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semischarmed · 4 years ago

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The Visit

I glance at my phone. 30 minutes. 30 minutes in this chair waiting for the doctor. 30 minutes in a freezing cold examination room wearing nothing but the disposable gown the nurse told me to wear. Now, I’m normally quite patient, but I begin to worry that they may have simply forgotten about me. I sit up straight, ready to leave the chair and ask for the nurse, when my new doctor comes into the room in a rush.

“Hey, Hey! Sorry, sorry. My last patient meeting went a bit over. That alright?“ He grins and verdant eyes sparkle. The man was dreamy. I could say nothing beyond nodding in agreement.

“Great! Glad to hear it” he beams. I feel an explosion of warmth within my chest and stomach and can’t help but smile back.

”Thank you so much for understanding. I’m Doctor Ryan! Good to meet you.” I readily shake his hand. Firm. Sturdy. Calloused.

“Okay great, so we’re just gonna run through your vitals, and… says here you noticed an odd mark show up near your penis?” I flush bright red in embarrassment at the mention. Unperturbed, he continues without skipping a beat “Hmmm.. we’ll definitely want to get that checked. Probably harmless, but could be something bad… I know the nurse probably covered most of these questions and took your vitals, but [he smirks] just wanna sure we get everything checked correctly, alright?” Damn it. Doctors always have a such way with words, I can’t help but melt in their arms. I feel a numb happy sensation wash over me and again nod in agreement. He was cute, too cute. God. Of course, whatever he thought this appointment was, he was completely off. Most likely picked up the wrong sheet or something, cause I only came for some immunizations.

Still, the man has me spellbound. I comply with his every whim as he continues running through his normal questioning. In every word, he further puts my will to sleep, with every phrase he draws me closer. To me, his every sentence has progressively slowed the world around us. Not that I’m complaining. I am adrift, motionless in his pool of questioning, sandwiched between warm ocean and sunlight. For a short few moments, I am at peace. I was practically sleeping by the time the second round of questions finished. I feel a warm hand on my shoulder and break my spell slightly and I focus in on his beautiful face. “You okay there, bud?” More nods his way.

“Awesome. Let’s get started then.”

———

The physical was.. something else. We start with just an examination of my body. Pale, scholarly eyes remark on my every blemish, my every curve. It would be a nightmare in any other scenario, but in the secure glance of my doctor, I knew I was safe. Still, near his radiant heat, I could not help but get just a bit flustered. My answers are short, odd, my heart rate jumping to his vicinity.

He wiggles his stethoscope in the air. “We’re just gonna get your heart rate okay?” My mouth is hanging open and drooling slightly, but I nod. Really, it’s all I can do. Stunned to obedience. He just spoke so confidently, so assured in his examination. His tone was out of this world. It’s bright but resonant, like each word reverberated his command in my chest. His voice was no less potent. Sound-waves embrace the air with sweet honey, but an undertone of audible trust. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything else, still caught in this man’s spell. Now, a handsome man gets me feeling the same way a doctor often does. But he was both. I can manage nothing beyond a smile and continue nodding “okay.”

I moan at the touch of the stethoscope. It was ice. Penetrative, cold ice, but in his expert hands, it felt like gift from the man. I imagine the metal is a piece of him, precious metal, precious silver embedding itself in me. I want it in me forever- uh, the man, not the stethoscope.

He grunts. Fuck. “Sorry” I say sheepishly. That moan was definitely audible then. Further embarrassment floods me, only tempered by by the tingling sense of relaxation I felt in being examined by this man. He takes the odd outburst in stride, giving a half smile before continuing. “Believe it or not, you’re not the first”. The man was a professional through and through.

---

In the middle of making sure my reflexes were still functioning, his face winces, and his upper lip trembles, immediately breaking my illusion. He lets out a quick gasp “Ah.. I.. aahhh” barely audibly. I watch as his knuckles grasp the sides of the cushion in my chair desperately, going white in the process. For the first time in our entire session, the haze cast by this man’s being is broken entirely. I feel the dullness in my mind clear as I take note of the oddness from what had just transpired. His mouth goes wide and his face scrunches up into an emotion that I can’t quite place between pain and pleasure. Maybe both? In any case, before I can even investigate further, it relaxes immediately. Emotionless.

Then, his eyes twitch before going glassy. Doctor Ryan looked like he was about to throw up. Pleading eyes stare into my soul, but the rest of his face remains blank. I am shocked beyond shocked at this point to do anything beyond stare in disbelief while a shit-eating grin slowly paints his face. His eyes blink back to lucidity- now focused on me, and single tear pools on the corner of his left eye and drips down his cheek. He stops it with his thumb before it can drop further, before nonchalantly wrapping plump lips around it. In a slight suction noise, when he pulls the thumb out his mouth in what looks to be a deliberately seductive manner, staring intently at my face the entire time. What the fuck.

Immediately, he returns to examining me, making no mention of what had just occurred. This time though, his movements seem just a bit erratic, a bit unrefined. I also catch brief glimpses of that same cringing face every time he moves to the next step in his examination, like he was pulling long-forgotten memories from what should be a fairly standard procedure. He repeats the physical, this time going over my every part much more slowly. Any touch, any connection we had seemed to linger just a bit longer than needed. He almost seemed... Interested? Nervous? Whatever case, with every movement, and every step, his hands get a bit steadier, actions more confident. Whatever just happened to him seemed to be over. I am intrigued, if a bit scared. He was acting suspicious. Too many things seemed to line up for me to dismiss this as just normal checkup. In lustful wishes, I invoke whatever I can, hoping I’m correct. I try to sneak a peak at the outline of his admittedly large penis in his scrubs. Absolutely Flaccid. Odd. Disappointing, to say the least. Whatever this weird, hot doctor was doing, he wasn’t getting off on it.

When he gets to my lower body, he abruptly splits my knees open, spreading my legs wide. Another moan almost escapes me. Thankfully a veil of disposable fabric separates my doctor from my now semi-erect penis. Unthankfully, I can’t help but tent the gown full mast when his ice cold hands begin to trace and snake slowly around my inner thigh. I look at him in shock and he just beams back at me like the past few minutes had not just happened. “Hmmm… great legs…” My face goes crimson and I scream internally at my own inability to control my own body. “Okay, your -hNnggg-ah cha-chart, yes. Apologies for the outburst… your chart seemed to mention some concerns about your penis? Let’s take a closer look” He states, looking up at me with a half-smile.

“No- er, I think- ah, you got the wrong-” I can barely stammer out a response in the raw stimulation of Doctor Ryan grabbing and gently examining my cock and balls. Pleasure bloomed wherever his fingers glided over. This was a mental battle I could not win. Mind versus body. I was fighting myself, my own urges. He makes gentle cupping motions around my balls, back and forth. I look at him in bewilderment. There was no way this was just for a normal examination. He smiles pleasantly, “just checking for anything out of place… so far, so good”. Mystery solved, I guess. He slowly wraps thick fingers, encircling my cock in an embrace. Not solved. Not solved. I am rock hard. He gives a short chuckle. “Well, at the very least, your nerves appear to be working…. Blood flow looks good as well…Nothing out of the ordinary so far”. I am beet red at this point. Fuck me. I can’t even compose myself in front of this man.

Then, Doctor Ryan gives it a tug. FUCK.

“Holy shiiiiiit” I moan out. I turn my head away as my body quivers and gives in to a moment of divine pleasure. Betrayed by my own senses. A second, higher pitched moan escapes my now open throat, barely audible, while the a tiny bit of clear fluid spills onto the doctor’s unflinching hand. I can’t bear to look this guy in the eye. I need a new fucking doctor.

“You know, this is completely natural. Absolutely a normal human body response. Don’t worry about it” he says absentmindedly as he continues. “If anything, at least we know you can still produce, so it doesn’t look like there’s anything to worry about”. He mumbles happily. Outside my sightline, I swear I hear a licking, slurping noise. His hand, looked a bit wetter than before too.That being said, my brain has shut down from humiliation. At this point all I can manage is a blank nod.

“Well, good news- you’re perfectly hea- Oh! Actually, do you mind?” He begins to unbutton his coat and then proceeds set it on the table beside me. “You know it’s always a bit hot and stuffy in these rooms”. My eyes can’t help but visually eat at the feast before me. Bare chest and stray hairs poke out from his scrubs. The sleeves are taut around his massive biceps. Despite the objectively unflattering material, it can’t help but conform slightly to his muscular physique. It was pretty clear before, but it was definitely fact now. My doctor was hot as fuck. Something about his last question eats away at my my brain. It wasn’t hot at all. The room is cold, dry, sterile. Hell, this whole hospital is. It’s like he has me back in a trance though. Words smooth as silk, body like sculpture. He had a power over me, so I nod in compliance without even acknowledging how absurd the previous statement was.

“So, as I was saying... the good news is your vitals are all in line.” He laughs kindly, patting my stomach “Maybe eat a bit more protein every now and then”. The voice is warm and reassuring. My brain relaxes to the end in sight to this half dream-half nightmare. I start to get up to get changed before I realize the entire reason for the visit.

“Hey-er, wait! My Immunizations! I needed to get some immunizations done for my-“

“Oh?” He cuts me off, eyebrows raised. Intrigue paints his face.

Then he leans in close, head right up to my ear until the parts of chest peaking from the hospital gown touches the stray hairs poking out from his scrubs. Until we share warmth in that cold examination room. He breathes alongside me in rhythm as he exhales.

“You…don’t need any immunizations. I do… well, I did, anyway. It’s too late for him now...But we do have something planned, for you-we’re gonna try an experimental processss. A brand new… test…just for you...” He whispers. He pauses as he continues to breathe and I feel the hot, damp air emanating from his mouth coat my ear. “We need to test you for... stimulation.” Dear God. That last word he draws out in a far, far different tone than before. It neither clinical nor polite, and it hit like a brick. There was raw emotion in that last word. Raw lust. He cups the other side of my face pulling my left cheek to touch his. Like his chest, it’s quite warm. I’m flush with redness and confusion. I gulp nervously.

His tone returns in its warmth and politeness, contrasted by the intimate position we are in. “Hmmmmm salivating...mmmm... Quite a bit actually. You’re either haven’t eaten… or… you’re hungry for something.” I can’t manage out anything coherent amidst the sensory overload. He continues confidently, “C’mon... I’m your primary care physician? Let me take care of it. Let me take care of you...” He sticks his hand down his own pants, scratching to readjust. With our chests together, I am brought to our present moment. A moment in paradise. When he ebbs, I flow. Like a dance, my chest caves in with every exhale as his puffs out. He does in turn. We were partners. His scent pours out unconfined, unfiltered by distance, concentrated in our proximity. Like rainfall and crushed grass. I could live in it. With our cheeks pressed together, I feel his every movement. Every word spoken drawn in by my inhale. These would be mine to keep. This moment was ours and ours alone. He brings up the same hand, now a bit slimier to take a whiff before shoving that sweaty, funky smelling hand right to my face. I can’t control myself and start inhaling my hot doctor. I lick the man’s hand clean. Delicious.

I continue lapping it up in silence before he finally breaks it to speak. “Mhmmmmm... that’s the stuff... Maybe if we feed you enough of this hot doctor’s cum, you’d pick up on some of his residual intelligence and figure who’s really running this man.” My eyes light up, and the pieces finally all click together in my head. I chuckle.

“Good to see you too, Ben.”

———

“Leave it to humans to take something so beautifully sensual and twist it. He’s a bit too good at compartmentalizing. In many respects… It’s fucking hot. But, you know, when he’s in this work mode, he sees you as nothing more than sack of meat. We’re not getting anywhere with him without a little push”. Without warning, Ben pulls the doctor’s pants down and fiddles with his new dick- still flaccid. Jesus Christ it’s huge.

“Look, even this... appendage. Yes that’s an atypical response. I mean look at me, look at this new body we acquired. I’m swimming in this human’s hormones.” He wraps his hand around and begins pumping it. “But see here, it’s still all clinical in this head. I can only get inside him so far. We need something to end this human’s resistance. We need something extra to break him out of this trance. We need raw emotion.”

Just then, the door comes wide open. It’s Austin.

As he closes the door behind him, I see his face more clearly. It’s Austin’s body, but its pilot is undeniably Ben. Austin had a certain swagger to him that my little alien buddy just can’t quite replicate.

Ryan’s mouth opens wide and I watch as his true form exits from my doctor’s mouth and shoot strait into Austin’s welcoming nose. I watch as the doctor goes lucid. His eyes go wide and he stares at me in horror before attempting to escape. Before he can, he is pinned to the ground by the far larger Austin. “Cmon man, smell this fucking body. Feel something”

“If you can’t… we’ll do it for you. We’re going for a wild ride.. relax and enjoy it.” Austin’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and I watch as he gives a crazed grin, jaws open unnaturally wide. His tongue sticks out, his head is bright red, and pulsing silver courses through now-prominent veins. Damn. My Doctor looks at me with one last pleading glance, but all I can do is moan “I want you mine.”

Doctor Ryan lets out an involuntary scream when he notices the changes in Austin’s face, which only work to his disadvantage as a pulsating, semi-solid mass of silver falls into his open maw. Austin sticks their mouths together. Using his tongue, he maintains a steady passageway for Ben. Using his lips, Austin keeps the doctor’s pried open to forcibly receive the precious silver. Their heads bob back and forth as more and more of the slimy mass falls into doctor. I watch as a massive lumps outline themselves in his throat, then his chest, before disappearing into the depths of his body. I notice a little bit pool and spill out the corner of his mouth. When the process is over, Austin’s body falls limply to the side. I stare at the messy pile of silver goo still smeared over Ryan’s drooling mouth. Should I?

I lean over, giving my dream man a kiss. My eyes flutter at the prospect. Ugh, he’s perfect. I feel the every contour of the face of man who would soon be ours, before sucking up the excess silver an a bit of his drool in my mouth. No use putting this stuff to waste.

In a flash, I feel ecstasy. “Jesus fucking christ” I moan, as I feel a burst of energy from within. The parts of silver which were Ben settle into me, surging me with power and I feel his thoughts reverberate in my mind. In that split second, I also feel the vertigo of looking from two bodies at once. I feel the immense pleasure of controlling two bodies at once and the parts of silver which were Austin become immediately apparent. Goddamn what a fucking power trip. Austin was mine. A quick rush of stolen confidence from my previous tormentor floods my insides and I welcome my updated sense of self. Fuck yeah. Took a part of him for me. He’s never getting this back. I stare at his body and will it up. My dominion, now. While his head still hung unconscious, I move my fingers and tingle in delight as I watch his hands follow. The moment is fleeting though, and I feel the disappointment as my vision recedes back to my singular one.”Hope you liked that” I feel Ben state in my head. “Just a taste. This piece of us you’ve ingested... I think it’s best you keep it. I find this setup beneficial to us both. We can keep in constant contact this way. You might find some residual power left over Austin too, thought probably not in the way you think… at least… not yet.“

Before I can question him in my head, the doctor’s body shivers awake and then spasms before letting out a primal scream. Ryan’s looked... bigger? Almost swollen. His body occupied the same space they did before, but there was a larger presence to him. His muscles pump up, obviously riled into a frenzy. “Just a little attitude adjustment, and...Goddamn easy mode, Fuck!” He faces me. His eyes are rolled to the back of his head and silvery veins pulse all over his body. Seconds later, he settles and his eyes return to focus me. “Fuck yeah, you wanted this doctor, right? Bro, you know my bod’s way better. Fuck it though, I don’t care as I’m a part of the ride. Remember your fucking promise.” He states through gritted teeth. Unnatural coming out of the normally Angelic Doctor Ryan.

“Your Doc’s too nice though, right? You… Ben… you deserve better. I’ll make us better for you. Look how much fucking bigger, how much more of a fucking man we are with some Austin mixed in....” I am speechless, but he’s right. The doctor now exuded a dominating presence. In any other circumstance, I’d be frightened and compliant. In the presence of Ben, I felt safe.

“Thank Ben he brought us inside this man. Mmmmmm his brain is delicious… I feel so much smarter inside him. We’re gonna fuck him up. Make him better, like you did to me. Twist his head. Make him want your cum almost as much as I do. Make him want to spread more Ben around…. Mmmm speaking of, I feel him inside me. He’s squirming into us both out and goddamn it feels good.” Ryan’s body moans Austin’s moan. “I can’t wait for you to learn how to do this... to put yourself inside me-Please! Fuck! Learn it faster! That... part of me you stole… I feel good as part of you, right? You like it in you, right? Pure fucking jock. Take good care of it…more where that came from”. It was definitely my doctor, but between the behavior and facial expressions, undeniably Austin. Well, post-Ben Austin.

“I-Arrgh” I watch curiously as the doctor’s body shivers. “Ben’s... ready for you.” He winks as his eyes briefly roll to their sockets and roll back. Austin-er Ryan’s demeanor immediately changed ”Had to do a little arranging inside this doctor. We just need one final piece. Ryan’s body ready to receive its new masters. I need you to put as much cum inside this man as you can... I really like this one, his position is useful. But his mind... it’s so vast. He’s no Austin...It’s gonna take a lot more of our genetic material to tame it.”

Austin-er Ben does pushups on the floor. He clears a few hundred before wiping his sweat all over his scrubs. Of course, despite channeling Austin’s very essence, this body is not nearly as buff or as muscular as his so I watch as Ryan is forced to push up and down beyond his limits, tears streaming down his eyes, hands and legs shaking in protest, forced smiling all the while. Previously crisp scrub are now stained, damp in Ben’s body’s perspiration. The smell this weird, hybrid mix emanated was unique. Of course, it still had the cleanliness I’d expect from a doctor. Fresh cologne and nature- exactly what I’d expect from the healthy, professional man which had previous examined me. This man before me was not the same man as before. Because, interwoven was the musk, the testosterone, the pungent stink of our deranged puppet Austin. It was altogether divine.

“Look at this.” He states with a sneer as he does a bicep flex. His damp scrubs hug his muscle tightly, almost breaking at the seams. The bicep is throbbing. “I feel this body crying in pain and exhaustion. From his mind though... do you know how muscles are made? Tiny tears regrown stronger” A pulse of silver darts through his veins, immediately returning it to stillness. “What wonderful new information. We’re gonna use that. Fill into these layers with a bit of Ben, and a bit of you”. He starts laughing now “Doc Ryan here doesn’t call the shots…This isn’t his body anymore… It’s ours.”

With that, Ben lifts my gown and sticks his drenched head near my already-hard cock. Fuck he’s warm. Our sweat and scents mingle and I feel my inner thighs go moist in the perspiration in the air.

“Austin, to the forefront. Combined effort. We need him body and mind. Let us create a new Ryan,” he states. My doctor slowly wrap his thick, plump lips over my dick. Moment’s later, the man’s wet tongue slides forward. I shudder. A bit tickles in a spot just below the head and I squirm on the spot. Jesus fuck, oh- oh fuck, he’s good- he’s really good.

My shaking hands are sloppily held in place. I move them reflexively in the onslaught of pleasure. It’s like Ryan’s body was made for this. Absolute Heaven. I let out a loud moan as I continue to squirm in the confines of my position. Ben had commandeered some control of Austin’s unconscious body, and it stood there, just over me, holding my hands in place and body. Its eyes were rolled back, mouth drooling. Bits of spit dribbled to my forehead. I paid them no mind. Basically an extension of my own bodily fluids at this point anyway. Besides, whatever made Austin, Austin was mostly inside Ryan now, helping Ben add a wonderful new addition to our collection.

Ryan’s sensual motions, His body expertly bobbing, beckons mine. Erotic symphony. I can do nothing beyond quake in my seat. I hold for as long as I can but it’s too much. This was it. First, I moan. Then, I scream. FUCK. Goddamn bliss. Sweet Release. Pure Ecstasy. I am reduced to babbling internally as I release more and more of myself inside Ryan’s welcoming mouth. Using his powerful chest, he creates a slight suction, greedily taking as much of my cum inside as he can. The body begins to choke for air, but I feel Austin and Ben smile instead and continue inhaling my cum. Their eyes only relayed one word. More. There’s not much else I could have done anyway, because I continue to spew load after load inside the man. It’s the best I ever felt, the longest it’s ever been and the most I ever given. I sit in extended euphoria, paralyzed in bliss. Logic aside, ethics aside, this was my new order. Our new order. In my mind I strive to continue on, to bring more to this light. So many delicious fucking bodies in this town. So many new ‘me’s destined, yearning for my control- even if they didn’t know it yet. That last bit might have been some of Austin’s megalomania in me.

The phone rings at Ryan’s side and he picks it up. Someone patches in a call.

“Doctor are you alright? We heard some odd noises“. I watch Ben in alarm. He cracks his head to the side, cock still in his mouth, and veins coursing in silver fluid display prominently in his temples. He switches demeanor almost seamlessly back. In contrast, like strings cut, Austin’s body falls over me, unmoving. I didn’t mind. I inhale his jock essence as I listen in.

“Yewph- Iw- Ehem.. I’m quiw ahwigh, *gulp*… ahhh yeah.. Apologies, Nancy this appointment is taking just a bit longer than expected. I’ll be ready soon- just need a little more time with this one.” Every word again resounds warmly, calmly, politely in this man. When Ben channels Ryan, it’s like I’m hearing the same person who examined me earlier. He was ours. I glance his way and a bit of my cum is still on his lips as he continues his conversation. He happily draws it to his mouth with a finger and sucks it clean. My cock is drenched in the doctors sweat. Fucking hot. Ben found us a real catch. “Dr. Ben” ends the call and mentally, he’s back to our present situation, back to huffing in breathless pleasure, as he continues sucking the any residual mess in me clean. He gives me a wink as he finishes.

Ryan then stands over to Austin, and, in a reverse of the process from earlier vomits out the same silvery mass, now slick with streaks of white, back into its container. There was significantly less this time. From the still open mouth of Ryan, I watch the tiny man emerge, giving me a motion that indicated he was smiling. “I’m staying in this one a bit longer. Driving this particular specimen gives me a pleasure not wholly physical.” The mouth slowly closes and Ryan’s eyes show life again. He smiles. I look expectantly at the two of them. They begin making out. The sounds are sloppy and I can’t help but get a bit jealous. Taking note, they both stop abruptly before giving me a wink. The both speak at once while Ryan begins stripping stark naked.

“Can’t help it...You should come and stay in this room for a while. My next patient’s got quite a body we can utilize, based on this man’s memory. You still got some cum left in you? I can’t expand further without it” I nod happily. If Ben thinks he’s cute, we had to at least try. What am I saying? I can produce like a motherfucker, took part of my bully inside, made it mine. I may not look it yet, but I was alpha now.

“Austin, strip down, I need some new clothes, and yours are a better fit.” Austin’s face cringes and I watch as his normal personality returns. Normal was a stretch, because he was far more subservient now than he was before this all began. Ben then looks at me with a toothy smile as he walks over to my pile of neatly folded clothes and digs out my underwear. He nonchalantly strips stark naked and then proceeds to put on my underwear. “This is a tight- Hmph!” He struggles to get each thick leg through “-ah, your clothes...Mmm! So tiny”. This results in my hot, nearly naked doctor wearing my underwear tightly. It’s pulled to its seams as it’s forced to constrict and hold together the doctor’s massive package. I watch as his cock begins to get hard, only to be restricted by the fabric. He moans at the setup. “Ayyyyeeee fuck! Fuck yeah. It feels like you’re in here, squeezing this host’s cock and ass. I’m gonna make sure he wears this forever. I’m gonna make sure this imprints our scent into this man. Look at me. Look at this muscle. Ryan..mmmmm.... all the brains and brawn in the world couldn’t help you. Every time he gets hard on, I want him to be wearing this. I want his penis to scrape this, to be bound by it, forever a reminder of who the real Ryan is now.”

Ben’s new doctor personality switches back. He politely gestures to his pile of clothes, still freshly warm before looking at me. “If you’re gonna be my assistant, you’ll need to look the part,” he states with a kind smile. I eye the warm pile, almost steaming in the residual heat. Ryan’s body licks its lips. Ben again. “Wear it. This man is ours, forever. Take ownership of that. Of those clothes. There’s so much of your genetic material embedded inside this particular specimen, at this point these are your own as much as it is his.”

I rush over to put the scrubs on, to feel the residual heat in my doctor Ryan envelop me. I relish in it. Still warm and moist with his sweat. It was like I was wearing the man myself. Of course, it fits loosely over me, and I barely pass as an assistant. He leans over to me. “smell it” he whispers. “Smell yourself. I like you better this way”. He’s right. I smell so fucking alpha in this getup. Ben then begins putting on Austin’s clothes, which are a much better fit.

In contrast, Austin is forced to wear the remainder my clothes, which he creepily sniffs first and ends up with it fitting way too tight and revealing on him. I gesture to offer the scrubs I just put on instead, but he immediately declines in a huff, “No... I’m fucking better this way. More... complete” He moans “This was the way I was meant to be... yours... wearing this makes me feel like you’re here inside me, wearing your own clothes. I belong like this...This is your body, it misses you, and he doesn’t feel whole until you’re back home.” He pats himself. “I can’t wait for you to become this. And I’m not fucking taking no for an answer either. One day, I’m putting you where you belong- inside me so we can never be separated again. Moving around feels empty when you’re not in here doing it for me”. What the fuck did Ben do? The guy, my previous bully was horny just being near me. It felt amazing.

I silently thank Ben. Whatever Austin was rambling on about turned me the fuck on. I smiled. That piece of Austin I ingested earlier- I think his shitty vocab’s been rubbing off on me. Regardless, Austin was right- wearing him, controlling him from the inside was where I belonged. I deserved it. Deserved him. “Wait for us at home- we won’t be long” Ben instructs Austin through Ryan in a fatherly tone. Austin complies, leaving the room, staring longingly at me until he no longer could.

Ben puts on his coat. “Well then, that’s settled. I hope your cock is ready, human, we have a full schedule of bodies to possess.“

-End of “Ben Pt. 2″-

A smarter version of me would have split this into two parts. Also, preemptive apologies to anyone in a medical profession.

#Male possession #Alien possession #Male control #male puppet #male body control

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wwilloww · 4 years ago

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sh. | ot7 | chapter five

PAIRING ot7 x reader

RATING Explicit.

GENRE smut. fluff. angst. nonidol au. wildnerness au. roommates au. friends to lovers.

SUMMARY Six months of quarantine have kept you apart. Somehow the distance sparks something new in each of you: questions, unfinished conversations, threads once chased now left cold. So when your roommate invites you to come with him to a mysterious house in the mountains with your friends, how could you even think of saying no?

WC 8k

WARNINGS AND TAGS protected sex. friends with benefits relationship. dirty talk. power play dynamics. angst. semi-public nudity. mentions of open relationship. sexting. reckoning with feelings. talk of alcohol use.

AN: One million bazillion thanks to the best beta and geologist out there, @hesperantha. Everyday I think to myself, how the fuck would this series exist without this magical lady? And every day I am thankful for her beautiful existence.

Also, if you haven’t seen /the trailer, you might wanna check it out. Just because I had a lot of fun making it and it was super fun to visualize the characters and their tiny little world.

Going forward, you can read with they/them pronouns by navigating to the series m.list and reading from there.

That said, LETS JUMP IN!

← || series m.list || →

©️ wwilloww do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

chapter five

January 2020

What is left when you’re not sure where to turn?

You know there’s Yoongi. Dependable, familiar, predictable Yoongi. Predictable in the sense that you know, unabashedly, that no matter what, you can always count on him to draw a short term — but important — curtain over whatever notion, anxiety, or complication that happens to be singing in your mind that day. Erase it, temporarily, with those long fingers, gliding over your skin in expert patterns, drawing you and your pleasure exactly where he wants it to be.

And predictable in the sense that you know you will be perfectly and endlessly satisfied at the end of the night, no matter what.

See, Yoongi doesn’t mess around. He doesn’t tease you. Doesn’t draw you out and dangle you over your own pleasure. He gives it to you. Over and over and over and over again. Extends his palm and pulls as many orgasms from you as you can physically muster and then lets you collapse in his arms. Dependable, see? Dependable, always.

Once you’re settled in his lap, Yoongi lets you grind on him for a bit as he undresses you expertly, long fingers slipping under the fabric of your clothes before tugging them off gracefully and tossing them across the room. This, this he did love to do. Loved to scatter your clothes around and then watch you from the bed as you tried to piece some semblance of an outfit back together after he fucked you senseless.

“Don’t throw my bra behind the furniture again,” you murmur as you kiss down his neck. “I know you thought it was a great tactic to get me to rearrange your room the last time — but I’m not moving a hundred pound dresser to get my very expensive bra back again.”

He chuckles. Murmurs, “As you wish.” And then throws your bra someplace you can’t see.

Now that you’re topless, he lets his long fingers skate up the skin of your back, tracing the flesh of your hips and with such delicacy it almost tickles. That is, delicate until his hand weaves itself up your neck. His grip tightens at the root of your hair, tugging your head back in a swift motion and exposing your neck to him.

“How do you want me to fuck you tonight?” His voice is deep and it raises goosebumps on your skin. He lets his teeth trace a line up the sensitive skin of your neck until he reaches your ear and bites down hard.

“Fuck,” you breathe as a shiver runs through your body. Yoongi always took particular care to curate a library of knowledge about your ticks, turn ons, and vices. And then he played them out for you in an expertly coordinated hand.

“Yes, that’s in the cards. But tell me specifically how you want it.”

Behind him, the large bedroom is equipped with enough musical equipment to run a fully functioning studio. Instruments hang on the walls and a large black bed rests in the center of the room. The dark tones of the wood and sheets make the otherwise sparse room feel warm and dark. Compared to the shabby little apartment that you share with Namjoon, this is luxury. Your gaze rests on the large wall of glass that looks out over the city.

“The window,” you say.

He grins.

The glass is cold against your bare skin when he presses you to it. The difference in temperature between the fired heat of your skin and the iced window slices right through you, makes you gasp as his hands run over your body, taking you in as you are: bare and ready for him.

You watch as he strips off his clothes, gracefully and swiftly. First the shirt, then his pants. It’s no surprise to you that he’s not wearing any undergarments at all. Delight lights in his eye when he notices how greedily you watch him.

“Do you want me to—�� He begins to lean down, but you stop him and pull him up.

“Just fuck me.”

He turns you around in one movement, your hands flying up to stop the impact, your chest — and your nipples — pressing to the glass. The sensation overwhelms you as he slides two fingers between your folds, collecting the slickness that has gathered there.

“You’re already so wet for me.”

A smile spreads across your face as you hear the condom packet rip and he slots his cock against your cunt, coating himself in your arousal.

“Don’t tease me,” you say, a hint of a whine slipping into your voice.

“Don’t worry. I have no patience for that tonight.” And he pushes in. “How’s that?” he says, the lilting tease in his tone cutting sharp against your ear as his dick sinks into you, inch by delightful inch.

It feels like you have to catch your breath to speak. “Is it always this good?”

“Baby, if it isn’t, you should ask for a refund.” He punctuates the last word of his sentence with a harsh thrust that rams your chest up against the glass.

“Fuck—” you hiss.

Memory whitens like it’s been covered in a blanket of snow as he begins a punishing pace, hips rutting up into you before drawing almost all the way back, tip barely inside of you before thrusting back into you, all the way to the hilt. Sensation overtakes thought. The slicing coldness of the glass against your nipples paints a stark contrast to the softness of lips pressed to yours, softness of a hand cupping your cheek—

You should be thinking of anything but that.

And it’s easy to do, in this moment. To focus on Yoongi, his commanding presence, the way he plays your body like one of the carefully polished instruments that hangs on his wall.

You cry out when he hits a particularly soft spot within you, and he pauses his movements, drinking in the sound of you.

“God, you sound so fucking good.”

He pulls out of you, turns you around, and pushes your back against the glass.

“Hop up,” he says, and you frown in confusion before realizing what he’s referring to. You wrap your arms around his neck and with a jump, wrap your legs around his waist.

“Fuck—” With a grunt of effort, he holds you up while slotting himself against your folds and pushing inside again.

The most you can do in this position is tilt your pelvis and grind down on him — while holding onto dear life — and you do, rotating it against his waist, drawing the most delicious sounds from his lips. Your hips begin to move in tandem, each pushing closer to the pleasure that you both so desperately desire.

This is better. This is worse.

See, the two of you have fallen into patterns in your hookups. Rules, even, although no one but you thought of them as such. But the habit — and therefore the lines — were clear to you:

You didn’t kiss. You didn’t confess your love. Hookups only, and breakfast together the morning after. Usually he takes you from behind, because, as he once commented to you, “the ass cheeks are the eyes of the heart.” Which to you, made no sense at all, but you still obliged him. Plus, at the end of the day it was all a little more impersonal that way, anyways. Easier to separate from the rest of your relationship.

But looking into his face, pressed so close — there’s something there. A warmth. An understanding. Too much.

Your head falls to his shoulder and his grip tightens on your thighs as he fucks up into you. Several heavy breaths before you bite gently at the sensitive skin of his neck and he hisses.

“You’re too sensitive,” you chide, although the teasing lilt of your tone is broken up by him fucking into your body — and you both know you love the way he lets you know he likes things done.

“And you’re too shy,” he cuts back. “Why don’t you look at me when I fuck you?” It’s posed as a question but you know it’s a command.

Slowly, you draw your head back and look at him. His eyes are deep and dark, his hair tousled and face lined with pleasure.

“That’s a good little pet,” he whispers. It falls too softly.

It makes you want to kiss him. All you want to do is —

You press your lips to his. Just a peck — the smallest, lightest of pecks.

But the plush of his lips, the way they part so slightly when your lips meet... it leaves you wanting more. So you kiss him again, pressing yourself to him, chasing the feeling of his softness.

He responds, opening his mouth to yours, his tongue darting out to meet yours. His pace doesn’t falter as he continues to fuck up into you. His lips move against yours, fierce, needy, demanding. And it’s then that your stomach drops. It’s as if the winter chill that lays just beyond the door at your back slices through your veins.

You pull back.

“No,” he says, and pulls you back to him. “Stop running.” He brings your face close enough to yours but doesn’t kiss you, just waits.

And you meet him in the middle, kissing him again, afraid of losing the warmth you sparked between you. He groans against you as your hips swivel around his cock, and bites down on your lip.

“Fuck,” you hiss.

With one arm wrapped around his shoulders, you let your other hand press against the nape of his neck, nails digging in just the way you know he likes it. You both have always been in rhythm, in tune with one another, but now with him kissing you — something new sparks between you. Something new, something terrifyingly warm.

When you pull back he smiles.

“Shit,” you whisper, your eyes widening. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Yoongi says, an edge in his voice, his hips still circling against yours as he presses your back to the window. “You have nothing to apologize for.

“I shouldn’t have—”

“Shh... stop. It’s okay. It was good.” He punctuates his meaning with a thrust, a small groan slipping from his throat. You want to swallow the sound of his pleasure whole, but still. You let the guilt in your chest rise to your throat.

“No, no, it’s not,” you say, though the coil that’s winding tighter and tighter in your belly makes it difficult to speak. You take a shuddering breath in as he hits your g-spot, your eyes fluttering closed.

“Yes. It is,” he grunts, and you can tell he’s close too. “You fuck better when you kiss. You feel it. You get into it.” Your brow purses at his words. “Now be good for me, forget it, and cum on this cock.”

You nod.

“Tell me what you’re going to do.”

“I’ll forget it, be good for you, and cum on your cock.”

“Good,” he smiles.

Each thrust brings you a step closer. He kisses you, again waiting for you to meet his lips, and together you move like dancing partners closer and closer to the edge.

You cum, clenching around his cock and crying his name into his mouth.

The two of you breathe heavily, foreheads resting together for a moment that stretches long enough for you to call it a distance.

“Fuck—” Yoongi says, pulling out of you and smiling gently as he lets you down. “I’ve never heard you come like that before.”

Heat rises to your cheeks.

“Hold on, let me get you a towel or something,” Yoongi says, pressing his thumb to your forehead and wiping away a bead of sweat. You watch as he shuffles about his room, looking for anything to give you. “One second, I think there’s clean ones in the dryer.”

He wanders out of the room wearing absolutely nothing at all.

When you turn back to the outside world, the glass is fogged and the world feels a million miles away. The tension that rises up in your chest feels like a wrought iron ball and you need out, out, now.

There’s a fuzzy blanket on the dresser next to you and you snatch it, wrap yourself up tightly and push open the glass door to the tiny balcony. With a held breath, you step out. The cold concrete sends a chill through your body as you step out. Blue washes through you, shocking the pleasure-numbed nerves in your body back to life.

When you suck in a deep breath of snow-cold air, it feels as if clarity settles into you. You take a second, but shuddering, breath as you realize with a lucid sharp pain the reality of your situation.

Yoongi didn’t erase tonight from your mind. Sex didn’t remove Hobi’s kiss from your lips. An orgasm didn’t ease the unnamable want in your chest. If anything, it all just burns a little brighter.

This thing with Yoongi — it’s not supposed to be a distraction for you, or a means to make you feel something else. It’s supposed to be its own thing, a compartmentalized friends with benefits situation that has always been clear and defined between the two of you. But as soon as you showed up on his door with an ulterior motive other than sex, it became something else. As soon as you kissed him, you made it something else.

Fuck.

Around you, fat flurries drift down from the dark sky. They melt as they land on your bare skin. There’s no escaping this thing inside you. But the intensity of the cold seems like it keeps you here, grounded, in Yoongi’s home and facing actuality. As if any form of warmth would leave you wandering into the sickly sweet honeytrap of the what if’s that already threaten on the edge of your mind.

“Come to bed,” Yoongi calls from inside. When you don’t, he comes out onto the tiny balcony and wraps himself around you from behind, his head notching on your shoulder. “Christ, you’re freezing.”

“It feels good,” you say, nuzzing your body back against his.

“I know I didn’t work you up that much that you need to stand in the snow to cool down. Come to bed.”

Still wrapped around you, he waddles you inside, earning a giggle from you as you tumble into bed and he slams the door closed with a bit of a shiver.

“Here,” he says softly, wrapping you in a blanket before settling beside you.

He’s close. Wildly close. His breath brushes softly against your face as you look at each other. You take in the flushed pink of his face, the way his hair is tousled into a gorgeous mess from the effort of your intimacy.

You could kiss him again, you think and a shock runs through your body at the thought. Christ, his cock’s been inside you a million times and yet you balk at the thought of kissing him, of pulling him right where you want him, where he fits so perfectly, where he feels so warm —

“What are you thinking?” Yoongi says softly.

“What are you thinking?” you cut back, just a little too quickly.

Yoongi chuckles. “I’m thinking that you keep yourself so tightly together.”

You smile tightly. “I don’t know what that means.”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

You bite down on your lip.

“You’re thinking so loud I can almost hear it,” Yoongi says. “Just tell me. You know there’s nothing you could say that would upset me.” When you don’t say anything, he continues. “For god’s sake, I’ve seen your asshole. It doesn’t get much more personal than that.”

“Fine,” you say.

“Fine,” he grins.

“Maybe we should…” You trail off and bite the inside of your cheek.

Yoongi rolls onto his side, propping his head up with one hand.

“Maybe we should…?” He prompts. “Join a sex dungeon?”

You laugh, the thought of going to one with Yoongi is one that sends a thrill through you. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, but that’s not what I was going to say.”

“What were you going to say?”

You take a deep breath. “That maybe we should… stop. This.”

He doesn’t ask what you mean. He knows. “That, my dear, sounds like quite the antithesis to going to a sex dungeon with me.”

You laugh. “I can’t believe you’re making jokes when I am friends with benefits breaking up with you.”

“What? Were you expecting me to be angry?”

“I mean I expected a little bit of a fight. Or at least… I don’t know. Questions.”

“Do you want questions?”

You look at him.

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. Well. Why are you ending things.”

You flop onto your back. Look at the ceiling. The way the lights of the city reflect paley onto the white surface. They look like ghosts.

“I don’t really know.”

He pulls you to him, rolling you onto your side and tangling your hands together. “Okay.”

And then the two of you just lie there, staring at the ceiling in silence, the weight of your decision, of this ending, settling over you with a concrete taste. There’s something uncomfortable in this kind of silence. But it’s not him, it’s not an awkwardness, or the building of tension or resentment. None of that lies between you. It’s the fact that within the silence the answers rise up in you, and you find the words spilling from your mouth.

“I don’t want it to be complicated, Yoongi.”

He waits a moment before responding. “Is it complicated?”

“Well.” You sigh. “No. Not with us. Us is easy. I feel like I can tell you what I need or what I want and I trust you to be able to either give me that or set a boundary.”

Yoongi hums. “I feel the same. So then if it’s not us...?”

“I made a mistake tonight. Crossed a line I shouldn’t have crossed.”

His brow furrows. “Not with me you didn’t. I don’t underst—”

“Not you. It’s me. It’s — it’s always me. I don’t want things to spin out of control. And I feel like they’re about to.”

Yoongi is silent for a long moment.

“I don’t want you to feel that way.” He pulls you closer to him, his grip tightening on your hip. “Really.” You stare down at your intertwined hands. “Look at me.” He waits until you do, summoning an inner strength you didn’t know you needed to look at your friend. “There’s a part of me that wonders how much of this is you punishing yourself for something that you don’t have any reason to be punishing yourself for.”

You can’t help the nervous laugh that shoots from your chest.

“What!? Are you laughing at me!?”

“No, no,” you shake your head. “Just… I don’t know what it is, but if anyone were to look right through me and see everything that’s going on, it’s you.”

He smiles softly.

“Do you want to stay tonight?”

Do you want your friend to wrap himself around you? Pull you in tight to his warm chest? Remind you of the summer that lies on the other side of this long, long winter?

“No,” you say slowly. “I think I need some space. To… process.”

He nods. “Well, as my newest friends with benefits ex, I agree, you should probably leave. You know. So it doesn’t get awkward.” He grins.

“Yeesh, you’re so quick to kick me out.”

“I know. I guess I just need some space. You know. To process, too. Grieve.” He paints a fake frown on his face and does a dramatic rendition of a very gross sniffle.

You giggle.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Together you get out of bed, Yoongi — for once — rifling through his room in search of your clothes. With every piece of clothing you put on, you feel like you take another step backwards. Away from Yoongi, away from the vulnerability in you that feels like it tears open everytime he looks at you. His comfort. Each new piece of fabric is another wall resurrected. But when you go to hook your bra behind your back, he steps behind you, taking the straps from your hands and gently hooking the clips together.

“Here.”

When he’s done, his fingers linger on your skin just a moment too long.

“Thanks,” you say softly, turning back to him.

His eyes are still blown wide, his hair perfectly disastrous. There’s something so deadly soft about him. He looks just as he did when you marched into his bedroom earlier in the night. And yet, on the other side of this night, you feel like a totally different person. As if the stranger inside of you has finally stepped forward and introduced herself.

You turn away hastily, heading to the living room. He follows and pulls your jacket from the couch and helps you into it.

Shoes on, jacket on, you’re all ready to walk out the door. And still you linger. Yoongi glances at his watch.

“Well, I’d say six hours is a proper mourning period. Breakfast tomorrow?”

“How about brunch? I’m not getting up at 9am for eggs.”

“Oh and I’m the one who needs space huh?” He smiles softly. “11am. You’ll get up at 11am and I’ll buy you a breakup brunch.”

“Yeah,” you smile up at him. Even as you taste the edge of fear — of anxiety — on your tongue, there is still a kind of undeniable warmth that blossoms in your chest every single time you look at him.

You broaden your smile. Push it down.

There’s one last thing.

“And—”

But he already knows what you’re asking. He steps forward, taking your head between his hands and pressing a kiss to your forehead. The shock that runs through you is quick and cold.

“I know,” he says. “This’ll still be our little secret.”

When he steps back, there’s something soft in his gaze — too soft, you can’t help but think. Tenderness, surrounded by acceptance and strength. All the things that make Yoongi, well, Yoongi. And yet it feels like too much to handle. Too much to be looked at, to be seen, to be understood when you can barely wrap your mind around what’s going on.

“Sleep well, buttercup.”

Different taxi, different driver, different route.

“Home,” you tell the woman at the wheel when you give her your address, her over-bleached and curly hair forming a kind of halo around her in the seat.

“You got it,” she says smacking her gum and throwing you a wayward smile.

As the car pulls away from the curb and picks up speed, you feel a kind of numbness wash over you.

It was the right decision to end things with Yoongi, you remind yourself, even as you feel a kind of twinge in your chest. You haven’t lost a friend. In fact, you’ve probably preserved your friendship. Saved it from wandering into the brambly bushes of complication and ultimate destruction. Even if it means the loss of killer sex.

You phone dings, and you instinctively brush a hand over your body to make sure you left with all the clothes you arrived in.

When you look at your phone, it’s not who you imagine. It’s not what you imagine.

tae: I forgot how loud you are when you orgasm.

You choke, hand snapping up quickly to cover your mouth.

“You alright, hun?” the driver asks.

“Yeah, yeah, just fine,” you say, but your voice is strained. You immediately type out your response.

you: fuck. i’m so sorry. you: it won’t happen again.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, embarrassment and confusion tightening around your throat. How much more can you really take tonight? Hobi, then Yoongi — now this? You tap your foot as you wait for the response, which takes just a minute to pop up on your phone.

tae: oh… well that’s too bad. I actually didn’t mind it all that much.

Oh.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re typing out your response — and turning down the brightness as if it will hide the loudness of your message from the world.

you: is that right?

tae: i said it didn’t i? ive always been a man of my word. brings me back to the old days, in a way.

you: oh?

tae: you know…

you: do i?

tae: you do.

you: it’s been a while. why don’t you remind me?

tae: you’re playing coy tonight. two very loud orgasms and you’re still not done playing?

you: i’d send that shrugging emoji but i can’t find it you: what can i say? I can be needy

tae: should i remind you tae: when we used to park behind the grocery store tae: there was never anyone around but you’d still get so shy and embarrassed tae: and try to cum without a sound tae: but i didn’t hear a single note of shame or restraint tonight tae: shamelessness looks good on you tae: **sounds good on you

you: you were always quite shameless yourself

tae: it gets me far in life

You blink down at your phone, not really sure what to say. Taehyung’s hearty banter is something you’re used to. Even after all these years, your quick back and forth was still twinged with the smallest teasing edge of sexual interest. But you had always kept it within strict boundaries, never returning to your previous relationship, never suggesting—

tae: but my question is how far will it get me with you?

Your breath freezes in your throat. Never suggesting that you return to anything of the past.

tae: jk tae: unless…?

Taehyung’s sexually laced messages have your head spinning round and round on its pedestal. It’s not as if you had never thought about it, never considered it. But there was a line there, was there not? A line you shouldn’t cross, shouldn’t even think of crossing, no matter how you wanted to. With a deep breath, you respond.

you: i don’t know if we should be having this conversation right now?

tae: why? because you’re my ex? or because of Jin?

Before you can even manage to type out the long list of reasons why you shouldn’t be dipping your toes into the perilous waters of sexting your very happily taken ex, the screen is lighting up again.

tae: if it’s the latter, don’t worry. he’s here too. tae: he says to tell u you’re hot tae: which is news to me tae: not that you’re not hot, but that he thinks that tae: and he says hes “sorry he missed the show earlier”

you: tbh that was NOT the response i was expecting to get.

tae: we’re very open about these things. he’s quite… encouraging actually

As if this is the opening, you walk through it.

you: in what way?

tae: he likes visibility in a specific way. he likes to watch. likes to be watched and… the attention, especially when its directed at me, especially when he knows that at the end of the day i’m crawling back into his bed

Your heart races in your chest.

tae: sorry, maybe that’s tmi.

you: don’t apologize. i don’t mind tmi

tae: then i won’t apologize.

you: good.

tae: good 😂 tae: you know, i liked it.

you: sorry, liked what?

tae: hearing it tae: hearing you cum

you: did you?

tae: more than i expected

you: more than you should?

tae: that’s not what i said

you: well, like i mentioned, it won’t happen again

tae: why not? You finally get me to admit i didn’t mind it and now you’re telling me i won’t get more? :(

You chew on your bottom lip before responding.

you: it’s complicated.

tae: an orgasm is never complicated.

you: …

tae: but you know what is complicated? tae: feelings. tae: you’re having feelings. tae: oh my god you’re in love with yoongi

you: i am nOT in love with yoongi you: surprisingly it has very little to do with yoongi

Even as you send the text, you know that’s not entirely true.

tae: okay, then what’s going on??? pls don’t play cryptic with me, it’s too late for that shit

you: i don’t even know what’s going on.

tae: oh. tae: so we’re talking big boy emotions

you: i don’t have *emotions*

tae: you’re a fucking liar

you: hey you: language

tae: alright then let me rephrase it tae: what are you so afraid of will happen if you let yourself feel?

Your heart catches in your throat. Oh.

“We’re here,” the taxi driver says, and your head snaps up from the light of your phone to see your apartment complex towering high and familiar above you.

“Oh!” You blink yourself from your reverie and hand the woman the cash for the ride. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks,” she says, twisting around to look at you as you skootch across the backseat. “Hey—” You pause, looking at her. The orange glow of the streetlights rings like a halo around her head. “You take care of yourself, alright?”

“Alright,” you smile and nod.

A haze settles around your body as you climb out of the taxi. The hard edge of soberness and the sharpness of the winter air mixes and shocks life back into you as his question rings around your head. What are you so afraid of will happen if you let yourself feel?

Your breath feels strained as you climb the echoing stairs to your home. The sound of the key fitting into the lock rings with a harsh click, but it brings you back into your body, to the little marks where Yoongi’s hands dug into you, to the confusion that rattles around your mind, and finally, and most devastatingly, the warmth that has sunk deep and inextricably into your heart.

The apartment is dark when you enter.

“Namjoon?” you call out.

No one answers. You don’t bother to flick on the lights as you feel your way blindly through the darkness, hand brushing against the soft fabric of your sofa, the bumpy texture of the wall, and finally the cold knob of your door. Instead of pushing the door open though, you lean against it, taking what feels like the first full breath of the night.

You look at the screen of your phone, Tae’s question, his voice, spiraling around your head. With a shaky breath you respond, fingers flying across the blue light of the screen.

you: something feels off. I don’t… i don’t want to mess anything up. I feel like the only way to keep things in order is to keep myself out of it all.

tae: can i call you?

you: yeah. Joon’s not home.

You finally press into your room. All that silver light from the city reflects off of the white flakes that flutter softly down from the sky. It spills onto your bed like a pool of molten silver, waiting, chilled and cold for you. You flop down onto it, your breath coming out in a long huff.

When your phone rings, there’s a second of hesitation before you hit the answer button.

“Hello?” your voice is shakier than you expected.

“One second.”

You hear the rustling sound of Tae getting out of bed and the door shutting.

“If I can hear you orgasming, Yoongi sure as hell can hear a phone call,” Tae whispers, a slight chuckle to his voice. “Unless you’re just always unreasonably loud.” You can imagine the sly smile that plays across his lips right now. Another door opened and shut and he sighs. “There. Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I…”

You trail off. You don’t know what to say. Don’t know what there is to say.

He says your name softly into the phone, the syllables forming such a familiar shape on his tongue. “Are you okay?”

“I...I don’t think so. I don’t feel great.”

“You’re home? Safe?”

“Yeah. I’m home.” You look around your room. Art on the walls, your little desk the messiest place in the room, stacked high with papers and photos and plants.

“Good.” Taehyung takes a long breath. “So. Tell me what’s going on.”

You want to. But your voice freezes in your throat and you can feel the way your silence falls around him.

After breaking up at nineteen, you and Taehyung had always remained friends. The truth was that even though you loved each other, you were so caught up in the physicality of it all that the rest of your relationship — and your relationships outside of that — began to deteriorate. No more sex, you both had decided. And at the time, that meant no more romance. There weren’t lingering feelings of resentment, but you did know — because you both talked about it — that you were both plagued with the lingering question of what if. What if…. But the answer was simple. You both needed more than what the other could offer.

Best friend turned lover turned best friend. If the lingering sexual tension was the only consequence of that, you could handle that. And if you were honest with yourself, you enjoyed it, in a safe, flattering kind of way.

But the reality was that the consequence of your relationship wasn’t limited to just a couple of sex dreams here and there or comments about your former sex life thrown about as jokes. The truth was that there was a permafrost of cautiousness that sat like a layer of ice beneath all of your interactions; one that only thawed away after midnight or a second drink.

Right now, the clock on the wall reads: 3:12am.

“You don’t have to tell me—”

“No — I want to.” You shake your head. “I should… I should talk to someone about this.” You take a deep breath as the sharp images of tonight’s events spiral around your mind. When you speak, it comes out a whisper. “I kissed Hobi tonight.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“Or he kissed me. I don’t really — don’t really understand what happened, we were just standing there and had both had some drinks and suddenly it was happening and I should have kept everything within the normal boundaries, I shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have overstepped our friendship, but we kissed and I…” Your voice trails off.

“And you liked it,” Taehyung finishes for you.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I did.”

“And it scared you.”

“Yeah.”

“And then you both ran away from it.”

“Yeah.”

“And your way of running away from it was to go fuck Yoongi again, huh.”

“Goddamnit, Tae,” you huff, annoyed by how right he is.

Taehyung chuckles. “Babe, I’ve known you way too long for me to not pick up on these kinds of things. These kinds of patterns.”

“Patterns?”

Taehyung sighs through the phone. “I love you, dude, but… yeah. Yeah. It’s a pattern.”

As you let his words sink into you, you realize. It is a pattern.

“Can I be honest with you?” he asks. “Do you really want to know what’s going on here?”

You laugh softly, even as fear nibbles at your heart. There’s a part of you that wants to turn into blindness. That wants to shield your heart from the reality of the situation. From the reality of yourself.

But there’s also something about facing into the truth — clear and cold like the night waiting just beyond your window. You want the shock of truth through your body, glaring and sharpened like ice. Because at the end of the day, you’ve had enough of this numbed ignorance.

“Yeah. Go for it.”

“This might be out of the blue. And you might not want to hear it. I could be totally off—”

“Tae, it’s okay. I want to hear it.”

He takes a deep breath. “But maybe… just maybe, it’s time to think about the way you push people away.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you whisper, although the reality of what he’s saying is already dawning on you, even if it’s at a glacial pace.

“How you let people in just long enough, just far enough, to let them see something authentic of you. But you don’t really let them take any real stake in your life.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“And that’s okay!” He adds quickly. “At least, it has been okay. We do what we need to do to keep ourselves safe, but… I think you’re past that all now.” You take a shuddering breath and he pauses. “That place in your life where you need to keep the walls and the rules so strict for fear of falling. You’re not there anymore, babe. Maybe it’s time to start looking at the wall that you’ve built and considering letting yourself tear it apart.” And then, so softly you think his voice might be made of something as delicate as a flower petal: “You know, maybe it’s time to think about how you want to start letting love in again. Because you deserve it.”

It’s not until you brush your hand against your cheeks that you realize they’re wet. You look down at your fingertips, glistening with fallen tears, shining silver in the snowlight.

“Fuck, Tae.”

Taehyung lets loose a light, but pained, chuckle.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You sniffle. “Goddamn it.”

Silence settles between the two of you. Tears slip silently down your face as you hold the phone to your ear. You can hear him breathing softly on the other end, but Taehyung doesn’t say anything. It’s as if he knows you need a minute to process.

His words slide right under your skin. Directed straight at the thing that has felt so heavy in your chest all night now, it’s as if the whole thing has been broken open within you. Suddenly, you can see it all.

The past years, this game of cat and mouse with your own vulnerability. This façade of carefully curated openness and faux vulnerability. All of the things that you kept as reminders of your freeness, your unlocked heart — the hookups, the fast and furious romances that ended in nothing but silence, the friendships you kept so carefully defined — were actually all just markers of the opposite:

A deep and abiding fear that if you let someone love you, a fear that if you let them close enough to really, truly see you, they might see something they won’t like.

Better to keep things clearly organized. Clearly marked and known and understood. That way you’d know exactly when things were spinning out of control and when someone was just about to get too close.

“You know, there are so many ways to love,” Taehyung says. “It doesn’t just have to be in that one way of fucking and falling in love and then a big white marriage, tada! the end. And, uh, it’s okay to want love. It’s really, really okay, actually. In whatever weird way love shows up for you, even if it’s not the traditional way. It’s even more okay to let yourself have that love, even if you don’t know what it is — don’t know what to call it.”

When your breath comes out shaky and ridden with tears, you can hear a soft oh echo through the phone.

“Hey,” Taehyung says with all the love in the world laced so delicately through his voice. “It’s okay. It might not feel like that right now. But opening up again — if, you know, if that’s what you want — that’s something you can do. It can be done.”

“I-I do, Tae. I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want to keep fighting this.”

It’s as if you can hear his smile through the receiver.

“That makes me really happy to hear,” he says.

“Where do I even begin?” It comes out a whisper, your voice cracked from the tears that have begun to slow. You’re half afraid to even hear the answer. Half afraid to walk down the path riddled with your greatest fear.

“I think you begin by going to sleep. And in the morning I’ll call you. And I’ll keep calling you. And we’ll work through this together. You know, this isn’t something that you have to do alone.”

You’re silent.

“You’re in bed?” crackles through the phone.

“Yeah?”

“Go put on some pjs and go to sleep. You don’t have to do this all in one night.”

You nod, wiping the rest of the tears from your face and sniffling. “Yeah.”

“Alright. I love you to the moon and back, no matter what. You know that. Right?”

You close your eyes. For a second you imagine accepting that it’s true. It fills your chest with a new kind of warmth. One you want to sink into.

“Yes,” you say. “I love you too, Tae.”

“Get some rest then. Goodnight.”

“G’night.”

The dial tone clicks and the room falls into complete silence. Only the sound of your breath breaks through, too loud and uncomfortable amidst the darkness. But still, you climb out of bed, dump some water on a towel and wipe at your face, and change into the largest t-shirt you can find in your drawer.

Tonight, you dream the first dream of many in a line that will haunt you — and spark you back to life. It’s Yoongi, his body pushing you up against the ice cold glass, his hands in your hair, his lips whispering, over and over and over again: Is it complicated?

In the morning, you lay awake, just feeling the way your breath falls heavily in your chest. You text Yoongi to tell him you can’t meet up. You look outside.

The world is covered in a blanket of snow. Unrecognizable. Beautiful. Washed clean.

Something hopeful flutters in your chest.

When you look down, your hands are clutching the collar of your sleep shirt. With a deep breath, you wrap your arms around your torso in a hug.

“I don’t really know how to do anything else other than this,” you admit to Tae one day over the phone, flourishing a hand you know he can’t see to emphasize the point you know he already understands.

“Well. I don’t know how much of it is really choosing to be different. Instead, maybe you ought to try looking at it like an undoing. Whenever you match up against that impulse to run, think about sitting with it. Feeling it. And then choosing to move in another direction. Yeah,” he says, and you can tell he’s nodding on the other end of the phone. “An undoing.”

What does this kind of undoing look like? you wonder.

When the world comes to a screeching halt around you, you don’t expect to find your answer. The reality of the pandemic and quarantine — the emptiness of it, the long, drawn out days that feel long and drawn out when you’re in them but that then seem to blend together into one long, monotonous, anxiety riddled day and leave you wondering and wishing for the end — it’s hard. It’s hard in that quiet way that’s easy to ignore and push off, and hard in the way that there’s a big ache in your chest every time you go to sleep, one that crawls straight into your throat and sits there until the morning. It’s hard, and you learn to live with it. It’s hard, but somehow it brings you what you need. When distance seems to be the defining feature of your life, you don’t expect to find clarity. But you do. As you sink into the new routine of quarantine and pandemic life, and as life begins in a new rhythm with new rules and new realities — slowly and wildly new and sometimes horrific — it becomes clear to you.

What does this kind of undoing look like?

It looks a lot like feeling the emptiness in your home when Namjoon is away. Silence louder, space smaller. You find yourself reflected back to yourself, as if you are staring in a mirror.

It looks a lot like distraction. Emotional exhaustion turning into physical. You do distract — and it’s good — with a new drama or a new hobby. Exercising in your room until your cheeks are flushed. Cooking something new and delicious every night. Or sometimes just letting the small rectangle of light in your hand absorb you until the lingering discomfort is numbed, until you’re ready to fall asleep.

It looks like listening to your thoughts, really, truly listening, for the first time. Hearing the stories that you’ve built up in your head over the ears and how deeply they’ve sunk into your reality. It looks like noticing them, and wanting them to change. It looks like standing in the empty hallway of your apartment, feeling it all, and deciding to do something about it.

It looks like weird-ass sex dreams. Once dreamless nights are repopulated with strange and specific sexual fantasies featuring none other than your seven gorgeous friends in various states of undress and revelry.

It looks like letting people in again. Laughing on the phone until tears well up in your eyes. Building up the courage to tell Jimin about your vivid, even pornographic dreams. Writing letters when facetime just doesn’t do it anymore. Telling your friends just how much they mean to you, even when that voice warns you that you ought to keep your feelings held tight to your chest.

It looks like falling asleep one night, the traffic of the city now quieted by reduced travel, and the silence offering you a new kind of truth:

Love can be without limitation.

Love can be without limitation. It is allowed to flow from you without doubt or embarrassment. It is allowed to exist in the world — and in you — without needing to be reciprocated or validated. And you are allowed to ask for it. To demand it from life, even if, at times, it feels like the only place it pours forth from is from that great gaping space in your chest.

The phone rings a couple of times before it’s cut off in the middle of a digital brrng. You’re ready to hear the familiar buzz of a robotic voice reading: the caller you are trying to reach is not available—

But instead, the deep, heady voice you’re so familiar with comes over the speaker.

“Hello?”

“Hoseok?” His name feels foreign on your tongue. After all this time, pushing it away, pushing him away, welcoming his name back into your body feels almost like a fresh rain, washing away the dust on your skin.

“The one and only,” he chuckles. “What’s up?”

A ball of emotion wells up in your throat and the phone line hangs in silence as you try to glue together what you want to say, what you had practiced to say, what you should say. But it feels as if it’s all disappeared.

“I thought—”

“Did I mess up?” he blurts.

You blink in confusion. “What? No, I—”

“That night, I had so much to drink, I’m worried that… I messed up, that— ”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Hoseok.”

You can hear the breath release from his lungs and shudder through the phone. “Oh.” It’s silent for a moment. “Oh. Okay.”

“I just…” You close your eyes. Take a deep breath. “I just miss you.”

“I miss you like there’s an ocean between us,” he says, laughter mixed with sincerity threading through his voice.

“It feels like there’s ocean between us,” you sigh.

“I know,” he says, too quickly for him to realize the meaning behind your words. “But I promise this will all be over soon, babe. How long can something like this really last? In no time it’ll all be done with and I’ll be right back beside you. Right?”

You smile. “Right.”

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blackkwidowed · 4 years ago

Text

Caught in the Middle

Requested:

hi love! would you do one where reader and nat are not together just yet, but reader catches nat masturbating in her room while moaning reader's name, and things escalate from there? (lots of dirty talk please i need it) thanks a lot ❤

Summary: simple. Nat gets caught fucking herself and it goes better than she expected.

Rating: E. 18+, OBVIOUSLY. Smut, masturbation, Nat literally comes on your leg, sub!nat. obviously. dirty talk as requested. maybe a little mention of light bondage. with a belt.

Word Count: 2,408

Yes I know, it’s been a while. Sorry. Here’s something to make it up to you.

Friday nights always mean girls nights for you and Natasha.

Except, tonight it didn’t go quite the way you thought it would.

Typically, you’d just order takeout and watch movies, or you’d drink and play music and talk absolute shit for hours late into the night. Naturally, you’d expected the same again from your roommate tonight.

That certainly did not happen.

Arriving home from work, you expected to say your usual hello to Natasha before jumping straight into the shower, but she’s nowhere to be seen in your shared apartment, until you reach her bedroom.

The door is ajar, just slightly. Natasha is lying on her bed, you can see the bottom of her legs through the little gap in the door. You peek inside, and freeze.

The sight isn't something you expected, it’s not something you ever thought would occur, but you’d be absolutely stupid to ever turn away from it.

Natasha is laid back against the pillows. She has a tshirt on, one that definitely belonged to you once upon a time. She has no pants on, those beautiful thighs that you can't help but take a glance at on a normal day are bare to the world.

Most important of all though, is the hand shoved in her underwear.

You should be looking away, she’s your roommate, but you’re so incredibly aroused by the sight before you that you cannot possibly move a muscle.

Her head is thrown back against the pillows, and the desire to sink your teeth into the side of her neck is an urge you barely manage to suppress. And those soft little moans leaving her lips as her fingers move under her panties.

It’s a sight and you can't look away.

Another breathy sigh of what sounds like your name brings you back to Earth, and suddenly your focus shifts a little.

Why did Natasha leave the door open?

Your answer comes quicker than expected.

“Well,” she breathes, letting you know she’s aware of your presence. “What are you waiting for?”

You think for a moment, more so because you don't know how to respond. She looks directly at you, winking lewdly and bucking her hips against her hand. Christ.

You push the door open a little wider, choosing to lean against the doorframe. Natasha raises an eyebrow at you with a smirk. “Like what you see?”

You nod. “Maybe a little too much.”

“I haven't been reading you wrong, then.”

“It appears that way,” you mutter quietly. “Did you purposely make me catch you?”

The look she gives you, that downright sinful, lusty gaze that she gives you, is your answer. “Of course I did. Figured it was the best way to get my message across.”

You chuckle softly, moving to perch at the end of the bed. She watches you intently, attempting to observe and guess your next move.

Your fingers find her ankle, skimming across the skin before moving up her lower leg.

“So,” she breathes. “Is the fact that you’re touching me a good thing?”

You move again, this time to kneel between her spread thighs. Natasha's hand is still shoved in her panties, you can see it moving against her clit. She hasn't stopped touching herself this whole time, and you’ve definitely been a little too focused on the quiet gasps falling from her lips every so often.

Your hand covers hers, halting her movements. “It depends on how much more you’ll allow me to touch.”

Natasha has the decency to blush slightly when you add an extra bit of pressure. Though she doesn't answer you verbally. Instead, she removes her hand, lifting her fingers to your lips, daring you to taste her.

You don’t hesitate.

Natasha groans, and her fingers drop from your mouth to curl around your wrist. Her touch is soft, gentle, but spiking hot.

She guides your hand in an attempt to slip it under her panties, but this time you stop her. Instead, you take back some control, hooking your fingers under to pull them off her and throw them somewhere you don't care enough to look.

You crawl to hover over her, bringing your lips to the side of her neck to kiss hot skin. It starts soft, but she tastes so good you can’t resist trailing your tongue up her neck, light and so seductive you feel Natasha’s hips bucking already.

“I think you’ll let me do whatever I want to you,” you whisper. “I think you’ll beg me to do whatever I want to you if I make you wait long enough.”

She groans, hands clawing at your hips and fingers slipping under your belt for something to grasp and bring her back to reality.

“I think you’re already starting to lose it.” You mutter, sinking your teeth softly below her ear. “Am I right?”

You feel the nod, and you cannot physically suppress a smirk. Your lips press to her cheek, then because you can’t wait any longer, they press to Natasha’s quickly after.

Natasha tastes like liquid gold, and you can’t get enough.

Her hands rest on your hips, pulling you against her as you groan against her mouth. “Spread your legs a little wider for me.”

She hisses, but does as she’s told to your surprise, opening her thighs and increasing the gap between them for you to settle comfortably. You were expecting her to fight back, but she’s a wreck under your touch already. Not that you’re complaining of course.

She doesn't stop kissing you, only to take a shallow breath when your fingers graze her clit.

“God,” you breathe. “You’re so wet.”

Natasha’s hips buck hard and the whimper is loud. You need to hear it again, so with a final glance at her you kiss her again, slipping your tongue past her lips and forcing her hips down into the mattress with a tight grip.

“Don’t move, sweetheart.”

You don’t see Natasha’s smirk, not when you’ve already moved to sink your teeth into the side of her neck, but you do feel her leg move to hook around your waist, bringing you closer. The metal of your belt is cold and harsh against her abdomen and the sensation causes her to hiss, hands moving to sink her fingers into your back through your shirt.

You huff. “Thought I told you not to move.”

She laughs, though you pick up on the nerve in her tone. “You really thought I’d listen to that?”

Your hands push her harder against the bed, thumbs digging against her hips enough to probably leave a bruise on either side, but she doesn't mind, you know she doesn’t. She wasn't exactly quiet about her own sex life or her kinks before the current predicament. You know her a little bit too well, you think.

You snap.

Shoving your thigh between her legs, she groans, unable to buck her hips for friction from the level of force you’re using to pin her to the bed.

She’s so wet, you can feel it on your thigh; the warmth, the desperation. You need a taste. Right now, you’re struggling to think of anything that could be better than having your lips around her clit, but there’s time for that later.

You’ll give it to her though, she is trying. She’s just not good at it, keeping still. You loosen your grip a little before deciding to let go completely, instead letting your hands wander up her-your-shirt.

Your tongue finds her pretty pink nipples before you can even think about the idea, it’s an urge you can’t repress and certainly one that Natasha seems overly pleased about if her loud groan is anything to go off.

“You’re so gorgeous,” you murmur. “Gonna cover you in my marks.”

“Oh, God, please.”

You grin, sucking over a mark you’re creating on her breast.

“Y/N, I-” She pauses, takes a second to breathe. “I need to move.”

You know what she means, and the thought alone makes you breathe a moan against her neck. You trail lighter kisses up to her ear, nibbling underneath at the skin. “So do it.”

Natasha, you learn, has no restraint at all. Her movements against your thigh are firm, they’re sure. She’s chasing what she wants, hoping you won’t bite back again and put her in her place. You can’t resist.

Her fingers pull at your shirt, reaching under and around to grasp at skin. She’s definitely planning to leave some of her marks on you, and you couldn't possibly say no to that. You pause for a mere second, Natasha still bucking against your thigh, to throw your shirt over your head. Natasha keens, and her hands return to your shoulders.

You can feel the pain a little more and it’s wonderful, knowing the evidence of Natasha is going to be there for some time. She’s loud, God. She’s so fucking loud, whimpering and moaning with her eyes forced shut and her head thrown back.

You don’t kiss her, because that’d silence her, and that’s the last thing you want when she sounds that sexy.

“Such a needy, pretty little pussy,” you growl. “Look at you, you can’t even control yourself. Dirty girl.”

She whines. It’s getting harder for her to steady her rhythm so you help her out, gripping onto her hips again and guiding them with authority.

“I’m so fucking close, please,” Natasha breathes. “I need you to fuck me.”

You chuckle. “I am fucking you, technically.”

“No, I mean-”

“You want me to fill you up huh? Is that what you’re asking for, baby?”

Natasha’s groan is your answer.

“Later,” you whisper. “Don’t be so greedy.”

Her breath hitches and for a second, she goes silent. You know the signs of orgasm though, so you push against her once more, and she’s falling apart all over your thigh.

Natasha slips into Russian when she comes, on the verge of screaming something you don’t really catch between all the heavy breathing and moaning, but the thought alone has you even more uncomfortable between your own thighs.

Before she’s even calmed a little bit, her fingers are at your belt and pulling, a plea to see more of you. She wants to get off again, she needs to. She’s been dreaming of this for months, and truthfully so have you. You’re certainly nowhere near finished with her and you find it cute that for a split second, she thought you were done.

“Y/N?”

“Mm?” You hum, rocking your thigh lightly between her legs.

“Can we do that again?”

You laugh, leaning to kiss her. “I haven't even finished with you yet and you’re already begging for more?”

She rolls her eyes, lacing her fingers through your hair as she meets your lips again, slipping her tongue into your mouth.

She kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before. It’s cliche, sure, but it’s also the truth. You’re hellbent on the truth at the best of times. You scare yourself, because it’s as if you don't want to be kissed by anyone else ever again.

“At least let me touch you before you have your way with me again,” she grumbles when you pull away from her mouth. She knows where you’re headed, she could see the need to taste her all over your face. But she wants you first, she wants to feel you come apart too.

You ponder for a moment, before smirking. “Okay, fine.”

She arches a brow in surprise. “Just like that?”

You laugh, standing from the bed to pull your belt from your jeans. “It’s not always that easy.”

“No?” She questions. The sarcasm in her tone almost makes you change your mind.

You shake your head. “Wrists together.”

“Excuse me?”

“Now.” You command. Her eyes travel between yours and the belt in your hand, and suddenly it clicks. She grins, and does as she’s told. Her excitement for what you’re about to do is kind of adorable.

“So,” you breathe. “I’m gonna put those filthy hands of yours out of the way, and because you asked so nicely-”

Natasha’s pupils are blown, because she thinks she knows what you’re going to say.

“Because you’re such a good girl for me, right?” Your finger tilts her chin up, and you can’t help a smug grin when you see the dark purple marks littering her neck, her breasts.

She nods. You shake your head.

“Answer me.”

“No,” she bats her lashes. “I think we both know I’m a bad girl.”

It’s laughable how much it sounds like a bad porno in Natasha’s bedroom tonight, but with the way she looks at you like she wants you to devour her whole, it doesn't matter.

You smile, softer than before. “Right answer.”

You push her back on the bed so she’s laying flat and you rid yourself of everything to match her. With only the belt in your hand, you straddle her, grinding just the right way across her stomach, so she can feel how wet she’s made you. You groan, your head lolling back. You feel a hand on your hip. The touch is different than yours, gentler. But still beautifully firm.

She hums in delight, carding her fingers over your stomach and down, to tease between your thighs. You’re sensitive, you can already feel that without Nat touching you that you’re so damn sensitive from the build up of what you got home to. A brush across your clit though, and you’re the one desperate for more.

You reach for her wrists, kissing the inside of them briefly, an act of affection that melts Natasha more than she cares to admit.

Your voice drops to a whisper as you lean to her ear. “Is it okay if I sit on that gorgeous face of yours?”

Natasha groans louder than you’ve heard in the last few minutes. You take it as a yes, and the hunger raging in her eyes the second you go to move makes you shift a little quicker.

She wets her lips with her tongue, but before she can get her mouth on you, you pause her.

“Wait,” you say. She grumbles.

“What now?”

You manage to stop yourself from forcing her on her knees in that moment. If it wasn't for her tongue being inches away from your clit, you would have.

“I brought the belt for a reason, hands off.”

“Oh you know me so well.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #Black Widow #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #marvel #marvel headcanon #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #tag: smut #filth #guess who added the wrong gif

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years ago

Text

Leaving Him, Finding Her

Professor! Aizawa Shouta x Fem! Student! Reader

College AU

***18+ Fic***

If you are not 18 please make your way to the nearest exit, thank you and enjoy the rest of your day.

Warnings: smutty smut, HEAVY DADDY KINK, DD/LG dynamic, Daddy Dom Aizawa, complete sub reader, a temporary collar cuz I have a thing for collars (don’t come @ me, a real collar was too big a commitment to put in a forbidden hookup), praise kink in here, light oral (female receiving), bondage, shibari, unprotected sex, Aizawa being softer than a baby’s bottom, angst, fluff

Word count: 4.6 k

Author’s Note: Alright, ngl I cried writing the end to this cause I’m a little bitch when it comes to the softness after angst. Like, the only thing that makes me cry more than a sad ending is a happy one, and writing these scenes as they pley out is making me absolutely fucking weak. Also, my daddy and praise kinks are beaming, and so is my absolute love for aftercare. I’m lowkey super proud of this one, I’m a sucker for soft doms.

Update: I'm editing it. Timestamp: 3:23 am Fri, May 14. (Very minimal) Editing completed: 4:20 am Fri, May 14.

Enjoy the read~

He's beautiful. Ruggedly handsome in every way. Long, wavy, raven locks pulled into a slightly messy bun, revealing the scruff kept just barely tame on his strong jawline and chin. The dark circles under obsidian bloodshot eyes did nothing to steal from his allure. The scar under his eye and a frame too muscular for a simple college professor made you wonder what he’d done before lecturing in your physics class. It also had you wondering other things.

‘(y/l/n)’

What exactly did all that muscle look like? What did it feel like? Running your fingers down his neck and chest, trailing down his abdomen. Or crawling your hands up his legs, caressing his thick, muscled thighs. At night your thoughts ran rampant with images of your physics professor. A very naked professor, to be specific. And you had a title for him that you’d never want to reveal outside of your dorm bedroom.

‘Miss (y/l/n)’

What did he look like under the white dress shirt that was just slightly tight over his chest? And his pants that were fitted perfectly around his thick legs. You're experienced enough to know how submissive you are, and you wonder if he’d be a good dom, wonder if you could be a good enough sub for him. What did it feel like to have him bend you over his desk? Or tie you up as he ravaged your body? What did it feel like to let him have his way with you, to give him control…

“Miss (y/l/n)!”

You jump, immediately snapped back to reality, and recognize who had called your name. Your words came tumbling out without a second thought.

“Yes da-” you catch yourself, “Mr. Aizawa!... Yes, Mr. Aizawa?” Your face burned and your eyes shot wide at the fact that you’d nearly just called him the title from your fantasies. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice, and neither did any of your other classmates.

“If you aren’t paying attention perhaps the material is not challenging enough for you?” You swallow and shake your head.

“No, sir! I’m just a little tired, that’s all! I’ll be more attentive.” He raises an eyebrow at you, clearly unconvinced.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve been distracted during class. See me during office hours.”

With that he continued with the lecture on centripetal force. You groan inwardly, though you only have yourself to blame.

Your grades hadn’t slipped, even if you were zoning out in class. Mr. Aizawa hit the nail on the head when he asked if the material wasn’t difficult enough for you. You’d studied physics before, it was simple for you, and you only needed to ask for notes from your classmates to be sure you did the work the way your professor wanted it to be done. The only reason you’d been enrolled in the class was because it was a requirement, and it was your last year so you had to take it. If it weren’t for your smoking hot professor you’d have hated every second you needed to sit in the lecture hall. He released the class, and you quickly packed up and left, not seeing the darkness in your professor’s eyes as he watched you leave.

It's dark by the time you still back onto campus, Mr. Aizawa’s office hours are strangely extremely late. There's no movement in the dark hallways, the only light coming from underneath Mr. Aizawa’s office door as you approach. The fact that the institution is large enough to give every teacher their own office is beginning to bother you, your overactive imagination getting the better of you.

After a breath, you knock lightly, answered by a muffled, 'Come in'. Another breath. You twist the handle and step into the office, and the man mumbles, 'Close the door behind you please'. You oblige, though your heart is beating out of your chest.

“You wanted to see me, professor?” He hums, eyes flicking up to you as he sets a red pen down on the desk.

“Yes, miss (y/l/n). You haven’t been paying attention in my lectures.” You look down at your hands clasped in front of you, nerves and shame beginning to eat at your resolve.

“I apologize, I’ve been tired lately,” you lie, sticking with your story from earlier.

“And yet you have one of the highest grades in the class.” You keep your eyes glued to your hands, which are now fidgeting nervously. The silence is beginning to nag at your mind, your nerves buzzing.

“I think you’re lying to me.” Your eyes widen momentarily, then you force a confused expression as you look up at your professor.

“I’m not sure what you mean…” He leans forward in his chair, his elbows holding his weight on his desk.

“I mean I think you’re distracted for other reasons. If you were struggling to sleep it would be evident. I’m a prime example,” he motions to his face. You bite the inside of your lip, your heart thumping loud in your ears.

“W-what other reasons would I be distracted?” He stands up and slowly makes his way around his desk, stopping mere inches in front of you. The close proximity has your breath shallowing and your heart pounding. You keep your eyes locked onto his, something akin to fear - no, maybe it's closer to obedience - not letting you look away. He narrows his eyes at you, a skeptical but knowing look.

“Don’t think I didn’t catch that little title you let slip in class earlier.” Your eyes blow wide, your breath hitching in your throat. He walked to the door, locked it and walked back to you, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“I d-don’t…” Your words fall short when he leans down, his breath hot on your ear and neck.

“Don’t lie. What was it you almost called me?” Your body shook, your breaths jagged, but you don't answer. At your silence, he nearly growled in your ear. His left arm snakes around your waist, pulling your body into his. His right hand comes up under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Answer me, kitten.” The commanding tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine. You take a small breath before closing your eyes and answering.

“D-daddy. I...almost called you daddy.” He hums, the sound rumbling through your body.

“Open your eyes. Look at me.” You obey nearly instantly, swallowing as you meet his gaze. He let out a small sigh, words ghosted from his lips.

“Good girl.” The praise makes your entire body shudder, and a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Now, tell me why you would call your professor ‘daddy’ so automatically.” You felt your face burn, a mix of embarrassment and arousal coursing through your veins.

“I… I think about you… at night…” He tilts his head and quirks a brow, urging you to continue. Your voice is shaky, your eyes struggling to keep eye contact as you reveal your darkest secrets to the man at the center of them.

“I call you daddy when I’m alone in bed…”

“Or when you’re in the middle of a lecture.” You bite your bottom lip and nod as he finishes your sentence.

“Such a naughty little girl, aren’t you. What should you say when you do something wrong?” You swallow thickly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry.” His hand under your jaw turns and grips it hard, just enough to make you wince.

“I’m sorry, what?” Your eyes widen and your jaw quivers. Is he asking what you think he is?

“I-I’m sorry… Daddy." His grip on your jaw loosens as he turns your face to the side, leaning in and leaving a kiss under your ear.

“That's right. Such a good girl.” Your body shakes again, the feeling of his scruff on your cheek, his lips on your skin, and his voice in your ear, making your body react on its own.

“Do you have classes tomorrow, kitten?” You search your brain for the information he’s asking for, closing your eyes in concentration. After a few moments, you find the answer.

“N-no…” He pulls completely away from you, moving behind his desk and leaving you dazed. You watch, your body still recovering from whatever just happened, as he gathers his belongings. He holds the door open, turning to you.

“Come now kitten.” You blink at him, your mind trying to make sense of the situation. You follow him anyway, letting your body move on its own.

He’s a few steps ahead of you, and you follow him as he walks to his car, opening the passenger door. You get in, not quite able to question what’s happening, but trusting the man regardless. Soon the car pulls into a driveway, and you get out and follow the black haired man into the house, still dazed. His voice brings your attention to him, his hand under your chin again.

“Do you want this, kitten?” You nod.

“Use your voice, pretty girl.” God, hearing the praise is making your head spin.

“Yes. I want you Daddy.” His thumb strokes your cheek idly, grounding you in the moment.

“Good girl. Do you know what a safeword is?” You nod, the concept is more than familiar.

“Yes Daddy.”

“Do you have one?” Another nod.

“Gemini.” His hand lifts your chin gently as he leans down and slots his lips against yours. Your body relaxes, sinking into the kiss, focused on the sensations of his touch. His lips are soft, gentle, and his hands smooth down your back, landing on your hips.

He separates from you, looking down at your half-lidded eyes and blissed out state. You're already slipping into subspace. Your mind is floating, wanting to zero in on something. Anything. Your eyes aren’t quite focused, searching Aizawa’s face for a focal point. He recognizes that look. You need a platform to stand on, an anchor, and you need it desperately. He grabs your wrist and pulls you along behind him. He reaches into his bedside drawer and pulls out a small, but sturdy, black fabric choker. A play collar. Moving behind you, he loops it around you and clasped it at the back of your neck. When it's secure, he quickly moves in front of you and loops his finger under the material, giving a gentle tug. You shudder and take a deep breath, your eyes fluttering closed. It was enough. He hums, stroking your cheek gently.

“Is that better kitty?” You open your eyes to look up into his, and he swears there are hearts shining in them.

“Yes. Thank you daddy.” He pulls you into another kiss, this one more passionate. When his tongue licked at your lips you let your mouth fall open, his tongue searching the wet cavern fervently. He pulls away and tugs your sweater up over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room, doing the same with your bra. With your top half bare he pushes you backward until your knees hit the bed and you fall onto it. He leans over you, leaving soft kisses along your collarbones as he removes your jeans and panties.

Completely naked, he lets his eyes rake over your form laid out in front of him. A small, elated sigh rolls from his lips.

“So pretty, kitten.” Your eyes flutter closed from the praise.

“Thank you Daddy.” Aizawa groans and leans down to kiss and lick at your neck, letting his hands smooth over your hips and legs.

“Such a good girl. So obedient for Daddy.” He feels your body shiver beneath his fingers from that bit of praise. Getting up off the bed he reaches into a different drawer, pulling out three bundles of rope. Turning back to you, he gives a command.

“Middle of the bed, kitten. On your back, arms up.” At the order, you move, getting into the position he specified.

He crawls over and begins to tie your wrists to the bar at the headboard, the rope secure, but not too tight to be uncomfortable. When he’s done with your wrists, he moves down to your legs. One by one, he lifts them and bends them at the knee, tying your ankle to your upper thigh, and spiraling the rope up to your knee, tying knots down one side and up the other in a beautiful leg tie. Finished with his task, he leans back to admire his work. You’re nearly purring. You know how much you love being restrained, and this man had made you into an artwork, laying out for his eyes, completely at his mercy. He can see the doe-eyes you're giving him, see how still you're being, how trusting you are of him to take care of you. And he loves it.

He moves between your legs, you automatically spread them to give him room, and he leans over, whispering against your lips.

“Such a good girl for me,” before giving you a soft kiss.

“Stay still for me, pretty thing.” He gets off the bed and swiftly undresses, returning to you. You sigh out, elated as your eyes trace down his toned body, drinking in the sight of thick corded muscle rippling under scarred skin. Your gaze lands on his already erect member, thick and long, a prominent vein running underneath. You’d imagined what he could look like, but reality far outshone your imagination. The sheer awe shone through in your voice.

“You’re beautiful.” His eyebrows raise slightly, surprised at your words. Leaning down, he kisses your neck sweetly.

“Thank you kitten. Now let me take care of you.” Back between your legs, he sits on his knees and kneads your breasts in his hands, pulling and tweaking your already hardened nipples, making you mewl. Your skin feels hot at his touch, your body relishing in the pleasure his fingers give you. He leans down and takes a bud into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking it before pulling off with a small pop and moving to the other, giving it the same treatment. Rough hands grope and knead down your body, giving appreciative squeezes at your hips, before smoothing his palms down your pelvis. He sits back on his heels and gazes at your glistening pussy, already dripping with arousal. Swiping a finger up your slit, he gathers the slick there and brings it up to his lips, sucking your juices off his finger with a groan.

“You taste so sweet kitty.” You respond with a mewl and another ‘thank you’. He takes his finger and slides it into your heat, and you sigh at the sensation as he pumps it slowly, before adding a second finger. The stretch is wonderful, and he begins to curl and scissor his fingers, searching. You let out a small moan and your back arches slightly off the bed when his fingers curl and hit that spongy spot inside you.

“There it is. Does that feel good kitty?” You nod, floating on bliss.

“Yes, Daddy, it feels good.” He hums and returns his attention back to the task at hand, increasing his pace as he pumps his fingers. His other hand comes up to your pelvis, and his mouth latches onto your clit. The stimulation has you gasping and squirming under his ministrations, and the hand on your pelvis holds you still.

He slips his fingers out and holds them to your lips, and you open your mouth to suck your essence off of them.

You can feel the coil in your belly tighten, winding up as Aizawa hits all the right spots inside you that has you softly moaning and straining against your bindings. Your wet walls are fluttering around his fingers, his tongue lashing at your puffy nub.

“I can feel you. Cum for me kitty.” He reattaches his mouth to your clit and sucks harshly, his fingers digging into that soft patch inside you, and your walls clamp down as you come apart, the muscles in your abdomen tensing and arching your back off the bed. Aizawa releases your clit, but keeps pumping his fingers, letting you ride out your high.

“Such a good girl, kitty.” He pulls your hips up onto his knees as he rubs his painfully hard cock up and down your core, gathering the slick on his shaft. You desperately want to feel him inside you, but you still yourself and hold back your begging mewls. Your resilience and need to be obedient and good for him makes Aizawa groan.

“I want to hear you, kitten. Every sound you need to make, I want to hear it.” He lines himself up with your slicked hole as you nod. With that he pushes his cock into you, and you mewl out at the delicious stretch he’s giving you. You’re both panting as he bottoms out inside you and holds still, allowing you to adjust to him.

“You’re so tight babygirl. Feels so good inside you.” He grips your hips and begins a slow pace, grinding into you, making you moan and squirm, but it’s not enough.

“Please Daddy, harder, please.” The near growl that escapes him has you reeling.

“Since you asked so nicely, kitten.” He pulls out almost completely before slamming into you and setting a brutal pace, and you’re moaning out loud, your voice a sinful melody in Aizawa’s ears. Your limbs are struggling against the restraints, tugging and flexing hard. Before you know it, that coil is tightening again, pulling taut in the pit of your stomach, searing white hot pleasure pooling like magma. Your walls are fluttering again, and Aizawa reaches down to rub tight circles onto your clit, urging you to come undone. He’s pounding into you with reckless abandon, and as you feel yourself coming to that edge his hips begin to stutter, making known he’s close too. He angles his hips and ruts into you, hitting your g-spot mercilessly, and you’re pushed off the edge, moaning loud, toes curling, cumming hard and clamping down on his cock. A few more strokes, and he pulls out as he’s cumming, covering your chest and belly in his hot, thick cum.

You’re both panting as you come down from your highs, exhausted and spent. After a few minutes, Aizawa gets up and disappears behind a door, returning with a damp washcloth. He cleans his cum off of you and tosses the cloth into a hamper, before beginning to untie your legs. Once they’re both free, he slowly pulls them out and massages them, relieving the slightly cramped muscles, and you’re sighing gratefully as the tension in your body is released. He does the same with your arms as you lay there, your body weak. When he’s done, he puts a palm on your cheek, and you nuzzle into his touch, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

“How are you feeling kitty?” You let the tears fall, the intensity of the night beginning to take a toll on your mind. He pulls your body into him, cradling you as you cry quietly, letting you ride out the emotions.

He rocks you in his arms, rubbing soothing circles into your back and whispering praises into your ear, until your cries subside into small hiccups. He leans back and looks down at you, nuzzling into his chest.

“You okay, (y/n)?” You nod and take deep breaths, relaxing in his arms.

“I’m okay. Thank you.” He hums and lifts you off the bed, carrying you into the bathroom. He plugs the drain and turns the handle, letting the tub fill with warm water. As it fills, he holds you close and places soft kisses on your face and lips, showering you with affection. When the tub is full he turns off the tap and sinks down into the water, your back to his chest, and the warm water soothes your aching body. Aizawa grabs the soap and washes you, massaging you as he goes. He scrubs shampoo into your hair, fingers massaging into your scalp making you hum appreciatively. He washes himself, then drains the tub and turns on the shower head to rinse the both of you.

When you’re all rinsed, he steps out and dries himself with a towel, before helping you out and wrapping you with a fluffy towel of your own. Dried off, you leave the towel on the counter, and Aizawa scoops you up again and lays you down on the bed. He disappears again for a minute, and reappears with a glass of ice water, giving it to you to drink and climbing into bed.

When you finish sipping at the water, you leave it on the bedside table. Before you can move to get your clothes back on, Aizawa pulls you back into his chest, spooning you with his warm body.

“Sleep,” he grunts into your ear. You're too tired to argue, so you relax in his hold and let the blackness take over your mind.

You wake up in your professor’s arms. You turn to look at him, admiring his sleeping face. His voice startles you.

“It’s not very polite to stare.” Your face heats a little and you look away, suddenly shy.

“S-sorry.” He pulls you closer, nuzzling into your neck.

“It’s alright.” You sigh at the realization that this is going to end, that it has to end. You can’t share a bed with this man while you're his student, it could ruin both of you, moreso him. So you begin to move out of his arms, but he holds you tighter.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You sigh, a tired, sad sound.

“This can’t continue, Mr. - ”

“Shouta.” You blink.

“What?” He grunts, clearly unbothered.

“Call me Shouta.” You swallow down the lump in your throat.

“Shouta...this…can’t become a thing. You know that.” You can feel his breath on your neck as he sighs, and he releases you from his hold. Silently, you dress yourself. You dare to take a look back at him before you leave.

“Thank you, Shouta. I wish things were a little bit different.” He nods, whether in agreement or understanding you aren't sure.

“I’ll see you in class in a few days, (y/n).” You give a soft smile, and leave.

____

The few months before graduation were agonizing. Having to see Shouta three times a week drove you absolutely mad, and when you finally graduated you were almost happy that you didn’t have to see him again. But it was just as painful not seeing him. Your mind was riddled with the dark haired man for months after graduating. You’d lay awake at night wondering if you made the right choice, wondering if somehow you two could have met more often and kept the rendezvous a secret. Often you found yourself letting a few stray tears fall, wishing you’d been able to stay in bed with Shouta longer that morning. You were miserable. And you knew it was because even if the only intimacy you’d shared was the best sex you ever had, you had fallen madly, hilariously in love with your college physics professor.

____

Shouta stared up at his ceiling for what felt like the millionth time. His mind is on you. Always you. After you graduated, he knew he’d never see you again. And it killed him. Nearly 6 months had gone by, and he's still stuck on you, on your body. On your obedience. On your beautiful face sitting in his lecture hall. He’d seen you on the first day, and he was entranced by you nearly instantly. You were extremely smart, and he loved that. But he was a professional, a professor. Your professor. And you were his student. So he buried that attraction he felt and made sure to never let you see how much he wanted you. He only noticed you dazing off during class because he’d glance at you more often than he’d like to admit. He let it go, simply because your grades remained high. But that day he just happened to ask the class a question, and when nobody answered, he went to you because he knew how intelligent you were.

But when your words slipped from your mouth, something in him snapped. He knew there were very few explanations for you to use that title, all of them being you were thinking of someone using it. And by the near instant speed of your response, he could guess who was on your mind. That night was pure bliss. He loved every moment, and never regretted it. Even as you thanked him and walked out of his house, even knowing he may never get to spend another night with you, he didn’t regret anything. He let you walk away because that was the best thing to do. After you graduated, he could approach you again, and he’d get you back. But he couldn’t find you.

In the time since graduation he’d told his best friend and fellow professor Hizashi Yamada about the complex situation. Hizashi felt for him, knowing when Shouta fell, he fell hard, and the situation is a bad one. He was never judgemental, as he’d had his fair share of forbidden romances. The blonde would visit him in class often, bringing a fresh cup of coffee for his sulking friend. The loss was affecting him more than he liked to admit, and his sleeping habits were bad enough as it is. Hizashi’s visits were always welcome, and a nice distraction, even if they were short. But he was still hooked on you.

He's sick of feeling so defeated. He's tired of feeling so lovesick. He needs a distraction. He needs coffee. He got up and showered, and got ready to drive to the nearest cafe a mile down the road. As he stood in line to order his coffee, he let his eyes wander the cafe, drinking in the soft pastel colors on the walls. It reminds him of you. You’d always wear pastel sweaters. Once again, his mind drifted and landed on you.

And so did his eyes.

____

You had a day off work today. Deciding you didn’t want to sit around the house and sulk like you usually do, you took a shower, got dressed, grabbed your keys, wallet, phone, and a book to read, and headed to the cafe on the corner two blocks from your apartment. Sitting in the plush seat of the booth with your hot mocha latte, you cracked the book open and dove in. You got lost in the words on the pages, your mind living in the adventure written in black ink. You were ripped from your imagination when a deep voice interrupted you.

“Do you mind if I join you, kitten?” Your eyes froze on the page, jaw clenched, heart beating out of your chest. You tore your eyes from the book and looked up at none other than Shouta Aizawa.

You haven’t seen him in almost 6 months, and the man still plagued your thoughts. But the sheer joy you felt seeing him overtook you as tears fell from your eyes. Not even a moment later, you leapt from your seat and threw your arms around his shoulders. He wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tight, afraid you’d slip from him again. You cry softly into his shoulder, letting yourself enjoy the moment with the man you know you love. You can’t help the words coming out of your mouth.

“I missed you so much, Shouta. I couldn’t stand not seeing you.” Somehow, he holds you tighter.

“I missed you too, kitten.” He reaches a hand up to pet your hair as he leans back, his dark eyes peering deep into your own.

“I’m here now. And you’re not my student anymore. So if you’d let me, I’d like to take you on a date.”

You freeze in place and look up at him, shocked at what you're hearing. You don’t know if he loves you the way you do him, but in this moment you know he has very real feelings for you. Like it's instinct, you lean in and kiss him passionately, letting your tears wash away the pain you felt ever since you left him that morning. When you broke away you were both breathless, and you nod your head frantically.

“I’d love to go on a date with you Shouta.” A genuine smile spreads across his face, a clear show of his happiness.

“Would you like to come back to my place?” You nod again, and grab your book and phone and follow him out to his car.

This time, you had no reason to leave.

This time, he had no reason to let you go.

This time, you’d stay.

#aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #professor aizawa #bnha college au #aizawa bnha #shouta aizawa #aizawa shouta

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that-was-anticlimactic · 4 years ago

Text

Sokka with Tourette’s Headacanons Part Two

that no one asked for but here they are because I wanted to write more

Part One here and links to all of my other TS headcanons and such at the end!

*rubs hands together*

let’s start with premonitory urge and Sokka’s experience with it!

for those who don’t know, premonitory urges are essentially sensory tics. It’s when you feel a sensation or a discomfort in your body where you want to-- no, need to do something for touch something. For example, it can be as simple as this feeling in my body and head that I need to rub my phone screen a certain way. If I don’t rub it, the uncomfortable feeling will linger and make me anxious or extra fidgety. They can also increase tics.

Now, in Sokka’s life with TS, he has had... some problems with premonitory urge. When he was younger and training to be a warrior, there were multiple occasions where he almost sliced his fingers off because he kept getting this physical feeling that he had to touch the swords or spears etc... a certain way.

When he gets older, he finds that they start to bother him during council meetings in the Fire Nation, especially when Zuko is doing important stuff so he has to sit far away.

They’ll be in the middle of an important meeting when Sokka looks up from his doodling to glance at Zuko and this tingling, gravitational feeling suddenly moves through his body and he can’t stop staring at the edge of Zuko’s chair and he knows that he needs to rub it.

Obviously, he can’t just get up in the middle of the meeting, walk over to the Fire Lord, and rub his chair (even though they are dating and Zuko would definitely let him)

I have had experiences like this during class where I would mentally shut down or have to calm myself down from an anxiety attack because I need to rub the white board my teacher is writing on or the teacher’s desk but we are literally in the middle of class so I can’t do that (doesn’t always end like that, but that’s worse case scenario). And it sucks. So much. So, Sokka is miserable.

One time Sokka was so focused on not having an anxiety attack because his body was telling him that he needed to rub the surface of a Fire Nation elder’s desk-thingy that’s in front of his chair (because sometimes his body hates him and it happens to people he doesn’t know that well’s stuff) that he mentally shut down. He ended up squatting in his chair, rocking back and forth for ten minutes after the meeting ended without realizing it because all he could think was don’t interrupt the meeting, don’t be weird, don’t embarrass Zuko

Zuko, being the fantastic boyfriend he is, noticed that Sokka didn’t leave the meeting and thought it looked like an anxiety attack. He kind of just sat with him. He didn’t touch him because he knew Sokka wouldn’t want it and wouldn’t be able to coherently answer if he asked to touch him. Zuko just started talking about random things to try to get his mind off of the feeling.

Once he got back into the moment (with help from Zuko’s dulcet voice), he ran to the desk-thingy and rubbed it. Like, almost dramatically ran his hand across the desk and kind of just let his hand take over and rub whatever part he needed to.

Zuko was confused because this had never happened before (well, it had, but not to this extreme in front of him and Sokka never said anything) so Zuko never knew).

Sokka was kind of embarrassed, but he told Zuko about it and together they came up with a signal for when it got really bad so Zuko could either call a five minute break or make an excuse to switch seats so he could sit next to his boyfriend.

This is another reason that Zuko keeps random things on him at all times so if it gets bad, Sokka will have more to do with his hands than draw, write sentences over and over again, take notes, and tap.

Actually, lowkey stealing this particular headcanon from @tikmasjiens and their story For When He’s Being a Dumb*ss (which I highly suggest reading-- it’s fantastic!): Katara and Zuko (for the purposes of later in life when they’re dating because of course imma make it Zukka) carry little fidget kits / bags around for Sokka because he is forgetful and is sometimes so focused on one particular thing that he starts to run late for a meeting or lunch or hang out that he forgets his own personal fidget things.

The amazing Katara and Zuko have random things: brushes, atla equivalent at paper clips (aka metal things he can bend) (yes, yes, we’ve been hiding this from the world, but people with Tourette’s are actually paper clip benders lol), dice, Pai Sho tiles, and other little trinkets.

One time when Sokka was walking around an Earth Kingdom market out of boredom (and this is after the war because I just want him to not be on edge during this), he sees this young girl making noises and movements similar to him and he sees these two other kids mocking her and laughing at her and Sokka just sees red.

He actually goes over and scolds the kids (who don’t care enough to stay and listen ugh but that’s not the main focus of Sokka’s concern so it’s whatever for now) and this young girl sees him (at around age 17-18) making noises and moving ‘weirdly’ too and she’s just like “I’ve never seen anyone else do that stuff before”

and Sokka kind of just sits down with her and talks to her about his own experience and it’s not anything to be ashamed of, even though it can feel like that sometimes.

he rummages through his pockets and pulls out some of his fidget stuff and gives it to her. He, Zuko, and Katara have plenty of fidget stuff for him. Losing a few won’t matter.

Eventually, her parents return and they part ways. They never see each other again, but they never forgot each other either. It was both of their first time seeing someone else like them.

(and personal anecdote, but one time I was faculty at a camp for the weekend, and one of the kids in my group had just gotten diagnosed with Tourette’s and that was one of the most meaningful experiences I have ever had. I got to talk to him and his mom about my experience and it was... I’ll never forget that)

Sokka may be the protective older brother, but Katara is also the terrifying ‘you hurt my brother I will ruin you’ younger sister. One time, someone mocked Sokka’s tics and Katara’s protective instincts kicked in and she lectured them so hard. and very loudly. so everyone heard.

again, y’all, I know this is about Sokka with TS but WOW I love Katara too, what a queen. Let’s take a moment and appreciate the queen that she is.

Ty Lee and Sokka do yoga together at least twice a week. They both find it relaxing and fun and nice, but it also helps Sokka begin the day with less stress in his body. It doesn’t cure his TS, because there is no cure and he needs no cure, but it definitely helps sometimes.

Something that absolutely kills Sokka is that he wants to cuddle with Zuko at night so badly, but sometimes he genuinely just can’t. Zuko’s arms around him will make him feel too trapped and restrained, his arms around Zuko make him paranoid that if he moves too much, he’ll make Zuko uncomfortable and just stressed himself out by only being able to think about “am I moving too much?” “can Zuko feel me move?” “stay still stay still stay still” and it’s just not fun and he gets tense

But sometimes, he can cuddle and he loves it! Because as much as he hates being held, he desperately longs to be held. As self-conscious as he gets when he holds Zuko, he wants to be able to hold Zuko.

So when he feels like he can cuddle with Zuko, he gets so excited!

Zuko swears up and down that the lack of cuddling on occasion does not bother him, but Sokka still has trouble believing him (not that he doesn’t trust him, but he can’t understand how someone would be okay with it)

One time, Sokka was so distressed about whether or not Zuko was upset with him or pretending not to be upset to spare his feelings that Zuko invited Toph over so she could inform Sokka that he was, in fact, telling the truth about it being okay that they can’t always cuddle and be physically affectionate.

Sokka’s verbal tics both annoy him and don’t annoy him. He’s so used to hearing them that they don’t bother him anymore, but sometimes they make it hard for him to talk and he can feel them and that’s what bothers him.

He’s also self-conscious that everyone hates his verbal tics and are annoyed by them.

On a really bad head day for Sokka, the gaang was going to see a theatrical show per Zuko’s request and it was the first time in months they had all been able to hang out together and Sokka wasn’t having a good tic day and was so genuinely afraid to go to the show because he was going to tic and make noises and what if he distracted everyone? what if the strangers in the audience got mad at him? what if the ushers forced him to leave? how embarrassing would that be?

so he pretended to be sick and didn’t go

but Toph saw through his crap and stayed behind as well because “you’ve heard a play once, you’ve heard it a thousand times” and when everyone leaves, she calls Sokka out and asks him what was up

and he knew he couldn’t get away with lying to Toph, so he told her the truth and she just kind of laughed and went “they don’t bother any of us, seriously”

and Sokka was just “how do you know? It’s not like how much my tics don’t annoy you come up naturally in conversation”

and Toph goes “I don’t need to talk to them about it to know that no one’s bothered by them. Besides, they care about you more than they care about what sounds you make” then punched his arm

(and if Sokka silently cried, no one needed to know)

so, overtime, he gets the nerve to ask everyone individually (because there’s no way he could do everyone at once) just to make sure he wasn’t bothering them. He doesn’t get to ask everyone because some of them kind of get a feeling that he’s anxious about it (and if Zuko maybe mentioned it to some people so they approached him and causally mentioned they weren’t bothered, no one needs to know oops) (don’t worry, Zuko didn’t say anything super personal. Just like “tell Sokka his tics don’t bother you because he thinks they do”. Not like the details and stuff Sokka told him in private)

Katara didn’t answer, just asked if she could hug him and said that she loved him no matter what (and ten minutes later asked him if anyone told him that because if someone in the gaang said it, then she wouldn’t be afraid to spill blood)

Zuko, ever the dramatic and romantic one, knelt in front of Sokka (who was sitting) and went “I love you. I love every single part of you.” *kisses his hands* “I love you for your finger clenching and fist pumping.” *kisses his shoulders* “I love you for your shoulder rolling...” *kisses his neck* “your neck twitches...” *kisses his nose* “your nose scrunching...” *gently kisses each eye* “your blinking...” *kisses his lips* “and for every verbal and motor tic you’ve ever had and ever will have”

(look, I’m just... I’m so soft for that moment and I think about it constantly)

Suki gives him this hard and serious look and says “you are not annoying. You never have been and you never will be” and from just her stare and tone of voice, he knows she’s telling the truth.

Aang immediately just starts rambling and is like “I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel that way but you as so far from annoying! Honestly, sometimes I forget they’re even there I’m just so used to them-- not that they’re forgetful or anything, but they’re just so normal to me that I don’t notice-- why are you crying? Did I say that wrong? I’m sorry--”

and Sokka just grabs him and hugs him and says “No. I love you. Thank you.”

Mai is bad at emoting but she tells him “I don’t mind them. They’re comforting. Sometimes. Better than the sound of an empty house or screaming.”

Ty Lee immediately goes into “who told you you were annoying? I have some new moved I’d like to try. Give me names and they’re test subjects number one” and even Sokka feels fear at the look on her face even though the anger isn’t directed towards him

Azula is kind of snarky at first (because she’s trying not to, but it’s hard and it’s not her fault). She just gives him this seriously? look and kind of goes “you really think they’re significant enough to bother me?” and Sokka knows that’s Azula’s healing way of saying “no, they don’t bother me”

okay but let’s also talk about Hakoda and Piandao and Iroh because I want to and I love them

Hakoda kind of does what Katara does and asks if he can hug him and just tells him how proud he is of Sokka for the man that he’s become and that his TS is a part of who he is and it’s a part of his identity and there’s nothing his TS could ever do to make him any less proud

Piandao actually talked to Sokka about it during Sokka’s Master because it was holding him back of bit. Sokka was kind of embarrassed and was getting frustrated with it. Piandao sat him down and told him that perceived weaknesses are actually one of our greatest strengths. Being a nonbender looks like a weakness to many benders who rely solely on their bending, but it takes a certain kind of person to be a nonbender and that’s something to be proud of. The things that make you different are sometimes the things that teach you how special you are.

Piandao just sees so much potential and good in Sokka and Sokka looks up to him so much.

Iroh always lends Sokka extra or old Pai Sho tiles to fidget with. He also has this relaxing tea that helps his mind feel calm. Again, not with the intent to “fix” or “cure” him, but it helps his anxiety levels go down, in turn helping his tics relax.

Iroh tells Sokka that his tics are nothing to be ashamed of and that true friends would stick with him, tics or no tics.

hey? hey? guess what? Bumi ll didn’t just inherent the nonbending from Sokka, he also got the Tourette’s genes:)

imagine the Uncle / Nephew bonding between them

like, Bumi ll asks him why Kya and Tenzin don’t do weird things but he does? and Sokka just smiles sadly because he knows the feeling and talks to him about Tourette’s.

Bumi ll also got lucky because Katara saw the signs instantly and got him tested as soon as she could.

Let’s just say, aside from the gaang, the Kataang family is the most supportive family of his TS:) (it doesn’t hurt that his aunts and uncles will hung down anyone who ever makes him feel like trash and lecture them or their parents oops)

this is something I have mentioned before, but Sokka struggles to sit through meetings. Having TS and ADHD make it so hard for him.

sometimes he just feels so out of place because in this room full of people, he’s the only one rocking back and forth in his chair and changing his position every three seconds and jerking his head. He just feels... so wrong when he sees how still everyone else is sitting. Yeah, occasionally he’ll see some people tapping their foot or tapping the table in front of them with their fingers, but it’s not the same.

BUT on a happy note and not to make this all depressing (because TS sucks sometimes, but there’s nothing wrong with it or us and it’s a part of who we are) Sokka 100% has a top ten list of his favorite and least favorite tics of all time (I don’t know if people keep track of their favorites or if that’s just something I like to do, but I would imagine that a decent amount of people with TS know their favorites and least favorites)

I won’t bore y’all with an actual list, but his favorite tic is rocking back and forth. The motion is so soothing and comforting to him. Like, it feels right to be rocking. Yeah, sometimes he gets self-conscious about it, especially if he’s the only one in the room moving, but it feels so nice and right.

Sokka: *tics a couple times in a row* ughhhh that was not fun

Toph: *jokingly* wow, I mean, can’t you just, I don’t know, stop? Just, not do it?

Sokka: *jokingly* great idea, Toph! Why didn’t I think of that? All I needed to do all along was just not want to tic!

Toph is the only one ever allowed to do this bit with him. Sokka thinks it’s the funniest thing and it never fails to make laugh

Toph said that out of sarcastic instinct one time and almost choked on her drink because she felt so bad but Sokka was stifling a laugh and replied super sarcastically and then just laughed.

Toph still felt really bad and apologized (Sokka told her it was fine and he wasn’t upset, but she’s also been on the other side of jokes like that and it’s not fun).

Now, though, it’s kind of their thing. They do it every once in awhile and it flows like any other banter. It just happens and they don’t even blink.

(if anyone else did that to Sokka, though, Toph would probably rob them or like soak their clothes in cactus juice so they’re all sticky idk, she just wouldn’t stand for it)

Sokka actually takes a leave of absence from being an ambassador to travel around the four nations and visit schools with Toph and Zuko (who also take breaks). The three of them go to educate schools on disabilities (their own and others).

Sokka also personally makes it his mission to sit in one class at every school and see if there’s anything that he can give advice on. Sometimes, he talks to principals and teachers about how to help accommodate students with learning or “disruptive” disabilities so that they can get the best education that they can while still feeling comfortable and safe.

Now, the three don’t get this all done at once, it takes a year or two, but they do it and all three are just... really proud of it.

Sokka really struggles with Locus of Control (LOC). For those who don’t know, LOC is “ a psychological concept that refers to how strongly people believe they have control over the situations and experiences that affect their lives” (Ed.glossary.org).

Sokka, as many headcanon, likes having control over situations or likes having things ordered and scheduled. He doesn’t like changes to his schedule, he likes having schedules... his tics, on the other hand, are not something he can control or schedule

Giving up that control is hard for him. It wasn’t too bad as a child in a super small village, but once he left the SWT with Aang and Katara, he realized how different having tics was (although he was the only one back at home with tics, he often worked with restless children)

He went through a period of time where he thought that he could control his tics, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t. Thus, the loss of control he feels.

He actually went through a ‘phase’ once where he thought that maybe he was making his tics up and doing them on purpose for attention or to be different or something. Katara quickly shut him down and told him that he wasn’t doing that.

I once saw someone say that Sokka has imposter syndrome and I think it correlates a bit with LOC in this context (I should actually do some research about that...).

Learning to understand that he won’t always have control is hard for him. Like. Really hard. He tried so desperately to control his tics and it just increased his anxiety and wore him out. Trying to control tics freaking hurts.

Aang is actually the one to help him with that. He’s had a lot of experience of not being able to control his own life, and although their situations are different, he has methods he uses to attempt to prevent himself from overthinking too much and letting his anxiety take control.

After that, Sokka doesn’t struggle with LOC as badly as he did before. It still sneaks in time after time, but it’s never too prominent and Aang is always there with some advice and distractions:)

(I just also love Aang so much and he deserves the world)

Although Sokka is “weird” with touch, there is one type of touch he is almost always on board with: massages. Massages. I’ll say it one more time: massages. They feel so nice. He carries so much stress in his back and shoulders because of how much he moves them due to his tics.

Zuko can tell when Sokka’s shoulders and back start to hurt really badly and will just sit behind him, heat his hands up (not too much), and give him the absolute best massages.

No. Seriously. Zuko gives the best massages (Sokka once wanted to return the favour and uhhh.... Zuko was not a fan. Although Friends isn’t the best show to take examples from, but uhh Sokka gives massages like Monica Gellar. That is all. Zuko gets his massages from Ty Lee).

Suki gives the second best massages.

Katara third.

So, there’s this one Kyoshi Warrior that works with Suki on guard that Sokka just can’t crack. She has an RBF and rolls her eyes and stuff a lot and she uhhh is kind of rather facially expressive but like, RBF style, so one time when Sokka is having a bad tic day, she makes a face.

It wasn’t aimed towards him, it was about something else, but his heart just breaks because this girl he had been trying to get to open up a bit to him and let loose and not be so freaking serious all of the time hates him.

and later she approached him and just “Sorry. I don’t... I don’t get annoyed by your tics or you or anything. I find them soothing and, I don’t know, nice. Like a reminder that the Fire Lord’s boyfriend is still safe. And they sound nice. I don’t hate them. Or. You.” (look, feelings are hard for her)

and Sokka just :D

alrighty, this is longer than I intended... so we’ll end with me mentioning something I mentioned last time: Yue! (I love her). She never once brings up Sokka’s tics. She never makes faces or asks him why he makes sounds. She’s studied a lot, and while there isn’t too much out there about TS, it’s the NWT, they have lots of books. She could see the signs and assumed.

Never once in the amount of time that they knew each other did she mention it. Sokka appreciated not having to explain himself. He felt safe and welcome there with Yue.

Thank you for reading, anyone who made it to the bottom! I enjoy talking about TS as well as my own experience with it. I love writing about Sokka with TS in particular. There isn’t a lot of TS rep out there, really only the one episode of South Park (don’t watch the show, but I watched the clips about Tourette’s education that the Tourette’s Association of America approved of. It was really heartfelt and lovely to watch and is also a good representation of coprolalia!) and the movie Front of the Class.

My ask box is always available for questions about TS, Sokka with TS, Jay (Ninjago) with TS, anyone’s personal TS headcanons or experience, or any underrepresented neurological disorder that you want to share!

List of TS Stuff Already Written: Part One here , Deeper Than Words (a oneshot I wrote on ao3 of Sokka with TS), a lovely Sokka with TS oneshot written by @tikmasjiens (sorry for tagging you twice ahhh) here , Stuck (a Sokka with TS excerpt from a fic I’m writing), NInjago Jay!TS Oneshot

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 27

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: If you read carefully, you knew this; if you didn't: reader was drugged at the party. Hangover from Hell ft. boys being cute, Loki being best friend material and reader fully integrating him into the Gen-Z community via Monster energy drinks and depressive music whilst being sad. I live for Loki/reader friendship tbh.

So folks, this is the last big plot thing before the endgame. I reckon it's about 10-15 chapters left until out happy ending and the next bit is going to focus on developing reader's and Stephen's relationship. There will be smutty parts too - either chapters or interludes, idk, depending on how well they'll integrate into the story.

I love y'all.

Ow, was my first thought upon waking up. My head throbbed something fierce, the pressure behind my eyelids was unbearable and my mouth tasted like a bog on a sunny summer's day. I was warm, from both sides, and one of the bodies felt foreign in everything besides the smell - sandalwood leaked through the lead curtain of alcohol and sex.

Needless to say, I had trouble piecing together the fine details of last night but had enough coherence to remember our... Activities. I was sore and Strange's long arm was still possessively draped over both me and Tony. The luck was on my side as I carefully wiggled out of his grasp, padding to the bedroom on quiet feet. The sorcerer barely moved, only grumbling briefly at the loss of my warmth and immediately quieting, shamelessly snuggling into Tony.

I would have not exaggerated if I said it was the worst hangover of my life. It was baffling, really, because I'd gone way wilder and didn't suffer half as much after effects; my first attempt to brush my teeth ended with my face resting against the toilet bowl, my empty stomach rejecting what little liquid in it was left as the room spun on its axis. That was incredibly embarrassing and I hoped my boys wouldn't wake up to witness my best impression of a bum - and they didn't, both men still sound asleep and interwined like snakes when I put on the shirt closest to me and departed in search of coffee.

My mood only worsened. Steve and Bucky were already up, shoveling an impressive amount of eggs and bacon, as Bucky quietly teased Steve about his own hangover. The blonde man was slightly greenish, disheveled - we traded equally glum looks and nodded to each other in silence. The smell of food made my stomach churn and I retreated, one black coffee in hand, towards Bruce's lab, having been informed by Friday that neither Tony not Stephen planned on waking up.

"Morning, Princess," Bruce smiled kindly, pushing his glasses out of the way to hold me close and give me a sweet kiss. "Had fun? The boys still asleep?"

I giggled at Bruce calling Tony and Stephen boys. "Yeah. I wouldn't be wearing Stephen's shirt if he was up and about, I think." I pointed out the obvious.

Bruce chuckled, holding my face to give me a long, thoughtful look. I stared back, hoping convey my respect and adoration without having to say a word; like Tony, I wasn't particularly apt when it came to talking feelings. Whatever Bruce was looking for, he found it, and sealed it with another kiss, twice as long and twice as sweet. We stood like that, my head on his shoulder and my arms firmly holding him to myself, until the elevator dinged behind the glass wall, revealing a shirtless Stephen and Tony in his pajama pants, both men bickering animatedly.

"Aw shit, here we go again," I rolled my eyes, unhappy about the possibility of the magic being broken. I rather preferred all three men to be like yesterday: friendly, kind and relaxed.

"I will kick them out if I have to," Bruce shrugged, turning me around to face them.

Tony smiled, seeing me, stopping mid-conversation. "Princess, I am disappointed in your lack of manners. You left me with Merlin and he is mean." The engineer unceremoniously snatched me from Bruce and smooched me, hangover breath and all.

"Gross, Tony," I rolled my eyes, giving the man a light shove in the chest. "Morning, Steph," I addressed the third man who had gone back to his usual stoic expression. Just to see his resolve crack, because I loved pushing his buttons, I gave him a good morning kiss too, and was unexpectedly blown away by the eager response from his side. As I pulled back, I noticed his cheeks dusting a light pink.

"I came to get my shirt but I think you'd rather keep it," The sorcerer's fingers caressed my skin beneath the collar of his shirt, voice still low and scratchy from sleep and those magnetic eyes fixated on the exposed flesh of my chest, no trace of previous awkwardness.

"You sure 'bout that?" I pushed one of the sides off, exposing my shoulder, seeing Tony gulp the remainder of my coffee, one hand already messing with the screen that Bruce was focused on. "I think I look better without it," I would never miss an opportunity to tease the uptight man.

"Quite," He grinned, "It's a shame I didn't get to see much last night..." Two could play this game, okay.

"Oh, but you will," Tony piped up suddenly, a hint of smugness in his voice barely covered by Bruce's fond chuckle. I really didn't know what to say, suddenly overwhelmed with the attention, my emotions amplified by the hangover - party drugs tended to exaggerate my anxiety on the comedown.

And what a comedown it was. My social energy ran out very quickly so I complained about a nasty headache and retreated into my room, Bruce's gentle hands pressing a bottle of Ibuprofen into my own. Despite my attempts to tame my rioting body, it got worse before it got better and shortly before lunch, I had thrown up twice more. Pissed off, I ran a bath with cold water and sat in it until I felt somewhat human to prepare myself for a journey to Wanda's apartment - as a last resort, I was going to chug on of Pietro's Monster energy drinks that I knew he kept hidden there.

The retrieval was a success. Cans securely hidden in the kangaroo pocket of Tony's oversized hoodie I had thrown on, I had to make a haste detour to throw up once again - the closest bathroom was in Loki's apartment and I only managed to knock twice before throwing open the door and making a mad dash for the porcelain throne, a very confused Asgardian following my movements with raised eyebrows.

"Hangover from Hell," I croaked once the first wave subsided. Loki nodded in understanding, waved a hand to summon me a water bottle and shut the door behind himself.

As I sat there, desperately trying to understand why was I feeling like utter shit... It clicked. Bile rose to my throat once again, and I just dry heaving, mulling my revelation over and over again.

I didn't take any drugs. I had been drugged. My memories became hazy and dream-like shortly after someone had given me the drink... Someone, who? It was a split-second moment; Sam, even in his drunk state, didn't keep his eyes off me for too long. Maybe it had been someone the team knew? Possibilities began playing out in my head. Cursed was my overactive brain - the anxiety from the leftover drugs was making me panic.

"Fuck, FUCK," My hands shook - I only noticed it because I had spilled water on myself, adding cold and wet to the unpleasant sensations I was already experiencing. "Why am I such a fucking fuck-up." Taking a drink from a stranger seemed downright idiotic now. Middle school bullshit.

"Are you alright?" Loki's worried voice interrupted my inner monologue.

"Yes," I replied, voice cracking. "No. I don't fucking know."

The door all but flew open, the Asgardian taking several long strides to take a good long look at me. The frown on his face tells me all I needed to know about my physical and mental state.

A slender hand tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "What happened?"

I laughed tersely, feeling tears to begin welling in the corners of my eyes. "I'm an idiot," Seeing his face get annoyed briefly, I conceded: "I got drugged yesterday. My drink."

The hand that he had slid between my shoulder blades froze. I felt his whole body go rigid and his nostrils flare, the smell of ozone and something foreign - magic - filling the small space. The air around us became charged with the power of his anger. "Pardon?" His voice was dangerously quiet.

I physically fought with the need to flinch away from him, settling for lowering my eyes and staring at the dark stain on my hoodie. "I got carried away dancing. Someone handed me a drink and my stupid ass just shotgunned it," I confessed, picking at the wet spot. "And I can't tell anybody because I had a threesome with Stephen and Tony," I suddenly realised, my voice raising in pitch. "They're gonna think I didn't want it and feel bad. You know how Tony blames himself for everything under the sun..." Another wave of dizziness and nausea hit me as I leaned against the wall closest to me.

"Alright," Loki conceded after a brief pause. "We absolutely are telling the others. I'll make sure they understand," The Asgardian stated firmly in a tone that bore no argument. Seeing me lift my head to protest, he interrupted me before I could say anything: "Did you... Did you want it?" He asked me, hooking a single finger under my chin to look me in the eye.

I nodded, feeling my face heat up.

"You're not lying. The team knows of my ability to detect lies. Nobody will blame anyone..." Loki trailed off, obviously already plotting something. I wished it were a prank both of us were conspiring on instead of... Trying to make sense of this cluster fuck of a shit show. The circus called, they seemed to have left their clowns behind. "Although I will have a word with Sam." The Asgardian muttered darkly.

"No, it's not his fault. I just got too relaxed, I need to pucker up and be responsible for myself," I protested, damn well knowing it wasn't the Bird's fault. Everyone was drunk and I should've known better.

"It's not yours either," Loki sneered, seeing right through my self-loathing. It took a deep, slow sigh for him to calm down. His expression softened and the hand that was on my back resumed the gentle stroking as he scooted closer to me to press my side against his chest. "Vile people of this kind aren't exclusive to Midgard. It could have happened to anyone."

I nodded, my logical part briefly taking over as the waves of nausea and dizziness waned. I stifled a giggle, coming to another sudden revelation. "You holding up my hair as I barf out my hangover? That makes you qualified for the position of my Best Friend," I stated with a snort.

Loki chuckled, relaxing bit by bit. "I accept the position," His voice was unusually soft and a little bit shaky; I chose to tactfully ignore it. "Shall I call for assembly in the war room?"

I sighed, the dread and anxiety creeping it's way back in. "Can we just... Wait a bit? I have something- hold on-" I rummaged around my pocket, taking out two cans of Monster. Loki eyed them curiously and I extended one to him. "It probably won't do much for you but for me it's a last-resort hangover cure." I popped open the metal cap, seeing him do the same. "Be warned though, it tastes kinda funky if you're not used to it," I announced the disclaimer but it simply egged Loki on.

The scrunched up face he made was pretty funny. "It's sour but sickeningly sweet at the same time? I can't tell," He briefly eyed the written ingredients on the can.

"There are a bunch of flavors. Pietro likes the plain one, I like the purple one better, it's not so tongue-burning." I paused to inhale loudly. "If this is what college life looks like, I don't want to go," Mustering up my courage and gathering my balls in a knot, with one broad motion I closed my nose and poured the carbonated acid down my throat until my eyes watered. "Gimme a minute," I hiccuped, trying to keep it down.

Wide-eyed, Loki took a chaste sip of his own drink, eyeing me warily. He looked part impressed part disgusted with the little stunt. "I am pretty certain that is counter-productive."

"Caffeine make brain and body go skrrt," I argued back. "Friday, play my "grant me the sweet release of death" playlist. I'm upset," I announced and the AI obliged silently, the first notes of Placebo's 'Exit Wounds' beginning to play. If I was going to mop in a stranger's bathroom, I was going to do it with style. Even if said style was just simply stealing in my own misery with emo background music.

Loki stared at me, I stared back, both of us lost in our respective minds. At one point, he began swaying to the music slightly, resting the cool tin of the can against his cheek; I followed suit, mouthing along to some of the lyrics. It took us about a dozen songs to finally finish the liquid acid that was Monster energy drink and my ass felt like the bathroom tile itself: flat and hard.

"Do you ever feel like the universe just hates you for no fucking reason?" I groused, taking Loki's outstretched hand and slowly feeling the blood rush back to my legs.

"You wouldn't believe," He rolled his eyes in solidarity, vanishing away the empty containers. "Norns, give me a Hel-damned break."

I laced his arm through mine as we exited his apartment, feeling considerably less upset than I was before. I couldn't protect myself, but one look at Loki's sullen, irritated expression was bound to scare off anyone who dared to interrupt our mission.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x y/n #tony stark x you #tony stark x reader #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader

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mikauzoran · 3 years ago

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Lukadrien: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Twenty-Seven

@lukadrien-june

Read it on AO3: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Twenty-Seven: Goodbye

“G Flat. Sup?” XY greeted, leaning on the frame of the door to his flat.

“Hey, Xavier-Yves. Sorry for coming over so early,” Adrien apologized guiltily, gaze downcast as he scuffed at the marble tile of the apartment building hallway.

XY shrugged. “It’s whatever. Something wrong? You look all…floppy.”

Adrien winced, meeting Xavier-Yves’s eyes with a grimace. “I’m kind of rough lately, actually…but I came because I need to talk to you about something. May I come in?”

With another carefree shrug, XY straightened up and stepped back out of the way. “Yeah. Sure. Come on in and make yourself at home. You want some soda?”

Adrien shook his head as he made his way straight to the couch. “I’m fine, thank you. I shouldn’t be long.”

“Meh. Suit yourself.” XY went to fish a bottle of orange soda out of the fridge as he prompted, “So what did you need to talk about?”

Adrien swallowed, shifting anxiously. “Luka.”

XY paused, looked back over his shoulder at Adrien, and cursed in English. “Is that why you look like they ran out of those nifty little umbrellas they put in your drink?”

Adrien could think of at least a dozen more fitting analogies for his current countenance, but he decided not to squabble over word choice. “Yes.”

He took a slow, measured inhale. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop the other day, but I accidentally overheard that song you wrote for Luka.”

XY quirked an eyebrow, taking a long pull from his bottle of soda as he came over and sat down in the armchair across the coffee table from Adrien.

Adrien dropped his gaze to the ugly chartreuse area rug as he confessed, “I heard you tell him you loved him, and I saw you guys kissing.”

“Did ya see what happened afterward?” Xavier-Yves hummed.

Adrien shook his head and forced himself to look up.

He searched his rival’s eyes. “…Are you and Luka…dating?”

The word was almost physically painful to get out.

A smirk in miniature turned up one corner of XY’s mouth. “No. What gave you that idea?”

Adrien opened his mouth to reply but then shut it again to more carefully consider his response.

“…It just seemed like the obvious outcome,” he finally answered. “He really likes you, you know? I don’t think he knows how much he likes you, but he does.”

Xavier-Yves nodded, sinking back comfortably into his armchair and spreading his knees wide. “Yeah. I know…but he picked you.”

Adrien’s eyebrows rose to meet his hairline. “…Sorry. What?”

XY lifted his right shoulder and then let it fall. “He picked you.”

“I don’t…I don’t understand,” Adrien replied, heart quickening, chest tightening.

XY rolled his eyes. “Okay. Look. I’m going to do you a favor, G Flat, and tell ya something good. Don’t tell Luka I told you, but he’s in love with you. He’s been crazy about you since you faceplanted on his deck or whatever. Okay? So, he picked you.”

“Luka loves me?” Adrien breathed, gripping the arm of the couch to keep himself upright.

Xavier-Yves let out a loud snort of laughter. “And they say I’m dense. Yes, Adrien. Luka’s over the moon about you.”

Adrien’s jaw nearly skimmed the floor in his astonishment. “Really?”

“Really,” XY sighed, quickly tiring of this little game. “So go out with him already. Make him happy.”

Adrien’s expression suddenly tightened into a tense ball of confusion and suspicion. “Wait. Why in the world would you tell me that? Isn’t it against the bro code or something? Nino would never tell me about Marinette’s crush on me, and he didn’t say anything to his girlfriend about my feelings for Marinette. I don’t think you can just say stuff like that.”

Xavier-Yves looked utterly unimpressed. “Okay, look. If I don’t say anything, you and Luka are never gonna get together because you’re both dumb and like to make yourselves suffer. I don’t really have friends besides Luka, so I’m not so sure about this ‘bro code’ thing, but I think I’m doing you both a favor, telling you Luka’s in love with you.”

“You are,” Adrien agreed, still skeptical. “What I can’t figure out is why you’re doing this.”

With another sigh, XY rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion. “Duh. You’re my friends. I love Luka, and I want him to be happy, and you’re what will make him happy. Plus, the sooner you two start dating, the sooner you can screw everything up and get Luka to break up with you. Then, I can swoop in and sweep Luka off his feet. Super romantic.”

Adrien burst out laughing. “Xavier-Yves…you’re really something.”

XY gave a lopsided, pride-filled grin as he shot finger guns at Adrien. “You bet I am.”

Adrien slowly shook his head from one side to the other, a nascent smile taking form on his lips. “Thank you.”

XY made a shooing gesture. “Don’t thank me. Go ask Luka out or something already. My genius plan only works once you either make Luka happy or screw up and get dumped so I can make Luka happy.”

A grateful grin settled on Adrien’s lips as he stood. “Thank you, Xavier-Yves. Seriously.”

“Yeah, yeah.” XY took another swig of his orange soda. “Maybe we can have a threesome sometime or something. You two still have to hang out with me once you’re a couple, you know.”

“We will,” Adrien promised, a spring in his step as he rushed back to Luka.

Luka looked up from where he was preparing chestnut paste crêpes for brunch as Adrien came around the corner into the main cabin.

The nerves didn’t hit Adrien in full force until he saw Luka; then, it was all fluttery sensations in his chest and butterflies in his stomach.

Their eyes met, and Adrien nearly swooned.

“Hey. Everything okay?” Luka tentatively inquired. “You were gone when I woke up.”

Adrien ran a hand through his hair and swallowed before he managed to compose himself enough to answer. “Yeah, no. It’s fine. I’m fine. I just…I needed to get some fresh air?”

Luka nodded, making a neutral sound of acknowledgement. “Did you eat already?”

Sheepishly, Adrien shook his head. “Food was kind of the last thing on my mind this morning.”

Luka beckoned Adrien over with a tip of his head, indicating the crêpe he had just made. “Go ahead and take this one. It’s still hot.”

“I’m not going to take your food, Orpheus,” Adrien scoffed, coming around into the kitchen.

“I have enough batter to make another one. It’ll only take a minute, but you might as well eat this one because it’s going to be cold by the time I finish this second one,” Luka reasoned.

“Or you could eat that one, and I can make one for myself,” Adrien countered, giving Luka’s hip a little bump with his own, encouraging Luka out of the way of the stovetop.

With a chuckle of amusement, Luka stood down, leaning back against the counter as he ate his crêpe and longingly watched Adrien work.

“I’m really good at making crêpes,” Adrien bragged. “It’s one of the first things Tom showed me.”

“I have no doubt about your abilities,” Luka assured, eyes tracking Adrien’s graceful movements.

Before long, a nearly perfect crêpe took form, and Luka had to applaud his crush. “That looks even better than mine. I should have you make me breakfast next time.”

“I’d be happy to cook for you,” Adrien easily agreed, eager to please. “I like it a lot. Mostly, Tom’s been teaching me down in the bakery, but Sabine’s showed me recipes from time to time too, and I’m finding that I like cooking about as well as baking.”

“Well, if you want to take some of my family meal cooking shifts, I’m not going to stop you,” Luka half-joked.

“Maybe I could join you for some of your shifts and we could cook together,” Adrien suggested. He always had a good time in the kitchen with Luka.

“I mean…if you really don’t mind. I don’t want to put extra work on your plate,” Luka responded tentatively.

“I don’t mind,” Adrien stressed. “I like cooking, and I like spending time with you, so…win-win, you know?”

“So long as you think so,” Luka chuckled, a slight blush building on his cheeks.

“I do,” Adrien replied decidedly.

He then bit his lip, his confidence abandoning him. “…Hey. So…would you want to go on a walk with me after we clean up here? Are you busy?”

Luka shook his head. “I didn’t have anything planned for today. Where did you want to go? Anywhere in particular?”

“The Parc Monceau?” Adrien asked uncertainly. “Sorry. I know it’s kind of out of the way.”

“It’s fine,” Luka assured with a calming smile. “The Parc Monceau sounds nice.”

While not completely free from tourists, the Parc Monceau was definitely more of a spot for locals than some of the better-known parks of Paris.

Luka and Adrien took the motorcycle up to the eighth arrondissement, parking outside of the gates and beginning their stroll around the grounds.

The scent of damp earth from the previous day’s storm still lingered in the air.

“I’ve always wanted to come here on a date,” Adrien remarked as they walked past the semicircular, eighteenth-century colonnade at the northeast end of the pond that had been made to look like Roman ruins.

“Oh, yeah?” Luka hummed, trying to keep his expression and voice neutral.

Adrien nodded as they made their way onto one of the main avenues that ran through the park where many a Parisian was walking their apartment-sized dog.

“I’ve done a couple photoshoots here, and I always thought the atmosphere was romantic,” Adrien explained. “It’s kind of whimsical with all of the miniatures of exotic architecture and the pond and the trees and flowers and everything…don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Luka agreed. “It’s—”

He abruptly lost his train of thought as Adrien slipped his hand into Luka’s.

Luka stared in bewilderment at Adrien, and Adrien responded with a shy smile.

Still wondering what the hell was going on but not wanting to jinx it, Luka returned the smile and laced his fingers through Adrien’s.

Adrien’s smile grew, gaining confidence as it morphed into an effulgent grin reminiscent of that day in the Jardin du Palais Royal.

It was so good to see Adrien smile like that after two weeks of feigned cheerfulness and cloudy, distant eyes.

“Come on.” Adrien gently tugged Luka over to the footbridge. “I want to show you my favourite spot.”

They ascended the steps and moved over to one side so that others could pass behind them as they gazed out at the man-made pond and the classical columns through the foliage.

“Sorry,” Adrien chuckled, releasing Luka’s hand and placing his own on top of the bridge railing.

“Why ‘sorry’?” Luka wondered, suddenly uneasy.

Adrien turned his head to give an impish grin. “I feel like I tricked you into coming here.”

A small frown creased Luka’s brow. “I seem to remember agreeing to come of my own free will.”

Adrien shook his head. “Under false pretenses. I brought you here because I wanted to talk to you.”

Luka gave a snort. “Because it’s not like I would ever consent to that knowingly.”

Adrien pursed his lips.

Luka’s levity instantly faded. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

Adrien shook his head, training his gaze down into the murky water.

“…Is this about what happened yesterday?” Luka hazarded a guess.

“Kind of.”

Luka winced. “Adrien, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“—May I tell you something?” Adrien cut in, needing to get it over with.

“Uh…sure.” Luka couldn’t help but feel off-kilter as he struggled to follow what was happening.

“And could you maybe let me talk without responding until I’m done, please?” Adrien requested through a grimace. “I’m sorry. I just…I need to get this out, and I’m not sure I can do it if you interrupt me, so… Sorry.”

Luka gently rested his hand on Adrien’s shoulder, giving it an encouraging squeeze. “Hey. You can tell me anything, okay? I promise I’ll let you finish.”

Adrien shot Luka a grateful smile before taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. He tightened and loosened his grip on the bridge railing, swallowed, and then began.

“You know how I’ve been acting even crazier than usually these past two weeks?”

Luka frowned reprovingly. “Okay, I’m not going to stand here silently and listen to you talk down about yourself, so—”

“—I saw you kissing Xavier-Yves,” Adrien blurted out, needing to continue before he lost the courage to do so. “and it completely crushed me because I’m in love with you.”

Luka stared, blinked, and finally found his tongue. “You…what?”

“I’m in love with you,” Adrien repeated more slowly as the most vulnerable smile spread over his lips in complete surrender. “I’ve had a crush on you pretty much as long as we’ve known one another, but, recently, I’ve realized that, somewhere along the way, I really, truly fell in love with you. I’m not sure when exactly…but…here we are.”

Adrien shrugged and then awaited Luka’s response.

It took a minute, but Luka finally pieced together the words. “You’re sure?”

Adrien’s head cocked slightly to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Sorry.” Luka shook his head, mentally kicking himself. “I just mean… Not that I don’t believe you, but…”

He took a slow inhale and tried again. “Adrien, I don’t need to tell you that you’ve been through a lot this past month, and I know I’ve kind of been there supporting you through this. A lot of times, in that kind of situation, people can start thinking they have feelings for the person taking care of them, and I don’t—”

“—Luka.” Adrien reached out to cup Luka’s cheek. “My feelings for you aren’t new. You triggered my sexuality crisis, after all.”

Heat burned in Luka’s cheeks, and he gulped. “O-Oh?”

Adrien nodded, his smile returning. “Yeah. I’ve always known I had a crush on you. It’s just that I recently realized that my feelings weren’t just a crush. I don’t think they have been for a while, so you don’t have anything to worry about. I’m not going to improve mentally or emotionally and suddenly realize my feelings for you were fake or anything like that.”

“Oh,” Luka repeated quietly, gaze getting caught on Adrien’s eyes and the way their glittering green was perfectly set off by the trees and the water and the sky.

“So…I love you…Middle C,” Adrien whispered, angling his body to face Luka.

Instinctively, Luka stepped in, his hands going to Adrien’s hips. “I love you too, Perfect Fifth. From the moment I saw your eyes light up when you spotted that keyboard the day we first met.”

“Luka,” Adrien breathed as their eyes slipped closed and their noses gently bumped.

A shred of his higher brain function remained as he cautioned, “I don’t know if I should be doing this. I still need to talk to you about—”

“—Please,” Luka pleaded. “Adrien, please kiss me.”

He did, and it was sweet and slow and perfect, a gentle nibbling of Adrien’s lips against Luka’s.

Luka kept his eyes closed for a moment after Adrien pulled away, and when he opened them, he found Adrien searching his face apprehensively.

Luka blinked. “Everything okay?”

“Perfect,” Adrien sighed. “Only, now, I’m going to ruin everything.”

“I promise you that there’s nothing you could do to ruin that kiss,” Luka scoffed lightly.

Adrien winced. “What if I tell you we can’t kiss again for a long time?”

“Well, that wouldn’t ruin everything,” Luka assured. “But can I ask why?”

Adrien pulled back, looking out at the pond and the columns again as he explained, “I don’t want to keep you in limbo. I need to be completely honest with you: I can’t date right now.”

Luka stepped in closer so that his shoulder brushed Adrien’s.

Adrien tentatively peeked up at Luka. “I’m sorry. You know about as well as I do that I’m not in good shape at the moment with everything going on. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us to try to start anything right now.”

Luka gradually began to nod. “I think that’s a really mature decision. I don’t necessarily like it, but I’m really proud of you for being able to come to that kind of conclusion.”

Adrien sighed, a melancholy smile hovering on his lips. “I’m serious about you, you know. I don’t want to mess this up, so…I think I need to wait until I’m healthier. I don’t want things to always be the way they’ve been the past month.”

He met Luka’s eyes as he elaborated, “I can’t express how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but healthy relationships are partnerships. I need to be able to pull my own weight.”

Luka opened his mouth to respond, but Adrien shook his head, insisting, “I can’t always be needing you to help and comfort me. That’s not right, and it’s not fair to you.”

Luka’s eyes widened.

“You deserve a partner who can be there to support you too,” Adrien stressed. “I think I could be that person someday, but right now…”

He shook his head sadly.

“I can wait however long you think is necessary,” Luka assured.

Adrien shook his head again. “I’m not asking you to. If you want…I mean…Xavier-Yves is actually a great guy, and you like him, Luka. You shouldn’t have to wait around while I get my stuff together.”

Luka rolled his eyes. “Okay, yes. I will admit that Xavier-Yves is an attractive prospect, but…Adrien…my heart chose you.”

Adrien’s mouth fell open in surprise.

Luka leaned in and pressed a kiss to Adrien’s temple. “I’ll wait for you.”

Still taken aback, Adrien stammered, “I’ll do my best to be worthy of you.”

Luka pulled Adrien into a side hug. “You already are, P5.”

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authoressofdarkness · 4 years ago

Text

Guide Me Safely To Shore (Chapter 4)

And then he’d apparently crashed through the side of Stark tower. Because this was the safe spot now, apparently, though he hadn’t consciously decided that. He hadn’t consciously decided anything, really. Instinct and subconscious had completely taken over. And apparently, they were still in control, because how the fuck else would he have ended up pulling Tony Stark into bed with him? Or begging him to stay?

Notes: Yeah, I’m still a dumb bitch who keeps forgetting to update here, so here is the link to this story on AO3, if you’re tired of waiting on me. Mind the warnings/rating, though.

Tony is so used to the way he wakes up screaming that he automatically assumes it’s him. So it takes a minute to process the facts; that yes, his heart is pounding; yes, he feels adrenaline, the familiar fight or flight reflex, coursing through him, but the pain, the memory of the nightmare, isn’t there. Just a warm body pressed up against him and breathing fast and-

Shit. It’s Peter.

He barely has a moment to register the fact that Peter is actually pressed up against him, that they’ve apparently gotten much closer through the night and that he frankly can’t believe the pressure of Peter’s body against his hadn’t fed into his own night terrors or caused him to wake up at all. But then Peter gasps and jerks in his arms again and he refocuses on the problem at hand quickly.

He lets go of the omega when he jerks, realizing his eyes are open, pupils blown wide with fear — an effect of the dream more than seeing him, he hopes.

For a moment, they’re frozen, just staring at each other. Tony feels the nearly overwhelming urge to reach for him, but he doesn’t, not wanting to scare him even more.

Finally, Peter refocuses a little, eyes flickering around the room again. “Where- where am I? What did you do to me?”

He makes sure to keep his voice soft and steady, not wanting to start him more. “Nothing, Peter. Do you remember crashing in through the side of the tower?”

His eyes go even wider for a moment. “I- oh my God. I didn’t mean to, I-“

He holds up a hand. “It’s alright. It’s already fixed. But you crashed in and passed out right around the time I got to you. I just took care of your injuries and cleaned you up as best I could.”

Peter just stares at him. His eyes are almost comically wide as he seems to try to put all of the details together. He looks around the darkness of the room again, then glances down at himself. “So… now we’re in your room?” he asks, tentatively.

“No. We’re in yours.” Another confused look, so he elaborates. “I started setting up a room for you after… the other day. I intended to put you to bed tonight and let you rest, but you wouldn’t let me go.” He lifts up his hand, showing him the ring of bruises around his wrist and pillow marks from where Peter had clung to it and subsequently had been laying on it for hours.

Peter flushes after a moment. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” he murmurs, unable to meet his eyes.

“Hey.” They’d talked this long without him running or freaking out, so he takes a chance, reaching out to tilt his chin up. “Don’t be. We should just… get some more rest. I’ll leave you be, if you want.” He moves to sit up.

“No!” Peter’s body slams up against his chest, surprising him. “I mean… stay,” he mumbles, voice muffled by Tony’s shirt. “Please. I just… it hurts, Mr. Stark. I… I need you to stay.”

Tony wraps his arms around him, gently but firmly, pulling him tight against him. “Then I’m not going anywhere.” It’s a relief, frankly, to be given permission not to, because Tony feels the exact same way. He hadn’t realized precisely how much their separation was hurting him until the seemingly massive hole in his chest felt filled waking up next to him.

Peter just nods against his chest, arms tight around his back. The weight of the smaller boy is comforting, nice and warm and solid against him. Any worries he has of hurting him just seem to melt away with him so comfortably wrapped around him like this. How could he possibly have a nightmare with this sweet thing holding him tight?

How could he possibly stay awake, seems like the better question. Within a few minutes, he’s out like a light again.

~~~

Peter doesn’t last long, either.

He doesn’t know what possessed him, honestly. He doesn’t remember consciously deciding to come to the tower. He barely remembers patrolling, just the getting hurt and the sensation of panic, Spidey sense telling him if he didn’t get out of that situation right now something horrible was going to happen and that he needed to get somewhere safe , and then-

And then he’d apparently crashed through the side of Stark tower. Because this was the safe spot now, apparently, though he hadn’t consciously decided that.

He hadn’t consciously decided anything, really. Instinct and subconscious had completely taken over.

And apparently, they were still in control, because how the fuck else would he have ended up pulling Tony Stark into bed with him? Or begging him to stay?

When he woke up screaming, the response had originally been at the visions of the nightmare, the green and orange still flashing behind his eyes. But the terror lingered when he realized that there was another villain entirely laying right beside him.

But then the initial panic faded, and his own body returned to betraying him. Panic and relief somehow flood him simultaneously when Stark says he’ll leave, and he opens his mouth to agree, though that’s not what comes out, and curse this fucking bond . Like the pain and physical illness that have tormented him this week haven’t been enough.

And yet there’s none of that now that Stark is pressed up beside him. In fact, he falls back asleep easier and rests better than he has in… years. Since Ben’s death, at least. Saying this week is hardly sufficient, considering he barely slept at all, and the trend of horrible sleep has been happening forever, now.

Surprisingly, though they sleep straight into the morning after that, Peter wakes up first.

For a long moment, before reality comes rushing back, it almost feels… good. One of Stark’s arms is securely wrapped around him, keeping him close, and Peter has nestled into his bare chest in his sleep. He’s warm and solid and his scent is just so nice up close like this. Relaxed and protective and strong and just pure alpha -

And shit. Peter's eyes flutter open and he moves to stretch automatically before realizing his legs are wrapped tightly around one of Stark's, hips pressed right up against him. He can feel Stark’s morning wood pressing against his stomach, almost terrifyingly large, and firm against him in a way he can’t ignore. And apparently, his body can’t, either, because when he shifts again, he can feel that he’s not entirely unaffected either. Between the effect of the bond and their time apart, and the fact that his body knows this is his soulmate, that he’s warm and comfortable and safe, even if his mind isn’t quite convinced of it… well, maybe it was only to be expected, but he is soaked. And scent aside, if the dampness he can feel on his thighs is any indication, there won’t be any hiding it when Stark wakes up. It isn’t exactly being contained.

Peter swallows thickly and lets out a shuddering breath. Fuck. What is he supposed to do now? Lay here, pretend to be asleep, and see what happens? Or does he risk trying to move and clean up before Stark wakes up, and maybe wake him sooner in the process?

Too late. He should have realized Stark would be a light sleeper. His squirming around had caused Stark to start to as well, and he must feel the same thing as Peter, because he hears his breath catch as the movement stops abruptly.

It’s silent for a moment, and Peter just hides his face in his chest, unsure what else to do. Then, after a moment, Stark’s voice: “Peter?”

Cheeks flaming, but knowing he’s been caught, Peter tilts his head just enough to peer up at him. “Uh…”

Stark’s face is only inches above his, close enough his warm breath causes the curls on Peter’s forehead to flutter. He can smell it, too, though even his morning breath isn’t that bad — and it’s completely overpowered by his scent, anyway, as it continues to grow stronger, arousal and curiosity and something that might even be nerves and resignation mixed in. To his horror, Peter’s seems to grow stronger in response as well — fear and arousal and growing emotions of curiosity and desire all in turmoil.

Again, the silence stretches for a long minute as they seem to search each other’s faces — Peter almost desperately, and Stark seeming to be calculated but undeniably curious.

Finally it’s Stark who breaks the silence. “I’m… I’ll leave,” he says shortly, looking away as he starts to sit up a little.

The words spark panic deep in his chest again, though he tries not to show it. Yeah, he’s terrified, that much is undeniable. But he doesn’t want to go back to feeling the way he did the week they were apart. He could barely function. And it’s going to be worse now that he’s been so close to him, he’s sure of it.

“You’re going to leave me like this?” The words come out quietly, tentative and scared, but he forces himself to speak all the same. “Is that my punishment for leaving?” Why does he sound so small? Why does he shrink in fear even talking to him out of the suit but still feel so safe laying beside him?

The nerves that feel like they’re gripping his chest are all the worse for the fact that he isn’t that far off from what could be true. He knows enough to know that the moment their marks changed color that he became Stark’s. Not even the law could come between them, and Stark is the law, now, so even more so than anyone else, he’s completely at his mercy. He could do whatever he wanted to him and no one would care. Even if someone did, they couldn’t do anything.

And, yeah, the fact was, scared or not, he’d been an asshole the last time they met. Their fight and everything that occurred before they knew they were soulmates could be excused. But after… Stark is well within his legal rights to punish him. Even if there was someone to enforce them on him, they wouldn’t stop him.

Stark stops, letting out a little breath and looking down at him. Confusion is the prominent emotion in his scent, now, though the arousal is still undeniable. “No. I hadn’t intended to punish you for leaving. I’m sure the bond did enough of that,” he says gently. “I just meant… I won’t stay, if you don’t want me to. I’m not going to force you into anything just because our bodies respond naturally to each other.”

“Why not?” Now Peter is confused. And yeah, it’s a dangerous question, but he just doesn’t understand. Tony Stark is supposed to be a monster. This behavior, none of it, none of their encounters besides the first, add up to what he’d expected and been so afraid of. “I mean… you own me now, don’t you? You could do whatever you want.”

“I can do whatever I want. That doesn’t mean I have to. And it’s all the more reason I don’t need to rush it,” Stark answers. He sits up completely, running his hands through his hair, but doesn’t move to get out of the bed. Peter doesn’t move, letting his arms and legs fall away but staying there flat beside him. “And believe it or not, I don’t take pleasure in forcing anyone to do anything. Especially things that should be pleasurable for you.” He shakes his head. “Why does it matter? Do you want me to punish you?”

“No- I mean, I don’t know, I just expected it, I guess.” Peter looks away. “You have good reason to. Past aside, I haven’t been… good this past week.”

He sighs. “I let you walk away, Peter. I told you, I’ve no desire to keep you here against your will.” He pauses, glancing back down at him. “Why did you come back? Last night? And why didn’t you just come in the open balcony door, for God’s sake?”

Peter blushes again. He has no recollection of an open balcony door — or anything else, really. “I… I don’t really know. I was scared and kinda on autopilot. It just… happened. I didn’t even really realize it until this morning.”

“That’s the bond at work, then.” Stark gnaws on his bottom lip, eyes far away for a moment, and then refocuses. “You were scared and hurt. What happened?”

Peter swallows hard. He doesn’t like to talk about what he does as Spider-Man, and telling Tony Stark of all people… this morning really can’t get much crazier, can it? “I… do I have to tell you, sir?” he whispers, tentatively, avoiding his eyes.

Stark draws in a little breath. “No. Not right now, at least.” He tilts his head, looking down at him. “Look, I just… do you want me to leave you alone? I can let you get cleaned up and make breakfast and we can pretend this didn’t happen, at least the… messy part. I really just want to talk without you running away, Peter. Everything else is up to you right now.”

The right now doesn’t slip his notice, but for the first time, his stomach flips with something like excitement as the possessive words, instead of immediate fear. There’s a little of that, too, but not quite as intense as before. And it does make him feel better, a little bit, but…

He’s just never been so wet like this before. He can’t fathom being left like this. It aches for fuck’s sake, in a way he can’t even begin to place or imagine having to deal with for however long it takes.

He swallows again, audibly, throat clicking as he looks up at Stark, who’s still watching him intently, waiting for an answer. “I… we can talk, I promise, I just… I’m really wet, Mr. Stark,” he whispers, tentatively, face flushing red again.

The alpha’s pupils flare at the words, but he doesn’t immediately say anything, to his credit. “I can take care of that, Peter, if that’s what you really want. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to. No punishment here, one way or the other.”

“Even though I deserve it?” He bites his lip.

He tilts his head a little. “Yes… unless you really want me to punish you.”

Peter looks away. “I don’t want you to be mad at me later,” he murmurs, unable to meet his eyes. He’s well aware of exactly how much trouble he’s caused. And getting it out of his head is going to happen… probably never. “I know I deserve it. I’ve done a lot of things. You have a lot of reason to be mad.”

Stark considers him. “I’m not mad. You do have a long list of discrepancies, though, I will admit, and I would like to discourage you from doing anything like that again… but, for right now, let’s shelve it, yeah? If me punishing you would make you feel better, then we can talk about it, after. Over breakfast. Yeah?”

Peter just nods. He can’t pretend he’s not still scared of it, of him, but he’s kept his word thus far, so he agrees. “Yes, sir.”

“Don’t do that right now. Come on. You’re my soulmate. You can call me by my name.” He reaches out, tilting Peter’s head up towards him when he shakes his head, years of instincts telling him not to. “You can do it. Say my name, Peter .”

The way he says his name sends a tingle down Peter’s spine and tickles his wrist. He shivers and bites his lip nervously. “Tony…”

The alpha smiles a little. “Good boy, Peter. What am I?”

“Alpha…” Just saying it makes him relax a little. This is his alpha. His body knows that, if nothing else.

“Good boy. Now tell alpha what you want.” Those eyes, so bright and unnaturally blue, flash, pinning him to the bed with a look that makes his breath falter a moment.

“Alpha… want you to… um…” He stops, squirming and biting his lip. “Want you to help me. Please.”

“So polite,” the alpha cooes gently, smiling a little and running a hand down his chest. “Help you what, omega?”

Peter shivers again, at the touch and at the sound, the way Stark- Tony pronounces the word, like his tongue is stroking it, almost obscenely. The thought makes his face flush bright red. It only reminds him of his needs, and he can’t bring himself to say it. “Alpha, please… I… it’s dirty… you know…”

“I do know, Peter, but I want to hear you say it. Ask me for it, omega. Tell me what you want. There’s no shame in asking alpha to fulfill your needs.” He waits, looking down at him.

Peter gulps. Unable to look at him, he grabs the pillow Tony had slept on, hugging it to his chest and breathing in the lingering calm scent to steady himself and let him hide his face. Then he blurts, as quietly as possible, “Please, need you to touch my pussy, alpha.”

He hears Tony purr in response. “Good omega, telling alpha what you need. Touch your pussy, hm? Like this?” He feels the hand slide under the over large shirt he’s wearing, calloused and warm as it presses against the soaked material of his panties, cupping him. “Is this what you want?”

“No, sir, please…” Peter whines into the pillow. Of course an alpha like Tony Stark would want to tease, want the control and to make him tell him everything when he’s undoubtedly smart enough to figure it out.

“Please, what, then, omega?” Tony’s eyes are on him, he can feel it, but he doesn’t look at him, even as the fingers stroke over the wet material, tracing the line of his slit, and his hips squirm in response. “You want me to take them off? You asked for touch, not skin on skin. You want alpha to finger you, is that it?”

Peter whines again. He doesn’t want to say no and risk Tony stopping, but that’s not what he really wants. “I- if you want, but I…”

“Yes…?” he prompts. “What do you want, Peter? Tell your alpha. If it’s not my fingers…”

“Don’ wanna say it…” Peter whines, hiding his face in the pillow. He hates to admit that this whole thing is making him so much wetter, even if it’s frustrating.

“That’s okay. I’ll just sit here and play with this while I wait, hm?” He feels two fingers pinch his little clit through the panties, rolling it between them.

“Ah!” Peter’s back tries to arch off the bed, but the other hand is there, just above his hips and splayed across his stomach, stopping him. “Oh sir, please, ugh- I just- just want your tongue!”

It stops, and the hands lift away. “Oh, my tongue touching you? You could’ve just said so, sweetheart.” Something warm and soft pressed against his thigh — a kiss. Then hands are at his hips, peeling the panties down and off, and a moment later, on the inside of his sticky thighs, pushing them open. Peter bends his legs automatically, but doesn’t look up.

He feels the bed shifting as Tony gets in position, and his breath hitches, but he still doesn’t lift his face from the pillow. His hips twitch a little as the first warm breath of air touches his inner thigh, and he holds his breath, but then — nothing.

Tony’s voice a moment later explains why. “Peter. If I wanted to not see those pretty eyes, I’d have blindfolded you. Can you look at me?”

Peter jolts at the words, the idea of being blindfolded apparently going straight to his core if the rush of slick is any indication. He doesn’t really have much access to porn, as it’s considered distasteful for omegas, though all of them have to touch themselves occasionally, if they don’t have an alpha by the time they start their heats. Still, of course he’s had fantasies, and he’s heard of it, though he hasn’t expected it to be such a turn on right now. They always scared him more than anything.

Still, he lifts his face from the pillow, nervously biting his lip as he looks down at him. Tony’s eyes are a deep blue, dark with arousal, face just inches from where he wants him most.

Holding eye contact, Tony kisses the inside of his thigh, making him shiver. He smirks. “Is this what you want? You want my tongue in your little pussy?”

Peter’s breath hitches. “Yes, alpha, please ,” he breathes.

Tony flashes a dangerous grin, and then he’s leaning down, and oh , fuck- conscious thought goes immediately out the window. The way the alpha’s tongue feels, touching him there , and he’s all wet and so sensitive, and fuck. It’s so different from touching himself with his fingers to get through his heat.

Tony’s tongue is wet, in a different way from his slick, and the way it feels, is just so different from the press of a finger; it’s firm but soft, longer than his own fingers but not Tony’s, from what he’s seen, and God suddenly he can’t wait to find out how those feel, thick but flexible and wet but warm and oh fuck the way it just felt on his clit-

“Alpha!” Peter keens, unable to help himself. The words are torn between a moan and a sob. It’s just too overwhelming for him. Of course he’s had an orgasm before, but it’s never come close to feeling like this, and he’s not even cumming yet. His legs shake around the alpha’s head as his hips start to squirm instinctively from the intensity. “Please, alpha, please !”

All he gets in response is a growl that goes straight through him, and then hands wrapping around his hips, pinning him in place. He can’t help the moan that tears out of him again at the realization that he can’t move now and the feeling as the warm tongue keeps moving, teasing him for what seems like ever and lapping up all of his slick before going up and up and just attacking his little bud relentlessly. He barely tolerates a minute of it before he’s cumming, crying out loudly, hopelessly overstimulated with tears streaming down his face.

He must dissociate for a minute, drifting in the pleasure, because when he comes back to, Tony is sitting beside him, gently wiping him down with a warm washcloth; first his face, then between his legs and down them, touch so light so not to hurt where he’s still sensitive. He’s shushing him gently, too, murmuring something, but his hearing hasn’t come completely back online yet for him to understand. It takes a moment for it to, but he slowly tunes in to what the alpha is saying.

“-alright, yes, see, all clean now… nice and clean… breathe for me, Peter, and calm down some, hm?” He seems to realize suddenly that Peter’s eyes have refocused and he’s actually listening, and he stops. “There you are. Are you alright? You dropped off there after you came.”

Peter blushes a little. “Yeah, I, uh… overstimulation. It happens a lot.”

“Does it, now?” Tony sounds bemused, like he’s trying not to laugh at him.

Peter blushes deeper. “Not- like that. I just… my senses are dialed high all the time. If I get too much sensory input of any kind I can just kinda… power down for a minute or two.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Interesting. I didn’t know that,” he says, sounding actually surprised.

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me yet,” he murmurs, cheeks still red as he moves to get up.

“I guess so,” Tony agrees. He stands up behind him. “Would you like to go get some food?”

Peter glances back at him, then looks around the room, humming a little. The mention of food has his stomach growling. He hasn’t eaten in hours, which means his stomach is… severely unhappy with him. Even if it wasn’t, he’d probably have to agree. They can’t avoid talking forever, especially after… that.

“Uh… yeah. Food would be nice. I just… can I get some pants, first?”

Tony blinks, like he hadn’t considered it. “Oh yeah. There’s some clothes in the dressers that will fit you. Go ahead and get in something comfy. I’ll just... wait outside.” He walks to the door, stepping out and closing it behind him with only a cursory look back.

Peter moves slowly to the nearest dresser, gnawing on his bottom lip. This room is larger and so much more grandiose and furnished than he’s used to, so it takes him a minute to find what he needs. In the end, he manages to find some clean underwear and a pair of pants. He keeps the alpha’s shirt on. He’s not cold enough to want something heavier and it smells good.

When he’s done, he stands there for a minute, soaking it in — and psyching himself up, to an extent. There’s no going back, now, but he can still be nervous, right? He doesn’t know whether it’s really reasonable or not, now, but he still is.

Oh well. It’s only going to get worse if he doesn’t face it. And the idea of leaving again now is too painful to even consider.

With these thoughts in mind, he makes his way to the door. Slowly, so slowly, bracing himself for the deep dive, he opens the door.

“Alright. I’m ready.”

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danger-xylophones · 4 years ago

Text

Family Reunion Part 7. The Child

{Masterlist}

Notes: I screwed up the timeline of Star Wars because I didn’t think about it so, sorry.

Ps. I stan big-brother Therapist Opress

Warnings: Swearing, reader is a panicky mess for a little bit, some suggestive language

Words: 3246

Taglist: @and-claudia // @tararuthven // @ravenclawlegacy // @noiralei // @pinkiemme // @darthsmol

<- Previous

………………………………….

Forever

Forever indeed. It felt like Maul had been gone for forever. You hadn’t seen him in two months and they were some of the most excruciating months you’d ever lived through. What made it worse were the few and far between calls late at night that only made your aching for your unofficial husband grow. You were legitimately becoming concerned for as the time stretched on without contact, you began to feel sicker. Was it possible to get sick from missing someone? Is that what people meant when they described someone as ‘lovesick’?

“Y/n, are you sure you are alright?” Ki-Adi’s voice shook you to the core as you were forced to refocus on the fact that you were currently in the middle of a duel with him. Your master had lowered his saber, one hand held up to stop you from pressing your advantage while he questioned you.

“I’m fine, Master.” The reply was immediate and spoken without thought. You knew you were just being dramatic and that your life had to go on when Maul wasn’t around. You were to become a Jedi. He was a Sith Lord. Divergence from each other was what founded your relationship and when that manifested in not seeing each other for months, you had to learn to deal with it. The whole ‘feeling sick because my husband isn’t here to hold me’ thing was getting old fast.

Your husband....gods, those words didn’t seem real. Legally binding or not, the fact of the matter was that you had married Maul in total secrecy two months ago. You could remember the moment he claimed you as his wife so clearly that on the most lonely nights it seemed to become the only thing that was real and untainted by hypocrisy, hubris, and politics. The knowledge that you were the only one who would ever know the feel of Maul’s hands on your hips, or the gentle nudge of his nose against your own as he pressed his lips to yours, or even how solid he felt when buried in-

You internally shook your head. Yes, the knowledge that you were the only one that would ever know how any of that felt was...intoxicating. And you were selfish. Maul’s love was a drug and you were the only one that had access to it.

“Are you sure? You seem very distracted.” Ki-Adi continued, blocking the strike you levied at his side.

“I’m. Fine.” You seethed, frustrated at your mind for wandering and at your body for how poorly you were fighting.

Ki-Adi sheathed his saber and raised an eyebrow at you, hands finding a place clasped behind his back. He was disappointed. You sighed and sheathed your green saber as well, already preparing for the inevitable lecture. “I do not believe you, Y/n. You haven’t been acting like yourself since we returned from negotiations on Toydaria.” Ki-Adi stepped forward to grasp your shoulder, communicating his concern more clearly than his perpetually calm voice would allow. “Did something happen?”

You shifted on your feet, knowing you would have to lie. There was no way you could tell him that you were lovesick but you could explain the physical symptoms your predicament had manifested. “No, master, nothing happened. Just...I don’t know how to explain it.” You carded a hand through your hair briefly. “For the past few weeks, I haven’t felt...like myself?” You tried, looking into your master’s calm face.

Ki-Adi’s brows furrowed. There was no condemnation in his eyes, only curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...I can’t remember the last time I got a good night’s worth of rest. For some reason, certain smells have been bothering me lately, I’m so tired all the time-yesterday I passed out in the library and Madame Jocasta had to walk me to my room because I couldn’t walk more than a few steps without feeling nauseous.” You let out an angry huff directed at the strange reactions your body was having to the absence of Maul. “But, every time I’ve considered going to the healers to see what is going on, the symptoms vanish.”

Ki-Adi was quiet for a moment as he digested the revelation. “Do you know what might be causing these reactions?” He eventually asked, taking a seat in the middle of the mat you had been fighting on. You followed his lead, sticking your chin in one hand and propping your elbow on your bended knee while your free hand toyed with a rogue string on your robe. You shook your head, eyes boring into the ground. “Are you, perhaps, nervous for the Trials?”

You shook your head again, straightening up. “No, I mean...I am just a bit nervous but I know that these reactions aren’t originating from that. I was more nervous about making my second lightsaber and this never happened.” Your stomach gave an almighty lurch all of a sudden which caused you to clasp your hand over your mouth, the other shooting to your stomach. But, just as quickly as it had come upon you, the sensation vanished leaving you and your perplexed master. You groaned in frustration, almost wishing you would just vomit so that whatever was going on would cease. Ki-Adi sent you a sympathetic frown, helping you to your feet. “If I may forgo discretion, master?” He hummed to tell you it was alright. “I spoke with Luminara Unduli and she posited that it could just be an intense bout of pms. Which would make sense…” Because I’m late…Like,...two months late. And with that realization, a whole new plethora of issues became very likely possibilities. No, no...we...Maul and I aren’t even the same species. That can’t happen...or can it? Zabraks are classified as Near-human. In theory, we could...no, no.

“Hmm, this is troubling. May I suggest that you go to the healers, Padawan? Even if Master Unduli is correct, I think it would be wise to receive confirmation.” Ki-Adi, ever tranquil in his approach, thankfully rescued you from the spiraling panic now coiling in your chest. “Come, I will escort you there.”

…………………………………….

“Y/n?” Savage’s rumbling baritone voice pulled you back to reality and you suddenly realized that you had been zoned out for a very long time. When had you started deep cleaning the ship? Looking away from the floor of the cockpit you had started diligently scrubbing, you met the towering zabrak’s questioning gaze as he leaned against the doorway. “Are you alright? You’ve been cleaning incessantly since you woke up.”

Briefly letting your eyes flicker over the various cleaning supplies strewn around you, you shrugged, mouth feeling dry. “I...I guess.” With a little more focus, you returned to scrubbing, eager for some distraction. “I’ve just...been lost in thought, I guess.”

“I noticed.” Savage stated bluntly whilst crossing his arms. “I’m worried about you, sister.” You paused at his words, momentarily closing your eyes as you collected yourself. You could hear him approaching, long strides echoing around the small area as he neared until he crouched next to you and gently worked the rag out of your hands. “You have not been yourself for the past few days.” Your eyes snapped open and slid to the side to meet Savage’s gaze. His brow was worked into a frown and one of his large hands was hesitantly reaching out, as though he was unsure if he was allowed to console through touch.

Opting to let him in, you reached out and grabbed his hand. “I’m afraid seeing Maul in this state has...drained me. I just needed a reprieve and I guess shutting down was the way I went about achieving that.” As you spoke, you let your thumbs dig into his palm while you used him as an anchor. “And,” glancing around Savage to see into the makeshift sleeping area the three of you had set up, you took note of how Wild was still completely passed out which made it safe to make your confession, “and it isn’t helped by the lying on my end. I want to tell Wild the truth, but I’m terrified of how he’ll react. He’s lived his whole life believing his father to be dead. What will he do when he finds out that he’s not and that he was, in fact, a Sith Lord? I don’t want him to go into shock over it but how the hell am I supposed to adjust him to the idea organically?” You muttered more to yourself than to Savage who was still patiently crouched next to you, happily lending an ear.

Savage’s breathing was the only thing you could hear, low and steady like the breath of a mythical beast. It was soothing to hear something other than your own panicked thoughts. “I wish I knew how to help you, Y/n. I care for Wild and I care for you too. The three of you are the only kin I have left.” He sighed and finally took a seat beside you, still allowing you to toy with his hand.

“I hadn’t thought about that...how are you holding up?” You tried carefully, releasing Savage’s hand when he gently tugged it away from you.

“Not well, if I am to be completely honest. Though-I have the benefit of not remembering what Maul used to be like.” Savage’s voice dropped to barely above a whisper.

Not entirely sure where to go from here, you opted to voice the most pressing anxiety that plagued you without ceasing. “Do you really think Mother Talzin will be able to help him?”

“Help him? No. Bring back Darth Maul? Yes.”

……………………………………..

“Padawan L/n, these results are...most concerning.” The words falling from the Mirialan healer are...disconcerting which causes you to sit up, propping yourself on your elbows as you rise from the bed to watch her movements.

“Why?” You ask, sitting up a little further as your panic makes a resurgence. “What’s wrong? What do they say?” She didn’t reply nor did she turn to look at you as she raised a hand and flicked her fingers in unison to beckon you over. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and walked over to the screen that was displaying the results of the full-body scan she had run to pinpoint the epicenter of your troubles. The particular area of interest was a position that was decidedly not your stomach like you thought it would be. Oh no. “W-...what does that mean?” You asked, trembling. Your throat was swiftly closing up as you continued to stare at the red circle that blinked placidly above your uterus.

“Y/n, you know what it means. Coupling the scan with your other symptoms, I think the issue is impossible to deny or misinterpret.” The Mirialan was bristling as she spoke, the sympathy draining from her voice with every word till it was sucked dry of any humanity. “I must inform the council immediately.”

Inform the...shit. Whirling around faster than you thought humanly possible and leaping over the bed, you practically tackled the healer to keep her from leaving the room. “Dariada, listen to me. I don’t know how this happened.” You attempted to explain, hands grasping her left forearm in a vice.

She made a noise of utter indignation that echoed in your head. “You don’t-how could you not know?! You slept with a man, Padawan L/n, that’s how this happened. You broke the code! They’ll expel you from the order for this!” She was livid.

“They could if I had broken the code! But I didn’t! I didn’t sleep with anyone!” Liar. Liar. This baby’s mother is a liar. Maul, fuck, where are you? One hand shot to your front, gently laying over where your womb was. “There was no one. I swear.”

“That doesn’t happen, Y/n. You had to have slept with someone.” Dariada shot back, hood dangerously close to flying off. Her vibrant green skin was a shade darker from the blood rushing to it in her anger. You had never liked Dariada, she was always far too self-righteous, but you liked her even less now. With what could only be described as a snarl, she wrenched her arm free and grabbed both of your wrists in an iron grip, already marching her way out of the hall and dragging you along with her. She held true to her word and informed the council of the...situation.

Soon you were standing in the middle of the council members, begging for them to believe you that there had been no one. The lie felt like poison on your tongue, it seeped into your own system just as it flew at the council members. Plo Koon was the first to believe you. “I can sense much fear in you, padawan. Why?” The Kel Dor had asked amidst your muffled sobs. There was no hint of condemnation in his modulated voice, but, instead, compassion and empathy.

“With all due respect, Master Plo, I just found out that I’m pregnant and I can’t even explain how it happened. I am not ashamed to admit I am terrified of what is to become of my baby.” You turned towards him, hiccuping and blubbering throughout your confession.

“Only your baby?” Plo Koon asked, raising the ridge where his eyebrow would be. You were painfully aware of the gazes of each individual master on you. Ki-Adi’s was the heaviest of them all.

With a swallow, you attempted to calm your nerves. Maul could help you. Maul would help you. You just had to get in touch with him. But what would his master do to him, to your baby? The tears began anew. “Only my baby. I can be expelled from the order and find a way to survive but what of them?” No answer was needed for your question. The implications were clear.

“Padawan, approach.” Master Yoda’s voice called to you as he beckoned you closer with his three-fingered hand. His expression was unreadable. You did as he commanded and the old master closed his eyes and held his hand out in front of him when you were little more than a foot away from him. “A child of the Force, the babe is. Clouded is their future.” The grandmaster sighed heavily, letting his head and hand fall in time. “Expel her, we cannot. Powerful will the child be. We must not let either of them fall to the dark side.” Murmurs fell from the masters, sneaking past you as they slipped from loose lips.

“But is she telling the truth, Master Yoda?” Master Tinn was the one to voice the question on all of their minds.

“She has to be, Master Tinn.” It was Ki-Adi who spoke in your defense. “Dariada said that she was approaching nine weeks, in that time, the only instances where Y/n has left my sight was when she was in the temple. Y/n is predisposed to the light side and has never broken the code before, to assume that she would to this extent is unwise and unfair to my padawan.” You sent Ki-Adi a grateful smile as he rose from his chair and approached to stand beside you in front of his fellow masters.

“What are you suggesting we do then, Master Mundi?” Mace Windu asked from your right.

“Put Y/n’s training on hold and postpone the trials. We will keep her in the temple to watch over her and when the baby comes, I think it would be wise to look into training them.” Ki-Adi offered swiftly to muttered agreements.

With a tap of his staff, Yoda called the room to him. “A wise decision that is, Master Mundi. Watch her closely, you must. Now,” He focused on you, eyes penetrating your defenses till his gaze seared into you, “fetch Master Qui-Gon Jinn, young padawan, know something of this occurrence, he might.” You dipped your head to bid the council farewell before skirting away from them. As you fled the meeting area, one thought remained. Where are you, Maul?

…………………………………………………

Maul was being a nuisance. You had gone into the cargo hold in search of more ration bars and thought that he had still been asleep. You were correct, he was still in the same place you had left him last night. Or he had been until Savage came stomping in after you and woke him up. Now, he was acting like a feral tooka; hissing and spitting at Savage while you, once again, trapped behind him. Savage had backed off with his hands up to show surrender but Maul hadn’t relented and you were rather fed up with it. “Savage, go get me a damp cloth, I’ll try to calm him down.” You ordered whilst nodding your head to Maul. Savage was eager to help calm his brother and so, swiftly backed out.

Meanwhile, you worked to soothe Maul once more, delicately coaxing him to lay down with his torso across your lap. Gentle purrs rumbled in his chest while you worked your hand into the perpetually tense muscles in his back. Savage entered once more, quietly this time, and handed the cloth he had gotten to you. You used the rag to dab at the junctures of Maul’s body. You hoped the motion would be soothing. His fever had broken sometime during the night but you were still trying to ensure he was kept comfortable for the remainder of the journey.

Before the silence could persist for much longer, Savage broke it as he leaned on some stacked crates across from you. “Did Wild mention the tattoos to you?”

Looking away from Maul and to the door to the hold, you made sure the three of you were alone. “Yes, he told me he had been talking to you about Dathomir and the Nightbrothers.” You brought your gaze back to Savage who seemed a little hesitant to continue talking.

“Did...did he tell you why?” You shook your head. Savage sighed heavily and slid down to be seated. “I’m afraid Wild suspects we are hiding something from him.”

“I knew he’d start to.” You muttered under your breath, subconsciously gripping the cloth tighter. “Did he say anything?”

Savage shook his head, “No, but he was asking a lot of questions regarding Maul. I answered as many as I could.”

“Wild’s always been perceptive, I knew we couldn’t hide this forever. But, did he tell you why he wanted more? He told me you had offered to help him.”

The yellow zabrak groaned, pulling one knee up to use as an armrest as he averted his gaze to Maul who had taken to playing with your free hand. “All he said was that he could feel something coming, something monumental.”

Your brows furrowed. That was...news. Why hadn’t he talked to you about this? Probably because you’ve been keeping secrets from him, you lying piece of-

The door suddenly slid open to reveal the boy of the hour. His...cold saffron eyes zeroed in on Maul before flicking away to Savage and then yourself. His face was stiff. “We’re approaching Dathomir, I took the liberty of starting landing procedures.” His voice was clipped and serious, more than it normally was. With one last glare at Maul, he turned and stalked towards the cockpit.

<- Previous | Next ->

#darth maul #clone wars #tcw #star wars

130 notes · View notes

sephirothisaslut · 4 years ago

Text

Imaginary Friend

Sephiroth was never a normal child.

In fact, you could say he never was a child.

He was never allowed to be a child.

Hojo made him to be the perfect son. The perfect puppet. The perfect soldier. The perfect General. Ever flawless, never faltering.

So it came as a surprise when he’s developed an imaginary friend. To say Hojo was perplexed was an understatement. He was livid. Sephiroth had not been exposed to any form of fictional works, nor the concept of an imaginary friend (or what a friend even is).

The mad scientist purged his employees. All nurses, doctors, assistants, and even janitorial and guard staff were interrogated. It wont do for a God to have something as childish as an imaginary friend. He fired those that have shown any unnecessary kindness to Sephiroth, and ‘fired’ those that have records of actively trying to treat him like a normal child. (As if a God would need to be treated like a lowly common child)

It all started with a question.

“Doctor, is he the new guard?” Sephiroth asked from behind Hojo.

Hojo had vaguely remember asking for additional security. With Lucrecia’s previous fling nearly killing him, and Gast’s near successful defection, he thought it was necessary. However when he turned to look, he could see no one.

“Boy, are you trying to purposefully fool me?” Hojo said with malignant eyes. His icy tone alone made Sephiroth writhe in panic.

Sephiroth started to hyperventilate. What had he done wrong? Was he not supposed to ask questions? He wasn’t trying to fool Hojo. Then why.

Hojo slowly approached. A large glowing syringe in one hand. The other, tightening the bands holding Sephiroth down on the cold, steel table.

“Do not” Hojo stabbed the syringe into Sephiroth, purposefully hurting the boy, “do that” he began injecting the liquid, making Sephiroth thrash in pain “ever again”

Sephiroth started screaming. Whatever the good doctor had done to him hurt. Everything Hojo did to him always hurt. But this hurt much more so. His limbs tries to thrash, but the straps that held him were built for not so human patients. Every cell in his body cried and called out. He could feel tears starting to form. He tried clenching his eyes shut, preventing the tears from fully forming (preventing him from showing weakness). But it wasn't long until a second, more powerful wave of pain and hurt consumed him.

Sephiroth’s eyes darted around. trying to anchor himself on consciousness. He looked around, once more spotting the man. For some reason Hojo can’t see him. He tried focusing in the man. Trying to distract himself from the burning sensation coming from his blood.

Then he blacked out.

The next time he woke up, he was back in his room. Sephiroth knew ‘cell’ was more accurate than ‘room’. One of the former caretakers he had when he was younger described their child’s room. It all sounded unnecessary. The frilly curtains, and bright colors. The toys that serve no purpose but to entertain. It all seemed useless. It all sounded foreign. it all sounded incredible.

He wanted to be normal. He wanted to be unnecessary. He wanted to just be. But Hojo told him not to.

He sat up, breaking away from his dark thoughts. Then he noticed the same man in the corner of his room. Just leaning casually, hands crossed, observing Sephiroth.

Sephiroth is smart. He knew that the reason today’s test had hurt so much was because he mentioned the man to Hojo. And for some reason, Hojo cant see the man. He also knew that his room is bugged. A camera in the corner. Constantly watching Sephiroth. Collecting data of his behavior to be studied like a corpse laid out for dissection. So he opted to go to the desk, and pretended to take notes on a Tactics book. Making his movements obvious. Leaning to one side to clearly show what he’s writing to the man, but hiding it from the camera.

‘Why can’t Hojo see you?’ He writes. His plan wasn’t well thought. Sure, the camera’s can’t see what he’s doing, but it doesn't guarantee the man will read what he’s writing.

“Because I’m not really here”

Sephiroth blinked, stunned. It worked.

‘What do you mean?’

“My physical body...It’s not really here”

‘Where is it?’

“I don’t know”

This man is an enigma. He can hear the man behind him. If the man can be seen by the cameras, then guards would have swarmed in to apprehend him already.

‘What are you’ Sephiroth scrawls. Is he the ‘ghosts’ that he’s heard some of the technicians talk about?

“I’m no one”

Sephiroth huffs. He’s even more curious now. ‘You’re not no one. I can see you’

“How sure are you? I’m sure you’ve noticed, you’re the only one that can see me”

Sephiroth pauses. He’s read about hallucinations before. But they only occur in times of extreme stress. And the first time he’s seen the man, it was before the testing not during. And right now, he’s in a space he feels most comfortable in. He shakes his head, resolving to drop the subject.

‘What’s your name?’

“Cloud...Call me Cloud” The man, Cloud, decides. He moves to lean beside Sephiroth’s desk, putting himself in clear view of the child.

Sephiroth discreetly looked up at the man. Cloud’s most notable appearance is his ridiculous blond hair. Spiking around as if defying gravity. That was before Sephiroth noticed his eyes, It was blue, glowing, and it was slited.

Just like me

“Kid, it’s rude to stare” Cloud snorted.

‘Sorry’

“You should rest. I saw what Hojo did. And he’s preparing a new batch tomorrow” Cloud gently instructed the child.

Sephiroth, finally realizing his own fatigue, nodded. And promptly carried himself to bed. He can figure the man out another time.

The next day, Sephiroth woke to the man sitting at his bedside. Looking down as if lost in thought. Sephiroth only nudged his foot discreetly to tell the man to move out of the way.

“Oh you’re awake” Cloud moved out of the way.

Sephiroth sat up, and checked the clock. 5:00 am, it read. He had enough time to prepare for Hojo’s next test.

He stood up and slowly peeled his clothes off.

Cloud cleared his throat, “What’re you doing?”

Sephiroth only turned to him and mouthed ‘Hojo’.

“Ah”

It wasn’t long after Sephiroth had completely dressed in his gown, that Hojo himself came busting into his room.

“Get dressed, we’re taking another-” The mad man paused. “I see you’ve already prepared”

“Yes, doctor” Sephiroth replied meekly.

“And how do you possibly know about today’s test. I haven’t informed you, nor my staff.” Hojo narrowed his eyes.

Sephiroth’s body stiffened. It was the man that had told him. How does the man know? What does he tell Hojo?

“Tell him the truth” Cloud said from beside him.

Sephiroth only briefly glanced at him in shock.

“Do not test me boy.” Hojo snapped.

In the heat of his panic, Sephiroth blurted out the first answer he could formulate.

“It was Cloud sir”

“Cloud? Don’t lie to me, there are no staff here called Cloud”

“Tell him I’m your imaginary friend.” Cloud suggested.

Sephiroth only glanced at him, this time thinking ‘Are you crazy?’

“Well?!” Hojo’s voice snapped him back to reality.

“He’s my...imaginary friend...sir” Sephiroth’s voice flatered at the end. it all sounds so wrong. But it’s the best he’s got.

The doctor said nothing. Only narrowing his eyes, then sharply turning away. Gesturing for the boy to follow him.

That day, the battery of tests made Sephiroth hurt so much, he was incapacitated for a full week.

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

“You Ok?” Cloud asked, running his hand through the now teenage Sephiroth.

They continued their entire spiel of discreetly communicating. After what Hojo did to Sephiroth that day, they’ve decided to show little sign of Cloud’s existence.

However, there have been a few slip ups in the past years. Just like what happened that day, Cloud had informed Sephiroth of a scheduled test that Hojo hadn’t told anyone about. Sephiroth soon found himself in the mercy of a mutated Zolom soon after. Then when Sephiroth was writhing in pain on another metal table, he had accidentally called Cloud’s name. Begging for help. Hojo merely increased the dosage.

But after trial and error, they’ve managed to find out a system. It also helped that Cloud knew Morse code, and taught Sephiroth. This way, Sephiroth can communicate in taps, or blinking. Of course, it helped that the staff didn’t know Sephiroth knew Morse code, or even can understand it at all. (They’re scientists, not soilders)

‘Yes’ Sephiroth tapped.

“Good” Cloud sighed, then paused. He looked up at the ceiling, looking troubled.

‘Are you dying?’

He gazed up at Cloud. In all the years that his Imaginary friend has been with him, Cloud has never aged. Never changed. Of course, he’s never had any other imaginary friend, nor had he met anybody who had one. But it is to his understanding that they usually disappear after a certain age. And yet here Cloud is. The only constant in Sephiroth’s life aside from Hojo and the pain he brings.

However he’s noticed Cloud has been disappearing more frequently now. Sometimes fading, or growing transparent.

“So you’ve noticed” Cloud said sadly. He wasn’t dying per se. More like flickering. Disappearing. Dissolving. Leaving Sephiroth to fend Hojo on his own.

‘Don’t go’ Sephiroth tapped lightly. Afraid of what might happen. Cloud told him many things. From what it felt like to ride a chocobo, to how a motorcycle engine works, to the true nature of his birth. He told him about Lucrecia and a Turk named Vincent Valentine. How Hojo back stabbed them. How he killed Professor Gast (Sephiroth liked Professor Gast, he thought he’d merely been moved to another lab), and about Jenova. About what she really is. Sephiroth trusted Cloud, and believed everything he said

At first Sephiroth thought himself a monster. But after Cloud’s constant reassurances, he’d slowly accepted that he’s as human as anybody else.

“Sephiroth, I can’t stay for much longer” Cloud whispered, “Hojo’s gonna present you to the president soon. And I can’t follow you to Midgar”

‘What’ Sephiroth clenched his fist after asking.

“I can’t.” Cloud sounded pained, “I-...”

They stayed in silence. Inside Sephiroth’s room, full of grey steel. The quiet as thick as blood.

“It’s tonight” Cloud finally said.

“Please don’t leave me” Sephiroth whispered. The cameras be damned. He can’t. His friend is leaving him and-

“Sephiroth” Cloud gently apologized. “Remember everything that I’ve taught you, yeah?”

“...Please don’t. Stay. Please”

Cloud sighed, “I’ll stay as long as I can”

That night, Sephiroth cried. Unhibited, uncaring of the repercussions. Uncaring of what Hojo might do if he saw the tapes. All so he can mourn his friend properly.

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The Wutai war was finally finished. The streets of Midgar was filled with SOLDIERS and Infantrymen reuniting with their families, friends, and loved ones. The streets of Loveless avenue was full of hugging, kissing, and over all joy. It was practically a holiday. A festival.

Genesis had left with Angeal on a trip to a showing of Loveless. Leaving Sephiroth alone for his homecoming. His friends asked him to join, but he politely declined. He’d much rather stay home than be carted around as a third wheel on their date.

So here he is, The Hero of Wutai. Alone on a joyous evening. He looked down on the streets. Quietly observing the goings on. He once wished for someone to return to. But the only person he’s ever remotely had was long gone.

He’s not even sure he existed.

Just then, his PHS started ringing.

“General sir?” An uncertain voice from the other side asked. It must have been the guards stationed in the lobby.

“Speak” Sephiroth only answered. Mildly annoyed.

“S-Sir, there’s a visitor for you.”

Sephiroth stayed silent. It’s most likely someone from his ridiculous fan club.

“Sir?”

“Where are they from” Sephiroth said coldly. He is not in the mood for dealing with crazed civilians tonight.

“Says h-he’s from Science sir!” The man answered sharply.

“Identification” Sephiroth asked. The only thing worse than a rabid fan, is one of Hojo’s men.

He can hear the phone being passed to, presumably, the visitor. He had expected an update on a checkup, however the voice on the other end made Sephiroth stiffen.

“Sephiroth...It’s Cloud”

#sefikura #Sephiroth #sephiroth x cloud #ff7 #cloud #cloud strife #FF7 Remake #Final Fantasy #imaginary friends #au #alternate universe #fanfic #angst with a happy ending

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amazingdriverfics · 4 years ago

Text

Crowned by the devil - ch. 7

Summary: Kylo shows to you just how much you care and you change your mind.

Warnings: injury treatment, NSFW content, lil bit of angst

A/N: forgive me for cutting the smut, but next chapter we’ll have a bigger part dedicated to it. Also sorry for not posting so much this week, my College just said we’re going to have online classes and I lost my mind for a bit.

Hope you like it!

Previous Chapter Following Chapter

Hot and salty were the tears falling down your face, it wasn’t long after Kylo left when you broke down. For starters you hated medical environments, it remembered you too much of the day you lost Juney and the fact that Ren mentioned her during your argument wasn’t very helpful. You knew he was right, your adoptive mother always wanted you to leave Tatooine, to be happy and to have a chance to enjoy all the things Kreat didn’t allow you to.

One thing led to another and you never had the strength to leave the sandy planet or your past behind no matter how much it hurted. You tried to forget a part of it covering the biggest part of your scars with tattoos, however, the ‘K’ couldn’t be covered and no matter how much money you got from the bounty hunts, there was no way you could afford the proceedings to make it less visible, so you stopped looking at it and only touched it when showering. Part of your weakness towards Kylo came from the fact that you allowed him to touch the scar, Stars you were stupid.

To make it worst, the dark knight was right about the rest too, you knew the two of you were too much alike, you felt a connection - one you had been trying so hard to ignore -, you were angry all the time - it was the only way you knew how to deal with your feelings - and, yes, you were pretty sure you didn’t deserve anything good, after all when was the last time something good had happened, you had given up happiness long ago and you convinced yourself that you were okay with it, then Kylo Ren got in the way and rubbed in your face just how tired you were of your sorry life. Living in the Steadfast made you feel alive, Cardo was the first friend you ever made, Phasma taught you something after years of nothing and Kylo was something else, he not only turned you on, but was the only one to make you feel vulnerable and, at the same time, brave enough to tell the truth straight to your face. No matter how much you tried to hate him, you couldn’t do it, you didn’t love or trust him, but you were somehow grateful for his presence in your life.

Before you could try to figure out your life some more, a white medical droid entered the room caring a lot of black bandages and a couple of pots filled with blue viscous bacta. “Miss l/n?”, immediately, you turned your head in its direction. “Yes” you answered awaiting for instructions. “I’m medical droid F-88L and I’m here to start your bacta treatment. I’ll help you to sit on the bedside”.

Sitting for the first time was hard and painful, despite the painkillers running in your veins, your side complained and throbbed, pain hitting you in strong yet slow waves causing your finally dry eyes to become wet again. When you were finally able to shift positions, legs falling out of the medical bed, feet almost touching the cold ground, a relieved moan left your mouth and tears left the side of your red and puffy eyes. It wasn’t long before the droid started to move, applying the cold liquid to your wounds after taking your small medical vest off leaving you only in your panties.

The sensation of the bacta against your skin wasn’t the most pleasant, it was sticky, but at the same time it provided some very much needed relief, and thanks to the black bandage which also sticked perfectly to the hurt area, the bacta didn’t met areas where it wasn’t necessary.

All of a sudden, you felt the sticky sensation on your back precisely where the ‘K’ insignia you carried for all those years was, causing you to jump out of the bed, the brusque movement making your side complain and your blood pressure to go down clouding your vision as the room became blurry. Without you noticing, a pair of nurses entered the room helping the droid to place you in the position you had been. “Please calm down, miss” one of the nurses said her voice still seeming a little far, but you allowed yourself to calm down, your breathing becoming steadier, your blood pressure returning to normal levels.

“Wh-why are you applying bacta to my scar?” you asked voice failing as you stuttered, pain clouding you mind at the same time that fear ran through your veins, triggered by the touch on your scar. “The Supreme Leader asked us to treat it, we will make it less visible”. Her words made you cry again, the thought of Kylo caring so much about you that he would spent his Order’s money to help you deal with the worst memory of your life hit all your buttons. “Hm, okay, go on”.

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Kylo watched as she slept on the medical bay from the small window the room had, the drugs made y/n seem at peace as she probably slept a sleep without any dreams, she was always so stunning he thought to himself. The fight had taken a toll on him, he knew he was right, but at the same time she was as well, they didn’t really know each other very well and Ren was determined to change the scenario. As an apology he asked the doctor to treat the ‘K’ shaped scar on her back since the words ‘I’m sorry’ would never leave his mouth. He also knew how much those memories haunted her and he wanted to do everything in his power to keep her safe even if it meant keeping her safe from herself.

“Master Ren” Cardo’s voice echoed in the corridor causing Kylo to be slightly ashamed from being caught staring at y/n sleeping. Clearing his throat he looked to his knight preventing his face from showing any emotion, in times like these he missed his mask. “Yes, Cardo?”.

“Well, don’t get me wrong, sir, but me and my brothers are a little worried about you” the knight threw up his words as if speaking quickly would prevent Kylo from being angry. “Why?” Ren asked, face already showing irritation as his tone increased a bit. “You see, y/n is a troublemaker” Cardo laughed a bit remembering their training sessions “ - and that’s exactly what makes the two of you perfect for each other, but we all know how you feel about her and we are afraid of the outcome -” his speech was interrupted as the Supreme Leader angrily said “That is nothing of your business” as he stomped out of the medical bay.

Kylo knew things would work out between him and his Empress, simply because he could no longer imagine living without her.

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

It had been a full cycle since the last time you had seen Kylo and you were dying to see him again. You needed to thank him for the treatment and, even though you weren’t going to say you were sorry for what happened, you wanted to say that after thinking a lot you decided to give the experiment a try. You didn’t really have anything to lose after all and you owned it to him - or you told yourself that -. The truth was that in the same amount your feared love, you wished for it and as much as you tried to deny it, Ren was getting in your soft spot, despite your previous belief that it didn’t really existed.

The time you spent without him was also very sad, you spent all the time looking into the wall and not having what to do took your mind to bad places, memories flooding your brain constantly making you wish to disappear, you were also constantly thinking about Ren, how you were going to say what you wanted, if you should give in to your needs and desires exploring his body with yours, if you should really try to get to know the man, if you had what it took to rule a Galaxy - the answer in your head often being no -. The good part of your endless obsessive thinking was that it clouded the physical pain almost like medicine, the price - your mental health - wasn’t worth it though.

“Troublemaker?” the nickname and his tone instantly made you laugh, you hadn’t realized just how much you missed Cardo until he showed up. He felt like comfort and as you looked right into his blue eyes the bad thoughts went away. “Hey, asshole” you said, trying to hide the relief you felt in the knight’s presence with your mocking tone.

“Good to know you aren’t easy to kill” he said giving you a tired smile and sitting in the couch Kylo had previously slept in. “I’m offended that you even considered me easy to kill” you said putting a dramatic facade on.

“You’re tiny don’t blame me” he mocked, resting his chin on his hand, eyes glimmering with amusement knowing it would piss you off. “Very funny, Cardo” you faked a laugh “Next time we fight I’ll hit your crotch and we’ll see how defenceless I am”.

“You worried me” he said, losing the brave facade and the mocking tone, vulnerability showing in his traces. “I saw it all, and even though I have seen and done some pretty nasty things I thought that I would pass out”.

“Yes, I didn’t think I would make it either, but I guess I’m tougher than I presumed” a sad smile cracking on your face as the words left your mouth echoing through the white room. “Now I will have to endure the next phase of this ‘experiment’ whatever that is” you shrugged. “I can’t tell you what it is, but you are not going to like it at all.” Cardo said, his relaxed posture coming back and causing you to get a little bit scared of what was coming. “Unfortunately, I have to go troublemaker, need to kill some bad guys” he said faking an attack to illustrate what he was about to do.

Before you could even interrogate the man, he stood up ready to leave the facility. “Wait, can you please tell Kylo to come if you see him?”, Cardo gave you a quick nod and left you behind to deal once again with your memories.

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

“You called me?” his deep voice filled your ears making you jump a little bit from the scare, as anxiety immediately started to eat your insides as you remembered why you asked Cardo to get his master. “Hm, yes. I need to talk to you” you said trying to sound confident as you usually sounded like. As you started to get up, Kylo went to help, his touch on your arms making you shiver.

When you were finally sat, the knight skins left yours, making where he touched feel cold. “Thank you. I’m going to start talking before I regret it” you started avoiding to look at the tall figure still standing, but this time near the couch. “I wanted to thank you, really thank you, what you are doing for me by treating my scar is something I can never repay” you looked at him quickly seeing his face showing no emotion as his hands were in fists. “And, well, I’ve been thinking about the discussion we had - if you can call it that - and, turns out you weren’t totally wrong, so I decided to give this, whatever this is, a chance”.

As soon as you were done, your eyes travelled to him again waiting anxiously for his reaction. While he didn’t say anything, an uncomfortable silence started to fill the room making it impossible for you to breath. The man stood still watching you just as hard as you watched him, not doing anything to show you that he cared for what you said, just as it was about to become unbearable, his voice echoed through the walls.

“You don’t have to thank me for it, I did because I wanted to” he shrugged, body finally starting to move as whole as he made his way to the bed sitting next to you. “I’m glad you decided to try, you won’t regret it. I’m also taking the fact you said I was right - even though I already knew that - as a personal victory” while mocking you a smile showed up in his face, lighting his features and eyes up, it almost stopped you from giving him a remarck back. “You shouldn’t, I was the one mostly correct” a smile also making its way into your features.

“Let me show you how grateful I am for your decision” he purred in your ear, ignoring your comment. Soon he was in his feet again walking towards the door and locking it also making sure that the small window was covered with the curtains. “What are you-” your question was interrupted with his lips as they sealed yours in a deep kiss, Kylo’s tongue dominating yours without mercy. His hands explored your body, always careful with your wound, his right one finding home in your tight squeezing it hard as you kissed while his left one stayed in your hair pushing it slightly every now and then.

You tried to win over his grip in your tight to press them together, a gesture to relieve the pressure building in your core as the blood flooded directly into your clit, making it sore and getting you wet.

Kylo finished the kiss trapping your lower lip between his teeth while his brown eyes, almost black with the desire, bored directly into yours making you even wetter. His hands left your body and made their way to the bottom of the medical vest before carefully taking it off. As soon as your bare chest was exposed, he stood a couple of inches away, taking in the sight of your body, as instinct you rubbed your thighs again and placed your fingers on your nipples squeezing them. Just as you started to play with your nipples, an animal sound left Ren’s mouth while he got closer, his hands taking yours off your nubs as he substituted them with his mouth.

He kissed your nipples just like he had done with your mouth, switching between teasing it with his tongue lapping and swirling around it and trapping the tip with his teeth pulling it slightly as his hands massaged the bottom of your breasts. You were a moaning mess, the building sexual tension and the amount of ruined sex moments with the knight making you more sensitive to his touch.

With his eyes fixed on yours, Kylo started to make his way down slowly in an almost torturing pace, kissing the path to your clothed pussy, lips closing around the skin on your belly leaving some red marks on it, tongue teasing the skin just above the underwear you still had on. Trying to make him go faster, you put your hands on his soft black hair and tried to push him down, but the man was stronger and the only result you got was a smirk in his face. Keeping your hand in place you let him do his way, watching as he kissed the inside of your thighs shortly after you spread them for him.

“Who would’ve known that such a bitter person would smell so sweet” Kylo whispered into your underwear, nose lightly touching your clit making you squirm. Taking his time he lowered your panties letting it fall to the ground, with his fingers he spread your pussy lips showing yourself completely to him. “Such a pretty pussy, I’ve been dreaming of eating this out”. As soon as the words left his mouth, his tongue met your folds in a long lap starting right from your hole and ending on your sore clit causing your head to fall back as a relieved moan left your mouth and your grip on his hair became tighter.

Everytime a pleasured sound came from you, you could feel his smile against your cunt and because of the way his tongue lapped over and over again on your clit alternating directions, there were too many of them. The man was a master at pussy eating, he knew just how much pressure to put on your nub and from the way he did it you could tell he liked it.

As two of his thick fingers entered your hole, curling inside of you and hitting the sweet spot, his tongue continued the work causing your inner walls to clench from the amount of pleasure coursing through your veins. It wasn’t long before you were rubbing your cunt against his face, making him a mess, his chin and cheeks shimmering with your pleasure as he moaned into your pussy aroused by your actions.

When Kylo stopped licking on your clit to suck on it, the building orgasm crashed causing your eyes to close, as your body shook, your legs closing on his head and keeping his mouth connected to your cunt. The only thing leaving your mouth was his name over and over again, your senses clouded from how much pleasure you felt. After Ren finished fingering you through your orgasm, he got up proudly showing his face covered in cum as his fingers sticky and shiny traveled to his mouth, leaving it cleaned not a trace of your arousal on it. “I will never be able to live without eating this pussy, I’ll eat it for breakfast from now on” he said, voice deeper than normal. All you could do was nod, not trusting your voice after having the most incredible orgasm ever.

#crowned by the devil #kylo ren #kylo x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x reader #kylo x you #kylo ren smut #knights of ren #cardo #star wars #adam driver #supreme leader kylo ren

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zrtranscripts · 3 years ago

Text

Home Front, Mission 5: Peter’s Movie Nights (And Days)

Cinematic Masterpiece

[film projector runs]

PETER LYNNE: Hello, runners! Peter here, broadcasting from the gorgeous Princess Louise Theater, an independent cinema a few miles outside Abel. We're going to start working out in a minute, so whilst I'm talking, I suggest doing some light warm-up exercises. Jogging on the spot, stretching, anything that gets your heart rate up.

Right. So muggins here thought it'd be a brilliant idea to loot some cinema equipment for Abel movie night, but the moment I got here, the horde descended, so I've barricaded myself in the projection box and the auditorium is full of zoms. Although as long as there's a film playing, they're too fixated on the screen to come looking for me, but uh, I am trapped for the foreseeable. Still, I can think of worse ways to pass the time than watching The Fantastic Light Trip.

Do you remember this? The uh, sci-fi jukebox musical, came out a few years before the apocalypse. I know everyone made fun of it for having a totally nonsensical plot, but it ruled the box office for months! The Princess Louise actually hosted sing-along screenings, which um, even the zoms appear to like, clearly. Um, sorry. Anyway, uh, Janine thought it would help everyone who's in a similar state of stuckness if I used my impressive fitness experience to lead some Ministry-approved exercises, so let's start with a dance warm-up. Sam said if I plug this cable into – yep. [cable zaps] You should then be able to hear the music from the film when I press this button! Right. Get ready everyone, and dance!

[film projector runs]

PETER LYNNE: Well, that's not the first song I'd think of to soundtrack an inter-species dance-off, but yeah, I think it works. Er, kind of. I wanted us to watch the Fantastic Light Trip as a group. You cry with laughter at the Dance of the Seven Tentacles. You cry with, I mean, just cry at the ending. The song right before they go into hyperspace always gets me. I came to the cinema to bring people together and now everyone's apart. Except for the zombies, obviously. Well, they've got loads of company. Just because we're not in the same place doesn't mean we can't exercise together. We're a team, runners, even if we're far apart.

So now that we're all warmed up, let's do some jumping jacks. Right, you stand with your feet together and your arms by your sides. Then you jump, spreading your legs whilst you're in the air so that you land with them about shoulder-width apart. Now jump back to the starting position. Got that? Great. Now do it again, except this time, swing your arms up over your head at the same time as you spread your legs, then swing them back down as you bring your feet back to the center. Let's give that a go. Good job, runners! I assume. Let's keep it going.

If you're not able to jump right now, keeping your blood pumping with some dance moves is a great alternative. You could uh, walk from side to side instead of jumping, but keep up those arm movements and if you're the sort of person who likes a challenge, Janine, why not try spreading your arms and legs and moving them back to the center whilst you're still in the air? Right, now keep whatever you're doing up as long as you can whilst I turn the music back on for the next song.

[film projector runs]

PETER LYNNE: Nice work, runners! Tell you, you really jumped the hell out of those jacks. Oh, great, this is the feast scene. You know, where all of the um, the alien food starts singing. Um, I tell you what. Speaking of which, how's everyone eating? I know we've had to improvise ever since the apocalypse, but we have to be especially creative now. For example, I have several sacks of popcorn and, thank God, a jar of vitamins I happened to loot on my way here. Would be nice to have something green, but lately I’ve found it's healthier not to worry about having the perfect diet and instead just notice how the food makes me feel. And it turns out munching a little popcorn whilst watching a movie feels pretty damn good.

Still, it's gonna feel even better to kick back and relax after releasing some endorphins, so let's do 60 seconds of squats. Was that a band? Or have I just been indoors too long? Uh, anyway, right. Squats. So squats, they build your leg muscles, which is handy if you ever need to, uh, just thinking off the top of my head here, carry a popcorn machine up two flights of stairs. So start by placing your feet just wider than hip-width apart, toes pointing only slightly outwards. Now stretch your arms out in front of you. Look straight ahead so that will help you engage your core and maintain good form. So you now send your hips down and back until they're just lower than your knees, as if you're about to sit down in a chair, and raise yourself back up. Nice. That's it.

So we're going to do that for one minute, or as long as you can comfortably manage, that's fine, and that's going to start now! Excellent! I'm assuming you're all doing this great. Uh, probably need to just slow down. Don't get carried away. Right, we're 15 seconds down. So I want you to try to really sit into the squat, right? Don't lead with your knees, sit into it. Halfway there. Right. Remember to keep your thighs in line with your feet. Don't let your knees start pointing inward or go over your toes because you're gonna be feeling that burden now, it's gonna make you sloppy. Don't do it. Right, 15 seconds to go. Just try and breathe in time with the movements if you can. [loudly inhales and exhales] In, out. Keep on going, and we're done! Oh, perfect, this is the time for the space cadets to do their musical training montage. Right, you take a dance break, or if you're up to it, just keep on squatting. I think I had a T-shirt with that on for a while.

[film projector runs]

PETER LYNNE: Yeah, I'll admit it. Before the apocalypse, I was pretty proud of my body. And also after the apocalypse for a while. Some strange body things. I'll tell you about that later. Um, but lately I've learned that the best thing you can do for your body is actually just have a good relationship with it. You know, at the end of the day, it really is the only thing that will ever truly be yours. We runners, we can get quite utilitarian about our bodies, so if something stops us using it to get supplies such as an injury, or again, I'm just thinking off the top of my head, a horde of zombies, that can really get you down. But I'm here to tell you to be kind to your body, even if you can't do exactly what you want with it right now.

So why not start by giving it some exercise? This next move is the extremely nifty chair dip. So first, locate an armless chair. I'll just give you a couple of moments. Oh, there we go. Oh, that one looks great. So that-that should be a chair without arms. I wasn't saying a harmless chair, but I definitely would prioritize a harmless chair over a harmful one. Right, so now perch on the front edge of it, hands gripping the edges on either side of you. Lovely. So put your feet flat on the ground a little way in front of you and then you slide yourself down off the chair, lowering further down and then back up again, really using your arms.

Right, I'm going to believe that was a good job. So if that is too much or if you're worried about the flexibility in your shoulders, actually, punching the air is a genuine great upper body alternative. You do have to be careful not to fully extend or or lock your elbows, but whichever exercise you're doing, you are about to keep it up for as close to a minute as you can, starting any moment... now!

Excellent! Okay, again, don't get too over excited. We've got a whole minute to get through. Ease your way in, keep on breathing in and out. 15 seconds in. If you happen to want to make these chair dips more challenging, you can extend your legs further away so they're actually taking less of your weight. See? Makes it much harder than you thought, doesn't it? And we're halfway through! You really should be feeling that burn in your shoulders. Now that burn is what lets you know you're actually doing something. You're stretching yourself, pushing it. Keep on pushing it, but breathe! Nearly done, runners. Just 15 seconds left, in and out. Keep on going. You're almost at that finish line. You can see it, you can taste it, and time's up!

Nice work, everyone. And now you can reward yourself with a nice relaxing bop as the alien queen leads her subjects in their beautiful synchronized dance, or you could keep doing those chair dips if they're feeling particularly good.

[film projector runs]

PETER LYNNE: So The Fantastic Light Trip, it did get just terrible reviews when it came out, but I love that the marketing team like, genuinely leaned into that mockery and that's helped it become a cult classic. And you know, just like them, we've gotten used to making the best of things. You know, looking for the good in every situation. We're just gonna have to look a bit harder for a while. Here, for example, I've only got access to one tiny window and it's in the toilet. It's just big enough for me to stick my arm out and get some delicious vitamin D. And it just means I don't have to worry about SPF. [laughs] Oh, nice try, sun. No skin damage for me!

Course, not everyone's lucky enough to even have a tiny window, or a toilet for that matter. I'll tellyou what. If your situation feels overwhelming, which it might, sometimes the last thing you honestly want to do is exercise, so here's something I used to tell people who came into one of the gyms I was in when they were feeling low. Just concentrate on being in your body and the physical sensation of moving.

And with that in mind, let's raise our heart rates and our moods with some high knees. So we're going to march vigorously on the spot for one whole minute, just like those plucky space cadets out there. Aim to bring your knees to waist height with each step, and begin!

Yes, excellent! Although I did say waist height. No compromise, all the way up. Keep on going. 15 seconds down. Pump the arms, too. It's not all about the knees. There we go, the blood's pumping. Feel it! Halfway there, runners. Lift those knees like you're trying to impress your cadet leader, which in this context is me, and I'm not yet impressed! Keep on going, pushing it. Only 15 seconds left. Keep the core engaged, keep yourself upright, keep the breath and the blood flowing. Feel the energy! And we're done! Just in time for The Fantastic Light Trip’s romantic leads to do their, let's be honest, just gorgeous duet. So take a dance break, or if you're up to it, keep on marching.

[film projector runs]

PETER LYNNE: [sighs] I know, I know. It's a bit silly, since it is a romance between a wide-eyed space cadet and an exiled alien prince. But it's just, The Fantastic Light Trip, it's so sincere. We're never sincere, and you can't help but root for them. At least, I can't. You can't see, runners, but the whole cast is on screen now getting ready for the big finale. They're all smiling and yeah, actually, it reminds me of something else that I tried to tell people when I was leading classes. Did you know that studies show that if you smile while you exercise, it genuinely makes you feel better?

And listen, I know, I know. Really annoying when someone else tells you to smile. Boy, did I learn that the hard way with Janine. Won't be doing that again in a hurry. But it really is different if you're smiling for yourself. Just trust me and give it a try. I mean, the last song from The Fantastic Light Trip, it's so uplifting. We're gonna have a cool down dance to it. And while you're dancing, I just - you don't have to - I just encourage you to smile. Because you are here, and you are alive, and you deserve to feel good. And yes, you smile too, Janine, if you're listening. No one can see you, I promise.

[film projector runs]

PETER LYNNE: [sighs] And here we go. It's the uh, the part where the alien queen and the leader of the cadets, they finally agree to work together. So all that remains is uh, just to assemble the hyperdrive. Turns out all you need to end an intergalactic war is 20 rousing song and dance numbers. Need to remember to mention that to Janine the next time she's brainstorming our defense strategy.

See, it's now the whole cast and they're together and dancing onto the ship. And you know, they really did have that much fun doing it and, and they're arm in arm. Or well actually, to be fair, arm in tentacle. But then the hatch is closing. Blast off. [laughs] Oh, brava. Well, that raised the spirits! I suppose that's gonna be all from me for now, runners, because I'm gonna have to go find another film before the credits finish rolling and all the zoms start looking for something a little bit meatier to entertain themselves, i.e. moi. So until next time, look after yourselves please, and keep on smiling.

#zombies run #zr home front #zrhf5 #peter's movie nights (and days)#zr transcript

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whitewitchdani · 5 years ago

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Laters, Baby: Chapter 6

Read Chapter 5 Here

Word Count: 2084

Pairing: Winchester!Sister x Lucifer

Warnings: angst, language

A/N: Chapter 6! I really like this chapter and I hope y’all like it too! :) let me know what you think or if you’d like to be tagged!

Laters, Baby Masterlist

Sam stood and began pacing the motel room, stopping to look out the window. The sun was up. Y/N had been gone for a couple of hours now and they still hadn’t heard anything from her. If Cas hadn’t flown out to check on her, he for damn sure would not be in this motel room just waiting.

He took a deep breath and ran a hand over his face. She looked so distraught when she left. He just wanted to talk to her to make sure she knew that Dean’s confession changed nothing. He and Y/N were still twins; peas in a pod, two sides to the same coin and any other expression he could think of. They’d been inseparable since he could remember and he did not want that to change. She was his best friend and he wouldn’t know what to do without her.

Sam was shaken from his internal struggle by the sound of the motel room door slamming. “She’s still not back yet??” Dean asked while setting coffee and breakfast on the table.

“No and I’m starting to get worried. She’s been gone for a while and Cas left an hour ago to check on her and I haven’t heard from him either. Should we go look for them?”

Dean sighed and took a long drink from his coffee. “Let’s eat first, give her some more time if she’s still just processing. If they’re still not back when we’re done, we’ll go look for them.”

Sam nodded at his brother as they both sat down at the table to eat. He went to take a bite of his food when Castiel burst through the door of the motel room. Sam looked the angel up and down; he looked like crap. Shit. This could not be good.

“Cas what the hell happened, man? You look like you got your ass kicked.” Dean got up to examine the cut on the angel’s forehead and looked behind him to the open motel door expecting Y/N to walk in next. “Where’s Y/N Cas?”

Cas took a deep breath, “She’s gone, Dean.”

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN SHE’S GONE?!” Dean bellowed in the angel’s face.

“I tried to save her Dean. We were talking in the park, I believe I was successful in helping her feel better regarding her situation, when demons appeared. Originally it was only Meg,” Dean cursed and Sam ran a hand down his face at the demons name. Would they ever be rid of her? “But then two more arrived to assist her. The two attacked me while Meg went after Y/N. She held her own but by the time I dealt with the two demons and tried to help her, Meg had rendered her unconscious and blinked away with Y/N in her arms. Most likely to Hell as I could not follow wherever it was they went.”

Sam jumped up from the table with wide eyes, “Meg works for Lucifer, Cas. Basically his right hand since he’s been topside. Dean, if Meg has her...”

“She took her straight to Lucifer. Dammit!” Dean punched the wall in frustration.

“Calm down! We need a plan. Lucifer is most likely in Hell; if we’re going to get Y/N out we’re going to need to find a way in. That means we need to call someone with direct access to Hell...”

“You don’t mean?” Dean asked Sam incredulously. Sam nodded sadly.

Dean sighed and wiped his hand down his face. With a punch downward, the eldest Winchester yelled, “FUCK!”

The first thing you noticed when you started to regain consciousness was the ache in the left side of your head/face. Your mouth was also extremely dry; when you went to lick your lips, you winced as your tongue grazed your split lip. Fucking demons. You went to rub the side of your head and found you couldn’t move your hands. You looked up and saw them chained above you.

“Owwwwww. Fucking demons, man.” As soon as you moved your head the pounding worsened. You pulled on your restraints with no luck; they were completely secure. All of the movement was causing your head to pound even more. “Fucking fuck. Fucking demon bitch.”

A chuckle came from the darkness in front of you, “You have quite the mouth on you little Winchester. Don’t worry though, I kinda like it.”

You looked ahead and saw two eyes flash red. Of course it was Lucifer, should you have expected anything less? “Lucifer. Wish I could say it’s good to see you, but I’ve tried to cut down on lying through my teeth.”

The devil chuckled once more, “Like I said, doll, quite the mouth.” The devil emerged from the darkness and came to stand right in front of you. His blue eyes met yours as he moved forward and cupped your face, running his thumb over the split in your lip. He tsked, “I told them to go easy, precious cargo and all. You must’ve really pissed Meg off.”

“I may have called her ugly, and told her to tell you to shove it up your ass. And then I broke her vessels nose.” You shrugged your shoulders as best you could with your arms strung up above you.

Lucifer laughed again. Odd, he sure does laugh a lot for being the freaking devil. “Feisty, I like it. You seem much less afraid of me than before. Have you warmed to me baby Winchester?” He asked with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, which made you wince; your head really did hurt. “I have a name you know? And I wasn’t scared of you last time necessarily. Just kinda shocked, I guess? Not everyday the devil shows up and says ‘I’m your soulmate!’ It was half shock and half thinking you were most likely full of shit.”

He looked at you and put two fingers to his chin, “And now? Do you still think I’m full of shit?”

You sighed, “No. I know you were telling the truth. We’re really soulmates.”

His eyes went wide but the ever-present smirk remained, “Really? I’m assuming you didn’t just take me at my word, I am the devil after all.”

“Well duh. Told my brothers and Castiel what you told me, and then I got to have Cas shove his arm up my ribcage so he could touch my soul. You know the fun, excruciatingly painful stuff.”

Lucifer’s face fell; he honestly looked upset. Did you say something wrong already? “You’re telling me my brother touched your soul?”

“Yes? He said it was the only way we could be absolutely sure. He touched it and said he could feel a connection to yours, meaning you were actually my soulmate. It’s been an interesting 12 hours let me tell you.” It hit you just how long this night had actually been. You were going on over 36 hours without sleep and were pretty sure Meg had given you a minor concussion when she knocked you out.

Lucifer noticed that the woman in front of him was struggling to keep her eyes open. “We’ll come back to that, what in Dad’s name is wrong with you?”

You rolled your eyes for at least the hundredth time that night. “Well Lucifer, where should I start? I’m strung up by my arms in what I’m assuming is Hell, correct?” Lucifer nodded. “Your demon bitch split my lip and gave me a concussion; I haven’t slept in over 36 hours; I’m starving; oh, and tonight I’ve found out that not only is the devil my soulmate, but that my brothers aren’t even really my brothers! Yep my birth mom just ditched me on a motel doorstep. John and Dean lied to me and Sam for years.” You let out a breathy laugh and let your head loll down. You were so tired, mentally and physically.

Lucifer tilted his head at you. That certainly explained a lot. Something odd was happening though, he was feeling something for you. He felt... bad? He had the desire to comfort you and to try to make things better. What the fuck, Lucifer? She’s a human. He internally scolded himself but his new feelings won out. He sighed, “If I take you down you have to promise to behave.”

You looked up at him incredulously, “What would I do, Lucifer? I’m half unconscious and you’re a friggin’ archangel, I think I’m a bit outgunned here.”

Lucifer snorted, “Touché, baby Winchester.” He snapped his fingers and the chains disappeared, causing you to fall to the cold, stone ground with a yelp.

“Ow,” you rubbed your head and then your wrists before standing up, “And are you going to keep calling me that? I have an actual name.”

“I enjoy it, but since you aren’t technically a Winchester it isn’t as fun anymore. What’s your name again?”

“Y/N. And I’m still a Winchester Lucifer, just not by blood. Speaking of blood, I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but can I ask you a favor?”

Lucifer’s eyebrows shot up and he grinned, “So eager to make a deal with the devil already Y/N?”

“No, no deals, just consolation for kidnapping me and for Meg beating the crap out of me. Can you please heal me? I’m assuming you’re going to want me conscious for whatever it is you have planned and with the concussion and lack of sleep that will be an issue very soon.”

Lucifer placed a finger to his chin as he contemplated your request. “I suppose you make a good point.” He removed his finger from his chin and placed two to your forehead.

When he touched you, you felt the familiar soulmate connection spark through you. It was followed by the cooling sensation of his grace, its flowing tendrils moving to each part of your body to heal the wounds left behind by Meg. “There. Happy now?”

“Thank you, Lucifer. While I could still go for four hours and a sandwich, I feel better.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. He should just kill you and get this over with. If the soulmate connection was allowed to blossom and eventually be consummated, you would be a weakness. But he couldn’t, and he was cursing his father for it. “Come with me.”

You raised an eyebrow but followed Lucifer as he exited the room and turned left into the corridor. As you followed, demons bowed to Lucifer as he passed but brought their heads up in time to glare at you. The devil bringing a human woman into Hell, a Winchester at that, was probably not an everyday occurrence.

He stopped at an ornate door isolated at the end of a corridor, Lucifer turning to you with a smirk on his face. “This is yours. You will stay in this room when you are not with me, I certainly don’t need a Winchester running loose through Hell. Everything you will need is in here.”

You looked at him dumbfounded as he pushed the door open. The inside looked like a nice one-bedroom apartment that you’d find in a city somewhere, not deep in the bowels of Hell. As you stepped inside you entered a living area with a large couch and television along with a massive bookshelf on the wall completely filled. As you trailed your fingers along the spines you noticed they were some of your favorites: a mix of classics and new fiction. You went deeper into the apartment, passing through the exquisite kitchen and into the bedroom. In there, a king size bed sat in the middle of the room clad in red.

“Red, Lucifer? Really? Isn’t that a bit too on the nose?”

“I’m nothing if not one for the classics.” He smirked and sat down on the edge, “There will be a demon posted outside this door at all times, the only person allowed in and out is me. If you need anything, just tell them. I have some Hell business to attend to; if I knew this place became so bureaucratic and paperwork-centric while I was away, I may have just let Crowley keep it.”

With that, Lucifer stood and exited your new, what was this place even, chambers? Upscale prison cell? You didn’t know. All you knew was that you were stuck in Hell at Lucifer’s beck and call, and that it most likely was not going to end well.

You missed Sam and Dean.

Read Chapter 7 Here

Tag List:

@lovesamwinchester @tomhiddleston-is-mischief @loco-latte @stuckinsaudi1

#laters baby #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fandom #supernatural x reader #SPN #SPN FANDOM #spn fanfic #spn x reader #dean winchester #dean x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #Sam Winchester #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam x sister!reader #castiel #lucifer #lucifer x reader

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squishneedsahero · 4 years ago

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New Ideas

Lost to Time | Part 5

Word Count: 2184

Summary:

The story of an original character, Allison Bennett. Growing up black in the short period between the world wars wasn't easy but Allison had friends who stuck with her no matter what. She was ambitious and had a million things she wanted to achieve in her lifetime and would try only to be told by the world that due to who she was it wasn't possible and she'd never live up to her dreams.

Allison awoke in the morning, and was overjoyed to find herself still in that large bed she had fallen asleep in. This really was happening, she had been sent to a place where she could be herself, one hundred percent her true self. She could open her mouth and say what she wanted, not needing to worry so much about whatever comes out offending a random white person on the street.

She got up and went to the giant closet which contained only a few clothes. She picked out a simple looking dress, something close to what she was used too but still comfortable. She then went to fix her hair and makeup but found none of the products she was used too. She shrugged it off and made due with what she had, using some water to tidy her curls then washing her face before calling it good.

After this Allison takes a deep breath before leaving her room. Things in the compound were just as quiet as they had been the day before. It was early, probably close to 6:30 in the morning so Allison guessed everyone was asleep and decided to explore some on her own. She looked both directions down the hallway and paused a moment before choosing to go left.

As she walked down the hallway there were plenty of doors which she could only assume lead to bedrooms and other living quarters. She follows the slight curve of the hallway, running a hand along the wall as she does so and eventually comes to a small sitting area. Off to one side the wall was solid glass opening the small area up with a clear view of the sky and the rolling fields leading to forests in the distance.

She walks up to the window and looks out across the beautiful scene, as she did this her heart beat faster and she felt her skin begin to burn and tingle as it had when she was at the hospital. It doesn't hurt as much as it had but it was still an odd sensation, she waited a moment for it to pass and it did, her heart rate going back to normal as it did so.

After she enjoys the view for a few minutes more she continues her walk down the hallway and eventually down a flight of stairs. It's as she is beginning to wonder if she should head back to her room that a passing glance through a doorway catches her attention. It was a lab, like the kind she had attempted to create in her tiny apartment in Brooklyn, she can't help herself as she backtracks and steps through the door.

Allison looks around with wide eyes, and whispers to herself the question on her mind, "what is all of this?"

"This is one of the many labs available in the Avengers compound."

Allison almost jumps out of her skin, started by the woman's voice that had spoken up. She wildly looks around for the source of the voice, "who are you- where are you?"

"I am Wednesday, the artificial intelligence created for the avengers compound. As an AI I do not have a physical form for you to see but I am integrated with this building allowing me to manage and maintain it."

"Uh- okay, so you're a robot? Like Vision but no body?" Allison asks wanting more information.

"Yes, Vision was created from the previous AI and I was created in a similar manner."

"Alright," she calms herself once more, regaining her composure, "so what kind of stuff can you do?"

"I maintain the building and make sure all is working well and smoothly. I also make sure everyone is connected when they need to be. I know that you are Allison Bennett, childhood friend of Steve Rogers, born October 28 1918."

Allison gulps, "that is amazing," she pauses a moment before an idea comes to her mind, "would you be able to help me learn about what I missed since I went missing in 1949?"

"Yes I can do that, where would you like to start Ms.Bennett?"

Allison moves to sit in one of the many chairs as she begins to think where she wanted to start learning from. "I want to know everything, where do you think I should start?"

"With the information about you and your interests which I have gathered you have an interest and can comprehend many things. A few subjects which may interest you are; Black History, The Civil Rights Movement, Space Travel, Advancements in Modern Medicine and technology and how to use it," Wednesday responds.

All of those subjects sound interesting, Allison pauses before she gives an answer, "technology, I want to know how all this stuff works so I can use it."

"A very good choice Ms.Bennett," Wednesday says and a holographic screen presents itself in front of Allison's seat. With that Wednesday begins talking and showing Allison starting with the invention of computers and moving on to more modern technology and how to use it as well as answering any questions she might have along the way.

It's hours later that Steve is awake and done with his morning work out and goes to find his friend. He hadn't found Allison in her room so he just began looking for her throughout the compound. It doesn't take him long to locate her once he began looking, quickly coming to the room which she was in, still sitting and totally engrossed with what it is Wednesday is telling her.

Steve waits a moment before clearing his throat and can't help but gently laugh when Allison jumps a bit. She quickly turns to look at him with wide eyes and stands up, "oh I uh- decided to look around a bit on my own."

"I figured you would, did you enjoy yourself?" He asks.

"Yeah," her face lights up, "this place is amazing, I could sit here for ages just letting Wednesday tell me about everything." Allison goes on, info dumping about what she had learned, "do you have a phone?" She eventually asks, "can I see it?"

Steve is surprised, she had already picked up so much. He had been here for years and was still working on learning everything but Allison was like a sponge just absorbing whatever she possibly could. That was how she had always been, she would sit with his mother and learn from her, she excelled at school and many other things, taking any opportunity she was offered to learn. It takes Steve a moment before he is nodding and pulling out his phone, handing it over to Allison, "here, go ahead and check it out. We'll get you one of those eventually along with the other things you need," he pauses a moment, "people are going to start trickling in soon, so we can get some breakfast before they start arriving, you'll love the food they have here, it's all so much better than anything we grew up with."

Steve and Allison found themselves sitting at a counter on bar stools when the first of the Avengers comes through to meet Allison.

The red headed woman introduces herself as, "Natasha Romanoff," and takes a seat beside the other two. For the first time in her life Allison finds herself actually able to hold a nice conversation with a white woman. Nat didn't look upon her condescendingly or give her any reason to think she was her lesser. In her time working as a nurse Allison had met many women, some nice and kind and others not, but no matter where she was Allison who had yet to meet a white woman who seemed to be able to put aside any unintentional biases and her whiteness to just get to know her on a level of woman to woman and nothing more.

Natasha and Allison found it easy to talk with each other and they quickly formed a bond Allison had yet to find with any woman. She and Nat make plans for later that week to go out and find Allison some new clothes and other necessities as she currently only had what could be gathered in the space of a few hours notice. As they are making these plans Wanda enters and offers to join the other two women, and Allison can't help but feel excited at the idea of new friends something she hadn't even thought about in years.

As they talk Steve excuses himself, presumably to go get some other work done since Allison seems comfortable enough.

The conversation lasts for hours, but it's comfortable for the three. It's after Wanda leaves, needing to get stuff done that Nat and Allie get up and go to find Steve again. Steve is in one of the many sitting areas scattered throughout the compound talking with Sam, Allison and Nat head in and join the two.

"Hello," Allison greets Sam and offers him her hand to shake.

"Hey, I'm Sam, I'm guessing you're Allison?"

She nods, "yeah that's me, nice to meet you." She says this as she and take their seats.

"So," Sam begins, "the two of you grew up together, and somehow Steve forgets to bring you up until you just appear one day?" He asks as he arches an eyebrow and seems to be teasing Steve.

Allison can't help but laugh, liking Sam already as he harasses Steve. "He forgot to mention me?" Allison asks with a raised eyebrow, "how rude of you Steve," she bites gently on her lip in order to prevent herself from full out laughing, "I came all the way here just to see you and you don't even mention me to anyone?"

Steve laughs a bit, what had he been thinking introducing these two? He could already tell they would be friends but most likely at his expense as the two individuals had always been prone to poking fun at him and now they'd inevitably tag team the jokes. "I don't know what I was thinking," he doesn't say more knowing any excuse could be used against him and he knew very well he had for a fact talked to Sam plenty of times about both of his childhood friends.

Allison takes the opportunity and says, "well, if you just forgot to mention me I'm sure there are plenty of other things you forgot to mention that I would be more than willing to fill both Sam and Natasha in on," she bites gently on her tongue as she waits for Steve's reaction.

"Oh, that's true you knew him before he was Captain America and all," Sam cuts in knowing where Allison was going and taking the opportunity before Steve could ruin it.

"Yeah, Stevie and I go way back," she starts slow giving Steve a chance to intercede if he wanted. When Steve just slowly shook his head Allison laughed before continuing, "we used to do everything together, he'd always not exactly start fights but if he could choose a side he did and I'd have to help bail him out."

There's a laugh from Nat as she joins in, "yeah? So you and Bucky spent a lot of time saving his ass?"

Allison laughs, "yeah, it was a small ass at the time, it was so odd seeing him for the first time yesterday and him actually being taller than me."

"You were taller than him?" Sam jumps back in, laughing as he imagines Steve being less than 6 feet tall.

"I think when we were 12 I was taller than both him and Bucky, but I easily stood a good half foot taller than little Stevie," Allison purses her lips and reaches over to pat Steve's head.

"Hey, you weren't that much taller than me," Steve finally stands up for himself, "the tallest you ever were was three inches taller than I was."

Allison laughs, "hah! You finally admit that I was taller than you!" She leans back in her seat, smiling at her friend.

The four adults talk for nearly the rest of the day. Steve and Allison catching up and reliving childhood memories while Sam and Natasha enjoyed listening and getting to know more about what their friend had been like before they'd met him.

While Steve enjoyed the conversation and thinking about those memories every time Bucky was mentioned he felt a little pang in his heart knowing their other friend was out there somewhere. It hurt more when he thought about how Allison and Bucky had left things off back in the day and how eventually he'd have to be the one to tell her that Bucky was still out there, not the same but he was still their friend. He had no idea how Allison would feel about the chance to see Bucky again, she would probably be relieved to talk to him and see him again but the idea of that being their last moment together in over 70 years had to be painful to think about opening that subject.

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