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celestiaras · 10 months

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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ deal with the devils ]❜

ft. doppio dropscythe, kotoka torahime, ver vermillion, meloco kyoran, hex haywire (separate, mostly) x f! reader — xsoleil, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ looks like you landed yourself in debt to a student council member after a gamble, but instead of paying it off with cash, they decided that you’ll be their personal pet!┊2.1k words

contains: smut!! dom doppi, koto, ver, melo, hex & sub reader┊kakegurui au, dubcon, pet play (collars, leashes, pet names, melo & hex treat you like a cat), master/pet dynamic, embarrassment/humiliation, third parties can be seen as xsoleil doppi - possessive behavior, fingering, edging as punishment, maybe ooc koto - masturbation (reader), recording, sending the vid to a third party) ver - cockwarming & unprotected sex, public (in front of xsoleil) melo - sex toys under clothing (publicly, in front of a third party) hex - possessive behavior, thigh-riding

➤ author's note: kotoka singing deal with the devil… happy one year anniversary to my fav wave!! looking forward to write more content for them because they deserve it! (especially the girls smh)┊(karaoke stream link)

snickering from onlookers didn’t help your situation as you bit your lip to stop yourself from crying, staring down at the cards in horror with your face burning from embarrassment. the student council member across from you smirked in victory, enjoying the show of your once confident exterior crumbling and tears beginning to streak down your pretty face. you weren’t a bad opponent, you just second-guessed your own abilities too many times which caused them to catch your bluff. now, you owe millions to them as a result.

don’t be so worried, they have a deal for you! either you become a regular ‘mittens’ to be bullied and harassed by the entire student body while trying to earn money by gambling to get out of your shitty situation faster (which could spiral into more than you could handle if you lost, forcing you to be a pet for the rest of your life) or you can become their personal housepet until they deemed your debt paid off. all that it takes is a tight collar with their name engraved in it rather than the standard dog tags to seal the deal. it’s a choice with only one answer really, they’ve never opened this option to anyone else so you would be stupid not to pick this easier route, you lucky girl!

━━━ .°˖✧ doppio dropscythe ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ as the duke of discipline, he also happens to be the one who’s also in charge of collecting debts from those who are long overdue or enforcing the life plans that are given out if the cash is never paid back. added with his past as a delinquent, he’s one of the scariest people in the school even if he insists that he could be much worse and that the students “don’t even know what scary is.” being his is added protection, you suppose. even as a designated housepet, you’re still exposed to getting terrorized by others because of your low status so having doppio’s name on your collar is enough to scare off anyone who thought of mocking you after your loss. even though usually he’s sweet toward you, his frightening side can show if you ever did something that displeased him. you could always try to be sneaky, but he has eyes and ears everywhere and always catches you,

his thumb pressed into the side of your stomach, holding you still so you could quit squirming in his grasp. your skirt was flipped upwards and your panties were merely pushed to the side, enabling him to brutally thrust his long fingers into your cunt. this was punishment, you already knew. he didn’t like the idea of you continuing to gamble to try and earn money to get out of your deal with him. did you really dislike being called his that much? or were you scared of him? he always tries his best to be kind towards you, but he guesses that seeing him threatening others daily doesn’t do much to ease your fears.

maybe finger-fucking you on a desk in an empty classroom doesn’t help either, but he needs to teach you a lesson in some way! you mewled as you felt him tease that spongy spot in you as he rotated his hand, causing you to unravel on the hardwood of the table. his palm rubbed against your clit and it was driving you insane, your cries becoming more and more pitched as you sensed your climax approaching. as melodic as you sounded right now, doppio couldn’t allow you to just yet and pulled back. he’ll repeat this as many times as it takes to discipline you because despite how it’s a vicious cycle for you, it’s an extremely fun one for him.

━━━ .°˖✧ kotoka torahime ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ first things first, as kotoka’s housepet, you’re also her servant: expect to clean up her place of residence, cook for her using fresh ingredients, and remind her to shower consistently (sometimes you’ll even help her out and massage the shampoo into her scalp). she loves to dress you up in little revealing maid dresses while you do it too, taking dozens of candid photos to further clog up her already stuffed storage on her phone. she just adores dressing you up in different styles that she finds on pinterest and trying new makeup products on you in general.

╰₊✧ on that note, she absolutely spoils you nonstop and is willing to buy you whatever clothes you want as long as she’s the first person to see you wearing it! more than half of her posts on her socials are just selfies to show off how cute you are to her massive following, liking every single comment that expresses their envy on how they wished they had a doll like you to pamper.

the ring light positioned on the nightstand was the only light in the room, but it did a perfect job of illuminating your fingers languidly dancing around your clit while kotoka filmed the entire thing on her phone and complimented you for doing such a good job. it was such a sight to watch your essence drip onto the glittery fabric below, staining and ruining the new outfit she just bought for you. don’t worry about the dress, she’ll send it to dry-cleaning later or will even replace the entire thing altogether if needed!

shame has long been thrown out the window as you stared at her painted pink middle and ring fingers that were clipped shorter than the rest, imagining that it was her fingers pushing into you instead. compared to all of the other things she has you do for her amusement, masturbating in front of her while she’s recording is relatively mundane even though there’s a high chance she’ll post it on her private story for her friends to fawn over later. don’t think too much though, just focus on performing for the camera!

━━━ .°˖✧ ver vermillion ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ think you’re let off easy because kaichou is the busiest and seemingly calmest of the bunch? think that kaichou won’t be as kinky as the others because of his position and how gentle he is? think again, you’re at a school full of people with mythic abilities who gamble as a form of status and put losers in leashes, how could anyone be exempt from the insanity? if anything, you should have seen it coming because it’s impossible for someone of his status in such an environment to be anything but a closeted freak.

you’re certain that your face is burning hotter than losing the gamble that got you in this situation, unable to look anywhere but the floor while you were nestled on the president’s cock in front of the other student council members. why he decided to do this is beyond you, but if it would work towards paying off your debt, you were willing to roll with it at the price of your dignity that was repeatedly being torn away from you. you felt incredibly self-conscious at the four pairs of eyes on you: doppio and kotoka merely peeking in a poor attempt to give you some privacy while meloco and hex were staring shamelessly with smirks, wondering if ver would ever let them take his cute pet for a spin.

whatever ver was talking about fell deaf to your ears, just filled with the mind-numbing pleasure of being stretched out by him. as uncomfortable as the whole thing felt, it wasn’t comparable to the feeling of orgasm beginning to bloom as you began to writhe for more stimulation. whenever you shifted and whined, however, he held your thighs still to stop you from moving about. he won’t give you what you want until everyone leaves the room, finally bending you over the table to fuck you until your legs are shaking.

━━━ .°˖✧ meloco kyoran ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ meloco treats you like the prettiest persian kitty in her expensive handbag that would probably cost more than your place of residence, showing you off as her most darling arm candy. she even goes as far as to run her fingers through your hair and baby-talk you while squishing your cheeks like you were a real kitten. she especially does this when she makes you sit on her lap while she’s gambling, doting on you, and paying you more attention than her opponent with the bonus of pissing them off.

╰₊✧ she insists that it’s a form of affection, but you’re more than positive that she just gets off on embarrassing you in front of others. not like how a bully treats a victim when tripping them in the halls or dumping dirty mop on them, more like dragging some bedroom things into the light when you could prefer to keep it private… but anything to pay off your debt, right?

the short plaid uniform skirt was doing you no favors as you pressed your thighs together tightly in hopes of muffling the vibrations being sent to your core, standing behind meloco while she was seated and chatting with some friends. it was on the lowest level, but the bullet toy attached to your clit was making you go crazy. it’s been on since the conversation started, a time period that you long lost track of, desire continuing to bloom but she was purposely edging and it’s certainly better than climaxing in with people taking notice. you clenched your hands together and bit the inside of your mouth to prevent any sounds from escaping your lips, but failed and attracted the attention of another in the room.

you stuttered out that you were fine and adverted your eyes, hoping that their conversation would continue and take their attention off of you already. the exorcist looked at you with an amused smile and you watched in horror as she reached into her pocket for the controller, slowly increasing the speed of the vibrator. your hand shot up to cover your mouth and you ran out of the room, bolting to the nearest empty restroom stall and quickly removing the toy— accepting in defeat that you denied yourself ecstasy in the heat of the moment. it’s not until you left and ran into meloco did you realize that you disobeyed her orders to stay there until she was done, but from the excitement in her magenta eyes, you could tell that she was more than happy to punish you.

━━━ .°˖✧ hex haywire ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ hex isn’t the student counselor for nothing, he’s fantastic at reading people and what their next move would be with just a look at their facial expressions— it would next to impossible to win a gamble against him unless you were wearing a mask. you knew all that and still accepted his challenge out of pride, but don’t feel too bad about it, it was impossible for you to win in the first place! let’s just say that just because he’s essentially an unpaid therapist doesn’t mean that he’s above manipulating situations to his advantage!

╰₊✧ with that in mind, he’s a rigger through and through so don’t be surprised that your debt keeps increasing for various reasons and the fact that the life plan you received requires you to marry him followed by starting a family in the future. it’s not that bad, now is it? would you rather have to marry some disgusting corrupted businessman who would only care for your body and never care for your well-being, or a handsome man who will treat you like a queen and coddle you with endless riches of your wildest imagination?

he tugged on the metal chain to pull you towards him, meeting your lips in the middle in a soft and slow kiss— encouraging you to keep grinding on his thigh. through your soaked panties, you were already leaving a wet spot on his pants and he chuckled at how you were allowing your instincts to take control of your hips so easily like it was second nature. your soft moans and hums were practically purring, almost letting him to visualize a faint outline of a fluffy tail swishing about and pointed ears atop your head.

you were so adorable when you were obedient like this, sitting pretty on his lap while accepting kiss after kiss from him. you tilted your head to the side to allow him access to the soft of your neck, taking in a breath when you felt your pulse rushing under the touch of his lips as he began to mark up your skin all across your collarbone. he’ll lie and cheat a thousand more times for moments like this. if it meant having you in his arms forever, he’ll never feel an ounce of guilt for trapping you with him for the rest of your mortal lives.

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robthegoodfellow · 2 months

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Comment Bingo: Billy Hargrove Edition

Very simple rules: comment on a fic with the given tag in a particular square; repeat until you've completed 5 squares in a line

Very simple goals: encourage readers to comment on fics; encourage fandom writers to KEEP WRITING (about Billy)

Since this card is sooo hyper-specific to my personal interests, I'm posting this here rather than on the bingo blog 😅

Depending on demand, there's also a "deep cut tags" version in the works (featuring beloved but less-used tags: Touch-Starved, Billy in the Upside Down, Lifeguard Billy, etc). Thanks to everyone who made suggestions (@stranger-rants, @harringroveobsessed, @magniloquent-raven, and ESPECIALLY @ihni)

STEPS:

Download Bingo Card HERE (png) or HERE (jpg) or HERE (pdf)

Complete the tasks on the card, marking off each as you go, until you've completed 5 in a line (vertical, horizontal, or diagonal; center ♥️ is a free space)

POST your winning card (or list your filled squares) and tag @robthegoodfellow or @feedthefandomfest! Glory in your victory.

REWARD:

✨ victory badges ✨

New badge for this card, but here are examples from previous cards:

Tag me when you earn a bingo (or double, triple, quadruple... FULL CARD bingo) and I'll reblog a shiny badge with your name on it to commemorate the win.

FAQ:

Can I comment on tumblr or only on AO3?

Either one is great! This card especially is more designed with AO3 in mind, but some can be adjusted to suit tumblr as well, so I say go for it. Tumblr fics deserve love, too.

Can one comment count toward multiple squares if the fic fits more than one category?

Since the goal is for as many fics to receive comments as possible, try to comment on a different fic for each square.

Is there a time limit?

Nope! Take your time or set your own deadline, whatever works for you.

Do I have to record progress on the actual card?

Nope! If it’s easier to keep track in a different way, that’s fine. This is all very honor system, so if you say you earned a Bingo, we’ll call it a win 🎉

Some people have been tracking not just completed tasks, but the fics they read along the way, so that when they post a bingo, they can also promote the fics/authors in a little rec list. Not required, but definitely cool to see!

Can I adjust the task in a particular square to suit my comfort level?

Of course! If you deliver something in the spirit of the task, then it’s all good. Use your best judgement in constructing a comment that will make the author smile, and you can consider it a job well done.

In general, so long as each square has produced at least one comment, you’re golden and I salute you 🫡

Happy commenting!!

#comment bingo #billy hargrove bingo #billy hargrove #harringrove #mungrove

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pugetsoundsocialistrifle · 2 years

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Puget Sound Socialist Rifle Association Statement on Washington State bills 1180 and 1240. (These bills are so-called “Assault Weapons Bans.”)

We sent a member to a public comment session on these bills but unfortunately they did not get a chance to speak. What follows is the statement we had prepared.

“The right to self-defense is a natural right, intuitive and "self-evident" to all rational beings. It is formalized in our state constitution (Art. 1 Sec. 24) and codified in our state laws (RCW 9A.16.20 Sec. 3). The incidence of hate crimes is increasing in Washington and elsewhere; victims of these crimes, primarily members of the BIPOC and LGBTQ+ communities, should not be hindered in their ability to exercise the right to self-defense.

In fact, the rhetoric around our trans citizens has become so toxic that none of our many trans members felt comfortable sharing their name and face in a space where many of the speakers today and at least one representative on this committee seek to deny them a peaceful existence. One member did provide a statement and I would like to share her words with you now.

‘I am a transgender woman living in a country that appears to be descending into a transphobic fever dream. I am a gun owner. It appears that the two-party system is now a choice between a party of predominant gun owners that wants my community dead and a party that wants to prevent my community from effectively defending itself. In recent years, my community has experienced a rise in hate towards us and thus we have participated in a rise in self-defense training and gun ownership. We are supposed to have a right to self-defense according to the Washington constitution and a right to own firearms according to the U.S. constitution. Arbitrary and restrictive laws on gun ownership violate those principles. In the absence of effective firearms, I do not trust the police to defend us in the case of a dire emergency or even in day-to day life. I have been threatened, sneered at, and physically hurt by police in Washington State. Two SPD officers participated in the storming of the US Capitol on January 6, 2021. More Americans were killed by police in 2022 than any previous year on record. So why is it that the police deserve to carry AR-15 rifles and I do not? Is my life less precious than theirs? I do not believe so.’

Now, the rationale of those supporting this bill and likely the thoughts of some committee members right now is that it is law enforcement's job to intervene in such instances. That is a fatally flawed assumption.

Federal courts up to and including the supreme court have ruled repeatedly that the police have no constitutional duty to protect citizens who are not in custody, (DeShaney vs. Winnebago, 1989[3]; Town of Castle Rock vs. Gonzales, 2004 [4]), and if you're a homicide victim, there's a 1 in 3 chance that police won't even identify a suspect[6], and as of 2020, about a 50% chance that your murderer will be convicted[7]. We're left to conclude that we must keep ourselves safe.

This bill claims this is a public health emergency but in 2022 in WA more people were killed by police than in mass shootings and despite being 13th in gun sales nationwide, WA was 39th in gun violence in 2022.The FBI notes that in 2019, about 2.5% of all murders were committed with rifles of any kind, less than 1/4 of what was committed with knives [8].

https://gunresponsibility.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/05/2022WA-GV.pdf Those numbers hardly constitute a public health crisis.

However, attempting to reduce gun violence is a worthwhile endeavor. Over the course of decades, study after study have concluded that the greatest indicator for violent crime and gun violence is economic circumstance. Poverty. This bill does not attempt to address the cause of gun violence. It is merely a misguided and ultimately ineffective attempt to address a symptom.

Passage of this bill would merely be a pyrrhic victory for democrats. Doing nothing to address the cause or symptoms of violent crime while providing ammunition for conservatives to campaign against vulnerable seats locally and nationwide. It would force more citizens to rely on ineffective and untrustworthy law enforcement while ignoring the scary but undeniable fact that ultimately, we keep us safe.”

#gun control #washington #washington state #socialist rifle association #assault weapons #politics

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dollarbin · 1 year

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Dollar Bin #17:

Ian Matthews' If You Saw Thro' My Eyes

I had big plans for this weekend's post. My famous brother has been jawing of late about how I will kneel in perpetual penance before Stephen Stills' altar of jock rock greatness the moment I listen to a Manassas record and I will then declare Stills a rock and roll god. One would think my brother is famous for devilry and nonsense.

Indeed, so confident am I that Stills will forever suck that earlier this week I got down on the weathered floor of my local dollar bin (they know what they're doing in my local shop: all of Stills' records are relegated to a neglected, ground level cardboard box, while The Incredible String Band section towers at chest height over Stephen's treasure chest of trash) and hauled out their cheapest copy of Manassas's debut double album (there were plenty of copies to choose from; no one wants to own Stephen Stills records).

My grand plan was to spend a glorious Friday afternoon playing a drinking game of my own invention wherein I'd drink every time I heard a note that did not suck in Manassas's monster ode to mediocrity and I'd admit to each chug in print. I had no fears about a hangover heading into this adventure; I knew I'd emerge stone cold sober.

Fair Reader, I extend to you my sincerest apologies. You'll simply have to wait, with baited breath, for that future entry. The truth is that moments after gleefully cracking open a cold one and dropping the needle on Side 1 of Stills' pretentious piece of pomposity I heard Stephen open his crack (I honestly could not tell which it was, face or ass) and realized I did not have the spirit for it.

Simply put, the very real terror being inflicted upon our fellow humans in Gaza and Israel makes the musical terror Stills inflicts upon us both unfunny and utterly incidental. Please join me in praying for the safety of all innocent people now living in war zones, most especially the children in harm's way.

So, at least for now, I propose that we put off any further pulverization of the guy who thought it was a great idea to name his new band after the Confederacy's first and greatest victory in the Civil War.

Instead, let's consider some fragile and largely unappreciated beauty by spending time on Ian Matthews' first and greatest solo record, If You Saw Thro' My Eyes.

Nick Drake and Sandy Denny both hold and deserve sainted status in the history of popular song. Almost 50 years after their tragic deaths they remain the yin and yang of cosmic British folk music, their all too brief careers forever marking them as the only true peers we have to Neil Young and Joni Mitchell. Of course all four artists owe a heavy debt to Dylan, but each was also consistently capable of creating something Dylan, for all his greatness, has often chased after fruitlessly: beauty.

A consummate recognizer of genius, Joe Boyd saw Sandy Denny sharing the stage with Matthews in Fairport Convention in 69 and understood all of this. So he decided that Ian Matthews needed to take a hike. Denny and her almost equally talented bandmate, Richard Thompson, both loved Matthews but agreed with Boyd; so Matthews got his walking papers, leaving Sandy gloriously alone before the microphone.

Everybody knows the more famous version of this story: George Harrison similarly traded in his forever bronze medal in The Beatles then went on to make the truly Olympian All Things Must Pass.

But Matthews story is a bit more complicated. Rather than settling down and producing a masterpiece, Matthews acted like a restless, slightly panicked (but still quite handsome!) toad, jumping from scheme to scheme. Between 69 and 74 he founded two entirely separate bands (Matthews Southern Comfort and Plainsong) and put out 7 (!) albums. All are Dollar Bin winners, but only one, 71's curiously spelled If You Saw Thro' My Eyes, is transcendent art.

So let's talk about it!

A good introduction is the album's second track, Hearts.

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Matthews is not considered a songwriting genius; after this record he increasingly turned to covering other artists. But here he shows early equal promise to Young; indeed it's great to listen to Hearts alongside Young's equally tender track Birds, which was recorded just a year earlier. Both songs portray young men setting aside the bruising and dumb elements of their assigned and culturally dominent gender; indeed it's hilarious to compare these songs' equally androginus yearnings with the way an artist like Young was marketed at the time. Just look at the image below.

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All he needs is a bullwhip, a fedora and a groveling look of worship from the babe on his hip to complete the image. But there's no macho macho man to be found in either of these lovely songs, and the gesture is missing from every note of If You Saw Thro' My Eyes.

Even so, there are plenty of men making music on this record and they all shred. That's none other than Richard Thompson you hear bubbling and bending on lead guitar all the way through Hearts, and he is a full contributor throughout the record, lending his unmistakable tone and gesture in ways that are frankly more successful than his contributions to Drake's first two records. Richard may have given Matthews the boot, but the two guys still literally lived together in the same house and clearly understood one another's gifts.

And then there's Keith Tippett. My famous brother will now crawl out from under his Stills' shaped rock of shame to shake his fist at me in exasperation when I admit that I know nothing about this guy. But he's clearly some kind of genius. Listen to his quavering, elemental piano work alongside Thompson's guitar on Never Ending.

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Seriously, why did the 74 zillion people buy Tea For the Tillerman then skip on this record?

And that's none other than Sandy Denny playing the harmonium behind Thompson and Tippett. While in Fairport together, Denny and Matthews either traded off vocals masterfully, as in the band's version of Suzanne, harmonized conventionally around one another or stood to one side altogether while the other sang.

But on this album's title track, If You Saw Thro' My Eyes, they finally learn to lean in together. Like lovers, friends or even enemies, they perch on the opposite banks of some terrible chasm, reaching out palm to palm over the breach to hold one another up. High above turbulent seas we listen as they leave the land and soar away, taking us with them.

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I hope all of you are safe, and I hope you can find some way to reach out in love and peace to someone else this weekend. Even if it's Stephen Stills.

#ian matthews #sandy denny #richard thompson #stephen stills still sucks #Youtube #https://doomandgloomfromthetomb.tumblr.com/

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dandelion-sugar · 3 years

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𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐟𝐞 『Adam x Reader』

Summary: Reader was Adam's first wife before he married Eve.

Warning: Angst, a little fluff, death, deities are really cruel

15,8k

Author's note: Requests for Genshin have not been forgotten! I'm working on it BUT I just finished season one of Record of Ragnarok and needed to write about Adam. I think he deserves more writing about him...he's the best husband and father Earth could have!

"A demoness? A succubus? No! A human whose legends turn her into a fearsome ruler of the underworld! She rules an entire army with an iron fist! Made of the clay of creation, she is made in the image of the gods! N°00000000002 : Lilith!" shouted Heimdall to announce your entrance.

You have been chosen to save humanity. The creation of Adam and Eve. You don't know why Brunhilde trusts you to save the humans. What could she possibly have been thinking in choosing you? Were you the best choice for this? Protecting the beings conceived by your ex-husband and his new wife. Unlike your ex-lover, you refuse to walk around naked. Your body is far too precious to be revealed to the world. You stand in the middle of the arena waiting patiently for Heimdall to finish presenting your opponent.

Your eyes rest on your army led by your only son. The only being you have ever given birth to. The third human born. A slight smile appeared on your lips. Your son resembled his father, and you found that particularly funny. You couldn't help but think that Adam's genes were particularly strong. But the way your son stood proudly at the head of your army...he took that from you. Even if you were to perish in this fight, you know that your army and your son will come through.

Your right hand will be around the shaft of your spear. You hear the mocking laughter of the gods, announcing your crushing defeat. You hear the hesitant whispers of humans about your place among the fighters of humanity. You are known in human legends to be a danger to pregnant women and newborns. To be honest with yourself, you hate this legends. You are a mother, how can humans think that you would harm a woman and her child? Your eyes drop slightly to the floor and your lips pucker into an unpleasant pout. After a few seconds, your face frees itself of all displays of emotion and your hand rises to challenge Heimdall.

"Yes, Lilith?" asks the god who has the role of announcer.

"I will not fight under that name," you announce.

"Huh?" he blurts out in surprise.

"I will not fight under the name of the monster the humans wanted to make me," you reply immediately.

"So...what do you want to be called?"

Lying in a meadow, you enjoy the sun and the soft breeze on your bare skin. Rabbits and foxes quickly surround you to enjoy the comfort with you. Everything is perfect in the Garden of Eden. A shadow covers your face, forcing you to open your eyes to discover the obstacle between you and the sun. It is a pleasant surprise when you discover your husband's welcoming smile, his blonde locks framing his face. Adam sits down beside you, placing his fruit basket between his legs. He pulls out a bunch of grapes and takes one between his long fingers. He then brings the fruit to your lips to let you savour the sweet, pleasant taste of the fruit. A sigh of contentment crosses your lips. Your husband's smile widens as he notices your relaxed state.

"You have grape juice running down your chin, Lilith," Adam informs you.

Your eyelids droop slightly as your eyes express your displeasure. Adam only lets a laugh emit from his throat as he leans forward to lick the grape juice off. Your hand gently but firmly pushes him away. You want him to understand that his gestures of affection will not be tolerated again until he realises his mistake. And you know perfectly well that he has understood what he has done.

"Stop teasing me," you say, a frown appearing on your face.

"I like to see your eyebrows furrow. You look like that kitten that was trying to scare us." replies Adam, running his hand over your hip stroking it in lazy circles, as if to soothe you.

"But unlike that kitten, I can bite," you reply sharply.

"I know you can..." he hums in the hollow of your ear. "Y/N."

This memory was a moment of pure happiness that you experienced in the Garden of Eden before you were forced into exile. This name you chose with Adam was the beginning of your independence from the gods. You had never accepted the principle of being subject to a man and Adam always supported you in this choice. But the gods did not like this and in response you abandoned the name they gave you at your creation. Perhaps this is why Eve was created from Adam's rib? To prevent her from becoming like you.

"Y/N. Call me that," you proudly announce.

The gods of your creation frown but do not protest. They hope that you will perish against one of their own and that your soul will disintegrate in space and time.

Adam had slipped out of the room where he was locked up. When he learned of your presence here, he did not expect you to fight for the humans. The children he had with another woman. He snuck into the bleachers to get a better look at your figure. A sense of nostalgia stirs in his heart as he sees that you haven't changed in all this time. You stand with dignity, your weapon in hand. You are strong and independent, you have become the woman you always dreamed of. A woman you could not have become if you were in his company because...everyone wants his wife to be submissive to him.

Adam does not regret his married life with Eve, he enjoys it too. But he has enjoyed the life he has lived with you. He believes in your victory. He wants you to win. He does not want to witness your complete disappearance from the universe without any chance of reincarnation. Your first separation has already split his heart in two, Adam does not want to experience this intense pain a second time.

You swing your divine spear with one hand, deflecting your opponent's first blow. The strength in this attack was not worthy of a god, was he testing your abilities? Your eyes meet. The victorious and arrogant smile on the god's face already irritates you. He underestimated you because you are a human AND a woman. His leg comes to sweep over yours but you manage to dodge by gaining height. You position your spear, blade towards the ground to pierce his skull. The god quickly dodges in a backward leap, leaving you to land on the ground, puncturing the concrete floor which cracks under the impact.

Your exchange of blows lasts for a while. Or should we say: the god throws blows at you that you deflect with your spear. But suddenly, his paterne changes. The force that the god uses becomes more powerful. His leg comes to meet your stomach. You prevent the blow from reaching your skin by placing your spear between your stomach and his leg. Unfortunately, the attack sends you flying a few metres away. You manage to land with difficulty and before you can regain a stable footing, the god launches himself at you. You are forced to fall to the side in a roll to narrowly dodge the punch. Your cheek begins to bleed.

"Mother!" your distraught son shouts.

"Commander! Get up!" your soldiers shout to encourage you.

You let out a breath, your muscles relax, making your movements more fluid and lively. Your eyes fall on the figure of your opponent. The aura around you changes completely, causing the small smile on the god's face to disappear. Your hands grip the spear and your feet anchor themselves to the ground to give you a good foothold.

"Answer my question before we resume this fight. Why are you fighting for the humans?" the god asks.

"Do I need a reason to fight? The gods have forced me to be submissive and men have clothed me in a veil of monstrous lies. It's like choosing between the plague and cholera," you explain. "But I had to choose and I chose my ex-husband's children.

The humans observing the exchange begin to stir, either out of guilt or because they were moved by your story. Humans get teary-eyed easily, you think. But you can't help but find this side of them very touching. Perhaps it was a good thing that Eve was the Mother of humanity?

"Humans have the will to survive and a strength that allows them to constantly evolve. This is a strength that the gods can never possess," you say with contempt.

Your hatred for the gods is much stronger than your hatred for humans. On your words, the fight resumes. You manage to follow your opponent's movements. Like Adam, you were forged from clay in the image of the gods. You are Adam's equal, you have the same ability as him to copy the techniques you see. Your movements remind the gods of Athena. You had copied the movements of this goddess a long time ago.

Your body and that of your opponent are covered in blood. You are bleeding from the wounds inflicted on you, but you were able to avenge yourself by seriously injuring your opponent as well.

Adam clenches his lips into a thin line, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands but he still believes in your victory. You must win. You can't give him up a second time...you can't.

"They've created a second wife for you," you scream indignantly.

"You're the only one for me," Adam admits in an attempt to calm your nerves. He can't bear to see you cry.

"It's only a matter of time before the gods kick me out of the Garden of Eden! I don't understand their desire to have me submit to male authority! Do goddesses submit to male deities?" you growl in frustration. The anger was so strong that you can't hold back the tears.

"If they chase you away then I'll go with you," Adam announces, interlacing your fingers together.

A soft warmth spreads through your chest as a gasp of surprise passes through your lips. A slight blush marks your cheeks as you look away from your husband. You can't help but enjoy the tender feeling. Adam wraps his muscular arms around you in a soothing embrace. His scent calms your restless nerves.

"Spend the night with me tonight," you whisper.

"We always sleep together," he says, tilting his head to the side, not understanding the meaning of your words.

"Adam..." you gasp shyly. It almost sounded like a soft moan.

His blue eyes widen slightly as the implied request is processed by his brain. A teasing smile spreads across his face as he leans in to your blushing ear to whisper provocative words.

That was the last evening you spent in his company before the gods kidnapped you and threw you away from the Garden of Eden. You never tried to return to that place, you knew it wasn't possible. So you did your best to survive. You were able to thrive and enjoy your newfound independence.

That night Adam gave you a gift, your son: Eurynome. A child identical to his father, who grew up with you as his only role model. He has become an independent young man capable of leading an army. But he remains a child... a child afraid to be alone without the reassuring presence of his mother.

It is impossible to understand the pain of losing a parent when you have not experienced it. No one could understand a tenth of the pain of Eurynome's scream as the god's fist plunges into your chest.

Your eyes crinkle under the sudden fatigue your body feels. Your right hand struggles to hold the spear. The humans weep in despair as the gods celebrate the downfall of Lilith, the woman who did not obey divine orders.

Nausea takes hold of Adam's body. All that blood, your blood spilling on the floor. Will you die? Disappear forever...you don't even know that he witnessed your fight. You will never know that he missed you terribly. You will never know that he wanted to feel your warmth in his arms again and whisper those three words to you.

Your eyes linger on your son's tear-streaked face. A peaceful smile appears on your lips. A fire of determination shines in your eyes. Your hand tightens around the spear and you slice the god's jugular before collapsing to your knees. If you must die...then you will prevent the gods from achieving a victory as well.

Your eyes slowly close and your hearing becomes increasingly blurred. The voices are now just an indistinguishable din.

Adam could only watch as your body and the god's dematerialize into a smoke of green glitter. His legs move towards the battlefield as if trying to retrieve the flakes that represent your soul dissolving into space. But your son's crying snaps him out of his trance. His eyes fall on a miniature version of himself.

Cain and Abel have some characteristics of their father but Eurynome is a carbon copy of Adam and you would have to be blind not to notice. Adam walks over to your son and takes him in his arms, sharing his pain. Adam fully understands the tug of war that Eurynome feels.

That night Adam gave you a gift, your son. Today, this gift will show the world that you existed. That you are not like your legends.

You are an independent woman, a mother and Adam's wife.

"Adam," you call to your husband, who is perched on a tree branch.

"Yes?" he hums, keeping his eyes closed.

"Don't you think I'm strange?" you finally question him. "Do you think I owe you obedience too?

Silence passes between the two of you. A pain assails your heart at this lack of response and you instantly regret having asked him the question. The disappointment was much stronger than you had thought. You look up abruptly when you hear a thud only a few feet away. Adam had just jumped from his branch. His back was to you. He turns towards you, his face devoid of emotion. He encircles your cheeks with his warm palms. His piercing blue eyes almost seem to probe your soul and you struggle to hold his gaze. But your desire to know the answer prevents you from looking away.

"We are husband and wife, I accept you as you are. Don't change for the world, for anyone," Adam says with conviction.

"So...you love me like this?" you ask aloud, wanting to sound confident.

Adam looks at you slightly surprised at this sudden question. He hums softly before leaning in to kiss your forehead. The smile he flashes makes your heart race.

"I love you," he says.

"I love you too..." you admit after a few moments.

#record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #ror adam #Angst #shumatsu no valkyrie #Adam #x reader #ror adam x reader

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thebibliosphere · 5 years

Note

ADHD reward system? Please tell me your secret!

My therapist has been helping me find a reward system that works for me, and as it turns out, gold star stickers are really helpful for making me feel like a tangible goal was met, and helps give me that sweet, sweet dopamine release that comes with completing a task, something which us ADHD’ers really struggle to achieve and are already coming at from a disadvantage with our brains regularly not producing enough “happy” hormones as it is.

It was supposed to be “a sticker for every time you finish a chapter”, but after some revision, my therapist said that was too tall of a goal, and that I should pick something smaller. So instead I now get a star every time I finish a 500-word milestone, placing the sticker in my writing calendar/journal thing that I use to keep track of my writing, and ironically, I have started to produce more work than when I was stiving for one chapter a day.

To give you an idea of how staggeringly effective this has been for me, I’ve written over 30k of original fiction in the last week. (75k total if you include my social media and blog stuff, which I currently do not but likely should.)

So this is what it looked like when I was attempting to do a chapter of edits and revisions a day during the month of December 2019 (note: I was supposed to start this in Nov, so you can see how well that worked out for me lol):

ID: A calendar showing days of the month with a shiny star sticker showing a completed task.

And this is what my writing journal looks like now that I’m doing a star for every 500 words:

ID: an image of a handwritten journal with the dates mapped out, followed by a shiny star sticker for every completed 500-word milestone. There are 65 stars in total for the month of January 2020. It’s also tinged by a green light cause I’m doing a chronic pain experiment, so far with positive results!

So as of today, January 8th, with ever star = 500 words, then 65*500 = 32500 words totalled in 7 days. This does not include, like I said, my social media output where I am far more productive, this is just my fiction and some editing work for friends.

(Which side note: this is not to flex, or to say that others should be able to achieve this level of output. I am a professional writer, this is my main job and only source of income. And also, I was forged in the fires of understaffed editing hell where we would be expected to churn out 100k+ a week in edits and revisions to keep on track. I have the time and a learned skillset I have spent years amassing to be able to do this and am working towards a rigid deadline. I simply have not been healthy enough in a long time to manage it, and am finally working my way back up to speed after years of illness. Don’t look at this and think, “I’m not achieving enough”, every victory no matter how small is worth celebrating. And I say that with the utmost sincerity, as someone who spent most of the last 2-3 years unable to get out of bed.)

I’ve also started using it to help keep track of bills and chores around the home. So every time something gets done/done on time, whoever completed the task gets a star on the calendar. This includes Oppy the Not-A-Roomba, who does a very good job of taking care of the house on a daily basis:

ID: an image of a chore calendar denoting various tasks that have been marked off with a holographic silver star sticker, including our robot vacuum who does an excellent job and deserves all the stars. (Our names got blurred out cause ETD doesn’t want his real name out there in the world, so that’s what is blurry.)

This system is useful for several reasons, the primary one being a sense of achievement and continued motivation, and the second, to allow you to review each month to see where you are doing well, and where you might otherwise be struggling.

For example, if I have a bad day for writing or decide to take a day off, I write that down in the calendar rather than leaving it blank, so that I have a record of what went wrong (or right, if I am electing to self care that day and take a day off) and how my overall progress is doing.

In terms of house stuff, this has been especially useful for ETD and myself, as it shows us where we are managing to do a good job with the house, and where our executive dysnfunction issues really trip us up and where we need to make improvements. And I don’t just mean in an “I should try harder way”, I mean you have to actively sit down and be like “hey! What is preventing me from completing this thing” and trying to figure out effective ways to either get around it or resolve a larger issue at hand.

So for us, the biggest thing we tend to miss is doing dishes after dinner, meaning we get left with a pile-up of dishes to deal with first thing in the morning, and my ADHD can’t handle that. It won’t let me eat until I’ve cleared all the mess, but I usually don’t have the energy to clean up if I haven’t eaten, so it’s this awful cycle of ineptitude. We’re doing better with the star reward system, cause it’s showing us our progress loud and clear on the fridge door, but we are both usually so fatigued and exhausted by the end of dinner that doing dishes is just one thing too many for our mutual disorders. So, the solution for this would, of course, be a dishwasher, cause if we had one of those, we could load stuff in, turn it on, and let those dishes get done while we go to bed then put them away in the morning. We can’t afford to do that right now, and we have other appliances we need to buy/replace before we can do that (still don’t have a tumble dryer, or a washer I can access, rip) but it does give us a tangible goal to work toward, and also, the motivation to keep on top of things because it goes from “an endless task with no end in sight” to “there’s a solution for this, we can manage a while longer.”

Now you could be saying, but Joy, I’m an adult! Surely I shouldn’t expect rewards for completing every day tasks that I should be able to do?!

To which I say, neurotypical people get rewards all the time and get an unconscious dose of dopamine/serotonin from their brains every time they complete a task. They’re playing the game of life on easy mode, the gold star is your achievement for completing it daily on Nintendo 99 hard mode. IF THE STICKER WORKS, TAKE THE STICKER

YOU’VE EARNED IT.

#kaitokenji37 #adhd #adult adhd #adhd reward system #life hacks #adhd hacks #personal #okay to reblog

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feedthefandomfest · 3 months

Text

Comment Bingo (Original Edition)

Very simple rules: connect 5 squares in a line by completing the task in each square

Very simple goals: encourage readers to comment on fics; encourage fandom writers to KEEP WRITING

(reposted so a cleaned up version links back here rather than my main blog)

STEPS:

Download Bingo Card HERE (png) or HERE (jpg) or HERE (pdf)

Complete the tasks on the card, marking off each as you go, until you've completed 5 in a line (vertical, horizontal, or diagonal; NO double-dipping; kudos ♥️ is a free space)

POST your winning card (or list your filled squares) and tag @feedthefandomfest! Glory in your victory.

REWARD:

✨ victory badges ✨

Tag me when you earn a bingo (or double, triple, quadruple... FULL CARD bingo) and I'll reblog a shiny badge with your name on it to commemorate the win.

FAQ:

Can I comment on tumblr or only on AO3?

Either one is great! The tags are drawn from AO3, but most can be adjusted to suit tumblr as well, so I say go for it. Tumblr fics deserve love, too.

Can one comment count toward multiple squares if the fic fits more than one category?

Since the goal is for as many fics to receive comments as possible, try to comment on a different fic for each square.

Is there a time limit?

Nope! Take your time or set your own deadline, whatever works for you. This blog is still in its early experimental stage, so feedback welcome. Play around and let me know what you like and what might be added/changed—including ideas for squares on future cards!

Do I have to record progress on the actual card?

Nope! If it’s easier to keep track in a different way, that’s fine. This is all very honor system, so if you say you earned a Bingo, we’ll call it a win 🎉

Can I adjust the task in a particular square to suit my comfort level?

In general, so long as each square has produced at least one comment, you’re golden and I salute you 🫡

Happy commenting!!

#been meaning to do this for ages #only card that was posted on my main rather than here #NOT A NEW CARD SORRY #just tidied up version of original post #comment bingo #feed the fandom fest

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bacarasbabe · 3 years

Note

HELLO BEAUTIFUL TESS, the line in [Rec] where it says Rex was “shy to ask you for this” uhhh if you feel like it, I would love to see exactly how shy he was from his POV please? x

Ask me to write a scene from one of my fics from a different character's pov

This was such a good idea Sam! I hope you like this. 💖

Here's a link to [Rec]. If you haven't read it, I highly suggest you read that first before continuing on as this is a direct prequel.

Pairing: Captain Rex x Female Reader

Rating: M

Tags: Mentions of sex, mentions of recording sexual activities, grinding, cursing

Word Count: 1k+

Summary: This is the discussion the reader has with Rex that leads to the events of Rec*.

Courage is not a quality Rex lacks. He has braved hundreds of battles, leading thousands of his brothers to either victory or death, and he will do so again. And yet, Rex has encountered nothing – no other thing in the galaxy apart from your voice that makes his heart race and his hands tremble. Your visage, while beautiful, was not what makes him weak, or nervous, or whatever feeling you could call this. But who you are, and who you are alone is what brings Rex to his knees. Beauty could be appreciated by anyone but being allowed to know you, being given the opportunity to fall in love with you was a gift bestowed upon him that Rex could hardly believe he was given.

“Rex?” The sound of his name coming from your lips is the only way he wants to hear his name for the rest of his life. He's pulled back to the moment, sitting in your tiny apartment that a luxury compared to his quarters back on base. Hyper aware of how close he's sitting next to you on your couch. The lights are dimmed and the bright lights of speeders streak by the window, reminding him of stars flashing by while traveling through hyperspace. But instead of the cold military star ship, he's with you. Warm and relaxed if not a little nervous about what he wants to ask.

“Well, mesh'la. I, ah, was wandering—” The smile you give him stops his train of thought mid-sentence. Everything disappears from him except for the sound of his name when you say it and the thought of pressing a kiss to your soft lips. “I—I was thinking,” His throat is dry and he can feel the tension in his shoulders as he holds himself back. Determined to ask, to make sure it’s okay before acting on what he so badly wants to do. But he can’t control the way his thoughts quickly spiral into nothing and everything all at once as you lean in close.

Nose brushing against his own, your hand comes up to rest above his pounding heart. The thundering rhythm only concealed by the thin barrier of his blacks. He grips his helmet, seated on his lap, tighter. Just ask her the kriffing question. Just ask her. He wants to so bad but then he sees your gaze drop to his lips before coming back up to look him in the eye and all he can do is swallow his words.

Rex hardly notices when you take his helmet from his grasp. He gives it to you easily, whatever you want, no questions asked. His strong hands instinctively come to rest on either side of your waist as you take the space that was previously occupied. Your thighs and calves squeeze his legs as you straddle his lap. “Do you want me to wear this?” You offer coyly, holding his helmet in one hand while the other that's wrapped around his shoulder traces indecipherable patterns on the back of his neck. A shiver runs down his spine and his cock twitches at the implication he hears in your question. Do you want me to wear this while you fuck me? Kriff, you're perfect. He can't fathom what he's done to deserve a girl as perfect as you. And while fucking you while you wear his helmet is an idea he most definitely wants to explore in the near future, tonight he feels even more selfish.

If he can’t bring you with him, he wants more than just the holopics he keeps stored away for lonely nights. He's not thinking about the sweet ones. The ones he shows off to his vode where your smile is bright and your arms are wrapped around his waist while he holds you. No, he's thinking about the ones he keeps away from prying eyes. The ones where you're bare, stretched out with hooded eyes and mussed hair. The ones he uses late at night when you're the only thing he wants to think about. When he’s too far away to com you, to hear your voice, to hear the shape of his name only you can provide. He knows it's selfish but your offer has him gathering strength. He grips you tighter. Fingers pressing in, he's unable to keep himself from pressing you tightly to his chest.

"No," his voice seems husky to even himself, but he can't help it when he's got you here, right on the precipice of what he can feel the evening turning into. "I was thinking I could wear it," he pauses for just a brief moment to savor the sound of your breath hitching. He wants to memorize every noise you'll give him. "And use the recording function built into the visor."

The look on your face has Rex's cock swelling. He didn't need to hear the breathy "Yes" you hiss into his mouth to know that your answer is in the affirmative, but he loves it all the same. He pulls you down, grinding your panty clad pussy against his restrained cock, rolling his hips to help relieve the pressure as he kisses you back. His tongue has only begun to taste you when you pull away, too quickly for him to chase your lips and his vision is momentarily obscured as you bring the helmet over his head.

Immediately, Rex turns on the display and engages the recording function. In the brief few seconds he lost sight of you, Rex realizes you've leaned your forehead against his helmet. He feels your shiver of anticipation and he refuses to keep either one of you waiting any longer. He finds the hem of your sleep shirt, working his hands underneath so he can caress the smooth expanse of your back. From under his helmet Rex watches as your mouth drops open and your eyes roll as you begin to writhe on his lap. The urge to kiss you is overwhelming but he knows it'll be worth it in the end.

A low rumble forms in his chest as Rex let's his hands wander under your clothes. He gently squeezes a breast, rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The sensation causes you to arch into his touch, pressing your breast firmly in his grasp. Your gasp of pleasure as Rex continues his ministrations, fogs the front of his visor. Jaig eyes and brown eyes alike are trained on your face.

"What do you want to record, Rex?" The question is easy for him to answer.

"Everything."

---------

Masterlist

#rex x you #rex x reader #captain rex #captain rex x you #captain rex x reader #captain rex smut #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #the clone wars smut #zinzinina #ask game #bacarasbabe

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neoculturetravesty · 3 years

Text

We met in online class - Part 9

Image adapted from here.

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, angst, fluff Warnings: Strong language, fist fight, a character has Covid-19 Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: So proud of the boys for breaking records with Hot Sauce 🥺💛 Also, Eid Mubarak to all who celebrate!

Renjun is ashamed to be surprised, but his friends remain true to their word.

That night, Renjun slept for what he’s sure was a good fourteen hours. Because by the time he woke, it was way in the afternoon. Jaemin was already back from his shift and Jeno was almost halfway through his. Jisung had insisted that Renjun get some more rest before he had to take over. It was a tiny bit disconcerting to have Jisung hovering over him the entire day to make sure he was eating and feeling okay, but Renjun had to admit--this was exactly what he needed. He didn’t like who he was when he was alone.

The boys had apparently even created a dedicated group chat where they would post updates and a list of things that were required at the hospital. Not that there was much required, anyway. But the boys would make sure that at the very least, Renjun’s mom had fresh clothes and home cooked food everyday while she couldn’t get out herself. Jaemin had even taken Renjun’s phone and gotten it fixed so he at least had a proper screen instead of a cracked one.

Even when Renjun was sure that he could take over on his own, the boys wouldn’t allow it. On many occasions, he had just stayed by them during their turns, thankful for their company and their friendship. Because who else in this world would spend their semester break in this fashion? He’s pretty sure they had plans; but they had forsaken them all to be there for him.

Renjun has no idea how it happens, but slowly and surely, things start to get better. He’s pretty certain it has to be some sort of a miracle. Like a little break of sunshine had finally decided to shine on him through the dark clouds. Like somehow, his guardian angel had decided that it had slacked off for long enough and now it should give Renjun a break. Because one day, the doctors tell them that Renjun’s grandmother will be a lot weaker for the next few days to come… but with a lot of care and attention, she should be ready to go home. They echo Renjun’s thoughts and tell them that it is nothing short of a miracle, but also that he should be thankful that his grandmother is still young and has a fighting spirit.

The day she is taken off of life support and brought into another room with a window through which he can see her, Renjun can’t hold himself back. He hugs onto Jaemin so tight and cries happy tears, and Jaemin holds him back just as strong, though he’s sure that he’s so overwhelmed by relief that he’s putting all of his weight onto the boy. But Jaemin doesn’t relent and holds onto him and lets him cry tears of joy into his shoulder.

The boys head home that night and laugh till they cry and celebrate Renjun’s grandma’s life and health. They eat like they had been hungry for days and slump their shoulders in ease like they had been keeping them tense for too long. They laugh and they sit together and keep letting out long sighs of relief, as if each breath was undoing a knot in their chest. It’s a sweet, victorious sort of a happy moment, and it is Jeno who has to remind them they need to focus now more than ever so that Renjun’s grandma can get her strength back and finally test negative. And it is an important reminder because the new semester is about to begin soon and given classes, they will have to redo their hospital visit schedules.

At the very least, they learn that the new semester would begin online, because the sudden surge in Covid cases had led them to another lockdown. Renjun’s not sure whether he should be happy or upset about it. On the one hand, he thinks this lockdown should’ve happened earlier so his grandma would’ve never gotten sick in the first place. On the other hand, he is happy that his grandma would now be safe and recover comfortably.

When classes begin and Renjun finds all his housemates at home, his heart drops a little and he wonders if he should just skip today. But an amused Jeno mutes himself during his online class and stops him.

“You have other friends, too, you know?” Jeno cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, but I’m sure they have classes, too. Plus, the four of us have been doing this from the beginning, so… I don’t know…” Renjun says, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling a bit nervous about leaving his mother and grandma on their own without help. But Jeno looks at him like he’s talking gibberish.

“Dude. Not the four of us. All seven of us have been doing this from the very beginning.” Jeno says, eyebrow still cocked, looking at Renjun like he’s sure he’s lost his mind.

Renjun looks up and for a moment, he is sure his face looks dumb. Because if the buffering wheel was a human expression, Renjun’s certain he’s wearing it now. “All… seven?”

“Do you even check the group chat? Chenle and Mark and Donghyuck. They’ve all been doing their duty from Day 1, you idiot. How else would the rest of us come home so early?” Jeno scoffs and laughs a bit, knotting his eyebrows at his clueless friend.

For a moment, Renjun is silenced. Because he doesn’t know how to process this information. He feels a swell in his chest. A sort of happiness that only true friendship brings. But at the same time, he feels an incredible pang of guilt, because for one, he is an asshole that keeps underestimating the said friendship. And for the other, he had done absolutely nothing to be deserving of such love.

“Dong… Donghyuck, too?” Renjun asks and he feels his heart breaking, though even in this surreal moment of realization, he recognizes how strange it is to feel heartbreak over something like this.

“Of course, you idiot. Donghyuck was the one that stayed at the hospital the entire first night when you were asleep.” Jeno tells him and smacks him lightly on the head.

And for the first time in his life, Renjun actually feels what it is like to have his head physically hang in shame. “I don’t deserve it.” he sighs.

“I really don’t understand you sometimes, Huang Renjun.” Jeno says and turns his attention back to his class.

“What do you mean?” Renjun retorts.

“Just because friends have a dumb fight, doesn’t mean they abandon each other in times of need.” Jeno states like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

It should be simple and obvious, everything Jeno has said. But to Renjun, it is groundbreaking. Because Renjun wasn’t used to being loved and cared for without condition. In his dark and convoluted view of the world, everything was give and take. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. But here they were--his friends that were shattering all of those dumbass beliefs. Telling him that although he had been a grade A asshole and punched them in the face, they understood that he was going through some shit, and that taking care of his sick grandmother trumped all other childish grudges. Renjun realizes that perhaps, he was the most childish out of all his friends. Somewhere in his turbulent childhood, he might have skipped a lot of emotional development. Because why else would the kindness and love of his friends shock him so?

Jeno peeks over the top of his laptop and watches Renjun deep in thought, paying no attention to his own class. “He’s at the hospital right now.” Jeno says knowingly.

And that’s all Renjun needs to hear before he slams his laptop shut and makes his way out.

The fact that Renjun is probably a few steps behind in his emotional development is solidified when he sits next to Donghyuck on a park bench and suddenly finds himself at a loss for what to say.

The rush of blood and adrenaline he had felt in his veins leaving his house for his apology tour seemed to have faded when he saw his friend’s face. Donghyuck had been sitting next to Renjun’s father, but that hadn’t been the bothersome part. It was the fact that his friend was sitting there for him, but with a black eye that Renjun had given him.

In the grand scheme of healing black eyes, Donghyuck definitely looked less hurt than the last time Renjun had seen him. The purples were mostly gone, leaving behind hues of yellow and a speck of blue here and there. Though he may have been healing, there were more colors on him than before and that’s what made him look worse. That’s also the part that makes Renjun feel most ashamed. His friend was here for him even though he looked like shit thanks to him.

Renjun is sure that on the list of top ten assholes of the world, he would find his own name on top.

But sitting next to Donghyuck outside in the fresh air, he has no idea what to say. He thinks real hard and decides to start in the safe zone.

“Did the guys tell you? About my grandma?” he asks.

“Um, no. It was Jimin.” Donghyuck replies awkwardly.

Renjun nods. “I, uh… I told the guys like a day later, though. Did you tell them before I did?”

“No, um… I was at a party with the 127s… I didn’t see her text till like the next day either, so…” Donghyuck trails off.

Renjun nods again, then swallows. It’s so strange, how awkward this all is. It is unsettling because Donghyuck is the least awkward person he knows, and he hates that this weird zone is where their relationship seems to be heading.

Not if he can help it.

In another rush of dumbass adrenaline, Renjun gets up abruptly and stands before Donghyuck.

“Go on. Do it.” Renjun says and takes a deep breath.

“Huh?” Donghyuck looks at his friend quizzically.

“Do it. Just make it quick.” Renjun nods with determination and points at his face.

“You’re crazy.” Donghyuck states and slides further away on the bench, eyebrows raised, and a grimace on his mouth.

“Just do it, man. Do it so we can move on.” Renjun says, placing both hands on his waist and squeezing his eyes shut.

“I’m not going to punch you so you can move on, you psycho.” Donghyuck’s face is contorted, like he’s scandalized and perhaps even slightly scared of his friend.

“Come on, Donghyuckie. Just punch me and get it over with.” Renjun waves his hand impatiently, not relenting.

“Are you not hearing me, you crazy? I’m not punching you just to make you feel better!” Donghyuck almost yells.

And because Renjun is pretty sure this would work, he grabs at Donghyuck’s collar just to provoke him.

“What the fuck?!” Donghyuck tries to push Renjun off of him.

“Hit me!” Renjun shouts.

“No, are you fucking crazy! Get off me!” Donghyuck grabs at the sleeves of Renjun’s jacket and tries to pry him off.

“Not till you hit me!” Renjun insists, clinging onto the boy, grabbing and pulling at him to annoy him best he can to get a reaction.

“I’m not going to hit you!” Donghyuck yells. The two boys spin in inelegant, rough circles on the grass, trying to push and pull at one another.

“Punch me or you got no balls!” Renjun yowls and then finally feels the blow to his face that sends him flying to the ground.

He pauses for a bit because his head spins for a solid ten seconds. He shakes it vigorously to get it to focus and it helps because then he looks up to find a very startled and distressed Donghyuck looking down at him, fist still raised in the air.

“That had more throw than power.” Renjun comments, massaging his jaw.

“Yeah, that’s what I was going for.” Donghyuck agrees.

For a moment both boys nod and look at each other, acknowledging the technique and form of the punch. And then, they burst into laughter because fuck, all of this was so stupid. Renjun rolls on the grass and Donghyuck doubles over as he stands. Then he offers Renjun his hand to help him get up, which he takes eagerly, using it to lift up and fling himself into his friend’s arms. They hold each other strongly, thumping one another on the back. And just like that, the awkwardness is gone. All that was meant to be said has been said and now Renjun is no longer struggling to find his words. They come easily, because all of this is so natural. He was with his best friend, after all.

“You are a crazy motherfucker, you know that, right?” Donghyuck comments, shaking his head as they sit back down on the bench.

Renjun chuckles, then looks at the grass, because his head hangs in shame again. “I’m a sorry motherfucker.”

Donghyuck puts an arm around Renjun and thumps his back again. “You should be sorry, you dumb fuck. But also, you’ve got a pretty toxic coping mechanism, you know that, right?”

Renjun sighs long “I know. The longer I think about it, the dumber I feel.”

He expects his friend to make a joke in return but he feels his hesitation. So he looks up and finds Donghyuck trying to think of what to say. “Have you ever thought about… like sorting that out, maybe?” he finally asks.

“Sorting it out?” Renjun asks, confused.

“Like... you know this isn’t normal, right?” Donghyuck asks, and he doesn’t sound like he’s mocking. His tone doesn’t have the slightest hint of a joke and that’s what makes Renjun realize what he’s talking about.

“No… no, I haven’t…” Renjun admits. He doesn’t know why he’s never thought about ‘sorting it out’. Perhaps because he’s always thought he was smarter than anyone who could offer him help.

“You could give it a try. Talking to someone really helps sometimes, you know? Getting help can help.” Donghyuck says carefully.

Renjun bites his lip. He knows his friend is right, but he’s never really, truly given it a thought. Donghyuck senses his discomfort and changes the subject.

“Your grandma is finally getting tested again tomorrow.” he says as he stretches.

Renjun smiles “Yeah. I honestly can’t believe it…” he looks at his best friend “... but I also don’t know if I’ll ever be able to thank you…”

Donghyuck frowns and shakes Renjun by the shoulder “Stop it before I throw up.”

“I mean it.”

“I’ll throw up even if you mean it.”

“Donghyuck…”

“Okay, really, stop. Also, I’m not even the one you should be thanking. Or apologizing to.” Donghyuck sits back after he’s had his fill of shaking Renjun.

“Of course, you’re the one I should be thanking and apologizing to, you stupid. You did all of this for me even when I was an absolute asshole to you.” Renjun presses.

“You are an asshole, but you’re also a dumb asshole.” Donghyuck declares.

“Hey, I’m trying to apologize nicely, here.” Renjun pouts and his friend lets out a long, exasperated sigh.

“I thought you were just being obtuse but you seriously don’t know…” Donghyuck shakes his head.

“Know what?” Renjun asks and Donghyuck shrugs and acts like a little shit which annoys Renjun, but at the same time fills him with relief. Because Donghyuck being a little shit to him means their friendship has been restored to its original state. But he asks again “Know what?!”

“Dude, no offense or anything, but did you really think your parents can put your grandma in a private room all on their own?” Donghyuck asks.

Renjun stops a bit. He’d been so worried about the fact that his grandma’s life was hanging by a thread that he hadn’t even thought about the expenses part. He knows his grandma had a little bit in savings, but his parents for sure didn’t earn that much. Come to think of it, he hadn’t even realized that this was one of the nicer hospitals around.

“Fuck it, I’m really going to have to spell it out for you. Since your brain doesn’t seem to be working.” Donghyuck sighs dramatically.

“What?”

“Dude. This is Y/N’s parents’ hospital. Your mother couldn’t possibly keep taking care of your grandma all on her own, now could she? When Y/N found out, she went crazy. She made her parents direct all their best resources into taking care of your grandma.”

For a while, the information hangs in the air.

Renjun had thought that he would never get to feel things that were new and unexplainable ever again. He thought he had experienced every single feeling his body had to offer. The past month alone had put him through more emotions than he had experienced in his whole life. He had seen it all, felt it all.

But what he’s experiencing right now doesn’t feel like gratitude or shame or longing or anything one should expect to feel in a situation like this. It just feels like a soft light has filled his chest and is lifting him in the air. He feels like he’s floating, like he’s having an out of body experience.

“Oh,” is the only thing he can manage to say.

And then he remembers your face. He hadn’t realized it then, but he sees now how badly he had wanted to see you that night. He had wanted no one but you to hold him and kiss him and tell him that he wasn’t alone. And he remembers how he couldn’t tell you any of that. He remembers how you had walked away with another man.

And that makes him come back to earth. He feels a resigned sort of sadness.

“Y/N is… she would do that for anybody, wouldn’t she?” Renjun smiles sadly.

“She probably would. But you should’ve seen how worried she was. Even now, she is on the phone everyday with her parents, making sure they’re doing everything they can. She didn’t want what happened to her grandmother to happen to yours.” Donghyuck tells him.

Renjun looks up “What happened to her grandmother?”

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows. “She passed away from Covid last year?” His eyebrows go higher still “She says she’s told you about this?”

Renjun thinks, and then it’s as if a veil on his memory is slowly but poorly being lifted. He remembers laying his head on your shoulder. He remembers feeling your shirt dampen from his tears. He remembers your fingers drawing relaxing patterns in his hair. He remembers your soothing voice, speaking to him with such tenderness that Renjun had barely heard your words and had focused instead on it’s sweet tones. But now, when Renjun is forcing himself to think, he very foggily recalls what you had been saying. You had been telling him about your own grandmother. Why hadn’t Renjun listened? Why did Renjun never listen when you spoke? He was such a selfish, arrogant fool. He wishes he could go back and change it all.

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Are you really….” he sighs again, “Nevermind. But yeah, she basically went nuts because she couldn’t be here with you.”

Renjun’s heart is aching and he’s pretty sure his face reflects it. “I wish I could take it all back. Everything I did to her.”

“You can take it back.” Donghyuck says.

“How?”

“Apologize to her, you dummy.” Donghyuck smacks the back of his head.

“How? I tried calling her once but she didn’t pick up.” Renjun admits.

“Then you should call her again and again and again till it sticks.” Donghyuck says plainly and it makes so much fucking sense that Renjun is embarrassed that he hadn’t thought it.

“Yeah, but…” Renjun swallows, “... it doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

“What do you mean?” Donghyuck asks.

“She’s with Wong Hendery now. So…” Renjun can’t even complete the thought.

“What do you mean she’s with Wong Hendery?” Donghyuck scrunches his brows deep in his forehead in confusion.

“She left with him for the semester break. I went to see her… but she left with him…” Renjun presses his lips together.

“Wait…” Donghyuck says and Renjun looks up and nods at him as if to confirm the fact. But he sees something entirely different on his friend’s face. It’s an expression of deep dumbfoundedness. “... are you some sort of an idiot?” He asks like Renjun is the dimmest person he has ever come across.

And Renjun doesn’t help his cause because he only blinks in return.

“Dude! She’s not ‘with Wong Hendery,’” Donghyuck gets up and smacks Renjun across the head once again. “They’re partners on the SMK Trainee Drive. She’s literally been preparing for this for months? Shouldn’t you know this?”

Renjun blinks some more. SMK Trainee Drive? Renjun had heard and personally seen you preparing for interviews and these drives. But somehow a lot of it hadn’t registered in his brain. Once again, probably because he never listened to you well. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he was an idiot. He was the biggest idiot on the planet.

Yet right now, he was a smiling idiot whose heart was suddenly filling with hope. “She’s not… with… she’s not with Hendery?” Renjun is embarrassed. He feels so fucking stupid asking this, but he absolutely can’t help the smile spreading across his face.

“She’s literally at the tower right now. She’s been stuck because we went into lockdown whilst she was there. It’s why she couldn’t come and see you. But the highway doesn’t open for another week, so she’ll be stuck till then.” Donghyuck explains, and Renjun feels his heart exploding with joy at every word. He’s pretty sure he’s grinning shamelessly.

“Why do I know more about your girlfriend than you do? Oh wait. It's because 'she's not your girlfriend.’” Donghyuck does a perfectly exaggerated mimicry of Renjun that reminds him of that one SpongeBob meme. On a normal day, he would’ve wanted to smack his friend for doing this. But in this moment, he is all too happy to be the one being smacked and mocked.

Renjun laughs with relief, then finds his laugh fading a bit. “Do you think she’ll forgive me? For everything I did?”

“I don’t know, man. But you wouldn’t know unless you try.” Donghyuck once again states something that should be obvious.

“How do I try if she’s not picking up my calls? And when she won’t even be here for another week?” Renjun sulks a bit but gets smacked in the head again.

“Dude! She literally did everything in the world to help your grandma, and she was in a wholeass different city! She did that all for you! I’m sure you can figure out a simple apology.” Donghyuck has his arms crossed and is now seriously looking agitated with him and it makes Renjun smile.

“She really did that for me?” Renjun asks and he doesn’t even care if he sounds like a cheesy motherfucker. He doesn’t even care he’s being this way in front of Lee Donghyuck who probably won’t let him live it down for the rest of his life.

“Of course she did that for you, you idiot.” Renjun earns another smack at the end of that.

“Does she like me?” Renjun asks like a stupid, hopeful teenage boy.

Donghyuck pretends to gag and moves away in disgust. But then he sees Renjun’s expression and lets out a long, irritated exhale. “Of course she likes you, you dumb fuck.” Renjun gets hit in the head, “Why would she do all of this if she didn’t like you?” Renjun gets another smack, “Oh Lord, please give me the strength to not commit murder. I am not your strongest soldier…” Donghyuck looks up at the sky and Renjun laughs openly, freely and lightly. He feels as if all the knots in his chest are slowly being undone one by one. So he jumps up and tries to tackle and cuddle Donghyuck but he keeps moving away. The two boys run around in the ground, Renjun chasing Donghyuck, trying to attack him with his love while he complains that his hair smells.

And Renjun accepts all his insults with a newly healed heart. You liked him. Despite everything that he’d done to you, you liked him. You had worried about him and done everything in your power to help his grandma. You had kept tabs on her and made sure she was healing even though you were miles away. You liked him, and you weren’t with a new guy and you liked him.

As he walks back towards the hospital with his arm around his best friend’s shoulders, he decides that if it came to it that he had to beg and grovel for your forgiveness, he would happily spend the rest of his life on his knees. Because you liked him and Renjun was never going to let you go ever again.

True to his word (for maybe the first time in your relationship), Renjun spends the rest of the week trying to reach you. Because his apology tour wouldn’t be complete without his most important stop--you.

He calls you so many times; but each time, he only gets to hear the dial tone and the mechanical voice telling him that the user is unreachable at the moment. You never pick up.

But his mind and his spirit is fueled by Donghyuck’s advice, and this time, the advice is a lot more sound and a lot less exploitative. So, Renjun doesn’t give up because he has to make it stick. You had never given up on him. He wasn’t going to give up on you. When he’s sure you won’t pick up his calls, he leaves you a string of messages.

‘Hey, Y/N. I’m trying to call you. Please pick up?’

‘I know you have every right to be mad at me, but I just need a chance to apologize.’

‘I’m seriously the biggest idiot in the world, but I need to tell you that in person.’

‘Okay, I’m coming to you.’

‘Turns out I can’t just negotiate with the police to let me cross the city lines to get to the girl I like.’

‘Y/N, please…’

‘I’m the world’s sorriest and the most embarrassed motherfucker and I need to hear your voice to tell you that.’

‘I am Berry-Berry sorry, and I’m just asking for one chance to get to talk to you.

‘I’m not going to stop, you know?’

He has to admit that his patience is wearing thin. Because he’s trying every method and none of it is working; and also because his pride had never allowed him to beg and grovel to anyone before. It’s a humbling experience, but at the same time, he doesn’t feel burdened by it. This was for you. The girl who had done everything in her power to make him fall. The girl who had given him more love and kindness than anyone else in the world had. The girl who had taken his troubles and worries as her own. So, of course, he had to do everything in his power to earn your forgiveness.

But as he’s sitting in his room, trying to call you for what he’s sure is the twentieth time that day, he hears that your phone has been powered off. For a moment, Renjun feels immensely dispirited. Maybe he had lost you for good. Maybe you never wanted to hear from him ever again. Maybe this is what he deserved.

But in the next moment, Renjun stops himself. No. He wasn’t going to let his mind spiral that way again. He had to think with a good, clear mind. He couldn’t sit around and sulk without knowing he had explored all possible options. He needed to get creative and for that, he needed to think.

He could certainly wait it out till the week was over and when you’d be back. But he wanted to spend each passing minute letting you know that he was trying. So, that wasn’t an option.

Maybe he could look at the map and find some loopholes and secret passageways across the city. Surely, some of them had to be unmanned so he could break the lockdown law and get to you? That would certainly be impactful, being locked up in jail as a grand gesture of an apology. But Renjun was no action hero.

Renjun sits and thinks and thinks and thinks till a light bulb finally goes off. Of course. A grand gesture. He yells into his pillow out of excitement and frustration that he hadn’t thought of this before. If one thing had been established during this time, it was the fact that Renjun was a dumb fuck with a penchant for being blind to the obvious.

He gets up bright and early the next morning and rushes to see your friend at her apartment. He sits beside her as her online class starts, away from the camera view and finds his heart filling with the utmost warmth as he sees your window finally appear on the screen. Even in the tiny box, you looked so freaking beautiful that for a minute, Renjun stops and stares as butterflies take over his belly. But he taps his cheek to get himself to focus. He was here on a mission.

He waits for the class to begin before he slides himself into view next to your friend and types out a message on the chat that had taken him all night to prepare. He hits ‘Send to Everyone’ and waits.

And thankfully, the professor--miraculously the same professor who had done this the very first time all that time ago--stops to read it out,

“This might be a long shot, but Y/N L/N, do you think you can find it in your heart to give me another chance?” he begins, squinting his eyes slightly in confusion as he reads on, then smiling as realization hits. “Well, that’s certainly not a question from Ms. Kim Minjeong, I can tell you that.” he jokes and waits because as it had before, this has piqued the students’ interest.

Renjun watches as your pretty eyes widen. He watches them skirt across your screen, seemingly looking for the cause of the commotion. He watches the moment of realization hitting your pretty face. And he waits.

“Well, Ms. Y/N L/N, are you going to put the young man out of his misery?” the professor jokes kindly and Renjun thinks he might die from the anticipation.

And then, he watches as you move to unmute yourself.

“Yeah, I guess I could give him another chance,” you say nonchalantly which earns you a round of applause and hoots from all other windows. Because college students will always love dramatic antics.

The professor calls the class back to attention and Renjun sits back in his chair, grinning like an idiot because the girl he had fallen for had given him another chance.

#renjun fic #renjun angst #renjun fluff #kpopscape #ficscafe #neowritingsnet #dreamwritersnet #huang renjun #renjun #nct dream #nct fic #nct dream fic #nct fluff #nct angst #nct college au #renjun x reader #we met in online class

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notchesandbullets · 3 years

Text

Wherever You Go, I Will Follow (Boxer! Metal Arm! Bakugou x Reader) Underground!AU

Art credit: @/helloclonion on Instagram

Warnings: violence, drinking (everyone is of age), hints of ptsd and depression, mentions of cloning norms, angst but fluffy ending.

Synopsis: Bakugou doesn’t like to talk about what happened to his left arm. Years of fighting underground had made him harder than nails. Society was messed up. Children weren’t born, they were made and any who aren’t adopted are raised in mass orphanages. But you’re special. And you’ve chosen the light even though you’ve seen the darkness. Who else to get through to his heart other than someone like you?

Words: 7.8k

The lights blind you momentarily as they flashed on. The humidity in such a crowded space packed with people was making your skin crawl but it was worth it for the greatly anticipated show.

An underground arena that had this much hype was rare since most fighters didn’t make it past their 20s due to injuries so severe from boxing that it cost them their lives.

There were zero qualified doctors here in the society riddled with old factories that didn't exist anymore and sleazy underground cities where nothing could grow anymore due to the pollution. It had fallen to ruin and only a select handful that could heal like they claimed to.

Due to that little insignificant fact, that meant the expected lifespan of everyone down here wasn’t more than 30 years of age.

Of course, it varied from section to section, but there was enough pattern to know that there wasn’t long to live once you got to your teens.

Therefore, everyone lived fast and hard down here, trying to experience as much as they could before it was their time to go.

And while you couldn’t say that you blamed them, that wasn’t how you wanted to live. You wanted to fight back against the norm and make a difference that would change this world.

Which is why you were so interested in this particular fighter.

Bakugou Katsuki.

A reformed individual with a criminal record after a looting with his crew went sideways. He was stronger than most with an attitude and ego bigger than the city itself.

He was renowned to be one of the baddest in the underground and had a personality as difficult as a cloned Siberian tiger.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. You didn’t know why Mic couldn’t come scout today instead of you, you hated how jam packed Bakugou’s fights got, which is why you always steered clear of them.

Well, that and because you weren’t exactly partial to his famed temper.

Then, the glint of metal had you on the edge of your seat, eyes sparkling with curiosity as you caught a better look the second time around as he stomped into the ring.

Was that… a metal arm?

It looked like something straight out of Marvel’s Winter Soldier from back in the day. Scarily so.��

You faintly recalled that his opponent’s name was Shindou, supposedly the underground’s upcoming rising star to the top. His undefeated reputation preceded him and he certainly was easy on the eyes.

So why did you find your gaze drawn to the arrogant boxer with a cocky smirk on his face across from the guy that was cuter than him?

Metal arm flexing, sweat dripped down his brow, his crimson eyes narrowed in concentration and tinged with a hint of malice as his much larger rival took a swing at him to kick off the round.

Bakugou blocked it head on, retaliating with a force that sent him spiraling towards the cage. His wrapped hands were crusted with blood and he hastily brushed the dirtied, spiky hair that fell into his eyes out of his face, a ravenous hunger coming through as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

“Is that all you fucking got, extra?!” He screamed in Shindou’s face and you actually had to cover your ears at the sheer volume that carried through the stadium, egging him on.

Your mouth dried as Bakugou caught him across the jaw the second he flew at him, knocking out his opponent in one go, calling the match in under thirty seconds flat.

Holy shit, he’s good. You thought to yourself, thoroughly impressed, barely able to hear yourself over the crowd’s roar as Bakugou punched his fist in the air victoriously.

His technique seemed rough to the naked eye but taking a closer look, his form and tactics were flawless. His overall strategy could use a little work, since he seemed particularly keen on using brute strength, but he was really good at turning the tables on his opponent in an instant.

And really good at making sure that they couldn’t get up again after he threw them down.

You had your share of good fighters. Not like that, you dirty minded creature, you were a scout for your father’s gym.

Aizawa wasn’t a revered name by any means, but that didn’t mean he lacked skill. He was the one who could take down more people than any other pro could, but he absolutely hated media attention. Hence why almost no one knew of his abilities, other than a select few of his colleagues and fellow fighters.

And you of course. You were so incredibly proud of your him.

He had recently been scouting new talent after taking in several kids: Shinsou, Todoroki and Midoriya.

The female boxers in his ring were a literal force to be reckoned with. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen someone pack a punch with as much power as Uraraka when she got serious. And no one could beat Yaoyorozu when they stepped in the same arena as her.

In the underground, it was normal to come across those that talked big, but rarely have you ever seen them deliver.

This guy had some raw talent. Perfect.

Looks like Uncle Hizashi’s instinct was right.

After the fights ended and the exciting night came to a close, you wormed your way through the rows of people lining up to claim their bets that they had placed at the beginning of the night. You were at least smart enough not to get sucked into all that.

A cage match had too many variables. The odds could change in a split second, no matter how good or bad the fighter was. And since there were no rules, anybody could win.

You found the boxer in the designated fighters’ alcove security had put there especially for them to wind down. Here, they would be hidden away from the crowd and only the fighters knew about this spot aside from those that protected it.

“You’re good.”

Bakugou snorted, not looking up at the sound of your voice as he continued to unwrap the tape from his hands. “Of course I am, dumbass.”

You cocked an eyebrow at his arrogant attitude but after a fight like that, you guessed the pride was well deserved. After all, the guy he went up against was undefeated. No one had beat him and after Shindou earned his reputation of tearing the limbs off of the fighters he faced, no one wanted to step into the ring with him after that.

But Bakugou didn’t back away, even going so far as to taunt this guy, boldly proclaiming that he’d beat him.

Normally, you would brush off those guys as no good but he made good on what he said he would do, so you were at least a little bit curious.

A little.

You still didn’t like his attitude though.

Tossing the bloodied wraps in his bag, he ignored you as you just stood there like a lost puppy. People like you didn’t belong in the underground.

Soft.

Bakugou scowled and huffed scornfully, throwing his bandages down with a little more force than necessary.

Patching up wasn’t too bad this time around. He was lucky the round ended when it did though, that fucking extra had too much boisterous energy and willpower that had carried him this far. Still, it was better than fighting bare-knuckled.

There was a time when wraps or gloves weren’t allowed. People liked the blood and violence, and craved someone to come out victorious by taking the other’s life.

Fucking sickos if anyone asked him.

Bakugou slung his gym bag over his shoulder and shouldered his way past you since you had yet to say a word after that initial, begrudging praise. He couldn’t care less if you hung around but he wasn’t going to stick around for the damn media to catch whiff of this fight.

Once it was leaked that he had won, they would take a percentage of his cut and he would have to go without food for another week just to pay rent on that shitty place he stayed at.

It wasn’t much but it was better than the streets.

“Wait.” You called out, inwardly chastising yourself for being so pathetic.

You weren’t star-struck or nothing, so why were you feeling so tongue-tied?

Taking a deep breath when he snapped his head around to glare at you in annoyance for stopping him, you rolled your eyes when he tapped his foot impatiently.

“You gonna take all fucking night, extra?” Bakugou barked at you, clearly not playing around.

Your eyes widened as the metal plates on his left arm clinked together as he raised up his fist threateningly.

“I’ve got places to go and shit to do.” He grumbled. “So if you’re just going to stand there like a fucking—”

“Do you want to be a part of Aizawa’s gym?” You blurted out before he could get too carried away on his rant.

Bakugou arched an eyebrow in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that. It was rare that the scruffy old man took on recruits.

Huffing, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and scrutinized you. “Who the hell are you?”

You cringed at how rough his voice laced with suspicion came out but you supposed you could understand.

Collectors were far too common these days, usually rich scouts from corporations that searched for talented fighters to partake in their financial war when it turned bloody.

You weren’t really sure how it was possible for those airheads to train delinquents into soldiers for their military to fight in the wars that they created, but all you were really concerned about was dodging those scouts.

They weren’t people to trifle with.

Bakugou’s suspicions were misplaced this time around though and you jutted out your hip, planting your hand on it as you regarded him disinterestedly.

There was only one thing that you could say to get him to trust you.

“He’s my dad.” You said quietly.

The boxer nearly choked on air and you flashed him a cheeky grin when he whipped his head around to glare at you.

“Fuck, seriously?”

You nodded and a heavy exhale whooshed out of his lungs in one breath.

Bakugou cocked up an eyebrow, seeing you in a completely different light. “Holy shit.”

You resisted the urge to dash away under his intrigue but you flinched when his eyes landed on you again.

“Sorry.” Bakugou muttered, averting his eyes. “Just never seen one before.”

You scratched the back of your neck, a habit you picked up from your introverted father whenever he was put in uncomfortable situations. “Yeah…”

Children weren’t born anymore, it was illegal. Partly because expenses couldn’t be covered if people got pregnant and partly because the kids would have nowhere to go, but mostly because the government wanted a controlled population.

By controlling the gene pool, they could create whoever and whomever they chose, placing them in different status’ around the world to fill in the gaps and create the perfect society.

Except, it really wasn’t all that perfect.

You had been a product of your mom and dad’s unconditional love for each other, something else that was also forbidden, especially in the underground cities where disease ran rampant and claimed numerous innocent lives everyday.

Your mother wasn’t dead but she did have to leave soon after you were born to protect you from the government officials that would come if she stayed.

Your dad was heartbroken but once every three years, the three of you were reunited under the bridge where seagulls cried and the waves crashed upon the shore.

Once upon a time.

Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest, his bicep bulging and you were willing to wager that he specifically got those measurements for his metal arm tailored to those specifications just so his huge muscles were distractingly the same size.

He was still not entirely convinced you were who you said you were. He knew that you had to at least be a bastard’s biological child, no one was bold enough or fucking stupid to say that much out loud, but he still wasn’t sure that the old man was your dad.

Not bothering to be discreet as he eyed you up and down, he motioned for you to give him a little more information.

“Aizawa, huh?” Bakugou drawled. “You don’t fucking look like a brat that belongs to him.”

Clearing your throat, you smirked. Now you were the one tapping your foot impatiently. “Thanks, I’m told I have my mother’s eyes.”

He glared at your sarcasm but you didn’t care.

Craning your neck to the side to get a better look at that beautiful arm of his, you pouted when he ducked out of range.

“Prove that he’s your dad.” He demanded and you feigned innocence before shooting him a grin when he rolled his eyes irritably.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you responded cheekily, “Coffee and cats are his two favorite things in the world, and he only tolerates Uncle Hizashi on a whim when he’s wasted.”

Bakugou barked out laughing and you smiled at the boisterous sound escaping from his lungs.

“So,” You kicked your feet, scuffing the dirt as you sidled over to him. “You in or what?”

His left arm glinted in the dim, flickering light of the alcove and he tucked in his chin the slightest bit to stare down at you, the corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Hell yeah.”

Exactly one year later, you were weaving in between the clustered bodies in the dingy underground bar you were at to make your way to the obnoxious and rowdy group in the back, all while balancing a tray of beers in one hand.

They had just arrived a few minutes ago, eagerly chatting with your dad, who was their trainer, even though he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but here.

Your skirt flared around your ankles as you sashayed through the crowd dancing on the dancefloor, a couple strands of hair sticking to your forehead from the exertion of how many tables you waited on already.

“First round’s here!!” You announced, beaming brightly at the packed group of 15.

Shoji, Mineta, and a few others couldn’t make it due to conflicting schedules. But it was alright, they would come again another time. Besides, you were quite sure that a special someone couldn’t care less if they made it or not for this particular day.

“YES!!” Kaminari shouted escatically, throwing his hands up in the air.

A chorus of “thank you’s” came from the girls as Ashido eagerly reached for her first drink of the night, downing half the bottle in one go. You predicted she was going to be out like a light within the hour if she kept that pace up.

“Don’t get shitfaced, Kaminari.” Jirou twirled a strand of her dark hair cockily as she teasingly held the last one out of arm’s reach. “Lightweight.”

“Jirou!!” Kaminari protested while the table burst into laughter.

The edgy fighter eventually gave into him, shaking her head in disapproval when he proceeded to chug all of it straight like it was some kind of shot. A knowing smirk appeared on her face when he choked.

“Told you so.” She rubbed in his face as Asui leaned into her side.

“Shut up!!” Kaminari shouted between violent bouts of coughing. It only got worse when Ashido slapped his back, already drunk.

But the slight pink dusted across his cheeks clued you in on what he was really doing.

You shook your head. If he was any more dense, you would’ve smacked him upside the head. Maybe then he would’ve come to his senses and that he didn’t need to do all these things to impress her.

Jirou never hated anything more than someone who felt fake to her.

As you distributed the rest of the drinks to a clueless Todoroki, a way too eager Midoriya, and handed water to Koda, who thanked you shyly with a small nod.

You smiled at him, then left to the bar that your uncle was managing to get the order for the next table while Iida shouted for everyone to make sure they drank responsibly so that they didn’t cause any problems for you.

But it was largely ignored in favor of raising their beers in a toast for the birthday boy.

Bakugou scowled in the corner that he was shoved into, wondering why he of all people had to be dragged to this shitty celebration for a birthday he couldn’t care less about. It was too loud here and it was making his head hurt. The only consolation he got was that you were a rare sight, wearing a dress that he had bought for you a week ago.

The seamstress who had made it for him specifically had charged him an incredible amount of money for it, since fabric of any kind that wasn’t made from recycled garbage liners was nearly impossible to come by.

But being a part of the ring of fighters that made up Aizawa’s Warriors gave him credibility and enabled him to make even more money than he did before, so it wasn’t a problem.

That much.

After rent on his rundown place and scrounging for food, he had saved up the rest for weeks before he was able to afford the pale blue satin dress edged with delicate white lace around the sleeves that cascaded off your shoulders. The tightly-fitted bodice that wrapped around your waist was a simple leather corset, accentuating those curves of yours more than should be legally allowed.

You looked absolutely delicious.

You continued to sweep around the tavern, oblivious to the looks you were getting. You had a bit of expertise in waitressing due to the lack of income your dad was able to provide so you had to convince him that you really didn’t mind helping out with the staff tonight.

The bar, owned by your Uncle Hizashi, a retired fighter but not retired in spirit, had all the profits go to the orphanages the city couldn’t keep track of or be bothered to pay for; which enabled those kids who were abandoned to have a roof over their heads in all the uncertainty.

The state of those houses holding those homeless children were horrendous.

But your dad and uncle were taking steps to create something new that would provide them with some relief and a new family.

Kirishima clapped the ash-blond on the shoulder, jarring him out of his annoyance. “Come on, Bakugou, loosen up!!”

He clicked his tongue and scowled at the red-haired guy’s energy. No one would think that this fun-loving guy and people person would be such a terrifying fighter in the arena.

Kirishima frowned when he noticed his lack of enthusiasm. “C’mon man, I know this isn’t your scene but Y/N worked really hard on this.”

Bakugou’s drink nearly spilled as he set it down abruptly. He wasn’t expecting that. Aizawa had told him that his friends had arranged this.

Picking up on his confusion, Kirishima then proceeded to tell him about how you gathered everybody to ask if they’d be willing to attend the party and how all of them enthusiastically said yes. You had gotten special permission from your Uncle Hizashi to borrow the VIP section of his bar and convinced your father to go easy on their training today.

Really, the grumpy man with the metal arm should be thanking you since you were the reason all of them weren’t sore to death with barely enough energy to keep their heads up.

Kirishima was going to blame it on Aizawa. He was tough on them. Too tough. No one should be that determined to make their students push past their limits but everyone knew it came from him caring more than anyone else.

They were all like his adopted children, in a weird, skewed way. But, no one was going to argue against it. None of them had their biological parents in the picture.

Besides, Aizawa had enough room for them all to crash in his home. An abandoned mansion overrun with thick green vines but had no working electricity whatsoever looked like something straight out of one of those old horror movies back in the 3000s.

Bakugou scoffed. Like hell should he care about whether or not you planned this. He didn’t ask you to do any of this, you decided to do it all on your own.

“Whatever.” He grumbled, snatching his bottle before stalking away from his shocked friends left in the dust.

Todoroki raised an eyebrow as Kirishima sighed and Midoriya’s expression saddened when he saw him leave. They were supposed to be celebrating…

And yet, all three of them knew why today was so hard for the explosive boxer.

You frowned as you noticed the slumped figure retreating to the back of the establishment. Finishing up serving the drinks for the table you were waiting on, you briefly made a detour to your uncle and asked if it was alright that you take a break.

Ever the doting uncle who loved to spoil you rotten, Mic’s eyes softened understandingly when he noticed who you were staring after and granted you permission.

“Just don’t tell your dad I let you off the hook.” He bargained with an exaggerated wink and you giggled.

“I won’t.” You reassured, setting down the tray and squeezing his hand in thanks.

Then, you followed Bakugou.

He disappeared around the corner and as soon as you tailed him, you came to a stop in front of a heavy door. Your brow furrowed, wondering why he would be coming here.

Step after familiar step you took until you eventually came to a standstill on the roof.

Behind you, the heavy door slammed close but it sounded different than usual. Something metal crashed into it, denting it by the sounds of it, and it wasn’t until you turned around that you found Bakugou’s vermilion eyes boring into yours.

The wind was stronger up here and you pinned your arms down to your side, knowing full well from experience how mortifying it would be if your skirt decided to flip up right now.

“What the fuck are you doing up here?” He snapped angrily.

To his surprise, you didn’t look the least bit fazed by his outburst.

“I live here.” You responded nonchalantly, undeterred by his characteristic abrasiveness.

If Bakugou was startled at that revelation, he didn’t show it. If anything, he looked even more irked, though you didn’t know why. He didn’t have any reason to suspect you of lying but in this world, it was safer to be skeptical than sorry.

However, you hadn’t given him one reason to doubt you the entire year you’ve known him. Not one.

So if anything, he trusted you more than the majority of the rats in his rundown city and just as much as his small circle of extras.

Picking your way past him carefully since the roof didn’t have a safety rail, you made your way towards the curtained tent hiding behind the generator. Pushing the tattered material back, you showed him the bedroll and small table set up with a few bottles of water, a case of beer and a worn book.

Bakugou’s mouth dropped open but he recovered quickly so by the time you turned back around, he had the same indifferent, kind of irritated look on his face.

Then, he was a bit at a loss of what to do. It wasn’t often he was faced with the dilemma of being wrong so blatantly. Should he apologize? Even when he didn’t say anything but the thought that you were crazy ran through his head? Should he apologize for something you weren’t even aware of?

Nah, fuck that.

You gingerly took a seat at the edge of the roof, leaning back on your hands as your legs dangled. Patting the spot next to you invitingly, a soft smile curved on the corners of your mouth as he grumbled but came over anyway. He plopped down on your right side and you took a moment to study him.

He looked exhausted, spirit whittled down to the bone until there was nothing left for him to salvage. His eyes were bloodshot and the beer bottle in his hand probably wasn’t doing any favors for him.

Glancing at him out of the corner of your eyes, you asked worriedly, “You okay?”

He huffed in annoyance at your question.

“Fine.” He ground out through clenched teeth and you shut your mouth.

Bakugou clearly wasn’t looking to talk but you yearned to help. You wanted to be there for him.

Kirishima hadn’t told you much, only that the incident that took Bakugou’s arm happened a long time ago and wasn’t something he liked to relive.

You didn’t push it. You had your own share of traumatic experiences in this god-forsaken place and hated nothing more than being forced to talk about by a well meaning friend. So you understood it well.

Instead of pushing the topic, you sat with him in silence. You didn’t ask why he walked away from the party or why it looked like he was drowning himself in his sorrows to forget something, you just offered him a quiet place to sit, with the company of yours truly.

Fate was flawed. You knew that ever since you were born.

The warped sense of justice that the city had was suffocating. People were put away in prison only to be left to rot with no chance of redemption. Those that made it out were casted out to the underground with no hope to see the light.

Combatants-for-hire wasn’t an unusual job to take on in the ruined city. All Might knew you too had been mixed up in some shit.

But it was what made you strong in the end.

“I’m here.” Was all you said softly, staring out at the city lights that were especially illuminating tonight.

Thanks to the heavy pollution, the stars could no longer be seen with the naked eye so this was the closest thing you could get to those twinkling lights raised high in the sky.

“It’s funny.”

You tilted your head towards him as he spoke and was a bit surprised to find him looking directly back at you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher.

His eyes were a little dazed, probably from the alcohol, but he looked a little more grounded than he did a minute ago.

Bakugou chuckled but it was short and grated against your ears for a second.

It was mocking.

He tipped his head back, downing the rest of his drink before harshly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while he crushed the bottle in his metal fist.

Leaning over, he let go and let the shiny crystals plummet to the ground below.

You smiled faintly, watching how they sparkled. It looked so pretty.

Sitting back down, Bakugou mimicked your posture and huffed out a dry laugh. “Out of all the shitty extras in the world, you would be the only one to fucking get through to me.”

Your puzzlement must’ve shown through his alcohol-induced haze because the next thing you knew was that he teetered to the side as he lost control of his equilibrium and careened into you.

Out of reflex, you caught him and gasped at the temperature difference as his cold metal arm pressed against you. You could feel it through the thin fabric of your dress and latched onto it when he moved to pull away.

“Sorry.” Bakugou slurred curtly as he gathered his bearings and tried to detangle you from him.

But his coordination wasn’t the best and he was growing more and more frustrated when you wouldn’t let go.

He snarled. “Let go.”

You shook your head firmly. “You could fall.”

Oh yeah. You two were on the roof.

This was a bad idea.

He didn’t know how he ended up here with you but he needed to leave. Immediately.

Bakugou stumbled to his feet, somehow managing to lose his way halfway to the door and face-planted in something that smelled faintly of lavender. Snuggling into the soft thing that was rubbing against his face, his brow furrowed in annoyance as you giggled at him.

“You have to take me out on a date first if you want that.” You teased lightly and he immediately sat up as he realized he had crashed in your bed.

He scrambled upright, nearly falling over again in his haste. “Fuck, I’m—”

“It’s alright, Katsuki.” You reassured nonchalantly, coming down to sit beside him, but not close enough where your legs were touching.

Bakugou’s mouth twitched at the sound of his first name but his eyes softened the barest bit and he didn’t fight against it.

Before he met you, he hated his name. It was a reminder that the place he came from was from a lab, cooked up like some sort of sick science experiment to fulfill a role in society that was chosen by some prick who had money.

It was a reminder that he wasn’t real. That he was expendable to all those bastards that ran the world.

But when you used it, when you spoke it with such tentative curiosity and genuine concern, he didn’t feel so unimportant anymore.

“Fuck.” Bakugou breathed as you leaned closer to examine his face.

Your forehead creased in worry and you raised a hand to his head to check his temperature to make sure he wasn’t running a fever. “Are you feeling alright?”

Squeaking when he suddenly grabbed your hand, you gasped in shock when he tugged you towards him.

You crashed into his chest and your cheeks flushed hotly as his chiseled form honed from years of training molded against your front.

His arm wrapped around your shoulders and it took a second to realize that his metal arm was planted firmly on the ground, keeping the two of you steady.

But when you reached out your fingers to brush against it, he ripped away from you.

You pulled back immediately, apology weighing in your gaze as your eyes flicked away from him. “I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s fucking hideous.”

You balked at his tenor. “W-What?!”

Bakugou looked away from you, his gaze fixed on the ground behind you as he rested his chin on top of your head, stubbornly refusing to look you in the eye as you breathed steadily against the base of his neck.

You were warm. Delicate.

Precious.

He didn’t expect someone like you to understand.

His vermilion eyes were shadowed by the ghosts of his past that continued to haunt him and he sighed heavily, curling his arm around you tighter. He didn’t want to let you go just let but he didn’t know why you weren’t pushing him away.

Your soft voice rang out. “Katsuki, what do you mean? It’s not hideous at all.”

He clicked his tongue but otherwise didn’t verbalize his disagreement.

“How could someone like you possibly understand this shit?” He spat but you didn’t recoil like he was half hoping you would.

At least then he would have an excuse to leave, under the guise that he had upset you. But you didn’t do any of that.

Too fucking precious. Always saw the good in everything just like that shitty nerd.

You closed your eyes in defeat. “No… I suppose I can’t.”

You didn’t quite understand him.

The bite in his tone sounded like you had hit too close to home, and yet, his thumb was absentmindedly running over the satin of your dress that he had bought you, your side heating up under his chest and warmth bloomed from your heart.

And yet, he wasn’t pushing you away.

Leaning down, you rested your forehead against his shoulder, your heart beating too loud for your own ears. “You don’t have to say anything, but I know what it feels like to be an outcast too.”

Bakugou eyed you cautiously, wondering if this was some sort of trick because he was drunk and definitely not as attentive as normally but your tone was open.

Honest.

“Yeah, maybe you do.” He scoffed, scorning you under his breath. “Maybe you don’t. It doesn’t fucking matter to me.”

“Maybe it doesn’t.” You whispered, tracing patterns on his chest as your head lolled to the side to gaze at him with complete vulnerability. “But just know that you aren’t alone.”

Bakugou whipped his head around as you stared at him. Didn’t you get it already? He didn’t want to fucking taint you with all of this shit that went on down here.

He didn’t want to tell you that he had to settle tinkering with whatever scrap metal he could find in the junkyard just to make his left arm operational again, didn’t want to tell you that the government had offered him a real replacement prosthetic but at the cost of becoming one of their combatants fighting in a war he never chose and as a result, he was casted to the side when something went wrong.

He had lost everything.

The second he had been tossed out on the street, he had come crawling back to Kiko, a spunky little girl a part of the UA orphanage in the east, one of the ones that Mic funneled money towards to fund their food and supply them with fresh water every three days.

The girl, no more than ten at the time, with her dirty blonde pigtails sticking out on either side of her lopsided head, had been born with a unique appearance.

The officials called it a defect, as though they were talking about an object of mass production.

Fucking disgusting.

It never seemed to bother the girl though, and she often claimed that she was tougher than all those men in fancy suits. Bakugou liked her spirit already.

Kiko had had this habit of tracing her stubby little fingers all over the scars from his fights whenever he came to visit and it had been her idea to forgo a realistic prosthetic from the corporation that was looking to hire him and just go out, full badass, just like Bucky in the Winter Soldier.

It was her favorite movie but Bakugou claimed he had absolutely no idea where she learned that kind of language from.

He had chuckled and patted her on the head at the time, swearing to hell and back that there was no fucking way he was going to build a metal arm. He would scare the kids if he did that, not to mention, full-grown adults.

But Kiko simply bounded over to him and beamed up at him like nothing was wrong in the world. It was fucking contagious, begging for him to at least consider it, selling the point of how cool it would look.

“You would be a superhero, Bakugou!!” She cheered, raising her hands up high, demanding for him to lift her up even though she wasn’t five anymore. “And you could save everybody, just like you want to!!”

He never got a chance to show her the finished product. Would she have liked it? Would she run around, screaming in his shitty apartment as she played with it when he detached it for cleaning? Would she try to hit him over the head with it when she thought he wasn’t looking like the cheeky brat he knew that she was?

Bakugou could hear her squeals of excitement so vividly some nights that he woke up from his terror of that night, soaked in cold sweat from a memory of the girl he had failed to save.

Defeated and overwhelmed by his circumstances after being rejected by the very people who sought him out because of his talent, he had ventured to the orphanage that night and on a whim, demanded her to live with him. He would take care of her, protect her, teach her things that she couldn’t learn from anyone else.

The widest smile he had ever seen stretched across Kiko’s face and she accepted his demands with eyes tearing up with joy.

He vowed to protect her.

He failed.

He had an unsettled score with the government officials he had upset on his way out from the lab that day they told him he had been scraped from the program.

The enraged fighter went on a rampage, tearing down anything in his path and clearing out the experiment rooms, offering freedom and a second chance to anyone willing and brave enough to take it.

And as a result, many took him up on his offer and fled that place with white walls and food too bland to actually be considered nutritious.

There was no doubt about it. He pissed them off the day he saved the others.

They had come for her and taken her last year on his birthday as revenge for freeing those they were experimenting on. He found a crumpled, poorly wrapped, newspaper covered package lost in the clutter of his apartment when he got home.

The creaking old door that kept out winter drafts had caved in, signifying that it had broken in with considerable force, and Kiko was gone.

That crushed gift hidden under the stairwell was the only thing that remained of her.

Inside, there was a small metal pin in the shape of an explosion. For his personality. Corny, but the little girl was simple-minded and liked the sentiment she found in things that she repurposed.

Bakugou always thought it was fucking weird but he hadn’t taken it off ever since that day.

The metal plates of his arm glided, clinking together softly as the polished steel lifted to trace your jaw, the pin visible on the inside of his wrist.

To keep her close to him always.

He had stormed their stronghold but by the time he got there, they were gone. Everything.

Every vial, all the equipment, every single one of the samples and officials had disappeared into thin air.

Bakugou had tried everything to track Kiko down, paying off the highest crime organizations to get more eyes out on the street but nothing worked. She was gone.

And she wasn’t ever going to come back.

You were silent when he finished telling you his depressing life story, sure you were bored to death but when he started to get up, he found that he couldn’t get very far with you draped over his body like this.

Bakugou had a fleeting thought that you had fallen asleep while he had been lamenting and rehashing every depressing detail from his past but he noticed the stuttering rise and fall of your back.

Well, at least you weren’t asleep, but now he didn’t know how to feel when he had told you all of that and you had yet to say anything.

“I know you don’t want pity.” You whispered into his shoulder.

He raised an eyebrow but waited for you to continue.

“I know there’s nothing that I can say that would make the pain go away or bring Kiko back,” You said softly. “But I’m here for you.”

Bakugou pressed his cheek against your hair and inhaled your sweet scent, closing his eyes as an unseen weight lifted from off of his shoulders.

“Thank you.” He murmured quietly with great difficulty.

You smiled slightly, glad that you were able to provide him with a little bit of comfort. “Anytime.”

The two of you stayed entwined for a few more moments, time stretching as he held onto you, soaking up your soothing presence while you relaxed against his hold.

“Katsuki?” You called quietly when he still didn’t let go after five more minutes.

Tightening his arm around you, he frowned when you struggled in his grip.

“Stop fucking moving.” He demanded and you ceased fighting in favor of pulling back to flick him on the forehead. “Oi, did you just fucking flick me?!”

“Yes.” You replied bluntly, snickering when he rolled his eyes.

There he was.

Bakugou protested hotly when you pushed down his arms to untangle from him but you shushed him with a giggle, leaning back to open the box of beer by your bed, grabbing two bottles and fishing for something from underneath your pillow

In the underground city where liquor was the only thing that was plentiful, you would take what you could get.

Bakugou caught the beer that you threw at him in midair with an expression a mix between annoyance that you tossed it at his face and gratitude that you knew how he needed another drink after that tale.

“What the fuck is that for?” He scoffed, pointing to the roll of gauze in your hand. “You get a papercut or some shit?”

You rolled your eyes in disbelief, failing to notice how his eyes raked over you to look for any kind of injury you might be hiding from him, and held it up to him. “No, but it looks like you did.”

He almost spilled his beer that he just popped the lid off of, mouth furrowing in a deep-seated frown when he followed your gaze and landed on the cuts on his knuckles from the fight that happened earlier that night.

“Fuck.” He cursed, setting down the beer hard to wipe up the blood.

He hadn’t even known when he got hurt.

But he didn’t even get started on tending to it when your gentle hands wrapped around his and you took over for him.

“Here.” You murmured, pouring some water onto a clean cloth and dabbing carefully at his cuts. “Let me.”

“You’re fucking weird.” Bakugou grumbled but allowed you to take over.

Your touch was so much lighter than the rough pads of his fingers. He was always too impatient whenever he had to patch himself up, jerking at the bandages to get them to lay flat when they wouldn’t cooperate.

It was a fucking pain to stop the bleeding when his shitty fingers fumbled with it. It was a trip to hell and back every single time he had to attend to wounds he got from boxing.

Your nose scrunched up in concentration as you finished cleaning the area before securely wrapping the soft cotton around his knuckles.

“There.” You declared in satisfaction, sitting back on your knees.

Admiring your handiwork with an unreadable expression, it was a second before Bakugou nodded begrudgingly with thanks.

“It’s not complete shit.”

You giggled. “Thanks.”

He picked back up his drink and took a swig.

Offering up yours, you hid your surprise when he actually recognized the gesture and clinked his glass against yours.

The distinct hum from the music in the establishment below filtered up to the roof, filling the silence and the occasional echo of steel grating against each other. The low lights were pleasant and the ambiance was soothing as you two drank away the night.

You shivered, catching a chill as the night air blew by, but before you could reach for your blanket, Bakugou was tucking you in his side.

“Get over here, dumbass.” He mumbled, turning his face away so that you wouldn’t see his blush. “You’re gonna get fucking sick.”

You noticed how he still kept your metal arm away from you. That wound was still too fresh and somehow you had a feeling that no matter how much time would pass, things would never quite be the same again.

Playing with the hem of your dress, you smiled softly. “But I wanted to wear it today, it was a special occasion.”

Special occasion his ass. It was fucking freezing out here and all you were wearing was that summer dress. His brow knitted as you puffed out your cheeks, breath visible, and he wasn’t so sure he wanted to leave you out here when it was so cold out.

“I’m sorry.” Bakugou apologized quietly as you lost interest in toying with the pale blue satin and folded your hands neatly in your lap.

At your questioning gaze, he suppressed the urge to roll his eyes but heat crept up his neck.

“For storming out on the celebration you planned, dumbass.” He grumbled, flicking you on the forehead in a similar fashion hat you had done earlier.

Whining, you held onto your forehead as you made an exaggeration of pain. He rolled his eyes at your antics and you giggled, snuggling further into his side.

“You’re warm.” You mused.

Bakugou scowled, cheeks still pink from the embarrassment tingling through his whole body. “Oi, are you fucking ignoring m—”

“Of course not.” You retorted, pinching his side in retaliation for the flick he gave you before your voice dropped a little. “It’s just— There isn’t anything you need to apologize for. I understand.”

Those words, they were so simple and yet, warmth bloomed in his chest from how they fell from your lips.

And he could see that you were truly genuine.

He had rejected your kindness earlier when Kirishima had told him you had planned out all of this for him. He had never quite been accustomed to generously that lacked a price or some kind of condition.

Then again, he had never met someone quite like you.

As you rested against his shoulder, Bakugou took the empty beer bottle from you and placed it on the other side of him so that you didn’t break it and cut yourself when you woke up from your little nap.

He gazed out into the city that had caused him so much misery and wondered how it was even possible for someone like you to exist.

Birthdays, he still hated them, but maybe, just maybe, he could start to heal.

It would start by telling that old man that you fucking needed a new place to sleep that wasn’t the goddamn roof.

It was a good thing he knew just the place you could go.

Brushing back the hair out of your eyes, he allowed a small smile to form on his face as you breathed softly, evenly and he smirked against the top of your head as a thought crossed his mind. And even though he knew you couldn’t hear him, he still murmured quietly.

“How do you feel about seagulls and sand, princess?”

268 notes · View notes

thebadgerclan · 4 years

Text

Harry Potter Masterlist 2

FIRST MASTERLIST HERE

** indicates smut

Harry Potter x reader

Self-Critical- After a raid goes wrong, Harry finds solace in your arms and the bath...

Better**- Your plans got rained out, but you don’t mind...

Better Than Treacle**- Better than treacle, now that’s saying something...

Safe Now- When he’s with you, he knows he’s safe...

Secrecy- It has to stay between you, it just does...

On The Line- Harry won’t risk your life...

Wrong Order- Harry doesn’t regret last night at all...

Caught- Sex in your parents’ house isn’t a good idea...

Just Be Yourself- Harry gets some relationship advice from his godfather...

Under The Stars- A warm summer night under the stars...

My Baby- Sometimes, Harry needs to hear how much you love him...

In Time- It doesn’t feel real yet, but it will, in time...

Just Another Teenager- Harry’s just another teenager...

Pretty Damn Cool- Harry teaches you to cast a Patronus...

Hermione Granger x reader

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet**

Fred Weasley x reader

A Little Bit Of Fun**- Fred decided to have a little fun with you today...

Perfect**- There are so many words to describe your boyfriend...

Sweet- Complementary desserts and diamond rings...

George Weasley x reader

For Years- He’s waited for 2 years, he’ll love you for so many more...

Pay Attention- George can’t seem to pay attention at Order meetings...

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet**

Flying- You conquer your fear of flying...

Cat and Mouse- George thinks your costume is positively adorable...

Charlie Weasley x reader

Being Married To Charlie HCs

Charlie As A Dad HCs

Domestic Life w/ Charlie HCs

Dating Charlie HCs

Bill Weasley x reader

Being Married To Bill HCs

Smut HCs**

Yet**- You haven’t gone that far yet, but tonight, you will...

Oliver Wood x reader

Mo Leannan- Oliver’s training sessions run late...

The Alchemist- He’s not the best with words, but he’ll tell you how much he loves you every day...

Not A Beater- Oliver isn’t a beater, that’s for damn sure...

Not As Beautiful As You- Oliver takes you to a beautiful waterfall, but it’s not the most beautiful thing there...

Busy Week- You’ve both been so busy and you miss your boyfriend...

Victory**- You help Oliver celebrate after winning the Quidditch Cup...

Tom Riddle x reader

The Only Exception- Tom doesn’t care that you’re muggle born

The Dark Lord and His Dark Lady- While he sometimes doubts, you are his and he is yours...

Anniversary- Yours and Tom’s third anniversary...

Draco Malfoy x reader

A Different Side- Draco can let his walls down around you...

The Price Of Being A Malfoy- You’re everything his family isn’t...

Lucius Malfoy x reader

Real Love- Lucius truly loves you...

Regardless- Lucius doesn’t care what anyone else thinks...

No One Better- He thinks that after all he’s done, you deserve better...

Work Of Art- Your art is the most beautiful he’s ever seen...

Satisfied**- Lucius’ cock always leaves you satisfied...

Whenever You’re Ready- Lucius adores you in every single way, but he’ll wait until you’re ready...

Being Insecure About Small Breasts w/ Lucius**

Heal Your Broken Heart- Your heart’s been broken, but Lucius wants to fix it...

Sex w/ Lucius HCs**

Day Off**- Lucius takes a day off, and spend it teasing you...

Never Felt Like This- Lucius has never felt like this about anyone...

All Yours- Lucius gets jealous, even though you’re all his...

Star- Lucius never realized how famous you are...

I Am Yours- You’re disheartened when you find out that Lucius has mistresses, but he is yours and yours alone...

SFW Alphabet

Watch Yourself**- When you’re feeling down, Lucius shows you just how perfect you are...

NSFW Alphabet**

Lucius w/ a Virgin Reader HCs**

Lucius Comforting a Sad Reader HCs

Jealous/Possessive Lucius HCs

Ruined News- His actions ruined your good news, not that he’d care at this point...

Kissing HCs

Lunch Break**- You visit Lucius on his lunch break...

Oral HCs**

Pretty Girl**- You like it when Lucius tells you how well you’re doing...

All Of You**- You’re ready to give Lucius all of you...

So Good**- His teasings fell so good, but you need more...

Body Worship HCs**

Lucius As A Soft Dom HCs**

Collar- Picking out your first collar...

Rules**- You broke a rule...

Newt Scamander x reader

Second Niffler- Newt and Phil see your form for the first time...

Never Felt Happier- Newt has never been happier than he is right now...

Sham- Newt will remind as many times as he has to: you are not a sham...

Always Protect You- Newt won’t let anyone or anything hurt you...

Not Always Innocent- Newt always assumes they’re innocent...

A Few Drinks- After a few drinks, Newt has to remind you that you’re together...

Still Like You More- Newt is afraid to take you into the case...

A Fire Burning In My Heart- You feel exactly what the lyrics say...

Trying To Tell You- All week, you’ve tried to tell him...

Racing Hearts- You make his heart race, and he makes yours race...

His Shirt**- Newt can’t resist you, seeing you in his shirt...

That Time Of The Month-Newt takes care of you during your period...

Take Care Of My Baby**- When Newt wakes up hard, you take care of him...

Pretty Kitty- Animagi take on traits of their forms, but Newt doesn’t know about yours...

Lonely- Newt’s been working constantly on his book...

Lost Niffler- A lost niffler leads to a new relationship...

Jealous of the Niffler- He knows it’s silly, but he’s still jealous...

Cedric Diggory x reader

I Know I’m In Love- Cedric had an amazing afternoon...

Make A Move- He knows how you feel, but he’s waiting for you to make the first move...

Back To Her- He was so scared he wouldn’t come back to you...

A Bit Nervous- Cedric’s a bit nervous to ask you to the Yule Ball...

Spicing Things Up**- It might not have been a very productive conversation, but you’ve certainly spiced things up...

Life After- You both dream of a life after the war...

Broom Cupboard- The Head Boy and Girl caught snogging...

NSFW Alphabet**

SFW Alphabet

Here (TW: ABUSE MENTIONS)- Your brother shows up at Hogwarts...

The Golden Boy’s First**- Cedric’s first time...

Neville Longbottom x reader

December Afternoons- A picnic in the snow...

Spin The Bottle- Fred and George introduce a muggle party game...

Soul Marks and Nifflers- He was afraid he’d never find you...

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet**

Staying In**- The two of you stay in today...

Lily Evans x reader

New Record**- You’ve never done 5 before...

Chilled- Quidditch in the cold...

Oral HCs**

Braids and Patroni- Lily braids your hair while you work on your homework...

Burnt**- You get a bit distracted while Lily’s baking...

Broken Hearts and Friendships- You won’t put her through that stress anymore...

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet**

James Potter x reader

Dating James HCs

Best/Worst Things About James HCs

Serious James HCs

Domestic Life w/ James HCs

Oral HCs**

Sirius Black x reader

The Man I Fell In Love With**- He’s changed, but he’s still the man you fell in love with...

Got It Bad- Though Gryffindor lost, Sirius is extraordinarily happy...

Home Safe- They both come home that night...

Her First Match- You wouldn’t miss this match for the world

Handsome- You see Sirius shirtless...

Distracted- Your thoughts are anywhere but the meeting...

Part 2: Puppy**- Sirius knows how to please you...

Oral HCs**

Want Him**- He wants you and you want him...

First Christmas After- His first Christmas as a free man...

Take Care Of You**- Sirius needs you to take care of him...

Jealous/Possessive HCs

Blankets- The heat’s out, but you don’t mind...

Sentenced- Halloween night in Godric’s Hollow...

Starlight- Sometimes, Sirius can’t believe he’s really home...

Padfoot’s Lament- Now he’s free, but you are gone...

A Nap, Interrupted**- Sirius interrupts your nap, but you’re not upset...

My Idiot- Sirius thought it was a good idea to climb the Whomping Willow

Our House, Our Home- Your house doesn’t smell like home, which distresses your Omega...

Picking Out Your Baby’s Name w/ Sirius

Sirius Black Reacting To You Telling Him “I Don’t Date People Prettier Than Me”

Convince Me- He’ll spend the rest of his life convincing you he’s not a player if that’s what you want...

My Good Puppy**- Sirius’ behavior has earned him a reward...

All I Need- You don’t need dates or fancy dinners...

Seconds Away- Death was seconds away from both of you...

Face**- Sirius wants you to sit on his face...

1,095 Days- Three years, and this is how you’re repaid...

SFW Alphabet

A Hero’s Death- Sirius finds out what really happened to Regulus...

Return The Favor**- Sirius’ stamina is a bit low, but you don’t mind...

Can’t Hurt You Here- He doesn’t quite believe it yet, but nothing can hurt him here...

Different Scent- Sirius comes home, but your scent is different...

The Art of Distraction- Sirius is infinitely skilled in the art of distraction...

Hellscape- These raids are dangerous...

Brother’s Best Friend- Dating your brother’s best friend, what could go wrong?

Out In The Open- It’s all out in the open now...

Enjoy The View- You get a glimpse of your man fresh out of the shower...

Failed Exam- He’ll always be there to make you feel better...

Remus Lupin x reader

Rough and Hard**- As it turns out, Remus isn’t always so tender...

Hurt (platonic)- When you’re hurt on a mission, Sirius jumps to a conclusion...

Vacation**- A week of relaxation...

Dating Remus HCs

Creatures Of The Night- You’ve known since you met...

Best/Worst Things About Remus HCs

Moony’s Needs**- Moony needs you...

Part 2: Pack- You’re part of his pack...

Domestic Life/ Kids w/ Remus HCs

Being Insecure About Small Breasts w/ Remus

Confident, Lycanthropy Accepting Remus HCs

Dating Remus Since 4ht Year & Being Couple Goals HCs

Oral HCs**

The Rest Of Your Life- Graduation’s almost here...

Getting Eaten Out From Behind HCs**

Mornings w/ Kids HCs

Tomorrow Isn’t Promised**- Tomorrow isn’t promised, but right now, you can push those thoughts aside...

Spanking In The Dorms/Prefect’s Bathroom HCs**

Sex At Hogwarts HCs**

Recuperation-Like every month, you care for your lover after the full...

My Forever- You’re his forever, he knows that for certain...

Honeymoon HCs

The Marauders Coming To Visit Your New Baby HCs

Her Big Bad Wolf- The annual Gryffindor Halloween Party...

The Healer’s Day Off- Every month, you take time off to care for you love...

Scents- Your scent changed, and Moony isn’t quite sure why...

Grind**- Remus finds you when you don’t show up for dinner...

The Forest- A trip into the forest gone wrong...

Mine Alone**- He’ll let him watch, but you’re his and his alone...

Pink- It happened with no words...

Nicknames- Remus discovers your new favorite nickname...

Panda In The Forest- This bear definitely doesn’t belong here, but Moony knows who it is...

Vulnerable**-Sometimes, Remus can let himself be vulnerable...

Transformation- Remus is suspicious of how much time you’re spending with Sirius...

Everything To Me- Remus’ insecurities get to him, but you remind him that he is everything to you...

After The Battle- Remus comes to you after the battle...

Your Kiss- The first kiss of many...

Provide For You- You have more than enough money to provide for him...

NSFW Alphabet**

Beautiful Body- After someone comments on your body, Remus helps you feel better...

SFW Alphabet

Months- Remus has liked you for months, but he’s shy...

Professor Lupin’s “Assistant”**- An evening spent between Professor Lupin and his “assistant”...

What You Want To Call Me**- Remus isn’t what you want to call him...

More Pregnant**- Remus know he can’t get you more pregnant, but at the moment, he doesn’t care...

Safe and Loved- After the full moon, Remus needs to feel protected...

Perfect Evening- Your dress might be ruined, but your evening is not...

Dangerous- Even something as simple as going to the store is dangerous now...

His Alpha’s Arms- Remus is overjoyed to be back in his Alpha’s arms...

Battle Scars- His scars are marks of strength...

Interrupted- Yours and Remus’ make out is interrupted...

Trading Jabs- It’s all in good fun...

Quiet Down- The office isn’t warded...

Severus Snape x reader

The Two Of Us- It’s been so long since you’ve had time together...

First Place- He knew you could do it...

Full Marks**- You’ll do anything to raise your grade...

So In Love With You- The rest of your lives is ahead of you...

Lioness- Severus didn’t want to go to the party, but you still find a way to help him enjoy himself...

After Everything- He deserves more than you can give, but you’re his nonetheless...

One Little Thing- Arguments happen, but it still hurts...

It Was You- You’ll always defend him, even in the past...

Good Boy**- Severus is many things, but above all, he is yours in many ways...

Cheetah and Bat- Seeing your Animagus inspires Severus to give it another try...

The Perfect Day- Any day is a perfect day when he’s with you...

Be Still**- Severus needs to grade these exams, but you’re both wanting each other...

Nerves**- While you’re both nervous, you both want this...

Different- Even though you just met, you can tell he’s different...

Ink- Severus never took you for the type to have tattoos...

Years Of Yearning- Severus is able to live through a book, years of yearning being somewhat satisfied...

Mistletoe**- Christmas break is finally here...

I Can’t Lose You- The world is dangerous, and he can’t lose you...

Hard- Severus helps you to relax when the world becomes a bit too much...

The Perfect Day- You plan a day out for your lover...

Sweet Affections- Severus loved being in your arms...

The Mark- He has to tell you...

Not Your Fault- He blames himself...

Figure It Out- After Dumbledore fell...

Midnight Patrols-You can’t sleep when he’s not here..

Mistake- The messenger of the prophecy...

Better Off- If this is how you’ll act, he’s better off without you..

Part 2: His Fragile Heart- He was wrong, and he wants you back

Fantasize**- Severus sees your classtime fantasies...

Severus Getting Married To An American Reader So He Can Vote Against Tr*mp HCs

A Life Without You (TW: SUICIDE)- He can’t live without you...

Those Three Little Words- You love each other more than anything, but you seldom say those three little words...

Being Insecure About Small Breasts w/ Severus

Good Grades**- Good grades pay off...

Coming Clean- At your graduation, secrets are revealed

Sex w/ Severus HCs**

Dating Severus and Being A Professor HCs

Kissing HCs

Oral HCs**

Happy Birthday, My Love- The morning of his birthday...

Not All That Bad- Severus shows you that Slytherin isn’t all that bad...

Pick You-You watch The Bachelor with Severus...

Deep Inside**- Severus won’t let you come until he’s deep inside you...

After Everything- After everything he’s done, you still want to be his, forever...

Jealous/Possessive HCs

They Won’t Know**- Severus wants you, and he doesn’t care who sees...

Severus With A Virgin Reader HCs**

The Best Addiction- You’re addicted to him, as he is to you...

See Your Worth- When you’re feeling inadequate, Severus shows you how much he loves you...

Only You- A night spent with your love...

Few Weaknesses- You discover one of Severus’ few weaknesses...

Protective HCs

Hold On For Me- In that moment, it was the only option...

The Most Beautiful Sound- The students mock your accent, but Severus adores it...

Feel The Same- Severus doesn’t want to ruin your friendship...

Never Hurt You (TW: PAST ABUSE)- You know he’ll never hurt you...

Wake Up Call**- You enjoy waking Severus up, between his legs, that is...

Prima Donna- Severus helps you relax after weeks of rehearsals...

The Great White Way- Severus’s jealousy flares seeing you on stage with another man...

Where You Go, I Go (TW: SUICIDE)- You’ll follow wherever he goes...

Beautiful, Gorgeous, Perfect- Severus knows that you feel insecure sometimes, and he knows how to make you feel better...

What Better Wat To Wake Up?**- Severus wakes you up in a very pleasant way...

New Toys**- Severus brings home some new toys...

Only Yours**- Severus makes sure you know you’re his...

Like This**- Severus wants you just like this...

The Letter- You never planned to send it...

Giving and Receiving**- Tonight, you’re both giving and receiving...

Craving Affection-You’re craving Severus’ affection, and he’s more than happy to give it to you...

Obscenely Affectionate**- Valentine’s Day, an excuse to be obscenely affectionate, an excuse which Severus willingly takes...

Your Grace**- Severus teaches you the wonders of the marriage bed...

Hufflepuff At Heart- You may not be a witch, but Severus knows you’re a badger

Restless- You’re on a mission for the Order, and Severus is worried...

Severus Comforting A Sad Reader HCs

Nothing Like Him- Part of him can’t believe you want to have kids with him...

Beauty In Everything- You find beauty in everything, even in things others don’t find beautiful...

Domestic Life w/ Sev HCs

New Style- You braid Severus’ hair...

Not A Dream- Though it feels like a dream, you assure him it isn’t...

Shooting Stars- Everyone wishes on shooting stars, but you already have everything you want...

Smile- It doesn’t matter how big or small it is, Severus will do anything to see you smile...

You’re Mine**- When Severus’ assistant gets a little too friendly, you remind your husband who he belongs to...

An Amazing Father- Severus is afraid of fatherhood, but you know you’ll be alright...

Pretty Little Prefect**- The monthly prefect’s meeting...

Such A Good Job**- You’ve done such a good job pleasuring yourself, Severus wants you to finish it...

Bath Bombs- Severus puts his own touch on muggle bath bombs...

Captivity- His worst nightmare was coming true...

No More- It was just too much...

Nesting- Your heat’s a few days away...

Keep No Secrets- Severus knows he has to tell you, but he’s terrified...

Lots of Practice- Severus has never kissed anyone before...

Happy Anniversary- Your second wedding anniversary with Severus...

Keep You Safe-You know Severus will keep you safe, especially from other Alphas...

Need To See Him- You need to see him, to make sure he’s alright...

All Mine**- When Lucius gets a little too friendly, Severus reminds you that you’re all his...

Be On Top**- Severus wants you to be on top for the first time...

Missed You**- After nearly a week in London, you return home...

Perfectly Fine- Severus takes care of you after a prank gone wrong, and feelings are revealed...

A Galaxy Far, Far Away- You introduce Severus to Star Wars...

Need You Here- After a nightmare, you need your husband by your side...

Long Weekend**- While you don’t make it to most of your plans, you and Severus still enjoy yourselves...

A Little Risky**-You and Severus have some fun at the Order meeting...

Snowball Fight-A snowball fight with your husband...

Finally Home- Your fiance returns home after a month and a half...

Unbothered**- Severus’ isn’t bothered by your period, he still wants to taste you...

NSFW Alphabet**

SFW Alphabet

My Perfect, Beautiful Man**- You give Severus some much needed praise and attention...

Never Cheat On You- Severus thinks you’re cheating, but he couldn’t be farther from the truth...

Slow, Tender, and Sensual**- Your first time with Severus is everything you wanted: slow, tender, and sensual...

The Only Woman I’ll Ever Love- Severus didn’t listen to her, you’re the only women he’ll ever love...

My Princess- For your birthday, Severus treats you like the princess you are...

Spare A Dance For Me- You help Severus teach the Slytherins to dance...

Validation**- Severus craves validation, and you’re more than willing to give it...

Hands**- You watch Severus while he brews. Well, you watch his hands...

Sweet Spot**- Severus’ sweet spot makes him feel so good...

Grateful- One year after the battle...

Your Heart Is A Treasure- Severus won’t treat you like they did...

The Matron’s Assistant- You return to Hogwarts, and find more than just work...

Make A Bad Day Better- You always make bad days better...

Always Yours- It doesn’t matter what anyone says or does, you’re always his...

Throne**- Severus makes you feel like a queen, especially in bed...

Discipline- You’ve always been light on discipline with your daughter...

Don’t Give A Damn- You don’t give a damn that Severus is younger than you, but he’s still insecure...

Precipice**- Severus decides to play a little game with you...

Not A Prank- He’s convinced it’s a prank by the Marauders...

Caught- The twins catch you and Severus in an intimate moment...

Nocturnal Conversations- Severus converses with you while you sleep-talk...

The Right Time- It just felt like the right time to ask...

With You- He never thought you could be happy with him...

Eyes On Me**- You want him to look at you when he comes...

My Vow To You- His vow to you trumps all others...

Show You How**- Severus teaches you how to suck his cock...

Bare Face- Severus sees you for the first time without makeup...

Let It Out- After someone shouts at you, Severus makes you feel better...

Denied**- Severus is needy, but you’re busy...

Perfectly Valid- Severus loves you just as you are...

The Bigger Man- He needs to be the bigger man with Lupin...

Every Inch**- Severus wants to kiss every inch of you...

Every Part- You love every part of him, even the parts he doesn’t...

Get Away- A vacation with your family...

Still New- Your relationship is still so new, you can’t help but be a little flustered...

Entirely Real- You can’t believe that this is really happening...

Cared For- After the full moon, you just need to be cared for...

Little Tease**- Your choice of attire gets Severus a little riled up...

Argument/Making Up HCs

Severus as a Soft Dom HCs**

Too Good**- He just couldn’t hold back...

His Turn- You’ve cared for him, now it’s his turn to care for you...

Twice the Fun**- Severus’ new potion gives twice the fun...

Tail-End**- It might be the tail-end of your heat, but you’re still needing him...

Overwhelmed (platonic)- When things feel overwhelming, help comes from an unlikely person...

My Misstress’ Eyes Are Nothing Like The Sun- When Severus is assigned midnight patrol, you can’t sleep...

Have You Right Here- Your Alpha always knows how to make you feel better...

Severus Snape x reader x Remus Lupin

Now**- After your lovers tease you, you need them now

Punishments and Pleasure**- While the evening began in a punishment, it ended with immense pleasure...

Filled**- A morning in the library..

Waited For You**- You’ve been gone for two days, but your lovers waited for you...

Forgot The Charm**- The three of you seemed to have forgotten the silencing charm...

Remus Lupin x reader x Sirius Black

He’s Home- He’s home, and he needs you...

Life w/ Kids HCs

Happy Birthday- Remus and Sirius treat you on your birthday...

Their Job- They’re your alphas, it’s their job to take care of you...

Help You Feel Good**- Your lovers show you how to use your new toy...

His Beautiful Loves**- Remus loves to watch, but he also loves to join in...

Cuddles- You join your lovers on the couch...

How Do You Want Us?**- Remus fucks you while you fuck Sirius...

SFW Alphabet

Noisy Little Thing**- You need to be quiet, lest the whole Order hear...

Broken Collar- It was an accident, but you’re still very upset about it...

Severus Snape x reader x Lucius Malfoy

Impersonations- It’s all in good fun...

More Than Desperate**- After your lovers tease you all day, you’re more than desperate for them...

Insatiable**- You can’t get enough...

Needy**- Your period makes you horny, and your men certainly aren’t complaining...

Good Beta**- Your Beta takes care of you until your Alpha comes home...

Tonight**- Tonight, they will have them, and they will have you...

Full**- Both your men fill you up...

Feeling Needy**- Severus is feeling needy today...

Snuggles- After a long day, the three of you want to be close...

Fuck Waiting**- They can’t wait anymore, you look too sexy...

Overworked- When school take its toll, your lovers are there...

James Potter x reader x Remus Lupin

Sensual**- Slow, sweet, and sensual...

New Heights**- James and Remus take your pleasure to new heights...

Being Married To, Honeymoon, Sex w/, Twins w/ Remus and James HCs

Wedding HCs

A Future With Them- You can’t wait for the future

Yourself**- They want you to make yourself come...

Good Together**- Remus thinks you two look so good together...

Scars**- You show Remus just how perfect he is...

What Their Home Is Like HCs

Remus and James As Parents HCs

Cedric Diggory x reader x Harry Potter

Dating Cedric and Harry HCs

Cedric Diggory x reader x Hermione Granger

Domestic Life HCs

Sex HCs**

James Potter x reader x Lily Evans

First Heat**- Your first heat...

Harry Potter x Severus Snape

Through It All- Harry has been there through it all...

Paradise- Harry takes his husband away for a week...

Good Boy**- Severus loves being Harry’s good boy...

Slipped His Mind**- Severus forgets something important...

Unwavering- Harry’s support and love for his husband is unwavering...

My Perfect Boy**- When Severus is feeling insecure, his Daddy helps him see...

Much Better**- After a bad day, Harry helps Severus feel better...

James Potter x Lily Evans

James and Lily As Friends HCs

Everyone Can See- Everyone can see they’re falling for each other...

Sirius Black x Lily Evans

Sirius x Lily HCs

Other

Marauders x an Ilvermorny Transfer HCs

#the badger clan masterlist #half blood princess masterlist #masterlist

806 notes · View notes

millllenniawrites · 4 years

Text

warmth (Poe Dameron x Reader)

words: 5.6k yes it is the longest thing on this blog shush

summary: The Resistance’s victory celebration quickly turns sour when their trusted Commander, Poe Dameron, recognizes a toxin in the air. This favourite doctor is the only one he trusts with the information he has. You’re the only one you trust to look after him.

warnings: smut (this is 18+ people); afab!reader; porn with plot; sex pollen so that automatically makes it dubcon; doctor!reader; swearing, drugs, dirty talk, Poe Dameron is so whiny when he’s horny holy fuck; bondage; oral (f receiving); unprotected sex (wrap it up folks); pet names (good girl, honey, sweetheart, baby); this relies on Poe’s spice runner past (the one I use in Helix, not the gross canon one) but it’s not directly dealt with and it’s super vague

a/n: I was trying to find a place to feature Kade Sol who is my baby sunshine light of my life from the Helix series and I snuck him in here! also this was a worldbuilding writing exercise that somehow turned into the filthiest smut I’ve ever written so there’s that

As the last First Order ship disappeared from the sky, a victory cry sounded through the Resistance fighters. Poe Dameron landed on the tarmac of Cida’s Travel Station, popping the hood of his X-Wing. He grinned, watching the rest of Black and Blue squadron land around him, all hopping out of their ships and rejoicing on the deck.

They didn’t lose anyone in the air today. That alone was cause for celebration.

It had been three weeks of trying to break the First Order’s blockade on the Cida system. King Caran had graciously accepted the help of the Resistance, backed by the New Republic’s ships, and allowed them to set up a temporary base on Cida Prime. In exchange for liberating their system, His Majesty had granted the Resistance usage of their hyperspace lanes, which would cut the transport time from the Hosnian system to D’Qar in half. An easy trade, if anyone had bothered to ask Poe.

Which no one did, these days. But he was doing his best.

Kade, his captain, shook him from his thoughts as he called from the ground, “The King is asking for you, Dameron.”

He dropped out of his ship, quickly hugging Kade, grateful as always to have his best friend by his side, before jogging into the command centre of the makeshift air base, where King Caran and Admiral Ackbar were waiting.

“Commander Dameron,” the King’s booming voice sounded through the small room as Poe entered.

Poe bowed low, nearly folding himself completely in half. “Your Majesty.”

A pair of Cidan guards’ in navy uniforms flanked him as he trailed behind the King and Ackbar. Poe found himself tuning out the negotiations, agreeing with Ackbar on instinct as the two men spoke. They took more twists and turns than Poe could count. He began marking various basins, leaking different coloured smoke as landmarks, in case he needed to find his way out.

Not that he thought the King wasn’t deserving of their trust. This was a war. He just wasn’t going to risk it.

As they entered what appeared to be the King’s office, Poe felt almost out of place. Like he was floating, a gentle burning feeling in his gut the only thing grounding him.

In a turn of events Poe was not expecting, he found himself missing you.

He loved Kade. Of course, he loved Kade. His second. His partner in crime. But the flight home was sure to be a boring one without you.

It wasn’t tradition, necessarily. But each time the two of you had taken a mission together, it had been a resounding success. And on your way home, he’d celebrated between your legs.

And you’d taken care of him after, like the good girl he knew you were.

The burning moved lower, a sweet smell settling in his nose. One Poe recognized, from a time before the New Republic Navy.

Fuck.

Voice panicked, “King Caran,” Poe stood, realizing he had interrupted the King. Breathing heavily, he scanned the room, eyes locking on a small stone in the corner. It sat on a warming plate, small tendrils of yellow smoke disappearing into the air.

Caran laughed, following Poe’s gaze. “You know your therapies, my boy.” The man seemed… pleased. Proud. “A gift, from us to you.”

“With all due respect, your Majesty,” Poe coughed, a phantom of the sensation he had only felt once before aching deep in his lungs. “Most organisms outside of the Cidan’s can’t handle Stiima the way your graciousness can.”

“My apologies, my friend. We thought that it would help to calm things. For negotiations, of course.” Caran met Ackbar’s eyes, anxiety evident. “Please understand it is simply the way we celebrate such a great success as we have seen today.”

“I understand, your Majesty.” Ackbar side-eyed Poe, concern evident. “Are you alright, Commander?”

The ringing in Poe’s ears drowned out the last of their conversation. The next thing he knew, he was back on the tarmac, shouting, “Kade. Get everyone in the air. Now.”

He beelined for his shuttle, locking himself in the cockpit. Hand clenching as he felt himself relax into the passenger seat, the pain of his nails digging into his palm grounding him.

“Poe, you good?” Kade banged on the door.

He didn’t answer, focusing on the

Kade finally got the door open. “Poe, what the fuck?”

“Fly.” Poe said through gritted teeth. “I need you to fly.”

So Kade did.

They didn’t dock to the main carrier, flying above it. They would wait until it jumped to hyperspace before they followed.

Poe watched as fighter after fighter flew into the large ship. Ears filled with cotton, he barely heard Ackbar’s order over the comms for anyone in a shuttle to stay away from the ship.

Code Orange.

Quarantine protocol.

Poe couldn’t stop his mind from going back to you. The last time you were on mission together. The way your mouth felt.

Your eyes.

The innocent way you would smile, naked and spread out under him…

“Poe?” Kade asked, sitting forward in his seat. “Are you alright?”

Poe hit a comm button on his dash, connecting him directly to command.

“Commander Dameron, are you alright?” A young man’s voice came through his headset.

“I need you to connect me to med.”

“Is someone—”

“Connect me to med, officer. I need to speak with the doctor.”

You opened the hull door of Poe Dameron’s shuttle, a small case of bacta and other various medications tucked under your arm. Coughing into your mask as you entered the dark ship, you quickly located the panel to seal the door behind you, saluting the mech on the ground that would lock you in after the door eased shut.

The convoy had landed hours ago. The medic team had been slowly working through shuttles, administering antidotes to those that could take them.

It wasn’t poison. You’d ruled that out early. But the obvious effects of dehydration were evident. Poe seemed to know what it was, from the way he sounded in the recording Ackbar had passed off to med, but no one else was familiar with the symptoms everyone seemed to be presenting.

Looking around, you stayed still for a moment, letting your eyes adjust to the dark. You had been in his shuttle before; you knew you were in the cargo bay, and if you followed the wall to your right, you would find the ladder that would lead you to the cockpit. Your mission. The plan. Assessing Poe and Captain Kade Sol’s symptoms.

But if you went to the left and pushed the thin black curtain aside, you would find the small closet that served as his bed on long missions.

Your bed, when you joined him.

It was hard not to smile, remembering the long nights in hyperspace with the famous Commander. The way his curls tangled around your fingers. How his stubble felt against the inside of your thighs…

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you shook your head with a small embarrassed laugh and began to work your way to the ladder.

Even with the grey cloth pulled tight across your mouth and nose, you could still smell the musk of the air, heavy in your lungs. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it had a true weight to it, like slightly overripe fruit or warm spices, much worse than the three shuttles you had cleared before this. The rungs of the ladder were warm like the air, slick with moisture, a telltale sign that Poe and Kade had done as asked. There had been no air circulating in the ship since they landed. If any of the airborne toxins had gotten into the ship, it wouldn’t have had the chance to escape outside.

You smiled as your hands brushed their oxygen canisters, hearing the slow leak of fluid. Always thorough, Dameron…

Your hands grazed the small railing that guarded the catwalk to the cockpit as you made your way down to the sealed door.

“Commander Dameron? Captain Sol?” you called, hoping they could hear you through the dense metal. “It’s Doctor--”

The hiss of the door caused you to jump and you stepped back, taking in the form of the Captain. The large man nearly filled the doorway, dark clothes making it difficult to see him in the blackness of the ship. “I know who you are. Command came through a little while ago.” His voice as gruff as always, but he said it with a smile. “I’ve had no symptoms, but I figure you still need to check me out?”

“Yes, Captain.” You nod, “If you wouldn’t mind going back into the cockpit for me…”

He grumbled something you couldn’t make out but did what you asked, sitting in the only passenger seat in the small room, empty save for them.

“Where’s Commander Dameron?” you asked as you knelt in beside Kade, fingers on his wrist.

You ran through the basics of your training as he talked.

“Poe didn’t get so lucky. Got hit worse than most people, from what we’ve heard. He was in the King’s office. Said something about a… diffuser?” When you nodded, he seemed to relax. “That’s why he made the call. Asked me to lock him up until a medic got here. He was specifically asking for you, so I guess we got lucky.”

You were grateful for the dark, hiding the way you flushed. “Guess so.” Unable to hide the warmth in your voice, you gave Kade a small smile. “There isn’t a brig on this ship. Where—"

“His quarters. Stun cuffs magnetized to the wall.” He seemed almost embarrassed, ducking his head. “I’m not sure what’s wrong with him, exactly. Just that he hasn’t really stopped making noise since about twenty minutes after we landed.”

You hesitated. Generally careful about the information you give out to patients, you weren’t sure it would be appropriate to explain, but Kade and Poe were a package deal. Rarely did you see one without the other. They’d been joined at the hip since long before they had defected to the Resistance together.

“It’s a potent aphrodisiac.” You murmured, standing behind him and tilting his head to check for discolouration on his neck, “Most people got hit with… well, let’s call it Level 1 symptoms. Loose tongue. Unable to really control what they’re saying, or at least not thinking it through. Level 2 are action: making choices you wouldn’t ordinarily make. The… aphrodisiac part. If you get to level two, we’ve found they wear off in about three hours. No antidote needed. Just fluids and rest, after it all. But you’ve been in here almost a whole day…” and Poe’s condition hadn’t improved.

“Which means what? He’s at level 3?”

There wasn’t a level 3.

Coming around in front of Kade, you nodded slowly. “Was he complaining of… pain?” you flinched as you said the word, knowing the man had no idea what you were truly asking.

“Right before he asked me to gag him. He had moments he was lucid… basically told me to leave him locked up, no matter what he said.”

There was only one other person that had said the drug hurt, and she had been fine for a few hours now.

Kade chewed idly on his bottom lip, seemingly lost in thought. “Not easy being locked in while your best friend is raving like a madman.”

“The gag was a good call. He’ll thank you once he’s back to himself.” You tried for another smile. “You seem okay. Vitals are normal. Rosa is just outside. I’ll let her know that she can open the door. She’ll give you a mask and escort you to showers, and then back to your quarters. They’ll send a medical droid to check you out fully before you’re allowed to intermix with the base. Just in case.”

“Thank you, doc.” Kade stood, heading out the door to the rest of the shuttle. “Poe is—”

“I know.” You nodded, not really thinking through your words. “Closet. Curtain.”

Kade paused, turning to look at you for a moment. His eyebrow twitched, just slightly, before he dropped down the ladder. You appreciated that he hadn’t said anything, having a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t know you only off your medical reputation.

Your excursions with Poe were a relative secret, not wanting command to restrict you going on missions together because of your… you weren’t really sure what to call it. Enough people had stories about him that you knew you weren’t exclusive, but being with him was different. It had always been different.

Though you supposed all the people he took to bed could say the same thing.

You pushed the heavy curtain aside.

He was laid back on his cot, only one of his boots on. Poe struggled against his cuffs, attached to the wall above his head, and whined through the gag in his mouth. The bed squeaked and shook. It was a significantly less pleasant sound when you were standing there, not on top of him…

You shook your head quickly, a reminder that you were working, before you knelt on the ground next to Poe’s head. His eyes widened as he focused on you. Reaching for the fabric cutting into his cheeks, your fingertips grazed his jaw. “I’m gonna remove this, okay?” you murmured before eased the gag out of his mouth, letting the loop of dark cloth hanging around his neck.

“Sweetheart…” he whined the moment his mouth was free to move, his voice cracking around the dryness of his throat. You set your med case on the floor and opened it quickly, digging through bandages and bacta patches before finding what you needed. You lifted a small canteen to his lips, letting the water trickle into his mouth. He coughed, spluttering a little before he was tilting his head away, gasping, “Please, sweetheart. I need…”

You shushed him gently, swiping a cloth over his lips. Trying to distract him, you softened your voice, “You got everyone out before it could get bad, Poe. Everyone else is safe.”

He turned his head to look up at the ceiling, seeming to relax a little. Your eyes found his throat. Watching him breathe, swallow, reminded you of the way his skin tasted…

Fuck.

You coughed again into your mask, murmuring, “I’ll be right back.” and ignoring the way Poe whined as you let the curtain fall behind you.

Once you were a few steps away from him, you could breathe a little easier. The air was hot, fucking scalding through your mask, and you tilted your head back a bit to force yourself to breathe deeply. Slowly. Calmingly.

You reached up, touching the pad of the in-ear to firmly press it into your head, “Rosa? You copy?”

The woman’s high voice came through, louder than before. Her voice seemed to be directed straight into your skull. “Everything alright in there, doc?”

“Everything’s fine. Commander Dameron has symptoms we haven’t seen before and I think I’m contaminated. It’s not bad. I can work through it. But I’m going to take my comm out just in case.” You really didn’t need command hearing your unfiltered thoughts.

She grumbled, “Maker. You sure you’re alright?” You swore you could almost see the way her eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, Rosa. I’m good. Level 1 or less. Just make sure those doors stay locked until we come off it. Don’t open them for anyone. Even the General.”

She turned on the link long enough that you heard her laugh before she said, “Sounds good. If we need you, we’ll come through the cockpit.” A brief pause, “Stay safe, doc.”

“You too, Rosa.”

Pulling the plastic out of your ear, you double checked that you had it turned it off before returning to Poe’s side.

He relaxed the moment you were back in view, hips stilling on the bed. You tried not to stare at the obvious tent in his pants.

His eyes seemed to focus better than before, saying quietly, “I heard you. Talking to Rosa. You shouldn’t have touched me.”

He was right. It was probably your proximity to him that did it. But you had to do your job. That was your only priority, of course. Of course…

“Like I’ve ever been good at keeping my hands to myself with you around.” You froze as the words slipped past your lips, unable to stop them.

He didn’t seem bothered by the sudden accidental honesty, but his eyes glazed over again, trailing over you. “I miss your hands…” he groaned, biting his lip and sending a wave of heat through you.

“Careful, or I’m gonna put that gag back in.” Voice sounding forced even to your own ears, you sat down on the floor, your back resting against the bed.

He mumbled something you couldn’t quite understand, until he repeated himself. “Take yours off. The… the mask. If you’ve got it…”

He was right. If you’d already been exposed, there wasn’t any point in keeping it on. It was hot. There was no one in there but you. You weren’t hurting anyone. You could take the mask off. It would be fine. You—

“Sweetheart…” Poe groaned, rattling the cuffs.

You ripped the mask off your face, tossing it near your medical kit.

“G-good. Can you… can you please take my arms down, honey?” he tugged at the cuffs again. If you had turned to look at him, you would have seen the desperation you knew was painted across his features. “It hurts.”

His whine sent a pang of guilt through you. “Why did you know what the drug was?” you asked, hoping it would distract him.

“It’s used in party drugs. The way it burns… it’s not like anything else I’ve ever—” He shifted, trying to get more comfortable, despite the way his pants were twisted around his legs from hours of struggling. The fabric stuck against him and pulled, and he moaned, guttural and sweet and chipping away at the wall of self-control you had haphazardly built against him.

“Poe,” Meant to be chastising, the word landed somewhere in the realm of yearning and breathless.

“Anything, sweetheart. Please.” Rolling his head back and forth on the bedroll under his head, he sounded close to tears as he whined, “I think my dick is going to fall off if you don’t touch it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, helping to break the cloud of arousal circling your head. “I don’t think that’s a medically sound diagnosis, Commander.”

“Say that again…” he breathed.

“Medically—”

“No.”

Your sharp intake of breath was the only sound in the shuttle.

“Commander?”

He tilted his head back, groaning, “You say my title and I can’t stop thinking about being inside you.”

“It’s just the drugs.”

“You know it’s not just the drugs.” You could have sworn it was a growl with the way the low sound of his voice tore through you. “I need you to touch me, honey.”

“Will you stop talking if I do?”

“Come lay with me and give me one hand back. Then I’ll stop talking.”

Negotiating meant he was lucid, if only partially.

“I thought you said it makes it worse if I touch you.” You squeezed your eyes shut, like that could block out the image that his soft gasps conjured in your mind.

“It’ll get worse before it gets better.”

“Always got a fucking answer for everything…” You grumbled, but it worked. Carefully, you eased yourself up off the floor and onto his small cot and leaned over him. One ring of the cuffs released with the click of a few buttons.

After freeing the gag from around his neck and tossing it to the floor, Poe’s free hand immediately reached for you, gripping your thigh. Even though the thick fabric of your pants, you could feel how warm he was. “Sweetheart…”

“You said you’d stop talking.”

“Lay down. Lay down and I’ll stop talking.”

You had agreed to it. And when his fingers dug into your thigh and the wave of relief washed over you at his touch, you weren’t about to argue.

So you laid down, back to him, letting his free hand roam up and down your side. Under your shirt. Down under the top of your pants that he didn’t bother to undo. There wasn’t any focus to his movements. Where he touched you, you relaxed, and as his touch moved on, your skin burned.

You didn’t notice the high-pitched whine leaving your parted lips until Poe’s hand came to rest on your throat.

“Does it hurt?” He traced from your jaw to your collarbone, over and over, putting just enough pressure on your neck that you were gasping.

“N-no… Are you…? Does it hurt for you?”

“This is better. You being close makes it better.”

“It’s just warm.” That was the only way to describe it. It was like he had set you on fire. Everywhere he had touched ached.

He groaned, breath hot against your ear as he rutted his hips against you. “Let me help, sweetheart…” No amount of squirming was going to make the heat go away and you couldn’t figure out how he could be so slow about all of this. “I can make you feel good. I can make it go away. Please…” His fingers trailed across the exposed skin of your stomach, soothing the burning feeling that wracked your body.

You gripped his wrist, bringing his hand up under the hem of your shirt, needing his cooling touch. Arching your back, your ass grazed him and you groaned together.

“Please sweetheart.” he begged, voice low and sending vibrations through your back where he pressed against you. “Let my other hand down. I promise I’ll make it worth it.” He rattled the cuff still glued to the wall for good measure.

He didn’t have to ask you twice. Rolling over, you shoved him onto his back and swung a leg over his hips. Grinding down as you reached over him, you released his hands, leaving the cuffs on the wall, up and out of the way. He was quick to flip you onto your back, hand cradling the back of your head as his lips met your neck.

“Pretty girl…” Poe murmured as his hand tangled in your hair, wrenching your head back to expose your neck. “Such a pretty girl for me… so fucking sweet…”

“Poe… Poe, please.” The whine left you before you could fully decide what you were begging for. Just more. More of him. His hands on your body. His lips on your skin.

The heaviness of the air weighed you to the cot, your knees down to the thin mattress as he slotted himself between your legs – still fully clothed – and you fell apart in his arms. Gasping into his mouth, body convulsing, you could barely move with the way he was positioned above you. You couldn’t open your eyes. You could barely breathe with the way every small movement sent searing heat straight to your core.

“Fuck.” His dark eyes focused on your heaving chest. “Do that again.”

He fought with the ties on your pants, tearing the sides as he forced them down your legs, taking your underwear with them.

It was all you could do to keep from screaming as he sunk two fingers into you.

Each movement of his fingers battled the heat coursing through you and let you come back to yourself, if only for a moment. His other hand splayed out on your stomach to keep you still. He pushed your shirt up and you ripped it over your head.

Your head spun as you realized he was still completely clothed.

Leaning down, he sunk his teeth into the inside of your thigh. Where you expected pain, pleasure ran down your legs. Following his trail of bite marks with soft kisses, up closer to where you needed him, he blew softly on your folds and you cried out, bucking off the cot.

You could hear the squeaking of the bed as you squirmed. Each laboured breath Poe took as he nestled himself between your trembling legs. The rasp in his voice as he murmured, “...wettest fucking cunt I’ve ever seen...” before he lowered his face to meet the apex of your thighs.

His mouth on you didn’t offer the relief you were so desperately searching for. It somehow made it worse, every swipe of his tongue followed by a trail of fire.

You pushed at his head but he barely responded. “Poe… Poe please… I need your cock…”

He hummed lightly against you, his tongue working you slowly, like you weren’t threatening to burn up underneath him.

Finally, you grabbed onto a handful of his curls and pulled.

He only looked up in mild annoyance. Gripping your wrist tight, he forced your hand to the cot. “I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.” Though the words were soft, his tone was gruff.

Poe slowed his soft circles on your clit and you whined again, pushing up into his mouth. “Stay still.” He mumbled against you.

Each of his motions were so methodical, you could have sworn you were the only one dealing with symptoms. Until he glanced up at you with his almost-black eyes.

You stopped breathing.

You weren’t afraid. You could never be afraid of Poe. But you’d never seen him so unhinged. Like he was going to jump, and you were coming with him.

He snatched up both your wrists, leaning over you. Tipping your head back, you tried to kiss him but he moved further, up above your head.

In one quick motion, he locked both your hands in the cuffs on the wall.

“I need it. Please. I need--” He didn’t finish the sentence, hooking his hands under your knees and spreading you out for him. His tongue found your clit again and you couldn’t hear your own scream over the rush of blood in your head.

He’d always been accommodating. He took constructive criticism well and was determined to get you off, no matter what he had to relearn, when the two of you had fucked before.

Now, he took each of those little pieces and, like he’d been given the code to your body, he took you apart.

Every stroke of his tongue would have seemed planned if not for the way he moaned into your skin, the way he grinded his hips into the cot beneath him. You gave up fighting against the cuffs, instead focusing on rolling your hips against his face.

He held still, letting you move the way you wanted. Letting you use his tongue. Guiding your hips. It wasn’t until he set you down and you opened your eyes that you realized that he was dripping with you.

His chin glistened as he sat up and yanked his shirt over his head. His eyes didn't leave yours as he undid his pants, shucking them off and tossing them somewhere with his shirt. You didn't care. You didn’t care where his clothes were or where yours had disappeared to.

“My-- the cuffs. Poe, I need to touch you…”

Your hands were in his hair the moment he released you, pulling his mouth to yours. He tasted of you, and the heaviness in the air, and the familiarity of him that you’d grown so intoxicated by.

Ordinarily, he’d tease you. Just like this, your legs spread for him. He’d drag the head of his cock over you until you stopped threatening him, until you melted and became putty in his hands and your begging became wordless.

But he didn’t have the patience. You could see it in his face. He angled his hips, sliding into you slowly.

With this, there was relief. But it came as quick as it went and you were again whining under him, your cunt clenched tight around him.

He pushed deeper, his face tucked into your neck. “Relax, baby. Relax. You’re so-- so fucking…”

You didn’t know how he was going so slow. You didn’t know how he managed to stop, only halfway inside you.

All you knew was that you needed him.

You pulled his hips into yours. After two orgasms, there was no resistance. He bottomed out, gasping into your mouth. “Pretty girl…”

“Fu… Fuck me. Poe please please fuck me--” You pulled at his shoulders, his hair, grinding up into him as much as you could with him fully on top of you. “It hurts. Please…”

Whatever well of self control he’d been drawing from seemed to have dried up. Snapping his hips into yours, he kissed you.

His tongue dominated your mouth, not giving you space to breathe. Or think. Or do anything other than take what he was giving you. Your nails dug into his upper arms, leaving little crescent moons behind. His soft gasps of encouragement had you writhing beneath him.

“Perfect little… You take me so well, honey. Like you were fucking made for me…”

His words alone threatened to take you over the edge.

The burning came to a throbbing head in your core and you arched up into him, trying to pull him closer. Deeper. Anything to quell the fire inside you.

“Poe… Commander… P-please let me cum…” You weren’t in control of your words anymore. You weren’t in control of anything. “I need you.”

You wrapped your legs more tightly around him and his hips stuttered but he wasn’t stopping. Not for fucking anything.

“Let me feel you, pretty girl.” He growled against your neck.

And you unraveled.

The relief washed over you in waves as you lay beneath him. Between each peak, you could hear your own panting, feel the way your body fluttered around him.

You floated in the bliss.

Vaguely, you felt yourself roll over. Something cold dug into your side, but you couldn’t figure out how to move. Or figure out how to want to.

Your chest was still heaving as he traced along your ribs. A warm body came flush with your back. Fire trailed his dancing fingers.

“Sweetheart…” A soft moan at your ear. Breath, warm on your neck, sending a ripple through you. He pressed his hips forward, his hard cock sliding against your ass. “I need more. Please?”

You shifted your aching hips back towards him. “Please.”

You weren’t sure how long passed before you returned to normal – sated and thoroughly exhausted, but normal. Your skin no longer burned at the gentlest of touches. You could stand to look at him, to draw over the planes of his chest as he laid beside you without feeling the unyielding need for his cock inside you.

Your fingertips traced gently over the straining cords of muscle in his neck and he shuddered.

“You bit me.” He finally whispered.

You dissolved into a fit of giggles, curled up against his side. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you onto his chest.

“I’m sorry.” You laughed against his neck, kissing over the hickies you’d left behind.

“Don’t be. It was hot.”

“Where’d I bite you?” You propped yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him.

He tapped his upper arm, right underneath a series of bite marks. Ducking your head, you kissed over them, murmuring soft ‘I’m sorry’s between pecks.

“It’s okay. Really.” He tapped under your chin and you met his gaze. “Was that okay? We’ve never used cuffs or anything before and I’m really sorry--”

You kissed him to cut him off. “I’m okay. I trust you. You know that, right?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he rolled on top of you, an intensity in his eyes that would have scared you if you didn’t know him.

“I’m glad it was you.” Forehead pressed to yours, you shuddered as his soft breaths fanned across your lips. “I was hoping it would be you.”

Your breath caught. Gently, you brushed away the curls that fell in his face, tilting your face up and bringing your lips to his again.

He mumbled between kisses, “Can I take you for dinner?” You were too stunned to say anything, letting him kiss your bottom lip gently. He lingered at the corners of your mouth, leaving light kisses behind. “Hm? Will you let me take you out, sweetheart?”

“On a date?”

“If you don’t want it to be a date, it can just be a thank-you dinner--”

“It can be a date. Can it be a date?”

Giggling against your mouth, he said, “It can. I’d like it to be.”

“We should probably get out of this shuttle first.”

“Maybe put some clothes on before that?”

“Maybe.” Your nose brushed his. “Maybe I’d like to kiss you first.”

“Maybe I’ll let you.”

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron smut

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didanawisgi · 4 years

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Martin Luther King Jr., Guns, and a Book Everyone Should Read

BY JEREMY S. | JAN 15, 2018

“Martin Luther King Jr. would have been 89 years old today, were he not assassinated in 1968. On the third Monday in January we observe MLK Jr. Day and celebrate his achievements in advancing civil rights for African Americans and others. While Dr. King was a big advocate of peaceful assembly and protest, he wasn’t, at least for most of his life, against the use of firearms for self-defense. In fact, he employed them . . .

If it wasn’t for African Americans in the South, primarily, taking up arms almost without exception during the post-Civil War reconstruction and well into the civil rights movement, this country wouldn’t be what it is today.

By force and threat of arms African Americans protected themselves, their families, their homes, and their rights and won the attention and respect of the powers that be. In a lawless, post-Civil War South they stayed alive while faced with, at best, an indifferent government and, at worst, state-sponsored violence against them.

We know the Supreme Court’s Dred Scott decision of 1857 refused to recognize black people as citizens. Heck, they were deemed just three-fifths a person. Not often mentioned in school: some of that was due to gun rights. Namely, not wanting to give gun rights to blacks. Because if they were to recognize blacks as citizens, it…

“…would give to persons of the negro race . . . the right to enter every other State whenever they pleased, . . . and it would give them the full liberty of speech . . . ; to hold public meetings upon political affairs, and to keep and carry arms wherever they went.”

Ahha! So the Second Amendment was considered an individual right, protecting a citizen’s natural, inalienable right to keep and carry arms wherever they go. Then as now, gun control is rooted in racism.

During reconstruction, African Americans were legally citizens but were not always treated as such. Practically every African American home had a shotgun — or shotguns — and they needed it, too. Forget police protection, as those same officials were often in white robes during their time off.

Fast forward to the American civil rights movement and we learn, but again not at school, that Martin Luther King Jr. applied for a concealed carry permit. He (an upstanding minister, mind you) was denied.

Then as in many cases even now, especially in blue states uniquely and ironically so concerned about “fairness,” permitting was subjective (“may issue” rather than “shall issue”). The wealthy and politically connected receive their rights, but the poor, the uneducated, the undesired masses, not so much.

Up until late in his life, MLK Jr. chose to be protected by the Deacons for Defense. Though his home was also apparently a bit of an arsenal.

African Americans won their rights and protected their lives with pervasive firearms ownership. But we don’t learn about this. We don’t know about this. It has been unfortunately whitewashed from our history classes and our discourse.

Hidden, apparently, as part of an agreement (or at least an understanding) reached upon the conclusion of the civil rights movement.

Sure, the government is going to protect you now and help you and give you all of the rights you want, but you have to give up your guns. Turn them in. Create a culture of deference to the government. Be peaceable and non-threatening and harmless. And arm-less, as it were (and vote Democrat). African Americans did turn them in, physically and culturally.

That, at least, is an argument made late in Negroes and the Gun: the Black Tradition of Arms. It’s a fantastic book, teaching primarily through anecdotes of particular African American figures throughout history just how important firearms were to them. I learned so-freaking-much from this novel, and couldn’t recommend it more. If you have any interest in gun rights, civil rights, and/or African American history, it’s an absolute must-read.

Some text I highlighted on my Kindle Paperwhite when I read it in 2014:

But Southern blacks had to navigate the first generation of American arms-control laws, explicitly racist statutes starting as early as Virginia’s 1680 law, barring clubs, guns, or swords to both slaves and free blacks.

“…he who would be free, himself must strike the blow.”

In 1846, white abolitionist congressman Joshua Giddings of Ohio gave a speech on the floor of the House of Representatives, advocating distribution of arms to fugitive slaves.

Civil-rights activist James Forman would comment in the 1960s that blacks in the movement were widely armed and that there was hardly a black home in the South without its shotgun or rifle.

A letter from a teacher at a freedmen’s school in Maryland demonstrates one set of concerns. The letter contains the standard complaints about racist attacks on the school and then describes one strand of the local response. “Both the Mayor and the sheriff have warned the colored people to go armed to school, (which they do) [and] the superintendent of schools came down and brought me a revolver.”

Low black turnout resulted in a Democratic victory in the majority black Republican congressional district.

Other political violence of the Reconstruction era centered on official Negro state militias operating under radical Republican administrations.

“The Winchester rifle deserves a place of honor in every Black home.” So said Ida B. Wells.

Fortune responded with an essay titled “The Stand and Be Shot or Shoot and Stand Policy”: “We have no disposition to fan the coals of race discord,” Thomas explained, “but when colored men are assailed they have a perfect right to stand their ground. If they run away like cowards they will be regarded as inferior and worthy to be shot; but if they stand their ground manfully, and do their own a share of the shooting they will be respected and by doing so they will lessen the propensity of white roughs to incite to riot.”

He used state funds to provide guns and ammunition to people who were under threat of attack.

“Medgar was nonviolent, but he had six guns in the kitchen and living room.”

“The weapons that you have are not to kill people with — killing is wrong. Your guns are to protect your families — to stop them from being killed. Let the Klan ride, but if they try to do wrong against you, stop them. If we’re ever going to win this fight we got to have a clean record. Stay here, my friends, you are needed most here, stay and protect your homes.”

In 2008 and 2010, the NAACP filed amicus briefs to the United States Supreme Court, supporting blanket gun bans in Washington, DC, and Chicago. Losing those arguments, one of the association’s lawyers wrote in a prominent journal that recrafting the constitutional right to arms to allow targeted gun prohibition in black enclaves should be a core plank of the modern civil-rights agenda.

Wilkins viewed the failure to pursue black criminals as overt state malevolence and evidence of an attitude that “there’s one more Negro killed — the more of ’em dead, the less to bother us. Don’t spend too much money running down the killer — he may kill another.”

But it puts things in perspective to note that swimming pool accidents account for more deaths of minors than all forms of death by firearm (accident, homicide, and suicide).

The correlation of very high murder rates with low gun ownership in African American communities simply does not bear out the notion that disarming the populace as a whole will disarm and prevent murder by potential murderers.

Centers for Disease Control (CDC) estimated 1,900,000 annual episodes where someone in the home retrieved a firearm in response to a suspected illegal entry. There were roughly half a million instances where the armed householder confronted and chased off the intruder.

A study of active burglars found that one of the greatest risks faced by residential burglars is being injured or killed by occupants of a targeted dwelling. Many reported that this was their greatest fear and a far greater worry than being caught by police.48 The data bear out the instinct. Home invaders in the United States are more at risk of being shot in the act than of going to prison.49 Because burglars do not know which homes have a gun, people who do not own guns enjoy free-rider benefits because of the deterrent effect of others owning guns. In a survey of convicted felons conducted for the National Institute of Justice, 34 percent of them reported being “scared off, shot at, wounded or captured by an armed victim.” Nearly 40 percent had refrained from attempting a crime because they worried the target was armed. Fifty-six percent said that they would not attack someone they knew was armed and 74 percent agreed that “one reason burglars avoid houses where people are at home is that they fear being shot.”

In the period before Florida adopted its “shall issue” concealed-carry laws, the Orlando Police Department conducted a widely advertised program of firearms training for women. The program was started in response to reports that women in the city were buying guns at an increased rate after an uptick in sexual assaults. The program aimed to help women gun owners become safe and proficient. Over the next year, rape declined by 88 percent. Burglary fell by 25 percent. Nationally these rates were increasing and no other city with a population over 100,000 experienced similar decreases during the period.55 Rape increased by 7 percent nationally and by 5 percent elsewhere in Florida.

As you can see, Negroes and the Gun progresses more or less chronologically, spending the last portion of the book discussing modern-day gun control. It’s an invaluable source of ammunition (if you’ll pardon the expression) against the fallacies of the pro-gun-control platform. It sheds light on a little-known (if not purposefully obfuscated), critical factor in the history of African Americans: firearms.

On this Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I highly recommend you — yes, you — read Negroes and the Gun: the Black Tradition of Arms.

And I’ll wrap this up with a quote in a Huffington Post article given by Maj Toure of Black Guns Matter:

https://cdn0.thetruthaboutguns.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/huffpo-maj-toure.jpg”

#books #black history #history #american history #Guns #civil rights #constitution #supreme court #gun control #martin luther king jr.#dread scott #concealed carry #concealedcarry #everydaycarry #gun confiscation

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erricdraven · 3 years

Note

For the malec prompts, 7, t, 22 ? Feel free to change stuff if you prefer!

*so i used this to my advantage a bit so this can be read as a prequel-sequel to my previous fic the number of heartbeats between here and there. also it's a bit canon divergent because of the parameters of the request!* 7. deleted scene | t. secret relationship | 22. "i'm going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else."

To: Alexander – 1:23am

Did you still want me to come over tonight? I know it’s later than we had planned but…been thinking about you 🥰

To: Magnus – 1:26am

Sorry I was in the shower but yeah please come if you still can!

To: Alexander – 1:27am

Pretty boy.

To: Alexander – 1:27am

Handsome.

To: Alexander – 1:27am

Angel.

To: Magnus – 1:28am

…yeah?

To: Alexander – 1:28am

I always want to see you. Do you want to see me?

To: Magnus – 1:28am

Yes definitely

To Alexander – 1:29am

Then I’ll be over quicker than you can say my name

Magnus made his way around the sprawling architecture of the New York Institute, looking for the wing of living quarters. The buttresses that framed the familiar third-story window would have made fair footholds for scaling the building, but there were better methods available to him. Twisting his index and middle fingers, he summoned a dense amalgamation of magic beneath his feet that expanded upwards. Fortunately, Alec had left the window unlatched and slightly ajar, allowing Magnus to slip through and land soundlessly in a crouch.

Just as he straightened up, the bathroom door opened and damp steam from the shower billowed out. Alec emerged, naked save for a towel wrapped around his waist, but when he caught sight of Magnus, an almost smug smile pulled at his lips. “Hey,” he greeted, striding over to kiss him softly, one hand gently cradling Magnus’ cheek while the other held the towel in place at his hipbone.

“Is this for me?” Magnus teased, running the soft outer part of his forefinger along the damp skin of Alec’s bare chest. “How thoughtful.”

Alec laughed boisterously, his ears faintly pink with a warm blush. “Sorry to disappoint you but that was just a happy accident. Patrol ran late and I had to deal with— Well, that doesn’t really matter.”

Clicking his tongue in disapproval, Magnus shook his head. “How can I be disappointed with this outcome, unintentional as it may be.” He skated his palms up to Alec’s upper back and reverently drew them down across the planes of muscle until he got down to the small of his back. His fingertips dug into the soft skin above his buttocks needfully, pressing just hard enough that his blunt nails would leave behind little crescents if one were to look hard enough. “I still come out victorious in this scenario, I think.”

>> READ ON AO3

The way that Alec smiled at him, tired and weary but endlessly soft, made Magnus feel like his heart were being squeezed just this side of painful. It was the most vulnerable he had ever seen him, and it was simply theirs to share.

“Hey, Magnus… Why did you agree to this, us, like this?” Alec gestured vaguely. His eyebrows drew tightly together in consternation, and Magnus fought the urge to kiss the skin between into relaxing. “Why are you willing to hide with me?”

It had been a few weeks since their conversation about an arranged marriage for the sake of preserving the Lightwood legacy and foothold in the New York Institute. Maybe it was some kind of desperation that had driven Magnus to be so cavalier about his willingness to accept the “don’t ask, don’t tell” mentality of shadowhunters. The thought of losing the first spark of hope in love that he had had in over a century was excruciating, and concealing it so meticulously was a high price, but he was paying it. In a way, though, keeping this fragile thing between them a secret, left to grow in discretion, felt a little like a relief. Whatever it may be with time, it was theirs alone.

At the silence, Alec licked his lips nervously and started to say something.

Instead, Magnus held up a finger to his mouth to quiet him anticipatorily. Through a roguish grin, he said, “I’m going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else. I want to give that question the answer it deserves, but that’s a tremendous ask when you’re up against me like this.”

Alec rolled his eyes as if it were nothing more than a line, but there was something in his eyes that betrayed his self-satisfaction. And that was exactly what Magnus had intended. “All right, well then, look away.”

Magnus turned his back with exaggerated movements and crossed his arms over his chest with a smile. It was nice to have someone to be this way with again; it felt like liberation to have someone with whom he was free to be himself without the burden of titles and expectations. He was exposed when he stripped away the personas and facades that were like secondary skins. They were facets of himself that people expected him to have, but Alec never seemed to want him to be anything but Magnus. Not Magnus Bane, not High Warlock Bane, not Prince Regent of Edom.

“Are you decent?” Magnus teased after the sounds of fabric on skin had subsided.

In response, Alec came up behind him and leaned in just enough that his chest brushed Magnus’ back. “All done.”

Magnus shifted his weight to lean back into Alec lightly and reached back to thread his fingers into Alec’s still-damp hair. Softly scratching his nails through the soft strands made Alec hum contentedly. “We should sit so we can discuss your question.”

“Can we lay down?”

“Of course.”

They climbed on the bed over the sheets and comforter, and Alec immediately rolled over so Magnus could curl up behind him. He even lifted his arm away from his chest so Magnus could slide an arm over his hip bone and anchor his hand on his abdomen. This was something they had done once before—bearing their heart to anyone was hard for both of them, but this way made it a little easier.

Magnus took a slow breath, gathering his thoughts appropriately. “You’re a possibility, Alexander. A beautiful, liberating possibility that I’ve never had the fortune to come across in all my life.”

Ever melancholy, Alec replied, “How can you feel that way when I’m basically shoving you back in the closet with me, and asking you to sneak around and be ashamed of something that should be so simple. It makes me feel like a child to ask you to…stoop this low.”

“It was my choice, Alec. I chose to put myself in the position I’m in. And for the record,” Magnus added, pressing his lips to the back of Alec’s ear, “I’m glad that I did.”

Alec pressed back perceptibly closer to him, ducking his head to press into the crook of Magnus’ neck in a self-soothing gesture. “You’re not just saying that so that I feel less guilty, right? Because it doesn’t work if you don’t mean it.”

Many times throughout Magnus’ life he had been in the position of feeling at the disadvantage with the people he loved. He worried himself sick over whether he was being too clingy, too transparent, too vulnerable, and then he overcorrected and worried about being too aloof, too distant, and too unavailable. The cyclical questioning and self-doubt had ruined a lot of encounters before they even had the chance to become something concrete. Even now, there was a seed of doubt about what he was doing with Alec—maybe he was giving him too much credit, and maybe putting his own heart on the line was naïve.

“I don’t have the luxury of knowing what will come of this, Alexander,” he said carefully, “but I am certain that never giving it the chance would be something I would always regret. Will I always be content to be the soul of discretion in regards to you and what we may feel? Likely not. But you didn’t ask me for forever, and I’m not asking you either. I think both of us just needed the chance to be worth the risk of seeing it through to whatever end it might reach.”

Warm calloused fingers made their way down Magnus’ arm to lace between his own and squeeze gently. “I can live with that.”

Magnus chuckled and pressed a kiss to Alec’s hair. “I hope you can do more than that.”

“Mmm.” Alec yawned and rolled slightly, taking Magnus with him. “For now, though, I’m just going to sleep with it.”

“‘It’ being me?”

“By the angel,” Alec groaned, exasperated yet fighting a smile. “You talk too much sometimes.” Before Magnus could reply, he had captured his lips in a languorous kiss. Each one they shared felt like a discovery that Alec relished, unrehearsed and uncertain but wholehearted in the best way. The anticipation and enthusiasm of each new moment they shared was somehow so much better than any shared with Magnus’ most experienced ex-lovers.

Magnus pulled away just enough that their lips parted but their noses still touched. “I thought you wanted to sleep.”

“This is even better than my white noise machine. Having you here is…peaceful.”

“Aren’t you a romantic,” Magnus said dryly. But when Alec pulled him close again, he was helpless to resist.

>> PROMPT LIST

#malec #malec fic #sharona1x2 #cuubism #thatnerdemryn #shfanficnexus #sugarandspace #bytheangell #ask #anon #mywriting #shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #otp: we always seem to find our way back to each other

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