. You'd be his and he'd be yours, and he wouldn't have to bottle up these annoying feelings anymore

● But that would be decided at some later time

● Even so, he couldn't wait for that day to come

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Taglist: @basicaegyo @fourteenow @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @sendhelpimstupid @xoxopam4

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou bnha #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #request fulfilled!#sugar fics

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teshamerkel · 3 years

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Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

Chapter 16 (18 Pages)

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Nia spends time with Xander’s team, learning more about aura in the process.

Nia yawns, finally giving up on her book for today and slipping a furret bookmark that Maggie had given her between the pages. No matter how hard Nia tries to focus on the words about different types of Pokémon evolution, the sentences are starting to blur and jumble before her eyes, so she figures it’s time to give it a rest.

She looks up at the two Pokemon lying a few feet away on a mossy rug, comfortably sprawled out in Xander’s team quarters. The luxio and his wartortle partner are playing some sort of game with dice-like stones. Felix is clearly losing, his fluffy ears twitching as he grumbles under his breath. Xander’s cat-like face is smug with victory, his tail flicking side to side with lazy patience.

Avery is sitting at Nia’s side, the two of them relaxing back against the wooden wall on a bed of straw and moss. Nia doesn’t want to disrupt the kirlia’s concentration as they focus on their own book, but the atmosphere is so peaceful and relaxed, bathed in the warm evening sunlight coming through the lattice window, and she can’t help but feel comfortable enough to speak up.

“Can I ask you guys something?”

All three Pokemon look up, faces open and curious.

“‘Course,” Felix says.

Nia smiles, a little embarrassed. “I know your team is just as busy as ours, if not more so. How are you not, like...exhausted? Literally all the time?”

Xander looks back to the game, laughter in his voice as he responds, “Oh trust me, we are. It used to be worse, before we got used to the job and the demanding work hours.”

“Naps help a lot, when you can manage ‘em,” Felix adds, frowning as he rolls the dice. He’s had horrible luck this whole game. At least, that’s what he’s been saying. Nia still hasn’t quite picked up the rules from watching. “You feeling worn down?”

Nia leans back against the wood of the tree. The bark making up the architecture of the tree is smooth, and thanks to her fur it isn’t even uncomfortable to lean against. She closes her eyes and hums.

“Yeah, I guess. I know I’ve been here a few weeks, but I think I’m just not used to everything yet.”

“I’ll never get used to waking up so early,” Felix grumbles. “Mornings are suffering.”

Nia laughs. “Actually, that part’s not too bad. It’s more the battling, I think. And just...I dunno, emotional stuff.”

“Mental exhaustion can take a big toll,” Avery says at her side, voice soft. They close their own book to turn their full attention to the conversation.

“I’d be exhausted too if I had Tobias for a partner,” Felix says. He’s clearly teasing, but Nia knows that on some level the wartortle actually means it. “I don’t know how you put up with him every day, Nia.”

Nia’s torn between a laugh and the urge to roll her eyes. She settles on a light tone to match the wartortle’s. “Come on, I told you we worked everything out the other day. He’s trying harder to be nice.”

Felix and Xander both make a doubtful noise.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Xander says.

“Well, I think it’s great that Tobias is trying to grow,” Avery says, giving Nia a soft smile.

Nia smiles back and leans forward to watch the boys’ game again, cupping her chin in her hands.

“He’s been really patient with all of my questions since we talked,” Nia says, feeling like she should defend her partner somehow. It’s clear that he’s been trying hard to reign in his temper and be more considerate the last few days, even if he still struggles with it. “When we cleaned out the guild’s food storage this morning, he didn’t even snap at me when I bumped into some shelves and buried us in rice.”

Xander snorts. “That’s called being a decent Pokémon, Nia. Don’t give him too much credit.”

“I’m not! I’m just saying he’s doing better, y’know?”

Felix gives Nia a grin, tilting his head in consideration. “You’re too sweet, ya know that?”

Nia doesn’t know what to say to that, so she blushes under her fur and makes a show of moving her book to her side with a quiet word of thanks.

“Yo! I’m back. Did Felix get whooped yet?”

Nia jumps and looks up to see that Kry has returned from her trip to the cafeteria to find a snack. The dinosaur-like pokemon is munching on an apple as she plops down next to Felix and Xander.

“Hey, I could still win,” Felix protests.

“Ha! Yeah, and bagon can fly.”

“You do know they can fly when they evolve, right?”

“Not anymore, genius! No evolution, no wings!”

Felix deflates and grumbles to himself as he goes back to the game. Nia tilts her head and leans closer to Avery.

“S-Sorry. Uh, what kind of Pokémon is Kry again?”

“A fraxure. Dragon type, middle evolution like the rest of us.”

Nia nods. Right. Fraxure. It certainly looks like the aggressive Pokémon could live up to her name and fracture some bones, from the brief interactions Nia’s seen. Kry’s a bit...rough around the edges. But it’s clear she fits right in with the rest of Xander’s team. Somehow.

“What have you been reading, if you don’t mind me asking?” Avery asks, polite as ever.

Nia shakes herself out of her thoughts. “No, of course I don’t mind!” She holds up the book. “It’s about different kinds of evolution? I still don’t exactly, uh. Get it. As a process. But it’s fascinating to learn about all the different ways it’s triggered.”

Avery tilts their head, looking at Nia with thoughtful consideration. “You don’t understand evolution?”

Nia’s ears flatten. “W-Well, uh, no, but—“

“Does evolution not happen to humans?”

It’s clear that Avery isn’t judging Nia’s confusion, just curious in return. Still, Nia is thankful that they keep their voice hushed.

“N-No, definitely not,” Nia says. “At least, not in the same way? I think? When Pokémon evolve, they change...suddenly, right? Like, Xander used to look like Luca and then he suddenly turned into a luxio?”

Avery hums. “More or less, yes.”

“Is...Is that...how Pokémon grow up, uh...physically? By evolving?”

The kirlia shakes their head, eyes softening into something almost sad. “No. If that were the case we’d all be in danger of dying out, with how Pokemon can no longer evolve. Don’t worry, you’re an adult by Pokémon standards, even as a riolu.”

Nia relaxes at the confirmation. With the way everyone has been treating her, she was pretty sure they’d been seeing her as the adult she felt she was in the human world, but it’s still nice to know for sure.

“Pokemon can stay unevolved forever,” Avery goes on. “They’ll grow larger than a child Pokémon of the same species, though, and physically mature. Their...statures would simply be smaller than if they evolved. Weaker.”

Nia nods. That...makes some sense, in a way. Even with humans, there were grown women who ended up much shorter than some teenage boys. Different statures among the same species.

“Humans don’t ever...change so radically. So suddenly. At least not naturally.”

Avery turns curious eyes onto Nia, so the riolu continues.

“We start out tiny, and then just grow gradually until we reach adulthood. We can change parts of ourselves, of course—darken our skin, cut our hair, change our clothes or our entire style. But...that’s not what evolution is for, right? Aesthetics, individuality? Comfort?”

The kirlia hums. “No. Evolution is typically for...strength, I suppose. Increased speed, strength, defense, sheer size.”

“So for battling?” Nia asks, confusion edging into her voice. She knew that Pokémon were more biologically geared towards fighting, with their toughened defense and incredible healing capabilities, but she also knows that most Pokémon don’t seem to prefer fighting aside from playful battles. At least, not anymore. Now they’re bakers, florists, carvers and artisans. A society.

Maybe Avery understands what Nia’s getting at, because the kirlia looks thoughtful. “There’s a reason so many Pokémon evolve through battling experience and so few from exposure to stones, or travel. Most Pokémon evolve by training themselves and growing stronger. Legends say that Pokémon used to be more...primitive. Less civilized. I believe it used to be less about strength and more about survival.”

Nia watches as Felix tries to creep his hand over the dice to cheat a turn of the stones. Xander, discussing strategies in-depth with Kry, doesn’t even look before batting the turtle’s hand away with a paw. Felix yelps, and Nia giggles.

“Maybe that’s why evolution stopped working?” Nia suggests. “Maybe Pokémon have just...evolved to the point that strength evolution isn’t necessary anymore. You’re a society now, after all. You didn’t need to be physically strong to have a lot of power or be successful in the human world. We have systems, laws, protectors. Technology and weapons. Maybe you’ve just reached a point in society where that changed enough for you guys, too.”

Avery suddenly laughs, tinkling and light. Nia isn’t sure whether to feel happy at the sound or embarrassed that she’d apparently said something stupid. She settles for staring at the kirlia with wide eyes and heated fur.

“Apologies,” Avery says, meeting Nia’s eyes, ruby to ruby. “It wasn’t a stupid thought at all. Fascinating, actually. I was just...struck. By finding such a kindred spirit in you. Xander’s the only one who even tries to humor my philosophical ramblings.”

Nia feels herself relax, and laughs as well. “Two curious souls, huh?”

Avery just smiles, warm and soft.

“What’re you two nerds laughing about?” Kry asks.

Nia looks up to see the other three Pokémon staring at them.

Avery waves their hand in a dismissive motion. “My usual ramblings, Kry. Don’t mind us.”

“Talking about evolution!” Nia adds.

At that, Xander and Felix go back to their game with amused smirks. Kry, however, rolls her eyes. “Why? We can’t evolve anyways.”

“But maybe it could be fixed?” Nia suggests. When Kry turns a doubtful look on her, the riolu shrinks back. “I-I mean, maybe not, but...”

“No harm in discussing it, right?” Avery says.

Kry snorts and goes back to the game. “Guess not.”

Nia relaxes. She knows there’s no reason for Kry to put her on edge, but she just has such a...strong personality. Nia’s become more used to Tobias’ sharp attitude, but Kry? Not so much.

“Would you evolve? If you could?”

Nia blinks and turns to Avery at the unexpected question. “W-What?”

"Would you like to evolve if it were possible?” Avery repeats. Maybe this is a normal question for most Pokémon. Or for their teammates and friends, at least.

“U-Um. I don’t know? Maybe?” Nia flicks her tail into her lap, trying to sound confident. “I mean, it doesn’t really matter much to me, since I’m going back to the human world as soon as I can find a way to return, s-so...”

Avery doesn’t respond aside from a soft sound that Nia can’t quite decipher. She’s too afraid to look at the kirlia’s expression, too scared of seeing the pity or doubt she might find there, so she deflects. “Besides, to evolve I’d have to form an affection, um...”

“Bond?”

“Yeah! An affection bond with someone. And from what I’ve read, that doesn’t seem to mean just a casual friendship.”

Avery nods, eyeing their teammates. “Correct. An affection bond that can lead to evolution only occurs between Pokemon who trust each other with anything. Who see each other as they truly are and would likely die for each other.”

Nia flicks her ear, nervously. “Th-That’s a bit, uh. Extreme.”

Avery laughs lightly under their breath. “Indeed. It’s simply how we tend to describe it. It’s...the deepest form of love, whether platonic or romantic.”

Nia nods, shifting uncomfortably. “Yeah, so...I mean, don’t get me wrong! I’m really glad I met you guys and Andyn’s group and Maggie and, uh, even Tobias, in a weird way. But...”

“You don’t think you’ll ever have that sort of bond with us,” Avery guesses.

Nia flinches. The psychic type’s words aren’t cold or insulted, but it still sounds...harsh.

“Yeah, I guess,” Nia rasps, pulling her knees up to her chest. “It’s just...I’m planning on leaving, you know? I don’t wanna get too close to anyone just to leave us both heartbroken when I go.”

Avery doesn’t answer, but the silence doesn’t feel heavy. Still, Nia rests her chin on her hands, sighing. She wants to go home, nice as it is here, but she still feels bad just leaving these people behind after their kindness.

She’ll miss them.

Maybe Avery picks up on Nia’s mood change, because they turn to the riolu with an encouraging smile. “Xander mentioned that you can read the aura of other Pokemon now. Would you like to try it on me, if it’s not too much strain?”

Nia recognizes the distraction technique, but can’t help feeling grateful for it. She lifts her head, blinking. “R-Really?”

“I’m a psychic type. I know how exciting it is to try out a new mental technique with someone willing.”

Nia straightens up and turns to the kirlia, feeling a smile edge at her lips. It’s not every day she gets to test her aura abilities on someone new! So far she’s only felt Val and Maggie’s auras, and Amani’s blossoming pink during a different training session. “O-Okay. You know it’s pretty, uh…personal, though, right? Like, I’m kind looking at your soul, I think?”

Avery nods with a smile. “I’m aware.”

“J-Just let me know if you want me to stop, okay? I’ll need your hand, though.”

Avery offers a delicate hand.

Nia takes it and closes her eyes, summoning her aura (it gets easier every time she does it!), pouring it down her arm and into her hand, brushing it against the kirlia’s skin to find their aura. When Avery’s silhouette sparks to life behind Nia’s eyes, she laughs. Even without looking deeper towards the core of Avery’s aura, Nia can feel the prickle of their curiosity.

“Your aura’s blue like mine!” Nia explains.

The kirlia laughs too, quietly. “Kindred spirits indeed.”

Nia nods. “Your aura is more of a...purpley-blue, though. Deeper. Kind of indigo.” It feels...serene. Filled with a boundless curiosity and something deeply wise. It’s a dusk sky just as stars begin to shine, a calm evening full of possibilities. It’s actually a little difficult to put her finger on, to interpret the color into a personality, more difficult than it has been so far. Before Nia can go on, Felix’s hushed voice breaks through her concentration.

“That’s so cool!”

Nia jumps, yanking her hand back as the tear drops at her head drop lightly to the collar of fur around her neck. Nia turns to find Xander, Felix, and even Kry sitting close to her and Avery and watching the whole ordeal with fascination.

“Ooh! Can you do me next?” Felix asks excitedly, scooting closer as if she won’t see him there, practically bouncing in his seat.

Xander gives Felix a reprimanding look. “Dude, chill, she might need to rest or something. You know how Avery gets when they’re overworked.”

Before Felix can deflate under the scolding, Nia smiles. “N-No, I can do it, don’t worry. Just give me a second. I’m still learning so it kind of wipes me out, but that’s why I need to practice. You don’t mind me reading your aura? It’s kind of, um. Personal.”

Felix grins at her with shining eyes. “Nah, I don’t mind if it’s not too exhausting for you.”

Nia exchanges an amused look with Avery, then turns her body to Felix. She closes her eyes, holds out her hand for him to take, and then repeats the process of finding her aura, and sending it to where she’s touching the wartortle’s skin.

Felix’s aura flares to life behind Nia’s eyes, and she feels her face drop slack in surprise as the color registers. “Oh. Felix, you’re green.”

The turtle sounds as surprised as his aura feels, the green energy jumping in intensity. “Really?”

“Yeah. Like...a calm, leafy sort of green.” Not calm in the typical sense because the wartortle is certainly not that, but…flexible, she supposes. Purposefully not anxious. Like the changing seasons and the trees that follow them, very go-with-the-flow and easygoing. As unexpectedly sturdy as an oak tree, too. Comforting. It does make sense for the wartortle, in a way, but she has to admit she’s surprised by how deep into his very being his instincts to comfort amuse stabilize go. Oh, he is a very kind soul. A very open, alive soul.

Kry snorts. “Calm. Sure. Clearly you’ve never seen him after being rejected by someone.”

“Hey!” Felix says, indignant.

Nia’s concentration is broken again, and Felix’s hand is yanked away. She blinks back into reality only to sees Kry and Felix play wrestling. Xander rolls his eyes at them, but then looks back at Nia, ears swiveling forward and his brow furrowing with concern. “You okay?”

Oh, she’s breathing harder as her powers take a toll on her. But she doesn’t feel nauseous yet, which must mean she’s getting better! She gives Xander a smile. “I’m fine. This is already leagues better than I was a few days ago! Want me to check your aura, too?”

Xander blinks, exchanging a glance with Avery. Just as Nia’s about to reassure him he doesn’t have to agree, he nods. “You sure you’re okay? I don’t want you to push yourself too hard.”

For a moment, Nia’s thrown by the obvious concern in the luxio’s voice, and her heart squeezes with something fond—

(She said she wasn’t going to make strong friendships here, she can’t, she’s leaving, but—)

—but then she just laughs it off, shaking her head. “N-No, I’m fine. Really.”

Xander looks at her face a moment longer, as if he’s worried she’s lying to him and about to pass out. But then he nods and lifts a paw for her to take.

Nia smiles and closes her eyes, curious despite herself. She’s only known Xander for a couple of weeks, but the more auras that Nia reads the more interesting they become, the more exciting it is to reconcile them with a person’s outward personality. So she reaches out eagerly with her aura, ignoring the strain that she’d just reassured she wasn’t feeling, and nearly recoils in surprise when Xander’s silhouette lights up in a very distinct color. It’s not a deep, protective blue, as she would have guessed, or really any color that she would have predicted.

It’s bright red.

Red, like blood pulsing from a wound, but it doesn’t bring to mind pain or aggression. It’s the blood of a beating heart, it’s the red of passion and emotion, almost too bright in its intensity, almost volatile, and oh, she never would have guessed that this was such an integral part of cool and collected Xander, that he would feel emotions so strongly they hurt. His aura is the blood of a fierce battle, of a pulse pounding away to act, to protect. It’s the red of a heart willing to bleed out before losing those close to him.

A surge of what Nia now recognizes as concern flows through his aura and slams into her like a tidal wave. Nia feels herself physically knocked back from the strength of it, pulling her hands away to catch herself. She snaps back to reality, breathing hard and loud in the quiet of the room, her heart pounding.

Xander is watching her with wide eyes, one paw lifted as if he’d reached out to help but then feared making things worse. Avery is watching her too. The sounds of Kry and Felix’s tussling have stopped.

“Nia? Are you all right?” Avery finally asks, voice soft and level.

Nia swallows hard, her own heart just starting to slow from the overwhelming intensity of Xander’s aura. She looks at the luxio again, and that’s what finally prompts her to pant, “I-I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Xander asks. “I didn’t hurt you?”

“Y-Yeah, no, sorry, that was just, uh. Unexpected? You’re red, by the way.” Just saying Xander’s aura is red is the understatement of the century, but how is she supposed to explain what she just felt?

“Red?” Xander echoes, his stiff posture finally starting to relax again. Kry and Felix move closer to listen.

Avery hums. “Interesting. And that means?”

Nia fiddles with the collar of fur around her neck, gaze flicking up to the sun-washed ceiling as she thinks. “W-Well...I’m not sure how good I am at explaining it...”

“Wait, but you said green meant calm, right?” Felix asks. “Isn’t there like...a color cheat sheet or something? Like a list of what each color means?”

“Your green is calm,” Nia corrects. “The colors sort of tell me about someone’s personality and who they are, but I don’t think there’s like...a strict color-code?”

Nia looks to Avery for help, but the kirlia only offers a sympathetic shrug. Oh. Apparently their psychic powers don’t work the same way.

“U-Um. Okay. So for example, my aura is sort of a turquoise blue, but Avery’s is more purple, like a royal blue or indigo. Their aura feels...calmer than mine does, I guess? And Felix, yours is green because you’re so adaptable, like the trees. Very go-with-the-flow, but still sturdy and reliable. Someone else’s aura might be green too but feel super different to me.”

There’s a moment of quiet as they all digest that information, and Nia cringes. “...At least, I think that’s how it works.”

“So what did my aura feel like?” Xander finally asks. “Mine seemed to…affect you differently than the others’ did.”

Nia hesitates, still fiddling with her fur. How does she describe this? “Yours is red, but it’s red like…passion, I guess would be the word. It’s just really emotional? Kind of intense, actually. I’ve never felt someone’s emotions as strongly as I did yours. They kind of swept me away and knocked me right out of my aura state.”

When Nia looks away from the ceiling to gauge the others’ reaction to that, her stomach drops. Xander is staring at her in something close to horror, his fur lifting like a startled cat. She catches Felix shooting Xander a worried look. Wait, what…what happened? She just described his aura to him. Why does he look so upset?

Before the silence can grow too tense, Kry snorts and crosses her arms, apparently tone-deaf to the sudden shift of the room’s mood. “That’s a load of crap. Xander’s the most level-headed one here. Do mine next.”

Nia opens her mouth to say no, watching Xander back away with a gaze like he isn’t totally here. Avery and Felix exchange a concerned look before the kirlia moves to follow the luxio, approaching him with soft words and a hand soothing the spiked fur along his spine.

“Well?” Kry grunts, shifting to cut into Nia’s line of sight.

“W-Wait, Xander—”

“You admittin’ you were wrong?” Kry says, almost like a challenge. “Too afraid to read mine?”

Nia focuses on the fraxure, huffing in irritation. She just upset Xander—and something in her recoils at that thought, already flooded with guilt—and Kry hasn’t even noticed? Fine, if reading Kry’s aura will get her to shut up and move so Nia can check on Xander, she’ll do it. Nia closes her eyes and touches Kry’s open palm. She shoots her aura down her arm and into her paw almost angrily, and Kry’s energy flares to life. Once again, the color that she finds there isn’t quite what she’s expecting.

“You’re…gold,” Nia says. It’s the gold shine of priceless treasure, something proud and hard-fought. But it’s also the gold of armor, of a shield, determined and immovable. Protective. She feels the fraxure’s emotions shift too rapidly for her to catch, but she doesn’t really care too much anyways, with what’s happening to Xander three feet away. Nia pulls back and opens her eyes, meeting Kry’s hard stare with her own.

“So what’s gold mean?”

Nia frowns. “It feels...determined. Proud, I guess. I dunno, I’m not very good at this yet.” Nia’s attention is elsewhere, and she leans past the dinosaur to see Xander, only to find that Xander and Avery have disappeared from the room entirely. Felix meets her panicked gaze with a sad, soothing smile.

“Sorry, Nia, Xander just…had to get some air. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.”

“Wait, what…what happened?” Nia rasps. “Is Xander okay? He looked...”

Felix and Kry exchange a meaningful look. The wartortle nods, and Kry moves to start cleaning up the game abandoned on the rug a few feet away, completely silent. It’s such a shift from her aggressive prodding moments before that Nia wonders if the fraxure wasn’t as oblivious to Xander’s sudden emotional turn as she thought.

Was Kry distracting her?

“Nia,” Felix says, catching her attention again. He gives her a small smile. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just…accidentally brought up some unhappy memories for Xander.”

Nia wilts, her heart sinking in her chest. She really likes Xander—she didn’t mean to upset him! Why would learning about his aura have upset him so much? Is this what Val was warning her about, about using her powers responsibly? But she didn’t do it without asking. He wanted to know! Should she have not told him what she saw? But then she would have had to lie to him!

“I didn’t mean to upset him,” Nia whimpers.

Felix’s expression softens. “I know you didn’t. And he does too, don’t worry. But maybe for tonight you should head back to Maggie’s. C’mon, I’ll walk with you.”

Nia opens her mouth to protest—she doesn’t want to just leave without talking to Xander or at least apologizing to him! But Felix is already at the doorway to the hall, beckoning her with a twitch of his fluffy tail. He doesn’t seem angry with her, but it’s clear that he’s nudging her to leave for today. Feeling upset and a lot less proud of her aura abilities, Nia grabs her book and follows him out the door, shuffling up the guild’s stairs and hoping Maggie doesn’t ask her what’s wrong.

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #wartortle #fraxure #luxio #pokemon #pmd seekers of soul #riolu #kirlia #tesha draws #tesha writes

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stevenbasic · 3 years

Text

“Knock-knock!” I heard at the door of my office, startling me. I was nearly - jesus - an hour into this video call with the Study Coordinator from Evolution, and had obviously lost track of time. “Where’s my favorite patient?!?’ called the voice. It was Vida, my Nurse Practitioner, entering with a broad smile, a procedure tray and someone else and causing me to look up from my computer screen. “Time for your mediciiine…” In place of her usual white clinic jacket, she was wearing a tailored black jacket over a black, figure-hugging, dress, cut low.

Immediately I said my abrupt goodbyes to Gianna, over chat, and shut down the window right as she was, good lord, blowing me a kiss. At the same time I looked up and gave my wan smile of greeting to Vida and the generously curvy blond woman who’d entered with her…

“This is Morgan, if you two haven’t met yet,” Vida said, as she briskly approached my desk, high heels clacking. Trailing behind her a few steps was a woman in a white blouse and tan leggings - a big woman - broad of shoulder, wide of hip, huge of chest, standing taller than Vida by five or six inches...and myself even more, “She’s a Nurse Practitioner too, from Evolution until just yesterday, when she joined us.”

“It is very nice to meet you, Dr. J…” Morgan purred, in a voice deeper, richer than Vida’s. There was a queer smile on her face and a hint of a vaguely Eastern European accent in her words, one that she was obviously trying to hide. For now she was hanging back, taking her cues from Vida as the younger but more senior woman began to prepare her tray behind my desk to my left. “Nurse Vida is training me today how to take the care of you.”

“H-hi, uh, Morgan,” I replied, immediately sensing that that was not this woman’s given name, and remembering it was time again for my booster shot. The thought, for some reason, brought me a little thrill, remembering how it made me feel last week…but was it also responsible for the 8 pounds I’d lost since then? “But, um, what do you m-”

Interrupting my concerns, Vida chuckled. “Oh, don’t get worried, doc. I just figured that the more of us that know how to do this for you, the better,” she explained, opening the strange black box in which the vitamin B12/D/K booster vial was packaged. I noticed the familiar, strange blue tint of the liquid as Vida removed it along with the pre-packaged syringe. “And Morgan here has lots of experience.” At that, Vida nodded up at Morgan; the larger woman took that as a cue to move around the other side of my desk, to my right, and come to stand alongside me there. I was flanked.

“I-is that right, Morgan?” I asked, hearing the nerves starting to quiver in my voice. I hated needles, I hated them. But this single, combination shot was much better than three separate ones. “Wh-what did you do at Evolution?” I asked, not able to recall her resume as I looked up at her; she was gazing down at me, over the shelf of her formidable bosom. I was hoping that, if she had started seeing patients today, that she had been more buttoned up during the workday. The cleavage she was showing at this moment, over the neckline of her overmatched white blouse, was vast.

“At the Evolution Pharmaceuticals?” she replied, the accent in her voice unable to camouflage itself through the words, “There, I was with research team, taking care of study subjects. But before, I was in pediatrics ward, with preemies, the NICU.” She looked down on me with a crooked smile, and seemed to be resisting reaching out her hand to me. Instead, she ran her fingers through her shoulder-length blond hair. “I love holding little bodies.”

“Haha well, that’s exactly why we’re here, isn’t it, Dr. J?” Vida added, explaining to Morgan and pursing her full, plump, latin lips, “This young man has lost a few inches recently and we need to make sure he gets his vitamins.” With that, Vida beamed down at me and released her thick mane of dark hair from the conservative bun she’d been wearing for the workday. A wave of the now-ubiquitous perfume in this place flowed over me, and I felt a stirring between my legs. I had been intermittently hard during my video call with Gianna - her tits were unbelievable - and I was afraid now that I might swell to some obvious, inappropriate monster of a boner with these women so close. “Lucky for him he has his girls to take care of him,” Vida concluded. The vial and syringe, for the moment, laid inert on the tray.

I tried to focus. ”I, heh heh, don’t know if I need someone to ‘take care of me’...” I spoke, trying to sound relaxed as Morgan’s left hand finally did come to rest on my right shoulder. I’d honestly just met this woman, but she was being very…familiar. Vida as well; she was generally a bit more aloof than she seemed today. It was like there was something weird in the air, something bringing them closer.

“That's silly,” Vida responded, “Even doctors need someone to look after them.” At that, she began to remove her black jacket, and laid it on my desk, as if preparing herself for her task. Underneath she wore a clingy black tube dress that hugged her hourglass figure and revealed her trim shoulders and the upper swells of her full chest; she watched as I struggled not to look at her body. “Who do you see for a PCP?”

“uh…” I began, trying to recall my last visit to a doctor’s office outside of this one, “…no one?”

“You mean…” Vida asked with exaggerated concern, as she herself put a hand on my other shoulder, leaning in to me and twirling a lock of thick, raven hair, “you don’t have a Primary??”

“N-no I, uh-“

”Well, that’s no good,” Vida concluded, standing straight and looking across me at her fellow nurse, “Don't you agree, Morgan?”

”Oh yes,” Morgan concurred, her dimpled smile betraying her amusement, stepping a touch closer, “You need the primary...care...provider.”

“That settles it,” Vida decided, removing her right hand from me to place both it and her left one on her broad hips, in determination, “I’m going to be your PCP from now on.” Her action had drawn my eyes to her remarkably tiny waist and shit this girl had some curves. “I’ll contact our insurance company, do all the paperwork. How does that sound?”

The big woman to my right was giggling, and her hand had begun to idly caress my shoulder.

“Uh, th-that’s fine…” I agreed.

“So,” Vida finally asked, with a wry smile, “does my patient have any questions before we get started?”

Ugh, right…the injection. “Well, um, honestly…” I began, knowing I should at least address the concerns I had over this combo B12/D/K formulation, “I’m not sure it’s working. I think I’ve lost weight since last week, and even maybe almost an inch…”

“That’s ridiculous. You must have measured wrong last time, used a bad scale,” Vida replied, trying to reassure me, “But…do you think you need to go out and get checked..?”

At that, Vida herself moved in closer, and I saw Morgan, to my right, turn her thick body more towards me. Both women looked down at me.

“Or do you want to let us take care of you..?” Vida finished. It felt like a challenge, and I sensed something, an inner struggle inside myself. The logical, intelligent practitioner who cared for his health wanted to answer one way, bring a halt to something that was dangerous, possibly ruining my life. But another part of me, the one that was feeling the cock growing once again down my right thigh in tribute to the ever-more enveloping warmth of these women, just wanted to say-

“n-no…I think I’m alright,” I answered, “let’s go ahead with the shot. I’ll be fine.”

If I had known then what I know now, that my mental capacity for rational thought in the face of arousal had been already crippled by foreign agents? If I had known that I was being purposefully enslaved, drowned more and more every day in the sea of pheromones and womanly curves in which I swam? WelI, I would have run screaming. Or, then again...would I?.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Vida assured me. Her voice had dropped low, almost hypnotic, “You don’t need to go out and see any other specialists. We’ve got everything you need right here…” She was beginning to prepare the injection, now, drawing the blue liquid from the vial up into the syringe.

“Yes, everything,” Morgan agreed, looming over me now so close to my right, her hips and belly blocking out the world behind her. Her scent was warm, earthy. Between it and Vida’s reassuring tone, I felt powerless to do anything but trust these women.

“But,” Vida began again, inspecting the now-filled glass syringe, “if you are still shrinking, lots of guys would be jealous. Don’t you think, Morgan? Here, take this-” She handed a band-aid across me to her fellow nurse.

wh-what?

“Oh, yes,” Morgan concurred, her voice husky, unwrapping the band-aid, preparing it, “very jealous.”

”What…what do you mean?” I asked, confused, looking from one woman to the next, up at them. Without even being told, I had begun rolling up my sleeve.

Vida chuckled. “Oh, you know, the whole ‘vulni-chic’ thing,” she answered, holding the prepared injection now in her right hand, “you’d get very popular if you lost another-“

“One meter?” Morgan said, giggling in her deeper, richer tone, “Two?”

“haha I’d disappear…” I joked, feeling a wave of warmth coming from Morgan’s body to my right, “just like, haha…”

“It’s not a joke, Dr. J,” Vida said, her voice plain, suddenly, clinical, “it’s a thing. Here, get ready-“

“Ouch!!!”

She’d jabbed me, in the left shoulder, with the shot.

Vida spoke as she pressed the plunger, pushing the blue liquid into my deltoid. “It’s not just a fad for women, guys these days are admitting it, too…” she said as she drew the needle out of my arm. Immediately I’d felt it entering my body, like a milky warmth. “Good boy,” she praised, “Band aid?”

“Thanks,” I replied without thinking, watching as Morgan leaned her big torso across me as I turned in my chair towards her, presenting my left shoulder. She was nearly smothering me with her big breasts as she applied the bandage, and I did everything I could not to goggle at the wobbling flesh of her full, tan cleavage. My roving eyes made me realize that this generously endowed woman was wearing a very thin bra, or possibly none at all. Somehow, though, she was still so firm, with a natural buoyancy that kept her tits high and proud on her chest. My gaze could not get enough. But then eyes fluttered as I was assaulted by both an overwhelming breath of her perfume and the first rush of pleasure from the shot. I began to lower my sleeve, rubbing my arm as I looked up at her, smiling down at me as she finally stood up and away.

“I mean it, with the shrinking,” Vida started again, watching me with an appraising eye as I recovered from my shot, buttoned my sleeve, “have you seen Melissa’s new Instagram post?”

With the butterflies? I didn’t want to admit anything.

“The guys that follow her, the simps,” she continued, “they talk about wanting to be like bugs, crawling into her breasts.” She was replacing the syringe, carefully putting it and the vial back into the box. “It’s all over the place, everywhere, though no ones really talking about it yet,” she said, as she closed the black container, “guys wanting to be smaller, weaker than us. Wanting to become inferior, more passive, more submissive.”

She looked down at me and smiled, watching as the effects of the injection began to take hold. Even more strongly than last time, I was being gripped by a pleasant wave of lethargy, relaxation.

“Guys want to be small, these days,” Vida said, “and we’d like it that way too, wouldn’t we, Morgan?””

To my right I heard Morgan purr, a little grunt. “Yes, Nurse Vida,” she said, her voice low and struggling with arousal, “we would like it very much.” I had the feeling she was holding back her true feelings, in restrained understatement.

Vida laughed, casually. “It’s weird, all these changes in gender dynamics,” she continued, brushing a lock of my hair behind my left ear, “the new thing is bigger women, smaller men. Here, look at Morgan, perfect example…”

I turned, looked up at the smiling behemoth of a woman.

“She’s probably bigger than you ever were,” Vida continued, “taller, heavier, thicker everywhere.”

“Yes,” Morgan agreed, seeming to rise up, grow bigger, heavier, right in front of my eyes, “I weigh much, much more than the you.”

“And, you have to admit…” Vida asked, watching me look up at the huge, busty blond woman, who was now absolutely dwarfing me in my seat and could probably lift me like a child, “that’s kinda sexy, right?”

“I, uh….” I began, not knowing what to say. My erection was getting painful, now, contorted as it was in my pants, trying to stretch down my right thigh.

Vida spoke again, now holding my head in place by my cheek and jaw, so all I saw was Morgan. “So, even if you are getting smaller...lots of us would like that.”

I sat there, in the building afterglow of my injection, and looked at this woman’s body. It was, in all ways, so much bigger than my own. Thicker thighs, wider hips. Her arms were stronger than mine, her shoulders broader. Standing aside her, I would look puny. Even Vida - though she stood roughly my height, maybe an inch or two more - her hourglass figure and womanly hips made her body just that much more than mine.

”Dr. J,” Vida said, pulling me from my reverie, but not releasing my face from her hand’s gentle embrace, “You look like you need to go lay down. We’d take you up to bed ourselves but we have an important girl meeting to get to, don’t we Morgan?”

“Yes,” Morgan replied, though never taking her eyes or dimpled smile from me, “Very important.” I watched as she looked down on me, regarded me, considered me. “But I promise. Next time you can go to the sleep in my lap,” she said, “I have a very nice lap.” With that, Morgan bent at the waist a bit, to gently slap her prodigious thighs. My eyes watched them jiggle, and then her hands come up to the collar of her blouse, hoisting her breasts. “Or, if not on lap, we find somewhere else…”

“Haha okay,” Vida laughed, finally releasing my head but smiling as I didn’t turn away from the cleavage into which I was now dumbly gazing, in my vitamin-fueled haze imagining myself sinking into it like a caterpillar, cocooned in womanly warmth. “I’ll get a couple of the MA’s to get you upstairs…”

=========================================

more Vida & Morgan imagery, more posts, more more more at my Patreon.

Thanks for reading, everyone.

#growing into the job

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burntmcnuggies · 3 years

Text

HC: Hawks gets a pimple

Hawks x Reader

Warnings: fluff! Slight mention of suggestive sexual intercourse and cursing! But that’s it! Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.7K

Hawks was having a good morning so far. The sunlight peeked through the curtains of his spacious penthouse apartment, letting the orange glow illuminate the usually dark room. His avian like eyes peeked open, dark pupils shrinking at the sudden invasion of brightness. He rose a heavy hand up to block out the light, groaning in reluctance to rise from his comfy bed next to you. Both his eyes opened slowly, remembering that you’d spent the night with him. His golden hues focused in on your sleeping face beside him. He loved moments like these, waking up with you beside him —even though he had to leave you. It always made his heart swell with warmth.

Once he lazily picked himself out of bed, careful not to wake you, he sent a few sturdy feathers to collect the fallen ones he’d littered on the floor and to dispose of them. He gave you one last look with a satisfied huff and a genuinely loving smile. His light footsteps padded against the hardwood floors as he went to his closet and began to dress for the day, leaving his pants undone so he could take a leak before he left. He slipped into the bathroom and out of habit sparred a glance at himself in the mirror. His eyes shifted to the toilet until he froze. WAIT—

Hawks jerked back around to the mirror and rushed over to the reflective glass, eyes shrunken and horrified at the rather large white bump that protruded from his skin, an irritated flush of his skin surrounding the small pore. “No, no, no, no, no. Oh fuck, shit, what the hell is that?!” His bare hands rose to gently poke and run his finger along the pus filled pore. He winced at the touch and pain that swelled around his cheek. The dashingly handsome hero had no idea what was now stuck on his face, blemishing his sex appeal and pride.

In a fit of panic he flew to your side and shook you gently awake. “(Y/N). (Y/N) wake up! I need your help!” You stirred and groaned in exhaustion, cracking your eyes open to see your lover with a panicked expression. “Mmm... what’s wrong Keigo?” Your voice was groggy and tired, laced with drowsiness as your body threatened to lull you back to sleep. “There’s something on my face, I-I don’t know what it is. Can you help me cover it up?” Your brows knit together at the urgency in his voice. Why was he freaking out about some cut on his face? He got small scratches all the time. “Keigo it’s just a scratch. Just put a band-aid-“ “ITS WHITE. It’s not a scratch!”

Your eyes opened in confusion and the instant you saw his face your pupils narrowed in on the irritated red patch of skin that dawned his right cheek about an inch or two away from the corner of his lips. “Keigo that’s a pimple. It’s norma-“ “A PIMPLE?!?!” His loud shouting instantly woke you up, and your ears rung in slight irritation at the unexpected squawking. He was urgently pointing towards the small pus head, anxiously awaiting your assistance. “Don’t yell babe... it’s not that big of a deal, everyone gets them-“ “I’m the number two hero, I’m a model, I cannot have some... some white thing on my face!! What’re people gonna think? That I’m dirty? Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Never before have you seen Hawks so upset about something so small as a pimple. He did pride himself on his looks. He spent hours preening his feathers to have them look their best for the public to keep up his flashy reputation. He knows he looks good. Was this an insecurity seeping through?

“Should I pop it? Will that get rid of it?” He rose his hands up, ready to do the deed himself without hearing an answer. “No Keigo. That’s the worst thing to do. I know it’s tempting but you just need to clean your face and put some ointment on it.” “Can you buy it for me?” It was cute seeing Hawks so insecure about a pimple. Every gets them at least once in their life, it happens, but you’ve never seen someone freak out as much as Hawks over ONE pimple. “Sure babe, I’ll get you some. But you need to calm down, it’s not that bad-“ “I’m so ugly.” “...yes Hawks one pimple makes you the ugliest man in the world.” “...really...?” His wings dropped, looking at his reflection in horror and sadness. “Oh my god no. I was just kidding Keigo.”

“Don’t play with me like that. This is serious.” “And I’m serious when I tell you it’s gonna be okay and you need to calm down.” He still had a frantic look in his golden eyes once you told him to relax. He nodded and continued to eye the blemish in anger, hoping it would vanish if he glared at it enough. “Tell you what babe, let’s put a little bandaid over it with some Neosporin and you can just say got a little scratch from a fight with a villain. Sound good?” “You’re so smart, love bird. How did I get so damn lucky, or were you the lucky one? It’s always debatable huh?”

Once he was patched up and covered, he finished getting ready and kissed you goodbye, leaving through the balcony window. He ascended to the skies, wind bursting against his face and sweeping his hair back. His mind was still on the pimple that graced his handsome face. He brought his hand up and scratched his chin in thought. As soon as he got to his agency, he would look up all the fastest ways to get rid of a pimple.

“Hey love bird, did ya get the ointment?” “Yep, got it right in the cart.” Your eyes cast down to the ointment resting in the temporarily empty cart awaiting to be filled with groceries. “So I was thinking about what we should have for dinner tonight-“ “Can you pick up a few more things?” Your brows furrowed. “Like what?” “Face masks, face scrub, moisturizer, clay masks, oh! Get the charcoal ones too I heard those fuckin’ hurt but work good! Foam wash, some skin oil, sunscreen-“ “Keigo are you serious... baby that’s so much. It’s just one pim-“ “Sorry love bird, I gotta go, just use the black card okay? Love ya!” He hung up...

You did as he instructed and bought a lot of skin care products for him, along with some packs of chicken and some of his Georgia WAX coffee. Once you got home and put everything away, you started on dinner. It was rare if Hawks even got home on time, but you always made him some for him to heat up —if he didn’t get take out. To your surprise he came home quite earlier. “Hey love bird! Did ya get my stuff?” “Yeah, it’s all in the bathroom, babe.” “Hair clips?” “I already had some Bobby pins.” “You’re the best.”

When he emerged from the bathroom he had a charcoal face mask on, the messily long strands of blonde hair usually sticking up pinned down to his head and away from his face. You couldn’t help but laugh at the silly look on his face and the avoidance of his “manly” patch of scruff on his chin. “Were you worried it would take off your little beard?” “.....yes.” “I wish you’d shave, I hate it.” “Wh-What?! I thought you liked it!” “It looks like pubes on your face.” His face paled, well, as much as you could see. “Baby I’m kidding.” “Oh-“ he sighed in relief. “I was about to say there, you weren’t complainin’ when I ate you out last ni-“ “KEIGO!!!” He laughed at your embarrassment.

After dinner Hawks finally took his face mask off... or well he tried to. He was whining like a baby at how much it hurt. “Ow! Ow! Fuck! Why does it hurt so much?!” “You told me to buy it, you knew the charcoal one was gonna hurt you birdbrain!” “It said it would get rid of it fast!” “Who’s fault is that for telling me to buy it!” “It’s the internet’s fault for tellin’ me it worked fast!” Eventually you ripped the mask from his face and stared at all the tiny hairs and unnoticeable pores. “Hey look, it-“ you looked up at him and stopped once you saw his flushed red face. “Babe you okay?” “I can’t feel my face. Do I still have eyebrows?” You burst out laughing. “Yes Kei’.” “What about my scruff?” “Nope, gone.” “Liar.”

Afterwards you both put on some face masks and lathered each other up in some lotion in a very comforting way, not sexually, although he made some very sly comments that teetered on the edge. Against your wishes, you both ate some chips on the couch watching TV with Hawks shouting and throwing chips. “WHAT THE FUCK!!! THEY CANT KILL HIM OFF LIKE THAT!!!!” “BABE ITS A SHOW!” “ITS MY FAVORITE SHOW HE WAS MY FAVORITE CAUSE HE WAS HOT LIKE ME!!!” You rolled your eyes and sighed heavily at his cute childish antics. His eyes moved over to you, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“I love you, birdie.” Your cheeks flushed. “I love you too...” “Ah, after three years of dating, a year and a half of livin’ together, and you’re still embarrassed with me tellin’ you I love you? We’ve done worse ya know~” “Shut up. You’re... never around much anymore, and it always makes me happy when we spend time together, but... confessing your feelings... it’s a different kind of happiness all together. Words can’t explain how much your words mean to me.” His expression turned sullen. “(Y/N)...” “And I know it’s cheesy, it’s stupid, but... it’s how I feel... knowing you still love me even when we’ve been apart for so long... I love you, Keigo. Whether you have a pimple or not.” He frowned, eyes narrowing. “You ruined it.” “Really? Damn. Nothing gets past you does it?” You both shared in playful laughter until the masks were ready to come off.

The next day his skin was clear, surprisingly, perfect and smooth with the exception of his patch of scruff. He had taken a day off work, which was a bit odd but, heroes need a break too I guess? “Mmm... good mornin’ birdie~” His deep morning voice rumbled against your ear, shaking your core and making a small tingle twinge in the dark pits of your stomach. “M-Morning.” His lips littered the side of your jaw and down your shoulder. “Are you ready for our fun day off, love bird?” “Yeah, I’m uh... pretty excited.” “Oh yeah? Well...” His hand slowly slipped down your night gown, trailing his fingers sneakily to the hem while shifting his fingers up. He pressed into your skin to slip a hand into your panties, but you quickly stopped his hand. “Later.” “Whyyyy?” He whined. “Unlike you, I have work.” “Oh don’t worry! I already called ‘em and them ‘em you were spendin’ a day off with me for... personal reasons.” “........” “I-I love you...?”

Hawks still ended up being cock-blocked that morning, but he was awarded some juicy chicken with a side of pancakes. The morning was full of playful banter, loving gazes, and small kisses. “I booked us a massage today.” “Oh really? When’d you do that?” “Yesterday after I called your work.” “They let you have an appointment last notice?” He laughed. “I am the number two hero, and there are some benefits to being the most popular and handsome man in Japan.” “I think Best Jeanist tops you.” “Why must you always be so mean to me, Birdie.” “I’m mean cause I love you.” “That’s not how that works.” “...” “...” “Keigo.” “I know, I know, we won’t talk about it.” He’s playfully mean and teasing because he loves you too.

Later that afternoon you arrive at the spa and everyone is gawking at Hawks. Who wouldn’t? He is the most handsome man in Japan like he said. Oh, let’s not forget the glares some of his fangirls gave you, it never failed to make you a bit uncomfortable. “Hey there, we’ve got an appointment for two, a couples massage.” “Oh! Y-Yes Hawks everything is ready for you!” “Ah! Great! Thank you sweets~” He cooes out and sends the lady a friendly wink as she left. His slung his arm protectively around your waist and he kissed your cheek. You pouted. “It’s unbelievable what you can do with your charm.” “Tell me about it! I get a lotta free stuff; discounts, free reservations. All that stuff, comes with being so popular, ain’t that right?” “Fuck off.”

The massage was wonderful, absolutely amazing. It took a lot of the stress off your shoulders and gave you a bit of time to just relax and think about nothing. Your mind was blank, enjoying the silence and feel of someone else’s hands just rubbing the pain and stress away. There was also a very fashionable and professional facial. It was then you realized it. “Hawks, did you book these massages just to get the facial for your skin?” “Well yeah, how else am I gonna keep the pores away?” “You do realize I bought you like- tons of stuff for home right?” “Yeah! But this is more relaxing dont’cha think?” “Well... yeah but-“ “Just hush and enjoy the massage love bird.”

You were going to kill him. Bury him six feet under, you wouldn’t even attend his funeral. He wouldn’t even have a funeral you’d hide the body so well. The massage and the facial Hawks had booked cost way over $2K dollars. But with Hawks and his grade A flirting and charm, the price was knocking back to just $1.95K on the bright side... he saved you $500. Even though he paid. “Hawks why did you book such an expensive massage!” “Well, I really wanted the facial but I got more for the bundle, so I just went with that and decided to relax! You can’t tell me you didn’t like it, love bird.” “Of course I liked it, but just don’t spend SO MUCH money. All this over one pimple!” His face flushed. “Keep it down-“ you burst into fits of laughter at his embarrassment, you couldn’t help it.

He wore face masks everyday after the pimple incident and lathered up lotion before bed, making him all slick when he cuddled you. It was such a clear insecurity you never knew he would have, it was honestly very cute. At dinner when he finally returned home, he heaved a heavy sigh of exhaustion. “I’m home love bird.” He called out with a smile. You approached him immediately with his little face mask and gently pinned his bangs back, putting the cool moistened mask onto his smooth face. “Oh? What’s this? Givin’ me some special treatment tonight? What’d I do?”

“You’ve been freaking out the past couple days, so I figured I’d help you out just a bit.” A smile spread over your lips as you helped him out of his hero jacket, leading him down the hall to the bedroom. He laid his head against your lap, wings nudging your knees on either side of you while he laid on the bed calmly. “Thank you love bird...” “You don’t need to thank me, Keigo. And just so you know...” You leaned down and gently pecked his lips, giving him a sweet upside down kiss. “I love you cause you’re you, not because of your looks. It doesn’t matter if you’re covered in thousands of scars and pimples or whatever! As long as you’re my birdie...” His wings fluffed up, eyes going wide. “I’ll love you forever, my avian mate.” It was silent until he spoke up in a very flustered tone.

“...” “...” “Can we fuck?” “You ruined it, Keigo. You ruined it.”

#my hero headcanons #my hero academia #hawks headcanons #hawks bnha #pro hero hawks #hawks x reader #silly headcanon #bnha keigo takami #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader

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rosaliepostsstuff · 4 years

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Little steps | pt 1 - Admiration - George Weasley

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader (though very subtle in this one)

Summary: You’re friends with the golden trio (you might even say golden four in this one) and you join them when they go to the Quidditch Cup final.

Word count: 1,5k

A/N: ok, so, it’s my first ever fic, so I’m not sure how it came out, but I couldn’t help myself to not post it and find out what people may think. It’s pretty slow I think, but just because I didn’t feel like diving head first to the good bits I have in mind, I needed the sort of intro, and if it’s generally any good, hopefully there’ll be more?? looking forward to feedback, the good and the bad. And english is not my first language so sorry if anything sounds funny

1994 Saturday, August 24th

You arrived at the Burrow in the afternoon, along with Hermione. It was the day before the Quidditch Cup final, Ireland vs. Bulgaria. Although your brothers were also going, you decided to accept Ron’s invitation as it would be more exciting and give you a chance to do something new with three of your best friends. You had to admit, you didn’t expect Hermione to come, as she wasn’t the biggest Quidditch fan, but the idea of such a huge event, gathering wizards from all over the world must’ve been too tempting.

You had to admit that evening was filled with excitement, you and your friends tried to casually hang out like you have many times before, but your thoughts always seemed to look forward to waking up Monday morning and heading out for the event.

The next day at five o’clock the boys – Ron, Fred and George went to pick up Harry from the Dursleys’ place. You wondered to yourself whether all of them going was really necessary, or how bad could it go. But there was also a part of you that was just curious what would come out of it. And so, you were currently sat at the table, talking to Bill and Charlie. Pretending you’re not waiting for the party to come back.

You didn’t have to wait long. First, it was Fred, along with his smug expression. You couldn’t help but look at him curiously. He caught your eye and understood, but didn’t say anything. He just smirked, gave you the smallest nod and looked away, as if telling you to wait. So you did. A minute later came George, carrying a trunk which you recognised to be Harry’s. The moment he appeared, he was grinning, stumbled out of the fireplace with the trunk. He left it on the floor and high-fived Fred, now both twins already laughing. Then arrived Ron, his reaction similar. Your curiosity almost overflowing at this point. Soon, Harry fell out of the fireplace, Fred reaching out a hand to help him up. -Did he eat it? – he asked Harry. Who could he be asking about? And what did he eat? -Yeah. – Harry answered, getting up. -What was it? -Ton-Tongue Toffee. George and I invented them, we’ve been looking for someone to test them on all summer…

The boys started laughing, and you couldn’t help but chuckle too. -What exactly happened?! – you asked, looking between them, your eyes stopping on George for no reason at all. He grinned at you, then looked at Fred and they chuckled. You might’ve gotten an explanation if it wasn’t for Mr. Weasley’s arrival.

-That wasn’t funny, Fred! – he shouted. He looked angry, and you’ve never seen Arthur Weasley angry before, even with twins’ antics. It led you to wondering how often it happened. - What on earth did you give that Muggle boy? -I didn’t give him anything - said Fred, with another evil grin. – I just dropped it… It was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to. -How big did his tongue get? - George asked eagerly. -It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it! - Harry and the Weasleys roared with laughter again. You were starting to put the pieces together. -It isn’t funny! - Mr. Weasley shouted. -That sort of behaviour seriously undermines wizard–Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons- -We didn’t give it to him because he’s a Muggle! - said Fred indignantly. -No, we gave it to him because he’s a great bullying git, - said George. -Isn’t he, Harry? – You were almost certain they were talking about Dudley, Harry’s cousin.

-Yeah, he is, Mr. Weasley, - said Harry earnestly. Pranking people wasn’t new to Fred and George, and you had to admit, you didn’t always find it funny. But the fact that Harry never asked for any type of revenge on the git, yet the twins simply listened to his - sometimes subtle, sometimes not so much – complaints, gave you a new portion of admiration for the lads. Or maybe it just reminded you how much you already did admire them, even if you never said it out loud. -That’s not the point! -raged Mr. Weasley. - You wait until I tell your mother- -Tell me what? - said a voice behind them. Uh oh. Mr. Weasley didn’t know what to do, after all he didn’t really want to tell Molly. She inquired further. Hermione came in to the room behind her, quickly sensing what was about to go down. And so – you, the girls, Harry and Ron bolted upstairs with an excuse to settle Harry in.

You walked downstairs to help with dinner after the fight seemed to have stopped. Molly asked the girls to set the tables outside, so you did it, but while you were still close enough to hear, you listened as she complained about Fred and George, maybe more to herself than to Harry. How disappointed she is, how they’re wasting their brains, and how they’re not going to achieve anything or where things had gone wrong. You listened, and couldn’t help but feel a tiny pang in your heart – and the voice in your head that started to defend them. But after all, it wasn’t your problem.

The next morning, you were woken up by Mrs. Weasley while it was still dark. You definitely did not get enough sleep, but thanks to the adrenaline, you didn’t notice, though you’d certainly notice it later in the day. Your friends were all groggy, and after having breakfast you left – but not without Molly confiscating some more of twins’ Ton-Tongue Toffees they were surely hoping to get away with and sell.

The walk wasn’t too long. You were supposed to take a portkey on one of the hills near Ottery St. Catchpole. You weren’t the only ones, though. Amos Diggory appeared with his son, Cedric. -Hi -said Cedric looking around the teens, and all except for Fred and George (who were holding grudges after being defeated by Hufflepuff quidditch team the previous season) replied. -Hey, Y/N/N – he said, smiling kindly at you. You didn’t miss the look Ginny and Hermione exchanged. You knew Cedric. He was tall, handsome and smart – the golden boy, and the two of you shared a friend circle.

When you arrived at the campsite, you were all positively overwhelmed. You took in your surroundings, met some Hogwarts friends and settled into your tent. Inside, waiting for the match, you were hanging out in smaller groups. You got up from the chair you were sitting in to grab some water for yourself. Walking into the small tent kitchen, your thoughts still in the conversation you had with Harry, you bumped into someone’s chest. You looked up to see the face of your victim -Oh, sorry George! my bad - you said quickly and were about to pass him, when another long-haired ginger appeared behind his shoulder. -You so sure about that, love? – said Fred, smirking. -What, that I’m sorry? I mean it’s not like I knocked him off his feet but… - you said, well knowing where he was going with it. You knew damn well which was which. The three of you rarely spoke directly, often hanging out with the rest of your shared friends. But you always saw them. In the very beginning, when you started being friends with Ron and met his older brothers the young girl in you was excited for attention from boys who were two whole years older than you – which seemed basically adult at the time. You liked them both and couldn’t decide which one more. Through the years, needless to say, you calmed down a bit. You also got to know their respective personalities and although your childish crush never got serious, you were still happy to receive any kind of attention – from one of them this time, George. They gave each other the look and both stepped to the side to let you pass, which you did. -Didn’t think you’d be so sure about telling us apart, is all – said George. A slight disappointment. You decided to turn the funny on. You feigned hurt, put your hand up to your heart and looked back at them -That’s sad! I know you don’t talk to me as much but I still know you – you turned more serious. With a small smile, you said -And I like to think we’re friends. It clearly took them a bit by surprise. -Yeah.. Yeah, we are, of course. -Said Fred, nodding. George nodded too, with a kind smile on his face. With that, they left.

It wasn’t long before the match began. The events that followed. Now, you were just looking forward to being back at Hogwarts and find out what kind of surprise everyone was whispering about.

Part 2

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #x reader #harry potter imagine

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poodlejoonas · 3 years

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Niko - Thoughtful Disasters

For @bcfanweek Day 2: Niko

Words: 1,382

Description: Niko’s no professional baker, but he wants to make your birthday a special one.

Notes: Niko Moilanen/Reader (gender unspecified)

Niko was panicking just a tiny bit. He’d been so busy with the album recording lately that he forgot that your birthday is coming up in less than 12 hours. He meant to buy you a legitimate present but it totally slipped his mind. Now here he was, stuck trying to read a cake recipe under his kitchen’s shitty lighting and throw you together a makeshift gift.

You loved Niko, but you also knew that he was the worst when it came to remembering dates. He once sprung anniversary dinner plans on you at 3 PM and he picked the first random place that came to mind. Sometimes he even forgets about Christmas, and finds himself working in the studio at the stroke of midnight on New Year's. You've grown accustomed to knowing that if it was an important date, Niko would probably miss it.

You were still at work and wouldn’t be coming home until later. In the meantime, Niko was pondering over all the ingredients he would need to bake. He was squinting trying to read his own messy handwriting when he received a phone call from Joel asking where he was.

“I’m uh… at the supermarket. Do you know how to bake a cake?”

Joel sighed from the other end. “You forgot their birthday, didn’t you?”

Niko hung his head in shame and remained silent for a solid 10 seconds. “I know, they’re probably going to kill me, don’t you think?”

“I doubt it. They’re pretty chill, but if it’s that big of a deal, I can come over and help.”

“Please do,” Niko begged, which made Joel laugh out loud.

“It’s that bad, huh?”

Not even an hour later, Joel was pulling into Niko’s yard ready to help. The two vocalists met in the kitchen, where Niko had already haphazardly thrown the ingredients into separate bowls. To call it a mess would be a disrespectful understatement. There were bits of egg shells on the floor and flour coating the counters. It was obvious that Niko had tried to scoop the excess flour into his trash can, but his fingers left streaks across the dark blue counter. The chocolate powder was its own mess, as he’d already tried to mix in milk before the rest of the ingredients. Niko’s normally black t-shirt and basketball shorts were coated in flour, and some of it turned the tips of his hair white.

Joel paused and took a good look around the kitchen. “Jesus Christ, dude,” he muttered. “Did you murder the Muffin Man in here?”

"Shut up," Niko whined. “I had to scroll through this bitch’s life story to even get to the recipe and I got annoyed.”

Joel snickered and shook his head. “Of course you did. Anyway, let’s throw all of this together. You have a cake beater, right?”

“A what?”

“You know, the thing that goes…” and then proceeded to make a series of mechanical and whooshing noises.

“Oh, that thing- FUCK, that’s what I forgot.”

Joel would be more sympathetic if he could only stop laughing at poor Niko’s plight. He looked stressed making up for almost forgetting your birthday again, but Joel could tell that he wanted to do his best for you. He always thought that you two made a great couple. Behind Niko’s gritty exterior was a man who had a heart for his partner.

“Okay, so I guess I’m gonna…” Niko contemplated using his hands to mix the bowl until he realized that it was going to be a bigger mess than the one he’s already made now. Instead, he grabbed the wooden spoon and began to sift it until it started blending in. “How long should I do this?”

“Until it looks evenly mixed.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

Niko was unsure if he brought Joel over for help or just the banter. The older vocalist cleaned up the mess while Niko continued to stir the spoon. At one point, he almost lost his grip on the bowl and spilled its contents onto the floor.

“Want me to finish it?” Joel offered, seeing that he needed a minute to relax. Niko almost immediately accepted his offer and took a break to check his phone and sip some water. He nearly did a spit take when he saw that you were coming home from work earlier than planned. Something about your manager being nice enough to let you go early so you can begin celebrating your birthday. Your work place was only 20 minutes from home, and you sent the message 7 minutes ago.

“Dude, kill me.”

Joel looked up from the bowl to find a slightly panicked Niko realizing that the kitchen was a mess, dinner hadn't even been started, and the cake still had half an hour left on it before it was done. There was no way he could laugh at him now. “Hey, calm down. Maybe you can order something in? You know they’re not picky about what they eat.”

“I know, it’s just… I feel like such a dumbass because I can never remember the important stuff. I think they should just dump me at this point.”

“Hey, that’s not true! Sure you forget things, but you’re still so genuine when you do things for them. I was talking to them a few weeks ago and they had nothing but glowing things to say about you.”

Niko was listening but his mind continued to race. But it was comforting to hear from someone else in the band that you speak so well of him when he’s not around. “I get it. I just hope they like the cake later.”

“I’m sure they will. Now, let’s get this in the oven and then we can think about dinner.” With 10 minutes left until you came home, the cake was baking and the kitchen was being cleaned. You walked in on the two of them putting away the cleaning supplies and chatting happily as if nothing had just happened. Niko tried to give you a hug but all you could do was laugh as you got a good look at his flour-stained clothes.

“Oh, yeah… let me fix that.” And without another word, he was off to change clothes in your room.

Joel stood in the kitchen with a knowing grin. He said he’d come over to help him put together a “surprise” for you. He didn’t say what it was, but the smell from the oven gave it away. Niko returned and proposed the idea of ordering Chinese food, which you happily accepted since you had Hunan chicken on your mind for a while. The both of you offered to let Joel stay for dinner so he wouldn’t have to drive all the way back to Helsinki tonight. Joel chose to play bartender while the food was on its way.

The three of you were several drinks and large dinner specials into the night when suddenly the smoke alarm began to beep. Niko sprang on instinct once he remembered - fuck, the cake! The chocolate cake blackened around the edges and crumbled under the impact of the cutting knife. The music stopped and the only sound was Niko groaning. He looked beyond done with the situation.

“Love?” you asked quietly.

“I’m sorry I ruined your birthday,” he apologized profusely. His eyes were sympathetic and he looked like he wanted to shrink away from everything. You just held him because there was no resentment for him at all.

“You didn’t ruin a thing, kulta,” you whispered. “It was really the thought that mattered. Besides, you do so much for me every other day of the year, so what’s wrong with a day where we just get to chill?”

Niko leaned up and thought about it. “That’s true. Do you want to do anything tomorrow?”

“Just a movie and some leftover Chinese food with you.”

The moment between you was touching, and then Joel spoke up. “I can go back home tonight if you lovers are getting any ideas.”

You and Niko laughed. “Nah, we just need you here to make more drinks for us.” Your birthday hadn’t come yet, but this was already a great start. Good food, a good friend, and a boyfriend who only wanted the best for you.

Endnotes:

I wrote this on the 4th of July when I was hungry and had Chinese food on my mind but everywhere around me was closed. Consider that a self-insert too.

#bcfanweek #blind channel #niko moilanen #blurbs #niko is big of heart and dumb of ass #but i love him for it

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obwjam · 3 years

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stowaway (bad batch x tiny)

this piece is titled: the bad batch s1e1 “aftermath” except instead of omega it’s a tiny who was a stowaway on their ship from kaller and they discover her on the way back to kamino and now they have to hide her from everyone

(bad batch spoilers included so if you care pls watch the ep before reading!)

———————————————————————

Truth be told, Jara was just as confused as the rest of them.

It was nothing atypical. Battle droids on one side, clones and Jedi on the other, all screaming and firing blasters and blowing everything to hell. Though tinies were often isolated from everything, the Clone War was the exception.

Which is why it was time for her to leave. Again.

She had already lost countless friends and family throughout her life with no massive conflict in her backyard. At this point, she just had to look out for herself; not to mention the horror stories of what happened to tinies when captured by the Separatists were at the forefront of her mind. So when she found an empty ship in the woods, she smuggled herself inside and went about observing the place. There were unopened rations and some rather awful-smelling clothes scattered about, which told her that this ship was definitely not abandoned or out of commission. There were no droids, either, so she had to assume it was a Republic ship. Perfect. Wherever it stopped at next, she would sneak off and see if she could find some other tinies to settle with for a while.

Just her luck that the clones who owned this ship were, well… these guys.

“Whatever’s happening here, I don’t like it.”

She gasped and ducked behind an object on the table when she heard the voice.

“Best not to worry about it until we get back home. Plotting coordinates now.”

She cautiously leaned out from behind the object to get a better look. There were five people -- clones, she inferred from the armor, but they didn’t really look alike at all. One with goggles was piloting the ship, while a bulky one with a big scar was slumped over in the chair adjacent to him. The other three were exchanging distressed looks between themselves and the floor.

“How long’s it gonna take?!” the bulky one groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. She flinched.

“Wrecker, please.” This one had long hair and a tattoo covering half his face. “Just relax a little.”

“Maybe you can relax, Hunter, but I wanna keep fightin’!” Okay. He was Hunter, and he was Wrecker. Not exactly the type of names you’d want to make enemies with.

“Hunter’s right. We could all use a breather after… well, after what just happened back there.” This one was pale and had a bunch of cybernetic attachments on his head. Ick.

“Hmph.” The last remaining clone, who had grey hair and a toothpick hanging from the corner of his mouth, grunted in displeasure. Hunter didn’t seem to like that.

“Got somethin’ to say, Crosshair?”

Crosshair folded his arms and didn’t say a word.

It was a fairly short, uneventful ride. The group mostly sat in silence, occasionally sharing a thought or two as they saw fit. There seemed to be a bit of tension, though, as Hunter and Crosshair kept exchanging pointed glances.

There was an uncomfortable lurch as the ship dropped out of hyperspace. Jara yelped and stumbled forward, but nobody noticed.

“We’re coming up on Kamino,” the pilot said. Hmm. Kamino. She had never heard of it.

“It’s good to be home,” Wrecker sighed from the passenger chair. “How long has it been?”

“One hundred and eighty rotations in a standard cycle…” the pilot started, and that was when Jara zoned out again. He sure had a penchant for droning on and on.

“You sure that padawan died when he fell?”

Her stomach dropped as she snapped back to attention. Wait, padawan? Died? Why did they need to make sure a Jedi was dead?

“Sure I’m sure. Why?”

“Well, usually when someone falls, you look down, not… across… uh, what is that?”

She froze. Even through the helmet, she knew Crosshair was staring right at her. She could tell because she couldn’t stop staring right back at him. Her mind told her to run, but her legs wouldn’t respond. She thought she was hidden -- only a little bit of her was poking out from behind the object she had settled down behind. But all it took was one passing glance for Crosshair to spot her. She was practically pinned down by his gaze as the others, minus the one piloting the ship, followed his stare to where she stood, shaking.

“What’s what? I don’t see anything,” Wrecker whined, standing up. She gulped. He was huge.

“There,” said the pale one, robotic arm pointing right at her. “Behind one of Tech’s… things.” Even through her terror, she managed to sniff a laugh. Tech is a ridiculous name.

Wrecker tilted his head and squinted, but it didn’t take long to find her. “Oh. Oh. Woah…”

“Don’t,” Hunter warned. He stuck his arm out in Wrecker’s direction as he inched closer to the strange, cowering girl in front of him. “We don’t know what it is.”

“What what is?” came the voice of Tech from the cockpit. He quickly set the ship to autopilot before excitedly bounding to where the other four were standing to see what was going on. “What are we looking at?”

“On the table,” Crosshair muttered. His piercing gaze didn’t waver for a moment. Her eyes flickered over to Tech, whose own eyes were wide as he finally saw her. He reached for his tablet and furiously began typing into it.

“It’s… it’s a tiny,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, we can see it’s tiny,” Wrecker frowned.

“No, Wrecker,” Tech shook his head. “That’s what their species is called. They’re a… a race of miniature humanoid beings that inhabit thousands of planets across the galaxy.”

“Oh…” Wrecker was at a loss for words. Never in his entire life had he seen something so small. So vulnerable. He took a few cautious steps, and Hunter grimaced at the way she seemed to shrink back as he approached.

“Come on, Wrecker, don’t get too close.”

“Why not? I can barely see the little guy!”

“Girl.”

“What?”

“I… I think it’s a she,” Tech said, his goggles whirring as they analyzed her.

“Does she speak basic?” the pale one asked. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, either.

“I’m… not sure. There’s not really too much data here… height ranges anywhere from two to five inches… there have been some documented cases of tinies living well over 100 years…”

“If they’re all over the galaxy, why have we never seen one before?” Hunter posited, trying to keep his voice low. She clenched her jaw every time one of them spoke.

“...And why is this one on our ship?” Crosshair asked pointedly, narrowing his eyes. Her stomach began to turn.

“Why don’t we just ask?” Wrecker proposed. Hunter and the pale one exchanged an uncomfortable glance, but Wrecker didn’t wait for permission. He closed the gap between him and the table and took a knee.

Her grip tightened on the object as she craned her neck upward. Even when he leaned down, he still towered over her.

“What’s your name, little guy?” he practically yelled at her, making her wince and look away.

“Wrecker, can’t you see she’s terrified?” Hunter groused.

Crosshair rolled his eyes. He didn’t feel right about this “tiny” being on their ship. For all they knew, she was a Separatist spy. “Enough of this,” he grumbled. He lunged forward with an outstretched hand, ready to get to the bottom of his, but stopped short of her when she pulled out a weapon, pointing it at them with shaking hands.

“DON’T!” she yelled, stunning the five clones in front of her. They were not expecting to hear her voice, much less see her unsheathe a sword that had no chance of harming anyone. “I--I’m sorry, I--I just needed to get off Kaller, please, I wasn’t going to -- I wasn’t gonna take anything, I swear! Just -- just stay back!”

She couldn’t believe this. She had never been seen before. Not once in her entire life. And here she was, finally able to escape that wretched cold planet and start a new life, and now she was going to be caged and sold on the black market like every other tiny was when they were discovered. Or maybe these weird clones would keep her as a prize.

Hunter blinked. Her tiny little sword was adorable, and there was no way it would ever make a dent in any of them. But he at least admired her ability to stand her ground. He couldn’t blame her, either -- being stared down by five enhanced clones had to be nothing less than horrifying to someone so small.

“Hey, relax… we’re not gonna hurt you,” Hunter said calmly, holding up his hands. “We just want to know who you are and what you’re doing on our ship.”

It took her a moment to stabilize her breathing, but she was able to gather enough strength to wipe away the tears she barely even realized had formed in her eyes and fully take in the giant in front of her. He was certainly terrifying by virtue of the fact that he was leaning so close to her, but the curiosity in his eyes… the way his mouth hung slightly agape… the softness of his expression… he was just confused. It was the same look she was giving him.

“I… I--I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I just... I had nowhere else to go…”

“Were you running from the Seps?” the pale one chimed in.

She shrugged. “I was running from the war.”

“Is Kaller your home planet?” Tech asked, popping into view behind Hunter.

She shook her head. “I’ve been planet-hopping my whole life. I’ve just been on Kaller for a really long time. I’m not really sure where I’m from.”

“Hey, you never answered my question!” Wrecker cried, cutting off Tech, who was preparing to ask a follow-up question. “What’s your name?”

“My name’s Jara,” she said, voice quavering. Wrecker’s eyes lit up when she spoke -- he was just happy she was addressing him. “I, uh. I know all your names,” she managed to say. “Except you.”

The pale one was taken aback. “Um. I-I’m Echo.”

“Echo,” she repeated. That was nothing like the other four names.

“If you just stumbled upon our ship, how do you know our names?” Crosshair asked, eyebrows raised as he dared to lean in closer.

She let out a nervous laugh. “You-- you all said each other’s names in conversation. I just connected the dots.”

“Hm.” Crosshair wasn’t sure if he believed that.

“Lighten up, Crosshair,” Hunter grumbled. “She’s obviously not a threat.”

“That we know of.”

“Well actually, according to this data, tinies appear to be a peaceful, primitive people,” Tech said. “They have little to no means to inflict any meaningful damage upon us or anyone else.”

Jara scrunched her face up and glared at Tech. “Yeah, well, you don’t need to say it like that,” she mumbled. She was surprised when Hunter snickered.

“So you really came to our ship just to flee your planet?” Wrecker asked in a rare moment of calmness. He couldn’t stop staring at this tiny girl -- he was surprised she even managed to stay alive long enough to find someplace to hide. But now that she was here, well, he felt as if it was his responsibility to keep her safe. Even the smallest of creatures could be deadly to her.

“Yeah,” she said, taking a few shaky steps forward. “I--I just needed to get somewhere safe, that’s all. Maybe find some more tinies. I was going to leave right when you landed somewhere, honest.”

“Well, there certainly won’t be any tinies where we’re going,” Tech scoffed.

“...where are we going?” she dared to ask.

“Kamino. Our home planet.”

“More like a factory than a home,” Hunter mumbled. Jara stiffened. That did not sound like a place she wanted to be.

“There is no we here,” Crosshair scolded, glancing around at his brothers. “There is no place for you there, tiny. It’s just the clones and the Kaminoans. You wouldn’t even survive the night.” He paused, taking in the looks of apprehension from everyone. “What? We’re not seriously going to take her with us, are we?”

Hunter grimaced and shot Jara a look that said sorry about him. After a few beats of uncomfortable silence, Tech spoke up.

“...maybe just until we get sent on another mission,” he said, uncharacteristically meek. “I mean, there are so many questions I want to ask. This could be our only chance to gather data.”

Jara rolled her eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

“What are we gonna do, Crosshair, make her stay on the ship? There’s nowhere else for her to go.”

“She should have never been here in the first place,” Crosshair mumbled, clearly outnumbered in his opinion.

“But she is. And she was just trying to save herself,” Echo added. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I say we help her while we can.”

“Wrecker? What do you think?” Hunter asked, turning to the largest clone. He had been strangely quiet for the last few minutes.

“Huh? Uh, yeah, yeah. We should help,” he stumbled. “I don’t see anythin’ wrong with that.”

A loud beep echoed from the cockpit, prompting Tech to shoot up from his seat. “Strap in, boys. And, uh, girl. We’re coming in for a landing.”

Jara stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do, until a giant hand was placed at her side. She yelped.

“Climb on, kid,” said Hunter, fully aware of how spooked Jara looked. “I’ve gotta hide you somewhere.”

“She can hide with me,” Tech piped up from the front. “I have some space in my belt.”

“You okay with that?” Hunter asked. Jara’s glance shifted from Hunter’s face to his hand to Wrecker and back to Hunter.

“Um. Sure,” she said weakly. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“Nope!” Wrecker beamed. “Unless you want the entire clone army to know you’re here!”

“...The belt sounds wonderful.”

“Good.” Hunter stayed patient as Jara gathered up the courage to willingly climb onto a human hand. She took a few deep breaths and clenched her fists before shutting her eyes and leaping up to his palm in one try. Hunter sniffed a laugh.

“I’ll go slow,” he said, gently standing up and taking careful strides toward Tech. Jara tried her best to stay still, but Hunter could both feel her tension and her trembles. Once the ship was parked, Tech flipped open the flap to one of his belt pockets. Jara grabbed onto Hunter’s thumb when he lowered his hand down and hesitated for a brief moment before climbing into the pocket. Everyone was watching her, and she didn’t like it.

It was hard to hear what was going on outside, but as the group made their way through the hangar and back to their barrack, she was barely able to make out the words “Grievous”, “defeated” and “over”. Did that mean what she thought it meant?

Light flooded her vision once again when Tech’s giant hand snapped open the pocket. Without really thinking, he reached down and scooped her up, causing Jara to yelp and grab onto one of Tech’s fingers for dear life as she was pulled up at a breakneck speed.

“Oh. Sorry,” Tech blushed upon seeing her sickened face. The way she was clinging onto him was nothing short of adorable. “Guess that was a bit sudden.”

“A warning next time would be *hic* nice,” Jara groaned. “Oh, stars. This place smells worse than the ship.”

“Told you,” Crosshair grinned, nudging a sad-looking Wrecker.

Echo leaned down. “You’ll get used to it.”

Jara gave a weak smile before turning her attention to Tech, who was beaming down at her. Sitting in his hand, she really had no choice but to endure his questions.

“So, goggles. What do you wanna know?” she asked, knowing such a question would make Tech explode. And it did. Even Hunter was starting to get sick of it after Tech had asked every question and written down every note he possibly could.

“What about special skills? Do you have heightened agility, superb senses? Anything like that?”

Jara shrugged. “I mean, maybe. I dunno. I don’t really know what’s… normal.”

“Hmm…” Tech wrote her answer down word-for-word. “What if we tried--”

Across the room, Wrecker had finally lost it. “Ugh, can somebody shut him up?! I can’t take it anymore!”

“Of course you wouldn’t understand the importance of--”

“--I think he’s right, Tech,” Hunter jumped in. “You should give her a break.”

“And give us a break,” Crosshair mumbled to himself.

“I-it’s okay,” Jara interjected. The last thing she wanted was to become the center of another conflict. “You can ask me more stuff later. I don’t mind, really.”

“Later…” Tech repeated. “So, what? Are we going to keep you?”

“Keep--keep me?” Jara gulped, her eyes flying wide.

“I think he means let you stay here with us for a little longer than a night,” Hunter said. “Right?”

“Well, since we have to go to that meeting soon, and then who knows what we’ll be asked to do after, I just assumed she meant she would be staying with us for a while, considering there are multiple tests I need to run now. Not to mention all the questions I’ll surely have after that.” Tech paused, giving a look of hurt to the group. “I thought that was obvious?”

“Tech, come on, you’re freaking her out!” Echo cried. He was right. At the mere mention of the word test, Jara had tensed up again. “Can we even do that? Actually harbor a stowaway with us?”

“It’s definitely against regulations,” Hunter mused.

“...so we gotta do it, right?” Wrecker jumped in with a big grin. “I mean, come on! She has a tiny sword! That’s awesome!”

“Well, I guess that’s up to her,” Hunter smiled, turning his attention back to Jara. Her gaze was bouncing back and forth between all five clones, though it was obvious to Hunter that she was trying to avoid looking at Crosshair. “Whadda ya say? Do you wanna lay low with us for a while?”

“You really mean that?” she asked, overtly aware of the fact that this could be a trap. After all, it was clear one of them didn’t like her. But the others… Tech was overzealous, sure, but he was earnest in his curiosity and desire to simply know more about her. Echo was definitely reserved, but seemed to be just as concerned for her as the others. Wrecker was just a big ol’ kid. He seemed to like her just fine. And Hunter… well, Hunter couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He was rational. She knew he believed her story, however unbelievable it may be.

Hunter nodded. “Yeah, I do. I can’t guarantee anything, but we’ll try and keep you safe until we can find you a better place to live. I should warn you, though. Our squad’s nothing but trouble. It might get dangerous.”

“The only thing I’ve ever known is danger,” she shrugged. “And I’ve stayed alive this long.”

Wrecker let out a bellowing laugh. Even though it shattered her eardrums, she couldn’t help but smile back. “Ha! I like her!”

Jara didn’t say it, but in that moment, everyone seemed to pick up on it. She liked them too.

#i dont really like the way this turned out lmao but i wanted to post it anyway #cause i made a commitment!#i've got some anakin and obi-wan content coming the next couple days #and i wanna save one more bad batch piece for friday when we get ep 2 #i just need to get back into the writing spirit it's really been a while since i've felt comfortable??#ugh anyway watch bad batch it slaps #wrecker is my new fave he is just such a big goof #star wars g/t #g/t #obwrites

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weirdsideblog · 3 years

Text

Untitled Vore Story Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Still not st*rker, still for @whisperingphantasm

Peter trusted Tony. Of course he trusted Tony. He’d jumped off buildings with empty web cartridges because Tony said he’d catch him, and he always did. If he said this was safe, it must be.

So why was he still so scared?

Well. Peter looked around. Where should he start?

He had settled himself against the wall of Tony’s stomach, which moved disconcertingly like it was trying to push him farther along, but it was nice to have the contact anyway. Otherwise he just felt lost. He felt a bit lost anyway, thinking of how small he was. There was no way Tony looked any different from the outside, so to anyone who saw them, it wasn’t them at all; Peter didn’t exist anymore, as far as the rest of the world was concerned.

Which would really be the case, he thought uncomfortably, if Tony hadn’t apparently been blessed with digestion-stopping powers or whatever was keeping him alive right now. He touched the slimy wall, because Tony, it was Tony, who wouldn’t hurt him. Peter wanted to talk to him, just to get some kind of response again, but Tony had his hands full thinking of how to get them out of the trunk of a car, so he was quiet.

...

He felt when Tony made his escape. (Their escape?) It was all a little mixed up. At any rate, he was thrown around quite a bit before he managed to stick himself somewhere, undoubtedly quite the stomachache now.

“You’re safe, kid.” That was Tony’s voice, loud but strangely muffled above him.

“Mr. Stark!” It was so good to hear from him for real, Peter wanted to jump into his arms right then and never let go.

“You’re safe, I promise you you’re safe. Pete, I’m so sorry, I should have warned you before.”

“I’m okay.” Peter felt weak with relief all over again. It was Tony, he was right there talking to him and telling him he was safe, and Peter wasn’t forgotten.

“I’m taking you back to the tower, and then I know exactly how to reverse their shrink ray.”

“Thanks.” Peter liked the way he said that. Taking him back, because he was a separate entity and Tony was just carrying him.

“You’re safe with me.”

The wall pushed in on him and Peter jumped before he realized what it was, Tony’s hand rubbing at him from outside. That was a weird thought. Peter’s own stomach flopped, and he wondered what it would feel like to have a whole other person in there. He’d just worry about them the whole time, probably.

“You’ll be back to normal before you know it,” said Tony, walking now, by the feel of it.

It was certainly something for Peter to know that and be carried along with him with absolutely no say in the matter. But if he could trust Tony not to digest him, then surely he could trust him not to kidnap him.

“Sorry about this, too. Usually I could undo the shrinking myself, but since it wasn’t me who did it, we’ll have to use some tech of our own.”

“Wait, you can shrink people?”

“Uh-huh.”

Peter pondered the implications of that for a second. “So you could just eat me any time you wanted and I never knew?”

“It’s not something I usually go around telling people, for obvious reasons, but I should have let you know, just in case of something like this.”

“No that, uh, that makes sense, I’d probably be freaked out,” said Peter. “I am freaked out, but you know what I mean.”

“You’re taking it well.”

“Really?”

“You’re calm, at least.”

“Well you said it’s safe.”

Tony’s heart sped up momentarily. “That I did.”

…

It was definitely weird to be in the lab but not be, well, in the lab. Sort of. All that stuff about who was where doing what was still confusing.

“Alright, reverse shrink ray,” said Tony. “Shouldn’t take long to put together at all, and then you’re free.”

“O-oh?”Peter had personally expected to be set free as soon as they got back, and his heart lurched a bit.

“Until I have a way to undo it, you’re safer like this. I don’t need you falling off a tabletop or getting chased by a spider or something.”

“Oh.” Peter hadn’t thought about spiders. Still, a shiver ran down his spine at Tony just deciding how long to keep him.

“You good with that?”

He could have said no. He almost did, just to see what Tony would do, but logically, he knew he was safer where he was. And really, he had no great desire to be alone at this vulnerable size, even if the alternative was incredibly weird. “I’m okay.”

“Good.” There was a strange thump as Tony patted him. “I’ll be quick.”

Peter leaned against him, safe from falling or getting lost or huge spiders, and a whole lot of other things, too. It was almost comforting when he thought of it that way. Very secure, at least. Really, completely surrounded by Tony, Peter didn’t imagine he could get much safer.

“It’s a little bit nice.”

“What?”

“Uh.” Peter hadn’t realized he’d said that loud enough for Tony to hear. “I mean, it’s not completely terrible.”

Tony chuckled around him. “I’m flattered.”

“I don’t wanna do this again,” Peter added quickly.

“I doubt we’ll have to.”

“Good. I’m going to shower in bleach as soon as you let me out of here.”

“You do that.”

…

Being coughed up was about as pleasant as being swallowed, with the only bonus being that at least he was about to be free. Thankfully, it only lasted a few seconds, and then Peter was squinting in the light, held gently in Tony’s hand once again. The air was beautifully fresh and clean and not humid, but it was cold, and he shivered.

“You alright?” Tony asked, now leaning over him.

Even though he’d just been inside him, Peter had forgotten how big the man really was. Tony would never hurt him, but the sight of such a giant looming over him made him still made Peter feel a bit like running away. He gave him a thumbs up anyway.

“I’ll bet you don’t want to stay tiny any longer than you have to.” Tony was already setting him down. “Hold still.”

Peter braced himself, there was a small noise, a strange weightless sensation around his whole body, and then he was sitting on the floor opposite Tony, back to his regular size. The light had either dimmed or he had gotten more used to it, because he could remove his hand from his face and actually get a good look at Tony, who was watching him with an expression he couldn’t read.

“Hi,” said Peter.

“Hi yourself.”

Peter made the mistake of looking at Tony’s middle, and his own insides swooped.

“You’re safe, remember?”

“Yeah.” Peter couldn’t stop staring. That was hard to get his head around, that he’d actually… “Yeah, that’s good.” He laughed slightly at the utter strangeness of the whole situation, scooting closer to Tony out of whatever instinct it was that always told him his mentor would make it better. “Can I just, like-“

Tony wrapped an arm around him (very kindly, considering how gross he was at the moment) and Peter melted into him. He might have technically been safer a minute ago, but hugs felt safer.

“Good?” said Tony, and Peter thought he might have sounded just the tiniest bit amused.

“Mm.” He pushed his face into his mentor’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry about all of that.”

“I mean, you didn’t have a lot of choice.” Peter wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist and held on. “Can we not do that again?”

“Hopefully.”

That wasn’t the most positive answer, but Peter would take it. Impulsively, he put a hand over Tony’s stomach.

“That’s weird, kid.”

“You wanna talk about weird?”

Tony laughed.

“Not bad weird,” said Peter a little too quickly, and now Tony was probably going to think he was weird. “Just weird weird.”

“You continue to flatter me.”

“Well it’s a little bit cool. I don’t wanna do it again, but it was like, you.”

Tony’s heart sped up exponentially, and his arms tightened around Peter. It did have to be a pretty good feeling, Peter thought, knowing someone felt that safe with you. He might as well go all the way with that; few people were able to make Iron Man melt, and Peter took a bit of pride in being one of them.

“I mean, it was really scary and I was pretty sure I was gonna die at first, and I never, ever want to do it again, but then it was okay because…” He struggled to explain himself as non-awkwardly as possible, because even if he was going straight for Tony’s heart he still had some dignity. “Because if anything was going to get me it would have to be you, and you said you wouldn’t, so it had to be pretty safe, right?”

As predicted, Tony’s heart rate was off the charts, and he snuggled (he’d hate it if he knew Peter chose that word) Peter close. “What am I going to do with you, kid?

“Let me take a shower now?”

Tony laughed. “Good plan. I may need one too after-” He gestured to Peter’s still-wet hair and clothes.

“Sorry.”

“It comes with the territory. People get clingy,” said Tony. “Besides, this time I’d say I deserve it.”

Thanks for reading, lovely friends! (One more time, not st*rker, surely everybody knows that)

#v.ore #v/ore #avengers-vore #avengers vore #marvel vore #soft vore #safe vore #g/t vore #protective vore

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jadethest0ne · 3 years

Text

In need of Refueling, Chapter 7 - Disappointment

Summary: “You?! Why would I trust you? You have brought me nothing but failure. Time and time again; nothing but disappointment!”

His father’s words might have been a result of his possession by the White Bone Spirit, but whether or not they were his true thoughts, Red Son vows to prove them wrong. To do so he seeks to attain a power strong enough to destroy his father’s immortal enemy. After all, he’d much rather throw fire at his problems.

Word Count: 2578

Ratings/Warnings: Teen and up; injury, burns, angst and hurt/comfort, toxic thoughts caused by toxic parents, Panic Attacks, Abuse (this one also just added)

Notes: This is the chapter in which Red Son realizes that he messed up. Also, fun fact! I looked it up and the exact name for the power of DBK's armor is called "ergokinetic absorption!"

Credits: Big thanks to @painted-arachnid and @simplyfornardo for helping me bounce ideas off of them. And also thanks to @lemonsqueazie for providing me with “Journey to the West” lore. I don’t know much about the original novel or other iterations, but I still tried to keep some things compliant with the lore. You should check all of them out, since they’re really great content creators with neat ideas!

Read on AO3

———-

Red Son brings the defeated Monkey King to his family’s lair. He carelessly deposits the unconscious body just outside the Flaming Foundry, but finds himself hesitating before entering. Right, this is a big moment. He had subdued his father’s greatest enemy. Maybe he should think of some grander, more dramatic way of presenting the Monkey King to his father. Maybe he should do some grand fire display, part the fire like curtains, and take some sort of bow? Perhaps that was a bit too flashy? Or not flashy enough? You certainly don’t casually go up to the great Demon Bull King and plop his greatest enemy down in front of him? Do you? What would his father like the most? Red Son finds himself pacing back and forth in front of the entrance mulling these things over. A few sparks of fire spout unbidden from his hair and fists. He tries to quell the flames, but they seem to rebel at his thoughts. Between his mutterings and attempts to reign in the fire, he doesn’t notice the figure that approaches him until his thoughts are interrupted by a booming voice.

“Red Son, what are you muttering about this time?!” growls the Demon Bull King.

“F--father!” Red Son squeaks out. He hadn’t even noticed that he had been talking out loud. He wonders how much his father had heard. Well, might as well lean into it. He straightens up pulling a confident smile on his face, and twirls around letting out a little bit of fire to spiral in his display. The flames sputter a bit, as if mocking his half-hearted attempt at bravado, but he grins through it. “Hello Father! I am here to present to you, your greatest foe!” He skirts out of the way and makes some tiny fireworks around his prize. “The Monkey Ki---”

“Sun Wukong?!” DBK says in surprise.

“Uh, er, ye-es!!” Red Son falters a bit at being interrupted. “You see, father, I brought him here for you!”

DBK comes closer and starts inspecting the Monkey King. He blinks and shifts his attention to his son. “You?!” he says incredulously. “You can’t be serious?! Is he… dead? How? He is immortal!”

Red Son quickly corrects, “Not dead, no! I spared him for you father! I defeated him and brought him here to deal with as you wish! And I beat him... with this!”

Red Son quickly summons some blue fire to his palm. “The True Fire of Samadhi! It can’t be extinguished unless I put it out! I’ve got him immobilized with it!” Red Son says, proudly puffing out his chest.

DBK looks Red Son up and down, narrows his eyes, and huffs out a snort. “You really did this for me?”

Red Son’s confident pose wilts ever so slightly at his father’s tone, filled with suspicion. “Of-- of course, father!”

A large shadow crosses over Red Son’s slowly shrinking form as DBK towers over him menacingly. “Or did you do this for yourself?”

Red Son’s voice involuntarily goes up an octave. “I, um... am not sure what you mean.”

DBK lets out a humorless chuckle. “Are you sure you didn’t just do this to try to prove your dwindling worth? Because how can you think that this is something I’d want? Wukong is someone that I want to defeat. Myself. Defeating him like this, in such a sorry state? Do you not think I could face him at full power myself?!”

“That- that’s not what I meant at all, father! I-I…” Red Son is now cowering underneath the angry stare of his father. “True, I did want to show my... my usefulness! But, I only wanted to help--”

“Oh please, my boy!” Princess Iron Fan appears from behind DBK with both of her arms behind her back. He hadn’t noticed her presence. She looks over all three of them with an air of pompous derision. “It is poor form to defeat someone else’s mortal enemy!”

DBK gives a nod and a grunt and stares harshly down at his son. “You continue to be such a disappointment to me, Red Son.”

Red Son’s breath momentarily catches in his throat. He stares down at the ground, his mind gone blank. He doesn’t know what to do; what to say. The words alone stung, but the pure derision in his father’s voice hurt more than expected. How had he messed up so bad?

“I--I--” Red Son has to swallow to clear his ever tightening throat. “How-- can I make this up to you, father?”

“Hmmm,” DBK lets out a thoughtful grumble.

“Well, we can’t very well just let the Monkey King go!” Princess Iron Fan says thoughtfully. “We can’t let this opportunity go to waste. It might not be the way you wanted, dearest, but we can still rid ourselves from our biggest threat!”

DBK nods sagely. “I suppose so. But I would rather have a fairer fight with him. Red Son, can you put out the flames, so he can at least wake up and defend himself? There is no pride in this.” He gestures at the unmoving form of his enemy.

“Of-- of course, father!” Red Son frantically tries to concentrate to extinguish the flames that are still burning on the Monkey King’s side. He tries to take a deep breath, but he’s still reeling from his father’s words. Was he really doing this to prove himself? No, he really wanted to be useful to his father. But was that selfish? His father seems to think it is. The fire doesn’t go out, and instead flickers and burns brighter eliciting a shout of pain from Wukong. “Wait, wait, I- I just need to--” Controlling the flames was suddenly harder. Why did he think he could impress his father this way? With fire that he could barely control! Maybe it would have been better if it had been his father who-- Suddenly a thought crosses his mind, and as it did, the flames died down slightly. The idea was kind of scary, but maybe it would be a way to make this whole mess up to his father.

He looks to his father with a sudden seriousness, readying himself for what he’d say next. “I think I know how to make this up to you father…”

DBK gives him a puzzled look, but says nothing allowing him to go on.

“What if I gave you the Samadhi Fire? You can absorb it with the armor I gave you. That way you can be the one who wields the fire.”

A grin spreads across DBK’s face. “Yes… YES!” he says triumphantly! “That is a great idea!” Red Son feels a flutter in his chest that maybe he finally was able to provide something that his father approves of. Something to finally aid him, give him the tools he needs for destruction! Who better to wield the fire than his own father, after all?

As if to echo his thoughts, DBK says, “After all, I’d be able to wield the fire with much more skill than you, surely. My more powerful body would be able to handle it more.”

Red Son’s smile wobbles a bit. True, he had that exact same thought, but hearing his father say so makes something in this chest tighten. He brushes that feeling away, and situates himself proudly in front of DBK, ready and willing to give him the power that his father deserved!

“Anything for you, father!” Red Son says proudly, confidently. Despite the fire inside him resisting, as if recoiling at his command, he summons the fire to his palms and pushes outward as DBK activates his armor’s absorption abilities.

At first, the flames go in smoothly and calmly. Then Red Son feels a tug, he feels almost like he needs to take a step forward, as the fire is pulled with more force into DBK’s chest-plate. But that’s okay, any discomfort that he feels is fine. He wanted this and it will help his father. So he buckles down and pushes out more flames for his father to absorb. The technology that Red Son made for DBK is strong though, and the pull gets more and more powerful. It’s starting to feel uncomfortable, almost...draining. Red Son has to tell himself to not slouch. But he feels a small sense of relief as the flames finally change from blue to red, and he knows that his father has absorbed everything of the True Fire of Samadhi.

However, the pull on his flames does not stop.

“Wait… father…?” Red Son starts to protest. “You’re finished, you can stop, now…?”

But DBK doesn’t seem to have any intention of stopping. Blue flames swirl in his eyes, obscuring his vision. He growls angrily, almost as if he is in pain. “Such… power! So much!”

Something must be wrong. Red Son tries to put out his flames, tries to disconnect the path as his fire leads to the center of the armor. But he can’t. His fire keeps getting yanked in that direction and the feeling of weakness, of being drained, becomes stronger. He bends over, tired, his eyelids are threatening to slip shut. “Father… stop… please!” he begs, the sudden bout of weakness preventing him from thinking straight, all pretense of being a strong and proud son lost. His fire keeps getting drained away and he can’t stop it.

Princess Iron Fan steps in and lays a hand on DBK’s arm. “Dearest, you are behaving strangely. Stop that now.” DBK spins around, waving her off harshly. She has to step back and take up a defensive position. However, this movement seems to be enough to finally break the chain of fire that is being absorbed into DBK’s center, finally releasing Red Son from the pull.

With no more forces in play, Red Son leans forward and his knees wobble dangerously, nearly bringing him to the ground. His eyes droop tiredly and his entire body feels like jelly. A chill goes up and down his spine as he realizes that he’s suddenly very cold. He hugs his middle as if to try to keep any heat from escaping. His brain doesn’t really want to work and everything just feels wrong. He becomes aware of a prickling sensation on the back of his neck, and he sluggishly turns his head to look. The sensation moves and he realizes that it is his hair, which usually sticks upright, that is tickling the back of his neck. Before he can ponder that, his focus is drawn to yelling.

It is his father. DBK is shouting angrily, eyes literally ablaze with blue fire, and flames spouting from his mouth. He seems almost feral, rabid. It’s similar to how he was with the White Bone Spirit possessing him. He breathes flames around with no direction in mind; wild and unfocused. Princess Iron Fan has to jump out of the way of some of the blasts.

“It’s too much! Too much power! I can’t--- It burns! Everything burns! Everything else must burn!” DBK shouts. His eyes focus on Red Son. “YOU!” he snarls.

DBK stalks close to Red Son, who can’t do anything but stand there on unsteady feet and just wait for what is to come. Princess Iron Fan tries to jump in close to stop him, but DBK’s flames block her movements, and her wind attacks do nothing but stir up more fire. DBK reaches out a hand and snatches up Red Son around his arms and torso. He begins to squeeze. Hard.

“You did this to me!” DBK growls “You just want to show that you’re better! That you can control this better! That you can defeat my own enemy!”

“N-no, father--” Red Son tries to protest, but his voice is halting and weak. It cracks under the pressure on his body, and under the very weight of his own words that he can barely get out. “I just wanted--” He can’t finish. He doesn’t know what he wanted. Not this. He didn’t want this.

DBK squeezes harder, Red Son’s breath gets pushed out, and the pressure on his arms and chest are unbearable. He hears something crack. Somethings crack. But before he can even register that, pain flows in a rush of wind as a gust of blue flames envelop him. If Red Son could spare a thought, he’d think it was ironic to be burned by his own fire. He supposes he deserves it at this point. But all thought leaves him and is only left with HURT. Everything hurts! He’d scream except that he has no more air to scream with, and he can only press his forehead against the large gauntlet that is holding him as his only way to brace himself against the pain. Unconsciousness is almost about to overtake him when he hears a yell.

“STOP!”

The flames, thankfully, do stop, and the grip holding him loosens just enough to allow air to fill Red Son’s lungs. He pants tiredly, and shallowly, each breath bringing a sting of pain to his sides. His head still rested on the large hand, he rolls his head over to look toward where the voice was. To his surprise, he can see Wukong, still on the ground, still with his side on fire, looking up at DBK with a fire in his eyes blazing brighter than the flames burning his side.

“Your beef is with me, DBK, not him!” Wukong says, propping himself up on his elbows.

Red Son is not sure whether or not he feels more confused, surprised, or ashamed at being defended by an enemy. An enemy that he himself put in that situation. How weak must he appear that he’s being pitied by someone in that terrible state? He hates it. He hates that his plan didn’t work. He hates that his father finds him such a disappointment. He hates that he gave his father an unruly power that put him in this condition. And he hates that everything is now literally burning up in his face. He hates himself.

“Sun Wukong~” DBK breathes gutturally. Everything else seems forgotten to him as he turns towards the Monkey King.

He then yowls and charges at the Monkey King. In this motion, fire spins around him, throwing Princess Iron Fan back, and flinging Red Son away. Red Son flies across the now flaming area, meeting the ground a few times before smacking into a nearby building with such force as to leave a crater in the wall. He drops to the ground in a limp heap, landing on his chest, and once again, the wind is knocked out of him. His eyes are half-lidded as he sees his father’s charge be suddenly stopped as a form lands on the ground in between them. An angry wind whips around them causing DBK to come to a halt. Red Son’s eyes become blurry, but he forces them to focus just to see this newcomer.

Of course, he should’ve known that that little pain in the butt would appear eventually. It’s the Noodle Boy. Red Son is in pain, and tired, and his eyes are threatening to close, but he’d recognize that annoying face anywhere. Though this time MK’s eyes are filled with more anger and hatred than he’s ever seen in them. It’s that anger, that hurt, that Red Son sees last before his eyes finally slip shut and darkness finally overtakes him.

start || <– previous // next –>

#lmk #lego monkie kid #in need of refueling #red son #dbk #demon bull king #princess iron fan #pif #monkey king #injury #fire #burns #abuse #emotional abuse #my writing #my fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #jadethest0ne

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badsext · 4 years

Note

Hi! May I request something smutty with Robert Sheehan? Maybe their first time and the awkwardness of it? The reader is shy and feels self conscious, when she is a centre of attention, so she asks him to masturbate for her? And then maybe some straddling, but with thigh riding and slow fingering? And he's cool with her not being cool with penetrative sex on the fist time? Probably some praising with zero degrading? Sorry, if it's too specific. I like your writing, please, keep it up! 💙💙💙

Masked Hearts: Robert Sheehan x (fem) Reader - Part 2

Link to Part 1

Author’s note: I decided this request would make an appropriate continuation of Masked Hearts because the reader is shy.

———————————————————————————————

The feel of the kiss lingers on your lips as Rob moves down to your neck and his hands find your breasts. “Rob?,” you whisper.

“Yes, love?” He responds casually.

“I um...” You pause to take an anxious breath. “When I invited you home I may have gotten in a little over my head.”

“Oh my god.” Rob pops up to meet your gaze. He tucks his hands under his arms and takes a step back. “I’m so sorry. I was reading this situation all wrong. The way you touched me in the hall...I thought you wanted to have sex. But don’t worry. We can just hang out or I can go. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“I want to...I’m just sort of...inexperienced...I’m not ready for it all at once...Do you get what I’m saying?”

“Oh no...how old are y-“

You cut him off. “I remember nine eleven and I’m paying off student loans,” you reply with a bit of snark.

He chuckles. “Okay. I had to check.”

“I’m just shy.”

“We can work with that.” He gently strokes the side of your face. You instinctively look away. Your cheeks are red hot.

“My bedroom is this way,” you say, breaking the silence. There you go again, writing checks you can’t cash. Rob takes your hand and walks with you, then sits next to you on the end of your bed. Your room suddenly feels foreign to you with him in it.

“Is it okay if I kiss you again?,” he asks. You nod. He leans in and kisses you slowly with his lips slightly parted. Your mouth responds and as you begin to relax, your tongue joins with his in one continuous exploration. You want so badly to touch him again, but you don’t know where to start. Your hands reach out, hovering in the air before coming to rest on his shoulders.

Rob reaches for your sides, just above the waist. Then he tugs lightly at the bottom of your t-shirt. You shrink back slightly and he retreats. He breaks away from the kiss and rests his forehead against yours. “Too much?,” he asks, his voice low and breathy.

“I’m just nervous. Let’s start with you. I know YOU’RE comfortable taking your shirt off.”

“Ah, you’ve seen my work,” he smiles.

You giggle nervously. “I have.”

Rob sheds his tank top. Taking in the sight, you glide both palms over this smooth chest and inhale deeper to steady your nerves. Your hands travel lower to fumble with his belt. You are so nervous, you can’t make sense of it. “Here,” he says sweetly capturing your hand. “I’ve got it.” He unbuckles and unzips his pants. His erection is large, surprising, but then you haven’t seen enough for comparison.

“Could you show me how you...um...you know.”

His expression turns vulnerable. “I know this is going to sound odd, but I’ve never done that for anyone else before. This will be a first for me.” He stands up. “I just put my hand out like this and sort of thrust into it. I grew up Catholic. There were no instructions, so I just did what made sense to me, what felt good.”

He looks to you for reassurance then begins thrusting into his hand just as he described, his face growing more intense. You stifle a nervous giggle bubbling up inside your throat. It fades into a tiny gasp as you imagine him thrusting into you, a thought that is both thrilling and terrifying. The wetness between your thighs is suddenly more noticeable and you long for him to touch you there.

Rob bites down on his lip then releases it with a breathy little grunt. He uses his opposite hand to catch the glistening white dots. You feel your own muscles clench in response. He looks up at you, catching his breath. The lust you are feeling must surely be written all over your face.

“I uh...where do you want this?,” he jokes, holding out his cupped hand. You laugh, realizing his predicament and reach for some tissues in the nightstand. You clean him up, leaning in to kiss him tenderly, so moved by his willingness to be vulnerable for you. It makes you wonder if you could be so uninhibited.

“I’m going to need a minute to rest,” he says, pulling up his underwear. Do you want to lie down together?”

You nod and climb into bed beside him. He turns onto his side to face you. You gather your courage and turn to face him as well. Rob has such a beautiful face. You lay there marveling at the oceans of green in his eyes and the soft, rosy pillows of his lips. Even after what you just experienced, you remain incredulous. You reach out with your fingers to lightly touch his lips, to prove to yourself he’s not an illusion. He kisses your fingertips with his eyes locked on yours.

“You’re beautiful, y/n.”

“Okay. Stop.” The good feelings start rushing out and the shame starts rushing in. You sit up and turn away to hide your face.

“Why? Why is that so hard to hear?”

“How about years and years of people repeatedly telling me I am not?”

“Well, fuck, y/n! They were wrong!” He sits up behind you grasping your shoulder.

“Please don’t play with me,” you choke, fighting back tears.

“Let me put it this way. When you walked into that cafe, I noticed you immediately. Even with a mask covering half your face, I found you fascinating. I was so happy you decided to stay and talk to me. I worried I was going to scare you off and here I am doing just that. Fuck! I’m sorry. I don’t know how to convince you-“

You stop his mouth with a deep and assertive kiss, lifting your leg over his to straddle him. Rob looks a bit shocked, but pleased with your sudden change of heart. “Mm. I like this,” he says looking up at you, lightly stroking your back for encouragement.

Comfortable as they are, the thickness of your jeans makes it difficult to move in this position. “Damn, I should probably lose these jeans, hu?”

“Couldn’t hurt,” Rob smiles in agreement.

You stand up and remove the troublesome denim and your t shirt as well. You do it quickly before you can talk yourself out of it. Now wearing just your pink panties and bra, you climb back up and hover just above Rob’s naked thigh. His knee is slightly bent like a naughty little seat. You are already quite wet from watching Robbie cum, so wet, your cotton panties are practically glued to your pussy. Rob chews his lip in anticipation. You lower yourself down, ever so slightly grazing your clit against his thigh, teasing yourself until you find the perfect angle. Rob is captivated by your slow controlled movements and quiet sighs.

You see by the bulge in his underwear that watching you ride his thigh has gotten him aroused again. Rob catches you leering. “See what you do to me?” A proud little smile breaks out over your face as you continue to ride harder and faster. A tight little tingling sensation starts growing at the swollen source of your desire. Rob gently bounces his leg to meet your thrusts. Soon the waves of pleasure consume you, blocking everything else out and making you squeeze and buck and squeal. You twitch and sigh and slowly open your eyes.

Rob is simply laying there with his mouth open. Orgasming with an audience has left you so vulnerable and you find yourself embarrassed. Your head sinks as you climb down off of him with your arms crossed over your breasts.

“Oh my god, y/n that was incredible,” he says.

You look down at his thigh, the scene of the crime. It is covered in your slick juices. You cringe then look back at him to gauge his reaction. “How did that feel?,” He asks, cupping your chin in his hand, looking you in the eye.

You take a deep breath...”So good,” you answer softly, but honestly. “Do you want me to clean that off for you?”

“No, I’m keeping it,” he smirks. You can’t help but laugh. He’s already learned how to smooth your anxiety with a joke. You settle down beside him on the bed facing the ceiling. The flesh between your legs starts begging for more stimulation.

“Rob?”

“Yes, love?,” he responds, propping himself up by his elbow and wrapping his other arm loosely around your waist.

“Will you touch me...there?,” you ask meekly, staring down at the fountain of yearning between your legs.

“Of course, love,” Rob whispers in your ear. He tickles a trail all the way down your abdomen inspiring a series of quick and audible breaths. His long fingers settle first outside the wet fabric of your panties. You can feel their warmth as he paints them slowly back and forth. He kisses you on the temple and nuzzles into your hair. You gasp in frustration as his fingers travel back upwards, then moan softly as they target your nipples beneath your satin bra.

Rob heeds your subtle protest and walks his fingers back down to your satisfy your primary needs. He slides his big soft hand under the elastic waistband to gently cup your pussy. Your grooming habits are not exactly standard, but Rob is pleased with the conditions he finds there. He sings his approval with a happy little hum. Using two fingers to delicately glide over your clit, his movements form a slow circle, building anticipation with each pass.

“You want more?,” he asks softly.

“Mm...yeah,” you reply, voice trembling.

He gets up on his knees for better leverage then slowly and carefully slips his middle finger just a few inches into your slick opening, but it is enough to awaken every nerve ending. His thumb assumes rubbing your clit while his green eyes gaze down at you affectionately. Any sense of shame or embarrassment is miles behind you. Your focus is on Rob and the chaotic pleasure stirring up inside you. Your pelvis starts rocking up to meet his hand, forcing him in deeper. Your eyes shut themselves tight. “I...I...,” you struggle.

“That’s it, love!”

You moan helplessly as his voice tips you over the edge. Your muscles spasm, gripping him as the orgasm flows through you like a wildfire. You eventually come down and relax into Rob’s welcoming arms, your cheek nestled against his chest. He kisses the top of your head as you fall asleep to the sounds of his breathing.

Masterlist

@bubblyani @chipster-21 @punknatch @helena-way07 @deadlynyghtshayde @ur-honey-child @ringpopdust @zombiedixon89 @chokemerobert

#robert sheehan fanfic #robert sheehan imagine #robert sheehan smut #smut #robert sheehan #smutty robert sheeham fic #smut requests

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banalbones · 4 years

Text

The Petite Prince: Chapter 1

Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, 7, 8

SideStory

Chapter 1: Too- Adorable-

Summary: Roman is a child and Virgil doesn’t know how to deal.

Words: 574

Genre: Fluff with a side dose of angst

Warnings: A tiny swear, crying, self-deprecating thoughts, tell me if there’s any more!

Tags: @pricklyfish777 @sunflowerblondeuwu

“I thought I was your hero…”

Roman sank into his room, eyes stinging as he held back tears. Despite all his efforts, a tear rolled down his cheek.

You failure.

You couldn’t even hold back tears.

You can’t do anything right, it seems.

But, then again, he already knew that. He already knew. Those thoughts, those hard truths, swirled around in his thoughts almost every second of the day.

Failure.

You can’t do anything right.

Why do you even try?

You know that everything you do is wrong.

Roman knew more than anyone thought.

He knew that De -Janus- was trying to do the right thing. So was Patton, and Logan, and Virgil, and Re- Well, Remus not so much, but he still did better than Roman, it seemed.

Roman, who couldn’t do anything right.

Roman, who wasn’t good enough to be anyone’s hero.

Roman, who was shrinking right now oh my god what the hell-

And then, with a quiet ‘pop’, a small, three year old child appeared.

Virgil was mildly annoyed at first. The sound coming from the Prince’s room was kind of loud, but music blaring into your ears from big, black headphones usually did a good enough job of cancelling out outside noise.

Then it got louder. And louder. And louder. How could sniffling be so loud?

And then a wail.

Virgil rose up in the princely side’s room, eyes scanning the room.

“Geez Roman, you’re being really loud, could you like keep it do-“

His gaze then fell onto the small lump of white, gold and red on the floor.

He paused. Shook his head. No. Nope. This wasn’t happening. He refused to believe it.

But there, on the plush red carpet, sat an adorable, rosy cheeked, three year old Roman, who was currently being smothered with the now too big prince costume.

But…but that couldn’t be right. The only time sides regressed was if they were super stressed out or upset, meaning it was only him and occasionally Patton who did.

Why was Roman regressed?

Virgil quickly scooped up the petite prince, who giggled and clung to his hoodie, tugging on midnight fabric. A wave of protectiveness washed over Virgil as he held the child.

So. Cute. Too much- Adorable-

Yeah he was kinda being overwhelmed by cuteness.

His hair is so fluffy! And since when did Roman have freckles?

How had he never known how adorable small children were?

A pressure on his nose snapped him out of his thoughts.

He looked down to see Roman reaching for his hair, accidently booping his nose in the process. The determined look on the toddler’s face may or may not have made Virgil melt.

He smiled, a genuine smile (shocking) and dropped his head, just enough for the scaled-down Roman to yank on his hair. “Pu-puple. Puple!”

It was so precious. Virgil literally just couldn’t. And then he remembered, he literally couldn’t take care of kids.

Welp, time to panic and/or cry.

Or call a responsible person who could take care of a child.

“Uh, Logan?” he called out. He was pretty sure Patton was preoccupied, making a video or something. Then again, wasn’t Roman supposed to be doing that too?

Logan rose up, an annoyed look on his face.

“What do you need, Virgil? Also, why are you in Roman’s roo- Holy shit.”

Thanks for reading! I know its a bit short, i’ll try make them longer in future

#sanders sides #thomas sanders sides #roman sanders #roman sanders angst #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #tss #ts roman #ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan #please give constructive critism #ive never written a fic before #baby roman #the petite prince

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botwstoriesandsuch · 4 years

Note

Hiii! I was wondering if I could request a revali x reader where revali and reader are best friends and are in love with each other but they’re both too oblivious to notice until one day something happens and they find out? i love your writing! thank you so much😊

Hey there! Sorry this took so long, but here it is! This is gonna be a two parter because I got super carried away with all the banter and scenes. Thanks for the request because I had a lot of fun with this! So, here is

Oblivious Actions Part 1 of 2

4015 Words (sorry it’s so long)

Revali x Reader

It was a perfect day to disobey your elders.

The sky was just waking, strokes of rose and honey painted the edges of the horizon. The wind was crisp, and playful, ruffling through his feathers as he flew. Lake Totori glistened below. Sunlight shone across a bright blue expanse, laced with only a few, white clouds. The plateaus surrounding the area were dotted with pine trees, their umber trunks rooted to the ground. The air was open and infinite. Gliding through the sky and observing the tiny specks of nature below filled him with a sense of wonder. Revali flapped his little wings down towards the forest.

HA! See? I’m already an expert flyer! I can explore as much of the world as I want, without any adults. I’m not a kid anymore!

The Rito baby blush marks that painted his cheeks said otherwise.

Even though Rito under 10 years of age were heavily discouraged from venturing beyond the bridges, Revali had decided he was big enough to go where he wanted. Behind him, the towering spire of Rito Village continued to shrink. To his left, the jutting figure of a wooden horse head could be seen. Hylians are so weird, needing other animals in order to move around. The stable in the distance then drowned into an evergreen sea. Gliding closer to the earth, the view of the sky was now covered with dry pine needles and brittle branches. He focused his attention to what was under him, trying to find a safe place to land. The breeze cooled and quickened. Revali angled his wings downward, trying to move his body to land gracefully among the trees.

He would fail.

There was a small clearing in the middle of the grove, a dirt path that travelers would use to hike between Warbler’s Nest and Rito Stable. Supposedly, following the trail even further up would lead to the infamous Hebra Peaks, a mountain range that lay just outside the view from his house, full of secrets and sights that no one has ever explored. Being the child that he was, naivety clouded his judgement, as Revali had ignored the warnings given to him about monsters nestled in the woods. The Rito was desperate to get out of the village in any way he could, even if it meant learning to glide all on his own.

Trying to plan his descent, he positioned himself at an angle, moving his weight backwards, ready to land. His feet shifted forward, ready to grip onto something solid, but the wind suddenly changed. It’s direction altered only slightly, but it was enough to catch him off guard. Flailing his wings, Revali tried to catch the current under his wings again, but it was no use, the current keeping him in the air was gone, and his baby wings weren’t big enough to flap a large gust of his own. A stray branch knocking into his side, the little Rito tumbled into the dirt.

“Gaah!” he grunted, panic coursing through him.

Revali plunged through the trees, not unlike how a snowball tramples down a mountain slope, picking up debris as it rolls. Falling through the branches, his feathery features caught sticks, leaves, and pinecones, until he connected with the earth with a thud.

“…ow…”

The impact caused dust to cloud around him. It got in his eyes and settled on the edges of his feathers. The dirt wasn’t the worst place to land, but it still hurt. His crash had broken a few branches, causing a couple of pinecones and leaves to break loose. One stray, falling leaf hovered through the air, delicately. Its flight was much more elegant, dancing in the wind. It landed gracefully on the tip of his beak, its cinnamon hue and crinkly features mocking him. Revali blew it off with a “hmph!”

Sitting in the dirt, Revali brushed off the dust and twigs on his tunic as best he could. It was one thing that he had snuck out of the house, but coming back all dirty wouldn’t do either. Mumbling to himself, he sat there, taking in the sights and sounds of the woods. A much better setting than sitting in the house all day. Then there was an abrupt shuffling in the bushes.

Looking up, Revali searched for the source of the noise. Getting to his feet, he picked up a twig and held it in front of him like a sword. Was it the monsters everyone had warned him about? His heart quickened, his mind raced. The trees still swayed in the wind, and the birds and bugs chirped, but suddenly everything was looking a lot more ominous. Another rustle. He hastily faced his left side, where a single dark green bush greeted him. Do I move closer? Back away? Revali was frozen in place. Finally, he dared to whisper.

“W-who’s there?” he asked.

Instead of a cliché silence, his question was immediately answered with a loud scream from the bush.

“AHHHHH! IT’S TALKING!” the bush yelled.

Revali followed suit and screamed himself, as it was only natural to be scared of shrieking plants.

“AAHHHHHH!”

“AHHHHHHH?!”

This exchange of confused and fearful yelling went on for a few seconds. A few sparrows took off for the sky, startled by the noise. Then, silence took hold again, with only the wind brushing through the woods. The bush and Revali stared at each other for another eternity. Finally the bush spoke again.

“Why are you pretty?”

“AGH?! What?” the Rito took a step back, bewildered. “W-wha…what’re you talking about??”

Suddenly, a small face peeked out from the bush. Their eyes were wide, and curious, but their expression was still wary. “I said, why are you pretty? Monsters are supposed to be ugly.”

Revali tightened his grip around the twig. “I’m not! You’re the one hiding in a bush, so you’re the monster if anything. I’m a Rito!”

“A Rito?” a small, Hylian child stepped out of the bush. They were wearing a maroon tunic, along with stable gloves and boots. The collar of their shirt was lined with cotton. A loopy scarf, that was far too big for them, was wrapped around their shoulders, etched with the emblem of the Hylian Stable System. Their hair was messy, probably from hiding within the bush. Gripped in their hands was their own makeshift sword, a wooden spoon. They waved it in Revali’s direction. “You’re way too tiny to be a Rito. The ones who visit the stables are always taller than my mom.”

“W-well, then maybe you’re mom’s short!” Revali sputtered out.

“Nuh-uh!”

“Ya-huh!’

He stomped his foot. “Obviously, I’m not a monster. I’m just of a… different height, because kids don’t leave the village without supervision. It’s only the adults you see. So quit being dumb. I mean, I can talk can’t I?”

The Hylian crossed their arms, tapping the spoon against their elbow. They considered his argument… I guess a tiny monster couldn’t eat me in one bite anyhow. “Fine then. If you’re not a monster, then you should have a Rito-sounding name, right? So what is it?”

Revali held his beak in the air and turned his back, crossing his own wings in imitation. “Hmph! Well why should I tell you when you’re a complete stranger! I thought you were a monster too, you know.”

The Hylian squinted their eyes thinking. “Well… fine. Your name probably sucks anyway! Thanks for scaring me half to death, tiny Rito!”

With that, the child turned around and started marching back in the direction of the stables. They made an effort to pound their boots on the ground to make as much sound as possible. Revali was left with his beak hanging open. How dare they! They’re the one with a sucky name, whatever it is.

He ran behind them, trying to catch up. He fluttered his wings to shake off any other dirt and twigs. He matched their pace, and puffed out his feathers. “I’ll have you know that I have a supercool nickname! Nicknames are always cool, therefore my name doesn’t suck. So, Ha!”

The Hylian raised an eyebrow. “Well, what is it then? What’s your fancy name?”

“They call me…” he stopped and posed, both wings outstretched in front of them, “…the Supreme Master of the Sky!”

They Hylian clutched their stomach, laughing hysterically. “HA! There’s no way that’s true. I saw you crash through the trees earlier! Some master you are, that’s probably even dumber than whatever your real name is.”

Revali narrowed his eyes, “Nuh-uh!”

“Ya-huh.”

“Hmph! Well at least I have a cool nickname. I bet you don’t even have one!”

“Nope. People just call me [Name], because my name is already great and I don’t need dumb nicknames or titles.” They stuck out their tongue at him.

Revali made a dumb face in retaliation, before responding. “Fine, if you won’t call me that, you can just stick with ‘Revali,’ and you better remember it!”

[Name] shot him a look, then huffed. “Yeah. Sure.”

The two of them continued their walk through the woods. Revali trusted it was the route back to the stable. They talked and jeered, laughed and scowled at each other, their conversations about nothing in particular. At one point, the Rito attempted to show off by gliding through the air. It would end with another crash, and the Hylian child chuckling.

“It’s cause you still have a bunch of stuff tucked in your wings!” [Name] said with a sigh. Removing a pinecone and several bits of dried leaves, they cleaned up the rest of Revali’s wing. When taking out a twig, they accidentally took out a feather.

Revali yelped, “Ow! What was that for?”

“I’m so sorry! I was just trying to get rid of this.” [Name] chucked the twig over their shoulder. The feather they had taken out was mainly white, but faded into a deep, indigo color at the bottom. It was like a star had shot across the sky, and its streak had colored this single, delicate feather. [Name] brushed it against their fingers, and stared at it in awe. It’s so pretty.

“Pfft. I know that. Anything from me is great.” Revali’s feathers puffed up in pride.

Oh no! Did I say that out-loud?? “Uh…yeah.” [Name] mumbled. They suddenly became very interested in the condition of their boots, turning their head to the ground as the two of them walked.

A silence fell between them. Then,

“Can…can I keep this?”

Revali cast them a glance. “Uh…sure, why not. Not like I need it anymore. I’ll have plenty next time I molt.”

[Name] looked up, eyes wide. “Really?! Are you sure? This doesn’t, like, curse me or anything right?”

He scoffed. “No, of course not. It’s just a feather. I’ve seen adults trade them all the time. It’s fine. Whatever…”

The large horse head was now in front of them. The trees were more dispersed, and piles of lumber scattered the ground. The muted colors that decorated the stable billowed in the wind, the breeze blowing loose cloth and banners across the sky. To the left were the wooden bridges. They led up to a towering spire, the familiar shape of Rito Village casting over the two of them. The two of them stopped by the back side of the stable. [Name] forced themself to plaster on a grin.

“Well, guess I’ll see you never!” they jeered.

“Ha! If I’m lucky, I’ll never see you or your wooden spoon again!” Revali stuck his tongue out at them.

After staring at each other for another eternity, [Name] finally turned around and ran back towards the entrance to the stable. Revali then began his walk back over the wooden bridges.

The next day, Revali would be punished for sneaking out of the village. His grounding would include having to do extra chores, specifically by having to help around Rito Stable for the rest of the month, much to [Name]’s surprise. Neither of them minded.

- - - - -

Years Later…

- - - - -

The Champions had arrived.

The letter had reached the village around a week ago, but they had come a day earlier than scheduled. But, that was to be expected, as the princess was always eager to go out and explore the shrines. The sun was set high in the sky, Rito Village’s shadow cast down on the woods below. The breeze exposed the pine cones nestled in the trees. The birds sang a familiar tune. However, the state of Rito Stable was very much unusual, or at the very least, uncustomary. Hylians and Rito alike were bustling. What was usually a quiet setting was now full of life and movement. People scrambled to set up decorations and supplies, most of which was being transported towards the village. Some were preparing lanterns, others setting up bright blue banners, adorned with the Hyrulean Family’s crest. The colors of the stable were now even brighter than usual, even the Rito flying about added streaks of bright colors in the sky. Children ran through the boxes of cargo, and stable hands moved barrels of goods towards the bridges that led to the towering stone spire. Among the chaos, a few individuals were chatting by the roadside.

“I’m just saying, I don’t wanna accidentally break the bridge! It wouldn’t be the first time something like that has happened…” Daruk scratched the back of his head, chuckling.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. The bridges are sturdy enough to handle the strongest of winds, after all.” Mipha gave him a reassuring smile. She glanced at Urbosa for confirmation, “Don’t you agree?”

The Gerudo nodded, “There’s no need to worry about such things. The whole point of throwing a party is to sweep your worries away. Besides,” she cast a glance towards a particular Rito’s direction, “we owe it to everyone who worked hard to organize it to be there. Isn’t that right, Revali?”

The Rito Champion was busy observing… something, but it was clear he wasn’t listening. He kept watching people file in and out of the stable, as if waiting for something. Revali kept fiddling with the edges of his blue scarf, smoothing it out to make himself more presentable.

“Revaaaaaali?”

“Hmm?” Finally snapping out of it, he turned to face the other Champions. “Ah yes, sorry. Daruk, there’s no need to be concerned, if you break the bridge all the Rito are perfectly capable of flying home, so it won’t matter anyhow. Plus Lake Totori is quite refreshing, so when you fall—”

Urbosa elbowed him on the side, cutting him off. He mumbled something about practicing honesty. She sighed, “Why did I expect you to add something genuine to the conversation…”

Revali scoffed, “Tsk. Your mistake.” Mipha gave a small laugh. The Zora princess tilted her head before chiming in, “Revali, Urbosa does have a point. You’re going to come to the celebration this time, yes?” The Rito Champion had a habit of not attending events that weren’t necessary or mandatory. He had skipped out on nearly every noble party, feast, and nightly social gatherings, on the pretense that “diplomats were boring,” “it’s utterly useless,” “I didn’t come here to socialize,” and “I’m busy doing something that’s actually important.”

However, it would be a bit more difficult to opt out of something that’s held right in your hometown. Revali turned and sighed. “Unfortunately, my schedule is quite clear for tonight. So, unless something more significant comes to my attention, I suppose I’ll attend the damn p—”

“HEY! IS THAT THE SUPREME MASTER OF THE SKY I SEE?”

The Champions turned in the direction of the voice. The feathers on Revali’s neck fluffed up in surprise, or was it embarrassment? Well, some sort of combination of the two. A Hylian stable-hand, carrying an assortment of wildflowers in their arms, made their way towards the group.

Mipha snickered, “Master of the Sky?” The Rito shot daggers in her direction, before facing back towards the stable-hand.

“Are you ever going to live that down? I was six. I think I’ve grown out of that.”

A bright grin grew on the Hylian’s face. “Hmm. Not vertically you haven’t!” They stood on their toes and used a hand to pat the feathers on the top of Revali’s head like a puppy. “I mean, you’re taller than me and I can still make fun of you for being a short Rito. That’s an achievement all on its own!”

Daruk didn’t try to hide his laughter that time. Revali shot more daggers at the Hylian. Although no one could notice it (and he would certainly never admit it), there was the slightest creep of a smile on his face when they patted him. He responded with his own quip. “Funny hearing that from someone who awarded themselves the title of ‘Number One Horse Boss,’ don’t you think?”

Their cheeks flushed, their grin was replaced with an awkward smile. “I was nine…”

“Oh? Does age matter now?”

The two continued to laugh among themselves about things the other Champions couldn’t really understand. Daruk was scratching the back of his head again, clearly it was new seeing the Rito so carefree. Mipha also watched them curiously. Urbosa’s gaze continued to switch between Revali and the Hylian. She then asked, “So Revali, are you going to continue insulting each other, or are you going to introduce us?”

He quickly coughed and straightened himself out. “Right, sorry. Well, esteem fellow Champions, this is [Name], they’ve been working at Rito Stable for as long as I can remember.” He wrapped his wing around their shoulder, pushing them forward. “Say hi, [Name]”

Snapping their attention to them, [Name] turned to greet them with a beaming smile. They excitedly shook everyone’s hand, a bundle of wildflowers still in their other arm. “It’s great to finally meet you all! Revali’s told me so much about you guys.”

Urbosa raised an eyebrow, looking at Revali. “Oh, what sort of things has he said?”

Before he even had a chance to stop them, [Name] gestured to Daruk. “He said that your optimism and laugh are very contagious,” they turned to Mipha, “And that you’re one of the nicest people he’s ever met.” Mipha blushed, Daruk had a grin plastered on his face. Turning to Urbosa, [Name] added, “And he said that you basically act as everyone’s mom in the group.”

Revali suddenly stepped in front of them, his feathers were puffed up. “AAAAAND NONE OF THAT IS TRUE OF COURSE. THAT WAS ALL A JOKE, A DUMB JOKE I TOLD A LONG TIME AGO. I GUESS THEY DIDN’T PICK UP ON THAT, OBVIOUSLY URBOSA ISN’T ANYONE’S MOM HAHA YEAH GOOD JOKE [NAME].”

Urbosa put a hand on her chest fake offense. The Rito turned back to [Name]. “So you’ve met everyone now, maybe now’s a good time for you to leave and not say anything else about our old conversations, got it?”

“Oh! Wait before I go,” [Name] took a wreath of yellow wildflowers from their arm, “The, uh…the Rito children were making these flower crowns…I, uh…I thought you all might want some..?”

[Name] draped them over Revali’s head before he could object. The flowers were a bright, bumblebee color, with small blushes of white. It matched well with his indigo and white feathers. “See? Now you look, uh, pretty…” they said. Their cheeks were beginning to rose in color.

Urbosa took three flower crowns from [Name], blue, green, and red in color. She took the red flowers and placed them in her own hair. “Thank you [Name]. I’ll give these other two to Link and Zelda. He’s off somewhere chasing the princess near the shrine at Tabantha. So I’ll just give them these later.”

[Name] nodded. Daruk took a pink flower crown, the salmon color bright on his white hair. It was more of a bracelet if anything. Mipha draped some on her own head, the pure, pearly white hue seemed to glow along with her other jewelry.

Revali then took lavender ones. “Don’t forget yourself, don’t think you can escape without also wearing one of these ridiculous crowns…” He gently set them on [Name]. They mumbled a meek “thank you” to Revali.

“Awww” Daruk gushed, “you both look cute together.”

Revali and [Name] stared at him in confusion.

“Uh, yes. The flowers are pretty…neat.” the Rito mumbled.

“Yeah,” [Name] whispered, “It’s pretty…swell…?”

Another silence fell over the group. Urbosa seemed to be barely holding it together, ready to snicker at any moment. But [Name] didn’t notice, they turned to Revali, slightly flustered.

“And, uh, Revali?” He glanced at them with a raised eyebrow. “Since you’re back in town, maybe we can hang out later? Or tomorrow? Maybe sometime before your big Champion party, we could hang out at our usual spot? You up for it?” Their ears and cheeks were starting to red, perhaps from the cold…

The Rito smiled, “Yeah, I think I can make room in my schedule for it. I’m very busy, but I’ll make it work.”

The two just stared at each other for a moment, both oblivious to the other Champions staring wide eyed at Revali. Then [Name], broke their gaze, giving a forced cough. “Well, *cough* I think I should get back to work. There’s probably a bunch of guests I need to serve inside.” They turned to the other Champions, “Feel free to stop by and I’ll whip up something for you to eat! On the house!” With that, they cast one last glance at Revali, and then started walking back. The purple petals in their hair rustled in the breeze.

“Uh, right. I’ll see you later.” Revali mumbled. He watched them walk away. “AND, um, Y-YOU LOOK NICE!” he called. [Name] turned, fumbling, and gave him a thumbs up, before joining the other workers inside the stable.

Revali turned back to the other Champions. They were all staring at him in silence.

“Tsk. What are you looking at?” he asked with a grimace.

Urbosa finally broke the silence, half laughing as she spoke. “What in the hells did I just witness?”

This cued all sorts of chaos in the group. Mipha started to barrage Revali with questions about his relationship with [Name]. Daruk was gesturing wildly at him, mouth agape, as if to wordlessly ask who are you?? How come you never smile like that when you’re around us? What’s the deal here?!

In the end, it was Urbosa who had to get everyone off Revali’s back. Placing an arm around him, she said, “Ok, now, now. Let’s leave our fellow Champion alone. We’ve been traveling for awhile, so I’m sure he’s eager to get back home without us all pestering him.”

Revali shook his wings and held his head in the air. “Hmph! That’s correct. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Giving a mighty flap, he summoned his gale and took off into the air in one smooth, fluid motion, literally leaving the other Champions in the dust. It seems he couldn’t get out of there quick enough.

Mipha turned to Urbosa with a teasing expression on her face. “Are we really going to pass up the chance to see how Revali’s gonna act around his obvious crush?”

“Oh don’t worry,” a knowing smile spread across the Gerudo’s face, “I’m not gonna let this opportunity go to waste.

- - - - -

“So is it your title as Champion, or Gerudo Chief that entitles you to lurk on my property?”

Revali gave a condescending glare at Urbosa. While it was one thing that she had the audacity to visit him so early in the morning, he was mainly just embarrassed she had caught him with his hair still messy. She gave a smug smile. “Neither, it’s simply my role as a concerned mom.”

The Rito hopped off his hammock. He fitted messy ribbons into his braids, before wrapping a white scarf around himself. Glaring back at her, he added, “Just to clarify, I don’t need any additional parental figures in my life.”

Urbosa sighed. “Just follow me when you’re ready. I’m gonna take up [Name]’s offer on the free food.”

Revali clicked his tongue. “Tsk. I don’t see why it’s necessary that I tag along.”

“Just for the company, we can chat over a drink.”

“About what?”

“Well, I have a few interesting conversation topics,” she turned back towards the wooden stairs, a grin still shone on her face.

“It’ll just be you and me, but I find the topic of your love life quite interesting.”

#lets forget that I forgot to tag this #botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda botw #loz botw #revali #revali botw #urbosa #urbosa botw #daruk #daruk botw #mipha #mipha botw #revali x reader #botw fanfic #rito

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marvelouss-marvel · 4 years

Text

Feelings | T.H.

Summary: Tom and Melina have feelings for one another but are lost in expressing this through words. Do actions actually speak louder than words?

Pairing: Tom Holland x OC (who’s black, so you’re welcome ladies)

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: I meant to finish this yesterday but got tied up yesterday with schoolwork. So, I apologize. This is a contribution to the Quarantine Writing Challenge created by @chaneajoyyy and @shaekingshitup. Thank you for adding me to my very first writing challenge. Also, I recommend you listen to “Feelings” by Lauv; it’s a masterpiece and the inspiration for this fic.

Is my love too much? Or is it just enough for you, for you? 'Cause it's getting late, would you like to stay? Ah 'Cause I'm bad at reading signs

All evening, Tom had been sneaking glances Melina. The tempered glass on her prevented him from viewing her observations but he knew it had to be either Tumblr or Twitter; both platforms had a tendency of stretching her lips to form that soft smile of hers he’d grown to adore over the last few months. On top of that, she would hold her phone up to his face once in a while to grant Tom the chance of witnessing what made her snort.

Although secretly watching her was simple, Tom found it difficult to prevent his thoughts from skedaddling all over the place like ants running from human feet. He was attempting to gather the courage in revealing his true feelings to her but a second of his mouth opening effected the various “what if” scenarios he created.

His ringtone for Harrison went off, pulling the two best friends out of their silent world. Tom reached for his phone on the small coffee table but paused his actions once he noticed the time. “Uh, Mel?”

“Hmm…?” she hummed. She was quick to retreat back into her personal bubble.

“You do realize it’s 2 in the morning, right?” Tom continued.

“W—” Melina paused her video on Twitter to pull the control center down on her phone. “Crap! I gotta go!” She stood from the couch to begin gathering her scattered belongings.

She was right that she needed to leave… but Tom didn’t want that. Sure, they hardly spoke to one another for the rest of the night after watching the 2-hour long Netflix film but he wanted her company a bit longer. In addition to that, it was too early in the morning for him to be questioning her whereabouts.

A lightbulb went off in his head but it was the idea itself that rapidly pumped the blood to his heart. “You know… you can stay the night?”

Melina scoffed. “Tom, no. We’re not having this discussion.”

“Um, yeah we are. It’s late Mel. And I don’t want you out.”

“I know how you feel, dad, but I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl.” She slightly rotated her head to wink his way. The irony of her statement was that she was petite for her age. Most of their friends were five-foot-five and above while Melina was often mistaken for an elementary student trying to fit in with the “big kids.”

Tom shook his head, even though she couldn’t see him. “Melina, no. Stay the night.”

“And miss the comfort of my bed? I don’t think so but thank you for the offer Tommy.”

Before Tom knew it, he was taking long strides to the front door and snatching her leather coat off the coat rack before her arm could reach out. Melina only raised one of her perfectly shaped brows she managed to do on her own in response.

“Okay?” she voiced. “What’re you doing?”

In that moment, Tom realized how much of a freak he perceived himself to be. He resembled a robot by shoving the item in her direction for her to take. “Um, I think it’s too late. And, I was wondering if you wanted to stay the night? It’s just I worry about you as your friend this time of the day.”

It took her a moment to respond but once she finally gave him his answer, he subtly released a breath he didn’t remember inhaling.

“You know, if you asked like that in the beginning, I would’ve said yes.” Melina smirked as she slid off her shoes. “You’re weird sometimes.” She left him by himself, claiming she needed to use the restroom.

But I, I wanna do whatever you wanna do If you wanted to, girl, we could cross that line

Even after two years of living in London, Melina continued to struggle in socializing. If she wasn’t lounging around in Tom’s apartment, the best friends were at the hottest club with their group of friends. No bad blood existed between her and the others; it was just the environment they chose to reside in for the evening.

Tom always noticed this quiet side of her. How she seemed to shrink in posture with slumped shoulders, even though she was gorgeous in her club attire. How she practiced her nervous habit of fiddling with her hands when it wasn’t her to turn to talk yet. How she sidled up against Tom every chance she got if people (mainly men) needed to squeeze by in reaching their destination. To tell you the truth, Tom found these adorable and made it a mission to protect her every time they went out.

The group had split a few minutes prior with Melina and Tom making their way to the bar. After constant begging, Melina hit the dance floor. Tom and the others cheered her on for three songs until she grew tired and yearned for some water. Like the unspoken bodyguard he was, Tom followed her.

“That was fun.” She began. “I haven’t danced like that since my family reunion.” She flagged the bartender down with a raised palm. “Excuse me, can I get some water?”

The woman behind the counter nodded with a smile and proceeded to fix the drink. Melina didn’t hesitate to grasp the foggy, clear glass and chug a large amount of the cold liquid down her throat.

Tom chuckled. “And when was that?”

He watched her chocolate eyes shift to stare at the ceiling in deep thought. “Like July? Of 2018?”

“Aren’t those every year?” he wondered. Last time he remembers having this discussion with Melina, she stated her family met up in the middle of July at one of the local parks every year.

“Yeah but, my parents didn’t go last year and don’t plan on going again this year. I gotta ask my mom again w—”

The sudden pause in the short story encouraged Tom to look up from the bar and into Melina’s eyes. Only, she was looking beyond him with an expression representing discomfort.

“That guy’s been eying me all night. I don’t like it.” she disclosed.

Tom swiveled around in his seat to find the man she was talking to. His eyes were able to pinpoint the stranger instantly searching for another area in sight to claim for straing. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmhm.” Melina affirmed with a nod of her head. She gazed at the back of her best friends head, praying he wasn’t thinking about making a scene. That’s the last thing she wanted for him. “Hey Tom?”

“Yeah Love?” His eyes were back on her, softer than before when he reversed the role of eying the creeper.

Melina only pursed her lips in embarrassment. After the first club incident where an intoxicated man approached Melina and Tom stepped in to play the role of a protective boyfriend, it had become an unannounced habit to cozy up with one another to ward off the eyes of complete strangers. Still, Melina was anxious in requesting his form of rescuing.

“Come here, Darling.” Tom urged. One of his arms wrapped itself around her waist to twist her body so her back faced him. That same arm also maneuvered her to sit on his lap like a child posing with Santa Claus for a picture.

At this point in their friendship, Melina considered Tom to be her second home. Her immediate family lived thousands of miles away, calling her when they could on Whatsapp and bringing a smile to her face. Tom provided her the same form of comfort just about every day now that her life was here in London.

Realizing this, Melina rested her back against his chest as if he were a pillow. This was temporary but, she couldn’t help but want a little more.

But I feel 'em in my chest A tiny war within But when I pull you closer Girl, I can't explain

Two months had passed but that didn’t stop the two from growing closer in physical contact. Behind closed doors, Tom did more of pulling her into his side when sitting on the couch and for some odd but cute reason, Melina felt the need to straddle his lap when presenting exciting news.

Today was Melina’s hair day and she needed help taking out the box braids she had installed over a month ago. If she took the braids out herself, it would’ve taken longer due to how exhausted she was again from another rough week at work. So, Tom was her next option.

“Sorry if I ripped you away from any plans you had.” She apologized for the fourth time that day.

Tom scoffed. “Darling, how many times do I have to tell you to stop apologizing? I’m currently on break from work and trust me, I’d rather be here than at my place by myself. Haz went out with the crew and I wasn’t up for that today.” He explained. “Besides, I’d rather be here with you.”

A tiny smile sufficed, which didn’t match the beating of her heart that suddenly felt as if it was trying to crawl out of her chest.

“Putting these in looks hard but taking them out? Different story.” Tom commented.

“You’re telling me. Which is why I have other people do it for me. I knew a girl who installed similar braids herself but… it didn’t really come out right in the back. I think it was her first time.”

“Reminds me of the first time Harry tried giving himself a trim.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We ended up giving him a decent buzz cut.”

Her giggle had now become music to Tom’s ears. Whether it be her speaking, crying, or laughing, Tom wanted to record her voice and carry it with him for his travels away from home.

Home. She was now home to him. But how could he reveal that truth to her when his feelings ran deep and he didn’t want to ruin what they had?

He continued to remove her braids in tranquil silence while Melina pulled out her iPad to play a few levels of Homescapes. The further he moved up her head, the more Melina relaxed against his torso by slouching.

The close form of contact affected the temperature of his armpits. Tom was currently stuck on the level of Friendzoning where physical contact with Melina affected how his body responded to her touches. From sweaty armpits to a beating heart, Tom felt powerless in controlling his reactions. And it didn’t help that her head rested above his heart.

It was six-thirty when Tom was pulling the last braid from Melina’s natural hair. She was just shutting her eyes at this point with her iPad turned off and cradled under arms like a student on her way to class. Slumberland grasped her conscious mind once Tom’s fingers began massaging her scalp. Sure, it was dirty but it was necessary her head receive a good kneading from someone aside from herself.

“Feel good, Love?” he whispered.

She hummed in satisfaction. “I need this.”

And I know, and I know that it's on your mind That it's on your mind when I kiss you But I wanna do whatever you wanna do

“I like you. A lot.” Tom panted.

It was the first thing he blurted to Melina as soon as she opened the door to her apartment. He looked as if he’d ran the whole way with his disheveled hair, slightly wet face, and drenched-in-sweat T-shirt he the threw on.

“What?” Melina whispered. Her heart and mind were hoping he meant what he meant.

“I like you a lot. And I mean that as in I have a major crush on you. I have for a while.” He elaborated in between breaths.

Melina ushered him in with a wave of her hand. “Come in, Tommy.”

He stepped over the threshold into the warmth of her apartment. His nose immediately picked up the scent of seasoning for her famous enchilada’s. The ceiling lights were dimmed to create a relaxing vibe. Behind her living space, the tiny dining table was blanketed with a cream table cloth and a vase of flowers stood in the middle of it.

“I just had a good day today, that’s all. I wanted to give myself a bit of a celebration.” She weakly explained. This moment in particular was something she anticipated for the longest but not in the manner of her appearing to set up for a date that wasn’t with Tom. “Um, so you like me?”

“Yeah, I do.” He moved his eyes away from the setting to fully look at her. Her digits were fiddling with one another again and her eyes landed on the space between their feet. Tom rested his hand over hers to lace their fingers. “I just think you’re… beautiful inside and out. You make me happy every time I’m around and… and I just wanted you to know.” He braced himself for the next part. “But, if you don’t feel the same that’s totally fine.”

She chuckled. “Why wouldn’t I feel the same?”

He knew what she was doing. Things could get awkward when Tom had these truthful moments with people. She wanted to ease his feelings through jokes. “Darling, c—”

“I’m being serious. Why wouldn’t I feel the same about you, Tom? You’re everything I like in a guy. Fine as hell, sweet, funny, and all in all: a gentleman.”

They were holding direct eye contact now, a smirk resting on Melina’s lips. She was the one who eventually leaned in connect their lips. Eyes closed, Tom’s arm snaked itself around her waist to pull her closer while both of Melina’s arms wrapped around his neck.

He moved away first, resting his forehead against hers. “Is there room for one more person for your celebratory dinner.”

“There’s always room for one when I’m having a good day.” She giggled as he leaned down to peck her lips again.

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