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kennedybaby · 1 year ago

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DO I WANNA KNOW ? ~ LEON S. KENNEDY.

Summary: Leon just had to take the chance.

Word count: 3.814k / Warnings: stepcest, dddne, mild dubcon at first.

Contents 18+: unprotected sex, missionary, he eats your pussy thru the damn panties, he got a big dick (canon), praising, clit-slap (?), creampie, risky sex.

Pairing: Stepbrother! Leon S. Kennedy X Fem! Reader.

Author note: writing got a little rusty.... but!!! i had fun writing this （＾ν＾）stepbro leon is 2 die 4. kudos to the anon who sent the idea of stepbro leon into my inbox. ilyyyyy 🩷

🖥️ MAIN MENU

🎬 MDNI. DARK CONTENT.

DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR MODIFY ANY OF MY WORKS. ©️ KENNEDYBABY

have you no idea that you’re in deep? i dreamt about you nearly every night this week. how many secrets can you keep?

You drive him insane. Literally. And it’s not even your fault, you were nothing but a sweetheart and Leon was nothing but a complete, degenerate mess when it comes to you.

You were the forbidden fruit that Leon desperately wanted to devour.

There’s a time when he’s left alone in his room after a long, exhausted day at work and all he could think about was you. It doesn’t help how he always had to come home late due to his late-night patrols around the city and all he can hear within the thin walls was your muffled moans and the sound of your fingers squelching and pushing into your cunt. You didn’t know about two things; One, Leon coming back home late because he always makes sure not to make too much noise when he’s downstairs. Two, Leon pressing his ear against the wall with his cock in his fist, furiously stroking up and down to the sound of your mewls. By the time you were done, all he can hear is the water running and splashing in the marbled sink of your bathroom as you washed your hands clean while he was reaching for tissues to wipe his semen off his sheets and abs.

It sort of become a daily routine for Leon. It’s wrong, he knows, you’re his stepsister and the thoughts he had for you in mind were nowhere near appropriate for someone who he should consider as his little sister. But he can’t just suppress the thoughts and feelings he had, the more he pushed aside, the more it grows and torments him, basically eating him alive. The fact that he lives under the same roof as you alone makes things harder for him, but he wasn’t complaining. Not one bit.

Leon gets to see you, a lot. He’d see you laying on your stomach with your shirt slightly ridden up on your back and your shorts hugging the curve of your ass, baby pink panties peeking thru its hem without you noticing it. And sometimes, his eyes would linger on you longer than he anticipated, his teeth biting the inside of his cheeks as his feet nervously tapped on the wooden flooring. You’d bend down in front of him to pick up the spoon on the floor and his breath would hitch seeing the outline of your pussy strained against your shorts. You were none the wiser, oblivious to the way his eyes flittered on your body and your lips but never directly on your eyes.

Because if Leon did look you in the eyes, he would feel guilty for thinking about bending you over the kitchen counter and fuck you stupid when you genuinely wanted to know how his day went at work.

“Leon?” You softly call out his voice, knuckles knocking on the door of his bedroom before Leon rushed to answer you. The sweat on his forehead was quickly wiped with the back of his hand, and his breathing ragged as he adjusted himself. “Yeah?” His voice was strained, exhausted from his work. “Can I come in?” Your fingers toyed with the steel doorknob, leaning your forehead lightly against his door. You heard the small ‘yeah’ before he opened it to you. Lips curling into a small smile, you looked up at him before you stepped inside his room. “Were you sleeping? I didn’t mean to bother.” You said to him, sitting on the edge of his bed before you crossed your legs. “No, no, I was just... Resting.” He replied, his eyes following your every move. Pushing the strands off your face, you tilt your head to the picture of you and him on his bedside.

“Aw, you still kept this?” You hold up the photo frame at him, your thumb glided on the glass surface gently as you gaze at it. “Why wouldn’t I?” He shrugged before he takes a sit next to you on his bed, purposely grazing his fingers against your thighs as he bite back the urge to let out a content sigh.

“I was so cute back then,” Your lips slightly puckered out, pouting at the sight of your younger version in the picture. A warm spread throughout your chest, it’s nice to know Leon keeps this photo of you and him— it makes you feel special. “You’re still so cute now.” His compliment brings heat to your cheeks, your elbow finding their way to playfully nudge his ribs before a soft chuckle left past your lips when he nudged you back. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” You rolled your eyes, placing back the picture frame on the table before you leaned back and lay on his bed with a small thud.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.” He grinned at you, laying back next to you before he take a deep breath. He’d glanced at you, once, just one look on your face before he quickly avert his eyes away from you and glued them back on the ceiling. Leon knows he would end up staring at you, it’s a bad habit. He can’t help it, just the way your eyes drowsily looked up to the ceiling, your lips slightly parted as your fingers cling to his pillow. He wondered if your fingers would cling to the meat of his thighs if he was fucking your throat, filling every corner of your mouth with his cock until hot tears streamed down your wet cheeks— “They didn’t even tell me they were out of town.” The sound of your voice cutting thru the silence pause his thoughts before Leon tilts his head at you. “Why? You wanna go out or something? They’re just out attending my— our dad’s work party somewhere out of town in a hotel.” He stated.

‘Yeah, right, our dad. As if I wasn’t just thinking about fucking my stepsister.’ Leon thought to himself. God, he’s a sick, sick man.

“I know, I’m just really bored. That’s why I came here.” You said to him, completely oblivious to the fact that his eyes practically gleamed at your w. Leon sits up on his bed, his fingers pushing back the strands of hair on his face before he turned to look at you, a small smirk dawns on his lips. “So you come to me to have fun?” A small giggle left past your lips, the faint blush on your cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed. “Please, you make that sounds weird.” You shake your head, only to quickly shut down the fit of giggles you had when you feel his fingers brush against your thighs. Heat courses to your cheeks before a low hum emitted out of you, “Weird? I don’t know what you’re implying.” Leon does, he does. Fuck, this was probably the most he could do to you, just stroking your thighs as his fingers grow higher and higher as the warmth of your cunt radiates against his skin. He swallowed thickly, his fingers lightly squeezing the fat of your thighs before he leaned down to you. “Maybe you’re the weird one.”

Your eyes slightly widened, fingers quickly latching on his wrist before you stopped him from going further. “Leon,” You made a pathetic attempt to sound stern when you called his name when in reality, your voice sounded more like a whine as if you wanted him to keep going. “We can’t.” You didn’t say no, you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t want this too. You lose count of how many nights you spent, staying up watching taboo porn under your blanket with your fingers desperately stuffing your cunt and trying to relieve the ache between your legs while having Leon at the back of your head. You lose count of how many times you muffled out his name into your pillow every time you climaxes around your fingers during the darkest hour. And now that, Leon’s hand is practically inches away from grazing against your pussy, all you could do is looked away from his piercing gaze as you clench your thighs around his wrist. “It’s wrong.”

But it doesn’t mean neither he nor you wanted it less. Leon probably wanted it the most, his mind practically going haywire from how close your body is pressed to his.

“I can stop if you want, just say the word.” His voice was soft and you can’t help but look back into his eyes, before you lay there, contemplating if you should just go for it. Either you do it now, where no one’s home or never do it with him and to be honest, you would pick the first option in a heartbeat. “Keep going,” As soon as you let those words out, Leon leaned in to kiss you, his tongue pushing past your lips as explored every inch of your mouth. His hand resting on your cheek while the other is rubbing your clit thru your shorts with his index and middle fingers until there’s a damp spot forming on the fabric. Pulling away from the kiss with a string of saliva connected on the tip of each other tongues. “You’re so wet already,” He grinned, his face diving between the crook of your neck before he gently nibs your skin and sucked the fresh hickey he gives you on your neck.

“You love getting your pussy played by big brother?” When did that innocent nickname you used to call him make you so flustered? The way it smoothly rolled off to the tip of his tongue and the way his voice slightly dropped an octave made it sound lewd. You hated how much it turns you on, your cunt dripping with your arousal just from his little teasing. “Leon, stop embarrassing me.” You huffed in slight annoyance at his teasing before you hide your heated face with his pillow which Leon was not too happy with. He quickly takes the pillow off your grasp and throws it behind him, “No hiding, princess. D’you know how long I waited to do this?” Leon whispered to you, his lips kissing your jawline. “Too damn long.” He grumbled, pulling away from you before he kneels on the floor. His hands easily dragged you to the edge of his bed before he parted your thighs. “All I can think about is fucking you stupid, do you know how much that tortures me knowing I can’t?” He groans, his fingers were quick to slip the shorts off your legs and let them fall to the carpeted floor.

Leon couldn’t be bothered to take off your panties, instantly latching his lips on your clit thru your panties as he vigorously sucks on it with sheer fervour. The suddenness illicit a sharp gasp past your lips, your elbows and heels digging into his mattress as you watched his mouth clung to the bundle of nerves like no tomorrow with your thighs clamping around his head. “Shit, Leon...” You curse under your breath, head thrown back as he slurped every drop of you thru the thin undergarment. A soft moan croaks out of you as Leon finally pushed aside your panties, his tongue flattened before he dragged a long line on your pussy. “Taste so fucking good,” He can feel his cock straining in his pants, causing some discomfort but that was the last thing he care about, not when he was nose-deep into his stepsister’s sweet cunt. He could care less about anything when his mind is fixated on the way you rolled your hips and rides his tongue, smothering him before he pulled away for air.

“You’re so needy, baby.” Leon littered kisses on your inner thighs, the tip of his tongue flicking your clit causing your hips to jerk forward. His forearms push your hips down to the bed before he lightly slapped your clit and chuckles when you wince from the slight pain. “Don’t do that.” You whine, biting your lower lip back as you let yourself relish back into the pleasure when he kisses your clit, giving it a little suck and pulling away with a small pop. “I know, baby. Just wants you to stay still.” He said to you softly, his eyes shifting up to lock eyes with you. He loves the way your eyes tear up, your cheeks growing hot as your fingers cling to the bedsheets. He loves prodding his tongue into your warm hole while his thumb rubs your sensitive clit until you throw your head back into the pillow with your back arching into his tongue. “I’ll stay still,” It’s surprising how you can still talk properly despite being so high from the pleasure he’s giving you. A dribble of spit already starts dripping at the corner of your mouth, your eyes rolled to the back of your head each time Leon flattened his tongue and dragged it slowly on your dripping cunt until your body shuddered in pleasure.

Your fingers interlocked with his brown hair, tugging and pulling him closer as you slowly reached your climaxes. He didn’t mind, he like the feeling of your nails slightly digging into his scalp while you desperately chases your high. God, Leon probably won’t even mind if his head is bleeding from how hard you're tugging onto him if it meant having the chance to get a taste of your pussy and your soft thighs wrapped around his head. A strained scream sputtered out of your throat when you finally come undone in his mouth, your hips stuttering into his lips as Leon licks every drop of your juices and drank it down with a content grin. His hand reached down to his pants as he palmed his throbbing cock thru his pants, his fingers rubbing up and down on the outline of his shaft before he stands up from his knees. Leon pulled down his shorts until they slipped off his legs leaving him in his black boxer. The bed shifted as his knees digs into the cushion of his mattress.

“Want your cock,” Your words were slurred but you manage to whisper the words into his ears when he gets on top of you. You bring your fingers crawled up and cupped his face before you pulled him into a sloppy kiss, letting his teeth clashes against yours without a care in the world as his hands grip your waist. “Yeah? Beg for it.” He pulled away from the kiss, his blue eyes back into yours as you tucked your bottom lip under your teeth. It’s clear he won’t give you what you wanted until you actually say it to his face. A heavy sigh left your swollen lips, “Please, I need you inside of me. Fuck..." You paused, nuzzling your face to hide your warm cheeks into his neck before you continues, “Fuck your stepsister.” Leon grinned at your words, his lips leaving a small kiss on your collarbone before he pulled away to push down his boxer. “You got it, baby.”

Your eyes watered up as you mumbled a low curse when you feel the tip of his cock pushed into your cunt. It brings immediate weight to your chest as your breathing grows ragged, a part of you still refuses to believe this was happening— you’re fucking your stepbrother, allowing his fingers to gently pinch your hardened nipples while he buries his cock inch by inch. Your fingers quickly pressed against his chest, stopping him immediately as Leon shoot you a concerned look, his hand coming up to rest on your cheek.

“You okay?” He whispered to you when you let out a small wince, eyebrows knitted together before you looked down to where the two of you were connected. “It won’t fit, Leon.” You croak out a small cry, he’s stretching you apart and he’s not even all the way in. “It will, princess, just... I’ll take it slow, okay? It’s going to be okay.” Leon smiled after you weakly nodded your head to his assurance, your arms trails up to wrap around his neck before he slowly pushed himself inside of you. A low moan guttered out of his throat once he finally sheathed himself fully inside of your tight, sopping cunt. Cold sweats run down his forehead and body as he takes in every little noise you made underneath him.

He stayed in your arms for a few seconds before he retracts to prop up the back of your knee with his hand. Leon stared down at the way his cock formed a small bump on your pelvis before he moved his hips slowly, the pad of his thumb rubs your skin in a circular motion. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” Leon said to you in a hushed tone, his head slightly thrown back before he gulped down to the feeling of your inner walls pulsating around his cock. Leon averted his eyes from the ceiling back to your body, staring at the way your shirt pushed up over your chest, your fingers keeping your panties aside as he pushes himself in and out of your cunt at a slow, consistent pace. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He moaned eyes shutter tight before he exhaled a sharp breath. “God, you’re clinging to me,” Leon let out a soft chuckle, his lips finding their way to peck on your swollen ones. “Can’t help it... You’re too big. S’all your fault.” You mumbled, eyes dazedly looking up to him as drops of his sweat drips down to your body.

“I know, baby. It’s all my fault.” He cooed to you, his lips coming in contact with your forehead as he leaves a kiss. You didn’t even realise he had picked up his pace, his hips rocking back and forth faster than before as his balls slaps on your ass, filling the room with nothing but the sound of skin slapping and your wanton moans. “You’re taking it so well though, you love getting fucked by your big brother?” You hummed to his question, “Mhm, love gettin’ fucked by you.” You breathed out. Leon can feel his cock throb inside of you, the grip at the back of your knee tightening as his knuckles gradually whitened. The bedframe rocked back and forth, scratching the blue paint off his wall into straight, white lines as it squeaks under the weight of the two of you. You tried so hard not to glance at the picture of Leon and you on his bedside, almost staring back at the both of you with nothing but utter shame.

The two of you had crossed the line you knew you can’t back out from. Not that Leon cared, every logic in his head was thrown out of the window the second you told him to keep going.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the way you digs your nails into his shoulders made his breath stagger. The friction between both yours and his body sends your mind into a frenzy that you almost, almost, made you miss the sound of the front door being unlocked and the sound of your parents happily chatting downstairs. “Fuck,” That was all Leon had to say to put a small pause on what he was doing, his forehead leaned against your shoulder as he bit his bottom lips back. He stayed silent for a few seconds before he rocks his hips back, taking you by surprise, “Leon, we should—" You parted your lips to speak only for his hand to go over your mouth, “Just be quiet. Be a good girl for me, yeah?" He says. You nodded, letting his hand press against your lips, your eyes shooting wide when his thrusts became more and more fervent as you wrapped your legs around his waist tightly.

Leaning your head back into his pillow, he took the advantage to leave marks all over your neck, nipping your soft skin until it turns into a slightly darker shade from your skin. Leon moves up to your face, giving you a small peck on the lips thru his hand before he let out a low chuckle. Removing his hand from the back of your knees to hold onto your waist while his other hand is over your lips, you can feel he’s getting faster and faster. Leon can feel it, he was getting so close and he can feel you were too with the way your inner walls tightened up around him, sucking him in deeper and deeper as the squelching sounds fills the room. “Can I cum in you, princess? Please, can I?” He begs, keeping his tone hushed as he whispered into your ear, sending the back of your hair stand up.

You frantically nodded, muffling out a small high-pitched ‘yeah’ to him before you glanced at the way his cock pushing in and out of you, glistening with your arousals under his bed lamp as Leon pushed his hips towards you, burying his cock deeper into a rougher pace. A choked scream left your lips when the orgasm comes washing over your body as you shut your eyes close, the grip around his shoulders tightening before your body falls limp under him. A sharp breath left his lips when he feels you finish around him before he quickly did the same, shooting his cum deep inside of you before he removed the hand over your mouth and pressed it against his bed to support himself. His muscles flexed as you watched his cock throb inside of you, spilling his warm seeds into your sensitive cunt before he pulls out from you with a groan. When he finally rides off his high, Leon looked down at the way your panties were scrunched up to the side as they pressed against your inner thigh— he was so eager to fuck you he didn’t even bother to take off your panties. Not that he’s complaining, it keeping his cum from spilling out of you.

“Fuck, baby..." Leon breathed out, a strained laugh falls past his lips before he leaned in to kiss you on the lips and pulled away afterwards. He stared back into your half-lidded stare, your chest heaved as you catches up with your breath. Your lips curled into a small smile when Leon brush the strand of hair off your face, “You should probably go back to your room, princess." He suggested, helping you sit up on his bed. His fingers played with the strap of your panties before he looked back at you, the corner of his lips curled into a playful smirk.

“Keep this on. I want you to go to bed with my cum inside of you. ”

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s. kennedy #leon s. kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x female reader #tw. stepcest #stepbro!leon #stepbro! leon kennedy x reader #resident evil 4 x reader #resident evil 4 smut #stepbro leon smut #tw. dark content #tw. dubcon #leon s. kennedy fic #leon s. kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you

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obsidianpen · 1 month ago

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to the anon who sent me the long thoughtful post about how to analyze AI and confirming what is most likely true, and to all the other anons who have sent me things being supportive, agreeing with me, etc., thank you, but I’m not going to post them. If you really truly want to say something please either submit non-anon or do it on your blog… or better yet, don’t. I completely get where you’re all coming from, and understand the appeal of having your thoughts posted on my blog in a way that doesn’t show your name, but I’m done thinking about this person and I think everyone else should be too.

instead, here is something we can all do that would be a much better use of time! Go read and comment on some very deserving, amazing works! Here are some - with the disclaimer that I have not read all of these in their entirety, someday I will, but I’ve at least read some and was instantly impressed:

Peremo !!!! Can’t say enough good things about this fic. Def read all of this one. It goes from 0 to 100 pretty quick near the end. A perfect Tom Riddle portrayal. Loved it. I would give this fic a million kudos if I could.

Wolfer - only read the first chapter, just now in fact, but damn, this is poetry right here. If the idea of reading a Western intrigues you, read this!

Altered State - just read a bit of this one last night, it is already promising to be a very dark yummy read. Also, a Voldemort who’s not young and unabashedly sexy but not a snake face, but is somewhere in between? Hot. Love to see it.

Warpaint - I read this one a loooooong time ago!!! Hermione has the diary. If memory serves it was very artistic, highly recommend if you want a Hogwarts story.

Sleep is the Cousin of Death - looking for some dark deranged smut? Can’t do better than Nekositting. Reader beware. The doves are real dead here.

and there are SO many more. ✨

#Tomione #fic rec

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iatnen · 17 days ago

Note

Thank you for replying to me! 🙈

Do you have character sheets for Daniel? I’d love to see how you characterise him and what kind of personality he has. I have no artistic talent AT ALL so I live vicariously through different artists on tumblr who draw their MC, so thank you for entertaining me ❤️

HI AGAIN ANON

I actually did not have a character sheet ready when you sent this so I had to scramble to make one for you LMAO I sorta based it on @choccy-milky’s char sheet since I had no idea how to make one…… Also kinda crazy how he looks so different than when I first drew him just a week ago…

But erm yeah I guess I can try to tell a little bit about Daniel’s character even though I still haven’t thought too deeply about it. I’ll try to keep it brief 😰

Basic description of Daniel’s personality:

Competitive: likes to win/be the best, loves sports (Quidditch ofc 😼 !!!), a bit of a perfectionist, gets frustrated with little mistakes

Stubborn: doesn’t know how to quit, the type of guy to go to Quidditch practice even when he’s sick, needs a lot of convincing to get him to listen 😅, when he’s locked in he’s LOCKED IN

Independent: prefers to handle things on his own, doesn’t like receiving help from others, can work in a team but would just be off doing his own thing

Emotionally reserved: isn’t great with emotions especially his own, bottles up feelings/ignores them, often leans more towards being logical in decision-making situations rather than emotional

Awkward: ………yeah 👍

Lowkey just a chill guy who doesn’t gaf (but actually does secretly gaf)

As for his relationship with Sebastian aside from the canon game events, they both love quidditch so that bonded them even closer together as teammates. I think that slowly they both begin to mutually notice each other but don't want to speak up in fear of ruining their friendship and also they’re just in denial…. So they resort to just teasing each other and being like “let’s kiss each other to see what kissing a girl feels like” 😅

I’m so sorry it’s not really detailed…. Like I said I haven’t thought much about it/still in progress of building him and also cuz I didn’t want to make this post too long cuz who wants to read all that yap. BUUUUT I am drafting up a fanfic about them, not sure how long I want it to be tho 😰 Hopefully that will give you guys more info of his character and see their dynamic in action. WRITING IS SO HARD kudos to all you writers !!! If only I can write as good as I can draw 😿 Don’t expect it to be up anytime soon tho IT MIGHT NEVER EVEN BE POSTED WHO KNOWS !!!! DON’T EXPECT ANYTHING !!!! I PROBABLY SHOULDN’T TELL YOU THAT IF I CANT PROMISE IT BUT WHATEVS !!!! 😰😰😰

#IM SORRY FOR YAPPING #I feel bad for taking up your guys’ feed #I’ll really try to write tho…#but I’m no Shakespeare #I need to stop making promises I can’t keep 😭#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #daniel anderson #ask

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therhythmafterthesummer · 2 years ago

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Dog Unleashed (M) ~Lee Know

Pairing: Werewolf!Minho x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Mild Angst? | Established Relationship Word Count: ~11k | AO3 Synopsis: Starting a relationship with the man that had been your best friend since you were a kid was and wasn’t easy in equal parts. It was, because there wasn’t anyone in this world you trusted more than Minho, there wasn’t anyone that made you feel this safe. But sometimes, it just wasn’t. Not only because of the physical distance, but also because of the challenges that posed having a supernatural boyfriend who didn’t like to talk about his equally supernatural problems. [This story is a sort of pt. 2 to Camping with Wolves, and it’s an instalment of my WereRoomies series]. Warnings: pet names (baby, kitten, etc) · a bit of miscommunication (it’ll be fine, i promise) · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut). please let me know if i missed anything !

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Author’s Note: i dedicate this one to my fellow monsterfuckers. this had been sitting in my WIPs for a while, but i finally got some inspo to write about Minho and his kitten, so here it is 🥰 kudos to the anon from this ask for cementing in my brain the idea that minho would text his kitten every morning like he does here. as usual, don’t hesitate to let me know if anything’s phrased weirdly, or to leave your thoughts in the tags/captions/send an ask/etc. y’all know i really appreciate them💜

for those that might not know, a queen is an adult female cat that hasn’t been spayed.

Minho’s WereRoomies Instalments: Camping With Wolves · Dog Unleashed · Are You There, Wolf?

Smut Warnings: sexting? (nudes are sent) · an anal plug is used · oral [M&F.Rec] · mouth fucking · fingering [F.Rec] · forced orgasm [F.Rec] · unprotected penetration [piv] · good ol’ rut driven intercourse · creampie · knotting · a barely present breeding kink.

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

You’d always known you were in love with your best friend, although you weren’t quite sure when you fell for him exactly, much less when you realised it.

Maybe it had been the moment you saw him on the brink of death, attached to all those life support devices after he’d been attacked by a werewolf… Or maybe before that, when he started to become the most reliable person in your life… Or, maybe, it was the very first day you met him, when he was placing injured stray kittens in a box to get them to a vet as soon as possible so they wouldn’t die.

Regardless, it didn’t really matter to you when it happened or when you noticed it, all that mattered to you right now was the fact that, after one fateful camping trip to the woods, you had finally been able to confess your feelings. That, even though you had never even entertained the possibility of him wanting you, he actually did. And not only did he want you, he wanted you a lot–for a long time, too.

Minho was your favourite person in this world, and starting a relationship with him seemed to have only heightened that feeling tenfold. He was your biggest supporter, he was always there for you. Even if you lived almost an hour away, you knew that, at any given moment, you’d be able to call him and he’d be there for you. Either on the phone or he’d drive to your place as fast as he legally could.

The distance hardly ever seemed to matter. Of course you missed him every day–you’d always done so, even when you were just friends–Of course you wished you could go to bed with him next to you every night, but that wasn’t a possibility at this time, so you both made do however you could.

Your previously monthly schedule to hang out had turned into a weekly one. You both tried to meet up every weekend. Most of the time it was you who drove to his place–to his den–since being surrounded by him and his family was always incredibly comforting to you. It was always much, much better than your cold, borderline sterile flat.

He’d asked you to move in with him several times throughout the years, and you had never really entertained that offer, mostly because of your job–and maybe also because, at the time, your feelings for him were too hard to ignore even with the distance, so living with your best friend who you had deep feelings for simply would’ve made it all so much more difficult.

Now that you were officially A Thing, the offer hung in the air. Minho hadn’t asked again after you got together, but you knew it was on the tip of his tongue every time you both became tangled limbs on his bed. And even though he had not asked yet, you were still thinking about it, wondering what you would answer, and how you’d handle the aftermath of that answer.

If you said yes, you’d have to drop your job and try to find one closer to his place, and honestly, at this time, you weren’t sure you were ready to face the levels of anxiety job hunting always brought you to. But then, saying no wouldn’t have felt right at all, because, ultimately, you wanted to be as close to Minho as you could. You supposed it was for the best that he hadn’t talked to you about it yet, it’d give you more time to figure things out, to mentally prepare yourself.

The sound of your phone vibrating on your nightstand brought you back from your thoughts. You’d been waking up earlier than usual these days, probably because you had a lot of things on your mind, so you had been lying there for around an hour already, waiting for your alarm to go off.

The vibration wasn’t produced by your alarm, though. It was produced by an incoming message, so you stretched your arm, taking your phone from where it had been charging all night. A smile made its way to your face as you read the preview of a message you already expected to receive, and as you read the contact name your dear boyfriend had decided to add to his number no more than two days after you got together.

You wasted no more time and unlocked your phone to read the whole thread.

> MinhoTheBestBoyfriendEver: good morning kitten > did you sleep well? > was i in your dreams?

Minho had always had his own way of being clingy when you were friends. He’d sent messages throughout the day with any and every thought that he wanted to share with you, he’d try to hang out for as long as possible, or he would hug and cuddle you for hours when possible. Now, as your boyfriend, that clinginess had doubled, and you were honestly enjoying the extra attention he was giving you, just as much as you were enjoying his extra need for attention.

< You: Of course you were. < You’re the man of my dreams, after all.

> MinhoTheBestBoyfriendEver: 🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀 > 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 > cmon > tell me everything > dont you dare leave any details out

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you moved to your notes app, copying the text you’d written on this morning’s note and pasting it in the conversation with your boyfriend. It was a habit you’d picked up throughout the years, to write your dreams in a journal or your phone as soon as you woke up, so you wouldn’t forget. Minho knew, of course. So if he found out you dreamt something, he wanted to have every single detail.

Once you finally got out of bed that morning–at the protests of Sir Percival, your elderly cat that loved to cuddle you to sleep, a cat Minho himself had rescued when you were little–you started getting ready for your day. It was Thursday, but you were already excited for the weekend since you had taken a compensation day tomorrow, so you’d have three whole days you could potentially spend with your boyfriend. He didn’t know yet, though. Your plan was to surprise him tonight, and you hoped everything worked in your favour.

With a fresh face of makeup, dressed in your most professional outfit, you took the bag you kept ready in your closet, full with clean changes of clothes, pyjamas, underwear, toiletries, and anything you could need for your weekend out of the house. The bag was a bit more stuffed than usual today, all thanks to the other part of the surprise you had prepared.

Shooting your friend–and neighbour–a quick text to confirm she’d be able to take care of Sir Percival during your absence, you finally took your belongings and made your way out of your home, into the elevator, and finally to the basement, where your car was parked. Once you had placed the extra bag in the boot of your car, you opened your messaging app again, searching your conversation with one of Minho’s closest friends, and the alpha of his pack, Chris, so you could send him a text, too.

Thankfully, it seemed like Chris was awake already, because he replied almost immediately.

< You: Hellooooo, Mr Alpha of the Pack.

> Chris (Minho): hey mrs kitten of my left hand > hows it going

< You: All good, all good. < I was wondering if it was okay for me to stay over tonight? < And, subsequently, the entire weekend? < I wanna surprise Minho. Please don’t tell him.

> Chris (Minho): of course u can stay over > u dont even need to ask at this point tbh > also consider my mouth sealed shut > welcome back (:

As soon as you knew you could carry out your surprise the day seemed to slow down immensely. Work was just taking too long to be over, the minutes seemed to be lasting a hundred and twenty seconds instead of sixty, and by the time five o’clock rolled in you were already coming out of the office and practically sprinting to your car.

As soon as you sat down on the driver’s seat and secured your seat belt, you checked your phone to see if your boyfriend had answered the message you had sent him earlier in the day. Thankfully, he had just replied.

< You: How’re you doing, baby? < How’s work?

> MinhoTheBestBoyfriendEver: hi kitten > on a break rn > but im pissed > people are just so bad at taking care of their furry friends > cuz theres this like huge ass dog that swallowed a ball > a whole ball baby can you believe? > all cuz these people just werent paying attention to him > hes done this before you know? > im gonna have to stay back for a few hours > he needs surgery > and im the only one that can carry him around > so im pissed > sorry for rambling ☹

You did feel bad for Minho, you knew these things usually got to him, especially since he could quite literally understand his furry patients. However, you also felt relieved, because his overtime meant you would be able to sneak into his flat no problem.

< You: Aw, baby, I’m sorry 🙁 < That sucks. < I hope the big baby makes it just fine. < Do you need a pick-me-up?

You had this habit with Minho even before when you were just friends. When your day was rough either of you two would offer a pick-me-up, which previously consisted of sending cute pictures of Sir Percival, or memes, or just videos of cute animals in general. Lately, though, your pick-me-ups had turned a bit more… Intimate.

> MinhoTheBestBoyfriendEver: god yea > i could use a pickmeup > you can send whatever you want > anything really > but if it influences your decision > know that im alone in the break room > and that i miss you a lot > a whole lot

You chuckled, amused at just how Minho would take every chance you presented to him. So you went into that private folder in your gallery, searching for the most recent pictures you’d taken, the ones with the new lingerie set that you had yet to use.

< You: [sent a photo] < [sent a photo] < [sent a photo] < [sent a photo]

> MinhoTheBestBoyfriendEver: ffffuck me > thats a pickmeup alright > look at you > is that new? > that bras so fucking sheer tf > barely covering your tits > you should bring that tomorrow > so i can rip it off of you

< You: I’ll see what I can do 😇 < Going to start driving now. < Let’s talk later, yeah?

> MinhoTheBestBoyfriendEver: alright kitten > drive safe > lmk when youre home

You didn’t have that particular set in your bag today, but you were sure that what you did have would be even better.

Recently, Minho and his pack had added these digital door locks to the doors of their den. You’d always had a spare key to Minho’s flat for emergencies, but now whenever you came here and tapped the exact date of the day you and Minho met made you feel incredibly special, maybe embarrassingly so.

You still remember when Minho told you that was the number combination he had decided to use. He’d presented his cheek to you and asked ‘aren’t I the best boyfriend ever?’ to which you couldn’t help but laugh, kissing his cheek and replying ‘you’re the cutest boyfriend ever’.

You gave him amazing head an uncountable amount of times that weekend.

As soon as you were inside you settled your belongings in his room, and took your time to freshen up. After around thirty minutes of you being in his flat, Minho had sent you a message whining that he had finally been able to leave work and that he was dying to be home already. So you quickly got yourself ready, after all, the surprise you’d prepared today wasn’t just your presence.

You’d honestly been wanting to try this for a while; you’d been eyeing this entire lingerie set and its added accessories for months, and a couple of weeks ago you finally got the courage to get it. Was it a bit corny? Perhaps. But you knew Minho, and you were certain that the combination of the black top with the cat-shaped cutout in the middle showing where your breasts met, the flimsy panties that could very well be called lacy straps more than anything else, the black stockings with squishy paw pads, the choker with a dangling bell around your neck, the cat ears clipped to your hair, and the plug with the attached black tail inside your ass would make him lose it. Which was exactly what you wanted.

A riled up Minho meant a riled up werewolf boyfriend that’d fuck you silly, and after spending days without seeing him, that was exactly what you were craving tonight.

Your heart almost leaped out of your chest when you heard the characteristic beep, beep, beeps of the front door’s keypad. They were obnoxiously loud and they seemed to bounce off the walls and shoot right inside of you, making you all giddy. So you got comfortable on Minho’s bed, laying on your stomach, adjusting your tail so it’d rest over your back, and propping your chin on your hands.

Very quickly, the sound of the door closing shut was replaced with the sound of your boyfriend sighing, coupled with an ungraceful thud as you figured Minho dropped his bag by the entrance. And suddenly, everything was quiet.

“No fucking way!” You couldn’t help but smile as you heard your boyfriend’s footsteps grow closer. “Please tell me I’m not fucking hallucinating your scent in my house right now, that’d be so mean…”

As soon as he reached the open bedroom door, he brought a hand to his chest and gasped. The surprise lasted a second, because he immediately crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk on his face. “Well, well, well… What do we have here?”

“Welcome home, Minho”, you gave him a smile, just as you kicked your stocking clad feet in the air.

“Well…” Minho walked to the bed, stopping by the end of it and reaching for one of the cat ears clipped to your hair to flick it softly. “It seems like a kitten has truly made her way into my house, hm?”

You–very shamelessly if you might add–moved your gaze from his eyes to his crotch, seeing the bulge in his trousers grow with every second he looked at you, and it sent a rush of excitement down your spine. Returning your eyes to his, you simply smiled at him again before you rolled onto your back, exposing your stomach to him.

The motion had the plug in your ass moving a bit, and immediately you felt yourself heat up with arousal, especially so as you took notice of Minho’s blown pupils, and his borderline predatory stare.

“I was just missing my wolf boyfriend so bad. Figured I’d pay him a visit. Give him a little surprise”, you dragged your hands down your torso, from your chest, all the way down to squeeze them right between your bent legs.

“Mmm…” Tipping his head to the side a bit, Minho’s eyes fixed for a moment on the exposed skin of your breasts, only to move along to your exposed stomach. “I’d say it’s more than a little surprise”.

“Do you like it, though?”

“Kitten”, Minho’s eyes snapped back to yours. He moved his hand to his crotch, effectively diverting your attention to the movement just as he cupped himself over his trousers. “Look how fucking hard I am. I’m absolutely fucking delighted”.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, reaching for his crotch, too, slipping your hand between his and the denim, giving him a hefty squeeze.

“Baby, wait. I have to take a shower”, despite his words, his hips bucked, chasing the warmth of your palm as you pressed it a bit more firmly against his erection. “I’m serious. I’m probably covered in all sorts of animal fluids”.

“You could be covered in my fluids, though”.

“God”, Minho dragged his hands over his face, pulling himself away from you entirely and walking towards the door, making you pout. You knew he was right, he surely needed his shower, but the ache that had steadily been building between your legs as soon as he stepped into the room was just too strong to ignore.

Before he disappeared into the hall, he turned to you again. “Wait for me right there, okay? Just like that. Won’t be long, promise”.

So you giggled, reaching for your phone as soon as he was out of your sight to keep yourself entertained while he was in the bathroom.

The sight of your boyfriend, all flushed from his hot shower, with droplets still travelling down his torso that got caught on the towel he had wrapped around his hips, was, quite honestly, mouth watering. As soon as he was standing at the end of the bed, with a smirk plastered on his pretty face, you just reached for the towel, letting it fall on the floor to find his already hard length.

“And I haven’t even touched you, baby”, you chuckled, licking your lips, looking up at him from where you were lying on the bed, still on your back, right where he left you. Even upside down, you still found Minho to be one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen, and you honestly felt incredibly happy you could be here with him right now.

“You didn’t need to”, he walked closer, placing a hand on your cheek as he looked down at you. “I got so fucking hard just thinking about you being out here while I was in the shower. Now, kitten, come a bit closer to the edge and open up. Hm?”

You just did as asked, letting your head fall over the edge of the bed as your boyfriend took a hold of his length and guided it to your mouth. You couldn’t help but moan as soon as he eased himself inside, just like it didn’t seem like he could hold back the groan that left his lips as soon as your lips wrapped around his cock.

“Mmm… Fuck”, with a deep inhale, Minho threw his head back, starting to rock his hips, fucking your mouth, and the sounds coming out of his mouth, coupled with the feel of him slowly easing into in and out of our throat had you pressing your thighs together.

Minho took his time with you from then on, teasing you, bringing you to the brink of insanity numerous times. He played and toyed with you however he pleased, getting you close to your high with his hands before he slowed down his motions to let it dwindle down, only to do it all over again with his mouth. He did this several times, for a while, until you were desperately begging to be fucked.

‘Hands and knees, kitten. Ass in the air, just like the queen you are. I’ll fuck you just how you want’, and how could you not comply when your body felt tingly all over? From Minho’s words to the way he held your hips as he plunged his cock into your aching heat, all combined had your senses on overdrive, all thoughts finally flying out the window as soon as he started to pound you to the bed, reducing you to a moaning, borderline pathetic mess.

The force of his thrusts had the bell around your neck tinkling with every harsh smack of his hips against your rear, barely even audible over the sound of your desperate pleas and his blissed grunts. His pace didn’t relent until you were shaking with your release, until he pushed you to the brink of overstimulation chasing his own, until the results of his high painted your back as a drawn out groan came from his lips.

The soaked washcloth on your back made your body jolt. ‘Shh, you scaredy cat. It’s okay’, Minho mumbled as he cleaned you up, offering words of encouragement while he helped you get out of your soiled outfit, removing each item one by one–taking special care with the tail plug to avoid any discomfort, wiping away any remnants of lube or cum off of your body.

As soon as you were completely nude and clean enough, you finally plopped on the bed with a satisfied sigh, feeling incredibly light and content. Minho pulled you into his arms, placing a kiss on your forehead as he hugged you tightly. “Mmm… That was so good, baby. Best girlfriend ever. My dearest kitten, I missed you so much”.

You chuckled, feeling your heart swell in your chest as you cuddled closer to him. “Missed you, too, baby”, you pressed a brief kiss on his chest before you rested your head over his heart, listening to its slightly accelerated pace. “How was your day? How was it with the big baby?”

So Minho started talking, recounting any and every detail he could remember of his work day. You could listen to him speak for hours, honestly. Especially at times like these, when his volume was this low, when his words came out slowly, when he looked this peaceful.

He asked about your day, too, of course. He always did. So you told him, only the details worth telling, not really feeling like thinking about your boring job right now. Minho knew that anyway, he’d always known you hardly ever felt like talking about it, so he never pressed for any extra details unless he got particularly intrigued by something–meaning, unless any possible office gossip was mildly interesting.

These days, though, there had been something on your mind, so you figured now was as good a time as any to talk about it. “Just out of curiosity…” You mumbled, playing with Minho’s fingers. “When is your rut starting?”

You knew about ruts. You’ve known since Minho’s very first rut when you were still teens, but he never really liked to talk about them. He always seemed to avoid the topic completely whenever you tried to ask him about it before. Most of the knowledge you had on the topic was given to you by Jisung or the other girls at the den, but you wanted to know about your boyfriend’s experience specifically.

“How do you feel about hot dogs for dinner?” Was all Minho replied, immediately untangling his limbs from yours and getting up from the bed.

You blinked a few times, confused at the sudden question, watching him put on the joggers he kept folded on his nightstand and leave the bedroom entirely. Was he… Was Minho ignoring your question? Why? It was a normal thing to ask, wasn’t it? You were his partner, you assumed you had to know these things.

So you stood up from the bed, making your way to the dresser to fish a fresh pair of panties from your bag to cover yourself, and one of Minho’s oversized t-shirts to pull it over your head. If Minho thought he was going to avoid the subject like he had done all these years he was certainly in for a surprise.

You found your boyfriend walking around his kitchen, getting pots from the oven and ingredients from the fridge. Leaning on the kitchen island, you crossed your arms over your chest, focusing your gaze on him.

“Do you want one or tw–”

“Why are you changing the subject?” You interrupted him, voice level, looking him right in the eyes. “I know you’ve never liked talking about your ruts, but now that I’m your girlfriend I figured I should be prepared, so I’d like to–”

“Prepared?” Minho was looking at you like you had three heads, like what you were saying made no sense. “You don’t need to be prepared for anything, kitten. Don’t worry about it”, he returned to his task, dismissing you entirely–or at least, you felt like he was dismissing you.

Walking his way, you got between him and the sink, where he was about to place a pot–to fill it with water, you presume. You saw Minho’s Adam’s apple bob, looking anywhere but your eyes.

“Minho. Look at me”.

He sighed, placing the pot next to you on the counter. Turning away from you, Minho brought his hands to his hair, ruffling it and tugging at it.

“Minho–”

“I’m not spending my rut with you”, Minho cut you off, and your eyes widened immediately. “So you don’t have to worry about that”.

You knew from Jisung and the girls that werewolves, especially alphas, preferred to have a companion to get through their rut, and also that, whenever they found themselves going into rut and they had a significant other, they craved said significant other the entire time, which was why his words stung. They pierced your heart, more than you ever thought they would.

“You don’t… Want to spend your rut with me?” You could feel your hands tremble, just as you felt your heart sink to your stomach.

“No”, Minho replied firmly.

You scoffed. The tremble in your hands seemed to increase, not only because you were hurt, but also because, all of a sudden, you were absolutely pissed. “So you don’t want me”, your voice was way too level, cold, scarily so.

“It’s not… It’s not like that”, Minho looked slightly alarmed, shaking his head, and with his eyes wide open. Still, he took a step closer to you, but you moved away.

“What is it, then?”

“I just… Don’t want to”, he swallowed, once again avoiding your eyes. “Can we–Maybe we can talk about this some other time, right now’s not–”

“I want to talk about this now, though. That’s why I asked”, you could feel the lump form in your throat the longer you looked at Minho, the longer he stayed quiet. It went on for a while, a thick, uncomfortable aura settled between you two. You’d never had such an unnerving exchange with Minho, so this was a completely unfamiliar territory.

Eventually, you just couldn’t take it anymore. “Fine, then. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s alright. I can’t stay here, though”, you walked past him and made your way towards the front door.

“Wait–!” was the last thing you heard Minho say before you slammed the door closed.

You were barefoot, still wearing only his shirt and your underwear. And as soon as you stepped out into the building’s corridor, you felt tears prick your eyes. The trembling in your hands seemed to have doubled, so you decided to go to the closest place you knew you’d be able to find comfort.

“It’s okay… It’s probably not what you’re thinking”, Jisung mumbled, caressing your hair, hugging you tightly against his chest while you cried.

“What else could it be, though?” You said between hiccups. Had it been anyone else, you would’ve probably felt embarrassed to be this emotional over something like this. But this was Jisung, your biggest confidant–second only to Minho in that regard.

Pulling yourself away from his chest, you rubbed the tears away with the back of your hand, feeling furious again. “Don’t you crave your partner when you’re in heat?”

“Yes, of course, but–”

“See?!”

“Listen to me”, Jisung held you by the shoulders, tightly, trying to ground you. “First of all, I’m an omega. The way I feel during my heat is different from the way he might feel during his rut. We’re instinctually different, yeah?”, you nodded, so he continued. “Second of all… Minho, he… He wasn’t born like this, remember? He’s a bit… Peculiar”.

“How so?”

“I can’t really explain it well, you know me… But he just… He’s really good at ignoring his instincts. So maybe… It’s something like that?” Jisung sighed, pulling you back into his chest. “I don’t know, babes. Minho’s a weird wolf”.

“He was a weird human, too”, you mumbled, rubbing your face on his top. “My weirdo…”

“I don’t doubt it”, Jisung chuckled as he kept caressing your hair, and honestly, it was helping you a lot. Even if you were still crying, at least you felt heard.

You both stayed in silence, until eventually Jisung fell back on the sofa with you in his arms, caressing your back or your hair, still trying to soothe you. You appreciated it. It wasn’t really in Jisung’s nature to care for people, but he often did, anyway. Or, at least, he tried his very best. He loved being on the receiving end of cuddles, but he also loved giving them, and he was great at it, too.

After a while, you pulled yourself from his chest, wiping your face with the back of your hand again. “You mind if I stay here tonight?”

“‘Course not. Minho wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I denied you shelter. Even when you’re asking for it because you’re mad at him”, Jisung chuckled, and it made you smile a bit.

You couldn’t help but pinch one of his adorably round cheeks. “You’re like the little brother I never had, you know?”

“I know”, he was positively beaming, and it warmed you up from the inside out. But then you thought about your boyfriend again, and you felt your lower lip wobble. Jisung looked at you, alarmed. You only saw him for a second, because you were burying your face in his chest again, crying again. He just held you tighter, sighing.

It was going to be a long night and you both knew it.

The gentle light filtering through the drapes was hitting your face, warming you up. You stirred awake, turning under the covers to lay on your other side. Even though your mind was still hazy, you still registered the presence in the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. You assumed it was Jisung, so you got your hand out of the covers, blindly trying to find him.

“Morning”, you mumbled, finally making contact with his warm upper arm, and you patted him a few times.

“Morning”.

It wasn’t Jisung’s voice that greeted you. It was your boyfriend’s.

Your eyes snapped open. Minho was wearing just some washed out vest top and his grey joggers–the ones that were already too old and thin to wear out, the ones that he just used around the house, and his hair was tousled. Had he just gotten out of bed?

“Here you go. Drink up”, he handed you a glass of water. As soon as you saw the vessel filled almost to the top with liquid you realised just how much your head was throbbing, and how parched your mouth felt. You must’ve cried way more last night than you’d realised.

Sitting up, you stretched your limbs, and a small squeak left your lips with the motion. You took the glass from him, dawning it in one go, all as he just looked at you.

You were both silent for a moment, a long moment of you just looking at the glass in your hand and him looking at you. You could feel his gaze on you the entire time, but you didn’t dare speak first. You honestly didn’t even know what to say.

“It’s not that I don’t want you”, Minho broke the silence first, and he turned his gaze to his lap, where he linked his fingers together, playing with his thumbs. “Please, don’t ever think I don’t want you. You’re the most important person in my life, in this entire world, you know that, right?”

You looked at him for a moment. You still felt hurt, but after your crying session with Jisung last night, and after hydrating some, you realised you might have jumped to conclusions. You knew, of course. You knew you were Minho’s favourite person in this world. Because he always showed that to you.

All these years, Minho had not only told you that, but he had also always shown you how important you were to him. Just as he was to you. So you sighed, placing the glass on the nightstand and shuffling closer to him. “I do know that”.

Taking his hand in yours, you caressed his knuckles with your thumb. “But you do understand where I’m coming from with what I asked you last night, right?”

Minho sighed. “I do…”

He squeezed your hand briefly, only to bring it to his mouth to place a small kiss on the back of it.

“I’m… Scared”, out of all the things Minho could’ve said, those weren’t exactly the words you were expecting to hear, and they really took you by surprise, especially when he said them so quietly, almost as if he was embarrassed by them.

“Scared of what?”

Minho finally looked at your face, cupping your cheek with his free hand, dragging his thumb over the dried tears on your skin. “Baby, when I’m going through my rut not wanting you is exactly the opposite of what actually happens. All these years, every single rut, every single one, all I ever wanted was you”.

You felt yourself flush. “You did?”

“Mm… I’ve always wanted you, but twice a year, for as long as we’ve been friends, it’s heightened tenfold. Why do you think I never wanted to talk to you about my ruts? Do you not remember how I couldn’t look at your face for a month after I got the first one? The thoughts that roam in my head when I’m going through it are just… Filthy”.

“Minho… I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but you already say and do filthy things when we have sex?”

Minho chuckled at that, shaking his head a bit. “I mean, it’s not just what goes through my head… It’s what happens when those thoughts cross my mind”, he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he continued talking. “I get so… Violent when I’m going through my rut… I… I’m really scared I’ll hurt you”.

Oh.

That was something you certainly hadn’t considered. But, Minho being violent for real didn’t seem to match him at all. He loved to pretend that he was mean and murderous, but, in reality, that wasn’t your Minho. “How… How violent?”

“I’ve broken beds before”, Minho shrugged. “And dressers. Doors… Many appliances… All by accident, but I did. Kitten, baby, you know I’m also an animal… I really don’t know how I’d react to your presence when I’m seriously feral. I… Don’t want to hurt you. I’d never be able to forgive myself if I did”.

He looked genuinely concerned, like he’d been hurting with this for a long time, and it made your heart feel heavy in your chest. So you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, nodding in understanding. That was when Minho finally leaned in closer, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead, then one on the tip of your nose, one on each cheek, and finally, one on your lips.

“I’m sorry I made you feel unwanted, baby. I should’ve… Communicated it better”, he mumbled the words on your cheek, placing a kiss on your skin again for good measure.

“You should’ve”, you mumbled back, finally looping your arms around his neck to pull him close, just as he hugged your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “But I’m sorry, too. You didn’t want to talk about it, and I pushed it”.

“I forgive you”, he pressed kisses on your neck, slow, tender kisses that had your heart fluttering in your chest and heat settling on your face.

“Me too…” You hugged him tighter, getting lost in his body heat and the feeling of his lips on your skin.

Minho shuffled around, getting under the duvet, and pulling you into his chest. “Let’s not go to bed without settling an argument ever again. Please?”

“Okay”, you mumbled against his chest, enjoying the smell of his fabric softener when you took a deep breath. “I’m sorry…”

“Me too”, he repeated, holding you a bit tighter, pressing a brief kiss to the top of your head.

After a maximum of ten seconds of silence, a couple of loud knocks made you jolt in Minho’s hold.

“You guys want pancakes?”

“Jisung! Were you eavesdropping?!” Minho shouted, making you laugh because of course Jisung was eavesdropping. It was Jisung.

“I won’t answer any accusatory questions without our Pack Mum here!”

You intercepted as you saw Minho was about to engage in possibly the pettiest discussion to ever happen in this flat. “Yes, Jisung! Yes, we want pancakes! Thank you, sweetie, you’re a great friend!”

The sound of Jisung’s footsteps got quieter the further down the hall he went, going towards the kitchen, you presumed. Just as you heard his shout of ‘of course I am!’

Minho scoffed, but he pulled you back into his chest. “You’re spoiling him rotten”.

“Technically, he’s yours to care for, Mr Left Hand of the Pack. I’m just the cool step-mum”, you chuckled, angling your head a bit to press kisses on his jaw. “Besides, don’t you want pancakes?”

“I do want pancakes”, Minho grumbled, rubbing his cheek on the top of your head, probably tangling your hair a bit in the process.

You both went silent after that, simply cuddling under the covers and sharing your warmth until Jisung called you to the kitchen for breakfast. You’d admit his pancakes were to die for, and after the rollercoaster of emotions you’d gone through the last handful of hours, you were grateful for the familiarity of a breakfast with Minho and Jisung. They always made you laugh with their antics, something that didn’t seem to change as the years went by–if anything, both of them just seemed to get funnier and weirder with age, and you loved to see it. You just loved them both with your whole heart.

With a stomach full of both sweet and savoury pancakes, with your boyfriend’s warm hand in yours, and a heart full of love, you just made your way back into Minho’s flat. The second you stepped into the threshold he just scooped you in his arms, making you giggle as he pressed kisses on your cheeks, taking you with him to the bathroom.

‘Need to get ready for work, want to shower with me?’ were the last coherent words coming out of Minho’s mouth before you found yourself drenched in lukewarm water, with your back against the cold tiles and his head between your legs, mumbling reassuring words against the skin of your inner thighs as he moved towards his destination.

‘Me not wanting you? Absurd. That’s absurd, kitten. I’ll show you just how much I want you’.

He might’ve been running late after that, but he still placed you on the kitchen counter once you were both dressed and squeaky clean, slotting himself between your legs and kissing you one last time. ‘Later, after work… Wanna take you to the park, to that ice-cream parlour you like. What do you think, kitten? Wanna go on a date with me?’ and, honestly, how could you refuse.

The girls of the pack had become good friends to you, which was quite refreshing. When it came to close friendships, you’d only ever had Minho and Jisung, which, even if you loved them to death, wasn’t the same as having friends that had gone through similar experiences in life–after all, the experience of being A Girl surrounded by supernatural creatures was a whole thing. Sure, you had one close female friend–your neighbour that usually took care of Sir Percival when you were gone–but even if you were comfortable when she was with you, there were things you just couldn’t talk about with her, so having these two girls in your life now was quite comforting.

Getting to sit on Chris’ sofa, with his girlfriend on one side, and Changbin’s girlfriend on the other while drinking a cup of relaxing tea was one of your favourite activities lately. Whenever you dropped by, you’d always try to make some time to hang out with them, and sometimes, like now, you liked to hear their opinions on certain things.

So, as soon as they were both available, and while you waited for Minho to get back from work, you seeked their advice.

The topic of discussion today was your boyfriend’s rut. Since Minho had always been very reserved when it came to giving you details about it, you honestly felt a bit lost, so you hoped the girls could help you understand the situation better. The conversation started after they swore they’d keep the details of what you talked about between you three, just like you always did whenever any of you needed some advice on a very private topic.

“Minho doesn’t really peg me as the violet type”, Chris’ girlfriend said as soon as you finished explaining the situation, looking thoughtful while her fingers tapped the mug in her hand.

“I agree”, Changbin’s girlfriend placed her empty mug on the coffee table, proceeding to turn to you and cross her legs on the sofa. “I’ve dealt with violent alphas before, and I don’t think Minho fits the criteria, to be honest…”

You grimaced a little at her words. You knew her story, how she had run away from an abusive pack with an equally abusive alpha, so you didn’t doubt her judgement, but it all only made you more confused. “Then? Why do you think he’d get violent during his ruts?”

She looked at you for a moment, pondering. After a few more moments, she finally spoke again. “Alphas… When they go through their ruts it’s hard for them to deal with their needs. Do you know if he gets violent when there’s another person involved?”

You shook your head. “As far as I’m aware, there’s never been another person involved”.

“Huh… Maybe that’s his problem”.

“Makes sense to me”, Chris’ girlfriend placed her mug on the coffee table and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the backrest, looking at the ceiling. “When Chris is going through his rut he’s so… Needy. In his own way, of course… I wonder how he dealt with it before we got together”.

As if on cue, the obnoxious beeps of the door’s keypad started to resonate in the flat. The door opened seconds later, followed by a tired groan and a thud–probably produced by Chris dropping his bag on the floor.

Chris came into the living room looking tired as ever, but still with a smile on his face. “Didn’t realise you were having a girl’s night. I would’ve gone straight to Changbin’s”.

As soon as he made it to the sofa he bent at the waist to peck his girlfriend’s lips, making her giggle a bit as she offered him a ‘welcome home’ and a ‘it’s alright, baby. It was an impromptu thing’.

“Actually, now that you’re here…” You said when Chris finally pulled himself away from his girl and started to take things out of his pockets to place them on the kitchen counter. “Can I ask you a question? A very personal one?”

“Sure”, Chris replied simply, focusing on the items in his hands.

“What’s it like when you’re going through your rut?”

Chris’ face snapped in your direction, looking at you for a second only to turn to his girlfriend right after as a blush started to settle on his cheeks. “Wow, that’s… That’s certainly a personal question…”

“God, you can’t just ask that”, Changbin’s girlfriend laughed next to you. “Let me rephrase what our dear kitten here is curious about… Being more specific, if you went through your rut, and you didn’t have someone to spend it with, how’d you feel?”

“I don’t even want to ask what you guys were talking about before I came here, God…” Chris rounded the kitchen counter, going straight for the sink and opening the tap to wash his hands. “Guess it depends”.

“On?” His girlfriend urged, watching him return from the kitchen after he wiped his hands on a rag.

Chris sat next to his girlfriend, on the armrest of the sofa. “Well… Before I met you, it was okay-ish if I had to spend it on my own. I mean, it still hurt like hell, and I’d be incredibly frustrated the entire time, but I managed just fine”.

“And after?” You asked, although based on what Chris just said, you had a hunch as to what his answer would be.

“If I recall correctly, I went into rut only once after you moved in”, even if he was answering your question, Chris had his full attention on his girl as he said it, but after taking her hand in his and giving it a squeeze he finally turned to look at you. “It was probably one of the worst ruts I’ve ever gone through in my life. It just… Hurt so bad. Everything hurt, and nothing I did made it better”.

“Baby, you never told me this”, Chris’ girlfriend placed her free hand on his thigh, pouting and giving him a squeeze, making him chuckle.

“It never came up”, Chris shrugged. “But, yeah… I think I almost broke the bathtub at some point because I was beyond frustrated… I think I could say I was borderline enraged. I honestly don’t know if I would’ve been able to stand another rut like that”.

Chris changed the topic after that. He stayed for a handful of minutes more, until he finally excused himself and made his way to the bathroom. As soon as he was gone, Changbin’s girlfriend placed a hand on your shoulder, whispering a ‘I think you’ve got your answer, then’.

And you also thought you did. After all, if Minho only ever wanted you during his ruts, the most logical conclusion to you was that the reason he got violent was because he simply couldn’t have you, and the rest seemed to agree.

The girls gave you their experience when it came to being with their partner’s while they went into their rut. They gave you pointers, advice, how to prep, all valuable information you were immensely glad to have. And after all that, you honestly didn’t feel as clueless anymore.

After that long weekend at Minho’s den, you never spoke about his rut again. You tried to bring up the topic a couple of times, but Minho still wasn’t ready to talk about it just yet, which you realised was something you simply had to accept. You couldn’t push him to tell you things when he didn’t feel comfortable doing so, and you honestly didn’t want to push him to talk about things that made him uncomfortable, so you offered one last ‘it’s okay, then. Whenever you feel like talking, I’ll be here. Hm?’ which he seemed to be immensely grateful for.

Minho still hadn’t asked you to move in with him again, but, after a couple of months, you realised he’d started to free up some space for you, or he’d add things to his flat for when you came over. All of a sudden, there were two bathrobes in his bathroom, two different sets of towels, all articles of clothing you’d forgotten over the weekend started to appear neatly folded inside a suspiciously empty drawer in his closet, to the point where sometimes you couldn’t find in your flat something you wanted to wear, only to find it that weekend in Minho’s closet or his dresser.

Which was why, at this point, whenever you went to visit you hardly ever took any extra baggage with you. Everything you could possibly ever need was already at his place, so sometimes, whenever you felt like it, you found yourself driving to his den to visit him, just like you were doing today.

You had the day off, so you just made sure Sir Percival had enough food, checked with your neighbour that she could check on him throughout the day, and you went on your way. You wanted to be there before Minho left for work, so you left very early in the morning to surprise him.

However, it seemed like the one that was in for a surprise was you.

As soon as the door of Minho’s flat closed behind you, you were almost winded by how fast everything happened.

Logically, you knew Minho was a supernatural being. He had enhanced senses, as well as enhanced abilities. You didn’t even see him coming, you just felt your back hit the door, the warmth of his body pressed flush against yours, and his panting in your ear.

“What… What are you doing here?” Minho rasped. His entire form was taut, he had his hands planted firmly against the door at either side of you, caging you in place. Immediately, you just knew something wasn’t quite right. How much warmer he felt against your body, the thin sheen of sweat covering his skin…

His rut.

Minho’s rut had started.

And you were here. Probably severely unprepared.

“I’m… I…” You gulped, suddenly feeling light-headed. The girls had told you you could be affected by his pheromones, but until now you hadn’t fully understood just how much. Your heart was racing, your hands trembled slightly at your sides, and heat was quickly pooling in the pit of your stomach.

Minho pressed his nose against your pulse point, inhaling deeply, and the sigh that came out of his lips after had you blushing immediately. “Answer me, kitten”.

“I just… Missed you, and…” You heard his fingers drag by your sides, producing an almost squeak-like sound with the movement because of how sweaty his palms were.

“Leave”, Minho all but choked on the word. Fuck, you wanted to touch him… You wanted him to touch you, and that need had you pressing your thighs together to try and ease some of the ache that was quickly building between your legs. “Shit, you smell so fucking good, kitten… So–” He moved closer to your neck–if that was even possible–and for a moment you thought he was going to kiss you there, but then he was shaking his head, pulling back just the tiniest bit. “Leave now. I won’t… Be able to stay coherent and hold myself back for much longer”.

You licked your lips, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply. “No”.

“Kitten–”

“I won’t leave”, you said firmly.

“Baby… Please–”

“I trust you, Minho”, you turned your head slightly, enough so you were almost whispering in his ear. “I trust you. I want you. Take me–”

In an instant, his mouth was on yours and his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight against his body as your arms looped around his neck. Your whole body seemed to be alight, and the growl that resonated from deep inside of him as soon as his lips were on yours completely drowned your own moan of delight. With a hand holding the back of your head Minho angled you however he pleased, pushing his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you as if he were a starved man, as if the moment he stopped you’d vanish.

“You fucking…”

Minho detached himself from you enough to pull your shirt over your head.

“Come in here…”

Shoving his hands down your joggers, he dropped to his knees and pushed them down along with your underwear.

“Smelling like…”

Yanking your shoes off and finally pulling your bottoms fully off of you.

“A proper queen in heat…”

With a tight hold on your hips, he flipped you around, the motion eliciting a moan from your lips.

“Driving me fucking insane…”

He pulled your hips back, and you pressed your chest to the door, arching your back to give him better access once his hands found your buttcheeks, gripping you tightly and spreading you open. Cold air hit your centre, but that rush of cold was quickly replaced by the warmth of Minho’s tongue licking a fat stripe from your clit all the way up to your ass, making him groan in absolute ecstasy, making you groan in absolute ecstasy.

“My sweet, sweet kitten. All drenched and ready for me, huh?”

You desperately nodded, moaning as soon as his tongue was back on your heat, deliciously licking your clit as his hold on your buttocks tightened ever so slightly. “Just for you–”

“Fuck…” In a second, Minho was back on his feet, pressing his chest to your back, bringing his hands to your front to immediately dip two fingers into your dripping hole, just as he pressed two fingers on your clit with the other, making you tremble in his hold. “Gotta stretch you out, hm? Get you ready for your alpha, yeah?”

“Ye–yeah”, you could barely recognise the sound of your own voice, all your senses were focused on Minho, Minho, Minho, and his fingers inside of you, and his rumbling chest against your back, and his fingers on your clit, and the sound of his voice so incredibly low next to your ear.

Minho was working you up increasingly fast. Your high was approaching at an alarming pace, he shoved another finger into you, pushing them in and out, and the squelching sound was loud enough for you to hear among his rumble and his heavy breathing. You could feel him, hard, leaking fluids all over your ass as he kept working you up, as he kept rubbing your clit faster, thrusting his fingers harder, making your legs tremble.

“Gonna stuff you so full, fuck… I want you so, so bad…” As he eased his fourth finger into you, all you could do was pathetically whine, getting lost in the feel of him in you, around you, and all you wanted was for him to shove his monster cock inside of you, uncaring if he ripped you in half in the process.

“Want you, baby… Need you”, you panted, rolling your hips to stimulate his length where it squished between your bodies.

Minho just pressed himself further against you, snarling in that utterly animalistic fashion a wolf would to stop your movements. He shook his head, speeding his fingers on your clit, eliciting a breathy moan from your lips. “Need to stretch you first, kitten. Need it, hm?”

You just whined in response, pressing your cheek against the cool door, finally submitting completely to your boyfriend. For a brief moment you were reminded of how physically different Minho was to you. He was able to produce sounds no human could, sounds you hardly ever heard from him when he was in his human form, and, coupled with his digits working you up, it was, quite honestly, getting you so incredibly close to your release you started to feel tears prick your eyes.

“Minho, baby–”

Minho’s fingers moved impossibly faster as soon as his name left your lips, and you could feel your essence start to drip between your legs. “Come on, kitten. Give it to me, yeah? Come for me, my love”.

With a few more flicks of his fingers on your already sensitive nub, you finally tipped over the edge, just as a mix of swear words and your boyfriend’s name and many pet names escaped your mouth. Blinding-hot pleasure raked your entire body, making you shake in Minho’s hold.

“That’s it, baby. Good, good kitten. God, you’re just a perfect little thing, aren’t you?”

You could hardly hear Minho over the ringing in your ears. You felt your legs jolt as he kept stimulating your clit, and, very quickly, you realised he had no plans to stop the movement of his hands.

“Min–Minho–”

“Shh, it’s okay. I know you can give me another. Please, please give me another, hm? Need it…”

“Oh, fuck–Minho, fuck–”

His pace didn’t relent until you were coming again, until tears collected in your lower lash line only to finally fall and paint roads on your cheeks. That consecutive high turned your limbs into jelly, it made you slump completely in your boyfriend’s hold once he finally removed his fingers from your core.

“So good, baby. You did well, kitten. So well for me…” He mumbled the words against your hair, letting you catch your breath just for a moment, just until you were able to stand on your feet unaided.

In a swift movement, he turned you around and scooped you into his arms, making you yelp when he pressed you hard against the door. Your legs wrapped around his waist for stability, just as your arms looped around his neck to keep yourself secure–not like Minho seemed to have any plans to let you fall, considering how hard he was holding onto you, how he was practically squishing you against the door as he ravished your mouth.

“Minho… Minho, baby, want you inside”, you whimpered as soon as his lips attached to your neck, sucking harshly on your skin to leave love bites all over. You had just had two earth-shattering orgasms, but you needed more. The desperation you felt to have your boyfriend’s cock inside of you was clinging to you like never before, and as soon as the words left your mouth, you felt his tip at your entrance, drenching you in his slick, mixing it with your own juices.

“Inside, huh? Here? Right here, kitten?” He eased fully into you in one swift motion, deliciously filling you up to your limits, making you throw your head back against the door and moan a string of noises that were akin to his name. “Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck–”

Minho immediately started to ram into you. No build up, just straight up pounding you to his flat’s door as if he’d die otherwise, making it rattle with each thrust. Had you not been so incredibly cock-drunk, you would’ve probably felt slightly embarrassed at the possibility of anyone walking by the corridor and hearing you, but instead, that brief thought only made you clench around your boyfriend’s length, aroused at the idea that everyone would know how good he was making you feel, that everyone knew just who you belonged to.

“So fucking good, shit. Almost feels… As if this cunt… Was made for me”.

You swallowed, feeling yourself clench harder around his length, feeling your tits rub against his chest and your clit against his pubic bone every time he moved. “It was–”

“Yeah, it fucking was”, he was fucking you impossibly harder now, and you were already past the speaking point, your mouth only able to produce unintelligible noises of pleasure as he kept ramming his cock into that sweet spot inside your walls, as he kept stretching you time and time again.

After a while, you started to feel the sting between your legs, and you vaguely registered the whimper that came out of your mouth.

Minho started to lick your cheeks, an oddly tender gesture compared to the way he was borderline rearranging your insides with his supernatural cock. “Shh… Kitten, it’s okay. You’ll take it just fine. I just know it. I’m gonna fill you to the brim, mark your delicious cunt as mine, hm?”

You just nodded in response, unable to say anything else, whimpering and whining and moaning as you quickly felt another release edge close.

Minho seemed absolutely determined to get you to come on his cock, his unrelenting pace seemingly unchanging despite the steady swelling of his knot at the base of his length. It kept catching at your entrance with each thrust, giving you a sensation of pleasurable pain quite like nothing you’d ever felt before.

“C’mon, baby… My precious queen in heat, aren’t you gonna come for your alpha again? Milk my cock so I can stuff you full of my pups?”

With a few more thrusts, you felt heat rushing all throughout your body, dragging an incomparable feeling of ecstasy from your centre to every single one of your limbs, just as Minho’s knot lodged deep inside of you and his lips found yours. The kiss was messy, all uncoordinated movements and bumps of noses as his warmth started to fill you up.

The blissed out noises coming out of his mouth had you holding him even tighter, making him hold you tighter in response. You knew Minho produced more fluids than a human male, but you’d never quite felt this amount coming out of him, it seemed like he was coming for at least a couple of minutes, and his kisses eventually became softer, more tender with every second that passed, almost as if that desperation he had when you came into his flat was finally diminishing.

You felt so impossibly full. Full of his cock, full of his cum, full of his love… Once he stopped coming Minho finally separated his lips from yours, slowly opening his eyes to look at your face. He was panting a bit, but the blinding, satisfied smile that made its way to his lips had your heart almost bursting in your chest.

“Holy… Fuck…” He panted, making you giggle a bit just as you tried to catch your breath as well.

“I agree”, was all you said, pressing a lingering kiss on each of his cheeks.

“Hold on…”

Minho made sure his hold on you was secure before he pulled you both away from the door a bit, enough to find your discarded clothes and push them towards the door with his foot. Slowly, and with admittedly a bit of discomfort, he lowered himself to sit on your clothes and rest his back against the door. You whimpered a bit once he fully lowered your ass to sit on your clothes as well, with your legs slightly bent at either side of him, and your knees against the door, the tug of his knot was a bit sharper than when he was moving before, but it seemed to ease as soon as you were finally settled.

“I’m sorry, baby. This is a horrible position to get tied in”, he caressed your lower back, keeping you as flush to him as he could without having his knot pull on your entrance. You just hummed in response, closing your eyes as you inhaled deeply.

You both were silent for a while, just holding onto each other, catching your breaths. Until you finally had regained enough of your strength to speak.

“Minho, that was…”

“A lot–”

“Hot as fuck”, you spoke at the same time, making you both chuckle. “Was that you being violent? ‘Cause… Damn…”

Minho laughed, a breathy laugh just as he leaned his head back against the door, shaking it from side to side in disbelief. “No, fuck. I was violent when you came in. I was close to breaking the bed in half… Then the smell of your scent hit me and I lost my mind”.

“You held back more than I imagined, I’d admit”, you chuckled, pushing his fringe off of his sweaty forehead.

“I don’t even know how I did it, to be honest”, Minho pecked your lips, and you hummed in content. “Now that I’ve finally had you like this… I see it so clearly. I’ve needed you so bad this entire time. Years, kitten! It’s been years of pure torture…”

You gave him an apologetic smile. “I figured as much”.

Minho blinked. “How come?”

“I did some digging”, you shrugged. “And after I just… Connected the dots. But you wouldn’t want to talk about it so I didn’t press you further”.

Minho just scoffed at that. “Alright, smarty pants”.

You squeezed his shoulders in protest. “Hey! Don’t call me smarty pants when I’m stuffed full of your cum while your supernatural cock keeps it all trapped in!”

Minho just laughed at your comment, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest at the sight of his eyes almost disappearing when he smiled.

“Which, by the way, is it always this much? I feel so… Full. Can’t believe it’s all in”.

“Yup”, Minho brought a hand to your cheek, stroking shapes with his thumb. “It’ll diminish eventually, but the first couple of days is a lot. But then again, your cunt was made for me, so of course it can fit it all in”.

You felt heat spread on your face at his words, and suddenly you felt a bit shy under his sparkly eyes. The ache in your legs was lessening a bit, and you realised his knot was starting to deflate, and his seed started to pour out. “Oh, crap. My joggers…”

Minho snorted at that. “Your joggers were ruined the second you stepped into this flat, baby. Don’t worry about them now”.

When your boyfriend’s length finally slipped out of you, he took you in his arms again and carried you to his bedroom, dropping you on his bed for you to rest while he got you some water.

“How many days do your ruts usually last?” You asked Minho once he was back, downing in record time the glass of water he’d handed you.

“Four to five days”, Minho huffed as he dropped himself on his bed next to you. “I’ll warn you now, just based on how I’m feeling right now, I’m confident it’ll be at least five”.

“At least?” Your eyes widened, and Minho chuckled at your expression.

“Didn’t you want to spend my rut with me? Fuck around and find out, babe”.

You scoffed in disbelief, ignoring the urge you suddenly had to rub in his face how you were right, and that you should’ve talked about this earlier. But, instead, you just rolled on top of your boyfriend, planting your lips on his. “Well… Guess I’ll just have to let my alpha take care of me for those five days. Hm?”

Minho licked his lips, and a blush settled on his cheeks. “Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll make sure to take good care of you”. With how deeply he was kissing you, there was just no room for doubt, he certainly was going to take good care of you, and you were absolutely ready for it.

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Minho’s WereRoomies Instalments: Camping With Wolves · Dog Unleashed · Are You There, Wolf?

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unclewaynemunson · 2 years ago

Text

Tadaaaa here is the sequel to this post, which came from an ask that got me in a chokehold for days now so kudos to the lovely anon who sent that prompt to me! You can also read the whole thing on ao3 :)

As soon as Eddie got into the passenger seat of his Wayne's truck, he saw the whole world go blurry. He tried to blink away his tears, but it was no use – nothing ever escaped his uncle's notice anyway.

'Wanna tell me what's wrong, boy?' he asked while he started the car.

Eddie grimaced. 'You know how they say you should never meet your heroes?'

'Hm?'

'Well, I met mine. On the fucking train. Just yet.'

Wayne shot him an incredulous glance.

'What was the Black Sabbath guy doin' on a train?'

'What? No, it wasn't... No.'

'The Hobbits guy?'

'Jesus Christ, Wayne, Tolkien died like fifteen years ago, keep up.'

'You want me to keep guessin' or you gonna tell me?'

Eddie rolled his eyes.

'Yeah, no, you wouldn't guess it right anyway. It's this poet.'

'Don't think I ever heard you talk 'bout poetry before,' Wayne remarked.

And that was exactly the thing. Ronan Right had been something... private. Something between Eddie and the faceless blob in his mind that embodied Right – and maybe Jeff. Okay, and Jeff's mom. But it wasn't someone he'd talk people's ears off about on any occasion he got, like he did with plenty of other musicians or writers that he'd get all obsessive about.

Until Steve, that was. Steve, who had been casually listening to his music. Steve, who had recognized the book in his hands and effortlessly opened the floodgates of his obsession. Steve, who had said the most beautiful things about Corroded Coffin without even knowing who Eddie was. Steve, who had talked with him about their shared passions for hours. Steve, who he now somehow had to merge with Right in his mind.

Steve, who seemed so perfect that it made all of Eddie's alarm bells go off at the loudest possible volume. Because this couldn't be real. This was something straight from a disgustingly sweet romcom scenario, and if there was anything Eddie could be certain about, it was that his life was no romcom.

So during the short walk from the station to Wayne's car, Eddie's head had already come up with a dozen scenarios that were completely spiraling out of control – even though they'd all make for great songs, no doubt about that. Steve would die some kind of tragic death on his way to their first date. Steve was secretly addicted to crack. Steve was a stalkerish fan who had lied to him about being Ronan Right to get close to him. Steve would cheat on him on their wedding day.

The list of possibilities was endless and terrifying – while the list of possibilities for this having a happy ending, on the other hand, was exceptionally short.

'Was it that bad?' asked Wayne while they headed out of the city.

Usually, Eddie enjoyed amping up his dramatics to a maximum around Wayne, providing the much-needed balance to his uncle's calm and steady demeanor. But right now, Eddie felt himself deflate in his seat. He couldn't bring himself to make a show out of it.

'No,' he said, quietly. 'He was perfect.'

And Wayne must've heard it in his voice, must've picked up right away that this wasn't Eddie being dramatic, that something serious was going on here, because he gave him this look that was cutting way too deep into his heart.

'Nobody can be that perfect, you know,' Eddie continued. 'It's impossible. And he – he gave me his number. And I just know that if I call it, and we get to know each other better, I'll get crushingly disappointed sooner rather than later. Because something has to be, like, disturbingly wrong with this guy.'

Anyone else than Wayne would probably tell Eddie that he was being ridiculous, that he should get over himself and call Steve; that he should allow himself to let good things happen to him or some shit. But Wayne wasn't just anyone. Wayne was the one person who knew exactly what Eddie meant. The one person who had seen from up-close the shitshow that Eddie's life had been, who had retained a front row seat through all of it. And he had had his own fair share of misery himself, Eddie knew that much. He was too old and had gotten punched down too many times to still hold naive illusions of the possibility of good things.

So he didn't give him some bullshit advice. He merely patted Eddie's knee and turned up the radio.

---

Ever since Eddie had left Hawkins, it had become a habit of him to stay with Wayne for a couple of weeks every now and then. For all his desires to get the hell out of that town when he was younger, he still spent way too much time at his uncle's trailer. But it wasn't Hawkins that he came back for, it was uncle Wayne.

It was home. And it helped him breathe whenever the city got too intense. Helped him get detached from everything that distracted him from the shit that actually mattered. Helped him get his head right when Chicago was threatening to make him lose it.

Time seemed to move differently in Hawkins than in the city. Slower. More naturally, too, somehow. Maybe it was because of the lack of nightlife and flashing neon signs when the world was supposed to be wrapped in darkness. The fact that he could still see the stars when he stepped out of the trailer at nighttime. Maybe it was the quiet, which allowed him to actually hear himself think. Or maybe it was the predictability of it all: Wayne waking him up with a cup of coffee in the morning, the two of them sharing cigarettes on the porch, Eddie helping Wayne with some chores and then trying to write new songs until well into the night, when the world was his and his alone.

He kept reading Right almost religiously, but it was different, now. Now that he could hear Steve's voice say those words, now that he could envision the way in which the sun shone on his hair through the dirty train window and the shape of his hands clutching a walkman that had Eddie's music in it. It was all different.

After a week, Eddie had a whole album worth of songs about the deception of things that seemed perfect. He hadn't been able to write even one song about things ending well, about things working out. That wasn't his life. Things never worked out. Why would they, for a boy born in a household where the trifecta of poverty, addiction and violence was all he had ever known? In the five albums he had produced so far, he'd never experienced a lack of demons to write about.

So no, he wouldn't be calling Steve, even though he had read the number that was written down on the sleeve of his own album so often that it'd probably be impossible to ever erase it from his mind again. He'd protect himself, this time. He'd cherish the hours he got to spend with Ronan Right, the memories that were already starting to feel like a fever dream, and not let his heart break any further. Not this time. Not again.

---

'Got mail for ya.'

An envelope landed in Eddie's lap.

'What's this?'

'I dunno, 's your mail,' Wayne answered.

Eddie didn't recognize the handwriting and the Indianapolis post stamp didn't give him much of a clue either. It didn't make sense that someone would send him a letter at his uncle's place.

He frowned, roughly tore open the envelope and pulled a single sheet of paper out of it. It was neither directed at nor signed by anyone, but that wasn't necessary for Eddie to know who sent it.

'What is it, boy?' Wayne asked, a worried edge to his voice upon hearing the choked sob that freed itself from Eddie's throat.

Eddie knew that the words were only meant for him. But he and Wayne were a unit, always had been, ever since Eddie moved into Forest Hills. So he wordlessly handed the paper to his uncle, roughly wiping the tears from his eyes.

Wayne assessed the text with a wrinkled forehead, holding the paper at an arm's-length in order to read it.

'That from the boy you met on the train?'

Eddie nodded.

When his uncle looked up from the letter, Eddie caught an almost unfamiliar look in his eyes. It was soft, hopeful. Optimistic.

'You know I ain't any good with words, like you, or this – this poet,' Wayne said. 'But this...' He pressed the letter back into Eddie's hand. 'This looks like he knows you, Ed. Like he sees you. For all that you are.'

He didn't tell Eddie what to do; that wasn't his style, never had been. But what he did say kept bouncing through Eddie's head unceasingly, making him unable to sleep, unable to write, unable to think about anything else.

---

Eddie desperately wanted to say something meaningful when Steve picked up the phone. He wanted to thank him for reaching out, to apologize for being too much of a coward to call earlier – but what came out of his mouth instead was, 'How did you know where to find me?'

'Eddie, is that you?' It sounded like Steve didn't quite believe it.

'Yeah – yeah, it's me,' was the only thing he managed to get out of his mouth.

'Look, I'm sorry if I overstepped,' Steve told him. 'I just – I couldn't get you out of my head and it all felt so right, you know, like fate or some shit, so I just had to... I needed to try. And I knew your name, and that you were staying with your uncle, so I got help from some friends and they managed to find your uncle's address.'

And as if Eddie hadn't been enough of an emotional wreck over the past week, his vision got blurry with tears yet again.

'Sorry, was it – did I go too far?' Steve sounded nervous.

Eddie could perfectly envision the way he would be frowning and anxiously running a hand through his hair; as if they had already shared a whole lifetime of getting to know all about each other's mannerisms instead of a few stolen hours on a train.

He hated the idea of Steve thinking he had done something wrong when all he ever did was so fucking right, so he determinedly shook his head, then realized Steve wouldn't be able to see that, and started scraping for words.

'No, Steve, you... You're perfect. And that scared the shit out of me, because so far, my life hasn't really done perfect. Most of our songs, they're – well – creative retellings of my own shit.' Now that he started talking, the words actually came a lot easier. 'They're all real, at the core, when you peel away the layers of, like, monster slaying and fantasy imagery. Like, everything underneath all that, it's all... me. Damage, betrayal, fear, violence – all that shit is true. Life hasn't been kind to me, Steve. And I was convinced that you'd only become an addition to that long list of crap, because you seemed way too perfect. I never thought I could have something good. And you're good, Steve, you're so fucking good. So I couldn't believe it.'

A long silence ensued at the other side of the line. Then, a sigh.

Then, 'Eddie,' in the softest voice possible, like his name was something breakable. Eddie didn't remember ever having heard his name said like that.

'I think that was exactly what I heard in your songs. Why I kept listening to them. Why they inspired me so much.'

Eddie tried to swallow away the lump in his throat, suffocated by the emotions bubbling up inside of him.

'I wish I could hold you, right now.'

Eddie's breath caught. He knew exactly what he needed to do: he needed to stop running. He needed to trust that Steve could be right, for him. That Steve could be something good.

'I mean, you could come over to Hawkins and do just that, you know,' he suggested.

'D'you want me to?'

He nodded, again forgetting that Steve couldn't see him.

'Yeah, I'd like that. Probably still got half that cookie somewhere in my pocket, y'know. Maybe we could share it.'

Credit where credit is due: the line “He sees you, for all that you are” isn't mine, it's one of my favorite quotes from Schitt's Creek and I really wanted Wayne to say that to Eddie about Steve, so here we have it <3

@ My beloved 🥐 anon: I hope you like this ending, and that I came close enough to your suggestion to have Steve make Eddie a character in his next poem <3

Taglist: @kathorakiryu @goodolefashionedloverboi @undreaming-rambles @fangirlycupcake @ghouligans-central @henderdads @dolphincliffs @anglhrts @ajamlessbaby @yearningagain @vampireinthesun @xxbottlecapx @kissaphobic-kas @mad-h-w @booksandsience @obsessivlyme @ppunkpuppyy @barnes-bestgirl @capital-p-platonic @eddiemunsonmeltdowns @callme-keys

#tumblr didn't wanna format the poem right so i hope it's not too annoying i ended up inserting it as an image #also i'm v nervous about this one bc i can't write poetry yet here i am pretending like i can #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #fruity ficlet

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wilcze-kudly · 2 months ago

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Suyin wasn't "coerced" to commit a crime, neither did she want to take herself out of the situation. She wanted to get her friends out of paying for their crimes because she's spoiled and entitled.

She didn't "have" to travel the world, she was sent to family members to take her away from a criminal and endangering environment, and she decided to escape because she's too much of a pick me girl to stay with the so called family "that didn't show her affection". To be honest, you speak of her as some kind of adult avatar-styled Rapunzel, instead of a teenager who deserved to be reprimanded.

She did turn her life around, and kudos to the creators for showing that. No one can say that her story and background is boring by any chance.

She, however, is not the most likeable character out there to a big part of the fandom, but I seriously doubt someone is taking it as seriously as you seem to do. Just chill.

Istg this happens almost everytime I post something mildly touching on the fact that Suyin deserves compassion too. Though you may be the same anon who blew up my inbox a while back so it might just be you.

I've always found the disdain we have for "troubled teens" upsetting because usually, when a teenager "acts out", there's more of a reason behind it that just "ooh they're spoilt or entitled".

[Trigger warning for self harm and suicidal ideation mentions]

Like, I was a very difficult teen back in the day. I argued with my parents, even got into physical altercations, skipped school, ran away from home at night. I was also going through a severe depression, dealing with a shitton of childhood trauma, cutting on the regular and making multiple attempts on my life. Hell, if my parents had brushed me off as "a kid who needs to be disciplined" I probably would've killed myself at 14. It doesn't excuse me for punching my dad in the stomach when he was just trying to stop me from running away into the night but it doesn't mean I didn't deserve help.

[End of Trigger Warning]

These two things can be correct at the same time. Suyin can have done a shitty thing that deserves reprimand and that she needs help that she seemingly had to find on her own. But like, guess which of these two is almost exclusively focused on.

And I mean, it's totally not like the Avatar fandom has a habit of expressing extreme hate towards young girls (especially young girls of colour) making sub optimal choices or just beind "annoying". I've just never seen that before.

Suyin grew up with Toph, who Lin herself has described like this:

Suyin : No, no. My children are a blessing. Lin: Yeah, mom used to say that too, but she never meant it.

Which btw, still an incredibly hillarious thing to say in front of Suyin's children: "Hi kids I'm your aunt Lin and your mother is lying about loving you"

While Suyin has, as a child, expressed doubt that Toph would even care that she's skipping school. And as an adult, she has described her childhood with Lin as "competing for their mother's affection" and still has doubts whether or not her mother is happy with how either of them turned out.

Hell, even though Su and Toph have been said to have made up, Toph still maintains a heavy layer of distance between them, seemingly dissappearing for years at a time!

It's honestly sad how Suyin hugs Toph and puts up statues of her everywhere in Zaofu and yet Toph still just fucked off to the swamp when Opal was probably less then ten and did not contact them.

I mean, sounds like there's not a lot of motherly affection going on there, dude. Idk what to tell ya. We know there were no fathers around either.

And Lin was also a victim of this environment, so I don't really want this to come off as me blaming her for the way she acted towards Su. But Lin is hardly what I would call affectionate.

So of course Suyin would put so much stock in her relationships outside the house. And her friends happened to be fucking criminals fucking hell. And of course Lin, being a kid too did not know how to approach this situation properly, so she inadvertently just pushed Suyin closer to them by insulting them and making her feel defensive.

Because that's what all fucking teens do. The internalise things, they rely on their peers to form their perception of things and they want to be independent. So when someone, especially someone who isn't a parent tries to control them, guess how they'll react? They dig their heels in. Especially a teen like Suyin who has virtually no reason to listen to her older sister other than a vague "I know better than you" type of vibe which really pisses teens off. That's like the time when talking down to them is the worst thing to do.

And fuck off with saying getting arrested and screamed at by your sister in the middle of the road isn't a stressful situation that you wolud wanna get out of. Lin punched a car so hard it dented! (Especially that Lin has already been confirmed to use her status as a police officer against people she has a vendetta against, like when SHE TRIED TO THROW PEMA IN JAIL FOR STEALING HER MANS like how tf did we brush over that)

What I always find interesting in this scene is the front that Su puts on in front of Lin, which slips up a few times, particularly when Lin can't see her expression. Because Suyin is, of course being a fucking brat and taunting Lin, but you can clearly see that she's stressed out.

Suyin also describing the reason she helped her friends as a getaway driver is something I find interesting:

Suyin: I didn't steal anything. I just drove the car. I owed my friends a favor. It's not a big deal.

Of course she's scared and minimising her involvement but the usage of "owing her friends" could very easily imply her not exactly being too hyped about this, as well as her insistence on not stealing anything.

Because the thing about Suyin is that, especially in the flashbacks, we see her only in Lin's PoV. We don't see her relationship with her friends, what led up to the robbery, anything. Which makes sense, because the flashbacks are supposed to be Lin's. But that means we're viewing Su with the inherent bias of Lin, who clearly has an agenda against Su.

Lin clearly blames Suyin for Toph leaving policework, despite us later seeing how burnt out and cynical Toph was about being a cop. Its more likely that Su's arrest was a wake-up call for Toph, but she left due to the buildup of stress and disillusionment and Lin, who has been idolising her mother and her mother's career blamed it on Suyin in her head.

Hell, even they made up, Lin still immediately pivots to accusing Suyin of being involved in the Red Lotus' attack. Despite the attack placing Suyin's life, the lives of her sons and the lives of her guards at risk and Suyin going out of her way to thwart it.

And Suyin's life is just a fucking mess after this point like: betrayal by close friend, daughter kidnapped by terrorists, anarchy in the kingdom, leaders of 2 foreign governments trying to pressure her into subjugating the people in the name of a monarch she doesn't support, betrayal part 2; child boogaloo, the country she lives in being declared a dictatorship, city under literal siege, threat of attack in 24 hours, the fucking Avatar doing fuck all to help, a desperate attempt at assassinating the leader, getting caught and placed in questionably humane restraints, having to watch her daughter be forced to flee, PUBKIC HUMILIATION, the arrest of her non combative son and husbandd, INHUMANE JAIL CELL...

Do I need to go on? Like the moment the Krew came to her gouse her life just started to fucking fall apart its actually kinda hillarious.

And calling Suyin a "pick me" is just... unfounded? Who's she trying to get picked by? Her mom who doesn't love her? Girlie just wanted a family she literally said so in the show, put your listening ears on, babes.

I understand that Suyin isn't the most likeable character to people. I can understand why they dislike her. She can be annoying, hypocritical, rash, the poor structuring of the episodes around her and Lin makes it so she gets unearned favour from the writers etc. People who like Lin and Kuvira, two extremely popular characters in the fandom have an easy villain in their faves' lives if they just tweak Suyin a bit.

But that doesn't mean I'm obligated to dislike her too or that I'm not allowed to post about her in a way that doesn't allign with the fandom's narrative of her. You're not obligated to read it, hun, you can block the #pro suyin beifong tag if it makes you that upset to see me

I want to appreciate parts of Suyin which aren't highlighted by the fandom and I'm allowed to do that. Just because it doesn't fit with your clearly overtly negative opion of the character well, tough luck. And hey, I gladly take the opportunity to talk about Suyin, but I've also made a ridiculous amount of posts around har and have probably addressed almost every single fandom complaint of her at some point so I'm starting to get a little tired of repeating myself lol.

And I'll be the first to admit, my own teenage years probably heavily affect how compassionate I am towards Suyin, particularly in her younger years. But I know how much people hate "troubled teens", how little compassion thet are given.

The narrative that if a misbehaving teenager just gets deisciplined and reprimanded enough they'll stop being "spoilt and entitled" or acting out is wrong and harmful. It hurts tons of teenagers by not getting them the help they need and it would've fucking killed me.

Also hun, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I tend to use hyperbole a lot. I'm a dramatic bitch. Like did you also think I was serious when I said I'd shoot myself if I saw another ad for Amazon's shit lotr wannabe show?

Tbh everytime I get an ask like this I vaguely consider doubling down and commiting to the bit of being the fandom's "Lin Beifong hater". Though I feel like a lot of people wouldn't realise its a bit and think I actually hate her for real lol.

#unscripted quill traumadump yay 🥳🥳🥳#avatar fandom when a teenage girl with skin thay is not white as snow does something imperfect: and I took that personally #suyin beifong #pro suyin beifong #lin beifong #toph #toph beifong #anti lin beifong #<joke tag #avatar #legend of korra #tlok #the legend of korra #avatar the legend of korra #atlok #lok

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bluestjayy · 10 days ago

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fck stop begging for comments on here all the damn time. i did like u as a writer but its getting so pathetic and annoying now jus begging constantly. Ur writing isn't that good for getting tonnes of comments anyway half the time Ur dragging plots and characters r so uninteresting probs coz Ur on here begging instead of writing properly. every update feels rushed lately it shows u don't even care anymore. just stop begging and focus on updating instead that's all pppl want

Hey anon, I normally don't respond to rude asks like these because I think what you want is the attention.

I especially don't usually respond to asks that have, in any way, anything to do with begging or demanding I update my fics (and I have seen an uptick in those in recent months) but I'm gonna respond to this one, and by proxy, all the others currently sitting unread in my inbox, and any future asks of this nature that may come my way.

Buckle in, this is a long one.

First, I'm going to assume by 'begging for comments' you mean the few posts I have been reblogging over the past couple of days that encourage readers on AO3 to engage with authors by leaving positive and thoughtful comments, and discouraging them from making unreasonable and impersonal demands. If this is the case then I would like to clarify that I am not 'begging for comments', rather I am supporting a community of writers like myself who are actual human beings who take several hours, days, even weeks, out of our very real lives in order to make something and share it with the world and for some reason are beginning to see a trend of entitlement slowly growing across our comment sections. A trend we wish to nip in the bud because, as I previously pointed out, fanfiction authors are real life human beings, taking time out of their days to make something, not machines on a factory line that churn out content at the behest of someone's demands. We want our fandoms and communities to be safe, supportive spaces where we can have fun. We don't want them to become workloads that begin to feel like full time jobs.

Secondly, to say my writing isn't all that good but in the same message tell me to update? Wild my guy. Truly. But let's keep breaking down AO3 comments/kudos/general feedback (such as this delightful ask you sent my way, I guess hoping it would make me want to update??) from readers and how this can affect an authors updates, this time using one of my favourite metaphors for this type of thing and see if it helps:

AO3 is a potluck. It's a backyard party. There is a veritable buffet at this party. My fic is the cake I baked myself to bring for all my friends to eat. One of my other friends brought potato salad. Another friend brought the punch. Everyone who is at this fun get-together brought something to offer at the buffet table.

Now, I might not like potato salad, but you know what I'm not going to do? Tell my friend to her face that her potato salad sucks and she never should have brought it. I'm going to politely pass on eating it, and be glad that all the people at the party who do like potato salad have something to eat. In the same vein, not everyone is going to like my cake, maybe the flavour is wrong, maybe I used too much icing, maybe they just don't like cake. But that's fine, they don't have to eat my cake. But if you choose to eat my cake, and find you don't like the flavour after taking a bite, then the polite thing to do is quietly stop eating the cake, and go and find something else to eat.

Do not seek me out and tell me to my face everything that was wrong with my cake, and why you don't enjoy it. Do not tell me to my face, that my cake sucks and you wish I'd never brought it.

Do you think telling someone that you hate the way they made a cake is a good and productive way to get them to keep making cakes for you? Or perhaps, is the way to keep an amateur baker wanting to bake, to tell them what you enjoyed about their cake. Even a simple, 'I really liked this cake' goes a long way.

And if you do like my cake, if you love my cake actually, do not then follow me home from the party and start demanding I make you cake all the time. I don't always have time to make cakes.

And just to cover all of my bases, because I am also seeing a trend of folk who think that sharing fanfiction online is the same as submitting manuscripts to publishers and that therefore criticism is allowed. It's not.

To continue to beat this cake metaphor. This is the difference between taking my cake to a party with friends (AO3) and taking my cake onto the Great British Bake off (A professional publishing environment).

If I wanted constructive criticism on my cake, I'd seek it out from expert bakers who know what they're talking about.

No one goes to a friend's party with a cake they made and wants to hear what they're doing wrong. Unless explicitly asked, keep your criticisms to yourself and put the cake down if you don't like it. It's so very easy to not eat a cake if you hate how it tastes.

Finally, a combination of both the points above, really, but I cannot stress this enough. These usernames you're sending anonymous asks to? The handles on AO3 you're writing comments for? They're people. They are human fucking beings that deserve respect and kindness. I am a human being. And sending what you sent up there to another person over fanfiction?? That's just mean, friend. That's just out and out cruelty. I have no other words to describe that.

I could give a flying fuck if you think I'm begging for comments. I could care less you wanna say my writing is terrible. At the end of the day, my writing is mine and I'm going to keep doing it because I find writing fun. It's a hobby that helps me de-stress from the horrors of my real life situations. Frankly, you should be begging me to stop because I have no plans to do anything but keep inflicting my drawn out plots and bad character writing on the world for as long as it keeps making me happy.

But I beg you to take a second off of social media today and think over what makes fandom- something that should be a hobby, a safe place to escape from the world- this serious for you. Because the kicker in all this? My friend, if you think what I post is annoying and my writing is bad, you can not see it. You can block me. You can click away from my stories. Your online space is yours to curate and no one, literally not a single person, is making you engage with things you don't want to engage with. Curate your space, fill it with people who aren't 'begging for comments', fill it with fics you think are really good and deserve to be told how good they are through wonderful comments. Please, I am begging you, because at the end of the day to live in such negativity must be so exhausting for you.

I've no idea if you, the original sender of this message will even read through all of this, but if you did, please, if not me, then any other fandom creators you come across going forward. Please treat them with kindness. Please respect that sometimes fandoms are spaces people hide in when their real lives are scary and frustrating and negative enough and all you do with messages like these is drive people away.

TL;DR: this is not the way you get more updates from fic authors, and further from that, it's not the way you treat anyone. Ever. Do better. Do much better.

#im sorry that was long but i needed to drive some points home lol #im so tired #let me enjoy my cake in peace for the love of god #go eat something else on the buffet table #ive no idea if that metaphor even makes sense the way i want it to but oh well #ask gin #gin speaks #gin fucking loses his mind on the tl #im going to log off now because its 3am #and i need to yell scream cry before i sleep

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redyarns · 16 days ago

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Hey uh-

I just want your opinion on this idea I had

Like a transformers one AU

So uh you know about (if you do <:) ) the Netflix series called

'the 100'

So I was like thinking what if Cybertron was abandon and sentinel took all mechs on this ship up to space 'for the greater good'

And like only sent 100 mechs down to Cybertron to retrieve energon to bring back to the ship

(cause they would be running low on energon)

And Orion was one of the very few chosen to go down on cybertron

(along with a few familiar autobots, like bee who could be a tech worker, elita a chief or commander, ratchet who could be a medic accompanying the 100 ( I know he wasn't in transformers One but kinda wanna include him)

Ofc MegOp ship is welcome

Like enemies to friends ( or allies ) to lovers type of thing

And uh Megatron (D-16) could be leaders of the grounders/ basically the decepticons (who were still on Cybertron) and Meg despises uh sentinel (something that has to do with the truth to what happen to Cybertron and what sentinel has to do with the quintessons/ like something similar to what happen in the movie)

You get where I'm going with this <:)

Is like a similar plot line to the 100 but with some parts of the transformers movie being thrown in.

Sorry for the long text here TvT

Just want to know your opinion

I got this idea while listening to a song and re-reading your fic "Caught In The Undertow"

I love the fic btw :D

Again sorry

hi anon!! yes i do know what show ur talking about, i briefly watched it when the show came out but i stopped around the middle of the first season due to becoming obsessed with supernatural (which we dont talk about).

this is a VERY exciting au!! id love to read it. it actually fits really nicely with the characters and the continuity set up in tf1, so i can definitely imagine the stakes and situations quite well. if u write it please let me know so i can kudos and comment!

and oh my goodness, thank u for liking undertow haha!!! u should tell me what song u were listening to so i can add it to my unofficial undertow playlist. and please dont apologize!! i love getting messages like these, they make my day.

many kisses 🩷🩷

#megop #undertow #transformers #ask peony #hehe anon u are very cute

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sgiandubh · 6 months ago

Text

Ad hominem

Alright, BIF. I let you shine your yellow light all night long on your blog. You specifically call me out as, at best, uninformed and at worst, a liar. It is my (legal, ethical, etc) right to answer.

You quote me and you add a long list of shippers who sent you comments and Anons, just to prove me wrong. It is your strictest right, of course:

This is exactly what I did write. But let's see a bit closer your 10 entries list. Curious people can check it here: https://www.tumblr.com/brian-in-finance/751660983126294528/kudos-for-saving-all-these-comments-and-anons-bif?source=share:

Out of those 10 entries, 7 are made before I entered the fray - unless you think I am a maniac, I had no clue about it. Out of those 7, #4 at least was written by a person I blocked myself. And #7 is anything but hateful (SHW does not need another lawyer, of course, but it stroke me as very representative of what you people do ALL THE TIME) - it is simply a decent, but firm answer:

If a different opinion is 'sowing hate or spreading doubt', kudos to you, lady, indeed. But let's continue, shall we?

Entry #8 is an Anon. God only knows who wrote it. Perhaps a shipper. Perhaps one of your people. Perhaps yourself. It's not unheard of, after all. I never did anything remotely like that on my own page. Sending myself Anons is simply idiotic (hell, I never sent any Anon after starting my own blog, for that matter). I have no idea who dunnit. Anons are Anons. And it is a nasty one. Unnecessarily so. Entry #10 is also an Anon, so same modus operandi by you, here: you include something impossible to prove conclusively. And you know it. Entry #9 is by someone I have no way or wish to identify (typical sock account avatar, so probably one of those) and who called you 'dumb' on your own page. She shouldn't have. It is naive at best and disingenuous at worst. It's poor taste, indeed and it brings absolutely nothing to the table. That person should have written a post about it on her own blog - but I am not that person, BIF, so 🤷‍♀️.

That being said, let's see how your ever serviceable friend, Miss Marple, does in the calumny department. Before anything else, it is absolutely correct she NEVER leaves comments on adverse pages. She just loses her temper, from time to time, on her own page - don't we all?

She writes in her long reblog of your post (FYI, the correct term is 'beliefs', not the one being used):

Guess what? I also have a list, BIF. A list of personal attacks by this user. Directed at me. Maybe it's not as long as yours, but it is there, alright. I have often thought of compiling it, but somehow never got around to it. I am not going to post it, because I do not want you people to cannibalize my time. From calling me a nut case, to comparing me to Emily White, to accusing me of insulting her deceased mother, to belittling me, to publicly denouncing me towards a third party, I have seen it all from that woman.

One more time - what she thought to be a personal insult to her mother, is in fact an idiom:

I used it to mean she would do just about anything to achieve clicks and traffic. But hey, for sure, victimization is a way better strategy.

Your problem with me is a personal one. That goes for both of you. But it just goes to show how intolerant you are towards different opinions, how irritated you are when you are called out for being wrong about things and ultimately, how terribly useless this whole thing is.

Below is something to reflect upon, BIF. Not about your reliable friend, but about another troll. Her Opinions Only, of course 🐮:

That is all. You do you, all of you, by all means. But whenever you mention me, you should expect an answer. For the time being, this is my response to you.

#fandom #shitshow

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fuckyeah-beringandwellsfics · 4 months ago

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Hi! I'm not new to Myka and Helena, I remembered them from the 2010s and now watched the show just for them, but I am new to Myka and Helena fanfiction.

Do you know any more fics like this https://archiveofourown.org/works/957200?view_adult=true or vaguely like this?

Is there a big masterlist of good Myka and Helena fics? I've been reading through their tag on AO3, but there are 1600+ fics 😯 so it'll take me a while to read them. I'd like to read some good ones.

Hi and thank you for asking, anon! That fic is great, isn't it! (clickable version of the written-out link anon sent: Resigned to These Histories (We Exist) by journaliar/@snake-juice)

Anon, as far as I am aware, there is no *one* big masterlist.

Several people in this fandom have made their own rec lists over time, of course, from the very beginning. (The older they are, unfortunately, the higher the chance that some links might not work anymore, but you can still try them out!) I have a "fic rec" tag on my main blog (linked in case you want to know the source; that tag contains other fics too, not just Bering and Wells, but all of them femslash), and here are some Bering and Wells specific lists that I've found going through it:

styrofoamtokyo's list, from 2014

tracybering's list of Tracy Bering friendly fics and art, also from 2014

lonely-night's lists from 2017 and 2018

wibblywobblyida's list from 2021

There's also the Ballet AU, a collaboration with multiple fics and pieces of art, from several of this fandom's best authors and artists; highly recommended, masterpost here.

I'm sure there are more fic rec lists slumbering on people's blogs! So here's my call to anyone who sees this post: please link yours!

I myself am trying to assemble recs on an individual basis. Almost a year ago, I tried to make a list of what has been already recommended through this post, but now that is way out of date, of course.

Beyond these lists, the usual tips for AO3 and Tumblr apply (under a readmore for length):

when you found a fic you liked, click on the author's name and see what else they've written for the ship/fandom, see if you like those too

check if that author's bookmarks are public; those are fics that they liked, and maybe you'll like them too

and then with those fics, you can go to *those* authors' profiles and see what else *they* have written - and so on.

Don't forget to bookmark and/or download these fics so that you can find them again. You need to have a user profile yourself to bookmark fics (and that's not the only advantage; I highly recommend it - and remember, you can set your bookmarks to private if you want).

also, please please consider leaving kudos and comments on fics that you've liked - a lot of authors are still active in the fandom/for the ship, and kudos and comments always help us *stay* active, because they tell us that people still enjoy what we create. Even if the specific fic in question is from the early days of the fandom, kudos and comments are always welcome.

same goes for reblogs on Tumblr, be it the above lists, individual fic rec posts, or posts from the authors themselves with or about their stories.

some authors with a Tumblr blog also have a dedicated "my fics" tag or link on those blogs. Always worth clicking through from an individual Tumblr post to the author's blog, and seeing if something like that is on it - and if the author is still actively writing, consider giving them a follow (and reblogging their fic posts; I've heard from so many authors that their fic posts barely get any reblogs at all to spread the word)

I hope that all or at least some of these tips are helpful to you, Anon - there is a lot of great stuff out there, and you're right, it can be a bit daunting to figure out where to start. And hey, it's always okay to click back out of a fic you find you don't like. No harm no foul, even if the fic came recommended; everyone's taste is different! There is no "required reading" that you *have* to have done to be a fan. You already are, no matter how many fics you've read!

#bering and wells #bering & wells #warehouse 13 #wh13 #w13 #myka bering #helena g wells #helena wells #anonymous ask #fic rec lists #assembly of #add yours!#2024 #july 2024

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myuntoldstory · 22 days ago

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HP prompt request(James/Lily AU where they live): “how was Harry’s first day in kindergarten?”

don't lose the way that you dance

doing a "two birds, one stone" type of thing by, finally, answering this ask. my sincerest apologies, anon, for the grossly late reply. things happened between when you sent this and now, and things have been tough.

and also, putting this in for @jilytoberfest's 31 prompts 2024. seeing my fic on their bingo card gave me a burst of inspiration big enough to finally finish this story and contribute.

and finally, i'm, posting this to celebrate your love thawed out being so close to 100 kudos. really cool. thank you to everyone who've read and gave it some love, i really do appreciate it.

Prompt 6: Making food together | Prompt 27: "what if it doesn't work" "what if it does work" (sorry, i know the 27th is 2 or 3 days away but i'm doing a pre-emptive thing; knowing myself if i hold onto it for too long it won't ever go out)

Death never fazed James, especially not during the war. But little does he know it has different faces—that loss is not just about losing life but also about living it. Within the landscape of grief are winding paths and forked roads. No, James has never feared losing his life—but losing Harry... losing what was once was to make way for what will be, for what is supposed to be, well… That fucking terrifies him.

A short story set after "your love thawed out". James and Lily accompany Harry for his first day of kindergarten and reflect on this new stage of their lives.

Based on Taylor Swift's song "Never Grow Up".

read on ao3 or under the cut

warnings: a loose interpretation of the prompts

“Out cold, Macdonald.”

“Hmm.”

Sirius approaches as Mary pulls a blanket over Harry’s prone form, tucking him in as he dozes off. He watches her remove his glasses, folding them and placing them on the coffee table. The gentleness in her touch is obvious as she brushes messy locks of hair from his eyes.

“Crashed about, what, five minutes of playing?” she murmurs playfully.

Sirius snorts, nudging her with his foot. “Join us when you’re done.”

“Yep—don’t frost everything without me.”

“Never.”

With a parting grin, he makes his way to the kitchen, where James and Lily stand by the island. Plates of naked cupcakes, bowls of frosting, and piping bags filled with different-coloured frosting cover the surface. Little containers of toppings, from candied fruit to lollies, fill what space is left. Lily pipes a gradient of red and yellow icing in a perfect swirling pattern on top of a cupcake before passing it to James, who decorates it with the toppings.

“So,” Sirius drawls, taking a cupcake and piping bag filled with solid Ravenclaw-blue frosting. “How was Harry’s first day of class?”

“Oh—”

Sirius focuses on piping, fully expecting James to answer without even looking up. He patiently waits, shooting furtive looks at Lily to try and copy what she’s doing. He squeezes, and an amorphous blob comes out. His brow twitches in annoyance before trying again, this time mindful of the pressure he puts in—what comes out instead is a fat dollop. Sighing in irritation, he glances up expectantly when James takes too long. His best mate hastily schools his expression to that of overly bright optimism.

“It’s…”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

How long have they been standing there?

Seconds ago, it was bright— too bright. And noisy. So cacophonous that every sound had solidified; it no longer bounced around in echoes but absorbed… somewhere. Children everywhere—each unique in shape and size, but all with the same loudness, the same jittering excitement, anxiety, and curiosity. Parents everywhere, too, all wrapped up in goodbyes—warning teachers, giving hugs and kisses. The emotions on display fit a varied spectrum from excited to devastated—but all proud. All of them relieved—probably because they’ve gained some independence back.

Against the wall, James sighs—against his chest, Lily breathes in shakily. Her shoulders shake. He glances at the top of her head, combing his fingers through her tresses. Safe to say they are on the “devastated” end of the spectrum. He tips his head and stares at the ceiling. The cool fluorescent light burns into his retinas, but he barely notices. He sinks into his thoughts.

They’ve been preparing for this moment for years. That it’s over in an instant is almost insulting—more so when he realises they’re still ill-equipped for it.

A door creaks open. He senses movement before seeing it. He straightens, holding Lily closer and bringing his arm higher around her head to hide her away from the view of whichever curious onlooker decides to barge in on them. Laughter and chatter spill from the gap, filling the hallway with brightness and echoes. He realises then that the door leads to a classroom. A woman pokes her head out, gazing at them with polite but wary curiosity. James smiles tightly. The silence in the hallway tenses, but he doesn’t deign to break it. The woman hesitates, realisation dawning on her expression.

“Er…” she says, breaking the ice, voice lacking any real authority. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” James answers, smile turning more sheepish. “Yes—sorry, we just dropped our son off, so...”

Wary curiosity melts into sympathy. “Oh, I see.”

“We’ll be on our way soon.”

“No, no, please. Take your time.”

With a warmer smile, the woman pulls back and closes the door.

Silence again.

James blows out a heavy sigh, his cheeks puffing, thumping his head against the wall. He squeezes Lily, rubbing her back to get her to look at him. A hairline fracture runs across his heart. Seeing Lily is like dropping weight on it, causing it to branch and score deeper. His wife is all redness and tears, though, somehow, still practically glowing—from the rims of her eyes to the tip of her nose and the arch of her cupid’s bow.

With a sad scoff, she pouts miserably. The corners of his lips can’t help tugging up. He allows the smile, but it’s tinted with sympathy and understanding. He kisses her forehead and pets her hair.

“Come along, Mrs Potter.” He lets go, except for her hand. “Playground’s at the back.”

“Playground?” Lily sniffles, wiping the tears away.

“Harry’s waiting.”

He leads the way, and she follows easily.

The playground is like any other. It has the typical equipment: a jungle gym, slide, swings, seesaw, spinners, and climbers. A giant sandbox sits at the centre. A garden of herbs, vegetables, and flowers sits closer to the classrooms. Benches dot the area, covered by a canopy of branches from the trees around it. James barely notices all of this as he leads Lily toward the swings. There’s a subtle poke, a niggling at the back of his neck. He looks towards the building, at the glass double doors, and the scores across his heart almost splinter apart.

Harry.

His little face and hands pressed against the pane, all red the same way as Lily—eyes, nose, and cupid’s bow. There is a suspicious shine to his gaze, but no tears have fallen—yet. Not like before. Before, it was like a waterfall when he realised they had to leave him.

James remembers how each drop is a stab in his gut, in his soul. No matter how much he wiped them away, they kept coming and coming until they pulled the most heart-wrenching wails out of his son’s mouth. The force of it pushed Harry’s little arms out, clutching at him and Lily, tiny hands gripping with all his strength. James didn’t want to let go—wanted to hold his son close and take him home. With his wife. Together as a family.

But he couldn’t.

The memory fades. James waves it goodbye as he waves his son hello.

Harry sniffles, eyes becoming dangerously wetter.

“God, look at his face.”

Lily’s wavering voice is a welcome distraction, but not by much. He holds his breath and glances at her, seeing her wave at Harry, too. Her eyes are glassy again, her chin and lower lip trembling as he leads her to sit on the swing. He sits beside her, never looking away, breathing easier again as her eyes take on a more solid shine and her chin and lips steady. Her breathing evens.

James feels safe looking away and turning his attention back to Harry. He’s still plastered against the glass, pressing himself so hard he can stumble through it if he really wants. With magic manifesting in weird and wonderful ways during childhood, the thought makes him worry. Just their luck if their son exposes himself on his first day. The corner of James’ lip quirks up, and he chuckles as Harry’s bottom lip juts out in a pout. He waves again.

“All right?” he says, holding onto the chains.

Lily sighs deeply. “I will be.”

“Okay.”

“Hey.”

Their gazes meet. She reaches out, curling her hand around his.

James smiles, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “I will be too.”

Silence falls, occasionally broken by the creak and grind of metal. They swing idly, hands clasped tightly, legs gently pushing them to and fro. James’ thumb caresses the back of Lily’s hand in comforting strokes. His attention returns to Harry, and never leaves. The teacher successfully pulls him away, but even as he obeys and sits with the class, he continues looking at them.

James makes sure to wave each time, not missing the anxious look on his son’s face—because it’s his. Harry looking exactly like James is like a conduit to his son’s emotions—a mirror and a trip to the past at the same time. Because he recognises it; he’s seen it before on himself. It’s as helpful as it is heartbreaking, especially during times like these when he would rather Harry wear a happier face.

“We spoil him too much.”

James turns to Lily, sees her stop mid-wave.

“He spoils us too,” he squeezes her hand. “Look at us.”

Lily chuckles and smiles defeatedly at him. The amused sparkle in her eyes is a relief. She squeezes back, smile fading as she looks to the classroom again. James’ hazel eyes trace the line of her profile. The redness has begun to fade, leaving behind her natural colouring—a gentle sort of rose-pink, gradating into her skin. A gentle breeze blows by, carrying threads of her hair into the air, glinting fire into the morning light.

“He hasn’t left our side since he was born,” she muses, voice low.

He nods slowly. “We’ve left him alone plenty.”

“No—I mean, yeah, with family and friends…” she trails off into contemplative silence before breaking it with a sharp sigh. She meets his eyes. The amusement has vanished, replaced by a much more concerned glint. “But we’re leaving him with strangers. That’s different—we barely know these people.”

“True.” Not helpful, something Lily doesn’t want to hear.

But he can’t lie to her—he doesn’t want to.

“They don’t know him like we do.”

“They will… eventually.”

Her brows draw together. “What if they get it wrong?”

“He will tell them.” James pauses. Sighs. “We will. They’ll learn.”

“And if he gets hurt?”

There’s an insistent note in her voice. Suddenly, anything he says will bear a lot of weight. It’s not that he’s been careless, but he senses the challenge, the bait appealing to his arrogance, his need to have an answer for everything—to be right in everything. It reminds him of when they were younger, back when they were rivals, and everything was a source of annoyance and challenge—well, for Lily, anyway. Half of the time, James just did things to get a rise out of her because he found her cute.

“Then he gets hurt—Lily,” he adds hurriedly at his wife’s incredulous, affronted look. He squeezes her hands to get her to stop and listen. Her hackles calm, and she watches him with narrowed eyes. “Lily, love, we got hurt. Our parents were in this position once—they still are. You know they wished for the same things; still, none of us got away unscathed.

Lily huffs a sigh, but she blinks in acknowledgement—and displeasure.

“I know, love, I’m sorry… but this is how it will be from now on.”

Lily still looks unhappy, but that’s not what James is trying to do anyway.

“We will be here for him—all of us. Always,” he continues, taking the challenge with certainty he doesn’t feel right now but knows will be as inevitable as today, as any other days like this in the future. “He will be okay.”

“... But it won’t be that easy.”

“No…”

He rises from the swing and kneels in front of her. Lily’s hands rest in a tight ball on her lap, and he covers them with his own, holding them firmly. He looks up, gazing into her eyes. They’re as vivid as the greenery surrounding them but deeper, revealing an endless depth only reserved for Harry and their family. She meets his gaze, searching desperately, no longer challenging him to be right but hoping he is.

He squeezes her hand, asking for that trust, asking for a chance, as he always does, because when has he ever been wrong before?

“This is how it’s always been,” he murmurs, nodding. “It’s life.”

Lily hesitates and nods in return, looking down at their hands. “I know.”

“It’s… terrifying. Horrifying. We—” he hesitates, swallowing hard, “—we know that better than most.”

Lily audibly swallows hard. James knows that in that instant, the same memories flicker in her mind—barely adults waging a war that wasn’t theirs yet dumped unceremoniously on their doorstep. Children had to make choices that weren’t their own. Shattered innocence still hoping for a brighter future. Lily’s back carried the weight of survival, while James carried the weight of protection. Determination did not push them to stay alive every day—it was this. Exactly this. That hope was like a hearth in their hearts, keeping the fire ablaze and angry.

Now Harry carries that hope, that fire.

He’s even more precious now, making them feel even more wretched about letting go.

“But,” he continues, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles to bring her back to him. She looks into his eyes again, darker and more haunted. Seeing him brings back their usual colour—the forest under a cloudless day. He smiles, brilliant and handsome. “It’s beautiful too. Kind. Lovely. Like you.”

Lily’s shoulders sag, and her eyes soften. The corners of her lips tug up in a warm, gentle smile before they set in a more permanent, wry slant. She rolls her eyes. He can tell she’s trying not to be swept away by his compliment. He grins, smug and pleased with himself. He kisses the backs of her hands, her soft chuckle filling him with warmth.

“Look, I wish that’s all he’ll ever know.” James leans away and looks back up at Lily. This time, she’s the one nodding. “I want him happy all the time. God, I want nothing more, and I know we’ll do our best to make it so… but life. He’ll learn that, just like we did.”

“... I know.” Lily bites her lip and looks away, avoiding his piercing look as she finally admits: “I just… I’m so scared it won’t work out for him. That something will go horribly wrong.”

“I know, love. It’s paralysing, I get it. But that won’t happen, yeah? Life will work out fine for Harry—again if it doesn’t, we’re here.” Another squeeze, as if to prove the truth of his words—ensure that they are alive, and so is Harry. Though apart now, he’s only a short distance away—they’re never truly gone from each other. “We will be here. For him. To help. To guide. Comfort. Love—”

“And that’s enough.”

James pauses before sighing in relief, beaming at Lily’s addition. “Yes.”

Lily meets his eyes, smiling back. “Better than if we weren’t here.”

“That’s right.”

“At least it’s not the war anymore.”

“Precisely.”

With a sigh, he kisses her hands again. He takes on a more comfortable position, crossing his legs but still staying by his wife’s feet. He senses the change in her mood, the return of her usual light. When it was time to let go of Harry, she had been so inconsolable that he worried about whether she’d be okay. But he should’ve known he never had to worry; Lily’s resilience is unmatched, a fact he had gotten to know intimately in school and during the war. But when the weight of everything became too much, he made sure to be there—to hold her up. To keep the light shining in her eyes, he’ll carry the weight of the world for her.

“That’s my girl.” He smiles wider at her chuckle.

Silence again. James glances towards the classroom, half of him expecting Harry plastered against the glass again—but no. He remains with his class. James catches his eyes, though. Anxiety flashes across Harry’s face for a second. James waves, smile softening in relief when Harry waves back this time, albeit reluctantly.

It’s only now, separated by glass, that James realises just how much his son has grown up—how much time has passed. He remembers when Lily gave birth, how that was the singularly most terrifying thing he’s ever experienced. Because of that, his family has been his life for years. He swallows hard, a lump forming in his throat as a strange, overwhelming sense of loss washes over him.

For a time, it seemed that Harry would remain a baby forever—that the days of him being so small, so chubby, so theirs would go on for eternity. But he turned one. He grew out of so many clothes, each outgrown outfit marking a moment of change—quicker than they could even keep up with buying replacements. Parts of him took on more shape; the greens of his eyes started looking familiar, reminding James of a forest under a cloudless day. Every day, James sees the mirror of him growing before his eyes until one unexpected moment, he realises that his own expressions are no longer his, but Harry’s.

But… still. Still a baby. Still theirs. They were all he knew, all he ever called upon—kept them at night, gave them his firsts and received theirs. The world belonged to them, their lives inextricably theirs. But he turned two. He shot up and lost all the chubbiness. More clothes to discard, but now containing versions of him, changing old parts for new ones. Within the ever-deepening green of his eyes, awareness and consciousness lit up like something inside him flicked it on. Harry manifesting as himself. It was like meeting him for the first time all over again.

It never stopped. Another year. Another version—more Harry than their son. He saw more of the world and saw less of theirs. He made friends, liked things, didn’t like things, loved some, and hated others. Spilling from his lips were words and sounds that sounded like them but painted with his colours. In his unique way, he let them know who he was—Harry as himself but still so painfully theirs in some sparkling moments. In their cottage, they lived a dual life: raising a child who came from them, while also raising the person he was meant to become.

And it was wonderful.

But also alarming.

Death never fazed James, especially not during the war. But little does he know it has different faces—that loss is not just about losing life but also about living it. Within the landscape of grief are winding paths and forked roads. No, James has never feared losing his life—but losing Harry… losing what was once was to make way for what will be, for what is supposed to be, well…

That fucking terrifies him.

“It just feels so fast.”

Lily’s soft voice grounds him. He realises his heart is racing, trying to run from a reality they can’t escape. James swallows hard and turns from the classroom to his wife. He caresses her hands, trying to assure her and himself.

“I know.” His voice cracks.

Lily smiles at him tightly. “The past few weeks, my mind’s been on a loop about how one day… he’ll be gone.”

“Lily.” He squeezes her hands again. “He’ll come back to us—”

“No, I know—”

“By law, he has to.”

Lily snorts. Within the next few seconds, her expression shifts and twitches in an obvious effort not to laugh. But she snorts again, and something breaks. Full-bodied laughter bubbles from her lips—beautiful, like her, and so lovely. It’s lighter than the breeze blowing by, dancing with her fiery hair; within the trilling notes are hints of Harry’s laughter. James can’t help joining in—his is a little lower, slightly sombre, but still full of love and amusement.

He tapers off first, watching her ride the wave of her joy. The darker red of her lashes glints copper in the sunlight as little gems of unshed tears cling on, making them sparkle. James isn’t sure if they’re from laughter or more grief, but he doesn’t push anything about it. His wife is laughing, and for now, that’s enough.

“Well… one day he won’t.” Though she continues to smile, she gives him a pointed look.

“Then we go to him just like our parents do now.”

“James.”

He shrugs—always, always, he has an answer ready for her. It doesn’t matter what it is as long as he doesn’t leave her hanging. Lily knows that—it’s evident from how her smile becomes indulgent and longsuffering, but the edges remain soft and loving. Her shoulders sag defeatedly in such an obvious way it’s like she’s been fighting a battle all this time. James laughs when she makes a show of sighing.

“All right, you persistent prat,” she concedes. “You win—as always.”

“It’s going to be okay, Lily, I promise,” James grins. “It’s change.”

“I know.”

Lily leans in. James quickly rises on his knees to meet her halfway, happily receiving the kiss she presses on his lips. They linger, reluctant to break the bubble of comfort and assurance around them—James more than Lily. He cups her cheek with one hand, holding her in place as he deepens the kiss a little—mindful that they’re in a preschool and not in the privacy of their home. He breaks it eventually, but Lily doesn’t move away.

“Change is fine, I suppose,” she mumbles against his lips. “As long as it’s with you.”

He chuckles, pressing another kiss. “You’re never getting rid of me.”

“No, suppose not.”

Another chuckle. One last kiss. And James on his feet. As he does so, his gaze turns to the classroom—and a smile lights up.

“Look,” he breathes.

He doesn’t check to make sure she’s looking—it’s obvious from her happy gasp. The class seems to be doing an activity now. Harry sits at a table next to another child. They’re talking and shyly sharing crayons as they scribble. James watches, pride filling him to the brim, elation fluttering like butterflies in his body as he sees the delicate confidence in how Harry holds himself, the concentration on his face, and the tentative way he moves around his new friend.

This must be what his parents felt when he was going off on his own. And here he is now. Hope whispers, assuring him Harry will be okay. Eventually, that hope morphs into a quiet wish that Harry would glance back for reassurance, just one more time. But he doesn’t. Along the flutter of happiness within James is now the sting of melancholy and disappointment.

Yet, his smile widens, and he shakes his head at himself. He looks at Lily just as she looks at him. It doesn’t surprise him that the same disappointed but happy smile graces her beautiful face. Raising his brows inquisitively, he inclines his head towards the exit. She nods. He offers his hand, and she takes it. With one last look at Harry, James and Lily start making their way out.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“—Fine,” Lily says at last.

Sirius blinks and glances at her. She doesn’t offer any more, too casually keeping her attention to the cupcakes. She hands the freshly frosted cupcake to James, who takes it, reaching for the toppings and focusing on decoration as if it’s the most important thing he’s ever done. Eventually, Lily looks up to acknowledge Sirius’s scrutinising stare.

“It was fine,” she insists with a tight smile.

Sirius grins slowly. “You cried, didn’t you?”

Lily immediately looks indignant and opens her mouth to retort—

James sighs affectionately. “As much as Harry did—”

“Oi!” Lily picks up the spatula from one of the bowls and smears frosting on his cheek. “So did you!”

“Whoa—hey!”

He takes Lily’s spatula and covers her left cheek with one firm swipe. And then, it’s like a free-for-all. Noise erupts, followed by chaos—frosting flying, laughter and yelps filling the kitchen. It’s like being back in that preschool. Mary walks in, sees the chaos, and tries to slip out unnoticed. It doesn’t escape their notice. Sirius, the closest to her, drags her into the fray. Lily and James scoop frosting from the bowls as Mary struggles, but with Sirius holding her firmly, resistance is pointless.

“No, no, no—!”

She stops protesting the moment the frosting lands. With a sigh, she sags against Sirius, hands raised in surrender. Her eyes squeeze shut as she takes the impromptu make-over from her friends: Lily drawing a heart on her cheek, James adding more on her forehead, and Sirius finishing off with his signature amorphous blob on her nose.

“Great,” Mary deadpans, nodding with a conceding expression. She opens her eyes and sees the three looking very pleased with themselves. “Perfect. Thank you, very lovely.”

Sirius winks. “We believe in equal frosting opportunities, Macdonald.”

At that, they all laugh, including Mary, but she sobers up quickly with a hastily put-together disapproving look.

“Well, I’m here to frost some cupcakes.”

“Oh, shit, right,” Lily gasps.

Covered in frosting, they return to the island, which remains clean. Lily and James go back to what they were doing while Sirius picks up a cupcake from the plate and hands it to Mary after she picks up a bag of frosting. With a murmured word of thanks, she takes the cupcake and starts to frost it—perfectly. Sirius’ eyes can’t help twitching at that.

“Why are we doing this again?” Mary mumbles.

“Gideon’s coming around with his nephews tomorrow,” James answers.

“Oh, nice!”

#jilytober2024 #jilytoberfest2024 #jily #james potter #lily evans #harry potter #jple #james potter x lily evans #james x lily #marauders era #harry potter fanfic #hp fanfic #mus writes #mus writes fanfic

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