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slothgiirl · 3 years

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the medic (keith x reader)

17k. something weird’s going on with keith, like alien weird. as the team medic, you’re concerned.

“So he is avoiding me,” you muse aloud, grabbing one of the pink alien food biscuits that were Hank’s latest experiment. Though it had been hours since Voltron had taken out the Galra Empire’s presence on this Balmera, you’d only just seen the last of your patients. Altean medical equipment did wonders.

After a battle, you were hardly surprised to find Hank in the kitchen, grounding himself as he cooked. You were surprised to run into Keith.

“Yeah,” Hank nods, “Probably trying to avoid another dental exam.”

You flush bright red, “His teeth fell out! Sorry for being concerned.” Between you and Lance, you’d managed to get a look at Keith. A fist fight with some alien species that was cooperating with the Galra had not gone Keith’s way, knocking out two of his teeth.

Shiro, predictably, had waved it off and accepted Keith’s insane explanation that his teeth would grow back on their own without question: given his hand waving of the red paladin’s eyes glowing slightly in the dark, more than any human’s should (human eyes didn’t glow at all!). Hindsight was twenty twenty.

The yellow paladin shrugs as he mixes orange noodle-esque things in a bowl.

Team Voltron was full of strong personalities. Add in Lotor and his friends dropping in, there was always something going on.

Hank just wanted to unwind from spending the past few hours destroying heavy duty mining equipment without hurting the planet. “So how are the biscuits?”

You chew on one, still bothered by Keith. Maybe Hank was right and he was trying to hide something from your keen gaze. You hoped not. Knowing the red paladin, and after two years in space, you certainly did, he’d rather suffer in silence until there was no other option than get medical attention. Back on earth with needles and scalpels, you understood, but in the Castle of Lions…

“Kind of like a rice cracker,” you tell Hank helpfully. “In a good got snacks at H-Mart way, not the sad quaker oats rice snacks.”

“Oh H-Mart,” Hunk smiles, “they don’t have those in space. They do have salt though. Found that at the last market we went to.”

“As long as alien food doesn’t poison us,” you comment. It was lucky that hadn’t happened. It was alien food. But not one negative reaction which either made humans some of the most hardy species or you were just lucky.

“Yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I’ve gotten pretty good at recognizing what’s edible and not. I know Pidge said there’s some books, but my Altean is pretty bad.”

“Languages are hard.”

“Wish there was a space version of google translate.”

“Hunk-”

“Yeah.”

“That’s genius!” You look at the yellow paladin, wondering how a universe with speech translators never thought to do the same for written language.

“I know,” Hunk smiles while popping another tray into the oven.

—————

Lance finishes painting your toenails. It was a rare day when there were no space battles or rebel meetings. “Pidge,” the blue paladin whines, “let me paint your-”

“Don’t even think about it!”

“It’s supposed to be team bonding night,” Lance counters.

“Lance,” Allaura frowns from where she’s sitting with Shiro, “the castle’s night cycle has not started.”

“Well we can change it,” he counters, “there’s no up or down in space. OR day or night.”

“You can paint my nails,” Hunk offers. “Won’t last long though between the cooking and the vents I’ve been cleaning. This is a 10,000 year old castle. No offence,” he glances at Allura.

“No offence at all. The battles have taken their toll and I’m sure Coran appreciates the help. He is only one man.” She lets out a sigh. The only other remaining Altean was a bittersweet subject for her.

Hunk kicks off his shoes. “My pleasure. Literally. This Castle is so cool. The artificial gravity alone!”

You watch the paint dry on your toes. Only your big toes had actual drawings on them, strange alien creatures you’d all encountered over your time in space. The others were clear with green and blue swirls. “You’re a good artist Lance.”

The blue paladin winks, “I’m a regular old Michaelangelo.”

You laugh, “of course you are.”

“And I’m not just good with a brush,” he wiggles his eyebrows, more boyish flirting than anything serious.

You roll your eyes.

Pidge throws a cushion at Lance. “Oh please like you’ve got past the first date!”

“I have! Vivian Tran from Calculus.”

“Can you focus on my nails,” Hunk asks, but Lance is busy waving the thin brush in hand as he argues with Pidge.

“And Atticus from Cantonese.”

“Didn’t you drop that class,” Hank asks.

“Well, the hindi teacher was way nicer and didn’t hate me. I was good at drawing the characters though.”

“Can you speak hindi,” you ask, having taken French for your language fulfillment.

“Eh-” Lance shrugs.

“Can you flirt in Hindi is the real question,” you ask with a grin.

“He can’t even flirt in English,” Pidge points out scathingly.

“Hey!”

“My nails Lance,” Hunk grumbles.

“Right. Right,” Lance focuses back on his task, going with a yellow that matches Shay. “What language did you take Shiro?”

“English.”

“How many dialects does Earth have,” Allura asks.

“A lot,” Shiro tells the alien princess. “The Garrison pushes being multilingual in its program. Most cadets were already bilingual to start with, generally covering major languages.”

“Ah.”

“Got bored of the training room,” Pidge asks Keith as he walks in, flopping down on an empty sofa.

“It timed out.”

“Sure,” Lance immediately starts, a dog with a bone, “not like you couldn’t beat it or anything.”

“You can’t even get past level 9!” Keith growls back, sitting up with a jolt, skin still slick from sweat and his cheeks were flushed with exertion.

Lance gets up, puffing out his chest. Oh boy, here they go again. The rivalry thing they had going on got old fast to everyone around them. While it did push them to be better paladins, it was annoying to hear. “Oh like you’re any better.”

Hunk takes the brush from Lance, finishing off his last toe on his own.

“I am,” Keith bites back, a growl still audible from his chest.

“Only because you cheat!”

“It’s not cheating!”

“How is it not-” Lance stops, furrows his brow, then grins. “You got a little something there.” And like a thirteen year old, Lance points and laughs.

Keith frowns, his hand coming up to his cheek.

Sure enough, Lance was right. Keith had a couple of angry red blemishes on his cheek.

“You have adult acne,” Lance giggles, immature as ever. He was always able to find an angle to everything. It was what made him such an excellent strategist.

“It’s not adult acne!” Keith scowls, scratching at the blemishes.

“Its been three years,” Lance retorts smugly.

You frown. “No. It’s been like two.” You look over at Pidge to confirm, “Right?” You were like ninety percent sure you were twenty.

“Two and a half,” Pidge answers.

“Ha! You’re twenty! Adult-”

“I don’t have adult acne!”

They’d fought over more meaningless things before.

If it was two and a half years, maybe you were twenty one? You frown. How old would you be before you ever saw your family again?

Stashing that depressing thought away, you focus on Keith and the red marks on his cheek like a line coming down to his jaw. “It could be a rash,” you utter thoughtfully. Pidge and you had already encountered a very itchy plant before. “Or space ringworm-ring line?”

For the first time in days, Keith looks at you, meeting your gaze. “It’s not a rash!”

You lift your hands up, “okay. Okay. Geez.” When it came to Keith, you didn’t push too hard. He was too stubborn for it to work.

Lance, however, “hey, it’s okay Keith-buddy, just use toothpaste.”

“Toothpaste makes it worse,” Hunk counters. “Not great for your skin either.”

“It always worked for me,” Lance counters. “Or a clay skin mask.”

“Clay? You mean that green mud,” Keith clarifies.

“It’s clay!”

“Clay would work,” you agree with Lance. “Hey it could be like a spa day!”

“I could go for a spa,” Hunk nods.

Pidge shakes her head, “right. I’m going to try and see if I can get a signal back home.”

Shiro looks over at you, “do you really think it could be something serious?”

You shrug. “No clue.”

Keith huffs, “Just drop it,” he states dramatically, headed for the door. He was over being the center of attention.

“So face masks?”

You nod, “want to try it Allura?”

“I would love to try the clay mask,�� she smiles brightly.

——————

Te-Osh’s rebels had sent for Voltron, less fighting than rebuilding.

While you were no paladin, you had spent the majority of the day helping Allura take stock and synthesizing medicine, everything from serums to numbing gels. Just your luck the machine had overheated and given out on the last batch. It was a pretty large machine.

You stick your head inside, waving off the smoke. With your nails, you pry open the hutch and take stock. You were no Pidge or Hunk, still unsure how the thing even worked, but it was clear it needed a new regulator and starter. “Plenty of those lying around,” you utter, scrunching your face at the awful burnt hair smell. Your finger finds the ventilator button on your wrist controls, and there-the smell gets sucked out of the room.

“Is this a bad time,” Keith asks behind you.

Startled, you bang your head on the mental. “Keith,” flushing hotly when you look back and realize you were ass up in front of him.

He doesn’t even notice, grimacing, hand rubbing his nose bridge.

“What’s wrong?” You hurry to wash your hands.

Keith sits down at one of the medbay tables. “My skull feels like it’s being cracked open,” he explains flatly.

You look him over closely, standing right in front of him. “Where exactly,” you ask, frowning when you notice the blemishes had grown to a full blown rash, hot angry skin peeling and cracking like twin marks down his cheeks. You should have pressed. What if it was a parasite? Keith was half galra.

It was easily forgotten given how human he looked. Sure, the signs were there: his unhuman night vision, more strength than he should have, good ears and nose, nails that had torn through metal, but it all faded into the background.

“Does it itch,” you ask, raising your hand, fingertips hovering over the marks on his cheeks.

“Yes,” Keith nods, averting his eyes from your gaze, “mostly it’s hot. And my sinuses…all the way down to my neck. Hurt.”

“Hm,” you turn, reaching for the medical scanner. There was no way you could ever go back to being a medical officer at the galaxy garrison. Earth’s technology was ancient in comparison. “Hold still.”

“Alright,” he says seriously. Keith holds his breath.

You look up at him, in his violet eyes, and smile before laughing. “Keith!”

“You said to hold still,” he points out sincerely, before the corners of his lips turn up. Keith was an expressive guy, his smile lit up his entire being, a lightness in his eyes that made you smile wider.

“Let’s try this again,” you giggle, clicking the scanner and aiming right at his rash first. “Pew.”

He rolls his eyes, snorting. “You too?”

“Mine’s the only right one,” you wink, then look over the reading.

“Not even close.” He scratches at his cheek listlessly.

Whatever reason he had for avoiding you had worked itself out. You’d missed his company.

“Oh yeah,” you challenge, “then what’s the sound?” The readings came up clear. Keith was in perfect health. So not a parasite…space allergies? Those wouldn’t come up on the scanner.

“What is it,” Keith asks, noticing your pensive expression.

“How’s your sense of smell? Stuffy nose?”

He looks up, then takes a deep breath, “now that you mention it…I can’t smell your soap anymore.”

“What?” This was news to you. “You can smell my soap?”

“And whatever planet we’ve been on,” Keith fidgets, blushing as he ducks his head, bangs falling over his eyes, “the soil. It’s all different. But I can’t right now.”

That was worrying. But if the scanner said nothing was wrong…you had to wait and see. It might clear up on its own. You’d give it a day or two.

“Nothing came up on the scanner,” you tell him, “so it should go away on its own. It might just be allergic to something out here.”

He nods, accepting your diagnosis.

“Let me get the medicine.”

“Mhm.”

You pass him a tube of gel and add that to the list of medication you need to synthesize once you fix the machine. Then grab a weekly supply of pain tabs. “Here.”

Keith pops one in immediately.

“Let me know if it doesn’t clear up in two days,” you tell him.

“Worried?”

“Eh, I can always set Lance on you again,” you snort. Shiro was a pushover when it came to Keith. He was no help.

Keith laughs, looking a little more himself. “I could take him.”

“You could,” you agree, “but don’t tell him I said that.”

He tilts his head, smiling. “Coming? Shay got food for us.”

“I’ve got to fix this machine first.”

“Need help?”

“Might ask Hunk or Coran,” you admit.

“I could-”

“No,” you cut him off, placing your hand on his shoulder, “go eat and rest. That’s an order.”

Keith leans into you. “Are you going to write me a doctor’s note too,” he asks, his delivery always so earnest you had to do a double take to figure out if he was joking or not.

“If I have too,” you stick your nose in the air. “I’ll even send one to Zarkon.”

Keith laughs easily. “Why didn’t Lotor think of that.”

You snort. “I’m going to check your lymph nodes,” you tell him, taking a step towards him again. “That okay?”

Keith tilts his head back, “Go for it.”

“Wow,” you chuckle, “who are you and what did you do with Keith Kogane.” You brush his hair out of his face.

“What?”

“Remember when you broke your arm,” you point out, gently pressing your fingers over the side of his throat, feeling the swelled bean shaped lymph nodes under his ears, behind his jaw. “And said nothing for like a week?” It had been your first year at the Galaxy Garrison.

“It was only a sprain,” Keith grumbles.

“Still!” You laugh, “I’m glad you asked for help.” Because this was still Keith and you didn’t want him to think you were laughing at him.

“Mm,” he closes his eyes as you trail your fingers lower, making sure it wasn’t too bad.

The fact they were inflamed at all worried you. You had no clue what was the space equivalent of antihistamines.

Keith’s breath tickles your shoulder, deepening and evening out like he’d finally relaxed. That was most of your patients once you gave them answers and they knew they’d be getting care and treatment. You liked helping people.

You pull your fingers back, ever the consummate professional. It was like the ghost of your garrison advisor was hovering over your shoulder. “They’re not too swollen if you can still eat. Can you still chew?”

“Hm?”

Keith opens his eyes. His expression is glazed and feverish.

“Keith,” you utter, worried.

“Yeah?” His gaze is heavy as it meets yours.

Your skin warms up because he wouldn’t stop looking at you like that.

“Any jaw pain,” you ask, focusing on the task at hand. You bring your hand up to his forehead. He was warm.

Keith leans into your touch, “no.”

“Good.” You bite your lip. Could it be some weird galra thing? Wouldn’t it have come up? You feel your own forehead. He was for sure warmer.

You were going to have to corner Coran about it.

Keith lets his eyes fall shut again and honest to god purrs, leaning into you.

Add cornering Lotor to your list.

You don’t pull away, figuring it was harmless. Lance, Hunk, and Allura were more prone to random hugs. You were more than happy to indulge Keith as well. He already wasn’t feeling well.

You wrap your arms around the red paladin’s shoulders, hugging him, “I’m looking forward to a break from Coran’s post mission food goo once I get done with the machine.”

“Mm.”

He was completely out of it.

His breath tickles your cheek.

“Though I’m not sure there’ll be any left if I don’t go there? Maybe I should grab a plate and then come back here,” you ramble. Keith had never sought you out for comfort. It was touching that he trusted you now. You’d been friends with the others before, with Keith and Shiro and the Alteans, you had skipped right over friendship and gone right to family.

“Oh.”

You look behind you.

Te-Osh takes a step back, “forgive my intrusion. I was unaware-”

Keith snaps out of whatever was going on with him. Bolting off the exam table. “It’s fine. We’re done here.” He hunches his shoulders and beelines for the door.

You frown, still processing.

“I can come back,” Te-Osh tells you, glancing between you and the door Keith had just escaped through.

You shrug. “No. I’ve got time. What do you need?”

“If you’re sure?”

Nodding, you smile, “yeah, what can I help you with?”

———————

“Here is where we will focus the blunt of the attack on. Keith, Lance, engage the fighters. Hunk,” Shiro explains, “you’ll be with me taking out the communications towers. We want to keep the damage to the minimum. The resistance leaders want the factory intact. Pidge-”

Pidge waves the Black Paladin off, “I’ve got the code written.”

“It really does come in handy,” Lance observes, “all those vents are Pidge size.”

The green paladin grumbles, “easy for you to say when you’re not the one crawling around in there. It’s not your knees getting banging up.”

“Well the galra are all like nine feet tall,” Hunk points out, “the vents probably aren’t that small from their perspective.”

Lance unsubtly glances over at Keith.

His rash had cleared up, but not before spreading. In its place were two purple slash marks running from his cheek to jaw, galra markings. No one had pressed…yet.

You were just glad it wasn’t some weird space parasite.

Her brother ruffles her hair, “Pidge sized! A micro pidge,” Matt jokes to himself.

She smacks his hand away, “five feet is a perfectly reasonable size.’

“She could still have a growth spurt,” you add, though it was highly unlikely.

“No,” Matt’s eyes go comically wide as he hugs his sister, “not my hobbit,” relishing in her embarrassment.

“Matt!”

“In summation,” Allura calls you all back to attention, “the paladins will take out Galra forces and Pidge will open the weapons factory up to Vexuin rebels to take over. I will be manning the Castle to ensure no fighters target the work camps and coordinating communications with the rebels.” She turns to look at you, “Matt and you will take down the sentries, freeing the people from the work camps.”

“No!”

Everyone looks over at Keith. The horror on his face is easy to read.

What had brought this on?

Shiro clears his throat.

Keith ducks his head, letting his bangs obscure his features.

“Why not,” Pidge asks grumpily, time was running out. You were all just ironing out the details, “your plans suck.”

“Pidge,” Shiro chastises.

The green paladin was right.

Keith fought the same way you played video games, caring about nothing but reducing the enemies stats to zero. He’d gotten great at teamwork, but he was hardly a strategist.

“Keith,” Allura asks, “do you have any legitimate reasons why Matt should go on his own?” And when she phrased it like that…

The red paladin crosses his arms over his shoulders.

Pidge taps her foot on the floor.

“Okay then,” Shiro takes over, “let’s get to our lions.”

“Coms. Come in earthlings!,” Coran chimes in over the system, “remember this planet’s atmosphere is toxic to breath, too much sulfur in the air, not to mention the heat will give you all a taste of the slipperies. And worse! So keep those space suits on Vol-”

“-Tron,” Lance grins back, having taken a liking to having a kooky space alien uncle.

You lock your helmet in place as Matt pilots the pod towards the work camps. They were just as grim as the first time you’d seen them. It was the same all over in many of the Empire’s work planets. They were at the bottom of the totem pole. There were some planets where the native species and Galra coexisted more or less peacefully, this was not one of them.

“So what’s up with Keith,” Matt asks you.

You shrug. “No clue. I keep waiting for Lotor or one of the Blades to drop in so I can corner them but he’s a picture of perfect health so I’m not worried.”

“But the,” he takes a hand off the wheel, motioning to his face.

You frown, arching a brow. You’d never looked at Allura quite the same after the way she had treated Keith upon learning about his heritage. It’s not like he’d been a completely different person, she’d known him for over a year.

Matt might be Pidge’s brother, but you weren’t about to let anyone get away with giving someone you loved shit. Especially not Keith who would just silently take it.

It made your chest ache, thinking about how sweet he looked when he smiled. He didn’t deserve any of it.

“What about it?” You stare back at him cooly.

Matt focuses back on landing the pod just beyond the sentires line of sight. “Nothing. Pidge figured it was nothing, didn’t even seem curious. I figured you might know, you two are pretty close.” He glances over at you meaningfully.

“We’ve known eachother since the garrison,” though you hadn’t really been friends. Keith had been kind of a loner. You’d tried to include him, having shared a couple classes with him here and there, but he’d never taken you up on any offer.

“Right.” He doesn’t sound all that convinced. “Glad to hear it’s all good. I caught the sneazles while in the work camp,” Matt makes a face.

You laugh.

“It was horrible! But also like an episode of spongebob somehow?”

“Space is weird.” You had way bigger problems and had seen stranger things by now. For fucks sake, you were saving dragon looking aliens from the Galra right now. This planet was like a silent hill game!

Thick fog obscured the rocky landscape. Even from within your suit you could smell the stench of rotten eggs. Yet this was home to the Vexuin.

Shiro gives the signal.

You take the safety off the taser gun Pidge had built for you. Anything pilfered off the Galra was too large for your small stature, just a hair shorter than Keith. The gun packed a punch, with enough voltage to take out the robots.

Matt and you get to work.

“Almost got it,” Matt mutters as you take aim and shoot.

Stupid damn biolocks.

“Hurry the fuck up,” you tell him, dodging a shot from another sentry before frying it with your own weapon. One shot, one sentry. You needed to take them down before they got close. The robots were durable and strong. You knew better than to think you could go hand to hand with one, you were a medic not a fighter.

“I am, I am,” Matt insists. “Ah there,” he grabs a taser flash bomb out of his pocket and tosses inside the sentry outpost.

You shoot again, trying to keep your hands steady. It was easy when it was just programmed machines. Nothing to feel bad about.

Matt and you rush inside, stepping over more fried sentries. You take position at the entrance, gunning down anything that makes its way towards the two of you.

“You in,” you ask him.

“Patience my young apprentice,” Matt says, laughing at his own joke, “it’ll take a moment for my worm to work its way through the software and give me complete control.”

The ground shakes as the main part of the battle takes place outside, at a monsterous factory that’s gray, chimney shooting out smoke. You can only see hints of lions shooting and Galra fighter ships lighting up the sky.

The sulfuric fog coats everything.

You taste rotten eggs on your breath.

Inside your suit, sweat runs down your back.

“Okay,” Matt chimes into the coms, “I’ve hacked the camps. Ready to open the gates.”

The rolling low grutal voices of the Vexuin rebel leaders fill your coms, “Good.”

“Go ahead Matt,” Allura gives the order, “Voltron?”

Pidge answers, “dropping in, should override their” static, “ticks.” Then an explosion reverberates in your ear where the communications device is.

“Pidge,” Keith yells out.

“Keith cover Lance,” Shiro grunts out, blasts audible from here. “Pidge?”

Nothing.

Matt’s face goes ghostly white.

“Pidge, come in Pidge?” Allura asks. “Paladins? Are you able to reach Pidge?”

“Negative,” Shiro replies, “Hunk, take the main gate! Time to land.”

“On it.”

“Guys,” Lance yells, “the shield’s down. Pidge hacked them.”

“Keith,” Shiro yells, “wait!”

“Fine.”

You decide to hope for the best. There was nothing you could do for any of the paladins all the way from here. “Turn it off,” you tell Matt.

He steals himself. “Right.”

The lights of the compound go out. Sentries power down where they stand, puppets with their strings cut. Locks disengage, and for the first time in decades, the Vexuin are free to leave the barracks free from Galra supervision.

You and Matt go out to meet them.

“I could get used to this,” Pidge calls out as everyone meets on the planet’s surface. Rebels come in from the forest slowly, making sure this is for real, before sniffing the air and calling out to their loved ones lingering around the liberated camp complex. Their vision worked in the infrared, all the better to see on this planet. You’d need at least three showers to get the smell out of your hair.

Keith carries Pidge, careful not to jolt the youngest member of Voltron. She holds a leg stiffly, a sprain or fracture.

Matt rushes to his sister, “Katie!”

She waves him off, “I’m fine.” Then snaps her fingers, “Down.”

There’s a small smile on Keith’s mouth as he places her down on the ground gently.

Lance comes up behind Keith, ruffling his hair, and being every bit himself as he comments with a smirk, “good boy.”

The shorter paladin smacks Lance’s hand away, but it’s too late, Lance is already smothering Keith in a hug that turns into a competition, like always with those two. Keith shoves at Lance’s face while Lance tightens his grip on Keith.

Shiro clears his throat, “paladins.”

“A dobesh in the pod,” you ask Pidge as Matt gets his turn to fuss over her.

“Yeah. Landed right as an explosion went off,” Pidge frowns. “Not my best moment, but my program still did it’s job and,” she pats her bayard, “I took them out.”

“Can’t be that bad if you can stand,” you agree. Nothing serious but you’d be keeping an eye on her all the same. The faster she got into the pod and took weight off her injury the better. You didn’t want to exacerbate the sprain.

“The jet pack helped,” Pidge points out.

“Lucky you,” you grin.

Shiro and Allura are consummate professionals as they go over the last of the logistics with the Vexuin, “It would be wise to stay until your people have situated themselves in case the Galra Empire retaliates,” Allura states, ending her sentiment in a question, “but it is ultimately up to you.”

The Vexuin chatter among themselves for a moment before one speaks up, “we would not turn down Voltron’s help. A few quintants should be enough time.”

“Then we will make ourselves of service to you,” Shiro nods. “Please, let us know anything we can help with.”

A red scaled one smiles, showing off her many sharp and jagged teeth, “our people long to see the camp destroyed.”

Hunk offers, “I could help rig a controlled explosion.”

“Very good.”

“The system inside the weapons factory is down,” Pidge tells them, “but I can reprogram it to keep the Galra out so that you can decide what to do with the place.”

“Oh no you don’t,” you cut in, “Matt can take care of that. You’re going in a pod first.”

“Pod person,” Matt mutters under his breath with a snort.

“Then let us get to work,” Allura dismisses everyone.

Pidge tries to take a step, and almost falls over.

You grab her.

Her face goes crimson from the pain.

The adrenalin must have been keeping the bulk of the pain away.

Keith picks her up.

It’s not until you’ve loaded Pidge in for three vargas that you pull off your helmet, savoring the crisp clean air of the Castleship.

“I can still smell the sulfur,” you comment, wrinkling your nose.

Keith shakes his hair out.

You look at him thoughtfully, “must be worse for you though.”

“Why,” he asks, genuinely puzzled.

“Because your nose,” you point out, then frown, “your sinuses did clear up yeah?” He never said anything about it so you figured they had and he could smell fine again, but you weren’t sure.

“Oh. Yeah. They did.”

You smile fondly, “very convincing Keith,” you tell him, reaching out to him. He lets you run your fingers right under his ears, behind his jaw. Everything was in order.

A knot of anxiety dissolves in your chest.

“Well,” he asks, “satisfied?”

“Mhm.” You look at the purple markings on his skin.

Keith’s breath hitches. His gaze is trained on you, watching carefully.

“So if not rotten eggs,” you ask, slowly bringing your fingertips over the marks on the sides of his face, giving him every opportunity to pull away, “what do you smell?” You couldn’t help it. It was that scientific curiosity. Everyone at the garrison had ended up there because they were nerdy in some way: devoting themselves to some STEM field while other kids were watching cartoons. You’d had a stutter as a kid, self conscious about it too, so instead of trying to make friends you read your textbooks under your desk, racing ahead.

Keith’s eyes meet yours. There’s a level of vulnerability in his gaze that worms its way into your chest and all of a sudden you’re incredibly aware of how close you two are, the lack of space between your bodies, your fingers caressing his skin.

You look away, focusing on the marks. They were purple, which was obvious. His skin itself had grown purple, perfectly delineated.

“Like wet soil,” Keith explains finally, “when they just added fertilizer.” You wince, remembering the smell of the horticulture center wafting through the garrison’s campus during the spring. “And garlic.”

“I like garlic. I’d kill for some,” you tell him, sounding very much like Hank. You hadn’t expected to be homesick for food. “Best food they served at the cafeteria.”

“That’s not saying much,” Keith mutters, amused.

You chuckle, pulling your hands away from his face.

He leans forward, asking for physical comfort in a very Keith way: unsubtle and wordlessly, putting the onus on you to get the hint.

Pidge must have freaked him out more than he was willing to discuss.

You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging Keith. “Pidge’ll be fine.” Sure, she was younger and short, but she was more than capable of handling herself. “I’m more concerned about how she left the other guys,” you comment lightly resting your chin on Keith’s shoulder.

His shoulders shake as he laughs easily. “They asked to surrender to her personally.”

“That’s Pidge all right.” You glance over at the pod. She’d be back on her feet in no time.

Keith’s breath against your skin feels nice. Your heart flutters in your chest and you find yourself blushing and pulling away, thoughts racing as you realize just how much you liked this boy. You pull away, unsure what to do and suddenly finding it too awkward to be around him at all.

The start of a whine escapes his throat before he smothers it, looking away, as he lets his bangs fall over his eyes, effectively hiding his easy to read features.

“Let’s go help the others,” you say, fumbling to grab a med kit and click your helmet back in place, your face too warm and it must be obvious. You didn’t want to make things weird. You didn’t. But-

“I’m going to stay here until Pidge wakes up,” Keith tells you.

“Oh. Okay.” You nod. “That’s a great idea. It’s always confusing as hell to get out of the pods.” It was akin to waking up from a midday nap: completely confused and exhausted instead of rested.

Your skills would be more useful with the Vexuim than fussing over Pidge at the moment. And having something to do would keep your mind off Keith.

—————

“You know,” Lance comments, sliding up to you as you watch Lotor strut away from you after another failed attempt to talk to him. “If we bottled up whatever galra repellant you have going on, we could defeat Zarkon with perfume.”

You look over at Lance, trying to suppress a smile. “What would you call it?”

“Starlight.”

“That’s-that’s actually pretty great,” you tell Lance.

“I know,” he grins. Then the latino boy sobers up, “trying to find out what’s going on with mullet?”

You nod. “I even tried to corner Acxa,” you admit. For an eight foot tall purple alien, boy could she make herself scarce.

Lance’s eyes widened in delight, “like could and should peg me Acxa?”

You groan. “Lance, sometimes it’s okay to keep things to yourself.”

“I’m just saying,” he laughs, “the ship’s not that big…”

“It’s designed for six thousand people.” You’d learned that fun tidbit while practicing your Altean with Pidge.

“Like for real!”

“Yeah.”

“Ay dios mio,” Lance utters, “you’re screwed.”

You finally hit the motherlode.

Lotor and his generals are in a stately room that reminds you of the socratic lecture halls at the garrison, sofa arranged in a half circle, with Shiro and Allura. The former Prince had shown up for a reason beyond making a nuisance of himself. Allura looks at her wits end with him, as he smiles like a douche, her eye twitching.

She invites you in without hesitation, “take a seat next to me,” and effectively uses you as a human shield against Lotor.

Literally since you and Shiro were the only humans here.

“Everything has been thoroughly discussed,” Lotor comments dryly, snubbing you once more. Normally, you wouldn’t have cared but you were trying to get information out of the man. “Unless either of you have further questions?”

Shiro hums, rubbing his chin, “I know saddling you with a rebel ship or two will slow you down but I don’t see another way around it. A display of size on their part will go a long way to show it is an alliance and not the Galra Empire hy another name.”

Allura nods, a small smile on her lips as she looks over at Shiro, “The black paladin is right. It will be a steep hill to climb to show that you are not the Galra Empire. Their fears would be alleviated with the presence of the rebel alliance.”

Zethrid sucks in a sharp breath, “So that’s it then. We will always be scorned and merely tolerated.”

“Time,” Shiro sighs with a look of gentle understanding at the muscular woman, “they need time. You can’t erase 10,000 years of history. It is hard to extend trust after being imprisoned and enslaved.”

“The alliance has started coordinating with you and the Blade directly have they not,” Allura asks stiltedly. It was by the necessity of time that they had stopped going through Voltron first. Lotor might be too smug for his own good, but his team was effective at sabotaging warships and infiltrating Galra ranks to liberate prisons and cities, enough to turn the tide for the rebels.

Her feelings towards Lotor and the Blade were still tinged with suspicion, her treatment of them lukewarm at best.

Still, Lotor brushed it off and continued to help. “Well then, Princess, Shiro, we have a long journey ahead of us.”

Shiro nods.

They shake hands.

You stand up, ready to corner Lotor.

“But first a word Shiro, it is a private matter.”

“Yeah, sure,” Shiro leads Lotor away.

Your eye twitches.

That snake!

Zethrid and Narti walk purposefully away as Allura pushes in her chair, ignoring the last two of Lotor’s team. “Princess,” Acxa, tries. “Until next time.” She nods at you, “stay safe.”

Allura gives the woman a strained smile, hooking her arm with yours. Human shield.

“You too,” you tell her. She doesn’t wait, already halfway out the door. You sigh.

Ezor giggles, by far the friendliest and easiest to get along with of Lotor’s team. “Stashing food and water will cut down the embarrassment by half.”

“What?”

“Oh,” she shrugs, “I guess Lotor was right. Darn it! Now I owe him one hundred GAC.”

“Wait-”

But she scurries off.

“Ugh,” you kick the wall, tired of everyone being weird. The usual frustration with being caught up in a space war was just the salt on the wound.

Your toe throbs, “fuck,” you hiss.

“They are rather tiring to deal with,” Allura agrees, reading the situation wrong, “but it hardly calls for assaulting the Castle.”

“Sorry,” you flush red with embarrassment. “I just had a question for Lotor and he seems intent on never being in the same room as me.”

“Ah-,” Allura smiles easily, “Lance did mention that you were in possession of a Galra repellent.” The twinkle in her eyes lets you know she was in on the joke.

“Come, let us work our frustrations out with some introspection.” Which was just Altean for weird breathing exercises that supposedly helped you do alchemy. She had managed to rope you into practicing with her before.

“Anything to spare the wall,” you joke.

——————

You walk back from the library. It was a cozy room, especially when you dimmed the lights. The Castle was always so bright, designed with the Alteans sight needs in mind.

Sometimes you just needed some time away from everyone. You loved them, but spending years with the same people while floating through space…you had no clue how Shiro had managed it.

Getting a walk around the ship was also nice. It was easy to forget how big the Castle was when you mainly stayed on the same three floors. Just a couple months ago Coran had rediscovered the greenhouse. The plants were a little piece of Altea, and had quickly become one of Allura’s favorite spots.

The windows were wide portholes. It unnerved you still, looking out and not recognizing any star, any constellations.

A lump of homesickness lodges itself in your throat. It had been over two years, your siblings would have grown so much in that time. You certainly had. The last vestiges of childhood had gone from your face.

Acne cleared up even without Lance’s ten step routine.

You walk across the bridge, trying not to look down. The viewing platform was clear glass in space, you could lay on it. It freaked you out a little.

It was the only constantly dark place in the castle.

You still yelp when you spot Keith, his eyes luminous violet like a glow in the dark t-shirt. That should have tipped all of you off, but alien was not the first thing that came to mind when you previously believed aliens had never visited earth.

He whimpers, curling up further.

“Keith,” you gulp, focusing on him and not the glass separating you from the void of space. “What’s wrong?”

He looks up at you miserably, blinking sluggishly. “I have the worst migraine.”

“And you’re down here instead of getting painkillers?”

Keith shrugs. “It’s not as bad, quiet. Dark.”

You sit down next to him. “I can go get you something,” you offer, your cheeks warming up and it was ridiculous how you can’t even manage to act normal around him anymore.

“Coran already gave me a dose.”

“Oh.” You were hurt. You were supposed to be the medic. That was your role on Team Voltron.

You hug your knees to your chest, and look down at space. It was darker than the photographs back on earth. Not so purple and blue.

You weren’t Matt who was just as good as Pidge with technology or Allura who was the leader and a princess to boot, you’d just planned on having a late dinner with Hunk once he got over the motion sickness before Lance roped you into following Pidge. You weren’t a paladin.

Keith shuts his eyes. “You were with Allura. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s no bother.” You swallow thickly, letting silence fall over you both.

You listen to Keith breathing, looking around the darkness of space for any familiar stars. You knew the space around Shay’s Balmerra, and Arus was at least a little familiar. But the universe was so vast and wide.

There were planets you’d only ever been to once, each with a different night sky. Some of them never even had a night, with multiple suns staving off a night cycle.

“Do you think Allura minds?”

“Mind what,” you ask.

Keith clenches his jaw, rubbing his temples. “That I look more Galra.”

Allura has always been harder on the Galra. For her, it had been such a short time since Zarkon had destroyed her world and her people. You didn’t agree, but you could understand where she was coming from, the pain still there as she continuously wore Altean mourning pink.

You look over at him, the outline of his body against the glass. “I think your marks look cool.”

“Bullshit.”

“I do,” you whisper gently, considerate of his migraine. Those were the worst. “They frame your face. You look nice,” you finish lamely, looking away. You look nice. Lance might say stupid things but at least he tried.

“What if I looked even more Galra?”

“Like completely purple and tall?” You couldn’t really wrap your head around it. It also seemed incredibly unlikely. Could his phenotype change so drastically? On earth the answer was no, but who knows how the Galra work. It was fascinating to see such a wide range of traits in one species.

He was also half human.

You worried if his body would even tolerate such a drastic change.

“Yes,” he says, not waiting for you as he rants in agitation, “the rebels hate the Blade and Allura doesn’t trust them at all and that’s not even mentioning Lotor.”

“That’s not true. Te-Osh likes Acza and Ezor. Lotor’s kind of annoying if we’re being honest, and I’m sure his being Zarkon’s son makes it a little hard to believe he’s on our side,” you try to reason. “And don’t write off the Galra who have changed sides or were in the camps right alongside other aliens.”

Keith says nothing in response, mouth a thin line as he thinks.

You wonder how long it’s been bugging him.

You want to reach out and hug him, but he isn’t Hunk. You’re not sure he’d want to if he’s not initiating the contact. So you don’t.

“Everyone knows how the last Galra paladin worked out.” A low growl in the back of his throat is enough to clue you in to how distressing this was for him.

Your heart hurts. “And everyone knows you’re not Zarkon,” you state evenly back. “We already know you’re Galra.”

Keith snorts humorlessly. You can’t see his eyes; they’re hidden by his bangs.

“The glowing eyes are not exactly subtle dude,” you point out, “not to mention your hair does the poof thing guinea pigs do when they’re eating, but not when you’re eating, more like when you get annoyed.”

“I-what!” His eyes go comically wide as he sits up. His dark hair does the thing, making him look like a character from those old Japanese kids movies.

You giggle, “you’re doing it.”

Keith tries to look at his reflection in the glass.

You blush, grateful that it’s too dark to see, and then realize that wasn’t true for him, so you look away, hoping he didn’t notice. “Yeah. I’m the medic, it’s my job to know these things. Like how Pidge has two webbed digits on her foot and Lance is allergic to flax seeds and bees.”

“That…makes sense.” Then he smiles, “still didn’t put two and two together.”

“Don’t be a smartass.” Reason number three thousand Iverson had it out for him back at the harrison. “And if anyone has a problem with you I’ll kick their ass.”

“You?” Keith snorts. “You wouldn’t even flip me during self defense.”

“You remember that?” You run a hand over your face, “I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” you always took forever to practice on your partner. And your weak arms didn’t help.

“That’s what the mats were for.”

“Still!”

Keith laughs at your expense.

You smile, taking delight in watching him smile and laugh and you wish it could always be like this and the war would just end.

Then you sober up. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

He doesn’t answer you right away.

“Keith-” you reach out, voice cracking. “You’re going to be okay, giant purple space cat or not, right?”

He takes your hand, squeezing it firmly. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

“Good,” you utter, but tears bead up in your eyes anyway. It was terrifying watching someone go through something unknown that you couldn’t help them through for all your medical training. You knew how to set bones and run a pod…not whatever this was.

You trusted Keith.

He knew himself better than anyone. After all, he’d been right about his teeth growing back.

“You really are worried,” he whispers in disbelief.

“Duh.”

“I can smell it on you,” then he seems to realize what he said, and pulls away, ducking his head. Like he hadn’t meant to say so much.

“Really?” Learning about anything alien biology was pretty cool, you had to admit. Allura had once described colours that you couldn’t perceive. It was a fun talk. And then she’d made you meditate for alchemy stuff or so she claimed. It might have just been payback. “Is that new?”

“Yeah,” Keith admits, still drawn into himself. “Can we not-I already feel like enough of a freak already without,” he waves aggressively at himself.

You bite your lip, nodding. You wanted to say something, to get it through his head how you saw him, incredibly kind and fiercely loyal (to the point of taking on Zarkon by himself) and an endearing smile you never got tired of seeing.

You liked him.

The universe was lucky to have him as a paladin.

But you don’t know how to say it in a way he’d accept. And he asked you to drop it, so you do. “Right, I’ll just go then.” He’d been here first, and the glass made you nervous.

Could it withstand a hit from a galra battleship?

Keith opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but he just nods, then winces, “Argh,” he groans as he curls up on his side, covering his ears with his hands.

You rush to his side, kneeling next to him, “Keith,” you utter softly, not wanting to make it worse.

His eyes are pressed close and for all your medical know-how, you’re at a loss.

So you running your fingers through his hair soothingly and wait for the pain to pass.

He shifts, laying his head in your lap as he whimpers.

You can’t stand to watch him and do nothing. You press your com, pinging Shiro and Coran. This was beyond you. He’d trust Shiro with whatever was going on and he’d gone to Coran. You respected that even if it did sting.

Your pride meant little so long as Keith felt comfortable and sought help.

“Shh, shh,” you whisper gently.

Sweat beads on his brow.

Whines escape his throat.

“Fuck,” he grunts, clenching his teeth.

He’s warm to your touch and that rouses another bout of worries. At this temperature it’s a fever, but he didn’t have the symptoms, the flushed cheeks and chills.

Keith curls up further, muscles stiff.

You’re helpless.

After what feels like ages, Shiro and Coran finally appear.

“Number four, Number five,” Coran claps his hands.

You hold out your hand, motioning them to shut the fuck up as Keith winces at the sound.

His hair is damp near his ears.

“Keith,” Shiro utters much more gently, kneeling down on his other side, “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

He raises his head, blinking groggily at Shiro, trying to concentrate through the pain, “Shiro,” he reaches for his brother who easily pulls him against his chest. Keith buries his head in the crook of Shiro’s neck.

You sit back, trying to get out of the way. Your hands are wet.

You look down and realize it’s blood. His ears-

Oh god.

“Number five,” Coran says gently, helping you up, “I’ll take great care of our Paladin. Why don’t you go get cleaned up.”

You don’t get any sleep that night.

——————

You were always struck with cognitive dissonance walking around colonized planets like Rahiri where the natives and Galra lived side by side. This was not a planet ravaged by the empire. The flora-like aliens in all shades of green with rootish limbs and leaves and petals for hair had assimilated into the Empire, achieving citizenship over generations. 10,000 years deca-phoebs was a long time. That was a huge source of tension in the Alliance, what to do with the world who neither wanted or wished to leave the Empire.

It was also a source of dark humor that no one spared the four of you a second glance despite two paladins of Voltron walking around.

Hunk holds Shay’s hand in front of you as they point and awe and drag their feet on the way to the space port.

“You could always stay with,” Hunk says hopefully, “we could just drop you off. Personal taxi service.”

Shay smiles back kindly, “that would be wonderful but I have been away from home for too long. I am, as you say, a homebody.”

“Aw, yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I feel that. I like the ground. And dirt. Piloting is overrated.”

“Don’t let yellow here you say that,” Keith comments so dry, you think he’s serious for a second. Allura and Pidge had gone shopping for supplies. That was an advantage of a planet that had not seen war.

Hunk glances back, clearly having forgotten we had tagged along in case anything went down. “Yeah well, she’d like a small moon. Or an asteroid. There’s colonies on those.”

“Very true,” Shay laughs. “I think my balmerra is also like a moon. A beautiful creature. We have learned how to ask for crystals so we do not need to cut them.”

“That’s impressive. Did the books from Allura help,” Hunk asks.

As much as you liked getting to stretch your legs, seeing a different planet where the threat was not imminent, you didn’t like being a third wheel, or fourth wheel if you went according to Coran’s favorite numbering pattern. That inch difference between you and Keith mocked you.

You glance over at the red paladin.

His gaze kept flickering back and forth, around the street. The occasional loud noise of crates being unloaded made him jump.

“You good,” you ask Keith, cracking a joke so he’d know you weren’t judging him. “You see la llorona or Davy Jones?”

“Hm?”

“You know…a famous ghost? Do they have ghosts in space?”

Keith snorts, cottoning on. “They don’t even have ghosts on earth.”

You pull a face, “well that’s no fun. Seriously, you okay? Or have we been made?”

He shakes his head, glancing around again just to be sure. “So much for Zarkon’s finest.”

You laugh, following Hank and Shay into the space port. Shuttles were departing pretty consistently. Everything was in orderly fashion. You especially liked how no one was shooting at you.

“It takes some getting used to.”

“What does?” You watch as Keith shakes his head, making his hair fall back from his face.

Shay and Hunk go to the ticket counter, but you decide to find somewhere off to the side, wanting to give them privacy.

“Stuff.”

You roll your eyes at Keith, “you suck.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall, looking anywhere but at you. “Lotor explained it to me and Shiro…what’s happening.”

“Oh.” You swallow, looking at Hunk and Shay hugging and saying their goodbyes yet again. They’d said them last night at dinner, this morning in the pod, and again when you’d split from Allura and Pidge. It was cute. They were adorable.

“Sorry.”

“Hm,” you glance over at Keith, not sure why he would be sorry about anything. He was the one getting screwed over by half of his heritage.

“You’re hurt.”

“You can smell that too,” you ask him, holding his deep gaze. There was an intense commitment to everything Keith did; it was reflected in the depth of his violet gaze. He didn’t do things in halves.

“Now I can.” He looks at his shoes, red dusting his cheeks. The red didn’t tinge the purple marks on his skin.

“So this is all,” you’re not sure how to put it, “nothing to worry about?”

“He said it was normal. But because I’m half there’s no way to know what to expect.” He looks away as he says it, stiff as he glances around.

The anxiety that had settled into your jaw since you’d had to wash his blood off your hands eases up. “Giant purple space cat,” you joke, nudging his side.

“Oh fuck no,” Keith grumbles. Even that furrowed expression that crossed his chiselled features made you feel all giddy inside.

Bad timing.

“I’m not hurt I-I just wish you trusted me,” you finally admit. It was silly. You felt selfish, so you tack on, “You know I’m here for you if you need me. We all are. I know Shiro’s your brother, but we’re your friends.”

“I know,” he sighs wistfully, “I do trust you…it’s just-it’s been hard. I don’t know how to feel about any of it and I’m not used to it either.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him, “I’m being silly, making this about me. As long as you know I’m here for you…I’m not trying to force you to tell me anything…” you cringe internally at yourself. The galaxy garrison had been made up of nerds, so it followed everyone was a character. It hadn’t helped anyone’s social skills.

You wish you could just go, I worry about you because I love you instead of stumbling through word vomit.

“Come on,” Keith brings you out of your thoughts, grabbing your hand and pushing through the crowd of people coming and going to different boarding gates, “I think Hunk’s going to need some comfort food.”

You glance around, finding Hunk’s form making it’s way to you both. He was wiping his eyes, bittersweet smile, making no move to really hide that he was crying.

“Let’s get back to Allura yeah,” he tells you both.

“Or,” you go with Keith’s idea, “we can get something to eat. Allura gave us a good hour or so.”

“Varga,” Keith supplies.

“Yeah, that.”

Hunk nods, “that sounds nice. It’s just,” he looks back at the departing shuttle, “it’s hard. It’s war and you never know when your going to see each other again but it’s not like she can just drop everything and I wouldn’t ask her too, if anything I’d like to retire there. Nice and quiet. Maybe open a restaurant…”

“Vrepit Sal two,” Keith offers.

“Could make it a chain,” you add with a smile. Hunk, like you, was not such a gung ho pilot. You had landed the flight simulation without crashing exactly once, for your final emergency protocol exam.

“Thanks guys,” Hunk grins, “but I think I’ll bring some earth out here. Give these people a taste of traditional earthlign cuisine.”

“So your menu’s going to be as long as Cheesecake Factory’s,” you ask with a silly grin.

“Maybe not that long. A burger, ramen, scratch that, pizza instead of a burger.” Hunk rubs his chin thoughtfully sniffing the air and following his nose to a food stand. You trusted him for food. He had a knack for combining goo and exotically colored food that screamed fake and poisonous into pretty great meals.

Keith was still holding your hand, not as a loose afterthought: every now and then he’d rub his thumb against the back of your hand and it sent a thrill down your spine.

You don’t pull away, wanting to savor the feel of his skin against yours even if it wasn’t that deep. You’d hugged and napped with everyone at least once, grabbing each other’s hands in the confusing crowded hovels of swamp malls (actual swamp malls and not places Coran thought of as a swamp mall).

You nab a table outside the stand.

Everything was in Galra which none of you could read. “Damn,” you mutter looking over.

Hunk glances at Keith without subtlety.

You were starting to think only Allura and Shiro could do subtly.

Keith raises a brow.

“Nothing,” Hunk looks down at his screen.

“Point and hope for the best it is,” you shrug.

“I love a good surprise,” Hunk nods, then looks down at his hands, “we’ll see each other again right? Shay…they’re pretty safe. And well…yellow’s got thick armour.” He sighs, resting his cheek against his fist, elbows on the table.

“Shay’s a badass,” you confort Hunk, “she figured out how to communicate with the Balmera and through the Balmera. She’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty freaking amazing,” Hunk blushes.

You order from an alien that somewhat resembles Ezor, all cotton candy color, and twiddle your thumbs, enjoying the rare moment of rest and relaxation.

“I could get used to this,” Hunk comments, savoring the strange dish he’d been served.

“Get a travel food show,” you tease, “I’d watch it.”

“It could be like this all the time,” Keith muses hopefully, “aren’t planets like this proof we could all get along.” He bites into the glowing blue lotus root shaped meal, and blinks widely.

“What,” you ask, looking over at him.

Keith grabs a napkin and spits out his food. “I think I just lost another tooth.”

“You think,” Hunk raises a brow, “how could you not notice a missing tooth?”

“Smile,” you nudge Keith sitting next to you.

He rolls his eyes, before fake smiling which was always so undeniably forced when he did it. You laugh, nodding, “yup, missing tooth.”

Keith frowns for a second, before continuing to eat.

“Oh,” Hunk utters, before he kicks your leg lightly.

You look up, meeting the yellow paladin’s searching gaze.

He looks at you with a knowing smile.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, the tip of your nose burning hotly, you look down, shoving a questionable sticky black slice into your mouth. It was easy to chew despite the sticky-ness, the flavor starchy and nutty.

There was no way this wouldn’t get back to everyone else in the Castle. No way.

They were all so nosy.

Oh fuck.

——————

“It sure is hot in here,” Lance says with a challenging smirk at Keith.

You roll your eyes.

Lance stretches, resting his arms against the back of the sofa, his hand tapping annoyingly against your shoulder.

Keith is unmoved. Or more accurately, Keith’s mouth twists as he tries hard to ignore Lance’s latest attempts to get him to remove his hat, a lime green thing that clashed perfectly as was his fashion sense, or lack of any fashion sense.

Pidge smacks her head, then peaks curiously at Keith: at Keith’s hat.

You flick Lance’s cheek. “Hey hot shot, don’t hug me when you’ve set the thermostat to ninety degrees.”

“Ninety five actually,” he winks, hugging you towards him. Ugh, you couldn’t do it. You’d already done away with your afghan coat, tied your lavender flannel around your waist, what more could you do. You didn’t have shorts in space. The skirts stored in the castle were breezy, but made you feel at risk of tripping over the hem with each step.

“Hm,” Keith voices, taking a seat, “reminds me of home.”

Hunk snorts, “really thought that through,” he tells Lance.

Lance is undeterred. “Could go higher.”

“I don’t think your cow would like that very much,” you point out.

The blue paladin sulks, looking down at you, “you’re just saying that because you like-”

You jab your elbow into his side.

“Ow! What ever happened to do no harm?”

“Technically,” you tell Lance, “I never graduated.”

“She’s got you there,” Pidge smirks from beside Keith. She was taking apart yet another radio. The signal had yet to reach earth.

“Thank you Pidge.”

She shrugs, “It’s true.” Then turns on Keith, “The hat, explain.”

He looks like he wishes he could merge with the sofa at that, slumping in his seat.

You decide to step in, “I’m going to turn the thermo down.”

Lance is quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back onto the sofa, “come on, relax. Like mullet said, it’s homey.”

You throw him a dirty look.

“Keith?” Pidge side-eyes her fellow paladin. He’s sat up, gripping the sofa cushion so tightly he’s ripping hole into the ten thousand year upholstery.

“You okay there buddy,” Hunk asks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

Keith sucks in a breath, and with deliberate motion, pulls the hat from his head.

Oh.

Your eyes widen.

OH.

His ears had changed.

They weren’t nearly as alien as Allura’s, but no one would mistake their shape for human. Keith’s ears tapered up and out, portrudding, but it was more than just a pointed tip, the entire shape of his ears had transformed, resembling a butterfly’s wing. It was still human in color, but…

Hunk breaks the stunned silence first, “so are you going to like to end up purple?”

Keith ducks his head, wrapping his arms around himself.

No one else gets the chance to further interrogate Keith, or hear his own thoughts, because Allura calls everyone up to the bridge.

Lotor hailed the Castle of Lions. Everyone stands around the bridge while Shiro and Allura take the lead as usual. They might as well be twins given how well they got on, communicating differing ideas without undermining the other.

“There are nine warships in the system,” Lotor acknowledges, “I would be much indebted if you would do me the favor of sending Voltron for the aerial battle.”

“The Empire’s presence is still in its early stages,” Acza explains, “but their terraforming development for the planet will cause the destruction of the Talpidae living there.”

“Then we have no choice,” Allura clenches her fist, never one to sit back while there was something she could do about it, “we will provide air support. Sent me the coordinates so that I may Teleduv there.”

Lance is still obviously eyeing Keith’s latest development. It was readily visible, and you were fighting the urge to do the same.

But you weren’t also trying to flick his ears.

Keith growls lowly.

Lance sniggers.

Pidge offers Lance a piece of paper to make paper balls with.

Hunk sighs long sufferingly, having resigned himself to the more childish side of his two friends. They were terrors. Put Pidge and Lance together, and they were gremlins out of a horror movie made for elementary school teachers.

You slip your hand into Keith’s, squeezing reassuringly. It would take some getting used to like anytime someone got a new haircut, but you would. Like his atrocious boots, they’d become an endearing part of him.

Keith squeezes your hand back.

Shiro nods, agreeing with Allura, “have the Talpidae been contacted.”

“Very much so,” Ezor chimes in, “they’re funny little people. And their sensory-”

“The point Ezor,” Lotor sighs, rubbing his nose bridge.

“They sent for help to the rebels. We were closest to their system,” Exor elaborates with a shrug, “they do not have the background to fight head on, and will evacuate most of their people into bunkers, but they have been digging under the new construction and weakening the structural integrity of the Galra outposts.”

“Very well,” Shiro accepts, “Princess Allura and our chief medic will meet with the Talpidae as a show of goodwill.”

“Our only medic,” Hunk points out.

Keith growls, his hand squeezing yours hard.

You all look over at him.

“Red Paladin,” Allura says, trying to look as professional as possible in front of her least favorite of Voltron’s allies, “is something the matter.” She shares a look with Shiro, but otherwise looks unsurprised at Keith’s less than human ears.

Or maybe she’d make a great poker played.

“Can’t you meet with the Talpidae after the battle,” Keith utters harshly.

“They may need immediate tactical support,” Allura reasons, “we should be there in person to provide it.”

“It’ll be fine Keith,” Shiro adds.

Their words do little to calm Keith down. His dark silky hair puffs up. His grip on your hand tightens and you feel miffed. You’d been on the ground working triage before. You might not be a fighter or pilot but you could look after yourself.

You pull your hand out of his. “I really don’t see what the problem is,” you tell Keith pointedly.

“I’ll watch Allura’s back and she’ll have mine.”

Allura nods. “Our chief medic is correct-”

His ears twitch, “You’re not exactly a fighter.”

Shiro covers his face with a hand.

Your brows furrow. You’re livid. “So! I won’t be fighting. We’ll be in the bunkers with the Talpidae. It’ll be safe so it doesn’t even matter.”

“If it’s perfectly safe then you don’t need to be there,” Keith’s voice breaks, a whine escaping his chest but you don’t care, done with the conversation.

“Yikes,” is Ezor’s quiet whisper.

You’re not a paladin so you don’t care, you just stalk off the bridge ready to go scream into your pillow in frustration. Or better yet, go for a swim and scream underwater.

“Wait-” Keith follows you.

You ignore him.

“I just-,” he keeps trying as you stalk down the stairs, deciding your room was better after all if only because you could lock Keith out.

“Listen-,” he whines.

“I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t mean what,” you round on him, hands on your hips, pissed off and maybe some of its was from being stuck on this stupid ship all the damn time but like eighty percent was earned. You might not be taking on a squad of Galra soldiers, but you could take one on if it came to it.

Keith at least has the decency to look miserable, sad chirrups in his throat as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at the ground.

“Well?” You tap your foot on the ground.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he finally manages. “Especially if you don’t need to be there.”

“But I do,” you counter, “There’ll be people running into those bunkers having escaped soldiers and sentries and the faster they get treated the better chance they have.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Keith repeats himself. “You-you can hold your own.” He looks up at you through his bangs, still hunched in on himself.

“Obviously.” There’s no heat, the anger having deflated already. It was just white hot ache in your chest, hurt at the idea that Keith thought you would get in the way, that you had nothing of value to add to the Alliance and Voltron.

You bite your lip.

Don’t cry, you think to yourself.

You were being dumb.

He was just being plain stupid.

“I mean it,” Keith repeats, “I’m sorry. I was just looking for an excuse to make sure you were safe.”

“Right, because Allura can handle herself but I can’t.” Your voice cracks.

“No,” Keith says in a rush, “it’s not the same.”

“Because I can’t fight?”

“That’s not,” Keith runs a hand through his hair, “It’s me okay. I’m-I’ve always jumped into things without thinking, but I decided to go for it, like breaking Shiro out but now I’m doing things before I even notice and it’s all these stupid Galra instincts!”

You swallow.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you once more. “I didn’t mean to and I’m sorry. No one thinks you can’t handle yourself. That’s why Shiro paired you up with Allura, because he knows you’re capable of watching her back.”

Your smile is fragile as you look over at him, “yeah?”

“Yeah.” Keith holds your gaze, looking as skittish as a stray dog. Another whine escapes his throat.

What the heck.

You hug him, “you’re such a dumbass.” You understood why he’d worry. This was war. Pidge was on a two man campaign with Shiro to get Matt to stay on the Castle, both scared witless that Matt might die on a mission with the rebels. Ulaz had died so everyone could get away.

You’d had patients in the last decaphoebs you could do nothing but ease their pain. You’d had patients that you couldn’t even administer anything for the pain because of how torn apart they were: guts spilling out, charred people shapes that you were surprised to still find breathing.

The images would never leave you as long as you lived.

“I’m sorry.” Keith buries his head in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin sent shivers down your spine.

You hug him tightly, aware that every battle could be your last: the last time you saw him. “You’ve said that already,” you tease, memorizing the smell of him, stale sweat and something cloying that you had wanted to bottle up from the moment you’d met him and had never found on anyone else. As embarrassing as it was to admit to anyone other than yourself, Keith smelled good. Really good.

Most people smelled like nothing at all.

He stiffens.

“But it’s nice to hear again.”

Keith smothers a laugh.

You kiss his hair. Boys were so dumb.

He purrs.

You smile goofily, warmth building under your skin, and toes curling up in your shoes. You should say something. Right?

At some point?

Or maybe it shouldn’t be said under the looming threat of an upcoming battle.

Fuck.

You can’t decide, so you say nothing at all.

——————

Bombs still pelt the surface.

Your teeth chatter as the ground shakes even deep underground. Even more soil falls onto you. Your spacesuit was more oche than white at this point as you carry an injured Talpidae in your arms. It’s arm had been completely blown off. Sluggish blue blood oozed out.

Allura was last, tailing the group.

You reach the bunker.

The sentries had followed some of the feeling Talpidae into the tunnels, but they’d been sorted out.

The people here were strange, russet in fur colouring, with no discernable eye, just strange pink flagella protruding from their nose and large claws for digging. They stood at about Pidge’s height.

The bunker seals and you get to work.

Tourniquet here, pain patch there. There were so many of them banged up.

The fight continued on the surface.

The paladins had to form Voltron.

You and Allura work as a team, she takes the bruises and broken bones with no immediate risk of death. You triage the worst of the Talpidae, giving away your precious stash of painkillers to those you can’t save and are not in for a quick death, a Talpidae lies twitching, it’s nose blown off but alive. Another holds it’s hand, but shakes their head when they look at you. They weren’t going to make it.

Training kicks in and you focus on saving those you can.

Your hands stain blue from the blood.

Allura works alongside you.

You cauterize a Talpidae named Soedob’s hand, the claws on their right limb were gone, but most of it was spared.

“You smell Galra,” Soedob utters, blinking out of the pain induced haze as the painkiller kicked in.

You half hear, half don’t, so focused on the task at hand. It was easier to not stop until you were finished and could curl up and sleep and not think about blood and war and Zarkon.

“We have Galra allies,” Allura answers diplomatically, leaving the issue of the half Galra paladin alone.

It irked you.

“No, not them,” Soedob notes. “Those had a different aura.”

“Smell,” you guess, finishing off. You hoped the fighting ended soon. You supply was not unlimited. The castle had better facilities.

“Is that what you call it?”

“Our primary sense is sight,” Allura explains, giving you a long look.

You shrug. You hadn’t even seen any of Lotor and his team. There hadn’t been time. It had all been relayed over coms, over video.

“Another then?”

You swallow thickly, flushing with embarrassment because you both spent time around Keith but Soedob was only smelling him on you and it’s not like you had been doing anything intimate…well, it had felt intimate, hugging Keith, but it wasn’t anything like when cadets snuck into each others dorm room, shoving a sock on the door handle in the universal symbol of don’t bother us. “The red paladin is part Galra.” Mercifully, your voice doesn’t shake from the embarrassment, but you can’t look at Allura.

“Ah,” Soedob nods, neither outraged nor pleased.

Then there’s no more time, you have more Talpidaes waiting for medical aid. You give their own healers some of your supplies, freeing up Allura to find the clan leaders.

You can feel Allura’s questioning glance on you.

——————

“Team meeting in the mess hall,” Shiro calls over the coms system.

“Mess hall,” Pidge rolls her eyes, “it’s the dining room.”

You snort.

“I like to think of it as the dining room too,” Hunk offers. “I mean there’s only eight of us. It’s sort of like being home again.”

“Mess hall makes me think of the garrison,” you admit, falling into step besides them. “and the food.”

“Ugh,” Pidge groans. “That was the worst. Matt wasn’t kidding.”

“It does make the space packs easier to digest,” you muse, “maybe that was the point.” It took the garrison two years to get to Mars. It was funny, once you’d thought that was a long way from home.

“I liked the cheese garlic bread,” Hunk allows.

“Food goo,” Pidge grins, “or the garrison space food?”

“Food goo.” Hunk doesn’t even have to think.

“Food goo,” you agree. “Though not Coran’s paladin special.”

“You don’t even eat that,” Hunk huffs, half outraged half amused, “you’re always like well I’m not a paladin so…”

You laugh. “Seeing it is more than enough.”

The rest of the ship’s inhabitants are already there waiting for you. Lance is trying to teach Coran how to play slide, moving very slow as he claps their hands together.

Shiro and Allura are in easy conversation. Her mice scamper around her feet.

Keith looks absolutely miserable next to Shiro, folding himself into the smallest possible size, trying to disappear. It was hard to reconcile the Keith that was quiet with the Red Paladin that shot first and asked questions later.

You smile at him, excited to see him, but also figuring he could use some reassurance, whatever it was going through his head. Keith meets your gaze and the corners of his mouth turn up, before he ducks away.

You know better than to take it personally.

It was Keith.

Your toes curl inside your shoes and you bite back your smile, suddenly aware of how much you might be revealing and not wanting Lance of all people to start a meeting by commenting on it. For him, it might be all fun and games, but you weren’t sure what to do with these newfound warm and fuzzy feelings. You sure as fuck didn’t want to be called out on it.

You weren’t sure what to do about liking Keith so your current plan of action was: nothing.

“Thank you everyone for being here,” Shiro claps his hands together, his leader impression defaulted at awkward dad. He thought he always had to be on. Despite being the most trained out of us, he’d only just started his career during the Kerberos mission.

You wonder if he’d picked up his leadership style partly from Pidge’s dad.

“Where else would we be,” Pidge shrugs, never one to miss a shot.

“All the same,” the older man smiles.

“Yeah, no problem my dude, bro,” Lance flashes finger guns at Shiro.

You snort, taking a seat between him and Hunk.

“But seriously, what’s up,” Lance leans forward. “Or is this some lowkey way to keep us on our toes,” he winks at Allura who smiles indulgently.

“I await the news alongside you paladins,” Allura answers, hands resting in her lap. She looks over at Shiro.

The whole room turns to look at Shiro.

He had called the meeting.

Meetings tended to be informational in nature: updates about the expansive war, rebels hailing Voltron for intervention, the Blade passing on the rare bit of information, and the always popular distress signals. But Shiro and Allura both looked too calm for that.

Keith goes rigid, a spring wound up too tight.

Hm.

You wondered if the elephant in the room would finally be addressed.

Shiro puts his hand on Keith’s shoulder, smiling encouragingly the way a parent dropping their child off for their first day of school would, “go ahead Keith.”

The red paladin focuses his gaze on Shiro, his expression more sour than it’s been in a long time.

The past few years had done a lot to get him to open up to everyone on board, but right now, he looks exactly like the stubborn closed off cadet he had been back on Earth.

His ears twitch slightly. He manages to look even more taunt, and you wonder if he’s going to wave this off. Then, he lets out a breath.

His body is stiff, but Keith no longer pulls away from Shiro. He looks down at his hands pensively, nails cut to the quick. “Right.”

You can feel the nervous energy of the rest of the room, leaning in, waiting to see what Keith wants to say.

“Mhm, go on,” Lance says, chin in hand.

Hunk elbows him in the side.

“Hey!” Lance is about to start in on Hunk.

“Guys,” you snap, shoving Lance’s shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” Lance zips his mouth and throws away the key, “shutting up.”

“Looks like that didn’t work,” Pidge snarks.

“Paladins,” Allura’s clear commanding voice rings out. When everyone shuts up again, she nods at Keith, “you may continue.”

He looks up at everyone through his bangs, “I’m going through Galra settling.”

Hunk looks over at Allura, who was far more familiar with all this alien mumble jumble than anyone else.

Shiro squeezes Keith’s shoulder.

“And that is,” you prompt gently, before Keith hastily decided that was all he needed to say and left.

He meets your waiting gaze. Under the ship’s bright rooms, his eyes were obviously violet, heavy on the purple. He’s chewing his bottom lip like he isn’t sure he wants to go through with saying any of this and you wonder if he must be thinking of how weird things were between everyone when he learned of the alien part of his heritage.

Your mouth quirks up into a smile.

You were more than willing to stuff someone into a cryopod if they bothered Keith. He may be part of Voltron, tasked with defending the universe, but you’d make sure there was someone to defend him.

An embarrassing rush of heat bubbles under your skin. You look away, nervous.

“Shiro,” Keith asks.

Shiro nods, wrapping his arms fully around Keith’s shoulder. “Galra settling is when Galra,” he looked like he was trying to figure out exactly what he was talking about as he said it. Aliens were weird. “When Galra reach a certain age their appearance locks in.” Even Shiro looks a little puzzled. He was a pilot, not a biologist. You knew organisms back on earth who could manipulate their genotypes, generally sex changes with the right environmental conditions, but you weren’t sure there was anything comparable to whatever this was. “The Galra are apparently very adaptable in individuals. That’s why there’s such a range of them.”

Huh.

That explained the fur, range of tails, more reptilian looking once, and the eyes.

You wanted a Galra biology course, a full semester long one. What exactly caused such a plasticity in their phenotype? Did the trait have to be encoded in their genotype to appear or was there something freakier, Allura’s space magic, going on?

“-because he’s half human and we don’t go through anything like this it’s more painful than it would be. Lotor said the chameleonic abilities of Alteans helped him when he went through this,” Shiro finishes without a satisfying or thorough explanation.

At least Keith wasn’t dying.

Thank god.

Thank whatever freaky Altean magic existed in the universe.

“So,” Lance starts, “it’s Galra puberty.”

In a split second Keith loses any self consciousness about the situation, “it’s not Galra puberty!” His hair puffs up and you have to fight the urge to laugh, covering your face with your hands.

“There’s…” Shiro glances at Keith, before Lance and Keith could really get into it, “there’s more.”

Keith looks mullish, but ultimately gives Shiro the go ahead.

“Part of these..changes,” the black paladin explains, “have brought out some Galra instincts.” Clearly he was having as much trouble grappling with what this meant as Keith was. Your body suddenly deciding to change was no fun when you had no context for it. “Among them, the need to scent family…”

Pidge tilts her head, “is this like the most convoluted and emotionally constipated way of asking for a hug,” she asks Keith.

Keith smiles wryly, “pretty much.”

“Oh come here dude,” Hunk grins, engulfing Keith and Shiro in a hug.

“Ah number four,” Coran points up in the air, “I am now just recalling the galra that lived on Altea having explained this once, of course it didn’t occur to me because of the apparent dominance of your human genes.”

“So they’re actually co-dominant,” you muse as Lance drags Pidge along for a “group hug!”

“No.no,” Pidge makes a half-hearted effort to wiggle out, being a younger sibling herself, was used to being subjected to affection. She smiles even as she struggles.

“It would seem so,” Coran nods, “though not every gene.”

“Just these.” You wonder if there’s a space equivalent of the human genome project.

“Lance,” Keith yelps, “that’s my foot.”

“Buddy, I am not feeling the love here.”

“Is it working,” Hunk asks, peering at Keith, “are you going to turn purple now?”

“No one turns purple from hugs,” Keith replies, annoyed but makes no move to pull away.

“Thank you for trusting us with this Keith,” Allura smiles, her eyes crinkling.

“Get in on this too Princess,” Shiro motions over, before catching your gaze, “you too. Don’t think you can get out of this. You’re part of Voltron too.”

You snort, and join the group hug.

Pidge’s elbow is a bony thorn in your side and there’s the slight hum from Shiro’s prosthetic, but it’s a good mix of warmth and intimacy with the people you were closest to in the entire universe. Allura’s shoulder presses into you back and it’s sort of ballooned to ridiculous proportions, Keith somewhere in the center of it all, his hair barely visible to you.

“Add cuddling Keith to the chore wheel,” Pidge proposes.

Keith groans.

“How about we let Keith decide,” Shiro proposes.

You snort, knowing him too well. “Are you willing to take that risk? Died-from lack of hugs.”

Lance laughs.

Shiro looks convinced by your stellar argument.

“I’m not that bad,” Keith grumbles.

“You’re a terrible hugger,” Lance argues back. “You’re all stiff, like you’re enduring one of Iverson’s paradox sims. Not as bad as my abuelo but still.”

Keith lunges for Lance.

Someone topples over.

Everyone falls.

You laugh, smothered by limps and someone’s hair in your mouth…maybe Hunk’s? You don’t move, worried about kicking someone’s head.

From somewhere, Keith does that low rumbling chest noise that reminds you of a cat purring happily.

No one makes fun of him for it.

——————

“You should comb your hair before we take the pod down,” you tell Keith. You’d spent your free time before this alliance dinner scrolling through a datapad, trying to learn names, where they hailed from, species, things that may prove useful.

Half a varga ago, Keith had found you balled up on a sofa, and sat next to you, his way of asking for physical comfort. You’d obliged him readily, throwing an arm over his shoulders and spooning him as you both laid on the sofa. He was already in the paladin uniforms that Allura had dug out once the alliance became a reality instead of a loose string of rebel groups fighting the Galra empire.

You’re both short and slight, fitting together perfectly.

You squash any feelings you have, this wasn’t about you, it was about him. You’d done it a thousand times with Hunk or Lance, fallen asleep listening to Allura, why should Keith be any different? (You know why.)

He’s reading the screen with you.

“I doubt they’d notice,” he remarks as you scroll to a particularly vivid color alien race with sensory appendages sprouting from their heads.

“You have a point desert bum,” you tease, “I’d rather be a bum by a beach town. All surfer bro.”

“Can you even surf,” he asks flatly.

“No. Learned how to swim at the garrison,” you admit. “But tanning by the water has to be more appealing than roasting under the Texas sun.”

“I like the desert.”

“I know.” You were pretty sure everyone just liked their homes.

“It’s quiet,” he admits, “and watching how the sunlight transforms the landscape…”

“It’s too big and wide,” you admit, thinking of space. Flat land that went on forever…empty dark space that went on forever.

“Good for driving,” Keith smirks.

You laugh. Or course that’s where his mind went. “Sure, but it all looks the same, everywhere you turn.” It was disorienting. To be fair, you were a city girl. Your background noise was cars honking and people yelling even at four in the morning. The garrison had been a big adjustment.

“It’s really not. You just have to look.”

“I’ll trust my gps,” you counter, “not my sense of direction. I’d probably end up one of those cautionary tales about mirages and deserts.”

“You can’t really get a good signal,” Keith replies lazily, his body slack against yours, “out there. It’s best to mark a trail with chalk if you don’t know the area.”

“But you do, know it I mean?”

“Out past the Garrison? Mhm. All of it. We used to go hiking…before,” he trails off.

You press your lips to his hair lightly, before shifting, “my arms asleep.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” You sit up, “it’s nice. I used to put my sister to sleep this one year she had nightmares almost every night.”

“You miss her,” Keith states, sitting up, looking at you with his intense expression. Having someone focused one hundred percent on you was a new experience. He wasn’t thinking of a thousand other things, just you.

“I do. I miss everyone, but,” you shrug, “I’ll see them again. Meanwhile you’re stuck with me.” You smile fondly at Keith. “I’m going to change before we have to go to dinner.”

“I’d take fighting Zarkon anyday,” Keith mutters, cringing at the upcoming show of diplomacy. There was so much smiling and hand shaking. It was exhausting to be that extroverted with a roomful of strangers.

Even Lance zonked out after these things.

“Knock on wood,” you laugh.

_____________

Treaties have been signed. A wrecked Galra fleet floats in space above the planet your on today, but today’s battle is won.

One of Lotor’s General’s is here, Acza. She’s wary, and surprised at the warm reception she’d received. She might be Galra, but she’d been crucial in taking down the Galra base’s shields. Biolocks, Zarkon should really rethink those.

You sip at your thick drink, warm and flavored like cinnamon oatmeal, that chases off the chill of the night. The idea had been to sleep, your hands still ached from all the sutures and stitches you’d woven, but Allura refused to hear it, dragging you along. There would be time for sleep on the Castle, she’d claimed, joyous to have helped another besieged planet.

“My congratulations,” a Blade utters from behind their glowing mask.

You jump, not having known there was even a Blade here. They were allies, yet their anonymity that made them so useful in information gathering, created a gap between you. You had no way of knowing who this person was. Their suit obscuring any details, the mask a rank.

You couldn’t even see their eyes.

“For what,” you ask, puzzled. You hadn’t fought. Your skills made you most useful after the battle, trying to save lives and patch up wounds. It was important and emotional draining work, but you hardly won battles.

Because of the mask, you can’t get a read on their reaction. Blades. Spies. Maybe if you could see their eyes…

They nod, and walk off without explanation.

You watch them go, still confused until they disappear among the bodies loitering around, celebrating liberation.

It was a feat to disappear when you were eight feet tall.

First the Galra had avoided you like the plague, the black plague, now they were being cryptic as fuck.

You lean your head down, trying to sniff your armpits without making it too obvious. Was it the blood? Or the space bleach? That tended to linger.

You didn’t smell that bad. Certainly like bleach and rubbing alcohol…

You take another sip of your drink, looking around for a place to sit. You’d been on your feet for too long. You wanted to sleep.

Someone would find you.

You wander around. Smiling when someone notices you, and thanks you and you hurry to get away before they ask you a hundred questions. There were only eight humans in space. Well, seven and a half. You stood out.

They wanted Voltron, but you would do.

“There’s space here,” Acxa calls out.

“Thanks,” you plop down next to her, sagging into the seat. Oh, yeah, you were so freaking tired.

“Of course. You look dead.”

“Yeah,” you look around the rebel camp, “I’ve no clue how they have the energy.”

“It’s like that everywhere. This is their home,” Acza offers, “people fight hard for their homes.”

You nod, before looking over at the alien woman, “not avoiding me anymore then?”

She shrugs, not disputing the allegation. “No need anymore, now that you and Keith sorted yourselves out.” She’s so blunt about it. “Galra are so sensitive when settling. We didn’t want to cause any incidents.”

“Is this about the scenting?” You still hadn’t had time to read through the information you’d gotten your grubby little hands on.

She nods.

You put your drink down on the mossy ground. “Yeah, Keith explained it. Well, Shiro did, really. Lance is over the moon about having an excuse to bother Keith.” Now you really all were a family. You’d named it outloud.

Acxa’s brows furrow, “Lance?”

“I think he just misses his family a lot,” you offer. “We all do and while we’re family too, it’d be nice to see our family back on earth too.”

She frowns. “Keith and you are not,” she asks slowly.

“Me and Keith,” you flush, ducking away from her. “No-I, no. We’re not.” You should’ve gone back to the Castle the moment Allura turned her back. She would’ve never known.

Acxa’s frown becomes tinged with anger and worry, her hand grabs your wrist. “Galra have more than one type of scenting, between families, and between partners.”

“Oh.”

You try to connect the dots but your brain gets stuck between ideas. Scenting. Keith. You. You and Keith. It was right there but-

“Keith isn’t marking you as family,” she explains slowly, “he’s marking you as his partner.” Acxa waits until her words sink in before adding, “to do so without letting the other know…” She makes it clear what a social taboo that is.

But you’re one step behind her.

Did Keith like you?

You think back to all the times you’d been with him in the past few vargas, trying to pinpoint any hint: he’d smiled at you but he was happier now in general so it could be a coincidence…

“If you need,” Acxa offers, “I will help clarify the situation.” It’s an awfully kind gesture.

“No,” you say in a rush. “no. It’s-I think I need to go talk to Keith.” He’d known what he was doing…you could draw a thousand conclusions but nothing would be better than confronting him about it.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” you stand up, glancing around. During parties, Keith tended to find a quiet corner out of the way. He’d opened up, but he was still more of an introvert.

You find Keith lying stretched out in the shadow of a makeshift building, looking up at the stars. It’s his eyes that give him away, reflecting the light enough to be inhuman, nocturnal vision.

“We need to talk,” you wrap your arms around your body. You weren’t angry, just confused. Didn’t he know he could just come talk to you about it by now?

Keith looks up, startled, then stands. “Alright.” He sounds resigned, a man sentenced to detention for a month which was janitorial duties at the garrison. It kept even the most smartass cadets humble.

You look around.

No one was really here. You could hear the music and people a bit further into the heart of the camp. Here was good enough.

“I talked to Acxa,” you start, “she said-” you look down at the trampled vegetation underfoot. It was embarrassing to your human preconceptions to even think, let alone say, which was why you were pretty sure Keith didn’t mean any harm. Scenting meant nothing on earth, where he’d grown up. “She said you’ve been scenting me, which like I know but not that way?” You look up at him as realization sets in and he ducks his head, looking away. “Is it true?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “I-,” he takes a deep breath before ranting, the agitation and months of buried emotions flooding out, “I hate this. I hate that I can hear the conversation outside and smell which direction Shiro’s in and how much my eyes hurt on the Castle from how bright it is but I don’t-I can’t say anything because I’m already enough of a freak. Before I was just the weird kid but now I’m just a fucking alien freak! There’s always so much going on and I don’t even know what’s next!”

You wait, wondering if there was more.

It was a lot of changes.

You couldn’t understand, there was nothing in your life comparable to your biology deciding to be a little more Galra after twenty years.

“And I tried not to-,” he admits, meeting your waiting gaze, “I tried to leave everyone alone so you wouldn’t,” Keith swallows, forcing himself to continue with an obvious disgust at himself, “you wouldn’t smell like me or whatever Lotor explained but I couldn’t-it was driving me crazy like this itch, this buzzing under my skull and seeing you guys with others-I thought I was going crazy until Lotor explained. And then when Lance would ruffle my hair or you would check that I wasn’t about to fall over and die and-,” he waves his hands in the air, “I would just zone out.”

“Oh,” you utter, recalling past events with a newfound understanding. Keith had been reaching out, all instinct even when he was trying not to be a bother. It broke your heart, how he always came from the perspective that he was an inconvenience.

“I did know,” he says in a small voice. “That-you…but I don’t know if it’s me or this, or all these things happening to me.”

Your expression wobbles. You bite your lower lip, trying to get a handle on it. How silly to worry about a crush when Keith was going through it.

“I like you, but I don’t know if I like you or if it’s just these stupid Galra instincts messing with my head.” Keith deflates, drawing into himself. “Everything

s…it’s been a lot.”

“I get it,” you utter, “maybe not the situation but I’m not mad. Though Acxa was ready to kick your ass and she totally could,” you try teasing.

But Keith flinches, looking away guiltily.

“I’m joking. I-I get why. It makes sense. It’s a lot to get used to.” You swallow, not sure what to do about anything either.

“Its a huge offence,” Keith utters, “that’s why she was pissed. Made worse because you can’t even tell…I-I couldn’t think straight and I…it took the edge off.”

“Scenting me?”

He nods.

You take a step towards him.

“I-,” Keith’s eyes meet yours, his attention entirely captivated by you. It sends a thrill down your spine. You’d seen how he could be when laser focused: on piloting, on training. “I know they say it’s wrong but you and Lance do stuff like that all the time. And I thought…I figured I could figure out how much of what I’m feeling is me and how much of it are these new instincts.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you tell him. “I-you’re right, it’s whatever to me. Like, a Blade congratulated me earlier which was weird but fuck them you know? I can ‘smile and nod’,” you smile as fakely as possible to show what you mean, “through it so long as you’re okay.” He’d bled in your lap.

Keith looks a little unsteady, unsure what to do with your lack of anger. “You don’t-”

“So is it like galra marriage then?” You were curious as to what exactly the Blades were going to gossip about you and Keith.

He makes a choked sound. “Sort of. They bond. It can be broken but that generally means someone killed the other.”

“Let me guess,” you reply, “Zarkon fucked even that up.”

Keith nods.

“That guy’s the worst.” Your voice is light.

Keith snorts, smiling for a split second. “I won’t anymore. I’ll-”

“Keith,” your voice cracks as you out your hand on his arm to keep him from rubbing off, “if its really causing you all this additional confusion in too of everything…you can…” the words were too intimate to say, too charged with a sensuality that he clearly was figuring out. You were willing to wait. For him.

He was conflicted enough without you dumping your feelings on him.

“You don’t-”

You raise your hand, caressing the side of his face with the back of your hand, ghosting over the purple mark on his cheek, “I don’t mind.” Sure, you had a crush on him, you could admit that much, but more simply, you loved him.

This was a small ask.

Your gaze flickers to the tips of his ears.

You had washed his blood off your hands.

“Besides, shit’s hard enough. My arm falling asleep is a small price to pay if I can help you.”

Keith’s mouth quirks up in a smile.

You laugh, “come here.”

It finally sinks in that you weren’t just talking bs. You meant it, as you hug Keith, wrapping your arms around his middle. He smelled good in spite of the battle he’d been through earlier.

Without really thinking, you breathe in the scent of him.

Keith hugs you back, cuddling you against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You yawn. “want to sneak back into the castle?”

“Only if you tell Allura you’re the one who wanted to leave,” he deadpans dazedly.

You laugh.

——————

“Come,” Allura motions as you stand from one of the Castle’s weapons systems, “we must meet with the rebel leadership on planet.”

The planet was a farming camp.

The slaves were overworked and underfed and they had still revolted when they learned Voltron was near. Now, they were free.

“Princess,” Coran calls out, “it appears that number four is heading back to the ship.”

A pained expression crosses Allura’s broad features, her full mouth frowning, before she decides to pick her battles for the day. “I am sure Keith has a good reason for his actions.” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.

You don’t want to go down there either.

This entire last week had been spent synthesizing medicine and treating thousands of people made harder by the range of species. The garrison better give you that medical degree immediately.

“I’ll go check on him,” you say automatically, “he might need me to prep a pod.”

“Fantastic idea number five,” Coran believes your excuse.

“Let us know if anything happens,” Allura says, giving you a long look, before heading for the exit.

The central Galra soldiers had been taken out, but small bands of fighters were still fighting to their last breath. It’s why Voltron has remained on the planet.

The lions had roamed the landscape answering calls for aid and hunting down the last of Zarkon’s forces here.

You meet Keith in the red lion’s hanger.

He’s popping his helmet off, running a hand through his flattened hair. “I thought you were headed out with Allura?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling awkward. “I was, but I wanted to check on you first.” That was a normal thing to do for your friends. There was no reason to overthink things.

“I’m fine.”

He sets the helmet aside, working on undoing the armor off. There was dirt and dust but thankfully no blood to speak of, his or otherwise.

“Then I’ll see you there,” you ask.

Keith looks over, a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, his smile slight when he replies, “I’m not heading there.” Blunt. Concise.

“It is depressing,” you admit. There was so much resource allocation and need planet-wide.

He raises a brow. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Keith?” Now you’re wondering what the real problem was. “What is it?”

“Does it matter. I don’t need to be there. Shiro and Allura can handle it.” He looks away, suddenly very interested in the wall. Unlike the rest of the ship, the red lion’s hanger was dim, in a permanent night cycle.

Pidge’s work.

“I think the people would like all of Voltron present.” Then you make a face, “oh god, I sound just like Allura don’t I?”

Keith laughs, “just a bit. As long as you don’t make us all meditate…”

“It’s so boring. I fall asleep.” You smile softly, “Seriously, go down for a moment. Then you can hide out here.”

“I-I’d rather not.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Four out of five is is fine.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand,” you agree.

“I’m sure they’ll be glad.”

“Keith-” you start, knowing he already felt hyper aware of how his appearance had changed. Before, it hadn’t really ever come up outside of the team. No one would tell and if Keith wasn’t vocal about it…now everyone in the entire universe probably knew.

There were rebel Galra, mostly in prisons and work camps. Feelings varied.

“That’s not true,” you say, not sure if it was true, “you helped free them.” You shift your weight onto your other foot, “there’s a few assholes everywhere.”

He gives you a long look. “The Galra enslaved all these people.”

“Pfft,” you wave off, “you look like one sixteenth Galra. And-”

“They stare.”

“Because you’re a paladin,” you reason. “Pidge is also cranky about the attention.”

Keith sighs.

The paladin armor lies in a discarded pile.

You step forward to him, “anyone would be lucky to have you as a pilot. And Voltron sort of lucked out when the red lion chose you.”

Keith’s eyes widen as he looks at you, pink dusting his cheeks.

In for a penny, in for a pound, you lean forward and kiss his cheek, ghosting over his skin, “face marks and all.” You can’t meet his gaze when you pull away, blushing fiercely.

Why did you do that!

God, you were so dumb-

He cups your cheeks and brushes his lips over yours.

Oh! Oh.

“Is-is this okay-,” Keith starts asking.

You feel giddy, smiling before kissing him. Yeah, it was okay.

#keith kogane #vld keith #keith x reader #voltron #mine #trying this agin to see if it shows up in the tags #as usual: is this any good?#was supposed to b smut but turned into fluff

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babyboibucky · 3 years

Text

Nasty

Pairing: TFATWS!Bucky x Reader

Summary: You discover that Bucky, a black shirt and a wrist watch is a dangerous combination.

Word Count: 1,957

Warnings: TFATWS SPOILERS!!! Bucky in THAT tight black shirt, fingering, fucking on the counter, a lil’ bit of choking, very tiny hint at pain kink???

A/N: Like I said, I will never shut up about Bucky in that black shirt and the veins on his fucking arm!!!!!!! Dedicated to my nasty boo and wifey @bitchassbucky @sarge-barnes-sir because I know how thirsty we are for episode 4 Bucky 🥰🥰🥰

MAIN MASTERLIST

gif by @mcavoys tysm for this wonderful treasure that I may or may not have saved on my phone for research purposes 😌

All your thoughts flew right outside the window the moment Bucky barged into the mansion, his footsteps heavy and a scowl etched on his face. Shrugging off his jacket, it was revealed that he was merely sporting a tight black shirt which showed off his body perfectly.

The sleeves were so tight around his bicep that you couldn’t even comprehend whatever it was that Bucky was talking about. And those veins on his right arm? You had to bite the inside of your cheek to prevent a needy whine from escaping your throat.

Bucky looked ravishing in that simple outfit and the watch wrapped around his wrist did nothing to alleviate your thirst for the man.

You and Bucky have been dancing around each other since the two of you met. A little bit of flirting here and there, a few innuendos in between conversations— it was pretty obvious that there was a mutual attraction involved. However, no one seemed to be bold enough to actually do something about the spark.

But with how Bucky was unconsciously flexing his right arm as he poured himself a drink or crossed his arms over his broad chest, you weren’t sure for how long you would be able to to hold back.

“You listening still or have we lost you halfway through this discussion?” Bucky asked, eyeing you suspiciously before taking a sip from his drink.

“Huh?” You blinked in confusion, your eyes landing on his arm yet again and taking in how prominent his veins were.

What you wouldn’t do to run your fingers against that arm or to have your tongue trace that particular vein. Majority of people often paid attention to Bucky’s vibranium arm and you had to admit, you used to have nasty thoughts about it as well.

But Bucky’s flesh arm? It stirred something in you, something filthy and primal and you badly needed to do something to address it.

“I don’t think we had her attention in the first place. Since you arrived, at least.”

You turned to Sam with a glare, “Sam.” You warned.

He merely shrugged with a teasing grin before standing up, “Just saying.” He defended before excusing himself, disappearing into one of the many rooms in the mansion.

Bucky took another sip from his drink as he watched you react to his arm, your lips parting as you followed its every movement. You imagined clawing at that arm, nails scratching at his skin as you grabbed onto it while Bucky pounds into you. Or how that arm would reach around to hold your back against his chest, keeping you in place with his hand wrapped around your throat while he fucks you from behind.

“You’re thinking of something.” Bucky said.

“Want to guess?” You asked breathlessly when you noticed the look Bucky was giving you.

Oh, he knows what you were thinking about, probably because he was thinking about it too. The harmless flirting had been going on for far too long, building up the tension between you both until it reached its boiling point.

The only question was, who’s going to snap first?

“If I guess correctly, what’s in it for me?” Bucky curiously asked, raising a brow at you.

“I’ll do anything you ask of me.” You answered quickly before leaning against the countertop using your forearms.

“Anything, huh? That’s interesting.” Bucky said, mimicking your stance on the other side of the counter.

Bucky’s nose almost brushed against yours at the close proximity and that alone made your pussy throb. Fuck, you were going to snap first and Zemo be damned, you were going to get down and dirty with Bucky even if he was in the same room.

“So, any guesses?” You asked as you stared at Bucky’s lips.

“You want to take me to bed.” Bucky responded so casually, but his voice was an octave lower, raspier.

A quick shuffle followed by an emphasized cough interrupted the moment. You turned your neck and saw Zemo dusting off his coat.

“I better go and give the both of you some privacy.” He awkwardly said before slipping into a room, closing the doors immediately.

When you turned back to Bucky, his eyes were darker than before and his breathing heavier. “Gotta say, that man knows how to read the room.”

Bucky snapped first. And thank the horny gods he did because you couldn’t wait until tonight to show him how much you wanted him.

He grabbed you by the back of your head and kissed you, a moan slipping past your lips when he pulled you closer ignoring the counter that was separating you both. The edge was digging against your chest and albeit uncomfortable, you pushed yourself further to return Bucky’s kiss with the same fervor. He took it as an opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, entangling it with yours as he deepened the kiss.

Bucky was leaving you breathless with his kiss, only pulling away to let you climb up the counter until you were seated right in front of him with your legs on either side of his hips.

“Fuck me, Bucky. God, please.” You begged and grabbed his arms, moaning when you felt his right bicep flex beneath your fingers.

Bucky bit your lower lip and tugged at it, grunting as he popped the button of your jeans with his right hand. He literally popped off the button and sent it flying somewhere. The display of his strength just turned you on even more and you grabbed Bucky by the neck to kiss him again.

You squeaked into his mouth when he wrapped his vibranium arm around your lower back, pulling you down from the counter and then spinning you around.

“I’ll fuck you so good you’ll feel me in between your legs for weeks.” He growled into your ear as he harshly pulled down your jeans until it reached your thighs.

Your hands gripped the edge of the counter, your back arching when you feel Bucky’s metal hand reach around to part your pussy lips, spreading your wetness around using his middle finger.

“All this for me?” Bucky rasped into your ear.

A whine came out as a respond as you eagerly nodded your head, “All for you.” You managed to whimper.

Bucky began to rub your cunt, making you press your ass against his crotch. His right hand moved to grip your shirt in the middle, literally tearing it apart. It wasn’t a secret that Bucky had super strength and that his vibranium arm was an advantage. Seeing him show what strength his right arm had, by shredding your shirt into pieces, it made your entire body buzz from pure unadulterated need.

You needed Bucky to manhandle you, to use his brute strength to ruin you.

“You’re so turned on right now, aren’t you? Fuck, you enjoy it when I’m rough with you.” Bucky darkly chuckled before unclasping your bra, setting your breasts free for him to grope.

Bucky then moved back but only to shove down his jeans until his hard cock bobbed free, hitting your ass in the process. He wasted no time to spread your cheeks apart and you bent down willingly, sticking your ass out invitingly.

“You want this so bad, you’re fucking dripping.” Bucky groaned at the sight of your glistening pussy.

He held his cock and slowly pushed it in, letting out a growl at how easily he slid in from how wet you were. Inch by inch, you felt his cock drag along your channel until he was fully seated within your warmth.

“Bucky...” you elicited a moan. “You fill me up so good...” you breathed out, pushing back to feel more of him.

The way you clenched around his cock drove Bucky wild, his right arm immediately wrapping around you to grip your throat. Bucky pulled you upright as he started pistoling his hips against yours, fucking you hard and fast against the counter.

You grabbed his arm with both hands, nails finally digging onto his skin as you focused on how Bucky was fucking you so good. It was even better than you had imagined. His metal hand on your hip, fingers gripping you hard enough to leave you with bruises; his right arm keeping you flush against his hard chest, holding onto you so tight you could actually feel the band of his watch digging against the skin on your chest.

Only Bucky’s grunts together with your moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin was heard from then on. You were deep into your pleasure to even speak or call out his name.

Bucky wasn’t even done fucking you but you were already out of it, close to delirious even.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when Bucky bit your earlobe at the same time his metal fingers pressed your clit.

Choking on a moan, your body trembled as you violently came on Bucky’s cock, your fingers scratching at his right arm as you rode out your orgasm wave after wave.

“God, so fucking tight. Can I cum inside you, baby?” Bucky moaned and pressed an open-mouthed kiss on your jaw, sucking the skin just beneath your ear.

You nod enthusiastically, humming in approval as you moved your hips to match Bucky’s brutal thrusts.

“Gonna cum, baby. Fuck!”

Warm ropes of Bucky’s release filled you up, his hips continuing to thrust into you as he let your pulsating cunt milk his cock dry. Bucky fell forward, supporting his weight with his hands on the countertop to prevent his huge body from crushing you.

Bucky pressed a kiss on the back of your head as he let go of your neck, pulling his softening member out of your pussy and tucking it back into his jeans.

He rubbed your back and allowed you to catch your breath, taking your rest as a chance to look down at your pussy as his cum seeped out of it. Bucky licked his lips at the sight and used two of his flesh fingers to push back his release into your cunt before lifting your underwear and jeans up.

“Am I dead?” You asked when Bucky spun you around again.

He chuckled and kissed you, fixing your bra and clasping it back on. Bucky wrapped his jacket around your body, apologizing for ripping your shirt apart.

“You back, baby?” Bucky asked as he moved your hair away from your face.

You looked spent and well-fucked. He could see the mark that his watch left on your chest and felt bad because it obviously caused you pain.

“Sorry for this...” he mumbled as his fingers reluctantly traced the mark.

You let out a breathy laugh, “It’s okay. I like it.” You admitted, reaching out to hold Bucky’s right arm.

“I like this too.” You said, letting a finger trace the prominent vein on his arm.

Sliding your finger upwards, you reached the sleeve of Bucky’s shirt and tug at it. “And this one as well.” You smirked.

Bucky nuzzled your nose with his, “I guessed what’s on your mind correctly, didn’t I?” He asked with a grin.

You’d almost forgotten about the little game from earlier. Truth to be told, you sort of forgot everything that took place before Bucky fucked your brains out.

“You didn’t just guess it, you actually showed it.” You said with a chuckle.

“Yeah well, it wasn’t that hard to figure out when you’ve been shamelessly eye-fucking me since I took off my jacket.” Bucky gloated teasingly.

You groaned in embarrassment, “That obvious, huh?”

“Yup and you know what? I think I’d like it too if I saw you wearing my shirt. Just my shirt.”

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr @asemistablehundredyearoldman @reidbuck @lizzarooni @girlfriday007 @5-seconds-of-mendes @whoth3hellisbucky @bonkywobble @lost-in-the-stars03

#bbbwrites #oneshots: bucky barnes #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky smut #bucky #sebastian stan

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hotwings0203 · 3 years

Note

now we need a part 4 with izuku and bakugo on what happens next to the poor reader 😩✋🏼

Aight imma do a two for one here so MASSIVE BET

Tw:noncon, gangbang

When your hand reaches the doorknob, you know something is off only half a millisecond before another large hand settles itself on your wrist and another one caressing your side.

You freeze immediately at the voices that croon and snarl to you.

“Open the door quietly and we don’t have to make this any more difficult than it’s already gonna be.”

“God, you smell so good. You still haven’t changed your shampoo even after all these weeks huh? I like it.”

Your hand starts to shake and your body starts to sweat as you wildly try to find a way out of this situation. The voices sound eerily familiar, with one being higher and the other more aggressive and raspy, but you don’t dare turn around to locate the faces.

One of them seems to be catching onto your hesitation, because your wrist is crushed underneath a hard grasp and you cry out softly as they growl.

“Open. This. Fucking. Door. Right now.”

It takes a good 15 more seconds to jimmy the lock open, and once you do all three of you go tumbling in.

You whip back around to see both men standing over you, merely watching you with crossed arms and equally perverse leers.

“D-deku? Bakugo? What’s going on?”

Deku practically bounces on the balls of his feet, itching with inappropriate anticipation for what’s to come.

“We wanted to play with you! Are you ready? You can’t fucking ignore me anymore!” His voice is cheery as always but it breaks when he curses, the strains in his vocal cords sticking out while he forces himself from holding back.

Bakugo steps forward.

“Didnt I tell you I was gonna come again for you, you teasing cunt? Didn’t I say to watch your back? Now look at you, sprawled on the floor like rapetoys should be.”

Both men start slowly uncrossing their arms and advance towards you.

“No-no please, why? I didn’t do anything to you! Deku, please!” You blubber as you scuttle backwards, their strides equally as long.

You continue evading them as they play around with you.

“Oh, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words. ‘Deku, please.’ Although, I’d very much rather you moan it for me.” He has the audacity to blush, and then Bakugo interjects.

“You deserve this y’know, so don’t start crying now. We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet.” He spreads his hands and his uncharacteristic grin stretches from ear to ear, his vermillion eyes flashing in the dim light of your dorm.

“Anyone whose stupid enough to not realize how this creep has been sniffin’ your panties for months-hell, maybe even years now should get raped. You’re so fucking stupid, you didn’t realize I was protecting you from him.”

“But now look at you. Alone, afraid, vulnerable…oh, and going to the bedroom. You really are an easy slut, huh?”

Deku’s eyes light up when he realizes you truly are unknowingly backing up into the bedroom, but you realize it too late.

It’s only after Bakugo’s words come out that you try to look for a detour for the lock-induced bathroom, but Deku has a different idea.

Out of pure excitement he laughs and sprints towards you, hands outreached to touch your pretty skin, mouth open with drool softly filling the tile below him and eyes bloodshot with lust.

He looks like a creature from hell, and in the pure terror of watching him come at you like that your plan to detour was thwarted and you mindlessly trip back over your feet onto the bed, scrambling as far away as you can from them to the headboard.

You look to your left and quickly seize your bedside lamp, raising it above your head.

“Domt come any closer you closer perv. God, I shouldve known you were fucked in the head. I kept trying to make excuses for you, I thought you were my friend-“ you break down in sobs as the green haired man continues looking at you like you’re a piece of meat, absentmindedly wiping his hand across his mouth.

“And you,” you point to Bakugo who bares his teeth and smirks madly, “I already knew you were the embodiment of hell, but I thought you had a limit of how low you could stoop. You didn’t protect me from shit, you forced your way inside of me day in and day out.”

“Well now that your useless little monologue is over, Deku, tie her legs to the posts. I swear Y/N, you’re making this way too easy for me. It’s almost boring, I already know what I’m gonna get.” He raises his eyebrows at you while he lets his minion do all the work for him, goosebumps racing up his arm at the sight of you screaming and fighting tooth and nail against your fate.

But at the end of the day, after all your curses and sobs and monologues, you’re no match for either of them, especially Deku, who cooes at you to scream louder while he caresses your face and uses nylon string to secure your wrists to the wooden posts. Your legs are also bound after Bakugo seizes them from kicking, and a gag is placed over your mouth by his hands.

He roughly taps the tape covering your trembling lips and smiles condescendingly down at you.

“You’re doing so well for us, rapemeat. Keep up the good work and try to spread those legs as much as you can.” He chuckles when you scream your lungs out, thrashing as he yanks your knees apart.

“Aw, Kacchan, can’t we take the gag off? I wanted to hear her in my ears,” he pouts and looks glumly at your writhing figure.

“No, how fucked in the head are you? Someones gonna come down if she’s hollering for the whole building to hear. And cut her clothes off, I’m getting impatient.”

It seems like Deku too was at his last fiber of self control as his hands shake equally as much as yours, except for an entirely different reason altogether, the opposite reason of yours in fact.

He fishes in his back pockets for something, and produces a glinting steel knife with a black handle.

You still immediately as his descends his hands to the top of your v-neck shirt, right above your collarbones. His eyes fog up as your satiny smooth skin comes in contact with the blade, the coldness of the steel sending shivers down your spine and making you sob harder.

“Kacchan…did you ever get a taste of her blood? How does she taste?” He lifts his head to look into your tear-streaked eyes, but he addresses his childhood friend.

Bakugo snorts. “Calm down Toga, don’t get too crazy yet. We’ll have some more fun later, right now my dick is about to explode. ‘Need a hole,” he mumbles at the end and finally clambers onto the bed right atop your legs.

You stay absolutely silent as pressure from the knife rips the thin strands of your clothes apart, and Deku takes careful care to ensure you at least have thin red lines running down your stomach if not for actual blood.

“Oh fuckkkk,just look at her. You look good enough to eat…” he looks at you and licks his lips, salivating when you whine and twist at your restraints.

“Yeah yeah, you do whatever the fuck you want. Just choose what you’re gonna stick it in and hurry up.”

The blond looks bored almost as the more eager one whips to the side to face him.

“You mean it Kacchan? I can pick?”

They speak as if you’re not alive, no feelings or humanity involved. All you can do is watch and yell into your makeshift gag as the blond waves him off.

“Go for it. It’s your first time satisfying that sick head of yours, ‘must get boring doing it from behind a screen all the time.”

His slowly turns to face you, a kind leer etched across his features, eyebrows slanted and hand coming up to pull your ripped clothes apart.

You struggle and spit muffled profanities out as he slowly drags the bridge of your bra down, eyes wide open as your nipples pop out and eventually both of your tits bounce out.

He hisses and takes his nails up your stomach to fondle your breast. You can tell Deku’s too excited, too inexperienced from the way he handles them like stress balls. You grunt as his mouth latches onto a pert nipple, suckling and looking up at you as if he were some kind of demonic baby.

Bakugo watches all this with a dark glint in his eyes, absentmindedly palming himself as he watches the show unfold in front of him.

It’s entertaining seeing all of the creep’s hormones spiral out of control from years of pent-up lust. He’s never seen the dork so fired up and hungry, he’s never seen him so brutal with a civilian before, the type of people he used to say he’d protect at all costs.

After he’s done playing with your sore tits, he wasted no time in yanking your sweats off. You don’t even trash around anymore, the only thing you’re capable of in this state of terror and shock is weak moans and little sobs, maybe a writhe or two here and there.

Your panties are also torn off and you howl when the elastic cuts into your skin within the process. Bakugo takes this last stripping as an indication for him to move now. He lifts himself up on his knees and moves around your head while Deku situates himself between your violently twitching legs.

“I’m gonna take the gag out now. If you scream or pull any funny business I’ll plug your pussy and your throat with this knife, got it?” He snatches the weapon from the bed and waves it dangerously close to your face.

You nod frantically and try to turn your head to the side, but he yanks you back into place and decides to have his own fun.

While Izuku hurriedly takes his own shorts off the hothead slowly takes the tape off your mouth, staring down at you with unblinking eyes. The knife which you’re so afraid of is traced around your own squeezed shut eyes, down your cheeks and around your lips.

But the horrified trance on which he keeps you in is broken when Izuku suddenly shoved his entire length inside your dry cavern.

Luckily Bakugo has enough foresight to slam a hand over your howling mouth before the entire building can be woken up, and he glares at the sheepish-looking man down the bed from him.

“Are you a fucking virgin? At least rub her clit or something so she doesn’t go hollering at every thrust you damn nerd!”

The man between your legs winces and rubs the back of his neck, chuckling nervously.

“Oops, sorry, got a little carried away there.”

He doesn’t pull out, he merely thrusts slower, trying to fit his fat dick inside your unwilling cunt.

A string of curses leaves your lips and you grimace as the pain becomes near blinding.

Bakugo looks down at you again, the knife forgotten.

“No teeth either.” Your breaths come out in little frantic pants when his bare cock springs out of his own pants.

He taps the leaking purple tip on your lips and you open hesitantly. There’s no point in resisting anymore, they’ve got you quite literally cornered.

“Wider, slut,” he snarls, and you do-but only because Deku’s paps get more aggressive, causing your mouth to fall open in a long whine.

The blond takes this opportunity to slam his length down your throat, groaning around when he sees your throat swell with his bulge.

You immediately start gagging and trying to pull at your restraints for air, his heavy balls rest right on top of your nose and you feel like you’re going to pass out.

You can barely hear him over Deku’s animalistic grunts and whines. He’s going way too fast, as if he’s possessed by your pussy. It numbs you, taking away some of the pain in a flip side.

But on the other end of your body, you’re desperate for air while a fuzzy ballsack paps against your nose and eyes.

Each sadistic stroke he puts inside of you widens your sore esophagus, bringing bile up sometimes and large amounts of saliva too.

He’s not as loud as Deku, but he’s equally as greedy with your holes.

Your body literally hovers up almost in midair as Bakugo thrusts in and lifts his hips up, taking your upper half along with it and Deku does the same unconsciously, trying to fuck up into your womb.

It’s an exact replica of a perverted spit roast, with both of them catching each other’s rhythm and slamming inside your holes at the same time.

Your clit is suddenly rubbed inexpertly to the point of overstimulation, and the incoming sob forced out of your throat warps into a pained scream.

The vibrations of your scream makes Bakugo cum suddenly with a hoarse groan. He doubled over your body and gnaws at your bouncing tits, licking and teething at them the same way his counterpart did.

The sight of copious amounts of cum being leaked out of your filled mouth propels the green-haired man to whimper and shove himself back in one more time, hitting your cervix and causing both his and your eyes to roll back.

He cums too, but both men keep their semi-hard cocks inside of your aching body.

You don’t know what’s worse, having both of them by your side or both of them inside.

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wh0re-4-techno · 3 years

Text

9. Finally ((PROFESSOR TECHNO))

THIS CHAPTER HAS SMUT! IF YOU'RE NOT INTO THAT, DON'T FUCKEN READ THIS. OKAY.

Description: It's Friday night, your first date night with Techno. One thing leads to another and you end up waking up in his bed in the morning.

Warning(s): SMUTTTTTTT, public teasing, choking, slight slapping, spanking, fingering, penetration.

Words: 5672

Last part :: Next Part

Friday

Today was Friday... And your first dinner date with Techno.

The entire time you were in classes you were freaking out, anxiety filled your whole body. A simple text telling you,

T to Y/n:

Picking you up at 6pm

You couldn't sit still, just imagining him in a fancy outfit and taking you out. You've been on a date with him before, but this was an actual date with him, dinner and everything.

As you sat in your chair, putting your makeup on, Minx sits on your twin size bed. Scrolling down on her phone, but ever so often she would glance over at you.

"So who are you going on a date with?" She already knew you were going on a date without asking, how you dressed in that black short dress and how nervous you were. She still asks bluntly, out of the blue for you. Stopping you mid-way putting your mascara on. Even though you were pretty sure your makeup was going to ruin by the end of tonight. You blink at her question, "Say that again?" You turn to your side to face her. "Don't act like you didn't hear me." She squints her eyes at you, she was still somewhat pissed that you still won't tell her who you were with yesterday. And now you were on your way on a date, most likely with the same person. "I'm not going to tell you Minx, stop asking." Turning back to your small mirror to continue your makeup.

She grunts at you, "Why can't you tell me it's Karl? I already know it's him." You put down your mascara. "And how do you know that Judge Minx?" You ask, it was clear that you didn't want to talk about it with her, but of course Minx could tell and loved how easily she could work you up. "Karl told Alex, who told me that you were with him at some book store yesterday." She explains, within each word your eyes widened.

FUCKEN KARL.

"Did he mention anyone else?" Worried, what if Karl said you were with someone else. He could actually exposed the both of you.

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

"No he didn't, why?" She arches her eyebrows to your question. "No reason." You rush out, no reason for her to suspect you.

A small smirk starts to form on your lips, slowly looking back at your best friend. "Wait. You're still talking to Alex?" You try your hardest to make Minx forget or simply stop her from talking about your date. Seeing the shade of pink starting to rise on her cheeks, you could tell you can tease her about this. "Don't change the subject Y/l/n!" She wasn't going to let you off so easily.

You finish your makeup with a signature red lipstick.

Reaching down to put on a simple necklace with faux diamond earrings. Turning towards you mirror that hung on your dresser door, looking at yourself. You could tell you were smokin' hot, but would he like it? The next best option was to ask your roomy.

"Whatcha think?" You spin back to her on your heels, she's still on your bed, but now laying down on her back. Which she rolls herself over and faces you. "Holy shit-'' She mutters, loud enough for you to hear her. She starts to sit up, "You look stupid hot Y/l/n! He's gonna eat’cha up!" You could feel your cheeks heating up from her complements. "Karl's gonna love this-" You finally cut her off, "It's not Karl!" You huff out, she stares for a couple of seconds, just thinking.

It was hard enough to lie about where you were going at lunch and now this, but you had enough. You obviously couldn't say it was your Professor, but that doesn't mean you have to it was Karl. You just need to make up some random name that she nor any of your other friends could remember. "What- Who is it then?" Waiting for you to respond, walking up to her. "I'll tell you everything about him later tonight, I promise." You reach out for her to give you a hug as a goodbye.

She hugs you back, "Be safe, if he tries anything I will kill him." She says in a serious tone, which she would most likely hurt him, but not kill him. And the hurting would probably come from Schlatt. You chuckle at her and pull away. "I want to hear everything about this mystery date! You hear me!" She points out to you, you chuckle at her. "Love you Minx." You start heading to the dorm door, grabbing your keys and wallet. "Love you too!" Both of you smile at each other.

Heading down the stairs and making your way out of the house-ing building.

You stand by the parking lot, the cold weather starts to breeze as the sun starts to set, leaving a shiver down your spine. You should have grabbed a sweater on your way out. But as you think, his car is already pulling up towards you.

The car was completely glossy black, the sunset shining on it perfectly.

He steps out of his car, as he starts to walk towards you, you see his whole outfit. You couldn't and wouldn't keep your eyes off of him, starting at his head. His soft curls perfectly taken care of, a clean shaven face, he wore a crisp black suit with a matching bowtie. As your eyes lower down to his shoes, they were faux leather black loafers. He looked so fine.

He lets you check him out, at the same moments his eyes are all over you. Stepping closer to each other. "What are you wearing?" He ask wide eyed. In shock that you actually showed up in that. "What?" You act confused on what he meant, you loved how he stared at your body like a meal he was ready to devour. "What are you wearing?" He growls in a deep tone, clenching his hands into a fit. Almost ready to tear off your lil outfit. How it hugged you in the right place, it was taking him great strength to not just take you to his house right away, but you two have dinner first.

Even though it was going to be hard to resist.

He kisses you, rather quickly then desired. "Com'on darling, we got a reservation." He says, walking you to the car. Now that you think of it, he didn't even tell you what place he was taking you too.

-----

He gets out the door first, telling you to stay seated, but it's clear when he opens your door. Holding out a hand for you to take.

You grab onto his hand and step out of his car, your heels clicking with each step. Looking over at the entrance, it was so fancy. More luxurious than anything, "So what do you think?" He gestures about the restaurant, as you admire it. "I would have been fine going to a burger joint." You whisper with a giggle, he glance down at you. "Good to know." He says matter of factly.

Walking past the front tall door was a small desk, a very well dressed gentleman stood behind it. Your eyes immediately scan the entire place, looking left to right. Seeing all the small tables with a white sheets covering them, a bouquet of flowers in the middle. All of them had only two chairs.

The lighting was dim, to set the mood as romantic as you could get.

In the back was a massive bar, the shells that held the liquor lining the whole wall up. Impossible to actually reach the drinks, more as a way to decorate and show off the alcohol.

But Techno's words pulled you back, "Reservation for Mr and Mrs. Blade." He says with ease, your lips parting slightly. Did you hear what he said? Or were you making it up in your head? You stare up at him with amazement in your eyes. "Special occasion? Anniversary of some sort?" The gentleman turned to you, grabbing two menus for both of you. Techno, for a second looks down at you, a playful smirk on his face. "Indeed." He looks back at the man, who is leading both of you to your table.

You squeeze his hand, trying to get his attention. But he doesn't bat an eye for you, continuing to follow the man. How could he just skimp through that and not make you want to get all over him.

The gentleman sits you down at a table, close by the bar, but not too close that drunks will be wandering by. Techno pulls out your chair before going to his.

"One of our waiters will come get you started soon, enjoy your evening." The gentleman says, quickly walking back to his table.

Sitting down in the chair you look at him, he's looking down at the menu, undoubtedly ignoring you for fun. You were done at this point, "Mrs. Blade huh?" He nods to your question, now that you know he's listening to you, you tell him. "I like the sound of that." It was shortly said, but you pick up the menu and place it upright, covering your face. Unsure how he would react to your statement.

"Oh yeah?" He asks, his eyebrow going up with a smirk. You look to the side of your menu. Dropping it down, you smile at him. "Y/n Blade, it has a nice ring to it." He winks at you, making you blush on the spot.

He looks back to the menu, "Have any idea what you want darling?" His eyes down the list of food. "If only you were on this menu." His eyes shoot open, so bluntly you tell him with slight amusement in your voice. Seeing how he reacted to your bluntness. He slowly looks up at you, "I could say the same thing about you." His voice drops to a deep harsh tone. It was only a few minutes into this date and you could feel a puddle forming in your panties.

Suddenly you feel one of his shoes tapping your heel, glancing from your menu back to him. He didn't seem to notice or didn't seem to bother him.

A lady, a couple of years older than you comes up to your table. "Hi, what could I get you two started with? Drink wise." She asks politely with a smile. Both of you turn to her. "Hello, I would love a white wine." He speaks first, you were still looking through the drinks. "Sweet or dry Sir?" She asks, ready to write what he orders. "Sweet, riesling ice wine please." She nods to him, "Great choice Sir." She taps her pen to him, she turns her attention to you now. Waiting for you to tell her your drink choice. "I'll have the same." She nods again while writing, "Perfect, I'll come back in a second with the drinks and give you another second to think about meals." And she was off, walking to her next table.

"You're into sweet wine?" You ask him, he looked more like a dry wine person and wouldn't shut up about his knowledge about it. "I'm more of a fan of sweets, but dry is still good." He's back looking at you. He leans into the table, gesturing to you to also lean in with his index finger. "You're over 21?" He whispers in your ear, you were a little shocked that he didn't know actually, but you didn't know his actual age as well.

You pull away and sit back down. "Yes I'm 21 Mr. Blade, how old are you?" You were more curious than it being a deal breaker for you. You were into an older man anyways. The fact the two of you still didn't know each other's age is a little strange. "I'm 32." He simply says.

Your eyes widen, "You're 32!" You raise your voice ever so much. Quickly you hush yourself before drawing people attention. "Yes." He says again, chuckling at how much you were surprised at that. "You look 26. That's why I was curious why you were so young to be a Professor. And you have to tell me how you look that young." You tell him, the last part you make it a little dramatic. He's intrigued that you thought he was 6 years younger then he actually was, it was very flattering to say the least. But as he thought for a second of what you said, "Hey I'm still young to be a Professor, I'm not old." He places his hand over his chest, pretending to be deeply hurt by your words.

You roll your eyes at him, "That's not what I meant." You scoff at him playfully, "It's an 11 years difference, you don't mind that?" He asks. Slightly concerned that it would weird you out, but that would never be the issue. "I don't care about that Techno." You give him a smile, placing your hands out on the table.

He grabs your hand, his finger dancing on top of yours. The two of you sit and stare at each other. Simply listening to the buzz of the customers in the restaurant. His brown eyes glimpsing with shine, you could sit for hours on end staring at him and every little detail. To how his eyebrows furrow when a spoon inevitably drops on the floor or hearing the clink of glasses in celebration. How he smiles a tad bit more when you rub your thumb across his hand as well.

The smell of divine gourmet meals along with wine and experience liquor fill the air.

His foot distracts you again as you could feel his faux leather shoe slowly going up your leg. You slightly squint at him, questioning what his attentions were, but you don't get an answer just yet. His elbow props up to the table, he inches closer to the table while doing so. Resting his head inside his plan, admiring every second of you.

Going up every so slightly, just by how long his legs were it didn't seem like he was doing anything under the table. Plus the white sheet covered the table almost reaching the floor. Then it is clear on what he was doing when you.

As the tip of his toe cap pressed firmly in-between your thighs.

You rush to close your legs, he gives you a stern look, squeezing your hand. It was a given that he didn't want you to do so. But it was hard for you not to squirm your thighs as he pushed further on your panties.

And of course, your waitress had to come up to the both of you. Handing you and Techno the wine you order, perfect fucken timing. Techno lifts his hand that held his head to grab his drink, you simply put it down on the table. Ready to order your food.

Glaring at Techno to stop his antics, but he could play with you for hours if he pleases. "So what are we going to eat for tonight?" She glances at the both of you, not suspecting anything.

Techno takes a sip of the wine, letting you order first. "Could I get-" You cough out, hiding away a possible moan as he pressed down on your clothed clit. He moves up and down slowly. The waitress lets you cough for another moment, you continue, or try to continue your order. "Y/f/m please?" You ask her, you couldn't help but closing your thighs together. She writes in her notepad and switches to Techno, he quickly orders it with no interruptions.

"Alrightty, I'll be back soon." She quickly walks off.

He lightly wiggles his leg, unlocking your thighs once again. You breathe out a shutter breath. "Techno I was trying to order food." You whisper yell at him, reaching for your wine. He fucken knew you were, but that was the fun of it, watching you stutter out your order to the completely oblivious waitress. "Yes, what's the issue?" He asks, "Don't act coy with me." You take a sip of the wine, not your favorite, but it's not bad.

"You don't like it?" He says, taking a swig of his drink, his eyes look over the cup to you. It was obvious by the way you scrunched up your nose while drinking it. "I like aspects of." You refer to the wine, "Noted." He winks to you. He flicks his foot up, hitting you in the perfect spot. You hold the wine glass with a shaky hand, placing down to ground yourself. You muffle your moan by biting on your bottom lip.

Ever so much you start rocking yourself towards him, a slick smirk curving into his lip. Seeing that you were already giving into him. "You like that, don't you angel" He growls in a low whisper. This new pet name throws you into a loop, your hand bunching up the table cloth to steady yourself. How the word slipped past his lips with such care. Practically making you melt.

Nodding to him, almost scared if you were to open your lips to talk a moan would fly out. "So needy already? We've only been here for-" He shuffles his sleeve with a quick wip, revealing a watch. "Bout' 30 minutes darling." You squeeze his hand.

The Lady comes back once again, this time around Techno finally pulls his leg away from you, missing the sensation.

She hands you your meals, time to dig in.

-----

He paid for the check, both of you hand n' hand walking through the front doors.

Waiting for his car to be pulled up. You lean on his arm. "I would love a tour around your house." You look up at him, innocence glimpsing in your eyes, toying with him. "Really..." He says, thinking of each word you said. Finally looking back down at you. Seeing you pouting your lips. It was crystal clear of what your motive was. In a whisper, lining himself to your ear "Just you fuckin wait till we get home angel." Grinding down his teeth, his low tone inside your ear. It made your legs weak.

But the other reason that made you soft was referring to home. Not to 'his' home. Almost, it felt as if he was talking about our home. Lost in the moment, you didn't even see that his car was ready.

"Let's go." He grabs your hand in a rush making your way to his car.

-----

It was already dark when you made it to his house, which was only 20 minutes away from the campus.

You couldn't really see in the dark, but decided to complement, "Nice house." You say as you step up his walkway. "Thanks darling." He grabs his keys from his pockets, rushing to unlock his front door.

Letting you in with a pull, closing the door with your back as he pushes you up. His lips smashing into you, with a gasp at the sudden movement gave him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in. You could taste the wine on his tongue.

His hand holding onto your waist, lifting your dress up in the meanwhile. Your fingers locking into his hair, pulling him further down to you.

You start lifting your leg up his pants, hooking yourself to him. Feeling Techno push himself toward you, grinding softly. His finger grip down on your inner thigh, a tingle shooting up your body with excitement. He could tell by how you start to squirm as his hand gradually makes it up to the hem of your dress. Bunching it up, his hand does a long stride down your panties. Feeling the small patch of dampness. Hearing your pathetic whimper.

His finger loops around your panties, pulling them down with a quick swift. "Let's get to my room." He says quietly, slightly out of breath. You simply nod at him. You shake your ankles, letting your panties drop on his hard wooden flooring.

He pulls away, pinching your dress and tugging you through his house. Knocking off his shoes while walking, you follow and do the same. Into his main living room, it's pretty plain with a modern look. We passed his kitchen on the way to his bedroom. "So this is my house." He tries to mumble out in-between kisses. "I don't care." You say it the moment, maybe tomorrow you could take a stroll around, but now you just wanted to get into his bedroom. "Fantastic, neither do I." He chuckles while quickly opening the door.

It was fairly big room, but was fitting for him. His sheets were a stain red color, slightly shining with the moon light that peeked through the windows that lined the wall.

You didn't have enough to look at his whole room nor did you want to in the moment. He pushes you back into the bed, hard. Bouncing slight, you giggle while propping yourself on your elbows. Having your own little show of him starting to undress, taking off his suit coat and unbuttoning his shirt.

Without a doubt you were enjoying this, watching as a tent began to grow in his pants.

Techno comes to the edge of the bed, glaring down at you, hair slightly messed up and makeup already snugged. Leaning down with his hands on the sheets, he hovers over you. Eyes shifting to the dress, that you were still wearing. But that wasn't going to be a problem in a few moments.

His large hands grabbed at your fabric and pulled it off of you, hearing a signature rip while doing so. In slight disbelief that it actually ripped you stare up at him, which he didn't seem to mind. "Hey I paid good money for that." You part your lips, eyebrow furrowed.

Techno on the other hand is climbing on the bed, inches away from your lips. "I'll get you a new dress. I'll buy you 10 fucken dresses if you want." He lowed himself, nesting himself between your legs. Placing small kisses up your neck, sucking over the same spots from yesterday. He wasn't ashamed of giving you those dark bruises that would show everyone how much you wanted him, willing to bruise you up for his own pleasure. The pleasure he would have being able to see you in class with hickeys scattered across your neck. Able to remember back to this. Your hand wanders his shoulders, nails racking down his perfectly carved chest.

He stops for a second, "Okay so, I don't- This is uncomfortable to ask..." You look up at him in confusion. As little as two seconds ago he was just marking you up. "Are you a virgin?" He cringes at his own question, it was awkward to say the least. But he never wants you to feel uncomfortable with anything.

But you put on a crooked smile to try to comfort him, "I've had sex before Techno, I trust you." Kissing him sweetly. The kiss turned more heated by the moment, both craving for each other after all the afternoon makeout sessions in his office, both of you need this badly.

His left hand moving from the bed to your hot body, snaking down past your waist to your inner thighs. But he quickly moved back up to his pants, he rushed to remove his belt.

You were there to assist him, reaching to his pants to unzip them, tugging down at them. At this point his belt is off and on the ground unknown, pulling off his pants on the ground to be found in the early morning along with the trail of your shoes and panties.

His lips leaving yours and trailing back down to your neck. He went over some sport as before each one making you moan. But he went lower, as he arrived in-between your boobs. He placed soft kisses on both sides.

His head shifting down your neck to your collarbone. Still leaving dark circles along the way to your breast. Looking at them with admiration. His lips making their way to one of your nipples, you let out an airy moan as the sensation took over. He slightly bites, pulling up with a spring. Giving your other the same love and attention.

While being distracted, Techno pulls away his boxer, still kissing your nipple. It stung out painfully.

From the angle where you laid on his pillows you could see it throb. He hissed as you wrap your delicate fingers around his cock. Groaning as your thumb swiped over his tip, he stopped his actions and rested his head in-between your breast. Your hand pumping up and down slowly, teasing him. Spreading the pre-cum that dropped out. Running your hand down you feel veins bulging out.

He pulled away your hand. He looks up at you with half lidded eyes, his eyes dark with lust.

Lifting his free hand, he moves it towards your face. His fingers separating past your lips, shoving them in your mouth. You slowly start to suck, but as you lap tongue around them, he pulls them out. A little confused as to why, but that question was about to be answered. He lowers his hand down to your crotch, slipping both his index and middle finger into your cunt with ease, your own saliva as lube.

Cletching your thighs together as you throw your head back into his pillows. Whimpering while bucking your hips up at his hands.

A devilish smirk broadened on his face.

Arching your back up curls his fingers, his other hand holding the small part of your back and being you closer toward him. He moved in and out slow at first, but seeing as you were practically falling apart to just this his began to speed it up.

He held you close, moans flying freely without a care that anyone would walk in. Kissing you with open mouth kisses, whimpering as he continues. "Techno." You moan out, neediness filling your voice, bucking your hips fast at his hand.

"What do you want, baby?" All you could do in that moment was moan as his voice was deep and sweet like candy to your ears. "Tell me what you want, with your words." He peppers light kisses along your neck, making you hum with delight. "Do anything, I want you." You mew, staring up at him. He groans at your word, taking affect, he would never be able to get those words out of his head. "Baby, I'll hold you down and spit in your pretty little mouth if you wanted." Loudly you moan, feeling a familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach.

His thumb toying with your clit in a circular motion. "No, I want you." You emphasize on the "you" part, begging for him. "Anything you want angel." He kisses you once again, short and sweet.

Taking out his fingers, licking them dry from your own wetness. With a slight pop when he's done.

He reaches to the side towards his night stand, stopping him with your hand. "I'm just getting a condom darling-" He tells you, "I'm on birth control." Cutting him off, you were fed up at this point. "Just fuck me." The teasing at the restaurant to now was enough for you, just wanting and needing for him. Pulling him back on top of you, feeling his dick on your thigh.

He pumps himself a couple of times, mentally taking a photo of you in this state.

His tip running up and down your slit, slowly pushing in your cunt. Stretching you out at the same pace. Giving you a few moments to adjust. "Tell me if you need to stop at any point." He peppers kisses on you, trying to distract from the stinging. You've only had sex once, a year ago at a stupid college party where you took a shot to lessen the pain. But Techno was bigger in length and girth.

But pain subsided and pleasure began to take over and conquer. Slightly grinding up at him, telling him to start moving. He did so, slowly pulling almost out and right back in.

Moaning with each meet, your finger digging into his back muscles, leaving red line marks behind. Your legs wrapping around his waist, your heels pushing him further down. One of his hands moves from your waist, running up your body. Making a stop at your breast. Moaning at his play, his had travel to your neck. His hands gripping onto your throat, "God, you feel so good." He groans, slamming his hips with a slap.

Another open mouth kisses muffle you out, Techno swallowing your moans.

His pace quickening within the seconds. There wasn't another way to express or being able to say anything but cursing out, "Fuck." As he continues, but slows down. It wasn't what you where aiming for, but he hands grips harder on your throat. Making it almost impossible for you to make a pep. Half lidded eyes borrow you, he growls, "Watch your mouth." Before slapping your cheek, a stinging sensation distracts you as he begins to flip you over.

Your face laying down on his sheets, your ass hanging high. The bedding smelling of him.

Pulling out he kisses your cheek, slapping each one harshly. His tongue taking a long strip down, licking your clit in the meanwhile. Sucking the ball of nerves, you groan out his name, bunching up his sheets with your hand.

Pushing himself back into your cunt, your face getting shoved down. "Your so fucken tight, I might need you fuck you everyday." Throwing his head back. Whining at the thought of him doing this every morning, afternoon, or night.

The sound of rushed slapping surrounded the bedroom. Along with your high pitched sobs.

He slaps your ass cheek again, leaving a red mark and a sting of pain. Soothing you as he rubs you in the same place. Doing the same to the other cheek, squeezing out a loud moan, a tear sliding down your cheek. Meeting the bed. He keeps at the smacking, each one you retract but inevitably coming back with wanting more of the pain.

Flash raw at the consent spanking, ass red with a printer. Definitely going to be difficult to sit down the next day.

He bends down, pushing himself as deep as he could. Sobbing at it, his finger grab a hold of your neck once again. Trying to moan, but making no sound. He pulls you by the throat, bring you up right. Back flushed up against him. Feeling your ass meet at the base of his cock, pounding rather quickly. It was taking you incredible will power to keep it all together.

Parting your lips, moaning pornographically, like you knew no other words in the dictionary. Lost in ecstasy, putting your head back in-between his shoulder and neck. Your mouth close to his ear. Hearing each little whine and moan

His hand holds onto your stomach, pushing you closer to him. No room for you to do anything else but take his pounding. That warmth building gradually, almost about to bust, slowly falling apart bit by bit.

His pace never stopping, he can tell you were close, how you cunt was squeezing his cock. Cursing out as you see about to cum. Eye rolling back into you head. Your body shaking as the climax takes control of you. Squirming, as you cum around him. Feeling the fluttering of your walls. You scream out his name as you came

He was getting closer to cumming. You huff out, but he wasn't going to let you catch your breath so easily. Feeling your cunt squeezing firmly against him was getting to him.

He holds your hips in desperation, his hand still gripping your throat, your moaning out as the over simulation was starting to hit you.

His dick was beginning to twitch, making him slower his own rhythm. He groans as he was about to cum. His sperm shooting out, covering your walls. "Holy fuck..." Your trying to catch your breath, the heavy air filled with the smell of sex.

Letting go you, you fall forward with a twist to your back. Landing with a huff and a bounce on his pillows, slight sweat covers the sheets.

As you lay, he kneels, watching his cum dripping out your pussy and down your thigh to down your ass.

"You know, you last longer than most guys my age." You say breathing heavily "Really?" He seemed surprised by what you said, still out of breath you could hear his heavy breathing. Heart beating through your chest. "I bet you could last another round too." You face him, he did the same. How you said it was simple, like it didn't want to make him grab you by the throat again. "Really?" A smirk growing on his face just of the thoughts of what he could do to you.

Taglist:

@alexandrium @aplaintart @sadassflatass @sugarcoated44 @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @sammyxn @bbnoloves @l-O-ser @elly-isabella @fudrudy

#mcyt #mcyt fic #mcyt fanfiction #technoblade #technoblade x reader #technoblade x reader smut #professor technoblade x reader #professor technoblade x reader smut #professor technoblade #x reader #x reader smut #professor #techno #techno x reader

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arty-shadow-morningstar · 3 years

Text

A Failed Betrothal (4)

Am I doing this right? I mostly do write this when I am between the state of sleep and awareness. Hope you enjoy this.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1) (Part 3)

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PART 4

Marinette came to a dungeon cell with two other prisoners. One of them was awake and he looked vaguely familiar. The other had an ugly red helmet that didn’t help with the headache she had.

“Do you know where we are?” She asked the handsome stranger with beautiful green eyes, her throat a little dry.

Wait. Handsome?

No bad Marinette. Don’t fall for fellow prisoners, no matter how cute he looks. Oh Kwamis, she was already screwed.

He still hadn’t replied. Maybe he didn’t understand French. She tried to ask again in another language before her enhanced hearing picked up the sound of footsteps. She faked unconsciousness. Later, she heard the iron door open. She looked through the tiniest slits of her eyes she could muster while the two held a staring/glaring match. Oh shit, that’s the fame Talia Al Ghul, daughter of Ra’s, head of the League of Shadows, and the boy she was glaring at had some resemblance to her, so he must be her son, Dennis? Daniel? Damon?

"Damian, I hope you know what you should do."

Ohh..Damian. Where had she heard that name before?

"To be forcefully married to that little girl. She is no one special. Why am I getting married to her?"

Ouch, that hurts. Well, Damian, just because I forgot your name does not mean you can call me a little girl. I can also kill you very easily and painfully.

“Well, Jason, you are awake. You can be the best man for the wedding.”

“No. I don’t know what game you are playing but you better release us. B is gonna find us and you will pay. Let the girl go. She is innocent in all of this.” Red Helmet, Jason, is officially not going on her hit list for his atrocious fashion choices. But that red monstrosity still needs to go.

"Ladybug may not seem like it but she possesses great power that my father converted for centuries. Speaking of, she should be awake by now."

Marinette felt her hair being yanked. A little pain was expected but the really sharp claws digging into her scalp was not. Making her cry and tear up.

”I am so sorry, kit.” Plagg whispered in the kwami language, loosening his claws.

"Tch, See, she is more pathetic than I thought. She is not powerful." Damian growled out.

Geez, thanks for the compliment, it’s not like you ever had a tiny cat dig its claws into your scalp out of surprise. (Damian once had a kitten thrown at his head and if he knew about Plagg, he would have been sympathetic.) Marinette started begging for mercy, hoping they would buy the helpless girl out of the suit that is ill-suited for the job she had been chosen for and had no idea on how to escape.

“Like I thought, weak. She is not deserving of the title of my wife.”

Oh kwamis, what did she ever do to have such a picky groom? The more he insults her, the less she wants to be married to him.

"Appearance can be deceiving. Despite her demeanor, she is the current wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous and the Current Guardian. The old Guardian, the old fool had promised her in exchange for his protection."

Great, another reason to stop her mother from killing a senile old man.

"That doesn't mean I want to marry her. She is not worthy of an Al Ghul or a Wayne. Look at her, crying at the slightest feeling of pain."

So that’s where she heard it from. The boy was the son of the daughter of a guy who leads a secret order of assassins and a man that owns a multi-million business. How even did a billionaire meet an assassin, ends up in bed with her and lives? Something to think about for later. She quieted down her sobs, (beat that acting, Rossi) kept her voice low to hatch out a plan with Plagg in the kwami language while the mother-son duo bickered.

“Hey, Plagg before you go, you think I can do that thing, the one which your one of your past holders from Japan can do.”

“You have a lot of potential for destruction but you have not used the ring for a long time yet so I am not sure.”

“I will give it a go anyways. Nothing to lose after all. See you later, Plagg.” Marinette smiled, one that drove fear into the hearts of even the bravest of people. Plagg returned it, already loving the new Guardian before zipping out of the cell to do some scouting. Using the enhanced strength the French superheroine got from prolonged use of the Miraculous, she yanked the chains of the walls and wrapped them around Talia’s neck, cutting off her air supply.

The League of Assassins thought that they could kidnap her and get away with it. But they were no match for the daughter of Sabine Cheng, the deadly Blue Reaper. A high ranking member from the group of assassins and mercenaries called the Guild of Night, who had semi-retired. Kidnapping her was a bad move to make as it meant they had declared war on the Guild, despite the reason behind her abduction having a completely different intention.

She whispered as such to the older woman in her tight grip, making sure the League would know how much they had fucked up. After dropping the limp body, she took a deep breath and tried channeling some of her energy for what she was about to do.

Well, here goes nothing.

She breathed out on the shackles, turning it to rust.

Success!

She introduced herself as Lady and concentrated the energy from before into her hand, forming inky black orbs of destruction in order to free her fellow captives. She felt a little drained from doing magic out of the suit and tried not to show it. Plagg returned, informing her of where the Ra’s and the Pits were. She grinned at the thought of showing old Ra’s who the boss is and made sure he regretted ever messing with her. She explained about Plagg as vaguely as she can, no need to let anyone know about the miraculous than necessary. Sure her plan sounds insane but the boys don’t know who they were with.

She would worry about that curse after she got out of Nanda Parbat. Although she could probably find something in the grimoire to reverse it, she was still an amateur at magic so it was best to have a professional to take care of it. Marinette didn’t want to be with such an asshole, no matter how striking he looks in those regal robes.

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Picking off the League assassins, one by one was easy especially in her transformed state. She hadn’t appraised her suit properly but from what she had seen, it wasn’t like Chat Noir’s leather get-up. She was armoured in vital areas and her colour scheme was mainly black with green accents. There were vials that were probably poisons and pouches which she decided to look at later. She still had a long braid as a tail from her brief stint as Lady Noire and she wondered why her suit was different. While hiding in a niche she found, she called the bakery via the comm in one of her various pouches.

“Hello?”

“Papa, it’s me, Marinette. Do you know where Maman is?”

“She went out of Paris, talking about how this League must pay. I think she is meeting up with several of her old friends. Are you alright, my little blossom? I know you can take care of yourself but I worry.” The relief in Tom’s voice was palpable. However, she was right and the Guild was going to war against the League. Marinette was adored by nearly everyone in the Guild due to her strangely bubbly and cheery personality in the harsh and brutal lifestyle.

“I am fine, Papa. Did Maman use the Horse to leave? And how are my friends?” She knew they might be in a panic after her disappearance.

“I think she did. I didn’t see Kalki when I went to feed the kwamis. Your friends panicked when they found out you were kidnapped. But they are fine now, mostly worried about you. Took care of some akumas and senti monsters by themselves. I think your fencer friend, Kagami, knows more about the League than she lets on.” Of course, she does. Her mother was a member of the Guild before being blinded due to a mission. Kagami and her actually first met during a reunion party of sorts.

“Thank you, Papa. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She hung up and dialed the personal phone number her mother uses that only Marinette and her father knows about. She waited for the call to connect, trying to think of ways to stop her mother from storming into the League’s base of operation.

“Maman, it’s me. I know you want to attack the League right this minute. But I have a better plan. Can you get Tikki’s earrings from Alix? We can use them and the ring to destroy the Lazarus Pits. Make them really angry.” She peeked out of the niche she was hiding in. She had been there for a while and needed to move to gain some grounds.

“Where are you? And are you okay?” Panic and worry filled her usually composed mother’s voice.

“I am somewhere in Nanda Parbat and I am fine. I was nearly married off to Talia’s son but I am not now. I think.” Marinette replied. Better to rip that band-aid off before she showed up with her would-have-been-husband. She jumped out of the niche and looked

“Kalki, Full Gallop. Okay, we will talk about the ‘nearly married’ part later. What was this plan to destroy the Lazarus Pits?” Sabine thought she was already used to Marinette’s brand of craziness that was her normal but apparently, not.

“I am currently on my way there. Plagg said we need Tikki to get rid of them. Since the League pissed me off and by extension you and the rest of the Guild, I thought our first move against them is to destroy the Pits and a trail of bodies. By the way, can you get some cheese for Plagg?” Marinette ran through the halls, knocking out some poor sod with a whack on the head.

Silence. She thought Sabine had hung up when-

“Voyage. Alix, where are you? We need Tikki for one of Marinette’s insane plans. And Marinette, stay safe, sweety, I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

“Bye, Maman. See you there.”

Marinette turned another corner, the last one before the path that leads to the entrance where the Lazarus Pits were. She only managed to find it with Plagg’s voice in her head, whispering directions and Tikki’s luck. Unfortunately, the luck ran out because the entrance had a lot of guards who had spotted her.

Crap.

She hoped her mother would get here soon. Thankfully, being transformed gave her a boost and would help her to hold her ground for a while.

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Damian and Red Hood followed the trail of unconscious bodies and sounds of fights, trying to find Lady. Damian was impressed at the level of her skills to defeat many of the League’s assassins although he could probably do better. They relied on his memory to find the Lazarus Pits which was their best bet to finding her as she claimed to be able to destroy them. If Lady possessed such powers, they must find out whether she is a threat to the world or not. And also break the infernal curse they have.

Red Hood was silent mostly. He made a few jabs about how kick ass his ‘bride’ was and how the current Robin should not let her get away. Damian tried really hard not to just maim his adopted brother and also ignore that little fluttering in his chest that happened every time they saw an unconscious assassin left behind by Lady. The sounds of fighting got louder as they got nearer to the entrance. They turned the final corner to see Lady fighting against the guards who outnumbered her. But she seemed to be doing fine against them. Mostly.

One had slipped through her defenses and nearly stabbed her in the back if it weren’t for Damian grabbing one of Red Hood’s guns and shooting a rubber bullet to the neck. He jumped into the fight, grabbing the fallen assassin’s sword and taking out the knife he got from his mother. Jason joined in too, not going to let the two teens have all the fun.

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“Thanks for the save, Al Ghul but I don’t know why you bothered when me being dead would solve your curse problem.” Lady said as the guards laid around them and they tried to catch their breath.

“It’s Wayne. I go by Wayne these days. Being an Al Ghul is not something I learned to be proud of. And as much as I don’t want this curse, your death is not worth that price.” he replied, “Although, I have to wonder why you would choose to die rather than live.”

She chuckled, “Okay, Wayne, to answer your question. Petty teenage drama makes death much more preferable. On top of that, I have responsibilities that I was practically forced into for doing one little act of kindness.” Her tone was joking but there was a touch of bitterness in it. It made Damian want to find out what caused it. Red Hood looked at her in concern. Lady went down the stairs, ignoring their reactions to her words. They followed her, not wanting to lose sight of her again.

The Lazarus Pits emitted a green glow that lit up the cave and cast strange shadows on the walls. At the edge of the glowing toxic green waters was a woman in dark blue clothing and strangely enough wearing sunglasses. Strapped to her sides were two Dao, ancient Chinese swords. She wore a vindictive expression on her face as she stood staring at the green lake, likely to kill anyone who gets in her way. Damian didn’t recognize the woman as part of the League but taking no chances, he got into a fighting stance and Hood did the same. Lady calmly approached the woman. He reached out to grab her to stop her suicidal nature when she shocked him by speaking to the blue-clad assassin in French,

“Hey, Maman, sorry I am late. I had a little trouble with the guards upstairs. You have Tikki?”

Lady’s mother rushed to hug her, “灵儿 (líng er), I am just glad you are alright. I knew you could handle yourself.”

How the hell did Lady’s mother get to the Lazarus Pits faster than them and snuck past several vigilant guards? Before Damian could question further, a red blur appeared and went to Lady’s face, hugging her cheek. It appeared to be the same size as Plagg but was red, looked like a bug and had a black dot on its forehead.

“Oh, Marinette, you are alright. I was so worried when your mother showed up, saying you were kidnapped and needed my earrings to escape.” Unlike Plagg’s nasally voice, her voice was sweet and shrill.

So, my bride’s name is Marinette. Such a unique name for an intriguing girl.

Wait what?

Wayne, stop thinking such ridiculous notions. That is probably the curse working. Resist against it. He will not be ensnared in the traps of such magic. He hoped that the curse will be reversed before he turns and act like those fools in Grayson’s idiotic shows or Todd’s ‘secret’ romance novels.

“I am fine now. See,” reassured Lady, “We actually need you and Plagg to reverse the Lazarus Pits to what it was before someone made the wish that resulted in them in the first place. Oh, I almost forgot. Plagg, claws in.”

Green light flashed, leaving Lady in her wedding robes (which actually flatter her body. Shit. Think of something else. Drake with a smug superior smile that needs to be wiped off his face. Grayson and his plans for ‘family bonding’) and Plagg to reappear.

“Cheese.” whined the cat-like kwami(?) to which the older woman held out a brown bag that smelled and made Plagg perk up in delight. He proceeded to open the bag, taking out a slice of stinky cheese, muttering about the greatness of camembert.

Todd cleared his throat and asked in English, “Umm...Pixie as much as your reunion is touching. Who’s the new lady?”

“Oh Right, sorry. Well, Red Hood, this is my mother, the Blue Reaper of the Guild of Night. Maman, this is Red Hood and the one next to him is my husband-to-be and Talia’s Spawn, Damian Wayne.”

Lady introduced them, also in English. Damian stilled in fear, recognizing the name. The Blue Reaper nearly became his mother-in-law. She was famous for her efficiency and ruthlessness. And gained her nickname from the blue clothing she often wore as she killed her targets. His eyes also widened at how his grandfather had gone a little too far now by kidnapping the Reaper’s daughter. There were other organizations that could possibly take down the League if it weren’t for the somewhat truce between Ra’s and the other leaders. The Guild was one of them and having the Lazarus Pits to revive their soldiers made the League a little more powerful. But if what the mother-daughter duo were planning succeeded, then the League was going to have one of its most deadly wars in its history and would probably never recover from.

“Tikki, Plagg, you guys ready?” asked Lady.

“Yes, Guardian.” They both replied and emitted a blinding red and green light which Damian shielded his eyes from. When it died down, the Lazarus Pits no longer glowed a toxic green and looked… like normal hot spring water.

“Oh. I wished I could see Ra’s face when he finds out.” Lady laughed. Plagg and Todd joined in.

“Pixie, I am beginning to like you.”

“Voyage. That being said, it’s time to go home, Marinette. Your father must be worried sick about us by now. I hope you boys can find your own way back.” A portal opened up, showing a cozy living room. Damian grabbed Lady’s wrist as she moved towards it.

“Wait, let us come with you. We need to contact someone to get rid of the curse on both of us. And we can also call our father to send us tickets for a ride home wherever you live.”

“Curse? Marinette, you never mentioned a curse in your call.” Blue Reaper said, raising her eyebrow.

“I will explain later. They can come with us and I am pretty sure Ra’s knows that we have escaped by now.” Lady grabbed the two brothers and dragged them through the portal.

She then threw herself onto the couch after releasing her hold on them and the two pocket gods went to comfort her after her ordeal. The Blue Reaper stood where the other portal was and fed a floating tiny gray horse, that must be the same species as Tikki or Plagg, some sugarcubes.

“You boys must be tired but the showers are upstairs and we might have some clothes your size. Dinner will be ready in an hour. You can stay the night if you want. Welcome to Paris.”

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(Part 5)

#damian x marinette #mlb x dc #daminette #maribat #Betrothal AU: take 2 #A Failed Betrothal #assassin marinette #sort of #assassin sabine cheng #definitely #Jason is just here for a ride #marinette is a little petty

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lokissuper · 3 years

Text

Wings| Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Reader wears Daryl’s vest through Alexandria

I walked out of my bedroom, looking for my boyfriend who had left me so early in the morning.

I was aware of how Daryl wasn’t fully adapted to Alexandria yet but I wished he would stay with me a little longer. I mean we finally have a place to settle down, where me and him can actually live in a house together without someone walking in on us.

Seeing as Aaron gave Daryl some parts and the bones of a motorcycle to build, I assumed he would be working on it in the garage.

Walking down the steps into the kitchen I saw a dead rabbit sitting on the counter. Grimacing I ignored it and continued to walk past it, knowing Daryl was the culprit.

I opened the door to the garage seeing the dark haired hunter sitting down on the floor.

“So, are you gonna just leave that rabbit on the counter or are you showing me a new center piece?” I asked.

Daryl jumped turning around seeing me leaning against the wall. He shook his head at me before looking back at the bike.

“Very funny, that’s our dinner.” He spoke still not looking at me.

I walked over to him and sat down, now staring at him. Seeing him all muddy and gross, I had an idea.

I grabbed the tool from his hand which caused him to look me in the eyes. I place the tool on the ground and looked at him before saying,” Why don’t I wash your clothes, Deana gave me some extra stuff for you and I. You might as well shower now because at this pace your not sleeping in bed with me tonight.”

He rolled his eyes at me before nodding. Standing up he took my hand leading me back into the house, up the stairs. He walked into the bathroom stripping out of his clothes then giving them to me.

“I’ll leave some clothes on the bed for you,” I said before walking away, going to go clean the dirty clothes.

I didn’t realize how much Daryl’s clothes needed washed. We had been out on the road so long that I got used to seeing him like that.

I had washed most of his clothes before getting to his leather vest, his most warn article. I had always admired it, seeing Daryl in it reminded me of a guardian angel. It made sense to me because that is how I always saw him and one of the things I love about him.

Looking down at the patched on wings I thought to gently clean it, knowing how special it was. I grabbed a wet rag and dabbed the vest in the dirty spots and also wiped down the leather. Seeing it finally clean again I hung it up to dry, knowing I would come back to it soon.

I finished the rest of his clothes, working especially hard on the stain in his pants. I was so relived when I found out Alexandria had running water and electricity otherwise I would be here for hours.

Looking over at the black vest hung up I felt it making sure it wasn’t still wet. I knew Daryl would want it back soon, so I hurried and turned on the community dryer before grabbing the vest. Looking down at my outfit seeing the white shirt and black jeans, I shrugged before putting on my boyfriends vest.

I left the small room before leaving the main house too. I walked down the street before running into Carol.

“How are you and Daryl doing?” she asked looking me up and down.

I nodded at her,” Just fine. Finally got him to shower and out his clothes, saw the opportunity to wash the smelly things.”

She laughed, knowing how Daryl refused to shower for the longest time when we first got here. She looked at the vest wrapped around me, she glanced into my eyes in shock.

I stared at her blankly before questioning,”What?”

“Nothing. I mean, Daryl must really love you if your wear his wings like that.” She said matter of factly.

I looked down at the ground, “It was just in the laundry, I knew he would want it back soon so I hand washed it. I mean we only started dating 8 months ago, and you know how he is with the L word.”

Carol looked at me as if I was missing something, she spoke up,” Hunny, I am pretty sure that man has loved you from even before you started dating. Not to mention you live together now.” I blushed at her words, thinking it over.

“Just think about it, I don’t wanna be the one who outs him,” Carol continued before winking at me and walking away.

My eyebrows furrowed, I knew I loved Daryl and after this conversation it made me realize how much I truly did.

Walking up the steps to the house I took an intake of breath, I wanted to tell him. I wanted our relationship to have honesty and also didn’t want anything happening to him without him knowing how I truly felt.

I opened up the front door before yelling, “Daryl, I’m home!”

He come down the stairs fast in a black button up with a matching black pain of jeans. Daryl slowed seeing me standing there in his vest.

“Woah,” he whispered eyeing the vest.

I shook my head about to take it off thinking he was upset. But I stopped myself hearing him speak again.

“You look amazin’,” He spoke.

I looking up at him blushing,” I thought you would want me to take it off.”

He shook his head quickly before saying,” Girl, you are the only thing I would let near that thing. Don’t take it off.”

I looked down before speaking lowly,” Was not expecting that.”

He wrapped his strong arms around me, using his fore-finger and thumb to lift my chin. He bent his head down to my ear and spoke,” You look so bad ass in that jacket. Really makin’ you mine.”

Looking at him, I thought now would be a better time than none to tell him. I leaned forward and pecked him on the lips, pulling away from him as he tried to deepen it. He looked at me in confusion, frowning, but I gave him a reassuring look before finding my words.

“I’m always yours.” I took a quick breath before continuing,” because I love you Daryl.”

He looked at me a moment but then his frown from before turned into a smile. Daryl leaned down and pulled me into a deep, passionate, heavy kiss.

Pulling away for air, be breathed heavily together him being the first to speak up,” I love you too.”

We smiled at each other but then I got distracted by something in the background.

My eyes widened pulling away from the man in front of me, looking between the kitchen and him. I walked slowly into the kitchen seeing the gigantic blood mess on the counter.

I turned around quickly before speaking,” It was bad enough the rabbit was on the counter but did you really have to gut it there too.”

Daryl smiled at me,” Don’ worry about that. Focus on us.”

I stared at him in astonishment, “ I love you, I really do. But this is gonna bug the crap out of me.”

please leave any feedback or suggestions! it really helps xxoo

#daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x you #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #norman reedus smut #the walking dead #carol #twd

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Delight in Misery

- Chapter 10 (ao3) -

tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 (interlude), part 9

In Lan Wangji’s view, the best part about the upcoming visit by Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen wasn’t the excuse to drag a tetchy and reluctant Jiang Cheng night-hunting, nor the chance to meet such interesting and swiftly famous cultivators, or even the vanishingly rare opportunity to learn more about Wei Wuxian by exploring his heritage on his mother’s side.

No – it was definitely the way the mere concept transformed Jiang Cheng into a stuttering teenaged admirer about to see their revered idol for the first time.

“You remember that they are both nearly ten years your junior?” he asked as Jiang Cheng fussed around, alternating between worrying himself sick for not being prepared to receive guests (for all that the Jiang sect had been receiving honored guests for years at this point) and bragging about the exploits of their soon-arriving guests to the fascinated flock of children dogging his heels.

“No more than seven or eight at most,” Jiang Cheng objected, and Lan Wangji rolled his eyes. “Anyway, that’s not the point. Look at how accomplished they both are! When I was that age, I hadn’t done anything!”

Lan Wangji didn’t think that was entirely right. When Jiang Cheng had been the age Xiao Xingcheng and Song Zichen were now, he’d endured the loss of his sect and rebuilt it from nothing, acting more or less singlehandedly while still finding time to fight the Wen sect shoulder-to-shoulder with the other Great Sects and also search for the missing Wei Wuxian with Lan Wangji.

He opted not to mention it.

Let Jiang Cheng keep his illusions and ignore the steady encroachment of time.

“You’re calling me old in your head,” Jiang Cheng said accusingly, and Lan Wangji pasted an innocent expression on his face as confirmation. “You are, you bastard! You know you’re older than me, right?”

Lan Wangji could get a great deal of out of an admission like that.

“That’s not what I meant! We’re peers, you…!” Jiang Cheng huffed. “Listen, you’d better be on your best behavior around our guests, all right? I don’t want them to be scared off just because it looks like you’re glowering whenever you think –”

“I’ll follow your example, then, and simply not think at all.”

“Go jump off a pier!”

The children all giggled.

“You’re all going to be on best behavior too,” Jiang Cheng told them, fierce as a hissing domestic cat and just as adorably toothless. “You hear me? All of you! A-Yuan, A-Ling, that means you’re going to be cute but not spoiled, while A-Yu can – actually, just do the same as them in an age-appropriate way, you’re cute enough –”

Mo Xuanyu beamed.

“Still, we don’t know what they’re like. Start by being a little reserved – not too loud –”

Lan Sizhui waved for attention as if they were in a classroom.

“…yes?” Jiang Cheng asked, looking vaguely resigned and grumpy in a way that was clearly meant to conceal how unbearably charming he found the gesture.

“Can I be called Sizhui this time?” Lan Sizhui asked eagerly. “I’m old enough!”

Jiang Cheng frowned a bit, and Lan Wangji understood. The Jiang sect generally didn’t use courtesy names until the child in question had mastered a full sword routine, usually age eight or nine, and close family almost never made the switch in full; from what Lan Wangji knew, Jiang Yanli had called Jiang Cheng ‘A-Cheng’ right up until the end of her life, not to mention referring routinely to Wei Wuxian, who she’d only met when he was already old enough to use his courtesy name, as ‘A-Xian’. The Lan sect, in contrast, started using courtesy names almost exclusively once a child was old enough to leave his parents, typically age three or four – Lan Wangji had been calling Lan Sizhui by name for years already, and had been needling Jiang Cheng to pick it up as well without success.

“I’ll introduce you,” Lan Wangji offered, saving Jiang Cheng the awkwardness of having to explain or decline or, worst of all for someone like Jiang Cheng, accidentally slip up and say something sappy like you’ll always be A-Yuan to me.

Lan Sizhui nodded, satisfied, and next to him, Jin Ling frowned. “What about me?” he asked. “Am I going to be Rulan?”

“The Jin sect is the last of the Great Sects in using courtesy names,” Jiang Cheng said, finally on more solid ground. “Not until you get your sword, and that’s not until you’re eleven. Or twelve!”

“But I already have a sword…”

“The age you would be if you were getting your own,” Lan Wangji interjected. “To make it fair to all the rest.”

That seemed to reassure Jin Ling, who nodded. “Good,” he grumbled. “I don’t wanna be Rulan, anyway…jiujiu, when did you say these guests would be arriving?”

That, of course, sent Jiang Cheng back into a flurry of activity, and Lan Wangji shook his head, long-suffering. “You’ve hosted entire discussion conferences,” he pointed out to Jiang Cheng. “There are only two cultivators this time. It is far easier.”

“Is it?” Jiang Cheng shot back. “Is it really?”

In contrast to the expectation and build up leading up to it, the actual arrival of Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen was rather unremarkable. They arrived just as the sun was setting, two young men, one beautiful and the other handsome, both valiant heroes with faces that shone with kindness and righteousness. Xiao Xingchen’s face was curved in a gentle smile, Song Zichen set in a neutral expression. Both seemed sincere and respectful when they bowed deeply in greeting.

“It’s a pleasure and honor to host such heroes,” Jiang Cheng said, nodding his head regally in return. He really had at some point learned how to fake being a competent and confident sect leader, and it might have even had the effect he was going for if it wasn’t for the small gaggle of children very eagerly stealing peeks from next to him – but Lan Wangji wasn’t going to be the one to tell on them. “I’ve heard many stories of your adventures, and I have long looked forward to meeting you in person. My Lotus Pier is open to you for as long as you require.”

“Sect Leader Jiang is upright and straightforward, well known for his righteousness,” Xiao Xingchen said, and perhaps only Lan Wangji knew precisely why Jiang Cheng flushed with such pleasure at a compliment more commonly applied to Nie Mingjue. “We are happy to be here as your guests.”

Jiang Cheng nodded a second time, still a little stiff and wooden. “You have traveled quite a distance. Are you tired or hungry..?”

They shook their heads in refusal.

Jiang Cheng darted a glance at Lan Wangji, then turned back to them, finally relaxing out of the excess formality that suited Jin Guangshan far more than it did Jian Cheng. “In that case,” he said, his voice a little dry. “Upon the suggestion of certain of my advisors, would you prefer to cut the boring small talk and go out on a night-hunt instead?”

Xiao Xingchen’s face split into a genuine smile, and even Song Zichen’s severity seemed a little eased.

“What an excellent idea, Sect Leader Jiang,” Xiao Xingchen said warmly. “We’d be happy to. I was just telling Song Zichen not long ago that it seemed as though we hadn’t been on a proper hunt in far too long.”

“You think you have problems, try being a sect leader,” Jiang Cheng replied impulsively, then turned red when he realized how rude he’d just been. “That is, I mean – well, there’s not nearly as much free time, that’s all.”

Xiao Xingchen laughed. It gave Lan Wangji a good impression of him: light-hearted and lively, his demeanor kind and good-humored. Despite the lack of blood relation, Lan Wangji was reminded of Wei Wuxian – although perhaps that was just his wistful thinking.

“Well, there’s a reason Zichen and I haven’t started our own just yet,” he said mischievously. “There’s time for that later, after all. Youth is when you make a name for yourself! And speaking of which, I’ve heard plenty about your own prowess, Sandu Shengshou. I admit I’m looking forward to seeing Zidian in action.”

Jiang Cheng looked unbearably pleased at the compliment, clearly sincerely meant, and something in Lan Wangji’s heart that he hadn’t even known was tense finally eased.

He hadn’t realized that he himself was nervous about this meeting – less for his own sake, although he burned with curiosity to learn everything he could about Wei Wuxian, than for Jiang Cheng, who had longed for this meeting so much, cared so much. Lan Wangji found to his bemusement that he had even been a little afraid: afraid that the two strangers would be cold or arrogant, afraid that they’d reject Jiang Cheng tentative overtures of friendship – that Jiang Cheng would be disappointed.

Lan Wangji might enjoy teasing Jiang Cheng into a frenzy, but that was his prerogative. In fact, one could argue that it was only what he was due for having lived with and put up with the man for so long. He’d been the one who’d been there all this time, the one who’d put in so much effort to help rebuild him back into the man he could be rather than the wreck he had been; he’d earned the right to mock him.

No one else was entitled to so much as touch the hem of his robes.

“I have heard much of your matchless skill as well, Hanguang-jun,” Song Zichen said, his voice unexpectedly deep, and Lan Wangji’s attention came back to him as he returned the man’s salute. They both had reputations for being closed-mouthed ice-blocks, and it seemed to Lan Wangji that Song Zichen was probably just reserved, like him, rather than truly standoffish.

“You’re in for a treat, then,” Jiang Cheng said with a faint smirk. “Whether in sword or music, few can match Hanguang-jun’s talents, and he never stints on displaying them.”

To the untried ear, perhaps Jiang Cheng sounded bitter or jealous, and given his competitive mania he probably was, a little, but to Lan Wangji he sounded more smug than anything else, as proud as if he were the one being praised.

With everything settled, they headed off at once.

The subject of the night-hunt was nothing terribly exciting – a troop of fierce corpses ravaging the countryside that someone had finally managed to divine the location of, with the only interesting aspect about them being that they were unusually fast-moving – so there was plenty of time for them to talk as they followed the trail.

Lan Wangji expected Jiang Cheng to start asking questions about the immortal mountain and Wei Wuxian’s mother at once – Jiang Cheng might be prideful and thin-faced, prone to shame and overthinking, but he’d been raised along Wei Wuxian, who was second to none in shamelessness, and Lan Wangji was well aware of how much he hungered for that knowledge.

Of course, probably as a direct result of Lan Wangji’s expectations, Jiang Cheng went for a completely different target.

“It’s said that we live in an age of young heroes,” he remarked, seemingly casual. “Of course, for most of us, that was simply the inevitable result of war – crisis demands the best from people, regardless of age. Without such necessity to spur us onwards, most of us probably would’ve been still kicking our heels even now, whereas you two became heroes as soon as you arrived…how old are you now, again?”

“We are both twenty-one,” Song Zichen said, and Lan Wangji used the moment to glare over at Jiang Cheng when he mouthed six years at him – was this really the time to quibble over something as pointless as the exact age gap between them, which he’d clearly inquired about for no other purpose than to prove Lan Wangji’s earlier assumption wrong? This was Wei Wuxian’s martial uncle here! They should be getting all the information out of him that they could!

(Lan Wangji had long ago decided that when it came to feuding over minor matters with Jiang Cheng, he would be as gracious in defeat as his opponent…which was to say, not at all.)

Jiang Cheng smirked at him, knowing what he was thinking, but then – finally – turned the subject onto the immortal mountain, or more specifically its former disciples.

This time it was Song Zichen’s turn to relax minutely, Lan Wangji noticed. A moment’s thought revealed the reason: they’d probably feared cultivators asking questions that were far more pointed than what they were getting from them – cultivators greedy for the secrets of immortality. No wonder they so assiduously avoided being hosted by the Great Sects, and had done so even before Lanling Jin had gotten in the way of their heroism.

Well, luckily for them, the interest Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji had was a little more…down to earth.

“Cangse Sanren was a talent to shake the ages,” Xiao Xingchen said, his eyes bright and expression enthusiastic. “It was as if anything she turned her mind to, she excelled at, and she turned her mind to all sorts of things without discrimination – painting, poetry, swordsmanship…” He paused, then firmed his shoulders. “I heard that her son was much the same..?”

Lan Wangji felt a smile want to come up to his lips.

It seemed that Xiao Xingchen was just as interested in finding out more about his martial nephew as they were in finding out more about Wei Wuxian’s martial uncle.

Jiang Cheng glanced over at Lan Wangji, who nodded very shallowly, indicating his approval. In his judgment, both of them seemed safe enough: trustworthy, and not like people who would spread gossip.

They could talk about Wei Wuxian.

Talk truly about him, praising his good points and speaking fondly of his faults…these two, Lan Wangji thought, wouldn’t judge them harshly for failing to condemn him, and they wouldn’t tell anyone else, either.

Later, after they’d finished dispatching the ghouls – and the Wei Wuxian portion of the conversation, for which Jiang Cheng had taken the lead and which a listening Lan Wangji had enjoyed tremendously, largely on account of Xiao Xingchen’s genuine enthusiasm for learning everything he could about the martial nephew he had only just barely missed meeting, fearsome Yiling Patriarch or not – Jiang Cheng finally and regretfully brought them back to the original subject.

“I heard that you two are collecting allies to go after Xue Yang,” he said, and pretended (just as Lan Wangji did) to ignore the way Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen suddenly glanced at each other. “I’ll support that, of course. From everything I’ve heard, he’s become a mad dog, trying to bite anyone he sees. Hasn’t he been launching all sorts of raids on sects left and right these past few years?”

They nodded.

“Rather pointless ones,” Song Zichen said, a deep frown on his face. “He runs in and causes chaos, then flees into the night – he barely even stops to kill people, and almost never steals treasures. At most he goes to make trouble by defacing the walls of some of the ancestral tombs…we can see no sense in it. The only explanation is that his demonic cultivation has in fact driven him mad.”

Demonic cultivation didn’t necessarily drive a person mad. That was something Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng had painfully learned over the years, much to Jiang Cheng’s distress. However, it certainly didn’t help maintain calmness or peace of mind; there was every chance that a delinquent like Xue Yang had had his temperament worsened by demonic cultivation, leading to his present circumstances.

“Indeed,” Jiang Cheng said noncommittally. “I really have only question for you, then.”

Knowing where this was going, Lan Wangji turned his gaze on their guests’ expression.

“Haven’t you been chasing him on your own for all these years now, trying to get him to go to trial for his crimes, refusing any offers of help?” Jiang Cheng asked, his voice suddenly pointed. “Why the sudden change in favor of asking for help now?”

Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen shared another long look between them.

Finally, Xiao Xingchen cleared his throat. “In truth,” he said, “we spread that rumor as a smokescreen. We’re not looking for allies, generally speaking…we really only wanted a reason to ask for your help.”

Jiang Cheng stopped and stared, visibly surprised. Lan Wangji kept his expression more neutral, but privately he was just as taken aback; when they’d discussed this earlier, planning out this conversation in advance, that wasn’t even remotely one of the possibilities they’d considered.

“My help?” Jiang Cheng asked cautiously. “Or…?”

“Yours and Hanguang-jun,” Song Zichen said. “We weren’t sure who else to turn to.”

“What’s the issue?” Jiang Cheng asked, waving a hand to halt their forward progress. A good idea, in Lan Wangji’s view: it was the middle of the night, and they were in the middle of the forest in the back hills near the Lotus Pier, with no one around for a good distance except for trusted Jiang sect disciples – if there needed to be privacy for this discussion, this was the best place for it.

Another shared glance.

Lan Wangji slanted a glance of his own to Jiang Cheng, who returned it: they’d been right, there really was something unusual with this visit.

They stood in silence for a while.

Finally, Xiao Xingchen yielded. “Very well,” he said, and met Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “Sect Leader Jiang…can you tell us what you know about the Ghost General?”

Jiang Cheng stiffened, his fists clenching.

Lan Wangji’s heart felt just as stiff. He stepped forward.

“There are many people who can tell you about Wen Ning,” he said neutrally, watching them carefully. “Assuming that what you wish to know is how he fought or his transformation into a conscious fierce corpse. Is your concern that Xue Yang has replicated the technique and created his own ghost general?”

He didn’t think it would be that. As he’d said, everyone knew what Wen Ning had done once he’d become the Ghost General – the Jin sect would know far better than either of them how fearsome he was, since it was at Jinlin Tower that he had erupted in his final massacre. If they wanted to know about fierce corpses in general, they could go there.

To come here, to Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji – the only two people who were known to have gone up to the Yiling Burial Mounds while Wei Wuxian lived there with Wen Ning at his side, the only living people who knew what the Ghost General was like when he wasn’t being a weapon, to know what Wen Ning was like as a person – suggested something different.

Something impossible.

Xiao Xingchen met his eyes. “It is not.”

“Wen Ning was destroyed,” Jiang Cheng said, his voice tight and unsteady. “He murdered my brother-in-law, my nephew’s father, and when Lanling Jin demanded his head as retribution, he and his sister went to them under pretense of surrender and murdered even more of them before they were taken down. He was destroyed.”

They said nothing.

“The former Sect Leader Jin was very interested in demonic cultivation,” Lan Wangji said slowly. “While Wei Wuxian lived, he sought to claim the Stygian Tiger Seal. When he died…”

He glanced at Jiang Cheng a second time. They had not discussed the subject of the Siege of the Burial Mounds in any detail, as it inevitably put Jiang Cheng into a terrible frame of mind, and Lan Wangji remembered with a shudder the state they had both been in at that fateful meeting – he didn’t want to remember it himself, much less bring back bad memories for Jiang Cheng.

They certainly hadn’t discussed the subject of spoils. The only thing that had ever brought it to mind was the silent presence of Chenqing lying in place of pride in the Jiang sect’s memorial hall as the substitute for the memorial tablet they could not afford to raise for Wei Wuxian.

It hadn’t seemed relevant.

It was now.

“Sect Leader Jin took it,” Jiang Cheng confirmed, his voice shaking a little. “The Stygian Tiger Seal was broken in two, and Wei Wuxian destroyed one of the halves – the Jin sect claimed the other, saying that they were going to destroy it. I think they took more than that, too…I know they took Suibian, but they also took all the papers that’d been left in the cave. I always suspected that that was why they were so protective of Xue Yang, who was a demonic cultivator himself – that Jin Guangshan wanted to squeeze him for information, or maybe even use him to figure out some of Wei Wuxian’s notes…”

His voice trailed off, and he shook his head furiously.

“Wen Ning was destroyed,” he insisted. “The Jin sect scattered his ashes! They – they…”

“They lied,” Song Zichen said.

Lan Wangji pressed his lips together. He had no particularly warm feelings towards Wen Ning, who had been Wei Wuxian’s shadow in that last year or so of life when Wei Wuxian had turned his back on the world – a position Lan Wangji would have given his left arm to have, and over which he had had all sorts of inappropriate feelings of envy and stifled, unjustified possessiveness – but Jiang Cheng took the man’s existence far more personally.

In Jiang Cheng’s view, it had been for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had stolen the Wen sect remnants, for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had abjured his relationship with the Jiang sect and Jiang Cheng himself, for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had given up everything, and yet simultaneously it had also been Wen Ning that had pushed him to the very brink and over. Wen Ning who had murdered Jin Zixuan – Wen Ning who Wei Wuxian had so brutally avenged in the massacre at the Nightless City, at which Jiang Yanli had died.

Wen Ning, who they thought had been destroyed.

“We believe that the former Sect Leader Jin hid Wen Ning away instead of destroying him, then gave Xue Yang access to him, just as he did with the Tiger Seal and Wei Wuxian’s notes,” Xiao Xingchen said, his face solemn. “We also believe that Xue Yang took Wen Ning away with him when he escaped Jinlin Tower once the former sect leader died and the current sect leader took over. We believe that he has been controlling him through demonic cultivation, using him as something of an – accomplice, or something of the sort.”

“Controlling him how?” Jiang Cheng asked. They paused, and he continued, “I’m not stupid. You’re very sure that Wen Ning’s not gone, which means you located him and saw something that made you think so. What was it?”

Lan Wangji nodded shallowly, approving of Jiang Cheng’s deduction – and of the self-mastery he was demonstrating in not exploding in rage on the spot.

“He had nails in his head,” Xiao Xingchen said. “He…the Ghost General was mindless and unthinking, but strong. Very strong. He…”

He trailed off, and shook his head, seeming a bit sad.

“What help do you require from us?” Lan Wangji said, suddenly sick of the tension, and he saw Jiang Cheng throw him a look full of relief for having raised the question.

“Hanguang-jun is right,” Jiang Cheng said, backing him up at once. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you need us for? You two are heroes, and half the cultivation world would sell their firstborn child for a chance to bring down the Ghost General to increase their fame – there’s no way you came here just to get our help in bringing him down. If that’s what you wanted, it wouldn’t have needed to be us, and there wouldn’t have needed to be a smokescreen. What do you want?”

“We want to heal him,” Xiao Xingchen said solemnly. “To bring back his consciousness and return his sanity. But we don’t know what he was like, before Xue Yang. The only ones that do are the two of you.”

“You do remember that he killed my brother-in-law?” Jiang Cheng asked, his voice sharp.

“At Wei Wuxian’s order,” Song Zichen responded, equally sharp. “You do not blame the sword for the men it kills.”

Lan Wangji closed his eyes briefly, in pain at the reminder. He took a breath, steadying himself, and then another.

He opened his eyes.

“We will help,” he said, and ignored the betrayed look Jiang Cheng shot his way. They would talk about it later, and he would help Jiang Cheng see that this was what they had to do, no matter how painful. “And we will not betray the secret of his existence.”

“Thank you,” Xiao Xingchen said, and saluted deeply; Song Zichen did as well. “And yet, we have more we would ask of you.”

“Spit it out, then,” Jiang Cheng growled.

“Finding Wen Ning had shown us that Xue Yang’s actions have gone truly beyond the pale, beyond redemption,” Song Zichen said, and his voice was fierce. That wasn’t surprising: it had been his childhood home, his master and fellow disciples, that Xue Yang had attacked. “He is, as you said, a mad dog, biting all that he can – I believe that Wen Ning was his only companion as he fled, chased by the whole cultivation world these past few years. I fear what Xue Yang will do now that his last connection to humanity is gone. He is capable of anything.”

“We must find him,” Xiao Xingchen agreed. “We must find Xue Yang, and we must stop him from doing – whatever it is that he will do next. I cannot even begin to imagine the atrocities he might perpetrate. And so we must ask…”

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng said, and they both looked at him, surprised. “We’ll help you heal Wen Ning, and we’ll even help you hunt down Xue Yang. But this time, no excuses, no dragging your feet, no waiting for a proper trial, nothing like that. He dies, you hear me? Xue Yang is to be killed on sight!”

“I agree,” Lan Wangji said, folding his hands together behind his back. He had helped Jiang Cheng in pursuing and judging demonic cultivators before – there were those that could be granted mercy, and those for whom the only just answer was death; time and too many second chances had made inescapably clear that Xue Yang was the latter. “Each time you have sought to bring him to trial, he has taken advantage of your devotion to justice to escape.”

Xiao Xingchen looked at Song Zichen, who nodded firmly; a moment later, Xiao Xingchen sighed and nodded himself. “Agreed,” he said. “You will help us?”

“We will,” Jiang Cheng said grimly, and Lan Wangji nodded in full support. “It would be a pleasure to wipe that trash off the face of this earth.”

The town was full of mist and fog, choking the throat and making it hard to breathe or see; the feng shui of the entire valley was as bad as could be, and there was more miasma than there was air.

“You there, drunkard, what are you doing!” someone shouted at a figure lying halfway in the door of a house that was filled to the brim with coffins. “Don’t mock our livelihood! Just because it’s a coffin house doesn’t make it a good place to play dead!”

The figure stirred.

But I’m not playing dead, he thought, rubbing his aching head with one hand, noticing that he seemed to be missing his little finger. I actually was dead, wasn’t I?

Wei Wuxian opened his eyes.

#mdzs #lan wangji #jiang cheng #xiao xingchen #song lan #my fic #my fics #delight in misery

160 notes · View notes

es-kay-zee · 3 years

Text

Double or Nothing | Lee Minho & Han Jisung x Reader

pairing: jisung x reader x minho

genre: smut

warnings: non-idol au, dom! minho, sub! jisung, sub! afab reader, established polyamorous relationship, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), cum eating, humiliation, hair pulling, degradation, praise, pet names, sir kink, choking, swearing, edging, overstimulation

requested: nope

word count: 5.2k

proofread: yes :)

taglist: @bxngchxn @jisungsplatforms @hyunsluvv @qtieskz @etherealeeknow @arohabangtan @channelhan @minholuvs

(can't tag): @doyoungsjohnny

____________________

as soon as you read the message that your package was out for delivery, you were excited, practically waiting at the front door for it to arrive. you’d bought it four months ago, and when it was taking so long to show up, you’d started to think you’d wasted your money on something you weren’t going to get. but here it is, finallyarriving. you watch the postman place it on your doorstep, waiting for him to drive away so you can swing the door open and grab it.

as soon as you have the package in your hands, you rush down the hallway, almost running to the bedroom in excitement. you place the package on the side of the bed, shaking jisung’s sleeping form in an attempt to wake him from his sleep. it doesn’t work, you’re slumbering boyfriend continuing to snore away, barely even stirring.

“wake up!” you shout, grabbing one of the pillows and smacking him with it. he begins to move slightly, and you can tell it’s working. you hit him again with the pillow, over and over until he eventually sits up.

under normal circumstances, you’d take a moment to laugh at jisung’s bedhead, but right now, there’s too much excitement running through your veins to even notice the way his hair sticks up at odd angles. instead, you pick up the package again, holding it up and smiling widely at jisung, waiting for him to notice it. but alas, he doesn’t notice, moving to lay back down and go back to sleep.

“hey, don’t you wanna know what i’ve got?” you ask, waving the package slightly.

“what have you got? just tell me,” he mumbles, eyes already closed once again.

“the outfits arrived,” you answer, and that finally wakes him up properly.

he sits up again, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before looking at the box in your hands. he grabs it from you, impatiently prying it open and carefully pulling out the contents.

“i forgot we actually ordered these,” he says, holding one of the matching maid outfits up to look at it.

“are we sure minho’s gonna like them?” you ask, a small bit of doubt creeping into the forefront of your mind.

“well, if he doesn’t, then that’s his problem. either way, we’re gonna look so fucking good,” jisung says, smiling wide as he continues to look at the item in his hands. “where is he, anyway?”

“he went out for lunch with his parents, remember?”

“oh yeah, that’s right.” he pauses, turning his head to you, and you can tell from the look on his face exactly what he’s thinking, especially because you’re thinking the same thing. “how long before he’ll get home?”

“not sure, i can text him and ask,” you say, already pulling out your phone and opening the messages between you and minho. you start typing, asking him how long before he might get home. it’s only moments before your phone buzzes with his reply.

minho <3: maybe an hour. why?

y/n: we just miss you, that’s all

he doesn’t respond, and you know that he’s aware of the real reason you’re asking. he can tell that both you and jisung are needy and waiting for him to come home.

“we have about an hour,” you say, turning to jisung, and he drags himself out of bed at your words. “where are you going?”

“to shower,” he replies, walking towards the bathroom. “because i’m not gonna be stinky when our boyfriend gets home.”

“ah, that’s a good idea,” you reply, deciding to scroll aimlessly through various apps on your phone.

“are you saying i stink?”

“always.”

he scoffs, but you can tell from the upturn at the corners of his mouth that he’s just pretending to be insulted. “well, you’re always stinky as well.”

“am not.”

“are too.”

it’s childish, the way you and jisung always banter with each other. but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“just go shower,” you say, shaking your head.

“wanna join me?” he asks, a cheeky grin on his face.

“nah, your hands like to wander, so i’ll just shower after you,” you reply. “just don’t use up all the hot water.”

it takes almost 40 minutes for jisung to emerge from the bathroom, a towel loosely hanging around his lower half. but you don’t even take a moment to complain about how long he took, only opting to glare at him as you zoom past him and into the bathroom.

you shower faster than you ever have before, stepping back out of the bathroom, clad in a towel, in record speed. 10 minutes to be exact, which is quite quick for you, who usually showers for upwards of half an hour. as soon as you step into the bedroom, you’re greeted with the sight of jisung, already dressed in his outfit. he spins around upon hearing your soft footsteps, and the view of him is even better from the front.

you love it, the way his strong arms stick out from the short sleeves, the way the skirt rests around his thighs. the fabric hugs his torso perfectly, accentuating his tiny waist.

“how do i look?” he asks, and you respond with an approving nod and a thumbs up.

jisung smiles at your reaction while you grab the other maid costume. you quickly dry off the rest of your body, excited to put on the new clothing. if you look anywhere near as good in it as jisung does, then you’ll be super happy. you pull the garment on, turning to face the mirror once it’s in place, jisung walking to stand next to you, also looking at the reflection. he was right, about what he said earlier, you both look so good.

“what now?” jisung asks.

“now, we wait for our hot ass boyfriend to get home,” you answer, moving to sit on the bed. he follows you with a soft whine. jisung’s the impatient one, always getting himself worked up then complaining when no one helps him straight away.

you begin scrolling through your phone once again, jisung doing the same. and you can tell he’s getting himself worked up, judging from the way he keeps inching himself closer and closer. you, however, ignore him, determined to wait patiently for minho to come home. you fall into a steady rhythm, scrolling aimlessly, and the time ticks by quietly. or, at least, it was quiet until jisung lets out a frustrated groan.

“where is he? he told you an hour, and it’s already been an hour and a half,” he huffs, and you’re not surprised at his response. nor are you surprised when you face him and find his cock hard, pressing against the front of his skirt.

“he’ll be here soon, just be patient.”

“but i’m tired of waiting,” he pouts, placing a hand on your thigh. “what if we had some fun before he gets here?”

“you’re too horny for your own good, sungie,” you reply with a slight eye roll, feeling the way his hand rises up. a content sigh leaves your lips when his hand finally reaches your pussy, a lone finger running through your slick folds, already dripping with arousal.

“see, you’re just as turned on as i am,” he huffs, continuing to move his finger slowly, teasingly. and he’s right. while you’ve been waiting for minho to show up, your mind has been wandering, thinking up all the different possibilities for what he’s going to do when he sees you both, and you’ve been getting more and more worked up with every passing minute.

“but i, at least, know how to behave myself and wait patiently,” you retort, trying to hold back the whines bubbling in your throat.

“well, i don’t see you stopping me right now,” he says, his finger beginning to rub small circles into your clit.

“oh, shut up,” you say, voice somewhat breathless as you bring your hand up to jisung’s aching cock.

it’s almost instantaneous, the moan that he lets out when you wrap your hand around his length, slowly rubbing your thumb along his slit. you slowly pump him, and his hand stills against your clit, his brain momentarily short-circuiting at the stimulation you’re providing him. it only takes a few seconds for jisung to regain control of himself, moving his hand so that his fingers prod at your entrance. he slides the digit in, quickly adding a second while you continue to jerk him off leisurely.

he curls his fingers inside of you, causing you to let out a particularly desperate sounding moan. you pump jisung’s cock faster, losing yourself in the feelings of the moment, loving the way his fingers drag along your walls. you can feel the beginnings of your orgasm starting to grow, the knot forming deep in your stomach. but you can tell from the chorus of shameless whines and moans tumbling from jisung’s parted lips that his orgasm looms much closer. his cock twitches in your hand, so close to a release, but a voice speaks up from the doorway, halting your movements.

“well, well, well, what do we have here?”

you pull away from jisung, his fingers leaving you while you ignore the irritated whine he lets out from his orgasm steadily fading away. you stare at the doorway, eyes wide as you look at minho standing there, his arms folded across his chest and his expression none too impressed.

minho walks towards you, each step somewhat menacing, and it’s obvious that he’s not very pleased with what he found you and jisung doing. he brings his hand up, gripping your chin tightly between his finger and thumb, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him.

“tell me, lamb, which one of you was the impatient one?”

he doesn’t have to ask; he already knows the answer. it’s jisung, it’s always jisung. but you tell him anyway, finding some joy in telling on jisung. minho shakes his head in disappointment, frowning at the younger boy.

“was my pretty boy too horny to wait just a little bit longer,” he says, and you watch as jisung’s ears grow redder and redder. he cowers slightly under minho’s stare, the older man being entirely unimpressed with jisung breaking the rules. “what do you have to say for yourself?”

“i’m sorry,” jisung says, his voice quiet, meek, and he keeps his eyes trained on the bed underneath him, unable to look minho in the eye. minho just tsks in response, saying nothing more about the disobedience, knowing the best way to punish jisung is with actions, not words.

“do you like our outfits?” you ask, kind of annoyed that you’re not getting enough attention.

minho’s eyes scan over you and jisung, and you can tell that he loves the way you both look.

“of course i do, you both look so cute in your little matching outfits,” he smiles, gently cupping your face and rubbing his thumb along your cheek.

he leans in, pressing his lips to yours, and you smile into the kiss, enjoying the gentle moment. but it’s interrupted by jisung’s soft whines. he pouts his lips, silently asking for a kiss as well. minho rolls his eyes slightly, but you can see the soft smile on his face before he leans over to jisung and kissing him. minho steps back, grabbing the chair from the corner of the room and placing it at the end of the bed, ignoring the confused looks from you and jisung.

“now, my pretty pets wanted to play with each other, so you’re gonna keep playing. but you’re gonna do it the way i tell you to,” he says, sitting down. “so, y/n, as adorable as you look all dressed up for me, i want you to strip.”

“yes, sir,” you say, eager to please. you slowly stand up, reaching behind you to undo your outfit before slowly sliding it down your body, being sure to sway your hips enticingly as you do so.

“that’s my good little lamb,” he says, making you smile at the praise. “now, sungie, sit with your back against the headboard, and y/n, i want you to suck him off.”

you wait for jisung to settle into his spot before you move into your position between his legs, lifting up the skirt of his outfit to reveal his still throbbing cock. just as he did before, he moans the second you take him into your hand, slowly pumping him a few times before bringing him to your lips. you press a chaste kiss to the tip, relishing in the soft hiss he lets out at the minuscule contact. you can’t see minho, but you can tell that he’s smirking at you both from his seat, enjoying watching the way you tease the desperate boy in front of you.

“p-please don’t tease me, y/n,” he whimpers out, bringing his hands to tangle in your hair.

“shut up, sungie. you’re lucky i’m not trying you up in the corner to just watch,” minho spits, and jisung’s mouth instantly closes at the words.

you place another kiss along his slit before finally, licking a stripe up the underside of his cock. your tongue moves slowly against him, painstakingly slowly, and he lets out the most pathetic whine you’ve ever heard. it’s a beautiful sound, and you want to hear it again. you pause, waiting a few seconds before licking another stripe, moving just as leisurely as the first time, and you’re rewarded with another desperate whine, jisung wanting to ask for more, but knowing minho will stop you if he does. you lick once more before finally taking him into your mouth.

the only sound better than his whines is his moan upon finally getting to feel the warmth of your mouth. it’s low, guttural, bordering on being a groan. and it sounds like heaven. it sounds like a sinful delight that you’re all too happy to indulge in. you hollow your cheeks, sucking harshly on the tip of his cock before bobbing your head once, taking as much of him as you can before pulling away. you release him with a soft pop, swirling your tongue around him twice before moving back down his length, setting a calm pace with the bobs of your head.

you can feel him twitch in your mouth, his earlier lost orgasm already beginning to return. you hold your head down, feeling him deep in your throat. you moan around his cock, loving the way the vibrations make him rut his hips upwards, causing you to gag slightly. jisung’s legs start to tremble, his moans rising in pitch, and you can tell he’s getting close to his release.

“oh f-fuck, i’m gonna-” he stutters, eyes screwed shut and his hands tugging softly on your hair, a weak attempt to keep himself grounded.

“cum on their tits,” minho’s voice speaks up, and you’d almost forgotten he was even there, watching, observing the way you swallow around jisung’s cock.

“b-but-” jisung whines, wanting to cum down your throat.

“but what? you should be grateful i’m even letting you cum at all,” minho responds.

but, just like jisung, you also want him to cum down your throat. you want to taste him, want his release to coat your tongue. so, you don’t stop, continuing to bob your head up and down with new vigour, trying to make him cum before you can be stopped. but minho gets there first, moving from his chair to you in the blink of an eye, moving jisung’s hands from your hair and harshly grabbing a fistful of it himself, yanking your head back so that jisung’s cock falls free from the confines of your lips.

jisung is quick, taking his cock into his hand and pumping quickly, not wanting to lose his orgasm for the second time. minho presses one of his hands against your back so that you arch it, your chest protruding outwards. jisung pumps himself once, twice, before you feel the warmth of his release hit your tits. you hang your mouth open, tongue out in an attempt to taste at least a drop. but you’re out of luck, his cum only splattering across the expanse of your chest.

you watch jisung’s hand slow down, jerking himself off until he comes back down from his high. he lays limp against the bed, breathing heavily as he tries to catch his breath. minho lets go of you, moving towards jisung. he gentle strokes the younger boy’s hair, telling him how well he did. but the softness only lasts for a moment, minho yanking against jisung’s hair, pulling his head back so that they’re looking each other in the eye.

“lick it off,” minho orders, voice stern. jisung goes bright red, blood rushing to the surface as his face heats up in embarrassment, and you can practically feel the warmth radiating from him from where you’re sitting.

the look on his face is a marvel to behold, a perfect combination of humiliation and desire. so utterly embarrassed at the mere notion of it, but also so devastatingly turned on at the idea of licking his own cum from your breasts. he nods his head, moving so that you can take his place. you lie down, your head resting upon the pillows, jisung hovering over you.

minho stands up, returning to his chair at the end of the bed, watching as jisung’s head lowers to your breasts. jisung looks up at you through his eyelashes before pressing his tongue flat against the soft flesh of your chest.

there’s something so filthy, so dirty about watching him lick his own cum from your skin. something so entirely erotic about the trails of saliva he leaves behind. you moan softly when his lips wrap around one of your nipples, sucking softly on the sensitive bud. he’s quick to let go, though, moving his lips and tongue across, wrapping his lips around your other nipple as well. and it’s not long before his cum is cleaned from your tits, jisung turning to face minho, waiting to be told what happens next.

“good boy, sungie,” minho says, and jisung perks up at the praise, loving to hear that he’s doing a good job. “what do you say to y/n for making you cum?”

jisung turns back to face you, and it’s adorable, the way he looks so shy. but he says his thanks to you anyway, his cheeks a soft shade of pink.

“it’s your turn to give, pretty boy. y/n made you cum so now you can do the same to them.”

“yes, sir,” jisung says, moving so that his face is in front of your pussy. you’ve ignored the throbbing between your legs for long enough. and it’s only now, with jisung’s breath delicately hitting your dripping folds, that you realise just how desperate you are for some kind of stimulation. for any small amount of contact that can bring you the release you need.

his tongue darts out of his mouth, quickly swiping up from your entrance to your clit. you let out a broken moan, your hands flying to tangle in his hair and your eyes closing tightly. jisung’s always been good at this, making you feel good with his mouth. and as his tongue dips into your hole, you can’t help but feel as if you’re floating amongst the clouds.

he only adds to your pleasure, however, when he brings his fingers to prod at your entrance while he sucks at your clit. he curls his digits, working your g-spot for the second time today and it makes your back arch. you tug at his hair, pressing his face harder against you, greedy for more. and jisung is happy to provide. he thrusts his fingers into you faster, humming against your clit. and the vibrations feel like electricity, setting off every nerve ending in your body.

you slowly open your eyes, and you’re greeted with one of the best sights. minho sits on his chair, clothes in a pile on the floor next to him, his hand wrapped around his hard cock, jerking himself off to the sight of you being eaten out by jisung. jisung’s fingers pumping in and out of your walls feel divine, but the addition of knowing that minho’s watching, and that he’s getting off to it as well, is enough to make the knot in your stomach grow faster.

you look down at jisung, and you love the way he looks. his maid outfit still covering him, his eyes closed as he relishes in the taste of you. his hands wrap around your thighs, grip firmly holding you in place, and you can see the way his hips rut against the edge of the bed.

the knot grows, steadily coiling tighter and tighter until you’re waiting, with bated breath, for it to unravel. with a particularly delightful curl of jisung’s fingers, you’re cumming, your legs shaking on either side of his head. he works you through it until you’re only left trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

minho stands up, signalling for jisung to do the same, and the younger boy does, standing beside the bed awaiting instructions.

“strip,” he says to jisung, and he does, quickly ridding himself of the maid outfit, tossing it unceremoniously into the corner of the room.

jisung stands still, cock hard once again, and you can see on his face how much he’s struggling to stop himself from wrapping his hand around himself. minho ignores him for a moment, helping you manoeuvre yourself so that you’re laying sideways across the bed, your head hanging off the edge. he climbs on the bed, positioning himself between your legs before finally acknowledging jisung once more.

“you’re gonna fuck their throat again, sungie,” he says and is quick to continue when jisung pouts. “and don’t complain. if you were good earlier, then you might’ve gotten to fuck their pussy, but you weren’t. so, you’re gonna take what you get and be grateful for it.”

jisung huffs slightly but says nothing further as he lines himself up with your opened mouth. he takes himself in his hand, rubbing the head of his cock along your lips, his breathing uneven from the knowledge of the pleasure that is in store for him. minho does the same, sliding his tip up and down your entrance, gathering your wetness. and only when you whine softly, a quiet beg for more, do they finally both push into you.

it’s kind of funny, the way they both simultaneously pause when they’re bottomed out, catching their breaths, needing a moment to recover from how good you feel wrapped around them. it feels like a lifetime before they begin to move, and it’s immediate euphoria, the way minho’s cock drags along your walls, every single one of his thrusts deep and purposeful. his hips move slowly into yours, wanting to truly feel the way you clench around him. and jisung’s thrusts are the same, calculated, determined, savouring the way your throat constricts his cock in just the right way.

you keep your eyes closed, just letting yourself feel the way they’re making you feel, the almost overwhelming pleasure you’re being provided. you can feel the drool dripping from the corners of your opened mouth. you can hear the grunts and groans from both of your boyfriends, you can smell the unmistakable scent of sex in the air. and you can taste jisung’s precum on the back of your tongue.

you’re careful of your breathing, being sure to take breaths at every opportunity. you lift your hands, gripping tightly onto jisung’s thighs while minho’s hands do the same to your hips. his fingers dig into the flesh, and you know that the skin there will be littered with a bunch of tiny bruises. but you don’t care, bruises are a small price to pay for total pleasure, especially when they don’t hurt at all.

jisung’s hands cradle your head, and he watches the faint outline of his cock in your throat. the sight alone draws a moan from his lips and sends a shudder through his body. your attention is brought back to minho when he begins to slowly rub at your clit with his thumb, and your body jolts slightly from the pleasure. you clench tighter around him in response, making his hips stutter for a moment before he regains his steady rhythm.

“fuck! c-can i cum? please? i n-need to,” jisung pleads, his thrusts into your mouth growing sloppier and sloppier as he gets closer to his orgasm.

“of course you can, sungie. go ahead and cum for us,” minho says, and you pick up on the tone with which he speaks. you can hear the almost sinister undertones in his words, but it’s obvious jisung doesn’t, because he releases down your throat with a moan.

he thrusts a few more times until he comes down from his high before stilling inside your mouth. he’s panting, trying to catch his breath before minho speaks up again.

“now, keep going.”

“huh?” jisung’s confused, it’s written all over his face. and there’s slight fear in his eyes. he’s well aware of what minho’s order means, but he doesn’t want to believe it.

“you wanted so badly to cum earlier, even breaking the rules to try and do so. so that’s what you’re gonna do. you’re gonna cum again.”

jisung’s frozen in his spot, and you press your hands harder against the back of his thighs so that he can’t step away. you take the chance to catch your breath as much as you can, taking deep breaths in through your nose while you wait for him to move again. but he doesn’t, each time he tries to thrust again his body shivers in overstimulation, and it stops him. minho takes matters into his own hands.

he thrusts into you with more force than before, causing you to moan around jisung as well as lurch towards jisung. you swallow around him and the younger boy whimpers from the overstimulation, his knees almost buckling beneath him, but you can tell he loves it.

minho grips your thighs, lifting your legs so that they wrap around his torso, and he’s able to thrust into you better, the slight change providing the perfect angle for him to reach deeper inside your tight walls. you can hear his breathing getting ragged, the warmth of your pussy starting to get to him, and his hips stutter every few thrusts.

minho lets out a shaky moan, and you clench around him as tight as you can, beginning to grind your hips up against him for some added friction, while jisung finally regains control of himself, managing to restart shallow thrusts into your throat.

all the nerves in your body are alight once more, and you can feel the knot forming again. you continue moaning around jisung’s cock, and the vibrations are sending him hurtling towards another release of his own. you can tell that minho is also nearing his end, his breathing is heavy, his thrusts are getting sloppy. but he doesn’t want to be the first to finish. he slides one of his hands up your body, leaving goosebumps in his fingertips’ wake before reaching your neck. he wraps his hand around your throat, and jisung’s the first to feel it. he feels the way your throat envelops him tighter, and he lets out such a desperate whine before cumming down your throat without warning. you swallow around him, feeling the way his thick cum slides down the back of your throat. his legs shake when he steps away from you, and he’s quick to lay down on the bed beside you.

minho’s hand stays around your throat as he continues to thrust into you, and he rolls his hips expertly. you’re close, so damn close to your orgasm. but you need something more, anything more, and jisung and minho can both see that. they both know what to do, minho leaning down and bringing one of your nipples into his mouth, while jisung wraps his lips around the other.

they both work in tandem, almost in sync as their tongues flick and swirl over your buds and it’s mere moments before they have you right there, standing on the precipice of ultimate pleasure, teetering on the cliffside, so close that a small gust of wind could push you over. but you fall, of your own volition, into an earth-shattering orgasm.

your entire body moves on its own, writhing, trembling. your head is thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, legs shaking and twitching around minho’s torso. your back arches, your hips buck up and down over and over again. you’ve never had an orgasm so good, so exquisite, before. minho can tell from the way your walls grip his cock tighter than ever before, the way your mouth hangs open in a silent moan that just can’t seem to escape the confines of your throat.

the almost unbearable tightness of your pussy sends him over, triggering the orgasm that he’s been fending off for longer than he’d like to admit. you’re still lost in the pleasure, blissed out from the best orgasm of your life when minho releases inside you, painting your wall white. it’s only when you both have come down from your highs that both boys detach from your chest, jisung flopping back against the pillows while minho gently pulls out of you.

“you guys good?” minho asks, leaning back, propped up with his arms. you and jisung nod, happy smiles on both your faces. “good, then i’ll go grab us some water.”

he slowly stands up, catching his breath before heading out of the room. you use the moment to quickly go to the bathroom to clean yourself up. and by the time you return to the bedroom, minho is already there, two glasses of water in his hands and one more in jisung’s. minho hands one to you as you sit back down on the bed. it’s not until you drink the cool liquid that you realise just how much your throat aches. it’s faced a lot of use over the course of the session, but you know a scratchy throat is only temporary.

“i really liked your outfits,” minho says, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled in the room.

“thank you,” you and jisung say in unison. you both giggle before you continue.

“i bought them months ago and started to give up hope that they’d even show up.”

“then it’s a really good thing they did because they just might get a lot of use,” minho replies, smiling. “did you both have fun?”

“of course! it was really good,” jisung responds first.

“yeah, i really enjoyed it,” you say.

“i’m glad.” minho grins wider, happy that you both enjoyed it. it always makes him happy to know you both had fun. “what shall we do now? get in the hot tub or watch a movie?”

“who says we can’t do both? hot tub and then a movie,” jisung says.

“i second that motion,” you add.

“alrighty then,” minho replies. “then that’s what we’ll do.”

all three of you make your ways out of the bedroom, stopping to grab a towel each on the way to the backyard. and as you all reach the hot tub, jisung and minho both pulling back the cover, you’re just excited to sink into the nice hot water with both of your loving boyfriends.

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