#it's possible i wrote out this whole thing just to talk myself into doing some rewatches | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

here2bbtstrash · 1 year

Text

compromise (explicit)

genre: twilight AU, straight-up cracky-ass porn, do not look @ me

pairing: vampire!taehyung x human!reader x werewolf!jungkook

summary: you're torn between the two loves of your life - but maybe you don't have to choose.

word count: 10k 😬

contains: explicit sexual content~*~ no seriously like i wrote this with my dick it is EXCLUSIVELY twilight-flavored porn sdhfjdkgsdf - taehyung is a vampire, jungkook is a werewolf, reader is in love with both of them, they can't stand each other, yktfv !!!! this is actually an incredibly poorly negotiated threesome, so uh, don't do it like this kids!!!!! just enjoy the filth 🫡 which specifically contains: a m/m/f threesome ft. mid-sex jealousy lol, biting, nipple play, clit stim and fingering, clit biting 💀, cunnilingus, spitting, neck.... licking?, a lot of body temperature descriptions bc we're sticking to steph's hot/cold lore bc i think it's funny idk, blowjobs/throat fucking, spit-roasting, first times, unprotected sex, some mildly improbable sex positions because they both have superhuman strength lmfao, a smidge of dirty talk/praise kink, ass play, anal sex, good ol' DP, annnnnd the grand finale: neck-biting and blood-drinking 🤭 also tae and jk throw "slurs" like 'leech' and 'dog' at each other the whole time sdfsdfjkf 💜

A/N: SURPRISE! AND HAPPY HALLOWEEN! I WILL NOT BE EXPLAINING MYSELF BUT UHHHH ENJOY SOME NONSENSE!!!!

thank you to @haliiimede for the incredible banner 🥺

read on AO3!

~*~

You’ve been on edge all evening, watching, waiting.

As the sun slips below the horizon and reddens the sky on its departure, you try not to read it as an omen of what’s to come. Night pours out black like it always does, dark blanketing the lush green outside your bedroom window, but your stomach refuses to untwist.

Not even the touch of Taehyung’s hand can settle your nerves, despite how familiar it is, cold as ice, hard as marble. He’d climbed in your window at dusk, the way he’s done every night for months now, but tonight the air between you is heavy. Tonight you can barely look at him.

“Jagiya,” his hundred-year-old voice drips, sweet like honey, rich like blood in the quiet of your room. “What’s wrong?”

You haven’t even opened your mouth to answer when his head snaps up, clearly alerted by some sound your weak human ears have yet to pick up on.

Right on time, then.

“Tae,” you murmur softly, bringing one hand up to cup his cheek. Your thumb strokes lovingly over the flawless perfection of his face as your human eyes meet his: rich ochre, deep enough to drown in. He’s well-fed; you made sure that would be the case when you planned this. You need every possible element on your side tonight.

He cuts you off with a growl before you can say more than his name. “Why is that dog here?”

The word spat through his clenched teeth sends a fresh wave of anxiety spiraling through your bloodstream. “Please don’t call him that, Tae.” Your voice is barely more than a whisper. “He’s my best friend. I wanted the three of us to talk.”

You realize you can hear it now, coming up the road: the distant but unmistakable rattle of Jungkook’s motorcycle. It draws closer and closer, until it’s underscored by the crunch of gravel as he pulls into the driveway. When Jungkook finally kills the engine, the silence in your bedroom feels loud.

Taehyung doesn’t speak, but you can tell he’s furious, every muscle in his body pulled tight. His hands curl into fists, flexing restlessly at his sides, and even the well-defined line of his jaw jumps like he’s holding back the urge to tear something apart.

You do the only thing you can think of to calm your boyfriend: you take his face in your hands and pull him in for a deep kiss.

As your lips touch, it finally sinks in: how scared you are about tonight– you’re shaking like a leaf in Taehyung’s arms, even though you know he’d never hurt you. At least not purposefully.

The heat of your mouth seems to distract Taehyung a little, but there’s still fury in his kiss, in the soft growls that he can’t quite suppress as his tongue rolls over yours.

Your bedroom door creaks on its hinges, and you pull away from Taehyung just in time to see a bright smile drop off Jungkook’s face as he stands in the threshold. Your heart plummets into your stomach. Three seconds in and you’ve already ruined everything. How very human of you.

Moving an inch back from Taehyung, you unwind your arms from around his neck and try to regard both of them at once. This conversation suddenly feels much harder to navigate than you’d anticipated.

“Hi, Jungkook,” you say softly. Your best friend is practically glowering in the doorway now.

“I thought you wanted to talk. I don’t need to see him turn you. Or suck your soul out, or whatever.”

You try to stay calm, because someone has to. “It was just a kiss, Jungkook. I meant it, I do want to talk.” Your gaze flits from Jungkook to Taehyung. “To both of you.” As your eyes find Jungkook’s again, you pat the bedspread on your other side. “Will you come sit down?”

Taehyung makes a noise so otherworldly that chills rip up your spine, enough to make you shiver. “He’s fine where he is.”

“Tae,” you turn back to him, your face twisted with emotion. “Please.”

Jungkook crosses into the room with an unhurried confidence despite the slight hesitation in his steps, as if he’s preparing for your boyfriend to lunge at any moment but sure he’d win the fight. To your surprise, he doesn’t follow the path you’d indicated to join you and Taehyung. Instead, he moves to stand in front of you at the foot of the bed, and then–

Your jaw drops as Jungkook, still slow, still confident, sinks to his knees in front of you and Taehyung.

“How’s this?”

“Swearing your loyalty, mutt?” Taehyung snaps.

Jungkook doesn’t even look at him. “Not to you.”

“Thank you, Jungkook,” you murmur softly. “And thank you for coming here. And I’m sorry I haven’t told either of you why.”

“You didn’t even tell me he was coming!” Taehyung interjects, indignant, and you sigh.

“You’re right. And I should have. But you can see why I was scared to, right? I didn’t think either of you would agree if you knew you’d be in the same room.”

They both shrug a little, like they can’t argue with that.

It all starts to well up in your chest before you can focus on remaining rational, the way you’d planned to. The emotions, the pain. Your very human weaknesses.

“I don’t think you two realize how hard this is for me. How hard it is that you feel the way you do about each other,” you begin. “Neither of you can know what it’s like to wake up and feel like you’re being torn in half. But that’s every day for me.”

Jungkook tries to say your name, but falls quiet again when you shake your head.

“It doesn’t feel fair. Any of this. It’s not fair that you’re both…” you pause, searching for the word. “…superhuman, something I may never understand. It’s not fair that I love you both, in such different but equally strong ways, so much sometimes that it feels like my heart might give out. And it’s not fair that you hate each other. That you can’t even be in the same room.”

Taehyung’s icy touch on your skin makes you shiver, and you realize he’s wiping away errant tears that have started to roll down your face.

“And it’s not fair,” you continue, “that you expect me to choose. That there’s supposed to be an answer here. I’ve nearly lost each of you trying to figure it out. So my choice is that I won’t choose. I don’t want either of you if I can’t have both of you.”

“What?!” Taehyung’s eyes flash when he pulls back, as quickly as if you’d just slapped him.

“Listen to me,” you command, your voice laced with determination now. “Taehyung. I love you. You are my soulmate. My person. I want to spend the rest of our lives with you.” You sniff a little, taking a big breath in, and your chest shakes as you let it out again. “But all of that is also true of Jungkook. And I’m tired of pretending it’s not.”

Taehyung blinks, dazed, like he can't believe what you’re saying. When you glance down at Jungkook, still knelt on the floor, a smile is ghosting over his mouth.

“That leech really didn’t understand our bond, huh?” Jungkook asks softly, as if only you can hear the question. “Didn’t understand that I was the one who was there for you, who picked up the pieces when he fucked off to Paris to—”

“Jungkook,” you cut him off, your tone a warning. “Stop. This goes both ways. I love you, but you also need to understand that my feelings for Taehyung are just as strong. That’s not changing even though we’ve hurt each other. We’ve all hurt each other.”

Jungkook falls silent again, and you turn your gaze back to Taehyung. Your heart aches at the unmistakable betrayal you see in his eyes.

“Taehyung,” you breathe. “Please. I can’t be without you. Without either of you. I’m just asking you to try. For me.”

“Well, I don’t need to mull it over.” Before you have a chance to react to his words, Jungkook surges up and kisses you hard on the mouth, and you make a soft noise of surprise against his lips.

You know you should pull away and tell him to stop, but Jungkook’s touch is warm enough to melt, and you lose your focus as your whole world is knocked entirely off-axis. Your head spins when his tongue traces over your bottom lip, and it’s suddenly hard to think about anything else.

Taehyung growls, low in his throat, like the distant rumble of thunder. It’s enough to drag you back, and you break the kiss with a gasp.

As if he can read the expression on your face, Jungkook wordlessly drops down onto the bed on the other side of you. You slide a hand over the firm muscles of his thigh, giving him a reassuring squeeze before turning to face your boyfriend.

Taehyung’s gaze traces over the floorboards, and it’s clear a thousand thoughts are running through his mind, thoughts you wish you could hear for yourself.

“Please hear me, Tae,” you try again, your voice low. “I want you. All of you. Intimately. I know you want that too.” The subject makes his gaze snap up, and you reach for him, a desperate attempt to try and keep him with you.

When you grab Taehyung’s hand, his ice-cold skin is a shock compared to the heat of Jungkook’s body under your other palm. But it’s familiar, it’s comforting, the touch of this man, whom you love so intensely that it terrifies you.

“And I know you’ve been scared to try. Scared of yourself and what might happen,” you continue, and Taehyung nods slowly, his eyes searching yours. “But… maybe this is it. Doesn’t it make sense? If Jungkook is here, it might be easier for you to stay in control with me.”

“And I can protect her if you don’t,” Jungkook adds with a smirk.

“So please, Taehyung.”

He stares at you, and you stare back, waiting for his answer. It finally comes in his husky voice, spoken as reverently as a prayer.

“I would do anything for you.”

The admission is chased by his hand at the back of your neck, pulling you in for a fierce kiss. You’re so relieved that you feel yourself near the verge of tears again, despite the icy thrill that dots up your spine as his mouth moves against yours. Taehyung’s teeth just barely scrape over your bottom lip, and you can’t help whimpering into his mouth in response. Like he’s trying to keep up, you almost instantly feel the heat of Jungkook’s mouth against your skin, his lips and tongue trailing down your neck and along the stretch of your shoulder. You make another soft noise at the way his hands start to roam over your body, restless, searching.

“Take my clothes off,” you pull away from Taehyung’s mouth to command, your eyes flitting up to his. “Let me give myself to you.” You turn to Jungkook. “To both of you.”

In a flash, Jungkook has your shirt over your head, and then it’s his turn to find your lips again, and he’s somehow even more passionate than when he first kissed you tonight.

“So fucking perfect,” Jungkook growls between kisses, and the rasp in his voice makes your nipples tighten under the thin fabric of your bralette. “Wanted this for so long.”

While Jungkook licks into your mouth, Taehyung’s nimble fingers find their way to the button of your jeans, and you lean back on your hands to give him better access. His touch is delicate as he undoes your zipper and starts to shimmy the denim down your legs.

“You too,” you break away from Jungkook to murmur, and you reach down to finish pulling your pants off. “I want to see you both.”

As they each move back from you to stand and disrobe, there’s a tense moment where Taehyung and Jungkook regard each other, and then Jungkook lunges and you scream.

You squeeze your eyes shut at a terrifying sound of something being ripped apart. Panic rises in your chest and makes it impossible to breathe— you don’t know why this was a good idea, you don’t know what you expected, of course this could never work, how stupid could you be— and then you hear Taehyung huff a dark laugh, seemingly unharmed, and your eyes snap open.

And he is. He’s fine. His shirt, however, has been reduced to tatters on your bedroom floor. Jungkook’s smirk is that of a cat who’s just swallowed a canary.

“Very mature of you, mongrel. I take it I’m meant to repay the favor?” Taehyung scoffs, and you keep your eyes open to watch him easily tear Jungkook’s shirt from his body, as if it were made of tissue paper. Your head spins.

Attempting to remember how to breathe is made all the more difficult when you watch them both strip down to their boxers. Your heart flutters in your chest as you realize in this moment how truly beautiful they both are.

Jungkook’s body in particular takes you aback– despite still having the enviably small waist you’ve always teased him for, the rest of him has certainly filled out over the years. He’s broad-shouldered and thick, with firm definition in his arms and abdominals that ripple as he reaches down to shimmy out of his pants.

It’s hard to believe this is the same kid you spent your childhood summers with, sharing secrets and making up stories, the one you used to call ‘Boba Ball’ or ‘Triangle Kimbap’ during the years he refused to cut his hair.

In stark contrast, Taehyung’s body feels like coming home. He’s striking as he always is, all long, lean muscles, a hand-carved statue come to life. Though it’s well into the dead of night now, you swear you can still see the glimmer shifting under his skin, like he’s stepping into full sunlight as he moves toward you. He’s just as brilliant, just as blinding, even in the dim light of your bedroom. Perfection incarnate.

You know it for a fact, can feel it thrumming behind your ribs, as true as the steady beat of your human heart. You love them both, unconditionally and irrevocably.

“Jagiya,” Taehyung breathes as he stands over you where you sit at the edge of the bed. “You’re glowing.” His hand cups your cheek, and you turn your head to press a kiss to the freezing center of his palm.

“I’m so happy, Tae,” you whisper, and he’s smiling softly when you glance back up.

“That’s all I want.”

You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, and then Jungkook steps in beside him, and it’s like every piece in your heart slots perfectly into place.

“Are you ready?” Jungkook asks. Their superhuman reflexes move so quickly, you feel like you’ve only just begun to nod when two sets of hands are already on you, dragging you up to the head of the bed like you’re light as a feather.

Together, they push you down into the mattress, and then two mouths start to trace over every inch of your skin they can find. They alternate fluidly, everywhere at once: the brush of full lips, the sharp-sweet bite of teeth, the wet wash of a tongue. Your eyes roll back at the overwhelming sensations, and though you can initially tell them apart by the sharp contrast in their skin temperature, it all eventually melds together in your mind until you’re not sure where Taehyung ends and Jungkook begins.

The four hands on your body make quick work of stripping you out of your bralette and panties, and you’re whimpering and writhing and drenched with arousal when a warm tongue circles your nipple while a cold hand starts to creep up towards your center.

Jungkook sucks firmly on the stiff bud in his mouth, and you keen. “Fuck, Koo, oh god.”

Not to be outdone, you feel Taehyung’s teeth very lightly graze over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and your hips shudder as you groan again.

There’s a wet pop as Jungkook releases your breast from his mouth with a soft laugh. “She squirms.”

“She does.” Taehyung’s breath ghosts over your entrance as he answers. He presses a glossy kiss to the crease of your thigh, then slips two smooth, delicate fingers into the wet heat of your pussy, and you outright moan.

“She’s vocal,” Jungkook remarks.

Taehyung crooks his fingers to make you cry out again, and he falls into a steady stroking motion. “She is.”

“You’ve done this before?”

Your breath coming in shallow pants now, you manage to lift yourself up onto your forearms and interject. “We’ve never– not all the way.”

Taehyung smirks at Jungkook as his digits squelch inside of you. “We’ve done enough.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop to your face, and you meet his gaze. He cups one of your breasts in his hand, massaging it in his palm before taking the peak of your nipple between his fingers. You whine as he gently rolls the bud in a circle. “What have you done?” he asks, his voice softer this time.

“What do you think, jagi?” Taehyung answers confidently before you can respond, your pussy still gripping tight around his fingers. “Want to show wolfboy here how well you suck my cock?”

Heat flushes your face at the thought, and Jungkook practically snarls down the bed at Taehyung. “Or maybe you can show me how you eat her out, and then I’ll show you how it’s really done.”

Taehyung’s expression falters just the slightest amount, but it’s enough for Jungkook’s keen senses to notice. “Wait– you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

You shake your head, struggling to keep up, your mind fighting not to give into the euphoria of their hands continuing to work your body. “We haven’t. Tae’s not–”

“What, not a man?” Jungkook snaps, paired with a tug of your nipple. “I could’ve told you that.”

The sigh that escapes your mouth is edged with a moan as Taehyung’s thumb brushes lightly over your clit. “He’s not ready, Jungkook.”

“I’m sorry, he doesn’t want to eat you out because he’s too scared he’ll fucking eat you?”

Taehyung scoffs between your legs, but Jungkook is already shifting to his knees, clearly having heard enough. “That’s it. Turn the fuck over.”

You appreciate the consideration when Jungkook guides you to sit up and get on hands and knees across the width of the bed, nudging you forward so that he can kneel down behind you on the mattress. The positioning is ideal for Taehyung to meet you on the other side.

There’s a cold flash in Taehyung’s eyes as he circles the bed, not unlike a predator stalking prey. Watching him sends more arousal flooding through you, enough that the crux of your thighs is painted with slick when Jungkook encourages them apart from behind.

You can see Taehyung’s length straining against the confines of his underwear as he stands in front of you, and he laughs softly when you reach up to pull him out, too greedy to wait. He’s beautiful, long and hard and weighing heavy in your palm. Your eyes roll up to meet Taehyung’s, deep amber and brimming with lust as you press gentle kisses to the rim of his cockhead.

The wet smack of your mouth is chased with a fluttering whimper when Jungkook slides two fingers through your dripping folds to roughly part your pussy lips. You can feel yourself dripping, can hear the dark hum Jungkook emits in response.

“You look delicious,” he rasps. “Can’t believe this parasite would rather have your blood.”

In hopes it will distract him from Jungkook’s insult, you choose that moment to swallow Taehyung down, and your plan seems to work. Taehyung’s fingers snake through your hair and his head tips back as you stretch your lips over his shaft. You find yourself whining softly around him at the feeling alone, the smooth press of his cock against your tongue.

You hollow your cheeks around Taehyung and slowly begin to suck along his length, eliciting a deep hiss from him, your hand pumping in time at the base where your mouth can’t reach.

It takes a conscious effort to hold in a moan when you feel the first touch of Jungkook’s tongue, dragged thick up your slit like a hot knife through butter. You arch your spine, your body begging for more, and his hands grip the soft flesh of your ass as he spreads you open and indulges.

Jungkook eats you like a man starved, shoving his tongue into your pussy with enough force to slide Taehyung’s cock further into your mouth. Taehyung’s tip teases into the back of your throat, and he groans when you swallow to urge him over the edge.

“Fuck, jagiya,” he pants as you continue to bob up and down, relentless, spurred on by every sloppy pass of Jungkook’s tongue. “If only that mutt could see how good you look with my cock in your mouth.”

Pleased at Taehyung’s praise and choosing to ignore his dig at Jungkook, you lean forward to take even more of him, until the whole of his glass-hard cock is crammed down your throat. You can feel drool welling up on your tongue, can feel your muscles trying not to choke around him, made all the more difficult by the way Jungkook is steadily fucking his tongue into you now.

The shudder of your throat matches the tremble in Taehyung’s hips, and you can tell he’s fighting the urge to push you past the limits of what a human can take.

There’s a part of you that wishes he would.

You gag softly as you pull off of him, giving both of you a moment to collect yourselves. One of Taehyung’s large hands pets over your hair, encouraging, and you drop your forehead down to rest in the crook of your elbow. Without the distraction of sucking Taehyung’s cock, the pleasure of Jungkook’s hot mouth on your pussy is overwhelming, and you can’t help moaning into the mattress.

“God, just like that, Koo.”

Managing to pull yourself back up for more, you coax a soft groan from Taehyung as you start to kitten lick up his shaft. Jungkook pulls away from your center just as you take Taehyung into your mouth again.

“You taste so fucking good. Bloodsucker doesn’t know what he’s missing. But he can enjoy my sloppy seconds.”

The sudden wet sound of Jungkook spitting is so loud that even Taehyung flinches, and your cunt clenches at the slick-splatter feeling. Wasting no time, Jungkook dives back in, eagerly shoving the mix of saliva and arousal into your entrance with his tongue, and it’s all you can do to focus on the cock in your mouth.

Taking Taehyung faster this time, you build up to a steady rhythm, your hands fisting the bed sheets beneath you as you swallow him down. You make an audible gulping sound with each pass, his length dipping over and over into the tight squeeze of your throat. Taehyung can’t hold back, grunting a steady stream of curses as you suck him off just the way he likes.

When Jungkook outright growls between your legs, you feel it more than hear it, and the vibrations that roll through you are enough to make your toes curl. You pull most of the way off, sliding your lips down Taehyung’s shaft to suckle at the head of his cock as you whimper gently around him.

With his fingertips gripping your ass bruising-hard, Jungkook’s lips slide up your folds until he finds the underside of your clit. Your thighs quiver violently when his tongue darts out for one rough flick over the sensitive bud. There’s no stifling the way you moan when Jungkook repeats the action, again and again, falling into a steady lapping rhythm that makes your whole body shake.

His mouth is so wet and so warm that you completely lose your ability to multitask. Your jaw goes slack around Taehyung’s length, drool spilling onto the sheets beneath you until Taehyung finally withdraws. You don’t have enough space in your brain to try and stroke his ego to keep things fair— you’re entirely lost in the heat of Jungkook’s tongue over your clit. Your hips shove back toward Jungkook’s face to grind against his mouth, your own tongue lolling out as you pant and moan.

An ice cold hand tangling in your hair is enough to get your eyes to refocus, and you glance up at Taehyung just in time for his grip to tighten. The sting of it sparkles like diamonds against your scalp as he forces your head back and watches you fuck yourself on Jungkook’s tongue.

“Feels good, jagiya?” Taehyung purrs, speaking up to be heard over the gasps and slurps of Jungkook as his mouth works your pussy, drinking up every drop.

You can’t think or speak, can’t do anything except nod dumbly and try to keep your eyes from rolling up into your skull. Taehyung cranes your head back another inch and you whimper at the pressure. “Gonna come on puppy’s tongue?”

“Uh-huh,” you manage to choke out, and you outright keen when two of Taehyung’s slender fingers reach down to find one of your nipples and twist. The shock of pleasure-pain rips through your whole body, and fuck, it’s enough. Taehyung drops his grip on your hair just as your orgasm hits, and your head bounces against the mattress as you collapse into shuddering moans, your body trembling all over.

Your thighs threaten to give out, but Jungkook’s hands find purchase under your hips to keep you up. You let him hold your weight entirely like it’s nothing at all, his face and tongue still buried in you as your pussy gushes and flutters around him.

Everything eventually softens into the warm glow of comedown, your moans dissolving to gentle whimpers, and then Jungkook slowly lowers you to the mattress. His hands slip down to keep your thighs pulled apart, and he leans in for a few more licks to your cunt, your whole body shivering with oversensitivity at each pass until he finally relents.

“First orgasm’s mine,” Jungkook remarks, like it’s casual.

You glance up to see Taehyung baring his teeth, and you roll onto your side despite how heavy your limbs still feel. “I’ll make her come harder. Let me taste you next, jagi.”

“Tae, wait,” you murmur, pushing yourself up onto your hands. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

Jungkook’s smug response comes first. “How about you do it while I fuck her?”

“What?!”

If your heart wasn’t still racing from the orgasm, it would be now at the way Taehyung’s eyes are fixed on Jungkook, like he wants to tear him limb from limb. But Jungkook just keeps talking, as if it doesn’t scare him in the slightest.

“She’s got two holes, right? If I take her in the ass, her pussy’s yours. It’s like she said— if you can’t stand me, maybe it’ll tone down the desire to, you know. Have a snack.”

There’s a visible tremor in Taehyung’s jaw as he attempts to keep himself under control. When he speaks, his voice is strained with the effort of holding back. “You’re not putting anything… anywhere until after I do. I don’t care which fucking hole it is.”

At this, you finally interject. “Taehyung’s right, Jungkook.”

The staring contest ends as they both look down at you, and your eyes jump back and forth between them as you shift onto your knees on the mattress. “We’ve wanted this and talked about it for so long. It’s only fair that he be my… first.”

Jungkook, to your surprise, seems unbothered. “That’s fine. So long as I’m your second.”

“Lay the fuck down, jagi,” Taehyung growls.

You follow the command and Taehyung settles between your thighs with a determined cold-steel gaze, his knees sinking soft divots into the mattress. He fists at his throbbing-hard cock as you spread yourself for him, and when he lines himself up with your entrance, you hook your legs over his hips.

In the dim light, there’s an ice-shimmer sheen on his cock, still glossed with your drool. The tip nudges at your center, and you’re drenched for him, you can feel it, slick from Jungkook’s mouth and wet with your own arousal that drips down to coat his waiting length.

A shiver runs through you at the touch of Taehyung’s hand over yours, and he turns your palm up so he can interlace your fingers together.

“Jagiya,” Taehyung murmurs. “I love you.”

His free hand slips down to anchor over your hip, and then you feel him, the glass-cold weight of his cock starting to press into you, long and impossibly hard.

“Oh god, Taehyung,” you gasp, your head kicking back against the bed. “I love you, too. So much.”

You have to shut your eyes to focus on the feeling, on adjusting to the stretch of him, your brow furrowing as you try to breathe through it.

The warm brush of a callused hand over your cheek instantly softens your expression, and your eyes flutter open again to take in Jungkook above you. His warm familiarity makes you smile, as does the sweet expression on his face as he hovers over you.

“Hi,” Jungkook says simply, and you tip your chin up enough for him to understand what you want. He leans forward and his mouth captures yours in an upside-down kiss, one that you can’t help but gasp into when Taehyung fully bottoms out inside you.

Jungkook pulls back as your breath flutters into his mouth. “Is it okay? He’s not hurting you?”

You shake your head, eyes dropping closed as Jungkook trails kisses along the line of your jaw and down your neck. “God, you took him so well.” His voice smolders against your skin.

As if attempting to regain your focus, you feel Taehyung’s hand slip between your legs. His thumb begins to trace gentle circles over your clit, and your walls clench around him in response. “Oh fuck, Tae.”

“Can I move, jagi?” he grunts, and you nod, punctuated with a soft whimper.

“Please, Tae. I need to feel you.”

You barely get the words out before Jungkook’s mouth finds yours again, and your tongue licks hungrily against his as Taehyung slowly starts to move. His cock is so thick, heavy and smooth like marble as he glides over your ridges, and you moan eagerly against Jungkook, gripping the back of his neck like a lifeline as Taehyung’s hips fall into a steady rhythm.

“Oh my god,” you have to break away from Jungkook to gasp. “Oh my god, Tae.”

“Bet that tight little pussy feels so good,” Jungkook murmurs, lips brushing over your ear. When he pulls back, you open your eyes to take him in.

“Jungkook,” you nearly whine his name, overwhelmed at the way Taehyung has started to jostle you on his cock. “Wanna make you feel good too.”

The pads of his fingertips trace delicately over your cheek, and then his thumb slips down to pull at your bottom lip.

“Do you wanna take my cock in this pretty mouth?” The hand tracing over your lip slips lower, until his warm palm is closed over the column of your neck. You can feel the heat of him in every beat of your pulse, the hummingbird thrum of your very human heart. “And let me fuck your throat?”

An overwhelming desire to be filled from both ends makes your breath stutter in your chest, and you grip his forearm with both of your hands, nails digging into his warm skin. “Y-yes, Jungkook,” you answer, working hard to get the words out with how heavy Taehyung is stroking into you. “I need it.”

Jungkook dips forward to brush his lips over yours again, just the lightest touch. “I love you,” he murmurs softly against your mouth.

“I love you,” you repeat, your voice a near whisper.

Another kiss, and he’s smiling when he pulls back. “Be a good girl and open up for me.”

As Jungkook steps away to tug down and step out of his boxers, you feel Taehyung slow his thrusts, and then you gasp a little at how deep his cock sinks into you when he shifts forward to push you both up the bed.

“You feel so good, jagi,” Taehyung groans, and you can’t help but whimper when he moves you easily, grabbing your legs and slinging them roughly over his shoulders.

A yelp escapes your lips when Taehyung hooks his arms over your thighs and pulls them flush to his chest, causing your ass to lift off the mattress entirely. With the way he has you bent, the majority of your weight should be resting in your arms and upper back pressed flat to the bed, possibly painfully. But Taehyung holds you up so effortlessly that you feel like you weigh nothing at all.

The angle also shoves you just far enough back that your head tips over the edge of the bed, and you’re grateful for this small concession from Taehyung, to let Jungkook have his way peacefully, because he knows it’s what you want, too.

As Jungkook steps in to hover over you, Taehyung starts to bounce you on his cock again, and he fills you up so perfectly like this that you can only moan, your head tilting all the way back.

Jungkook’s hands pet down the length of your neck until he finds your breasts, angled up toward him and jiggling with every fierce thrust as Taehyung picks up the pace. You whimper when Jungkook’s palms close around your tits, and you feel the head of his dick toy at your bottom lip, gliding wet with precum that has already started to leak from his slit.

Letting your eyes flutter closed, you give yourself over to the pleasure welling up inside of you and stick your tongue out to guide Jungkook in. His groan is nearly a growl as his cock presses into your mouth to weigh your tongue down heavy, then slips even further back until he’s teasing at the clench of your throat.

The stretch of being used by both of them lights you up all the way through, like a live wire.

For a moment, you find yourself wishing that you weren’t human, that they didn’t have to worry about being gentle to keep you from getting hurt, that Jungkook and Taehyung could truly do whatever they wanted to you.

The thought is exciting and terrifying, and your heart skips a beat in your chest.

Jungkook holds himself still once he’s pushed all the way in, and your throat bulges up at the width of him. You have to remind yourself that at least for now, you are human, and you need to keep breathing.

Taehyung is thrusting balls-deep into your pussy now, and though Jungkook hasn’t started his own strokes yet, the way Taehyung shoves into you is enough to gently rock Jungkook’s length back and forth in the heat-clutch of your throat.

You hear Jungkook moan above you. “Oh fuck yeah, just like that.”

His hips just barely start to move in time, out to match each of Taehyung’s thrusts in, back into your throat every time Taehyung’s cock drags out of your cunt. All you can do is lay there and take it from both of them, a fragile fucktoy, drool slipping down your chin while Jungkook’s hands knead at your breasts and Taehyung’s thumb rolls over your clit.

“Look so good like this,” Taehyung grunts as he presses his lips to your calf hooked over his shoulder. “Wanna make you come on my cock, jagi.”

The plea makes you moan enough to gag around Jungkook, and he relents to let you catch your breath, strings of spit spider-webbing out of your mouth as you pant and laugh a little.

“Fuck me harder, Taehyung,” you breathe. “I can take it.”

It feels like you might bruise from the intensity at which Taehyung begins to stroke into you at your command, but it’s so good, you can’t imagine ever caring about the marks he’ll leave behind. The slap of skin on skin is loud, the way you moan louder still. The pleasure of it rushes up in your bloodstream and hits hard enough to make you dizzy, and the relentless rub of Taehyung’s thumb over your clit pushes you to the edge overwhelmingly quickly.

“Jungkook,” you gasp, your head tipping back towards him. “Please. Want you in my mouth when I come.”

“God,” Jungkook groans, nearly laughing as he slips his thick cock between your lips again. “You are so fucking hot.”

You take Jungkook back into your mouth, and you can already feel your walls starting to flutter around Taehyung as his cock plunges into you over and over. Jungkook’s heavy breathing and Taehyung’s strangled moans mix together in a discordant harmony, underscored by the wet sounds of your throat and your pussy as they fuck you from both ends. Your orgasm mounts, coiling tight in your core, undeniable now.

“That’s it, jagiya,” Taehyung groans. “Come for us.”

You nearly sob around Jungkook’s shaft as you reach your peak, your hips shoving up wildly in Taehyung’s grasp, your entire body overwhelmed by pleasure. Wave after wave of it washes through you, and your pussy pulses for what feels like an eternity, soaking Taehyung’s length in your juices.

Jungkook pulls out again to let you breathe, and you collapse back against the bed. The rush of air into your lungs is so sharp that it stings a little. Your heartbeat slams in your chest as Taehyung withdraws too, and then he leans down to cover your body with his.

His perfect lips find yours and he kisses you deeply, and it takes all the effort you have left to move your mouth against his.

“You’re beautiful, jagiya,” Taehyung murmurs against your skin. “You feel like heaven.”

“I love you, Taehyung,” you manage to whisper back.

“Aw,” Jungkook’s voice drips thick with sarcasm, and you’re ashamed to realize that you’d momentarily forgotten his presence. “What a lovely couple. Guess that orgasm makes the score one-to-one, huh Tae-Tae?”

You shiver a little at the loss of Taehyung’s body over yours as he gets to his feet, inhumanly fast, to move towards Jungkook.

“You know, I have no idea what she sees in you,” Taehyung scoffs.

Jungkook barks a laugh. “That’s fine. ‘Cause pretty soon you’ll be seeing me in her.”

Your heart is in your throat as you watch the two of them circle each other, their eyes burning with hatred. A low warning sound reverberates from between Taehyung’s teeth, but Jungkook just keeps going. “What do you think, bloodsucker? Ready to try eating pussy now that you’re not a virgin anymore?”

“I’d much prefer dog for my next meal, if I’m honest,” Taehyung spits.

“I’d love to see you try.”

“Please.” Your voice comes out shattered, and you kneel up on the bed, grabbing both of them by the bicep in a feeble human attempt to pull them apart. You know you don’t have the real strength to move either of them, but they clearly choose to relent, each taking a few reluctant steps back.

“I want both of you,” you exclaim, close to tears. “Please, please don’t fight.”

There’s a tense moment of silence, and you break it the only way you can think to. “Jungkook,” you shift to better face him. “You really meant what you said? About taking me… in the ass?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he fumbles for his words. “I-I mean, we don’t have to. I was just saying shit to make him mad, really.”

“But do you want to?” you press him.

Jungkook blinks. “I want to do anything with you,” he says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and your heart melts open.

“I want it, too.”

“I– really?”

You nod, unashamed. “I’ve tried it before, by myself. And I want that with you.”

“How many fingers?” Jungkook’s eyes go dark with lust when he asks the question.

“Two,” you breathe.

His mouth pulls into a dirty smile. “Might have to work you up to three if you want to take me.”

“Taehyung?” You turn towards him when you ask for his consent to continue, and he answers by leaning in for a kiss that steals all the air from your lungs.

Your kisses deepen and intensify until they’re a clash of tongues and teeth as Taehyung joins you to kneel on the bed. Jungkook disappears off to dig through your bathroom cabinets, and there’s a smug look on his face when he returns with a bottle of lube in hand.

Hands still clutching at Taehyung’s neck, you break the kiss momentarily to look over your shoulder as Jungkook settles behind you, and you spread your knees wide for him. The snap of the bottle cap is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, and it’s chased by the thick squelch of Jungkook depositing lube onto his waiting fingers.

“This shit’s cold,” he complains, and you laugh softly against Taehyung’s mouth.

“Everything feels cold to you.”

You reach back with one hand to better spread yourself for him, and then you whimper as you feel Jungkook’s warm, wet fingers start to trace over the rim of your hole.

It feels like you can barely catch your breath before Taehyung’s mouth is on yours again, kissing you hungrily. His teeth roll over your bottom lip, and you moan into his mouth as Jungkook simultaneously pushes a finger into your ass.

Hot pleasure overwhelms you as Jungkook slips all the way in, and Taehyung’s marble lips release yours to trail an icy path over your jaw.

“Fuck, Koo,” you groan as you adjust to the stretch of him, already so much better than your own touch. “I need another.”

“God,” Jungkook exhales in disbelief. “I’ll try. You’re so fuckin’ tight back here.” Attempting to work you open, he starts to rock his finger slowly in and out of you, and you whine again.

The glass-cold touch of Taehyung’s hand brushing over your hip makes you jump a little, and then he traces further down to roll his fingers over your clit, and your spine arches. The soft circles he begins to trace melt you open, and you can feel every muscle in your body slacken, including the tight ring swallowing up Jungkook’s finger.

It’s just enough that he’s able to squeeze a second in.

“Look at that,” Jungkook chuckles darkly. “The leech is helping.”

You wrap a hand firmly around Taehyung’s cock, jutting up proudly between his legs, if only for a tether to ground you, to keep you from slipping out of your body entirely. Taehyung’s groan shudders over your skin as you slowly start to pump his diamond-hard length.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, scissoring his digits inside of you, and you press your hips back to beg for more until he’s shoved in to the hilt.

Taehyung’s deep voice purrs in your ear. “You smell incredible, jagiya.” There’s a sheen to his ochre eyes when you glance up at him. You’re not scared, not really, but your pulse quickens in your throat nevertheless. You know he can hear it, too.

“Tae,” you breathe, unable to get more words out, not with the way Jungkook’s fingers are relentlessly fucking your ass open.

Taehyung ducks his head and you gasp at the cold shock of his tongue when he full-on licks up the side of your neck. He keeps going, tonguing you in thick, slow drags, starting to groan softly in the back of his throat with each one. You let your head tip back to allow him access to more of your skin as you continue to work his cock in your hand.

You know you’re dancing with the devil, especially when you feel the lightest scrape of his teeth over your neck, but it feels too good to stop.

There’s a slow burn stretch at your rim as Jungkook just barely manages to fit a third finger past it. You will your body to relax so you can take him all the way inside, and you can’t help but moan at the overwhelming fullness. “Oh my fucking god, Koo.”

“Look so pretty on my fingers like this,” Jungkook grunts, pairing his words with a harsh slap to your asscheek that makes you yelp. “Can’t wait to see what you look like on my cock.”

Like a reflex, Taehyung growls against your neck, and you tremble at the feeling, at the sound of his teeth grinding together so close to your throbbing pulse.

“Taehyung,” you choke out as you release your grip on his cock and Jungkook’s fingers withdraw from your ass. You take Taehyung’s face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Do you want to taste me?” His eyes flash dark with lust as he nods.

Jungkook is already shifting to sit at the edge of the bed, and he reaches for the lube again to pour more out, hissing softly as he fists the sticky gloss over his thick shaft. His legs part to give you room, and you back your ass up towards him. You can’t help but squeak a little when his hands close over your hips and he picks you up, your feet hovering an inch above the floor.

“Spread your legs,” Jungkook instructs, and you do. “Pull your knees up and rest your feet on my thighs.” You nervously find your footing over his firm muscles, but you’re a little scared to bear your full weight down.

Jungkook laughs when he realizes why you’re hesitating. “You can’t hurt me, it’s okay.”

At his encouragement, you press your feet more firmly into Jungkook’s thighs, your own legs shaking slightly with tense anticipation. He keeps his hands gripped tight to your hips, heat radiating out from where his palms press against your skin, and his voice is thick with lust when he speaks again.

“That’s it, baby. Line it up for me.”

You reach behind you to wrap your hand around his cock, and you can feel it pulsing hotly as you arch back to let his tip kiss against your rim.

“Go slow,” you breathe, and Jungkook leans in to press a kiss to your shoulder.

“‘Course I will. Don’t wanna hurt you.”

Inch by inch, he gently starts to sink you down to sheath him, pausing periodically to give you time to adjust. Your mouth drops open at the overwhelming feeling of Jungkook’s thickness stretching you open. It’s so intense that you want to squirm, to run away, the soles of your feet flexing restlessly against his thighs.

Your eyes flutter open again to find Taehyung knelt down, watching the two of you intently with a soft furrow in his brow.

“Tae,” you murmur. “Need your mouth.”

That’s all you have to say, and then he’s crawling towards you, settling on his knees between Jungkook’s spread legs. You shiver at the touch of Taehyung’s fingers as he pulls the lips of your pussy apart, and then he leans in to swipe his tongue through your folds just as Jungkook drops you an inch lower on his cock, and you whine loudly at the sweet rush of pleasure.

“Just like that,” you gasp to both of them, your head lolling back against Jungkook’s chest. “Oh, fuck.”

Taehyung’s tongue traces down to your entrance, slurping greedily at the wetness pooled there before dragging back up to your clit. The mirror-cold slide of his wet mouth over you is incredible, enough to make your toes curl when paired with the pressure of Jungkook’s hot cock pushing into your ass.

You feel the tight muscle of your rim spasm, and you sink another inch down, causing Jungkook to groan harshly in response. Just as you realize that you can feel his thighs flush against your asscheeks, his voice is in your ear.

“That’s it, baby. Took all of me in this tight little ass.”

“You feel so good, Koo,” you whimper, turning over your shoulder to find his mouth with yours. “So big,” you groan against his lips, and he smiles back.

As if to distract you, Taehyung’s teeth just barely brush over the hood of your clit, and you nearly bite Jungkook’s bottom lip off. You pull back to look down at Taehyung, and he smiles shyly between your thighs, feigning innocence.

“Watch it, bloodsucker,” Jungkook mutters, his voice strained. “Guess you need more practice.”

“No,” you manage to gasp, struggling to catch your breath between the two of them. “I liked it. Please, Tae.”

Taehyung leans in to repeat the motion, and the scrape of his teeth sends a hot spark of pain through you, enough to make your eyes squeeze shut and every muscle in your body pull taut. You can hear Jungkook groan behind you as your ass clenches around his cock like a vice.

“Shit,” Jungkook’s voice over your shoulder startles you slightly. Your lashes flutter open in time to see him reach his foot out and nudge at Taehyung’s thigh, not particularly gentle. “Keep fucking doing that.”

Taehyung obliges, alternating gentle passes of his tongue with increasingly rough drags of his teeth across your sensitive bud. The steady swings between pleasure and pain make your head spin, until Taehyung’s husky voice drags you back from the brink of all-encompassing pleasure.

“You’re dripping, jagiya.”

You whimper, unable to form words to respond, and then you can only moan as you feel one of Taehyung’s delicate fingers work itself into the heat of your pussy with a wet squelch.

“Pup’s so big and you’re so little,” Taehyung continues. “There’s no room left. Can barely get a finger in here.”

“I want to take you too, Tae,” you plead. “I want both of you.” It’s not just want at this point– you’re more sure than ever that you have to have this, both of them, together. “Please.”

Taehyung’s face darkens with concern. “We’ll break you.”

“Then break me,” you practically growl. “I need it.”

You’re expecting Taehyung to argue back, forever concerned for your safety, but to your surprise, he surges up to kiss you instead. A soft whimper spills from your mouth into his, and you tangle your fingers in his long dark hair and taste him until he pulls away.

As if to beckon him in, you wordlessly tilt your hips toward Taehyung as best you can with Jungkook’s thick cock still fully sheathed in your ass. Taehyung’s hands sink into the mattress on either side of Jungkook’s hips as he positions himself in front of you.

“Breathe, jagi,” Taehyung reminds you.

Your lungs burn as you inhale deep, and you try desperately to relax as you feel the tip of his glass-hard length teasing at your drenched entrance. Taehyung slowly starts to push in, and your hands search for purchase along the lean, flexing muscles in his arms, your nails attempting to scratch over skin that won’t give.

There’s a steady throb between your legs as Taehyung gently nestles himself all the way into your cunt, his cock pressed tight to Jungkook’s with only the thin barrier of your body between them. This feeling of fullness is beyond anything you’ve ever experienced, and the sensation of taking both of them at once is overwhelming. It’s spine-chilling cold and blood-boiling heat all in one, their cocks crammed so deep inside you that you swear you can feel them in your throat.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses, and he can’t quite hide the waver of pleasure that paints his voice. “Your dick’s fucking cold.”

“You’re actually just a fucking furnace,” Taehyung spits back, but it’s chased with a soft groan.

Your mind lags, dazed with pleasure, but it slowly occurs to you that the temperature combination must feel equally good for them. Even if their egos won’t let them admit it.

“Move.” No one is more shocked than you at the commanding tone of your voice when you speak. “Both of you. Stop talking and fuck me.”

Jungkook acts first, his hands tightening on your hips to lift you, and the tight clutch of your ass dragging up the length of his cock makes you both gasp. Taehyung watches closely as Jungkook falls into a steady rhythm, and then he starts to roll his hips to match it, thrusting into your pussy each time Jungkook pulls your ass back down over his cock.

None of you can keep your composure or bite back your moans now, the pressure of their cocks simultaneously fucking into you feels too good. You can hear Jungkook panting in your ear, can see a muscle flexing in Taehyung’s jaw as he groans with every upstroke, and you begin to shove your hips up in time with their motions, your feet pressing firmly against Jungkook’s thighs for leverage.

“That’s it, baby,” Jungkook grunts. “Fucking ride us.”

Taehyung shifts slightly, putting all his weight into one hand to lift the other off the mattress and toy with your clit. You keen as he rolls it between his thumb and index finger, and you feel the chill of his mouth close over the slope of your neck.

“Oh fuck, Tae,” you whine as he starts to suck hard against your skin, enough that you’re sure he’ll leave a mark. You can feel every muscle in your body tightening, a dam of arousal threatening to burst deep inside of you, and something primal awakens there.

In this moment, you know exactly what you need.

“Taehyung,” you groan softly, and you already know he wants it too. “Do it, Tae. Please. Bite me.”

“Do not fucking turn her,” Jungkook growls, slamming your ass down so hard on his thighs that you nearly choke on a gasp. Taehyung’s mouth sucks even harder, right over your pulse point.

“No, no,” you protest. “Just a little drink, Tae. Please. It felt so good last time, I know. We both want it.” You’re outright begging, insatiable– your eyes threaten tears with how badly you really do want this, need this.

Like it takes every ounce of strength he has, Taehyung manages to pull himself off your neck, his hips still pistoning into you. “Jagi, I–I’ll frenzy. I’ll hurt you.”

You shake your head. “Jungkook is here, you can stop yourself. I know you can. Please, Tae, if you love me.”

As if those words were all he needed to hear, you see Taehyung rear back, and then you scream as his teeth pierce the skin of your neck. “It’s good Taehyung, it’s good,” you choke out, trying to keep it together. Your breath comes ragged now, in harsh, broken sobs.

Taehyung is loud when he drinks from you, slurping and gasping and groaning unabashedly, and you shiver violently at the icy wash of his tongue circling over your wounds.

The world begins to blur at the edges, bleeding out, like time itself is slowing. You feel your climax winding tighter inside of you even as your body starts to go weak, held up like a ragdoll in Jungkook’s grip as they both continue to fuck you full.

Jungkook growls like a clap of thunder, and it’s enough to bring Taehyung back to his senses. His head snaps up angrily, your blood momentarily forgotten. You just barely manage to focus your gaze on Taehyung’s face to see him bare his teeth in a vicious snarl at Jungkook, more monster than man.

“What is it, pup? Want a taste?”

Your mind moves slowly, and just as you think to yourself that Jungkook will scoff at the very idea, maybe even try to fight Taehyung for suggesting it, a new sensation flutters against your neck. It’s unmistakable, the touch of Jungkook’s tongue over the same spot, hot enough to burn the delicate skin that was just made so cold by Taehyung’s mouth.

“Oh fuck,” you moan loudly.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Taehyung purrs, chased with a dark laugh, and your mind is too dizzy to know which of you he’s asking.

“She’s sweet,” Jungkook confirms, and your eyes roll back at the warmth of his tongue when it returns to your neck. Taehyung laughs even louder.

“He’s not gonna leave any for me. Can I give you one more set, jagi?”

“Please,” you gasp. “I’m so fucking close, Tae.”

Your head feels heavy on your neck now, and it takes all the strength you have to look at Taehyung when you feel the brush of his marble palm against your cheek. “I love you,” he murmurs, and then there’s an animal sound as his teeth tear a fresh gash into the other side of your neck.

Two cocks filling you, two tongues drinking you, your mind at the precipice of blacking out, the sweet pleasure-pain of ice and fire twisting all the way through your body: it’s all too much. Taehyung’s second bite sends you violently over the edge, and your vision goes black as you come with a strangled scream. White noise roars in your ears like TV static, and you feel the unmistakable throb of two loads filling you up simultaneously as your cunt pulses in an endless, overwhelming orgasm.

A voice somewhere in the back of your mind asks if these might be your final moments alive, if this shaky inhale you can barely take is the last breath you’ll ever breathe, and then the world goes dark as you lose consciousness entirely.

~*~

You wake up with a deep gasp, like coming up for air.

You’ve been laid flat on your back on the bed, and you sit up so fast your head spins, making it momentarily impossible to focus on anything. You squeeze your eyes shut again, trying to steady yourself.

“Oh thank god,” Taehyung’s worried voice comes from your right side, and you feel both of his hands close over yours. “I was just about to call Seokjin. Do you still want me to?”

The thought of having to explain any of this to Taehyung’s adoptive father makes your face burn with embarrassment.

“No, no, Tae,” you manage to croak. “I’m fine, seriously. Don’t call him.”

“You’re lucky,” you hear Jungkook scoff from your left. “I had about five more seconds left of you playing dead before I was going to tear vampy here to shreds. Guess there’s always next time.”

You wrench your eyes open in disbelief to find Taehyung and Jungkook staring at you, brows creased with worry.

“N-next time?”

“Do you still want that, jagiya?” Taehyung asks softly, and you have to swallow down the urge to cry. “You still want both of us?”

“More than anything,” you choke out, eyes darting between the two of them, trying to take them both in at once. “I-I’m sorry I pushed myself too hard, but please, I still need–”

“It’s okay,” Taehyung interrupts you. “We clearly all got caught up in the moment. I’m just glad you’re okay. And now we know better, for… next time.”

You still can’t believe what you’re hearing, and you turn to look at Jungkook, trying to make sense of it.

Jungkook just shrugs. “Neither of us have ever felt anything close to what we felt tonight. I mean, it was insane. And we both love you, that much is obvious. So as long as you’re still breathing, I guess we’re gonna have to learn to play nice.”

Taehyung laughs darkly as your jaw drops open. “It’s true, jagiya. I never would’ve believed it before tonight. But, despite all odds, it would seem we’ve found a way to… compromise.”

lol i'm so sorry this was the dumbest thing i've ever written bye

#jungkook smut #taehyung smut #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #taekook x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #jungkook x y/n #taehyung x y/n #bts twilight AU #bts smut #bts crack #i am insane bye

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allysunny · 3 months

Note

Hello! First of all, congrats for your 200 followers ❤️✨. Great job!

Second? I wanna request

8+ 19 in patching up wounds prompt with Nanami ❤️🤭

"Don't go to work today" + "I've got you" + Patching up wounds x Nanami Kento

Words: 3.4k words

Warnings: Some angst, established relationships, mentions of wounds, bruises and stitches, very soft Nanami. If I missed anything, let me know!

A/N: Aaaaaa thank you so much Tarja! It makes me super happy that you decided to request, you know I'm a huuuge fan of your stuff!

This was an entry for my 200 Follower Event, which is still ongoing, so you can request something, if you'd like!

I wrote this in practically one sitting because it was hurting my heart. I knew exactly what to do when I saw the prompts you picked (and I think your choice was quite deliberate as well hahaha!) and I wanted to deliver the best thing ever. It's a bit short, but I just knew if I were to extend myself, we'd end up with a whole novel and I'd get carried away.

Without much further ado, I hope you all enjoy this! I had a blast writing it - I want to hug this man and never let him go! <3

Nanami’s tired sigh signalled his arrival home.

Instinctively, you got up from your spot on the couch and made your way towards him. And the vision before you shocked you to hell and back.

There’s blood all over his clothes; his once white shirt was now tainted a dozen crimson shades, and he was holding onto his stomach as he walked.

You looked at him, at his calm and collected demeanour, at the way his lips pressed into a tight line and his eyes took you in. A sigh of relief left his lips and he all but collapsed on top of you, burying his face on your hair.

“Hey – hey, careful now,” you mumbled, holding onto him tightly but still making sure he wouldn’t fall. “You’re – you’re injured. Kento, what happened?” you asked, looking up and cupping his jaw, looking for any injuries in his face. Thankfully, you find none.

“Occupational hazards,” he muttered against your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo. It relaxed him. You relaxed him, kept him grounded and sane. As long as he got to come back home to you, he’d be fine – he was sure of it.

“Come on, let’s get you out of these clothes. You need to be taken care of.” You dragged him upstairs, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, and preparing a nice bath for him. While he takes off his clothes (assuring you that he wasn’t a baby and that he could get undressed by himself), you go fetch your first aid kid, far too used to the job of patching him up after long, hard missions.

He got inside the bathtub, warm water relieving his sore muscles instantly. He hissed softly when the water reached his stomach, but he said nothing and just sat down, leaning back against the marble tiles, and closing his eyes. He wasn’t going to complain, not when he knew you were about to probably do the very same thing and reprimand him. He knew you loved him. You cared about him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, sitting by his side, and gently beginning to wash him.

“It was nothing,” he replied, eyes still closed.

“Yeah,” you scoffed in response, “Because a gash in your stomach is nothing. Why didn’t you ask Shoko to heal you up? I’m not a trained doctor, Kento.”

“It was late. Didn’t want to be out longer than necessary and possibly worry you even more about my location.” He opened his eyes, and you stared into those lovely amber pools that had never once failed to guide you. “Besides, I trust you to do it. You’ve patched me up before. Nothing you can’t do again. And I’ll heal up in no time.”

You sighed.

On one hand, it was sweet of him. Kento knew how much you worried about him, knew the restless nights you spent waiting for him to say something, text, call, just tell you that he was doing fine. It was considerate of him to get home right away.

On the other hand, it was so downright stupid. How could a man as smart as your husband think it was okay to switch the powers of a reverse curse user for your amateurish medical skills? Shoko had years of practice and experience. Your experience was based solely on fixing him up. They weren’t good, and he shouldn’t be relying on them as often as he did.

“I know that look,” he says softly, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. You could see the way he winced and tried to play it off as the water being too warm. Your husband never wanted to look weak in front of you. “I trust you. You’ve healed me up well in the past. This is nothing compared to what you’ve done before.”

You sighed and shook your head, continuing your process.

You cleaned the area around the wound, and once he was all clean, you helped him dry himself off with a towel. After that, you disinfected the wound and applied some healing ointments you knew had done the trick in the past. You covered his stomach with some bandage and gave it a soft kiss after you were done. It was sort of your magical touch – after the first time, Kento swore it was that simple thing that had managed to get him to heal up quickly and begs you to do it every time.

“There,” you said, caressing his jaw. “All done. But I’m not stitching you – last time I did it, it got all infected, and I’m not risking your health. Tomorrow, you’ll go to Shoko, and she’ll take care of this. Alright?”

“Yes Doctor Nanami,” Kento smiled dutifully and leaned over to connect his lips to yours. You could still feel some of the coppery taste of blood on his tongue, and tried to push those thoughts away as you kissed him back.

“And now, off to sleep. Doctor’s orders.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You helped him up and brought him to your bedroom, where he sat down on your bed with a small grunt. You shot him a worried expression, but he just raised his hands as to assure you everything was alright. With your help, he laid down completely, and you were quick to slot yourself in between his arms. He brought you close and kissed your temple.

“I love you. Thank you for taking care of me.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” you said, yawning right after.

Nanami smiled and kissed your temple once again, muttering sweet words of adoration until you both fell asleep.

The next day, Kento stayed home.

The only time he left, was to go to Jujutsu High, to get checked on by Shoko. You went with him, not wanting him out of your sight – not when he was injured, and the world of curses never slept.

“Everything should be fine now, but you still have to disinfect the wound some more every time you shower,” she said, fetching for the pack of cigarettes on her pocket and lighting one up and turning to you. “You did a pretty good job patching him up. Why the lack of stiches?”

“I didn’t want them to get infected like last time. I figured he’d be better off like this.”

“You still did a good job.” She puffed out some smoke and shrugged. “You’d do a fine job here with me. How about you consider it? I could use an extra set of hands and – “

“With all due respect, Ieiri, I don’t want to get my wife involved in this world.” Nanami cut her off, placing a protective arm around your waist. “It’s bad enough she has to tend to me sometimes, I won’t let her see the gruesome sights I know you have to deal with on a daily basis.”

Shoko shrugged.

“My offer still stands.”

You both thanked her and made your way home, where Nanami offered to cook up your favourite dish as an apology for getting hurt last night. You sat by your kitchen table, happily watching him as he cut and mixed and did a wonderful job at recreating the food you loved so much.

While you two waited, he took you in his arms and spun you gently around the kitchen, swaying to the rhythm of jazz playing in the radio. He hummed in your ear and kissed you gently. It was soft and slow, and the day was yours to enjoy, so you let yourself melt into his touch. Your husband was safe and sound and nothing could reach you two.

It was good. It was great.

In fact, it felt far too good to be true.

And you feared something was coming up to disrupt your peace.

“I was thinking of staying in tonight,” you said against his chest, the soft beating of his heart almost enough to lull you to sleep. Staying in. Yes. Keeping him home. Safe and sound with you.

“And why wouldn’t we?”

“Well, it’s Halloween. I thought we could go out and celebrate it.”

“We don’t have costumes.” Nanami deadpanned.

“I’m sure we’d find something. But now I just want to stay in with you. Maybe order some takeout, watch a scary movie. What do you think?”

Nanami hummed and bent down to kiss you softly once again, swallowing the soft moan you rewarded him with.

“I think that sounds perfect.”

You spent the rest of the day lazing around, curled up on the couch, watching movies or catching up with old shows that had been long forgotten. At some point, you were sure your husband was taking a nap, and you could only smile, glad he was getting some rest.

“I’m going to shower,” you yawned, looking out of the window. Afternoon was turning into night, and you wanted to clean up the laziness off your body.

“I’ll join you.”

“Ha! No, mister, you’re not going anywhere. No funny business until you’re all healed.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Can’t I shower with my wife anymore?” he faked a surprised expression, and you smiled, glad to see your husband allowed himself to be more laidback at home.

“You can, but you would have to keep your hands to yourself, and I know that’s not possible.”

“You offend me, darling. I am familiar with discipline.”

“The hell you are,” you chuckled, standing up and offering him your hand. “But come on. I need to disinfect your wound again.”

He did as you asked, and you found yourselves in the bathroom once again. You were sitting by his side as usual and were carefully tending to his wound when his phone rang.

“Just leave it – that’s Gojo’s ringtone.” He muttered with a sigh – a sigh that conveyed just how frustrated he was with his coworker.

You nodded and went back to working on his wound but were interrupted by the loud noise of his phone once again. You gave your husband a sympathetic look and he sighed once again, nodding. Standing up, you went to retrieve his phone, only to pick the call up while you returned to the bathroom.

“Hello?”

“[Y/N]? Is Nanami in there?” Gojo asked, urgency clear in his voice.

“Wow, hello to you too, Satoru. What do you want Kento for?”

“Just – please, give the phone to him.”

“Is everything okay?” Now you were getting worried. Gojo was never serious, and he sounded far too worried right now.

“Just put him on the phone!”

So, you did. You couldn’t make out just what the conversation was about. Just that Gojo was extremely worried, and he probably wanted Nanami’s help.

“Hm.” You heard your husband mutter. “I see. Shibuya. Mhm. Who else? Kusakabe? Hm.”

You tried to put the pieces together yourself.

There was something happening in Shibuya, and Gojo needed your husband’s help. Other people were going too, and by the list of names Nanami repeated, you could tell it was probably serious – a lot of people were going.

“I’ll be there in 10.” Having said this, he hung up.

“So?” you asked, looking at him.

“Something is happening in Shibuya Station. Gojo needs my help leading a team of sorcerers.”

Your stomach fell.

Of course. It was far too good to be true. The little peace you’d crafted for yourself and Nanami – it wasn’t real. And something did come to disturb it.

Grabbing the hydrogen peroxide and a cotton ball next to you, you dabbled it softly all over the wound, trying your best not to apply too much pressure. This whole thing gave you the creeps. You couldn’t tell what it was – wife’s intuition, a 5th sense. All you knew was that you did not your husband to leave the house.

You didn’t want your peace disrupted. You could feel something was about to happen.

“Please don’t,” you whispered, refusing to meet his eyes.

“What?”

“Don’t go, Kento.” You repeated, this time more firmly. “Don’t go to work please, just today” After you were done disinfecting the wound, he stood up and quickly grabbed his clothes. You knew the look in his eyes, the determined look that told you he was entering work mode, he was entering overtime.

He sighed and started walking towards the bedroom, picking the first suit he saw on his closet – the beige one, with the dark blue shirt. You liked that suit. It wasn’t very conventional, he could’ve picked a far more “normal” colour to wear like dark blue or even black – but the tan colour matched nicely with his brown eyes, and the dark blue of his shirt contrasted well with his fair skin.

“Gojo sounded worried. I think this is serious. I’ll be back in no time, you’ll see,” he told you, putting his shirt on and grabbing the holster his blunt sword.

“Please �� Kento, you’re injured.” You told him, walking to his side. “You can’t go like this!”

“Shoko healed me up, didn’t she? And so did you. I’ll be fine, I promise.” His voice was as reassuring as always, but all you felt in your stomach was a pit that threatened to swallow you whole.

“Not tonight. I – I have a bad feeling about this, I really do,” you held onto his hand, and forced him to look at you, to see the fear and worry in your eyes. He did, and stopped in his tracks, cupping your face with both his hands.

“I promise you; I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmured.

“You don’t get it – I have a terrible feeling about this mission. Please stay home,” tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and you found it hard to speak, anxiety clogging in your throat and making it burn. “Just for tonight. You can’t go tonight.”

“Honey, they need me. They need my help – what if someone is in danger?”

“Surely they can get someone other than you!” you exclaimed, tears now rolling down your cheeks. It broke his heart to see you like this, crying before him. Nanami brushed your tears away and shook his head.

“They can’t. Gojo knows how much I hate overtime. I can tell he’s being serious right now.”

“They have other sorcerers! Gojo can send in other sorcerers! It can’t always be you! Shit – Please! Kento, don’t go tonight. I’m begging you, stay home.”

Nanami looked at you, furrowing his brows ever so slightly. He knew you. Better than he knew himself, he was sure. He knew you cared about him deeply, he knew you worried like crazy. But you’d never stopped him from going on missions. Sure, you’d try to beg for just five more minutes in bed with him, wanting to cherish every second you got to hold him in your arms, and you checked up on him several times a day just to make sure he was doing fine.

But you never stopped him from doing what he had to do.

You understood how much Jujutsu Sorcery meant to him. You understood why he did what he did, and never once got in his way. You knew it was his calling, and you couldn’t stop him. After all, you loved him. And no matter how much you wanted to protect him; you would always let him do what he felt like he had to.

Today was different.

“And you want me to stay home because you… you have a feeling?” he repeated your words back, shaking his head ever so slightly. “[Y/N], you know I can’t. A feeling is not enough. They need my help.”

“They can get someone else’s!” You were crying now. Actually crying and holding onto his hands as if they were your lifeline. To you, they were. “I, I can’t explain it Kento. I just know something terrible is about to happen. And you’re injured, you haven’t healed completely yet, I… I can’t lose you Kento! I can’t – I’m not ready to say goodbye to you. I don’t think I ever will!”

You embraced him tightly, burying your face on his chest and clutching his blue shirt in your fists as you sobbed.

“I just know… I know… I can feel it… I know something awful is going to happen… Please don’t leave me – don’t leave tonight… I love you Kento, I – I can’t lose you…”

Nanami hugged you back as you sobbed, running a gentle hand through your hand in an attempt to comfort you. He pondered his choices.

Gojo sounded desperate. Something big had clearly happened and he was needed. No other sorcerer could rival his technique alone – there was a good reason, after all, he was a Grade 1 Sorcerer. He could go out and help. They probably needed his help more than anything else. And his guidance.

But you… You just looked so frightened, so anxious. Scared that some force more powerful than him would take his soul, his life. He titled your head up with his other hand and took you all in. Your eyes were red from all the crying, your nose was runny, and your lips were puffy and open as you mumbled a string of pleas, all with the same intent. Don’t leave tonight.

He’d never seen you like this.

And he was positive he never wanted to do so ever again.

“Okay,” he whispered.

Your eyes were wide as saucers and your breath quickened.

“Really?”

Nanami hummed in response and kissed you sweetly. You, however, kissed him with all you were feeling. The anxiety and fear of losing him, the desperation to keep him by your side, the undying love you had for him. You poured all these emotions into your kiss, hoping they’d speak louder than the words you couldn’t come up with. You then looked at him and teared up again, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. Bread, fireplace, and fresh new books. He smelled like home.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled, still running his hand through your hair. “I’ve got you.”

You stood like that for a while, in his arms while he whispered soothing words in your ear.

After a while, he picked you up and took you to the living room, sitting on the couch and placing you on his lap. You snuggled into him, refusing to let him go. Your hands were all over him, and you tried to get closer to him, as if that were even possible. You were so tangled up; it was hard to tell where he ended, and you began.

Nanami silently took the TV remote and picked a movie you had mentioned wanting to watch for Halloween night. He held you close, covering both of your bodies with a blanket, his hand firmly on your thigh to remind you that he was here.

Gojo needed his help. That was true. And however dramatic he may be, he could be serious when he wanted, and forego his cocky, careless demeanour.

But you needed him. And Nanami had spent far too many nights out in missions, coming home battered black and blue, covered in blood and big purple bruises, worrying you to death. He’d seen how you looked at him earlier – like you truly believed he would be taken away from you. And it broke his heart.

Gojo could manage on his own. He’d done it before. Nanami had sacrificed far too many hours for Jujutsu Sorcery. Surely, he’d done enough to warrant a night off, to spend with the love of his life. Right?

“Thank you,” you mumbled into the crook of his neck, trying not to cry again.

“I love you. And I don’t want to worry you.” Was his ushered reply as he placed soft kisses on the side of your head. He felt you smile into his skin, and the gesture was enough to make him melt in your embrace.

Yeah.

He’d surely done enough to earn a night with you.

Gojo could manage.

For now, all he wanted was to curl up with his wife on the couch, and comfort her until she no longer cried, watch a movie or two, chuckle when she got scared and hid in his chest.

Yeah.

He’d earned it.

Because nothing could ever matter more than you.

A/N: And that's it!!! I hope I managed to give all Nanami fans some solance - in my head, this is how it went down. Nanami stayed home with us, and later he retired and we moved to Malaysia. All is well.

I hope you all enjoyed it! I certainly did - I love writing for Nanami. He's such an interesting character!

Have a wonderful day (and weekend) ahead, everyone! <3

315 notes · View notes

dreamersparacosm · 1 year

Text

austin butler - clumsy

warnings ; none

prompt ; in which your celebrity crush causes you to become a flustered, blubbering mess.

a/n ; a little something fun i wrote during the fall but never published! it’s basically anxious!reader and honestly how I imagine myself reacting to meeting aus so enjoy xoxo

Okay, don’t panic.

Do not panic.

It’s just a man. A man with blonde, curly locks, blue eyes, over 6 feet tall… but still, a man. Nothing special. You could probably find ten of him walking down Rodeo Drive.

Except that’s probably not true either.

It is Austin Butler, after all.

You hike the tail of your dress higher as you descend up the stairs to the red carpet, inhaling as much oxygen as possible to tame your nerves. It does nothing for you beside provide a placebo effect of calmness. Your publicist, Jane, stands next to you with her eyebrows furrowed in permanent worry, a crinkle she’s had since the day she took you on. “[Y/N], did you get a chance to look at your seating arrangement?”

“Uh, no, not yet,” You respond slowly, wincing slightly as you brace yourself for her reaction. She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose before turning towards you.

“You know what, that’s fine, sweets. Just go stand on the carpet so we can take these pictures,” She goes back to her clipboard full of tedious things like timing and interviewers and stupid seating arrangements, and you’re trying to stay focused, but how can you do that when Austin Butler is standing 8 feet away from you, posing on the red carpet?

You’re pretty sure you’re drooling.

Whoever keeps leaving his shirts unbuttoned is a menace to society and needs to be locked away for endangerment to the general public.

This whole idiotic schoolgirl crush began relatively long ago, when he was still deeply in love with Vanessa Hudgens and playing a teen heartthrob on The Carrie Diaries. You weren’t even famous at that point, just a mediocre commercial actress trying to get her big break. Once you finally booked your first big role, the crush faded away (only the tiniest amount) but that all came crashing down like an avalanche when you saw Elvis with your best friend.

They probably could’ve posted the entire movie on a porn website and made the same amount of money. And, thus, your crush ensued, full throttle and invading your every thought at the worst moments. Including this one.

Jane kicks the back of your leg, cursing under her breath as you tear your eyes away from him. You’re not new to this scene, you’ve been in major leading roles and you’ve been nominated for Oscars. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that at your core, you are a complete and utter mess. A klutz. A loser with some money in the bank.

So, you take the pictures, with not too many mistakes as you expected, just a few shots of you blinking while smiling. You’re sure they’ll end up on Twitter where your fans will laugh about it while saying how much they love you.

This part always goes by fast. It’s camera flashes, smiles that are strained under the bright lights, talks with interviewers that always go far longer than expected, and then before you know it, you’re being ushered into a tight room with celebrities you had only dreamed of seeing in real life. Jane is glued to your side as you wait for your turn to enter the theater.

Despite the cool temperature of Los Angeles, you’re somehow drenched in sweat. You’ve done this before, you know that. But that doesn’t stop your entire body from going into fight or flight mode, teetering towards flight.

“What’s the hold up?” You hear a female’s voice yell out, and you almost think it’s Jane before you hear her chuckle beside you.

“Speak that truth. I am so sick of these fucking Oscars dimwits wasting my time,” Jane says loudly enough for the girl to hear it, and before you know it, they’re enthralled in a full-blown conversation. If you weren’t trying to fan your armpit sweat, you might’ve joined.

Maybe it’s a good idea to find out where you’re sitting. Probably will need to know that before you enter. You can only assume they’ll sit you next to your last co-star, Timothee Chalamet. What a delight that would be (and that’s not sarcasm, he always smells like cashmere and some type of forest.)

You turn your body slightly, eyeing Jane and the girl she’s talking to. She’s a redhead, also wearing a suit and clearly another publicist that has been in the position for far too long to enjoy it.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a male figure standing next to the redhead. Hm. A black suit. Your eyes trail over his body, a soft black lace shirt that is half-unbuttoned peeking over the hem. How nice. You love that look on men.

Oh, fuck.

Your body freezes. Mouth runs dry. Sweat shrivels back up into your body only to start forming at impossible speeds. Heart palpates so quickly you think you might be going into cardiac arrest.

In front of you, is Austin Butler. And he completely, totally, entirely, caught you checking out his entire body, head to toe.

There’s a smirk on his face that is undeniably directed towards you, eyes glimmering with amusement. You can’t even believe that you’re looking directly at him. He can’t be real, he has to be a figment of your imagination.

“Come here often?”

You did not just speak.

No, you didn’t. That couldn’t have been real. That couldn’t have been what you just said. After years of dreaming about this moment, that can’t have been what your brain and tongue agreed on.

He chuckles, a deep one that rumbles through his chest, and says, “I try not to make it a habit. You?”

You entangle your fingers with each other, hoping the sweat that has gathered on them just slides right off. “Me either. Trying to cut down on my presence and all that.”

He raises his eyebrows quizzically, that soft smile that curves upon his lips widening a little, “Well, can’t say the Oscars is the best place to do that.”

“Yes, well…” You trail off. Thoughts empty. Brain just a shallow void with nothing but dirty, filthy fantasies about him floating around. Oh god, get a grip.

And he should end the conversation right there, then back around and not acknowledge the weird girl who clearly hasn’t had enough media training. But, he doesn’t. Instead, he sticks out his hand for you to shake, and says, “I’m Austin. Austin Butler.”

“I know,” You say almost immediately. His facial expression contorts into something unreadable, and your lips flap again to try and salvage the rest of your dignity. “I’m [Y/N].”

You shake his hand, praying to some otherworldly creature above that he won’t feel the sweat on your hands. It’s a little weird, when you touch his hand. Feels like you’re envisioning yourself with him, like you’re some kind of wizard that can tell it won’t be the last time you see him. It feels a little like something out of a rom-com, with the electricity zap and the sounds of your hearts beating erratically.

You both pull your hands away, smiling to the ground. You really, really, really hope he’ll keep talking to you.

“Nervous?” He asks, taking note of the way your thumbs twiddle and the sidestep you keep doing with your heels.

“A little. Kinda. Maybe,” You let out a sigh of relief. “I’m not really the most organized.”

“Hm. Well, I’m sure you’ll be great,” His grin widens just enough to show off his pearly white teeth that glimmer under the remaining sunlight that California has to offer.

“Thanks,” You smile back. “How about you? Nervous?”

“Always,” He responds, almost taken aback by the transparency he’s having with another celebrity. He’s never had a conversation about nerves, never felt validated enough by someone to open up about the fear that comes along with being at this level of fame. “It’s my first Oscars.”

“Right,” You say, “Well, I’ve been to a few, and honestly, I’ll let you in on a secret. Even Leonardo DiCaprio shits himself a little when the nominees are announced.”

He lets out a laugh, a real one, one that sounds like all good things in the world and you would be more than happy to capture it in a jar and keep it on your bedside forever. “Somehow, I don’t doubt that,” He switches gears, shifting his body around a little. “What afterparty are you going to?”

It’s a simple question, one you’ve been asked numerous times by other people in the industry. It usually offers a sense of dominance over who got the better invite. “Er, yes, that would be a question for my lovely publicist, Jane, because I don’t have a rat’s ass idea of where I’m supposed to go.”

He laughs. Again. Part of you is enthralled, part of you is confused as to why he thinks you’re a comedy show. Maybe he thinks you’re a joke. Yes, that makes good sense. “That honestly makes me feel better because I don’t really know where I’m going either,” He admits.

“Are you kidding?” You ask incredulously. “You look like that and you don’t know where you’re going? I think the President of the Academy Awards has a personal invite waiting for you.”

Okay, maybe you shouldn’t have said that. But really, it has to be blamed on the fact that there are a swarm of murderous bees flying around in your stomach that are making you feel woozy.

His cheeks turn a crimson glow, “Like that?”

“Oh, you know…” You trail, slowly laughing to brush off the fact that you basically just admitted your undying love to him. “Just…. That’s a great black shirt. I’m gonna buy one for my brother.”

His lips curve upwards a little more, blue eyes sparkling like little oceans. “Thanks. And, you know, you don’t look bad yourself.”

You blink twice. Did he just say that?

Before you even whip up a flirty comment, or even a funny one that’ll have him doubling over in laughter and proposing to you by tonight, you feel Jane gripping your forearm tightly. “Stop dicking around, [Y/N]. We need to go in.”

“Right, yes, totally,” You smile awkwardly over to Austin, and he returns it. You feel soft and warm and glowy inside, like you might levitate off the floor.

And then you really are levitating off the floor, because your feet miss the step and you’re falling before you even have a chance to stop yourself. Your arm extends to try and delay your inevitable fall, but it doesn’t work and you’re really sprawled out. Immediately, Jane rushes down to try and drag you up, hurriedly asking if you’re okay.

You nod slightly, balancing yourself on your knees. Thankfully, you think the vast majority of people have entered the theater and missed out on your embarrassment of epic proportions.

Well, maybe not everyone.

Suddenly, like a light peeking from beyond the clouds, you see an outstretched hand to your right. It’s tan, a male’s hand for sure. You look up to see who could possibly be nice enough to help you up. Maybe it’s God telling you it’s time to pass away.

It’s Austin. And he has a really worried look on his face that you’re shocked by, but his expression falters once he sees the look on your face. You’re smiling, a real big goofy one, because it’s so ridiculous and he’s so ridiculous and you’re pretty sure one of your heels is broken.

You place your hand in his, and his other hand wraps around your waist to help you up and steady yourself against him. Once you’re finally standing, he grins, leaning into your ear, “Remember, even Leonardo DiCaprio shits himself at the table.”

You don’t even realize his arm is still wrapped around your waist until you notice the absence of it. You giggle lightly, biting your lip. “Of course. And I think I saw Brad Pitt throw up in the bathroom last year.”

“Austin, we gotta go,” His publicist grabs his hand, and you feel a pang of disappointment. You almost think he does too, his blue eyes turning grayish as he looks back at her.

“Right,” He clears his throat. “Well, good luck tonight, [Y/N]. I hope you win.”

“You too,” The smile on your face is probably permanently tattooed on. You feel Jane’s hand on your back, slowly moving you away from him although your feet beg to stay.

“Oh, and [Y/N]?” You turn back around to face him, “Big fan of your work.”

With that, he turns away with his publicist to go and find his seat amongst the crowd. You watch him disappear, an indescribable feeling washing over your entire body. You’re also being whisked away to your table, greeted by familiar faces and friends. But it’s pretty clear that’s not the reason why you’re smiling.

Some part of your brain decides on one thing: this won’t be the last time you see him.

▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓

You decide that you like California. Not a whole lot, but enough to make you sign a contract for a new film. Normally, you believe that Los Angeles and all its surrounding cities are a dreadful structure that encapsulates all the worst features of privileged Southern California lifestyle. But the food is undeniably tasty, and your new apartment is decorated with high ceilings and well-lit rooms, so you’ll make do. You’ll be filming in sunny Calabasas, where the houses are painted a perfect shade of white, where time stills a little and every cloud is just the right amount of fluffy.

The Oscar’s had came and went, and you won, to no one’s surprise but your own. With that accomplishment came offers. People really, truly wanted to work with you, and although it baffled you, Jane was having the time of her life coordinating auditions and interviews.

Everything was truly perfect.

You flip through the pages of your fresh script, your manicured nails turning through the warm pages, the black ink bleeding onto the sheets. Jane sits across from you, feverishly scribbling something, negotiating your pay for your new film. She’ll deliver. In the end, she always does.

She hangs up her call, sighing from relief. You’re about to ask her how it went, if you got the price you wanted, before her phone blares again with that god awful ringtone she refuses to change. She answers it, a cheerful tone in her voice, “Kate? So good to hear from you! What’s going on?”

You tune out of her conversation, focusing your eyes back on the mass of paper in front of you. A new story to be told. A new character to embody. A new chapter of your life. It’s all very emotional and sappy and you almost want to cry tears of happiness, but you’ll save that for later, once you get home and crack open a bottle of wine.

You hear Jane place her phone down, and your eyes flicker back up to her. There’s an expression on her face that’s unreadable, and you’re unsure of how to process it. Oh, no. If you didn’t get the price you wanted, that would suck. Or, maybe you did and she’s just unsure on how to process emotion. You always thought she was a robot.

“I just had the weirdest phone call,” She finally speaks, scratching her forehead quizzically.

“What’s up?” You ask mindlessly, certain she’s going to tell you something personal like her cousin getting married to a farmer.

“That was Austin Butler’s publicist. She said he’s been asking about you since the Oscars.”

There’s no fucking way. She’s pranking you. Any second now, Ashton Kutcher is going to pop out behind the doorframe and say “You’ve been Punk’d!” and then maybe he’ll also bring out Austin to further your embarrassment.

“Excuse me?” You blink.

“Yeah,” She seems just as baffled as you are. “She said he’s been trying to find a way to get in contact with you, but turns out, you guys don’t have a lot of mutual friends.”

Well, that makes sense.

She continues on, “Anyway, she gave me his number and then said he wants to ask you on a date. So, do with that what you will.”

She unlocks her phone, slides it across the table to you, and you see a phone number typed into her notes. Your hand trembles as you pick up the iPhone, copying the number into your own contacts. You feel woozy, just like you did on that red carpet, just like you did the moment you locked eyes with him.

“Right, well,” You clear your throat. “I’ll just step outside and call him real quick.”

She nods, raising one eyebrow. There’s a small grin that appears on her lips, a knowing one, and you slide out the door into the hallway.

You don’t know what comes over you, or what demon compels you, but you click the number. You hear the ring. There’s a pause. Your heart drops as you think that he might not answer.

And then you hear him. His voice.

“Hello?”

“Uh, h-hi. Hi. This is, um, [Y/N]. Your publicist gave me your number.”

It almost sounds ridiculous.

“[Y/N]. You know, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you but turns out you’re not an easy person to reach,” You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Well, you know me and my presence. All time low,” You say sarcastically, and he chuckles.

“Right. Well, congratulations on your win. Very well-deserved,” His voice is deeper than you remember. There’s a slight desire that pools between your legs for a moment before you snap yourself back into reality.

“You too. Some would call it the performance of the year,” And you can’t even believe it’s happening. You’re really flirting with him.

“Thank you,” He says so softly, so charming. He’s always grateful and humble, and it makes you even more attracted to him. If that’s even possible at this point. “So, do you think there’s a chance you would allow me to take you out to dinner? Somewhere lowkey, you know, for your presence and all?”

The question is so unbelievable that you can’t even take it in. You make a few sounds, splutter over your words and trip over them like you did your own two feet at the Oscars. Your heartbeat travels up to your eardrum, pounding with every ounce of blood that travels through you. “U-uh, umm… well, you know, let me go ahead and check my schedule.” There’s a pause. You cover the reciever and scream a silent yell into the void, jumping a few feet high.

Clearing your throat, you say, “Hm. Seems like I’m free tomorrow.”

“You can’t do tonight?”

The question takes you aback. Surely, he can’t be asking that because he wants to see you. “Oh, why? Are you leaving California tomorrow?”

“Not at all,” You hear him shuffle. “I just really want to take you out.”

“Right, yes, of course.” You let his question hang in the air. You know your answer, but you like letting him think there’s a possibility you might reject him.

“I am free tonight.”

“Great,” His voice is upbeat, a newfound excitement peeking through. “Well, text me your address. I’ll send a car to pick you up.”

“Yup, totally. Super duper cool. Looking really forward to it,” You babble on, pacing the hallway you’ve trapped yourself in.

He lets out a low laugh, “Me too. I’ll see you tonight. Bye, [Y/N].”

You say your goodbyes, leaning against the wall for stability before you collapse into a puddle. Later, a janitor might come to find your lifeless body glued to the wall. Cause of death? Man built like a Greek god asks woman on date.

But, everything is fine. You’ll somehow make it.

There’s a ridiculous feeling in your heart, a warmth that spreads to your toes and fingers. Now, everything is perfect.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

masterlist + request

#austin butler #austin butler elvis #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fluff #austin butler angst #austin!elvis #austin butler smut #austin butler imagine #austin butler gif

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jupitercomet · 1 year

Note

Ok but why do I feel like toots is super independent the whole day and when she’s around her other friends and has always had the “I can take care of myself” attitude. But the second Bradley steps in front of her she kind of wants him to take over everything and loves when he’s protective? It reminds me of the tik toks where the girlfriends do everything from A-Z by themselves the whole day and as soon as the boyfriend comes home they’re like can you open this jar pls?

was this a blurb request? probably not, but I wrote one anyway because it is literally the cutest thing ever

warnings: language, that's it I think

Ryan had a plan, a three step method to get you to go on a date with him. Honestly his intention was not to find a girlfriend when he started volunteering at the shelter, but the pretty girl with bright smiles who kindly showed him around on his first day was too perfect to ignore. It was difficult to talk to you though, it was really only possible when you both happened to be volunteering at the same time, so Ryan had to use his time wisely. Hence the three step plan.

Step one: find excuses to be near you

“Do you need help with that?”

Ryan hastily makes his way over to you when he notices the large bag of kibble you’re lifting by yourself. He’s already planning out how much conversation he can fit into a trip to the back and what jokes he should tell you to get you to laugh, when you smile kindly at him.

“It’s alright,” you assure him. “I’ve got it. But thank you.”

Ryan’s sure he looks surprised, his eyes trailing down to the large bag of dog food you’re carrying. “Are you sure? Looks heavy.”

“I’m okay. I think James could use some help though.” With your head, you gesture to the other man who’s juggling a various assortment of dog toys.

Ryan can hardly react before you’re pivoting on your heel and continuing to lug the kibble bag into the back. With a sigh, he turns around, a defeated expression on his face as he picks up a few of the toys James had dropped.

The other man laughs. “Don’t even try it, man. She’s as independent as they come.”

“What do you mean?” Ryan asks as he grabs a kong.

“She never asks for help from anybody,” James looks at him dramatically. “Ever. You’re not the first guy to try the Prince Charming act on her. It does not work.”

Okay, you were independent, Ryan could get that. He liked it even. He’d just have to move on to the next step.

Step two: do something unrelated to work to get you to notice him

“Hey,” Ryan lets out a nervous breath, his hands clammy against the bright pink box he’s holding as he approaches you. “I, um, I brought doughnuts… since it’s, uh, Friday.”

Despite the awkward preamble, you light up, smiling a big toothy grin that makes Ryan’s heart stutter.

“That’s really nice of you, Ryan. We should let the others know, they’ll be super excited.”

Ryan scratches the back of his neck with a laugh. “Yeah, I was thinking, um, maybe you wanted the first—”

“Guys!” You call out to the other volunteers to get their attention. “Guess what, Ryan brought doughnuts!”

Ryan watches helplessly as everyone lines up in front of him to grab a doughnut. And, to his sheer horror, by the time the line reaches its end and you’re standing in front of him, there is only one doughnut left.

You shrug good-naturedly at the dilemma. “You should have it, Ryan. I mean, you brought them so you definitely deserve it. I'm just glad everybody else got one.”

When Ryan looks, James is laughing, mouth wrapped around a jelly-filled doughnut.

Step three: fuck all of that and just muster up the courage to ask you out

“You came!”

Ryan freezes at the sound of your excited squeal. He’d been waiting for you to come out of your office, somewhat hidden between the refurbishments of the front entrance of the shelter. He didn’t even have the chance to reveal himself before you were jumping into the arms of a very tall, very big man.

The man catches you effortlessly, supporting you with one arm as you cup his cheeks, excitedly squeezing them together. “You texted me 12 times, toots.” He says through squished lips.

“Well, yeah,” you kiss his nose. “I missed you.”

The man hums, setting you back down, but keeps his hand on your back. His other hand reveals the white bag of takeout he’s been holding. “I brought shawarma.”

“You did? You’re the best!” You tackle him with another hug, though the man hardly moves. You’re smiling brighter than Ryan’s ever seen you smile before.

“You ready to go?”

“Almost.” Unwrapping your arms from the man’s waist, you gesture to three bags of kibble stacked near a door. “I just have to get those moved into the back. But it should only take a second.”

The man eyes the bags, then you, and sets down your takeout. “You’re not carrying those, toots. They’re too big for you.”

And of course, Ryan expects you to refute this. Because, for whatever reason, you don’t accept help from anyone. Because you’re as independent as they come. Because you won’t even accept a doughnut. Instead, you hold one of his hands as the man picks up all three bags of kibble with the other.

(Which Ryan is 100% not intimidated by. He could do that too, if he wanted to… He just doesn’t want to. But he’s not scared of this literal orc you’re animatedly talking to as you swing your interlocked hands.)

“Well, I’ll be damned.” A sudden laugh makes Ryan jump and he whips around to see James looking at you and the man with a light laugh. “That’s a plot twist we didn’t see coming, huh?”

Ryan decides to ditch step three and just let you leave with your big, scary boyfriend and a bag of shawarma.

“That guy in there has a crush on you,” Bradley says as you walk to his car.

“What?” You look up at him in alarmed confusion. “Which guy? No one has a crush on me.”

Bradley grunts. “Tell that to the dude who was watching us like a little perv.”

“Bradley!”

Bradley ignores your scolding, letting go of your hand when you reach the car. “Put the food in the back... please.”

He unlocks the Bronco and you put the bag of food on the backseat, before hopping into the passenger side. You get situated in the seat and look at Bradley expectantly.

“I feel like buckling your own seat belt is something you could do yourself.” Regardless, Bradley is grabbing the belt from where it’s hanging inside the car.

“But I like the way you do it.”

“Yeah? And how do I do it?” The belt clicks into place and Bradley checks that it’s smooth against your chest and lap, before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You grin. “Like that.”

Bradley closes your door, making his way around the back of the car and into the driver’s side. It isn’t until many minutes later, after you’ve sung along to a few songs on the radio, that you remember your original conversation.

“Do you really think someone at the shelter has a crush on me?” You turn to Bradley nervously. “What do I do?”

Bradley lets out a breath of air through his nose. “Toots, you were jumping all over me like a fuckin’ monkey. I’m thinking he got the message.”

He’d also, most certainly, picked up three bags of kibble at once for a reason, but Bradley wasn’t going to tell you that part.

#bradley bradshaw blurb #bradley bradshaw x toots #monsters in the dark #under the hard deck #buggy's got a pen

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writers-vlogx · 1 year

Text

When the waves call you home

OKAY SO I KNOW THIS BLOG IS DEDICATED TO SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT BUT I HAD TO PUT IN MY PIECE OF EFFORT AS A WRITER

Okay I swear I'm not complaining but I do not find enough fluff when I look for namor content so Ill do it myself. And please send me more ideas on what to wrote for this amazing man!!

I think his love for you runs very deep, he feels very strongly and is very protective over the people he cares about as we see when he talks about his people.

I think that if you somehow made him feel something for someone that lives on the surface he would be very cautious at first, he would not want you to take advantage of his feelings or risk people finding his cities. It would take a long time to gain his trust because its not just him he has to consider but his people as well, he wants to protect them at all costs. He does not wish to lose anyone else.

But if you eventually did gain his trust, I think the next thing that would happen is that he would become worried, not for himself or his people but for you.

He knew you were mortal the anxiety of knowing how fragile you were terrified him, spending a lot of time trying to find the plant of his people to make it so that you could live with him, haha the second problem was that, he could not stay with you at all times, that made him anxious. He wanted to be by your side, be able to go look out for you, keep you safe, make it so that you did not wish for anything at all, but that was not possible as long as you lived on the surface.

Many nights he had asked you “love come live with me underwater” and the answer was always the same “I can’t” “My whole life is here” “how could I leave my family” “I'm not ready” It always resulted in the same answer, and each time the same dread washed over him hearing you say no. How could he make you understand that he needed to protect you, to make you see he would not be able to live if anything happened to you.

He cared so much for you that he gave you time, and understanding, he was patient but it was eating away at him he needed you. So when days became to long, at night he would come see you hold you as tight as possible as if by doing so you would never leave, but morning always came and he always gripped extra hard when he saw the sun start to rise, even then every time you would assure him you would be here when the moon rose and you would again be in his arms.

Maybe it was something in the air that day, maybe it was the way his eyes stared into your soul, trying to memories every feature on your face, because as his hand moved a strand of hair from your face, and the weight of your body’s made the bed sink under you, ever so softly he asked “Love come live with me, please” and maybe it was the fact that his eyes never left your face, or the way he frowned slightly trying to decipher you, trying to figure out what you were thinking, maybe it was the fact that you yourself felt that there had always been something missing that you stared at him for a long time.

You tried to remember all the memories you had made here, trying to find any excuse to say no, to turn back, anything to justify why but you found you could not. You had never felt full or complete here, despite the great life you had there had always been something missing, with namor however you felt like you had found some of that missing part of you.

You put your hand on his cheek and caressed him softly admiring him, he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, you knew this day would come sooner or later. You knew you couldn't avoid it, and you knew you didn’t want to either.

Your voice barley audible and if he hadn’t paid attention he would have missed it completely, he heard those words he had waited so long to hear “Yes” His eyes opening ever so slowly and his arms stretching out and pulling you in for a hug, he placed his head on your shoulder “Thank you so much” A weight had been lifted off his shoulders as for one he no longer had to worry about the one he loved most being taken from him, in a way you had both found peace in each other, peace in moving away from the dangers of the surface world and moving into the waves that had called you home all those years ago.

#namor x reader #namor #namor fluff #wakanda forever #namore x you #fether serpent god #mcu namor #black panther #namor the sub mariner #namor the submariner x reader #namor x y/n #tenoch huerta #tenochtitlan #black panther 2 #namore x male reader

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sometimes-love-is-enough · 4 days

Text

Syzygy: Some Closing Thoughts

I'm writing this at 8pm on my backyard porch, under the wavering light of a distant full moon. Hello, moon! Please don't kidnap me. I just wanted to hang out with you for a while as I collect my final thoughts. It's a pretty cloudy night tonight, so it's not properly visible, which I suppose is the cloud cover shielding me from a terrible lunar fate. It gives a deliciously hazy atmosphere for the absolute essay I'm about to write.

Apparently, the Farmer's Almanac says that tonight's full moon is a 'Pink Moon', which sounds like it'd be a very pleasant viewing experience. I imagine pastel frangipanis spontaneously sprouting all over the moon's surface, covering every inch of its rocks and crags until the soft pink glow is visible from all the way down here on Earth. Unfortunately it's not named 'Pink Moon' because of that; there's some American environmental factors, etc.

I think it's kind of charming that there's a list of names for every possible full moon, as if the moon's putting on different masks or incarnations every time it tilts just enough that we can see its full face. I'm looking at a list of them now instead of writing these final notes like I probably should. The names are so delightful. Strawberry Moon. Sturgeon Moon. Apparently last month's full moon was Worm Moon. WORM MOON. I could go on. I won't. Let's talk about Syzygy instead.

Syzygy is... Man, where do I even start with this? Let's try the beginning. I started writing Syzygy in February of 2021, after ruminating on it for probably a few months before that, as I often do. That's three years ago, so my memories of the reasons why are a bit fuzzy, but I think I did it for two reasons: one, a desire to have a long-form meaty slowburn fic for a beloved rarepair in the tag so other people could enjoy it, and two, a fascination with the idea of fractured identity, what it means to be a Side without a Centre. The whole thing with the alternate-history steampunk swapped-around Earth came about naturally from that.

Except that's actually kind of a lie, because that's not the beginning, this began in 2020, when I wrote a pitch for a local station that was accepting radio play submissions (rejected, of course) featuring a hardboiled noir detective in a starlit city whose latest client was a tiny shiny girl asking him to solve her father's murder. And that's also a lie, because I think it really began when I tried to write an original novel in high school where the protagonist's name was Avery Allen, because I liked the way the name tripped off my lips.

My stories are always built on each other, especially stories I never get to write. They all recycle into each other in a weird blend of concepts and characters. 2021 was when I sat down and told myself I was going to write the Thomceit time loop fic, and I dove into it with aplomb. I can't recall the exact timeline of events, but at some point I underwent some truly gnarly health problems that left me unable to use my hands for extended periods of time, and so the fic that was meant to be for a Big Bang ended up... Just sitting in a folder for a while. But me and my beta managed to pull it the fuck together, and after adding some extra bits and pieces (the cutaways were a LAST MINUTE ADDITION even though I think they're some of my favorite bits in the whole thing) I started putting it all up.

Okay, there we go, that's enough of an abridged history of this thing. Let's just say: I never expected as many people to like it as it turned out, I thought that it would be a niche little fic for a rarepair, and I was honestly pretty content with that. So it was delightful to see so many people getting so into it, I have enjoyed the FUCK out of all of your comments and theories and predictions. It's been delightful when people predicted a plot point correctly, and honestly even more delightful when they predicted incorrectly. I've had such a blast.

As for the writing... Suffice to say I have many notebooks full of notes and thoughts, more than one spreadsheet to keep track of time loops and lore, and a semi-complete list of all of Virgil's tarot cards, which one day I'll probably polish and share properly, because I think the concept is neat. But that's kind of how it always goes with my writing.

Naming every inspiration for this would take forever and I'd still miss a few, but I'll just throw out a key few ones, because I gotta:

17776: What Will Football Look Like In The Future, because when I first read it I got the wrong idea and thought that Juice (Jupiter Icy Moons Explorer) was short for Betelgeuse (the star), and that sparked a whole thing about living stars in my brain. Also, just the general way that the worldbuilding and absurdity is handled in that world, it scratches my brain just right.

Welcome To Night Vale. I don't think I need to explain this one.

Madeleine L'Engle's writing, particularly A Wind In The Door, particularly-particularly the bit of it where Proginoskes explains why, precisely, he has to remember and Name every star in the universe. Fucking beautiful book.

A particular Untamed/Mo Dao Zu Shi fic I read years ago and haven't been able to track down again, which also features two people stuck in a time loop who are initially unaware that they're in it together AND dying at the same time. I believe they also meet on a bus? The details are fuzzy. The worldbuilding and descriptions of that fic were so stunning to me, it had me unable to read anything for a solid few weeks, it is definitely a superior work to mine in every respect. If anyone finds it, let me know, I don't think I finished reading it and want to know how it ends.

An unpublished fic that I had the privilege to read while it was being written, that changed my brain chemistry re: the Sides unknowingly existing without Thomas. The Flowerwall Cafe originally hails from this one, too, graciously borrowed and greatly beloved.

Both Ghibli films in general AND Dianna Wynne Jones books in general, and obviously the intersection between the two, Howl's Moving Castle, which is fascinating in how both mediums handle the setting.

The Doctor Who audio drama Scherzo, which is a wild ride, and there's a major plot point revolving around the two main characters holding hands and fusing gruesomely into each other - and another involving an in-story fairy tale.

There was no huge inspiration for the clockwork city and weird steampunk carriages, apart from (perhaps) Fallen London. Certainly, the idea of a background organization that wants to kill the sun, who also happens to be a sentient being, is cribbed from the Liberation of Night.

Syzygy also happens to be packed full of many obscure references to... like... personal projects of mine, some published and some unpublished, as well as a lot of my friends and co-writers, and some really REALLY niche stuff that only I will ever properly understand. I buried a lot of myself into this story, is what I'm saying. Juice hails from a completely different project (a TTRPG with my friends, of which she is a beloved and cherished NPC), the in-universe author for Avery Allen (and Mallory Wynn too) are named for a fictional TV author I created when the writing discord was making a nonexistent fandom, Logan's dumpling recipe is my favorite recipe of all time.

I have an apartment ghost, too. I talk to it regularly.

Final thank-yous, because I want to post this very very soon, I've been typing for too long and the mosquitoes are starting to get to me. Thank you to:

Everyone on the TSS writing server who listened to me complain while I was writing it the first time round, and has subsequently listened to me complain while editing it these past two years. So many people in there are responsible for little bits and pieces - phrasings, words, nicknames, jokes - and I couldn't begin to name everyone who helped.

Saphira and the rest of the people who are currently working on making a full-cast audio drama out of this fic (???) (???!!!!??) (!!!!). It is SO baffling to me that it's happening, I'm in complete disbelief whenever we talk about it or I see the script or I get asked logistics questions, I'm terrified and thrilled to see how it turns out, what the fuck! The very existence of that project has ended up influencing a few things about this fic's endgame, too.

Everyone who's commented extensively, commented entire academic analyses, commented numbered lists, commented laconically, left a single emoji in the comments, left kudos, bookmarked it, sent me asks on Tumblr, given me thumbs-ups on Discord, or even just silently read the fic without interacting at all. Your witness brings my words to existence. Love you love you love you.

And Len, who lives in my brain and my body and my heart and my throat, and who is honestly singlehandedly responsible for dragging this fic out of the depths of Google Docs and into the arms of AO3. They've already said I don't need to thank them, but come on, I totally do. Len is the best beta, and puts up with all sorts of deranged nonsense from me, because I have an unhinged writing process where I don't think about anything before I put it down on the page, and I use way too many connecting-dashes and not enough semicolons. Kisses kisses kisses. Thanks for doing this with me, and I can't wait to do it again.

Myself. I managed to write this and I managed to finish it. That makes me a pretty cool person, all things considered. I'm glad I did this.

What next? I've got to rest. Well, I need to get some things done... and then rest. I've been juggling a hellish amount of projects for a while now, and now Syzygy's finally cleared from my plate, I'm going to try to let the others get cleared too so I can take some time and be less stressed. The Locked Tomb AU will be ongoing, as I get through final edits of chapters, so keep an eye out for that - if you're interested in a fic that's rather less starry and shiny, but very much Thomceit and death themes, check it out - and then....... Well, whatever comes next, whenever I have the energy to do it. I adore writing in this fandom. I'll be back with something weird soon enough.

Ad astra, baby! It's been a blast.

- Min (2024)

#Syzygy #author's note

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idontlikeem · 1 month

Text

i'd like to talk about grieving, a little bit. as in the past, discussions of death and cancer below the cut, don't read if this will hurt you, etc....i'm having a bad day and i just need to stream of consciousness for a little bit. sorry.

so my mom died. if you've read my personal posts before or whatever, you probably figured that out. it happened on thursday february 15th around noon. luckily we had a bit of notice that it was coming, so i was able to drive down the saturday prior and spend time with her—three full days where she was pretty much still herself, and part of a fourth.

it's been a really hard month. like, obviously. but i think a part of me still wasn't quite ready for it. i don't know how.

my mom was first diagnosed with breast cancer in fall 2011. she had a mastectomy and went through chemo, and that was hard and scary, but it was i think technically considered stage one—a tumor that was definitely growing fast, but it hadn't spread out of the area, like not to her lymph nodes or anything, and with the treatment she went almost ten years totally symptom-free. right at the start of the pandemic, the cancer came back, but this time it was already stage four, and it was in her abdomen and uterus and intestines.

there was a time when we weren't sure she'd live more than a year. endometrial and other reproductive cancers aren't 'sexy' like breast cancer is, they're not widely studied and there aren't a lot of treatment options. when she had breast cancer i hated 'save the boobies' campaigns (and please never donate to susan komen), but now that my family has lived with another type of cancer that doesn't have tits as a draw, i hate them even more.

my mom made it four years, pretty much, since the first diagnosis. she did chemo, and radiation, and went on medication trials, and put her body through hell to try and fight it. she lived longer than i think any of us thought she would.

the problem with that is how long i've been existing in a state of grief.

i've had years to prepare for this. i've thought about it literally thousands of times—how i'd feel, how i'd tell people, what i'd do after. i pictured it, because i was trying to plan. i was trying to get myself ready.

turns out pre-grieving isn't real. turns out you can't get this pain out of the way by experiencing it in advance. much to my chagrin. i'm not sure there was a way to avoid it, though. so here i am, with four years of grief behind me, and not one second of it has made what's going on now any easier.

some days i forget. every time i'm on twitter or instagram, there are posts i want to send her, and then i don't know what to do with myself. for all that my relationship with her had its hard times, she was my mom, she was my best friend. i love her more than anything and i don't know what to do with myself now that she's gone.

i've been sort of just surviving for the last four weeks. my apartment is a mess, i'm barely leaving, i haven't been good at responding to people. so today i thought i'd at least clean up a little. i'd gone to target a day or two before i drove down to my parents', and i figured i would start with those bags, because they were just sitting there.

i'd forgotten that i bought valentine's day cards for my whole family that i wanted to send. one for each of my brothers, one for my dad, one for my mom. i never sent them, obviously, i didn't even bring them with me. i burst into tears when i pulled them out of the bag, and i've been crying pretty much all day since then. i'm never going to pick out a card for my mom ever again.

i also have a notes app file sitting on my phone. she wrote each of us letters, and my dad sent them out to us, but i haven't been able to open mine yet. it's the last new thing she'll ever say to me. how could i possibly be ready for that? how do i know when the right time to read that will be?

one thing my mom wanted was to die at home. she didn't want it to be in a hospital, and i get it. she spent a month in the hospital after christmas, and god knows how much time cumulatively over the last four years. the fact that she was able to push to get home is something i don't understand, because she was so sick—but she did it somehow. she was able to die in her bed.

and i was with her. like. i wasn't just at home, i was with her.

something they don't tell you about having someone die is you have to start arranging stuff before it actually happens. when we woke up on the 15th, we knew it was only a matter of time—her eyes weren't all the way open and her breath was labored, and she couldn't talk, although at first she still tried to say stuff. we sat there with her and kept her company and talked to her. hospice came by around 11 or 11:30, i don't even remember, and said that based on whatever measurements or readings they take (pupils? breathing? i don't know), it would be between 4-8 hours, and he recommended that my dad call the funeral home. because you have to do that first.

so my youngest brother was driving down from where he lives, my middle brother was in his room, my dad was in his room on the phone, and i stayed with her, because....well, of course, right? and i was just kind of talking, and crying, but trying not to...i don't know, beg her to stay? ask for more time? the nurse said she could still hear, they're pretty sure that hearing and understanding what's being said is the last thing to go, and i didn't want her to feel bad or guilty, or to hurt herself in an effort to stay longer even though there's nothing more that i've ever wanted in my life.

so i told her, you know, we'll be okay. it's going to be unbearably sad, and it's going to suck, but all the stuff we did as a family with her—we'll still do it. and we'll be okay. and there's nothing more important to us than her not hurting anymore, not being miserable and stuck and just...not herself. all that matters to us right now is her, and she didn't have to worry about us, because we'd be okay.

and she took in a breath. there was a pause. she took in another one. and she stopped. that was it.

i didn't even realize at first, not right the second it happened. the hospice booklet had talked about a 'death rattle', about how it happens almost all the time, but that it's more distressing for the people with the person dying than them, that they're not in pain. how the fuck would they know that, i'm not sure i believe it, but...it's what i was expecting. that didn't happen, though. she just stopped breathing.

the amount of guilt i felt for my dad being out of the room...i don't know if that will ever leave me. he said it was ok, because he was having to deal with stuff, and he'd spent a lot of time with her and it was fine, but jesus. how do i not feel like i stole that from him?

i've felt like a shell ever since. i'm back where i live, and i'm getting up and going to work and taking care of my dog and trying to stay connected to life, but...i don't know.

how is it that she's gone? how is this possible? how am i supposed to go the rest of my life without her?

i had four years to get ready for this, and i wasn't. i don't think there's any way i really could have been, but still. it doesn't seem fair that it was so hard for so long, and for NOTHING. nothing is easier now.

i'm sick of feeling sad, and hurt. i feel like i should be over it or something? i don't know, maybe just less actively affected? it's been a month. people's parents die all the time, right?

what am i supposed to do?

#personal

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simplyholl · 5 months

Text

Although I was a constant lurker for months, today marks my one year as a Loki writer. It has been so fun whoring out with all of you. There have been too many laughs to count. By some miracle, I’ve reached a little over 1,000 followers. I’m shook that so many of you are interested in partaking in my wildest fantasies. But I am so thankful for all of you. If you have read, liked, commented, or reblogged anything - thank you from the bottom of my heart! I love reading every wild thing you have to say about these scenes I’ve created.

Sometimes I will just sit there and read your comments over and over in complete shock that my words would elicit such responses. I am so thankful for our little corner of the internet where we can unashamedly be ourselves. We all have different backgrounds, cultures, and lives but we can all agree we just want our favorite god to dick us down.

I’ve made lifelong friends from doing this, and I would’ve never met them otherwise.

@lokisgoodgirl Thank you for giving me the kick in the cooch I needed to start posting my writing. I would have none of this, if it wasn’t for you. Your words of encouragement mean everything to me. Thank you for being my tech expert for the first little bit. I would never give anyone else my login info. You’ve helped me get through some of the toughest times of my life and I am forever grateful for your friendship. I love listening to your voice notes. Your “Good morning” always puts a smile on my face. I hope we can meet in person one day, although I can’t promise that I would keep my hands to myself. I love you endlessly.

@wheredafandomat I only met you at the end of January, but it feels like I have known you my whole life. Is it possible for two people to share the same brain? Because I’m sure that we do. You can make a 2 hour phone call feel like 5 minutes. I’m lucky to have you in my life. My frequent collaborator and birthday twin - I love you so much.

I couldn’t think of a celebration that I wanted to do, but I wanted to share some of my favorite comments over the course of my time on here.

#burdened with a glorious manhood

-@coldnique

The threat to use his vibranium hand to do the choking was just the cherry on top of my death day cake. This is a filthy masterpiece

- @joyful-enchantress

Well spank me sideways, this went from O-deranged in 2.5 seconds AND I'M NOT MAD ABOUT IT

- @thedistractedagglomeration

Ohhhhhh he talks her out of her hero panties and in to his heart

- @cakesandtom

"sit on his face darling" l'm not gonna survive another paragraph I swear to god.this is too much in the best way

- @lokisgoodgirl

The thought of being an avenger and having Loki fuck you senseless is stupid hot, but add into it him talking about making you carry his secret sex baby and still be an avenger is 🔥🔥🔥

- @itsybitchylittlewitchy

Take that you little shit! I am so glad he saw them together and still mounted at that!

- @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed

I mean it's a fitting description after all the devil is tempting and so is Lokis dick

- @fictive-sl0th

You had me at President Loki and biting!

- @marygoddessofmischief

should have really realized that it was you, my dear, who wrote this!

- @smolvenger

I don't need legs, l'll just drag myself around.

- @goblingirlsarah

Spelling his....spelling his name.. ☠️☠️

- @lokisgoodgirl

absolute genius. i read the part about considering staying with him even if just for the sex and i was like "YOU GO Y/N GO GET THAT MULTIVERSAL ASGARDIAN DICK"

- @muddyorbsblr

Yeah Narfi you little bitch. Take that!

- @wheredafandomat

This was so naughty!!! When the vacuum fell and he was like, "fuck it" then continues to pound you harder!!! 🥵🥵🥵

- @mochie85

I neeeed a tall Loki to be my coworker for the job I don't have so he can fuck me in the storage closet

- @wheredafandomat

The best part of waking up is Bucky & Loki in your cup!! WAY better than Folgers.

- @km-ffluv

IT WAS PHENOMENAL. would have tears in my eyes with how proud I am if I wasn't so horny

- @lokisgoodgirl

Just for fun,

If anyone wants to give it a re-read, here’s the first fic I posted.

Snowed In

And this is actually the first thing I wrote

Across the Multiverse

It’s been a great year. I can’t wait to share more horny, unhinged, wild fantasies with you in the next one.

All my love,

-Holly 💚🖤

#loki #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki fandom

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misc-obeyme · 10 months

Text

I didn't realize Lesson 19 was happening today, but as soon as I figured it out you can be sure all my other plans for the evening got tossed out the window.

I apologize in advance for the length of this post. I had more to say than I thought I did. And I'd already wrote the whole thing, so I was like I don't wanna break it up into multiple posts now!

Spoilers below the cut as always.

I'm going to lose my whole mind. There is no way that this isn't the "visiting and kissing every brother" scenario that happens before the end of a season. And yet I still have SO MANY QUESTIONS.

I am very much under the impression that we are not going to be leaving the past by the end of season one. Which is ANNOYING. I keep thinking about the brothers in our present timeline. I might have to write some angty story about it to make myself feel better.

But also, what're they gonna do? Send MC back to the human world? I mean, every other season has ended that way...??? Maybe it's different because we're in ~Nightbringer~ now. We'll see I guess!

Anyway, this lesson certainly wasn't bad and there were a lot of interesting things happening to these past versions of our bros.

AUGH THE BROTHERLY LOVE IN THIS LESSON THOUGH.

Okay, so this is not really the same as how they were in the OG, but I think this makes sense considering how much time has supposedly passed between the two timelines. I mean, think about how siblings are when nothing's wrong and they're all just getting on each other's nerves most of the time. Then think about how those same siblings might band together when things get dicey. That seems to be the family dynamic we have going on here.

Leviathan, my sweet boy, I really loved how he reassured all his little bros that everything was going to be okay. He was so confident and firm in his decision in this lesson, too.

And then the way they were all surprised about it was so cute, too.

I just loved this whole moment.

Okay. And obviously we have to talk about Mammon.

This whole part really showcases Mammon and Lucifer's relationship, I think. To me, it seems like Lucifer is very much going to lock himself away, not talk to anybody about his feelings, and possibly prepare to do something drastic because he thinks it's what's best for his brothers without actually asking them. But Mammon knows this. He knows exactly what's going on with Lucifer. He doesn't have to talk to him to know. And he also knows what's going to help Lucifer. Not just the pudding, but sending MC with it, too.

Honestly, Lucifer does not give Mammon enough credit in general. Mammon is always doing stuff like this. And then throughout the rest of the lesson, he's being the big brother, too. It's like Mammon thinks that Lucifer is the one who carries all the weight on his own, but really Mammon is the one keeping that family together, I swear.

The thing about it is, none of them will do anything without Lucifer being on board. And Mammon knows that, too. So he's like okay I'm gonna send this human with some pudding to talk to Lucifer and because those are two things that Lucifer really likes, he will probably get it together enough to make the decision we all want him to.

And I think Levi understands this, too, to a lesser extent. He's over here trying to make the younger bros feel better while Mammon is trying to make Lucifer feel better.

Okay now we have to talk about Satan.

First they hit us with the Satan telling everybody to leave him behind and go back if they want to.

And then this part where they all call him out on saying he's not their brother.

And then when he finally admits he wants to be their bro and Asmo hits him with the I'm so proud of you... when I tell you I was tearing up...

I want to point out how Asmodeus and Beelzebub are the two who chimed in with these lines after Satan says he wants to be their brother. Because I think these two are the most open with their feelings in general. While Belphie will be quick to call someone out if he's annoyed with them, both Asmo and Beel are quick to praise someone. It isn't just that they're happy he finally said it, they understand that he needs their reassurance in that moment and they have no problem giving it.

And all of this was so good! It was such an excellent culmination of all the stuff that had been leading up to this point regarding Satan and his relationship with his brothers. This is exactly the kind of understanding and closure I want to have for all the other weird junk that we have no answers for yet! I should be grateful we at least got this, I suppose!

And then Lucifer makes it all crazy with an explanation I thought we'd never get about what it was like when Satan was "born."

I think it's pretty clear that they're saying exactly what some people were pointing out in the vampire event. Because Satan got vampiritis even though it only affected fallen angels. And I was definitely like that doesn't make sense! But some people said well considering he came from Lucifer, Satan probably has angel in him. And you guys were right! Because I'm pretty sure that's what Lucifer is saying here.

He may have never lived as himself in the Celestial Realm, but Satan has that same angelic power in him.

Lucifer's relationship with him is really quite interesting. I know he says he thinks of him as his brother, but... the way he talks about him... to me, it still sounds like he thinks of Satan more as his son. But I think it's easier for the game if he's one of the seven brothers lol. I personally headcanon it as Lucifer just doesn't want Satan to feel any more out of place than he already does. Also, that's kind of the familial relationship that all the former angels have in mind when it comes to each other, since they have a collective Father figure and I know Lucifer doesn't want to be seen as anything close to that entity.

And then Lucifer talks about how his decisions have caused the others to suffer. And I think this comes back to what I was saying when I was talking about Mammon - the rest won't do anything unless Lucifer makes the decision. Mammon knows this and Lucifer does, too. He talks about how he almost made a huge mistake because he was thinking about sending the others back to the Celestial Realm.

And I have two things to say about this:

One: Lucifer shouldn't have made any decision without talking to his brothers first. He needs to stop shouldering all the responsibility himself.

Two: If he really thought they would have wanted that, he really hasn't been paying attention. Sure, they've had some conflicting feelings about being in the Devildom. But they've all said they made their own choice to follow Lucifer. Does he really think they would want to leave him now? And everybody says Mammon is the idiot.

But then he surprised me by admitting that he was ashamed for almost doing that. And he apologized to them all. I couldn't believe it!

And one of my favorite parts of the whole thing:

PFFFF if that isn't the Satan we know and love!

Anyway, all in all, this lesson gave us some things that I have been wanting. Very specifically, Lucifer told us what he remembered about falling and Satan's "birth." And I can't believe we got Lucifer finally being open and talking to his bros at the end. It makes me annoyed because why hasn't present timeline Lucifer done anything like that, huh?? But yeah, it's because a billion years have passed or whatever and he's older and crankier in the present lol.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me nightbringer lesson 19 #obey me nightbringer spoilers #obey me nightbringer lesson 19 spoilers #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #misc talks about characters #misc rambles

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justafairytailofinnocence · 13 days

Text

Modern Thranduil x anxious reader

Caged birds with broken wings

Chapter 1:

A Dance with tardiness

Synopsis: An antisocial, anxious writer in her early 20s attends a ballet class under the teachings of a mysterious, reserved, austere dance instructor. They form an unlikely within their solace and past.

Warnings: mentions of blood

Chapter 2

A/n: This fanfic doesn't follow along the lines of the hobbit but rather a loosely spin-off au that only uses some characters. I do not own the right to them as they are Tolkien's characters and I respect his creation. (even if the characters might be ooc). Feel free to comment, reblog and like. Let me know if you'd like a chapter 2.

I tended to daydream often, more so when I listened to the music. The tune and tone of the song that played one after the other sent me to the realms I immersed; typically, anyone would daydream into another realm far better than their own: a princess, pirate, elf, fae—anything. My imagination is my realm of comfort, a sealed bubble that I can freely roam however I wish. Unfortunately, within fantasy, we must face reality. Within my reality, I’m not much of an importance, at least not one to have a whole written memoir about. I’m more of one of those faces you’d pass by in the street or grocery store, not giving any second thought to. Though I’d prefer it that way, I’m not much of a talker but rather a writer; I’m more fluent in my words than my speaking. Every attempt I’ve made, I’ve stumbled or become still; my chest would rise heavily and lower deeply. I always asked how people can do it, how they can speak—talk—communicate like it’s a piece of cake. I’d rather shroud myself in my isolation than speak to another living being.

At my desk, in my somewhat clean apartment, I was planning my next latest story in a saga of 3 books. So far, I’ve managed to get in contact with a publishing company via email who were willing to get behind the idea of a feature-length young-adult romance novel, a romance novel about a pirate king and a fae queen. The first chapter was still relatively underdeveloped, yet I’m willing to spend an entire day finishing it. I had only five months to publish the entire chapters. I’ve been a fantasy fan ever since I was a child. To me, fantasy is what the word impossible turned into possible. For ten years, I’ve been writing, and never once has it stripped me of what I truly adore.

Whilst my fingers pressed against the keys on my keyboard, I received a text message on my phone from the side of my desk surrounded by papers. It was from my mom, who was wondering about my well-being. As always, I respond with the usual ‘everything’s going well—I’m pumping out new chapters for my new novel, ‘A Puncture in Time’, you know—the one with pirates and fantasy, new chapters soon to come ;)’. Even though she’s smart enough to see through my little façade, she writes back, ‘Hey listen, I know it’s hard right now, but I can assure you, things will get better; it just takes practice; I know you’ll meet someone you’ll find it easy to talk to’. I sighed heavily; within her words, I have faith, yet doubt. Should I choose to believe her, bite the bullet and try to speak up or wallow in a lie that can send her mind at ease? Before I wrote back, she sent a post with a link. I furrowed my brows as curiosity swelled my thoughts, my finger tapped the link. It was an ad. An ad for ballet classes. I thought it odd why she would send me something like this: I’m no dancer; I’m certainly no ballerina.

I replied with a question mark ‘?’.

A message bubble popped up: ‘…’ I awaited her reply.

As she was still typing, I took the liberty of glancing through the ad quickly. The tab loaded with a cursive font in bold ‘Les danseuses se réjouissent’. Scrolling past the stock images of ballet dancers, I came across a small section of different levels offered: beginner, Intermediate, and advanced. My mind raced with doubt; I had no experience in ballet, at least not since I was a young child. I wondered to myself, ‘Do I really want to take this? After all, I’m not exactly one for groups’. However, my mind was put at ease when my eyes came across an option for ‘one-on-one private lessons’. At least, I wouldn’t be with people who were far more experienced—let alone a group; the thought of many eyes staring at me—would have my heart sink. As I clicked the option, I was astounded; there were no reviews, pictures, or even a description of the instructor. I was sceptical. Surely, if you were to teach a class, you’d have at least a brief introduction of yourself. Even as an author, I have a concise introduction in my publications. I lightly sighed, weighing my options; on the one hand, it’ll please my mom, get me out of the apartment, and keep me fit; on the other hand, despite being private, I’m meeting someone I don’t know. Who knows what this person’s intention is, even if it’s for a class.

Finally, I heard a ‘ding’ as she replied, ‘Please try, at least for me; it’ll be good for your health, and you once mentioned you wanted to be a ballerina. I know the world isn’t always what we want it to be, but I know you can make it shine; I’ve seen it in your novels; give this a chance, give them a chance, to show them how you can shine, because I know you’ll be the brightest star there :).’

My eyes softened as I read every word; I couldn’t deny she had a way of getting through to me. She was always a caring woman, along with my dad. They were the only two people I could speak to without pressure or the weight in my chest.

I pressed back onto the tab with the private lessons. I clicked to see the booking dates—there’s an option to book for tomorrow, and the price is only $45 per lesson. For the price, it wasn’t too bad; yet still expensive. I filled in the details required to send the booking through, yet my finger hovered as I was about to press ‘confirm’. My mind came to a tussle of thoughts and hesitations; this would be the first time, in a long time, that I would speak face-to-face with an actual living being. However, I recalled Mom's words, ‘Because I know you’ll be the brightest star there’.

Breathing in—I pushed it, I pressed confirm.

I did it. I’m going to attend a ballet class. My head slowly lowers onto my desk, surrounded by papers. My hair dangled over my forehead. The adrenaline that reached the height of my mentality came crashing down. It’s like going on a rollercoaster you didn’t ask for, coming from the highest point of the rail down to the pit below. I start to feel light-headed. I want to sleep. I want to stay here. Perhaps I’ve made a mistake. What if this doesn’t work out?

I rose slowly from my desk chair, picked up my phone, and texted, ‘I’ve booked lessons for tomorrow…I hope you're right about this.’

I watched as once more, awaiting her response, ‘…’

‘Oh, I’m so happy, you’ll fit right in, I know it :)’ she texted.

I didn’t respond. She’s pleased, at least.

I decided to call it a night; I’ve had enough pressure for one day. I logged off, cleaned the papers on my desk, pushed them into a neat-ish pile and headed to the bathroom to shower. As I opened the door, I went inside to set down my pyjamas by the medium-small bathtub’s acrylic side rim. My bathroom isn’t big exactly, but neither is it small. It’s moderate for what it was: a bathtub, shower, toilet, sink, and a medium-sized mirror in the same room. It’s not precisely palace material, but it helps soothe my thoughts. I held my hand out as I turned on the shower, feeling the trickling water against my skin. The temperature quickly changed from cold to warm in just five seconds. Once I was satisfied, I stripped bare, sliding my long-sleeved green shirt off and sliding my darker tracksuit pants. I tossed my unmentionables inside the bathtub. I stepped inside the shower, allowing the warm water to run freely down my skin. I shut the shower enough to have a slit entrance still. I grabbed the soap, rubbing it over my skin, arms, legs, and body. I splashed water on my face as the water rinsed the suds away. I hovered my hands in my eyesight, glancing closer at my fingers. I could see the redness and patches from where I’d picked my skin; it’s a habit I developed since childhood. The habit would annoy Mom, often whispering or saying straight, “Stop picking”, even touching my hand to remind me. Unfortunately, this habit hasn’t subsided; I sometimes even look at my skin with little care, picking the cuticles or rough patches.

Once I finished scrubbing my body with soap, I turned off the water and opened the shower door to step onto the bathmat. I grabbed a towel from the single towel rack located beside the shower. I dried my body, running the towel over my skin. As I wrapped the towel around my body, I glanced at my face in the mirror above the sink. They say eyes are the most expressive in emotion. My narrowed, pinkish lips thinned.

I snapped out of my gaze, continuing to slip on my long blue pants decorated in owl prints, then, the next, a long-sleeve top with the basic purple on them topped with a giant owl embroidered in the front area. Owls have always resonated with me, whether it's their symbolism or captivating beauty. I placed the towel on the side of the bathtub’s rim. I picked up my previous clothes and took it into my bedroom. My bedroom was also medium sized, having a queen-sized bed and an oaken cupboard with a mirrored wardrobe. My room was decorated with tiny figurines I’d collect overtime, albeit from movies I’ve fancied or books. I placed the clothes in my hamper basket behind my door. My body relaxed when my eyes lingered toward my bed, the messy, deep blue sheets draped to the left side. I dismissed the thought of tucking them in for the time being, only plonking myself onto the mattress and wrapping myself within the single cotton sheets and doona drifting off.

Dreaming is the easy part, letting what visions came to my mind run wild. Sometimes, it’s suitable for inspiration, but other times, it's nightmares. The imagination is still enchanting, although, this time, it was peculiar. I was in a birdcage decorated with gold; the entrance was bolted shut; my hands gripped the golden rods holding the cage together. I tried to scream but to no avail. I tried to shake the cage, yet I was too small to provoke movement. My body lowered, feeling the coldness of the metal plate below. I had nothing but rosy ribbon pointe shoes. I suddenly felt myself, in no control, rise as though my limbs were attached to strings. I started to dance, my arms and legs stretching to fit the perfect movements. Eventually, I stopped mid-movement, standing on one leg while extending the other behind. I couldn’t move; I was frozen in place. I could do nothing but shut my eyes.

Suddenly, I woke up; my eyes fluttered open from the confusion I had just endured. Rising from the bed, I pondered for a few seconds. ‘What on earth did I dream about?’. My hands pressed against my face, trying to comprehend my dream and reality. I pulled the sheets off me and got up for the morning. A typical morning for me results in the usual routine: dressing, brushing my teeth and hair, and then looking forward to what the day offers me. Until I remembered that I had booked that class. I typically picked out green tracksuit pants with a white singlet, hoping that would suffice. I picked up my purse and headed out the door to my car. I entered inside, placing my purse in the front seat as I turned on the white car. I noticed outside that it started to snow. Snow is beautiful, especially the little snowflakes that fall into your hand and dissolve upon touch.

As the car started, I prepared to drive to wherever it was that awaited me. The location was further from where I lived; it must’ve been at least twenty-eight minutes. The drive wasn’t particularly bothersome for me; when you live in New York, you get used to the traffic.

As I drove, the snowflakes emerged in more significant numbers. Eventually, I found parking just next to the side of a café. I wasn’t aware if it was for the staff or guests. However, it seemed empty with only a few cars, so—if I get called out on it, I’ll move my car. No one seemed to notice, so I assumed I was okay. I grabbed my black parker from the back and zipped it up. Exiting the car, I stopped to admire the snow falling for a few seconds. It was January 4th, so the snow season was still here. My hands shoved in my pockets, beginning to wander toward where I needed to be. According to the ad, it was building ‘52’; it was vague, I know, but it was the details given. I trudged through the snow, seeing building after building, until I came across something with the number ‘52’, where I needed to be. My hand gripped the gold-looking handle attached to the glass door. As I entered, I came upon a staircase; I took one step after the other. I quickly glanced at the ad to see what floor it was on, yet to no avail. Was it the ‘4th floor? Oh god, oh god, please don’t resort to me asking someone. My fingers started to twitch; I raised one of my fingertips to my lips, feeling the rough patches. My thumb started scraping off the first layer, and small blood trickles formed. I ran my fingers over my lips again as I trailed up the stairs. I could feel my chest becoming heavier, my mind swell with thoughts of self-doubt. Suddenly, the anxiety soon started to subside as my eyes saw the sight of a door. My fingers hesitantly wrapped around the door handle; I took one breath in, trying to be brave. I pushed it open—only for my worst nightmare to come to life.

My breathing became heavier, my heart sank, my eyelids widened, and I could feel myself hyperventilating. There was a group of ballerinas staring directly at me. There must’ve been at least four? Five? Looking my way! Their ages varied, going into their late 20s.

The one brunette asked in French “es-tu perdu, cherches quelqu’un”.

I couldn’t concentrate; my mind dwelled with clouded thoughts of judgment. I pressed my finger against my lip, trying to feel the rough patches.

Another asked in English, “My friend asked if you’re searching for someone”.

Quickly, my eyes diverted to the ground, avoiding their gaze. “I-I-, pr-viate, less-on”. I stumbled over my words.

“Lessons? Private lessons?” the girl spoke once more.

I nodded, avoiding eye contact.

As I quickly glanced, a middle-aged woman in her mid-forties stepped closer; I assumed she was the dance teacher. “Are you referring to the private dance lessons advertised? the one taught by Mr. Oropherion?”.

I paused for a moment, trying to gather my words. Mr Oropherion? Is he the teacher I’m with?

“I-Is. This. Right. Floor.” I tried to sound out the right words, but it was impossible. Perhaps my conscience was right; perhaps this was a terrible idea.

The middle-aged woman, confused, pointed toward the direction I needed to go. “you’ll need to head up one more level, then head to your right” Her voice was calm with a hint of soprano.

Still avoiding eye contact, I left, not even saying thank you, focusing on wanting to escape. I closed the door in front and let out a heavy breath. My head lowered to touch the tip of my hands. I wanted to melt in that moment; I wanted nothing more than to return home. However, I reminded myself that I was doing this for Mom. I breathed in once more, looking up at the door; my hands quickly released, and I began to walk quickly, edging further up the stairs. My mind came crashing down, feeling the dreariness wash over me. Feeling tired, I finally, at last, came across the door I needed to be. It was blank, the painted white withering away around the edges. My hand reached the doorknob, feeling the roundness, turning it slightly. I could feel the adrenaline kick in. I was hesitant, but my nerves started to build.

I started to whisper to myself, “Just a general hello, that’s all it takes—

You're doing this for Mom—

Give them a chance to show them how I can shine; give them a chance to see who I am because I’ll be the brightest star there”.

I breathed in, closing my eyes and opening the door. As I tried to force my eyes open, I was confused. There was no one here. It was an empty space surrounded by mirrors with bar beams attached to them. My eyes scanned the room, yet no one was there. I suppose I should be relieved, maybe the teacher had caught a sickness and decided to ditch the whole class. I wandered further inside; I might as well take a quick peek. I unzipped my black parker with a furry hood, tossed it on the coat hanger and took off my shoes, leaving my white socks on. I stood in the middle of the dance room, embracing the quiet ambience. I looked in the mirrors, reflecting my figure. Was this even what ballerinas wear? Who even is Mr. Oropherion? If he doesn’t show up in the next 15 minutes, I’m heading off and not returning.

Perhaps Aelwynn, the fae queen in my novel, would’ve also been able to dance freely and eloquently in movement. I still wonder what would entrance the pirate king Sarek Salazar. I never pictured him to be devilishly handsome, though. I suppose Aelwynn would be a beauty, but there must be more to it—beauty can only go so far in their bond; what would their obstacles or hardships be? Perhaps the fae queen is somewhat intertwined with difference, the opposite of a fairytale. Aelwynn is fair, kind, beautiful and strong; she meets all the criteria for something otherworldly, yet what if Sarek is her opposite, a beast? No—What if he was average, a gross-looking thing? Pirates are anyway; what if he wasn’t powerful, just an average man with greed—and the dynamic changes, challenging Sarek to choose between the love of his life or treasure?

Or he would choose—

Suddenly, I heard a male voice emit behind me: “You best have a thorough explanation, girl. Do not even think about squandering my precious time.”

My breathing became heavier as I realized someone was speaking to me. I did not turn around; I was afraid to. Instead, I avoided eye contact, too paralysed to move. My head stooped low, and my hands stood to the side. He spoke again, “Clearly, you are here for a reason, are you not? I’ll admit your intrusion is rather fatuous.”

I didn’t glance up; I couldn’t look; I needed time to gather the words to explain. What should I say? Hey, sir, some ballerinas told me to come here, and I fear speaking to people.

“I see you have a mouth; that means you must have a tongue. Go on, speak.” His voice was deep and tranquil, composed yet icy.

I took a deep breath in, slowly turning around. As my legs moved, I slowly gathered the courage to look into the man’s eyes, even if I muttered a ‘hello’. It would be enough. As my head glanced up to meet his, I noticed his appearance.

He—was like—something out of a fairytale. His face was lean and chiselled; his eyes were like ice; his blueish-greyish irises complemented his cold gaze. His hair tressed down like water reaching his chest, light like snow. Whilst his skin was pale in comparison, a fair tone in colour. His attire seemed far more affluent than mine, donning a black trench coat with white underneath. His trousers complimented the darkness of his coat, and his black loafers were polished. I glanced at his right finger, an oval-shaped ring with a diamond glass stone crafted in sterling silver.

“Did you hear me not the first-time girl?” his tone turned stern.

My mouth moved, finally finding the words to speak. “H-hello, I’m Y/n”.

“y/n?” he muttered.

My eyes glanced downward once more as I slowly nodded.

“So, you have a voice after all, pray, tell. Why are you lingering in my domain?” he said shortly.

I muttered “private lessons”, though my voice sounded like a whisper.

“Ah, so you’ve seen the ad; I suppose you haven’t wasted our time after all, although you are five minutes late; I expect punctuality, to be exactly on time at the hour.” His voice sounded stern once more.

Well gee, it’s not like it’s my first time here, and gotten lost. My eyes still avoided his; I couldn’t look up, so I nodded.

He didn't react when I avoided his gaze, dismissing it. However, he commented on something else: “Your posture is lamentable. Stand up straighter like so.” The tip of his finger lightly touched my chin, lifting it to meet his gaze. I didn’t turn away precisely, yet I still flinched. My breathing slowed down as I once more met his gaze. His eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned.

“You stand there like a bird, wounded by the natures of evil, ignorant of the world’s knowledge, caged and sheltered from the shadows that lurk within the realm. Tell me, little bird, care to spread your wings?” I glanced at myself in the mirror, standing straighter. I could feel the flush in my cheeks, but I didn’t say anything, only breathing slowly.

His finger pulled away, and he turned his back to me, walking away.

“I expect to see you here tomorrow at exactly the seventh hour of the night”.

“Do not make me regret my decision, or you shall return to the cage from where you came, little bird”, He muttered.

With that, he walked out of the room, distancing himself further and further away. At that moment, I stood in disbelief for a few seconds, trying to understand what had happened. However, once my thoughts were collected, I gathered my things and scurried out of there, wanting nothing more than to enter my car. Once I exited the building, I was hit with the coldness in temperature as it touched my face.

I opened the car door, tossing my things in the back, turning the engine on. I looked back, trying to see the building to the left. As I drove, my thoughts were plagued with astonishment. I didn’t look away; I maintained eye contact for longer than three seconds, and—I managed to speak my name without stumbling over my words. My emotions displayed were as if I’d seen a ghost. Yet—his face—his appearance—it reminded me of snow; I always loved snow; even when I was a child, it was the happiest of my memories. I recall when my parents took me to the park; I was fascinated by the sight of the winter wonderland, my face lighting up with delight and laughing with joy. I always find that snow rekindles the fond memories I have.

Perhaps Mom was right after all; this might be the start of something I’ve never been able to do. Talk.

#thranduil au #thranduil x you #thranduil #thranduil oropherion #the hobbit au #the hobbit #thranduil fanfic #lord of the rings #thranduil ballet au #thranduil headcanon #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x reader #thranduil oropherion x reader

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originalcollectionartistry · 1 year

Text

Part 3: No More Waiting

Here is the requested part 3 to Guess I Waited too long. Honestly I just wrote that fic to process my own emotions about episode 13 and did not think I'd get any notice on those fics. I'm so sorry for the long wait! I finally had some reprieve to edit and post but I promise I have been working on it since part 2.

Also that season finale was NOT OKAY!! I cried for a full day so I definitely had to finish this to give myself and others comfort and lots of therapy. After this, I will write quite a few fix it fics if anyone requests them cause that was not on.

I've never really published anything I've written but I would hope this 3 part series gave my fellow Tech lovers a little therapy.

My stories are 18+. Minors begone.

I honestly don't know the word count so enjoy the numberless paragraphs of sex.

Warnings: Sex. Lots of sex. PiV sex, unprotected, NSFW, explicit PiV, crude language, aftercare, fingering (fem receiving), oral (both receiving), just filth. Pure filth

Also Cid is not a backstabbing asshole in this cause she shouldn't have done that to the boys or Omega

Part 1 Part 2

Enjoy you horny bastards!

____________________________________________________________

You had returned to Pabu over 40 rotations ago and you and Tech had been... less than affectionate. Honestly, you didn't mind. Tech was still quite new to the whole relationship thing and you certainly did not want to push him. You loved the man and would be as patient as possible. But Maker were you horny! Why did he have to be so damned attractive? Everything he did just made you think about how he'd feel against you, inside you. He really did not realise how much you needed him.

Phee had returned shortly after you and the boys, successfully clearing yours and their name. Cid was callous and harsh but she could be understanding when she wanted to be. Besides, the Batch were her best assets. She wasn't going to risk severing ties. Apparently the whole reason she'd left them stranded was the Empire had finally made its way to Ord Mantell. She needed time and a way to keep the boys out of the Empire's sight. Easiest way was keeping them away. Course she had to act all threatening; she couldn't risk anyone think she'd gone soft.

"So... it's safe to come back?" Omega asked.

"Only if ya want. If you're happy on where you are, I'll just send stuff your way. It's how I keep Phee invested." Cid shrugged. Maybe she had changed after all. Or Omega crawled her way into Cid's cold heart.

You looked over at Tech, meeting his eyes. You nodded your head over towards the Marauder, wanting to talk to him. He nodded back and followed you quietly to the ship. You were pacing, which confused him. You hadn't mentioned any upset or anger since the mission so to see you anxious worried him.

"Mesh'la? Is something wrong?"

You looked at your man, your handsome sexy man. "Nothing you can't fix my love... I miss you."

Tech cocked his head to the side. "I'm right here. Why would you miss me?"

You sighed and tapped your lips, a small signal to him that you wanted a kiss. "I miss feeling you darling. We've been busy lately. We haven't had any time together.... alone."

Tech smiled, understanding what you wanted. He approached you, hands finding their place on your hips. Touching his forehead to yours, it was a moment of pure love and intimacy. Neither of you could believe how lucky you were to be together and hoped nothing would ever come between you.

"Well cyare, how do you propose we rectify this? Surely the ship is not a place for such intimate affairs?"

You smiled, knowing he was genuinely curious as to how you'd find time. You weren't worried though; Tech was a man of curiosity. You knew he'd do whatever you wanted him to to make sure you were fully satisfied.

“No but that’s definitely something I’d like to do eventually. We shouldn’t rush it so how about we have dinner tomorrow and just see where the night takes us!”

Tech nodded, giving you a kiss. “Sounds good my darling. Now how about we get back before Wrecker comes looking?”

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Dinner was quiet but sweet. Plus the food was perfect; you and Tech had some sort of connection where you two working in tandem in the kitchen was second nature. This caused every new recipe to be perfect and well done!

Cuddling on the couch in your borrowed home, you felt more than content. You really couldn't be happier. After so much drama, it was nice to have a space your own and settle down. You weren't 100% sure what Tech's thoughts were but you knew him and his brothers had been talking about moving permanently to Pabu and honestly? After the shit you dealt with on Ord Mantell, settling down in a bungalow on an island paradise with the man you love was more than what you'd ever ask for.

Tech pressed his lips to your temple, allowing you to let out a small sigh of happiness. It wasn’t often you two had quiet moments like this. You were either helping around town or tech was working on the ship.

You turned your head upward, wanting a kiss, which Tech happily gave. It was clear you two were pent up however as the chaste kiss soon turned heated, tongues battling for dominance. You were quick to straddle your beau’s waist, slowly grinding down on his crotch. Tech let out a groan of lust at your ministrations, wanting more. He went to push his goggles up over his head but you stopped him.

“Keep them on,” you whispered in his ear. “I want you to see me clearly.” You ground down harder, making Tech cry out in pleasure. “Plus I like you with your goggles on.”

Tech nodded quickly. “Of course mesh’la! Whatever you’d like tonight, it’s yours!” His hand came to your chest, gently palming your sensitive breasts. He wasted no time in gently pulling at the buttons, wanting to see more.

It was a beautiful thing, you thought. That you of all people could make the intelligent clone desperate and inarticulate. It made you swell with pride; giving you the confidence to slowly move off his waist and onto the floor. Unbuckling Tech's belt was a task and a half. You always knew it would be cause dear god that man had ALL the pockets strapped to his waist. Buckle after buckle, you eventually became frustrated enough where you sat back and started pouting.

Tech chuckled, leaning forwards, he took your chin in his hand. "Something wrong, cyare?"

You glared at him and then his pants. "You know damn well what's wrong! YOU HAVE TOO MANY POCKETS!!"

He laughed softly before taking over removing his bottoms. As he removed his jeans he laughed again. "My darling, you must work on your patience. Plus my pockets can hold many things... like remotes to certain toys?"

You gawked, never having considered that. Tech could and probably would make you writhe in constant pleasure while no one would be wise to the situation. The mere idea made you feel your undies become soaked. This was definitely something you’d have to discuss later. Who would’ve known that Tech would be kinky! You loved it and absolutely wanted to explore more scenarios with your love. But right now...

“Just help me undress you, smart-ass!”

Tech laughed before continuing to remove his clothing for you. He knew you had patience but the more desperate you became, the less patience you’d be. He pulled you back up onto his waist, bringing you in for another passionate kiss. Your frustration at his clothing disappearing into his soft lips.

You pulled away and knelt back onto the floor, pulling his cock out of its confines. Your mouth started to water, the tip glistening with pre cum. You gave an experimental lick from the base to the frenulum. You heard Tech suck in a breath, gaining courage to take all of him in your mouth. Eventually finding a rhythm, you bobbed your head, making sure to pay attention to his tip. Tech was gasping, the feeling of your warm mouth overwhelming him. His hands found purchase at the back of your head, gripping your hair at its roots. The slight pressure on your scalp caused you to release a low moan, sending vibrations down Tech’s cock.

“Kark cyare! You’re perfect! It's like your mouth was made for me!”

You smiled, giving him a little suck at his tip as a thank you. You felt him start to buck into your mouth and you knew he was getting close.

“Mesh’la, please! If you keep going like that I’m going to cum. I’d rather do that inside you!” he whimpered.

You pulled off with a pop, smiling gently up at him. “Of course my love. Anything you’d like.”

Now it was your turn to completely undress. Tech had already taken care of your top, leaving you in your bra and pants. You wanted to tease him so you slinked away from your love’s lap, standing before him. You started to sway your hips in a figure 8 motion while feeling yourself up and down. You smirked when you saw Tech lean back and palm himself, obviously liking what he was seeing. Reaching back, you unclipped your bra, letting it fall off your shoulders. You chuckled a little at Tech’s expression.

His mouth was pressed into a line, and he was looking up at you desperate for you to do something other than dance. He wanted, no NEEDED, you to touch him. He was stiff, trying not to melt into a puddle of submission to your will. While he loved when you took charge, he really wanted to be in control tonight.

You shimmied out of your pants, pulling your underwear with them. Straddling Tech’s waist again, you started suckling at his neck again, leaving as many marks as possible.

“Darling, as much as I love this, I think we need to move to the bedroom. I would hate for someone to catch us in a state of undress,” Tech panted. He stood, gripping your thighs to keep you where you were. You squealed at the sudden change of position, wrapping your legs tighter round his waist.

“I couldn’t agree more, my love.”

He gently place you on the bed, hovering over your body. His kisses made you breathless but you couldn't muster a care. His lips were too soft, too sweet. Oxygen was overrated anyway, you thought as his lips left yours to trail down your neck again. Leaving little hickies and bruises all over, Tech continued his mission lower, kissing over your breasts, your belly, until he reached his destination. Kissing up your thighs, teasing you, he decided to leave more spots, hickies only he would know about and would remind you who you belong to.

"Teeeccchh!" you whined, "Stop teasing!" You bucked your hips towards his face, wanting to feel his mouth on you.

He smirked, pushing his goggles up his nose. "And who am I to deny such a pretty thing?" One lick from your entrance to your clit had you crying out in pleasure and relief. Finally!

He ate you out like a man dying of thirst, suckling your little button like his life depended on it. You were certain you'd lose your voice before the main event at how much Tech had you crying out and moaning.

"Kriff! Kark Tech! How did you get so good at this?" you cried out.

He only answered in a moan against your clit, sending vibrations down your whole lower half. He may not have had much relationship experience but he did read up and research every single erogenous zone a woman of your species could have. Thankfully, humans were quite easy to research as male and females had similar erogenous zones. Tech paid special attention to your vulva and clit, stimulating it in every way possible.

Once he thought you were sufficiently lubricated, he started probing your entrance with one finger, before sinking inside. You screamed, not expecting it but welcoming the intrusion. His fingers were long and reached that perfect spongy spot just inside. Curling his fingers in a come hither, he added a second and eventually a third.

You felt so incredibly full, becoming more and more overstimulated with each pump of Tech's fingers. You were so close, that knot in the pit of your stomach becoming more and more tight. Tech could feel your clenching around his fingers, knowing you were close to your finish.

"Come on cyare. Cum for me. It's okay," he murmured against your clit.

It didn't take too long for you to reach that precipice. You fell over that edge, every muscle in your body freezing as you saw stars behind your eyes. It took you a moment to catch your breath, Tech gently kissing your thighs as you came down from your high.

"Karking hells... that was amazing love!" you moaned out.

Tech crawled back up your body, kissing every piece of skin he could reach. "Don't pass out on me yet cyar'ika. We're not done yet."

You smiled, pulling him in for a kiss. You could taste yourself on your tongue and it made you whimper against him. Tech pulled away and smiled softly as he lined himself with your dripping cunt. Just the feeling of his tip against you made you buck your hips, wanting more.

"You ready darling?"

"Tech, I swear if you don't fuck me, I'll find someone who will!"

Tech laughed, knowing you were all talk. You didn't make yourself suffer through hurt and jealousy just to walk away when he teased. Slowly entering your warm walls, it took every bit of Tech's willpower not to bottom out instantly. You felt so good! So warm, so tight and inviting.

You used your legs to pull Tech deeper, not caring about slow anymore. You needed more! Your movements caused Tech to lose balance and hilt himself inside, making him curse something you never thought you'd hear.

"FUCK darling!! You're going to be the death of me if you keep doing that."

You giggled, rolling your eyes like the brat you were. Tech started to move, slowly in and out, allowing you to become accustomed to his size. You closed your eyes, biting your lip in ecstacy. Thank the Maker for Jango Fett's DNA cause you knew every clone would be well endowed but Tech was genetically enhanced so you knew his intelligence came with other perks as well.

Tech started to move faster, his hips snapping against yours deliciously. His pelvic bone gently hit your clit with every thrust, it did not take very long for your orgasm to approach quickly again. Why did he have to be so good at this? He'd give you so much pleasure you'd be unable to walk. Tech was perfect in every way, shape and form.

Wanting to prolong, you used all your strength to flip Tech over so you'd be on top.

"Taking control are we, cyare?"

In response you ground down, loving the hiss of pleasure he drew. Grinding down gently, you teased him. Tech bucked up into you, letting you know it wasn't fair to tease.

"Darling please! You know I don't last long in this position! The angle in which I enter you is quite possibly the most pleasurable and if i continue at this pace I won't last and be able to give you the pleasure you deserve."

You smiled, loving it when he started to go on a tangent. Knowing this particular one was because of you was delicious to say the least. So, you tortured him a little longer. You continued to ride him, bracing yourself on his chest. Tech's hands flew to your hips, forcing you down even more onto his cock with each thrust. Your nails dug into his skin, leaving little crescent marks on his pecs. You could feel him start to stutter his hips and while you loved the feeling of it, you did not want the fun to end yet. This was the man you loved and you were going to give him whatever he wanted at this point. So you flipped back over, letting him be back on top.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible. You heart was bursting and you once again felt that little knot becoming tighter and tighter. This time, you did not want to tease. Tech thrusted harder and faster, feeling your cunt pulse and grip him like a vice. His hips stuttered a bit and you both knew neither would last much longer.

"Darling, where?"

You moaned loudly, loving the feelings you had. "Inside me my love! Fill me up with your cum!"

A few thrusts later, you felt warmth spreading through your lower half and felt Tech release inside you. You fell off your precipice, seeing the galaxy behind your eyelids. Muscles tensed and relaxed, riding your orgasm out.

You felt Tech collapse against you, nuzzling into your neck and leaving little kisses. You relaxed your legs from around his waist and he turned you both onto your sides, cuddling into you further.

"You feeling okay?" you rasped, running your fingers through his hair.

"Mmm" he moaned. Tech lifted his head and adjusted his goggles. "More than okay cyare. I'm spent."

You laughed a little at that, feeling the exact same. Tech got out of bed, leaving you a little shiver at the lack of his body heat, but promptly returned with two canteens and a wet cloth. Spreading your legs, he gently wiped away any cum that was left on your skin. He gently encouraged you to go pee because "urination helps with clearing out any disease or sperm that may be left" but you scoffed.

"I'll pee later! Just come cuddle me please? I need a nap after that."

Nodding, Tech crawled back in next to you, wrapping his arms around your form. Snuggling in, you inhaled a breath of his scent, loving the man. You felt your heart rates calm down and slow as you cuddled. You were essentially fucked out and loved Tech for knowing your body so well.

"You're thinking very loudly mesh'la."

You smiled and curled into his chest more. "I'm sorry love. Just thinking about how much I love you."

"I love you too my darling. Now try and get some sleep. I have set tomorrow aside for us and I plan to use it well."

You smiled, blushing hard. You didn't know what Tech had in mind but you were excited for it. A whole uninterrupted day with the man you love? A certain yes please.

You slipped Tech's goggles off his head and set them on the nightstand. No indents for this clone. As you looked over you felt a rush of emotion run through you.

No more waiting you thought. You both had waited long enough to be together. Blast the Empire, the rebellion, the crime lords and everything horrible in the galaxy. You had everything you needed right there next to you.

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

Hopefully it's what you all hoped for! As always criticism is always welcome as long as its kind and constructive. Thank you for all the love in the last month or so. If anyone wants anymore please feel free to reach out with requests!

Tag list:

@burningfieldof-clover

@lilyevans1

@eternalwaffle

#tbb spoilers #tbb tech #tbb tech x you #tbb tech x reader #tbb smut #tech x reader smut #tbb tech x reader smut #sexy time #ao3 fanfic #aot smut #fanfic #sw tbb #tech #tech x reader

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