#it turned out they thought i was using a super off the track address rather than my aunts place that is right on the road lmao

[creekfiend]

I received a very funny phone call today from the pizza place that was like "do you REALLY want us to bring this all the way to your HOUSE"

#it turned out they thought i was using a super off the track address rather than my aunts place that is right on the road lmao #i was so confused #me comma hesitantly: what is the alternative

[manykinsmen]

So I'm curious; what is your opinion of Nico Hülkenberg?

He seems to be a very divisive figure, with a lot of people on here calling him misogynistic and annoying. I've only ever seen people call him this and not what they are refering to, so I've always been a bit confused. I should probably do some Googling, but at first I honestly thought it was just Mick fans that didn't like him coming in last year and that was why. But the hate has kinda continued, and I don't really know why.

I think the contrast was especially big when in 2020 everyone loved super sub Hulk and wanted him to get a seat, and then in 2023 when he finally got one people were really upset.

I used to find him annoying, but now I just mostly see him as a go with the flow type of guy, who jokes around a lot. Like Daniel actually.

What is your opinion on him and everything?

So in terms of him being a misogynist here’s a (not entirely up to date) run down.

What I would say in my completely unprofessional opinion is - is any of this egregious or usual compared to the average cis white straight human male? No. Obviously it’s not cool and something he needs to work on but is he actively a danger to women around him? Probably not. The drivers are all (I should hope) pretty media trained and Nico has one of the higher rates of foot in mouth disease (although as always, I will point out English is not his first language). This probably comes from most of the drivers being some level of meterosexual whereas Nico is a bloke TM and guards his masculinity very closely - pretty similar to Checo, Pierre, or 2014 Lewis.

There’s also unsubstantiated rumours that Nico is/has at some point cheated on Egle, but I will emphasise that no evidence has ever been provided to support this, and often Nico is not even named specifically in various blind items. Cheating can be misogynistic, and if you already have a reputation in this area people may assume it is the cause, but that is not necessarily the case.

Something to add to this that I’ve noticed is that drivers with wives or long term girlfriends, and especially with children, typically come under more flack for misogyny than other drivers. We collectively ought to examine that. It becomes easier to hold a person to account when we can attach a specific face to a more nebulous sense of victims of misogynistic behaviour. It becomes he should know better he has a wife rather than he should know better in general, letting drivers that don’t have a long term partner off the hook. This is a problem of specificity but also it can be a problem of assuming familiarity with the way in which particular relationships and family dynamics work. It can become a catch-22 where the husband is in the wrong of the wife still works and is also in the wrong if she doesn’t, or whether the family travel with them or stay home. It’s also why I never ever assume a rumour about cheating to be true unless I hear it directly from the parties involved - I am polyamorous myself and from the outside looking in, many fully consensual arrangements can appear to be cheating when we assume the nature and rules of a relationship we are not involved in.

To address the other part of your question, honestly I think the problem with people’s turn on Nico as a driver is two-fold and neither of them are an issue specific to him. Firstly, it’s hard to be a backmarker or even midfield driver. These are collectively incredibly talented drivers who, with a small handful of exceptions, could all pull out a win with the right car, the right track and the right conditions, even in the face of all these other talents. Backmarker and midfield drivers often wind up being punished for problems with the car, the strategy, or inter-team politics. At the end of the day, no one will remember an excellent bit of driving long term if it didn’t result in a win or some other tangible result.

Likewise taking a backmarker seat can be something of a poisoned chalice. In any seat, at any team, in pretty much all circumstances (although their is some leeway if you are a rookie or replacing a world champion) are expected to outperform whoever you have replaced, but that car might have gone backwards in its relative capabilities. The pressure is intensified in backmarker teams who might not score any points all season and therefore have no real metric of understanding driver performance (except in relation to their teammate). The last thing a failing team with no money to put into car development wants to hear is this is the best this shitbox can do, so the driver often ends up being booted. This is why it’s rare to see backmarker lineups remain consistent for longer than a couple of years. Whilst people might have been excited to see Nico come in believing he could pull off a miracle, two years in is a long time in a team like Haas and both team and viewer patience wears thin. There is always someone who hypothetically could do better (although in reality they usually couldn’t). It becomes a grass is greener.

Nico has had a difficult career and has never driven at a front marker team. Like Kevin he had a couple of shining moments (his pole position) that convinced a few people of his talent but has never been in a position to deliver much. Nico as a taller driver specifically suffered under the more restrictive driver weight regulations (he would have been picked up by McLaren in 2014, the seat which ironically went to rookie Kevin, but concerns were raised that he was too heavy). So a lot of it in Nico’s career has just been bad luck.

The supersub era allowed Nico to garner support and goodwill for a few reasons. Firstly, a reserve driver stepping up even if they have previously been on the grid will always be novel and interesting. Under Covid in particular, Nico was regarded as essentially doing an act of service for Formula One without being a real challenger for a seat. He was familiar and non-threatening and people thought his F1 career was over, so he could sub in for favourites without people being worried he would steal them from their favourite. It was also deeply, deeply memeable (especially to us kinksters). By actually getting into another seat, that no threatening bubble effectively burst, leaving him open to criticism and anger.

#nico hulkenberg

[writing-for-life]

Thank you for an amazing 2023!

About metas, fics and sparkly things…

This won’t be short, but you wouldn’t expect that from me, would you? 🤣

I’ve been on Tumblr for just a bit over a year because I needed to get off my family’s back after my three decades long Sandman brain-rot got worse again due to the Netflix series. I hovered around a handful of followers for months until things exploded (I still don’t know why tbh, I think it was one particular meta that kicked things off a bit), and I somehow ended up with hundreds of followers, which might not be much to some, but it’s a lot for me.

So to all of you I’d like to say: Thank you for being here. I don’t always manage to stay on top of things because my notifs are a mess and I lose track, plus I have a rather busy life and can often only write in batches and then queue, but each of you is appreciated, even if I accidentally forget to get back to you or if we aren’t mutuals.

I’ve made such lovely connections over the last year—my interest in The Sandman definitely does not align with the main focus that shan’t be named, and I’m glad that you folks are out there. You probably know who you are.

Now to the obligatory “your posts wrapped” thing—and I’m only doing it because I need to make a point (of course I do 🤣).

News and art

My by far most successful posts have been casting/shooting news and pretty pictures (two examples are linked). And I’m grateful for all the reblogs and likes of those, but apart from curating them, they’re not really me. They’re someone else’s work.

Meta analysis

Then you have my metas, which make up the bulk of the other posts that are doing quite well (you can find all of them in my pinned post).

Even if it wasn’t my most “successful” one (what does that even mean?), this one meant the most to me:

I love writing metas, whether they cover literary concepts, psychology, music or art because I’m a permanently brain-frazzled multi-hyphenate who has to talk about everything that won’t leave her alone.

I also love when you’re sending me asks btw. For the latter, I hope they pick up again in 2024 because they really nosedived since I switched off anonymous asks (which I won’t change, soz) after some people just thought it’s good sport to be an arse about my not being here to pray at the altar of the ship. I guess we have briefly covered the ugly side of Tumblr, too, then.

Writing

But what I'm most proud of when I think of all the things I've done in 2023 is my fiction and poetry. And that's both a happy and slightly sad thing to address.

My 31 Haikus for Sandtober started as a bit of fun, but they’ve developed a life of their own, and people seemingly liked them. The post also contains a bit of my fan-art:

I still intend to turn them into a hardcover at some point, but I won’t be able to create all the artwork myself, so if you’re a fan-artist and want to know what I’m thinking of, please get in touch (I’ll still talk about this in more detail at some point though).

The other thing I’m incredibly proud of is “The Light of Stars”.

I started it as a NaNoWriMo project in 2022 (I always use NaNo to do something that is less stressful than my professional writing projects), wrote it in a bit more than a month—and then did nothing with near 80,000 words until June 2023.

And then I thought “Fuck it,” and published it on Ao3. It’s a canon x OC fic, and this is where it gets a bit sad. Because for most of us writers, these are never the posts that get most engagement (the ratio is really something like 100 : 1 — 500 for a shitpost, 5 for an average writing post).

On Ao3, it gradually picked up because I published chapter after chapter, and I think I can say that it’s done fairly well over there in terms of engagement for an OC fic, and above all how people engage with it. Because it’s a bit deeper despite being romance, it deals with heavy topics like grief, and I’m so glad to have touched a few people’s hearts with it, and that it was meaningful to them. So much so that you all convinced me to write a sequel.

But here’s the thing: The general engagement with writing, especially non-explicit, non-ship, non-readerY/N on Tumblr is very, very low.

Writers who write canon x OC are still struggling to be heard through the noise (it’s not just me, I’ve had many conversations about this, so I’ll just say: I’ll speak for many of us). There are basically hardly any events for us to participate in (most of us only ever do so if we shift to canon one-shots, poetry or metas. If we don’t: Again, no one cares), and fandom often actively chooses to ignore us because “all OCs are self-inserts, ew.” Which is patently not true, and I could go on a long rant now why many canon x canon fics are very obvious self-inserts, which I won’t.

But even if all OCs were self-inserts, even if all characters were—so what? All writing is to a degree based on self-insertion because it comes from our brains—it’s not a bad thing. But apparently, it becomes a bad thing if the character is an OC, heaven knows why.

So if I had one wish (I’m allowed one, right?) for 2024, it would be that people engage more with OC fics and include them more in community events. That fandom, which prides itself in community, includes writers who don’t write for (the main) ship/s a bit more, especially if they don’t write smut (which I personally even do professionally, but I don’t want to have to do it in fanfic just to get engagement). I’m not holding my breath because I know that’s not where fandom’s oft single-minded focus lies, but a girl can dream, right?

And with that, I want to get to my proudest accomplishments of them all:

Being the curator queen of the sparkle realms:

Being one (arguably the main) instigator of the maddest crack ship that has ever graced (?) the face of the earth, spawned the most unhinged discussion (much truth in it though 🤣) and even NSFW fanart. I promise I’ll write that fic about Murphy and his Cool Hat:

Have a lovely 2024!

#2023 wrapped #the sandman #sandman #sandman meta #sandman fanfiction #sandman fanart #sparkle content #sparklecontent #murphy and his cool hat

[soft-bellied-tannies]

The Final Performance

Read here or on AO3!

While he would never say they were a co-dependent couple, Yoongi hated that he was rolling up to his parent’s house without Jimin. They tried to make the schedule work out, but Jimin was in a busy season at work and Yoongi could not talk his way out of their 30th-anniversary dinner. He may not be super close with his family, but he still wanted to celebrate important things with them. 

Jimin sent him off with all the kisses and hugs he could handle plus a very eventful date night before he left that involved a homecooked meal, a quart of ice cream, a can of whipped cream, and a blowjob. No wonder Yoongi woke up bloated with Jimin wrapped around him like an octopus.

Yoongi braced himself for the incoming comments from his family, expecting awkwardness from his parents and teasing from his brother. They knew he had gained a bit when they saw him a few Christmases ago, back when it was barely fifteen pounds from genuine relationship weight.

Since he had last been home, Yoongi and Jimin had discovered a few things about each other - mainly that Jimin was very good at keeping Yoongi well-fed. Two years and eighty pounds later, Yoongi was carrying around a lot more of himself and his relationship with Jimin had never been stronger. 

After letting himself into the house, Yoongi waited anxiously for someone to make an appearance until he was startled by his mother’s arms around him. He tried not to flinch at the sudden touch and turned to properly hug her, waiting for some kind of comment. 

“I can’t believe you are really here; I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages, dear,” his mother said, sounding slightly choked up in a way Yoongi was not expecting. 

“It’s good to see you, Mom. Happy Anniversary,” he responded, still holding the embrace. 

As she pulled away, his mother kept her hands on his shoulders and looked him up and down in that motherly way, surprising him with a nod of approval. “I see our Jimin is taking care of you well.” 

Yoongi felt his cheeks warm, not expecting an underlying compliment from her even as she addressed his new size. “Um, yeah, he really is.” 

Before she could add any further comment, his father entered the room and to Yoongi’s surprise, had the same kind of reaction. Hugging him in an affectionate way that was very unlike his typically stoic father with a similar comment in regard to Jimin. 

“Well, I guess that Jimin must be a good cook, huh?” 

He stared for a moment while trying to not get flustered and nodded with a quiet hum. His father just laughed and patted his shoulder while telling him that he could take his stuff upstairs to get settled. 

The walk across the house was quiet aside from the creaking floorboards that were much more used to the lithe weight of teenage Yoongi rather than the heavier steps he carried now. Sometimes, it was the little things that made the weight even more satisfying.

Yoongi ascended the stairs of his childhood home, something he had done countless times in his life, and yet, for the first time, he felt winded once he reached the top. Even though his parents were far enough down the hall not to hear a thing, Yoongi tried to minimize his breathing until he reached his own room. 

Once the door closed behind him, he let out a long breath and sat heavily on his old desk chair. Yoongi stared down at his watch and tracked the few minutes it took for him to 'catch' his breath. 

There were only two thoughts on his mind. 

Shit, I'm getting fat and I can't wait to tell Jimin. 

Just as he grabbed his phone to send a quick text, he heard footsteps quickly approaching his door. Yoongi stood from his chair and instinctively adjusted his sweatshirt, smoothing it down slightly so it didn’t make him look as big as he was. A weird sense of insecurity suddenly hit knowing that his brother was about to see him. 

Without even a small warning of his presence, Yoongi’s bedroom door swung open revealing his brother who paused and looked at him before smirking. “Damn, have you eaten every lamb skewer in Seoul or what?” 

“Yah, respect your hyung,” Yoongi replied, tone light as he pulled his brother in for a hug and tried to hide the embarrassment that he had been expecting all along. He stepped back with a little yelp when his brother pinched his plump side above his waistband. 

“Putting the big in big brother, hyung,” he quipped, jumping away before Yoongi could get his hands on him. 

Yoongi knew his face was on fire now as he stared down his brother. The tone of his voice was helping though, not sounding judgmental, just brotherly cajoling. Jimin was always telling him to give their family and friends more credit, but Yoongi couldn’t help that little spike of anxiety sometimes.

The teasing grin on his brother’s face certainly did help quell that lingering bit of panic though. He tried his best to let it go and simply lean into the brotherly banter, hoping that a positive report will earn him a few rewards from Jimin.

“Shut up, you brat.” 

“Back at ya, chubs,” his brother cut back, winking as he backed out of the room. He was laughing, a sign for Yoongi that it was all in good faith. “I hope you save some dinner for me.”

Shaking his head, Yoongi focused on unpacking his bag as he tried to calm his racing heart. A small part of him had been freaking out to come home, expecting looks of disapproval and hints about diets and workout routines. He certainly wasn’t mad about his family being oddly supportive, but now he felt bad for all those nights he spent complaining to Jimin. 

Thinking about Jimin brought Yoongi back to a thought that had crossed his mind on the trip down - remembering the things he had left behind at his parent’s house including a closet full of clothes that didn’t make the cut for his college move. 

Yoongi filed through the hangers in this closet and found an old button-down he used to wear for piano recitals, one that Jimin had commented on before when they went through old photos. His partner had always joked about how much of a miracle it would be if he could button that shirt now.

After announcing to his family that he was going to jump in the shower and closing his bedroom door, Yoongi stripped off his oversized hoodie and grabbed the suddenly tiny-looking shirt. He went into his attached bathroom, closing that door behind as well to have two barriers between him and his family milling around the house. 

Yoongi knew his partner wouldn't be opposed to witnessing the likely final performance for his dress clothes. He set up his phone on the counter and hit record before starting to pull the shirt on without even giving the video an intro. Jimin didn’t need commentary to enjoy his little show.

The shirt already felt tight just going up his arms, squeezing his soft skin in the fabric. Yoongi heard a quiet creak in the threads as it pulled across his shoulders, feeling as though it was ready to snap even before he attempted the buttons. 

Yoongi let out a terse sigh as he rolled his shoulders and felt the tight seams constrict his movement. The shirt was hanging open, looking like buttoning it would be impossible as his round gut hung out the front. 

Suddenly, he remembered that the rest of this suit should be hanging in his closet as well. He looked into the camera with a little smirk and said, “I’ll be right back, love.” 

Ambling out of frame, Yoongi rifled through his clothes until he found the matching pants that he had worn many times throughout performances at his arts high school. The pants looked laughably small and he was very much looking forward to seeing just how small they were. The suit jacket seemed to be missing from its place next to the rest of his outfit, but Yoongi had remembered bringing it with him up to Seoul and slowly moving it to Jimin's side of the closet once the weight started to pack on.

Stepping back into the bathroom and closing the door behind him, Yoongi immediately bent to pull the pants on and heard another protest from the shirt around his shoulders. He knew the instant he started to bring the waistband up his legs that the pants were never going to fit. His legs looked like they were wrapped in sausage casing instead of a cotton blend. 

Yoongi took a firm grip on the waistband and pulled a few times, bringing them closer to where they should properly sit. He went up on his toes, hefting his weight in an impromptu jump because he didn’t want to make too much noise. 

With little success in that move, he started to shimmy back and forth and inched the pants slightly higher with each attempt. Yoongi felt his body warming up from the exertion, a bit of sweat building up on his upper lip and brow. 

Deciding he needed a little more force, Yoongi finally jumped a little landing on his toes to reduce the sound of him landing after each little attempt. He let out a quiet ‘oof’ when the heavy weight of his stomach bounced back down with gravity’s push. 

On the final jump, the sound of fabric ripping filled the room as Yoongi ripped the two belt loops he had been firmly grasping from where they were connected. He stumbled a bit as he lost his grip on the pants, a muffled ‘shit’ coming from his mouth as he turned side to side inspecting the damage. 

Yoongi didn’t realize how heavy his breathing was until he came to a stop, needing to actually catch his breath for the second time since he came upstairs. He placed his hands on his hips and stared right at the camera, knowing well that his clothes looked comedically small on his body. 

“Fuck, Min, I am out of shape,” Yoongi admitted before wiping his forehead and returning to his efforts. 

Finally pulling his pants over his ass, Yoongi took one look at the button in the mirror and gave up on even the thought of buttoning them. The open v of his waistband was already straining against his wide hips and thighs, the button stretched inches away from the clasp. 

He brought his focus back to his shirt, pulling each side forward a bit at a time until there was no more give around his shoulders. Giving it a testing tug, Yoongi brought the middle button toward the corresponding hole and found that it was about two inches away from closing. 

Yoongi cleared all the air from his lungs and took a deep breath, sucking in as much of his soft middle as physically possible. He pulled both sides of the fabric with all his strength and moved as fast as he could to close three of the buttons in one breath. 

His fingers fumbled around as there was still resistance, but after the third button went through into its hold, Yoongi had to relax. The muscles in his abdomen revolted from trying to hold in the weight of his belly. 

Exhaling in one long breath and allowing his stomach to surge forward had exactly the effect Yoongi was going for as the button at the widest crest of his belly held on for just moments before the thread ripped away and shot the little piece of plastic straight at his phone. 

The heavy breathing returned for a much different reason this time around. He looked at the camera for a brief moment, giving his partner a wink before picking it up and strategically giving Jimin the perfect angle of his belly peaking through the ripped fabric as he turned the recording off. 

With no hesitation, Yoongi sent the video to Jimin and turned on the water to warm the shower. He fought his way out of the tight clothing and instantly had to get his hands on himself while thinking of Jimin’s reaction to his little gift. 

The pants were just as much of a problem coming off as they were getting on. Yoongi was huffing and puffing as he had to eventually sit down to yank the fabric off his legs. Getting the shirt off was a reprieve on his shoulders and arms which were likely losing circulation at that point.

He barely had time to compose himself because as Yoongi was stepping into the shower and thinking about how his partner would react if he were here, Jimin’s face lit up the screen of his phone. 

Not caring that his hands were wet and that his chest was still heaving for even breaths, Yoongi answered and was pleased to hear that it had the same effect on Jimin when he heard the state of his voice. 

“Baby…”

The husky tone of Jimin’s voice sent a shiver down Yoongi’s spine as he listened to his partner give all of his thoughts about the video. Jimin demanded he brought more clothes home for a live show and whispered all the things he had planned as he talked him through their shared climaxes. 

All Yoongi could hope was that his family didn’t hear his pre-dinner activities. And if they did, maybe a little pre-shower workout would be a logical excuse because obviously, he had a few extra calories to burn.

#bts weight gain #chubby bts #bts feedism #chubby yoongi #implied feeder jimin #soft bellied tannies

[cjsinkythoughts]

The Conversation

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 7661 (Don’t come at me - you guys asked for it)

Warnings: !FATWS Spoilers!, Cursing, Fluff, Feelings, I Dunno What Else, This One’s Pretty Chill, Except The Ending, But You’ll See When You Get There

A/N: Here it is! I was hesitant about posting it because that means we’re getting closer to the end and I’m such a nostalgic bitch! I’m definitely gonna cry next week when the last episode comes out! Anyways, I’ve got a few things to talk about:

I think this is one of the most important chapters I’ve written and I’m excited to see your reactions to it. It is longer, but you guys asked for that, so you got it! Also, I’m loving the Asks, Comments, and Reblogs. I try to respond to all of them. I have work in a little bit, so I won’t be able to until after, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Ask me anything; about my series, the show, any of the movies, personal stuff, I really don’t care. If you’re not comfortable, that’s totally fine! Every like means so much to me!

I know it’s not the end yet - we’ve got one more episode and a list of One Shots to get through - but there’s a definite feeling of this series coming to an end, and I just want to thank you all for the support and love you’ve been giving it! I’ve really enjoyed writing these characters and this story! It’s very, very special to me and I’m glad I’ve been able to share it with you lovely people!

On that note, be kind to yourselves and others! Thank you again for reading! Excuse any mistakes - this isn’t beta’d! Enjoy and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT! (Sorry for the gifs I just love them so much and he’s so pretty and this part is technically two parts so...you get four!)

“Louisiana.” Bucky hummed, looking around the airport.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not gonna find anything interesting about Louisiana in here, doofus. Let’s call an Uber.”

“An Ooper? What the hell is an Ooper?”

You giggled, shaking your head and grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the luggage carousel. “Uber. It’s like…a taxi service. But there’s an app on your phone to get a driver instead of waiting for one on the street.”

“Oh.” He blinked, tilting his head. “That’s…helpful.”

You laughed again, stopping in front of Carousel 3, where your flight from New York was assigned. You went back to New York to grab a bag with clean clothes and other necessities, along with taking a real shower for once. It was nice to be back in the States, as much as you loved traveling. It’d been a crazy few weeks and you were ready to just relax.

“Do you think there were any problems with Sammy’s present?”

Bucky shook his head. “Nah. Especially considering they know who we are.”

You snickered at his slight grumble. They had had…problems at the other two airports - first the one in Sokovia then JFK in New York - considering Bucky’s entire arm was metal. It’d taken a full hour before they actually let you go, and by that time they had to give you a new plane because yours had left.

“Seriously. Who else has a fucking metal arm and has 1917 listed as their birth year on their Driver’s License?” You giggled again. That was also true. They thought he was messing with them. It wasn’t until you stepped in a few minutes after they asked Bucky to step to the side, seeing Bucky get frustrated, that they realized Bucky wasn’t pulling their legs.

“Well, we’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

He nodded in agreement, watching for your bags, his hand finding yours when he realized how many people there were. “Do you know where he lives? I didn’t even think about it.”

“Yeah, don’t worry. He invited me over once. I declined, but I saved the address.”

“He…invited you over?” Bucky frowned.

You gave him a look. “I’m sure he invited you, too. You just never checked his texts.”

He licked his lips, tilting his head. “Yeah, no, I know, but I mean…why didn’t you go? Weren’t you two just talking about how you wanted to meet his nephews the other day?”

“Yeah, but I had gotten a tip on Wanda at the time and I didn’t want to miss the chance that she was there. He told me it was fine. I still felt really bad. I could tell he was a bit disappointed. I think it was one of the boys’ birthdays. Or something. I don’t remember. Is that bad? Yeah, probably. I really should remember. Maybe I should keep track of birthdays on my calendar or something.”

“Doll.” You looked up to find him giving you a magnificent smile, teeth and all. “You’re rambling.”

“Oh. Am I? Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

He shook his head quickly, squeezing your hand. “Don’t apologize. It’s cute. I’m just not used to you talking so much. You kinda did on the phone sometimes.”

You shrugged, pushing down the heat crawling up your neck at his words. “I rambled a lot to Steve.”

“Oh.”

His face fell, making you scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion, nudging him slightly to grin at him. “It’s nice to have someone to ramble to again, though.” There was that smile again. You were stopped from saying anything more when you noticed some kids pointing and chattering excitedly at a gleaming silver box coming around the corner on the conveyor belt. “There it is.”

He looked over his shoulder, dropping your hand and stepping over to grab it, lifting it effortlessly. You didn’t know what was in it or how heavy it was, but you were sure it felt like a feather to him.

“Alright. Got our bag, sweetheart?” You lifted up the duffle in answer and he jerked his head towards the doors. “Let’s get outta here, then. Call that Booper or whatever.”

“U-B-E-R! Ub-er!” You threw your hands up, following him as he started walking towards the exit. “What’s so hard about it?!”

He just gave you a little smirk over his shoulder.

***************

Bucky kept asking the Uber driver questions about his job. The guy was super nice and patient the whole time, a thick southern accent lacing his answers. Southern hospitality was no joke and apparently had no limit as Bucky asked about his experiences, listening intently and telling him his own stories of taxi drivers in NYC.

When you got to Sam’s sister’s house, Bucky, being Bucky, tipped the driver half of what you paid for the ride, thanking him for his time and energy, before getting out.

“You’re so adorable, you know that?” You teased him as you stepped up the porch stairs and knocked on the door.

He rolled his eyes, a tint of pink dusting across his cheeks. “He was nice.”

You hummed at his defense, the smile never leaving your features. After a moment, Bucky raised his fist to knock again. “Jesus Christ! Don’t fucking knock their door down!” You grabbed his wrist and lowered it.

“Sorry. I forget sometimes.” Bucky informed you absentmindedly,  tilting his head to peek in the window. “I don’t think anyone’s home.”

“They’re probably at the docks, then.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “The docks?”

You nodded, gesturing for him to follow you. “Yeah. They have a boat, remember? He talked about it last week.”

“Oh right. The one he’s trying to convince his sister not to sell.”

“Yeah.” You confirmed. “I’m pretty sure it’s that way. I don’t know how far, but we can call the Uber back-”

Bucky scrunched up his face and shook his head. “Nah. I don’t wanna bother him again. We can walk.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “It’s literally his job to drive people around.”

“Well, yeah, but what if he’s got other people to drive?”

You lifted his metal knuckles to your lips. “Trust me, Buck, I’m sure he’d rather drive you than anyone else.”

“Thank you?”

Swinging your now linked hands, you gave a firm nod, letting him know it was, in fact, a compliment. “You are so very welcome.”

The walk was a lot longer than you thought it was, and you ended up on Bucky’s back after he kept complaining about how you “shouldn’t be walking this long” and you were “injured” and you “needed rest’”. You’re not sure how a shoulder wound affected your ability to walk, but you relented and let him carry you the rest of the way to stop his whining.

“You forget, you did pull your thigh.”

“That was, like, three weeks ago! Yeesh!”

You finally got to the docks, which were bustling with people. Bucky set you down and raised an eyebrow which you shrugged in reply to, before heading over to where you spotted Sam with a few other older men.

“How do we get it off the truck?” You heard Sam ask, pointing to a large boat engine part in the bed of a beaten up truck. Scoffing as Bucky lifted it up without breaking a sweat, you leaned against the truck. Bucky grunted and set it down, looking at Sam.

“You’re welcome.” What a punk. “Just dropping this off.” Bucky lifted the case and set it where the engine was previously, Sam coming to stand on the opposite side of the truck as you. “You can sign for it and I’ll go.” You snorted, shaking your head, making Bucky shove your shoulder - the uninjured one - playfully. “I called in a favor from the Wakandans.”

Sam looked at you curiously. You shrugged and shook your head. “Don’t look at me, Sammy. He wouldn’t tell me what it is. He’s all hushy hushy about it until you say so.”

Before Sam could reply, there was a squeak and hissing over at the boat where steam was coming from a few pipes.

“Sam!” You knew that was Sarah from pictures Sam showed you. You stayed up by the truck, pulling yourself onto the bed while Sam tried fixing the pipe, Bucky butting in to show him how to do it properly.

“Why didn’t you use the metal arm?”

You saw Bucky lift up said metallic limb. “Well…I don’t always think of it immediately. I’m-I’m right handed.” Letting out a laugh, Bucky turned around and scowled teasingly at you. “And what’re you laughing at?!”

“Nothing!”

“Well then get your ass over here!”

You rolled your eyes, hopping down from the truck as Bucky asked if Sam wanted help with the boat. You leaned against a wooden post, grinning when Sam looked at you.

“I don’t have any plans.”

Sam gave a small smile, jerking his head back. “Yeah.”

You jumped down onto the boat to follow him, looking over your shoulder and stopping with an amused eyebrow raised as Bucky introduced himself to Sarah. “I’m Bucky.”

“Ah…Sarah.”

“Sarah.” Bucky repeated her name, before walking towards you, a grin still on his lips.

“Careful, Barnes. That playboy Steve warned me about is coming out.” You nudged him with a smirk, ignoring the feeling of your stomach dropping.

He rolled his eyes, kissing your head as he passed you and Sam to go where Sam was gesturing. “Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re still my doll.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, falling into step besides you and lowering his voice. “Conversation?”

“Hasn’t happened.” You informed him through clenched teeth as he groaned.

Sam gave you a list of chores that needed to be done to clean up the boat, giving you a quick tour and letting you know where all the tools needed where. You set to work immediately.

Sanding down, replacing old parts, cleaning, polishing and painting over the things that didn’t need replacing. They didn’t let you do any heavy lifting because of your stupid shoulder, but you were still able to help.

Sam had turned on some music for you to listen to, so you danced around the boat while cleaning. Turning your head when you felt a pair of eyes on you, you smiled when Bucky snapped his head back down to the wood he was sanding down.

“Gonna dance, Barnes?”

He looked back over, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m good watching you.”

Rolling your eyes, you got back to work, continuing to bop to the music, fully aware that he was watching you now.

A little while later, you were repainting the edges of the boat orange, when you looked over and noticed Bucky playing around with a paint scraper…sitting right on the edge that you had just finished repainting a few minutes ago.

“Buck!”

He looked over, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your mischievous grin. Shaking your head, you waved dismissively. “Never mind!”

He gave you a confused sort of pout, before shrugging and continuing to fidget with the tool. It wasn’t until later when he got up to help Sam tear the metal plating off the edge that it came to light with Sam chuckling and raising an eyebrow.

“Sit in something there, Barnes?”

“What?”

Bucky craned his neck back, eyes widening when he saw the orange paint on his ass, contrasting with his jeans. You let out a cackle and he whipped towards you, pointing at you accusingly, although the small uptick of his lips let you know he wasn’t really mad.

“Y/N!”

“No, no, no!” You laughed, sprinting across the deck, shrieking when he grabbed your waist and spun you around. You gasped when he grabbed a paint brush and painted an orange stripe right down the front of your shirt. “James!”

“Justice, sweetheart.” He breathed in your ear with a chuckle.

You shook your head, wiggling out of his hold. “This is a nice shirt!”

“You should’ve thought about that before.” He smirked, crossing his arms. Your eyes caught sight of Sam behind him, who raised an eyebrow and the bucket of paint he was holding. You nodded with a little giggle, making Bucky’s eyes narrow. “What’s so funny over there, do - holy shit!

You guffawed as orange paint dripped down his head, Sam standing innocently behind him with the now empty bucket behind his back. “Samuel!”

“Oops?”

“I’m gonna kill you!”

“Try me old man!”

“Fuck!

“Doll!”

“Oh my God!”

Paint, orange and white since those were the only cans they had out, flew across the deck, paint brushes being used like fencing swords.

You found out too late that wet paint was a little bit slippery and you slid on a huge puddle, sending you, not onto the ground below, but over the side of the edge into the water. 

“Doll!”

“Cher, you good?!” 

The three of you looked at each other, stunned for a moment, before bursting into fits of laughter and you nodded. “I’m good!”

The boys helped you get back up onto the dock, Sarah appearing with towels she conjured up out of thin air. “Let’s get you into dry clothes. Do you have-?”

“We’ve got some. We got a bag.” You told her with a grin, facing the guys. “You two should clean up some, too. Sammy, you’ve got a little something right there.” You pointed to your cheek, his own having a giant white splotch from his temple to his jaw. “And Buck?” You sniggered, gesturing to the whole of him. “You’ve got a lotta something right there.” 

“Ha. Ha.” He looked down. His top was practically tiger print, drenched in orange with white here and there, and his ass still orange as well. His hair, which had been plastered to his forehead, was starting to dry now, and it only made you laugh some more thinking about what a pain it’d be to get it out. For him, at least.

“God. Can’t even have a relaxing day on the boat with you two.” Sam jested once you finished up and joined him and Bucky, who had just finished dumping out some water buckets. Bucky had changed his shirt and it looked like they tried wiping their faces, but Sam still had small lines of white down his face. “How ‘bout a couple of drinks? Surely you can’t ruin that too.”

“Ruin?” You gasped in mock offence. “Sammy! I just made the day more…interesting.”

Sam chuckled, ruffling Bucky’s hair, which still had orange streaks in it. “Let’s go get some beers.”

************

You chatted for a bit, mainly you and Sam with you asking how Sarah and the boys were while Bucky with your legs in his lap, just listening to you two and sipping at his bottle. You had his hand in your own lap, wiping it down with a rag due to the paint that got on it.

“You’re lucky this is vibranium, you know.” You commented off handedly. “If it was your other one, it’d definitely get stained.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Bucky shot back with a teasing grin.

“Sammy’s.”

Sam spluttered. “Wh-what?! You started it!” You laughed, shaking your head.

Falling into a comfortable silence with just the water and birds chirping as your soundtrack, you downed the rest of your drink, which Bucky took as finished. “Well,” you moved your legs to let him stand up. He leaned forwards to clink his bottle against Sam’s and you stood up and stretched. “Gotta catch our flight tomorrow. Get a hotel room for the night.” Sam gave you a look to which you rolled your eyes at as Bucky set down his bottle and grabbed his jacket. “Crash, you know?”

“So you’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”

“Well I don’t wanna make it weird for your family.”

“Just stay here.” You laughed as Sam babbled on about how nice the people were here, grabbing the jacket Bucky handed to you. It was getting a bit chilly from the breeze on the water and the sun going down. Plus, that water was cold.

“But don’t flirt with my sister.”

You cackled at Bucky’s face, that turned serious, his head shaking. “No.”

“‘Cause if you do I’ll have Carlos cut you up and feed you to the fish.”

“Can’t hold back the dog, Wilson. It’s been stuck in a kennel too long.”

Bucky turned to you, grabbing your jaw and squishing your cheeks together. “You know what? You need to shush. You’ve been snippy all day.”

You just smiled as innocently as you could with your lips being held by his metal fingers. “You’re too fun to mess with.”

He pecked your nose. “As long as I’m the only one you’re messing with. I’ll be right back.” He let you go and spun around, maneuvering around the boat in a way only a trained assassin could do.

“Oh my God, please! Please just put me out of my fucking misery! You’re killing me, cher.”

“What?” You gaped at him.

“Don’t act innocent!” Sam huffed, giving you a pointed look. “If I have to watch you two make googly eyes at you one more fucking day with neither of you doing anything about it-”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh come on, Sammy-”

“Don’t ‘come on, Sammy’ me! And don’t come at me with that ‘he doesn’t like me back’ bullshit. If you think for a second that boy wouldn’t follow you to the depths of the fucking ocean, you’re blind as a bat, woman.”

You shrugged, pushing up the sleeves of Bucky’s too big jacket. “It just…hasn’t come up.”

He deadpanned, shaking his head and standing up. “That’s it. I’m done. You two are driving me insane. I’m gonna lock you in a room until you have the conversation that needs to be had the next time either of you does something stupid.”

“Yikes. That’s gonna be quick.” At his look, your smile dropped and you nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll…I’ll bring it up later.”

“Tomorrow or nothing.”

“Sam-”

Sam tilted his head, brow creasing. “Is it still Steve? Is that what this is still about? Because he’s gone, and he’s been gone and you need to get over it-”

“No. It’s not…” You sighed. “It clicked the other day. When we were hanging out. Steve left and, yeah, I might always love him, but Bucky…God…I love Bucky, Sam.”

The man grinned proudly. “I’m glad to finally hear you admit it. So what’s the problem?”

“It’s still complicated, right? I mean…he’s his best friend and I’ve never dealt with stuff like this before and-”

Sam’s smile dropped and he groaned again. “Imma head out. I can’t take this. Dumbass and dumberass. I swear to God.” You sniggered a bit as he grumbled, walking towards the ramp to climb off the boat, just as Bucky reappeared.

“Hey-”

“Nope! Not right now, Barnes! I can’t handle it! I can’t!”

Bucky gave you a weird look. “What’d you do?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Nothing.”

“Well, c’mon, doll. Sarah said she’s gonna make gumbo for us, whatever that is.” He held out his hand as you walked over. 

“You’re such a city boy.” You teased lightly, taking his hand and letting him help you pull you onto the dock. You shoved the sleeves of his jackets up again since they slipped from the first time. “Let’s go get some dinner. I’m starving.”

******************

“We have the couch and a mattress we can pull out, I just have to make Sam get it from the attic-”

“That’s alright. The couch is fine.” Bucky waved dismissively while you nodded in agreement.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at you two. “For both of you?”

You blinked, exchanging a look with Bucky, before shrugging and turning back to her. “Yeah.”

“Don’t fight it, Sarah.” Sam peeked out from the hall. “They’ve got a weird relationship.” You stuck your tongue out at the man while Bucky rolled his eyes, dropping your duffle bag by the couch. “How mature, Y/N.” Sam mimicked your action.

“Uhm…okay. Let me set up the couch for you then.”

Once everything was set up, you and Bucky thanking her for dinner - delicious and you’d never seen Bucky smile so much, the boys having kept him highly entertained throughout the meal - and for letting you crash, Sam and Sarah headed to their rooms, the boys already having been tucked in for the night.

“Are you gonna sleep on the floor?” You asked quietly, sitting down on the couch and doing the things for your night routine you didn’t already do in the bathroom.

“I think I’ll be okay.” He sat besides you. “I’ve been doing fine the past week or so.”

You smiled at him. “That’s good. Alright.” You stood up and stretched. “Let me just make sure everything’s in the bag and ready-”

You yelped when his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest, shifting down to lay against the couch’s arm. “Do it in the morning.” He yawned, looking up at you tiredly. “I wanna go to sleep.”

“Then go to sleep, Buck. I’ll be right back.” He shook his head, his hold tightening as he sunk deeper into the couch.

“No. I fall asleep better with you.”

You rolled your eyes but grinned, settling down with your legs between his, your chin resting on his sternum so you could still look at him. He beamed, but you could see the exhaustion settling in, and he grabbed the blanket Sarah left over the back of the couch and draped it across your back, over both of your legs, before his arms crossed snugly under the covers at the small of your back.

“Dinner was nice tonight. I haven’t had a meal cooked like that in ages.” You hummed.

He nodded in agreement. “I think that’s the first time I’ve sat around a table with a family since the 40′s.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah...kinda makes me wish I had my own.”

“Your own what?”

“Family.”

You bit your lip, shyly avoiding his gaze. “You’re my family, Buck.”

A light kiss was pressed to your forehead, his fingers bringing your gaze back to his. “There’s no one else I’d rather have.” The room lapsed into silence again, the clock ticking on the wall, the low sound of crickets outside.

“You have really pretty eyes.” You mumbled, tilting your head slightly as you studied them. They always held so much emotion in them, especially in contrast to when you first met him as Soldat. They matched the water you fell in, and you wouldn’t mind falling over and over into them.

“Yeah, well, you’re just really pretty inside and out, so I think you’ve got me beat, doll.” He whispered back.

“You know who else is pretty? Sarah.”

He nodded with a hum. “That’s true. But I meant what I said. You’ll always be my doll.”

“So you’re not gonna ask her out?”

He gave you a weird look as you traced his sharp jawline absentmindedly. “Nah, sweetheart. It’s just…some harmless flirting. Except on Sam’s part.”

You gave a soft huff of laughter. “Yeah…he’s gonna strangle you. It is nice to see you like that, though. Flirty. Relaxed. Happy.”

“You make me happy, sweetheart.” He hummed, nosing your temple. “The road trip helped. I’m learning everything from you. Maybe not the flirting, but the carefree part.”

You blinked at him, finger stopping for a moment as you thought. “Oh…”

You felt his fingers dance up your spine, making you shiver slightly. “What I would give to know what’s goin’ on inside that pretty lil’ head’a yours, doll.”

“I just think it’s funny you’re learning how to be carefree from me…when I just started learning how to do it myself.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded, your finger continuing its path down his jaw. ��I think it started with the goats.”

“The goats?”

You nodded again, resting your cheek on his chest, watching your finger move up from his chin. Once you got to the end of his jaw, you lightly scratched his scruff. “In Wakanda. Our goats.” You weren’t looking at him, so you didn’t see the way he physically melted at your words, his eyes going soft, his lips turning up slightly.

“Our goats, huh?”

But your tired brain wasn’t really processing what he said, instead focusing on the features your finger was now tracing - over his lips, up his nose. “You’re pretty too, Buck. Did you know that? Inside and out.”

He craned his neck to kiss your forehead. “Go to sleep, cuddle bug.”

Nodding, you nuzzled into his chest, finger feeling over the bumps and indents on the dog tags resting near your head. You tried going to sleep, but you kept shifting, your mind not shutting off.

“Hey, sleepyhead, I’m trying to, you know, sleep.”

“Sorry.” You apologized meekly. “I just…I dunno. I can’t.”

“Are you comfortable?” He peeked open and eye to look at you questioningly. You nodded. “Is it too hot? We can take the blanket off. I know I’m a walking furnace-”

You shook your head. “No. I don’t know why. I just can’t sleep.”

He licked his lips thoughtfully, before cradling your head and guiding you back down to his chest. “Lay down, sweetheart. Relax.” He stroked your hair, moving his head down to rub circles in your back muscles, pressing down harder when he felt knots. 

You hummed, your eyes closing. “That feels good.”

“Shshsh. Just go to sleep.” His lips pressed against your head once more, lingering a bit longer than they usually do, as you felt yourself drift off. You cuddled his side, throwing a leg over his waist, before nodding off, only barely hearing his words. “Attagirl. There we are.”

******************

“Doll?” You felt a shift underneath you and groaned, your eyes barely cracking open. “Hey, sleepyhead…it’s okay. I’m just gonna slip out from under ya, alright? Gonna go help Sammy with somethin’.”

You raised an eyebrow, letting him move you against the cushions as he sat up on the edge of the couch. “Sammy?”

“Yeah.” He bent over and kissed your cheek. You stretched out your limbs, about to rub your eyes, when he stopped you, kissing the inside of your wrists. “No. Not you, doll. Go back to sleep.” 

“Bu’...’m gonna help.” You slurred out, looking at him with confused, squinty eyes.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Rest. You can help when you wake up again. Okay?” You mumbled out an “okay”, bringing the covers up to your chin and snuggling deeper into the cushions. “There ya go, cuddle bug. Good girl.” There was another kiss, one to your temple this time, before you slipped back into unconsciousness.

******************

The next time you woke up was because of a clatter in the kitchen. You yawned and sat up, stretching, eyebrows furrowing when you realized Bucky wasn’t with you. It took you a moment to remember your conversation, which you half thought you dreamt.

“Boys!”

“Sorry!”

You chuckled at the shouts, rubbing your eyes. “I am so sorry!” Sarah apologized, looking over at you from the stove. Trying to make the boys breakfast before school. Do you want anything? Eggs? Cereal? Toast?”

“Uh, cereal’s fine.” You stretched out your back again, before throwing back the covers and standing up, a little shakily.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Sam went, would you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Uh, I think him and Bucky went to fix something on the boat. I don’t for sure, though.”

Sarah groaned. “He probably went to fix the stupid water pump which doens’t need fixing. Dumbass.”

You chuckled, padding over into the kitchen. “Yeah. I just work with him. I can’t imagine growing up with him.”

“Trust me; some days you want to throw him in a box and send him out to sea. Bowls are in that cupboard.”

You snickered, moving over to grab a bowl from the cupboard she pointed to. “That’s how I feel with Bucky. Sam is less often, but when those two get together…it’s a full zoo.”

She laughed at that, nodding as she got out the milk and a few boxes of cereal for you to choose from, handing you a spoon. “That I believe.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

You started pouring your cereal, watching in slight amusement as she got the boys ready for school. “Bus is here! Get out the door! Bye! Love you! Make sure you take those extra lunches to-!”

“Yeah, mom! We know! Love you too!”

You gave a slight smirk as she huffed, looking around the kitchen at the pans and dishes left out. “Kids, huh?”

She gave you a smile. “Yeah. They’re a handful, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. How about you? Any thoughts of kids?”

“Me?” Your eyes widened, nearly choking on your food. “Oh God no. Not right now, at least. I don’t even have a solid house right now. My life’s too off the walls for that.”

“And Bucky?”

You raised an eyebrow as she leaned on the counter. “Bucky? What about Bucky?”

“Does he want kids?”

“Uh…I dunno.” You shrugged, clearing your throat as you remembered your talk last night. “Kinda makes me wish I had my own.” You quickly pushed his words aside. “He hasn’t told me.”

“Wait, wait. You two…aren’t together then?”

You blinked, your eyes widening again. “Together? Me and Bucky? No…why? Did Sam say something?”

Her expression morphed into one of disbelief, crossing her arms. “Sam didn’t say anything. You guys did. Are you seriously expecting me to believe you aren’t together?”

“We’re not! I mean - he was flirting with you yesterday-”

“Right, okay. Honey, that’s flirting. And it’s harmless. The way he follows you like a puppy and you look at him like he hung the stars? That’s feelings. And that’s a lot more impactful than flirting.”

You frowned in contemplation. It was really that obvious? You were really that blind? This whole time? You knew Sam knew - but you just figured that’s because he’s been there since it started. And Sharon knew for the same reason. But Sarah? The woman you just met the day prior and had barely had a conversation with?

“It’s, uh…” You chewed on your cheek, swirling your cereal around. “It’s complicated.”

Sarah didn’t look impressed. “Do you like him?”

“I’m kinda in love with him-”

She shrugged, not letting you finish your bashful statement. “Then I don’t see what’s complicated about it.”

And that was that. She turned to clean up breakfast, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You thought it was more complicated than that. I mean…you were in love with your best friend. Who left you. With the guy you had feelings for who just so happened to be your best friend/crush’s best friend. And now you were completely in love with your best friend’s best friend, but your best friend still had a piece of your heart.

But…you loved Bucky. And he was here. And Steve was not. And when you put it that way…you guess it wasn’t so complicated after all.

******************

You snickered as you walked up behind Sarah, the woman berating the men for not leaving the water pump along like she asked.

“Hi, Sarah.”

Sam shot Bucky a warning look, who grinned, but you were surprised to see Sarah ignore him, sending you a knowing glance instead, before turning back to Sam. “I told you specifically that the water pump was not the problem, and yet, here you are.”

“Yep, Samuel.”

You chuckled, Bucky shooting you a wink. “Yeah, Samuel.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at you, turning to Sarah. “In our defense, you were supposed to be done long before you woke up.”

You nearly facepalmed at his “defensive” and you were trying so hard to hold back laughing as she told Sam off, sending them away.

“I don’t wanna hear a peep from you.” Sam pointed at you, but that only made your chortles come out, and you didn’t even bother hiding them. “She’s a very mean person.”

“It’s tough love.”

You giggled as they started arguing, slipping an arm around their waists, their arms instinctually coming up to your shoulders.

“Oh my God. A prowess?”

“Yes, Y/N. A prowess.”

“You know, maybe if you someone let me help-”

“Hey, woah! You were tired! I let you sleep! I was being nice!”

“Too late now. I’ll be lucky if Sarah lets me within a hundred feet of it!”

“She got you so good, Sammy!”

“I agree with Buck for once! You’re too snippy right now! And c’mon man! Stop flirting with my sister!”

“It’s my natural charm.”

“Charm? What charm?”

“Ouch, doll! That one hurt!”

****************

“Okay.” You stepped out of the bathroom, walking over to the couch and setting the bag down on it. “I’ve got everything packed. We’ve got a little over an hour until we need to head out which gives you two time to go set something up for Sammy and maybe even a bit or training before we leave.” 

Bucky frowned. “You’re not gonna come out?”

“I will in a bit. I just got a phone call I need to take.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Government call?”

You gave a mocking smile. “Can you guess what they want to talk about? It’s okay. I’ll survive. It’s only a phone call, so I can always hang up. Pretend I didn’t have good service. I do it all the time.”

“I’m sure you do.” Sam chuckled. “In that case, I’m gonna go grab some stuff and get the shield.” As he walked out, he made sure to mouth at you behind Bucky’s back ‘conversation’ making you swallow thickly. You were planning on talking to Bucky anyways, and with Sam’s insistence…

“Okay, so, I was thinking when we get back-”

“Can I talk to you?”

Bucky stopped digging through the bag, blinking at you in surprise at your sudden burst. “Uh…well, we already are, so yes.” He chuckled, straightening and crossing his arms.

“I wanna have the conversation.”

He was left stunned, once again, his mouth opening and closing and his weight shifting form one foot to the other. “Like…that conversation? R-right now? Are you sure?”

You winced at her nervousness. “Sorry, sorry. I know it’s kinda…I just…I need to talk about it. Now.”

“Okay, okay. No, that’s fine. Don’t apologize. I just wasn’t expecting it.” Bucky cleared his throat. “That’s all.”

“Okay…” You breathed with a small nod. You opened your mouth, but Bucky shook his head.

“I hafta say this first; I didn’t mean to hurt you by telling you about Steve. I-I dunno what I thought. That it’d give you closure or something. I dunno. But it hurt you and I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Buck-”

“I was jealous. And guilty. And mad. And upset. I still am. Kinda. I guess. I dunno.” Bucky shook his head, running his hand through his hair and all you could do was gape at him as he started confessing to you. “Remember when we danced? In Madripoor? Doll…I don’t wanna dance ever again if it’s not with you. I fucking love you, Y/N. And not in the way we’ve said it before. I’m in love with you. I have been for-for a while now. I just - you were Steve’s. Steve loved you and you loved Steve and that was that and I was just the broken childhood best friend. But Steve left and he told me to take care of you and I didn’t know what to do with that, because you still love Steve. I think. I dunno. And I didn’t want to break what we have because you’re all I have left of him. You and that stupid shield. You’re my family. My home. I really meant it when I told you that. And that’s why I couldn’t tell you. Because it means too much for me to break what we have because I fell in love with my best friend’s girl. You know?”

He looked at you with pleading eyes, begging you to understand, but your brain was still trying to process what he was telling you.

“Oh God…” He groaned. “And now I just told you everything and you’re looking at me like that wasn’t what you wanted to hear and now I’m thinking this wasn’t the conversation you were thinking it was going to be-”

You were moving across the room before you could stop yourself, pulling him by the teal Henley you knew was comfortable having worn it to bed before when you visited him in New York, and slanting your lips over his.

His breathing hitched and he froze, and for a hot second you thought you made everything worse, but then he was kissing you back and his hands were on your hips and he was pulling you closer and it felt so fucking good you didn’t want to pull back for air.

“Shut up.” You muttered when you finally did pull back, your forehead against his, your eyes clenched shut. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.” You pulled back to look up at him, chests heaving against each other, your eyes prickling. “I’m not good at this. I’m not good at opening up. I only ever was good at it with Steve but Bucky…I’ve been doing it with you. This whole time and I didn’t even realize it until the conversation in the car.”

He reached up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the relieved tears that were falling from the weight you were finally getting off your chest.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. How could I not be? After all that time in Wakanda? I was never Steve’s girl, Bucky. I wanted to be. Dammit, did I wanna be, but I wasn’t. Not really. And he’s gone. But you’re not. And I don’t know why it took me so long to see that. That you’re the one in front of me. You’re the one who held me when I needed it once he left. You’re the one that would listen to my rambles that I’m just realizing was most of our phone calls. You’re not just the broken childhood friend. Don’t ever think that. I don’t pick up the phone at five in the morning after searching for a friend until two for just anyone. Even Steve’s best friend. And I’m such an idiot because I’ve been pushing away my feelings all these years for Steve and then I let them out with you at the wrong time, because I love Steve, Bucky, but I’m not in love with him. Not since I fell in love with you. And I know it doesn’t make sense, but Steve was the first one I cared about and that’s just how I feel and I can try to explain, but-”

His lips crashed onto yours again and you could taste the salty tears that were pouring down your cheeks, but you didn’t care. He was holding you and he was kissing you and it was even more perfect than you thought it’d be.

“You’re adorable when you ramble, but Jesus Christ, shuddup, doll.” He breathed. “Just tell me you love me. Tell me you love me just a fraction of how much I love you.”

You looked up into those ocean eyes, your own shining with earnest affection. “James Buchanan Barnes. I love you.”

“That’s all I need to know.” He murmured against your lips, holding your head against his, still wiping away your tears. It felt like with each one that fell, you felt lighter and lighter. Like they were taking away every fear and anxiety you held within you for the past six months.

“Alright! I was thinking we could just set up in these trees out here - holy shit! Is it done? Did you do it? Did I miss it? Has the conversation been had?”

Bucky chuckled as you giggled. “He has the worst timing.” The last two words were loud enough so Sam could hear, although the man heard the whole sentence. 

“I’m gonna take that as a yes!” Sam cheered. “Halle-fucking-lujah! Finally! I was that close to locking you two in the attic.”

You shook your head at Sam’s personal celebration, drowning the rest of his words out as you looked at Bucky, who swept his thumb over your cheek catching one last tear, before pecking your lips.

“I finally get to kiss where I really want to.” He spoke softly, kissing your lips again. “Are you mine, doll?”

“I thought you said I’d always be your doll.” You answered cheekily. He grinned, kissing you again, pulling you against him by the hips.

“Okay, okay! That’s enough! We get it! You’re in love, finally, but I don’t wanna see it anymore! Now will you come help me with this shit?”

Bucky left one more lingering kiss on your lips, before you pushed him away reluctantly. “I’ll be right out.”

He nodded, moving over to help Sam carry the things he’d gathered.

You watched them put it all up from the window, gnawing on your cheek as you spun your phone in your hands. Coming to a decision, you tossed your phone in the duffle bag and walked out with it just as the boys finished.

“That was a quick phone call.” Sam raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged. “Didn’t call them. If they really need me, they’ll find me.”

Bucky grinned as you set the bag down under a tree, pecking your lips when you got close enough for him to grab by the waist to hold you against him. You rolled your eyes, shoving him playfully away and giggling as Sam let out a groan.

“Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got, Sammy.”

~

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

Bucky knew he needed the tough love talk Sam was giving him. He needed to hear it. Because, deep down, he had known it all along, he just refused to believe it. He tried doing it. Making amends. He knew he wasn’t though. And of course he knew immediately who that one person would be.

“And hey.” Bucky looked at him. “Let me tell you what. Telling my girl all that you told her? That’s a good start. I’m proud of you. Both of you. You’re already happier. I can see it in your eyes.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head as he thought of the gorgeous woman he nearly let slip through his fingers. He looked over to the house, where she was inside somewhere getting ready after suddenly deciding she needed to shower before they left. “I was stupid.”

“Yeah you were. You both were. I’m so relieved it’s over.” Sam nudged him. “Treat her right, Buck. She deserves it.”

“I know…I just hope I can.”

Sam shook his head. “Uh-uh. Don’t do that. You were just starting to use that cyborg brain of yours! She chose you. And before you say anything,” Sam cut Bucky off from speaking as he opened his mouth to object. “She chose you before Steve left. It just took her dumbass this long to realize it.”

Bucky nodded, a small smile on his face. “Yeah…okay…” Before he could say anything, the goddess herself stepped out, jogging over, looking absolutely amazing in her jeans and his t-shirt. “Good talk.”

Sam laughed at his quick ending of the conversation as she came up besides them. “Talking about me?” She asked cheekily, eyes shining. Bucky couldn’t help but take her under his arm, pecking her lips. Now that he could, he didn’t think he could stop. He was addicted to say the least.

Throwing Bucky a wink, Sam shrugged. “Just all the things that get on our nerves.”

“Ha ha.” She rolled her eyes. “We better get going.”

Bucky and Sam clapped hands. “You know Karli won’t quit.”

Bucky smiled. “Ah. You call us when you have a lead and we’ll be there.”

Y/N stepped forwards to give Sam a hug. “Anytime, Sammy.”

“Eh. Anytime between noon and midnight.” Bucky corrected. “Or noon and ten. Noon and five…you better just call at noon to be safe.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure.”

“Not necessarily as a team.” Bucky continued, grabbing the bag, getting Y/N back in her spot at his side under his arm.

“Nope!”

“We’re not that good.”

“Definitely not.”

“We’re professionals.”

“Definitely.”

“And, uh, we’re partners.”

Sam snapped, pointing at him. “Coworkers.”

“But we’re also a couple of guys with a couple mutual friends.”

“Ones now gone and you’re dating the other.”

“So we’re a couple of guys…with a badass to help out.”

“I can live with that.”

“Perfect.”

“Oh my God.” Y/N let out that laugh Bucky could never get enough of, shaking her head at the two of them. “You forgot dumbasses.”

Sam shook his head. “Nuh-uh. That’s your couple name.”

“Dumbasses?”

“Oh yeah.” The three of them came to a stop, Bucky and his girl - God he loved confirming it now - facing Sam. “Thanks for the help, guys. Meant a lot.”

Bucky patted his shoulder. “Of course.”

Y/N shot him a wink. “Until we meet again, Sammy.”

“Until then, cher.”

Bucky couldn’t stop his grin as she wrapped her arms around his waist, the two of them starting to walk to the main road where she already ordered an Uber. He looked down at her, kissing her lips for the nth time in the past hour.

“I wish I didn’t wait so long,” he told her seriously. “But I’d wait a thousands more centuries if it meant I get to call you mine.”

She giggled, shaking her head. “You’re such a sap! But…” she moved up to kiss him and his heart stuttered. He knew he had a goofy grin on when she pulled back, but he couldn’t help it. Especially when she laughed again. “I have to agree with you on that, Buckaroo.”

#cjsinkythoughts #cjswriting #cjsspoilers #fatws spoilers #tfatws spoilers #falcon and the winter soldier spoilers #fatws #tfatws #falcon and the winter soldier #fatws series #fatws pt 6.3 #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #bucky x avenger!reader #bucky barnes #❤🐦💙🦾 #💙🦾

[dumbmusclehypnojockboy]

Jersey Bros by writer-ofstuff

"So, how did these two do?"

"What do you think? Failures. Just like the others have been."

"I don't know. I wouldn't say they were total failures." The lead scientist mused.

"Sir? What do you mean? The super soldier serum didn't work." His assistant said.

"Yes, while that is true, it does tells us we are on the right track to perfecting it." The scientist said. He types on the computer and brings up their two subject's readings to show his assistants what he means.

"Look at their readings. Their DNA is already changing due to the serum. Which means we are closer to our breakthrough. We just need to do some more adjustments to the formula to get it exactly what we want it to do." He explains.

His assistants nod their heads in understanding and then busy themselves with work that the lead scientist instructs them to begin.

"Sir, what should we do with these two?" One of the asked, gesturing towards the two men who lay asleep on the metal table in the next room.

"Toss them out on the beach. They are no longer of any use to me now." He says dismissively.

The assistant nods his head and calls up a few soldiers who stood guard outside to help take Dean Winchester and Derek Hale's sleeping forms out of the lab and into a truck. Driving them down to an isolated part of the beach just as the morning sign rises and leaves the two sleeping men on the sandy beach.

------

Derek awakes with start, sitting up and looking out at the ocean while the gentle waves wash up and down the sand shore. He rubs his hand through his hair, not caring he is getting small pieces of sand in it.

He feels like he is forgetting something, like the last few hours there is just a hole in his memory. Derek turns his attention to the man sleeping close by him. The werewolf rolls his eyes when he hears Dean starting to snore rather loudly. He has a hard to believing this guy his a feared and bad ass hunter when he is passed out with his ass up in the air and a little drool coming out of his mouth.

Derek doesn't quite remember why he and this hunter teamed up, that being part of the missing pieces in Derek's memories. Yet he still for some reason remembers meeting Dean.

Derek gets to his feet and walks the short distance between himself and the sleeping hunter and lightly kicks him with his foot. The action jars Dean away who quickly rolls over and hits up, sand falling off his face from where he had laid asleep.

"Wake up."

"Wha? I am up." Dean says in a sleepy voice. Rubbing his face clean of the drool and the sand that was still on his face.

"Derek? Why are we on a beach?" Dean asked.

The hunter had sounded just as confused as Derek felt. So Derek doubts asking Dean if he knew what was going on here would be of any help.

"Come on, let's get out of here." Derek says.

He offers his hand out for Dean to take to help the other man up. As soon as their hands make contact a strange feeling jolts through both men's hands. The two men are so startled they let go of their hands and Dean falls on his ass.

"Oops, sorry bro." Derek says.

He frowns when he thinks about why he just referred to Dean as bro. That wasn't a word that Derek would use yet it just slipped out when he spoke. Derek thought nothing of it, besides Stiles said bro all the time so it must have just slipped into his speech.

Thinking about Stiles, Derek started to wonder where the younger man was. He had an odd feeling that he had been looking for him and grew tense at the thought.

'Was Stiles endanger and he didn't remember it?' He thought for a moment. But then his mind felt a little dizzy and then he thought about how the younger man is just at home relaxing.

Derek glances at Dean who looks lost in thought as well. Derek wants to ask him what he is thinking about, but he refrains from it. Dean was a hunter so Derek didn't want to bother to get to know the other man.

Now that he thinks about it, why was he even with Dean? He asks the human and sees Dean's confused frown deepened as he pauses walking.

"Huh, I don't know either." Dean said.

This honestly should alarm both men, yet Derek felt himself feeling relaxed instead. He assumes Dean feels the same way since the other man doesn't make a move to get away from Derek by walking in the other direction.

As they continue to walk side by side down the sandy empty beach Derek's mind wonders. Thinking about how the pair ended up on the beach anyway. Surely there was a reason wasn't there? At the moment he couldn't think what the reason was. When he asked Dean the other man shrugged his shoulders and didn't say a word.

When Derek stole a glance at him he frowned when he noticed that Dean's hair looked lighter than before.

'Wasn't his hair brown?' He thought to himself while he looked at Dean's now bleach blond hair. The hair style even looked different. Looking a little longer and styled differently with hair products to give Dean a fluffy faux hawk style hair do.

The hairstyle even made Dean look younger to Derek. The older man now looks like he is around Derek's age instead of a man pushing into his late thirties.

This was really starting to confuse Derek, but the more he pondered what was going on here the more those thoughts left his mind and he got distracted by something else.

"Did you change your hair?"

Dean hears Derek ask and he turns his attention to the werewolf.

"Sorry, what?" Dean asked. He wasn't really paying attention to what Derek said. Busy in his thoughts about why he was on a beach with a werewolf.

"Your hair. It looks different." Derek said.

Dean touched his hair, feeling how it was a little stiff from the hair product he put in this morning after his shower. It felt like his usual style, telling Derek as such.

When Dean looks over at Derek it's his turn to be confused since Derek's facial hair looked different. He could have sworn Derek had a thick amount of stubble along his jaw and around his mouth. Yet now Derek's face was all clean shaven except for some scruff that covered his chin.

Dean had intended to ask Derek about it, but he then thinks against it. After all it would sound rather odd to ask Derek that. Since obviously Derek just had the chin scruff prior, Dean must have just been mistaken is all.

He started to second guess himself, wondering what if something was going on here with himself and Derek. Especially since he couldn't quite explain why the two were even together in the first place.

The two men reach the boardwalk and continue to walk side by side in silence. The pair were both lost in their own minds trying to make sense of what they were doing when Dean noticed a gym to their right.

He pauses and stands outside it, looking inside through the glass windows. When Derek notices he isn't by his side the werewolf pauses and turns around.

"You alright bro?" Derek asked.

His voice sounded off to him and he clears his throat and asks again.

Dean didn't answer him so Derek walked up to stand beside him. He peers through the window of the gym like Dean is doing.. For a moment nothing happened but then Derek starts to get flashes of memories in his head. He sees himself inside the gym, working out with Dean. The two chat like they are best friends while they spot one other while they work out.

The memories he recalls aren't really, he knows this, but at the same time they feel like they are real to Derek and he hates that.

"Come on bro, let's get goin yeah?" Derek asks. Again his voice sounds off to him, but he can't quite place why.

"In a bit dude, I need to see somethin." Dean replies.

Derek opens his mouth to say something, but before he could Dean confused walking into the gym without another word.

"Fuckin hell." Derek grunted.

He paced a little outside, debating on what he should do. Running his hand through his hair, as soon as his hand falls back to his side his hair shifts. The sides shaving down to a buzz style while the mid section of his hair style back as it lengthens.

He thinks about just leaving Dean. Clearly something strange is going on here and that is the reason they feel holes in their memories while also having these fragments of new memories.

"Fuck it." Derek grunts and follows Dean into the gym.

------

Dean can't explain the urge he felt to go into the gym. Like Derek he gained those similar memories of himself and the other man coming here. In those false memories it seemed like they were close friends despite the two men hardly knowing one another.

He told himself this was to get to the bottom of things. Instead though Dean just wanders through the main area of the gym. He only sees men in the gym, some guys alone working out while others are grouped up and chatting while jogging on the treadmill.

What makes it strange is how some of them address him by his name, as if they know Dean. Rather than question how they know him Dean just rolls with it, greeting them back. While he does and continues deeper into the gym. His body alters, muscles becoming more toned and defined. Gained from years of working put and maintaining this kind of physique rather than Dean having earned it through training.

The tattoo on his left pec that wards of possession starts to break apart. The ink traverses along Dean's chest under his shirt. Wisps of ink branch off to spread along Dean's arms while the rest form into different styles of tattoos.

More false memories bombard Dean's mind and the hunter clenches his head as he attempts to push those new thoughts out of his mind. He looks ahead of him Dean sees he is standing a few steps away from a large wall mirror. He can see his green eyes darken and for a brief moment he fears he is being possessed by a demon.

"Demon? Demon's don't exist," he then thinks.

His green eyes turn brown, his lips get a little fuller, nose wider and the bridge of it becomes slimmer. Dean grunts, watching his face change before his eyes and unable to do anything but throw his arms up and start to pose. Smirking at his biceps and admiring how large they are. Giving into the admiration of his own appearance finally pushes Dean over. His mind purging his own self from it finally as his new dimwitted and vain self takes over.

He lifts his shirt up to admire his hard earned abs and pecs next once he has had enough flexing. Only stopping to look around and wonder where his best bro is at.

📷

----------

Navigating through the gym was making Derek feel uneasy. What connection he had left to his werewolf abilities was telling him something wasn't right about this place. The men he walked by all seemed like the same type. Self absorbed meat heads who cared only about themselves and showing off.

Derek despised shallow men like this. So whenever any of them tried to stop and talk to him he would give them a glare and ignore them to continue his search for Dean.

The further Derek ventured into the gym the harder it was to recall past memories of his. Thoughts he would have would shift to random things.

'I'm totally bigger than that dude.'

'Jason's here? May need to see if he wants to fuck in the locker room again.'

'Mike's here too. Should talk to him about getting another tat.'

'Where the hell is Dean at? My bro needs to spot me.'

Derek tried to shove those thoughts away but it felt like the more he tried to, the more adamant they were to linger in his head.

He needed to find Dean and get out of here. When he reaches the back area of the gym he finds a tattooed dude posing in front of the mirror.

Derek thought of what a self absorbed guido the guy was. The type of guy you would hate on a trash reality show. He releases only to realize a moment later that this man was somehow Dean.

Astonished, Derek quickly approaches Dean, opening his mouth to ask what happened to him.

"Looking good bro." He says instead. Taken aback by his own words.

Dean turns to look at him and grins.

"You see yourself bro? You hitting the iron hard ya?" Dean replies.

Derek wants to deny it, but he can feel his body surging with muscle. He tries to repel the ongoing changes, but it proves to be useless. His pecs inflate to large and firm pectorals. While his biceps gained quite a bit of bulk to them. The rest of him gained a significant amount of solid muscle while Derek also felt himself growing a little taller.

His pale skin darkened with a tan gained from walking around shirtless and hitting the tanning bed when he could.

Derek tries even harder to repel these alterations happening to him. Not wanting to end up like some self absorbed dick like Dean had become. He assumes being a werewolf has given him an edge that made whatever caused this work slower on him.

He can feel himself being overweight by whatever this is, wincing when two diamond studs appear in his earlobes and his mind shatters a few moments later. Derek stood there in a daze while his old thoughts were overrun by a new persona.

Derek then blinks himself awake, a slow grin spreading on his face as he flexes for Dean.

"Fuck yeah bro. You know I gotta keep this bod in shape for the studs." Derek said with a heavy Jersey accent.

He stands beside Dean and the best bros make faces and pose for a picture. Uploading it to social media before the pair get back to their workout routine. Neither of them remembering anything of their past selves.

📷

[jeonqquk]

permission to date | jjk

pairing | jungkook x reader genre | RICHHHH!JK , crack n then angst jskskdk idk it’s super weird , lame attempts at serious shit wc | 996 words summary | the one where jungkook seemingly forgets the fact that adults could make decisions for themselves notes | the irony of the fact that jk is a richboi in the fic but a prisoner in the header✨aNYways i just had to use this title lmao hope you enjoy btw tags weren’t woking, i’ll check it out tmrw morning first!

feedback is always welcome!

“We don’t need permission to date, Jungkook.”

You exasperatedly sigh, lolling your head back onto the couch and take in a deep breath. Beside you, Jungkook is not as relaxed and fidgets on the soft sofa, playing with his fingers which is a habit of his you’ve grown accustomed to. He did this a lot when he was stressed about something, would shift uncomfortably again and again until you asked him what was bothering him.

“Y/n, you don’t understand.” He turns to face you, eyebrows furrowed and you groan, “I don’t need to, Kook. You’re literally a 23-year-old CEO of your own company and don’t know if you’re allowed to date a girl?”

“It’s not that exactly..”

He nods, hesitantly and you can’t help but find his irrational fear funny. You try to stifle but let out a laugh, and watch as Jungkook widens his eyes, scandalised at the prospect of you finding his dilemma even the slightest bit laughable.

“Oh, this funny to you?” He sneers, although there is no malice present in his tone. You play along, teasingly nod and watch his facial features contort from distressed to cheeky. His lopsided grin and twinkling eyes only serve to prove you right further that he was thinking of something.

And that something could never be any good.

Jungkook moves closer to you on the couch, and you eye him suspiciously, unaware of what was going on in his brain.

“Let me give you something to laugh about.” He doesn't give you any time to digest his words before he’s tackling you to the floor, fingers digging into the flesh of your stomach and he straddles you, restricting your movement.

Jungkook tickles you like there’s no tomorrow, certainly giving you something to laugh about as he totally disregards your pleads to stop and keeps going. “Take that.” He’s unwavering as you try to move him away but the force of your laughter has you backing down, hands moving of their own accord to gt aay from his tactics.

You try to catch your breath between the loud laughs, “Jungkook! Stop i- Stop!” He ignores your words, or rather screams, of protest and continues tickling you with renewed vigour. You’re howling with laughter at this point, soft chuckles that were meant to keep your dignity forgotten, hands desperately trying to push Jungkook’s devilish ones away.

“O-Okay! I’m sorry!” You pant out in between the giggling and he pauses, “What’d you say, baby?” When you don’t respond, too busy catching your breath, he resumes ticking your stomach, laughing himself as you thrash around uselessly in his hold.

“I-I said I’m sorry!” You finally manage to get out, still trying to push him off and he finally relents, getting off you and moving to lie down beside you on the carpeted floor.

Jungkook’s white formal shirt is crumpled, both your hair a mess and you blame none other than the man in front of you for that.

“I hate you.” You turn to face him, breathing heavily and he moves a strand of hair away from your face. You shrug him off, resting sideways on your elbow and ask him, “Still don’t know if you can date me?”

Jungkook shuts his eyes, “It’s not that I don’t want to, Y/n, you know that.” You nod. Jungkook and you are practically already dating at this point, you do all the couple-y stuff but the only thing left is making it official to the public.

He’s made it pretty clear to you that he wants to be with you. But, you don’t get why he was so afraid of finally revealing it to the media. He’s had his reasons, you guess, but it had been too long and you wanted answers.

“I really want to tell everyone about us, Y/n, I really do. I just don’t know how the public will take it. You know what’s happened to partners’ of other celebrities because of fans and I don’t want that to happen to you as well.”

His words sink in, and you completely agree with his concerns. If you had been in Jungkook’s place, the same worries would have weighed you down. However, he doesn’t need to worry about others’ opinions affecting you. If there’s one thing he should’ve learn about you after being together for almost a year- it’s that you don’t give two flying shits about what others think of you. It’s safe o say that you’re as independent as a woman could be and you want him to know that you’ll be okay even those around you don’t approve of your relationship.

You want his happiness, only. What others thought didn’t matter in the least to you.

But, Jungkook was different.

He was always so self-conscious, always thinking about what others' would like and doing things the right way. He was raised that way, you couldn’t do anything about it. Jungkook had practically been born in gold, having all the luxuries one could dream of right from the day he saw the world.

He had always been in the spotlight, the media always around him looking for juicy stories. Every single thing he did was being kept track of, and that definitely played a part in his current personality.

It was extremely rare for him to talk about his feelings too, so seeing him like this- addressing his worries was a first.

“I know, Kook, but you gotta know that I don’t care about them. I only want you, only want you to be satisfied.” He looks straight at you, dark eyes holding so much emotion in them. “You sure?” He softly questions, hand coming to rest on yours.

“Are you sure, Jungkook? I know how hard this must be for you and-“ You’re cut off by his lips meeting yours, gently moving in sync. He pulls off with a sweet pop.

“I don’t want anything more than to show my girl off to everyone.”

© intokook | absolutely no reposts/modifications/translations of works tolerated.

#ficscafe #multifandomnet #blackswannet #jungkook #bts #bangtan #jjk #jeon jungkook #jeongguk #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts crack #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook crack #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #kpop #k-pop #kpop fics #bts fics #jungkook fic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #fluff #angst #bts drabble #jungkook drabble

[cupidsintern]

oho i would love to hear about that second one please please (and ill post a pic of my bellbottoms tomorrow lol)

its my virgin!billy fic. ill just give u some of it lmao:

the other night i cried (while thinking of having sex with you) pt. 1

Billy prayed for this. 

Like, actually honest to god prayed- but in his defense he had been super drunk at the time. Drunk and crying. Alone. In his room. 

One of his lower points. Definitely not the lowest. 

And he hadn't put his hands together- but he was sort of sitting on his knees. Kind of. 

And he’d tilted his head up to his god-forsaken popcorn plastered ceiling and blinked a couple times and closed his eyes and thought:

Please let me lose my virginity to Steve Harrington. 

Shoot for the stars, right?

It had been one of those nights where he'd been at one of those parties and ended up in a room alone with one of those girls and she’d started pawing her way up his leg and he bolted. 

Very subtly bolted. But still. 

Made him feel sick. He took two showers. 

Maybe he would have felt better if he could have just like, stared himself down in the bathroom mirror and whispered ‘what's wrong with you?’. But he knew. 

Then he’d prayed. 

Then he’d fallen asleep and been hungover at breakfast and was sure his dad would notice- but he didn’t- so maybe even if his prayers weren’t gonna be answered, whatever Higher Power there was, was still cutting him some slack today. On a random Saturday. Rather than literally any other day he could have used a deus ex machina.

Nobody knew Billy was a virgin. I mean technically, some of his old friends knew, back home. But they were usually cool about it, because why wouldn't you be if you'd been friends for someone that long. But no one here knew. And thank god because being 18 and still being ‘inexperienced’ would get you endless shit but they didn't. Mostly because they had no way of finding out. Billy could have bagged loads of chicks back on the gold coast and no one doubted that. 

And it wasn't like Billy’d never gotten hot and heavy with anyone. It was just that. None of those people were. You know. Girls. 

Nobody he could actually talk about. Especially now. Even if he had friends other than fair-weather lackeys. 

And. You know. Steve.

Billy would never say he was friends with Steve outright, just because it seemed like one of those things that if you verbally confirmed it, then it would stop being true. Because he kind of couldn't believe that it was. 

It was Max’s fault for making him apologize. She said she didn't want Billy and her to keep fighting so much, that she missed being friends, and it was like pulling teeth but he asked what he could do to make amends. She said to apologize to Lucas, then apologize to Steve. Billy did that. 

Then Steve wouldn't leave him alone. 

And it wasn't like he could keep pretending to hate Steve- he'd taken that way too far. Couldn’t exactly pull Steve aside and say “Look I know you're trying to be nice but if you don’t leave me alone I’ll start being queer about it and I can’t let that happen again.”

So Steve kept being nice.

And Billy got kinda queer about it.

He really tried not to. Honest he did. But then again maybe he didn't. Because Steve smelled like department store Christmas and if he bought a two pack of lighters he always gave Billy the second one. He’d walk over sit with Billy at lunch and always say “this seat taken?” even if there was no one else around like it was a cheesy sitcom and he was just waiting for the laugh track to kick in.

Then it got to the point that if Billy tried to avoid Steve, Steve would track him down and ask if he was okay.

“You okay, man?”

Wasn't always ‘man,’ either. Sometimes it was “California” or “Bills” or even one time “tiger,” and that shit knocked Billy out. Pulled the rug right out from under him but- “Yeah, Harrington. I’m fine. Just getting some air.”

Billy asked Max what the fuck she’d told Steve about Billys life. She said if he wanted to ask her something he couldn't just barge into her room he had to knock first so he had to leave her room, close the door, knock, and wait for her to say “yeah” to open the door again and “For the second time, Maxine. What did you tell Harrington about me.”

“Nothing,” She was being honest too. “I didn't tell him anything, weirdo. I think he just wants to be friends.”

Friends.

Which was maybe worse than enemies.

Because it meant the sad, sad reality that Billy was just some incognito perv that didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of sleeping with Steve Harrington was made even more apparent.

Then came the ‘let’s hangout’s.

Steve started asking Billy if he wanted to hang out outside of school. Like go for lunch, then maybe ditch school after lunch, just not go back and drive around for a while. Then just ditch a day of school altogether and walk around downtown. Then spend an entire school holiday walking around downtown, chasing pigeons off the sidewalk and window shopping and spending a whole two hours in the one and only record shop trying to track down a tape Steve said he remembered having in the 8th grade.

Then-

“Hey! Bills, slow down,” Steve was trying to catch up to Billy in the hall.

Billy caught a whiff of hairspray and the Cleanest Woods You'd Ever Stick Your Nose In before he even turned his head.

“What are you doing after school tomorrow?” “Light arson. Why do you ask?”

Steve smiled. “You could do some light arson at my house. Sure I have some old homework you could burn.”

Billy wanted very badly to tell Steve that ‘that is not what arson is’. But he was still kind of hung up on being invited to Steve’s house. Steve’s illusive, gigantic house to which he had never been but always secretly wanted to go.

“I’m more of a book burning guy.” Billy smiled back- couldn't help himself. “Get me your address in third tomorrow, yeah?”

Steve’s smile got wider. “Sick.”

Billy got Steve’s address passed to him by the platinum blonde that sat next to him in third period. She teased the shiny strands all to hell every morning but there were always halfway to flat by 10am. She flicked the note onto his desk kind of carelessly, which Billy hated because didn't she know it was precious cargo? But also he didn't care because it wasn't a big deal going to Harrington’s house anyway.

Steve had drawn little stars around his house address. Like it was some big Destination.

What a dork. Billy traced his finger over one of the stars before shoving the note in his pocket.

-

pt. 2 maybe coming soon???

#harringrove fanfic #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #my fic #billy x steve #steve x billy

[tadpole-san]

are we still friends? ;  d.g. part two pairing: titans!dick grayson x reader, on-and-off relationship warnings: dick being his therapy-needing titans self, slight canon divergence from titans 1x06, and an ending that may or may not lead to a part two a/n: i will never let go of my personal dick grayson grudge, but this exists solely because i love @capricorn-stark

The last time you had seen Dick Grayson, he’d outfitted himself with packed belongings and a one-way ticket to Detroit, Michigan. Seeing him off at the airport would turn out to be the last time you saw him for a year - a fact you hadn’t picked up on at the time, but did, in fact, predict. To a degree.

“You could come visit,” he’d offered, just steps away from his gate. “You - well, you said you had plans to go to Chicago, right? The drive’s not too bad.” It was hard to say no.

Because this was Dick Grayson, and he had to be so earnest about everything he did. Even when it was asking you to come see him as he was moving hundreds of miles away from Gotham (hundreds of miles away from you, a part of your mind whispered, even as you reminded yourself that this didn’t have anything to do with you so much as it had to do with his fractured relationship with Bruce). Because he was trying to make things work.

“How are you able to be friends with your exes?” you’d asked, bemused and flabbergasted all at once. It wasn’t the first time. “I really try to hate you, you know.” That got him to laugh - which was nice. You felt as though you hadn’t really smiled in a long time.

“Maybe that’s my superpower.”

“Your superpower is super annoying,” you’d deadpanned, before leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you around, Grayson.”

An empty promise neither of you acknowledged.

After that, it was all too easy to fall out of touch with Dick - one too many missed calls, excuses of taking more shifts at his police station when you were more than capable of keeping up with the news that spoke of a vigilant Robin without its bat, until eventually, total radio silence. And you were happy to leave it at that, knowing that whatever Dick was working through, he’d clearly rather do it on his own.

So when even the Robin sightings in Detroit stopped entirely, you didn’t push things. Maybe he’d finally done it: give up the costume for good, leave the life behind like he said he would do, but never actually committed to.

This was probably a sign. That you need to go see him, like you said you would do, but never committed to.

Which means that the last thing you expect, on your morning coffee run in Chicago, was to quite literally run into the man of the hour himself.

“Dick?” The word comes in a way that is akin to a strangled duck squawking.  You wonder if the man before you is real - if you’re not just imagining the figure that stands before you, cuts and bruises littering his face. As if he’s been in a fight.

With his track record, there probably was a fight. With him, there’s always the fight.

“Sup?” Dick’s not the one who answers you first. It’s the kid standing at his side, walking with a swagger that speaks volumes to the confidence of a kid who’s filling out the big boy shoes with his own ego. You try not to judge too much - there’s always a story behind a stance like his. “Jason Todd, at your service.”

A train passes on the overhead, the sound drawing you out of your thoughts. You realize his hand is still offered to you, and you shake it, still staring at Dick. He’s tense, shoulders drawn, hunched in on himself and bracing for a fight.

Something’s up. And with the Boy Wonder, it’s always something big, and possibly earth-shattering. Inwardly, you sigh. On the outside, you smile wryly and introduce yourself to Jason.

“You probably know who I am,” you say, letting go of Jason’s hand and stepping back. Your grip on your bag tightens. “Dick’s a big storyteller, once you get him going.” Dick verbally steps in before Jason can say anything to either confirm or deny your words.

“I could use your help.”

He doesn’t say we.

“I can see that,” you deadpan, motioning to his face. Your hand stops shy of actually touching the bruise blossoming against tanned skin. “A personal favor, then?” He turns his head away from you, and you spot the (quite frankly) atrocious brown car parked on the curb.

“That’s my ride.” He’s defensive, and you get the feeling that it isn’t about the car. You raise your hand in surrender, but he doesn’t relax - in a way, it’s nice to know that you’re probably not the reason he looks ready to pull a Flash and run as soon as the chance to do so opened up for him.

“You’re parked in front of my ride,” you reply, reaching into your bag and pulling the keys out. You let them twirl around your finger as you turn and walk towards your car, looking over your shoulder at him. “Am I going to need to make a stop at home to get the old suit out?” Somehow, that actually brings a smile to Dick’s face, and he ducks his head slightly as he chuckles.

“I just need you,” he calls out, finally pulling a hand out of his pockets and raising it in your direction to let you see the phone in his palm that’s open to your texts with him. There’s a new one that is likely the address of whatever safehouse he was holed up in.

You try not to linger on his words for too long.

“They’re hot,” you hear Jason say. It’s followed immediately by a yelp - presumably from Dick either elbowing him or punching his arm - and a “you’re way too young for that.” Despite yourself, you grin.

You’d missed him. Even if you weren’t going to admit it to his face.

When you finally make it to the address Dick sends you, he’s not even the one who lets you pass Bruce’s more-than-extensive security system. It’s Jason who does that.

Instead, you find Dick bent over the bathroom sink, the blade of a scalpel pressed to the skin of his arm. There’s also an unconscious body cuffed to the shower behind him, but you compartmentalize that for later.

“Are you okay?” At the sound of your voice, DIck freezes - like a deer caught in headlights - and looks up at you. You can see him visibly relax as he lets out a sigh that works to relieve some of the tension wound up in his body. You raise an eyebrow, and walk over to him.

“It’s not what you think,” he tells you, then uses the scalpel to motion towards the device discarded on the white porcelain. You pick it up, turning it over in your hands. “Bruce planted a tracker, in me, and I’m trying to-”

“Cut him out?” you finish, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Cut it out,” he corrects.

“I know what I said.” You watch through the mirror’s reflection as he finally makes the incision, thick red blood pouring down his arm and dripping into the sink. You’re already opening the cabinet to find gauze to wrap his arm with. “Let me see that-” The ringtone coming from the phone between you two cuts you off. You look at him. And then you look down at the screen. The name Kori flashes across it.

“New girlfriend?” you dare to ask, meeting his eyes in the mirror. Dick purses his lips, swiping a bloody thumb over the screen to deny the call before he’s reaching for the tweezers.

“No,” He grits his teeth, maneuvering the metal tweezers in the wound he made. “We just met,” Dick adds, meeting your eyes again. For his sake, you offer a tentative smile. He sighs, and finally retracts a tracker that resembles a battery watch. It falls into your open hand. You’re glad for the distraction, because - shit.

Those eyes.

Dick possesses what you swear is the most beautiful shade of eyes you’ve ever seen, and he models them beautifully. Those baby blues were always going to be your downfall, and seeing them had been enough for you to call in a precious sick day at work so you could help him out on whatever case brings him to Chicago. They’re the reason you have a case in your car trunk containing a suit you swore to leave in the closet.

They make you realize you can be so weak.

“I’m not dating right now,” Dick continues, filling in the space of your prolonged silence. He doesn’t take the gauze from your hand - even though he could - and instead, holds his arm out towards you so you can wrap it yourself. “Actually, I haven’t really seen anyone since I was with you.”

“I think that says less about what our relationship was, and more about you going full lone-wolf.” You hesitate to finish, and you keep a loose grip on his arm. His skin is warm. “The more you try to be the anti-Bruce, the more you’re becoming like him. You know that, right?” He’s not looking you in the eye anymore. Anger isn’t what drives him to do that, you think - it’s more like a combination of guilt, of the expression of a kid who thinks he’s a disappointment to the people leaning on him. People shouldn’t lean on a kid.

“I’m working on it.”

“I know.” Finally, you set the roll of gauze aside and release his arm. It allows you to take the chance to reach for him and make him look at you again. “And thank you,” you add. “For coming to see me.” He manages another smile, reaching up to cover your hand in his. You know what he would do if you were still dating. He would’ve pressed a kiss to your hand, and he would laugh it off, probably with some sort of cheeky quip. A I knew you missed me too much or I’d come by to see you any day.

You’re not dating anymore. And it’s confusing as hell, because sometimes it feels like you still are. On the rare days that he still calls you for no reason to tell you about a case from work he’s stuck on, or to remind you that you made a promise to see him, pairing it with a good tease about how seeing him in the new uniform would probably be too much for you. On those nights, Robin isn’t flying solo on the streets of Detroit.

“The lead brought me to Chicago,” he explains, tilting his head in the direction of the man lying in the shower.

“Is it a work case?”

“Not exactly. It’s-” you anticipate the familiar complicated. The word doesn’t come. “There’s a lot I need to update you on,” he settles on saying instead, running stained hands under the sink. “And if it’s Chicago, you’re going to be my number one. Right?”

“Right,” you agree, traces of amusement seeping into your tone as you cross your arms. “I called in sick at work,” you add. “Am I going to need to make up an excuse for the rest of the week?” The question, lighthearted as it’s supposed to be, holds weight to it that neither of you acknowledge.

“I’m probably going to be out of the state in a couple of days,” Dick says instead of answering, drying his hands off with a towel. He lets it drop in the sink, walking back out in the hallway with you. “You don’t need to - it’s a lot. And there’s these guys I’m kind of traveling with-”

“Dick.”

When he faces you, it’s your turn to shove hands in your pockets to avoid wringing them out in front of him. You take a deep breath, leaning back on your heels to look at him. “You didn’t need to find me,” you tell him. “That Jason kid? He wouldn’t be sticking around if he couldn’t be decent backup for this.”

“Are you detective-ing me out right now?” Dick’s actually trying not to laugh. You’re not sure if you should hit him or not.

“That’s not a word!”

“You know what I mean! And yes! I’m trying to figure out what’s going on with you!” By now, he’s actually laughing - and even if a part of you is annoyed, sure, there’s more of you that just feels relief. Because you can’t remember the last time he’d laughed like that, either, and it gives you a bit of hope.

Hope that the parts of him you fell in love with aren’t as lost as you thought.

“There’s a lot,” he admits, shifting his weight and trying to step back so he isn’t crowding you in the hall. “I know - the Bruce thing, you’re sick of that bullshit. I got a lot going on.” His phone starts up again, and this time, he pulls it out. The fluorescent light washes out his skin, but you can see his expression sober up. “I need to take this.” The traces of laughter in his voice are gone, and it feels like he’s slipping away again. There’s frustration that must show on your face, because he reaches out to you and moves a stray lock of hair out of your eyes in a silent apology.

“Go.” You manage not to sound as bitter as you feel - and with him, it’s not a bitterness that’s always there, but it inevitably creeps up on you. The same way the shadow of a bat hangs over him. Dick nods, and you start to walk away when he grabs your wrist again.

“You aren’t my backup for this,” he says firmly, and you know you’re fucked. Because he’s looking at you with those eyes, and it’s like you’re in that airport with him all over again, with nothing but empty promises and a broken relationship the two of you are hanging onto by a thread. “You’re-” he falters. He hesitates, and you’re ready to watch Dick Grayson walk away from you again.

“You’re everything.”

DC Taglist:

@cipheress-to-k-pop

#🌙 #📰.dc #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagines #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagines #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #dc imagines #dick grayson fic #titans imagines #reader imagines #gender neutral reader #dick grayson #nightwing #titans #dc comics

[darling-i-read-it]

Secretary

Patrick Bateman x reader

Word Count: 1.2k 

Warnings: murder 

Author’s Note: Y’all asked and y’all shall receive. I’m sorry I don’t open requests for Patrick that much but I’m like WAY to protective of his image and his character i don’t believe in doing any kind of regular fluff with him so I’m super picky. 

Summary: You’re Paul Allens secretary and you are much better than Jean 

Genre: m u r d e r 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif)

Most people that worked or lived around Patrick Bateman rarely gave him a second glance. In fact, he had done that almost on purpose. It was easier for him to be mistaken for Marcus Halberstram than be known as Patrick Bateman. That way he could fit in and fly under the radar.

You gave him a second thought. Which wasn’t all that it was chalked up to be when it came down to it. People always thought that being noticed was this big thing but for Patrick it was like a stab in a gut, especially when things started to get bad. 

You worked in the office with him but you only saw each other every once in a while. You happened to be Paul Allen's secretary which was the kicker because he needed to get Allen out of the picture. He started to work up ways that he could do that while involving you, some way to get you on his side just enough because he knew that you knew where Paul was at all times. He pretended not to be jealous that Paul’s secretary was so diligent while Jean rarely knew past dinners and lunches. 

This was where the annoyance of being noticed stepped in.

See, you knew he was Patrick and not Marcus. He had to get Paul alone but also near a room where Marcus was so that when Paul told you he was going to dinner with Marcus you would believe him. You were focused and hot and Patrick figured if he had to he could probably kill you but he would rather avoid the mess.

You sat at your desk and Jean was sitting on top of your desk, talking to you about something quickly. The conversation looked interesting and it did peak Patrick's interests. What things did secretaries talk about? Was Jean gossiping about him? Better yet, were you gossiping about Paul and the Fisher account?

He walked up to the two of you and Jean quickly stood up, nearly stumbling over on her heels. 

“You’re supposed to be at lunch with Craig Mcdermott Patrick,” she said. He let out a sigh.

“I cancelled that lunch two days ago.” He had not. Craig was probably still sitting in the seats of the Texarkana waiting for him and he would no doubt get a call soon that he had stood him up but he didn’t care. 

“Oh,” Jean muttered and then went to double check her notes in her planner she was holding. Patrick turned to you.

“Hi babe, can you tell me where Paul is supposed to be tomorrow night?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Why would I do that?” 

“Because I asked you to,” he said through gritted teeth. He wasn’t a fan of people talking back to him especially when you were at a much lower position. He tried to be civil though to get what he wanted.

You glanced at the planner.

“He’s having dinner with Marcus Halberstram. Why?” 

“Ah, I was hoping to catch him. Thank you Y/N,” he said, nodding slowly and then putting on his sunglasses. You noted that it wasn’t a particularly sunny day outside but let him walk away.

The day he killed Paul his mind was on you. Well it wasn’t exactly on you but you crossed his mind and it made him worry a little bit that he hadn’t covered his tracks as well as he thought he had.

When he showed up at your door you had just gotten home from work, finishing up some things that Paul hadn’t finished himself. You looked at him, a raincoat in his hand, folded together and a crazed look in his eyes. He gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes at all, the fakeness of it oozing off of his lips. 

“Patrick?” He looked confused for a split second and then realized that was in fact his name. He had gotten used to answering to Marcus.

“Yes?” You waited for him to explain why he was here and when he didn’t you leaned against the door.

“Patrick what are you doing here?”

You lived a few floors down but in the same building as Paul which is how he got your address so easily. He had just left the body up there and a voice mail and he couldn’t even answer with something that would make sense. 

“Is Paul here?”

“No, he’s at dinner with Marcus. I told you that yesterday.” He nodded, looking up and down the empty hallway. 

“Can I come in?” You were utterly confused but you had no reason to turn him in.

“Sure.”

You moved aside and he walked in behind you to the living room that was directly in front of the door. He looked around and was delighted to see that while your apartment was civil and modern looking it was nowhere near as expensive as his.

“Do you want me to hang that up?” you asked, pointing to the rain coat. He looked down at it and laughed dryly. 

“Negative. Throw it away.” You snorted and shrugged.

“Alright, it’s your coat.” 

You took it from him and he ventured further into your apartment. You unfolded it a bit and found it stained with a sticky red substance that seemed to splatter around. You ignored that and put it in the garbage, pushing it out of your mind.

“Why do you need to see Paul so bad?” you asked. “Maybe I could help you out, I know a lot of what he does.”

“Do you want to work for me?” he asked, turning around from your wall of windows. He thought briefly about the fact that people in the building across the way could probably see you changing with such big windows. The safety of that was slim.

“I work for Paul,” you explained.

“Paul was telling me that he had to go to London for an indefinite amount of time.” He looked more relaxed now than when he had come in but you couldn’t shake the look on his face so you didn’t let your guard down.

“What about Jean?”

“Fired her. Yesterday.” You scoffed, leaning against the back of the couch.

“Why?”

“She wasn’t as good as you.”

“Patrick you’re acting weird.”

“I just killed your boss.”

“Patrick don’t make jokes.” You walked around the couch and sat on the arm of it. “I’ll talk to Paul if I can and then get back to you tomorrow. I assume he’s going to be drunk tonight though so you’ll have to be patient.” 

Patrick gave you the award winning, charming and unsettling playboy grin. 

“I’m plenty patient.”

#patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagines #american psycho imagines

[regenlen]

For @dmc-oc-week!

It’s here! Normally this is where some sweet art would go, but I can do stick figures at best so you’re going to have to use your imagination.

Instead, have a fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25111381 

It's a longfic about Nero and Vergil's search for answers about Nero's mother, Mel, and what became of her. It’s 115+k words of alternating between the present day, where the two of them (with some help) investigate what happened to Mel and why she seemingly disappeared and abandoned Nero, and the past through Vergil’s flashbacks to his time with her.

One part mystery, one part Sparda family drama, one part a study of traumatized men and their emotional constipation, and one part regret simulator: the Vergil edition. If you’ve got time to kill, please do check it out! Below is the prologue to help give a little taste.

One warm day in June, at the apex of the Qliphoth, a fight to the death unfolds between two brothers of blood whose ideals have repeatedly sent them on a collision course with each other. But this fight isn’t destined to end like the others have. It starts out rather similarly, but things take a turn when Dante drops a very, very unexpected bombshell on Vergil. “You cut off your own son’s arm for this?”

Vergil hears the words, but he doesn’t really process them. He just reacts at the opening Dante’s left. He quick-steps and slashes Dante, slicing open a wound in his shoulder before Dante can get his sword up to block. What he does process is Dante’s judgmental, angry tone, and he instinctively balks against it. “My son means nothing to me!” He says the words without actually thinking through the ramifications. (Noticing a pattern here yet?)

He’s met with absolute fury. Dante yells and summons Cerberus. Vergil barely realizes it’s out before it’s hooked his right ankle. He’s yanked forward and has to awkwardly hop to try and steady himself. It leaves him wide open to a slam from Dante’s sword, and he’s sent careening across the arena. It smarts, and Vergil struggles to get going again. But he’s ready when Dante comes charging. Just in the nick of time he dodges his attack and counters with a swipe of Yamato. Dante barely manages to block the blow with his sword, but the force of the attack has him sailing away and colliding against one of the pillars at the edge of the arena.

Vergil falls to a crouch, breathing deeply to try and regain his strength. As his adrenaline subsides and allows him to think clearly again, Dante’s earlier words finally sink in. Did he just say…? He shakes his head in disbelief and looks up at Dante. He can’t believe – but when – what?! “Nero… is my son?”

“Yeah, dumbass,” Dante says. “You can’t remember through that thick skull of yours?”

His son. He has a son. That boy whom he had maimed, who had helped him when he had been at his lowest and had been decent to him, is his flesh and blood. And yes, he can remember through his thick skull, because there’s only one person it could be. Even after the long passage of time and the havoc Mundus’s torture wrought on his mind, he remembers her. The realization releases an onslaught of heartbreak and regret. “Well, well… That was a long time ago.”

Dante laughs a little. “I guess you were young once, too.”

He had been once, yes. Young and ambitious and very, very foolish. It hurts to think about it. He doesn’t want to think about it. He wants to focus on this fight and not on the torrent of emotions swirling in his head. Vergil assumes a battle stance, and Dante begins to do the same.

“As much as I’d love to hear that story,” Dante says, “I think it’s about time we…”

“Ended this,” Vergil finishes, fully assuming his pose. They can’t ignore this fight. They need to settle this, for once and for all. It beats dwelling on things he can’t change.

They bring out their super powered devil forms and hurl themselves at each other in a last bid to conclude their feud. But of course, nothing ever goes the way the brothers expect, because there’s one thing they didn’t count on: Nero.

There’s a flash of light and the deafening sound of something hitting the ground at an alarming speed. The brothers find themselves halted dead in their tracks, held back by the only other person who has a say in this feud of theirs.

When Dante and Vergil just manage to process what’s happening, they’re shoved back and sent skidding across the ground.

“What form of power is this?” Vergil wonders at the spectral arms resting on Nero’s back. But more than that, he’s gobsmacked by how Nero had managed to not only reobtain the power he’d been robbed of, but how he also had become stronger in such a short amount of time.

“What the hell?” Dante groans from across the way.

“This ends, right here.” Nero looks at neither his uncle nor father, but he’s clearly addressing both of them.

Vergil grimaces as he stands up. This is an unexpected development, to say the least. Nero initially had come to this city to kill him. Vergil didn’t think that would change, even after learning the truth. But it seems the boy has another goal in mind. He wants to make sense of it, but his mind still reels at the implication that this young man is his son. Yes, he looks like him and has the same powers, but he still can’t quite believe…

“Listen to me,” Dante seethes as he walks towards Nero. “I told you already, this is not your-”

Nero doesn’t even blink as of those arms lashes out with frightening speed and hits Dante square in the jaw. He goes down like a sack of bricks.

“You listen, dead weight. I won’t let you kill each other. There are other ways of settling your differences.” Nero turns, fist gripped tightly as he slowly approaches Vergil. “I’m putting a stop to this sibling rivalry.”

And for a moment, Vergil isn’t on the Qliphoth, but in a small apartment in Fortuna. And it’s not Nero staring him down, but a young woman with short, curly blonde hair and green eyes. She and Nero hardly look alike, but they share the same determined stare and set of their jaw.

Vergil shoves the memory aside, trying to forget that face and the conflicting emotions it brings with it. He instead forces out a laugh. “Ahh, you came all this way just for that.”

“Vergil… V… whatever you call yourself, Dante’s not going to die here and neither are you. Do you have a problem with that?”

Yes, he did come all this way just to stop them. Vergil thinks it’s a bit foolish; how does he think he’ll go about doing this, exactly?

“‘Not gonna die,’ my ass,” Dante complains as he sits up, rubbing his jaw. “That bitch slap nearly killed me.”

Dante’s words bring Vergil out of his reverie. They also set off that part of his brain that short circuits his sense of logic. Because instead of trying to level with his son like a normal person should, he hyperfixates again on his grudge match with Dante. He nods and swings Yamato into his other hand. “If I beat Nero… then by default, I beat you.” He points Yamato at Nero. “Agreed, Dante?”

“Whatever. I don’t really care. I’m just gonna sit this one out.” Dante falls back onto the ground.

There’s a heavy moment of silence as Nero’s expression hardens, unflinching in the face of Yamato’s blade pointing at him. “When this is over, I’ll make you submit…” Those spectral arms lift up, and the hands crack their knuckles. “Father.”

Father. It pulls at a heartstring Vergil never knew he had, and with it, he realizes just a moment too late that maybe, just maybe this isn’t a good idea. Now faced with actually having to fight his own son, doubt creeps in. Vergil slowly circles back a bit. When Nero swings out his sword, Vergil’s back goes ramrod straight. No, I can’t do this. I shouldn’t have- “Stand down,” he says. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Nothing to do with me?!” Nero shouts. “It has everything to do with me!”

“Nero…”

FUCK YOU!” Nero flips him off and transforms into his devil state.

Vergil now has no choice but to fight. But as Nero charges at him, sword swung out, an amused thought crosses his mind: …you are, without a doubt, your mother’s son.

#dmcocweek #fic #devil may cry #devil may cry 5 #vergil #dante #nero

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Reunion

Jason Todd & Damian Wayne (Corvid AU)

Word Count: 1109

Summary: Reunions are sometimes pretty sweet.

He was out of town when it all went down, but he’d have to be dead again in order to have not heard about ‘Bruce Wayne’s Biologicals Son Coming Out of the Woodwork’ and the whole snafu in Gotham that’d followed. A smile crept its way onto Jason’s face as he entered city limits. If Damian was here, it was likely you weren’t far behind. His little hellion family would be reunited soon enough

First though, he had to reestablish his hold on Crime Ally now that he was back . . .

~

As fate would have it (or rather, as Oracle’s stalker-like knack for tracking the batfam would have it), Jason found Bruce waiting for him next to his favorite gargoyle right as he was about to call it a night.

“Old man,” he greeted, hand falling to the gun at his hip just in case this turned ugly.

“Jason.”

Wow, my real name. He’s gotta be freaking out more than I thought.

“Come by the manor tomorrow. You need to meet your brother.”

“Why? Tim not up to it?” Jason’s mouth was running despite the fact that he was definitely going to be there. “Or did the brat already get Dickhead to back off? I heard he’s feral even compared to me.”

Bruce’s jaw clenched, bringing a smile to Jason’s covered face. “He wants to meet you.”

“He looked you up after he hacked into the Batcomputer,” Barbara’s voice came through the helmet’s speakers before Jason could voice his confusion.

“First a kid steals your tires, now one breaks into your super-secret files. What kind of riff-raff are you letting into the manor these days, Brucie?”

“Dinner. Tomorrow. Be there.”

Jason snickered at the tightness of Batman’s voice as the caped vigilante dove into the night. “Fucking tool,” he muttered to the empty air.

“You really shouldn’t antagonize him, Hood.”

“And you really need to get off my comms before I have Roy download all sorts of horse porn onto your rig.”

There was a quiet chuckle. “Missed you too, Jason.”

Right. Now to bed.

~

He’s taller, was all Jason could think as he stepped into the cave and laid on the boy he’d helped raise for years that was now standing right in front of him. The change in height hadn’t changed the kid, though, based on the tense excitement that had Damian practically vibrating.

A flicker of movement to the side--Bruce skulking about--gave Jason pause. As subtle as he could, he shook his head and zipped through the League Sign Language for, “Safehouse. Tonight.”

Outwardly, Damian didn’t acknowledge him, but a veil of false calm dropped over the boy, stilling his movements. Talia would be proud. “You must be the dead one,” his lightly-accented voice greeted coldly.

They must be trying to hide his real heritage, thought Jason in response to that smothered accent. Shame. “Bold talk from a kid that had to be moved to fucking Gotham of all places for protection.”

“Boys!” Bruce’s bark announced his arrival into earshot.

“Oh relax, Brucie,” Jason soothed sarcastically with an easy smile as he ruffled his adopted son’s hair, much to the kid’s mock-disdain. “We’re just messin’ around.”

“Still. Enough. Both of you get upstairs; your brothers are waiting for you.”

“Oh joy. The mean Robins get to meet with the happy one and the depressed one.”

“Damian isn’t Robin.”

“Not yet,” Damian snapped. “It’s my right as--”

“You’re not doing anything until you learn to follow the Rule.”

Damian’s silence spoke volumes about his thoughts on that Rule.

~

Jason was on the roof of his apartment building waiting for Damian come midnight that same night. He had no doubt the kid could slip through any defenses Bruce had constructed with the intent to cage him, and Jason had slid a note with the address into his pocket earlier. Now it was just a matter of--Nevermind. Speak of the Devil.

The kid stumbled during his landing because of the obvious excitement that coursed through him. “Baba!” he shouted as he tackled Jason in a tight hug.

“Hey, Dami,” Jason greeted, the first genuine smile he’d had in months blooming on his face. “It’s been a while.”

“Whose fault is that, asshole?” the kid snapped even though he didn’t loosen his grip in the slightest. 

A chuckle bubbled up from Jason’s chest. “Your mama would be pissed if she heard you talkin’ like that.”

“Yeah, pissed at you.” His face was still buried in Jason’s stomach due to the hug. Not that Jason wanted to let him go any time soon.

“Good point,” he admitted.

Those big, green eyes--so similar to the Pit without him having to take a dip in it--turned to look up at him. “Why didn’t you want Father to know we’ve met before?”

At that, Jason sighed. “I don’t know if you’ve been around long enough to have figured it out, but dear old Dad doesn’t exactly like me. I don’t want him judging you for me having ‘tainted’ you or something.”

“I am not ashamed--”

“Neither am I, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re still my kid. God knows it’d kill Bruce to show anyone any affection, so someone’s gotta treat you right.”

If possible, the hug got tighter. “I’ve read his files on you, and I won’t ask why Father doesn’t like you.”

Damn if the kid wasn’t freakishly perceptive, because Jason had been dreading answering that question. Because I’m not Dick, because I’m a street rat to the core, because I think for myself instead of blindly following his orders, because I’m too angry, because I got myself blown the fuck up--

“But know that I also don’t care. You and mama were there for me.” Damian didn’t bother to add ‘when no one else was.’

“Love you too, Dami. This place will always be here if you want to get away from the manor . . . or just want to see me.”

“Thank you, Baba.”

Now, Jason crouched so he could meet Damian eye-to-eye. “And don’t worry about your Mama.” The kid looked away abruptly as if he’d been caught. Jason gently directed Damian’s attention back to his face so he could see just how serious Jason was. “My friends are already looking for her. We’re going to find her.”

The kid scoffed despite the relief scrawled all over his face. “As if you could if she didn’t want you to.”

Jason barked a laugh. “True, but both of us are here now. Do you really think she’d want to stay away?”

“ . . . No.”

Good, ‘cause she showed up earlier tonight, and now I just need to convince her that you won’t reject her.

#jason todd & damian wayne #jason & damian #DC corvid AU #dc imagine #this wasn't requested #but i had an idea and had to run with it

[burnedbyshoto]

Under the Mistletoe

pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warning: smut, cursing, fluff

word count: 8,467

a/n: I didn’t want to edit this last night so lmao... sorry!!!!! anyways, this is super cute and yall should like.....read it :D

Synopsis: The mistletoe tradition is known by all, and if used correctly it can end in a sweet moment. Too bad Todoroki Shouto believes that people fuck under the mistletoe and not kiss under it.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“So you’re telling me that when two people meet under a mistletoe they have to...” Shouto trails off as he looks at the green plant nestled in between his fingers. “They have to—”

“They have to fuck, yes,” Kaminari nods his head. 

His arms are crossed over his chest, his eyes closed as he nods. His words, of course, are a flat out lie, but to Todoroki Shouto it seems as if his friend is speaking the truth. “It’s why it was never put up during our Christmas celebrations at school! With some of you guys not turning eighteen until after Christmas and all. That could have turned out to be child porn or something!”

“I haven’t had sex though,” Shouto huffs as he throws the mistletoe towards the blond who yells as it hits his head. “I don’t think I want to be caught underneath it. Didn’t Mineta wear a hat with it attached to it last week though?”

“Yeah, but that’s the only way Mineta can get girls, plus didn’t you see how the girls avoided him like the plague?” Sero pipes in, a large grin on his face as he takes the mistletoe and throws it above Kaminari’s head.

Shouto, however, sees this as a substantial poof.

“Bro, are you telling me you wanna fuck?” Kaminari winks as he looks up at the mistletoe.

“No, I just don’t think you’ll ever get to smash without this either!” Sero laughs as Kaminari slaps the mistletoe from Sero’s grasp.

“Would you fucking bastards GET OFF YOUR ASSES and come fucking help out?!” Bakugou roars as he enters the living room where the three men were sitting around.

Shouto stands up first, his eyes looking at the mistletoe that lays innocently on the floor. White people were pretty weird for starting that tradition.

Of course, it wasn’t to say that Shouto didn’t want to meet anyone under the mistletoe! Had it been a tradition where he would get to kiss someone it would be different, but fucking? Having sex only because you were caught under a plant was a bit too much.

“Todoroki-kun, are you okay?” Midoriya asked as he walked while hold two tables to put up for the dinner. The boys of the since graduated class 1-A were in charge of hosting the first annual Christmas party. Of course on because Iida volunteered them all.

Shouto nodded his head as he smiled strained, “I’m going to be avoiding the mistletoe all night.”

Midoriya looked at the fallen plant as he quirked an eyebrow, “Really? I thought it could be a great idea to get— mmph?!”

Shouto’s eyes widened as he saw Kaminari, Sero, and Kirishima covering the One for All user’s mouth. They began dragging him away, their mouths at his ear as they whispered at him.

“Todoroki-kun, Kirishima-kun!” Iida yelled as he brisked over with red cloth in his hands, “I need your help in spreading snow out in front of the house! It hasn’t snowed enough yet!”

“Iida, what do you think about mistletoe?” Shouto asks as Kirishima jogs over to them.

“It’s a weird tradition,” Iida admits as he rubs the back of his neck. “But there’s too much to do, and the girls will be here within an hour!”

“Don’t worry bro,” Kirishima laughs as he slings an arm around Shouto’s shoulder. “Just avoid the mistletoe! Unless... you want us to send y/l/n-chan your way!”

Shouto couldn’t hide the flush the built on his cheeks at those words. The joyous laughter of Kirishima’s teasing didn’t help either.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Shouto stared at himself in the mirror.

Iida had insisted on formal wear tonight. He believed their first Christmas celebration outside of U.A. was a cause to ditch the Santa gear. It was definitely weird celebrating Christmas with his friends and not wearing the Santa suits.

But Shouto chose a dark navy blue suit, a white button-up, and a slim black tie. His fingers buttoned one of the buttons on his jacket before putting in silver cuff links. He was ready.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Shouto placed his clothes into the designated room. It seemed, however, that he was the last one ready as everyone else was sitting at the grand table. It had been beautifully prepared by Sato and Tokoyami. The aroma of the cooking food filled the air causing Shouto to sigh, he was quite hungry.

“Bakugou, where’s the mistletoe?” Shouto asked his ash-blond friend who was walking around with his hands shoved into his pockets. Shouto watched as Bakugou groaned as he whipped around towards him.

“What makes you think I would fucking know, hah?” Bakugou grunts as he rolls his eyes. “It’s hidden for a goddamn reason, you’re not supposed to know!”

“Would you help me look for it?” Shouto asks as he rubs the back of his neck.

“HAH?! Why the hell would I look for it with YOU, half and half bastard?! Are you trying to—?” Bakugou’s mouth was then taped shut. Shouto watched on in confusion as the ash blond’s attention was stolen by Sero; who was now running away in his white tux from the storming blond.

“Why aren’t they just being bizarre!” Aoyama dramatized from Shouto’s left. Glancing over, Shouto chuckled at his friend dressed in a literal suit of armor that was blinding to the eye. “Now, are you confessing your feelings to Mademoiselle y/n? Christmas is the most romantic time to do so!”

Before Shouto could speak to the smirking blond, Iida bursts into the dining area with coats in his arms.

“The ladies have arrived!” He announced.

Shouto watched as six girls entered the room talking amongst themselves.

They all wore Christmas appropriate formal dresses, and yet his heart fell as he was quick to see that you weren’t there.

Where were you?

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“I know I’m very late!” You exclaim into your phone as you struggle to shove the dark red evening dress over your body.

You weren’t supposed to have stayed as late at work as you did.

Missing the bullet train back to your apartment, you had completely missed the preparation for the party. Lucky for you, your neighbor had a useful quirk that let him do makeup and hair in ten minutes. So after offering him your soul (a promised meeting from his favorite Pro Hero Froppy), he agreed to do it.

The formal wear, however, was a bit too much in your opinion.

One month ago Iida had sent out appropriate outfits to gather ideas of what to wear for today. To put it simply he wanted a full-blown ball gown for a party for twenty-one of you.

So there you sat in your room, pulling the dark red dress into place. It had a semi sweetheart neckline, the bodice was made of soft velvet, and the skirt was multiple layers of red lace. Overall it was cute and simple. Slipping on your white heels you grabbed your coat and presents for your friends. Placing your phone to your ear you raced out to where the taxi was waiting for you.

“Iida won’t let anyone eat until you’re here! And I’m positive Bakugou is going to kill Midoriya out of a hangry fit if you don’t get here quick!” Mina once again tells you as you give the taxi driver the address.

“It’s not my fault villains decided to be villains where I work! Had it been my decision I would’ve been there with you guys! Plus it’s starting to snow,” you sigh as you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Tell Iida you guys can start eating, I’m not offended!”

“Girl, I told him that one hour ago, and again right before I called. Trust me, we’re not touching the food until you’re here!”

“Wow, you didn’t even want to wait for me?” You tease as you watch as the taxi drives into familiar areas.

“You know I’m teasing, besides loverboy here won’t let anyone eat until you get here too~!” Mina giggles in her sing-song tone.

“Don’t call Shouto that!” You groan as you try to calm your flaring cheeks. “We’re friends!”

“Friends who have the sexual tension that brings god to her knees! And the romantic chemistry that makes the cutest couple tremble in jealousy!” Mina exclaims. “Don’t worry, we saved you the seat right between him and me!”

“Mina!”

“Oh, gotta go! Bakugou AND your precious Shouto~ are demanding an update, see ya soon cutie!”

“Mina—”

The line went dead as you puffed out your cheeks.

Sometimes Mina was too slippery for her own good.

The rest of the taxi drive was quiet. Your taxi driver most likely wanting to get you out as soon as possible to go home themselves. Your eyes focused down at your cellphone that was getting text messages demanding your location.

Most of which was spam from Kaminari and Uraraka who seemed to be the most starving. Sighing, you shared your location with the class’s group chat for the next twenty-four hours. So they could track you for the next few minutes it would take for you to get there.

kaminari: i dont think ive ever been this excited to see y/n in my life… ever… and im 98% sure i had a crush on her 0.0

you: omg i told you guys you could EAT stop HARASSING ME

sero: tru lets blame iida

iida: You all would have been very upset had we eaten without you! Besides, this is our family so we have to wait, it’s only polite. - Iida Tenya

mina: …

you: …

midoriya: …

kirishima: i thought someone ingrained it into iida that he doesnt have to text… like that…

momo: I believe it is okay, Iida-san! It is confusing to know who’s texting on this chat! Sincerly, Yaoyorozu Momo

bakugou: hurry the FUCK UP Y/N

you: id rather die

“We’re here,” the driver sighs as they turn around. “That’ll be 2,000 yen.”

You smile in gratefulness as you pull out two 2,000 yen. “It’s a tip for working on a holiday, thank you!”

“Happy holidays.”

“To you as well!”

You stepped out of the car and closed the door behind you. Your eyes fluttering as you watch the snow fall in front of you. A shiver runs through your spine as you pull your coat tighter around yourself. Holding the presents closer to you, you walk down to the front door. You take notice of the heaps of snow in front of the lawn and grin. Although you had no evidence, you bet Iida made Shouto and Kirishima create snow unknowing that it was going to snow this much.

Opening the grand door, warmth and the waft of cooking food invaded your senses. Removing your coat, you heard chairs scraping against the floor as a small mob of people raced to greet you.

“Merry Christmas!”

“Season greetings!”

“I’m so fucking hungry, thank Santa you’re here!”

“Move bitches I get the first hug!”

“Let me grab her coat first!”

It had been a while since you had last seen everyone. But in this moshpit of who you would consider being among your best friends, it warmed your heart. “Thank you, Iida,” you smile as he nodded in response.

“You followed the guidelines quite well, you look great!” Iida compliments as he turns to put your coat away.

“Of course she looks great, we all went out together to a dress shop!” Jirou sighs as she pulls you into a hug.

You greeted everyone, hugging them all as you went until you finally found the one person you wanted to see. His hair styled slicked back and his hands rested in his pockets as he smiled at you. Your face felt like it was heating up as you stepped closer to him.

“Merry Christmas, Shouto,” you smile as the dual-colored man smiles at you. You pull him into a hug.

“Merry Christmas, y/n,” he mumbles into your hair. “I’ll take those from you?” Shouto offers as he grabs the bag with the presents.

“Thank you,” you say letting go of the bag.

Shouto nodded as he turns on his heel to put the presents away.

“TIME TO EAT!” Kirishima and Kaminari roar as everyone starts making their way back to the dining table.

“Just to let you know, there is a mistletoe somewhere here, in case you want to make a move,” Mina whispers in your ear.

Oh, this dinner seemed like it was going to get increasingly harder to stay composed.

xxx

“It’s present opening time!” Iida exclaims as he ushers the class into the living room where the tree and presents resided. “Please have a seat, Yaomomo and I have organized the different piles for everyone! Until you have been seated will you receive your pile!”

You were talking with Tsuyu as you entered the living room. Your eyes shining as you took in a beautifully decorated living room.

“You boys did an amazing job at decorating!” You exclaim as you grin, the night had been going perfectly so far.

Dinner had been lively and hilarious. Old banter and topics bleed into the night’s conversation made your heart ache for the old days. It seemed so long ago when you spent every day for three years with these guys. You missed it.

With Mina at your left who discussed her new fighting style. Shouto at your right who talked about his life at home. His family had finally was becoming something he loved completely. While you two had late night discussions talking about it no one else knew about it. It was invigorating to see Shouto grin and laugh in conversations. His old dense self was still ingrained in him yet he’s grown so much since his fifteenth year. You were proud of him.

You watched as Tsuyu took a seat on the couch, her eyes trained on you as she spoke. You moved to sit next to her until something shoved you to the side.

“Oh, that’s my seat!” Mina exclaimed as she sat next to Tsuyu, her smile large as your eyebrow rose. “There’s more, don’t worry!”

You turned around and saw a seat near Midoriya who was near Tsuyu. It seemed you could continue your conversation about her position as a Hero Commander. Midoriya would like that conversation as well.

“That’s my spot!” Uraraka shouts as you were about to sit down. You sighed as you stood back up, your eyes raking the couches for a place to sit.

“There’s a spot by Todoroki-kun,” Midoriya said pointing at Shouto. Shouto was sitting on a seat that was a bit too large for one person, but too small for two.

“Thanks,” you smile as you walk over to Shouto. “You mind if I squeeze in next to you?”

Shouto looks at you, his eyes intense as he shakes his head, “No, go ahead and sit.”

You sat at his left with a grin. Your body pressing into his left arm as he concentrated on Iida, and with a nudge, you captured his attention. “I hope you like the gift I bought for you,” you whisper as Iida begins handing out the piles of gifts to each person. Ojiro helping as they were big.

“I don’t think I could hate anything you could give me,” Shouto whispers back as he grabs his pile from Iida.

“Random panties I find on patrol?”

“I’d be honored you thought of me.”

“That’s so gross, Shouto,” you laugh as you take your own pile from Ojiro.

“You’re the one touching random panties from the streets of Japan!” Shouto retorts as he helps you settle your pile onto the floor.

“Touche, Shouto,” you grin as you shove him with your shoulder, “touche.”

“Because it is Uraraka-kun’s birthday coming up, she should go first!” Iida suggests and everyone agrees.

“Oh, I need to tell you something,” Shouto whispers as you cheer on Uraraka who is lifting a gift over her head.

“What is it?” You ask turning your head towards him.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he whispers before focusing back in onto Uraraka. She lifts out multiple bags of strawberry mochi with a triumphant scream.

“You look handsome tonight, too.”

It doesn’t take long before presents are being opened and you’re feeling content pressed into Shouto’s side.

From Aoyama, you got a crystal mirror that sparkled in the light. The poem about the North Star engraved into the back of the mirror.

From Mina, you got workout clothes specific to a dance class you and the girls were planning on attending together. They were in your favorite color and came with a jacket with your name stitched into it.

From Tsuyu, you got a plushie. It was of your favorite animal and held lots of tiny little snacks that you could carry during a patrol.

From Iida, he presented you with a pair of exercise shoes you had been needing for a while. After all, sparring with Bakugou and Midoriya left your old ones disintegrated.

From Uraraka, she bought you a charm bracelet that had two charms on it already. One of the U.A. building and another of a small group of girls.

Ojiro gave you got a new winter coat. It was white, waterproof and insulated. Your jaw on the ground as you tried it on because it made you look like a marshmallow and you adored that.

Kaminari gave you got his mixtape. On the cassette were a bunch of Kaminari originals he had been promising you for years now, and now you had a copy. That and a gift card to your favorite restaurant.

Kirishima gave you a new ankle and wrist weights. Something to help with your manly journey to becoming the best hero!

Koda bashfully announced that you were getting an all-inclusive trip to an animal and tea shop. Something he gifted everyone in the class, and an event you girls were quick to plan.

Sato gave you a free pass to let him bake you anything you wanted. Another gift given to all the girls, and another gift you girls were excited to use.

Shoji had gifted you a massage gun. Something you had enveloped him in a hug for minutes afterward because it was something you had been meaning to buy.

Jirou’s gift was in a white envelope, two VIP tickets to your favorite band. A very discounted item because her parents knew them and the fact that she was a Pro Hero too.

Sero’s gift was something that made you laugh, it was a high-quality blanket. Soft to the touch, with the ability to keep you warm in a blizzard! It had a class picture printed on it photoshopped with Kaminari’s wheey face onto everyone’s picture.

Tokoyami gave you a picture album with the class’s best memories. It also had many more blank pages for your own pictures.

Hagakure bought you a new set of makeup and brushes. Brushes that you had been eyeing the time you two had gone shopping together too!

Bakugou bought you a new outfit. It was definitely an outfit for warmer weather, and he got annoyed when you went to hug him.

Midoriya made you a present. It was two notebooks full of analysis and suggestions that you had asked for when sparring. You wanted to continue improving and Midoriya was definitely going to help you.

Mineta bought you a gift card to use at a local lingerie store. On the one hand, it had a lot of money on it, on the other hand, you wanted to destroy it.

Momo blushed as she stood up, her grin wide as she looked at everyone. She apologized about being able to properly buy everyone an honest gift as she had been busy these past few months. Nut she promised she made up for it. She had paid off everyone’s apartment/house rent or price. Or in Iida’s and Shouto’s case their groceries for four months.

“This is for you,” Shouto whispered as he handed you a thin rectangular box. “I didn’t want it getting smashed so, I held onto it. I didn’t forget to give you a gift.”

Your eyes focused on the gift that was wrapped in red and silver wrapping paper. Your fingers gently taking it from him as you nodded. Shouto had been giving everyone else gifts with things that reminded him of them. It had some of the most hilarious items to date. But the box told you nothing, no hint, no clue. The attention of the group was on Aoyama who was modeling the new outfits that were gifted to him.

His eyes bore into you as you opened the gift, your eyes widening as you opened the box. “Shouto…” you trailed off as you looked down at the simple yet gorgeous necklace that lay in the box. It had a single diamond on it, yet you knew that it was more expensive than anything you’ve ever bought in your life. “W-What?”

Shouto remained silent as he gently pulled the necklace from the box, he asked you wordlessly to turn around so that he could place it on you. You complied as you shifted in the seat.

“I promise I looked everywhere else for you before choosing this!” Shouto admits as his warm fingers push your hair to the side. The cold chain presses into your skin as you look down at the jewel. “But no matter what I looked at, this was the only thing I liked for you. So, no, I don’t regret or worry about buying you this because I know it was meant to be yours.” His breath teased your exposed skin and it took everything within you not to melt as he fixed your hair.

Not knowing how to thank him, you pulled him into a tight hug, your arms holding him near as he returned the hug. Your lips pressed gently against his cheek, “Thank you, Shouto.”

You pull away and look back to your friends who were still focused on Aoyama who did a spin. Your fingers grazed the shiny jewel, and you lay your head against his shoulder as you consume the fashion show laid out for you.

Xxx

“You’re confessing to him, right?!” Mina hisses as the girls called an impromptu meeting seconds before you were "about to kiss Shouto" on the couch.

“Mina-san, she was about to kiss Todoroki-san right before you ripped her from his grasp!” Momo sighed as gave you an apologetic smile.

“Y/n has liked him since high school! Her first kiss with Todoroki-kun is not going to be while Bakugou is modeling his clothes!” Hagakure defended Mina as she crossed her arms.

“First off, I was not going to kiss him,” you defend yourself as you point a sweeping finger at your friends. “I was going in to get lint in his hair!”

“There wasn’t lint in his hair,” Tsuyu chimed in to which everyone agreed.

“Leave her alone!" Jirou waves her hands, to which you thank her. "She was going to take the lint out with her teeth! To show him what that mouth do!”

Jirou snorts as you shove her.

“Do you see that rock on her neck?! You know she’s not gonna show him only what that mouth do, but also what her—!” Uraraka snickers as she was interrupted by the kitchen door opening.

“Y/n?” Shouto asks, his eyes wide as he sees that you’re flustered and pointing your fingers at them all. “Um… I was wondering if we could talk?”

“Right now?” You squeak as you smooth over your dress. “Of course right now, um, yes let’s go!” You declare, glaring at your friends as you walk towards Shouto. Grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the kitchen the door closing behind you.

“They put up the mistletoe outside right?” Momo whispers as she looks at Jirou who gives a thumbs up.

“Yes, Kaminari said they convinced Todoroki to talk with y/n outside.”

“Does… does Todoroki-kun even know what to do under the mistletoe?” Uraraka asks as she realizes her sheltered friend was still learning new things to this day.

“The boys must’ve explained it to him,” Hagakure insists as she nods. “You can’t fuck up explaining that you kiss someone under the mistletoe. Besides, they want them to get together too!”

Xxx

“Fuck, it’s cold,” you shiver as you wrap your jacket around you.

“Sorry,” Shouto apologizes as he grabs your hands in his. Heat immediately spreads through your skin. He was warming you up, the cold winter air is ignorable, as you and Shouto walk towards the edge of the porch. “There wasn’t any room in there that was private enough, and I needed to talk to you about something important.”

“Oof, don’t tell me you meant to give this necklace to some other girl named y/n,” you tease as you rest your back against the snow-covered railings. “If so, I’m going to need to fight both you and her for it.”

“No, no,” Shouto chuckles as his thumb rubs smooth circles into your skin. “But it is about the necklace.”

You nod your head as you squeeze his hand reassuringly, “What about it?”

“It’s not… too forward is it?” Shouto asks as he takes his right hand to brush your hair from your face. “If you think it’s too much I can take you to return it for something else you’d like.”

The worry and concern that are heavily etched into his face make you laugh softly as you shake your head. “Even though I can’t give you something as great in return, I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”

“What do you mean? I liked your gift.”

“Shouto, it was a two paid in full all you can eat meals at that soba joint you love, of course, you were going to like it!” You tease as you think back to the hole in the wall you had introduced Shouto to a few months ago.

“Yes, I have to starve for a week to make the most of your gift,” he teases and you snort as you shove him. Your eyes roll as you focus your attention back onto him.

Wait, what was that?

Your eyes flew back up to the ceiling as you saw the powdered with snow mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. Your jaw dropped as your heart rate spiked. The hands that were in Shouto’s felt sweaty as you ripped your hands from his.

“What’s wrong?” Shouto asks as he follows your gaze up to the ceiling.

“Mistletoe,” you breathe as your eyes widen. This screamed like a setup to you, but how could the girls know the two of you would have made your way out here?!

“Oh.” Shouto’s voice nearly squeaked.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Shouto whispers, his cheeks glowing in embarrassment or from the cold, you had no idea at this point. “If you’re okay with it, um... I’ve never done this before.”

You lick your lips in anticipation and the feeling that Shouto wants to kiss you back. Your heart hammers in your ears as you smile. “It’s okay, I have,” you laugh gently.

“... you have?”

“Yeah!”

“O-oh…”

“It’s okay, it’s something I try not to remember,” you input as you shake your hands. His disappointed, flustered, and jealous aura screaming at you as you cup his cheeks. “You’re the one I wanted to meet under the mistletoe anyways.”

His hands slip through your jacket, holding your waist in his grasp as he lets out a shaky breath. Shouto’s eyes rise to lock on yours finally, and you nod at him.

“Wait you want to do this outside?” Shouto whispers as you near him.

“You’re supposed to do it under the mistletoe,” you mumble as your lips connect with his. Your lips end all arguments that he has as Shouto stills.

The kiss was slow, your eyes closed as you gently coaxed his stiff lips to move with yours. Shouto moved with you smoothly, the kiss gently growing in passion as he pulled you in closer. The kiss burns you as your lips languidly move against each other. Your hands moving from his cheeks to tangling into his gelled hair.

It was perfect, and you found yourself pulling away, ready to confess your feelings for him. But Shouto didn’t seem to be on the same page as his lips pressed against your throat. The feeling of his heated and soft lips against your colder skin made you suck in a sharp breath of air. Your head tilting backward as he peppered clumsy yet attentive kisses against your skin.

“S-Shouto,” you moaned as your fingers grabbed onto the collar of his jacket. This wasn’t what you were expecting from him. Nor was it something you believed to come from a visit under the mistletoe. Your peaked breaths soon calmed, they smoothed into soft and shaky moans as his teeth teased your sensitive skin.

Shudders flew through your body as his tongue caressed your skin. your mind was sinking into a sinking pit that is until he trailed his tongue to the cleavage of your breasts.

“Shouto!” You squeak as you shove his jaw up, his eyes locking on yours confused and drowning with lust.

“What’s wrong, love?” Shouto asks as a strand of hair falls into his eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Is this how you meet everyone under the mistletoe?” You pant as your mind is racing too many thoughts a second, you can’t keep up as there is a heat building in you. A heat that begged you to get over your shyness and just let him kiss you in such a lewd way. But this wasn’t Shouto, it couldn’t be.

“I’ve never been under a mistletoe before,” Shouto mumbles as his lips press together. In this brief hesitation, it seems that he remembers something. “Who have you… met under the mistletoe…”

Your face warms as you sigh, it wasn’t a memory you much enjoyed.

“It was Bakugou, but only because the damn store owners were so insistent on it!”

This confession made Shouto still. His eyes turning a near black with emotions you hadn’t seen on his face in quite a while.

“Shouto? Are you okay--mmph?!”

His lips were back over yours immediately. His bruised lips fervently danced against yours as he held his right hand to the back of your neck and the other firmly onto the small of your back. His kiss was demanding, sultry, and overwhelming.

Your questions of his emotions out of your mind as your ass hit the porch railing. The cold snow burning through your dress made you cry out, and Shouto’s tongue presses into your mouth. Your back arches as his left-hand leaves your body. It slams against the railing and the snow melts, and the tongue in your mouth warms you as you shudder in his hold.

Not wanting to be manipulated like this, you ignore how your body feels like it’s melting in his hold. Your mouth suckles onto his tongue. Your hands fist into his hair, making him moan into your mouth as you tug on it sharply.

You can feel the falling snow hitting your cheeks, but your body temperature has spiked so high that it melts before it can make complete contact.

Ripping your mouth from his, your lips trail down his neck, nipping and sucking hickies onto his pale skin. The harsh pants that escaped his mouth and the shaking of his form further incited you as your painted lips met the collar of his shirt.

“Should we go back to my place?” You ask as you pull away, your hands fisting around his tie as you look into his lust-fueled eyes.

“I thought you said we had to do it under the mistletoe?” Shouto questions, his upper lip in almost a sneer as he uses your hands to loosen his tie. Your eyes widened as he stripped off his jacket. He placed it onto the railing that was turning the snow into steam whenever it made contact. “Did you take Bakugou home after finding yourself under the mistletoe with him?”

The words were a near snarl, his eyes angry, his face jealous.

Some part of you wanted to utilize this. You wanted to use this surplus of emotion Shouto was emitting to get him to fuck you against this railing. Another part of you, a louder part of you, demanded to know what was wrong.

“Why would I bring Bakugou home?” You ask as you take Shouto’s flushed cheeks in your hands. “It’s mistletoe, not a porno.”

Shouto blinks once, twice, thrice.

“W-What?”

“Mistletoe, not porno,” you repeat confused. “Shouto, you’re supposed to kiss under the mistletoe.”

It’s then that Shouto’s body freezes. His eyes widening as he stares at you.

His face flushed, lips were swollen from kissing, and hair messy.

“You’re… you’re not supposed to fuck?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he shakes his head.

The small sentence causes your heart to beat wildly as you stare at him, your hands moving from his cheeks to your mouth. “NO!” You squeak as Shouto takes a step back from you, his head dropping.

Coldness envelopes you as Shouto nods his head, “I’m sorry for forcing myself on you, y/n. I… I should go.”

You watch as Shouto turns on his heel, his back stiff as he walks towards the door.

Everything in you screams at you to make him stop, pleading that you pull him back and say you’ll still fuck him. The kissing itself had ignited a fire within you. And there was nothing else you wanted but Shouto to subside the need and desire that had built within you.

“I like you,” you reel as you find yourself taking several steps forward as Shouto’s hand touches the door handle. “I have feelings for you, and when I found out that I could kiss you tonight I took the chance! I know you might be feeling a whole bunch of different emotions that I can’t list. But I want to let you know that I wasn’t letting you do that because of the mistletoe, Shouto! I genuinely really like you and I was going to let you fuck me against the porch railing I was that ready.”

Shouto is frozen at the door, his back tense as his hand drops. You watch in what feels like slow motion as he turns around, his eyes locking on yours. It clicks, his confession is silent as he walks back towards you.

The world has gone silent as Shouto cuts the distance between the two of you before you could react. His mouth pressing against yours as you’re sent walking backward. Your hands grasping his biceps as you’re pressed against a familiar railing.

“I like you,” Shouto gasps against your lips. “Fuck, y/n, I like you so much.”

You don’t answer him as you instead sink your teeth into his lower lip, a groan leaving his mouth as you pull away. His eyes flash dangerously, something new stirring within him as your lips come crashing together again. In a tangle of lips and tongue, his hands leave your waist and grab your ass through the fabric of the dress. The cold is ignorable and the jacket around you is making you sweat as you moan into the kiss.

The melodious sound escaping your mouth stirs Shouto on and his leg slips between your thighs as you arch into him. His leg presses indescribably into your crotch, so you do what you must and grind your hips against his leg.

The grip on your ass tightens as Shouto begins to guide your hips into wide circles against his leg. The grinding pleasures you. The slowly building pressure overwhelming you as you whine against his mouth. His name escapes your mouth like a prayer, soft and hopeful as your mouth suckles against his tongue.

“It’s too hot,” you whimper as you pull away, Shouto trying to follow you with his mouth as you tilt your head. His wandering lips press against your neck and you sigh as you shift to take off the jacket.

“You’re going to get sick,” Shouto warns. His hands leave your rotating ass as he tries to slip the coat back over your shoulders.

Taking his hands and instead press them onto your breasts. As his eyes shifted to your breasts, you dropped your coat to the floor and you stare at him with a growing smirk. “Then you better fuck the cold away.”

His eyes take you in and he slowly nods, his hands groping your breasts as he growls in response, “Don’t think I won’t.”

“Big words for a virgin,” you moan as warmth spreads throughout your body.

“Those are fighting words for someone who’s at my mercy,” Shouto snaps as he pinches your side.

A pained moan escapes your lips as Shouto’s teeth sink back onto your neck. His tongue then lashing out to smooth the wound that was left in its place. He continues to mark your neck as your gasping praises and grinding hips gives him the confidence to continue. His touch is intoxicating and you find yourself whining for more, begging that he do more. Finally, with a deep chuckle, Shouto pulls away from your neck, his lips red and raw.

His eyes trace your body as his hand’s trail from your breasts back onto your ass. Your eyes widen as he picks you up as if you weigh nothing, his hands massaging your flesh as he places you onto the rail. A low sigh escapes your lips at the feeling of the warm wood underneath you.

Your chest heaves with your quickening breathing as you see that this position gives Shouto the perfect entrance to fuck you out here.

There wasn’t much you could do outside. With snow blanketing the world, your friends indoor, and both you and Shouto craving the other there was only so much you could do. Fully expecting Shouto to start unbuckling his pants, your eyes shot open as he lifted the skirt of your dress. His heated fingers trailing up your cool flesh.

Trembling you watched as his fingers reached your panties. His finger stroking your folds as your hands held tightly onto his shoulder. Your pussy aches for more. Your panties soaked from the thigh riding and the being so overwhelmed with emotions for Shouto.

You can do nothing as you feel your panties being peeled from your skin. The soft fabric trailing down your legs and you watch as Shouto looks at them before pocketing them. A smirk overcomes his facial features as you watch him. He takes your wrists in his right hand and moves them behind your back. Your eyes widen as a familiar sound hits your ears.

“I might be a virgin, but I’m not a prude,” he whispers into your ear as cold ice encloses your wrists. “You have only a few minutes to get yourself to cum against my fingers, or else… well, I don’t want to find out.”

Unintentionally, you whimper in both pleasure and pain as the coldness seeps through your skin and your pussy throbs at the threat. Should you heed his command or make him recant. As you contemplate that, you rub your legs together. The slickness of your essence much more noticeable without the fabric in place, and you moan.

Shouto smirks as he looks at your moving legs, and he takes his left hand to trace your inner thigh, teasingly, barely touching your skin. Your eyes flutter as they brush against your slit right before he plunges two fingers into your wet heat. Cursing his name, your walls tremble against him as you press your forehead onto his shoulder. His fingers are warm, but your heat is even warmer.

“Is something wrong?” He feigns innocence as his fingers curl against your wall. They circle within your cunt as you whimper lewdly.

“N-No!” You stammer. The freezing sensation of the ice is almost ignorable with his fingers beginning to push within you. He nods as he begins to move his fingers slowly. Your body squirms in his hold as he increases his speed. Soon his fingers pump within you at unimaginable speeds, your head throwing backward at the pleasure. Your hips find themselves bucking against his fingers as you mewl.

The ice begins to burn as his thumb brushes against your clit.

Your eyes clench close as you surge forward. Your lips pressing against his as you attempt to stop your loud moans. Shouto swallows your moans as he continues to pound his fingers in you. A third one soon entering as his thumb flicks against your clit.

So close, you’re so fucking close.

You can feel the pressure building in you, the coil tightening as you cry out his name, pleading for him to make you cum. Shouto muses at your desperation but does not relieve you of your desires as his fingers leave your cunt. You cry at the expulsion, your pussy craving for him to reenter your needy cunt.

Instead, your wrists are set free from their icy cage. Your skin feels like its burning as Shouto places his fingers into his mouth. He's licking your essence off his skin and you whine at the visual.

“I decided that I want you to come around my cock instead,” Shouto chuckles as you glare at him.

“You’re a dick,” you whine as you watch as Shouto loosens his tie after removing his jacket.

“You’re the greedy one who wanted to fuck right here,” Shouto hums as he unbuckles his belt. You stare at him feeling your pussy throb at the impending sex.

Your eyes fall onto his cock as his pants bunch at his knees, and your mouth dries at the sight of him. Eight inches and thick, his hand fists against his length, low grunts escaping his mouth as he steps near to you.

“Are you okay with this?” Shouto asks as the head of his cock brushes against your wet folds.

You nod your head as you shudder at the sensations that run through your veins, “Yes, are you?”

He nods too as he grunts softly. He begins to grind his cock against your folds. The increased pressure than what he was doing before makes you moan as he coats himself with your juices. Your hands hold onto his biceps as he continues to move his cock between your folds. teasing your clit instead of penetrating you and you whine in protest. The stimulation of your clit appreciated but you wanted him to fill you up.

“Will you just fuck me already?!” You rasp as you pathetically circle your hips against his length.

Shouto chuckles as he locks eyes with you, “Maybe.”

Your mouth opens to argue, but you’re cut off by him pushing himself into your needy pussy without warning. His length barely fits entirely within you, and his girth causes your head to spin as he stretches you out. “FUCK!” You hiss as your head presses into his collarbone.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Shouto shudders as your walls spasm against him, overloading him with sensations as he tries to calm himself. “Y-You’re so fucking tight.”

“Move, Shouto,” you beg eagerly needing more friction from him. “Please fucking move.”

With a grunt of confirmation, Shouto rolls his hips. You curse as his hips move outward before bottoming back into you. Your hips move in time with his, and intermingled moans resonate within your now joined mouths. His thrusting picks up speed the more comfortable he gets. His moving hips slamming against yours as you cry into his mouth. His hand grips your waist as he pulls you from the railing, one of your legs hooked around his waist as the other shakily stands. He slides his other hand down your back so that he can cup the bottom your ass. It’s a stretch and it adds to his vigorous thrusts into your cunt.

The feel of Shouto’s pelvis slapping against yours is your remedy — you’re craving him even more and he is well aware of that fact.

You’re swelling with euphoria and lust when he decides to amp up your pleasure by bringing his right hand to your clit. His fingers circle against your clit with his ice-cold touch, it shocks you as your heated body jerks under the new temperature. With the added temperature play, it feels as if your body is breaking under his will. Your pussy clenching at sensations he’s giving you. Your hips rolling against his pounding hips, and he moans in return to how your walls clench against him.

Your head lolls to the side as you’re overwhelmed by the blazing heat in your core. The pressure of your cunt heavily evident throughout your entire body. You needed to keep it together, you wanted to keep going. The head of his cock finally comes to press against your sweet spot as he shifts your hips and you shriek.

“Fuck! Please, right there!” You beg as Shouto shakily nods, his hips coming to snap into that same spot over and over. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you’re no longer able to speak. You’re completely overpowered by his snapping hips.

“Will you come for me,” he groans out, his voice a pleading hope.

Your head nods frantically as you're unable to trust your voice. The action satisfies Shouto as he hisses lowly. Faster and harder, his fingers switch from pressing small circles to large figure-eights on your clit, while his hips slamming faster into you. You can’t handle the pleasure any more, and you feel your high coming.

“Shouto,” you gasp as he presses a kiss against your mouth again. His hands moving to lift you up, you can only cry in pleasure as he slams your back against a pole. His hips continuing to snap into you at insane speeds. You’re not able to keep up as sparks ignite in your veins as he slams into you over and over.

Your orgasm hits your body and it’s as if you’re falling away into ecstasy. Your mind spinning and dazed from the continuous world-altering sensations. You cry out his name as he still continues at his unmerciful pace. That is until he suddenly pulls out and drops you onto your shaking legs.

Whining at the loss of his cock, and the fact that you’re now on your feet, you open your shut eyes and stare at him unable to speak.

“Turn around,” he growls. You can’t believe he wants you to go for his own orgasm with you in a whole new position. Was he really a virgin you question as he fists his cock as you reposition yourself onto the railing. Your chest presses weirdly onto the wood as your knees buckle, and you look over your shoulder to see Shouto raising the skirt of your dress.

Shouto doesn’t ask to insert himself in you again. Your fingers grip the railing as he slams back in and you let out a sharp cry as you seize forward.

He starts up a brutal pace with his hips slapping against your ass with each and every thrust. Your hands move to your mouth as you cry as you rock forward with every thrust. His hips remain steady as his pace accelerates. You watch on a dazed high as snow falls onto your moving hair. Your fingers shoved into your mouth like a gag as he grips your hips. You use all of your willpower to push your hips back against his to meet him thrust by thrust.

Slowly, he starts to vocalize more and more. His lips moaning your name and crying out. He keeps one gripping hand on your hips while the other slips to your clit. Your mind snaps as he begins rubbing meticulous shapes onto your puffy nerves.

You can tell he’s close.

He’s chanting your name against your spine like some mindless prayer to you. His hot breath fanning onto your exposed skin. The hand on your hip grips you tighter, definitely bruising your skin. So you grip the railing with one hand and the other remains in your mouth.

“Are you ready?” Shouto growls while nipping at your skin. “Ready to take my cum?”

“Yes! Please, Shouto!” You choke out from your fingers, the pleasure and overstimulation reaching their tipping point once again.

“Then fucking come.”

Your toes curl as you let out a sob of pleasure. Your arm is unable to support yourself anymore as you let your torso slam against the railing. The circles on your clit finally stop and your abused cunt clenches around Shouto’s cock. Your body reaches its second orgasm of the night, and Shouto arrives with you.

He cries out a “Fuck!” and your name as his speed spills within you. It’s the loudest he’s been all night, which makes you whine at the sound of your name being said so vulgarly from his mouth. As your cries become breathless pants, you press your hands against the railings. The saliva on your fingers turning cold as the two of you stand still for what feels like some time. You feel him slide both of his hands on top of yours to intertwine with yours as cum spurts out of his cock, filling you up.

He rubs circles on top of your hands with his thumbs as he slides himself out. The feeling of him gone makes the both of you whimper at the loss of each other’s fill. You feel some of his cum seep out, and you shudder at the emptiness your cunt now feels.

You slowly stretch back up, your body hurting and now quickly turning cold with the lack of his heat.

Shouto is two steps ahead of you as he grabs your tossed coat from the floor and wraps you tightly within its fabric. “There,” he smiles as he pulls up his own pants, his face still flushed for different reasons.

You giggle as you shake your head, “Did I really get dicked down because of mistletoe?”

A snort escapes Shouto’s lips as he nods, “You did.”

“Well, I do like you, Shouto,” you whisper as he finishes dressing. “It’s not just because of the mistletoe.”

“I know,” Shouto whispers as he takes your cheeks in his hands. “And now this is me asking you on a date and if you’d like to be my girlfriend.”

Joy fills your heart as you laugh softly. “I’d love to be,” you say as your lips meet his in a gentle kiss right under the mistletoe.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

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[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Fighting with Aliens”

So I wrote this to address a very interesting difference between humans and aliens because I realized it could potentially cause serious conflict if an outsider would to look on. Has fight scenes in it obviously, and blood, so there is that. I can foresee some of you not liking the outcome, so if you are easily bothered, probably don’t read this one. 

Where was that man! She swore, every morning he was somewhere different. Like what kind of person has a schedule THAT erratic. She wondered how he even survived as a person without structure in his life. But then again, that’s what she was here for, to bring structure, and he very much desperately needed it.

She was determined that by the time she was done, he would have a schedule predictable to the minute.

That was, of course, if she could find him.

She swore that one of these days she was going to have to lojack that man, fit him with some kind of tracking system in his sleep so she could find him every morning.

Unfortunately, right now she was on her own, and was forced to start from the top down starting with the bridge then moving down to the administrative deck. 

She rather hoped he might already be in his office, but when she found nothing she definitely kicked herself for being that stupid. Admiral Vir was NEVER in his office. In fact, he was notorious for avoiding it whenever he could.

Then again, Admiral Vir was notorious for a lot of things, and that was included but not limited to avoiding his office, wearing heelies on the job, making horrible dad jokes, blasting music on the bridge, and eating all the popsicles.

Simon herself was notorious for almost the exact opposite, her perfectly pressed uniform, her ability to be one time down to the minute, her tendency to get stressed when things didn’t go to plan, and her surprisingly frequent inability to understand the Admiral’s jokes.

It made her feel sort of bad considering that Even the little alien doctor Krill seemed to get it, and if there was anyone on the ship that she could understand, it was him. He had a schedule like a rock solid wall of dependability, a mind like a steel trap, and a sense of humor so dry and clever it ALSO went over her head.

She turned the corner brooding her face pulled down into a frown nearly running into a figure rushing in the opposite direction. She had to leap out of the way in surprise as Dr. katie, the dark haired bespectacled attending physician, yelped in shock.

“Dr Katie!”

Dr. katie put a hand over her chest, “Simon, you scared me half to death.”

Simon rubbed the back of her head a bit, “Sorry, um, do you have an idea where the Admiral is?”

“Oh Adam, yes I know where he is. I was actually headed down there right now if you want to join.”

Simon nodded and fell into step beside the tall doctor.

“I can never find him in the morning.”

“Yeah, no that does sound like Adam. If it helps, just head down to krill’s office one of these days, and we should be able to give you administrative access to his tracking system.”

“Wait, you-”

“Yeah sort of a precaution after he kept getting kidnapped so much, plus he has a habit of hiding when he gets stressed, which isn’t so much a problem these days, but in the past it was a real bitch to find him.”

Simon shook her head in near amazement as she followed Dr. Katie down a set of stairs and onto the crew deck.

They walked for a few meters when the sound of metal ringing on metal reached her ears.

She trailed after Dr. katie as they came around the corner into the massive Rec room at the center of the crew deck. She didn’t come here much and so would never have thought to look. She was rather awkward around people and didn’t know how to talk to them in a normal manner outside work related topics.

She had always been horrible talking to people, getting to know them, or bonding with them in general.

Humans weren’t exactly easy to understand.

So she tended to spend most of her time locked away in her office or in her room, or sitting on the bridge where she could work, where things were procedural, and memorizing notes and lists was a strength. When it came to work there were always protocols, measures to get things done, and a strict adherence to he rules. When it came to people,  there was no telling what they were going to do: the Admiral being the prime example.

Generally Admiral Vir was not the kind of person she would like to spend time with. He was extroverted, outgoing, erratic, and high energy, but he was a very empathetic man, and he made up for most of the other things with patience and kindness towards her even when she didn’t allow it for herself.

In return, she had put all her effort into trying to understand him. She had observed, and watched and made lists and taken notes. She knew what he liked and what he didn’t like. She knew what people on the crew were his closest friends, she knew his favorite places to spend time.

She had a detailed profile written up about him in her personal log -- which never occurred to her could be misconstrued as being super super creepy.

Those were the reasons why she knew he was a science fiction nerd, he had a collection of old movies from the information age, he liked a mix of alternative, hard rock, heavy metal, and punk, when he ate his food he insisted on eating the items in order from least favorite to most favorite, he benched 270, and he talked with his family every friday night at six.

Of course that wasn’t exactly a comprehensive list, but just things she knew off the top of her head to better understand the man that she was working for She hoped that the more that she knew one day she would be able to understand him and work well with him without forcing him to hold her hand when it came to running his daily routine.

However, when she stepped into the rec room, she received a shock that she had not expected or really appreciated.

She wasn’t a big fan of surprises.

Yet this was, indeed, a surprise.

The rec room was large and circular inhabiting the very center of the fourth deck. The outer ring contained chairs and tables and TVs and pool tables, all of the sort of recreational things that normal people liked to do in their downtime, but in the center of that there was another large ring, bounded by walls on all sides and with benches looking inward.

Simon hadn’t been sure what that was for when she was first brought aboard the ship, though now she was getting a first hand demonstration as to its use.

Admiral Vir stood in the circle, lightly dressed and wearing hard leather padding on his head, shoulders, chest, arms, and upper legs. In one hand he was holding a metal staff just a little taller than he was.

His knees were bent in a low crouch, and the staff was held at a low forward angle.

On the other side of the ring stood one of the Drev clan members.

Flipping through her mental notes Simon remembered her name as Sunny or Chalan in her native language. She was the Chief weapons officer aboard the ship, was a mechanic, and rather short of a Drev. her and the Admiral tended to spend a lot of time together, and so she assumed that they were close friends.

However the part of this that surprised her tended towards the fact that, she didn’t know that Admiral Vir knew how to use a quarterstaff.

She froze in her place just as one of the watching drev -- a large red one named Cannon pronounced Kanan in his native tongue, slammed a metal spear against the ground to mark the beginning of the round..

Simon yeled in shock and surprise as the two charged at each other with roars, of what seemed to be rage -- though she had never been good at divining emotions.

Metal slammed against metal as the two crashed into each other. Sparks shed out to either side as they exchange a flurry of blows. He struck to the right, she parried to the left, she brought the right side of her spear up to try and catch him off guard, he spun away ducking under and jabbing forward. She blocked the jab to glance off to her right, and kicked out at him with one of her feet.

He dodged to the side and aimed a sheering blow at her head, which she caught last second on the shaft of her spear.

The fury of their fight left Simon reeling in shock and surprise. They didn’t pull their punches, they didn’t aim for the body only. This was full force, full speed, real weapons no holds barred combat!

In the stands Drev cheered them on with great enthusiasm. The humans that were watching had mixed feelings. Ramirez and Maverick were standing with the Drev screaming at Adam to get his head in the game and not be a wuss. Other humans were grimacing and wincing.

Dr. Krill st to the side looking exasperated at the same time he appeared at least sort of worried.

The Celzex onlookers were cheering with the frenzy of the Drev, yelling insults and encouragement to their favorite contender. A few of them were sitting on the shoulders of other enthusiastic, or, in some cases, concerned humans. THe FInnari huddled together around one specific human who looked to be having the time of her life comforting the tiny creatures.

And the Tesraki were nowhere to be seen, probably hiding or run away somewhere to count money.

Adam ducked under a cything blow that would have sent him straight to the emergency room and cut upward quickly, catching Sunny hard on the lower arm. She backed away showing no sign other that the blow had managed to phase her.

From there the fighting only grew more intense. From across the room Simon could hear the swish of the metal as it cythed through the air.

The clattering of steel hitting steel was practically deafening. SHe had no idea how the two of them were still fighting without their hands hurting.

And then Sunny feinted to her left passing into his blind spot where the epatch was.

He turned to face her, but she had already been moving.

A loud THWACK rent the air.

Admiral Vir’s feet left the ground as he was pitched back violently a good three feet before slamming into the ground. The metal rod was jostled from his hands and went clattering across the ring.

The cr4owd had taken to their feet as a chorus of sympathetic noises rose from both sides.

Simon stood in shock for a half moment as Admiral Vir groaned and crawled to his hands and knees.

Sunny approached quarterstaff raised.

Simon raced forward and jumped into the ring, hands held up, “STOP!”

Sunny pulled to a halt looking confused.

The crowd booed.

“What are you doing!” her voice went up a few octaves, not sure what was going on. Why was no one trying to stop this. Admiral Vir sat back on his heels, wiping blood from his mouth and chin, which was dripping down from his nose, “Simon.”

The Drev above her were frowning, “Get out of the ring lieutenant.”

“No, what-”

“You're interrupting a duel, get out of the ring.”

Simon turned in a confused circle, “But-”

Admiral vir stood, holding his nose waving a hand at the Drev, “Timeout guys, she’s not familiar with Drev war practices, so give her a break.”

The Drev backed down a little but still looked a little miffed as Admiral grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the circle, “May I talk to you for a few minutes.” He marched her out of the circle, a hand on her arm, face still bleeding. Katie offered him a gauze pad, which he held to his face as he walked her oer to a table and sat her down.

“Simon, I  may have failed to mention this rule to you, but it is highly improper to intervene in a drev dueling match.”

Simon shook her head still reeling with confusion and horror, “But, Admiral, she hit you! Under section two subsection b of the UNSC manual it describes an act of violence on a UNSC ship as domestic battery.”

He coked an eyebrow, “You think Sunny just committed domestic assault, like punching your wife or husband or something.”

“Well yeah! Since we live on a ship, the UNSC classifies any aggressive action as domestic in nature.”

He sighed, “Simon, I am the leader of a Drev clan, I was adopted by two, which means I am a Drev and I must abide by their customs and rules.” He went to place a hand on her arm, but drew back after a moment knowing that she didn’t like to be touched, “Look, Simon, I know this is hard to understand, but the Drev aren't like us. To be Drev, to be friends with them, to be in a relationship with one if that were the case, means letting go of some preconceived human notions.”

“But hitting each other is not ok! She insisted 

Admiral Vir shook his head in a long suffering sort of way, “Simon, you're looking at this through the scope of being human. If it were a human that hit me, by all means lock them in the brig. Because when humans are aggressive it is attached to anger, or frustration or aggression. But when Drev fight it isn’t attached to emotion, in fact their mating practices require them to duel each other. Drev relationships seen by humans are often violent and aggressive, but it's part of who and what they are. To them something like this is a sign of trust and friendship. You cannot judge them based on human standards any more than they can judge us based on our human ones.”

“But I-”

“Simon, I agreed to this. I walked in here this morning and I said, hey sunny want to beat the tar out of me. To them an offer like that is a good thing, its….. Well it means much more than what it means for humans. Besides, once upon a time I lived in  a Drev village for a few months and was beaten up by pretty much everyone  I Came in contact with. From their language and their culture, I have since gained a much different understanding of fighting. I have a different relationship with it now.”

Simon shook her head, this was difficult to compute. People hitting each other was bad, that was a rule, that was something that was black and white to her. She didn’t understand how this man could consider it a good thing, or even as a sign of friendship. It didn’t make sense in the framework of everything she understood.

He sighed, “Look, how about this, you trust me to know what is right and wrong when it comes to the Drev. Working with them I expect things to be aggressive, I expect them to be violent. Assume that everything they do is a low level of aggressive. A lot of people would look at my friendship with Sunny and think that something is wrong with it based on how it looks from a human perspective, but both of us have made compromises, and it is actually a very healthy thing we have going. Honestly if she pulled her punches and didn’t hit me in the dueling ring I would be offended.

Simon still wasn’t sure about this.

He tapped his fingers on the table, “Ok, this might help, the Drev society is based on a very specific set of rules. You should go talk to Cannon about it. Sunny isn’t going to hit me outside of a duel. To strike someone in anger is considered to be bad as well. As far as outside the ring, Drev are expected to be bossy, pushy, stubborn, and mildly aggressive, so Anything they do that falls within a scale of mild is alright.

He stood, “Now if you'll excuse me. I have a Drev’s Ass to kick.”

Dr. Katie took the gauze from his hand as he clamberted back into the ring, blood still staining his mouth and chin.

Simon watched nervously as sunny spun her staff around.

“Done taking your little break.”

He cracked his neck, “Done taking my break, and to make it even, I’ll start from the ground.”

She snorted and Cannon slammed his spear into the ground once again.

Admiral Vir rolled to the side, picking up his spear on the way as Sunny charged after.

She cut down towards his face, and he caught it on the flat of his spear kicking upwards and catching her in the knee. 

She scrambled back.

He lept to his feet.

The fight went on like this.

Sunny got caught in the face once a shallow cut bleeding orange down her cheek, but instead of growing angry her eyes seemed to brighten with excitement. Admiral Vir took hits on the shoulder and the leg. Sunny got hit in the stomach and chest.

The fight continued, Admiral Vir was thrown to the ground. The Celzex were screaming in delight.

Sunny charged, but the admiral rolled forward thrusting the spear to roll along the ground before him.

Sunny was to late, her foot landed right on the shaft of the spear, and the spear rolled. Her leg slipped out from underneath her and she went crashing to the ground.

Admiral Vir leaped forward spinning the spear behind his back.

The room went quiet.

Admiral Vir Sat stradling Sunny’s chest one end of the quarterstaff to her throat.

He leaned in a little, “Better luck next time.”

The crowd Cheered.

Sunny raised her hands, “Good fight for a puny runt.”

“I could say the same about you he teased, rolling off to the side.”

Simon wasn’t really sure what to make of any of this. She still hadn’t managed to reconcile the fact that hitting wasn’t necessarily a bad thing because when Admiral Vir came out of the circle he was limping and still wiping blood from his face. If she had seen that on the street down on earth she would be very worried about him. She would call the cops.

But he was also smiling walking with Sunny as she limped right along with him. 

The way they looked at each other was…. strange .

She couldn’t place it.

She would need to rework her profile of him just a little. And she would have to rework her profile of the Drev. it seemed as if she was going to have to learn a whole new set of social rules for the different alien species.

She sighed in frustration.

She hadn’t even figured humans out yet and now she was expected to do more.

This was going to be a very long deployment. 

[bre-meister]

Spiders

Thank you @over-under-through1 for the prompts!

Butch’s class had run late and for an already unusually late class to run late meant that by the time he turned his car onto his street it was already late enough that most houses were dark. An errant light could be seen behind closed curtains here and there - some even turning off as Butch drove by as if reading his mind that it was just utterly too late to be lurking about in or outside the house.

Pulling into the driveway of the small two-bedroom house he shared with his girlfriend, Butch contemplated whether he should risk opening the garage and pulling in or just leave the car outside tonight. He knew that Buttercup tended to complain that on late nights like these the sound of the garage door rattling as it opened was enough to wake a normal person let alone someone with super hearing. He could see lights flashing intermittently through the front window and assumed that Buttercup had been watching t.v on the couch trying to wait up for him. She might not be asleep but it was more likely than not - it wouldn’t be the first time she’d fallen asleep in front of the television. Butch was tired and already annoyed at being forced to be out so late because his professor’s tangents went on tangents. He wasn’t quite sure he had the patience to deal with a sleepy, pissed off Buttercup Utonium at the moment, so he turned the car off.

 Stepping out and closing the heavy door as quietly as he could, he made his way to the front door. He tried to keep his keys from clanging around too much while still trying to unlock the door. Butch expected the house to be quiet. Maybe he’d pick up on BC’s soft snores - she insisted she didn’t snore but Butch found it endearing if not a little cute - or the sounds of some random show playing from what he’d thought was the t.v. What he was not expecting, not in the slightest, were the multiple holes and char marks on the wall. 

A loud commotion in the living room caught his attention and he went into defense mode, floating above the floor to avoid making any sound. If there was an intruder - although anyone would be stupid to try to break into a Ruff or a Puff’s house - he didn’t want to alert them anymore to his presence than he already had when he opened and closed the door.

Turning the corner from the entry hallway into the main room he was shocked to see Buttercup floating above the couch, lasers firing from her eyes every few seconds.

Well, he thought, that explains the lights through the window.

“Buttercup,” he whispered. When she didn’t acknowledge his presence he repeated her name a bit louder, “Buttercup!” A bit louder turned into yelling to be heard over her war cries.

She paused and looked at him quickly before turning back to whatever she had been doing before. Without his powers aiding him in tracking her motions, he probably wouldn’t have realized she’d even acknowledged him at all. He might have been tracking her motions, but it seemed that she was tracking the movement of something else.

A quick scan of the room told him that there was no one else there but her and him.

“Buttercup,” he sounded exasperated, annoyed, confused, but also curious at the same time, “what the fuck are you doing?”

“Well,” she started to explain but her eyes were still looking around rapidly, “ I was in the kitchen because I had cooked and I wanted to leave you some food out for when you got back and I was cleaning up and then I came out here to sit on the couch and wait up but then I saw a spider and I almost had it until you distracted me and now I don’t know where it is!” her rambling had turned frantic by the end.

It Butch’s brain, tired as it was, a moment to catch up to what she had said.

“I - a spider?” Butch was dumbfounded. He knew that his girlfriend had a fear of the eight legged creatures but he never thought it would express itself in the physical act of putting holes in the wall.

“Yes a - “ something moved out of the corner of his eye and Buttercup squealed - a most dignified squeal that definitely did not sound like Bubbles thank you very much - “SPIDER, YOU GET THAT SIDE OF THE ROOM IT CAN'T RUN FROM BOTH OF US!”

Somehow, the spider was managing to evade her erratic eye beams so Buttercup changed her tactic. Another beam shot out turning those beautiful jade eyes a menacing red. Unlike its predecessors, this was not a quick, contained blast but one continuous beam. The lasers followed the spider who was, somehow, still managing to outrun the blast. Butch realized that Buttercup was either going to fry the spider or burn the house down trying. Butch rather liked their little start-up and would rather keep the damage to a minimum so he decided to step in.

“Buttercup stop! Calm down!”

The beam continued - she wasn’t listening. Thinking quickly Butch flew up behind her and covered her eyes with his hands, effectively blocking the beams. His palms burned from the intensity of the lasers. His hands being so close to the source didn’t help either. Briefly, Butch considered that he hadn’t completely thought this plan through. In the end though, it was better his X enhanced skin took the brunt of the attack rather than the already scorched walls. They wouldn’t have held up much longer from the looks of it.

“What the fuck, it’ll get away!”

“No, it won’t. It’s just sitting on the wall or, well, what’s left of it.” The last half of the sentence was mumbled but with their superpowers he was more than certain she had heard him.

“Just let me handle it ok? I’d rather not have to sleep in the cold because you burned our house down trying to get rid of a spider.”

“Whatever, just make sure it’s gone! And I mean gone. None of that, taking git outside shit just so it can come back later!I don’t want to see another spider in here ever again!”

If Butch were less mature like he’d been in his youth, he would have laughed at her for the way her tone wobbled. She was clearly shaken up by the idea of the things she feared - and that list was very small - invading her home, her safe space. But this Butch, the one who had grown and matured recognized that teasing would only cause her to clam up and when it came to Buttercup and fear, her bottling it up never boded well for the future.

So, Butch simply slung his backpack around his shoulder and opened the bag. As he made his way closer to the arachnid he pulled out one of his textbooks. Crouching down, so he was level with the spider, Butch took a moment to address it,

“Sorry little guy. I hate to do this but,” he shrugged, “the missus had spoken.” 

Standing up, Butch swung quickly using the hard textbook to end their little spider problem. He collected a tissue from another pocket in his backpack to wrap up the squashed spider.

Walking into the kitchen he saw Buttercup by the stove. The microwave was going behind her and she fidgeted as Butch leaned around her to deposit the tissue in the trashcan.

“Is it… is it over?” She asked quietly.

Butch couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped as he answered,

“Yes, Sunshine. It’s over.” he moved in closer, hands rising to grab her hips when suddenly she was on the other side of the kitchen. 

“Uh uh. Wash your hands first!”

Butch raised his hands in front of him as he moved towards the sink. He made a show of washing and drying his hands. When he was done, he held them out in front of him, eyebrow raising,

“Good?”

“I suppose,” she hummed.

Butch spread held his arms out further and just as quickly as she’d dogged him earlier, she was in his arms. Her own wrapped around his neck as he placed his on her waist.

“Thank you. I know it’s kind of stupid but -”

“No,” he interrupted softly, “the way you feel, your fears? They’re never stupid. Not to me. I’ll gladly slay a spider for you anyday, butterfly. Especially if it means keeping the house from falling down.”

“I am sorry about that.” Buttercup looked over her shoulder at the decimated wall that used to separate the kitchen from the living room.

“Well, look on the bright side.” She said after a moment.

“And that would be?” Butch was genuinely curious as to what she was about to come up with.

“I mean, it wasn’t a load bearing wall,” she turned back to him and shrugged her shoulders, “ Now we have that open floor plan I’ve been saying I wanted.” Buttercup smiled playfully.

The laugh that escaped Butch’s moth was sudden and loud. If the neighbors hadn’t awoken by all the lasers and shouting they certainly would by the loud laughter at such a late hour.

Butch’s stomach growled reminding him that it was late and he hadn’t eaten since early afternoon. Buttercup’s light laughs joined him at the sound. Butch ignored his hunger. Instead, he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on Buttercup’s lips.

The two separated once the microwave beeped, signaling it was done heating up whatever was inside it.

“Common Mr. Hero. I put your plate in the microwave. Eat so we can go to bed. I’m tired and it’s late.”

Butch preened at the nickname knowing that it was only half a joke. Reluctantly he let her go sso she could get his food out of the microwave. He moved to the fridge to get them drinks before returning to the table where Buttercup now sat, a plate of hot food in front of his usual seat. Butch couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.

They talked as he ate. She told him about her day and he did the same. As she launched into a story about some of the characters, as she called them, that visited her bakery - a small start up but Butch just knew that, with Buttercup’s talent, it would take off - Butch couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t mind the late nights as long as he got to spend them with her.

#PPG #ppg buttercup #ppg greens #ppg butch #ppg fanfic #arachnaphobia #My writing #sorry but in the green's house that spider was not making it out alive #it had to be done

[pebblysand]

[the thoughts on canon-compliance you did not ask for.]

last night between 2 and 3 in the morning (look, i couldn’t sleep, got up to write, then got caught up, okay? don’t judge me for my terrible sleeping patterns please) i had a super interesting discussion with a few people on the hinny discord channel about the definition of canon-compliant-ness. i think this is fascinating because to be honest, before getting into the hp fandom, i didn’t even think this was something one could disagree about. to me there was what was canon, and what wasn’t. a very black-and-white sort of system. i’m finding that it’s not.

through the discussions that i’ve had both on my fics and other people’s fics, it seems that i can narrow down - in the hp fandom - three elements of canon.

i. the events of the books/films

now, as a general disclaimer, you can obviously argue about whether the films are ‘canon.’ you can also argue whether cursed child is canon. there’s a lot of elements which differ between those and lots of opinions about how to look at them. personally, i tend to ignore cursed child. as to the books v. films, i pick and choose what suits my story more. generally, that’ll be the books. but for instance, i’m writing a harry&hermione friendship one shot right now, and there are a lot of movie-isms in that story because that is an aspect that was more explored in the films. however, for the purposes of this post, i’m mainly considering the source material to be the seven books. nothing more or less.

having said that, to me personally, that’s what ‘canon’ is: the events of the story and the characters that gravitate around those events, as described in the source material. things like: tom riddle killing lily and james, or harry, ron and hermione rescuing the philosopher’s stone. anything departing from that is, de facto, an ‘au.’ the whole world of what-if scenarios: what if Harry was sorted into slytherin, what if dudley was a wizard, all of those, to me, are aus.

generally, both as a reader and a writer, those are not scenarios i’m particularly drawn to. my default answer to those what-if scenarios is: ‘well, if harry is sorted into slytherin, there’s no story.’ or at the very least, there’s no story as i know it, and if there’s no story as i know it, then i’d rather read/write original fiction. it’s obviously a very personal preference and there are exceptions to this preference. i loved the changeling [1] for instance, and love the self-aware style of dirgewithoutmusic’s aus [2]. but as a general rule, that is not my preferred genre.

now, aside from the what-if scenarios, there’s also the question of filling in the gaps of the story itself. like, i find it interesting that we only make tsunamis [3] is labelled as ‘canon-compliant’ because i get the feeling that a lot of people would disagree that a fic in which hermione is harry’s first kiss is canon compliant. but, by exploiting the silence sometimes left by the author and turning it to your advantage, are you writing an au? is a negative space canon? is silence canon?

again, as a matter of personal opinion, i would not push my definition of canon-compliance as including blank spaces. to me, as long as it does not contradict the letter of the text, adding in events to the books to suit your story (i’ll address character in point ii) does not make your fic an au. to give another example that was brought up to me regarding my own work, i don’t believe that the events described in chapter nine of castles [4] are au because they exist in a blank space of the books. the fact that harry didn’t notice the 1:1s between ginny and amycus doesn’t mean they didn’t happen, it just means that they’re not in the positive space described by the books.

ii. the characters/characterisation

(as a quick vocab note, please note that below, i’m using the terms ‘ooc’ to mean that the characterisation of a character in a fic is not canon-compliant. they’re synonyms to me.)

now, while the above was pretty straight forward, i believe that this is where i perhaps differ from the masses in my interpretation of what “canon-compliance” means. more i discuss with people, the more i realise that i don’t really think there’s a real ‘canon’ characterisation. or at least not in the big things. like, yeah, it’s canon that harry likes treacle tart, because that’s a fact. but anything that is down to psychology or perspective of the character is, to me, generally up for grabs.

as a human, i believe that there’s things that people do, events that they go through, that condition them to act a certain way. while there is a core to every human being, i personally believe that in life, anyone would basically be capable of doing anything, given the right circumstances. i’ve recently - rightfully - been told my writing is all about the power of choice in our life, the reasons why we make those choices and the people those choices lead us to be. for example, do i think i might murder someone tomorrow? probably not. do i think i might be capable of murdering someone in wartime? perhaps? i don’t know, that’s not the world i live in and my life choices have not lead me to find out the answer to that. however, my point is: to me, good ‘characterisation’ is down to the circumstances and choices outlined in any work of fiction. hence, good characterisation is essentially, to me, equal to good writing.

i often say that good writing could make me believe anything and i mean it. i don’t tend to gravitate towards these fics because these ships are not my personal taste but i genuinely believe that good writing could make me believe in drarry or rarry if it tried. it’s funny because over the course of the discussion yesterday on discord, this was brought up ‘well, no one tags drarry as canon compliant,’ and i’m kind of like, i don’t know whether or not they do because i don’t read it but if they did and none of it contradicted the events as detailed in the books, perhaps it could be? like, that would take really good writing (imo), but good writing has - on occasion - made me believe in dramione a couple of times, so why not? in ‘til the sirens come calling [5], good writing made me 100% believe that harry and hermione would have an affair together. in we only make tsunamis [3], it makes me believe that they had this quiet little relationship building throughout hogwarts that we never knew about.

now, though, i suppose the question isn’t: do i believe it? the question is: is it canon? and, i think that’s where i differ from most people because to me, it is. to take ‘til the sirens come calling [5] as an example, i believe the fic is an au because hermione marries victor krum in the end. that’s going against the hard fact presented by the epilogue, and thus makes it an au. but i don’t believe the concept of a harmony affair is inherently au, because nothing is inherently au, character-wise. it’s about how you write it. how those people get to that place. that’s what makes canon-compliantness, in my opinion.

for example, for that fic, truth be told, we don’t know what those nineteen years include per canon, so they could very much include an h/hr affair. and whilst i don’t believe that the characters as they are in the books would have an affair together, i believe that the characters as they are presented in the fic, with the events and hardships that they go through, definitely would. good writing, to me, is - in part - recognising that characters are moving on a spectrum and that whilst their decisions/actions might not make sense in book-verse, they make sense in fic-verse. good writing is convincingly moving your characters from book-verse to fic-verse, and it not feeling ‘off.’

if it does feel off, that is bad writing to me, and that is also ooc-ness/non-canon compliant. it means that for whatever reason, the writer has not successfully transitioned and explained said transition through the events outlined in the story. with the right prose, you could make me believe draco decided to take on a career as a ballerina dancer after the war, and it would still be ‘canon-compliant’ to me. on the other hand, i have read fics (i won’t name them because that would be shit and also i don’t keep track of my ‘bad’ reads) where harry, ginny, hermione, or ron all act according to book canon and yet, their motivations felt off to me and completely ooc because the writing didn’t successfully lure me in. specifically, there was a lack of character evolution that i found uninteresting. i read mostly post-war stuff because i want to see my characters grow up [6].

as a last, additional note on characters, i also think that the characters in a story only exist within the prism of how we view them. this means that to me, locking my own understanding of a character's personality as 'canon' is particularly difficult because my understanding of a character is unique. i believe there are as many harry-s or ginny-s or hermione-s as there are readers. so i think saying someone's interpretation of a character isn't canon-compliant is odd because i don't actually believe there's any wrong or right answer. as i said, do i believe it likely that draco would become a professional ballerina? no. but if that works within your understanding of his character as described in the books, who am i to say that is or isn't canon compliant? i'll admit, the idea makes me sort of lol though.

iii. tone

lastly, i’ve come to find (in potter particularly) that canon-compliance might include tone. as in: hp is a story that is a) written in a certain style and b) written for children/young adults.

regarding style at a), this is honestly the main reason why it took me 15 years to write potter fic, despite the fact that i’ve been a fan for even longer than that. i genuinely thought you had to write like jkr. and i, well, don’t write like jkr. i love the books, but i don’t even particularly like her style. i like: camus, and sorj chalandon, and sally rooney, and dirgewithoutmusic and copper_dust [7]. i have zero ambition to write like jkr and don’t particularly want to read stuff that is written like her stuff either. it’s a style that imo works for her, but it doesn’t work for me as written by other people. i don’t particularly think you need to stick to her style to be canon-compliant.

which brings me onto my actual point: b) hp is a story written for children. young adults perhaps, for the later books. it sometimes explores dark themes but the writing style, the tone, etc. is lighthearted enough that it appeals to a younger audience. there’s snogging but there’s no sex, there’s violence but the torture is mostly off-screen, etc. issues like sexual assault, substance abuse, etc. aren’t explicitely brought up in the books, although they would one hundred percent fit in a book about a war that wasn’t necessarily aimed at children. the question is whether this setting and tone is part of what we call ‘canon-compliance.’

honestly, i don’t know. i didn’t think so until it was brought up to me that castles might be a dark!au and i was like: maybe? like, if you want it to be? i know what i like to read in fanfic: i love the exploration of serious themes that were not explored in the books, or explored differently due to the fact that they were written for children. one thing i will say and insist on is that i don’t think castles is all dark. i actually make a point of having lighthearted moments in each and every chapter, even just a notch, because i am attached to the fact that life as a concept is a mixture of good and bad, and you could laugh at the funeral of someone you loved, again in the right circumstances. but yeah, to me the post-war world is dark. so if tone is part of canon-compliance, then yeah in that way castles (as well as most of the stuff i read, to be honest), is a dark!au.

as a last side note, i’m not sure what that means for my other, lighter stuff though. like are the wolf’s just a puppy [8] or slipped [9] more canon-compliant than castles? i never thought about it in those terms but perhaps? it really opens up a world of questions in my mind and i don’t really have the answers to them.

conclusion:

so in sum, as a reader, what i mean as ‘canon compliant’ is basically a) the events as described in the source material and b) the characterisation of characters as they are at the start of the fic. if character evolution is sufficiently justified and well-written in the following thousands of words that the fic has, then said characterisation can still be canon-compliant, even if the characters act different than they would have in the source material itself. i’m a fan of good writing and good writing can make me buy into literally anything. it takes me places that i've never been before and convinces me that those places are the ones i should be in.

as a writer, i hope that regardless of 'compliance,' whatever i write at least makes ‘sense’ to people within the universe, even if they don’t consider it canon-compliant, per se. i feel like i can’t really be the judge of that. from the discussions we had last night, i feel like there are as many versions of what is and isn't canon-compliant as there are people.

.

.

---

[1] the changeling by annerb

[2] the boy with a scar series by dirgewithoutmusic

[3] we only make tsunamis by disOrdely

[4] castles by yours truly

[5] ‘til the sirens come calling by vexmybones

[6] as a side note and to take my own stuff as an another example, i totally agree that harry in castles isn’t harry in the books. i don’t think there’s much debate to be had in that assertion. i wrote him like this frankly because every other fic i’d read didn’t. they often had him sort of continue to be perfectly himself after the war, which i felt wasn’t speaking to me on a deeper level. imo, i think the war’s done a lot of scarring and the fic is about him growing into a new version of himself. so, to me, if i get a comment that says ‘i don’t think harry would act this way but i really love your writing’ it’s somewhat flattering but also confusing because i don’t really understand how one can enjoy the writing but not the characterisation. to me, they’re so intrinsically linked. what the comment tells me is: i think you did a very poor job at explaining character evolution and justifying character x’s [harry’s] choices but i still like your writing, somehow? i suppose that’s nice, but it doesn’t particularly compute in my brain. like, if the character feels off, it means the writing feels off and thus, why are you still reading? i appreciate all and every comment that i get but it doesn’t mean they always make sense in my own brain. if i’m honest, these comments often send me into an ocean of self-doubt about how shit my writing must be.

[7] copper_dust’s work and profile.

[8] the wolf’s just a puppy (and the door’s double locked), again by yours truly

[9] slipped (and said something sort of like your name), same.

#writing #fic writing #canon compliant #the meaning of words #pebblysand goes off a tangent #also general disclaimer that these are my thoughts #there's no wrong or right answer #it's just my own thoughts about the meanings of words