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atinylittlepain · 2 years ago

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Hayloft - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x dancer!reader

series masterlist

Joel thought they were joking, really. But when his patrol partners lead him through the back of the Tipsy Bison and slip down a dim flight of stairs, he realizes rather quickly that The Hayloft is no joke.

warnings | 18+ smut (duh), angst, joel being a ding dong

a/n | thanks must be given to @pedgeitopascal for letting me take on this idea <3

songs of this chapter:

I can't quit you babe - Led Zeppelin

Queen of boredness - Kinny

Do I move you? - Nina Simone

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Joel pulls on a faint memory at the periphery of his mind. A summer day in Austin, he and Tommy sitting on the curb outside their childhood home with their knees up to their ears, sweating in the stifling warmth of the afternoon. Barely-dropped voices murmuring back and forth as Joel flipped through the magazine held between them. He had been trying to act cool, like his first year of middle school had manned him up compared to his younger brother. But he remembers that thick heat creeping up his throat, and a flush that couldn’t just be chalked up to the Texas sun as their eyes roamed over bare bodies, spread legs, and faces contorted in what they supposed was pleasure. They had found the old Playboy tucked under their parents’ mattress, bored out of their melting minds and stewing in the AC. It was the first time he could remember feeling like that, somewhere between curious and uncomfortable, excited and ashamed.

He thinks about it now as he experiences that same feeling, forty years and change later, sitting in the basement of the Tipsy Bison.

“Where the fuck did they get those shoes?”

“There’s a mall, 15 miles south.” “They didn’t sell shoes like that at malls, man.” Joel is inclined to agree with the man making the observation on that point, wearily eyeing the dizzying struts of heels on the stage in front of him. He only lets his eyes wander upward briefly, spanning bare legs, catching a glance of scrappy lace, before turning his face back down to the swirling whiskey in his glass.

Honestly, when one of the men on his patrol team mentioned this place, Joel thought it was a joke, muttering a gruff “yeah, sure” when they invited him along for a night at The Hayloft. But he realized he was sorely mistaken when the group of men guided him into the Tipsy Bison, promptly walking through the door to the back where they kept all their kegs and slipping down a flight of dimly lit steps.

He recognized a few people immediately in the glowing red light, other men he had been on patrol with, playing pool and smoking in the back of the room. But most of them were seated, eyes glued to the raised platform in the center of what was clearly a bar, beneath a bar. It took a second for his brain to catch up to a sight so completely unexpected.

Swaying hips, curving spines, flicking hair, wandering hands, and dipping legs. Women, looking like something straight out of a porn film.

Now listen, Joel Miller was raised by a mother who taught him to be a gentleman, and as such, he had never once been in an establishment like this place, not before, and certainly not after the world fell apart. But, he is a man, afterall, and he can’t exactly help the way his eyes keep darting to one particular figure shimmying around on the stage. So, as he sits amongst his patrol partners, taking zinging sips of liquor, he feels that familiar heat creeping up his throat, making him stiffen up in more ways than one.

The music changes all of a sudden, a man’s rasped shout and a dragging guitar riff laid over a slumped drumbeat. He recognizes it, though he can’t quite place it in the haze. There’s four women up on the stage, and while three of them step down, slinking amongst the seated men, the other one, the one Joel has been watching, crooks her arm around the pole he had thought was only for decoration.

He no longer tries to hide his stare, watching the arc of her hips as she dips and snaps her hair out of her face, the thin fabric of what could only be described as panties pulling taut across the curve of her ass. She moves like liquid, curling around the pole and lifting up into the air, neck stretched long as she arches back in a perfect spin.

“She’s good, right?” Joel glances at Harris, his patrol partner who just spoke, grunting something noncommittal at the man’s broad grin, not wanting to miss a second of her performance. And a performance it most certainly is. She’s perfect, glowing in the faint red lights of the bar, every outstretched leg, every twist and bend, radiant and divine. Suspended in air, one arm elongated, before tracing a line of desire with her palm dragging down her bare torso, hips swerving obscenely up into the flicker of her fingertips. And then, with the next staggering string of guitar chords, she drops, catching herself at just the last moment. A delicate heel is lowered, followed by the other as the room resounds in applause, Joel only now realizing that he needs to pick his jaw up off the table.

The track changes, a stilted rhythm that she starts to bob her head side to side to as she steps down off the stage. Even her walk is like a dance, hips swaying, hands grazing the sides of her bare thighs as she moves, and Joel realizes too late that she’s coming directly toward their table.

“Harris, who’s your friend?”

“Cherry, this is Joel Miller. He’s new in town. Joel, this is Cherry.” She tilts her head at him, a simpering smile crinkling her eyes as she leans forward, breasts all but spilling out of the cups of her bra. Joel stutters into motion when it clicks in his brain that she’s holding out her hand for him to shake, his palm sliding against hers in a firm squeeze.

“Nice to meet you, Joel Miller. What’d you think of the show?” He has to clear his throat a few times before he speaks, an icy heat prickling the back of his neck all the while.

“I, um– you’re something else.” Jesus fucking christ, that’s the best you could do? She, however, seems to like his answer, smile broadening into a grin.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Well, if you gentlemen will excuse me–” Her eyes glance down and back up to Joel, twice, and he only figures out that it’s because he’s still holding her hand when she gives his palm another squeeze. He’s quick to let go of her hand, though he wishes he hadn’t. But his dismay dissolves with the sight of her walking away, and the way her ass shakes with each sublime step. He cranes his neck, only catching a glimpse of her slipping through a door in the back of the bar.

“Easy, Miller. You can look, but you can’t touch.”

“Where’s that door go?” Harris laughs, shaking his head.

“Look, man, don’t worry about that. Everyone falls in love with Cherry when they first see her. But it’ll pass. She’s off-limits.”

“Why?” Harris shrugs.

“She just is. They all are. Keeps things civil, y’know?” Joel has no interest in being civil, not right now. He hasn’t wanted something this bad in a long time, and even though Harris tries to call him back, he doesn’t so much as tilt his head in acknowledgement as he wades through the simmering haze of the bar toward the door he saw her go through.

He only briefly wonders at just how big this basement is when he shoulders through the door and into a dimly lit hallway.

“Nat, is that you? Did your set finish already?” Her voice is coming from behind a cracked door further down the hallway, which Joel follows with little thought to it.

“What the fuck?” It’s a blurry string of events. He catches the quickest glimpse of her when he sidesteps through the door, seeing her standing in front of a mirror, her bra loose and unfastened, hanging on her shoulders. But it becomes apparent pretty fast that this was possibly the stupidest (and creepiest) way he could have tried to get her attention when she catches sight of him in the periphery of the mirror, whipping around and startling a few feet back before hurling something small at him that still hurts like hell when it makes contact with his forehead.

“Jesus– shit!” He instinctively curls over himself, one hand on his thigh and the other pressing into the spot just above his eyebrow that seems to be bleeding from what he now sees was a hairbrush.

“What the hell is your problem, man? You thought you could get an extra look? You think you’re special, huh? Is that it?” His head is reeling, and it’s all he can do to straighten back up, still applying pressure to his well-deserved wound. In the time it’s taken him to collect himself, she’s slipped a robe on, tied close and tight around her waist.

“N-no, no. That isn’t– I just– wanted to talk, um, to you.” He feels like he’s got cotton in his mouth, gumming up his words and drying out his throat until it all comes out garbled and wrong. She lets out a bitter laugh, brushing past him and opening the door wider, fixing him with a hard look.

“Yeah, nice try, buddy. But I’ve heard that one before, and lemme tell you, that’s not how this works. Now get out.” She doesn’t have to tell him twice, Joel shuffling through the door, though he stops for a moment to say something.

“I’m– I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t know what I was thinking. But I swear, this ain’t how I am, normally. Fuck– I’m just– I’m sorry.” He doesn’t wait around for a response from her, hurrying back down the hall and out into the bar, not even looking for Harris as he makes a beeline for the stairs, taking them two at a time and getting the fuck out of the Hayloft and the Tipsy Bison.

The fresh night air is something of a relief, though Joel is still mortified, thick and heavy guilt settling in his bones as he stumbles home. He realizes now that he had been a fucking fool, thinking that she had, what? Been flirting with him? He scoffs to himself, knowing that it had just been a part of her act, her performance. And Joel bought it, hook, line, and sinker.

When he gets home, he takes a shower, scrubbing harshly at his skin, trying to clean away the sickening shame settled just beneath the surface. He knew better, he was raised better, and he’s horrified with himself that even at his age, he wound up thinking with his dick rather than his mind. Looking in the mirror, he sees the sizable cut, just over his left eyebrow, what will serve as a reminder to him to not get distracted by pretty, shiny things.

He doesn’t sleep well, tossing and turning in his sheets. The only real conclusion he reaches is that he’ll never set foot in the Tipsy Bison, or the Hayloft, again.

…

Joel is not having a good morning. Normally he’d feel at least a twinge of contentment in working at the stables, but today, the only thing he can focus on is his pounding headache and the embarrassing memory of last night.

He had only barely escaped Ellie’s questioning earlier this morning when she came downstairs and into the kitchen, telling him that he “seemed pissier than usual” before asking him where he got “that dinky little cut.”

Luckily, working the stables usually means he doesn’t have to talk to anyone except for the horses, the quiet tasks helping somewhat to ease his mind. His relief is short-lived, however, when he hears a newly familiar voice nearing the stables. Sure enough, when he peers out of the stables, he sees her, leading one of the new colts around the pen. While she looks a lot different than how she did last night, blue jeans and a ratty work coat hiding her figure, Joel would recognize that smile anywhere. Before he can return to hauling sacks of feed around, her eyes catch his, and she clearly does a double take, squinting at him in the morning sun.

“Hey.” A single word, a jerk of her chin, and then she’s walking over to him, and Joel suddenly has no clue what to do with his hands, shoving them deep in the front pockets of his jeans.

“I wanted to talk to you.” She crosses her arms over her chest, head tilted as she stands before him. Joel has enough sense this morning not to come off like a total fool.

“Again, I’m real sorry about last night. I wasn’t thinking, at all. It won’t happen again, I promise.” She sighs, toeing her boot into the dirt before glancing back up at him.

“Thank you for your apology. It’s fine, really. You weren’t the first, and lord knows you won’t be the last. I guess it kinda comes with the territory.” The laugh she lets out is clipped, clearly trying to hide the sore tinge to her words.

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever been called ma’am before.” It’s unexpected, the wry crook of her smile as she says it, and Joel has to huff out a laugh, rocking a bit on his heels. But his laugh fizzles out when she brushes her fingers over his forehead, leaning up and tracing his cut.

“That hairbrush did a little number on you, huh? Sorry about that.” Her touch is gone as quick as it had been there, but the warmth creeping across his face remains.

“S’alright. Reckon I deserved it anyways.” That earns him another smile and a light laugh.

“Yeah, I guess you did.” Her words come out airy, the quirk of her grin telling him that she means it as much as she’s joking about it, and it emboldens him just enough to say something else.

“Can I ask you something?” She purses her lips, squinting up at him.

“You can ask, and maybe I’ll answer.”

“How come I’ve never seen you around before?”

“You’re new, right? It may be a small town, but everyone works. I’ve been here for years and there’s probably still folks I don’t know just because we’re on different work schedules.”

“And is that– what you do at the bar– is that work?” She hums at his question, all smiles when she answers.

“Did that look like work to you?” His mind darts back to last night, her performance, and he has to swallow hard around the memory. She huffs out a laugh when he remains silent.

“No, that’s not work. Just a little fun, an escape, y’know? Forget about everything going on up above ground for a while.” He nods, certainly being able to understand the desire to forget the world, even for a few hours. They stand in silence, a hiccup of time, just looking at each other, which she breaks with a sigh.

“Well, I better get back to work. But, are we good?”

“Think that’s for you to decide, ma’am.” The laugh that coaxes out of her is different, fuller, as she tosses her head back, eyes crinkling up when she does look at him again.

“Hmm, yeah, I’d say we’re good. See you around, Joel.” With that, she turns on her heel, heading back out to the horsepen. But Joel still has another question for her.

“Wait– that’s not your real name, is it? Cherry?” She grins over her shoulder at him, shrugging a little.

“Why don’t you come see another show sometime? Maybe I’ll answer your question then.”

…

He recognizes the music immediately. Nina Simone, something his mother liked to spin on the old record player in the living room, snapping and popping with the drawl of the needle. But his mother is the last thing he’d like to think about right now.

He went alone this time, ducking down the stairs and sitting on a stool at the bar, using a glass of whiskey in his hand as an anchor as his eyes scanned the murky room. He feels his heart sink when he doesn’t see her up on the stage, nor in the crowd, but his disappointment fades when someone taps him on the shoulder, making him turn around in his seat.

“Hey, you came.” She’s in those same damn, mile-high shoes, that same little black set. But Joel has resolved himself this time to be a gentleman, and as such he keeps his eyes upward, as best he can.

“I was looking for you– wasn’t sure if I came on the wrong night.” Her smile is tinged red by the lights of the bar, eyes glimmering in the haze.

“Well, you actually just missed my set.” He feels his shoulders slump at that, only a little embarrassed by his clear display of discontent and the way that she catches it with a laugh.

“But, if you’d like, I could show you what you missed.” He doesn’t think he heard her right, his head ducking a bit, eyes squinting at her easy grin. She brings a hand to his bicep, fingers trailing down until they’re tangling with his and she starts walking backwards. It’s all Joel can do to shuffle along to her gentle tug, his brain short-circuiting all over again.

She pulls him through the backdoor, and then through the same door he had so witlessly stepped through the last time. He actually gets a good look at the room this time, what appears to be a makeshift dressing room, a few mirrors propped against one wall, clothes slung on a coat rack, and a ratty couch pushed into the corner. She drags him inside, Joel all but stumbling over his feet as she gives him a light shove down onto the couch, taking a few steps back and resting her hands on her hips. The music is only a faint throb through the walls now, quiet enough that he can hear his heartbeat kicking and quickening, blood rushing.

Her hips already have a little sway in them, the ghost of a smile as she keeps her eyes on him, and Joel muses to himself that whatever this is, it’s all going to be on her terms, always.

“Since I don’t have the pole, I’ll have to improvise a little bit, that ok with you?” Worried that his voice would betray him, he just nods, the sound of her laugh relaxing his shoulders from where they had been pinned up by his ears.

“Besides, I don't think those men out there really care about the moves, so long as my ass and tits are out. But I’m an artist, y’know? I care.” As if to emphasize her point, she steps one foot out, arcing her hips in a circle, and arching her back, her ass on perfect display as she grins over her shoulder at him. All Joel can think is that this must be a dream, that there’s no way this is actually happening. But seeing her dance up close, there’s no denying how real she is. He can see the sheen of sweat across her sternum, the little pull of her brows as she moves, the curved crease where her ass meets her thigh, and it all only makes him want her more.

“Hmm, I have to admit, I prefer dancing with a prop. Do you mind?” Though he’s not entirely sure what he’s not minding, Joel shakes his head no. He reckons that he wouldn’t even mind if she asked to stab him in the thigh, not at this point. She’s got that smile again, like she knows a secret she’s never going to tell him, as she saunters toward him, one knee and then the other coming to rest against the outsides of his thighs. The last sane part of his mind tells him that he still needs to be a gentleman, so he keeps his hands balled in fists on the couch cushions. He can see the intricacy of the thin lace detailing over her bra, her chest is so close to his face as she rests her forearms over his shoulders. He clears his throat, trying to focus on her face instead of her hips dipping and hovering over him.

“Did you, uh– did you do this for work before?”

“Mmhmm, made good money too. Was putting myself through college with it and everything.” She giggles at the raise of his eyebrows, tilting her head at him as she continues to sway in his lap.

“What? Does that surprise you?”

“Maybe a little, though to be honest, I’m starting to get used to you surprising me.”

“You can touch me, y’know.” He freezes at that, any ease he had slipping away under the prickling heat of her gaze.

“Don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.” He can tell that she finds his response amusing, her smile slanting and eyes squinting at him.

“And why not?”

“I’d rather not get another hairbrush thrown at me.” He tries not to, he really does, but he can’t help the way his eyes dart down to the swell of her breasts lightly bouncing with her laugh. It’s a quick little thing, the kiss she presses to the cut above his eyebrow, but it’s enough to melt his resolve down into a dripping puddle.

“I promise I won’t throw anything else at you. But why do I get the feeling that’s not the only reason you’re hesitating?” He lets out a sigh, and she stills on top of him.

“Oh god– did I completely read this wrong? I’m so–”

“N-no! That ain’t it. It’s just– I barely know you and I– you gotta know that I don’t usually do stuff like this.” “Stuff like what?”

“Like whatever you’ve got planned in that pretty head of yours.” She huffs out a laugh at that.

“Why don’t I tell you my real name? Then you’ll know me a little better than barely.” She leans in, lips grazing his ear, her name coming out on a whisper that Joel thinks will spin in his mind for the rest of his life. At the same time, her hands slip down his arms, uncurling his fists and guiding his palms to splay over her hips. Joel takes it from there, hands dragging down over the tops of her thighs before roaming up the span of her back.

“There, was that so hard?” Her smug look makes him grumble, hands dipping down to cup her ass and give an experimental squeeze that makes her gasp.

“Got another question for you, darlin.” She crooks a brow at him, waiting.

“Why me, huh? Could have any one of those guys out there. And I didn’t exactly make a good first impression.” Her smile screws up, eyes narrowing like she’s really considering what he said.

“Because you look like someone who’d like to forget for a while, same as me. And I like it when you call me ma’am.”

Things go downhill fast from there. It’s been a long time since Joel has kissed a woman, but he’s quick on the uptake, his lips molding with hers, tongues twisting up between little sighs and the clicks of spit. His hands firm up on her hips, pulling her down to grind against his aching hardness, reveling in the whimper that breaks in her throat when he does.

He just needed a little certainty from her, and now that he has it, he moves with confidence beneath her, dragging his lips down her chest, mouthing at the fabric of her bra, pulling away only briefly when she shrugs the garment off before dipping back down to take one of her peaked nipples into his mouth. She says his name like a plea, breathless and pitchy and he’d like to replay the sound on an infinite loop in his mind.

“No teasing– not this time. One of the girls could– fuck– could come in any minute.” His heart flips in his chest when she says this time, the promise of this happening again making him lightheaded as she fumbles with his belt buckle. He rests his forehead on her sternum, batting her hands away to finish the job of unbuttoning his jeans and shucking them down with his boxers, just enough for his cock to bounce out, pre-cum smearing over the bottom of his shirt. She works with deft hands, reaching between them to thumb over his leaking slit, rubbing the slickness down his shaft as he hisses at her delicate touch while at the same time, she’s pulling her panties to the side and moving to hover over his throbbing tip.

His eyes roll back when she slides down on him in one languid move, his fingers gripping harshly into the plush of her ass. It’s almost too much, the fluttering heat of her wrapping him up as she sighs on top of him, lips dragging across his in a broken kiss. And then she starts to move, and Joel thinks this might just be how he dies. It starts with a few tentative swirls, just like the ones he saw her do up on that stage the first time, but that quickly morphs into sweet little bounces that he guides with his hands cupping her ass.

Neither of them speak, only letting out little gasps of pleasure, her uh uh uhs driving him crazy with each bounce. He firms his feet up on the ground, starting to meet her hips with his own thrusts, her back arching at the sensation and a silent cry stretching across her lips. More than anything, he wants to feel her come and he sets his mind on it singularly, bringing one of his hands around to draw sloppy circles over her clit, groaning at the way she spasms around him in response. He brings his other hand up to hold her by the back of the neck, pulling her closer until he can smear his lips across her ear in a hot whisper, low murmurings of how bad he wants it, how good she feels, how he’s dying to see her come for him.

And she does, with a harsh yelp of his name, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades through the fabric of his t-shirt. She slumps in his grip, and it takes all of Joel’s willpower to pull her off of him, finishing himself off with a few frantic strokes of his hand before his spend is smudging across her tensing belly.

They hold onto each other hard, trying to find stillness after their heady spin of pleasure. Beneath their breathless pants, the dull thrum of music still seeps into the walls from the bar, a reminder of what actually just happened, and how fucked he truly is now that he’s gotten a taste of her.

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luvrboydave · 1 year ago

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ur turning into one of my fav blogs omg omg… we need more dave content on here. rn i’m thinking abt slow and sensual sex w 1990s dave after the two of you have been crushing on each other for a while… maybe you grew up together n you’ve always had his back. kinda like the “it’s always been you” trope you feel me?

omg no way, your blog is literally the reason i made mine LMAO and i totally agree…there’s just not enough dave content on here!! no but listen…there’s something so sweet about 90s dave…he’s just got this happy, comforting aura to him, y’know what i mean? i love him sm

doing this in bullet point format because my brain is very messy and can’t structure a story rn...so this is just word vomit about the prompt

- dave has been infatuated with you since the two of you met in high school. you always supported him, no matter what he was going through. when he was kicked out of metallica, you were his shoulder to cry on, and when he formed megadeth, you were there to congratulate him

- bro fell for you SO HARD!!! he constantly buys you little gifts and tries to play it off as a friendly gesture…sayin things along the lines of “i saw this at the store earlier and i thought you’d like it” as he hands it to you. unfortunately, he’s oblivious to the fact that you also fell for him.

- one night in ‘92, dave drives you out to your guys’ fav hangout spot, and it’s definitely *not* a date. you both sit in his car, silently listening to some random led zeppelin song playing on the radio. out of the corner of your eye, you watch as dave takes a deep breath and turns towards you. “can i tell you something?” he asks, nervously running his fingers through his hair. You smile at him, “of course, what’s up?” “i’m in love with you,” he breathes out. your eyes go wide; you’re completely shocked by his confession. a short laugh escapes your lips, and you grab his hand, “well, i’m glad im not the only one that’s utterly in love with their best friend…”

- soon enough, dave has your back pressed into the cool leather of his backseat. he’s kissing you slowly and softly, ensuring you know how much he loves you. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible. your shirt rides up slightly as you push your hips upwards, and dave’s hands are immediately on the newly exposed skin, hands coming to rub your waist. dave kisses down your neck, pausing to whisper, “love you so much…it’s always been you, sweetheart.”

- once he’s got you fully undressed, dave makes his way down to your cunt. he presses his cheek up against your thigh and looks up at you, “wanna eat you out so bad, baby…” you weave your fingers into his hair and push his face towards your pussy, and he gladly complies.

- you moan as he slides his tongue over your drenched slit, tightening your grip on his hair when he takes your clit into his mouth. dave uses his thumbs to spread your fold apart, licking a flat stripe over your cunt before he turns his attention to your clit again.

- he sinks his middle and ring fingers into your cunt, fucking you with them nice n slow as his mouth is still attached to your clit. His other hand is wrapped around your thigh, keeping one leg in place over his shoulder. “dave- gonna cum,” you gasp breathlessly, rolling your hips up into his mouth. dave coaxes the orgasm out of you slowly, fingers curling up into you and hitting just the right spot. your eyes flutter shut as you cum, hands scrambling for purchase on anything you can find. after dave cleans up your messy cunt, he kisses back up your body, planting a sweet kiss on your lips again.

- you watch as dave unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down just enough for him to slip his cock out. he wraps a hand around the back of your knee, pushing one of your legs up to your chest. his other hand guides his tip to your entrance, teasing it against your cunt before slowly pushing in. once he bottoms out, he begins to fuck into you slowly. his pace is steady, but his thrusts are deep; the head of his cock brushes against your cervix with every thrust. dave leans down to whisper in your ear, pressing his weight into you. “so fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart. wanted you for so long, y’know…thought about this every day.” he grunts, pace faltering ever so slightly.

- dave brings snakes down to your cunt, thumb beginning to rub at your clit, adding to your already overwhelming pleasure. you can feel your orgasm swelling up again, one hand moving up to grip dave’s shoulder and the other pressing onto the foggy window. your pussy flutters around him, and you cry out, signalling to him that you’re cumming. he continues to fuck into you, helping you ride out your intense orgasm again. pulling out of you with a loud groan, dave wraps his hand around his cock and jerks himself off until he cums onto your cunt.

- dave smiles down at you, leaning in to steal another kiss from your lips before looking for something to clean you up with. after he wipes you down, you sit up and watch him tuck himself back into his jeans. He looks over to you, a bright smile on his face, “i meant all that shit i said, y’know…” you nod and return his smile, laughing slightly, “this was kind of a weird way to ask me to be your girlfriend, but the answer is yes.”

#dave mustaine smut #megadeth smut #metallica smut #dave mustaine x reader #asks and replies

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fatecantstopme · 2 years ago

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If I Love You Too Much, I’m Sorry

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Summary: I got the idea from Russell Dickerson's song “Sorry”. Chris expresses his feelings for you via karaoke.

Warnings: RPF. Use of pet names. Cursing. Smut, Oral (M & F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V)

You'd met your boyfriend purely by chance. Your friends had dragged you out to a karaoke bar one night and he happened to be there with some of his own friends.

You were slightly embarrassed to say that you didn't even notice him until he got up on stage to sing a song. The moment you heard him speak, you recognized his Boston accent.

"Tell me that's not Chris Evans," you whispered to your best friend, Andi.

She turned towards the stage, eyes widening. "That is one hundred percent Chris Evans."

"What the hell is he doing in a karaoke bar in the middle of the week?" you hissed.

She laughed and shrugged. "Girl, everyone loves a good karaoke night. Even famous people."

One of your other friends rushed over to your table with a couple drinks. "Dude, did you see Chris freaking Evans? He's on stage!"

"Yeah, Nic, we saw him," you said. "Hard to miss the hot guy singing freaking Led Zeppelin."

"Who picks a Led Zeppelin song for karaoke?" Cole asked in annoyance.

You chuckled. "Apparently Chris Evans does."

Cole rolled his eyes. "Straight guys are so weird." He took a long drink. "At least he's pretty."

You bit your lip as you turned to look over at him. "Pretty is not the word I'd use," you mumbled.

Andi smacked your arm and you laughed.

"Okay, so you're getting up there next, right?" Nic teased you.

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?! You always sing karaoke."

"Not when Chris Evans might see me. No way in hell."

"Oh come on," Andi said with a grin. "Maybe he'll fall in love with you after he hears you sing."

You threw a napkin at her and she giggled.

"One of you can get up there and sing instead. I'm gonna get another drink."

You crossed the room to the bar, not really noticing that the song had changed. You ordered your drink and patiently waited for the bartender to make it. He handed you the drink with a smile and you grabbed it with a thanks. You turned around, not really paying much attention, and ran directly into a firm, broad chest, spilling your drink all over yourself and him.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," you said quickly, before looking up at the man you'd run into.

"It's alright, I kinda ran into you."

That thick Boston accent would have told you exactly who he was even if you hadn't been staring into his blue eyes.

You gulped, mouth suddenly dry.

He smiled at you warmly, taking you in slowly, eyes trailing over you before making their way back to your face. "How 'bout I buy you another one?"

"You--you wanna buy me a drink?" you squeaked.

He laughed. "Yeah, if you'll let me."

You nodded rapidly. "Sure."

He placed his hand on your hip to gently slide you over so he could get to the bar. Your whole body lit up, sparks igniting every nerve ending. You cleared your throat, trying desperately to be normal again.

Chris ordered you another drink before turning to address you again. He put his hand out to shake yours and said, "I'm Chris."

You shook his hand and mumbled, "I know."

He laughed, smile widening.

"Sorry--I don't mean to be awkward," you fumbled. "It's not every day you meet Chris Evans."

"Don't worry about it. Just think of me like a normal guy, buying a pretty girl a drink."

"I can work with that," you said with a smile, trying not to die when he called you 'pretty'. "I--uh, I'm (Y/N)."

"(Y/N)," he said your name as if he was tasting it. "Beautiful name."

"Thanks," you said, face heating up as a blush creeped into your cheeks.

Thankfully, the bartender finished your drink, handing it to Chris. He turned to you and handed you the drink. "Would you like to sit with me? I'd love to chat with you."

You gave him a smile you hoped looked normal. "I'd love to."

He put his hand on your lower back and gently guided you to a small table at the back of the room where it was quieter.

The two of you stayed and talked for hours, about everything and anything. You were surprised by how down-to-earth he was and you found yourself feeling incredibly comfortable with him.

You were still talking when last call went out. Chris looked surprised and you glanced around the mostly-empty bar, noticing your friends had left you.

"I didn't realize it was so late," he said.

"Yeah, my friends already left."

He glanced around. "Mine too. Can I get you a ride home?"

"Oh, thanks, but I actually live a couple blocks away. I'll just walk."

"At this time of night? Absolutely not."

Surprise lit up your face. "I do it all the time."

"What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you walk home by yourself?"

You raised your eyebrows. "Are you offering to walk me home?"

He stood up and reached out to help you up. "I am, indeed."

You laughed and slid your hand into his, letting him pull you out of your chair.

"Let me just go pay the tab," he said.

"Oh, I have to pay mine too."

"I've got it," he insisted.

"You don't have to--"

He waved you off. "Please let me. My mama raised me right."

You chuckled. "Alright, if you insist."

"I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."

You watched as he walked away, disbelief suddenly sinking in. You'd spent hours talking to Chris and now he was paying your tab and walking you home. What the hell is happening with your life?

"Ready?"

You smiled at him. "Absolutely."

"Lead the way, beautiful."

You couldn't help the soft sound that left your lips, but you hoped he hadn't heard you.

It was a beautiful night and the walk only took about 15 minutes. When you reached your apartment, you stopped and turned to him. "This is me."

He looked a little sad, as if he didn't want the night to end. "I have to say, I haven't enjoyed myself this much in a long time."

"Neither have I," you said honestly.

"Could--could I maybe call you?"

Surprise lit up your face for what had to be the millionth time that night. "You--you wanna call me?"

He smiled warmly. "Yeah, if you're okay with it."

"I'd love that, actually."

He took out his phone and handed it to you so you could put your number in. When you handed it back, he slid it into his pocket and took a step towards you.

You froze, allowing him to stop within an inch of touching you. He looked down at you and your eyes met his. You desperately wanted him to kiss you, but you weren't about to beg him for it.

He leaned down, pressing his lips gently to yours, taking your breath away with a soft kiss. You leaned into him, hands sliding around his neck to pull him closer.

The kiss was incredible, but so much shorter than you would have liked. When Chris separated his lips from yours, you let out a soft whimper at the loss of contact. He didn't step back and his hands didn't leave your face.

You heard yourself whisper, "Would you like to come in?"

He smiled at you, warm eyes filled with desire. "I would like that very much."

He followed you into your building and up to your apartment. The moment you were inside, he pulled you against him, lips attaching themselves to yours once more.

You weren't even sure how you made it to the bedroom, let alone how you'd lost every piece of clothing either of you had been wearing along the way.

To say the sex was incredible would be an understatement. It was, without a doubt, the best sex of your life. Chris pulled you into him afterwards and you fell asleep almost instantly.

When you woke up the next morning, you were surprised to feel an arm draped across your midsection. You turned your head and saw Chris sound asleep beside you, arm holding you tightly. You smiled at the sight, heart warming as you watched him sleep.

"You're staring, beautiful," he murmured softly.

"Sorry," you said sheepishly. "I thought you were still asleep."

"I was until you started staring into my soul," he teased, blue eyes opening to take you in.

You suddenly felt self-conscious, knowing you probably looked like a hot mess after everything that had happened the night before.

"You're so beautiful," he said reverently, reaching up to tuck a hair behind your ear.

You blushed. "Thank you."

You glanced over at the clock and gasped. "Shit! I'm gonna be late for work." You scrambled out of bed and ran to the attached bathroom.

"Sorry about that, sweets," Chris said, getting out of the bed and following you into the bathroom. "You're more than welcome to blame me for your lateness."

You laughed. "I just might." You turned on the shower and looked over at him. "Wanna shower with me real quick?"

"You don't have to ask twice."

What had begun as a night out with friends had magically turned into one of the best nights of your life and the beginning of something truly amazing.

**********

Six months later, you were back in the same karaoke bar on a Saturday night with your friends and Chris, whom you'd been secretly dating since that first night.

Well, it wasn't entirely a secret. Your friends and family knew about the relationship, but it hadn't been made public yet. You and Chris had been very careful to keep it as private as possible, for your sake more than anything. He didn't like the idea of people invading your personal life just because you were dating him.

You'd begun asking him about making the relationship public a few weeks ago. You were willing to sacrifice your privacy if it meant being truly with him. It hadn't been very long, but you both already knew that this was going to be a long-term thing. You couldn't keep living like this and you knew it was taking a toll on him as well.

Your best friend, Andi, had suggested getting together at the karaoke bar you and Chris had met at. In her estimation, it was past time for the two of you to be together in public. Much to your surprise, Chris agreed.

You were all sitting comfortably at a table towards the back of the bar, relaxing and chatting. Your friends were talking about some nonsense and you turned to look at Chris. He was completely engaged in the conversation, nodding and laughing along with your friends' antics.

It warmed your heart to see him so happy and engaged with the people you loved. He was always so sweet and good with them, just like he was with you. You loved him so much, but you hadn't been completely comfortable admitting it to him just yet. It's like that old saying, 'when you know, you know'; and you sure as hell knew.

"Babe," Chris said again, waving his hand in front of your face.

"Hmm?" you hummed, shaking your head to clear it.

"Where was that pretty little head at?" he asked lightly.

"I was just thinking...nothing important."

He clearly didn't believe you, but he let it go. "I'm gonna go sign up to sing. Wanna come with me?"

"Oh lord. I think I'm going to decline tonight."

He shook his head. "You're missing out," he teased as he got up and headed to the other side of the bar.

"Hey," Andi said as she elbowed you gently. "What's up with you tonight?"

You shrugged. "My mind is somewhere else, that's all. But I'm okay, I promise."

Her eyes narrowed as she took you in, but her expression softened as she clearly decided to believe you. "He's really great, you know."

"I know," you smiled as you looked across the room at him.

"Oh I know that face."

"What face?"

"The one you're making, (Y/N)."

"I'm not making a face."

She raised an eyebrow. "Mhm. Sure." She leaned in closer and whispered, "You love him."

Your eyes widened and your head whipped in her direction. "Shh!"

"I whispered it!" she insisted. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're not wrong," you mumbled.

"Have you told him?"

"Not yet."

"You have to!" she insisted.

"You love 'love' a little too much," you teased.

"I know," she said dreamily. "I just love seeing you so happy, babe."

You leaned against her. "I really am happy."

She wrapped you in a tight hug. "Love you."

"Love you too, weirdo."

Chris made his way back to the table. "I'm up in two songs."

"What did you pick to sing?" you asked.

"It's a surprise," he said with a wink.

"As long as it's not WAP or something like that," Cole said dryly.

Everyone laughed.

"I would pay to hear you sing that," you said, laughing loudly.

"I promise it's not that," Chris insisted, still giggling.

The conversation drifted to other topics and you were engrossed in it. So much so, that you missed Chris getting up to go to the stage.

"Hey, everyone," he said into the mic.

You turned your head to look in the direction of the stage at the sound of Chris's voice.

"This song goes out to someone very special to me."

"Aww," Andi whispered.

"Shut up," you said lightly.

The first notes of the song started and your breath caught in your chest. It was a newer song, but Chris had been walking around his house and yours singing it for weeks.

Girl I wanted to apologize

For the way I've been acting lately

I been doing all kinda things

I probably just drive you crazy.

Gotta get it off my chest

Oh, and it just can't wait

It's something I ain't told you yet,

Baby, I just gotta say

Your heart was thumping in your chest loudly enough that you were certain your friends could hear it over the music. You knew every word to this song since Chris loved it so much.

Girl, I'm sorry for kissing you in front of everybody

For saying that we should leave the party

Soon as we walk in it

Have you outta that dress in a minute.

You hate it when I say it

You're so beautiful you oughta be famous

My bad.

Go ahead, you can blame it on me

If I love you too much, I'm sorry.

You couldn't breathe. For the first time since he first started singing this song, you let the words fully sink in. Your only thought was 'Is he saying that to me?'

Your friends were looking over at you to gauge your reaction, but you couldn't take your eyes off the man on stage. His gaze rested on you as he sang and you could hear the emotion in his voice. An emotion you couldn't quite place...or maybe just too afraid to.

Sorry for coming home early

When I was out with the boys downtown,

But there ain't nothing I'd rather do

Than come home and lay you down.

'Cause, baby, you're so perfect

I can't get you off my mind

So if I miss you

Gotta kiss you like a thousand times.

Andi leaned over to you. "Has he ever told you he loves you?"

You just shook your head.

"Well, I think he just did," she whispered.

Oh, I'm sorry for kissing you in front of everybody

For saying that we should leave the party

Soon as we walk in it

Have you outta that dress in a minute.

You hate it when I say it

You're so beautiful you oughta be famous

My bad.

Go ahead, you can blame it on me

If I love you too much, I'm sorry.

Other people in the bar had started looking in your direction, following the direction of Chris's gaze. Normally that would bother you, but in this moment, you couldn't get yourself to care. All you could think about was the way he was looking at you, mixed with the words coming out of his mouth.

'Cause I want you

And I need you

If I tell you too much

Then I just gotta say it

I'm sorry, mmm, I'm sorry.

Your body was reacting to his voice in the way it always did and you wanted him badly, more than you could recall ever wanting him before. You knew the song was coming to an end and you couldn't help but sing along to the last chorus.

I'm sorry for kissing you in front of everybody

For saying that we should leave the party

Soon as we walk in it

Have you outta that dress in a minute.

You hate it when I say it

You're so beautiful you oughta be famous

My bad.

Go ahead, you can blame it on me

If I love you too much, I'm sorry.

"You okay, girl?" Andi asked as Chris finished up the song.

"I think so," you said softly.

She squeezed your hand and you watched as Chris walked off the stage and started coming towards you. Several people's gazes followed him, trying to see exactly where he was going, and more importantly, who he was going to.

When he reached you, he didn't even hesitate. He leaned down and kissed you deeply in front of your friends and a room full of strangers. Your friends started whooping and other people in the bar clapped.

He pulled away from you, expression unreadable. "Wanna get outta here, baby?" he whispered in your ear.

"Please," you whimpered. You blushed, embarrassed by the pleading tone of your voice.

He pulled you out of your chair and practically dragged you towards the door. You gave Andi a look and she grinned ear to ear, waving at you as your boyfriend pulled you away.

He pulled out his phone as soon as you got outside and started typing.

"Baby? What are you doing?"

"Calling an Uber."

"Why? It's a 15 minute walk."

He turned to look at you with a hungry look. His pupils were lust-blown and you finally took the time to notice the desire literally oozing from his pores. "I'm not going to make it that long," he practically growled.

Warmth flooded your core at his tone, coupled with the way he was looking at you. You were lost for words, so you just nodded at him.

He squeezed your hand as you waited for the Uber, and thankfully you didn't have to wait long. You found yourself in front of your apartment door less than 5 minutes later.

Your hands were shaking slightly as you tried to unlock the door. You could feel his erection against your lower back as he pressed against you.

"Baby, unlock that door a little faster or I'm going to kick it down," he said, breathing heavily in your ear from behind you.

"I'm trying, but you're not making this easy, Christopher," you hissed.

He grinned against the skin of your neck, planting kisses and bite marks anywhere he could see.

You finally got the door unlocked and the two of you practically fell inside the apartment. It was reminiscent of your first time together, but his hunger tonight was absolutely unparalleled.

He spun you around and pressed you against the door, lips attacking yours instantly. He wedged his knee between your legs and you gasped as his lips descended to your jaw.

"Chris," you whimpered.

"I've got you, baby," he murmured against the column of your throat. "Gonna make you feel so good."

He gripped your hips and pulled you closer so you were flush to his body. The shift moved your clothed core against his thigh and you moaned at the friction.

He groaned softly. "Use my leg, pretty girl," he moved your hips in a slow rhythm. "That's it, baby."

Your head fell back against the door and you moaned again. "I want you, baby, please," you begged.

"Yeah, sweets? What'cha want?"

"I want you now, Chris. Please. Just fuck me."

He growled lowly. "Anything for you, baby."

He started to take your clothes off, hands tracing the curves he loved so much. He had you completely naked in less than a minute, but the only piece of clothing he allowed you to remove from his body was his shirt.

You watched him as he dropped to his knees in front of you and your eyes widened in surprise. "Baby?"

His eyes flicked up to yours. "Just lean back and let me take care of you."

He grabbed your leg and lifted it over his shoulder, giving him the access he needed to get to your core. He didn't even bother to tease you, diving into you with the hunger of a starving man.

You gasped in pleasure, hand immediately going to his hair, fingers entangling themselves in the thick locks.

Your moans mixed with the salacious sounds coming from between your legs, and you would have been embarrassed if it didn't feel just so damn incredible.

He moaned into your core as he messily slurped up your juices, tongue moving to focus on your clit. He slipped a finger inside of you, followed by another, curling his fingers in a come hither motion.

"Chris!" you cried in pleasure, fingers tightening on his hair.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?"

"Don't stop," you begged.

Chris grinned and went back to work between your thighs, coaxing you to your climax with skilled fingers and mouth.

Your legs began to shake as you reached your high, thighs trying to close around his head. Your voice was nothing but broken moans and whimpers of pleasure.

Chris's hands were the only thing keeping you upright as you came down. He stood up, holding you against him, making sure you didn't fall.

His lips met yours in a searing kiss, hands sliding down to your butt. "Can you jump for me, sweets?" he whispered against your lips.

He held onto your butt as you attempted a jump, his strong arms the only thing ensuring you didn't fall on the floor. You wrapped your legs around him and he carried you to the bedroom.

He tossed you onto the bed with a grin. Instead of crawling onto the bed with you, he started to slowly remove his jeans.

"Are you stripping for me, handsome?" you teased lightly.

He grinned wolfishly. "You like it?"

"I love it." You loved everything about him, physically, mentally, emotionally...all of it. The whole package.

He removed his pants completely, leaving him in just his boxer briefs. You eyed the large bulge, mouth watering as you thought about tasting him.

"C'mere," you said softly.

He smiled and crawled onto the bed, lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. You pulled him down on top of you, hooked your leg around his hips, and flipped him over.

You straddled his hips, legs spread wide to fit around his width. He looked up at you in slight surprise, not used to you taking charge in the bedroom.

"What'cha doin', gorgeous?"

You smirked at him and slowly moved down his body, allowing yourself space to remove his underwear. You tossed them onto the floor and lowered yourself down to take him into your mouth.

"Fuck--that's it baby," he groaned.

You bobbed your head, tongue tracing the thick vein running down his shaft. You focused attention on his head, eliciting sharp moans from his throat.

Chris's fingers were entangled in your hair and he began to tug on it slightly. "Baby, you gotta stop--I'm--I'm gonna cum."

You moaned around his cock and he groaned in pleasure. He tugged on your hair more harshly, pulling you off his cock. You whined in displeasure, but that quickly turned to a shocked gasp as he flipped you onto your back.

"Sorry, babe, but I wanna cum inside you."

"How can I say no to that?" You pulled him towards you and he kissed your lips roughly.

The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance and you inhaled sharply. "Please, Chris," you whimpered.

"I've got you, gorgeous."

He started to enter you and your nails dug into his shoulders as his thick cock stretched your tight walls. No matter how many times you had sex, he always stretched you more than you'd ever been stretched before.

He thrust into you, burying himself entirely. He didn't give you time to adjust to his girth before he began to fuck you into the mattress, setting a relentless pace.

You cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, your nails buried into his back.

He groaned into your neck. "Fuck, baby, you feel so good. Squeezing me so nice."

"Chris, I'm--so close," you gasped out.

"I've got you. Let go for me, pretty girl."

Chris picked up his pace a little, thrusts slamming into your sweet spot, sending bright flashes of pleasure through your body.

Your nails raked down his back, eliciting a growl from deep in his chest. He loved it when you marked him up; he wore them like badges of honor.

"Cum for me baby, I know you're close."

Your moans were loud enough you were certain the neighbors could hear, but you couldn't find it in you to care. You held onto him as your orgasm crashed into you, coming apart with cries of his name.

Your orgasm triggered his and he came with a series of curses and a loud groan of your name, his seed filling you up.

He kissed all over your face and neck as you both came down from your highs. "That's my girl," he whispered. "Did so well for me."

He slowly pulled out and rolled to your side. He kissed you one more time, before getting up to grab a washcloth. When he came back, he cleaned you up gently before crawling back into the bed with you.

You settled in against his chest with a sigh. He pulled you in close and laid a kiss against the top of your head.

You finally had a moment to think about what had happened earlier in the evening and your mind began to race.

Chris seemed to sense your change in demeanor, feeling your body tense in his arms. "You okay, sweets?" he asked softly.

You nodded.

"Hey," he whispered. "Talk to me."

You slowly sat up and turned your body to look at him. You traced the design of one of the tattoos on his chest, eyes watching the movement of your fingers. "So...the song," you began.

"Yeah?"

"I shouldn't read too much into that, should I?"

He gently grabbed your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. "Look at me, pretty girl."

You lifted your eyes to meet his, biting your lip in worry.

He touched your face gently, eyes filled with adoration. "You're so beautiful you oughta be famous," he sang softly. "If I love you too much, I'm sorry."

Your breath caught in your chest and tears welled in your eyes.

"I meant every word, (Y/N)," he murmured. "I know we haven't been together all that long, but I love you so much. I can't imagine my life without you."

"Chris..." you whispered.

"You don't have to say anything, sweets, but I wanted you to know how I felt and that I don't wanna hide this anymore. I want the entire world to know I'm yours."

"Kiss me," you said softly.

He smiled and leaned forward to kiss you gently. He poured everything he was feeling into that kiss, and you did the same.

"God, you're so beautiful," he said reverently when he pulled away.

You blushed. "I love you, Chris," you whispered.

His eyes widened in surprise. "You do?"

You nodded. "I wanted to tell you a couple weeks ago, but I didn't want to scare you."

He chuckled lightly. "I thought I was going to scare you."

"I don't scare that easily," you teased.

"Thank god," he said with a smile.

"So...I guess we're public now?"

"I don't wanna hide this anymore, especially if you don't want to."

You shook your head. "I don't like the idea of strangers being in my business, but I love you, so it's worth it."

He pulled you back into him. "I love you, I love you, I love you," he mumbled into your hair.

You laughed and planted a kiss to his chest.

"Seriously, I'm going to say it all the damn time now. You'll get tired of hearing it."

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing it."

"Good," he kissed your forehead. "'Cause I love you."

You laughed as you curled into him. "I love you too, dork."

He sighed happily. "I don't think I'll get tired of hearing it either."

You settled into him comfortably and traced the words 'I love you' on his chest, just to make sure he knew exactly how you were feeling.

He squeezed you tightly and kissed the top of your head one last time before settling in to sleep. "Sweet dreams, my love."

"Sweet dreams, Chris."

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x reader smut #chris evans smut #rpf smut #chris evans rpf

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einsteinsugly · 20 days ago

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That 70s Show: A Fic Game!

Explanation:

Write a oneshot (or oneshots), in the month of November, using these prompts (aka, titles from popular 70s songs). You can pick whatever on whatever day you want; this is just a general guide. Tag it "t7sficgame," if you'd like.

*****

Rules (aka, there are no rules):

1. It doesn't have to take place in the 70s.

2. The prompt doesn't have to be in dialogue (although it's preferred, since I picked these song titles for their potential to be used in dialogue); prose is fine.

3. Post it here, or post it on AO3 or FF. Or everywhere. Take your pick.

****

Prompts:

Nov 1. Do It Again (Steely Dan)

Nov 2. Don't Look Back (Boston)

Nov 3. Don't Stop (Fleetwood Mac)

Nov 4. For All We Know (Carpenters)

Nov 5. I Can't Tell You Why (The Eagles)

Nov 6. I Will Survive (Gloria Gaynor)

Nov 7. I'll Be There (Jackson 5)

Nov 8. Isn't She Lovely (Stevie Wonder)

Nov 9. It's Too Late (Carole King)

Nov 10. Just What I Needed (The Cars)

Nov 11. Just You 'N Me (you can use "and me") (Chicago)

Nov 12. Let It Be (The Beatles)

Nov 13. Let's Go (The Cars)

Nov 14. Let's Stay Together (Al Green)

Nov 15. Love Of My Life (Queen)

Nov 16. Maybe I'm Amazed (Paul McCartney)

Nov 17. Miss You (The Rolling Stones)

Nov 18. More Than a Feeling (Boston)

Nov 19. One Way Or Another (Blondie)

Nov 20. She's Gone (Hall & Oates)

Nov 21. So Into You (Atlantic Rhythm Section)

Nov 22. Stayin' Alive (you can use "staying alive") (Bee Gees)

Nov 23. Take It Easy (The Eagles)

Nov 24. Thank You (Sly and the Family Stone/Led Zeppelin)

Nov 25. This Is It (Kenny Loggins)

Nov 26. Walk This Way (Aerosmith)

Nov 27. What's Going On (Marvin Gaye)

Nov 28. Won't Get Fooled Again (The Who)

Nov 29. You're My Best Friend (Queen)

Nov 30. You're So Vain (Carly Simon)

#that 70s show #fic game #testing the waters and stuff #t7sficgame

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zin-fan-del · 10 days ago

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Holdin' Out for a Hero

~5.000 word story featuring gay lizards and blueberry inflation. Also available for reading here on my main website!

"I've been holding out on this until I found someone like you." Windsor's words filled the quiet, dimly-rit room so suddenly it made the scales on Mehji's back momentarily crawl. Beneath the idyll autumn sceneries at the ranch house, he had been led to a room packed with machinery and chemical equipment. The crisp air and warm-hued leaves gave way to a well-camouflaged den of metallic greens and blues.

"Don't say cryptic things," the perturbed lizard just over half his height rebuked, keeping up pace behind his tour guide. His hands dug deep into the pockets of his sweatpants, despite the warmth radiating from the machines all over. As they walked, Mehji snuck several glances away from the curiosities all around to try and read Windsor's face. All he could make out was a confident, smug grin.

"So," the pale dragon's march stopped as the two approached an unusual display glowing with minty green light, "this is my magnum opus." He turned on a heel to face his guest, wearing the same baffling smirk… Next to this stellar contraption, though, a sparkle danced in his eyes.

Mehji's gaze broke with Windsor as he sized up the machine. Inside, like a sample floating in an enormous test tube, a full-body jumpsuit, boots, gloves and a mask were suspended. Looking at it, even up close, it was difficult to tell whether they were actually submerged in liquid or resin. The glass container appeared ethereal, draped in fluorescent viridian shining from lamps below. The tube was embedded in a steel base platform decorated by flickering control panel buttons.

The torso of the bodysuit was decorated with interweaving stripes that diverge and trace the outer arms and legs. A slim black belt featuring an elliptical metal buckle outlined in studs divided it in half vertically. The gloves and boots had cuffs shaped into wide spikes splayed outward. The lurid crimson fabric patterned with bold gray details appeared well-made, albeit strangely large and baggy.

"Is… is this your Halloween costume?" Mehji surmised, scratching the back of his head and forcing a smile. "It's, uh, cool. Which superhero was this again?"

Reacting to the lukewarm response, Windsor's face dropped into a disappointed frown. Unsure what he could have said wrong, Mehji chuckled nervously.

"This is not some measly costume. This… is Wrath." As the white dragon spoke of his creation, he turned to cast a prideful gaze thereupon, a smile creeping back onto his face.

"Isn't that one of those cardinal sins, mister…?" Mehji prodded jokingly. But Windsor simply sighed and faced him, speaking up with a serious tone.

"Mehji, do you remember the day we met?" Windsor's serious, seemingly off-the-cuff question was startling, though easily answered.

"Of course, though I barely believe it. We rolled people the size of zeppelins out of a restaurant��" Giving a brief nod, Windsor carried on.

"Aster City has been ravaged by that same incident happening again and again. People all over the place, in small groups, uncontrollably blowing up. It's a rapid growth that turns your body blue and fills you with juice." As he recounted the events of the past weeks, Windsor's eyes closed tight and he tapped between his brows with an index finger.

"The… the blueberries…" Mehji pulled a hand out of his pocket to insinctively carress his stomach, casting his mind back to the situation in question. His face must have contorted slightly as he spoke, because the taller reptilian's smug grin returned. A nervous feeling raging through Mehji spawned beads of sweat on his forehead.

"You were of great help that day. In fact, I don't think I've seen anyone else quite so excited to do heavy lifting." A gentle blush rose to Mehji's cheeks and his eyes forced themselves away.

"I- I just like being a helpful lil' guy, is all," the embarrassed green lizard attempted to clarify. "Was just following your instructions, really…"

"Then you won't mind putting this suit on for me." With a fluid motion, Windsor reached out and pressed a large eject button on the container's control panel. Immediately, the tube's glass walls slid down to the base, flooding the room in glowing seafoam hues. The garments gently fluttered down to the platformbeneath them, landing at Windsor's waist height.

"Right now? You want a superhero strip show?" Mehji jabbed into Windsor's side playfully with an elbow. "Ya gooner."

"W-what?!" Now, it was the alabaster reptile's turn to blush, which he poorly hid by turning his chin up and away. "To make fast-changing possible, it's designed to fit around any kind of dresswear. You don't even need to take your shoes… off…"

His spiel was abruptly interrupted upon reopening his eyes. Mehji's lower half was already stripped down to just boxers, and his arms were raised over his head to remove the white wifebeater formerly obscured by a large jersey. As he casually tossed the shirt into a pile of his other discarded clothes, their eyes locked. This time, it was Mehji's turn to meet a stunned, flushed face with a cocky smirk.

"What? Are you gay?" He teased, flexing his right bicep playfully. Windsor's jaw dropped but his brain had yet to catch upto speed.

"Well, but… It's not like… Y-you just don't have to, um, undress if you don't want to," the words raced each other out of his gaping maw, but Windsor's composure wasn't regained whatsoever.

"Enough yapping, you dork. You wanna see these guns in a tight suit?" Windsor's diamond eyes shot back and forth from the nearly-nude hunk actively teasing him, unable to conjure up words. "I wanna see more of that look on your face."

As he spoke, Mehji took hold of the suit and unfolded it before him. It unfurled all the way out onto the floor, despite being suspended in his hands over his head. Expeditiously, he unzipped the flashy suit from the top down to the tail-hole, and stepped inside with one leg.

"It's huge," he noted aloud while dressing himself. "You couldn't have secretly taken my measurements better?"

"… You'll see how it works," Windsor retorted, cheeks still rosy. Mehji raised a brow, uncertain what that could mean, but continued, trusting the dragon's guidance to be benign. As he slid his arms down the sleeves of the costume, he turned around.

"Help me out," Mehji instructed, gesturing with one hand at the zipper running down his back. Windsor stepped forward and, with a single decisive tug, closed it all the way up to his neck.

"Excellent. A perfect fit!" Windsor exclaimed with glee as Mehji slowly turned around. The suit was, contrarily, extremely loose and tall, despite being sealed quite firmly around his wrists, ankles, the base of his tail and the top of his neck. As he slid on the boots and gloves, Mehji felt the accessories snap into place like magnets. Despite the unflattering fit, there was a remarkable degree of care put into every piece.

"So, this is what you're into…?" Mehji probed, his tone landing between serious and jokingly pejorative. Most of the fabric was exaggeratedly draped around him like a blanket. He waved his arms slightly up and down, expectedly uncomfortable. "I think some, uh, adjustments might be necessary." From behind, Windsor raised the bandana-like mask up to the smaller reptile's eyes, fastening it into a secure knot below the spikes on his head. Despite their stark-white eyecaps, the mask conferred surprisingly unimpeded visibility.

"Quiet, now… Just follow my lead. You know which arm is your right one?"

"I'm not completely helpless, mister." Mehji smirked, and gestured with the according arm.

"Good. Snap your fingers with that hand."

"Like this?"

Upon triggering the click between his index finger and thumb, a small but distinct beep from the suit's chest area rang out. Before he could react, with the light sound of a vaccuum sealer, the entire garment restricted against his body.

"Guh--" Mehji gasped, puffing out his chest as he felt the soft fabric grow quickly tense. A sense of surprise stunned his jaw open as he held out both arms, contorting around to survey his body with wide eyes. "Holy… That scared me shitless." But as he continued to twist around, the initial shock gradually settling, an emphatic grin spread onto his face. "Hah… haha! Wow. How the fuck did you pull this off?"

The garment was fitted, in the blink of an eye, to perfection. Every curve of his body appeared sculpted beneath the unbelievably smooth fabric. With awe illuminating his visage, the green lizard was stunned into staring at himself in the reflection of a tall machine. This comfort level in such a tight garment was unthinkable to him. It would take hours of meticulous stitching to achieve anything similar.

"You look incredible." Windsor spoke up after letting his newly-dressed partner look himself over. He walked up behind the distracted man and planted both hands on his shoulders. Mehji, who had been on-edge just moments before, didn't react at all. "What you're looking at… What you're wearing… is how I'll fix the blueberries. This is Wrath."

"Your answer is to become a superhero?" Mehji curied, still transfixed on his own reflection. "I thought they caught the guy behind the breakouts already."

"Not quite." Windsor's hands began to explore his guest's figure. "I'm no hero. All I have is this flashy suit…" His palms follow the lines down Mehji's arms before gripping the sides of his chest and sliding down to his waist. "The blueberries just keep popping up, no matter how many culprits get arrested." His words kept Mehji from melting into the gentle massage. "You might now know, but some even remain afflicted long-term, expanding repeatedly…"

Mehji's body, mostly cool beneath the breathable bodysuit, couldn't resist warming up with big hands prodding at it. With an audible gulp, he stared into Windsor's calm eyes and spoke, "I thought permaberries were mythical."

"On the contrary, there are many. And twenty-ton life isn't easy in the city. You just don't fit in anywhere." Winsdor lifted his hands away from Mehji's hips and turned on a heel to take a few steps away. Windsor grew unxpectedly quiet as his brow shaded his downturned eyes. An indiscernable but painful emotion rose with him, expressed clearly through his self-assured facade.

"What're you going to do then? Find out whodunnit? Or run around, juicing everyone in your path?" Mehji brainstormed lightheartedly but his lanky suitor's demeanor refused to lighten.

"Nah." Click. Turning to face Windsor, Mehji heard the distinctive click priming the raygun pointed in his face, which began glowing with electric vigor. "I'm gonna make the problem so bad someone else solves it." Shivers rocketed up Mehji's spine and a sweat drop fell from his chin. "How about it? Just one beam and you'll get your dream body. It's like magic." Windsor responded, staring down his quaking partner deviously.

"W… wait…" the man sizing up a gun pointed his way sputtered. "What…? Dream body? It'll make me ripped if I want?" Mehji couldn't contain his questions, startled by the sudden attack. In his racing mind, the short lizard pictured himself bulging with muscles in the stunning red suit.

"Only if you truly dream of that." Windsor assured as the gun's charging light grew ever vibrant. Mehji groaned quietly, uncertain. Never in his dreams had he imagined himself so rich in brawn. But if this was a chance to quickly grow, he'd kick himself for declining.

So, with a face stiff as steel, he consented concisely.

"Hit me."

A bright ray blinded him as it collided with his midsection, disspating into him as a warm light. Windsor blew on the red-hot tip of the raygun forcefully, breaking up a steam cloud pouring off of it. As his eyes reopened, Mehji looked down to survey his body again, but nothing had visibly changed about it. He patted himself down with gloved hands, unable to sense any dramatic alterations to his figure as Windsor placed the raygun on a nearby counter.

"It didn't work…?" Mehji pumped an arm in the air, flexing it as dramatically as possible. "I haven't gained a pound."

Windsor laughed snidely. "It takes a while so you can really savor the change," He watched the suited-up lizard hastily squeeze at his own muscles, testing for any identifiable growth. "But it looks like it's working just fine to me."

Several questions rose to mind but were beaten to Mehji's lips by a loud belch. He raised a fist to cover it as best as possible, embarrassed. With his other hand, he rubbed at his belly just above his belt. Paying close attention, he could sense bubbles rising in his stomach before they rose sharply in volume. But still, his midsection was no flatter than normal. His brows furrowed in confusion.

"Surely this isn't a gun that just makes you gassy, mister?" Mehji joked. But as he pulled away the hand covering his mouth, he noticed a strange effect creeping its way down his arm. "Wait, huh…?" A deep cornflower color had sneakily appeared around his upper torso. On closer inspection, however, the splotchy effect was spreading like airbrushed paint toward his wrists. He leaned over, watching it race down his front, traveling past his groin and knees down his legs.

As the realization sank in, his breath paused momentarily, then picked back up into a rapid rhythm. As he turned his head back up, the sight of Windsor's euphoric grin made butterflies go wild in his stomach. Blood rushed to his face with such speed enough to nearly knock Mehji out. Embarassed to beet-red, he span around to the mirrored surface from just moments ago…

But the face that greeted him was a deep, rich indigo. In fact, in just seconds, blue hues swallowed his entire body, as though he was dipped in a vat of dye.

"I think I know where this is going," Windsor ominously murmured through a giddy sneer. Mehji's panicked eyes shot back up as his arms dropped to his side. "And that means I chose correctly with you," the taller lizard's tail grew erect as he watched on, struggling to contain elated laughter.

"No way," Inside his mind, Mehji was torn between fear and excitement. But his stomach was churning like an ice-cream machine, kicking up a racket even as he doubled over, pressing into it with both hands. "In my dreams, it doesn't… start this fast…" He was overcome with the sensation of having ravenously eaten past his limit. Through the thin fabric of his suit, he could feel his belly protruding scantly. Between the clamoring of his strained stomach and the soft gut where defined abs just were, the grumbling lizard began bloating up like he went overboard on soda.

The tall dragon released a deep belly-laugh he had kept bottled in for a while. Across the cool tiles he strode, placing a pair of fingers beneath Mehji's chin and lifting it to meet his gaze directly. He spoke warmly as he stroked it gently, ogling his helpless victim's face cloaked in the vivid hues of spirulina. "I'll keep you safe. I promise." Mehji swallowed dramatically as the gurgling from his gut continued, embarrassed to have his upset stomach heard by Windsor. But the white dragon stood close in front of him, their bodies separated by less than an inch. "Just enjoy the ride."

"Urk-!" Mehji, captured in the moment, momentarily forgot what situation he was in. He looked down in disbelief, his jaw slightly unhinged. "It's… really happening!" The juice filling him up spilled over. His belly, once meticulously slim, puffed up into a growing mass approaching the size of a basketball. In and out, the short lizard panted, trying to rationalize his situation. With a single curious hand, he pressed into the dramatically swelling paunch, leaving behind a dark handprint-shaped stain. He moaned as his gut kept duly stretching outward, pursing out over the tight belt cradling it from below.

Windsor pressed his waist into the ballooning lizard's girth, wrapping an explorative arm around his waist. "How's it feel…?" His voice dipped into deep tones as he uttered the question, eyes meticulously soaking in every inch of his subject.

"I can't stop filling up…" Mehji spat out between breaths, his body overtaken by a flurry of senses. "You're going to fucking pop me!" He ballooned so quickly and with such force that a natural sense of alarm rang out. But as Windsor's weight leaned into the sensitive, swollen pillow forming on his front, a rapturous pleasure overtook him. Its forceful growth continued unabated, blocking his view below his own midriff, before juice began to trickle out into the rest of his body.

"You'll be alright," Windsor spoke with a genuine tone that betrayed his devious expression. "Just relax, berry boy. Your fantasies are coming true."

At once, both of his breasts swelled up, spurning another gutteral noise from Mehji. His chest pressed against his chin as it grew, deepening the ecstasy gradually welling up in him. As he stared into Windsor's calm eyes his anxious trembling from before dissolved into a ravishing calm. With a smooth motion, Windsor's fingers cupped around his partner's asscheek, giving it a firm squeeze.

As if choreographed, Mehji's cheeks surged with juice. First, his ass ballooned outward, the pressure of Windsor's squeeze growing as it pressed into it. A rush of delight soared in Mehji, to whom the sensation of a hand on his taut skin felt electric, only intensifying as billows of juice pumping into him.

Moments later, desperate for room, the juice worked its way up past his chest. His lips pursed, pressed together by his face swelling as though with millions of calories at once. Mehji's eyes rolled back uncontrollably, unable to be kept in control as the tide of sweet liquid sqeezed itself inside of him. The emotions ripping through him, spurred on by the pressure of Windsor's sensual grip, overloaded his thoughts.

"Now this is what I'm into…" Windsor grumbled, his face twisted in a nefarious, turned-on smirk. As Mehji ballooned up in his arms, staggering at the sheer heft of his burgeoning frame, he was forced to step back. Gripping the sides of the swollen lizard's waist, he admired his handiwork with delight. With each deep breath, his nostrils were filled with the scent of fresh blueberry. He bit his lower lip to hold in an unhinged moan.

"You gotta help me, man…!" Mehji shouted as his limbs fattened up with ease, forcing him to extend them into a pose like a starfish. The gurgling, creaking bedlam from inside of him overwhelmed his ears as he gushed with fluid. His skintight suit squeezed against his inflating body, stubbornly refusing to break at even a single seam. The dark juice handprints staining his apparel had spread to encompass him entirely. Traces of the saccharine violet fluid were pressed out of Mehji's every pore, stickying the floor with a puddle beneath his feet.

"How am I… supposed to live… as a blueberry?" Words eked out of the stout reptile's mouth between heavy breaths. He waddled about, desperately redistributing his ballooning weight. At first, most of his girth localized around his waist. But the unrelenting pressure mounting within him forced its way outward, rounding his frame out smoothly. Rapidly transforming in such a revealing costume was embarassing, no matter how well it contained his bulging form.

"Well, for starters, I hope you like the flavor." Windsor joked, stepping back again. "But besides that, you don't have to do much of anything. Kick back and go with the flow." Then, with a swift but gentle tackle, he shoved into the massive lizard. With a yelp, Mehji stumbled back before his balance gave out and his gargantuan rear collided with the ground. "Not that you have much of a choice at this point."

Mehji flapped his limbs with all the force he could muster, but they resisted, steadily growing bulkier with each passing second. All he could do was wiggle his hands and feet, reveling in the sensation of being blown up into the spitting image of a blueberry.

His legs had grown so wide that they seemed to melt into the girth of his waist. His feet wriggled, vainly struggling against the force of his round groin gradually swallowing them up. The bubbling juice roared as it surged up his body to fill out his torso similarly, trapping his hands. As he swelled into a near-perfect sphere, losing complete control of his distended body, his suit miraculously stretched to encompass it seamlessly. The growing lizard moaned and groaned, eyes darting around to observe his impossibly huge body progressively expanding. Forced apart by his torso, he helplessly watched his hands disappear over the sides of his own burgeoning figure.

Windsor, with ever-curious hands, felt at the seams of the suit running flush down Mehji's spherical body. Despite showing obvious signs of tension, it remained unbroken, even around the areas that had fattened up the most. The thin belt wrapped snugly around the blueberry's midsection caused his flesh to purse gently around it. Like an artist surveying their own masterpiece, he radiated with joy, staring on at Mehji with a serene smile.

But Mehji continued to inflate. As he fattened beyond his own range of reach, his feet were ungrounded by the swelling fat between them. His body balloned outward, rising up like a nearly-full beach ball being topped off with air. Back and forth his globular body rocked, skin and suit creaking as though reaching their limits. Mehji's limbs stretched as far as they could, but his body swallowed them up as it swelled even wider.

"Mmph! Mmmm…" While being sucked into his swelling body, Mehji's plump cheeks sealed his mouth shut. All he could manage to vocalize were quiet grunts. He could hardly turn his head, let alone see over the rising girth encompassing it. Even his most mobile parts were similarly trapped, leaving his hands and feet incapable of more than gentle wiggling. "Helpff…" Raised up by his round backside, staring at the metallic ceiling, a single weak word rose to his lips.

"You're so ripe, I could just take a big, fat bite…" Windsor walked back up to the blueberry and embraced it again, pressing his face into the smooth, taut surface. "Or bake the world's biggest pie."

Rounding out, Mehji felt his inflation start to ease for the first time. As his creaking frame finally blew past Windsor's height, it rocked around its center point. The blueberry lizard's weight rocketed exponentially as the final traces of juice surged into him in a quick, steady burst. With that, Mehji moaned loudly, his face too swollen to vocalize anything more complex. As the final wave poured into him, slowing his expansion to a trickle, all that could be heard in the dark room was the raucous sloshing of fluid settling inside him.

Mehji was desparate to shout if it would relieve even a tiny fraction of the pressure to which he had been filled. Despite being painless, his turgid body was in an extreme excess of pressure beyond that which any person could reasonably reach. His face was still hot with feverish embarrassment, stressed largely by the immobility that so immediately overtook him.

"In fact, I have many plans for you," Windsor continued. While talking, he shifted his weight down, rolling the taut round balloon toward himself. It took a few tugs to position him correctly, but eventually, Mehji's puffy face appeared over the top of the round mass. The two watched each other intently as Mehji continued rolling, only coming to a halt as his face pointed down to meet Windsor's head-on. "You're the biggest berry I've ever seen, and that's saying something." Just like before, Windsor stuck a single hand beneath Mehji's bloated chin, caressing it with passion-filled eyes.

But this time, he leaned in to plant a kiss on Mehji's lips. The two closed their eyes and the moment froze for just a second before the lanky dragon pulled back.

"Thank you," he murmured, staring the blueberry straight in the eyes. "Now, go ahead and snap again. Right hand."

It took a moment before Mehji processed what he had been told. The sensation of being trapped in his own engorged body was frankly stunning. Moments later, though, he weakly forced his fingers together, accomplishing a single quiet snap. Instinctively, Windsor raised a single arm to cover his eyes and held his breath.

Incomprehensibly speedily, Mehji felt high tension envelop his entire body, pressing inward in all directions. "Holy--!" Before he could make sense of it, the fat distorting his face disappeared, allowing him to emit half of a startled interjection. Like a water balloon being popped, he deflated, a surge of juice spraying out and covering the room in all directions. As though his transformation played out in reverse, he was pressed completely free of juice in just seconds. In fact, it occurred so quickly that his belly was lifted away from the ground, leaving the short lizard momentarily suspended in mid-air.

But such conditions did not last, as he came tumbling down to the ground, landing on what remained of his cushy paunch before it quickly reverted to its original flat shape. As the wave of juice freed from him landed, raining from the ceiling, he clambered to his feet with a hand on his pounding head.

"I… I popped. I thought you said…" Mehji grumbled, patting at his midsection grumpily. At first, his perceived betrayal by Windsor sparked in him a flash of anger. But as he patted himself down top to bottom with both hands, looking over his decidedly normal-looking body, it fizzled out. "What kind of wizardry is this?"

"Hahahaha," Windsor laughed heartily before scooping Mehji up into a bear hug. Oddly, the former was drenched in deep blue juice, while the latter had reverted to his typical coloration. It ere as though it never changed. "It worked! What a success!"

"Whoa, whoa, what do ya mean?!" Mehji, held up by a pair of arms around his midsection, continued to survey his own hands. "How did you get all that out of me so fast?"

"Alright, I'll explain," the tall dragon set Mehji back down on his feet gently. "This was all a test for that suit. It didn't break and the compression mechanism worked flawlessly." Mehji gave a baffled look, so he continued. "It can basically squeeze you back to shape. See, look! That was all in you!"

Windsor spun around with his hands extended wide, smiling more than anyone witnessing so much property damage ever should. There was a thin pool of juice beneath their feet and not a single centimeter of wall space wasn't coated in the substance. Mehji patted his belly, cogs turning in his head, as he examined the damage.

Did any of that even really happen? He thought pensively. Is this… a dream right now?

"Do you… wanna give these suits out to people?" Mehji inquired, trying to imagine what could have motivated such a mystical invention. "That's your plan to solve the blueberry epidemic?"

"No," Windsor replied directly, still surprisingly cheerful. "Like I said, this world isn't built to accomodate for berries to exist." While speaking, he strolled over to the table upon which the raygun from earlier was set. Mehji recoiled instinctively as he picked it up but relaxed upon seeing it resting on its side in his open palms.

"I must admit I lied about this," Windsor gingerly raised the weapon in the air. "This gun just makes blueberries out of everyone it hits. The only thing here that can read your dreams… is me."

Struck at the understanding that he had been deceived, Mehji's mouth fell agape. What he had just experienced was a snowstorm of emotions hardly able to be captured by words.

"My plan? Simply fill the world with blueberries until it changes." Windsor laid out his intentions plainly.

"Are you the one who started all this, then?" Mehji probed with a gravely serious tone, still unmoving from where he originally stood up.

"No," answered Windsor, his eyes fixed upon his partner to convey his words with identical gravity. "I have my suspicions as to who did but am uncertain." For a moment, in the sickly-sweet subterranean study, the two tensely stared each other down. "So, with all that said…" Windsor stepped forward, still suspending the gun in outstretched arms. "I would like to ask you to be my partner in crime."

Mehji could not have predicted what transpired in the past few minutes. As he looked down at the firearm being given to him, he reached up with a single gloved hand to accept it but froze just inches away. With unsteady eyes, he sought for comfort in Windsor's warm, intent smile. Then, returning his focus, he picked it up by the handle, resting a careful finger on the trigger guard.

The weapon entered his grip comfortably, weighing subtantially less than he anticipated. Windsor relaxed his arms at his sides, glowing with pride at the sight of Mehji in his suit.

"I suppose that does sound a little fun," Mehji smirked as he posed with the gun pointed toward the porcelain-white dragon. He held it for a moment before angling his aim to just narrowly miss to the right. "Who know what else you have stashed down here, too?"

For the first time since he began swelling, Mehji soaked in the room in close detail as he lowered his weapon. All around him were workstations, machinery, tools and clothing. The scene was almost fantastical, decorated with active monitors and branding painted across the walls. A rather simplistic emblem in the shape of a W appeared in more places around the laboratory than he originally noticed.

"Well, in that case, welcome to Wrath HQ… rookie." Windsor's frigidly serious demeanor defroze as he offered a playful handshake. With his empty hand, Mehji reached out and accepted it. "So, how's about we get to cleaning u--?!"

Rambling made Windsor visibly inattentive, so Mehji gave him a swift tug on the arm, pulling the two men into a firm embrace. Before his eyes could flutter open, the short lizard delivered a passionate kiss unto the lips of the other. With one of Mehji's arms around his waist, Windsor let himself slide into the liplock.

Suddenly, the room flashed white. A warm sensation disspiated into Windsor from his back. As though unbothered, he pulled away from kissing the man that just shot him with a toothy, satisfied grin.

"Before that…" Mehji looked directly into Windsor's eyes as he tossed away the still-warm raygun. "I wanna see if your dream body is the same as mine…" He gripped behind Windsor's ass firmly on both sides as the two reptiles pressed into each other, exchanging loving, menacing grins. "…And I wonder if juice tastes sweeter when harvested with revenge." Windsor took in a deep breath as he rested his arms on Mehji's broad shoulders. "Don't hold out on me, now…"

But across the happy face he gazed into longingly, a vivid blue had already begun to spread.

#myart #body inflation #male #blueberry inflation #male belly inflation #expansion #male blueberry inflation #body expansion #male inflation #windsor #mehji #writing #stories

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jiangwanyinsimp · 6 months ago

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An Incomplete (and Very Long) list of thing Edwin Payne missed while he was stuck in Hell

This list emerged because I was talking about how he would have missed the end of World War One and then the list kept going. It is not complete or in order, and is provided simply for posterity

ww2

spanish flu

the hindenburg disaster

the rise of public radio

Irish independence

fast food as a concept

the hinterkaifeck murders

the extinction of the california grizzly

the discovery of Tutankhamun's tomb

television

jet aircraft

supersonic aircraft

the moon landing

THE OFFICIAL FOUNDING OF THE SOVIET UNION

the jazz age

surrealism

the first woman to swim the english channel

the BBC

Amelia Earhart

Tintin

the discovery of Pluto

the crash of airship R101

the founding of porsche

the geneva convention

UK abandonment of the gold standard

the discovery of 22 elements on the periodic table

technicolor

Australia starting and losing the Emu war

the creation of the Royal Christmas message

the Great Depression

FM radio

the first canned beer

pre-sliced bread

the recognition of stress as a biological condition

the extinction of the thylacine

the destruction of the Crystal Palace

the first full feature length animated film (Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs)

the nylon bristle toothbrush

Batman

the last use of the guillotine for an official state execution

Gone With the Wind (the book AND the film)

the founding of Greggs

Looney Tunes

the discovery of the Lascaux cave paintings

Agatha Christie's works

Cheerios

the discovery of nuclear fission and all subsequent nuclear discoveries

the airplane ejection seat

The Little Prince

LSD

the lifting of the prohibition of married British women working as teachers

the disappearance of flight 19

the first formula one grand prix

Mensa

the invention of the magic 8 ball

the Doomsday Clock

the AK-47

the first commercial microwave

the Kinsey reports

the first time Idaho Fish and Game parachuted beavers into the wild

humanity's entry to space

the beginning of the broadcast of the Archers (the longest running present day drama by number of episodes)

the Korean War

the polio vaccine

the first nuclear powered submarine

The Lord of the Rings

Moomins

transistor radio

the TV dinner/ready meal

ICBMs

the entire life of Elvis Presley

Kermit the Frog

My Fair Lady (the film and musical adaptations)

Grace Kelly's wedding

the Entire Life Of Marilyn Monroe

the Beat Generation

Eurovision

Helvetica typeface

the peace symbol

the Cod Wars

computer games

Dyatlov Pass incident

Barbie

Missile Mail

the Declaration of the Rights of the Child

the MOSFET

particle accelerators

the Beatles

the recovery of the Vasa

the first Six Flags

Breakfast at Tiffany's

Catch-22

the Vietnam War

Silent Spring

The Rolling Stones

the night of the long knives

Vatican II

James Bond

the Cuban Missile Crisis

Thích Quảng Đức's self-immolation

the "I Have A Dream" speech

JFK Assassination

the smiley face

Mary Poppins (1964)

IntelSat

the last British execution

high speed rail

the first time "fuck" was said on british tv

the Moors Murders

the Grateful Dead

the British parliament decriminalizing homosexuality

most of the literary career of Pablo Neruda

Fleetwood Mac

the Parker Morris Standards

the end of steam passenger travel in the UK

Led Zeppelin

Earth Day

the first temporary artificial heart

the first person to row an ocean solo

Woodstock

the Zodiac Killer

the nationalization of Rolls-Royce

decimalisation of UK currency

the first e-book

the first microprocessor

DB Cooper

the first email

the Biological Weapons Convention

Watergate

the start of the Troubles

The Joy of Sex

all attempts to climb Mount Everest and the eventual first ascent

ABBA

the invention of the Rubik's Cube

the Moorgate tube crash

the first Cricket World Cup

the global eradication of Smallpox

Star Wars

the Tenerife airport disaster

the discovery of the rings of Uranus

Red Rum winning three Grand Nationals

the Concorde

the start of the broadcast of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Jonestown

Synthetic insulin

the Thorpe affair

the release of God Save the Queen by the Sex Pistols

Monty Python

the election of Margaret Thatcher

Star Trek

Iron Maiden

the incident where the dingo ate a baby in Australia

the end of iron and steel production in the UK's Black Country

the first London Marathon

Charles and Diana's wedding

the church of England votes to elect women to holy orders

the 1981 UK tornado outbreak

the first child born by IVF

the Falklands War

the raising of the Mary Rose

the invention of ciabatta bread

the discovery of the Titanic

the King's Cross Fire

Top Gun

Lockerbie bombing

#dead boy detectives #shit andy says #I don't honestly have an explanation for this #edwin payne

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 1 year ago

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the domestic lover kappa hcs got me thinking about reader giving kappa head in their old vw van while on the road………

This ask just sent me into the orbit, nonnie! I'm having thots about this while whipping put my Led Zeppelin vinyls! 🤭🌻

🌻- Smutty domestic!hippie!lover!Kappa HCs under the cut, 18+! -🌻

🌻 Whole Lotta Love By Led Zeppelin (this record would be one of your all-time favourites, playing nearly nonstop!)

🌻 I have the slight feeling that Kappa would be a bit reluctant about you fumbling around with the zipper of his pants at first.

"C'mon, sugar, really? Right now? Need to focus on the road! Please..." He tries to reason with you.

🌻 But as soon as his pants are unbuttoned and your mouth is around his girth, he'd be sold for good.

"Fuck, good God!" He groans out, with his fist tightly wrapped around the steering wheel.

🌻 While guiding your lips up and down his cock, you just smile to yourself, attentively listening to all the needy sounds he utters.

"Babe, you can't do this to me right now, please. Do you want me to stop at the roadside?"

🌻 You give him a muffled "Nuh-uh!" while taking him all the way back into your throat, feeling the tip of his cock twitching a little.

"You'll be the death of me!" He groans out while his other hand is reaching for the shift to adjust the gear.

🌻 Accompanied by a little chuckle, you just shrug your shoulders while you continue with driving Kappa a little out of his mind with your mouth and tongue alone.

🌻 As you blow him, your tongue presses against the underside of his cock, licking and sloppily lapping over the especially sensitive head.

"Please, you know I don't last long when you do it like this!" He whines, his eyes still focusing on the road ahead with all the concentration he can gather.

🌻 That's exactly where you want to have him, a little whiny, a little needy, trying not to lose his composure.

"Sugar, why are you like this?!" He groans, his hard on throbbing deep down your throat, "Fuck... could've just fucked you at the next stop-gap!"

🌻 With another thrust down his cock, you feel his girth throbbing, rendering rigid before he shoots his white-hot, sticky load down your throat, his grip slightly slurring with the steering wheel, leading the whole van to

#tam rambles #asks are appreciated #asks are always open #rory culkin #kappa black mirror #kappa #kappa x you #kappa x fem!reader #kappa x reader #kappa smut

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louisupdates · 1 year ago

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The fact that Louis Tomlinson performed two covers of One Direction songs at his May 26 show at the Mohegan Sun Arena should not be a surprise.

After all, he was a member of the best-selling boy band and one of its chief songwriters.

The fact that he performed a cover by Arctic Monkeys, however, would be a surprise if you had not updated your vision of Tomlinson since his pop days with 1D.

The rocking performance at the Uncasville arena, thanks to Tomlinson’s honesty and sincerity as he attacked his material, clearly indicated that his preferred sound of the moment is the Brit Pop pioneered by Arctic Monkeys– and not the boy band groove of One Direction.

While his former bandmate Harry Styles has gone all metrosexual sophisticated as he mines his own 21st century brand of smart pop, Tomlinson favors guitar solos and intensity in his post-1D universe.

The Brit has not gone completely Led Zeppelin on us, full of blues and devoid of hooks. There were plenty of catchy melodic turns of phrase that captured the ear beneath the power chords and helped grab hold of the hearts and ears of a primarily female audience that likely had not reached their junior year of high school yet.

The rocking sound was not about career opportunities or slumming. It was clear this is where Tomlinson’s heart and soul belonged.

That said, Tomlinson’s chosen genre also has been a good career choice.

By all rights, since One Direction was launched in 2010 (when Tomlinson was still in his teens), most of the 16-year-olds who swooned over him in the second decade of the 21st century would be at the cusp of their 30s at a concert in 2023. But most of Tomlinson’s fans at the Mohegan were on the younger side of the teens with only a scattering of old school 1D fans in the mix.

Tomlinson’s musical mood swing has revitalized his continuing commercial prospects. His current album, the mighty fine “Faith in the Future” debuted at number 5 on the Billboard charts.

All the more amazing at the Friday night show is that the young crowd at the Mohegan seemed to know every word from each song on Tomlinson’s setlist. At times, they even drowned out the artist.

Tomlinson clearly has snagged the hearts and souls of a new generation of fans.

When I first listened to “Faith in the Future” last year, I was hearing hints of old school emo. But in concert, the Arctic Monkeys’ references were clear. However, even more clear for me was Tomlinson’s fondness for Oasis. That 1990s-era band was prone to Beatle-esque flourishes with grand arrangements that caused the heart to swell and fists to elevate as they were pumped in the air. And many of the songs performed by Tomlinson in Uncasville on this Friday night had those sweeping moments that carried you along to emotional crescendos.

Tomlinson’s rock and roll inclinations carried over to the stage show itself.

The first night of the tour found Tomlinson surrounded by edgy lighting with oblique and abstract video projections. There were a couple of times where the lighting reminded me of something that a band like goth-godparents Bauhaus or Sisters of Mercy would implement. It also reminded me of latter-day David Bowie shows.

Rather than guiding the emotions with videos that tell a story (which many artists will do), Tomlinson’s stage set a mood for the songs and left the internal storytelling of the songs to the fans themselves.

The stage and lighting were the antithesis of what Tomlinson might have found himself in his One Direction days.

One Direction, for most musicians, would be a hard act to follow. But Tomlinson’s Mohegan show demonstrates there is quite a vibrant rock and roll life after Simon Cowell (One Direction’s one-time career commandant) for this singer.

Tomlinson set the stage for a night of rock with his selection of opening acts. Snarls offered up a hard-hitting punkish set with a heavy musical punch. The four-man crew The Academic gave the crowd a melodic new wave-twinged set that would easily have found favor in the colorful days of the 1980s.

PHOTOS 1, 2, 3

#louis press #louis tomlinson #fitfwt23: uncasville #26.5.2023

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mattmurdocksstarlight · 11 months ago

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Rules: pick a song for each letter of your URL and tag that many people.

Thank you for tagging me @shouldbestudying41 ❤️❤️

M - Minimum by Muse

A - Arabella by Arctic Monkeys

T - Tomorrow Never Knows by The Beatles

T - Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino by Arctic Monkeys

M - Misery by The Beatles

U - Unintended by Muse

R - R U Mine? by Arctic Monkeys

D - Dragon Attack by Queen

O - One Hit (To The Body) by The Rolling Stones

C - Catapult by Arctic Monkeys

K - Knee Socks by Arctic Monkeys

S - Substitute by The Who

S - Starlight by Muse

T - Time Is Running Out by Muse

A - Achilles Last Stand by Led Zeppelin

R - Resistance by Muse

L - Love is a Laserquest by Arctic Monkeys

I - In Your World by Muse

G - Guiding Light by Muse

H - Hysteria by Muse

T -Taxman by The Beatles

Tagging @chvoswxtch @bellaxgiornata @loveroftoomanyfandoms @she-likesorchids @hellscupboards @amberlynnmurdock @kayhi808 @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @taliaxxb @mattmurdockscox @babygrlmurdock and who ever else wants to join!!

#tag game #tag games

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littlewalken · 6 hours ago

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A quick who's who guide to The Cure for baby bats joining the fan club. If you're not sure about any treats ask if Roger made them and that should explain it. :p

The original line up- Robert, Michael, and Lol. Porl/Pearl was with them for a while but not by the time of recording and touring Three Imaginary Boys/Boys Don't Cry. This is the time when Robert first became a Banshee and Lol's encounter with Billy Idol.

Lol, Robert, Matthieu, and Simon, they record Seventeen Seconds, Matthieu will introduce keyboards but not be around long. Perry will see them in concert shortly after Simon joins.

Robert, Simon, Lol, they record Faith and P*rn*graphy eventually self destructing.

Just Robert and Lol will be The Cure for a while as Robert has to decide if he wants to stay with Siouxsie and The Banshees or not. He will also record Blue Sunshine with Steve Severin as The Glove using Andy Anderson to drum and Porl/Pearl Thompson to round out the band for a TV appearance. Robert will use up his supply of drugs they don't make anymore while working on the songs that will appear on Japanese Whispers and The Top.

Robert, Lol, Andy, Phil who plays bass on Lovecats which is part of the reason Simon hates Lovecats.

Phil, Pearl, Robert, Andy, Lol. This is the line up for the Borrowlands and Japanese concert videos. Perry is hired as a roadie around this time.

Phil, Porl/Pearl, Robert, Lol, Vince. After the Japan concert Andy does not continue with The Cure for the American leg of the tour so they bring in Vince Ely (Psychedelic Furs) for a few dates. He is unable to stay with them so Phil uses his contacts to find another drummer.

Lol, Boris, Robert, Porl/Pearl, Phil will finish out the tour. Soon Phil will have commitments to producing other bands and will leave.

Simon, Robert, Lol, Boris, Porl/Pearl. They will record Head on the Door and Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me along with the video Live in Orange. Roger will see one of these shows and not be too impressed. As Lol starts to self destruct it's realized they will need a better keyboard player on tour.

Lol, Boris, Porl/Pearl, Robert. Simon, Roger. Boris will call in his former Thompson Twins touring band member Roger who just finished working with, of all bands, the Psychedelic Furs. They will tour then Robert will invite Roger to stay as they begin working on Disintegration. Anything Lol records for the album will be rerecorded by Roger at Robert's insistence.

Robert, Roger, Porl/Pearl, Boris, Simon. Lol leaves because of personal problems, touring goes on, Roger eventually leaves.

Porl/Pearl, Boris, Simon, Robert, Perry. This line up appears in Play Out, does MTV Unplugged, and makes the Wish album. Porl leaves to start his family but will tour with half of Led Zeppelin and appear in their No Quarter video and album. Jason is among the crowd at Gastonbury with the helicopter incident.

Perry, Simon, Robert, Boris will only play once for the Great Xpectations concert. Boris will leave.

Jason, Simon, Robert, Roger, Perry. They will be the only line up to record three albums- Wild Mood Swings, Bloodflowers, and The Cure. They will do the Trilogy video. Robert will meet Reeves at this time and perform at Bowie's 50th birthday concert. A performance with Placebo will introduce Perry to future Love Amongst Ruin bandmate Steve Hewitt.

Perry and Roger will leave under questionable circumstances leaving Robert, Simon, and Jason as a trio for a short time.

Simon, Jason, Porl/Pearl, Robert. The album 4:13 dream will be recorded, a concert video will be filmed, Porl/Pearl will leave again.

Robert, Roger, Jason, Simon, Lol. The Reflections Tour will be a short lived series of concerts celebrating the first three albums played in full. Roger will stay, Lol will not.

Reeves, Simon, Robert, Roger, Jason. They will do several concert videos, including the 30th anniversary of Disintegration and the 40th of the band, and eventually record and put out Songs of A Lost World.

Simon's son and guitar tech Eden will play two concerts in his place when Simon can't appear for personal reasons.

Perry will be brought back to tour the Songs of A Lost world. Roger is not on the South American leg of the tour but returns.

Almost forgot to add in 2019 ten members of The Cure was inducted in to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Porl/Pearl, Boris, Michael, (Trent from NiN), Lol, Robert, Perry, Jason, Roger, Simon, Reeves.

#the cure #robert smith #baby bats

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noblesixjm04 · 2 years ago

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Shadows and Ghosts

Pairing: Ghost x Reader

Reader type: Gender neutral

Song: ramble on -Led Zeppelin

Warnings: Smut.

An: I know it's not halo related but I couldn't help myself lol.

There is something about cold nights that makes the world dark. In its silence. The noiseless breeze. It's stillness. The rest of the world seems non-existent in these moments. It leaches the very warmth from your body. Pulls it as if it to is desperate for company.

These are the thoughts that accompany you on top of the cliff face. Buried in snow and shadowed by trees. You breathe on nothing but cold air. Even through the thick fabric of your balaclava.

The snow falls thickly. The trees catch most of it. Despite this it still covers you. Hiding your body from the world. From the skies watchful eye. The snow fall leaves streaks of white in your rifle's scope. The world seems in hues of green.

"Shade. You copy?" It's Soaps voice that cuts the ice. Brings you back to this reality. Away from memories past.

The cold offers back some warmth.

"Copy." Your voice is barely audible. As if the very air has stolen it from your lips.

"Tangos on your position. Three trucks. Target is in the second." His voice to, is quiet. Watching all of this from afar. Leaving you to do what you do best.

Blend with the shadows.

It is moments later that you see them. Dark trucks against white snow. Their headlights cut through the night. Carving a path they will no longer be allowed to follow.

You feel your chest clench. Heart rests in your stomach. Just a for a moment. There then gone. Jitters you have long since dispelled. Back when your hands were cleaner and soul more pure.

Your clothed cheek presses on the stock of your gun. The safety is clicked off. Your finger hovers away, but close to the trigger.

You breathe. Adjust the scope.

Tuck one pulls ahead. Stopping as it comes upon the barricade that had been set up earlier. The heavy snowfall had hidden all signs of your teams being there hours before.

Truck two stops. The engine killed. Lights still on. Three is close behind it.

Three men step out. Then four.

Tinted windows make it difficult to see into.

The scope adjusts again. Time stills. A window rolls down. Spares an inch.

He looks right at you. Blood red hair. Dark eyes. He calls out.

Silence.

Shattered.

Red against black.

Your eyes close.

Noise. Deafening. Yelling. Shouting.

Your eyes open.

You rose. Slide backwards into the shadows you were named for.

You hear them before you see them. Two men running on your left. There is no thinking as your gun is raised.

Gun smoke. Acidic. It burns your lungs. A violent echo of the fireworks of your childhood. You don't stay to see them fall.

There is more again. You see them just outside the rendezvous zone. You cling to the side of a hollowed out car. A wrecking yard between you and where you need to go.

They scan the area back to back. Sweeping thier guns to find you. You wait for them to pass before moving. Praying that the silence of the night will swallow any noise you make.

Again there is Soap. Telling you to double back. That's there's been a compromise. A leak. An end left loose.

You give him an affirmative. An estimated time.

The trees away as you walk. The moon the only light for your path. Not for the first time you wish for the warmth of the sun.

It will not come if you do not make it.

You see them before they do you. They feel the bite of your knife at their throat. A final breath in. Blood spills. Their eyes dull. Yet another soul on your heavy shoulders. You guide them as gently as you can. Pulling their body into the darkness.

Perhaps she will have her fill and spare you.

You are there. You can see him. Hear the rumbling of the engine. Your body is both cold and hot. The snow is piled high now. Well above your knees.

It's like a dream as you move. Body fast but movements slow.

You breathe in. Close your eyes.

A break in the air.

Your body slumps forward. The snow catches you. Blood, thick and heavy, spills past your lips. Coats your balaclava.

You can't breathe.

Your name is in the air. Shouting. Your body laxes. Vision blurs.

The sky. You can see the sky. A break in the clouds reveals the stars. Shimmering against the darkness.

Your face burns from the cold and still you cannot breathe.

"Shade? Shade!" The voice fades out. The night swallows you.

Your body bounces. Back arching as pain hits you. Breathing is easier now. Just barely. There is a face above you. Men beside you.

Your cry. Reach out. Unaware of who is friend and for.

Again your name.

A skull. Blacked out eyes. Your body freezes.

Death? Has she come for you?

"No. Not if we have anything to do about it."

Warm. You are warm and floating. Someone is beside you. Your head turns. Neck stiff and hurting.

A soft smile you did not deserve. Death? Did you miss her? They speak your name. Call out for another. You let the darkness pull you back in.

One week. For one week you've been pulled in and out of conciseness. You were lucky. The doctors told you. The person had taken a bad shot. Any closer and you would have.

You shake your head and pull away from those thoughts. Focus back on the card game. You hear a chuckle. Look to your left.

"Still with us Shade?" You shrug. Take a drink of your soda.

"Mostly." You answer truthfully. That shot had left you with an aching side and few to many stitches.

It was the dreams that pained you the most.

"Well. Stay with us. I want you to see Soaps face when he loses." Soap yells something unintelligible in response. A"Get fucked." Follows after.

The game goes for another hour. The others complain when you tell them that you're turning in early. You promise you'll join them soon. The painkillers made you to drowsy to continue.

You bump into Ghost on the way to your room. He says nothing. Does little else. His eyes follow you. You stop beside him. Offer a loopy smile.

He says nothing. Eyes closing as he looks away. Barely. Just barely you see his hands clench.

That night you dream of kills and death. Of shadows and Ghosts. Red against white.

His breath with yours.

"Is Ghost avoiding me?" You ask Soap. The two of you sat at either end of a small table. Guns torn apart. The smell of oil and residual gun powder hangs in the air.

"An what makes you ask that?" He doesn't look up from the barrel he is cleaning. The rag makes a soft sound as it's ran along the metal.

"I almost never see him anymore. And when I do he just." You pause. "He just leaves." You shake your head. It stings. Hurts more than you're willing to admit. "Nearly a week and a half and not a word." You reach for the gun oil. "Did I say something Soap?" You could hear the hurt in your voice. Soap shrugs his shoulders.

"Hard to tell with him sometimes." Soap spoke. "But no. You didn't." He glances at you with a smile on his lips. "He is pouting though."

You bark out a laugh that ends in uncontrollable snickering. "Ghost? Pout?" It takes a minute for you to catch your breath as the ache in your side grows. You wince and see Soaps face go soft. Sad almost. There but not.

"He was worried. Y'know?" He glances at you. Looks away. "When you were shot. We thought you were going to die. God." He shakes his head. "You lost a lot of blood out there." Your hands still.

"I barely remember it." You spoke softly. Just above a whisper. "Not the pain just." You swallow thickly. "I remember not being able to breathe." The rag and oil fall from your hands. You slump back I to your chair. Drawing your arms arms around your sides. "I remember the stars so clearly. Then the skull." You brush your hand over your hair. "I thought death finally came for me." You spoke with a hollow laugh.

The energy had shifted to a more somber tone. There is nothing for a moment. The shuffle of someone outside. The hum of the lights.

"He didn't stop lookin' at ya." Spoke Soap. "He." A pause. "I've never seen him look like that. His eyes." The barrel is layed on the table. "Its like he was somewhere else."

The two of you say little else. You almost regret asking. Almost preferring the ignorance of before.

Ghost? Caring? Not impossible to believe. He cared in his own way just.

Not like that. He doesn't go out of his way to pretend the others don't exist when they're injured. So why you? What made it different this time?

The two of you finished. Guns cleaned. Parts renewed. Soap lays a hand on your shoulder.

"He's not mad. Worried? Ya. But mad isn't the word I'd use." Soap is gone before you could say anything else. As if you could. Your thoughts reel. Wave and crash in your mind.

There. At the corner of the door. A flash of movement. Gone before Soap crosses the threshold. Your chest tightens. The unknown yet to come.

She is there. Constant in your peripheral. Cloaked in black. The same inky color as the sky. She follows you as you move. A constant companion. Even in your dreams you cannot escape her.

Death follows you as your enemy falls in a field of open snow. Yet you feel no cold. Warmth envelopes you even as your breath ghosts before you.

A breath. The open and close of your eyes. You are staring at the night sky and Death is sitting on your chest. She calls your name. Beacons you. Bone hands cradle your jaw.

You can't breathe.

Your limbs are led as you try to fight back. Pain flaring as you beat your hand against her skull.

She speaks your name. Deep and timbered.

Darkness.

You wake with a cry on your lips and gasping for air. Tears stain your cheeks. Your stomach turns. You curse. Roll.

The bathroom floods light into your dim room. It blinds you as you fall inside.

Dinner makes a comeback.

You're not sure how long you sit there. The cold floor slowly taking the warmth your sleeping body once held. You shiver. Suck in a breath.

It was a dream. Just a dream.

You rise slowly using the wall to steady yourself. You brush your teeth. Splash cold water on your face.

"Just a dream." You mutter. Turning you flick the light off. Fully intending to crawl back beneath the covers. Or would if it wasn't for the figure standing in your doorway.

"Shit!" You swear. Jumping slightly. "Christ Ghost! Give a warning would ya?" He says nothing. Leaning against the frame of your door. You really don't know what to do or say. Glancing from him, to the floor, then your bed.

"You okay?" His voice breaks the silence. "I heard you." He adds after when you don't respond. You feel your face grow warm.

"Sorry." Barely a whisper. You clear your throat. Look back to him. Ghost pushes himself off the door frame and closes it behind him.

You can barley see him. Most of his body in the shadows. Softly illuminated by the full moon.

"Ghost?" Your voice wavers.

"You didn't answer my question." He tells you. "Are you okay?" You shrug. Throw a fallen pillow back on your bed.

"M'fine." You mutter. Look away again.

He steps closer. "Bullshit." Your head snaps to him. Irritation bubbles in your chest. Nearly two week of him ignoring you. And he chooses to come into your space and pretend he cares?

"Why do you even care?" You spit out."What does it matter if I'm okay or not?" You throw your hands to the side. "I'm alive. Ain't I?"

Ghost squares his shoulders. Even without the bulk of his gear he is big. You find yourself cursing his mask. The shadows deapen his already darkened eyes. Light flickers against white. His eyes pin you. Search you.

You were glad you choose the sweats over the shorts.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me your fine." His voice is rough when he speaks. Strained almost.

Your hands clench as you step closer to him. Close enough to make out the whites of his eyes.

You glare. Hold his gaze. "I'm fine." His head shakes subtly. Lowers.

"You expect me to believe that?" He takes one of your hands in his. "You're shaking, sweetheart." Your face burns.

"I'm fine." You tell him. Pull your hand away. His rough fingers brush the back of your hand as you do so. "I don't see why it matters." You hear a soft pull of air.

"It matters." Ghosts voice is hard. Sounding like how cold stone feels.

"And why's that?" It comes out flat. Hollow.

"You nearly died!" Ghost seems almost as taken aback as you are by the sudden raise of his voice.

"So has Soap. Peirce." You pause. "Even you." Your voice is smooth. More calm than you feel at the moment. "So tell me. Why now? Why does it matter now?"

He sighs. Runs a hand over his mask. The silence in the air is palpable. "It's always mattered." Ghost spoke. "You mattered." You shake your head. Confused.

"Mattered how? Ghost? Why me?" His eyes fix you to the floor. Your heart flutters.

"Because you mean something to me." A pause. "Fuck." The mask is off.

The mask is off.

"Ghost?" You voice is soft. Confusion speaks with it. Your eyes search him. Take in every curve and line of his face. The arch of his lips. The turn of his nose.

"I've lost to much to care about anyone. And you." He pulls in a shuddering breath. "You scared me? You know that? The almost dying on us?" His voice raises as he speaks. Anger. But not at you.

"I thought if I ignored it it wouldn't matter. That you would do better." You scoff.

"Dammit Ghost? Is that what this is about? Your own constipated feelings?" His hand found yours again.

"Your still shaking." You lock your eyes with his.

"Answer the question." He says nothing for a moment. Runs a calloused thumb over your knuckles.

"Can I show you?" He asks. You tilt your head. "Can I show you?" He says again when you don't answer. His other hand reaches up. Cradles your jaw.

"Scared?" You laugh out.

"Quite the opposite." He leans closer to you. "I'm better at showing than telling."

You close the gap between the two of you. Catching his lips with yours.

It's heated. This kiss. Fervent. Needy. Ghost holds your face with his hand. Pulls away. Then kisses you once more. His lips leave a trail to your jaw. To the crook of your neck. His hand travels downward. Over your chest then up again.

Your body warms. A whimper spills past your lips. His name is on your breath.

Your on the bed before you realize it. Body cradled by it's softness. Ghost is hovering above you. His hand tugs at the hem of your shirt. You pull it off without much thought.

There is slight embarrassment on your end as his hand travels the plane of your stomach and up to your chest. Shivers trail down your body as he follows the same path again. Stopping before the still healing would near your chest.

"The bastard is dead. You know?" His fingers ghost the wound. The skin dark and bruised. "I made sure of it."

He doesn't let you speak as he kisses you again. Full of want and desperation. He breathes you in as if you were the sweetest perfume. Your name rolling from his lips. Uttered like a blessed prayer.

His body leaves yours. Taking the warmth with him as he travels down. Pulls at your sweats. Ghosts eyes find yours. Nearly invisible against the shadows in your room. You lift you hips and they are gone.

His lips leaves your legs trembling. Skipping over the one place you craved it most.

"Ghost. Please." Your voice is needy.

"Please what? I need you to use your words sweetheart." You curse and he chuckles from between your legs. He presses his lips against your thighs. Closer now.

"I want you to use your mouth on me." "Please?" You add on to the end. A whine on your voice as you ask.

He says nothing. Hums.

Your body arches against the bed. Ghosts hands grab your thighs. Holds you still. You curse. Mutter. Your hand finds his hair. Giving it a gentle pull as he devours you. Leaves your body trembling.

You speak his name. Utter it again and again as your body coils. That feeling piled on higher and higher. You float. Call his name. His hand finds yours. Pulls it close to him.

You come without words. Falling from the high he brought you to. You can still hear him as your legs shake again. His head still between your thighs.

"Eyes sweetheart." You look down. "Eyes on me. Let me see your face when I make you cum again." You whine. Try to look away. "Look at me. Or I quit."

You pause. "You fucker." Ghost laughs.

"Working on it sweetheart." His lips are on you again and you keen. A noise leaving your lips that you didn't know you could make. Ghost chuckles. Hums. His fingers working fervently against you. Steady rythmic motions that has you chasing that high once more.

"Ghost." You breath out.

His breath fans over you for brief moment before he is on you again. Your face warms. Your peak builds. Creasts. And breaks. He holds your hand through it. Grounding you.

Ghosts eyes never leave yours. His head captured between your thighs as your body shakes. Wetter that you have ever been before.

Ghost rises. Licks his lips. Utters a curse.

"Still with me?" He asks and you laugh.

"Fuck you." You breath out. You hear his belt hit the floor.

You are brought closer to the head of your bed. Pillows placed beneath your hips as he pulls you towards him. You feel him more than see him. His length brushes against your thighs. Thick and warm as he leans over you.

"Ready?" He asks.

You groan. "Just fuck me already you-" You are cut off as he pushes inside you. Slowly. You grab ahold of his bicep. Try to roll your hips to bring him in further.

He stops you. Free hand at you hips. "Stop that. I'm not going to hurt you just because you're impatient." His voice is strained. But you wait as he presses further. Achingly slow.

You opened your mouth to speak. To urge him to go quicker. But he started to move. Push and pull with his hips. His name on your lips. Spoken with praise. Of want.

"Just like that sweetheart. Fuck." You say little. Nails digging into his skin as you bring you hips to meet his.

He pulls out almost completely. Then pushed back in. It makes a lewed sound. Your slick covering your thighs as he moves.

"Fuck." He curses. "Look at that. Look how well your taking me." He brings your hand down to where you are joined. You whimper. Speak his name.

It was too much. This too full feeling. It consumed you. Pulled you further into its depths. Your body shook. Legs trembling as he took and gave to you.

There was the needing. His hands are on your hips. Thick fingers digging into the soft flesh. Then the gasping of air. Trying to fill your lungs with something cool. He pushed and pulled. Lips against yours as he mutters. Words fell from his lips. It sets your body alight. Ablaze with fire that threatened to consume you.

"Just like that." His voice is rough. Strained. Full of want. "Look at you. All mine." His eyes bore into your own. The darkness surrounding them makes his gaze more intense. "So needy. Whining and whimpering. Getting drunk off my cock. All of you. Mine." It's growled. Uttered. For you. Only for you.

You call out as you reach your peak. Pull him back down to you to press your lips to his. He chuckles. Gives you what you want.

You come before he does. Babling his name as he still moves. Hips stuttering in their movement until he presses into you. Making small rolling motions with his hips.

Ghosts lips are in yours. Draws you in. Speaks you name.

The two of you stay that way for a moment. Catching your breath. You whimper when he pulls out of you. Leaving to the bathroom.

He comes back a moment later with a damp cloth. Cleaning you before reaching for a shirt you hand thrown on your head board.

He doesn't leave like you thought he would at first. To many before him having done the same. Instead he draws you in close. Lays with you.

You find yourself drifting. Sleep pulling you in. You feel him move. His knuckles brush your jaw.

"You matter." Ghost spoke. "Always did."

You sleep without her that night. Death does not haunt your dreams. Instead you follow the man in the skull mask. Trusting him to bring you to where it is safe.

#not halo #ghost x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader

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