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notchesandbullets · 3 years

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Saving Her (Ojiro Mashirao x Wolf!Reader)

Part 2 : Aizawa’s reluctant dad side kicks in when he sees you’re clearly distressed, fast friends with Midoriya, fluff with the girls of 1-A, Todoroki and Sato.

Word Count: 5.7k

Bowing your head in defeat thinking that there was nothing you could do to possibly change his mind, you started to shuffle towards him when you were stopped.

"Ojiro-san..." You whispered.

He refused to move his tail. He refused to let you go.

"Aizawa-sensei, please," He was desperate, worried out of his mind at what would happen if you were left alone.

If he wasn't there to protect you.

He gritted his teeth, holding back as best as he could. "Don't do this."

"Do you want her to be safe or do you want her to be with you?" Aizawa's eyes were serious. "Because those are two different things."

The boy fell silent beside you.

"Here, she's exposed. Her whereabouts have been leaked to your classmates and while I don't blame you for the incident that occurred, you have taken responsibility for her." The older man continued despite your head ducking down in shame. "This is what's best, not only for her, but for the rest of you."

He directed that last part over your shoulder and you glanced over to see all the boys from earlier as well as a couple more unfamiliar faces that obviously had been roused from their sleep due to all the noise.

Aizawa sighed, really not wanting to argue or go up against one of his most dedicated students this late at night. "You have to remember this dormitory was built to ease your parents' worries. They entrusted your safety to us and we are responsible for you."

The air suddenly got a lot more difficult to breath.

"I told you that you would have to earn my trust back." He said, rough but even voice cutting through the silence like a knife, alluding at something you didn't understand.

You didn't want this. You didn't want to make things hard on everyone or cause a fuss.

"I'll go."

Ojiro's expression of surprise gave way to pain. "Y/N..."

"They'll be safer if I leave, right?" You met Aizawa's blank stare bravely despite your knees knocking together. "I want to protect them, too."

Protests rose from the other students at your determination, the majority of them pleading for you to stay, much to your surprise. But their teacher wouldn't budge and slowly, they had no choice but to give up. As much as they wanted to get to know you better, it seemed like that would have to wait.

You looked up at Ojiro, sad to have to leave but knew it was the best thing to do for now. As you moved to take off and return his hoodie to him, he halted your movements.

"Keep it." He urged, a slight blush present on his cheeks. "I don't want you to get sick."

With a small smile, you thanked him quietly, promising to give it back when you were able to see him next. He returned your smile at the prospect of there being a next time before unwinding his tail from around you.

You followed Aizawa to where he was staying so that he could make a phone call from his office. You took a second to peer around the cluttered room curiously but dared not explore. Unlike Ojiro, he didn't seem like he would take kindly to you poking around his things.

Suppressing your instinctive curiosity, you gulped when he hung up the phone, approaching you with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"For now, you can't stay on the school grounds until we figure out some kind of legal guardianship." He relayed, being rather straightforward and clear cut with you. "I'll walk you to an inn for tonight."

"Ah..." You trailed off as he fixed his gaze on you, shuffling your feet awkwardly. "T-Thank you Aizawa-shi, but I-I can... take care of myself. I don't want anyone to get in any trouble and I know it will reflect badly on UA if you are caught harboring me, so..."

Letting out a heavy sigh, he walked past you as you rambled, opening the door. "Just hurry up."

You walked quickly, not wanting to fall behind as he strode on ahead of you, paying your entire speech no mind. You didn't know whether or not to be thankful or offended but greatly leaned towards the former. It was true that you had enough survival skills to look after yourself but life was much harder when there wasn't anyone in it.

It took about an half an hour by taxi but the night was nice and Aizawa instructed you to hide your ears and tail as well as not talk to anyone else.

You followed him to a quaint inn at the outskirts of UA's property, checking in at the deserted lobby, Aizawa paying for your room for the night. Unable to help it, you started to wander, curiosity taking over.

The walls were decorated with vintage wallpaper, curling slightly at the edges when one panel would fade into another. But while the air inside felt musty and the carpet was stained with faint shades of tea and coffee, the fresh flowers at the center of the lobby brought a smile to your face.

Once you were out of earshot but still within his field of vision, Aizawa turned to the owner.

"Make sure she gets whatever she asks for." He told him gruffly, handing him a bunch of yen to compensate for the trouble. "Food, blankets, whatever she needs."

"Y-Yes, of course, sir." The owner babbled, stunned by the sheer amount of money he had just handed to him.

You spun around, yelping frightfully when you face-planted into Aizawa's chest. He steadied you, sending you a glare that one could only decipher as a warning. Backing away quickly, you apologized profusely until he cut you off, telling you not to make so much noise.

It was late and he had a headache.

Chastised, you followed him up the creaky stairs, coming to a door with green paint peeling off of it.

Aizawa arched an eyebrow, then internally shrugged, using the key to open it. Inside, there wasn't much. A twin sized bed was crammed next to a lumpy couch he was assuming had a pull out cot, a table and a single chair in the corner along with a small bathroom.

He sighed again, wishing that he brought his sleeping bag. That would've been more comfortable than this.

Flicking on the light, he drew the curtains closed. Sparing a glance over his shoulder to make sure you were still alive since you hadn't talked since he entered, his eyes narrowed when he found you with your back pressed against the door, eyes widened in alarm.

Your knuckles were white from where you were clutching the doorknob, nearly breaking it in the process and the sound of it rattling is what drove him to finally break the silence.

Recognizing the patterns of your behavior, he turned around to face you, keeping his shoulders relaxed and maintaining eye contact with you. Trying to appear as non-threatening as he could possibly get, he forced his jaw to unclench.

You let out a shaky breath you didn't know you had been holding in when his expression softened. If you didn't know any better, it almost seemed like he was being kind.

"I don't know what you've been through but I'm not going to do anything to you, kid." Aizawa murmured and you were taken aback by how the edge to his voice disappeared when he was talking with you. "I also know that might be hard to believe coming from a stranger, but it's late and you need to sleep."

He had a feeling you would react like this and while initially he had planned on leaving and going back to the dormitory to get some shut eye before the sun came up, something compelled him to stay.

He wasn't sure it was because of your reaction but regardless, he wasn't leaving now.

This area wasn't well protected and if anyone saw you coming in and him leaving, they wouldn't hesitate to take you. He didn't know how well informed the Quirk Traffickers were but he wasn't going to take any chances.

Waving his hand towards the bed lined with fluffy pillows, you hesitated before timidly laying down as he suggested. Now, you realized what he was doing. With you here and him there, he had maximized the space between the two of you and didn't block your access to the door in case you needed to flee.

Your ears flicked nervously as you got under the covers, trusting him a little bit more. "What about you?"

He exhaled, eyes closing, swollen bags already present under them. "I won't move from here. I'd leave you alone, kid, but I'm not sure that's a good idea since those guys that are after you are pretty persistent."

Your eyebrows knitted together, contemplating if it was a good idea to ask him.

He had just started dozing off when your shy voice asked, "You're a hero, right?"

Humming nonchalantly, he hoped you would drop it there but you didn't.

"Is..." You played with your fingers, tail flicking back and forth. "Is there any way I can become one?"

That piqued his curiosity.

You stiffened when he cracked an eye open, piercing your soul.

"Why don't we talk about it more in the morning, kid?" He finally said.

Unable to conceal your eagerness, you beamed at him and he crossed his arms over his chest, which was rumbling with laughter. You shifted, getting comfortable and promptly fell asleep. For the first time in a while, you didn't stir once during the night.

He stared at you for a little while longer, gaze growing fond. For a kid to have gone through as much as you have, you sure appeared pure and untainted. Your energy was infectious.

A nightmare for the constantly exhausted underground hero.

Hmm... maybe this kid won't be so bad after all.

The next morning, you were awoken by the light of the sun for the first time in years only to be shocked when a steaming hot plate of sausages and fried rice with eggs were placed by your bedside.

"Aizawa-shi?" You yawned, rubbing your eyes sleepily.

"You don't have to be so formal, kid." He told you. "Aizawa-sensei is fine."

During the night, he had moved from the corner to keep an eye on the door. Sometime around 3 am, he had finally fallen asleep and when he woke up, there was an annoying crick in his neck.

Your nose scrunched up as you sat up, accepting the plate of food he offered you. "But you're not my sensei."

He shot you a look at your cheeky reply and instantly, you shut your mouth, stuffing your mouth only to cry out when you burned your tongue. He scolded you immediately and rushed to get you a glass of cold water.

You smiled sheepishly as he made you drink some before instructing you to blow on your hot food before shoveling it in your mouth like that. This time when you resumed your breakfast, the silence wasn't harsh or stifling like last night. It was lighter.

"I would be if you attended UA."

You dropped your chopsticks. "Huh?"

After more thought and a lot more details from him, you learned that when he had contacted Principal Nezu late last night for the third time. He had asked if it would be possible to enroll you in the general studies course until they could figure out a safe place for you.

Going to school would put you on a lot of lists due to the information the school had to provide for the government and it wasn't his initial plan since you wouldn't be able to hide in the blink of an eye with no paper trail, but he couldn't think of anything else after that fiasco that Ojiro had informed him of last night.

Plus, with you enrolled in their school with literally pro-heroes everywhere, you would be well protected simply within UA's walls. And if you ever went missing, he could already think of twenty students who would come to your aid.

You were silent at first, mulling it over. Your fluffy ears twitched every so often as you ruled out other possibilities until a wide smile spread from ear to ear.

You bowed at him, popping back up with your eyes shining, heart touched that these people you barely knew were going so far for someone like you.

"I would be honored, Aizawa-sensei."

You spent most of the weekend alone since he had other responsibilities that required his attention but he always came by at lunch to check on you and then again at night to keep watch while you slept. You argued that he didn't need to do all of that but strangely enough, he insisted and you conceded, unsure of how much you could push the issue since he was your senior.

Before you knew it, the weekend and Class 1-A's break was over. It had been four days since you ran into Ojiro and you couldn't lie. You missed him.

Badly.

Aiawa had classes to teach and you were looking forward to seeing Ojiro and Yaoyorozu and the other girls again.

For the past few days, he hadn't let you leave the motel room.

The innkeeper, who you learned his name was Jin, often came to keep you company when you requested some food. You felt bad for making him do so much work but he never seemed to mind it. In fact, he rather seemed happy to have someone to talk to.

You were supposed to leave at the same time as Aizawa the day classes resumed but were so taken with the invention of the bathtub on the way out that he had to leave before you. Heaven forbid he got fired because he was late in helping you figure out how a shower worked.

Which is why you were confused when he kept finding excuses to stay longer until he admitted to being uneasy leaving you to walk to UA alone. You teased him and he rolled his eyes. But in all seriousness, who was going to try their luck in broad daylight?

No one was going to snatch you in front of a bunch of people.

He had nothing to worry about.

After a very long and thorough lecture of safety he hammered into your head to keep the door locked at all times and to stay away from the windows, only to follow it up with all the emergency protocols you were to follow if you were being followed or attacked.

To be honest, you nodded your head through it to show that you were listening just to appease him.

He finally left an hour later and you were free to do what you wished without him quietly worrying away in the corner that you were going to hurt yourself.

It was becoming a known thing that despite your keen wolf senses, you were very clumsy.

Aizawa found it oddly amusing and horrifying at the same time.

Deciding a bath was in order, you filled up the tub with warm water, washing away all the grime and blood that had accumulated over time with a soft hum of contentment.

Once that was done, you got dressed and finally left, bidding the Jin, who was at the counter a warm farewell and thanking him for the many meals.

He waved goodbye to you, telling you he hoped you would come back and visit soon even if it wasn't to stay at the inn and you nodded eagerly, promising to visit him in the future.

You skipped down the pavement, making sure your ears were sufficiently hidden under the hood and tail tucked away thanks to the excessive length of the huge sweatshirt. You thanked the heavens above that you had been born with normal eyes.

The last thing you wanted was to have to wear sunglasses all the time.

Three hours later, you were standing out the gates of the school, completely smushed against the security gate and getting trampled on by the press in their chaos to try and find a way to break in.

Geez, their persistence was annoying.

You would've gone another way if you knew one. This was the only route in and out of the school as far as you were aware.

Squealing when you took a tumble as someone shoved you a little too hard, you winced as you tried to catch yourself from falling, only to scrape your knees when you landed on the rough cement.

Ouch... You grimaced, pulling down on your hood to ensure that it wouldn't slip off and expose your ears. That one hurt.

Puffing out your cheeks, you concluded you weren't going to get anywhere so long as they were here. You took your chances, taking off for Heights Alliance.

Just as you thought, the building was locked but you sniffed the air, eyes lighting up as you spotted the same boy from last week. You had caught him talking to Ojiro before and he had taken the liberty of introducing the two of you. He was sitting on the front steps with a somewhat distant look in his eyes and a small notebook in his hands.

"Midoriya-san!!"

He turned at the sound of your voice, visibly lighting up when he saw you.

"Y/N-chan!!" He greeted enthusiastically, then dropped his hand in concern at your disheveled appearance and bloodied knees, running out to meet you. "What happened?!"

"Ah," You winced, flashing him a canine smile full of guilt as if it was your fault you got hurt. "I got pushed around by those people crowding the front."

Pulling a key from his pocket, the boy laughed along with you before unlocking the front door. "Aizawa-sensei tells us not to talk to them, but I'm pretty sure Kacchan has threatened them before."

You tilted your head, puzzled. "Kacchan?"

That name didn't ring a bell.

He enthusiastically explained the rivalry of his childhood friend as he navigated you through the common area. You sympathized with his story, listening attentively when he mentioned how desperately he wanted to be friends with him and admired him.

Ah, so Kacchan was the explosive pomeranian.

You smiled when he told you that recently things were starting to change between them and hugged him happily when he mentioned that maybe they would finally get to be friends one day.

"How are you so nice to him after he tormented you like that?" You asked, genuinely curious and in awe at how his bullying didn't harden his heart.

Midoriya shuffled towards the kitchen. "Kacchan acts mean but he really isn't. He's really strong so I think he just doesn't want to look weak."

His thoughts rang through your head and you fell silent when he didn't elaborate.

Actions speak louder than words, huh?

Sitting down on one of the couches, you followed him with your eyes as he rummaged through something under the sink. "What are you doing? And aren't you supposed to be in class?"

He straightened up with a small huff, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "Ah, well, they're training today and Aizawa-sensei says I'm not allowed to participate until I learn how to fight without injuring myself."

You tapped a finger to your chin as he came over with a duffle bag in his hand, sitting a respectable distance away from you. "But if you don't train, then how will you get there?"

Midoriya just smiled easily, eyes turning into crescents. "He doesn't really mean that but today he actually wanted me to make sure you got here okay."

You jolted at that.

"He what?!"

"Yeah," His brow furrowed but then smoothed over once he found what he was looking for. "I know it probably seems like Aizawa-sensei doesn't care that much but he actually does, and a lot, for us."

He told you about the USJ incident and the lengths he had gone to protect them when the League attacked.

You were speechless. Sure, this was not that new to you since you had experienced his rugged, begrudging version of kindness over the past couple of days but to have someone go out of their way to make sure you were safe and for them to actually agree to it was a whole other thing.

To hear that you weren't the only one who experienced that side of him made your heart feel warm.

Aww... he's such a softie.

"Ojiro-kun wanted to do it but Sensei said he needed to work with Ectoplasm on his tail movements." Midoriya explained, not noticing the pink that dusted your cheeks as he mentioned his name. "Here."

Blinking, you stared at him for a beat before you realized he was holding something out to you. "Oh!!"

You took the pair of athletic sweatpants with a questioning glance. "What are these for?"

He blushed, stammering. He didn't think he would have to explain it. "W-Well, y-you know, Yaoyorozu-san always k-keeps an emergency bag for these kinds of things and I-I don't think she would mind."

You giggled and his nerves faded a little in wake of your bright laughter. He gave you some band-aids and ointment to apply on your scrapes after you cleaned it.

"That's really thoughtful, thank you." You said.

He scratched the back of his neck shyly, matching your smile before packing away the rest of the things while you went to go change.

Fortunately for you, the slight injury wasn't severe. There was only a slight discoloration from where you had impacted the pavement surrounding the patches where a couple layers of skin had come off.

As soon as you finished taking care of it and put on the pants he had given you over your usual shorts, you exited the bathroom only to find Midoriya in the same place you had left him.

"So, class?" You asked, now that he had fulfilled his mission from Aizawa.

He smiled sheepishly, holding up his phone. "Ah, about that..."

Apparently, the police were held up by traffic at the moment and couldn't deal with the press that were still disrupting the students and staff. One had been foolish enough to try and cross the sensor without a pass, causing the UA barrier to activate. No one could get in or out for the time being.

Since they just built the dorms recently, the teachers were working to extend the barrier around the new buildings but it hasn't been finished yet. Instead, Cementoss created a high wall to keep outsiders out while the finishing touches would be put in place.

So while you couldn't go to school, you also couldn't go anywhere else.

Midoriya sighed, looking awfully forlorn. "I'm sorry, Y/N-san. It looks like we'll be here for a while."

"That's okay!!" You cheered, plopping down next to him, not wanting to see him so sad. "This will give us some time to talk, right? What's your story?"

He was surprised you were able to let go of it so quickly since you seemed so eager to see his classmates, then shook his head as confusion hit him like a truck. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what made you want to go here?" You asked, tucking up your knees and resting your chin on top of your knees. "Why do you want to be a hero?"

The look that crossed his face was one of unbridled joy and determination as he launched into his story after hearing that you wanted to know about him. That look in his eyes only grew brighter the more excited he got and his energy was contagious.

You couldn't help but cheer along at his moments of triumph as he relived the memories.

It connected into him showing you his notebook where he wrote down everything about all sorts of heroes once you asked him how he managed to keep track of everything he had told you in his brain.

The two of you were so engaged with your conversation, hunched over the coffee table as he tore through his notes that neither one of you heard the front door open.

But the loud chatter that flooded the common floor had you both springing to your feet in an instant.

"Welcome back, everyone!!" Midoriya greeted enthusiastically as his peers crashed the party. "Y/N-chan is here!!"

You smiled happily as Ashido launched herself at you, smothering you in a hug.

"Y/N-chan, you're back!!" She shouted excitedly. "Yayy!!!"

"I hope it's alright that I'm borrowing these." You tugged on one of your ears self-consciously as Yaoyorozu greeted you just as warmly. "There was a minor incident earlier."

The raven-haired girl waved you off automatically. "Of course it is!! That's what it's there for after all. You can keep those, I'll replace them later."

Jaw dropping open in surprise at how cool she was, you just managed to catch Uraraka as she flew at you at breaknecking speed. You returned her hug, smiling and bobbing your head along with her as she caught you up on all the latest things that had happened since you were gone after making sure you were okay.

It was almost weird. Almost like you fit right in.

You had only met them once last week and yet they were all so eager to befriend you. You thought you should've been more wary of them but they didn't seem to mean you any harm. Your gaze eagerly scanned for Ojiro, only for your tail to droop slightly when you didn't see him.

Hagakure giggled, picking up on your disappointment. "Aizawa-sensei asked him to stay behind for extra lessons today, but he'll be back later~"

If the invisible girl was visible, you were almost sure you would've seen her wink.

After that energetic yet warm welcome, you were ushered further inside as the boys took over the common space to hash out some friendly competition through a game of Smash.

Bakugou was banned, he broke one too many controllers in his fit of rage last time.

You stumbled through the hallways and jittered nervously as you and the girls took the elevator up to Yaoyorozu's room.

It was rather cramped, given that all her furniture was a lot bigger than her bedroom could handle but that just meant you all could sit in a circle on her enormous bed.

Hagakure eagerly asked if she could paint your nails to which you stammered out you weren't exactly sure what that meant.

An array of shocked gasps had the girls scrambling in a flurry to grab anything and everything needed for an evening of relaxation. Jirou even grabbed her guitar while Yaoyorozu left to go make some tea. Uraraka got to work on detangling your hair, in awe of your fluffy ears. The two of you were caught giggling hysterically as Asui came through the door with the elder girl balancing a tea tray in tow.

The next couple hours consisted of you getting to know Asui better, the frog girl preferring you call her by her first name, Tsuyu, and the girls spoiling you rotten, completely ignoring the fact that they had homework due tomorrow.

You were floored.

Your stomach started to growl and your cheeks pinked when Ashido shrieked at how adorable you were.

Jirou just barely stopped herself from smacking her friend, you were clearly hungry.

Yaoyorozu asked if you would like something to eat and you bowed your head, folding your hands in your lap.

"... If... If it's not too much to ask for." You said quietly.

Yaoyorozu cooed and Hagakure squealed, practically dragging you out of the room and back downstairs. Uraraka and Jirou stayed behind, needing to get to work on a project that wasn't due until the end of the year, but wanting to get started on it now so that they didn't have to do it later.

Midoriya was nowhere to be seen once you got downstairs, but the other boys hadn't moved since you had last seen them with a few exceptions.

Kirishima and Kaminari were still lounging in the same spot but had turned the TV off and had textbooks spread out before them.

Shoji, Aoyama and Iida were in the adjacent corner, all three of them looking up when Ashido bounded over to them.

Asui went over to where Tokoyami was studying, and the two of them started studying for Midnight's upcoming exam.

Sato was in the kitchen when Yaoyorozu came in, greeting her politely when she asked if he could help her make something for you to eat. He blushed a bit, saying how he didn't have much experience cooking since he was more proficient in sweets but that he could try.

"What's going on?"

You turned around at the unfamiliar voice as Yaoyorozu greeted him, with a slight twinge of relief in her tone.

"Todoroki-san!!" Yaoyorozu smiled. "Do you know how to make any meals? Y/N-chan is hungry."

The boy with two-toned hair debated the situation, brow knitting in concentration.

"I'm not sure." He said slowly.

He wasn't sure he'd be able to make you something satisfactory. He really only liked to eat one thing and therefore only knew how to make that well.

"Do you like soba?" He asked you.

You tilted your head, the word not ringing any bells. "What's that?"

Todoroki cracked a small smile at your curiosity, then pushed up his sleeves and immediately got to work alongside Sato while Yaoyorozu fetched what he needed.

You wanted to help them but seeing as how you had no idea what it was or what they were doing, you decided to leave them to it. Sitting on the same stool at the kitchen island as the first night when you came here, you interjected occasionally to grab something they seemed to be looking for in an attempt to not be entirely useless.

Sato was the one to reassure you that there wasn't much to do in preparing it and that your food would be done soon.

Five minutes later, Todoroki was pushing a bowl of hot soba towards you. Sesame and ginger wafted through the air from the broth and your nose scrunched up cutely, bright eyes going wide as you salivated.

"It smells really good!!" You cheered.

A subtle but relieved smile made its way onto his face at the compliment and he handed you a pair of chopsticks. You had been fed hot food so rarely you weren't used to cooling it down before you ate it. You dived in, recalling Aizawa's instructions from before and blowing on it first before tentatively taking a bite.

They were really tasty for something that looked so simple.

You beamed, soup dribbling down the side of your chin once you tasted it. "Thank you, Todoroki-san, Sato-san, Yaoyorozu-chan!!"

The boys bowed while the girl diligently wiped your chin with a napkin and patted your head, happy you liked it.

Content that your needs had been satisfied, Yaoyorozu asked if you wanted anything else before she got started on her homework for the night. You shook your head, thanking her once more before she left, Todoroki following not long after.

Finishing your soba, you watched curiously as Sato whisked something together in a large bowl, checking on the paper on the counter before pressing a couple of buttons on the oven.

"Whatcha doing?" You asked, nose twitching,

His gaze flickered up to yours and he smiled. "I'm making a chiffon cake. Would you like to try it once it's done?"

You beamed, practically drooling at the thought of it already. "Yes, please!!"

The aromatic scent of chocolate hazelnut made your mouth water as he pulled it out of the oven.

He made casual conversation with you as you stared longingly at the cake that had to set first before he cut it. You were surprised to find out that he liked baking more than cooking but nodded your head understandingly when he explained his quirk to you.

"That's so cool!!" You exclaimed, flapping your hands excitedly. "You convert all of that into power and it makes you stronger?!"

"Yes, but it doesn't last very long." Sato told you as he sliced the confection carefully. "And my brain doesn't work as well but it is quite handy to have in a difficult situation if I have some snacks on hand."

Your eyes lit up when he handed a generous slice to you on a plate rimmed with cherry blossoms. It almost looked too good to eat.

Almost.

You waited until he got back from distributing it to his peers who were still in various spots on the common floor before sharing it with him so you could eat it together. Of course he didn't remember to save any for him.

"Isn't this a lot of work?" You mumbled around a mouthful of cake as he explained how he'd been trying all sorts of new recipes. "Doesn't it get tiring?"

Sato nodded, cleaning up his work space and grabbing new bowls from the cabinets. "Yeah but it's worth it since it helps me with my quirk. Besides, I get to share it with everyone when they're done."

You giggled, pointing at him with your fork. "Yes, that's definitely a plus."

A hearty guffaw erupted from his lungs, causing several others to look over in your direction but your smile only grew wider.

You made someone laugh. Really laugh. It made warmth bloom in your chest and you kicked your feet happily, chomping on the last bit of cake with a blissed out look on your face that was equal parts from the confection and your new friend.

He might've looked intimidating but he was nothing but kind.

The front door cracked open and your head turned at the various greetings that came from around the shared space had your eyes widening.

You dropped your fork and it clattered on the countertop of the kitchen island.

"Ojiro-san!!"

Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel

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slytherinsnekxvii · 3 years

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let's talk about severus snape. he's one of the most controversial characters the internet has to offer, with several blogs, channels and pages dedicated specifically to hating him, despite him having one of the most—if not the most—intriguing character arcs the series has to offer. so, as a result of me coming across far too many of said blogs, channels or pages, here's an extremely detailed explanation of why i like him and think he's easily one of my favourite characters :)

1. he's not that bad of a teacher.

just so you know, i'm a teenage girl fresh out of high school. so, my experience with teachers? still keeps me up at night :)

my family is pretty strict about religion. you can guess what that means. anything that was magic-adjacent, especially something that, god forbid, had an entire school dedicated to witchcraft and wizardry was a hard no if i wanted to have any sort of freedom over the media i paid attention to, and any opportunity to go about my life without being monitored to make sure i wasn't suddenly possessed or something. thanks to this, i ended up secretly reading the philosopher's stone in my last year of primary school. i would've been 11 at the time, just about to turn 12, so a little bit older than harry and co. going on what i'd heard from those who had already read the series, i went in expecting to absolutely despise this man. i went in expecting to read a demon. i finished the book and came out thinking... that really wasn't that bad.

my mom found out, so i didn't get to read the rest of the series until i ended up on the executive committee for my school's book club and my friends were appalled that i'd only read the first book. at this point, i'm still expecting him to get worse and... he just doesn't. when i was in primary school, i had multiple teachers break wooden meter-long rulers across my classmates' backs. the first time it happened, i was in infant year 2 (about 6/7 years old). i had teachers who would insult us, based on anything from hygiene to behaviour to intelligence if you looked at them wrong. my sister (who was three years ahead of me) had a teacher who kept her in hours after school was over because the teacher had a written a note in her workbook upside down, and when my sister corrected her, the teacher made her rewrite it, turning the book each time the note was written so it would never be done the correct way.

in secondary school, i had teachers who would actively humiliate us in front of the class if we didn't do as well as they wanted. i had teachers who would throw markers and whiteboard erasers at us if we did something they didn't like during class. i had a teacher who looked for a friend of mine who was petrified of attention and then mercilessly picked on her until she went to the bathrooms to cry. these are the kinds of teachers that i was used to. so, when i read harry potter and read snape, who would have probably been one of the nicer teachers i met in my lifetime, i thought to myself, he's really not that bad. he's just... strict.

antis claim that he traumatised every kid that ever went through his class, that he straight up abused them and... no. he didn't. all of them are comfortable talking back, they talk during his class, no one trembles when he walks past, except for neville, who usually bore the brunt of snape's anger because he was consistently messing up in a potentially lethal class.

after school, i hated the thought of formal education, so now i'm working until i feel ready to do university. coincidentally, one of my jobs is teaching maths and english to kids writing the end of primary and secondary school exams. given the sheer amount of annoyance i feel sometimes, i actually respect him for not being more harsh with them, especially when they're all running off into danger or exploding cauldrons.

he really isn't that bad of a teacher, and we know this, since his classes' owl results are said to be consistently good.

plus, he was written in the 90's when all this was okay behaviour for teachers. hell, compared to some of the teachers in text, given that he goes out of his way to make sure the students are always protected, he's a lot better than most people give him credit for.

2. i relate to him.

come on, the man grew up to be a dramatic, queer-coded, petty bitch who wears all black all the time and likely has at least one mental disorder. i'm a petty, emo bisexual with (actually diagnosed, don't worry) depression and anxiety and I'm in a theatre group. what did you really expect from me?

on a serious note, both of the schools i went to were considered "prestigious". i got into my primary school because of a teacher's recommendation (she was a family friend). the second school i got into was because i scored ridiculously high on the placement test that would determine which school i went to. in primary school, i was the poor, really awkward, really smart kid who got left out of everything, and my best friend was the only kid who was worse off than me.

in secondary school, i was just as smart as everyone else... but i was still poorer, and still more awkward and still got left out of everything.

i got that isolated feeling, that feeling of not being good enough, that feeling where life always seems to have it out for you and that's even though i still got dealt a better hand than snape ever did. so, i get it. i'm never ever going to have it as bad as he did, but i acknowledge what he went through and i sympathise, because i have a chance, but it only ever got worse for him.

3. i genuinely enjoy his character.

this dude went through absolute hell for basically his entire life. the best years he had were probably when he was neck-deep in the group of people who hated witches and wizards like him, but somehow managed to treat him better than the good guys.

all of that, and he still manages to be one of the most entertaining motherfuckers in the whole series, with one of the most interesting character arcs ever. it's the witty lines, the sheer dynamic of his character, the change from the twitchy, hypervigilant kid from the slums to the adult that managed to spy on the Dark Lord himself and save the wizarding world in the process, while still being a hot mess of a person. it's the managing to get shit done while everybody hated him and everything was going to hell. it's the everything, and i haven't even talked about how badass he is.

come on, potions prodigy turned master, exemplary duellist (cough, cough, winning 4-on-1 vs McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout and Slughorn, and leaving a scratch on nobody, while managing to not take a single hit himself, cough, cough), spellcrafter, spy and one of the only wizards to ever figure out unaided flight. dark arts master, proficient at healing (dumbledore would've been dead a lot sooner, if it weren't for him, most likely). he's one of the most powerful wizards of his time. i've said that any universe where he's actually a bad guy—or just legitimately loyal to the death eaters—is a universe where voldemort wins and this is why. if he was motivated by literally anything other than lily, the wizarding world was more than likely fucked.

the point is, i just think he's neat.

4. spite.

every time i appreciate snape, a snater feels like someone is walking over their grave. every time i appreciate snape, a snater turns blue out of sheer rage. every time i appreciate snape, a snater loses their mind looking for their non-existent reading comprehension.

the spite in my veins is tempered only by the broth of instant ramen and ungodly amounts of sugar, and i'm going to use them all in my mission to cause antis pain when they refuse to acknowledge their lack of critical thinking and analysis skills.

so, yeah. why do i actually like snape?

tl;dr: he's not that bad. for a teacher written in the 90's and compared to teachers i've had within the decade, the guy's just strict. sure, he's a dick (who i personally think is hilarious), but he always makes sure the students are safe and he didn't leave any lasting effect on any of the students. he's really not that bad of a teacher. and hell, he's not even that bad of a person. i fully admit that he was an asshole and i entirely believe he was prone to self-destructive behaviour, but he still tried to atone for his mistakes and he did, is the thing, even though the odds were stacked more or less completely against him. i like him because he entertains me, and because i relate to him, as a teen who went through some shit and probably would have joined up with some bad people if it weren't for my friends and family, and as a teacher who really can't stand my students sometimes. i also like him because it irritates people who don't like him :)

also, istg if any of you respond to this with "bUt hE was ObseSsED with LiLY and just WAnTEd to FUCK hEr," i'm crawling into your bedroom window with the most unrealistic, mangled interpretations of your favourite characters and making sure they haunt you in your dreams. meet me in the fuckin' pit, babe. reread the series, actually think about it and come with receipts that aren't Voldemort, because i don't think you want to have the same opinion as the character who canonically doesn't understand love, now, do you, sweetheart? when you do that, then, and only then, will i consider entertaining your bullshit :)

that's about it from me, thanks for reading!

#severus snape #pro snape #why do people like snape?#i can't speak for anybody else but here's me #i probably left something out since i haven't written a good essay since my literature exam #but it's fine #let me like my chaotic bastard son in peace please #snape #snapedom

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piduai · 3 years

Text

on december 25th 1866 a family of average money and status enjoyers up in niigata welcome yet another little prince into the world. it could mean nothing (and there's also the fact that noda borrowed the name from a real person), but the name tokushirou has the kanji for "fourth" in it, which is usually reserved for the fourth son. it was common practice for nobles back then to have a bunch of children (real life hijikata had 9 siblings), so him having at least 3 older brothers and god knows how many sisters wouldn't be out of line.

little prince enjoyed a lavish life of wagashi and piano lessons where he learnt beethoven's sonata 23 and probably other foreign pieces, something reserved for the elite. his status perhaps let him dabble in foreign languages as well, giving him an education rich in cultural teachings, which will come in handy in his future job. not as lavish as it could have been, though - in 1868, when prince was tenderly aged just two, daddy tsurumi senior (if that's even his real name) has been severely cucked in an attempt to Keep Japan Great and as a result of not unstanning the shogunate in a timely manner has suffered losses. who knows what he did when the samurai class was abolished, maybe he went into trade <3 if he was as smart as his son, maybe even foreign trade. maybe even with russia. or at some point he just put on a flop act when the family ran out of funds.

regardless of daddy's finances, junior decided to keep the samurai spirit, his bushido somehow landing him in the army. it's unknown how long he lived in russia before meeting his wife, but he knew enough russian to score a hot slavic gf, so honestly, slay? in 1891, aged 25 and with a freaky blonde baby, he meets wilk, his spiritual half-slavic twin. unfortunate for the wife and the baby, for wilk was the last person that they met. sad!

now that tsurumi learnt the taste of human fingers, he decided to adopt his evilsona. either sucking on them fingies like a horse munching on carrots or pathetic human grief should be credited with him going from a cutesy, blob chubby cheeks look to a chad defined facial structure with chiseled cheekbones we don't know, but he complemented the facial reconstruction with lifeless eyes, sexy eyebags, and a pointy villain moustache and invested in hair gel to keep his outgrown locks slicked back. classy as hell. just two years later, aged 27, he's spotted being weird to children in a dojo in sweet home niigata. one of those children happened to be a young 12 years old usami, whose sheer amount of swagger tsurumi could only dream of, but who nevertheless felt himself swayed by thirst towards the recent widower. perhaps it was his kinda goth vibe? who knows. a year later usami (13) flips his lid and murders his bff, which tsurumi covers up and blames on a horse (kinda rude considering they're the same species), which ends up demoting him in the army. but it's okay because, thanks to usami, he learnt that he's sexy enough to manipulate other people's thirst for him in his own gain. very resourceful.

a year later, in 1894, he goes to his first war, where again he rediscovers psychology and comes to #conclusions. in 1895 he comes back to niigata, shares his thots on the human psyche with some random dude, and tells 14 years old usami that he's waiting for him in the army. this places usami as his first, most specialest candy boy.

in 1896, aged 30, he goes to meet his next toy on the death row. he tells him that he's been transferred to the 7th division in hokkaido, and that he'll be headed to russia as an intelligence officer, planning to take the dude along with him. he gets him off death row.

1897-1989 are a blind spot, we have no idea what he did in those years except that he returned to russia and at some point tried to #connect to that dude by hinting at his life story, except he was talking to someone way too dense to get his subtle hints. tragic, truly. before that at some point they went back too niigata, where tsurumi visited his mother's grave. there's no confirmation in the story, but we know that ogata might have also been accompanying him in russia; even if he wasn't, he did somehow meet ogata in this timeframe. maybe someday we'll find out how exactly.

in 1900, aged 34, he's back in japan, and down in kagoshima too, where he meets a 14 years old koito. most probably not incidental, safe to assume he went there with the exact goal of meeting this particular child. tsurumi is very hard-working.

in 1901, aged 35, he comes to tokyo accompanied by his 3 boy toys and threatens another girlboss with a gun in an attempt to keep yuusaku chaste. he meets kikuta, with whom he never really connected because he's into younger, more emotionally dependent and malleable people, but adds him to his collection nevertheless.

in 1902, tsurumi (36) goes to hakodate and orchestrates koito's (16) kidnapping, helped by ts*kishima, ogata and kikuta. usami didn't make the cut for some reason :( maybe he was left behind to guard tsurumi's copious stocks of hair gel at the military base.

judging by his ripped sleeves, he gets reunited with his spiritual twin mere days later. accompanied by usami and kikuta (it's what i call double shifting, or exploiting his employees. told yall he can't fucking stand kikuta), he is witness to the ainu massacre. very eventful week.

a year later koito pays him a visit in asahikawa and expresses his will to join his clique once he's done with school.

the russo-japanese war breaks out in 1904, where tsurumi gets hit by an arrow of fate in the face of a shrapnel while playing his mind games, and ends up losing a bit of his brain at the age of 38 (which only made him stronger and smarter #thegrindisreal). downside is that it ruined his brows and hairline.

in 1906 (age 40) he talks ogata into killing his dad (girlboss) because ogatapapa was his political enemy kind of, his facial hair was gross, and tsurumi's position in the 7th division needed to be strengthened. ogata obliges because they're besties.

the manga timeline starts a year later, in 1907, with tsurumi aged 41.

what comes next? who knows...

#those are a lot of words for 'i miss him' -__-#but it's still hysterical to me that he decided to be Like That only 2 years after his family got offed like... king behavior #tsurumi

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se0kie · 4 years

Text

heat of the moment- knj (m)

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: pwp, it’s pure smut i’m so sorry

established relationship, werewolf!joon, classic heat trope

warnings: *deep breath* let’s see if i can get it all?? dom!knj, sub!reader, heat sex, possessive sex, marking, biting, nipple play, pussy eating, fingering, squirting, choking, rough handling, dirty talk, degradation, use of bitch/whore/slut, multiple orgasms, impreg kink, breeding kink, creampie, cumplay, mentions of blood, namjoon has a big cock (duh)

tagging @ironicarmy fellow microtip pen enthusiast ^3^

not edited oop so you’re just gonna have to ignore the shitty mistakes

summary: you love your werewolf boyfriend, heightened senses and all. you’ve also begged him to let you help him through his agonising heats that torture him every month but the overprotective man he is, he will absolutely not let you near him when he’s so feral. but now he’s standing outside your door and asking to fuck a baby into you. are you ready for that wild ride?

a/n: i have no explanations for this behaviour. this is like 0 plot and all filth, I am so sorry. Horrific overuse of ellipses and uhhhhh,,,,, yeah it’s a product of my inner whore thirsting for Namjoon that’s about it.

You had been having a quiet evening to yourself, safe in the knowledge that your werewolf boyfriend was out on a hunt with his buds and all your work had been done and dusted. You were free to have a peaceful weekend all to yourself filled with self care and trashy movies.

Your dear boyfriend, Kim Namjoon, you had met him in college when he was a senior and you were just a bubbly new freshman.

You had instantly clicked and went forth to become the closest pair in all of Saint Wilson’s Arts University.

Enamoured by his height and intellect since the very first interaction, you had spent a whole year and a half crushing on him like a fourteen year old schoolgirl.

He had told you about his supernatural genes a week before asking you out on a date. And you had been together since.

Werewolves and vampires weren’t unknown to you, you were aware of their existence, but you had never thought that you would meet one.

You adjusted to Namjoon’s wolf characteristics better than you thought possible.

Sure he was warm like a furnace, and yeah he did have a terrible habit of spending hours scenting you so that anyone within 50 feet of you would know you’re taken.

Despite his somewhat difficult behaviour you loved him with every fibre of your being. He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky and he swore he would give you anything your heart desired.

Well... except one thing.

Ever since you had been told about the mating behaviour of werewolves and the monthly period of sexual craze that they were subjected to, you had wanted to help Joon out with his.

You had seen documentaries and read papers on the topic. You had learned everything there was to know about werewolf behaviour yet their strange heats boggled your mind more than anything else.

The sheer amount of pain and need that they felt every single month for a whole week, it saddened you to know that you could be helping your boyfriend out but he wouldn’t let you.

Instead choosing to tie himself up with heavy, blessed chains and have his six best friends keep watch.

You had given up after trying for a year straight, deciding that he would entrust you with helping him with his heats when he was comfortable with the idea.

Namjoon was a big man, standing tall at 6 feet with broad shoulders, heavy biceps and sculpted legs, he was scared of hurting you while giving in to his most primal instincts to claim you.

He had chosen you as his mate, his one love for his one life, and being the alpha’s son it was harder for him to control his needs.

So being near fragile, human you when all he could think of was sinking his fangs into your neck and breeding you was out of the question.

Coming back to your peaceful evening, you had just cuddled up with your fluffy blankets and a mug of hot cocoa when you heard the bell ring, the shrill noise resounding through your home.

You weren’t expecting anyone but knowing how impulsive your friends were you got up to open the door nonetheless.

Imagine your surprise when you see your giant of a boyfriend standing outside the threshold of your home, sweat dripping down his large body as he radiated heat.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Joon? What happened? Weren’t you out on a hunt, are you hurt?!”

Concern washed over you as you scanned his frame to look for any possible wounds.

Namjoon shook his head, movements tight and controlled, “No Y/N, I’m fine. I had to leave the hunt halfway.”

“What? Why?” you questioned.

“My heat arrived early.”

Oh.

“Ohhhh...” you thought to yourself as realisation sank into you.

“Joon, sweetie is it okay for you to be here? Did you need something before the isolation?” You couldn’t fathom why he would be here if his heat was upon him.

Unless...

No, he wouldn’t. You shouldn’t get your hopes up.

Suddenly you realised that he was still standing outside your shared apartment like a stranger, you stepped aside gesturing at him to come in.

As he stepped inside you closed the door. You noticed how his movements were stiff and rigid, an aura of tension clouding him.

“Is it alright for you to be back home, Joon?” you said softly, “Y’know, considering your uh... situation?”

You could hear his breathing in the silent room; slow, deep and controlled.

“Y/N, what if I told you that I wanted to mark you right now?” he said in a sudden rush.

You heard your sharp inhale, the question surprising you. But you knew the answer already, it was easy.

“I’d let you. Why?” You said without hesitation, carefully selecting your words you asked, “Do you want to?”

“I wasn’t expecting my heat to arrive this early, I had no idea why it happened in the middle of a hunt... But then I understood when I was standing outside the door.”

He said, “Y/N you’re ovulating.”

“Oh... wow, Joon are you trying to say what I think you’re saying?”

He looked at you as if he was calculating what to say next so as not to scare you away from him.

“Y/N, my wolf refuses anyone else, I know you know of how I used other bitches from the pack to keep myself sated during my previous hunts,” he said casually, the word bitch had very different connotations for humans and werewolves you had come to know.

You could feel your heart twinge in jealousy.

It was a sensitive topic for you, on one hand you really wanted Namjoon to be as comfortable and safe during his heats even if it meant sleeping with someone else; but it also really, really hurt to picture him in bed with the other gorgeous women of his pack.

You were insecure of your mundane genes, often comparing yourself with the strong and fierce she-wolves who had helped your boyfriend through his heats.

Namjoon spoke softly, “The past few months my wolf has been rejecting anyone who isn’t you. He wants to mate you, mark you as ours. Your ovulation must’ve sped up my heat. I can’t go on anymore without making you mine Y/N... for good.”

You were feeling strangely warm, you had obviously had sex with your boyfriend but you knew heat sex was in an entirely different league of its own.

All you could do now was nod your consent.

Namjoon stepped towards you, hands reaching out to capture your waist as his head lowered to your face.

His cheek grazing against yours, his lips brushed your earlobe as he mumbled into your ear, “Let me fuck a baby into you, Y/N. Let me breed you, please.”

You whined unconsciously at his words. Your belly warm and heat seeping through your panties. You whispered back, “Y-yes.”

With a swift change in demeanour his lips came crashing down to yours, large and calloused hands grabbing roughly at your hips as if afraid to let you go.

He growled into the kiss, his usually soft lips now tasting different because of the sheer dominance that radiated off of him.

His tongue swept against yours, making you moan wildly into his mouth, your own smaller hands grabbing onto his broad shoulders, fingers finding purchase in the thick, soft hair that curled gently at the nape of his neck.

His hand roamed south to the flesh of your ass as he cupped them with his hands and squeezed a cheek, tearing a gasp from your mouth at the surprising gesture.

Begrudgingly he pulled away from the kiss, releasing soft pants courtesy of your little makeout sesh, “Y/N I’ll ask you again, sweetheart. Are you absolutely sure you want me to mark you?”

You didn’t know if you had it in you to verbally say it, so you nodded shyly.

One of his hands came up to your chin as he gently angled your face upwards to gaze directly into his eyes.

“Use your words angel, a nod isn’t consent,” he rasped.

“I want you, Joon,” you whimpered as your eyes fell to the floor once again, unable to face your boyfriend as you openly declared your need for him.

“I want to be yours, only yours.”

You felt, rather than saw the smile creeping onto his expression.

He cupped the backs of your thighs as he hoisted you up to wrap your legs around his waist. His bulge pressing against your core. You whimpered at the soft brushes of his crotch against your clothed clit with each step he took towards your bedroom.

You giggled, the rush of hormones making you feel lightheaded as you whispered into his ear, “You grew really fast, Joonbug. Happy to see me?”

Namjoon chuckled under his breath as he looked at the spot where your cores met, and then when he brought his gaze up to meet yours you could see the shift in personality.

Your little puppy was gone. This man right here in front of you was all wolf.

He smirked at you before he answered softly, “That’s just half-hard, angel.”

Your eyes grew comically wide, surprise etched onto your expression as you once again looked down to the bulge in his trousers.

That’s what it usually looked like when you fooled around before.

You looked back up at him with questioning as he answered your unasked question, “I... change, during my heats. A lot of things about my body are going to be different when I’m like this. But I promise I’ll be very, very gentle.” He said with a soothing smile. His voice calming you down even when loaded with lust.

Slowly his arms fell to your sides as he brought your (his) sweatshirt over your head and threw it aside, followed by your shorts and then your panties.

It felt weird, being naked in front of a fully clothed Namjoon. But it also somehow made you feel safe, as if you could trust him with every piece of yourself.

Namjoon then laid you down on the bed, his hands travelling from your neck down to your heaving breasts.

His mouth working at your jaw as his skilled hands massaged the flesh of your chest, palming your nipples as his fingers tweaked and pulled at the stiff peaks.

He kissed the spot at the base of your throat that had you gushing wetness out onto the sheets. His fingers skimmed across your stomach as he finally, finally touched your core, drawing a surprised gasp from you.

His middle finger swept across your sensitive nub as he spread your juices around, stroking it and sending jolts of pleasure through your nerves.

Two fingers sank into your warm opening as he gasped at the feeling of your tight grip around him. Slowly pushing them in, in an attempt to prepare you for what’s to come.

You could hear the wet, squelching noises emanating from your cunt as Namjoon’s fingers fastened their pace.

He was having trouble tearing his gaze away from the view, his thick fingers thrusting into your pretty, quivering pussy. Creamy juices flowing down your thighs as you gasped his name softly in a medley of moans and whimpers.

You tried to straighten out your legs to cope with the intense pleasure building at the pit of your belly, warmth flowing through your body as you felt yourself get closer to that familiar edge.

Namjoon’s fingers curled as the tips grazed against the spot inside you that had you seeing stars every time.

You could vaguely make out the sound of his voice, as if you were listening through glass, “Cum for me, angel. Feel my fingers inside your filthy, little cunt and cum for me.” That was all it took for the dam inside you to burst as you groaned in pleasure. Your cunt quivering around your boyfriend’s fingers as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

The both of you waited a few moments, listening to each other’s breathing when you sat up straight and leaned foward to whisper in his ear, “Come on, it’s my turn to help you out.”

Namjoon, to your surprise, shook his head in refusal. “If you suck me off I’ll finish in ten seconds and the only place I’m cumming tonight is in your pussy, baby girl.”

You could feel the goosbumps rising on your arms at his words. He reached out and pushed you down once again, “I’ve got to prepare you well if you’re gonna take my cock, sweetheart,” he said as he ran his fingers down your torso, “So lie back, and let me taste you.”

You could feel him grinning against your thighs, his hot breath on your messy cunt making you shiver in anticipation.

His tongue swiped a kitten lick up and down your lips as a single finger pressed against your abused clit. The warm and wet appendage nudging at your opening as you gasped at the sensation.

You reached down to your boyfriend’s head between your thighs and roughly grasped strands of his hair in an attempt to cope with the overstimulation.

Soft, long strokes against your core sending shocks down to your toes as you arched your back against the sheets. Already reeling from your previous orgasm you could feel yourself reaching the end once again, much faster this time.

You felt incredibly hot, sweat forming on your forehead as Namjoon teased your clit with his mouth, gently nipping the bud with his teeth.

His hot tongue poked at your entrance and ever so gently eased in, his nose bumping against your bundle of nerves making you gasp at the sudden intrusion.

He looked up at you with his mouth still on your core, smirking and the next thing you knew you were bursting with pleasure, hot liquid splashing on your thighs as your legs jerked violently through your climax.

You could hear Namjoon’s faint chuckles, “Whoa Y/N, did I just make you squirt?” You blushed and covered your eyes with your fingers to escape his shit-eating grin. But his strong arms pulled your much smaller hands away from your face as he sat up towards you and attacked your neck once again.

His soft, plump lips mouthing at your collarbones as he drew marks across the skin. Blood red splotches that were sure to turn purple the next day. Namjoon murmured softly, “You’re mine. All of you, it’s all mine. Isn’t it, Y/N?”

You hummed in respone as you threw your head back and relished in the feeling of his breath on your neck as he bit and marked you to his desire.

He pulled back after what felt like minutes, the faint light of the moon creating a halo behind his back.

His large frame towering over yours as he spread your legs with a grip on your thighs.

He rushed to pull his t-shirt off his sculpted torso as you fumbled with the buttons of his trousers, helping him to discard the last piece of clothing keeping you from him.

The sight of his naked cock drew an audible gasp from you, it was double the size you were used to and angry red in colour. The weeping slit at the head thoroughly wetting his shaft with precum.

Namjoon touched your cheek gently to calm you, he rubbed his cock up and down your messy cunt. You leaned into his palm as he finally nudged at your opening.

You tried hard not to scream as he pushed the rest of it in, pain and pleasure intermingling as you felt like you were losing your virginity all over again.

He leaned his face down close to yours and whispered, “It’s okay, angel. Relax, take your time and get used to me, okay?”

You mumbled a small, “Mhm, okay.” Your voice straining as you felt like you were being split open. Minutes flew by and gradually you grew used to Namjoon’s size and girth inside you.

You mumbled, “You can move now, Joon.”

You could see the result of holding himself back in his expression and the way his arms shook around you.

You knew being so close to you and still not going feral was extremely difficult for him, let alone impossible for younger wolves.

But you also knew that he would never do anything to hurt you, even if it meant depriving himself of his most primal instincts instead of fucking you senseless.

He nodded in response and gave you an experimental thrust. You couldn’t help but moan at the sensation. His cock was so large you were stuffed full with no escape.

But you wanted more. You were done with being treated like a glass doll, you wanted him to let go and fuck you like he would any other she-wolf from his pack.

“I thought werewolves were tougher than this when they fucked. Or is it just you who’s scared to hurt me?” you piped up, feeling unusually feisty.

Namjoon looked up at you, his eyes piercing into yours, expression hardening upon hearing your remark. “You wanted to fuck a werewolf so bad,” he spoke softly, “Well then, take it like a big girl, Y/N.”

He thrust into you exceptionally hard, your body moving up against the mattress because of the force. His deliciously thick cock dragging against the soft, wet muscles of your cunt as he buried his nose into the crook of your neck.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull while you tried to process the immense pleasure running through you. Namjoon’s hands gripping your thighs, his balls slapping against your ass as he pushed his cock in and out of you.

You could feel every ridge, every nerve of Namjoon’s cock plunging into your pussy.

The squelching, wet noises emanating from your sex making you feel even more perverse, the obscene sounds filling your ears as you turned wetter by the second at the feel of his blunt cockhead buried deep inside you, massaging the spot that made you see stars.

Pleasure shooting through your veins and warming your belly as you felt the mixture of your juices and his precum slide down your thighs and the cheeks of your ass.

Rough, calloused hands gripping at the soft flesh of your hips with such force you were sure to find purple bruises littered the next day.

“J-joon, please make me cum. I wanna cum so bad, I can’t take it anymore! Please!” you garbled through the impact of his powerful thrusts, the sheer speed and force slamming you back into the bed with each movement of his hips.

You could hear him chuckle in your ear, the bastard.

“Tsk-tsk Y/N, be a good girl for me. You’ll cum when I want you to.” He grunted, “For now, you’re just gonna have to take it.”

A whine of frustration left your lips, the sinful noises combining with Namjoon’s almost painfully big cock assaulting your poor pussy.

You could hear your boyfriend whisper above you, “I wish you could look at your pussy right now. Oh god you’re so swollen, you’re dripping all over my cock like the little cumslut you are, waiting for me to give you my seed.”

You clenched around his cock at the thought of being filled with cum.

His cum.

“Fuck! You just got so much tighter, angel. You like that, huh? You want me to fuck my cum into you, breed you like my obedient little bitch? Gonna fill you up with my cum so you can carry my pups, my pretty little whore.”

You whined at his words, just the image of your poor, abused cunt filled with his thick cum had you salivating.

To your surprise, he had you flipped over and onto your stomach in the matter of a second.

Your ass raised instinctively while he gripped your hips with one hand with the other secure on your neck, squeezing just lightly enough to let you breathe but tight enough for you to know who owned you.

His hips snapped into yours rhythmically, his groans falling like music in your ears. Your tits bounced against your chest with each thrust he threw upon you. His balls slapped against your clit with every rough thrust, adding more to your already throbbing core.

You could feel the hot tears run down your cheeks, the overwhelming pleasure becoming too much for you to process.

The luxurious ache returning to your core you moaned his name without a care for who listened.

You could feel his hot breath nearing your neck as he drew his face close to your shoulder.

His teeth sank into the flesh as you screamed in pleasure and pain. Searing hot shocks ran through your veins as Namjoon licked at the thin rivulets of blood running down your skin. The tears flowing once again as you gasped from the thrusts.

The thought of being marked and belonging to your man had you squeezing against the large cock inside you. Namjoon had stood you up so now your back was pressed up against his hard chest while he pistoned into your thoroughly used cunt.

The hand that was once at your hip came down to rub at your neglected clit as you gasped and moaned in pleasure, the incredible pressure inside you building rapidly. His hand at your throat gently squeezing, just the way you liked it.

Namjoon’s fingers were furiously rubbing at your nub using your combined juices as lube. You had barely the energy to mumble, “Joon, I-I’m cumming! Please, baby I wanna cum so bad, please let me cum!”

You knew you sounded pathetic but to your fortune Namjoon was close to his end too, his grip having gone considerably harsher and cock largened even more inside you.

“Let go for me, slut.” he growled into your ear as you crashed once again, this time even harder thanks to the added stimulation, knowing that you were marked and now rightfully intertwined with the love of your life.

Namjoon came with a grotesque growl, hot, thick cum spurting inside you as he laid you down once again.

Hovering over you as he shot rope upon rope of his seed inside your warm, welcoming cunt.

After a minute when he was sure he was all drained out he removed his cock and instead plugged two fingers inside you, saying with an apologetic, “Gotta make sure we don’t spill.”

You giggled at his strange, instinctive behaviour.

“You know that’s not how it works, don’t you?” you said with a tired smile.

He looked at you with overwhelming love and tenderness, that favourite smile of yours painting across his beautiful face.

“Wolf habits die hard, I guess?”

#bts smut #ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #btswritingcafe #bts namjoon #kim namjoon au #kim namjoon smut #namjoon fic #namjoon smut #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #werewolf!namjoon #werewolf!bts #bts rm #se0kie

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the1918 · 4 years

Photo

‘take you with me’

a collaboration by @the1918 and @howdoyousleep3 - written for the wonderful Jo ( @cantabile-l ) on the anniversary of that incredible softie’s birth 😘

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: virgin!Omega Steve x Alpha Bucky

Word Count: 6.5K

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics (and associated themes/elements), Loss of Virginity, Anal Sex/Play, Rimming

Author’s Note: This was written as an extension of this head canon post about Omega Steve wanting to share his heat with post-Hydra recovery Bucky. It was written with the sole intent of giving the fair Lady Joanna of Soft everything she wants in a single fic... we think we got most of the way there, haha. We love you darling, happy birthday.<3

---

The past twenty-four hours had been sweet and boundless torture for Bucky. Steve’s preheat ramped up so quickly after they’d talked in the kitchen, after Steve had asked Bucky to help him through his heat, to be the first man to hold him and knot him and take him.

After Bucky had accepted Steve’s proposition -- no hesitation -- it was like some sort of string had formed to hold the two tightly together, never wanting to be outside of arm’s reach from each other. Bucky would sit down on the couch and Steve would follow right behind. He’d tuck in close to the alpha’s side, pressing his nose to Bucky’s neck like it was nothing, tops of his cheeks flushing once he realized what he was doing. Seeing the beautiful pink dusting those perfect cheekbones had made Bucky want to lay the omega out on the couch right then and there. Instead, he’d pressed the lightest of kisses against Steve’s cheek, cooed, “S’alright, sweetheart--keep goin’.”

Their scents had begun to mingle from then on, from Steve spending an ample amount of time tucked into Bucky’s neck. Bucky would walk around smelling his own scent but also Steve’s, sweeter than sin, and the intoxicating mix of the two swirling together was overwhelming. He had found himself crowding Steve up against doorways and counters, his grip tight on a narrow waist, nose pressed tight against that tender skin of his neck.

“Oh, honey,” he’d rumbled, letting himself suck on the hinge of Steve’s jaw, ignoring the steely line of Steve’s erection hot on his hip, “Y’startin’ to smell like me. That okay with you?”

Steve hadn’t been able to answer in words, choked on a few pitiful noises, wiggled in Bucky’s grip but tipped his head a tad more on instinct in place of that verbal answer.

Of course it was okay.

In fact, it was so okay that within a few hours Steve had begun to build up a nest in his room. Even though Steve is a virgin, he knows how to make a mean nest, has been building up some of the best, most tempting nests since the 40s. This one is different, though. This nest not only has Steve’s soft items (his clothing, his pillows, his sheets and his towels) but Bucky’s as well. In his pre-heat addled brain Steve had apparently been under the impression that he’s sneaky enough to steal Bucky’s used linens and sweaty shirts from his room and move them to his own without the alpha noticing.

Adorable.

Just like on the couch, Steve’s cheeks had turned the prettiest shade of pink when he’d been caught red-handed with a handful of items from Bucky’s laundry basket. He had even tried to turn and walk the other way before Bucky grabbed for him, chuckling and wrapping an arm tight around Steve’s waist, dragging him with ease back to Steve’s room. Bucky had cooed and praised him, pressed sweet noises into Steve’s neck, into Steve’s cheek, telling Steve how sweet of an omega he was for making them a nest.

“Such a pretty nest, omega, look at that. Put my clothes in there, show me how you make it pretty, come on, Stevie.”

But the hours pass and then suddenly Steve is not in preheat; not anymore. His normally sweet scent starts to smell like a peach that’s just short of too-ripe, and it surrounds Bucky, wraps around his every molecule and fills up his lungs and blinds him with need.

They both notice the exact moment the change happens but no words are exchanged; they don’t need them. Instead, Bucky just takes Steve’s hand and leads him to Steve’s bedroom, to the nest that smells like them both.

***

Steve Rogers is fucking gorgeous. It’s not the first time that Bucky has seen him naked -- not even close -- but it is the first time Bucky has seen him naked and spread out like an offering in front of him, bared, cock hard and flushed and lucious neck exposed. It’s the first time he’s seen Steve’s endless legs and golden skin shimmering with sweat and colored by the warm flush of his heat. It’s definitely the first time he’s seen Steve lower his lashes and spread his legs -- sweet but shy when he shows Bucky the gleam of slick between his thighs -- reaching one arm out in a plea for Bucky to ‘come here, alpha’, to press his weight on top of him.

There’s nothing that Bucky can do to resist the request. When he lowers his body down to cover Steve’s he’s shocked by how small it makes Steve’s huge body seem all of a sudden, and the feeling makes Bucky visibly puff his chest out, makes the increasingly primal-feeling alpha inside him swell with pride. He presses his lips to Steve’s and kisses him with all the tenderness he can summon, pours all of his love and a century of want into it, does everything he can to make Steve feel safe and cared for and cherished in every possible way.

Time melts into nothing and ceases to be a part of them. Their bodies touch and sink into each other, lines blurring as they learn each other’s taste and touch and sounds. Steve is needy in his heat -- of course he is -- but he’s handing his trust over to Bucky so freely and so surely that it seems almost impossible to Bucky. He’s been with omegas in heat before but this is different, so different, and he lets his alpha instincts guide him where they need to go. Steve follows without question.

Steve is the most sensitive, responsive little thing Bucky has ever seen. It’s pure fantasy. The first time he slips a finger inside of Steve, Bucky thinks he dies. The inside of Steve’s body is wet and scorching, and it’s gripping Bucky’s flesh and pulling it in like it’s his cock already-- but it’s the delicious mewling noise Steve makes that sends Bucky’s head flying. It’s the sight of Steve’s pink little rim stretched around his fingers that steals Bucky’s breath. Steve was wet before but now he starts to gush, and that’s when Bucky knows without a doubt that there’s not a single thing in this whole goddamn world that can stop him from getting his tongue inside Steve’s cunt in the next five seconds.

If Bucky thought Steve smelled delicious before, it had absolutely nothing on the scent and taste of Steve’s slick in his mouth. Bucky drinks him in like a dying man, slurps at Steve’s ass like it’s the only source of nourishment in a desert and Bucky is just a lost wanderer stumbling upon an oasis of peaches and paradise. He fucks his tongue in and out right alongside his fingers, revels in the weight of Steve’s calves slung over his shoulders.

It’s when Bucky adds a third finger and seeks out Steve’s prostate that Steve really starts to fall apart. It’s a visible shock to Steve’s whole body, and he lets out a yelp that quickly turns into a moan, presses down into it before scrambling back like he can’t take the enormity of such a good feeling. The reaction only makes Bucky want fuck his sweet spot harder, so that’s what Bucky does.

Steve comes untouched. Bucky had barely given his sweet little dick anything but a few teases of the tongue, so it blind-sides Bucky completely. Steve is a vision and a miracle before him; he whines and moans through it like the pleasure is too much, moans out Bucky and alpha like they’re the only words he’ll ever speak again. His dick sprays milky white all over his toned abdomen and his eyes squeeze shut, pink lips falling apart in a perfect ‘o’ shape. Bucky knows immediately that he needs to see all of that again.

He dives back in.

***

Reality begins to melt after that, just as time had done already. Bucky’s own cock is rock hard and dripping and neglected but all he knows now is Steve, his omega’s taste and his scent and his noises and his skin. So when Steve’s stream of soft sounds and broken words suddenly begin to form a question, it hits Bucky’s ears but he can’t process it-- not when he has so many other things to focus on, not when he’s got Steve’s slick dripping down his chin and three fingers buried in his warm cunt.

But Bucky hears them nonetheless and he knows he needs to check in, can’t ignore his omega, so he pulls his head back with a groan and licks at the crease of Steve’s hip, laps up some of the omega’s come that’s pooled in his navel while he’s at it.

“What’s that, baby? Huh?” Bucky pumps his fingers heavy and slow as he talks, relishes and wants to fucking live in the helpless noises Steve makes.

“Buck, alpha I wanna...lemme--”

“Come on, sweetness-- speak up. M’gonna give you whatever you want, whatever you need, just gotta tell me what that is.” Bucky knows he’s being mean, knows his fingers are stretching the omega so good, knows they have to feel like a relief all velvety and smooth inside of him. Steve’s body trembles underneath Bucky’s touch there in the damp sheets of their nest and Bucky can’t keep his lips off of him: stomach, hips, the inside of his thighs.

“W-wanna put it in my mouth, alpha…” and Steve doesn’t say it in a buttery smooth way he says most things with confidence and purpose. He sounds hysterical. Bucky hadn’t connected the gasps and the quaking and the noises, but Steve sounds like he’s about to pass out from sheer panic.

“Baby, hey hey, omega. Stevie,” Bucky purrs as he slips his fingers from Steve’s cunt, drenched well past his wrist in slick, and crawls up the length of the blond’s body. He peppers kisses as he moves, slow and open-mouthed ones, not succumbing to the urge to rush things, to hurry, for fear of frightening Steve seemingly further.

God, Steve looks like an angel, Bucky almost certain that he is one. The alpha wants to eat him whole, swallow him down, become one with him in every possible way. Those ocean eyes are struggling to stay open, are full of complete devotion that Bucky purrs upon seeing but there is something else there. Not only is it visible on Steve’s features, Bucky can smell it in the air, wants to bite and growl at the way his Stevie’s scent has gone from sweet to bitter.

“Hey, whats’a matter? Huh? You good? Need you to talk to me,” Bucky whispers into the kisses he gives Steve’s plump lips. He wants to suck on them, wants to tear at them with his teeth, but that’s not what Steve wants and that is the only thing that is important to Bucky right now.

Bucky doesn’t know his chest is constricted and tight until it unravels at the first sight of Steve nodding his head a little bit. At the first nod Bucky is murmuring nonsense into Steve’s cheek, running his lips up his jawline, over his sensitive gland.

“S’alright, Stevie doll, you’re just feelin’ so much aren’t ya? Such a sweet thing, a soft thing. Y’can’t help it, can ya?” and god bless him Steve’s bottom lip trembles as he nods his head, hiccups, “S’a lot, Buck,” and christ, Bucky wants to eat him up.

“But it’s good, yeah? Feel good?” Steve’s whimpers turn into a whine, nods his head frantically, almost bumps noses with Bucky he’s answering with such enthusiasm. That enthusiasm quickly shifts back to that chaotic energy, Steve’s eyes welling up with tears again, so sensitive, and he’s mumbling, “Lemme put it in my mouth, alpha please, please, Bucky wanna suck you off, wanna feel...wanna fe--”

Bucky can’t listen to the omega anymore, knows that if he says anything about Bucky’s cock he’s gonna bust a nut right here right now. His lips on Steve’s are something fierce, are slick and hungry and move and glide with ease, give him enough time to compose himself.

“You wanna get your alpha’s cock in your mouth, sweetheart?” and just saying it has fire rolling down Bucky’s spine, has him licking into Steve’s mouth in a few seconds that get away from him. Steve wiggles, feels so sweet underneath him as he does so, whispers, “Want your cock in my mouth, alpha…”

And Bucky is but a man and a provider.

He’d thought that Steve gasping with tears in his eyes right after he came untouched was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen but he hadn’t seen the omega scrambling between his legs, settling on his front, looking up at Bucky expectantly. Bucky is a bad man.

He chooses to sit back against the headboard to better see Steve, to better touch and hold and praise him. He’s even more grateful for the structure against the line of his back when Steve leans forward and gives the gentlest of licks to the angry head of Bucky’s cock.

Jesus fuck.

He might say that out loud, isn’t entirely sure, but what he does know is that Steve’s looking up at him for guidance, wants to be so good, but isn’t sure of what to do with his mouth.

“Do what feels natural, Stevie. Wanna show me more’a that tongue? Yeah? Grab onto it, come on--don’t be shy.”

If Bucky weren’t a man of faith before he may become one the moment Steve wraps a hesitant hand around the base of his cock, sticks his tongue out and laps sweetly at the tip. Those pink lips naturally purse, follow that little pink tongue, wrap loosely around the tip as well and Bucky is certain the angels start singing.

“Yeah, baby that’s nice, makes my alpha cock feel good.” He throws out the ‘alpha’ almost gratuitously, loving the obvious effect it has on Steve’s hormone-filled brain. “Feel good in your mouth?”

Steve is the sweetest thing in the entire world, makes Bucky’s teeth ache, doesn’t even pull off his cock to answer. He nods his head, inadvertently bobbing it, whimpers something that resembles an mhmm, his eyelids fluttering gently. Steve already seems to be calming down, shoulders not as tense, breathing evening out, and Bucky doesn’t even try to pretend like it doesn’t make him feel like the greatest alpha there ever was.

Steve’s broad hands somehow look small wrapped around the base of Bucky’s cock, the thick shaft, but his lips look like sin, all slick and pink. Steve is eager as hell but hesitant still, looks up at Bucky as he moves his head forward an inch or two, holds Bucky in his mouth and sucks.

“Oh, shit, Stevie--fuck, baby boy, that’s fucking nice.”

Steve mewls and hums at the praise, pitiful noises, sucks a few more times, runs his tongue around the parts he can reach in his mouth. Bucky slides a hand through that sun-kissed hair, adds a physical sense of encouragement, of praise, into the mix. He knows it’s the right decision when he sees the omega’s eyes roll a little, takes Bucky a little deeper at the same time.

He can’t help but dig his fingers into Steve’s scalp a little, a motion that makes Steve’s whole jaw fall open, both in a moan and as his mouth goes slack at the feel of the alpha’s possessive fingers in his hair.

“Mmm, you’re even sweeter with somethin’ in your mouth, aren’t ya? You think you can take me deeper?” It’s a cheap shot, he knows it is, carries through with it anyway. Steve Rogers loves a good challenge, does as Captain America, did as a scrawny punk in an alley, does as a sweet pup of a thing between his alpha’s thighs now.

Jesus fucking christ. Bucky is so fucking lost on this man.

Bucky’s hand slides down to the back of Steve’s neck, grips it as Steve makes his own sort of rumble -- a purr -- the cutest little noise as he slurps and sucks Bucky down. Steve is so obviously gone on this and shit, that’s nice and perfectly sloppy.

“Look at that, honey, ohh that’s nice, pull back some, come back and--oh shit, baby.”

Bucky’s toes are curling at the inexperience lingering in all of Steve’s actions, the edge of teeth here and there and the subtle reminders that his omega has never had another alpha’s cock in his mouth. Steve is a quick learner, natural instincts kicking in, but it’s his eagerness that is gutting, that has Bucky panting with an open mouth as he looks down.

He wants to let Steve lick his cock sloppy forever. Steve looks so fucking calm and happy, and Bucky just wants this moment to last for the rest of their fucking lives. But it can’t, because Steve’s eyelids are dropping almost too low now and Bucky can tell Steve’s breathing is uneven and slow, like he’s having to force himself to remember to take in air. His scent is sweet and not bitter but Bucky’s still worried, for a different reason he can’t totally put his finger on. That same provider voice in the back of Bucky’s head is reminding him that he’s not here right now just to get his balls sucked. He’s here because Steve needs something only an alpha can give him.

It almost pains him to do it, but Bucky makes himself push his fingers into Steve’s golden hair, tugging gently to ease him off of his cock. But of course Steve won’t go at first -- tries to sink his wet mouth even deeper -- so Bucky has to slide around to frame his jaw and pull him off.

“Sweetheart, honey-- fuck, we gotta fuck you now.”

Bucky says it almost like it’s an apology, and he hefts Steve up with hand under his armpits and moves him bodily before leaning down, capturing his lips and kissing him full of reassurance, a reminder of the trust Bucky knows Steve has placed in him. “You need it, baby, omega. Yeah? Know you do.”

He can see that Steve’s feeling softer after actually getting to feel his alpha’s cock heavy on his tongue, after getting to know the skin and flesh and bulk of what’s going to be inside of him. Steve nods his agreement at Bucky’s words, shows him how eager and ready he is. Bucky kisses him one more time before setting out to move him where he wants him.

“On your side, baby boy.”

Steve nods his understanding, eyelids sweet and heavy, and he goes to move but Bucky’s there first, helping him. He makes sure Steve is comfortable lying on his left side before slotting up behind him, vibranium arm beneath him, flesh hand brushing over his hipbone. They’re close, so close. It feels like there’s not an inch of their skin that isn’t touching.

Bucky runs a hand up and down Steve’s flank, kissing the back of his neck and his shoulders, mouths into the softness of his hair.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

Steve brings his arms to his chest, grabs for Bucky’s hand and wraps them both around his own chest, condensing his big body into an impossibly small and vulnerable package. His head falls back to rest against Bucky’s shoulder. The sight of the exposed, pale column of his throat almost pulls another growl from Bucky before he gets distracted by the plump red of Steve’s lips. He can’t help but angle down for one more kiss, and Steve smiles into it, happy but jittery and all slowed up like molasses. He nods.

Bucky slides his hand under Steve’s top knee and uses the grip to hold his leg up, open, giving him easy access to Steve’s slicked-up entrance. He pushes three fingers in and finds him tight but ready, just like Bucky had made him with his hands and his tongue. He lines up his cock and, slowly, begins to push.

The fat head of Bucky’s cock pops in and Steve’s body tenses. Bucky expects noises, the same frantic ones he has been hearing all night, thought he’d have to tell Steve to lower his voice. But Steve doesn’t make any sort of noise, nothing, barely breathes, Bucky can’t hear it or feel it. His silence worries Bucky even more than if Steve had cried out in pain so he stops, tightens his arms around him, squeezes to let him know he’s safe, that he’s okay.

“You okay, honey?”

Steve nods, once.

“Keep going. Please.”

Steve’s scent is still sweet-smelling, doesn't give off the bitterness of anxiety, so Bucky makes the decision to trust the omega and push his cock in a few inches further. He’s halfway in when Steve does finally let loose a low, breathy moan, but it sounds almost strangled, and that’s when it hits Bucky-- that Steve is trying to be quiet. He stops his hips again.

“Hey, babydoll,” Bucky says, giving Steve’s whole body a squeeze of reassurance. “Y’know that I want to hear your sweet noises, right?” He kisses the shell of Steve’s ear. “Let ‘em go, for me? How else am I supposed to be the good alpha you need, if I can’t hear what my pretty ‘mega is feelin’?”

The last sentence isn’t even fully out of Bucky’s mouth before Steve lets out loudest fucking moan Bucky has ever heard. It’s like something inside Steve just breaks, because at the exact same time Steve pushes his entire body back and down, effectively impaling himself on the rest of Bucky’s cock.

“Fuck, Steve!”

But Bucky can barely hear his own exclamation over the noise Steve makes, something high and throaty and almost inhuman but also sweet, so sweet and so perfect for the moment and motherfucker Steve’s body is wet and it’s tight like a goddamn vice, and Bucky’s half a heartbeat away from spilling his load right now.

Steve’s sound finally dies down, and his sweet body lets out the most contented sigh.

Bucky is in, all the way. He’s inside of Steve. His cock is sheathed inside a hot, molten place that no man has ever been before, and Bucky has been through fire and ice storms and pain in his life but this--this is his best friend, the love of his life, giving up his body to welcome him home again.

“Steve,” Bucky breathes. He opens his mouth, laves wetly over the scent gland on the side of Steve’s neck, a comfort for them both.

Steve’s scent is even sweeter and warmer than it’s been all night, and it makes Bucky’s blood sing, knowing how well his omega is taking him. He loves that he can actually smell Steve’s descent into satisfaction, and even though he’s sure that Steve must be experiencing some amount of pain -- no way around it, even with the extensive prep -- his alpha instincts are so in-tune to Steve’s body right now that he just knows his omega is okay, knows he's finally getting what his heated body needs.

They lay like that for several long moments, sharing kisses over Steve’s shoulder and just touching. It’s no small amount of torture for Bucky to not start fucking his cock in and out of Steve’s incredible heat, to remain still and let Steve adjust, but it’s more than worth the wait when Steve finally does. Bucky feels that last line of tension leave his body, feels it when Steve sighs into his mouth, murmurs Bucky’s name, not even his designation, but his name.

“God, Steve lemme move, lemme love on you, yeah?”

“Alpha…”

That’s all Bucky needs, leans up on his elbow some, looks down at the spot they’re connected and--

“Ohh shit, omega. Ah, Steve baby, wish you could see us, see what it looks like when you’re full’a me.” Bucky’s voice is gravelly and he prays Steve can understand him, can hear him, pulls back the tiniest amount and pushes back in slowly. It’s his turn to shout, to drop his mouth open and let whatever noise comes out come out.

Steve’s beautiful, every part of him, and that seems to be the recurring theme of the night because goddamn if Bucky doesn’t want to weep at the sight of his cunt all stretched and just taking Bucky.

He pulls his hips back again, grip under the crook of Steve’s knee unwavering as he does so, a sweet little noise floating out of the omega’s mouth as he moves. Bucky can’t help but press his lips to the omega’s ear, wants him to hear every little noise of pleasure the alpha makes, wants him to know it’s all because of Steve.

They find a rhythm, shift like water, ebb and flow, natural in every way possible. Bucky almost feels like he’s dancing, a part of his body constantly in motion, constantly seeking out Steve’s even though he is right here in his arms, letting him in. He wants to touch Steve in such a way as this for the rest of his natural life and then some, never wants to have the omega in any other way. He’s perfect for Bucky, squeezes him so tight all over, takes Bucky so well, even when his thrusts pick up pace, when they break through another level of thinning restraint Bucky tries to keep.

“Bucky…” Bucky nips at Steve’s jawline in sheer visceral reaction to hearing his name said in such a way by such a being.

“Ohh, Steve, yeah baby y’feel so fuckin’ good for me. All wet and hot and fuck are you tight for me. That all for me?” There has been no discussion as to what happens after this but there won’t need to be one; they both know how monumental this moment is for the two of them.

“S’all for you, all for you, Buck,” Steve breathes, hand clutching at Bucky’s forearm tight across his chest. Bucky wasn’t sure of what to expect in terms of how well Steve would take him, how well he’s take to sex in general, but nothing could have prepared him for feeling his slick walls flutter around his cock as it moves. He feels it before Steve does, a few seconds later Steve rousing in his arms, gasps turning in murmurs turning into whimpers.

“Yeah? Just sayin’ this sweet omega cunt is all mine gonna make you come? Fuck, baby y’so sensitive,” Bucky purrs against his cheek, moves and hooks his bent knee in the crook of his elbow, presses somehow close as he raises Steve’s leg. His thrusts have picked up pace, able to hear the slick lewd noises of Steve’s accomodating cunt, his slick, and the way Bucky’s cock sounds fucking into it.

“Alpha! I...oh no, god not yet, Buck, I--”

“Shh, you’re gonna gimme this, come on, honey. I’ll make you come as many times as you can take but the first one you have on your alpha’s cock is mine, m’hungry. Give it to me,” and god bless America, Steve comes apart just like that, absolutely crumbles against the line of the alpha’s body. He grapples for Bucky, any part of him he can reach, and Bucky gives him that, brings his hand to grip Steve’s neck at the base, the hinges of his jaw.

Bucky’s worried he’s going to blackout at the sensation of Steve coming on his cock, of watching Steve come in general he’s noticing. The sound of Bucky’s skin smacking against Steve’s backside is beautiful but the noises that sound like they’re ripped from the omega’s chest are even better. Bucky’s whispering encouragement, blind encouragement, right into the shell of Steve’s ear, fucks into him with abandon now, snatching up the chance to do so.

“Fuckin’ hell, omega, that’s the prettiest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life, oh baby love.”

Steve’s cunt quivers around the hot steel of the alpha’s cock, flutters and sings and tries its damn hardest to milk him of everything he’s worth. Bucky thanks the heavens that Steve doesn’t attempt to hold his noises back this time, letting them loose into the air in front of him, adding to the image that is Steve Rogers coming on a cock alone. On Bucky’s cock.

This first orgasm makes Steve like putty in his hands, Bucky holding him up, holding him close. He has to whisper a, “Baby,” to get Steve to tip his head, to meet Bucky’s lips over his shoulder. And he doesn’t stop moving, could never once inside of this slick wet heat, fuck. He’s worried Steve might reach that point of panic as he did when he had his first orgasm with the alpha’s fingers inside of him, which makes Steve’s next words all that more surprising.

“Want it, alpha. Please.”

Steve could mean anything but whatever it is Bucky needs to hear him say it out loud, needs to hear his omega beg, plead, ask.

“What do you want?” Bucky growls, demanding and starting to become a little crazy with it. “Stevie. Baby. Tell me your alpha what you need.”

Steve whines and struggles with his own voice, breathing tight, clearly still wrestling with himself and embarrassed by his need. “Want-- want you to fill me up.”

But Bucky can hear what Steve isn’t saying and he knows, knows what Steve really wants to say but he’s holding it back, holding it in, and there’s just no way Bucky can stand for that. He tightens his hand on Steve’s hip and fucks in extra hard, slamming in and grinding up, letting Steve know without words that Bucky expects his omega to say all of it.

“Fill you up with what, Stevie? Say it.”

“Your--” Steve gasps, stutters, squeezes his eyes shut to the onslaught of feeling, “--your knot.”

“Yeah? You want my knot?” Another hard thrust, and Steve lets out a high and feminine whine. “What else?”

“Wan’ your c-come, alpha, please.”

Bucky growls his approval into the back of Steve’s neck but keeps pressing, pressing in with his hips and his cock and his demands, needs to hear everything from Steve.

“Omega,” he warns, his unspoken ‘I won’t ask again’ earning a long whine from Steve. “Let it go baby, you're just hurtin’ yourself tryna keep it in. Tell your alpha what you want--”

“Breed me!” Steve cries, voice and resolve both finally breaking, and then it’s like he can’t stop talking. “Breed me, alpha, please. Need you to -- need you to gimme your baby, need it.”

The noise Bucky lets out can only be described as a snarl, pushed out between his teeth, nostrils flaring at the pleased omega scent that hits him like a bus.

“That what you want?” he grounds out. “Want me to knock you up? Huh? Gonna be good and take your alpha’s come, be sweet when I wet you up? Want me to fuck my omega and until he’s good and heavy with my kid?”

And Steve fucking wails at Bucky’s words, pressing his sopping wet ass down onto Bucky’s thick cock like it’s actually possible at this point for him to deeper.

“Yes, please,” Steve begs, “so good-- be so good for you alpha, please, lemme show you.”

Bucky groans and pulls almost all the way out before slamming in deep again. “God, Stevie I know you would. And you’d look so damn pretty with my baby inside’a you.” Bucky can’t stop imagining it now, can’t stop the visions that appear behind his eyelids of Steve all big and swollen with his kid, Steve walking around like that, bred up and proud and glowing. “Would be so sweet, I just know it. Know you’d take perfect care of ‘em, wouldn’t you, make ‘em just as sweet and gorgeous as you are.”

“Yes, yes,” Steve whimpers, “I promise to, promise, please alpha.”

“Come,” Bucky growls, demanding. “Come on my cock one more time, and I’ll give you my knot. Come and I’ll breed you up like my omega deserves.”

And Steve’s body must understand the words as every bit of the command that Bucky intended, because then Steve does come again, clenching down around Bucky like he really is trying to coax the seed out right of him and take him in, pull him deep, do everything that Steve’s omega brain is telling him he needs to do for his alpha.

“Fuck, baby,” and Bucky knows that’s it; he’s done. The base of his cock begins to swell up faster than he’s ever seen it happen and he’s almost worried that it’s too fast, barely has time to rumble into Steve’s ear that he’s “gonna come, gonna knot you, omega,” before it’s blowing wide and he has to thrust in as hard as he can just to push it past Steve’s wet and pulsing rim.

Locked tight in his arms, Bucky’s omega sings.

As soon as the knot pops Steve is coming again, this time untouched and completely dry. The impossible pressure of the tight, perfect cunt clamping down around him makes every cell in Bucky’s body explode with a pleasure so deep and so powerful that it makes his bones vibrate, makes his vision white out. His mind faintly recognizes a deafening roar ripping out of his own chest, but the only feeling that Bucky cares to register is his balls beginning to empty. There’s the carnal knowledge that right now Bucky’s cock is pumping his come deep while his knot keeps every drop locked in, keeps it right where it needs to be for Steve to feel every bit as bred up and beautiful as Bucky wants him to feel.

Still, blinding orgasm aside, Bucky’s hindbrain is screaming at him to do two things. The first is to bite Steve--to lay his open mouth down over the side of Steve’s neck and pierce the gland there, sink his teeth deep until his lips are tinged red with Steve’s blood. To claim him.

But Bucky doesn’t do that, settles for clamping his teeth down on the back of Steve’s neck instead, because he’s got just enough wherewithal left to listen to the second thing his instincts are telling him to do. It takes everything he has, but he shifts his focus away from his mind-blowing orgasm to zero-in on Steve -- on his omega, who is lying beside him and taking his first ever knot while coming down from his fourth orgasm of the day. Bucky’s never knotted a virgin before, but there’s something deeply ingrained in his lizard brain that tells him he needs to pay attention to Steve’s reactions right now.

He’s glad that he does.

It’s not long after the initial tidal wave of pleasure begins to ebb that Steve starts to squirm a little on Bucky’s knot, and Bucky would moan at the sensation caused by the movement if not for the way that Steve’s scent suddenly shifts. He goes from smelling like a sugar-drenched peach to something more sour, and Bucky instantly recognizes it to be fear. He stops biting the nape of Steve’s neck and smooths his hands over Steve’s chest and abdomen, soothing.

“Stevie,” Bucky asks, and he barely recognizes his own voice. “Steve—babydoll, what’s wrong?”

But Steve doesn’t seem to be able to verbalize his answer. His squirming becomes more frantic and is soon accompanied by panicked little whining noises, nothing like the sweet and euphoric sounds he had let Bucky pull out of him over the past few hours. Bucky realizes that Steve is trying to pull away— to pull off of Bucky’s knot— and when he gives it one particularly valiant attempt it ends in moans of pain for both of them.

“Steve, baby, no, no honey what are you doin’? You can’t—”

Bucky cuts himself off in favor of readjusting his arms around Steve’s torso, using his full strength to keep him tight and close, feeling guilty for the restraining motion but trying to keep Steve from hurting himself. Steve chokes out a panicked sob as he’s pulled backward, and there’s a terrifying flash of thought where Bucky’s afraid that Steve has changed his mind, that he doesn’t want this anymore-- but the thought is quickly squashed by the memory of how sweetly and earnestly Steve had asked and by Bucky’s innate, primal understanding that this is a common reaction for an omega’s first knot.

Right now, what Steve needs is for Bucky to take care of him.

“Baby, baby, relax, I’ve got you,” Bucky soothes. His cock is still working overtime, pumping Steve up with come, but Bucky ignores it. The omega stops struggling but his high keening keeps up, fearful little noises that break Bucky’s heart. “S’okay baby boy. You can take this, yeah?”

Bucky does what he can to physically soothe his omega, arm that was just tight around Steve’s chest moving up on instinct to the little one’s lips. It’s a risk, not anything Bucky’s ever done with an omega, let alone anyone, but it seems to work when Steve suckles his two digits right between his lips, against his tongue. Bucky’s other hand rubs and strokes at Steve’s belly, runs up his chest, across his pecs.

“Shhh, baby hush, please honey,” Bucky whispers into Steve’s temple, kisses him there. “Listen to your body. Feel. Breathe, and feel. I promise that you can take this, promise. Your sweet body was made to take this.”

Bucky presses a hand down over Steve’s lower belly, gently. He likes the way it feels for himself but he also knows it will be calming for Steve. It’s an unspoken affirmation that Bucky is the one inside him, loving him and taking care of him-- but there’s also a second layer to it, the implication that Bucky’s hand is touching over the exact place where new life might one day grow, where Bucky is filling him up like exactly like Steve truly wants; like Steve needs, even if they both know he’s on birth control because that doesn’t really matter. Bucky knows in his bones that this is the reminder that Steve needs.

Soon, finally, Steve begins to calm, his fingers falling from Steve’s lips as he does so. Bucky melts against the skin of his back and kisses his shoulder. He exhales, happy again now that his omega is going to be okay, and finishes his thought aloud,

“Made to take me.”

And Bucky can feel it, can hear it and smell it, the effect it has on Steve. His omega whines sweetly and relaxes, sucks in Bucky’s scent through his nose, exhales out the weight in his century-old heavy heart. Bucky knows his words are a reminder that Steve is his now.

They don’t need the bite, the biological bond -- not yet -- because Bucky has just become the first person to take Steve and he’ll walk through hell and back a thousand more times if that’s what he has to do to be the last.

Because Steve Rogers has Bucky Barnes’s heart, and if Steve is Bucky’s now then Bucky is Steve’s -- a million times over and a million miles deep.

***

Happy Birthday Joanna!!! K and I love you, ‘till the end of the line.

P.S. Sorry we ran out of time to write aftercare. Just trust us-- Stevie gets his cute little asshole fingered and cleaned of Bucky’s come in a bubble bath.

UPDATE: This fic and its preceding head canon post (adapted) is now one story posted to Ao3!

#stucky #stucky ff #stevebucky #steve/bucky #steve x bucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #a/b/o/#my fic #collaboration

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hogwartsfirebolt · 4 years

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Hi again! This is part two (out of three!) of my 2019 drarry fic recs. In the first part I recommended ten of my absolute favorite stories I read this year, and here I am today with ten more that I also love dearly and hope you’ll enjoy too. The banner art is by one of my FAVORITE ARTISTS, @aceveria-art who was kind enough to let me use their art for this and just LOOK AT THAT STUNNING PIECE (here’s the link for you to reblog if you want cause omg). Now, in no particular order, here’s some of my

FAVORITE FICS I READ IN 2019 PART TWO

1. Of Wands and Trees - Omi_Ohmy - 45k - All Draco wants to do is be a wandmaker, but to do so he needs to understand the soul of trees. Of course, the only man who might be able to help him is the one man who is more of a mystery to him than any tree.

We’re starting out this list with this absolute gemstone of a fic. It’s got everything: adventure, redemption, cabins in the middle of nowhere, a spin on the kind of magic we’re used to in this fandom, ancient trees, passion, wandlore, Draco being forced to work for his own food, Harry bathing naked in streams (my mouth’s watering as we speak), and it’s so, so good, the writing, the characterizations, the setting so vibrant I felt like I was standing right there. Just, a gem all around.

2. Take Into the Air (My Quiet Breath) - guardianmira - 11k - Draco is dying of Hanahaki Disease. Serves him right, Harry thinks.

This fic felt, to me, like something completely different from the eighth year fics I usually read, and, having found it by accident, it absolutely blew my mind! I did not expect to love it as much as I did, and I definitely did not expect to feel it as deeply as I did. Just the right amount of angst to give us that sweet, sweet relief at the end. Very lovely.

3. We have a Problem - @xx-thedarklord-xx - 3k - Weddings tend to have a variety of things happening at one time. With a groom as meticulous as Draco, Ron expected nothing to go wrong. When shenanigans, walkouts, disasters, no-shows, and a lack of food strike, it’s up to Ron to save the day.

SO SWEET. Just so, so freaking sweet and funny and different. Ron’s POV was fresh and lovely and so clever, and the plot is hilarious and engaging. It reads so quickly that you will barely feel time passing, and I am 10000% sure that everyone’s bound to adore this. It’s just one of those fics. I cannot recommend it enough. It will be the absolute best 15-20 minutes of your day.

4. Foreplay - @lqtraintracks - 6k - Getting a raging hard-on on the duelling room floor, pinned under Harry Potter’s sweaty body, is not how Draco saw his day going, but… Well, here he is.

Mmfffff. Can barely think about this without having to fan myself, because it’s probably the hottest fic I read all year. Aurors sparring, a Harry who is unbelievably hot, a Draco who tries but simply can’t resist him, showers, a bit of semi-public sex, and the very literal definition of “not safe for work” can be found in here. Just, goodness, it should’ve taken me half an hour to read it and it took about one because I KEPT STOPPING TO BREATHE. Lqt never fails to deliver powerful, incredibly sexy stories and you should all go see for yourselves what I’m talking about.

5. Safe Words - felix_atticus - 26k - Draco discovers his husband has been keeping a secret from him. At first he’s amused. Then he’s curious. The problem? Harry’s always had a hard time saying no.

Speaking of powerful, this one here stabbed me right in the chest and twisted the knife, but in the absolute best way possible. It’s FANTASTIC. The writing is beautiful, the characterizations astounding, and I felt every single emotion so deep inside me. It paints how difficult it is to navigate trust, how impossible it feels to put our own wants and needs over what’s expected of us, explores consent in so many different aspects of life and just presents a beautiful relationship at its core. It really is gorgeous.

6. Upstaged - @lettersbyelise - 3k - West End actor Drake O'Malley starts receiving fanmail from a (not so mysterious) stranger.

The epistolary format already makes this stand apart from our usual fic, but the plot itself is also something I hadn’t ever read before. It’s written so smoothly that it reads like a dream, and I loved every second of it and how it allowed me to build up an entire picture of what was happening with each letter. I’ve gone back to it two or three times just to experience it all over again, and I always have a great time when I do. This is so lovely, witty and just different.

7. Pure Imagination - @aibidil - 14k - An eighth-year tale of depressed happiness, reluctant imagination, and conflicted hope. And skateboarding.

My god is this fic lovely. I spent about three quarters of it clutching my chest because I loved it so much, I love these kids so much and it hit me right in the feels to see everything they go through after the dust of the war settles and they have to figure out their place in life. This is hope in a jar, it’s that light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel story that becomes a metaphor for life itself. A beautiful, beautiful ride.

8. Poor Unfortunate Souls - @doubleappled - 19k - Draco is a potioneer. Harry is trying to save his sex-challenged marriage. Everything is a mess, but at least there’s an octopus in the lobby.

Chaotic, unique, HOT!!! The whole set up is brilliant, Draco’s work is very interesting, the scenes where we get to see with Harry and Ginny are so incredibly well done that my jaw fell to the floor a little, and what can I even say about the entire buildup we get for Draco and Harry’s relationship, it was MASTERFUL. This fic is absolutely amazing and the ending is so good I can still savor it when I remember it. Go check it out, right now!!!

9. Weather With You - @quicksilvermaid - 29k - Flood. Heatwave. Cyclone. Epic storm ready to rip London apart? Something strange is happening to the weather inside the Ministry of Magic…–Featuring magical creatures, Harry wearing minimal clothes, a snarky snake, and Draco Malfoy who is definitely Up To Something.

This story is such a fun ride that can, at times, be absolutely freaking hilarious (the whole “He Is Up To Something” narrative never fails to crack me up), and at times become sweet and tender. There is nothing more relatable to me than a Draco who wants Harry so much he doesn’t even know what to do with himself, and it was a joy to read him here, and actually, both of their characterizations are so fantastic that they definitely feel like an extension of what we know about them to begin with, and I just had the best of times watching them work their way out of this mess. Sprinkle in a bit of parseltongue, witty snakes and shirtless Harry, and you’ve found yourself the best way to spend the evening.

10. A Sword Laid Aside - @korlaena - 128k - When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be. Draco has to navigate dealing with this Potter while being hunted by Dark wizards and wanted by extremists in the Ministry. When things take a turn for the worse, Draco has to decide whether he’s going to keep running or find a way to protect the world and the people he cares about most.

There are so many things I want to say about this one, so many little details that drove me wild and I want to mention but I just… I- this story is absolutely MIND BLOWING, it’s deep, it’s amazing and frankly extraordinary and I don’t even know how to tell you how much I adore every single word of it. This must be one of my absolute favorite versions of Harry that I’ve ever read, his immense power, his internal conflict, pain and sheer physicality made me weak in the knees; Draco’s characterization is also so heartbreakingly spot on that I could barely believe what I was reading. This story gripped me, squeezed me, spun me around a little and then put me upright again, and there is honestly nothing like it. I haven’t even told you anything about the plot, which… omg. There are no words to tell you how much you NEED to read this. Just typing this is making me want to embark on this adventure again. — I have no excuse for the amount of Harry thirst to be found on this list, I just- well. I really hope you like these little gems! Hahaha. If you do end up reading any of them and want to chat about them, or have questions about any tags or warnings that might worry you, my DMs are always open!!! Enjoy ❤️

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fic recs #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry fic rec #drarry rec list #2019rec #ficrec

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soudam-appreciation · 4 years

Text

A Special Kind Of Lamp? (3)

TW:: this chapter contains depression and brief/vague mentions of s*icide. Stay safe loves!

. . .

Gundham knew he should get up. His mother had left hours ago for her job, and he felt hunger gnawing at his stomach. Heaving a sigh, he rolled his feet off the edge of his bed and let his body follow. He sat there for a moment, on the floor. The random assortment of objects that lay scattered across his room did not make his position any more comfortable. He contemplated sitting here all day doing nothing, or maybe cleaning up the mess that had been gathering for months, or perhaps even taking a shower (since gods know he could use one). Groaning, he decided against all of those things and stood, trudging out of his darkened cave without even putting on pants.

He glided down the stairs, kicking up a cloud of dust and animal fur with every sullen step. Like a ghost, he wandered through his household, barely registering the pristine condition of the place. Winding his way around the bright Victorian style living spaces, he reached his destination.

He rifled through the pantry, then the fridge, grabbing a single can of soda. Then, opening the freezer, he removed a bag of frozen tater tots and an entire tub of ice cream. Dropping them on the countertop quickly, and shaking the cold from his hands, he pushed the freezer shut with his sockless foot. Not bothering to get a plate, he pulled a spoon from a drawer somewhere and a towel from another and wrapped up the bag of frozen tots. Picking up his items, he began to leave. However, as he took a few steps, he caught a glimpse of a note on the countertop.

"Happy 21st birthday, love!" the note read. "I know you haven't felt right lately, but I thought maybe today you could go out around town! I've left some money for you, in case you want to go out and get anything!"

Gundham sighed. It was sweet of her, for certain, but he didn't know if it was alright to take her money. He certainly had enough of his own, for the time being. But then, on the other hand, was it now expected of him? Was he supposed to go out and about because his mother had both suggested and paid for it?

Lifting his frozen items, he tromped into the main living room and sat on their plush rose sofa. He opened the bag of tots, popping one into his mouth as he contemplated.

He must have spent around 20 minutes munching the solid, ice-cold chunks of potato before halfheartedly making up his mind. Standing, he briefly wondered if that meant his mind was, in fact, not made up, but he brushed that aside and wandered back to the kitchen. When the leftover frozen goods were replaced in the freezer, he scooped the money and note from the counter. Now that life down here was back to the norm, he retraced his earlier steps and returned to his room.

He switched on the light, wincing at how utterly disgusting everything looked when one could see it. The room was quickly returned to darkness.

Snatching a pair of jeans and a ratty band tee from his closet, he changed quickly and tugged on his boots. He didn't want to bother with a shower, he knew he'd lose all energy far too soon. Cold, stiff fingers ran through his greasy, tangled hair, and he considered a hairbrush. No, too much. He had to get outside, spend whatever money he had been given, and return. No need to look nice.

Shoving his arms into a dark jacket that smelled slightly of mildew and was probably a size or two too small, he trotted back down the grand staircase. He grabbed his (majorly unused) car keys from a dish by the door, checked to make certain his phone and the money were both stuffed into his pockets, and opened the door.

The light shining in his face almost made him shriek, but he caught himself and threw his arm before his eyes instead. A sudden and steady hiss pushed from his lungs, and it took far too long for him to snap out of his haze.

When he lowered his shield, he glanced at the too-bright world and rows of houses. He also caught the eye of a small group of children that had probably been playing in the street, before they noticed him. He took a moment longer to understand why he must seem so strange, and why the children were likely staring. To test his suspicion, he bared his teeth and hissed once more, this time at the kids. They scattered, screaming.

Of course, how were they to know he wasn't a vampire?

Already feeling far too strange after this interaction, he stepped fully outside. The warmth of the sun washed over him, and the soft scent of flowers drifted in the breeze. He took a long, deep breath, and closed the door behind him.

He hadn't driven in so long he wasn't sure he remembered how. After a few failed attempts at reversing, thankfully none of which ending in property damage, he finally got out of the garage. Gundham was on the road again.

For the first several minutes, Gundham's average car speed was around 10 mph. He wasn't sure he could keep the car in control if h went much faster, and he had forgotten his wallet and ID at home.

After he had been out and about for about half an hour, the sun was becoming more bearable and he could finally get nearer to the speed limit. He pulled into a parking lot at the local superstore, ending this extra-long car trip with the world's worst parking job. Whispering an apology to whoever may need to park near to him, he locked the vehicle and wove his way into the store.

Entering the building felt like an enormous undertaking. He had to get in, exhaust as much of the money as he could, and get out. Unfortunately, this also meant he had to force himself through aisle after aisle of bright lights and items he had no need for.

He spent twenty minutes simply looking for things to buy, eventually encountering the pet section. Looking only briefly, a deep unease and upset coiled in his chest. His hamsters were the only part of him that he had taken above excellent care of, and even then they had not lived past a few years. He hadn't managed to breed them at that time, and the absence of his always-present companions dampened his spirits considerably.

He pushed on, reminding himself that this was not about his Devas. This was about buying what he could and going home.

Scooping up some shampoo, he wormed through personal care and clothing aisles, ignoring nearly everything on the shelves. He made a beeline for the electronics aisle, certain he could pick something up for a fairly high amount. Unfortunately, he wasn't precisely sure where that was and got turned around quite quickly.

Somehow, he ended up in a deserted and dusty section of the store. The rows of shelves seemed nearly empty, despite being stocked full. The graphics on the packages were mostly faded as if they were quite old compared to the other items in the building. Glancing around for a hint of where he had found himself, a sign hanging above the aisles caught Gundham's eye. Upon it was printed, Old and Discontinued Stock.

Intrigued, he continued through the packed shelves, passing rows of what seemed to be ancient exercise equipment. Rows and rows of items advertising their 'as seen on TV' status in bold red (or rather, pink) spiked bubbles filled his line of sight, and remembering stupid infomercials from his slightly younger years almost made him smile out of sheer annoyance.

As he turned a corner, a slightly different item brought his attention. In large, curly letters, the banner across the front of the box crossed an image of a fairly nondescript lamp, sporting the words LoveLight™. He approached, sliding one box off of the shelf. Turning it around, he hoped to read what exactly it was supposed to do on the back of the box. Fortunately for him, that is exactly where such a description was found.

It seemed to claim something about... connecting soulmates? He wasn't sure how well it could work, but he thought he might as well buy it anyways. It was right about the amount he needed to max out the gift from his mother and return home. He didn't care much about what color the lampshade was, so he carried to the checkout the box he was already holding.

. . .

Tromping up the stairs, he dumped the bag of lamp onto his overcrowded desk. He groaned as a few stray papers slid to the floor. They gathered around the edge, adding to the steep piles of clothes and garbage that littered the area.

He threw himself onto his bed, wrapping his favorite comforter around himself. Today had been longer than expected, and he was exhausted from his excursion, even if it was only an hour and a half. Pulling out his phone, he opened YouTube and began the first video in his feed. He didn't even try to focus as his eyes drifted shut, and sleep overtook him.

. . .

When he stirred, it was long past dark. He groaned, twisting his body sluggishly to be freed from his cocoon-like prison of the blanket. Propping himself up on his elbows, he tried to blink the sleep from his eyes. When this attempt was unsuccessful, Gundham rolled back over and tried to return to sleep.

Unfortunately, his blankets were still too tight, and he was made painfully aware of two things. The first was how hot it was; the second was how badly he needed to pee.

He squirmed yet more, struggling to free his arms. When he had at last accomplished this, he slowly peeled the comforter away layer by layer, until he was sitting fully clothed, shoes and all, on his bed. He tugged off his boots, exhaustion numbing his fingers, and slowly began to make his way to the bathroom.

. . .

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he yawned and looked for something to do. The night was often when he was "productive", but tonight he still felt ready to collapse in on himself, like a dying star. What a worthless waste of space he was.

Tonight was certainly not the first night he felt ready to give up. This was, in fact, a near-daily occurrence. However, he knew that his mother would be left alone and that he, too, was far too afraid of what lay beyond, so he instead searched for an occupation for his hands.

He settled upon the plastic bag that contained the boxed “soulmate lamp”. Lifting it, he noted that it felt a bit heavier than before, but attributed this to his cold and tired limbs. Once the box was freed from its thin plastic containment, he searched for an opening.

He examined it, locating the circular sticker that secured the cardboard. Picking at the edges with his overgrown nails, he managed to peel up the side (with great difficulty). The packaging from there was not too difficult to decipher, though it still caused mild annoyance.

Only when the lamp sat undisturbed atop his bedside table did he begin to feel the stirrings of excitement. Before, it had merely been a vessel for assuaging boredom and returning home as quickly as possible, but now it seemed to radiate a faint... hope.

He plugged it in, wincing as the bright light flicked on. Snatching the instructions from their perch beside the lamp, Gundham wrestled with the folded paper to find the directions to dimming the damned thing.

Said directions were fairly simple to find, so when he had saved his eyes from the caustic sheen, he began the calibration process.

The process was long and bothersome, it seemed. First was simple, imputing the kinds of personal information every internet-connected device needs. Each answer was written against the shade with the "specialized" pen, and submission was accompanied by a pleasant blip sound. Then came the long series of questions that needed answering, a process by which the lamp was to determine one's soulmate. This step took the greatest time of the setup, costing him nearly an hour total. If he had had anything else to do, he simply would have given up.

Finally, however, the setup was complete, and he was alerted to this by another small electronic noise. Gundham tossed aside the instructions, groaning audibly as a loading circlet began rotating against the shade. He replaced the pen in its slot at the lamp's base and leaned back against his plush comforter. The loading process took several minutes, as it ran through the extensive database of other questionnaires (or so he assumed, this was never stated in the instructions). It took quite a few minutes, long enough for him to begin to drift off to sleep.

He was awakened by yet another blip sound, this one likely stating that the final stage was complete! He bolted upright, watching the shade warily for any signs of writing.

And then, something appeared.

A hasty message scrawled in sloppy and nearly unintelligible print. It seemed rushed, letters running together on the mesh shade.

"Hi! I just got this thing and I'm super excited to talk to you!!!"

It worked.

He blinked, quietly astonished, amazed that such a device could do much of anything at all. As he sat in the dark, bewildered, another message began to appear.

"I can't wait til you get these. I'm so excited to talk to you!!"

He shook his head, strands of grimy dual-colored hair falling out of place. His chest felt tight, the sensation of someone other than his mother even speaking to him so foreign. Even if the messages did sound as if they were written by a child.

"Hey again! I hope your getting these!"

Fists tightened against wrinkled sheets. Gundham felt his stomach churn, yearning for another message.

"Today was fun! I got to hang at the Skate park! What did you do today?"

Tears pricked at his eyes, the sweetness and innocence in each message rushing over him.

"I don't have many friends. I think when we get to meet we'll be real good friends! Right?"

A lump formed in his throat, and he swallowed hard.

"Good morning! I hope you respond soon!"

One single tear dropped from his face, hitting his exposed skin.

"Hey, just seein if youre ok! I had a weird day today :("

They kept coming, messages appearing faster and faster. Was it a backlog? Were these old messages? Gundham wasn't sure.

"Guess what today is? It's my birthday! I'm 14!! How old are you?"

The tears kept coming too, streams of salty liquid flowing freely across his cheeks. He couldn't have stopped it if he tried.

"I wonder what kinds a things you like?"

Messages appeared faster and faster, quickly filling available space across the lampshade.

"I hope ya feel alright today! I still can't wait to talk to you. :)"

Gundham's vision blurred, too much to see the individual messages. Hundreds of letters blurred to nothing but glowing gold clouds, soft light filling, and obscuring, his vision.

The years of isolation began to crumble. He had tried so hard to harden his heart, to erase this feeling of crushing loneliness, and the facade he had so tirelessly built with shaking and scarred hands had started cracking from the pain. He hadn't understood how much he craved this, how desperately he had needed someone to talk to. For someone to ask if he was ok.

His body shook with sobs, ribs splintering under the pressure of the world as golden light flooded his room. Messages poured in, the light now nothing less than a glowing orb in his eyes, but he couldn't look away. He watched as more and more scribbled notes filled his mind, the emptiness usually stored in his chest now replaced with intense hurt. Love was what he needed, friends and company and care were the things he desired so desperately, the things he had never allowed himself to want.

The light began to fade, the most recent messages having used their allotted minutes. He sniffed, scrubbing tears from his eyes with harsh hands, and squinted at the lamp. Choking, he continued to press against his eyes. Perhaps if he tried, he could stop the next wave.

He caught another flicker of light, quickly leaning back toward the device to read whatever was there. Then he watched as, in real time, more words scrawled across the shade.

"Just wanted to say I still love you."

His last chance at holding back was ruined, and again he began to weep. Pushing away just enough to reach for the pen, he grabbed it with shaking fingers and raised it to the shade. Slowly, he pressed the tip against the mesh fabric and began to write.

"I'm so sorry."

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notchesandbullets · 4 years

Text

Ryokuryuu’s Lifeline

Part 3: Pure Love

Trigger Warning: hints at sexual assault and rape.

You gazed up at Jae-ha with a soft smile on your face as he appeared before you. His lavender eyes scanned over you, meeting your gaze when he was satisfied you were alright.

"Cabin?" He inquired, studying you closely for any signs of discomfort or hesitation. It was getting later in the night and he knew you had to be feeling tired.

Smiling sleepily at him, you took his hand in yours, leading him below deck. The captain had given you two separate quarters at first, but since you were both kids when he rescued you and couldn't fall asleep without him, she didn't mandate what you could or couldn't do, knowing he would always prioritize your comfort and safety first above all else

You entered your room with Jae-ha trailing behind you, grinning as you remembered your earlier conversation with Yona.

I love him.

Suddenly, strong arms encircled your waist from behind you, bringing you closer to his chest. You felt the heat radiating from him through your layers of clothing and sighed, snuggling closer to him, face tilting up as you twisted to press your cheek against his shoulder.

Jae-ha eased as he observed you keenly, no signs of even the slightest bit of flinching away from his touch. Dropping his head down, he rested his forehead against yours, exhaling slowly.

He had to be more careful.

You always had an issue with physical contact. Jae-ha was guessing it had something to do with being chained in an alleyway, vulnerable to whoever decided to make themselves known and so he tried his best to tone down his personality around you.

Captain Gi-gan had taught him how to woo a woman properly, and soon enough, it became a part of him. You never asked him to change, but he never missed the way you would wince at his words on occasion.

It was the only time he ever regretted his charming demeanor when you were noticeably agitated from his words. It happened the first time when he found you.

"What's a beautiful lady like you doing in a place like this?"

Jae-ha's eyes widened in shock when you audibly whimpered, curling your body away from him feebly.

At the time, he didn't understand what he did wrong. It had taken a lot of time for you to open up to him, years in fact. You had told him at one point, that hearing those words reminded you of what people would say to you before they did whatever they wanted to with you. Jae-ha once asked you if anyone had touched you.

You understood the gravity of his question.

He still remembered the way guilt and shame clouded over your eyes as you confessed to him that you didn't remember. Sometimes you would sleep for days at a time, and when you woke up, things would feel different but you couldn't clearly recall it. It was almost like they had taken a part of you, but it was beyond excruciatingly painful to never remember the details. You felt frustrated and angry that they had walked away with something that you didn't even know about at the time. That night, he had reassured you that no matter what had happened, you weren't at fault. After you fell asleep in his gentle and grounding embrace, he made a promise.

"I'll keep you safe." He brushed back hair that had fallen into your eyes. "I promise, with my life, I'll protect you, Y/N."

Jae-ha's jaw tightened at the memory as he held you close to him. A small smile making its way onto his face as you scrunched up your nose, yawning adorably.

You're so cute, Y/N...

"Bedtime?" His hot breath tickling against your ear as he whispered.

You stirred sleepily in his arms. "But it's warm." You pouted, speech slurring due to exhaustion. "I don't wanna move."

Jae-ha couldn't contain himself anymore, you were just too cute. You let out a squeak as he scooped you up in his arms.

"Jae-ha!" You cried out, giggling, arms immediately winding around his neck.

He chuckled, carrying you easily to bed and lowering you gently down. As he went to remove his arms from your form, you caught his hand. Jae-ha looked at you with wide eyes as you mumbled, "Stay."

You gave him your best puppy eyes, "Please?"

Jae-ha bent over you, the mattress dipping under the weight as he rested on his hands placed beside you, nuzzling your hair.

"Always." He murmured, echoing what you had said to him earlier that day.

He arranged himself around you, not wanting to crowd you.

You pouted at his distance, tugging his wrist closer, hoping he would take the hint. Jae-ha's breath caught in his throat and he held back a groan.

You were going to be the death of him.

Jae-ha shifted closer to you, carefully draping an arm around your waist, the other resting underneath his head. You fit beside him like a puzzle piece, head tucked underneath his chin, legs tangling with his.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier." He apologized quietly.

He felt your chest vibrate as you mumbled something incoherent into his neck and Jae-ha laughed softly. You grinned as you pulled back slightly, enough to look him in the eye.

"I said it's alright." You reassured him.

Jae-ha's body went rigid. "No, it's not."

He frowned, he could remember the way you flinched away from his words as if they had cut you. He never wanted to see you in pain and afraid, especially from him.

"Hey," You traced his jaw with your finger, "I can hear your thoughts."

Your concern touched him and he spiraled deeper into his guilt.

I don't deserve it.

I don't deserve you.

"Stop thinking whatever it is you're thinking because it's a lie." Your voice cut through to him, snapping him out of his self-loathing. "Do you remember our system?"

Jae-ha immediately nodded.

Two fingers pressed to the inside of his wrist meant you were okay, and one finger meant that you weren't okay.

"I used two earlier, remember?" Jae-ha inclined his head. "I'm okay, I promise."

You beamed up at him, causing him to crack a tiny smile. Your expression turned serious as you pried his arm out from under his head, running a thumb over his knuckles.

"I don't think I ever thanked you." The green dragon stared at you in confusion. "I wanted to say thank you for caring about me enough to let me face my demons and always being there to pull me out if it gets to be too much."

The disbelief etched on his face almost caused you to laugh, he really was so cute. "I don't want to struggle with this my entire life, I need to confront it sometimes and know when enough is enough. I'll only ever know if I put myself out there to learn, right? I love the way you are, because regardless of how much you flirt with women, you truly respect them. I'm living proof. You didn't take advantage of me in my state when you first found me, and that still continues until today. I trust you, Jae-ha."

Jae-ha's breath hitched. You had only said that a handful of times to him since the first, but each and every time it never failed to take his breath away.

"Yah," He tried to tease, voice cracking, "You can't just reveal my secrets like that, Y/N."

You shot him a sly smirk. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

A comfortable silence fell as you continued to caress his knuckles with the pad of your fingers.

"Actually," Jae-ha's smooth voice was hushed, "I don't care if they all know. I don't care if I start to get a reputation of being too soft."

He moved his face closer to yours until he was a hairbreadth away, and you felt a familiar heat rise to your cheeks.

"The only thing that matters to me, is you, and whether or not you're safe. I don't care about anything else." Jae-ha declared quietly.

After a few moments, he changed the topic. "Are you still having trouble sleeping?"

Your hesitation answered for you. As you felt the shame rise, you pulled your hand away from Jae-ha's and brought the other up to cover your face.

He was much too quick, catching on quickly to what you were trying to do. His hands shot out to grasp your wrists, keeping them away from your eyes.

"Don't hide from me."

His plea caused you to freeze.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of..." You closed your eyes as Jae-ha pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I just..." Conflicted emotions stirred from within you. "I don't understand why it's still so hard for me. I'm safe, I'm not chained anymore, so why does it feel like I'm still not free? Why am I still so scared?"

Jae-ha's heart shattered as your voice broke with the amount of raw pain seeping through it. His hands released its grip on your wrist, dropping back down to wrap around your back. He brought you up to eye-level with him, hooking a finger under your chin so that you were facing him.

"Y/N, listen to me." Violet orbs bore into you, unwavering, "Healing, it doesn't come all at once. I know it feels frustrating, but look at what you've been able to do. Sleep might not come easy all the time, but you've improved so much in all the areas you've been working on, including that one, and I couldn't be prouder of you."

His eyes shone with genuine love and you wanted to burst into tears at the sheer tenderness of it all.

You settled for sniffling instead, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay, but you couldn't hold it in. Throwing your arms around his neck, you sobbed openly into his shoulder, tears darkening his robes. Jae-ha squeezed his eyes shut at the contact, rubbing circles into your back comfortingly until your tears eventually subsided.

He sighed softly, warm breath fanning across your face causing you to blush. The arm he had curled around your midsection tightened. You both laid in silence, Jae-ha listening to the sound of your even breathing, and you watched as his chest rose and fell, counting the seconds that went by until you grew drowsy.

"Sleep, Y/N," Jae-ha murmured, as you began to shift, protesting against the siren's call to go under. "I'm right here."

Slowly, you began to settle. The sides in your mind didn't stop fighting against each other, but you tried to focus on Jae-ha, his calming presence and comforting embrace. Eventually, the war faded in the background enough for you to finally give into the temptation.

You had only been asleep for a few short minutes when Jae-ha turned towards the ceiling curiously. The rapid steps were faint against the wood, but he could still hear them and was able to make out Captain Gi-gan's footfalls first. She was heading to her quarters, but so was everyone else.

His brow furrowed, what would the captain want with her crew this late at night?

Unless....

They found something.

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byler-n-harringrove · 5 years

Text

Broken fingers || Byler Au

I felt so compelled to this amazing prompt - please feel free to send in your own requests because personally I don’t have many ideas atm haha, I need a little help!! I am also a little rusty with my byler writing, so plz bare with me!! Thank you guys so much xx I love you all!!

Prompt: Do you do requests?? Cause I was thinking of a story where Lonnie comes over to the Byers residence in a drunk rage and slams the door on Will’s fingers breaking one of them. So he either goes to Mike’s or Mike comes over and they just cuddle and cry 😭😭😭

Warnings: violence, swearing (bigotry)

______

It had all been a blur in the beginning.

Pain did that, blurred your other 4 senses as your mind became foggy with the shooting of pain through your blood - like some type of rabid disease with no intention of stopping. The pain grasped to Will’s fragile frame, claws digging in with no surrender in sight.

He was sure they were broken, the way the bones sat pointed and tilted outwards in odd directions didn't look normal. But there hadn't been much the teen could do at the time then run away, blinded by haste and poker-hot pain. How Lonnie, his oh so lovely father, had gotten into his family's beloved house was beyond him, and the youngest Byers was lucky enough to walk in - alone - to a rather red faced and staggering man who had a bone to pick.

Will had been trying to close his bedroom door ( it was his natural reaction when anything threatened him - to go into his room and shut the door), but Lonnie had followed him, hitting multiple walls along the way. There was a squabble, and Will really wasn't the strongest of children.

The crunching of his fingers as the door sandwiched the violently made Will want to throw up.

Pain destoryed the next moments - he had cried out, Lonnie has backed off and left him finally, muttering about how his son was a faggot and so - and all Will knew in that moment he needed to run. Run away, get to somewhere safe. But where was that? It was second nature, though, to answer that thought with one name.

Mike’s house.

The frail and pale boy’s heart shook at the idea. He had always felt safe in that cosy basement, curled up diligently beside his one and only crush - Mike Wheeler. It was close to hero worship at this point, he would blindly follow Mike to the end of time if it meant that Mike would give him a smile and let him hold his hand.

The bike ride over was what Will felt hell would feel like - he didn't trust himself to use one hand to ride - and he found himself hoping that Mike even had the smallest amount of knowledge on first aid. The sun had finally made the hill its grave, the crappy pee yellow street lights on the main roads the only guide he had.

He had to push through - to get to Mike, to feel safe, to feel loved.

The milenia it took to get to Mike’s house finally reached its end as he flung his bike to the ground unforgivingly in his pained haste. The noise of the bike meeting the grass made him cringe, but the reminder of his broken fingers only brought more pain.

He didn't know where his face began and his tears started as he knocked erratically on the Wheeler’s front door. Will didn't have to wait long, luckily, before the eccentric wooden door was heaved open by a familiar mop of dark brunette hair - those beautiful caramel eyes instantly made Will want to crumple in his arms and sob.

And that's what he did.

“Hey Will- Ahh! What's wrong!?” the spangly teenager squeaked awkwardly as Will flung himself into his arms with blatant disregard.

“Who's at the door Mike!?” “It's just Will! We’re going downstairs, don't bother us!” Mike didn't know what was wrong, but seeing Will cry so freely made his stomach drop and his heart stutter with fear.

What the fuck had happened?

Will sniffled and whimpered as they descended the stairs into their lair, the basement. Wills second home - besides castle Byers, but that was different - was already starting to have an effect on his nerves. Lonnie wasn't here, he wasn't going to get to him and sure as hell wasn't going to be breaking anymore of his ‘girly’ fingers.

“Are you going to tell my whats wrong?’ Mike asked, doing his best to sound sympathetic - of course he was, but the anxiety of not knowing things often made him sound snappy and impatient.

The smaller teen was unable to meet Mike’s eyes now, and wordlessly extended his hand that had been cradled to his chest. The fingers were distorted awkwardly - Will didn't want to look at them again or he felt like he was actually going to throw up or pass out. They were his fingers - his father had done this to him. His. Father.

“S-Shit!” Mike cursed loudly, eyes wide.

Without another word, he quickly darted off to the small toilet off the basement. He ripped the rickedy medicine cabinet open and quickly grabbed the first aid kit they used for emergencies. Fuck - this was more then a emergency. This was Will, his Will.

When he returned, Mike quickly guided the other teen towards their sofa. Will’s cheeks were red and blotchy, eyes slightly swollen as he sniffled and whined at the pain of his fingers. The taller teen broke out the bandages and something to make some splints from (his parents had forced him to take a first aid course - not that he would tell anyone that) and hesitantly inspected the 3 fingers.

“Who did this?” Mikes voice almost struck fear in Will.

“U-umm… L-lonnie..” He was too tired to be berraded by Mike until he finally told him - it was easier to give up now.

The next 10 minutes were in silent besides the quiet cries of Mike moving his bones to try and set them ( yes, he wasn't a doctor - but Will repeatedly told him they couldn't go. There were already too many issues surrounding his family as it was) and Mike muttering soft praises and encouragements to keep him conscious and as calm as possible.

“Here - this'll help the pain” Mike had fetched some water from upstairs - no mum, we don't need any food. yes mum, he's fine - and offered Will (who had finally stopped crying) some panadol to help.

Will sniffled again, taking the water and panadol before muttering a soft thank-you as Mike sat down beside him. The couch was warm - their bodies sat close together as Will was finally starting to calm down from the rush of emotions and adrenaline that ran through is small body. It was too much, and it had honestly tired him out.

“Your staying tonight, by the way. Before you say anything, my mum says its fine and she’ll call your mum. We can watch movies - your choice of course” Mike all but ordered his friend, standing again without a moment's notice to get some of the spare blankets and pillows from the corner of the room.

The smallest teen could only muster a nod - muttering something about the 2nd Star Wars movie - and found himself curling his knees into his chest. Will just wanted, no he need, some hugs. He needed to be held - loved, smothered until he was no longer the touch starved teen he was now.

Mike - who Will was sure was his guardian angel - finally settle back down on the couch and layered the cozy blankets around them along with some comfy pillows. It was like a mother making a nest for its young - and Will seemed all but oblivious to Mike’s reddening cheeks as he slipped into the warmth besides him, their sides touching with soft zaps of passionate electricity.

“C-can…” Wil stuttered, capturing Mike's undivided attention “Can we hug?” If Will could get and redder they would never know, but the question honestly made him want the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

It was silent for a moment before Mike stuttered out a small “Y-yea,” before wrapping his spindily limbs arounder Wills slightly shaking frame and holding him close.

Will was in euphoria.

As the movie started, Will felt the panadol slowly starting to kick in - seeping into his bloodstream and numbing the throbbing pain within his fingers. The small teen slowly found himself leaning his head on Mike’s shoulder, eyes drooping as he focused on Mike’s radiating warmth and the small circles he rubbed on Will’s upper arm.

“I won't let anyone ever hurt you again, Will. Never” Mike promised Will with sheer determination in his voice as the youngest finally slipped off into sleep - finally feeling safe and secure wrapped in blankets, in the arms of the person he loved most.

#byeler #byers #byler fanfic #byler fanfiction #byler fic #mike wheeler #stranger things #stranger things fandom #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #will byers #mike x will fanfic #will x mike fanfic #will byers x mike wheeler #mike wheeler x will byers

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toartemis · 5 years

Text

My Cherries and Wine

Part 3 of The Moon’s Serenades series. You can read on Ao3.

Summary: Cardan and Jude haven't had the time to be alone with each other in a while. They decide to play a game.

Word Count: 4794

Warnings: Oral sex, rough sex, dom/sub undertones, top!Jude, bottom!Cardan, degradation kink if you squint, biting.

Preview: The fabric bunches up around her waist and he scrapes his nails up her inner thigh. Her hand shoots down to grab his wrist and she doesn't know whether it's to push him away or pull him further towards her. She doesn’t do either, yet. Cardan watches her hesitate beneath him, and he links their free hands together, lacing their fingers.

He waits for her signal. It only takes Jude a small moment to gather herself and nod.

---------

Dawn passes outside the windows of the palace’s Council room. Jude, in a facetious manner, has designated said windows as her favorites for when she needs to space out during boring meetings. There is something about them that she likes. They have some extra flare or sparkle that suit her fancy compared to others in the room. Or, maybe, she just started to imagine they do because the repetitive arguments she has to listen to have started driving her insane over the last months.

So far, the day went exactly how she expected: Wake up, meet with the Bomb, sign papers, sit in the throne room (and hear what complaints the Folk have about her), spar as a way to release frustration, then attend this meeting with Cardan and have the rest of the night to herself.

Of course, Council meetings never turn out to be simple, and she's been here for eons it seems. Her free time disappeared out those favorite windows, along with Jude’s attention, around hour four.

She could tell when she walked in that this meeting would be longer than originally expected, even more so than usual. Cardan was already there, lazing in his designated, beautifully carved chair, at one end of the long, engraved table. He had his chin resting on his fist and his eyes were already glazed over. She sighed as she accepted her dull fate for the night.

Jude locked eyes with her husband when she sat down in her equally extravagant seat at the opposite end of the table. His gaze said please put me out of my misery. She raised a brow as a response, and the meeting began.

Orlagh was discussed, along with Madoc, who promptly had any and all titles and privileges removed after Jude’s ascension to the crown and was being kept on close watch, along with any creature who might be keeping contact with him. Jude listened intently to these topics, but began to zone out at the mention of more mundane things. Honestly, she never would have imagined that she would let herself be idle in any part of her job as the High Queen, but talks of the woods and colors of the land get monotonous quickly. Eventually, the subject changes again to the most controversial issue of the last six months.

The Folk and their lasting resentment towards Jude.

Really, over the short amount of time since she was crowned Queen, many of the fae have taken a liking to her. Much more and much sooner than she thought they would. The land has flourished and ancient beings have long settled with her new status, but there are still the stubborn creatures that despise her and threaten her life.

Jude pretends she is confident in how safe she feels, but she knows she could be assassinated at any moment if they don't keep up with the constant precautions they've been taking, like the personal band of knights she has flanking her almost every waking moment. Even the enchanted clothing she wears that alerts her of potential ill intent any fae may have towards her when they get close enough doesn’t soothe the nerves. These meetings always focus on new measures that might be taken to ensure her and Cardan's safety and how to possibly quell the rage and unrest of their enemies. It's more of the same at this point.

Jude has always been more involved with the meetings than Cardan, but damn it all if they don't bore her as much as they do her husband. She's dished out as many ideas as the rest of the Council, but they're running dry at this point. It’s been so figuratively beaten to death that she can almost genuinely smell the blood.

The underlying conclusion she's made is that it'll just take time.

So she sits and listens for the first few hours of this, then she lets herself space out again.

She adjusts her circlet, watches the sky, and feels the thrumming of the land as they drone on, her thoughts running about.

Making sure everything not only runs, but runs smoothly, is much harder than it seems.

Jude is good at juggling responsibilities and coming up with barely-successful plans, but running a kingdom correctly is like trying to stack jagged stones together a mile high without them falling over.

Even so, that being coupled with the threats thrown her way every day, she would be lying if she said she hasn't been enjoying her life as of late. The only thing she can't really stand is the fact that she sees Cardan much, much less than she expected she would.

Sure, they rule together, and often see each other before bed, but they most often have different focuses in their duties, so they are not together much more than they are.

She hates it.

Once Jude figured out that they both simply enjoy each other's company, whether it be just having a conversation or reading near each other, she began missing him terribly every second they weren't together. It was frightening to be so attached to someone.

She knows so much more about him now. And he knows all about her. The thought that she has someone she can share herself with as they learn to live and heal together thrills her.

Even now, she smiles at the thought.

Jude steals a glance at her husband across the table and finds him watching her. Cardan has a glint in his eyes that she doesn't quite recognize, which is disconcerting to her, and his mouth quirks up just a bit as she watches him.

She feels butterflies in her stomach, and the next breath she takes hitches in her chest.

When was the last time we even…?

Too long, apparently. Jude's thoughts immediately turn to some of their previous escapades. It's hard for them not to.

Jude and Cardan had weeks of lively, fresh joy where they had ample time to explore each other. But then they got busier, and their time together quickly shifted to barely getting their hands on each other whenever possible. Now they're both so tired after long nights that the farthest they ever get is falling into bed, and occasionally into each other's arms, before sleep takes over.

Jude decides at this moment that she refuses to be tired today. Cardan, it seems, is on the same page.

"Are we done prolonging things, or shall we keep going and eventually arrive at the same conclusion as always: that there's nothing we can do right now," his voice cuts through whatever conversation was happening. The Council members either look annoyed or insulted. One of them speaks.

"If... the High King wishes to meet again another time—"

"He does," Cardan says, and he stands abruptly, chair scraping across the floor. Jude stands with him, but with better concealed bravado.

The rest of the Council follows looking exasperated. Jude decides to simply leave without looking behind her. Cardan is right on her heels.

Her heart is pounding, a smile tugging at her lips. They only make it a few corridors and turns away from the Council room before Jude spins to face him. He's mere inches from her, breathing heavily.

They really are on the same page, now.

But Jude doesn't want this to go the way some of their other trysts have: quick and dirty, so good but over too soon.

No, she wants to prolong this.

So she leans into him, threads her hands through the hair at the nape of his neck and says, "I want to play a game."

Immediately, want flashes in Cardan's eyes.

"Oh?" He says, head tilting to the side. "What did you have in mind?"

Jude tightens her hands in his hair and pulls his mouth to hers. The kiss is rushed, all teeth and sharp exhales, a startling promise. When she pulls away, his lips chase hers, and something hot and dark spreads through her chest at the sight of him. His eyes shut, his mouth open, and she kisses him again.

Jude prides herself on many things. Lately, one of those is that she’s gotten much better at thieving, and she’s come to know that sly hands are very useful in all types of situations. In this moment, they work better than ever. She’s leaning towards his ear, mouth nipping along his jaw. Her hand is at the crown on his head and she slips it off without him even noticing.

With a smirk and one last kiss below his ear, she whispers, "Catch me."

And she bolts.

It takes Cardan a few moments, then Jude hears him chuckle from somewhere far behind her. She barely glances back as she rounds the corner into another hall, but she sees he hasn't moved.

Giving me a bit of a head start, then.

Jude rips off her own crown, dislodging some of her hair from its braid, and runs faster, turning another corner, her leather slipper clad feet slapping against the floor.

She really picked a horrible day to wear a dress. It’s a sheer, flowy one at that, pale green with stupid poofy sleeves and tiny embroidered flowers. But no matter, she works with what she's got.

She gathers the front of her dress in one hand, both crowns in the other, and sprints into a room that leads into a stairwell. In there, she feels something in the air shift, and stops for a second.

She knows Cardan must have started after her by now. She set no time limit, and he seemed impatient back there. Jude feels giddy, and takes a moment to be glad that the faeries living in the palace should be asleep soon. It means less obstacles to watch out for. She ascends the stairs and slips into a library there. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she the Roach told her there was a secret passageway in this room, but she has no clue where, so she starts feeling around the walls and bookcases for anything strange. Jude finds the hidden latch by one of the smaller shelves in the back of the room surprisingly easily. What she learned during her time with the Court of Shadows stays with her.

As she steps into the tunnel, Jude thinks of Cardan catching her in here.

Exhilarating panic shoots through her chest and desire pools deep in her. Jude almost regrets not giving him any instructions. Anything she said he would have followed with no thoughts of cheating. She could have given herself an advantage in this little game, but she didn’t. She loves a challenge, especially one where the odds are against her. And they definitely are right now.

Cardan is a creature of the night; a boy who blends with shadows, and though there is daylight shining through the sparse windows of the palace, there are more dark spaces than bright for him to creep through.

It is impossible for her to outrun him. But she will try to out maneuver him. All at once, this game becomes real, and she desperately wants to win.

She makes her was through the tunnel as quickly as she feels comfortable, and pushes the door open on the other side. When she closes it behind her, she realizes she's in the opposite side of the palace, and she grins. Bless those secret passageways.

Jude doesn't linger. She runs out of the room she's in and almost smacks into a royal guard in the hall.

"Your Grace—" the fae says to her, but she's already darting away, dress whipping out behind her. Another staircase comes into view in one of the Northern entrance halls, but it's grand and exposed. She has the option to continue to the corridor on the other side of the room or take her chances with the stairs.

She chooses the latter.

Her footsteps echo in the empty room, one that isn't used much company because it's a part of the palace that’s bare except for some hidden gardens, which she thinks would be too obvious for her to head towards, so, stairs it is. She's nearing the top when she feels a prickling on the back of her neck and her heart stops as well as her feet. Her chest heaves from the excitement. There’s sweat on her brow and her skin feels a little too tight. Her hand twitches around the crowns in her grasp. She steels herself before glancing back over her shoulder.

Sure enough, Cardan stands at the base of the stairs, a smirk planted on his face.

She moves again before she's even thinking, increasing her speed, heart beating out of her ribs.

She should have heard him coming, but she knows he can erase all sounds of his movements if he wants to.

Creature of the night.

She barrels through a door to her left and finds herself in a pair of empty apartments. Skirting around a chair in her way, she runs through to the other room and freezes.

It's just a study. There's no other way out this way as she had hoped. She turns around and confirms what she already knows: she's trapped herself. One way in, one way out.

And that's when Cardan appears out of thin air, silent as a cat, in the doorway she just ran through across the room. Intoxicating delight spikes through her blood, and her mind is screaming runrunrunrun—

So she does, and a terrified giggle escapes her without her permission. She leaps over a low stool and scrambles behind a desk at the far end of the room, breath coming in shallow bursts, before she whips around to face the study door, her back to the wall.

Her hair has come loose from its braid, her skin is tingling all over and her stomach drops when she sees Cardan standing in the middle of the room.

He has triumph in his eyes along with something else that's deep and predatory.

Jude swallows.

Her only way out is if he comes for her and she somehow makes it around him.

Again, she curses her dress. She'd have a much better chance if she was wearing trousers like he is.

Neither of them move. Jude's heart is in her throat.

Come on, come on, come on—

Still, he doesn't budge, just looks at her like he's a wolf salivating over a kill.

A jittery feeling takes over her limbs. She feels a pang of fear, which she knows is ridiculous, but she can't help it.

Honestly, Cardan can be terrifying. She used to not let herself forget that.

The toe of his boot moves forward an inch and Jude flinches. Cardan laughs. He's messing with her. She feels a spike of anger.

He does it again, inches his foot forward, and that’s all it takes for Jude to sprint to her right and for Cardan to move after her. She knocks over a table and chair to put obstacles between them before running as hard as she can into the other room and towards her chance to escape, but she barely makes in ten feet before she feels arms suddenly squeezing around her like a snake.

Jude shouts, the sound a strange mixture of shock and excitement, and tries pushing at his arms.

No luck there.

He swings her around and carries her back into the room of their miniscule showdown, all the while she scrambles to get free.

He drops her in front of one of the bookshelves, and she barely has time to regain her footing before he's got her pressed up against it, books digging into her back, his body trapping hers. She releases her hold on their crowns, lets them clatter on the floor, and tries wriggling away from him, but goes still when his teeth are suddenly at her neck.

Her pulse is beating wildly, anticipation too high, and he drags his teeth to her ear.

"Caught you," he whispers, then withdraws to look her in the eyes. "Do make it harder for me next time."

Jude scoffs. The smile he gives her is wicked.

She jerks her chin at him.

"You assume this will happen again?"

He looks at her lips.

"I know it will."

"Asshole," she says with an eye roll.

"What an inappropriate word for a queen to say."

"Oh, fuck you, Cardan."

"Yes, please," He responds and rolls his hips into hers. Jude gasps.

He is so annoying. So incredibly insufferable and irritating and beautiful and she loves him so much.

She closes that last bit of distance between them with a searing kiss. He pushes her back against the bookcase even harder and she bites his bottom lip in retaliation. She tries to get her hands on him, but it's hard with their proximity and the way he's caging her in, so she attempts tugging at his shirt where it's tucked into his trousers, but it doesn't work either.

Cardan grinds his hips again, then pulls away just enough to sneak a hand between them to yank her skirts up. Jude's breath stutters from her chest.

The fabric bunches up around her waist and he scrapes his nails up her inner thigh. Her hand shoots down to grab his wrist and she doesn't know whether it's to push him away or pull him further towards her. She doesn’t do either, yet. Cardan watches her hesitate beneath him, and he links their free hands together, lacing their fingers. He waits for her signal.

It only takes Jude a small moment to gather herself and nod.

Cardan goes straight for her underwear, moving the fabric aside to run his fingers over her as he attaches his mouth to her neck again.

Jude throws her head back at the sudden contact. Cardan nips at her skin in response.

He drags his fingers slowly through her folds and says, "Look at you, you're so wet for me."

Jude doesn't know if she hates or loves it when he talks like this. She says nothing back.

He mouths at her jaw. "You liked me chasing you."

To this, she huffs.

Without warning, he pushes two fingers into her. A small, choked noise escapes her at the feeling.

"You wanted me to catch you, didn't you?" His thumb moves over her clit as he works his fingers in and out.

"Shut up," she mumbles. He pulls back to look at her.

"Make me, Jude," he curls his fingers, and sparks fly behind her eyes.

Annoying.

Jude rises to his challenge immediately and tugs his hand from her center, her fist tight around his wrist. Cardan raises an eyebrow as she brings it to her face.

When she licks long and slow over the fingers he just had inside her, it seems like all the breath rushes out of him. His stares at her lips as she takes both of them in her mouth and sucks languidly, tongue flicking in between and swirling around.

Yeah, that shut him right up.

His eyelids grow heavy, lashes grazing his cheeks, and his mouth parts at her ministrations.

He's so easy.

Jude takes advantage of his distraction to unlink their hands, pull her mouth away, and shove him hard.

He stumbles backward a few paces and continues to retreat as Jude advances. She corners him right into the desk she hid behind earlier and can't help but smile.

Now it's her turn.

His mouth clamps shut when she reaches for his trousers and starts undoing buttons and laces. She pulls his shirt loose and unceremoniously shoves her hand down his pants to wrap around his cock.

Cardan gasps and puts his hands behind him on the desk for purchase.

She loves him like this. As soon as she touches him, it’s like a weight lifts from his shoulders, and suddenly he's soft dough in her palms; malleable and delicious. They both prefer it when she's in charge.

"Come on, Cardan, hard already?" She says as she fully pulls him from his pants. He closes his eyes and doesn't answer. Jude sinks to her knees.

"Don't pretend you didn't enjoy our game just as much as I did," and with that she licks from the base of his cock all the way to the tip. One of Cardan's hands immediately threads in her hair as he takes a steadying breath. Jude continues teasing him with her tongue, all the while his thighs are steel beneath her palms.

Jude's waiting for him to beg. She can’t always get him to, but this time they’re both riled up.

So she keeps her pace. Slowly, Cardan's jaw unlocks and his mouth falls open, and eventually his eyes lock with hers, then her mouth. His breathing is erratic as she places open-mouthed kisses on him from tip to base, and runs her fingers lightly over him in the wetness she leaves behind.

Finally, she hears what she’s been waiting for.

Cardan chokes on a noise that sounds like a whine, then says, "Jude," and it's heavy, breathless. "Jude, please."

And Jude complies. Her lips wrap around his cock and she sinks onto him, one hand wrapping around what she can't reach.

She's knows, deep down, she’s not the best at this, but she's had time to practice and learn what he likes. She loves watching him get worked up because of her. So, despite lacking some skills, she is incredibly enthusiastic in this act.

She takes him in as far as she dares and twists her hand as she goes, then sucks lightly as she withdraws, and repeats. She pauses at some points just to see his reaction and give herself a break, and Cardan looks increasingly desperate every time. She does this again now and his cock jumps. A shaky breath leaves him and his hips jerk toward her.

Jude's confidence boosts at this, and she feels entirely smug at his reactions. She revels in this power over him.

Her mouth is moving again, sinking lower than she has yet to go, and Cardan makes a sound like he got all the air knocked out of him. Jude hums around him, taunting and teasing. On her way back up for air, she makes sure to drag her tongue along the bottom of him and press her thumb into the junction of his thigh just the way he likes, and sure enough, Cardan moans brokenly, and his chest curls over her, head hanging low, hands in her hair pulling himself deeper into her mouth.

He's close.

As soon as the realization comes to her, she pulls off of him completely and stands. His hands fall from her hair and grip the desk again, hard enough that she's sure the wood will certainly snap, but it doesn't. Jude trails a hand from his navel to his chest, muscles jumping underneath her touch, and grips his jaw tightly between her fingers. It takes him a moment to come back to himself long enough to look at her, his eyes thoroughly glazed over.

Jude leans up, mouth close to his.

"Fuck me," she commands.

Cardan puts his unnerving speed to good use, then.

He grips Jude at her hips and lifts. Within seconds, he has her on the desk, his shirt and pants all off, and he's kissing her breathlessly.

Jude is seriously impressed, and so turned on that she aches.

Cardan doesn’t bother with removing her clothes, he just tears her underwear in half, throws the pieces on the floor, and hikes her dress up. She leans back on her elbows.

Jude's throbbing in anticipation and is more aroused than she can remember ever being. It's been much too long since they've had time alone together; time to do this.

Before she can tell him again, Cardan pulls her hips to the edge of the desk and pushes into her in in one stroke, completely to the hilt. They both groan at the feeling. There’s something about that first connection that drives Jude insane every time, like she’s being lit on fire from the inside out and she needs him to keep going, going, going—

Yesyesyesyes—

Cardan pulls back and thrusts forward carefully, then begins a fast pace that has her toes curling in seconds. Her nails scratch at the wood of the desk. He feels good, so good, so good. She keeps looking from their joined bodies, where his cock disappears into her over and over, to his face, where he watches only her, brow furrowed, lips glistening.

He's waiting for something. Waiting for her to speak, or move, or—

He gives a particularly hard thrust and she moans, mouth hanging open. She catches his eyelids fluttering at her reaction.

Ah, she knows what he wants.

"Come on, Cardan," she pants. "Harder."

His next breath catches in his throat and he increases his pace. Jude locks her ankles around his waist and pushes herself up to lean on her hands. She knows she must look as wrecked as he does, but she doesn't give a damn. Cardan's hands splay on the desk near hers, their faces close.

"You can do better than that," she says into his mouth as she brings a hand up to tug on the jewelry in his ears, her calves squeezing his slender hips.

Cardan moans, and she can see his tail flick behind him. He puts both his hands on her hips as an anchor and begins really fucking her.

Jude loses herself in white-hot pleasure for a moment. The hand she had on his ears grips the back of his neck, her eyes squeeze shut. She throws her head back, broken moans escaping her.

But she gathers herself and leans up again putting her mouth to his neck. Jude rakes her nails down his chest and she can't tell if the sound he makes is one of pain or pleasure.

"Harder," she demands against his skin.

Cardan groans above her, his grip on her is hard enough to bruise. His tail winds around his own arm restlessly, then around one of her ankles, slipping across her skin. He lifts her hips now and tugs her to him with each thrust.

Jude's mouth falls open but no sound comes out. She can't catch her breath and all she can focus on is the feel of skin slapping on skin and the sounds Cardan is making and she's so overwhelmed that she really, accidentally, bites into his neck.

Cardan just whines.

Jude's arm behind her loses balance on the desk and she collapses onto it, the small of her back right on the edge, and Cardan comes down with her, back bent over her body.

This is absolutely feral, what they're doing, and Jude loves every bit of it. She's vaguely aware of him bleeding and what that might do to her mouth but she doesn't care, all she can focus on is how their chests touch and his cheeks are flushed and his lips are swollen and the way her hips feel like they'll crack under his grip and the building pressure in her belly. She reaches to grab onto Cardan's forearm as a way to ground herself but she doesn't get to come back to reality because as soon as her hand closes around his arm, his brows screw up and he's moving his shaking hand down to where their bodies meet and he’s swiping his thumb over her clit and she's gone.

She's pretty sure she screams.

And it takes Cardan all of three more strokes before his face is buried in her neck, his voice stuttering over something like a sob as he follows her over the edge.

They stay like that, intertwined, spasms wracking their bodies, all the while Jude runs her hands soothingly over Cardan's skin and through his hair.

They've barely been recovering for even a minute before Cardan shatters the glow.

"Thought I was—" his chest heaves against hers, "—going to die—in that meeting."

It catches her off guard. Jude laughs so hard and suddenly that she wheezes.

Cardan laughs too.

He's still catching his breath when he untangles himself from her and lifts her to her feet with him. Jude winces. She's already sore.

"We should cut our meetings short more often, don't you think?" Jude says while tracing a finger over his jaw. He leans into her touch.

"Mmm. Maybe next time you'll give me a challenge,” he says, voice sickly sweet with a cocky smile on his face.

Jude rolls her eyes and tries her hardest not to beam right back at him. It doesn't work.

So, so annoying.

She loves him more than anything.

---------

Cardan is a bottom and you can’t convince me otherwise.

Thank you for reading! It took me a while to get to this because school started up for me and I have professors giving me hard ass critiques all day every day, so I’ve been a little discouraged lately. Hope you enjoyed!

#jurdan #jurdan fanfiction #judecardan #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #the cruel prince fanfiction #tcp #twk #qon #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota #tfota fanfiction #my work #my writing

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luminary-gremlin · 4 years

Text

Silver vs Wilford (Poly vs Poly) [Finale]

Tagging: @wilford-lee-warfstache @yandere-ipli-ler @thehostofleetrature

@darkipli-ler @magnumtickles

“Alright, and…begin!”

Yan cheered out, thus starting the final fight. Both Silver and Wilford stood on their side of the matt, yet both hesitated to move, eyeing each other. You see, when you’re the main lee in your poly it can be really easy to become…lee.

“Aye, why aren’t they movin’? Or tickling each other?”

Magnum looked over to Dark, who stroked his chin with a smirk. Now he understood why this fight was so complicated. Not only was it just as equal for the hero or his boyfriend to win, but it was equivalent on whether they would be lee or ler. He let out a fond chuckle.

“Who said that they were going to tickle each other?”

Host inquired, sipping his hot cocoa beside Yandere. His statement made everyone turn their heads, including the two fighters who were blushing at being called out.

“W-well it’s not MY fault that Darky had to be so teasy with Host and I got jealous cause I wanted to be teased like that!”

Wilford huffed, turning his back with a huff and turning his nose up.

“Y-yeah! And when Yan took down Magnum and made him s-so helpless, I-i-i-it made me want to be helpless too…”

The hero mumbled, playing with his fingers shyly as he looked over to his group innocently.

“So, why didn’t either of you speak up?”

Yan tilted her head in confusion. Both Silver and Wilford looked at each other and bowed their heads in embarrassment.

“W-we thought that if either of us said we were lee it would disqualify us a-and we really wanted to be a part of this competition with you guys cause it sounded so fun…”

Silver rubbed his arm shyly as Wilford nodded in agreement. Dark and Yan shared a look and nodded, knowing exactly how to resolve this. The latter then walked over to their respected lee and held their hands.

“I think I may have an idea to help resolve your moods and still be a part of this competition~”

Wilford’s eyes lit up at Dark’s purr before he was pinned down with his arms over his head, and even giggled as Silver received the same treatment. They both lied side by side with enough space for Host to sit in between them to sense their vitals and to pin down their legs to hinder them from escaping while holding a stopwatch. Magnum joined by lying on top of both their arms above their heads, which in returned allowed Dark and Yan to have both hands free for tickling their lees.

“The rules are simple. Each ler will be required to tickle both lees’ top 3 spots without holding back for fair play. Each lee will endure a round of 3 minutes on their 3rd place spot, and 5 minutes on their 2nd place spot if neither have caved in. If once again neither have called mercy or their safe word, then both of their #1 ticklish spots will be tickled indefinitely until mercy is called.”

The Host announced to both groups, grinning as seeing the lees squirm happily.

“But Hostie, how do we know what spots would be equal to their others. I mean I’m sure Silvy’s underarms are the same as Wilford’s.”

“Hmm…perhaps that is true, I have an idea, ahem… ‘Both of Silver’s and Wilford’s top 3 spots were marked with a Sharpie to keep things equal.’”

Just then both Silver and Wilford squealed and squirmed about, feeling their top three spots being drawn on before the markers disappeared in thin air.

Yan grinned as she lifted up Silver’s shirt to already find his number 1 spot, resisting the urge to poke her shy as heck blushy hero, currently hiding his face in his bicep. She spun around and rolled his shorts up just a tad to find two number 3’s drawn on each inner thigh.

“Remember, no holding back Silvy, there won’t be a miss nice girl~! Especially after you act so cute being so lee and being so tempting all day with your cuteness! Right Dark?”

“Oh of course, did you really think I was gonna let go that because you rubbed your cologne on me that it gave me away to Host, Will~?”

Dark purred, moving Wilf’s hair out of the way to find a 3 on the backs of his ears.

“3, 2, 1. Begin!”

Host announced and started the stopwatch. Yan wasted no time tracing silver’s thighs with her nails, tracing to his knee and back up to his upper thigh, grinning when the hero began to squeal and cackle, twisting and kicking his legs to try and free himself.

“Aw, my little wiggle worm is dancing with joy isn’t he~?”

“GYEEHHEHEHE IHIhihihiHIHIHihiHIH CAahahahHAHAHAN’T HEEHEHEehehheehHEHEHLP IHIHIHIHIT!”

Wilford, when hearing Silver squeal and watching him squirm made him squirm at the very thought until he felt Dark’s fingers caress the shell of his ears. He cackled and belly laughed, tilting his head to try and escape the tickly fingers but Dark kept up with him just fine.

“Oh don’t think I’ve forgotten about how much you love my attention dearest~”

Dark purred next to his ear with a teasy coo as he traced his fingers all over his delicate ears. No part of Wilford’s ears were untouched from Dark. The shells, the lobes, the tips of his ears fell under Dark’s mercy.

“Bwahahhah! DAhahahHAhAHAHRKY! THIHIHHIHIS IHHIHIihihihihIHIHIS SOHOHOHOHO EHEHHEMBARRASSING!”

“Oh, but isn’t that what you wanted? To be flustered and embarrassed from yours truly?”

Welp, he got Wilford there. Meanwhile back to the other poly, Yan went to town on Silver’s inner thighs with no mercy whatsoever, despite his adorable exclamations, they only seemed to fuel her to tickle him more!

“BAHAHAHHAHABE! IHHIIHIHihiHIHIhiHIT TIHIihihihiHIHIHIHICKLES!”

Yan smirked as she added gentle pinches to his inner thighs, making him snort at each one.

“That’s the point senpai! Aw listen to those snorts! I could listen to them forever! Lets see, 1, 2, 3, 4…”

“And time! Halt your tickles!”

Host announced. Both lers stopped immediately and were left with two very giggly sweet boys. Magnum ran his hands through both of their hair fondly to reveal their adorable red faces. Yan cupped Silvy’s face and kissed him sweetly while Dark stroked Wilf’s cheeks fondly to help cool them down.

During their break they were given water and a small, healthy snack to bring their energy back. Yan would play with Silver’s snack like an airplane and fed it to him, while Dark struggled to not tickle Wilf to get him to open his mouth because ew healthy foods.

Soon enough it was time for the second round, both parties began to set up before Yan noticed reluctance on Silver’s face.

“Is something wrong dear?”

Silver looked up at her with big puppy dog eyes before whispering.

“A-actually could we skip the second round? I really wanna cuddle after all of this is over.”

“Do you still wanna be tickled dearest? If not you can just say so, no one is going to be upset.”

Silver buried his face in his arm with a small blush and a wiggle, signaling a yes to her question.

“A-actually I’m in agreement with the dear boy. Darky I wanna be like how Hostie was! And get snuggles from my boys!”

Dark smirked fondly and patted his head.

“So be it, besides, I’ve been dying to get to your number 1 spot lately.”

And so it was agreed. Dark turned around with his back facing Wilford and rested his hands on his thighs, already making him hitch his breath. Silver meanwhile couldn’t help but gasp and squirm when Yan placed a finger just under his button.

“Ready, set, go!”

Just after Host’s exclamation, the room echoed with shrill screams of laughter. Dark wasted no time digging into Wilford’s thighs, using his nails to scratch his bare skin highlighted from his shorts. Yan used her fingertip over Silver’s nub of a bellybutton fondly, rubbing it gently since it didn’t take much to drive him off the rails.

Suffice to say, everyone knew this round wasn’t going to last long, especially for our lees. Just seeing their lers touch their spots already made them squirm. Despite Silver’s incredible stamina, he couldn’t take his button tickled like this for too long unless it was a gentle little feather that could break him in the best way and last quite a while. For him it wasn’t just his button being tickled, but it would radiate through his whole body, making it quiver as he arched and thrashed. Although arching his back only made it tickle be-worse!

Wilford; however, was going mad from the sheer amount of hysteria overflowing through him. Dark’s deep massages into his thighs lit up his nerves all the way down his legs. You know when you hit your elbow just right and then your whole arm feels that way? That was exactly what Wilford was experiencing but in both of his legs.

“D-DOHOOHOHOHOHOHOVE! CHEHEHHEHHERRIES!”

They shrieked at the exact same time before dissolving into silent laughter. At hearing the words everyone immediately stopped everything. Host snapped his fingers to get everyone off them as the hero and the interviewer curled up tightly, with tears of mirth rolling down their cheeks

Host immediately crawled over to Silver the same time Magnum did for Wilf, both pulling them into their chest lovingly as both lees were curled up. Yan fetched Silver some water as Dark crawled over and stroked his cheeks.

“Hey, hey. You were amazing Will. Don’t you forget that. You lasted so long. Did I push anything? Was I too rough?”

Wilford looked up to Dark with hazelnut eyes and hugged him tiredly. He was so happy to have people so loving and encouraging.

“Yohohohhu w-wehehehre perfect dear.”

Yan hurried over and fed Silver some water as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“Oh dearest, you were so tough. I hope I didn’t push you too far. I’m so proud of you for knowing your limits! Host and I are so proud of you!”

Silver looked up at his lovelies and melted under her touch, gulping water down. He gave her a thumbs up to reassure he was okay. He felt incredibly lucky to have people so aware of him and loving and proud no matter what.

Host and Magnum had pulled them into their big coats so they were surrounded by love.

“W-well…I guess it was a tie then?”

Wilf was the first to speak up. The rest then all looked up at each other.

“Oh does it really matter who won? The more important part is we all had good fun.”

Dark hummed while he kissed his cheeks. Then Magnum carried his boys over to the Sweets poly and sat so they were all one big cuddled fest. Everyone snuggled in. Wilf to Magnum, Dark to Wilf, Host to Magnum, Silver to Host, and Yan to Silver and Magnum.

“…You know…I wouldn’t mind having a rematch, just to test Host’s theory that is.”

Yan whispered softly, getting everyone to chuckle.

“Mmm, perhaps. But first, I think we all need a well-deserved nap, and some smoothies.”

Dark hummed and everyone nodded before they all closed their eyes, snuggled up to each other and surrounding their love.

Sweets: 2 | Sundaes: 2

#wilford #silver #silver shepherd #tickle #tickle fic #finale #masterpost

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seraphicwiing · 4 years

Text

The SOLDIER and the Actress- A Quiet Morning Together <3

It was the early hours of the morning, the gentle luminosity of the sun just peering through the tiny chink between the dark curtains that hung so elegantly before the large windows. Sephiroth’s silver locks were tied back into an adorable bun, a gift provided to him the night before by none other than the actress who had victoriously won over his steel-hardened heart. She wasn’t feeling all that well, a smalll spout of the common cold. An occurence that never happened to him, but always to those close to him. Perhaps it was his complex DNA that made it so.

He had decided to invite her over, wanting to keep an eye on her and make sure that she was safe, secure in his temple. It always made him a little sad to see her with the sniffles but he would always try his best to alleviate her discomfort. There she slept upon his bed, his tall form perched quietly at the foot. A deft and clement hand raised upwards slightly, brushing away the stray chocolate locks away from her face and behind her ear.

“Well... At least you’re sleeping soundly...” Spoke the General under his breath, the warmest of smiles sneaking its way onto his face. No matter what happened, it was always her that brought this primal emotion out of him. A true soul mate, one that he was lucky to meet per a chance encounter at that military parade oh so long ago...

Perhaps it was fate that brought them together? No, that superstitious nonsense was always so cheesy. An overused cliché in all of those goofy romance movies the two would watch from time to time. It got a benign but firm chuckle out of him as he rose from the warm perch of the bedside. His home was large, but everything was all on one floor luckily. His single bedroom was connected to the large open kitchen and living area. Many a romantic meal and sensual moments of affection happened here, all gentle memories that the SOLDIER would cherish forever.

He came to the marble counter where the glimmering and clean metal sink was located and proceeded to fill up the kettle to just the right amount for two cups. He placed it onto its pedestal and flicked the plastic switch that would allow it to boil. From one of the cupboards above his head, all easy to reach thanks to his sheer height, he took the tub of hot chocolate that they both adored so much and filled their cups with it. Four heaped teaspoons, and for Jessie, just a little bit of extra sugar. She always had a sweeter tooth than he did.

Once the kettle had finished boiling, he poured the still steaming water into the two cups and stirred. He was always a simpler man, preferring to leave out the cream and marshmallows. But for Jessie, he spared no expense. Maybe in another life, he could’ve passed off as a culinary genius. He meticulously assembled Jessie’s cup with the goods; whipped cream, marshmallows and a final dusting of the same chocolate powder used to make the drink. A sigh of pure satisfcation left him as he marvelled at his handiwork. “You did it again, Mr. First Class... You did it again.”

Eventually, he returned to his beloved’s side— mug filled to the brim with all of her favourite things placed gently upon her bedside table. He was going to spoil her today, she deserved the world and he was going to try his hardest to give her the normal life that she always desired. That he also yearned for. His own mug was placed on his side as he climbed back onto the bed and wrapped one ghostly arm over her shoulder. His nose dipped gently into her dense hair to touch against her nape before snaking over. Lips met upon her earlobe, a gentle peck upon the rounded skin, breath slow and warm. What followed was a soft whisper, an affectionate tone reserved for her alone behind it.

“Do you feel like waking up yet? The hot chocolate’s gonna get cold...”

{Plotted Starter for @chasiingrain <3)

#;— LET US MAKE THE FUTURE (ic)#;— V. Crisis Core #;— She said she gave all her love to me; we dreamt of a new life- some place to be at peace. (chasiingrain- Jessie)#(c:) chasiingrain (Jessie)#(I'm sorry this got super long but I had jessie's theme on while writing this)#(I may have gone a little overboard but... I love this ship so much ;u;)

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dothwrites · 5 years

Text

spill your blood upon the floor

Dean/Castiel--Hitman AU (some violence)

---

The taste of copper in Dean’s mouth is an unsurprising, but still unwished for, development to his night.

Knuckles slam into his mouth once more. Dean turns his head and spits. He licks his lips and tastes blood, thick and rusty, on his tongue. “Keep on going, if that’s what it takes to get it up,” he sneers.

Again, not surprising when Mook #3 slams his fist into his face.

It was supposed to be just a simple recon job--snoop around, take a looksie, and then get out. No muss, no fuss, and Dean’s back at his safe-house in time to catch up on the latest rerun of Dr. Sexy. But instead, he’s got his hands tied behind his back and his ankles tied to the legs of a rickety chair that’s quite frankly seen better days. Somehow, they’d managed to trip an alarm and then there had been guys rushing in. Dean had gotten a quick glimpse of Cas before he disappeared.

Fucker could have at least waited, Dean thinks, scraping his wrists raw against the rough rope.

“What is Michael planning?” His interrogator’s voice isn’t as calm and collected as it was when they started this little farce. Fuck ‘em. They can all burn in hell as far as Dean’s concerned.

“Fuck off,” he says, rolling his eyes as he shifts his wrists. He’s going to have marks for days, but he thinks that he felt a little slack in the ropes.

“Why were you here?”

Dean shrugs. It’s hard with what he’s fairly certain is at least a cracked rib, but he manages the gesture well enough. “Vacation spot?” he offers, and once again, with the pithy, knuckle-filled retort from Dumbass.

He’s been here enough times to know how this goes: Dumb and Dumber will beat him up, knock him around a little bit, maybe even bring out something kinky like the knives or the blowtorch. He’ll wrestle free of the ropes, because in thirty-three years he hasn’t yet found the pair of cuffs or ropes that will hold him. He’ll leave here--a little bloodier and bruised than he was when he entered, but Henchmen 1-3 won’t survive long enough to get their hourly cut.

Dean’s rate is too high to waste him on low-profile shit like babysitting headquarters, but if he were in their spot he knows what he’d do. You ask once. If you get an answer that you like, fine. If you get an answer that you don’t like, fine. It ends the same--two in the chest, one in the head, wipe the gun and toss it in the river.

Fucking amateurs.

So he’ll sit here, and take a beating, because fuck it, what else was he going to do with his Friday night? He does want to know where Cas buggered off to. Not that he was expecting loyalty, but he would have thought that Cas would have stuck around to at least report the details of his death to Michael.

Thing is, Dean wasn’t supposed to survive his partnership with Cas. No one had previously. Cas killed his last partner (granted, his last partner was a traitor intending on selling the whole organization out) with a cold knife through the throat. No regrets, no qualms. Man he worked with for five years, dead on the floor, and all Cas did was stare at the body for a second before walking away.

Dean’s heard the other stories--Cas killed his own brothers, Cas burned down Raphael’s whole organization. Cas spent so long on Raphael that when he was done, there wasn’t anything left to identify--just a pink smear on the floor. He doesn’t know how many of the stories that he believes, but he does know something for sure.

Cas is crazy.

Not the kind of crazy that they all are, the kind that laughs after an adrenaline rush, the kind that gets a little hard from the pain, the kind that always pushes it just that little bit farther just so you can see if this time’s really it. No, Cas is crazy crazy, batshit crazy, shove a penknife in someone’s eye and laugh crazy. The rabid dog kind of crazy, one of the ones that you have to put down before it turns around and bites you.

Cas ripped a guy’s throat out with his teeth once. Dean saw it. Hands tied behind his back, dark hair fisted in some meathead’s fingers, and the asshole was just pounding Cas’ face. Cas was laughing, huge belly laughs. His teeth flashed white in the mess of red and then there was--Well. Dean had known the amount of blood that was in a human body, but it was different when most of that blood was dripping down Cas’ chin and throat.

That was when the first hot, dark curl of something twisted through Dean’s gut.

He hadn’t been under the impression that he and Cas were really tight, but he’d at least thought that Cas might stick around. Sometimes Cas looks at him, with that heavy, purposeful gaze, the kind that makes Dean wonder whether or not Cas is going to kill him or fuck him, and there should be something that happens, but. Nothing ever does.

Dean’s head snaps back as another punch lands on his cheek. The skin splits open and blood flows down his face. He can take more. He has taken more.

“You think that you can last forever?” Mook #2 sneers. Dean doesn’t bother trying to hide the roll of his eyes.

Out of the corner of his eye, a shadow separates from the rest of the wall.

Dean lolls his head forward to hide his grin. Blood drips in a steady stream from his nose and mouth onto his lap, but he can’t stop the delighted little squirm in the pit of his stomach. It touches something darker in him, something that he doesn’t look at but out the corner of his eye whenever he catches sight of himself in a mirror.

“You’re just a hired hand, you’re not family, not--”

When Dean was younger, back before his entire life went to shit, he saw a tornado touch down one time. Even from a mile away, he could see the cloud of debris tossed up in the wake of the storm. He could smell the violence of it, appreciate the sheer destruction held in something so ephemeral.

Watching Castiel Novak fight is like watching a storm. Nothing is wasted--not the knife that slices into a hamstring and then a throat, not the gun that fires a clean shot through Mook #1′s throat. Mook #2, realizing his tenuous position, starts to run towards the exit, but Cas doesn’t even let him get three steps before he’s on him. Jesus, Dean’s expecting it, and he doesn’t even catch the moment when Cas shifts from kneeling on the ground to tackling the running man down.

“We can give you what you want,” the henchman gurgles. His breathing is cut off in no small part to Cas’ hand wrapped unforgiving around his throat. “Whatever you want--information, money? Drugs? I can make sure that you--”

Cas turns to look at Dean. All of that fearsome focus is narrowed to a single point, to Dean, and yeah, Dean’s a little fucked up. Cas never takes his eyes off of Dean, not when he slides the knife between the man’s ribs, not when he withdraws it to the soundtrack of a slow death rattle. Dean gets a little chub from the sheer disregard that Cas shows the man. Like his life means nothing. The way that Cas stares at him, it’s like Dean’s the only thing on the face of the earth that could ever matter.

Dean’s no fucking saint. He loves it.

Cas unfolds, slowly, like a threat. He never speaks as he stalks over to where Dean’s still tied, face like an oncoming storm. Blood drips off the blade of his knife, leaving tiny little spatters in its wake. They’ll have to burn the building down afterward, but jesus, it’s worth it, to watch how Cas’ lip curls in a silent snarl.

Cas is crazy. Dean fucking loves it.

“Hey Cas,” he says. The arrogance in his voice is a bad idea, but Dean could no sooner stop that tone than he could fix the synapses that fire wrong in Cas’ brain. “Was wondering when you’d show up.”

Cas lays the flat of his blade against Dean’s throat, smearing his skin with another’s man’s blood. He presses, just hard enough to almost nick the skin but not quite.

“You’re reckless,” Cas says, his voice honey-whiskey gravel. Jesus, Dean could come from that voice. “Insouciant.”

Dean leers. “Tell me something that I don’t know. You at least got what we came for, right?”

Cas’ face is unreadable. The knife slips in his hand, but Cas doesn’t slip. He deliberately moves his wrist, lets the blade cut into Dean’s neck. “I should have left you,” he says.

The words sound like they’re meant as a warning for Dean, but the tone is wrong. The tone makes it sound like Cas is speaking aloud and working something out for himself.

A hand shoots out and fists itself in Dean’s hair. “I should have left you,” Cas hisses. Bright pain sparks along Dean’s scalp as he shakes him once, hard.

Dean’s lips pull back from his teeth in a smile that’s half pain, half sneer. “And you didn’t. Why?”

Thing is, Cas is crazy. He was supposed to kill Dean. Dean knows that the assholes in Michael’s organization were betting on how long he would last--some of them had him lasting a full two weeks, while others put his survival rate at a few hours. Joke’s on them--six months in and Dean’s still alive, still staring at the face of the storm, fearing it. Wanting to taste it.

If Cas were a normal person, with normal emotions, Dean might be able to read his expressions. But Cas is Cas--looking into his eyes is like peering into the deepest depths of the ocean and hoping that nothing peers back.

The ropes fall away from Dean’s wrists--when did Cas even move? Without ever taking his eyes off of Cas, Dean bends over to work at the knots around his ankles. Cas stares at him. He has a bloody knife in his hands, his fingers are filthy with the remnants of other people’s lives, and yet there’s something feral and hunted in his posture.

“Fucking watch yourself Winchester. Next time I won’t come back.”

Cas stalks away. Within a few steps, he’s blended back into the shadows, like he was never there. Dean stares after him for a minute, until he can calm the rapid beat of his heart. Then, he picks himself up from the chair and rolls out the discomfort in his joints.

Blood trickles down his neck, intimate as a kiss.

Physical love is unthinkable without violence. --Milan Kundera

#destiel #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #dean winchester #castiel #dothwrites #supernatural #this came out a lot saner than i meant it to #but oh well

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tbehartoo · 4 years

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200 Follower Thank you

Once upon a time, I said hey I’m about to have 200 followers. That’s 199 more followers than I ever expected to have. Maybe I should show these people some appreciation for following my hodgepodge of a blog? I asked what would be considered a good Thank you and received a whopping one (1) reply to the possibilities I mentioned. This is a result of that poll. Please note: I will NEVER volunteer to do this again!

200 Head Canons from the various fandoms I’ve written fan fic for (Fairy Tail, Miraculous Ladybug, and Voltron: Legendary Defenders). Please note these are made up things from my very tired brain and not necessarily thought through or even complete ideas, though I did try to make them internally consistent there are no guarantees. They might contradict each other and most certainly will contradict canon. Please take everything with a grain of salt, and enjoy!

Erza Scarlet (Fairy Tail)

1-Erza only likes red fruits- strawberries, cherries, raspberries dragon fruit, apples, etc.. But they have to be red in color not other versions of the same kind of fruit. No black cherries, green apples, or the like- she can taste the difference even blindfolded.

2- Erza likes to go stargazing on summer nights, but can’t sit still for watching clouds.

3- Between missions she will occasionally try to write poetry. It does not go well

4- She has never told anyone about the poetry!

5- There is a small part of the space she uses for her requip items that contains the locked box with her writing journals.

6- Erza and Mira like to go shopping together. The stores tremble in fear when the two are on a campaign to find the perfect outfit. One boutique has had to hire a couple of mercenaries at the door to give the staff sufficient time to brace for impact, whenever they have a sale and the girls are in town.

7- There is a cat colony near Fairy Hills and every single cat knows Erza. They are all feral cats, but they trust Erza to provide calming attention.

8- Two things Erza does in any new place is find the baths and find the gyms.

9- She likes to go to different gyms to observe new fighting techniques, but she doesn’t like to be recognized so she always goes in disguise.

10- Every time she asks to be taught a new technique, there is one guy (you know that one guy) that feels he needs to mansplain things to her.

11- This man is always handed his ego on a silver platter with a side serving of crow. Sometimes quite painfully.

12- Erza was once invited to an underground gym by a woman she met at the baths. She was so surprised to find it was a group dedicated to learning to fight like the Great Titania. Most of the women had histories of being abused, but had been inspired by the leader of the Fairies to stand up for themselves and get safe. They then worked to make sure that others are safe on the streets of their city and in their homes. Erza actually broke down at learning of their strength and resilience.

13- The only time she purposefully took off her disguise was for these women to thank them. She then spent the rest of the night helping them train.

14- Erza is demisexual which is why she fell so hard for Jellal as she had a strong connection to him.

15- She continues to have fond feelings for Jellal, but is no longer romantically or sexually interested in him.

16- Erza doesn’t bother to tell others in her guild about her changed feelings for Jellal which means the girls are always trying to get them alone together whenever he’s in town.

17- Meredy once sneaked a sensory link between Erza and Jellal and herself to figure out what was going on with them. She never told anyone what she found out, but she worked at toning down the FT girls’ attempts at matchmaking.

18- Erza works really hard to keep her strength in check. She has trained with Guildarts to get her control as finely tuned as it is.

19- Erza has yet to find a mode of transportation that is fast enough for her. It’s a pity that Magnolia doesn’t have jet propulsion or rockets.

20- Her favorite hot drink is cinnamon tea with a little sweetened condensed milk in it.

Lucy Heartfilia (Fairy Tail)

1- Lucy prefers the feel of cotton over silk, but she prefers the look of silk over cotton.

2- She has to invest in cotton, linen and woolen clothing as a member of Team Natsu since they don’t burn as easily as other materials.

3- Lucy has asked Levy to look for a fire retardant/ fire proofing spell to be able to use for both her clothing and her apartment.

4- Lucy was taught to crochet when she was a young girl. Though she doesn’t make the fine lace she was expected to produce as a child, she does use those skills to make tiny amigurumi mice for Happy.

5- Lucy also crochets scarves and hats every autumn for her friends. Often she makes a couple extra ones to donate to the local women’s shelter.

6- Aires likes to bring Lucy wool like thread/yarn from the spirit world for her to use in her projects.

7- Lucy likes to go fishing with Natsu and Happy.

8- She does not like catching fish with Natsu and Happy.

She like casting her rod and reeling it in, but she does NOT like baiting her hook or killing the fish. Natsu and Happy have no problems taking care of those things for her.

9- Lucy prefers moving rivers and creeks over still ponds and lakes.

10- She loves going to the beach to watch the waves break along the shore.

11- Lucy was taught how to steer a boat, well it was a yacht but why quibble over details?

12- She once claimed she was going to sail around the globe, but her father told her not to talk nonsense and then sold their boat to keep her from ever trying.

13- Lucy made friends with the birds in the garden and can whistle their calls almost as well as the birds themselves.

14- Lucy has always told herself stories. Even when she’s on a job with Team Natsu she’s often composing short stories as her day goes along.

15- Lucy hates the taste of truffle and will instantly distrust anyone who claims to like it.

16- She prefers to have short hair, but keeps hers long to be able to use the comb and brush set her mother used to use.

17- Lucy has two special silver hair pins that her mother gave her when she twelve. They belonged to her grandmother and her great-great-aunt. They get passed down to the next generation on the twelfth year after they have sparked. They always end up with a celestial mage.

18- Lucy’s understanding of celestial contracts is both modern and archaic. She is well aware of what is expected from a modern magic user, but she has been well taught in the lore of celestial beings.

19- Most celestial spirits are pretty plain speaking with what they will, can, or won’t do. Some however, the eldest spirits, are very tricky and will find whatever loopholes through imprecise language they can to do what they can to be maliciously compliant. This is why, even though the elder spirits are more powerful than most of their siblings, they are rarely contracted with.

20- Lucy eventually has five contracts with elder Celestial Spirits. None of them have been able to twist out of their responsibilities to her.

Natsu Dragneel (Fairy Tail)

1- Natsu only flies off the handle so easily so that he has “legitimate” reasons for using his fire.

2- He has to eat a lot to have enough fuel for his fire.

3- He really just likes to eat and uses his fire so often so that he has room to eat more.

4- Natsu often lies awake at night trying to come up with good insults for Gray, Gajeel, and even Loki, though he rarely remembers them thus having to fall back on old and well used insults.

5- When Natsu does remember a new insult, he will rate the reaction on a scale of one to five and if it doesn’t get a four or a five he will drop using it.

6- One time he said something about Levy to Gajeel that was rated a ten and after he healed up, he never used that particular insult again.

7- Because of the sheer amount of energy that routinely flows through Natsu, he has a faster healing rate than most people, including dragon slayers, except Wendy. Wendy’s magic makes her quick to heal so that she can heal others.

8- Natsu has several potted succulents that he and Happy take care of whenever they are in town.

9- Natsu talks to his plants and has named each one.

10- One time a new neighbor overwatered his plants while Natsu was ot of town, killing all of the plants.

11- The new neighbor was mortified and offered to buy replacements, but Natsu was offended. You don’t buy FAMILY MEMBERS they are FOUND!

12- Natsu and Happy took nothing but desert and costal assignments for a year to find new plants for their place. They even took a few over to the neighbor to teach them how to care for the very laid back plants.

13- Natsu isn’t dumb, he’s just simple. No need to be all stealthy when you can just flame broil a problem. Right?

14- Natsu likes to come in Lucy’s apartment through the window because she’s always good for a laugh when he does it.

15- Happy, and Natsu, likes to stay the night at Lucy’s place because she will read them a bedtime story.

16- Natsu’s favorite stories are about the constellations and the heroes that got put into the stars.

17- Happy’s favorite stories are about animals acting like humans, and who like to eat a lot. (Basically he likes Redwall stories, just those from Earthland)

18- Natsu hates the Pied Piper story because the kids didn’t help their lame friend go with them and Happy hates it because he scared all the rats away. Somehow the book with that story in it mysteriously burned to a crisp.

19- Natsu doesn’t have a favorite color. It changes every time someone asks.

20- When Natsu is really stressed Happy will curl up in his lap and start purring. When Happy is stressed, Natsu will raise his body temperature slightly and then hold Happy close until Happy feels like he can purr again.

Gray Fullbuster (Fairy Tail)

1- Gray doesn’t like the feel of most of his clothes touching his skin.

2- He only likes the feeling of heavy clothes touching him. Lightweight clothes bug him.

3- Gray prefers to take jobs that take him up in the mountains because it’s cooler there, and there tend to be less people he has to deal with.

4- Gray’s favorite place to vacation is the beach in the summer, but otherwise he prefers foothills in the spring for all their blooms, mountain slopes in the winter for the ice and snow, and mountain valleys in the autumn for the color change of the leaves.

5- While ice and snow don’t bother Gray, and even charge up his magic, he still prefers to come in and sit in front of a toasty fire with a warm beverage after being out in the snow.

6- One reason Gray doesn’t object to Natsu being around and being annoying is because he always has that portable space heater thing going after being cold when Natsu is around.

7- Gray experiments with poetry when he travels on his own. He never writes any of it down.

8- Gray is obscenely good with numbers and logic puzzles.

9- He’s been banned from many gambling establishments for exposing their crooked practices, even the ones that usually go unnoticed.

10- Gray kind of assumes that other people also see what he sees and doesn’t understand why he’s expected to spell everything out for the rest of Team Natsu.

11- Gray is slow to warm up to people. He’s been let down before, so once he considers you a his friend, he’s your friend for life.

12- People that really know Gray were surprised at how quickly he befriended Lucy. With most people Gray takes at least a year to even start acknowledging their existence.

13- Gray thinks Lucy is like a little sister that needs careful watching up until Tenrou.

14- After Tenrou, Gray thinks of Lucy as an equal that can and will kick his butt if he needs it.

15- Gray is not afraid of Erza, unless Natsu is involved.

16- Gray was once emotionally and verbally abused by a girlfriend, it’s what makes Juvia’s first behavior and love declarations so uncomfortable for him.

17- Gray will never admit that he’s jealous of Natsu and Gajeel’s exceed companions. But he does want to have his own flying cat occasionally.

18- Gray’s least favorite food is egg nog ice cream. He just doesn’t care for the flavor and you couldn’t get him to drink hot egg nog for love or money.

19- Gray’s preferred hot drink is Lapsang souchong tea. He likes the pine flavor in his tea cup.

20- One time Lucy, Erza, and Wendy invited Gray to accompany them to a fancy Hotel for afternoon tea. It was the only time he willingly wore a three piece suit!

Marinette Dupain-Cheng (Miraculous Ladybug)

1- Marinette likes to make lots of different kinds of pastries.

2- She only likes to actually eat a few types of pastry.

3- There are baked goods that she makes, but never eats because the textures give her the heebie jeebies. She knows other people love them so she’ll still make them.

4- Sabine, Marinette’s mom, was a martial artist of Chāquán. It is “a Chinese martial art that features graceful movements and some acrobatic aerial maneuvers. Chāquán also includes a large range of weapons.” Sabine was especially proficient in the use of the hookswords and the spear, which she has taught Marinette.

5- Sabine still goes over her forms every morning and young Marinette practices with her.

6- Marinette was fairly good at the acrobatic maneuvers until she hit puberty. Her mother often reassures Marinette that after she finishes her growth spurts she’ll be back to doing those moves again without messing up every third one.

7- Even though her father is an only child Marinette has dozens of “uncles” from around the world. Tom played on a rugby team in college and even was in the minor league for awhile. All of his team mates were made honorary uncles when Marinette was born. They get dozens of Christmas cards, letters, and emails to keep in touch.

8- Marinette and Tom once did a tour of Europe only staying with his old teammates. They never had to find a hotel during the two weeks they traveled. They’ve had a fair few of them stay at their place in Paris, too.

9- Marinette often makes presents for her uncles, aunties, and cousins throughout the year, and receives small presents from them as well.

10- She was saving up for a trip to Australia and New Zealand for her sixteenth birthday, so that her family could visit with a couple of uncles in that part of the world, but suddenly Hawkmoth came up and now she’s not sure they will ever take that trip.

11- She mentioned Chat Noir and Ladybug in an email to one of her ‘cousins’ in New Zealand who hadn’t heard of them, so she linked them to Alya’s Ladyblog telling her that this was really going on in Paris.

12- Two weeks later she got a video from them asking Mari to pass it along to Ladybug and Chat Noir. It showed their family and all their neighbors doing a haka for Paris and the heroes. They said it was to encourage the heroes to be strong and have courage in the face of Hawkmoth.

13- Mari cried when she saw the video as she knew what a big deal it was for them to do this for her. She asked for a translation of the words and was surprised to find it was actually written by her cousin’s grandfather, who was considered a great warrior chief, specifically for LB and CN.

14- Mari asked if only someone from her cousin’s tribe could perform that haka or if it would be considered appropriation for her and her friends to do it, too. She received another video that was an interview with the man who wrote it. He explained the tradition, the words, and showed exactly how each part should be performed. Then he gave all of Paris his blessing to do his haka for the heroes.

15- Marinette brought Alya over right away and showed her the videos. Alya promised to put both videos up right away. The traffic shut down the blog host’s servers!

16- Marinette invited this cousin’s family to visit during the summer to thank them for all that they did. During their visit an akuma attack happened. This family was delighted to suddenly have Ladybug calling the city to order and joining in as all across the capital young and old were preparing to dance strength and courage into being.

17- Marinette has noticed that her strength to stand up to Hawkmoth and perform her duties as Ladybug has increased dramatically ever since she, and the rest of Paris, has started doing the special haka.

18- Marinette likes to put youtube on autoplay and start on a random video when she’s trying to come up with a design and feels blocked. She stops it on the third and seventh video and then tries to come up with a design based on the video’s title.

19- Marinette has just started trying out needle felting and loves to make little felt mice for the animal shelter Chat Noir has endorsed.

20- Marinette has become the vice-president of the Chat Noir fan club at Francois- Dupont. Nino is the president.

Plagg and Tikki (Miraculous Ladybug)

1- Plagg watches a video of camembert making on loop whenever he can get Adrien’s phone. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=atOpLj-q5nA) [People in the comments are seriously convinced that Plagg would like this video!]

2- Tikki likes to watch crafting videos and always makes sure to leave an encouraging comment on each one she watches.

3- Tikki prefers sweet things to eat, but she can recharge on almost any food.

4- Plagg actually needs those fermented, slightly spoiled foods to recharge completely otherwise he’s acting on about half power.

5- Plagg wanted to explore Adrien’s house more, but Gabriel’s interest in Adrien’s ring has made him stick close to his boy.

6- Plagg spent the first month of being awake getting familiar with current events using Adrien’s phone. The invention of the computer has made him ridiculously happy.

7- Plagg may or may not have had something to do with a computer virus that infected the mansion’s protection protocol after Gabriel was akumatized. Now Adrien can get out of his room an time lockdown is initiated and doesn’t have to feel trapped in his room.

8- Tikki doesn’t sleep as much as Marinette does. She gets about an hour a night.

9- Tikki emits strong “sleep rays” when she sleeps to help her holders get to sleep. Her creative types can be overthinkers that need help dropping off.

10- Tikki doesn’t need to sleep. Whenever creation is happening she is energized and really doesn’t need to rest. She’s the originator of “pulling an all nighter”

11- Tikki tends to get a surge of power at the equinoxes while Plagg receives more power at the solstices.

12- Tikki loved coming across this video of The HU and plays it as often as she can. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jM8dCGIm6yc

13- Plagg found out about punk rock and now plays it as Adrien sleeps hoping that the messages of the music makes through that thick layer of “presentability” Gabriel has forced on Adrien.

14- Tikki sometimes leaves Marinette’s purse to flit over and peek at Nathaniel’s progress on his drawings if the lesson is boring.

15- Plagg’s hearing is very sharp and his ears let him tune into conversations without moving much. He is careful to check into the class gossip, but also listens in to what’s happening in Mr. Damocles’ office and the teacher lounge.

16- Plagg listened in on Tom and Gorilla’s talking about Marinette and Adrien and snickers whenever he remembers Gorilla saying, “My money’s still on Marinette confessing first. Mine’s to dense to realize how far gone he already is. He might believe she likes him on their golden wedding anniversary.”

17- Even though Plagg can phase through matter he still has a healthy respect for Gorilla’s brute strength and doesn’t want to test if he’d be quick enough to dodge the big man in the even of an emergency.

18- Tikki spends many nights creating pictures of fractals using Marinette’s digital drawing tools.

19- Tikki may or may not be the cause of Marinette having more advanced capabilities digitally than any major studio on earth.

20- Tikki despises the nickname Sugarcube, but it is the best out of Plagg many, many tries so she puts up with it. Stinky Sock is the mildest nick name Tikki has ever called Plagg.

20.B- Most of her other names for him would be considered unprintable, but they’re in dead languages so it’s probably safe for her to use them.

20.C- Plagg tries not to mess up so badly that she uses the Babylonian curse on him.

20.D- Plagg can tell how angry Tikki is by what language she slips into. The older the language is, the more angry Tikki is.

Nino Lahiffe (Miraculous Ladybug)

1- Nino used to play percussion on everything he ever came in contact with until his uncle brought over a small hand drum for him to play. His parents called it ‘tapping’ when he was little.

2- The rule around the house was that he could only tap on the drum and not other parts of the house, when he was inside. Everything outside of the house was fair game.

3- Nino’s uncle came over every day to teach him the basics of playing his doumbek.

4- After a year of lessons, his uncle would take him to his weekly drum group where the more experienced drummers would teach little Nino drum tricks like rolls and pops.

5- By the time Nino was eight, he was a regular member of the drumming group and often went with them to play at weddings, parties, or other events. He was the cutest kid! When he was all decked out in traditional Moroccan garb playing smoking hot solos, he was often the source of viral videos.

6- In school he tried to join the band, but he was far too advanced for the beginning players and they didn’t have an advanced group for him to join.

7- The band teacher wanted to help him continue with his music so he showed Nino how to record and remix his own drumming.

8- The summer after that, he spent every day busking with a different member of the drum group to be able to afford his own recording equipment and programs.

9- The summer music money plus his share of the money for playing events with the drum group allowed him to be able to turn his room into basically a recording studio.

10- He soon became the group’s recorder which led to him also video taping performances.

11- The year before Stoneheart happens, the art teacher was able to teach Nino some basic film editing.

12- Nino’s tapping was one way for him to relieve his anxiety, the other way he tries to release it is through blowing bubbles as a kind of meditation.

13- It was hard for him to use his bubbles again after the Bubbler incident.

14- When Alya and Nino got locked in the cage at the zoo, it took all of ten seconds for Alya to figure out he didn’t actually have a crush on her. It took fifteen seconds for her to figure out it was Marinette he’d liked. He was really embarrassed about it.

15- However, after talking a lot about things they liked and disliked they found they really had a lot in common. Alya told Nino about Marinette’s crush on Adrien and Nino was upset for a moment, but then Alya made him laugh and he was suddenly thinking, “Marinette who?”

16- By the time they were out of the cage Nino was firmly in Alya’s corner for matchmaking Marinette with his friend Adrien.

17- Nino’s anxiety can get high during an akuma attack, unless he has someone to watch out for or protect, then he’s calm and collected. Which makes running after Alya toward the big scary monster the better choice for him during those moments.

18- Nino was a natural at wielding the Turtle Miraculous as it played to his need to protect.

19- After being Carapace, battles in which he wasn’t called to be a protector of Paris were excruciating to watch even as he kept Alya from coming to harm. He craved using the Miraculous as it allowed him to care for more people at once.

20- Nino introduced Wayzz to both smooth jazz and rap music just to see what the kwami would do. He loved everything Nino threw at him! Wayzz requested a copy of Nino’s latest mixes and a song by Sade before he had to go back to the Guardian. Nino found an old iPod to give to the little godling who claimed it would be his most precious treasure. Nino couldn’t talk for a full five minutes as he was too embarrassed and proud to speak.

M. Gorilla (Miraculous Ladybug)

1- Gorilla and Tom played Rugby on the same team in college.

2- He often stops by the bakery after dropping Adrien off at school if he isn’t needed by M. Agreste immediately.

3- He’s convinced that Adrien is in love with Marinette, as are Tom and Sabine. It’s a topic of great interest and much discussion when he comes in, if there aren’t other customers around. Sabine and Gorilla have a bet on who will confess their feelings first. (Sabine’s money is on Adrien.)

4- Tom and Gorilla met their future spouses as they acted as bouncers at a local club on weekends all thorough their Junior and Senior years at university.

5- Sabine and Gorilla’s significant other, Jerome, were in a group of friends that frequented the night club regularly. Sabine dared her friend to get the cute bouncer’s phone number by the end of the night. After a few shots of liquid courage, he’d brazenly asked Tom for a date and his number, but Tom gently, and privately, told the young man he was straight. He then motioned for Gorilla to come over and introduced the two. The young man returned to the bar with two phone numbers: Gorilla’s for him and Tom’s for Sabine.

6- Tom made the cake for Gorilla’s commitment ceremony, before same-sex marriage was legal in France. When Marinette was ten, he also made the wedding cake for Gorilla when he and Jerome were legally able to be married.

7- Jerome had a child from a previous relationship that he and Gorilla took care of for the first five years of the girl’s life. She was taken away when the girl’s mother claimed that Jerome wasn’t the father of the child. DNA tests proved he wasn’t. The mother tried to sue another man for child support, then took the girl and moved to another country.

8- Gorilla and Jerome were distraught to have their little girl taken from them. They tried to adopt another child, but they were denied and not even allowed to foster any children.

9- Gorilla started working for the Agreste family shortly after he lost his daughter.

10- Emilie saw how angry he was over anyone that wasn’t an Agreste coming near Adrien and eventually got the story out of him over why he’d be so protective to keep people from potentially taking her son away. It was something she was very appreciative over. Gorilla considered her a friend after she went out of her way to find out about his heartbreak.

11- Gorilla is legally Adrien’s godfather. When Emilie heard what that woman had done to Gorilla she took Gorilla and Adrien to her lawyer and made Gorilla legally responsible for Adrien and any future children she may have regardless of his continuing employment by the Agreste family. Gabriel signed the papers without complaint, but didn’t actually read them carefully, or register exactly what he was signing..

12- Gorilla worked for the DGSI, the French CIA, as an informant while playing rugby. It allowed him to travel for legitimate reasons and keep tabs on one of the players for the DGSI.

13- After university, Gorilla was recruited to become an agent. He was injured on an assignment and decided to retire to be an up and coming rocker’s body guard.

14- He and Jerome get invited backstage any time Jagged is in town to be able to catch up.

15- Gorilla really enjoyed doing his job as a bodyguard, but wanted to be home more with Jerome, especially after their little Marie was taken from them.

16- The DGSI came to Gorilla to ask if he’d be interested in working for them again as they look into the workings of one Gabriel Agreste and the Gabriel empire.

17- Gorilla was actually key in getting Nathalie in the door at Gabriel. She is also an informant gathering evidence on Gabriel Agreste.

18- Gorilla was speechless when their higher ups requested that he and Nathalie continue to aide Gabriel once he became a magical terrorist, they were interested in seeing the power of the moth Miraculous and what it could do. Nathalie complied willingly, but Gorilla refused to do anything that would put Adrien in trouble.

19- Gorilla despaired of Adrien ever figuring out how to give him the slip, and he was so proud when Adrien succeeded at eluding his tailing him through the Metro. Then he panicked because he just lost his child!

20- Gorilla is fully aware that Adrien is Chat Noir. He was the one to change the angle of the security cameras, and conveniently show Adrien their blind spot right outside his window. (Seriously, that boy needs all the help he can get.)

Pidge Gunderson/Katie Holt (Voltron: Legendary Defender)

1- Katie was introduced to Pokemon when she was very young.

2-For awhile all she managed to find were Pidgeys in her game. And she collected every one she could.

3- Matt laughed at her for this and nicknamed her “Pidge”.

4- Katie didn’t like his teasing and vowed to make her pidgeys the strongest she could to beat Matt’s team.

5- She eventually fulfilled that vow.

6- Later Pidge went on to collect and evolve almost every pokemon in the pokedex.

7- Matt never recovered from being beaten by a flock of pidgeot, and has refused to pick up the game ever since that time. Pidge considered that her greatest accomplishment until she infiltrated the Garrison.

8- Katie has loved robots ever since she watched the Iron Giant movie with her dad.

9- Katie first started building robots when she got a MeccaSpider Robot Kit for her sixth birthday.

10- She was dissatisfied with how klunky the spider turned out to be and proceeded to borrow a few parts from something of Matt’s to make it work better. It’s ability to move as quickly and silently as a spider was not appreciated by all the inhabitants of her home.

11- Katie has never grown out of her ability to see other uses for mechanical parts past their intended use, or for cannibalizing parts from anywhere she can get them.

12- While Katie likes to build robots, what she really adores is programming them. She hopes someday to make a small robot that can serve to help the physically disabled with everyday tasks.

13- Seeing her mother’s father struggle after he fell and broke his hip was what has spurred Katie on in her endeavor to build helper robots.

14- For all the squabbling and tattling that she and Matt engaged in, they were very good friends. When he left for the Garrison, and had to stay there, Katie cried every night for a month.

15- Katie hates to be in the middle of drama, but she loves to watch it unfold. She has been guilty of bringing snacks to watch Lance confront someone about a perceived slight.

16- Katie is a multishipper of fictional characters. When Hunk asked if she shipped Lance with any of the other cadets at the Garrison, she read him the riot act for shipping “real people”.

17- Pidge faked a crush for a whole week while in the Garrison when Lance wouldn’t stop pestering her about it. Then the female cadet showed up with a girlfriend and Lance tried to console Pidge about not having a shot since her “crush” was into girls. Pidge didn’t know how to feel about the entire situation and started telling Lance to “Zip it!” whenever he started up about Pidge needing a girlfriend.

18- Pidge finds the idea of “love at first sight” baffling and illogical, unless it’s a sweet piece of tech. Then she totally gets it. Her idea of a “sweet piece of tech” is not the same as Lance’s, but Hunk gets her.

19- Pidge is curious about everything! She likes to tinker with things to find out how they work as well as read about discoveries others have made.

20- Pidge finds sociology fascinating. People and cultures can be hard to understand, robots are nicer that way, but once she gets to meet so many other sentient beings, see their environments, and how they adapt to them- she thinks they are almost as awesome as the robots.

Hunk (Voltron: Legendary Defender)

1- Hunk’s grandmother (his father’s mother) was a chef at an upscale hotel. She’s the one that gave him his first lessons in cooking, knife skills, and developing one’s palate.

2- Hunk’s grandfather (his father’s father) was a fisherman who demonstrated traditional fishing techniques at their island’s living history museum three times a week once he’d retired. There was always plenty of fish to go around on those days.

3- Hunk’s other grandfather (his mother’s father) was an electrical engineer and worked for the county as lead engineer. He often had little models of circuits and old mother boards that he let Hunk tinker with and program.

4- His other grandmother (his mother’s mother) was the designated worrier of the family. She also had a lush garden that she tended daily. It was full of strange plants that often bore unusual fruits for the family to eat.

5- Hunk learned to combine the strange fruits with the kitchen skills he had to make things his younger siblings would eat. Not every experiment turned out well, but he always tried to analyze what went wrong and strategize a better plan to execute his vision for the star ingredient.

6- Hunk and his cousins often had “Bake offs” when they went to TiTi’s house for sleep overs. Hunk usually lost as baking was not his forte.

7- When he and his cousins did their own version of “Chopped” then Hunk usually won hands down. Especially when given a strange basket of ingredients to work with.

8- Hunk is highly anxious but working in the kitchen helps to calm him down. The rules for cooking are simple and there are few surprises he’s not prepared to deal with.

9- Hunk uses his cell phone to ease his anxiety about things in the kitchen. He always takes a photo with a time stamp when he leaves the kitchen. Also he has remote access to all appliances with alerts to let him know when everything is being used.

10- Hunk has installed cameras and view screens on every major appliance in his family’s homes so that if he starts to worry about them, he can check his phone to see what their status is.

11- The first time Hunk left something on in the Castle he realized he’d need to come up with the same kind of thing so he wouldn’t worry while on a mission.

12- The Castle had no clue what Hunk was doing, but eventually allowed Hunk and Pidge to install primitive sensors in the kitchen appliances (and the garbage disposal for some reason) but absolutely refused to allow remote activation of anything. Hunk had to be content with that.

13- Hunk has difficulty standing up for himself, but his anxiety has “Protective Mom” override mode. He will absolutely end someone messing with his friend or family member.

14- Hunk’s favorite color isn’t yellow, it’s orange. However he was drawn to the Yellow Lion because they both want to protect their friends and family.

15- The first night Hunk spent in the Castle of Lions he made sure to lock the door then proceeded to do a traditional siva tau in memory of his family whom he never expected to see again.

16- Hunk has composed a special siva tau that includes some of the people and places he’s been. It offers each of them encouragement to be strong, to trust in the goodness of others, and realize that they are not alone in the universe.

17- Hunk has performed his siva tau on only three occasions. Each time it was at the request of Allura for other groups that had lost their home planets. After each performance Hunk would have several people ask if he would teach them the dance.

18- After the defeat of the Galra, Hunk composed a second siva tau to celebrate the victory and also to mourn those who were lost to the conflict.

19- On the anniversary of this moment Hunk, his family, and any Paladin that is near will gather to celebrate. The evening always closes with the bon fire being stoked up and a performance of that second siva tau.

20- At Hunk’s death there was a large crowd full of many species that honored his family and expressed their grief at his passing by performing Hunk’s first siva tau. It was said that the earth trembled as each foot/appendage touched down and the skies carried the sound of their voices all around the globe.

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