Steve/ Bucky - “i’m a newly-turned werewolf without a pack and i can’t really control myself well on full moon nights yet and you keep finding me passed out naked on your lawn”, please?
“Steve?” Bucky’s voice startled Steve out of his doze – he hadn’t meant to fall asleep, he’d intended to stumble to his feet and figure out how to get home before dawn, but it turned out that having all your bones rearranged was exhausting – and he hurriedly rolled to his feet.
Well, he tried to. Mostly he groaned and smashed his face into the dew-drenched grass.
“’m fine,” he told the grass, reveling in the chill of the morning air on his now constantly overheated skin.
“You’re naked and sleeping on my front lawn,” Bucky said, jamming his hands under Steve’s arms and hauling him into a sitting position. “You might be fine now, but you won’t be in thirty minutes when old Mrs. Hannigan across the street wakes up and calls the police.”
Bucky had a point there, Steve admitted. He propped Steve up against his legs and proceeded to towel off Steve’s damp head, as though his best friend turned up naked on his lawn every week. Steve was beginning to think he should have been bitten by a werewolf years ago, if it got Bucky’s hands combing through his hair.
Only, no, because he was naked in Bucky’s yard. His mother was going to kill him.
“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, pulling Steve to his feet and wrapping the towel around his waist. Steve was relieved that his entire body ached and his right calf was cramping, or the feeling of Bucky’s fingers dragging just over his hipbone might have done him in.
“What do you mean?” Steve replied too fast, tripping over the words. “Nothing’s wrong.” He shook his head hard, and Bucky snorted.
“Punk, you were mooning my Mum over her morning coffee. Nothing’s wrong?” All Steve’s blood rushed to his face, his entire chest flushed red. His mother was going to kill him.
“Uh,” he stuttered. “Just, um, just, it was a really wild night.” Which was true. Steve vaguely recalled hunting for his dinner, and that was pretty wild, as things went.
Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Pal, it’s a Tuesday. And I’m the quarterback. You’re telling me you went to a party on a Monday night that I didn’t even hear about?”
“Modest, aren’t you?” Steve griped, and Bucky laughed, tilted his head back and chortled at the lightening sky.
Maybe being mauled by a supernatural creature and turned into a ravening beast wasn’t so bad, if it got him Bucky’s smile lit by the dawn.
“Steven,” Mrs. Barnes called, sticking her head out the front door, still in her bathrobe and rollers. “Did you want some toast with those hard-boiled eggs of yours?”
Steve debated taking the towel and making a run for it, despite not knowing where his clothes were or whether he would make it a block before Mrs. Hannigan called the cops.
Bucky had his mother’s diabolical grin, and Steve decided being a werewolf was, in fact, as bad as he had originally thought. Worse, even, because Mrs. Barnes popped him on his towel-clad ass with her morning paper as he slunk inside.
“Is this some sort of cult thing?” Bucky asked, twenty-eight mornings later, chucking a blanket onto Steve and flopping down beside him in the back yard to gaze at the fading violet of the night sky.
“Ungh,” Steve informed him, still trying to breathe through the grinding pain of having his facial bones flattened and his joints broken and reassembled, worse than rheumatic fever and the measles combined.
“Because Mum doesn’t mind when you stay over, but she really prefers it when we’re both inside and you’re wearing clothes. And Dad thinks you’re getting some bad medication.” Bucky paused, reaching out to tug the blanket off Steve’s face – Steve’s asthma had fled with the bite, but Bucky didn’t know that, and something in Steve’s chest warmed at the gesture. “Also,” Bucky added, “Becky is sort of at an impressionable age, and I would really prefer she didn’t see naked people on our lawn. She sees enough of them on the internet.”
Steve choked on his own saliva, and Bucky pounded his back until Steve shoved him away.
He wasn’t actually sure why he kept ending up on Bucky’s lawn. This time he’d even prepared – had borrowed his Ma’s car and driven into the protected forest ten miles away, sure that he would chase rabbits and probably wake up freezing in a river somewhere in the woods.
He really wished there was a werewolf handbook somewhere, to explain these sorts of things.
Bucky slung an arm around Steve’s shoulders, the fabric of his old thermal top scratchy against Steve’s oversensitive skin. “Besides,” Bucky said, “You really shouldn’t be out here at night. Alice and Nonie were toasting marshmallows at the fire pit last night and thought they saw a feral dog.”
Steve’s mouth went dry. Bucky’s baby sisters, the twins, out after dark on the night of a full moon. They would turn eight in a month, and had been begging Steve and Bucky to take them to the amusement park, swearing they were tall enough now for the rollercoasters. He had been living with the Barneses when the girls were born, his Ma still in the hospital with tuberculosis. The twins were the little sisters he’d never had.
And he would have ripped out their throats, hours ago, a feral dog too close to the Barnes home.
“I should go,” he managed, even though he was shaking too hard to stand. Bucky’s arm tightened around his shoulders, and Steve flinched.
“You should come eat some of the pancakes the devil children are making for you,” Bucky contradicted him, leaning his head against Steve’s, pressing comfort into Steve’s skin the way he had through countless childhood illnesses, the way he’d held Steve’s hand in the hospital when they were ten and the doctors thought Steve was going to die. “They added a whole bag of chocolate chips.”
“I –” Steve didn’t know how to say it. I’m dangerous. “Bucky –”
“We’ll figure it out,” Bucky interrupted, wrapping his other arm around Steve’s chest, shifting so that their foreheads were pressed together, his pale eyes boring steadily into Steve’s. “Whatever it is, Steve, we’ll figure it out.”
And Steve wanted so badly for it to be true.
“You moron,” someone said, not for the first time if the tone of voice was anything to go by. “You fucking idiot. These are things you tell your best friend!”
Something in that sentence caught Steve’s attention, even as he lay panting on the ground in the dark, the moon only just below the horizon. Best friend. Shit. Bucky. “I -” he tried to say, but his vocal cords hadn’t finished transforming and all he managed was a faint croak.
Cool, gentle hands slid over his skin, tempering the fiery pain licking through Steve’s muscles and through every pore. “Shh,” Bucky whispered, laying down next to Steve and tugging him into a loose embrace. “Shh, you dumbass, I’ve got you.”
Pain cleared Steve’s head quickly. If Bucky was with him, then he must be in Bucky’s lawn again, despite locking himself in the basement of the abandoned Stark mansion at the edge of town. Damn it. The girls!
“Al – Nonie?” he coughed, struggling weakly in Bucky’s arms.
“You’re an idiot,” Bucky informed him, the same unwavering affection he’d shown Steve since they were five. “You saved their lives, you know?”
Steve frowned, and wiggled around until he was facing Bucky, their noses brushing and Bucky’s eyes almost silver in the dark. “That feral dog they saw last time?” Bucky continued, sure that he had Steve’s attention. “That wasn’t you, punk. That was some other werewolf.” Steve blinked. He hadn’t considered that. Hadn’t even considered that there were more werewolves, beyond the crazed man that had bitten him. “I think you came close to tearing his snout off before he could even think about attacking them. They think we have the best guard dog ever.” Bucky paused, snickering, his breath warm against Steve’s face. “I think they left a bowl of water and a steak bone for you, if you’re hungry.”
Steve scowled at Bucky’s smirk. “This isn’t funny!” he insisted hoarsely. “Bucky, I could –”
“Save my family’s lives?” Bucky finished for him, raising both eyebrows and shaking his head a little, telegraphing his disbelief at the fears teeming in Steve’s eyes. “You’re not a threat, Steve. Not to us.” Bucky kept his eyes on Steve’s, even as he tilted his head just close enough to press his lips to Steve’s in a brief, quiet kiss. Steve dug his fingers into Bucky’s waist and held on.
“Do you boys have condoms?” Mrs. Barnes called through the back door, loud enough to wake the neighborhood and send Steve into another full-body blush – but that was all right. Steve had decided being a werewolf wasn’t so bad, if it put Bucky in his arms and Bucky’s mouth on his.
“I think your father has a box somewhere, from before the vasectomy,” she added. Bucky’s face blanched, and Steve tried to gauge whether his legs would hold him, if he grabbed Bucky’s hand and ran for the hills.
Now, someone wanted them all, and some wanted a few, so here’s the whole show, enjoy
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) He is the biggest Cuddle machine ever, whether it be rough sex or gentle sex he will wrap his arms around them tightly and nuzzle his head into the crook of their neck when they are done .
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
His favorite part of his own body would have to be his eyebrows, he is rather proud of the bushyness, no but seriously he is super self conscious about his body , surprisingly , but if he had to choose it would be his cheeks, he randomly pokes them when he looks at himself in the mirror and he loves it when his partner rubs gentle circles on his cheeks. Or pecks his cheeks. For his partner he loves every ounce of them, but if he had pick a favorite it would be their eyes. Because he is a real romantic when it comes to his significant other and truly believes the eyes are the windows to the souls. How he shows this is with random long stares, and then coming over and kissing their closed eyelids.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)
A lot, there is a whole lot of it. He even feels bad sometimes , especially with blowjobs.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He loves it when you call him Mr. Graves and he growls like a wolf. I don’t know if that’s really considered a dirty secret but you know. It’s kinky.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) Very fucking experienced, he was a player in his earlier years but now doesn’t have the time for ,“ such childish things”, meaning being a player. He looks for commitment , the real deal once he becomes an Auror, seeing them how short life can be and he wants someone to spend it with him . To Love him and for him to love them.
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual) Old school, missionary . I don’t have a visual. Kinda wish i did, just watch his sex tape honestly . I’m too scared too XD.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) He is humorous, since all fucking day he is “big bad Mr. Graves”, his partner gets the satisfaction of being one of the only people to ever see his softer , funny side. He tends to make small jokes during it, to see you smile or laugh softly, both from the pleasure , and his funnies.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) a fucking jungle and he could care less.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) he will be Cheesy as fuck and you have to try not to laugh.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon) He secretly does it in his office if he is super bored or horny . And when no ones around and he’s just doing paper work.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) Your laugh, “oh Mr. Graves~” , being tied in a chair and blind folded, he loves it when it’s in his office too. After hours. ;) -added; Rain
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do) His office , his apartment, once he tried it on top of that building Jacob and Queenie first kissed under. It rained , he has a kink for rain now.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) when you tell him he’s not all that bad, and that you love him. Seductively cheek his cheekys. He’s like a giant insecure puppy when he’s alone with his partner .
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Anything that brings harm to his partner , he doesn’t do spanking , (and I mean like spanking spanking not like a pat on the ass, he does do that ) etc.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) He’s more into giving than receiving and his tongue is like a snake , aka skill level over 9000, I know , bad joke but look at him. He is very skilled .
P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) It depends, if you and him were to have gotten into a heated argument or he had an irritating day at work he’ll not purposefully make the sex rather fast and rough and apologize with soft kisses and tender touches for it afterwards or whens he’s calmed down. But also on days where he’s mellow, needy or simply had a bad day at work, a rather depressing case, or something that reminds him how fragile life is , he’ll want to show you just how much he loves and longs for you with nice, gentle , slow and sensual sex.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) Doesn’t like ‘em. Prefers meaningful and true than just for kicks, even in his office but he has done them a few times in his life time . Flash back to his player years.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) if his partner really wants to, he’ll do it.
But he is more ‘old and classy’ but can do literally everything, except for the pain inducing experiments .
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) If he’s really into the mood and so is his partner , 3 rounds max, but do know most rounds last pretty long sometimes 20-30 minutes. If it’s real love making.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) No, he tried once with a blow up sex doll, he didn’t really like it very much nor get much out of it than just little jerk offs and so if you search deep enough in his closet through his suits and scarfs she just sits there in the corner with a rolled up newspaper in her mouth and old glasses on from when he was in his teens.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) He LOVES it , like , LOVES it when his partner begs, but he won’t be too mean since sometimes he just can’t resist as he pecks them on the nose with a smirk and a soft spoken ,“ okay okay”
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) He is usually mostly quiet except for his short cheesy jokes/pick up lines . He grunts softly from time to time.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) I didn’t really understand this one but I’m just gonna say a random head cannon (not sexual) is he actually very much dislikes both the law that No-maj’s and wizards/witches can not interact on any means and he hates obliviating people. It actually tugs his heart strings when he has to do it to just normal people. He couldn’t imagine it. The look , he regrets it every time he does it.
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) 7-8 ½ inches
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) It’s average , he could go with out sex for quite a while (do to the convenience of his job) but like any normal person can get a bit needy from time to time.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) doesn’t take long, but he likes to fall asleep after his partner so he can take one last moment to admire them in there most peaceful state before he shuts his eyes for the night.
(I hope you all enjoyed you thirsty lil Sinamon rolls 😘❤️)
Percival , in but his white dress shirt , untucked from his black pants , the first 3 buttons undone around his collar. He leaned against the frame of his window sill. A steady, worn gaze. Tired , grave. He hasn’t shaved in over a week. Black and grey stubble masking his chin and cheeks. His mocha colored eyes like empty sockets above the bags, staring weakly down the rode of his dull lit apartment. He flinched as hateful memories flashed into his mind for but a fragment of a second. He looked away hastily , yanking the curtains closed. The only light from the outside vanished and left him in darkness. He rose a hand , his palm glowing bright blue so he could at least see his way back to his desk. Then lighting his lamp. He resumed his stacks of paper work. Quill left how it was before, laid recklessly on a page , ink like blood droplets littering the paper beneath it.
“I can’t focus … I.. Need a distraction.”
I feel like shiet and I have no idea about what to do about it. Idk why I sent this to you, but I feel like you can help?
Mate I’m really sorry to hear that, but I am just another person at the other end of the internet. I’m not an authority or someone set up to offer support to strangers.
I can redirect you to emotional baggage check which is a good anonymous way to let off a bit of steam if that’s what you need. If you are looking for other forms of support with your mental health/approved forums then have a look at MIND . It’s a UK charity so some of it may not be applicable if you live elsewhere, but regardless there are a lot of helpful resources about mental health and well-being in general that are clear and easy to navigate. It could be a good starting point if you feel you may need to open up a dialogue about how you are feeling with someone who is more proximate and knows you.
It’s great to reach out for help when you’re struggling and I fully encourage you to do this, but it’s important to make sure you seek out the appropriate person who really is equipped to give you the support you deserve.
Believe me or not guys but the people from the Boris Boulangerie are so cute.
They don’t know that the actual Dupain-Cheng bakery is based after their own shop!
And they were so shy and flattered about this. They said there was an english-speaking person who came once saying the exact same thing but they’re not even sure if it’s not a joke??
I had to show them an actual picture of the show!
And not only that but the lady who took care of us was chinese and I was like Sabine is that you??? but it turns out she has another colleague who looks exactly like Sabine Cheng from the pic we showed her!! She was like “Yes she has the exact same haircut and everything!”
She wasn’t there though but the chinese lady was so flattered that the whole bakery was made after the Boris Boulangerie and aaaaaah but she was too shy to take a pic with me I’m screaming!! So all you’re gonna get is a picture of me and Mr. Box.
Asked for macarons though!! And it turns out they don’t make those sadly but I took a shit load of other things. Literally invested 20€ of treats in there.
Edit: They sell quiches though and that definitely calls for a very loud #letadrieneat2k16
Rumbelle members of the ABC Advisory panel: They started doing surveys again and asked why we think the ratings for Once are dropping. Time to tell them we hate the Kitowitz writing. What they are doing with rumbelle, the horrible GQ story. Belle being paired with Killy and Zelena.