#not sure if i should tag the artist in this situation so
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i really just do not trust makeship. i feel like people should think more about where their merch is physically being made before hopping on a bandwagon, ESPECIALLY for something as complex and labor-intensive as limited run plushies.
makeship talks a lot about how much they take care of their artists and design/logistics team, but has nothing about their manufacturers on their website. all of their employees are remote, which is something they brag about on their site, so i'm certain they outsource the actual plush creation. given their prices and what i know about plush manufacturing, i don't have much faith that the people actually making the plushies are paid/treated well.
#jabberwockies#makeship#...not sure if i should put this in the tag but. i rly think a lot of people just don't think about it#rather than ignore it out of malice#so maybe this will like. do something#i don't want to be a downer and i'm not judging anyone who's participated in their campaigns in the past#but as an artist and also an amateur plush maker i think the QOL of people is way more important than having a plushie#no matter how unique and personal#also if you have more info i'm happy to hear it. it's just a real hmmmm situation to me#bc even places like mysterious (plushie dreadfuls) make a vague note of where their plushies are made and how the workers are treated#idk man. i hate capitalism
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At long last: either an alternate explanation for or continuation of my prior comic regarding how Bill was ABSOLUTELY naked in Ford's karaoke night drawing. (Because errors in art do not exist. Artists do not make mistakes. So if you see any in this comic, No You Do Not.)
I am so normal about these old dorks.
I'm not really clear on exactly when Bill started throwing his desperation book at Ford just like a needy ex do, but I find it extremely funny to imagine it happening literally the day of or after the makeshift funeral. Bill just gets this weird sense of 'Ford is taking steps to move on' and CANNOT FUCKING ABIDE.
I hope you enjoy all the goofy things I added to each page of Bill's sad spieling. (Everything SHOULD be readable so long as you view the full size, but I have added basically this whole little fanfic in the image descriptions, LMAO, which lays out all the little written notes and such.) Also don't ask how Bill managed to sneak that vampire pen in there. I have no idea, and honestly? I don't wanna know.
Oh, and a little bonus comic:
Of course Bill would take it as flirting. Because between the two of them, Bill is the bigger masochist By Far. :)
Also I have continued applying The Good Place logic to any of Bill's attempts to swear. Case in point, one last bonus image, this time with a motivational line from my slapdash Theraprism OC, EV-01:
Yes, its name is just 'love' backwards. No, I will not be taking any feedback on this. Yes, EV-01 was only ever assigned to Bill's case due to the Theraprism being desperate to make some progress in rehabilitating him. No, it did not work anywhere close to staff's expectations - Bill didn't even appreciate EV-01's matching fondness for bowties! (He claimed the fondness to be "cultural appropriation" and insisted he'd been traumatized by it.)
Anyway, if you like my stuff, reblogs are very much appreciated, and if you really really like it, perhaps consider my commissions or yeeting a teeny tiny tip my way? I am trying to recoup over 500 dollars in vet bills, ahaha... 🙃
In other news, I loved all the fun tags people added to the prior naked-karaoke comic (such as 'the hat and bow-tie stay ON during sex' and the classic '[insert keysmash here]', as well as the many amused/bewildered remarks about how I either made the bricks a piece of clothing or just straight up peeled Bill's skin off). However, I think my favorite thing by far was the several people losing their shit over the fact that I gave Bill toes. Like, excuse me? The magical talking triangle can have fingers but not toes??? Since when was that a rule????? 🤣 (Also the one person who reblogged with the cropped panel where Bill's fishnets pants are falling off to ask why Bill peed himself. Dude, I want to examine your brain...?)
Okie-dokie, I'm sick of looking at all of this stuff now and I'm off to go to work, after which I will either scribble some more goofy "Billford" comics or perhaps draw my lame human!Bill in Situations, idk yet. Maybe I'll even finally draw more than just a single other person's human!Bill...? Who knows, but I sure hope I can mix it up a little and not turn whatever I draw into a month-long fukken project. >:\
#fanart#gravity falls#billford#bill cipher#stanford pines#the book of bill#comics#i can't believe gravity falls and billford keep on trending almost three full months after the book of bill's release#this is incredible#maybe i will add more tags later idk#i have to go to WORK now blehhhhhh#oh right: Do Not Repost (good luck anyway lol. this is So Many images and all of them are Big XD)
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Training My Daughter
Seol YoonA (Sullyoon), Minatozaki Sana x Male Reader
Part 2 of 4 of All In Family
Tags: alternative universe, assgasms, belly bulging, choking, daddy kink, deepthroating, dirty talking, facesitting, facefucking, finger-fucking, floor sex, leg-locking 69, mating press, messy and sweaty, mother and daughter, multiple creampies, plot twist, rimming, (very) rough sex, (lots of) spanking, squirting, star wars
Word count: 8027.
Sullyoon is one of Dankook University's most popular students. Yesterday, she celebrated her 21st birthday with a crazy party involving members of her sorority and the neighboring fraternity.
However, although she's getting increasingly popular, she still has a way to go before catching her mother.

"SANA, SANA, CAN YOU PLEASE GIVE ME AN AUTOGRAPH?" a university student screams as Sullyoon's mother slowly climbs out of the passenger's seat of a very luxurious car. As soon as Sana walks in her daughter's direction, the campus becomes a Twice fan meet, with many students rushing for the unique opportunity to meet Sullyoon's celebrity mother. Even though many years have passed since her idol career ended, lots are still aware of her viral moves like the iconic "shy shy, shy".
Despite the massive crowd, Sana displays the professionalism she's well known for, while never losing sight of her daughter either. After a few selcas and autographs for some lucky students, she picks up Sullyoon as the two climb into the car and head home.
Sana starts asking questions about Sullyoon regarding her on-campus birthday party. The two chat a lot as Sana is really happy about her daughter being able to go to one of the top colleges in Korea after all her hard work as an once young girl who came from Japan in search of her dreams and became one of the biggest foreign celebrities of Korea in the process. But after a while, the spiciest questions finally arrive.
"How many guys have you fucked in that party, YoonA?" Sana asks her daughter. "T-two," Sullyoon answers, hesitating to tell her mother. But Sana knows she is lying.
"It was at least double that, right, YoonA?" Sana asks again. "Yes, Mother," Sullyoon answers sincerely. "And how are you feeling about that?" Sana keeps launching questions. "A bit sore," Sullyoon answers.
"Looks like you need some training, YoonA. Taking on that many guys at once can be a challenge. I may be shy about lots of things, but sex was never one of them, you know you can always ask me for advice, right?" Sana asks. "Sure," Sullyoon responds, blushing a bit.
"Do you want me to train you for those occasions? I know a guy that will be perfect for you to handle those situations. Should I call him, YoonA?" Sana tells her daughter. "It's your call, Mother, I'll do it as you please," Sullyoon answers.
"Alright, let's head home and prepare ourselves," Sana tells her daughter they dress themselves in very casual clothes that expose their midriffs, Sana taking a top plus Yoga pants while Sullyoon dresses herself in an undersized t-shirt and booty shorts. "Your tummy is so beautiful YoonA, I envy it so much," Sana says. "Thanks, Mom," Sullyoon says as her face turns red again. Both of them are wearing high heels, as Sana gives Sullyoon the first lesson. "The heels always stay on, YoonA," she tells her daughter.
Sana arrives at your house, greeting you with kisses. "Meet my daughter, YoonA," Sana presents Sullyoon to you. "Wow, she's beautiful, but knowing her mother, that's no surprise," you say.
Sana smiles as she enters your living room, full of sculptures and paintings with sexual undertones. She stops right by one that depicts a nude woman and her curves. "That's your mother too," you tell Sullyoon, pointing at the painting. "It's called 'The Perfect Woman', the artist drew its inspiration from Sana and later gave it to me," you say.
"But let's get to the point, every time your mother comes to me, I know she's looking for sex. We know each other since before you were born and that's always been the case," you tell Sullyoon. "Are you excited to be part of a mother-daughter threesome, YoonA?" you ask the young girl.
"Yeah," Sullyoon answers, still a little shy. "Then let's start, I want to worship this beautiful body, I can see you've got the perfect genetics from your mother," you tell her. "Well, she's taller and bulkier, she's got the beauty from myself, but the strength from her father," Sana says, grabbing her daughter's ass.
"Sana, can you show me your ass too?" you ask her as she turns around and displays her nice backside covered by her yoga pants. Sullyoon's cheeks on the other hand already have her cheeks fully in the open. "Damn, your daughter got a great ass," you tell Sana.
"My mother said you are very rough fucking girls, is that true?" Sullyoon asks. "Well, there is a difference, I'm not like the guys at your birthday party yesterday that you had and Sana told me about, who are rough but don't know what they are doing. I'm different, I'm rough in a way that makes girls push themselves to the edge," you say.
"Alright girls, enough of talking and let's start fucking," you tell them as you immediately pull Sana's top down, displaying her beautiful erect nipples. Sana smiles as you put your mouth in her perky tits and suck them in front of her daughter.
"Your turn, YoonA," you say as Sullyoon pushes her top up and lets you suck her tits next. "They are so cute," you say as you press them. You quickly start showing up your credentials, pinching Sullyoon's tits and giving a little tap to her legs that make her let out her first moans. Sana just watches, letting you handle her daughter all by yourself.
"She's so sexy," you say about Sullyoon as you start choking her. "Turn around, let me see that ass," you order as Sullyoon obliges. "Damn, it's really plump," you say, praising her backside. Quickly, you pull her shorts down, unveiling Sullyoon's white panties under it, which are quickly gone in seconds too.
"Damn, she's got a really meaty pussy, are you sure she's your daughter, Sana? Because yours isn't meaty like this," you say, quickly diving to eat it. "Hmmm, so tasty," you say, diving your face between Sullyoon's ass cheeks. "Beautiful ass, meaty pussy, pretty face, damn, Sana, your daughter is a full-course meal," you say, pleasing Sullyoon's meaty cunt and making her moan again.
Sullyoon shows you she's not so innocent, grabbing your head and pushing it against her fuckholes. "Does my daughter taste good?" Sana asks, taking the initiative herself and grabbing your head as well. "Oh, she tastes amazing, just like her mother," you say.
"How about you, Sana, are you gonna let me taste that delicious ass?" you ask her as you push Sana in your direction and pull her pants down in one go. "First lesson, YoonA, horny sluts like your mother don't wear panties when they are horny," you tell Sullyoon.
You spread Sana's ass and dive right on her folds, licking her delicious asshole and her pink pussy. "YoonA, your mother must have the most beautiful and flexible asshole ever, I fucked it countless times and it always goes back to this tight, small hole every time," you tell Sullyoon as you tongue Sana's anus.
"Open that asshole for me, YoonA," you command as Sullyoon spreads her mother's ass. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, you lick my ass so good" Sana moans as you tongue her strawberry-flavored butthole.
But you were far from done, lifting Sana as she clings herself to her daughter while you lick her ass with her up in the air. "Shake that ass in my face, slut," you tell her. Sana does it perfectly even though she's way up in the air, even reaching her legs to caress your clothed cock while Sullyoon kisses her mother's perky tits and jerks herself off to the scene.
"Your mother is such a great slut, YoonA, she lets me do anything I want to her, I hope you're like this too," you say to Sullyoon as you eat Sana's pussy with her body lifted. Sana takes things up a notch, showing she's no slouch and hitting your face with her ass while you try to eat her out. "Damn I didn't think my mother was this crazy," Sullyoon thinks in her head.
You kiss and worship Sana's pussy as you slowly bring her back to the ground. "Best pussy in the world, if yours is half as good, we are in for a treat," you say to Sullyoon.
"Come here, YoonA, worship your mother's pussy, it's where you came from after all," you tell Sullyoon, grabbing her head and shoving it against Sana's perfect cunt. Sullyoon's skill impresses Sana. "Wow, she's very good at that," she says. Needless to say, Sullyoon has been training to lick pussies in her sorority since she joined it, so, of course, she's already well-versed in the art of coochie eating.
You kiss Sana and worship her body while Sullyoon remains glued to her mother's pussy. "Wanna suck my dick, horny bitch?" you ask her, taking your clothes off and displaying your muscular body and your cock. "Yes, I do," Sana enthusiastically answers.
Sana gets on her knees and sucks her favorite big fat cock. "Looks like you already trained your daughter to be nasty, my job will be really easy then," you tell her as you start sensing Sullyoon's tongue rimming your asshole. You grab Sana's head, fucking her face and watching her choke on your cock, the only guy that can truly tame that crazy slut.
Sana worships your balls but you quickly stop her and pound her face, the move of your hips sweeping your ass all over Sullyoon's face. You quickly grab both girls' heads and push them against your both, making them choke all over your cock and anus. "Come on, you nasty bitches, show me how much you want it," you tell them as Sana and Sullyoon's faces turn red.
"Push that dick deep in your throat," you tell Sana, bending her over and spanking her ass before manhandling her throat until she gags again. "You nasty Japanese bitch," you say to her as saliva drips out of her chin and you slap your cock in her face while Sana gives you a radiant smile. "I know you like that, I know you go crazy when I'm your nasty bitch," she tells you, deepthroating your cock shortly after.
"Your mother is a tough bitch to tame, YoonA, but she always falls on her knees for me," you tell Sullyoon as you go really rough on Sana, fucking her face like a fleshlight while turning her ass cheeks red with countless spanks. "You should have a safe word for those occasions, YoonA, I know not every girl is as tough and slutty as your mother," you instruct Sullyoon as you destroy Sana's mouth with all your might, her asshole winking at every thrust you give her.
"Look at your mother's asshole, so beautiful and small," you tell Sullyoon. "Can't deny I would love to fuck that but today your mother said it was going to be all about pussy and I'll respect her," you continued as Sana jerks your cock and spit on it before you shove it back in her face balls deep and put her back in her place.
"Come here, YoonA, now you're gonna watch your mother get fucked like a proper slut," you say as Sana bends over and you start pushing your cock in her pussy. Like every single time, you struggle to fit your thick meat in her tight, very small entrance, needing to make a big effort just to push it inside her. "Oh my Gosh, oh fuck," Sana moaned as your cock shaped her walls like a sculptor shapes his work of art.
"AHHHHHHH," Sana screamed as you quickly switched pace, her hair getting messy and falling all over her face while her cheeks got clapped from behind. You grabbed her slim waist, using all the support you needed to drill her pussy. Sullyoon had flashbacks of some guys doing the same at her party and fucking her from behind, but this looked far more intense, as Sana just closed her eyes and took your cock deep in her pussy repeatedly.
"OH MY GODDDDD," Sana yelled as her pussy got completely rag-dolled. Sullyoon was in awe, watching her mother get completely obliterated in a way she had never seen before, your thrusts at very high speeds clapping her cheeks as you and Sana looked at the painting she inspired, you more convinced than ever she was truly the perfect woman, or, better yet, the perfect fuckdoll for you to freely use.
"Fuck, that fucking dick is so big in my pussy," Sana says as she starts getting wetter and wetter down low. Sullyoon is hyper-fixated, amazed as she looks right at her mom's tight pussy being stretched out at an insane pace, your full nine inches going in and out of it like a piston. But what would come next would surprise her even more.
You give Sana's ass a big spank, which triggers a reaction that shocks the cute Sullyoon. Suddenly, despite being drilled like crazy, her mother fights back, moving her hips in the direction of your shaft and taking control, hitting her cheeks right against your muscular belly. "OH FUCK," Sana screams with a very angry voice, ready to unleash her slutty self to the fullest.
"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Sana repeats endlessly as she keeps moving her hips like crazy, turning you into a passenger of her insanity. Sullyoon smiles as both of you fuck like animals now, as you grab Sana's hair and try to tame her, spanking her butt countless times and answering her moves. "YEEHAW," you say, pulling her hair with one hand as if she was your pony toy, while your other hand takes care of spanking her ass and grabbing her waist. "Holy fuck, I want this for me," Sullyoon thinks.
"OHHHHH, OHHHHHH, OHHHHH," Sana screams, clinging to a handrail as you freely use her body, moving it at your will with violent thrusts deep in her tight cunt that make her cheeks clap. Sana answers it, moving her hips even more frenetically. Sullyoon is baffled at what she's watching, her mother getting plowed like the good slut she is.
"Look at me licking my squirt, YoonA, I'm such a greedy whore," Sana tells her daughter as you briefly pull out of her and let her bend herself over on all fours. But not for long, as soon as Sana drops to taste her juices from the floor, you mount on top of her and quickly go back to plow her pink pussy relentlessly, your balls smashing hard against her clit.
"OH MY GOD, FUCK, THIS DICK IS SO DEEP IN ME, DADDY, HOLY SHIT" Sana screams as you keep drilling her pussy in front of her daughter. Sullyoon fingers her pussy, getting heavily turned on as she watches her mother lower her head to the floor while you stomp on it. "Taste that pussy," Sullyoon says as she starts squirting on the floor, Sana moving her immobilized head to reach for her daughter's juices.
"Kiss your mother's ass," you order to Sullyoon as you finish pounding Sana, giving her pale butt a few spanks. Sullyoon obliges, going further and licking Sana's butthole. "I said kiss her ass, not lick her asshole," you tell Sullyoon, spanking the disobedient vixen's face. "Harder," Sullyoon begs as you hit her face before she dives back to lick Sana's strawberry-flavored anus again.
"Are you sure you want it harder?" you ask Sullyoon, spanking her again. "Yes, Daddy, I want to be your cockslut, just like my mother," she tells you as you choke her and spank her whole body, especially her fat ass, making the young slut moan. Sana just watches, still recovering from the pounding you delivered to her as you push your face to eat Sullyoon's ass. "Get your fucking face in there," the young slut demands, pushing it against her body as she starts shaking her ass.
"Damn, YoonA, you're so fucking dirty," Sana says as she watches her daughter go full slutty and gives Sullyoon a big smile. You bring both girls side by side, taking turns kissing and worshipping their perfect pussies. Sullyoon is so excited she grabs your head and pushes it against her cunt, before moving it towards her mother's slit, doing it back and forth.
You choke Sana and give her face a few hits. "You're such a nasty whore, you said your daughter needed training but she's a big slut just like her mother," you tell her as Sana smiles. "Now I'm gonna teach her a lesson," you tell Sana.
You put Sullyoon on all fours on the floor as your cock invades her meaty cunt. You start plowing her a little slower than Sana, Sullyoon gleefully moaning as your cock hits deep in her wet pussy. "It's so big, fuck," she moans as you steadily fuck her, your hips hitting Sullyoon's fat ass nonstop. "Oh yeah," Sullyoon moans and ducks her head down, closing her eyes trying to cope with the heat you put in her pussy.
"OHHHH SHIT," Sullyoon lets out her first scream while Sana comes in, you sucking her tits while pounding her daughter. "Are you gonna destroy her pussy in front of me?" she asks as you keep moving your hips and sucking Sana's tits. "OH FUCK," Sullyoon screams as you hit her cervix. "You're gonna make me cum so fucking good, fuck me harder, daddy" she then begs, getting her ass hit in response.
"Can you make me squirt all over my daughter's body?" Sana asks. You promptly follow, reach to finger her cunt as her juices drop all over Sullyoon's back. "Harder, Daddy, harder," Sullyoon keeps begging. You put Sana's high heels on her daughter's back as you make Sana rain all over her daughter's back and pick up the speed. "YEAH, LIKE THAT," Sullyoon screams as she gets showered with squirts and pounded like a slut.
"Please, Daddy, don't stop, I'm gonna cum, don't stop," Sullyoon says as her face starts turning red. You grab her waist and push further deep into her pussy, Sullyoon 's long legs shaking. "Give it to me Daddy, don't stop, I'm so close, fucking take it, please," she begs as she creams all over your cock before you handle the duties to her mother. "You're such a pathetic slut, look at you," Sana says as she disciplines her daughter.
"SPIT IN MY FUCKING MOUTH," Sullyoon begs her mother as Sana follows. "I saw how hungry you were for that dick, you want more?" Sana asks. "Yes, I want more, please," she says. "Then spit on my hand," Sana orders. "Yes, rub it on my face," Sullyoon begs. "Don't be so greedy, YoonA," Sana answers as she does it.
"OH YESSSS," Sullyoon screams as you let her and Sana play with each other a little. Sullyoon sucks her mother's tits and dives into her pink pussy. "I wanna taste it, it's the best-flavored pussy I've ever seen," Sullyoon says. You just masturbate to the scene, watching this lovely affair between mother and daughter as you slap your cock in Sana's greedy face and she licks your balls.
"Rub those sweaty balls all over my face," Sana tells you as Sullyoon moves to watch as Sana worships your big cock. Soon, you turn your attention back to Sullyoon. "Looks like she's hungry for that cock too," Sana says as you hit YoonA's pretty face again. Sana laughs as she watches her daughter get spanked multiple times all over her body.
"AHHHH, YEAH," Sullyoon moans as you keep hitting her ass, before going back to mount on top of her. "FUCK, YES, AHHHHH," she screams. "Open your legs," you tell Sullyoon, pounding her much harder than before. "YES, DADDY," she screams.
But you have different plans, fully committed to humiliating that young slut, quickly pulling out and sitting on her face. "Lick my dirty ass," you tell her as you and Sana team up on Sullyoon, you getting rimmed while Sana eats her daughter's pussy, Sullyoon barely able to breathe as you suffocate her with your ass and Sana bends over to suck your cock.
"Your fucking ass tastes so good all over my face, so fucking sweaty," Sullyoon says while Sana chokes on your cock. You put your feet in Sullyoon's mouth, putting the young vixen in a fully submissive position. "She loves my feet like her mother loves my dick," you say as you spit on Sana's sweaty face while she rubs her face on your cock.
"No wonder YoonA already knows so much, look at the fucking slut that her mother is," you tell Sana, hitting her face. "Yes, I'm a fucking slut for this big fucking dick," Sana answers as she hits back, you two trading kisses, chokes, and spanks on top of Sullyoon's body. You then grope Sana's tits and suck them while she jerks your cock off, Sullyoon moaning and tasting your feet.
"Sit on my dick," you order Sana, who is promptly ready, opening her legs and descending that big pole with ease. "Oh my Gosh, holy shit," Sana moans as she bounces on your cock under Sullyoon's watch, impressed with how fast her mother moves her hips and fingers herself while getting impaled by your massive meat.
"OH MY GOD, THAT FUCKING DICK FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD," Sana moans just as Sullyoon spits in her mother's pussy. She looks at her mother with naughty eyes, pondering how can she be such a good cock rider, as Sana's cheeks clap against your crotch nonstop, her legs fully open as she bounces so fast your cock pops out of her pussy a few times, but quickly putting it back on. "YOUR FUCKING DICK HITS SO FUCKING DEEP," she moans.
"You're stretching her pussy out so good, Daddy," Sullyoon says as she watches your cock go balls deep in Sana's cunt. You start pounding Sana from up top, the Japanese slut holding herself against the wall to not lose balance as her insides get drilled. "OH YEAH, YEAH," she moans.
"Let me taste that fucking cock," Sullyoon begs as she pulls it out of Sana's pussy, ready to suck all her mother's juices. "Hmm I can smell it," Sullyoon says as she sniffs your cock while you share kisses with Sana, deepthroating it to the fullest. "I wanna gag on it so bad," Sullyoon says. "Throat this dick, learn from your mother," you tell her, as Sana helps Sullyoon engulf your cock balls deep.
"Hold your breath and take it all the way deep," Sana instructs Sullyoon as her daughter tries to take your full nine inches plus your balls in her throat. Sullyoon gags multiple times but keeps pushing anyway. "Spit all over his dirty fucking dick," Sana says, pushing her daughter's head against your pole. "Make it fucking bulge on your throat, dive your slutty face on that dick," Sana keeps instructing, Sullyoon making gagging sounds and losing her breath.
"Let me teach you," Sana says as she grabs your cock to herself, quickly bobbing her head hard on it as she pushes deeper and deeper with ease. "It's so fucking sexy watching you choke on that dick, Mom," Sullyoon says as Sana stays focused, taking your length down her mouth, all the way down to your balls. "Give it to me," Sullyoon begs as she lets her mother spit on her face afterward.
"I love this so much," you say as you watch mother and daughter duel like two nasty sluts for your cock. When Sana takes her next turn, you decided to show Sullyoon how far you can push the limits with her mother, locking Sana's small face between your legs and making her choke on your dick, Sullyoon enjoying the graphic image of her mother's beautiful face turned into a mess as she gags on your cock.
"Oh my God, one day I promise I'll be as much of a slut as my mother," Sullyoon tells you as she watches Sana's face get pancaked between your strong legs and your big cock, getting behind her as both of your team up to eat Sana's pussy, the Japanese slut almost puking in your cock with the pressure it exerts in her naughty throat, Sana not looking like a mess, her hair completely ruined as she still manages to take that cock in her mouth all the way deep.
"Are you getting it wet for me, mom?" Sullyoon asks Sana, spitting on her face as you unlock her. Sana is so cock drunk she doesn't want to let it go, but Sullyoon is ready to add her spit to it, both girls now fighting for every inch of your cock, Sana taking your balls while Sullyoon impales her mouth on your shaft. "Oh my God," Sana says with a smile as she watches her daughter tries to match her sluttiness.
"You feel so good down there taking care of our little holes," Sana says as you take turns licking both their pussies and anuses. You then climb back on top, fingering Sana's butthole. "Look how tight your mother is," you tell Sullyoon as Sana's anal cavity refuses to give up. "OH MY GOD FUCK, SHITTTT," Sana starts screaming as you attempt to give her an anal orgasm, her belly moving with your thrusts in her butthole.
"SHITTTTTT," Sana screams as your fingers up her anus make her cum. "Taste it," you tell her as soon as her cunt squirts, Sana swallowing up your wet fingers. "OH MY GOD," Sana keeps screaming as you go back to finger-fucking her asshole. "If she's already cumming like that with just my fingers, can you imagine what she does with my cock in there?" you ask Sullyoon. "I can't wait to see it," Sullyoon answers. "I promise next time she brings you here you'll see, now I need to fuck your beautiful pussies more," you tell her.
You feed your fingers from Sana's butthole straight to Sullyoon's mouth. "Your mother is all sweaty but her ass still tastes like strawberries," you tell Sullyoon. "Yes, you're right, Daddy," she tells you as you fist her mouth, making Sullyoon spit all over her pussy. You two team up on Sana, as Sullyoon eats her mother's cunt while you keep fisting her anus. "That slut is so tight, I can put my whole arm up her ass and her hole shirks back to normal as soon as I pull out," you say.
"OH MY GOD, FUCKKKK," Sana keeps moaning as your finger stimulates her asshole, making her squirt all over her daughter's face. "You're gonna have many anal orgasms like this in the future, YoonA, even better if you can do it just with hands instead of a cock like your slutty mother," you tell Sullyoon as she licks Sana's pussy to the fullest. "OH FUCK MY ASS IS GETTING USED SO WELL," Sana screams as she gets one last anal orgasm.
"You wanna watch how you were conceived, YoonA?" you ask Sullyoon. "Of course, Daddy," the young slut answers. You warm Sana up with some dirty talk and choking. "Who's the biggest slut on the planet?" you ask Sana. "I am," she answers. "That's right," you tell her.
"You're so fucking beautiful, Sana, the perfect woman," you say as you start licking her pussy. Sullyoon is right to her side, masturbating to the hot scene. You give Sana a little anal tease, putting the tip of your cock in her butthole before pulling out and switching to her cunt. "I'll save it for another day," you say.
Despite getting pinned to the floor, Sana moves her hips to meet your cock as soon as it gets in her pussy. You spread her beautiful legs as Sullyoon is already creaming herself watching her mother getting drilled. You drive Sana to the floor, pounding her on an anime-esque mating press position. "OH MY GOD, OH SHIT," she moans as you stretch her pussy out, pounding it balls deep, her asshole winking every time your cock hits her cervix.
You choke Sana and talk dirty to her. "I'm gonna put a baby in that womb, give YoonA a sister that will grow up to be another big slut just like her mother," you tell Sana as you keep drilling her pussy, pressing her cheeks against the floor at each thrust while Sullyoon watches.
"Oh my God, show me the slut I am, breed me, give YoonA another sister," Sana begs as she looks at you with sexy eyes, letting herself get completely stopped in front of her daughter as your rough but very passionate thrusts in her pussy keep mounting. Sullyoon is bemused, watching your cock bulging under Sana's belly. "That woman looks so cute but is so nasty, how does it feel to have the perfect nympho as your mother, YoonA?" you ask Sullyoon. "Well, she's for sure a good mother to me," the young girl answers.
Sana manages to move her hips even pressed to the floor. "AHHHH, FUCK, FUCK, HOLY SHIT," she moans. You let her spin on your cock for a bit, you two trading sexy stares as Sana bounces on your cock while on the floor. "I'm gonna fill this fucking slut pussy," you tell her, getting completely on top of Sana and drilling her harder than ever, making loud noises as your bodies collide with each other at each thrust you give her.
"Watch this YoonA, learn how babies are made," you tell Sullyoon as you slow down, passionately kissing Sana and letting her walls squeeze your cock to the fullest until you fill her womb to the brim. "Your mother said she was not on the pill, hope you can get a younger sister over 20 years later, YoonA," you tell Sullyoon as your semen oozes out of Sana's tight pussy onto the floor. "You wanna go next, YoonA?" you ask the young girl. "Of course," Sullyoon answers.

"Then let's get to the couch," you say to Sullyoon as she follows you. Sana stays on the floor a little more as scoops your cum from it and licks it, while you turn your attention to her daughter.
You shove your cock balls deep in Sullyoon's mouth. "Get me hard again," you tell her. Sullyoon quickly obliges as she lets you fuck her face, but this time shows more willingness to fight back, bobbing her head hard as Sana is already back there to give her daughter instructions. "Keep your eyes open, take it all the way in, get him hard again for that meaty young pussy," her mother says.
Sullyoon grows more and more accustomed to your cock, filling it full of her saliva as deepthroats it hard. "Keep going, YoonA, get it wet for your pussy," Sana tells her as Sullyoon keeps choking on your already hard meat. You push it balls deep once again, her trying to last longer with it deep in her mouth, enjoying the string of saliva covering her pretty face.
"Open your eyes," Sana keeps saying as Sullyoon struggles to gag on your meat. "Louder, keep choking," her mother commands. "Here, let me teach you," Sana says, giving you a no-hands blowjob in front of her daughter. "Learn it, YoonA, I want you to take on that cock by yourself," Sana says as soon as she pops your cock out of her mouth.
You take turns fucking their throats and slap your cock in Sullyoon's face, letting both girls fight for your cock. Sana rubs your shaft all over her daughter's face while Sullyoon dives for your balls. "Come on, YoonA, you can do it," she says.
Sullyoon coughs all over your cock as Sana keeps telling her to keep her eyes open. You grab Sullyoon's pretty face and fuck it, the young girl struggling with your meat being much larger than her university colleagues. "She's still young, she's gonna be a great slut soon," Sana says.
"Follow your mother and lay on the couch," you tell Sullyoon as they get themselves lying upside down on the couch, their faces in prime position to get pounded. You tease both girls, taking turns between their mouths, before turning to Sullyoon, enjoying your cock bulge under her cheeks while Sana licks it.
"I think it's wet enough, turn around YoonA, and let me fuck your pussy," you tell Sullyoon as she follows your instructions. "Open your legs," you tell Sullyoon as you dive to eat her meaty pussy out while Sana sits on her face and starts squirting again over her daughter's body. Sullyoon eats Sana's pussy out, her mouths's lips perfectly interlocking with Sana's pussy lips.
"Look at her, getting my pussy wet so good, I think she's learning quite well," Sana says as you keep herself occupied with Sullyoon's pussy, pushing your head in the direction as you tongue all over her meaty clit. "Spread those lips for me," you tell Sullyoon, while Sana grinds her cunt in her daughter's mouth.
"Oh that feels so good," Sullyoon says as you two team up on her. Sana pushes harder, grinding her pussy all over her daughter's face. "AHHHHH," Sullyon suddenly screams as you shove your 9-inch cock back in her throbbing pussy without warning, Sana gets out of Sullyoon and lets her scream freely. "You're on your own, kid," she tells her daughter.
You drill Sullyoon's pussy hard, her moaning softly while Sana masturbates and goes back to squirting over her daughter. "Do you think she's learning how to take that big fat cock?" Sana asks you. "Yes, she's a good learner, just like her slutty mother," you answer, pushing harder into Sullyon's throbbing cunt.
"Spread it all over me, AHHHH, YEAHHH, THAT'S SO FUCKING HOT" Sullyoon begs as Sana gives her the biggest squirt shower yet. You keep pounding Sullyoon and instructing her. "Drink it, taste your mother's slutty juices," you command as you pick up the pace, grabbing Sullyoon's tits and enjoying her skin turn redder and redder the more you pound her.
Sana squirts all over Sullyoon's toned midriff, turning her daughter into a wet mess as your cock bulges under her fit belly. Sana goes back down, licking her juices from Sullyoon's belly and tasting your cock before you push it back inside her cunt. "Let me see that meaty cunt taking it all the way deep," she says. "AHHH, YEAH," Sullyoon moans up top.
You drill Sullyoon's pussy faster and faster, Sanna enjoying the bulge under her daughter's belly, licking the tip every time it pops under Sullyoon's navel. "Can you squirt like your mother?" you ask Sullyoon as Sana rubs her daughter's clit while you fuck her.
"I'll try, Daddy," Sullyoon answers you as her pussy starts getting wetter and wetter. "I LOVE HOW HARD YOU FUCK ME, DADDY," Sullyoon screams as you push harder and harder in her pussy. "Lick my ass, YoonA," Sana demands as she gets back to sit on her daughter's face, as Sullyoon obliges and puts her tongue deep in Sana's strawberry-flavored anus.
Sullyoon's legs tremble as you spread her long legs further and keep drilling her cunt nonstop. "Don't cum yet," Sana commands to her daughter, who tries to deal with it by pushing even harder into her mother's asshole.
But you have different plans. "Stay there," you tell Sullyoon, pulling out of her and fisting her cunt all of a sudden. "AHHHHH FUCKKKK," she suddenly screams, your massage in her cunt pushing her to the verge of orgasm. "Don't move YoonA, stay strong," you tell her. "FUCKKKK, DADDDY, I CAN'T TAKE IT YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM, OH MY GOD" Sullyoon screams as she explodes in the most mind-blowing orgasm she has ever had in her life, her cheeks getting completely covered with juices.
"It smells so sweet," Sana says as she licks her daughter's squirt. "Just like her mother," you tell her. "You told her not to cum, should I punish your daughter for not following your instructions?" you ask Sana. "Well, she's all yours, do whatever you want to her," Sana answers.
You put Sullyoon on the top of the couch, putting her under a mating press just like you did to her mother. "Should I cum in her pussy just like I did to you?" you ask Sana. "Of course," she answers, letting you have total control over Sullyoon.
"Look at this nasty bitch," you say as Sana comes from behind to watch you fuck her daughter and starts rimming your asshole, making you push harder against Sullyoon's meaty cunt, your ass rubbing all over Sana's sexy face. "AHHH, YEAHHH," Sullyoon screams as you punish her, spanking her red face and choking her hard as her cunt keeps getting drilled.
The couch creaks with the intensity of your pounding, you are now in total control of Sullyoon's sexy young body, pushing it against the couch as your whole weight is on top of her. Sana doesn't give a shit about her daughter getting choked to the extreme, just staying entertained licking your asshole. "I'm gonna cum so hard for you, Daddy," Sullyoon says as she can barely breathe with your strong hands wrapped around her neck, her body getting pushed harder and harder as you fuck her at full speed now.
"Oh right there, right there, Daddy, PLEASE, PLEASE" Sullyoon begs as you ramp up the intensity. She's just your fucktoy now, the only thing you care about now is fucking her meaty young cunt until she can't walk, destroying her hot sexy body to the maximum like a horning raging bull. "OH YEAH, OH FUCK," it's your turn to scream as you can feel Sullyoon's walls tighten around your cock, her whole body trembling and her moaning out of breath as you feel it's now or never.
You empty your balls in Sullyoon's meaty cunt, but your cock gets hard again as soon as your cum finishes painting her walls. "Look what you made me do, you dirty slut, you made me cum inside you in front of your mother," you tell Sullyoon. "I didn't do anything Daddy, you wanted," she says.
You grab Sullyoon's neck once again, plowing her even harder than before the creampie. "Why did you have to be so hot? Why did you have to be such a dirty slut just like your mother?" you keep asking her, massacring her pussy and choking her almost to death.
"Spank on her face, spit on it, be a good mother and discipline your daughter," you tell Sana. "Are you ready to cum on his dick, YoonA?" Sana asks. "YES, MOM, I WANT TO CUM ALL OVER DADDY'S COCK," Sullyoon screams, her face completely red as you and Sana watch from above. Sana disciplines Sullyoon, hitting her daughter's body as she is ready to orgasm. "My daughter is such a dirty slut, I'm so proud of her," she says.
"FUCK, AH, AH, AH, AH," Sullyoon starts to scream. "Cum on his dick," Sana orders, spanking her daughter more. "You want more?" you ask Sullyoon as you feel her walls tightening again. "YES, DADDY, CUM IN MY PUSSY AGAIN," Sullyoon begs.
You spread Sullyoon's legs again and go back to drill her cunt hard. Sana spanks her daughter's feet as you too discipline Sullyoon with countless spankings. "You want more?" you keep asking Sullyoon as you choke and fuck her. "YES, DADDY," she emphatically answers every single time.
"USE ME, DADDY, USE ME PLEASE," Sullyoon begs as she can barely think straight. "Dirty fucking slut taking his filthy cock," Sana says of her daughter as her legs start shaking and you two cum at the same time. "THIS IS SO GOOD, THANK YOU, MOM, YOU'RE THE BEST, THANK YOU FOR TRAINING ME LIKE THIS," Sullyoon says as she's completely overwhelmed, that experience will make her never see sex in the same way she once did. All the nights with those fraternity bros at her university will look tame and vanilla now compared to Daddy's 9-inch thick cock.
You and Sana massage Sullyoon's meaty pussy, signaling you two aren't done torturing the young girl with pleasure. "I'M GONNA CUM SO HARD, FUCKKKK, YESS" she screams as your hands touch her cum-filled folds and her legs shake. "YoonA, your pussy is still so tight it can break my little hands," Sana says.
"Oh my God it's so intense," Sullyoon says as she cums again. But you aren't done with her. "Easy, please," she begs as you put your finger up her asshole and then feed it to Sana to taste. "You want to have an assgasm like your mother?" you ask Sullyoon. "Yes, Daddy, anything you want," she answers.
You massage Sullyoon's asshole as Sana watches and laughs. "Ohhhh it's so intense," she says. "Next time we meet I'm gonna fuck your ass and you will think twice to find this intense," you tell her as you make her taste her butthole. "That's it. "Yes, Daddy, fist my ass like I'm a fucking whore, a fucking slut, I love being used like this and treated like a whore," Sullyoon says.
"AHHHH I'M GONNA CUM AGAIN," Sullyoon screams as you manage to give her an anal orgasm. "Daddy, I never felt so good like today, thank you," she says as you two share passionate kisses, Sana watching on the side as you make love with her daughter after giving her the nastiest possible orgasm. "That's why I love him so much, YoonA, he's the only dude who can finger your asshole and then hug and kiss you a second after," Sana says.
"Cum in me again, Daddy, turn me into your cum dump," Sullyoon begs as Sana smiles watching her daughter begging for more. "She's turning into such a good slut," she says. "You like that, you dirty slut? The more you get, the more you want," you say, enraged as you spank Sullyoon's face and tying to find more cum in your balls to give to her.
Sana gives you more naughty stares, pleased with the way you fuck her daughter and happy her training was successful. You keep spanking Sullyoon's face. "You're getting on my nerves, slut," you tell her, choking Sullyoon. "Sorry, Daddy, I'm just a needy girl who wants cum," she says, her face completely red as Sana kisses her. "You're so beautiful taking all this cock," Sana tells her as you lift Sullyon's right leg and put both your feet in her face. "YES, PLEASE, PLEASE," Sullyoon begs as she gets used like a toy,"
"Here's the cum you wanted, bitch," you tell Sullyoon as Sana gets up, watching her daughter get filled up again as her body is completely under your control. "That's fucking amazing," Sullyoon says. "My daughter is such a beautiful slut," Sana says as Sullyoon collapses on the couch, exhausted as your drilling sucked all her energy. But you still have one other horny woman yet to be fully satisfied in the room, all sweaty and ready to be pounded once again even as your cock was so drained by Sullyoon you might be shooting blanks at this point.
But Sana is not like the other girls, she always has a move up her sleeve.
"YoonA, I know you're all dizzy over his cock, but I need to teach you one final move, it's called 'The Snake Enchanter,'" Sana says as she starts kissing you.
"Carry me, let's do it," Sana says as you grab her from the couch and start bouncing on your cock while you lift her. "Holy shit, my mother is insane," Sullyoon says as she watches the way Sana moves her hips, getting you hard once again as she does her signature riding moves. "You're gonna empty your balls in my pussy just like you did to my daughter," she tells you.
"AH, AH, AH, AH," Sana moans as she works on your cock. Sullyoon tries to be a good student just like in her university, watching her mother with her eyes wide open as you carry-fuck Sana all over your living room, getting close to the mirror. Sullyoon is exhausted but comes close to watching her mother bounce on your dick. "So fucking sexy," she says, looking from below as Sana's pussy moves up and down your shaft in a perfect rhythm.
You grab Sana's ass and spread her cheeks in front of Sullyoon, as her mother continues to moan every time she reaches the bottom of your cock, her hips grinding to perfection on your big fat cock. "Squirt on me," you beg Sana as you put her back on the ground, sitting on your chair and letting her finger her pussy right in your face. "Watch this, YoonA," she tells her daughter, covering your face with a geyser of juices.
Sana grabs your head and rubs her pussy in your face. "Yes, baby, worship my juicy pussy," she says as Sullyoon comes back to the scene and jerks your cock off. "Good girl, preparing this cock for your mother to sit on," Sana praises her.
"Sit on my dick," you tell Sana as Sullyoon keeps moving her hands around your cock, lining it up to her mother's entrance and watching her bounce on it. "Pay attention YoonA, this is how you milk a cock dry," Sana says, moving her hips in an insanely fast manner, grinding on your cock to perfection with very fast and strong bounces, her asshole wiking as she moves.
"OH MY GOD, PLEASE, CUM IN MY PUSSY, AHHHH," Sana begs, driving you insane, you grab her and start pushing upwards against her cunt. "OH MY GOD, FUCK," she screams, Sullyoon watches as your thrusts push her mother's body up in the air. "Holy fuck, he's gonna split my mom in half," she thinks.
"AH, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Sana screams as you thrust so hard you nearly send her flying against the wall. As you pull out of her pussy, your cum oozes out of it and drops to the floor. "Taste it, YoonA," Sana tells her daughter, who crawls into the stains of semen on the ground and licks them to perfection. "From my pussy too," Sana commands as Sullyoon obliges.
The three of you are exhausted after nearly an hour and a half of rough fucking. "I can't wait to see you again, fucking sexy girls," you tell Sana and Sullyoon, giving them some kisses as they head back to their homes full of sweat and cum.
Sana and Sullyoon arrive home, taking a shower together. "What did you think of your training?" Sana asks her daughter. "It was amazing, mom, thank you again," Sullyoon answers. She's so tired that she goes straight to sleeping after finishing the shower, while Sana sends you some texts.
"My daughter really liked it," she says to you. "It was a pleasure," you text back.
On the following morning, Sana wakes up to her routine. As she heads towards Sullyoon's bedroom, she doesn't find her daughter in there. "YOONA, WHERE ARE YOU?" she screams as she searches all over the house before her motherly instincts kick in.
Sana drives to your house, opens the door, and gets shocked as she watches her daughter naked on all fours on the floor getting her ass fucked while her head gets stomped and she begs for more.
"YES, DADDY, PLEASE, FUCK MY ASS HARDER," Sullyoon screams before she sees her mother right beside her and gets shy as the fucking session comes to a halt.
"You really like your father's cock, don't you, YoonA?" Sana asks her daughter. "My, what?" Sullyoon asks, confused. "Your father," Sana answers. "Mom, you must be joking," she replies to Sana. "No, I'm not, I know it's hard to resist but you really need to contain the impulses of fucking your father," Sana answers.
"Are you really my father or is she joking?" Sullyoon asks you.
"Yes, YoonA, I am your father," you affirmatively answer, only to receive a very unexpected answer from your daughter.
"That's so hot."
#sullyoon smut#sana smut#nmixx smut#twice smut#female idol smut#girl group smut#kpop smut#male reader smut
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I haven't drawn Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss redesigns since last year and the fandom still regularly tags me/picks fights with me over them. I did not think a couple drawings would live in people's heads so rent free.
Like you can go find my redesigns on twitter, they're still very public. I just label them as "Angel Dust redesign" or "Alastor redesign". The only time I think I explicitly called a design bad was when I said I found Beelzebub's design atrocious. Which it is. It's an overdesigned mess that doesn't convey the sin at all, I'm allowed to say I don't like it. And even still, when I posted the art, I still labeled it as "Beelzebub redesign".
I'm not going to forget when you fans regularly stalked my account and PATREON just to figure out when I would upload the redesigns. You think I forgot about when I posted my Angel Dust redesign which was just meant to improve my old design and you people harassed me for days? You accused me of "baiting" fans because you are so self-obsessed you think everything I do is explicitly to upset you. You people misgendered me, told me to kill myself, called me a fucking cockroach and flat out threatened to assault me multiple times. Sure I was harsh about my critiques, but I didn't resort to homophobic and transphobic comments like you people did with my Angel Dust redesign because for some unexplained reason you diehard fans who have been following this project for 10 years didn't know that he's meant to be a drag queen. When I did a quick redesign of Katie Killjoy on my personal tumblr, guess what? You people flipped the fuck out, AGAIN.
I can't even talk about my own religion without you sad, paranoid losers thinking I'm trashtalking hazbin hotel. You made up some rumor that I block all Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss fans (despite being mutuals/friends with people who are fans of the shows or actually work on them) just so you could justify harassing me even more. You told me for years that I should wait until the Hazbin series dropped to get my full thoughts out and when it did you people still freaked out and berated me.
Even when I talked about my situation after posting my Angel Dust redesign, instead of apologizing, fans claimed I planned this hostile reaction to begin with to make the fandom look bad. That I was "pulling a transphobia card" for sympathy. I didn't do shit. You people have gotten more aggressive about your hate towards me because people finally saw how incredibly inappropriate and vile you people act over a midtier cartoon written by someone who has so many allegations of bullying, transphobia, racism and workplace abuse that it's become harder and harder for you to deny, so you take out your unrepressed anger on me.
I know the only reason you people target me is because I'm a big artist who doesn't kiss Viv's ass. You want me to be a diehard fan of hers like every other big artist you people bully into worshipping Viv and her show and I won't do it. So you just obsessively stalk and monitor my account and accuse every little thing I do as a spiteful attack so you can justify your little harassment campaigns again. It's pathetic.
Seek help, find a hobby, stop obsessing over people who don't like the same thing as you. It's getting sad.
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☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 25
Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader
written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!
warnings/labels: it's time for a training montage! minor injury, guns briefly mentioned wc: 2.1k
Chapter Selection
“I can’t believe we’re doing this…” Jason grumbled softly, starting his bike.
“I told you; you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. Bruce said he'd send a car for me.” I wrapped my arms around his waist, gently squeezing.
“Absolutely not. If you’re joining Thursday training sessions, I’m going with you.” We flew down the street, Jason’s voice continuing in the speaker in my helmet; “I just don’t understand why you want to do this at all…”
“Training with more people will give me a more well-rounded experience. And while you are a very good teacher, you’re also my boyfriend. Somehow I feel like Bruce will be a harsher critic of my abilities.”
“And that’s a good thing??” He took a sharp turn toward the wealthy side of town.
“When we’re talking about possible life and death situations, yes. And I don’t really want you to have to be harsh with me, so why don’t we make that Bruce’s responsibility, since that relationship is already tense anyway?”
Jason sighed softly, gently squeezing my hands. “... I guess. … He can be a … tough teacher though. If he’s too hard on you, you don’t have to take it.”
“I know, baby. And he knows I’m not looking to be added to the patrol schedule, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Jason grumbled more, but continued driving to Wayne Manor. We parked in a large garage, and he led me to an elevator. After pressing several buttons we were headed down to the Batcave, where the entire Wayne family met us.
Damian spied us first, walking over. “Sister?”
“Hey kiddo! You gonna help train me?” I grinned, holding my hand out to him. He hesitantly squeezed my hand once, dropping it quickly.
“... I thought Father was attempting to make a joke when he said you were joining our training sessions…” he frowned deeply.
“Nope, no joke. … Is that a problem?” I raised an eyebrow.
“... I suppose not. … You will spar with me.” He gestured for me to follow him toward some mats.
Jason cried after us; “hey! Be gentle, demon brat. She's still new to this stuff.”
“I am not a fool, Todd. I am not expecting her to be a black belt.” Damian nodded; “stretches first.”
I took a seat and pulled my shoes off before stepping onto the mat, doing our usual pre-workout stretches. Eventually Bruce came over, watching us with vague interest on his face. “Alright, let's see what we have to work with.”
I nodded, and Damian and I put on some padding. We bowed to each other, and began. He started out slowly, letting me get in the flow of things. The others watched, periodically calling out instructions and encouragements. After a while I caught a glimpse of Jason in the corner of my eye, chewing on his lip, and Damian took that moment to sweep my leg out from under me.
“Oof!” I grunted softly as I landed on my back, blinking a bit.
“Don't get distracted. Your opponent will use that moment to their advantage.”
I nodded, accepting Damian's offered hand to get back up. “Go again?”
He nodded, and we went again, and again, and again. Every time, I ended up on my back, and he had another note for me. “Don't watch my face, watch my shoulders.” “If you aren't willing to hurt me, you will never win.” “Follow through, or none of this will matter.” “Focus on your footing; you're off balance.” “Breath with your attacks.”
Eventually, Jason stepped forward. “That's enough, take five.”
I nodded, letting him help me up, and bowed to Damian again. “Thanks for training me, Damian.”
He nodded, smiling a little, and bowed back. “You're not entirely hopeless, considering you're a civilian. If you take this seriously, you'll be a proper martial artist in no time.”
I grinned, nodding, and Jason led me to the side, getting me some water. “How do you feel?”
“I feel fine, baby! Damian is an excellent sparring partner.”
He frowned a bit, massaging my shoulders. “I dunno, some of those throws were unnecessarily rough…”
“Jace, do you think the next mugger I run into is going to be more gentle with me than that?”
He sighed, kissing my neck. “... No. … I just don't like watching you get knocked around.”
“I know, you're so protective of me~ it's sweet, but we gotta power through this part so I can get good.”
He sighed, holding me close. We watched the others pair up for more intensive sparring practices, and Bruce came over. “You did well out there. I want you to work on your balance for a while, Jason can walk you through that. And you should do at least an hour a day of simple exercises; stretching, strength training, and balance training.”
I nodded. “Got it. Thanks Bruce…”
He nodded, pointing out the equipment he recommended I use today, and went back to observing the others. Jason eventually led me over to the equipment, and we started working on my balance.
After weeks of gym days with Jason and BatFam training sessions, I really expected to see myself slimming down a bit. But when I looked in the mirror, I was still soft and curvy. My arm and leg muscles were more pronounced, and I was certain my core muscles were getting stronger too, but my tummy was still round and squishy. It didn't bother me, and Jason seemed rather pleased to not be losing my softness; he tended to nuzzle against my chest and stomach at night, like a big cuddly teddy bear.
Seeing my training progress wasn't making him any less protective either; every time I stepped onto the mat with one of his siblings I could hear him growling at them. It didn't deter Damian, or the girls, but Dick and Tim were particularly hesitant to give me a proper training session. They mostly stuck to helping me with warm ups, and shouting suggestions from the sidelines.
All of the bats were master martial artists, but each had their own preferred fighting styles. Damian taught me to fake out my opponent, and had a proclivity for taking out the leg. Stephanie preferred to mix up her fighting style, keeping her opponents off guard. Cass taught me to anticipate an opponent's moves, watching for the slightest movements that might tell me how to take them down. When Dick and I sparred, he mostly stuck to the basics, not wanting to risk injuring me in front of Jason. Tim mostly helped me work on my blocks and defensive strategy. Bruce stuck to observing and instructing, never actually entering the ring with me. And with the lot of them training me in various martial arts, Jason turned our gym days into gym-and-range days; we would do some stretches and basic core-building, and then we went to the shooting range to work on my aim.
One day before training, Damian had me kneel. Once I was on my knees, he held out a yellow sash with little black bats on it, saying something in a language I didn't know.
I took it, smiling softly; “what's this?”
“Your yellow bat-belt. You've leveled up in your training. Put it on.”
I grinned, nodding, and tied it around my waist; “yes, Sensei.”
Damian smiled at that, nodding once. Once he was happy with how the belt was tied, he led me to the mats for our sparring session. Tim snorted softly, watching from the side.
“What's with the belt? You know the mish-mash of martial arts she's learning wouldn't count at a proper school, right?”
Damian glowered at him; “she has leveled up in the School of the Bat. That is what matters here.”
“Well how come the rest of us don't get bat-belts then?” Tim smirked a bit; “you gotta make them for everyone, Damian!”
“You would not like a physical indicator of what level I deem you to be at, Drake.” Damian smirked at his indignant noises, and turned to me. We bowed and started our sparring session.
In our fourth spar of the day, I landed my first ever hit. One second Damian was in front of me, fists up, and the next he was sprawled out on the floor in front of me, looking up at me in shock.
“Oh my god, Damian! Are you ok??” I fell to my knees next to him as he sat up slowly.
“... I'm fine. … Well done, sister.” He smirked a bit; “now do it again.”
I could hear the smirk in Jason's voice as he called out; “way to go, babe! Kick the demon brat's ass!”
“Language.” Bruce frowned at him, and I helped Damian up.
“Sorry, B. Let's try that again,” he cleared his throat, putting on the most happy-go-lucky voice he could manage; “holy guacamole, bat-babe! Gee golly, can ya do it again, pretty girl?”
Dick wrinkled his nose, groaning softly. “Dear god, I forgot you used to talk like that. Never do that again.”
“Agreed.” I laughed softly, sticking my tongue out at him; “that was horrible!”
He chuckled, winking at me. Damian frowned, snapping at us; “Enough! No flirting during training! Sister, let's go again.”
My head was ringing. Hands grabbed me, and I was carefully brought into a seated position. I blinked slowly, touching the back of my head gently. No blood. That was good…
“-idn't mean to! Fuck!”
“Well you did! So back off, Grayson!” Damian spoke sharply next to me. His small hands held the sides of my face, making me look at him; “... No dilation, that's good.”
I blinked slowly, frowning. “Wha- … what happened?”
Jason held me against his chest, frowning deeply. “You don't remember, baby?”
I started to shake my head, but the pounding in my head put a stop to that. “Ohhh fuck … ow…”
“Shit …” Dick whined softly from somewhere behind Damian. “Shit, I … I'm so sorry! I swear, I didn't mean to!”
“Dick, just shut up.” Jason growled, holding me closer. He carefully lifted me, holding me against his chest as he carried me toward a long bench.
“She's probably got a concussion. Don't let her sleep.” Tim frowned, bringing an ice pack.
Jason took it, carefully pressing it to my head. “Yeah, no shit…”
“What happened?”
“Dick threw you off the mat.” Jason growled softly, holding me close. “You're done for the day. Time to rest.”
“Ugh… ok. … Rest sounds good…” I frowned, closing my eyes.
Dick hesitantly mumbled my name; “I'm so sorry!”
“It's all good, Dick. I'm not dying.” I groaned softly, leaning against Jason.
Jay growled softly. “It's not all good. I told you to be careful. I told you not to hurt her!”
I shushed him softly, leaning in more. “No yelling…”
He sighed softly, kissing my forehead. “Sorry, baby girl…”
Bruce checked my eyes, frowning a bit. “... Nothing else she can do today. Take her home, have her take a few days off.”
Jay grunted his agreement and the next thing I knew, I was in his arms again, being carried to the elevator. Damian ran after us, bringing my bag along. I smiled softly, reaching down to stroke his hair. “Thanks, kiddo…”
He leaned in to my touch for a second before pulling back; “I'll come over tomorrow after school to check on you.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, Damian.” He smiled a little at that, setting my bag in the car. Jason got me situated, making sure I was buckled, before getting in and driving me home.
“Fucking Dick…” he grumbled softly.
“Relax, baby. It's just a minor concussion. I'll be fine tomorrow.” I smiled softly, watching the scenery.
“Should never have happened…’’
“It was an accident, they happen. Don't be too harsh with him.”
He sighed, resting a hand on my knee. “... This ok?”
I smiled softly and nodded, turning toward him; “Yeah, that's ok.”
He smiled a little and gently stroked my knee with his thumb; “when we get in, you're gonna rest on the couch. I'll get you some water, and aspirin, and I'll make something light for dinner.”
“Ok. Thanks, Jay~” I sighed softly, closing my eyes for a second.
“Don't sleep, now. You gotta stay awake for a while.”
“Ok, I'll stay awake.” I slowly opened my eyes, blinking a bit. “... So bright though…”
Jason pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his center console and passed them to me. I grinned, kissing his hand, and put them on. “Much better. … Takin' such good care'a me…”
He chuckled softly. “Anything you need, doll. Always.”
Next ->
Divider by: @saradika-graphics
Taglist (open): @jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men @cottage-worm @v1ckycheesue @roastyyytoastyyy @sarakmec @thestarcatcher7297 @stupidlyunhinged
#fanfic#fanfiction#dc fanfic#dc#jason todd#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#first person pov#wayne family adventures#no y/n#chubby reader#multichapter fic#Can I Get Your Number?
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A fool for you

Words: ~1.9k
Pairing: Soap x Ghost
Tags: fluff, confession, simon feels unworthy of love, johnny proves him the opposite
Warnings: None apply
Artist: @evisen
"A bloody flirt, that’s what you are." Ghost shook his head, a smirk hidden away behind his mask. The scot laughed heartily, bumping his shoulder against the other. Not minding it any attention. He was kind of used to bodily contact with Ghost, after all their missions together. It felt natural, comfortable. On both sides. "Could teach ya somethin here 'n there. Push yer luck with the lasses.”
The taller man chuckled lowly, his gaze intense as he studied Soap. He raised a brow, a flicker of amusement sparking in his eyes. "Is that so?" He mused. "Should I take notes, or do you prefer a more hands-on approach, Johnny?”
Soap smirked, a snicker rolling through his body. "Seriously though, Si... You never let anyone close. I'm worried about you." His voice got quieter as his tone got serious. Simon’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing at those words. He hated it when the sergeant expressed concern for him. It made him feel weak. Vulnerable. "I don't need your worry, Soap. I'm fine." He muttered, his voice gruff and defensive.
Johnny simply looked at him, staying quiet but not less observant of the building tension. The silence between them was deafening. Ghost could feel Soap's eyes on him, studying him, analyzing his every move. It made his skin crawl. He didn't like being seen, being understood, being exposed. Normally wasn’t one to simply back out of situations. But here he was. Staring up at the ceiling, avoiding that sky blue gaze.
After what felt like an eternity, he spoke up, his voice quieter than before. "You don't understand, Johnny.”
"Then explain it to me... I like to think I'm your best mate. So you can trust me. Not just on the battlefield." The sergeant smiled, brows furrowed. It was a funny display and Ghost's expression softened marginally at his words. He closed his eyes, letting out a weary sigh. He knew Soap was right. He trusted him more than he trusted himself, sometimes. When he opened his eyes again they were met with an intense and searching gaze.
"It's...complicated." The lieutenant grumbled, his voice sounding tired.
"I'm sure I can follow."
Ghost exhaled slowly, his eyes focused on a spot on the wall. The tension in his shoulders seemed to ease a bit. "I don't let people in, Johnny. Because I can't afford to. Not in this job." He paused, his voice getting quieter. "We lose people constantly. I've lost people...people I cared about. Letting someone in means letting yourself care about them. And when you care about someone in this line of work...it's a liability. It distracts you. Leaves you open to weakness.”
It made sense, of course it did. Soap battled those thoughts way more often than he'd like to admit too. But in the long run, it was a mistake. After all, one cares about their teammates too, no? He shifted a little. "...You let me in.”
Simon's gaze snapped to the scot at his words, his expression flickering with a hint of surprise. As if that was something he had to point out. "That's...different." He muttered, voice growing quieter. His eyes trailed over Johnny's face, taking in his features, his expression, his eyes, the way his eyebrows furrowed together, the scar on one of them. He was silent for a moment, wrestling with his thoughts, his feelings. Then he spoke again, his voice a near whisper. "You're the exception, Johnny.”
"Am I now?”
"You know you are."
The taller man shifted in his position again. The proximity was both comforting and overwhelming at the same time. He could feel the warmth radiating off Soap, spreading through his body wherever they touched.
"No one else gets under my skin like you do. No one else understands me like you do. It's...dangerous.”
"Dangerous for who?" Soap was quick to ask back. A lopsided grin playing on his lips, not quite grasping the emotions this conversation held for Simon. What it meant for him to admit these things. He was so used to being close to the lieutenant that sometimes he forgot just how isolated the man usually kept himself. That he barely exchanged words with most, let alone hold a conversation. That hands would be broken so fast if anyone just so much as tried to touch the soldier with the skull mask. And then there was him.
Whiskey brown eyes stared at Soap. Ghost felt exposed, vulnerable. He hated it. Every single second. "For both of us, Johnny." He muttered, his voice a rough growl. "You think I don't have nightmares about losing you out there, one day? About seeing you get shot, or blown to bits, or captured and tortured?" A shaky breath was exhaled. "I care about you. More than I should."
A pause.
"You make me weak, Johnny.”
"And you make me strong." The stubborn sergeant flatly replied, standing his ground, looking into the eyes behind the mask. Eyes searching Soap’s face, accompanied by a bitter chuckle. "You think so? You're the one who's always charging into danger, throwing caution to the wind. You have no regard for your own safety. You're reckless and stubborn and careless." And loyal, creative, funny, a sight for sore eyes… His mind silently added the thoughts he would never dare to voice. Bloody hell, he could list a thousand things more.
Soap chuckled lowly. "I can afford to do that because I know yer always got my back..." He averted his gaze. "And I need to get back to you at the end of the day. That's outta the question.”
Simon's expression softened at the sergeant's words. The warmth now also spread through his chest. He reached out, grabbing Soap's chin and forcing his eyes back up at him. "You're bloody suicidal, Johnny. That's my job." His tone was a mix of frustration and fondness.
The scotsman smirked. It was his dumb, naive, lopsided grin that made something in Ghost stir every time. "As if I'll let you have all the fun alone.”
Ghost exhaled a low growl, a mixture of annoyance and amusement. He had half a mind to shake Soap by his shoulders, knock some sense into him. But there was something about that stupid grin that made his heart flutter. He hated it. "You're impossible."
"Been called worse before." The grin was just widening. Especially as he leaned a bit closer to the other man. His eyes studying the mask. Ghost tensed slightly as Soap leaned closer, his heart skipping a beat. The scent of him filling his nostrils. He wanted to pull away, to maintain his usual aloof demeanor, but he found himself frozen in place. His grip on Soap's chin loosening, finger tracing along his bottom lip. "You're playing with fire, Johnny." He muttered.
At that, the sergeant laughed, shaking his head slightly. "Ye saw me blowin up more stuff than fireworks going off at new years. Yer really think I'd be afraid of some heat?”
"One day that fire's gonna burn you alive." Simon exhaled a rough breath, his knuckles grazing against Soap's jawline.
"As long as that fire is called Simon Riley..." The shorter man whispered, looking up at Ghost through half lidded eyes, voice quiet. Almost... Vulnerable.
Ghost's heart was on the verge of just combusting, eyes snapping to the scot, his breath hitching in his throat. He felt his walls crumble, his carefully guarded facade slipping away. Hearing Soap say his name like that, so soft and earnest… It shook him to his core. Swallowing hard, his eyes searched Soap's face, looking for any hint of mockery or jest. But he saw nothing but vulnerability, a rawness in Soap's expression that mirrored his own.
"Johnny..." He whispered, his voice ragged. "You can't say things like that. Not when I'm trying to keep myself together."
He paused, his thumb brushing over Soap's lip.
"Why ye have to be so stubborn?" Johnny leaned closer to him, his lips parting slightly when the thumb brushed over them once more.
"I'm not the stubborn one here. You're the one who never backs down, the one who never listens. Always charging into danger like a bloody madman."
"So you saying this time the danger's you?"
Ghost huffed out a soft, gruff chuckle. He couldn't deny the truth in Soap's words. He was dangerous, a ticking time bomb, a man consumed by his own inner demons. "Yeah, Johnny. Sometimes I think you're safer out there in the field than you are with me."
He paused, his voice quieter now.
"You make me lose control. You make me want things I shouldn't want."
The sergeant didn't back down. His expression getting softer. "Such as?" The question was barely above a whisper.
The lieutenant felt his resolve crumbling further under the others' gaze. He could feel himself getting pulled in, drawn to Soap like a moth to a flame. He let out a ragged breath, his pulse quickening in his ears. "Things I could never have, Johnny."
He paused, his eyes flicking down to Soap's lips for a split second.
"Things I don't deserve."
"And who decided on that bullshit?"
A bitter chuckle rumbled in his chest. "You think I don't know I'm a mess? That I'm damaged goods? I'm not exactly the kind of person you bring home to mum and dad." His voice growing rougher as he went on. "I've done things, been through things… I've got scars, both inside and out that would scare the livin' daylights out of anyone."
"...That's not the Simon I see." The scotsman spoke up. "While those things are a part of you, they don't define you. That's not all there is to you. Despite what you think of yourself..." Looking down at the space between them, his hand found the others. Fingers delicately brushing over the back of the glove.
"...Loving you is easy."
Ghost felt his chest tightening. He felt raw, vulnerable, exposed. No one had ever seen him like this, had ever looked past his gruff exterior and seen the mess underneath. Not like that. He wanted to argue, to push Soap away, to protect himself from the vulnerability. But he couldn't. Johnny was like a drug and he was hopelessly addicted.
"You're a bloody fool, Soap."
Soap chuckled softly, the sound carrying a mixture of amusement and affection. His thumb tracing comforting circles on Ghost's hand. "Maybe I am." He admitted. "But I've never been one to back down from a challenge, especially when it comes to you, Si. I'd rather be a fool for you than anyone else." His gaze held steady on Simon's masked face, unwavering in its sincerity. Ghost met that gaze, the intensity of their connection palpable in the quiet space between them.
"You don't know what you're getting yourself into, Johnny." The taller man warned softly, though the corners of his mouth tugged upward in a faint, hesitant smile.
"I know enough." Johnny replied softly. "And I'm not going anywhere."
#soap x ghost#ghost x soap#ghostsoap#ghoap#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#soap cod#john soap mactavish#cod mw2#cod#mw2#ficlet#watcher writes
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Against All Odds part 2
The GIFs are not mine; credit goes to the respective artist/creator.
Summary : After the ‘incident’ on the gym with Bucky, now you had left with some unanswered questions about your relationship with him. You decided to confront him about it.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (No mentions of body type or ethnicity other than the reader being female)
General tags : Slight smut and pure angst
TW: Strong language, Masturbation (f), Hurt, Heavy angst, Bucky an asshole
Word Count: 7k
A/N : Hey there! Guess who's back? This is the long-awaited Part 2. My apologies for the delay; I've revised the plot about three times to ensure its genuinely angsty. It's about to get tougher before it gets better! Get ready for the emotional rollercoaster!
Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3
If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here
These are the aesthetic for part 2 (solely for visual representation of what going to happen on the story, this meant no representation for body type or ethnicity)



You were panicking as someone could see you in such state, strangely, Bucky seemed unfazed, his expression steady despite the unexpected interruption. Then, your heart skipped a beat as the doorknob turned.
The person outside attempted to open the door, but they couldn’t. Relief flooded you, thank God Bucky had locked the door. "Is someone in here? You know you can’t lock the door," the voice outside the room chastised, followed by insistent knocks.
"Fuck." Bucky muttered, frustration etched on his face. "Who's interrupting us now?" He released you from his embrace, standing up abruptly. "We need to leave." His hand found yours, offering support as he helped you to your feet.
Your legs felt wobbly, but Bucky steadied you as he handed over your clothes. "Here," he said, helping you slip into them. "Put these on."
Bucky was about to pulled up his pants, when he saw your panties in his hand. A mischievous smile formed on his lips. "Hold still."
Confused, you questioned, "What are you doing?"
He playfully stuffed your panties into his pocket. "I'm keeping these as a little souvenir."
"You can't just take those!" you protested, your face flushing with embarrassment.
Bucky simply shrugged, his expression unapologetic. "Sure, I can," he said, enjoying the playful banter despite the urgency of the situation.
Before you could retort, the voice from outside grew more impatient. "Hey! I can hear you in there. I'm coming in if you don't answer me," it warned, the threat clear in its tone.
Bucky's expression changed, growing serious as the sound of keys jiggling reached his ears. With a swift nod, you both understood it was time to make your escape.
"We have to go. Now." He said, ushering you towards the other exit, his arm protectively wrapping around you. "Just keep quiet."
You finished putting your clothes back on. Bucky held onto you as he walked across the room, looking for your shoes. You were about to put on your shoes, when you heard the same person call out. You could hear he was picking keys to opened the door.
Bucky glanced over at the door. "He’s going see us. We should go."
But you halted his hasty retreat, pulling him back toward you. "Bucky, wait," you said, you blushed. "I don't think I can walk." You admitted.
He grinned, a look of pure male satisfaction on his face. "Here hop on," he turned his back to you. "I'll give you a piggyback ride."
"What? No, that's embarrassing." you protested, even though you really did need help walking. You felt stupid for feeling so excited, but the thought of being carried by him, made your stomach flutter.
Bucky was persistent. "C'mon, I’ll carry you." he motioned for you to climb onto his back.
"Bucky... I don’t know...," You argued, blushing as you looked down at the ground.
"Oh, please." Bucky scoffed. "I can bench press 500 pounds without breaking a sweat. You weigh nothing to me." He reassured you, his arms outstretched as he bent down.
"Fine," you gave in. You wrapped your arms around his neck and hopped onto his back. Bucky hoisted you up, wrapping his hands underneath your thighs. "This is kind of weird."
"You better hold on tight." He grabbed your shoes with him and went to the back door. "Ready?"
“Yeah.” You tightened your arms around him.
Then you remember, "Wait! I haven't got my phone. It's still on the floor." You protested.
Bucky groaned in exasperation. "You know, that's what's going to get us caught."
"Yes, but then they’ll know it was me in here. Turn around and grab my phone.” You ordered him. He did as you told him even though he wasn’t happy about it, gabbing your phone from the floor.
Bucky started walking towards the door. The sound of keys were being turned, it looked like he found the key. "Hurry, Buck!" You said to him.
"Don't worry, I'll get us out of here."
He pushed the door open and stepped out. You had made it halfway through the alleyway when you saw someone coming. "Shit, run."
Bucky bolted down the alley, with you holding onto him. You both were safe until you reached the elevator, and then you could relax. Once you inside the elevator, Bucky kept you perched on his back. He refused to let you go until the doors closed.
Are we good now?" you asked, your voice still tinged with the adrenaline from the escape.
"Yes," Bucky answered. "We're good now."
"You can put me down now, Bucky." You suggested.
"You sure?" He looked back at you. "You're not as heavy as I thought."
"Gee, thanks," you muttered sarcastically, rolling your eyes at his attempt to lighten the mood.
He chuckled softly as he carefully lowered you to the ground. You reached up and felt how your hair had become all tangled. Your lips were swollen from his kisses. And you couldn't even begin to imagine what your eyes looked like.
"Thanks for the ride," you said, a weary smile gracing your lips as you recalled the unconventional piggyback escape.
"Anytime, doll," Bucky responded with a hint of amusement, his relief palpable.
You smoothed out your clothes and fixed your hair. You leaned against the wall, catching your breath.
"Hey," Bucky said, his voice softening as he placed a hand on your shoulder, his eyes searching yours. "Are you okay?"
You offered a reassuring smile. "Yeah, I'm fine." However, curiosity crept into your voice, "But earlier, when we were... interrupted. Who was it?"
Bucky hesitated before admitting, "No one, I was just messing with you."
A wave of relief washed over you upon hearing his words. You stood next to each other, neither one of you saying a word. The air between you was heavy, but not uncomfortably so. You were glad you had finally slept with him. You had wanted it for a while now, but he was so hard to read.
You wondered what happened now. Would things be awkward between the two of you? Would he pretend like nothing happened?
You were about to break the silence when the elevator door slid open, interrupting your thoughts.
"After you," Bucky said, offering a gallant gesture, indicating for you to exit first.
"Thank you," you replied, stepping out of the elevator. Bucky followed you, and you both began your walk down the corridor in the direction of your room.
In the midst of the silence, Bucky took a deep breath, as if mustering the words he wanted to say. "Listen, Y/N."
You turned to him. "Yes?" you responded, ready for the conversation you knew was coming.
However, as Bucky was about to speak, Steve entered the compound, heading down the same hallway toward both of you. A twinge of frustration shot through you as you silently cursed Steve for his untimely intrusion, just when the conversation appeared ready to take a more serious turn.
You couldn't help but wonder, 'What is he doing here?' as your irritation simmered beneath the surface.
"Y/N, about—" Bucky started again, his words cut off as you held up a hand.
"Hold that thought," you interrupted him, your gaze fixated down the hall where Steve was approaching.
"What's wrong?"
"Steve's coming," you replied, your irritation evident. The interruption was untimely, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance at the universe's sense of timing.
Bucky followed your gaze, and his face fell as soon as he saw his friend. "Fuck," he cursed under his breath.
You both watched as Steve drew nearer, his pace slowing down as he approached you and Bucky. "Hi, Buck," Steve greeted his friend, patting him on the shoulder. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he glanced over at you, then back at Bucky. “I thought you left hours ago."
"I did, but I had some stuff to take care of," Bucky replied swiftly, his expression unreadable. You sensed an immediate shift in Bucky's demeanor, a return to his cold, distant self in the presence of his friend.
You were about to question Steve's unexpected presence, considering he was supposed to be on a mission with the rest of the team. However, Bucky voiced the query before you could. "Has the mission ended? Where’s everyone?"
Steve nodded, his expression serious. "It hasn't, but I had to drop something off, and I'll be heading out again soon," he explained. "Mostly things had been wrapped up, just one last loose end."
"Alright, good to hear," Bucky said, acknowledging the update.
Steve's brows knitted together, his lips curving into a frown. "You look a little disheveled. What were you doing?" he asked, his suspicion evident in his tone.
"We were training," you chimed in, your voice steady, a lie slipping from your lips without hesitation. The lie rolled off your tongue with ease, and technically, it wasn't entirely false – you and Bucky had indeed been ‘sparring’ earlier.
"Oh, I see." Steve nodded, seeming satisfied with your explanation. "I'm glad you're getting some one-on-one time.”
"It was a pretty intense session," Bucky replied, his tone flat, his eyes avoiding Steve's scrutinizing gaze. You couldn't help but conceal a smile; indeed, it had been an incredibly intense workout, but not in the way Steve was imagining.
Steve raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Well, alright. As long as it was a good workout," he said, his tone carrying a hint of suspicion, although he ultimately seemed to dismiss his concerns, not pressing further.
Steve then turned his attention to you, his expression laden with guilt. "Y/N, about the mission..." He hesitated, clearly burdened by a sense of responsibility, though you knew all too well there was nothing he could have done differently.
Your patience wore thin, not this again, you thought, feeling your mood sour. "It's okay, Steve," you said, your tone carrying a hint of annoyance. "I know it wasn't your fault."
Steve managed a smile, though the unease lingered in his eyes. "Thanks, but I still feel responsible."
"Drop it, Steve. It really wasn't your fault," you insisted, your tone firm.
Sensing the conversation wasn't going anywhere productive, you decided to retreat to your room, especially now that Bucky seemed to have reverted to his usual self and showed no intention of continuing the discussion you'd been having.
"Well, I guess I should get going. See ya later," you said, offering a half-hearted wave before making your exit. As you walked away, a sense of disappointment settled in your chest.
You could barely walk, your thighs aching as you began to walked away. Unbeknownst to you, Steve's eyes followed your limping form, "What the hell happened to her?" he wondered aloud, his concern evident. You blushed deeply, hastening your pace in an attempt to avoid further scrutiny.
Overhearing Steve's question, Bucky replied, his tone nonchalant, "Don't know."
Once you made it to your room, you sighed in relief as you closed the door behind you. You flopped down on the bed, burying your face in the pillow.
"I can't believe we just had sex in the gym," you mumbled to yourself, your voice muffled by the soft fabric of the pillow. Replaying the events in your head, you couldn't help but wonder about Bucky's behavior. "Why does he act differently around the team and then like this with me? What's his problem? Does he want me, or does he not want to be seen with me? Is he ashamed of me?"
You're worried that the whole "fuck and don't talk" thing is going to be the new thing. You couldn't help but wish it wouldn't happened in the future. It was great sex, but it would be even greater if there were actual feelings involved.
"What do I do?" You asked the pillow, knowing the inanimate object wouldn't respond. Exhausted from both the training session and your ‘sparring’ with Bucky was tiring you even more, you decided to take a nap, planning to contemplate your next steps once you had some rest.
The nap was short-lived when a soft knock echoed through the room. You rolled over in bed, and then you heard, "Y/N, are you asleep?" Wanda's gentle voice seeped through the door, causing you to frown as you sat up.
Recognizing it was Wanda, you got up from your bed and opened the door. "Oh, sorry, you were indeed asleep," she remarked, noticing your hair messed up. "I apologize for waking you up."
"I wanted your help," she said, her fingers fidgeting as she sat on the edge of your bed. "Vision's birthday is in two days," she explained, leaving you wondering how this concerned you. "And I want to give him something nice."
You let her finish, nodding in understanding. "I want to buy him this present, but I'm embarrassed," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
You furrowed your brow, trying to grasp her dilemma. "Embarrassed?" you prodded, waiting for her to elaborate.
"I've never been to a sex store, I've never bought... you know... that sort of thing before. I thought if you could help me, it would be a bit less awkward," Wanda confessed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
You were taken aback by her request, feeling both bewildered and unsure how to respond. "A sex store?"
She blushed deeper, her words tumbling out in a rush, "Well, Vision and I have been experimenting, and we've tried a lot of things. There's something new I want to try-"
"Wait, wait, wait," you interrupted, raising your hand to stop her. "I don't want to know any details.” You put a hand on her shoulder. "What you do with Vis is your business, and I'm glad that you're both happy."
You continued, your confusion apparent, "Wanda, why are you asking me to help you? Why don't you ask Natasha?" You hesitated, admitting your own unease about the situation. The idea of going to a sex store was equally embarrassing to you.
"I trust you," Wanda said earnestly. "I love Natasha, but sometimes she's too wild, you know? She'd probably buy me something that would end up on the Pornhub." Her reasoning made sense, and you recalled Natasha's tendency to be overly candid about her sex life.
"Besides," she added, "Natasha's on a mission, and she won't be back in time. By the time she and Vision return, it'll be too late." Her plea was both desperate and hopeful, and you couldn't help but empathize with her situation.
"Why can't you just go alone?” You inquired, trying to grasp her hesitation.
"It’s too embarrassing.” Wanda admitted, her eyes dropping to her lap. "People recognize me, and I'm worried about what they'll say, what they'll think." She hesitated before continuing, "I mean, people don't recognize you."
Ouch that hurt, but you knew what she meant.
Wanda quickly realized her blunder. "Y/N, I'm so, so sorry. I-I didn't mean it like that. You had a mask with your costume, and your name is a secret, so... I'm just nervous. I'm sorry," she apologized, her tone filled with regret.
You chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. "It's fine, I get what you mean," you reassured her, rubbing the back of your neck. "I don't like the idea of people recognizing me either."
There was a brief pause as you considered her request. "Um... I don't know, Wanda. It's not really my area," you said, hesitant about getting involved in such a personal matter.
"Please, Y/N. It would really mean a lot to me. I'm nervous about going by myself. I've never bought these kinds of things," Wanda pleaded.
You were about to decline her request when she dropped a bombshell. "I wasn't going to use this on you, but you leave me no choice," she said, her tone taking a sly turn.
"Uh, okay? What did you see?" you asked, frowning in confusion.
"You and Bucky," she smirked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "I know all about the secret affair."
Your heart skipped a beat as you heard her words. Trying to maintain your composure, you feigned innocence. "What secret affair?" you responded, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Wanda continued to wear that knowing smirk. "I saw you and Bucky in the gym," she added, not letting you off the hook.
You swallowed hard, feeling your pulse quicken. "Oh, we were just sparring," you said, attempting to provide a reasonable explanation, though your voice sounded weaker than you had hoped.
Wanda gave you a look that said, 'Yeah, right.' "Sure, you were.” She continued to smirk, “If by mean sparring involving his tongue down your throat and his dick in you.”
Your eyes widened, and you stammered, "Wh-what?” Trying to play it off coolly, you added, “You must be mistaken. We didn't..."
Wanda chuckled, her amusement evident. “Don't lie to me. Bucky's eyes met mine." She teased, her playful demeanor breaking the tension in the room. She continued, "and you, my friend, looked so fucking hot."
You blushed harder, but you felt a bit proud, "Well, you can't blame me. Bucky's so hot and so damn sexy, he can make any girl go weak in the knees."
You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts, focusing on the more pressing issue at hand. "But seriously, how did you see us? Why aren't you on the mission? But Bucky said no one else entered the gym today." A flicker of confusion crossed your face as you recalled the locked door. "How did you even get in?"
Wanda chuckled, her amusement undeniably genuine. "Relax, you're like a storm of questions. Let me break it down for you." She leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes glinting with mischief. "First, the mission? Turns out, I'm a bit too unpredictable for Tony's taste. He thinks my powers might mess up the plan. So, here I am, stuck in the compound."
You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Tony Stark's cautious approach. Your sympathy for her situation grew.
"And about the gym door," she continued, her tone casual, "well, that's where my power come in handy. I can open any door with a wave of my hand and step right in, undetected."
"I'm sorry," you said sincerely. "About the mission, I mean. I couldn't go either. Maybe that makes you feel a bit better."
Wanda offered you a warm and forgiving smile. "No need to apologize," she said, dismissing your apology with a wave of her hand. Leaning in closer, her tone took on a mischievous edge. "Now, let me continue," she said with a sly grin. "I was getting ready for my gym session earlier, and then I heard some interesting sounds coming from this room. I peeked in, saw you and Bucky having a heated argument, and I was about to step in."
You squirmed in your seat, mortified by her revelation.
Wanda continued with a sly grin, relishing the opportunity to tease you. "And then... he kissed you," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "and I instantly knew things were about to get intense. It was quite the show by the way,"
Your face turned various shades of red as you tried to process her unexpected presence during such an intimate moment.
She chuckled, her tone playful. "But here's the kicker, after Bucky noticed me, he didn't bother slowing down. He kept on kissing into you, while he was looking at me. That's when I decided it was my cue to make a graceful exit.”
You were taken aback by that revelation. "Wait so you only saw us kissing? You didn't see what happened next?" you asked.
Wanda raised an eyebrow and nodded. "That's right, just the kissing. But the way you were moaning, I had a pretty good idea of where things were headed."
You hid your face in your hands, unable to shake the embarrassment that had washed over you. "Wanda, you witch!" She was playing you so good. She was just guessing about it. If you played it cool, maybe you could salvage the situation. After all, Wanda didn't know the extent of your involvement with Bucky.
"What? Am I wrong?" she said, grinning slyly.
"Maybe?"
"Liar, I know I'm not." She said. “Now I know you fucked each other.” she concluded, raising an eyebrow mischievously, thoroughly enjoying the newfound power dynamic.
"Okay, we were caught in the act," you sighed, defeated. You blushed a little, "What are you going to do about it? Tell on us?"
"I'm not going to tell anyone about you lovebirds, if that's what you're worried about," Wanda assured, her expression surprisingly understanding, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
Your embarrassment surged again, "Lovebirds? We're not..." you began, attempting to deny any romantic involvement.
She cut you off with a knowing grin. "Oh, please. I've seen enough romantic tension to recognize it when I see it. And you two? Well, let's just say, your 'sparring session' was more intense than any training I've witnessed."
"But it was probably a one-time thing." You tried to sound nonchalant, but even you knew it was a stretch. "That's just physical attraction. Nothing more."
"Really?" Wanda gave you a skeptikal looks. "It looked like there was something more going on between the two of you than just fucking. I saw the way he looked at you when no one was looking. It was different. Like you were his. Like he didn't want anyone to touch you, and you were his and only his."
"Wanda, are you serious?"
She nodded, "Yes! I know there's something more between you and Bucky, and I also know you have feelings for him, too."
You hesitated for a moment before admitting, "I don't know... we haven't talked about it." You sighed, "I don't think he wants more than just sex, anyway."
Wanda gave you a confused look, "Are you serious? Did he tell you that?"
You shook your head slowly. "Well, no, not really. He hasn't mentioned anything, and it's not like we've had the chance to discuss our relationship."
"Well, I'm not supposed to tell you this. Bucky will kill me if he finds out, but I'm going to say it anyway," she confessed. You chuckled inwardly, the most powerful Avenger, being cautious of Bucky.
Intrigued, you leaned in closer, your curiosity piqued. "What's going on?"
Wanda continued, "He told me not to tell you that I saw you two kissing because he didn't want you to worry about it. And when I asked where you were, he said you were probably sleeping, and I should let you be."
"He said that?" You felt your heart swell. You could feel the butterflies in your stomach.
Wanda nodded, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Yes, and that's why I'm sure there's more to it. I can see it in his eyes. I know he has feelings for you."
"He does? How did you know?"
"Y/N, I know people. I can read his mind if you want, but that would be an invasion of his privacy," Wanda explained, her tone reassuring yet firm.
"Yeah, of course. I won't let you do that," you quickly responded, appreciating her respect for boundaries. "But thanks, Wanda. I appreciate you telling me."
"Now, let's go back to my problem.” she said, steering the conversation back to her original request. “Come on, Y/N, please help me go to the sex store.”
You hesitated, considering her request. Then an idea struck you. "How about we just order online?" you suggested. "That way, neither of us has to go near the place. We can discreetly make the purchase online."
"That does sound like a better plan," she nodded eagerly. Then, with a hint of desperation in her voice, she added, "But, please, make sure it's addressed to you and not me. I really don't want anyone to know I made that purchase," she implored.
You raised a valid concern. "What about me? People will still find out if it's shipped to me."
Wanda leaned in, her voice low and reassuring. "But they don’t know your real name, Y/N. No one knows except us and the Avengers."
You sighed, feeling a mixture of annoyance and reluctant agreement. "Fine," you conceded, rolling your eyes. "It will be addressed to me. But please, Wanda, promise me you will keep your mouth shut."
"Of course, Y/N, you can trust me. I won't breathe a word to anyone," Wanda assured you with a genuine sincerity. "Your secret's safe with me, I swear."
Relieved, you allowed a small smile. In response, she beamed, pulling you into a tight hug. "Thank you, Y/N! You're the best person ever!" she exclaimed, squeezing you with enthusiasm.
You chuckled awkwardly. "You're welcome, I guess." Returning the hug, you hoped that your decision wouldn't lead to unexpected complications.
She broke the hug, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I'll send you the link later," she said, her tone tinged with excitement. Rising to her feet, she continued, "I'll leave you to rest now. You must be exhausted after your workout, aren't you?" She smirked knowingly, her gaze flickering towards the door, "And I bet Bucky play a big part on it too, didn't he?"
"Shut up." You grabbed a nearby pillow and playfully tossed it at her. She dodged it with a laugh before heading towards the door.
"Bye, Y/N," she called out, her voice fading as she exited the room.
Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but smile at her audacious attitude. She was certainly something, and you knew this secret shopping mission of hers was bound to be an adventure.
You stepped into the shower to get rid of the smell of sweat. The water hit your back and you felt so relaxed, your hand trailed down between your legs, you thought about how good it felt to have his cock inside of you, how he fucked you in the gym.
You stepped on the shower to get ride of the smell of sweat and sex that Bucky left you with. When the cold water touched your skin, it brought you back to the real world.
"Ow! Ow! Shit, shit!" You said under the shower and quickly turned it into warm water. "I forgot how much this place is always cold." You whispered, and began washing your hair and body.
Now you felt relax as the water fell on your head and back. The memory of the moment that happened not even an hour ago played on your mind, like a movie. 'That's right doll, take my cock' and the sound of his low and raspy voice echoed on your head.
Your hand trailed down your body, and when you got to your pussy, you rubbed your clit. "Fuck" you hissed.
You could feel your arousal growing as you started fingering yourself. You leaned your head against the shower wall and moaned his name. You thought about how good it felt to have his mouth all over your neck and body.
The water was hot and steamy, but not enough to cover your moans. Your breathing was ragged and uneven. You imagined it was Bucky who was there with you, touching you. You closed your eyes and tried to recall every detail of the encounter.
Your fingers were now deep inside your pussy, pumping hard and fast. You could still feel his tongue on your clit, licking and sucking. You knew he liked to watch you squirm.
You could feel your orgasm building, the pressure in your stomach was getting stronger and stronger.
"Cum for me, doll." He whispered in your ear.
"Bucky! Fuck!" You screamed. You arched your back, your eyes rolling back. Your whole body shook with pleasure, waves of pleasure coursed through your veins.
You stood under the shower and breathed deeply. You didn't want to move, the hot water felt nice against your skin. But eventually you got out, wrapped yourself in a towel, and walked to the mirror. "God, look at that" you said, examining your neck.
There was a hickey where Bucky had sucked on it, and another one on your chest. It was too obvious for the others to see, but you didn't mind. You enjoyed it, and the memory made you smile.
As you saw yourself smiling like a fool, you slapped your cheeks lightly, "No, Y/N. Get a hold of yourself. You are not doing this again." But you knew you wanted to do it again.
As you dressed and settled on the bed, your phone chimed, and you saw Wanda sent you a link. Tapping on the link and the site appeared on your phone. You saw a variety of different vibrators and dildos and other stuff.
You tapped on the vibrator and it was in different colors. Black, red, pink, purple, etc.
"Oh wow." you breathed, your eyes widening as you scrolled through the available choices. As you delved deeper into the product descriptions, your intrigue grew.
'Great for solo or partnered play, its shape is flexible so it can be inserted easily, the base is wide enough so it won't slip out and the curved end is made to hit your g-spot, this vibrator is the best and you can't go wrong with it, you will always get pleasure and will leave you satisfied.'
You scrolled through the page, your eyes widening at the sheer array of options. " Jesus Christ, there are so many," you muttered, marveling at the variety.
You didn't know what to pick. So, you decided to take a screenshot and sent it to Wanda. "Wanda, I'm so confused. Which one should I pick?" You texted her. "What kind do you want? The purple one? Or the black and white one?"
Her response came swiftly. "Get both, also the lingerie. Oh, and make sure to get some lube, I need a lot for the toys," she texted back.
"Damn, Wanda, I didn’t know you were such a naughty girl," you mumbled to yourself, amused by her boldness.
"Ugh, gross, I’m going to need therapy after this," you quickly replied, feeling a mix of amusement and horror.
"And I need to bleach my eyes after seeing you two," she replied, her response laced with playful sarcasm.
You chuckled and continued browsing the website. "So much stuff. How can people use all these? Is this the kind of thing people use?" You whispered. You couldn't help but wonder which ones Bucky might enjoy.
There was this one that caught your attention. You clicked on the image, the vibrator popped open, and a description appeared. It was an eight-inch g-spot vibrator and anal vibrator with a remote control. It was a dual action toy that stimulated both the vagina and the anus.
'This 8 inch dual action toy is an ultra powerful vibrator that delivers powerful stimulation to both the vagina and the anus. The soft and silky material makes it a perfect beginner's toy, and its strong motor and wide bulbous tip makes it great for experienced users too.
With a curved end that will hit your g-spot and an insertable length of 8 inches, it's sure will give you a powerful sensation and will leave you screaming in pleasure. It also has a strong motor and 15 different speed and vibration patterns.
This toy is also waterproof, so you can enjoy it in the bath or the shower.'
Then you saw a video of a woman using it. The sounds were really loud and it sounded like it was being used for the first time. "How can she handle all that noise? It sounds like a jet taking off." You thought, watching the video.
Wanda's text jolted you back to reality. "Have you picked the items yet? I'm waiting," she inquired, her impatience coming through.
"Yeah, I already put them in the cart. I'm about to buy them."
"Okay, thank you! Good night!" she messaged, her excitement palpable.
"Good night," you responded.
Exhaustion began to weigh on you, your eyelids growing heavier by the moment. You were utterly spent, and as you settled into the comfort of your bed, sleep swiftly claimed you.
The next day, you woke up early, your throat was dry, scratchy, and sore. Part of it was Bucky's fault, he fucked your throat too rough hitting the back of your throat.
He's a beast.
You then recalled, ‘you loved choking on my cock huh?’ As Bucky's dirty words rang in your ear. You had to admit, that was the best blow job you've ever given. You didn't know why, but something about the fact that he was using your mouth for his own pleasure excited you. You found yourself wanting to please him.
"Fuck." You groaned, burying your face in the pillow, the darkness soothing your sore eyes.
You walked into the kitchen to get some water, you took the bottle of water from the fridge and drank it. You wondered if Bucky stayed to keep an eye on you and Wanda since now both of you were considered as a threat.
You still haven't discussed about what happened with Bucky. What's the relationship now? Were you just fuck buddies? Was that one-time thing? Or does he want more? Your heart raced at the thought of having more with him, you've never been in a relationship before, but with him? That sounds amazing.
After finishing your water and tossing the empty bottle into the trash, you decided to pay a visit to Bucky's room. However, when you arrived, you found his bed empty. Disappointment washed over you, and you wondered if he had been called away on a mission.
As you exited Bucky's room, you bumped into Wanda. "Morning, babe," she greeted you cheerfully.
"Hey, Wanda. Have you seen Bucky?" you inquired.
"Yeah, he's in the gym," she replied with a knowing smile.
"Great, thanks," you said, feeling a renewed sense of hope. You exchanged a few quick words with Wanda before she set off for the market to gather supplies for the day's meals, and you headed off to find Bucky. Wanda wished you luck before parting ways.
You went to the gym to see Bucky. When you reached there, the gym was empty, there was no one there.
“Bucky?” you called.
"Yeah?" His response came as he walked out, wearing only a towel. Despite the serious conversation on your mind, you couldn't help but steal a glance at the way his abs looked after the shower, water still dripping down his torso. "What's up? You good?" Bucky asked.
"Yeah, I'm okay.” You said, clearing your throat in an attempt to regain your composure. "Just wanted to talk."
"About?"
"Us," you said, meeting his eyes. "About what happened last night." He had an unreadable expression, the look on his face didn't make it seem like he was happy about this conversation.
Bucky let out a sigh, his face expressing a clear desire to avoid the topic. "Y/N, can we not? I'm not in the mood." He began putting on his clothes, his movements brisk and uneasy. He clearly uncomfortable with the conversation at hand.
But you couldn't let it go. The events of the previous night hung between you, an unspoken question begging for an answer. "No, Bucky, we can't just ignore it. I know things have been weird between us," you began, "What does it mean for us? I mean, is it going to happen again?"
He ran a hand through his damp hair, his jaw clenched. "Y/N, stop." He warned, his tone growing stern for you to drop the conversation.
You sighed, looking at him with sad eyes. "Why are you doing this? Why do you keep pushing me away?" You asked, your voice determined, refusing to let the matter rest.
"I don't want to talk about this." he hissed, his patience fraying as he continued to dress, his movements becoming more agitated. "I have important stuff to do right now, so no."
"I want to know why the fuck you're acting this way!" you snapped, getting frustrated with his behavior. "Stop being a dick and just tell me. Are we going to do this again or what? What does this mean for us, huh? Is it a one-time thing or something more?” you demanded, raising your voice.
"God damnit Y/N! Just fucking stop! What's wrong with you?!" He yelled, his frustration boiling over. "Just fucking leave.”
Your heart sank, but you refused to back down. "No, not until you explain what our relationship is now," you insisted, your voice steady, though your hands trembled with the intensity of your emotions.
His glare could have frozen hell over, his eyes radiating cold anger, "We are not in a relationship. We have nothing. Do you understand? Nothing." he stated bluntly, his gaze piercing through you as he threw his duffle bag to the floor in a fit of frustration, its contents spilling out.
The look in his eyes...there was no emotion there. Just the cold stare of someone who no longer cared, and it felt like a stab to the chest. "You want to talk? Fine. Let's fucking talk. We fucked, that's it. It was a fucking mistake.”
The impact of his words hit you like a bullet to the chest. You felt a lump form in your throat, choking back the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "What…?" holding his glare as you tried to mask the hurt in your expression. This was worse than any outcomes you had ever imagined.
"A mistake, Y/N. I shouldn't have done that. It was a bad idea. It happened because I was stressed and needed to release some steam." His voice growing colder, "it was the only thing that got my mind off of everything.”
The finality of his words sinking in. “It was a fucking mistake. You happened to be there and I happened to be horny. We fucked. End of the story. Nothing else. Now fucking leave."
You had expected this to be just a one-time thing, and you thought you could handle that. But what he said was far worse, leaving you feeling utterly devastated, the weight of his rejection crushing you.
"I just happened to be there for you to fuck? To release your steam? You think of me that way?" You asked him.
He remained silent, refusing to look at you, his gaze fixed on the floor. Why were you still standing here, allowing him to strip away your dignity? Yet, a part of you desperately clung to the hope for an answer.
Every word carved a deeper wound into your heart, yet you pressed on. "No, I need an answer," you insisted, your voice growing more desperate. "Was it just sex?”
He met your question with a nonchalant shrug, his indifference cutting deeper than any rejection. "That's all it was. Yes."
"So, it meant nothing, I'm just another girl you fucked?" you asked, the pain in your voice evident as you tried to make sense of his words.
He continued to re-packing his bags, "What more do you want me to say, Y/N?" he retorted, his anger rising once again. "That I made a mistake? That I fucked up? That I regret it? There, happy? Or do you want to hear me tell you that I used you?"
Your heart broke into a million pieces as the truth of his words struck you like a hammer to the chest. You had given your heart to him, only for him to break it. You couldn't speak, could barely breath.
"It meant nothing to me, Y/N," he continued, his voice filled with disgust. "It was a moment of weakness, and it should never have happened."
You wanted to scream, to lash out, to strike him, but instead, you stood there in silence, unable to move. Bucky's words were like daggers, piercing your heart, leaving a deep wound that would never heal. You felt numb, the pain and betrayal too much for your body and mind to handle. You knew that you would never be the same, that a part of you would always be broken.
"I thought we had a connection." You asked, your voice small, the tremor betraying your vulnerability.
His response, devoid of any sympathy or remorse, struck like a knife to your heart. "Well, you were fucking wrong. You're a fucking mistake, Y/N. You should have known better than to expect anything from me. Now get the fuck out of my sight."
The finality of his words was a slap to your face, the sting of his rejection leaving a deep, jagged scar across your heart. You would never forget his words, or the way he looked at you, his eyes filled with hatred and disdain.
You couldn't comprehend why he was acting like this. Was this the real him? He was cold, emotionless, completely different from the person you thought you knew in the gym, making you question whether the person who had shared that passionate moment with you was real.
You should've known better. You shouldn’t listen to Wanda on the first place, her suggestion was ridiculous and it led to this mess. Your heart was broken, the pain was unbearable. You were alone.
You had no one.
But the rawness of the rejection stung. It was time to leave, to salvage what remained of your wounded pride and self-respect.
"Fuck you, Barnes.”
"You already did, sweetheart.” You saw a slight smirk, “Unless you want more, I can give you that. You have a body to die for.”
Fed up with his disrespectful attitude, you turned to leave, your hand gripping the doorknob. However, something compelled you to turn back and confront him. As you faced him again, you noticed his gaze lingering on you, catching a flicker of something in his eyes, perhaps regret? But then, his expression hardened once more returned to its cold, distant state.
Summoning your strength, you said, "You really know how to hurt people, Barnes."
Bucky's response was laced with bitterness and self-awareness, acknowledging the pain he had caused, "I know, I'm a master of it." He said without looking at you with expression that you couldn't quite read, as if he wanted to say something more. Yet, he remained silent.
The room grew quiet, a heavy silence settling between the two of you, neither one willing to speak first. After what felt like an eternity, you averted your gaze, your eyes glistening with unshed tears, and whispered your farewell. "Goodbye, Barnes." With that, you turned on your heel and walked out, the door slamming shut behind you, the sound echoing the finality of the moment.
As you left the gym, your steps heavy and your heart heavier, the weight of the emotional wounds settled in. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you made your way back to your room. There, behind a locked door, you allowed your emotions to spill out. You collapsed onto the bed, your sobs echoing in the room. You didn't know how long you cried, but it was enough time for your head to hurt. You wiped your tears, feeling the exhaustion set in.
Bucky was mean, he was really mean. You thought he had changed but apparently not. Not anyone was capable of changing. As you cried, you made a silent promise to yourself: you wouldn't let him hurt you again.
E/N : I apologize for leaving you hanging with another cliffhanger, but I didn't want to make Part 2 too lengthy and risk boring you. I acknowledge it might not be as good as Part 1, and for that, I apologize. Rest assured, I'll make it worth the wait in Part 3 (I promise)! On a positive note, who's excited for the groveling trope? I certainly am! Get ready for some intense moments! intense moments ahead!
All the sub-plot with Wanda will start to make sense in Part 3 as it intertwines, and you can expect some moments of jealousy and possessiveness from Bucky as well.
Don't forget to show your support by leaving likes and comments; I'd love to hear your thoughts! 😊📚
Taglist:
@vicmc624 @am-3-thyst @barnesandsteven @naeenae @rainy-day-lady @nouk1998 @cl7ire @oneofthedyingpoets @dnovastark @waywardhunter95
If you want to be added/removed, just let me know!
#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes angst#marvel x reader
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User hamatoanne's fic plagiarism
Hello, I’m the author of The Android, an AO3 Robot OC x Reader fic that was plagiarized by hamatoanne on Tumblr in her Aemond x Reader story, System Error. You can read my AO3 post for more info about the issue. As you can tell by the timestamps on AO3 and the screenshots of her now-deleted story, mine was posted months before hers. I didn’t want to make this public, but it appears Anne has not learned her lesson and is grasping at straws to keep her readers in the dark. She’s been deleting her stories to hide evidence of her plagiarism. I think you deserve to know who your beloved writer gets her words from.
I don’t know this fandom, but I’ve heard you guys can get pretty crazy. Control yourselves. The only one who needs to take responsibility is Anne. Don’t send hate to her mutuals. Don’t send hate to her followers. Don’t stalk or harass or dox anyone. Read through this post and form your opinion.
First bunch of screenshots: A side-by-side comparison of her story (now deleted) and mine (still up and linked above). I took screenshots in advance in case something like this happened so I’d have proof if I needed it. I decided to compare the first chapter of my fic with the first part of hers. I could do the whole thing, but I’m a busy college student and I think just a quick skim of the pictures below is enough for people to see the extent of her plagiarism.
I have screenshots of her entire post, but I don’t want to make this too long to scroll through and Tumblr posts cap at 30 pictures. I’m assuming some of you have already read her story multiple times, so you’re familiar with the words. If you haven’t, then I should warn you that the fic that she plagiarized is very not SFW. I’ll let you know where the not SFW content starts so you can skip it.
On the left is my story. On the right is what Anne posted (and took down).
Not SFW content starts here.
Not SFW content over.
Finally, I DM’ed her. This was just before I posted to The Android on AO3 about the situation. To summarize, I wrote about how I would go about the situation and how hurt I was about a bigger creator stealing from me. I admit, I was too kind and too much of a pushover. I just wanted things to go quietly. She later replied with this and deleted her fic immediately.
“I was completely stupid for not giving your credit” Why do they always play dumb? You copy that much and can’t even think to put my name there? You credit the artist but not the person who basically wrote your whole story? The story that gave you over 3k notes, so much more clout than any of your other stories has earned you? Total BS.
“I had every intention of giving credit where it was due…But I forgot” Right. Sure. Of course. If she felt guilty about plagiarizing, she would not be so shameless to accept praise like she did. I have examples of where she happily thanked people for complimenting "her work”, but didn’t want to bring other blogs into this, especially since they were none the wiser to her plagiarism. Ironically enough, someone even gifted her a badge for being a good writer the day she replied to my DM. She tagged that post “#a breath of fresh air on a horrible day”. I wonder why her day was horrible. Whoever gifted her that badge deserves their money back.
My thoughts when approaching her DMs were:
If she wants to keep up the story? Fine, just edit the post to say that it was heavily influenced by my story and leave a link to the original. I don’t mind. The readers will see that, click my story, compare the two, and think, “Hey, that’s not just inspiration! She plagiarized!” and her downfall would start from there without me having to do anything.
If she ignored me and didn’t fulfill that request, i would take matters into my own hands and expose her on her own post. Even more damaging.
In the end, she chose to delete the post entirely, getting rid of the evidence and her clout. I actually didn’t expect this outcome since I thought she’d like the clout too much, but I guess she decided this route would be the least damaging to her reputation. Everything was swept under the rug for now.
And like a fool, I said thanks and went on with my life. But I decided to keep track of her. Because while I was too cowardly to do anything, I knew there would always be someone in the crowd who would take action. And it seems like people did.
After reading the supportive comments from readers of my fic, I started to regret how lightly I handled it. I wanted to be mature even though I wanted her entire blog to fall and her reputation taken away. But I didn’t want to be a “bad person”. I wondered if I should keep pursuing the issue. I realized that my overly-people-pleasing behavior might lead her to continue her ways. I decided to speak out because others might’ve had their works taken by her and that my silence wasn’t helping.
Next is her post, now deleted (I wonder why), about how she’s been so sad and how she’s going to be deleting her old stories and starting over. I’m likely not the only one she’s plagiarized from if she’s deleting other stories. At the time, I only saw supportive replies and reblogs on it, but maybe she deleted it after people started calling her out? Idk.
She’s playing the victim game pretty hard. Acting as a kind underdog even though she’s the big creator who stole from a nobody like me. I know I said on my AO3 update that people shouldn’t send hate to her (and even censored her name after she deleted her story) but I guess I’m a little happy that people sought to call her out on her shit. I wish I was as brave.
Later, a nice person (we’ll call her Bob because she asked to remain anonymous) DM’ed me directly with a kind message. After seeing this, I decided I should take action and expose all of this since Anne obviously hasn’t learned and wants to keep it all hidden. Bob confirmed that I’m not the only victim of Anne’s plagiarism either.
Bob asked that I not use screenshots of our DM’s so here is a transcription of the important parts:
“Hey! I just found out that one of your fics had been plagiarized by someone in the HOTD community. First of all, I am tremendously sorry that happened…”
(For Bob’s privacy, I won’t explain her relation to Anne. Just know that Anne has refused to message her back).
“I definitely think you should make a blog post. with side by side comparison. I am still completely gobsmacked that she pilfered your entire story word for word and changed a few things. We found evidence that she had plagiarized multiple stories. Not just yours. We found out her mermaid!aemond fic was entirely stolen as well as a few others. She has quietly deleted them and hasn't spoken on them since.”
“We surmised that she takes ‘underrated’ fics from different fandoms and changes the name and that's it. It's almost like she believed that stealing from other fandoms was going to draw less attention than stealing directly from the HOTD fandom.”
So if you noticed that one of your favorite Aemond fics is gone, now you know why.
‘But benny, she still wrote her own sentences and just changed it around to fit aemond!’
Fanfiction is transformative. You know what the source material is and who created it. You know you’re not reading a copied and pasted text with maybe some words and sentences switched around. This wasn’t fanfic. According to Google, plagiarism is defined as, “the practice of taking someone else's work or ideas and passing them off as one's own.” (See what I did there? I credited Google. Is it so hard to give credit where credit is due?) She copied people's work, didn't give credit to the source material, and claimed it as her own. That's plagiarism.
I wouldn’t have had a problem if she properly credited me and linked the original story. I wouldn’t have had a problem if she didn’t blatantly copy and paste the entire text and premise. I wouldn’t even require getting permission to write a story based on my fic if she had satisfied those conditions.
She’s a 27-year-old grown-ass woman with enough free time to simp over some blond guy with an eyepatch. I’m a 21-year-old college student who only posts fics during the summer and winter because that’s when school’s on break. I’m too busy writing lab reports and essays to be an active writer online. The fact that she can disrespect smaller writers so tremendously should not be acceptable. The fact that she also deceived her devoted readers and friends about her "works" is also unacceptable.
What can you do about this? To be honest, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had to deal with this before. I want to be a good person and say, “Don’t send any hate to Anne, don’t harass her. Just unfollow her and stop supporting her.” But that obviously hasn’t taught her anything. She’ll just make a half-assed apology, maybe go on hiatus, maybe disappear, and then pop up again under another name to steal from another creator. If you have any ideas on how to deal with this, please tell us.
She can try to block me or delete her posts, but the evidence is out and the damage is done. Anything she does to hide this mess will only make it worse for her. I’d appreciate people bringing more awareness to this issue, especially if it can reach the eyes of others she’s taken from.
Thanks for reading.
#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond x reader#hotd#house of the dragon#reader fanfiction#prince aemond#plagiarism#android x reader#robot x reader#ao3#aemond and reader smut
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‼️ PLEASE READ THIS ‼️
warning for grooming(?)/racism
this isnt my typical content, a bit of a lengthy post so i apologize for the misuse of tags but i really need this to reach the right people. i put a ? beside grooming because im not exactly sure if this can be called that, this is just a really icky situation..
not entirely sure how to go about these kinds of posts.. i should have been less hesitant about speaking out about an issue like this, this post should have been made sooner. was a little worried that this wouldnt reach the right people and labeled just a bunch of lies but the issue is significantly more important than my worries of what people will think..
a person i know came into contact with an artist on insta, one that's i’d say pretty active in the outlast trials community, going by the user of ouvragesdepenny. im going to leave this person completely anonymous, but he is 17 and penny is 26. this is a 9 year age gap, and quite frankly they should not be saying the things that they have said to a him.
for him, there were some unsavory jokes that he made, i won’t deny that. but if anything comes out about some things that he said i will happily try to explain the best that i can..
screenshots for proof will always be shown under these providing context the best that i can give.








again, really unsure how to go about posts like these so if anyone has any questions i’ll try to answer the best i can
sorry if anything is repeated, i screenshotted this from a doc i made a bit ago and tumblrdoesnt let me view the photos after ive picked them. if anything is confusing please ask me and i’ll try my best to answer questions..
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Lore topics I enjoy thinking about for Mass Effect Trilogy Week:
Biotics: I remember countless conversations about biotics that made me look at the wiki to check my information, replay parts of the game and in general pay attention to how it all works out. I still think there are many things about them that I don't understand right now, and that's why I love it. It makes you think! Each species will deal with it in a different way too, they have their own history with their biotics and how they use them. For humans, L2 biotics like Kaidan are always a source of wonder to me. Sure, you can picture a badass biotic like Aria and 100% she showed extreme power during the Omega DLC so that's really fascinating to me as well, but to have those implants and to be able to master Reave?! I also think the lore is not... as solid as it could be regarding how each species treats their biotics. It sometimes feels like a bit of a X-Men situation (they're different, others fear them, possible medical issues...) but it's like the writers don't want to deal with the full implications. And I really wish we could have seen a bit more artistic/cultural displays of biotics. Btw, my biotic sports headcanons are here
Lifespan: I love that each species has a different lifespan and that it really shows in how they live their lives. An asari will not look at their youth like a salarian. Honestly, I'm mad at myself because someone wrote about this in the tag and made a good commentary on it and I can't find the post again. It was about how salarians process thoughts and feelings compared to other species. I hope I can find it soon, and if so I'll reblog it. It's always a fascinating topic!
Artificial intelligence: Geth, EDI and other AIs like SAM are what I mean here. I really do think the topic of designing your own platform should come out more in this universe. I've said it a billion times before but I really want EDI to design her own platform. And I really have no answer, but I have found that all the meta about Legion was always thought-provoking. Was does individuality mean? Does Legion need individuality? Does he need to say "I" or was he better as a collective, as something "other" that was just fine as it was, but we humans just find more meaning in him becoming an individual? Even the words I use here, I'm fully aware I use "he" all the time when refering to Legion, and sometimes I wonder if that's good or not. I don't know.
Justice system: I've made one big post about it (9 years ago haha), but I really find the Spectres fascinating, as well as each species' version of judges/soldiers/spies/agents/workers etc. And prisons.
The trade language: EVERYWHERE in the game and we have so little information compared to the Quarian's language???
And my favorite lore: everything related to the krogan. I really think it ties to what Bakara says about being her Shaman's initiation being a brutal one "But an illuminating one. You learn to appreciate the light by living in the dark." I love that their species not because they're perfect but because they're imperfect in a way that speaks to me. They understand despair, the deepest kind. They understand anger. And they're constantly underestimated. But I find a lot of beauty, joy and humor in them. I also love that they're rarely lying or playing games, they will tell you the honest truth and you either take it or leave it.
Will be happy to know your favorite parts of the lore!!!
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𝘽𝙍𝘼𝙕𝙄𝙇𝙄𝘼𝙉 𝙃𝙊𝙇𝙄𝘿𝘼𝙔



Synopsis : You’ve got it cut out for you as Japan’s top model, the constant flights, fittings, photo shoots and shows wear down on you and the world loves you but the love of 8 billion people will never amount to his. After finding yourself in an unfortunate situation in Rio de Janeiro, he sees you again but you’re two different people now, but maybe time is just a catalyst.
Tags : happy ending, friends to lovers, you and shoyo don’t see each other for years, complicated reunion, yearning, mutual pining, you hate him but not really
Warnings : mdni, mild angst, sexual content
Word count : 8.3k
Series mlist
Author's note : okay so I give every person who was waiting for this chapter a free pass to pinch me. I took so long to do this chapter because I was busy with school and everything for a while and then I really wanted this chapter to be what I envisioned in my head so I went through many trial and errors for this chapter and I’m so happy with how this chapter came out. I am sorry for the wait and I’m so thankful for those supporting this fic!! I hope you enjoy! ღ
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“Add some more there.”
Yume’s finger circled as she pointed to your under eyes. Her eyes squinted as she skimmed over your face, treating it as if it were a puzzle to be solved. “How early did you wake up this morning?”
“Pretty early, I’d say about six.” The lie fell effortlessly through your teeth.
An anxious gaze of your eyes followed her as you felt as if she would solve the puzzle soon as she crossed the room towards another table
“Why so early you went to bed late and woke up early for a shoot at a 2’ o clock?” The interrogation began as she rummaged through a makeup bag. She walked over, handing a tube over to the makeup artist quickly before turning her attention back to your makeup.
“Isn’t that a bit much for a beach shoot, she’s supposed to look more natural.” Tatsuki turned away from the clothes rack, to look at Yume; confusion spread across his features.
“Yes, well if she hadn’t woken up so early, maybe we wouldn't have to use so much corrector.”
You squirmed in your seat at the slight dig. You knew you should have gotten rest last night, and perhaps not sneak out of your hotel room at 1 A.M in the morning to do God knows what. You wish that even a small, miniscule piece of your memory stayed behind for you to remember what you were doing on your little stealth trip.
You had no memory of anything after talking to that woman on the beach and it caused fear to grow and rattle inside of your bones. How did you end up in the room of the one person you did not want to see on this earth, maybe all your luck had been thrown out the window, grown legs and ran far away from you. Well not too far as you had successfully sneaked back into your hotel room without getting caught, at 10:47 A.M at that. You're sure everyone was already up and about then and maybe the universe heard your cries because you were told later they went out for breakfast and “left” you to get some rest.
But your mind continued to race to piece the puzzle of how exactly you ended up there. You wondered if you went out to seek him when you were too intoxicated or did you suddenly remember the number you glanced at for 2 seconds before deleting when Tadashi sent you his new international number two days after he was gone.
You couldn’t possibly have remembered that number from 2 years ago. Perhaps you met him on the beach, maybe the ball rolled over to your feet as you were walking along the shore, maybe he ran up to you and spewed all these heartfelt words to you, apologies and declarations of lov–-stop.
A heavy sigh leaves you, your mind running in circles. Yume placed her phone down and looked at you as her eyebrow raised in curiosity at the sound of a sigh leaving you, “Are you still tired?”
You straightened your back in the chair, “No, I’m fine,” you reassured her, placing your bent foot that was perched upon the chair back down until you felt the cold tile under your toes.
“Why do you look like that?” Suspicion hinted in Yume’s sentence had you on edge, her eyebrows scrunching towards each other.
“How do I look?” You sat up even straighter to look into the vanity’s mirror quickly, afraid something was off.
The woman in front of you set down the fluffy brush she was just using along your cheeks, digging through the bag on the vanity in front, “You just look a bit sad—or lost in thought might be better.” She added on to Yume’s question before you heard a small squeal of excitement from her as she found the brush she was looking for.
“Ayumi, add a bit more highlight there– are you sad?” Yume’s head snapped to your direction, her blunt tone exhausting you even more.
You shook your head a slight pout on your lips at the sudden interrogation.
“Okay problem fixed.” Yume clapped her hands, “Ayumi finish up quickly, we need to get some shots before sunset.”
You walked along the sand of the same beach you had found solace in last night, you were much farther from others, the company renting out the end of the beach for the photoshoot, hidden enough to avoid any unnecessary commotion from the public.
The sheer white dress adorned on your body had you feeling every inch of the sun rays on your skin, the white bikini underneath shined through the thin fabric.
You felt excited for the warm clear waters to wash over your skin and indulge in the sounds of soft waves against your body.
Which is exactly what you did and you enjoyed every moment of it.
The sun had set and the warmth from the day lingered on your skin even as the night breeze started to pick up. The photoshoot had been successful, switching through 8 different outfits of the line and modeling in the sun had done nothing but tire you out. The sight of Mr. Iwasaki’s expressions every time you had modeled his fathers line gave you the energy to keep going, remembering the pure awe in his face as he voiced his excitement during the photoshoot—“It’s like they were made just for you!”
You smiled at his compliment, mutually expressing your awe at his pictures. The way he took pictures and directed the shoot today contributed to the success of today’s work.
As the staff wrapped up the set you could feel the humid air of the night against your cheeks as you changed into your clothes, overhearing them excitedly gush over the bars near the beach, leading to a decision that a celebration should occur tonight to celebrate a successful shoot. You believed they just wanted an excuse to drink but you couldn't blame them after their hard work and the fact that you had done something so irresponsible last night to end up drinking your memory away gnawed at your conscience.
“Alright let’s go here.” Tatsuki’s finger pointed to a spot on his phone. You contemplated the idea of joining them or going back to the hotel to catch up on your much needed rest but it couldn’t hurt to join them, you decided as your shoulders were already being pushed into the direction towards the more populated area of the beach.
Taking a longer route to the bar for the group to get a chance to enjoy the beach tired you out even further, your feet barely picking up off the sand. The familiar sight of people drinking and playing around lessened your fatigue but had you grimacing at the thought of your decisions last night and still wondering what you must have gotten up to after you had that lethal drink.
“Wow they’re good.” You heard a voice interrupt your thoughts as the group kept walking. Your eyes followed the line of sight that the group was looking at. A large net in the middle of a drawn out court for beach volleyball, two men on each side fighting to keep the ball in the air.
Your ears could hear the loud beats of your heart accelerating at the fact that you might run into the last person you wanted to see right now, you were afraid to run into him after you had escaped his apartment just this morning. You don’t remember ever meeting him under your intoxicated state and with a quick glance over the area, a mop of ginger hair was nowhere to be seen. Relief washed over you as your group walked further onto the beach to head to the bar on the lining of the street.
“Beach volleyball is very popular out here.” Mr Iwasaki chimed in as the group continued to watch the game even after passing by it.
“Wow, do you think we could catch a game while we’re here?” Tatsuki turned to his assistant stylist, and Yume.
“I’d love to, it looks intense.” Nao nodded back.
“Sure–which way to the bar again?” Yume turned to Mr. Iwasaki, not paying much mind to the topic at hand.
“Almost there.”
Hoping to get away from the constant chatter about volleyball and the men playing on the beach you headed to the restaurant bar's bathroom to avoid the conversation once the group was seated. You splashed your face with water, and rubbed your eyes hoping to rid the fatigue from your face, hoping that by the time you got back out there they’d stop with the volleyball talk and move on because you're almost sure you’ll have to hear of him soon.
“–sim, eles brincam muito lá embaixo.” [–yeah they play a lot down there]
You sat down picking up the last bits of what the waiter was saying to the group, internally groaning that they did not in fact move on from this topic.
“Sim, eles são muito bons, tem um cara do Japão aqui também — ninja shoyo, eles o chamam, ele é muito bom!”
[Yeah they're real good, there's a guy from japan here too —ninja Shoyo they call him, he's real good!] His voice exclaimed as he slammed the beers on the table. The water in your throat threatened to rise and choke you, almost killing you at the familiar name running out of the man's mouth. You tried to drown out Mr. Iwasaki's translation to the group and unfortunately for you, you had already understood a good bit of what the man was saying. Of course Shoyo Hinata is loved even thousands of miles away from home. Your eyes focus on the beer in front of you, tempting you to chug it down (and many more) and forget about him and everything having to do with him. You hear Yume’s small whisper to not drink too much for tonight and you nod, deciding to just nurse a lemonade until it’s time to head back to the hotel.
“Do you want another drink?” Taro, an intern under Mr. Iwasaki, asks you politely from the observation of your dismission towards the beers sitting on the table.
“Oh no, I’m good thank you,” Your head shakes gently, softly laughing, “I don’t drink much.”
The group beginning to become more loose from the non stop drinking laugh boisterously at your seemingly innocent decision, and all you could do was laugh along. You wondered how they planned to wake up for work tomorrow, feeling a bit grateful towards yourself and Yume that you didn't touch a drink tonight knowing you’d wake up feeling great tomorrow morning—the opposite of what you felt this morning.
“We should try to catch the ninja.” Mr. Iwasaki laughs as he slurs, his drink falling over the rim of his glass as his arms raise in excitement.
“It’s ninja Shoyo Sir and you should stop drinking now.” His assistant takes the glass from his hands and replaces it with water, “We can see him tomorrow, we should go home.”
You watch the man protest picking up a beer resting in front of him.
“Don’t you want to see the players volley on the beach and see Shoyo ninja guy.” Mr Iwasaki turns to you as he lets the incoherent sentence fall from his lips without a care in the world. His assistant sighs at his boss's second awful attempt at saying the man’s alias. You just wish they’d get over this and stop saying his name.
“No, I'm not quite interested in volleyball.” You smile back at him.
Yume sets down her glass on the table to look at you, “But you have friends in the sport—you go to their games…and you seemed quite interested as a teenager.” She rebutted your previous statement. You wonder whether you should just get up and leave and save yourself from this non stop conversation about the sport.
“I’m not interested in watching tomorrow,” You smile, trying to get away from the situation, “You guys should go without me tomorrow! I’m sure it'll be fun.”
After a few hours by the bar, Yume decides to head back to the hotel with you, leaving the others behind. You ignore their shouts about volleyball and hoping to see a game after work, hoping that tonight is the last you’ll have to hear about it.
Of course you’re continuously worked against by someone up there, as you overhear their chatter to stop by the beach after this fitting hoping to catch a game. You're not sure why they are all not tired out of their minds and not feeling the need to stay in their beds for the rest of the day after drinking to the point of liver failure last night. You end up getting dragged along despite your previous protests and constant reminders that you don’t like the sport and you’re not interested. All efforts are thrown away as Yume opens her mouth every time wondering if you have some sort of memory loss. You’re thankful that it seems as if she has it instead, not once recognizing his name.
You’re disguised once again, this time with a little more effort put in thanks to Tatsuki. You don't think wearing a long sleeved shirt is the best idea as the weather is hot and there are barely any people with a shirt on around you with sleeves. A cap and sunglasses were finally appropriate for the time of day and you were hidden enough to avoid any identification.
You’re sitting on a stone ledge, as others stand around and sit elsewhere. Your eyes catch him immediately as he's talking to a tall man towering over him. And in a second the noise around you falls flat, the world becomes silent and the sand under your feet feels like dispersed clouds.
It’s him. It’s Shoyo. And you can feel it in your bones, you’re homesick.
He looks well, healthy—happy. You want to see him closer. You want to see if he's been graced with freckles from the Brazilian sun, if his hair brushes into his eyes every now and then like it once did, if his lips are chapped from the constant hot weather.
From here, you can see the smile on his lips, serious but excited for his game. He’s tan and you can see his hard work straining through the sleeves of his shirt.
You watch him jump as he plays, that familiar feeling sneaking back into you. You hear the voices of awe from your staff and others in the crowd as they watch him jump at unbelievable heights in the sand.
“–did you see that?” You hear Nao, whisper breathlessly to Tatsuki. He can’t take his eyes off the game as he nods, eyes wide.
You think it’s unfair, even after all this time he’s still so beautiful and determined in a place so unfamiliar. But even so you share the same feeling as everyone else watching him, because he’s done it.
You don’t think you've even glanced at anyone else during the game, your eyes hidden under your sunglasses are stuck to him as if he's the only one on the beach. As he jumps and moves around you watch his tousled hair from his movement and you hug your knees wondering if the strands are still as soft.
You’re not aware of the game coming to an end, eyes still on him as he high fives the large man next to him in victory. A call of your name has you pulling out of your stupor. You look up to everyone else in your group standing up, some dusting the sand that trailed up their ankles. You stand up holding on to Nao’s hand, and you can see the excitement on her face from the game she watched.
Beach volleyball and Indoor Volleyball have so many differences, but Shoyo Hinata will always give that same feeling to everyone who watches him.
You’re ready to leave, if you get any closer to him you might kick sand at him or you might just cry and you have no energy to do either.
But you hear Tatsuki’s laughter and his following right behind. You turn slowly to see Mr. Iwasaki and Tatsuki speaking to him as if they’ve known each other since junior high and you wish they'd have a little more self awareness to not speak to an athlete right after his game. To your right Yume is getting impatient, she’s ready to head back to the hotel but you can see it in her shoulders and her relaxed eyebrows that she enjoyed the time she spent out here and the game she got to watch. You turn to her wanting to ask about plans for dinner but she shouts for both men from where she’s standing, grabbing the attention of the three men.
Out of all the times you’ve felt as if Yume was punishing you, this had to take the cake. You avert your eyes from the men and talk to Nao, hoping that he would barely spare a glance to Yume.
But instead he looks at the woman who just shouted, catching the attention of the men in front of him and he knows that face and he knows without a doubt the woman standing beside her in conversation with someone else is exactly who he thinks it is. He can feel his knees become weak, his cheeks becoming flushed at thought that you were here, you were here watching him play and he wants to walk up to you and he wants to talk non stop now that you're sober and he wants you to talk to him even if you tell him to get hit by a bus.
He’s unmoved as he watches you walk away with your assistant, some of the staff still moving slowly behind.
“We’re heading to Topo Do Barril, Good Game!” One of the men he was speaking to before, shouted to him as they walked off the beach in your direction.
“Shoyo, você está bem, você parece atordoado?” [Shoyo, are you okay, you look dazed.]
“Estou bem, Heitor, só com sede!” [I’m fine, Heitor, just thirsty!] He laughs as he wipes the sweat and sand off of his hands on to his shorts.
“Vamos tomar algumas bebidas!” [Let’s get some drinks!] The man slaps his back, ready to head to their usual spot to celebrate.
He trails behind the man to the bar he was at two nights before, way past his bedtime. He wasn’t going to go, wanting to stick to his strict schedule of waking up and going to bed on time. He’d barely ever messed up his routine since coming here, but he felt grateful, he felt as if all of his prayers had been answered when the one night he forgoed his routine he ended up running into you, unfortunately drunk out of your mind and lost but he thought that he was dreaming once again only for you to fall in arms and remind him that you were very much so in front of him. He sits by the table he sat by two nights before and waits for Heitor to come back from the bar, he’s completely out of it barely giving an answer to what he wanted to drink when asked. His mind was taken over by you.
And once again he feels as if he's hallucinating, straight ahead further from the bar he’s at, you're standing outside another bar. You’re probably waiting for the group you were with earlier, remembering the tall man with bleached blonde hair telling him he’s going to that bar.
Before he can stop himself, his feet are taking him over to you, his mind barely thinking but his body wanting to be near you.
“I was looking all over for you this morning,” His voice starts off a little loud and excited before slipping to a soft tone. “Were you okay?”
One of his hands is scratching the back of neck, the other in his pocket fiddling with a loose thread, he’s keeping his hands busy distracting himself from the thought of you in his arms once again.
You don’t look at him, your eyes stuck on the ocean in front of you. You don’t want to look at him or talk to him, you’re afraid he'll break the poor facade you're putting up and the struggle between wanting to run away from him or into his arms.
Your feet shuffle against the concrete under your heels, and you fix your sunglasses against your nose properly. Silence stands between the two of you.
“Don’t speak to me.” You whisper after a minute of silence yet there’s no bite in your tone.
“Did you have any problem getting back?”
Your body finally turns to him and your lips are straight before they open once again, “I don't want to talk to you!” He watches as a frown settles on your lips, your eyebrows scrunching in frustration. His eyes glaze over your eyebrows, your nose, your lips, anything that you’re allowing him to see even after all this time. He keeps quiet and doesn’t say anything more and you can feel your insides churn, he’s never had the ability to shut up around you. But even after all the frustration, you still want to hear his voice as much as you hate yourself for wanting to hear it.
“How did you know I was here—in Rio.” You ask, subtle disdain in your tone.
Ten seconds pass before he speaks up again, “I ran into you on the sidewalk, you were drunk. I had no idea you were here, I was shocked. You didn’t know how to get back to your hotel and you forgot your assistant’s number, I just did the next best thing and made you sleep at my place until the morning. I just–I just wanted to talk to you.” His voice gets lower as he explains, hoping to ease you of your frustration.
You stay silent for a moment before whispering a simple Ok, your voice is heavy and your head is downturned, your eyes focusing on the sprout growing out of the crack in the concrete. You feel like a teenager again, standing beside him realizing that some things can’t pass through time and distance.
“How long are you staying here?” He asks quietly as to not bring any attention to the two of you. You don't reply, your head still downturned. He stands beside you silently before he hears you quietly reply, “A week.”
He grins. “You can have so much fun in Rio in just a week.”
You fight back a soft smile making its way on your lips. He sounds more mature, his voice a little older but still carrying that same spirit he had years ago.
You're silent again before you hesitantly speak up. “I want to see more.” Your voice is still low. Very vague sentence but he understands you he always does.
“If you don’t mind, I want to show you around. I’ll make sure you have a good time here.”
You finally raise your head to look at him, your eyes shielded from the sunglasses. “I have work.” A frown forming on your face.
You've forgotten about the small disdain over seeing him, slipping back into the familiar feeling of being near him. “And I'm sure you've got other things to do.”
“We can do things before or even after you're finished and I’ll make time during the day and night for you.”
You want to ask what he's been up to other than volleyball, if he's been taking care of himself properly and if he's healthy. You want to talk to him and be with him and touch him. But you don't, you stay silent and you can feel his eyes on you.
You can hear the shuffle of feet coming closer, and it seems like the group is leaving the bar. You look back at him quickly mouthing a goodbye before heading closer to the exit of the bar the group was leaving out of. He watches you walk away before turning back to head back to Heitor and he’s happy. You spoke to him and you looked at him and he knows that even if you chose to throw a stone at him he’d be glad it’s being thrown by your hands.
The droplets of water race down your skin as you sit on the bed in nothing but a towel, you're trying to delay getting dressed. You’re afraid the moment you get up to put something on it’ll be clothes to go outside and you’ll end up sneaking out again. Your conversation with Shoyo sparks even more interest in your need to see more of Rio (and him). You brainstorm ideas to get out there without Yume stopping you, you know you absolutely cannot sneak out again and you can’t outwardly say that you’re going out because someone would have to tag along. 30 minutes pass and you pick your phone up to message Yume that you think you might have dropped something in the lobby and you're going back down to get it. That small luck of yours seems to walk a little bit closer to you again as she doesn't even ask what you had dropped in the lobby. Getting dressed quickly and ensuring you're properly disguised you head down to the lobby, your phone in one pocket of your shorts and your portuguese language book in your left hand.
You head back to the same bar he was at the night before and today looking around for him, the sun was lowering down into the sea and you hoped that maybe he’d be here around this time. Taking a few more glances around with no sign of Shoyo, you cross the street to the other side above the beach and you can see the familiar ginger hair closer to the shore talking to the same large man he was playing with earlier. He’s waving to the man as he walks away from Shoyo heading in another direction. He on the other hand walks in your direction, looking around casually before he spots a figure dressed in unusual clothing for the weather once again and you can see a smile growing on his face, he begins to shout your name in excitement before stopping himself, slapping a hand over his mouth and instead running closer to you. He stops by the wall and looks up at you, you look back at him before walking away from his sight.
In a second you hear deep breaths and footsteps coming closer before he appears beside you,
“Hi, what are you doing here?” He bites his lower lip to stop his smile from growing even more, his legs slowing down from the quick sprint he just did to reach you.
“I want to see Rio.” You look at him as you both continue to walk side by side.
He can’t fight the smile any longer “Okay!”
He’s a little out of breath, his Adam's apple bobbing everytime he takes a breath and his shoulders look heavy. The hair by the nape of his neck is dark and damp from his sweat and his shirt is clings to his body.
“Let me get changed from my apartment. It's not too far, want to come?”
You nod your head, a little excited to see what you could see just from the walk to his place and perhaps the fact you’ll get a proper look of Shoyo’s life without you in the past few years.
“Do you have a roommate?” Your voice lacked any harshness from when you had spoken to him this morning. “Yes his name is Pedro, he’s super cool and he likes one piece too. He’s still in school so I don’t know if he’ll be there— crap I hope he's not home.”
“Why? Don't you like him?”
“Yes.” He fiddles with the strap of his small gym bag hanging behind his back. “He’s a huge fan of yours.”
“Oh, is my disguise good enough.” He lets out a small laugh at your question and watches as you toggle with the sunglasses perched upon your nose. “Yes but he’ll probably wonder who I’m bringing into the apartment. I’ve never had anyone over before, he’ll be so confused.”
You feel a bit ashamed over the slight relief you just got that he hadn’t had anyone over in his time here but all you do is nod.
Entering the apartment you had raced out of only yesterday morning seemed much different now, now that you could actually take in everything around you. It was a simple apartment, tidy and if you squint hard enough little pieces of Shoyo’s two years here were evident. He’s got an old–almost deflated volleyball in the corner of the living room and a bottle of soy on the table. There's another clothing rack near the apartment's window with beach shorts lying on it soaking in the setting sun. You follow him into his bedroom as he sets down his bag by the door.
“I'll shower real quick, don’t worry I won’t take too long!”
You nod at him once more, watching as he disappears from his room to head to the bathroom. It hits you for the upteenth time that it's been years since you've seen each other, and the broadness of his shoulders isn’t a hallucination but another piece of evidence that Shoyo travelled across the globe and did nothing but work hard.
His room is now covered in rays of pinks and oranges and you look around at the room you almost went crazy over the day before and even in the shadows casted from the setting sun you can still see that Shoyo is still your Shoyo, the one you knew all those years ago.
He’s got a stash of one piece manga on his little shelf and volleyball magazines stacked up beside it on the floor. The jacket on the clothing rack hangs down and you look away before the nights of poorly tossing him balls all those years ago invade your thoughts.
Your toes wiggle from the cold feeling of the floor, a huge contrast from the warm beads of sand you felt last night. You walk slowly taking in his life from the past two years here before taking a seat on the edge of his bed. The sun has almost finished setting and in about 10 minutes you’ll probably be sitting in the dark.
You reach for the lamp on the nightstand, flicking the switch for some light and right under the base of the lamp, something catches your eye. You see yourself, smiling gently, the other person in the picture covered by the base of the lamp. Pulling the picture from under it, you stare at the picture, specifically the person right beside you. And of course that smile that shines brighter than the sun is on his face and the memory of that night pops back into your head. It was a little after practice had ended late, the six of you walking along the sidewalk to go home. You can remember the way Yamaguchi's fingers fiddled with the phone he had just recently got after the last broke from an incident during practice a few days before. He had only wanted to test the camera of the phone but he’d caught a picture, important enough that Shoyo got it printed out and took it with him even across the globe.
He’s smiling brightly, his arms raised in the air, one hand holding your bookbag (which you're sure knocked him in the head right after the picture was taken) and the other holding a meat bun. And there you stood right beside him, a soft smile on your face, your eyebrows slightly raised from the sudden photo taking and Shoyo’s flying arms. You can almost feel yourself getting overwhelmed with emotions at the picture but you hold back anything that might overspill and put the picture back down onto the nightstand before Shoyo walks back into the room.
He’s got a shirt on that's way too tight to your eyes, his biceps training against the fabric of his short sleeves as he uses the towel hung around his neck to dry off his hair. He’s got a simple pair of cargo shorts on, his built calves contracting as he walks further into the room.
“Wanna get something to eat before?” He continues to use the towel to lazily dry his wet hair, both his hands shuffling around his head. You try your best to ignore the way his shirt rises up a little and look at him. “Before what?”
A wide grin overcomes his face, “It’s a surprise!”
You wonder if you should just go back to the hotel and save yourself a fright, you trust Shoyo (as much as you like to act like you don’t) and you know he wouldn’t take you anywhere that’ll scare you or anything but he’s also very much so full of surprises and you’re afraid you might end up skydiving off the top of a mountain.
You sigh a little, the room is mostly dark, only the lamp on the nightstand adds some light to the room, and you start to feel a little warm. The weight of the bed shifts a little as he plops himself down beside you on the bed, the small light illuminating his face a little that you can see the little shadows casted by his eyelashes on his cheek. You can feel yourself getting warmer, this feels too intimate yet you can’t bring yourself to get up and move away from him.
You turn your head a bit more to properly face him, his hair a bit damp and dark from his shower but his shoulders look much more relaxed than when he ran up to you from the beach, you wonder if he’s starting to feel the same way as you are easing into company that he was once so familar with years ago.
“Sure, we can eat— but we can’t go to that bar that we went to today,” You hurriedly tell him.
“Topo Do Barril?”
You smile a little. He’s gotten so good at the language you feel a little bashful at his ability to easily spill portuguese out of his mouth so effortlessly. You nod, clasping your hands and resting them between your thighs.
“Today, when you saw me outside, I was kind of hiding from the man who owns the bar,” You feel a little shy telling him what you did before you ended up running into him that night but he just looks at you completely interested in whatever you have to say and you can almost hear his laughter that you know is coming, “When I snuck out, that’s the first place I went to— I bought a beer there but he would have recognized me from the night before from the way I was dressed and I was afraid he’d bring it up somehow and then Yume would find out and kill me.”
And there it is, the sound that always had you feeling a little bit warmer when you heard it.
“Seriously?” He laughed.
“Yes! It’s so not funny,” You slap his thigh, biting back a smile, “He literally has a poster of me in the bar!”
His laughter slows down a little and a bright smile is left on his face, “I would’ve loved to see how your assistant would react to a random man at a bar recognizing you.”
You huff at his amusement of your dilemma.
“Come on! I want us to eat on time before we get there.” He exclaims jumping off the bed before he extends his hand towards you to lift you off the bed. The warmth from his hand envelops your fingers and you pull away quickly as you follow him to the front door of the apartment.
The rough feeling of the concrete sidewalk has your flips flops scraping against the rough surface, as the cool breeze passes the two of you. It's darker now and youve hung your mask on to your left ear to breathe freely while leaving your cap on your head. You glance to your right as Shoyo is talking about something you're not really sure you caught any of. His hair ruffles from the wind and your eyes follow his arm that reaches up to brush back his hair.
“Your hair.”
He stops talking to look at you as you walk side by side.
“It’s short.”
“Yeah, I cut it when I came here, ‘s too hot to have it as long like before.” He brushes back his hair once again from the wind.
“I liked it when it was longer,” His eyes widened a bit, a blush threatening to creep up, he knew you liked how long his hair was in your 3rd year, he didn’t think you’d remember that fact about yourself, “But it’s still cute at this length.” A silly smile on your face has the tips of his ears red and his cheeks hot and before you know it Shoyo’s on the floor, failing to see a small hole in the ground— completely enamoured by you, latching to the straps of his right sandal sending him to the ground.
“Oh my God, Shoyo!” Your hands fly up to cover your mouth in shock, he’s lying on his back, as you crouch down to him. He can feel himself getting hot from your hands resting on his bicep, one of them moving away from his bicep to his forehead to push his hair back and comb through his strands to get any dirt out.
“Are you— are you okay?” You giggle under your breath as you watch an enormous grin break out on his face before he’s shaking with laughter.
“You scared me, gosh.” Murmuring as you slap his arm lightly, “Get up, your shirt will get dirty.” He lifts his back off the ground, as his arms hold him from behind, he’s got a more serious expression on his face now as he leans closer into you.
“Shoyo, are you really okay?” Your eyebrows scrunched together in concern as you reach out for him to sit him up straight without having him support himself. His body leans more into you and you can feel his hair tickle your neck when his head falls on to your shoulder.
“Shoyo.”
“It hurts so bad.”
“Shoyo what hurts, should we go to a hospital?” A sniffle leaves him from your frantic tone.
“My head hurts.” He moves his head from the junction of your shoulders resting on your collarbone to look up at you properly, watching your worried expression replaced by a deadpan face.
“You fell back on your ass.” You get up from your crouching position to stand above him, resting your hands on your hips, “I seriously thought you’d hurt yourself.”
He quickly rises from the floor, brushing off his shorts, “My back hurts!”
“Pay attention to where you’re going next time.” You hide your smile as you walk away from him slowly, waiting for him to catch up and as always he does.
“I was distracted.” He huffed out. You ignore the warm feeling coming over your senses, choosing to ignore his reply.
“Right there.” He points to the bar he was at earlier in the day. You feel his hand hover over the small of your back as you two hurriedly cross the street to get to the bar. He pulls out the folding wooden chair for you to sit and you take a seat as you watch him call over a waiter, a sense of familiarity between the two’s greetings. He grabs a chair sitting a bit closer to you, his back turned away from the television strung up on the wall. You’d purposely moved to the seat facing away from the television out of consideration that he might want to watch the game of beach volleyball blaring on the tv, or the neighboring tv playing a football match, leaving the chair facing the television open.
“Want anything to drink?”
You ponder a bit, and he watches you take a moment to decide.
“I do, but what if I run into Mr. Iwasaki.”
“What about him?” His head tilts in interest.
Damn
“I told him and his team I don’t drink.” You murmur almost shamefully before the man beside you laughs out.
“You?” Giggles leave his lips as you roll your eyes.
“Yes! I’m a model, I can’t go around drinking like that.”
He gives you a knowing look enough to remind you of your actions the day before, you shrug with a soft smile.
“Want a beer? You can get something with little alcohol so you don’t get lost around here again.” “I can’t get lost if you’re with me.” You nod, pushing your cap down more to secure it.
“One beer, just one! You have to be sober for where we’re going.”
“Gosh you’re acting like if I have a second one I'll be falling off the rails.” You mutter as he calls the waiter over asking for a beer and a lemonade.
“One sip of soju used to have you completely off the rails.” He chuckles at the frown on your face.
“That’s so not true!”
“Is too.”
“Is not.”
He’s still chuckling at your denial before picking up the laminated menu resting carelessly on the table in front.
“Hungry?”
“Mhm.” You continuously nod as you look at the menu he's holding in front of the two of you, your bodies leaning into each other to read the menu.
“What do you usually get here?” Your head turns to look at him, and your breath hitches a little from the close proximity you were oblivious to the whole time. He turns his head to answer you, seemingly unfazed at how close you are to him, and for a split second his eyes glance down to your lips before going back to your eyes, the action completely unnoticed by you.
“Churrasquinho, it’s super good!” He nods excitedly. He can feel the tips of ears getting pink from the simple fact that you’re here with him, experiencing what he has in the past few years. All those times wishing he could share certain moments with you were coming closer to becoming a reality.
“Okay. I’ll have that.”
He calls the waiter over again, ordering for the two of you, once again Portuguese falling effortlessly from his lips and you can hear it in his voice and the smile on his face as he speaks to the waiter that Brazil has treated him well.
“It’ll take like 10 minutes, so we can eat quickly and go soon.” His attention turns back to you.
“Where are you taking me.” You ask quickly after he speaks hoping that he’d answer off the bat.
“We’re going to the Fe– don’t do that!”
“I just want to know…what if I don’t like it.” Edging him to slip up and tell you.
“I know you will.”
You open your mouth to dispute, but your words fall flat and you wonder how often he thought of you to be so confident that you’ll like where he’s taking you. And you believe him 100% percent because he’s always known you and you know deep down even one-hundred years apart from him would not take away the care he has for the people he cares about.
--
He watches as your eyes widen, under the shade of the cap taking in the action before you. The street is lit with lamps and lanterns and fire, with tents of foods and art travelling all around.
“What’s this?” Turning to him as you take in his orange-hued features from the lights casting a glow on him.
“Festival Noturno Criativo.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, feeling his nervousness increasing little by little. “You’ve always liked night festivals.”
It’s simple but you’re a bit speechless that he’s still making it his goal that you enjoy experiences outside of work.
“I have always liked them.” The corners of your lips turn slightly upwards as you look at the bright festival in front. You can hear laughter and chatter over the loud festival music.
“Come on!” He gestures for the two of you to walk into the maze of art and cuisine of Rio. Walking side by side you look around you taking in the smell of skewered meat on grills and the sound of oil sizzling from another tent. You move closer to Shoyo as people walk through the pathways, until you decide to latch your hands on to his arms to avoid losing each other in the crowd.
“Wanna shop for something?” He moves close to your ear, earning an excited nod from you. You continue to walk past different booths, some with exciting and bold pieces of jewellery while others showcased paintings dripping with the vibrant culture of Brazil.
Your eyes land on a woman’s booth with various ceramic pieces lying about. Titling your head towards a piece you move closer to Shoyo’s ear so he can hear you over the music and chatter in the back.
“I like those.”
He follows your line of sight to two mugs, red flowers littering the outside with dark green leaves and a funky swirl for the handle. They're cute and a bit wonky but the image of you drinking happily from one of them has him reaching for his wallet in his left pocket. He walks up to the woman, his hand on the small of your back lightly easing you in the direction of the woman.
“Olá, quanto custa um desses copos, por favor” [Hi, how much for one of those cups please?] He points to the mugs you’ve been eyeing.
She’s polishing a vase before she looks to where Shoyo’s pointing, “236 reais.”
You watch Shoyo converse with the woman as he pulls out a few bills from his pocket, you look for a moment to see the woman only packaging one and you shake Shoyo’s arm gently to catch his attention.
“Get them both! Get one for yourself.” You pull the short sleeve of his shirt as he pauses for a moment and then answers with a nod. He turns back to the woman asking for the other, and reaching back for his wallet to pay. He carefully folds the receipt from the woman and places it in his wallet, his eyes burning into the card pocket he placed it in. He’ll keep it forever.
He's holding the small paper bag with the two ceramic cups carefully packaged as the two of you continue to walk through the festival. He’s hoping you’ll hold his arm again but at the realization that you both had moved on to an area with less people, he internally sulked. It seemed as if he couldn't hide his disappointment well as you noticed a small pout on his lips, maybe it was his bottomless stomach reacting to the aroma of all the foods around after walking around for two hours.
“Are you hungry?” Stopping to ask him, hoping that he’d crack a small smile at the mention of something to eat.
He shook his head as his pout deepened into a frown instead after taking a glance at the time. “It’s 9 already.”
“Oh.” A small frown of your own matching his and wanting to never see that on your face he gently smiles before calling your name.
“Let’s get one last thing before we leave, something sweet maybe.”
He’d bought about 10 of them, at the possibility of you liking them and wanting to take some back home with you. He liked them himself, having to restrict himself from buying anymore when he first came to Rio, they were a quick way to mess up his strict nutrition.
You’re close to the hotel and you two would part ways much sooner than arriving at the lobby to avoid anyone working there or your coworkers seeing you outside so late, with the man they watched earlier on the beach at that.
“What did you get?” You peered over at the bag holding the sweets he got for you, the breeze picked up once again as you two walked on the sidewalk, the sound of the waves crashing by the shore, harmonizing with your voices as you spoke.
“Beijinho de Coco, I can’t wait for you to try them!”
“Can we have one now before we get there?”
“You can, but I can’t eat anything like this right now.”
“Pleaase, Shoyo— let’s share one.” You offered, excited to share the little sweet with him— and well Shoyo’s never been one to deny you of anything that makes you happy, except maybe himself.
He fishes into the bag to open the plastic container they were placed in and takes one out to break it in half. He gives you the bag to keep with the other 9 of them and you can see the receipt laying under the plastic container. You think you’ll treasure it as if it were a rare pearl.
“There’s coconut on it!”
He nods at your exclaim, his cheeks becoming warm as you excitedly take your half from his hands, ready to take a bite.
“They’re called ‘coconut little kisses’ .”
You pause for a moment, your gaze shifting to the view of the ocean, a gentle smile on your lips as you take in the last of tonight.
And under the moon he had been looking at for the past 2 years, you share a coconut little kiss with Shoyo.
Notes:
They both kept a receipt for keepsakes
The ceramic mug he bought them
Festival Noturno Criativo is fictional
Next chapter
Divider creds: @anitalenia @strangergraphics
© manhattanstrawberry please do not plagiarize or repost my work
#hinata shoyo x reader#shoyo x reader#i love you shoyo#hinata shoyo#haikyuu hinata#hq timeskip#hq x reader#hq#hq fluff#hinata shouyou#hinata x reader#hinata shoyuo#hq hinata#haikyuu shoyo#shoyo hinata x reader#hinata shoyo x you#kageyama tobio#haikyu time skip#haikyuu x reader#haikyu x reader
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Black and White - Part 2
Masterlist
As One Direction’s hair and makeup artist, you’ve always had a flirty friendship with Niall. But one wild night in Las Vegas changes everything when you wake up married—and management insists you stay that way. Will you keep hiding your feelings, or finally admit there’s more than friendship between you?
Tags: Niall x reader, friends to lovers, forced proximity, fluff, kinda slow burn
Part 1 | Part 3
You wake up slowly, your head still fuzzy from sleep—and maybe the lingering effects of last night’s drinks. The first thing you notice is warmth, the kind that makes you want to burrow deeper into it and never leave.
And then you realize the warmth is coming from Niall.
Your eyes snap open, and sure enough, there he is, his face mere inches from yours, his arm draped snugly over your waist. Your legs are tangled together, and his hand—his hand is resting on your hip.
Your breath hitches as you try to make sense of the situation. You promised—promised—last night that you’d both stick to your own sides of the bed.
Clearly, that didn’t last long.
You’re just about to wiggle out from under his arm when he stirs, pulling you a fraction closer.
“Mm,” he mumbles, his voice deep and gravelly with sleep. His lips brush lightly against your hair as he murmurs, “Mornin’, love.”
Your heart skips a beat, and you freeze, unsure what to do. This is...way too cozy.
“Uh...morning,” you manage, your voice embarrassingly weak.
“Sleep alright?” he asks, his arm tightening just a little, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
You try to keep your voice steady as you respond. “I—uh, yeah. You?”
“Best I’ve slept in years,” he replies, his voice still heavy with sleep.
You groan internally. Of course he’d say that.
“Niall,” you hiss, keeping your voice low so as not to wake the entire floor. “We talked about this. We said we’d stay on our own sides!”
He cracks one eye open, giving you a lazy grin. “Yeah, but your side looked lonely. What was I supposed to do?”
“Not break the rules we literally set last night,” you say, trying—and failing—to wriggle out of his hold.
“Rules, shmules,” he says with a yawn, resting his chin against the top of your head. “C’mon, admit it. You were just as comfy as I was.”
You open your mouth to argue, but before you can say anything, there’s a sudden knock on the door.
Before you can react, the door swings open, and in strides Louis.
“Oi, you two,” he says without looking up, “Breakfast downstairs—” He stops mid-sentence, his eyes locking on the two of you tangled up in the bed.
His face splits into a wide grin, “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”
You and Niall spring apart so fast you nearly tumble off the bed, and Louis cackles, leaning against the doorframe.
“I knew it!” he crows, his voice practically echoing in the room. “You lot couldn’t even make it 24 hours without—”
“Louis, shut up,” you snap, your face burning.
“What? I’m just saying,” he says, holding his hands up innocently, though his grin betrays him. “This fake marriage thing might not be so fake after all.”
“It’s not what it looks like,” Niall says, though his easy tone makes it clear he’s not bothered in the slightest.
“Right,” Louis says, smirking as he backs toward the door. “Anyway, breakfast downstairs in fifteen, so maybe get yourselves...untangled by then.” He winks at you both before closing the door behind him.
You bury your face in your hands with a groan. “I can’t believe this.”
“What’s there to believe?” Niall says, his grin audible in his voice. “We were just cuddling. Happens all the time, right?”
You glare at him, but your heart betrays you with its rapid thudding.
“No,” you mutter. “This doesn’t happen. Ever.”
“Well,” he says with a shrug, standing up and stretching, “maybe it should.”
You groan again, standing and grabbing your things. “I’m taking the first shower. Don’t follow me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, though the smirk on his face suggests otherwise.
As you close the bathroom door behind you, you lean against it, exhaling sharply.
The warmth of his arm around you lingers, and you hate how much you liked it.
…
You walk into the hotel dining room, doing your best to appear composed despite the lingering embarrassment from that morning. The air is thick with the smell of coffee and pancakes, but the low buzz of conversation stills the moment you and Niall step through the door.
“Oh, look who decided to grace us with their presence,” Louis announces loudly, his grin already reaching his ears.
You glance at Niall, who just shrugs, as if to say, Might as well get it over with.
“You know, you didn’t have to rush out of bed,” Harry quips, eyes glinting mischievously.
“Bet it was cozy,” Liam adds, smirking into his mug.
Lottie sits next to Louis, her chin propped in her hand as she studies the two of you. “Good morning, newlyweds. Sleep well?”
You groan and drop into a seat across from her, grabbing the nearest cup of coffee to hide your burning cheeks. “Can we not?”
“Nope,” Louis says, leaning forward with a gleeful smile. “You’re officially the most entertaining part of this tour.”
“Is that why you barged into our room this morning?” Niall retorts, his tone sharp but playful. “Couldn’t wait to see what trouble you could stir up?”
“You were cuddling,” Louis says simply, as if it’s the most obvious justification in the world.
“We were not—”
“You were,” Niall cuts in, his voice steady but teasing. “And it wasn’t bad, was it?”
You whip your head toward him, your heart skipping a beat. “Don’t start,” you mutter, but the way his smirk deepens tells you he already knows he’s won.
“Alright, alright,” Harry says, raising a hand as if to settle things. “Let’s move on to the important stuff—like figuring out how you’re both going to survive this circus you’ve created.”
“We didn’t create it,” you argue, shooting him a glare.
“True,” Lottie says with a laugh. “But you’re living it now. How’s that going for you?”
Before you can answer, the table erupts in laughter, leaving you wondering how you’re going to get through breakfast without losing your mind—or your carefully constructed walls.
Zayn slides into the seat next to Lottie, his eyes darting between you and Niall with an unreadable expression. “You two are impossible,” he mutters, barely looking up from his phone.
“Tell me about it,” Louis says, winking at you. “Can’t even pretend anymore.”
You shoot him a warning glare, but it only makes him laugh harder.
“You two were practically glued together last night at the concert,” Liam adds, his voice teasing but with a softness you didn’t expect. “Didn’t help that everyone could see it.”
Niall shrugs, unconcerned. “So? It’s not like we’ve got anything to hide, right?” His eyes flick to you for a second, warm with that familiar playfulness, but there’s something else there too—a quiet confidence you can’t ignore.
You force a smile, feeling the walls you’ve spent so long building up start to crumble. “Sure. No big deal,” you mumble, hoping they can’t see right through you.
“Don’t pretend like it’s no big deal,” Harry says, his voice a little too knowing. “You two have been dancing around each other for ages. It’s only a matter of time before you admit what we’ve all known.”
You roll your eyes, trying to brush it off. “You don’t know anything.”
“Actually,” Zayn cuts in, still focused on his phone, “we do. But it’s not like you’ll admit it anytime soon.”
“Exactly,” Lottie says, glancing between you and Niall. “We’ve all been waiting for you two to finally figure it out. And now... well, here we are.”
The silence that follows is thick, as if everyone is waiting for you to crack, to admit something you’ve been trying so hard to hide. You can feel Niall’s gaze on you, steady and warm, but you keep your eyes down, focusing on your coffee cup like it’s the most important thing in the world.
“We’ve got a lot to sort out,” you murmur, hoping to deflect. “And breakfast is definitely not the time for that.”
Niall leans back in his chair, his easy grin never faltering. “You’re right. But we’ll get there, won’t we?” His voice is light, teasing, but the weight of his words lingers longer than you’d like.
You swallow hard, wondering just how much longer you can keep pretending everything’s fine.
Louis, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, nudges you with his elbow. “You know, if it were anyone else, I’d say they’re pretty much together already.”
Zayn smirks. “But it’s you two. So, we’re all just sitting here waiting for the inevitable.”
You want to protest, want to say that they’re wrong, but the truth is, you’re not sure anymore.
Niall’s hand brushes yours across the table, just for a second, but it’s enough to send your heart racing. He doesn’t pull away. In fact, he seems more at ease than ever, while you’re doing everything you can to keep your feelings buried.
“See? That’s progress,” Harry says, watching you both closely.
“Yeah, it’s called being married,” you snap, unable to hide your frustration any longer.
That only makes the table laugh harder. “Don’t worry, mate,” Zayn says to Niall, his grin wide. “We’re all just waiting for the real fireworks.”
You wish you could be as confident as Niall. Instead, you find yourself wondering how much longer you can keep pretending that nothing has changed.
...
The day passes in a blur of busy schedules, rehearsals, and travel. You’ve been doing your best to avoid Niall, keeping your focus strictly on work, but it’s not easy. Not when every glance in his direction feels like a magnet pulling you closer.
By the time you’re setting up for the band’s evening talk show interview, your nerves are frayed. You’ve spent the entire day dodging his gaze, pretending not to notice the way he casually lingers in your periphery or the soft smiles he’s thrown your way when he thinks no one’s watching.
Now, with Niall seated in the makeup chair in front of you, there’s nowhere to hide.
“Finally,” he says, grinning up at you. His tone is teasing, but there’s a warmth in his eyes that makes it impossible to brush him off. “Thought you were avoiding me all day.”
You force a light laugh, your fingers busying themselves with the brushes and tools laid out on the counter. “Just busy. You know how it is.”
“Sure,” he says, but the disbelief is clear in his tone. He doesn’t push, though, which almost makes it worse.
As you step closer to him, raising your hand to comb through his hair, you catch the way he’s watching you—soft, steady, and completely unguarded. It sends a shiver down your spine, and you quickly look away, focusing instead on getting his hair camera-ready.
“You’re quiet tonight,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.
“Trying to concentrate,” you reply, not meeting his eyes.
“On me?” he teases, and the smirk in his tone makes your heart skip a beat.
“On your hair,” you correct, though the quiver in your voice betrays you.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see him reach for his phone, holding it up in a quick movement. Before you can protest, you hear the snap of a photo.
“Niall!” you scold, reaching for his phone, but he pulls it away, laughing.
“Relax,” he says, tapping at the screen. “Just keeping up appearances, yeah?”
You groan, your face heating as you imagine how disheveled you must look. “I probably look terrible.”
“Nope,” he says, still focused on his phone. “You look beautiful.”
You freeze for a moment, your heart thudding loudly in your chest. It’s not the first time he’s said something like that, but tonight it feels different.
“Stop messing around,” you mutter, trying to shake off the way his words make you feel.
“I’m not messing,” he says simply, his gaze locking with yours. “You’re beautiful.”
You don’t know how to respond, so you do the only thing you can—focus on finishing his hair. Stepping in front of him, you smooth out the strands with quick, practiced movements, desperate to keep your hands from shaking.
But then his hands find your waist.
Before you can react, he pulls you down into his lap, his grip firm yet gentle.
“Niall!” you gasp, your balance thrown off as you clutch at his shoulders for support.
“Relax,” he says again, his voice soft and amused. “You’re way too tense.”
“I can’t—I need to finish—”
“You’re done,” he interrupts, his eyes searching yours. “And you need to stop running.”
You’re not sure if he means running from him or running from how you feel, but either way, you can’t deny the truth in his words.
“You’re impossible,” you whisper, your resolve cracking under the weight of his gaze.
“And you’re stubborn,” he counters, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But I like that about you.”
The moment stretches between you, the air thick with something unspoken. You know you should stand up, brush it off like you always do, but for the first time, you’re not sure you want to.
You’re hyperaware of everything—the solid warmth of his thighs beneath you, the gentle but insistent grip of his hands on your waist, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the lingering trace of hairspray. Your fingers, still resting on his shoulders for balance, flex unconsciously against the soft cotton of his shirt.
The air feels thicker now, weighted with unspoken words and simmering tension. His eyes lock onto yours, searching, daring, waiting.
“Niall,” you start, but your voice falters, too quiet and too unsure.
His grip on your waist tightens just slightly, grounding you. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady. “Just... don’t overthink for once.”
Your breath catches as he leans in, his forehead nearly brushing yours. His eyes flick down to your lips, then back up again, and you feel the magnetic pull drawing you closer. It’s dizzying, intoxicating.
Your heart pounds so loudly in your chest that you’re sure he can hear it. Every nerve in your body is screaming at you to close the distance, to finally give in to the years of longing you’ve kept buried beneath layers of denial.
He doesn’t move further, though. He’s waiting—for you.
The realization sends a jolt through you, a mix of exhilaration and fear. You want this. You’ve always wanted this. But crossing that line feels like stepping off the edge of a cliff, and you’re not sure you’re ready for the fall.
Your lips part, your breath mingling with his, and for a split second, nothing else in the world exists but him.
“Niall!”
The sudden voice from the doorway shatters the moment like glass. You jolt back instinctively, your cheeks burning as you twist to see Louis leaning against the frame, arms crossed and a knowing smirk on his face.
“Interview’s starting, mate,” Louis says, his tone casual but his grin unmistakably teasing. “Unless you’re planning to skip it for… other priorities.”
“Coming,” Niall replies, his voice slightly hoarse. His hands slip from your waist, but the warmth of his touch lingers like a brand.
Louis raises an eyebrow, his smirk deepening as he glances between the two of you. “Right,” he says, dragging out the word. “Don’t take too long, lovebirds.”
You scramble to your feet, your face flaming as Louis retreats down the hall, his laughter echoing behind him.
When you glance back at Niall, he’s watching you with a mix of amusement and something softer, something that makes your chest ache.
“We should—”
“Yeah,” you cut him off, grabbing a comb from the counter and busying yourself with tidying up. Anything to avoid the weight of his gaze.
“Hey,” he says softly, and when you look up, his expression is open, earnest. “We’ll finish this later.”
Your throat tightens, but you manage a small nod. He stands, his hand brushing lightly against your arm as he passes, and the simple touch sends a spark racing through you.
As the door clicks shut behind him, you exhale shakily, your fingers gripping the counter for support. You don’t know what “later” will bring, but for the first time, the idea of falling feels a little less terrifying.
...
You’re standing off to the side of the bustling studio, arms crossed tightly over your chest. The makeup station behind you feels like a safe barrier between you and the whirlwind of cameras, producers, and bright lights. Across the room, the boys are settling onto the sleek leather couch under the glaring stage lights, grinning and joking as the host greets them warmly.
Niall catches your eye. Even from this distance, his gaze feels like a tether, pulling your focus no matter how much you try to avoid it. He gives you a quick wink, his easy charm on full display, and it’s enough to make your heart stutter.
The interview begins with the usual playful banter—questions about the tour, favorite moments on stage, and funny stories from the road. The boys are in their element, bouncing off each other’s energy and keeping the audience laughing.
Then the host leans in, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Now, boys, we have to talk about the latest buzz. Niall, you’ve been quite the topic of conversation this week. Care to share what’s going on?”
Your stomach twists as Niall’s name draws a wave of cheers and laughter from the audience. The cameras zoom in on him, and he flashes a cheeky smile that’s both endearing and infuriating.
“Oh, you mean the marriage thing?” he says, his tone casual, but there’s a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.
The room erupts in gasps and laughter, and the host’s jaw drops in exaggerated surprise. “So it’s true? You got married in Vegas?”
“Well,” Niall says, leaning back and rubbing the back of his neck, “things happen when you’re having fun, don’t they?”
The audience roars, and you feel like you might sink through the floor. Your hands clench into fists at your sides as Harry, ever the instigator, chimes in.
“To be fair,” Harry says with a grin, “it’s not every day you see Niall that brave.”
“Or that drunk,” adds Louis, earning another wave of laughter.
“And your mystery bride?” the host presses, her curiosity genuine. “Who’s the lucky lady?”
Niall hesitates for a fraction of a second, his eyes flicking to where you’re standing. “Let’s just say,” he begins, his voice light but steady, “she’s amazing. Beautiful, talented, and someone who puts up with me better than anyone else could.”
The host melts at his words, clasping her hands dramatically. “That’s so sweet! You must really care about her.”
“Absolutely,” Niall says without missing a beat. The sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, and you find yourself holding your breath.
Liam, ever the voice of reason, steers the conversation back to the tour, defusing the tension with a comment about their next city. As the interview wraps up, the boys thank the audience and head off stage, their energy high as they make their way back toward you.
Niall is the last to approach, his smile easy as always, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes when he stops in front of you.
“So?” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “How’d I do?”
You want to be annoyed, to scold him for being so casual about the whole thing. But the way he’s looking at you—hopeful and just a little nervous—makes it impossible.
“You didn’t embarrass me as much as I thought you would,” you say, your voice softer than you intended.
His grin widens. “That’s a win, then.”
Before you can respond, Harry sidles up beside Niall, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Good show, Mr. Husband,” he teases, winking at you. “The two of you are going to have to step it up, though. The world’s watching now.”
Your cheeks burn as you watch Harry stroll away, and when you glance back at Niall, he’s already watching you.
“Guess we’d better figure out what we’re doing, huh?” he says, his voice quieter now, the playful edge gone.
You nod, your throat tight. “Yeah. We should.”
...
The soft hum of the elevator fills the silence as you and Niall ascend to your floor. His hands are stuffed into his hoodie pockets, his hair still slightly tousled from the interview, though you’d carefully styled it hours earlier. You can still feel the ghost of his fingertips brushing your wrist as he snapped that photo of you, and the way his gaze lingered on you in the dressing room keeps playing on a loop in your mind.
You shift uncomfortably, the tension between you feeling sharper now after nearly kissing him. Neither of you has addressed it, but the weight of it presses down on the quiet space between you.
When the elevator dings, you step out first, desperate to get to the shared room even though the thought of spending another night in close quarters with him makes your heart race.
At the door, you fumble with the key card, but before you can swipe it, Niall’s hand comes to rest gently on your shoulder. “Hey.”
The softness in his voice makes you freeze. You glance back at him, your heart thudding in your chest. “What?”
“You’ve been quiet all night,” he says, his brows furrowing slightly. “What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”
“I’m just tired,” you mutter, brushing him off as you finally get the door open and step inside.
He follows you in, closing the door behind him, but instead of giving you space, he lingers. You drop your bag on the armchair, hoping he’ll let it go, but his voice cuts through the quiet.
“Is this about earlier?”
You stiffen, your back to him. “What do you mean?”
“In the dressing room,” he says simply. “When we almost…” He trails off, but the unfinished sentence hangs heavily in the air.
You spin around, arms crossed over your chest. “Nothing happened.”
“Exactly,” he counters, stepping closer. “Why not?”
“Niall…” You sigh, rubbing a hand over your face. “Can we not do this tonight? It’s been a long day.”
He ignores your plea, his blue eyes locked on yours. “You’re avoiding it. And me.”
“I’m not avoiding—”
“Yes, you are,” he says firmly, cutting you off. “You’ve been dodgin’ me all day. You barely looked at me during the interview, you wouldn’t sit next to me in the car, and now you’re actin’ like this.”
You let out a frustrated breath, dropping onto the edge of the bed. “What do you want me to say, Niall?”
“The truth,” he says, moving to stand in front of you. “Why are you running?”
You look down at your hands, your fingers twisting in your lap. “I’m not running.”
“Yes, you are,” he insists, crouching down so he’s at eye level with you. “Talk to me. Please.”
You bite your lip, debating whether to brush him off again, but the look in his eyes—earnest, patient, and so undeniably Niall—makes it impossible.
“I’m scared, okay?” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Scared of what?”
You gesture between the two of you, frustration bubbling to the surface. “This. Us. What if we ruin everything?”
Niall’s shoulders sag slightly, his expression softening. “You think we’d ruin it? After everything?”
You nod, swallowing hard. “We’ve always been good at being… us. And now everything’s different.”
“Different doesn’t have to mean bad,” he says quietly.
You glance up at him, your chest tightening. “And what if it does? What if we mess this up and it’s never the same?”
Niall sighs, running a hand through his hair as he sits back on his heels. “I can’t promise we won’t mess up,” he admits. “But I can promise I’ll never stop tryin’ to fix it if we do.”
Your throat feels tight, the weight of his words sinking in. He’s always been like this—steady, kind, and unwavering.
“Niall…” you start, but he interrupts gently.
“You don’t have to say anything right now,” he says, standing and offering you a hand. “But stop shutting me out. Please.”
Hesitating for only a moment, you take his hand and let him pull you to your feet. The warmth of his palm lingers even after he lets go, and you know you’re walking a fine line.
...
The soft glow of the city lights filters through the curtains, casting faint patterns across the bed. You lie on your side, your back to Niall, gripping the edge of the blanket as if it could shield you from the swirling mess of emotions threatening to spill over.
The bed shifts as he moves, his voice soft in the stillness. “You don’t have to stay on the edge, you know. I’m not gonna bite.”
You glance over your shoulder, catching the faintest smile tugging at his lips. His hair is still slightly mussed from earlier, and the quiet vulnerability in his expression tugs at your heart.
“I’m fine here,” you murmur, but the words feel hollow even to you.
He hesitates, then shifts closer, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. “C’mere,” he whispers, his tone low and soothing.
Your breath catches as his arm lightly brushes yours. For a moment, you hesitate, your walls screaming for you to stay put, to keep the distance. But then you feel the warmth of his hand resting gently on your arm, and something inside you gives way.
Slowly, you roll onto your other side, facing him. His blue eyes search yours, cautious but hopeful, and he lifts his arm in invitation. “Only if you’re okay with it.”
You nod, your throat too tight to speak, and let him pull you closer. The moment his arm settles around your waist, you feel the tension begin to ebb, replaced by a comforting warmth that spreads through your chest.
He pulls you just close enough that your forehead brushes against his shoulder, his scent—a mix of clean soap and something uniquely him—filling the space between you. His thumb moves absentmindedly against your back, tracing slow, soothing circles.
“This okay?” he asks again, his voice barely audible.
You nod against him, your fingers curling lightly into his shirt. “Yeah.”
For a while, neither of you speaks. The steady rhythm of his breathing matches the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand, and you let yourself sink into the moment. His touch is grounding, his presence a balm for the doubts that have been clawing at you.
But even in this closeness, your fears whisper at the edges of your mind. The warmth of his embrace feels too good, too safe, and the thought of losing it terrifies you.
“Thank you,” you whisper, unsure if he even hears it.
“For what?” he murmurs, his voice drowsy but curious.
“For always being you,” you reply, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you can’t bring yourself to say.
He hums softly, a sound of quiet contentment, and you feel the slight press of his lips against your hair. “Always.”
It doesn’t take long for his breathing to slow, the tension leaving his body as he drifts off to sleep. His arm remains firmly around you, holding you as if he’d never let go.
He shifts slightly, nuzzling closer in his sleep, and the movement sends a pang of bittersweet ache through you. You know he’s out, his breathing deep and even, but it feels like he could wake at any moment, like you shouldn’t risk it.
But the words are there, teetering on the edge of your tongue, demanding to be spoken into the quiet.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper so faintly you can barely hear it yourself. The lump in your throat threatens to choke you, but you push on. “I’m sorry for running. For being such a coward.”
You wait, but he doesn’t stir, only tightening his hold around your waist slightly, as if his subconscious could sense your turmoil.
Your breath shakes as you exhale, eyes burning with tears you refuse to shed. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, Niall. Too long. And it’s terrifying.”
The words spill out, unrestrained, carried by the weight of everything you’ve held back. “You’re everything to me. You always have been. And that’s the problem, isn’t it? You’re kind, and talented, and brilliant. And me? I’m just…” You pause, choking on the thought. “I’m just a makeup artist. Just the girl who hides behind brushes and combs while you light up the world.”
Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, the familiar texture grounding you even as your voice wavers. “You deserve someone who’s extraordinary. Someone who doesn’t hold you back, who fits into your world without hesitation. And I—” Your breath catches, and you close your eyes tightly, willing the tears away.
“I’m so scared,” you admit, the words trembling as they escape. “Scared of ruining us. Scared of not being enough for you. Scared that if I let myself have this, if I let myself have you, it’ll all fall apart, and I won’t know how to survive it.”
A tear slips down your cheek, but you don’t wipe it away. You let the confession linger in the stillness, hoping it might ease the ache in your chest, even though you know it won’t.
“And I know you’d never say it,” you continue, your voice barely audible now. “But part of me keeps thinking you’re only doing this because of the marriage, because you have to, not because you want to.”
The thought makes your chest tighten unbearably, and you let out a shaky breath. “I don’t want to lose you, Niall. Not as my friend. Not as… anything. But I don’t know how to do this.”
For a moment, you’re met with silence, the kind that feels both comforting and crushing. His breathing stays steady, his arm still wrapped securely around you, and you convince yourself that he’s fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the weight you’ve just spilled into the darkness.
You glance at him, his features softened in the dim light, and a small, bittersweet smile tugs at your lips. “I love you,” you whisper one last time, letting the words fall into the space between you like a secret never meant to be heard.
As your eyes close and sleep begins to pull you under, you tell yourself that maybe this moment is enough. Maybe it’s okay to love him in the quiet, to let yourself have this fragile, fleeting sense of peace—even if he never knows.
...
The morning sunlight seeps through the thin curtains, bathing the room in a soft, golden glow. You stir beneath the duvet, slowly becoming aware of the warm weight of Niall’s arm draped over your waist. His steady, even breaths caress the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. For a fleeting moment, you let yourself melt into the comfort of his presence, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest pressing gently against your back.
But then reality crashes in, and your stomach twists. What if he heard you?
You carefully shift, trying to slide out from under his arm, but the movement stirs him. His arm tightens instinctively around you, pulling you closer.
“You’re not sneaky, y’know,” his voice rasps, still heavy with sleep, a teasing lilt to it.
Your breath catches, your entire body freezing. “What?”
He shifts slightly, propping himself up on one elbow. His tousled hair is sticking up in every direction, and his blue eyes, though bleary, are far too focused on you. “I heard you last night,” he murmurs, his voice soft but sure.
Your heart stops. “You—what?”
“I wasn’t asleep,” he says simply, his lips curving into a small smile.
Panic flares in your chest as you sit up abruptly, clutching the duvet tightly around yourself like it’s a shield. “You… you misheard. I was rambling. Half-asleep—didn’t know what I was saying.”
Niall lets out a soft chuckle, sitting up as well. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” you insist, your voice sharp with nerves.
He leans closer, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight, and the proximity makes it impossible to breathe. “You sure about that?”
Your cheeks burn as you scramble to look anywhere but at him. “Can we just… not do this?”
“No,” he says firmly, though his tone is still gentle. “We’re not brushing this under the rug, not this time.”
“Niall—”
“Why?” he interrupts, his voice low but steady. “Why do you think you’re not good enough? For me?”
The question feels like a punch to the gut. You shake your head, biting your lip. “Because look at you!” you burst out, your words spilling over in a rush. “You’re—you’re Niall Horan. People scream your name. You’re famous. You could have anyone. And I’m just—”
“Don’t,” he says, cutting you off sharply, his voice firm enough to make you stop mid-sentence.
His eyes are burning with an intensity that makes your throat tighten.
“You’re not ‘just’ anything,” he says, his voice softening as he moves closer. The warmth of his hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that’s escaped down your skin. “You’re the smartest, kindest, most talented person I know. You’re the one person I need with me, no matter what.”
Your chest tightens, the weight of his words overwhelming. “Niall, you don’t understand—”
“Stop,” he says quietly. “I understand more than you think.”
“I’m scared,” you whisper, your voice trembling as the words claw their way out of you. “Of messing this up. Of losing you.”
“You’re not gonna lose me,” he murmurs, leaning closer. His breath is warm against your skin, and the hand cradling your cheek moves to the back of your neck. “But I need you to stop talking, just for a second.”
Before you can respond, his lips are on yours, soft and searching.
The kiss steals the breath from your lungs, and for a moment, the world tilts on its axis. His hand slides into your hair, holding you gently but firmly, and every nerve ending in your body sparks to life. You can taste the faintest hint of mint on his lips, feel the heat radiating off him, and the way he pulls you closer like you’re the only thing tethering him to earth.
For a fleeting moment, you forget your fears.
But then they come crashing back.
You pull away, your heart pounding as you put a hand on his chest to create distance. “Niall, I—”
He searches your face, his brow furrowing as if he can see the storm brewing behind your eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I… I just…” You shake your head, the words tangling in your throat. “I need time.”
His hand drops slowly from your hair, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he nods, his voice soft. “Okay. I’ll wait. As long as you need.”
Your chest aches at the tenderness in his tone, but all you can manage is a nod before you turn away, trying to calm the whirlwind inside you.
…
Part 3
#one direction fanfiction#niall horan x reader#frat boy niall x reader#niall horan x y/n#niall horan x you#niall x reader#niall horan fanfiction
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Hello wonderful people!
We are back again this year with our wonderful Dreamling Week, which will be taking place from June 2nd to June 8th this year!

Our stance on plagiarism and AI
We do not accept nor condone the use of plagiarism, including the use of AI, whether in writing or art. If you are caught using either, you will be disqualified from the current event and barred entry for the other events the Mr. Sadman team puts forward.
Disclaimer : all images used in our graphics come from the Unsplash Archive (https://unsplash.com/about) which are free to use.
General Rules and Information
Being a server member, while strongly advised, is not mandatory for this event. Our AO3 collection will be entirely open and unmoderated for everyone to post. We will be accepting late submissions, so fear not if you don’t have time to post everything you wanted to post! Additional events, such as watch-parties, fic read-alongs and game nights, will be held on the server.
The official tags for this year’s edition are : #Dreamling Week 2024 and #Dreamling Week
For reblogging purposes, make sure your tumblr blog is visible in searches and don’t be shy to tag our account (mr-sadman)! Unfortunately, despite our vigilance, some posts can evade our attention, if that’s the case, please DM us and we will rectify the situation.
Official AO3 Collection : Dreamling Week 2024 [link]
If you are under the age of 18, you will not be able to create explicit content for the event. Just to reiterate, Mr. Sadman is a 16+ server.
The Mr. Sadman Modteam is a firm believer of “ship and let ship” as well as the kinktomato (https://fanlore.org/wiki/Kinktomato). In accordance with the Server’s existing rules, we will not tolerate any discrimination and harassment in any forms whatsoever. This includes: queerphobia, homophobia, racism, content policing, hate speech, doxxing, shaming, etc, as well as hostility towards organisers and fellow participants.
Since the event is a few weeks away, what can I do now?
Spread the word and the joy! We have decided to post the prompts earlier this year to give more time for people to get creative!
Without further ado here is this year’s prompt list :

Sunday 2nd Hunt Body swap Indulgence [First Time] Monday 3rd Pirates Hourglass Flowers [Exhibitionism] Tuesday 4th Steampunk/Solarpunk Painting Meet cute/ugly [Massage] Wednesday 5th Shapeshifter Storm Finger food [Dirty] Thursday 6th Soulmates Lecture Midsummer [Friends with benefits] Friday 7th Through the ages Nightmare Monochromatic [Hate sex] Saturday 8th Assassins Memories Sunrise/Sunset [Roleplay]
FAQs/TLDR

FAQs :
When is the event ? From June 2nd to June 8th! While you should post the prompt for each day it is associated with, we will also be accepting late submissions, so have no worry!
Can I combine prompts? YES!! Be sure to indicate which days and prompts you are using in your description, otherwise, go free! You can post on either days associated with your prompts, or, if it’s a multipart work, on each corresponding day!
Is there any content restriction ? We accept all works of all mediums - writing, art, collages, playlists, podfics, translations, video edits, etc. - , whether they are SFW, NSFW and/or triggering. Writers and artists- tag appropriately ; Readers and viewers - be mindful of tags!
Where should I post my work ? Anywhere from Tumblr or AO3!! We have accounts on both platforms and we also have an AO3 collection : Dreamling Week 2024 [link]!
What tag should I use for visibility ? We recommend using both #Dreamling Week and #Dreamling Week 2024 as well as tag our account (mr-sadman) ! We will try our best to reblog every entry but if you see that we haven’t reblogged/retweeted your post yet, don’t be afraid to DM us! Make sure your blog settings are set so that your posts appear in searches - otherwise we might not see them!
Are polyamorous ships accepted ? Yes!! As long as the focus of your entry is Dreamling, poly-ships are absolutely accepted!
Do I need to be a part of the server to participate? Absolutely not! Dreamling Week is open to all! Although some additional events (such as a watch party, game nights and fic read-alongs) will be held on the server, submissions do not need to come from server members only!!
I need help, how do I reach a mod?
If there is something that is not covered by our rules masterpost and/or FAQ, you are very free to reach out to us in the Discord server’s dedicated channel or in Tumblr DMs!
Keep on Dreamling!~ <3
#dreamling week#dreamling week 2024#mr sadman#the sandman#dreamling#dream x hob#sandman fanfic#the sandman netflix#sandman fanart#sandman#the sandman fanart#dream of the endless#hob gadling
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|12 Days of Drabbles| |Day 3: Last Stop|

{ArtStudent!Hongjoong X Male!Reader}
{Plot; Hongjoong is on a bus to an art exhibit when a certain someone falls asleep on his shoulder.}
{Word count; 670}
{Tags; Non-idol au, male reader, Fluf, Awkward situations (they cute tho)}
Hongjoong threw away his plastic coffee cup in the trash, and with his book bag’s strap on his shoulder, he went aboard the bus; it would only be a good 20 minutes to the nearest art exhibit. “Hey, is it fine if I sit here?” Another guy, Hongjoong guessed was around his age, asked with a polite smile; he looked almost as tired as Hongjoong was; he probably hadn’t had any coffee like Hongjoong had earlier. “Yeah.” Hongjoong replied, and the other man slumped down in the seat beside Hongjoong and rested his head back; his fluttering eyelids told Hongjoong he was trying not to doze off.
The next few minutes proved to be a bit of a snooze fest for the stranger next to Hongjoong; he was asleep faster than a kid on Christmas Eve, and he took it as his cue to really look at the man. His features and form intrigued Hongjoong, and his questions grew as he looked at him with a studious gleam in his eyes. Why was this guy so sleepy? Was he a student at some university or school like Hongjoong was?. His pencil pressed onto the paper of his notebook in the shape of the man before he realized it; artists drew strangers all the time; Hongjoong drew countless art models in his classes as well; besides, it wasn’t like Hongjoong was going to use this sleeping stranger’s face in a major project; it was only practice. As Hongjoong’s pencils drew out to his heart's content, he felt a sudden weight on his shoulders; he didn’t need to turn to see the stranger's head was now resting against him. He took a moment to take in the awkwardness of the moment; there was no doubt anyone else on the nearby seats didn’t notice.
Hongjoong found himself in an odd crossroads his lonely heart didn’t think he’d have to face; the bus was only five minutes from the art museum by now, and he also didn’t know how long this stranger was planning on taking a nap for, but the prospect of having to physically move the man’s head from his shoulder made him anxious. Waking up to find a stranger cradling your face wasn’t a situation anybody would want to find themselves in; Hongjoong considered if it was more or less awkward than the man waking up to find his head on a stranger’s shoulder and making him uncomfortable. But he didn’t even want to wake him up; he had to admit this guy resting on him had quite the looks. Did that only make things feel more awkward to Hongjoong? Yes.
As the bus halted to a stop, Hongjoong’s anxiety nearly skyrocketed; he had to get off or else he’d miss his stop, but he couldn’t let this man next to him remain a stranger. Luckily the bus driver honked, which startled the stranger awake, his eyes rapidly blinking away his unrest. “OH, sorry about that. I assume this is your stop?” “Yeah, it is.” Hongjoong got up and almost left until his gut made him face the stranger again. “Do you want to come with me?- I mean, I was just going to grab some more coffee and, um—
“Sure, I was just going to the art exhibit here as well. We should go together. The stranger Got up, and they headed out the bus and onto the pavement; Hongjoong’s heart felt like it was soaring. “My name’s Y/N, by the way.” He smiled again at Hongjoong; this Y/N really was a heartthrob if he could make Hongjoong flustered at the mere thought of them having a shared passion for art. “I’m Hongjoong.” He responded before he made things awkward; Y/N and Hongjoong shook hands. “I know a great place nearby; I always go before heading to the exhibit.”
As Hongjoong followed close beside Y/N to his favorite coffee shop, he couldn’t help but think about how lucky he was to run into someone like him on his last stop.
#ateez#atiny#ateez fic#atz#ateez x reader#ateez x male reader#ateez x ftm reader#ateez scenarios#ateez reactions#ateez hongjoong#ateez fluff#kim hongjoong x reader#ateez imagines#ateez fanfic#fluff#drabble#ateez drabbles#kpop#gay#art school au#art au#kim hongjoong#kim hongjoong x male reader#thank you#<3#awkward#12 days of christmas#12 Days of Drabbles
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Written for @steddiebingo.
Climb You Like a (Christmas) Tree
12 Days of Christmas Prompt: Santa | Word Count: 2806 | Rating: E | CW: Monsterfucking | POV: Steve | Tags: Modern AU, Steve "Santa Claus" Harrington, Krampus Eddie Munson, Size Difference, Banter, Fluff and Smut, Is It Still Monsterfucking If They're Both Kind of Monsters?
This follows: Same Time Next Year?
Also here on ao3.
The same artist that did Krampus did a version of Santa and that had to be what I based Steve off. I wasn't even going to do Steve as Santa, but that made it a necessity. It honestly worked out nicely that I had both Krampus and Santa as bingo prompts.
"I'm getting fat," Steve says, looking in the mirror. None of his clothes fit. His pants won't even close enough to button anymore. Hell, he swears he's fucking getting taller. He can't get taller. He went through puberty a long, long time ago.
"You're not fat," Eddie says, sharpening his claws in a way that hurts Steve's ears.
"Stop that," he snaps.
"Oh, your hearing is expanding, too?" Eddie asks.
"What about my hearing?" Steve demands, putting his hands on his hips.
"You're changing. Ahead of schedule. This usually takes longer. Immortality lasts a while, you know. Forever."
Eddie snaps his fingers, and suddenly he has a pair of red velvet pants in his hand. He tosses them to Steve. There are two big, solid gold jingle bells right in front.
"Very funny," Steve says, but he puts them on, because at least they fit.
In his hands they looked way too long, but now that they're on his body, they seem to be hitting him right where they should.
He's fucking taller.
"Am I seriously getting taller?!" Steve demands, but not really believing it. Because there's no way. He always wanted to be taller, but not like this. This had better not be some sort of delayed wish granting situation.
"By the day, I can hear your bones growing," Eddie says with glee, making a horrible creaking noise. "Music to my ears."
"Stop that," Steve says, it's like nails on a chalkboard, which Eddie would definitely be scratching his claws against if he had a chalkboard handy.
Steve can't believe this, though. Taller? He cannot be getting taller. Eddie never told him he was gonna Hulk Out to be Santa. Eddie didn't tell him a lot of things.
"You're Saint Nick," Eddie says, "that comes with height. And girth. Lots of girth. Everywhere."
Steve whips his head around, and Eddie is smiling, flicking his long tongue in and out of his mouth, like a menace.
Like a goddamn demon.
And Steve's incredibly fond of him.
Eddie's changing, too. His vocabulary is growing as fast as Steve's waistline. He's becoming more and more human under that Krampus skinsuit.
"Well, you seem more human," Steve accuses, trying to dig at him a little bit in return.
Eddie's unbothered by that, apparently, "Well, I was human, once upon a time."
"Then why with all the gruff?" Steve asks. Eddie was barely grinding out single syllable words when they first met.
"Disuse," Eddie says, stroking his long goatee with his knobby fingers, "I didn't like the last Nick. We didn't see eye-to-eye, so I had no reason to speak to him for centuries."
"But me?" Steve asks.
"You I like," Eddie says, and Steve smiles, then frowns, as he looks back at himself in the mirror. He didn't know he was signing up to look like Santa Claus.
"How big am I gonna get?" Steve asks, and he's a little scared of the answer.
"Big enough for me to climb you like a tree," Eddie says, and Steve isn't sure if he's joking or not.
He'd better be joking.
He wasn't joking.
Steve barely recognizes himself anymore. He feels like himself on the inside, but on the outside? He's definitely changed.
Without making a single adjustment on his own, he's suddenly built like a brick shithouse.
Solid muscle over an exaggeratedly large frame. He's not fat. Not really. But he's built as if the biggest NFL O-lineman, met the tallest NBA player, and then had a long-haired, long-bearded baby. All of it, white as the driven snow.
"Did the last Santa look like this?" Steve asks.
"Hell no. He was a feeble old man. Think a fat Dumbledore," Eddie says, and then adds. "The first one."
"You said I wasn't fat!" Steve argues.
"You aren't, he was. Use those big ears and listen," Eddie banters. He's funny. Evil, certainly. But funny.
Then Steve thinks about what he'd actually said:
"You watch movies?!" Steve squawks, and he can't imagine the Krampus he met in the woods sitting in front of a television set. "Do you have HBO? Netflix?"
"Shut up," Eddie laughs, "it's a long time between Christmases."
Steve smiles.
"So, he looked like that, and I look like this?"
Eddie grins wickedly, "It's certainly been an improvement."
Steve's not the only one changing.
"Dingus, look at my hair!" Robin yells, and Steve doesn't have to look to know exactly what's happened.
He turns and faces the music.
Oh. It's not that bad. In fact, it's pretty.
She hasn't grown, upward or outward, thank god, or he'd never hear the end of that, but her hair is now a sleek, white bob.
"Wow, you're beautiful," he says, because she is. She isn't like any Mrs. Claus he's ever seen before. She's not old, or dowdy, in the slightest.
"Be serious," she says, hands on her hips.
"I am," he says. "I really am."
"Steve," she says, as she runs her hand over her new hair, but she's smiling. Just a little.
Good. She should.
Walking over, he towers over her now, but he wraps her up in a hug, his huge biceps swallowing her around the shoulders, "Thanks for agreeing to spend forever with me."
"And me," comes the snarky voice, seemingly appearing behind Steve out of thin air, and Robin groans.
"You're not a selling point, you're literal hellspawn," Robin banters at Eddie, laying her cheek against Steve's soft, white Henley. He's Santa. But modern. So, it kind of makes sense that she'd be a modern Mrs. Claus, too.
Eddie and Robin might bicker, but he knows they like one another. They're both just jealous. He has the magic to know who's naughty, who's nice, and that doesn't exclude either of them. Eddie is naughty by nature, but that doesn't extend to what he feels for Steve, or Robin, because she's a beloved extension of Steve.
Steve doesn't tell either of them he knows all this, and just lets them continue to act like they aren't friends.
It's easier that way, and more fun.
"What in the fuck are you wearing?" Steve asks, taking in Eddie's current appearance.
"Tsk, tsk, Santa shouldn't use naughty language like that. Might get himself on a list for a spanking," Eddie says, from under some sort of pelt.
"Did you skin a reindeer?" Steve asks, "That better not be Rudolph. He gets picked on enough."
"Because they never let him join in any reindeer games?" Eddie asks, then laughs like the demon he is from under his fur cloak.
Steve puts his hands on his hips. That's not an answer.
"Baby, it's cold outside, and I'm meant for a warmer climate," Eddie says, pointing downward.
Steve grins, just a little. He knows it was a sacrifice — and not the kind Eddie likes — to spend the year in the North Pole instead of in the underworld. But, Eddie wants to be with him, and Steve needs to be here.
It's a compromise. And Steve thinks more humans should be capable of making those, too, if even Krampus can do it.
"I like it, it looks warm," Steve says, but he really does hope it's not one of the reindeer. At least not one of the main nine. Maybe someone from the backup squad could be sacrificed for Eddie's warmth. Maybe.
Eddie's been a good sport. Well, he's been a sport. Steve needed to learn the ropes, and wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of spending most of the year in hell, either. So, Eddie's here.
Unfortunately, the elves hate that Eddie's decided to call the North Pole home. They call him Belsnickel behind his back, and it just makes Steve laugh and think of Dwight Schrute. He wonders if Eddie's seen The Office, or if he's just more of a fantasy film kind of creature.
"It's not a reindeer, calm your tits. Your big, burly tits."
Steve gives him a pretend disapproving look, because if he lets him run wild, they all suffer.
But, that's something at least. Steve won't ask any further questions. It is what it is, and it isn't what it isn't, and Steve's moral compass isn't exactly pointing towards true north these days, despite their current location.
Another day in Santa's workshop behind them, with the sign counting down the days to Christmas flipping lower, Steve lays in his big sleigh bed. It's a bit on the nose, with red, satin sheets, but it's sturdy, so he doesn't mind.
Plus, Eddie's in it.
The first time they did this, Eddie towered over Steve. Now, the tables have turned as Eddie slides up Steve's solid belly, tightening his thighs down against Steve's bare skin.
The fur on them tickles, just a little. Eddie isn't a man, at least not all man, but he's so expressive that Steve sometimes forgets that.
Now, rutting against his belly, he seems more animal-like.
Steve wraps his large hand around Eddie's cock, and grins wickedly, "Not so big now."
Eddie bares his teeth, sharp points that are all bark, no bite, at least when it comes to Steve.
Steve laughs, "Easy, tiger."
Eddie grabs a hold of his tail, and runs the tuft of hair on the end against Steve's ribs, making Steve twist with laughter, "Okay, okay, uncle!"
Appeased, Eddie lets it go, and gently scratches his claws down Steve's chest. It feels good. Really, really good.
Steve rolls Eddie's heavy balls in his large palm. He doesn't know where they go. He should look like a squirrel with his nuts always prominently on display, but somehow doesn't. Must be magic. Or, they just retract into his body like his cock does when not in use.
Steve doesn't know. He should ask. He's sure Eddie would give him an explicit demonstration.
Eddie grinds against Steve's rounded middle, and Steve can't believe this is life. He just went for a run. Now he's Santa Claus and Eddie is his demon companion. Light and dark, good and evil.
Steve strokes him with a careful fist.
He's cautious in a way he never had to be until recently. Eddie'd probably enjoy a little pain, but Steve is still getting used to all the changes his physical body has gone through. His hand feels like it's the size of a dinner plate. That might be an exaggeration. But he feels like that.
Everything he touches feels smaller these days, and he thinks he looks like Shaq always looks holding a can of pop with everything he touches. Including Eddie.
Steve wonders if he's still the monsterfucker or if he's unwittingly became the monsterfuckee.
He'll ask Robin.
But Steve knows he still looks like a man, just a scaled-up version, so he'll keep his monsterfucker title. Eddie can be a Santafucker, if that jingles his bells.
"Oh Satan, split me wide, send me to hell," Eddie says, and Steve laughs. There's dirty talk, and then there's…that. But he gets the sentiment. Everything grew with him proportionally, and that means his already above average dick is still impressive against his large frame. Eddie's bouncing up and down, working himself open on it, and if it wasn't obvious before, it's obvious now, that they aren't mere mortals anymore.
"You've got it wrong. That's a synonym. I'm Santa not Satan," Steve banters.
Eddie groans, annoyed, "It's an anagram, not a synonym. No. Wait. Santa and Satan do mean the same thing, currently. Carry on."
Steve grins. Eddie talks and talks, but Steve has his number, and presses up into him in just the right way. Eddie howls as he comes all over Steve's belly. Still fisting his deep red cock, thumb pressing against every ridge, still chasing more, and he doesn't give up until he comes again, adding to the mess.
Only then does Steve let go, coming inside him.
"Hot damn," Eddie says, stretching, arms above his head.
Then he smiles down at Steve, wickedly.
"Roll over, my tongue has places to be."
And Steve's not gonna argue with that.
Steve thinks Eddie is part demon, part goat. He never tells the truth, though, so he can't be sure. But laying against the red satin sheets, asleep, long hair fanned out, he's beautiful as far as Steve's concerned. He got lucky. Most probably wouldn't say getting fucked in the woods by a monster, and then being chosen to become his immortal companion, would be a win.
Steve isn't most people. He wasn't before, and he definitely isn't now.
"What?" Eddie asks groggily.
"I see you when you're sleeping," Steve teases.
"I'm glad your eyes still work, grandpa," Eddie banters back.
Steve laughs. Yeah, he needs glasses now. And, yeah, his hair has gone long and white. But he's happy. Jolly, even.
He pulls up his velvet pants, the ones with the bells, and straps on his thick leather suspenders.
"Sleep, hellspawn. I have a workshop to run," Steve says, and Eddie closes his eyes again.
The elves are happy to see him, and even happier to not see Eddie at his side. They'll warm up to him. It's inevitable.
Robin is giving directions, keeping the whole operation running, and he smiles at her.
"About time, old man," she says, and starts giving him the rundown of today's schedule. What they're making, how many, and what's already on the docket for tomorrow. It's a well-oiled machine here in Santa's workshop, he's just the figurehead.
But he still goes around, visiting each station, chatting with the elves that are the backbone of the place.
When he goes back to his bedroom, Eddie is hunkered down in the corner near the fireplace chattering in a language Steve doesn't speak, probably communing with his minions.
He finishes up, and Steve has settled near the window. The snow outside always makes everything look so bright.
"Here, think fast," Steve says, and Eddie looks up just in time to catch the orange. Then he joins him at the table.
Eddie slides a claw through the thick skin, starting to peel it easily. Then he offers segments to Steve, and they share it sitting around the little table. They must look funny together. Steve, an oversized Santa, and Eddie, a still oversized, just less so, demon goatman. Eating an orange. At the North Pole.
Steve has a pile of letters to Santa to answer, and he slides half of them to Eddie, "Be nice. I'll know if you're naughty."
"What if they're naughty?"
"Then their letter isn't in this pile. You know that."
Eddie grumbles, but he'll do it, because Steve asked. Robin will double-check Eddie's work to make sure he didn't go off-script. It's happened before.
"I don't know why you insist on putting an orange in every kid's stocking," Eddie complains, but he keeps eating, so he's kind of answering his own question.
He picks up the pen, and it looks funny in his knobby fingers.
"It's tradition," Steve says. There was a handbook, and Steve read it. Then Robin read it, and made sure he understood it.
There are different ways he can change things up, if he so chooses, but the oranges in the stockings don't seem to be optional.
"Sixty-nine days till Christmas," Steve says.
"I'll get my paddling rod shined up."
"I thought we talked about that," Steve says, a raised eyebrow.
Eddie bares his teeth.
Steve chuckles.
"Maybe Santa will bring me a new one, then, if he's so selfish that he wants mine all to himself."
"Maybe he will," Steve answers. "You'll just have to wait and see. Maybe write Santa a letter and ask real nice."
Eddie glowers.
"Or you could ask the elves."
Eddie narrows his eyes, but not before they flash red.
Steve pulls his sack closer, the one he still doesn't understand the bottomless magic on. It's like Hermione's bag, with the undetectable extension charm.
He reaches in and pulls out something, squeezed in his fist. He turns his hand over, and opens it, offering it to Eddie.
It's a lump of coal.
Eddie laughs, picks it up and puts it in his mouth, chewing.
"My favorite," he says through blackened teeth.
He's something else.
But then Steve pulls out a brand new birchwood rod. It's carved, and has red ruby on the end of the handle.
He hands it over, and Eddie smiles.
"I guess I was a good boy this year."
Steve laughs, "You were something, for sure."
"Can I try it on you?" Eddie asks, a glint in his eye.
"No, that is the whole point!"
Eddie weighs it in his hand, and meets Steve's eyes, "Maybe there could be a third rod."
Steve shakes his head, but he's already moving towards the bed, his hands working his belt, the bells on his pants jingling all the way as they hit the ground.
You can see my updated cards and all my filled bingo prompts right here.
If you want to sign up for a future bingo event or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiebingo and follow along with the fun! 🎅
Notes: I knew so very little about Krampus, that this became a rabbit hole. Man, I had fun, though. As soon as I saw he was a companion to St. Nick, it basically wrote itself.
When I wanted the elves to have a nickname for him, and googled "nicknames for Krampus" and saw that Belsnickel was one, so that had to happen. Like, there's a reference Steve will get, and be tickled by.
#steddiebingo2025#steddiebingo#prompt: santa#bingo event: 12 days of christmas#santa steve harrington#monster eddie munson#krampus eddie#steddie#steddie ficlet#eddie munson#steve harrington#platonic stobin#steve x eddie#steddie fan fic#steddie fic#stranger things#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddiebingo
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~Let's talk about credit~
(not financial credit trust me you don't want to take financial advice from me lol)
No, today I am inviting y'all to the table to talk about the importance of crediting other creators in fandom!
Because, listen. We don't have a peer-review system. We don't have to submit our stuff to a plagiarism checker or go through stringent editing when shitposting on tumblr; we operate in an honor system of crafting folklore using our favorite blorbos, and that means that inspiration and using the specific words and images from canon creates a grey area on what ought to be credited, and how to do it in a way that creates a solid, strong community.
Here's a little of my philosophy and how I give proper credit where it's due, so I figured I'd share them to hopefully encourage others in making sure no one out there ends up becoming fandom's James Somerton
1. Links are your friends, use them enthusiastically
Drooled over a gifset that made you write a poem? Read a fic that made you pull out your embroidery hoop? Saw some art that made you write a song? Link to the original! Tag the original artist, hyperlink to the giffer, share the fic via the amazing shortcut button on Ao3, it's what those creators deserve! Even if it's a shitpost, that creator is where your idea started, and it's the right thing to do to share directly where your audience can connect with the person who inspired you.
This holds INFINITELY true if you are directly quoting someone. If you've used someone else's words to create your own work, link back to the original. No one wants to be sent a fic or a funny post on tumblr and then feel the sinking pit in their stomach when they realize that post is their own words with someone else's name on them.
2. Ask for permission when you can
Now, the reason I threw the addendum on this with "when you can" is because knowing when to ask for permission is more of an art versus a science. I myself have written more than one fic inspired by art where I didn't reach out to the artist before I shared the fic because I had no contact with them (the joys of me refusing to touch the garbage that is the bird site). BUT this is why point number one is to always link back to the original inspiration, because I believe that should always be the bare minimum.
THAT BEING SAID.
If you have a way of contacting the original fellow fandom person who inspired you? Reach out and ask them if they'd feel comfortable with you creating something! 999 times out of 1000, they're gonna be over the MOON you want to create something inspired by what they made, and they'll be really fucking pleased you reached out to check.
3. Ask yourself: is this a "two cakes" situation or am I putting my name on someone else's cake?
This is another one that can absolutely fall into a bit of a grey area. I have written many a fic that started out with me reading a take or a fic that went in a WILDLY different direction from what I was expecting or wanted, and I went "okay, fuck it. I'll write my own." And that's absolutely been a great motivator for me to start a project!
HOWEVER.
That is me creating a different flavor of cake, putting my own frosting on it, and probably adding something weird like lemon zest and instant coffee for a lemonade cappucino chiffon that shouldn't work (but definitely does, trust me)
If I were to have read a fic or a take and then gone, "Oh, yeah, definintely, here's the same idea but now I've rephrased it juuust a little and now it's under MY username on my blog".... that's slapping a different color of frosting on the same cake and claiming it's mine. If you find yourself doing that, I really invite you to pause and consider why you felt the need to do so instead of sharing the original post.
Like, not to bring Shakespeare into it (they say, poorly concealing their icon), but fandom can be exactly like how Juliet views love. Sharing joy in what others have created absolutely can be as "boundless as the sea [...] the more I give [...], the more I have, for both are infinite". It does not take away from the joy your fellow fandom friends will have in your own original work to share the work of others.
4. Hyping up your inspiration is FUN
Finally, this is more of me going "no really, proper credit isn't going to mean people love YOU less" because I truly believe in the power of how much FUN it really is to give credit where it's due. I was buzzing for WEEKS in anticipation of publishing Objection! and The 'I Duoy' Newlywed Special because the marvelous @jackuntiljune had brainstromed with me on the name for the boat my boys eloped on. And I get so fucking giddy when I see someone comment on those fics about the name of the boat because I get to take a giant breath and go "MY FRIEND JACK CAME UP WITH IT, AREN'T THEY AMAZING?!"
If you practice giving credit where it's due, I promise promise PROMISE it will become a joy. It's FUN getting to bring more people into the sandbox to play, and I know I love it when there's more than one person out there I can yell at (affectionate) when I've been emotionally destroyed (again, affectionate) by a gifset or art or fic <3
Thanks so much for reading this far! I can't wait to keep sharing inspiration with all of you out there
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