#it's a miracle that everyone and everything around me is not covered in bite marks

[breelandwalker]

Oh they are ALL coming out of the woodwork at the office today.

Unfortunately for them, today I woke up and choose sugar-coated violence.

My officemate has just watched me maintain perfect Customer Service Voice while rage-glaring a hole in the wall and is rightly terrified.

#fuck work #bree in real life #it's just gone noon and things didn't slow long enough for me to get water or caffeine OR medication until after 11 #it's a miracle that everyone and everything around me is not covered in bite marks #the bandwidth. i do not haz it.

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Kilgharrah: “Kill that child, Merlin.”

Merlin (like a normal person): “No?? What the fuck???”

And with that, everything changed.

Part 2   Part 3(final part)

“You must let the boy die.”

Kilgharrah’s voice echoed incessantly through Merlin’s head for days after the Druid boy’s appearance, and subsequent disappearance. 

Merlin had, of course, ignored the scaly old bastard, and hadn’t once questioned if he’d done the right thing by hiding Mordred away in his tiny bedroom.

If the boy truly had such a terrible destiny, then the best thing for Merlin to do was to keep him close, if not to steer him away from his fate, then to at least be able to see it coming if it was indeed inevitable.

Currently, Morgana was the only one aware that Mordred was still here (other than Gaius of course, who was somehow disapproving and proud at the same time). As far as everyone else was concerned, Arthur and Uther included, the boy was never found, and must have slipped out of the city somehow (going by the extra patrols in the woods, as opposed to the castle and town).

The Warlock was nervous about anyone knowing at first, but when Morgana had tearfully thanked him for saving Mordred, and proceeded to sneak in spare blankets, food, and money for clothes, Merlin was glad for the co-conspirator.

The boy was currently curled up in the corner of Merlin’s room, a pile of blankets and pillows organised like a bird’s nest around him, wearing a soft shirt and sleeping the night away.

Merlin watched him from his bed, realising with growing horror just how protective of Mordred he had already become. He was so young. How could Merlin even consider punishing a child for some stupid destiny he didn’t even know about?

He had to think of a solution quickly. He couldn’t risk sending him away, not even to the Druids, they were as much slaves to the so-called prophecies as Kilgharrah was, and Merlin had once been (”Gods. Sounds like I’ve been dealing with destiny for years. It’s been like six months. I’m too young for this shit.”). But equally... what could he do with him??

Thankfully, no one had really gotten a good look at the boy, so hopefully with a change of clothes and a haircut, he wouldn’t be recognised, at least not if Merlin came up with a convincing enough story.

To be honest... the cover story worried him far more than the prospect of someone recognising him. Uther hadn’t recognised Nimueh, the woman who had been his court sorceress for years... the man was apparently not very observant.

In the end, it was a throwaway comment by Morgana a few days later, about a week after the Druid boy had “escaped” that gave Merlin a very stupid idea. So stupid, that it might just work.

~

Morgana had once again snuck away from the main castle to sit with Merlin and Mordred in the servant’s room. 

Gaius had said nothing as she’d entered the Physician’s chambers, enough food for four hidden away in the picnic basket she carried, just raised his eyebrow slightly, and thanked The Lady for the food offering that was definitely-not-a-bribe.

She gave him a quick wink, and the old physician rolled his eyes fondly as he set an overturned bucket in front of the door; if anyone came in, they would come in loudly.

Mordred was happy to see her, and Merlin hid a fond smile at the boy’s quiet giggles. He still didn’t speak much, so it was a relief to see him finding joy in something, even if it was clandestine visits from Uther’s ward.

She ruffled his hair slightly, resisting the urge to pull the touch averse boy into a tight hug, and set the basket on the bed. Merlin sat against the pillows, and Morgana sat down opposite him, the basket in between them as Mordred clambered up to sit just in front of Merlin.

Morgana and Merlin talked quietly as they ate, Mordred staying silent as the adults (or...as adult as they could get. Like Merlin kept thinking to himself, he was too young for this shit at sixteen, and Morgana was only two years older than him) avoided the elephant in the room.

The elephant being that they couldn’t keep this up forever. Arthur had a habit of bursting in whenever he so pleased, and it was a miracle he hadn’t done so already. Plus, it would be cruel to expect Mordred to stay cooped up in here for much longer. He was a child, he deserved to play outside and explore and do all the other things he couldn’t do in Merlin’s bedroom.

Once they finished eating, Mordred moved to his makeshift bed in the corner, tightly clutching a book that Morgana had bought him, and furrowing his brows in concentration as he read.

Morgana stared at him with a soft smile, and Merlin sighed, once again worrying about his new ward’s future.

Morgana tilts her head, as if a sudden thought had occurred to her, and looks slowly between Merlin and Mordred as the servant raises a questioning eyebrow at her.

“You know Merlin, the two of you look remarkably similar.”

Mordred is engrossed in his book, and doesn’t react at all to Morgana’s quiet comment, but Merlin’s eyebrow goes even higher as he huffs out a laugh:

“You think? I don’t see it.”

Morgana looks at him with a deadpan expression:

“Merlin, you don’t have a mirror in here. I’m fairly certain you have no concept of what you look like.-”

Merlin looks indignantly offended for all of two seconds before he sighs and nods, she’s right to be fair. He’s tall-ish, with pale skin, and he thinks he has brown hair. That’s about all he knows.

Morgana chuckles as she once again looks at Mordred:

“You both have very dark hair, bright blue eyes, pale skin. You know...-”

She looks back at him with a thoughtful frown on her face:

“-if someone told me you were brothers... I’d believe it.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow:

“Really?”

She nods decisively:

“Yeah. I mean, the more I think about it, the more I look between you, yes. You could definitely be related.”

Merlin nods his head slowly, thinking. He takes in a deep breath and tilts his head slightly:

“It could work. I haven’t really talked to anyone about my family so... we could say that... he came to live with me? Because life here is... good?”

Morgana snorts slightly, rolling her eyes before looking back at him seriously:

“You’d have to be more convincing than that. You could say that the harvest was poor in your village? That Mordred was better off coming to stay with his big brother in the big city?”

Merlin nods at her words, grimacing slightly as he mutters:

“If we’re running with the whole... brother thing, I need to write a letter to my mum, just in case. Gods she’s going to laugh so much.”

Morgana laughs at him quietly, but the noise finally catches Mordred’s attention and he looks up in confusion. Merlin moves the basket to the floor, and gestures to the boy to come over.

He walks over wordlessly, climbing up to kneel between them, biting his lip nervously.

“Is it time for me to leave, Emrys?” echoes through Merlin’s head, and he gives the boy a comforting smile, shaking his head slightly, before saying out loud:

“You’re staying with me, Mordred-”

The boy smiles slightly as he stares at Merlin in reverence, and Morgana quickly hides her questioning gaze. She could see that there was more between them than simple protectiveness over a child, and thankfulness for being saved, but she kept her thoughts to herself as Merlin continued:

“-but we can’t keep you hidden in here forever, so we’re going to tell people that you’re my younger brother, come to live with me. Is that alright?”

Mordred nods his head vigorously, and Merlin chuckles slightly as the boy’s grin grew:

“Ok. We’ll get you a haircut and tell Gaius the plan. Probably wait a few more days for things to settle down further, and then see how it goes, ok?”

Mordred nods once more, smile not leaving his face. Morgana bites her lip to stop herself from laughing at Merlin’s shocked face when the boy threw himself into the servant’s arms for a tight hug.

~

Merlin spends the next few days teaching Mordred all about Ealdor and his mother and Will, so that the boy could have at least a little knowledge on what was supposedly his home and family.

The next time Morgana came to visit, she brought a comb and a sharp pair of scissors, as well as a few more changes of clothes that looked less... Druid. By the time she left that evening, Mordred had much shorter hair, and a wide grin on his face at the prospect of finally being able to go outside (he was Druid after all, he needed trees and fresh air).

The letter had been sent home, and Merlin was expecting a reply any day now. The only thing left to worry about was how to hide Mordred’s Druid marking. It would be easy to cover with clothes, but Uther’s increasing paranoia meant that it would be best if they could find a more permanent solution.

Gaius suggested some sort of glamour spell fairly quickly, but Merlin was unwilling to cast one on the boy until he’d mastered it.

And THAT meant showing up to serve Arthur with ink all over his hands that he had tried and failed to cover.

Merlin had also realised with dawning horror, that he would have to tell Morgana the truth. She knew about the marking, and she was smart, there was no way that hiding it wasn’t something that had occurred to her. She would bring it up eventually, and how could Merlin explain without having to... explain??

Morgana was already risking her favour with the King, and frankly, her life, by protecting a Druid... she would do the same for Merlin, right? But Mordred hadn’t actually done any magic... BUT she’d always spoken against executions... BUT Merlin had lied and hidden it from her, his friend...

Hmm...

In the end, he’d decided he would just have to suck it up, and tell her. Fuck whatever that dragon said. After Kilgharrah’s last round of... advice, Merlin had been ignoring his calls. If there was an emergency, the cryptic bastard would tell him, and until then he could just sulk in that cave on his own.

That two weeks was also enough for Uther to become convinced that the mysterious Druid boy really was long gone, and to just forget about it. He was pissed of course, but talking about it and extending the search just highlighted that a child, barely eleven summers, had managed to evade all of his forces and that... did not cast him in a good light.

It took Merlin about two weeks to fully master the spell, which was longer than the three of them were hoping, but he was adamant that he perfect it before he cast it on Mordred, and Gaius was incredibly impressed at his ward’s determination.

Morgana was of course confused about why they kept pushing it back, she thought they were only going to wait a few days before they started introducing Mordred, but she trusted Merlin and saw no harm in waiting a little longer.

When Morgana arrived that evening, she could tell that Merlin was... anxious. They’d agreed on a specific day to make introductions but it wasn’t until the end of this week, it didn’t make any sense for Merlin to suddenly be nervous about it.

Mordred wasn’t quite as good at hiding his emotions, and didn’t even giggle like he normally did when Morgana came over, just stared at his “brother” anxiously.

Morgana rolled her eyes and huffed as she shut the door:

“Alright, Merlin. What is it? Spit it out.”

Merlin opened his mouth, about to come out with an excuse, before he snapped it shut again and took a deep breath.

It worried him, how easy, how automatic it was for him to lie, but that was a worry for another time.

Mordred reached up and took his hand, squeezing it, and Merlin looked down at him with a weak smile before sitting on the bed and gesturing that Morgana join him.

She looked at him worriedly, but settles where he gestures, and doesn’t acknowledge the way Mordred sits defensively between them.

The boy looks back at Merlin:

“Are you sure, Emrys?”

Merlin gives him another smile, and squeezes his shoulder slightly as he raises an eyebrow:

“I’m sure. And you need to get used to calling me Merlin at some point.”

Mordred pouts slightly, and Merlin ruffles his hair as he laughs, before looking back up at Morgana’s questioning stare.

He takes another deep breath, before slowly speaking:

“I... we’ve found a way to properly hide Mordred’s marking.”

Morgana looks taken aback, but relieved:

“Oh. Is that all? That’s good isn’t it? I have to admit, it was worrying me.”

Merlin gulps:

“Yeah it... it is good... it’s just, it involves... magic.”

Morgana raises her eyebrow, and nods slowly, as if it were obvious:

“I figured it would be. It’s not like it would be easy or reliable to cover it with make-up every morning, or hide it with clothes.-”

It’s Merlin’s turn to look taken aback now, and Mordred fixes her with an unreadable expression. Morgana continues:

“-The problem, lies in finding someone willing to do whatever spell it is. Someone we could trust wouldn’t share the secret, no matter what.”

Merlin grimaces slightly, more gulping, and taking yet another deep breath:

“We already have someone. Me.”

Morgana gasps slightly, and she’s vaguely aware of the brothers in front of her tensing up, but all she can focus on is the gold of Merlin’s irises.

The gold fades, and Merlin clears his throat, breaking her out of her stupor. She reaches over and punches Merlin harshly on the arm before getting up and beginning to pace, speechless.

Merlin and Mordred panic at first, but when she makes no moves towards the door in her pacing, they relax. That only lasts for a moment or two however, before she looks back to Merlin, furious:

“Are you thick Merlin? Why on earth would you learn magic in Camelot of all places?? Do you have a death wish!?”

Merlin laughs slightly, cheeks turning pink as he rubs the back of his neck:

“Actually uh... I was born with magic; I’ve always had it. My mother sent me here because she thought I would learn to control it better.”

Morgana looks incredulous as she continues to rant:

“What? With the fear of execution hanging over your head?! That’s not control, that’s terror.”

Merlin shrugs:

“It works though. My magic is mostly instinctual, the threat of torture by pyre sure as hell stops me from losing control when I’m angry or scared or whatever...”

Morgana huffs, crossing her arms and fixing him with a glare. Both Merlin and Mordred cower slightly as they are reminded of angry and disproving mothers; as if they were about to be scolded for getting their clothes dirty, or ruining their dinner with too many snacks.

She just stares at him for a minute, before she sags slightly, and begins chuckling at the boys’ fearful faces:

“You are ridiculous. But it’s far too late to persuade you to leave now. Does Arthur know?”

Merlin’s face morphs into a mournful frown, as he looks to the floor and mumbles:

“No. I wish I could tell him but... with Uther...”

Morgana sighs, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder:

“Uther won’t be here forever. We’ll just have to keep Arthur from turning into too much of a prat before he becomes King.-”

Merlin laughs at that, and looks up to give the woman a grateful smile. She returns his smile before continuing:

“-So, you can do the spell?”

Merlin winces slightly and gestures for Mordred to pull the collar of his shirt down, to reveal a blank patch of skin:

“I’ve actually already done it. It’ll stay there permanently until I take it off. Though we should keep checking, just in case.”

Morgana looks surprised, and smiles:

“What’s the problem then?-”

She rolls her eyes when Merlin looks at her incredulously:

“-Oh, come on Merlin. I’m not going to turn you in, you’re safe with me. You both are, and you always will be.”

The servant jumps up to give her a tight hug, which she quickly returns as Mordred nervously joins in. Morgana smiles to herself, and squeezes her boys tighter.

She may love Uther and Arthur, and she knew they loved her back, in their own way, but this? This was family.

~

The time finally came for Merlin to introduce his baby brother. Hunith had supposedly dropped him off late last night and left immediately, having to get back home quickly. 

Morgana had gone to gather Gwen and Arthur whilst Merlin and Mordred waited in their room (it was definitely their room now, instead of just Merlin’s).

It was early in the morning, and to say that Arthur was grumpy at being woken by Morgana instead of Merlin, was an understatement.

But he eventually caved, and dressed himself as he grumbled, allowing Morgana to drag him to meet Gwen (who was equally confused) before the three of them made their way to the Physician’s chambers.

Gaius was suspiciously absent, and Morgana knocked on Merlin’s door, before slowly opening it and walking in, Arthur and Gwen following her quickly.

Gwen was surprised at the sight of Merlin stood behind a child, hands protectively on his shoulders, but smiled and gave Mordred a soft wave in greeting.

Arthur however, froze, and stared at the boy with a shocked expression.

Morgana moved to stand next to Mordred, and took one of his hands as Merlin began to speak:

“Gwen, Arthur, I want you to meet my baby brother, Mordred. He’s come to live with me.”

Gwen waved again, and bent over to Mordred’s height:

“Hi Mordred, I’m Guinevere, but all my friends call me Gwen. I didn’t know that Merlin had a brother, but it’s lovely to meet you.”

Mordred gave her a small smile, and Merlin suppressed a chuckle as-

“I like her, Em- Merlin.”

-echoed through his head.

Arthur’s gaze moved away from Mordred finally, up to Merlin.

Merlin stared back at him blankly, but Arthur saw the way his jaw clenched as he moved a protective hand down, to pull Mordred closer to him.

The Prince let out a deep sigh, growling slightly as Gwen looked at him in confusion, and Morgana and Merlin stared at him challengingly.

He shook his head as his shoulders sagged, and he rubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands before looking back to Mordred with a strained smile:

“It’s nice to meet you, Mordred. My name’s Arthur.”

With that, Morgana smirks slightly, and Merlin relaxes. Gwen just rolls her eyes:

“Sorry about him Mordred, he doesn’t spend much time around people your age.”

Mordred gives her another smile, and Merlin glances to Gwen, before looking down at Mordred:

“Why don’t you go with Morgana and Gwen to see the city a little? Me and Arthur need to talk, I’ll catch up with you later, ok?”

Mordred turns around quickly, and grabs Merlin’s hand tightly:

“You promise??”

Gwen holds in an “awww” and Morgana hides her smile. Mordred rarely talks aloud (she’d been told of the mental link), but she’s glad to see he was feeling at least a little more comfortable.

Merlin crouches down, and pulls the boy into a tight hug, stroking his hair slightly as he stares straight at Arthur:

“I promise. I’ll never leave you for long Mordred.”

Arthur gulps at Merlin’s hard stare, but gives him an almost imperceptible nod, which Merlin returns as he stands up. Mordred gives him one more look as he takes one of Morgana’s hands, and one of Gwen’s, and follows them out of the room.

Morgana shuts the door quietly, and Arthur sighs again before looking at Merlin:

“What are you thinking Merlin?? You just thought I wouldn’t notice?”

Merlin crosses his arms, his glare still hard:

“No, I knew you would notice, I just had faith that you’re a better man than your father.”

Arthur is still deep in his “my father can do no wrong” faze, and takes great offense at that, taking a threatening step forward and growling:

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Merlin just huffs and raises an eyebrow slightly:

“I had assumed that you were not the type of man to have a child executed, just for existing.-”

Merlin copies Arthur’s step forward, raising his chin and continuing, his voice low and dangerous:

“-Did I assume correctly? Because there is nothing I wouldn’t do to protect that kid, Arthur. Nothing.”

Arthur stares at him incredulously, only managing to hold Merlin’s surprisingly confident stare for a few moments, before nodding and stepping back:

“Of course. He’s a child, Merlin, I won’t see him hurt, if I can help it.”

Merlin nods slowly, not looking away from Arthur as he softly says:

“I’ll hold you to that.-”

He walks around The Prince, opening the door and stepping halfway through before looking over his shoulder, and quietly saying to a confused Arthur:

“-If you truly believed that all magic is evil, and always corrupted, no matter what, then you wouldn’t care that he’s a child; you’d want him dead anyway. So perhaps think about your... prejudices, a little more deeply, maybe you’ll discover you are different to Uther in other ways as well.”

Before Arthur can even really process what Merlin said, the servant is shutting the door behind him, and rushing off to find his new brother.

~

OK SO!!! 

I really LOVED writing this, there will definitely be more parts, I just figured I should end it here before I got carried away

This series is finished!! (Links at the top <3 )

#bbc merlin #merthur #good morgana #prince arthur #eventual merthur #part one #morgana #guinevere #gwen #merlin/morgana friendship #child mordred #good mordred #mordred #uther #uther is a dick #the beginning of the end #bamf merlin #merlin is a top in this and arthur is forcefully made aware #bbc mordred #merlin adopts mordred #merlin accidentally-on-purpose becomes a brother/dad?? #arthur #arthur pendragon #uther pendragon #king uther #magic reveal #morgana knows about merlins magic #kilgharrah #kilgharrah is a dick #FUCK destiny

[eurynome827]

Bouquets & Bowties

I've been working on this delicious little prompt for a bit, and figured it would be perfect for HBC Kinktober '20 Day One - Public Sex! Thank you once again to @buckstaybucky​ for this and all the other fantastic HBC Drunk Drabbles prompts you gift to @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ - Goes without saying that this is 18+ ONLY!! I didn’t do a word count but it’s longer than my usual drabbles. WARNINGS: unprotected sex (don’t do that), language, dirty talk, one singular spank, maybe a tiny bit of choking if you really stare at it, praise kink (hi, it’s me.)

The tension had been building for MONTHS. Engagement party, food and wine tastings, Jack and Jill bachelor/bachelorette and shower - every pre-wedding event and get together had been leading up to finishing your respective speeches, raising two glasses of champagne and downing them before rushing out of the reception while trying to stay under the radar. Someone had to know what was going on. Steve and Natasha had probably figured it out by now. You and Bucky had left the room by different doors ten minutes apart but when he caught up with you outside the door to the bridal suite you grabbed the collar of his tux and pulled him inside, kicking the door shut. "Took you long enough," you scolded. "You're the one who said not to make it obvious- OH -" Bucky cut himself off, surprised by your strength as you shoved him against the wall and pressed your lips to his. Almost immediately he rolled you to the side so now your back was flush with the wall, and you giggled. "You know how long I've been waiting for this?" You asked him breathlessly, giving his bottom lip a little bite as you raised your hands to untie his bowtie, trembling a little as the silk slid through your fingers. "Yeah, about as long as I have," Bucky sassed, and you flicked your fingers against his throat after you unbuttoned a few buttons. "Fresh!" You couldn't help yourself from laughing, dragging him by his open bowtie to the bathroom door. "C'mere...as eager as we both are, I'd like to take a little time with you and not worry so much about getting caught." "Don't worry, doll," it was Bucky's turn to kick a door closed, as he smoothly turned the lock, "everyone's busy eating dinner, no one will bother us." "Famous last words," you teased, letting him back you up to the sink. Your fingers grasped the edge of the porcelain as his hands lifted your gown, pulling up the flowing fabric until you were thrilling to the touch of warm skin and cool metal brushing against your thighs. "Why try to jinx us?" Bucky grinned, biting his lip as one metal finger stroked over your wet panties and you moaned, closing your eyes. "Listen to that sweet sound," he purred, hooking his finger to pull the fabric aside and blessing you with his own growl as he felt your wetness without a barrier, "fuck, doll. You're so ready for me to ruin you, in this pretty dress with all these people outside." "You bet your ass I'm ready," you breathed out, catching his eye, "so quit stalling." His eyes twinkled and his hands grasped your waist, turning you so your eyes met his in the mirror and the skirt of your gown rested in the bowl of the sink, leaving your body open for Bucky to deliver one playful spank followed by your gasp and giggle. "Oh, you like that," he hummed, keeping his eyes on yours as he pressed your body closer to the sink with his own, his hands hurriedly undoing his tux pants. "I think I'm going to like everything you do to me, Bucky." His wolfish grin made you whine, and he pulled your panties to the side and pushed in, his eyes closing at your tightness and your hips rolling to meet his thrust, urging him on. His head fell forward, his lips kissing your neck softly followed by a little bite - and you knew he'd leave a mark that everyone could see later but you didn't care. Your soft breaths and low whimpers mixed with his husky groans in the small room, and you were both so lost in each other that it was honestly a miracle that you noticed the door open and the voices in the adjacent suite. Your body tensed and Bucky bit his lip hard to contain his reaction, as you both froze, wide eyes staring at each other in the mirror. "I don't know where she could have gone to," you heard Pepper's voice. "I'm sure she's fine. I paid attention when she bustled you before, I'm sure I can fix it." Nat's voice was smooth and calming, a perfect opposite of your wild panic, chest heaving and sharp but nearly silent breaths as Bucky soothed you with his metal hand at your collarbone and a soft hushing noise in your ear. You took as deep a breath as you could, leaning into his sturdy hand and not daring to look away, putting yourself entirely in his hands. "That's my girl," Bucky whispered in your ear, holding you tight and slowly moving his hips against yours again, "good girl." You couldn't help it, your eyes drifted closed and you took in as quiet a breath as you could, a fresh wave of arousal flooding around Bucky inside you at his words. "Oh, you really like that," more whispers made their way into your ear, "damn, baby, gonna drench me. You like that? You like being my good girl?" You nodded, vigorously, and opened your eyes. "Be my good girl then, don't make a sound." Nodding again, your fingers clenched on the edge of the sink as Bucky held you and fucked into you, as silent as you could both manage - except he couldn't stop himself from a nonstop soft whisper of filth into your ear, nearly making you lose your mind as he took you apart. "That's right, babygirl - just like that - so good for me - I can't wait to get you under me in my bed tonight, I need to taste you and hear you and make you scream..." His speed was increasing, his hand rubbing at your clit and you tightened around him, your eyes going wide and your mouth opening and his metal hand quickly covered it as you came, trapping your noises and biting back his own as he reached his peak, filling you as Nat finished fixing Pepper's bustle in the suite outside the door. Pepper wondered about your whereabouts one more time and you could almost hear the smirk on Nat's face as she remarked that you would probably be back soon. "I think she's just about finished." Shit. The door to the suite closed and Bucky uncovered your mouth, holding you up as you gasped in a breath. "Damn it," you muttered, "we were so quiet!" Bucky laughed quietly, burying his face in the back of your neck and pressing a few kisses to your heated skin. "There's no way she didn't know where we were going, you know that." You giggled, nodding a little. "You're probably right. Well, I hope she enjoyed it." "I know I did," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours once again in the mirror, holding you tight as he softened inside you. "Me too." Your breath stuttered a little, feeling naked under his gaze and wishing with all your might that you were. "Did you mean what you said? You want to get together again later, when the party's over?" "Of course, baby," he groaned a little as he pulled out, stepping back to let you turn around and straighten your clothes as he tucked himself back into his pants. "I want more, and I hope you do, too.” He sounded more unsure than you could ever imagine him being, and you pulled him closer by his open bowtie, kissing him softly and tangling your tongue with his. "I want everything you want to give me." "Good," Bucky pressed his forehead to yours and you sighed happily. "Now, I hope you know how to tie this again," he caressed your hands, still holding the ends of his tie, "because Steve had to tie this for me."

#hbc kinktober '20 #Bucky Barnes x Reader #HBC Drunk Drabbles

[tothemeadow]

Kinktober day 6 scenario for 6 eyed daddy Kokushibou? :) gender neutral or fem reader, your choice 💕

Day 6: angry/hate fucking / hair pulling / biting

warnings: NSFW, scratching, possessive/jealous behaviors, semi-public sex, creampie

words: 1,451

(a/n): art is not mine

Kokushibou’s always been the jealous type.

His icy, stoic expression usually says the opposite, and his mysterious personality often leads others to believe all the wrong things about him. Nothing can bother him. Nobody can affect him. He simply follows Muzan’s orders and acts as the perfect guard dog.

Oh, but how wrong they are.

He’s never liked the relationships you have with the other demons. Dare he say it, but it’s almost like you’ve made friends. In this world, being a demon and being friendly with others simply does not work out. If you’re friendly with others, you die. That’s just the way it works.

He’s never liked the way Douma practically hangs from you whenever you two are together, his arms around your waist and his face buried in the crook of your neck. You constantly roll your eyes, yes, but Kokushibou can tell that you’re secretly thriving at all the attention. Even Akaza has taken a liking towards you, and that in itself says a lot.

He knows he’s acting obsessive. Selfish. After all, the only thing he wants is to rip you away from the others and have you all to himself. He hasn’t felt this strongly for anyone in years. It’s a miracle he even knows what affectionate feelings are anymore. He guesses new tricks can be taught to old dogs after all. It’s only slightly ridiculous, falling for someone like you, but he doesn’t mind it as much as he should. You’re colleagues, nothing more. But he craves for something more.

The jealousy worsens whenever Muzan is around. Even his lord’s eyes linger on your form, a spark of interest glistening in his blood colored eyes. It makes Kokushibou sick to the stomach.

Maybe he should count his blessings. You talk to him, much like you talk to the others, but you’re typically a lot less hostile towards him. You catch his eyes across the room, offer him tiny smiles. If he didn’t know better, than he’d think you were still a lowly human. Gentle feelings and being carnivorous beasts do not mix well.

It’s a brightly lit night when his dreams come true.

He should consider himself a pervert with the way he stares at your exposed neck, the little stripe of leg showing through the seam of your yukata. It’s a rare occasion whenever he seeks out your manor, wishing to be in your company. Like Douma, mindless humans do everything at your beck and call. It must be nice to be a bloodthirsty siren, having attention on you always and delectable meals on hand.

“Kokushibou-dono,” you murmur into the night’s wind.

Turning to you, all six of his eyes narrow. Your skin looks absolutely delicious under the moon, the bluish hue doing wonders for the twinkle in your eyes. He’s aware of how tense he is. He doesn’t doubt for a second that you notice it as well.

He doesn’t know who’s the first to make a move. His mind reels to catch up with the fact that your lips are finally against his, your clawed fingers digging into his scalp and yanking at the strands of his hair. He moans throatily at your touch; he’s shameless as he touches your body, his hands slipping your yukata loose. Another moan goes swallowed by you as he realizes your body is completely bare underneath.

You claw at his neck and shoulders, restless in your movements as you practically tear his clothes into pieces. Heavy breaths echo into the night, but neither of you care. You can’t be bothered by the fact that anyone could step outside and see the two of you in such an intimate embrace on the engawa.

Tearing his hair loose from his ponytail, you straddle his lap. Your hands trail down his abdomen, tracing the divots of his abs and the sharp lines of his pectorals. You’re absolutely hot to the touch; Kokushibou’s mind swims, ragged moans leave his lips. He doesn’t remember being this vocal in his entire life. He doesn’t care, though, not when you’re grinding against him like that.

Soon enough, he has you on your back, your legs propped on his shoulders. Throwing your head back, you let out the most sinful moan that’s ever graced his ears. Kokushibou takes the chance to mouth at your neck, his lips and tongue running over your pounding vein. He can’t stop the thoughts from coming; has Douma seen you like this? Akaza? Muzan? He growls at the mere idea of others having you pinned beneath them, kissing your lips, and touching you in the most intimate parts.

His teeth sink into your skin without another thought. You cry out, your back arching into him. Kokushibou’s fingers grip onto your hair, yank your head back to show him more skin. He’s merciless with his markings, each puncture of the skin making blood spurt into his mouth.

His cock dips inside you, causing you to scream at the intrusion. Your velvety walls immediately clench onto him, making him grunt into your neck. You’re so tight. Moaning into your neck, he inches his cock inside you; your walls convulse around him, eagerly suck him in further. Was it the same for when the others fucked you? It had to be the only reason why they were so intrigued by you. Like Kokushibou, they had to be utterly obsessed with you.

A monstrous growl rips itself from his throat as he sets a harsh pace. You have no choice but to take it; you moan like a bitch in heat, the claws of your nails scratching his shoulder blades. Kokushibou fucks into you cruelly, the snap of his hipbones sharp against your thighs.

“Do the others get to see you like this?” Kokushibou snarls. “Do the others get to fuck you like this? Do you moan like a bitch for them, too?”

“It’s funny that you’re jealous,” you huff. You scratch even harder at his skin, drawing blood. “Fuck me like you mean it and maybe I’ll tell you.”

Kokushibou snaps his teeth at you. Redoubling his efforts, he thrusts into you faster, harder. You clench around him, buck your hips in an attempt to match his pace. His hold on you is an iron grip; he refuses to let you slide away from him, even if your back burns from the friction. You’re his for the taking and he’s not letting you get away.

“Fuck, Kokushibou-dono,” you groan. “Your cock – shit – it fucks me so good. More. Give me more.”

Kokushibou fucks into you like a rabid animal. “Scream my name,” he grits. “Let everyone know who you belong to.”

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes into the night. It’s obscenely loud; for a moment, Kokushibou wonders why nobody has ventured outside to see what all the commotion’s about, but he figures it has something to do with your blood art. You keen and cry out his name; in the moonlight, he can see tears running down your cheeks. Pride swells in his chest, licks at his heart with its flame. He’s the reason behind your blinding pleasure. Nobody else can make you feel this way.

“Kokushibou, Kokushibou,” you chant. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! There, there! Fuck, I’m so close-“

Once more, Kokushibou finds your mouth. The kiss is wild, full of raw passion. Your tongues slide messily against each other, teeth clinking, but you don’t care. It’s so fucking hot and messy and-

With a high-pitched cry, you’re cumming. Your walls squeeze even tighter around him and leave him as a panting mess. Kokushibou fucks you through your orgasm, his fingers violently rubbing your sex.

“Cum in me,” you tell him. “I swear to everything high and mighty, fucking do it.”

You’ve just granted his greatest wish with those words. After a couple of well-aimed thrusts, Kokushibou pushes himself over the edge, a ragged groan breaking from the depths of his chest. Hot fluids fill your insides as his cock twitches inside you. He continues his movements, filling you with his cum and pushing it further in you.

You’re shaking violently by the time he finally pulls out. Your puffy hole leaks with his cum, streams of white traveling down your asscheeks. Kokushibou’s eyes follow the trail and his tongue darts out, sweeping across his lips. Blood and bitemarks cover your neck, all beautifully red and beginning to swell. The both of you know you can seal the marks with ease, but the fact that you choose not to stirs something deep within Kokushibou’s chest.

“You’re mine,” he growls. “You got it? No fucking around with the others.”

You throw him a foxy smile. “Whatever you say, Kokushibou-dono.”

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #kokushibou x reader #kny kokushibou #kinktober #kinktober 2020 #tothemeadow's kinktober

[one-leaf-grimoire]

Five Birthdays

summary » five birthdays from the life of lisa petalon.

warnings » light angst in one part

note » LISA'S BIRTHDAY IS TOMORROW! But I couldn't wait to post this one-shot lol. Illustrations included!

age 7 » sweet and bitter

“Happy birthday!!”

Lisa blinked slowly as her dad appeared from the kitchen, carrying something on a platter. He was covered with flour, egg stains on his shirt, but he was smiling wider than he had for a while. Her aunt and cousin giggled at the sight, clapping from where they sat next to Lisa at the table.

“What is that?”

“Look at it!” Her father grinned as he set it down in front of her. It was clear that it was some kind of food, maybe a fancy type of bread, but it was covered in some sort of shiny coating. “It’s a cake… a birthday cake! I realized that we never made one for you, so I decided to do it this time. Seven is a big age, after all!”

“A cake…” Lisa’s eyes lit up. “A cake! Wow!” In their little town in the woods, they foraged for most of their food, so Lisa was more used to the gamey taste of turkey, potatoes, and berry juice. Confections like cake were rare.

Her dad chuckled, crouching next to his daughter’s chair and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “It’s all yours, Lisa. Dig in!”

Lisa nodded, eagerly grabbing her fork and taking a big scoop of cake. It was soft, easy to cut; her father did a great job baking it. But before she tasted it, she paused.

“Wait… where is mom?”

The silence in the moments following the question should have told Lisa everything she needed to know. But she was just 7… she had not yet realized why her mother failed to acknowledge any of her birthdays.

“She… she’s tired.” Her father exchanged a glance with her aunt. Out of everyone here, he was the most weary, but he willed himself to smile again before turning back to look back into his daughter’s eyes; eyes that matched his own.

His daughter was almost his mirror image, with her black eyes, her jagged brown hair, and the power she inevitably would discover one day.

But he smiled anyway. Because she was his pride and joy. She was a miracle.

“But the rest of us are all here to celebrate. So let’s dig in!” He reached down and ruffled her hair.

Lisa grinned, giving him a nod before finally taking the first bite.

“Ah! It’s so sweet!”

age 19 » anything you want

Lisa jumped a little in surprise as someone tapped her on the shoulder. She was standing by one of the shelves of books in the royal library, a place that she had been frequenting more and more these past few weeks. She turned around towards the feeling, a little perplexed when she saw that she was still alone. Huh? That’s weird, I don’t think I imagined that-

“Over here!”

She turned the other way, her heart skipping a beat when she saw none other than Julius there, leaning against the edge of the shelf, a place that he was definitely not only a moment ago. But Lisa couldn’t bring herself to be annoyed, despite the fright. “Oh, hi.”

“Hi.” Julius smiled, his eyes avoiding hers for a moment before he straightened up to walk over to her side. “I see you’re hard at work again, any discoveries?”

“N...Not yet.” Lisa quickly looked back down at the book in her hand, trying not to seem too nervous. She would have thought that she would be more used to being in his presence, since they had been meeting up here often to sift through records for any information about Lisa’ magic mark. But that wasn’t the case…”There are so many books, we might never find it, even if it’s here.”

“Well, I just finished my work for the day. I can be your helper for the rest of the evening, if you’d like~”

Lisa almost hid her face in her book as her face heated up. Help!!! Why did he say it like that- “Um, actually-” Lisa closed the book with a soft snap. “I was about to head out.”

“Oh.” There was a hint of disappointment in the Wizard King’s voice. “You have plans?”

“Yeah, actually…” Lisa smiled a little. “It’s my birthday! Yami and William wanted to go celebrate tonight.”

“Your birthday?!” Julius’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh- I had no idea! You should have told me, I would have gotten you a present!”

“P-Present!? No way!” Lisa shook her head, her smile falling. “I-I couldn’t accept a present from you, I mean- It wouldn’t be right for me to expect something, you know-”

“Nonsense! I’m your research assistant, remember!”

Julius winked, and Lisa felt that she was about to pass away right then and there.

“... I guess so… but still!” Lisa scowled playfully. “You don’t need to get me anything… I…”

“I feel happy enough just to be close to you. That’s the only present I need.”

Of course, Lisa couldn’t say something so embarrassing.

“I don’t need presents, really. I’d rather just spend time with my friends and other… people I care about.”

Julius’s eyes softened a bit, a light blush appearing on his cheeks. “Oh… I see.” His smile quickly reappeared. “But still, I insist! How about this- You can take a book in this library home with you. Permanently.”

Lisa’s eyes widened. “Really? But, isn’t that stealing?”

“I’m the Wizard King, and I’m saying it’s ok. Plus, I’ll cover the overdue fees.” He grinned, closing his eyes for a moment. “How does that sound?”

“...alright. Thank you!” Lisa quickly put the book away, biting her lip to keep from smiling too widely. A birthday present from the Wizard King! More importantly… a present from Julius… “There’s so many books here, though… any recommendations…”

“Actually, there’s one I was hoping you would take.” Julius cleared his throat. “One moment. I’ll be right back.”

He quickly turned away and disappeared down a different aisle. A moment later, he reappeared, holding a book with an elaborate leather cover. “Um.. see for yourself.” He held it out for Lisa to take. It was heavy, but the texture of the cover felt nice under her fingers. Her eyes fell on the title, and she let out a soft gasp.

“Origins of Magic: The sources of mana in this world and the Mystery of its usage. By Julius Novachrono…”

“Heh, I wrote that when I was still captain.” Julius chuckled nervously, awaiting her reaction. “I might have to write a second edition, I’ve learned so much since I became Wizard King… maybe you can be my research assistant for that one.”

“This is amazing… I can’t wait to read it!” Lisa grinned, looking back up at his face. “Thank you, Julius.”

It still felt strange to say his name. This man was revered by almost everyone, yet here Lisa was, receiving a present from him. And a very personal present, at that.

“You’re welcome… let me know what you think.” Julius smiled, gazing down at her face.

There’s so much more I want to say to you… Lisa…

When Lisa got home soon after, she had a few minutes before William and Yami wanted to meet up. She collapsed on her bed, face down. After a moment of silence, she let out a long squeal, muffled by her pillow.

Oh god… I need to stop hanging out with him… or I’m going to fall in love for real.

But… maybe that wouldn’t be so bad…

age 23 » forgotten nights

“Ouch… ouch ouch…”

Lisa rolled over, consciousness finally filtering back into her weary brain. It was strange at first, unfamiliar to Lisa.

Was I… sleeping? How is that possible?

She let out a soft groan.

I haven't slept in 3 years-

Suddenly, pain throbbed in the back on her head, and Lisa let out a cry.

Oh… not sleeping, then... Was I bludgeoned?

"Oh! There, there, don't sit up!"

Hands gently grabbed her shoulders to push her back into the sheets when she tried to raise her head. Lisa winced at the feeling, blinking her eyes open. Her eyesight was foggy, and it took a few moments for the other person's face to come into focus. "Oh… Julius? What on Earth is happening-" She cringed and squeezed her eyes shut again at another pang of agony. "Did I get in a fight?"

Julius sighed, glad that she was awake and recovering. "Sort of… here-" He picked up the glass of water he had been keeping on the bedside table. He carefully held it up to her mouth, and she immediately started sipping away at it. "How do you feel?"

"I'm in pain… tell me, what happened?" Lisa scowled up at him, sensing how hesitant he was to speak further. "What do you mean, I sort of got in a fight?"

"Well… I'm surprised you didn't figure it out already," Julius chuckled nervously. "You… you weren't knocked out. You're hungover…"

All the sudden, everything flooded back.

------

"BEHOLD; THE MIGHTY POWER OF THE WIZARD KING!!!!"

Lisa cackled wickedly, one foot planted on the edge of the bar and the other precariously balanced on her stool. In one hand, she gripped a glass of mead. The other formed a fist, blue fire circling in tandem with time magic. "Anyone who can beat me can take my title! I'll share this power with you!"

There was a roar of approval from the other patrons at the bar. Yami howled with laughter and hit the bar surface with the palm of his hand a few times.

SMACK SMACK SMACK

"That's hilarious!!! What are you gonna do if you lose!!?"

"I won't." Lisa smirked raising her glass back to her lips and chugging it in one go.

"Lisa!! Get down from there-" Fuegoleon tapped her shoe, frowning. He was only a little red in the face, not nearly as drunk as the others. Jack was giggling next to Yami, and Charlotte and William were already asleep at a table in the corner. "You're going to get hurt, and-"

"HEY!" Lisa's foot lashed out, and she wobbled dangerously. "I knew you wanted my job! Come at me, then!"

"What? No!" Fuegoleon stumbled back. "You're acting like my sister!"

"Yeah? Then fight me!"

Lisa stepped forward, ready to attack- however, she was still up on the bar. Her foot didn't land anywhere… and she fell

"LISA!"

Fuegoleon jumped forward, arms outstretched, ready to catch her. However, to his surprise, the elderly bartender rushed in front of him. Lisa fell into his arm, limp as a ragdoll.

"Dear me- I'm glad I was keeping an eye on this one." He chuckled before turning back to Fuegoleon. "Thank you for trying to keep her out of trouble- but I'll get her somewhere safe."

"Oh- okay." Fuegoleon watched the man carry her away, then reappear a few moments later.

-------

"Oh god…"

Lisa buried her head in her hands, her face bright red. "No way… no way I did all that!"

Julius chuckled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer to him. "No harm was done! And you had fun, didn't you?"

Lisa shrugged. "I don't really remember…" her hands fell back into her lap. "It sucks… I used to be able to drink all night and feel fine… but after we formed our Dyad…"

Of course, her alcohol tolerance wasn't the only thing about her body that had changed. She couldn't eat, or sleep, or… worst of all-

"I know. It'll be alright. It just takes some getting used to, right?"

Lisa nodded, and felt his lips press against the side of her head. Her eyes fluttered closed for just a moment.

"Why was I at the bar with all of them, anyway?"

Julius's eyes popped back open in surprise. "Huh? You don't remember?" His lips twitched into a smile. "I suggested the outing in the first place… thought you'd want to have a celebration with your friends."

Lisa blinked. "Celebration?"

She was still confused, until Julius chuckled and gave her a gentle squeeze.

"Happy birthday, Lisa."

age 27.1 » the life of an insect

It stayed hot all the way until September. The sun blazed down into the garden, unhindered by clouds. The bright atmosphere contrasted with the dark shadows that were quickly closing around the Clover Kingdom.

It’s so loud…

Lisa spent most of her time alone, now. Part of her wanted to surround herself with people, with all those she loved. But even then, she knew it would just make herself feel worse. Seeing their faces, watching them talk, and laugh… it just forced her to draw further and further away.

I’m not like you… I never was.

So, she spent her days alone. It would be easier for them if she stayed away. Even if it hurt.

Yet it was still so loud.

Cicadas screamed from every corner of the forest, swarming the treetops by the million. Their song permeated almost every corner of the kingdom, allowing none to escape.

In a way… it was almost nostalgic.

Lisa stood at the base of a tree, pausing her walk for just a moment. Above her was a group of cicadas, circling each other on the bottom of a high branch, no doubt evaluating each other to decide if they wanted to mate or not. Their song was earsplitting, but Lisa was already numb. It didn’t bother her.

In her hometown, out in the woods, the cicadas were a fact of life, appearing every summer without fail. They were like a booming voice, nature’s fury swept across the land.

Yet… they were fragile.

They slept underground for 17 years. Then, for just one day, they rose up to the heavens, singing their glorious song. They soared, they mated, they laid their eggs…

And then they died.

They fell back to earth, their voices and bodies spent. Their last act would be to plant the seeds of their offspring, before the dirt reclaimed them.

Their lives… were fragile.

Utterly and completely meaningless.

Two of the cicadas lost their grip on the tree. They fell down into the leaf litter, letting out one last scream before they went silent forever.

But at one point, they had screamed. And the whole world heard them.

I can’t even do that. How I wish I could just scream… but I can’t.

A moth could not scream. It would never see the sun. They just fluttered through the night, like a ghost. They were swallowed silently by that darkness.

This is my last birthday.

Lisa lowered her gaze, before restarting her lonely stroll.

At the very least… I got to see the sunset first.

age 27.2 » the future ahead of us

Summer melted into fall at last. The heat evaporated, leaving cool winds to quench the thirsty land.

The winds were gentle; like a nourishing pair of hands. Lisa closed her eyes, sinking into the feeling of those hands touching her. They brought her comfort, and they eased her pain.

They belonged to her.

“Just a few more months…”

Julius whispered the words, so soft that Lisa could barely hear them. But that was okay; they weren’t meant for her.

“I can’t wait to meet you.”

Lisa’s hand moved to run through his hair. Julius let out a happy sigh, his eyes flickering closed. He could hear two heartbeats with the ear pressed against his wife’s stomach, harmonizing with the sweet sound of her breathing. Life thrived there, and life was thriving within him as well. Never before had he felt so much excitement, so much anxiety. It was a rare, beautiful thing; an opportunity that had almost slipped away; like a stunning sunset that you didn’t notice until it was too late.

But it’s not too late.

He pulled back a little, just enough to stare up into Lisa’s eyes.

Because of you… your strength… your sacrifice. Because of you, we have this life. We have a second chance.

I won’t ever let that chance slip away.

“Her birthday is going to be after both of ours… a December baby.” Julius said happily. “A “Joy” to the world, you could say.”

Lisa let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head a little at the pun. “A joy to all of us, for sure.”

She watched as Julius nodded, his expression drowsy, before he lowered his head to listen once again. He couldn’t get enough of the sounds; the sounds of his daughter, and the sounds of his wife.

“She’s a joy… and a gift.”

The world was changing. The future ahead was uncertain. But Fate was alive and well; Julius and Lisa would always be bound to it.

Whatever fate had in store for them, they would be together. And they would have this child, who they had wanted more than anything else on this Earth.

“I love you, Lisa.”

“I love you, Julius.”

It was the happiest birthday Lisa ever had.

#black clover #black clover oc #julius novachrono #julius novachrono x oc #julius novachrono x reader #oc: lisa #bc oc #writing #my art

[wanderinginksplot]

Nobody Listens to Kix

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Case 00627: Scorch

Kix glanced up at the familiar sound of the medbay doors opening, frowning as he saw two commando troopers walking in. Their distinctively styled helmets gave an air of uniformity, but the designs painted on them spoke of very different personalities.

The commando wearing the helmet marked with red, jagged lines - almost suggesting a handprint - was half-supporting, half-dragging another commando with a simple, gray-green helmet painted with white and yellow details. Kix studied both new arrivals, but couldn't find any visible injuries on either.

"What happened here?" Kix asked, already starting toward the men.

"Scorch here blew himself up," the red-painted commando answered, with a motion of his helmet that clearly said he was rolling his eyes. "Di'kut."

"I did not!" the injured Scorch said defensively, turning to address Kix. "I had a minor disagreement with a wall."

"Yeah?" the red-painted commando asked, "What were the arguments?"

"Whether or not the blast from a thermal detonator plus my own fabulous aim would make the wall go 'boom'," Scorch replied, clearly grinning under his helmet.

"Congratulations on winning your argument, sir," Kix said dryly, already promising himself to blow up the Resolute and everyone inside before he would let Scorch and Hardcase meet. "Let's shed the armor and see how much damage that wall's rebuttal caused."

The two commandos completed their half-walk, half-drag journey to the first bunk in the medbay and Scorch leaned up against the mattress, stifling a pained groan. The red-painted one, obviously fed up with his brother's antics, unceremoniously lifted and deposited Scorch on the bed.

"Come on, Sev!" the commando complained loudly. "You know I'm injured and delicate."

"It doesn't count as an injury if you've always been stupid," Sev told him. "I'm going to report back to Boss."

"You're going to leave me here, alone and hurt?" Scorch asked dramatically. His only reply was the medbay door closing behind Sev. He shook his head and told the door, "Well, that was rude."

The door seemed unsympathetic.

Kix cleared his throat, wondering if he should crank the scanner high enough to scan for brain injuries, when Scorch turned back to him. He pulled off his gray and white commando helmet, grinned, and stuck out a hand. "Scorch."

"I gathered," Kix replied. "I'm Kix."

"Good, I'm in the right place," Scorch said, heaving an exaggerated sigh of relief as he began stripping off the rest of his armor. "But what is the best medic in the GAR doing attached to the 501st?"

"The best medic," Kix repeated skeptically, scanning the now de-armored commando.

"Oh, yeah. I've heard the stories," Scorch told him, eyes wide and sincere, though they sparkled with an edge of barely there mischief. "Granted, mostly from the pilot on the way here, but still."

"Troopers like to talk. And as for why the 501st…" Kix let some of his constant fond exasperation come through, "no one gets in more trouble or hurts themselves in stranger ways than them."

"And you like to treat them," Scorch summed up, the look on his face more intense than the situation called for. Kix was on-edge before the commando spoke again. "Makes you feel powerful, doesn't it? Makes you feel like you're better than them, more than just a regular trooper."

"Makes me feel like I've got one more living brother," Kix corrected sharply.

Scorch raised his hands in a gesture speaking of an innocence that his sparkling eyes belied. "Hey, I had to make sure you weren't one of those power-trip troopers."

Kix shook his head and silently went to gather the supplies he would need to treat his patient, unwilling to continue an insulting conversation. However, since the commando had started it… He turned to meet Scorch's eyes. "If we're asking uncomfortable questions, let me ask one."

Scorch made a beckoning gesture with his less-injured hand, as if he were inviting Kix to continue.

"Why do you sound different from every other trooper, but look exactly like the rest of us?" It was something he had been wondering since Scorch took off his helmet, but he had been too polite to ask. At least, until the commando had accused him of treating men for the ego boost. As if it did wonders for his ego to be vomited on, covered in blood, to need to help his brothers to the 'fresher, to hold their hands as they took their last breath-

"I'm an excellent mimic," Scorch answered, using Kix's own inflection. Kix stared at him steadily until he continued in his normal offbeat voice. "Sometimes, a situation calls for a voice to be different so we don't sound like normal clone troopers, no matter how much we look like them. Delta Squad is full of differences. Boss has a thicker accent than most native Mandalorians, Fixer has worked to speak the most pure Basic, and Sev's vocal cords are damaged. Me, I just talk this way because I want to."

"Yeah, you can never meet Hardcase," Kix muttered to himself, fighting a shudder at the ridiculous accent the 501st trooper would be sure to put on as a result.

"What was that?" Scorch asked.

"I said, oh excellent mimic, that you've bruised your ribs, pulled a hamstring, and most of the left side of your body will be covered in bruises for the next few weeks, maybe less if you can take a couple of days to rest up." Kix frowned down at the datapad showing the scanner's results. "You managed not to break anything, which is - frankly - a miracle."

"Commando armor," Scorch told him with a sharp rap on his chestplate, wincing as the movement strained his injuries.

"Bruised. Ribs." Kix repeated, biting the end off each word so that the commando would be sure to understand him. "I'll issue you some pain meds, but the most you can do to improve your recovery time is to sleep as much as possible and stay hydrated. Most importantly-"

Kix cut himself short as the medbay door opened and Scorch instinctively turned to see the new arrivals, hissing in pain at the twisting motion. "-don't twist or move your body in unusual ways," Kix finished, giving a perfunctory salute to the commando sergeant who stepped up to the bed.

"How is the patient?" the sergeant asked. Despite Scorch's overly casual manner, Kix had to admit that the commando had given an accurate description of his squadmates and their voices. This one with the thick Mando'a accent must be Boss.

With a shrug to answer the sergeant's question, Kix told him, "Not much I can do, actually."

"Told you those thermal dets would kill you some day," the rough-voiced Sev said to Scorch with no small amount of satisfaction.

"What? No," Kix told him, nettled by the idea that a patient of his could die from such minor injuries. "Scorch is covered in bruises and he pulled a few muscles. Nothing life-threatening, but they aren't injuries I can do much for. I'm issuing pain meds, but he could stand a few days of bed rest, sir."

Boss nodded while Scorch looked horrified. "I can't stay on bed rest!"

The last commando, the non-accented Fixer, sounded irritated by his squadmate. "Six-Two, you can't just choose which orders to follow. If Three-Eight says you're on bed rest, that's where you'll be unless you want a court-martial."

Scorch looked pleadingly at Kix. "I could die from my injuries, right, Kix? Even Fixer wouldn't try to boss around a dying brother."

"Er... " Kix trailed off, glancing around at the group of commandos. "Bruises have a notoriously low fatality rate, Scorch."

"I think his vocal cords may have been damaged," Sev observed. "Could you order a total lack of speaking for the foreseeable future? For medical reasons?"

"We'd make it worth your while," Fixer wheedled.

"Is it too late to say I don't want any visitors?" Scorch asked, though even that sounded like a joke.

"We probably should leave," Boss agreed, cutting through Sev and Fixer's gloating with a simple reminder of, "Lots of reports to write."

"Ugh. Really, sir? For a self-inflicted injury?"

"I was having a good day, Boss."

Before he left, Boss patted Scorch gently on the shoulder. "I'm glad you're okay, Scorch. Rest up or we'll leave you behind on our next mission."

"Kix?" Kix glanced over at the commando sergeant, one brow lifting in silent question. "Make sure he rests. Sedate him or strap him down if you need to."

With one last threatening look in Scorch's direction, Boss left the medbay. Kix silently held out the pain meds for Scorch, passing him a cup of water at the proper time.

"You're good to sleep now," Kix told the commando. "If the pain gets bad again, let me know and I'll increase your dosage."

Scorch nodded and had just settled back against the pillow when the medbay door opened and Kix's heart nearly stopped. He walked briskly to the front of the medbay, making small pushing motions at the new arrival. "Hardcase, get out of here. You're fine."

"You don't even know what's wrong yet," Hardcase pouted.

"Hardcase?" Scorch asked, sitting up with a manic interest gleaming in his eyes.

"Yeah?" Hardcase asked, leaning to peer around Kix's shoulder. "Whoa, a commando! I heard you guys get to deal with more explosives than anyone!"

"You ever juggled thermal detonators?" Scorch asked, giving Kix an innocent shrug when the medic glared.

"No!" Hardcase said, pushing past Kix to perch by Scorch's bedside, wearing a look of utter fascination.

In only moments, the two were swapping stories, each trying to outdo the other while both seemed impressed by the other's exploits. Kix groaned. Force willing, he wouldn't have much to do with Scorch after this, but he already expected a wild number of injuries in Hardcase's near future.

---

A/N - First off, I want to apologize to... well, just everyone. For those who are not familiar with Republic Commando, you're probably a bit confused about who these guys are and why they're here. I read a fic featuring the characters in a minor role and proceeded to inhale everything I could find with them in it. For those who are familiar with Republic Commando, I would like to apologize for any errors in characterization, background, etc. Sidebar: if you know of a good fic featuring Delta Squad, please share the name of it with me!

Please reblog this work! It helps me grow my readership!

#Nobody Listens to Kix #star wars the clone wars #star wars #republic commando #clone trooper kix #republic commando scorch #republic commando sev #republic commando fixer #republic commando boss #sergeant boss #clone trooper hardcase #clone troopers deserve better #one-shot #but part of a series #more to come #please reblog

[thgreatestblue]

wherever you stray (i follow)

➜ pairing: giyuu tomioka x tsuguko!reader ➜ warnings: manga spoilers ➜ words: 2.2k ➜ a/n: english is not my native language, please be kind <3 ➜ ao3

summary: When the final battle started, your feet moved before you could think — hoping fate was on your side. You needed to find Giyuu.

I.

As the night fell, all it took was an explosion coming from Oyakata-sama’s house to break the illusion that everything was fine, that they still had time. In a blink of an eye everything changed. And you found yourself running.

It was torturing, knowing that no matter what, everything led to this moment and there was nothing you, or anyone, could do about it.  A cruel string of fate attached to your life and everyone around you. You had hoped, even prayed — something you’re not used to. Anything to make the outcome of this battle better than everyone expected it. It was the end, for better or for worse. You weren’t ready to let it go just yet, though.

Your feet moved quickly, your thoughts even faster. Musan’s castle was filled with demons and traps, but nothing you couldn’t handle. After all, you’ve been training with the Water Pillar, Giyuu Tomioka, for about a year.

It had been a miracle; Giyuu accepting you in his life so easily. You were sure that he was going to deny your request, considering that he was so closed off from everyone else, even the Pillars. He never had a Tsuguko before. And on top of that, his reputation wasn’t the best either, the rumors could easily paint a terrible picture of him, one that many choose to believe. But not you.

Even though his portrait was poorly drawn, you knew something had changed in him when he came back from a mission a few years ago. You didn’t consider yourself good at reading people, but it was crystal clear  — at least for you  — that he had seen something that had changed the way he carried himself.

Maybe it was because you always had your eyes on him whenever you had the rare opportunity to see him pass by. Your friends would pick on you for being so obvious. You couldn’t help though. It was the way Giyuu graciously carried himself, the elegance and calmness of his movements would always leave you mesmerized. But most important, his deep blue eyes, although always in a blank stare, would always make you think how much prettier they would be, only if it held any kind of emotion.

At some point it, you didn’t know if it was just admiration or if there was something else below the surface.

One day, by accident, you bumped into him. And you noticed the way his gaze was somehow more intense. The way his shoulder seemed to be carrying something even heavier than the last time you saw him.

Your first thought was that you wanted to help him carry that weight, even when you didn’t have a single idea of what it was. There must be something more than the rumors had to say about Giyuu, and you were determined to help change that. That was one of the reasons why you had gathered enough courage to talk to him and ask the feared question no one dared to ask anymore. It was a shoot in the dark you were willing to take.

Sweat ran down your forehead. You had your heart on your throat at each passing minute. You found yourself getting anxious, a cold feeling settling on your stomach as the final battle started to unfold around you. You had to find him right now.

The others didn’t matter, nothing around you mattered. The sounds coming from battle faded, the colors turned into a rush of blur. You could not stop moving even though there were so many things happening around you, ears clogged up by the sounds of your own heartbeat.

Musan’s Castle was a disorienting place, at each turn you would find more and more demons sneaking in, trying to take the Corps down. It was a never-ending cycle, seeming almost infinite. However, you had to have faith in the people you worked with, they could handle themselves.

It was such an ironic way of thinking since what you were doing was the complete opposite.

As you turned another corner, feeling hopeless with the way the battle was going, you saw him. And it was the scariest scene you’ve ever seen in your life. Making your heart stop. It froze you in place as you watched the scene unfold in front of you.

Akaza  — you had heard enough about the Upper-Moon to recognize him right away  — was mere inches from Giyuu’s face. Giyuu’s pale cheek had a strange mark adorning his handsome features that you immediately recognized as the mark he told you about a few weeks ago. Pride bloomed in your chest but there wasn’t enough space to feel anything else than fear as his sword moved down onto the demon.

For your horror, who came out bleeding was Giyuu.

Your feet moved before you could think. Before you could analyze the situation any better, to maybe come up with a plan. You would never learn your lesson, and probably that would be the death of you. Because it’s always going to be your heart you’re going to listen first.

"Don't you dare touch him!" You screamed desperately at the Upper-Moon, getting in between him and Giyuu, raising your blade right on time to stop him from landing another punch in his direction.

The impact took the air out of your lungs, your knees almost giving in. It was through sheer adrenaline that they stood firm, feet rooted on the ground. With all the strength left you tried to shove the Demon away.

You had never fought a Lower-Moon before, an Upper-Moon was something totally out of your league. There was still so much you needed to learn, so much you needed to improve. Yet, you threw yourself in a fight that only giants should be in.

Akaza jumped backwards, creating a distance between you two. He looked at his arm that was previously cut by Giyuu, now completely healed. He had a smirk on his face and all you could see was red. Your body burned and you furiously wanted to sink your blade into the Demon's neck and cut, cut and cut.

“Before you say anything,” You whispered to Giyuu, never taking your eyes off the Demon in front of you. “I know you don’t need me.”

As much as you wanted to check on him, it was most likely that both of you would die in a split second. You could only take a quick glance from the corner of your eyes and hope that the cut wasn’t deep. The grip on the hilt of your katana tightened as you heard Giyuu breathing behind you.

Still alive. Good.

Then, there is a pause. A brief moment where everything goes to a disturbing silence. The Upper-Moon watches the interaction between you two. Raising his brows, a slightly curious expression settling on his features. You could swear the Demon was able to hear your heart beating furiously against your ribcage.

Akaza steps forward, a mischievous expression on his face. You immediately take a step back, straining your back, unconsciously moving your body to cover Giyuu’s form. It was stupid, you felt like a little puppy protecting its owner.

The Upper-Demon laughs  — baring his sharp teeth  — a cruel smirk growing on his lips and you knew the Upper-Moon was playing with you. He probably thinks you are a fool.

Well, he wasn’t the only one.

You knew being in this position would only slow Giyuu down. Rengoku had died by the hands of this Demon. It was useless. Tanjirou was out of the battle, paralyzed for some reason. It was hopeless. Giyuu, your precious and talented Giyuu was hurt, bleeding. It was the end.

You didn’t notice when your hands started to shake even though you were determinated to fight. When the grip on the hilt of your katana was so tight it felt like it was burning, vision pulsing like a heartbeat. When the air got stuck in your throat, making it hard to breath.

In a fraction of time, you were on the edge of a cliff, staring down. The darkness of the deep cliff calling out your name, tempting you to jump in. The cruel and playful look on the Demon’s face twists a knife on your stomach  — as if all of your fears came crashing down on you. You were panicking.

Until a gentle hand tenderly touched your shoulder.

“Y/N.”

Giyuu whispers your name and just like, everything stops.

The shakiness of your hands quickly stops, air finally entering your lungs. You immediately calm down. It was like the soothing sound of water flowing down a river. A sound so beautiful and peaceful that it would always make your heart ache but it never failed to clean your mind.

It had been tough, the beginning of your relationship with Giyuu. Even though he had agreed to train you, it wasn’t like you two became friends right away. On the contrary, actually. It was hard to get him to talk to you. It was hard to even know what he wanted you to do during the sparring sessions because the communication was nonexistent. And you had tried. A lot.

The first month left you frustrated, to say the least. Not only did you feel like there was no improvement in your performance, you also felt that it was a waste of Giyuu’s time. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked, he clearly didn’t want you there. Had you read him wrong all this time?

So, after gathering enough courage, you told him what was on your mind. It was always a difficult task to know what Giyuu was thinking since he always had that stoic expression on his beautiful face.

“I just feel that…. You don’t like me.” You finally said what had been bothering you all this time. The assumption wouldn’t leave your mind no matter what. You were insecure and that train of thought would only contribute to leave you restless and irritated. You didn’t know why, but you really wanted him to like you.

“What made you think that?” He genuinely asked, raising his brows a little.

You were caught off guard by that. It was the first time he said anything after you started talking about your worries. Giyuu’s stare was calm and serene, you didn’t sense any anger or annoyance coming from him. You pondered for a while, biting on your bottom lips.

So, you tried to explain. It was a tough task because almost everything you knew about him was trough whispers and gossips. You felt bad for that, it wasn’t like you believed in everything people had to say, however, it was hard to separate those assumptions when he did nothing to change them. You were still hopeful that Giyuu just had a thick armor. One that you were fighting to bring it down.

“Do you think that… everyone feels the same way about me?”

You stared at him for some time, your guard thrown out of the roof. For some reason, you wanted to hug him. Instead, you decided to put your hand on his shoulder. His deep blue eyes staring at you reminded you of the ocean you used to swim when you were a child. Reminded you of home.

“Ugh, maybe…” You said, flinching a little. Even though it was true, it was still uncomfortable to say on someone’s face that people didn’t really think great of them.

“But I like you.”

The embarrassment of that confession would hit you hours later. However, at that moment, it was worth it. The tiny smile tugged on the corner of his lips did funny things to your chest.

In the end, you decided to stay and give another shot. Giyuu didn’t say anything about being bothered by you, so maybe it was just a matter of time. Gratefully, there were improvements in the following months. Even though it wasn’t easy, Giyuu was really trying to be more communicative, and that was all that mattered.

Stripping down all the dark emotions that were starting to eat you right in the spot, you tried to focus on the hand that was touching your shoulder; taking a deep breath, steading yourself.

“I do need you.” He calmly says and your heart skipped a beat or two.

It was so unfair. How Giyuu had such a big impact on you. How he could say anything and you would gladly do it because it was for him. Perhaps it was because you knew he was a good and kind man, underneath the surface and appearance. You trusted him with your life and knew he would take good care of it.

“Let’s fight together.”

Together. That has a nice ring to it.

From the corner of your eyes you see him moving to stand by your side, the tiniest smile tugged on the corner of his lips  — which would never fail to make your chest warm. You shot a quick glance at Tanjiro, who seemed to have recovered from his paralyzed state.

It was now or never.

As you watched the Upper-Moon take a step forward, the only thing you could think was that you two needed to survive this night  — because you still needed to see his beautiful smile once again.

You still needed to see him truly happy.

#tomioka giyuu #tomioka giyu x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #kny #sometimes i write

[yourfaceislikeabluemoon]

You’re Gonna Be the Death of Me, I Swear

Words: 9.7k

Warning: A decent amount of language throughout with the majority in the last scene, kissing (starts out fairly innocent but gets raunchier as the fic progresses), teacher/student roleplay if you squint, Changbin calls Hyunjin pup/puppy, grinding but barely, brief mentions of jacking off, just a hint of angst, crying and apologies, marking/love bites, praise (they both clearly have praise kinks but it’s never explicitly mentioned), brief nipple play/licking/biting, blowjob, frottage (Changbin jerks them off at the same time), lots of dirty talk, Hyunjin has a filthy mouth but is also a whiny baby, cum play/eating, spanking, ass eating, fingering, very brief degradation, barebacking (practice safe sex y’all), cumming inside, and brief innuendos.

A/N: hey, I’m back with another member x member fic! this one is a lot dirtier than the last one oops 🤭 Changjin has been living in my mind rent free this entire comeback so I just had to write something and ‘Kissing Practice’ is one of my favorite tropes and so this filth was born! so yeah, my brain has actually been coming up with ideas lately, which is basically a miracle considering the wasteland it was for 6+ months straight. as always, I hope you enjoy this and please let me know what you think! it really motivates me to write more and I appreciate every single one of you that takes time out of their day to read what I write, thank you so so much! oki enjoy hehe ❤

“Forget it. It’s stupid, I know. Forget I even asked.”

“No, wait!” Changbin called after Hyunjin, who had stood up from his spot on the couch to head off to his room. Hyunjin sighed tiredly and turned back around to face his older groupmate. “Why me?”

Eyebrows knit together, Hyunjin returned to his space next to Changbin. “Why not you?”

Bin let out a broken noise, trying to formulate his words properly, “No, I mean why not Chan or Minho? Why was I the hyung you came to?” When Hyunjin’s expression morphed into that of an abandoned puppy, Changbin held up his hands, “Not that I don’t want to help you! You know I’ll always help you when you ask-- and, and I’m not trying to get out of it or anything. Just, why me? Wouldn’t Chan be better at this sort of thing? I don’t know, seniority or something.”

Hyunjin chuckled at Bin’s babbling, shaking his head as he looked down at his own lap. “First of all, I’m scared of Minho.” Changbin couldn’t hold back his laughter and Hyunjin shrugged but laughed along with him. “Second, everyone but Felix knows Chan’s been pining after Felix for years and I don’t want to feel like a homewrecker even though feelings aren’t attached, you know?”

“Good point. Chan needs to grow a pair, honestly. Like what’s the worst that could happen? Felix giggles at him?” Bin let a rush of air out of his nose at the image that popped into his head before turning back to a grinning Hyunjin who was nodding in agreement.

“Yeah,” the younger continued, “So as you can see, that leaves me with one hyung. You.”

Changbin gave him an unamused look, “So I’m a last resort.”

Hyunjin shook his head again, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. “No, you’re really not. You’re the one that likes my lips so much. I figured you’d be the one who wouldn’t feel completely tortured if you went along with my proposal. Maybe you wouldn’t mind it. I was probably wrong in assuming that. I’m sorry.”

“You aren’t wrong,” Bin denied adamantly. Realizing how eager he sounded, he quickly calmed himself down and cleared his throat. “Everyone thinks you have nice lips, not just me.”

Leaning a bit closer, Hyunjin lowered his voice, “I think you like them more than the others do, though.”

Changbin gulped but tried to look casual, “Maybe I do.”

“Then, what do you say?” Hyunjin tilted his head and stared at the elder with interest, wide-eyed and waiting.

Bin couldn’t make eye contact. He stared at an empty soda can sitting on the coffee table as thoughts whirled around in his head like a tornado. Should he say ‘yes’? Would he be risking everything he had worked so hard to conceal? Was this bound to end in disaster if he went along with it?

He bit the bullet.

“OK.”

~

The thing is, Hyunjin’s ‘proposal’ wasn’t exactly expected, to say the least. Essentially, Hyunjin had sought out Changbin in order to ask him to be the one to teach the younger how to kiss. He claimed that he had no experience and didn’t know how; he didn’t want to be a total fuck up when the time came around where he needed this particular skill. So, he decided to ask one of his hyungs for help, to teach him, and to help him practice.

Changbin was, quite honestly, flabbergasted. The prettiest human being he had ever had the privilege of observing was telling him that they had no experience and was asking him for lessons in the form of basically making out. There was a teeny tiny red flag that shot up in the back of Changbin’s mind as he processed Hyunjin’s ‘proposal’, but apparently it wasn’t enough of a deterrent to keep his emotions from controlling his decision-making because he agreed to it without much persuasion. Changbin was determined that, in the end, Hyunjin would not be a total fuck up when it came to kissing, even if that meant he had to put himself through hell trying to keep his feelings out of the equation.

~

Hyunjin admittedly felt a little guilty when he plopped down on Changbin’s bed a couple days later and asked, “So, is it time for my first lesson yet?”

He had been wanting to kiss Changbin pretty much since the moment they met. Lying about not having experience and needing help was the strategy he had finally brainstormed to get his way. He had the smallest hint of feeling like he would regret this idea but he blamed Changbin and his doll lips for ultimately giving into temptation.

The older swiveled around in his desk chair to face Hyunjin. “I suppose. But are you sure you want me to be your first kiss?”

Hyunjin coughed and tripped over his own words, “It-it’s just p-practice! It doesn’t really c-count as the-the-as the real thing!”

Changbin gently smiled at him but Hyunjin couldn’t tell if the flash in his eyes was of pain or pity. He decided to ignore it since neither would make him feel any better. Changbin was about to push himself out of his chair but Hyunjin stopped him, “Um, I’ll-I’ll come over there.”

The sudden raise of his eyebrows gave away the fact that Changbin was somewhat startled by Hyunjin’s statement but he nodded curtly as permission, “Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He relaxed back into his chair as Hyunjin shyly made his way over. The younger stopped about a foot away from Changbin’s knees and gulped, genuinely nervous as hell.

“So, should I just…” Hyunjin didn’t know if he was supposed to wait for instruction or if he was meant to just dive in. Changbin raised a brow, challenging this time, and waited to see if Hyunjin really would make the first move. Sure enough, he stepped slightly closer, let out a quick breath, and leaned forward, placing a hand on each armrest before quickly pecking Changbin’s lips. “There. How was that?”

Changbin’s brain took a moment to process the question, eventually coming to the conclusion that teasing would prompt the most favorable outcome a.k.a. Hyunjin pouting in frustration. “How was what?”

Bingo. Hyunjin huffed angrily, brows knitted together and lips pushed out in the anticipated pout. He balled his fists at his sides and slowly unclenched them. Leaning back in, he placed a slightly longer peck on Changbin’s lips but retreated just as fast as the first time. He gestured sharply, “That.”

“That?” Changbin asked, pointing at his own lips. Hyunjin inclined his head and his expression could only read ‘duh’. “That wasn’t a kiss.”

A fire lit behind Hyunjin’s eyes and he snarled, “Then what, Seonsaengnim, is?”

Changbin smirked daringly and patted his thigh, “Take a seat, haksaeng.”

Hyunjin matched the older’s smirk and, licking his lips seductively, he eased himself into Changbin’s lap, one thick thigh on either side. It was a little awkward in the desk chair but something about squeezing in so close together made it all the more thrilling. Changbin’s hands immediately found the younger’s hips, earning a shiver when he gripped at them roughly.

The elder was completely calm, steely gaze wandering Hyunjin’s features while Hyunjin felt just as inexperienced as he was pretending to be, panting already. Bin slid his hand up Hyunjin’s side to rest his pointer finger under his chin. The pad of his thumb pressed into the younger’s plush lower lip as he gently guided him forward. Hyunjin obediently let himself be pulled closer, eyes slipping closed at the delicate touch.

When Changbin slotted their lips together, he felt Hyunjin instantly melt into him and he resisted the urge to grin at his silent victory. He pulled back with a soft smacking noise before pressing his lips to Hyunjin’s again. After a few careful, sweet kisses to start off, the older drew back and looked at the boy in his lap who was chasing his lips with his eyes still closed. Changbin let out a quiet chuckle, “Eager puppy.”

Hyunjin whined and pouted again, eyes finally opening to look at Changbin. “Feels nice,” he mumbled under his breath as he glanced off to the side, somewhat embarrassed to make too much eye contact.

Bin hummed, “That’s nothing. Wanted to start you off easy though. Didn’t want to rush you at the very start.” He caressed the side of his face, thumb running over the soft skin of Hyunjin’s cheekbone before something in his brain alerted him that he was letting his feelings bleed in and he jerked his hand back suddenly.

Hyunjin tilted his head, expression rather confused, but Changbin covered up the awkwardness by forcing a smile. “Your turn.” The younger looked even more confused and Bin chuckled, “It’s pop quiz time. Show me what you’ve learned so far.”

“Already?” Hyunjin asked, dumbfounded. A light blush began to tint his cheeks. “Kinda lost focus,” he admitted. “I don’t really remember what to do.”

Bin smiled genuinely, “Just do your best, pup.”

Hyunjin’s blush deepened at the nickname and he took a deep breath before hesitantly reaching up to rest his fingertips against Changbin’s jawline and leaned in. He fit their lips together just like Bin had done earlier, dragging away and pressing in again and again.

When he withdrew, Changbin was a little flushed and Hyunjin felt a jolt of happiness rush through him because that was from him. He grinned, “How was that?”

Bin scoffed jokingly, “‘Don’t really remember’, my ass!”

The younger blushed again and his gaze fell to his hands in his lap where he was picking at loose skin around his fingernail.

“It was much better, Jinnie. You did well.” Hyunjin glanced up at Changbin’s praise and smiled gratefully. “But I think that’s enough learning for today.”

Hyujin shook his head adamantly and pouted again, “Just one more lesson. Please, Binnie hyung?”

Changbin’s laugh was bright and teasing, “You like kissing that much already?”

The younger bit at his lip and glanced away before looking back at Bin and nodded shyly. He really, really, really liked it, especially if it was with Changbin; he wasn’t going to admit that out loud.

Changbin sighed, feigning reluctance, but he couldn’t help but grin, “Alright. You know I can’t say no to those puppy dog eyes of yours.”

Hyunjin lit up and bounced slightly in Bin’s lap, wrapping his arms around his neck as he settled comfortably. Changbin’s hands were back on his hips and he nodded at the younger, “C’mere.”

Giggling, Hyunjin leaned in once again and voluntarily initiated the kiss, letting Bin take the lead after he had left a few sweet pecks on his lips. Changbin fluidly moved their lips together and, without noticing in order to stop himself, Hyunjin ‘caught on’ rather quickly. He lost himself in Changbin’s pretty doll lips, his warmth, the scent of his skin, in Changbin. Hyunjin’s fingers found the hair at Bin’s nape and he tangled them in the soft strands while the older’s arms wound around his waist, drawing him in even closer.

Changbin didn’t let the kiss get too dirty or passionate but he knew it felt right, Hyunjin in his lap holding onto him for dear life, tugging at his hair, squeezing in as close as possible. The older pulled away begrudgingly and Hyunjin chased his lips again, causing Bin to chuckle at him despite his own labored breathing. “That’s enough, pup.” Hyunjin pouted once more and slouched in disappointment. “You’re a fast learner, aren’t you, Jinnie?”

The younger hummed appreciatively, “I’m learning from the best.”

Bin rolled his eyes and let out a huff of air in his amusement. “How do you know I’m the best, Mr. I Have No Experience?”

“Shh,” Hyunjin hushed him with a long, slender finger faintly resting against Changbin’s rose tinted lips. “I just know.” A glint of mischief flashed in his eyes and he bit at his bottom lip before giggling again. He tried as gracefully as he could to stand up but his legs were admittedly a little wobbly. Hyunjin just laughed at himself and shrugged, “Well, I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing before I bothered you.”

Changbin furrowed his brow. “You didn’t bother me, Hyunjin. I’m, uhh,” he cleared his throat, “I’m happy to help.”

Hyunjin smiled warmly and leaned down to press another kiss to his hyung’s lips. “Thank you, Binnie hyung,” he whispered against them before pulling away and leaving Changbin’s bedroom, softly shutting the door behind himself.

Bin sat staring after him for who knows how many minutes, lost in thought and missing the warmth of Hyunjin in his lap. He sighed deeply. He simply wanted what he just couldn’t have and he had to convince himself to bury those feelings. He was going to regret this, he could feel it in his bones.

The younger leaned his back against the door and stared off into space wondering why he even started this whole thing, why he didn’t just tell Changbin the truth and admit his feelings from the start. Guilt swam in his stomach like churning waves and he felt tears prick at his eyes. Hyunjin gulped and blinked them away, taking a deep breath before heading off to distract himself somehow.

~

“Is this ok?” Hyunjin asked tentatively as he eased down onto Changbin’s lap.

Bin chuckled, “This seems to be your favorite spot lately.” When the younger blushed and shied away, Changbin smiled warmly and rested his hands on Hyunjin’s hips, “As long as you're comfortable, I’m fine.”

Biting his lip, Hyunjin glanced at the couch cushion next to them and cleared his throat. “So what’s lesson three, or whatever number we’re on?”

The elder smirked, “I know you’ve been keeping track, pup. You can’t fool me.” Changbin swore he saw Hyunjin’s eye twitch and a flash of agony wash over his face and leave as quickly as it came, but he chose to ignore it and ghosted his hands up and down the sides of the boy in his lap. “Why don’t I just show you, hmm?”

“Should I expect a pop quiz after?” Hyunjin looked up through his lashes, teasing smile curving his pretty, plush lips.

Changbin scoffed jokingly, “It wouldn’t be a pop quiz if I warned you it was happening, Jinnie.”

The younger squinted suspiciously and shrugged his shoulders. “I thought I’d be able to read you. But I guess I’ll just have to pay really close attention and impress you if you do decide to test me.”

Nervousness peeked through Changbin’s calm facade and he gulped apprehensively before composing himself and grunting a noise of acknowledgement. He reached up to grab the back of Hyunjin’s neck and tugged him forward, slotting their lips together forcefully. Hyunjin’s breath hitched and the desire to ruin him clouded Changbin’s mind as he moved his lips against Hyunjin’s, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth before nipping at it aggressively. The younger let out a surprised but pleased sigh and Changbin felt him shiver in his hold.

He kissed back just as sharply, pulling back slightly with Changbin’s lower lip trapped in his teeth, tugging at the flesh before letting it bounce back. He opened his eyes to admire Bin’s features and when the olders eyes fluttered open, Hyunjin smirked at how dark and lustful his gaze had become. Without warning, Hyunjin dove back in and Changbin found himself panting into the others mouth, caught off guard and losing himself in the kiss.

Hyunjin kissed eagerly and feverishly, mouth moving forcibly against Changbin’s but somehow it wasn’t too much. In fact, Bin was craving more and he had to force himself not to take more than was acceptable at the time. He reluctantly withdrew, head falling back against the couch as he tried to catch his breath, eyes still closed.

“Fuck,” Changbin laughed airily, “I don’t think I have to test you after that.”

“Yeah?”

Bin let out another huff of air, “Yeah. It was almost too good.”

Hyunjin sucked his lips into his mouth and bit down, frowning skittishly and glad Changbin still had his eyes shut. “Sorry.”

“No!” Bin’s head shot up and he looked at the younger, perplexed. “Why are you apologizing, Jinnie?” He shook his head and chuckled gently, “I honestly didn’t want to stop.”

Lips shaped like a perfect ‘O’, Hyunjin gazed back at him, expression a little surprised as his cheeks reddened, “Oh.”

Changbin smiled at him fondly but embarrassment at his own admission started to creep up and he looked away shyly. “Don’t look at me like that! I can’t help it, I enjoyed it!”

Hyunjin giggled and leaned forward to whisper in Bin’s ear, “I liked it, too. Really, really liked it.” When he sat back, Changbin’s eyes had darkened again, pupils blown and faintly swollen lips parted.

“In that case,” the younger fidgeted in his lap as he took a deep, calming breath before continuing. “Move on to the next lesson?”

Eyes widening minutely, Hyunjin nodded slowly, glancing down at Changbin’s lips before flicking back up to hold his steady gaze. “Please,” he pleaded almost soundlessly.

“I think I’m gonna regret teaching you how to use tongue because you’ll pick it up really fast and you’re gonna be the death of me, I swear,” Changbin mumbled unintelligibly under his breath. Hyunjin managed to make out the last part of his sentence.

You’re gonna be the death of me, I swear.

Those words swam around in his foggy head as he stared into Changbin’s eyes, almost in a daze and Changbin thought he looked far too fucked out from just a kiss but he wasn’t complaining about the beauty sitting in his lap. The older lured Hyunjin again easily, moulding their lips together the second he was close enough. Hyunjin felt like he was floating and he was suddenly brought back to earth by a burning in the pit of his stomach when Changbin slid his tongue over his bottom lip. He gasped against the older’s mouth, granting him access and tightening his grip around his neck, chests pressed against each other.

Changbin cautiously licked around the outline of Hyunjin’s open mouth, urging a stunned moan to escape from the younger boy. Smiling into the kiss, Bin sucked at his lower lip before moving their lips together again. Hyunjin hesitantly poked his tongue out and Changbin took the opportunity to suck on it, earning a whimper as Hyunjin fisted the front of the elders shirt. Changbin kissed him deeply and, just as he expected, the younger caught on quickly, tongues gracefully dancing together amidst sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.

Pulling away for desperately needed oxygen, they rested their foreheads together as Changbin panted through a smile and Hyunjin stared at him, a hazy look in his eyes. Seconds later, Hyunjin pressed his lips to his hyung’s with new fervor, hands still tightly clutching at the material of Changbin’s shirt. He moaned wantonly when the elder squeezed at his waist.

Hyunjin felt the need to prove what he had learned despite not being asked this time around. He gave up trying to act like all this was new to him and just gave into kissing Changbin. Using his tongue like a hook, Hyunjin dragged Bin’s upper lip into his mouth and nipped at the flesh. The older groaned deeply and his hips canted upwards unintentionally. Pleased with himself, Hyunjin took to exploring Changbin’s mouth, earning moans and whimpers alike. When he finally pulled back, Changbin was the one dazed; kiss-bitten, swollen lips a deep, cherry red and eyes black and lecherous.

“Fuck,” he breathed, throwing his head back again. “Fuck! Why are you such a fast learner?”

The younger smirked, a sudden urge to kiss down Changbin’s exposed throat flashed in his mind but he quickly rid his brain of the thought, sure that that would be too far. At least for the moment.

Changbin laughed at the ceiling. It was almost lethargic. “I think the student has surpassed the teacher, fucking hell!”

Hyunjin couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up in his chest and he covered his mouth, eyes forming crescent moons above his hand.

“You can’t just look all cute after you did...that,” Bin mumbled when he glanced at the laughing boy in his lap. Suddenly reminded of the whole ‘canting of his hips’ thing and the very evident bulge in his pants underneath Hyunjin’s ass, Changbin flushed, mortified. Hyunjin took that exact moment to squirm in the olders lap and Bin groaned sheepishly. “That’s probably completely unwarranted since we were just kissing but uhh...fuck it! It’s your fault for being too good at kissing so thanks for that!”

Joy mixed with pride bloomed in Hyunjin and he bit his lip, giggling even more, before leaning in to whisper in Changbin’s ear once more. “It was my pleasure,” he taunted, taking Bin’s earring between his teeth and tugged at it gently; the older shivered under him. Then he was out of Changbin’s lap in a flash. As he made his way out of the living room, he called over his shoulder, “I’ll leave you to take care of that.”

“You little shit!” Changbin shouted after him, prompting Hyunjin to wiggle his fingers in a wave before rounding a corner. Bin dropped his head back on the couch, fancying a good old, frustrated scream, but he stayed quiet. He finally got off the couch and headed off to take care of his problem.

And if he imagined Hyunjin taking him apart bit by bit while he simultaneously took Hyunjin apart when he wrapped his hand around his aching, positively dripping cock, that was no one’s business.

He did.

He also chanted Hyunjin’s name in a whisper as he spurted white all over himself and his hand.

But again, no one’s business.

And if Hyunjin got off to the sounds his hyung was making in the other room while he imagined how good Changbin would look covered in his cum, just to reiterate, that was no one’s business.

He did.

He was also overcome with an overwhelming wave of guilt moments after he came to the thought of Changbin.

No one’s business.

~

It became a normal thing, secret kisses and immediate guilt and burying of feelings. Hyunjin was sick to his stomach quite often, to the point that Chan got concerned with how often he was saying he was sick and going to lay down. Changbin worried that it was his fault. Maybe the younger was sick of him. Maybe he hated kissing Bin and just kept going along with it so as not to make him feel bad. If only he hadn’t said yes, if only they didn’t keep this up, if only, if, if. Changbin worried himself sick but he didn’t let Chan notice because Chan definitely didn’t need anything else to worry about.

“I’m going to go check on him,” Changbin volunteered a few minutes after Hyunjin mentioned he was feeling off and went to lay down for the nth time that week. Chan gave him an appreciative look and nodded approvingly.

Bin headed for the kitchen to make some ginger tea to soothe Hyunjin’s upset stomach. Once it was brewed, he took the steaming mug and knocked lightly on Hyunjin’s bedroom door before quietly opening it and peeking his head in. “Jinnie, it’s me. I brought you some ginger tea. It might help your stomach.”

Hyunjin grunted and laid still, facing the wall as Changbin padded in and set the mug down on the bedside table. The older hesitated before sitting on the bed in the curve Hyunjin’s legs formed and rested a gentle hand on his arm. “Jinnie,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Changbin heard a sniffle and his heart immediately clenched in pain at the thought of Hyunjin crying. “Oh, Jinnie, baby. Don’t cry,” he pleaded selfishly, knowing just how much it hurt to see him cry.

Hyunjin let out a sob. “Why did you say you’re sorry? What for? I’m the one that’s sorry. I’m so sorry,” he babbled, voice cracking every other word. “I’m so sorry, hyung.”

“Jinnie,” Bin hesitated, on the brink of tears himself and he was sure they would spill when he saw the younger’s face but he asked anyway. “Can you look at me, please?” Hyunjin hiccuped and turned to face the older, unable to look him in the eye. “What are you apologizing for, baby? You have nothing to be sorry for!”

Throwing his hands up in the air, Hyunjin scoffed exasperatedly. “You couldn’t be more wrong, hyung!” He let his hands fall back to his sides and laughed sardonically through his tears.

Changbin couldn’t help the hurt expression that morphed his features. “I can’t know unless you tell me,” he tried, reaching for the younger’s hand to squeeze reassuringly. “You can tell me anything, Jinnie.” He could practically see the gears turning in Hyunjin’s head as he debated on whether or not to tell his hyung the truth. “I’m not sure if you think this or not, but I’m not mad at you. And I won’t be, no matter what you tell me. I just want to know what’s wrong because I’m worried sick about you and I want to fix whatever’s wrong if I can.”

Hyunjin’s bottom lip trembled as fresh tears spilled over his cheeks. He shot up and wrapped his arms around Changbin, weeping into his shoulder as the older took him into his arms and soothed a hand up and down his back. “Jinnie,” he whispered, burying his face in Hyunjin’s neck. But that’s all he said. He waited patiently for the younger to speak his mind.

“I lied to you,” Hyunjin mumbled into his t-shirt. “I lied about,” his body shook with the deep breath he took, “I lied about not having experience.” Hyunjin pulled away and sat hunched over, staring into his own lap and fiddled with a loose string on his pant leg. “I made it all up. All of it. The whole kissing practice thing was just an excuse. And I kept the lie going and I feel awful about it. I feel so sick over it because I never intended to hurt you or force you into it or anything like that. I feel sick over it because I’ve had feelings for you this whole time and I’ve been ignoring them so much when I’m with you that when I’m not with you, they all come crashing down on me and I feel like I’m going to throw up because I’m so overwhelmed with guilt. I can’t lie to you anymore, hyung. I never wanted to in the first place. But my stupid brain couldn’t figure out another way to make you see that I’m in love with you. So instead, I just hurt the both of us. Like an idiot. And I know I hurt you because you wouldn’t have apologized if I didn’t. You’re too sweet, saying you’re sorry for something that isn’t even remotely your fault and you know it. You’re too sweet and I love you for it. So much. And I’m so, so sorry.”

Changbin’s brain couldn’t process the entirety of the sudden influx of information that had just poured out of Hyunjin’s mouth. All he could process was three things, and he told Hyunjin so. “All I heard was ‘I lied’, ‘I’m sorry’, and ‘I’m in love with you’.” Hyunjin looked somewhat fearful, combined with embarrassment and regret. The older shook his head and took Hyunjin’s hands into his own. “And I’m telling you the exact same thing. I lied in the sense that I never told you I had feelings for you when I’ve had them since we first met. I’m sorry that I kept this thing going without telling you everything--I’m the hyung here, that’s on me. And I’m in love with you, too.”

“Y-you don’t hate me?” Hyunjin’s brows were scrunched together and he stared at the older in disbelief.

Reaching up to wipe away the new tears from the younger’s cheeks, Changbin shook his head adamantly. “Baby, no! I could never hate you! I mean, I can’t say I like the fact that you lied to me but I don’t blame you because I lied to you, too. We both didn’t know how to just come right out with our feelings. And besides, it got us this far, didn’t it?”

Hyunjin chuckled sadly, “I guess so. I’m still really sorry, hyung.”

“I know, Jinnie. Me too,” Changbin gently tugged him forward into another hug which Hyunjin gladly melted into. “I love you.”

Another sob slipped past Hyunjin’s lips and he laughed at himself, “Sorry, I didn’t know I would react like that hearing you say that for the first time.”

Changbin hummed and nuzzled into his neck, arms squeezing Hyunjin’s waist. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, hyung.”

~

“You said you don’t hate me but you’re spending awfully long amounts of time in your studio here lately.” Hyunjin’s teasing voice startled a very focused Changbin who was absorbed in whatever he was working on. He quickly spun around in his chair and his gaze found the younger standing in the doorway, his hip leant against the door frame and arms crossed over his chest, eyebrow raised, feigning suspicion.

Changbin whined, “You know I miss you like crazy. I’ve just had so much work to get done.”

Smirk curving his lips, Hyunjin sauntered into the room, closing the door behind him and turned the lock. “Why don’t you show me how much you miss me?” He taunted as he dropped onto the sofa in Changbin’s studio, clearly expecting the older to come to him.

Bin scoffed lightly before turning back around to fiddle with something while defeat and embarrassment crept up in Hyunjin; he genuinely thought Changbin was just ignoring him and finishing his work like the younger wasn’t even there. But soon, a sultry melody with heavy bass flooded through the speakers in the studio [Electric (R3hab Remix) (feat. Khalid) - Alina Baraz] and Changbin turned back around to face Hyunjin, smirking himself when he saw the expression on Hyunjin’s face. Pushing out of his chair, Bin stalked over to the couch, slipping his t-shirt over his head and tossed it behind himself carelessly as he watched Hyunjin rake his carnal gaze over the newly exposed skin, dark eyes hooded and full lips parted.

When he finally stood in front of the younger, he snickered wickedly and leaned in to ghost his lips over Hyunjin’s before gently guiding him to lay down on the sofa, body rolling fluidly as he climbed on top of him. “That was way too smooth,” Hyunjin whispered, impressed, causing Changbin’s smirk to widen if that was even possible.

“Kinda surprised myself there, honestly.” His smirk transformed into a genuine smile as he chuckled at himself and Hyunjin thought he looked positively beautiful in that moment. The feeling was mutual. Changbin stared at the boy below him -- long blond hair splayed out around his head, flush high on his cheeks, an enthralled fascination swirled deep in his inky eyes alongside pure admiration and want. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he rasped, mesmerized.

“Kiss me,” Hyunjin breathed. Changbin didn’t need to be told twice. He bent down and brushed their noses together ever so gently before capturing Hyunjin’s lips. Moving gracefully, Bin kissed him deeply, wanting to convey as much emotion as he possibly could, needing Hyunjin to know how much he loved him. He couldn’t help but say it, though.

“I love you, Jinnie.”

Hyunjin hummed against his mouth, “Mmm, love you, too, hyung. So much.” He threw his arms around Changbin, pulling him in even closer and arched into him when the older teased their tongues together.

“Want you,” Hyunjin gasped after moments of kissing the life out of each other. “Want you so bad.”

Changbin growled, kissing along Hyunjin’s jawline and down his neck as the younger boy bared his throat for him. Desperately wanting to leave marks, he knew he couldn’t leave anything in visible areas so he softly mouthed, kissed, and licked at the column of Hyunjin’s neck, earning constant whimpers and whines because of the sensitivity of the area. When Bin reached his clavicle, the urge won over and he sucked a deep plum-colored mark where he thought would be the perfect place. Sitting up to marvel at Hyunjin, Changbin let out a pleased hum at how divine the younger looked with his claim on him. The stylist noonas probably wouldn’t be too happy but Hyunjin looked plenty sexy when he was more covered up so Changbin didn’t think it would be too much of a problem. He didn’t care anyway. Hyunjin was his.

“Mine,” he murmured as he bent down again briefly to kiss at the pretty bruise. When he sat back up, he smiled in awe. “Always wanted to know what you’d look like underneath me like this.”

Hyunjin huffed out a chuckle, “And how do I look?”

“Impossibly perfect. Better than I ever dreamed,” Bin praised, eyes sparkling when he noticed Hyunjin’s cheeks redden. He shook his head and laughed breathily, “And I haven’t even ruined you yet!”

“Binnie hyung,” Hyunjin whined, pouting just how Changbin liked so much.

Bin smirked, “I know, baby,” he leaned down to kiss him again, “I’ve got you.” Hands trailing up Hyunjin’s sides and lifting his shirt in the process, Changbin sucked at his plush lips, fingertips delicately dancing over the other boy’s skin. Goosebumps rose under his touch and the younger arched into him again, moaning sweetly, so receptive and sensitive. “Off,” Changbin murmured against Hyunjin’s mouth.

Sitting up to lift his shirt over his head and toss it to the side, Hyunjin promptly fell back against the cushion, hair flooding out around him again. The dim, hazy light that filled the room lit up his blond strands and looked suspiciously like a halo to Changbin. But he knew better. This was no angel beneath him. This was a devil with a halo. Hyunjin had been shy and pliant but when he noticed how Changbin was staring at him, he couldn’t help but smirk as a wicked naughtiness shone behind his eyes and Changbin swore this boy would be the end of him.

Without warning, Bin leaned down to mouth at one of Hyunjin’s pert nipples and he grinned against his skin when the younger boy whimpered and canted his hips, the brief flash of power behind his eyes vanishing as quickly as it appeared. The older tugged gently with his teeth, earning a gasp and a roll of Hyunjin’s hips. Changbin hummed, “Bet I could make you cum from just your nipples, hmm? Would you like that, pup?”

Hyunjin shook his head fervently, “No! Want you, hyung!”

Chuckling, Changbin nodded as he pressed kisses over to Hyunjin’s other side. “Alright. Patience, baby. I told you I’d ruin you and I’m going to take my time. Understood?”

Sucking in a breath past his teeth, Hyunjin melted further into the sofa, “Yes, hyung.”

Changbin took his time toying with Hyunjin’s nipples before mouthing over the entirety of his chest, leaving burgundy flowers blooming in his wake, littering his skin with possessive marks. Whimpering and biting at his lips, Hyunjin craved more and Changbin could feel just how badly he needed him. He tugged at the waistband of the younger boy’s jeans, “I’m gonna take these off now. Is that ok?”

“Please,” Hyunjin begged simply. So Bin unfastened them slowly and slipped the material down his legs and threw it behind himself blindly before kneeling between his legs and bending down to mouth at his clothed cock. “Oh!” Hyunjin gasped, hands immediately flying to Changbin’s hair and tugging at the strands at the nape of his neck. The older smiled against him and hooked his fingers under the band, looking up for permission. When Hyunjin nodded, hooded eyes fluttering and lips bitten red, looking absolutely breathtaking, Bin removed them, wasting no time in mouthing at his leaking cock. The younger squirmed beneath him, mewling as he sucked at his balls. “Hyung, I-” A strangled moan cut off his words when Changbin wrapped his pretty doll lips around the head of his dick.

“Hmm?” Bin questioned wordlessly, suckling tenderly. But Hyunjin didn’t answer; he threw his head back and cursed under his breath when Changbin moved further down. Hollowing his cheeks, he bobbed his head, gradually taking more and more of Hyunjin. The younger writhed, wanton moans spilling from his lips.

Hyunjin had quite a bit of length but Changbin knew he could take it so he relaxed his throat and slid all the way down. “Hyung! Mouth- so good- I- Oh my god!” Hyunjin slurred, tightening his grasp on the hair in his fists. Bin’s chest warmed, proud of himself, knowing he was giving Hyunjin so much pleasure he could barely speak. The head of Hyunjin’s cock repeatedly hit the back of his throat before he stilled, swallowing around him, urging a weak scream from the boy under him.

Changbin loved how vocal Hyunjin was but in that moment, he was eternally grateful for the soundproof walls surrounding them. He lifted off Hyunjin’s cock, having decided it was sufficiently wet, and if not, the pre-cum would make the slide easier. Bin sat up on his knees and untucked himself, not even bothering to take off his sweats, just shoving them out of the way enough before leaning forward to hover over Hyunjin. Avoiding his hair, Changbin rested on his forearm against the cushion and slotted their hips together, hard, leaking cocks brushing each other as he watched the younger’s face morph in euphoria.

Spitting in his hand, just in case, Bin reached down between them and took both cocks in his hand, instantly dropping his head to Hyunjin’s neck and rolling his hips into his grasp. Hyunjin groaned and wrapped his arms around Changbin’s torso. “Yes,” he whispered in his ear, “You feel so good, hyung. Touch me just like that.”

Controlling nature fading in and out, Hyunjin vacilated between flustered, slurred words and heated, dirty talk like it was the easiest thing in the world and Changbin couldn’t help but be amused despite the tingle that shot up his spine at Hyunjin’s words. He smiled against Hyunjin’s fiery skin, placing small kisses on the junction where his neck met his shoulder.

Changbin continued to tug at their cocks until Hyunjin was whining in his ear and digging his nails into his back. “I’m so close, hyung. Please make me cum. Please,” he panted as he thrusted into Bin’s fist.

The older groaned in response, rhythm speeding up slightly and he stopped every once in a while to squeeze at the heads. “‘m close too, pup. Gonna make a mess of you. Gonna cum all over your pretty tummy. Bet you look gorgeous covered in my cum.”

Hyunjin suddenly stopped breathing, seizing up and arching into the older, chests pressing together as he spilled himself over Changbin’s hand and his own stomach. Bin leaned up just in time to see the ecstasy freeze up his beautiful features, hypnotized by the boy beneath him. “Wow,” he breathed, helping Hyunjin ride out his orgasm. Air returned to the younger boy’s lungs and he turned to lazily smile at Changbin.

He stopped stroking them together, letting Hyunjin’s cock fall into the mess on his stomach as he sat up and grasped his own length. Using the cum his hand was covered in to ease the slide even more, Bin fisted himself eagerly and seconds later, he streaked Hyunjin’s stomach with his own release. Changbin slouched as the energy evaporated from him.

Through heavy-lidded eyes, he watched Hyunjin trail his fingertips through the cum on his abdomen, swirling it around sloppily, mixing their releases before scooping up a decent amount. Changbin’s eyes widened and his dick twitched in renewed interest as Hyunjin brought his fingers to his mouth and wrapped his pillowy, kiss-bitten lips around them. Their eyes met as the younger boy cleaned his fingers of their cum, blown pupils swimming with desire and mischief.

“Fuck,” Changbin huffed, hovering over Hyunjin once more. “What a dirty baby!” Hyunjin smirked as he pulled his fingers from his mouth, a single strand of saliva connecting them. Bin broke it with the tip of his tongue before capturing the younger boy’s lips and dipping his tongue in to taste their cum on Hyunjin’s tongue.

He moaned at the older’s boldness and kissed him deeper. He teasingly mumbled against Changbin’s lips, “You’re dirty, too, hyung, aren’t you?” Bin just smiled and kissed him again.

After losing track of the time they spent kissing and giving himself enough of a refractory time period, Changbin pulled away and met Hyunjin’s eyes. “How about you flip over so I can taste you some more, hmm?” Hyunjin nodded quickly and reached for a t-shirt on the floor to rid his stomach of the rest of the mess. He was pretty sure it was his own shirt and in the back of his mind, he briefly hoped Bin had a spare or at least a hoodie so he wouldn’t have to return to the dorms suspiciously shirtless.

He cleaned himself off and turned over as requested and Changbin’s hands immediately gripped at his ass, kneading the flesh and spreading his cheeks. “Fuck, Jinnie! You’re too pretty, god!” Hyunjin looked over his shoulder at the older and scrunched his nose in a teasing manner while shaking his ass as best he could in Changbin’s grasp. Bin landed a slap against his right cheek, punishment for his playful taunting, and Hyunjin groaned deeply, dropping his head to the couch cushion and lifting his hips slightly, seemingly silently begging for more.

Changbin willingly obliged his unspoken request, his expression a nasty sneer as he smacked Hyunjin’s left cheek. “Wanna look in the mirror and see my handprints on your ass? My marks all over your pretty chest and thighs? Feel my lingering touch on your heated skin? Know you’re mine?” He demanded, spellbound by the way Hyunjin’s ass jiggled every time he laid a hard slap on the soft flesh.

Hyunjin wailed loudly at a particularly harsh spank and pushed his ass back towards Changbin. “Fuck, yes! More! Please, more! Make me yours, hyung!”

Bin growled unrestrainedly and ceased his attack on Hyunjin’s reddened skin, instead moving to lick a long stripe up his puckered hole. The younger boy let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a squeak and Changbin smiled against his skin at how oddly cute it was. He continued to lick and suck at his rim, urging the sweetest melodies to flow from his lover. When he poked his tongue inside, Hyunjin laughed deliriously, drunk with pleasure. Changbin thrusted his tongue in and out of Hyunjin’s pretty hole while the younger urged him on with frantic praise, “Oh, Binnie-hyung! Your filthy mouth feels so fucking good on me! You eat my ass so well! Fuck, just like that! Eat my ass just like that, yes! Yes!”

He pushed back again and Bin gripped at his ass and thighs, leaving prints and crescent-shaped indents as he massaged the flesh and buried his tongue in further, sucking at his rim. Adding a single finger, Changbin pushed the digit in alongside his tongue only to discover that it went in far too easily. He hummed suspiciously and sat up on his heels, sliding two fingers in place of one and Hyunjin whined at the feeling. “Tell me, pup,” he prompted, wiping the spit from his chin with the back of his hand and pumped his fingers slowly. “What have you been doing that’s got your slutty hole so loose, hmm?”

Hyunjin whimpered, burying his face further into his folded arms. Changbin slapped his ass again, “Answer me, pup.”

“F-fingered my-myself in the s-shower before I got here,” he admitted shamefully, stuttering as he dared to look back at the elder with his eyes wide and pleading. “Th-thought of you the wh-whole time, h-hyung.”

How the younger went from filthy, dirty talk to bashful stuttering in two seconds flat continued to bewilder Changbin but he was thoroughly enjoying the rollercoaster that was Hyunjin. He grunted in approval, “Good boy.”

Hyunjin’s eyes practically rolled to the back of his head and he couldn’t help but rut against the couch at the blatant praise. Changbin snickered at him, plunging his fingers in even further but still avoided his prostate. “You gonna cum from my fingers, baby?” He questioned, adding a third digit and urging a shaky groan from the boy beneath him.

“No!” Hyunjin shook his head adamantly as he rocked back onto Changbin’s fingers. “Wanna cum- I wanna cum on your cock. Please, hyung. Fuck me, please!”

Changbin hummed, “But, pup. I haven’t got any lube. Your hole may be loose from fingering yourself but I don’t want to hurt you stuffing my cock in your ass without lube. I don’t have a condom either.” His tone was disparaging, laced with overly-dramatic dissatisfaction even though he was genuinely dissapointed; he really did want to fuck Hyunjin but the last thing he wanted was to really hurt him.

Hyunjin shook his head again and gestured off towards another part of the room. “Back pocket,” he huffed. “Jeans back pocket. Brought lube.” He swallowed, still panting as Changbin spread his fingers wide inside him. “Don’t need a condom. Wanna feel you, hyung, please.”

Changbin stilled, “Are you sure, baby?”

“We’re clean. Don’t need it,” the younger boy mumbled, “Want you.”

Pressing kisses against the base of Hyunjin’s spine, Bin slowly pulled out his fingers, “Alright, baby. I’ll be right back.”

He rose from the couch to search for Hyunjin’s jeans that he had tossed god knows where, shucking off his own pants in the process -- why he hadn’t taken them off up until then, he had no clue, but he was glad to be rid of them. After coming up empty handed fishing through one pocket, he found a small bottle of lube tucked away in the opposite side and cheered internally before returning to the sofa where Hyunjin was rutting desperately against the cushion in his impatience. Bin was suddenly thankful that the material was easy to clean as he was sure Hyunjin was making a mess of it and they both would make even more of a mess not using a condom. He shrugged off his worries and resumed his place between Hyunjin’s thighs, uncapping the lube and squeezing a generous amount onto his fingers.

Warming it, Changbin hovered his hand over Hyunjin’s twitching hole, “I’m going to open you up a little more, OK, pup?”

“Hurry, please,” the younger boy begged, “Want you.”

Pressing in, Bin reminded him, “Patience, baby,” even though he was becoming desperate himself. He scissored his fingers around, searching for that spot that would make Hyunjin see stars and beg even more for Changbin’s cock.

He knew he found it when Hyunjin jolted forward and let out a choked, gurgled sounding moan and he couldn’t help but chuckle when the younger boy whipped his head over his shoulder and glared at him. Dropping the honorifics, it was Hyunjin’s turn to growl, “Now, Changbin! Fuck me now!”

Bin retracted his hand and lifted both up in surrender, still smiling, “As you wish.”

Lubing up his neglected cock, Changbin hissed in sensitivity as he gave himself a few good tugs. He lightly smacked Hyunjin’s hip, “Up.” The younger boy immediately lifted his hips, rising to his knees while still leaning his forearms and the side of his face into the sofa cushion. “Good boy,” Bin praised, lining himself up and teasing Hyunjin’s fluttering hole with the head of his cock. He carefully pressed in, Hyunjin’s breath hitching with the initial stretch, going slow so the younger had time to adjust. When he was about halfway in, Changbin rubbed a comforting hand over Hyunjin’s lower back, “You OK, baby?”

“Ngh, more, more, please more,” he wailed, pushing back against the elder.

Changbin chuckled fondly and slid in the rest of the way, hips pressed snugly against Hyunjin’s ass. “There,” he breathed, barely above a whisper.

Hyunjin gripped at the edge of the cushion, “Fuck, you’re big!” Usually, Changbin would absolutely preen at that kind of glorifying but for some reason, he just blushed and let out the tiniest of squeaks.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, dropping his head forward onto Hyunjin’s back, barely changing the angle but it was enough for the younger boy to feel it.

“Oh!” Hyunjin shivered, breathing heavy as he reached back with one hand to grip at Changbin. His hand landed somewhere between his thigh and ass; he couldn’t tell where but he wasn’t complaining and immediately squeezed a handful of his thick body. Bin grunted and the younger laughed breathily, “Don’t apologize! You’re perfect! Just let me- don’t move for a minute. I gotta-”

Changbin tenderly covered the boy with his own body and whispered in his ear to calm him, “Thank you, Jinnie. You’re perfect, too.” He pressed gentle kisses along Hyunjin’s shoulder, smiling into his skin as he spoke. “Just relax, baby. Take your time. You let me know if it’s too much, OK? We’ll stop!”

“No, I want this! I want you! I just- you’re so-” Hyunjin’s words trailed off into a moan as he rolled his own hips. “Big! Feels so good! You feel so good, hyung!”

The elder squeezed his eyes shut, willing the urge to just pound into him to go away, and took a shaky breath, “Does it hurt?”

Hyunjin shook his head. “Uh-uh,” he slurred, “‘s just a lot.” After another minute or two, the younger boy nodded, “‘s OK, hyung. You can move.”

Changbin kept his position, mouthing at Hyunjin’s neck and shoulder to distract him somewhat, but he started to roll his hips experimentally. Little grunts and whimpers passed Hyunjin’s plush lips and Bin pressed sweet kisses to the side of his face, whispering praises in his ear, “My baby. So good for me. Love you, Jinnie. You feel amazing. You’re so beautiful, my pretty baby.”

Tears streaked Hyunjin’s cheeks and Changbin kissed them away, “Love you, hyung.” He squeezed the flesh in his grip, “Harder, please.”

Bin drew back his hips a little further each time he thrusted, mild but still powerful. Hyunjin’s grasp on his side fell away and instead, he reached up behind himself to thread his fingers through Changbin’s hair, keeping him close as the elder peppered his skin with kisses. Changbin nuzzled into him, whispering ‘I love you’s.

Hyunjin loved the pure bliss that he felt in Changbin’s arms, being smothered in love and praises. But he wanted to cum again. And he wanted to get fucked. Hard. So he begged for it like a good boy. “Please, more. I need more. Please fuck me harder, hyung! I need it! Please, hyung!”

Changbin straightened up with a low growl, “Such a good boy for me, begging so sweetly. I’ll give you what you want, baby.” His hands found Hyunjin’s hips, his hold tight and sure to leave prints, and he drew back, leaving just the tip of his cock in the younger’s tight hole before plunging in.

Hyunjin let out a shaky groan, wiggling his ass against Changbin’s hips. The elder held him tighter and repeated his deep thrust, reveling in the wanton moan it punched out of the boy under him. “You’re still so tight, baby. Feel so good around me, sucking me back in every time I pull out. So good for me!” He was transfixed as he watched his cock slide past Hyunjin’s tight ring of muscles.

Wailing and grunting and meeting Changbin’s thrusts, Hyunjin pleaded again, “Please, hyung! Fuck me! Pound my tight ass! Fuck me harder, please!”

Growling again, Changbin quickened his pace before lifting one leg, changing the angle and abruptly causing the most beautiful sounds to pass Hyunjin’s pillowy lips. He reduced him to sobs and whines, mewling instead of forming complete words and clawing at the couch cushions. Bin smirked through his exertion, laughing lightly at how much he had succeeded in ruining the boy.

He was nearing his climax and breathed out one last question he hoped the younger could somehow form a coherent answer to. “I’m close, pup. Where do you want my cum?”

“Ngh, in me. In me, inside, please cum in me, hyung. I need your cum, need you to cum inside, please, need you to fill me up,” Hyunjin cried, plenty coherently, thighs trembling as he felt heat pool in his own belly.

Changbin leaned over Hyunjin once more, one hand steady on his hip while the other reached around to fist at his dripping cock. “Gonna cum, pup? Gonna cum for me like a good boy?” The elder mumbled in his ear, tone almost taunting, “Gonna make a filthy mess of yourself again?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Hyunjin sobbed, “Please can I cum, hyung?”

Burying his nose into the younger boy’s neck, he smirked against his skin and gave him permission. “Of course, baby! Go ahead, cum on my cock.”

Whispering ‘thank you’s over and over again, Hyunjin’s body began to shake from how close he was. Changbin straightened up once again, effortlessly lifting Hyunjin’s knees off the sofa and he tugged just right and thrusted against the perfect spot and Hyunjin was done. Legs spasming, still clawing at the cushion he could reach, Hyunjin cried out, “Changbin! God, fuck!”

Ribbons of white sprayed over the sofa cushion and the younger boy’s walls tightened around Bin, tipping him over the edge. He stroked Hyunjin through his orgasm while he pumped him full of his cum. Changbin collapsed back on his heels, Hyunjin awkwardly falling into his lap, still connected to each other.

Using the microscopic amount of energy he had left, Hyunjin leaned back into Changbin and turned to place a lazy kiss against his jawline, melting into him as he let his battery recharge enough to make it back to the dorms.

Speaking of making it back to the dorms, Hyunjin looked down at himself and the mess of the couch in front of him and groaned. “We gotta clean up.”

“Good thing this is a pleather couch or else that stain would be a real bitch to get out,” Changbin chuckled, glancing around the room at the strewn about clothes in search of something to wipe up the mess with. His eyes landed on the roll of paper towels he kept on his desk for the frequent times he ate in his studio and subsequently spilled multiple things.

Bin’s mind whirled with various things as he silently stared at the paper towels on the other side of the room -- Hyunjin needs a shirt of some kind since he wiped up cum with his. I should have a spare hoodie in that bag over there. Chan’s probably still up even if no one else is. How are we gonna get past him without looking incredibly suspicious? Oh god, I just came in Hyunjin’s ass! That’s gonna leak out before we can get in the shower at home! Fuck! “Really wish I had a butt plug right now.”

Hyunjin snorted and turned to look at him, “Excuse me?”

“What? I- oh. I said that out loud,” Changbin grinned sheepishly. “It’s just- OK I’m not saying this to be kinky or anything but a butt plug would be convenient right now since I just came in your ass and we have to somehow make it back to the dorms, you know?”

Throwing his head back, Hyunjin laughed warmly, “I think I’ve got that handled, thanks. I’ll be fine.” Changbin nodded, still trying to come up with solutions to his other dilemmas. “Do you have an extra shirt? Mine’s kinda…” Hyunjin trailed off, gesturing at it on the floor next to the couch.

It was Bin’s turn to laugh. “Yeah. Hoodie in the bag over there,” he pointed in its direction before inclining his head towards his desk. “We can use the paper towels to clean up what we can. I’m gonna go grab them so I have to pull out now, OK?”

Hyunjin braced himself and nodded, both boys wincing in oversensitivity as Changbin moved Hyunjin off his lap, soft dick falling to his hip. When Bin returned to the sofa with the paper towels, he couldn’t help but laugh at Hyunjin who was desperately trying not to kneel or put a hand in the mess. “Sorry, sorry!” He rushed to help when the younger boy glared at him.

Once the couch was no longer a disaster and the two were as clean as they could be given the circumstances, they pulled their clothes on and Changbin gathered up his stuff before they headed for the dorms.

“How much you wanna bet Chan ‘knows’ we did something?” Hyunjin joked as they were walking down a stairwell.

Changbin let out a playful, pained noise, “Let’s just hope he’s preoccupied since we both know he won’t be sleeping.” Hyunjin nodded in agreement. “And if he’s not, don’t act suspicious!”

“Easy for you to say!”

Bin spoke up again a few moments later. “Was,” he hesitated, “Was that OK? I mean, was it good for you? Umm…”

Hyunjin took one look at Changbin’s clearly stressed expression and burst out laughing, “Yes, hyung. 10/10 would fuck again.”

The elder tried to hold back his own laugh but ultimately failed, “Oh, uhh, yeah, same.” Hyunjin knocked his hip, still giggling as he hooked their arms together.

When they arrived back at the dorms, much to their chagrin, Chan was waiting in the living room like a dad that was pissed with his teenage children for coming home way past curfew. “I had a feeling you two were up to something,” he squinted at them skeptically. “What did you do?”

“Fuck!” Changbin breathed in annoyance but Hyunjin took it the wrong way.

“Hyung, I thought you said we weren’t going to tell him what we did!”

Changbin felt like he was dying inside.

Chan just stared at the floor, entirely unwilling to make eye contact with either boy.

Hyunjin just giggled, “Oops?”

#stray kids #stray kids changbin #stray kids hyunjin #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #changbin smut #changbin fluff #changbin angst #hyunjin smut #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids changbin smut #stray kids changbin fluff #stray kids changbin angst #stray kids hyunjin smut #stray kids hyunjin fluff #stray kids hyunjin angst #kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop angst #bias/bias wrecker writing

[sweeethinny]

Hinny prompt: How far did Harry and Ginny go in Half Blood prince?

thanky you honey for the prompt :)

i love to think they didn't get very far, maybe even second base

but they were both teenagers at the height of hormones, so it's almost unreal that nothing ever happened.

i have had this idea in my mind for a while (since i read hpb), and i am happy to finally write it. ended up getting long, but I hope you like it!

AO3

WARMING SMUT

Harry and Ginny were kissing warmly in the empty Common Room, ignoring the beautiful day outside and the opportunity to play Quidditch, preferring to enjoy the unique moment where they were alone and by some miracle, Snape could not apply Harry's detention. They were clinging to the sofa at the back, a little hidden from the hole in the picture and the stairs in the dorms, and Harry suspected that a student had put him there just for those purposes.

‘’I’ve never been happier for a Slytherin to be stupid enough to take extra classes with Snape’’ Ginny sighed when Harry started kissing her neck, lifting her chin so he had more space

‘’We won’t talk about him while we’re kiss, thanks’’ She laughed, scraping her nails on her boyfriend’s scalp, breathing unevenly after all that moment, wanting him to continue his journey through her body ..

‘’I’ll have that conversation with McGonagall in a moment .. about my NOM’s and everything’’ Ginny reminded him ‘‘So we don’t have much time’’

''Am I going to need to kidnap you and take you hidden somewhere on the other side of the world, so that we can spend more than half an hour together, without one of us having to slip into any classroom?'' Harry sighed tiredly , laying his head on her breasts, as he breathed in the numbing fragrance and let himself be carried away by the sound of Ginny's laughter, which made her little body tremble slightly "Seriously, I will kidnap you sooner or later"

''It's not kidnapping if I want to go with you'' She shrugged, wrapping her legs around his, looking at the ceiling while enjoying the feeling of him there ''We can meet at night, after dinner .. It's impossible for Hermione want to study at that time''

‘’And where do you suggest? As beautiful as the night is outside, I don't think we'll be able to get more than half an hour without having to come back or someone interrupts us.'' Harry continued to lie down, hugging her waist and with his eyes closed, feeling safer than in the whole his life, almost sleeping with the calm movement of her chest rising and falling, her heart beating at the same rate as his being the best lullaby.

‘’Um ... in your room? I can manage to sneak into your bed’’ The boy barely opened his eyes, adjusting himself even more in the middle of her soft breasts, not paying much attention to where he was actually lying, just enjoying the moment

‘’Do you want your brother to cut my balls off? I always thought they might be a little useful to you at one time or another, you know’’ Ginny laughed, and Harry thought he had heard her laugh more often than in all the years they had spent together, which made him very proud

‘’Didn’t I say I’m going to protect you? Besides, I can use your cloak.'' He sighed, intoxicated by her scent, feeling the drowsiness building up behind his eyelids, and maybe just for that reason, he agreed with that crazy and suicidal idea of taking her to his dorm late of the night. The same one where he slept with her brother and his best friend (and let's not even talk about her ex, but Harry didn't really think Dean interfered much)

[...]

When night came, Harry barely remembered his commitment to Ginny, he took his shower, put on his pajama pants and kept his shirt off, the heat forcing him to do so. He and Ron talked about commonplace things and discussed the new magazine that his friend had purchased, which was far from familiar and educational.

‘‘I think she’s great’’ Seamus commented, tossed on his bed and looking at the page Ron had marked as the best of all

‘‘It’s the tattoo’’ Dean sighed ‘’Harry, what’s your opinion?’’ For some reason he thought Dean had questioned him mainly because he was on a tightrope about any answer he could give. Agree with that, Ron could end up with his balls, since he dated his younger sister. Not to agree, they would know he was lying, because Ashley was such a hot woman, there was no denying it, and even Ginny would confirm that.

He preferred to shrug ‘‘I think there are better’’ Basic, simple, and that implied that his girlfriend was in that circle - which was true, because only Merlin knows how many baths Harry has been taking lately.

When everyone finally decided to sleep, Harry closed his curtains, trying not to remember his girlfriend too much so he could really rest, but unable to avoid remembering her smell or the feeling of his kisses on her neck. Or when she was kneeling in the middle of his legs, reading a magazine and resting her head on one of his knees, looking barely paying attention to the fact that Harry was about to pass out.

‘‘Hey’’ Harry almost reached the bedroom ceiling when she whispered into his cubicle, Gin’s floating head popping out between the curtains as she smiled gloriously, raising her wand and casting protective spells over there. ‘’Nice chest’’ And with an almost idiotic shame, he pulled the cover up higher, protecting himself from the redhead who seemed to vibrate with excitement

''What the fuck are you doing here?'' She took off his cloak - which he didn't know how the hell she had stolen -, wore adorable pink shorts, not much shorter than he used to see her, the old shirt was a little tight and showing some of its creamy skin. Gin pulled the cloak off her body, and settling down beside him, smiling from ear to ear as she got comfortable on the other half of the pillow, right next to Harry still shocked

‘’Didn’t we agree?’’ Ginny wrapped her cold arm around his waist, pulling him to lie down again, burying her face in his bare chest. That at this point, it was echoing the violent beating of his heart ‘’You agreed with me’’

‘’I had my head on your breasts. I would agree to die’’ She laughed, shrugging and crawling up a little, coming face to face with him, noses a few inches away

‘’Please don’t agree to die just because it’s close to my breast’’ The brown eyes were quite dark due to the lack of light, but Harry could still see some of that caramel color that he loved so much. Only now, it looked a lot more like the color of the firewhiskey, and he would be drunk easily if they stayed that close.

‘’What are you doing here?’’ This time he laughed ‘’If Ron sees us ...’’

'' ..He's not going, we're protected'' Ginny came even closer, and instinctively he closed his eyes, smelling the delicious scent of flowers ''I just wanted to be with you, no worries that in a few minutes we need to run to some classroom or library ... Besides, I just need to get out of here a little bit before everyone wakes up, so we have a lot of time'' And she ended the distance, kissing him with an almost new calm, holding his face and tilting her body closer and closer to Harry's.

His hands were lost at the end of her spine, going down the delicious curve that ended in her soft ass, then passing through the firm thighs and staying there, before going up all over again and strolling through the ribs and stopping on the side of her left breast, who without much effort, Harry realized was unprotected from a bra. He groaned in his girlfriend's mouth, just at the thought.

"You're going to be the cause of my death," Ginny laughed, rolling them around until Harry was on his back on the mattress and she could mount him with agility, moving away from his lips and looking like the most beautiful thing he had ever seen .

''I'm happy to be me and not any other girl. Or the you-know-who’’ Harry smiled, happy that they were there, blinking almost anesthetized at the sight of her in his lap

''So do I, '' He admitted, like a fool in love who was ''You look beautiful'' He meant that he was never worried about his future, or any shit related to Horcrux when he was beside her, that he never he was as peaceful and happy as he was in those last days, that he never felt so ... alive. He also meant that he loved her, and that he was terrified of that feeling because he had never experienced anything like it.

''You're looking at me like that funny'' Even in the darkness, he could see her blush ''Stop it'' Ginny laughed, covering her boyfriend's face with her hands, and Harry bet his fortune that she looked like a tomato at that moment

‘’Can’t I say you’re beautiful anymore?’’ He would laugh next to her, spread her hands and look at her again

‘’No, I prefer you to kiss me’’ Harry who wouldn’t argue against that argument, leaning over to grab it again and get back to the common snogging between the two.

But it didn't seem like that was in Ginny's mind, not when she curiously ran her hands down Harry's bare chest and scraped her nails on the small dark hair path under his navel, over his pajamas and making him lose his breath

‘’Gin ... ’’ It sounded more like a snarl, the small hand touching him there, seeming to discover his entire territory, and consequently making him wake up completely.

‘’Let me do this’’ She asked, sucking on that tender spot behind his ear ‘‘I want to know what it’s like’’ Harry could die now, he decided, his balls retracting with the light feather stroke she was giving him

The kisses continued, much more fervent and hotter than they had ever been, Harry let his hands roam around her sides and with an impulsiveness that only came when he was close to Ginny, he grabbed her delicious breasts, as if they were the two most valuable snitch from the world, moaning at the sensation of softness against his rough hand and almost burning when she did the same in his mouth.

The caresses continued and Ginny started to move her hips in an almost deadly friction with Harry, looking inert to the movements she was making.

‘’Teach me’’ She asked euphorically, biting his lip before opening her burning eyes. Harry winced when her hand ventured into his already tight underwear.

Not knowing if he would be able to speak, he dropped one hand until he found hers, looking intently at his girlfriend as he wrapped her fingers around his own, squeezing a little more and adjusting to be as he liked, barely able to breathe when they started the movements together.

Tempted to simply close his eyes and fall back on the bed, Harry forced himself to continue exploring Ginny, because as much as it was delicious to feel her jerking off to him, the boy didn't want to be the only one to feel that happy.

''If you do that I won't be able to concentrate'' She moaned as he kissed her freckled collarbone, while his left hand also curiously dropped to the middle of her legs, feeling incredibly big and powerful when he realized that Ginny it was hot and humid.

'' We can handle it'' He kissed her mouth again ''I also need you to teach me'' Harry swallowed the grunt when Ginny's fingers ran under his balls, massaging them with a little care, as if she didn't know whether she was doing it right or not ''Fuck!'' His eyes rolled with sensation, his hips pushing up and making him lose consciousness for a few seconds

Ginny's free hand helped him into her panties, which meant that she had to get out of his lap and lie down on his side again, one leg still wrapped around his waist so he could gain space. Her folds were soft and slippery, and Harry did his best to remember when Seamus had brought that book about female anatomy, struggling to find Ginny's clitoris.

‘’Harry ... ’’ She moaned when he finally found it, squeezing it a little harder and almost making him come

''Gin .. '' He bit her shoulder, trying to contain himself with excitement as he adjusted to the pace that seemed to please the redhead, who started to become really noisy, moving her hips harder, her hand on Harry's cock gaining the same speed as his fingers.

‘’Harry’’ She moaned when he left only his thumb on her clitoris, curiously placing a finger inside it, which she squeezed like a vise, so hot that Harry thought he might be burned. They were no longer able to kiss or articulate coherent words, Harry was totally worried about not coming until he made Ginny at least get close

''Slow down if you don't want me to finish before you do'' He whispered a little lost, being very brave and putting another finger inside her, before heard her swallow a scream and then take it off quickly, feeling like an idiot for doing that ''Sorry!''

‘‘Don’t worry, put it on again’’ Ginny loosened her grip on his cock a little, finally looking at him, looking like a fucking Greek goddess in front of him. And Harry followed her request, hearing she moan gloriously as she pressed herself against his fingers

‘’I swear I’m going to pass out’’ He spoke again as soon as she combined the rhythm of his fingers with her hand. She laughed, looking a lot more amused than Harry thought appropriate for that moment

''Sorry, but I said I was going to lose my concentration'' And then they started kissing again, calmer, but without losing the rhythm of their hands, both of them climbing up to that cliff that looked too tempting not to jump, Harry coming there first, in a cut groan that seemed to break his skin, a thousand times better than any handjob alone in the bath, making him have blurred vision and lose his strength, letting his face fall in the curve of Ginny's neck, like a drunk after many firewhisky bottles.

Tempted to make her feel the same, he continued his work on his girlfriend, feeling her tighter and tighter, her nails digging into his shoulder blades as she moaned in his ear, her chest rising unevenly and his name coming out in the last seconds before finally coming, getting much more slippery and wet, as well as being red as fire.

Harry never thought she was as beautiful as she was then.

‘’That ... ’’ Ginny lowered her leg from Harry’s waist, swallowing hard as she looked at him in awe

‘’I hope your spell is really good’’ And as if only now she realized where she was, she opened her eyes wide, putting her hand over her mouth and blushing even more

"Did you ever wonder if we made too much noise?" Harry took his wand, cleaning up the mess they had made and then adjusting her and his pajamas before covering them again - at some point, the blanket had been tossed away from the bed - returning to settle on her soft breasts, feeling the happiest man in the world

''Your brother would have come here to kill me, you can be sure'' Harry assured me ''Gin, I ... '' Then he stopped, thinking that he couldn't lock her up like that, not when - now that his consciousness was finally back - he didn't know if he could be alive tomorrow. It would be unfair, and he would never forgive himself ‘’How did you get my cloak?’’ She smiled, snuggling closer and wrapping one of her legs around his waist, as if he were a big pillow

''I have my secrets .. '' Ginny kissed his forehead, not far from the scar, but none of them noticed, not at that moment at least, and Harry couldn't explain why he felt so safe and ... loved, but he was too tired to dissect his own mind.

The two slept embraced, tired, and the following year, when he fled on his suicide mission, feeling helpless and afraid, he used that memory as a refuge, finally realizing that Ginny had been the first person to touch his scar lovingly, and Harry was sure that she was the woman of his life, he just wasn't sure if he would have the chance to be the man of her

#hinny #missing moments #hinnyprompt #hinnysmut #Harry Potter #harry X ginny #hpb #harry potter and the half blood prince #missing moments half blood prince #read-a-hinny-fic #ginny weasley

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Yanois - Creating A Family

I started thinking about how Yancy and Illinois might take a step forward in their relationship. Normally, creating a sense of 'family' would be a good commitment to something long-term.

Then I remembered this equation included Illinois, and it wouldn't be something normal like a puppy.

Word Count: 1,925

-

"Nope. Nuh-uh. That's it. I'm officially calling bullshit." Yancy pulled away from the table where Illinois had been showing him photos of his last expedition in caves located in the southern half of the state once his classes had finished for the day. "I know youse is fond of these tall tales, but this is absolute bullshit."

"Yancy, darling, I expected better from you. I thought you know I always tell the truth about what happened while I was out of town. You know I’d never lie to you." The archaeologist put a hand to his heart to further emphasise this sense of betrayal, along with a pained expression that, to Yancy, was simultaneously fake and genuine.

"Youse is talking about meeting a dragon and that dragon asking a favour. We all know dragons ain't real."

"Have you met a dragon?"

"No."

"Then how do you know they aren't real?"

" 'Cause if they was real, they'd be all over the news. Youse know celebrities and other wealthy uppity-fucks would want a pet dragon so theys could show how big and important they is. And this ain't even considering- " Illinois cut Yancy off by abruptly shushing him. Annoyed by the interruption - Illinois was oddly obsessed with keeping everyone quiet today - Yancy scowled and folded his arms. In a quiet expression of gratitude for the silence, Illinois rested a hand on Yancy's left arm.

"Darling… I did meet a dragon while exploring those ruins… and I was entrusted with a special mission." Illinois took a slow breath and checked their surroundings to make sure no one had entered the makeshift classroom. He pulled one of Yancy's arms out of the fold so he could hold Yancy's hand and lead him to the desk. The prisoner had noticed it was messy, which wasn’t like Illinois at all. The briefcase was lying flat on the desk, with his jacket in a large ball on top of it. Illinois normally hung that on the back of the chair, so the chance of mannerisms was odd. Before Yancy could even consider how to ask if something was wrong, Illinois tugged his hand to encourage him to crouch down in front of the desk. Then, reaching over to the jacket, he gently lifted a sleeve to reveal what was hiding underneath.

"What the fuck…" Yancy leaned in to examine it better, though Illinois yanked him back before he got too close. A reptile's head that was smaller than Yancy's hand was poking out of the material. Its scales were ochre, with a pair of tiny horns on the top of its head. Several small protrusions trailed down either side of its jaw. It was asleep, blissfully unaware of the human staring at it. Illinois's attention was on Yancy, carefully assessing the reaction. Just as Yancy was about to express doubt, Illinois lifted more of the jacket out of the way to show part of the upper body and -

"Is that a wing?" Yancy whispered. Illinois nodded. "But what - how - youse -?"

-

Illinois shook his head and put a finger to his lips. Yancy clasped his hands over his mouth with an apologetic look. Illinois draped the 'blanket' back over the dragon chick and lifted a journal sealed shut with a lock. He led Yancy back to the table they had been originally standing by. The prisoner didn't object, instead reeling at what he just saw.

Illinois pushed some of the books aside so he could place down the journal. Yancy didn't know much about it, bar that it was filled with notes that Illinois kept for himself, rather than for use in classes or talks. It was old, with a worn black leather cover and pages bulked out with things stuck on over years of writing in it. In the entire time Yancy had known Illinois, this was the first time he had seen Illinois fetch the key from around his neck and unlock it. Illinois flipped through the journal to find what he was looking for, and Yancy could catch glimpses of various photos: old items, a large wolf, something with a long neck coming out of water. Then, Illinois found the notes he was looking for and passed the journal to Yancy. To the prisoner's utter bewilderment, there were several photographs stuck onto the two pages. At first, it was simply cave photos with focus on odd rock formations or mysterious animal trackings, then a large winged reptile with shimmering copper scales glaring down at the camera. Underneath was some writing in scratch-like symbols, with a small circle of the page scorched. Illinois’ signature was underneath it. Yancy was allowed the time to stare at the pages, dumbfounded, as Illinois quietly explained himself.

"I met the dragon guarding this tiny baby. It was the last of a clutch to hatch, the runt of the brood. Her mate had brought the other chicks, which were at least two seasons older, to a colder location to help them develop. The youngest wouldn't be able to survive such a journey, no matter how careful the parents were, due to her fragility. The mother made me promise to keep her safe until it was safe for them to return to the caves." Illinois leaned over Yancy's shoulder to turn the page. A photo of the young golden dragon curled up in a nest in the cave was pasted on the left side, while some writing on the opposite side was cut off by tiny bite marks that had torn a corner of the paper.

"I'm only to be a guardian to help keep her safe until her family can collect her, but I can't help but feel a sense of attachment already. I've named her Aurelia, though she is a special little miracle." When Yancy's eyebrow quirked in confusion, Illinois continued, "As I said, she is the runt - that is to say, the youngest who suffered a minor complication before her egg was laid. Her chances of survival were slim, but me arriving when I did truly saved her life. She's at the age where she needs to be kept warm while she sleeps so she has as much time to grow… But she's so energetic and curious about the world when she is awake. I’ve already caught her flapping her wings after climbing somewhere taller than her, even though she’s far too young to fly. I know she’s going to grow up into someone wonderful…” Another page was flipped, revealing a collage of photographs of Aurelia: her asleep over several history books, her trapped under Illinois' hat, even a selfie of the pair. It made Yancy hesitate as he looked at Illinois.

"But… if youse is 'sposed to be keeping her safe, why tell me? Don't that go against that promise?"

"I tell you because I trust you with all my heart… and I want you to -" Illinois' head sharply turned at a sound that was so faint, Yancy had missed it completely. The archaeologist hurried over to the desk and lifted the bundle into his arms. It was gently rocked as he moved some of the light fabric out of the way. "I thought I heard you stirring, young lady. You had a nice big sleep, didn't you? You didn't even make a peep when everything was so loud and busy!"

Yancy was briefly stunned. He wasn't used to familial bonds of any sort anymore, yet something about how Illinois behaved toward Aurelia was so endearing to him, like a doting parent in that children's movie he had watched with Sparkles McGee. Was it bad that he wanted to see this side of Illinois more often? 

"I have someone special for you to meet since you’ve been so good all day." As though reading his mind, Illinois made his way over to the prisoner. It was clear why Illinois was so enamoured by the chick. In stark contrast to the body, her big eyes were sky blue. They were locked on the stranger while her head tilted slightly in curiosity. "This is Yancy. Yancy, this is Aureli- hey!" Yancy gasped as the dragon suddenly began chirping and squirming in Illinois' hold.  

"Easy there, sweetheart! He's not going anywhere!" Illinois laughed, before grinning at Yancy. "She wants you to hold her. I promise she won’t bite."

"But I dunno how -" Yancy tried to answer, but Aurelia interrupted with a hiss as she continued trying to tug herself out of Illinois' jacket. "Okay, okay! I'll try. B-but I hope you knows I ain't used to being around anyone so tiny." It didn't stop Illinois from unwrapping the jacket and freeing the chick. The moment she felt the material being pulled away, Aurelia pounced at Yancy, who barely had a moment to catch her with both hands under her front legs.

"Hold your arm like this - no, no, just a little higher - perfect." Illinois spoke softly as he guided Yancy on how best to hold Aurelia in the crook of his arm. She was around the size of a chihuahua and was quick to nestle against Yancy with her stomach facing up. "Oh, that's a good sign. She trusts you." The prisoner gave Illinois a look of concern, but decided to bite the bullet and rub a finger under her neck. To his surprise, Aurelia made a noise that almost sounded like a laugh as she suddenly wriggled. Yancy stopped abruptly in alarm, which prompted Aurelia to lift her head and look at him. She growled in confusion. With a nod of encouragement from Illinois, Yancy repeated his action, switching it up from lightly scratching her neck to tickling her. This time, he didn't stop as the young dragon's tail lashed against his arm in her delight. When she was given a moment to catch her breath, she scrambled up to rest her back legs on his arm and her forearms against his chest so she could reach up and nuzzle Yancy's jaw with what he could only compare to a pigeon coo. 

"I may have been telling her about you before today," Illinois admitted as Yancy cautiously scratched the back of her head. "When I told her I was coming here, she was adamant in coming along. She was very excited to meet her foster papa."

"F-Foster papa?"

"Of course. I'm her foster father, and you're my partner. So it makes sense that -"

"N-no, I get that but… You sure about this? It's a big jump in our relationship since I’m still in here and youse two will be out there a-and it's a dragon which I dunno shit about and - I-I didn't even know dragons existed until ten minutes ago." 

"Easy, tiger. Slow down." He kissed Yancy on the cheek to interrupt the panicked rambling. "I'm very sure. I told you I wanted you in my life, remember? That includes whatever makes up my family. It just wouldn't be the same without you, if you ask me." Aurelia lightly bit Yancy's chin, almost seeming to be agreeing with her foster father. Though he was a little doubtful, Illinois’ reassuring smile was enough for Yancy to lower his guard.

"A family… It's been a long time since I thought myself part of one of them." Aurelia lightly headbutted Yancy’s chin as though quietly affirming that this was real.  He laughed and scratched her cheek. “Youse is already getting to be quite the charmer like your foster father, y’know that?” He paused, throwing Illinois a suspicious look. “No making tiny hats for her.”

“No promises, sugar.”

#yanois #illinois ahwm #yancy ahwm #yancy the prisoner #dragon #writersofmark #a heist with markiplier #(sometimes you just gotta give the boys a baby dragon) #(and that's what makes a family)

[greyhavensking]

100 Followers Celebration!

God, I’m late with this, but I finally passed the 100 follower milestone and I wanted to do something for it to show my appreciation. That something turned out to be almost 3000 words of emotional hurt/comfort and dumb boys in love, so I hope someone enjoys it.

I can’t even express how grateful I am to have (over!!!) 100 people think I’m worthy of following when mostly I just reblog other people’s posts and scream in the tags, but this is me trying to get the point across. Thank you, thank you, thank you to the people who continue to tolerate my bullshit and occasionally encourage my sad stucky edits and my angsty fluff fanfics. You’re all amazing and wonderful people!

Also cross-posted on Ao3 here.

you left your mark on me like footprints in the snow

“Buck, you awake?”

It’s sort of a moot point, seeing as Bucky — light sleeper that he is — would have woken up the second Steve stepped across the threshold of the living room, but he feels compelled to ask nonetheless. His ma was a stickler for courtesy, especially when it didn’t cost anyone a dime, and while he can’t quite manage to defer to politeness when it comes to aggravating superiors, it comes easy as breathing with most everyone else.

Bucky isn’t everyone else, and half the time Steve doesn’t bother filtering himself around him, but tonight—

Tonight’s a bad night.

But it’s not Bucky’s night for a change.

As Steve pauses at the back of the couch, arms crossed and head ducked, he sees Bucky smoothly push himself up into a sitting position from where he was stretched across the cushions, rolling his shoulders back as he scrubs his flesh and blood hand over his face. He was awake, judging by the dog-eared book he lets slide to the floor; Steve can’t make out the cover from this angle, but he’d bet anything it’s one of those YA novels Sam recommended to him that he refuses to thank Sam for. Something about Greek gods and terribly unlucky teenagers. Steve doesn’t go for fantasy often, but he knows Bucky’s been plowing through the series for the last few weeks.

“I’m always awake,” Bucky says once he’s gotten a good look at Steve, despite Steve’s best efforts to tuck all the visible hurt away behind an admittedly shaky smile. He’s joking, mostly — when Bucky first came home, he rarely got more than an hour or two of sleep before some imagined threat had him prowling the confines of the apartment, checking and rechecking the locks and the security system. Nowadays his sleepless nights are still disturbingly frequent, but not every night, and he can usually pass them by reading or watching whatever he finds most interesting on TV. 

Bucky quirks a brow when Steve remains silent, tilting his head. Assessing. “You, though,” he continues as if he hadn’t paused at all, “you should be dead to the world, Rogers. Sawing logs, or whatever it is they say when you snore louder than a damn foghorn.”

“I don’t — I don’t snore,” Steve bites out, reflexive, which just gets Bucky’s other brow jumping up to join the first.

“So it’s one of those nights, huh.” Bucky nods to himself, twisting around on the couch to lean back against the armrest, legs spread invitingly. He pats the space between his thighs. “Good thing I’m a certified Steve Rogers expert and know exactly what you need.”

Steve considers refuting that claim, but he can’t bring himself to bother with it. A flare of indignation does pulse under his skin (he hates the idea that he needs to be managed), though it peters out just as quickly as it came, taking with it the last shred of warmth Steve’s been clinging to since he slipped out from beneath his bed covers. Bucky’s right, anyway; this is what Steve needs, something they’ve pieced together in the months after Bucky felt safe enough to put himself back into Steve’s orbit.

Rubbing briskly at his upper arms, more for something to do with his hands than any hope of warming himself up, Steve hesitates another moment before he sighs and climbs over the back of the couch to crawl in between Bucky’s legs. Bucky wraps his arms around Steve’s waist instantly, tugging him until his back is flush with Bucky’s chest. He noses at the nape of Steve’s neck, presses a kiss there that has a delightful shiver rippling down Steve’s spine, then wedges his chin into the space between neck and shoulder.

“What’s the threat level with this one?” Bucky asks quietly. Threat level is their established short-hand for how bad a nightmare was, what kind of toll it took on them. It’s easier getting that out than something like I woke up crying reaching for you can’t get my heart to calm down can’t breathe woke up alone and had to bite back a scream, and Steve can admit that Bucky’s nothing short of a goddamn genius for giving Steve a way to explain without explaining. 

“‘Bout a seven,” Steve says, which means it’s closer to a nine than he’d like. He can still feel the phantom chill of wind and snow on his face, the ice-clogged water in his lungs, arms outstretched but grasping at nothing nothing nothing. Bucky’s face, frozen over and glassy-eyed. No air, no breath, no life in either of them — but Steve, undead, trapped below the ice, forced to watch it all play out on repeat—

“Uh-huh. Seven. Sure, I’ll go with that for now.” Bucky’s voice is right against his ear, his breath warm, the solid weight of him so very real that Steve shudders again, leaning into him even though there’s hardly space left between them to close. “You need me to do anything extra special?”

Steve shakes his head, then pauses, reconsiders. “Keep talking?” 

His nightmares are — strange. They’re quiet, mostly, unless they involve the train, and then it’s the clack-clack-clack of the tracks, the high-pitched whistling of the wind, his own desperate screams. But when it’s the ice… it’s almost silent. Like an old film, the reels spinning on soundlessly around him. Colors are muted, too, shades of gray and blue and the occasional vibrant streak of red that could be blood, could be his suit, could be the afterimage of staring too long into a bright light. 

Bucky huffs a laugh and tightens his arms around Steve, and in return Steve shifts to lay his hands over Bucky’s skin, one sliding along his forearm, the other reaching down to slip under the hem of Bucky’s shorts. He’d grab the metal arm (it doesn’t bother him, and it’s body temperature from being tucked under Bucky on the couch) but he needs skin right now, and he knows Bucky doesn’t begrudge him it.

“Talking,” Bucky murmurs. “You gotta pick the one thing I’m no good at anymore, don’t ya. No, no, don’t start,” he says, reading the tensing of Steve’s body all too well, and Steve slumps back into his hold, caught out. “I’m not sayin’ I won’t do it, and I’m not gettin’ all self-deprecating on you, either. Words are hard, sweetheart, you know that.”

“Sorry, Buck. We can just put the TV on, or—”

“I said it’s fine, Rogers. Relax. I’m not in the habit of doing things I don’t want to these days, even for you, which is a goddamn miracle considering all the shit I put up with for your benefit when we were kids. Christ.”

Steve rolls his eyes, which he knows is the exact reaction Bucky was going for. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’d I talk you into that was so bad?”

“God, Steve, Snow White? How many times d’we see that in theaters?”

“What? You loved that movie!”

“No, you loved that movie, despite being fuckin’ colorblind. I went because I’m a goddamn sap and I couldn’t get enough of the wide-eyed baby deer act you pulled every time you got to see all that animation in action. You sparkled, Steve, it was addicting.”

“What?”

“Whaddya mean, what? Can’t a guy get all sentimental over how cute his best guy looked staring adoringly at a cartoon?”

“No, I mean— you went for me? We weren’t even…”

“First of all, jackass, I don’t gotta be in love with someone to wanna see them happy. Second, I honestly can’t tell you if I realized that I was in love with you back then. It’s all mixed up with how I definitely felt during the war, and then with everything that came with thawing out here.”

Hold on— 

“Bucky. Bucky. The war?”

Steve’s half-twisted around in Bucky’s arms now, staring at him, slack-jawed, because they’ve never had this conversation before. Nothing even close to this has ever come up between them. When they got together this century, they only acknowledged that they’d never considered doing so back in the thirties, that their feelings only really surfaced now because they finally had a moment to rest without the fear of discovery hanging over their heads. Bucky has never breathed a word of loving Steve at any point before that.

But Bucky doesn’t seem to understand what’s running through Steve’s head, because his brows furrow as he stares right back at Steve. “Why are you acting so surprised? You think I curled up with you every night just ‘cause I was cold?” He pauses. “I mean, alright, yes, I was freezing and you were a goddamn furnace all of a sudden, but—”

“You have never said shit about this, Barnes, what the fuck?”

And there’s Bucky rising to the challenge in Steve’s voice, lifting his chin and narrowing his eyes. Refusing to let go of Steve, though, for which he’s grateful; he needs the grounding weight of him all the more in this moment.

“I ain’t exactly proud of it, Steve. You and Carter? Fuck, you made my blood boil with her.”

Steve blinks. Blinks again, shakes his head like that’ll make Bucky’s words fall into a neat little line he can actually understand. He feels Bucky’s chest expand as he breathes in deep, feels it deflate as he lets it out in a heavy sigh. His eyes are nearly silver in this light, and so sheepish that Steve just wants to set this aside and kiss on him until he’s smiling again. But — he wants to know, fuck, he doesn’t like secrets between them anymore, and he knows Bucky’s the same way. It’s not the best time to get into this, but really, in the grand scheme of things… it’s as good a time as they’ll get.

“God, alright. I was jealous, okay? Whether or not I knew what you were to me while we were still in Brooklyn, I sure as hell knew it then when I was watching you two dance around each other for months. The way you’d stare after her, the way she tucked herself right into your side whenever you were in the same room… I was sick with it, hatin’ her and hatin’ myself for feeling that way when I didn’t have a fuckin’ claim to you. When you were happy with her and I couldn’t make myself be happy for you. You think I like admitting I couldn’t put my best friend’s happiness above my own bruised ego?”

“Buck…”

“Aw, don’t look like that, sweetheart. Was my own fault for never saying anything. And, well, for all I knew back then you were straight as an arrow. You thought you were pretty straight, as I recall. Maybe it woulda just driven a wedge between us if I’d said something.”

“Fuck that.” The words are whispered, but they get Steve’s point across just fine — it’s Bucky’s turn to blink, leaning away from Steve slightly like he needs a better look at him to process what he’s just heard. Steve just follows him, getting his knees under him so he can cup Bucky’s face in both palms, holding him close. “Fuck that. I always loved you, Bucky Barnes. Platonic, romantic, doesn’t fucking matter. If you think for one second I woulda left you over something like that—”

Bucky laughs again, a quick, sharp little thing that barely interrupts Steve’s vehement protests, but the kiss Bucky plants on his lips does the job of getting his attention.

“What a stubborn asshole you are, sweetheart.”

Scowling, Steve kisses Bucky again, harder this time but still achingly sweet. “You think I’m lyin’?”

“Do I look like an idiot? No, I don’t think you’re lying, but that’s what you’re saying now, with the glorious gift of hindsight. You can’t say for sure that’s how you would have reacted, and I wouldn’t have blamed you for it.”

“One more time, Barnes, ‘cause I do think you’re a little slow on the uptake tonight. Fuck that. You got my ass through every fuckin’ illness that so much as looked at our borough, got me through ma’s death… you think you catchin’ feelings was gonna scare me away? I was afraid of you leaving, god, I woulda clung to you forever if you let me, even if you got married, had kids, whatever. I probably wouldn’t have believed you could like me, but I wouldn’t have been mad at you over it.”

It’s quiet between them once Steve’s gotten it all out of his system, save for his heart thudding in his chest and their quickened breathing, the tick-tick-tick of the ceiling fan above them. Steve refuses to look away from Bucky’s searching gaze, and god, yes, he’s a stubborn asshole, but he’s also right! He’s right and he’s going to prove that to Bucky, one way or another, because this is too important to let go. He doesn’t want Bucky thinking even for a second that there is a scenario where Steve would throw him over for someone else. Anyone Steve loved — anyone who loved Steve — would have had to accept that Bucky came first, always.

In hindsight, Steve maybe should’ve figured out his own damn feelings long before he reached the 21st century, but that wasn’t exactly his point right now. 

Steve doesn’t know how long they sit there like that, holding one another without saying a word, but he doesn’t tear his eyes away from Bucky’s for a single moment of it, willing him to understand that he’s always been Steve’s anchor, his touchstone — that absolutely nothing short of death could ever come between them, and fuck, even that didn’t stick. And he thinks Bucky might be getting there, the way a slow, tremulous smile spreads across his face, a flush high on his cheeks that does things to Steve’s heart. 

“I love you.”

Steve’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, automatic, ducking his head down to press into Bucky’s neck, the fabric of his worn t-shirt soft against Steve’s cheek. It’s far from the first time either of them have said it, but Steve still gets so giddy over it, knowing he gets to have this, have Bucky, to hold and kiss and adore this man in his arms for as long as they’re both alive… it’s heady, and something Steve doesn’t want to take for granted, not even for a second. The road they took to get here was too brutal for Steve not to be damn grateful for every moment they have together. 

Which means he doesn’t mind the teasing they get from the rest of the team, the not-so-sly remarks and gratuitous eye rolls that Sam and Natasha are so fond of, the downright lewd shit that gets thrown right back in Tony’s face when Bucky reminds them all that neither of them are innocent grandpas. 

It’s all part of getting to love Bucky the way he deserves, the way he’s always and will always deserve, and if there’s one thing about the future that Steve unequivocally loves, it’s that he can be as open as he wants about just how much he loves Bucky. And, if people do have a problem with it, Steve can kick their asses — mostly over Twitter, but still. He’s a fan.

“Love you too, Buck.”

Bucky hums, content, and readjusts so that Steve is mostly laying flat on top of him, the both of them stretched out across the couch. He snags the blanket from where it’s half-spilled onto the floor, draping it over Steve enough that it covers the majority of their bodies. Steve snuggles in, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s back, giving him a gentle squeeze to show his appreciation. 

He’s all but forgotten the phantom cold that drove him out here in the first place.

“Wanna try going back to sleep?” Bucky murmurs, rubbing circles into Steve’s back.

“Nah. You’re still gonna be here, don’t wanna sleep alone.”

“Mm, fair point. You just gonna lay here, then?”

He could, Bucky won’t protest his weight or the company. “Yeah. Right where I wanna be. You could read to me, though?”

“I’m in the middle of the book, Rogers, you won’t have any clue what’s going on.”

“Just like the sound of your voice, Buck. It’s soothing,” Steve argues, and he’s slurring his words a little, he knows, but he doesn’t care and Bucky doesn’t call him out on it. “Read to me?”

He feels the rumble of Bucky’s laughter in his own chest, pressed right up against him, then the shift of the couch as Bucky grabs his book from the floor and braces it against the dip in Steve’s spine so he can read.

And yeah, Bucky’s right — Steve couldn’t tell you a thing about what’s happening in the book right now (there are gods and monsters and quippy teenagers, but none of it settles quite right in his brain, none of it takes any recognizable shape) but he couldn’t be happier regardless.

Turns out it’s not so bad of a night after all. 

#stucky #stevebucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky fanfic #fanfic #my fic

[stetervault]

Steter fics from 2019/any Steter fics you feel like reccing

2019 Steter fics, let’s see… Here’s a bunch of random ones I’ve enjoyed over the past year:

Where I Want to Be by Tahlruil

Peter wasn’t exactly surprised when he ‘woke up’ in hell.

He’d known his wounds were fatal as soon as he’d gotten them. In truth he’d never expected to still be standing after his quest for revenge had been completed. What mattered was taking the Argent family down with him and making sure they died before he did. Peter had saved Kate and Gerard for last; they had looked into his eyes as they bled out. They had known that he was the instrument of their family’s doom and he couldn’t ask for more than that.

You Are A Call To Motion by neglectedtuesday

Here at Hale Industries ® we don’t believe in limiting one’s pleasure. That’s why we’re dedicated to bringing our clientele the best in Jackbot technology. Whether you’re a busy dom in need of a service sub or a baby boy desperate for an Alien Daddy, Hale Industries ® has the perfect bot for you. Built to your specifications, our customer service team is devoted to building a bot that will never fail to meet your needs. And if you discover something new you want to try, you can subscribe to our monthly upgrade packages in order to add or remove kinks at your leisure.

Hale Industries ® - The Only Limits Are The Ones We Place On Ourselves.

Here Begins the Land of Phantoms by Triangulum

Stiles is four and scared of the dark. There are things in the shadows of his room, whispering to him, showing him terrible, violent things.

There’s something in the basement, too. He can feel it while he’s sitting on the old, worn sofa, its presence curling around the edges of the room. He thinks he can see something sometimes, a mass shimmering in the corner, but he always looks away. He doesn’t want to know.

Or

Peter is a demon that lives in the Stilinskis’ basement.

From Ashes Rebuilt by ambersagen

“You shouldn’t be alive,” Stiles finally admitted. He sounded sorry, smelled like anxiety and hunched in on himself as he fell back from Peter to land in the dented chair. “I heard the doctors telling your niece. She wasn’t quiet about it, and no one cares if I’m around anyway so I heard the whole thing, about your burns. I snuck in to see you.”

“Like a sideshow freak,” Peter sneered, starting to understand.

“Like a miracle,” Stiles corrected.

MCSZ-LW by Bunnywest

Mayor Whittemore gives John his widest politician’s smile. “It’s one of the best- a Halebot. You work so hard for the city, and with Claudia gone five years now, we thought you’d appreciate some company. A service bot is perfect. I mean, you deserve more than the standard gift certificate. “

“Would have preferred the gift card,” John huffs under his breath, but he plasters on a smile and makes all the right noises, because this is an elected position, and as jackbots go, Halebots really are the best. He just doesn’t know quite what he’s going to do with it.

Baby Whisperer by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

“What. Is that.”

Scott looked up at him, apprehensive.

“Her name’s Lily.”

Stiles stared at the fuzzy head peeking out of the papoose.

“Her. Her name. That is a real live human baby. Oh my God-”

“Actually I don’t know if she’s human?” Scott said with a confused frown. “Becca didn’t say.”

“Who the fuck is Becca?!”

Care for Me, As I’ve Never Known by lavenderlotion

“Why…why did you offer me the bite?” Stiles asked quietly, the cover of night and the hum of the Jeep’s engine giving him courage he wouldn’t usually have.

Peter hummed thoughtfully, taking a turn smoothly. “That is quite the question you’re asking. I’m not sure the answer is one you would be happy to hear.”

A Love for Millennia (a story never told) by OneSmartChicken

Stiles had to go into the woods that night. It didn’t make sense. She was lured by the sense of adventure, but there was a more that dragged at her.

Or: Stiles is the only one to realize she and Peter are soulmates. She doesn’t mention it.

Wind Chimes by wynnebat

“Why are you here?” Peter asks, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I can understand curiosity, but Stiles, you have visited me nearly every day for years. It can’t be that simple.”

Stiles shrugs. It’s both simple and not. For him, who grew up with the wind, who is inseparable from it in the best of ways, it is absurdly simple. For Peter, who doesn’t trust the wind as Stiles does, it may not be. “The wind says you’re mine. That’s all I need.”

Robber Foxes (Have No Fears) by RayShippouUchiha (WIP)

In the end all Stiles really has left is his dad, a lonely house, the key and deed to the loft, and a chest filled up with emptiness.

A void, yawning right behind his sternum.

That and the laughter of a fox trapped right beneath his skin, echoing in the hollows of his skull, whispering behind his teeth.

Stiles should have known it wasn’t over.

Magic stains everything it touches after all.

Keep You (Safe) Within my Shadow by lavenderlotion

Stiles has never been scared of the dark. The shadows are his friends.

Into Eden by GracieBirdie

Stiles deciding to bring home the stray alpha he’d hit with his jeep probably made him certifiable, if it hadn’t turned out Peter was as crazy as he was.

Trust in the End by ShebaRen, Tahlruil

Stiles had always kind of assumed that the end of the world was going to be full of fire and panicking people. Nuclear warfare had pretty much been his guess as to how it would all go, but he could be flexible on that. His only certainty was that it would be man-made, because people always messed things up.

He hadn’t expected the end to be full of snow and freezing cold. He hadn’t expected to be so alone while it was happening, hadn’t thought he would be making a trek from California all the way up to - if his maps and bearings were right - Washington State. He definitely hadn’t expected for it all to happen while his parents were away on a trip for their second honeymoon.

Thankfully he’d fallen in with a wolf who had saved his life and then hung around like a bad penny afterward.

Making Marks by Udunie

Stiles woke to his phone ringing at four in the afternoon, because apparently, he’d never even heard of a healthy sleep schedule before, and also; hated himself.

He blindly found it in the pocket of his jeans thrown haphazardly to the floor, and blinked at it for a few seconds before picking it up.

“‘Sup, Lyds?” he asked, just because he knew she hated the nickname, and she did wake him up.

“I’m killing Jackson,” she announced with unusual honesty. To be fair, any kind of honesty was unusual from her, considering her and Stiles only reconnected recently - and it wasn’t like they were too close in high school either.

“Congratulations?”

You Just Got Ghosted! by Ragga

“What’s your name, angel?” little Stiles murmured even as his eyes fell closed, quickly losing his battle against sleep.

Stiles smiled. It was a little sad but also heavy with the knowledge that what he was doing was the right thing—heavy with the knowledge he didn’t deserve the moniker bestowed upon him.

“You can call me Mietek.”

Or the one where there’s time travel, feels abound, two Stiles in one timeline, and one of them stuck somewhere between the planes of existence. Yet a ghost can still manage to save the day and get the girl. Or the wolf. Manly wolf. Because Peter.

Toothed Morality (Send Me Flowers) by rightsidethru

“The world is a dark place, moje kochanie; it is one filled with monsters, always ready to gobble you whole. Be wary of the promises they give: seal every vow with blood and bone and Name. A True Name, one that will bind them to their word.”

“But how will I know that they’re telling the truth, Matka? Couldn’t they lie…?”

“You’ll know, mały płomień.”

Everyone is King When There’s No One Left to Pawn by Bittah_Wizard

The AU where Stiles is an old trickster—just not the one you’re thinking of.

Beefcake Mountain by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

Shortly after moving back to Beacon Hills, the left hand of the Hale Pack opened a text from a mysterious number.

“Is there a mirror in your pants? Because I can see myself in them.”

What the f—

Wild Creatures by neglectedtuesday

The treaty is signed while Stiles is being laced into his wedding corset. Ink splatters parchment as a maid pulls the ribbons, tighter and tighter. Stiles’ breath and future are taken away, all to save a village. He is a sacrifice more than a bride. The maid assists in fixing a choker around Stiles throat. Her hands are cold despite the roaring fire in the grate. The choker is a string of blood red rubies, they reflect the firelight with a wet shine like an open wound.

First to Know by Twisted_Mind

They fold to their knees in the vee of his legs. His hands cradle their cheek and the back of their neck, and they lean into the touch, eyes closing. “It’s mine.”

“What’s yours, darling?”

They drag in a shaky breath, and look up into the face of the man they love. “The magic. It’s mine. My spark did this.”

Chances by SpookyMiscreant

Supernaturals have soulmarks, everyone knew that, but it was ignorant to think that supernaturals only fell in love with supernaturals. It wasn’t necessarily rare for humans to have marks, but not common either. Supernatural kids all anxiously await the full moon after their fifth birthday, but human kids let the full moon pass without much anticipation.Stiles’ mother had made him stay up that night in his underwear as she searched him with a flashlight, intent to see if he was supernatural like his father. The inherent problem here was that Stiles was then and always will be covered head to toe in moles, freckles, and birthmarks.

walk walk (fashion baby) by rightsidethru

Derek shrugged a shoulder and moved the chopsticks through the broth. “Cora’s decided that she wants to transfer out to Berkley, and Uncle Peter has decided to relocate here again. Unfortunately, his reputation is preceding him and not even the three grand we’re offering for the photoshoot is enough to get a model to stay.”

At hearing the amount of money that Derek was actually offering to pay someone for one temporary job, Stiles choked on his noodles and began wheezing for breath as he went into a coughing fit. “Three? Three grand? Three thousand dollars??”

Three thousand dollars would be enough to pay for his rent for the next few months. Or—pay for the upcoming month and give Stiles a chance to buy some of the more advanced books on magical theory that Elder Potter was willing to let Stiles borrow but not keep. Being able to buy his own copies… Stiles’ fingers twitched in almost immediate booklust.

“I’ll do it,” Stiles announced.

Cause I Want You (all to myself) by LadySlytherin

Stiles has an odd habit of licking Peter, seemingly at random and without much thought. Peter takes a lot longer than he should to figure out why.

or

Six Times Stiles Stilinski Licked Peter Hale…and one time Peter licked Stiles instead.

If I Could Kiss You Again by Triangulum

“Summer plans?” Peter asks, eyes on where Isaac is now trying to inch along the ceiling beam toward the wall where he can slide down a pipe.

“Leaving for Stanford in September. Saving the world and working in between now and then,” Stiles says. “Why, gonna miss me?”

“Considering I’ll be left alone with Derek? Yes,” Peter says.

“You’ll have Cora,” Stiles says. “And Isaac will be here to make up a few high school credits.”

There’s a shriek and a thud as Isaac loses his grip, falling on top of Erica and Boyd, sending them all to the ground in a heap.

“Yes,” Peter says flatly. “Thank god for that.”

OR

Five times Stiles kisses Peter and one time Peter kisses him.

Orbital Distance by neglectedtuesday

Artemis, the capital city of the Moon, where movies are born and stars are made. The crown jewel of American cinema and simultaneously Hollywood’s biggest rival. The money may be dollars, it may be counted as the 51st state but the studios run this city, making cinema and waging war. No real bloodshed but equally cutthroat in its own way. Peter has devoured article after article about the industry, from in-depth journalism to gossip rags, desperate for every detail, every scandal, every glorious moon moment.

Hooverville by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

Town to town, train to train, tent to tent.

By 1932, the dust had begun to blow and the jobs were gone.

Anonymity was a byproduct of looking for work, which made it both necessary and convenient.

Stiles had enough secrets of his own to know to look the other way when he saw something that shouldn’t be possible.

The ghost of a tail giving enough balance to disembark a moving train.

Near silent Latin whispered on the edge of a tent encampment.

A flash of burning eyes.

He had more than enough to worry about without adding the oddities of others, and besides- having unusually sharp teeth certainly didn’t make a man worse than the ones running from the wife and kids they couldn’t feed.

So Stiles kept his observations to himself. He kept his everything to himself.

Until he met a man. One with eyes so blue they seemed to glow- and then they did.

Stiles tried to look away, but for the first time he was stopped.

“Don’t be like that sweetheart. Aren’t you curious?”

Rhythm of the War Drums by HyperLittleNori (Shiguresan)

The foreboding song of the drums rumbled through the stands above, made his heart, his blood pound with their increasing rhythm. He’d seen this so many times now, heard the sickening, morbid excitement of the rabble. He readied himself for the carnage, but even nearly a year after he’d first stood in this spot, it still filled him with dread.

As always, he watched the sandy arena through the barred steel gates. They vibrated with the movement, with the almost deafening sounds of the crowd and the drums. A sea of guards stood at his back, but they were not there for him…

Two Worlds Collided by Bittah_Wizard

It was always meant to be Stiles and Peter.

Always.

A Stranger Comes to Town by Bunnywest, DiscontentedWinter, Twisted_Mind

Peter claps his hands together once. “Right! Let’s start getting to know each other, shall we? We can all take turns introducing ourselves, and explaining who we are as writers. I’ll go first.” He stays standing, and spreads his arms wide for a moment. “As I hope you all know, I’m bestselling author Peter Hale. If there’s been a terrible mistake and you didn’t mean to be here, this is your chance to run.”

He gives another charming smile to the tittering biddies on his right. He sketches a dramatic little bow, and then goes on. “Twice a year, I come out here to teach The Masterclass on writing, providing new talent,” he winks at the MFA-wannabes on the left, tucking his hands in his pockets, “with a safe environment to share your work and equip yourselves with the tools for success. I’m looking forward to getting to know you all this weekend.”

Keep You Like An Oath by Green

After 7 years in prison, Peter has important matters to attend to — and at the top of his list is the young mate he left behind, unclaimed for their own protection. But, for all his good intentions, Stiles has always needed him — now more than ever.

Too Much Of A Good Thing by GracieBirdie

Stiles can’t just leave Boyd and Erica chained up in a hunter’s basement, and if the only person willing to listen to him when he asks for help is a formerly dead psychopath? Well, Stiles supposes he could do worse. But of course nothing in Stiles’ life is ever just that simple…

All The Things We’d Do by GracieBirdie

Stiles’ time travel spell doesn’t work out quite right but he figures he should make the best of it, starting with Laura Hale.

The Promises Of Yesterday, The Pledges Of Tomorrow by ShippersList

Stiles is a kid with serious concentration issues and definitely not a guide—let alone a guide strong enough to calm down a feral Sentinel wolf. It’s just not possible.

Thighs Verse by Bunnywest

I’ll give you what you need, pretty boy. And you can call me Sir.

The hairs on the back of Stiles’s neck prickle at that, and his dick throbs. He clicks on the profile and the picture that pops up is UN-FUCKING-FAIR. Jesus Christ on a bicycle, nobody should look like that. The man’s staring into the camera, a smile that’s almost a sneer on his face. And what a face it is. Intense blue eyes, cheekbones like cut glass, and a strong jawline covered in the perfect amount of stubble. His neck, what Stiles can see of it, is thickly muscled, and Stiles can see the beginnings of a tattoo that travels down. There’s the tiniest scattering of grey at his temples, and Stiles breathes out, “Oh yes, Sir,” as he drinks in the details on the profile.

Or, the one in which Stiles experiments with Grindr, and finds his Sir.

The Boy Sleuth by Shey

Stiles is eight when he discovers a box of his mom’s old Nancy Drew Mysteries in the back of the guest bedroom closet.

Magnificent Mischief by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

“Marvelous Miss and the Magnificent Mischief!” the carnival barker shouted just outside the corridor with all the food tents. “Come see Miss Paige do amazing tricks with her talking raven! He not only speaks, but he jokes! He teases! He philosophizes!”

Escaping by Green

“We have to go. Now, Peter.”

Peter’s holding his apartment door open, standing in shock, looking at Stiles. “What? How do you even know where I live?”

The Chasm and the Clash by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

Stiles has dreams of the Alpha after he dies. It makes no sense. He didn’t know Peter before… did he?

Did Peter know him?

And why does his head hurt so much?

#ask #anonymous #steter #teen wolf #fanfic rec #rec list

[vtscasefiles]

Case File 762-4

Trigger warnings: Isolation, suicidal thoughts, violence, blood, depression, animal bites, animal injury, cops, racism, homophobia, conversion therapy mention

A note before reading: I am unsure if I have tagged all potential triggers properly. 

Case Begun: 2/07/20**

Case Concluded: 2/12/20**

Case Locale: [REDACTED], Washington

Marked as Closed, Payment Declined

This is one of the rare occasions where I am perfectly happy not to receive payment for a job. The value of a life always beats cash, period. 

It started a bit...underwhelming, to be honest. There’s a secret message board for Eliminators. It’s not easily accessed, and there’s a rigorous vetting process to even be allowed to view the posts. I was well into my sixth year working before I received an email invite. Since then, it’s become a welcome resource.

The first post on my feed was addressed to me, personally. This wasn’t new, I’ve built up something of a name for myself. I get regular work, but I still can’t afford to get out of this shithole apartment. I mean the door doesn’t even fucking lock. And the fucking “landlord” is so strung out on cocaine that -- 

[Editor’s note: Personal information revealing where VT lives followed. I have removed it for her safety.]

Anyway, the post was simple enough: a werewolf gone berserk. It’s not an uncommon thing, a new werewolf can take to the wolf too much. The wolf takes over and, feeding off of the human’s anger or indignation, attacks. First, it’s everyone who hurt them. Second, they attack their family. After that...it’s a bloody free-for-all.

Let me preface by saying I hate these hunts. It’s no different than putting down a rabid dog, honestly...the human is too far gone and the wolf operates entirely off of the residual rage. Even so, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I don’t like killing anything living, even if it’s lost it’s mind. 

I read the post three times before I sighed and closed my laptop. “This is why I like dealing with the dead.” I said, frowning. I’d be needing silver. Which meant spending money. The reward was good, though...so it’d cover any expenses. I packed up my gear (a wolf’s bane lotion, a femur from a dead wolf and a silver knife) and headed for my first stop: Ramona’s.

Ramona Torrez has been my best friend since...ever. She was born in the states to Mexican parents who’d settled here in the nineties. They’ve both returned to Mexico since, but they come to visit fairly often. Mama Torrez was more a mother to me than my own was, and she’s one terrifying lady. A powerful witch in her own right, she’d made her then boyfriend her familiar through a series of spells and incantations that bordered on the black. His physiology changed, as a result. Despite being in his mid sixties, the man’s barely aged. He’s stronger, faster and has more stamina than any human I’ve ever met...not to mention he’s an absolute sweetheart.

Ramona is possibly the most gifted witch I’ve ever met. If there’s a spell she can’t do, I’ll eat my boots. Her shop is a little hidden place. Right on the corner of [REDACTED], she’s very open about what she does. A small sign dangles over the door reading “Bruja” . I pulled open the door, hearing the cheerful jingle of the bell (despite there not being one in sight. Or a motion tracker.) “Welcome!” she called from the back. “I’ll be with you in a moment!” I said nothing, opting only to pick up my friend’s familiar and give her a stroke.

It always makes me laugh, honestly. A witch with a black cat as a familiar. How cliché can you get? Issy’s a sweet thing, though. Purrs like an engine if you so much as scratch her ears. “VT!” Ramona appeared with a wide grin on her freckled face. “Why didn’t you say it was you, dummy?”

I’ll preface that, despite my father being Hispanic, I never had the opportunity to learn Spanish. He was always busy on one hunt or another. Ramona’s tried to teach me, so that I could get in touch with my roots...but languages never came natural to me. Hell, I barely speak English.

Ramona rattled off her usual rapid Spanish, taking Issy from my arms. “You know I can’t understand a word.” I said as she turned to lead me into the back room. Her shoulders shook and she looked over her shoulder with a coy grin.

“Oh, I know. Payaso.” 

If Ramona hadn’t been my best friend, I’d likely be trying to get under her dress. She’s a curvy thing, with a heart shaped face and big brown eyes that’d melt even the coldest of hearts. She dimples when she smiles (something I’m immediately weak to) and does this adorable thing with her nose when she’s irritated. Her hair tends toward bushiness, framing her face like moss on a tree. (To my knowledge she doesn’t dye it, it’s just...green.)

“So, darling.” she chirped, stopping next to her cauldron to let Issy dash off through the fabric drapery that led into her kitchen. “What is the illustrious VT hunting today?”

“Berserk werewolf. Probably recently turned...and probably not by a pack. I’m thinking boyfriend or girlfriend. Which means -- “ She cut me off with an uttered curse.

“Which means that you’ll have to get in touch with the local werewolf pack.” she finished with a grimace. “Where’s the contract taking you?”

“Washington state. Little town called [REDACTED].” I answered, not expecting any miracles. I was granted one, none the less.

“Ah. That’s a Native American pack. I met their um...I’m not sure what the proper vernacular is, so I’ll just call her a witch, if that’s okay?” she said, worrying with her lower lip. Ramona’s always been very big on calling people their proper titles, and felt terrible guilt when she messed it up.

“She the Alpha? Or an elder?” I asked, seizing upon the thread before Ramona fell into self-deprecation.

“Well...yes and no.” she said, pouring something into the burbling cauldron and turning it a sickly puce. “She’s something of a Seer. She led them to an old, abandoned ghost town. They asked for witches from all over the continent for assistance in warding and rebuilding. Naturally -- “ “Naturally, Bleeding Heart Torrez helped.” I cut her off, again. She frowned and nodded. “Hey, Ramona, I ain’t saying you did the wrong thing. I’d have done the same. Are they friendly to outsiders?”

“Kind of.” she said, her frown relenting for a thoughtful expression. “You’ll likely be met by an envoy before you make it to the town line. I can call ahead, if you’d like. Let them know that I trust you so they won’t be on full alert.” she smiled, slightly. “Just don’t...shoot anyone that you don’t have to. Okay?”

“I’m not in the business of killing people just trying to live their lives, Ramona.” I said, pulling a frown of my own. “I might be trigger happy, but I’ve never shot anyone who didn’t come after me, first.”

“I know, I know...they can just be a little wary with outsiders. You can hardly blame them.” she said, carefully. I agreed with her, but I didn’t like the implication that I just ran in like some idiot waving my gun around and shooting at everything that moved.

I only do that sometimes.

I stayed long enough to catch up and have some lunch. Ramona’s cooking was always amazing. Her carnitas is to die for, full stop. With my belly full and my paranoia subsiding, I made for Ellie’s. It was time to see if the corpse had any silver.

Elinor Lyktor is a lich. She “died” at some point during the eighteen hundreds. Stomach cancer. She was already a necromancer by then, so when she felt her end approaching...she made a bargain with Death. The way she speaks about the “Lady of the Void” is how some people speak about their chosen deity. But how many of them have actually spoken with their god? Or had her over for tea? 

Elinor’s shop was in the dead center of town. The signboard above her shop proudly proclaimed “Ellie’s Emporium”. Her front was an antique shop (all her possessions from when she was alive litter the front of the store). When I entered, her bespectacled gaze caught mine. Even indoors, if she was minding the shop, she wore sunglasses.

“Valerica.” she greeted, pushing from her stool and smiling, marginally. “Lock the door.” I obeyed. What else do you do in the face of a being that could force your skeleton to come clawing out of your body?

“Elinor.” I responded with a nod. “I’m looking for silver ordinance. .44 if you got it.”

“I do. Got a werewolf problem?” she pulled off her sunglasses. Her eyes were pitch black. The only light in them came from the faintly glowing, multicolored runes that slid across them like leaves on a still pond.

“Not a problem.” I responded, coolly. “Ramona’s got me an in. I just don’t have the identity, yet.” I paused, thinking that maybe I should be a little warmer to my primary ordinance merchant. “How’s the lady?”

“Which lady to you speak of?” she asked, grinning cattily. “The woman I will make my wife, or the Great Lady of Dusk?”

Fuck, she loved her puffery.

“Do you just make up these titles or did Death give you a list?” I asked, grinning. It got a laugh, so I’d say that Operation Butter Up the Lich was a success. 

“No, I only use them to annoy her. She’s teaching me a lot, VT. I’d love for you to come over and meet her someday. Isali is a rather sweet woman, if you can get past the fact she’s Death.” she said, earnestly. “Did you know she has a son? And he has children, too? I wasn’t even aware she could reproduce.”

That was enough to get my attention. “Death...has a kid. Okay, I’ll bite: what’s his name?”

“I don’t know. She only refers to him as “my darling boy”. The only thing I’ve figured out is there has to have been a point in history in which no one died. The only way I think she could have had a child is if she took on mortal guise and -- are you even listening?”

I was. Oh, I was. I admit that I was wrapped up in the thought of how DEATH had a SON. He must be one terrifying, austere motherfucker, that’s for damn sure. “Sorry, I was just thinking about what kind of man her son has to be. Gotta be some kind of...demigod or something. Having a mother like Death.”

Elinor shrugged “She described him as being an absolute goof. Dotes on his kids, overtly friendly. I’d like to meet him, someday. It looks like I’ll go wanting, though. He lives in a world beyond ours. An extra dimensional being.”

Now it made sense. I wanted to follow that rabbit hole down to the end. I still want to. But business beckoned and I had no choice but to end this intriguing line of thought. “As interesting as this all is, I still need bullets for something more mundane. Can you cut me a deal?”

“Depends on the volume, Valerica. If you want an armory’s worth, I can’t help you...but if you’re just looking for a few boxes, well...” she smiled. “How does fifteen bucks a box suit you?”

“It doesn’t.” I responded immediately. “I’ll give you five.”

I left her store after securing my ammunition. She drove a hard bargain, but I managed to talk her down to ten dollars a box. I had five boxes, each containing twelve bullets. If I couldn’t finish the job with that, then I was in the wrong line of work. 

Now, it’s a little known fact that a werewolf and a rugaru are two separate entities. They both conjure the vision of this half-wolf, half-man meat tank that tears through the opposition like so much wet paper. That particular creature is a rugaru. Not all werewolves are rugaru, but all rugaru are werewolves. The rugaru transformation is only possible under two circumstances: complete acceptance of the wolf that dwells within, or the complete degeneration of the werewolf’s human mind due to unchecked homicidal urges. It isn’t a fine line or any of that bullshit that other people have perpetuated. It’s a simple matter of willpower. If I was dealing with a rugaru, it’d mean real trouble. I could only hope this werewolf was still on four legs.

As Ramona had promised me, I was barely five miles down the dirt road that led into our little werewolf commune before I was stopped. He was a tall, impressive specimen. Fine bone structure, inky black hair brushed neatly into two, thick braids that were decorated with beads and feathers...what really threw me was his smile. It was welcoming. Not a normal sight for me. I killed the engine and stepped out into the morning air, then man walked forward and extended a hand “You must be VT. It’s a pleasure, truly.”

I took his hand and shook it. I felt the tell tale calluses on his palm in the shape of paw pads and smiled, this was the right place. “Glad to be of help. I hear there’s a berserk wolf on the loose.” his smile faded.

“Yes.” he replied, simply. “My son’s boyfriend.”

Swish. Called it.

“That’s unfortunate.” I said, bowing my head in respect. “Is there no hope of helping him cope?”

“I’m unsure.” he responded, looking thoughtfully at the thick forest that shadowed the road. “We’ve tried, but...he’s so angry.” he paused, his gaze returning to me. “I apologize, VT. I haven’t even given you my name: folks around here call me Thunder. You’re welcome to do the same.”

I nodded and smiled “Anything you say, Thunder. If you have another name that you’d prefer to go by, I’ll do my best not to butcher it.” he’d laughed, a booming sound like his namesake.

“Thunder suits me just fine.” he said, kindly. “We can continue our discussion back at the compound. Would you mind if I rode with you? I can tell you about our lifestyle while we ride.”

I gathered that Thunder was the Alpha of this particular pack, given how he spoke about his friends and family. The pack had started on a reservation, but wanted a place of their own. The reservation was abandoned in favor of the Seer’s word there was a place of their own. They all turned in the dead of night and disappeared. No one knew where they’d gotten to, save for the SC. They were completely self sufficient. Hunting and fishing for food, growing their crops in soil blessed by their spirits and making their own clothing. Back to basics, he’d said. I could see the appeal.

“You got a free house I can post up in or...” he’d laughed at me.

“We don’t have internet, power or running water. You might get sick of it pretty fast, hm?” he’d nudged me and broke into that same booming laughter that caused my eardrums to ache.

He’d stopped me just outside of town, where two, tall totems stood on either side of the road. “Stop here. Your car will die if you cross.” he said, stepping out of the car. “I’ll introduce you to my son, VT.”

I killed the engine and stepped out, reaching behind the seat to sling my backpack over my shoulder. One of the two totems stood out. Each of them was carved with delicate care and beautiful in their own right, but the one on the left was the most interesting to me. It was Ramona’s work, I knew the feel of that anywhere. “Torrez did this, didn’t she?” I asked, brushing my fingers against the carvings. “Not the design, but the ward.”

“You’re close to Miss Torrez?” Thunder asked, pausing to look at the totem. “Yes. Spent a week solid working on it. She even refused payment, only asked for one of my wife’s blankets in return.”

“Do you...deal with cash?” I asked, feeling the slightest bit insensitive.

“Rarely.” he responded, eyes still on the totem. “Some of us have work in a town nearby, certainly...there are a few things that trading can’t get us. Gasoline. Generators.”

That threw me and I frowned “Thought you said you didn’t have power.”

“We don’t.” he responded, simply. “The generators are for the Elders who didn’t leave the reservation.”

Well, good to know I’d been here all of twenty seconds and already taken a big bite of foot pie. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think -- “ “You don’t live like us. Why would you?” he responded with a somewhat bitter smile. “No reason for me to take offense or for you to feel guilt, VT. Though your apology is...appreciated.” the last word felt forced, but I said no more.

The town was pretty enough, each house painted in accordance to the occupant’s taste. Designs swirled and jerked in eye catching beauty across the wood or brick. Thunder led me to a single-story ranch type home and beckoned me inside. He called for his son in his native tongue and a beanpole of a boy appeared. I say boy, but he was at least eighteen or nineteen. “Introduce yourself.” Thunder said, sternly. “You’re the cause of this mess.”

“Thunder.” I broke in, sensing the tension between father and son. “You know better than anyone that the change is unpredictable...it isn’t his fault.”

Thunder’s stare turned on me, and that friendly gaze was gone. If I’d been made of gentler stuff, I might’ve even backed away. “I’m not upset he changed his lover, VT. I’m upset because his lover is giving us a bad name, and he doesn’t seem to care.”

“Excuse me for caring about my boyfriend, Father.” the boy spat. Even in children, or teenagers...there’s always respect for the Alpha Wolf. To hear the vitriol in the young man’s voice told me one thing: there was going to be a power struggle here one day. “VT, I heard about you from Ramona Torrez.” he said, with much less anger in his voice. “Please...Dorian never meant to hurt anyone. He didn’t even know what I was doing and...please, don’t kill him!” tears were welling in this young man’s eyes. I couldn’t help but be sympathetic...but I still had a job to do.

“Dorian’s his name?” I asked, humming beneath my breath. “I might be able to call him out using that information. But I’ll need your name too, kid.”

Thunder’s son puffed up “I am no child! I am a man grown!” he said, indignantly. 

“A grown man doesn’t make decisions for his loved ones.” I shot back. “He makes decisions with his loved ones.”

He deflated marginally. “My name is...Crow Flies. He called me Crow...” he said, no longer able to meet my eyeline. “Please, VT...I...”

“I get it, kid.” I said, softly. “I won’t kill him if I don’t have to. I promise.”

Thunder took me from his home and introduced me to the rest of the pack. They were a kindly people, if a little wary of an outsider like myself. Thunder’s presence helped with their misgivings, but only slightly. “You did well with Crow Flies.” he said, softly. “Miss Torrez had described you as a hot head, but even so...you were very patient. And there was wisdom in your speech.”

Despite myself, I flushed. “Well, ah...I’ve had good teachers.” I said, trying not to grin. “Say, Thunder. After all this unpleasantness is done, could I come back? Just to visit. I like it here.”

That seemed to surprise the Alpha, he looked at me and then smiled “I think that I would like that. I think the pack would, too. Once they see that you are here to help, of course.”

I had dinner with the pack, as they all dined together in the center of town (or the old town hall, when the weather was foul). It was a raucous affair, full of song and laughter...Crow sat off by himself. Alone. I thought it best to leave him be. The boy was going through all kinds of heartbreak. The last thing he needed was another lecture.

It was late by the time dinner wrapped up, and I’d gathered a bit more information about Dorian. He’d been cast out by his family due to his sexuality, and taken in by the pack. They’d kept their lycanthropy secret from him...that is until Crow Flies turned him. Thunder had even had a family portrait taken of the three of them. Dorian had to have been at least Crow Flies’ age, if not a bit older. He was dark skinned, his hair styled into a small afro. What struck me the most was his smile...there was such...kindness. Love. It twisted my stomach into tight knots.

I made a promise to myself then and there: there were enough gay, Black men dead. I was not going to contribute to that number.

Even if it killed me.

No one “hunts” a werewolf. You see these self-styled vampire/werewolf hunters enough these days...and they’re all absolute pricks. Worse than that, they’re murderers. I’ve had to kill a couple of them, to save an innocent life...but when you murder someone just for their differences, you’re the monster. The point is, no matter how many berserk werewolves you’ve encountered it all boils down the the same fact: they’re the hunter, you’re the prey.

I applied a thick layer of the wolfsbane lotion to my skin. It wasn’t going to stop a werewolf as much as it would overwhelm their sense of smell and taste. Silver weaponry only works because of a simple fact.

Have you ever heard of a tulpa? It’s...a sort of group hallucination made real. The basic principle is if you believe enough in something, it manifests as reality. The more people who believe, the more stable a tulpa is. Silver is a sort of pseudo-tulpa. A mass belief of silver being a weapon against lycanthropy has made it reality. That’s the power of belief.

Problem being is I didn’t know whether the mass belief here was that silver kills...or simply incapacitates or weakens. I had to be careful. I had to leave Peace behind. If I wanted to save Dorian, I couldn’t rely on firepower to do it.

[Editor’s Note: A rarity for VT. Coherent thought.]

Dorian’s hunting ground had been, as of late, his own home town. His first victims were his parents...hardly a surprise. Poor guy had to have felt betrayed, and was angry for it. Researching the case, they hadn’t been eaten. They’d only had their throats ripped out. That was a good thing and a bad thing. If Dorian wasn’t eating his victims yet, that meant there was humanity left in him...but he’d tasted blood, and he’d want more. I didn’t have time to dally, I had to act.

I drove straight to his former home.

The house had been cordoned off by police tape. As anyone sane does, I ignored the warnings put forth by the police and ventured inside. The carpets were stained with blood...it meant there was a struggle. A vicious one from the looks of things. Dorian might not have even been in wolf form when it started.

I ventured deeper into the house, searching for any kind of clue. There was Christian iconography all over the house, which explained why he was thrown out. It was getting harder and harder to feel anything but repulsion for the dead, sanctimonious pricks. Throwing their own son out just because he’s gay...I related entirely too much.

I found Dorian’s bedroom without much struggle. Posters of his favorite sports teams hung on the walls, along with musicians and actors. I felt a creak in the floorboard beneath my foot, so I crouched and tried to pull on it. It came up effortlessly.

Hidden within was a notebook, a small bag of cosmetics and a pressed flower. Probably from Crow, I thought. I didn’t read a lot of the journal, but from what I did read it was a chronicle of his self discovery. I admired him for the bravery he showed in facing who he truly was, but the thoughts were private. I closed the journal and replaced it, along with the other items. Those were his and not mine to take. If...things went badly, I’d come back and give them to Crow.

I approached the bed, and got a deep whiff of wet dog for my trouble. He’d been here. Recently. I pulled the sheets back and found what I’d expected: fur. He’d even been sleeping in his own bed. This was good. This was very, very good. If he still sought out human comfort, he was still in there.

A sudden creak and the sound of footsteps sent my heart into my throat. I had no weapon, no way of defending myself against a hungry werewolf. The air was probably thick with the scent of wolfsbane by now...I did the only thing I thought I could.

I stood and waited.

It wasn’t Dorian. It wasn’t even a werewolf. I felt my stomach drop into my shoes as a uniformed police officer appeared, flashlight in hand. “Who the fuck are you? This is a police investigation zone, bitch.”

My hackles raised, but I raised my hands, showing I was unarmed. “I’m a Private Investigator. My license is in my jacket pocket. I’m going to reach for it now.” I tried to keep my voice calm, but clearly this pig thought I was being belligerent. 

“Keep your fucking hands where I can see them!” he snarled and approached, stepping forward to shove his hand into my jacket. Thankfully, he went straight for the pocket instead of feeling me up, like I’d been dreading. He looked at the fake license with his mean, piggy little eyes. “They hand these out to anyone, huh?” he said, pure malicious glee in his voice.

I said nothing, keeping my hands raised and waiting for an actual question. “So, you think you can do this job better than us?”

“No, sir.” I responded, shaking my head. “I’m only looking for their son. He has a right to know, even if he hasn’t been living here. I was hoping to find a clue and didn’t want to trouble the police department for something that’d only take a few minutes.”

He laughed, cruelly “Well, that’s earned you an arrest, Valerica Torianna.” he said, gleefully. “For interfering with a police investigation. You have the right to remain -- “

The next thing I heard from the officer was a scream. I hadn’t even heard the wolf enter. The wolf, lean and black as pitch, leapt atop the cop and dug his fangs in. Blood sprayed my face as the pig’s throat was torn from his neck. The wolf didn’t chew. Didn’t swallow. Just spat the flesh and sinew clean out. Then it turned it’s eyes on me.

“Dorian?” I asked, softly. It’s hackles raised. “Dorian, I’m a friend of Crow Flies. You know who Crow Flies is, don’t you?” it backed away, and I took a step towards it. “Dorian, I don’t want to hurt you. I’m not here to hurt you. I only want to help...Crow asked me to help you. Please.”

It snarled...and it lunged.

For anyone wondering if I’ve turned lycan: no. It’s not as...simple as just a bite. I don’t quite understand it, but it has to be an actual, conscious thought. Dorian would have had wanted to make me a werewolf. It didn’t seem he was quite accustom to the change to be able to make conscious decisions. He was only defending himself from a perceived threat.

That didn’t stop his fangs from tearing my forearm open, though.

“Fuck!”, I yelled as it’s teeth dug in deep and ripped my flesh. I had my fair number of scars, but this one would be a doozy. That’s alright. Girls dig scars...well, my type does. Not trying to generalize or anything. Anyways, I was bleeding. A lot.

“Dorian, let go!” I yelled, feeling my bones practically screaming in his jaws. “You’re gonna break my fuckin’ arm!” I balled my fist and started to hammer on his nose with all my might. Nothing. “Dorian, brother, I’m real fuckin’ sorry about this!” I grabbed onto his throat with three fingers and squeezed. He started to choke.

I released him the second his jaws released me. “Sorry.” I croaked, holding my arm against my chest as the wolf wheezed. “Will you -- “ he was gone. I’d blinked and looked at my arm for a half second and he’d up and bolted...leaving me with a dead cop, and his blood all over my face. It wouldn’t matter that he had lupine saliva in his wound, it’d mattered that his corpse would be discovered next to me. So, I bolted.

I returned to the pack’s commune and staggered past the totems. Blood loss was already making my head spin, and I needed medical assistance. Problem was I still had cop blood all over me...so a hospital was out.

I passed out before I could even get to Thunder’s door.

When I woke up it was still night...or night, again. Ramona’s heart-shaped face, her hair sticking up all over the place was looking down at me. “Ah. An angel.” I wheezed. “So, I’m dead.”

Ramona flushed and slapped my chest “Idiota!” she squeaked. I laughed weakly. “You scared me! Thunder called and said Crow Flies found you half-dead! Your veins were torn to shit, VT! You could have died!”

“So just another day at the office then?” I sat up and my head immediately began to swim. “Shit.”

“Lie down, VT. I did what I could, but you still lost a lot of blood. I’ve dealt with your clothes, and Issy brought back your fake PI license. Sloppy, Valerica. Very sloppy. You would’ve been caught if not for us.” she said, standing from my bedside and straightening her dress. “You owe me.”

“Add it to the tab.” I said, pushing to my feet, doing my best to ignore just how sick I felt. “Dorian’s still out there. I can’t let him succumb, I can’t. The world has enough murdered Black men...let alone gay Black men.” my conviction was strong, but my body...

I was wrecked. I could barely stand, let alone run or fight.

“The pack is dealing with him, now. He’s...becoming unstable. I’m sorry, VT, but there’s nothing left for you to do.” Ramona said, hanging her head. “He’ll be killed before sunup.”

Like. Hell. I knew where he was nesting, now. I knew what I had to do. I had to go back. I had to beat them to Dorian’s old home. “Ramona. Think you can drive really, really fast?”

“VT...”

“I’m not taking an L on this one, Ramona. I won’t. I know how Dorian feels, I’ve lived his life. I won’t let it end like this.” Ramona looked at me, tears in her eyes. “What? What is it?”

She smiled and wiped her eyes on her forearm “Who’s the bleeding heart, now?”

Ramona broke just about every traffic law in existence getting me back to Dorian’s home. I’d been unconscious for two days. During that time the pack had met and decided that the only way they could stop Dorian was to kill him. He’d gotten more violent, more reckless. His kills were happening in broad daylight, now. Three cops, a high school teacher and a pastor. None were eaten, but all were killed, viciously.

“He’s attacking those that wronged him.” Ramona said, softly. “He has the power to fight back...he’s losing himself in it. I’m afraid the pack might be right...if he keeps going like this...”

“He won’t.” I snapped shut the cylinder on my weapon. “Crow will never be able to look his father in the eye, let alone forgive him, if the pack kills Dorian. If there’s going to blood spilt...I’d rather be the one hated.” I said, softly. “But I’m going to try, one last time, to get through to him.”

I didn’t go beneath the cordon tape, this time. I went through it. Thunder didn’t know where Dorian lived, thankfully, only the town he lived in. Ramona had agreed to go and ask them to give me my last chance. I had to make it count.

“Dorian!” I bellowed, the instant I rammed through the tape “Dorian! My name is Valerica Torianna! I’m like you! My mother cast me out on my own when I came out to her!” I shouted as I sprinted towards his bedroom. “I know you’re angry! You deserve to be! You deserve your revenge, but you’re going to be killed if you don’t -- “

There he was. Eight feet tall, jaws dripping with blood. He’d lost the plot. He’d lost his humanity. He was a berserk rugaru, now.

“Shit.” I cursed as lupine eyes met mine “Dorian? Dorian, please...I can’t fight you. I won’t fight you. Please.” 

I was thrown, bodily, through the drywall. Luckily, I didn’t hit a stud or wiring...but I could feel shards of something embedded in my back. Peace was still in her holster, so I pulled her free as I struggled to my knees. The rugaru kool-aid’d through the wall after me, eyes full of bloodlust and rage. I aimed my weapon and pulled the hammer back.

A second rugaru exploded through a window and slammed Dorian bodily to the floor. The pair rolled, biting and snarling and clawing across the floor. More than once I had to scurry out of the way of the battle to avoid catching a flying claw or misplaced bite.

Who the fuck was the second rugaru!? Was he a friendly? Was *he* enraged? Fuck me sideways, I had no idea what was going on anymore! All I knew is I was suffering from blood loss and losing energy by the second.

CRRRRRRRACK.

I turned, just in time to see the second rugaru, deep brown fur covered in blood and wounds, ripping Dorian’s jaws apart and ripping his heart from his chest. “NO!” I screamed, feeling tears streaking my face. “Goddammit, no! Fuck!”

When a werewolf dies in lupine form, it’s body shrinks. The wolf leaves its body, free to roam the great hereafter, while the human husk remains. All that was left of Dorian was a pale skinned...wait. Dorian was(?) Black...this mutilated corpse was white.

What the fuck.

The second rugaru threw it’s head back and howled in victory...and turned on me. “Who the fuck are you?” I said, voice trembling. “And who the fuck did you just kill?”

The rugaru was shrinking, but collapsed before the change was through. I tore my jacket off and draped it over him. When you lose mass that rapidly, you lose body heat, too. If a werewolf doesn’t have something to warm them after a rugaru transformation, they could easily suffer from hypothermia. I rubbed the dark skin that was rapidly loosing fur. “Dorian? Dorian, is that you?”

“Yeah.” came the soft rasp. “Yeah...my name’s Dorian. Who the fuck are you?”

“My name’s VT. I was hired to -- “

“Kill me?” he cut me off and glowered at me with hate filled eyes. “Just like my parents wanted?”

“No! Fuck, no! I was thrown out by my mother after coming out. Like hell I’d kill someone suffering from my same pain.” I said, quickly. “I was hired to try to help you. By Crow Flies’ dad.”

Dorian stared at me, untrusting...but soon looked back to the corpse. There was such hatred in his eyes...it made the glare he aimed at me look positively tame in comparison. “That thing was a pastor. A pastor at one of those...those...” he wretched.

“Conversion therapy...” I hissed beneath my breath. Suddenly, I was hoping the corpse would get up, again. Just so I could have the pleasure of killing him, myself. “You gave him what he deserved.”

I successfully returned Dorian to the pack. He wasn’t ostracized, but welcomed. He had gone berserk, just as the job posting had claimed. He’d killed his parents and their pastor, but no one else. After he’d had his vengeance, he regained himself. He hid, feeling such guilt in his heart that he never wanted to see anyone again. 

Poor kid.

His reunion with Crow was a sweet one, they’d wept and kissed and held each other so tightly I was sure I could hear joints cracking. I couldn’t help but feel accomplished for what I’d done. The rugaru he’d killed, one Peter Edwards, had been a werewolf for years. Hiding in plain sight...and killing those that couldn’t be “saved”. He couldn’t nail down Dorian, so he tried to frame him. He’d be martyred...if not for one, little thing.

“Oh, I burned his corpse with the rest of the house.” Ramona said, forcing a cup of coffee into my hands. “What went on there was no one’s business, anyway. No one’s but the pack’s. And yours, I guess.” she’d said, cheerfully. “Thanks.” I sipped the coffee. Possibly the best tasting coffee I’d ever had. “Dorian saved my life. I don’t think I can accept payment for this one.” I said, smiling. “I’m happy it turned out the way it did...still...it’s impressive that a new werewolf found the rugaru so easy to control.”

Dorian broke away from Crow and approached me. “Miss VT?” he said, timidly. “I just...I wanted to say thank you. Crow said that...that you wouldn’t kill me. That you were against it from the outset.” he stuck out his hand “I...thank you.”

I took his hand, feeling those same calluses I’d felt on Thunder’s. “I should be thanking you, Dorian. You saved my ass.” I grinned and squeezed his hand. “You have a family now, brother. You’ll never have to feel alone again.” he smiled that same smile, so full of kindness and love, that was in the portrait. “Take care of yourself, Dorian.”

Thunder caught me as I was climbing into my car. “You forgot your payment, VT.” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “Ramona said you wouldn’t accept, but...” “But nothing. All I did was run around in circles. Dorian’s the hero here, Thunder.” I said, pushing my sunglasses onto my face. “But hey...if you really wanna give me something...this job ruined my jacket.”

I received a gorgeous, handmade jacket in the mail a few weeks after. My initials emblazoned on the back in golden thread. I wouldn’t be wearing this thing on jobs, but...maybe I can get it framed.

Yeah. That’d be pretty killer.

Case closed.

#tw: isolation #tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: violence #tw: blood #tw: depression #tw: animal bite #tw: animal bites #tw: animal injury #tw: cops #tw: racism #tw: homophobia #tw: conversion therapy mention #VTverse #OC #writing #horror

[artxyra]

In Her Darkest Moments

Note: So this story came from me listening to the song “The Bully” by Sody. If the last part seems kind of lost it because I started this on a whim and took a break to work on other projects (both school-related and personal). There might be more added to this later but I’m not sure yet. Anyways, enjoy.  

Part 1 | 2 | 3

Trigger warning: thoughts of suicide

Anger can manifest in multiple ways, but it’s what you do with that anger that can change the outcome of a single event.

~*~

Marinette may have grown used to the Lila and her classmates’ bullying towards her, but that didn’t mean she was slowly shattering. Every day was a war zone for her. Looking behind her back every second of the day, hoping that she wouldn’t stand out. But this has been going on for two years nearly three now. She can’t take it anymore.

Suicide was the easy way out, and she knows this. It was confronting her bullies and saying goodbye that was the hardest.

Gripping onto her sleeves, she covers the marks of cutting, forcing herself to acknowledge she was okay when she clearly wasn’t. No one knew she was doing this to herself, and she wants to keep it that way. No longer did she wore pink capris with a white blouse and blazer, but now a grey knitted sweater with a pair of skinny jeans and low-heeled wedges. It was a nice change, but she didn’t feel like herself in her own skin.

Walking into her high school, Dupont’s sister school, she ignores the glances coming her way. Making her way to her locker, she quickly grabs the items needed for class and scurries down the halls. Because of the lack of akuma attacks, she’s often on-time to class and gets a decent night of rest when nightmares aren’t plaguing her mind.

Her books fell from her arms. She staggers in her steps.

“Oh my god, Marinette! Why did you purposely drop your books on me?” She dreads the familiar Italian accent female. Lila could only internally smirk at her work because it wasn’t long before Alya made her voice known.

“What the hell, Marinette, that’s the fifth time this week. What is wrong with you?”

A hard jab came to her shoulders. Marinette counts to ten. Her breathing evens just enough for her to gain her bearings. She grabs her books and pushes through the growing crowd of Lila supporters. No one is never on her side anymore.

Taking her seat, she barely acknowledges the disappointed look she was receiving from Adrien. Adrien, oh sweet Adrien, the blonde model manages to convince his father to let him continue with public school under the intention of doing more photo-shoots. They barely have spoken since collége and he unknowingly played into Lila’s greedy hands.

“Good Morning class,” The teacher greets as she walks in. Marinette doesn’t acknowledge today’s lesson as her mind started to doodle in her worn-out notebook.

Lila made sure that everything good in Marinette’s life was a diminished flame. Turning the former bluenette’s parents against her was the tipping point of it all.  She would copy Marinette’s work, turn it in before the latter could get up from her seat. That would then turn into a long meeting with the school’s dean about plagiarism and dishonesty. It was a miracle that Marinette was still able to attend the school with the constant amount of this occurring.

Marinette’s safe place slowly became this Ladybug and Chat Noir theme café. She goes by there every day after school instead of heading home. It’s a great place for her to work on her projects without the fear of being judged, bullied and copied from. The owner, an older woman, grew to love the teen’s company and told her that she was welcome at any time of the day. She’ll forever remember the day that Marinette gave her the most heartfelt real smile instead of the dull, barely reaching her eyes smile. Those were the days that the two of them will cherish forever.

She sighs, pushing the unfinished work of a new design away from her. The owner notices this and looks around. There was no need to take orders; she quickly makes her over to the struggling teen.

“Is everything alright dear?” She asks, placing a comforting hand on Marinette’s shoulder.

A gentle gesture was all it took for her to breakdown. Tears stream down her face, red watery eyes glance up to the older woman breaking the owner’s heart. She hates seeing Marinette like this. Pulling the young woman into a comforting hug, Marinette cries into her chest.

“Shh, everything will be alright one day.” The owner repeats into the teen’s ear, rubbing on her back.

When Marinette couldn’t cry her eyes out anymore, she lifts herself up from the older woman’s lap to look around. The sky has darkened and there was no one in the café beside the two of them.

“I’m so sorry.” She immediately apologizes.

“Nonsense, Marinette. You clearly needed to let it all out.”

Marinette couldn’t help but look down in shame. She doesn’t deserve any of this comfort. To her, a mental breakdown went weakness and weakness is something that has been affecting her in all aspects of her life.

“I should get home.” Marinette murmurs holding herself.

As much as the owner didn’t want the teen to leave, she knew she couldn’t stop Marinette from leaving. Sighing, she hands Marinette her bags and wishes her goodbye.

Dread fills Marinette as she returns home, but something stops her from entering. Perhaps it was because of her parents and their lack of trust for her. Maybe it was the cool protective breeze of the night’s air. Biting her bottom lip, she pushes against the door and quickly makes a be-line to her bedroom.

Her room lacks its usual luster. Over the years, she slowly became dissociated from her room leaving it frozen in her middle school personality with only pops of colors representing her now.

Not wanting to go to sleep, she finds herself on the balcony watching the stars.

“You could have asked me if you wanted to stargaze tonight.”  Her frown deepens hearing one of many voices she doesn’t want to hear.

“Go away, Chat.” She demands; caring less that it will hurt his feelings, but she knows him well enough that the word “no” isn’t in his vocabulary.

“Meow-ch, Princess—” He begins but Marinette turns to him with a glare on her face.

“Don’t call me, princess. I hate it.” She states getting up from her position. Chat Noir touches her shoulder only for her to push him away.

“No, you don’t.” He tries to counter, giving her his cat-like smirk, “Your heart wouldn’t have fluttered if you didn’t.”

Marinette scrunches her face. A single tear slides down her cheek. Chat, being the heroic knight he is, pulls her in for a hug, she tries to break free but due to her fatigue, she couldn’t. Instead, she wiggles in his arms.

“Let go of me.” She demands.

“You’re kidding me?” Chat slightly pushes her away, only to take in Marinette. Her body’s shaking, her arms hugs her torso, and tears ran down her face.

“Goodbye, Chat Noir.” Marinette rush towards the trapdoor and enters it.

She wants it all to end. To be fear from the nightmare that is her life. Collapsing onto the floor, the waterworks began. Tikki finally making her presences known and cuddles next her chosen knowing it was only time before Marinette gives up.

Marinette barely found the energy to wake up the next morning.

“Marinette, breakfast is ready!” She heard her mother’s voice carry out from the lower floor.

Trudging down from her bedroom and into the kitchen, Marinette sits down and stares silently at the plate of food in front of her. This felt odd. It’s been months since her mother made breakfast for the family. Her excuse has been that the store needs more attention and earlier opening time. When was the last she saw her mother’s bright smile and not the disappointed look? Marinette couldn’t remember for the life of her.

“Um…merci, maman.” Marinette murmurs taking a small bite.

Sabine either ignored the appreciation or she didn’t hear it, causing Marinette to feel even more out of place. It was after her tenth bite, that Marinette gave up on breakfast and walk out of the room. Looking at her phone, she realizes that class was going to start soon. Opting to ditch today, Marinette changes into a simple tee and a pair of denim shorts. Maybe today will be a better a day than the rest.

~*~

Marinette was enjoying her day away from school, but that all ends when a notification came through on her phone. It was the contents in that notification that made her want to hide, to throw up, and never show her face again. How could someone be so cruel to photoshop a photo of her doing explicit poses and send it to everyone in her class? How did they even get her new phone number?

The comments surrounding the post was a mixture of good and bad. Some, those who know her, wrote that it was clearly photoshopped, critiquing the image while others were expressing their shock and disappointment in Marinette for taking such photos.  

Everything’s ruined. Her reputation (that was already on the rocks), her dreams, her life.

Locking herself in the nearest bathroom, that she could find, she collapses to the floor. Breathing became a challenge, her mind making thousands of scenarios, causing her to spin around confused and dazed. Reality began to shift into nothing. Grasping for air, she uses the sink to balance her, but no strength came to her aid.

“Marinette!” Tikki worries for chosen. She felt useless. Useless that to help her chosen, she must reveal the three-year secret that they’ve kept hidden. “I will get help. Please stay strong.” Tikki cries out, flying out the bathroom in search for help.

Marinette didn’t know how long she stayed in a fetal position on the floor. Minutes, maybe even hours there. Because the next thing she knew was the loud banging on the bathroom door. Someone’s calling out her name from the other side. The loud sound made her want to curl, even more, anything to get away from the torture that’s she experiencing.

“Marinette,” The voice calls out more clearly.

Arms surround her fragile body. They pull her in closer to their chest. She clings to the person’s shirt as it was the only tangible object that was grounding her to reality.

“I got you. You’re safe, Nette. Come back to me.” The voice whispers into her ear.

Her breathing evens.

The voice continues to repeat the same phrase as it was bringing her back to reality and calming her down. Her grip lessens on their shirt.

“That’s it, Nette. Come back to me.” He murmurs.

“Is she alright?” Another voice asks. It was feminine, something that allowed Marinette to feel safe and loved. Another pair of hands wrap around her body.

Darkness begins to fade away allowing the bright colors of images to flood her senses. Blinking, Marinette looks around and sees Kagami and Luka holding onto her. Her eyes make their way to the door where Felix stood with concern in eyes stoic eyes.

“W-w-what happened? H-h-how did I get here?” She stutters clenching onto Luka’s shirt even more.

“You’re okay, now, Nette. If it wasn’t for Tikki, we probably wouldn’t have known to be here.” Kagami says rubbing the small teen’s blue hair. Marinette welcomes it and cuddles closer to the woman.

“It was Rossi that caused this mess. I’m sure we can charge Rossi with slander and defamation.” Felix voices his opinion.

“Let’s ignore, Rossi, for a moment and focus on Nette. From what Tikki told me, this kind of behavior is becoming a regular occurrence. Which would explain why she doesn’t come to school from what Agreste been explaining.” Kagami declares with a heavy sigh.

“Should we call Bourgeois and ask for her input?” Felix suggests as his body dance subconsciously with the idea of going into the bathroom.

“No, not yet. Right now, we need to focus on bettering Nette.” Luka speaks with authority.

Felix and Kagami agrees and turns back to their now sleeping friend.

~*~

A week has passed since Marinette’s breakdown. Kagami refuses to let the bluenette be alone, so she offered her place. Marinette at first refused, but after a long talk with Felix, Kagami, Luka, and their kwamis, it was decided that she would stay.

As the days went by, the three friends to could a change in their beloved bluenette. She’s eating more and getting a good amount of sleep. Granted, there were akuma attacks during some of those days and if it wasn’t an akuma, it was Lila’s lying her way out of any situation.

Heal is always the hard part; as much as Marinette wanted to move on from this, she knows that it will only stop when Lila’s luck runs out.

Sitting down at the Ladybug and Chat Noir theme café, Marinette silently sips her coffee. The owner makes her way over to the teen and offers her another round. Marinette declines and apologizes for all the pain and concern she caused the older woman. To which the owner denies and told her that she reminds her of her own granddaughter that was bullied when her daughter and husband were living in Italy.

“I’m so sorry, what happened to your granddaughter?” Marinette asks, secreting cringing at such a question.

The owner answers with a sad sigh, “She nearly killed herself, if it wasn’t for the pets, she wouldn’t be here. Today, she’s following her dream by attending a private school across sees. You two would have gotten along very well if she was here.”

Marinette smiles, “I’m glad that she’s alright.” She replies, but the lingering thought of death managed to sneak up into her mind.  Perhaps, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my friends. Shaking her head, she focuses on her coffee.

“If you need to talk, I’m always here.” The owner quickly gestures to the café before returning to the counter to take the orders of new customers.

Marinette finishes her coffee and exits the café.

“So, this is where you sneak off to.” Felix notes with Luka and Kagami behind him.

“What are you guys doing here?” Marinette asks, hugging the blonde before the two dark hairs.

“Well classes got out early and we wanted to spend the rest of the day with you,” Kagami answers pushing a strand of hair behind Marinette’s ear.

Marinette rolls her eyes, “Well the day is still bright and I’m feeling rather famished.”

The small group of friends laughs at the grumbling sound of Marinette’s stomach.

All it takes is for one grand action to make someone feel loved in their darkest moments.  

Part 2

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous au #miraculous fanfic #miraculous ladybug fanfic #ml fanfic #marinette dupain cheng #kagami tsurugi #luka couffaine #ml felix #marinette deserves better #edits will come later #can you guess the ship?

[falseroar]

Is This Your Card? Part 20: Silver Prison

((Trapped and alone, the District Attorney receives an unexpected visitor, and Abe realizes his story isn’t over yet.

Here’s a link to the part posted earlier today, Part 19: The Actor’s Game in case you missed it, and to the masterlist for the entire series.))

The pain never stopped inside of the mirror. It pressed down on every side, within and without, making every movement no matter how small hurt, making every breath feel like your lungs were on fire, every thought slow and sluggish as your brain wanted to just shut down from it all but couldn’t.

But more than that, it felt like your heart was being ripped out, again and again, every time you remembered why you were here.

They left you here, he left you here.

You trusted him, he promised…

The room on the other side of the glass blurred, not for the first time.

How long had you been in here? It was hard to tell whether the shadow that occasionally fell across the windows was truly night or yet another storm passing by, especially when you sometimes blinked and found the darkened room was suddenly bright again without any in between.

So it was difficult to tell how long it had been, before a finger tapped on the glass.

You looked up, heart leaping at the sight of the blurred figure on the other side of the mirror until your vision readjusted.

“They really did a number on you, didn’t they?” Mark asked. His expression could have almost been mistaken for concern, if you didn’t know exactly what he was. “Who knew Damien had it in him?”

He seemed momentarily surprised by the growl that emanated from the mirror, but then he just smiled and made a show of brushing a piece of lint off of his red jacket’s sleeve. Almost casually, he remarked, “So I’m guessing they told you about my little trick at the party.”

“You did this,” you said, barely able to summon the strength to speak, much less to shout, to rage at the man behind this all, as much as you wanted to. Instead, you could only ask, “…Why?”

For a moment, you thought he couldn’t even hear you as he continued readjusting his bow tie, as though he were looking into his own reflection, but once done his expression hardened as his eyes met yours.

“Me? I didn’t put you in this mirror. I’m not the one who pulled the trigger. I didn’t steal another man’s wife, I didn’t look my friend in the eyes and lie to them, for years on end!” He leaned in closer to the mirror, the palms of his hand resting on the table underneath it, and said, “All I did was send a couple of cards and show you all what it’s like to know everyone around you is hiding something, to never know who you can trust because no matter how long or how well you think you know someone—well, apparently that doesn’t mean anything.”

“You didn’t—” You stopped mid sentence, one hand going to the glass to support yourself as a fresh wave of pain hit you, so hard that for a moment Mark and the room behind him almost disappeared.

“Then again, maybe your problem was more choosing the wrong person to trust with your precious secret,” Mark said, his voice muffled but slowly coming back into focus. “I never expected them to take that mirror card so literally, but I suppose that’s Damien for you. I wonder if the sweet, innocent mayor was tired of protecting and covering for you. And don’t even get me started on that monster hunter.”

“Don’t.”

Mark arched an eyebrow at that. “Sure, if I were being charitable, I might think the twins piloting that rotten corpse just wanted you out of the way, to keep you somewhere safe while they went on their revenge crusade against the big, bad Markiplier. I mean they could have taken your body instead with a little more effort, so that’s something. Except...then they’d have to deal with that whole curse thing you have going on, wouldn’t they? And there’s the little fact that dear Damien knows just as well as I do that this mirror was an antique that came with the house. My parents paid a fortune to have it re-silvered, brought it up all the time—did you know that mirrors are basically sheets of glass coated with silver? So, to trap a werewolf in a mirror…”

He paused, but when there was no response from the other side of the glass, he continued.

“Needlessly cruel, I have to say. But I could help you, Y/N. I could get you out of there.”

He reached toward the glass only to pause again when a second growl, deeper and stronger than the last, came from your throat. You couldn’t even stand to look at him, walking around in that stolen body, smiling with his stolen face and acting like he hadn’t ruined so many lives, much less listen to any more of his lies.

“…Or not, if that’s what you want,” Mark said, taking a step back with his hands raised. He smiled at you. “But maybe some time in your silver prison will give you some perspective. I’ll come back around, once you’re ready to learn how to heel.”

You snarled, face distorting to become more like the wolf as Mark turned and walked out the door, but once he was gone the growl faded into a quiet, desperate whine.

---

It took far longer for Abe to wake up, without someone else to help guide the way, but he did. After all, death didn’t mean the same thing here.

He woke with a pain in his chest to an empty and silent house. The gun in his hand slipped to the floor as his fingers desperately searched beneath his stained shirt and found the wound that he shouldn’t have survived, that wasn’t bleeding like it should be even if it still hurt like hell. How long had he been out?

He tried to stand and gave that idea up quickly, instead choosing to sit there while his lungs struggled against the effort of breathing again, while his searching eyes went from the sealed door to the balcony railing, scattered and fraying thoughts slowly piecing themselves back together.

The Colonel.

He shot him—which, honestly, wasn’t as surprising as the fact that he was still, somehow, alive.

Abe remembered the shock, his vision fading as he slowly slid down the wall, he remembered your scream, a sound he didn’t even know you were capable of.

And he remembered the sound of the second gunshot, the crack still audible over the Colonel’s desperate voice before everything went dark.

“Partner,” Abe whispered, and then shouted as he dragged himself over to the railing and looked through the bars at the black and white tiles so far down below, empty except for a single stain and a discarded military jacket.

It wasn’t a pretty run down the stairs, but Abe made it, one hand pressed tight to his chest, the other keeping a firm grip on his gun. The lobby area swirled and danced around him as he spun, eyes desperately searching for the one thing he was terrified to find, but there was no sign of you or your body.

“Y/N!” he screamed, but there was no answer except the echo of his own voice.

A silver bullet, straight to the chest. It was a miracle he was still alive, but you—you couldn’t be…

A shuddering gasp escaped from his chest and Abe took off again, searching every room of the house and trying, desperately, not to finish that thought. Not that it did anything to stop the tears streaming freely down his cheeks, as his voice calling out your name, calling out for his partner, went from a shout to a shaking whisper.

Eventually, he found himself standing in the lobby again, now sure that he was the only one left in this terrible, cursed house. There wasn’t even a body to hold, to grieve over, to lay to rest. The Colonel hadn’t even left him that much.

Abe pressed his hand to his chest again. The pain was still there, but he wasn’t dead yet. And somewhere out there, his partner’s murderer was still walking around, but he knew how to fix that.

After all, if there was one thing Abe knew how to do, it was how to hunt a monster.

He turned and walked out the front door, the last person to do so for years. The house sat silent and in theory empty, undisturbed until the door opened again. Until Abe heard about the reports of a break-in and strange lights coming from the house up on the hill, until he forced himself to go and see for himself the door left hanging open, the disturbed dust on the tiles suggesting the intruders only came in as far as the lobby, where the shattered remains of the mirror lay scattered on the floor.

He couldn’t know then, what it would mean for him or his long-lost partner.

Although he might have had the faintest hope of an idea, if he had seen the large paw prints leading away from the house, running in an unsteady line toward the nearby woods.

((And that’s the end of Is This Your Card? Thank you for reading, and sticking through this story. I’m not a fan of depressing endings, and for the record I don’t plan on leaving this series here. I have very definite ideas of where I want the story to go from here, but it might be a while before I’m ready to start writing it.

Until then, seriously, thank you for reading!

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate @missksketch ))

#markiplier #fanfiction #wkm au #werewolf au #monster hunter au #wkm district attorney #wkm abe #wkm mark #mirror mirror on the wall #wolf and hunter will meet again

[zippers-flowers-and-wine]

Hello! With the soft sentence starters, can I please request Bruno with the sentence "Are we really doing this? Are we really slow-dancing?" 👉👈

Pulling at the wetsuit, you glance nervously at your diving guide as the woman loudly goes back over basic diving safety. Giving your own gear a quick once over, you sit back and internally lament your current predicament. After you had blown them off for nearly a week straight, your friends had roped manipulated you into this madness. You couldn't muster up a good argument against their incessant whining that you never hung out anymore, and that they missed you a bunch.

It made you feel like the worst kind of person when they had you recall the last time you hung out with them, and all you could think of was the office party last month...

"Dude, I hope we see some dolphins or something!"

Speak of the devil.

Not noticing your startled jump, one of your female friends throws her arms around your waist and leans all of her weight into you as she squeals, "Oooh!! What if we see a merperson!? Gosh, wouldn't that be so exciting!" A few of the other divers shift, flashing her annoyed glances even as your other two friends, both guys, burst into excited murmurs.

Forcing your anxious look off of your face, you grin and nod excitedly as you try to match their enthusiasm. "100% dude!" Her eyes flick up, scrutinizing you and in an attempt to keep her from noticing the cold sweat that has appeared across the nape of your neck, you blurt, "I'm surprised you managed to land us a spot with this instructor."

"Yeah, Bon." It's the taller of your two male friends, Medsus, who chimes in. "Everywhere I looked was booked, so how did you manage that?"

Bonnie huffs, flicking her long ponytail to the side as she flashes the dark skinned man a smirk. "Oh Meddy, you know I have my ways."

"Guys, I think we might wanna pay attention." Narco is the one to chime in now. Blinking, all three of you face the instructor... Who is staring you down with an icy glare.

"Thank you for finally paying attention." She gripes, turning back to the group as a whole. "Now, I've heard some of you voice your concerns about the merfolk that may be in the area." Bonnie is the only one who makes an excited noise; everyone else is too busy shuffling their feet, or staring apprehensively at the surface of the water like a fully grown shark mer is going to leap out at them. Chuckling a little, the instructor walks to the back of the boat, sitting on one of the steps with her feet in the water.

"You don't need to worry about that then. Any and all merfolk you will see around here will be harmless dolphin merfolk, or fur seal merfolk." As if to prove her point, a head and torso pops up above the waves and settles on her lap, clicking at you all. Everyone bursts into startles gasps, and excited squeals which quickly fade into whispers. Chuckling, the instructor slips into the water, twisting to face all of you. "Well then? Are you coming?"

Bonnie is the first to squeal, "Yes!" while hopping up and down. The dolphin at the instructors side clicks and mimics her hopping by bobbing in the water a bit faster.

Smirking, the instructor motions her forward with one, slim finger. "Okay, Ms. Enthusiasm. Hop on in." The brunette is damn near vibrating with her excitement, pulling her goggles on and pulling her flipper fully on. And, like the weirdo she is, Bonnie doesn't go down the steps like the instructor did, nope.

Instead she leaps over the side of the boat, surfacing with a dazzling grin. Chuckling at her, the instructor swims over with the dolphin mer, who looks positively thrilled to get closer. "Since we are in open waters, this cluster of dolphin mers has offered to accompany us. It will be a buddy system so that no stray sharks or anything will get brave and decide to take a bite."

Now, with Bonnie yelling at the instructor do something, Medsus telling her to calm down, and Narco yelling for you to keep calm, you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Hell, it was a fucking miracle you hadn't dissolved into pure panic by now.

Then again, you muse while twisting to keep the 12 foot leopard seal mer in sight, the worst thing you can do is panic in front of a wild animal.

He's pretty despite the danger he possesses, you'll give him that much. Leopard seals were already rather gorgeous, with the short, silvery fur contrasted by the gray and black spots that were it's namesake. This merman was no exception, his human skin less of a healthy tan and more silver-gray in hue, with his human chest covered in sleek black marks that remind you of some racy undergarments you have at home.

He circles you slowly, occasionally dipping closer and then shifting away when you kick your flippered feet at him. The dolphin mer that had been your partner is circling outside of the leopard seals radius, too worried about making him feel threatened to try for a rescue.

"(Y/N), I need you to follow everything that I say, okay?" Not taking your eyes off of the blurry silhouette, you raise one of your wrinkly hands to flash her a quick thumbs up. "Alright, I want you to try and swim out of his circling, can you do that for me?"

"Are you fucking crazy! He'll attack her!" Bonnie shrills, her assigned mer reaching up to shush her.

You don't hear what the instructors says in response, because the next thing you know, a pair of hands have grabbed each of your ankles and your given .2 seconds to suck in a deep breath before being yanked under.

(I physically cannot finish this. Everytime I close out of this draft after adding to it and saving the damn thing, it deletes whole ass paragraphs. I'm done trying to write on Tumblr directly. I've had to redo this 4 times now.

What was going to happen was Bruno was going to toy with you, spinning you around a bunch, nearly drowning you twice before your dolphin buddy dives in, and you book it. Enjoy.)

#mmr soft sentences #merman bruno