#if you wanna send me hate just hit the block button instead

[fellthemarvelous]

Aziraphale hate makes my brain hurt.

Like let's be really fuckin' for real here.

Neurodivergent fans have repeatedly said that Aziraphale is autistic coded. I agree with them. I have never been diagnosed but I wonder about myself. If only I could get a doctor to take me seriously enough to test me for it, but alas, I'm a 43-year-old woman living in the good ole US of A.

Those with religious trauma have repeatedly said that they identify with him as well. I'm one of those people. I endured 12 years of Catholic schools and just as much time being taught a very black and white view of things that I've had to spend more than 20 goddamn fucking years working to unlearn.

I find that my views as a survivor of religious abuse are often dismissed because people keep wanting to say "Aziraphale doesn't have religious trauma." Yes, thank you, I get that, but unless you've been indoctrinated and brainwashed into a very black and white view of the world, you probably don't understand the kind of feelings Aziraphale's onscreen experiences evoke in so many of us. Heaven might not be real, but the feelings of "God is always watching" still stick with me today even though I no longer believe in God. I have entirely denounced Christianity because of my own personal experience, and I refuse to allow people to try and guilt me or shame me for trauma that I didn't ask for. I wasn't given a choice.

As a child I was told that God was real and always watching everything you do (just like Santa Claus) and can hear everything you say and knows everything you are thinking. Do you know what I learned to do in order to cope with this overwhelming and anxiety-inducing information as a small child? I learned to censor my thoughts. I never spoke up, and I have always felt like I was putting on a show for people because I had to be who I was told to be or I would get into trouble.

Aziraphale said "poverty is a virtue" during The Resurrectionists, and as someone who grew up in the Bible belt and went to private schools, I was taught this very same shit by the Catholic church. He learned in that very same episode that "poverty is a virtue" is actually a tool of oppression to keep the poor poor and the wealthy wealthy. I know we all watched the episode. He went into that episode believing what he said, but by the end of it he knew it was actually utter bullshit. Aziraphale is not ignorant. He's highly intelligent, and he has never been too proud to admit when he has been wrong. He accepts that the information he learned before is not matching up with reality.

And it's so obvious some of you have zero experience with that type of indoctrination because of how very little empathy you show Aziraphale for his "mistake" of "choosing Heaven over Crowley" and "making Crowley sad" so clearly Aziraphale must somehow be "abusive" and "manipulative" and "selfish" and "self-centered" because he didn't choose to run away with Crowley at the end of season two.

First of all.

FIRST OF ALL...

Aziraphale has a mind of his own.

Aziraphale is always going to try and do what is right.

Aziraphale is an angel. He's a being of love. And the reason he's so "bad" at being an angel is because he actually wants to protect humanity. He has always loved humanity. He repeatedly has to contend with what is "right" versus what is "good" and "wrong" versus "evil". Yeah, he has flaws. He's an angel, not a goddamn fucking saint. He has lived on Earth for more than 6,000 years. He has seen everything. He loves doing human things.

He's obsessed with magic. It makes him so happy. He's not very good at it...well not when he's trying to put on a show for Crowley.

He chose to learn French the hard way, so even though he knows every single language in the world, he chooses to be mediocre at French. Something that annoys and amuses Crowley at the same time.

He loves to dance even though angels aren't supposed to dance, and dancing with Crowley was what he wanted the most.

He owns a bookshop and refuses to sell any of his books because they are books he's had for as long as there have been books. He will chase customers away from his collection, and Crowley understands how much they mean to Aziraphale because he refuses to sell any when Aziraphale leaves him in charge.

He and Crowley have been speaking to each other in coded language for more than 6,000 years. They have to be very careful about what they say because Heaven and Hell are always watching.

Heaven has photographs of Crowley and Aziraphale sitting or standing together throughout history. Hell had one photo of Crowley and Aziraphale actually working together and it was Aziraphale's quick thinking and how good he actually is at sleight of hand tricks that managed to get that photo out of Furfur's hands so he wouldn't be able to turn Crowley over to the Dark Council.

Aziraphale saved Crowley from being taken to Hell again. He wasn't able to save Crowley from Hell in Edinburgh, but he sure as heck managed to save Crowley from Hell during WWII. He took Crowley to his bookshop and showed Crowley that he stole the picture from Furfur. He saved Crowley.

You get that, right?

Aziraphale SAVED Crowley.

People always talk about how it's "always Crowley saving Aziraphale" because apparently heroic acts are only heroic when they are grand gestures. The sleight of hand wasn't heroic at all, am I right? It wasn't sparkly and showy. It wasn't interesting enough, therefore not heroic. At least that's all I'm hearing when people start with their "blah Aziraphale deserves to suffer because I have no imagination or ability to understand the media in front of me blah", and all these reasons he deserves to suffer is because Crowley almost got hurt.

Aziraphale did that without flinching and I watch that part closely every single time. He's not scared for himself. He's scared for Crowley, and he managed to hold onto that photograph. He did not fail Crowley. He protected Crowley.

And so here's another thing that we like to point out. The way that Aziraphale, an angel who is effeminate and male presenting, an angel who is soft and full of love, an angel who is kind and forgiving because he has empathy and compassion, is somehow painted as abusive and manipulative. He's not violent, but he could easily fuck up your world. He doesn't use his powers. We have no idea how powerful he is because we only ever see him do small acts. He's used to hiding. It's the only way he has ever been able to protect Crowley.

And I'm not saying that Aziraphale has actually saved Crowley before means that Crowley hasn't also saved Aziraphale. Like, you get that those are not mutually exclusive and their relationship is not transactional, right? They have spent their entire existence protecting each other but never actually getting to be together because Heaven and Hell are always watching.

Yeah, Crowley fell. We all know this. We are aware of this. He was the serpent of Eden. He gave humanity the knowledge of free will.

But what we don't talk about is what Aziraphale gave humanity.

What did he give them?

We all know what it is!

Let's say it together!

He gave Adam and Eve his flaming sword because it was dangerous outside the garden and Eve was pregnant and she was already having a really bad day. He showed them compassion and gave them his extremely powerful angelic weapon so they would stand a chance on the outside of the garden. He gave humanity the gift of compassion. It's just unfortunate that his flaming sword became a weapon of War.

And then what did he do after that?

Ooooh, yeah, that's right.

God asked him about it and he straight up lied to her and pretended he had no idea where he'd managed to misplace it. She didn't say anything after that. He told Crowley the truth though. He told Crowley the truth even though Crowley fell.

Yeah, we know Aziraphale has done some really fucking questionable things. He and Crowley both suck at passing for human in front of observant people like Nina. They're not human. They are still learning, but they managed to experience human history together despite being on opposite sides and their experiences with humanity are what has shaped them into the compassionate and loving duo they are now. One of them is not better from the other.

This, my friends, is what we call meeting in the middle. It's why shades of gray is so important. Aziraphale constantly breaks the rules. Crowley refused to play by Heaven's rules. It's the reason he fell. He doesn't play by Hell's rules either. These two dorks figured out how to cancel each others' miracles out throughout human history in order to have more time learning about humanity and each other because working all day every day sucks when there are so many new things to learn and experience with the people you love.

We know Crowley and Aziraphale both love each other. Neither of them are good at hiding the hearts stars in their eyes.

But here's what's really fucking annoying about the Aziraphale hate.

Aziraphale was already crying when Crowley grabbed him and kissed him. Aziraphale is trying so very hard to do the right thing. He loves Crowley. He does. But he also has a duty to humanity, and he has taken that job very seriously since the creation of Adam and Eve. He sent them out into the world with a flaming sword so they would have a chance at surviving beyond the walls of the garden.

And he knows that Something Terrible is going to happen and he spent all of second season trying to figure out what that Something Terrible was while trying to have some sort of more honest and open relationship with Crowley, but again, they aren't human, they are a demon and an angel approaching life from opposite sides who met in the middle and fell in love with humanity together.

He wants more than anything to tell Crowley how he feels about him, but he wants to do something grand for Crowley because Crowley has always been grand and dramatic and sexy and a little bit scary.

Crowley is impulsive and has a temper and sometimes says the wrong thing but he has always trusted Aziraphale because Aziraphale gave him a chance even after he fell. Aziraphale chose to shelter him instead of smiting him while they stood on top of that wall. He knew he was supposed to kill Crowley, but oops, he gave his sword away to the humans so he didn't really have anything to kill him with and Crowley is the one who created nebulas. The Pillars of Creation is Crowley's work and Aziraphale was there to witness that, but he watched Crowley more than he watched the nebula. He witnessed the pure joy on Crowley's face when he said "let there be light" as a nebula full of colors exploded before their eyes. He was fascinated by Crowley.

But Aziraphale is going back to Heaven even though he has made it perfectly clear he absolutely has no desire to go back to Heaven. He told the Metatron this during their conversation. He spoke these words out loud. They exist.

But then The Metatron said this....

The Metatron. The very same angel who told Aziraphale in season one "to speak to me is to speak to the Almighty." He's the boss. He's the big guy. He's used to existing as a giant head and he had to give himself a body so he wouldn't stand out on Earth. And he knows that Aziraphale and Crowley have been working together since the beginning. He knows they worked together to prevent Armageddon in season one, and now he's made it clear he knows they were working together long before that. And let's face it, Aziraphale really wants to know what this Something Terrible is that Gabriel is running from so he can try to prevent it from happening.

It makes sense that he would want to take Crowley to Heaven with him because he would be able to keep Hell from getting their hands on him again. Aziraphale hates it in Heaven. He doesn't want to go, but Something Terrible is happening and Metatron isn't taking no for an answer, and maybe Heaven won't be so bad if Crowley is there with him. At least they can fix Heaven together.

But Crowley can't go back. We all get that. We don't blame him for saying no. It doesn't change anything.

Something Terrible is about to happen and Aziraphale has to figure out what it is. He wants to change Heaven.

He is fully aware that Heaven sucks. He still has faith in God. His faith isn't in Heaven. He deserted his platoon in season one and threw himself back to Earth so he could figure out how to make sure the war between Heaven and Hell doesn't happen.

But see, here's the thing. Heaven is at the top. Heaven has all the resources. Heaven is responsible for the creation of Hell. Heaven is empty and Hell is overpopulated. Aziraphale knows this. Crowley knows this. It's obvious every time we see either place. Both sides are desperate to go to war and will not hesitate to destroy humanity in the process. This is the opposite of what Crowley and Aziraphale want for humanity. If anyone can change Heaven, it's Aziraphale. He's the only one up there who gives a shit about humanity as far as we know. No one else is going to speak on humanity's behalf.

Some of us are so busy getting mad at Aziraphale for going back to Heaven and giving Crowley a Big Sad. Newsflash: Crowley is not the main character of Good Omens. Aziraphale and Crowley are equals, yet we wanna hold Aziraphale to higher standards because he's an angel, and when he makes mistakes it's proof that he's the bad guy.

Holy mother of all things that trigger my religious trauma, let me tell you. I spent my entire life hating myself every time I made mistakes. I've had to teach myself that just because I mess up sometimes doesn't mean I'm bad. It means I'm human. I still struggle with it. I probably always will. So when you say that Aziraphale deserves to be punished for breaking Crowley's heart, you not only ignore that Aziraphale's heart is also broken, you're saying he deserves to be punished for doing what he thinks is right.

Wanting to change Heaven for the better is not a bad thing.

And some of y'all wanna see him suffer for going back into the lion's den that is Heaven, knowing that he is already an outcast, that they have already tried to kill him once, knowing that he is a deserter, that he has been lying to Heaven about a lot of things, and you still think he's blinded by Heaven? You think he's just so naive and that's the only reason he's going back. He doesn't show his emotions the same way Crowley does so it means he doesn't care as much. He's expected to consider Crowley's feelings over his own when making choices. Like holy shit if all of that hasn't defined my experience as a woman with religious trauma in this fucking society. He's expected to be subservient to Crowley and if he doesn't do what Crowley wants then he's being unreasonable and illogical.

What the actual fuck, y'all.

Like seriously.

I'm sick of this bullshit. I had to step away from this fandom because of how toxic some people in this fandom are. It's not chasing me away, but the fact that I chose to hang out in a a more toxic fandom that is already notorious for being really toxic over a fandom that claims to be more open-minded and welcoming should probably tell you something.

It gave me a lot of perspective, and yeah, I'm still gonna speak up against the bullshit Aziraphale hate.

People are entitled to their opinions, but the Aziraphale hate isn't an opinion. It's just ableist, misogynistic garbage. At this point we all know y'all say these extreme things about Aziraphale because y'all get more joy out of the harm and alienation it is causing others.

Keep being loudly wrong, but if you think I'm not entitled to challenge shitty-ass, harmful, hateful discourse, bite my ass.

I'm not the one who lost the plot in this fandom.

[calpalirwin]

Think of Me

Summary: You hope the war doesn’t make Bucky forget about you. 

A/N: I’m deep in my T-Swift phase again. Deal with it 😎

Word count: 3k

And away, and away we go!

__

You made pleasant conversation with the bartender as you sat on your stool. “You think this is the night a handsome man finally asks me to dance?” you pondered aloud.

“If they do, will you stop bothering me?” Charlie asked in a playful tone.

“What would you do if I wasn’t here bothering you?”

“Probably my actual job before the boss fires me.”

You laughed, then sighed, drumming your fingers on the bartop. “Seriously though, Charlie. Is it me? You would tell me if it was me, right?”

The bartender shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think I’m qualified to answer that.”

“Well, why are you friends with me?”

“You tip well.”

“Ha-ha,” you deadpanned, throwing your straw wrapper at him. 

“Look, it could very well be that you’re the only dame in this place talking with the bartender. That doesn’t exactly make a fella feel confident in approaching you.”

“Oh, so it’s you? Good to know,” you laughed again.

“I am very intimidating,” he winked, puffing out his chest as his eyes spotted a man walking your way. “But apparently not intimidating enough,” he whispered, nodding his head behind you before going down the bar to help another customer. 

“Charlie!” you hissed as someone behind you cleared their throat. “Excuse me, miss?”

You turned on your stool to look at the stranger. He was dressed simply in a crisp button down shirt tucked into dark dress pants, a suit jacket draped over his arm. His brown hair was cut neatly atop his head, and his face was clean-shaven, giving you an unfiltered view of his strong jawline. Soft blue eyes searched your face as they waited for an answer, equally soft pink lips parted slightly on a perfect mouth. “Yes?” you asked, smiling at the man.

“I was wondering if you’d care for a dance.”

“With whom?”

“Me?” he asked, pink dusting his cheeks.

“And who’s me?”

“James,” he introduced, offering you his hand.

Instead of shaking it, you used it to rise to your feet, pulling him towards the dance floor.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” he laughed, happily trailing after you. “Do I get to know your name, pretty girl?”

“Let’s see how well you dance first, James,” you winked, spinning slightly to face him, looping your hands behind his neck.

James rested his hands lightly on your hips, guiding the both of you to the beat of the music the band was playing.

“So, James,” you said, tilting your head upwards to look at him. “This isn’t a pity dance is it?”

“A pity dance?” he questioned in confusion.

“Well yes. It’s quite strange, after all. I complain to Charlie about how much I’d like for someone to ask me to dance, and suddenly you appear? Tad coincidental, isn’t it?”

“It is because I can assure you of two things. 1.) I don’t ask girls to dance out of pity. 2.) I’ve been trying to pluck up the courage for the better part of an hour, from where I was sitting over there,” he nodded his head towards a booth near the back of the bar, “so there’s no way I could’ve heard whatever you were talking to Charlie about.”

“Good,” you decided, liking his answer. “You should ask me to dance more often,” you added as the song ended and you unlooped your hands from his neck, his own hands staying on your waist.

“Will you tell me your name if I do?”

“Y/N.”

“Keep dancing with me, Y/N.”

~~~

You kept dancing with James right up until the night before he left for basic training. “I’m gonna miss you, James,” you told him, as you leaned your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat mark time.

“3 months will go faster than you think, and we can write all the time.”

“3 months, and then you go off to war for God knows how long.”

“But I’ll get furloughed for a bit before I leave. And then we can keep writing to each other.”

“You won’t forget about me will you?”

“How could I forget you when you’re all I ever think about?”

Heat flooded your cheeks as you looked up at him, “You really think of me?”

“All the time,” he nodded.

“Thinks about you, talks about you. It’s all Buck does,” Steve teased from his seat nearby, causing the three of you to laugh.

“Buck,” you repeated, the nickname foreign on your tongue no matter how often you had heard Steve call James “Buck” since you met the smaller man. “I don’t think I could ever call you anything other than ‘James’.”

“That’s fine. I like it when you call me ‘James’.”

“That’s a high compliment considering he usually hates being called ‘James.’ Makes him feel like he’s about to get into trouble.”

“Cuz usually when someone’s calling me ‘James,’ I am in trouble.”

“That’s because you are trouble,” both you and Steve told him.

“Mmm, but you love me that way,” James told you specifically.

“That I do,” you agreed wholeheartedly.

“3 months,” he promised. “3 months and we’ll be right back here. And until then I’ll be missing you like crazy, and thinking about you every day.”

“You better, James Barnes.”

“How could I do anything else? But you two gotta promise me something.”

“Anything,” you nodded while Steve answered with “Promise what, Buck?”

“That you’ll look after each other for me. And that you won’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

“That’s two promises,” you pointed out while Steve asked, “How can we when you’re taking all the stupid with you?”

James laughed. “I’m serious. Look after each other and nothing stupid. Promise me.”

“We promise.”

~~~

Dearest James,

Hope basic training is treating you well. Things are going okay here. Steve won’t admit it, but he misses you a lot. We still go to Charlie’s Bar, but without you it doesn’t feel the same. Even when Steve tries to be nice and asks me to dance. But dancing’s not the same if it’s not with you. Hope you’re thinking of us.

All my love,

Y/N

You pressed your lips to the paper, staining it with a lipstick mark, before sealing the letter.

Dearest Y/N,

It’s hot and miserable here. And there’s no pretty girls to dance with. At least you have a dancing partner. Although, I wouldn’t recommend dancing with Steve. Don’t tell him, but he’s lousy at it. But lousy dancing is still better than no dancing, and even if it’s not the same, you should try because I know how happy dancing makes you. Just be sure to save me a dance for when I get home.

Thinking of you always,

James

You inhaled the spritz of his cologne that clung to the letter, clutching the paper tightly in your hands.

~~~

You sat quietly next to Steve in the dark movie theater, watching the advertisement for the war on the screen. “Who cares?” a voice a few rows up scoffed at the screen. “Play the movie already.”

You and Steve shared a look, and you shook your head as Steve leaned forward slightly. “Hey, you wanna show some respect?” he asked in a whisper.

“Let’s go! Get on with it! Hey, just start the cartoon!” the man continued to yell, causing more people to look his way.

“Hey, you wanna shut up?” Steve tried again, making his voice louder.

The man rose from his seat, turning to look at you and Steve. “Steve, don’t,” you pleaded.

“You wanna take this outside, pal?” the man asked.

“I’d like for you to go outside, so I can watch my movie in peace, yes,” Steve answered.

“C’mon, tough guy, let’s go then.”

“Steve!” you hissed as both men headed for the exit. Reluctantly, you got up to follow. “This has just been a misunderstanding,” you tried to defuse, shielding your eyes from the sunshine outside the theater. “Let’s just all go back inside a- Oh!” Your sentence ended abruptly in a gasp as the man punched Steve square in the face, sending him clattering into some trash cans cluttering the alley. “Okay, that was unnecessary.”

“It’s fine, Y/N,” Steve told you as he staggered to his feet, raising his fists defensively. “Go back inside.”

“You should listen to your boyfriend, sweetheart,” the man sneered, hitting Steve again.

“We’re friends,” both you and Steve said, as Steve grabbed a trash can lid to use as a shield. “And you’re both being ridiculous. You were being very rude inside, and all my friend did was ask you to stop. There’s no reason for you to h- Oh, my God!” you shrieked in outrage and shock as the man ripped away the trash can lid and hit Steve for a third time.

“Your friend just doesn’t know when to give up, does he, sweetheart?”

“Says the man who just hit him three times for no good reason!”

“I can do this all day,” Steve panted, blood smeared in the corner of his mouth from a busted lip. He raised his fists, taking his own swing at the man who easily blocked it and hit Steve for the fourth time.

As Steve fell face first into the trash cans, you shrieked again, hoping someone could hear the disagreement and could offer some help.

“Hey!” A man in a soldier’s uniform came jogging down the alleyway, grabbing the man by his bicep and pulling him backwards, away from Steve. “Pick on someone your own size.”

“James!” you cried out happily.

“One second, doll,” he told you as the man took a swing at him and missed. James wasted no time in hitting the man back, then kicking him as he hobbled away. “You know, sometimes I think you like getting punched,” James told Steve, helping the smaller man back onto his feet.

“I had him on the ropes,” Steve said.

“No, you didn’t,” both you and James chuckled.

“When did you get back?” Steve asked.

“This morning. Was on my way to Charlie’s Bar when I saw neither of you were home.”

“When do you go back?” you asked.

“Can I get a proper hello first?” he asked, flashing you a smile.

“I’ve missed you,” you confessed, crashing into him, and feeling his arms wrap around you tightly.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“How long do we have together?”

“I ship off to London next week.”

You sighed, your body slumping against his.

“Hey,” he soothed. “C’mon, don’t do that yet. We have a whole week first. Let’s make the best of it, hmm?”

“Okay,” you sniffed, giving him a nod. “Okay.”

“That’s my girl,” he beamed proudly. “Now c’mon. You owe me a dance. And an explanation for why you let Steve try to fight a man twice his size.”

“I tried to stop him,” you giggled, as you and James broke the hug, but he kept one of his arms still wrapped around.

“She did,” Steve agreed, coming to your defense. “But, that guy was out of line.”

“He was,” you confirmed. “Very rude.”

James chuckled. “What am I ever gonna do with the two of you, huh?”

~~~

While you and James spent every spare second of the week together, you found yourself wishing for more as you stood on the pier with him, the ship waiting to take him away. “Promise you’ll write when you can,” you said sternly as your bottom lip quivered.

“Of course,” he promised, his hands cradling your face, thumbs catching the stray tears as they fell.

“And that you’ll think of me all the time, and you’ll-” the words spilled from your mouth, before a sob broke free.

“I’ll come home,” he whispered, pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead. “And I’m gonna want to dance with my favorite girl when I come back. So you save me a dance, okay?”

The foghorn from the ship went off, signalling it was time to go. “Come home to me, or so help me, James, I swear-”

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he chuckled, pressing another kiss to your forehead, before looking over your shoulder at Steve. “Look after each other for me.”

Steve nodded, as you pressed your lips into James’ “I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.”

“I love you too, my favorite girl,” he said, giving you a searing kiss.

~~~

The letters were further and farther in between as James traveled with his regiment across Europe, which you supposed was the for the best as it meant he couldn’t tell how much you actually cried over him.

It got worse when Steve left in James’ footsteps, finding his own way to join the war effort despite all his rejections.

Brooklyn never felt so lonely, and passing Charlie’s Bar was a painful stab in your side. So you packed what few belongings you had and moved out of state, and away from the familiar streets that reminded you of him. You had the thought of writing a new letter, to send it that last address you had for James, so he would have your new one as well. But remembering how your last letter had gone unanswered, you didn’t wait to feel the hope and disappointment of waiting for the mail.

You settled into your new James-less life, the memories of the single summer you had shared living both in your head and in the shoebox of letters under your bed.

It was hard not to find it all bittersweet. A 4 month long affair spent mostly apart, but the nights spent dancing, or laying against his chest were still the best moments of your life. The greatest love story of your life with no clear ending. And as much as you moved on, you didn’t, still clinging on to the hope that’d he keep his word of coming back to you. After all, he’d always kept his word before.

When the war drew to a close, and stories of soldiers coming home started covering the front pages, you packed your things again, and moved back to Brooklyn. As you settled into your old apartment, you made yourself a promise that you’d give it a year. If you and James didn’t find each other after that, then you’d leave Brooklyn and never look back.

Part of you felt foolish as you walked the old familiar streets to James’ old apartment, a final letter clutched in your hand. There was no guarantee he was home, or even if this was his home anymore. Still, it was one of three places you trusted that he would go to if he had returned home.

You walked up to the familiar door, rapping lightly against it as you pushed the letter through the mail slot. You waited for a beat, listening for footsteps. Hearing nothing, you turned around, almost knocking into a man carrying a bag of groceries as you left the building, and headed for Charlie’s Bar.

“Y/N?!” Charlie called out in disbelief. “Is that really you?”

“Hi, Charlie,” you said, taking up your old seat on the stool at the bar. “How have things been?”

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Pouring drinks, and watching folks fall in love. I heard you moved out of Brooklyn after Buck and Steve headed to Europe.”

“I did. Just moved back the other day.”

“Forever hopeful, huh?”

“He found me here once. Think he can do it again?”

“Worth a shot.”

Meanwhile, after sidestepping a woman who almost knocked into him, James set a bag of groceries on his counter. Not remembering hearing his door click shut properly, he went back, noticing the white envelope on his floor. Frowning, he picked it up. Then, he stopped breathing as he recognized the looped scrawl of “James” decorating the back of the envelope. With shaking fingers, he tore it open.

Dearest James,

When you think of dancing, I hope you think of my favorite song. Maybe you’ll turn your radio on, and it’ll take you back to that place. I hope it does.

When you think of happiness, I hope you think of that little black dress, and my head on your chest.

Mostly, I hope you still think of me the same way I still think of you.

Am I still your favorite girl?

Y/N

The stamp of your lipstick was placed next to your name. James blinked, having to read it a second time, not believing it the first time. Then, he was cramming the letter in his pocket and running out of the apartment, and across Brooklyn.

First he went to your apartment, knuckles rapping wildly against your door. “Y/N! It’s me! It’s James! C’mon, answer the door!” he called out, chest heaving as he continued to pound on the door.

The door next to yours opened instead, and a woman that wasn’t you looking at him curiously. “Everything alright, sir?”

“The girl who lives here. Have you seen her?”

“She left about forty minutes ago.”

James slammed his fist into your door, swearing under his breath. “C’mon, Y/N, where are you?” he asked himself, begging his mind to give him the answer. The letter! The place! What was the place? Think, think! “Oh, please still be there,” he prayed, before he took off running again.

James was sure his heart was going to jump from his chest as he pushed open the door to Charlie’s Bar, palms resting against his thighs as he doubled over to catch his breath. When he straightened, he was hit with a wave of deja vu, spotting you sitting on your barstool talking with Charlie, your laugh ringing out. With a breathless grin, he walked over. “Excuse me, miss? I was wondering if you’d care for a dance.”

“With whom?” you asked, turning to take James in, a playful smile on your face as tears glistened in your eyes.

“Me?”

“And who’s me?”

“The man who’s always thinking about you because you’re his favorite girl.”

“I’ve missed you, James.”

“I’ve missed you too, doll,” he said, grabbing your hand in his. “Now come dance with me.”

__

Tag List

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[ushidoux]

Birthday Boy - Kuroo x Reader

Summary: Office man Kuroo wants the usual for his birthday. (~1.4k words)

Warnings: nsfw, fem!reader, public sex, office relationships

A/N: Kuroo annoys me but I can see the appeal. Happy birthday Kuroo!

---

You typed the last sentence of your business proposal for Friday, taking an extra bit of satisfaction in typing the last period before hitting the save button, then took a deep breath before leaning back in your chair. With one additional thing checked off your list for today, you made a quick check at the clock next to you to check how much longer you had until you could leave this place and move on with your life.

20 minutes left. You could do this.

“Didn’t you forget something today?”

Almost a bit startled, you looked up to see the company’s vice president, Tetsuro Kuroo, grinning down at you slyly, chin perched over the edge of the cubicle. You hated that he was tall enough to do that despite the fact that the cubicle walls were higher than typical - it felt like he had special access to you somehow.

You smiled politely, even though you and he both knew you couldn’t exactly stand him - in fact, you had made it pretty clear a couple months ago that you thought he was somewhat of a prick in the corner of an office party, and miraculously had kept your job (sleepless nights were finally behind you and you would never get so drunk at a company event again).

“Whatever do you mean, Mr. Tetsuro?” You said with mock extreme professionalism, as you printed out your proposal and rose to get to the noisy printer located outside of your small office space.

He leaned against the wall, smiling at you as you passed him.

“It’s my birthday, of course,” he said, now following you leisurely into the copy room, and you could feel the hairs on your neck stand on end as he stepped just outside of sexual harassment distance. “Where’s my present?”

You pulled your stack of papers out of the printer, shrugging off the irritation building inside you and went to focus on stapling copies of your day’s work together.

“Happy birthday,” you offered passively.

He stood beside you, grabbing another stapler to help you with your task uninvited.

“Why thank you, Ms. ___. I was waiting to hear good wishes from you. It was all I waited for all day, in fact,” he said, with a furtive glance at you that you pretended not to see.

“Don’t worry, I don’t need help,” you insisted. Before you could reach over, he nudged you playfully with his hip, blocking you out of his way. 

“You never need anything, Mrs. Independent,” Kuroo teased with a laugh, “but don’t worry, I got you.”

Before you could protest and snatch the sheets of his hand, he raised the sheets of paper higher than you could reach, forcing you to have to jump once or twice, stopping only once you were in a flustered mess, embarrassed by the fact that you were actually jumping in a pair of heels and a skirt in public.

“You are so fucking annoying! Do you know that?” You huffed finally in frustration, now standing completely still despite seething with annoyance. “Just go home, don’t you have someone new on your “hit and quit” list anyway?!”

Before the words left your mouth, you regretted them ever coming out and you whispered a short “Shit” under your breath as Kuroo’s eyes grew wide and devilish. You’d triggered him in just the right and wrong way. You glanced quickly at the door to ensure no one was outside to see what had just happened and what was about to happen, then considered making a quick run for it because yes, you had just given this sexy asshole ammunition and yes, he was absolutely going to lose it.

As expected, Kuroo blocked your way out of the room with quick side steps to the left and to the right, making your heart start to pound in your chest, and finally after a quick look outside as well to clear the surroundings, he held you close in his arms.

“Oh, it looks like someone’s been a bit jealous…,” he crooned, rocking you back and forth softly first before as he released you and backed into the open door, quickly and smoothly locking the door behind him. “So jealous, you won’t even wish me a happy birthday, my little bunny?”

Fuck.

“Kuroo, don’t,” you whispered under your breath, but he was already walking towards you, eagerly loosening his tie, and by all that was good, you were going to let him do whatever he wanted even if it was against your better judgement.

He started by backing you into the wall by the copy-printer, planting a soft kiss on your lips, then pecking down your jawline to your bosom, his hands steadying themselves on your hips hugged by the classic but quite form-fitting pencil skirt you had decided on wearing that morning.

“Don’t what?” He breathed into the crook of your neck, as slender fingers started to unbutton your blouse, giving him access to the soft pillows of your breasts and pert nipples.

“W-we’re in public… not... not here.”  You were already starting to forget your protests as his lips closed around a mound sending heat rushing to your center.

“It seems like you need reassurance,” he reasoned. “Let’s think of it as a sort of quality assurance project, what do you think?”

With that, more fingers made their way down the hem of your skirt, pulling then dragging them down so that he could press a digit right through to your pussy now damp and soaking your undies. 

“I don’t know why you keep wearing these tight ass skirts in the office, how the fuck are we supposed to get a quick fix during work breaks?”

“Shut up, Kuroo,” you retorted, pushing him off of you as you struggled to shimmy the skirt off quickly yourself.

“I mean, you’re really bad at playing this pretend game. Like my dad owns this company, why do you think it would be a problem if everyone else found out we were fucking?” Kuroo added, as he unbuckled his pants and rolled down his dress pants for you. You took a look at his large member as it popped out from the waistband of his pants, but when you saw his smirk at your hungry expression, you rolled your eyes before bending over the printer for him. 

“You talk so fucking much, Kuroo.”

“Wow! Cursing at me? On my birthday?” He protested with mock offense, but instead retaliated with getting a hard grip on your hair with one hand to pull you back towards him.

“Kuroo!”

“You’re lucky I’m not asking for a full hour of head, bunny!” He quipped, before breaching your entrance in one fluid movement. “Oh my goodness, it really is my lucky day, you really are just dripping for me.”

At this point, you should have been wondering what exactly had gotten you involved with this obnoxious man, but when he started a quick pace, thrusting you forward back and forth while you steadied yourself on the poor abused office printer, your tsundere act started to crumble. 

As he expected.

The room filled with the sloppy noises of cock entering cunt, over and over and over again, soft whines, suppressed grunts and moans, and the whir of buttons inadvertently being pressed. Despite Kuroo’s abrasive behavior towards you in the office, he could manage to be tender when he railed you, offering a soft hand to cover your mouth as you struggled to keep quiet and loosening his grip on your hair in favor of running his hand through it tenderly. 

As your walls continued to clench and tighten around him, milking him of all he was worth, his moans started to get more uneven, and he breathed deeply before laughing softly, leaning in you.

“You’re awfully quiet, babe,” he teased, his voice more tender this time.

So are you, you wanted to say, but then your coil snapped, and sensing this, his hand clamped tighter over your mouth as he pounded you even harder and you wanted to scream.

Kuroo, Kuroo, Kuroo…

Your orgasm was freefall, and soon he fell with you holding you all the while, his hand still clamped over your mouth and his other hand now pressing against you to hold your convulsing body still, you always came so violently when you were with him, so much a firecracker you were.

When the high finally faded, you both redressed in satisfied silence, staring at each other with renewed longing, only to be startled by hard raps on the door. 

Your eyes widened as you stared at each other then at the door.

Had you finally been too loud?

“There’s cake for whoever’s in there for VP’s birthday,” you could hear one of your coworkers finally say with exasperation. “I don’t know why you always use that room for so long, you can work in your cubicle, ___.”

Kuroo stifled a laugh as haughty footsteps headed away from the door, before kissing you on the forehead.

“Do you wanna get some of VP’s birthday cake or have you already had enough of VP?”

[slimepuparibaba]

ChiLumi | The Battle of Golden House

Golden House was what screwed my feelings over the most, if I'm being completely honest here. It hurts so damn much.

I don't wanna get into too much of the nitty-gritty before we start but here are some FYIs.

Childe temporarily joined Lumine's team after their little outing in Liyue. His reasoning to the Fatui was that it was to squeeze out information--in reality, he just wanted to spend time with Lumine.

The team was compromised of most of the characters, except for Venti, Klee, Bennett, Mona, Keqing, Qiqi, Jean, Diluc, Ningguang, Zhongli, and Xinyan. This took place BEFORE the 1.2 update happened!

Kaeya, Chongyun, Xiangling, and Barbara were the least suspicious of Childe as they spent more time around him and knew of his feelings towards Lumine--they are also the main team members in this fight.

All this is based off of my gameplay in Genshin!

Leading Up to the Battle

Childe and Lumine were very close. Weeks had passed and Childe had gotten to the point where he would use "Lumine" more often instead of "Traveler" or "ojou-chan". Childe would also call Lumine "Aster" due to her favorite flower being a Windwheel Aster

Kaeya was also the closest to the two of them and gave advice to both Lumine and Childe on how they should court each other

However, Childe was eventually reminded that the good times can't last forever. After he hard that Lumine visited the Jade Chamber that floated above Liyue, he remembered that he wasn't here to chat. His initial goal was to bring back the gnosis.

The night before the fight, as the team rested at an inn on the way to Liyue, Childe, cloakee by the darkness of night, left the group. He ditched the weapons that Lumine gave to him as well as his artifacts. If he held onto them during their destined battle, he knew he wouldn't be able to fulfill his duty.

Childe hesitated to leave, and yet, with a heavy heart, he left the Inn behind and stationed the Fatui to mobilize in Liyue.

The next morning, Lumine was shattered to see that Childe was gone.

Confrontation

The group heard of the Fatui being mobilized as well as the Adepti and the Qixing about to throw down, and Zhongli gave Lumine the tip that Childe was behind it. She really wanted to be able to talk it out with Childe and convince him he didn't need to go this far, but Zhongli himself stated that "sometimes, they won't understand that until everything is said and done."

Lumine was ready to confront Childe, but her heart was shaking and she felt uneasy. The uneasiness began to settle in though when she and the rest of the group approched the Exuvia and heard Childe's chilling laughter echo throughout the empty hall.

Lumine, hoping to resolve this without fighting, tried to talk to him.

"Childe, you don't have to do this! Don't you remember all the fun times we had? All of us? You're one of us, Childe! You don't have to be their pawn!"

Deep inside, Childe agreed. He knew full well that Lumine had a point--that he was merely being used as a pawn and he could easily discarded. He wanted to join Lumine, but...

"Monsters like the Fatui cannot be saved."

That was all that ran through his mind.

He wanted to agree; god knows he did. What he wouldn't give to leave the Fatui, resign as a Harbinger, and join everyone on that team on their adventures and protect everyone that he ever loved.

But he just couldn't do that.

Childe knew that Lumine wouldn't give up, no matter what, and he kept battling within himself. Sadly, though, his "loyalty" to the Tsaritsa got the better of him.

"Shut up!"

Lumine fell silent, and the entire group watched as Childe began to call her out. It pained him to do so, but his loyalty to the Tsaritsa practically demanded that he continue with this farce.

He said many things he truly wished he didn't say, many things he wanted to take back. But he was too far in. He stopped calling Lumine by her name, instead only calling her "Traveler", trying to distance himself. He mocked Lumine, as well as everyone else, calling them naïve for trusting a Fatui, of all people. Deep down, he was happy they trusted him. He wasn't upset with them, but himself for doing this.

Childe was waiting for Lumine to retort--to fight back and say something, and it looked like she was about to...

...until he said he was simply toying with Lumine's feelings.

Lumine didn't want to take that at face value, and Childe didn't want her to either. But, as soon as he said that, even though he may not have meant it, she shed a single tear.

Kaeya intervened, stating that Childe went too far. The Harbinger knew that... he knew that all too well. But, time could not rewind. He had already done enough damage.

He convinced himself that there was no turning back. If he was to fulfill his duty as a vassal of the Tsaritsa, he needed Lumine to hate him. He needed to crush all the lingering feelings that were held between the two of them. He needed to be the villain.

With that, he challenged Lumine to a battle. And thus, the Battle of Golden House was set in motion.

Phase 1 and 2: Childe Unleashed

He was completely ready for Lumine to throw everything at him, but instead, she stood still, not moving. Her eyes were devoid of the hatred he was hoping to see. It was... empty.

Instead, Kaeya, Chongyun, Xiangling, and Barbara hopped in. Noelle shielded the rest of the party, Lisa and Amber comforting Lumine, who was silently weeping in heartbreak. Everyone looked upon Childe with hatred, wondering why he would do such a thing.

Xiangling would crash into Childe, crossing blades and questioning why he was doing this. She believed he was happy with them, so why did they have to fight?

Chongyun, too, was upset. He may have come late to the party, but he saw how easily Childe fit in. In fact, while Chongyun was trying to train to get on par with the rest of the team, Childe would help out.

Barbara was one of the only rational ones, and she sensed there was more to the story. She tried to talk it out with Childe, saying that he didn't have to do this and there was no real reason they had to fight. She knew that Childe wasn't happy with this either.

But it was Kaeya that completely lost it.

People say that Kaeya is one of the chiller, cooler people in all of Teyvat. But, make no mistake... Kaeya is scary when he gets angered. When you push the wrong buttons, he will show absolutely no mercy.

While the three main fighters were throwing questions at him, trying to persuade him to stop it, Kaeya threw himself into the battle without second thought. He asked no questions--he only snarled at the one he once saw Lumine happy with.

Kaeya was supportive of Childe and Lumine when he saw how happy she was with him and how Childe seemed to be the same way. Kaeya understood Lumine didn't have her brother there like she used to, and he understood that same feeling, so he swore to try and be the brother that the both of them didn't have at the moment. Lumine was practically his little sister.

So when Childe betrayed her, when he broke her heart, Kaeya was ready to go absolutely apeshit.

Throughout the battle, even when Childe reached Phase 2, Kaeya would be the one throwing blow after blow at the Harbinger. It wasn't just physical hits, either. It included emotional daggers.

The two men would argue constantly, Kaeya threatening Childe and Childe laughing in response, mocking him.

"She trusted you--no, WE trusted you! I let the fact that you're a Fatui go because I thought you had some piece of humanity in you!"

"Then that was YOUR mistake! You just had to believe a Fatui all because, what? Your "surrogate sister" fell in love? Haha, don't make me laugh! Just because you didn't have a brother for half your life doesn't mean you need to project yourself onto the Traveler and become hers!"

The more their blades crossed, the more enraged Kaeya became. However, a third blade came into play and threw Kaeya's sword out of his hands.

It was Lumine.

Phase 3: Tartaglia's Foul Legacy

Lumine was standing still, her sword at her side. She stared at Childe with no emotion showing on her face. This was it, Childe thought. She finally hates me.

Childe held up his weapon, but before he could strike Kaeya and Lumine, she blocked it with her anemo skill, her feet digging into the floor as her geo skill kept her in place. Kaeya lept away, and all that was left on the battlefield was Childe and Lumine.

A large explosion of light occurred, but Childe simply appeared on the Exuvia, ready to grab the Gnosis. But when he discovered it wasn't there, he didn't know what to think.

Lumine stood still, and Childe wanted to end it there. But part of him delusionally screamed "No!", and instead pinned the blame on her.

It felt like Childe was slowly being torn apart on the inside. He wanted to stop it, apologize to Lumine and run away with her and their friends, but he needed to fulfill his duties.

In the end, Childe listened to his head. He unleashed his Foul Legacy transformation and destroyed the flooring below everyone, sending them to the lower platform.

Kaeya was going to step in, but Lumine game him a look. It was as if to say "This is between me and him." So, Kaeya backed off and retreated to the rest of the group.

Lumine and Tartaglia simply stared at each other. Tartaglia expected for Lumine to say something, but no words were spoken. Instead, she immediately rushed towards him.

Tartaglia expected to block it, ready to stop her in her tracks. He was ready to take her head-on and see her full power...

...then she drew two blades made of water.

Tartaglia was in shock. Lumine pulled a surprising move... she was using his weapon! It stunned him, even amazed him, but for some reason, it also broke his heart. He left behind the weapons he used when with Lumine's team, not wanting to use them in fear that it would stop him from using his full potential, but here they were... being used against them.

It was after she pulled those weapons out that Tartaglia's moves grew slower.

Many speculated this was because Tartaglia's armor was heavier and using up most of his power. However, Barbara understood. She saw the look in Childe's eyes when Lumine entered the arena. He seemed prideful, but his eyes said different. He, just like Lumine, didn't want to do this.

Tartaglia was holding back.

Tartaglia and Lumine kept clashing. Their powers were equal to each other, and Lumine kept switching between using her blade and the weapons once used by Childe himself. Even still, no words were exchanged. There was no expression on Lumine's face. Within the Golden House, all that could be heard was the sounds of blades clashing, lightning striking, wind howling, and water crashing.

The two of them fought hard. In the end, both were one hit away from being knocked out and losing. Tartaglia had one charged attack he had been storing up and was ready to unleash it.

"If I use it, she will obviously dodge it... and then she can beat me. Then, she will hate me like she was destined to."

Tartaglia lifted his blade into the air and, using his Delusion, summoned a large amount of Electro energy. It wasn't undodgable--in fact, Lumine could just jump back and strike him and the fight would end there.

Just as he was about to strike, however, Lumine instead rushed towards Tartaglia, rushing right past him. Instead of dodging, she ran straight into the attack. Tartaglia was shocked, staring at the Traveler being pierced by the lightning. Just as she was struck, she whispered softly the only words she had spoken throughout the entire fiasco...

"...if I knew it would've come to this, I wish I never fell in love with you."

Lumine, at last, fell.

Fallen

Childe dropped his weapon, staring at Lumine's body as it hit the ground. She was knocked out cold. He reached out his arm, only for Barbara to rush in and throw her arms out to her side, as if forbidding Childe to touch her.

Memories of the times that they spent together flowed through his mind. He couldn't move. He felt paralyzed. He wanted to pick up Lumine and apologize, say it was all a joke and he just wanted to test her strength, but he couldn't do that. He glabced at her body, lying on the cold floor, and understood.

He did this to her.

This was all his fault.

The words that Lumine said kept repeating in his head, echoing and resounding, practically taunting him. Just as he was caught in a trance, he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen.

Kaeya stabbed him through his armor.

Childe, his Foul Legacy transformation fading, then collapsed on the ground, returning back to normal.

Paimon and Kaeya confronted Childe, who expected Lumine to be the one to get upset with him instead of the Calvary Knight. The Fatui Harbinger looked at Lumine, who was being healed by both Diona and Barbara. He felt like saying sorry, but the angry looks from everyone told him one thing, and one thing only.

"You're a liar. You never could've been saved in the first place."

"Monsters can never be saved."

Childe, feeling he had nothing left, lifelessly continued forth with the plan that he had formulated weeks before he had joined Lumine. He was still waiting for her to wake up and hug him, beg him not to, or at least just try and stop him. He wanted someone to tell him that he could change.

But no one did.

With a heavy heart and a false smile on his face, he summoned Osial and escaped from the Golden House. He felt no reason to stay there...

He was now a lost cause.

Kaeya, still angered by Childe, wanted to chase after him, but a weary Lumine told him to worry about Liyue instead. Kaeya protested, saying they should nip the issue in the bud, but Barbara agreed.

Not only that, but she knew that Childe wanted them to stop Osial. She could tell... she saw it in the saddened look on his face.

Departure

The group, after fully healing, ventured to the Golden Chamber and fought against Osial alongside the adepti and the Qixing. They succeeded, naturally, with the Golden Chamber sadly sacrificed. The Qixing became the ruling power of Liyue, with the Adepti stepping down.

In the end, however, the mystery of the Gnosis and it's whereabouts still remained. Thus, the team ventured to the Northland Bank.

It was there that they saw Zhongli, Signora, and Childe.

Childe saw Lumine and was about to congratulate her, but Kaeya stood in the way, and Signora gave Childe a dirty look. He realized that, truly, what was done couldn't be undone. He had to continue lying through his teeth, just as he always did.

Childe made a false apology, saying that he truly was just a pawn and just doing his job. But, truth was that he meant to say that he didn't want to do it, and that he wanted Lumine to scold him and steal him away from the Fatui. Even then, though, Lumine didn't look him in the eye and fell silent.

The answers to the entire "Rex Lapis murder mystery" were solved, and Signora gained the Geo Archon's Gnosis. With that out of the way, Signora commanded Childe to head back to Snezhnaya with her. Reluctantly, he followed.

But, just before he could leave, he waited at the door and for Signora to keep walking just out of hearing distance. When she did, Childe turned around and looked Lumine in the eye. He gave a sad smile, and said one last sentence to her.

"...Lumine... I... really hope you didn't mean what you said back there..."

Lumine, taken aback, had no words to say. He responded to what she said back at the Golden House... did that mean that he...?

Before she could try and ask, Childe left, walking out of her sight, never looking back.

From then on, Childe and Lumine weren't reunited. All that remained with the both of them was the memories of the time they spent together before the fateful battle that tore them apart.

...that is, until Childe's Story Mission.

may i just say that this entire thing broke me

bruh. childe. Why did u do that

;;;

also the blows he made to kaeya's pride

like

"i know you and diluc aint close, dont go projecting on lumine"

fucking christ dude you needed LUMINE to hate you, not the fake pirate dude!

[im-drowninginpeace]

«Author»

: Drowned_In_The_Water

Angel and Devil (Chapter 2)

𝑆𝑜 𝑈𝒉𝑚𝑚... 𝒉𝑜𝑤'𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔 𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡𝒉𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝒉𝑖𝑠? 𝐼 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛, 𝐼'𝑚 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦'𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡𝒉𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝒉, 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑠𝒉 𝑛𝑜 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑎𝑙𝑙, 𝑡𝒉𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑖𝑛'𝑡 𝑡𝒉𝑎𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑. 𝐼 𝑎𝑝𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑖𝑧𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝒉𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑑𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒.

━━━━━°❀•°: Masterlist

You stepped out of the train with the biggest smile on your face. However, the masked on your face blocked the sight, even more so when the cap also covered your face with a shadow.

Looking around Shibuya, you can't help but feel excited. Finally, you're now away with the rules of your brother and are free to do what you want.

"Now..." Fishing out your phone from your pocket, you texted the number of your cousin.

(Y/n)

:Hey, I'm already at Shibuya.

When you hit the send button and made sure your text arrived to the other side, you immediately made your way around, trying to explore without the fear of getting lost.

A while later while you're buying water in a nearby store, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket.

Keisuke

: I'm on my way, stay there and don't talk to strangers.

Reading the message, you have a strong urge to roll your eyes. What does he think of you, a baby? A toddler who would accept a candy and go with a stranger?

Of course, you didn't reply. Not because you don't want to, but something—or someone, caught your eye.

Not far away from you, two people was talking and laughing, one was leaning against a bike while the other is leaning in the nearby pole.

It was a pair of twins, two people who seem to have similar faces but...two different set of expression.

Your eyes examined the two people, not caring if you were being rude because people calling you that isn't a major concern in your life.

The twins on your sight, one have peach hair and the other blue, was truly eye catching in your opinion. Especially the blue haired one who looks like he's angry, mad even.

However, he's pretty cute.

Probably sensing your stare, the blue haired twin looked your way. A beautiful set of blue eyes met your own gray ones, which didn't brought embarrassment on you.

Instead, you flashed him a closed eyes smile, though it's only your crescent eyes that's on sight because of the mask.

The blue haired look surprise, that angry face never disappearing on his face but somehow, you felt like he's kind of fluster.

What an interesting guy! You thought.

Such reactions made you excited. It's like you had some kind of attraction to this person, something you've never felt before.

And exactly what kind of actions would you take if you find something attractive to you? Obviously, you'd want to approach it and know everything about it. More so...to have it.

Of course, when applying that into someone and not something, it's different.

You were about to approach them, since you were staring at each other to the point that the peach haired twin stopped talking and also looked over your way.

A small step towards their way, and you phone rang.

*Ringggg....*

What the—

God you've never hated the sound of your phone ringing, but now you kinda do already. What kind of person is calling you, to ruin a moment of you introducing yourself to someone who manage to catch your eyes.

Then ta-da!!!

You wanted to just shove back the phone in your pocket and ignore the call, but seeing the name 'Keisuke' in a bold letter in the screen of your phone changed your mind.

Looking up, you waved at the blue haired guy before answering the phone and turning away.

"Hi Kei, I just wanna let you know you ruined my moment." You immediately complained as you answered the phone, and you heard an annoyed 'huh!?' from your cousin.

"What the hell are you talking? No wait, where are you even?" From the other line you heard a light cursed, "Don't tell me you're flirting with random people again?"

"Wha—nooo. No, definitely not." You answered with a wide smile.

I was planning to do so, but you interrupted me.

"You definitely are!" Keisuke yelled over the phone, making you laugh.

You were already walking towards where you remember you came from, realizing you walked a little far from the place where Keisuke is supposed to meet you.

"Geez, hurry up. I have somewhere to go after this."

You sneered at that and said nothing, steps quickening while you heard another voice from the other side, which didn't belong to your cousin.

"Baji-san, what does your cousin look like? There's so many people here."

The sound of Keisuke chuckling was heard, "Find a girl with a red hair, that's all."

"Woah, Baji-san your cousin seem like a cool person."

"What'cha think? Of course, that's my cousin!"

Should you laugh and remind them that you're still on the line, you could hear them perfectly clear, because Keisuke forgot to end the call?

Should you?

Obviously, the answer is no.

You made your way around looking for them while silently laughing, listening to their conversation.

"If I were to be honest, she could probably take down Mikey."

"What!? No way! Baji-san your cousin is a girl, right?"

"Yes she's a girl. But she's also a demon, don't make her mad or she'll try to throw handmade grandes at you. One time she set my clothes on fire because I called her a crybaby."

"That's scary."

"I'm scary, right?"

The two jumped at the sound of a woman's voice speaking softly near them, and Keisuke immediately turned to look towards you with the biggest grin.

"(Y/n)!" He called out happily when he saw you. He opened his arms and pulled you in a hug.

You rolled your eyes playfully and returned the hug before looking over the person who Keisuke is talking to.

"Well hello there, who might you be?" You asked, taking your mask off while Keisuke, this cheeky bastard, took your expensive cap and wore it on his head.

It was a cute blond boy with mesmerizing blue-green eyes. He was gaping at the sight of you, making you laugh.

The boy flushed and look away, clearing his throat before answering in a stammer.

"H-Hi. I'm Ch... I'm Chifuyu Matsuno."

Your eyes twinkle a little. You've heard the name before. Where? Obviously from Keisuke.

"So you're the one who's tutored Kei before. I've been wanting to meet you and say you're an admirable guy for putting up with my cousin." You joked while Keisuke let out an offended "Hey!" At the background.

Seeing your smile, Chifuyu now resembles a tomato because his face is extremely red. He shook his head and wave his hands in embarrassment.

"No it's nothing. It's my pleasure to help Baji-san."

Welp, that's rare. What a sweet guy. You thought before you run a hand through your hair, grinning widely.

Chifuyu was amazed at the sight of your grin. He immediately took noticed of the fang amongst your teeth, and he thought your grin was like a carbon copy of Baji's grin.

"Let's continue the chit chat later. Get on the bike (Y/n), Mom's been waiting for you since this morning." Keisuke said.

"Oh, okay."

While you're leaving, your mind couldn't help but think of that cute blue haired guy you saw earlier, and you hoped you'll see him again.

If not ... you're sure you'll find him.

וווו×

On the other hand, a peach haired young man looked at his younger twin brother with a smirk.

"Souya~ Don't tell me you're in-love~??"

The blue haired boy became stunned at the words he heard. His eyes widen as he look at his brother, then his eyes turned into that of confusion.

"What do you mean? I didn't even saw her face, nor do I know her."

"Ohh?~ Well, that's a shame cause I think she's interested in ya."

"Shut up, Nahoya."

What followed was a string of laughter coming from the peach haired boy.

Souya finally sigh in relief when his brother let go of the topic. He also remembered the girl who's looking (staring) his way.

At first, it was hard not to noticed her because of the aura she lets out. Then it became more harder because she looked his way and her gaze never leave him until he look over and the girl waved, answering a phone call while walking away.

To be honest, Souya doesn't feel much. It was just a random person.

".. ya? Souya!?"

Flinching in surprise, Souya looked at his brother's smiling face with a lost expression.

"I said let's go have some Ramen."

"Oh, okay."

'I feel like something's weird is about to happen.'

[fukurodaze]

five stars: part 2 | two hands

IT’S EMBARRASSING: a third year cheerleader!reader x second year athlete!suna au

wc: 3.7k warnings: cursing

prev | m.list | next

a/n: happy birthday to suna rintarou <3

"i’m just saying, the tail just has you dive into the good bits first.”

your close friend, nakamatsu honoka, replies to you in a serious manner. the two of you are in a highly solemn discussion regarding which part of fish bread is to be eaten first, all because you had purchased some fish bread right before your student council meeting and honoka had just happened to catch you on your first bite after practice. now, honoka argues for tail, and you argue for the head. 

“yeah, but it just feels... wrong. i mean-”

you don’t finish your sentence, because there’s a high-pitched voice calling your name.

your head turns and the empty hallway reveals ueno momo, the student council’s treasurer, free of her usual budget papers in hand. she brisk walks in a little bit of a frenzy, and as she catches up with the two of you, she asks, “hey, you’re dating that second year right?”

suna? you want to answer.

“what second year?” is what you say.

honoka almost audibly rolls her eyes at your denial, knowing too well of your recent time spent with the second year middle blocker. he’s cute, honoka remembers assuring you, having seen you curled up into a ball at her house, repeating the phrases why and “uegrh” after the mention of suna’s name.

ueno lightly slaps your shoulder, “c’mon. you know what i mean.” she gives you the same smile she gives everyone.

“now, you’re going to the boys’ volleyball gym right?” ueno asks, keen.

“i mean i guess i could stop by, why?”

“i’ll come with you,” ueno adjusts her backpack, “it’s been a while.”

the gym is as loud as you remember it, even louder than the basketball team. it seemed like practice had just been at its peak intensity, and though you’re greeted with stoic eye contact from the coach and the sound of rubber balls hitting strong palms, there’s the unmistakably firm sound of a ball being spiked to the ground right in front of your face.

you would’ve shouted out a good “holy shit!” if it weren’t for ueno grabbing you by the hand and sitting you down on the bench near the coach.

you hear cheering next, and a bunch of glances towards you. it puzzles you how their faces, though smiling, seemed to possess a little glint in all their eyes at the spiker. 

of course, when it came down to everything, suna rintarou had to be the one who spiked the ball.

you glance at ueno, who’s fixated on the court, on someone on court, but you’re not sure who. still, you’re curious, “are you the manager of the volleyball team, or something?”

ueno doesn’t take her eyes off the court, “oh, no, i’m just close to the players. i like watching them play.”

you’re pleasantly surprised at the revelation, having not really known any members of the volleyball club except for a handful of the third years and suna, the boy who had found you sleeping like a rooster two mornings ago. he had even walked you to class for that day, and you’re not sure how to feel.

safe to say he had “ran into you” the next morning, and had walked you to class again.

you almost refrain from looking, because every time your eyes are on the court they somehow trace his figure instead of anyone else’s. he’s fast, and clever, and flexible, and sometimes even frustrating to watch because of how successfully he blocks. still, his face stays nonchalant, and though he looks in your direction from time to time, he always seems so unfazed.

his hand runs through his hair, shirt lifting up to wipe some of the sweat on his face, voice deep and loud when he congratulates his teammates.

shit.

his voice rings with every spike from his side, whether it be him or someone else’s. it sends chills down your spine, when someone serves the ball with a nasty spin, or when someone receives it so well that it makes an echoing sound. 

when the whistle blows and the players begin to run to the benches to retrieve their water bottles, you catch sight of ueno picking up a water bottle and coming back to her seat, watching as ojiro aran comes up to her and takes the bottle with a thank you, fingers brushing ever so slightly.

“are you two close?”

ueno only looks at you blankly, “i’m busy. i don’t date.”

suspicious, you furrow your eyebrows and lean back onto the wall of the gym, “the question wasn’t about dating.”

“what?” ueno defends, “ar- ojiro-kun is just a friend.”

“i never said anything about ojiro-san.”

“uh, yes you did. look, i’m not dating aran.”

you sigh in defeat, but pick up on the ‘aran’. it’s a matter of seconds before the coach calls the team over to the whiteboard rolling in from the storage room, numerous plays in hand for the interhigh. the coach’s and players’ voices are drowned out by your and ueno’s conversation, however, and it’s only when the coach gestures towards your bench with a shushing motion that you purse your lips and begin whispering to each other.

you hate to wish for a lingering pair of eyes on you.

when practice eventually ends, you and ueno keep sitting on the bench, talking idly as the boys get changed. just before the entire team goes back to the changing rooms, a solid glance from ojiro aran has ueno jump up and race herself to the entrance first. she tells you to stay “for a little bit”.

in the locker rooms, there is cheering.

“suna rintarou, everybody!” miya atsumu is the most entertained by seeing his friend, who is usually the one that makes fun of him, harbour something as small and harmless like a crush - on a third year, no less.

“dude, suna’s beast mode fucking sends.” ginjima adds.

“yeah, did you see how he lifted up his shirt there?”

a round of laughs, even from kita.

“and don’t forget the way he went,” atsumu bends his knees, mimicking suna’s posture in court, voice deepening, “nice one, oomimi!”

oomimi snorts, “didn’t know he had it in him.”

there is another round of laughter.

“ay, it works, though!” osamu chimes in, “if she comes to interhigh with us we might as well win with suna like this.”

atsumu, shirtless, has his arm around suna’s neck, still in his practice gear, voice so loud that it’s almost a direct scream to the ear. suna sees the first years giggling, the second years cheering, and the third years stifling their smirks.

this has been going nonstop for weeks.

“hey, have you even talked to her though?” ginjima comes up to suna as atsumu puts his uniform back on.

suna raises a finger, “why am i supposed to tell you everything that happens between me and her?”

“so you did talk to her?” his voice is loud, and half of the room pans to suna.

“we were just walking-”

“shit, you walked her home?” osamu slides himself back into the conversation.

“not home. we just walk and talk or whatever.”

atsumu has his backpack on already, “hey, progress is progress. don’t you wanna date her?”

suna groans. he finally opens his locker.

“are ya actually serious about dating y/n-san?” aran mutters to suna from the locker beside him, and he almost nods. aran takes it as a yes.

“oh shit. good luck with that. don’t take it personally if she’s too busy for you.” aran shrugs, buttoning up his uniform. 

suna squints at the boy, “and how would you know?”

aran smirks, though it seems like he freezes for a split second, “nah. yer right. i wouldn’t.”

one by one, the boys exit the changing room. the twins had decided to go home together, aran by himself for unknown reasons, akagi with oomimi, kita back to the gym, and ginjima waiting for suna.

conversation unrelated to suna’s love life begins to fill the room, and suna is grateful for it. is it his fault for not wanting to talk about you? he’s eager towards you, yes, but that doesn’t help the fact that he’s practically always an internal hurricane whenever you’re near. it even surprises him how he’s gotten to walk you to school for two days now.

“our cheer team is fucking insane though. have you seen their basketball routines? sucks that they’re only on the bleachers for the interhigh.”

“yeah. the marching band doesn’t have as much time to play as well. and the cheer team can’t do any of those basic shoulder sits or basket tosses.”

ginjima raises an eyebrow, “right, and you would know what a basket toss is.”

“i don’t,” suna opens his mouth, before closing it again. you had told him about a basket toss. 

“y’know, you should just ask her out.”

“why?” suna has his backpack on, hands gripping the straps.

“whaddya mean, ‘why’? suna, she’s known in school for all these things. what if someone asks her out before you get to?”

suna tsks, and the grip on the straps of his backpack tighten. there’s a tiny sinking feeling in his gut that tells him he’s not good enough - at least, not for you.

the two walk out of the locker rooms and into the now empty gym. ginjima spots you first, still on the benches, looking through your phone, and he elbows suna in the rib before running to the entrance of the gym.

suna is left confused, slightly surprised, and makes eye contact with you. he comes over.

“hey.” he has his hands - three fingers, actually - in his trouser pockets.

you look up from your phone and stand up, “hey.”

“were you waiting for someone?” suna hates how the question comes out.

“well-” you’re not sure what to say, so you pull up your phone, “i was scrolling through food menus and seeing which ones were the best ones to get delivery. nobody’s going to be home, so i figured delivery would be good.”

“there’s this obaa-san nearby that sells fish cake soup and rice balls. we could get that.” he leads you out of the gym, and the two of you walk together.

“we... yeah. we could.” you try to quicken your walking pace to keep up with him.

(he slows down for you.)

the obaa-san’s place is almost like a hut with a few benches and a table behind the school. suna orders the food with a wave and receives a ‘have a good meal, rin-chan’.

“how do you know the obaa-san?” you cross your legs as the two of you settle on the school’s entrance stairs.

“she works as my landlord. the school kind of pays her for me and other recruited athletes to stay there.” he unpacks the fish soup in high-quality plastic containers and passes one container to you along with two rice balls. you tell him thanks.

you chuckle when he takes a tiny bite into his rice balls, “so, rin-chan?”

suna almost chokes. it makes you laugh.

“it’s, like, such a cute name for...”

suna waits for your answer. you finish lowly, with a cheeky smile, “a person like you.”

“you saying i’m not cute?”

there’s a bright look on your face, teeth showing and eyes crinkled. you swat your hand that’s not holding your rice ball, “that’s not it!”

“i’m going this way,” you motion. suna waves his hand as he stops on the roundabout where you turn, watching as you bid him goodbye. your frame, even from the back, is pretty, suna thinks, and he stays on the corner to see you off until you disappear into the other street.

but you don’t - your phone buzzes and it’s a message from the cheer team’s vice captain, kouno yuki, reminding you that the new cheer uniforms are still in the principal’s office, and that the principal’s good for nothing preference for their hundred-thousands yen school band over the ten-thousands yen cheer team would only result in the uniforms being stored in some absurd corner of the large school - again.

you make a whole 180 degree spin back to the direction of the school, finding suna still in the same spot he was before. he asks you as you jog towards the school, “what’s going on?”

“i need to go to principal’s office.”

“is she even still at school at,” he checks his phone, “seven?”

“i’m going to cross my fingers and hope she is.” you walk past him, and he follows you.

“you don’t have to follow me, just go home. i know you’re tired and all after practice,” you protest.

suna only shakes his head. it’s true that he’s tired, yet he finds that energy is the last of his worries whenever he’s with you - rather, his problem is having too much energy around you. 

suna stays behind you, brisk walking while you begin to jog with your backpack swaying up and down on your back. there’s one expression you make that burns itself in his mind; much like worry and concern, slight panic laced in your eyes and cheeks. he watches as you look at him once, and then straight ahead, because you never know how much an additional second might cost you. 

you’re going fast. but you need faster.

so suna begins to run. he runs, and the gap between his previous fast walk and your light jog is enclosed because he holds your arm gently as he guides you faster along the school’s walkways. the principal’s office is in building A, first floor. ten minute walk, five minute jog, two minute sprint - he estimates (he actually doesn’t know). but right now, you need to be there as soon as possible.

and suna can definitely do as soon as possible.

it takes longer for you to realise that the boy has your wrist in his large hand, taking you along with his speed. you make a sound of exclamation, noting how fast he is, and he mumbles a sorry that drifts behind him through the air and into your ears. it’s funny.

the summer air is cool and warm, and the sky finally gets darker. you see the outline of the moon as you try not to trip on the speed, and you concentrate on how it reflects itself on the current view you have of his back profile, tracing the small breaks and lines of his figure. when he stops, your eyes still linger on him.

“y/n-senpai?”

suna glances up at the sign on the door, and you’re snapped out of your daze, “ah, we’re here.”

he lets go of your arm, and there’s a small emptiness that momentarily plagues the area.

“the principal’s still in there.”

you straighten up your posture, hand combing through hair as you use the front camera of your phone to fix yourself. you turn to suna, “how do i look?”

he gives you an awkward thumbs up and a ghost of a smile. “thanks,” you respond.

you give a knock on the door, and you hear a “come in!”. the door slides open.

you bow respectfully, and suna towers behind you, bowing as well. “just in time. i was about to throw away all these uniforms after they piled up in my room. there are lots of cheerleaders, it seems?”

you force a laugh, “yes, there’s around twenty. we usually split up for different routines with different teams throughout the year.”

“right. now that the badminton team is starting practice, where are you practicing again?” the principal is stern, yet her voice is high-pitched and gentle. it scares you sometimes.

“we’re alternating between the volleyball and basketball gyms, ma’am.”

“are you sure you’re not disturbing the teams? basketball and volleyball seasons are very close together. even the volleyball interhighs are,” she squints at her desk calendar, flipping from the july page to august, “about three weeks away. isn’t that right, suna-kun?”

your head turns when she mentions suna. he nods promptly, but then adds, “the cheerleaders bring lots of energy to the gyms, ma’am.”

the principal raises her eyebrows, “well, if you say so. i still think the band works just as fine. the band makes a rhythm. all cheerleaders do is follow it with their... pompoms, or whatever.”

there is a silence that you don’t know how to break. you freeze unresponsively.

“so, can we pick up the uniforms?” suna says, gathering his guts. you perk up, and so does the principal.

“right, the boxes are on that corner. the person told me you ordered ten medium, five large, five small?”

you nod, and before you know it, you’re carrying a box of ten medium-sized uniforms while suna carries the other ten. the two of you bow again to the principal and she gives an absentminded wave as the two of you exit the room, and eventually the building, in silence.

once out, you start, “what the fuck does she have against cheerleaders?”

suna lets out a laugh he’s been holding the second he heard the principal talk. he adds, “i wasn’t sure if she was joking when she said that thing about throwing the uniforms out.”

“did you hear what she said? the whole fucking, ‘their... pompoms, or whatever.’ or whatever? bitch doesn’t want to acknowledge that cheerleading is a sport and for what!”

you continue, “not only that, the way she went like, ‘are you sure you’re not disturbing’? um, excuse me? of course we’re goddamn sure because we’re on opposite sides of the gym! and all of us know how to focus at least!”

you go on and on about all the things that the principal had said, only fuelling your anger at the principal’s passive-aggressive distaste towards the cheerleading team. you’re thankful that suna supplies your thread of complaints with laughter and agreements at least.

when you finish your rant, you take a deep breath and turn to the boy, stopping just short of a few steps before the cheerleaders’ club room. “thank you for being there with me, suna.”

just suna? without honorifics? suna wants to ask. he brushes it off, “yeah. no problem.”

“oh, and just thank you again for saying that thing. you know, about us bringing energy,” you trail off, but then pick yourself back up, “do we, really?”

suna, of course, knows from past experience that having you around a five-meter radius does some interesting things to his plays, but he makes sure to tell you sincerely and genuinely that the teams - or, the volleyball team, at least - appreciates the added warmth every monday and friday.

the two of you put down the boxes of uniforms inside the club room. you open your box out of impulse and a wave of excitement washes by, “oh my god, do you want to see me in uniform?”

suna flushes bright red - and it’s really obvious.

“you don’t have to get like that! okay, now shoo, imma change.” you swat your hands out, motioning for him to get out of the clubroom to change. it makes his palms sweat just slightly.

outside, suna tries to conjure up the image of last year’s summer uniforms, remembering their short sleeves and skirts, mostly white appearance with maroon accents.

his own mental image was proven wrong when you step out of the club room wearing a completely different uniform. this time it’s black with white and maroon details, ‘inarizaki’ in capital letters plastered over the back and front of your top. you do a little twirl, letting the wind sway your pleated skirt and rush slightly underneath your sleeveless v-neck top, smiling, “how is it?”

“i like y- it.” suna’s eyes widen as soon as he hears himself say it, so he tries to rewrite his words loudly, “it’s- it’s really nice. you look really nice, y/n-senpai.”

“thank you,” you look at him, “and you can call me y/n.”

“right. i’m suna.”

you chuckle, “you know, i designed this myself- okay, not really myself, but yuki helped me with it too. i thought the white got a bit tiring, especially since it doesn’t match with the rest of the school.”

“that’s good,” suna begins, but he doesn’t know how to continue, “yeah, that’s really good.”

suna finds that the night shines in your eyes better than any mirror reflects light; and seeing you, standing before him, smiling wide and eager to show him something you’re proud of, he only feels his heart soften and his harsh demeanour falter. somehow, he feels the urge to keep you close. 

when you come back with your school uniform on, the two of you walk again for what seems like the umpteenth time through school. still, neither of you complain - walking takes time, yet time spent with each other is always a good time spent.

“hey, suna,” you ask as the entrance gate comes near.

“yeah,” suna swallows, “y/n?”

“you live around here, right?”

he hums in reply, “just around the back.”

“oh. right.”

“why?”

his question catches you off-guard, “no, we just go in different directions. i’m at the bus stop.”

“my place passes the bus stop from here, so. i can keep walking.”

you glance at him to find his eyes on you first. “okay.”

suna’s mind comes back to earlier in the afternoon, when osamu had reacted with wide eyes at the concept of walking you home and atsumu edged on the idea of dating you. he remembers ginjima the most: ask her out, before anybody else does.

but suna knows he can’t do that - at least not yet.

for now, the back of his hand only hovers over yours, unsure and fleeting, wondering how it would feel like to have your hands intertwined.

taglist: @maitenight​ @natszoo​ @ssuna​​ @erens-piss-cleaner​​ @osamus-onigiri​​ @volleybloop @etherealiwa​​ @agaashesmilktea​​ @bicchaan​​ @anngelllla​​ @tycrackculture​​ @sins-over-tragedy​​​ @tsumuluv​​ @daichibrainrot​​ @underratedmage @sunasexual @kenmei​​ (if your url is bolded, it means i couldn’t tag you)

send an ask to be added to the taglist!

special thanks to roo @yooroomi​, as always, for beta reading this series!

[lavenderslemonade]

Playing Animal Crossing While in Quarantine HC

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Pure fluff

Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki, Kirishima, Tamaki and Aizawa: Playing Animal Crossing With Their S/O While in Quarantine

I’ve been obsessed with animal crossing these past few days! If you want to visit my island some time or just chill, DM me and I’ll send you my switch friend code!

Also, if there’s another My Hero Academia peep you want me to do that isn’t on this list, leave me a message in my inbox and I’ll do them next! Also, please feel free to leave a comment!

Midoriya

- The two of you had the game pre-ordered and once you got it the two of you became hooked. You refuse to let Midoriya onto your island till you have everything set up how you want. However, Midoriya lets you visit his island frequently. He has a little park area on his island, a little picnic area where the two of you can have little dates since he can’t take you out on real ones.

- He won’t let you in his house. You don’t know why, but he won’t. Before you can get near it you see where he’s dug holes or blocked the entrance off with large items so you can’t get through. “Midoriya, I wanna see your house.” You state one day over the phone as you keep hitting the large fish tank he’s put in front of the door with your net.

- You finally get in one day when he accidentally takes the fish tank away when he hit the wrong button, and you just bolt inside. You hear him freaking out on the other end of the phone begging you to please not look at his house. However, it’s too late. It’s...actually not that bad. He has normal rooms much to your surprise.

- Midoriya starts chasing you around his house as you scope out what he’s done with the place. Bathroom, Kitchen, Bedroom, Living room, it’s all pretty normal. Then you get to the basement. You knew it was too good to be true. His basement is nothing but All Might. Midoriyas avatar is behind you sweating and freaking out. However, you reassure him that it’s okay, you’ve seen worse. No really, you went to Minetas island to be nice, and like I said, you’ve seen worse on that island.

- If there’s something in the Nook shop that he thinks you’d like he’ll buy it for you and surprise you with it the next time you come over. If there’s a fossil you can’t find, or one or two bugs you need for Blathers then he’ll try his hardest to find them on different islands and give them to you. If your anniversary or birthday was coming up and couldn’t spend it together during quarantine, he’ll try to come up with a surprise for you.

- You leave your switch for a few minutes to open a few gifts that your relatives had sent you through the mail, and get a piece of cake that your parent(s) got for you. You keep your switch on so Midoriya can run around your island and do as he pleases. While you’re away he begins planting flowers all around your house that he’s collected. Has a little picnic set and places it in the middle of the flowers. Luckily the flowers start to attract butterflys and different insects.

- When you come back your heart is warm from the display, and the two of you spend several hours just talking and doing little things together like collecting the bugs the flowers brought in or fishing.

Bakugou

- He has a switch, but he didn’t buy the game when it first came out. Why would he? It was too cute looking for his taste and he remembers some of the girls playing that stupid background music to help them concentrate while they studied back at UA. It drove him up a damn wall then, so why would he put himself through that torture now?

- It wasn’t till he became annoyed with you that he decided to get the game. You were one of the people that had the game pre-ordered and ever since you got it, plus went under quarantine, you’ve hardly paid Bakugou a lick of attention. He was on the phone with you trying to have a conversation, but whenever it was your turn to talk or answer a question your line was just dead. He’d call out your name snapping you out of your trance, and apologize to him due to you trying to catch a butterfly.

- It was okay the first few times it happened, but then it became annoying. How your line would be quiet then randomly “If I can’t one more fucking sea bass!” blares from your end causing Bakugou to nearly drop his phone in surprise. “Are you still playing that stupid fucking game!” He’d growl into his phone. Goes onto Amazon once the two of you get off the phone and order the game. He won’t pick up whenever you try to call him, which honestly makes you feel pretty guilty.

- However, your guilt flies out the door when you see the banner come across your screen stating a visitor was arriving. You rush to the docks to see who it is and you’re surprised to see a mini Bakugou avatar walk out of the little airport. Quickly, you grab your phone and call him. You had hit the joy emote as you waited for him to pick up, and as soon as he did you couldn’t help but squeal in excitement. “I can’t believe you got the game!” You’d state excitedly as you watch your screen.

- Then an ax appeared in his hand, making the color drain from your face. “Please don’t...” You whimper. Honestly you expected him to chop down all your tree’s, however he simply chased you for about five minutes. Once he’s cooled down he listens to you gush about all the little dates the two of you can go on, giving him a tour of your island, and even showing off the big fish you’ve caught. He’s a little irked because he’s just started the game and hasn’t caught fish as big as yours yet.

- He complains about his hate for Tom Nook. You watched as he tries to hit Toms tent with an ax to no luck. He goes around your island and shakes all the fruit out of your trees much to your displeasure though he drops his own fruit from his island in front of you stating he wants you to plant them.

- Bakugou has a shirt that looks like his hero outfit that he wears most of the time. If he’s not wearing that shirt then he has a regular black shirt with a skull on it. The Bakusquad usually visits each others island, though they don’t visit Denki’s as much since it’s about just as bad as Minetas. It’s not perverted like Minetas, but it’s not really put together well and he wears the dress that looks like it’s a bikini...

- Bakugou is known to uproot Mina’s flowers when she’s not looking to give to you later, and easily gets irritated if one of the bakusquad catches a fish he was trying to get.

- He tried to name his island Hell, but that’s not allowed. So he followed Jacksepticeyes example and named it Hel

- He has a large bed in his house so that whenever you come over you can crawl in with him and pretend that the two of you are cuddling. He has Moose on his island AND HE WANTS HIM GONE!

Todoroki

- He didn’t pre-order the game before it came out, in fact he didn’t even own a switch. He’s never really been that interested in video games, and has mostly been spending his free time reading and spending time with his siblings. You keep sending him images of fish you’ve caught, the small garden you’ve set up beside your house, and when you spotted a Wisp across the water. He could tell you were having a lot of fun, and was surprised to find out that Midoriya and the rest of Class 1-A was playing the game.

- Thus, he ordered a switch and the game so he could play with everyone. He sends a picture of his avatar once he’s gotten everything set up. Though, you’re not surprised that his character has white hair instead of red. You call him and answer any questions he has, helping him learn the ropes of the game. once he’s got a good bit of things done, and Timmy and Tommys shop has been set up, you allow him to visit your island. However, he won’t let you visit his yet.

- The two of you mostly goof around collecting bugs and fish. When the sun sets you have a bench near the edge of the water that the two of you sit on together. Todoroki starts a garden on your island just for you. Yeah, you have one that you started, but he wanted to start one where it’s just flowers he’s brought you. If he’s visiting a fellow classmates island and sees a flower he thinks you’d like or would look good in the garden, he’ll take a few thousand bells and drop it at the island owners feet before typing “I want the flower.”

- They’re not complaining because they got a dept to pay. Will go straight to your island and plant the flower.

- He has Marshal AND Raymond on his island, and honestly you feel a bit jealous. He’s converted pictures of you and the two of you together from his phone to the nintendo app so he can hang up pictures of y’all in his house. His house is honestly pretty simple, just like his dorm room. He even has a bamboo noodle slide beside his house. Actually a good chunk of his island has bamboo on it now, which doesn’t surprise you.

- The two of you actually dress up your characters to go on mini dates together. It grosses Bakugou out. “Why the fuck are y’all dressed like you’re about to go someplace fancy?!” Bakugou would type out while hitting Todoroki with a net much to his annoyance. When he’s bored Todoroki would make little outfits for you and send you the QR code. You mostly wear only what Todoroki makes now.

- He insist’s on helping you pay off your debt to Tom Nook, but you won’t let him.

Kirishima

- Like Midoriya he and you both pre-ordered the game. Surprisingly he’s played the past Animal Crossings as well. Before quarantine the two of you would actually listen to soothing animal crossing music when you study or were taking a nap. Your island is more developed than his since he doesn’t want to do the time jump cheat.

- The first room he has added onto his house is turned into a gym. He gets along so well with Tank, and usually can see his character running with Tank. Sucks at designing clothes so you designed him a Red Riot costume and emailed him the QR code. He lets you design different outfits for him and will put on little fashion shows for you. The two of you usually visit Sero and Minas island together, and sometimes Bakugou when he’s on (which is rare), and Denki’s.

- Everyone clicked the surprise emote when Denki appeared in the bikini dress. The two of you will go on fishing dates together, and if he catches a cute insect or a hard to catch fish, he’ll give it to you. One of the only things he’ll try is trying to grow a money tree, which surprisingly works.

- You logged on one day for one of your dates and he stated he had a gift for you. He’d hop off the bench y’all were sitting on and give you a huge stuffed bear from the Nook store. After that he’d take you to the town square where some of his villagers were singing Bubblegum KK.

- Has a large bed so the two of you can ‘snuggle’. His house is pretty ordinary, he keeps all his workout stuff in the back room. He’s the type that uses half his island to store the fish he’s collected to he an turn them in all at once. He’ll spend two-three days collecting fish nonstop, and then selling them to Timmy and Tommy. He see’s it as just a bit of revenge for the insane dept Tom Nook has put everyone in.

- He surprisingly pays close attention to the decor of your home. If there’s something he thinks you’ll like, he’ll build it and then change it’s color so it can fit with your homes aesthetic. Both of you download the nintendo switch app and convert photos of yourselves to put in your homes. He wants to go visit Tamaki, but you try to convince him not to since you know he’ll probably cause the older boy to have an anxiety attack with how hyper he is on the game.

- The two of you decided to be nice and visit Mineta’s island a.k.a “Hentai Island”. As soon at the two of you read the title you knew you were in trouble. His avatar frequently wears a shirt that has abs on it, and somehow it’s more disturbing than Denki’s Bikini dress. He tries to flirt with you in the game “Do I look manly enough for you now (y/n)?” you can basically hear him salivating from the other side of the screen.

- After that you and Kirishima vow never to go back. He’s not allowed on either of your islands either. Kirishima allowed him over once and he just kept staring at one of the pixel images of you Kirishima has on his wall. Luckily, while he was over Kirishima accidentally shook some wasps from a tree, and while he was running away they attacked Mineta.

Tamaki

- Both of you were too busy to pre-order the game, but Fatgum knew how much both you and Tamaki enjoyed Animal Crossing. He had actually caught the two of you playing on your break on your 3DS’s. He knew that some much was going on in your lives due to it being your final school year, plus the ordeal with saving Eri. Thus, he pre-ordered two of the games as a surprise for the two of you.

- However, due to not knowing when you’d get quarantined, once the games arrived he personally mailed them out to the both of you along with a little letter. When the two of you got your copies, you were surprised and ecstatic. Both of you sent a thank you text to Fatgum and began playing right away. Both of you spent a few days to yourselves, wanting to get your island organized and to surprise each other. You tried catching all the butterflies you could to give to Blathers and make the museum’s butterfly garden as nice as it could be!

- Neither you or Tamaki time jump since you want to experience the full calming effect of Animal Crossing. Tamaki honestly feels a bit intimidated by  Bam, but he loves Fuchsia. When the two of you finally visit he each other, you insist on going to his island first. He has flowers all around Fuchsia’s home and you could see a few buds sprouting around the new homes that were being built, his way of welcoming his new villagers.

- He’s made a large garden for you at the top of his island, where none of the villagers can really disturb the two of you. Because there’s nothing more awkward than Tamaki spending time with his S/O in a romantic setting and then trying to take them to the secret spot he set up just for Dom to be sitting on the bench meant for the two of you. He doesn’t want to be mean to the villager, however, watches from the side as you pull out your net and start thwacking Dom with it till he moves.

- Tamaki watched Dom leave, before joining you on the bench, and deciding to send the sheep some flowers as an apology for making him move. But like, it was a mini date for the two of you and he really wanted to watch the meteor shower with you from that said spot. And the end of the night you give him the outdoor picnic set you needed cherry blossom petals to make.

- On your island you tried your best to collect as many butterflies as you could along with a few other insects and koi for aesthetics to surprise Tamaki with. He’s honestly shocked with home many butterflies you had caught. With the time frame of some of them it means you’ve probably been up early in the morning to late at night trying to catch specific ones. Blathers probably has nightmares now about butterflies.

- Both of you aren’t really big fans of Tom Nook, but Tamaki loves Isabelle, Timmy and Tommy. Whenever Mirio and Nejire visit, it’s chaotic. The two of you will be chilling in the town square watching Marina sing into the mic that Tamaki set up for her, meanwhile Mirio and Nejire are chasing each other with nets and beating each other over the head. Mirio accidentally plucked one of Tamaki’s flower hybrids and Tamaki quickly clicked the distressed emote.

- Tamaki takes very good care of his plant life, literally going around and watering them everyday. So you were able to replicate the hybrid and planted it in the spot where Mirio had accidentally plucked the other one.

Aizawa

- Due to your busy schedules, Aizawa has a switch lite that he plays on when he’s taking breaks at school or when he’s just resting at home. Meanwhile you have a full on switch. Both of you pre-ordered the game and play it side by side at home. Aizawa is pretty resourceful with his materials, keeping things in his storage as to not waste room and going out to collect more stuff.

- His first two villagers were Rudy and Pashmina. You watched as his eye lit up at Rudy, knowing your boyfriend was crazy for cats. He tries to follow things step by step, collecting items to sell and pay off Tom Nook and steadily becoming frustrated with the more dept the damn raccoon put him in. Meanwhile, you’re using the time jump cheat to get things done quicker and make your island look like legit paradise.

- You’ve went to his island to find him catching fish and trying to give it to Rudy. He doesn’t really use emotes. A good bit of the time you see that he’s online, thus when you go to visit his island you’re surprised to see he’s not greeting you at the docks. You go to his house and you’re not surprised to find his avatar asleep on the bed. You go to the living room to see your boyfriend passed out on the couch, his switch resting against his chest as he snoozes away.

- You frequently bop him in the head with your net when you want attention, because he’s usually focused on completing tasks for Tom Nook and selling items to Timmy and Tommy. You finally stop when he pulls out an ax and just stares at you. You peek up from your switch in your chair in the living room and just see Aizawa glaring at you from the couch. “...I love you.” You’d state with the most innocent look you can muster.

- Barold moves onto Aizawa’s island and AIZAWA WANTS HIM GONE. You’d noticed online how the character had been getting a fair amount of disapproval, but it couldn’t be that bad. Well, Aizawa led you to Barolds house and you were amazed to see the surveillance stuff he has up, and you agree with Aizawa. Boi gotta go.  

- You decide to mess with him one day so you send all his students his switch friendship code, and Momo helps you design the schools uniform for the students. Some even make their hero costumes. When he gets on one evening he’s horrified to see all his students sitting in classroom chairs in the center of his island. Some of the villagers are passing by trying to talk to them, and you’re chilling on a bench. You walk over to your boyfriend and pull out a party popper and spray confetti over him yelling “Surprise! They wouldn’t pay attention on Zoom, so I thought they’d pay attention on here!”

- He just stares you down from his side of the bed. You refuse to look up from your switch to meet his irritated gaze.

- You’re not allowed on his island for a week.

[ghostly-cabbage]

Frigid (Chapter 6)

Genre: Horror, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers  

Chapter Rating: T (Language)

Word Count: 6,435

AO3  FFN

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And here Danny thought he was done with getting punishment for the day. He hit the gym floor: hard. 

It made his vision go black for a second. Fucking ow. If he got another concussion he was going to be pissed. At this point he was giving the football players a run for their money.  

His awareness came back to him in spots at first, dancing across his vision, then all at once. Lucky for him—it was just in time to see Skulker firing another volley of ecto-missiles at him. 

Shit.

He curled up and summoned a dome shield. The projectiles exploded on contact one after the other. It deafened the sound for the most part, but he still felt like a fish whose glass bowl was being tapped on. The explosions ceased, green tinted smoke obscuring his sight.

Danny didn’t wait for the dust to settle. He dropped his shield and launched himself straight up at the place he’d last seen Skulker, fist coming into contact with the bottom of Skulker’s chin. The ghost grunted, sailing upward and punching a second hole through the roof of the gym. 

Danny cringed as glass, broken light fixtures, and wood fell down. At least it was the weekend. There’d probably be enough time to patch it up. What was a little more property damage on his record, right? 

Ugh.

“For once you had great timing,” Danny said to the empty room. His legs melded together into his tail and he listened carefully to his surroundings. “If I didn’t know any better, Skulker, I’d almost think you’re stalking me.” There was a beat, before the sound of a net launching from a gun broke the silence. Danny twisted on instinct, narrowly dodging the net. It whooshed past and stuck to the wall behind him.

Skulker returned to visibility. He floated across from Danny, scowling. 

He growled. “Silence, whelp. It’s easier to lure you out when you’re not busy being a prisoner in this human infested place.” 

Well, that was half of it at least.

“Aw, so you do care about my schedule. I’m touched.” Danny pressed the palm of his hand over his core. His tail flicked and he crossed his arms. “But you know that shit you just pulled isn’t going to fly.” 

“Please, Ghost Child,” Skulker sneered. “I was merely toying with those puny humans. I wasn’t going to harm them.” 

“Ever heard of psychological trauma?” Danny dead-panned. He didn’t wait for an answer and fired an ecto-blast straight at Skulker’s chest. It connected with a hollow crack and Skulker let out a shout. He dropped ten feet before catching himself. Danny rushed forward, aiming a kick to the side of his face. 

Skulker held up his arm, blocking the blow with the back of his forearm. The force of the kick resounded against the metal with a clang. 

Danny pulled back out of close range, noting the sizable dent in Skulker’s arm. 

Skulker roared and held up his arm to fire a wrist-ray. Danny strafed to the side, expecting the hot fizzle of an ecto-ray. But nothing happened. 

They both paused, Skulker's eyes narrowing. He inspected his dented arm. 

“Now look what you’ve done, brat.” 

Danny lifted his arms in an exaggerated shrug. 

Skulker held his arm out, attempting to fire the ray again. Nothing. The ghost made a frustrated sound. 

“Here, maybe this’ll help.” Danny’s breath went icy as he shot a jagged spike of ice at Skulker's arm. He watched with giddy satisfaction as the ice punctured and tore a hole through the metal. 

Skulkers arm exploded. 

Danny squinted against the flash of green, going intangible to avoid the metal shrapnel. He blinked the inverted spot from his vision. Skulker’s arm was completely gone, leaving nothing but a jagged hole with wires that stuck out, arcing thin forks of electricity. Danny bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He floated on his stomach, steepling his hands underneath his chin.

“Sucks, man. You never wanna overload a jammed ecto-weapon.” He clicked his tongue three times in a row, shaking his head. “You’d think such a great hunter would know that.” 

“Of course I knew that!” he snapped. “You’ll pay for this, Ghost Child.”  

“Oh no, I’m so terrified,” he said, grin plastered across his face. Man, two days of R&R really did a ghost some good.  

“Insolent whelp,” Skulker said. A mechanical arm extended from his back, unleashing a football-length green rocket that headed straight for Danny. It looked like a homing missile. 

Danny shot upwards out through the bigger of the two holes. He put on the brakes, and skirted to the side just as the missile zipped up past him. He let energy build in his palm. 

The thing about homing missiles was most of them weren’t great with tight turns. The rocket spluttered as it twisted to come straight back down. It made it an easy target. 

He fired an ecto-blast. It exploded on contact in a brilliant sphere of green. Danny phased back down through the roof. The explosion shook the lights, making them flicker more, but it’d been far enough up it didn’t cause any other damage. 

Danny twisted in mid-air and flew at Skulker. His eyes widened and he turned his defenseless side away from Danny, back-peddling. 

He fired an ecto-ray at Skulkers undamaged shoulder. He didn’t pack as much power into it as he could have. He banked, cutting an elliptical circle while holding the ray on target.

“You know, as much as I appreciate the practice, we’ve gotta stop having these here at school.” He didn’t let up on the beam until he’d flanked Skulker. He zipped in while the ghost was still recovering. 

He went with the same roundhouse that Skulker had blocked before. His foot slammed into the side of Skulker’s head, sending the hunter spinning sideways. Danny charged a blast in his palm. He lifted up his left hand and squinted his right eye closed, using his thumb to line up his shot. Who said he was only a show off when people were watching? 

At the moment Skulker stopped tumbling and righted himself, Danny unleashed his blast. It hissed through the air and Skulker had no hope of dodging it. It slammed into the shoulder joint of Skulker's good arm which, already weakened by Danny’s ray, popped off like the limb of a cheap action figure. 

Skulker let out a wordless scream of frustration. 

A smug grin worked its way onto Danny’s face. He was getting too damn good at this, if you asked him. 

Danny closed the gap between them. He grabbed the holes where Skulker's shoulders should have been and somersaulted forward, flipping the ghost over his head. Danny threw him down, directly into a basketball hoop. 

Skulker, of course, being much larger than a basketball, didn’t make it through. Instead, his head wedged into the hoop, his legs churning helplessly in the air. 

Danny spluttered. “Oh my God.” He burst into laughter, wrapping his arms around his stomach. 

“Oh my God, I wish I had my phone. That worked even better than I thought it would, holy shit.” He dropped a few feet in the air involuntarily.

“Laugh while you can, Ghost Child,” Skulker grunted. He could easily phase out, but he seemed to know when he was defeated.  

Danny leaned back, rotating upside down in the air as he laughed. “Of all times that Sam and Tuck aren't here.” He wiped a tear from under his eye. “Hey— Hey, Skulker.” He flew up to Skulker. 

He glared at Danny through the net. 

“This is what we kids today call getting fucking dunked on.” Danny snorted and descended into more laughter. 

“You’re enjoying this far too much, whelp.” 

Danny held his sides until the hilarity of the visual started to die down. His breathing evened out and the tickle in his chest faded.

“Hey, the amount of times you’ve trapped me in something awful, I think I deserve this.” He sighed, content, his shoulders sagging as a last chuckle left him. “This is exactly what I needed after detention today.” Danny reached for the thermos on his belt. 

“Anyway—” he uncapped the thermos “—same time next week, then?” He pressed the button and the thermos kicked on. He pointed the beam at Skulker, watching as it dragged his warping form into its confines. 

The thermos dimmed and Danny twirled it in his palm, blowing the wisps of smoke from its end. He really needed to empty it when he got home today. 

“What is that? How’d it do that?” 

“Holy F—” Danny jumped. The thermos slipped from his grasp and he fumbled it a few times before he caught it and pulled it back against his chest. He turned towards the voice, shocked to see a familiar face. 

Wesley-fucking-Weston.

He was peeking in through a gap of a gym door.

What the fuck? 

“Uh... How long have you been standing there?”

And how the hell had Danny let a human sneak up on him? Let alone some gangly asshole who didn’t seem to have an ounce of self-preservation in his whole body? 

Wesley hesitated, scanning the gymnasium again. He stepped the rest of the way into the gym. 

“Uhm, for a bit?” 

“Right… and where’s your friends?” Danny slowly floated backwards. 

Why was this dude determined to be up in his business? As afraid as Wesley looked the first day of school, Danny thought he wouldn’t willingly get within a mile of another ghost. Guess he was wrong.

“I ditched them and snuck back into the building,” he said, like it was obvious. “People here at school say you’re a ‘good’ ghost,” he added. Danny’s eyes drifted around the room as he contemplated turning invisible and flying through the roof. 

Was he going somewhere with this or…? 

“Are you?” 

His eyes snapped back down to Wesley. 

He cleared his throat.“Uh. I try to be?” Danny was no stranger to students at Casper approaching him after a fight to try and talk or even flirt with him. He shuddered at the amount of times Paulina or even Dash had asked him to hangout or go get something to eat. 

But this wasn't like those times. Danny hated to admit he was genuinely intrigued, and even impressed by Wesley’s audacity. 

“If you’re unsure enough to be asking, why would you come alone?” He hadn’t meant it to be threatening, but Wesley took half a step back towards the door. He licked his lips. 

“Because I have questions about ghosts.” 

 Danny’s face twisted. He hooked the thermos back on his waist and ran a gloved hand through his hair. “Why ask me? Listen— there’s plenty of people in Amity that know about ghosts. You don’t need to ask a real one.” 

Wesley lifted a hand and rubbed at his temple. “Yeah, but all they ever talk about is you. Either how great you are or how you’re secretly a menace to society.” 

Huh, he must have talked to Valerie. 

“Then what question is important enough you decided to approach a ‘dangerous’ ghost… by yourself?” 

“I just—I want to know why ghosts here are so different, and who better to ask than an actual ghost? I guess I figured with how much people drool over you that you were the least likely to kill me. I mean you could’ve on the first day if you’d wanted to… There’s obviously some truth to what people say about you.”  

Danny blinked. Okay, that made some sense. But then… 

“Why do you want to know that specifically?” 

Wesley turned his head. “It’s personal.” 

...Alright, sure. 

He let out a long suffering sigh.

“Listen, I hate to disappoint, Person-I’ve-Never-Met-Before, but I haven’t really been outside of Amity Park much…” He knew the answer, of course he did, but he didn’t exactly go around as Phantom spouting off his ghost knowledge. There were things about ecto-biology he knew that only a Fenton would know... and some things only a half-ghost would know.

Wesley looked stricken. It was a weird look on him.

“But you’re still a ghost, can’t you just—” he flexed his hands in front of him like he was trying to grasp something— “make an informed guess?” 

Ugh, God.

Danny dragged a hand down over his face. 

Fine. 

“If I tell you what I think, will you actually get the hell outta dodge the next time there’s a fight?” When people tried to stick around, they were more likely to get caught in the cross-fire. While Danny wasn’t exactly fond of the dude, that didn’t mean he wanted Wesley hurt. The thought of him or anyone getting hurt because of him made him twitch; he ignored the spike of nervous energy that thrashed in his core. 

Wesley looked up at him, blinking green eyes. 

“Wait, that’s it?” 

“I’m dead, dude. What else could I want?” He’d love for Wesley to leave him, Fenton him, alone entirely. But he’d take what he could get.

Wesley faltered. “I dunno.” He muttered something else under his breath, something a normal human would have missed: “doesn’t make sense why you’d want that either though.” 

Danny shook his head and floated down a bit. “If I had to guess, it’d be because of the portal.” 

“Portal?” 

“Yeah, the Fenton Ghost Portal?” That at least was common knowledge around Amity now.

Wesley squinted his eyes. 

“You haven't heard of it?” Danny asked, exasperated.

“I don’t know! I’m new here!”

“Clearly.” 

Wesley made a face like he was about to say something stupid. “Okay, sure, there’s a portal. What’s it have to do with ghosts?”

Holy hell. 

Why was he doing this again?

“It’s’a portal directly into the Ghost Zone, dude,” he said incredulously. “Ya’know, The Infinite Realms? Land of the Dead?”

Wesley paled. 

“Wait that’s… How’s that possible?” 

“How should I know? Do I look like a scientist to you?” 

“I mean… Kinda?” He gestured vaguely to Danny’s person. 

He looked down. Oh yeah, hazmat suit. Right. 

Danny wiggled in place. “Not the point, alright? Are you going to keep interrupting me?”

Wesley made a face. “You’re the one asking me questions!” 

Danny waved a hand, flustered. “Okay, okay, shut up.” God, Wesley was so annoying. “Portals open up naturally all over the world, ‘kay? Well, here in Amity there’s a stable portal that stays open, meaning a constant influx of Ectoplasm. Ectoplasm is an energy source.” 

“Which means...?” 

“I’m getting there.” He twitched his tail. A motion which seemed to confuse Wesley, if his expression was anything to go by.  

“Ghosts are made of ectoplasm, and use it for energy blah, blah.” Danny twirled a hand. “What I’m saying is that here, ghosts have almost constant access to the Ghost Zone and Ectoplasm. It means unlimited energy. Ghosts without access to ecto-energy have to try and build up energy from other ambient sources like electronics, peoples emotions, weather, you name it. It takes forever to build up enough to materialize or interact with humans or solid objects. So ghosts in other places are probably less solid, making sightings and interactions fewer and far between.” Danny blew out a breath. “That answer your question?”  

Wesley was silent for a second, face wrinkled in thought.

“I guess… That makes sense—but—” 

“Cool, glad to help. Well, this has been—something. But I’ve gotta—” Danny started, only to get interrupted when someone burst through the gym door. Wesley jumped, letting out a less than manly yelp. 

It was a basketball player with tan skin and broad shoulders. One of the Seniors if Danny remembered right.

“Jesus Christ, dude, there you are! Do you have a death wish or—” the dude stopped short as his eyes landed on Danny. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “P—Phantom!” He had that deer-in-the-headlights look that people gave him. 

“Hi.” He held up a hand in greeting. “Anyway, I got the ghost, so…” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m just gonna...” 

He went invisible and headed in the direction of the nearest supply closet. He still had to get his stuff before he went home. 

“Imma big fan!” the basketball player called after him into the empty air. He smiled and shook his head as he phased through the wall of the gym. 

- 

Danny was half-way down the hall from the entrance, human once again with his bag heavy on his shoulder, when the doors flung open and two familiar silhouettes filled the entryway. 

Oh no. 

“Everyone outta the way! That ghost won’t know what hit it once we—” His dad’s booming voice stopped when he saw him. 

“Danny?” his mom called. She pushed past his dad and lowered her ecto-weapon. “Sweetie, what are you doing? Are you okay?” She hurried up to him. The surface of her goggles made it impossible for him to see anything but his own reflection. Her voice was tight and gentle as she grabbed him by the chin, turning his face this-way-and-that to suss out any injury. 

Danny silently thanked whatever higher-power might be listening that he didn’t have any bruises on his face. His back was probably another story. He hadn’t stayed in ghost-form long enough to heal it. His backpack hurt everywhere it was in contact with him. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, leaning away and trying to wave her off. Her hand dropped and she gripped him by his shoulder. 

“One of your teachers called and said there was a ghost and the alarm wasn’t working.”

“Oh, that’s crazy. Why didn’t it go off?” 

Dad came up to stand next to his mom, Fenton Bazooka hefted on his shoulder. 

“Don’t know Dann-o, but we intend to find out!” 

“Uhm, I heard stuff coming from the gym a bit ago actually.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sufferin’ spooks! Come on, Mads, before we miss it!” His dad said and took off down the hall. 

His mom took a few steps to leave before she turned to him. “We’re going to be having a talk about your detention today, so no going to Sam or Tucker’s, alright?” 

He sighed and shoved his left hand in his hoodie pocket. Of course Mrs. Merriweather had called his parents. 

“Fine,” he huffed. 

“Love you, hun!” And then she was off. 

Detention during the first week. His parents must be so proud. He ran his fingers through his hair, digging his fingertips in and messaging his scalp, mussing his hair.

He’d said he’d try harder this year, and he’d meant it. Even though it didn’t feel like it there had been a steady downtick of ghost attacks. Had been since after Pariah Dark and that whole mess. Hell, even the thing with Skulker was more like a game nowadays than it was serious. 

But that didn’t mean all ghosts felt the same way. Especially the ones that popped up now and again to “test their skills on the one who’d bested Pariah Dark in combat”. Those were the worst.   

Danny pulled his phone from his pocket and opened the group chat. 

Dead “Allegedly”: Hey Tuck did u disable the school ghost alarm? 

He wasn’t even at the bottom of the Casper steps when a reply chimed in. 

Hacker (Derogatory): Nah, man. I wish tho 

Emo’s Not Dead: Why? 

Dead “Allegedly”: Just wondering, Skulker showed up and the alarm didn’t work or smth

Hacker (Derogatory): huh, maybe he disabled them? 

Dead “Allegedly”: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

…

My parents know I got detention so I can’t hangout tonight. Didn’t say anything about games tho, Doomed later? 

Emo’s Not Dead: Hell yeah, hope you guys are ready to get owned lmao 

Hacker (Derogatory): Bro, do you even have to ask? I’ve been working on a new loadout and not to brag but it’s pretty sick 

Danny rolled his eyes and put his phone back in his pocket. The Ghost Assault Vehicle was parked up over the curb and onto the grass in front of the school. Dad must’ve drove. He didn’t really want to walk, he needed to make sure he had enough time to sneak into the lab and flush the thermos. 

He walked up to the back of the GAV and pulled the handle. The door unlatched and swung open. Another thing that proved Dad drove. He never remembered to lock the GAV or the Speeder. 

Danny hopped in and tugged the door closed behind him. He reached for his core and the icy transformation washed over him. It eased the ache in his back and he breathed out a sigh of relief. He turned invisible and slipped up through the roof. He turned towards home and started flying. 

The sun hadn’t set yet, and wouldn't for another hour or so, but the shadows were still long. He could feel the sun’s dull warmth through the material of his jumpsuit. The nights were already getting longer and colder. The wind whisked past him with the type of fall chill that cut straight through sweaters and coats. The streets and cars blurred underneath him and a thought bubbled up from the back of his mind. 

He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel cold. 

Not in the human way, the “coming in from outside and sinking into soft blankets with a cup of hot cocoa” kind of way. The negative temperatures of the Far Frozen, of space, hadn’t fazed him since his cryo-core settled.

Like a stone settling in his stomach, he wondered what else he’d start to forget about being fully alive as the years went by. He tried to push the thought into the back of his mind.

The amalgamous shape of the Ops Center glinted in the evening light ahead of him. Danny flew around the side of the building and phased through the wall directly into his bedroom. He tossed his bag towards his desk.

He turned human again a few feet above his bed. He let gravity take hold of him, falling onto the mattress. He bounced a bit before sinking into its surface. His back felt better already. He sighed, wondering if he could get away with a nap before dinner. 

Maybe. Provided a ghost didn’t show up. 

He peeled himself up off the bed and crouched by his bag. He snatched the thermos and headed downstairs. 

The portal hummed, the only noise in the otherwise silent lab. His soft-soled sneakers patted quietly over the metal panel floor. Danny uncapped the thermos and flushed its occupants back into the Ghost Zone. He puffed some hair out of his eyes and closed the now empty thermos. 

Right. Nap. Suffer through the “you need to try harder young man” talk. Then Doomed. It was their second “weekend” this week. He wanted to try and have some fun. After the shitty start to the week he deserved it.  He’d worry about his homework later.  

***

Saturday night brought dark roiling storm clouds that blotted out the stars. The wind howled, stripping orange and red leaves off their branches. The air tasted of rain and stray drops peppered the grey pavement beneath him.

Danny flipped up the hood of his hoodie as he skirted the edge of Amity’s Central Park. Just because he was immune to the cold didn’t mean he liked being rained on. He could stay intangible if he wanted but he was way too lazy for that. 

He flew a languid loop in the air as he changed directions to head towards the mall. It’d been a quiet patrol, nothing out of the ordinary. 

Which, on a night like this, made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. There was a lightning storm building up high in the clouds—which meant more ambient energy. He could feel it the same way he could feel heavy concentrations of ecto-energy. The buzz on his skin, soupy and dense. It tore him in two directions, amped on the energy and nauseous at the feeling of electricity. 

Why couldn’t it have been a snow storm? 

He tucked his gloved hands into the pocket of his hoodie and meandered over the parking lot, careful to fly below the power lines and telephone poles. 

A shiver prickled down his spine and he hiccupped over a cloud of mist. Yep, right on time. He heard distant screams coming from the mall.

He perked up, shooting towards it, the roof of the mall a grey streak. As he got closer he could tell what part of the mall he was headed towards. 

Best Buy. Great. 

Danny heard glass shatter and a stream of floating electronics burst out through the sides and ceiling windows of the mall, a maniacal cackling laugh from above him. 

“Technus,” Danny acknowledged, eyes narrowing. The levitating electronics whisked past him and circled Technus. 

“Oh, yes! It is indeed I, Technus!” he cried. His voice grated on Danny’s ears and he pushed his hood back down with a hand. 

“What’s up? Mad I wiped the floor with your boyfriend on Friday?” Danny grinned, floating up to be eye level with Technus. 

The ghost choked, swallowing his laugh.

“What— I— No! How dare you, Child,” he snapped. The wind whipped past them. “I’m here for my own gain! How dare you insinuate that Skulker and I are anything more than—” 

“Huh, I never mentioned Skulker specifically,” Danny said dumbly, tapping a finger against his chin. 

“Why you—” Technus lifted a hand and a clump of electronics flew at Danny. He dodged with a laugh. 

“Everyone knows, it’s okay,” Danny called. He forced energy into his hand, flinging a few blasts at Technus. 

The other ghost ducked under one, blocking the other with a wall of technology. He glared at Danny and pulled the machines towards himself. Like pieces to a puzzle, the tech slotted onto his skin, creating a makeshift canon. 

“You know, Child, the capabilities of modern technology grow faster and more powerful by the year.” The cannon whirred, the inside going from black to a glowing green. “Can you guess who that benefits most?” Technus said over the wind. It fired and Danny scrambled to bring up a shield in time. 

 “You’re fast as ever, child, but we’ll see how well you can stand up to a few more!” He fired, this time the ecto-blast hit harder. Hairline cracks appeared in Danny’s shield. 

Uh-oh. 

With a whine the cannon shot again. Danny dove straight for the ground just as it shattered his shield. Technus laughed. 

Okay, so he needed to avoid getting hit by that, holy shit. Danny glared up at Technus. His mind churred, trying to come up with a way to get an opening to use the thermos. If he could just—

A flash of pink streaked through the sky. It struck Technus in the center of his back and he dropped with a scream onto the roof of the mall. The technology, no longer being controlled, started to rain down. 

A red flash and the sound of a jet sled drew Danny’s attention. 

Valerie.

She twisted mid-air, the nose of her board pivoting as she drifted to a stop. 

“Hey, Red!” he called out to her. She turned her head towards him, the eye panel of her mask reflecting his cold glow. 

“Phantom,” she said. It didn’t hold as much of its usual contempt. She must be in a good mood. She also wasn’t shooting at him. He smiled and decided he’d try his luck. 

“How about a truce?” He flew towards her. 

“Why would I do that when you haven’t told me anything about that new ghost?” 

Danny’s shoulders sagged. “I told you already that I don’t know anythinnnnnggg.”

“And I already said I don’t believe you.” 

Danny let his legs fade into his tail and he flew an anxious figure-eight. 

“Come on, Red! It’s Technus!” He stuck his arms out to gesture down to the ghost. “We hate Technus!”

“Hey! I resent that, Ghost Child!” Technus yelled from where he was picking himself up and dusting himself off. 

Danny gestured more insistently. 

Valerie crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot on her sled. “Oh yeah, he brings back such great memories.” 

Oh. Wait. He shouldn’t have— 

“Like that time you almost killed me!” She snapped. 

“Red, I’ve told you before that I knew—”

“‘—knew it wasn’t me’ blah blah blah.” She opened and closed her hand in a talking motion. “So you say, Ghost.” 

“We can hash it out again later! But can we take care of Technus now please? Because he’s sort of escaping.” 

Valerie looked down to see that Technus was, in fact, fleeing, electronics clumping into a massive platform beneath him as he flew away. She sighed. 

“Fine, Ghost Boy. Truce.” 

“Yes!” Danny peeled off in a blur, Valerie right behind him. Val was a great ally when he could convince her to team up. He hoped she secretly thought the same of him. 

Valerie was stubborn and could clearly hold a grudge like no other. But over the years, it felt more like she chased him out of obligation. Like she couldn’t admit she might be wrong about him. So she just did what they’d always done. 

Danny didn’t blame her. There was real anger and frustration behind her words when she talked to him, but he’d be stupid not to notice she missed her shots on purpose these days. 

Technus turned and fired his arm cannon at them as they caught up. Danny skirted to the left, rolling into a loose corkscrew, flying underneath Technus’s floating pile of technology and popping up on the ghost’s right. He unleashed a ghost-ray at Technus with so much force it carried him off the makeshift platform. 

The ghost caught himself in flight with a triumphant cackle. It died in his throat as he looked up.

Valerie was right on top of him. A pink blast of ecto-energy hissed through the raging air and into Technus’ arm cannon. The tech burst into pieces, falling in a black heap to the ground. 

“You think that would slow me down, you stupid girl?!” Technus sneered, flying backwards. He sent a ghostly clump of appliances careening into her path. She pulled up at the last second. 

“You children just don’t know when to stop meddling in other people's business, do you?” 

“Nope,” Danny called as he flew by, firing a barrage of ecto-blasts. Technus brought up a shield that deflected them. “Maybe don’t steal shit and trash the mall every two months and I’ll think about it.” 

Valerie came in from the other side, rapid firing with her hand held blaster. Danny flanked him, an ice-ray at the ready. A few shots found their target before Technus moved his shield. He screeched over the wind. 

Technus held out a hand and a crackling ball of electricity built up. It snapped and flickered yellowish green. The sky above them heaved.

Technus held out his hand towards Danny and they locked eyes. 

Danny came to a dead stop in the air. His core stuttered in his chest. Fear, raw and paralyzing, crashed through him like a freight train. For a second he thought he might black out, fall like a stone from the air. They stared at each other. 

He wouldn’t.

Technus knew better. 

He couldn’t.  

With a stunned blink, Technus moved his hand and released the electrical charge far from Danny. It went wide and collided with the mall sign. The sign exploded like it’d been struck by lightning. Plastic and glass flew through the air, and with a terrible creak the pole swayed before falling into the parking lot like a felled tree. It narrowly missed a car.

Danny let out a shaky breath, trying to still the tremble in his hands. It was raining harder now, pinpricks of cold slicking down his hair.

“Phantom, what’re you doing just floating there? Move!” Valerie said, slowing down just enough to talk before speeding off again. 

Right. He needed to snap out of it.

He shook his head and started flying. Technus was still trying to get away with all his stolen tech. 

Danny let out a slow breath, trying to hold it steady. He reached for the cold and tried to get a lead on Technus. His hand glowed blue as he shot an ice-ray into the clump of electronics. He let out a yelp and wobbled in the air. 

Danny tilted and flew closer to Val.

“Red, keep him distracted, I’ll try and get him in the thermos,” he said, unhooking it from his belt. 

“Don’t tell me what to do, ghost,” she growled. “...but fine. You better get him though. I have my own shit to do.” 

“Would it kill you to use my name once in a while?”

She pointed her blaster at him. 

“Okay! Okay! I get it, sheesh.” He held up a hand and dropped back, letting Valerie move ahead. She went after Technus with no mercy, throwing ghost grenades and raining ecto-blasts down on him. 

 Technus reassembled his cannon, trying to hold his own. He fired at Valerie but she was nimble, avoiding each one. 

“Would you hold still!” Technus snapped, bracing himself against the kick of his ecto-gun. 

Danny grinned and went invisible. Having someone to draw the fire was always useful. He circled Technus, sneaking up behind him, uncapping the thermos as he got close. 

“Hey, tell Skulker I said hi.” Technus whirled around just in time to see the barrel of the thermos illuminate. His eyes stretched wide and an angry noise was all that escaped him as the thermos pulled him in. 

All the technology that Technus had been controlling broke apart and pelted towards the ground. 

Shit. 

He reached out with his powers, catching as much as he could. He winced at the mental strain. He didn’t use his telekinesis for this magnitude of stuff very often. He needed to practice it more, it was still relatively new after all.

 Most, if not all of the technology, was busted, but that didn’t mean he wanted to let it destroy more stuff. He guessed that a refrigerator landing on a car wouldn’t buff out easily. 

He maneuvered the electronics towards the curb in front of the Best Buy, setting it all down as gently as he could. He breathed a sigh of relief and wiped rain from his face with a sleeve. 

“Nice, thanks for the help, Red.” He shot her a smile. 

She holstered her weapon. “You better put that ghost back where it belongs.” 

“I always do,” Danny said. “See ya next time?”

Valerie hummed. “We’ll see.” Danny expected her to jet off, but she lingered. “You mean what you said about that new ghost?” 

Danny folded his legs underneath him and sat in mid-air. 

“Cross my heart hope to die,” he said with a grin.

She groaned. 

“But, yeah. I don’t know what her deal is. She didn’t seem very interested in throwing hands with me, that’s for sure.” 

Valerie held her chin. “Weird... The last few new ghosts have destroyed half the town trying to get to you.” The last bit of her sentence took on a suspicious tone. 

He held up his hands. “Hey, I don’t know either. It’s not like I like getting pounded flat every few months, Red.” 

“Why do they want to fight you specifically?” 

“I don’t know,” he lied with a shrug. He looked up at the clouds, blinking through the rain. “Could be the whole ‘Protector of Amity Park Thing’.”

Val scoffed. “Oh, please.” Danny could imagine that she was rolling her eyes. “So... what? They want to get you out of here to claim Amity for themselves?” 

“Who knows. Probably.”

“Is this where I’m supposed to say how glad I am that we have you instead of one of them?” Her voice was testy, a tone Danny knew well. 

“Your words not mine.” He gave her a lopsided smile, forcing down the discomfort worming through his gut. He should leave before she got too worked up. He had one too many scars from when she’d decided a truce was over.  

“Well, it’s been nice. But we should get out of this rain. We’ll catch our death out here. Hah!” He pointed finger guns at Valerie. 

“Phantom… I’m gonna give you a ten second head start—” 

Danny turned tail and flew, a genuine laugh working it’s way up from his chest.

[idk-my-aesthetic]

Ok the whole thing w/ clogging up ao3 tags is stupid for multiple reasons, like how it fucks with screen readers for one, but the MAJOR issue is that having too many tags isn’t actually a problem w/ ao3

Like seriously guys? There is a lot to criticize. And I say this as someone who heavily relied on fandom spaces to get me through some really really hard times and still loves ao3. I can say I love what it does for fandom while also acknowledging there’s some seriously fucked up shit going on both behind the scenes and with ppl who use the site. It’s literally like saying “I love tumblr but I acknowledge there are literal nazis on here and as a Jew/human with a working brain I hate them and that they’ve been here so long”

Like. I get u think ur sticking it to the man or whatever. And idk I partially agree bc. There’s so much nasty shit and some technically illegal shit that I don’t want to even mention! But ur not even wasting the moderators time or anything ur just being obnoxious and then everyone starts discoursing on tumblr and I’m legitimately tired of it. I don’t wanna see ppl defending gross stuff and I’m tired of talking about the ppl who do defend gross stuff bc I don’t wanna remember that they exist bc I have shit to do irl and not enough space in my brain for them

So. Idk ima propose at least a temporary solution before I have to hear one more argument for or against censorship bc y’all seriously don’t understand how to have a nuanced conversation

How about instead of asking AO3 to take down gross fics (which may or may not be morally correct but will 100% reopen a very over done conversation) instead we ask for some specific plausible things

1) when you use ao3 explicit and unrated fics are automatically filtered out. They do this on ff.net. Yes it may be like 2 extra clicks for ppl who wanna read explicit stuff but ppl who don’t are going to do that anyway, and it protects the people who don’t know to do that and don’t want to read graphic tags. Most importantly it requires consent to browse explicit fics. Yeah you need to give consent to read explicit stuff, but you can look through the incredibly graphic tags/summaries without consenting to anything. It’s literally the default. Which is both upsetting to ppl who don’t wanna see that and also maybe a bit of a legal loophole they should close up

2) a “suggest tags” feature. This would be moderated by authors not ao3 staff. Basically ppl can like..... idk entire a series of tags and you can choose if you want to add them or not. The person submitting them has an option to be anonymous or not. Obviously the author doesn’t have to add every random tag and it might be annoying but it would help with making sure triggers got tagged. It would be helpful if it didn’t let you suggest tags that were already suggested/on the fic but I’m not too picky. Like I said the point of this is to make sure ppl can block stuff properly, and it honestly might also help authors with visibility bc like. Obviously you know the tags you use but you don’t know what tags other ppl look for. Again maybe it may be obnoxious with ppl having a lot of tags but people already have a lot of tags

3) a dispute rating button. Now before someone bitches at me that the ao3 moderators don’t have time to go through disputes- I know I already took that into consideration. Basically the idea is when you dispute the rating the site will ask you what rating you think it should be and anonymously log it. So if someone rated something M but you think it should be an E the site will log that and send a message to the author. The author has a choice if they actually want to listen to ppl and change the rating or not. They don’t actually have to listen to the ppl disputing the rating. Unless they get a certain amount of disputes. I was thinking maybe like 50 or so?* So if 50 ppl say “hey this really needs to have a different rating” then and only then would the moderators take a look at the fic. And the moderators would then figure out what the rating should be.

(*idk if 50 is the right #. I was thinking it should maybe work on like a percentage of your hits in the fic?)

3.5) have a sexual content marker. This is marked as 3.5 bc i feel like this idea if implemented would be misused. But yeah in theory you could just have a sexual content marker that could be clicked by the OP and then automatically filtered. Again you could use the system from #3 but again I feel like ppl would missuse it.

Anyway yeah. I wanted to give some viable solutions ppl on both sides might actually agree with. Like I get not wanting to make concessions with gross ppl, but it’s a lot faster so I’m ok with doing it for now while the rest of y’all continue to debate or w/e

Final note- please for the love of g-d learn how ratings work. Ask someone else’s opinion if you have too. I have seen so many explicit fics marked as mature or teen it’s a legitimate problem. I’ll give a quick rundown of what each rating means but pls guys

General- g- basically go by what you’d see in a Disney cartoon

Teen- pg/pg 13 - there are swears there’s violence, sex may be mentioned, you might call someone sexy or smthn idc, but no one is shown having sex or or discussing/thinking about it in detail

Mature- R - injuries/gore may be described with more detail. Uhh there could be some heavy making out and the characters might talk about sex or feeling sexually attracted to someone. But actual sex is not shown!! If you have to mention or refer to someone’s genetalia in any sexual way you should probably move it up to an E. Even if ur characters are fully clothed the entire time. Also If you’re talking about kinks outside of a quick joke or reference you should probably move it up to an E.

Explicit- NC 17- sexually explicit content. (You can put non-sexual violent stuff under here but most ppl leave it under mature)

TLDR/oversimplification(for the ratings) -

General: nothing sexual

Teen: implied sex

Mature: refrenced sex

Explicit: shown sex

General tldr:

Some criticisms of Ao3 are valid and needed, and some are just stupid and infuriating (specifically talking about the tag thing stop it’s annoying and ableist). There is constant arguments and drama surrounding those criticisms, and I decided to offer some solutions that actually have a chance at getting implemented, even if I would prefer a different option.

[samthemarvelfan]

Bloom for Me: One Shot

Summary: Bucky Barnes is number one on the list of people who piss you off. Good ole Cap doesn’t seem to care, and you’re sent on a mission at the behest of Dr. Banner. The tension is so thick, you could cut it with a knife. ...but what kind of tension is it, exactly?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings: SMUT...with plot! Angst, and a lil dash of fluff. 18+ ONLY

A/N: SEX POLLEN FIC. I DID IT YALL. I finished a story I’ve held hostage for 3 months lol In honor of Seb’s bday...enjoy! <3

“I cannot express to you how much I’m not going to do this.” You gripe, arms crossed as you glare across the conference room at Steve.

“Ella, please—it’s less than a day. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” He scolded.

You scoffed, “I’m actually making it quite easy. Send someone else, Steve. I’m not doing it.” You stand from you seat, with all intents being to walk out the door, when you hear a chuckle.

“Told ya, Pal. That’s a $20, fair and square.” He said.

He being James Buchanan Barnes; also known as Bucky.

Also known as a pain in the fucking ass.

You stop abruptly, spinning on your heel to face them. “What was that, Barnes?” You seethe.

“It’s nothing, Ella.” Steve said to you, before turning a glare to his friend. “Drop it, Buck...” He warned.

Bucky walked over to where Steve was standing, putting both hands on his shoulders as he passed by.

“Oh, come on now, Steve. I told you she’d whine about it—that was less than 40 seconds right? I’ll take my $20.” He joked with his friend.

You stomped toward Bucky. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He laughed again. That smug, sarcastic, arrogant laugh. “Me and my pal over here like to place bets on just how much whining we’ll have to hear from you; I do anyway. This time it was ‘Let’s see how long it takes Ella to start acting like a fucking toddler.’”

Your heart hurt a bit at his words. You expect this kinda shit from him, but Steve? Does he feel that way about you, too?

“Ella he doesn’t—“

Steve tried to speak, but Bucky cut him off. “I mean anytime—anytime you’re paired of with me for a mission, you’re always tryna get out of it. You’re like a kid bargaining to not eat their vegetables.”

He stood in front of you now, towering your small frame. “Being friends isn’t a fucking job requirement. Stop acting like a spoiled brat, do the work and get out. Ain’t that right, Steve?”

You and Bucky—believe it or not, were kinda friends at one point.

He’d been one of the only people to properly welcome you to the team, and for a few weeks you were starting to get to know each other well.

Until you had your first solo mission with him. Bucky hadn’t communicated his location, despite your attempt to find him for more than 20 minutes. You needed to blow the building before the targets escaped.

Unfortunately, you forgot to clear your surroundings and you ended up held hostage by a HYDRA agent. Until Bucky burst through the room like a maniac, saving you and the mission.

Since then, he’d been distant, even cold toward you. When you did see him, the two of you couldn’t get along. Passive aggressive comments, name calling, even down right fighting during training sessions were the norm now with Bucky.

You watched the two men. Steve, who’s head was hung low with embarrassment, and Bucky, who’s smug grin you wanted to wipe against the concrete.

“Fuck this. Fuck you both.” You strained. You wanted to cry, but you wouldn’t. Not yet. Not in front of him.

As you make your way out the door, you hear Bucky call out sarcastically, “What? Was it something I said?”

“Why do you do that to her?” Steve asked him.

Bucky felt the shit-eating grin dissolving from his face. “Do what.” It was a statement, and definitely not a question.

Steve scoffed, “You know damn well what I mean, Buck. She didn’t do anything to provoke that.”

Bucky swallowed hard, avoiding his friends gaze. “She’s a fucking brat, Steve.”

Steve shook his head in disbelief, “Do you hear yourself? Would you wanna work with you?” He asked.

Bucky pushed himself from the table, “Look it’s not my fault she almost got herself killed the first time she was put in the field. So she’s got a complex about it, big whoop.”

Bucky didn’t stay to hear Steve’s lecture. Truth be told, he couldn’t stomach it.

He knows how he treats you is disgusting. The bravado he has to put on around the team makes him sick to his stomach, but it’s necessary.

When he saw your life was in danger that day, he fucking panicked. Why did he panic?

He doesn’t know. But the thought of you getting hurt...or worse, made his skin crawl. Bucky wasn’t use to feeling so attached to someone so quickly, and he hated it.

Your safety was always in the front of his mind. Wondering if you were being followed or watched or tortured or—

Stop it, Buck. Stop it. She isn’t yours to worry about. He scolded himself.

Pushing you away was the easiest part. Making you hate him was second nature, but hurting you? Making you think he hated you?

It fucking sucked.

He walked back to his room. Every intention of showering and sulking until he fell asleep, when he heard your voice through the walls.

He stood a few feet from your door, hearing everything. Stupid super soldier perks.

You were crying.

You were crying because of him.

“Fuck.” Bucky seethed through his teeth.

He doesn’t know how or when it happened, but soon he was knocking on your door.

A moment later, it swung open. You stood there, eyes red and puffy. Cheeks wet with tears, and lips swollen.

Probably from biting them like she does when she’s trying not to cry. He thought to himself.

“Come to abuse me some more?” You ask with a pain in your voice he’s never heard before.

It snatched the wind from his lungs. How long had he been making you feel this way?

“Ella, I’m—“

“Save it. I don’t want your fake apologies. Get this straight, I’m not weak.” You growl.

Bucky wonders if your trying to convince him, or yourself.

“I’ll do this mission with you. I’m not going to let you turn this team against me, but after this? We’re done. I don’t wanna hear from you ever again. I’m going to request a transfer to work at the Tower instead.”

The Tower. Manhattan. 3 hours away.

Not with me. Bucky thought.

He couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. He didn’t want you to go, not like this. Not because of him.

“Nothing to say?” You quipped. “Thought so. Goodbye, James.” You said, and slammed the door in his face.

Bucky stepped forward, leaning his forehead against the door.

How did this get so out of hand? How did it get to the point where you’d be so desperate to be rid of his ridicule that you’d leave your home?

Bucky wasn’t sure, but he was going to fix it.

Whatever it takes.

“Make sure to keep the rebreathers on at all times.” Bruce said, closing the hologram of the building.

You nod, “So what exactly is it that makes it so toxic?”

Bruce laughed, “Toxic is a strong word—potent...that’s more fitting.”

You peering at the case file; Votum Floreant.

“Got it, anything else we should know?” You ask, eager to get the mission over with.

Bruce shook his head at you and Bucky. “Don’t thinks so. Just seal it in the case the moment you get it, and keep those rebreathers on while you’re in the jet with it. I’ll take care of it when you guys get back. It doesn’t affect me the way it would you two.”

Bucky looked confused, “If that’s the case, why the hell are we going?”

He chucked, “Its a stealth op. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but being subtle isn’t exactly my forte.”

You smiled, nudging him.

“I’ll keep coms open.” You say, exiting and heading to the flight deck on the roof.

Bucky hadn’t said two words to you since the briefing.

Good. You think.

But also, out of character.

Maybe he’d finally taken the hint that you were done being treated the way he treats you. Maybe he’d been relieved to hear you were requesting your transfer.

Maybe he really did hate you.

The thought tore at your heart in more ways than one. Before the whole mess of your first mission happened, you thought the both of you were on the same page.

The flirty looks during briefings, the waiting until it was just the two of you to have dinner or walk the grounds. The movie nights where he’d pick ones he knew only the two of you would like.

It must have just been one sided. No one feels the way you feel—felt, about him and just turns it off.

As the jet whirred into flight, you took a seat next to Bucky at the controls.

“Are you going to say anything? Or are we going to mime this whole mission.” You ask without looking at him.

He doesn’t say anything, or even look at you for that matter.

You scoff subtly, “I don’t know why I bother. I guess I’m just a glutton for punishment.”

Kicking up one leg, you keep it crooked up-right next to you, using it as a block between you and Bucky.

You’d finally landed after a painfully quiet 2 hour flight. You were securing your clips to your holster when you felt him behind you.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Bucky said suddenly.

It was almost impossible to look at him without sarcasm. “Really? What exactly did you think was going to happen? A person can only take so much, James.”

You move to walk away, but he grips you shoulder gently, turning you to face him.

“I...I didn’t like seeing you like that.” He practically whispered.

You paused before hitting the button to let the ramp down. You wanted to say something snide, but you didn’t dare give him your energy.

“Let’s go. I wanna get this over with.” You mumble, finally hitting the button.

“Payload secured. Extracting now.” Bucky spoke into the coms.

With your gloves on, and rebreather secured to your face, you open the case Bruce had given you.

“Here, put it in.” You instructed.

This...plant? No. Flower, definitely a flower, was gorgeous. Bright red and purple ombré petals with a speckled green and yellow stem. The green leaves reaching off the stem faded to a black tip. It was stunning.

Bucky reached for the pot, that’s when you noticed the plant changing.

“Whoa, whoa. Did you see that?” You ask him.

The stem looked like it was pulsing. Golden buds began blooming within the petals.

“I don’t like this. I’m calling Bruce.” You said.

You tap your ear piece. “Dr. Banner, we’ve got some strange activity. The plant is...growing? It’s morphing and producing—“

“Get it in that case now!” He shouts, “It’s sensitive you temperature. The closer you get, the more it detects your body heat. If you’re not careful, it’ll pollinate.”

“Els...” Bucky called.

The flower was almost glowing. It’s was hypnotic, drawing you to it...the both of you.

“It’s...it’s beautiful.” You say mindlessly.

“Sergeant Barnes? Do you copy?” You hear Bruce say through the coms.

He doesn’t respond and neither do you.

“It smells like you. Like...summer rain, and strawberry shortcake.” Bucky says, walking closer to the flower.

The buds are growing. They look as though they’re about to burst.

He shakes his head, breaking the trance. “Shit.” Bucky grumbles putting the pot in the case, and slamming it shut.

You’re both breathing heavily. When did you get this close to each other? You’re close enough to see the beads of sweat on Bucky’s hairline.

“S-Sorry.” You whisper, looking down.

He tilts you chin up to look at him, “Don’t be.” He whispers in reply.

The realization of your closeness to him set in again, cause you to jump back suddenly.

“I’m gonna go...watch the controls.” You mumble.

When you sit in the seat, you finally feel it. Your elevated heart rate, the slick in your skin, and the undeniable ache between your thighs.

“What the hell?” You mutter to yourself.

“I’m glad you made it home in one piece.” Dr. Banner says as you approach the door to the compound.

Behind you, Bucky wheeled the cart with the case on top of it.

“It was definitely something. What does that thing do exactly? The packet on it was pretty vague.” You ask.

Bruce hesitated, “It’s just...it’s a...it’s hard to explain.”

You quickly whip off your rebreather, enjoying the fresh air. “Try me.”

“Look out!” Bucky shouts from behind you.

In a flash you see Bruce’s face go into pure panic. No one was quick enough. The case tumbles to the ground, smashing open and exposing the plant.

Both you and Bucky rush for it. In an instants the plant glows again, pulsing quicker then before.

“Ella, no!” Bruce shouts.

You hadn’t noticed, but Bucky’s mask was off too. Neither of you looked at anything but the flower. “It’s beautiful.” You said mindlessly.

Suddenly there was a burst from the middle of it. Golden flecks of pollen floated through the air like glitter.

“Whoa.” Bucky said breathlessly.

Looking to him, he was bathed in an ethereal haze. A visible aura and smell drawing you to him, you couldn’t have looked away if you tried.

And you didn’t care.

Bucky’s eyes suddenly locked with yours, and you knew he felt it too.

You moved towards each other, before you felt yourself getting yanked back.

“Tony, get him into quarantine now!” Bruce shouted as he tugged you with him.

“No! Stop it! Bucky!” You shouted. A conscious part of your mind was being dulled; why did you need to be near Bucky so badly?

“Stark, I’m warning you! Ella! Ella!” Bucky shouted as he was picked up by Tony, wearing his Iron Man suit for safety.

You were pulled in separate directions, and brought into the compound.

2 hours. 37 minutes. 46 seconds.

That’s how long it’d been since you’d seen Bucky.

You were currently on you bed, aching with a cold sweat. Your body was screaming at you, telling you to get out and go find him.

“What’s happening to me...” you groan into the space above you.

Between your thighs was throbbing, the heat emerging from your core was unrelenting. Your nipples were so hard, they felt like they could cut glass, and a glisten of lust on your skin couldn’t be ignored anymore.

Your own fingers did nothing to alleviate the ache. Attempting to pleasure yourself was in vain, because it wasn’t just any touch you needed. You felt like you would die—surely, you would die without his touch.

You needed Bucky, and you needed him now.

Stood from your bed, and practically running to the door, you relish in the friction it caused between your legs.

Pulling and twisting the knob in every direction does nothing. Of course it doesn’t...of course they’d locked you in here.

“FRIDAY?” You practically begged.

“Yes, Miss Monroe?” The AI replied instantly.

You cleared your throat, and pressed your sweat stained forehead agains the cool wood. “Please open my door.”

“I’ve been instructed not to let you out unless it was an emergency.”

“It is,” You say quickly. “it’s an emergency.”

She didn’t respond, the door simply clicked open. You yanked it back and revealed a sweat soaked Bucky on the other side; with bloodshot eyes, and his pupils blown out.

You’re sure your breathing mirrored his. Heavy and lengthy breathes passed your lips, chests heaving in time with one another.

Neither of you spoke as he took daunting steps forward, pushing you back into your bedroom.

In a flash, the door is slammed shut, and his hands find your hips. “Need you. Have to have you.” He groaned into the crook of your neck. “Had to smell you, touch you.”

Bucky hoists you up against the wall, and you’re seated perfectly on his thigh. “Please tell you want this—need this as badly as I do.”

The friction of his sweatpants clad thigh against your core makes you moan. “Yes, yes. Bucky...James, please.”

His lips are on yours before you can think.

Tongues take purchase of one another—it’s sloppy and rushed, and you don’t care.

You grind your heat onto his thigh, surely leaving wet patches—you’re dripping after all.

“That’s is sugar, get yourself off.” He practically growled.

“Bucky.” You moan. “More. Give me more.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Your back hits you’re bed with a muted thud, and he in you again, stripping you of your bottoms. You help him, and tear your shirt from your body.

Bucky grips your ankle, and makes eye contact as he starts peppering kissed up your leg. Soft, wet kissed that felt like fire against your skin.

He suddenly hooks your legs with his arms and waits, looking at you for permission. “Can I taste you?”

You nod, swallowing thickly. Soon, Bucky’s tongue is lapping at your clit, sucking and soothing the swollen bud, eating you like it was the man’s last meal.

“James, oh my...don’t stop.” You moan, raking your fingers through his hair.

Bucky hold your hips down, and your orgasm hits you like a truck. Cumming all over his face, but he doesn’t stop, he works you through it until your shaking.

“You taste like heaven, but now I need to be inside you.” He kissed you again, and you taste your juices on his stubble.

With new confidence, you push him back on the bed, and climb on top, lining him up with your entrance. In a smooth stroke, his entire length is in you. You gasp at the stretch, not expecting it.

“Look at you, sugar. Taking my cock so well, that’s it baby,” he croons as you start to ride him. “Take every inch, all for you, doll.”

You grind onto his cock, finding the perfect angle to meet your most sensitive spot.

“Oh, James.” You moan, throwing your head back.

“So tight, perfect. Mine, all mine.” He grunts, sitting up to kiss your chest. He swirls his tongue around each nipple, driving you mad.

You feel that rubber band stretching in your core, and Bucky feels it too.

He picks up his pace, thrusting up into you harder and faster until your seeing stars. Bucky repeats your name like a prayer on his lips until he stills, spilling his warmth inside of you, biting down on your chest as he came.

With the last scrap of energy you had, you roll off of him. Neither of you speak for a few minutes, you simply let your breathing return to normal.

“So that’s what that plant does.” Bucky says jokingly.

You throw your hands over your eyes, “I can’t believe we just did that.”

The mattress dips as you feel Bucky turn to face you. “Don’t get all shy on me now, Els.”

You move your hands, but refuse to look at him. Vulnerable is the last thing you want to be in front of Bucky Barnes.

Bucky’s hand finds your cheek, “Hey, I’m serious, talk to me.”

The sigh that you release is one of nerve and exhaustion. “What’s there to talk about? How I was just fucked into oblivion by a guy that hates my guts? That the only reason we’re in this bed together is because of some toxic plant that messed with our brains? There you go, there’s your talk.”

“I don’t hate you.” He says on the heels of your speech.

You laugh, full on chuckle. “Okay, Barnes. I get it, hates a strong word and all that, but you definitely don’t like me.”

Bucky swung his legs over the side of the bed, “You’re right, I don’t like you. I’m pretty sure I fucking love you.”

He says it as causally and easily as anything. In fact, it comes out with such ease, you’re almost inclined to believe him.

“Right, that’s why you ignore me while we’re at the compound, or make pick on me for fun, and follow me around like a rookie in every mission we’re forced to do together.”

He stands and pulls up his shorts. “I follow you because the thought of you getting killed makes me sick to my fucking stomach. I call out mistakes because I want you to be aware of everything so that I don’t have to kill people for hurting you.”

You prop yourself up on the bed, and shield your exposed body with a sheet. Buckys hands wash over his face before landing on his hips.

“I avoid you while we’re here because if I didn’t, I’d want to spend ever second of every day with you. You’re all I fucking think about, and frankly, it’s driving me crazy.”

You smirk at his humor, he always could make you laugh.

“So what do we do now?” You ask, sitting up on your knees, and allowing the sheet to fall.

Bucky’s eyes roam your figure, and he swallows hard. “I’d like to erase all the hateful things I’ve ever said to you, but I can’t. I can only ask to get a new start, sugar. A chance—give me one chance.”

His hand find your hips, and you feel the goosebumps prickle your skin. “After all, I am the guy that just fucked you into oblivion, right?

You smirk, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on his lips. His hand cups your cheek as you pull away.

“Can we watch those old movies like we used to? Just you and me?” You mumble, looking down.

Bucky laughs, and pulls you into his warm chest, kissing the crown of your head. “You got it, honey. Just you and me.”

taglist:  @iheartsebastianstan @jjlizz @stuckysbabe @sk493494 @lefoutoir @nickangel13 @marvelismysafezone @lilulo-12 @warmvanillafeels @star-spangled-beard-burn @ravenesque @pinknerdpanda @wintersoldierissucharide @snapcapquartet @ellen-reincarnated1967 @unlistedpond @my-drowning-in-time @supernaturalwintersoldier @kimvmarvel @roseboho @winterboobear11 @choicesloversstuff @disaffectedbarnes @igothroughphasesalot @supernaturalwintersoldier​ @miss-assembled (strikethrough means the tag didn’t work! I’m sorry!)

[catharrington]

Intercrurral prompt: Billy’s been harassing Steve all year, and it’s taking everything Steve has not to think bisexual thoughts about the guy he HATES. But one night, wrong place and wrong time, where they run into each other in the woods while Steve is on demodog patrol and Billy is escaping a bad run-in with Neil. Things boil over - the biggest imagery I have is Billy harshly whispering in Steve’s ear “Tell me you want this. TELL me you want ME.”

I know there has been a couple~~ intercrurral prompts~~ but hey man if it fits nicely why not buy it in every color?? Thank you for sending it in!!! Werewolf Billy and human Steve rough sex and bad attempts at dirty talk🖤

***

Billy was dripping; dripping with sweat, dripping with rage, dripping with blood. He was trickling it all down his fingertips and the button bridge of his nose to drop in fat drips to the grass underfoot. Stumbling through the forest aimlessly, searching for nothing but a hiding spot to lick his wounds. To tuck his tail between his legs and whimper like the dog he is.

Like the dog his father makes him feel.

The full moon is out this night and it makes Billy want to howl, instead he grinds his teeth and pushes forward.

The forests of Hawkins are quiet, always so fucking quiet, so much different from the way California sang with noise all hours of the night. Clubs blasting music, people screaming outside on the sidewalk, police sirens starting up and flicking off just as fast. Billy missed the noise. The hiding place it created. Now he had only an empty forest.

Until it wasn’t empty. Billy’s head swung around with the sound of bones cracking. He knew that noise, as much as he shouldn’t admit it. But he knew it.

Like a hound to fox blood, he follows his nose to the noise. Sniffs through the rotten underbrush of fallen Indiana leaves to find it. He stumbles out into a small clearing, if he can even call it that. Just a shallow hill covered with leaves and dirt and maybe ten feet between the trees on the other side.

Right in the middle, lit with the bluish glow of the moon, and framed with the movement of a baseball bat swinging in one of his hands, Steve Harrington stands.

He spins the bat again. A strand of something comes off of it in an arch, a wave similar to blood, but dripping clear and slimy like mucus. Billy has his mouth open watching it, Steve had his mouth open as well. They both watched, they both waited.

Billy turned his lip up in a growl. “Harrington,” he rasped. Not sure what he was saying, why he was, just wanted to get his claws sharpened on bones. Someone’s bones. His father’s bones. Steve’s bones.

All year long Billy has been barking up Steve’s tree. In the school hallways, shirtless at basketball practice, in the parking lot of the Palace Arcade. Billy was there, flashing his teeth with something to prove. Steve always blew him off, shoved as if he was bored. A child pushing a toy away he had become disinterested in.

But Billy could feel. He could taste the blood in the air of the full moon. Steve wasn’t disinterested. He was ripping, and cracking, and running around the woods in the middle of the night just like Billy was.

Billy knew he was different Steve Harrington wasn’t like the others, he held a secret, and the strength to maintain that secret. He wasn’t as disinterested as he let on. Billy’s wolf bristled.

“Hargrove,” Steve said back. Swallowed around his last name. Slipping his bat to hang slightly behind his body as if to hide it.

“What are you doing out here so late, Pretty boy? Ain’t exactly a safe meadow for a Bambi like you to be prancing through-,”

“God, why can’t you ever talk normal, not like a jerk all the time?” Steve takes his bat and hauls it over his shoulder, swings it hard and mean into the tree in front of him. There’s nails sticking out of all sides. Lets the force of the hit hold onto the bark, lets it so that Steve can release the handle and the bat remains stuck there.

Billy’s watching, impressed, as more mucus drips down over the nails.

“What are you doing here, Hargrove?” Steve asks point blank. He’s got a scrape on his chin.

Billy’s got a gash on his eyebrow that’s curling blood over his cheek and down his face, dropping off his chin drip by drip. He shrugs, glances around like he can’t be bothered.

“These woods aren’t safe,” Steve says, “you shouldn’t be walking alone,” and for the first time Billy noticed how his chest is heaving with the effort. How his hands are shaky. How there’s a red blush creeping over his high cheek bones that isn’t simply from the stuffy Indiana forest.

“I was running away from home before I got so rudely interrupted,” Billy says with an air of blasé, taking a step forward into the clearing, out from the darkness of the trees, pointing towards his eyebrow.

Steve’s wide brown eyes get even wider, he takes a step forward towards Billy. Reaching up with one hand to hover over the cut.

Fingertips press softly to flayed skin, as if asking permission, as if their touch alone could heal the pain. “Holy shit,” Steve whispers. Like he’s never seen a cut before. And Billy has to struggle to keep his eyes open.

“These woods ain’t safe, huh?” Billy says as he lifts one hand and curls it over Steve’s wrist. The bones feel thin in his fat fingers. He squeezes just to feel them shift.

“Ain’t safe from what, Harrington?” He asks in a mean voice.

Steve stays quiet, so he shoves the other boy hard. Walks him with another shove and then another until Steve presses up against a tree. His body rolling against the bark, his head laying to rest against it. Tilting his chin up, making his wild hair bounce, reveling his neck naked and bare under Billy’s jaws.

Their heavy breathing is in sync. Billy’s thinking about basket ball; about the way he shoves and pushes Steve around just to touch him. About the way it’s been months of bruises caused by pulling pigtails and Steve’s never said ‘stop’. Never in so many words.

If he would only say ‘stop’, Billy would. He isn’t a monster. He’s just a wolf, a flea bitten dog, sniffing and howling and watering at the mouth for the chase. For the chase.

Steve’s breathing heavy enough to make the veins in his slender neck protrude. His Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Billy watches the motion. Licks his lips.

“Ain’t safe, from what?” He asks again.

Steve breaths out and it’s a cloud of smoke into the night. “Billy,” he answers, “you talk too much.”

The full moon crescendos in Billy’s eyes, blocking their color out to only white, as he rushes forward to bite his teeth into Steve’s exposed neck.

He doesn’t bite to break skin, just sinks his teeth enough he knows he’s painting the pale skin purple. Marking watercolors that spiral and bleed into dark rain clouds of tones. All caused by Billy, all marking Steve as his.

“Billy,” Steve whimpers out. The motion makes his neck flex in Billy’s mouth. His hands lift up to cradle against the wild curls on the back of Billy’s head. Hold there softly, gently, like they’re kissing.

“Billy,” he chants.

“Billy,” he begs.

Flesh leaves his mouth in a hard squelching pop, already turning all the colors he wished it would. Billy wraps his arms around Steve’s waist, pulls him flush to his body and nuzzles his nose into the space of his neck and shoulder. He scents him, rubbing into Steve as much as he can. The blood on his brow and face only a passing thought as he rubs across Steve’s skin. Rubs until he changes the scent to something closer to his own.

“Gonna mark this pretty skin,” Billy hears himself growling from a distance, not his own body right there. But somewhere behind his wolf. “Gonna lay claim, mine,” he laps up Steve’s neck. His collar bones. Can taste his sweat and Billy’s own blood on his pale skin. Can taste something stranger than anything he’s tasted before and he licks at that hard, gets Steve clean of it.

“Mine.”

Gets Steve whimpering for him, weak in his knees and shivering limp against the tree. Billy’s arms the only thing holding him up.

Then they aren’t, Billy pulls Steve away from the tree just to turn him in the cage of his arms and push Steve down to kneel in the dirt. The grass leaving marks on his tight jeans. Leaves getting pushed away in a wild scramble for purchase on the filthy ground. Steve finds the base of the tree and braces against it, digging his human fingers into the roughness feveriously.

Whimpering the whole time.

“Billy,” he groans out, arching his back and letting his head drop between his shoulders.

Billy slides his fat fingers down the ladder of Steve’s ribs. Feels them protrude and flex under his shirt with every hard breath. Billy wants to let his claws rip from his skin and drag the flesh from bone, carve his name into Steve’s ribs.

He hikes up Steve’s ugly polo shirt and kisses along the bumps of his spine one by one. Messy, open, wet, all the way down to the leather of his belt.

“Wha- what, ahh, happened to your face?” Steve works the words out hard as Billy licks around the small of his back.

“Why ya wanna know?” Billy talks so his chin hits Steve’s skin.

Steve struggles to turn over his shoulder, meets Billy’s eyes. The wolf in them taking all the blue and leaving only a ghostly white. Steve’s breath hitches. He smells afraid, but he doesn’t let it show much. “Tell me,” he orders.

And he’s not the one to be making demands, bent over in front of a wolf on a full moon, his scent sticky with the honeyed sweetness of lust Billy won’t be able to get off his fur long into next month. But he does, he keeps his eyes on Billy. Inside his head Billy’s mind screams useless words like ‘mate’ and ‘love’, he shoved them down. Growls long and low.

“My father,” Billy mutters angerly into the wet skin of Steve’s hips. Says against his better judgement.

Steve whimpers again, breaks their eye contact to pathetically face the ground. As if he has something to be ashamed of, something to apologize for. The words ‘I’m sorry’ rumble in the night, but before he has a chance to say them Billy’s interrupting him.

“You tell me something, now,” Billy growls. Each word hard with his wolf growing stronger each second. “Tell me this is something you want, tell me you want this,” he demands.

“Billy,” Steve begs, his hips tremble. He rocks his hips, arching his back and pushing his shapely ass back into Billy’s hardening cock. Tries to show without saying, but that’s all they’ve been doing. Showing and not telling.

Billy needs to know. He needs the words.

“Tell me you want me?” Billy begs, flexing his hands into the plump flesh of Steve’s hips. Wishing he would flex his claws.

“I want you,” Steve admits in a curling groan. His voice wavering music box pretty. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Billy. I feel like I’ve gone crazy with it.” His voice sharp besides the lust apparent on it.

“Take responsibility,” Steve demands.

Inside his mind Billy lets his head tilt back and howl, his throat ripping with the sound. In the forest he buries all that into another kiss on Steve’s back. Sucking the skin into his mouth and biting down to leave a mark. Just as he promised.

Billy wraps his hands round to work on the buckle of Steve’s jeans. The metal jingles as it moves, rings out lovely alongside Steve’s moans. Running the zipper down it’s track, and pushing the denim and cotton briefs to slip down to where Steve’s knees are bent in the grass, Billy moans out himself as he finally gets his fingers on those milky thighs.

He trails his hands up, up, those long legs flushed rose blush. Feeling their hair soft under his rough hands. Billy pushes them so Steve’s thighs are together.

“Not tonight,” Billy mutters to himself as he works his cock out his own jeans, “not yet, only this for the night,” he’s warning. Spitting and licking his hand until it’s glistening then wrapping his hand around his shaft. Pumping his cock until it gets cherry red at the tip, biting his lip to keep from calling out.

Any questions swimming in those big brown eyes watching over his shoulder nervously was stopped short as Billy pushed his dripping wet cock between Steve’s thighs. Those strong fingers were back on his hips, almost ripping the skin as they shuffled about for a grasp. His fingers seem to shift and grow as they found purchase, fingernails elongating to leave half crescent moons on Steve’s skin. Leaving marks where ever his wolf could reach.

Billy started moving, letting his body roll with one long and low groan, before dipping his head forward to lean on Steve’s sweaty back.

He thrusted steady, slow, mean at first. Pulling back out so only his mushroom head was nestled between Steve’s thighs. Then pushing back in with a stab. Velvet skin rubbing raw from only spit as lube, but the friction was too good. The heat and the pressure of Steve’s thighs strong from running up and down the court. The same thighs Billy stood between while Steve was splayed out on his back, panting as heavy as he is now, and looking up at him with those doe eyes.

Innocent then, now, Steve’s catching his breath. Moaning just as feral as Billy’s own. Bracing his body as Billy’s thrusts jerk into it with a shoulder against the tree trunk. One hand a fist around his own long cock fully hard and curling over his stomach, dripping wet with pre cum. The other hand going down, down, between his legs to press his sweaty palm to his thighs. Cupping the head of Billy’s dick each time it pushed through again. Petting it. Possessing it. Making Billy preen under the attention.

“Faster,” Steve gasped out. Sounded like he surprised even himself. “Faster, Billy. Fuck me?”

And his voice turned up at the end like a question, his voice getting high pitched, as he buries his head against the rough tree in desperation.

“Steve,” Billy nuzzles his nose into the back of Steve’s neck, stretched taught and begging for it. He licks across the skin as he speaks. “It’s not safe out here- ah,” he breaks off with a hard thrust. His rythum starting to go. His release getting close.

Steve’s hand is quick over his own cock. It makes him thrust, and pant, and work to fuck himself into the tightness. His other hand, the one caressing the tip of Billy’s slick dick, is starting to pool with precum. The white dripping between Steve’s fingers. Smearing across the press of his thighs and making the scene messy, so messy, it felt so good.

“Not safe for you to be alone, can’t- ah, ah,... can’t have anything happen to-,” Billy’s words broke off with another moan, own that split at the seams into a growl. He wanted to talk. To lay down orders and demands, wanted to mark Steve and brag about Steve.

He burrows his head into that mess of brown hair and wildly shouts. Feels himself cum a writhing mess between Steve’s thighs. Ribbons shooting out across those gentle fingers. Whimpering like an injured dog into his soft hair.

Steve preens, his back arching under the heavy weight of Billy above him. He cums into his fist, pumping every drop out. His thighs shiver with the motions, squeezeing Billy’s soft cock even tighter between them. His hand wet with Billy’s cum braces against the tree. Holding them up as they laze.

The moment ages on, the moon curving across the sky. Light trickling between branches of the trees and across Steve’s pale skin.

Billy’s breath catches as he is shaken from his musing, shaken from watching how lovely Steve’s skin looks, by the boy brushing against him. A small tap of knuckles across his cheek.

Billy looks up, his eyes foggy and half open, sees Steve looking back. They pull apart just enough for Steve to wiggle his jeans back up. Cum trapped in the tight denim, fingerprints of white staining the fabric forever. That left a special possessive feeling in Billy’s chest. Made him smile as he watches Steve collect himself.

His eyes must still be white, Billy muses, it’s the wolf in him trying to pierce through while he’s weak under the moon. He’s used to it, able to hold off the transformation for now, but the appearance must make Steve uncomfortable.

Billy groans, rocks back on his ass to get comfortable as he can on the dirt of the forest floor, and turns to Steve to explain.

But Steve is watching him wide eyed. Those huge brown eyes perfectly round and sparkling as they examine not his face or his spent cock, but the top of Billy’s head.

Billy’s hands move slowly upwards, past his unruly curls to feel. He’s got a dread in his mind at what he mind find. It’s not less embarrassing when his fingers finally meet and curl around one of his fluffy ears.

Mid transformation, the eyes are not unnormal. The sex craze, the drool, these are not unnormal. Dishwater blond hair sprouting down his arms, over the back of his hands, and across his forehead is not unnormal. Billy winces as he remembers that his ears shifting first, is very not unnormal.

He growls low in his throat, an animalistic sound of annoyance. His teeth now pointed at the canines poke his lips.

Billy wants to turn with his tail between his legs. He blinks, afraid at what he might find, before looking back at Steve.

“Wow. Holy shit,” Steve laughs, and it comes out a little giggle.

Billy knots his thick brows together in confusion, watching dumbly as Steve’s face parts into an adorable smile. “What’s so funny, Harrington?” he mumbles around his large teeth.

“Holy shit,” Steve repeats. “You-,” he cuts himself off with another laugh. Lifting his hands as if his words won’t do him justice and he just has to touch.

Billy flinches away, unused to anyone reaching for him being a good thing. He turns his head and shoulders as if he could burst into a run. But he’s caught by Steve’s hands. Those thin, pretty, gentle fingers, tugging at the top of his ears. They pet his fur back, stroking across the backs of them and then swirling his thumb into the thick patch of hair that covers where they’ve grown from his head. The very sensitive patch of hair, Billy has to fight back a whimper.

Steve’s petting him, a smile on his face. His hand are so warm. Billy feels embarrassed, mortified, as he leans into the touch.

“You’re like the wolfman?” Steve asks, his voice low and jingling with humor.

Billy scoffs at him, “nah, I’m a werewolf!” he snaps.

“So that’s a yes, huh?” Steve flicks his eyes up and down from Billy’s ears twitching with annoyance to his face blushing cherry red.

“Fuck off, Harrington!” Billy growls, bares his teeth to shine bloodthirsty in the moonlight. “I could rip your throat out right now!”

Steve just laughs, runs his hands down through Billy’s wild curls made longer with the transformation and down to his shoulders. He braces himself as he climbs up Billy’s crossed legs. One of his knees on either side, planting his ass square on Billy’s lap.

It makes him shutter, makes him feel like running again, the feeling of Steve’s body curling up with his own. There’s a feral need in him that proves stronger. Billy braces Steve by the waist, wrapping his arms around him to steady him. To hold him close.

Steve leans down to kiss across the exposed sharpness of Billy’s teeth. All his long white fangs lined up ready to bite. Steve kisses them as if he was kissing gently into Billy’s lips.

“You don’t- you aren’t,” he stops growling, relaxing instantly. Billy sounds winded as he speaks. He feels exhausted, worn out from running. “You aren’t afraid?”

Steve brushes one finger across the fur growing on Billy’s cheeks, up around the socket of his eye and across his forehead, then sinks his fingers back into the fur of his ears. His fluffy, perky, wolf ears that just melt under the attention.

“You haven’t scared me off yet, Billy Hargrove. What makes you think you can now?”

[bopbopstyles]

Temptation (pt. 1)

RATING: M/smut

WORD COUNT: 9.4k

CATEGORIES: fratboy!harry

“Can I ask you something?”

She turned back and looked at him. “Sure.”

“Why haven’t I seen you before?”

She shrugged at his question. “Dunno. I’ve never been to parties here before. We’ve got different majors. It’s a big school.”

“Not that big.”

“Big enough.”

“Too big if I missed out on meeting you until now.”

Her breath caught. The words fell from his mouth with such ease, such nonchalance, as if his words didn’t shake the ground she stood on.

or

Harry’s a fratboy and Nora (might) be in love with him. (part 1)

PART TWO | PART THREE

After a semester abroad, the last thing Nora felt like doing was going to an American frat party.

She had spent the semester in Germany going to clubs and house parties, weird bars and day drinking at festivals. All she wanted was a pint of good beer, a cute boy to flirt with in her horrifically bad German, and go home and curl up in her double bed. Now she was back home going to a beginning of semester frat party where there would be shit beer, she wouldn’t be “the cute American girl,” and she was back to the Twin-XL life. It was the weekend before school started, so she knew it would be crazy—no one had work to do, no one was stressed, and everyone was desperate to be back at school and away from their families.

But Maddy wanted her to go, and so she was going.

“You’re going to drink these boys under the table!” Maddy called to her from their bathroom where she was curling her hair. “We’re going to play rage cage, I’ve already decided.”

“I hate rage cage,” Nora lied. She loved it and she knew it. “Abroad changed me!”

A bootie came flying in her direction, and Nora caught it before tossing it back to Maddy. “You’re a shit liar.”

She took another sip of the drink she had mixed, some decent vodka and Fresca, her secret weapon of a mixer. “Who are you going after tonight again?”

Since Nora had left Maddy had decided she was in love with the boys of Delta Sigma. They were mostly the international boys who didn’t seem like they’d be the frat type and were so hot you couldn’t tear your eyes away from them. Also, apparently their parties were insane. “His name’s Liam,” she said, “and he was quite possibly the most gorgeous boy on earth.”

“What’s his instagram again?”

She read out a handle from memory, and Nora typed the handle into her phone as she took another sip. She scrolled through the photos, most of which appeared to be from frat parties, with the occasional more artsy photo of him and friends. They appeared to be on actual film, which was interesting for frat boy. “Is he a photographer?”

“No, why?”

“These photos looked like they’re on actual film," she replied. Nora clicked on one and it’s a photo of him, but she noticed he had tagged someone. Someone with the handle @harry_styles. She clicked on the name and was immediately entranced. Based on his bio, he was their year at school, but she had never heard of the kid before. He also appeared to be British. She scrolled through his photos, all taken on film, and gorgeous. Some were of landscapes, but most were portraits of people doing simple and mundane things. He was incredibly talented. “Some kid named Harry takes them,” Nora told her.

“Oh, I think he was friends with Liam. I’ve seen them before.” Maddy strutted out of the bathroom and striked a pose, perfectly curled hair bouncing behind her head as she shook it. “Like?”

“Love.” Maddy was wearing a snakeskin bodysuit, ripped black jeans, and heeled booties, and she looked incredible as usual. “Now what the fuck am I going to wear?”

“Good lord, you will be the death of me someday, Nora Tate.”

The party was in full swing when they arrive. They weaved their way through the crowds on the front lawn, Maddy jabbering in her ear about how hot this Liam kid is. Nora simply nodded along, thankful for the vodka coursing through her veins, because the amount she did not want to be there was pretty high.

The lights were low and the music was loud when they opened the door, the smell of sweat and cheap beer hitting her immediately. Ah yes, this was why she left America.

“Rage cage," she reminded Maddy, and Maddy squeezed her hand before pulling her deep into the crowd. They  weaved their way through the throngs of people to the kitchen, where they poured themselves drinks, and then Maddy dragged her to the basement.

There were four pong tables set up, three of which currently had games going—all simple games of pong, and a bunch of people loitering around the tables waiting for a turn. “We’re going to have to start the game,” Maddy told her quietly.

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“I’m scared!”

Good lord. “Who do I talk to about starting a game of rage cage?” Nora yelled into the loud room.

Everyone stopped talking and looked in one direction.

Harry was leaning against a table in the back where a computer is set up, most likely controlling the music. “Me,” he yelled in reply, standing up. “Let’s play.”

“You’re fucking insane,” Maddy told her, laughing, “and I love you.”

Harry was fucking gorgeous in person. Like, he was gorgeous on social media, but in person he was effortlessly beautiful. Cropped hair with a wave to it, high cheekbones, and the swagger of someone who truly didn’t give a fuck about what people think of him. She suddenly decided that Maddy was not alone in her love of this fraternity.

A bunch of boys, freshman pledges from the looked of it, finished filling cups with beer and setting up the table. Nora grabbed Maddy’s hand and led her over to the table. She set them up right in the middle, the best place to be, and placed their cups in a safe zone of the table. “Remember, controlled bounces," she reminded Maddy, who was notoriously horrible at this game, “and I’ll help you drink if you need it.”

“My savior,” she replied, and Nora snorts in response.

“Want to start?” She looked up and Harry was standing next to her, holding a ping pong ball out to her. His accent was like butter and she honestly wanted nothing more than to hear it constantly on a loop.

“Sure.”

Some pledge had the other ball and positioned himself across the table from her, and everyone scrunched together around the table. Bodies pressed closer and she tried to ignore the feeling of Harry’s arm flush against hers.

“Good at this game?” Harry asked her, leaning his head over so she could hear him.

“Actually, yes,” she replied.

“Let’s see,” he said, and she thought she caught a wink before she bounced the ball and made her first cup.

Maddy was drunk, despite the fact that Nora had been avoiding giving her a cup the whole game. The problem wasn’t Maddy though, it was the other people at the table. Upon discovering Maddy was a) still quite sober and b) horrible at the game, they took it upon themselves to single her out, sending all their cups her way. Meanwhile, Nora was in her happy drunk phase, one that could be sustained by sipping a drink every hour, but became messy if she went too hard.

Next to her, Harry was flushed and laughing, the alcohol and the game having loosened him up. They kept bumping into each other, their fingers brushing when he passed her the pong ball, and it messed up her breathing every time.

There’s only three cups yet, and she was just praying that Maddy didn’t end up with the bitch cup. But as the ball and the cups worked their way around the table, some pledge drinking one and a girl drinking the other, there was only one left. And the ball was coming straight for them.

“Fuck,” Nora said under her breath.

Harry looked down at her, somehow having heard her. “You good?”

“I just don’t want my friend to have the bitch cup.”

Harry glanced over at Maddy. “looked like it would do her in.” “Harry, pay attention mate!” His head whipped back and the tall stack of cups was right in front of him. He took the ball and Nora watched him, knowing he was going to make a perfect shot in, just like he had all night.

Except he didn’t. He missed.

And he missed again.

“C’mon Harry!” Someone yelled, and her eyes focused on the boy standing before Harry, who was desperately trying to make it into the single cup he has in front of him, but the slick beer-covered surface of the table meant the cup was sliding around and he kept missing.

Harry missed another shot.

And the boy before him made his.

“HARRYYY!!!!!” The table screamed, and everyone started chanting his name as he reached for the bitch cup.

He caught Nora’s eye right before he started chugging the beer, some of it spilling down the front of his barely buttoned shirt.

And it hit her—he missed on purpose.

He was trying to make sure Maddy didn’t have to drink it and instead made sure he drank it.

Harry slammed the empty solo cup down on the table and cheers erupted, a grinning Harry the triumphant loser.

“Another game?” Some kid asked, and everyone agrees, but Nora just shook her head.

“We’re good,” she said, taking her and Maddy’s drinks from earlier.

Harry stepped away from the table. “Same,” he said, and no one questioned that.

“I wanna find Liam,” Maddy said to her as they stepped away from the table.

“Okie doke, Tiger,” she told her, and Maddy giggled in response.

She looked up at Harry who was standing right in front of her, blocking their exit. “Thanks for that," she told him, their eyes catching.

“Anytime,” he replied. “I’m Harry, by the way.”

As if she didn’t already know his name. “Nora.”

“I’m Maddy!” Maddy piped up from behind her. “Now we’re on the hunt for more alcohol and some dancing, so could you scooch out of our way?”

Harry chuckled, and Nora just rolled her eyes. “Have fun,” he said, and she tugged Maddy away from the table.

“he was soooo hot,” Maddy said as they climbed the stairs. “Like literally, could-melt-polar-ice-caps hot.”

“You’re so fucking weird.”

“And you love me for it!” She said, throwing her arm around Nora’s shoulders. “Now let’s find us some dancing.”

Maddy hadn’t been able to capture Liam’s attention despite all of her efforts, but she had captured the attention of another DSig boy, who she was now dancing with in the middle of the dance floor. Nora made her promise to tell her if she was going to leave without her, and with that Nora left her to her own devices.

She wandered outside, seeking fresh air, and sat down on the edge of the deck that extended into the backyard. It was quieter out here, the thud of the bass faint and the cold air welcome on her sweaty skin.

“Fancy seeing you here,” a smooth British accent said to her.

She turned and saw Harry sitting a few feet away from her, leaning back on his hands, a beer next to him. His thin white button-down was unbuttoned low, exposing tattoos littering his torso, and thanks to the porch lights and soft glow of the moon she could see the many rings adorning the fingers of hands and the pendant necklace lying on a butterfly tattoo just on his abdomen. She caught sight of a trace of stubble on his chin and perhaps an earring in his ear.

Nora had never been this entranced by another human being. “Tired of your party?”

“Bloody hate these things after a while.” He took a swig of his beer and sighed. “You said it was Nora, right?”

She nodded. “Without an H.”

He cracked a smile. “Harry, with an H.”

“What would it be, sans an H?”

“Arry.”

“That isn’t a name.”

“Most people call me something that,” he said.

“‘Arry?”

“Yeah.”

“Most people call me Nor," she replied.

“But your name is already so short, why do you need a nickname?” She shrugged in response. Just what people did. “You’re taking the thunder of everyone with names that aren’t nickname-able.”

She leaned back on her hands, copying his pose. “Your name is nickname-able.”

“Try.”

Names rolled over in her head. “I’d probably just said ‘H’.”

He was quiet for a beat. “Never heard that one before.”

“Well, I’m happy that I could introduce it to you.”

They were both quiet for a second, and then she heard the scrape of fabric. Harry had scooted closer to her, his position changed so he was facing her, one leg still dangling off of the porch, the other bent in front of him. “What do you study, Nora without an H?”

“History," she replied without a beat. “Mainly German history.”

“Why?” His tone was genuinely inquisitive, as if this was a completely intriguing fact that he simply must know more about.

“I guess…I’ve always liked stories," she told him, finding her words as they come. “And history is really just a bunch of stories that they can learn from and use to make sense of the world around us.”

He considered her answer. “I like that.”

“And you? What do you study, Harry with an H?”

“Comparative literature,” he replied. “Focusing on Italian.”

“Why?”

He grinned. “I’ve always loved languages and reading, and it just seemed like the right fit. You have a better answers than me for this question.”

“You like comp lit?”

“Love it,” he said immediately.

It was rare to find a fratboy who genuinely enjoys what he studies, so Harry was an outlier. “And you speak Italian, I assume?”

“Sì.”

She knew no Italian, but she gathered that that’s a yes. “How long?”

“Most of my life.” He took another sip of his beer, and someone opened the sliding door behind them, music and voices swirling around them. “My grandparents bought a house in Italy before they had my mum and it’s stayed in the family. I’ve spent all my summers and holidays there.”

“You were there for Christmas, then, I assume?” He nodded. “I’m jealous.”

“Best place on earth.”

“Where in Italy?”

“Lucca. It’s not too far from Florence.” He scooted a hair closer to her as he swung his other leg onto the porch, winding his long legs into a comfortable position. “You ever been?”

“To Italy?” He nodded. “Nope. Didn’t make it there while I was abroad.”

“Shame. Where’d you go?”

“Berlin for the fall semester," she replied, and he perked up. “Traveled a bunch, but stuck to central and northern Europe mainly. Copenhagen, Prague, Luxembourg, Amsterdam, Warsaw, and then around Germany. Spent a week in London during Thanksgiving and my mom met me there.”

He ran a hand through his hair absentmindedly, and she watched his bicep flex with the movement. “That sounds incredible. My parents told me being here was my study abroad, so I’m missing out.”

“That’s a shame," she told him. “I needed the break from all this," she waved her hand around them, attempting to capture the absurdity of college and the pressure and the exhaustion in a single motion. “Felt nice to be given the opportunity to slow down a bit.”

“I can imagine.”

Their conversation slowed a bit. The sliding door opened again and a group of girls started talking loudly near them, their discussion circling around some boy they’re all in love with, but they thankfully made their way to the fire pit on the other side of the yard.

“Can I ask you something?”

She turned back and looked at him. “Sure.”

“Why haven’t I seen you before?”

She shrugged at his question. “Dunno. I’ve never been to parties here before. We’ve got different majors. It’s a big school.”

“Not that big.”

“Big enough.”

“Too big if I missed out on meeting you until now.”

Her breath caught. The words fell from his mouth with such ease, such nonchalance, as if his words didn’t shake the ground she stood on.

“Nor!”

She looked up and Maddy was standing in the doorway and she was thankful for the distraction. “You okay?”

“I wanna go homeeee,” Maddy said, her words slightly slurred. “I’m tired.”

“Let’s go home then, babes.” She downed the rest of her beer and then turned to Harry. “See you around, H.”

Before he had the chance to reply, Nora walked inside, the door shutting behind her.

Maddy and Nora spent the rest of the weekend decorating their apartment and analyzing Harry’s sentence to her. Maddy was convinced that he had a crush on her, but Nora begged to differ. Nora thought he was just a poetic guy who had a bit too much to drink. Maddy rolled her eyes at her but let it drop finally and began describing Niall, the adorable Irish boy who she had been dancing with. He was sweet and funny and a good kisser, and didn’t try to get her to come home with him. Just got her number and told her to find Nora so she could go home since she was drunk and tired. (Sometimes, Nora thinks, it’s a bit sad how low the bar was set.) She seemed to have forgotten all about Liam, who she said was just too unattainable that it wasn’t worth trying.

By Monday, Nora was anxious to get into the classroom. After a semester of operating at half intelligence because all her classes were in German, she was excited to be able to actually communicate her full thoughts on a topic. She wanted to write papers and read things that intrigued her.

She'd put a lot of thought into crafting her schedule, leaving time for her shifts at the coffeeshop on campus, while also balancing her schedule between History, German, and Gen Ed requirements. She'd chosen to takes an Urban Studies class for her technology requirements, since it required use of something classed GIS. Maddy was an Urban Studies major, so Nora decided that it was safe to assume she’d help her pass if she needed it.

She chose a safe seat—middle of the room, middle of the row, able to see the screen but not too close that she looked too eager. She unpacked her notebook, already labelled for the class and her pencil bag with her favorite pens. She was ready to be back at school.

She was not ready for Harry Styles to slide into the seat next to her.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said, and she just about jumped out of her skin.

“Fucking hell.” The words fell from her mouth without pause. “You scared me.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not," she said, catching her breath. “What are you doing here?”

“Fulfilling a Gen Ed,” he replied. “This seemed interesting and easy enough. You?”

Embarrassingly, the same reason. “Me too.”

He smiled. “Was nice to see a familiar face when I walked in.”

Before she could reply, the lecture started, and her mind tuned out everything else in the room. Their professor went over the syllabus, which seemed decent, and then started in on the first lecture. Nora was quickly engrossed, scribbling notes about different city planning techniques and histories, making notes of things she wanted to look up more on. The professor had a good lecture style—succinct, engaging, and a bit funny. He had some memes throughout his presentation that got the class laughing, and she tried to ignore how Harry’s soft chuckle made her stomach flip.

In fact, she spent the whole class trying to ignore Harry.

She tried to ignore the way he bit his lip while he wrote notes, the wrinkle in his eyebrows when he was trying to understand something, the way he pulled on his lip when he was reading intently. How his handwriting was messy but clear, how he said “fuck” lightly under his breath when he smudged ink, how his leg bounced up and down when he was trying to focus.

But most of all she tried to ignore the fact that he kept glancing over at her.

Because the thing was, Nora was not in the market to have feelings for someone. She didn’t want to have a crush. She wants to have aimless sex with cute boys and go about her life as she wanted. After the fall, she'd decided that boys were confusing and a waste of time.

Jonas. She'd met him at a house party and it had been a fling—they’d hooked up a couple of times, he’d make her tea and breakfast in the morning, they’d drunk text each other, and he’d act like her boyfriend if they were out together. Sometimes the things he’d say and the way he’d look at her would make her wonder if it was more for him. If he cared. But then, before she knew it the semester was over and it was time to go and their didn’t even have a proper goodbye. It was weird and confusing and when she left she didn’t know what to make of it, because if they’d had more time she probably would’ve dated him. And now, sometimes she'd remember the way he’d back her up against a wall and wonder if she'd find someone who would kiss her the way Jonas did.

So when Nora looked at Harry, she couldn’t help but wonder how he would kiss. And that was when she knew that even though she had only known him for two days, she was developing a crush.

And that was the opposite of how she wanted to start her semester.

When class ended, Harry turned to her and said, “Want to go pick up their course books?”

She didn’t have a class next, so she had no excuse. So she just said yes.

“What did you think?” He asked, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder as they exited the lecture hall.

“The professor was great," she replied. “Really engaging and seems like he was not going to be harsh of a grader since it’s an intro class.”

“Yeah definitely. And I liked how he explained all of the different city plans with such detail but also clarity. He seems to know what he was doing.”

They turned to exit onto the campus green, and she pulled her coat a little tighter around her. It was January and she had forgotten how cold it could get in Massachusetts. “Which section do you think you’re going to do?” The professor had mentioned at the end of class that they would have weekly discussion sections with their TAs to go over material and readings, and had listed out the different time options. She was leaning towards Wednesdays at 11, just after their class was over.

“Probably Wednesday at 11,” he replied. “Fits best into my schedule.”

Fuck. “I was thinking of doing the same one," she told him. This was not good. More time around Harry was not going to be good for her.

“Really?” Nora couldn’t help but take joy in the smile that spread across his face. “Thank god. I hate going into those sections and not knowing where to sit.”

They turned into the building with the campus bookstore, and Nora unwound her scarf from around her neck. “Well, you won’t have to worry about that.”

“Do you have other books you need to pick up?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. I’m going to hold off and go after my other classes so I can figure out what I can get at the library first.”

“Good idea.” He pulled out the syllabus from his backpack and studied the instructions their professor had written down for the books their need. “I think they’re over this way,” he said, leading the way to the back corner.

“Spend a lot of time here?” She asked, shocked he knew where to find the books without even asking for help.

“I worked here during freshman and sophomore year,” he replied. “They never change up the organization of this place.” He scanned the shelves with his finger, mumbling the names of the authors they were looking for under his breath. Nora stood behind him and couldn’t help but smile. “Here,” he said, pulling two copies of one out. “Hold them?”

“‘Course.” She took the books and held them in her arms while he continued his search for the second and third titles they need. He quickly tracked them down, snatching them off the shelf and adding them to the pile in her arms. “That it?”

“Yes.” They weaved their way to the front register and she followed Harry, watching how his long brown coat whips around his ankles when he walked.

After they paid, they walked back out to the campus green and stood on the edge of the sidewalk facing each other. “Do you have another class?” He asked her.

She nodded. “Later. Think I’m going to go home and drop these off first, though.” She lifted the stack of books in her arms and he smiled.

“Bit too heavy for you?”

“Shove off," she said, and a smile sneaked onto her face when he chuckled.

“Well, I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

She took a step back and shouldered her bag. “Bye, H.”

“Bye, Nora.”

She tried to ignore the beauty of the way he said her name. But she failed.

~

Maddy and Nora had been in the library for most of Saturday doing their readings for the next week, and by seven o’clock Nora wanted to bash her head into a wall. She kept re-reading the same sentence about the layout of Vienna’s old city and couldn’t process any of the words.

“Maddy," she whispered, poking her in the arm with the cap of her highlighter. “I want to go.”

“Stop poking me, you ass.” Maddy looked up from her readings. “Let’s get out of here—I feel like I smell like library at this point.”

We packed up their stuff quietly, ignoring the death stares from a girl with a problem set spread out on the table in front of her. “It’s like they don’t realize that people naturally make noise when they move," she said, and Maddy snorted, earning them more glares. “Come on, we should go before we’re killed in here.”

She followed Maddy out of the room they were in and made their way down the hall, the sound of Nora’s sneakers squeaking on the tile floor earning us yet more glares from people. It was literally the first week back at school, Nora thought, how are people already so stressed about work?

Maddy suddenly slowed her walk and matched her pace with Nora’s, leaning in close to her. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that Harry walking towards us?”

Nora looked up and realize that it was Harry. He was wearing an oversized black sweatshirt and a pair of houndstooth pants that he somehow makes looked both comfortable and stylish, along with a pair of glasses. She simply does not understand this boy’s ability to looked so good constantly. “I cannot talk to him right now," she told Maddy. “I looked like complete shit and he looked like…a Greek god.”

“Shut up. You’re going to talk to him because he was basically beelining over here.”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck," she said under her breath.

“Nora.” Harry’s voice was soft because of the library, and she loved the way it sounded. “Maddy, right? I’m Harry.”

Maddy nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

Harry’s gaze turned back to her, and she decided then and there that she loves him in glasses. He was not just a Greek god, he was a studious Greek god. Tortoise shell, peak book nerd. “How are you?”

“Good," she replied. “Was just doing the reading for their class.”

He groaned. “I haven’t even started it. How bad is it?”

She shrugged. “A bit dry, but not horrible.”

“Great,” he said. “I have that to look forward to doing. What are you two up to tonight?”

She looked at Maddy, who shrugged. “Unsure at this point.”

“We’re having another party if you want to come.”

“We’ll be there,” Maddy said before Nora had the chance to reply. She shot Maddy a death stare, which Maddy just ignored.

Harry grinned and it was utterly adorable. “I’ve got to keep working, but I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye H.” The nickname fell from her mouth with ease, and he smiled in response.

“Bye Nora.”

He walked away and she turned to Maddy, who was grinning ear to ear. “What?”

Maddy shook her head and gave her a knowing smile. “You’re fucked.”

She looked back to Harry’s receding figure. Maddy was right. Nora was completely fucked.

They had been at the party for an hour and Nora had yet to see Harry. She didn’t know if he was hiding or something, but no matter which room she went into or how hard she looked, she still couldn’t manage to spot him in the crowd. The party was bigger than last weekend as everyone was now on campus, and Maddy and Nora kept running into people they knew, so now they’ve developed a little crew to hang out with. Their friends Taylor and Lauren arrived shortly after Maddy and Nora did, and they brought with them a girl who was in the same sorority as Lauren and was dating a DSig. As a result, they all end up trashed and dancing without much time passing.

Nora threw her arms around Maddy and screamed the lyrics to a Post Malone song, and Nora felt utterly, blissfully happy. She had forgotten about this side of frat parties while she was gone—how happy she was when she was dancing and there was alcohol coursing through her veins. Some girl must have gotten hold of the music, because the song changed to an old Taylor Swift song and the girls lost it, jumping up and down in the crowd and screaming the lyrics at the top of their lungs.

“I need a drink!” Nora said when the song was over, her throat hoarse and her hair sticking to the back of her neck. The song switches, and the Maddy screamed—it was her favorite song and she had to be on the dance floor for it. Nora could see the torn look in her best friend’s eyes, and she shook her head. “I’m good—I’ll be back in a second.”

She pushed through the crowd, apologizing as she dug her elbows into people to make a path to the kitchen. She grabbed a beer, needing something cold and not too strong, and leaned against the countertop, letting the cooler air wash over her skin.

“Hello.”

The words tingled down her spine, and she turned her head to see Harry standing in the door jamb. The kitchen had mostly cleared out, so it was just the two of them and a set of girls who looked like freshman trying to decide which mixer was less disgusting with their bad vodka. “Hi, H.”

“Having fun?” He was wearing a black t-shirt and it was tight in all the right places and Nora had to force herself to not consider what it would be like to take it off of him.

She nodded. “Couldn’t find you, though.” The words tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them and Nora wanted to shrink into the counter. She sounded desperate and psychotic—she had barely known this boy and now she was complaining about now being able to find him?

But Harry just smiled. “I was upstairs,” he explained. “Was trying to finish a bit of work before I started drinking.”

If he was doing work here, Nora assumed he lived in the house. “You live here?”

“Unfortunately.” He moved towards her, grabbing a beer from the fridge next to her, and Nora caught a flash of light blue on his fingers. Harry painted his nails, she realized.

This fraternity boy painted his goddamned nails light blue.

Who was this boy?

What planet was he from?

And more importantly, where had he been all of her life?

“I like your nails,” she said. “What color is that?”

He glanced down at them. “Dunno. Stole it from my sister over winter break. I can check and text it to you later, though.”

“I’d like that.” Nora took another sip of her beer, the cold drink feeling good in her body. “Where are all your friends?”

Harry shrugged. Nora got the sense that he didn’t really care about all the fraternity stuff and she liked that. Frat boys had always annoyed with their “bro energy” as Maddy called it and she’d met some real assholes during her time in college. Harry seemed like an outlier though. “You want to dance?” He asked her, breaking her out of her trance.

She straightened up. “Sure.” She tried not to think about the fact that she cannot, for the life of her, dance sexily. Maddy had made fun of her for it since freshman year, and despite her efforts Nora had not been able to master the art of looking hot and dancing. She was more of a whip-your-arms-around-and-scream dancer.

When they reached the crowded living room, Harry grabbed her hand and Nora loved his callused hand in her hers, the way he held it tightly so he didn’t lose her in the crowd. He didn’t go too deep into the crowd, wanting to make sure they had space to breathe and it was not too hot. When he stopped moving he tried to create space for them, wanting to make sure they could actually move, not just stand there like idiots and battle for oxygen on the dance floor. Nora took a long swig of her beer, and then she started to sway her hips, deciding to throw caution to the wind.

She liked this boy. She had a massive crush on Harry and his soft words and the way he called her by her full name and smiled at her. She had a crush on the way he was dancing—awkwardly and with a goofy grin on his face, screaming the lyrics to the Top 40s hit along with her. She liked that he didn’t seem to care what people thought of him, that he painted his nails baby blue and knew how to dress himself. She even liked his tattoos, which she usually secretly judged people for, but on Harry they fit him. She wanted to trace the outlines of them and ask him about the stories behind them, to know everything about him. She liked that he took the hit during rage cage for Maddy. She liked that when they were dancing he gives her a thumbs up to check in and make sure she was doing okay.

She really liked him, she realized as she dances with him. She wanted to impress him, but not in a way that’s uncomfortable—more in a way where she just wanted him to see the best parts of her. But she also wanted him to know her, she realized. She wanted him to know things about her and like being around her as much as she did. Because he put her on edge, but not because he made her uncomfortable, but because of how much she liked him. She wanted to know him, even if it was just to be friends, because he seemed interesting. She felt like he has layers to him, and every time she snatches another piece of information she only has more questions.

Even if they were just friends, Nora wanted to know him, she decided.

So she decided, fuck it all, and danced like she didn’t have a care in the world, because she wanted him to see the real her. She wanted him to see her awkward dancing and to accidentally hit him in the face with her hair so that he knew her and could bail if he didn’t like her. She wanted to give him and out and see if he took it.

And he didn’t.

They dance for what feels like forever, their beers long gone. He grabbed her hand at one point when people were becoming pushy and pulled her closer to him, their sweaty bodies touching each other practically every time they move. They sang their favorite songs, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “I fucking love this song,” when Mamma Mia came on, and Nora decided that it’s the cutest thing she had ever found out about someone. She told him about her obsession with Drake when In My Feelings comes on, and he admitted that he listened to this song on repeat for three hours one time. They had these snippets of conversation on the dance floor, their faces close and voices loud enough to be heard over the music.

SexyBack came on and they both devolve into seventh graders, obsessed with this song and not really caring about the meaning. Nora danced, throwing her hands up and dropping her hips lower than she had before.

And then someone slammed into her back, throwing her straight into Harry’s chest.

The feeling of him close to her set her skin on fire.

She had kept just enough distance during the evening to make sure they weren’t this close, but it had not taken much for them to be fully flush against each other. And now they were and Nora could feel everything. One of her hands was on his pecs and she could feel the smooth muscle across his chest, and the other hand landed on his side, the palm of her hand on his abs and she felt the outline of abs there. Her fingers dug into his skin, grappling for balance as she tried to find her footing.

Harry’s hands immediately found her waist, holding her steady. His fingers felt like they were searing on her lower back, the contact sending Nora into outer space. And she didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or from him, but either way her head was spinning a bit.

“You okay?” He asked, his accent smooth as butter in her ear. His lips were close enough that they brush softly against her hair and the edge of her ear. Nora was trying not to hyperventilate, but also maintain her footing, and not press all of her weight onto Harry.

She was about to answer that yes, she was fine, so sorry, when someone bumped into her again, pushing her back into Harry. He stumbles this time and wrapped his arms around Nora fully to try and keep them both upright. He was essentially hugging her at this point and Nora thought her heart might have stopped the second she felt him tug her close to him.

“Someone’s really trying to push you over, aren’t they?” He said with a chuckle into your ear.

“I’m so sorry,” Nora apologized, finding her footing and straightening. She didn’t push away from Harry though, and he didn’t let go of her. “I didn’t mean to fall onto you—or into you, I guess?”

He shook his head. “No matter. You okay, love?”

Love. The word reverberated through Nora’s head and she tried to keep her wits about her. She knew she was feeling mushy tonight—all these thoughts of Harry and how adorable he was and sweet and kind had got her melting for him, but maybe that was the alcohol? She couldn’t keep it straight. And when he called her love, all of the efforts to keep it together just fall apart.

“I’m okay,” she answered softly. “Are you?” She looked up and into his eyes, and even though the room was dark, she could still make out his eyes in the strobing lights, the flashes of his beautiful hair and his high cheekbones. She could see his eyes meet hers and Nora felt this pull in her chest to kiss him. He didn’t break eye contact with her and Nora was just searching his eyes, begging for an answer, an explanation, some hint to tell her what to do and what he bloody wanted.

Because she knew what she wanted. She wanted to kiss him.

“‘M fine.” His voice was like sandpaper and she wondered if his mouth was as dry as hers was. He hadn’t moved his hands from her back, only loosened them slightly so he was not holding her quite so close.

She inched her fingers upwards, one landing on his shoulder, the other on his elbow. Nora wondered if she was imagining the way his breathing had quickened. Did she kiss him? She wanted to. She wanted to kiss him so bad. She wanted to know what his lips feel like on hers, if they were as soft as they felt when they bushed her ear. She wanted to know what he tasted like and how he would kiss her. Did she just do it? She searched his eyes one last time, the seconds stretching into what feels like hours. “Can I kiss you?”

He blinked.

Nora held her breath.

Then, his lips were on hers and suddenly Nora knew exactly what his lips feel like on hers. They were soft like velvet and he smelled like heaven.

He kissed her like it was his last breath, desperate to know if she breathed the same air as him. Deep and wanting, the intensity building with every press of his lips to hers. It was urgent, yet soft—he didn’t lick into her mouth, just stays on her lips. And man, can the boy kiss.

Her hand moved from his shoulder to his neck and wound through the hair there, a breathless moan leaving his mouth, and she wondered if he liked it when she pulled his hair.

So when he finally did lick his tongue against the seam of her lips and she widened them, she pulled, ever so softly.

And he moaned deeply, his grip on her waist tightening.

Nora wanted to kiss him for the rest of time.

Her other hand moved from his elbow to his back, fingers finding the material of his shirt and pulling him closer to her. Her fingers curled into the cotton, the sweat from them dancing on her palm but she didn’t care because she wanted him closer. She could feel every inch of his body flush with hers and she loved it—the way he felt against her, the way her skin was lit on fire, the way she wanted to drink purely Harry until the end of time.

“Nora,” he said, pulling back, allowing both of them to catch their breath, “do you want to come upstairs?”

She hesitated. It’s not that she didn’t want to—she’d love to fuck this boy until the dawn of time—but she had no idea where her friends were, and she would rather not let them think she’d been kidnapped. And if she thought about it, she knew she probably shouldn’t. She barely knew Harry and she had class twice a week with him, and most likely a discussion section on top of it. If it didn’t work out, she had to see him constantly for the rest of the semester, which was not ideal.

His finger raised her chin slightly so she had to look into his eyes. “I’m not trying to get you to sleep with me, by the way. I just want to get out of this fuckin’ sweaty crowd so I can kiss you properly and not worry if I’m going to be kicked in the back. And if you don’t want to, that’s totally fine too. I’ll stay here if you’d rather that. Or we don’t have to kiss at all—I don’t want you to do anything you have to.” He was rambling, unsure of his standing. Her hesitation had thrown him for a loop and Harry wasn’t sure if she even wanted to kiss him at all anymore. Was she into it? He thought she was from the way she pulled him towards her, but from the hesitation he wasn’t sure and he wanted to be sure.

“No, it’s not that,” she said, and his fears were immediately pushed aside. “I just want to let my friends know where I am first.”

“Oh,” Harry said. “Where are they?”

Nora looked around the crowd, but couldn’t catch sight of them anywhere. “When I left they were here. Lemme try texting them.” She pulled out her phone and found a string of texts from the group chat with Maddy, Taylor and Lauren discussing the fact that she was making out with Harry Styles and that they were fine and to do whatever she wanted, that they’d find her when they were going to go and check in. Truly the best friends of all time. She quickly texted them that she was going upstairs to Harry’s room and then she looked back up at him, his lips quirked in a smile. Nora wondered if he saw the texts, but then decided there’s no reason to freak out—he was making out with her, after all. “Upstairs?”

“Upstairs.” His fingers wound through hers and he led the way out of the crowd, dodging groups of frantic dancers and couples making out just as they had been. He navigated the crowd with ease, his tall frame putting him a head above most other people, and Nora just held onto his hand and let him lead her out of the crowd and up the stairs.

It was quieter on the second floor, a row of doors to bedrooms shut and soft music drifting out of some, the loud thud of the bass from the main floor less intense. Nora stayed close to Harry, her body magnetic to his. He led her down the hall, telling her who lives in all the other rooms, pointing to the bathroom as they passed it, just in case she needed it. Then, they were standing outside a room with his name on the door and he turned to her.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked her, searching for confirmation, which he found when Nora nodded.

He pushed open the door, a soft light from his bedside table lamp illuminating bits of the room. Nora saw posters of bands, a minimalist map of Milan, and stacks upon stacks of books lining the walls. She stepped inside and he shut the door behind her, and she continued to investigate the room, taking stock of the various pieces of information she could collect from its decoration. A guitar leaned against the wall, sheets of paper next to it with scribblings on them—he was a musician—and a basket of cleanly folded laundry lies in the corner so she knew he was clean and tidy. He had photos of his family on his dresser, which warmed her heart, and a stereo in the corner with a stack of records next to it.

“What do you think?”

She turned to him. He was leaning against his door, a look of curiosity and a hint of fear on his face. They were still learning about each other, and he had exposed a huge part of who he is to her by letting her in here. “I think you like music and books.”

Harry just laughed. “Well, you’re right about that.”

He didn’t move from the door, so Nora decided to take the lead. She wanted to kiss this boy again, not have a conversation about his favorite book he read or the musician that transformed his understanding of music. She sat on the edge of his bed, leaned back on her hands, and gave Harry a look that screamed, “Come.”

And he does, a quirk in his brow. He stood between her widened legs, brushed a thumb across her jawline, and then leand down to reconnect their lips. Nora softened immediately, her hands begging for purchase on his skin, and pulled him towards her. Harry kicked off his boots and then gently pushed Nora up on the bed, following her, the desire written all over his face. He was about to lean down to kiss her again when Nora said, “Wait. Shirt?”

He pulled it over his head without a second thought, and Nora relished in the sight of his tattoos. The butterfly on his abdomen she’d seen before, the swallows on his pecs, the ship on his arm that she hadn’t. The small musings up and down his arms that she would look closer at later, she decided. In the mean time, she pulled him in by his neck and he collapsed into her, his weight a welcome feeling against her body. Nora widened her knees and hooked her ankles around him, resting them on his lower back. The pressure pushed him closer to her core and she gasped at the feeling—she couldn’t help it. He was big. Bigger than she expected.

Harry stopped his assault on her neck and looked up at her. “This okay?”

“God yes,” she replied. “Keep going.”

He smiled, and returned his lips to her neck, pulling and prodding at her skin with his lips and his teeth, sucking what would be a hickey later onto the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Usually Nora despised hickeys, but she couldn’t find the reason to care right now. Her hands scrabbled at his skin, trying to find purchase, the feeling of him grinding slowly into her and his lips on her neck almost too much.

“Harry,” she said, gasping for air as he tugged at the neck of her shirt to gain more access, “roll over.”

She unhooked her ankles and he rolled, pliant to her words. She straddled him immediately, loving the view of Harry Styles spread out beneath her. His hair was tousled from her fingers, lips swollen from her kisses, chest rising fast from her. She felt him beneath where she sat on his abdomen and it made her smile. Then, she pulled her shirt off and she watched him look at her.

Nora hadn’t always loved her body. She remembered the first time she ever took off her shirt, the boy looking at her didn’t know what to say or do with her breasts, and she hated it. She wondered if they were too big—girls in films have breasts, but never ones that were like hers. The size that hurt when she ran and gave her back aches. The size her friends didn’t really understand—the size Nora hated as a teenager. But in the past two years she decided to stop giving a fuck. She thought she was beautiful and she was done letting what other people think of her change that. And when she let Harry look at her, she was wondering what he was thinking. Did he think she was as beautiful as she does?

And then he told her. “Good lord,” he said, voice hoarse, “you’re gorgeous.” He leaned up and kissed her cleavage that’s exposed, Nora’s fingers finding a home in his curls.

“Fuck, H,” she whined at the feeling of his lips on her tender skin. She bent down and captures his lips with her own, pressing him back onto his back, loving their bare skin on one another. They were battling for both air and dominance, and when Nora’s lips started traveling down his neck and onto his chest, Harry thought he stopped breathing for a second. She sucks a hickey on his pec, right above the swallow, and then blew on it and he practically shivered from the sensitivity.

He could feel her traveling southward and even though he wanted her to suck him off—good lord did he want her too—he stopped her. He tugged her up, reattaching their lips, a “C’mere,” whispered between them. He wanted to kiss her for longer, he wanted to drag this out as long as possible. And also, quite honestly, if she kept occasionally rolling her hips like she was doing he might come from that alone. She was gorgeous, yes in the way she looked, but also the confidence she exuded and the way she told him what she wantd and the way she was tracing up and down his arms and sides with her fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He was fucked, because this girl had managed to turn him into putty after knowing him for just one week.

And then she started really moving her hips back and forth. Nora knew what it wa doing to him and she loved it—loved the knowledge that she was the one making him feel this way and she wanted to see how far it would go, how far she could take it. So as she kissed him, their lips moving in sync, she rolled her hips on his, grinding down every once and a while, drinking up every breathless moan leaving Harry’s lips, savoring each grunt, and when he let out a low, “Nora, please, fuck,” she knew she had him in her hand.

She smiled against his mouth and turned her head, leaning down to his ear, and whispered, “Tell me what you want, H.” He grunted and she rolled her hips again, the seam of his jeans rubbing against her clit in a way that sent shivers down her spine. “What do you want?” She asked, her voice low and dripping with desire.

“You,” he said finally. “Fuck, Nora, I want you.”

Nora kisses his cheek and then makes her way down his chest, making a path right to his dick. Harry had given up any contemplation of waiting, he couldn’t wait anymore. He wanted her so bad it genuinely physically hurt. He needed to come and he needed to come now. Nora popped the button on his jeans and Harry lifted his hips to let her pull them down.

Then, a series of knocks came from the door.

Nora’s head whipped up and so did Harry’s. No one knocked on his door usually. They knew he was private, that he didn’t like people in his space unless he invited them.

“Nora?” Maddy’s voice could be heard over the dull throbbing of the bass from downstairs, and Nora let out a sigh. “We’re heading out babes.”

Nora looked between Harry and the door. “Give me one second,” she called back to Maddy, her eyes not leaving Harry. “I’m going to go,” she told him. She had shit to do tomorrow. But also, she wanted to make sure she was not making a mistake by hooking up with Harry, since she was going to be seeing him all the time for the rest of the semester. She wanted to think about this, because she wasn’t expecting this to happen and needed to take a moment to consider the repercussions of her actions. She barely knew Harry—what would he do if they fuck? Would he ignore her for the rest of the semester? He might be nice, but he was still a fratboy, and Nora had enough experience in that department to know the norm wasn’t to bring a girl flowers after.

“Everything okay?” He asked, sitting up as she snatched her shirt from the other side of the bed where had she discarded it.

She nodded. “I just need a second to…think.”

Harry considered this. He wondered if she was thinking the same thing he is—that they have class together for the rest of the semester and it was probably not the best idea to fuck your classmate the first weekend of the semester. “Okay,” he replied. “No worries. I’ll, uh, see you in class, I guess?”

Nora was tugging on her booties and she looked at him with a small smile on her face. “Bright and early Monday morning.”

Harry got up, rebuttoning his pants. As Nora was about to open the door, he grabbed her wrist, acting on pure instinct, and pressed a kiss against her lips. It was softer than the ones before, a simple kiss that was a goodbye, but also a question. A question begging, “What’s next?” Nora broke the kiss, and with a touch to the hickey left behind above the swallow, she was out the door and gone.

Harry stumbled to his bed, his body hitting the mattress with a sigh.

He was so, so royally fucked.

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i hope you guys enjoyed this! this is my first fic and i’m super excited about her. :) let me know what you think of my lil frat boy harry. there is more coming soon. xoxo

ask me about fratboy!harry here | masterlist here

[zebrabaker]

The Mermaid, A MLB Oneshot

THIS IS A ONESHOT, DO NOT ASK FOR MORE!

Adrien was bored. He was in yet another lesson, and his father was expecting him to spend time with Princess Chloe later. Better her than Princess Lila, at least. Finally, Madame Mendelieve closed her book, and headed for the door. Adrien sat still until she was gone, before jumping up out of his seat. He stretched his back and ran for the door that lead to the servant’s passages. He ran along the narrow, winding paths, before reaching the small courtyard where his best friend, Nino, was practicing his guitar.

“Hey man! How were lessons?” Nino adjusted his hat and looked up at him, smiling. This was why Adrien liked Nino. He didn’t treat him like a prince, but like a friend. It was refreshing.

“Boring as ever.” Adrien huffed, and joined his friend in the bench.

“Well I have some good news! Captain Theo has brought back something awesome from his latest trip! You’ll never guess what it is.”  Nino smirked and plucked a string.

“What? Another treasure chest?” Adrien scoffed.

“Nope. An actual mermaid!” Adrien froze. A mermaid? No way.

“Be realistic, Nino. Mermaids are just myths.”

“No! I saw this one myself! We can go see it tomorrow morning, I’ll set it up. It’s gonna be so cool!” Nino bounced, excited.

“Alright, alright. For now, let’s head in; it’s almost time for lunch.” Adrien gave Nino a hand up, and the two reentered the palace

X0X0X

Marinette swam back, assessing the glass that held her. She flicked her tail as she thought, before nodding. She angled her shoulders, braced her arms, and slashed her tail down. Her body jetted through the water, and she rammed against the glass and bounced off. With a growl, she watched the glass. Nothing. She had rammed the glass dozens of times and nothing had happened! A weak chuckle came from the outside of her tank, and she glared at the human leaning against the wall across from her enclosure.

“That won’t work, little fish. The glass is bulletproof. No matter how many times you ram into it, it won’t even crack. You may as well rest. The prince will be here to see you in the morning.” He smirked at her before strolling away. She had to get home. She couldn’t stay here! Without her, the sea would die! She swam back, assessed the glass, and readied herself again.

X0X0X

Adrien followed Nino deep into the basement of the palace. They weren’t near the old dungeons, but he still felt uneasy.

“How much further?” He hissed to Nino.

“Just through here. C’mon!” Nino grabbed his wrist and pulled him through the doorway into a dark room. Nino flipped the lights on, and Adrien glanced around. One wall was glass, and looked like an aquarium. The bottom of the tank was coated in sand, with pearls of various sizes and colors scattered about. There were a few strands of seaweed swaying in the water, and the largest clam shell he had ever seen was sitting open in the center. It looked like it could host a mermaid, but that was just it. There was no mermaid. Adrien turned to Nino and sighed.

“I told you, Nino, mermai- “Adrien was cut off when he heard a large thunk from the other side of the glass. He wheeled about, and felt his jaw drop.

Floating on the other side of the glass was an honest to god mermaid. Her hair was black, and her tail a vivid pink, almost red. Her eyes, which glared hatefully at him, were a shimmering blue. Her skin was paler than a pearl, and she had a splattering of freckles. She pounded a fist against the glass, and he realized she had been making odd sounds at them.

“Whoa. She’s…” Adrien trailed off, unsure of what to say. Lovely did not fit, nor did beautiful. She was flawless.

“Creepy? Yeah. I mean, it’s pretty and all that, but something about it just sets me on edge.” Nino shuddered. Adrien glanced at his friend, confused. She was not creepy! She was the most perfect thing he had ever seen. He glanced back at her and sighed. She was swimming away now, tail slashing through the water.

“Where is she going?” He asked Nino.

“It keeps trying to break the glass. It won’t work, though. The glass is bullet proof.” Nino knocked against the glass, smirking. “Just think, the kingdom of Agreste has it’s own personal mermaid. I hear that their singing can convince men to throw themselves overboard. Wanna see if it’ll sing for us?” Nino pulled his guitar from his back, and strummed a cord. Suddenly, the mermaid was there, face and hands pressed up against the glass. She was staring at Nino with her pupils blown wide. He continued to play, a small shanty he had learned from the sailors down by the docks, and the mermaid began to hum.

X0X0X

Marinette would never admit, but she loved human music. They could not sing, not like her people, so they had made things to do it for them. The darker human was using one right now, pulling at strings and watching her. She began to hum, wanting him to play more. When he did not stop, when she began to sing in her mother tongue.

“Oh, the waves roll low

And the waves roll high,

And so, it goes,

Under a bright blue endless sky.

Waves try to measure,

The days that we treasure,

Wave hello and wave goodbye.”

It was an ancient lullaby, one that every merfolk heard from their parents at some point as a baby. The humans were staring at her, wide eyed. The pale one hit the darker one on the arm, and said something she could not hear. The darker one gulped and began to play again. Marinette beamed and quickly thought of another lullaby, one Queen Anarka had taught her the last time she and her children had come to visit.

“Hush now, mo stoirin,

Close your eyes and sleep.

Waltzing the waves,

Diving the deep.

Stars are shining bright,

The wind is on the rise.

Whispering words, of long-lost lullabies.

Oh, won’t you come with me?

Where the moon is made of gold.

And in the morning sun,

We’ll be sailing.

Oh, won’t you come with me?

Where the ocean meets the sky.

And as the clouds roll by,

We’ll sing the song of the sea.”

Marinette held the last note, and sighed when it was done. She loved that song. It sounded better when her friends acted as her chorus, but it was okay on her own. The door opened behind the two humans, and let in the one who had caught her. He was tall and had dark hair, wearing a great deal of dark fabric. The two smaller humans spoke with him, before leaving with him. Marinette sighed. She hated being alone. Merfolk were social creatures, almost always together. Worst of all was that the small space she was kept in was dark, with no lava pockets or glow fish to give her heat and light. She shivered, and swam into the seaweed patch. Her family would get her out of here soon.

X0X0X

They returned the next day, the pale one and the dark one. This, time, neither carried an instrument. Instead, the sat and stared at her. The pale one began to sing, and the dark one reluctantly joined him. Marinette recognized the song. It was a love song! How dare this puny human try to woo her! She glared and sat down inside the large clam shell, turning her back. She was engaged, as any merfolk with eyes could tell. Of course, human’s might not be able to, but she still would not sing with them. She sat with her back turned until they left. She would be out of here soon enough.

X0X0X

Adrien burst into Nino’s room, beaming.

“Whoa, Adrien! Is everything okay, dude?” Nino stood from his bed, setting aside his headphones.

“I just had the best idea, Nino! A festival! We call for the most talented musicians in the land, and we have them perform with her! We can move her cage into the square! It’ll be great!” Adrien was bouncing in place.

“That’s a great idea, dude! We’ll have to ask Captain Theo, since he’s the one who caught it though.” Nino grabbed his headphones and headed for the door. “Let’s go ask!”

X0X0X

He had said yes, and preparations began at once. Adrien commissioned a large tank, big enough that she could swim around. Nino began sending invites to the best musicians in all of Agreste. Soon, the big day came. The tank was placed in the square, and the mermaid had been moved while she slept. She had woken up dazed and confused, swimming about and looking out at the square. She had caught sight of the water on the other end of the square, and had been staring at it ever since.

X0X0X

She knew humans were foolish, but this was extreme. She was within just a few yards of the ocean; she could hear it calling out for her! She hummed, low in the back of her throat, and waited. After just a few minutes, she heard the reply.

“We cannot reach you, princess! You are too far! Try to move closer!” It was Sir Pierre, head of the guard. She looked around, frantic. She was so close! She just had to move this tank! She rammed her shoulder against the side, and growled when nothing happened. She tried, again and again, to move closer, but all she did was slosh water over the edge of her tank.

“I can’t! The cage I am in is too heavy! I will distract the humans while you look for a way to get me out!” Marinette swept around the cage, looking at all the humans staring at her. She saw several in a line, each holding an instrument. The pale one who visited her was standing on a platform, facing the crowd. He began to speak, and one of the humans in line stepped forward. Two others came over and quickly assembled a device next to her tank. Once the machine was all together, he smirked at the crowd before pushing several buttons. The machine began to emit horrible sounds, but the humans seemed to enjoy it. She slammed her hands over her ears, and shook her head, trying to block out the noise. It sounded like the machine was trying to make music, but was failing. Horribly. It was dull and lifeless, lacking soul. After a few seconds of this torture, the pale one spoke again. The one controlling the machine yelled at him, before stomping off. The two humans form before disassembled the machine, and another human stepped forward. This one had vivid hair and dramatic clothes. It strummed at it’s guitar, and began to sing.

“Record scratch; Steve Miller Band, Tattooed necks and tattooed hands. Oh, how don’t you drown in a rain storm? Fresh regrets, vodka sweats, the sun is down and we’re bound to get exhausted and so far from the shore.” Marinette trilled when the human began the song. She knew this one from a few fishing boats playing it while they were working! She gladly joined in, shimmying her tail to the beat.

“You’re never gonna get it, I’m a hazard to myself, I’ll break it to you easy This is hell, this is hell! You’re looking and whispering; you think I’m someone else. This is hell, yes. Literal hell!” She struggled to form the words, as she did not speak the human tongue. “We don’t have to talk, we don’t have to dance, we don’t have to smile, we don’t have to make friends. It’s so nice to meet you, let’s never meet again! We don’t have to talk; we don’t have to dance; we don’t have to dance!” By the end of the song, Marinette was panting, and had almost been distracted from why she was doing this. A few other artists tried to get her to sing, but only one succeeded, a small girl with a violin. After her refusal of another artist, she saw a flash of teal out of the corner of her eye. She twirled in her tank, pretending to be jubilant, but really trying to make sure she hadn’t just imagined what she saw. There he was, hiding in a corner! He winked at her and she couldn’t help but trill.

The pale one was smiling at her, like she was a sea-lion who had just done some cute trick. How ridiculous. Another human came up to him, with long hair the same color as the pale ones. She wore a dress that trailed behind her, and sneered at Marinette. The pale one smiled at her, and the female said something to him. He nodded, and she approached the tank. She snapped her fingers, and a red-haired human approached, carrying a stool. The blonde sat, and began to sing. Marinette slammed her hands over her ear frills and whined. The girl couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket! The blonde snarled, and slammed a hand against the tank, causing ripples in the water that disoriented Marinette. She shook her head, trying to think clearly. The blonde stormed off, and the pale one addressed the crowd before chasing after her.

X0X0X

This was not going how he had planned! The mermaid was supposed to sing with all of the best musicians Agreste had to offer. Instead, she had sung with Jagged Stone and no-one else. He had finally decided to let the commoners try, but only a small girl with a violin managed to get the mermaid to perform. He had panicked, and turned it into a contest. Chloe had then decreed that she could easily make the creature perform, and had begun singing a song from her homeland. The mermaid acted as if she was in physical pain, and Chloe had thrown a fit before storming off. He had told the audience they were going to give the mermaid a break, and chased after her. It had taken half an hour to calm her down and drag her back. By the time he had gotten back onstage, most of the crowd had left, with only a few bored teens still gathered around the tank.

“Your Highness, may I try?” A tall boy with hair that faded to teal at the tips was standing by the stage, gazing up at Adrien hopefully.

“You can try, but there’s no guarantee she’ll respond.” Adrien shrugged. This boy didn’t even have an instrument that he could tell, but it couldn’t hurt. The boy nodded, and headed for the tank, where the mermaid was watching him approach. The boy sat on the stool Chloe had abandoned and smiled at the mermaid.

“Lavender’s blue, dilly, dilly, lavender’s green. When I am King dilly, dilly, you shall be queen.” The mermaid beamed and twisted about as if twirling.

“Who told you so, dilly, dilly, who told you so?” The mermaid sung back, not in the stilted words of before, but flowing and smooth. There was a challenging look in her eye, one that was matched by that in the boys.

“T’was my own heart, dilly, dilly, that told me so.” He shot back, smiling. The two began to sing in unison, and it entrapped Adrien, making him unable to look away.

“Call up your men, dilly, dilly, set them to work. Some to the plow, dilly, dilly, some to the fork. Some to make hay, dilly, dilly, some to cut corn, while you and I, dilly, dilly, keep our selves warm. Lavender’s green, dilly, dilly, lavender’s blue, if you love me, dilly, dilly, I will love you.”

“Let the birds sing, dilly, dilly, and the lambs play. We shall be safe, dilly, dilly, out of harm’s way.” The mermaid took over, placing one of her hands flat against the glass, while the other was fisted over her heart. “I like to dance, dilly, dilly, I like to sing. When I am queen, dilly, dilly, you’ll be my king. Who told me so, dilly, dilly, who told me so? I told myself so, dilly, dilly, I told me so.” She pulled out the last note, and Adrien was shocked to see the usually hateful mermaid, smile tenderly at the blue-haired boy. Then, there was a crash from behind him. Adrien wheeled around, trying to find the source, only to see a broken vase laying in the road.

By the time he turned back around, the blue-haired boy had thrown something into the tank. The mermaid grabbed it, and leapt out of the tank, flinging it about her shoulders. She landed not as a girl with the tail of a fish, but a seal. The boy scooped the seal into his arms, and ran for the water. He tossed the animal in, before turning to face Adrien.

“Take her again and we will sink your nation like we did Atlantis!” He bellowed, before diving into the water. Adrien ran to the edge of the dock, and waited, frantic. The boy was human, he would need to breathe eventually. He stood, frantically searching the water, before he saw them. The two were holding each other tight, wrapped in each-others arms. She was back to being a mermaid, her tail flicking just below the surface. When the young prince finally dragged his gaze to the boy, he was shocked. He now had a tail, longer than hers, that shimmered green and teal. The two were speaking in a language he did not understand, but from the way his hands cupped her cheeks it was a private moment. The mermaid flashed him a furious glare, before diving into the ocean.

“What just happened?” He asked.

“Dude.” Nino muttered. “I think your pet just ran away.

[torannosaurusrexy]

Champagne & Pools

Chapter 1/?: “Commando”

➝ Genre: Fic

➝ Pairing: Jeon Jungkook | Reader

WARNING: This AU contains language, recreational drug usage, and sexual themes that some readers may find unsettling, please take caution when reading.

➝ Word Count: 5.2k

➝ Summary: After a night full of red solo cups, gyrating bodies, and too many hot frat boys to count ends, you wake without a memory of it. Jungkook however, remembers all of it, and will do whatever he has to to convince you that it was the greatest night of his existence.

➝ Chapter Song: < LISTEN HERE >

Pain floods your head when you wake this morning. Bounds of bad decisions coalesce and force the pain to get even worse when you open your eyes. Whatever happened last night was more than you originally signed up for. Flashes of colorful lights, jello shots, and cannon balls assault your hungover memory. You press the heel of your palm into your sore sockets, pining for a relief that never comes. When removed you examine the room around you. It’s not yours that’s for damn sure, unless of course you forgot how to clean and own a bong. Not Yoongi’s either, he’d never live in a room that wasn’t a shade of gray. 

You must still be at the frat house. Its the only true way to explain your hangover and the fuzzy memories you have of vibrating bass and—oh shit, where is your phone and your…panties? With your mind bombarded and worrisome tendencies you hadn’t even come to realize that astride your body, with an arm holding you firm at the waist is a slumbering young man. His hair is a deep cocoa color. His lips are parted by incoming air, and his other hand is tucked neatly behind his head. Slowly, you try to peel yourself away from him but of course, his bed creaks more than your sore bones. 

You manage to escape, finding the jeans you wore last night. Thankfully, your bra is still on and a shirt remains flush against your body. Fuck your panties, leaving before he wakes up is more important right now. Besides, they were not your favorite pair anyway. Creeping over discarded socks, questionable pizza boxes, and condom wrappers, you enter the hallway. 

You jump upon spotting your best friend, fingers toying with the button to your jeans.

“You look like shit.” Yoongi chimes, brushing his teeth.

“Morning to you too.” You whisper, trying to keep your pain at an all time low. 

He chuckles, pausing his teeth brushing to point at you. “Fly’s down.”

“Huh?”

He points again, shrugging, “Your shutters are open. Y’know, I can see bikini bottom…are you commando?” He spits into the bathroom sink, filled with crushed beer cans.

“Shhhhh, I’ll explain later, please tell me your bed is open; I can’t possibly walk home right now.” Yoongi smirks, a knowing look.

“That good huh?” He rinses the toothbrush.

You scratch your head, suddenly worried about your hair and the clown mask smeared across your face. “Nothing memorable that’s for sure.”

“You don’t remember last night?”

“Just the couple hundred jello shots I downed.”

Yoongi sucks air through gritted teeth, “Yikes.”

“Yeah…now, bed?” You point at his door, across the hall and ajar from him coming out of it. 

“Sorry Captain Commando, unlike someone…I scored last night.”

“Who’s to say I didn’t?”

Yoongi crosses his arms, amused. “You didn’t, I handed you off to Jungkook when you tried to strip near the pool. I figured if you were going to be naked I’d rather you do it behind closed doors.” So that’s who’s bedroom you woke up in. You should’ve recognized him, it must’ve been your rush to leave that kept you from realizing.

You clear your throat, “I’ll repeat my question, who’s to say I didn’t score?” You cross your arms.

Yoongi continues his assault, smiling wide. “I. Handed. You. Off. To. Jungkook.”

You nod, still confused. You have just emerged panty-less from a rather attractive college frat boys bedroom. To many, that’s enough to say you got laid. Then again…you don’t remember getting dick, and you have a feeling Jeon Jungkook’s would be rather memorable.  “Yeah…Jungkook is the designated panty dropper of BTS, and clearly he snatched mine.”

“Nah, he knows you’re off limits.”

You cluck your tongue, “Which only makes me more desirable.”

Yoongi sighs, rolling his eyes. “None of the guys will touch you because you’re friends with me. Get used to being dry sweetheart.”

“Ugh, cock block.” You sigh, smiling because you know he’s right.

“Trust me, Jungkook would be just as surprised as you were this morning to find you half naked. He was clothed wasn’t he?”

“Yeah…”

“That should be enough to prove me right. Now if you’ll excuse me…morning head is calling.” He walks towards his door.

“Fuck you Yoongi." You call after him.

He whispers back, sending you a kiss. “Love you too babe, there’s food downstairs if you wanna make some breakfast. Jin might have a spare pair of panties too if you’re interested.”

“Hard pass.” Jin’s collection of hoe’s lingerie is enticing, but equably disgusting.

What Yoongi called food was leftover chicken stir-fry, a questionable jar of mayonnaise…and whipped cream which you have a sneaking suspicion is Taehyung’s and isn’t meant for regular consumption. Thankfully, they own a box of just add water pancake mix, and you count that as a major score. You try not to make too much noise, considering you’re probably not the only one around here with a pounding headache. You’d already searched for some sort of over the counter relief only to come up empty. So you settle for a glass of water instead. Using your phone to play some light music, you flip the pancakes with ease. While doing so you can’t help but let your mind wander back to the night before. 

What could have possibly led to you falling asleep in Jungkook’s arms? To be fair, you are a rather flirtatious drunk and think that could have led to Jungkook being fished in by Yoongi. Yoongi would have enjoyed watching you make a fool of yourself all over Jungkook. He definitely saw more than he bargained for. Then again…knowing Yoongi, he would’ve pushed for Jimin instead. Its possible that Jimin was…preoccupied and Jungkook was a last stitch resort. 

Poor Jungkook, the kid has only been part of the frat for a couple months now and he’s already been subjected to assault via drunk you. You figured he would’ve gone at least a year without that happening. Now that you’re thinking about it, you probably cost him a hookup last night. 

“Crap!” You yelp, inhaling smoke from a now charred pancake, hacking it back up. 

“Having trouble?”

You turn, finding Jimin shirtless and leaning against the countertop. 

“Clearly.” You choke, drinking him in. “I’ll blame it on the hangover.”

Jimin laughs, gleaming under his faded orange locks. His roots are darker now, smothering the orange in an inky hue. It has definitely been a few months since the initial dyeing. Curse the fact that he makes it look so fucking good. “After last night I figured you would have one. I’ll make you a protein shake, god knows I need one.”

“Thank you, I’ll return the favor in pancakes.” You clear your throat, trying to sound less squeaky. “What do you mean by ‘after last night’?”

Jimin licks yogurt off a spoon, pointing it at you after he does so. “Right…Yoongi mentioned that your memory might be a little fuzzy.”

“You saw him this morning?”

Jimin grins, eyes on what he’s preparing. “Nah, heard him though.” You shiver. “I caught him kissing some girl late last night, dragged him by the ear to find out if you were alright, he mentioned it then. Considering the unholyness I heard when I passed his door, I think he found her again after we talked.”

You blush, clearing your throat. “And..?”

“He said that your liver couldn’t handle Jin’s jello shots and that he called time of death just a few minutes before I found him.”

“That bastard.”

You both chuckle lightly at Yoongi’s dark humor. “Yeah well, thank god that wasn’t the truth.”

“Maybe not, but this pounding in my head is making me re-think the whole living thing.”

You hear something rattling behind you, and turn to see Jimin shaking a small pill bottle. Advil no doubt. “Breakfast of champions.” He smiles, tossing it to you.

“Balanced as all things should be.” Jimin laughs, watching as you place two on the counter before pushing the bottle back to him. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Jimin turns the blender on. You flinch. “Sorry.” He says once that step is complete. “I should have warned you.”

“No it’s okay, I deserved that.”

“And this.” Jimin winks, sliding a freshly blended protein monstrosity towards you.

You shut off the stove, serving your pancakes on a large plate next to the drinks. The sound of their preparation may have ripped your mental state to shreds, but the taste of protein pumped berry goodness was well worth it.

You end up moaning out loud when the shake hits your tongue, a soothing hint of mint serenading the thumping of your skull. You swallow the Advil with it. When you open your eyes Jimin is watching you closely, taking a hefty swig from his own shake. “Good?” He asks after swallowing, a knowing grin smeared across his pillow lips.

“If my moan wasn’t clarification enough, then yes.” He nods, pleased with your answer. You pick up a pancake, dousing it in the syrup you found in one of the cabinets that wasn’t dedicated to hot Cheetos or peanut butter.

“So, I heard about the pool.”

“Oh god don’t remind me. All I know is Yoongi handed me off to Jungkook at some point…I’m assuming it was after my thirty-second jello shot, but before my walk of shame.”

“Yikes.”

You hum an affirmation, “Yeah, I think Jin cut me off at some point. So maybe doing a strip-tease by the pool was my form of rebellion.”

“It definitely was something.”

“Oh great, you saw it too?”

“Everyone saw it love. I hate to say it but…you were the highlight of the party.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head too much, Namjoon ended up slipping in some puke last night, landed in Tae’s lap. Everyone forgot about your debut into stripperhood by then.”

“Phew, good thing Jungkook was there when he was. There could be a viral video of me naked by your pool if he wasn’t.”

“Would that be such a shame?” Jimin smiles, wiggling his eyebrows. You punch his shoulder. 

“Trust me, it would have been.” 

Jimin pauses his sipping, “I’m kind of surprised Jungkook was by the pool at all. I figured he of all people would’ve been drowning in some freshman pussy.” 

You chuckle, but deep down you’re worried that pussy may have been yours in the end.

“Yeah I woke up next to him this morning, it seems like he took watching me pretty seriously.”

“If he took advantage I swear I’ll--”

You laugh, “I don’t think you need to worry. Yoongi laughed when I mentioned that possibility. He said I’m off limits.”

“Shame.”

“Hm?”

“I just feel bad. I would have gladly given you my bed instead beautiful.”

You blush, licking remnants of syrup from your fingertips. The plate of pancakes now finds itself empty, syrup littering the expanse. “I’ll remember that for next time.” You manage to say, a finger brushing your lower lip. Jimin gleams. “I should probably meet up with Raegan, she’ll want to know if I lived.” Gulping the last bit of shake, you grab the last strand of dignity you have and start for the door.

“You sure you don’t need a ride or anything? I don’t have class today.”

“Thanks Chim, but my dorm is only a block or so away, I’ll manage.” Jimin follows you into the foyer, ripped streamers and empty solo cups littering its usually pristine landing. “Thanks for the shake. I feel a lot better.”

“Anything for my favorite girl.”

You roll your eyes, “I thought that was Tae’s spot, don’t let him catch you slipping.”

Jimin laughs, “Tell that to Namjoon. I’ll text you.”

“Okay, bye Chim.”

You close the front door behind you, finding the sun to be more bearable now that your stomach is happy and your liver doesn’t want to kill you. “Holy shit, Jimin wasn’t wearing a shirt. And I was able to talk…this has been a strange twenty-four hours.” 

“Strange isn’t the word I would use.” Hoseok emerges from the bushes below the front steps, his shirt is half unbuttoned and he has leaves in his hair. “What time is it?” He rubs his eyes subconsciously.

“My god Hoseok! What the fuck!” You hold your heart, coming down from the scare you just received. 

“Ow! Don’t fucking yell dipshit!” He screams back, squinting at you under messy red locks.

“What in the sam hell are you doing sleeping with the worms?”

“I must have blacked out here, that rager really was something.” He points to the mulch he used as a mattress, an assprint pushed into it. “Leaving so soon princess? The party isn’t over yet.” 

“Funny, but it’s noon and I have an iced coffee with my name on it. You need to eat something solid, and find a breath mint.”

“I can give you something solid.”

“Goodbye Hoseok~” You say as you continue down the frat house walkway, giving him a cute little wave as you do so. You can hear him laughing, and it makes you smile. Hoseok may be gross, and he passes out in bushes…but as Yoongi said before, he and the others know you can’t be touched. It sure is funny watching him try though.

“And the jello shot junky returns!”

You do a sarcastic pageant queen spin, complete with an ending pose. “I prefer pong princess. Here.” You hand Reagan her usual order from the Starbucks down the street. 

“Thank you, slave.” She smiles through whipped cream dusted lips. You chuckle, plopping yourself into the corner of your shared L-shaped couch next to her. Stained with remnants of Italian Nights and Taco Tuesdays. “So…did you ever find your panties?”

“Fuck, I forgot about those.”

“How could you forget you’re nakey when denim is all up in the Cock Kingdom?” 

You exhale a laugh out of your nose, “First of all, please never refer to my place of business as the Cock Kingdom ever again.”

“Would you prefer Pussy Palace? Dick Dungeon? Phallus Fort?”

“No I- Dick Dungeon? That’s not bad actually…but still a hard no.” You shake your head, both equably disappointed and proud of Rae for having the braincells to come up with such a cacophony of nick-names after the mental beatdown both of you surely took last night. “I forgot to look for them before I left.”

Raegan huffs an affirmation. “My money’s on the pool pavement. It’s definitely out there just waiting to be found by an unsuspecting frat boy. Maybe Jin will add them to his collection…he does have one right?”

“A collection of conquests panties? Sadly yes. And let’s just agree to forget that whole strip tease ever happened.”

“It was more than a strip tease Honey. I will be sure to play the video on your wedding day!” Raegan sips her peppermint monstrosity unphased, mint on her tongue.

“What?” You turn your head violently to face her, sitting up in a rush.

Raegan continues to describe the horror of a maid-of-honor speech you need to start preparing for, its bound to be a whopper at this rate. “It can be part of my maid of honor speech. Be all sentimental and crap, then just when moms in tears…BAM, stripping at a frat party.”

Grabbing her by the shoulders, you shake your best friend and recorder of all embarrassing moments in your life, “Rae, did you say you have it on video?!”

She breaks free, steading herself with another sip. “Well obviously, drunk me still has her priorities straight.”

“Can I see it?!” You yell.

“Alright alright! Don’t get your panties in a—oh wait…”

“Shut up.”

She laughs, pulling out her phone and scrolling through what must be hundreds of selfies and videos from last nights mistake. Raegan has always been the social drunk. She’s constantly throwing herself in the arms of strangers and chanting the words ‘Lets take a picture!’ through alcohol slurred lips. You are honestly shocked she didn’t wake up alongside Hobi in the bushes this morning.

“Holy shit, Rae is that Taehyung?” You point at her screen, a blurred mess of a snapshot smeared across it.

“Nope, Namjoon.” She beams.

“What is he—“

Raegan swipes twice, “Here wait I have a better picture of it.”

“Oh my god! Raegan Louise!” You yelp, clarity making you look away.

“What?! I saw an opportunity…and I took it!” 

“Never in my life would I picture Namjoon as a human shot glass!”

“His belly-button was the perfect size. Carpe Diem my love.” Raegan shrugs, acting nonchalant about slurping a mouthful of tequila from the frat presidents belly button.

“Fair enough, now where is this life-ruining video of yours.” 

She scrolls further, finding a couple from just after the incident along with a zoom in of your panties.

“If I knew this was going to happen I would’ve worn a cuter pair.” 

“Oh cmon, the giant panda face on the back is so innocent~”

“I’m burning my wardrobe.”

“Here, I found it.”

Raegan presses play. The video shakes for a second and there’s far too much yelling to make out any coherent words. At first, she’s recording the inside of the house. In the background Taehyung is seen doing a keg-stand. If you weren’t so concerned with the upcoming turn of events you would’ve glanced at the way his shirt is gathered around his neck. Instead, you see what Jimin meant by Yoongi kissing some girl. More like swallowing her. 

That’s when you hear it, a cheer so loud it turns heads. Someone runs into the room, informing all of those in it that you’re about to turn the heat up a notch. Yoongi bolts from the girl, no apology leaving his lips when he separates from hers. She follows, wounded and confused. You can hear Rae muttering a profanity under her breath. The camera fumbles in her hands, she pushes past the crowd to reveal you, half-dressed with your arms behind your back about to unclasp your bra. 

You watch in horror, hands over your agape mouth. “Oh god no.”

“Oh honey yes…”

She fast forwards a few seconds, revealing a starstruck Jimin who rushes forward with Yoongi in tow. Before you know it Jimins shirt is off and thrown towards your face. You catch it with a giggle, shimmying your panties off before Jungkook suddenly appears from behind you. He grabs both your legs and throws you over his shoulder. Your ass is completely exposed to all those watching. The cameras final frame shows the slammed back door before it cuts out and all else is left to the imagination. 

“Welp, there you have it.” Raegan says, shrugging.

You are absolutely starstruck, embarrassed and shocked. On the bright side, you now know exactly what happened. Also, that Raegan seemed to be the only one sober enough to record. That’s the hope. “Delete it.”

“What? But I just said—“

“Raegan please. I can never see that video again.”

“Okay, just know that doing so brings me great pain.”

“I apologize.”

Raegan deletes the video with just a few taps, the first frame disappearing from view in lieu of a conversational meme she’s uses over text. “There, goodbye sweet sweet memory.”

“And hello sweet sweet relief.”

The days following seem to be for the most part normal, you attend your classes normally, pumped full of caffeine and dreading finals week. The only ones who spoke of The Incident were Raegan and the BTS boys. Yoongi in particular, just couldn’t let the story go.

“I still can’t believe you made Raegan delete the video. That shit was comedy gold and could have had you going down in BTS rager history.”

“As invigorating as that would have been, I really don’t think I need my portrait framed above the words ‘Pool Panty Princess.’”

“I beg to differ.” Yoongi looks away, swirling a finger around the spoon he submerged in liquid energy. “He told me that he’s been looking for you.”

“What? Who has?” You take a jab at the plate of disco fries ahead of you, doused in gravy and snug beneath layers of cheese. Yoongi watches you do so, content with his black coffee and dark intentions. 

“Jungkook; he’s been acting strange since the party.” You pause your eating, mouth full of the one dish you wish to be buried beneath. “You swear nothing happened between you two?”

“Why are you asking me when you were so sure I would be left high and dry?” You fall back against the booth, worn with previous diners butts. “Besides, I can’t remember anything after darts with Jimin. Everything is a messed up blur.”

“I know. Its just really weird, I’m so used to seeing Kook as the kid who never shuts the fuck up. Lately, he’s been the opposite.”

“Elaborate.”

“Alright well, I was in the kitchen with Jimin the day after the party. Kook came down from his room in the middle of the conversation we were having. Your name happened to come up and he froze.”

“Half the guys have been like that, the party was crazy. Also, what kind of conversation were you having with Jimin where my name was involved?”

“Irrelevant, have you even seen Jungkook?”

You roll your eyes, “No, why?”

“My point exactly. He’s avoiding you.”

“You just said he was looking for me.”

“I’m just saying, it seems like he’s conflicted. Confront him, clearly he remembers something you don’t.”

“How the hell would I do that, Jungkook is like a baby bird. Flightless, skittish, and far too innocent.” 

“Geez, and here I was thinking you always had eyes for Jimin.”

“Besides the point, Jungkook’s in my psychology class, I’ll see him then. I’m sure everything is fine.”

Yoongi laughs, taking another sip from his mug. You blush, suddenly losing your appetite. “You’re not very good at hiding things.”

“And you’re not very good at giving head, so shut up.”

“Oh honey, now you’re just grabbing at straws.”

“Yeah even I knew that was wrong before I said it.”

“How would you know? I’ve never given you head—is this your way of asking?”

“God no! I’ll pass.”

“I’m sure Jimin would oblige, and given the way he’s been acting I’m sure Kook would be down too.”

“Relationship advice from Mr. One Night Stand himself? I’m honored.”

“Eat your fries.”

“Hey.” You try to say the word with some power behind it, however it falls flat against the tile of the stingy classroom floor. Jungkook slips into the seat next to you, looking your way when you speak. 

“Hey.” He copies, slipping his red backpack off and tossing it to the floor. 

You bite your lip, hearing Yoongi’s voice like a mantra in your head.

When you look up from the face of your desk Jungkook’s eyes are on yours and the class is silent. He looks away almost as fast as you looked up, brushing a hand through his fluffy hair. It’s now or never and you can’t possibly let Yoongi berate you about putting this conversation off any longer.

“Jungkook, I need to ask you something.” You watch him lift his head, promptly scanning the class before answering. 

“Okay?” He whispers, displaying a slightly crooked tooth through an agape set of lips. “If this is about finding an old childhood photo of you dressed as a milk man in Yoongi’s wallet then I swear I didn’t tell a soul.”

“No Kook!” The class shushes you. “I’ll explain that another time, this is about last weekend.” Jungkook raises an eyebrow, confused. You explain further, “I woke up in your bed…I didn’t have pants on…ringing any bells?”

Jungkook smiles, on the verge of laughing. “I think I’d remember sleeping with you ______.”

“I beg to differ, you sleep with a lot of girls Jungkook.”

“You calling me a tramp?”

“Maybe, just tell me please. Did we have sex?”

“Why? Do you want to?”

“Kook!” Another shush from the class. 

“I have fifteen before my next class, there’s a janitors closet down the hall, meet there?”

“Jungkook, no. I just want to know if we did anything.”

Jungkook looks away, searching his memories for something helpful. “Tell you what, come to the BTS house tonight, maybe Jin’s jello shots will spur your memory.” 

You roll your eyes. “Just what I need, more vodka.”

“I’d love to help; except there’s still some parts i’m trying to remember myself. So, sorry sweetheart, my lips are sealed…tight.” He puts emphasis on the word tight and it makes you shiver with some kind of foreign anticipation.

“What if I said please?”

“Get on your knees and i’ll consider it.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re starting to sound like Yoongi.”

“Ouch.” Jungkook stands, fellow students rising to rush off to their next lecture. “See you later.” He winks, leaving promptly.

“And how dare you assume a lady like myself would do it in a janitors closet!” You yell after him, but he’s already gone.

“He said he was still trying to figure it out himself, and then he tried to seduce me into a janitors closet.”

“I admire his boldness, but the fuck?” Yoongi licks peanut butter off the knife he’s holding, gingerly using it to cut his sandwich into four little triangles.

“You sound like my inner monologue right now.” You lean against the countertop in the BTS Frathouse kitchen. To your surprise, it looks very nice when the counters aren’t covered in solo cups, horny sorority princesses and stale chips. 

“What happened afterwards?” Yoongi continues, pouring himself a glass of OJ with enough pulp to scare oranges into hiding.

“Nothing, he invited me to the house party tonight—which you happened to not tell me about.”

“Must’ve slipped my mind.” He slurs through the first bite of PB&J.

“I sense sarcasm.”

“At least now you know he wants you here. Maybe stay away from the jello shots this time?”

“I know that much, thanks.” You steal a triangle.

“And if you’re going to do anything with anyone tonight…maybe shoot for Jimin.”

You pause, placing your hands on your hips. “I guess the whole ‘off limits’ thing is shot to hell now.”

“That was before I thought you had a shot with not one, but two of the guys currently drooling at your feet.”

“Oh please…they’re not drooling.”

“You’re right, the word slobbering fits better.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t go, people are going to laugh and say stupid shit about the last party.”

“So what, you have me and the other guys here to back you up. There’s nothing to worry about. Besides, everyone was wasted that night.”

You hear heavy footsteps cascading the staircase as Yoongi speaks, its obvious that they belong to a focused Namjoon even before he slips into the room. “’Sup guys?”

“Hey Joonie.”

“Hey Hyung.” Yoongi barely takes a breath before continuing to bombard you with reasons to attend tonight. “I’ll tell you what, the second your social meter runs out I’ll give you my room key and you can hide in there all night if you want.”

You fake a sniffle, “You’d give up the chance at some random freshman pussy for me?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, “Just say yes before I change my mind.”

“I would’ve gone anyway but you just kept going.”

“Fuck you.” Yoongi laughs.

“What’s this I hear about pussy?” Taehyung says, bouncing into the kitchen with a suspicious glass of clear liquid in his hand.

Sadly, you’re the one to catch a whiff of his breath as he passes. “Taehyung its not even noon yet what in the holy mother of hell are you doing with that?” You point to the glass, and he smirks.

“Five o’clock somewhere.” He shrugs, sipping generously. “I’m kidding, its sparkling water, here.” He slides it towards you before walking next to Namjoon who’s absorbed into the grilled cheese he’s trying not to burn. You scrunch your eyebrows, lifting the glass and taking an experimental sip. Immediately, you gag as the raw tequila touches your tongue. You jump up and spit it into the nearby sink, drawing laughter from everyone in the room. 

“Sparkling water my ass!”

“I’m sorry, you made it too easy!”

“Fuck!” You turn the tap on, sticking your head underneath to rinse your tongue and gargle water.

Due to your luck, both Jimin and Hoseok walk into the room as you turn the water on and they get to watch as you stand head back and tongue in the wind. “Ah fuck, this situation looks vaguely familiar.” Jimin chuckles, picking up the glass you hastily sipped from. He sniffs it, ripping his head away the second his nose hairs are disintegrated. “Jesus Tae.”

“Oh cmon, I saw an opportunity!”

“You okay?” Jimin slips past the crowd and slowly rubs your back as you wipe your mouth and nod. You catch a glimpse of Yoongi smiling into his orange juice, his eyes suggestive. 

“Hm? Oh yeah, psh, fine…thanks.”

“Want a grilled cheese?”

Yoongi nods furiously, dropping not so subtle hints.

“No; its okay, I think I’m gonna go for a swim. Thirty minute rule…you know.”

“Good call, I guess I should skip the grilled cheese too.”

“What? No!” Your hands land of Jimin’s stomach as you reflexively move to stop him from following. He looks down, confused until you revoke them, “You should eat, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Join me after?”

Jimin grins. “Okay.” He says in short, a smile still on his face even after you’re moving towards the patio. You look over his shoulder one last time to see Yoongi slam his face into the countertop, awash with disappointment. 

The sound of their distant talking fades once you escape to the back patio, however you aren’t alone for long as Yoongi and his orange juice joins you.

“That was painful to watch.” He says, walking towards you.

“Leave me alone pulp boy.” You sulk, sitting on the edge of the pool and putting your feet in the heated water.

“Woah, my pulp never did anything to you.” Yoongi frowns, a short-lived sarcastic feature. He joins you.

You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Ugh, did he say anything after I left?”

“Babe, Jimin’s a guy. The second you left he asked Joon to make him a grilled cheese and snorted a line of pre-workout.” He slurps more of his juice.

“Really?” You look up at him, a worried lip.

Yoongi suddenly feels bad for playing with you’re feelings…but can’t stop himself. Taehyung’s right, you make it too easy. “No, first he looked at your ass.”

“You’re lying.” You swallow, turning red.

Yoongi smiles, suggesting he’s joking. “Thats what you get for insulting my pulp.”

“Asshat.” You grumble, slightly disappointed. You couldn’t help but hope Jimin looked, or at least glanced.

“Cocksleeve.” He gibs back, finishing off his orange juice as you once again lay your head on his shoulder with a smile.

[whirlybirbs]

✶ ┈ PART ONE !

summary: the origins of the whole “let’s pretend to be married so the grandmaster doesn’t kill us while we try to get off this floating junk pile to stop your sister from destroying your home” bit. because it’s about time. pairing: fake!wife reader x loki, set in ragnarok. a/n: all the fake!wife reader and loki stuff? here’s 2k of their origin story.                                                  READ PART TWO HERE.

The first time you meet him, he’s tinkering with Erik Selvig’s self autonomy.

(Erik’s your boss -- a nice guy. You like him. Jane does, too. You’re running quantum decay samples for S.H.I.E.L.D. the day Loki crash lands on Earth. You’d thought you were having a bad enough day… and then the Tesseract went and spat out the resident super-villain who later opened the interdimensional front-door for the Chitauri and proceeded destroyed half of New York city. Talk about a bad day.)

The second time you meet him, you have Jane to thank.

She’s clutching the spectrometer with wide eyes and you realize in that moment, this is a lot like getting a text from an ex, except the text is the equivalent of crashing a party via falling through the roof. The Bifrost, a glittering quantum anomaly, allows for a fold in time and space. Cosmic kick-back ripples around an arrival, alerting the various quantum measuring devices in the office. The energy signature is familiar -- it’s Asgardian.

She’s pacing. You hate when Jane paces. It makes you anxious.

“I’ll go,” you offer up, “I’ll go, check out the anomaly, make sure everything’s alright --”

Jane blinks, running a hand through her hair as she chews her lip. She makes a pained sound -- the one of a woman torn between science and the unplanned visit of an ex boyfriend -- before nodding and shoving the hand-held spectrometer your way. She nods, speaking to try and convince herself:

“You’re right. No, totally. You should go. It wouldn’t be good if I saw him and --”

“Yeah, no, fuck that,” Darcy supplies, “He ditched you for space gems --”

“Infinity Stones.”

“Same shit, different name!” Darcy shrieks, “Listen, I love him but god, he needs to get his priorities in order, Jane --”

You nod, shrugging on your jacket and buttoning it. You tuck the device in your pocket after eyeing the projected address: 177a Bleecker Street.

“It’s just across town,” you chide, “I’ll hop over, check it out and call if it’s something horrible like, uh, I dunno? An alien invasion?”

“Oh goodie.”

Jane looks pale. “Tell him I say hi. Er… Maybe don’t. Don’t. I don’t wanna seem like --”

“I’ll feel it out,” you chirp, waving your hands in a gesture for her to calm down, “If he asks, I’ll tell him you’re great.”

“If he asks about me, tell him I’m still single!” Darcy cries as you close the door behind you.

Normal.

Today had been shaping up to be normal.

You’d left your normal apartment, took a normal train ride, got your normal coffee order from the normal place two blocks from the office. You arrived at your normal time, ready for a normal day at work.

And then, Thor and his brother decided to change the trajectory of your day and, subsequently, life.

Here you are, half past noon, being welcomed into the Sanctum Sanctorum by some neurosurgeon-turned-supreme-wizard to see your co-worker’s Old Norse God of an ex-boyfriend.

(You know Thor. You’ve met countless times now; the first time was at Jane’s birthday part two years ago. The night had ended in Jane calling you an Uber back to your own apartment, only after you’d gotten blackout on rum and cokes, and spent three whole hours trying to lift Thor’s hammer. Mew-mew, Darcy had called it. You woke up the next morning with a sore back.)

You’ve clearly interrupted something because aforementioned God of Thunder is on the floor, looking like he might throw up any second. You peer around the man who answered the door, squinting. “Uh...”

“Can I help you?”

“Doctor!” Thor cries with sheer excitement from his place at the bottom of the stairs. He stands slowly, staggering over and welcoming you into a crushing grip. He hugs you like he had at last year’s Christmas party. There’s no love lost. You laugh, clapping him on the back as he lifts you into the air, “It is wonderful to see you! Wizard man, this is my good friend --”

“Stephen Strange,” he juts out a yellow gloved hand out in greeting. You shake it, “You must be one of Jane Foster’s associates, then.”

Stephen Strange is an odd one. You can’t help but note the ever-so-faint fluttering of his cape. You realize there’s no wind. You opt not to say anything, just smooth down your scarf and shift from one heeled boot to the other as you exchange looks between the wizard and the God. You push your glasses up your nose as you introduce yourself.

“Just doing my usual quantum disturbance welfare checks,” you say as Thor places you down. You wave the hand-held measuring device in your hand, “Someone had to come and make sure it was Thor and not some eight-legged horse looking to stomp all over Times Square.”

Thor grins.

Stephen smirks.

“How is Jane?” Thor asks quietly, his hand gentle on your shoulder, “Well, I hope?”

“Oh, you know,” a soft shrug, giving him a so-so gesture as you wince, “Breakups suck.”

He gets this look on his face -- it’s a mixture of regret and longing and you know Jane’s decision for space has been as much as a blow to him as it was to her. Jane, selfless as always, knew he needed to focus on his current mission more than her. She’d never forgive herself if she kept pulling him from his search for the stones. Thor sighs, clearing his throat as he nods.

“I, uh, I agree,” he speaks softly, “Please, do tell her I wish her well in all her… science endeavors.”

“Of course,” you say with a smile, “Speaking of which… what’s with the drop-in?”

Stephen’s brows raise and he sighs. “He’s looking for his father.”

Your face twists into confusion. “Odin? What, is he, like, missing?”

Thor’s posture shifts then and he rolls his eyes. Annoyance floods the blonde’s shoulders and he shakes his head. His nostrils flare. “Loki dropped him here on Earth.”

You recoil. “Loki…? Isn’t he --”

“Dead? I thought so as well, but no, the snake has been masquerading as my father on Asgard for the last two years,” Thor supplies, “Speaking of which…”

Stephen jumps. “Oh, yeah, right.”

The second time you meet him, he lands at your feet with a loud groan and a bad attitude.

“I have been falling! For thirty minutes!”

You yelp, hand flying over your mouth at the sudden appearance of the man you’d watched on CNN wreak havoc on NYC. He hits the floor with a resounding thud! and looks… less imposing now, flat on the floor with wild black curls flying about. He’s swathed in a well-tailored black suit and you can’t help but think he’s the exact opposite of Thor. The God of Mischief pushes himself upwards, eyes wild with anger.

Thor hides a chuckle at his brother’s expense.

You blink with wide eyes between Strange and Thor, wondering why the hell no one seems to be as off-put as you are.

“Do you just…?” you make the same sort of gesture Stephen had just made to open the portal Loki had fallen out of with a confused look on your face, “Do that normally?”

A shrug.

He turns to Thor then, shaking hands and gesturing once more to sling open another portal.

“I trust you can handle it from here,” Stephen says to Thor, “Good luck.”

This portal, unlike the one Loki had fallen through, overlooks the ocean. You can smells the sea breeze and hear the whisper of tall grass waving in the wind. You feel a bit like you’ve opened a book in the middle of a chapter -- you’re not sure what the hell is going on and before you can ask, Loki is honing in on you like a predator his next meal. He’s standing before you, leering with an angry look that should have probably sent you for the hills.

Instead, you pull another face.

“What is this? A wretched little pest, here to help?”

“Brother --”

“Have we met?” Loki sneers, lip curling as he hisses, “Or do you simply bear resemblance to every other disgusting worm on this planet?”

You push your glasses up again. Suddenly, you’re away of the behavioral tango you’re locked in. It’s like a psychological game of chess. You decide to move your pawn.

“We have, actually,” you chirp with an uncanny amount of unamusement. Thor’s eye twitches behind you, “You tried to blow up my lab station…?  But, uh, I doubt you probably remember that, huh? Yeah, you were, uh, kinda busy terrorizing my boss and half the other staff on call… No, no, I get it. I’ve gotten a haircut since, so --”

“Doctor, please, ignore him --” Thor tries, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, you’re one of Selvig’s wenches then.”

That doesn’t get the rise out of you that Loki had predicted. You frown, hands in your pockets. Your body language is guarded. Loki’s lip twitches.

“That’s an awfully misogynistic thing of you to say.”

There’s a glimpse of a recoil in his eyes at that. He takes a step forward, as if to challenge you -- to which Strange clears his throat. The game is stopped, if only for a moment, and Loki’s anger is redirected towards the wizard with a new-found malice.

“And you must be the second-rate sorcerer --”

You move, hand planted on the chest of the God of Lies as he shoves past you. He steps on your toes then, scuffing your shoes and you groan -- shoving him backwards with an annoyed cry. Thor makes a face, hands moving to try and pull you from the path of his brother.

“Hey, God of being-an-asshole, do you mind?”

“Move, bug, I have a pig to gut --”

“Alright, nope, bye-bye.”

Thor’s too late and you’re thrown through the portal. The ground is yanked out from underneath you like a tablecloth is yanked out from under a tea set. The flick of Strange’s wrists sends you careening into the grass on the other side of the portal. Loki lands, quite literally, on top of you a moment later, knocking the wind out of both of you. He groans, only to be cut off by your hands shoving him off as you try to roll as far away from the trickster as you can. Loki curses, annoyance boiling over --

And then Thor calls his name.

Today is not normal.

Before you can ask how the hell you’re going to get back to your New York office building, you’re painfully aware of the weight of the situation at hand. If someone told you you’d watch the two crown princes reconcile with their father that day, you would have laughed in their faces… Mostly since this is not reconciliation. Loki looks broken at the mention of his mother. Thor is in the midst of trying to work out the possibility of having a sister when Odin flutters to the wind in golden glimmers. There’s an electric threat in the wind.

In Odin’s absence, centuries of anger comes to a head.

You’re there, stepping between the brothers --

“This is your doing --”

“I had no hand in this --”

Hela arrives on the roll of thunder, and you realize quickly that this is all very much above your pay grade.

Normal.

Today had been shaping up to be normal.

And then, you were shoved out of the Bifrost by green gilded hands amidst fleeing the Goddess of Death’s claws -- the last thing you see is a twisted look of shock on Thor’s face as you’re sent careening through rainbow light. The Bifrost shatters around you like ice and you’re sent tumbling through the universe, the weight of the situations terribly apparent as you spin and spin and spin and spin and fall.

The second time you meet Loki, he throws you out of a glimmering quantum anomaly in an attempt to save himself.

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Maybe I Am? - Chpt.2

Characters: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Steve takes a risk and the guys go out on a “date”. Master list HERE

Content Warning: first “date” cuteness, making out 

Word Count: 2.5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Today is one of those days where I am eternally grateful for having a “draft” option. Because honestly, ya girl is exhausted. So yay for drafts! Enjoy chapter two. I’m honestly too tired to give ya’ll a better note right now. :-\   XOXO - Ash

Chapter Two

Steeeeve [9:32:08PM]: Hey, it’s Steve.

Bucky Barnes [9:32:47PM]: hi steve

Steeeeve [9:33:15PM]: I had a lot of fun meeting up today.

Bucky Barnes [9:33:39PM]: me 2

Steve huffed staring at Bucky’s second generic response. He was usually so much more lively. Steve took a long sigh and started texting what he needed to get off his chest.

Steeeeve [9:35:21PM]: I’m sorry if I came off as confused or misleading. 

Steeeeve [9:35:26PM]: I didn’t mean to do that. But I am kind of confused right now. 

Steeeeve [9:35:35PM]: I spent so much time liking the idea of you, and you in real life was even more amazing than I could have expected. But I’ve never dated a guy before and I never expected to want to. And now I think I do. 

Steeeeve [9:35:49PM]: I’m sorry. This probably isn’t any less confusing. I’m apparently really bad at this lol. I guess what I’m trying to say is, will you go out on a maybe-date with me? I want to try and see how I feel. I don’t want to string you on, but I want to try.

Bucky stared at the flurry of texts coming into his phone. Damn, serial texter much? He read and re-read Steve texts a few times, chewing nervously his bottom lip, trying to find a response. He wasn’t willing to let his heart get trample on again, not after Brock. But he really liked Steve and if there was a chance Steve might like him too, it was too good to pass up. He had a distinct feeling he was going to regret it, but he tapped out the only honest response he could think of.

Bucky Barnes [9:44:13PM]: i like u 2 steve. i get that ur confused. lets try ur maybe-date and see how it goes? if it goes well cool, if not no hard feelings. k?

Steeeeve [9:45:20PM]: Thank you. Really, thank you for being so great about this. Can we get dinner one night this week? 

Bucky Barnes [9:45:55PM]: im free any nite but tues

Steeeeve [9:46:10PM]: I can do Friday night around 7. There’s a really great Mexican place a few blocks over from the gym if you’re willing to schelp all the way over to Park Slope. 

Bucky Barnes [9:46:31PM]: sounds good. see u then

Bucky sighed, putting his phone away into the pocket of his favorite old hoodie. He had a date. A maybe-date, but for some reason that felt good enough for him at the moment.

xxXxx

Steve discovered the best part of being able to text Bucky wasn’t just that their chatting was no longer limited to when they were both near a computer, but that they now had a full range of emojis, memes, and GIFs at their disposal. He could now send Bucky random funny things he found during the day and he felt a little proud when Bucky would send back a string of laughing emojis, knowing he had brightened the other man’s day a little. He had worried with their maybe-date looming things might be a little awkward but if anything they were going even better. By the time Friday came Steve was genuinely looking forward to their maybe-date. He had even gone out on Wednesday before his shift at the gym to pick up a set of clothes that were distinctly not gym wear. He couldn’t remember the last time he bought a button up shirt but he had to admit the blue and white checked shirt looked nice on him. He was trying not to stress over the maybe-date but he felt this gnawing need to know, definitively, if he was truly interested in Bucky, or just the fantasy of WinterBae. 

Steve raced home Friday to shower and change, hoping he’d left himself enough time to do all that and still make it over to Los Aztecas in time. Taking the time to slick back his hair and do a quick shave, Steve was hustling out the door only to realize he’d forgotten the bottle of wine once he got outside. After a fast double back for the wine he was on his way, making it to the tiny authentic Mexican restaurant with three minutes to spare. He had barely stopped walking when he saw Bucky hopping out of an uber. Steve felt a little flutter at the sight of Bucky and he took it as a good sign. 

Bucky looked amazing in his dark skinny jeans and a silky looking black shirt. A minimalist necklace was around his throat, the simple bar resting just below the wings of his collarbones. Steve noticed Bucky had swapped out the cheery beaded bracelets he’d worn on Sunday for a set of sleek silver and leather ones. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine and Steve felt ridiculous in what Sam had teased was his bible salesman outfit. 

“Heya.” Bucky greeted warmly, extending an arm for a half hug.

“Hey,” Steve echoed, hugging back with his free hand. “Ready for the best Mexican food of your life?” 

“Definitely, let’s go.” 

Steve led Bucky inside the little restaurant, its cozy decor making the place feel intimate instead of cramped. Steve had called ahead for reservations so they were whisked off to a table as soon as he gave the concierge his name. Bucky was looking around fascinated, taking in all the colorful decorations. 

“It’s really something, huh?” Steve prompted with a smile.

Bucky nodded in agreement, “Yeah, it’s beautiful. So much art packed into so little space. Thanks for bringing me here, Steve.” 

“It’s one of my favorite places in the area, mostly for the tacos but also for the art. I got my degree in fine art before I switched gears and went back to get certified in exercise science.” 

“That’s quite a switch.” Bucky laughed.

“Art will always be my first love, but it’s not exactly profitable. And once I got healthier I knew I wanted to help other people do the same. I was really sick as a kid and didn’t hit any major growth spurts until I was almost 21. After that, I worked out a lot getting used to my new body and fell in love with the gym.” 

“Wow. I’m glad you were able to get healthier, and it’s sweet you’re trying to give back to others with that.” 

“Do you go to a gym? I won’t be offended that it’s a competitor, I swear.”  

Bucky barked out a laugh, “No. God, no. I am perfectly happy with not having abs or a totally flat stomach as long as waffles exist.” 

Steve couldn’t help his eyes dropping to Bucky’s stomach which honestly couldn’t have had more than the smallest layer of padding across it. “That’s okay too. Waffles are pretty great.” 

The waitress stopped by to uncork their wine and drop off a basket of fresh tortilla chips and salsa verde. 

“What did you bring?” Bucky asked as he took the glass of white wine Steve had poured him.

“Albariño. A waitress here recommended it a few years ago and now it’s my go to. It’s light and crisp, and kinda citrusy? I’m not a wine snob but it’s damn good and goes really well with tacos. I hope you like white wine, I forgot to ask.” 

“I’ve yet to meet a white wine I didn’t like, so you’re safe.” Bucky sipped the wine and his eyes lit up, “Oh yeah, this is good. I’ll be hunting this down next time I go shopping.” 

“You can get it over at the little wine boutique near the farmers market in Sunset Park. They always have this kind.”

“Nice, I’ll have to check it out. My sister will love this the next time she visits.” 

The conversation flowed as the basket of tortilla chips disappeared, only ebbing when their platters arrived and they tucked into their food. Steve had ordered his usual taco platter while Bucky opted for the taquitos platter, an assortment of slow roasted meats wrapped in thin crispy shells. He let out a groan at his first bite that had Steve’s heart stuttering in his chest. The maybe-date had mostly felt like a friend-date up until that point, though Steve had to admit there was a tiny flutter of like there too. But the noise Bucky made and the expression on his face had Steve thinking anything but friends only thoughts. 

Bucky caught Steve staring at him as he licked a dribble of sauce off his bottom lip. He hadn’t gotten a distinct date-date vibe from Steve but the look on the blonde’s face was priceless. Bucky thought he probably had made a similar one the first time he saw Devon Sawa in Wild America when he was 12. He had never stood a chance of being straight after that. Testing the waters a little bit, Bucky smirked at Steve, making it abundantly clear he’d been caught staring. Steve flushed and Bucky’s smile widened. There might be hope after all.

Steve wasn’t sure if it was the wine or too many tacos but by the time dinner was over he felt glued to his seat. He hated knowing the evening was coming to an end and wanted to do something, anything, to prolong it. The waitress dropped off the sales receipt with a pen and Steve tried to steady his hand as he signed his name. He knew he needed to muster up his courage or he would be saying goodbye to Bucky in mere minutes.

“Thanks again for paying.” Bucky said after draining the last of his wine, “This was really nice.” 

“It was.” Steve agreed, seeing his chance, “You know, I have another bottle of this wine back at my place if you wanna come over for a bit. Maybe you could help me find that movie app you were telling me about for the Fire Stick?”

“Sure, I’m happy to help. I won’t say no to more of that wine either.” Bucky stamped down the hopeful cheering in his chest that Steve was inviting him over. The poor guy probably didn’t mean that anything would happen other than wine and tech help but Bucky could always dream. He would be respectful though, he resolved to himself. He’d never dated a guy who was questioning his sexuality before and Bucky didn’t want to push too far too soon. Bucky figured it was best to let Steve set the pace and just hope his heart didn’t get run over in the process. 

Steve’s apartment was only four blocks from the restaurant, a second floor walk up in an old converted brownstone. It was nicer than Bucky’s little hole in the wall apartment and even had a small second bedroom that Steve had set up as a home office. After giving Bucky a quick tour, he led them to the kitchen to pull another bottle of Albariño out of his cabinet. Passing a stemless glass to Bucky, he poured them both a generous amount of wine which they carried out to the living room so Bucky could show Steve the app he’d mentioned during dinner. A few clicks and a quick download later, Steve had access to a ridiculous amount of free movies. 

“This is so great.” Steve praised, clicking through the different options. “Oh I love this one!”

“Hm?” Bucky looked up from his glass to see Steve hovering over 10 Things I Hate About You. “Oh that one is great. I remember wanting to be Patrick Verona when I grew up after seeing that.” 

Steve gave an amused side eyed look at Bucky. “I think you did a decent job.” he teased, throwing on the movie out of sheer impulse.

Bucky laughed, “You’re sweet. But god knows I’ll never be that smooth.” 

“You’re better off than me. I’ve been told I’m hopeless on more than one occasion.” 

“You hold your own, Rogers.” Bucky assured him, reaching over to take Steve’s hand in his, stroking the pad of his thumb over the ridges of Steve’s knuckles. 

Steve blinked slowly, looking from their joined hands up to Bucky’s face. It felt good, that fluttery feeling stirring in his gut at the contact. He gave Bucky a smile and squeezed his hand gently, making sure his consent was clear.

The movie rolled and they sipped their wine as Patrick did his best to woo Kat. Bucky slowly nudged closer to Steve until he was pressed against his side, his head leaning against Steve’s shoulder. He was warm and comfortable and completely unwilling to move by the time Letters to Cleo played into the credits. 

“I can’t believe it’s after eleven already.” Steve yawned. 

Bucky yawned next, set off by Steve’s. “Same. I had a really good night, Steve.” He looked up curiously, wondering if Steve had found any new revelations on their maybe-date. 

“Me too. This was… really nice. Hey, um, I know this was a maybe-date, but maybe um…”

Bucky shifted so he could sit up taller and face Steve while he fumbled for words.

“I, um, I’d really like to kiss you right now.” Steve blurted out, looking equal parts excited and terrified. 

Bucky’s smile was like the sun. “Okay, yeah.” Bucky reached out to cup Steve’s cheek, going agonizingly slow to give Steve a chance to bolt if he needed it. He leaned up a little and Steve craned his neck down, tentatively meeting Bucky’s lips with his own. 

A soft press, a pause, another soft press, and then the kiss deepened, Bucky’s lips parting to slot Steve’s with his. Steve let out a choked off moan, unable to believe what he was doing and how good it felt. He let a hand rake through Bucky’s hair and it only made him want to feel more of the silky locks. The scent of cedar and teak from his cologne filled Steve’s nose and though it was very distinctly male, Steve couldn’t get enough of it. It was so much more than he could have expected but also not nearly enough. He was breathing raggedly when he finally pulled back, repressing a shudder at the well kissed expression on Bucky’s face. His full bottom lip was shining and red, his eyes heavy lidded and his chest heaving just as much as Steve’s. 

“Whoa.” Steve finally breathed out in amazement.

“Yeah, whoa.” Bucky agreed. “So does this help in sorting out if this was a date-date?”

“I think it was definitely a date-date.” 

“I’m glad. And do you think you’d want to try another date sometime?”

“When are you free next?” Steve chuckled, only half kidding. 

“Easy there, pal.” Bucky warned lightly, patting Steve’s ridiculously broad chest. “We’ll find a day again soon.” 

Steve nodded, knowing Bucky was right for wanting to take things slow. He led Bucky over to the door, giving him one last quick kiss goodbye before the brunette headed out into the early summer night. Steve was still floored by his own reactions to Bucky but it felt so right that he couldn’t agonize over it for long.