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randomingoftherandomness · 6 months

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I wish i had the power write it myself but, the paralel of them before the minister(li bing’s dad) death, all childhood sweethearts and after it all went down, tied with a ribbon of a sentence. I imagined something like “we could’ve worked together” between them as kid imagining themselves in the future, and them in the future talking abt their current relationship (qiu qingzhi(if im not wrong writing his name) keeps taking li bing’s cases for ‘protection’)

A/N: I’m taking that ribbon bit seriously 😚ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

—

“What’s this then?”

Li Bing merely smiles in reply, licking his lips as he one handedly tries to tie the end of a red string around his pinky finger. “Come here,” He instructs, immediately looping the other end of the string around Qiu Qingzhi’s left little finger.

“Are you trying to cut off circulation to my finger? Is this how you succeed in killing me?”

“Oh, hush,” Li Bing grouses, unable to hold a serious face for too long at the way Qiu Qingzhi is wiggling his eyebrows. “We still have to make good on working our way up the Court of Judicial Review. Both of us as Vice Ministers under my father, remember?”

“Of course,” Qiu Qingzhi says agreeably with the tone of someone used to playing along and indulging with whatever his most precious person says. “But it still doesn’t tell me what this is all about?”

“Silly. I’m making rings for the both of us.”

Qiu Qingzhi makes a curious noise, scooting closer to see the neat knot Li Bing used to tie off the string around his finger.

“We could just as easily buy ones from the market? I’m sure there’s a craftsman there who can even shape our rings in whatever designs we want.”

Li Bing clicks his tongue disapprovingly. Putting on an air of ‘I know things that you don’t’, he takes a pair of scissors and snips the loose string between the down so that the threads on their fingers are sitting snug and flat.

“I overheard the matchmaker talk about red strings today. She was saying that fated people have red strings that tie them together,” Li Bing explains. Infinitely patient while he hums in satisfaction at his handiwork. “There. All done.”

Qiu Qingzhi holds his hand out to the sky, examining the red against his pale skin.

“You know that’s not how it works, right? You can’t just make a red string of fate,” He says, hooking his finger around Li Bing’s. “You either have a red string of fate or you don’t at all.”

Li Bing shakes his head. Tightening the hook of their fingers, he sits closer. “I don’t believe that.”

“Stubborn.”

Smiling ruefully, Li Bing shrugs. “Only when it comes to you.”

He finds it threaded into a belt charm. Tucked under all that armour that Qiu Qingzhi wears, it would have looked like nothing to anyone who didn’t know what it was.

But Li Bing wasn’t just anyone and he definitely knew what that was. What it meant and still means to the both of them.

“You kept it,” Li Bing whispers. Awe and guilt seizing tight in his chest.

“I never took it off. Even when…”

Li Bing nods. Understanding what Qiu Qingzhi still can’t say out loud. The hurt is still there and soon they’ll need to address it if they want to keep doing this. And by the heavens above, Li Bing will do it whatever it takes to keep this stupid man with him for forever.

“Don’t move,” He sighs, immediately reaching out to help Qiu Qingzhi sit up in bed. “You’re still healing.”

“I can’t help it. You kidnapped me from my perfectly fine bed—“

“Someone needs to keep an eye on your foolish ass and you’ve got your men too cowed to say a word against you—“

“—practically tied me to your bed—“

“So that I can watch over you—!”

“The Jinwei Guards have perfect access to medical personnel and we have just as good of resources as the Court of Judicial Review.” Qiu Qingzhi raises an eyebrow. “Just admit it. You’re stubborn. It has always been your way or no way at all.”

“Only when it counts. Only when it comes to you,” Li Bing says. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he exhales, shoulders slumping. “Can’t you just… Let me do this?”

If Qiu Qingzhi has anything to say, he keeps it locked away. When Li Bing looks back to him, the man is serenely watching the way the rain is sluicing off the rooftops.

“I can’t lose you. Not when I almost lost you for good.” Li Bing admits, offering the truth uncoloured by any intent other than to be honest.

Reaching out a hand, he hooks their pinky fingers together. “I made a red thread for both of us. I chose you. I’ll choose you, every single time. I made the mistake of not fighting hard enough for you the first time round and I won’t do that again.”

“You…” Qiu Qingzhi huffs. Shaking his head, he slowly smiles, indulging and fond. “I can’t ever win against you.”

Scooting closer to him, Li Bing folds a hand over their joined digits. “It’s only because you always let me win.”

#qiubing #white cat legend #white cat legend fic #gab writes stuff #qiu qingzhi #li bing #qiu qingzhi x li bing #this was sooooo self indulgent to write and I regret nothing #thank you for the prompt Nonnie!

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menagerie-of-monsters · 7 months

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Find the Word Game

I was tagged by @i-can-even-burn-salad - thanks for the tag!

My words are: hurt, help, mercy, and voice

And I'm gonna tag, if you want to, @authoralexharvey, @clairelsonao3, @kjscottwrites, @mariahwritesstuff and an open tag.

Your words are: noise, power, under, and choice

I'm using Caught in the Basilisk's Gaze for this one, since it's coming out on Feb 29th! Plus, it takes place in the Court of Mercy (mostly), so that makes word #3 ezpz haha

Heads up, there's some mildly NSFW text under there~

Hurt

Fae didn't carry scars unless they were made by iron or had healed without magic, and he had them everywhere. His ouroboros tattoo was on top of a circular scar that wrapped around his wrist, as if someone had bound him with steel wire.

"What did this to you?" I asked, horror tingeing the words. "Who did this to you?"

Vaduin turned his wrist for me, letting me examine the ring of scar tissue that ran around it. "I told you. It was after the retaking of Norsandios," he said, calm and quiet. "The Stag Army… or part of it, at least. Humans, I presume, since the debts died with them, one at a time." He sighed, then wrapped his arm around me and tugged me up against his warm side.

I let him do it, laying my head against his shoulder and wrapping my hands around his strong forearm. "That's… awful," I said, anger and horror making my skin feel cold. There wasn't even anyone to be mad at anymore. Eighty years was a long time. All the people who'd hurt him were dead.

How did a person even deal with that? Outliving everyone who hurt you, and having to remember them forever?

Help

"While a little trepidation when being faced with my cocks is flattering, I have no interest in having sex with a woman who's shaking in terror at the thought." His warm thumbs ran in slow circles against my palms, a soothing touch. "If you're afraid of me or horrified by having sex with me, I'd rather try… being blindfolded," he said, shuddering underneath me.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes as I tried to relax. "It would be better if we didn't have to worry about me getting paralyzed."

"If this isn't an option, we can work with the others," he said, still circling his thumbs. "I thought—" Vaduin stopped, then sighed and said, "You seemed to appreciate how we woke up. I thought that perhaps this would be easier than needing to be wary of me, and that you might… enjoy it. I wouldn't have offered it if I thought it would be a grim undertaking for you."

I tilted my head back, my panic slipping away. "It's not… it's not grim," I said, not wanting him to feel like I hated the idea. It made me nervous as hell to contemplate fucking a man I barely knew, let alone one with two dicks, but I didn't hate the idea of having sex with him. "This is definitely the best option. It's just… a lot, all at once."

He made a thoughtful sound. "Why don't you lie down?" he suggested. "Let me taste you. My venom might help, an orgasm certainly will, and you can fantasize about whatever you like instead of having to remember that it's me."

Mercy

"He killed his paramour for gelding him," I blurted out. All three pairs of eyes turned towards me; gray, black, and sea green. "It was, what, a year and a half ago? Right around when all Raven bondservants had to start carrying ID cards. There was even a whole tavern song about it. Something something, 'Mercy's wife took a knife / Cut the end right off his fife / Poor old Omahice lost his dice / But the missus lost her life'." I looked between all three of their horrified expressions, feeling more awkward by the second. "Did you not… get that one… out here?"

Vaduin looked like he was going to be sick. Ayre and Lilly didn't look much better.

"I, uh, have a good memory for words," I said, pouring myself some more tea so I could have an excuse not to meet people's eyes. The steam condensed on my fingers, making them momentarily warm before damply chill. "That's probably not what's killing him, though. Or why. Forget I said anything."

Voice

Vaduin never looked away from my face, moving with me, leading me through it and back down with slow circles of his fingers. He followed me back down to the bed, his hand cupping the back of my head as he lay me down on the pillow.

A smile touched his mouth as he brushed my hair out of my face. "I fear we've made something of a mess. Do you think the healers will mind?"

I laughed, tipping my head back and closing my eyes, the afterglow of orgasm warming me. "You made the mess," I said, my broad smile lighting my face. "I'm only co-located with it."

Vaduin's low chuckle joined mine. The laughter seemed to sweep away all the anxiety of the past weeks, everything returning to the way it should be with his musical voice in my ears.

"As the one who had her hand wrapped around one cock and her pussy around the other, might I suggest that you're equally culpable?" he said, rubbing his nose against mine. "Open those lush emerald eyes of yours again. Let me enjoy the spoils of war."

#tag game #find the word game #mallory dunlin writes #snipperdoodle #monsters of faery #caught in the basilisk's gaze

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etoilehistoire · 11 months

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So the Whumptober prompt for 10/27 is "scars," and I couldn't help thinking about how vain Astarion is about his beauty (because it's all he really thinks he has to offer, all that's kept him alive for so long) and how horrified he'd be at the possibility of facial scars that threatened said beauty.

And then I thought about my "Tav," Xia, and how she has horrific facial scars that make her very unattractive, and how she might comfort someone dealing with that fear.

And so this was born. The premise: someone, some old enemy of Astarion's (working for Cazador? The sibling of someone he seduced and betrayed? Someone else, working for their own reasons? Dealer's choice, really), found and captured him and decided, not to kill him, but to torment him in ways he would never forget and that would leave lasting scars. And indeed, by the time the party found him he was messed up pretty bad, but it had already begun to heal, meaning that even with the benefit of healing magic the scars remain. Upset, he retreats to his tent; Xia follows.

I originally planned to write the whole thing - the abduction, the torture, the rescue - but I realized that I only really WANTED to write this conversation, and that fanfic has no rules and I can do what I want forever. So here we go.

“Don’t look at me.”

A sigh from behind him. “I’m not going away.”

Xia. Of course it was Xia.

It shouldn’t matter. It mattered.

A minute passed in silence before she spoke again. “You lost a lot of blood.” A pause, barely perceptible. “Do you need to…”

She’d never offered before, not since that first night. She’d never said no, but she never offered. Not until now. He should be touched. Instead he interrupted her, cutting the question short. “No.”

Silence again, so profound that he wondered if she’d somehow left the tent without him noticing.

Then, barely more than a whisper, she began speaking again. "...I was never beautiful. Not like you. I didn’t have as much to lose. And what happened to me… it wasn’t deliberate. It wasn’t torture. So I won’t say I understand. Not everything.” A pause, and when she resumed her voice was just the tiniest bit shakier, the tiniest bit less composed. “But I remember what it felt like. How it hurt when it happened. How it felt to know the marks would never fade from my face, that it would always be the first thing anyone saw about me.”

A soft noise escaped him, not quite a whimper. When he trusted his voice again he asked, “How do you live with it?”

There was a rustling sound; his mind provided the image of her diffident, one-shouldered shrug. “A few ways. Reminding myself that anyone who thinks less of me for being ugly isn’t someone whose opinion I need to care about.”

“You’re not ugly.” He blurted it out, surprising himself, but… well, it was true. “I just mean. Your scars, they’re just… they’re part of your face. They don’t make you ugly.”

“Hmm.” An amused sound, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “In that case, maybe yours won’t either.” Her hand touched his shoulder – a warm, reassuring weight. “Star. Let me see.”

Childishly, he wanted to refuse still, but what would be the point? Unless he left the group forever she’d see it eventually. He steeled himself, closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see her reaction… and turned.

Silence.

Then gentle fingers on his face, tracing the lines he’d felt himself, running lightly over twisted skin. He forced himself not to shudder away, enduring when she tilted his head, examining him from different angles.

“Honestly?” she said after a long moment. “It’s not that bad.”

He scoffed, outrage immediately flooding him, and his eyes snapped open. “Not that bad?? He carved my face like a game hen! He burned me!”

Her eyes continued to roam over his face, critical, almost clinical. “The knife marks healed nicely. The lines are there, but they don’t look bad. Just like lines.” Her thumb brushed over his upper lip and he winced, remembering how the sharp knife had left him slashed and bleeding. “These… if I didn’t know better I’d think they were decorative. They’re delicate enough.”

She nodded, dark eyes calm. “He did. You’ve got visible burn marks here,” she said, brushing his temple, “and here. They’re not discolored, though, so they don’t stand out much." Not like hers, she didn’t say, but Astarion thought it anyway. "You got lucky.” Her mouth twisted in wry acknowledgement of the untruth in that. “Relatively speaking, I mean. As burn scars go.”

Her gaze traveled up. “The hair… I won’t lie, I miss your hair,” she admitted with a shrug, and he shuddered. “We’ll have to shave off the bits that are left – it looks messy like this.” She met his eyes, curious. “Will it grow back? Does your hair grow?”

He nodded slowly. “Not as fast as when I was alive. But with enough blood… yes.”

“Then we’ll make sure you get enough blood,” she said, amusement coloring her tone. “Not that you won’t be perfectly charming bald, but you’ll feel more like yourself with your hair back.” One gentle finger brushed over his exposed scalp. “It won’t grow where the scars are, but they’re small. They won’t be visible once it's long enough.”

Then she cupped his face in her hands, ducking down to look him in the eyes. “Star. The scars make your face more interesting. That’s all. You’re still beautiful. Always.”

His doubt must have shown in his eyes, because she shook her head even though he didn’t say a word. “No. Stop that. I’m not polite or tactful, and you know it. I would tell you if you weren’t, and do you know why?” She graced him with a small smile. “Because I don’t actually think it would be the end of the world if you were ugly.”

He closed his eyes then, the words – the possibility – twisting in his heart. “I don’t,” she repeated. “Star, that’s the other part of how I live with it. I know – I know – that my face is the least important part of me. I know that I have worth, and that that worth has nothing to do with being beautiful.”

“You do,” he replied, and ugh, it came out so bitter and ugh, he’d put far more emphasis on you than he’d meant to.

Her voice softened. “As do you.”

“Do I?” Eyes flying open, he stepped back, away from her gentle hands. Turned away from her. Words he’d held back for some time now were on the verge of spilling out, and it would be easier if he didn’t have to look at her when he said them. “Ah yes, the vampire spawn. I bring you so much value. All my enemies are yours, with bonus blood loss and a sore neck on a regular basis. Lucky you.” He laughed, a high, strangled noise. “I can offer you so much! Doesn’t a lifetime in the dark and the shadows sound appealing? Hiding with me during the day, never seeing the sun again once we deal with the tadpole? Being hunted by my former master and his minions, living in fear of any monster hunter who spots my fangs and decides I’m a monstrous thing that should be killed with impunity? Or how about being my own personal snack cabinet, forever? I’m certain that appeals!” His voice caught. “I don’t even… I don’t bring you physical pleasure. Xia. The only thing I’ve ever really had to offer you is my rather substantial beauty, and if that’s gone… how long?” He didn’t look back at her, didn’t acknowledge the tears forming in his eyes. Forced his voice to stay steady. “How long before your kindness and pity for this pathetic charity case runs out? How long before you realize how much better off you are without me?”

Silence reigned. He didn’t care. He felt scraped out, hollow, all the words he’d sworn he’d never say out loud just laying there in the dirt between them.

Eventually, Xia broke the silence, clearing her throat loudly. “You are… obviously having a rough time,” she said, a new note of steel sounding in her voice. “So I will let it slide, for the moment, that you called the man I love a pathetic charity case.”

He whirled, eyes wide, startled out of his misery for a moment – she’d never used that word before. Dark eyes met his, hard and fiery. “Yes, I’m kind. Yes, I’m sworn to help those who need it. That might make me stand with you against Cazador. It might make me offer you my blood. It wouldn’t make me sleep next to you night after night. It wouldn’t make me seek out your company, or hold your hand, or stay up late to sing with you by the fire when everyone else has gone to bed. It wouldn’t make me actively look for ways to make you happy, for gifts that might please you, for opportunities to make you smile.” Her eyes narrowed. “It wouldn’t make me say I love you. And I do. I love you. I didn’t think it needed to be said out loud, I thought I was fairly obvious, but apparently it does. I love you. For reasons that have precisely nothing to do with how pretty you are or what I think you can give me.”

He was staring openly by this point. “Why?” he finally managed, his voice strained.

She lifted shining eyes to meet his again. “We will deal with your enemies. We’ll deal with Cazador. And when the tadpoles are taken care of we'll find another way for you to walk in the sun, and until we do I will gladly walk with you in the night. After all.” One corner of her mouth quirked up. “The night is full of stars.”

She smiled sadly. “Why does anyone love anyone? I like being with you. I like being around you. You make me happy. I like your jokes, the way you talk. I like the way you move and fight. I like the masks you wear and the lies you tell – they’re fun! – and I like the glimpses you let me see of the real you behind them." He swallowed hard, the words ricocheting through his head, a feeling very much like fear - but not fear, something wilder and deeper - stirring inside him.

She wasn't done. "I like that you’re still fighting even after going through so much. I like that you can still be brave. I like that you can still be kind, even if it’s only now and then – it’s more than most people could, after everything you’ve been through.” Her eyes dropped. “I like the way I feel when I’m with you. Safe. Strong. Calm. Like everything will be okay in the end, as long as you’re by my side. Astarion, not only would my life not be better without you, it would be significantly, terrifyingly worse.”

Gods, he loved her. The realization settled into place like tumblers aligning in a lock, the way they were always meant to fit. “I…”

The words caught in his throat. Nine Hells, why was this so hard? He’d said the words a thousand times without meaning them; why should they be so difficult the one time he did?

Without changing her expression, Xia raised one eyebrow, slowly. He could feel the amusement radiating off of it. “Yes, all right, no need to be like that,” he complained. “Maybe it’s hard for me to say it, but. Yes. That. What you said. The same.”

“I know,” she said mildly. “Unlike some people, I can read between the lines.”

Despite his best efforts, a slow smile spread across his face. If she was teasing him, then all was right with the world. He stepped back towards her. “You’d really love me if I were ugly?”

“Gods, I almost wish you were.” An eyeroll really had no right to be so expressive. “Do you have any idea how intimidating you are? You act like you’re not worthy of me, but you do know that anyone who sees us together is going to think you’re excruciatingly out of my league?” She gave him a dry, baleful glare. “You could have gotten ugly scars, like a normal person, but no. You had to continue to be ridiculously, painfully pretty. Even now that you’ve joined the facial scar club, you’ve got me beat.”

“I don’t know about that,” he said, stepping forward to wrap his arms around her waist. “Your scars look beautiful to me.”

“And that’s how I know you love me,” she shot back, comfortably. “Because that is objectively untrue, but you believe it anyway.” She wrapped her own arms around him. “I told the others we were taking a day off. That you needed time to recover.” She smiled. “Want to recover via cuddling?”

“Yes,” he replied immediately. “Yes I do. Lots and lots of cuddling, and also pampering, and maybe you can remind me how my new scars make me look more beautiful?”

She laughed, leaning her forehead against his. “I can do that. Again and again. As many times as you need, I can do that.”

#whumptober 2023 #no. 27 #scars #baldur's gate 3 #fic #self-worth issues #love confessions #xia!tav #etoilewrites #angst/comfort #hurt/comfort #now with added editing!#one day i will learn to edit BEFORE i post but that day is not today

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razieltwelve · 1 year

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Shawarma (Final Rose x MCU)

In which Averia is Peter Parker’s older sister.

X X X

Averia was tempted to go home. New York was safe. The aliens had been defeated. And all was right with the world. Well, not exactly. There were plenty of alien corpses everywhere because not everybody could go around firing disintegration beams at stuff and not everybody had melee weapons that could do the same.

Yep. Saviour was 100% bullshit.

She’d probably have to show up again tomorrow to help get rid of all the bodies. Otherwise, it would take the government forever to dispose of them. Admittedly, she was fairly certain that they’d be taking at least some of the corpses for examination and dissection, but they didn’t need all of them.

“You’re staying for shawarma, right?” Tony Stark asked. “Because, you know, you did help save the world.” He gestured vaguely at the rest of the so-called Avengers. “You’re part of the club now, and that means food, drinks, getting to know each other, all that kind of jazz.”

Averia pursed her lips. “I suppose I could stay.” She paused. “And I was going to get lunch when this whole thing started.”

“That’s the spirit!” Tony slapped her over the shoulder. “Let’s go get some shawarma!”

X X X

Gathered around a table with the others, Averia bit back a smile as she watched them interact. It was clear that they hadn’t known each other that long, but she could already see the bonds of camaraderie forming. Few things brought people closer together than world-ending threats and victory. She knew that from personal experience.

“A fine victory feast!” Thor boomed, enough food for several people in front of him, to say nothing of the booze. From what Saviour was telling her about his physiology, he could easily handle it. “To victory!”

“To victory!” the other repeated.

“You going to be eating with that armour on?” Tony asked.

Averia smirked, her helmet still in place. “Actually...” She raised her glass to her lips, Saviour fiddling with the tangibility of the glass, the soda, and her helmet. She took a long sip of the soda and then set it down on the table. “I can do that.”

“Oh, that’s some bullshit,” Tony said, staring. “But there’s no way you can do that with food.”

“I bet she can,” Clint said. “In fact, I’ll put ten bucks on it.”

“I’m with Clint,” Natasha added. “You weren’t around to see some of the stuff she pulled. Homing disintegration rays that can turn corners, go through people without hurting them, and then disintegrate the targets? Yeah. She can eat fries without taking off her helmet.”

“I’m more curious about how she’s doing it,” Bruce Banner said.

“Captain,” Averia said. “Would you like to throw your money into the pot?”

Steve Rogers chuckled. “I wouldn’t call myself a gambling man.”

“All right,” Tony said. “Let’s see you do it.”

And Averia proceeded to eat a handful of fries without ever removing her helmet. She reached for her shawarma as Clint crowed in triumph and Tony made a disgusted sound. “Although it seems a tad unfair to remain masked while all of you are unmasked...” Her helmet vanished, as did the rest of her armour, leaving her clad in jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket. “Nice to meet you all.”

Tony blinked. “Wait... you’re a kid?”

“If you want to be exact, I’m fourteen.” Averia took a bite of her shawarma. “This isn’t half bad.” She waved at Clint who was staring at her like she’d grown a second head. “Can you pass the barbecue sauce?”

“Wait!” Tony got to his feet. “Hold up! You’re fourteen, and you’re not the least bit bothered by the fact that we just saved the world.”

Averia added some barbecue sauce to her shawarma and nodded to herself. Ah. Much better. “Well, it was either help or find somewhere to hide while everybody else got killed and the city either got invaded or blown up. Helping seemed like the better option.” She shrugged. “And I wasn’t in any real danger anyway.”

Thor’s eyes gleamed and he reached across the table to slap her over the shoulder. “I like this one! Tell me, from where do your arms and armour come? They have the look of masterworks!”

Averia grinned and held out her hand. “You’re probably thinking I call them up from somewhere, right? Nope.” A sword formed in her hand. “I make them.”

Bruce shook his head. “That... violates so many laws of physics its not funny.”

Thor rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Tell me, what sort of experience do you have in hunting giant monsters?”

“More than you’d think.” Averia smiled back. “Do you know where I can find some.”

Thor beamed. “Oh, after the business with my brother is sorted, you must visit Asgard! I’ll take you hunting with my friends. It will be a great experience for -”

Tony seemed to have finally recovered from his shock. “Okay, look, you’re really okay with all this?”

“Yes.”

He stared into her eyes. He could appreciate his concern, and it was nice to see it. Thor was a warrior, but Tony’s moral standards were more modern. It would have been worrying if he hadn’t been worried.

“Just in case, I feel like I have to ask, but you’re not secretly part of some government program to create super soldiers or anything, are you?” Tony asked.

Both Natasha and Steve flinched. The tall man was still looking for the right words, but Averia decided to cut off any potential misunderstandings.

“I was born like this,” Averia said. “I’ve had this power all my life. And I’ve lived a very normal life. I go to school. I go out with my friends. I spend time with my family. If I occasionally save people from disaster or stop criminals, well, that’s just what I do. With the power I have, if I see someone who really needs the help, how can I just walk away?”

Steve nodded slowly. “Yeah. I can understand that. But, kid, this is a big deal. You should be worrying about school and your friends and family, not fighting aliens and saving the world.”

“It is what it is,” Averia said. “I was able to help, so I did. And a lot of people are alive right now because of it. I don't plan on doing this whole world-saving thing full time, but I can give you a way to contact me, just in case you need the help again.”

Tony chuckled. “Shit.”

Steve frowned. “Language. We’ve got a kid at the table.”

Tony threw his head back and laughed. “Steve, she killed more aliens than you. I think she’ll survive a little bit of cursing.” He turned to Averia. “Thanks for your help. If you have a way you want us to contact me, I’ll handle it. Also... if you get into any trouble or anything, just let me know.” He reached into his pocket and slid a device across the table to her. “That’s a way to contact me in an emergency. Use it if you need to.”

Averia nodded. “I will. Now, can we keep eating, or are we going to be worrying about my age for the whole night?”

#final rose #avengers #fanfiction #averia yun farron #mcu

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sergeantsporks · 2 years

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Writing Request: While Camila, Luz, and Vee are out running errands, Amity, Willow, Gus, and Hunter try to surprise them by cleaning up the house... keyword here being "try".

“Are you sure you know how that thing works?”

Amity brushed Hunter off as she dragged the ‘vacuum’ out of its place in the laundry room. “Of course I’m sure, Luz used it just the other day to clean up Ghost’s shedding all over the blankets.”

“I never knew palisman could shed,” Hunter mumbled.

“Anyway, it’s very simple. You just push this button here…”

Hunter covered his ears, but the vacuum didn’t come to life. Amity stared at it, then shook the vacuum cleaner.

“STOP PREVENTING ME FROM BEING NICE!” she yelled, “I JUST WANT TO MAKE THE HOUSE CLEAN FOR CAMILA AND LUZ!!!”

Willow watched Amity from her perch on the couch. “Didn’t your parents have an abomination butler? Can’t you just make an abomination to clean the house?”

“No! I am going to do it myself! Like a human! Because we are in the human realm, and it is rude and not very good cover to do everything with magic here! And you guys are going to help. Camila, Luz, and Vee will only be out at the grocery store for maybe an hour or two, and I want them to come home to a sparkling house. I can’t do it on my own.”

“I already said we’d help. Gus? Any insight on how to make the vacuum work?”

Gus stroked his chin. “Well, you see, this device appears to have a leash.” He picked up the long string that was attached to the vacuum. “I’ve noted that some human creations have the leashes, which attach to the walls, and others don’t. Presumably, this is not a very well-trained device, as it requires an attachment and a limited range of movement. To activate it, it must first be secured.” Gus dragged the end of the leash to the outlet and jammed the prongs at the end into the holes.

The vacuum immediately roared to life, growling. Amity yelped at the sudden movement, and Hunter yanked her back from the animated creature even as the end of her shirtsleeve started to get sucked in. Willow leapt forward, kicking the vacuum and sending it flying across the room. It whirred and went still.

“Got it!” Willow exclaimed cheerfully.

Hunter let go of Amity. “Sorry. Your hand didn’t get eaten, did it?”

Amity examined the end of her shirtsleeve. “Ah. No damage done.” She crossed the room to the vacuum cleaner, dropping to her knees with a sigh. A spiderweb of white split the plastic in roughly the shape of Willow’s foot. “Can’t say the same for the vacuum, though. The holder bit has a crack in it.”

“Ooooooogh,” Willow hissed, “Sorry. Can you fix it?”

“Maybe?” Amity drew a circle, and abomination matter formed around the outside of the container, sealing it shut. “Gently this time.”

Gus reattached the vacuum to the wall, and this time, it didn’t turn on. Amity pressed the button, and the vacuum whirred to life, making an occasional high pitched whining noise.

“…I think it’s working? We’ll just have to leave the abomination on there forrrrrrr forever! Great! This is fine! We’re off to a great start! Hunter, can you sweep the hallway?”

Gus handed Hunter a broom, and he gave it an experimental twirl. “Hm. Weight on this isn’t great.”

“It’s not a weapon. You sweep with it.”

“I mean, I know it’s not ideal, but it could make a good weapon in a pinch. Not that I’d replace Flapjack.”

Amity groaned, burying her face in her hands.

A gentle hand brushed her shoulder. “Hunter, give me the broom before you hurt someone,” Willow said firmly, “Amity, you can get the vacuuming. Gus, you and Hunter get the breakfast dishes.”

“On it!”

The boys’ footsteps pounded away, and the sink turned on.

“More soap,” Gus ordered, “The sink must be at least half filled with bubbles.”

Amity sighed, looking up at Willow. “How are you so good at that?”

“Good at what?”

“Figuring out who needs to go where and how everyone can help the best. I used to think I was so good at being the leader among my friends, but… I’m starting to think Eda was right, and I’m just a bossy boots.”

“Eh, you’re not so bad.” Willow sat down on the couch. “You’re pretty good at organizing stuff. Looking at schedules and planning out a day is more your forte than mine.” She lightly punched Amity’s shoulder. “It’s just solving the problems where you can, and letting go in places where you can’t.”

Amity nodded, and stood up. “Thanks, Willow. Maybe it’s time I solve the dirt problem, huh?”

She clicked the on button on the vacuum and it rumbled to life again. Amity ran it up and down the carpet, smiling at the way the dirt disappeared where she drove it.

Then the vacuum coughed. The abomination fluid holding it together started to shake and tremble, shrinking towards the area of the crack.

“Uh-oh,” Amity murmured. She drew another circle, re-covering the case, but that started to go, too. “Guuuuuuus?”

He poked his head out of the kitchen. “Oh. Well, it sucks stuff into that chamber, I guess it’s sucking in the abomination goo.”

“Fantastic, how do I stop it?!”

“Simple solution.” Gus unplugged the vacuum, and it powered down. “There you go!”

“But—but what about—” Amity gestured to the floor. “How am I supposed to clean the floor?!”

“Solve what you can!” Willow called from the front hallway.

Amity took a deep breath. “Right. Control what I can. I can… help with the dishes? I can do that.”

The moment she and Gus stepped through the kitchen doorway, Hunter leapt off the counter, hands full of foam, and threw a bunch of bubbles into Gus’s hair.

“Revenge!” he crowed, wiping bubbles out of his own hair, “That’s what happens when you—oh, hiiiiiii Amity. We are also washing the dishes.”

“Clearly. I suppose I really can help here if you two are going to—”

She was interrupted by a fistful of bubbles being shoved on her chin like a beard. Amity sputtered, spitting out soap. “Augustus Porter!” She wiped the bubbles off of her face, shoving them on his forehead. “Oh, you will regret that!”

“Protect the bubble armory!” Gus yelped, trying to slide between her and the sink, “She’s on the warparth!”

Amity lunged over him, scooping up a huge handful with one hand and drawing a circle with the other. An abomination rose up, grabbing Gus as she smeared bubbles across his eyebrows and on his mouth.

“Help!” he sputtered.

“There is no help for you!”

Willow poked her head in the kitchen. “Hey, what’s going—”

Hunter seized her broom, whirling it in his hands and bringing it down in a heavy blow on the abomination, which immediately collapsed. “Run, Gus!”

“Traitor! I thought you were getting revenge on him, too!”

Hunter held his arms out, staying in front of Gus. “You go too far, Amity!”

“Too far? Not far enough!” Amity seized another handful of bubbles, flinging them at him. “Stay out of my way, Hunter!”

Hunter’s eyes widened just seconds before foamy bubbles cascaded down Amity’s head and shoulders. Amity yipped, her shoulders hunching. “Gus!”

“Not Gus!” Willow’s voice boomed from behind her, “Me!”

Amity whirled around. “Willow?!”

Willow grabbed another handful of bubbles. “Stand down, Amity. I don’t want to do this to you.”

Gus and Hunter hunkered down behind the counter, peeking over. Amity glanced at them, then back at Willow. “You’d take their side?”

“End the violence. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

Amity spotted a glimmer of white on top of a cabinet. “Yes, it does.”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“No. You are.”

Ghost pounced from the cabinet onto Willow’s head, and the plant witch stumbled back with a yelp. Amity lunged forward, scooping up a handful of bubbles and flinging them into Willow’s glasses.

“Victory is mine! I am the queen of bubbles, the top student of foam!”

Gus jumped forward. “Nooooooooooooooooooo, Willowwwwwwwwwww! Whyyyyyyy?! Why did we create so many bubbles?!”

“So that you could try to make my hair look like yours via bubble extensions,” Hunter reminded him.

“Oh. Yeah.” Gus leaned on the counter. “Got it out of your system?”

Amity squinted at him. “Try me and find out.”

Gus nodded thoughtfully. “Hunter and I will do the dishes now.”

“Excellent.”

Willow took the broom from Hunter. “How is its weapon rating?”

He waved a hand back and forth. “As far as brooms go, I’ve had worse. It didn’t break!”

Amity surveyed the kitchen. Her failed abomination oozed across the floor, scented like the soap that covered every surface. “I think we made it less clean in here.”

Willow set the broom to the side, picking up a washcloth instead. “You get the abomination, I’ll get the soap?”

Amity gave her a small bow. “Excellent task delegation, Willow.” She bit her lip, glancing over the mess again. “Do you think we’ll get this cleaned up before they get home?”

“Not if we don’t start.”

#toh #the owl house #asks #writing requests #toh fanfiction #my writing #willow park #amity blight #toh hunter #gus porter

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origami-is-life · 9 months

Note

DREAM SEQUENCE PART TWO ELECTRIC BOOGALOO THE SECOND PART

Sorry for the cliffhanger, also you finally get an actual description and name for her old teammates.

Sitting before our beleaguered heroine are four magical girls she knows quite well. They’re seated in a circle, the same way they’ve always done.

“It’s been a while.”

The first speaks up. She’s wearing what looks like a slightly fancier school uniform, but the soul gem on her bow and the odd spider motifs betrays this as her magical girl outfit. Her hair is short, straight, and deep blue. She quietly examines Kitsune through a pair of glasses. This is Patricia, the Class Representative Witch.

”I-I hope you’re doing well!”

The second nervously fidgets with her gloves, not sure how to interact with what has become of her old adoptive sister. Her verdant hair cascades over one eye, adorned with red roses. Her outfit, which looks like a combat adaptation of a masquerade ball outfit, is covered in rose motifing, even her skirt replicates the look of a swirl of petals. A familiar sits on her shoulder. This is Gertrud, the Rose Witch.

“You took forever!”

The third girl beams excitedly. Her outfit is flashy and old fashioned, looking like a proper princess gown, it’s a wonder that she can fight in it. Her color scheme is soft, deep blues and whites. Her hair is white, and partially tied up. A veil falls over her back. This is Walpurgisnacht, the Witch whose nature is Helplessness.

“Hiya again!”

The fourth girl waves. Her hair is black and tied into twin-tails by red ribbons. Her outfit is a more classic magical girl outfit, colored in white and bright aquamarine, accented with lights. She looks a bit like Miku, to be honest. This is Kirsten, the Box Witch.

“H-how are you here?!”

“MAGIC.”

“We cannot stay for long...”

“The mortal plane is not one we should visit more than we need to.”

“Dream sequences, however, are generally allowed!”

“…Why didn’t you come sooner?”

“…We all know the answer to that: you would have lost it. Besides, the only time you’ve slept since we died was you being out-cold unconscious after getting shot.”

Kitsune does not reply to that, staring at her hands. She knows quite well what kind of damage she was willing to do to herself and others just to see them one more time, just to have them by her side again. She would’ve torn herself apart trying to get back to them-

Gertrud smiles warmly, placing a hand on Kit’s shoulder.

“But no need to worry, that time has passed.”

“Yeah! I missed you!” “Guys, we have a mission, now is not the time for antics.”

“Awwww-“

“…We are here to deliver a message, and then we must leave you.”

Kit’s eyes fill with tears of panic, but Kirsten speaks before she can.

“You fulfilled your wish.”

“…How?! I couldn’t save you, I-“

“I can’t speak for the others, but you were one of the best friends I had in life.”

“I second that! You’re fun, and dramatic, and you always make even boring stuff a good time.”

“You work so freaking hard to make everybody happy and okay, Kit, give yourself some credit for once! I didn’t sacrifice myself just to watch my teammate throw the life I gave her away!”

“This team made me feel loved when nobody else did. And we wouldn’t be a team without you, Kit.”

“Awww, guys…”

“…But the past is past, and you’ve done all you can. Origami’s right.”

“You may lose flowers to frost, but new ones will grow in spring.”

“I dunno what that means but YEAH!”

“Stop rewatching Act 1 and get on with the next scene already!”

“It hurts more seeing you try to get us back, trust me…”

“Move on.”

“I tried so hard, I’ve lost so much for this…”

“You’ll just lose more, you can’t outfox death. Cherish what you have, the team you have, the world you have...”

“Besides, you’ll see us again someday! But now’s not the time for you to die, not yet!”

“Mada Dame Yo*.”

Kit stares down at her hands, lost in thought for a moment. …Maybe she’d be less miserable if she listened to her friends, maybe the world’s better with her in it…

“…I can try. I-I’ll try my absolute hardest.”

“You’re gonna do great! You and Origami and Hammer and everybody! WHOO!!”

“Now, get some rest. It’s time for us to go.”

They hug her before standing up, smiling warmly at their friend. At their sister. …And then they’re gone…

…But Kit doesn’t wake up, her dream doesn’t have to end just because they left it. She stares from her vantage point at the risen sun, at the city skyline, smiling, tears dripping down her cheeks.

“…I wish…I wish my teammates could be here with me to see this, heh…”

*translation: “it’s not time yet”. This is also a song from Madoka Magica lol

[mod magic to give ori that sense of peace for a moment, excuse me a sec]

*origami pauses in her search, feeling a strange sense of peace wash over her. like all her problems have been resolved somehow. she suddenly pictures herself standing beside kit, watching the sun rise over a gorgeous city. she blinks, and the image is gone. the peace takes longer to fade, but she cant seems to get rid of the smile on her face. she has no idea what just happened, but she feels as though its a good thing. she continues her search, a little bit of some pep in her step once again.*

[ELSIE THIS IS SO SOFT AND BEAUTIFUL AND SWEET AND JHJBWCHBWKCHBWKDCBHWVHW]

[I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH OH MY GOD]

[KIT GETS PEACE OF MIND LETS GO]

#tadc anon #[mod lily]

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drewexe · 2 years

Text

Ghost

(Justin Bieber; cover by Seungmin)

Now playing…

Pairing: chan x reader

Genre: angst

Word count: ~1,7k

Playlist entry: ghost

Author’s note: so here goes the first one of the song requests fics ! writing this was a bit of a struggle of getting myself in the right space for it but i hope that i did the song and the request some justice; the song is meant to comfort but this has somehow turned out to be mostly hurt warning for implied character death i guess? request was submitted by @lenavlkr sorry for the wait and i hope you will like this one and also genuinely that you’re doing okay ;-; <333

🔻 Add to queue

You’d always thought that you and Chan would be forever. You’d always assumed that nothing could ever come between the two of you. You were too close for that, you loved each other too much for that. It was you and Chan, as simple as that. As simple as it needed to be.

But then Chan left. It was also as simple as that. As simple as one wrong step. Too simple. One day you were curled up in bed together, talking about just anything, the next he was gone. And you were gone too. Without Chan you had nothing.

You had a hollow shell of a home. A home that once used to be bright and filled with music. Chan’s laugh. His jokes and his little dumb pick-up lines that you’d always cringe at but never failed to make you smile. His happy little hums and his loving voice whenever he had a love song he wanted to share with you. Like that time when you had just moved in together and he had pulled out his phone and played a slow romantic song, taken your hands in his, and danced with you, humming the melody and singing along so quietly that you could only hear him because you were so close to him that you could as well be one whole.

You had a bed too large for one person. A bed that you used to share with Chan. You’d lay there together, sharing a few minutes more than you were supposed to in the morning. You’d cuddle on lazy weekends and talk about anything and everything. You’d share sensual touches and kisses, giggling to each other every time Chan got ticklish. You’d hide under the blankets, in each other’s arms, when you had a bad day or when he got too stressed. Like that time he had a deadline for a complicated project and he had been so overwhelmed working on it that he couldn’t sleep for days until you had pulled him with you under the covers and had held him in your arms, playing with his hair and rambling about a series you’d been watching for hours on until he couldn’t fight the tiredness and had fallen asleep curled up next to you.

You had a wardrobe full of dust. A wardrobe that used to keep your clothes organized tidily and Chan’s just thrown inside unless you got too peevish about it and sorted them properly just for him to mess them up the next day. A wardrobe with a mirror on the inside of one of the doors that you used to fix your outfits, and whenever he caught you staring for too long, Chan would come over, hug you from behind, and whisper praises to you until you couldn’t help but smile and kiss him. Like that time a friend had taken you shopping for your birthday and you had spent so much time searching for the right thing to buy, yet every clothing item you tried on had been the wrong size and looked hideous on you, so you’d returned home on the verge of tears. You had looked at yourself in the mirror, examining all the things you hated about your body at that moment until Chan had come up behind you, pressing a kiss on your shoulder and telling you how much he loved every single part you hated as if he could read your mind at that moment.

You had an untouched pot of ramen. Ramen that you would have shared together. Chan would always make sure you ate well, and you’d do the same for him. You would cook together a meal for dinner, sometimes complicated recipes, other times, when both of you were tired from the day, something simple. Like that time you had made plans to prepare a complex type of pasta for dinner but work had been so stressful for both of you throughout the day that instead, you had bought premade dough from the convenience store and had settled on a homemade pizza, kissing on the kitchen counter as you waited for it to finish baking.

You had an empty picture frame on the wall. A picture frame that used to hold a photo of you and Chan. Taken by a friend. Showing the two of you together, happy. Enjoying time together, believing you had all the time in the world together. Chan was smiling in that photo. His bright smile, his adorable dimples, his loving eyes as he looked more at you than at the camera. It had been taken that time you had gone to the beach with a few of his friends, a couple of hours ride by the train, jokes along the way, and childish excitement when your feet had stepped onto the sand. You’d laughed together, played together and you had almost missed how someone raised a camera toward you and captured the moment.

You had an unused bottle of perfume. A perfume that was distinctively Chan. He’d wear it every day to the point that you would joke you can’t recognize him when you can’t smell the perfume on him. On the flip side, the smell made you think of him so much that even if you were walking down the street and someone passed you by leaving a trace of perfume, you’d feel warmth filling you up. Like that time you had been away visiting your family and when you got off the bus on your return, you could swear you could smell his perfume. He was supposed to be at work at the time so you owed it to your excitement to be back home with him again, but just as you unloaded your suitcase, you felt arms wrap around your waist, and there he was. His smell had reached you before him but he had always been there, waiting for you.

You had a broken little tape player. A tape player that Chan used to carry everywhere with him. It was old and chipped, occasionally distorting the sound or skipping, but still, he treasured it so much. He’d say that just because it’s been through a lot and struggled sometimes, didn’t mean he should give up on it. Because that’s how Chan was, always caring, even when talking about an inanimate object. He’d record his favorite songs on tapes and play them for you. Like that time you had unconsciously hummed to a song that you had heard on the radio earlier, that you couldn’t recognize at all but had loved so much it plagued your mind for days until one day you heard it again, and when you looked up, it was to see Chan and his chipped little tape player, smiling proudly. You had no idea how he had managed to find the song, but the love you felt for him at that time was overwhelming in the best way possible. And you’d secretly started making your own mixtape for him.

You had a promise ring. A ring that had not fulfilled its promise. You had talked about marriage, about starting a family. But both of you didn’t want to rush things. You loved each other to the moon and back, you didn’t need to sign anything to know that. The ring didn’t promise that. But it promised that you would be together forever. Naively, maybe childishly, both of you had believed that the little ring would protect you from the harshness of the world and not allow anything to come between you. He’d given it to you that time you went to Mcdonald’s on your anniversary - Chan could make any ordinary day romantic so you didn’t need expensive restaurants to commemorate your love. You’d gone to the park, feeding the finches together, and then you’d gone to Mcdonald’s, and as you shared a milkshake and you were feeding him fries, he’d suddenly taken your hand and slid the ring on your finger. You had almost cried back then.

You had the ghost of a boy. You had the sound of his voice and his laugh ringing in the empty rooms and echoing off the walls. You had the shape of his body in between the blankets covering the bed, you almost had leftover warmth of his body. You had the ghost of his smile over your shoulder whenever you dared take a glance in the mirror. You had leftover traces of his perfume in the air. You all of your memories together, enough to fill up your heart to eternity and warm up even the coldest of winters.

But actually, you had only silence you didn’t dare break because it wouldn’t be him.

You had an empty bed that you didn’t dare sleep in because he would never join you.

You had piles of clothes thrown around the whole room because you couldn’t make yourself move them.

You had a pot of cold soggy ramen that you would never eat again because he wouldn’t be there to share it with you.

You had the empty photo frame that you’d never put a photo in because it wouldn’t matter if he wasn’t in that photo with you.

You had a bottle of perfume you didn’t even dare touch because you might accidentally spray some of it but you’d only have the smell and not him.

You had a mixtape on his nightstand that you had finished up too late to be able to show him and now you would never play because he wouldn’t hear it.

You had a promise ring that had promised you all the time in the world. Except Chan should have been there to share it with you. And now you had the rest of eternity all alone.

You had only memories of the way Chan would fill up each and every one of your days. You had all of your memories together, enough to make your heart feel empty for eternity and chill down even the hottest of days.

You had a mirror that showed your pitiful reflection - pale skin and dead, red eyes, you’d lost so much weight you could see your ribs poking through your skin. You desperately needed Chan to hug you and tell you you’re beautiful and that he loves you. But he would never do it again.

You had nothing.

And in your hand, you had a note. A message he could never receive. A message you could never send.

I miss you more than life.

#stray kids angst #stray kids imagines #bang chan angst #bang chan imagines

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

Text

vignettes of a bond || alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader

I originally wrote this in two parts for my sleepover but after I realized how long it accidentally became, I've reformatted it, added/changed a few things, and made into a oneshot!

word count: 3.1k

warnings: smut, angst, knotting, violence

June 2nd, 1943, 11:43 p.m., James Barnes’ bedroom

“I wanna do it, before I go,” he whispered against your skin. “But I know it’s wrong. It’s too cruel.”

“No, please,” you whimpered, “I want it. I want your mark.”

Bucky pulled back for a moment and you examined your Alpha’s face carefully, knowing it might be the last time for a long time. “I couldn’t bond to you and then leave you. It wouldn’t be fair… you deserve to find somebody who can stay, and be with you, and protect you.”

“All I want is you,” you whispered. “Please, Alpha… bite me.”

You saw him hesitate for a moment before he leaned in and sucked at your neck, building the anticipation before he finally sunk his teeth into your skin and you cried out, one single tear rolling down your cheek. “Mine,” he growled against your skin as he lapped at the healing wound, “my Omega. Forever.”

“Yours, only yours,” you agreed eagerly.

It wasn’t the first time Bucky had taken you, but that night he really and truly claimed you, left you a desperate begging mess, stretched out over his knot as he filled you over and over.

The next morning, you were still sore between your legs as well as on your new mark, and it took everything in you to be strong as you saw him off at the train station, waving goodbye and praying that your Alpha would return to you soon.

November 9th, 1943, 2:24 p.m., undercover SHIELD facility

“You promised Bucky you’d take care of me,” you reminded him with a little smile, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“I know,” Steve relented, “but we both know I can’t do that. Not in this state. But maybe I can protect you if I do this. Maybe I can protect my country. I owe it to everyone, especially Bucky, to try.”

You nodded. “But I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too. Come see me before I ship out for good, alright?”

“Of course,” you agreed.

December 27th, 1943, 8:32 a.m., your front porch

“You’re lying,” you gasped as you shook your head. “You’re wrong, no, it’s not true.”

“It is,” Steve promised as tears welled in his eyes, “I’m so so sorry, I saw it myself, I had to watch him fall…”

“It’s not true! He’s not dead!”

“I know he loved you so much. He talked about every day, he couldn’t wait to come home to you,” Steve remembered, choking up noticeably. “But he won’t. He’s gone.”

“You don’t understand, I know, okay? I know.”

“You’re in shock, I understand, it’s hard to lose your mate—”

“You’re a beta, you wouldn’t understand,” you dismissed; sure, he looked like an alpha now, but it didn’t make a difference. “Omegas, we know when our Alpha dies, we feel it, it kills us. He’s far away, but he’s still there, I still feel him!”

Steve held you as you sobbed, your body crumpling into his arms. Sometimes you thought maybe he held you too tight on accident because he was still getting used to his new strength; other times you thought he did it on purpose.

February 3rd, 1944, 12:00 p.m., undercover SHIELD facility

“Even when I had nothing, I had Steve,” you recalled shakily, “and now he’s gone too.”

“Is that why you’re volunteering?” Agent Carter asked you. “Because you’d rather sleep for a hundred years than live without your mate and your best friend?”

“I’m volunteering because my mate and my best friend died for SHIELD,” you corrected firmly, “and if I’m not willing to also, then I’m admitting I think they went to waste.”

“Steve told me you didn’t think Bucky was dead,” Peggy remembered.

You winced. “I’m not sure. But I know he’s not coming home again. I came here to give whatever I could to help find him… I was asked to participate in a cryogenics research study. If it helps him, then I’ll do it.”

She was about to get up, apparently satisfied with your final interview, but you stopped her.

“On one condition,” you added. “If James Barnes is found, alive or dead, wake me up to see him.”

She nodded, stepping out of the room and leaving you alone again.

May 8th, 2012, SHIELD headquarters

“Can you hear me?”

You slowly blinked awake, your vision taking a moment to catch up with your mind. You saw tubes coming out of your arms; you saw Steve above you, looking like the day you saw him last.

“Did you find Bucky?” you asked instantly. Why else would they wake you up?

“No,” Steve answered, seemingly a bit disappointed that that was your first and only question.

“Then put me back to sleep,” you demanded.

“It’s been 68 years,” he told you. “You’ve slept for 68 years. It’s time to wake up.”

And you did, more than you ever wanted to, because you realized you couldn’t feel him anymore. Your Alpha was gone. Worse, he probably died while you were asleep; he probably died alone.

One more time, like he had 68 years ago, Steve held you while you sobbed.

August 1st, 2014, 2:11 a.m., Avengers compound, Steve Rogers’ quarters

You ran into Steve’s room barefoot and still in your pajamas, barreling through the door and right into his bed.

“Steve, I feel him!” you rushed.

“What?” he groaned sleepily, looking up at you as he blinked in confusion.

“I feel him again, he’s alive,” you explained. “I know it. He’s weak… he’s hurting… but he’s there.”

“That’s impossible,” Steve shook his head. “It’s been too long, he would’ve died of old age anyways.”

“Don’t you want to believe it? Don’t you want to think he’s out there?”

“Do I want to think he’s alone and I didn’t save him?” Steve hissed. “No, I can’t say that I particularly do!”

“But we still can, Steve, we just have to find h—”

But before you could finish, the feeling left you, and you were just half of something again.

“Oh,” you breathed.

“He’s gone again?” Steve realized.

You nodded, biting your lip as it started to quiver. He sighed and pulled you into a hug. “If I could just see his body, and know it was over,” you whispered, “if I could just bury him, have a funeral…”

“We’ll have one,” Steve decided, “after this mission. We’ll put him to rest. He deserves that, and so do you.”

You nodded into his shoulder. It shattered you into a million pieces but it was still the better option, to try to let him go in whatever small way you could. He would always, always, always be your Alpha, nothing could change that, but a funeral would at least bring some closure.

That would have to wait until after your next mission though… and it was going to be a big one: tracking the elusive Winter Soldier.

August 3rd, 2014, 1:14 p.m., Lower East side

You were a few blocks away, helping civilians escape the firefight, when you felt it.

For one impossibly brief moment, you felt him, stronger than you had in nearly 80 years. He was here.

You instantly got up and ran like you’d never run before, finding the Soldier and Steve locked in a brutal showdown— but his mask was gone now, and you nearly fell to your knees at the sight of him.

“Bucky!” you yelped, but you knew he wasn’t there or you would’ve felt his presence. Your Alpha was somewhere underneath the shell that wore his face, and you needed to find him.

You ran forward just as Steve made a break for it, getting to him just in time to stand between the Soldier and his mission.

“Alpha, please,” you whimpered, clutching at his chest. A metal hand backhanded you to the ground.

“Out of my way, Omega,” he growled, stepping over you, but you grabbed at his ankles even when he tried to kick you away.

“My mark,” you explained hastily, pulling your shirt down some to make sure it was visible. “It’s yours. Do you remember? You gave me this. This is your mark on me.”

He stared down at you, seeming to be contemplating it, and you scrambled back to your feet and faced him.

“I still feel you,” you whispered. “I knew you were alive, I knew you’d come back to me. I could feel you, right here,” you explained as you took his hand and placed it on your chest. “Could you feel me? Did you know I was waiting for you all this time?”

His eyes were watering but he still seemed confused— stunned, more specifically, as you placed your hand on his chest.

“I’ll always be yours, Bucky. I’ll always be your Omega, no matter where you are.”

A stun gun took you down, an array of masked men appeared, and before he could really see you for what you were, he was dragged away and taken to be erased again.

August 3rd, 2014, 9:04 p.m., Avengers compound, medical bay

“I can’t believe we let them get away,” Steve lamented, resting his face in his hands. “I can’t believe they took him again…”

“They’ll be back,” you promised sternly. “They’re going to figure out what I am to him. They’re going to realize I could break his programming. And they’re going to come for me.”

“And when they do?” Steve pressed.

“We’ll be ready. And I’ll get my Alpha back.”

August 3rd, 2014, 9:04 p.m., temporary HYDRA operations facility

"The woman on the bridge... the Omega..." Bucky mumbled. "She knew me... she had my mark."

"No she didn't."

He furrowed his brow. "She showed me..."

Pierce sighed, glancing over to the HYDRA scientist who looked back at him sternly.

"She's too dangerous to be left alive," the man sighed, shrugging in his lab coat. "We can't deprogram a bond like that."

"We'll take care of her," Pierce promised.

Bucky launched from the chair, snapping his restraints like paper. "Touch her and I'll fucking kill you!" he bellowed, tackling his handler to the ground.

Pierce just laughed as another scientist jabbed Bucky with a needle, dosing him with something strong enough to kill any other man but just enough to knock out a super soldier. Pierce stood up and dusted himself off as he watched Bucky go limp and be lifted back into his chair.

"I can see the fight in your eyes, Soldier," he taunted as he leaned into his face. "I know you really would kill me, if you could. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, right? But don't worry about your mate, we'll make it quick and painless. Hey, maybe beforehand me and a few of the other Alphas will show her a good time, poor thing's been without her mate for 70 years... I bet she's raring to go."

Bucky's arm twitched as his eyes started to fall shut, a tear falling down his blank and motionless face.

"Wipe him," Pierce instructed to the scientist, turning and walking away as the electric whirr of the machine charging up filled the room.

August 11th, 2014, 3:53 p.m., SHIELD headquarters

Steve was impressed with how accurate and imminent your prediction was; HYDRA was hot on your trail and desperate to eliminate the biggest threat to their Asset. Knowing they were coming made it easier, but it was still a brutal fight.

You and Steve tried to stay together, but they were smart, they used the perfect bait to lure you away.

"Tell me where he is," you demanded from the HYDRA agent as you held a blade to his neck, "then I'll kill you."

"Isn't it supposed to be 'or I'll kill you'?" he frowned.

You shook your head. "Not the way I operate."

Opposite to the reaction you were expecting, he grinned widely. "He's here."

Your heart stopped.

"On the roof. He's here to kill you."

You dropped the knife and ran straight for the stairwell, ascending them like they were nothing and calling out for your Alpha.

You found him there, waiting, gun trained on you. Raising your hands in surrender, you yelled to him again.

"Bucky," you called across the windy roof, eyes nearly blinded by the bright afternoon sun. "Alpha."

"I'm not who you think I am," he yelled back. "I'm not your Alpha."

It hurt to hear it in his voice, but you knew it wasn't him. Cautiously, you stepped closer. "Before you left, you told me you didn't want to mark me and leave me behind," you recalled. "But I wanted it. I wanted to be bonded to you more than I'd ever wanted anything."

He could clearly see you were coming closer, he even tightened his finger over the trigger of his weapon, but he was waiting. You kept walking to him, slowly.

"I've never regretted it," you continued, "not even when I thought you were dead, not even when I had to spent a lifetime-- more than that-- apart from you."

Finally you were face to face, and you stepped closer until his gun was pressed right into your chest.

"You can shoot me now and I still won't regret it," you promised. "I love you."

Shakily, he lowered his weapon. "Omega..." he breathed.

"Your Omega."

He pulled you into him and you sobbed as you felt him come to life in your arms-- the real him, your Alpha, your Bucky. He held you close and breathed against the top of your head and it was like a dream coming true decades after you'd forced yourself to let it go.

But you'd never given up. And now you had found him again.

Agents started to come onto the roof and Bucky spun the two of you around, firing with his right hand and using the left, metal arm as a shield for you.

He carried you and you didn't even know where he was taking you, but it didn't matter. In his arms, you were home.

August 12th, 1:03 a.m., Avengers compound, your quarters

You hadn't stopped coming or crying for at least an hour. Bucky had all but split you open on his knot all night and he didn't show any signs of stopping.

He apparently intended to make up for lost time. And you'd lost a lot of time.

"Just one more, I know you can give me one more," he groaned furiously rubbing your clit as his knot began to swell again.

You could give him anything, as long as he asked for it like that.

You'd lost count of how many times he'd told you to come for him, and how many times you did it immediately.

"I can see how full you are," he whispered as he rubbed your stomach gently. "So much seed in you that your body can't hold it all."

You looked down and yep, you were distinctly bloated from his come alone; it made you a little dizzy to even look at it.

"The idea of you alone during your heats, no one to protect you, it kills me," he explained with a growl. "I won't let you go again. I can't."

"Then don't," you sighed. "Never leave this bed, fill me with everything you have."

"Did anybody ever help you through them? The heats?" he asked. "I wouldn't blame you, they can be so painful... I just need to know so I can make sure you forget about them."

"No, Bucky, never— I never let anyone touch me."

"Steve could've helped you, at least some..."

"He wouldn't have, he loves you too much. And I wouldn't accept anything less than you, ever. You're my Alpha. We're bonded. There's never anyone else."

That didn't seem to satisfy him, his eyes darting away as he swallowed. Your gut sank with the realization he probably wasn't being totally honest about why he asked.

"Your ruts," you gasped. "Were you alone for all of them?"

He shut his lips tighter.

"Bucky, it's okay, just tell me. I was asleep for 70 years, I skipped most of them, but you... you had to live through them all."

"They gave me betas, and omegas," he mumbled, "but I don't... I don't really remember. I know they wanted me to. They threatened to hurt me if I didn't, because they knew I'd go crazy after so many ruts alone, but I can't remember if I really did it. I remember... I remember crying, and begging for you."

"Alpha," you breathed as you felt new tears run over the stains of your old ones. "It's okay. Whatever happened, it's okay now. We're together again. Everything's okay."

You wiped his tear away with your thumb, holding his face tightly, weaving your fingers into his long hair.

"I'll always be your Omega," you promised.

He leaned in closer to you, kissing your cheek before pulling back a little. "It's faded," he whispered as he ran his thumb over the mark on your neck. "The last time I saw it, it was still fresh."

"It's older, sure, but it's stronger than ever, Bucky."

August 14th, 10:12 a.m., Avengers compound, residential area kitchen

Steve's eyes went wide when he came into the kitchen for breakfast and found you there, steeping your tea. "Surprised to see you out of the love nest so soon," he smirked.

"It's been three days, I don't think that counts as soon," you scoffed.

"It does to him," Steve frowned. "He's asleep, isn't he?"

"Yep."

"I know he wouldn't let you out of his sights if he was conscious," Steve chuckled.

At that moment, you heard Bucky call your name and run out into the hall, only a bedsheet covering his groin as he appeared in the doorway. You spun around and smiled when you saw him come running towards you, embracing you with his free arm.

"You should've told me you were leaving, I got scared when I woke up without you," he admitted weakly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry!"

He pulled back and clutched your face in both his hands. "I'm waking up next to you every morning for the rest of my life, you understand?"

You nodded dutifully. "Yes, Alpha."

"One hand on the sheet, please, Buck?" Steve winced, looking away.

“Whoops,” Bucky groaned, reaching to cover himself as you laughed softly.

“Let’s go back to bed, baby,” you decided quietly, taking Bucky’s (free) hand in yours and waving goodbye to Steve, who was already making his way as far out of earshot as possible.

#alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader #alpha!bucky barnes smut

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gumnut-logic · 2 years

Photo

Two was so familiar it hurt.

One was his daydream, but Two was his reassurance.

Virgil didn’t say anything as he helped him through the corridors. A mop of black hair was his only sight as he looked down at the big man under his arm.

The shoulders supporting him were far broader than he remembered. It slowly began to sink in exactly how much he didn’t know. The uniform was familiar. The green baldric and kit. The tools were new and Jeff frowned at them as if to accuse them of betraying his faith in his knowledge. Why Virgil felt he had to carry a screwdriver around with him everywhere, he had no doubt his son could tell him if he asked.

But he didn’t.

They arrived at the room he expected and it was with some relief that it was what he expected.

It wasn’t until Virgil velcroed him to the bed that he saw the dent in the ceiling. “How did that happen?” It was out before he could think twice.

Virgil looked up from the tray of supplies that were not designed for an antigravity environment and frowned at the bulkhead above them.

“Oh, the exo-suit.”

“What was the exo-suit doing in here?”

Virgil pulled out a palm scanner and began a methodical examination. “Got myself trapped in it. Tried to get myself out. Didn’t go well.”

Jeff stared at the side of his son’s head, but didn’t ask the obvious question as Virgil stared at the hologram of a very battered old body above the bed.

Virgil’s hitched breath was the only sound in the room.

“I-I need to give you some supplements. A painkiller would probably be a good idea.”

“No, son. I can last a little longer. Need a clear head.”

Brown eyes caught his for just a moment before looking away. “There isn’t much else I can do until we get you to a hospital.” Virgil turned away, once again fiddling with equipment, unwrapping a hypodermic needle and fussing with a small bottle of liquid. “This is a basic dose of necessary vitamins and minerals.”

Virgil’s eyes were on anything but his father and the hologram above him.

Jeff reached over to one of the many patches on his suit and unwrapped the seal on his arm. “You’ll need to secure it again.”

His son blinked but said nothing, administering the dose to his father and rebinding his suit with tape. “We need to get you a new uniform.”

“It is enough for the moment, Virgil. We need to get back up top and get out of here.”

He saw the hesitation flicker across that longed-for face. “You’re lying down on one of the medbeds in the cockpit. You’re going to let the medscan finish so when we reach home, we have enough data to know what we have to do.”

Jeff eyed him. The changes were subtle. The confidence level was much stronger, more assured, despite the situation.

“Virgil, we need you up here.”

John’s voice would forever be music to his ears.

“FAB.” A swallow, and Jeff could see his son visibly gather himself. “C’mon, Dad. We have a rescue to complete.”

-o-o-o-

Thunderbird X (complete) & Thunderbird XL (wip)

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Jeff Tracy #Virgil Tracy #nuttyfic reblog

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quindolyn · 3 years

Note

can you write a james potter smut with a lot of choking, hair pulling and degradation :))

Patience Pays Off || James Potter

Word Count: 3834

A/N: I haven’t written in forever but this was for @randomoutsiders because it’s her birthday today. I know that I’m posting this after midnight her time but it’s still 9 here so I’m still celebrating Isa’s birthday. I love you baby. I’m still getting the hang of dom Jamie because in my head he’s my little sub and I have a hard time as seeing him as anything but the softest dom so this isn’t perfect

Warnings: rough sex, degradation, face slapping, spanking, dumbification, slapping reader’s tits, I think that’s it?

Masterlist

You were proud of yourself for making it through the entirety of the day without a major incident, since your first class of the day a fire had been burning in your belly, beginning as a mere flame before erupting into a blazing wildfire. Consuming you from the inside out.

The littlest thing made the fire burn hotter and brighter, the way James’ muscles flexed under his uniform as he walked through the hallways, shoulders back and arm around your waist like he owned the place.

You couldn’t help but whimper, catching a glimpse of his toned abdomen as he stretched his arms upwards, loosening himself up after being hunched over a desk all day. You felt your heart skip a beat in your chest watching his hand grip his quill, jotting down notes in his sloppy handwriting.

All you could think about was how many better things we could do with those hands, how wasted they were on Transfiguration.

You couldn’t bear the thought of having to sit through dinner, watching his hands flex as he shoveled food from his plate into his mouth, eyes trained on his lips as he licked them clean of the remnants of his meal. It sounded like hell, but when you’d tugged on his sleeve right before the two of you entered the Great Hall, murmuring into his shoulder about how you just wanted to go up to his dorm you’d been shot down.

Knowing why you were so desperate to escape up to his dorm James simply told you to be patient as he tugged you into the hall, quickly ushering you over to your usual seat with his best friends and roommates.

The whole endeavor had been just as hellish as it had sounded and by the time James was leading you up the stairs to his dorm, Remus and Sirius having disappeared to the Astronomy tower together.

As the door latched behind you you threw yourself at James’ chest, grappling for his shoulders as you smeared your forehead against his strong shoulder.

“Daddy,” You mewled, feeling your pussy throb at the very feeling of his body under your hands as you dug your fingers into his shoulders.

James’ deep chuckle sounded from above you and you could feel the vibrations against your head, “Someone’s needy,” His large hand reached up, his fingers combing through your hair before anchoring themselves up towards the root of your hair.

Using his hold on you he pulled your head backward so that you were forced to peer up at him, eyes wide and hazy from hours of being teased. Tears were beginning to well in your eyes as the sexual frustration of the day began to wash over you.

“M’not needy,” You whimpered, pushing yourself into him because even though you were pressed together it wasn’t enough. You needed more.

“No baby? Not needy?” He asked, cocking his head to the side as hazel eyes held yours, the very feeling of his eyes on you had you squirming.

“No Daddy, not needy,” You insisted.

What succeeded that was so abrupt that you almost didn’t register it but James lifted his hand, bringing it down against the side of your face, pulling a pathetic whine from you as the pain from his hand blossomed across your face. Instinctively you brought your hand up to soothe the warming flesh of your cheek but James caught your wrist before you could get too far.

“Don’t lie to me slut,” He growled, eyes darkening as he gazed down at you, said gaze hardening considerably,

“That hurt,” You sniffed but the boy paid you no mind.

“You’ve been needy for me all day, spent all of Charms hanging off my arm, ready to take my cock right there where everyone would’ve seen you. But you were too needy to even think about that.”

You felt shame pool in the pit of your belly at his statement, because no matter how much you’d try to deny it he was right. You would’ve let him take you right there if he wanted to. You could hear James’ voice ring through your head, Daddy’s needy girl.

“Am I wrong baby?” He asked almost like he could read your mind.

You shook your head but quickly remembered that you were to answer him verbally, “No Daddy, you’re not wrong.”

“There we go,” He cooed, bringing his thumb to the seal of your lips before pushing past it and letting his thumb rest against the flat of your tongue. You began sucking on the digit the second it landed on your tongue, humming around his finger as your eyes fluttered closed.

“Eyes open,” Your eyes were startled open as his rough fingers pinched at your clothed nipple through your uniform top and bra.

James was silent as he let his eyes drag over your form, face open and pleading, your chest was heaving from the effort it took not to collapse onto the floor, your legs looking like they were about to buckle as your trembling knees knocked against each other.

“Were you horny all day baby?” He wondered as though the idea had just dawned on him.

You nodded, James' finger still lodged in your mouth before he slipped it out, wiping it clean not on his clothes but the material of your skirt.

“On the bed bunny, and get all these pesky clothes off, I want my pretty whore naked for me.”

You scrambled to comply with his command, fingers clumsily pulling buttons through their respective holes before shrugging the garment off your shoulders allowing it to land somewhere on the floor around you. Your bra quickly followed and having already shed your footwear that left you only in the uniform skirt that had ridden up your thighs to the point where it was useless, barely even covering your panty clad pussy much less your ass.

You didn’t dare glimpse up at James to silently plead for help, knowing it would only ensure more mocking and teasing and you weren’t quite sure if you would be able to stand it. Instead, you stayed struggling with the difficult clasp at the top of the skirt’s zipper, slippery fingers struggling with the small hook.

“What? Can’t get it undone pretty baby?” James asked you from where he stood at the foot of the bed, you stood to the left of the mattress, brows furrowed as your head was dropped to examine the hook.

Your eyes flashed upwards, meeting James’ lust clouded gaze, hazel eyes trained on your face, he was doing little, if anything, to mask the sly smirk forming on his face from watching you fumble uselessly.

“It’s hard,” You insisted, quickly returning your eyes to the task at hand.

“I’m sure it is when you’re a dumb baby.”

“M’not dumb!” You raised your head in indignation, glaring at the boy who stood there as cockily as ever.

“What was that?” His tone was harder than it had been mere seconds ago, the cocky smile slipping from his lips, “Who do you think you are, talking back?”

“You called me dumb Daddy,” You mumbled pathetically, casting your head down as the boy approached you, meeting your smaller figure in only a few strides, “And m’not,” Your voice stalled as your eyes lifted to meet the somber look on James’ face, “M’not dumb.”

James’ following silence was worse than any physical punishment he could dole out to you, the longer you stood there, eyes locked on James’, the louder your heartbeat became in your head.

“Not dumb, huh? Then why is your skirt still fucking on? Did I say you could stop?”

At his words, your eyes dropped back down to the clasp where you found your fingers had stilled, almost shaking due to the intensity of his stare but no longer working on the task you’d been assigned.

Your fingers began to twitch again, trying to figure out the complicated clasp (though it was really only complicated thanks to the fog that had seemed to settle over your mind) but before you could make any progress the piece of fabric was torn from your waist with a force that had you reeling.

You could barely register the stinging along the skin of your waist and hips, all you knew was that there was a rush of slick flooding your pussy at James’ impressive show of strength.

“Fucking useless,” The dark haired boy murmured, “Have to do everything myself.” As the words tumbled from his lips his large hands found the mounds of your breasts, squeezing them to the precipice where pain overrode pleasure.

It took everything you had in you to not let your head tip back at the stimulation and let out the most pathetic whine. Knowing James would only use it as fuel was the only thing that kept you contained.

“Can get your panties off can’t you?” His right hand trailed down your form before encountering the waistband of said underwear, slipping a finger underneath it to pull the strap away from your hip before letting go and letting it snap back against your skin.

The contact stung but not enough for you to argue it with him, having wanted him all day you needed him, and you needed him now. Not even the wanting to voice your disdain for his action was going to get in the way of that.

“Yes, Daddy,” You murmured obediently, sliding the panties down your hips before stepping out of them. A swift pat on the ass had you scampering onto the bed where you positioned yourself on your knees, hands clasped in your lap as you awaited James’ instruction

“Look at you,” The brunette muttered, a strong finger catching under the curve of your chin and using it to direct your visage upwards towards his, “On your knees for me like you know you’re supposed to be.”

“S’because I’m your good girl,” You mewled, trying to lean into James’ touch, seeking the comfort that came with it but sensing your intentions James quickly pulled his hand back, leaving you desperate for him to touch you.

Your thirst for said touch was quickly satisfied when he gripped your jaw in his hand, pushing your cheeks together, your lips forced out into a pout. You were sure that the grip he had on you was melding bruises into the side of your voice but you couldn’t summon the energy to care.

You were embarrassed to admit that the rough hold James had on you sent a tingle down your spine, a familiar throbbing in your pussy.

“Gonna see how good for me you can actually be,” With those words James pushed your shoulders back onto the bed where you landed with a soft thud, straightening out your legs so that James could grab ahold of your ankles and wind them around his waist, pulling closer to you to trail his lips up the length of your torso. Leaving sloppy open mouthed kisses until he came to your tits, pinching each nipple between his fingers.

He delighted in the little whine you let out at that, using it as an invitation to roll the rosy buds between his fingers before palming your breasts, his large hands engulfing them. James groped the flesh before releasing your tits from his hold, an involuntary whimper leaving your lips at the lack of stimulation before he brought the palms of his hands down against them, smacking them harder than he had your face.

“Fuck,” You breathed, attempting to clench your thighs together but met by the resistance of James’ hips positioned between them.

“Watch your mouth,” James scolded absentmindedly as he returned his mouth to your body, sucking hues of yellow and blue and purple into the soft skin before soothing the marks with his tongue. This gentle touch immediately followed by him nipping harshly at the forming bruises was jarring, jarring enough to have you bucking up into his hips.

“Daddy please,” You’d had enough of the teasing touches and mocking smiles, you’d had enough of it all except for the one thing you really needed, his cock.

“Use your words slut, tell me what you want.”

“Want you please, want your cock. Need it so bad Daddy, so so bad,” You begged unabashedly, scratching your fingernails along his shoulder blades as you tried to pull him closer and closer to you.

“Desperate little cockwhore, want my cock so badly,” James grinned as he pushed himself off both you and the bed, peering down at your frame as he made quick work of the belt of his buckle. The clinking of metal was music to your ears and enough to have you propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he disrobed, shedding his clothes faster than any human reasonably should be able to.

Your mouth dropped open as James shed his last piece of clothing, inching his boxers down his muscled thighs until the length of his cock was able to pop out, escaping the restraints of the underwear.

Though he hadn’t been letting on, his prick was all you needed to see to know he was as turned on as you were, just much better at hiding it. A good 8 inches in length his cock stood proud and tall, already engorged with blood the tip was a pretty rose color that seemed to be darkening by the second and you couldn’t help but lick your lips at the very sight of it.

James took immense pleasure in watching your face as he worked his fist up and down his length, relishing in the way your eyes darkened considerably every time the head poked out the top of his fist.

“Hands and knees for me pretty slut,” You pushed yourself into the requested position, arching your back like you knew James would want you to, making sure to push your ass as far up into the air as possible.

You inhaled sharply as you felt the mattress shift, knowing that it was James settling in behind you you felt your pulse speed up, the anticipation was palpable as James smeared the leaking head of his cock over the globes of your ass.

“My whore, letting me rub my cock on her ass, making her all sticky and messy,” James punctuated his remark with a slap to your ass, though not the first time his hands had come down against you that night it for certain came with the most force behind it. You jolted forward at the impact before quickly sliding back into your position.

You could feel the blood rushing to your ass as it warmed under James’ hand which was now rubbing the afflicted area in attempts to soothe the skin. All efforts were in vain though when the hand was drawn back once again and brought down on almost the exact same spot.

This time he managed to pull a strangled gasp from you, the pain only contributing to the heat beginning to boil in the pit of your belly.

“Please,” You whined, arching your back even more and pushing your ass up against James, needing for him to relent and fill you up like you knew he could, “I’m done being patient I just need you.”

“Like you were ever patient, to begin with.”

“I was, I spent all day waiting for you to get up so you could fuck me and-”

Your bratty words had gotten you just what you wanted, James cut you off mid sentence as he pushed his cock into you, not even easing himself in he simply impaled you on his member. Hands found your hips and pulled you back to meet his so that your ass was still high in the air and he could be as deep inside of you as possible.

“Happy now you fucking cockslut? Happy now that Daddy’s fucking his pretty pussy?”

“Y-yes Daddy, your pussy” You stuttered out as the force of James’ thrusts dropped you down from your hands to your elbows, your hair tumbling in front of your face and effectively obscuring your vision.

This issue was quickly fixed as you felt James tug you up by your hair, using it to stabilize himself as he thrusted in and out of your ribbed walls. The friction his movement provided felt incredible, accompanied by the feeling of being full of his cock had the pleasure in your belly continuing to simmer.

If the distinctly wet sound of your pussy was any indicator you were absolutely soaked, James’ rough handling of you only reminding you how big and strong your boyfriend really was, how if he wanted to he could break you.

The pleasure in your belly was building quickly, with every sound of skin slapping against skin you felt your pussy ache, no matter that you were already stuffed full of his cock already. You needed more, you always needed more of him.

“Slutty bunny,” James grunted as he planted his hands on your hips to hold you into place as he lifted his hips, able to reach deeper and deeper inside of you, “Such a whore for my cock, drooling over me all day. Is this what you wanted baby? Wanted Daddy to fuck you?”

“Yes! S’what I wanted, feels so good.”

“Of course it does, cock sluts just need to be full of Daddy’s cock, is that what you want bunny?”

“Yes, Daddy!” You screamed as you felt yourself being pushed further and further towards the edge of orgasm. Dancing dangerously close to the precipice of pleasure, so close you risked cumming without permission, and after hours and hours of desperation, you couldn’t afford to disappoint him.

“Can feel you clenching around me slutty girl, you feel so fucking good around me, it’s like you were made for my cock.”

“I was Daddy, was made for your cock,” You were ready to say anything you needed to in order to get James’ permission to cum. Having abandoned all embarrassment, all shame, you didn’t care how much of a fool you’d make of yourself you just needed to cum.

“That’s right slutty baby, you wanna cum? You wanna cum for Daddy?”

His offer was enough to have you squealing if you weren’t gasping for breath with every powerful thrust, but you summoned the breath from within you to speak just a few simple words, “Yes please, wanna cum, let me cum please Daddy, have needed to cum all day I need it I need it please.”

Taking pity on you due to the desperation conveyed through your words James grunted his assent as he continued pistoning in and out of you. Eyes clenched as he felt your walls spasm around him, not wanting to cum quite yet.

You released a string of curses as you allowed yourself to tip over the edge of pleasure, putting up no resistance as it swallowed you in your entirety. You felt warmth rush through your every nerve as you became painfully aware of every sound and texture around you.

The sounds of James’ low moans, the feeling of the silky sheets against your swaying breasts, the heat that emanated from your partner’s palms which had found sanctuary on the small of your back. It was like it was all sharpened to maximize the pleasure already coursing through your body, the feeling of James still moving in and out of you was intoxicating as your vision began to white over.

The briefly sharpened senses faded, the noise in the room seemed to quiet to a low hum as you came down from your orgasm. But relief wasn’t what you were met with, instead it was James, still buried balls deep inside of you, allowing you to ride out your orgasm completely around his cock.

“Made such a fucking mess,” To prove his point James’ fingers dipped into the slick that had gathered at the apex of your thighs. Bringing the cum covered hand up he swiped the wetness off onto your back, adoring the way you looked covered in your own release.

“Thank you, Daddy,” You blubbered, “Thank you for letting me cum.”

“Not quite done bunny,” James expertly flipped you from your knees onto your back, eyes watching hungrily as your tits bounced, nipples still hard from him playing with them earlier, “Daddy hasn’t cum yet, thinking I’m gonna cum on your pretty tits, look so hot when they bounce for me.”

Once you were settled in on your back James resumed his movements in and out of your cunt, he too was quickly approaching his release and the feeling of you around him was absolutely heavenly.

“So fucked out for me baby,” James grunted as his right hand found your throat, long fingers curling around your neck easily before squeezing lightly, watching the way your eyes went wide, “Stupid slut’s dumb on my cock. Giving you what you asked for and you’re too dumb to even try to work for it, I’ve gotta do all the work.”

You whined out at his degradation, squirming underneath him as his assault on your cunt overstimulated you to the brink of a second orgasm.

“G-gonna cum again Daddy,” You warned him, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure overwhelmed each of your senses. Even the room reeked of sex.

“Are you there baby? Gonna cum twice before Daddy’s even cum once, greedy little thing,” James squeezed harder on your throat to the point where your mind became even fuzzier and a new sort of cloud settled over your mind. Just as the fuzz was beginning to get to be too much he released his hold on your throat.

Feeling himself approach orgasm James pulled out of your pussy, his hand quickly finding his cock and pumping it up and down as quickly as his wrist would allow him.

“Gonna cum on your tits baby, gonna cum all over your titties,” He moaned as he straddled your waist, continuing to work his cock in his hand.

“Fuck, m’gonna cum,” You closed your eyes as rope after rope of hot, white cum was shot across your tits, a few landing higher up on your body decorating your neck and one even reaching the side of your cheek.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl.”

You whined as the cum decorated your skin, making you even more pathetic looking than you already were.

“My slutty baby looks so pretty covered in my cum,” James smirked, collecting a line of cum off your chest on his finger before bringing the digit to your already parted lips. You dutifully sucked the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it before he pulled it from the warm cavity.

“M’not slutty,” You insisted.

“No? What kinda good girl lets her Daddy cum all over her then?”

You were silent, too gone to even begin to pick that fight.

“That’s right like I said, you’re my dumb slut.”

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bakugosbratx · 3 years

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NSFW 18+ The Assistant— AU Levi Ackerman x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ Content. Smut, degrading, cursing, punishment, dom levi, sub reader, bondage, bdsm, some angst, toxic relationship, spanking, cheating, etc.

Words: 3, 673

Check out my other works here

A/N: Me and my irl moot @idfkwtfgof came up with this idea so I decided to write it out. Enjoy this fifty shades of gray moment. I’ve been working on this for over a month 🙃 I’m sorry it took me forever.

Tags: @idfkwtfgof @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie

You take a deep breath as you approached the double doors in front of you. Your heart pounded against your rib cage. The silent hallways seemed to be echoing the thumps. Anyone in your position would be nervous too if they had to meet with the CEO of the Ackerman Industries. He was not one to enjoy much company nor request it. His gaze alone could intimidate the strongest of people and you are no different.

Fist resting on the wooden door in front of you, you hesitate, but close your eyes and knock anyway. You did not hear a response as you patiently wait. Instead, the door swings open to be met with the CEO himself, Levi Ackerman. Not a word was spoken, but he ushered you inside his huge office.

Scurrying, you slightly jump as you heard the huge door slam. You are in Levi’s office. Only businessmen and women are allowed in here. You feel not even worthy to be stepping on the same floor these successful people walk on. It could also be the fact that the office seemed spotless. For someone as busy as the CEO, he sure did know how to make a stack of papers seem neat in a stack.

“Sit.” Levi instructed as he strolled over to his desk chair and doing the said action. You looked around the room. Behind Levi is a wall of windows to overlook the city of New York. His desk his a beautiful dark brown that was so clean that you could see your reflection. Along with seeing your reflection, you can see —and feel— Levi starring at you. Meeting his silver orbs, you gulp.

“Do you know why I called you in here, Y/N?” Levi questioned, his tone remaining calm as always. Somehow, this intimidated you even more.

“No, sir, I don’t.” You admit. In all honesty, you are not sure why Levi called you into his office. He waited until almost everyone has gone home for the evening to set up this meeting. You have felt nauseous all day about it. Receiving an email from the CEO was enough to make anyone’s breath hitch, but to have a meeting — alone — with him is enough to make one soil themselves.

“I want to offer you a promotion,” Levi explained, his gaze hardening. “That is, if you want it?”

This is way better news than you expected. Levi has employees for a reason. He always calls the shots since it is his million dollar company, but why get his hands dirty when he can pay people to do it for him? Since no one is allowed in his office without special permission, this seemed a bit off.

“What does the job intel?”

“Well, my company is expanding even larger than anticipated this year. I need a personal assistant. Examining the work you have put in over the years, I decided you are cut out for the job. What do you say?”

You take a moment to contemplate his words. The offer is amazing and would definitely look great on your resume, but working so close to the CEO of the company is quite intimidating. Any bad habits you have developed better end swiftly or else it’s your job on the line. Levi is not afraid to terminate anyone not fit for the job.

“I’ll take it.” You smile, the words flowing out before you could even think any further.

“You start tomorrow. I expect you in my office 8am sharp. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re dismissed.”

Standing up, you straighten out your black pencil skirt and head your way towards the door. Levi’s eyes did not once leave your figure. The way you naturally sway your hips as you walk and the way the skirt hugged your hips just right. His eyes are enjoying the desires most men have yet when you turned to look over your shoulder, his eyes where focused on his paperwork.

You went home that night, excited to tell your significant other about your promotion. He did not even blink an eye in your direction. Instead, he is pissed that you are home later than normal.

“Babe—“

“Where the hell have you been?” He hissed.

“I-I was called into the CEO’s office. I got a promotion!” You stammered, nervous under your boyfriend’s glare. He always made you feel small and his anger tends to send you over the edge. This is one of those many times.

“Why would he have you in there this late? Do you think I’m really that fucking stupid?” He scoffed, shaking his head.

“Babe, I’m being serious. I would never lie to you.” You argued.

“And how do I know that?” He countered. “How am I certain that you aren’t cheating on me? Or even hurt? Are your damn thumbs broken, Y/N? Can’t keep me updated ‘bout what’s going on? I was worried sick about you.”

You let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, babe. I’ll do better.”

Your boyfriend walked over to you, embracing your body into a tight hug. You had so much more to say, but to prevent any further escalation of an argument, you apologized and kept your mouth shut.

The next morning arrived. You woke up extra early to have time to do your hair and makeup, dressed in your nicest attire, and wear the most expensive of jewelry. Since you are going to be around the CEO for now on, you cannot show up to work appearing sluggish. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror, your boyfriend leaning against the doorframe.

“Dressed quite nicely, huh?” He spoke, meeting your eyes through the mirror. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat.

“I have to be.”

He stayed silent for a moment, his orbs tracing your figure. He hated when you showed confidence. It killed him inside and knowing that other men saw your beauty as well made his blood boil. He just has to ruin it.

“For the circus? Your makeup looks awful and your hair is tremendous.” He scoffed.

You bit your bottom lip. Tears welled in your eyes, but you prevented them from falling. You refuse to let him ruin your confidence. You are a strong woman and his insecurities shouldn’t be placed upon you. It is not your baggage to carry.

You meet his eyes again through the mirror. You feel your confidence crumble beneath you, but you remain strong. Turning around, you brush past him as you stroll out of the bathroom. You ignored him calling your name and demanding you to return. All he could do is watch as you left without even saying goodbye.

You arrived to the business earlier than expected. You have checked your hair and makeup more than once in the car review mirror. You are not necessarily even wanting Levi’s approval, — though he is quite handsome — you just want to look presentable. He is your boss, after all. He is not afraid to fire anyone on the spot. You are no exception.

Inhaling a sharp breath, you knock on Levi’s office door. You hear his approval to come inside and welcome yourself inside. You were not even receive a glance as you closed the door behind you. Levi’s gray orbs never left his monitor screen. You gulp nervously as you proceed towards his desk.

“I stopped to get some coffee. I brought you a tea,” you lay his cup on his desk, “just how you like it.”

He nods, still typing away. This did not help your anxiety at all. Is he regretting his decision making you his assistant? Are you disturbing him? Is he contemplating firing you? Your stomach turned at the thought.

The sound of the printer disturbed your nuisance thoughts. Levi grabbed the piece of paper and placed it on top of a neat stack. He stands up, finally looking at you.

“I have a meeting to attend to in an hour. I need these documents assorted in alphabetical order before then.”

Your eyes fall to the tall stack of papers. You definitely need more than an hour to get through them all. By Levi’s facial expression, you knew he was serious. Levi always looked serious.

“Yes, sir,” you grab the stack and meet his a gaze again, “I’ll get it done swiftly.”

“Good. I’m counting on you. Sit over there.” He orders, glancing at the couches and coffee table in the middle of his office. Maybe it is just your nerves, but his workspace seems bigger than remembered. This did not help your anxiety.

You began getting to work. You thought you are doing well on time, but time seemed to have passed you by. Levi is now towering over you, his unsatisfied silver orbs glaring down at you. You hesitate, but force yourself to meet them.

“Thought you said you would have this done?” Levi recalls.

“I-I’m really sorry, s-sir.” You stammered, expecting the worse.

“Sorry doesn’t sort the papers, Y/N.” He scolds, his silver eyes only being shown through slits.

“I—“

“We will discuss this after my meeting. Until then, I want my office spotless.” Levi continues, cutting you off. He begins walking towards the door and pauses once he reaches for the handle. “Oh and Y/N?”

You look up, meeting the CEO’s annoyed orbs. “Yes, sir?”

“You’re on strike one.” Levi warns. You did not even have a chance to ask questions as his office door slams shut behind him, leaving you alone to sulk in your thoughts.

You tidied up Levi’s office like he requested of you. Every paper went into its appropriate home, cushions are straightened out, rug is vacuumed, and you are currently dusting. This man is a clean freak by nature so there was not much to do. Still, your nerves were pulsating. This is only day one and you are not on Levi’s good side. You are becoming worrisome as your job is now potentially on the line.

The door opening made you jump. You can feel Levi’s silver orbs on you as you dust his bookshelf. He did not disturb you, though, as he proceeded towards his desk and went to work like nothing happened. Curiosity is begging you to speak, but you remain silent and complete your task.

You gather the cleaning supplies and place them back into the small closet. Returning on the guest side of Levi’s desk, he does not even look up from his monitor.

“I’m finished cleaning, sir.”

Levi did not say anything. Instead, he stood up and went to the window. His fingers grazed along the exterior which collected dust on the tips. He studied it for a moment. Your heart stopped as your breath hitched. You did not mean to forget the windows, but they look so clean already. They truly do not need much more cleaning.

“Seems like you missed a spot.” He remarks, turning to face you.

“I-I’m so sorry, sir. I thought—“

“Your cleaning is lamentable. Back to dusting. Now.” He demands, cleaning the dust off of his fingers with his handkerchief.

“Yes, sir.” You reply, gathering the cleaning supplies once again. You sprayed the windows and clean every inch of them until lunch time. Levi was sure to inspect your work before releasing you to go get something to eat.

“You’re dismissed.” He finally speaks. You are quick to collect your belongings leave his office. You stroll the long hallway to the elevator. You are finally alone with your thoughts and honestly, they were overwhelming. This job is very nerve racking and it’s only your first day. You are not making the best of impressions on your boss.

Digging in your purse, you check your cellphone. You have several missed calls and texts from your significant other. A pit in your stomach began to drown your appetite. You know this is going to cause a major fight between you two. A fight you did not want to participate in.

Reluctantly, you call your boyfriend back. He picks up on the second ring.

“Where the fuck have you been?” He hissed, sending chills down your spine. The elevator doors open and you head towards the cafeteria.

“Working. I can’t be on my phone while I’m—“

“So work is more important than me?” He interrupts.

“What? No. That’s not it at all.” You argued, picking up a bag of chips and a drink from the dispensers before checking out.

“Then answer my damn calls, Y/N!”

“I can’t when I’m at work!” You exclaimed. You hand the cashier money before mouthing the words ‘thank you.’ She gave you a worried look, but you disregarded it. This is not the first time that have heard a heated conversation between you and your boyfriend.

You go find an empty table to eat by yourself. The bickering between your boyfriend did not end on a good note as the other line went dead. You slammed your phone back into your purse and forced yourself to eat your chips. You did not even want them. Your relationship is falling through the cracks, you are failing at your job, and you are on the verge of losing what is left of your sanity.

Time really slipped away while you fumed in anger because you are now late to returning to Levi’s office. Tears prickled in your eyes. This is not good at all. Levi is going to be furious. Even possibly firing you.

You raced to his office. You did not even take the elevator as it will take far too long to get to his office. You are panting by the time you arrive and sweat droplets formed at the top of your forehead. Your hands began to shake as your hand rested on the handle. You need to go in there, but your body did not want to move. Your boyfriend is already pissed. You did not want to deal with your furious boss.

Sighing, you forced yourself to go inside. “I am so sorry.” You blurt out as you enter inside. Levi is giving you a disapproving look.

“Take a seat, Y/N. We need to have a talk.”

Following your boss’ orders, you sit in the chair parallel to his. You begin to tremble as you expect the worse. Levi’s glare does not help you feel any less uneasy either. His silver orbs are staring deep into your soul and making you feel small.

“You know you’re on strike three.” Levi begins. You gulp.

“I know, sir. I’m very sorry. I’ll accept any punishment you have in mind for me.” You sigh, trying to remain brave. Levi can see right through it, though. His gaze hardens and he makes his way around to your side of the desk. He folds his arms but does not remove his gaze from you once.

“What punishment do you think you deserve?” Levi ask, hoping you have the same answer in mind as him.

“I-I’m not sure. I’ll take anything. It’s what I deserve.” You admit, a flustered feeling coming across you. Levi studied your features, clicking his tongue.

“Bend over the desk.”

“What?” You whispered, not sure if you heard your boss correctly. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. His intimidating glare pierced through you.

“Talking to that lame ass boyfriend of yours must have you goin deaf. I said bend over my desk.” Levi instructs, letting go of your chin once you catch his drift. You do as your told, bending over his desk. You are uncertain what he is planning to do, but the removal of your skirt gave you a pretty good idea. Your cheeks felt hot as your bare ass is now exposed to Levi’s viewing.

“Lace panties, huh? You planned on being put in this position later?” Levi chuckles, his digits playing with the strap of your thong. You bit your bottom lip, not knowing what to say. A hard smack to your bare ass caused you to release a moan.

“I asked you a question. It’s only polite to answer, brat.”

“Yes. It was for my boyfriend.” You confess in embarrassment for more reasons than one.

“Oh, I see. Your toxic little relationship is in need of fixing, but the only thing you have to offer is your pretty little pussy.” Levi analyzes, rubbing his hand on your ass before delivering another slap. You wince in pain, but you mentally screamed for more. You wanted Levi to continue spanking you.

“That’s not it, sir.” You mumbled. His hand landed down on your sore ass once more while the other hand finds refuge in your hair. He pulls it, tightly, bending your head back.

“What really gets me is this mouth of yours. I suggest you use it to tell the truth before I stuff it.” Levi growls lowly in your ear, letting go of your hair to return behind you.

Another slap was delivered. Little melodies of moans escaped your lips that you attempted to conceal. Levi did not comment on it as he proceed with the punishment. Your cunt dripped with your slick. It is begging to be touched, fucked, anything Levi desires really.

A few slaps and a very red ass later, Levi’s digits founder their way inside your soaked cunt. “Someone enjoyed themselves, hm?” He teased, curling his fingers in you. You shuffle a bit, enjoying the sensation he is giving you. The removal of his fingers made you whine in a needy tone.

“I did, Levi. Please fuck me.” You cry, wanting his cock already. He chuckled at your begging, his hand rubbing your red ass then hitting it again.

“On your knees. Now.” Levi demands. You happily oblige before him. He pats your head in approval. “Good girl. You do know how to listen.”

Levi begins unbuckling his black belt. You are practically foaming at the mouth as he slides the leather out of each loop. He sets it on the desk before proceeding to unbuckle his pants, releasing his hard cock for you to pleasure. Your eyes light up at the sight. The tip of his erection is at your lips, ready for you to move forward. Your tongue teases his sensitive head before you let each inch slide in-and-out of your saliva filled mouth.

“Yeah, like that, baby.” Levi praises as you deep throat his length. You choke some, but continue taking all of his cock. Your tongue spends time playing with the veins in his cock while his head relaxes in your throat.

“The cock hungry slut having a hard time deep throating all my cock?” Levi mocks as you pull it out to catch your breath. A string of saliva connected your lips and his cock together as your lust filled orbs met his.

“Not a chance.” You grin, placing his dick back in your mouth. Levi groans in delight as you repeat the same patterns as before. His cock twitches inside your mouth as pre-cum leaks from the tip and down your throat. You gladly swallow it as his cock becomes overwhelmed, releasing his semen onto your tongue. Not a drop was spilled as you milked his cock for all he had to offer.

Pulling away, Levi praises you again. “Such a good little slut you are. Time we give your pussy some attention, huh?”

“Yes, please, sir.” You beg, eagerly. He taps his desk.

“Bend over my desk.” He commands. Following orders, you bend over his desk like before. You arched your back so your ass and pussy is more accessible for Levi. He spreads your legs out more so your weeping cunt is fully exposed. The cold air sent chills down your spine. Levi is already hard again as he stares at your pussy.

Aligning himself, the tip of his cock enters your dripping hole, sliding in perfectly. You moan as he thrust a rough rhythm. His hips slap against your ass and his hands cling onto your hips. You tightly hang onto his desk as he pick up the pace. You sob out pleas for more.

“Better quiet down. Don’t want your coworkers hearing me fuck you like the whore you are now do we?”

You did not even care. You wanted Levi and you wanted him bad. Groans and profanities filled the room from you two as Levi hits all the right spots. You babble incoherent sentences as you start to climax again on Levi’s girth. Your walls clenched on his size and released when he re-enters himself. This does not stop Levi, though, as he chases after his own high.

“Already cumming again, slut?” Levi teases as he is slowly losing himself inside you. He hit your ass again while his dick twitches. “Ask permission next time.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You cry out, not wanting him to stop. He pulls on your hair again, bending down to whisper in your ear.

“I’m going to fill you up so much that you have to hide it from your boyfriend.”

“Please Levi.” You beg, not even caring anymore. You wanted Levi. You have wanted him for a long time and the feeling is mutual on his end. That is why he hired you, after all.

Levi’s cock could not withstand the pressure anymore. Releasing into the depths of your cunt, he huffs profanities as every drop enters inside of you. You gladly take it as you breathe heavily. He finally pulls out, leaving you a cum filled mess. Giving your ass a gentle tap so you will get up.

“You are dismissed for the day.” Levi grumbled as he situated himself and you did the same. You straightened out your outfit and fixed your hair. You will fix your makeup in the restroom. You proceeded to exit your boss’ office when he called out to you. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?” You purred, looking over your shoulder.

“Let your boyfriend know you’re my slut now.”

©bakugosbratx

#bratx request #bratx writes #levi ackerman #levi smut #levi ackerman smut #daddy ackerman #snk levi #snk anime #aot smut #aot x reader #aot requests #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #levi x y/n #levi x fem!reader #attack on titan #aot imagines

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watchyourbluesturngolden · 3 years

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all this time

omg so i have not written in forever but then the bestie @goldensonlyangel did a writing challenge (CONGRATS ON 800!!!!!!!!!) and i got inspired so here we are :) I know it's not super long but i like how it turned out!!!

as always, if you don't like the dress i linked, just imagine something else! that's just the visual I had in mind :)

warnings: none

word count: 1.8k

"Macy, I don't have anything to wear," you sighed, holding the phone between your ear and shoulder as you poured a bowl of cereal. "You can borrow one of mine! Or i will literally buy you one. I'll do whatever it takes, you have to come!" "Why?" You whined. "I always feel so awkward. You know I love you, but everyone couples off and it's just weird." "But Harry's going to be there," she crooned, and you had never been more grateful that she couldn't see your face. Your face that was currently flaming hot at just the mention of him.

"I don't care," you lied. "He clearly doesn't like me, so I don't even want to try anymore." "You're wrong," she insisted. "We can all tell he has the biggest crush on you." "I don't think so," you said, even though your heart was fluttering at the idea. "Okay, I'll come. But you have to go shopping with me." "Of course!" She exclaimed. "Can we go right now?" "Give me an hour, and then I'll come pick you up."

-----

"How about this?" Macy asked, holding up the shortest dress you had ever seen. "That's basically just a shirt," you rolled your eyes. "Harry would love it," she grinned. "Harry won't care, because he doesn't like me," you said, trying to keep your voice level. You told yourself a long time ago that there was no point in getting your hopes up about him. You could never have him, so why hurt your own feelings? She shook her head, but seemed to get the hint that she should drop it for now. She pulled another dress off the rack, this time one that was much more your style. Your eyes lit up at her selection. "I like that one," you nodded. "I think it would look really good."

-----

"You look amazing!" She beamed, pulling you out of the changing room to stand in front of the full length mirrors. You couldn't help the smile that grew on your lips as you examined yourself in the mirror. "I do," you agreed. "Harry- I mean, everyone's going to love it," she said, blushing slightly at her slip up. You had to give her credit: she didn't give up easily.

-----

"You're here!!!" Macy screamed, rushing to the door and pulling you into a hug. "Of course I'm here!" you said, trying to match her energy. It wasn't an easy task; she had clearly had quite a few drinks tonight. She pulled away, holding you at arm's length to inspect your dress. "And you look amazing," she grinned. "Who helped you pick out that dress???" You smiled, shaking your head lightly. "I need a drink," you said, pulling back a bit more. "Of course!" she chirped. "Everything's set up in the kitchen. If you need anything else just find me!" Then she was off, pushing through the small crowd of people and right into the middle of the living room turned dance floor. You made your way to the kitchen, deciding you were much too sober to join her. You pushed open the door, hoping you would maybe see Bella, or Charlie, or any of the other girls you hadn't had the chance to catch up with lately. Instead, you ran directly into a broad chest belonging to none other than Harry, the man you'd had an unrequited crush on for years. "Oh- I'm so sorry!" you rushed out, grasping at the front of his shirt to steady yourself. He gasped slightly, reflexively gripping onto your arms to keep you from toppling over. "You alright?" he asked with a small smile. "I'm fine," you said, keeping your eyes on his chest as your face heated up to an almost painful degree. "Sure?" He asked one more time, ducking his head to meet your eyes. "I'm good," you said with a nervous laugh. "You can, um-" you glanced down to where his hands were still on your arms. "Oh!" He exclaimed, eyes going wide as he realized he was still holding onto you. "Sorry," he said, a faint blush tingeing his cheeks as he stepped back. "No, it's okay," you said quickly, not wanting him to feel bad. "I'm just- I'm gonna get a drink." He laughed, running a ringed hand through his hair. "Good idea. I think I need one too." He moved to stand next to you as you browsed the large selection of alcohol on Macy's table. "I think she might have a problem," you joked. "We might need to stage an intervention," he nodded very seriously before his face broke into a smile. "But," you said, reaching for a bottle of tequila, "She keeps us stocked for parties, so I can't bring myself to care too much." "Agreed," he grinned, reaching for the vodka. There were a few moments of silence as the two of you poured your drinks, and then Harry spoke again. "You look lovely tonight." His voice was soft, and he sounded almost nervous. "Thank you," you smiled. "I'll be honest, I didn't really want to come. Macy said I had to." "For once, I'm glad she's so pushy," he laughed lightly. "If she wasn't, I wouldn't have gotten to see you." Your heart sped up at his words, and it took you a second to fully process what he had just said. "I'm glad too," you said softly. "Why, um..." He cleared his throat before speaking again. "Why didn't you want to come?" "It's always just a little weird, you know?" you said, keeping your eyes on the drink in your hand. "Everyone pairs off by the end of the night and I kind of feel like a... seventeenth wheel." "I know what you mean," he nodded. "Like, I'm happy all our friends have found love, or whatever, but I also hate them juuuust a little bit." He pinched his fingers close together, squinting at you through the tiny gap. "Just this much." "Well, I'm glad it's only that much," you laughed. "But wait, since when are you not part of a couple? I thought you were with Ellie?" "No, we were never really together," he said, looking down at his drink as you had earlier. "I mean, I liked her, but apparently she didn't feel the same. She went off with Paul." "Oh," you said quietly, not sure how to respond to that. "Paul. What a skank." "Such a skank," he agreed, breaking into a laugh again. The warm feeling in your chest was probably partly from the alcohol, but you knew it was mostly Harry. Seeing him so happy, being the one who made him laugh... there was no better feeling. The two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence again,

sipping on your drinks every so often. By the time you finished, the music from the other room had quieted considerably. It was now a slow song, and you had no doubt that when you left the safety of the kitchen, you would find couples wrapped up in each other, too in love to care about anyone else. Just the idea of it was enough to kill your slight buzz, and you sighed involuntarily. Harry didn't appear to notice. He seemed to be deep in his own head, thinking about something. Before you got the courage to ask him what was on his mind, he stood up straighter and cleared his throat. "Y/N... can I have this dance?" He held out one hand to you, the other sweeping behind his back in a formal gesture. You giggled at his attempt to act prim and proper, when you both knew that was the furthest thing from his real personality. "I would be delighted," you said, copying his tone as you put your hand in his. He led you out of the kitchen and onto the makeshift dance floor. Just as you had imagined, most of your friends were with their significant others, swaying slowly to the soft music. Harry pulled you close, resting his free hand on your waist, his fingertips brushing the skin of your back. You shivered at the feeling, reaching your other hand up to rest on his shoulder. "You know... I had a dream about you last night," he said, continuing to sway the two of you in a slow circle. "Oh yeah? What about?" He hesitated for a minute, looking into your eyes. "It was just like this," he said quietly. "Only better." "How was it better?" Your voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "Because you were mine," he breathed. "I finally got my head out of my ass and asked you to be mine." You could barely breathe at this point. Your heart was pounding out of your chest, and you were sure harry could feel it from where his hand rested on your side. He didn't say anything though, he just keep his eyes on yours. "You want... you want me to be yours?" You asked, voice shaking slightly. "Would you?" He seemed just as nervous as you were. "I- yeah," you nodded, still staring at him. "I would." He breathed a sigh of relief. "I really like you," he admitted. "I have for a long time." "You have?" you asked in disbelief. "I've liked you for a long time." "Really?" He seemed just as surprised as you were. "We're really stupid, aren't we?" You laughed, dropping your head against his chest as you nodded. "We are." You felt him inhale deeply, and then his fingers were brushing your jaw, tilting your face back up to look at him. "Can I kiss you?" he asked softly, gaze flitting down to your lips before he met your eyes again. "Yes, you can," you said breathlessly. "Please?" He smiled, leaning closer and pressing his lips against your cheek. You nearly melted at the contact, brain short circuiting at the realization that Harry, the man you had loved for so long, felt the same way about you, and was standing here in your arms, about to kiss you. His lips lingered against your skin for a few seconds before he pulled away slightly. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he sighed, giving you no more time to think about it before his lips were on yours. Your eyes slipped closed as his hand moved to your back, pulling you closer to him. He was gentle, his lips moving softly against yours as you pressed your fingers into his shoulder. He pulled back after a few seconds, resting his forehead against yours with a breathless laugh. "Can't believe i waited so long to do that," he sighed. "Neither can I," you said softly, turning your head slightly to kiss his cheek. "I'm glad you finally went for it." "Me too."

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x reader fanfiction #harry styles/reader fanfiction #harrystylesxyou #harry styles x you fanfiction #harrystylesxreader #harry styles/reader #harry styles/you #harry styles x you #harry fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles/you fanfiction #goldens800fics

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rhysismydaddy · 3 years

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Prisoner's Game Pt. 4 (Rowaelin)

THANK YALL FOR BEING PATIENT I AM SO SORRY

Parts 1 \ 2 \ 3

________________________________

Journal Entry #2000

Sometimes I think it wouldn't be so bad to die.

To leave this island forever and not have to worry about being discovered anymore.

I wasn't always this macabre, but two thousand days of checking over my shoulder and wishing for a man's murder has dulled the wishful excitement I felt when I first got here.

Five years ago, I was grateful to even be alive.

I couldn't believe a stranger give up everything for me and the others--couldn't believe she'd agree to fight this battle because of my decision.

I have to actually remind myself to still be grateful to her, if I'm being honest.

Because sometimes I think about that night all those years ago, when she showed up in the darkest part of the night to kill me. When she'd held the knife with a trembling hand and told me that the price for betraying Arobynn Hamel was my life. When we discovered together that she couldn't bring herself to kill me.

Sometimes I think it would be better if she would've just done it.

At least it would've been over.

At least I wouldn't have to spend years on an island, living the same day over and over again. I think that's what's driving me mad, beyond anything else.

The predictability of my time.

Every day, I follow the same routine. The routine she laid out for me in a hushed whisper.

I wake up and go to the small café a mile down the road to watch the news. And every day, I pray to see Arobynn Hamel's face next to to the words, "Breaking news: billionaire crime boss found dead."

Because that was her only stipulation.

That the ten of us would stay on the island, hidden from sight, until news of his death was announced. In exchange, we got to live.

She'd warned me it would take a long time.

She'd told me to not get complacent.

And then she'd whispered what she planned to do.

Even now, over five years later, the words she'd whispered while shoving a plane ticket and a new passport into my hands were crystal clear.

"The devil isn't going to go down easy."

~Aelin~

The shaft of her recently-fashioned shiv was cold in her hand as she silently grabbed it from under her pillow.

The soft clink of the bars shutting again told her whoever had just snuck in her cell was now locked in with her.

Unfortunate for them.

She wasn't afforded the luxury of a clock, but she knew it was the middle of the night. Normal visiting hours were far over. There was no one here but the bored night guards, four janitorial staff, and rows and rows of sleeping inmates.

And the idiot trying to sneak up behind her bed.

She kept her eyes closed as she listened to the quiet steps walk closer and closer. Right when she was about to turn around and attack, they stopped.

Then the weirdest thing happened. It sounded like whoever it was slid down the wall directly across from her bed.

A killer wouldn't do that.

Curiosity piqued, Aelin turned her head to see who and what was going on.

It was dark in the cell, but she'd recognize that shock of silver hair anywhere.

"Rowan?" she whispered, so quietly she almost didn't even hear herself. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't respond, but the way his muscles tensed told her he'd heard her.

Slowly, she sat up so she could see him better and maybe figure out what was going on.

For the first time in a long time, he looked less than perfect. Far less than it, actually.

His hair was going every possible direction, like he'd been running hands through it and pulling on it. He was wearing a gray t-shirt, rumpled dress slacks, and tennishoes that weren't even tied.

But that wasn't what worried her most. It was the way he was sitting completely still and silent.

He didn't even look like he was breathing.

"Hey," she tried again. "What's going on? Look at me."

Another few heartbeats passed, and then he slowly shook his head.

"Please, Rowan. Just look at me."

He winced, like hearing her say his name physically hurt him.

And then his head came up.

Deep green eyes met hers, and even though it was what she'd wanted, what she'd needed, Aelin instantly wished he'd look away.

Because with one look, she knew he'd figured it out.

He knew, and the pain and turmoil in his eyes... she'd put that there.

She'd seen him angry and sad and happy and everything in between, but she'd never seen him, or anyone else, look so broken.

He looked completely and utterly broken as he sat before her.

"Rowan," she whispered, shaking her head even though she didn't know why.

He bowed his head again, seemingly unable to even look at her.

"Ro," she whispered, dropping to her knees in front of him.

Almost like the old nickname broke something inside him, Rowan's shoulders started to shake.

And then he sobbed.

It was the kind of sob that couldn't possibly be held in. The kind that made her heart clench and tears brew in her own eyes, the kind that told her how much pain he was in.

Tears ran down her cheeks as she put a hand on his arm. He shook off the touch like it burned him and looked up at her again.

"I ruined your life," he croaked, the tears on his face reeking of self-hatred. "I ruined your life."

She shook her head. "No, you didn't."

Anger bled into his tone. "I put you in prison for eight years for murdering people who aren't even fucking dead, Aelin. I didn't listen to you, didn't look hard enough. I've had the clues you left me for eight years. We were in love, and I didn't even try hard enough to... I... please explain to me how I didn't ruin your life."

"You did not ruin my life, Rowan," she told him again, meaning every word.

"Eight years of your life, gone because of me. I don't even understand how you can look at me." He huffed a laugh, but he was far from amused. "No wonder you hate me."

His chest was heaving, his hands were in fists, and his stubble-crested jaw was damp with tears.

And she'd thought he hadn't cared.

Aelin felt like a fool--a horrible, stupid fool--for ever doubting him. For thinking him indignant.

Because this was technically what she'd wanted. What she'd planned to happen.

She'd wanted it to hurt, had wanted him to feel an ounce of what she'd felt when he'd led the case against her.

But it wasn't what she wanted anymore.

Moving slowly, Aelin crawled onto his lap, put her hands on the side of his face, and lifted his gaze to hers while she said, "Arobynn Hamel ruined my life, not you."

He shook his head, breathing heavily. "No-"

She cut him off by wrapping herself around him.

Like she was trying to heal physical wounds, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled his head to her chest. She sank into him until there wasn't an inch of space between them. Her hands wandered over his back as she held him tight to her.

He was stiffer than a board at first, but eventually he sagged against her, wrapping his arms around her in return.

It was like he was drowning in the sea, and she was the only thing preventing him from being swept away. He shook, his entire body trembling, and his arms became a vice around her.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered after a moment.

She shook her head, but it didn't matter. He said it again, and again, and again, until his voice was hoarse and broken.

Aelin ran her hands over his back slowly, and just held him as pain he'd felt for eight years seemed to reach a crest.

Eventually he stopped crying and just laid against her, warm breath fanning across her collarbone.

"I'm so sorry, Aelin," he whispered yet again.

"Please stop saying that. None of this is your fault. You aren't the reason I'm in prison."

"Yes, I am," he insisted, shifting beneath her. "But I'm getting you out right now."

He looked up, eyes bright with new-found purpose, and wiped the tears off his cheeks like they were distracting him.

"What?"

He nodded quickly. "We can bring those people back, and you can get your life back. I know it's not the same, and I know I can't get you these years back, but-"

"No."

He paused. "No?"

She shook her head. "I can't leave yet."

"Leave? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means I still have shit to do here. I'm not leaving before it's done."

His eyes narrowed. "You're acting like this is a hotel, not a high-security prison. And what do you even mean?"

Aelin had the good sense to feel a little guilty as she slowly got to her feet and walked to the wall at the back of the cell. A few well-placed taps later, it swung open.

Rowan's mouth dropped open, then closed, then repeated the whole routine like he couldn't decide what to say first.

He apparently figured it out, because it opened again so he accuse, "I knew you were robbing me! Where the fuck is my bed?"

She sighed and rubbed her temples. "That's what you care about right now? Seriously?"

He grumbled something as he got to his feet and leaned into the makeshift doorway in the wall.

It took him a few moments to examine the ladder leading down to the tunnel, and then he straightened and looked at her again with a mixture of confusion, awe, and understanding on his face.

"You've been sneaking out this whole time."

She nodded.

Most of her escapes had been in the past six months, but she'd occasionally left in the years before to check on something or track down a lead.

"You beat up your roommate so they'd put you back in solitary."

Aelin nodded again.

"But how did you know they'd bring you to this cell?"

A small smile pulled on her lips. "Look again," she told him, gesturing towards the open brick door.

He stuck his head in the hole again and couldn't stifle his surprised intake of breath as he saw the other ladders.

He came back in the cell, and the expression on his face made her bite her lip to hold back a smile. "You... you tunneled into prison?"

"Into every solitary cell," she confirmed.

"When? Why?"

"One of my old jobs for Arobynn was to break a client of his out of solitary. I knew which cell he was in, but... getting locked up is kind of a right of passage for my former career, so I figured I'd plan ahead and give myself a way out, should I ever need it." She smiled. "Hamel never could figure out how I did it, so it's safe for me to use now."

Rowan spent a long moment looking at her. "That's... genius."

"I tend to be," she agreed.

They were both silent for a minute, then he said, "You need to tell me everything. Enough of both of us wasting time assuming what the other is thinking. We need to get everything out in the open, and we need to do it now."

Aelin nodded, knowing it was true.

It was time to either finally trust him or kill him, and just the thought of the latter made something inside of her twist so hard she felt nauseous.

She nodded to the tunnel, not wanting to have the following conversation overheard by any prying ears. He nodded and followed her down, closing the door behind him.

When she knew they were alone, she started to explain.

"Maddison Kliff, my first so-called victim, funded her campaign for senator with money from Arobynn Hamel."

Rowan's eyebrows went up in surprise, but he nodded for her continue.

"He gave it to her, with the caveat that when she won, she'd vote against renewable energy for Rifthold. He has millions in oil, so when she did the exact opposite and voted for the green plan that switched the city to 70% electric, he took a pretty hard hit." She took a deep breath. "The day after the vote, I got my orders to kill her."

His jaw clenched.

"I went that night, thinking I could do it. Thinking I'd get it over with and never think about it again. I snuck in her townhouse and had everything set up." She let out a laugh. "But then I realized my deal with Arobynn covered ten of Sam's jobs. If I killed Maddison, and did a good enough job of it to get away with it, I knew he'd put nine more names on the list."

"So you didn't do it," Rowan said, like he already knew but needed to hear her say it.

"So I didn't do it."

Aelin ran a hand through her hair, starting to pace. "I ran. And then I went back the next night with a suitcase, a new ID for her, and a plan."

"Why Aruba?" he asked.

"I'd done all that research for our trip," she said, a pang of sadness shooting through her at the memory of planning their first vacation together. "I didn't have time to research another place. And I never told you, but the house I wanted us to rent? You kind of... own it."

"I own a house in Aruba," he repeated slowly, his tone making it clear he didn't understand.

She rolled her eyes at his tone. "Arobynn might be a bastard I'd love to put in a grave, but he paid me well. I was eighteen and didn't know what else to do with the money. So I bought a house."

"In Aruba. In my name."

She nodded. "No one can trace it back to you. It's hidden in an off-shore corporation, owed by another off-shore corporation, but technically, yes, you're the owner. It was going to be your Christmas present."

"You bought me a house," his lips twitched. "For a Christmas present."

"I was in love with you," she muttered. Then pointed out, "My lack of shopping impulse control really isn't the point of the story."

He rolled his eyes, still fighting a grin at her antics. "Please continue."

"Right. So I sent her to the house in Aruba and told her to stay at the house with anyone else he wanted me to kill. I told her to not say a word to anyone besides those people, and that I'd be forced to actually kill her if she did. If Arobynn finds out they're alive, he'll send someone for me."

She explained the list next. "He requires proof of all completed jobs, so I kept the "murder weapons" and made sure the crime scenes had enough blood to indicate the person couldn't still be alive. It was mostly fake, but I took just enough blood from each of the victims and mixed it in to make it realistic enough to fool DNA scanners. Then I put the weapons in storage lockers he owns and wrote the numbers down so I wouldn't forget them."

Rowan nodded, most certainly remembering that part.

He was doing a good job of hiding his emotions, but she still saw how heavily this all weighed on him.

Everything he'd been feeling for eight years was hitting him at once, and while explanation made sense, it probably didn't make him feel any better about the role he'd played in all of this.

He confirmed it by asking, "Why didn't you tell me?"

He asked it almost casually, but she didn't miss the pain he couldn't keep from seeping into his voice.

"I wanted to," she breathed. "Gods, I wanted to. I know now you investigated before giving the list to the cops, but to me, it looked like you found it and just turned me in. You never asked me. And you looked at me... you looked at me like you thought I was guilty. I knew you wouldn't believe me."

Rowan went quiet, regret and shame coming off of him in waves so thick she almost choked on it.

"How is all of this going to play out?" he asked, seemingly trying to force himself to think about something else. "And what do you have to do that you need to be in prison for?"

She hesitated, suddenly not wanting to tell him.

Not out of a lack of trust, but because if she told him... he'd realize she's guilty of the crime she's in prison for. He might go back to hating her, back to thinking her a horrible person.

And she just got him back.

She's pulled from her thoughts when he reaches a hand out, slowly gripping her jaw to tilt her face to his.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, the words final.

Of course he knew what she was thinking just from looking at her face. He always was a little too astute.

A part of Aelin wanted to put on a brave face and act like that wasn't exactly what she'd been worrying about, but a bigger part wanted him. Wanted him to see that even after all this time, she needed him.

So she forced down the witty jokes and sultry smiles she usually used as ways to hide her vulnerability and looked up at him.

"Promise?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "I promise, Aelin."

His hand was still on her face, and he leaned in until his forehead rested against hers. "I'm never going to leave you again. I'm so... I'm so fucking sorry I did in the first place. I should've come to you, or at least listened when you told me you were innocent."

"I'm sorry I thought you didn't fight for me," she said back. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

They'd both done things they regretted, but Aelin knew that now, no matter what, he was telling the truth. He wasn't going to leave her.

The knowledge felt like a weight lifting off her shoulders, and just to lighten the mood, she whispered, "And I'm sorry I stole your bed."

He pulled back to glare at her. "You're going to explain one day how you even pulled that off. But I'd like the answer to my other question first."

Aelin took a step back and ran a hand through her hair.

"Arobynn Hamel dying is the endgame, Rowan. I have to stay in prison so I can kill him and have an alibi no one will question."

He paused, and for a moment, her fears skyrocketed, so she rushed to explain, "As long as he's alive, those people have to be in hiding and I have to look like I killed them. Once he's dead, I can bring them back without worrying Arobynn will kill them. Or me."

He gave her a strange look, but she spoke before he could, explaining, "It's why I've been in prison for so long. I would've killed him and ended it years ago, but I only found him a couple months ago. He's been in hiding ever since I was locked up, because the FBI knew I was one of his and started looking for him."

"Okay, but Aelin-"

She cut him off. "I know it's insane and not at all ideal, but I need you to leave me in here. Just until he's dead, and then it's over."

He stepped forward and grabs her shoulders, shaking her slightly.

And then he did the weirdest thing.

He smiled.

"What the hell do you look happy about?" she demanded. "I'm being serious-"

It was his turn to interrupt her. "Aelin, if that's the stipulation, you're already free."

Unease drifted through her stomach. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he's already dead."

Shock rushed through her so fast and thoroughly, her vision swam and she swayed in his grip. "What... what did you just say?"

"That's why I came today, now. I actually figured out you were innocent two days ago, but I wasn't going to come until I could tell you with certainty I was getting you out, and I knew you couldn't bring everyone back without risking your life. I've spent the past 48 hours planning a jailbreak and a way to sneak you to somewhere the US doesn't have extradition."

He grinned again. "But then it was announced on the 11 o'clock news tonight that he died last week of pneumonia complications. His family kept it private because they wanted a small funeral, but he's dead, Aelin."

Still feeling the weight of shock, she argued, "He's not dead."

"But he is."

"No," she insisted, pushing away from him and starting to pace again. "He can't be dead."

His face softened at the panic in her voice. "Aelin, I know you wanted it to be you, but-"

"No, Rowan, you don't understand. I mean he cannot physically be dead, because I haven't finished killing him!"

It was his turn to be shocked.

"What do you mean you haven't finished killing him?"

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. "I've been poisoning him since the day I figured out where he holes up. Turns out he has kidney problems and goes in once a week for dialysis. I show up and add a little... extra to his medication. The last time I went was less than a week ago, and while he might have been sick, he most definitely was still alive."

Besides that, what were the odds that Rowan figured out her "victims" were still alive, and just two days later Arobynn croaks?

It would be one hell of a coincidence, and Aelin learned long ago to not believe in those.

His eyes went wide. "What? You mean he faked his death? Why the hell would he do that?"

"Because," she said slowly, dread forming like a lead ball in her stomach as she realized what this meant for her, for the ten people whose lives she'd traded her freedom for. "I told Maddison and the others to wait for news of his death before coming back. I told them that until he was dead, they weren't safe."

She shook her head, whispering, "I told them to watch the news."

Rowan realized what she was saying and cursed.

"He knows."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lemme know in the comments if you want to be tagged!

Part 5 will (realistically) be out in the next three weeks. Sorry for the slow updates; school is consuming all my time and energy.

@audreycressworth @whimsicallyreading @onceupona-chaos @lil-unoriginal-weirdo-273sole @surielandiareendgame @captain-swan-is-endgame @poisonous00 @vasudharaghavan @sailorsassley @endlessdaydream @swankii-art-teacher @thenerdandfandoms @emily-gsh @beanco8 @stokingthemidnightflame @mis-lil-red @ladyfireheart-and-buzzard @sheharahu @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @jorjy-jo @court-of-dreams-and-ashes @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @loudphantomdragon @gracie-rosee @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #rowan whitehorn #tog #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #aelin galythinius

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magnetic-rose · 3 years

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Why Spones is a top-tier ship

AKA “the inherent homoeroticism of annoying the shit out of your co-worker.”

Spock and McCoy have a complicated relationship. A lot of their bickering and ideological differences lead fans to believe that they hate each other, but that’s an over-simplification of the truth. The reality is that Spock and McCoy are extremely close friends who care about each other deeply. Though sometimes their bickering turns serious during stressful situations, for the most time they seem to enjoy the banter. A common mischaracterization of their relationship seems to put McCoy as the bully and Spock as the victim. In truth, there are many times where Spock will say something specifically to get a rise out of McCoy. They fight. That’s how they show affection, not disdain. In fact, one could argue that some of their bantering have a flirtatious tone to it.

Kirk: Mister Spock, regaining eyesight would be an emotional experience for most. You, I assume, felt nothing.

Spock: On the contrary Captain. I had a very strong reaction. My first sight was the face of Doctor McCoy bending over me.

McCoy: ‘Tis a pity brief blindness didn’t increase your appreciation for beauty, Spock. (Operation -- Annihilate!)

Spock is a half-Vulcan, half-Human who has mostly chosen to follow his Vulcan heritage. As such, he is a being of almost pure logic. The truth about Vulcans are that they are secretly beings who feel things very deeply and intensely, and they feel the need to keep a tight lid on their emotions as to not succumb to them. McCoy, on the other hand, is a regular human. He’s a deeply emotional man who cares about others. One could argue that McCoy is almost too empathetic, as he lets his emotions rule him. Spock and McCoy are polar opposites; the brain and the heart, the logic and the emotion, the super-ego and the id.

Despite these differences, the two men are similar in a lot of ways. They’re both men of science, men of peace, and they both care very deeply for their Captain. They’re both self-sacrificing morons, to the chagrin of the other. Spock will prioritize McCoy’s life even when both of them know it’s not the logical choice to do so. Likewise, McCoy will take a hit for Spock even when they both know the Vulcan is stronger and better equipped to deal with pain than the doctor.

Spock: (In the middle of a blizzard) In this severe cold, we cannot survive much longer.

McCoy: Leave me here, Spock.

Spock: We go together or not at all.

McCoy: Don’t be a fool. My hands and face are frostbitten. I can’t feel my feet. Alone, you have a chance. Now do what I say. Go try to find Jim.

Spock: We go together! (All of Yesterdays)

In the episode, “The Empath,” Kirk, Spock and McCoy have to choose someone to be offered as sacrifice to be tortured by a group of aliens. Kirk obviously volunteers, but gets put to sleep by McCoy with a tranquilizer. Spock then states that he’ll offer himself up, as he has the higher chance of surviving the torture. McCoy then proceeds to sedate Spock as well, and sacrifices himself to be tortured by the aliens.

Spock: While the captain is asleep, I am in command. When the Vians return, I shall go with them.

McCoy: You mean, if I hadn't given him that shot

Spock: Precisely. The choice would have been the captain's. Now it is mine.

(McCoy turns away. Spock sits to carry on working. Gem puts her hand on Spock's shoulder, and smiles. McCoy comes up behind him and gives him an injection.)

Spock: Your action is highly unethical. My decision stands. (Spock falls asleep next to Kirk.)

McCoy: Not this time, Spock.

Underneath all the fighting and disagreements, there is a deep caring between Spock and McCoy that manifests itself into protectiveness towards each other. In “All of Yesterdays,” Spock is constantly showing concern for McCoy after he almost died of hypothermia. In aftermath of McCoy’s torture in “The Empath,” Spock is seen hovering over his body and caressing his face, worry written into his features. On the other hand, while McCoy constantly makes fun of Spock for his lack of emotions, he’s also highly aware of the Vulcan’s mental state and protective of it when others threaten to shatter his resilience.

McCoy: He's a Vulcan. You can't force emotion out of him.

Philana: You must be joking, Doctor.

McCoy: You'll destroy him.

Parmen: We can't let him die laughing, can we?

McCoy: (Watching as Spock starts to cry) I beg you! (Plato’s Stepchildren)

The episode “Amok Time” also demonstrates McCoy’s perceptiveness of Spock and Spock’s true feelings of friendship towards McCoy. McCoy is in fact the first person to notice that something is wrong with Spock:

McCoy: Oh, captain. Got a minute? It's Spock. Have you noticed anything strange about him?

Kirk: No, nothing in particular. Why ?

McCoy: Well, it's nothing I can pinpoint without an examination, but he's become increasingly restive. If he were not a Vulcan, I'd almost say nervous. And for another thing, he's avoiding food. I checked and he hasn't eaten at all in three days.

Kirk: That just sounds like Mister Spock in one of his contemplative phases.

Kirk doesn’t notice anything wrong with Spock, and initially dismisses McCoy’s concern, but McCoy immediately picked up on Spock’s mental turmoil. Despite his cantankerousness, McCoy not only cares about Spock but goes out of his way to look out for his mental state. Part of it might be because he’s his doctor, but how many doctors go so far as to monitor someone’s eating habits because they notice that person’s suddenly being fidgety? On Spock’s end, when it comes time for him to beam down to Vulcan to complete his marriage ceremony, he specifically asks for McCoy to be there:

Spock: By tradition, the male is accompanied by his closest friends.

Kirk: Thank you, Mister Spock.

Spock: I also request McCoy accompany me.

McCoy: I shall be honoured, sir.

One episode I find extremely fascinating in terms of McCoy/Spock moments is “Mirror, Mirror.” In this famous episode, half of the Enterprise crew get transported into an alternate universe dubbed The Mirror Verse, in which evil versions of the characters exist and terrorize space as a fearsome military force. McCoy is part of the team that gets transported in the Mirror Verse, while Spock stays in their regular universe. Mirror Spock immediately realizes that half of the crew, including Kirk and McCoy, are acting strangely. When he corners Kirk to question him, he does so by threatening McCoy: “I shall not waste time with you. You’re too inflexible, too disciplined, once you’ve made up your mind. But Doctor McCoy has a plenitude of human weaknesses, sentimental, soft. You may not tell me what I want to know, but he will.” This Spock seems to have a intimate knowledge of McCoy’s mind. When the party decides to attack Mirror Spock, he fights all of them except for Uhura and McCoy, who he simply pushes out of harm’s way.

When Mirror Spock gets hurt as the crew is trying to escape back to their own universe, McCoy is suddenly unable to leave his side. Kirk allows him to stay to nurse Spock back to health, and McCoy risks almost staying in the Mirror Verse forever for him. When Mirror Spock awakes, he backs McCoy into a wall and initiates a forced mind meld onto the doctor. The next scene has Mirror Spock holding a disoriented McCoy up and bringing him back to his crew; he now understands what is happening and he wants his regular crew back, and thus he allows Kirk and company to make the switch back to their own universe.

Other Star Trek properties have gone more in depth on how a forced mind meld can be extremely traumatizing on the person receiving it. Star Trek: Enterprise has an entire story arc dedicated to the Vulcan T’Pol trying to heal from a forced mind meld. Unfortunately, because the nature of TOS episodes were episodic, we never got the chance to explore the emotional fallout of McCoy’s forced mind meld and how that might have affected his relationship with Spock. The franchise also never went in depth on Mirror McCoy outside of what Mirror Spock speaks of him, since Mirror McCoy died of xenopolycythemia in 2269.

Closing the list of evidence of Spock and McCoy’s affections towards each other are the Star Trek movies “The Wrath of Khan” and “The Search for Spock.” Towards the end of Wrath of Khan, Spock sacrifices himself to save The Enterprise in one of the franchises most heart-wrenching scenes. Moments before his sacrifice, he knocks McCoy unconscious, touches his face and whispers “remember.” What happened in this scene was that Spock, knowing he was about to die, transferred his Katra to McCoy. The katra being the Vulcan equivalent of a soul. This speaks to the amount of trust that Spock has in McCoy. For someone who keeps most of his emotions under a tight lid, it’s a huge gesture to entrust another with the essence of their entire being. The next movie, The Search for Spock, is a journey as the Enterprise crew fight to return to Vulcan so they can reunite Spock with his body. When they finally arrive, the Vulcans warn McCoy that the process is extremely dangerous and could even result in his death. McCoy calmly replies that he “chooses the danger.” He cannot fathom living his life without Spock.

McCoy: (Speaking to Spock) I'm going to tell you something that I... I never thought I'd hear myself say...But it seems I've missed you. I don't know if I could stand to lose you again.

So in conclusion, Spock and McCoy have a rich and complex relationship that is much more than simply just “they dislike each other because they bicker a lot.” Their bickering is more akin to that of an old married couple. There are plenty of examples not even included in this post of how deeply they care for each other. Despite their ideological differences, they balance each other out quite nicely. McCoy is finely attuned to Spock’s emotions, arguably better than anyone else on the ship. Spock in turn is protective and gentle with McCoy. Once you stop looking at their interactions solely on the surface level, you’ll be able to see the tenderness and years of love and friendship between them. This is why I think Spock/McCoy is one of the most underrated and misunderstood relationships of TOS. Don’t let the constant arguing fool you into believing these two dummies don’t adore each other.

Shout-out to Tempest for their extremely lengthy ship manifesto on Spones called “Spiced Peaches,” which goes even more in depth on why Spones is a great couple. Using their manifesto as a reference was key to remembering Spock/McCoy moments. Also shout-out to the site chakoteya for having full transcripts of TOS episodes, so I could easily find quotes for this. If you’ve come this far, thanks for reading!

#star trek #tos #leonard mccoy #spock #spones #this was... a lot

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