#like god we need to use this angst potentional more | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 1 year

Text

Thranduil and Josie Part 101- Seven Devils

Summary: The superstorm continues as Thranduil's physical form goes missing. Where oh where could he be? Grief consumes the the King's loved ones as all sorts of new information and trouble arises. Josie is left reeling after Jareth's revelation.

Notes: Credit to @redeemer46 for the superstorm term.

Warning! *Language, angst, dark story, death*

All Hallows' Eve 2 am

Although you vowed to kill Raven, you could not leave Thranduil. You sat beside your husband rubbing his hand that you laid upon his chest. "Baby, please...please open your eyes. Breathe. Please..."

"Somebody...please do something!! Daddy??"

"My sweet girl I...."

"Don't you call me that!!" you raged.

"My Jo...You know I cannot bring back the dead. Nor can you with all of your healing powers. I am so sorry my child. He is gone. You must let him go. We need to go now!" Julian came to you and pried your hands free of Thranduil as you kicked and screamed.

"Let me go! No!!! I will not leave him!! He needs me! I need him...I will die without him."

"Josephine...you must not say those things. You have a part of him alive inside of you that you must care for." Julian harshly said as he gave you a shake to snap you out of your hysteria.

"For god's sake man, let her grieve. and be with her husband." Garrett growled.

Julian scowled at the protective vampire. "Coming from someone who has never let her be with her husband? Why are you still here? No one except your own kind wants you around." It was clear your father was never going to accept Garrett in your life.

You shoved Julian off of you and looked around at everyone's face for some glimpse of hope. Legolas was still frozen as he knelt beside his father. Haldir's sympathetic eyes begged for you to come to him for comfort as his heart broke seeing you in so much pain. Selene offered you a compassionate eye as she knew this pain all too well when she believed Michael to be dead. She then whisked away and you knew right where she was going. To find Raven and bring her to you. Then your swollen eyes caught Garrett's, which were glassy and wet. As much as he despised Thranduil, he never would wish such suffering upon you. If he could do something to fix this, he would move heaven and earth to do it for you. He displayed a broken half smile to you and extended his arm out, offering you his shoulder to cry on like you once did for him. To Haldir's and Julian's dismay, you went right to Garrett and broke down in his arms as you clutched the pendant in your hand. He held you tight and said nothing, allowing you to grieve with no pressure, like Julian had displayed.

Haldir then took off on a war path also to find Raven, but Selene came back in which stopped him. "She is gone. They are all gone!" she intensely informed.

You stepped out of Garrett's arms. "What??!! She cannot get away! She knows something more, I can feel it! Haldir, why didn't you ask her more!??!!"

He tried his best to understand you were not angry with him or blaming him, that it was only your grief speaking, but it still hurt him. "I..I was only trying to locate Thranduil. I felt it to be the most imperative at the time and when she told us, you rushed off so we followed to help you. I am sorry I failed you...and Thranduil." He then quickly departed.

You knelt back down over Thranduil and placed your quivering lips upon his, long and deep. The soft suppleness and warmth of them were gone and he had an unrecognizable taste. It was bitter.

"Nin beautiful aran erain , nin mel, nin emel, nin faer. Im will avenge thee, an im mel cin more than nin own cuil. An all -o uir." (My beautiful King, my love, my heart, my soul. I will avenge thee, for I love you more than my own life. For all of eternity.) You said as you rubbed the back of your hand down his cheek, then buried your face in his neck and breathed in his lilac scent that was strangely still potent as ever. The rain always seemed to magnify it for some reason, so you figured that to be why.

You whispered into his ear. "Nin aran erain, take nin awaui o hi awful near." (My King, take me away from this awful place.) The exact words you professed the night you escaped Peter's cabin and blindly ran off into the forest. Thranduil came for you then and you believed he would come for you again. You just had to believe it.

"Legolas..." You placed your hand on his. "Please...stay with him so he is not alone. I will not be long. I must find Raven."

The Prince only slightly looked your way, but not in your eyes, then he returned his concentration on his father. It was his way of letting you know he understood. Your heart couldn't possibly break any more than it had, but it did for Legolas. You then raced off as Julian, Selene and Garrett quickly pursued.

It was now a torrential downpour outside and the moon had strangely changed back to a glowing moonstone like Thranduil's eyes. The 13th hour had ended in Jareth's time and he was ready to play.

You all had reached the edge of the forest when a horrendous yell came from the church. It was Legolas. You ran back as fast as you could with the others following.

As you returned to where you had left Thranduil and his son, there stood Legolas but Thranduil was gone. All that was left was the pool of blood on the ground being washed away from the rain pouring in from the broken roof.

"Legolas!! Where is Thranduil??!!" you screamed.

He just stood paralyzed, staring at the ground where his father had been.

"Legolas!!!" You grabbed his arms and shook him. "Where is he!!!!??"

"He...he...he just....vanished..."

"What do you mean he just vanished???? Did he just get up and leave? Were you not watching over him?? I asked you to stay with him!!"

"I did Josie!!! I never left! He just...it was like...stardust...and then...he was gone...right before my eyes..."

"W..wh...wha..." You stammered as your eyelids rapidly blinked from the rain drowning them. You couldn't even speak. You then began marching around the rubble in a frenzy. "Thranduil!!!"

He was nowhere. Just gone. You fell to your knees and sobbed so hard you almost vomited.

Large chunks of stone began falling as the rain hammered down through open ceiling.

"Josephine...we need to leave here now!" Garrett shouted.

You glanced up at him with the saddest of eyes. "I...I can't...feel him anymore....I....tell me this is all a dream...."

Garrett forced you to stand. "I so wish I could sweetheart. Josephine...I am so sorry for what is happening but I will be damned, even more so than I already am, if I am going to let you die!"

He held your head in his hands. "G..Garr...I don't feel so..."

You passed out and Garrett swooped you up in his arms. "We must get her inside where it's warm."

The five of you just got outside when the entire ceiling caved in. Back into the castle Garrett carried you as the others carried on beside him.

You awoke disoriented about 30 minutes later. "Thranduil!!" you gasped.

"Hey, hey. It's alright. Selene, Legolas and I are here." Garrett sweetly spoke and stroked your cheek. Julian was gone though.

"Where's my dad??? I need my dad?"

"He went to look for the others and try to find Jareth." Selene answered. Legolas stood staring out the window in silence.

You abruptly got up. "I am not going to just sit here while Jareth and Raven wreak havoc on more people I love. I promised my husband I would avenge him and that I will do!" But then, you felt extremely nauseated and dizzy and fell back onto the couch.

Garrett whisked to your side. "Josephine, what is it?"

"I...I think I am going to be...." You made a gagging sound as you covered your mouth with your hand. Then it all happened so fast, you didn't even see it. Garrett sped to one side of the room and back, placing a trash can in front of you just as your morning breakfast made it's way out of your mouth. He then held your hair back.....just like Thranduil had done for you. You then made a terrible frown as you wiped your lips with the back of your hand. The taste...it was just like when you kissed Thranduil. "Wh...what is that???"

Garrett peered into the trash can. "It appears to be...possibly fruit, crackers and maybe some...OJ?"

You smacked his arm, quite hard. "Garrett!!! Now is not the time for your stupid fucking jokes! I meant the smell....I tasted it on Thranduil's lips."

He leered at you in shock and offense. "I actually was being serious because I thought that is what you were asking. Sorry!" he snapped and got up.

Selene smelled it and veered around the couch, taking in a stronger whiff. It's....wolfsbane...." she whispered in utter disbelief. "I know it all too well. It has many uses but I know it because of Michael. In the right dosage and mixed with other herbs, it can stop his transformation just like the talisman bracelet I gave him. But...it is also very toxic and too much can cause....."

"Death...." you whispered in horror. "Oh my..god....my mother poisoned him....but....but how???? He swore to me he would never drink anything she offered him."

"But she also had a spell placed upon him. And...it doesn't have to be ingested to be effective. My guess is that it was on the knife." Selene revealed.

"But that makes no sense??" You stood up and began to anxiously pace. "She used the spell to obviously render his senses useless and lure him to her. She could have then easily had gotten him to drink it, so why stab him??? Why even use the poison??? There couldn't possibly have been enough on the blade to kill him. The wound alone would do that. This makes no sense!! She had some bigger plan here and it was interrupted when she was killed. So now what??? Where is his body?? How can he just dissipate into thin air????" You began to hyperventilate and ran to the trash can becoming sick again.

"There was obviously enough poison on it to make you sick just by a simple touch." Garrett said and turned you to face him. "We need to get it out of you asap." He placed his fingers on your chest and his hand glowed of a light blue as you peered up at him in confusion.

Sheer pain coursed over his face as his eyes rolled back. You felt nothing but a tiny tickle where his fingers were.

"Garrett?? What is happening??!!"

He couldn't speak and then he just dropped.

"Garrett!!!! Oh my god, wake up! Don't you do this to me!! I need you!! Selene, what is wrong with him??? What the fuck did he just do??" you reeled in panic as you knelt over him, smacking at his cheek.

"He took your poison into him. He will be alright. Try to calm down. He just has to go through it."

"What??!! Go through it??" you profusely panted as you stared at his motionless body.

"Yes...his own poison, the venom, will eat the toxin but it's not exactly a comfortable process. He will feel the effects of this for awhile."

Although you felt one hundred percent better physically, you still felt sick to your stomach at the thought of what Thranduil must have felt after seeing Garrett like this....and you only had a small amount in you from skin contact.

Garrett began to awaken and you helped him sit up. "What the hell was that?? Why did I not know of this power you possess, or...the one you pulled on Raven too for that matter?? Please tell me you are alright."

"I will be. I guess there was never a need to tell you."

"Ok?? Well, there's a now need for you to tell me so spill it." you demanded.

"It's really not that big of a deal Josephine. Some powers we obtain are carried over from our human lives, only magnified into something else. It all varies. It can be things we were really good at, or strong emotions we possessed...or even related to trauma we endured...and some are just based off of our sign....some don't even have any powers at all except the basics of speed. As far as what I did to Raven, turning her own power against her, I believe I received that ability due to my insane desire for justice upon that pos that killed my sister...you know, karma? Or how I felt I had no control in my life, but now I can paralyze someone with just a glance...I mean, look at Kate...her ability to electrocute someone...that happened to her in life and she was put on life support until Craven changed her. As far as what I just did...I can take people's sickness from them, but I have to suffer for it. My desire to keep my brother alive and not become a monster like me....to me it is a sickness and I did not choose it. No one chooses to be sick..My sister did not choose what happened to her, and all I wanted to do was heal her....so I think that's why I have this ability...to help others."

"First of all, I know you better than anyone and you are no monster. A monster doesn't do selfless acts. Second...that means...you are a healer...like me? What other tricks do you have up your sleeve that I am unaware of?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out....Sorry....stupid fucking joke, I know."

You had obviously scorned him earlier, just as you had done to Haldir without intent. "Garrett...I...I am sorry for what I said. You have to know, please, that I do not really think that. Your humor, it brings light into my darkened world. And...what you just did for me...I have no words except thank you."

"Don't thank me. I owed you. You healed me twice now so I still owe you another...let's just hope it's never needed."

But it was needed, only his kind of healing couldn't help you.

Legolas had been silent the entire time and kept to himself. You understood his pain as it was a pain only you and him could feel. You went over to him and took his hand. "Legolas....talk to me. I need you. We need each other."

He slowly removed his hand from yours and his eyes darkened. "What I need is my father. Apparently though, you have all you need right here. You just said so moments ago. I do not need you. In fact...all of this...it is your fault. My father would be alive right now if he hadn't gone chasing after your psychotic mother all to prove his love for you that he always seemed he felt he needed to do because you always made him feel he was not good enough for you."

You gasped as he glared at you. Grief, you told yourself, was all this was and that he didn't mean it but it hurt like hell and he knew right where to hit you.

"Hey!! Do not speak to her like that!" Garrett snapped.

"Or what filth?? Get out of my way..." Legolas snarled with his nose flaring just like his father and stormed off as Garrett stepped aside and sarcastically gestured with his hand to go.

"Legolas!!" you shouted and chased after him. As you both came upon a back exit to the mountain stream, there stood a grotesque creature that you had never seen before and it was staring right at the Prince and then it charged him.

Legolas' reaction time was slightly impaired from his grief and he didn't get his arrow raised in time. The hideous creature swung his arm hitting Legolas so hard, slamming him against the wall.

Legolas NO!!" You ran and stood before the Prince who was barely conscious. Your love for him and Thranduil sent the fire shooting through your veins and out it came with no effort. A flash of blinding light struck the dark form, catapulting it through the air and setting it ablaze.

Legolas got up with a minor bloody nose and you both noticed an orc on a warg out by the dock that stopped to gaze at you both.

"Next time I need your assistance, I will ask for it." he snarked and took off after the beasts as horns began to blow. One was familiar. It was the Lothlorien guard that had remained in the shadows until needed. Haldir must have ordered them out and you could see why. The other horn you were unfamiliar with but had to assume it was Narcisse's army.

"Legolas!! Please stop!" you cried. You were scared to death he was going to get himself either severely hurt or killed with the state of mind he was in.

Garrett and Selene came running up and you spun around to them. "What the fuck is that thing I just killed and why are there orcs here??!!!"

Selene walked over to the smoldering atrocity and kicked it. "That my dear is a wendigo. And I am certain Jareth has conjured them up, along with the ghastly orcs and their wargs."

"A wen...what??" you sputtered.

"A wendigo. Powerful monsters that have a desire to kill and eat their victims. In most legends, humans transform into wendigos because of their greed or weakness." Garrett answered. "They are much like vampires, evil ones anyways. They can infect you if bitten or scratched even."

A clock in the room chimed, grabbing your attention. It was now 3 am. The witching hour. Jareth's wrath was now upon all of Chateau de Lioncourt.

"Time is short....." you whispered in fright. "We have to go now!! We must find the others. This is bad....like really bad!"

"I will let nothing happen to you or your child. I will die first." Garrett swore as he laid his hand upon your cheek.

"What he said." Selene vowed with a grin. You all then raced off with the vampires on each side of you.

The storm kept up as you all followed the blazing horns which led you to the front of the castle grounds. You could see a multitude of the glowing eyes of orcs lining the forests borders and hooded figures opposite of them that appeared to be more reapers, aka death dealers. You were right about the foreign horns you heard. There stood Narcisse in front of his squad with your father at his side and Haldir with his as Aragorn led. And then....there was Lestat with his own clan, Maharet, Marius, and Armand included, and even Michael. A vampire army. Your heart dropped as if you had fallen from a cliff, which you knew that feeling all too well as looking at Haldir just now reminded you of it in Rivendell. The sound of Aragorn's command caused you to almost piss yourself.

"Thranduil...." you whispered and began to cry.

The wind suddenly kicked in. A glow of orange lit up the sky with a scent of citrus floating through it. Aragorn promptly ordered the guard to hold.

There was Jareth without a drop of rain upon him. And at his side stood the cowardly Clover smirking at you. You wanted to rip her limb from limb but you needed her alive to find out what happened to your husband's body.

He gazed at you and you cringed. He was just as you remembered him from your dream that had actually been a memory. All that could be heard in the dead silence was his words that echoed across the grounds. "Come back Sarah...come back before it's too late."

You glanced at Garrett, then Selene in great perplexity, then at Julian who had a mixed emotions tangled on his face of rage and fear.

"My child, do not fear me. Did I not tell you I would see you soon? It would have been much sooner, but your whereabouts were of great uncertainty after...my brother expired and you underwent the protection of the Elvinking. And of course, your interfering mother. Good riddance to her, may she rest in hell." Jareth grinned.

Julian flew over to you. Just another power of his that you never knew he had. "Do not listen to him child! He is a demon and filled with lies."

"Oh little brother. it has been a long time yes? So not good to see you alive and well." Jareth teased.

"D..daddy? Why is he calling me Sarah?"

"My child...I do believe you are addressing the wrong person. Do tell her Julian, witch hunter and 7th son.... or shall I?"

Julian death glared him. "Watch yourself Jareth, for you do not want my wrath, or have you forgotten my warnings."

"Ok, what the fuck is going on here????" you reeled. It was obviously more than some sibling rivalry.

Jareth belted out a sinister laugh. "Is it not clear to you yet my child? Julian is not your father. I am....."

@redeemer46

youtube

Updated Masterlist

18 notes · View notes

ecoamerica · 24 days

Text

youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

6K notes · View notes

firstumcschenectady · 1 year

Text

“God is Love” based on Psalm 136:1-16 and 1 John 4:7-12

There is an old story, one that may have been created by some preacher along the way, that is well worth telling anyway.

A young man left home against his parents' wishes, feeling a need to fulfill his own dreams far from everything familiar. The disagreement over him leaving created a breech in the relationship and for many years there was no contact between them at all.

Some decades later the man's journey was going to take him through his hometown, and he wrote a letter to his parents on their farm:

On March 26th I will be on the 3PM train, and I would like to stop and visit you, but I do not know if I am welcome. If you would welcome me home, please tie a red ribbon on the old oak the train passes by. If I see it, I will depart. If not, I will continue on my way. - Your Son

When the day came, he situated himself on the side of the train that would see the old oak, but closed his eyes as the train curved around the track bringing it into view. He was terrified to find it empty, aware that his parents might not even still be living, and if alive might not have forgiven him.

When he finally opened his eyes, the tree was covered in red ribbons, from the trunk to the tippy top, a beacon of red welcoming him home.

At the risk of abusing my privileges as preacher, I want to tell you that I think there are two equally important morals of this story. I think it is really obnoxious to tell people what to take from a story or another piece of art, but alas, here we are anyway. I also wonder which of these you took as the obvious point of the story! (Or if it was another entirely)

One, lovely, take is the reminder that God is like that man's parents, always enthusiastically welcoming us home, even when we doubt our own welcome. This is an important point, and if you needed to hear it today, then thank God you did!

Another, lovely, take is the reminder to look around the world for love and notice when you see love that you are seeing God at work in the world. Imagine that son sharing his angst with a seatmate, and what the seat mate would have seen. The welcome wasn't for them, but to be witness to such an outpouring of love is a powerful thing.

Furthermore, I think there are expressions of love like that around us all the time. Maybe not as visible as a oak tree covered in red ribbons, but no less potent. Our new house is rather close to Oneida Middle School, and that means I get to see a lot beautiful interactions between youngsters, and sometimes even have some with them. I see kids throwing snowballs, and clearly everyone is having a blast. I see kids clumped up talking and laughing, and I've also see them quickly make space when they see me pushing a stroller. I hear shouts of greeting, and just as enthusiastic goodbyes, and last week for no reason I could discern I was handed a snowball and encouraged to throw it at an inanimate object, at which point I was cheered on. Universally, the youngsters are kind to our toddler, and quite often coo at him in the sweetest of ways.

Now, I'm not sure what the middle school years were like for you, but they were a low point in my life. I didn't fit in, I hadn't found my grove, my friendships were particularity life giving, and the experience of being an outcast hurt to the very core of my being. These youngsters seem so much more poised and put together than I was, but I suspect plenty of them are experiencing similar angst anyway. I'm sure many are struggling in many ways, and I just can't see it from my window or the sidewalk.

Yet, their poise, their presence, their companioning of each other, their kindness, and their quirkiness – I think – are actually healing some of those parts of me that are still aching from being their ages. And I'm inspired by them. I catch in them little glimpses of love and hope that remind me that God is good and that love is a potent force in the world.

I think we can find love if we are aiming to find it. I think we are more likely to notice it if we want to find it. And I think that when we seek it and when we notice it, the impact within us is HUGE. Paying attention to the impact of God's love in the world magnifies its impact in us and in the world!

1 John 4 makes some really important points, it is a chapter of the Bible that I often think about, and guide people towards. “God no one has ever seen. Yet if we love one another, God lives in us, and God's love is made complete in us.” That's a BIG DEAL. Sometimes I get rather annoyed with those who want to debate God's existence. This isn't because I think the answer is obvious, indeed I think LOGIC gives us exactly as many reasons to think God exists as to think God doesn't. Instead, it is because I think the question doesn't matter. If God exists, but just created us and now lets us be – then how is that different from God not existing? If God exists, but God's primary function is to judge us after we die, then what difference does that make in our lives (other than frightening us?)

I think the important question is: how do you understand God? And I LOVE 1 John's answer. God is unknowable, invisible, maybe even largely abstract. Which is hard, BUT God is also love and we can know, see, and experience God in love. Love is from God. God guides us to love. We should be known by our love. It is in our loving that God is known. We can make God more knowable, more visible, more concrete by ACTING in love.

And, even, I appreciate the line, “whoever does not know love does not know God” because I think it is true and I also think it is a great litmus test for people, for preachers, and for teaching in general. Don't trust what isn't based in love.

It may be that love has too many bad connotations or too little clarity for you, I am reminded that Rev. Dr. Andrew Driecter says that the word “compassion” works better for him than love, and feel free to substitute that in if it is better for you too.

There are, of course, a multitude of ways to nurture love and compassion within us! John Wesley encouraged us to think about them along two axes – individual to communal, and connecting to others to connecting with the Divine. We now have committees in each quadrant of that model :) since it makes sense that a church would be aiming at giving people experiences of love and the opportunities to share it.

Today, my request of you is pretty simple: pay attention to where you notice love this week! AND, if you want “bonus credit” on this assignment, share the answers with someone else.

May God help us notice what is already all around us!

Amen

Rev. Sara E. Baron First United Methodist Church of Schenectady 603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305 Pronouns: she/her/hers http://fumcschenectady.org/ https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

March 19, 2023

#progressive christianity #thinking church #fumc schenectady #schenectady #umc #rev sara e baron #sorry about the umc #first umc schenectady #pandemic preaching #God is Love

0 notes

inkykeiji · 3 years

Text

beautiful when the damage is done

part one | part two

characters: todoroki touya | dabi, todoroki natsuo

genre: smut laced with angst and a pinch of fluff

notes: part two of getting naughty with natsuo!! please please heed the warnings!! | title cred: sick thoughts by lewis blissett

warnings: 18+ minors dni, dubcon/noncon, sadism, punishment via overstimulation, pseudo-incest (stepcest), vaguely implied incest, emotional manipulation, a hint of degradation, toxic relationships, poly relationship, dom/sub dynamics, a LOT of crying (dacryphilia), slight size kink/size difference, rough sex

words: 4.6k

synopsis:

And you’re both reminded of how privileged you are, being the only two who ever get to witness this side of him, the only two who are fortunate enough to see the person he might’ve been if you stripped away years upon years of trauma and abuse, the person he truly is at the core of his soul, the person he was born as before he was forced to layer himself with thick, protective walls of aggression coated in indifference—and the person who he becomes as he sheds that armor, in the middle of the night when it’s just the three of you, the whole world having fallen away outside the bedroom door.

It’s musty, air thick with the haze of sweat and sex, saturated the smell of tears and cum, so potent you swear you can almost see it in the atmosphere of Touya’s room. Uncontrollable quivers course through your entire body, never-ending chills erupting across bare, damp skin that shines every time it catches in the dim beams coming from Touya’s desk lamp.

Your scalp is still sore from where Touya yanked you off of Natsuo—back in the living room, how many hours ago? It feels as though it’s been forever since then, memory murky and swimming as you try to think—one strong hand wrapped in your hair jerking you up with such force you nearly stumbled. The pain is dull, a throbbing ache that radiates fading waves of hurt along your skull.

It’s constant, though, brewing a headache that is equal parts agony and dehydration, and you wish to rub at the spot, to place your palm over it in a futile attempt to soothe the discomfort at least a little, but you can’t.

Because it feels as if your blood has been replaced with sand, dense and heavy as it clogs your veins, weighing your arms down and keeping them firmly locked around Natsuo’s neck, steadying you in his lap.

But the ache in your scalp is nothing compared to the burn between your legs.

You can feel it, your third orgasm, churning in the depths of your stomach as it builds, a blistering warmth furling into a tight, concentrated ball of fire. It’s almost sickening, now, the heat roiling inside of you as heavy as lead, wracking destruction on your body as tender muscles, already quaking from exhaustion, begin to tense once more, to coil and wind up the way a lithe tiger does right before it strikes.

“Nat-Natsuo, I can’t,” the words wobble as they spill from between clattering teeth, you head shaking sluggishly as fresh tears sting your eyes.

“Yes, you can,” he murmurs softly to you, gentler than he’s ever been before but refusing to slow his movements as he bounces you on his cock, concerned stone eyes searching your face while his fingers flex on your hips, readjusting their grip on the slippery skin.

“You better,” Touya spits from his place on his bed, peering down at the two of you with something akin to disgust, to derision, saturating his features. And it stings, blazing sapphire searing his glare into your skin much like how he had carved his name into you, years ago.

A wet sob hitches in time with Natsuo’s rough thrusts, has you choking on it, concentrated with thick saliva that sticks in your throat and forces your breaths to escape in wheezes, hands clasping tighter behind Natsuo’s neck.

Yet, despite the pain, there are still sparks of pleasure that accompany each catch of your puffy clit on Natsuo’s slick skin, flickers of lust interspersed with those excruciating spikes that shoot through your abdomen.

It hits suddenly, that third orgasm—you’re halfway through your punishment now, Touya reminds you—has your tightly shut eyelids springing open with a gasp, entire body freezing up in Natsuo’s strong grasp, a grunt falling from his chapped lips as he drives his hips to piston into your rigid body.

He follows only a few moments later with a deep groan that rumbles in his chest, body vibrating with the force of it as his thick cock throbs, filling your little cunt with spurt after spurt of cum that feels almost cool in comparison to your scalding insides.

Touya allows half hour breaks between each orgasm—a short refraction period for you and Natsuo to regain infinitesimal amounts of strength—and not a second more, he had spit after the second orgasm, cutting off your plea for just a few more moments of rest, because this is plenty of time, more than you need, really and you should be grateful he’s so generous.

By the time you’re due for your fourth orgasm, you can barely move, and Natsuo doesn’t have the arm strength to hold you up anymore, to force your hips to keep gyrating or to bounce you on his cock, his entire upper half spent.

“Lay her on the floor, then,” Touya instructs coldly, voice firm and void of any compassion, though it’s hard to miss the sadistic glint in his eyes, hard to ignore the way the corners of his lips quirk up in an ill-concealed smile.

The look Natsuo gives him is almost heartbreaking, a puppy looking up at its owner with its tail tucked between its legs, eyebrows knitted together so tightly they crease his forehead, a deep frown—no, pout—etched into his face as he gazes at his big brother, glazed stone eyes pleading.

“Nii-san, can’t we use—”

“No,” Touya cuts him off harshly, sapphire eyes flashing, and Natsuo flinches. “You’re fucking her on the Goddamn floor for all five—it’s part of your punishment,”

Natuso doesn’t argue, but his lips twitch, and his eyes blur, and his nose sniffles, and he gives his brother a curt little nod of understanding, head bowed in submission.

The hardwood is cold against your heated skin, and you exhale a hiss through gritted teeth as Natsuo positions you as gently as he can, one large palm cradling your head, the other positioned on your back, slight tremors running through his exhausted muscles as he reclines you.

A wrecked little whine pries its way past your lips as Natsuo pushes in again, face scrunching up as sharp, needle-like pinpricks shoot through your gut, your raw, sensitive cunt stinging as Natsuo’s cock reopens previous sutures, skin split further, wounds dug deeper.

The sound your skin makes as it scrapes against the hardwood from Natsuo’s clumsy bucks has all three of you cringing, a piercing squeal that only adds to the symphony of your sobs and Natsuo’s grunts, flesh inflamed and chaffed from being repeated rubbed against the surface.

It’s getting harder and harder for you to cum, even with the generous breaks Touya allows, sparks of pleasure faded to mere cinders now, each shallow drag of Natsuo’s cock causing both of your bodies to recoil, and it’s too much, too much.

“Please, nii-chan,” you beg in a tiny whimper, teary eyes flying to Touya’s face, partially shrouded in shadows as glowing sapphire gazes down at you in scrutiny. “S’enough now,”

“We’ve learned our lesson, p-promise,” Natsuo adds, nodding frenetically.

“P-Pinky promise, nii-chan, please, stop,”

Touya scoffs. “You wanted to cum, didn’t you?” he pauses, cobalt eyes darting between your faces, an eyebrow raising in question. “Well, now I’m allowing you to. Now you have my permission; the permission you knew you needed so bad, but refused to request,”

And it’s then that it dawns on each of you that he had heard the both of you, had heard the entire fucking conversation, while he was doing his work in the kitchen.

How could either of you thought that he wouldn’t? How could either of you been so fucking stupid? Nii-san knows everything—nii-san always knows everything.

“Please, please, we’re sorry, nii-san, we’re sorry,”

“We won’t ever do it again!”

The laugh that claws its way up Touya’s throat is soaked with ridicule, and he shakes his head, a gleeful little grin present on his lips, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing, as if it’s so ludicrous it’s funny.

“Wait, wait, wait—let me get this straight…you two wanted it so bad, and now you have the balls to complain when nii-chan complies?”

His voice is painfully apathetic, almost nonchalant in a way, as if it makes no difference to him even though it so clearly does, or you and Natsuo wouldn’t be shivering messes of tangled limbs on the floor.

Excuses begin tumbling from two pairs of lips, words stuttered and choked on and sandwiched between pleads and apologies, jumbling together in a mess of garbled, wet, desperate sounds.

“Enough,” Touya growls, and both voices cut off in an instant. “I don’t want to fucking hear it anymore! Keep acting like ungrateful little brats and I’ll make this punishment longer, I swear to God,”

But you can’t halt the words bubbling up past your lips, regardless of Touya’s threat, regardless of the fact that you know he’s deadly serious. They’re compulsive, automatic, almost instinctual in nature as you seek out comfort, hunt for solace and fragments of relief in the hulking man blanketing you.

“I-I don’t wanna anymore, Natsuo,” you’re weeping into his chest, hot tears leaking from the corners of tightly shut eyes, streaming down the sides of your head and into your hair. “I don’t wanna,”

“I know, baby, I know,” Natsuo murmurs, though his bottom lip is beginning to tremble.

“Make him stop, Natsuo, make nii-chan stop,”

“I can’t,” his voice breaks on the word, facial features saturated in concern, in fear, wincing as if it physically pains him to deny you. “You know I would if I could,” he nearly whimpers, and his eyes search yours almost frantically, as if he’s begging you to understand. “But I can’t,”

But your head is shaking as you wail louder, fingers weakly curling against his skin, nails pressing into the flesh of his shoulders and clinging to him.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Natsuo’s saying, the words cracking in his throat, voice hoarse. He pauses, clearing it twice, eyes closing briefly as he sighs out a slow, deep, stammering breath, gathering his strength. “One more after this, princess,” he begins as his hips start to speed up their rutting, procuring a yelp from you. “That’s it, jus’ one more after this one. C’mon, we can do it,”

“No, no, no,” you chant as pretty, gleaming tears roll down your face. And you can see it, the potent guilt swirling in his gunmetal eyes, from the way his pupils expand as they focus on the salt water sullying your cheeks, from the way his cock twitches despite it all. “I don’wanna, I don’wanna, stop, Natsuo, stop,”

His motions pause immediately, the moment the word falls from your lips, but he starts up just as quickly as Touya dictates from his spot on the mattress above.

“Stop, and I’ll add another two,” he promises, ruthless and unforgiving. Chills skitter along your glistening skin, erupting across your damp body at his tone. Both of you know he isn’t bluffing, that he’ll add as many orgasms as he wants to, and that he’ll continue to pull them from your fatigued and worn-out bodies one way or another, even if he has to do it completely by himself.

“Focus on me,” Natsuo instructs gently, though there’s a sense of urgency in his voice, a frenzied need to calm you down before Touya loses his patience completely. “I’ll take care of it, okay? Just focus on me, look at me,”

So you do, blinking the bleariness from your gaze as you direct all of your attention to him. And although there’s that ever-present guilt still swimming in his irises, in his unshed tears, there’s also love in his stare, so much love it’s nearly overflowing, overpowering the remorse and instilling a deep sense of comfort in your stammering chest.

Because at least you’re not alone in this; at least you have each other—each other to find comfort in, to cry and whine and beg with, to protect.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he’s whispering over your wails like a broken mantra, those tears that have been glazing his eyes, that have been collecting behind his lashline, finally beginning to fall.

His hips speed up, as fast as he possibly can as he gathers every last ounce of power and manages to wring another one out of you, another one out of himself, sore cunt clenching painfully around him, your fourth orgasm feeling as if it’s been punched out of you, despite the fact that Natsuo’s thrusts have been shallow.

And by the time your fifth orgasm rolls around, you’re nothing more than Jell-o in the shape of a human, though Natsuo’s not much better, barely able to move other than the uneven rutting of his hips, a crushing deadweight on top of you as his weary hips give pitiful little thrusts, pubic bone dragging across your hypersensitive clit, every tug against it ripping another ragged cry from your throat.

But you’re having trouble, both of you struggling to do anything other than feebly hump against each other, unable to secure enough strength to pump—to milk—that final orgasm out of yourselves, sniveling little protests punctuated by wrecked sobs leaking from your mouths.

Touya’s pissed—beyond pissed—sharp jaw clenching while seething insults burn his tongue and slice your skin, berating the both of you for being so fucking weak, so fucking pathetic, because he’s forced more orgasms out of the both of you before, so why is this so fucking difficult?

Touya’s too stubborn, and he refuses to end the punishment early irrespective of the fact that you’re both entirely drained, reminding you in a callous voice that you each must cum five times before it’s over while he aggressively roots through one of his desk drawers, snickering to himself when he finds what he’s looking for, hooking his index finger in it and pulling it out.

And the look on his face when he turns back to face you and Natsuo is positively petrifying, idly swinging the cockring around on his finger as his head tilts slightly, observing the both of you with that sharp smile you’ve come to know so well on his lips, eyes glittering with pure delight, features lit up with his own personal brand of sadistic excitement.

Natsuo starts to say something, voice forming around a word that sounds suspiciously similar to no, but he catches himself before it fully leaves his mouth, pressing quivering lips together tightly as he stares up at his brother with wet eyes.

Touya chuckles, raising an eyebrow with that trademark lopsided smirk, as if he’s challenging Natsuo to dispute him, to resist.

He doesn’t, of course, because he never would, but he does finally allow full shuddery sobs to escape his chest, Touya’s condescending shh’s and hush, now’s doing nothing to calm them as he slides the cockring on.

Natsuo nearly howls when Touya turns the tiny, pretty pink device on, his entire body jerking with that initial vibration.

“The faster you cum, the faster I’ll take it off,” Touya says calmly over the stifled little shrieks Natsuo’s continulously trying to swallow back down, nodding his understanding as he repositions himself between your thighs, holding his vibrating cock in one massive palm as he guides himself back into you.

And you want to tell him no!, don’t!, stop!, you want to shove him off, to kick and scream and beg and cry, but your heavy head sluggishly lolling from side to side seems to be all you can manage, words snagging in your throat, nothing more than incoherent babbling leaving your lips.

Because you can barely speak, barely think, barely breathe, vision fading in and out of focus as Natsuo rocks stuttering hips against yours, warm salt water rolling down the bridge of his nose, dripping onto your cheeks and mixing with yours. You’re both more each other, more one than two separate entities now, spit and cum and tears so interspersed you can’t tell which belongs to who anymore, limbs and fluids, thoughts and sounds, endlessly flowing into one another.

“Tell her to behave, Natsuo,” Touya barks, though there’s twisted amusement dancing in his eyes as he observes. “Tell her to finish the fucking punishment,”

And Natsuo, ever the perfectly trained pet, does as he says immediately.

“We can—We can do it,” Natsuo keens from above you, full body shudders wracking his hulking form, alabaster hair clinging to his forehead in uneven clumps, drenched in sweat as he forces words through his own bawling, hips grinding into yours. “We can do it, let’s be good for nii-san, yeah? L-Let’s make nii-san proud—c’mon, you wanna make him proud, don’t you?”

You do—of course you do. You never want anything else. But…But you’re not entirely sure you can, hiccupped sobs peppering your slurred words. Unconsciousness tugs at the edges of your hazy mind, whispers enticing promises of repose and relaxation as weighted eyelids begin to sag.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Natsuo cuts you off gently, shaky knuckles brushing against your cheek in a poor imitation of a caress. “I’ll do it, baby, I’ll do it,”

You don’t even remember cumming a fifth time, only a feeling of hot coals smoldering in the pit of your stomach, but you must have, because then Touya’s hooking his arms under Natsuo’s and dragging him off of you, propping him up against the side of the bed and kneeling as lithe fingers remove the toy from his cock.

And the sense of relief that seeps into your body and floods your veins is so intense it almost feels like a rush of adrenaline instead. You did it. You both did it. Finally, it is over.

Or so you and Natsuo thought.

—

Spikes of fear piece through his heart as Natsuo blearily watches Touya gather your limp body in his arms, hauling you up with a soft grunt.

And it’s astounding, the way you still curl into him, still seek that familiarity, that solace, in his chest, mumbled out honorific padded by hitched half-sobs as you cling to him. It’s astounding, because even after all he’s done to you, after everything he just put the two of you through, you will crawl back to him each and every time, over shards of glass on your hands and knees with his name on your lips—his name in devotion, in submission, in love—without a single question asked.

And Natsuo realizes that he would, too.

The thought inspires a bittersweet taste to settle on his tongue, like sticky toffee and black coffee, alien feelings swirling in his chest, clashes of consoling blooms of warmth and spiky shards of ice.

But Natsuo doesn’t have time to meditate on his newfound emotions, your faint pleas recapturing his attention.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Touya murmurs, large hands repositioning you.

And he really does sound sorry, even though Natsuo knows he isn’t.

“Wh-What are you…”

“It isn’t over yet,” Touya says simply, though the smile stretched taut across his face is severe, terrifying, azure eyes sparkling in merciless amusement at the horror that shows on Natsuo’s face when he realizes, eyes widening as they fill with thick tears again, bottom lip jutting out into an involuntary pout as panic surges through his veins.

His heart palpitates violently against his ribcage, tongue turned to cotton as worry signs itself in the creases of his forehead.

“Nii-san,” Natsuo begins cautiously, trying in vain to keep his voice steady. “I don’t think—I-I mean, is that really necessary?”

“Of course it is,” his big brother responds without looking at him, preoccupied with folding your lifeless limbs up, knees bent and pressed to your chest.

“Why?” the word slips out without Natsuo’s permission, grey eyes widening in shock as he swallows thickly, shaking his head a little as if to say I didn’t mean to!, though Touya doesn’t seem to mind.

“Because the overstimulation was her punishment,” Touya glances over at him, the amusement dancing in his eyes turned vicious as his smile stretches wider—so wide Natsuo’s surprised it doesn’t split his face clean in two—cruel and brutal. “This is yours,”

Natsuo isn’t quite sure he understands, brain doused in a thick fog and having difficulty grasping the concept, the knowledge of what his nii-san truly means turning to dense, ashy smoke any time he tries to grasp it, metaphorically slipping through his fingers.

But then you’re speaking again, and Natsuo’s head whips towards you, chest tightening at how completely wrecked you sound.

“No, please, no more,” the words gurgle in your throat, escaping as nothing more but jumbled, spit-soaked whines that have Touya chuckling as he shoves his cock into your aching little hole.

“You’re in no position to be making demands, princess,” he speaks through a patronizing pout, a mockery of your own expression, voice syrupy and supercilious. “If you weren’t such a needy little whore always desperate for a hard cock to grind on, this wouldn’t be happening,”

The words are spit in the same demeaning tone Touya had been using earlier, the same demeaning tone he always uses, and Natsuo’s powerless to stop the words flowing from his mouth.

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart,” he reassures you, though his voice cracks under the emotion, words wavering as his chin trembles.

“You’re right,” Touya muses, slight breathlessness the only indication that he’s railing the absolute life out of you. “It’s yours,”

And suddenly, Natsuo understands what nii-san had meant when he said this was his punishment.

Because he’s right.

It’s got to be the harshest punishment Touya’s ever bestowed on him.

Because it’s hard to watch the way your lax, abused body is forced to just take it, Touya’s thrusts so rough they jostle you up the mattress; even harder to hear as you bawl and beg and scream, and Natsuo’s nose twitches as the threat of new tears climbs up his throat, lodging in the column as he fights against them.

He feels sick, like some sort of depraved pervert, for the weak twitches his cock gives, for the faint embers that flicker in the pit of his stomach, igniting a dull blaze as he watches, almost entranced by the grotesque situation unfolding in front of him. He feels sicker, knowing that both of those would be stronger, much stronger, had Touya not forced him to fuck his entire soul into you.

And Touya—Well, Touya’s been hard from it all—high from it all—the whole time, and Natsuo can almost see the sheer power flowing through his veins, an aura that envelopes him, that radiates off of him in intoxicating waves, that licks at his skin like flames of blue fire. Natsuo bets—no, knows— it’s better than any drug Touya’s ever taken.

Protests marinate on his tongue, bitter and acidic, pleads of stop and enough scraping against the walls of his throat as he forcefully swallows them back down, emitting pathetic little whimpers in their place.

Because he knows if he starts, Touya will only make it worse for you, so he suffers in silence, readily agreeing with Touya every time he reminds Natsuo that this is all his fault and neither of you would be in pain if Natsuo could’ve just kept it in his fucking pants for a few minutes longer.

It hurts, because it’s true, nii-san’s words sending thick, piercing stakes spearing through Natsuo’s heart, through Natsuo’s very soul, straight to the core of his body. Acrid bile climbs up his throat as Touya’s moans mingle with your sobs, so exhausted that they’re barely more than little wheezes at this point. It’s abundantly clear that Touya doesn’t feel a shred of remorse, and that makes Natsuo feel even worse—if only he had said no, if only he had waited and asked, if only he had been stronger, you wouldn’t be suffering.

The tears collecting in the column of his throat sprout talons and claw their way up, past his steadily weaking resolve, prying their way through his lips in the form of jagged sobs.

It’s magnificent, really, the way Touya can render Natsuo a snotty, shivering mess with only a few choice words. And Natsuo—Natsuo only ever cries in front of his big brother, only ever cries for his big brother, full-on weeping that slashes through his sputtering chest, coughing around and choking on his own sobs of nii-san, I’m sorry!

But it ends eventually, finally, Touya tearing one last orgasm from you, gentle words contradicting his cruel, ruthless actions, murmurs of come on baby, just one more, one more for nii-chan. You can do this for nii-chan, can’t you? You can be a good little girl for me and cum one more time, right? lingering on his lips

And somehow, you find the strength to obey, to be his good baby, because you always do, entire body convulsing with a raspy shriek of the honorific, Touya praising you only moments later as his hips still and his cock pumps you full.

—

It’s cute, really, how fucked out the two of you are. Touya thinks you’re both so beautiful when you’re like this, with glassy eyes and tearstained cheeks, lashes clumped together with residual water and swollen faces stained with streaks of salt, all dazed and fucked and stupid for him, from him.

Natsuo’s doing better than you are, of course—Natsuo wasn’t subjected to being fucked again. But Natsuo still needs to rest, Touya softly tutting his tongue with a disapproving shake of his head as Natsuo attempts to aid him with your aftercare, movements clumsy as he stumbles to his feet, inept and awkward as he blunders towards you.

“No,” Touya’s large hands wrap around his younger brother’s shoulders, halting him, steadying him, forcing Natsuo to look at him. “You rest,” he instructs sternly, guiding Natsuo back to his previous spot and delicately depositing him onto the desk chair. “I’ll get to you in a minute, okay, Natsuo-kun?”

Natsuo hums out an affirmation, eyes closing briefly as Touya’s fingertips affectionately trace the curve of his cheek, palm patting it once.

It’s in moments such as these, nights after hours and hours of extreme punishment, that Touya automatically, perhaps unknowingly, slips into Big Brother mode, and you’re reminded of the age gap between them.

Because even though Natsuo’s bigger than Touya, taller than Touya, beefier than Touya, he looks so tiny under his older brother’s protective gaze.

You both must reek terribly, covered in drool and sweat and cum, must look like hot messes, strands of tangled hair saturated with salt and sticking to your cheeks, but your Touya-nii is still right there regardless, whispering the sweetest affirmations and the tenderest praises to the both of you as he wipes each of you down with a damp cloth infused with lavender, telling the both of you how good you did, how proud you made nii-san, how pretty both of you are.

Nimble fingers spend a decent amount of time rubbing soothing circles of moisturizing cream into each of you, your most sensitive skin rubbed raw, aching and puffy from such intense maltreatment, before Touya-nii dresses each of you in his softest, comfiest clothes, steady stream of pure, unadulterated love never stopping as it pours from his lips.

You’re all each other need, after all; because he loves you both more than he could ever put into words—and you each love him back just the same—and that will always be more than enough.

Touya reaches across your body, arm a pleasant, heavy weight as it rests on you, and runs slender fingers through Natsuo’s sweaty hair as you snuggle into your nii-chan’s chest, and Natsuo nearly mewls, nuzzling into his nii-san’s touch as Touya instructs the both of you to sleep, now, a film playing softly in the background as the three of you drift into unconsciousness together.

#todoroki touya x reader #dabi x reader #dabi smut #natsuo smut #todoroki natsuo x reader #AAAAAAAH jesus finally #this is A Lot lol #tw:incest #tw noncon

1K notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 3 years

Text

God of Thunder - Kinktober 9

Title: God of Thunder

Square Filled for @marvelfluffbingo: Soulmate au

Kinktober Special: Keraunophilia

Summary: He set his eyes on you. You want to keep him waiting…

Ship: Alpha!Thor Odinson x Omega!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: angst, language, chasing, chasing, outdoor sex, light smut, unprotected sex, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, implied claiming, soulmate au

Word count: 1,3 k

Kinktober 2021

Marvel Fluff Bingo 2021

Divider by @writeyourmindaway

He’s coming for you. The day has finally come. The moment you have been waiting for for the longest time.

Since you laid eyes on the alpha for the first time, you wanted him to break, to chase after you, and lay claim on your body and soul.

It was a difficult task to not only get his attention but to keep it too. Alphas are easily bored. They want passion, sex, and the chase, but no responsibility.

Thor is a cocky alpha himself, an arrogant one. All the omegas seem to always seek his closeness. He had plenty of them, loves to show off his latest fling only to lose interest a few weeks later. Or days. Or hours. Depends on the omega.

No wonder he has a way with the ladies. Thor is a tall and potent alpha out of this world. A half-God himself. He rules thunder and lightning and likes to give any willing omega a good show.

You hide behind a large tree in the forest. You chose this place, not the alpha chasing after you, and it makes you smile.

His deep voice calls your name now, sings a song of lust, power, and need.

“Omega, my sweet dove,” he purrs, sniffing in all directions to catch your scent. “Come to your mate. We are meant to be, Y/N. The all-father said we must unite soon.”

“No,” you poke your head around the tree to glance at the tall man. He’s an impressive sight. Broad shoulders, strong hands, and thighs you’d like to ride one day too. “I will not be one of your random omegas.”

“OMEGA,” he’s breathing heavily, and you can’t deny your eyes drift toward the impressive bulge in his pants. “Come here and be good. I will be gentle, little one.”

You smile to yourself when the alpha slowly walks toward your position. He tries to approach you as carefully as possible, but you already dash toward a clearing, giggling at his pained groan.

“Last warning, Y/N,” he growls like a feral wolf now. “I will feel you around my knot tonight, and no one is going to stop me from taking you.”

“Rude,” you scrunch up your nose at his crudeness. “How can you talk like that to me? I’m your chosen omega and soul mate. You shouldn’t be so—”

“Aw, sweet girl,” Thor runs after you, tries to capture you. “You will be mine tonight. Don’t deny me!”

“Nope,” you squeak when he almost touches your back with his fingertips. “No man will ever tame me. Not even you, God of thunder.”

“I will tame you, my wild beast,” he chuckles as you don’t have the slightest chance to get away from him. “The God of thunder can scent you, little one. Come here and give in.”

“I can’t,” it’s a matter of fact your stubbornness won’t let you give in. “I will not become a footnote of your legend. Choose someone else tonight and come back when you want more than a night full of lust.”

Thor doesn’t know you want to see him fight for his prize. There is no denying the god, but this doesn’t mean you can’t let him work hard for his pleasure and yours.

While you race through the usually silent forest, Thor picks up the pace. He runs faster, now chasing you for real. “OMEGA!” it’s a command.

His alpha voice lets a shiver run down your body, but you can’t give in now. If you let Thor have you that easily, he’ll forget about you in the morning. Just like he did with all the other omegas before.

He doesn’t let up. Thor smirks when you giggle behind a tree, ready to run away once again. You must admit, getting away from Thor is not an easy task, but you try your hardest.

He changes tactics. Instead of dashing after you, he tries to slowly sneak toward you, using his alpha voice to lure you in.

His scent hits you out of a sudden and you feel your legs give in.

You stop in your tracks for a second to find orientation. Mistake. He tackles you the moment you try to start running again. “I’ve got you, sweet dove.”

“Get off me,” you wiggle underneath the tall alpha, but it’s no use. He’s strong and heavy, presses your smaller body into the muddy ground. “I’m warning you, Thor.”

“You’re mine. Meant to be my mate,” you struggle against his strength, fight his dominance. “Stop wiggling, mega.”

“I’m not one of your one-nighters, God of Thunder,” you squeak when he bites your neck, not deep enough to break the skin but to make sure you know he wants to claim you. “Don’t you dare to touch me!”

“I will show you how much I want you,” he leaves you, takes away the warmth of his body to tower over you. “Look at me, Y/N.” you roll onto your back to watch him lift his hand to the sky. It almost looks like he touches the stars when he sends lightning to the ground.

“Thor,” you whimper, feeling your panties dampen. Something about the way he looks at you while thunder and lightning illuminate the night sky makes you want to give in, no matter if he makes you his mate.

“Little one,” he watches you get up to touch his chest with trembling hands. “Give in and I’ll make you mine. Be good now, Y/N.”

“My king,” you whisper, mesmerized by his intense gaze and the pure energy running through his body. “I’m yours.” You slide the thin robe you wore tonight to lure Thor in down your shoulders, let the fabric pool around your ankles.

“So beautiful,” he cups your cheek, gently running his thumb over your lips, “and all mine now,” his lips press a surprisingly soft kiss to your lips whilst one of his large hands palms your breast. “You are going to look so pretty with my mark on your neck.”

“I will,” you reply, looking up at Thor in adoration, but a smirk on your lips, “as your queen and mate.”

Thor becomes impatient, wants to mate you right here, under the sky in the mud. He growls at your words, hands pawing at your flesh. “You’re mine.”

You end up in the mud, the God on top of you. How his clothes ended up on the ground is lost to you, but this doesn’t matter now. He’s nudging your thighs apart to slip the tip in.

“Fuck,” you moan as his girth slowly splits you open. While you claw at his shoulders, he wiggles his hips to slide deeper into you. “Thor.”

“It’s alright, dove,” he purrs, nose buried in your neck to inhale your scent deeply. “Just let me in.” you cry out his name, nails biting deep into his flesh when he snaps his hips against yours to fill you completely. “So good for me.”

The rest of the night is a mixture of your bodies grind against each other, dirty promises, and Thor’s voice telling you all the things you want to hear. “You will be my perfect mate.”

“I hope you will be a perfect mate too,” you wrap your legs around his waistline to cage the alpha inside your body.

He’s determined to make you fall over the edge, but you want him to admit he wants more than your body.

“I will,” he promises against your lips as his hips begin to move faster. “Now, open up for me, dove.”

“Just as I thought,” Thor runs his hand over your back, tickles your skin with his fingertips. “You look pretty with my mark on your neck.”

“Hmm…,” you let him wrap you in his arms, give in for tonight. “My mark on your neck will look even prettier, alpha.”

“What?” he grunts in your neck.

“We will get there, Thor,” you pat his hand. “Don’t worry, alpha. I know how to tame a wild beast. You will get used to having an omega.”

“Oh, sweet omega,” he whispers in your ear. “I can’t wait…”

Tags in reblog.

#marvelfluffbingo #marvelfluffbingo2021 #thor odinson #thor odinson x you #thor odinson oneshot #thor x reader #Smut #kinktober day 9 #Kinktober 2021 + 14 k celebration

389 notes · View notes

that-gay-jedi · 2 years

Note

Who's your favorite star wars character and why are they your fav?

Thank you for sending me my first ask! It's definitely Anakin but the WHY always says more than the who or what :)

So.

Partly I just. I really like villains, fallen heroes, monsters, antagonists and baddies in general, specifically I feel so connected to them all because their stories are never THEIR stories, and that's something that due to my own upbringing and probably some of the marginalized demographics I belong to I feel in my bones.

From a writing perspective there's the satisfaction of seeing a complex, dynamic and well-studied character, especially someone who has both literally and mentally worn so many faces and in a way has lived many different lives. There's some kind of incredible emotional alchemy that happens when I try to reconcile TPM Ani with Vader, or Vader with ghost Anakin, etc.

And then there's how the PT so admirably invokes elements that made classical tragedies from Greek to Shakespearean great and then makes them so digestible to our contemporary sensibilities. Anakin's downfall is a narrative that tilts on all these axes of Choice and Fate, of Virtue and Fault, and of our ordinary human lives and the cosmos and all the messy ways they mix. That tragedy element is in turn very well served by how the OT managed to create a mythos so popular that people forget it's scifi (AND I happen to love scifi, so there's that).

Aesthetics, like DEAR GODS the aesthetics. I dunno I've always had some kind of gender thing for tall pretty men with a certain aura and it gives me gender euphoria to watch him sweeping around in flowing robes looking dramatic. I grew up in a time and place where secondhand gender euphoria was almost the only gender euphoria people like me ever got, so I derive a deeply personal sense of comfort and fulfilment from engaging with the aesthetics of RotS Anakin and any character who hits me in a similar way.

Even though I never saw *ANY* Star Wars content at all until 29 there's this element of how much my younger self would have loved Anakin, like, edgy moody millenial me who was actually using those stereotypes about mall goth teen angst as a way to wear my very real trauma in a relatively socially-safe if somewhat coded way and, by reducing its hiddenness, actually rob that trauma of some of its power and loosen its hold on my life.

And then with Anakin it's like. In a lot of ways his underlying emotional makeup seems so similar to mine in ways that are so painful and so healing to acknowledge, I just- his most Dark Side moments in AotC, RotS and TCW are so true to who I still have to work so hard every day not to be, not necessarily in their severity but in their overall flavour and direction. I so rarely get to see that in heroes OR villains, and the fact that he was both just-

That's not just darkness, that's *MY* darkness, to the point that if I can care about and admire Vaderkin then surely I'm capable of loving myself too, of seeing someone with all my most unattractive and deepest most toxic impulses as someone worth fighting for, someone who deserved better... even someone capable of redemption.

Luke saying "I'm a Jedi, like my father before me" while fully knowing who his dad is is some kind of potent antidote (that I didn't even know I needed) to the damage that both my personal traumas and the early exposure to media that villainized queerness, disability, and neurodivergence did to my psyche.

Relatability kind of comes full circle back to visual elements too. Anakin is shown crying so often and we never once get the slightest suggestion in the movies that he's any less of a warrior for it- nor any less of a man. In a society that both demonizes women and has gendered the hell out of how people experience and express emotions, I can't begin to describe how refreshing it is to see a male character, and one we're supposed to empathize with, shown breaking down so often in multiple ways. Strong and rapidly changing emotions, the outward expression thereof, fear, sadness and even an intense and painful desire for human connection are all disproportionately attributed to women, and shunned. And yet we have Anakin. That the terrifying gravitas of Darth Vader comes from that same person is a statement in and of itself.

Speaking of Vader's power, despite a lot of veeeeery problematic dimensions to how disability is portrayed in the SW universe, he remains one of the most intimidating fictional characters to have prosthetics that don't function identically to Anakin's original legs, which is to have had to *adjust* to an injury, and to have both such conspicuous adaptive equipment and such combat prowess that we the audience associate his medically assisted breathing primarily with a battle that could spell the end of all our protagonists. Having lost a chunk of my own mobility and acquired chronic pain, I find myself wishing for more characters who are never physically the same again, yet have a type of agency and power that isn't purely mystical/cerebral, nor indirect.

I'm sure there's more, but I'm gonna stop here and say thank you again for asking.

27 notes · View notes

lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Better Man. ( Taehyung x OC)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Rated 18 +

Post Divorce, Getting Back Together, Second chances, Angst.

Chapter 3 ~ The problem with marriage is this : it isn’t worth the pain of divorce.

Denial isn’t healthy.

But sometimes it helps you stay sane , at least long enough to get your act together. When you’re in denial, you kind of keep yourself together a bit. You process things a bit more slowly. Take your time examining the facts.

It helps you make a delayed but possibly more informed decision.

Impulsive decisions never end well.

So it’s good to stew in denial for a while ( a short while) and then slowly begin processing what happened, think about it, think how its gonna affect you and then make a choice.

Unfortunately for Taehyung and I... I wasn’t in denial.

Maybe I should have been.

The time between Taehyung turning up drunk and the me leaving the house was less than twelve hours. Taehyung showed up drunk and I just told him I was leaving. That we needed a break and I didn’t know when I’d be back.

Terrible choice.

In the first twelve hours, the hurt is so potent and strong , the wound so raw and fresh that you can’t think beyond the pain . Your instinct is to repay the pain, to retaliate and make the other party feel exactly what you’re feeling. So you think of the thing that would hurt them the most and you go ahead and do it.

Like move out of your shared home of eight years, take away the son he adored and possibly rip the ground right out from under his feet.

And then after the first twelve hours, reason begins to catch up.

I had wanted to go back.

I had wanted to go back to him but I was scared.

Scared that I was being weak.

That if I didn’t stick to the choice I made, Taehyung would forever see me as a pushover. That he would take it as some sick permission to do it all over again. That he’d just think I was too weak to walk out on him.

And i couldn’t have that. I couldn’t have him hurting me and not facing the consequences of it. I just couldn’t.

So I stayed away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I worked on the seventh floor of a high rise in Gangnam, probably a twenty minute drive from Taehyung’s agency. It was an electronic/ tech company that dealt with everything from mobile phones to home fittings . As the assistant director of Marketing I dealt with branding and keeping up the image of the company. Annual budgets, endorsements, campaigns and what not.

I was good at it and i enjoyed it . everyone agreed that i did a good job because the numbers spoke for themselves. But I think the main reason I got the job was because I was married to the biggest brand ambassador in the country.

“ I need the reports on consumer trends for this month and I want to meet with Social media team before lunch. There’s a drop in our web traffic and that needs to be fixed.” I told my assistant, accepting the hot coffee and muffin that he held in his hand before moving to the corner office, my strides faltering just a bit when i noticed that someone was already inside. The figure had his back to me but I could vaguely recognize the broad shoulders and muscular arms.

“Mr. Jeon’s been waiting for about ten minutes now.” Mingyu said with a smile and I nodded.

“That’s fine , I’ll handle him.” I waved my assistant off and moved to the door, unlocking it and stepping in.

“Morning, Jang Mi.” He smiled, eyes flashing with ill concealed delight and I inhaled to calm myself down. .

I could already feel a headache coming on.

“Jungkook.” I said curtly. “ To what do I owe this very early visit?” I glanced at my table finally taking the bottle of champagne in the small ice bucket.

“Thought we’d celebrate you finally being free.” He grinned.

Jeon Jungkook was handsome, intelligent , and annoyingly good at everything he did.

At 34, He was one of the youngest CFO’s in the industry, and everything he touched turned to gold. I didn’t report to him and he had zero reasons to be in my office at any given time. But , unfortunately he had never gotten that particular memo.

“I’m not in the mood, Jungkook.” I sighed, moving to the back of my desk and dropping my bag on the small ottoman on the side and my keys in the desk. I plugged my phone into the cable on the side and then went to open the blinds.

“Come on... You know how sick I’ve been of two years of hearing ‘ I’m sorry, I’m married.’ .... you’re gonna have to come up with a better excuse the next time i ask you out.”

“No. No is a whole entire sentence that you should be able to accept.” I said evenly, fixing the cushions on the couch only to have him plop down on them immediately after.

“One date. Dinner anywhere you like. i can fly you to Paris if you want.... Macua? Jeju Do? Tell me what you want and I’ll get it done. ?”

i stared at him.

“I want you to fire Kang Yeseul from the Social Media team.” I said with a shrug.

He frowned.

“The new girl? Why?”

“She’s been posting nudes that she took in my office when I was on leave last week. My name plate is literally visible.”

“Jesus fuck...these bitches get dumber by the minute.”

I couldn’t even deny it.

“I’ll take care of it.” He said swiftly. “ Anything else?”

“Web traffics gone down and I’m gonna find out why. It’s probably time for us to work out the budget for the Christmas Carnival. I think we should go for something new this time. If you can set up a meeting with all the department heads we can brainstorm a few ideas...”

“I can’t forget about that night.”

I froze.

God.

i turned around to stare at him as he lounged on the couch. If Kim Taehyung was the most handsome man I’d ever seen, Jungkook was definitely the second.

He was disconcertingly good looking and where Taehyung’s image was always the clean cut gentleman with the perfect character, Jungkook had a reputation as a bit of a delinquent. Simply because he had a penchant for leather jackets and liked to ride around Seoul on his motorbike on days off.

Which was ironical because in truth, Taehyung was far from a saint and Jungkook was relatively more put together

He was also a divorcee and a single parent. His daughter Jennie was easily the cutest two year old on the planet.

His wife and him had fifty fifty custody but she had cheated on him with his best friend. Jungkook had no patience for her. They had a very volatile relationship but he was fighting for full custody and rumor was that he would most certainly be granted it, soon.

A marathon runner , he didn’t drink or smoke.

Jungkook liked to paint and volunteered at an animal shelter once or twice a month because he loved dogs but couldn’t keep one because of his busy schedule.

So all in all , a pretty solid candidate if I was looking for a guy.

Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that I was completely and utterly done with relationships for the rest of my life, I would actually give the guy a chance.

But , it is what it is.

“That sounds like a you problem. “ I shrugged. “ It was supposed to be one night with no strings attached. And by string I meant awkward conversations three months later .”

Jungkook groaned and sat up straighter, legs spread and shirt sleeves riding up to show a very sparkly watch. Rich men and their vices. I smirked a little.

“Come on... its just dinner. I want to get to know you, that’s it.” he held his hands up.

“There’s nothing to know Jungkook. I’m actually more boring than i appear, which is saying something. I’m not going to be the girl in the leather jacket clinging to your waist when you’re joyriding that motorbike of yours through Seoul. That’s not me. I would hate something that”

He chuckled.

“Are you sure? You ever tried it?”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“That’s not the point.”

“I’ll buy you a jacket. Join me this weekend. We’ll go a ride. Then you can make a decision.”

I opened my mouth to argue when the phone rang. I grabbed it quickly.

“Hello?”

“This is Lee Taemin from the Advertising Department.”

“Yes?”

“We have a Mr. Jung from HYBE on the phone. They want to talk to us about a possible candidate for our Christmas Campaign.... “

I blinked, surprised.

“We haven’t even decided on a theme yet. “

Choosing the right actors to endorse stuff was usually the last step.

“I know but he’s saying they want to talk about Mr. Kim Taehyung as a possible candidate?”

I felt my entire jaw come unhinged.

I turned to Jungkook stunned. His eyes widened at the look on my face and he mouthed a ‘ What’

“Please tell him I’ll call him back in fifteen minutes.” I said quickly.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook demanded.

“Taehyung’s manager...he... he wants to make him the face of the Christmas Campaign.” I said dully, mind ringing. I was utterly stupefied.

Taehyung was the face of Gucci and Versace . He was so far out of our company’s league it wasn’t even funny.

Jungkook stared at me in disbelief.

“No.” He said quickly.

I gaped at him.

“What?”

“No... we can’t have that. He’s.. he’s obviously doing this to get back with you...”

I shook my head.

“that can’t be it. He’s the one who gave me a divorce. He’s the one who wanted to end it. “

It was the shock of what I’d heard. There was no other explanation for why I said that to Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook gave me a look.

“Really? But you wanted one too right?”

“Of course I did.” I lied easily, waving him off. “Anyway that doesn’t matter. We can’t say no to him, Jungkook. Our sales would skyrocket if we get him onboard.”

Jungkook swore.

“Fuck, you’re right. The Ceo will probably piss himself in excitement. You sure you’ll be okay with it?”

Jungkook looked worried.

“You forget that Taehyung and I are actually quite good friends.” I said gently.

He grimaced.

“That's just unnatural. If you can stay friends with an ex it clearly means that either you’re still in love with each other or....”He shrugged.

“Or what?”

“Or you never loved each other in the first place.”

I swallowed the remark hitting a little too close to home for comfort.

“Schedule that meeting Jungkook. We’ll come up with a campaign theme that would fit Taehyung’s image. I’ll take to Hoseok and Taehyung.”

“You’re going to call Taehyung?” Jungkook asked casually.

“Hoshi’s with him today. I’ll probably go over to his place after work and talk to him in person.”

“Lucky bastard. He gets to hurt you and yet still have you.” Jungkook said bitterly.

I rolled my eyes.

“He doesn’t have me.”

“Doesn’t he? Why else would you turn down dates with anyone who asks? its one date.. a dinner... If you’re not still hung up on your ex husband why wouldn’t you just go on one date with-”

I’d really had quite enough of it. I threw my hands up in sheer exasperation.

“Alright fine.” I yelled, “ I’ll go to dinner with you...can you just stop psycho analyzing my relationship with my husband?”

Jungkook’s smile told me that I’d been played like a fiddle.

“excellent. Go see your husband after work and I’ll come pick you up at eight.”

“What...no wait...”

“I know where he lives. Don’t worry about it. I’ll schedule that meeting and maybe after lunch we can go over the kind of budget you’ll want. Okay?”

I felt a little like I’d stepped into quagmire.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn’t go see Taehyung after work.

I didn’t have to.

An hour before I was due to finish my daily report, he turned up at the office with my son. My assistant let him in and I could only gape at him.

“What are you guys doing here?” I asked , completely thrown.

“Mama I had ice cream with strawberries and sprinkles in a hundred colors.” Hoshi looked excited, eyes shining the way they usually did when he was with Taehyung.

“That sound incredibly exciting....”

“We missed you mama....can we go again?” He said excitedly.

“I’m sorry honey, Mama’s a little caught up with work...”

“Why don’t we wait?” Taehyung said cheerfully, “ Mama likes blueberry scones so we can get those for her...”

I stared at him.

“Okay...” I sad carefully, staring him down. What was he doing really?

“Okay... Can I go see the fishies....” Hoshi waved at the large fish tank built into the wall in my office and Taehyung laughed, letting him down.

“Sure bud.. go see how many of the fish you can identify...” He said brightly.

“ Since when do you pick me up for blueberry scones after work?” I asked briskly and he shrugged.

“Let the kid be happy , Mia. I heard Hobi hyung already spoke to you.”

“What is that all about, Tae?” I said tiredly.

“All the other offers i got are out of Korea. I want to stay with Hoshi during the Holidays so i thought this way , we could spend some time together..”

“By we, I hope you mean you and Hoshi.” I said drily.

“Of course. I could’ve picked another mall or something but i thought it could be a good thing if we worked at the same place... we can keep Hoshi with us and there wont be all the commuting back and forth nonsense....”

I nodded.

“I suppose you’re right. “ I sighed. “But be warned, you’re probably not going to have a very exciting time.

“I’ll enjoy it nonetheless.”

I nodded.

“I won’t tell you how to live your life And I most certainly won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. My Ceo might just give me a huge pay raise for this. He’s been waiting for it since the time he hired me.”

Taehyung gave me a smile.

“I would have done it the minute you asked. You never asked.”

I shrugged.

“Like I said, I won’t tell you how to live your life.”

“Jang Mi?” The knock on the door made us both look up.

Jungkook stood framed in the doorway, jacket off and slung over his arms . He looked bigger than usual, muscles straining against his button down and hair mussed.

He stepped in casually, holding a hand out to Taehyung.

“The golden boy of Korea. in the flesh. A pleasure to meet you Mr. Kim. I’m Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook”

The pair of them shook hands and I felt that I would rather be anywhere in the world than there.

“ Nice to meet you Mr. Jeon.” Taehyung smiled politely.

“We still on for tonight?” Jungkook asked casually, turning to me with a bright smile.

This is why i hated men.

Taehyung’s eyes snapped to me so fast that i was sure he must’ve got whiplash.

“Sure. I’ll call you.” I said shortly.

“What’s tonight?” Taehyung smiled, face neutral and smile still in place but his eyes flashed and his voice carried a knife edge to it.

“Business dinner. We’re going over the budget for the Christmas campaign.”

“Oh... where?” Taehyung asked with the same smile and I frowned.

“We’ve not decid-”

“I thought I could cook for you. i make a mean steak dinner and I thought I could pick up a bottle of your favorite wine on the way. You have my address right? ” Jungkook smiled.

Taehyung went still next to me, his entire body taut .

“A little inappropriate for a business dinner, don’t you think?” he snapped.

Jungkook glared back at him, eyes narrowed.

“Well, you know what they say about all work and no play-” he began but I’d had enough.

“I think this conversation needs to end now.” I said loudly.

They both shut up but glared at each other.

“I’m gonna make a reservation at the Hyatt for tonight. I’ll meet you there at seven thirty. “ I said, glaring at Jungkook.

He nodded.

“Pleasure meeting you Kim Taehyung.” He nodded curtly at my ex husband before moving away.

The silence he left behind was pretty awkward.

“Bit too much of a douchebag than your usual type.” Taehyung said casually.

I groaned.

“Don’t start.”

“ I won’t if you don’t date him.”

I opened my mouth to argue but then stopped.

“Lets just get that ice cream ? “ I said tiredly. Hoshi reappeared from the inside room, looking excited and happy and I smiled despite my weariness.

I could use a little sweetness in my life after a bitterly exhausting day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s note : Feedback is welcome . Probably going to be a long , terribly angsty fic with a lot of pain for everyone involved. I still haven’t decided who ocs going to end up with so we’ll see... what do you guys think?

#taehyung smut #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fics #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic

149 notes · View notes

lucky-katebishop · 3 years

Text

I spent a month reading harry potter fanfics and here’s what I learned

So for the past three and a half weeks, I’ve been doing basically nothing but reading Harry Potter fanfics and now I kind of just want to talk about them. No one cares but future me will! I tend to get caught in obsessions fairly easily (for instance, two months ago was comic books and last month was video editing and then k dramas). I’m feeling like my Harry Potter obsession is fading which makes me really sad cause it was a fun ride. I went from Drarry to Hinny, time travel to alternate realities, obscuris Harry to Dark!Harry, MCU AUs to Doctor Who AUs. I must’ve read more than 50 fics.

I’ve learned that I hate Dumbledore

Snape makes for a great mentor but I will only like him with proper character development

also where did Snape being Draco’s godfather come from? I don’t think this was in the books? I’m not angry, just confused

I read a fic that was so sad that I was physically unable to finish reading it -- actually I read two of those, one of them was a DID fic and the other Voldemort adopted Harry

the Voldemort one is quite possibly the most tragic thing I have ever read and even though it’s been two weeks I still haven’t been able to recover -- I was only halfway finished too GOOD LORD

another fic I read that was so fucking depressing was a time loop situation where Harry literally couldn’t get out of and it ended tragically

obscuris Harry is interesting but I really only like the ones where Newt is actually involved but I couldn’t find any finished ones

I don’t like it when Harry’s appearance changes, it throws me for a loop

there was this one where Harry got sent back in time and his figure got disfigured and so he didn’t even appear like himself anymore

I just find it odd for Harry Potter not to look like Harry Potter, idk

I also have a headcanon that his hair is very curly rather than shaggy

I haven’t been able to find a fic where Harry goes back in time to the Marauders era and has the right amount of angst but the right amount of fluff

I’ve read some good ones where the Marauders travel to Harry’s time but like,,, it isn’t quite what I’m looking for? I’m gonna have to write it, aren’t I?

this doesn’t happen with irondad fics, literally everything you’ve ever wanted you can find it there

I read one where Harry did go back in time but she (fem!Harry) didn’t really interact with her parents or the Marauders that much, she became friends with Regulus instead

Regulus should’ve been in Gryffindor

I’ve not only read fics where Draco has been a Ravenclaw, Slytherin, but also a Gryffindor. I haven’t found one where he’s in Hufflepuff

I’ve read fics where Harry’s in every single house - the Ravenclaw one might be my favorite so far, it had to do with him going to a different timeline where there’s another Harry and he’s a major dick

Hufflepuff Harry one was funny, but it got distressing cause Dumbledore didn’t trust him and tried to get him expelled

actually the Hufflepuff one made my heart hurt cause Harry was put in the body of a Harry who isn’t the boy who lived and barely spoke and was basically like an even more traumatized Neville

Slytherin Harry is everything to me and he should’ve been in Slytherin

Ravenclaw Draco is something that can be so personal

I’m tired of reading Year One fics, I get it, there’s a stone, let’s move on

Year Four fics are my favorite however, there was one (which is my favorite) where Harry’s a necromancer and in the graveyard scene he calls corpses from the graves alive to help him get out of there it was so cool

I am partial to Harry/Draco but Harry/Luna is cute

there was a Pokemon Harry/Luna one that’s adorable and I’ve read it twice already

I like when there’s a ton of lore involved

especially Hogwarts lessons - like ancient runes can fucking get it, I love runes fics

there was an MCU AU one where I read Harry didn’t have his magic anymore, not as potent as it was, but he did have ancient runes

LISTEN I tried to get into Dark!Harry but after that Voldemort adoption one I can’t do it anymore, I will start crying literally right now -- he just wants to be fucking useful! He just wants to be loved! Is that too much to fucking ask for?

however Harry doing dark!magic but isn’t actually on the dark side is cool

Death Eater Spy Draco! It makes me distressed but also I am so here for it!

Jenkins if you’re out there I love you (if you get this reference I love you)

I read a ton of Avengers adopt Harry when he’s younger but I don’t care for younger Harry fics, I prefer when he’s a teenager and I don’t have to read the first few years at Hogwarts, it can get repetitive

Give me all the angst with Harry being a horcrux please, I’m living for the drama

Lily is not a fan favorite weirdly enough, when the Marauders are in fics she’s usually not there which is unfortunate because I just really want a good Harry/Lily bonding moment

one of the saddest fics I read was where harry, luna, hermione and neville find themselves in an alternate dimension where Lily and Remus are married and alive, James is a dick but has other kids, and every single person that had died in their world is alive

I don’t like it when there’s Ron bashing, he’s one of my favorites, but if I have to, I’ll read some of them

there was this Sherlock fic (listen, I went in fucking deep, it’s been a weird month) where fem!Harry is on the run from the Ministry because I don’t actually understand and Ron and everyone is out for blood for her

Eleventh Doctor/Harry is a pairing I was not aware of but I actually kind of love?

Master of Death Harry is fucking OP and I love him for that

mcu aus is something I never knew I needed

Holly Potter and the Midlife Crisis is fucking everything

So is On Punching Gods and Absentee Dads, I realized it was the same author when I read in the author notes that the author was going to some volcano convention thing and I was like this is way too niche for it to be a coincidence

I’ve read Tony is Harry’s dad, Loki is Harry’s dad, Harry is just weird friends with Thor, ones where Natasha is Harry’s aunt

listen everyone is related to this boy

I will not read a fic if it doesn’t involve Harry, he’s my boy, he’s my love, I care only about him and him only I’m so sorry

you know that meme where people say nobody’s favorite character is harry potter, the titular character? Well meet me! He’s my favorite!

in battle of hogwarts fics, Remus almost always dies. Why is that? Why do you guys hate him so much? It’s always half and half for Fred, I never know if he’s going to live or not

In all of the good fics I’ve read I saw in the collections area of ao3 the same collection and I was like! You get me!

if it says Gammily’s Bookshelf on the fic, it’s gonna be a really fucking great fic let me just tell you that right now

Parseltongue gets me so riled up, I fucking love Parseltongue, it’s so cool

there’s a reason I usually filter out non/c*n but I decided to let it flow and I ran into a few that fucking d e s t r o y e d me why do you guys read shit like this, it broke my heart

that being said I read one that was really nuanced and actually really good but it’ll never be finished and I’m very mad about that

Either we have a better understanding of how goblins could be utilized than JKR or we’re just ignorant of how powerful they can be

weird coincidence that I’ve read two completely different fics where Harry thought having a threesome meant kissing three different people

Dumbledore’s a bitch and I hate him, every fic I’ve read so far agrees with me

there is a person out there that is CARRYING the bucky barnes/harry potter pairing on their back and I hope whoever that is knows how much I appreciate them

remind me never to click on a fic that hasn’t been updated since 2015 ever again, C’est La Vie I will miss you so

this is just a fucking quarter of the harry potter fics I’ve read but thanks for reading if you did, let me know if you want to know some of the titles

124 notes · View notes

baepsaesbae · 4 years

Text

Heal Me, Kill Me Ch.4

Pairing— Kim Taehyung x reader

Genre— Vampire!Taehyung x Vampire Hunter!reader, ANGST, mild smut +18, comedy (i tried), fluff in this chapter

Warnings— Unprotected explicit sex, fingering, blood mentions, death,

Word Count— 6.9k (nice)

Summary— You’re one of the best vampire hunters in the world. That’s to be expected when your parents are the best of the best. Your life had solely revolved around ruthlessly killing vampires, making you a cold blooded machine. However, things take a turn once you meet Kim Taehyung, your latest target.

A/N— Huge shoutout to @dee-ehn for this beautiful banner! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, please let me know what you think! Things are starting to get spicy~

The chilly crisp air that once gently kissed your cheeks had transformed into a biting cold that gnawed at your bones. Dread began to settle in as Taehyung led you by the hand, blissfully unaware of the daunting job you’ve been tasked with. You knew you should have killed him right away, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were well aware of the consequences, and now it is time to face the repercussions.

Your jewelry was prepped and loaded with your special poison that consisted of neurotoxins from the deadliest animals. Pufferfish, scorpions, and king cobras were among the lethal mix. You had also laced your anointed silver dagger with the poison, as you would need every advantage you could get to combat Taehyung's strength.

“Would like some tea to calm your nerves, darling?” Taehyung asked sweetly.

“Yeah, that might help,” you shot him a meek smile.

Taehyung nodded and kissed the back of your hand before leaving you to make the tea. His sweet gesture made your heart sink. How could you possibly kill this man? The one and only person you’ve ever loved in your life? Well, even though he was not technically a person, no one had ever made you feel so loved before.

Taehyung quickly returned with hot tea and you gratefully let the cup warm up your hands. He pressed his cold hand against your forehead to check for any sign of illness.

“I’m fine, Taehyung,” you assured him.

“The air is getting colder. This is the opportune time for pestilence to strike,” Taehyung chided.

“Ok dad,” you rolled your eyes at him. God, you’re gonna miss this silly banter.

“I thought girls address their significant others by ‘daddy’ now?” he innocently asked, causing you to nearly spit out your drink.

“Some girls yes, but not in this instance. It’s more of a kink,” you explained.

“So was Freud correct in his reasoning?” Taehyung questioned.

“Well, yes and no. I don’t know. His theories are stupid and sexist. I hate that guy,” you concluded.

“I’m inclined to agree, he was rather odd,” Taehyung nodded wistfully.

“You act as if you actually knew him,” you scoffed, knowing damn well that he probably did meet him at some point.

“Of course not, that would be impossible. How old do you think I am?” he tried to joke with you. The subject of time and age always seemed like a touchy subject for him (and rightfully so).

“We’ve been over this. You’re probably centuries old or some shit. You always talk like some old timey character in a cheesy period film.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not necessarily,” you smiled at him.

You really should stop dragging this on. It’s only going to cause more pain. Well, maybe spending just one more day with him wouldn’t be too bad. Nothing you do now is going to avert the pain. You might as well make this final day count.

“Darling?” you asked after a moment of silence.

“Yes, my love?” Taehyung gazed softly at you.

“Can you cuddle me all day? And make me feel like the most loved girl in the world?”

“My darling, you are the most loved girl in the world. Nothing in this realm can ever diminish my affections for you,” Taehyung tightly embraced you.

His kind words made you shed a silent tear. You will cherish every last second you had left with him. And that you did. The rest of the day was spent bundled up together under the warm covers of his bed watching Peaky Blinders. You insisted that he finish all of the episodes that day (which was a silly notion to him, but he obliged nonetheless).

It was late afternoon by the time the show was completely binged, and now your stomach was growling relentlessly.

“Hungry?” Taehyung chuckled.

“I believe so,” you clenched your stomach.

“I’ll go whip up some quick sandwiches then. Would you like some tea as well?”

“I can make the tea, you just handle the food,” you ordered.

“As you wish,” Taehyung complied.

It was time. You brewed the tea as you normally would, making sure you acted as if everything was okay. Just like you did before, a quick motion was all it took to pour a lethal dose of your special concoction into Taehyung’s tea.

There was no turning back now. Taehyung happily brought the sandwiches to the table. You smiled at him, fighting to hold back tears. At least your last memory of him would be pleasant.

“I love when you make the tea, it always tastes better than mine,” Taehyung praised you as he brought the cup to his lips.

Your breath hitches as he takes a sip. Immediately his face contorts with disgust and he looks at you with hurt betrayal in his eyes. Your heart breaks as you hesitate for a second; your hand is gripped around the hilt of your poisoned dagger.

With tears streaming down your face, you lunge at Taehyung. He quickly evades you, your blade narrowly missing his neck. Just a scratch of your blade would spell out his doom. Taehyung coughs out as much of the poison as he could.

Again, you propel yourself at Taehyung, zeroing in on his neck. He grabs you by the back of your head and effortlessly flung you across the room. You crash into the wall, the impact knocking the wind out of you. In a split second, Taehyung was in front of you, pulling you up by your hair.

You tried to stab him, but your efforts were futile. He grabbed your wrist with such force that it felt as if it was about to shatter. The dagger falls to the floor and his hand moves from your wrist to your neck.

The pain in his eyes was too unbearable to look at. Tears welled at the bottom of his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak but couldn't find any words to say.

“I could kill you right now,” is all he managed to say.

“Then do it,” you say without any hesitation.

“Go to sleep,” Taehyung demands, his words laced with the most potent magic you’ve ever encountered. In an instant, you were in a deep slumber.

You wake up in an unknown amount of time later. Your hands and legs are tied up to a chair in the middle of Taehyung’s living room. The restraints are so tight that you couldn’t even squirm your wrists or ankles.

Taehyung was rapidly pacing back and forth in front of you. His puffy eyes indicate the waterfall of tears he must have shed while you were knocked out.

“Tae--” you tried to call out.

“Don’t,” Taehyung snapped at you, instantly shutting you up.

He was using his magic now, and there’s nothing you can do to combat it. You had no choice but to sit helplessly as you waited for Taehyung to speak again.

“Why? I thought we had something real. I would have never hurt you. Did I not show you that I am harmless?” Taehyung finally said as he imposingly stood over you, “You may speak. Tell the truth.”

“I was ordered to exterminate you by the VEC. Taehyung you have to believe me when I say I love you. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I regret ever doing it,” you cried.

“Why should I ever trust you again?” he scoffed.

“If I didn’t kill you they would just keep sending more and more agents. You already encountered some before me,” you kept trying to explain.

“I tried to tell the vampire hunting couple that I have not done anyone harm in centuries. I’m sure you’re curious as to how I satisfy my peculiar craving. I pay a very handsome sum to the local hospital, and in return they supply me with endless blood donations. No one is harmed in the process. But those people refused to listen to me. I didn’t want to hurt them, but they gave me no choice,” Taehyung recounted.

“Those people were my parents,” you said softly.

Taehyung’s harsh gaze softened. He didn’t know how to react. He reasoned that avenging your parents may have been a justifiable reason to kill him.

“I’m terribly sorry, ___. I did not want to hurt them, but they were belligerent. I did not have a single moment of peace while they were pursuing me. You must have thought I was a monster this entire time,” Taehyung’s voice cracked, and he turned to hide his face from you.

“No, Taehyung, not at all. I love you. I never really knew my parents, so as awful as it is to say, their deaths didn’t really affect me. I treated this mission like any other, but curiosity got the better of me. Taehyung, I’ve never felt more human than when I’m with you,” tears began to cascade down your cheeks.

Taehyung remained silent and refused to look at you.

“I foolishly thought that the least I could do was give you a quick painless death. I didn’t want you to suffer,” you continued.

“___, I have never known a greater pain than this betrayal. I was willing to give you the world,” he finally turned to you, revealing that he too was crying, “And I still am. I have not been so enthralled by another for as long as I can remember. I do not know what kind of spells you used on me, but I fear that they are unbreakable.”

“Neither of us used any magic on each other before this, Tae. I wish you killed me on the spot when you first saw me,” you wailed.

“And ruin the single most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen? I couldn’t bear to think of it,” Taehyung said softly, gently caressing your wet cheek with the back of his hand.

Taehyung picked up your chair with one hand and brought you to the dining table.

“I’m going to untie you. Please do not try to run away or kill me again. We both know you are no match for me,” Taehyung said sternly.

You nodded quickly, eager to get the restraints off. You obediently sat still after he tore off the rope that bound you to the chair. Taehyung took his place opposite of you. Silence filled the air as tension built. Finally, Taehyung slid his poisoned tea to the middle of the table.

“Since peace does not seem to be an option, I believe it would be best for one of us to die,” he stated.

You stare blankly at him.

“Or perhaps, we could run away together and never look back. I can forgive this little infraction if you can forgive me for my deceit. We were both keeping secrets, and in the end it only harmed both of us,” he continued.

“We both know that can’t happen. The VEC would hunt us down relentlessly,” you disagreed.

Before he could react, you grabbed the cup and consumed its contents in the blink of an eye.

“___! What are you doing!?” he yelled at you, leaping across the table to smack the cup from your hands.

“I have a tracker in my bloodstream, Taehyung. They’ll always be able to find me, and we will never know peace. At least this way, you can flee and continue to live out your life,” you smiled weakly.

It won’t take long for your body to become paralyzed. After all, this was meant to kill vampires, not humans.

Taehyung cradled you in his arms, clutching you close to his chest. He wept over you as your body began to stiffen. Your cognitive abilities will remain intact until the very end. You watched as Taehyung’s heart broke for the second time that day.

“You fool. I don’t care if they keep coming after us. It would all be worth it if it means that I can have you by my side,” he cried as he cupped your cheek.

It was evident that the poison had begun running its course. You couldn’t reply nor could you move any part of your body. Only your eyes could convey your sorrow. Taehyung leaned down to plant kisses on both cheeks before gingerly placing one more on your still lips.

He picked you up bridal style and headed for the door. He walked along the trail on which you used to skip alongside him. The chirping birds that once greeted you were eerily quiet now. The evening dusk hour made the trees cast long spooky shadows along the path. The lake comes into view, but now it looks menacing as fog rolls along the water.

“I wish I didn’t have to do this, ___,” Taehyung said somberly.

You couldn’t say anything, but your eyes expressed your deep heartache.

“Don’t look at me like that, love. It’ll only make this harder,” Taehyung set you down gently on the edge of the dock, “I loved you, you know. I trusted you.”

Taehyung bent down to give you a final kiss. You could feel his sorrow as his cold lips pressed against yours. After parting, Taehyung began to sing. Tears began to roll down your cheeks. Of course, you were crying because you didn’t want to die, but also because you loved Taehyung’s voice so much. It was probably the one thing you’d miss most from this world. Besides Taehyung himself, of course.

“Have I lost myself? Or have I gained you?” Taehyung’s beautiful voice carried through the air.

Taehyung placed you into the lake on your back. You floated for a few seconds before your legs began to dip deeper into the water. Now completely immobile due to your poison, you had no choice but to drown peacefully.

“Please don’t say anything. Reach my hand out to cover the mouth,” Taehyung sang, his eyes never leaving you.

The water engulfed you as your head finally sank below the surface. Taehyung’s voice began to fade away as your lungs filled with water. Is this what your dreams have been warning you about? Have you already seen your own demise? None of that matters now, as the dull light from above the water gets further and further away.

Everything fades to nothingness as the water swallows you whole. Your vision, hearing, and consciousness slip away. Nothing but the frigid lake can be felt now.

Is this really how you’d go? Maybe you deserved it. You did attempt to kill the love of your life. You couldn’t help but be thankful for the time you spent with him.

Water fills your lungs, and you’re certain that your time has finally come. For being raised as a vampire hunter, you managed to stretch out your life expectancy. You closed your eyes for the last time as you sunk further towards the bottom of the lake.

Suddenly a warm light caressed your cheek. Your eyes fluttered open as you desperately gasped for air. All of your senses flood back and it’s incredibly overwhelming. There’s an unbearable white light that temporarily blinds you. Loud indiscernible sounds cause you to crumple to the ground. Soon the loud noises turn into a muffled tone that you can’t quite make you. The light begins to fade away as well.

You finally open your eyes once again, and are shocked by what you see. You’re in a lush garden, surrounded by gigantic trees and beautiful flowers. Birds can be heard chirping overhead.

‘Is this heaven?’ you thought to yourself.

“Not quite yet, child,” a voice boomed from above.

The sudden response made you jump. You looked around to try and find who responded, but to no avail.

‘God…?’ you thought.

“You flatter me, little one,” the voice chuckled.

The voice wasn’t as loud, but was now much closer. It honestly even sounded a little familiar. You turned around to see a giant figure looming behind you. Flowing golden robes elegantly wrapped around the figure. As your eyes focused on it, you saw a familiar face smiling down at you. Wait what the hell? It looked and sounded exactly like Yoongi.

“Let me speak before you ask any more questions,” the faux Yoongi said, “Welcome to Purgatory. You are neither dead nor alive nor undead. Your soul is temporarily in limbo. You must be a rather peculiar human. Most souls merely pop in here for an instant before their fate is decided or they are pulled back into the mortal realm. I have been instructed to converse with you,” the being explained.

“Y-yoongi?” you stammered in your confusion.

“Ah, I am not Yoongi, though I’m sure I resemble that fellow. I am perceived as any being who is held dear by those who gaze upon me. Usually I appear as a lover or a parent. Forgive my curiosity but under which category is ‘Yoongi’ to you?” the being sat beside you.

“Neither. But he’s probably the closest thing I have to a parent,” you shrugged.

“Interesting. Do you have a lover?”

“I think I did before I fucked everything up. What happens now?” you asked. You didn’t want to ponder on why this strange being did not take the form of Taehyung. Surely you held Taehyung more dear to you than Yoongi.

“You get to choose,” the being replied, “Also, I am not a god, upper or lowercase. You can think of me as sort of a cousin to Death. I am inevitable, but much less known,” it must have sensed your eagerness to figure out what it was.

“Do you have a name?” you inquired, now looking at it in awe instead of fear. If you didn’t know any better, you would think you were sitting with the real Min Yoongi. However, this being’s powerful aura easily gave it away as an imposter.

“Names are powerful things,” fake Yoongi tsked.

“Surely you know mine. It’s only fair for me to know yours,” you replied, “And I keep calling you Fake Yoongi in my head.”

“You may call me Lethe, as some have called me before,” it said after a long pause.

“Cool. Nice to meet you, Lethe. So what is this choosing business? Whether I live or die?”

“Of course,” Lethe said as a matter of factly.

“Wouldn’t it be obvious that I’d want to live?”

“Do you?”

That question filled you with doubt. What happens if you go back? How would you face Taehyung? Would it even be possible to talk it out and pretend like it never happened? Or would you need to go through the ordeal of attempting to kill him again?

“Those are all valid questions,” Lethe nodded.

“I forgot you can read my mind,” you said with surprise, “How long can I stay here?”

“Time does not exist here. But I suppose for your feeble mind to comprehend, I’d say about 2 more hours. At least, that’s what it’ll feel like to you. You can converse with me for the time being,” the immortal sat beside you.

And so it went. Lethe helped you weigh out your options. Lethe taking Yoongi’s form helped you open up. This was the closest thing you’ve ever had to a real heart to heart with a parent. Perhaps Yoongi was more important to you than you thought.

Lethe had already known every detail of your life, as they do with all those who pass through their domain. It was clear that you weren’t ready to die. You were just lost on what to do when you go back.

“Time is nearly up, little one,” Lethe softly said, “Have you made your decision?”

“Yes. I want to go back to the land of the living,” you smiled.

Lethe returned your smile as they began to wave their hands above you, making you instantly sleepy.

“I’ll be happy to see you again when it’s finally my time to go,” you managed to make out before letting out a yawn and shutting your eyes.

“That would be nice, little one. But no one ever remembers me,” Lethe said in a bittersweet tone as they sent you back to the mortal plane.

“___? ___! ___ wake up!” you heard muffled yells.

Your eyes opened slowly, but it was too dark to see anything. Your entire body ached. Bitter chills began to set in as you realized you were sopping wet, making the wintry air even more unbearable.

You drop back into a state of unconsciousness, but you swore you still faintly heard someone calling out your name.

“You didn’t have to come here yourself.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I lost her parents. I can’t afford to lose her too. Why the fuck didn’t you step in immediately?”

“You ordered me to observe her, and that’s exactly what I did. She would be dead if it weren’t for me.”

“I’m gonna kill that bloodsucker myself.”

“...Yoongi…?” you weakly called out, your eyes still closed.

“___?!?” you heard the men scramble to your side.

The sheets you were wrapped in were warm. The biting cold that hurt your bones had faded away. Your body ached beyond belief, and you didn’t have the strength to sit yourself up.

“___, are you okay? I’ll get you some water,” a familiar voice said. It must be Jungkook.

“___? Are you awake?” Yoongi’s voice was much closer now.

“Yoongi?” you repeated while your eyes slowly opened to adjust to the light.

“Oh my god. Thank god you’re okay,” Yoongi pulled you in for a tight embrace.

“We really thought you were done for,” Jungkook handed you a glass of water.

“I thought I was too. I really think I died for a little bit. I can’t remember exactly what happened, but all I can recall is a bright light and maybe a forest? I think Yoongi was there?” you replied in a daze.

“Well, I was the only person with you until Yoongi showed up so I’m not sure about that. Unless you mistook me for Yoongi, which I take offense to,” Jungkook half smiled before taking a serious tone, “I saw him dump you in the lake. Why didn’t he drain you first?”

“Extremely tactless of you, Jungkook,” Yoongi admonished.

“He hasn’t harmed a living person in a long time. Well, except for my parents,” you softly answered.

“Come to think of it, he didn’t drink your parents’ blood either,” Yoongi stated.

“Please don’t hurt him. Please leave him alone. He won’t hurt anyone,” you begged.

“He hurt you, ___. For that, he needs to die,” Yoongi said sternly.

“I poisoned myself,” you admitted.

“What?” Yoongi and Jungkook said in unison.

“I...I love him. I told him to flee and live in peace after I sacrificed myself,” you began to cry.

“Are you stupid?” Yoongi asked in disbelief, “That thing killed your parents!”

“In self defense! They wouldn’t leave him alone after he told them numerous times to back off!”

“How do you know that? How do you know he wasn’t lying?” Yoongi argued.

“I can tell! You of all people should know that a vampire hunter doesn’t survive for long unless they can detect deceit in any and every form.”

“Sir, pardon me, but I think she’s telling the truth,” Jungkook interjected.

“Unbelievable. You too, Jungkook? Are you in love with the vampire too?” Yoongi scoffed.

“No. I just believe in her. When has ___ ever deviated from a mission? She’s your top agent. I don’t think she’d let herself get swept up by seductive charms,” Jungkook reasoned on your behalf, “I spoke with her yesterday. There was no trace of magic on her. Hopefully my word as your second highest agent means something. Plus, I’ve seen her express more emotion this past week than I have her entire life.”

“Jungkook,” you gratefully smiled at him.

“What the fuck are we supposed to do then? Just let him go without any consequences? I will not let your parents’ deaths go unavenged,” Yoongi crossed his arms.

“Let me talk to him,” you requested.

“What are you gonna say?” Jungkook joined you on the bed.

“I…” you trailed off.

What can you say to him? For one, he thinks you’re dead. You can’t imagine what he must be feeling right now. Anger? Sadness? Maybe he would be temporarily happy if you returned to him. However, it wouldn’t be long until your betrayal hurts him again.

“I just want to see him,” you finally say, “I’ll figure it out when I get there.”

“Absolutely not,” Yoongi shook his head, “I’m not sending you back without a plan.”

It took three days before you fully regained your strength. Yoongi and Jungkook took turns taking care of you. Jungkook offered to help you bathe, but you turned him down with a glare.

“Can HQ function properly without you?” you asked Yoongi in the kitchen.

He turned around quickly, surprised that you’re out of bed, “___! Sit down, don’t strain yourself.”

“I’m fine, Yoongi. I’ve been in bed for too long,” you shooed him away.

“I guess we can all have dinner together at the table tonight. I made fried chicken,” Yoongi said triumphantly, “Also, I haven’t had a day off in years. The VEC can handle itself for a little bit longer.”

“The chicken smells amazing, Yoongi. I’m gonna take a shower because I feel and smell disgusting.”

“You sure you don’t want my help?” Jungkook materialized out of nowhere.

“Sure, you wanna help me take a shower?” you peered up at him.

“Are you being serious?” Jungkook’s doe eyes widened.

“Yep. The only condition is that I’m going to kill you afterwards,” you deadpanned.

“Mm so you’d still want to take at least one full shower with me,” Jungkook teased.

“Shut up, bunny boy,” you rolled your eyes.

You could hear Yoongi chuckle to himself behind you. It must be a relief to see you back to normal and bickering with Jungkook as if nothing happened.

Flashbacks of your last encounter with Taehyung filled your head as warm water cleansed your body. You didn’t know what you’d do, but you made up your mind. You needed to see him. You wanted nothing more than to be in his arms again. You longed to feel his soft lips on yours.

Dinner was full of smiles and playful banter. The food was delicious (fried chicken was Yoongi’s speciality) and it tasted even better since you hadn’t been able to eat solid food in days.

“So, what are we gonna do now that ___ is feeling better?” Jungkook questioned with a mouth full of food.

“I’m going to go talk to him,” you affirmed.

“Again, what are you going to talk about?” Yoongi raised his eyebrows.

The rest of the evening was spent devising a plan. It took a lot of convincing by both you and Jungkook, but Yoongi finally gave in. It seemed like even Jungkook was hesitant about the plan, but backed you up nonetheless. Jungkook and Yoongi would be your backup in case things went south.

The next day you drove to Taehyung’s home. The drive that you once happily made now brought you dread. You had no idea how Taehyung would react. You just prayed that he wouldn’t kill you on the spot.

It was now well into the winter season. Snow covered the ground and frosted the windows of Taehyung’s weathered home. Knocking on the front door may not be the best move, but it’s what you decided to do. There was no answer. You tried to turn the knob to find that the door wasn’t locked at all.

You snuck through the front door, cautious not to make any sounds. Something was amiss. Someone as cautious as Taehyung would never leave their front door unlocked. The house was eerily quiet.

He was nowhere to be found on the first floor. You journeyed up to the second story in the hopes of finding him. A rustling from his room was heard.

You tiptoed to his room, the door was wide open. Taehung was staring out of his bedroom window. The world seemed still for a moment. You quietly walked into the room, and realized that the room was filled with bouquets. Flowers ranging from lillies, chrysanthemums, carnations, and roses made the room smell sickly sweet.

“Taehyung,” you called out to him.

He turned to you to reveal his tear streaked face. His eyes were red and puffy. He cast a disinterested gaze at you before he shooed you away with one hand.

“Go away. You’re not real. When will this hell end?” he sighed.

“Tae, my darling, I am real,” you approached him slowly.

“My own imagination won’t let me live down my guilt, huh? I suppose I deserve it,” he replied sadly, turning back to face the window.

“Taehyung, I’m right here, dumbass,” you say with more conviction as you hug him from behind.

He jumped at your touch, whipping around to face you with inhuman speed. His cold hands gently cupped your face, as tears began to fall from his eyes.

“How? There’s no way you can be real. There’s no way that you’re ___,” he cried out, hugging you tightly.

“You better believe it, Taehyuung. I didn’t come back from the dead to be ignored,” you tried to joke, but your voice gave you away.

It was a bittersweet reunion. Tears freely fell, wet kisses were shared, and best of all, you were in each other’s arms again. Any fear you had regarding awkward tensions had dissipated.

Taehyung held you in his arms as you recounted the past few days. You came clean to him about being a vampire hunter, and about how you were the VEC’s top hunter. You started to cry again as you told him about the inner turmoil you struggled with ever since you met him. Taehyung listened intently to everything you said, clutching you closely the entire time.

“The President of the VEC knows that you’re here?” he asked after you finished.

“Yes,” you answered.

“Is he going to kill me?” he seriously inquired.

“He may try, depending on the choices you make today,” you replied.

“What choices do I have? I’ll receive any consequences you deem fit,” he kissed your forehead.

“How do you feel about working for the VEC? It took a lot of arguing, but Yoongi agreed that if I can keep you in check, you would be allowed to work with me. However, one slip up and you’re dead. Those were his words exactly,” you explained.

“What exactly does a ‘slip up’ entail?” he questioned.

“Killing and/or eating any humans. You would only be allowed to kill vampires. The VEC would ensure that blood will always be provided to you to avoid any hunger killings,” you laced his fingers between yours, as if this was any normal casual conversation.

“My ultimatum is that I either work for the VEC to kill my own kind or to die? Is that correct?” he clarified.

“That sounds pretty harsh. But yes, those are your only options.”

“What if I kill all of you instead?”

“Okay, you have three options then.”

“But only one of them will allow me to spend my life with you,” he replied gently.

“You’ll do it? You’ll work with me at the VEC?” your eyes lit up.

“If it means I get to be with you, of course. Vampires are solitary creatures anyway. I have no remorse for my kind that resort to needless violence,” he planted a tender kiss on your lips.

“In that case, I have one more condition. This is a personal request,” you whispered.

“Anything for you, my darling,” Taehyung cooed.

“Turn me.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened, stunned by your request. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I finally found a real reason to live, and it’s you. I had just been going through the motions until I met you. Please, Taehyung. I want us to stay like this. Forever,” you pleaded.

“Do you know what you’re asking, ___? You’ll be dead, just like me. You’ll be dependent on feeding on human blood. I’ve had countless years of practice, but the hunger can sometimes become uncontrollable,” Taehyung tried to reason with you.

“I would have you to help me through all of that,” you stroked his cheek.

“What if the VEC decides to hunt us down?”

“Then we can flee together. Or we can fight them. I don’t care, as long as we’re together. You don’t have to do it right now, but just know that I want it,” you say in a defeated tone.

“If you’re sure,” Taehyung gripped a handful of your hair and tilted your head back, “I’ll do it.”

“Then do it. Bet you won’t,” you teased to hide your nervousness.

He chuckled at your response. He peppered gentle kisses along your neck, before licking a long stripe along it. The tingling sensation made you moan. Taehyung’s hand found its way between your thighs. He slowly began to rub your clit while seductively whispering in your ear.

“I’ve been dreaming of doing this since the first time I saw you,” he growled.

You took off your pants to grant him easier access to your intimate spots.

“Good girl,” he praised, slipping a finger into you.

You moaned as he added another one. You felt your body clenching as he brought you closer to your climax. His fingers curled perfectly and his pace quickened. He had simultaneously been kissing your neck the entire time.

“You smell so fucking good, darling,” his deep voice resonated in your ear, “I can’t promise that this won’t hurt. But I do promise to fuck your brains out after.”

He didn’t give you time to respond. You had been holding out long enough. You reached your high as his sharp fangs bit into your neck. The initial puncture hurt, but it began to feel better as soon as Taehyung lapped up the blood. Taehyung suckled your neck as his fingers played with your clit.

“T-tae t-that’s too much,” you struggled to say.

“Don’t act as if you can’t take it, darling,” Taehyung growled in response.

He threw you on your back. He let you have a second to catch your breath, as he tore off his blood stained shirt. He dove right back into feeding from you, but now his hard crotch was grinding against your wet exposed core.

“I have to warn you, this next part may be a bit unpleasant for you,” he stated as he licked the blood off of his lips.

This sight of a bloody Kim Taehyung was oddly erotic. Knowing that it was your blood on him strangely made it even more hot.

Taehyung bit his own wrist. He held his bleeding wrist over your mouth.

“Drink,” he ordered.

You did as you were told, hesitantly licked his wrist. The metallic taste caused you to cringe.

“It won’t work if you don’t do it,” he scolded.

You grabbed his wrist and brought it to your mouth. You sucked on the wound hard, swallowing as much as you could. Taehyung groaned, the sight of you feeding from him turned him on more than he could imagine. You couldn’t take it anymore after a few minutes. You stopped to get some air.

“That should be good enough, darling. Well done,” Taehyung kissed your forehead.

“How will I know if it worked?” you asked.

“It takes a little while for my blood to circulate throughout your body. It’ll happen, don’t worry. For now…” his voice trailed off as his hand returned to your pussy.

“Do you want me to make you feel good again?” he teased, his fingers lightly tracing your lips.

“I thought you promised that you’d ‘fuck my brains out’?” you deviously smiled.

“I do intend to make good on that,” he returned your sly smile.

He flipped you onto your stomach, and propped your ass up. He gave it a good slap, one that stung for a few seconds afterwards and immediately turned your ass red.

He ran his length along your pussy, coating himself with your juices. He teased you by slowly putting just the tip in before coming back out. You didn’t have the energy to be your normal cheeky self. You patiently waited for him to ease into you. His hand came around to grip your neck, forcing your head upwards.

“You’ve been such a good girl,” he growled, as he finally gave you his entire length.

His hips bucked into you ferociously, his grip still firmly around your neck. Your neck was still sore from being bitten into, but at this point you didn’t care. You were still sensitive from your last orgasm, and Taehyung was drilling directly into your g spot.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he panted.

“Please fuck me as hard as you can. I really can’t keep up with you much longer,” you managed to say.

“Sure thing, darling,” Taehyung obliged.

He pounded into you harder with speed that you couldn’t handle. He let go of your neck, allowing you to collapse onto your chest. His hands gripped your ass instead. His strokes became sloppier, indicating that he was now close to his limit.

With a sudden grunt, Taehyung released his load into you, his hot semen filling you up. He leaned over to you, and you thought he was going in for a kiss, but he licked your neck instead. You didn’t realize that you were still bleeding. You turn to the side to give him better access. After the bleeding stopped, he cuddled you, pressing his chest against your back.

“You have the sweetest blood I’ve ever tasted,” he kissed your ear.

“Thanks I guess? Have you ever tasted a diabetic? That might change your opinion,” you laughed.

“I can’t recall. I just know that no one has ever tasted better,” he squeezed you tighter, “Also creeping thistle.”

“Huh?” you turned to look at him in confusion. Was he speaking in code?

“You asked what kind of flower I thought you were before. I believe I can give you my answer now,” Taehyung replied thoughtfully.

“Okay I’ll bite. What does a creeping thistle look like?”

“You know those tall purple flowers you see on the sides of the road? Those are creeping thistles,” he answered. You paused to recall driving past them.

“Wait, those are weeds!” you cried out in disbelief, “You think I’m a pest like a weed?”

“They are weeds, yes. They are resilient, persistent, and can hurt you if you’re not careful around them,” Taehyung chuckled.

“Those don’t really sound like compliments--”

“But they also produce beautiful purple flowers that go unappreciated. Purple is my favorite color,” Taehyung interrupted you.

“Fine, I’ll take it since you said they’re beautiful or whatever,” you playfully rolled your eyes, but you were touched by the thought that went into his answer. You noticed you were growing colder by the second, and snuggled closer to Taehyung to try and produce some body heat. He noticed this and helped you get under the covers before cuddling with you again.

“You’re going to die tonight. Don’t worry, that’s part of the process. I’ll be by your side the entire time. You’ll be like me in the morning,” he kissed your forehead.

“Will it hurt?” you asked, slightly scared.

“The worst is over. The most excruciating part is when my blood begins to circulate in yours, but I think I successfully distracted you from that pain,” he smirked.

“Oh I’m sure that was the only reason you dicked me down senseless. Thank you for your generosity,” you laughed.

Your body began to feel heavy yet weightless at the same time. Panic began to set in. The feeling was similar to when you drowned in the lake. Your breathes became more strained as you struggled to inhale sufficient oxygen. Sensing your distress, Taehyung held you tighter and whispered a single word into your ear.

“Sleep.”

“You look pretty harmless.”

“I try to be, for the most part.”

“Jungkook! Get away from him. Don’t talk to him. Taehyung, if that’s even your real name, you’re on thin fucking ice. If ___ doesn’t wake up when you say she will I’ll put your pretty little head on a spike.”

“You think he’s pretty?”

“Shut up Jungkook.”

You slowly opened your eyes after hearing the men bicker. You woke up to find all three of them standing in front of the bed. Jungkook had an uncharacteristically somber look on his face while Yoongi looked gloomier than usual. You could tell that Taehyung had reverted back to his reserved state in their presence.

“Yoongi? Why are you here?” you questioned. You started to panic. Did Taehyung admit to turning you? You hadn’t even thought about how to break the news to Yoongi. If you weren’t dead now then you’d surely be dead after Yoongi found out.

“Your phone rang. I answered “Yoongles” who had some rather choice words for me. I told him that you were fine and resting. He barged in immediately after that,” Taehyung explained.

“Yoongi I told you that I would--”

“I’m beyond relieved that you’re still alive. I only called because it was urgent and--”

“The VEC was attacked,” Jungkook butted in.

“What?” you were shocked.

“We’re the only ones left,” Yoongi stated.

#bts smut #kim taehyung smut #bangtanarmynet #bangtanshadowfamily #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #bts vampire #bts angst #vampire taehyung #taehyung angst #kpop fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fluff #kim taehyung fluff #taehyung fanfic

147 notes · View notes

johnkrrasinski · 4 years

Text

Daylight;

full masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 1,721

Warning: FLUFF!!!! just two people being in love!!! but a little angst on bucky’s part though. (dont worry it’s got a happy ending)

Summary: bucky has his own unhealthy ways to deal with his demons but your love heals and changes him.

a/n: this one was inspired by @promptlywritingideas‘s prompts and i just immediately thought of bucky because i’m a soft ass bitch when it comes to bucky barnes. also! yes, i did use a lyric from daylight by taylor swift bc this song is literally everything alright, please listen to it if you haven’t. it’s the most reviving song ever. also, credit to @seedaylight for this lovely picture!

The bead of sweats rolled off Bucky’s forehead to his neck, his shirt and the floor, constructing small ponds of indignation that was left masked, unspoken and obliterated. At least that was what he had been aiming for as long as he could remember. The battered punching bag stayed robust and resilient despite the vigour of Bucky’s punches. The bleeding on his knuckles cracked through the split skin due to the brutal strikes.

But he couldn’t stop. The pain from the wounds still couldn’t compare to the demons haunting his mind. The ghosts in his dreams that refused to let him have his peaceful rest at night are the reasons why he was in the empty gym room at 3 am in the morning instead of being curled up in the warm sheets with the divine figure snoring next to him.

The silence of the solitude eased his mind, feeling like he was given the space and seclusion that he always yearned for. He was certainly grateful for what he had been given now; a lavish compound with excellent amenities and exceptional technologies, a ragtag group of people that had welcomed him with open arms and accepted him as part of their cluttered makeshift family, a much higher and noble purpose that allowed him to utilize his cursed, undesired superpowers for good and lastly, the foremost one out of all; you.

You, a blessing in his life that he never once imagined he’d ever get have in his long, agonizing life after all the wickedness he had committed. You, who loved him and believed in him anyway, even when he had lost faith in himself centuries ago. You, who permitted him to touch you in the most intimate manners and you, who were willing to be devoted to him even when he felt absolutely undeserving of your goodness and loyalty.

Bucky was a grateful man. He should’ve been. He was, it’s just- there was still a part of him that didn’t return and died in the ages of his Winter Soldier days. The days where he was merely a damaged soldier, a fractured puppet doll on a string, just waiting to be torn apart and stitched back together again just for the sake of more murders and more crimes.

He was slowly recovering though, each day, when he got a taste of your lips, when he watched you slowly wake up in the morning light, when your limbs were tangled within each other, that you couldn’t figure out where he began and you ended. But just because he was happy and he was grateful, doesn’t mean that all the sins of his past catching up to him would spontaneously combust in the blink of an eye.

He had his own baggage and he was going to deal with them. Most days, especially when he was surrounded by the love of his life and his makeshift family, he would pretend that all is well and healing was all there was. But at night, he’d slowly lift her arm that was circled around his waist off of him and quietly snuck out to his favourite place to be at midnight.

So that’s how he ended up in this sweaty state in the middle of the night. His mind recalled the fragments of memories during his Winter Soldier days that he fought to forget but they were stronger. It was faint and distant but, it still lingered in his mind like it was just yesterday.

The faces of his victims before he shot a bullet right through their skulls loomed. Their begs for mercy echoed in his ears. And the guilt consciously devoured his heart alive, like a cobra swallowing its feeble prey.

“Bucky…?” The delicate voice alerted him out of his tumultuous daze.

Bucky halted and turned his body around to the entrance, where you were standing in a plain white tank top and your bottom shorts with a wool cardigan hugging your form daintily. You looked so endearing in your half drowsy state, as you rubbed your eye, whilst trying to adjust to the brightness of the room. You always preferred being in the dark, after all. Beaming lights always hurt your sight.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing up?”

“I was looking for you. I got cold and I wanted to cuddle.”

He approached you deliberately with his boxing gloves still on, “go back to bed, alright? I’ll be up with you in a minute.”

“No, I’m not going back to bed without you.”

“I can’t, y/n.”

“Why?” It was a futile rhetorical question. You knew better than anyone why he was here.

“Y/N, I-”

“Oh God, Bucky, I love you. But this has to stop.”

“Y/N, it’s not that- I’m sorry but… what?” He was uncertain whether he got the last part right.

The truth is, Bucky knew he loved you since the first moment you courageously approached him like he wasn’t one of the deadliest assassins in history. He loved you the grace of your smile, he loved the way you mindlessly danced to your favourite song and the way you’d make silly jokes that he rarely understood to comfort your dearest teammates.

But within the six months you had been dating, you and Bucky hadn’t said the three special words yet to each other. You were taking it slow, knowing that you could trust and be honest with each other, and that you’d always have each other’s backs, whether it be on missions or in secret moments. So you didn’t feel the need to rush what you had, fearing that one might scare the other and destroy the precious plants that you both watered until they turn into an entire garden together.

“What?” You were just as puzzled as he was. You somnolent state of mind didn’t realize that you had just blatantly declared the most potent three words to him when all you intended was to break him off his deleterious habits.

But the truth was, you really did love him. You had loved him before you even realized it. It took you a while to fall in love with him, but before you and Bucky finally stopped playing around and acting coy with your real emotions around each other, you had possessed this profound affection for him like a lifelong childhood best friend.

The way his kind baby blue eyes always nudged your soft spot… It always pulled you in like you were walking into a house and you just suddenly knew that you were home. Familiar and warm. That’s what you always felt with Bucky around you. Long before he was even yours.

So when you mindlessly uttered those words, it felt like second nature. Something that just felt so natural to your lips. Bucky walked into your life with such rare sincerity and your heart welcomed it with wide, open arms.

“Those three words… Say it again.”

“…Has to stop?” You shot him a questioning look. It took you a few seconds to realize what you just said. You were starting to panic despite your sluggish state. It’s like Bucky’s question was a wakeup call and it jolted you awake like icy water thrown right onto your face without a warning. You could not believe you were clumsy enough to let the three worlds roll out of your lips.

Oh God, alright, quick, think of something clever, something rational, something that could undo what you just recklessly spurted-

“No no, the words before that.” Bucky quizzically assessed your face.

“Pretty sure I said ‘this has’ before that. I mean, I don’t know,” you scratched your forehead like a kid lying to her teacher about forgetting her homework. “I don’t really remember much, it doesn’t matter anyway, I was half asleep and I was just babbl-”

And then, you felt silky plump lips slamming yours in the most jovial way. He deepened his kiss with his massive hands grabbing your face so delicately as if he was holding a fragile china doll. He caressed your cheek with his thumbs as if he was memorizing every feature on your seraphic face.

He retreated and stared lovingly into your widen eyes. It’s not like it was the first time he surprised you with a kiss, but it’s the unheralded reaction that you thought would’ve been the doom for the two of you. You thought you might’ve frightened him away but it was rather the exact opposite. From the smile on his face, he seemed rather fond. “I love you too.”

Your lips were slightly agape. “You do…?”

“Yes, I do. It took me a while to say that because I thought you weren’t ready to hear it or say it back and I don’t wanna scare you or make you feel guilty so I thought I should wait. But I guess, I don’t have to anymore, now.” His eyes sparkled.

“But we still need to address one thing though, you can’t keep doing this. Every night, you’d sneak into the gym and break your knuckles instead of talking to me. I want you to be honest with me. I want you to trust me. And if we don’t have those then, love is just an illusion.”

His face that was gleaming turned into a frown. There was that sealed off look and hesitation on his face again.

“I’m not asking you to cut yourself open and let me see everything. I just need you to try to let me comfort you instead of hiding in the dark and bleed yourself out every midnight when you should be in bed with me.”

“I’m a work in progress doll, but for you, I’ll try.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

And you made a vow to your heart as well that you would walk with him in the murk, no matter how excruciating and dull the road to recovery is. And you would hold his hand and guide him every step of the way. Because there’s no one else you’d rather share the torturous nights and the mundane days with than him. You would rather share countless arguments and overflowing tears with him than to spend a single peaceful night with someone else.

Because that was the love of your life. And you didn’t wanna look at anything else now that you saw him.

282 notes · View notes

imaginethatneathuh · 3 years

Text

Warm (Cold P3): Technical Boy - American Gods

Third part of Cold and Cool. The last part, too.

Edited by the amazing and ever talented @dragon430. I immensely appreciate everything. She really pulled this one through (blame her for the length).

Word count: 5.2+ K

I- I tried. I’m not good at writing this kinda stuff.

Warnings: Arguing, fluff, angst, apologies.

•

What was he doing? He shouldn't be here, not in the slightest. He should not be here. Especially, if he wanted to save his dignity.

Technical Boy’s frantic tapping on the steering wheel of one of his cars was the only noise heard.

It wasn't the limo. He couldn't stand being in there without you. It felt… wrong, cold even.

Your apartment complex was right there. Directly next to him, and he could so easily just go inside. He still had the key you'd given him. You'd probably forgotten he had it as he rarely used it. That’s probably why you hadn't asked for it back. That or because you didn’t want to see him or talk to him at all.

That was a far more terrifying thought than any other he’d come up with.

To his right sat an old sweater of yours. Its age showed in the stains and rubbed off text on the tag.

You left it at his place one day. He, occasionally, kept it with him as a small reminder of you when he couldn't see you for a while. Over the past few weeks, he had slept with it several times, your scent calming his raging mind. What could he say; the idiot missed you.

Now, you were leaving for a wedding, a wedding in another country.

The god couldn't leave the states. He'd disappear if he tried. His only hope was that you hadn't packed and left for the airport already. Before you left, he wanted to see you again. He wanted, no, needed to say goodbye.

No. That’s too desperate.

He wanted to give you your sweater back.

Yeah. That's better. If he told you that, maybe he wouldn't have to say it.

Wouldn't have to say goodbye. Wouldn't have to accept that you might not come back. He could live in his own made-up world, one where you were still there, and the two of you were happy.

He knew you had been thinking about it. About staying gone, that is.

He couldn't stomach the thought of never seeing you again. He’d even be okay with you hating him forever as long as you stayed where he could see you. You had become the one person he never wanted to chase away, but he'd fucked that up, and now all you wanted to do was get away as fast as possible.

Looking at the apartment complex, Technical Boy bit his lip, the flesh raw from his gnawing. And he could already feel the pool of tears collecting in his eyes. He didn't want to cry. He didn't want you to see him like this. Didn't want weakness to be the first thing you think of when you see him.

But he’s never been so overcome with emotion. You did things to him. Some of those things he liked. Like how you were able to push away all his worries with a smile or how you could alleviate all his tension with a gentle touch. But, now, he hated it. All he felt now was the undeniable, ever potent feeling of loneliness.

•

Quietly, you tucked your toiletries into your suitcase. Patting the bag lightly, you sighed.

It would be the one, sure-fire way you wouldn't have to see him again. It'd be easier for you. No caving if he came to you, asked you to come back to him, to deal with him again. No, you weren't going to. No matter what.

That's what you told yourself, repeatedly.

If you left and didn't come back, sure, that'd be hard and you'd have to figure how to become a citizen but then you wouldn't have to see him. You wouldn't give in to Technical Boy's demands. If he ever decided you were worth his time.

It had been weeks, so that wasn't likely. Still, the thought stayed with you.

You sighed again and shuffled to your dresser.

In your heart, you wished he did want you and he cared about you but your brain told your heart to shut up. Said it was impossible and to move on.

A knock was heard from your door, the sound resonating through empty halls. Confused, as you weren't expecting anyone, you walked out of your room and to the door.

•

The young god breathed heavily and tapped his foot nervously. and bit his lip.

'Come on,' he thought to himself. 'Come on. Come the fuck on. All you gotta do is hand them the sweater back. That's all you need. That way, you know they're okay, and we can get on with our life. And- and they can, too.'

He wanted to be more than that. Much more.

The god wanted to be with you again. To treat you better than he had before. He wanted to show you his love.

Quietly, he swore to himself that if you gave him a second chance, he'd take you wherever you wanted. A 5-star restaurant with cuisine from all around the world made by the best chefs the US had to offer? Done. A trip to Hawaii to swim with the animals and go scuba diving? When do you want to leave? Mountain climbing in Alaska? He’ll get the gear. A romantic night out, ending at your place or his, maybe even a super expensive hotel for the hell of it? As long as it was what you wanted. He’d let you pull him under the stars for a night, as long as you smiled. Even if you just wanted to relax at home with him, he’d do it. He’d power down his phone and take care of you until you fell asleep. If you asked, he’d rub your feet or give you a massage. As long as, by the time you slept, you were relaxed, he’d count it as a win. As long as you were happy, he’d do anything. He’d treat you as he should have in the first place, like a monarch.

He had been so cold and cruel to you before. The god had gotten so used to pushing everyone away that he did it to you, too. The walls he built around himself, the technological armour, prevented the one person in the world he wanted to lower the drawbridge from being able to get across the moat. The white lies he told to keep you with him for as long as he could, the yelling and ranting for hours on end, the never asking about YOU because he already knew everything. They all did more harm than good, the yelling in particular. Now, he would make sure to do better. To be better for you. No more lies of any sort. He’d tone down the rants and find other ways to get out his anger. And, of course, he’d make sure to ask about you and how you were doing rather than assuming or ignoring. He’d let you in, too. Properly this time, not just in the forms of rants and yelling. Anything you wanted answered, even the stuff he was afraid to describe, he would tell you. The god wanted a relationship that worked not what the two of you had before. He never wanted to lose you again. If you gave him the chance to fix your relationship, he would, and he would keep it that way if you did, too.

To get you back, he would even beg. Hell, he already wanted to beg you to come back after the wedding and try again. Maybe even beg you to not go at all. The worst thought crossed his mind, though, was to not even beg at all, but to take you and hide you away so you could never leave him again.

Then he grew disgusted with himself. That was not the way to earn your affection. That was the way to making you hate him forever, something he might have accidentally done already.

Not to mention, there wouldn't be a point in kidnapping you if you didn't still care for him. All he wanted was your love, and taking you against your will wouldn’t get him that. He had to try to earn you back. That was the only way. So begging it is.

Ew. he couldn’t help but grimace at the thought. It wasn’t his preferred method, but if it got you to stay, he’d do it. He’d risk his dignity if it meant getting you back.

As the door opened, Technical Boy froze in place.

You. he knew you’d answer since you lived alone, but now you were right there, in front of him. And you looked perfect.

To be fair, he always thought you did. But, now, after not seeing you in far too long, you looked like the morning sun after a long night of darkness… absolutely stunning.

All previous thoughts were gone as he just stared at you. Your presence left him speechless, and everyone who knows him knows that’s a hard thing to accomplish.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, annoyance and anger lacing your words.

He noticed your defensive stance, something that made him gulp.

Unable to stop himself, he let the words leave his lips.

"Can we talk?" His voice grew in a near whisper, afraid that if he got any louder his voice would betray him. Hell, maybe it had already and he didn't realize it.

•

All you could think about was how small he sounded. Not weak, just scared. Like he didn't trust himself to speak. You had never seen him like this before.

The powerful god shrunk in on himself and looked down. He wasn’t able to meet your gaze, and you didn’t know whether to hate it or like it.

"I'm leaving for the airport soon," you said.

He nodded. "I know. For your cousin's wedding." After giving him a questioning look, he said, "You talked about it a few days before you--" he swallowed hard. "--before you left."

You took a wavering breath. It was hard to think about. The day you left him was difficult for both of you. And as great as it felt walking away, you collapsed as soon as you got home.

You were alone and the weight of your decision was a heavy one. Cutting off such a huge piece of your life terrified you then and still does. Now, you were a bit more confident and comfortable with yourself. You wouldn't let him hurt you again.

Even if he did seem like a wreck. For all you knew, he could be faking it. But, after you looked him over, there was no way he could be.

If you took the voice out of the equation, Technical Boy, a supposedly powerful god, looked like he was on the verge of tears, his eyes shining with them. His clothes, unlike what you had seen before, were plain black. And his hair lay free around his shoulders, splayed out and messy like it hadn’t been taken care of recently. That had never happened as long as you had known him. He never let his hair down nor wore plain clothes.

It hurt to see him like this. AS much as you hated to admit it. Desperation and sadness were not good looks on him. It was odd, unnatural, for him to be like this.

"Y/N, can we please talk? I- I really need to talk to you. Please?" He asked, quietly hating how needy he sounded.

"You wanna talk now?" You scoffed. It may have come out harsher than intended, but it was definitely the tone you needed. "Now? After weeks of silence? After weeks of wondering if you even noticed? If you ever cared at all? Now, when I'm about to leave, is when you wanna talk?"

Technical Boy's mouth opened. But he closed it before he said anything, his gaze downcast. He shuffled forward, seeming cautious with his actions. "Can we not do this in the hall?"

You rolled your eyes, sniffling. Looking up, you tried to blink the tears away. "Go away. You've hurt me enough."

With that, you tried to shut the door.

His hand stopped it.

You didn't even try to resist it. It's not like you actually wanted him to go, but you also didn't want him to see you cry. Didn’t want him to see how much you were hurting.

"I know." His eyes met yours for the first time since you, stupidly, opened the door.

Those beautiful, baby blues that always seemed to storm and glow like they captured lightning. The ones that were always alive, always looking for a fight, now were dead. They looked like they had been beaten so black and blue they decided to just switch off like an old computer. It's like the world wasn't worth existing in.

Despite yourself, you pitied him. He was a god. You had seen him at work, seen his true skin, his true self. He was a powerhouse. To see him so defeated and broken by you, a very human and very mortal individual saddened you.

You fully opened the door. "You have five minutes," you said, turning your back to him and walking inside so he didn’t see the tear that rolled down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away and sniffed. "This had better be good."

•

He stepped into your apartment, following you like a ghost. The sweater in his hands served well as something to pick at as his heart pounded in his chest.

Honestly, he didn't think he'd get this far. He thought you'd slam the door in his face immediately. The god counted himself lucky.

He trailed after you to your room as you continued packing. "Y/N?" He asked, softly.

"What?"

"I brought this back." Technical Boy gently set the sweater on your bed. "Thought you might want it back. You, um, you left it at my place a while ago."

The soft fabric always felt strange in his hands. Like it wasn't really there even though it was. It felt wrong not covering you like it was supposed to. It made him feel weird.

You, on the other hand, loved it. The fabric comforted you even on your worst days when the world felt like too much or not enough.

Your hands brushed over the fabric. Softening eyes analyzed the stains like you were double-checking it was yours. Slowly, you brought it to your chest and smiled.

"You had it?" You asked. "I thought you'd thrown it away."

Technical Boy looked away from you, rubbing his neck. "No, I kept it. It reminded me of you."

You walked over and pushed him.

It wasn't forceful enough to make him fall but enough to know you were upset.

"Why would you keep it? Especially after I freaked out about it."

He shrugged, kicking at the floor. The push felt like nothing and he knew he deserved it.

"I don't know," he mumbled. "Because you love it, I guess. You never really left anything behind 'cept for that. I wanted to, I don't know, hang onto you when we couldn’t see each other."

As he spoke, his voice became quieter and quieter like he was afraid to say it.

You turned away from him and refolded your sweater. "You can't fold for your life, just so you know," you said, trying to hide your feelings in the joke.

He lightly chuckled.

As you slipped the sweater into your suitcase, he pulled you away from it. "Can we talk face-to-face? That's why I came here. I just, want to get what I have to say out. Then, I'll leave."

Scowling, you sat on your bed, arms folded. "Talk."

"I'm sorry," he said, watching for a reaction. You didn't give one, much to his disappointment. "For hurting you. For making you feel like I didn't care. For not showing you I cared. For, well, for everything. I'm sorry for being a complete and utter dick to you." You snorted at that. It was true, but a severe understatement.

"I hurt you, I know that, and I am so fucking sorry." The tears that had been threatening to spill for what felt like ages finally fell from his eyes. But he quickly wiped them away. "Y/N, you are the most important person in the world to me. I'd do anything if it meant making you happy. If it meant keeping you safe, I'd gladly let myself die. I’d gladly kill whoever hurt you."

You bit your lip, gaze downcast, unsure of how to respond. Your tears threaten you at knifepoint, wanting so badly to spill over, but you wouldn’t let them. You didn’t him to see how his words affected you.

He took your silence as a sign for him to continue. "And if it meant getting you back, or at least having the chance to, I'd get on my knees and I'd beg. I'd beg you to forgive me." A god begging. Who knew? "No. I am begging you. Y/N, please, please give me another chance."

"I'm still going--" You tried to say something.

He interjected. "I know. I can't stop you from leaving the country. This is for your cousin's wedding for fuck's sake. You should go. But please, please come back."

He watched you for the longest time, hoping for some sort of reaction.

You just stared at the floor, refusing to meet his gaze.

Silently, he pulled his keyring from his pocket. The keys jangling against each other as he pulled one of them off.

Technical Boy took one of your hands, his own shaking slightly. He placed the apartment key into your hand and closed it. His hands still cradled yours gently.

"I really am sorry. I hope one day you can forgive me."

His heart hung heavy. Pain, more forceful than anything he’d felt before, flooded through him. Rejection is a tough pill to swallow. Wiping away fallen tears, he sniffled and began to walk out of the room.

"Drive me to the airport," you said, still sitting.

He turned, lips parted in surprise.

You looked up, eyes meeting his, with a mix of sadness, love, and determination.

"Okay." He nodded.

Did you really want to do that to him? Force him to say goodbye? Make him drive you to the place that would take you away from him? Break his heart like that?

Technical Boy thought it was only fair. He broke you, now you break him, tit for tat.

•

The key burned in your pocket. It had made its mark on your hand, too. A part of you wanted him to keep it, so neither of you would ever really have to say goodbye. The fact that he was ready to say goodbye, that he was okay with it, hurt. But it felt nice. Knowing he cared but was okay with saying goodbye if it was what you wanted.

Sitting in the car, an older one without all the bells and whistles, felt strange.

You weren't used to it. When he "drove", it was usually in the limo, so the two of you were in the back, a windowless back with no way to know what time it was. But, now, you could look out the window and watch as the world rushed by.

If you were in the limo, Technical Boy could keep it driving until you missed your flight. You wouldn't know until you left the cold car.

Now, despite the memory of the chilly limo, you missed the thing. In it, you got the feeling you get when you’ve been in the shower for a while and forgot what time was, the distant feeling of knowing it’s later but no knowing how much later. You yearned for those feelings and the brightness of the limo. It was familiar and safe.

Technical Boy's eyes stayed trained on the road as he tapped his fingers nervously against the steering wheel. Maybe he wasn't really ready to say goodbye either.

"Why didn't you bring the limo?" You asked the question plaguing your mind.

The god glanced at you. He swallowed hard and shifted in his seat. "Didn't feel right being in there without you."

Your heart swelled at that.

He turned the blinker on and got into the far-right lane.

You nodded in response. It’s all you could do.

•

The airport was packed with people bustling about. Loud voices from the intercom sounded with static and told people what was going on.

Technical Boy felt uncomfortable. This was not his domain. The others, the planes, this was a part of them. He shouldn't be here without a good, godly purpose.

But there he stood, the most important person in the world to him about to leave him forever with no god connection in sight.

Noticing his hesitancy, you gently took his wrist and walked with him inside the building. You weren’t ready to say goodbye just yet.

He patiently waited as you got your boarding pass. The god watched you smile and nod.

Oh, how he adored that smile. His only wish was that you'd smile at him again. Because of him. Not a polite smile, but a real one. He yearned for it.

Walking over, you set your suitcase beside you. "Thanks for the ride," you said, not meeting his gaze.

He nodded. "Yeah. Of course." He swallowed hard, breath shuttering slightly. "I suppose this is where we part ways, then.”

"Our final goodbye."

You can’t take it anymore. Unable to stop yourself, you let yourself seek those beautiful blues. If this was to be the last time you’d see each other, then you might as well take it all in while you could.

The two of you stayed quiet, gazing into each other's eyes.

Finally, your will broke, and you step forward. "But this doesn't have to be. We- we don't have to."

His eyebrows scrunched up. "I thought--"

"I want to come back." You interrupted, the ‘to you’ laced in your meaning.

Quietly, as he did earlier, your hand drifted to your pocket and pulled out a key, the key to your apartment. Taking his hand, you placed it on his palm and closed it.

Neither of you said anything, but you both understood. With not a second to spare, the call came for your plane.

You began to walk away, taking your suitcase with you.

Breathing heavily, he called after you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back. His wonder-filled eyes quietly told you everything he was thinking.

"I- I lo--" He couldn't seem to get the words out. No matter how badly he needed to say them, his lips wouldn’t form the syllables.

For the first time, you really felt it. You felt how much he loved you. It wasn't fake or a lie. It was real.

You cupped his cheek and beamed. "I know," you said, gently. "I do, too. Always have."

Pulling away, you walked to where you were going to board.

The god let a giant smile spread over his face. You cared about-- No, you loved him. Nothing in the world could take that away. Nothing could sour his mood at that moment.

His gaze fell to the key in his hand. Where, before, when he looked at it, there was this never-ending pain in his heart, now, an overwhelming joy took its place.

You loved him, too. That's all that mattered.

Even if there was rising anxiety over the plane and all the ways it could end up crashing. But, plane crashes had a one in 11 million chance of happening. Hopefully, you wouldn't be that one.

•

You shut the apartment door with your heel, pushing your suitcase in front of you. You missed your comfy home in the short time you were gone. And the warmth of the space made you sigh in content. But what made you smile was Technical Boy mopping the kitchen floor.

You had only been gone a week and a few days, and he had already made himself relatively comfortable and familiar.

"Planning on living here if I didn't come back?" You asked.

His head shot up, and his face erupts in a grin. "Y/N!"

He reminded you of a puppy greeting its owner after they were gone all day. It was cute, almost to the point of being criminal.

He checked his phone and scowled. "Shit." He looked back up. "I had planned on picking you up. I'm sorry."

You shrugged nonchalantly. "Don't worry, I got a taxi."

You sat your suitcase on the sofa and rolled your neck, trying to ease out the cramps and aches.

"How was the wedding?" He asked, setting the mop back in the bucket.

"It was a wedding." Looking around, you found your home practically deep cleaned. "What's all this about? It looks like Mr Clean came through with a vengeance and a taste for germs."

Technical Boy laughed, his dimples and diastema showing. The cute gap between his teeth was ever endearing and you always thought the sight was adorable paired with his dimples.

Rarely did you see him truly smile. Not a pained one or a sarcastic one, but a real smile. One that reminded you why you put up with him in the first place.

"I wanted to surprise you," he said, shrugging. "Oh! That reminds me." He took your hand and guided you to the fridge. "I was planning on ordering dinner before I went to go get you, but I can do that later." He tapped the freezer door with his knuckle. "Open it."

You looked between him and the freezer, not sure if you should trust him.

"Please?"

Succumbing to your curiosity, you acted as Pandora and opened the box.

He watched as your eyes lit up at the sight of your favourite dessert.

You looked at him, grinning. "Really?"

He nodded. "I figured, I got a long way to go before I'm totally back in your good graces, so why not bribe you a little? Besides, you know I'd do anything to make you happy. Even have dessert before dinner."

You took it out, your smile growing bigger at his thoughtfulness. The amount of love you felt in this moment could rival all that Venus herself possessed.

"Thank you," you said."Now I feel bad. All I got you was a ring."

"You got me something?" Disbelief rang in his voice.

Setting the dessert on the counter, you pulled out a wooden box and handed it to him. "I saw it at a shop and thought of you."

“Are you planning to propose? We’ve haven’t been together that long.”

His joke made you roll your eyes in playful annoyance. “Open it.”

Inside was a ring made of gold and copper etched with the typical tech aesthetic design. Examining it closer, Technical Boy looked inside of the band. It looked like tiny “wires” braided together with TB & Y/F/I Y/L/I engraved into the faux wirework

He gently rubbed the ring and smiled, his eyes twinkling with a new light they were missing when you left. "Something tells me this was a little more custom made than that.” He smirked, looking up at you coyly.

You just shrugged in response, not wanting him to know all the effort it took to get that specific design made.

"It's amazing, Y/N. Thank you." He slipped it onto his finger and rubbed it affectionately. "It's fucking perfect."

The two of you just smiled and gazed into each other's eyes. You now had the time to take in every part of each other. You couldn’t help but get lost in it.

•

The two of you spent the evening talking and eating. You talked about anything and everything, especially about boundaries and what you expected of each other in the future. Eventually, that conversation led to the most random of things. Like how often rabbits procreate and the plural form of ‘uterus’ (it's uteruses, by the way).You realized that once you actually talked with each other, with no walls up, the conversation felt natural and normal like you’d been doing it for years.

As time ticked on, Technical Boy checked his phone out of habit. "Fuck," he mumbled. "It's late. I should probably let you get some sleep."

"No."

He frowned, confused.

That wasn't supposed to be out loud but you didn't want him to go. Not just yet, not after you’d just been so open with each other. You’d never felt so known by him before. And it wasn’t something you were going to let go of anytime soon.

"I mean, why don't you stay over for the night? If you want to," you said, quickly recovering from the outburst.

He nodded. "Okay, yeah, I can take the sofa."

That’s not even close to what you wanted. "Why not just sleep with me in my bed? It's a lot more comfortable than the sofa."

A splash of pink grew over his usually fair cheeks. "Really? You're okay with that?"

You laughed. "I wouldn't have said you could if I wasn't."

He looked down, grinning before looking back up. "Okay, yeah, let's do that then. That sounds nice."

•

The muffled sounds of the bugs outside and the warmth of your room was an oddly relaxing mix. One that you wouldn’t normally think of as peaceful, but it did well to lull you into a tate of sleepiness.

Technical Boy shuffled and repositioned himself every once in a while, trying to get comfortable but to no avail.

Sighing, he looked sadly at you. "Y/N? Are you awake?" He whispered, not wanting to wake you if you weren’t awake already.

"You really like saying my name, don't you?" You mumbled not bothering to open your eyes.

He laughed softly. "It's a beautiful name."

He moved to his side and quietly watched. "I know this of gonna sound stupid," he said. " But, could we- could we maybe cuddle? I like being held. It helps me sleep."

Now that caught your attention. Opening your eyes, you turned your head to face him.

His loose hair framed his face making him look almost like an angel in the soft glow in the softt glow from the street light outside.

You opened your arms for him.

Without hesitation, he snuggled into your chest and breathed in your scent, hugging you tight.

You couldn't help but chuckle. One hand calmly played with his hair as the other was being held captive by the tech god snuggled up against you.

The god moved so he could listen to your heartbeat. The sound soothed him to no end, ot that he would admit it. Slowly, he started to drift to sleep with the rhythmic sound.

Before he did, he spoke softly. "I love you," he muttered. "More than all the technology and worship in the world."

You blink in disbelief but smile when his words register through your tired brain. "I love you, my angel," you said as quiet as you could, not wanting to disturb the peace.

He heard you still. Warmth flooded his chest and he smiled softly as he fell asleep, comforted knowing you're with him.

You placed a soft kiss on the top of his head. The sound of his steady breathing and the warmth of his body in your arms soon had you drifting to sleep yourself.

#american gods #technical boy #fanfiction #american gods fanfiction #bruce langley #new gods #fluff #angst #arguements #apologies

37 notes · View notes

ecoamerica · 24 days

Text

youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

6K notes · View notes

actuallybarb · 3 years

Text

The Aftermath ~ Part 9

Summary: y/n finally goes to a safe house and lo and behold, still isn’t safe. y/n, like thor, has no regard for lawn maintenance

Pairing: peter parker x reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, trauma

Word Count: 3744

A/N: yes i did indulge more sleepy trope, you’re welcome, but there’s a lot of angst right before it

//////////

Happy was outside of the school with a car, waiting for me, when I got out of my last class. I had to finish my chem test during lunch, but that was fine, because it was sloppy joe’s that day, and I prefer to know the kind of meat I’m putting in my body. I talked to the rest of my teachers about being gone for the week, and with Mr. Morita backing me up, none of them put up a big fuss.

“Hey, Happy.”

“Ready to go?”

“You have my stuff, right?” He nodded. “Then I’m ready.”

“Woah, you're the guy who works for Spider-Man!” Eugene stopped beside me while he was walking to his own car and his jaw dropped to the floor. “Are you taking Y/N so she can be an Avenger?”

I slapped my hand over his mouth and slowly started heating it up. “Eugene?” He looked at me. “Shut up.” I took my hand off before I could do anything more than scare him, but he looked like he was ready to piss himself. “Remember how I turned into a lava monster in London and killed a lot of people?” I whispered. “Now someone is trying to kill me for it. So I’d appreciate it if you would keep all of this to yourself, okay?” He nodded, and I took my hand off his shoulder. He hurried away. “Let’s get out of here before anyone else recognizes you, Happy.”

“Happy? Y/N?”

“Hey, Pete,” Happy called over my shoulder.

He stopped beside me. “Are you going to the compound?”

“The detectives are insisting I go to a safe house, so we compromised.” I leaned close and whispered, “One of the detectives wants Spider-Man’s autograph. Think you can make that happen?”

“I’ll practice my cursive,” he whispered back with a smile. He pulled me into a hug and said, “Take care of yourself, Y/N. I’ll see you on Friday.”

“You too, Pete.” I threw my backpack into the back seat and sat beside Happy in the front, which took him by surprise, but he just started the car and drove away.

“So, you and Peter?”

I looked over at Happy and scowled. “Nothing’s happening, no matter what Sam says otherwise.”

He just shrugged. “Hey, I haven’t heard anything. I just see the way you two look at each other.”

Despite my best efforts to keep my heart under control, it jumped at his words and the butterflies started flapping around in my stomach. Could Happy read minds? The thought had crossed my mind before, but now more than ever I thought it was true.

“Like what?”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, Y/N, it’s just the look.” He glanced at me again, but I was actively avoiding eye contact. I knew if I did look at him I would just start crying, and I had avoided crying this whole time. But damn it, Happy was going to try. “You doing okay, kid?”

“Fucking peachy.”

“Yeah that’s what I thought.” He pulled off the road and into a five-minute parking spot, then turned and looked at me head on. “You can’t run away from this, Y/N. Try as you might, this is the real world, and it’s scaring the shit out of everyone. Why didn’t you come to Pepper after your mom disappeared?”

“I never thought to,” I admitted. “Sure, I hang out at the compound and get to pretend that I’m a superhero every other weekend, but I’ve known everyone for maybe two months? I — it just —“ I hung my head, the tears burning the corner of my eyes. “I’m just a kid, Happy. A kid that no one is especially attached to. I still had my dad, and I thought it could be handled.” I gestured at the car and him. “Clearly that isn’t the case.” I quickly wiped away the tears that had spilled over, hoping he didn’t see.

Well, he did. And he surprised me even more by pulling me across the center console into a quick hug. “You mean a lot more to everyone than you give yourself credit for, Y/N. Bucky nearly broke my arm for the keys because he wanted to be the one to pick you up. Pepper started calling private investigators the second you got off the phone last night and had FRIDAY checking cameras. Sam was ready to fly over all of Brooklyn to look for your dad. Don’t sell yourself short.” He pulled the car back onto the road and we slowly made our way to the compound, my chest a little less heavy.

Bucky practically dragged me out of the car and into a bone crushing hug the second Happy put it in park. “Thank god you’re okay.”

“It was a two hour drive, Bucky,” I said back. But I let myself completely relax in his arms. This was probably the safest I had felt in the last three days, and my body was feeling the difference. “Can we go inside?”

“‘Course.” He let go, but kept his metal arm wrapped around my shoulders. He grabbed one of my duffel bags and slowly walked with me into the compound. “Sam has a fat stack of pancakes waiting for you.”

An equally bone-crushing hug came from Captain America, and I almost broke down completely. “You’re okay, Y/N, we won’t let anything else happen to you.”

Anything else. God, the straw that broke the camel’s back. Because he knew what had already happened, but so help him if he wasn’t going to try and stop whatever happened next. “Thank you.”

“Come on, I got pancakes burning on the stove.”

Bucky put the rest of my stuff in my room, and the rest of the evening everyone watched movies and ate popcorn and tried to ignore the mounting terror that was growing in my throat.

It was around midnight when I walked into my own room, too tired to turn the light on. I kicked off my shoes and crawled into bed, jeans and all, but I felt something wet and sticky when I laid down completely. This wouldn’t have been the first prank pulled between myself and the Star Spangled Man with a Plan, but this felt different.

“FRIDAY, turn the lights on.”

I almost threw up. The sheets of my bed were covered in blood. I could feel it seeping into my clothes and hair. Who the hell got into the compound? Who the hell knew I was coming?

I started screaming — a perfectly natural response to the situation — and Wanda burst into my room. Her eyes were gleaming red and her magic was dancing on her hands. “Y/N, what the hell?”

I sat up completely and tried (and failed) to keep my voice from quivering as I said, “Wanda, can you call nine-one-one and get the officer from the patrol car in here, please?” She ran away quickly, already shouting out to FRIDAY.

I had seen enough cop shows to know not to move, because even my hair became evidence the second I laid down. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Y/N, what the hell, Wanda just told us —“ Sam and Bucky came crashing in, but stopped short at the sight of me covered in blood.

“Can one of you grab my phone and call ‘Detective Peralta?’”

Sam stepped forward and put the phone to his ear. “Yeah, this is Y/N Y/L/N’s phone. She has a couple things she wants to tell you.“ He put the call on speaker and held it close.

At this point, I was moving from my unbelievably-terrified phase to unbelievably-frantic phase. That didn’t make my urge to cry any less potent, but it at least helped me get through the next conversation. “Jake? Can I call you Jake? I feel like you’ve seen so much into my life in the last few days that I’ve earned the right to call you by your first name. Anyways, if you knew who you had just talked to on the phone you’d piss yourself. You’ll never —“

“Breathe, Y/N. Just shut up for a second and breathe.” I inhaled sharply, which was a bad call, because now all I could smell and taste was blood, which almost made me throw up all over again. “Okay, what did you call me about?”

“I’m laying in a pool of blood and I need you and the Nine-Nine to get here and do your fucking jobs because I’m freaking out.”

“Are you still at the safe house?”

“Yeah, and I don’t know where your patrol car officer is, but shouldn’t they be out here protecting me?” I would’ve kept chewing him and his precinct out, but Sam took the phone from my hand and gave Jake the ‘OK’ to come to the compound.

Wanda ran back with the officer behind her, both breathing heavy. “I brought. The officer.”

“About fucking time,” I muttered.

You’re acting like a bitch, Y/N.

Yeah, well, you unknowingly lay down in a pool of blood and tell me how pleasant you’re feeling afterward. ‘Frantic’ had left the building and ‘pissed as hell’ had taken full residence in my attitude. And the brunt of it was directed at the undeserving.

“Can you take some goddamn pictures already so I can get out of these clothes?”

“I, uh, should really wait for forensics.”

I groaned and looked at Bucky. “Do me a favor and give me something to throw.” He just stepped forward and held out his metal arm.

“How ‘bout something to hold onto.”

I ended up getting blood between the grooves of his plating, but Bucky assured me it was easy to clean. It took over an hour — even with all of their sirens — for the Nine-Nine to get to the compound, and another half hour on top of that for all of their pictures to be taken before I could shower and change clothes. Do you know how humiliating it is for a teenage girl to have to change and leave behind blood-soaked clothes for an entire forensics team to investigate and study? I hope you never have to know for yourself, because nothing made me want to claw my own eyes out and burn myself alive more than that.

I used Wanda’s shower, because her room was just across the hall, but I refused to sleep in a closed room anymore. I refused to even close my eyes, because it seemed that every time I blinked some other sort of shit hit the fan.

“Y/N?”

I was so fucking tired of hearing the sound of my own name.

“What’s the message this time, Jake?”

He didn’t bother sugar-coating it. He handed his phone over and I was too tired to stop the panic I felt in my throat as I looked at the barely-legible letters.

I will always find you.

“They are really milking this whole ‘five word message’ thing.” I handed his phone back to him. “It’s my blood, isn’t it?”

“You’re way better at this than you let on. Yeah, it’s your blood. Hopefully we can get something from the video footage, but given all of the connecting evidence, I’m thinking whoever is responsible will reach out in some way.” This was the part where he sighed heavily and looked disappointed in himself. “Unfortunately, because of the current state of the investigation, the FBI is going to be taking over this case. They’re already on their way to start their own investigation.”

“Of fucking course.” I stood up and started pacing, and before I knew it I was throwing pillows across the room. I reached for his glass of water and was ready to throw, but someone came up behind me and pulled my fingers away before I could cause any real damage. “Hey —“

Jess stood behind me and set the glass on the table. “Don’t start pulling that shit, Y/N. You haven’t thrown stuff since you were twelve.” Jake awkwardly stepped out of the living room, but it didn’t matter; you could’ve heard our conversation no matter where you were in the compound

I wiped at the tears on my cheeks. “Well I was twelve last time my parents left me, so, old habits.”

“Don’t go back to that, you’ve come too far.”

“Of course I’m acting like a twelve year old, that’s how I feel!” I groaned and grabbed another pillow, but this time I threw it at her. “I lost both of my parents in less than three days just when we were getting back to a good place! And all I want to do is scream and cry and burst into flame, but I have to be the adult and keep it all together when I feel like I’m dying!”

I didn’t care about how badly I was crying. I didn’t care about much of anything. I just wanted to finally have something as tangible and damaging in front of me as I did inside of me.

“Don’t tell me that I’m moving backwards, because I’m doing everything I can just to stand up straight.” I left her and ran through the front door, all the way to the edge of the property.

In Avatar: The Last Airbender, Iroh says lightning can only be handled by someone who is in balance. Well, that’s not necessarily true. Creating it, sure. But harnessing it from a different source? That’s a lot of emotion that has to be channeled into draining the power from one source and using it for yourself.

And boy did I have plenty of emotion.

I pulled the energy straight out of the sky. (Thor who?) It probably wasn’t the best idea, considering the sprinklers made everything in sight slightly damp, but I didn’t care; I couldn’t get fried, and anyone else stupid enough to follow me out here would soon learn a very important lesson.

My hands were glowing white with electricity. And I just kept pulling more and more of it out of the sky until all I could see was white.

And then I let it all go.

I screamed until my throat was raw. I screamed until I saw red. I screamed until there was nothing left in me, and then I kept screaming. The ground around me caved in and the blackened grass started smoldering and I still screamed.

And then I sobbed. I knelt on the grass and sobbed.

////////////

I was determined to just sleep outside that night, but the adult-ier adults had a different idea. It was Bucky who finally braved coming outside and getting me. “C’mon, Y/N, let’s get you in bed.” He ended up just carrying me back to the compound, but instead of going to Wanda’s room — where I thought he was headed — he skipped that hallway completely and chose the next one.

The one with Peter’s room.

He lightly kicked open the door and gently put me on the bed, but someone sat beside me on the bed. My eyes flew open, ready to attack, but when they adjusted to the darkness, I just gasped and jumped into his arms.

Peter.

“Take care of her,” was all I heard Bucky say, and I felt Peter nod, but I didn’t dare look up. For a girl who’s barely known him for a year, I’ve become strongly attached to Peter Parker, and I was realizing now that he was a constant in my life that I sorely depended on (not so good in the long run, but I could worry about that later).

“How did you get here so fast?” A part of me wanted to look at his face and know it was Peter, but I kept my head in the crook of his neck, listening to his steady heartbeat and reassuring myself that was all I needed.

“Doctor Strange. Sam called him after you ran outside.”

I did finally look up at him, and tears I didn’t even know I had left decided to make an appearance. “Yeah, you never would’ve made it past the police line.”

He smiled softly (I would never get over that smile) and then leaned back. “Get some sleep, Y/N.”

He immediately felt the affect his words had on me. My heart jumped and started racing, my breathing picked up, my fists clenched. “Hey, hey, hey.” But one reassuring hand on my neck and jaw and I calmed down. Slightly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” I choked out, “because I can’t lose anyone else I care about.”

I don’t remember falling asleep. I only remember a tangle of legs and Peter’s heartbeat under my ear.

////////////

Quentin Beck was holding me by the throat. “You couldn’t stop me from killing all of those people. You couldn’t stop me from hurting Peter. And now you can’t stop me from taking your parents.” MJ and Ned and Flash and Betty and Peter and Mom and Dad all formed out of the rubble and then disappeared before I could save them. Beck squeezed my neck tighter and tighter —

I gasped awake. I couldn’t breathe deeply enough, my lungs refused to fill completely, and it was still dark enough outside that I couldn’t see anything around me. “It wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real.” I rubbed my hands over my eyes, trying to erase the nightmare, but it wouldn’t go away; Beck’s hands around my throat were still there, like a phantom pain.

Then a hand gently grabbed my leg and I heard a yelp as I blew a gust of air at whoever it was.

Peter landed on the ground with a thud.

I crawled to the edge and let my adjusted eyes focus on his outline. “Shit, Peter, I’m so sorry.”

He rubbed his elbow for a second but then looked up at me. “Are you okay?”

“I just airbended you off the bed and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

He stood up and sat beside me, his hand finding mine. “You weren’t breathing, Y/N. You were choking on air and it was scaring the hell out of me.”

“It-“ I wrapped my fingers around his and took a shaky breath, finally feeling like I had enough air. “It was just a nightmare.”

“Okay.” He glanced around and his eyes landed on the alarm clock. 5:13. “Want to go train?”

I was fucking exhausted. But at this point, I was taking Jake’s word and waiting for the next move. So maybe training would do some good. “Yeah, okay.”

We trained well after the sun came up. Peter kept to the higher alcoves of the gym, while I liked to stay on the ground. But we did a couple ‘blindfold rounds’ until we could easily pick each other out amongst the ‘noise.’

“One more blindfold round,” he said through his teeth. One of the bots clipped him in the side and he was leaning heavily, but he insisted. “As hard as you’ve got, FRIDAY.”

We tied our blindfolds around our eyes one more time and took our stances. At this point, we weren’t just practicing our gifts; we were (at least I was) letting go of our inhibitions toward each other. My attention was on him and the bots and nothing else. (If I wasn’t sure how head over heels I was for this guy, I was pretty positive about it now.)

“Three.”

I wiggled my fingers in anticipation.

“Two.”

Peter’s shoes rubbed against the floor.

“One.”

Don’t ask me how the tech worked. I still have no idea how they managed to create simulations that were actually tangible, but I was really grateful, because it meant Peter and I got accurate practice. I rolled forward, a shot barely edging above me, while Peter immediately went for the high ground, dodging the bots that tried to keep up.

I didn’t just try to feel them while they were on the ground, I honed in on the metal surrounding them and the electricity coursing through them. I ripped the bots to shreds and made them collapse in on themselves and caused sparks to flash across the room when I doused others with water.

Peter jumped on top of different bots and used his taser webs to take most of them down, but he threw some my way, and vice versa. The whole point of the training session was to build trust, and we were trying our best to be successful.

I couldn’t feel any more bots with electricity in the room, and Peter came down to the ground, but before either of us took our blindfolds off, I felt someone else step onto the mat. Someone I didn’t recognize.

I formed a water whip and wrapped it around the foreign person, then I ripped off my blindfold, only to see my water whip attached to thin air. Or —

“Who the hell are you?”

They were invisible. But I knew without a doubt that a person was on the other end of my whip. I walked closer and froze the rest of the water around their body with jagged edges leading to their head — at least what I assumed was their head.

“I said,” I reached my hands out and tried to find some purchase, “who the hell are you?” My fingers wrapped around what I assumed was their throat and I squeezed.

His facade gave out quickly. I didn’t recognize him, but that didn’t matter; FRIDAY was always monitoring.

“Hey,” Peter said quietly and put a hand on my shoulder, but I didn’t relent.

“Answer the goddamn question, or you’ll have more to worry about than some slight freezer burn.”

“It doesn’t matter who I am. They’re coming for you, Y/N, and they won’t stop until you’ve paid for what you’ve done.”

My grip lessened, just a bit. “When?”

“Soon.” A haggard cough escaped his lips. “You really shouldn’t have left your friends so vulnerable.”

My eyes went wide, and just as my grip slackened some more, Wanda and Sam barged into the room. Her red magic kept him trapped, and Sam put duct tape over his mouth. “FBI is already on their way. How did you know he was here?”

“I just did.” I let go completely and let the water thaw to a puddle. “How fast can we get to the city?”

Sam’s eyebrows creased. “Strange could have you there in seconds, why?”

“Something else is going to happen, and it’s going to happen there.”

tags: @eridanuswave @vampirestrawberries @yougottalovefandoms

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #spiderman #spiderman far from home #peter parker imagine #peter parker series #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x mj #marvel comics #mcu #reader insert #avengers #ned leeds #michelle jones #flash thompson

20 notes · View notes

ryugarika · 3 years

Note

Hi! *Nervous giggle*. So, umm... What if Sam and Dean are on a hunt but get hit with a nasty sex spell? One that leaves Dean insatiably horny and Sam unable to say no? Like, Sam literally can't verbally protest. And Dean's mind is so clouded by lust and need that he can't at all read the signals his little brother sends him. Or maybe he simply can't care? All he knows is that he HAS to get release. And poor Sammy is his only god damn option... *Ragged exhale*... Yes?

I managed to forget I can get asks... Woops mobile...

So here we go, full on angst for the lovers!!

---

They've been hit by sex curses before. It's an easy hex to put together and have at the ready, so witches use 'em as standby weapons pretty much every time the Winchesters show up to put an end to their scheme.

A quick wank in the back seat is usually enough to fix the problem. They're almost immune to them by now.

But every so often a witch manages to put together something more powerful. This one - the one who's actually getting away as Dean tries to get to his feet instead of rutting against the leg of a chair - managed not only a stronger hex, she managed several different kinds. A potent cocktail of lust and need and nownownownow...

"Sam?" he tries, voice breaking into a moan as he gives up on getting up. He needs friction on his dick too much to give up his grinding; even if it's uncomfortable as hell... It's a chair leg for God's sake.

He expects an answer, maybe a moan... But all he gets in return is silence. And that, that does give Dean the power to abandon his chair to crawl around. Sam was right behind him. Why isn't he answering?

He spots his brother just as another wave of need hits him. He groans, and collapses on Sam's heaving chest, humps the floor, and checks for signs of life. Breathing good, heart rate high, eyes open but unfocused...

"Sam- fuck, Sammy?"

Sam is there, Dean knows he is... He's just stuck inside. Hexed up to hell no doubt. Mildly different combo than Dean, but there is no way to fix that shit if he can't think beyond 'must fuck now yes now'.

Hand down his pants, Dean figures out wanking isn't an option. All he can do is get right to the edge and then hang there in agony. Bent over Sam's prone body, Dean feels like crying.

"'s not working Sam. I can't come. I need to, but I can't. Fucking witches, man."

Sam doesn't have any wisdom, just breathes deep and slow where he'd fallen. Watching him, dean licks his lips and realises what he's got to do.

They've fucked around before. Sure... But you don't fuck someone who can't actually say yes or no. Dean's not that kind of guy. He's never been that kind of guy. He's... He's going to become that kind of guy...

"Sam," he falters, realises he's already humping the guy's leg. "Sam I need to fuck you. Ok? Please? Please I need to."

Sam doesn't respond. Doesn't so much as blink twice to show that he's ok with it.

"I'll be careful." Dean promises as he fumbles with Sam's belt; drags the clothes out of the way faster than he means to. He's already rougher than he wants to be.

Things only go downhill from there. There's no lube, so when Sam's half naked Dean tries to be nice. He's a foreplay person. He needs this to feel as good as it possibly can. It's the least he can do for Sam. So obviously, Sam comes to life the second Dean's tongue finds his hole. Not full life. No real cognitive function. But he starts fighting Dean.

And Dean has to fight back, has to keep Sam's thrashing body still enough to get spit and fingers inside him. Which is when the sounds start. Crying and begging... For no. For stop.

"I'm sorry." Dean gasps, pleads for forgiveness as he forces himself on his brother. He needs to do this. He has to. He can't imagine waiting. Sex. Now. Please forgive me.

Getting Sam into position takes effort. It takes an arm lock and all of Dean's body weight. And it takes effort to get his raging hard dick inside of Sam's barely prepped hole. Sam might be held in place but his body is still digging its claws in and fighting for all its worth.

"I'm sorry." Dean cries into Sam's hair, holding him close and tight for all the wrong reasons. Whispers it over and over as he fucks faster and harder as he chaces what the hex is demanding of him. Sam screams, high and pained, shivers and shakes. Breaks Dean's heart and he can't stop.

Orgasm comes at last and too late. Leaves Dean drained, and the fight drains out of Sam just as quick.

"Dean?"

#woops my mind slipped #i wrote this #Wincest #Non con #Hex #Lemon

17 notes · View notes

silentprincess17 · 3 years

Text

Sometimes Things Have To Get Worse Before They Get Better

This is essentially a darker, heavier alternate take on Memory #7 - Blades of the Yiga. I wanted to write a fic with a competent Yiga Clan. (Yes you read that right). It is very angsty in the beginning and then becomes fluffy (hence the title!)

Summary: Link and Zelda have returned from Vah Naboris with Urbosa and have spent the night in Kara Kara Bazaar Inn. Link wakes up and finds her missing.

Cue the angst.

This story is complete and I will post each chapter daily on here but you can read the whole thing on AO3

Rating: Mature (Graphic descriptions of violence) Pairing: Link/Zelda (Zelink) Characters: Link, Zelda, The Yiga Clan, Master Kohga Trigger warnings for this chapter: Descriptions of blood, wounds and death. Also: there is a spoiler for one of the side quests in AOC (one of the things Link does for Zelda) and it's in the third paragraph before the last one so it's nearly at the end.

Read Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Ambushed

Link ran, sprinting through the sand, his boots coughing up a flurry of grains, sword already pulled out in his hand, pulsing as it recognised his anxiety.

A ball of fear erupted in his chest, and suddenly Link found his mouth dry and unable to swallow. He couldn’t deny it to himself then, it wasn’t just duty that motivated his actions. Hell, this-this need to protect her… It felt like something he’d always done, an innate instinct. Something deeper than his vows as her Knight tied him to her, probably something to do with his past lives, but he didn’t know how to explain it, and really, it scared him, sometimes, this urge that he had little control over. A lot of things scared him about the sword actually, and he wondered just how separate he truly was from it sometimes.

Despite running flat out, he was still a considerable distance away, but even from here, he could tell, it wasn’t looking good. She had run, valiantly, but there were two of them up ahead of her, he couldn’t make out just yet what Yiga Clan member they were, but he could see the Yiga Foot soldier behind her. And crap, she’d slipped and fallen, and Farore, just – just a few more seconds and he’d make it.

Please, please, please.

His heart thundered in his chest; his hands icy cold, clammy around the handle of his sword.

The three Yiga Foot soldiers approached her, okay, okay, this wasn’t good, no, they had Vicious Sickles, but he had the Sword That Seals The Darkness, and what better definition of darkness than the Yiga Clan, he would make it- and

Spirits

Three Yiga Blademaster’s poofed into existence beside the Foot soldiers, and together they slashed their windcleavers, aimed at his Princess’s throat.

NO.

Link jumped, sliced the first Foot Soldier in the chest, blood spurting outwards and he nimbly twisted to avoid it landing on him, and then aimed for the first Blademaster. Just before his blade hit that idiot’s neck, the other two began to laugh. The sickening Yiga Clan laugh that was so incredibly patronising, and Link was already feeling bad enough this morning and he had little patience left.

“Not so fast, Hero.” The Blademaster in the centre clicked his fingers and another three appeared behind the Princess, all of them pointing the tips of their windcleavers at her neck.

Holy Hylia. There were now 5 blades aimed at her, one of them pressed closed enough that she couldn’t swallow without fear of drawing blood. And he couldn’t bring himself to actually look at her, the one glance he’d had would forever scar him, she looked downright petrified. The sight made his blood boil, the sword glowed blue, but he had to be logical.

It wouldn’t do to attack the one whose neck was under his sword only for the other five to behead the Princess. Yes, he was fast. Yes, he was blessed with rapid reflexes. But even he recognised it would be impossible to eliminate all five without one of them harming the Princess before he finished. It would take seconds for them to nick her carotid artery, whilst he needed to slice through five necks. This would have been so much easier if she wasn’t in the middle of the fray. A simple charged sword attack aimed in the air would have exterminated the lot. He also couldn’t help but curse himself because he’d been an idiot and forgotten his bow, he hadn’t picked it up in all the rush of Zelda disappearing and now he severely regretted it. What he wouldn’t have done for a few electric arrows right now. He would have shocked the life out of them with all their metal weaponry.

“There’s too many of us, Hero, with too many swords at the ready to behead this pretty little blond thing. We only really have an issue with her Royal Holiness here, for she supposedly holds the power to seal away our God.” He laughed, “Although she isn’t that Holy, is she, eh boys?”

They all broke out into laughter, and Link decided that was the best opportunity he was going to get. He stabbed the sword into the first Yiga Blademaster’s neck, a fountain of red erupted out, just as Link shoved his body towards one of the remaining Foot Soldiers, who got trapped underneath the sheer dying bulk of the man. He rolled, pulling the Princess down so she was out of direct range of those windcleavers, and then he unceremoniously chucked her towards the opening he’d just created. She seemed to get the message and started to run, whilst he began to dance with his sword.

Move one to the jugular vein, two to the heart plus some ribs, three a large spin attack against the last Foot Soldier and three Blademasters who lunged at him, but he only belatedly realised one of them didn’t have a weapon, had they used the sickle as a boomerang? He distantly felt a muscle spasm, but that didn’t distract him, no, he ploughed through with the movement, effectively plunging the sword through the layers of skin, muscle and fat, and he leapt out of the resulting crimson blood spray that blended in with their armour. He had to admit, even if he wasn’t comfortable with the whole context of the sword and the trauma of seeing everything they had gone through, it was a beautiful blade. The best he’d ever had the honour of wielding.

His focus was shattered, suddenly, as he heard a painfully familiar scream, was it a memory or – no. That was His Zelda. He belatedly realised the last Yiga Foot soldier hadn’t remained trapped. He’d chased after the Princess and he had three darts pressed her abdomen, hard enough that she was whimpering, with his sickle wrapped around her neck, the curved edge milliseconds from ending her life. She had one hand alternating between trying to claw the mask off the Yiga’s face to ineffectively grasping at his hand wielding the sickle, the other outstretched to him, and it broke him a little.

His heart ached, his pulse thundering hard in his ears, because she was too far away for him to jump to her, too far to do anything without a damn bow. The bodies that littered the floor, and the blood that coated the sand around him weren’t enough, the one that remained would kill her, before he could do anything. Of that he had no doubt.

“Lay down your sword. And you may leave with your life. We do not care for the Hero, you’re simply a vessel for the Hero’s spirit and even if we kill you, you’ll just come back in some other lowlife’s body. We only care for the supposedly High Priestess Hylian Princess Zelda and the Sword that Seals the Darkness. Without those two, Hyrule will be blessed by Calamity Ganon’s unbridled power!”

He hesitated, and in that one second another four Yiga Blademasters appeared behind him, “DO NOTHING Hero. Remember what position your darling Princess is in.” The Foot soldier tightened his hold on Zelda and pressed the blade deeper into her skin and it cut into her neck, causing a small line of blood to leak down the blade.

That was the tipping point, Link saw red, and howled, hurling the Master Sword so that it pierced that wretched mask, straight into the bastard’s eye, and swung down with gravity to cut through his face.

And he turned around to face those remaining Yiga Blademaster’s with his bare hands, but instead he smelt the familiar incense of cool saffilina, which rang alarm bells in his head, this was used as a sleeping drought. He couldn’t do much more than gasp before a towel was rammed into his face, and he struggled against it, but suddenly the smell became so much more concentrated. He blinked, trying his hardest not to breathe, but the haze that descended on his mind regardless meant it was far, far more potent than the one he’d made for Zelda.

All of a sudden, he felt disturbingly dizzy, his legs like jelly underneath him. His eyelids abruptly felt incredibly heavy- he closed his eyes almost unwittingly, and then struggled to open them again. He barely managed to open one flimsily, and he saw vague red shapes ensnaring his Princess and all he could do was fall to the floor on his knees, shameful that he’d failed her.

She was screaming his name, and all he could do was raise a pitiful arm out to her, before he succumbed, and all he saw was black.

15 notes · View notes

starlightsearches · 4 years

Text

Scoundrel

So my inbox decided to delete every request that I had, but lucky for me I actually copied them all down this time! Here’s three requests that I’ve combined into one story, hope you all love it!

Anonymous asked: Lol you reblogged a head cannon from @historymiss about kylo and his “scoundrel” skills and it is just so funny to think about, I’d love to read a fic by you about it. Maybe reader is some type of smuggler being hunted down by the first order and they get away but not before they impress each other with shady skills?

Anonymous asked: Ooh! How about a prompt? “It’s a hobby of mine to prove you wrong” reader to kylo?

Anonymous asked: kylo x reader “is that blood?” “... no?”

Requests are closed ✨

Kylo Ren x Reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: some angst, language, mentions of sex pollen 😏, mild horniness, not a happy ending 🙁

There's no light at all in your hiding place, just the hard press of metal against your spine and the sound of your own breathing. You close your eyes, not that it changes the much, fill your lungs as quietly as you can manage and then hold your breath, listening closely to the sounds of footsteps as they move past you, the modulated mumbles of storm troopers as they head towards the exit of your ship. It's not easy to track their movements just by sound, but you don't think they found your stash, thank gods. If they all get off your fucking ship, you can be on your way in no time.

"Search completed, sir. No sign of the fugitives." You can just barely hear one of the troopers report to some silent supervisor, and your mind catches on the last word. Fugitives? Who were they looking for? Some people would pay a lot of credits for information like that. Despite its chaotic beginnings, today could still be a lucky one. You press your ear closer to the false wall that you hide behind, furrowing your brow in concentration.

"Complete searches of the rest of the ships, they’re here somewhere," there's a second voice now, and as soon as you hear it, ice floods your veins. You'd recognize that voice anywhere. Shit.

Your previous confidence in your hiding place leaves immediately, but you can't move, your sense of self-preservation still convinced that he might slip up this time. You're startled from that delusion almost immediately by a loud pounding sound, and then the panel covering your little shelter gives way to blinding light.

You land on your hands and knees with a loud smack, the impact driving spikes of pain through your bones. Someone—a trooper you assume—is on you immediately, yanking your hands behind your back. As soon as your eyes adjust, he's in your line of sight, filling your view with an expansive blackness.

"You again," he's crouched down beside you, the words almost quiet enough to be a whisper, and said with a kind of reverence that might only exist in your imagination. It's been a long time since you last saw Kylo Ren, but it feels like no time at all.

"We can't keep meeting like this, Commander," you reply, coating your words in a healthy level of sarcasm to hide any trembling that could break through, "People might think that you're in love with me."

He doesn't respond, because he never does, but he lifts his hand to your face, rubbing his thumb roughly against your cheek, the seam of his glove scraping against your skin. "Is that blood?" he asks in the same even tone, raising his hand to eye level; you can just barely make out the dark red smear against the black leather.

" ... No?" And then after a beat, "well, it's not mine." Nothing changes in the man before you, but you hear a modulated snicker from behind, and the trooper mutters an apology when Ren shoots him what you have to assume would be a glare if you could see the face behind his mask.

"Search them," Kylo Ren stands to his full height, and you follow close behind, yanked to your feet unceremoniously by the trooper. Some might find this situation humiliating, being cuffed and patted down on your own ship, but you're able to ignore it rather easily, choosing instead to keep your eyes trained on Ren. He returns your stare, his arms crossed tight over his broad chest, fingers flexing rhythmically against the swell of his biceps. No, being handled like this doesn't bother you at all, but you think it might bother him.

Your weapons are removed one by one, and it's a few minutes before the trooper is satisfied, attaching the cuffs to your wrists and giving you one final shove to signal the end of his search. "Should I take them back to the command shuttle?"

Ren stays silent, and your mind kicks in to lightspeed as you try to come up with a plan. If they got you off this ship, your chances of escape would diminish greatly. You'd need to stay aboard, but how? Fighting both of them wouldn't be an option, especially not weaponless. You'll have to make this up as you go and hope things play out in your favor.

"Leave the prisoner with me for interrogation," he says to the trooper, and you stifle a sigh of relief, "I'll need to search the ship again." You try to keep your emotions in check as you watch the trooper walk towards the exit, following him around the corner and out the door with your eyes. It's just you and Ren now. You could make this work.

He breaks the silence as soon as you're alone, plucking the thoughts right out of your head, "you're not going to escape."

"That's funny, I think you said that the last time we ran into each other," you keep your reply light, your tone laden with a healthy dose of mockery so he won't look any deeper. It's not easy to play tricks on a man with powers like his, which is why you've got to keep him distracted, uncomfortable. After all, this is your arena—he'll have to play by your rules.

He takes you by the shoulder, pushing you further into the ship with a shove that's probably meant to be harsh, but there's no heat behind it. "You can't get away from me," he says, more emphatically. His fingers press deeper into your shoulder, a heavy grip to emphasize his point, like that’s all it would take to keep you with him. He should really know better by now.

You shrug out of his grasp with a little twist, turning to face him in the small corridor, chest to chest, your bound arms sandwiched between you, your own reflection staring back at you through the eyes of his helmet. "I wouldn't count on it, Commander. It's become a hobby of mine to prove you wrong." Your voice is barely a whisper, the heat of your breath creating little clouds of fog on his mask—you're closer than most would dare to be. It's dangerous, the way you get in his space, dangerous how you challenge him, but gods, do you like it.

He chooses to ignore you again, refusing to take the bait, and instead continues his path down the hall, pulling you towards the cargo hold. It's mostly empty right now, with a few scattered transport bins littering the corners—just empty enough to fool any asshole who might try to poke their nose into your business.

"What are you hauling?" Ren asks, unconvinced by your sparse collection, searching the hold with slow, methodical movements.

"I don't know if you could tell, but I'm actually between jobs at the moment," you kick a crate of broken blasters to sell your lie, but it's clear he's not convinced as he walks the length of the hold, searching for any signs of hidden compartments. You take the chance to look around, as well, seeing if there’s anything that might aid your escape, or at least help you get the damn binders off. It’s a waste of time—there’s nothing in here for you, and even if there was, you wouldn’t be able to get to it without Ren noticing. You look back at him, just for a moment, checking to see if he’s distracted enough to ignore your scheming. By then it’s too late—you hear the sound of the panel lifting first, and it's only a second before he's opening the crate hidden beneath, too quick for the cry that rips from your chest but gets caught on the way out.

"Spice, really?" He reaches a gloved hand towards the container of the innocuous-looking yellow powder and your heart threatens to leap out of your throat, your feet moving towards him of their own accord.

"Don't touch that!" The words finally break free as you throw yourself at him—you don't really have a choice. The impact is hard, hard enough to upset his balance as he stumbles backward, catching you in his grasp, his hands gripping at your shoulders to steady you, too. You’re anchored in his arms, but your breathing is coming hard and fast, the adrenaline making home in your veins even if the danger has passed.

"Afraid I might contaminate your supply?" he whispers the question, the words coming low and mocking through the modulator in his helmet. He thinks it's his turn to get under your skin.

"That's not spice," you say, breathing hard, panic still coursing. "It's a highly potent kind of pollen used to, uh, stimulate arousal. Getting even the smallest amount of it on your skin or in your lungs can create an effect that lasts for weeks." He goes still against you, solid as stone, but you can feel his heartbeat running rampant through his body as he realizes the meaning of your words. Neither of you dare to move, afraid of worsening your already precarious situation, even though you’re well out of reach of the container. The tension has sucked all the air from the room and you stutter, trying to bring it back, "there's a king in the Kazyk sector who pays me good money to haul it for him."

"Is it contraband?" His gaze flits from you back to the powder, and then back again. Even though you can't see them, the pressure of his eyes weighs on you, bringing a heat to your cheeks.

"Depends on who you ask. It is expensive, highly coveted, and notoriously hard to transport. It can cause . . . complications when moved, if you're not careful."

"Complications?" You feel yourself flush, your entire body uncomfortably warm—the temperature control on your ship must be malfunctioning. It's only made worse by your proximity to Ren; you can feel his heat passing through the thick fabric he wears, smothering you.

"Do I need to spell it out for you, Commander?" You had wanted to mock him again, using his title like that, but the whisper that leaves your parted lips is absent of any ridicule, your words so soft and wanton that it sends a shiver up your own spine. You can't help but wonder if he's blushing under the mask—if his thoughts are currently consumed, like yours are, by images of bodies intertwined, heady moans passed between parted lips, his hands—ungloved—exploring every inch of you . . .

Your wrists tug against their restraints, unbidden. It's a good thing that you're still cuffed, because if they weren't, you're not sure what would stop you peeling back those layers he wears, taking off that stupid helmet, finally revealing his face. What would he look like, laid bare before you? What would it feel like to be encircled in his arms with nothing between you but desire?

You ball your fists, fingernails pressing crescents into your palms as you try to remove these thoughts from your mind, forcing yourself out of his grasp with a sharp tug, trying to breathe again. Gods, what is wrong with you? Some of the pollen must have gotten into the air and made its way into your system. You turn back, hoping to confirm your theory, but the little pile of yellow powder sits undisturbed, and the air in the cargo hold is heavy and still.

"Just put the lid back on it. I'm not hauling anything else," you command, and to your surprise, Ren obeys, replacing the cover on the container gently so as to not disturb the powder beneath. He grabs you again, by the arm this time so that he can keep his distance, thank gods, not that it helps you cool off—the heat stays trapped beneath your skin for much longer than you’d care to admit.

He takes you through the rest of the ship, stopping occasionally to open one of the many hidden storage compartments scattered throughout, cracking locks, breaking codes seemingly without even trying. He finds all of them—even the ones you made yourself, ones you were sure nobody would be able to locate without your help. It doesn't matter anyway; you were telling the truth before. You're not hauling anything else.

You lean against the wall, watching as he rips away the edge of another panel in the floor, finding it empty, and you roll your eyes. "Not to be a dick, but can't people like you just feel if I'm harboring fugitives on my ship?" He looks up at you, and you hope he can’t see the way you’re still shaking, hope he can’t feel any of the shame you’re trying so desperately to hide. You need him off your ship—no more complications, no more interference.

"People like me?" he asks, with the slightest hint of laughter, just barely detectable behind the modulation. So he does feel it—your embarrassment, the leftover yearning that you can’t seem to elude.

You roll your eyes again, as if the movement itself could create the nonchalance you’re trying so hard to mimic. You want to be annoyed at him. You want to be unaffected, cool despite what just happened. But it’s not working. "You know what I mean. Couldn't you just sense them?"

"I know you're not hiding the people we're searching for,” he admits, sliding the floor panel back in place, “and I found all of these- "he gestures vaguely down the hall, the evidence of his handiwork littered along the corridor "-on my own." It’s hard to be sure when you can’t see his face, but you think he might be smug about it all.

You furrow your brow, thoughts humming, trying to piece together this interaction in a way that makes sense. When that fails, you resort to mockery.

“. . . So you've been ripping my whole ship apart for what? Just to show off?” Your heart jumps when you see him freeze—the physical changes slight, but not beyond your notice—a slow smile spreading across your face. You’ve got him now.

“You are trying to show off, aren’t you? I have to admit it, I’m impressed,” he stays where he is as you move closer, the visor of his mask trained on you, his muscles taut like he’s ready to run. Who would have thought that, in this scenario, you’d be the dominant one?

“That’s not-” he stutters—you can hear it through the vocoder, and you laugh, just a short, breathy thing. You shouldn’t let yourself get distracted from the goal at hand, but this is much more fun.

“No need to be embarrassed, I tend to have that effect on people. Everybody loves a scoundrel.” You flash him a cheeky smile, and he bristles, folding his arms over his chest again and standing to his full height. You can see the tension in him, practically pulling him apart. He wants to run from you. He wants to stay.

“Not me,” he says like he wants to believe it, but you can’t miss the way his voice shakes.

“You especially, Commander. The Order and its people are far too proper for someone like you. There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life.”

The silence that follows your words fills the space, leaving little room for air. Maybe you’re hallucinating, but he might inch closer, his fingers twitching, maybe to reach for the latches in his helmet, maybe to bury them in your hair.

The sound of pounding footsteps against the durasteel floor shocks the breath back into your lungs, but even as the trooper dashes into view, Ren doesn’t pull away.

“Sir, there’s a problem,” the trooper huffs, and after a pause, Ren rips his eyes away from you. The trooper hesitates, now, realizing that he’s barged in on what probably looks to him like a private moment. “Uh, there’s a small band of Resistance fighters attacking the troops, we believe they’re here for the fugitives.”

Ren’s immediately on the move, his cloak snapping from the speed of his departure, and you and the trooper glance at each other for a moment before they follow after Ren, and you do too, curious to see the commotion. Despite his limited headstart, Ren seems to have vanished from the corridors of your ship, no trace of him at all, the only sounds echoing through the hallway coming from your own footsteps and the soft jingle of the trooper’s movements.

The jingling. You’re almost to the door before you realize what that sound means, and you want to smack yourself. You can see the keys now, out of the corner of your eye. Escape had never been closer, and you almost missed it. You choose to ignore the voice in the back of your mind that reminds you about what had caused you to become so distracted. You don’t have time to think about it now. You have a plan.

The trooper startles when you yelp, tripping over nothing before you go sprawling, landing on the floor with a clang. You watch him from the ground as he stares back at you, hesitant, glancing towards the exit before his eyes fall to you again.

“A little help?” You sell it, make it look like a struggle as you try and fail to find your feet, but the trooper still doesn’t move just yet, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. Then he takes the bait.

“Thanks,” you mumble under your breath, falling into him as he pulls you to your feet, bracing yourself against the duraplast of his uniform before pulling the keys from his belt with a deft tug and tucking them into your palm.

He doesn’t even notice, running as soon as you're stable, and you follow behind, spinning the key in your palms angling it just right until you hear the snap of release. You catch the cuffs, trying to limit the noise they make as they fall from your sore and stiff wrists. You’re free.

The trooper exits the ship immediately, off to help his comrades, but Ren is still by the door, deflecting the odd blaster fire. Most of the fighting is far past your ship, on the other side of the yard, but one or two stragglers have decided to aim his way. You watch from around the corner, listen as the sounds of fired shots ends with strangled cries. You move in behind him, getting close, holding the cuffs in place as best you can.

“Looks like the fight has moved on without you,” you announce your presence, and he turns to look at you, but your eyes are on the saber, burning bright and wicked by his side. “Impressive, but not very useful long range. Blasters are more . . . versatile.”

He gives you a hard look—a searching look—before raising his hand, the fingers flexing in his gloves. Your blaster, the one the trooper pulled off of you earlier, nudges past you on its way to his hand and you jump out of the way, hardly noticing the smooth movement with which he fires, the bodies dropping even from this range as he shoots into the crowd with perfect accuracy.

You’ve never seen him in action like this before. Despite the number of times you had come face to mask with Kylo Ren, he’s never used his powers on you. Something about the realization is frightening.

“We need to leave,” he says, interrupting your thoughts, “back to my shuttle.” He’s looking at you again, head inclined, like it’s a question instead of a demand. And the stupidest part of you wants to go. You force that part of yourself to be quiet.

He deactivates his saber, drops your blaster and reaches for you, his hand stretched out the same way it had only a few moments ago, but there’s none of the same power behind it; you still feel the pull.

“I know,” he says, and the cuffs fall from your hands because there’s no point in hiding anymore, “but . . .you still could-” he swallows hard enough for you to hear through the modulator, “-we still could . . .”

You walk towards him, your footsteps slow and even and he trembles, his fingers shaking again for an entirely different reason, and they don’t stop, not when they meet your waist, not when your hands grip both sides of his helmet, trying to find a hold against the cold metal.

“I’ll tell you what, Commander,” you say with a whisper, pulling him closer, close enough to rest your forehead against his, “I’ll go with you . . . the next time you catch me.”

It’s a smooth movement, unexpected—first you pull him close, pressing a kiss to the front of his mask, imagining the way his lips must be flushing in response, imagining what it would be like without the ridiculous apparatus in the way. He’s unbalanced, a little surprised, and when you push him back he doesn’t anticipate it, falling, flailing, until he lands with a thud in the soft mud outside of your ship.

“Until next time, Commander!” you call down to him as the hatch lifts, running to the cockpit as fast as your legs will carry you. You’re in a panic as you start up the ship, a shake in your hands that makes it hard to hit the right controls but you don’t stop until you hit lightspeed, trying your hardest to breathe.

You plug in the right coordinates and sit back in the pilot’s chair, brushing your hand across your cheek, picking up the stray moisture that lingers there. You don’t remember when the tears started. You’re not sure how to stop. It seems like today isn’t your lucky day after all.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren #my writing #requests #anons #historymiss

81 notes · View notes