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moonstrider9904 · 6 months ago

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Show Me

Part 1 of the Urban Flora mini series

Part 2 | Part 3 | Cross-posted to AO3 | Series Masterlist

Summary: At the opera, you meet a mysterious, debonair man who strikes your fancy. Will you risk your reputation to spend some time with him?

Tags: Smut (18+ only), flirting, alcohol consumption, clit play, vaginal fingering, some profanity

Word count: 4.2k

Playlist: Show Me by Alina Baraz

You clenched every muscle in your body to keep from flinching at the abnormally high frequency that made your eardrums thunder. The singer on the stage of the opera theater was undoubtedly talented, and you wouldn’t be the one to question or criticize her performance—that didn’t make the physical impact of her highest note, signaling the number’s musical climax, any duller. And for a moment you thought, so what if you did flinch? Would anybody really notice if you did that?

There were a couple of reasons as to that in your favor. For one thing, you were the senator’s daughter, not the senator herself. If anyone’s pair of eyes went to the box from where you were sitting next to your mother in that theater, they would be looking at your mother, not at you. For another thing, the opera singer, with her powerful performance, held everyone’s attention.

Regardless, the power of the singer’s voice decreased before you could even make up your mind, and applause roared throughout the entire theater. You clapped your gloved hands, smiling softly as the curtain fell on the stage and the lights lit themselves halfway along the theater, signaling an intermission. Beside you, your mother sighed, pleased at the performance, and she reached for her glass of bubbly. You knew your mother opted to remain in the box through the intermissions, often chatting with her maid or the bodyguards, but that wasn’t the case for you. You’d use the intermissions to stretch your legs and drench yourself in the habitat of the opera house, always finding something or someone to catch your attention. The countless stories you’d overheard were revolting, each holding a golden little piece of gossip that would ruin their subjects if they ever got out, and when you mixed them with the exquisite food and drink you could find in the opulent setting, you’d get a recipe for a luxuriously good time.

You’d learned to love the setting. If your mother’s job meant you could have that, you wouldn’t be opposed to it.

Your mother already knew of your habit to go take a walk during intermissions, and by that point, she only had to acknowledge you with a nod before you went off on your own. It was the case that night as well, and you stood up from your chair to make your way out into the halls and walked headed straight for the common room. You made a quick stop at the nearest powder room to make sure your hair and makeup were still in place, and you took your place in front of the full-body mirror and turned on the spot to evaluate your burgundy gown, also making sure it had no problems. Much to your pleasure, it looked flawless on your body, it’s A-line trim favoring your silhouette and flattering you from head to toe, and the lacy outer level gave the gown an extra touch of elegance and regality fit for the place you were in, fit for the daughter of the senator of Coruscant.

After being sure everything was perfectly in place, you finally made your way to your favorite place in the opera house. You undoubtedly turned heads, but that wasn’t why you were there at the moment. You headed straight for the bar and took your usual spot at the left corner, right next to a short, warm-light lamp that illuminated the left side of your body and added a fine gleam to your silhouette when paired with the overhead warm lighting of the common room. You asked the bartender for your usual: they called it an Urban Flora Tonic, containing a balanced blend of gin, grapefruit juice and other citrus extracts, making the drink take a dull blood-orange hue, with a large, thin slice of cucumber rolled up to resemble a rose crowning the drink, resting on top of the thick layer of ice cubes. The glass was large and round, and you had to wrap your entire hand around it to pick it up. As you did, your back turned on the bar and you were facing the rest of the room as you remained seated upon your spot, and you took in the whole sight.

You knew there was juicy gossip coming from at least three points in the room. Homing in on the different conversations wasn’t beyond your abilities, but much to your surprise, you were finding yourself getting distracted. It began the first moment you noticed from the opposite side of the common room there was a pair of observative eyes watching you, unblinking. Their owner was sitting back on a large couch, alone; he was dressed entirely in black save for the thin, opaque cape draped over his left shoulder with a gray brooch securing it. He had gray hair and warm toned skin that complemented the light of the room, and one leg crossed over the other. The lower half of his face was covered by the large glass of a golden beverage—you assumed it could either be whisky or bourbon—but soon enough, he lowered the glass to reveal thin lips and a slim jaw, slightly darkened by a coarse-looking stubble, and your heart fluttered in your chest at the sheer perfection with which his features were all aligned in one attractive face, and then, your focus honed in on the tattoo that outlined his right eye.

He was handsome, no doubt, and in your position, that could be dangerous.

Despite that danger, you smiled at the man, your features drenched with intrigue and allure. You were pleased when you saw him smirk back at you just before lifting his glass one more time to take a large sip. When he did, your smile widened just slightly and then you turned around to face the bar again, angling your body just so your back would arch and your behind would be emphasized by your dress—you knew exactly what you were doing. Daintily, you took a sip from your Urban Flora tonic, and you waited. You took in the sounds and the scents, the flavor of your cocktail, until at last, you felt a presence beside you.

“What’s that you’re drinking, darlin’?”

You angled your body towards your right now, facing the mysterious, attractive man, and you flirtatiously smiled at his voice, velvety and deep and even more enticing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You purred in return.

“It looks colorful,” the man mused. “Aren’t you worried that drink might be a little too hard for such a petite girl?”

He reached his hand out and tapped your chin with his knuckle. In response, you slowly turned your head away from his touch as your shoulders moved closer to your chin, and you smiled.

“Oh, sir,” you said. “Now I know for sure you’re not from around here, otherwise you’d know that a gesture like that would turn us into the subject on everyone’s mouths for the rest of the night.”

“My sincerest apologies,” the man crooned as the hand that had touched your chin went to his chest. He took a seat in the stool next to you, his amber eyes drilling deep into yours.

“Let me guess,” you raised a brow. “New money.”

He chuckled low in his chest, his lips curving into a smirk, and he took another sip from his drink before answering. “No, though I’d like that. Not having to work another day of my life sounds enticing, especially in my line of work.”

You tilted your head for a moment, confused. “Though, I must say, you do look strikingly familiar.”

The man chuckled again. “I have the face of around two million men, though you’ll agree with me, I’m at least twice as handsome as the average.”

You focused on his features and put his words together with what you were reasoning, and you gasped softly when the realization poured itself upon you.

“You’re a soldier,” you stated.

“And you’re smart too,” the man purred at you. “I do love a pretty girl who packs a brain.”

You couldn’t help the obscenely flirty giggle that escaped you as you felt heat rushing to your cheeks. You then turned to him again and now you crossed one of your legs over the other underneath your skirt, inching your body closer to him, drawn in by this man’s magnetism.

“And may I ask,” you began, “what’s a clone trooper, a soldier of the Republic, doing around these parts of Coruscant? Not to be rude, of course, it’s just… not where I would expect to find one of you.”

Otherwise, you’d be there more often.

“I recently saved the Supreme Chancellor’s life,” he uttered nonchalantly, seemingly giving a larger priority to his beverage than any accolades that could come his way.

But your eyebrows raised as you remembered your mother telling you about that, and the coverage that was given to that on the news. “That was you?”

“In the flesh, darlin’,” he said as he finished downing his drink. He set the glass on the bar and reached near him to grab an olive on a toothpick, and after he’d eaten the olive, he let the toothpick rest between his lips as he looked your way again. He had to admit, he liked the way you were looking at him, starry-eyed and innocent, astonished, perhaps a bit seduced by the fact that he was a soldier.

“Well,” you said, swirling your drink in your hand, eyes unwaveringly on him. “Thank you for your service.”

The man chuckled. “Oh, it’s nothing. All I did was shoot down an assassin from a penthouse five klicks away, timing my blast perfectly so it wouldn’t hit any of the ships transiting through the city. I won’t give a lady such gruesome details, but it did the job.”

You felt a clenching between your legs that was slowly becoming desperate, and your eyes seemed to glow as you listened to him.

“Wow,” you sighed. “That’s amazing…”

He removed the toothpick from between his lips and cast it inside of his empty glass, and when he looked at you again, he was pleased by the fact that you were much closer to him than before.

“And…” your voice had lowered to just above the whisper thanks to the proximity. “What name do you go by?”

He leaned in slightly closer as well, smirking. “You’re looking at it.”

You scanned his features and your gaze settled on the finely traced tattoo over his right eye, and you smirked back at him as you locked eyes with him, grinning seductively.

“Crosshair?” You guessed.

He hummed in satisfaction, his lips now hovering dangerously close to yours. “Good girl, so smart.”

You considered throwing reason out the window and letting the space between your lips close—being the subject of gossip would be worth it for a man as painfully sexy as him. But you were stopped by the bells chiming on the speakers of the opera house, alerting the first call for the continuation of the performance.

Crud. You had forgotten where you were for a moment.

“I assume you have someplace to be?” Crosshair crooned.

You pouted at him. “Yes. Though… I’d love to stay and get acquainted.”

“And would anyone notice your absence?” He asked.

“Yes,” uttered. “And if anyone found out I was with a soldier, it would be ballistic. I’d need to come up with a damn good excuse.”

“Well…” Crosshair smirked. “Having saved the Chancellor’s life comes with some privileges for the night, including my very own box for the night. And, as you may well know, every box…”

“Comes with its own room behind it,” you finished for him.

“A room where we could definitely get acquainted,” he offered. “Would you like to check it out?”

You didn’t have to think about it. It sounded far better than finishing the opera you’d already watched at least twice before, and when your decision was made, you smiled.

“Show me and I’m all yours. Let me just send a comm,” you said, and you quickly brought out your comm device to tell your mother you’d be a little late—those darn acoustics had given you a headache, and your cocktail prevented you from taking conventional medication. When you were done, you put it back in your purse, and you stood up to link your arm in Crosshair’s, and he led the way.

The walk towards his box was a blur, and soon you were inside a room that was nearly identical to the one behind you and your mother’s box except for the presence who occupied it. Crosshair closed the door behind him and watched as your gaze observed the details of the room, from the lamps to the curtain that concealed you and him from the rest of the theater. When your gaze finally fell on him, you walked closer to him only to take a seat on the elegant couch beside you, with your back straight and your legs pressed together, your hands resting on your thighs. Crosshair felt allured by the ladylike posture you’d adopted, and he went to sit next to you, his tall frame hovering over you as he reached his hand out once more for his knuckle to gently brush your chin.

“Can I do this here?” He asked.

You giggled softly. “Yes.”

His hand slowly slid past your jaw and found rest at the nape of your neck, where his fingertips could gently brush with loose strands of your hair. “You’ll have to be very quiet.”

“Mm,” you hummed. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

Crosshair inhaled sharply through closed teeth in an attempt to suppress a growl, and you melted at the sight of his half-lidded eyes and his slightly bared teeth, a devastatingly seductive expression for such a strikingly handsome face. You were ready for him to take you and show you his skillset, and by the stars, he was ready to dive in. After an excruciating wait, Crosshair crashed his lips onto yours, breaking the kiss for a few moments to look you in the eyes again.

“Where are my manners?” He mused. “I don’t know your name yet, darlin’.”

You giggled and leaned in close to his ear, whispering your name. Crosshair moaned faintly at the syllables you pronounced, and he leaned in to resume kissing down your jawline, and he muttered your name once before finally finding your lips again and kissing you with a burning hunger. He pushed his body forward, making you lie on the couch, without breaking the kiss, with his hands running all over your torso and your legs over your skirt.

It was when his hands slipped under your skirt that you had to clench every muscle in your body to keep from moaning. His fingertips sliding up your shins and thighs sent delightful sensations all through your body like electricity coursing through your wires. It was as if Crosshair didn’t need to undress you with his hands. He could do that only with his mind. He could speak to you with no words, telling you how great his desire was with every brush of his tongue with yours and the curious, seductive groans that escaped him as he observed the texture and curves of your legs with his fingertips and kneaded your flesh wherever you were most plump.

Almost unconsciously, you had spread your legs as you lay flat on your back on the couch. You wanted him to have all the access, and Crosshair seemed to purr at you when he noticed. He pressed himself harder onto you and his kissing never ceased, and you sunk into the bliss that came with making out with Crosshair as he slid his hands up and down your legs underneath your skirt, with his fingers inching closer to the very inside of your thighs each time. Still, you knew that was going to have to wait—Crosshair definitely didn’t strike you as the kind of man to rush things for the sake of a quick release, and you loved that.

His lips on yours took you higher with each second that passed. The kiss was warm and passionate and tasted of whisky and citrus, and his tongue danced with yours inside your mouth, granting you sweet and fiery friction that deliciously hinted at that sensation on other parts of your body. You succeeded in keeping your moans at bay, whimpering delicately into Crosshair with each tiny wave of sparks sent down your body, and you could tell how much the sound riled him up when he dug his nails into your thighs or your ass in response. Aching for more, you nibbled gently on Crosshair’s lower lip, basking in the low, grumbling moan he struggled to contain at the sensations you caused when you lightly tugged on his lip with your teeth, and you dove in for another kiss only for him to do the same to you. The fire within you had grown so intense that you had to clutch his silver locks, short as they were, giving them a light tug, and by doing that, you caused Crosshair to buck his hips forward in response, letting you feel the hard erection even through the skirt of your dress.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered between kisses, and finally, Crosshair slid his fingers teasingly around your inner thighs and getting dangerously close to your panties. He wrapped his fingers around the delicate panties that shielded your cunt from his touch, and painfully slowly, he slid them down your smooth legs, shooting a glance into your eyes as he did as a final way to ask for your approval.

You nodded at him as you looked him straight in the eyes, and then you pulled him in for another kiss, ready for him to have his way with you.

Crosshair put your panties aside where they wouldn’t be hard to find afterwards, although the idea of you wandering around with no undergarments beneath that exquisite gown made him want to rip it clean off you. But this was still a place of elegance, and he imagined that gown had taken at least some effort for you to put on, and he wouldn’t disrespect that. He smirked to himself at the thought of him having to please you with that dress still on, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

His fingertips weren’t quite at your folds yet, but Crosshair could feel your wetness leaking around your delicate skin. Crosshair took his long middle and index fingers and brushed your folds from bottom to top a few times as he gazed into your eyes wanting to take in your expression. You appeared dazed as you looked back into his eyes, feeling his touch on your warm, wet cunt, your mind soaring with the thoughts of everything you wanted him to do with you. He kept up his current pattern until he felt a switch was in order, and Crosshair rested his two fingertips on the swollen and exposed bud of your clit, and he began to rub slow, steady circles on it. You bit your lip to keep from moaning at the delicious feeling of his fingers sliding effortlessly over your flesh, coated by your wetness, and you gazed into his eyes until you let your head gracefully fall back on the couch’s armrest for support as you allowed yourself to slip into a state of bliss.

Crosshair smirked at the sight of you, delighted and pleased. The circular motion of his fingers on your clit increased its pace, and he pressed only a tad harder into your flesh, but he managed to elevate your pleasure onto a whole other level by doing that. The sweet sensations boiled low in your core and expanded throughout your entire labia, and you felt your body rising to such a heat that you began to sweat. Your breathing hardened against Crosshair’s lips, kissing him with more force the closer you felt yourself approaching ecstasy, and you felt as though you had to cling to him for support even though you were lying back on a couch. You needed that beautiful release, ached for it, felt it closer and closer each second, until at last, that delicious heat overflowed within you and sent you into a spiral of fiery delight.

Your body squirmed in Crosshair’s grip, and you relied on the feeling of Crosshair’s lips on yours to keep you from screaming at such intense pleasure. Your chest pressed up to him with each wave of your orgasm, and Crosshair watched you, smirking seductively at the sight of you so enticing and beautiful, overwhelmed that pleasure that he gave you. You were able to pick up on things that Crosshair briefly muttered under his breath, tender whispers of “Yes” and “Good girl” that made you see white, until your hips gave a sturdy buck forward in a particularly strong wave of pleasure.

Crosshair removed his fingertips from your clit for a moment to let you catch your breath, and your heart sank at the thought of him being done with you. Any dread within you shattered when you felt his touch on your all too sensitive clit once more, but this time, Crosshair slid his fingertips downward and approached your entranced. He teased the little hole only for a few seconds, enough to draw a sweet, delicious little whimper from you which he chuckled at in the sexiest way you could fathom, and then, Crosshair slid a long and slender finger down your entrance. You sucked air in through your teeth and clawed into the couch in another attempt at discretion, for he was showing you once again how talented he was. Crosshair’s finger moved at the perfect pace and curled at the perfect angle, brushing your sensitive spots like it was second nature.

For a moment, you thought that would be it, and you were already close to another release. That was until you felt Crosshair pull his finger out for the briefest second before coming back in with a fuller, deeper sensation; he’d slid two fingers into you now, enhancing every sensation that you felt. Your eyes widened in admiration at him and nervousness at yourself—if he continued, you weren’t sure how loud you would be or if you would be capable of containing yourself. You lifted your head and looked at Crosshair again, gazing into his striking gaze that appeared gentle as he focused solely on you and your pleasure. You let a hand travel up to cup his cheek, wanting to bring him even closer to you than he already was, and this time around, your orgasm crept up on you slowly, silently, taking over your body with expertise to make you crumble even harder.

Your eyes rolled back, and you no longer made sense of the world around you. You then shut your eyes hard and embraced Crosshair, pressing him strongly onto you, rocking your hips forward and back for even more friction that engulfed you in sparks. All you could make a remote thought of was how much this man amazed you, and how much no man would probably ever live up to his standard. The waves of your pleasure wore on as Crosshair persisted, and you felt yourself on the verge of blacking out, when Crosshair retrieved his hand from you and helped you gently up to sitting on the couch.

It took you a few minutes to recover, which Crosshair noticed, chuckling softly at how endearing you were post lovemaking. He’d gotten up to do something you didn’t quite make sense of, but you did notice when he went and sat next to you, with one hand resting softly at your knee while the other handed you back your panties.

You looked over at him, still dazed, though a bit confused. “What about you?”

Crosshair chuckled. “I’ll survive. We should probably return to where we should be. It might be considered rude if I’m not at the seat I was offered.”

“Oh, right,” you said, with his previous statement finishing the effort of bringing you back to reality. You eyed him again, this time more in the spirit of joking, but only halfway. “Are you sure? I could suck you into oblivion in under five minutes, the opera’s still gonna last longer than that.”

Crosshair laughed again. “Enticing, but no. Go on, darlin’.”

With a smile, you put your panties back on and hesitated before leaving the room, considering for a moment finishing the opera next to him. You’d occupy the seat on the left and take in the performance once more, enjoying the company far more than whatever was going on the stage, sneaking occasional looks at him only to find out he was already looking at you, perhaps reaching for his hand to hold it throughout the remainder of a performance

The implications were astonishingly scandalous, and you’d never hear the end of it. Neither of you would. Besides, for all you knew, what had just happened had only been a fling, regardless of how much you were feeling at the moment.

Your eyes met his piercing gaze for one final time before you ran out of his room, checking the surroundings for any bystanders before you made your way down the opulent halls. Your box was just a couple of stories above Crosshair’s, and it didn’t take you long to arrive. When you did, you held your hand over your head, imitating pain, but you gave her a reassuring smile.

Your mother asked no questions, and she returned your smile briefly before focusing her attention on the soloist down on the stage once more. You looked around at the people watching the performance, most of them focused on the stage, a few of them distracted, and a couple even asleep. You then understood that no one had seen you, and a wave of triumph showered itself over you.

You probably would have liked it better if you knew there was a chance for the night’s events to repeat themselves, but given your position, that would be begging for trouble. The ramifications could be wide, and you told yourself that again and again every single time you felt the longing to return to that man’s embrace.

You would have to make do without him.

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ghostfanwriter · 1 year ago

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🔥✨ Safe with him ✨🔥

Part two to Safe✨🔥

🔥 Pairing: Raider!Joel Miller x afab!Non-innocent Reader.

✨Synopsys: Joel is trying his best to stay away, but you're also doing your best to break him. When one of his men try to hurt you, you understand why his people respect fear him so much. And just how safe you are with him.

🔥 Features: 🔞 content — Attempt of sexual assault (not graphic), violence, murder, teasing, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, riding Joel's face, choking, praise with degradation (my favorite 🌟), creampie (he does it twice), a bit of cockwarming at the end.

✨ Word Count: Over 6k.

🔥 About this: First part of this felt so organic, so natural, it was hard to write something that felt like stood up to it. This part is more packed with smut, with some story in-between. Also, make sure to always read the alt text of the gifs I use, in this one I explained the face I imagine him doing sometimes.

✨ Author's note: It took me forever, but it's finally here. Hope you like it as much as you did the first one. The reception to it was insane, and I can't thank you enough for all the love 💕. Once again likes, reblogs and comments are very, highly appreciated 💖

Good reading ✨🔥

🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨

"Joel, Joel... Joel."

Some days it was the only word you'd say out loud besides 'Yeah, I'm alright. Don't need anything.'

You called, but he seemed to never listen. To never feel you call, to never come back.

You just hoped he would if you actually needed him.

🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨

You thought Stockholm syndrome needed some time to settle in.

But apparently not. From day one, you're into this.

You're into him.

You honestly don't even think about the people back home. How scared and worried they must be for all of you, looking for you and hoping to find you all well one day.

You sometimes think about your people who are here, but The Man always reassures you.

"Told you, doll. They're working. Helping us build, cook, hunt. They're all alive and safe."

Was it true?

Maybe, maybe not.

But you were blocking all of those places in your mind. It was easier if you didn't think.

If you focused on making The Man happy.

If he were happy with you he wouldn't hurt your people, because you cared for them.

Right?

You could only hope. Only trust him somehow.

So you do what you can.

You keep him happy.

You clean, you cook, you wash his clothes. You brush your hair, put on pretty clothes he got you and use some perfume he told his men to find for you on a run for supplies.

You make sure to let him watch you. To finish cooking when you know he's coming home, always when the sun is setting, because you know he likes to see it. Clean — specially low places — when he's around, so you can bend over and give him a glimpse of you underwear.

Those were his favorites: domesticality and profanity.

Playing house with you while enjoying the view, while fantasizing about you.

The problem was...

He never let you touch him again after that night.

He'd look, his eyes always on you, but he wouldn't come close, he wouldn't give in again.

But each night you needed him more, you craved him.

So you used your weapons.

✨🔥′

Today he only left once, first thing in the morning for a couple of minutes, before coming back home and staying for the day. He had lunch with you, talking and laughing as you did, played his guitar on his porch, and watched you while you cleaned his wardrobe.

His favorite hobby.

"I thought you never wore anything under your dresses, baby." He said from his bed as you bent down to clean, giving him a full view of your covered ass.

"You never check." You responded, an edge of disappoinment on your voice.

"Thought I could trust you, sugar. But apparently not, will have to see for myself everyday now." He said, and you stopped cleaning, and, keeping your knees straight, slowly removed your panties, throwing it at him.

He took it with a grunt and slowly started stroking himself, just from looking at you. When he was getting close, he called you.

"Fuck, baby, come here. Don't wanna make a mess for you to clean." He panted, beckoning for you to come over.

You walked to him, seeing that your panties were in his hand, around his cock, wet, covered in his precum.

You kneel in front of him and he grabs the back of your neck, pulling your mouth down on him.

"Just the tip, baby. Just enough for you to take it." You happily do as you're told, sucking his tip for a couple of minutes, while he pumped himself deep and slow, his other hand holding your hair up so he could watch your face, your eyes never leaving his.

His hand was there also to prevent you from taking him in deeper. Which you try to do.

"I said just the tip, baby. Be good for me, don't get greedy on me now."

So you behave. Just the tip, just enough to not let it fall on the floor.

He cums with a grunt, filling your mouth twice before being done, softly pushing you away from him.

"So pretty." He praises as you lick your lips.

Panting, he looks at you and hands you your panties. "I think you should keep it, you'll make better use of it." You say with a smirk as you get up.

"There you're right, angel. This only knows how to stay on my way. But put it back on, there's men around the house today, don't want them seeing what's not theirs."

You lift your right foot, mentioning for him to put it on you. He smiles and passes it through both your legs, caressing and squeezing your thighs as he went up.

His face, close to your pussy, watching it as his thumbs lightly part the front of your folds. He grunts and shakes his head once with a sigh and a smile, pulling your panties all the way up and kissing your clothed mount before adjusting your dress and lightly slapping your ass. "C'mon, finish what you were doing."

You do so, finishing his wardrobe and turning back at him, finding him sitting on the edge of his bed, looking out the window.

"Can you tell me your name?" You ask and he looks at you, without turning his head, just his eyes. "Why do you need to know?"

"I'd be good to put a name to my moans, so you know it's you I'm thinking about." You say with a sweet smile, and now he turns to look at you, shaking his head, smiling and grunting the same way he did while looking at your pussy. "You're the price I pay, angel. Now I get it. You're making me pay for all the things I've done in this life, making my life so fucking hard."

"You know, you could just do it. I don't understand why you think it'd be so bad." He scoffs. "I told you. Don't want your daddy, or your mommy, or your boyfriend to come over later and try to bother my people. We have women... pregnant women. And children. Don't need that right now."

The fact that he is being so true to his word, that he's really not doing anything to not harm his people, so you could go back home one day, just makes you want him even more.

How he never tried anything, how even when he was getting hard from watching you cook, you wouldn't feel bad like you felt when his men look through the window.

You liked how he looked at you. It felt different.

It all makes you wanna keep pushing him.

"You kidnapped me. Us. You think my people aren't looking for us already?" You ask.

"But I'm letting you go. Told you, if I have you, I won't want anyone else to. Will keep you here, with me. Mine." He said, a hint of pain in his voice, and you notice a volume returning to his pants, your own core burning with his words.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I don't have a mommy, or a boyfriend... Or a daddy to come after your people." You say, touching his shoulder and internally moaning — at least this one you managed to hold back — at how he stiffens under your touch.

"I just want to make you feel good." You say, that low and aroused voice back on your lips. "Want you to make me feel good too." You whisper, now running your fingers through his hair, and he closes his eyes, indulging in the gesture.

You caress his hair for a few seconds, and he hums, moving his head onto your hand for you to reach new places.

"Joel." He says with his eyes still closed. "The name you should call is Joel." You run your fingers over his hair one more time, pulling it away from his face and kissing his lips softly, holding his head from both sides.

He doesn't pull away, allowing you to touch his lips for the first time.

"The man I'll call is Joel. And I hope you listen. Hope you come when I call you. When I need you." You whisper over his lips, his eyes opening to look at you.

You let him go and walk away, his eyes following you.

✨🔥'

"Joel."

Joel was not soft.

That he wasn't.

But a pretty girl is any man's perdition.

And when your voice calling him sounded so sweet, so nice, so needy, he couldn't not come to you.

"Sounds like a fucking angel, baby." He said, standing by the door, that you convenently left open for him. You whimper when you see him, your eyes dropping to his pants.

"Don't get any ideas, though. I'm just here to watch. C'mon, take this off you." He said, walking towards you and removing the blanket you covered yourself with — knowing he'd come and remove it. Your knees are bent, so you palm yourself, closing your legs and looking into his eyes.

He sits by your feet. "Open them, baby. We both know you're not shy." But you don't, just looking into his eyes, smiling and biting your lower lip, and he laughs.

You want him to touch you.

"I see. Won't work, though." He spreads your legs, then pulls your hand away. You lift your hips, trying to brush on his hand, and he grunts, seeing you all wet and swollen, pushing your hips back down.

Knowing it's all for him, right in front of him, makes him almost fall mouth first on you, makes him want to taste you and make you cum for him.

But he knows he can't.

"It's because of you." You moan, and he shoots you a stern and scary look, his eyebrows low and his eyes dark. "For you." He swallows, sitting further from you onto your bed and opening his belt.

You mention to go to him, but he shoots you that look again.

The look that simultaneity makes you want to behave and misbehave. To be good for him so he'll praise you, and to be bad to see what he's gonna do about it.

But you know that, slowly, you're gaining him. So you sit back down and spread your legs.

"Good girl."

He pulls himself out of his boxers, already hard and wet. You lick your lips and return your circles around your clit, inserting one, then two fingers inside yourself.

He grunts and groans softly as his own movements become more desperate. His eyes never leaving your pussy.

You're dripping onto the sheets. There's a puddle forming underneath you, and he can't take his mind out of how good you must feel. How nice and tight, warm and wet you have to be.

He moans once and you retribute the sound. You fasten your circles, being as deep on him as he is on you. Thinking about how nice and painful it'd be to take him in, how thick and big he is. How much you crave to feel him twitch and pulse inside you. How rough he'd be with you, how he'd care for you after it.

That's the thing with him. You know how rough he can be, but you've also seen his softer side. You want him to heartlessly pound you, be mean to you, make you cum until you're dumb, whisper things in your ears, call you names.

And then call you his angel, tell you how good you were for him while he caress your hair until you fall asleep on his chest.

The thought makes you cum, a loud and shameless "Joel" leaving your lips, then being the only word you can put out. Calling and crying out for him, needing him.

He touches your thigh, making you look at him. Your eyes hazed, showing him how far you were, how high he took you before even touching you.

"I'm here, baby. Come here to me." He coos, and you craw until him, lowering yourself in front of his dick, his hand coming for your hair, helping it up.

He doesn't say anything about how deep you can go, so you start sucking just his tip, careful and tight, feeling his precum drip and leak into your mouth. He thrusts into your mouth and you take him in further with a moan, going as deep as you can, opening your throat to make room for him.

He grunts and you can already feel him pulsing on your tongue. "So fucking good, baby. Gonna cum in this mouth."

You moan as you taste him flood your mouth, drinking it like you haven't seen water in weeks.

You keep sucking him after he's finished, and he lets you, caressing your hair and moaning as you do so.

"You know this could end up really bad for your people, don't you, baby?" He asks, stroking your hair as you run your tongue up his length.

"I know, Joel. But I think I want to see it. Watch you keep me with you." You say right before licking around his tip like a lollipop and taking him in your mouth again. He furrows his brows, piercing his lips together.

"You have no idea what you're saying, sugar. Not something you'd like to see." He says, pulling himself out of your mouth and fixing his pants before getting up.

He gives you a light and sweet peck on the lips, grabs a towel on your bathroom and comes back to you. He opens your legs, cleaning you. "I would love to see it, Joel. Not to my people. But I'd love to see what you'd do."

You say as he kisses your forehead and walks outside your room, never turning around to look at you.

✨🔥'

Joel was not soft.

That he wasn't.

So when he spent his days thinking about you — not only wanting to come home to see you, but actually started to think about you, to wanna come home to see you — he knew he had to go away.

Your people were of great help for his people, so it still wasn't the time to let you go, but he needed distance.

So he called some of his men on a few days long run for supplies and food.

He left men watching his house. "I want one of you by this fucking door every second I'm not here. She tells me anything happened to her, anyone, any of you, fucking looked through the window and I'm killing every single one of you." You heard him tell the men.

Then he came to you, holding you on a loose embrace, removing the hair from your face. "You need anything and they get it for you, okay? Anything. Just ask. Keep the curtains closed and don't give them any smiles or looks. These men are animals, they don't know how to behave close to a pretty girl like you."

And with that he left.

For days.

Days where you called him, desperately, breathy, over and over again. Your bedroom walls tired of the name, tired of your whimpers, your moans, your cries.

"Joel, Joel... Joel."

Some days it was the only word you'd say out loud besides 'Yeah, I'm alright. Don't need anything.'

You called, but he seemed to never listen. To never feel you call, to never come back.

You just hoped he would if you actually needed him.

✨🔥'

"Joel!"

His name, always so passionate and sweet on your lips, was now a desperate cry for help. A prayer, a beg.

His men never dared to try anything with you. They'd knock on the door and you'd answer without opening it, saying you were alright and didn't need anything. But not today. Not this one.

You screamed his name as one of his men, the biggest one that he left to keep watch on you, pinned you down on your dinner table, your hands behind your back and your face painfully pressing on the wood.

"Keep screaming, bitch. He won't fucking hear you. And no one's gonna come to help you. No one's gonna fucking dare walking inside his house." He says with a laugh. "The more you scream the longer this will last."

You keep screaming, calling for help and calling for him.

Then the man let's you go, a heavy thud following.

You turn around, finding Joel. His eyebrows low and nostrils wide, his lips pierced and his hair disheveled. He's holding a thick piece of wood.

He looks at you and his eyes soften instantly, coming towards you to cup your face. "Did he hurt you?" He asked, his eyes attentively watching your face for any bruises or scratches.

"No, no he didn't. He just walked in, I... I asked him for some things and when I opened the door he— I should've waited for him to walk away before opening the door, I'm so sorry, Joel. I'm so sorry, you told me to not do it." You cried, burying your face on his chest and blaming yourself for giving the man the opportunity to invade his house.

"Don't, hey. Don't fucking say that. You could've smiled at this piece of shit, talked to him. He shouldn't have tried anything. Shouldn't fucking hurt you like this. It's not how I fucking work around here." He says, his voice and expression darkening at the end, when he hears the man grunt under him.

He carefully lets go of you, turning to the man and grabbing him by the colar of his shirt.

None of the tenderness with which he held you left on him.

"Stay away from the windows." He tells you sternly while dragging the man on the floor.

The man's twice his size. But still he pulls him out of his house like he's nothing. Anger boiling inside him, making him straddle the man on the floor, punching his face once, twice.

Again and again.

The man is screaming, pushing him, begging him to stop, trying to get way.

But he's not himself. He is an animal, he is consumed by his darker self.

The man drags himself around on the floor and he holds him in place, punching him.

His backpack and rifle still on his back.

He could just shoot the man, but that wouldn't make it.

He had to do it. With his bare hands. He wanted to feel it, to take his life away from him.

"You like screaming, don't you, son of a bitch? Wanted to hear screams? Then fucking scream!" He shouted louder than the man, the people around him just watching.

The man's body goes limp, blood pools around them and runs on the floor, but he keeps going, until there's not a man under him anymore.

Until there's not a face, not anything but a puddle of meat, bones and blood.

He gets up, his face like you've never seen before, his eyes wide, fully black, eyebrows low, nostrils widening as he breath, his mouth open and his teeth clenched. His hand hurt, blood from the man and from himself dripping from it.

"This is not how I fucking work!" He shouts, turning around to look at everyone. "And you don't fucking fuck with what's mine!" His voice coming out as a snarl. Like a feral dog, spit flying from his mouth.

Now you see it. Now you understand.

That's why his people are so lawful.

Not only because he's brutal.

But because he's brutal to protect.

The ones that don't respect or trust him, fear him. They know what he's capable of.

He killed a man twice his size with his bare hands to keep you safe.

He killed a man he probably trusted, considering he trusted you to him. All to keep you safe.

And you loved it.

You loved it and part of you wants to see it again. To see him act so brainless, to kill a man like it's nothing. All to keep you safe.

To hear him call you his.

He sees you through the window and worry invades his face, making him rush back inside. His heavy and loud footsteps sending chills down your spine.

He finds you by the window and stops on his feet. Your eyes are wide and scared, your chest raising and falling with force.

"I told you not to look out the window." He says.

This.

This is what he never wanted.

He never wanted you to see this part of him. The part he knew would push you away, would make you never want to see him again.

Would make you afraid of him.

He holds his hand up in front of him, letting go of his backpack and rifle. "I'm sorry. None of this should've happened. I shouldn't have left you here alone, with these men. This was why I kept you here, with me, so they wouldn't hurt you." He says. "I'm sorry you had to see it, I couldn't let him go any other way."

This.

This is what you wanted to see. Him feral, protective, caring for you.

Keeping you safe.

You run to his arms, climbing on him. Your lips looking for and crashing against his.

It takes him a second, but when he realizes what's happening, he groans and wraps his arms around you, holding you tight and close to him. Like he's afraid you'd snap out of it and push him away.

You lick between his lips, right where they meet, and he grunts, opening his mouth for you, taking your tongue in his and letting you explore his mouth before pushing his tongue inside your mouth and rolling it around yours. His beard scraping your cheeks, making you moan and press yourself further onto him.

Wanting to finally feel all of him.

Your arms are tugging and squeezing around his torso and his arms, sometimes pulling on his hair and earning grunts from him. His arms are pressing you against him, his heart beating against your chest. He squeezes your waist and your hips, firmly holding the back of your neck and your cheeks.

Your hands not satisfied with touching just one place at once. All the desire and hunger emerging to your surfaces.

You stay tangled like that for what feels like hours before he pulls away, out of breath, staring at you.

"I loved watching. You were so... Brutal. I loved it." You say as his eyes roam around your face.

"You don't have to do this." He whispers, giving you a final chance to step away and not regret this later. "I want this, Joel. It's all I think about. You. Called you everyday, every night, since you left. Couldn't finish sometimes without you with me. And when I did it was for you, all thinking about you." You say, snuggling your face on his neck, pressing your nose against his vein.

"I need you, Joel. Please."

He's gone.

He did his best to avoid it, to please himself with you without actually touching you. But he can't deny what he craves since he first saw you.

"You beg so nice, baby. Should make you do it more often." He says right on your ear, making you shiver and moan softly. Turning into a puddle under him.

He bites your neck, sucking and licking, your perfume guiding him, making him want to crawl under your skin, to merge his body with yours.

You're drowning on him, dazed and high, indulging on the way he holds you, grunts against your skin and how open your whole body is for him.

But when you're starting to fully get lost...

He pulls away.

"My room. C'mon." He pants, turning and pushing you towards the stairs. You giggle and run upstairs, him laughing and following close to you, his long steps enough to not let you get too far.

When you reach his bedroom, he grabs the back of your shirt, turning you around and taking you in his arms, his mouth all over your jaw, neck and collarbones. "Please, Joel. I need more of you."

"Always so impatient, baby." He says before pulling your shirt out of you and skillfully unclasping your bra. He stares at your boobs for a second, his mouth hanging open while he breaths heavily. He grabs them, kneading them and grunting. He squeezes them a bit too hard and you whimper.

He groans and takes you back in his arms, still squeezing your boobs and kissing you again.

He tastes like cheap alcohol and cigars, and you drink every drop of him like he's the thing you needed all along.

You could live off of just him. Just looking at him, just smelling him, just eating and drinking from him.

Your hand goes to his belt, but he pushes it away. "I ain't tasted you yet, baby. Not fair that you get it again." He says, pushing you on his bed.

You fall and start removing your skirt. He helps you and falls down to his knees, kissing a path from your bellybutton to your lips. "Can't wait to taste you baby. Know you taste so good for me." He whispers while kissing your throat before kissing his way back down, stopping only at your nipples to suck and roll his tongue around them.

He stops when he reaches your mount, going to your inner thighs, his hands keeping you spread, squeezing the skin of your thighs. "Always on my fucking way." He growls at your panties, roughly pulling them out of you.

Then he gets paralyzed. His gaze never leaving your pussy, his mouth open, his jaws moving from side to side.

"Joel, please." You beg and he hums against your skin. "Right here, baby. Won't go anywhere." He says right before licking a — painfully slow and strong — streak up your folds. From your entrance to where they connect at he top.

"As good as I dreamed." He licks you again, returning to your entrance and inserting his tongue on you, rolling it around inside you, making you sink yourself down on his face. "Even better, actually." He sucks on your clit, humming against your skin as you pull his hair.

"Want you to do it, baby." He says pulling away and grabbing your arms, sitting you up. He lays with his head on his pillow and beckons for you to come over, which you do, going for his belt again.

"No, baby. C'mon, up here." He says with a smile, and you move up higher, straddling his chest. "You know I could kill you like this, don't you?" You say, going higher and hovering above his face.

"Sweetest death a man could have in a world like this, angel." He breathes before pulling you down on him, practically french kissing your pussy, his tongue rolling around your entrance and your clit, going inside you and rolling around. Sucking, licking and even biting everything he could reach, his hands squeezing your ass, your hips and your thighs.

You pull his hair and roll your hips, sinking yourself, his eyes snap open to watch you as you moan and whimper, your whole body shaking as you feel your insides burn, ready to release what you craved to give him for so long.

"Joel." You moan, feeling yourself get closer and closer, and he groans as you grind yourself harder on him, swiping his nose and only pulling away to let him breath. But he quickly pulls you back down, sinking you on his tongue.

The closer you get to your orgasm, the further you go from reality. The deeper you dive on the man underneath you.

Hunger and desire marking the route of his tongue all over you, finding all your favorite spots.

He holds you down as he sucks on your clit, your hips rolling circles on his chin, his beard scratching your entrance, making you pull away.

He groans and sinks you back down, his hands squeezing your hips and keeping you steady as you cum, your insides convulsing around nothing, his eyes open, focused on your face as it contorts and your body tries to stay up.

He grunts as he dries you, sucking every drop out of you as your body twitches at how sensitive it feels.

He lets go of your hips and you collapse back on top of him, laying on top of his belly, breathing, your body going up and down as his own breath moves his chest up and down.

You feel high, like you're on a boat, his breath like the tide. You move up and down, slow and deep, swimming on him, in awe of the fact that this is actually happening.

You're actually with him.

He inserts a finger inside you and you feel his dick twitch inside his pants, against the back of your head.

"So fucking tight, baby. Gonna feel so good."

You try to flip around, wanting to taste him again, but he holds you by the knees and goes on top of you, kissing you again as you eagerly undo his belt and remove his pants.

He finishes them off and climbs back on top of you. You grab him and stroke him deep and slow, getting lost on how hard and thick he feels on your hands, whimpering just to imagine the stretch he'd need to go inside you.

"Think you're ready, baby? Waited for this for so fucking long." He says with his mouth glued to your throat, kissing and nibbing at your skin. "Please, Joel." You moan, fastening your movements on him.

He grunts, thrusting into your hand for a while, groaning as your other hand pulls on his hair.

He removes your hand from his length and guides it to your folds, running his tip through them a few times to gather some of your slick — and tease you.

"So nice, so wet for me. All for me." He pants before teasing your entrance with his tip, rolling it around it and thrusting it in slowly, your insides engulfing him. "So — grunts — fucking tight too." He smiles on your neck, and you lower yourself, trying to get more of him in.

"Joel, please." You cry, and he raises himself to looks at you. "Please what, baby? You keep saying it but you don't use your words."

"Fuck me, please. I need you inside me." You say with a smile, your voice a mix of arousal and almost pain. "Good." He smiles, kissing you, rolling his tongue around yours and pushing in, your legs spreading further apart in an attempt to make more room for him.

The air inside your lunges freezes, and you can't exhale while he's moving.

He goes all the way in, grunting at how good you feel around him. How warm, tight and wet you feel. How your arms held him tight on top of you, how your nails dug into his skin. Things he hadn't felt in forever.

Things he knew only you could give him.

Things he wanted only you to do.

"Doing so well, baby. Opening up for me like this." He praises when he bottoms out, giving you some time to adjust as you twitch and pulse around him.

You move your hips, and he corresponds the movement, slowly thrusting out before going all the way back in, setting a deliciously passionate pace. Slow and deep, making your insides move and readjuste to receive him.

You whimper when he supports himself on his hands, missing his weight on top of you. He starts moving faster, harder, even deeper somehow.

His eyes fixated on your breasts, on how they move with the force of his thrusts. "You like them?" You ask, keeping your voice sweet and low, and he looks at you through his lashes, his low eyebrows and his smile making his expression almost sinister.

It makes you go back to when he was on top of that man. To remember how feral he was, how violent and visceral he was. How much you want him to use that on you, to fuck you with as much voracity as he killed the man.

Thinking about it makes your pussy clench around him. Makes your eyes falter and your heart to pound faster against your ribs.

You wrap your arms around his neck, lifting yourself and holding onto him, his strong arms keeping both of you away from the mattress. You bite his neck, his pulsing vein too welcoming to deny.

"I loved watching, Joel. How you did it, how you did it with your hands. I fucking loved it." He grunts, his own orgasm feeling just a thrust away. "Being inside you makes me want to go back there and fucking kill him again, baby. You feel so good, he'd have hurt you and I don't know what I'd do if I let that happen."

You moan, his thrusts getting harder and sloppier. "But you did, Joel. You kept me safe, like you said you would. I loved it." You say between moans, the burn on your core about to snap. You reach for your clit and draw fast circles around it, almost immediately cumming around him, squeezing and almost expelling him out of you.

He grunts, your pussy milking him, making his orgasm hit him hard, probably harder than ever.

He fucks his cum inside you, rough and deep, as you fall back on the mattress and become a puddle underneath him. He holds your knees up, going even deeper and making you scream his name, the tip of his dick hitting that perfect spot inside you, making your eyes close shut and your mouth hang open.

His pace is anything but tender now. He's fully lost on how good you feel, how much he thought about you, how good it feels to finally give in, to finally be inside you, to finally claim you as his.

Another orgasm crashes over you, his name falling from your lips in a way that shows he's the first one to make you feel this, to make you feel this much. In a way that shows that he's the only one you'll ever think about, the only one you'll ever need and crave after this.

When you manage to open your eyes, you find his stare on you. His nostrils wide, his eyes dark and passionate, his teeth clenched and his neck looking like it would burst.

"Joel." You cry. "Right here, baby. Looking so pretty all dumb like this for me, just saying my name, calling me like I'm ever gonna leave your — grunts — fucking side again." He says, your belly fluttering with his words.

He flips you both around, laying on his back and holding you on top of him, your body doing it's best to not collapse over him.

"C'mon, ride it, baby. Want to see you." His words fuelling your muscles, making you roll your hips around him, gathering the conscience to move up and down.

You support yourself on his shoulders, his muscles flexing as you squeeze them. You moan when he pulls you down into a kiss, one of his hands on your hips and the other going from the back of your neck to your clit, drawing overwhelming circles around you.

"Joel, I can't." You cry out when your clit throbs on his fingers. "Course you can, angel. Do it for me, c'mon, give me another one." He asks, and you focus on him, on his muscles, his face, the way he fills you, the way his rough fingers work you, the way his hands is hurt from what he did, the way he brutally punched the man, the way he yelled, called you his.

You feel your orgasm approaching again, and your body starts to give in. But as soon as it hits you and your body softens, one of his hands leaves your hips and come for your throat, squeezing tight. Your eyes snap open, your hands holding onto his forearm.

"Joel." You whine.

"Just holding you up, baby. Just keeping you steady." He says with a smirk, your insides convulsing around him, trying to hold onto him, as if to never let him go.

It hugs him so nice, so deep and so tight, he can't help but allow his own new orgasm to hit him. He maintains his hand around your throat, but his body jerks up, and he pulls you down enough to kiss you.

He grunts as his tongue rolls around yours, his lips sucking yours, his beard burning your face.

A burn you already love.

His thrusts get rougher, deeper and faster as he empties himself inside you again, grunts and groans leaving his throat as you feel him twitch inside you.

He lets go of your neck and you fall on top of him, breathing and praying that this isn't just one of the dreams you've had with him. Praying that he's here, underneath you, still inside you, holding you around his arms, his warmth comforting your exhausted body.

You snuggle your nose on his collarbones, right on the middle of his pecks, and he strokes your hair.

"As bad as you thought?" You ask with a laugh. "Fucking devastating, baby. Don't even want to get out of you." He replies with a smile, and you clench around him, so he knows you're in no hurry to be empty again.

"Mine. My good girl, gonna be all mine. Can't wait to always find you home. Won't ever let you go." You smile, you don't wanna go anywhere.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be, Joel. No one else I'd rather be with." You confess, your head buried on his neck. "No one would keep me safe like you."

"Would do anything to keep you with me, baby. Anything." He says, hugging you tighter.

You hope so.

You're counting on it.

🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨🔥✨

So... Did you like it? Writing the last sex scene was so hard, it always felt like there was something missing to it. But at end I was happy with it.

Let me know what you think, I'd love to hear your feedback 💖

💌

@https-hann 🫶🏻

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal characters #ghostfanwriter #pedro pascal's characters #fanfic #smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of uf hbo fanfiction #pedro pascal

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silverryu25 · 2 months ago

Note

i would love to see sci-fi day 6 star wars with the prompt “Have you forgotten how it all ended last time?” :)

Nonny... I have so little knowledge of Star wars but... this kinda hit a plot bunny so I hope you like! XD

DAY 6 - Star Wars + “Have you forgotten how it all ended last time?”

Tag warnings: implied suicide (briefly and in a "I should have done it" way)

---------------

It was peaceful.

Nothing was happening today. Just like yesterday. And the day before. And before that.

It's been years, though it felt like eons, since anything changed here. No one ever came to this place, not since he got here and made it his home. His aura permeated into the ground and the air, making it inhospitable to anyone and anything.

It was exactly what he wanted.

What he deserved.

What he imposed on himself.

But today... today he felt the emptiness. It slithered into his thoughts, his mind feeling as if it was crawling with his past sins. He could even feel them crawling down his back, making him feel restless. So instead of meditating or just trying to sleep through the fog of negativity that enveloped him, he decided to expend some energy.

The loneliness and emptiness was replaced by rage as he swung his lightsaber.

The flashes of red spread all around him, digging into the piles of old abandoned wreckage of AT-AT walkers, AT-ST transports, cloud cars, AAT's, AAC-1's and many, many more. A graveyard left after many battles. Abandoned to rot and decay, just like he was. Just like he earned through his own stupidity and greed.

Now here he was, adding to that destruction. If he let himself think deeper about his actions he might have realized how symbolic the destruction he was spreading around him was to what he was doing to his own mind and soul. But he didn't. He never did. Thinking would mean acknowledging the guilt that festered in his soul and that would break him because he would have to think about.............

With a roar of rage he swung his lightsaber, splitting the largest piece of wreckage in front of him. He continued swinging until he couldn't anymore. Until all his energy was depleted and all he could do was fall on his knees and pant. Breath coming in harsh desperate gulps, air his body didn't really need to live but his mind needed to drown out his own thoughts.

He wouldn't let himself think.

He couldn't let himself think.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans for him

Just as his breathing stilled and he started focusing on the rage that he forced to burn inside himself, he felt it. A stab in his soul, as sharp as a lightsaber slashing through his ribs and directly into his corrupted soul.

Dread. Fear. Guilt. Fear. Anger. Fear. Hate. Fear. Longing. Fear. Desperation. Fear. Need. Fear. Lo- Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear.

He could feel his eyelights extinguish as the fear took over everything else. He was spiraling so fast, so hard, so completely, that he didn't even notice the soft footsteps making their way slowly towards his kneeling form from the back.

The soft taps of slippered feet felt like hammer strikes into his soul.

He wanted to flee, but he couldn't. His legs wouldn't move. Wouldn't lift him from the desolate ground he deserved to dust into.

Then they stopped and there was only silence left.

Silence except for the rush of his magic into his skull. It was screaming fear to him.

'run away!' His mind screamed at him. 'hide! don't let him see you! don't let him see what you became'!

But he couldn't.

The silence stretched forever, neither of them moving. Neither of them wanted to speak first. Neither of them knew exactly what to say. He didn't know how much longer his soul could take this silence, how much longer he could keep himself from falling apart. Or worse.

Thankfully, mercifully, the other spoke first.

'red.' His tone was gentle but carried the weight of Red's world in it.

Red felt his whole body shiver from that one word as it came from his mouth. It was like lightning struck his very soul, making his whole body quake. It was time...

"heh," his voice cracked, he hadn't used it for anything but screaming in rage for years. "yer finally 'ere."

There wasn't an answer, only calm silence and cool refreshing magic combined with a powerful force washing over Red's frame.

"wha'? not gonna talk ta me before ya finish me off?" Red barely kept his voice from cracking. "ya changed sans."

The name felt so sweet as it left his teeth, even as bile rose behind them at the implication of his own words. Sans was here to do the one thing Red couldn't make himself do. The one thing Red should have done to atone for his crimes. The one thing he should have done to save Sans from himself. He should have ended it before Sans had to dirty his hands.

There was no reply and Red didn't expect any.

So he just sat there, accepting.

Waiting for the final blow that would free him of this horrid world that took the only thing that he ever truly loved from him. The one thing he was cursed to love but not have. The only thing that made living worth it but was forbidden to him.

Waiting for Sans to end their curse forever.

Waiting for his final judgment for daring to love.

Love wasn't allowed for a Jedi. It would consume them. But Red was weak, he let love enslave him, let it make him want more than he was allowed. It was a crack in his soul that left him open to his inevitable fall into the dark side.

Red loved Sans and he would love to die by his hands.

He waited for the sound of the lightsaber, for that gorgeous blue glow to shine from his back and stab through his soul.

Instead, a pair of skeletal arms grabbed him from the back and pressed him into a bony chest.

He froze in place, unable to process what was happening.

The warmth from the embrace felt both incredibly painful and wonderfully familiar. He could feel his magic gathering on the edges of his eyesockets. Was Sans trying to torture him before he ended it? He wasn't that cruel before, but Red definitely deserved it after everything he had done.

Suddenly, he felt Sans' body shake as it pressed impossibly closer, hugging him even tighter. Was Sans... crying?

"s-swe-," Red almost slipped up, but he wasn't allowed to call Sans pet names, not anymore. "sans?"

All he got in return was an unintelligible mumble from the teeth pressed into his shoulder.

"wha'?"

"..." Sans moved his head to the side, facing away from Red. "you idiot."

"...?" Red was too stunned by the emotion in Sans' voice. What was happening?

"why did you leave?!"

"wha'?" Red tried turning around, but the arms around him held him firmly in place. "wha' da ya mean? ya know what i did an-"

Sans grabbed his shoulders at a speed not even Red could keep up with and twisted him around. Their feet tangled as Red's body was twisted and Red fell backward, Sans landing on top of him, still holding his shoulders. Their faces were close. Too close.

"i don't care about that!" Sans yelled and Red's sockets snapped wide open. He never saw Sans yell before. "why did you leave me behind you moron?!"

Silence followed Sans' question as they both stared at each other. Sans' eyelights dug holes in Red's, emotions Red didn't think he would ever see in them burning like two supernovas.

It didn't feel real.

“sans," Red was almost sure he was hallucinating. "have ya forgotten how it all ended last time?”

Instead of a reply, Sans glared at Red, eyelights burning impossibly hot with an emotion Red would never have dreamed he would see in those beautiful white eyelights. But before Red could fully process what he was seeing, Sans leaned down and pressed his teeth to Red's.

A spark of magic spread from the contact and through Red's whole body. He could feel his own magic and force ignite. His whole body felt as if it was burning. As if it was alive again.

The moment Sans pulled back Red let out a whine. It wasn't enough. He needed more.

"i don't care." Sans breathed out, before he closed the gap between them again and deepened the kiss.

It felt magical.

It felt unreal.

It felt like a lie.

But Red didn't care.

Reality could go fuck itself.

Sans was here and Red would never let him go.

---------------

This got a bit long >.>

For anyone confused about what the hell is going on (cause I have no idea how clear I managed to make it ^_^;;;): Red was a Jedi, he fell in love with Sans, the dark side noticed and used that love to get Red to work for them. Red did some very bad things for the Sith... but when he ended up in a battle where he almost hurt Sans he ran away. And hid on an abandoned planet. But Sans found him >:3

Hope you like this! And I hope I didn't butcher the Star Wars lore too bad XD

#Anonymous #kustardweek2024 #KustardWeekRyu #SilverRyuWrites #SilverRyuFic #mywriting #fanfic #fanfiction #undertale #underfell #ut!sans #uf!sans #kustard #sanscest #kustardweek

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saltedpeppermintmocha · 2 months ago

Text

MONSTERS DON'T DO BACKGROUND CHECKS - 1/?

-UFSans x Reader

Summary: Moving across the country and starting your life anew on the basis of a rumour may not be the smartest thing you've ever done...but, well, you're here.

If only you could stop running into that asshole skeleton, life would be pretty good.

Tags: underfell au, bara Sans, afab reader, enemies to lovers, fluff, eventual romance, eventual smut, slow burn, swearing, alcohol, smoking, past abuse, plot

Notes: I figured I might as well play around with sharing this one on tumblr too! Don't know if it'll get any interest here (I've never posted a fic on tumblr) but thats okay either way. This is currently on Ao3 with 10 chapters and 75k words, so its a long one folks.

Chapter 1: Monster Don't Do Background Checks

The building looms above you, and you wonder (not for the first time) if you are making a mistake.

Okay. You take in a deep breath and count to ten. One shot at this. I got this.

Fake it till you make it, right?

Pushing open the surprisingly heavy glass door, you walk in. It takes you a few moments to adjust to the sudden LED-lighted lobby. The first thing that catches your eye -and how could it not - is the giant fountain in the middle of the room. It’s huge, with water spraying out in all directions. A robotic statue stands tall in the middle, water spraying from each of its four arms. An attention-grabber, for sure.

Despite its opulence, the lobby itself is quiet. A few monsters litter about, and it takes you a concentrated effort not to stare. Shit. They are huge . Instead, you focus your eyes on the reception desk in the far left corner and start towards it, ignoring the feeling of multiple pairs of eyes watching your every moment.

There is nobody behind the desk, which feels a bit odd. You check your phone, confirming the time. It’s correct. Maybe you’re a little early, but that's a good thing…right? Shit. Maybe it’s not for monsters. Who knows. Standing on your tiptoes, you lean slightly against the counter in an attempt to see around it. Nothing. Huh.

For a moment you can’t help but flounder, feeling awkward as more monsters in the lobby turn to face you. Then your eyes catch on something shiny further down the counter. A reception bell. Oh. Do you need to ring it?

You slam your hand down on it, only after the chime starts considering that maybe you should have paused a second before just going forward. In some places, ringing the bell could be considered rude, right? Definitely not the impression you’re trying to give. But just waiting here seems dumb too. You’d risk losing your nerve.

And well, that’s just not an option. This is your option. This is your fresh start.

“Welcome to MTT Resort! Ebott’s biggest apartment-building-turned hotel!”

Fuck! You startle harshly at the voice, turning on your heel to find the speaker. It comes in the form of a short…almost star-shaped monster suddenly appearing beside you. Where the hell did you come from?! The monster is red and blue colour-blocked, and has a diamond shaped head. You don’t really know what to think of it, though…you’re pretty sure that each point on its body is sharp enough to cause real damage. It puts you on edge, despite its smiling face.

“Oh. A human guest…” Its head spins completely around. Woah. Weird. “Nice! MTT resort prides itself on catering to all kinds of guests!”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” You smile awkwardly. “I’m not a guest though. I’m here for the…interview?”

The monster’s head spins around again. “Oh! Well, isn’t that unexpected!” A pause. “But MTT resort prides itself on its ability to handle the unexpected!”

Uh… Unsure as to how to respond to that, you just smile.

The star-shaped monster points its arm(?) at a door not far from the reception desk. “Go through that door! The supervisor will see you in her office.”

“Thanks!” Your smile becomes a bit more sincere. The monster cartwheels away, starting up a conversation with a new monster walking into the lobby. It’s the same spiel it started with you. You only pay the amusing scene a moment of attention, before turning away and heading towards the door.

The door opens directly to an office. A high-pitched voice rings out immediately. “What do you want?”

Oh. That’s…that’s a hand. An actual hand. Giant and blue, with very sharp red nails. The monster currently sits behind a large desk, the giant fingers folded into a fist.

“H-hi!” You stammer. Shit. Pull yourself together. You plaster on a smile and introduce yourself. “I’m here for the job interview.”

The giant hand moves into a ‘three’ position. “Oh. You’re a human.” How is it even speaking? There’s no mouth??

Once its words register over your internal dialogue, a feeling of dread starts to bubble in your stomach. “Is that…a problem?”

The hand moves to a ‘one’ position. For a long moment, there is no response. You feel your nerves and stress grow, clawing up your throat. Your chest feels weird, a tugging motion you can’t fully place.

Then, an answer. “No. Just unexpected. We don’t get many humans here.” A pause. “You can call me Chandace.”

Oh. Alright then. You expected that. “It’s nice to meet you, Chandace.”

A snort (how?!) “Well, you’re already more polite than the shit employeesI have already. Sit down. Let's get this going.”

With that, the interview starts immediately. It’s short, with mostly questions you had expected and prepared to be asked. A few are…oddly specific, but nothing you can’t handle. You can tell that Chandace is near the end of the questions -and are feeling confident- when she hits you with the big one.

“Do you have any experience working with monsters?”

“No.” You admit. “I just moved here, but I’m very open-minded and ready to learn!”

“Well, you’re definitely crazy enough to even try.” Chandace hums, moving again into a ‘three’ position.“We require all staff to live on-site. Is that a problem?”

“Live…on site?”

“Yes, at the resort.” She says, words slow. “Part of your pay will go directly towards your room, of course. But employees get a discount.”

That seems…highly problematic. Definitely something that wouldn’t fly outside of Ebott. Red flags pop up in your mind from all directions. But…well…that does actually solve your other big problem of living out of your car.

“That works for me.” You say. “I do have a car. Do you have parking?”

“Yes.“ Chandace says. “Most monsters don't have cars, so I can sell you a spot. Full-price.” Fucking hell. How much of your pay is going to go towards just living at the resort?! It's frustrating in principle, but not like you have many other options.

Wait. Most monsters don't have cars? But…

“What about those cars in the parking lot?” You can’t help but ask. The parking lot outside the resort was practically full.

“Mettatons, mostly.” She says. “Status symbols.”

Huh? You think back on the cars you walked by. Sure, they were pretty nice…but not exactly something you’d consider a ‘status symbol’. Still, you nod. “Okay.”

A long silence, then. “I’ll get started on the paperwork.”

You straighten up, eyes widening. “Does that mean…I got the job?!”

“Don’t be stupid.” Chandace stands up. “Arrive on time, do your job, don’t pull any human shit, and we’ll have no problem.” She starts towards the door. “I’ll be back with the forms.”

The door closes behind you as Chandace walks out. Alone in the office, it takes you a moment for your mind to truly click.

…I got the job.

…

I did it…holy shit. I actually did it! A triumphant grin forms on your face, and you lean back into the chair. Relief quickly overwhelms any sense of victory you feel. You have a job, and -surprisingly- a place to sleep.

So, that’s how you became the first human employee at a monster-owned business.

Fucking cool.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The elevator makes a freaky sound as you go up, enough to make you question if it might be best to take the stares from now on. At least you’re only on the third floor, so the ride isn’t too long.

The doors open to a rather lackluster hallway. Sure, there may be nothing overtly wrong with the hallway, but it looks like any other hotel hallway you’ve ever been in. It contrasts so heavily with the glitz and glam of the outside of the building and the lobby that it gives you pause.

Walking down the hall, you quickly find your room. Sliding the keycard into the slot, the door unlocks. You push it open with your hip, pulling your suitcase behind you. Once inside, you lock the door and turn on the lights.

Your room itself is much like the hallway, upsettingly normal; though, you are not sure exactly what you expected. Maybe something more ‘monster-like’? Whatever that might mean. Still, the room has pretty much anything you could need: a bed (large), a television (old and boxy), a bathroom (no tub, damn), a table and chair and storage. The only thing missing is a kitchen, but Chandace had already explained earlier that the employees use a full communal kitchen.

It feels sort of like being in a dorm. Hm. Again, you can’t exactly complain.

After haphazardly putting away your personal items and checking out your view (literally just the side of the building next door), you decide to find this communal kitchen. Double checking that you have your keycard with you, you walk out of your room and down the hall.

It doesn’t take long to find what you’re sure is it, a large open door at the end of the hall. You turn into the room…

…and immediately crash into someone.

“Shit!” You grumble, stepping backwards and rubbing your hurt nose. Whatever you walked into was soft, but didn’t move an inch.

“Watch your fucking step.” A male voice. You look up. Oh. It’s…a cat? Well, a cat monster. Huh. This is actually the first monster that I can somewhat recognize. The cat narrows his eyes at you. “You’re new.” He says, ears folding back onto his head. “Where are you working?”

You introduce yourself, feeling a bit on edge as his stare only grows in intensity. “I’m the new receptionist.”

At your words, his shoulders drop. “Hm. Fine then.” A pause. “Just don’t take from my tips.”

“Uh, of course not?” You respond quickly, confused. “I guess…you work here too, then?”

“Everyone on this floor works at this shithole.” The cat deadpans. You open your mouth to ask another question, but a paw on your shoulder gently pushes you aside. Before you can say anything, the cat monster walks past you.

Well, fuck me then.

You roll your eyes, and head into the kitchen. It’s empty now, but clean at least. That’s good. There’s also a small seating area with two couches, and a large window. Walking over, you check out the view. It’s a bit better, showing the park across the street. It’s kind of interesting to people-watch. Uh. Monster-watch?

Bzzt

Your phone vibrates in your pocket. Not a call, a text. Probably Chandace with your schedule. Shit. You can’t believe you are actually going to work at MTT resort! A monster hotel. What the fuck is your life?

Pulling out your phone, you open the message and read it. Uh. You re-read it. And again. That…can’t be right….right?

[Chandace]: Your first shift is tomorrow. Be downstairs at 4:30 a.m.

Four thirty?! You groan at the text, immediately turning around to head back. If you have to be up that early, you have no choice but to start winding down now.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘Winding-down’ turns out to be completely impossible. You try, oh how you try, but everything in you thrums in excitement and anticipation. How the hell can you ‘wind down’ when you’re actually here? Living in MTT Resort? When everything you’ve been working towards for the last few months has actually happened…and worked?

I’m here.

I’m actually here.

A mantra you don’t think you’ll stop repeating for a while. Grabbing a pillow, you place it over your face to muffle the excited sound that escapes you. It had been a long, terrifying process, but it actually fucking worked! You think of your day, of how terrified and anxious you had been, of how you spent at least an hour in the MTT Resort parking lot before being able to calm yourself enough to walk in.

A bit ridiculous, sure, but it’s not like you’re normally like this. God, if you were, you don’t think any of this would have been possible. It was pretty much your life on the line after all. You think you can give yourself a bit of a break.

Monsters don’t do background checks; the rumor that had you uproot your entire life and move to a completely foreign environment. There hadn’t been a way to corroborate the rumor -nothing online about the subject at all- so the risk had been huge. I guess I was just desperate enough to try anything. At least it turned out to be true. You’re not entirely sure what you would have done if things hadn’t panned out. There was no backup plan.

When you first heard the rumor, you had assumed you would have to move to Ebott itself. That…was overwhelming. The thought of that monster metropolis at the foot of the mountain felt so alien to you. Apparently it had been a small farming town before the Emergence, but the humans that previously lived there left quickly after the monsters showed up. Now, ruled by the monster monarchy, it had exploded into the bustling place it is now.

The main problem with moving to Ebott was the tension between monsters and humans in the area. It’s a bit better now…but not long ago there were many incidents in the news. Humans would go to the city and cause trouble; sometimes smaller things like vandalism or robbery, and other times actively looking to hurt someone. A dumb idea, really. It never really worked out well for the humans that tried. Not only are monsters normally much stronger than us, but they actually are legally allowed a wide-range of self-defense for themselves and their territory.

The law had to catch up quickly after the Emergence. Many people were not happy at the monster's existence, and would travel to the town to demand them ‘return to the mountain’. The first time a human was seriously hurt, it was huge. The man had gone to Ebott and attacked what they thought was a weak monster, only to get their ass handed to them. It went to court, and the entire world watched as it was self-defense. It was the first time in a while that you actually felt a bit proud of your species. The precedent continues to stand, dissuading many would-be attackers and vandals. Unfortunately, despite the win, things remain tense between the two species, especially in Ebott.

So, no, the idea of moving there seemed impossible. Not with your limitations. But in your research, you found another possibility. A city, two hours or so away from Ebott, where enough monsters had branched out to that they formed their own area colloquially called ‘Monstertown. Monster owned businesses were popping up quickly, including a new branch of the famous MTT Resort. From what you read, the big migration of monsters had been a joint decision between the government and the monarchy to improve Monster-Human relations. Unfortunately, it had ended up mostly just dividing the city. Like Ebott -now, anyways- there are rarely any incidents, but only a few brave humans ever enter Monstertown.

Knowing that, the looks you got all day are neither surprising or insulting. Monsters look at you in surprise and confusion more than anything. It’s what you can expect when you move specifically to the monster side of the city. Sure, maybe you’d have an easier time blending in on the human side of town but…well…there’s a reason you applied specifically to a monster-owned business.

It’s worked out for you though. A place like this, where monsters are separate but still receptive to humans, is perfect for you.

Your phone vibrates on the bed, pulling you from your thoughts. You pull the pillow from your face and grab your phone. A new text is up on the screen.

[Mark]: Where r u?

Frowning, you swipe to clear your screen and turn it face down. You push away the new thoughts trying to crawl up your mind, anxieties you thought you left miles ago. No, now is not the time to reflect on the past.

You are here. This is your future.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

You don’t get much sleep at all, anticipation for your first day thrumming heavily in your veins. Eventually you do pass out, but it feels like you only sleep for maybe twenty minutes before your alarm starts going off.

Peeling yourself out of bed, you get ready and head on down to the main floor. Chandace hadn’t mentioned a uniform -luckily- so you were dressed in your best ‘business casual’ type outfit. You take advantage of the large elevator mirror to ensure you look good and put-together from all angles before the doors open to the lobby.

It’s pretty much empty, which you could expect at this hour. The only two occupants are the hand monster and the star-monster, chatting at the reception desk.

“Good morning!” You smile, walking over.

Chandace turns towards you, fingers in a ‘four’ position. “You look presentable. Good.”

“Uh, thanks.” You respond. The silence grows a bit too long. “So…how can I start?”

“I will train you today.” Chandace says. “Tomorrow you will be on your own, so listen well.”

“You will do fine.” The star monster says. “MTT resort prides itself on a robust training program!”

…

‘Robust’ my ass.

If there is an actual training program, Chandace doesn’t follow it. All she does is show you the absolute basics of working the reception desk. The customer service part of it comes easily, but the software is almost alien to you. It takes you a bit to understand how to navigate it. Still, you feel like you’re catching on pretty well by the time the first guest arrives.

You look up, catching eyes with a dog monster. “Good morning!” You give your customer service smile. “Are you checking in?”

The dog looks completely surprised. “You smell like…a human.”

You blink. “Well, good. I am a human.”

The silence goes long.

“Can I help you check in?” You repeat. Your voice seems to shake the dog monster out of it.

“Okay.”

The rest of your interactions go similarly. No matter their size or personality, they all have the same reaction to seeing you: complete shock. It’s kinda funny, but you have a feeling it will get old fast. There’s only so many times you can be told your own species before it gets too repetitive.

Chandace leaves you on your own after the first guest, telling you to only bug her if it's urgent. It feels a bit like a compliment, that she thinks you’re good enough to be left alone. But also…it's kinda worrying to be the only one here on your first day.

It’s just after noon when your stomach moves from a light rumble to an intense need, and the lack of caffeine -you now know you’ll have to bring your own- and food starts to negatively affect your attitude. When you finally get a chance, you head towards the supervisor's room.

“Hi Chandace!” You peek in. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“What do you want?” She responds, fingers in a ‘one’ position. You have a feeling she isn’t actually looking up at you.

“Just, uh, wondering when I should go on break.” You say. “It’s pretty quiet, I think now might be a good time?”

“A break?” That gets her to look up. “What are you talking about?”

…

“Uh…” You start, not really sure how you’re going to handle this. Why is she confused? “My break. You know…the time I get to myself…that I don’t have to work?”

“You don’t get a ‘break’.”

That's…not possible. Your shift is over eight hours. Do monsters not get breaks?! For a moment you panic, wondering how you’re going to manage this. Shit, you need this job. But can you work that long without a single break?! “But..I’m legally entitled to it.”

“What?!” Chandace’s fingers go down into a fist. “Is this a human thing??”

“Yeah.” You nod.“It’s thirty minutes for anything over eight hours.”

“Are you serious?!” She grumbles. “That’s ridiculous! I don’t know how you humans manage to get shit done like this.” A pause. “Anything else you’re ‘entitled’ to?”

Well, yes, actually. But it doesn’t feel like a good time to bring any of that up. Not on your first day. Not when she already seems so annoyed. “Just a thirty for today.”

“I’m not paying you to not work.”

You respond quickly. “It’s unpaid!”

“Hm.” She looks down. “I’m going to look into this. You better not be lying.”

“I’m not!” You insist.

“Fine. Take it. I’ll do your job too.” Her fingers move dismissively. “Just be back on time.”

“Okay. Uh, thanks.” You leave it there, not wanting to upset her any more, and leave the office.

After giving the reception and lobby area a quick check -no potential guests- you head out into the lobby with a destination in mind : MTT Burger Emporium. The glittery gold sign has been tantalizing you all morning. You figure that soon, the idea of staying inside the resort for your break and eating resort food will sound awful, but for now it’s all you need.

You walk into the emporium and look around. It looks just like any other fast-food restaurant, with a bit of extra pizzazz. The walls are decorated with various scenes from Mettaton’s movies and tv shows. Not that you’ve seen more than a few minutes of any. Hm. You look away and make your way to the counter.

Oh.

The cat monster from before stands behind the counter. You smile. “Hi again!” Squinting at the small nametag on his apron, you finally have a name to put with the face: BP.

BP’s eyebrows raise. “Quitting already?” He asks.

“What? No.” Your smile fades. “What are you talking about?”

“I thought you were working this morning.” He says. “I saw you on my way in.”

“I am.” You say, your voice taking on a confused tone as well. “I started at 4:30 this morning.”

That only confuses him more. “So…why are you here if you’re not quitting?”

Suddenly the pieces connect. Ah, I see. “Oh, I’m on break.”

“On…break?” His head tilts to the side a bit.

You explain again what a break is, going into a bit more detail this time. The confusion on the monsters face lessens as you talk. When you finish, he chuckles. “Really? Shit. Chandace is probably pissed.”

“Seemed it.” You sigh. “Do you guys really work the entire shift without a break?”

BP shrugs. “Normal to us, I guess.”

“They’re so long though…I don’t know how you do it.” You respond, glancing up towards the clock. Shit. You’re running out of time. “Anyways, what’s good here?”

The break feels too short, and you only finish half of your burger by the time you have to go back to the reception area. A bit early, but it pays off as Chandace comes out at exactly thirty minutes. She’s a bit hard to read…but you think she’s surprised that you are back on time.

“MTT Resort will comply with your human laws.” She says. “You’ll get a thirty minute break, unpaid.”

“Sounds good to me.” You smile.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

2 Weeks Later

Walking out of MTT Resort, you throw your hands in the air for a full-body stretch. Your bones pop, and you let out a relieved sigh. Shit, that feels amazing. The air also feels great after that long-ass shift. You started long before the sun came up, and it’s already sunset. The end of your two weeks of ‘nonstop orientation’ hell is done. Fuck. Finally, tomorrow, you have a day off. You’re completely exhausted and want nothing more than to pass out in bed. But…you have things to do.

Looking down at your phone, you program the MonsterMart into your GPS and let it lead the way. Walking down the street, you can’t help but feel a bit like an animal in the zoo. Humans don’t normally come to this side of town, so you get a lot of looks. It doesn’t normally bother you much, but today it's getting under your skin quite a bit.

Instead of paying attention to the stares and allowing your annoyance to grow, you spend your walk double checking the grocery list on your phone. It’s not long, just a few items so that you’re no longer spending money at the MTT Burger Emporium. As much as you actually enjoy talking to the snarky cat monster there, the food is heavy and your wallet is really starting to hurt. The resort pays weekly, but with a good portion of your paycheck going towards your room and parking…there isn’t much left over. Definitely not enough to be paying for food each day.

So, grocery shopping it is. You had briefly considered going to the human side of town, but your car is low on gas, and really, getting the lay of the land is probably the best bet. It feels like you haven’t left the resort at all in the past month. If you really plan to live here for a while, you’ll need to know more than one building. Sure, maybe it would be better to explore Monstertown in a better mood, but you don’t really have any other options. Your last paycheck is already almost gone, you can’t afford another Burger Emporium meal and groceries. As it is, you can almost feel the exhaustion radiating out from you. You don’t want to do this at all. If you had any choice, you wouldn’t be.

The MonsterMart turns out to be a small store, with shelves a bit more bare than you would have liked. Still, you manage to find most of what you’re looking for. The last thing you’re having trouble finding is mustard.

It’s frustrating, you just want to go home. You don’t want to be searching down every fucking isle for condiments. Eventually you do find them, in the back of a seemingly unrelated section. Finally! There’s only one bottle of mustard left, sitting amongst an abundance of other condiments. Weird.

With a small frown, you grab it. It’s a monster brand, you can tell by the overly simple ‘Mustard’ label that human brands don’t do. Interested, you turn it over to see the ingredients. What kind of mustard is this? You are in the middle of trying to determine what one of the ingredients is when the bottle just disappears from your hand.

…

What?!

You look around, eyes immediately locking on a very large monster standing only a foot or so away. How you didn’t notice his approach is a terrifying mystery. You should have noticed something that big approach you. The monster himself is…well, also kinda terrifying. A skeleton stands before you, tall and broad. His heavy-set form is covered by a black, fur-lined jacket over a dark red top.

Yeah, he’s pretty freaky. You should be scared, right? Even if this was a human, it's not a good situation. Cornered at the end of an isle, alone with a being as big, obviously strong and stealthy as this monster is. Every instinct should be screaming. Right?

But fear never comes. No, as your eyes zero in on the bottle of mustard in those huge hands, it’s not fear that overcomes you, but annoyance.

“Did you just…?” You ask.

Crimson eye lights turn to look at you. “did I just what?” He says, voice deep and gravelly.

“You-you took that from me.” You say, surprise making you stammer. “I was literally just holding that!”

He snorts. “ya snooze ya lose.”

…What?

You blink slowly at the rude response, feeling that annoyance quickly escalating in your body to full-on anger. Really? Is this monster really going to try to steal your fucking mustard?!

Maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't been at the end of a long and stressful two weeks, you’d just let it go. It’s just mustard. Maybe he doesn’t understand basic social etiquette. Maybe he doesn’t realize he’s being rude. Maybe he needs it more than you.

As it is, none of that matters. You don’t have a bone of patience left in your body.

“What the fuck?!” You turn to face him fully, holding out a hand. “Give it back!”

The skeleton’s eye sockets widen slightly, before narrowing. He grins, showing off sharp teeth. “or what? ya gonna take it from me?”

You try. Fuck, do you try. Without thinking, you lunge forward at the monster, hands open and ready to claw the bottle back from him.

The skeleton lets out a surprised sound, lifts the hand holding the mustard higher, and that’s it. You just can’t reach that. Condiment fully out of reach, you collide painfully with his body. The force is apparently not enough to move him. You practically bounce off hard bones and onto your ass on the tiled ground.

“Ow, fuck.” You grumble, any physical pain you might have felt being vastly outweighed by the sheer embarrassment that quickly fills your body. What the hell did I just do?! You can already feel the heat growing in your face. It definitely doesn’t help that the monster just stares down at you, a look of pure amusement on his face. Shit.

As quick as possible, you scramble back into a standing position and try to fix him with the strongest glare you still have in you. Getting knocked down like that definitely puts a hose to your fire, but you can still try to hold onto as much of your dignity as possible. The glare doesn’t seem to do anything but amuse the skeleton further, if the widening grin on his face says anything.

“yer not gonna win, sweetcheeks.” He says, bringing his arm back down. As you watch, he starts tossing and catching the bottle in his hand. Taunting you. Asshole.

The demeaning nickname fulfills its purpose of another dagger into your tattered pride. “Fuck you.” You spit out, the only response you can even think of.

Those red eyes look you up and down, intense in a familiar way that immediately puts you back on guard. You’ve seen that look before. Not on a monster, but still. Suddenly, you have a strong feeling that you know the type of thing he’s going to respond with. You practically handed the opportunity to that smug face monster. As said monster opens his mouth, you brace yourself for whatever rude innuendo he’s about to say.

Bzzt. Bzzt.

A phone vibrates, loud enough that you can hear it. The skeleton immediately freezes, free hand going to his pocket. He brings out a phone and holds it to…well…where an ear would be on a human.

“sup.” He says casually. A loud voice comes through the phone that you can’t understand.

The skeleton rolls his eyes. “patrollin’”

The voice on the other end gets louder, somehow. The skeleton winces, pulling the phone slightly away from his skull. “fine.”

Those intense eyes don’t leave you as he speaks into the phone. Unfortunate, as you definitely would have taken the opportunity to try for the mustard again if he got distracted. Anything to restore your dignity even a little bit.

“Didn’t anyone teach you not to steal?” You ask, the moment the skeleton ends his call.

“didn’t anyone teach ya not to mess with someone stronger than ya?” He responds, but he seems a bit distracted now. “well, this has been fun.” He continues. “but I gotta go.” With that, the skeleton turns and walks away. He casually tosses your mustard in the air a bit higher, definitely taunting you.

Unable to do anything else, you flip him off behind his back, glaring at him until he’s out of sight.

Grumbling to yourself, you finally admit defeat. Turning to the other condiments, you try to figure out any sort of substitute for your groceries. It takes you a bit, but you manage to figure it out. The whole skeleton situation puts you in an even worse mood, but the monster cashier doesn’t seem to even notice. The entire interaction is done with as little words as possible, and soon you’re headed back to the resort.

You keep to yourself, quickly heading towards the elevator and up to your room. You stuff what you can in the minifridge in your room and collapse angrily on your bed.

“Fucking skeleton asshole.” You whisper into your pillow.

I hope I never see that fucking smug face again.

[Next Chapter]

#sans x reader #sans x you #underfell sans x reader #uf!sans x reader #ufsans x you #uf!sans #ufsans x reader #sans fanfic #underfell fanfic #underfell fanfiction #underfell sans fanfic #mocha writes

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spookyconductor · 2 years ago

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Morning cuddles

quick note: Heya!! just wanted to quickly mention that this is the first time i’ve ever written a fanfic, and english happens to not be my first language,,hopefully ya’ll enjoy this despite all of that!!

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The sound of soft breathing and light snores fill the room, as the rain against the window adds a calming sense of serenity. Through the slightly open curtains, the rising sun softly shines into the room and lands on two sleeping figures on the bed. Their legs are entangled, arms wrapped around each other tightly, while the sun shines onto their sleeping bodies.

As one of the figures starts to stir awake, letting out a quiet yawn in the process, they slowly begin to open their eyes. Trying to adjust their eyes to the brightness of the room, they blink a few times and look up at the skeleton soundly sleeping next to them. A tired, yet soft smile makes its way onto their face, as they lovingly look up at their partner who’s peacefully snoring away. After a few moments of taking in the sight of the sleeping skeleton's face, they carefully move their arm from under him in an attempt to gently cup his warm cheek. Loving thoughts fill their mind, as they look at their boyfriend’s face with adoration. At this point the sun has risen a bit further, illuminating their faces and adding a soft, yellow glow. Seconds turn into several minutes, as they continue their action, fully content with staying this way for hours if they could.

Though after a good while, the skeleton slowly starts to wake up, letting out a raspy groan. Blinking a few times, as his mind starts to clear up, he notices the gentle touches on his face. He looks down at the person currently tracing his cheekbone, and sleepily flashes his sharp teeth in a small grin. The skeleton’s partner smiles back up at him, as the movement of their hand stops, and instead just rests on his cheek. ‘’Good morning, big guy,’’ they say in a hushed tone. His eye sockets soften slightly at the nickname as he moves forward to nuzzle his face into the crook of their neck, inhaling their scent. ‘’..G’mornin, Sweetheart.’’ After holding his breath for a while he lets out a content sigh, relishing in the warmth and adoration radiating off of them. They let out a soft giggle, wrapping their arms tightly around him once more and pulling him in as if to get him to be as close as possible. The couple stayed wrapped up in each other’s embrace for a few silent minutes, just holding each other and feeling grateful to be around the other. After a few more moments pass, the skeleton decides to move away, although hesitantly, and stretch.

The sound of bones popping and gruff groans fill the room, as his partner decides that it might be a good idea to get started with their day as well. As they slowly begin to sit up to do the same as their boyfriend, they begin to feel a shift behind them and a weight roughly dropping against their back. They let out a soft ‘oof’ in the process as skeletal arms begin to snake their way around their waist, holding on with a soft, yet tight grip. Turning their head to look back at the culprit trapping them in the bed, they’re met with lidded red eye-lights staring up at them. Letting out a playful huff, they try to pry his hands off their waist, but to no avail. ‘’C’mon, Red. We have to get out of bed eventually.’’ They say, rolling their eyes. Red just shoves his face further into their back, letting out another yawn but refusing to move even an inch away from his partner. Letting out a sigh, they slump back against Red, which causes the skeleton to look back up at them. ‘’Sweetheart~ 5 more minutes can’t hurt, don'tcha think?’’ he lets out in a drawl, a grin noticeable just by the tone of his voice. He softly massages the sides of their waist, fully content with whatever decision his partner makes but finding joy in teasing them just a little more.

A defeated sigh leaves their lips, as they let themself get dragged back down into bed by Red, they lower their head onto his chest where they can feel the deep rumble of his chuckle vibrate through his ribcage. Red wraps his arms further around them, holding them securely in place. Giving them a quick peck on the side of their neck he, once again, nuzzles into them. ‘’Seriously, though. Only 5 minutes, Red.’’ Letting out another hearty chuckle, he playfully rolls his eyes. ‘’Yeah, yeah..only 5 minutes, I got it.’’ The couple once again begins to slowly drift off, and appreciate each other's warmth, definitely staying for much longer than just the 5 minutes they promised to lay there.

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starbellbunny · 5 months ago

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Hiaia guys!!! heres a drabble thing to get me back into the swing of writing !! ^_^

Fem!Fell sans/Female reader!!

No tws i think, but there is cheating !!

Happy pride month 🫶

Your husband was an amazing man.

Well and truly- just a fantastic guy! That's why you had both decided to marry, before he had to go away for work. It was a good few months he was to be gone. Although it was, without a doubt, going to be a struggle, you knew you would both make it! That was why you were married, of course. Through thickness and thin, and all that. Despite your reluctance to get married in the first place, it really has been okay so far.

Edward, his name was. Yes, you really were blessed- you could often see other women undressing him with their eyes, when you went out.

Dark, beautiful hair- always precisely cut, mind you,- gorgeous, ebony skin… paired with his wonderfully built frame, it wasn’t hard to see why these women were oh-so jealous of you.

Sans, or as you called her, Red, was certainly not one of those ogling women.

She was different. Monsters were different.

They had emerged out of Mt. Ebbot years prior, before you had even arranged to wed Edward. The monster folk were certainly interesting. Much bigger than humans, even those that were considered small by monster standards could easily reach your height. They were rough, too. It seemed they were always looking for a fight, whether it may be from one of their own, or a human, much too drunk- or plain stupid- to realise what they were dealing with.

From what you could see, from the limited information in the press, as well as the few monsters friends that you had, no monster was held to the same standard a human was. No female was to marry a good, hardworking man in order to have succeeded in life- no man was destined to work in order to provide for his wife and kids. Monsters were able to love who they wanted, be who they wanted. There was nobody to tell them that they couldn’t be with another- to monsters, the concept was completely ridiculous. Disgusting, some might have even went as far to say. There was, of course, monsters that did live akin to humans- and they looked very thoroughly happy! That was what they wanted. That was entirely their choice... There was also, however, monsters that had no desire to follow the traditional human roles.

Red, and her sister ‘Boss’, were prime examples. Red especially asn’t very fond of wearing dresses. Boss was more willing- as long as she looked her very best! Nor was Red fond of anything particularly feminine. Of course, she was still a woman, only… Tom-boyish. Yes, that suited her quite well.

The thought of her in a dress akin to the one you currently wore made you snicker to yourself, admittedly.

It was a nice day out. The sky was a lovely shade of blue- hardly a cloud in sight. Nowhere near cold enough for a jacket, but a shawl was necessary. Just to keep the breeze out. Your pumps clicked on the bricked pavement with every step that you took. The paper from the bouquet of flowers you were holding gently crinkled with even the slightest movements. You were going to see Red, of course! And was it not simply rude to visit, empty handed?

She worked often- the same field as your husband- but was always able to make time to see you, if you so wanted.

You weren’t actually too sure what her, or your husband, did for work. Some sort of business, you'd guess, considering how well dressed they both were- the only difference was that Red wore a lot more of her namesake than Edward. All you knew was that it was a well paying job- you were able to afford a very nice apartment that Edward paid for, and Red insisted on only going to the finest places whilst you were with her.

You were spoiled rotten.

You smiled fondly at the thought.

The café you were to meet Red was along this street, somewhere. The town centre was almost always bustling with people and monsters alike, never a dull moment.

Now… Ah! There it was. In the corner of the street bend, a quaint coffee shop, with the name ‘Muffet’s’ plastered on the front.

Not many humans were sat from what you could see as you walked closer. Only a few monsters of various species sat inside, enjoying their cakes… They did look delicious. You’d ask Red if she wanted to share one.

There was a few seats outside the café, but nobody seemed interested in sitting outside just yet. Maybe it was still too chilly.

You pushed open the door with excitement, and noted how cute the ding of the little bell was. How, in Asgore's good name, have you never been here before?! How charming!

You spotted her immediately, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. She was smartly dressed as usual, with her pinstripe suit that she loved so much. Her coat was strewn across the back of the seat sje was sitting on, which showed off her deep red suit vest, taylored to every curve of her body, as well as her wonderfully crisp white shirt. You idly noticed her hat, stripped with the same deep red as her vest sat on the table next to her.

Wasn’t she gorgeous?

At the sound of the bell, she looked up to where you were standing.

Her smile could rival even yours. Her two golden teeth glinted in the natural afternoon sunlight of the café.

She stood to welcome you in, cheeks reddening ever so softly at the sight of the flowers you clutched in yours hands.

Red roses, waxflower, and carnations. You thought it was a pretty bunch.

Before you were able to hand her the flowers, she had placed a hand on the small of your back, and you pulled you in closely. Ever so lightly, she peppered your face with kisses- until finally, she kissed you square on the mouth. Passionately.

The hand that held the bouquet lingered awkwardly to the side of you both, careful not to get squashed between the two of you, whilst your other lay gently on her chest.

Edward never dared cross your mind when you met with Red. Although, yes, you did feel guilty the first time- being with Red ignited something within you that you had never felt with any of the other men you had been with. None of them could make you feel like this- especially not from a meer kiss.

Nobody in the café even batted an eye at the two of you.

You could feel your cheeks reddening, as the kiss- that only lasted a few seconds, in reality- went on.

You were only human, after all. You needed compant.

Maybe, if Edward was able to make you feel this way, you’d have felt bad. Maybe you wouldn’t be interested in her at all.

Maybe, you weren’t interested in any man, like him. Maybe you had found the company you wanted.

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hj-skb · 1 year ago

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Loose interpretation of "Noir" by @itsladykit, where Edge doesn't want to admit that he's adopting a kitten

2019-03-05

#backlog reupload from twi #my art #inspired by fanfic #spicyhoney #uf papyrus #us papyrus #itsladykit

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mattsturnn · 7 months ago

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looked up my name on here js to be welcomed with literal written porn… y’all r FREAKY

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo smut #vi uf

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ask-codeearasure · 1 month ago

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The Outer Realms --- Chapter 3

<-------- Previous Chapter

Next Chapter ---->

—-----

Chapter Three:

Equivocation

—----

“Remember my friend, that knowledge is stronger than memory, and we should not trust the weaker.” - Bram Stoker (Dracula)

—-

Carrot and Edge hadn’t seen Dream or Ink in over a week. It was starting to get concerning. There was no telling where they were, and it was bad enough that the two of them couldn’t really open a portal into that strange white void that they tended to explore. The two of them tried to use their magic in conjunction, but got nothing. Not even teleporting worked out. They also realized that if they did get there, they’d run into a problem with the possibility of death. They’d be trapped there.

Carrot was starting to get nervous and wasn’t sure whether or not his new idea was going to get himself killed or if he’d be walking into a trap. As he walked through the halls of the queen’s castle, he thought about how he could best go about convincing her of his idea.

Hey, ya know, I was thinking, that doodlesphere place is dying out and that guy stole our only hope to leave, maybe I could borrow a soul or two and try to get it back that way?

He stopped when he got to the outside of the throne room. He was asking to be incinerated. He couldn’t see any other way. If he didn’t convince her, he was either going to get himself killed in that room, at worst. At best, he was going to have to look for another job.

He didn’t know what to do at this point.

“Where the fuck is Dream?” Carrot mumbled to himself.

—

Dream stared at the burning AUs, watching as they crumbled and disappeared into nothingness. That glitch wasn’t like anything or anyone he had ever seen. To think they mistook him for their Error was an issue. And this was what he called mercy…

One of the corners on the pages fell to the floor. Dream caught it but it crumbled away before he could think to do anything else. This was not just cruel, it was diabolical. He couldn’t understand the impostor’s justification.

He needed to find Nightmare. If anyone had a lead on this person, it was him. He supposed he was going to have to find the most negative AU he could at this point. It would increase his chances of finding him. —

It took about an hour before he saw anything interesting, but it wasn’t a sign of his brother. It was a great sense of negativity regardless, despite its small size. It was a white fox with red and dark indigo markings that looked like clouds, walking with a small basket of food in its mouth. There was an inkling of the thought it was definitely more than it appeared, but Dream closing the gap between them didn’t provoke a response.

“Hello?” he said.

The fox looked directly into his eyes with unnatural, ruby red orbs. It took a seat, perhaps with the thought they would be here for a while. Definitely has an extent of sentience.

That’s unexpected. Dream thought. I’m standing here talking to a fox radiating negativity, but there are stranger things in the multiverse.

“Can you speak?” he asked.

The fox remained silent and stared at him.

Dream sighed. “I’ll take that as a no….”

They stared at each other for a short moment. Dream gently lifted the creature, ignoring the weakness the negativity spread to his hands. “I’m sorry, I need a lead to my brother and you’re the best bet I have right now. But I also don’t want you to get hurt…”

He needed a plan, and seeing as the fox still didn’t give any signs of discomfort or any indication that it wanted to leave, he set it back down, then gave himself a seat next to it. Very few times did he ever need to seek out Nightmare. If anything, it was the Lord of Negativity who relentlessly hunted him down, and he did not discriminate who got hurt when Dream was in his sights.

While Dream was stuck in his thoughts, the fox tipped over the basket and dug out what looked like a bun, maybe a pastry, and chewed on it patiently. A moment after, it decided to get another one and place it in the guardian’s lap.

It was feeding him.

“Oh… thank you.” Dream said.

He got the bun and took a bite, pleasantly surprised at the red bean filling. He looked at the fox and mumbled, “Why are you radiating so much negativity if you’re so… nice and calm?” Dream reached over and pet the creature, a tingling numbness cursing his fingers.

He remembered the time Carrot had what he called vodka, claimed a shot of it could get someone drunk if they were what he called ‘lightweights’, he supposed that the fox was comparable to that vodka. It was just a pure concentration of negativity, and very little positivity to numb the effects. It was impossible to even try to figure, considering the creature couldn’t talk.

He lost himself in his thoughts, but suddenly everything went dark. He looked around and saw the fox, its ears folded back. It looked over at him and got a bit closer. Dream stood up and readied himself, summoning his bow and breaking it into his blades he steeled himself for what was about to come.

Dream opened a portal next to the fox, pointing the creature in its direction.

“Go. I don’t want you to get hurt. Please.”

The fox shook its head, remaining where it stood.

“Please go…”

The fox sat down as if to say ‘No, I’d rather stay here with you.’

Underneath their feet, the ground rumbled, vantablack negativity crawling over the stark whiteness Dream had become accustomed to. The equally blank sky above them faded the same shade.

Dream tightened his grip on his twin swords and breathed in. “Nightmare?” As if on cue, the shape of the negative lord surfaced from the depression, the weight of the negativity heavy, almost crushing on Dream’s shoulders. Nightmare’s grin was the first thing to flash before him, a dark, satisfied chuckle echoed throughout the void. “Hello, brother. I was wondering where you went.” Dream flinched, but held his ground. “Nice to see you too.”

The fox growled at Nightmare, peeling its lip back to bear its teeth as if knowing that Nightmare was not someone to tolerate, let alone trust. Nightmare’s grin only widened, his eye fixated on the positive guardian before him; the canine was but an afterthought. A miniscule feature, despite its complicated, swirling emotions. “We both know you don’t actually mean that. Underneath that gentle mask, your efforts are in vain.”

Dream ground his teeth together, stepping in front of the fox as if to shield it from Nightmare’s overpowering gaze. Before he knew it, he was on his feet, dodging a swipe from one of his brother’s tentacles, then slicing clean through another. He was on a mission. What he needed was to convince a standstill out of his opponent.

“Where are your friends, brother?” Nightmare purred, an unsettling rattling sound. “Have you been abandoned? Or perhaps you left, knowing this struggle would have them meet their end?” The elation Nightmare felt was twisted, a corrupted form of the emotion usually associated with happiness, pure glee. The best move Dream could take was to make a distance between them, knowing Nightmare would follow. There was no doubting why Nightmare tracked him down so quickly this time. With the vast majority of the Doodlesphere emptied by that other “Error”, there were barely any other options of negativity for the corrupted being to feed from. Ignoring the fox chasing after them both, Nightmare continued in determined pursuit of his prey.

“Right now is not the time to fight!” Dream yelled. “There is a reason the Doodlesphere is losing so many universes so quickly! If you help, we can continue this later!”

Another wave of negative force knocked Dream off his feet, Nightmare looming over him, his body having grown to an intimidating height. But for once, he froze in his efforts, but not without sustaining a burning grip on Dream’s ankles, forcing the guardian to bite back a wince.

Nightmare’s eerily bright blue eye searched him, as if to scan his entire being. Another rumble shook the ground, but there he remained regardless. He could finally kill Dream, here and now, and everything would suffer in his absence, regardless of the limited number of universes now. He could end it all. “I disagree, dear brother. Why give you another chance to live, when the obstacle at hand is you and only you?”Nightmare shrunk, returning to his usual height and shape, but yanked Dream down to the floor so he could continue standing over him, relishing in how his own existence rendered his target into a simple puddle of agony he could watch directly. “We have continued this game for far too long. Saving what is left of this existence is pointless.” The grip on Dream only tightened, suffocating him as Nightmare’s tentacles slowly climbed up his legs and arms. This was perhaps the dumbest decision he has made today. “Your effort will get us nowhere. Besides, was it not your goal to save the multiverse from all its suffering, in spite of my own? I died because of you. I suffered to keep you safe. YOU ARE IN DEBT TO ME!”

Suddenly, Nightmare screeched, an overwhelming roar covering the noise of several golden throwing stars striking off the tentacles around Dream, causing them to turn to dust, and several more gunshots were barely audible. Nightmare tugged himself away with a multitude of holes struggling to close themselves up.

Where the fox once stood was another skeleton. They wore a rather ornate red, indigo, white, and gold kimono with snow-white fur around the collar. They held two more handfuls of shuriken, and sent them both a polite smile.

“I’m afraid Dream-Sama doesn’t owe you anything.” the stranger said softly. “I will not allow this to continue further.” They summoned a golden scythe and charged at Nightmare, swinging to slice the being in half.

Nightmare narrowly dodged, pieces of negativity crumbling off his body with what Dream recognized as an effect of the weapons the stranger used on him. As Nightmare responded in kind, aiming to slice the odd skeleton’s head clean off, Dream dragged himself to his aching feet and summoned his bow, jumping away from a now multitasking Nightmare to avoid a lopsided smack across the void.

The stranger dodged the attack and cut through it before teleporting the scythe away and exchanged it for a set of thick chains, bright gold and radiating positivity, almost sickeningly so. Another shot rang out and tore through Nightmare, but another quick glance at the stranger gave Dream another nugget of information- they didn’t have a firearm on their person. So where were the shots coming from? Nightmare’s roars of outrage only doubled in volume and disastrous effect on the void, forcing Dream’s body to tremble with weakness against his will, even as Nightmare’s own state was deteriorating as well. Reaching out to whatever positivity he could, to the shock that he now sensed to much coming from the stranger’s weapon, Dream drew on that strength to form his arrows, and not a second to lose, shot three into Nightmare’s back, interrupting his next attempt at dismembering the intruder before him. The negative lord screamed this time, the darkness he initially entered with flickering away at the edges bit by bit in rapid succession, gaining speed the more Nightmare deteriorated. If he was trying to get a word in, Dream couldn’t determine what he wanted to say.

The stranger used his magic to fling glowing chains around Nightmare, reeking of positivity, but certainly not Dream’s own. “I suppose your time in that poor body is finally at its end. I do hope you understand this isn’t as personal as you believe it is.” They summoned a golden spear that radiated twice as powerful as the chains. Raising it up, Nightmare was impaled.

A final shot rang out as silent footsteps echoed. “Really, thiz waz that problem Klezmer mentioned. Ha… Skill issue iz far more accurate of a description.”

The darkness broke around them, the speaker looked like Killer, a far… shorter version of Killer, with a strange black uniform, and held a gun that had golden smoke flowing out the end. They blew the smoke away, then sent Nightmare a disappointed look.

Dream felt like he was going to collapse any second, but pushed himself to approach Nightmare, splitting his bow back into two swords. His brother was worse for wear, his body married to the floor and partially melting into it, the rare sight of white bones showing up here and there amongst the boiling corruption that has been covering it for centuries. Nightmare’s eye was rendered unfocussed, now absently staring in Dream’s general direction. The guardian swallowed down his nausea, then turned to address the two strangers. “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

The Horror-like giggled at the question, it was almost menacing, hiding his mouth as he did so, “Oh no, I’m quite fine.”

“Zat idiot did hurt me the last time we met but it wazn’t much…. Not like this.” he aimed the gun at Dream.

BANG!

In shock, Dream didn’t process what just happened. He took one step back, then another, before he lost balance and dropped his swords, landing backwards at a painful angle. Distantly, he heard Nightmare’s beginning laughter, distorted and clear, and it quickly mutated into manic cackling right before the dark lord teleported away. No, he couldn’t lay down. Not now. A shaded cloud formed around Dream’s vision, and he finally brought his hand up to his chest to check his throbbing soul, his glove coming away caked in red.”

“Oh, don’t act like zat,” the Killer look-alike complained, “You’re not going to die.”

The skeleton in the kimono snatched the gun out of the other’s hand, snarling, “Idiot! Why did you do that!?”

It seems politeness was off the table.

“Simple,” the soldier smiled, “I felt like it.”

“You felt like it?! Edelweiss….” the growl was deep and demonic.

“Izanagi, don’t look at me like zat, you know it’z better to keep zese things balanced. We infected zat monstrosity, and so it’s only fair to do ze same with Dream. Zey’ll balance themselves out… maybe.” Edelweiss glanced at the suffering guardian to confirm his train of thought, “Yeah, zey’ll balance zemselves out.”

“You don’t know that!” Izanagi hissed. “That venom has far more power than any of the–” he looked like he was heroically holding back the urge to strangle the gunman then and there.

“I know zat!” Edelweiss said, as if offended by Izanagi’s statement, “I barely used less zan a drop. It can fit on ze tip of a sewing needle. So don’t blame me for hiz pain.”

“Why I oughta…” Izanagi’s grip on the gun tightened to the point the weapon snapped in half. “It’s one thing to use countless weapons filled with a Level one of Violence of venom and one drop of venom with a LOVE that is immeasurable.” Izanagi looked at Dream with an expression filled with worry.

Their words were nothing more than muffled blurs to the guardian, their exasperated expressions and gestures falling flat in terms of meaning. Dream could not pay as much attention as he should have, his head spinning and pain weighing unbearably on his body. Agonizingly, Dream dragged himself back up, failing to hold back a groan. He squeezed his eyes shut, and attempted to summon any degree of healing magic available to him, but got no results past his shaking hands flickering with dim light. The dizziness and nausea only built, this alien but sickening feeling creeping outwards from his chest. He had to leave. He didn’t know where, not when he could barely think as is, but he couldn’t stay here any longer.

With the last bit of willpower, he reached out towards the positivity of Underswap.

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 3 months ago

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One of the major scenes of the story, and the beginning of troubles for both Papyrus and Undyne.

Once the door closed, Papyrus shut his eye sockets for a few seconds and tried to empty his mind. Emotions, thoughts, indecent remarks had to go. Asgore tolerated no weakness, no hesitation, no protest. He had to approve everything he was saying without questioning it. Never upset him.

A small "ding" echoed from the voice box. The elevator led directly in front of the castle entrance. It was too late to back down now.

He took a deep breath, buried all his morales deep inside, and got out.

"Be brave." He cheered himself up. "Sans is maybe right. He saw nothing. He saw nothing. Act like he saw nothing."

The skeleton walked towards the door and opened it wide, determined. He wasn't expected to find him in the corridor, and even less with someone. Papyrus froze outright seeing a very unexpected scene play in front of him. He blinked several times to be sure it was real.

Undyne was here. In Asgore's huge arms. Kissing him at full mouth.

Papyrus stayed still, unsettled, mouth opened between horror and lack of understanding. This was impossible! He couldn't believe one second of this bullshit.

Undyne hated Asgore. She hated him with all her soul and she never hid it to him. She couldn't just have changed sides overnight?! He was at a loss for what to think. Was it one of her tricks to try to knock him off of the throne? Then why didn't she talk to him? Did she really fall in love then and he just didn't notice?

What if she told him everything and that's why he was there?

He felt so betrayed his soul hurt.

Terribly uncomfortable, Papyrus could only stare until the King let her go. Undyne shuddered when she noticed him. Speechless, Papyrus tried to meet her eyes, begging her to tell him what she was doing. The fish lady refused to look at him.

"You can go." Asgore's voice boomed. "We will see each other tomorrow for the monthly report, right?"

"Yes, your Majesty." She answered in a whisper.

She crossed the door the other way. The skeleton wanted her to stop, to scream at her to wait and explain, but she disappeared in the elevator. She never looked his way once. What was happening?

"Ah, Papyrus. Come in."

The skeleton straightened when the loud voice addressed him. He held back his distress as best as he could and followed the King into the throne room. He waited for him to sit before he kneeled down at his feet and bowed his head in front of him, as the protocol demanded it.

Asgore always terrified him. He was immense, taller than him by two or three heads. His hands were as big as his skull and could easily break any of his bones without effort. His face was naturally severe, feared and respected. Seeing him standing there, he could easily understand why Sans refused Frisk to fight him.

"At ease, captain."

Papyrus stood up and put his hands behind his back, silent. The King stared at him for a good minute, from head to toe. The skeleton stayed still, despite the impression he was only a little mouse in the hands of a huge starving cat.

Asgore looked him in the eye, gauging him. Papyrus held his stare. The King hated when his servants showed they were scared.

No Weakness, chapter 2.

#underfell #papyrus #undyne #asgore #uf papyrus #uf undyne #uf asgore #underfell fic #underfell fanfic #underfell ao3

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moonstrider9904 · 5 months ago

Text

Drift

Part 2 of the Urban Flora mini series

Part 1 | Part 3 | Cross-posted to AO3 | Series Masterlist

Summary: Just after you thought your encounters with Crosshair would never happen again after that night at the opera, you run into him on a rainy day.

Tags: Smut (18+ only), flirting, mild jealousy, clit play, nipple play, vaginal sex, blowjob, cum eating, hair tugging, making out

Word count: 5.2k

Playlist: Drift by Alina Baraz

The rain fell on the glass windows with a gentle pit-pat sound. You could notice the occasional flash of lightning from the corner of your eye, followed by low rumbling thunder of the distant heavy storm, though you were lucky that the most that had followed you to that café on the east side of the city was the softer rainfall, your favorite. The heavy layer of clouds in the sky made it darker than it usually was at that hour, and inside the little specialty café, the warm lights were turned on.

You sat at your usual table with your usual preferred warm beverage resting on a cup in front of you. You were leaning forward with one elbow on the table, hand supporting your chin, and your other hand was holding the small holopad with which you were surfing the holonet. You’d felt nervous for a moment about the holonet being virally flooded with pictures and videos of you with Crosshair the night before, but any coverage you saw of the opera had to do with the performance and the celebrities who were attending.

Lucky for you, it seemed you fell in neither of those categories despite being your mother’s daughter.

Then, as you were scrolling through your preferred gossip blog, your thumb froze to the holographic screen when you saw a picture of yourself sitting at the bar, and in front of you was the man of the hour. He had his back turned to the camera of whoever took the picture, therefore there was no way anyone could recognize who he was, or so you frantically told yourself. Even if there was, Crosshair was a soldier, not some celebrity or political figure. Maybe that would protect him, and by extension, you.

You wouldn’t deny that you stood by your sentiments from the night before—the time you spent with Crosshair, an unbelievably sexy, charming man, was worth anything—but you felt like you’d dodged a bullet, knowing there was already someone out there talking about you and your mystery man, even if it was just a gossip blog. Speculations and teen discourse ruled over that blog, but what would have happened if you had ended up somewhere with more influence?

You sighed. You hated that you had to guilt yourself into not being with someone as amazing as him.

With curiosity, you couldn’t help but look at the caption.

Spotted: Coruscant Senator’s daughter getting flustered and flirty with a mystery man at the Opera last night. Could he be just an escape from the loud, boring performances, or should we perhaps start ringing wedding bells? My sources say this man has never been seen at the Opera before, but if the front is as good as the back, we’d sure love to see more of him sooner rather than later ;)

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief at the fact that the gossip didn’t seem to be anything more than you and Crosshair chatting at the bar. There were certainly no details about what transpired between the two of you afterwards. He wasn’t identified by anyone either, so no one would be able to reach him.

Your heart then sank at the realization that you didn’t know how to get to him either. You looked at the picture on the blog again and sighed. You were smiling brightly in that picture, and it was a natural smile, one of the few you’d ever seen in pictures of yourself. And as you saw Crosshair in the picture, with his elegant outfit, broad shoulders, and silky silver hair, you felt your walls clench around nothing at the memory of the time you spent with him.

You couldn’t believe you hadn’t asked him for his comm frequency. But then… he hadn’t asked for yours either. With another sigh, you saved the picture from the blog onto your holopad’s storage and turned it off, setting it inside your bag as you reached for your cup to take a sip of it before it got cold, and you enjoyed the rich taste and the texture of your coffee as distant thunder rumbled outside.

The sound of the rain falling outside got louder, and it prompted you to look up from your cup. When you did, your eyes scanned the café and you noticed a young man from the other side of the café looking at you. He looked around your age, and he was easy on the eyes with his full head of black, silky hair and a pair of admittedly stunning blue eyes, and he smiled at you when your eyes fell on him. You lips tweaked, barely forming a smile, as you didn’t want to give an immediate invitation, and yet again, your mind wandered to the night before. When it had been Crosshair looking at you from the other end of the bar, you had immediately let him know you wanted to approach you.

Regardless of whether the guy at the café was cute or not, you had a feeling the sensation you’d gotten when it was about Crosshair wouldn’t be replicated with a different man anytime soon.

Breaking your train of thought, you noticed the young man getting up from his seat and walking up to you, smiling gently as he approached you.

“May I sit down?” He asked you.

You smiled kindly and nodded.

The man took a seat across the small table and his smile widened when you two made eye contact. “I’m sorry, I really don’t mean to intrude, I just… well, I’m new at the city and it’s a little hard to find genuinely nice people here on Coruscant, but you seem nice so…”

You chuckled softly and reached for your cup of caf, taking a sip of it. “Where are you moving in from?”

“Raxus,” he answered.

You nearly choked on your coffee, but you successfully played it cool. Raxus was a planet name that was all too prominent in conversations you’d overheard of your mother with other people, particularly other senators.

“Really?” You asked, setting your cup down. “What’s someone from Raxus doing all the way here on Coruscant? Isn’t that like trying to mix fire and water?”

The man chuckled; the sound admittedly charming. “Yes, well… Politics brought us here. My family and I aren’t huge fans of the Separatist ideology, which quickly rendered us pariahs back at home.”

“I imagine,” you reached for your cup, taking another sip. “Fun tip, though. If you’re going around Coruscant declaring you’re from Raxus without being asked, maybe that’s why people aren’t being so nice.”

“I’m not, but duly noted,” he chuckled. “I just figured… you know, big city folk has a bit of a reputation.”

“Oh, definitely,” you agreed.

The man quickly glanced at your cup and then back at you. “Could I buy you another cup of caf? I notice that one’s empty.”

“O-Oh,” you stammered, but you decided to let things flow a bit. It was just a cup of caf, after all. “Sure.”

The man gestured at a nearby waiter and requested a cup of caf exactly like the one you’d just finished, entirely on him. While your next cup arrived, you and the man continued chatting about the differences between Coruscant and Raxus, and he seemed pleased when he found you had quite a lot to say about the strained relationship between the two planets caused by the Clone Wars, and your knowledge about senatorial procedures was uncanny. It was a pleasant and stimulating conversation, and you didn’t get much of that among most of your peer senatorial offspring.

Once again, you were enveloped in a blur of actions as the next series of events followed. Both you and this strange man were chuckling at one of your clever remarks, and a waiter came by to deliver the pending cup of caf you’d be treated to, and the next thing you felt was a third person rushing to your table and pulling up a chair for himself, taking his spot next to you.

“What are we laughing about here?” He asked.

Your eyes widened, and for a moment you couldn’t believe you were looking at him. The sight of his striking amber eyes and his silver hair with rain droplets scattered around it finally brought a smile to your dropped jaw, and when Crosshair finally directed his gaze your way, he winked subtly.

“U-Um-” Your new friend began, but Crosshair was imposing enough to render anyone speechless.

“Crosshair, this is… um…” You were gesturing at your friend, but you then realized you hadn’t asked for his name. “Anyways, he’s new to the city and I was offering some advice.”

Your new friend nodded, looking back at Crosshair with his big blue eyes widening nervously—you could sympathize with your unnamed friend, and you found it hard to laugh at all the things he was thinking about Crosshair and his sudden appearance, no doubt praying hard that this man who’d suddenly appeared at your side wouldn’t want to beat him up for flirting with his apparent partner.

“Y-Yea, that’s all it was,” he said, “and I wanted to thank her by refilling her cup of caf, that’s all.”

“Mm,” Crosshair mused, reaching for the cup in front of you and drinking out of it. “I see.”

“W-Well, I was just leaving,” said your friend.

You smiled and waved as he left, but you didn’t bother asking for his name. It was incredibly likely you would never see him again, and even if Crosshair hadn’t shown up, that would have been the sentiment with which your encounter would have ended anyway.

“So,” Crosshair hummed. “Do you make it a habit to come to this little coffee shop?”

“I also make it a habit to actually drink the coffee,” you said as you noticed him drinking out of your cup again.

“This is some good shit,” Crosshair gestured at the caf. “Specialty?”

“Yes,” you smiled. “I’d sure love to try it anytime now.”

“Right, of course, because this was after all a gift for you,” Crosshair teased.

“I’m not gonna turn down a cup of caf,” you said. “If you wanted to be the one to buy it for me, you should have shown up earlier.”

He chuckled. “Sorry I’m late, darlin’. Did you miss me?”

“I didn’t even know you were coming,” your teasing demeanor turned sincere. “But yes.”

“How touching,” he smirked at you.

“I didn’t need saving, for your information,” you said. “I had it all under control and I had no intention of going home with that man.”

“Is that so?” Crosshair purred. “What makes you think I care?”

You giggled and leaned in close to him, with your hand under the table brushing up his thigh. “How did you know I was here? Spare yourself any excuses. I know this isn’t a place you come into frequently because I’m here all the time and you never are.”

Crosshair chuckled and leaned in close to you too, and below the table, his own hand found yours and brought it up dangerously closer to his crotch. “I told you I love that you’re so smart.”

You cooed, biting your lower lip. “We can’t do that here, handsome.”

Crosshair leaned closer and gave your lips a quick peck, smirking as he pulled away. “I know a place.”

Every hair on your body stood on end at his words, and your eyes widened with anticipation and wonder when you met his gaze again. You remembered how disheartened you’d felt the previous night when you arrived at your apartment alone, having just let go of the most amazing man you’d met. There he was in front of you, another chance at bliss.

It was worth it.

“Now?” You asked.

From his pocket, Crosshair pulled out enough credits to cover the tab plus the tip, and he grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the café.

“Now,” he grinned.

You both ran out of the café into the rainfall. The street seemed deserted, as anyone who may have been on it had already taken shelter someplace or another, and it was just you and Crosshair walking quickly in the endless falling raindrops, and always having been one for romanticism, you pulled to a halt and tugged Crosshair’s arm.

“Wait!” You called.

He turned around, his eyes meeting yours, eyes softening slightly as he approached you wanting to ask you why you wanted to stop. To his pleasant surprise, you listened to your burning desire to throw your arms around him and kiss him on the lips. You didn’t care that you were both getting wet, and you didn’t give a damn who could see you. You grinned into the kiss, and you playfully whimpered into Crosshair’s lips when he lifted you and briefly spun you around in the rain, never breaking the kiss until he finally set you back on the ground, smirking at you.

“Come on,” he said. “We’re not far.”

You followed Crosshair across the rainy sidewalks into a cute little building, a motel you’d never paid any attention to. The décor was nice and the people who worked there seemed discreet, and there was no difficulty in getting a room. Next thing you knew, you and Crosshair were stumbling past the open door of your bedroom, your lips instantly falling on each other as it closed and locked behind you, and he lifted you up from the ground once more to carry you to the bed and gently set you down on it. Crosshair climbed onto the mattress on top of you, caging you to it, and with a seductive smirk, he finally kissed you again.

The night before on the couch had been magical, but it dawned on you that you hadn’t seen each other naked yet despite the immense pleasure he’d given you. You also reveled in how large the space seemed around you as you both lay on the bed—it was so soft and comfortable and warm and cozy, and it allowed you both to do so much more on its large surface than you probably could have on a couch. The thought sent shivers down your whole body.

His kisses on you were like fire. Crosshair didn’t just limit himself to kissing your lips. His lips also trailed around your face and your neck, even your shoulders and your collarbone over your clothes. Your hands brushed up and down his back, and at times, your fingers toyed with the short, silver locks on the back of his head, and that seemed to be what prompted him to lift his figure off you only enough to remove his jacket and toss it to the ground beside the bed. You wanted to follow, to remove every garment you had on you and be done with it, but Crosshair was patient. His lips continued to lavish every spot they could find, and you were so entranced that you hardly noticed when his hands finally began to tug at your clothes.

Crosshair was gentle. Slowly, he first removed your jacket, helping you lift your torso to do so. He removed your shirt and placed it aside, and you heard him groan into your lips at the sight of your brasier shielding your breasts from him. His hands traveled up your belly and your chest, feeling the soft fabric delicately holding up your mounds, and his lips didn’t relent. You felt your mind being flooded with the essence of Crosshair, and your lips sped up as your breathing turned heavier, suddenly engulfed with an endless desire of him. As you’d done the night before, you nibbled at his lower lip and tugged on it with his teeth, which he seemed to like, and as you did, Crosshair reached his skilled fingers around your back and unhooked your brasier, letting your breasts fall freely as the placed the garment aside. Then, Crosshair pushed you slowly onto the bed once more for you to lie flat on your back, and his hands didn’t hesitate to make their way up to your breasts.

Crosshair massaged your breasts slowly, his palms covering up each mound entirely. His movements were slow and flooded each of your corners with delightful shocks which intensified when his fingers began to lightly pinch your hardened nipples, playing around with the pace and the intensity of his movements, soon having you mewling under him. Every sound you made drew out his more passionate instincts, drawing a low growl for him that nearly made you beg him to take you now. Your heart beat even faster when Crosshair kissed his way down your body: your neck, your collarbone, your ribs—where he left a generous mark only the two of you would know was there—your belly, your lower abdomen. Hungry for you, Crosshair even kissed your inner thighs and your crotch over the fabric of your trousers, with his teeth ever so slightly nipping at your plump flesh, drawing sharp little whimpers from you that made him groan in anticipation as he felt his erection ache in confinement.

You were so aroused, you felt your wetness would begin soaking through your clothes at any moment. Crosshair felt it was time to take it to the next level, and he stood up from the bed, removing the dark, long-sleeved shirt he wore. You couldn’t tear your eyes off his shirtless figure, toned and lean, adorned with battle scars he’d overcome, with a thin trail of hair going down the center of his abdomen and concealing itself, teasing you, under the edge of his low-waisted pants. You were aware you looked visually hungry, but you hardly cared. The man was beautiful, and he brought out a fire in you that you didn’t even know existed.

You sat up on the bed and made your way onto all fours, crawling across the mattress to the edge where Crosshair stood. You kneeled on the mattress and went straight for his chest, kissing his warm skin and feeling his musculature under your lips, trailing in any direction your heart desired. You delighted in the sensation of Crosshair’s chest rising and falling as your lips traveled around it, and the movement intensified when you kissed down his abs. Your middle finger delicately toyed with the thin trail of hair the lower you got, until you reached the edge of his pants and there was only one thing left to do. You unbuckled his belt and undid the button and zipper, hearing him groan through gritted teeth. His hand softly cupped your cheek as you freed his erection from his trousers, feeling your mouth watering at his length and girth, and you didn’t have to give it a second thought.

You instantly went big, taking in as much of his length as you could, bordering on deepthroating him. Crosshair rumbled a low moan in his chest as he let his head fall back, uttering a series of curses in admiration as you bobbed your head up and down his cock. You switched between quick and slow paces, applying perfect pressure with your lips around his shaft, and you circled your tongue around his tip occasionally, an action you quickly noticed he liked. Crosshair then looked down at you again, reveling in the view of you bent over with your ass in the air, your hips emphasized by the rim of your pants, your breasts hanging and brushing against the mattress, your hair messy… he shivered. He loved the way your hair looked, messy and carefree while you went down on him, and he took a hand to grab a fistful of locks, tugging ever so gently as you continued.

The pace of his moans grew, as did the strength with which he fisted your hair. You could tell he was close, and you had no intention of stopping. Through nonsensical mutters, you finally were able to make out that Crosshair was trying to tell you he was going to cum, possibly as a warning for you to back out now if you didn’t want a mouthful of him, but you looked up and made eye contact with him, squeezing your lips around his shaft harder as you increased the pace of the blowjob, and soon, Crosshair was writhing. He panted, groaning softly as he tried to keep from squirming, until he was able to contain himself any longer and his hot ropes of white spilled inside your mouth. You swallowed all of it, unwaveringly, and then you sat back on your heels as you looked at him proudly.

Crosshair smirked at you, his demeanor grateful and almost worshiping as he lunged forward and kissed your lips with intensity. His hands wasted no time in getting you to wiggle out of your trousers, and he freed himself of any clothes remaining on him as well. You waited patiently on the bed as you watched him climb onto it, and Crosshair made his way to the headboard and the pillows where he sat back, comfortably, and he gestured to you to sit on top of him. It wasn’t what you’d expected, but you followed along and, smiling with excitement, you sat with your back pressed to his chest, his lips hovering over your right ear, and your legs spread. At that angle, you could see your breasts, your belly, and the top of your cunt. Finding a moment’s shyness, you looked over at Crosshair, and he chuckled in adoration at you as he gently kissed your temple.

“Wanna see what I do?” He asked you softly.

Your heart fluttered in anticipation as you nodded, and you looked back down at your pussy as Crosshair’s right hand snaked over to your folds, his left hand toying with your left nipple. He ran a single finger up your wet flesh until reaching your clit, and he rubbed quick, small circles over your pearl. Such a simple movement came with intense sensations, and you moaned in curiosity and expectation, particularly aroused by being able to see what he was doing to you. You wondered if he would take a different approach, but he remained solely with his finger rubbing over your clit—it wasn’t as if he needed much more. Soon, you were beginning to see stars around you, and your breathing gradually got heavier. Tiny, foreboding waves of sparks coursed through you during the buildup, hinting at how breathtaking the pleasure would be once you reached the peak, but you had a feeling nothing could prepare you for that.

You remained astonished at how the little rubbing could be sending you directly into paradise, and then the time was right, and you were pushed off the edge into climax, squirming in Crosshair’s grip. You watched his finger speeding up on your clit throughout your orgasm until the pleasure was too intense, and you closed your eyes, leaning back on Crosshair for support. You didn’t make sense of anything he muttered into your ear, only of how alluring and ethereal his voice sounded, and how well it went with each wave of pleasure rapidly spreading through your body. And Crosshair continued, dragging out your orgasm as much as your body could withstand, until he retrieved his touch from you and you were left a panting, dazed, sweaty, and flustered mess on top of him.

You heard Crosshair laughing low and sexy. “So cute.”

You shifted your body, turning around, and you kissed his lips hungrily. Crosshair’s hands planted themselves firmly at your hamstrings, lifting you up for you to straddle him as he sat up straighter, supporting his back with the pillows and headboard behind him. You didn’t have to think twice about sinking down his long, hard cock, hypnotized by the sheer magnificence of the stretching inside of your walls. You moaned long and silky, the sound filling the room, complemented by a low groan from Crosshair at your warmth and wetness submerging him. You inched your torso forward, leaning on him, looking down at him as your hands cupped the sides of his face and your forehead rested on his. Crosshair held your lower back with one hand, and his other arm curled around your shoulder for his hand to hold the back of your head, clutching your hair. You both made eye contact as you slid up and down his length, and you couldn’t help but smirk each time you felt Crosshair pulse and twitch inside you.

Your pace was steady, never in a rush, letting you both feel everything there was to feel. Inundated by how amazing he was, you leaned forward to kiss Crosshair with passion, closing your eyes as you let the sensations guide you. There were moments when Crosshair’s lips deviated from yours, nipping at your chin, your jawline, and your neck, and the speed of his lips around your skin grew with the pace of his breath the closer he got to his release. You made eye contact with him again when the rhythm of your bouncing increased, both of you panting, and your high-pitched whimpers exquisitely enticing him into bliss. Your whimpers turned into moans, and your full weight rested forward on him as you held him tighter than ever, and Crosshair grunted until his release spilled inside your walls.

Your bodies softened, but Crosshair’s grip remained strong as he helped you off him and onto the mattress beside him. You were both now lying on the bed, facing each other, and he didn’t hesitate to let his lips fall on yours. You both kissed each other heavenly, with your hands continuing to explore each other’s bodies leaving no surface untouched. You were intimately pressed together, entwined, lacking any space between your figure and his, and you easily lost track of the time that passed. It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours, but it made no difference.

You had never felt like that before. On a physical level, surely, no pleasure from anyone had ever been that great, but on an inner level… you found your soul aching for him. You were astounded at how quickly Crosshair could become your everything, but it was a feeling you welcomed even if it were to ruin you the very next day. He ruled your thoughts, your body, your heart. You always wanted to be around him.

You were lying on the bed staring at each other, and only then did you notice that the rain had stopped. You sat up on the bed and reached for your holopad on the nightstand, checking the time, and you held in a gasp.

“Crud, I think I have to go,” you said. “I’m expected at the senate.”

“What do you do there?” Crosshair sat back on the pillows with his hands behind his head, the pose inviting you in for another round of drawing your lips on whichever parts of his skin you could touch. You blushed at the sight of him, painfully drawn to him, but alas, your margin for sweet cuddles post lovemaking had nearly disappeared.

You chuckled. “This time around, I’m only going to help in a series of meetings. Nothing major, but I did promise I’d be there.”

Before reaching for your clothes, you knew you didn’t want to seem too eager to leave despite being late. You crawled up to Crosshair on the bed and softly kissed his lips, staring gently into his eyes afterwards.

“Crosshair?”

“Mm?” He smirked.

“Please promise me we’ll meet again,” you muttered, hopeful.

Crosshair straightened up, chuckling, and he reached for your holopad. On it, he dialed his frequency and saved it, and then he handed it back to you.

“Whenever you want,” he said. “Well, almost.”

“Right…” your heart sank at the thought of him being shipped back off to the war. “When do you leave?”

“Day after tomorrow, at night,” he replied.

You nodded slowly. “I’ll see you before then.”

He smiled confidently, and he gave you a brief nod. “You got it.”

You smiled sadly at him in response. “Let’s get dressed. I’ll wait for you.”

“No, you should go,” he chuckled, and then exhaled heavily. “I still kind of need a minute.”

You chuckled. “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

“Nah, it’s not a problem, doll,” he said. “Now go, I don’t want you to get grounded.”

You laughed at his remark and got off the bed. Crosshair watched as you got dressed, enjoying every movement you made, until you were fully clothed and all that was left was for you to fluff your hair. When you were done, you met his gaze and approached him to kiss his lips softly one last time, and after a longing stare, you were out the door headed towards the rest of your day.

Crosshair gathered himself for a few more minutes on that bed, pondering on every memory he’d just made. When he was finally in shape again, he got dressed and left a few credits on the nightstand as a tip, then he discreetly made his way out of the hotel and into the outside world.

It was still cloudy, but the rain had stopped, and the air had that chill that Crosshair had a feeling you loved. He would have probably liked to talk to you about it, but you were already well on your way in your decided route, but the difference that time was that now he didn’t have to resort to some random gossip blog to cross paths with you. Crosshair smirked at the thought—he just might hit you up that same night if you weren’t already busy.

But as he walked, Crosshair suddenly got a feeling, courtesy of his sharpshooting instincts. He stopped in his tracks, and just as he suspected, someone unknown to him leapt out in front, blocking his way.

“OH, MY STARS, IT’S YOU!”

Crosshair straightened up again and he let go of any fighting instincts when he realized it was a simple girl. A human girl, no older than sixteen years old, dressed in expensive designer clothes with an elaborate hairdo in her blond locks, wearing far too much makeup for a child.

“Kid, get back to your parents,” Crosshair said.

“SMILE!” The teenage girl aimed her holopad at Crosshair and snapped a holo of him.

“What the hell?!” Crosshair growled. “Why the hell did you just do that?”

“Um, you’re the man of the hour, duh!” The teenager answered. “Don’t tell me you only read Scandal Gal to find out where the senator’s daughter was!”

“What—”

“Unless she actually asked you to meet her at the café?” The girl’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, that’s so romantic! Where is she now?”

“Leave me alone, kid,” Crosshair began walking around her. “And erase that picture.”

“You look good in it,” the girl said. “I’m gonna send it to Scandal Gal and now everyone’s finally gonna know what Sweetie’s mystery man looks like!”

“Sweetie?”

“Yeah, it’s what everyone’s calling her!”

“Whatever, kid, erase that holo and don’t send it anywhere,” Crosshair said.

“Can’t make me!” The girl stuck her tongue out at him in defiance.

Crosshair rolled his eyes. So, a pic of him would end up in Scandal Gal. It’s not like anyone important read that anyway.

“Whatever,” he repeated, finally making his way far from the kid. “Good day.”

Even as a soldier and a sniper, Crosshair had seen or experienced few things as weird as the one that just happened. He figured big city folk with money to waste needed to find some sort of entertainment when survival wasn’t their priority. And yet, somehow, you weren’t like that. You weren’t a spoiled little brat who couldn’t care less about others’ boundaries. You were clever, you were kind, you were funny, and absolutely beautiful.

You were you, and that thought was enough to get him through the chilly walk alone back to base.

Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging to support me!

Next chapter ->

#uf series #moonstrider writes #tbb fanfic #tbb smut #tbb crosshair smut #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #tbb crosshair x you #tbb crosshair #star wars smut #the bad batch smut

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ghostfanwriter · 2 years ago

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💖💫You focus right here💫💖

A Joel Miller fic.

Where you give Joel head. Like, a✨really good✨one.

💫💖 Pairing: Joel Miller x afab!reader. (No use of y/n).

💫💖 Setting: Not mentioned, but I wrote it as the same couple on this and this fics. You might want to read them before this one, but you don't have to.

💫💖 Features: smut, 🔞, Joel spiting inside reader's mouth, oral sex (m receiving), praise, soft dom Joel, dirty talking, cum swallowing, cum play, them being super cheesy at the end.

A/n: This just came to me when I woke up and... I just had to. I was fully high on Kali Uchis when writing this, so I recommend listening to 'Angel' and 'Honey baby (Spoiled!)' while reading this. Really, just keep them on repeat and vibe with this.

Also, amor = love. He calls you that a few times 💖

Word count: 2,5k-ish.

Hope you like it! Good reading ✨

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You drop to your knees, opening his belt. "I love the sound of your belt." You say, looking up at him, his furrowed brows softening at your words. "You do?" He asks, bringing his hand to your hair, caressing it softly, making you smile. "Uhum. Love it when you're behind me and I hear it. Makes my belly feel electric." His brows furrow back and he smiles, his hand coming to your cheek.

"Come up, baby" he helps you up. Holding you by the back of your neck, he pulls you into a kiss. A slow and passionate one, touching every corner of your mouth with his tongue like he's trying to memorize what you feel like.

After a while he pulls away, looking into your eyes. "I love you" and his tone makes your knees falter. "I love you too" you manage to say.

"I know you do, baby. You show me that every damn day." He smiles. A genuine and happy one, the rarest kind from Joel.

Holding your cheek, his eyes go dark again while he looks at your mouth.

A lower, thicker voice tells you "Open your mouth for me, amor". Moaning, you do so, even before he finishes speaking. You know exactly what he's gonna do. He grins softly at your eagerness. That is a more common 'Joel smile'.

With his hand now pressing on both your cheeks, he keeps your mouth open. "Can I?"

"Anything you want."

He closes his eyes tight. Almost cumming inside his pants with your words. When he opens them, he stares the inside of your mouth, and you pull your tongue out. Then he softly spits inside of it. You hum in appreciation and swallow it. Opening back your mouth.

He does it again, watching you. Once again you swallow and open your mouth for him.

"Please"

He does it again.

"Good girl", he says when you swallow.

His thumb goes inside your mouth, and you instinctively roll your tongue around it, earning a groan from him.

"This mouth feels so good" he pushes his thumb further into your mouth. You suck it, applying more pressure than you could on his dick. You close your eyes and fully swim on him, allowing him to take over your mind.

He watches you, like an animal watching it's prey. His eyes dark and his brows low, his nostrils slightly wide. If you weren't you, this look on Joel's face would be terrifying. You've seen it before, it's the look of an animalistic instinct being held back. The same look he has on his eyes when he's trying not to kill someone.

It's a deep and attentive stare, every single minor move of your face is being noted.

"You focus right here." You open your eyes, sucking in your breath like you've been underwater, his voice pulling you back to the surface. "Get back down on your knees." voice deep and low.

He pushes your head down lightly, and you finish undoing his pants. You pull them down and moan when you see his dick.

It's hard, and red, and veiny, and pulsing, and so... fucking... wet...

No matter how many times you see it. How many times you touch, or taste, or feel or have it inside you. It always makes you forget your own name.

You grab it and stroke it a few times, almost like you're trying to make sure it's real, and right in front of you. You lick the very tip, right where it's leaking. You moan when you taste him, and his grip on your hair tightens, pulling you away from him.

He grabs himself, his tip going white from the force he's applying. "Don't fucking tease me baby, — groan — or I'll cum all over this pretty face of yours too damn fast." Your brows furrow and you moan at his words. You would love if he actually did it.

God you would fucking love it.

"Open your mouth, tongue out" you do so, you just can't say no to him. Not when his voice is so low and breathy.

"Good" he praises, "So pretty like this".

Grabbing himself tight at his base, he slaps his tip on your tongue, groaning at the feeling. His cock is heavy and it hurts with every slap, his weight sinking your tongue down on your teeth everytime he does it. It sounds wet and dirty, and if you're honest, you would hate to be in this position with anyone else.

But when you look up and see Joel Miller, you can't hold back the smile that forms on your lips. You always want to do more. To do and be whatever he wants you to. He could wish for literally anything, and you would happily give it to him.

In contrast with what he's doing on your mouth, his hand keeps it's soft stroke on your hair, tenderness wrapped around his gesture, making you feel loved, even in this position.

"Give a kiss, baby" you lick your lips and lick his tip, never looking away from his eyes. You kiss it again, and when you try to pull away he holds your head still, keeping your lips connected to his leaking tip, and you lightly part your lips to suck his precum inside your mouth.

You poke your tongue out and do zigzags under his tip. Earning a grunt and a smile from him. You keep doing it until you take his tip in your mouth and twirls your tongue around it. He grunts and groans, loving how much attention you give him.

You could just open your mouth and bob your head up and down. But no, not to Joel Miller. He deserves more, he needs more. And you want to give him it all.

You keep sucking on his tip, your lips tightly wrapped around him, sucking him while you start stroking him, deep and slow. His precum pooling inside your mouth when you pull away to breath and lick your lips.

He grunts, knowing what you're about to do. "Open wide, pretty girl." his voice low and barely audible. Looking into his dark and heavy eyes, you open wide, just like he said, and he pushes himself inside your mouth. "There you go. Fucking take it like a good girl."

You take him in deeper, bit by bit. And he helps you by thrusting into your mouth. He groans when he hits the back of your throat, and you hum at the feeling, making him shiver from the vibration.

It feels nice to have him inside you. Wherever he is. As long as he's inside you, you feel complete. Like he's what's missing on you.

His cock fills your mouth so nice, it's so warm and the skin is so soft. His tip is so gentle against your throat, so nice and wet. It drives you wild, just wanting to feel and taste him as much as you can. Sometimes during the day you just have this internal ache, this urgency to go after Joel Miller and take him inside your mouth. Not even for him, just for your own pleasure.

You could cum just feeling him inside your mouth.

You take him in deeper, all the way in, and you keep him there, doing your best to breath. Slow and steady breaths. He groans at the cold air hitting his cock, his grip on your hair tightening.

"Fuck, angel, shit." he sounds almost like he's in pain, and if you know the old man well enough, it means he's holding his orgasm back as hard as he can.

You moan and squeeze his thighs softly, pulling a bit way and sucking him again.

In and out, slow and wet. You love how it sounds, how anyone passing on the hallway could tell exactly what's going on inside your bedroom.

You swallow him whole again and push your tongue as far out as you can to lick his balls when you go all the way to his base. Feeling his hair tickle your nose, you laugh around him. He laughs too and grunts. He loves it.

He fucking loves it.

You love it. You could cum just feeling him inside your mouth.

You feel lightheaded. Is it because his cock is blocking your oxygen?

Or is it because he has flooded your mind?

You're floating on a Joel Miller ocean inside your mind when you hear him laugh. Slowly, you're brought back to reality. You open your eyes (when did you close them? You don't remember.)

"You mean it when you say you like it, don't you baby? Look at you. With a mouthful of me and touching yourself like that, so pretty all messy like this."

Oh... right.

You're touching yourself. Since when, exactly?

It doesn't matter.

You're doing it, steady and passionate circles around your entrance and your clit. You moan at the acknowledgement. Fully embracing all the feelings he's making you experience.

You suck him with more intent, doing him as hard and intensely as you're doing yourself.

In and out, sucking him adoringly. Swirling your tongue around him and your fingers around your clit, your body clenching at a harder move on your pussy. His body mimicking yours when you moan around him, the vibrations going straight to his heart. Making him need and love you more each fucking time you show him how much you appreciate him.

"Holy — fuck — shit, amor. Fuck." he's almost giving in. So fucking close to filling your mouth. The thought makes him twitch.

Your pretty mouth, you tongue so nice and pink, or is it red from all the abuse? God, thinking about it makes him throb. All of your mouth covered with his cum, all wet and white. He grunts, his mind consuming him and making him thrust hard inside your mouth. Properly fucking your face, his hands both on each side of your head, keeping you close and steady.

You moan again, so fucking close, loving the way he's using your mouth and throat. Your mouth gets less precise, sloppier by the second, mostly just hanging open open, your teeth covered, your lips tight and sometimes managing to roll your tongue around him.

"Shit baby, cum for me, c'mon. Do you like this? Huh? I fucking know you do, angel. I know you fucking — grunts — love it. Love taking me deep, being so good for me. Letting me use this pretty mouth all I need. My good fucking girl."

Oh, you're gone.

Is it all it takes to make you cum? A praise?

When it comes to Joel, yes. Sometimes you think you could cum if he just stared at you the right way for long enough.

You might try it one day.

But for now, a praise does it. Before your brain computes it, you're cumming. Cumming so hard you have to squeeze his thigh to not fall back.

Your mouth opens, your scream muffled by his cock. He grunts at the feeling, not letting you pull away, keeping himself tucked deep inside your throat. Hands roughly pulling your hair to keep you in place.

"My good — grunt — fucking girl. Fuck, you feel so good, baby. Always so good for me."

He pulls away a bit and cums. Grunting your name and groaning. Thick, warm and long streams coating your tongue. His taste, familiar to you, not failing to make you moan in appreciation.

Still high from your own orgasm, you suck around his tip, rolling your tongue around him and gathering his cum inside your mouth, trying not to swallow it.

You want to show him. Your mouth just like he pictured it, pink — almost red —, lips swollen, and glistening, covered with himself.

You know how much he loves to see it.

When he's fully dry, you pull away, keeping your lips tight around his head not to let anything drip down on the floor.

"It's not nice to be so greedy, baby." he teases you, returning with the stroking on your hair, right where he was pulling while he came.

You smile and open your mouth, showing it to him. He takes a good look, taking the tip of his slowly softening cock and dipping it into his cum, bringing it outside, over your lips and letting it drip down your lips and chin. "So perfect, love. So good for me. Doing all I want. Making me cum so good. Every fucking time." You smile, feeling proud of yourself. You made both of you cum, and you love it when he says you do all he wants.

Because you fucking do. Anything he wants, you give it to him. Anything. You're a blank canvas, and you love giving him the freedom to just experiment with you and see what both of you like.

"Swallow it, amor." You do it, savoring the taste stained on your tongue as it goes down your throat. You sigh and smile, opening your mouth for him to see that you drank it all. "Good girl."

He used his thumb to push what fell down your chin back inside your mouth, and you take it, sucking in his thumb. He smiles. "Did you like it?" You nod, eyes locked on his. "Manners then, baby. I taught you better than this." He says fucking stroking your hair with even more tenderness now. He's gonna kill you one day. He will.

"Thank you, I loved it." You say, your voice slightly damaged by what he did to your throat. "You're welcome, amor. Love it when you sound like that." He says, pushing you up and holding your head up by both sides.

"Love it when you make me sound like that. Love you." Inside his eyes you can see a battle happening. Lust and love fighting for dominance. Part of him wanting to shove you onto your bed and fuck your brains out. Part wanting to cuddle and fall asleep listening to your breath.

"I love you, more than I'll ever be able to show you." his sincerity making you soften under him. "You show me everyday. I feel you, I feel you thinking about me. And I love you, you live inside my head. All day thinking about you."

"I don't know what makes you think I deserve you, baby. I don't. But I'm gonna enjoy while you don't notice it."

"Can't notice what doesn't exist." You say, and he pulls you into a kiss. Groaning when he tastes himself on your tongue.

You know he doesn't deserve it, partially at least. He's done bad things, hurt people. Innocent people even.

But you don't mind. You love him and he loves you. And you're gonna keep giving him what he deserves. Taking good care of him, of your man.

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Reblogs, likes and comments are very,✨very✨ appreciated. Love getting notifications, makes me feel less alone on my Joel (wet)daydreaming.

Also, feel free to make a request, it may take a while but I may write it!

I'm working on a few other fics (and have some others on my blog!). So if you want to, I can create some sort of taglist and you'll get notified when I post some new Joel Miller stuff.

Bye besties ✨

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #smut #fanfic #ghostfanwriter #pedro pascal's characters #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #the last of uf hbo fanfiction

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