#the dance pose was drawn to Sway
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
here Have some Radioapple (more under the cut)
All done on today - 2024/1/3
#the dance pose was drawn to Sway#radioapple#art tag#alastor#lucifer#alastor fanart#lucifer fanart#appleradio#aaand you go to the pile of drawings I keep telling myself I'm gonna render
526 notes
·
View notes
Text
Talia Won
This was the outcome i was expecting and was hoping for. Never fight a Wasterran (Wasterrian?)
Hoku's all talk and no bite, well she did bite and now she's payed for it. Kapyy's a pacifist and had to pull Talia away, Hoku ended up punching him in the face when going for Talia. Then that caused Talia to finish Hoku off because family. I can see Talia just being protective of her family, whilst Kapyy's just confused to how they even got to this point.
In terms of the sway twins headcanon, I actually have it in my head that Talia fights Hoku without anyone else looking. I'm trying to write this all out in a document but i've been busy. Also the blood is purple, mainly because i think that that's the colour a coach's blood would be.
As for Hoku, she's still alive. She'd eventually come around and apologise for being a bit of a jerk.
#just dance#fanart#digital art#just dance fanart#just dance talia sway#just dance kapyy#just dance hoku#headcanon#just dance headcanon#i've drawn kapyy's hair like a hundred different ways lol#yes thats the family guy death pose#this headcanon is whats being keeping me sane
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
ᝰ.ᐟ Mistletoe
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Bi-Han X FEM! Reader
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Summary: Someone 'accidentally' left the Christmas misteltoe up at a New Year’s Eve party attended by both (name) and Bi-Han.
Amidst the echoes of New Year's festivities, Kuai Liang's mischievous grin betrayed his secret as he "accidentally" left the Christmas mistletoe hanging above. The room, adorned with remnants of the year's end celebration, became a stage for unforeseen connections between (Name) and Bi-Han, the Sub-Zero brothers.
(Name) couldn't help but notice the beautiful foliage above while exuding elegance in the holiday mood. Her lips curved into a knowing smile as she considered the possibility of unexpected encounters beneath the greenery. As the mistletoe dangled like a symbol of serendipity, the air was electrified with a mixture of laughter and anticipation.
With his enigmatic presence, Bi-Han watched the playful scene unfold. Mistletoe, a source of festive mischief, seemed to beckon those who dared to succumb to its tradition. Unbeknownst to (Name), she unwittingly became a participant in this charming dance of fate.
Tomas and Kuai Liang quietly revelled in the outcome of their "accidental" gesture as the night progressed. The mistletoe, once a forgotten Christmas relic, now held the promise of unexpected connections. The room was alive with laughter and conversation, as well as the unspoken challenge posed by the festive greenery.
(Name), caught in the midst of this delightful chaos, shared glances with both Sub-Zero brothers. Kuai Liang, the architect of this festive twist, exchanged a knowing look with Tomas, acknowledging the unintentional enchantment they had unleashed upon the party.
The music, which served as a lively backdrop to the unfolding drama, encouraged partygoers to sway to its beat. (Name), fueled by the holiday spirit, was drawn to the mistletoe. The unspoken question was: who would be the daring participant in this unexpected dance of tradition?
As (Name) stood beneath the mistletoe, a subtle tension enveloped the room. Bi-Han, known for his reserved demeanor, approached with a quiet confidence. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, tradition and spontaneity collided. The room held its breath as (Name) and Bi-Han shared a kiss beneath the Christmas mistletoe, a fleeting yet enchanting exchange that seemed to transcend time.
After a brief hush, the party erupted in cheers and applause. The mistletoe, now a witness to a magical connection, became a symbol of the unexpected joys that emerge when tradition and spontaneity collide. Kuai Liang and Tomas, overjoyed with the success of their "accidental" ruse, joined the party, adding their laughter to the chorus of joy.
In the end, beneath the lingering glow of New Year's lights, (Name) and Bi-Han's unexpected kiss beneath the Christmas mistletoe became a cherished memory.
#bi han#mk1#tomas vrbada#kuai liang#bi han x reader#bi han sub zero#sub zero#i love him#mortal kombat
134 notes
·
View notes
Text
Honey, Honey
Mmmmwah ty @fizzywashere87 for the prompt <333
Fem!Reader x Donnie
I might make a Masc!Reader version at some point
Prompt: Donnie and Reader are slow dancing at a wedding, and they have a deep talk (reader is emotionally constipated btb)
Fluff, minor angst?, happy ending (im terrible at tagging)
Anywhizzle enjoy <333 (+please reblog!)
@nuncscioquidsitamor-14 bc pookie wanted to be tagged <33
Word count: 1,409
The wedding was beautiful. No doubt about it. Mikey did a wonderful job with the floral arrangements, and April and Cass looked absolutely wonderful. And even more, your date. Hot damn.
Donnie didn't really wear clothes all that often, so you had no idea what you were missing out on. But seeing Donnie, all dressed up like that? You nearly lost your damn mind. The black slacks on his long legs, the white button down that he couldn't button all the way, the jacket, all of it.
"Y/N!" You hear a voice call out, and you recognize it as the bride herself, April. "Y/N c'mere!"
You walk over to April and give her a hug.
"April! You look fabulous!" You exclaim, looking at her positively gorgeous dress. "Why thank you~" she says, doing a spin to show it off. "You look great too!" April compliments, and you strike a little pose.
"More importantly," April starts, "Donnie."
You raise an eyebrow at her.
"What about him?" You ask, curious as to what she means.
"I'm talkin about how you're practically drooling every time you look at him" she places her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow at you.
"I cant help it!" You say. "He just looks so goodddd."
"And how long have you been dating for now?" She asks, crossing her arms.
"Uhmmm.... Justttt one or two orrrrrrr eightttttt months?"
"Have you said the 'I love you' yet?"
"Mmmmmmmnnnnooooo?" You say, or rather- ask. Aprils eyes widen and her jaw drops a little.
"Eight months and you haven't said 'I love you'?? Girl-" She starts, ready to lay into you.
"I know I know- I'm emotionally constipated, okay? I'll tell him when I'm ready." She narrows her eyes at you before promptly walking away.
You suddenly hear her in the speakers, announcing something.
"Alright party people! Lets get all those couples out on the dance floor for a slowwww dance" You look at her to find her holding up two thumbs ups pointed in your direction.
Your attention is pulled from April as you hear the familiar sound of your boyfriends voice behind you.
"May I have this dance, darling?" He asks, holding out a hand. You take it and he leads you to the dance floor as some cheesy love song plays.
He places a hand on your waist, you place yours on his shoulder, and you both intertwine fingers best you can. You sway to the beat, not really knowing how to dance.
"You look gorgeous tonight." Donnie says, causing you to blush and look away. You werent the best with taking compliments.
"Look at me, would you?" He requests, squeezing your waist ever so slightly. You still dont, your gaze resting on your hand perched on his shoulder rather than his eyes.
"Is everything alright, darling?" He asks, raising a drawn on eyebrow at you. You shrug, and he momentarily lets go of your waist to gently move your chin so you look at him. You meet his eyes and blush. The corner of his mouth quirks up in a half smile as he cocks his head slightly.
"You okay?" He asks again, waiting for verbal confirmation.
"Yeah.... I'm fine, I just-" you start, averting your gaze once again. He looks at you, waiting for you to finish. Gosh, he was so patient with you. The way he looks at you, everything thing about him, just him. You loved him so much. Now if only you could tell him that.
"I dunno..." Is what you settle on. "Its just a lot, yknow?"
"Are you overstimulated? Too noisy? Too bright? What is it, hon?" He asks, so patient and caring.
"No... Not that." You think carefully for a moment, searching for the right words. "I've been thinking."
"About?" Donatello questions and he spins you gracefully. 'What a talented dancer' you think.
"Us."
Don raises a brow, looking slightly worried for a second. "This isn't you trying to break up with me, is it?"
"Dont worry, its not." You reassure him.
"Relieved sigh. Thats good. I love you so much I don't know what I'd do if you left me." He chuckles, and you almost stop in your tracks, but don't to continue the flow of dancing, causing you to trip over your own feet. Luckily, Donnie holds you up.
"You okay?" He asks, and you half nod, mind occupied by something else. Those three words. The words you had not yet worked up the nerve to say.
He takes note of the expression on your face, and as if he was a mind reader, he says something.
"I imagine this is because I said the 'L' word?"
You glance at April and Cass, then back to him. "Lesbian?"
"No- Love, Y/N. I said I love you." He states, thumb rubbing gently against your waist.
"Right...."
"Yknow typically when someone says 'I love you', you typically say it back." He smirks that adorable smirk you love so much.
"Your hesitation issss...... Quite unnerving, Y/N. Do you not love me back?" You see the worry on his face and quickly deny it.
"What? Nonono- of course I do, Donnie, I just- I don't know how to say it." He looks at you quizzically as you try to explain.
"Its easy. Like this: I love you too, Donatello, love of my life. Simple"
You sigh. "Its not just that easy. I've never been in a relationship this long. Ive never said....... That.... To someone else before."
Donnie, being as sweet as ever, just listens.
"And its not like I dont love you, I definitely do. I guess I'm just scared that- once I say it, this- us, will become real."
He raises an eyebrow.
"Like once I say.... It..... Im admitting to myself that I'm in love with you, and that's only going to make it hurt that much more when this ends."
When you're finished speaking, you look away, trying to swallow the lump building so annoyingly in your throat. His hand releases yours and cups your cheek, brushing his thumb against your skin.
"What makes you think this is gonna end?" He asks, forcing you to look at him. "I dunno..... I just know that one day you'll find someone so much better than me, and you'll leave me behind. They always do."
The look that flashes across Donatellos face is a mixture of melancholy and love.
"Darling..... There is no one in this world I would rather be with. You're not perfect, sure. But neither am i. And I can promise you, that I will not be leaving you any time soon. Y/N I love you, more than anything or anyone, okay? And by Galileo that will never change. Understand? So, take your worries about me finding someome better and throw them out, because I don't want anyone else. I want you."
By the time he finishes you're nearly on the verge of tears. He pulls you closer into an embrace and you resist the urge to bury your face into the crook of his neck.
"God..... You're perfect...." You say quietly. He responds with "I know, dearest."
"I love you, Donatello, love of my life." You tell him, backing up from the embrace to look into his eyes. He smiles that beautiful smile at you.
He says "I love you too, Y/N. More than anything." before he captures your lips in the sweetest, softest kiss you've ever experienced.
The song ends and Mikey comes on the mic.
"Alllllright party people! Time to pump it up!"
The next song starts and you turn to Don once you recognize the opening. He looks at you the same, a grin spreading across his face.
He grabs both you hands and dances with you, singing along to the ABBA song playing over the sound system.
"Honey, honey how you feel me, uh huh. Honey, honey nearly killed me, uh huh. Honey, honey."
You look around, seeing Leo dancing with his boyfriend, April and Cass dancing together, Raph dancing a little on the side, Mikey dancing with himself by the laptop controlling the music, and Donnie. The love of your life, dancing with you, swaying to the music and spinning you around.
In that moment, you knew just how lucky you were. To be a part of a family like this, to have someone like Donatello. There was no where else you'd rather be.
------------------------------------------
Since this is named after one of my fave ABBA songs I wanted to include my headcanons for the boys' fave ABBA songs
Raph: SOS
Leo: Dancing Queen
Donnie: Gimme, Gimme, Gimme (Man After Midnight)
Mikey: Lay All Your Love On Me
------------------------------------------------
Ty for reading! And please please please reblog, my writing won't get shown to people without it. (Reblogging is the very core pillar of Tumblr!)
#leonwritesstuff#leoslastbraincell#rottmnt#rise of the tmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#save rottmnt#unpause rottmnt#rise donnie#rottmnt donnie x reader#rottmnt donnie#donnie tmnt#fanfic#ao3#rottmnt fanfiction#abba#fluff#minor angst#happy ending
73 notes
·
View notes
Note
Reader x Levi in their beautiful vintage home. It’s later morning to early afternoon, the curtains are drawn and it’s a fresh and sunny day.We’re like cleaning our bookshelf our something when Levi puts on “In The Mood” by Glenn Miller on the record player, and comes up behind us and grabs us and starts twirling us around to dance!
In the mood
Pairing: Levi x Fem!Reader
Genre and tags: Established couple, romance, fluff, cute, modern AU.
Concept: While rearranging Levi's study, he decides to put a record on and dance with you around the room and the house.
Taglist: @ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @skittlelover69 @nyxiieluna @nbinairyn @li-anne @youre-ackermine @notgoodforlife @galactict3a @strawberrybunny123 @demonsimp6
You swapped some of Levi's books around as he shifted his desk and chair. You looked over at him as he set up his computer. You smiled as his muscles flexed at lifting the big tower. You released a long sigh as you admired the man you loved.
Levi walked over to you and kissed you. "Are you okay?"
You nodded as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Yes." You tilted your head and kissed him with a moan. "You're so handsome and strong."
He nuzzled his nose against yours. "I adore you so much."
You blushed at his words. "I love you too."
Levi hummed and swayed with you. "I think we should put on some music."
You sighed as Levi released you. "Levi, we have a few more things to do in here."
"It can wait."
You folded your arms and frowned. "Not like you to put off some work."
He picked up a record and placed it on the record player. "Well, you were the one who taught me to enjoy the little things." He put the needle down on the record. "Life is too short, my love and I want to enjoy the time I have with you."
You hummed a laugh as Levi started moving to in the mood. You giggled as he twirled around and posed for you. You smirked as he smiled and winked at you with his hand out to you. You let out a long sigh as you gazed at his hand. You reached over and grabbed his hand.
Levi yanked you against him making you squeal. He spun around with you and started dancing around the study with you. You laughed as Levi chuckled a little. He twirled you before leading you out of the study into the hall.
Levi dipped you and smiled at you. "You're so beautiful. I adore you."
You hummed a laugh. "You're a funny sweet man."
Levi tapped his forehead against yours. "I just want to make you smile."
"Well, you're making me smile and giggle."
"Good." He lifted you up into the air and spun with you as he looked up at you. He smiled in delight as you laughed. "So cute."
You linked your arms around Levi's neck when he put you down on your feet. You massaged your fingers into his hair. "I adore you so much. You're such a sweet bear."
Levi swayed with you. "You are my everything. I love you so much. My sweet dear wife."
"My adorable bear husband." You looked over at his study. "Music has stopped."
Levi hummed in response. "It has, but I'm just dancing to the song that is us."
You blushed. "You sweet man."
#levi attack on titan#levi#levi ackerman#aot levi#snk levi#aot fanfiction#levi fanfiction#levi x you#levi x y/n#fanfic#aot x you#levi aot#captain levi#levi x reader#levi shingeki no kyojin#levi snk#levi ackerman x reader#levi x reader fluff#captain levi x reader#levi ackerman fluff#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman snk#levi ackerman attack on titan#levi ackerman aot#levi ackerman x y/n#levi ackerman x female reader#jelly fanfics#levi fluff#fluff
98 notes
·
View notes
Text
Welcome, friends, to the Sideshow Bob Awards! Recently I did a few polls about certain elements of Sideshow Bob episodes, and now I shall give some commentary over the results!
Why did I do this? Eh, funsies, but I’ll always look for an excuse to ramble about Sideshow Bob.
First up is the Award for Humor. Which Sideshow Bob episode is the funniest? Black Widower makes Honorable Mention. While an important episode with a lot of notable moments, I might not personally rank it amongst the funniest. Though Bob’s dry wit (as always) wins me over, and Bart explaining Bob’s plan to Homer, worthy of a chuckle.
This overall ranking, out of all of the polls, I agree with the most. Sideshow Bob’s Last Gleaming has some stellar Bob moments: Bob on helium, mimicking the Colonel, his pathetic attempt to kill Krusty, and who could possibly forget the Air Show Rant.
“Air Show? Buzzzzzz-cut Alabamians spewing colored smoke from their whiz jets to the strains of Rock You Like a Hurricane? What kind of country-fried rube’s still impressed by that?!” As for the Air Show Rant, I am also giving it the Award for Best Quote. Unfortunately, this poll did not have much engagement. I expected people to be shy, and I suppose I should have made it a normal poll for people to vote on instead of asking for more direct input, but there are simply too many good Bob quotes to narrow it down! How could I possibly? I had not the strength. His exasperation with his peers, mocking elitist tone, the venom, the sass, the hip swaying and crossing of his feet, going wall eyed and throwing his arms out cuz he always gotta be extra, if there is a perfect Sideshow Bob quote that exemplifies his character it would be this one.
Aside from that, mocking the military and garbage television, this episode offers a ton of laughs, worthy of at least Third place.
Brother From Another Series takes Second, and has a different brand of humor, but the kind that always gets me. It’s supposedly written like an episode of Frasier, which means the script is chock full of one liners from two guys too smart for their own good, constantly trying to one-up eachother. You wonder how both Bob and Cecil could ever end up in Springfield, an environment of pure dumbassery, and it clearly has had an effect on them (they must have drunk the water). Personal favorite moments are the boys with the slack-jawed locals, “especially Lisa, but ESPECIALLY Bart”, and “utterly hopeless”.
To no one’s surprise Cape Feare takes the crown. It often makes top 10 lists for its humor alone, and with good reason. This episode is packed with jokes, funny drawings, and goofiness, with running gags so memorable and powerful that they would get callbacks even 30 years later. The idiocy is at an all time high, both with Homer and Bob, which frankly is necessary to balance out the more sinister and rather tense scenes. Homer scaring Bart, the rakes, the drive through the cactus patch, The Rakes, “Hello Mr Thompson”, THE RAKES. This episode is iconic, and I completely understand why.
Next up we have the Award for Animation. For our Honorable Mention, we have Bob’s official debut, Krusty Gets Busted. I’m glad to see some love for season 1, when everything was experimental especially with the animation. The linework, expressions, poses, models, colors, everything seems off by today’s standards, but you can see the effort and love put into it. There’s something beautiful about how rough it looks because you know what a struggle it was to make it work. And it does work. But I’m biased toward things that are hand drawn.
In Third for this category, the award goes to Gone Boy, the complete opposite of Krusty Gets Busted. We have the modern era, the clean colors, the characters staying on model, a lot of the stiffness that a lot of people don’t care for. However, there are moments that feel like a return to form in this episode. My eyes lit up when I saw Bob’s face as he encountered Milhouse. Then the dance he does as he sings is song-o. The wintery environment, a few ambitious angles, some great character acting. It’s proof that newer episodes have their beauty too. I only wish that the hallucination sequences went harder. Imagine, if you will, they suddenly went Courage the Cowardly Dog mode on you and changed mediums, turned into something more experimental and maybe truly nightmarish. This episode was great, but it could have been legendary. I am grateful for the feast we got. In Second, Black Widower returns, which dare I say has been robbed. Yes, I think it should have been First. This episode is gorgeous, but as I have established, I liked the earlier, rougher animation.
Every single frame of Bob’s rant on MacGyver is absolutely wild, as is the skipping through the flowers. The colors in the night scenes. The glow from the explosion. There’s so much character here, so many expressions and extra motions with hands in scenes, even when no one is talking. The weight in Bob’s hair when he throws back his head for a maniacal laugh. What this episode’s got is flair. Once again, Cape Feare takes First. I can see why, because it is a very good looking episode. One of the best. Oh, how I wish the show still looked like this (the latest Treehouse Ei8ht made me crave what we have lost). But I must wonder if it might be taking the number one spot because of how memorable it is with other factors. No doubt it’s funny, with a lot of well done and imaginative scenes. Bob’s lil dance during his work out comes out of nowhere and is hysterical. You think for a minute that the episode is going to cheat you when the elephants are trampling him off-screen then it pans down to show you the exact moment one steps on and off his skull. The increasingly elaborate set and costume designs for Bob’s theatrical performance. There is a lot of artistry to appreciate here. It’s cinematic even. Then again, a lot of the cinematic moments can be attributed to its source material: the 1991 movie Cape Fear, some moments directly inspired. Not to say that all of the work was done for them, certainly not. They put their own spin on things.
Perhaps the placement is deserved. The shot that goes from Bart’s window, flying over all of Springfield, to Bob’s prison is particularly impressive. There’s a lot of juicy saturation and shifts in color reminiscent of shots from Krusty Gets Busted and Black Widower. It’s safe to assume that I’m drawn more towards character details, and little things like all the lower angles we get from Bob work well in conveying menace, as if we, the audience, are in danger
This concludes Part One of the Sideshow Bob Awards, In Part Two I will cover Best Song and Best Mystery. As for intermission, picture THE RAKES!!!
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cherry Pie - Four -
(Master Chapter List)
Pyrrha was amazed at how "Cherry Pie" moved. Pyrrha, an athlete in her own right, could see the strain those moves were putting on the blond boy. She didn't even notice the music change. For ten minutes he jiggled, shook and posed to the chants and cheers of the crowd of women surrounding him.
It all came to an end when as the music died down, "Cherry Pie" Grabbed the pole behind his mop of blond hair, with both his hands, and then lifted his legs into the air, performing a picture-perfect split, and holding it, so the liquored up patrons could get a good look at his bulge.
Announcer: It is TIME!
Pyrrha took her attention from the young man as he eased himself down from his pose, and looked at Blake; who motioned for Pyrrha to lean in.
Pyrrha: What is it time for?
Blake: All the paying patrons get a ticket with a number on it. Then one is randomly drawn... the winner gets to share a dance with him.
Pyrrha: A dance?
Blake: You'll see.
Pyrrha: We don't...
Yang: (Leaning in) I brought you guys in as my guests. You didn't pay, so you don't get a chance. Paying customers only P-Money.
Announcer: The lucky winner is 7... 1... 5! Will the holder of ticket 715 please come to the stage... "Cherry Pie" awaits!
Pyrrha watched with Blake and Yang as a green haired young woman, probably about their age, possibly a little older, approach the stage. "Cherry" reached forward and assisted her with an offered hand as she climbed onto the stage.
Announcer: Here is a lucky winner, and now we await her choice! What will she choose? A waltz? The tango? Something more salacious?
Another young woman approached the pair. Pyrrha figured, by her way of dress, she was most likely in charge of the music. After less than a minute the second woman vanished followed by "Cherry" who reappeared seconds later with a wooden high back chair.
The winner took her seat, as "Cherry" took his place before her. "Gentleman" by Psy rolled out over the sound system and Pyrrha took a sharp inhale as "Cherry's" hips instantly swaying back and forth, shaking his ass right in the lucky winner's face.
The winner was obviously overjoyed and seemed to be struggling not to reach out and grab hold of the shapely treat being waved hypnotically before her.
Yang: SHIT!
Pyrrha and Blake jumped when Yang swore and tore out from the table. The pair of friends watched as Blake's girlfriend bull rushed her way through the throng of people around the stage. On the stage, "Cherry" grabbed the winner and covered her with his body as a silver haired man put his foot through the chair.
A second later, Yang and a couple of the other bouncers hit the enraged and possibly drunk off his ass man with full on body tackles, carrying him off the stage and to the floor. On the stage, "Cherry" helped the winner to her feet and guided her off-stage through the curtains.
#Cherry Pie AU#rwby#no grimm#Beacon is a University#pyrrha nikos#yang xiao long#blake belladonna#jaune arc#bumbleby#arkos
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shall we Dance? (Imagination Movers x Reader Oneshot)
Warnings: None
Words: 770
Based on “The Greatest Dance” by “Imagination Movers”
youtube
You stand to the side as you observe your peers chatting and dancing the night away. You were reluctant to receive an invite to this upper-class last minute, but because of the short amount of time you had to get your hair done and find fancy clothing, finding a date didn’t even come to mind.
Nevertheless, you always found your way to enjoy your surroundings whether you were with others or not. However, you do wish you had someone to talk with to fulfill your time.
To snap you out of your thoughts, classical-sounding music began playing. Other guests found a dancing partner to waltz with. You stood in the center of the floor observing the others. You were about to return to your standing area until a rather handsome man with semi-curly hair wearing a tuxedo with a red and yellow name tag on the right side of his chest spelling out ‘Rich’ slightly bowed and extended one hand to you and placed the other behind his back.
“Shall we dance, shall we dance? Step in time, you and I. We could fly straight to the stars.”
He glides his hand in the air, slowly waving as if stars were actually in your face. The moment the piano hit a strong note for a brief second, he reached his hand in front of you again.
“Take my hand, take my hand,” you held his hand, accepting his gesture.
“I’ll spin you around the room,” he lifts your hand above your head, giving you room to twirl on your toes. “Then twirl you up to the moon,” you feel yourself getting taller and taller, or rather slowly floating from the ground.
It’s as if invisible steps appeared as this Rich fellow gracefully stepped up to reach for your hand again. He gives it a comforting squeeze, indicating that everything’s going to be okay and even more magical.
“Can you see, this could be, the greatest dance.”
It feels like the scene changed. It felt like you were dancing on a platform that looked and felt like clouds. Hovering from above, four more smaller cloud stages appear with three other guys with similar name tags waltzing with alternate versions of you while a mouse was…playing the piano? You had to admit, he was pretty good. The name tags on those guys spelled out ‘Scott’, ‘Smitty’, and ‘Dave’. You had to admit again, those three also looked cute.
“Birds of a feather flock together rising high above the swaying purple heather. Swirling, whirling, gliding, moving by, like a dancing ballet in the starry sky.”
“Spinning, soaring, swirling, whirling, a tapestry.”
Scott and Dave’s vocals intertwined with one another. Those identical versions of you were smiling ear to ear. The six of you from those platforms were having a ball. Literally!
A sudden shift as the scene changes again. The focus was back on the main version of you and Rich. You both held microphones. Scott repeats himself while Dave sings something new.
“Now we sing, now we sing. I’ll be the melody, you’ll be the harmony tune,” Rich continues dancing with you, leaning back in a striking pose as you do the same.
“Birds of a feather flock together rising high above the swaying purple heather. Swirling, whirling, gliding, moving by, like a dancing ballet in the starry sky.”
“Lifting, swaying, join me, and dance with the symphony.”
The way the three vocalize is blissfully harmonious.
“Can you see, this could be, the greatest dance. You and me, we could be, the greatest dance,” Scott and Dave briefly join for the last few notes of the song as it finishes.
For the final move, Rich dips you. Just like that, you two back at the ballroom. You realize a crowd formed around the two of you, engulfed in the performance. The audience cheers and applauds you and your dance partner.
Rich raises you back up on your feet as both of you hold hands and take a bow. There was something about these four men you were drawn to. You wondered if you would ever see them again after tonight. Even if you didn’t, they transformed this night into something you’ll never forget. He kisses the back of your hand before gazing into your eyes, smiling once more.
“If you ever have a situation that needs imagination, visit the Idea Warehouse,” he winks before returning to the trio and rodent with brown and orange fur—er, hair?
You heard of the Idea Warehouse before, but you never had a problem that big. Perhaps you’ll take up his offer when you do.
#probably the first ever imagination movers x reader fic#the movers are fine. yeah i said it#song fic#x reader#imagination movers#imagination movers x reader#mover rich#mover rich x reader#mover dave#mover dave x reader#mover scott#mover scott x reader#mover smitty#mover smitty x reader#rich#scott#dave#smitty#rich x reader#dave x reader#scott x reader#smitty x reader#warehouse mouse
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Here’s a Super Smash Bros. Lawl moveset for Petey Piranha from the Mario series:
Reveal Trailer:
The trailer starts in a lush, tropical setting, with Mario and other characters exploring a vibrant jungle. Suddenly, the ground shakes, and Petey Piranha bursts out of the ground, roaring and flailing his limbs. The screen flashes: "Petey Piranha Unleashes Chaos in the Smash Arena!"
Moveset:
Petey Piranha’s moveset focuses on his plant-based powers and his ability to cause chaos with his size and unique attacks.
Neutral B (Piranha Gust):
Description: Petey Piranha opens his large mouth and unleashes a powerful gust of wind that blows opponents away. The gust can also carry and push objects, affecting the stage environment.
Inspiration: Reflects Petey’s ability to use his mouth to create strong wind blasts, as seen in various Mario games.
Side B (Piranha Spit):
Description: Petey Piranha spits a large, corrosive ball of slime that travels forward. The slime can cause damage over time and can also temporarily slow down opponents who come into contact with it.
Inspiration: Petey’s spitting attack is a common feature in his appearances, adding a unique, damaging projectile to his moveset.
Down B (Plant Slam):
Description: Petey Piranha slams the ground with his large, heavy body, causing a shockwave that deals damage to nearby opponents. This move can also briefly stun enemies who are close to the impact point.
Inspiration: Petey’s size and strength allow him to create powerful ground-shaking attacks.
Up B (Vine Lift):
Description: Petey Piranha extends a set of thick vines from his body, which he uses to lift himself into the air. The vines can also deal damage to opponents if they come into contact with them during the lift.
Inspiration: Petey’s vine-like abilities are drawn from his plant nature, allowing him to use vines for recovery and offense.
Final Smash (Piranha Frenzy):
Description: Petey Piranha summons a horde of smaller Piranha Plants that swarm across the stage. The swarm deals rapid damage to all opponents and can briefly stun them. The final part of the attack has Petey Piranha himself charging forward with a massive bite, knocking opponents out of the stage.
Inspiration: The Final Smash captures the chaotic and overwhelming nature of Piranha Plants, combining them into a powerful, multi-stage attack.
Taunts:
Up Taunt: Petey Piranha roars triumphantly, causing the ground to shake slightly.
Side Taunt: He performs a quick, animated dance with exaggerated movements, showing off his large size and playful nature.
Down Taunt: Petey Piranha sits down and starts to munch on a large, fictional fruit, making satisfied noises.
Victory Poses:
1. Victory Pose 1: Petey Piranha stands with his arms raised and his mouth wide open in a victorious roar, surrounded by a cloud of green mist.
2. Victory Pose 2: He performs a playful dance, swaying his body and causing small Piranha Plants to dance along with him.
3. Victory Pose 3: Petey Piranha looks into the camera, grinning with satisfaction and then doing a playful, exaggerated wave.
Defeat Pose:
Defeat Pose: Petey Piranha collapses to the ground, covering his face with his large leaves, and groans, "Ugh, this plant life isn’t for me…"
0 notes
Text
Harmony Underwater: Exploring Yoga at the Aquarium
In today’s fast-paced world, the quest for tranquility and mindfulness has led many to explore unique settings for their yoga practice. One such innovative trend is practicing yoga amidst the serene and captivating ambiance of an aquarium. Imagine the gentle flow of yoga poses harmonizing with the graceful movements of marine life gliding through vibrant underwater landscapes. This combination offers not just physical exercise, but a profound sensory experience that nourishes both body and soul.
Why Yoga at the Aquarium?
Yoga is renowned for its ability to promote relaxation, improve flexibility, and enhance mental clarity. When practiced in an aquarium setting, these benefits are amplified by the soothing sights and sounds of marine life. The rhythmic swaying of seaweed, the dance of colorful fish, and the gentle ebb and flow of water create a natural symphony that encourages deep relaxation and inner peace.
Moreover, the unique environment of an aquarium provides a distraction-free space where practitioners can immerse themselves fully in the present moment. Away from the hustle and bustle of daily life, participants can find solace in the tranquil beauty of the underwater world, allowing for a more profound connection with their yoga practice.
The Experience:
Participants of yoga at the aquarium often describe it as a transformative experience. The combination of yoga’s mindful movements with the mesmerizing aquatic environment cultivates a sense of harmony between the individual and the natural world. Whether practicing traditional Hatha poses or engaging in fluid Vinyasa sequences, each movement seems to flow effortlessly, guided by the peaceful energy of the marine surroundings.
Furthermore, the ambiance of an aquarium fosters a meditative state that is difficult to achieve elsewhere. As practitioners focus on their breath and the gentle motions of their bodies, they are also drawn to the peaceful presence of marine creatures. This dual focus encourages a deep sense of introspection and mindfulness, making yoga at the aquarium not just a physical practice, but a holistic journey of self-discovery.
Accessibility and Community:
Yoga at the aquarium is accessible to practitioners of all levels, from beginners to seasoned yogis. Many aquariums offer specialized classes led by experienced instructors who tailor sessions to accommodate diverse skill levels and preferences. This inclusivity fosters a sense of community among participants, united by their shared appreciation for both yoga and the wonders of the ocean.
Additionally, these classes often promote environmental awareness and conservation efforts, encouraging participants to reflect on their connection to the natural world. By practicing yoga in such a unique setting, individuals are reminded of the importance of preserving marine ecosystems and promoting sustainable practices in their daily lives.
For more info:-
Free Online Yoga Classes for Beginners
Yoga in a Sunflower Field
1 note
·
View note
Text
The Xiang Chronicles: Book Four Epilogue
Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book Four
Author: Jay Grayson
Word Count: 118k
Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+
Available on: my website
Synopsis: In order to save the world from the continuous subjugation and potential annihilation at the hands of Tiandi, hard lines must be drawn. The Great Spirits that were imprisoned ages ago must be unsealed and awakened, no matter the consequences.
The players are divided—those who stand blindly with Tiandi, such as Xiang Merra and her disciples versus those who want to tear the system down and give the power back to the people. Even a few of the most religious Lords change their minds when they learn the truth of the world—that Tiandi is no more than a dictator with no love in his heart.
It is up to the last, real Xiang and the ill-fated Chaaya to put everything they have into tearing God from his throne and creating new possibilities for the future.
Full epilogue under the cut
Epilogue:
A couple of pink and orange blossoms floated along the sky, bringing a sweet, spring scent with them. Raine watched them dance in the air for a moment before, inevitably, winding down to the stone road. There, they were crushed under the feet of people walking through the city square, unaware or in a hurry.
Many were stopping to look at the giant sheet in the middle of the street. Something large—grandiose was underneath it and very few people knew what it was. The structure the sheet covered had been in progress for over a year and had just recently been moved to it’s final resting place.
Even with the sheet still on it, Raine felt his ears grow warm.
He had argued the construction of it more times than he could count. His King, of course, let him down and insisted on the sculpture being made.
Raine even went to the artist that was commissioned but he could not be swayed either.
“At least make it a statue of Pangu,” he tried to reason, “Or add him.”
But no. There was no Pangu. No anyone. Just him.
A statue in tribute was the sort of thing people were granted after they died. Raine felt it was in poor taste to have one of himself in the center of Castelle while he was still alive and well. Other than to simply embarrass him, he did not see the point.
“Is everyone ready?” Sampra called out from his spot beside the sculptor.
He, Ryu, and practically every soldier who was not actively set for duty, all stood around, waiting with baited breath for the reveal. So, of course, a chorus of hoots and hollers came as the response.
Raine covered his face with a hand, peering out between his fingers as the sheet was dramatically cast off the statue. Cheering erupted and a few hands slapped onto his shoulders, shaking him eagerly. He swatted them away and grumbled as he took in the sight for himself.
It was far too large—it was the only thing people would look at when entering the square now. His pose was borderline theatric and his armor was missing details in some places while artistic liberties had been taken in others. Like the fact his helmet was missing (though he supposed he tended not to walk around with it on all that much anymore) and his hair was floating behind him as if it was caught in the wind.
Everyone loved it. Ryu and Sampra both congratulated him as if he had won some great prize.
“Wow, that thing is MASSIVE!” The voice of an old friend rang through the air and Raine spun around.
He was due to meet them soon but he had forgotten about their schedule because of the hoopla over the statue. His face was red, he was aware, but he tried to calm himself as the group approached him through the crowd.
May had cut her hair so it now rested on her shoulders and her body was heavier, softer—marked with comfort and contentment. Her robes were still indicative of her position but she had thrown a more blasé cape over her shoulder to try and hide it.
Fujin looked almost identical to every other time Raine saw her. She never changed her hair cut or style and her face showed no sign of aging except for when she furrowed her brow and the wrinkle that formed there lingered for a few moments longer. She lifted her hand to wave—her wedding ring glimmering in the sun—and shot Raine a quick smile.
Standing with them was Heidi who was the first to rush toward Raine and hug him. She had her hair pinned back in her favorite hair clip and a wide smile stretched across her face. The last few times they met up, Raine noticed that she left her axe at home. When he returned her hug, he felt its absence again.
“Everyone seems quite excited about your statue, Raine,” Baiya commented as he and Kaz were the last to join in. His beard, varying in length over the years, had grown out again and his hair was long enough to pin back behind his head. He also, still, refused to wear any fancy or expensive robes though Raine was sure he had them at home.
“I don’t think they made you tall enough,” Kaz remarked with a smirk. Out of everyone, Kaz looked the most youthful—probably more so than when Raine had first met him. The muscles in his face were not always so tense anymore and he carried himself with a lot less stiffness.
“Please,” Raine muttered as he stepped to the side, attempting to block the statue from their sights though it was impossible, “Can we not talk about it? Can we just head out?”
May snickered. “What? I think it’s cool! Maybe I will have a sculptor in Mythos make one for me. And I will put Fujin in—”
“No.” She did not even let her finish.
They all laughed and, thankfully, did not continue to drag the topic along with them as they headed for the city gates. Raine was sure it would be brought up again but, for the time being, he was content just listening to the chatter between May, Fujin, and Kaz. Occasionally Baiya would squeeze in but neither he nor Heidi could keep up with the Enlil group when they got going.
Once they were far enough away from the city, with an open field before them, Sylph emerged from her three summoners and they flew in a circle, working in tandem to create a portal.
Raine’s heart started to race—it always did before he walked into the spirit realm. He was sure Baiya and Kaz felt the same. His eyes flickered over to the two and saw the almost matching expressions.
These visits were few and far between but they were worth the wait.
The vibrant, ephemeral world on the other side was full and pulsing with energy. Had Raine not seen the same sight before, he might have been too distracted by it to properly greet Kira.
His love practically jumped into his arms, giving him a kiss. There was certainly a different feel when it came to embracing a spirit but after so many years, it had simply become normal.
To his right, Pangu and Viren both said their hellos to their partners which usually took a few minutes longer so the women joined Raine and Kira.
The first chunk of time was always chaotic, filled with hugs, kisses, and the same few remarks that were probably not necessary but still nice to hear.
“I have missed you so much.”
But, eventually, Pangu cleared his throat and asked, “Alright, who wants to play cards?” With a simple wave of his hand, a long table appeared in the middle of the meadow and they each took a seat.
This was the usual protocol, after all.
Pangu dealt the cards and, as they played, the living caught the dead up on the state of the world. So, of course, the subject of Raine’s statue was right on the tip of everyone’s tongue.
“That is incredible, Raine,” Pangu said with a grin, “You deserve a statue.”
“Not more than you—any of you.” His focus darted from him to Kira and then to Viren. At least Viren did have a statue as well, commissioned by Oli, to be erected in Ultimos. That made sense.
“I am definitely not getting a statue,” Kira replied with a chuckle.
“I will make it happen,” May announced with a nod, “I will make statues of everyone—if no one else will do it then I will.”
“She will,” Fujin confirmed.
“I think it would be kind of cool if there could be one of all of us,” Heidi suggested with a shrug.
“I pass,” Kaz muttered, both as an addition of the conversation and about the card game. He folded his hand down onto the table and then crossed his arms. “I have been quite enjoying people not recognizing me in Agni. A statue might put a damper on that.”
“How is Agni?” Viren asked, allowing Raine breathe out in relief.
The country was still not unified but the spirits knew that much. They also knew who was in charge and where, for the most part. Around half of Terra’s Feng territory had been given to Agni, a sign of goodwill between the nations as directed by Oli, and, the two lords—Phay and San—had plenty of treaties and agreements between each other.
Phaos as well as most southern areas of Agni were under Lord San’s control. He continued on, mostly, as he had been but now with the aid of his niece Ashoka. Bofu stayed in Phaos as well but, usually, Pangu, Kira, and Viren had no interest in knowing how he was doing. Last anyone heard, he was still disabled but had started to teach a variety of subjects including resonance training.
Phay had little to do with them outside of political negotiations as she took over Cidney as well as expanded her territory. A new city was being built at around the halfway point between the old capital and Baiya and Loa’s farm. Loa still split her time between her family and her work with Phay so a new capital city would make the trek much easier.
Salam was the name in progress and it had been a huge undertaking but one Phay was committed to. Her arm, forever scarred by her last summoning of Salamander, continued to stay in a sling. She had discussed amputation a few times but, ultimately, she decided to keep the unresponsive appendage as a reminder.
“And the kids?” Pangu leaned closer, looking at Baiya.
“My niece and nephews are growing up faster than I expected,” he responded with a chuckle.
Thanks to a donor, Loa had been able to get pregnant twice. The first child, a daughter, was born just three years after the new calendar and then, four years after that, she was blessed with triplet boys. Needless to say, there were no quiet days at the farm anymore.
“Speaking of, how is little Pangu?” Kira asked Heidi.
“Is he in a teenage rebellious stage yet?” Pangu chuckled at the thought.
“He still likes me,” Heidi mumbled as if she was truly irate but a smile shined through. “He has been joining father on his fishing boat every so often but he is especially fond of writing stories lately.”
“And Lady?” Viren followed up.
“She wants to travel.” Heidi’s shoulders slumped. “I am reluctant to let her go but I would be a hypocrite if I tried to keep her there. Plus, she is plenty old enough to make those decisions…”
“Oooh! I can go with her!” May jumped at the idea.
Fujin shook her head. “No. No, you can’t. You are busy.”
She slunk down and grumbled. “I could make time…”
May had a couple of nephews as well that took up a lot of her attention back at the castle. Sunny turned out to be a wonderful and attentive mother and her sons were happy and energetic. Every so often, May would start to wonder what it would be like to have children as well. But, she had just recently convinced Fujin that marriage was a good idea so she was not sure she could throw children into the mix and expect anything other than a hard no.
“Let us see, what else is there…” Pangu shuffled the deck of cards after a rather poor, uninteresting game. He dealt everyone their hand as he mused.
“How is Oli?” Viren asked. “He never comes to these anymore.”
“Oh, he is quite busy,” Kaz answered.
“We barely see him either,” Baiya added.
Given the immense pressure of his role and the sheer amount of land he was in charge of, Oli did not have much free time. Occasionally, there would be letters but, if anyone truly wanted to see the man they would have to make the trip to Ultimos.
Ziyi had become his advisor while Alf remained a representative for the Meala people. Since they had become separate countries, there were hard borders and rules. One of the treaties signed was due to last for the next five hundred years. There was to be no involvement of Terra in Meala affairs and no attempts to expand Terran territory—even those claiming to be mining in the area or inching over because of agriculture would be fined or worse.
Oli, naturally, was allowed to visit but he and Evie decided to use such strong, strict language in their contracts to ensure that those who ruled after them would adhere.
“So, everything is finally still in Terra,” Pangu surmised with a happy sigh, “Agni is working well under a joint leadership as well and Enlil is united. Kyrie is clearly still doing well given they have time to make statues…”
Raine’s face burned, especially with how hard Kira laughed. He tried to take a more serious approach as he said, “The King’s son is set to take over for him in around twenty years, if all goes well.”
It was a surprising twist, given King Raime’s age and his lack of a bride, but a son had been born into the family somehow. There were plenty of rumors about the child being from a concubine but Raime did not have any—not that Raine knew of anyway. The most prominent rumor, however, was that the son came from the Great Spirit Undine.
The King and the spirit were quite close and Raine knew from first-hand experience that it was possible to physically touch a spirit but he just was not sure of the specifics involved for child bearing.
Regardless, the prince was especially gifted with a high resonance and could already perform amazing feats with water.
“I’m all in,” May announced, breaking the conversation and moving everyone’s attention back to the card game.
“Then me too,” Fujin said, pushing all of her coins out as well.
“We may as well all go,” Baiya mentioned with a snicker. “May’s all in always means she has shit cards.”
“You could still lose, genius,” Kaz countered and folded.
Around half of them agreed with Kaz and folded while the others matched May’s bet, ending in Kira’s victory. While not surprising, it still inspired a series of groans.
He collected the cards again and began to cut the deck and shuffle. His mind went to how long they had left, even if he did not want it to. But, of course, Pangu could overhear him as he was thinking too loud.
‘Just enjoy the time we have,’ his Xiang spoke in his mind.
‘I know,’ he mentally sighed, ‘…I know.’
‘Soon, we will all be together again,’ Viren chimed in, ‘but at least we do not have to wait alone.’
Pangu nodded as he took his new hand. Being dead this time around had certainly been different but he would argue that he was still clinging onto life quite forcefully. Souls were not meant to exist in such a form for so long but, because their work in reshaping the spirit realm was so important, they had to stay put.
Plus, they had decided that they would wait until everyone else joined them before moving on. With everyone at his side again, passing back into the natural cycle would not seem quite as scary.
Most everyone folded their hand and the round was shaping up to be another boring one but Raine, out of the blue, went all in on his hand. Kira, unable to resist, matched him.
They laid their cards face up on the table and Raine smirked in victory while the rest of them erupted into shouts and laughs.
“I told you I would beat you eventually!” Raine pumped his fists into the air while Baiya patted him on his shoulders, probably more excited about his win than even he was.
Kira made a spectacle about rolling his eyes but he could not hide his smile. “Sure. Congrats on beating a dead guy.”
Everyone laughed even harder and Pangu joined in, relishing the moment. It, like all the others before, would pass but he was content with that. He was happy.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Sleep, Stay, Spector
Summary: You have a history of crossing paths with Marc in the line of duty. What happens when things turn dire in one particular job that somehow, starts with slow dancing? Inspired by a vivid dream I had a little while ago!!
Warnings: Breathing difficulties, passing out, NC drug use
"Why the fuck are you here?", Marc hisses through his teeth. He's thumbing through a magazine, pretending to ignore your presence. You put your book back on the shelf, walking past him to pick out a different one. "I'm doing my goddamn job, Spector", you mutter under your breath. Marc lifts his gaze, sweeping a quick cautious gaze down the empty corridor then taking a step closer to you.
"You have no idea how dangerous this is", he grits out. "The party's starting soon, if they figure you out..." He shakes his head disapprovingly,"A story isn't worth all this." You slam your book shut, sharply turning towards the shelves again. "Do not tell me how to do my job", you warn. "I've been a journalist far longer than you've been a superhero"
Marc swears under his breath, before closing the gap between you both, "Then come as my plus one. I have an...ally. I won't get in your way." You narrow your eyes with suspicion, trying to assess a possible ulterior motive to this suggestion. Finding none, you relent with a sigh. Books are replaced onto shelves, and you loop your arm around Marc's. When you both step out from the corridor into the hall, there's a carefully crafted mask on your face. A lovestruck partner, nodding politely to everyone Marc introduces you to. You're an aspiring cosmetologist he says, and he met you in a bar.
You can see where he has drawn the inspiration from. You did meet each other at a bar in the dead of the night. You had received a tip about an illegal match-fixing ring operating out of there, and you were posed as an interested party. Things went south (as it sometimes does in investigative journalism) and you watched in fascination as a man in silvery mummy-suite took out half a dozen men in under a minute. The figure was familiar as the vigilante's activities were on the radar of the police and the media for a while. But nobody had any idea who he was outside of the mask. When you figured it out, courtesy of a dropped ID card no less, you chose to not publish the information. Marc Spector protected people, and you'd rather have that than the fame you'd get from 'exposing' the masked nightly vigilante. In the nine odd months since, you'd run into each other multiple times and each time the man seemed to get increasingly agitated by your presence.
Currently, you were worried this tip was a bust. It was mostly old people drinking champagne, eerily young girls hanging onto them. There was no whiff of the arms deal that was supposed to go down that very night. Light music wafted through the room, couples lingering in the floor, swaying to the tune. Playing the part of the perfect couple, so were you. Marc's palm was splayed on your side, moving to the music with practiced ease. You were mildly impressed, maybe even enamoured by the intensity of his gaze on you. They had strayed only once, to provide a curt nod to a man of around the same age. Possible Marc's accomplice, he had a sharp nose and a light moustache. A pretty young girl giggled and hung onto his arm, and if it wasn't for her small, sharp nod towards you....you could have mistaken her for a bumbling twenty-something.
"This isn't going anywhere", you mumble into Marc's ear. You are moving close, very close, his warm breath caressing your wine-flushed face. Marc doesn't break his gaze, twirling you around elegantly and drawing you even closer. "My source is solid", he whispers into your ear. "Which means they know about us....or either of us" The confidence in his voice sends a shiver of discomfort down your spine.
"Imma check a bit longer", you mutter. You were desperate to leave, however. Compounded with the nerves, the hall was getting very stuffy. For a luxurious underground structure, it seemed to be lacking strongly on the comfort front. "God it's suffocating here", you grunt softly, and Marc gazes you curiously. Maybe you just run hot, he thinks, but that hypothesis is driven out of the window when you're soon breathing heavily. You're trying to stay calm, nonchalant...but Marc sees your chest heave. "You okay?", he asks cautiously but you're too distracted to respond. It feels a little like when you hyperventilate, feeling the air sucked out of your lungs. Except this time you literally could not breathe. You barely register him calling out your name. your fingers digging painfully into his side.
There's a quick communication through eye contact between Marc and his allies. All you register is Marc ushering you out. Out from the venue, onto the ground floor, then the open air. The walk up the stairs steals the little air left and by the time you step out you're wheezing painfully. Eyes wide in fear and confusion, you feel tears of exertion trail down your cheeks. Marc is rubbing your back, trying to get you to follow his breath cycle. You want to retort saying that's not the issue, but all that escapes your lips is a choked gasp. You cannot breathe, and dread sets deep in your chest. "M-Marc", you whimper as darkness clouds your vision.
You wake up to a steady beeping. The killer headache hits before you even open your eyes, the distress accompanied with a slight pickup in the beeps. "Easy", floats in Marc's voice. "Be gentle."
"What happened?" you rasped and immediately slipped into a coughing fit. Marc sighs, unimpressed, helping you sit up slowly. "Drugs in wine, most likely. They bugged the dose, there was too much. Frenchie's making sure", he offers. All you can respond is a hum, eyes bleary and throat hoarse. The giant oxygen mask on your face isn't doing you any favours. "Did you get them?", you can't help but ask.
"Not important", he responds. You give him a look, and he relents with a sigh. "No, we didn't. But they sniffed you out. You'll have to lie low for a while. This is..."
"Marc", you stop his rambling. "This is my job" "You'd die for a story? You'd have me watch you die for a fucking story?", his voice rises, tone incredulous.
"It's not about the story! It's never..jeez..", your throat is too sore to shout back. "I just wanna...help. You'd see that if you didn't think I'm useless."
Marc sighs and rubs his own forehead. "Get better", he mutters. "I'll be around if you need anything" He pushes himself up, but your hand stops him, clutching onto his palm. "Stay", you mouth, soft voice barely breaching the boundaries of the mask.
Marc regards your face, the dark circles under your eye, the pale skin of your cheeks. With a sigh, he plops himself back on the chair. His hand gently touches the top of your aching head, offering awkward but comforting strokes.
"Sleep", he mouths.
#marc spector x you#marc is a softy#marc spector x reader#marc spector#moon knight#moon knight x reader#moon knight x you#marvel#marvel fanfiction#fanfiction
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
the spy part 1(keith x reader)
8k. explicit content. while on medical leave reader meets the red paladin of voltron during the war against Zarkon.
The corridors are well lit. It’s like being in a brand new hospital, this ship in the rebel fleet.
People hustle around, landing, taking off in smaller ships to distant planets. Your hand goes to your arm. The medic had given you a movement’s leave, so you were resting for now on this ever moving ship.
Outside the widows, you spy an assortment of ships, each one’s origins clear from the design. So many planets, so many peoples banding together against Zarkon. You’d win the war.
It was what you kept telling yourself.
You would.
It was just a matter of time.
You round the corner, stretching your arm across your chest, a simple form of physical therapy in deep space. You hadn’t seen earth since being deployed. The galaxy garrison seemed like a dream from another life. You had been on track for the chemistry department, long term missions to mars to analyze soil and dust, not this, not a war. You take a breath.
And spot the Red Paladin.
He’s one of the most recognizable people in the universe, and his grungy hair and distinctive outfit does him no favors. You’d never seen him before, not in the flesh. Sure. Voltron had saved your ass a handful of times. You wouldn’t have survived the assault on Arrakis if Voltron hadn’t rammed the shield. Trapped. Piloting a fighter craft that was closer to a mosquito irritating the Galra then pushing them back.
But you hardly knew him.
He’s gripping the railing tightly, trying to camouflage into the wall as an alien with crystalline blue skin and hair like saturated indigo leans into him.
The line of his shoulders is taut, brittle.
You don’t even think.
“There you are,” you force yourself to be synthetically cheerful as you smile easily at the paladin, who you realize quickly you don’t know his name but you know what he is and that must be an awful feeling, being so recognizable without being known. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” you lied, elbowing the blue alien out of the way. You could never tell much from a single glance at themis species despite their largely humanoid appearance.
You put your hand on his arm loosely, “come on, we’re late enough and you know how annoyed the others get.” Good, that seemed convincing enough.
The red paladin’s eyes go wide, his mouth a grimace and it’s then that you notice the feverish flush to his skin.
But he doesn’t pull away or argue.
You ignore the alien and decide small talk was the way to go until you put some distance, “I’m kind of hurt you didn’t come visit me while I was healing,” you stick close to the truth, “but since it only took an hour? a varga? for me to heal I won’t hold it against you.” He’s too warm.
Maybe the space flu?
Was that even a thing?
You weren't sure.
Mostly, you snuck into work camps and blew up strategic targets using whatever you could get your hands on to make a bomb. The chemistry came in handy.
He sways as he walks, looking like your roommate at the garrison after a few too many hits after an exam. “Do I know you?”
You flush, embarrassed. “Sorry, I just,” you look back, but the alien’s been left a couple turns back, “you looked uncomfortable.” You take a step back, letting go of him. “Are you okay?”
His expression furrows, mouth a pinched line as he goes from suspicious to annoyed, takes a u-turn back to suspicious as he studies you, before relaxing. “Yeah. yeah. . .who are you?”
You introduce yourself, taking on the meaningless garrison designation at the end, “technically second year member, though I’ve been with the runners mostly.” No designation more than a number.
“You do look human,” he replies simply, moving to get a look at your ears, “not many of those out here.”
“And yet somehow the sentries always look the other way,” you muse, “not very bright. I’m almost convinced the Empire’s in it’s failing bureaucracy days.”
He winces, before deadpanning, “eh, I don’t know how useful a lion is against the DMV.”
You laugh.
He takes slow deliberate breaths, steadying himself, “I’m Keith.”
“Seriously though, do you need to see a medic?” He looked in serious need of a tylenol. The ships were usually crisp, you wore a jacket most of the time to stave off the permanent chill.
Keith shakes his head, chewing his lip before meeting your gaze with an intense concentration in his violet eyes, as if he was gauging how much titrant he could add before hitting the endpoint and if half a drop was worth the risk. “I’m just. . .going through something.”
“Anyone I can call for you?” You weren't about to abandon him here. Sure, he was a paladin and could probably look after himself. But you couldn’t in good conscience walk away.
He swallows, looking down for a moment and you are startled to find how much you miss his attention boring into you with the loveliest eyes you’d ever seen.
“No,” Keith replies mulishly as he jerks away from you. “I’m fine.”
Which was a total lie. It was obvious he wasn’t feeling well but you weren’t about to get on his case. You were sure he had people for that. He wasn’t some random soldier in arms with you that you watched out for and hoped not to have to watch die.
You swallow the bitter thought away, crossing your arms over your chest.
Leaning back against the hall, you watch evenly as Keith stumbles, catching himself on the wall. His mouth is a drawn line of determination.
You didn’t understand why.
There was aid here. It wasn’t the same as crawling through cramped mining tunnels and swallowing back pain forcing yourself to work through it until the mission was accomplished.
“Do you need help,” you ask.
“No.” He leans a hand against the wall.
You raise a brow, wondering if he would pass out for whatever weird space flu he had clearly caught and you could only hope it was nothing like the infections that ran rampant in the work camps, or if he would give in and accept your offer of help. The former seemed more likely.
You don’t ditch him though, focusing your attention on the porthole to the stars.
There was no rush: no reason to help him by force. People didn’t learn if you babied them you’d caught on quick back on earth during your tutoring hours. You had to let them fall and smash their face in sometimes.
So you stay, watching the stars.
Keith makes no move to take another step.
It still got you, looking out into the vastness of space and realizing this really was your life now, you were out here, further than you’d ever dreamed. Everywhere you looked, novel stars, distant planets teaming with life. You could have done without the war, but it was what it was.
“And here I thought Mars would be the furthest I’d go,” you comment more to yourself than Keith.
The red paladin makes a small sound of acknowledgement.
“Earth’s, or was, at the beginning of our space age. People had barely begun to live on the research bases on Mars,” you watch him out of the corner of your eye in case he really does pass out, “so no Star Trek for me but now I’m here.”
“There’s a war going on.”
You turn over to look at him, sort of annoyed because yeah you got that, spent enough time in the trenches without a fancy lion spaceship, but the bubbling annoyance dissipates when you see the upturned corners of his mouth. Keith was teasing you.
Shifting your weight, you add, “yeah well, instead of being a footnote in a Mars base’s history I’ll be a footnote in this war instead.” Gallows humor. You needed a lot of that when regularly infiltrating camps and posing as a slave, as a prisoner, the bottom of the barrel that wouldn’t get a second glance from the Galra soldiers.
He frowns. “I don't think anyone’s just a footnote.”
“I was joking.”
“Oh.” Keith looks away.
You feel bad. “It’s probably better not to be so cynical,” you muse, “but it’s like the vice president thing, no one remembers them unless the president gets assassinated.” God you couldn’t help how dark your humor could veer even when trying to be positive.
He looks over at you, head tilted, considering. Despite being standoffish, Keith was easy to read unlike the slick space pirates you’d encountered.
You meet his gaze head on.
“I might need some help,” he allows.
You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth. “If you’re sure,” you utter, regarding him carefully and unable to keep the teasing from your voice. You shouldn’t. You barely knew him and what little you’d learned made it clear he wouldn’t take well to your teasing.
War made quick brothers out of everyone.
But Keith held himself afar.
A questioning glance danced in his uniquely violet eyes as he tried to get a read on you. “I am.”
You nod, stepping besides him and wrapping an arm around his waist. You were always caught by surprise by how heavy a grown adult could be. And depending on the alien. . .
He takes a step, still holding himself afar from you, barely resting any weight on you. His muscles were stiff under your touch, back rigid that matched the uncomfortable look on his chiselled features.
You follow his lead.
At Keith’s sedate pace, it would take quite a while before you dropped him off where you needed to go. Being personable was part of being a leader or it’d lead to mutiny. Not that you had ever gotten that far. The Galaxy Garrison had slapped the graduation badge on your uniform and sent you into space.
You scrabble for familiar territory, earth and the garrison. The Black Paladin was a Garrison member returned from the grave. Rumor had it all the paladins were garrison deserters.
Veronica McCain did share a familiar resemblance with the blue paladin. It was probably true.
“I attended the Garrison campus at Guiana,” you offer. “I was hoping for Texas or Florida to be closer to home, but I didn’t test into pilot or engineer.”
Keith makes a sound in the back of his throat.
Even through the fabric of his uniform, he felt warm. How anybody could be warm in such cold halls was anybody’s guess. A permanent chill had sunk its way into your bones. You missed the humid heat of Guiana.
“It was nice though. The jungle was pretty close and it was always hot,” you tell him. “I thought I wouldn’t miss the humidity, step outside and it was like having just showered but I do. These ships have to be at 15 C.”
“Texas is hot too.” Keith utters quietly.
“Isn’t the desert cold at night though,” you ask, already knowing the answer. It had been basic earth science.
“Yeah. It is.” There’s longing in his voice. You wish he’d say more just to hear him speak.
Warmth spreads, an embarrassing tell, through your cheeks.
“I did miss the snow while there,” you continue, “it didn’t snow much up in Vancouver but it was never as hot as Guiana, and the rain was warm!” You had never gotten over that. The rain would spot and start throughout the day but the sun would keep on shining.
“What were you,” Keith asks bluntly.
“Chemisist, more the physical and inorganic type,” you admit, “it was fun doing wet labs.” That had gotten you hooked back in regular school. “Then got shunted to command track after a few too many volunteering opportunities. Guess the lesson there’s to not try too hard.”
That gets a laugh out of him.
“You,” you ask him as he shifts more of his weight onto you, finally accepting the help he asked for. Stubborn guy.
“Pilot.”
You look over at him, his wild hair brushing against your cheek and the simple action shouldn’t excite you but it does. He was hot with sharp features offset by a certain enthralling earnestness but he could run a comb through his hair.
Keith didn’t seem the pilot type: arrogant, loud, generally strong personalities.
“You any good,” you ask though you’ve heard about Voltron so he has to be pretty fucking good to be part of them. How did Voltron choose its pilots?
He smirks easily, close to a smile at the mere mention of piloting and you knew that moment he loved it: didn’t matter if he was good at it or not. You swallow hard as anticipation buzzes under your skin for no good reason.
Get your head out of the gutter, you tell yourself.
“I’m a pretty good pilot,” Keith answers, somehow managing to sound like he’s stating a fact instead of bragging.
“Just pretty good?” You smile at him, letting him know you were only joking around as you both round another corner, finally making it to the transient quarters. People were always dropping in and out of mobile spaceports like these.
He snorts. “Better than most.” Keith shrugs, smiling over at you.
“Don’t be modest on my account,” you utter, looking away, not sure what to do about the growing heat in your body that had nothing to do with temperature controls.
“It’s true,” he says simply.
Honesty was a hard thing to come by. You were finding more and more reasons to like the red paladin as you reach his current room. No special treatment here.
Or maybe it was politics and optics, making sure everyone knew Voltron was of the people and not aiming to replace Zarkon as rulers of the universe.
Keith places a hand against the door, putting space between you both.
You swallow, glancing away, feeling some of the tension ease.
“You sure you don’t want me to send a medic,” you ask him, looking over at his striking eyes. The heat under your skin is a live wire: you curl your toes in your shoes. People usually didn’t affect you this much. Even the smell of him was so distinct, drawing you in.
It was an unprecedented reaction.
He must feel it too.
Keith studies you with an enraptured fascination shining in his wide eyes, mouth parted on the verge of answering. Both your bodies sway towards each other like branches in the wind: sunflowers orienting towards the sun.
You shift your weight from one foot to another.
It relieves enough tension for you to shift away.
“No. No medic,” Keith finally answers.
“Right then.” But you don’t make a move to leave.
He says nothing.
The silence is broken by the hum of the ship's engines under your feet. People move about and you can hear their footsteps echoing on the metal floors.
Supposedly quintessence powered ships smelled like ozone.
This one was powered by crystals and some Olkari engine. You wouldn't know the specifics, they were beyond you. And not your job.
You look back at him, ready to leave. The space between you could so easily tilt to awkward and you weren’t sure what you were doing or why you found yourself so entranced by Keith. You barely knew him. You didn’t want to be one of the soldiers with a photograph in your pocket and a farflung hope that you’d-
He’s looking at you, cautious, movements slow and deliberate as if he’s caught between thinking and simply doing.
Then Keith’s demeanour becomes determined: deciding to take the leap without looking down. He cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you.
For a second you’re baffled, trying to figure out how you got to point B when this wasn’t a bar and you had no agenda, before you shrug and kiss him back. Keith was undeniably attractive. He was even a bit taller than you which was compelling, you were on the tall side for a girl.
It’s not some unsolvable thought experiment, you kiss him back.
And a current of static electricity runs through your core. Heat pools after only just a kiss that steals your breath away.
You can’t get enough, his hands warm against your skin, igniting a delicious sensation in your very core. You want more. You kiss him harder, your mouth against his, sucking on his bottom lip.
Your hands clutch at the fabric of his shift.
Keith kisses you back, matching your frenzied energy, his mouth parting against yours and pulling you flush against his chest.
It does nothing to dissolve the tension, the charged energy between you spikes. Like a fire fed by wood it grew.
It was a heady feeling, his hands caressing your cheeks as Keith kissed you with a vigor you thought only existed in soapy dramas. Heat pools in your belly like a sinking stone: you liked his intensity.
Keith pulls away, catching his breath, resting his forehead against yours.
Some of the muddled list clears from your head, now completely in the gutter as you press Keith against the door to his room.
Oh. . .were you really doing this?
Keith looks a fuckable mess, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. Still, he hesitates.
You can feel the question linger in the air, can feel it in the featherlight touch of his hands ghosting over your cheeks as he makes to pull away, to let you go if you want to turn back now. But you don’t.
You want to run your hands through his hair. You’re practically burning up wondering how Keith would look splayed on the bed between your thighs. . .how he would feel.
Would he be just as intense in bed as he fucked you?
“You feel it too,” he asks quietly.
You furrow your brows, thrown. There were a lot of intense emotions coursing through you all narrowed down to feeling horny as a teenager back on earth. Masturbation only went so far.
You swallow, trying to rack your brain cells together and say something. Yeah. It was a bit. . .much. Space much. But that didn’t make any sense. You hadn’t taken any drinks from strangers.
The connection was too strong to discount the possibility of space weirdness affecting both of you.
“Yeah,” you reply, sounding more whiny than you’d like to. The apex of your thighs throbbed with want. Anticipation had built up and he was right there; Keith
s breath fanned over you, his forehead against yours like a touchpoint.
Your fingers were still curled into the fabric of his shirt.
In the hall.
Where anyone could see.
“So what now,” you ask, “medic?”
Keith snorts, “No. I just-do you want to come inside?”
You smirk. Everyone knew what that meant. There were so many variations with the same outcome.
“Yeah. Okay.” You put a pin in any alien space nonsense and slip inside Keith’s assigned quarters for however long Voltron was here for.
The lights are off. You don’t bother to study the room when Keith crushes his mouth against yours. You stumble around in the dark, feeling emboldened now that he’d voiced an invitation, he wanted this as much as you did, and run your hands up his chest. He was lean and lithe. Keith leans into your touch, a shiver running down his spine when you run your fingers through his hair and run your tongue over his bottom lip.
Keith moans, the sound scratchy from the back of his throat excites you.
It was thrilling to know you could elicit such a response from someone. You liked feeling hot and sexy. And from a guy like Keith who you were vibing with. . .
He finds the jagged hem of your cut tank top, which had doubled as a bandage, and slides his hands under your shirt. His fingers are calloused, skin hot against yours and there was always something so carnal about skin on skin touch. Keith clutches at your sides and leads you backwards.
You trust that he knows the layout.
Your mind has boiled down to simple desires.
“Keith,” you mumble against his mouth as he guides your hips against his and you feel his cock beneath the fabric. It goes straight to your ego: straight to your pussy.
More heat. It’s unbearable how much your body throbs and you moan against him, against his lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling.
“Mhm,” he asks, just as overcome with lust as you were. Keith tilts his head up, and you kiss his jaw, kiss the side of his throat, nipping at the flesh and enjoying the breathy moans he makes as your knees hit the bed.
You want more.
You move your hands to his shoulders, “let's get this off,” you utter softly, pushing at his jacket.
“Okay,” he replies, crowding you against his bed until you have no choice but to sit down. Keith discards his jacket, and pulls his shirt over his head.
Your breath hitches in your throat. It’s dark. You can’t see him well. You still react like a charged electron.
“Now you,” Keith states simply, not exactly a command. It was nice, the lack of mind games and subterfuge.
You scoot up further on the bed, shrugging your bomber jacket off.
He’s watching.
Awkwardness creeps up on you. There was no sexy way to take off a sports bra.
You pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. Then you peel off your sports bra. The elastic worked too well.
Keith’s sitting up on his knees.
“You’re beautiful,” he states.
“Come here,” you utter, inviting him closer.
He complies readily, cupping your cheek and kissing your mouth eagerly, closer to a lover than a random encounter.
You grab his other hand, guiding him up to your chest, to your breast. Keith runs his thumb over your nipple, gooseflesh rises on your skin. He trails bruising kisses down your throat.
Your breath catches in your throat. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you, savoring the feel of his chest against yours.
“Fuck,” you groan as Keith bites down hard at the crook of your neck, harder than you’d expected.
He stills. “I’m-I,” making to pull away.
“No,” you reach for him, tilting his head up as you move to straddle his waist, “it’s okay. I just didn’t expect it.”
“I won’t do it again,” he stammers out.
“I didn't say I didn't like it.” You push him down against the bed, topping him. “Just warn a girl.”
Keith wraps his hands around your hips, tugging at the waistband of your trousers. “These are kind of in the way.”
Laughing, you reply, “could say the same to you.” Your hands pop the button of his jeans.
It’s a fumble to pull your trousers down. Neither of you care, eager to get on with it. He shoves his jeans down his legs along with his boxers.
You straddle Keith, completely naked and lean down to capture his lips against yours. His cock twitches against your thigh and your toes curl up. His tongue runs over your top lip, you part your mouth, letting him in.
You cup his cheeks between your hands, your hips rolling against his.
He thrusts feverishly against you. His fingers dig into your bare hips, skin against skin.
“Come here,” Keith utters hoarsely, “I wanna fuck you.”
“Think I’d rather ride you,” you reply back breathlessly.
“You can do that after,” he whines, a rumble emanating from his chest but your head is too fucked up to make sense of it.
You sit up, hands on his chest. “That’s presumptuous of you.”
Keith grins, wrapping his hands around your wrists, and rolls you over so he’s on top. “Is it,” he asks rhetorically as his hand reaches between your thighs, ghosting over the wetness of your pussy, “when you’re this wet?”
You moan, canting your hips, cashing the feel of his hand, wanting relief. It was a mounting pressure in your belly, a forest fire under your skin and you needed Keith. “Okay. yeah,” you nod, closing your eyes when Keith bent his head and licked a stripe from your nipple to your collarbone. You whimper, lost in the sensation.
“Tell me what you want,” Keith asks.
“Fuck me. Please fuck me,” you utter, you hands clutchinf at his shoulders, bringing him flush agaisnt you.
Keith aquieses.
You bend your knees, spreading your legs as he positions his cock.
“Oh fuck,” Keith mutters as he pushes into you.
Fuck indeed. You moan his name without thought, closing your eyes and laying your head back against the bed. His cock fills you up, sliding into your pussy with ease given how turned on you were.
Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he stretches you out.
“God, yes,” you utter dazed.
Keith moves his hips. You roll your hips up to meet him. He nips at your collarbone as he thrusts into you with favour.
As promised he fucks you.
Keith captures your mouth in a kiss that catches the moans you make as he reaches between you and runs his thumb over your clit. His pace, the way he was kissing you madly. . .the heat that had been building since you’d met him comes crashing down.
You come.
Leaving you boneless.
“Keith,” you whimper.
“Sh,” he tells you, kissing the shell of your ear, “let me make you feel good.”
“You..sort of already did,” you utter completely fucked out.
“Turn over.” Keith says even as he’s already helping you move, his arms supporting your weight. He presses his lips on the back of your neck, as he grabs a pillow and sets it under you.
You bring up your knees, laying on your legs, “thought I was going to go next,” you tease, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair.
He stills, “if you. . .”
“No. No,” you shrug, “I did ask you to fuck me.”
Keith runs his hands over your shoulders, sliding down your sides. He squeezes your ass with his hands.
“Best two out of three,” you offer, half joking half serious because while you were still blissed out from having just orgasmed, you could already feel your pussy clench with anticipation. Seriously, the effect he had on you-
You can feel his smile against your skin, “If you think you can handle it.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” you reply, arching your back into him, titling your head back, and pulling his hair so you could kiss him. It was sloppy, and the angle was awkward, but none of it mattered when Keith stroked your pussy with his fingers, dipping into your wet folds.
Already stimulated, you shudder with pleasure.
Your tongue strokes his in an open mouthed kiss. He tastes as good as he smells, Keith filling up your senses like an incense stick wafting through a room.
He wraps an arm around your chest, his hand caressing your breast, pulling you against his chest, both of you melding together. Keith thrusts his cock into you again.
You squeeze your eyes shut, hand fisting the sheets of his bed, moaning into his mouth.
It was a combination of his cock in you, his thumb rolling your nipple in his hand, that set you aflame.
You couldn’t get enough, your hips jerking back, up to meet his. Keith fucks you against the bed.
He palms your breast in his hand, pulling you up to him, keeping you close as he plants a kiss at the juncture of your ear and jaw, on the side of your neck whilst nipping the skin and you moan, his cock hitting just the right spot as he slams into you.
First he grows comfortable, pulling almost entirely out before thrusting hard as he finds a pace that leaves you both a mess.
“Right there, right there,” you utter.
“Tell me how good I make you feel.”
He punctuates his words with a roll of his hips, his fingers draw a circle around your clit without giving you the satisfaction you desperately seek, already building up to another climax.
You nod jerkily. “So fucking good Keith. Your cock feels so fucking good,” you manage to reply.
He speeds up, faster, deeper, at your words. The bedframe, bolted down into the floor, creaks.
“Just like that.” You moan wantonly. “Right there.”
He responds to your words, pulling out to the head of his cock, teasing your entrance just so before slamming back in.
You shut your eyes and whimper, over sensitive to your very marrow. It was too much. Keith was trailing kisses down your spine, his breath warm, his cock twitching inside your filling every inch of your pussy up.
With a shudder, you come, stars behind your eyelids and short circuiting. You never knew sex could be this amazing. Not in real life.
You got what people meant about the right partner.
The right sexual energy to match.
You collapse, a puppet with its strings cut. Keith’s hand across your chest is the only thing keeping you from melding into the mattress like a blob. His hips thrust against your ass mindlessly, chasing his own climax.
With another couple of thrusts, his hips snapping against you, Keith moans your name and comes undone behind you.
He comes inside you, hot and sticky.
His hand grasps the back of your neck, holding you in place as he comes inside you. It’s unexpectedly hot. You didn’t know you could like this in bed.
You didn’t know how much you liked an obstinate expression with wide eyes until you met Keith. He had the type of soulful eyes you could drown in.
He had drawn out something in you that you hadn’t even been aware of.
Your thoughts center on him as he finishes inside you.
“You take my dick so good,” he says with a surprising amount of softness for what amounts to a one night stand and a pang strikes your chest, wishing you had met him under better circumstances where there might be-
Keith gets off you, slumping next to you on the bed.
There’s a thrum of satisfaction running through you as you look at his face in profile. The insane idea that you might just stay and cuddle plants itself.
That was impossible.
It was time to cut and run.
Sure, he’d fucked you. But he was also still half a stranger. No matter how jumbled your thoughts were, you refused to give into the pull he had on you.
You wanted to lay there with him.
Keith blinks slowly, looking as blissed out as you feel, reaching out a hand towards you, but stopping himself halfway.
You feel a little disappointed, but say nothing. It was just a one off thing you remind yourself, no matter how you felt.
Now that you can think a little more clearly, though the sensation remains like a lump in your throat that starts there no matter how much you swallow, you glance around the dark room. Only the barest red lights on the floor illuminate enough to cast shadows.
Keith’s own eyes reflect the light like a cat. Just a glimmer of traffic sign yellow.
But you’re too tired to think, so you file it away in your head under the nebulous details you’ve learned about the red paladin.
You blink, grimancing as Keith’s come runs down your thigh onto the sheets. At least they weren’t yours.
He closes his eyes.
“I’d say sorry about the mess,” you break the easy silence lulling you into staying there, “but it's your fault,” you tease way too familiarly.
Keith sounds embarrassed when he utters, “sorry about that. I can get carried away.”
You smile softly, tracing over his shadowed form with your eyes but resisting the urge to reach out. That part was over. “It was good.”
“You did mention.”
So he could joke.
You giggle in the darkness that envelopes the room. You were good at being friendly and taking charge but you understood the hesitancy to open up to people you just met.
Keith’s chest makes a rumbling sound akin to a cheetah purring.
You try and hold onto the thought, sure it means something, but the sound draws you in and you lose the battle against yourself, curling up into his side.
He takes this as the permission it is, and tangles his limbs with yours.
A thrum of warmth surges where Keith’s skin touches you and you’re not sure if its his running warm or if it's all in your head or-
your eyes drift closed.
He’s purring.
You know Keith would be embarrassed if you pointed it out.
So you say nothing.
Everything seemed so intangible anyhow. The world had been turned down a notch. The post orgasm glow remained unrivalled.
Even a hit from a bong didn’t measure up.
Your first time had been a real embarrassment (you hadn’t managed to get the boy’s cock in you), this was just a weird quirk of his, and it was soothing.
You close your eyes.
Keith’s breathing is deep and steady, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but don’t feel pressured to check.
It was nice, not scurrying off, not being more than a little drunk. War was exhausting. Earth had only been in it for less than three years. No wonder some aliens were in such shit moods.
You exhale.
There’s no way to mark the passage of time.
The bed shifts under you. Keith runs the back of his hand gently over your shoulder.
Your eyes flutter open.
“So would this be round two or three,” you ask lightly.
Keith smiles lightly, “you did say…”
“I did,” you laugh easily, blushing, the flush creeping from your cheeks to the tips of your ears.
You swing a leg over his waist, straddling him, but not without feeling the start of a soreness in your legs. It doesn’t deter you.
Keith lays back, watching you through his lashes as you sit up. He looks lovely.
You lean down and kiss his mouth, reaching for his cock with your hands. He was already half hard when you wrap your hand around his shaft.
His breath hitches in his throat as you move your hand. It’s been a moment since you’d jerk anyone, but it’s not rocket science. You press kisses down his throat, moving your hand firmly up and down his length until he’s completely hard. You nip at his collarbone, marking him the way he’d left bruising kiss all over you.
His cock twitches in your hand, Keith’s hips thrusting up into you.
Anticipation builds in your belly, but you want to set the pace, stay in charge. So you still your movements.
Keith whines under you, his hands holding your waist.
“Be a good boy for me,” you tell him. “Can you do that?”
“Mm.”
“Use your words.”
“Yeah,” he manages hoarsely, “I can be good.”
You smile, lining him up against your entrance. You shift your hips, teasing his cock against your wet folds, closing your eyes as you moan at the feeling.
Keith thrusts up, trying to get more friction.
You still wanting to drag it out. Though your thighs ached and your pussy throbbed and you wondering if you should just-
You rub his cockhead against your pussy, “oooOH,” you moan. Your nails scratch his chest lightly, trying to steady yourself. Your heart raced, back arching down to him.
“Come here,” Keith groans, his fingers trailing up, asking for more, his hand on the small of your back.
You give in, sinking down onto his cock.
He moans your name, shutting his eyes.
It’s pornographic, the way Keith rises up to meet you, hips bucking against yours, the expanse of his pale throat.
You roll your hips slowly, fucking yourself on his cock. At this angle, the way he filled you-
“Fuck,” Keith moans, “you feel so good.”
“I could say the same,” you reply, sliding against his hips, picking up speed. You hold yourself up, hand on his chest.
You suck in a breath as his cock thrusts into you. Static filled your head as you chased your pleasure, grinding against him. You tilt your head back, moaning his name, everything but Keith becoming background noise.
He palms your breast.
Your breath hitches when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and finger.
“Ah,” you sigh.
Your stomach was taunt.
He doesn’t go further. You sort of wish he would. You trusted Keith not to hurt you. . .too badly.
The idea excites you, as he wraps his hand around your throat.
You match him, curling your fingers in his hair and pulling hard, “look at me,” you try and order but your voice is a whine. You’re too hot and heavy to think.
His cock twitches inside you, filling you up and fuck it felt good to be streched out.
Keith’s thumb strokes the side of your throat, his grip firm. “Do you like this,” he asks, his gaze heavy on you. He was entirely concentrated on you. It was like being worshipped.
It sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.
“I wouldn’t mind if you got rougher,” you admit, finding it easy to trust him.
He looks away.
You falter. Had you read things wrong?
Keith bucks his hips up against you and you let the thought go, sinking onto his cock and groaning, “Keith…”
It was easy to let go when it felt this good. His hand around your throat, fingers digging into your hips, you were sure there’d be bruises tomorrow. Not that anyone would be able to tell from over your uniform.
A shudder runs down your spine, you squirm on his cock mindlessly, thinking about bruises in the shape of his hands, about the marks on your neck you could already feel blooming on your skin. Heat surges in your chest, something primal as your thoughts linger there.
You nails run down his chest, leaving shallow scratches as you try and get a better hold, desperately grinding against Keith, down on the bed, his cock ramming into you. “Fuck,” you think, “fuck. . .Keith. . .”
You can’t stand it.
The pressure in your stomach, the heat scorching your pussy, the sound of Keith’s whines and moans, your name tumbling out of his mouth like a hymn that raised your heart beat, blood pounding in your ears.
Keith squeezes your neck, your throat bobs under his fingers and fuck-
You come.
Your legs tremble, unable to support you any longer as you collapse, a quivering mess on Keith. His hands move down to grip your thighs, pulling you down flush against him, down to the hilt of his cock as he comes, moaning erotically.
The thread of heat doesn’t dissipate entirely as you rest on his chest, boneless and sticky with sweat, but it relaxes and you breath the scent of him in instead of pulling away entirely.
Keith strokes a hand down your spine, an afterthought, “that was. . .”
“Yeah.” You’re exhausted.
You close your eyes, listening to the inhuman rumble of Keith’s chest as it rises and falls with every breath you take.
You end up slipping out. The halls are in the light cycle, but no one bothers you as you walk.
Getting up the next morning is hell.
Your legs are sore, and that’s not even mentioning how much your pussy hurts when you take a step. You take a dose of painkillers still remaining from your injury and check your messages.
Nothing from earth.
That was expected.
The meager universal communications were taken up by the war effort. You still sent your family messages, even if it was just one way. It was a way to keep in touch. It felt like watching starlight and knowing it was millions of years old, a form of time travel.
You shower.
Keith’s come was a mess on the inside of your thighs and the thought is not as gross as it should be, your skin warming up, zapped by static. You run your fingers over your clit and fuck yourself in the shower thinking of the red paladin and his come.
You get out, brushing your hair out, not looking in the mirror at the purple hickies spread out like a constellation on your chest, and realize how weird you were being.
Come was gross.
You hated swallowing so you never did. The tentative relationships at the garrison had been short, you had all been teenagers, and now anything that happened was a one off thing sometimes involving aliens.
You swallow, gripping the counter of your sink. You were horny again.
No.
Not going there.
No space weirdness this morning.
Because you’re on leave for the space equivalent of 6 or 5 days, you don’t have much to do. You get food. It had taken getting used to, and figuring out which brightly colored pastel goo thing was good, but there was a variety. You still had no clue what was plants or animals up in space.
The more liberated planets, the more supplies trickled in. Pirates loved to take a cut.
You eat as soldiers stop by to refuel, fill up on supplies. Despite the stress, you missed being out on the front. Being out of the action sucked.
Sitting around on a spaceship was boring.
It wasn’t like they had shops or movie theaters. Walking around too much ended up with you being in the way.
You clench your jaw, feeling feverish.
And you had just been getting better. . .
You shove the thought away.
You end up watching space TV: reality TV shows like Galra Ninja Warrior and nature docu series on plants, some you’ve been on, before finally sliding your hand under the waistband of your trousers and rubbing your clit.
It takes the edge off, but the heat’s still there, pressed up in the pit of your stomach, cheeks flushes and you sigh, unsatisfied as you click to something other than the marine biomes of Kmeolsuahr. For aliens larger than a schoolbus, they were peaceful creatures. Since they were filter feeders, agriculture had never developed a hold on their planet, but water generators were plentiful.
Yet another show starring Galra. It was the most common type of show in the Empire. Hijacking communications had given this traveling spaceship TV. You were glad for it now.
You curl up, the communicator snug around your wrist translating everything instantaneously. It was the part in the soap where there has to be a duel for honor. What a load of crap.
The two Galra circle each other, close ups of their face like a mexican stand-off. Through TV you got to know the Glara in the empire as more than just soldiers. Spending time in the camps taught you that even Galra citizens could be arrested for treasonous statements against Zarkon.
They make growling alien sounds, something between a jaguar and a sound not found on earth, an underlying clicking that raises the hairs on the back of your neck.
You connect the dots.
The glowing eyes, the purrs and rumbles, and whatever weird alien thing was going on: the red paladin was part Galra.
Only that made no sense.
He was from Earth.
First contact had been what, when the paladins had disappeared? When the Kerberos mission had been abducted, and boy had that made fringe conspiracy theorists happy. . .how could he be part Galra?
Was it even your problem?
Surely this would go away. . .
You were leaving in a little over five days.
You curl up and watch TV until you fall asleep, determined to enjoy the rest while it lasted and your weren’t trudging through waist deep mud.
“Read through the debrief,” a commander with a nebulous rank above you asks. In your line of work, so much was redacted. Information gathering was a fancy way of saying spy. It was why you worked so closely with the rebels.
You don’t even blink at the slight pale easter egg yellow alien, ears that resembled hair, long and droopy like a rabbit: there were four of them. You’d met stranger. “Yeah. Long mission.”
You were not looking forward to being on a planet with an inhospitable surface. A sun close enough that set the surface on fire with it’s rays, no thanks.
Still, it was your assignment.
“It is vital.”
They always said that.
It seemed to be extracting some key players. Who they were remained unknown until you had to know. It was a lot of flying blind to keep information from leaking to the wrong ears. Loose lips sink ships and all that jazz.
“I’ll treat it that way,” you nod, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth. It would be fun flying a hijacked Galra fighter ship. The planet was pretty deep in Empire controlled space.
“And,” the alien looks you up and down like a Garrison RA finding a stain on your uniform during morning inspection, “get rid of that scent.”
“What,” you ask plainly, “scent.”
The alien raises a hairless muscle over its eye. The gesture is human enough. “Voltron has docked here.”
It was subterfuge. Both of you were in the same line of work, you could do this dance in your sleep. “As far as I know, yes.” You are careful to keep your expression neutral, feeling stupid for not having used negating get. It wasn’t even rationed, but used pretty widely. There were many aliens who relied primarily on scent, and those whose sense of smell was far sharper than yours.
“Mm.”
You hold their gaze.
You weren’t one to waver.
“Any further questions?”
“None.”
“Good.”
You walk blithely back to your room, intending to shower, again, and probably take care of the warmth in your gut. The heat was like an uncomfortable itch under your skin that stubbornly remained no matter how much you ignored it.
How was it even possible that Keith was any part alien let alone Galra? You were pretty sure the entire planet would have known if the Galra arrived on the planet.
It was intriguing.
Your mind drew up the details you knew, trying to make them fit. It was half mental exercise, half the urge to actually get to the bottom of this. Keith didn’t look half Glara like Prince Lotor and his gang of misfits. . .quarter, one sixteenth. . .
Occam's Razor.
The mystery occupied your mind as you made it back to your quarters.
Keith is pacing outside your door.
How did he even know where your quarters were?
“Did you sniff your way here,” you ask, genuinely curious. Maybe the traits might not be apparent. . .just how Galra was the red paladin. You were reminded again how little you actually knew him.
Understanding fills his eyes; he knew you knew. Keith looks over at you for a second before ducking his head dejectedly, a straw dog expecting to be run off.
Your heart ached.
How a paladin of Voltron could be so self conscious despite going toe to toe with the Empire on a daily basis. . .you didn’t know. They were only flesh and blood after all.
You take pity on him, “so is this going to be a thing,” the corners of your mouth lift into a small smile. You were still a little sore. You wouldn’t mind going another few rounds. . .
But you needed to clear some things up first.
Just how much of this between you was space Galra funkiness?
Keith snorts, looking up, meeting your searching gaze. His shoulders were still tense, unsure that you weren’t about to tell him to shove off. Not the loner type entirely by choice then, his innate awkwardness must have made it hard to connect.
It wasn’t a problem you’d ever had, rushing into everything headfirst, taking charge.
“Not like there’s a lot of humans to choose from up here,” he says self-deprecatingly.
You bite the inside of your cheek. “I’m down for some alien funkiness,” you answer evenly, taking a step towards him. He inhales sharply, looking away again, this time in thought.
The lines of his face increase, clearly uncomfortable, frowning.
“I can’t usually,” Keith admits in a tense voice, “smell this well. . .though I can smell better than Shiro.”
“Shiro?”
“The black paladin,” he explains, surprised he has to explain at all.
You answer his unvoiced question, “everyone tends to focus on the color of the lion rather than the pilot inside.”
“Oh. That’s dumb.” He looks a little relieved at the anonymity that grants.
“Is it just me then,” you ask, getting to the bottom of things.
He nods, meeting your gaze. “I don’t know why but I can’t stop thinking of fucking you,” he says without ceremony.
You find yourself blushing. The connection went both ways, the very alien connection. “Don’t hate me but I think we should go to the medic.”
Keith frowns. “Or we could just fuck.”
“That horny,” you tease, raising a brow, “or was I just that good?”
Keith cusps a hand against your cheek, his thumb running over your lips.
Your mouth parts, the tip of your tongue grazing his thumb.
“So you don’t want to fuck,” Keith asks, a playful smirk on his lips.
You swallow, the urge to say yes right there as his touch on you entranced you, sending desire cascading through your body down to your toes. “This isn’t just alien weirdness is it?” You wanted it to be more.
“No,” he shakes his head, his breath mingling with yours. “That’s-I’m not that impulsive.”
“Good,” you mutter, pressing your body against his, and opening the door to your room.
#keith kogane#vld keith#keith x reader#keith kogane imagine#mine#smut#surprisingly soft for being esentially a take on the whole galra heat thing in fanon#part 2 will b just sex lol#feedback much appreciated (as a motivator too)
425 notes
·
View notes
Text
Take My Hand
TW: SUICIDE, TRAUMA ETC
The Shadowsinger was standing on the ledge of the House of Wind. The fall would be deep, the mountain egdges sharp. His giant black wings flexed, as if reminding him of their existence. That the moment they would snap open his body would propel up into the cold night air and towards the lights of Velaris.
Unless they didn't. In which case his body would be crushed upon impact. His only hope would be that his immortality would not stand in the way of his death. It would suck to remain alive while impaled on the mountain's sharp teeth.
His shadows shuddered as if in answer to that thought. Azriel signed, irritated at them. He wasn't going to jump…was he?
His foot fumbled further towards the edge, as if an invisible hand had pushed him forward. The Shadowsinger looked downwards, tears forming in his eyes from the sharp wind. He could throw up a shield, but he couldn't care less about the way the wind ruffled his hair or the freezing cold in the middle of the night.
Two of his shadows travelled towards his scarred fingers, interlacing with them. He frowned as he looked at the back of his hand. His shadows rarely came in contact with his scarred flesh, as if they too were repulsed by it. Yet as one of those shadows remained tangled with his fingers, the other one danced backwards. Towards the ring that stood behind him. Towards the priestess standing in the doorway, looking at him like he had stuck a hand between her ribs, reached in and twisted her heart out of her chest.
----
Gwyneth Berdara had frozen in place, watching the Shadowsinger swaying on top of the ledge. At first she thought he was admiring the view just before he flew off, towards the appartment she knew he owned in Velaris. But then, his massive wings were hanging towards the floor and that just didn't look the right pose for a person preparing for take off. Her thoughts froze however the moment Azriel turned to look at her. His hazel eyes were liked silver, a few tears rolling down his cheeks.
She rushed forward, as if a hand gave her a sharp push towards him. Perhaps it was her own desperation that drove her towards were he stood. She came to a halt before she reached him however, afraid that her presence might shove him off that ledge.
"What are you doing?" Her whispered words might as well have been a shout in the quiet of the sparring ring.
Azriel looked towards that steep fall past the ledge, before locking eyes with her. "Nothing?"
"That sounds more like a question, rather than an answer, Shadowsinger." She tried to keep her words light. Despite her racing heart. Which he could probably hear anyway.
Azriel blinked at her. He looked away from her. The stars glittering around him, interlacing with his shadows, his massive black wings drooping behind him, that strong jaw locked tight, the sadness in his hazel eyes; he looked like a fallen, dark Prince.
Gwyn dared another step towards him. The wind ruffled her hair and she nervously tucked then behind her ears.
"You know," she stared, biting her lip as her heart jumped in her chest, "after Sangrava I thought my life was over."
The Shadowsinger cocked his head to the side, the only sign that he was still listening to her.
"My sister was dead. I lost-" she inhaled a breath that made the Shadowsinger look at her, the pain in his eyes as sharp as Truthteller, "I lost my dignity, a part of myself. My entire life was gone, really."
Gwyneth reached the ledge he was standing on and placed her palms on it, right next to his feet. She squinted up at him. His eyebrows were drawn together. Her heart ached for him, for how lost he looked…how lonely.
"The priestesses are in favor of talking things through. They tried to help me sort through my feelings or rather, through my numbness by talking." Her lips formed a sad smile at the bitter memory. "All I wanted in those days was for my sister to be beside me. We never had to say a thing to each other to be able to be there for each other. All we had to do was hold hands. I know it sounds ridiculous-"
"It doesn't." Azriel looked surprised at his rough words. His throat worked, as if he had been trying to cry out this entire time but just now was able to speak up.
Gwyn nodded and reached out a hand, towards him. His eyes shattered into a million pieces as he looked at that hand. He swallowed.
"You don't want to hold my hand, Berdara." He shook his head.
Gwyn frowned up at him, she looked at her own outreached palm. "Why not, Shadowsinger?"
"Because," Azriel said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked exhausted. Now that she stood closer, she could see the dark circles under his eyes, his slumped shoulders. When was the last time he had had any rest? "Because they are hideous." He said, "And so is the rest of me."
He reached over the ledge to gaze downwards again, as if his words gave him a reason to make up his mind. Gwyn barely registered climbing up on the ledge until she was standing beside him, her palm still reaching for him. She would grab anything she could; his hand, his arm, his shoulder, his wing, anything she could hold onto. Anything to keep him from falling to his death. For if he was gone, she might as well jump after him. There would be no life for her without the Shadowsinger. Without her mate.
She ached for him. She couldn't live without him and the idiot had no idea.
"Take my fucking hand, Azriel." She snapped. "Or I'm jumping after you. And you would have no choice but to save me."
His lips parted, as if her words surprised him. She knew he would have no choice but to save her life, even without him knowing about the mating bond. Its a mates first instinct to protect. They were unable to let the other intentionally hurt.
"Berdara," he sounded conflicted, he probably was, she had put him in an impossible position. In order to save her life, he would have to save his first.
"Take. My. Hand."
She swallowed the knot in her throat and blinked back the tears that formed in her eyes.
----
Azriel blinked back at the Priestess. She was looking at him, her teal eyes lined with silver and her throat bobbing. Her auburn hair whipped around her head, the wind merciless. His shadows bounched on the top of her head, interlacing with strands of red hair. She looked fierce. And lovely.
The Shadowsinger's heart gave a sharp jerk and he tumbled forward. He grasped her hand almost out of instinct. And he was breathing hard as he looked at their hands clasped together.
His scars stood out in the darkness. He hoped they didn't feel rough against her soft skin. He glanced at her face. A faint blush stained her cheeks.
Azriel sniffed, opening his mouth to apologise, "Gwyn-"
He froze as her scent burrowed in his nose. Froze as he realised what that jerk inside his chest had been. The terror that had him in his clutches would never compare to anything Azriel had ever experienced.
Nothing was more terrifying than feeling utterly undeserving as Azriel finally laid eyes on the thing he had wished for the most.
His mate.
Fierce. Lovely. Kind. Beautiful.
Gwyneth Berdara.
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
Operation Get Laid
‘Tis the Season of Smut Challenge Days 7 & 8
Prompt: MC wearing nothing but a Santa hat & I’ll be sure to stuff your stocking (NSFW)
Fandom: Obey Me!
Pairing: Lucifer x MC (Female)
“Yoo-hoo! Lucifer, wait up! Wait for me!” Asmodeous’s cheery voiced echoed as he skipped after his elder brother. Lucifer had heard the annoying chirping of the younger demon and scowled in displeasure at the havoc was wreaking in the hallways.
“Shut up, Asmodeous!” Lucifer snapped, while turning to confront him. “All students are held to the highest of standards, and I would expect nothing less of them, much less from one of own siblings. Please remember to conduct yourself accordingly.”
“But Lucifer, I have some-”
“Enough!” Lucifer bellowed, casting him a final glare before spinning back around. “Diavolo and I are scheduled to meet in precisely five minutes, and I mustn’t keep him waiting.”
Increasing his pace, Lucifer stormed down the hall until he reached the main entrance where Diavolo was waiting for him. Diavolo and Barbatos were engaged in what appeared to be a private discussion, given their hushed tones and the occasional glances that surveyed the room.
Did something happen? Lucifier pondered, wondering what circumstances could have possible led to the disappearance of the carefree smile the young ruler normally wore on his face. As he approached the pair, Lucifer cleared his throat to announce his arrival, and no sooner was the familiar grin painted back on Diavolo’s face.
“Lucifer! Thank you for being willing to meet me on such short notice,” Diavolo boomed, arms outstretched to greet his second-in-command. “I have a very important assignment, and you’re the only one I entrust to be able to get the job done.” Peering over Lucifer’s shoulder, Diavolo beckoned for him to scooch closer.
“Asmodeous was supposed to deliver this message, but there’s no time for that anymore. I need you to immediately visit MC’s room and discuss what this Christmas holiday in her world looks like. This year we would like to incorporate traditions from the other realms, however we don’t have much time to do so, meaning you have to hurry with this. Can I count on you to do this for me?”
“Of course, you can! Rest assured, I will not fail you,” Lucifer vowed, before speeding up his pace down the hallway.
“Well, that went rather smoothly,” Barbatos commented. “It seems he doesn’t suspect a thing.”
“Did he fall for it?” Asmodeous asked when he finally came strolling up.
See it had not gone unnoticed that recently Lucifer had been agitated and more snappy than usual. He had been so absorbed in his studies and monitoring the other students, this left him feeling….well, rather pented up. This prompted Diavolo to form the committee of him, Barbatos, and Asmodeous known as Operation Get Lucifer Laid. MC at first was mortified when they contacted her about the plan, but soon fell onboard since she herself was feeling lonely and in need of her own ‘relief’.
“It would appear so,” Diavolo confidently responded. “However, just in case go keep an eye on the situation for me, will you, Asmodeous?”
Nodding in compliance, Asmodeous began to trot down the hallway and stealthily journeyed to MC’s room.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“MC? MC, I’m here under Diavolo’s orders,” Lucifer projected through the door. “First and foremost, you have my sincerest gratitude that you were willing to assist us in this matter in helping expand the traditions of Devildom……are you there? Why aren’t you responding to me? Are you alright? Anyway, I’m coming in now.”
The handle on the door creaked open and Lucifer walked only to nearly crash into the chair in front of him when his sight was blessed with MC posing provocatively on the bed in only her natural glory minus this red hat perched on the top of her head. Lucifer unconsciously gulped when his girth below the waist strained uncomfortably against the seams of his pants. The sight of the normally composed eldest demon brother being caught acting rattled must have been the reaction MC was seeking since she cracked a low giggle.
“You should probably shut the door,” MC instructed the still dumbfounded Lucifer. “Unless you prefer an audience? And in case you haven’t put two and two together by now, Diavolo set you up so we could spend some time together.”
Lucifer didn’t need to be informed twice to hustle behind him to slam the door close. He would worry about Diavolo later, but now the very idea of anyone else witnessing his human in this state of undress would be unforgivable. Once the door was securely locked, MC traipsed over and threw her arms around his neck. She removed the hat from her head and instead placed it on top of Lucifer’s.
“Merry early Christmas, Lucifer,” she breathed, intentionally rolling the words into a slur as she uttered them. “In my world the children believe that a man by the name of Santa Claus brings good girls and boys presents for behaving all year long. Well, haven’t I been a good exchange student this year, Lucifer? Don’t I deserve a little special something as well?”
Gone was student council president’s stunned state of mind, and back was his typical confidence of arrogance. We wasted not a moment’s notice leaning towards her and use his teeth to fervently nibble on the contour of MC’s neck. While heated pants pursued through the crease of her lips, Lucifer managed to disrobe himself until he was left standing bare. MC tore away from the attack of the demon’s lips, and her fingers descended the canvas of her body seeking the most sensitive of her spots.
“Indeed, you are right about being a good girl, MC,” Lucifer chuckled, his hands wrapping around his own firm cock to jerk himself in preparation of fucking her senseless. “My good girl knows just how much it pleases me to see her get off while thinking about me.”
“Please, help me,” MC whimpered, her body longing for more stimulation than she was able to provide on her own. “I’m wet enough to handle you now. Please let me give myself to you!”
Never one to deny himself the pleasures in life, Lucifer willingly obliged by sauntering over the bed to join MC. Throwing her ankle over his shoulder, Lucifer slipped a finger, followed by a second inside of her to see how wet she really was.
“Hmm, your body is feeling very honest today,” he breathed, “It looks like my good girl is ready to get her stocking stuffed.” “Wait, how did you know about stock-!”
The words of her question were gone and overtaken by loud moans as Lucifer aligned himself at her entrance and pressed beyond her glistening folds. His hips came crashing into hers as the demon leaned forward to allow his tongue to tease the flushed breasts of her generous chest. Their bodies thrusting in rhythm together, MC adjusted her position to stimulate her clit against the muscles of Lucifer’s toned lower body and uttered a guttural groan when she glided against the sweat now dripping down the cuts of his toned abdomen.
Lucifer filled her to the brim, stretching MC out until her walls began to tingle and flutter around his cock. She mewled and dragged her nails down the sides of his arms, a glimpse of desperation flashing in her eyes as she silently pleaded with him.
“Does my good girl want to come?” Lucifer taunted, his deliberately grazing along the swell of her swollen clit. “Very well then. I’ll be nice to you today and oblige.”
Shaking her leg off from his shoulder, Lucifer bent down to lift MC up and place her over his shaft standing tall at attention. Wrapping her legs around his torso, MC and Lucifer both hissed when she sank down onto him and the rush of heat pulsated through every inch of their bodies. Her breasts swayed in synch to the pace of their movements, each becoming more frenzied than the last while they rose closer and closer to reaching their peaks provided by the other. Lucifer’s mouth was suddenly drawn to MC’s, and his tongue forced its way through the part of her lips. His tongue danced in her mouth while the lewd sounds of the demon pumping deeper and deeper into MC’s arousal echoed throughout her room.
She bounced on his erection, sighing and panting in a carnal delight at how absolutely blissful it felt to have Lucifer assaulting her in one of the most satisfying ways possible. Bodies on fire, all the stimulation led to the eventual release they both had been desperately seeking. Lucifer gently tossed MC back onto her bed and he collapsed beside her as he fought to regain his breathing under control.
“Wow,” MC sighed, breathless and a bit sore from the intense sex the two just engaged in together.
“I knew I would please you,” Lucifer boasted. “Say, remind me to thank Diavolo later.”
“Diavolo?” MC blinked in confusion. “Sure, did he do something for you?” Ready for round two, Lucifer rolled over and swiftly straddled MC, secretly fuming she had the nerve to utter the name of another man in front of him!
“Don’t mention other men when you’re around me,” he chastised. “Bad girls need to be punished just like good goods need to be rewarded, and you my dear were a very naughty girl just now.”
Curling his long fingers around the curves of MC’s waist, Lucifer gave no warning before snapping his hips forward and roughly plunging deep into the heat of her core, leaving her begging for him to really give it to her.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Meanwhile, outside the door was a nosy Asmodeous with his ear pressed against the door. MC’s screams of ecstasy were enough to assure the younger demon that the Operation Get Lucifer Laid could be deemed successful. Although Asmo was supposed to report back to Diavolo regarding their victorious achievement, he did a quick surveillance of the hallway to assure he was completely alone. Shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, he slid his hands down the front of his pants to relish some playtime with himself at the expense of his brother and partner as a reward for his contribution to the plan that got Lucifer laid.
#'tis the season for smut#obey me#obey me lucifer#obey me smut#obey me fanfic#obey me lucifer x mc#obey me lucifer fanfic#obey me lucifer smut#obey me asmodeus#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos
442 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm Gonna Crawl
Chapter 24
After we left the restaurant he took me back to the hotel, no blindfold this time. When we got into the suite, he sat me on the bed and handed me an envelope. “Open it.” He smiled widely, his cherub cheeks slightly pinker than normal, the color striking against his alabaster skin.
I lifted the flap and pulled out a piece of photo paper. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes.” He grinned, baring teeth. “It is now my most treasured possession.”
“You just took these photos last night…” I was baffled by how quick he had them developed.
“I had them developed today, before Bonzo decided to trap me at the dealership.” He made a face at the memory.
I looked down at the photograph in my hands, debating mentally whether or not it was actually me posing for the camera. It looked like me but somehow a different me. Perhaps it was the fact that I never liked my photograph taken, therefore it rarely happened or perhaps it was the fact that I felt anxious yet happy when the photo was taken, forced, yes, but I was happy to make him exuberant by obliging his request.
“Do you like it?” When I looked up from the photo of me half naked on the couch, his face was that of a six-year-old who wrapped a rock in Christmas paper for his mother, anxiously awaiting her reaction upon opening it.
I nodded my head, gazing back down at the photo. I felt as though I were on a completely different planet, confused by the fact that I felt so far from my own body, as though I were in some stranger’s or in a pod person type situation. I mentally laughed at the absurdity of my recent paranoia. Obviously, I wasn’t in some live version of Invaders of the Body Snatchers.
“These ones are yours.” Jimmy derailed my intensely insane train of thought. “I have another copy of them on their way to my home in Scotland.”
“Scotland? I thought you lived in England.” I put the photos on the end table and walked toward him.
“I have a home in London, but I think I will go back to Boleskine.” He dragged a hand through my hair and held the back of my head in his palm. “With you.” His smile was breathtaking.
“What about my job, Jimmy?” All of my obligations were starting to weigh on me. “My apartment?”
He pursed his lips and gestured for me to sit down on the edge of the bed. He sat beside me and held my hand. “Like I said, I want you to think about it, love. But as for answers to your very reasonable inquiries, I do have some solutions.”
“I’m not quitting my job.” I blurted out, knowing that was the solution he would come up with.
“Of course not, darling.” He gave me a sour face as though what I was thinking was audacious. “With touring, my home life back in Europe is short-lived. Although, I’ve a feeling we all may be taking a larger break than normal…” He was stuck somewhere in his head, thinking and calculating.
“Your point, Jimmy?”
He looked up at me as though I had woken him from a dream. “Right, sorry.” He gave a small smile. “You can come home with me, see all of Europe, we can do whatever you want, all day, every day, then when it’s time for us to tour you can go back to Boston and work for the remainder of the time, then of course come back home with me.” He smiled condescendingly.
“Jimmy, I don’t think my boss is going to go for that.”
“He may if I have a word with him.” The way his accent curled around the word ‘word’ almost knocked me over. I was suddenly amazed by how over the early days of this adventure, I didn’t completely cream myself over his accent alone.
Back to reality, I shook my head at him. “I doubt–”
“Think about it.” He looked at me eagerly. “I’ll pay for your apartment while you’re with me so it’s there when you need it. Please, just think about it.”
I nodded.
“Now for tonight, we think of only tonight. No future, no past, just now.” He stood up from the bed and padded toward the radio and flicked it on. He grabbed my hands and pulled off of the bed and into his arms. He held me as though we were going to waltz and swayed around the hotel room to Dancing in the Moonlight.
When the song was quieting to an end, he looked at me, stopped moving his feet and held my face in his hands. “Do you love me?” There was a vulnerable glint in his eyes.
I was once again stunned by how forward his question was. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out, shockingly to his amusement.
“You’re afraid.” He smiled but disappeared as fast as it had come. “Why are you afraid?”
I took a deep breath and wondered why I was so frightened at the thought of voicing my feelings. “Can I be completely blunt?”
He smiled again. “Of course.”
“Well, I will start by stating the obvious.” he nodded and gestured for me to continue. “You are a ‘rock star’, a very famous one at that…” His eyebrows furrowed quizzically. “You are a notorious whore, James.
The moment you grow even remotely bored of me, you’re going to find some other poor girl to fall in love with then I will be left heartbroken, wondering what’s wrong with me, all the while there is nothing wrong with me, I just fell for someone unattainable.” He opened his mouth to speak so I pulled a Jimmy and held up my hand to quiet him while I continued. “I am not afraid of heartbreak, it is a part of life and in its darkness grows spectacular beginnings, like this. But that’s all this is, a beginning. There is no middle, no end. It’s a dalliance, our dalliance.” I paused and gazed into his wide, soulful eyes. “If I admit my feelings, it will only be harder to walk away.”
He deliberated, taking everything in slowly. I could see the gears shifting behind his eyes, that calculating look he got when being mischievous, then it all clattered and I could see the shattered pieces all over his face and in his posture. A look only a man mercilessly beaten of all dreams has. “You’re not coming home with me.” He seemed to be mostly speaking to himself.
I held my fingers under his chin and lifted his chin to look at me. “No past, no future.” His eyes burned into mine as I spoke. “Just now.”
“Just now.” He repeated, trying to force a smile which quickly disappeared the moment I let go of his face. He cleared his throat and looked at the time. “We should probably get to bed.” He stood up and stalked toward the bathroom.
“Jimmy, it’s not even 10:00 pm.”
“It’s been a long day.” He murmured without turning around and continued into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
My heart sank heavily in my stomach. I could feel it poisoning me, making its way through every vein in my body, weighing me down and making me sick. “Fuck.” I muttered under my breath. I heard the water from the shower head hit the basin of the tub furiously and stood there debating my next move. Go to bed and hope he’s fine by the morning or give him at least one of the things he wants. I stared up at the ceiling, tracing the patterns with my eyes, my fists clenched so hard I could feel my nails tearing into my palms. “Goddammit.” I padded to the bathroom door and opened it quietly.
The shower curtain was drawn, covering the entirety of the tub. I could hear Jimmy softly humming the same tune he had been for the past few days. I took a deep breath and walked toward him, opened the curtain, held my dress up and stepped in.
He looked at me curiously at first then his expression became somber as he turned around to run his face under the water. “You’re going to get your dress wet.” He mumbled through the stream.
“I don’t care.” I placed my hand on his back, between his shoulder blades. My touch sent a shiver down his spine. When he turned back around to face me, I wasted no time. I clutched onto the side of his face with one hand, the other on his chest and pulled his face to mine. I kissed him hungrily, waiting for him to kiss me back with as much fervor.
He pulled away slightly and gazed down at me, his expression still somber. He opened his mouth to speak but quickly bit down on his lower lip and closed his eyes.
I rubbed his cheek with my thumb, my fingers tangled in his wet hair. I could feel the water from the shower head running down my arm, uncomfortably making the right side of my dress wet. “Jimmy.” He wouldn’t open his eyes, he just bit down harder on his lip and I wondered if this beautiful, naked, wet guitar god I held in my palm was crying. I took a deep breath. “Please look at me.” He lifted his head and slowly opened his eyes. Small teardrops fell from them, his emeralds glistening and the whites of his eyes slightly bloodshot. He gazed at me, his teeth still biting into his lip as though he were trying to keep the tears from pooling in his eyes. I held my other hand to his other cheek and pressed my lips to his firmly. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, the words swelling to the brim of my throat, scratching their way out. “I love you, James.” I whispered, the beating of the water in the basin much louder than my voice.
His eyes widened and his teeth retracted from his lower lip. “You love me?” His voice slightly cracked.
I nodded my head, my eyes glued to his. I knew I would regret saying it, only because both of us parting and going separate ways was inevitable, but I meant it. This foolishly brazen and stubborn man, though completely obnoxious in his courtship, had made me irrationally fall for him in a way I can honestly say no man ever had.
“Don’t say it to make me feel better.” He eyed me cautiously. “I don’t want that. I don’t want to make you feel as though you need to say it because I - as you so lovingly put it - throw a fit.”
I shook my head, finding it hard to hide my smile. I was elated in his presence. Something I didn’t think was possible only days ago. “It’s a dangerous game we’re playing, Mr. Page.” I looked at him seriously. “A very dangerous game. But I can’t deny how I feel and I can’t lie to you.” His eyes were starting to well. “I do love you, you absolute crazy, frustrating fool.”
He grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me hungrily. Deeper into the kiss his hand inched down my torso and rested on my waist where he clutched onto my dress and spun us around so I was directly under the incredible water pressure of the shower head. I could feel my makeup running down my face as the water engulfed me, his lips morphing to mine. Towering over me, my head tilted back, he kissed me deeper than he had ever before and for a moment I thought we might be stuck like this and if we were to be, I would thoroughly enjoy it forever.
When he pulled away, breathless and shivering he looked at me and grinned. “You still manage to look incredible, soaking wet.”
I smiled back. My eyes were drawn downward, his cock fully erect. I bit into my lower lip to keep myself stable but the thoughts running through my head were that of a very bad girl.
When I looked back up at his face his eyebrow was lifted, his signature cocky grin plastered on his face.
“Am I just a piece of meat to you?” He teased.
I satirized him back with a shrug to which he nudged my arm. “I do enjoy your meat.”
He made a face at my retort and laughed. “You are truly something else.” He looked down at me, my dress clinging to every curve of my body. “How are we going to get this off of you?” He gave my body the same look I gave his.
“Am I just a piece of meat to you?”
He looked up, light in his eyes and shook his head ‘no’. “You are a delicious piece of custard pie.”
“Custard pie?” I poked fun.
His teeth were deep in his lower lip as he nodded, a very distinct fog of lust hanging in the air, thick and palpable. “I want you.”
“Well, I knew that the moment I met you.”
“Cocky, are we?” He raised his eyebrows.
“You didn’t hide it well.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“Are you going to have me?”
He nodded his head, his eyes darker than normal.
I grinned mischievously. I moved my hands to the zipper on the back of my dress and slowly unzipped it then untied the straps around my neck. He watched impatiently, his teeth dragging across his lower lip. I leisurely pulled the dress over my breasts, down my torso, hips, until it fell to the bottom of the tub with a loud wet thud. I stretched my arms over my head, feigning a yawn. “I’m tired, I think I’ll go to bed.” I opened the curtain and as I stepped out of the tub he reached for my wrist.
I turned to him and watched as he shook his head back and forth. “No, you’re not.” He pressed his palms to my cheeks and kissed me again. I pulled away as his tongue tried to reenter my mouth.
“Mr. Page, you are being very inappropriate.” I teased.
He shook his head at me, grinning as he did so. “Are we playing a game?” He was excited by the prospect.
“I have no time for you and your games.” I feigned disinterest.
He let go of my wrist, his grin Cheshire-like as he watched me walk out of the bathroom, water trailing behind me. I took a robe from the back of the door and covered myself, listening as he turned off the water and dried himself off.
@tangerine-page @within60s @jimjcm @rocknrollsoul76 @zeptrashahoy @taurusgrl444 @melancholi-e @floatinginthedunes @tessthemess45 @itachiuyeehaw @royalblueviper @fleetwoodgroove @rick-sauvage @magicaldestinytrash @kashmir-baby @70sdeakster @ritacaroline @evhelynn @liviacarol88-blog @electra-phoebe @zralokxwell @deafshepherd @rogertaylorseyelashes @jimmypage7 @discobeezy @mictic @idekatthispoint03 @pleasantcreatorbanditvoid @jimmypages @lady-jane-revisited @missdaisypage @salixfragilis
#Jimmy Page#led zeppelin#jimmy page fanfiction#led zeppelin fanfic#led zeppelin fanfiction#john bonham fanfiction#jimmy page fanfic#robert plant
56 notes
·
View notes