#Also I should learn not to post a fic until it's nearly done because I have needed to fix MANY chapters

[elizaxspears]

I've gotten in and out of my writing now and I'm still trying to finish the longest fic I've written to date but I've gotten to the point where I want to start a new fic but have it more canon because I want to write more canon William instead of AU William but I don't want to start anything new until I finish my other fics but they're not canon William and all I want is canon William but I can't write canon William until I finish these fics and I'm in a never ending loop of wanting to write William in his proper enviroment but I CAN'T

[sleepyfan-blog]

Float

Author’s Note: This is the second part of mer-Nadesir’s fic! Previous. Next

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @the-pure-angel 

Warnings: none

Summary: You meet up with The Night Lord you freed a little while ago.

You felt drawn back to the beach, since your encounter with the injured Night Lord. You'd done research on him after your initial encounter, and were quite surprised to read that Night Lords - at least according to the internet - were apparently viewed with deep and terrified suspicion from their allegedly violent and cruel nature. You wondered how accurate those accounts were - or if the people telling them had been taunting the mers in some way.

The Night Lord you'd encountered had been initially wary, but he'd been trapped and injured. He'd been flirty and grateful once you'd helped him get free, so not all of them were the nightmarish terrors of the deep that hysterical internet posts had ranted and raved about. Perhaps it was simply because the posters had approached the Night Lord in question incorrectly? Or maybe they'd been fucking around and found out that taunting the giant fish-man was a really bad idea, and went to whine about it online after managing to survive.

You'd not seen him again after that first encounter for over a month. Then again, from what you'd managed to gather, Night Lords seemed to prefer deeper waters and avoided most costal places unless they were having territorial disputes with different kinds of merfolk. No one could agree on how m any different kinds of merfolk there were, as they came in dozens of colors and patterns and species. You hoped that he was healing up well from the netting-wounds. 

The moon was full and hung high in the sky, and the stars shone beautifully. You'd debated for a while with yourself - as a medical professional, you could easily find work wherever it was you wanted to live, and the urge to stay in one of the small coastal towns along the coast was almost too much for you to handle. The ocean was fairly calm tonight, with the occasional rippling wave that washed up the beach. You quickly found that your feet led you to the water's edge, your sandals quickly getting wet as the warm waters lapped at your feet.

It would be really, really dumb to go swimming out in the ocean at night. You could so easily vanish beneath the waves, never to be seen or heard from again...

But still, as you looked out over the calm ocean waters, the desire to take off your clothes and go swimming out into the sea was nearly overwhelming. With how dark the night was and the brilliance of the stars, you wondered briefly if it would feel like you were swimming among the stars. 

As a child you'd wanted to know what it would be like to see those distant lights. To explore worlds beyond the Sol system. To explore the galaxy, but alas, the age of space exploration was not going to happen in your lifetime. Not for several generations at least.

You hardly notice where you are and what you're doing until a large, clawed hand lightly envelops one of your shoulders, a vaguely familiar voice calling out to you from behind and above you "It's not safe to go swimming at night, little mortal."

You blink and look up into the worried face of the handsome Night Lord you'd helped over a month ago. A small smile appears on your face as delight and relief flood through you. You reach up with one hand to touch his, lightly squeezing it "I... I know. But I really, really wanted to swim, for some reason. How are you? How have you been? Is it rude if I ask you what your name is?" You tell him your name, still beaming happily, genuinely delighted to see him again.

"I am doing well, and I have been teased by several of my older brothers for getting caught in one of the industrial nets, but I have also been learning how to better spot them and avoid them. I am Nadesir. We should head to the shore. Mortals like you do not swim very well, and there is an undertow in these waters that comes and goes unexpectedly." He responds, a small frown appearing on his face as he looks you over in concern.

"I... If you really think that's important. I'd rather stay out here for a little while, at least." You ask, pouting up at him a little, despite the fact that you know for a fact that he's right. You should go back up on the shore. But you really, really don't want to. A subtle itching that intensified and lowered at times that you'd managed to more or less ignore had finally, finally stopped. You were very unwilling to get back out of the water when that maddening itchiness had finally subsided. You were also admiring the way that the light of the moon highlighted his high cheekbones and made the endless inky pools that his eyes had turned into in the night were deep enough for you to happily drown in. 

"I... If you are sure. I will stay close by, in case something happens." Nadesir decides, still watching you with concern. He fidgets a little, pulling out a silvery-white bloom from one of his armor's pockets. "I... I found this a week ago and thought of you. Would... This is yours, if you want it."

An awed smile appeared on your face as you carefully took the flower and tucked it behind one of your ears, not really having a good place to put it, as you realized that you'd taken off your clothes in order to go swimming... Not that you found that you minded being naked in the warm waters. "Thank you, this is beautiful."

"Almost as much as you are..." He murmurs, something akin to reverence in his eyes as he looks down at you, awe and something softer in his eyes. 

"I... What? You... you're quite handsome, too." You respond, a warm blush appearing on your face as you lean into him, humming a little.

"Thank you." Nadesir rumbled, one arm gently wrapping around your waist as the two of you floated together in the ocean waters.

[ikatako38]

Another Update

Do people even read these anymore?

Hi!

TL;DR: read last paragraph (bolded)

First of all… I miss you all so much!!! As I always say, thank you so much to everyone reading this for sticking around. It really means the world to me.

This summer has been extremely rough for me. I don’t need to rehash the details, I’m your curious I believe I gave some in a previous update. The important part is that I’m finally doing better now. For the first time in over a year really, I finally feel like I’m same strange enough to begin focusing on myself a little bit again, rather than just surviving. And part of that is making time to write and engage with fandom!

At the same time, it is also sadly true that, especially with the Grand Festival behind us, the Splatoon fandom is slowly going dormant. Many of the Splatoon creators I know are moving on to different fandoms. Especially for a Splatoon 2 fic, the interest level is understandably small and ever-shrinking. Much of today’s Splatoon fandom never even played the second game or Octo Expansion. And a lot of that is due to my own timing; I’ve been behind since the beginning, and long hiatuses squandered much of the wave of interest coming from Splatoon 3.

That being said, I can try to be proud about the things I did accomplish in that time. A Discord server that’s a bit quieter but still thriving after nearly two years, my longest single project ever at over 500 pages, tons of beautiful fanart that I still look at often because they make me so happy, so many friendships… some short-lived but others genuine and hopefully long-lasting—and above all, so many amazing memories that I hope I can cherish for years and years.

And that’s really important for me to remember. Truth is, and I don’t even think I fully recognized this until now, but I’ve definitely been struggling with a feeling of failure surrounding TPWCH. And that’s in no way because of, but rather really in spite of all you readers, who have been nothing but supportive, often not just as a fan but as a friend. So that you for that! ^_^ But what can I say, I’m hard on myself. That feeling makes me avoid writing, which only increases the feeling of failure, and so on and so forth.

But putting it all together, I have no idea why it took so long, but I’m finally realizing that the kind of engagement I’m clinging to is just not possible anymore… and not because of any fault of my own. People just… move on. Fandoms ebb and flow (hah). Even I haven’t been nearly as involved in Splatoon as I used to be.

So… I’m going to try to fully let go of that blame and regret. I used guilt to motivate myself, and it worked for a while, but eventually it just burned me out. I used to think it was cliché and dumb, but I really do need to learn to just write for myself and my friends (yes, that includes you!)

So, what’s the plan then?

My plan, for now, is to do something I haven’t done since the very beginning of the fic: create a buffer. My obsession with pushing content the moment it’s ready has not only caused me stressed but also a poorer reading experience for you all.

I’m going to take down the Part 1 Recap. Then, I’m going to keep working on the Part 2 Recap, Chapter #22.5, and Chapter #23. The nice thing about this is that I can work on them in any order I want, or simultaneously! When I finish, likely near the end of the year, I’ll post the Part 1 Recap, Part 2 Recap, Chapter #22.5, and each part of Chapter #23 at regular intervals. That should give me some time to work on Chapter #24 as those are releasing, and we’ll see where things go from there! By then, I’ll be headed to Japan, and who knows what that will be like!

That may feel like a long time away, but don’t fear! I’ll also be posting Sneak Peeks here irregularly, so you can still have a little content to hold you over and keep up the excitement!

Thank you as always to everyone who has had an impact on my life through this fic! You all mean so incredibly much to me 🥹

[quickspinner]

I just realized that Beautiful Dreams hasn't been updated since 2020, and it's not in your WIP updates anymore. Are you still planning to finish that one? I know it's been a while. I love all of your works, and I just reread what there is of that one.

The short answer is that I don't consider it abandoned, I do still intend to finish it, but I'm not actively working on it right now. I have hopes for the fall, when all my offspring-related obligations will be grouped together instead of spread over the whole day. Hopefully I should have more consecutive hours of free time.

All my excuses are under the cut 😂

2020 derailed everything. Beautiful Dreams is a bit emotionally heavy and I found that really hard to deal with in 2020. I also made the mistake (?) of posting Killer Combo while I was still working on it, and it turns out I really can't handle working/updating two multichapter projects at once. KC was lighter and therefore easier to work on so it got finished first. From there it was just one thing after another, some of them (many of them) self-inflicted and some health or family related. But as of right now, I have a bunch of unfinished fics that were either gifts or exchange pieces for friends and I really want to finish those, all of which (except apparently Indelible which got much, much, muchmuchmuch bigger than I expected when I started posting it) first. I want to finish Indelible and Guard My Heart, which are the two most complicated/intensive stories I have on the go, before I even think about getting back into Beautiful Dreams. BD just takes up too much mental space to share with those fics and still make any progress. Live With It and The Magic of You shouldn't be nearly so much work to finish so hopefully I can make some progress on those in between the big stuff and they won't be an impediment to getting back to BD.

Right now I have so little writing time that I've been focusing almost exclusively on Indelible. The end, while maybe not exactly near, is in sight on that one and I am extremely ready to check it off the list. 😆

So that's where we are at the moment. You never know what could change, but for now, don't expect updates to BD until Indelible and Guard My Heart are finished. I am doing the LBSC exchange this year, but having learned my lesson with GMH (which I have only managed to leave unfinished this long because @livrever is a dear friend and graciously patient) I'll definitely be doing something I can accomplish by the deadline. Other than that, I don't plan to commit to anything else until the published WIPs are done. That doesn't mean there will be no fics other than that in the meantime. I'll probably do another birthday big bang type thing, for example. No commitments to other people though until the current commitments are settled! Again, I have some hope for the fall that schedules will be more in my favor, but who knows what else might have happened by then. 🤪

Beautiful Dreams has always been a passion project I was really excited about and I would be devastated not to finish it, so I'm not admitting defeat yet. It helps to know people still care about it, so thanks for letting me know you still enjoy it!

[poppyknitt]

You are literally what that anti post was talking about. "You can only ship these things to cope!" And you're going to be the arbiter?

Ok first of all i dont even remember rbing that because it was 4 or 5 am for me and my cat had just woken me up. Second of all:

let me be clear. i don’t send hate mail, i don’t harass. i don’t like it when people ship horrible things publicly in ways that imply they are good because children — i was one of them — can see those ships and assume the abuse they’re experiencing is normal. It’s not the intent but that’s a genuine thing that happens because kids and teens are fucking stupid. But: I don’t tell individuals what to do with their time or harass or bully or anything.

As an adult with sexual trauma from both irl and the internet, i find it uncomfortable and bad to share things that cause harm irl in a positive light. Why? It makes vulnerably-minded people think they’re normal and healthy relationships and topics and thoughts etc. The only time it should be accepted is in the eyes of an unreliable narrator because that’s the POINT of unreliable narration — to mislead the reader/viewer.

Sure, these people shouldn’t consume dark topics if they’re vulnerable to suggestion, but it’s the fact that showing things like abuse and incest and pedophillia positively without acknowledging what they are can cause massive damage to other people that’s bad at all. You don’t like it when people throw horrible insults, right? You don’t like it when people cause psychological damage to others, right? What is normalizing toxicity in the minds of others if not psychological damage?

I don’t care if you proship.

I don’t care if you post it.

Just be clear that this is not something that should be done irl/you support irl.

Sure, these people shouldn’t consume dark topics if they’re vulnerable to suggestion, but it’s the fact that showing things like abuse and incest and pedophillia positively without acknowledging what they are can cause massive damage to other people that’s bad at all. You don’t like it when people throw horrible insults, right? You don’t like it when people cause psychological damage to others, right? What is normalizing toxicity in the minds of others if not psychological damage?

In a day and age where no one has any media literacy, we have to be careful when we post things until this gets fixed.

If you can’t be bothered to put a trigger warning and/or disclaimer about your darker work, you’re an ass. Doesn’t matter what kind of “darker” it is.

I have this stance about folks who don’t trigger warning their abuse fics and their toxic yuri/yaoi fics or whatever. (not fully sure if thats considered proship)

I have this stance about folks who don’t disclaimer their videos for flashing lights or violence.

Just because you can do something that can cause pain to yourself or others doesn’t mean you get to do it without warning others in your presence.

Please don’t send hate mail without the full story. I’m sure you’re well-intentioned and kind, but this was not a kind way to go about it. I did not reblog that post with bad intent, I am open to discussing this topic and learning more as I grew up incredibly sheltered from shipping in its broadest forms and don’t do it myself because of my own repulsions. If you have criticisms and information for me, please send them with respect and I will respond back with respect. Otherwise? Zip it.

No one deserves to be sent vitriol over something you don’t know jack about when it comes to their side of things.

Please be kinder to people.

also look into the jaws effect. very interesting stuff.

[elvisabutler]

love is all that i can give to you

summary: vampires in theory should not be able to procreate. you learn through a bit of an accident that such a theory is wrong. vampires being protective though? that's a theory that's pretty damn true.

fandom: austin butler | elvis ( 2022 )

rating: t-ish? there's a bit of cursing, mild implications of violence, i'd peg it as a t.

word count: 3566

tw: blood mention, vampires, implications of hurting other people, werewolves, twilight jokes because do you really enjoy twilight to some degree if you can't joke about it? pregnancy and babies. a very blink and you miss it mention of child loss and a small mention of austin's mom.

author's note: so. once upon a time i posted an austin as a vampire fic called heart's got teeth. had blood kink, we all loved it. or like some people loved it and then life moved on. however, @diva-1992 requested vampire baby fic in the simplest forms. i said hey i should get it done within a week. that was a month ago and i'd like to formally apologize, things went real weird in my life. however, i do honor my requests when i say i'm gonna do them so hope this did what you wanted, my dear and i'd- promise that if you request something from me again i won't take this long but honestly, much like my "how long will this series be?" estimates are, my "how long will this take to write?" estimates are not the most accurate ever. i've also rewritten this more times than i want to count. not beta read but gave it a quick once over. whatever i missed blame on my two hours of sleep.

"You smell weird." Darce says one day when you're out for coffee, an old habit that started while Austin was filming Elvis and you found yourself wanting to know more about his costars. It's comfortable and routine enough by now that despite the whirlwind that's become Austin's and your life since the release of Elvis, you purposefully make time for it in your schedule. Still, when Darce says things like that out of the blue you have to question why you still choose to hang out with the man.

"Is that your way of telling me I need to shower?" You ask slowly, taking a sip of your peppermint tea. "Because I literally showered like 10 minutes before I met you here. I know I didn't sweat that bad already."

He laughs, shaking his head. "No, it's- you normally smell like your perfume or shampoo but today you don't. You smell kind of like a bakery. Like the bread cooking, maybe a pastry? I don't know what exactly it is, it's just weird. Because I don’t know where I’m getting that smell from.”

You scrunch up your nose partially because you feel a roll of nausea overcome you at the idea of food, which- when did start to get hungry this quickly after eating- and partially because there’s zero reason you should smell like that. In the end you end up just shrugging. “Maybe you’re smelling the girls behind us. They definitely look like they’ve got some of that Bath and Body Works Vanilla stuff going on.”

Darce just laughs and his comment is quickly forgotten until later on that night when Austin says nearly the same thing.

"You taste off." Austin looks at you confused as he pulls away from your neck after taking a sip. “Are you-”

"What the hell? First Darce, now you?" You cut Austin off in a huff, attempting to pull yourself up the bed and out from under him. ‘If I call Kelvin or Alton or Olivia, are they going to tell me I sound weird? I’m pretty sure I’m not hearing weird unless I hallucinated you saying that and I can see you right in front of me looking like you didn’t just tell me I taste off.”

Austin can see that you’re working yourself up and while he has found you very attractive when you get angry, he’s not in the mood to deal with it right now and honestly he’s just as confused as you about Darce saying you smell weird combined with you tasting off somehow to him. 

“Baby- I’m not- you taste almost like you’re sick.” He pauses and very quickly follows that with more of an explanation. “I don’t think you are sick, before you start worrying. But you just taste different. Like my taste buds are telling me not to drink from you. I can't explain it. I've never really experienced this before."

Somehow that was the wrong thing to say because you very quickly follow it up with. “Oh, so now I taste like something you shouldn’t drink from. You’ve just developed an aversion to me, okay. That’s great. I get what, a few months of you drinking from me until your body decides nope, go find another-”

The growl that leaves Austin’s mouth when he kisses you trying to get you to hush up is a warning. He only ever really does it when he starts to get angry and right now hearing you go down the line of thinking he can tell you’re going down is making him see red. He wants to drink from you, he wants to turn you, he wants everything with you and he’s told you this a million times but somehow it always escapes you when your brain is making you doubt his undying- literally- love for you. 

He pulls away and his hand just grazes the side of your face. “Darling. I love you more than anything I’ve ever seen in this world. No amount of my body deciding that it’s not okay for me to drink your blood will change that. Calm down. I’ll ask one of my older vampire friends. Okay? They might have experience with this sort of thing.”

You nuzzle at his hand, your temper cooling just a bit because he’s right. He does love you so very much and he reminds you of that every day. “You promise?”

He smiles slightly and kisses your forehead. “Promise.”

He actually forgets to ask because despite not drinking from you- well you happen to enjoy the night anyway. But the whole thing is forgotten anyway until one night a few weeks later when you’ve fallen asleep as you’ve been doing so often lately and Austin comes home from a hunt to hear your heart beating far too fast for everything to be okay. He trips over a chair or two before he gets to your shared room only to find you fast asleep. Breathing just fine with your nightgown a little tight over your chest but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He looks at your sleeping form in confusion trying to focus on the heartbeat he hears only to realize it’s not yours.If he focuses enough he can hear yours sounding normal but the overwhelming one, the one that has him falling to his knees is still coming from you just not where your heart is. 

“You’re- Holy shit, you’re pregnant.” He whispers to himself knowing fully well you're still asleep and that you're not awake to hear him. You’re pregnant and he didn’t even realize that was possible but the proof is there, he can hear a heartbeat that beats faster than yours centered in your lower abdomen. You’re pregnant with his child that he figured he’d never have. He wants to wake you up and tell you, but he’s covered in blood right now and you need your sleep. God that was why you had been so tired, you were- He would tell you tomorrow morning but for now he was going to shower and curl up with his head next to your stomach just listening to your child’s heartbeat.

When you wake up it’s hard to do so, partially because waking up in general is hard right now- you’ve been so tired that you’re seriously considering going to the doctor to figure out what’s going wrong. But the other reason is that you have an Austin shaped lump kissing on your stomach. That’s weird but not entirely unheard of, especially if he’s in a mood.

“Austin?” You question, your hand moving to his head and just sort of gliding through his hair. ”Hi baby, what are you doing?”

He hums against your stomach and you can’t help but giggle at the sensation. “Kissing my baby.” His lips curl into a smirk at the joke he makes that he gets but you don’t. 

“Oh.” You respond before using you grip to pull him just slightly away from your stomach so he can look up at you. “Uh huh. Kissing your baby. I’m up here. You’re kissing my stomach.”

Austin bites his lip and just looks so happy that you are wondering what the hell is going on. Did he drink from a drunk person? Is he drunk? Is he high? What is happening right now? Your eyes narrow just a tad while Austin just grins at you, his lower lip still being slightly bitten by one of his canines. “No. I’m kissing my baby.”

You understand the words that just came out of his mouth but your brain fails to properly process them until you just stare at Austin’s grin for just a little bit longer and notice his hands are cupping your stomach. “You’re kissing your baby. I’m- Are you telling me I’m- you’re a vampire.”

“I know.” He whispers, moving from his position in your lap and up to your face where he just places a hand on either side of your face. “I can hear them, darling. That’s- You’re definitely pregnant. I don’t know how but-”

“I’m pregnant with your baby.” You manage to state, wide eyed and in such shock you feel a bit of nausea at the thought. “That you didn’t realize I could have. Oh my god.”

He nods and the grin just stays on his face as he gives you a kiss, it’s soft and gentle, almost as if he’s scared you’ll break before he pulls away. “You’re pregnant with my baby. That explains why I couldn’t drink from you. I’m not- it’s the one rule vampires have and I guess our bodies won’t even let us do it either. You taste off because you’re not just you. You’re you and our baby.”

“Our baby.” You let out a nervous laugh. You’re happy, but this is so sudden and so unexpected you don’t quite know how to react. “I- I need to go to the doctor, oh god what if it’s not human- I mean I’d still love it anyway but- Aus! I can’t drink blood what if it needs blood-” Austin shushes you with a finger to your lips.

“You would have already been craving it, baby. And all I think you’ve wanted is steak and spinach which have iron and that’s a normal pregnancy thing, I think. Ashley- no Ashley had to deal with that so that’s a normal pregnancy thing. We’ll go to the doctor, get you checked out. I’ll call up the older vampires I know. See what I can find out. We’ll- if anyone can do this, it’s you."

There's times when Austin annoys you and makes you want to drive a stake through his heart because he's being just that much of a pain in your ass. This isn't one of them, this is one of those times you find yourself so overcome with love that all you really want to do is kiss him over and over again. You sniffle a little, tears of what you think are joy threatening to spill out before you kiss Austin softly. "Austin Butler, you don't need to say something as charming as that, you've already got me pregnant."

"I'm only telling my goddess of a girlfriend the truth." He replies simply before pulling you out of bed. "Now, mama, I think you deserve a special breakfast made by your very appreciative baby daddy."

The thing is Austin before you were pregnant was protective which was fun. It was hot even, but since he found out you were pregnant it’s gotten so much worse.You swear you can’t even leave the house without him following behind you making sure you don’t fall down the two steps outside of his house and of course he needs to walk you to the car. Now that he’s at the car, oh well he might as well come with you and scare off anyone who comes anywhere within a 5 foot radius of you and your stomach.The amount of times you had to apologize for Austin’s behavior increased the further along you were. It all came to a head one day when you were going to go out for your lunch date with Darce. He had been filming a new movie and so you hadn’t seen him for months in person. He hadn’t seen you in person for months, sure you had told him you and Austin were expecting but- there was a difference between that and seeing you in person. 

“I’ll be back in a couple hours!” You shout heading to the door knowing fully well that Austin is practicing his lines for his upcoming shoot. “Love you, Aus!”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” He asks, popping his head out of the room he was in. “I can bring the script with me, it’s not a big deal.”

“It’s lunch with Darce, Austin. It’s harmless.” Your hand strays to your stomach and rubs it, more out of comfort than anything else. “I’ll be fine, I promise.” 

His eyebrow quirks up. “It’s with Darce? I thought-” You hold your hand up.

“Not another word, Mr. Butler. I will see you later, go read your lines.” You smile before making a quick getaway or what you thought was a quick getaway.

When you see Darce at the restaurant you can’t help the way you grin and end up just barreling into him with the biggest hug you could manage. Rather than just letting you hug him he picked you up, mindful of your bump. He puts you down and motions for you to twirl which you do without question. 

“You look phenomenal and I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, Austin is a lucky man.” Darce pulls out your chair and waits for you to sit down. “How did you get him to let you leave his sight? I’ve seen the stories.”

You groan. “I practically ran out of the house. He was mildly offended when i told him it was you I was going out with.” 

Darce opens his mouth before shutting it with what sounds like a mix of a groan and sigh. You can’t help but tilt your head and raise an eyebrow waiting for him to say whatever has him making that noise. “I’m not- Really not surprised.” 

Now it was your turn to be making the weird noise because you’re confused. Honestly, the way Austin had been protecting you was weird but you pegged it as him wanting to protect something he didn’t know you two could have. You could understand that, but separating you from a friend? Someone who he also defines as at least somewhat of a friend just didn’t make sense. There had to be another reason because you know that Darce would protect you just like he’d protect any of his friends. “Why? Because from where I’m standing it’s just my boyfriend being mildly controlling because I’m pregnant. But maybe that’s just me.”

There is a moment when Darce just looks into the distance behind you like he has seen a thousand lifetimes pass before his eyes. It occurs to you that maybe Austin is madman and is behind you, but when you don’t hear Darce say Austin’s name you realize it’s just that Darce doesn’t want to answer the question. You start to open your mouth to speak before- “Probably because I’m a werewolf and his brain is telling him I’m going to eat you and your kid.”

“You’re not a cannibal- Hold- What.” You brain had only really processed the words going to eat you and your kid, nothing else originally but once you started speaking your brain caught up fairly quickly and you find that your head is swimming a little before you speak again. “Did you just- You’re a werewolf? You- I think I’m going to pass out.”

“Please don’t.” Darce says very quickly as soon as you start breathing a little quicker. “I thought you knew.”

“You-” You force yourself to take a calming breath because stress wasn’t good for the baby but if looks could kill the one you give Darce would do it. “In what universe do you think I assume that everyone I meet is a supernatural entity. My boyfriend being one is an anomaly and for statistical purposes I don’t count it in my daily assumption/allotment of supernatural creatures. I didn’t think-” You pause. “No one assumes vampires and werewolves are real. I can be forgiven for not thinking you were a werewolf. Were you ever going to tell me this? Was he?”

And almost as if Austin had suddenly turned into Beetlejuice or just sensed something was wrong you feel the very familiar arms of your boyfriend wrapping around your shoulders. “No, because I assumed you knew. He’s not subtle about it. Look at him.”

Any other time Austin’s arms would be a comforting balm for you but all it inspires in you in that exact moment is bit of rage and overwhelming annoyance. Your voice drops to a very sharp whisper. “You remember how I reacted when you told me you were a vampire, right honey? How I was surprised? Hm. Now what makes you think I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Darce fucking Montgomery is a werewolf. Get your arms off me, darling. I’m mad and I don’t think you’re gonna like me mad right now.”

“Baby-” Austin starts before you cut him off.

“Y/N-” Darce also starts before you cut him off in the same breath.

“No. Both of you. I-” You shrug your shoulders to get Austin’s arms off your shoulders and move to get up out of your chair, a little slower than you’d like which gives austin enough time to try and stop you. “No, I’m going to go home- I’ll leave the two of you to have a little supernatural tete a tete.” 

“Darling-” He stops himself while trying to grab ahold of your shoulders. “You know- Look at me I didn’t mean anything by not telling you. I honestly thought you knew because you took me being a vampire so well- don’t- I just want to protect you and Kenna Rose.”

You look up at Austin focusing on his eyes and how he looks like he’s liable to cry in public, something he’s never been a fan of doing even before Elvis and his newfound larger fame. It’s a sign that he’s being genuine and it makes your shoulders loosen a little and the tension to leave your frame. Austin’s still looking at you and his hand moves to your stomach when your daughter chooses that moment to actually kick at where Austin’s palm is. Any tension and most of the anger that was still in your system just sort of floats away once you see Austin’s small smile at the gesture. You’re still annoyed and both him and Darce owe you a number of things to make up for this but maybe they weren’t completely silly for thinking you knew. 

“I know Aus.” You whisper, nuzzling at his neck and placing a soft kiss there. “You’re just being- really overbearing. I know you want to protect me. And I know that you want to protect Kenna Lori Rose.” His eyebrows go up at the use of his mother’s name breaking up the name he thought you two had decided on for your daughter. “I’m not complaining about that, but Austin, trust me to know when I’m doing too much and to protect myself. I don’t want to lose her any more than you do.”

Darce pipes up from his seat. “Austin, you know you’re part of the pack- my pack at least. All three of you, I couldn’t hurt them if I tried. My wolf would rather I jump in front of a bunch of silver bullets.”

You snicker and Austin looks at you with a bit of admonishment before exhaling and getting on his knees to press a soft kiss to your stomach. Your hand moves to touch his head, your fingers running through his long locks in a bit of comfort. “I know that, Y/N. She’s just special to- I never thought I’d have a kid since I was turned and you’re giving me one. I’m getting one from the most perfect human I’ve ever met.” He places another kiss, knowing fully well that someone is probably hiding a bush across the street with a camera taking a picture of this but he can’t bring himself to care. “And you’re- Kenna Lori Rose, you snuck that one on me, darling. Naming her partially after my mom.”

The smile that crosses your lips as you shrug is soft and barely there. “She’s a miracle and her due date is on the 27th. How could I not?”

His hand moves to his eyes to wipe at them as he stands up and pulls you close to his chest. “You really had no choice.” 

“I mean, I did, but I knew it would mean something to you.” You pause and look over at Darce before turning back to Austin. “So, can I enjoy my lunch date or does Mr. Overprotective Dad need to make sure I’m eating my veggies.” 

Austin has the decency to look chagrined before he holds up his hands. “Enjoy away, I’m pretty sure Jupiter and Ashley would welcome me with open arms today.” His lips sneak a quick kiss and his hand sneaks a quick brush of your bump before he lets you go back to sitting down. He looks at Darce. “Take care of her this lunch and we’ll talk about that whole godfather thing.”

Darce doesn’t say a word when you narrow your eyes at him. You wait until Austin’s out of earshot before you say the one joke that’s actually been in the back of your mind. “This isn’t some weird imprinting thing like Twilight, right?”

Darce’s laughter almost gets the pair of you kicked out of the restaurant. 

You get your answer when Kenna is born and the first person other than you and Austin to hold her is him. It’s not. It’s just a werewolf protecting his most fragile pack member just like Austin’s thing was him protecting his coven’s most fragile member. 

It doesn’t stop after she’s born and you’re okay with it.

[gukyi]

the love project | jjk

summary: from running to mcdonald’s at 3am after a halloween party where the two of you dressed up as the teletubbies to timing how long it takes for him to drink a cup of monster mixed with mountain dew and iced coffee and then do fifty push-ups, you’re used to your best friend jungkook asking you to do all sorts of crazy things. but, of all the shit the two of you do, letting him follow you around for a week with a camera and take candid photos of you for a photography assignment might just be the craziest of them all.

{college!au, friends to lovers!au}

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff, comedy word count: 12k warnings: college antics, hopeless pining, slow burn a/n: me: this fic will be 10k max! also me: actually nevermind on par for the course of this blog, i hope you enjoy this fic! it was so much fun to write and it definitely got me back into the ~writing mood~. more fics coming soon!

These days, the weeks pass you by like trains on a platform. They whiz past you, the only discernible features being the beginning and the end of them, with the middle nothing but a blur. 

At least, that’s how it feels when you’re in college, and the days bleed into weeks bleed into months, and suddenly you’re one year closer to graduating, one year closer to figuring out what next to do with your life, even if you’re still missing that one general education requirement you forgot to take in your first year so now you’re trying to cram it into your schedule at the last minute.

Okay, you’ll admit it. Introduction to Astronomy is kicking your ass. That’s what you get for putting it off until junior year, when you’re supposed to have reached the point in your History major career where you don’t have to look at numbers anymore and the idea of doing basic math is absolutely unfathomable. History majors don’t do math. They just don’t. It vanished from your academic arsenal long before now, alongside your ability to interpret word problems and understand science textbooks. 

Perhaps in another universe, you would have actually retained those skills past high school, but that universe is not this one, and so your problem sets can solve themselves or not be solved at all. 

Your best friend would have to disagree.

“It’s not even calculus!” Jungkook exclaims over a mouthful of a Starbucks tomato and pesto panini, pointing to your laptop in exasperation, as if the answer has been staring you in the face for the past fifteen minutes. “It’s just algebra! All you’re doing is plugging the numbers into the formula and finding the missing variable!”

“Easy for you to say,” you huff, furiously erasing at the notebook in front of you as you get yet another incorrect answer. Who knew math could be so difficult? Oh, that’s right. You did. “You took that advanced differential equations class for fun last year. It’s not even required for your major. You’re just a masochist.”

“Says the person who convinced their advisor to let them take seven classes because they, and I quote, ‘all seemed so interesting’ and you ‘didn’t want to miss out.’” Jungkook rebukes pointedly. “Because your life would be so terrible if you didn’t take Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe.”

He’s got you there. Seven classes is a lot. In your defense, Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe was very interesting and you got a 4.0 that semester. So who is he to judge? Jungkook’s favorite pastime is pretending that taking three different computer science classes in a single semester isn’t going to single-handedly kill him.

Jungkook watches you struggle for a few moments more before he sighs, like he can’t take looking at someone so mathematically incompetent any longer. He stuffs the remaining third of his Starbucks panini into his mouth all at once like the ravenous beast he is before he reaches over the tiny table you’re sat at to look at your problem set himself. He turns your laptop towards him and grabs hold of your notebook, furrowing his eyebrows as he enters Work Jungkook Mode. 

Work Jungkook Mode is the mode of him you see most often during finals week or the rare occasions where you meet up to actually try and get work done. Work Jungkook has tunnel vision for whatever assignment is currently in front of him, which he will do either in one sitting or die trying. Work Jungkook lets his coffee get cold and forgets to answer your text messages, even when you’re sat right across from him and you know that he can see the notification on his laptop. Work Jungkook refuses to turn in anything that he hasn’t devoted his entire being to, even if it’s something as simple as a discussion board post. Some of his other friends say that when Jungkook is in Work Jungkook Mode, they won’t even try to contact him, lest their messages get lost in the flurry of his coding assignments. 

But you are not “some of his other friends.” You are his best friend. So rules do not apply to you. And Jungkook has long accepted that fact.

“Hey, don’t mess up my work—” You exclaim defensively, grabby hands reaching over the table to retrieve your notebook. “Wait, how did you do that?”

Jungkook scribbles something down in nearly-illegible font, determined to solve the problem in front of him. He thinks for a few more seconds before eventually jotting down an answer, circling it with his pencil. Holding the notebook out so both of you can see, he scoots his chair over to your side of the table, your shoulders pressed together in this tiny corner of the Starbucks, right by the bathroom, and explains, step by step, what he did. 

He does that for the following two problems in your set, walking you through the kind of math he was doing in freshman year of high school like it’s nothing, answering all of your stupid questions and giving you tips on how to finesse the system by taking as many shortcuts as possible. Teaching you things you never learned, or possibly had just forgotten. Things that a professor would think is idiotic to re-teach to a junior in university. Things that Jungkook wants you to know because he just wants you to have a little more faith in yourself. 

“Does that help?” He asks when he’s finished, still doubting his fantastic teaching abilities despite the fact that he just taught you more in the last thirty minutes than your professor has managed in a month and a half. 

“It actually does,” you tell him, pleasantly surprised. Looking back down at your notebook, what was once a shapeless blur of numbers, letters, and formulas is suddenly a clear and organized outline of each and every step to follow. “I didn’t know it was that easy.”

“Anything can be easy if you just commit yourself to learning how to do it,” Jungkook says, one of those random sentences that are too wise for a college student surviving off of RedBull and Starbucks food, the ones that always make you think Jungkook is secretly an immortal sage with life experiences far beyond your own. “Except coding. Which is hard no matter how good you are at it.”

“Aw, you can do it,” you rally, reaching up to pinch his chin in between your fingers and squeeze it tight. “It’s also too late to change your major now, so you’re stuck.”

“Wow, thanks for the encouragement,” Jungkook chides, hand coming up to rub at where you held his jaw, rolling his eyes. “You should let me help you with your Astronomy work more often. Gives me a break from Python.”

“I would have made you help me whether you liked it or not,” you tell him pointedly, because he is your best friend and he doesn’t get out of things as easily as he thinks he can. “But thanks. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

“Of course,” Jungkook says with a good-natured grin, always so selfless and kind and giving. He practically signed himself up for a semester’s worth of TA-ing for Introduction to Astronomy despite the constant mountain of work he has himself. Just because it’s you. 

“My very own personal genius,” you muse, wrapping your hands around his arm and snuggling into his body, a whisper of a language only the two of you share. It’s something the two of you have long gotten used to, pressing your fingers all over each other’s bodies like it’s second nature. One of the things that makes you feel so certain about having Jungkook in your life. About wanting him to stay with you for the rest of time. “I’m never letting you go.”

Jungkook smiles, a warm hand coming to rest atop of your own. He breathes, in and out, chest rising beneath your touch. “Like I’d ever let you,” he says.

There is no question about it. Jungkook is one hundred percent, absolutely, undoubtedly, positively, indisputably smarter than you are. It’s something that the two of you used to jokingly fight about (because Jungkook claims that he’s a bad essay writer, even though he’s not), but at this point it’s cemented in stone—he’s a damn genius. A genius who is inexplicably good at everything. A double threat. Triple, if you count the fact that he’s built beyond belief and could probably chuck you into next week if you really, really ticked him off. 

The truth is that, ninety percent of the time it is you who is going to Jungkook for help. Whether it be an assignment you need assistance on (namely Astronomy, because Jungkook probably couldn’t help you on your Mesopotamian artifact and primary source analyses despite his best intentions), a date that was a lot worse than you were hoping it would be, or even just the right coffee to order from that expensive place on the corner. Jungkook knows how to fix everything. 

So when Jungkook slides into the seat across from you in the food court after his Mastering Photography class with that I’m in trouble look on his face, you know something is horribly wrong. 

“Are you alright?” You ask, concerned as you watch him devour the sushi takeout in front of him, stuffing the spicy tuna rolls into his mouth like they’re Skittles. His camera hangs haphazardly out of his open backpack, like he barely had enough time to stuff it into the pocket while he was making his way here. There’s a worried expression written all over his face as he fumbles with the chopsticks in his hand, losing his grip on them every ten seconds. 

It’s not until Jungkook has finished the container of spicy tuna rolls in front of them that he finally seems to work up the courage to answer you. 

“My Photography class is gonna be the death of me,” Jungkook exclaims, exasperated. 

“I thought you liked it,” you comment unhelpfully. Jungkook had been so excited to be enrolled in it, because you needed a recommendation from a different professor and you had to submit a portfolio in order to join the class, making it one of those exclusive (and thus, much better) courses. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook is basically already a professional photographer if his Instagram is anything to go by. He’s going to walk out of university with a Photography minor whether he realizes it or not.

“I do,” Jungkook insists, even if right now it sounds like the two of you both need convincing of that fact. “But this project is ridiculous. I don’t even know how my professor expects us to have the time to finish it.”

“What do you have to do?”

Jungkook sighs. Just thinking about it seems to stress him out. “I mean, it’s only really a week long. So I guess it’s not too bad. But we’re supposed to compile a portfolio of the same subject, taken over the course of the week, with them in all sorts of different poses and lighting and locations, to express a personal theme.”

You scrunch your nose up in confusion. “I might be wrong, but isn’t that what photography… is?” You ask cluelessly. 

“Yes,” Jungkook argues, “but also no. Photography is taking pictures of things just for the hell of it. Not because they necessarily speak to a part of your soul. You just like the look of it. You want to capture the scene. That’s it.”

“Oh,” You say dumbly. 

“And our subject can be whoever or whatever we want, but he recommended choosing a person because taking pictures of our water bottles in different places is boring,” Jungkook huffs, though his professor does have a point there. Modern history wasn’t made out of photographs of store windows and miscellaneous items. It was made out of people, out of events in their lives that shaped the rest of the world, out of personal experiences that changed their point of view. “But I don’t even know anybody who would be willing to let me photograph them for a whole week! I’d basically have to follow them around like paparazzi!”

“I’ll do it,” you suggest casually, because it seems like the most obvious choice to you. There’s no one Jungkook spends as much time with as you. 

Jungkook’s eyes pop out of his head. “What?”

“I’m serious,” you insist. “Think about it. You need a subject for your project that you can photograph in a wide variety of places and over the course of a week. Who else do you spend that much time with, other than me?”

“Well..” Jungkook begins, trying to fight your reasons with his own. “Would you even be comfortable with something like that? I mean, I’m literally going to constantly be taking photos of you.”

“Like we don’t already do that on our phones,” you tease, having amassed quite the album of terrible Jungkook pictures over the years. 

“A camera is different from a phone,” Jungkook protests weakly. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’m just saying. It won’t bother me,” you say with a shrug. Why is Jungkook being so… weird about your suggestion? You thought he would be jumping at the offer, especially considering it means he won’t have to go out of his way to find and photograph someone else for this assignment. But he’s being rather hesitant. You watch as he glares down at his empty sushi takeout box, eyebrows furrowed in that thick, nervous way. “But you don’t have to,” you backtrack. “It was just a suggestion.”

He breathes in and breathes out, expression solid. Even from here you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, placing each and every potential result into a pro and con list inside his mind, trying to work out whether the benefits will be greater than the cost. 

Quite frankly, you don’t know what all the holdup is about. 

“You’re… sure about this?” He asks, looking up at you, determined to ensure your comfort. As if that’s even an issue. “You’re cool with being photographed and everything?”

“Only because it’s you,” you tease lightheartedly, expecting some sort of equally cheesy response. Instead, it makes Jungkook do something weird. He freezes in place, darting his eyes away from your gaze for a split second, collecting thoughts you can’t see. “Yeah,” you say loudly, trying to bring him back. “I’m fine with it.”

He inhales, exhales, closes his eyes, and opens them. “Okay then. I guess it’s settled. You’ll be my subject,” he declares, an almost unnoticeable wobble to his voice. It’s probably nothing, so you don’t think too hard about it.

“Can you at least pretend to be a little more excited about this?” You ask, jabbing him in the chest with a wooden chopstick. “It’s the first time we’ve ever gotten to be part of a project together!”

“Yay,” Jungkook says, lifeless. 

“How about a photo to commemorate it?” You suggest, reaching over to pull the camera out of his backpack, pushing it into his hands. “This can be the start of your portfolio.”

“Fine,” he eventually caves, bringing it up to his eye as he turns it on, twisting the lens to perfect the focus. Even caught off guard like this, he looks like a professional, like someone who was born to be behind the camera. He’s a computer science major but you know that photography will always be something special to him.

You strike a dramatic pose, holding your chopsticks out, one in each hand, with a wide, excited smile on your face. “How do I look?” You ask, scrunching your eyes together. 

Jungkook’s finger hovers over the silver button. “Perfect,” he tells you, voice soft and honest. 

Click.

“So, how many photos are you supposed to take for this portfolio?” You ask as you flop around on Jungkook’s bed, pretending that the open tab on your laptop with your fifty-page reading doesn’t exist. You don’t even know why professors assign readings that long. Do they really expect you to read all of it?

From across his room, you can make out the top of Jungkook’s fluffy brown hair over his sleek gaming chair, one of the ones that look like high-tech airplane seats. “I don’t know,” he says. “He said at least twenty. And no more than fifty. Which really makes me wonder if someone once submitted like, one hundred photos for this project that he had to grade them on. But yeah.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you say. When you’re around a cute animal, you can easily take twenty photographs. Granted, they aren’t exactly award-worthy photographs, but it’s not a physically demanding task. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook says. “Hypothetically you could finish it in a day. But it looks really obvious.”

“Well, how many do you have now?”

It’s been a day and a half since Jungkook agreed to let you be his so-called muse, but already you’ve lost track of how many photos he’s taken of you. He loves his camera, you know that, but you didn’t realize exactly how much he loves his camera. And with you as the sole subject for his project, he’s practically letting it hang from his neck all day long, just waiting for the right time to snap a photo of you standing in line at the food court, frowning at your textbook, or waiting to meet up with him. Every time he sees you he snaps a picture, even if the lighting’s bad, even if you haven’t had your morning coffee yet, even if it’s midnight and you look like a zombie. In his mind, there are no bad pictures. Just memories.

You wonder what the hell he sees in you. 

“A lot,” Jungkook answers unhelpfully, making no effort to elaborate on that statement. 

“Have you counted?” You ask, getting off of his bed to join him at his desk. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize what you’re doing until you’re standing right next to him, placing a hand over his shoulders as you lean down next to him. He fumbles around for a second, the mouse slipping through his grip, and you catch a glimpse of one of the photos he’s taken of you, a sliver of your pursed lips, the wrinkles between your eyebrows. 

It’s from the library yesterday. You didn’t even know Jungkook had taken a picture of you there. You had a stupid reading to complete last night, one that made no sense and was terribly-written, and you spent an hour just trying to figure out what the damn argument was, and Jungkook captured it. You were there for an hour and Jungkook was there too, watching you like it was nothing, waiting for the perfect moment. He was there, sitting across from you, camera at the ready. You didn’t even hear it click. 

He closes it before you get a closer look at the photo, frantically hitting the little red dot at the top corner of the window before you have a chance to ask why. 

“What, I’m not allowed to see?” You chide, a little bit hurt but more confused than anything else. Why is Jungkook being so secretive?

“No,” Jungkook spits quickly. making you raise an eyebrow in alarm. “I mean, it’s a surprise. You get to see when it’s finished. I still have to… uh, edit. And stuff.”

“Edit? You think I’m that ugly?” You tease, knowing that he probably means color correction but enjoying the way that he gets all flustered when he hears your voice.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at that, like he just realized he made a wrong turn and is desperately backtracking. “What, no! I don’t—I don’t think you’re ugly.”

You laugh, letting the sound of your voice ease the tension in his shoulders, reveling in the way his big doe eyes seem to soften when he realizes you were just teasing. He looks like a kid caught stealing a candy bar from a gas station, looks like one of those boyfriends in the viral videos where the girl reveals that she got him a present or something instead, all nervous and full of explanations. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you assure him, rubbing up and down his arm to soothe him, calm his heart down. “You don’t have to show me. I’m just excited. No one’s ever taken photos of me like this before.”

“I would,” Jungkook speaks up softly. “If you asked. I would.”

“I know,” You say. You’re not sure if there’s a thing in this world Jungkook wouldn’t do for you, and you, him. If he asked, you would pluck the stars from the sky for him. Bring him back a piece of the moon. Stop time. Anything. Everything. Just for him. “I know.”

��“What are you doing?” Jungkook asks, changing the topic as he whirls around in his gaming chair. 

“Just another reading, like always,” you dismiss, because you’re positive the last thing Jungkook wants to hear about right now is your primary source reading on irrigation techniques in agrarian Europe. You don’t even want to hear about it. “But I could use some help on Astronomy.”

Without another word, Jungkook gets up from his desk and the two of you head over to his bed, where an untouched problem set waits on your computer. He grabs a notebook from his backpack along the way before sitting down next to you on the edge of his bed, bodies pressed together. Slowly, he begins to coach you through each problem, step by step, drawing pictures and diagrams if he has to, until you finish all ten problems. 

The truth is, you didn’t really need help with this unit. Astronomy’s gotten a lot easier now that Jungkook has taught you the strategies to tackle it. But Jungkook sometimes feels like a ghost when he works, especially when he’s sitting at his desk, quiet and focused and almost invisible. And call you clingy, but you like it when you can look up and see his face instead of the back of a chair, a little tuft of wavy brown hair. You like it when he’s right beside you, in a place where you know you won’t lose him, where you can hold on if things get rough. Where you can see his stupid brown eyes and his goofy smile and know that he’ll always be there for you. 

When he’s finished, Jungkook doesn’t get back up to sit at his desk. He flops down on his back, staring up at the white ceiling of his room, eyes tracing the cracks. You join him, side by side, pretending that there’s something there. Looking up at the sky would be nicer, but it doesn’t really matter, so long as you’re with him.

“I didn’t know you took so many photos,” you say.

“I never want to miss anything.”

“You should give me more warnings, next time. I feel like I look so ugly in some of them.”

“No, you don’t. Don’t say stuff like that.”

“You don’t think I’m ugly?” You ask him, for real this time. It’s not that you think he’s going to say that he does, it’s that you want to know what he really thinks. How he really sees you. You turn your head to him, back pressed against his comforter, barely a foot apart. And he turns back to you, and he’s right there, right there in front of you, big brown eyes wide and blinking. He’s right there, how could you miss him?

“No,” Jungkook says, honest and true. He looks at you, looks right at you, right into you, and he muses to himself, chuckling. “Why would I ever think that?”

At the end of the day, you can’t really be bothered to put on real pants in anticipation of Jungkook’s trigger-happy camera-taking tendencies. He’s seen you spill a boiling hot bowl of tomato soup all over yourself in the dining hall. He’s seen you at four in the morning in the library the night before finals begin, eyebags down to your knees and mismatched shoes on your feet. He’s seen you in the middle of a frat house, sweat dripping down your forehead and smelling of nothing but straight alcohol. Getting dressed up just for him would be antithetical to the very foundation of your friendship. 

You have, however, become keenly more cognizant in the last few days of when Jungkook is about to take a photo of you. Mostly because you glance up at your surroundings every three seconds to make sure you aren’t getting sniped from across the food court. Nobody else needs to see a picture of you picking up three pieces of sushi with your chopsticks and stuffing them all into your mouth at once. And, from what you can tell, you’ve been pretty successful, which either means you’ve gotten better at telling when Jungkook might be taking a photo of you, or Jungkook’s gotten better at hiding it. 

Either way, he’s got a lot more pictures of you reflexively flashing a peace-sign in his direction when you hear the telltale sound of his camera lens focusing, so you’re not really sure what that means for the fate of his portfolio. 

Besides your newfound hyper-awareness of the sound of a camera lens adjusting, the strangest part of you and Jungkook’s little project is how quickly the rest of your friends adjusted to this brand new dynamic. 

This is not to say this assignment is the weirdest thing you and Jungkook have done together, because there was once one week where you and Jungkook challenged each other to only eat bananas for every meal to see if anything would happen to either of you. Nothing did, but after that week you swore off bananas for the rest of your life and have had little appetite for them since. 

It’s more that your other friends have just accepted the fact that ridiculous, extravagant shenanigans are a necessary part of you and Jungkook’s relationship and have simply chosen not to question them anymore. At least, most of them have. 

“So, how’s you and Jungkook’s little photography fling going?” Maisie asks, and even through the phone you can hear the way she’s wiggling her eyebrows. 

“It’s not a fling, and it’s fine,” you hiss back, trying to keep your voice down as you pack up your belongings, phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder. “Stop speaking so loudly, everyone else in the library can probably hear you.”

“Good, because they’ve all probably noticed the way Jungkook’s been following you around like an unrestrained fanboy for the past four days taking pictures of you,” Maisie says pointedly, voice so sharp it causes you to look around at the other tables to make sure no one’s listening in. 

You frown, hoping your deadpan expression is audible through the phone. “It’s not like that and you know it.”

“Don’t you think it’s even a little strange that you’ve given Jungkook full permission to take photos of you like you’re a model and he’s some sort of weird, professional paparazzi?” You can practically see Maisie’s face in front of you, all wide eyes and raised eyebrows as she makes her point.

“No, it’s what we agreed on,” you remind her for the umpteenth time. There’s nothing weird about this. You’re helping him with a project, what more could it be? “Jungkook needed someone to take pictures of for his photography project and I thought it would be a good idea if I was that someone.”

“Hmm… wonder why…” Maisie trails off, deliberately vague and suggestive all at once. 

“You’ve been going on about this ever since Jungkook and I met, Maise,” you say with a roll of your eyes, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. “You know that Jungkook and I are just friends. Like we have always been.”

“Friends that take candid photos of each other under the guise of a project,” Maisie adds, and you can see the air quotes around the word “project” right in front of you.

“Friends that help each other out because that’s what friends do,” you correct. “You’re just going to have to accept the fact that Jungkook and I are always going to be just friends and nothing more. No matter how much money you’ve bet on us getting together.”

Maisie gasps. “I have not bet money on such a thing! This is slander!”

“Don’t think I don’t see you and Jimin’s damn Venmo history.” You pull up to the front desk of the library to check out a primary source book needed for one of your classes. It’s the first edition, and it’s battered beyond belief, but it’s better than paying for it. “Just this, thanks.”

“The only way you could convince me that you and Jungkook are just friends is if you go on a date or something,” Maisie comments snidely. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of you romantically interested in someone else the entire time you’ve known each other. Isn’t that proof enough?”

“You want me to go on a date with someone?” You demand, determined to get Maisie to hop off your ass about this. 

You and Jungkook are just friends. If swiping right with someone on Tinder and getting dinner and a movie with them is what will convince Maisie of that, then that is what you will do. It’s not as if being friends with Jungkook is mutually exclusive with you going out with other people. Should be easy, right? 

The boy behind the counter tells you your book is due back at the end of the semester, and you nod your thanks before heading out of the library.

“Fine, I’ll go on a date with someone. If it’ll get you to stop trying to convince me that Jungkook and I are gonna get married and have babies,” you declare, pushing your body against the door handles as you leave, five minutes to spare before your next class begins. 

“You guys would have really cute babies, I’m just saying,” Maisie points out like it’s nothing. 

You roll your eyes, taking the phone away from your ear as your finger hovers over the red button. “See you, Maise.”

You’re barely three steps out of the library, still rolling your eyes at the Call Ended screen on your phone when a voice catches your attention. 

“Y/N!”

You turn your head just in time to see Jungkook’s devilish grin disappear behind his camera, and you don’t even have time to blink before he begins snapping away, finger mashing the silver button at the top as your expression morphs from surprise to defeat, unable to counter his sniping abilities with a signature peace sign. Even from twenty feet away, you can hear Jungkook laughing as you take the opportunity to pose for a few moments, like you really are a model and he really is your personal photographer. The sound of his giggles fills the air, music to your ears, lingering between you like dandelion wisps, blown by the wind. 

Another voice breaks you from your trance. 

“And here we have our resident celebrity and her paparazzi,” Jimin says, motioning to the two of you as he speaks to an enormous tour group of potential applicants and their parents. Caught in front of them, the heat suddenly rushes to your cheeks as you instinctively cover your face, embarrassed to have been pointed out by Jimin, whose amicable, lovable personality is both a blessing and a curse when it comes to his part-time job as a tour guide. 

The worst part is how some of the parents and students seem to believe him for a second, that you really are famous and that Jungkook really is your photographer, looking at the two of you inquisitively as you shrink beneath their gazes. 

“I’m kidding,” Jimin quickly continues as Jungkook joins you where you stand, laughing at the way you look like a deer caught in headlights. “They’re just some friends of mine who we happened to catch outside the library, which is our next stop. But don’t they look so cute together?”

“Are you guys dating?” One of the students pipes up, asking what no one else dared to. 

Your eyes widen at the notion, wondering if you and Jungkook really are cursed to always be mistaken for a couple when you two have never been, and most likely will never be one. Shaking your head, you force out a laugh, “No, we’re just friends.” Beside you, Jungkook is noticeably silent. You suppose he’s gotten just as sick of explaining as you. 

“Bummer, right?” Jimin asks his group, earning a couple of disappointed nods from innocent high-schoolers that still believe in love. “But I’m working on that, so don’t worry. Anyway, this library will be your main destination for studying, book-reading, and everything in between, and is conveniently located two minutes away from the freshman dorms…”

The conversation finally drawn away from you and Jungkook, you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you had been holding in. “Weird, right? Even high-schoolers think we’re together.”

Jungkook doesn’t meet your eyes, fiddling with the settings on his camera just to keep his hands busy. The quiet makes you wonder what is going on up inside his head, makes you wonder what it is he’s thinking about, what it is you’re not seeing. Lately, it’s felt like there’s something on Jungkook’s mind you wish he felt comfortable telling you. 

“Hey, you alright?” You ask, giving him a little nudge with your side. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Jungkook says, voice soft, barely audible. It doesn’t make you feel any better. “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Don’t you have class soon?”

“Oh, shit, you’re right, fuck,” you say, checking your phone only to find you have barely a minute to get to your next class. Guess you’ll be using one of your allotted absences today. “Thanks for reminding me. Dinner tonight?”

“I’ll text you,” Jungkook promises, and you nod your agreement as you dash off, determined to turn a five-minute walk into a one-minute one with the power of exercise. As you leave, you watch as Jungkook flounders outside the library, staring down at his camera and scrolling through his photos, and you still find yourself feeling like you’re missing something. What is Jungkook not telling you? 

What do you not know?

By the time you reach your class, two minutes late and completely out of breath, tardiness is the last thing on your mind.

This project was just meant to be a friend helping out a friend. So why does it feel like you and Jungkook are losing each other?

Using Tinder is easy. Dangerously so.

You’re no expert in app design, but its simplified “yes or no” mechanic has you swiping through people like it’s an extreme sport, barely giving some of them a second glance if their Tinder profile description doesn’t make you laugh within the first sentence. 

Tinder was, admittedly, not your first choice of potential date-finding methods. Call you old-fashioned, but whatever happened to asking someone in person if they wanted to get a meal with you? To showing up at their doorstep with a rose bouquet and a toothy white grin? Perhaps all of those old-timey movies you and Jungkook always watched have given you unrealistic expectations. But can you blame them? 

Even if Tinder wasn’t your first choice, it was certainly the fastest. It takes a second to look at someone’s designated Tinder thumbnail, two to read their description, and three to decide if they’re worth a swipe right. Compare that to actively meeting up with someone, getting their contact information, and then continuing to dance around each other until you finally decide to get dinner together. That’s the sort of thing that could take weeks. Maybe months. And in some cases, years.

Besides, it’s not like you had very many options at your disposal. You don’t trust Maisie to set you up with someone because she’ll probably just choose one of the many boys from her management class and call it a day. Asking someone yourself is absolutely out of the question. And, for some strange, unknown reason, the idea of getting Jungkook to hook you up with one of his friends just doesn’t sit right with you.

So, Tinder it is. And as it turns out, chivalry isn’t dead. It’s just archaic.

An hour into your mindless swiping, you get a message notification. Two hours after that, you’ve got plans with a nice senior boy whom you’ve never met. 

And for the first time in a very long time, there’s something to mark on your calendar for Saturday night.

The little blue block on your Google Calendar tab stares back at you from where your open laptop sits on your desk, the red line that signifies your current time slowly inching towards it as you fumble around in front of your mirror, more dressed up than you have been in weeks. Maisie was right. It’s been so long since you’ve gone out with someone that you’ve completely forgotten what the dress code is for something like this. A dress? Heels? Makeup?

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you will anyway. What if he’s wearing a hoodie and sweats while you look like you’re about to attend the goddamn Academy Awards? Maybe the eyeshadow was a little too much.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks it’s inevitable that you do. The door to your apartment swings open, and you can hear heavy footsteps making their way to your bedroom, that easy gait of his familiar as always.

“Hey, do you think we can just get some take-out and watch a stupid old noir movie, or something? I’ve had a day,” he shouts out, the sigh audible in his voice.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you definitely have when you turn around to see Jungkook standing right outside your bedroom in the floppiest sweater you’ve ever seen and jeans with holes in the knees, mouth agape as he stares straight at you. It’s impossible not to notice the way his eyes are blown wide at the sight of you, at the way they rake up and down your figure, like he can’t even believe what he’s seeing. It’s impossible not to notice how he seems to flounder at the sight of you.

The only thing that breaks the both of you out of your stupors, frozen in place like two criminals caught red-handed, is the sound of his hulking black backpack thudding to the floor. 

“Whoa.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” You ask, voice wobbly. God, why are you so nervous? It’s just Jungkook. 

“Too much for what?” Jungkook blinks, deliberate and slow, as if he’s determined to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him. “Where are you going?”

“I think we’ll have to do a raincheck for the noir movie and takeout,” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips together in fright as you force out a small, tense smile. “I’m… going out. With someone.”

“Like,” Jungkook begins, and even from here you can hear the way he stops himself, hear him breathe out every word, thick on his tongue. “On a date?”

“Yeah.”

It’s a one-syllable word and yet it takes nearly all of your willpower just to say it. Just to confirm what Jungkook’s already thinking. Just to tell him, your best friend, your ride or die, your number one, that you’re going out on a date. 

“Oh.” Jungkook’s voice is lifeless. “Do I know them?”

“No, uh, it’s just some guy I met on Tinder. I don’t know, I just wanted to see what all the hype was about, I guess. And I haven’t really been on a date in a while, so I figured I might just take up the opportunity, so we’re probably just going to go out to a restaurant and maybe go to a club afterwards if we’re still in the mood, and—” You cut yourself off, so nervous that you’ve resorted to your terrible habit of rambling to try and ease the tension. “Why? Do you think it’s too much?”

“You use Tinder?” Jungkook asks instead. It sounds like he’s shocked to hear this. 

“Yeah…” you trail off. “Why?”

Jungkook freezes at the question, but it’s not because it seems like he doesn’t have an answer. It’s because it seems like he does. Only it’s an answer he doesn’t want to share. 

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he eventually settles on, shaking his head. “You, uh, you look good.”

“You think? I feel like it’s a lot. I don’t know how to dress appropriately for stuff like this anymore,” you ask, palms sweaty as you furiously straighten out the skirt of your dress. “Should I change into pants, or anything?”

“No, no, I think that’s fine,” Jungkook says with an honest smile. “You look nice like this.”

“It’s probably been like, a year since you last saw me in a dress,” you comment mindlessly, turning back to face the mirror as you fiddle with your makeup, finger wiping away a bit of smudged lipstick or a stray bit of mascara. “I miss my sweats. Hey, whoa, wait, what are you doing—?”

You whip around to find Jungkook slowly fishing out the camera from his backpack, hand gripping it tightly as he brandishes it in front of you. 

“I, um, I just wanted to see if I could maybe take a photo of you,” Jungkook says, a small, little grin decorating his features. “Since you’re all dressed up.”

“Seriously?” You ask in disbelief. 

Jungkook nods, holding the camera out in front of him. “Just one.”

He looks so small, standing across your bedroom. He looks so small and delicate and intimate, body curled in on itself ever so slightly as he looks at you, the yellow glow of your ceiling light reflected in his hazelnut eyes, drowning beneath his clothes. He looks like he has never seen a moment more perfect, never seen an opportunity as clear, looks like he thinks that if he blinks he’ll miss it. 

Looks as if a photo will be the only way to remember it. 

And you nod. Because he is your best friend, and who are you to deny him of something so simple? Of a press of a button? It doesn’t feel like a project anymore. It just feels like a memory. 

Jungkook brings the camera to his eye, and you smile at him, soft and gentle and warm. He grins back, focusing the camera lens before snapping away. 

You wonder what he sees. 

(You wonder if it’s as beautiful as what you see.)

“Have fun tonight, okay?” Jungkook asks of you as your Google Calendar notification sounds, letting you know you have approximately two minutes before he’s supposed to pick you up outside your apartment.

You nod. “I will. And if I don’t, then I’ll come over afterwards. And we can watch that stupid noir film.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes, a shrug of his shoulders. 

“But I want to. So I will. Okay? I’ll text you,” you promise. “Don’t think I’ll forget about you.”

Jungkook smiles at your little tease, at the way you cup the side of his jaw with your hand as you head towards your front door. 

“Wait, Y/N,” Jungkook sputters out, running after you. He reaches you right as you get to the door, hand grasping the doorknob. You turn to look at him, blinking. “I hope tonight is everything you dreamed of.”

There is something so distinctly sad in his voice. It makes you wonder who has broken his heart. Makes you wonder what you can do to fix it.

“Even if it’s not,” you say to him, taking his hand in your own and squeezing it tight, reminding him that, no matter what, you’re still here. “I know you’ll always be there to take care of me afterwards.”

Your phone buzzes with a message from your date, and you scurry out the door. 

For some reason, there’s a part of you that wishes you never even left. 

The date is okay. Not bad, but nothing to write home about. By the time you finished eating, it was obvious neither of you had any interest in continuing the night elsewhere, whether it be a club or a karaoke bar. He pays for your meal despite your insistence that you can handle the check perfectly fine on your own, thanks you for a nice night, and drops you right back at your apartment. And so goes your one and only Tinder experience, blowing away like a leaf in the wind. 

You look down at your phone. It isn’t even nine o’clock yet. 

[November 7th, 8:48PM]

You: you still game for that movie?

[November 7th, 8:50PM]

Jungkook: you finished your date already?

You: is that a yes or a no

Jungkook: my door is always open, you know that

You: you’re gonna get robbed one day and it’s gonna be by me You: i’m coming over

The walk from your apartment to Jungkook’s is six minutes and thirty seconds on a good day, and seven minutes and fifteen seconds on a bad day, which is usually dependent on if the traffic light over the main road has decided to be extra slow or not. You could walk the damn route in your sleep if you really wanted, having done it so many times in the last year and a half, ever since he moved out of on-campus housing and into his own place.

Tonight, it takes you nearly eight minutes to get to his apartment, but you mostly chalk that up to the heels you’re wearing. If you cared any less about your dignity, you’d probably take them off and walk barefoot like a defeated heroine in a romance movie, shoes dangling from your fingers as they hang low by your side. 

But you aren’t defeated. You didn’t have the world’s most spectacular date, but the night isn’t over just yet. 

Jungkook’s waiting at his front door by the time you arrive. 

“Eight minutes, huh? You’re getting old,” he asks snidely, looking down at the invisible watch on his wrist. 

“Your counting is just off,” you retort easily, falling into that same friendly rhythm, that familiar little beat that the two of you share. You push past him and into his apartment, instantly feeling more at home, shoulders sinking and heartbeat soothing as you soak in the scent of his room, of his home, of him. 

“How’d it go?” Jungkook asks, eyes hopeful as they watch you tug off your heels. They were hardly three inches tall and yet you still want nothing to do with them. 

You shrug. “Eh. It was okay.”

“Just okay?” Jungkook asks, sounding seriously upset for you. Upset that you didn’t have a good night even after you promised him that you would. Upset that it didn’t turn out to be everything you wanted. 

“I don’t know,” you admit, looking over at him, dejected. “It just—I just had this feeling that it wasn’t going to work out.”

Jungkook scowls to himself, eyebrows furrowing like he’s trying to figure out what exactly you mean by that. And the truth is, you’re not sure either. The date was fine, and he was nice, but even when you first met it felt like you weren’t going to get what you wanted from him. Like you were just going on the date to go on the date. Like you already knew that it would mean nothing. 

Jungkook was going to be waiting for you at the end of the night whether it went amazingly well or terribly bad. And knowing that, strangely enough, almost made you want the date to be horrible. Like it would make seeing Jungkook afterwards that much sweeter. 

“Oh,” Jungkook says lamely. “Well, I’m sorry. It seemed like you were really looking forward to it.”

“It’s alright,” you assure him. “Can we just watch this movie now and make fun of how sexist it is? Please?”

To that, Jungkook easily agrees. As he’s queueing up the movie, you raid his closet for a hoodie and sweatpants, desperate to strip yourself of your dress and tights and cozy up in clothes that are much more appropriate for your comfort level. At this point in your friendship, Jungkook doesn’t even question it when he sees you march into his room, fishing through his closet and drawers for your favorite matching set of his, this grey pair that he’s worn so much it still smells like him even after it’s come right out of the wash. 

He only stares back in awe when he sees you emerge from his bedroom wearing them. 

“Ready?” You ask, breaking him from his resolve.

Jungkook blinks wildly from where he’s seated on his dinky old couch, as if to clear his vision. “What? Oh, yeah, I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Then hurry it up, Mister,” you demand, sitting down next to him and curling into his body. It’s instinctual, at this point, wanting to be close to him. To feel the warmth of his body radiate upon your own. To feel his chest beneath the palm of your hands, his arm wrapped around your side. “All good?” You ask, looking up at him. 

Jungkook looks down at you, and you swear, you’ve never seen him more at home. “Always, when I’m with you.”

The movie is predictably good and predictably sexist, but your favorite part by far is when Jungkook reaches around on the coffee table in front of you for his camera, holding it up to his eye and snatching a picture of the television, the film grainy like an old polaroid, faded like an antique photograph. He clicks away at the scene in front of him before turning on you, the lens so close to your face you’re almost certain all he’ll manage to capture is your nose. You laugh, pushing yourself away from him as he snaps, and snaps, and snaps, image after image after image, until his camera battery has died and there’s no more room left on his card. 

“Guess I’ll have to charge this thing, then,” Jungkook sighs as he declares his camera dead, screen black. 

“You aren’t going to include any of those, are you?” You ask, an eyebrow raised. 

Jungkook shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t you have enough?” You deadpan, thinking back to the hundreds of photos Jungkook must have taken of you over the past week, and even more that you don’t know about. There’s certainly no shortage of them in his current camera inventory. That’s for sure. 

“Never,” Jungkook says wickedly. He stretches out an open arm, and you don’t have to think twice about falling into it, letting him wrap you up in his hold, curling into his body. 

The black television screen crackles before you, DVD player waiting for Jungkook to turn it off. There’s no need for either of you to look up at each other. Not when you’re strung together like this. Not when you already know exactly where he is. 

“It’s due on Monday, right?” You inquire softly, fatigue slowly overtaking you. 

“Yeah. I’m almost finished, just have to do some curating and editing.”

“I want to see it.”

“What? My project?”

“What else?”

“It’s just a project, it’s not that exciting.”

You pull away from him at that, looking up at him with furrowed brows and scrunched-up nose. “What do you mean ‘it’s not that exciting’? It’s your photography project. You’ve spent a whole week working on it.”

“Yeah, but it’s just you, you know?” Jungkook objects. “Like, you know what you look like. It’s just going to be a bunch of photos of you, like I said it’d be.”

“That’s exactly why I want to see it,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You took pictures of me for a whole week. Don’t you want to share them with me?”

“If you really want some of the photos, I’ll send you some, but you don’t need to see the whole portfolio, you know? It’s just for my professor,” Jungkook says stiffly, surprisingly resistant. What’s the big deal? It’s not like there will suddenly be new information about you that you didn’t know before. You want to see what Jungkook has been working tirelessly on this entire week. Where’s the harm in that?

“Why are you getting so hung up on this? It’s just photos,” you say with a frown. 

“Why are you getting so hung up on this?” Jungkook challenges back. 

You sigh, sinking back into him, defeated. Even a little disagreement like that is enough to knock the wind out of the both of you, so you decide not to push it much further. 

“Do you promise to show me eventually?” You ask, hopeful.

Jungkook pauses for a moment, and you almost expect him to say no, considering how protective of his work he’s being. “One day,” he declares. “One day, I will.”

And that’s good enough for you. 

You lose track of how much time passes after that, feeling your eyelids getting heavy as the warmth of his body envelopes you, drowsiness settling in. There’s just something about this moment, right here, right now, that makes you want to fall asleep.

You’re on the verge of slumber when Jungkook’s voice breaks through.

“Why didn’t you think your date would work out?”

“I don’t know,” you respond sleepily, barely even opening your eyes. “It just felt wrong.”

“How do you know what feels right?”

Good question. Perhaps if you had the energy, you’d answer it. But right now, all you can think about is how cozy you feel in Jungkook’s hoodie and sweatpants, how the scent of him surrounds you, that indescribable, boyish aroma that can’t be replicated. Right now, all you can think about is how easily your body molds into his, like two pieces of a puzzle meant to fit together. Right now, all you can think about is him. 

The worst part about each and every week is when it ends. Because the end of one week signifies the beginning of the next, and when you’re in university, the beginning of the next week means a whole new batch of assignments that you have to complete and a whole new batch of due dates to meet. 

So, yeah. The weeks have been blurring together for you lately. But what else could you expect?

Sunday evening, as per usual, finds you right back where you always are: Jungkook’s apartment. 

The two of you have been regularly getting together on Sundays to study, ever since you both realized you work significantly harder when motivated by the other, determined to finish all of your work on time so you can spend the rest of the night fooling around by mixing Monster with as many unhealthy drinks that you can possibly think of. And it’s been working out well for the both of you so far. Jungkook powers through his coding assignments and you whiz through your readings, intent on keeping up to date with your tasks so they don’t all come crashing down on you at the end of the semester. 

Studying with Jungkook has always been easy, largely due to the fact that it’s the one allotted time during your friendship where the both of you deem it best to not speak to each other for the sake of your work. The moment one of you opens your mouth it’s over, so you sit on opposite ends of the room and pretend that the other person isn’t even there. 

Jungkook told you earlier today that he had already finished his photography portfolio, so there would unfortunately be no sneaky glances over his shoulder to see if you can catch a glimpse of one of the pictures. Which is fine by you, you’re just a little embarrassed that Jungkook had told you this outright. Not that you were planning to do exactly that, but you were planning to do exactly that. 

Part of you. more than anything, wants to know why Jungkook won’t just show you himself. Why he’s being so secretive, so protective of his photography project when you both know already exactly what’s in it. For God’s sake, he just spent the entire week taking photos of you non-stop. It’s like not as if any part of this is a mystery to either of you. What more could he have done?

Whatever. You aren’t going to force it if he doesn’t want you to. You suppose that maybe one day, far into the future, he’ll finally decide that the time is right. 

“I’m so fucking tired,” Jungkook declares lifelessly as he gets up from where he’s sitting on your bed, dead inside. “I need a break.”

“Are you going to the kitchen? Can you make me some tea, please?” You ask him, looking up from the laptop on your desk. 

Jungkook nods wordlessly before disappearing out of the room. 

You and Jungkook’s best study practice to maximize productivity is the taking of each other’s cell phones so that the other cannot be tempted to look at it. It’s worked plenty of times before and will probably work plenty of times again, because as they say, out of sight, out of mind. 

Unfortunately, it’s hard to pretend that your phone is out of sight when it’s been buzzing on your bedside table for the past five minutes, and your fingers have been itching to get over there and answer your damn notifications. So, while Jungkook is out of the room, you decide to cheat a little by dashing over there just to see what the heck is going on in the rest of the world. 

As it turns out, nothing much. Just Maisie texting you as she binges yet another television show, giving spoiler-free updates anytime anything remotely dramatic happens. You have a couple of new emails as well. 

The thing that actually catches your attention the most, is Jungkook’s laptop screen. 

There’s just a Word document open on it, but a Word document is a far cry from his usual coding program or Photoshop. Because you can’t help yourself, you peer over to see what he’s written. 

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Hard to say that I have. I don’t think I learned something about myself so much as I confirmed what I already knew, cementing it as a real thought in my brain, rather than just a daydream. Nothing changed in the way that my best friend and I interacted, and I can almost confirm that nothing changed in the way that she feels about me, just as nothing changed in the way I feel about her. I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her. 

What?

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Not as a reference but to remind myself of this very moment in my life—a single week over the course of my life that I felt was worth saving. I imagine that there will come a time, far in the future, where my best friend and I have separated a little bit, found our own lives and created our own families with our own people. And when that happens, I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 

This feels personal. Maybe you should stop reading. But there’s just one more question left on the page… 

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. If it meant getting to spend more time with her, take more photos of her, see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 

“Y/N?”

You hadn’t even heard the kettle whistling. 

“Jungkook,” you say, breathless, caught red-handed. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, placing your steaming cup of tea down on the desk as he stares back at you in horror, in surprise, in worry, in something. Something that gives you this imminent sense of impending doom. 

“Uh—”

“Were you reading my computer screen?”

It’s not like you could say you were doing anything else. 

“I couldn’t help myself, I came over here to check my phone since it’s been buzzing like crazy and your computer was right there and I just…” you sputter out, thoughts swirling inside your head. 

(I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 

If it meant getting to see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 

I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her.)

“What do you mean, how you feel about me?” You ask, because you can’t help yourself. Because the sound of his voices echoes in your head like the beat of a drum, over and over and over. Because you’re staring back at him and even if he just caught you snooping through his computer you can never be worried when it comes to him. Because everything he has ever done puts you at ease. 

“Y/N, that is private, why would you read something like that?” He asks, each word a sucker punch into your heart. 

“Because I just had to know, okay?” You shout back. “I had to know what you were hiding from me.”

“So you decided to snoop through my computer to see if you could figure it out yourself?” He demands, storming over to you. 

“So you are hiding something?”

“That’s not the point, the point is that—”

“What are you not telling me, Jungkook?” You cry out, watching as he approaches you, dark eyes piercing your gaze. “Why won’t you show me your goddamn portfolio? If there’s really nothing to be afraid of, why are you keeping it from me? I’m your best friend, I’m the fucking subject of your project? Don’t I deserve to see it? Why won’t you show me?”

“Because then you’d know!” Jungkook shouts back, leaving deafening silence in his wake. You look up at him, blinking. In front of you, Jungkook is out of breath, chest heaving. 

He looks so strained. So tired. Like he’s been carrying around this secret for months now, maybe even years, and this is the final straw. This is what has sent the both of you crashing down upon each other. This stupid fucking project. You’ve known Jungkook ever since the beginning of your freshman year, and never before have you seen him so hopeless. 

“Jungkook—?”

“You’d know, goddamnit,” Jungkook says, hand coming up to rub at his forehead, dragging down his cheek. “And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.”

“Know what? What would I know?” 

Jungkook closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. Opens them again. “That I’m in love with you.”

The words drift in between the two of you, hovering in the air like feathers. You see them, clear as day, in front of you, hear them echoing in your head, over and over and over again. Feel the way your blood is pumping, the way your heart is beating. 

“You’re in love with me?” You ask him. 

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Jungkook admits. “Or at all, really. But I have been, for a while now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid that I’d lose you.”

You chuckle, a small, little thing from the back of your throat. “You must have known I’d never let that happen, hmm?”

Jungkook smiles softly. “I was scared. Can you blame me? You’re my best friend.”

“And you are mine,” you remind him. 

“It’s just—” Jungkook begins, like the gates of a dam are opening up. “We’d known each other for so long, and we have such a good thing going as is, always texting and calling and hanging out together, studying together on Sunday nights and seeing each other during the week, and I didn’t want to ruin anything. And then my professor assigned this project, and the only person I could think of to take photos was you, but I didn’t want to ask that of you in case you thought it was weird, but you suggested it anyway so I said yes, but I knew. I knew then that the moment I took one goddamn photo of you it would be obvious, and that if you ever saw you would just know. Stuff like that is easy to pick up in pictures, because a camera is like, tunnel vision for whatever it is you want to focus on most, and that’s you, that’s always been you, so I—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt, reaching out to him, pressing a soft hand to his cheek. “Just, shut up, okay?”

And then you cup his head in both of your hands, and press a kiss to his lips. A small one, if nothing else, but a kiss nonetheless. You press your lips against his own and immediately you feel the sparks rush through you, this flash of heat that settles into something softer, something sweeter. It ignites and soothes you all at once, like a stray lightning bolt out on the open ocean. Like a single clap of thunder and the pitter patter of rain. 

You press a kiss to his lips and when you pull away, Jungkook’s eyes are closed, lips parted ever so slightly. And for a moment there, you almost think you did the wrong thing. 

But barely a second more passes before he’s scooping you up in his arms and pulling you in close to him, his lips finding yours like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. He holds you tight, hands pressed against the small of your back as he kisses you, warm and fiery and full, as if he can’t get enough, as if this is his only chance. You gasp into it before relaxing in his hold, cold hands on his warm cheeks, body melting at the feeling of him, of him all over you, of his hands and his mouth and his chest, this perfect, solid figure. 

He kisses you and it sends heat shooting through your body, filling you up from the inside out, like your heart has burst and filled your bloodstream with fire, with sparks of warmth that tingle all over. He kisses you, and everywhere his hands press is another sizzle to your skin, an electric shock that makes you giggle into his mouth. 

He kisses you and it feels like a storm has settled, feels like gentle rain after a hurricane, feels like waves crashing against the shore. He kisses you and it is the only thing you can think about. 

By the time you part once more, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so blissed out. 

“See?” You point out softly. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

Jungkook looks positively dazed. “I think I need to lie down.”

“Ooh, was I that good?” You tease.

“I’m dreaming.” He shakes his head. “I’m definitely fucking dreaming.”

Jungkook sinks onto your bed, hitting the mattress with a thud. He stares mindlessly in front of him, like his brain needs time to process. 

You smile to yourself. He can have all the time in the world. 

“Is this real?” He mumbles when you sit down next to him, press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Are you real?”

“Just like you,” you promise him. “I didn’t know this is what we had been missing, all this time.”

“It wasn’t missing,” Jungkook assures you. “It was just hidden.”

“I love you,” you whisper, watching him swallow the words like a glass of wine. “I think I always have. You just needed to say it first.”

“Oblivious as always.” Jungkook grins, smiling against your lips. “But I’m glad. If this is what it would take, then I’m glad.”

“You wouldn’t change anything?” You ask him, eyes wide and curious. 

It’s hard to know how long you and Jungkook have been secretly pining over each other. Hard to know how long Jungkook has known that he’s loved you, how long it’s been since you started to feel the same, even if subconsciously. It’s hard to know how long you would have kept going if not for this project. It might have been months. Years. Years that Jungkook was willing to spend holding back, if only it meant keeping you by his side. 

“No,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest answer in the world. “I have you now. Why would I?”

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Previously, I had responded to this question by saying that I hadn’t learned anything, and felt that nothing changed in my life. Then, some things happened. And after those things, I learned that I am the luckiest man alive. To know my best friend is one thing. To love her is a privilege. To have her love me back is nothing less than a miracle.

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Every day for the rest of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever been as thankful to receive a homework assignment as I am, right now. I owe everything to this project. It is the reason I have her. 

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. I want to take photos of her for the rest of my life. I want to save every memory we ever share together. So that far into the future, we can look back on them together and say, “Remember that?”

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

[snow-in-the-desert]

Dramione Recommendations

Ok so, 2020 has been A LOT but on a personal note one of the most surprising things to happen was me discovering Dramione fanfiction and becoming unashamedly obsessed with it. I really didn’t see that coming but I’m here now and I’m here to stay. 

I think I started reading in the Dramione fandom around mid July last year?? (In all honesty I’ve lost any true sense of time’s progression at this point so I could be well off the mark with that) And I’ve decided to compile a list of all my favourite fics I’ve read so far. Why? I really just want to gush over all the amazing writers I have found through this fandom because y’all deserve it. 

Side note: If any of the authors actually sees this post just dm so I can buy you coffee or post you writing supplies or something idk I feel like that’s the least I can do for all your amazing work x

Remain Nameless by @heyjude19-writing

Ok I have to start with RN because this fic is pretty much the sole reason I decided to create an account with A03 or a tumblr or just decided to get involved with this fandom at all. 

I headcannon this story hard. But I think even if you aren’t a fan of Dramione you should just read this because it is so unbelievably good and well written and poignant and Draco’s sarcastic personality in this is truly a thing of beauty in this - I relate to his inner monologue’s on a deep personal level. 

I could rave about this story any time, any day of the week, just ask me. In fact, maybe I’ll just start a HeyJude19 fan club to fulfill that urge.

There are so many elements that I love but for the sake of brevity, RN is a beautifully told story of Draco and Hermione finding love and healing in a post-war HP setting. Heyjude19 had the very special ability of making me want to simulatenously laugh, cry and swoon with the power of her words. Just stop what you are doing and go read it now if you havent already, ok?  

I also really enjoyed reading Bells on a Hill, Beers, Potions and Unwise Notions and A Shift in Focus, if you are looking for smaller fics, definitely give these a go. They are all funny and heartfelt stoires that will make your tippy toes wriggle with glee. 

The Rights and Wrongs Series by @lovesbitca8

The Right Thing To Do, All The Wrong Things and The Auction are the holy trinity of Dramione writing. I have christened it thus, so mote it be. And frankly I’m not interested in any other opinion than that one, thank you very much!

After reading this series I don’t think I’ll be able to look back on the orginal HP books without thinking of Hermione’s and Draco’s memories of their time at Hogwarts in these fics as anything other than strictly cannon. 

So many things to love about this series but I think one of the major highlights was Hermione and Draco’s use of occlumency. LoveBitca8 created such beautiful visuals with how occlumency works as a magical practice and seeing Draco and Hermione so devoted to eachother to the point of safeguarding their inner most feelings to protect eachother was unbelievably romantic and poetic. 

Also the smut is divine ;)

Manacled by @senlinyu​

My heart will never be the same after reading this story. Like I actually can’t think about this fic without getting a lump at the back of my throat. I have never felt so emotionally ruined after reading anything, compared to the likes of this fic. Just please, please read it. To badly quote HP, reading Manacled will make you suffer but you’re going to be happy about it.

The flashbacks are a rollercoaster in of themselves but the way Hermione inadvertently refers to them when she is still in a state of memory loss was so heartbreaking to read. My heart still aches for them both. Also its a truly satisfying to see Draco and Hermione written in a way were they are both so fiercly protective of one another. They make my insides go soft. 

I also really enjoyed Snow Fall, Now Is A Gift and All You Want by the author but to be honest anything written by Senlinyu is always thoroughly enjoyable and worth a look. 

The Erised Effect by @adaprix​

Ada is QUEEN of dramione smut but ‘The Erised Effect’ is top tier. Its equal parts funny, romantic, sentimental and oh so sexy. Ada really knows how to build and build on sexual tension and doesn’t disappoint on the final delivery. I’m a big admirer of her writing style and just veraciously read whatever she posts but ‘The Erised Effect’ is just golden. A must read. (Also Pansy’s sexual fantasy in this story is a visual I don’t think I’ll ever be able to remove from my brain so thanks for that Ada)

Also quick side note: Adaprix’ stories were the first I read when I was looking into this fandom and it was enough to get me hooked on the pairing from the get go so I have that to thank Ada for too. I remember devouring all the stories she had posted to A03 and when I was done I was like... now what am I supposed to do with my life?? And that’s basically when I began to look deeper into the fandom and thus the course of my life in 2020 changed for the better. 

Some other stories I love by her are Break for Me, All My Sins, The Big 4-0, The Fucklust Series and The Flat in Bath. 

Clean by @olivieblake​

This 6th Year AU where Draco and Hermione work together on a class assignment and end up falling in love had me feeling all kinds of ways when I read it. I almost don’t know where to start but I think one of the stand out things for me was how immersed I felt in reading it. 

Hogwarts is captured really well, you get a good sense of class atmospheres, character nuances and behind the scenes of events that happen in HBP but from a Draco and Hermione’s perspectives. It’s well executed and intricate tapestry of a fic. With an excellent plot twist ending! 

Also Hermione and Draco’s relationship in this is equal parts fluffy and smutty and it just ticks all the right boxes that you want to see for those characters ;)

Breath Mints / Battle Scars by @onyx-and-elm​

The angst in this one is just *chef’s kiss*

God I love this fic. The way Draco is portrayed is very true to his defensive and tetchy character in the original books but he is also given so much more depth. The way his diary entries are written are just so well executed. It’s a true testament to the author’s creative writing skill. And I LOVE how even though Draco is clearly in such a messed up place, he still has a basic level of self respect and dignity that he won’t tolerate being used or undervalued in his relationship with Hermione. 

Yep, I really love Draco’s characterisation in this one if you can’t tell.  But Hermione is also well written too. Her stuggles and trauma of returning to Hogwarts after war is described in a believable and grounded way. And my heart definitely ached for them both. I just wanted to wrap the pair of them in a big fuzzy blanket and tell them that everything will be alright. 

WANDS OUT! by @persephonestone​

This murder mystery / Dramione / Theo x Harry / AU crossover is everything I didn’t know I wanted until I read it. I felt like I was picked up and plonked right into an alternative dimension where all the characters of HP are just living it up in an Agatha Christie novel. 

It’s a funny and clever story that I found refreshing to read amongst all the other fanfics that are usually cemented in the HP timeline or universe. Theodore Nott in this fic is perfection he should be written like this in every fic from now on in my opinion. I couldn’t stop giggling any time he had a scene in the story.

And the ‘only one bed’ trope in this fic is 10/10. I don’t want to give spoilers but ohmygod. It hits all the right notes. 

The One With Technical Difficulties by cassielassie 

Cassielassie has an excellent three part series of Dramone called ‘The One with...” but I have to give special credit to this story in particular for one main reason. ELEVATOR TROPES. I can’t get enough of em. I think I have my early childhood viewings of NCIS to thank for my obsession with elevator tropes they just do something to me that simply cannot be explained with mere words. The palpable sexual tension of being in a broken down elevator with an ‘enemies to lovers’ pairing, a heated arguement breaks out followed by a discovery of mutual feelings and a romantic embrace...

Eugh. It gets me everytime. And this fic is no exception. I loved it for all the reasons I’ve already stated above but also for the attention to detail in Draco and Hermione’s careers makes this one particularly immersive. The dynamics between them established in this one-shot are convincingly portrayed and the chemistry between them is so undeniably hot. 

The Light is No Mystery by @masterofinfinities​

Yooo if you want to read a dramione fic that is a deep dive into Pureblood culture and Post-War recovery but is also a perfect allegory for discrimination and today’s political landscape of moral grandstanding for votes then look no further than this one. 

This story has a bit of everything. Intrigue, mystery, ptsd and recovery, enemies to lovers / secret relationship, government conspiracy and humour, to name a few. I eargerly await every update to this story and am anxious to know how it ends!

The Eagle’s Nest by HeartOfAspen 

Finally! A fic that gives me the Ravenclaw representation I crave. I think I could recommend this fic on the lore depicted of Ravenclaw house alone. ‘The Stacks’ and Rowena Ravenclaw’s own ‘come and go room’ are just such cool details that I could see being real in the HP universe. 

This fic is so cosy and makes me feel like I’m just popping back into Hogwarts for another year. You get to see all the usuals like prof. Mcgongall, Nearly headless Nick, PEEVES, Hagrid, as well as learn more about minor characters from the other school houses. The story follows Hermione going to her day to day classes and there are interesting concepts about magic and alchemy that are explored. 

Draco and Hermione’s relationship in this one is of course very fluffy and heartfelt. But it’s the attention to detail that really makes this fic outstanding and the experience of reading it feels fleshed out and true to HP universe.

A shorter fic by HeartofAspen that I recommend is one called Set in Stone, it has an adventurous, Indianna Jones vibe to it, that I am so down for. 

Teachable Moments by @purplesugarquills

In this fic Hermione is an innocent little virgin determined to learn everything about sex. And Draco Malfoy is her tutor. If that isn’t enough to get you on board then I don’t know what is. Both Heartfelt and Steamy. PurpleSugarQuills writes smut so well but it’s the progression of their growing attachment and the nervous treading of new uncharted waters of romantic relationships for both of them that just adds a whole other level of feels to the story. Also chapter 9 is like reading poetry - its so good. Eugh just give it a read if you haven’t already.

Les Pèlerins by @pacific-rimbaud

This story is high art. It’s transcendent. Reading this story feels like the emotional equivalent of standing around a hundred glowing fairy lights, sipping hot cocoa and being wrapped in the loving embrace of a s/o. I can’t speak my praises highly enough or even become passably coherent in my words when I try to articulate a review. 

From the very first paragraph I felt like I was just whisked away on a Parisian holiday and I’ve never even bloody been to Paris but damn it if this story didn’t make me feel like I was there. The writing style is just so tactile and intense it’s like I could feel the cold winter air brush against me as I read it. Eugh I just completely fell in love with the story and the writer. 

New Year’s resolution. Read everything PacificRimbaud has ever posted online. 

[mintpurrfect]

⩇:⩇⩇ — take a break

⤿synopsys﹕ jake kim wants your attention, but you're busy, so he patiently waits for you to be done so that you guys can cuddle.

⤿character﹕jake kim x gn!reader

⤿genre﹕ fluff (bf jakey comforts and reassures you<3)

⤿note﹕Idk what got into me but I decided to write this short fic. This isn't proofread so I apologize for any mistakes. It took me a lot of mental strength to post this lol

"Babe... Baby... Hey... Baby, hey... Notice meee"

A sigh escaped your lips for the umpteenth time as you rubbed your temple in slight annoyance "What do you want?"

"You."

You glanced beside you and saw your boyfriend pouting and looking at you with puppy eyes. You rolled your eyes and continued to write in your notebook "I'm doing something."

"But babyyy~ I want your attention, wait no, I need it. So please, cuddle with me?"

He looked so cute to the point that made you want to stop doing your homework and give in right then and there if it weren't for all of them being due the next day.

"I'm sorry, I can't right now. I'm busy with these, can it wait 'til later?" You tried not to look at him and focus on your work but this motherfucker is making it hard for you. He just couldn't wait until you're done with it. Jake ignored what you said and continues to be a menace.

"You've been saying that for the past hour. You really should take a break, you've been doing a lot of assignments and projects for nearly three hours now."

"I'm almost done with them." You said. Jake sighed and silently placed his chin on your shoulder as he hugged your waist from the side.

....

15 minutes have passed and you're finally done with all of your homework. You closed your notebook and stretched your arms, groaning from exhaustion.

"You're finally done?" Jake asked as he entered your bedroom.

"Yeah." You stood up from the chair and yawned. Jake walked over to you with a small smile.

"So we can cuddle now?" He asked and outstretched his arms towards you. You didn't decline his invitation and ambled towards him. He chuckled and lead you towards the bed.

You both laid down on the bed facing each other. You hugged his waist and wrapped one leg to his hip whilst he placed one arm under your head for you to use as a pillow and using his other arm to hug you.

The two of you cuddled without talking for a minute until he decided to break the silence "Baby?" He whispered softly as his hand started stroking your hair.

You hummed in response, signalling him to continue "You know, you don't have to keep on pushing yourself on doing something. I know you want to do your best on the things you do but you should take a break once in a while."

You didn't respond as you think of what he said. He took your silence as a sign to continue "Taking a break will help you clear your mind so you know what to do next."

"I know that but... I don't want to fail and fall behind others..." You mumbled and buried your face on his chest.

"It's just frustrating seeing how other people can do things easily whilst I try so hard to do them but I still end up making a lot of mistakes." You said and unconsciously grip his shirt which didn't go unnoticed by him. He kissed the crown of your head.

"Hey, don't be sad, making mistakes are normal, you shouldn't be hung up on them, instead, learn from them and see what you can do to do better. If you feel frustrated and don't know what to do, stop and take a break. It's alright to do so, it will help you recover strength that you will need to continue."

You slightly smiled and hugged him tighter "Thank you, I'll keep that in mind."

"You better. Also, keep in mind that I'll always here for you, okay? You can come to me if you need someone. I'll always be here right by your side no matter what because I love you."

You looked up at him and pecked his lips "I love you too but why are you being all cheesy today?" You said and let out a small laugh. Jake smiled and rests his forehead against yours.

You stared into his eyes and said, "On a serious note, I'm always here for you too so please don't keep everything bottled up to yourself." He kissed your lips and grinned at you.

"Roger that."

!!reminder!!: you're enough and don't let other people make you think otherwise<333

[meat--grindr]

Ohh your writing is wonderful... I’ve actually never requested before so I hope get this right but: could I request Billy Lenz x Gender Neutral Reader (AFAB if it’s brought up) with Billy sucking on his partner’s fingers and discovering they are really, /really/ into it but also super embarrassed about it? Bastard-ness ensues. Hope this request is ok!

Okay? This is waaay more than okay! I’ve been so excited about this prompt since I received it! I’m so sorry for not getting to it earlier. I hope like six months later is better than never though! I’m also super excited to be your first request! I hope this lives up to your expectations, whatever they may have been!

Just a few general warnings beforehand: Billy is really rough with the reader he uses some extremely degrading language as per the canon (I’ve excluded the term ‘piggy,’ though, because I am NOT A FAN™ of that aspect of his dirty talk.) I want to specifically call to attention the liberal use of the terms ‘pussy’ and ‘cunt.’ The reader is never gendered with personal pronouns, but those words are used in reference to them and their anatomy several times. I am of the opinion that Mr. Lenz would use those terms regardless of what hole he’s using, but if they make you uncomfortable, maybe give this one a miss? Furthermore, I would like to mention that Billy is not a mentally well man (obviously) who has had a rather traumatic past with abuse, both of these are discussed within this fic, so please take care of yourselves and read this work responsibly if you want to read it at all. I don’t want anyone to be hurt by my writing because I didn’t warn them properly.

Also, this is my first time writing for Billy, so please forgive me if it takes a little while for me to get completely used to him. He’s a…unique fella, let’s say.

Editing Ripper’s Note: I was just about to post this when I realized I completely misread the prompt! I read it as the reader is really into sucking on Billy’s fingers, not the other way ‘round! I’ve been looking at this prompt, literally since December and still never caught on. I feel like a total idiot. I’m really sorry about that. I’ve decided to post this anyway because A) the kink is still there in the fic, just not exactly as requested, and B) I had already finished it by the time I noticed my mistake. So much time has passed and if the original requester is still keeping tabs on this blog, I don’t want to make them wait any longer. That being said, if you’d like me to write your request properly, please send me a message and I will do my best!

Mind Your Teeth – Billy Lenz (Gender Neutral* Reader) - NSFW

· Slick with sweat, your chest slides against the surface of your desk with each cruel snap of Billy’s hips. You can feel the laboured heaving of his chest against your back as he struggles for breath. It leaves his lips in ragged, staggering puffs, heavy and hot against your shoulder blade, accompanied every so often by the slick warmth of his saliva as it drips down onto your bare skin.

· Despite his gawky build, he manages to loom over you, folding you nearly in half against the desk. He’s made himself rather comfortable, sprawled over top of you. His chest presses against your back, boney ribs grinding against the knobs of your spine through the stiff, itchy fibers of his jumper. It’s sticking to your skin, soaked through in spots with sweat—yours and his—and you can feel it peeling up from your flesh with every movement he makes.

· He’s got you pinned, holding you down against the smooth wooden surface with little more than his weight. He’s surprisingly heavy, and though he doesn’t look it, Billy is a strong man—he’s more than capable both of lifting you off of the floor and pinning you down to it. He’s strong and his hands are by no means an exception to that rule. Though they may be long and thin, and they tremble whenever they hold you, his grip is nearly unbreakable. His clumsy fingers circle your wrists like iron fetters, dirty fingernails digging into the flesh of your forearms and cutting little crescents into the skin—just deep enough to sting. You can barely move beneath him—can barely breathe—and he knows this. He has you exactly where he wants you and you’re not going anywhere until he decides to let you.

· Another bruising thrust pitches you forward, and your knees bang against the desk drawers. You cry out, though whether it was for the dull ache in your legs or the sudden stab of pleasure between them, even you couldn’t say for certain. Though if there is any concern at all in Billy for your wellbeing, he’s certainly keeping it to himself. Your outburst only seems to egg him on, as his pace begins to take on a more frantic edge.

· His thrusts are shallow as he rocks into you—it’s as though he can’t bare to withdraw from the tight heat of your body for long. Dimly, through the fog of pleasure, you struggle to feel surprised. It’s all about instant gratification with Billy. Always has been—why should he tease himself or draw things out when he could just pry open your willing mouth and drag his cock against your tongue until he cums down your throat? Still, there is a force behind those thrusts—one which throws you up against the lip of the desk hard enough that you’re sure there will be a solid line of bruising along your midsection before the night is through. Every push of those hips shoves you forward a little more, until your head is nearly knocking against the wall and your toes barely touch the ground.

· Your cheek slides against a slick patch of wood and you realize you’ve been drooling across the desktop. The little puddle at the corner of your lips only grows in size as a particularly deep thrust from Billy wrings another string of wrecked whimpers from your throat. You wish you could pull away from the puddle—longing to drag the back of your hand across your cheek and wipe away the slickness, but there’s little you can do about it with Billy still holding your arms hostage. But at the same time, something about it thrills you—to be ruined like this—held still, unable to so anything but whimper, and drool, and take what you’re given. It’s…liberating.

· “C’mon, little bitch! Take my fat cock! You can t-t-take it better than that! Take it! Take-Take-Take it good for B-B-Billy!” He babbles into your shoulder, chapped lips scraping against your shoulder as he mouths at your flushed skin. His tongue flickers out, dragging a wet stripe against your skin, scorching hot, then suddenly too cool as it begins to dry in the open air.

· “Such a pretty pusssssy,” He slurs, “Pretty, pretty pusssssy. Gonna fill it up—gonna fill it with my fat ffffffucking cock!”

· You feel him jerk behind you, his muscles going taught as a violent spasm rolls through his body. When he speaks again, the voice that comes is not his own—it’s deeper, rumbling down in his chest, belonging to a man much larger than he, “Why I outta beat that boy! Beat him up good! Beat Billy bad! Beat him good! Beat him up, up, up!”

· His hips still and your heart leaps up into your throat, your pulse pounding hard in the tight space. This can’t be good. You squirm beneath him, trying and failing to turn your head. Your eyes roll wild in their sockets, desperate to get a good look at Billy, but he remains a shadow at the edge of your vision. You remember this voice. He had so many it was difficult to keep track of them sometimes—he’d mimic almost anything he heard; the children from down the road calling to one another while they played, the weatherman making predictions on the radio, even the neighbour’s cat. It was easy to forget which voices and phrases came from where once he’d picked them up and used them enough. But this is one that predates you, and you recognize it with a chilling clarity—the father’s voice: always angry, often violent.

· It frightens you when Billy uses it, though not because of the threat Billy poses to you. Of course, you know to tread carefully when he's in one of his moods—you’ve seen first hand the destruction wrought when his directionless frustration is given direction. But, you know this voice is a far more likely indicator that Billy is an imminent threat to himself. You’ve seen him pacing the floor like a caged animal, trembling hands beating about his head, tearing at his clothes and hair as he works through the frenzy, all the while babbling to himself in that deep, rumbling voice: “Rotten boy! Teach you a fucking lesson! Beat Billy! Bad Billy! Bad, Bad, Bad!” He's blackened his eyes, split his lips and knuckles, shattered countless plates and cut his hands on the shards. He loses himself in that voice, and that scares you.

· ‘Losing himself,’ that’s what you’ve come to call these episodes—those moments when his excitement and boundless energy curdle, souring into anxiety and agitation so quickly it makes you head spin. And in this moment, he’s displaying all the tell-tale sighs you’ve come to recognize—the full-body tremors, the angry voices, self-directed violence—mere threats or otherwise…

· No, this is not good. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him do this, and you’re sure it would not be the last, but he’s never done it while you were…playing before. And that worries you. You’re both vulnerable, half-undressed and bent over a desk. Even worse, he was behind you. You’d learned very quickly never to let him out of your sight when he got like this. He was unpredictable—prone to lashing out whether he meant to or not. But he wasn’t beyond helping. If you could just turn your head and look at him—make him see you, help him to ground himself like you practiced, you might be able to talk him down, or at least ease him through the worst of it. Maybe. If you could only get a look at him.

· You flounder for your voice and struggle to keep it steady once you find it, “Hey, B-Billy? Billy, baby, you’re okay, right?” It’s an innocent question you usually begin with when he gets like this. Sometimes he’s too worked up to even begin to answer you, sometimes he tries so damn hard to answer, but can’t—not in a way you could really understand anyhow—and sometimes you can talk it through with him. Every time you try, the reaction is different. You can only cross your fingers and pray for a positive outcome.

· This time, he coughs. It’s a horrible, a horrible, racking sound that echoes in his chest—it’s almost closer to a scream than anything else. Another spasm jitters through him, the joint in his neck snapping loud in the darkness. You feel his forehead collide with your shoulder once, twice, then he stills. His flesh is clammy against yours, and the gentle brush of his hair makes your skin prickle, but he seems calmer. He barks a laugh—his own this time—and nuzzles against your back, smearing your skin with sweat and saliva. “Fuck!” He says, as though that explains everything.

· “Billy? Are you…alright?”

· He chirps like bird, three short bursts of whistling he’d picked up last spring when a robin mad made a nest on your windowsill, “Right as rain, rain, rain!”

· You’re left with a heady rush of confusion and relief as you realize he must have pulled himself out of the hole he’d almost fallen into. A little flicker of pride sparks to life in your chest. He’s come so far.

· Your concern melts away once again into pleasure as Billy jerks his hips. Keening high in the back of his throat, he fucks himself deeper into you. He drags his cock out slow, sounding for all the world as though he’d forgotten just how good it felt to fuck you—as though he hadn’t been doing just that not sixty seconds ago. He scrapes his teeth against your shoulder, the promise of a bite that will surely come and mark you for days. His fingers flex around your wrists, blunt nails biting deeper into your flesh as he falls back into that brutal rhythm.

· Your legs begin to shake as Billy’s cock bumps up against something a bit more sensitive inside of you. Your breath fogs against the surface of the desk as it heaves from your lungs, a thin mist that barely has the time to fade before the next heavy puff of air replaces it. You find yourself struggling to swallow the moans Billy’s working so hard to pull from you. You know how much he likes to hear you—how wild it makes him—and you know there’s no real need to be quiet, not with the dorm cleared out for the long weekend. Still, something—be it a force of habit from living in close quarters with thin walls, or simply your own embarrassment—keeps you quiet.

· “Fiiiilthy whore!” A growl, caught low in his throat, tears through the air between you, “Pretty pussy! Want it full! My cock, my cum…gonna fill it full!” Never at a loss for a string of vulgarities, Billy mumbles against your skin, his words slurring into one another until you can barely decipher one though from the other.

· “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!” Billy jerks his hips forward, and for the first time this evening, you feel the full length of his cock stretching you out. You jerk beneath him, mewling into the desktop, squirming about as you try desperately to relax around him. You’re so full—so full you can barely breathe, but it feels so good. Your muscles contract around him, unbidden, throbbing with the sudden stretch. It makes him shudder and sigh above you, a wavering rush of air than hisses out between his teeth.

· He holds you there for a moment, trembling almost as much as you are, “Tight fffucking cunt, so fucking tiiight for Billy!” His hips stutter forward in time with his ragged breathing. Desperately, he tries to fuck himself deeper into you, even though he can’t—he’s already buried to the hilt, his hips tucked snugly against your ass. But he gives it the old college try anyhow. He begins to babble nonsensically against your neck, “Ruin it, ruin it! Never take another cock! Full, full, full! I left it in the kitchen, Jan! Not after Billy’s! A low pressure system moving in and—fuck you full, fuck you full, full, full!”

· The tops of his thighs quiver as he grinds into you, and as he shifts, the head of his cock presses against something. For a moment, your vision goes white. Your legs seem to fall away beneath you, your knees drifting south as the pleasure carries away their ability to hold you upright any longer. If it weren’t for the desk, you probably would have slid down into a boneless heap on the floor.

· You gasp, mouth gaping wide, pulling in a great, deep lungful of air. To call his name? To beg him for more? To put wordless voice to your pleasure? You aren’t sure. There is little room in your brain for thought beyond the need for more. Mercifully, Billy saves you from the struggle before you can waste too much energy on it.

· Almost as soon as he realizes your mouth is open, Billy shoves his fingers into your mouth. Two boney digits slide against your tongue, pressing and prodding against the slick muscle. The taste of dust and salt floods your mouth with the intrusion. You wrinkle your nose, and try to pull your head back, but Billy leans down into you, pressing you down further beneath his weight, grinding your ribs into the desktop.

· “No, no, no,” He chides, voice soft and light—almost cheerful. He spreads his fingers apart, rubbing over the hard bumps of your bottom teeth with a tenderness you rarely see in him. “Gotta make room,” His voice rumbles through you as he presses his lips against your flesh, “Gotta stretch it out for Billy, or he won’t fit!”

· He nuzzles his cheek against your shoulder, still rocking his hips into you, pressing against that spot that makes your brain fill with television static, “Billy’s gonna fuck your throat once he’s filled that pretty pussy!”

· Your lips are pulled taught as his fingers press against the walls of your mouth, testing its limits. “Soft and warm! Wanna fuck it! Fuck it deep!”

· His hips buck hard, shoving you another inch toward the wall. You can feel yourself drooling around his fingers—your saliva dripping down your chin in great rivulets and collecting beneath your cheek.

· His knuckles bump against the roof of your mouth as the pads of his fingers find the back of your tongue. You gag around them, struggling to breathe, but Billy just laughs and presses down harder.

· “Again,” His voice comes out in a ragged puff of breath, half-whisper, half-growl, rough as rock salt, “Pussy gets tight when it chokes.”

· You try to suck in a shocked breath, but you can’t manage it around his fingers. Your throat convulses around him as you struggle to breathe.

· You feel his cock pulse inside of you and he groans his pleasure long and low into the darkness, “Yesssss!”

· He rocks into you again, “No one fucks like Billy, huh?” He pulls back, his cock nearly slipping from your body entirely, then he slams his hips home again, “No one fucks you full like Billy can! No one! No one! No one!” The phrase becomes a litany, each sentence punctuated with a bruising snap of his hips. “Know why?” He drags his teeth along the edge of your shoulder blade, “Know why?” You can hear the grin in his voice, wide and sharp, “‘Cuz Billy fills you up from both ends!”

· You sob around Billy’s fingers, your eyes rolling back as he pushes them deeper into your mouth. If he keeps on like this, it won’t be long before you fall apart around him—you want to cum so desperately, you can hardly keep another thought in your brain. Your muscles clench up around him and he laughs, giggling to himself as he hooks his chin over your shoulder. He can feel how close you are.

· His tongue slides against the side of your face, leaving a thick, wet stripe across your cheekbone. His lips scratch rough against your jaw, “Pretty pussy’s gonna cum? Gonna cum all over Billy’s fat fucking cock? Yeah?” His simpering tone makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but you nod. Another peal of sick laughter bubbles up in his throat, “You’re gonna cum and Billy’s not even trying! So dirty, dirty, dirty!”

· You whine around his fingers as he babbles on, “Billy could fuck you harder, but he doesn’t need to! Stupid, greedy pussy, silly fucking cunt can cum like this!” His teeth sink into your shoulder and the rest of his diatribe is lost to you. Even so, he continues to mumble filth against the skin caught between his teeth.

· The bite stings, bright and sharp, and you sob around him, clenching your jaw, your teeth digging into his fingers. Billy releases you with a hiss, dipping his head into the crook of your neck. You think for a moment you might have hurt him, but in mere seconds, he’s giggling to himself again. “Sharp, sharp teeth! No good. No, no good. Not for Billy’s cock. Gotta tear them out, make room for Billy!”

· Though you know the threat is mostly empty, the way Billy caresses your molars with the pad of his finger makes you a little nervous. You’re sure if he could get a good grip, he could easily ‘make room,’ and there was probably not much you could do to stop him. But he pulls his fingers back, retreating from the crushing press of your back teeth.

· He presses down against your tongue again, rubbing against the slick muscle fondly. “Need to practice! Greedy cunt needs to learn! Learn to suck Billy’s fat cock properly.” He snaps his hips, as though trying to remind you just how fat it really was—as though there was any change you could forget while it was rearranging your guts for you. “Gonna teach you to take it good!”

· Your eyes roll back at the thought. You can picture yourself kneeling under the desk, Billy draped over the chair, wild hair falling over his eyes as you try to take him all the way down to the base. He’d fuck your throat until your vision goes black, his fingers tangled deep in your hair, nails digging into your scalp. Your own fingers slide desperately between your thighs, chasing your release as he chases his own and god what you wouldn’t give to make the fantasy real—to feel the length of him in your mouth, the rough denim of his pants beneath your hands, the jerk and sting against your scalp as he tugs on your hair. Your cheeks hollow around Billy’s fingers, a pretty whine sitting high in the back of your throat.

· And Billy stops—stops moving, stops talking. He hovers above you, silent and still as a statue, barely breathing. A terrible moment of clarity washes over you and the embarrassment comes rolling in. There you were, still stretched out on Billy’s cock, barely moments away from an orgasm and you were already thinking about another? Were you really that desperate? Your cheeks burn hot against the cool wood of the desktop. Shame licks at the pit of your stomach—it wasn’t unlink Billy to think this way, he was always seeking the next shot of pleasure, but it wasn’t like you. As though it wasn’t bad enough to catch yourself thinking that way…for someone else to do it? It was mortifying…and maybe a little exciting too.

· Your stomach flips as Billy shifts behind you, the burgeoning stubble on his jaw scraping across your sensitive skin. Then you feel it, a smile spreading across his face—it’s a grin you’ve come to know well, all teeth and wide enough to make his jaw pop. Even without looking at him, you know you’re fucked.

· All at once, he lurches to life again, fucking his fingers hard into your mouth, in tandem with the harsh thrusts of his hips. A filthy string of gibberish falls from his lips as he pounds into you, “Greedy! Greedy cunt! Want it in your mouth too? Filthy, greedy fucking whore!”

· You whine, and choke, and sob around Billy’s fingers. Your face is wet with sweat, with spit, with tears, you can’t tell and at this point, you’re far beyond the point of caring. The world has narrowed to a single point between your legs as you teeter on the knife’s edge of your release. You rock your hips back against Billy, meeting his thrusts, desperate for more. You’re so, so close, and Billy can feel it too—the way you tighten around him spurring his pace from wild to frantic.

· His voice is broken, his words panted out between jagged breaths and garbled moans, “Gonna be good for Billy? Gonna cum?” His face is buried in the crook of your neck. He giggles against your flesh as he splits you open, slamming into you like it’s the last fuck he’ll ever have. “C’mon, take what Billy gives you! Take it, take it, t—ta—fuuuck!”

· Your hips stutter as your orgasm throbs through you. You scream around his fingers as you cum, your muscles clamping down around Billy so hard he almost has to stop moving, rolling his hips forward quick and shallow. His howl is lost in the sound of blood rushing in your ears, but you can feel it vibrating through his chest, and down into your back. Your fingers scrabble at the wood beneath you, desperate for something to latch onto—to keep you grounded here as the pleasure threatens to carry you away.

· You sob and slump limp against the desk, letting it bear the brunt of your weight. There’s just no strength left in your body anymore. Your hands and feet tingle with the lingering aftershocks of the adrenaline as you begin to come down from your high, and your breath comes hard, as though you’ve run a great distance. Billy’s hips continue to snap against yours, brutal and quick. You sob into his fingers, the as the relentless pleasure sparks through you, nearly painful to your sparking nerves.

· Slowly, as your ears stop ringing, you realize Billy is still talking, babbling away in several voices. “Like your pussy tight like this. Wanna fuck you full while you cum again and again and again and I told you, Jan, I left it in the kitchen! Make you soaked, keep you soaking wet, make you fucking cry! Where is that cat? Where’s that cat? Where’s the…WHERE’S THE BABY, BILLY?! AGNES? WHERE’S AGNES, BILLY?! Beat that kid! Teach him a lesson! BEAT HIM UP GOOD!”

· His left hand shoots up from your arm and wraps around your throat, fingers flexing around your windpipe, not quite squeezing, yet, but the pressure is far from comfortable.

· “T-T-Teach rotten old Billy a lesson.” A spike of fear shoots through you and you choke around his fingers. This seems to bring his mind back, at least in part, to the present, or at least confuse him enough to serve as a distraction—he makes a noise caught between two voices. The fear that courses through you lends new strength to your limbs as you reach up and claw at his fingers.

· As you attempt to pry him lose, his grip only tightens, fingers locking around your windpipe, “Teach that boy a FUCKING lesson!” The knobby joints of his fingers press hard against the pulse in your throat and you’re sure he can feel it hammering beneath your skin. He’s losing himself again, you’re sure.

· But again, this time was different. He hadn’t stopped fucking his cock into you like he had before, and he’d wavered for a moment, when you’d choked on him. There might be something else you could do to help him. Desperate to keep him here with you in the present moment, you flex your tongue against his fingers. His hips stutter and your heart skips a beat in turn. “Filthy fucking c-c-cunt…”

· You bob your head, hollowing your cheeks around his fingers again. C’mon, Billy!

· “F-Fuck!” It’s not quite his voice, but it’s close, perhaps a little higher, a little more strained than usual, but it’s close. “Where’s the baby, Billy? Where’s the…c-c-cat gone to now?” His fingers begin to relax around your throat, but you keep sucking on his fingers, wanting to make sure you’re well and truly out of the woods before you even think about stopping. If this is going to work, you’re going to make damn sure of it.

· “Fucking greedy little cunt!” You could have cried with relief at the sound of his voice—his real voice. You hum around his fingers, and he laughs, the sound low and rumbly, “Still so fucking eager.” His hips buck forward, pressing deep inside of you. It’s still too much, too soon, and you sob with the overstimulation. The sudden spike of pleasure punches the air from your lungs and shakes your legs from underneath you.

· Billy groans as you pulse around him. “You want Billy to cum? Wand Billy to fucking fill you?” You nod frantically, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he grinds into that spot, filling your vision with white hot splotches of light.

· “Suck his cock, then,” he says, shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth again. He spreads them wide, nearly matching the girth of his cock where it fucks you open. Billy jitters behind you, chasing his release with quick, cruel thrusts. Impatient as always, he pushes digs his nail into the wall of your cheek, “Fucking suck Billy’s cock!”

· You jerk into motion as though startled from a deep sleep, pressing your head down against his fingers to take them as deep as you could. Your tongue laves against the digits, prodding gently against his scarred knuckles, playing in the space between them.

· Billy throws his head back, moaning to the ceiling long and loud, “Yessss! Good little pet! Pretty, pretty pet! His fingers stroke your throat as though he’s petting a cat, feeling it work up and down as you swallow around him. “Gooood pet! Suck Billy’s cock! Suck his cock! Su—NO!”

· Suddenly, he stops, his fingers stilling. For a moment, you think you’ve done something wrong. Had your teeth caught against him? Had you hurt him? Should you pull back and ask, or carry on? Before you can make a decision one way or another, Billy thrusts his fingers back into your throat, pressing them in as deep as he could. His knuckles bump against your back molars as you gag around him, trying desperately to breathe through your nose.

· “Lick Billy’s cunt,” For a moment, you’re still, confusion slicing through the pleasure. Billy tries to press his hand forward, his fingertips brushing against the back of your throat, “Lick it! Lick Billy’s cunt! Lick it! Lick it! Tongue his fffffucking clit!” You think about it for a moment, your exhausted, lust-fogged brain struggling to put two and two together, and then suddenly you think you understand. As gingerly as you can, while Billy continues to rock you forward over the desk, you press your tongue against the soft spot between his knuckles.

· This must have been what he’d wanted because the sound he makes is like nothing you’ve ever heard before—a wail caught somewhere between human and animal. You’ve never heard a human sound like that before. Like so many things about Billy, it’s frightening, and yet it fascinates you, attracts you, arouses you. You press your tongue harder against that spot, and the frantic rocking of his hips picks up again—but this time there’s no rhythm to it. He’s close.

· “Fucking lick Billy’s clit, make him cum! Make him cum in your pretty pussy!” You lap at his flesh with quick, deliberate swipes of your tongue. He howls against your flesh, his forehead thudding against your shoulder heavy and hard. “Fuck, f-f-f-fuck, make Billy fucking cum! Billy’s gonna, he’s-he’s-he’s gonna—!”

· In the moment before he cums everything is calm. He stills, and his voice is soft and steady in your ear; “I’m going to ruin you.”

· Then the world falls back into chaos.

· His whole body shudders above you, a bag of jangling bones he couldn’t keep control of if his life had depended on it. His teeth fix themselves deep into your shoulder, slotting into the indentations they’d left not long before. You cry out around his fingers, sure he’s drawn blood this time. You can see it when you close your eyes, visions of thick red blood splattered against his dark incisors floating against the dark inside of your eyelids.

· He shudders, momentarily stilling, then kicking back into motion, seemingly unable to deicide if he’d rather pound you through his orgasm or remain still, buried to the hilt in your tight heat. You feel the heat of him inside of you pulsing against your walls as he cums. His cheek is pressed tight against your shoulder gibbering a collection nonsensical sounds and snatches of obscenities into your flesh, “Pretty pink cunt! ah, ahhhh, fuuh—fuuuh—fuck! Dripping now! Where did you leave it? Left it fucking dripping!"

· You’re sore beyond belief from the pounding you’ve taken, but there’s still a throbbing want underneath. He’d dragged you most of the way to a second orgasm, now all you needed was a little push. Before you were completely at is mercy, able only to receive the pleasure he decided to give you. But now, your hands were free and with them you could do as you pleased. You wriggle beneath him, slipping your hands down between your thighs.

· Your fingers find their prize, and you sob, your whole body jerking forward. Even though you’d cum mere moments ago, you can’t believe how sensitive you are. You’re on the verge of orgasm almost immediately. You press harder the slide of your fingers aided both Billy’s cum and your own. You shudder, whimpering around his fingers. Your muscles clamp down on him once again, throbbing and pulsing as your orgasm builds.

· He hooks his finger inside of your cheek and pulls, “Wanna cum again. Wanna cum in your mouth,” He pulls harder exposing the sides of your teeth, “Billy wants to feel them! Feel them on his cock! Sharp and hard.” He laughs, “But Billy likes it hard.” The harsh snap of his hips that follows has you seeing spots. He opens his mouth as though to gloat, as you clench around him, he loses his words. Whimpering, soft and broken sounds against your neck, he grinds into you.

· Seconds later, you clamp down around him, a second orgasm shooting through you. The sound he makes as you cum on his oversensitive cock is nothing short of feral. He bucks wildly into you, seeking more of a pleasure that sounds almost painful as he sobs into your shoulder. His cock pulses inside of you again, throbbing as he fucks his cum deeper inside of you, as though intent on giving you more.

· And you’re sure he would. Or he would have, if you hadn’t reached back and pushed against his shoulder. He was insatiable—he’d keep going for hours unless you stop him now.

· He pulls his fingers out first, a pearly string of saliva connecting your lips to his fingertips. You cough, scratchy and wet, but when you speak, there’s no pain. “I…I just need a little break, Bills. Okay?” Your chest is heaving as you struggle for air. Billy hums above you, hesitating for a moment. He’s reluctant to give up the tight heat of your body. But at last, after nearly a full minute of grumbling and mumbling to himself, he pulls out.

· There's a sticky gush of fluids against your thigh as his cum beings to leak out of you. You rest there for a moment, the pair of you breathing hard in the darkness, the comfortable weight of his body pressing down above you, the solid plane of the desktop below. Then all of a sudden, you’re being lifted up. You squeal in shock as your flipped about and placed atop the desk. The surface is still cool against your heated flesh. The difference in temperature is a shock to your system and goosebumps break out across your arms and legs.

· Before you have a moment to process what’s happening, Billy’s head is between your thighs, his tongue lapping at mess he’d made. Your eyes go wide, and you head knocks against a wall as it falls back, “Fuuuuck, Billy!” Your hips cant up against his face, thighs squeezing tight around his ears.

· “Pretty pussy came twice already,” You can feel him smirking against your inner thigh. “Still wants more? Greedy, greedy, greedy.” You catch a glimpse of his eyes, wide and wild, shining in the darkness beneath is tangled hair, “It’s okay, Billy likes you greedy.”

[insaneoldme]

Can you rec buddie fics? Pretty please?

OMG it's my time to shine, bitches!!!

Sorry if I went a little nuts, but this fandom has some of the best writers I've ever seen. I have 186 Buddie fics bookmarked in my AO3,

I'll link here if you are interested in taking a look cause if I put them all here it would be too long. Also, I tried to show here some fics I very rarely see recced, and a little bit o the classics. This fandom has some very underrated authors, everyone in my bookmarks is worth taking a look really.

Please take a look at the warnings before reading, enjoy!!!

I Hate Accidents (Except When We Went From Friends to This) by morganofthefairies (Rated E )

Buck and Eddie had always been unconventional. Neither of them gave it much thought – they were just them. Buck and Eddie - partners, best friends, co-parents – just as entangled in each other’s lives as any actual couple in the 118.

Or, the story of how Buck and Eddie went about their relationship in entirely the wrong order.

My Heart's Been Borrowed by ElvenSorceress (Rated E)

aka the one where Taylor gives Buck his ultimate fantasy and uncovers far more than either of them expected, forcing him to confront his long held feelings for Eddie

Half Awake in Our Fake Empire by HMSLusitania (Rated E)

Buck 1.0 fathered a child and Buck 4.0 comes into custody.

Love and Bullets Both Shatter Hearts (But Only One Can Put You Back Together) (Rated E)

Agent [Redacted] Diaz is the best at what he does. Usually. But lately there's this real pain in the ass* who's been ruining his missions: Code Name "Buck."

Keep It On by R_E_R6 (Rated E)

When Eddie walks in on Buck, bent over in nothing but a hoodie, their plans for the night immediately change. Buck's outfit though? Well, Eddie requests that it stays the same...for reasons.

Heart of Flowers / Heart of Gold by ElvenSorceress (Rated T)

Buck nearly loses everything and Eddie has to follow his heart

hungry for your love by evcndiaz (Rated G)

prompt: "who’s gonna write a fanfic where chris is not cooperating with buck and eddie accidentally says “listen to your dad”?"

or; breadsticks are a metaphor for love and boning

keep your eyes on the road by iriswests (Rated M)

A glimpse into buck and eddie’s developing relationship, told through ten moments stopped at a traffic light

when things fall into place by woodchoc_magnum (Rated M)

In which Eddie asks Buck to move in with them during lockdown to help look after Christopher, which leads to certain unresolved feelings being resolved.

Carbon Date Me, Excavate Me by extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

Evan "Buck" Buckley has made a name for himself as the independent bad boy of archaeology. At least, until Professor Eddie Diaz shows up with his fedora and good looks and starts beating Buck to the punch more often than not.

Buck hates his stupid six-pack covered guts.

Except for how... he might not.

Objects in the Mirror by SevenSoulmates (Rated E)

The voice had always been around, Eddie remembers it, like a stream of consciousness that babbled incoherently to the point where Eddie just tuned it out.

But then the voice started speaking directly to him. Conversing like he was a whole person standing right in front of him. Like he could see what was happening around Eddie.

Eddie shook his head. No one was talking to him, and Eddie most certainly was not talking back.

He wouldn’t talk to the boy in his head ever again. There was no boy in his head.

ripples all the way down by iriswests (Rated M)

christopher partakes in some parent trapping

dream of some epiphany by extasiswings (Rated M)

Evan Buckley is lost.

It’s happenstance that he wanders into the navy recruiting center—he’s been in San Diego for a few weeks, bartending late nights and weekends, living in a house with three other guys not because he needs the roommates but because he doesn’t want to be alone, and the military is…respectable. Stable. So Buck thinks maybe and opens the door.

Buck leaves ten minutes later with a set of printed instructions for sending his first letter, assured that he can drop it off whenever he’s ready, and a name.

Staff Sergeant Edmundo “Eddie” Diaz.

Relationship Advice from Complete Strangers Online by HMSLusitania (Rated T)

Hi, I’ve never made a Reddit post before and I’m not 100% sure what I’m doing but I need advice and can’t ask anyone in my real life. So, I [30M] have this best friend [34M]…

Leading with the Left by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

When Buck said he was a "bartender" in "South America" what he actually meant was "stripper" in "Mexico."

And when Eddie said, "What's your problem?" what he actually meant was, "Is this about the time you gave me a lap dance?"

In other words, there's a few things the 118 doesn't know about Buck. Or Eddie. Or Buck and Eddie's relationship.

fireflies where my caution should be by littlesnowpea (Rated M)

“You never talk about your parents,” Eddie says, which is not even remotely what Buck expects Eddie to say. He frowns, tilts his head, but it isn’t a question, as evidenced by Eddie charging on. “I never asked because I figured it was your business, but the look on your face any time they’re brought up tells me you don’t get along.”

Buck swallows hard, against a lump in his throat. His parents? Eddie’s right, he never talks about them, for good reason. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, not sure what he’s even going to say.

Eddie takes it as the answer Buck is trying to make it out to be. He squeezes Buck’s wrist again, takes a deep breath, like he’s on a call with someone who’s panicking. Buck finds his breathing slowing to match Eddie’s, and Eddie nods as Buck gets it under control.

“There are people on the porch,” Eddie says, voice even. “Saying they want to meet their grandchild.”

Asked, Offered, Given, (He's) Taken by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

People like to flirt with Buck on calls. It kind of makes Buck uncomfortable.

And that makes Eddie frustrated.

I Hit the Accelerator (But the Car was in Reverse) by extasiswings, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Rated E)

When Buck is forced to confront the truth about his breakup with Abby, having casual sex with his hot new coworker seems like the best rebound idea.

Unfortunately, that hot new coworker turns into his best friend. But best friends can keep having sex with each other, right?

There's no way this could possibly go wrong.

Memorable by JessicaMDawn (Rated T)

Six times Buck got recognized by people he saved during the tsunami, and how his team realized he was a hero.

All Bets are Off by NobodyKnows_U (Not Rated)

Or, the five times the firefam realized Buck and Eddie were in love, and the one-time Eddie finally did something about it.

fire on fire by extasiswings (Rated T)

Or: Buck and Eddie get in the habit of sharing a bed while living together during quarantine. It's platonic until it isn't.

Better Together by Randomfandombloggs09 (Not Rated)

5 times Eddie sees Buck wearing his last name and 1 time its not just his

Daddy and Pops by EdithBlake (Rated M)

When Christopher calls Buck 'Pops' things get a bit confusing. Buck and Eddie have a talk with Christopher that ends up with both of them being even more confused by how right it sounds.

the meaning of the words you see by florenceandthemachine (Rated E)

unknown sender: Hi!

unknown sender: Just wanted to say thanks for letting me buy you a drink, and for your number. Sorry I had to run.

unknown sender: I’m Eddie by the way.

sent: hey um

sent: i don’t want 2 be this guy but

sent: i think u mayb put the wrong # in ur phone

the dream you wish will come true by woodchoc_magnum (Rated M)

In which Christopher Diaz cannot understand why his father would want to date his former teacher when Evan Buckley is right there.

vienna waits for you by mottainai (Not Rated)

Eddie doesn't deserve a soulmate.

Work Husband by hideeho (Rated T)

“What...what have you done with Buck?” Eddie is going to kill him for messing with his phone. No, that’s too extreme. He’s going to maim him. Just a little.

“Check under H,” Chim offers helpfully, shooting a look over to Hen with a smirk.

Why the hell would he be under—

Then he sees it.

Husband.

Bad Neighbors by firstdegreefangirl (Rated E)

Eddie's new neighbors are keeping him up all night. He calls on his best friend for a little taste of their own medicine.

Cross the Line by Sirencalls (Rated E)

Eddie laughs, short and quiet and almost to himself. “No. If you want to learn, then I’m gonna be the one to teach you.”

Buck is pretty sure his brain stops working. “What? Why?”

Eddie turns to look at him and steps closer, their chests only a few inches apart. “Because there are people out there who will take advantage of how naïve you are. They’ll hurt you, and I won’t.” Eddie’s eyes are so intense that Buck doesn’t have any choice but to believe him. “If you want someone to do this for you, to—to dominate you, it has to be me. I don’t trust anyone else to do it right.”

pretty in pink by dykeevans (Rated E)

Buck forgets that he and Eddie made plans to hang out until Eddie shows up and Buck's in the middle of laundry day.

His laundry day outfit consists of a small pink crop top and grey sweatpants.

Eddie loses his damn mind. Me too, though, me too.

the distance to the stars by cloudydaisies (Rated G)

“Didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

Buck just laughs. Like, honest to god giggles. Eddie is stuck fighting off doubly massive waves of butterflies and confusion, all while Buck just gazes down at him.

“That’s cute,” he hears Buck mumble, just before climbing into the truck, calling Eddie after him.

-or, everyone knows eddie is dating buck except for eddie, literally.

Something Old, Something New by dumbhuman (Rated E)

“Damn, I love weddings!” Buck’s face lit up as he closed the door.

If asked later, Eddie wouldn’t have been able to explain what came over him in that moment to make him ask the question. Or, at least, he wouldn’t have wanted to explain. The exhaustion was an easy excuse, but he knew deep down that it wasn’t a real one.

“Why don’t you come with me?”

one of the few things by thatnerdemryn (Rated G)

five times that Eddie tells someone else that Buck is Christopher's legal guardian plus one time he finally tells Buck.

I Didn't Know I Was Lonely 'Til I Saw Your Face by HMSLusitania (Rated T)

Total strangers Buck and Eddie go to couple's therapy together to get out of the therapy requirements their captains have placed on them.

things we shouldn't do by Ingu (Rated T)

“Why is everybody taking my relationship status so personally? Can’t I be fine with being single?” Buck said.

“Hey, you don’t have to say yes, be sad and alone if that’s what you want,” Josh replied. “But, I’m just saying. I’ve seen photos and this guy is volcanic levels of hot. Also, single dad, super cute kid. Saves lives for a living like you. I think you should give it a go.”

(the one where Buck and Eddie accidentally get set up on a blind date with each other, and everything snowballs from there)

Keeping It In The Family by Wolves_of_Innistrad (Rated T)

A young man shows up at the firehouse looking for Buck. Turns out Javier was a Bartender with Buck in Mexico. He’s back in LA, looking to reconnect and very flirty. Cue Eddie realizing Buck is not as straight as he thought.

kiss me (like your ex is in the room) by rebeccaofsbfarm (Rated E)

Eddie Diaz gets drunk and protective and signs up for a fake double date to get back at his friend's ex.

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania (Rated M)

An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is… missing presumed.

While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home

All my Buddie AO3 bookmarks

As I said this fandom has some very talented people, some of my favorite Authors's Tumblrs below, I recommend all the things they wrote and their blogs are very good.

@elvensorceress, @hmslusitania, @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels, @extasiswings

For gifs:

@arrenemris, @skylessnights (very lovely AU gifsets)

@from-nova(good gifs & content)

For Podfics: @mistmarauder everything she ever read is amazing, her podfics are high quality and she has a very lovely voice and her presence calms me down lol I recommend it

I'm sorry there are a lot more people but I'm kinda in a rush haha most of the people I follow are amazing, but the ones I mentioned here are enough to get you started or entertained for a while.

Buddie fics are amazing, this pairing has spoiled me so much, everyone I met because of it is nice and so active and talented.

Sorry mutuals if I forgot someone! 

I hope I helped Anon, have fun!

(Tell me if any link is wrong please, thanks)

[iamanartichoke]

Another totally unprompted ask, on the assumption that you are definitely no longer in need of them… another thing I’m trying to work out about Loki characterisation in preparation for perpetrating fic torture on him is how suicidal the poor sod is most of the time. This is another thing I’ve seen referred to a lot but only in passing. Though obviously this is a pretty triggery topic, so ignore if you want.

I am always in need of totally unprompted asks, otherwise I just assume no one wants to talk to me lmao

So, hoo boy. I have been mulling over this for, apparently, three days now bc there's just ... there's a lot to unpack here. Putting under a cut for obviously triggery content and also for length bc fml.

In my opinion, the response to "how suicidal is Loki most of the time" is "very, but whether or not he wants to do anything about it varies from moment to moment" (see what I did there? I'll see myself out). In other words, I have always had a headcanon that Loki is consistently, passively suicidal. This is a headcanon that comes straight from TDW, bc I'm certain that Loki never had any intention of surviving their mission. And that could be a whole other post, really, but the point is that even though this is a TDW-centric headcanon, I have come to adopt it as applying to Loki in general as well, not just in those specific circumstances.

When I say passively suicidal, I mean that Loki is just sort of ambivalent about the value of his own life. He feels like he doesn't deserve to be alive, and feels like there's little point in being alive. Which - I don't mean to sound all gloom and doom, like, poor uwu emo Loki (and I kinda hate that I have to pause to disclaim that, no, I don't just have a fixation on Loki being depressed for funsies/the aesthetic/whatever); I think that this mindset stems from really complicated places that I'm not sure I can articulate, but I will try.

I view Loki as someone who suffers from a severe inferiority complex, and I feel like it stems from being abandoned as an infant. Loki's life started with a traumatic event and, even if he doesn't remember the event itself, the feelings he experienced stayed in his subconscious. Feelings of loss, of fear, of despair and abandonment, of suffering - these are all feelings that burrowed into his bones and lived there for his entire life, feelings that colored how Loki viewed himself as a person as well as how he compared to the people around him.

Keep in mind that Loki didn't know he was abandoned until the events of Thor 1, obviously. We don't really know how old Loki is, in human years, but I have always assumed that he and Thor were at least adults (not teenagers), maybe the equivalent of early twenties - and the reason I bring that up is because it means Loki made it all the way to adulthood carrying the weight of a trauma that he did not remember or even knew had happened, so to him, there was no real reason for how wrong he felt. There was no explanation for the feelings of loss, of neglect, of fear. So on top of struggling with those feelings, Loki was also burdened with the alienation that comes with wondering why one can't just be like everyone else, why one can't just "snap out" of depression, why one's sense of self-worth has always been lacking.

So imagine what it's like to grow up as Loki. He was traumatized as an infant. The trauma has been with him his entire life, along with the confusion/alienation of not understanding why he feels the way that he does, and then on top of that, his basic personality lends itself toward introspection and isolation, so he likely felt even further removed from Thor and from his peers. Loki's too smart for his own good, and he's got an enormous capacity to feel and I feel like this is a combination that works against him as much as it does for him, bc it probably means he spent a lot of time examining himself and identifying all of his perceived flaws - and then berating himself for said flaws.

People with depression are probably pretty familiar with the bully that lives in your head, the one who is always there to remind you that you're stupid, or ugly, or that nobody likes you, or that you have nothing of value to contribute to anyone, etc. Loki's no different; he's got that bully in his head, too. Add onto this the fact that his brother is literally perfect, that he feels his father doesn't love him (or love him as much), that his interests in things like magic are looked down on in his culture, and that he's a prince (meaning that along with the privilege comes pressure, and being in the public eye, knowing that everyone around him is comparing him to Thor as much as he compares himself to Thor, well.) and you have a total clusterfuck of a mindset, and Loki's been existing inside of that clusterfuck for nearly all of his life.

I always go back to the quote where, when filming I think the vault scene, Kenneth Branagh directs Tom by saying, "This is the moment where the thin steel rod holding your brain together snaps." And it's such a significant moment for Loki bc this is where it all crumbles for him, learning the truth, but I also fixate on the "thin steel rod" part of the quote bc that's not how one would describe a healthy, stable person's mind. The implication, to me, has always been that Loki wasn't that stable to start with due to his general upbringing, his internal struggles, and his personality, so of course the devastation of learning he's adopted, and Jotun, would send him over the edge. One doesn't go from zero to 60; one doesn't fall over the edge unless they were balancing fairly close to it in the first place. And to me, the "thin steel rod" basically equals the aforementioned clusterfuck of a mindset.

THE POINT IS. (Holy shit, I ramble.) This is the foundation on which I'm basing my headcanon that Loki neither values his life nor feels as if he even deserves to live it - bc his default mindset is one of inferiority, of loss, of pain. And I think that going from being a general unstable person pre-canon to being passively suicidal post-canon is a thing that happened because, somewhere between the vault in Thor 1 and the dungeons in TDW, Loki just stopped caring.

Life is exhausting for everyone, but even moreso when your mental load becomes more than you can carry. Loki is exhausted. His experience is that things just keep getting worse and worse for him - he's never been valued, he's always been found wanting. He discovers that he was literally thrown away as an infant, unwanted and left to die, and things haven't gotten much better for him since then. Everything that can go wrong, does go wrong. His plans spin out of control. He's unable to prove his worth and his value and when he is, in fact, rejected, he literally tries to kill himself (only to survive and end up in an even worse situation).

It all just continually goes downhill, and Loki is fucking exhausted. He's done. He has no hope that anything is ever going to change - he will never be valued or even seen, he's unable to connect to anyone, he has no family (aside from Thor, but their relationship is so fraught with pain). As far as he's concerned, his life has been nothing but a waste since he was born and if no one else values it, why should he?

So - passively suicidal. He places no value on his life, and doesn't shy away from situations that could cost him his life. It's possible that the only reason he's not actively suicidal is bc his previous attempt not only failed but led to such a horrible situation that he's probably too afraid to intentionally seek out death again. He doesn't want to fail and end up worse off for it.

And - not that you asked this in particular, but - my biggest disappointment in the series is that none of what I've just written is addressed in a satisfying way (to me). That is, we don't get any real explicit acknowledgement of the trauma of Loki's abandonment as a baby or how that affected his mental health growing up; we don't get to explore how devastated he was to learn of his adoption; we don't ever see him reconcile his ingrained belief that jotuns are monstrous savages with the fact that he is jotun. He says "I betrayed everyone I loved, but I'm different now" and we're supposed to infer what he means without Loki actually articulating why he feels that he's the only one who should be held responsible for all these things that had happened or what "I've changed" even means to him (aside from not betraying Sylvie).

I would have liked to see these things addressed for a lot of reasons, but one of those reasons is that I would want to see how Loki comes to terms with all of his issues and his pain enough that he stops being passively suicidal. We never get to see that; after TDW, the time that passes allows for Loki to kinda chill, resulting in the Ragnarok version, but if there was any real healing or recovering going on, it was happening off-screen, with the audience expected to just go with "yeah Loki was going through it for awhile but he's kinda better now."

Furthermore, much of what I've written here is based on prime Loki's development through TDW, but doesn't account for series Loki's split from that timeline nor the theme of "Lokis survive" that's so prevalent in the series. So I don't think the "passively suicidal" headcanon is really appropriate for series Loki but, at the same time, I'd like to have seen why. I'd like to have seen Loki learning to value his life, or where the "we survive" mindset comes from, since that's not really been a thing before now. (Out of universe, I suspect it comes from the context of Loki just not dying whenever he tries to, but since TDW and IW haven't happened, and Loki didn't intend to survive his fall from the bifrost, framing Loki as an innate survivor doesn't really make sense, but to be fair, I'm just being picky.)

So, yeah. I'm not saying Loki doesn't experience growth or development in the series, I'm just saying that his arc left much unsaid and, furthermore, framing his growth as "wanting a throne to not wanting a throne" without addressing that Loki doesn't actually want the power of the throne, he wants the value and self-worth he associates with the throne, is - well, again, unsatisfying. Not bad, but it leaves viewers like me wanting bc we're cognizant of how much more could have been done.

I ... am going to end this now. This is probably nonsensical and all over the place, so I'm very sorry, and I'm sure this is why I don't get meta-starter asks lmfao bc no one's out here trying to read my dissertation submission for a Ph.D in Loki, but well, sometimes it just be like that.

Thank you for the ask and the opportunity to ramble.

[another-tmnt-writer]

Truth or Dare?

Raphael x Reader

Author: Admin Mo

Summary: When Mikey needs another actor for his film project, Raph gets roped into it. He didn’t, however, expect for his costar to be so cool.

Note: There are not NEARLY enough college au fics for the bayverse boys, so have this as my first contribution. <3

Warnings: Swears, mentions of drinking, plenty of fluff

Word Count: 3.9k

“Raph, PLEEEEEAAAASE!!!” Mikey folded his hands together, pleading. “We need actors for our project and our group members can’t be in it.”

Mikey, as part of his endeavor to explore every creative program at the university the turtles were currently attending, was taking a filmmaking class. And, as a part of that class, he and his fellow classmates were required to make short projects in order to learn the basics of filmmaking, from writing to directing to using the equipment to editing. As an added bonus because his professor was so especially cruel, none of the people in his group could appear in his project, and while they had managed to recruit some of their classmates to fill in the smaller roles, one of the main roles was still unclaimed.

Raph scoffed. “Mikey, you know I can’t act for shit.”

“You don’t have to actually be good at it!” He pleaded. “You should see some of the other projects. No one in the program is good at acting.”

Raph was quiet for a second, his large arms crossed in front of him, thinking. “How long is it gonna take?”

“Few hours.” Mikey shrugged. He raised an eyebrow. “And your costar is really, really hot.”

Raph sighed, disgruntled. “When?”

“YES! DUDE THANK YOU SO MUCH! YOU WON’T REGRET IT!” Mikey ran and returned with a script and a schedule, shoving it into his older brother’s hands. “We film tomorrow!”

Raph’s eyes widened. “TOMORROW?!”

***

Raph went with Mikey to where the rest of his group was meeting to film their project. He hadn’t really had time to look at the script and Mikey assured him that they’d be filming in small enough chunks that he wouldn’t need to have very much memorized at a time. He also didn’t really know what kind of movie it was and he didn’t care; he just couldn’t wait until it was over.

A few minutes after they arrived, so did his costar. And god, he couldn’t stop staring. Mikey was right. God, why was Mikey always right?

“I am so sorry I’m late. The bus almost hit a pedestrian and it was a whole thing.” You apologized.

“Don’t worry about it!” Mikey waved off your concern. “This is my brother, Raph.”

“Nice to meet you, Raph. I’m (Y/N).” You introduced, a warm smile on your face.

Raph didn’t miss the way your eyes lingered on him, but instead of the looks disdain he usually got, instead it seemed to be curiosity. Awe, even? Weird, he decided, but not unwelcome.

It was a long, awkward moment before he realized he’d better respond. “Oh, uh, nice to meet you too.”

“Um, you guys can get to know each other a little better. We’ve gotta get the equipment set up.” Mikey said, leaving the two of you on your own.

The filming location was a place you were very familiar with: the library. Particularly, in front of the cozy little coffee shop in the library.

“I didn’t really, uh, look at the script, but I’m guessing they needed a monster for a horror movie or something…” Raph flipped through the pages, skimming.

“It’s a rom com.” You corrected quietly. “I’m the main character. You’re the love interest.”

If Raph could physically blush, he was sure his cheeks would rival the color of his mask. “…Oh.”

“Is that alright?” You asked.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah it’s fine, I just…” He chuckled to himself. “I ain’t ever acted in anything before, let alone anything romantic.”

“It’s not too much, I don’t think.” You reassured him. “I’m pretty sure the most they’ll have us do is awkwardly brush hands. It’s a coffee shop meet-cute.”

“Gotcha.” And while he was relieved, he was also a little…disappointed? Huh. Weird. “So, uh, what’s yer major?”

“I’m a film major. I’m in Mikey’s class and they needed actors, so I’m paying it forward in case I need someone in my project. What’s yours?”

“I’m undecided. Just, uh, taking some time to figure things out, you know. I never really had any…school experience before this.”

“That’s a lot to adjust to.”

“Yeah, it is. I’m getting used to it, though.”

“That’s good! If you need any help with anything, let me know. I’ve picked up a bunch of good tips and tricks.”

He chuckled. “I will, thanks.”

“Do you have snapchat?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“One second.” You fished your phone out of your bag and unlocked it, opening the app to your snapcode, which he scanned and added you. “There you go.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course.”

Raph took some more time reading over the script to get the gist of the scene and you were right. Indeed, it was a rom com. Not his preferred genre, by any means, but maybe he’d warm up to it a bit over the course of the day.

“Hey (Y/N)?” Mikey called from over where they had the camera set up on the tripod. “Do you know how to white-balance this thing? Everything is orange for some reason. Which is a great color, but I’m sure Smith will dock us points for it.”

“Oh, I’ve got you.” You nodded. You looked up at Raph, your purse in hand. “Will you hold this for a second?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” He nodded, holding out a giant three-fingered hand to take the bag from you. He watched you walk over to where the rest of the group was standing, crowded around the camera. You worked your magic, shuffling through the menu and helping adjust the camera correctly. Raph couldn’t stop staring. You looked so focused. So passionate. He could tell you really liked film and everything it entailed and he wished he could just find something he cared about as much as you cared about your major.

“Awesome.” He heard Mikey say, his eyes fixed on the camera’s screen. “Thanks!”

“Of course!” You walked back over to where Raph was and he handed you your bag back. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but Mikey walked over to the two of you.

“You guys ready? I think we’re good to start now.”

“All set.” You confirmed, giving him a thumbs-up, and Raph nodded.

***

Raph might have to reconsider his stance on this acting thing. Did he think he was all that good at it? No. But so long as he had you as a costar, he’d act willingly in any project Mikey (or you) needed him for. And at the end of the shoot, he ended up having a really good time. So much so that when you guys were all done, he was…sad. Like, really sad about it.

You parted ways. You weren’t in any of his classes, so Raph wasn’t really sure if he’d see you around that much. And he didn’t see you around…until a few weeks later.

He was at the library studying with his brothers at their favorite table when suddenly, his phone buzzed, a message from snapchat coming in. He looked at the notification, doing a double-take when he read your name there. And when he reached to answer it, he moved too fast and knocked his shell-shaped cell phone off of the table.

Shit.

He bent down to pick it up and when he opened the snapchat, he was surprised to see…the back of his shell? It was captioned: “I spy with my little eye…Something red and green 😉”

Immediately, he whipped around, and sure enough, nestled in a table by the windows was you, looking at him over the top of your laptop screen. You giggled when he spotted you, waving.

Raph nudged Mikey, who was sitting across from him and Mikey traced Raph’s eyeline to where you were, his face immediately lighting up.

“Oh! Hey (Y/N)!” Mikey waved. “You wanna sit with us?”

“Is that alright?”

“Hell yeah!” Mikey motioned you over. “The more the merrier! We can pull up a chair over here on the end.”

So, you gathered your stuff while the guys rearranged some things, putting you on the end of the table, right between Mikey and Raph. When you got over there, you noticed they were sitting with the other two giant mutated turtles on campus, who you had heard of, but hadn’t met yet.

“(Y/N), these are our brothers. Leo’s over there in the blue, our fearless leader. And this is Donatello, the one we go to for homework help.”

“Not tonight you aren’t. This paper is due at midnight and it is…” Donnie glanced down at the clock on his laptop and as soon as he did, he started typing impossibly faster. “Eleven thirty-seven. Do not look at me or breathe in my direction.”

“Noted.” Mikey nodded, a trace of fear in his eyes.

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N). You’re in one of Mikey’s classes, right?”

“Yep! I’m in his film class.” You smiled, taking a sip of your iced coffee. “I got the pleasure of costarring with this one.” You nudged Raph lightly, causing him to smile the most genuine smile Mikey had ever seen on his older brother’s face.

Huh. Mikey took note, something devious stirring in the back of his mind. Interesting…

“What did you get on that, by the way?” You asked.

“We got an A! Well, Minus. But you know how Smith is.”

“Dude that’s awesome!” You bumped your fist against his. “Good job. I’m pretty sure my group got a B, but we’re not mad about it. C’s get degrees, as they say.”

“Cheers to that.” Leo chuckled.

“What are you working on today, Raph?” You asked, tilting your head in a way that sent his heart racing in a way he could not explain.

“I have a paper for my Writing 150 class.”

“Oof that sucks. Who do you have?”

“Trainor.”

“Ouch. She hated me.” You grimaced, shaking your head. “She found out I was bi and it was all over for me.”

“Did you report her? I’m pretty sure you can report her for that sort of thing.” Raph asked, trying not to get heated over it. He was pretty sure she didn’t like him very much either, but it was probably due to the fact that he was a giant green turtle. “That’s bullshit.”

“I’m in the process of that right now.” You nodded. “She’s a bitch. I don’t know if they’ll actually do anything about it though.”

“Keep me posted. I might file something too if she doesn’t stop glaring at me during class.” Raph grumbled. “It’s annoying.”

“That would be annoying. Her beady little eyes glaring at you for two agonizing hours of ‘This is how to correctly use a comma’.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. It is.”

You glanced at your phone, which buzzed with a text from one of your roommates. “Oh! Uh, do you guys have any plans this weekend?”

“Nope. Why?” Mikey asked, curiosity seeping into his voice.

“My roommate is throwing a party, if you guys wanna come. It’ll be pretty chill. Drinks, pizza, some music.”

“Oh hell yes.” Mikey nodded. He looked at Leo. “Leo, can we?”

“I don’t see why not.” Leo shrugged. “Sounds like a good time.”

“Is there a dress code?” Mikey asked. Now that he was finally allowed to socialize, he didn’t want to fuck it up.

“Nope. Just casual. Come as you are.”

“Do you need us to bring anything?”

“If you guys have a drink of choice, bring that, I guess, but otherwise, my roommate’s boyfriend works at a pizza place, so we get a pretty good discount and we have literally so much wine.”

“That’s amazing.” Mikey nodded, making a mental note to look into jobs at a pizza place later.

“We’ll bring a veggie tray.” Donnie said, his fingers flying across the keyboard of his laptop until finally, he stopped. “I finished, by the way.”

“Good job, dude!” Mikey gave him a thumbs up. “You wanna write mine next?”

“Ha.” Donnie stared at him. “Funny.”

“What’s your paper on, Raph? Maybe I can help.”

Raph turned his laptop towards you. “We have to write it about like growing up. You can, uh, read it if you want. I don’t mind. I’m kinda stuck right now anyway.”

“Okay.” You agreed, switching his laptop for yours. You winked. “Trade ya.”

“What are you writing about?” He asked, scrolling to the top of your document.

“Women in Film.” You shot finger guns at him. “I’m about to make some Film Bois REALLLL mad.”

“Roast ‘em, (Y/N).” Mikey laughed, knowing all too well exactly which film boys you were talking about. He was not a fan.

“That’s the plan.” You chuckled and then started reading over Raph’s paper. You had known before meeting them that they hadn’t exactly had the best childhood, but…wow was it eye-opening reading the experience from his eyes. “Holy shit.”

“That bad?” He joked, trying to read your expression.

“No, it’s…Raph, this is really good, but wow. You guys went through a lot, huh?”

“Yeah…” He shrugged. “It wasn’t all bad, but it sure wasn’t normal by any means.”

“Mmm…” You nodded, looking up at him. “I mean, normal is kinda overrated.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad ya think so. Not many people do.”

You shrugged, smiling softly. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not like many people.”

***

“(Y/N), this place is as clean as it’s gonna get. It’s a party. It’ll be messed up in,” your roommate, Haley, glanced down at her watch, “like twenty minutes.”

“I know, I just…I’m nervous. These guys are basically superheroes. I want to make a good impression.”

“Fair point.”

You swept the kitchen floor and got out the cutest paper plates you had in the cupboard as well as some solo cups and plastic wine glasses. If you could avoid broken glass today, that was probably the move.

The doorbell buzzed and your heart raced, but it was just your other roommate’s boyfriend with the pizza.

“Is Darcy here?” He asked.

“She’s upstairs getting ready, you explained, helping him get the pizza and breadsticks and everything set up on the counter. He’d also brought a few two-liters of Pepsi, which was good. You put it next to the giant jug of fruit punch you’d bought at the grocery store. It was important to make sure your non-drinking friends had something to drink, too.

A few minutes after, guests started arriving. Darcy came downstairs and started up her iconic party playlist. Your neighbors popped in. It was easier to invite them and let them have a good time with you than have them call security on you guys for throwing a party, even if it was the weekend and it was only nine.

You turned off the lamps in the living room and instead set your strip lights to party mode, causing them to cycle through a bunch of colors in time with the music. It was then that the doorbell rang again and you rushed to the mirror to check yourself once more. You adjusted your hair, straightened out your top, and checked your teeth for food. Nope, you were good.

So, with the rest of the hosts distracted, you opened the door. On the other side of it were four tall, green gentlemen, one of them carrying a veggie tray.

“Hey guys, come on in!”

You moved out of the way so they could step inside.

Mikey’s eyes widened, looking into the living room full of dancing college kids. “Woahhhhh this is awesome!”

“Glad you think so.” You laughed. “There’s food and drinks in here, the bathroom is in the hallway, and everyone else seems to be either in the living room or the back yard.”

“Where do you want this veggie tray?” Donnie asked.

“Thank you so much for bringing this, by the way! You can set it over by the pizza boxes. I can get a spoon for the dip.” You said, walking towards the silverware drawer and producing a spoon while Donnie popped the lid off of the plastic serving tray and opened up the dip. You handed him the spoon.

The guys were each sporting their signature color, but they were wearing clothes you hadn’t seen them in before. Usually, Raph liked to wear a large gray hoodie, but today, he was sporting a black t-shirt and an impossibly large red flannel with some jeans. It looked good on him. Like, really good.

Apparently, he was thinking the same thing, because as soon as you were free, he walked up to you and nudged you gently. “You look really good.”

Your cheeks flushed with warmth and you wished you could blame it on wine, but you hadn’t even had a sip yet. “Thanks. You clean up pretty nice yourself.”

Had you worn a red top on purpose? Yes, absolutely. Would you admit to it, though? No, definitely not.

But Mikey noticed. Oh, Mikey noticed everything. And he couldn’t help but think that you and his older brother would make quite the couple. Maybe there was something he could do to just…give it a little push.

***

The time came later, when the party was finally starting to wind down. Some people had left. Your neighbors had gone home, and you’d switched the strip lights to a light, warm color. You’d also switched the upbeat party playlist for something chill to play in the background. The remaining partygoers were all settled in a circle in the living room, eating whatever pizza was left, sipping on box wine, and playing a game of truth or dare.

“Haley, truth or dare?” Darcy challenged.

“Truth.”

“Okay…Fuck, Marry, Kill: Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth and…..Chris Pine.”

“DAMN.” She cursed. “You can’t do that to me. Shit. Uh…Fuck Chris…Hemsworth. Marry Chris…Pine? And—”

“Don’t you do it!” You warned.

“Kill Chris Evans.”

“Noooooooooo!” You whined, taking a sip of your drink. The rest of the group laughed. “Poor Captain America.”

“Rest in pieces, Cap.” She agreed, shaking her head. “Okay…Mikey, truth or dare.”

“Dare.” Mikey answered quickly. He always picked dare, so in the fifth round of the game, it wasn’t much of a surprise.

“I dare you…to take a shot of straight lemon juice.”

“Easy peasy.” Mikey scoffed, pouring himself a shot and downing it.

You watched as his face contorted at the sour, sour taste. You couldn’t help but giggle a little at that.

“Good job, Mikey.” Donnie laughed, dipping a piece of broccoli in dip before popping it into his mouth.

“Taking it like a champ.” Leo added, nodding.

“Alright, my turn?” Mikey asked, looking around the circle for his victim, pretending he hadn’t been planning this since round one. “(Y/N). Truth or dare?”

You thought about it for a second. How easy it would be to just choose truth again, but for some reason, you were feeling a little brave, so instead, you picked, “Dare.”

“Oooooooh,” the circle said, all of them a little surprised by that choice.

“Okay. Alright.” Mikey rubbed his hands together mischievously. All according to plan. “I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

“OOOOOOOHHHH!” The circle all stared at you and you thought for a second, a smirk settling on your features.

“Oh that’s easy.” You got up and crossed the circle until you were standing in front of Raph. Even sitting down, he was almost your height. “Think I could get a kiss?”

Raph stared up at you, shocked, waiting for you to say Sike! HAHA! Did you actually think I thought you were hot?! Loser!

But you never did, instead looking down at him with sincerity, patience. Were you a little…nervous, even?

“Why me?” He whispered, his eyes fixed on you. There were plenty of good-looking human guys still there, and yet you were certain. Unwavering. Then, louder, he asked, his heart absolutely fighting to get out of his chest, “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” You nodded, starting to lean closer. Once you were most of the way in, you let him meet you in the middle, your soft human lips meeting his, which were, you had to admit, way softer than you thought they would be.

Raphael kissed you like you were made of glass, like if he moved too fast, you would shatter. It was his first kiss, after all, and he didn’t want to fuck it up.

When it finally ended, you walked back to your seat in the circle, your cheeks rosy, heart racing. Haley gave you a nudge and you giggled, your stomach filled with butterflies. The rest of the game went along with little fanfare, and once everyone was tired enough, the apartment cleared out even more, leaving just your roommates, Darcy’s boyfriend, and the turtles, who insisted on helping clean everything up. Well, it had been Leo’s idea, but the rest had agreed to stick around to help.

You volunteered to go out into the backyard to pick up all of the stray solo cups and White Claw cans. You hated litter. You worked out there alone for a bit. As you bent down to pick up the last can you heard the signature screech of the sliding door opening.

Raph squeezed through the narrow doorway, cursing his shell for making him so damn wide.

“Hey,” you said softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Your voice was almost swallowed up by the sounds of the choir of crickets outside.

“Hey.” He closed the sliding door. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded, tying off the trash bag you were using to collect garbage. “How was your first college party?”

“It was great. Really, really great.” He said, taking slow steps through the grass towards you. “Um…I…did you mean what you said? Earlier.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you…was I really…” he laughed at the absurdity of it. “You think I’m hot?”

“I do.” You nodded. “Of course I do.”

“I’m sorry if I find that a little hard to believe.” He shook his head, stopping right in front of you. When he was standing in front of you like this, he was remined of just how big he was compared to you, just how much he towered over you. Just how different you were. “I’m just used to the opposite reaction.”

“Believe it.” You reached forward and took his hand in yours, gripping one of his giant green fingers.

“I’m trying to.” He chuckled and fiddled with your little hand, nervous. “You know, uh…that was my first kiss in there. I wasn’t too awful, was I?”

“I didn’t mean to steal your first one.” You laughed softly. “Sorry. But to answer your question, I thought it was perfect.”

“That’s a relief.” He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Uh…If it’s alright with ya…I’d like to give you my second kiss, too.”

Instead of answering, you took another step closer, looking up, up, up into his piercing green eyes. “You’re gonna have to come down here; I can’t reach.”

He laughed. “Right.” Raph craned his neck down, one of his large hands tilting your face up towards his so he could meet you in the middle for another perfect kiss.

***

“What are you doing?” Leo asked Mikey, who was peering through the blinds into the back yard of the apartment.

Mikey only grinned proudly, nodding to himself. “Works every time…”

[ficrecsbybu]

WinterIron fic rec 2021: Part I

Note: this fic rec consists only of Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark fics. the only Stucky & Stony you might see is as past relationships but that’s it. it’s also complete works ONLY. also - no underage stuff 🔪.  if you have any requests for Winteriron fic recs (for e.g non-superpower au, only one shots, series, hardcore smut, post-tws, college au, not team cap friendly fics, bodyguard au etc.) you can send me requests ^^. anyway... enjoy 😉 

✨ The Guiding of Death by RayShippouUchiha

“That whole Merchant of Death thing,” someone off to the side faux whispers, “makes a lot more sense now.”

It echoes across the bridge like a gunshot. 

Rated M, Hades & Persephone AU, Canon Divergence, always female Tony Stark, not Team Cap friendly. word count: 41391

(note: listen... I know het pairings and/or gender bend is not popular and I never really read those in general BUT this is straight up one of the best fics I have ever read so I NEEDED to share this with y’all...✌️)

✨ Forms of Love by bear_bell

Tony's the bad guy, after all. He's used to it. He's fine with it. He's good at it.

Only now, there's something far worse loitering around the tower - The Winter Soldier. No one notices the guy at first, but when they do, Tony figures that he should have the soldier's back.

Birds of a feather should flock together, and the bad guys should start a book club.

Rated E, Post-CW, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Different Personalities, Team Iron Man. word count: 33591

✨ Looking at You by NotEvenCloseToStraight

Bucky looks for so long that now all he wants to do is touch and hold and fix everything. But Tony can barely be in the same room as Bucky, cant even look him in the eye. So Bucky doesn't know what to do about Tony, but he is determined to do something. Because all he wants is to look at Tony, and see Tony looking back with a smile.

Rated E, Post-CW, PTSD, team heals, mental healing, forgiveness, angst with a happy ending. word count: 28,168

✨ I'll Be Your Bodyguard (If You'll Be My Security Blanket) by NarutoRox

When one of Loki's pranks gone wrong leaves the team with a young Winter Soldier in their care, they know they're going to have their hands full. Especially since this newer, tinier version of Bucky seems to have a bodyguard complex - and a particular attachment to Tony.

Rated T, kid fic, age regression/de-aging, de-aged Bucky, tiny bodyguard Bucky. word count: 4,993. 

(note: finally something CUTE. Im so sorry for being such a slut for angst and heavy stuff 😅)

✨ Fate Strings Not Required by Akira_of_the_Twilight

Tony took the hint.

Tony wrapped his hand around the new guy’s elbow. He kept his touch light and breakable in case he’d misread the cue.

“Just some guy claiming to be my soul mate, babe.”

The new guy’s eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise. He chuckled and gave the first guy a smirk. “Strange. Last time I checked we were soul mates.”

Rated T, AU - no superpowers, AU - soulmates, Bodyguard Bucky Barnes, age difference. word count: 7,032.

✨ Shameless  by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)

Tony isn’t actually sure which of them starts it—he’d like to take credit, but if he’s learned anything it’s that Barnes is by no means a wilting flower. Besides, the start doesn’t matter as much as figuring out who’s going to actually finish it.

rated M, flirting, dirty talk, sexual tension. word count: 2,560

✨ Winter Wooer by salytierra

Winter may not be the most pleasant guy to live or share your body with, but he isn't nearly as destructive as everybody expected him to be either. He likes to brood in the corners, watch British TV, and freak people out. And Tony. He really, really likes Tony Stark. There's just one problem – Bucky's pretty sure he doesn't feel the same way about the guy.

Rated M, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Different Personalities, team as family. word count: 8,726

✨ Even Darkness Must Pass by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)

“Fake it till you make it,” Bucky whispered to himself, swallowing around his panic. Sam had drilled the idea into him, and it had become a mantra of sorts, something to hold onto when all he wanted to do was blend into the shadows and disappear.

“You’ll be fine.”

Steve placed a warm, strong hand on Bucky’s shoulder and squeezed, his super soldier ears having picked up Bucky uttering the now familiar saying.

Bucky nodded, tried to believe his own words, and followed Steve onto the common floor, a wall of sound hitting them as they entered.

rated M (but mild sexual content), parent Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes recovering, team as family, of love and hobbits 🧝🏻‍♂️. word count: 15,289

✨ Paths Are Made by Walking by Potrix 

The road to recovery is long, winding and a different one for every person walking it. Bucky chooses to help himself the only way he knows how; by doing what he does best.

Or, alternatively; the one in which Tony is a mess and accidentally kick-starts Bucky’s protective mother hen instincts.

rated T, post-TWS, fluff, humour, getting together, idiots in love. word count: 4,744.

✨ Rise In Perfect Light (Be Not Fearful Of The Night) by RayShippouUchiha

At first, the new element singing in his chest, Tony doesn’t understand what he’s done.

Doesn’t understand the full consequences of his actions.

But, to be fair, there’s no way he really could have.

Not even a futurist like him could have ever seen this coming.

rated G, post-CW, past Stony, angst with a happy ending. word count: 3,589.

(note: this fic is SO BEAUTIFUL. lemme just asjkdjnsjkdm)

✨ and amidst the ruins, there was you by TheKitteh

With everything resolved - post the Berlin conflict, Siberia and the rogue Avengers' return - Tony relishes in the clarity of what the team is now. He can finally see the well-defined lines, he can rely on solid rules and the chain of command. He's settled into his life like never before.

That is, until one day, an unhinged sorcerer with no grasp on his magic shatters that new-found balance.

As a result, half of Tony's soul is now gone, but he's willing to do anything to get it back.

rated T, post-CW, canon divergence, au - Dystopia, Dimension Travel, magical accidents, slow burn, getting together. word count: 36,976

✨ and so we unfold by TheKitteh

Senbazuru. Thousand Cranes.

An ancient Japanese legend that promises anyone who folds a thousand origami cranes will be granted a wish by the gods. Some stories believe you are granted happiness and eternal good luck, instead of just one wish, such as long life or recovery from illness or injury.

Bucky’s not big on believing in any legends, not after all that has happened. He just wants to create something for a change, not destroy.

He needs to prove himself that he can be trusted to handle something delicate. He doesn’t need a promise of a wish come true. He just,- needs to do this for himself.

He doesn’t need noticing how sad, tired Stark looks. Doesn’t need to want to do something for the man, when he can barely do anything for himself.

rated T, CACW canon divergence, getting together, reconciliation, POV alternating, Bucky Barnes recovering. word count: 14,449

✨ Spilt on the Ground like Water by tisfan

Tony has been black-bagged and illegally held at the Raft. Steve has no intentions of going to rescue him.

But the Winter Soldier isn't going to leave him behind.

rated E, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, implied/referenced torture, frottage, dub-con, mention of part non-con (HYDRA trash party), not Steve friendly, suicidal thoughts, touch-starved. word count: 10,853

✨ Norns, Save Us (From Ourselves) by phlintandsteel

It’s been ten years since half the universe was dusted.

rated E, post-IW au, A/B/O verse, Omega Tony, Alpha Bucky, Soulmates, Peter & Harley playing matchmaker, still recovering Bucky Barnes, not Steve Rogers Friendly, angst with a happy ending. word count: 37,324.

✨ Change You Like A Remix by ficlicious 

No one ever said Avenging would be easy, but Bucky could have really used a memo about the weeks where the hits just didn’t stop coming. He’d probably still have signed his soul away to the gods of spandex and paperwork, but a heads up woulda been nice before he nodded and smiled and took up residence in the house sanity fled when the Avengers moved in.

---- Soulmates, misunderstandings, snark, genderswap and sleep-deprived Avengers abound. Tony's a woman. Must be Friday.

rated E, AU - soulmates, established relationship, temporary gender swap, jealous Bucky Barnes, misunderstanding, miscommunication. word count: 10,494.

✨ Getting to Know You by orbingarrow

It had been an adventure, navigating the sweetly apologetic Bucky Barnes, who haunted the tower most days, and the the Winter Soldier, who occasionally inhabited Barnes’s body. The Winter Soldier was not apologetic; he was scary. And he was currently chilling out, uninvited, in Tony's lab.

“Leave,” Tony said, because Tony was either a dead man or not, and there wasn’t much he could do about it before coffee.

“Or you could give me permission to be here,” the Winter Soldier suggested.

“I don’t let strangers poke around my stuff,” Tony grumbled, as he walked past the Soldier to take a seat at his workbench.

“Easily solved,” the Soldier deflected. “Get to know me.”

-This is what happens when Tony does.

rated G, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are different personalities, fluff, Clint Barton is a good bro. word count: 9,470

✨ Safe House by ali_aliska

For years, Tony had successfully kept his secret. Neither the world nor his team knew he was Iron Man and as far as he was concerned, everyone was better off that way. On his best days, Tony Stark was not someone people liked and trusted, so the last thing Tony wanted was to tarnish Iron Man’s good reputation by revealing the truth.

But then SHIELD falls, the Avengers face disarray, and a stray Hydra assassin forces Tony to go into hiding—and where better than the safe house he had just crafted for the Avengers and their own ex-assassin ready to come in from the cold?

Tony plans to hide away from everyone in his makeshift workshop until the coast is clear and he’s safe to go home. No one would care to spend any time with the reclusive, arrogant billionaire anyways, right? Iron Man is the one everyone wants around.

Bucky Barnes, on his own journey to reclaim his life and identity, seems to disagree with that sentiment.

rated T, post TWS, canon divergence, au - Secret Identity, mutual pining, team as family, slow burn, misunderstandings. word count: 89,533

✨ Versace on the floor by withered

The modern man’s armor is his clothing, and Bucky wants Tony out of his.

rated T,  post CW, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Separate Personalities, Barnes & Soldier & their hard-on for Tony, not team cap friendly. word count: 2,127 

[poohkeepsee]

I was going through my AO3 bookmarks, and I wanted to organize them a little bit. These are my Dean/Cas canon-ish fic recs.

season 5

canticles  by  2street2car Words: 10,311     Chapters: 1

“But you know something? If I couldn’t get you laid, at least I gave you a good first date.”feat: footsies at a Ruby Tuesday, stargazing, the recreation of an iconic "Dirty Dancing" scene (no, not that one—the other one), and practicing for When You're With A Girl.

FTBYAM MY BELOVED

post season 6

Someone Who's Feeling For Me  by  ellispark  Words: 45,876     Chapters: 1

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

post bunker

Sun Can't Set Until Nine  by  LeverDrift Words: 67,939     Chapters: 16

Cas moves into the bunker as his powers start to fail. Dean doesn’t know if the arrangement is as permanent as he wants it to be. He's also not sure why he keeps dreaming about his friend. All he knows is that he wants Cas to stay. Overall warnings: canon-typical miscommunication & Dean having self-hatred issues.

Life Skills  by  ilovehowyouletmefall           Words: 26,052     Chapters: 3

After Metatron steals Castiel's grace, and Cas comes to live in the bunker, Dean spends a lot of time with him, sharing all of his favourite things. Dean can't help it if sharing things with Cas just makes everything better. Besides, it's Dean's job as Cas' friend to introduce him to the joys of human life. To teach him how to be human.  And if one of the experiences they end up sharing is sex with women, well... that's just part of Dean's job as Cas' friend too, right? The desire is triangulated, the rituals are intricate.

Sam Stole My Boyfriend  by  sobsicles    Words: 8,445     Chapters: 1

“Dude, you’ve been staring at me a lot lately, like even enough that Sam noticed. More than usual. So, like, what’s up?” Dean pauses, purses his lips and reconsiders. “What did I do?”

Cas knows that would be a perfect time to confess to Dean what exactly happened and what he was thinking. Maybe, Dean had some insight into the situation or even some kind of comfort to offer. But, the longer that he sat there, he realized that he could not tell Dean absolutely anything. So instead, for the first time, Cas fumbled.

“Um,” Cas mutters and abruptly stands. “Freckles?”

Dean blinked up at him as Cas pivoted and left the room. There was only one remaining option he had and unfortunately, it involved Sam.

Aching in the Absence of You  by  sobsicles Words: 95,090     Chapters: 10

Brittle and battle-worn, Cas looks at him over coffee one morning and says, "I need to go," and Dean instantly knows that he's not coming back.

He's not really sure how he knows it, but he does. It settles into the pit of his stomach, curling hot and tight like something he instinctively wants to tear out with his bare hands. He takes a breath, and it gets stuck in his throat, hitching there. It hurts, hurts, hurts when he finally exhales.

"Yeah," Dean says, "of course you do," and he nods jerkily as he looks down at his phone. He doesn't say goodbye. He doesn't look up from the screen when Cas gets up and leaves the room. He doesn't finish his coffee, or move for a long time.

By nightfall, Cas is gone.

'Communication'  by  JustAnotherSamlicker Words: 11,656

The same story told from two perspectives.

Dean bought a house and he and Cas fix it up.

Is Dean moving out? Is Cas moving in?

Should they just talk to each other already? (Yes they should)

Build a Home  by  domesticadventures Words: 20,102

After they save the world, Dean expects Cas to come back to the bunker with them.

He doesn't

season 10

The Most Important Thing  by  NorthernSparrow Words: 94,462     Chapters: 14

Jimmy Novak remembers nothing of the last six years. Reunited with his troubled daughter Claire, he's struggling to raise her on his own. The most important thing is to make Claire happy. But why does he keep having these dreams of wings, and of two men in a black car? (Canon-divergent from S10E11, when we first met Claire again and Dean was still struggling with the Mark of Cain. Takes places several months later).

season 12

Heroes for Ghosts  by  pantheon_of_discord Words: 42,922     Chapters: 7

Canon-divergent from 12.08

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

season 13

i want to do with you (what spring does with cherry trees)  by  sobsicles   Words: 74,173     Chapters: 8

Dean keeps going back.

When he arrives, it's always to blooming flowers and a windmill in the background, not too far from a brook, the sun painting the plains.

He likes it there. He likes to stand in front of the makeshift urn and check that it's still where he put it, switching out the flowers when they wilt. He likes to listen to the sound of birds chirping, insects singing, the faint sound of water trickling in the distance. He likes to turn his face up and feel the sun on his skin, wondering if Cas would do the same if he were here, somehow knowing that he would.

He likes to talk.

There's never a response, but Dean feels the breeze rustle through his hair and watches the flowers bob when bees come to them and stares as the windmill keeps turning, turning, turning. And he imagines that Cas is replying—the windmill is the tilted head, the bobbing flowers are a gentle smile, the breeze is whatever words Dean wants to hear at the time.

Sometimes, it's almost like he's there.

Trial and Tribulations of Raising a Nephilim  by  Sickandtiredofyou Words: 14,910   Chapters: 6

Dean has far too much on his plate, losing his mom, his best friend and now being a single parent to a newborn nephilim.

In which Jack is an actual newborn instead of a teenager.

post season 13

dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d's to the destination)  by  sobsicles           Words:     108,427     Chapters:     4

Freedom is just one adjustment after the next.

Cas hums again. "I think you already have. It's been months since everything settled. All that's left to do is...get used to it, and perhaps—" His voice stalls out, uncharacteristically, and his gaze roams Dean's face with intensity. When he speaks next, his tone is a little raw. "Perhaps what one does with peace is...whatever they want."

"What if I don't even know what that is?" Dean grumbles, arching an eyebrow in challenge. "'Cause I know damn well you don't just mean good food and a good bed and time in Baby, not simple wants like that. You mean—ya know, the big things, the wants we didn't get to have before."

"Yes," Cas agrees. "If you're not sure, figure it out."

"Easier said than done."

Reasons to read this:

Dean reads a story that ends like despair and his reaction is FUCK THAT

Cas wears Dean's hoodie

Jack is a toddler

The Jack and Claire sibling energy we deserve

Eileen being awesome and pulling pranks with Dean while Sam thinks she's an angel

Sam knows

YOUR HONOR THEY'RE IN LOVE

First Date  by  aeli_kindara Words: 8,968    Chapters: 1

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

Also known as the Dean Winchester makes the first move fic.

season 14

Broken Road  by  thegeminisage Words:     109,629     Chapters:     7

A 14.13 Lebanon rewrite. When Dean uses a wish-granting pearl to try and kill the archangel Michael before he can escape the cage in Dean's head, they instead wind up with a newly-resurrected John Winchester.

It's been more than a decade since John died, and a lot has changed: Mary is alive, Sam and Dean have what passes for a proper home in the Men of Letters Bunker, and they're living with angels. John doesn't know angels are real, he doesn't know about the fragile new relationship between Dean and Castiel, and most of all, he doesn't know that Dean said yes to Michael, or that Dean's plan to defeat Michael would send him to a fate worse than death.

Now Dean must contend with both his father asking questions he can't answer, and his loved ones learning about the darker truths of his childhood, all while constantly battling the archangel trapped inside him. But Dean coming to terms with his history may be the difference between this being the beginning of a journey—or the end.

post season 15

fools and pilgrims  by  lagaudiere Words: 31,904     Chapters: 2

Claire shows up at the bunker a day before Dean was planning to leave, with her hair cut short and a fresh tattoo on her left arm under a bandage. Chuck is dead, Jack has given up his godlike powers, and Cas is back from the Empty, which doesn't make it any easier for Dean to talk to him. Suddenly finding himself in a world without monsters, supernatural forces, or any need for hunters, Dean's solution is to go on a road trip. Claire tags along.

Dean-Claire mirror fic post Despair

what's missing is found (our souls can exhale now)  by  sobsicles Words: 27,403

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

canon(?) au  (Hunters and Men of Letters)

Dean Winchester's Secret (Angel) Boyfriend  by  reluctantabandon, Winter_of_our_Discontent Words: 11,191     Chapters: 1

Dean Winchester isn't exactly a team player. So when he starts mentioning a new Hunting partner, Ellen and Jo Harvelle aren't sure whether they should be worried or relieved.

But they're starting to get the feeling there's something important Dean's not telling them about Cas...

Shot Through The Heart  by  peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim) Words: 11,191     Chapters: 1

Dean is a hunter.

Castiel is a Man of Letters.

And even though they have to work together on a regular basis, there is not much sympathy between them. Castiel thinks Dean too brash and reckless while Dean in return sees nothing more in the other man than a rude asshole with an obsessive love for books and a truly terrible fashion sense.

But fate clearly has a funny way of throwing those two together over and over again.

And somewhere along the way feelings change into something neither of them would have expected.

[zoopzopp]

A post for some BAMF Izuku fics <3 (more of these will be added and the list will be updated as i read them)

Fics i've read:

The Secret Ingredient is Crime- Izuku only had a whole month to further prove himself worthy of Yuuei's golden acceptance, and he was going to do whatever it took to make it in. Yuuei would never truly know what hit them until it was too late. (The secret crime AU in it entirety is fucking amazing and what wouldn't i give to read more stuff with it)

Deku the Villain Hunter: Support Hero - We all know the story: After being told he couldn't be a Hero by All Might, Midoriya Izuku still wandered over to a supervillain attack where he could save Bakugou Katsuki. But what if he had made the other turn? The answer is a butterfly effect that would lead him on a path to paving his own future. A path of revenge, finding his own moral compass, and doing the impossible. (OKAY MANY THOUGHTS. Very cool story and aspects. I binged it overnight and lost a bit of sleep the next night as well.)

The Story of How Midoriya Izuku Asserted His Dominance (And Traumatized Japan) - The Sports Festival was supposed to be a break from stress. Shouta should have known there is no such thing as a break with his class.

making it right (for real this time) - - Izuku is a support course student at UA, and Katsuki's neighbor, best friend, and former bullying victim. After Izuku's performance at the sports festival, Katsuki realizes something. He has to make things right. -

Hero Fall (UA Civil War Exercise) - It's now the end of the first year of UA for our students. Nedzu had decided to bring back the annual Heroes vs Villain fight. The fight shall last 5 days and the villain leader is Izuku Midoriya, with the commanding officer of the hero team being Katsuki Bakugo. But, what happens when Izuku is left alone?

Hero Class Civil Warfare - Heroes lead by Bakugo. Villains lead by Midoriya. Seven days prep time. Three days for Izuku Midoriya to show why they should be glad he's not a real villain.

"I Didn't Know You Had It In You." - Midoriya goes feral rage mode in his fight against Overhaul. The beat down still happens, but with Eri no longer at his back, he gets more violent. One For All reacts in an interesting way and Midoriya commits a terrible and unheroic act - the cold blooded murder and maiming of Chisaki Kai. Shigaraki is there to watch it all unfold.

Plan C meets Plan A - Even if All Might is right and Izuku can't be a hero, Izuku refuses to be useless. So Izuku uses his analysis skills to develop Plan C: Consulting in order to help the heroes. Eraserhead is impressed by this mysterious new consultant but alarm bells in Deku's behaviour quickly have Aizawa recruiting help for Plan A: Adoption.

Q. A. B. - One month after @hawks_unofficial's initial viral post, the blog titled "Quirk Analysis Blog for the Future", otherwise known as "Q. A. B.", has gone from an average of 10 views per post to an average of 20,000 views per post. Midoriya Izuku does not know how to view the impressions analysis for his suddenly popular blog, and only notices that sometimes, people actually comment on his posts now. He does not google himself or his moniker and thus does not see the rise in online articles and speculation. He is unaware that the "kyuu-ei-bee" he begins to hear about in passing refers to his own blog. He does not have a Twitter account. At the time, Midoriya Izuku is 15 years old.

How to murder your father - It's dangerous to be a bad father when you have a life insurance. Just saying.

Negation - Passive Quirks are a bitch. Izuku is reasonably done with the situation.

Thanks For Your Support - Izuku has the talent and the intellect to be the first Quirkless pro hero, and everyone at UA knows it. Unfortunately, his desire to become a hero has long since been buried thanks to the words of his childhood friend and childhood hero.

Policed To Meet You - Izuku takes All Might's advice and becomes a cop.

Vigilante Work And Other After School Activities - Izuku is a vigilante, Aizawa likes cats and therefore kids who help cats, and sometimes breaks must be forced upon overachieving teenagers.

When the Commission Lost Total Control - The hero polls have a small part where one can suggest their own hero. This is done just because of the amount of heroes is to great to name them all. This creates a little problem for the commission because a vigilante is assumed to be a brand new hero by the public- and ranks pretty high. Because of that, this vigilante now is too popular to hide and they can't come out with their mistake either! Think of the chaos that would bring.

Izuku being Badass but like in not that grand of a way but still tearing-people-down-in-some-way kind of way

He Was Quirkless - Midoriya get's sick of discrimination against the quirkless and decides to do something about it. It leads to some interesting situations. A trilogy.

bloody, but unbowed- It's Advocacy Week for Yuuei's hero students and it gives Midoriya Izuku a lot to think about about what kind of hero he wants Deku to be.

Called Out - When Izuku is hit by a quirk that will cause him to call out the first person to be rude to him on the way to school with every mistake they've made in the affected persons presence or have otherwise effected said affected person, Aizawa is in for a rough ride. In other words, with some help from a quirk, Izuku rakes Aizawa over the hot coals until he gives out. (a great fic but i've got mixed feelings on this one because on one hand, izuku is badass but on the other its Aizawa bashing and really like him skhdskdb so yea! Read it as per your tastes!!)

The time when everyone learned that izuku respects Bakugo more than all might. - I didn't like how Bakugo was tied up during the sports festival and so izuku didn't. Badass izuku roasted all might and midnight.

Villainous Sunshine - After an innocent question, Class 1-A learns just how terrifying Izuku's analysis is. Nedzu's along for the ride.

Never understand ( and you can't ) - Midoriya is sick and tried of his classmates bias and prejudice against the quirkless community and finally breaks

Mastermind: Strategist For Hire - Izuku Midoriya never got the chance to save Bakugo from the sludge villain and impress All Might. With his dream crushed, Izuku becomes bitter and angry. It also doesn't help that he faces discrimination at every turn. All he ever wanted was to be appreciated, so when the villains are the ones to recognize his talents rather than the heroes, well, Izuku just can't resist. He might as well help those who actually want him around. Mistakes were made, and now society must face a villain of their own making: Mastermind.

Malignance - Deku is far scarier than anyone gives him credit for.

Fics in my to read list which has/probably has BAMF izuku

Young Midoriya - Izuku Midoriya couldn't help himself when he saw someone in trouble. Even at 12 years old, his instincts drive him to help those in need. So when he sees Kacchan and his goons about to ambush another student, he has to step in, right? It's not like this hasn't happened before. What is different this time though, is that he's never had an audience that consisted of the Number One Hero.

Heroics and Other Things That Don't Require Superpowers - Izuku doesn't have a quirk. That's the long and short of it. After being told his whole life he can't be a hero, General Education at UA is the best he can hope for, right? Wrong. Dead Wrong. So super wrong that his best friend from Gen Ed, all of Class 1A and a whole mess of Pro Heroes are going to prove to him how wrong he is. Izuku has the makings of a hero, and his lack of a quirk only throws those qualities into starker relief. After all, who wants to be as strong as All Might when you can be the cleverest hero in the business?

Cases of More Than - Izuku is known as Deku online. He's an analyst of quirks, sometimes even working with the local detective, Tsukauchi, on a case. He meets new friends, builds a few relationships, and slowly crushes on his best friend. But then he's thrown into the General Studies Course at U.A. It doesn't help that All for One is showing an interest in him at all.

No Regret - In this world there is no hard set villain or hero. No victim and aggressor. Everyone is at fault for something and Izuku, with his own villain group, will make everyone pay. Even the bystanders who did nothing. This is what society gets for abandoning it's people. Deku will manipulate everyone and be the greatest villain, all so the world can be a better a place. With the stakes so high there is no time for regret.

We Are a Different Kind - Mirio doesn’t think he can be a hero anymore now that he’s quirkless, Izuku calls bullshit.

Live a Hero - "You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain." Or, you're raised a villain, rebel when you're nine, and fight against the odds to become a hero anyway. That's how it is in Izuku's case.

Prodigal - After being convinced to give One for All to Mirio, Midoriya Izuku must rebuild his shattered dreams with bloody hands.

Two Sides of the Same Coin: Vigilante - Izuku is orphaned at the age of four and is sent into the Japanese Foster Care System. After multiple failed attempts at finding a forever home and some unfortunate circumstance, he ends up on the streets. Eventually, the vigilante, Deku appears. Eraserhead must gain his trust to bring Deku back to the right side of the law. If he he does, however, the untrustful but pure-hearted boy may just be a bit more than Aizawa Shota can handle.

From Muddy Waters - - but the sleeve of his tracksuit was bulging, tearing and ripping and a mass of twisted flesh, nearly as big as the boy himself and nauseatingly familiar (the arm of the man that had torn a hole in his side with a grin and left him a frail shadow of himself) swung forward and slammed into the flat face of the giant robot. Izuku wants to be a hero more than anything.

Pieces are easily sacrificed when they're nameless - Nobody ever thought quirkless, weak, weird Midoriya Izuku was dangerous. This perception carried over to his first year high school class, because really despite the super strength Midoriya didn't have it in him to be dangerous. That was their first mistake. And the one that would see them fall.

Not exactly BAMF izuku but i just wanted to rec these fics <3

In the shade of a sunflower - Being biologically quirkless came more with an extra pinkie joint in the toes and a stunning lack of vestiges mutations. It came with smaller things, like extra teeth that did virtually nothing, exploding organs, and weird exposed nerves that weren't designed to feel pain.

Throat Punch - In which Aizawa attempts to teach Izuku how to use various battle tactics and it goes just about as well as you'd expect. At least Shinsou is there with his fantastic commentary. (just a fun lil thing where izuku is really stronk and trains with shinsou and aizawa)

So Be It - He could still do good. Midoriya could show them all what a hero without powers looked like. If he had to break a few rules to do it, so be it. So be it… (as stated not exactly BAMF but its a vigilante izuku so ye-)

Never Enter a Drinking Game with Bakugo or Izuku - Izuku walks in on Kirishima and Kaminari having a drinking competition (no alcohol involved). And it reminds him of an old story.

5 Times Midoriya Taught Class 1A about Memes and 1 Time they Found a Villain that Understood Them - After being diagnosed as quirkless, Midoriya gets into pre-guirk media and finds memes. He shares them with Class 1A. Aizawa doesn't get paid enough for this. (THIS FIC???? FUCKING AWESOME. LITERALLY WHAT I WANTED TO SEE)

Midoriya: JD Version - Nedzu has decided that a play should be put on so that the students can learn how to "go undercover", an idea which Aizawa thinks is utter bullshit. They're putting on Heathers and when Nedzu chooses to cast Midoriya for JD, everyone objects. Midoriya is a much better actor than they thought.

that is a lot!! I hope you have fun reading it!!!