#and buddy you are WELCOME to try arguing with them but i personally have spent years not getting results from that

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

neurotypical people will be like "yeah loud noises bother me too" and meanwhile i once had to sit in a closet clutching a pillow sob-rocking for 2.5 hours because a fire alarm went off for a few seconds

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 13

Dabi x Reader , Bakugo x Reader

Words : 3125

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together.

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

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

You watched as Dabi paced in front of you as you hugged your knees to your chest. Shoto had come to sit next to you and you were grateful for his calming presence. He kept giving you a weird look and then looking at his brother. He obviously wanted to ask what was going on between the two of you, but you mouthed, “later” at him and he shrugged it off.

“Ok. So what? He has a list of my safe houses. That’s okay… That’s arguably a good thing actually.” Dabi was thinking out loud trying, and even though his voice sounded calm, you could see the way his hands balled into fists so tight his staples were pulling.

“No one knows about this place. This is the safest house out of all of them. I bought it after I left the League, it’s in the middle of nowhere, and the security is the best money can buy.” He stopped his pacing and looked at his brother, “So…”

Shoto draped a lazy arm around you and you released a tense breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. He quirked his head at his older brother, “So…? What? Why is that a good thing?”

Dabi’s eyes got this scary look. They practically glowed and you could tell whatever he was thinking probably wasn’t good. “It means we can pick them off. Set up traps for them at my other safe houses. It might take some time… we won’t know what houses they’re targeting so at first it’ll be a lot of guess work.” You could see a scheme hatching behind his eyes and for once he truly looked like a villain. “You said Bakugo was already out looking for them, right? I can meet up with him! They’re my houses after all, no one knows them better than me.”

He took off towards the bedroom mumbling something about needing to pack. Your wide eyes connected with Shoto’s, “How long before he remembers he’d have to leave me behind and panics?”

Shoto hummed, “I’d say about thirty seconds after he’s done packing.” He shrugged, “It’s not a bad plan honestly. I see he’s gotten rather attached to you lately though.”

You could hear the unspoken question and you weren’t sure you were ready to jump into that conversation just yet. It was bad enough that Katsuki knew. You shrugged and averted your eyes back to the door Dabi had disappeared behind. “We’ve gotten pretty close. You learn a lot about someone when you’re stuck in a house with them.”

“SHIT!”

Shoto sighed, “Sounds like he just remembered.”

Dabi stomped back into the living room and stopped a few feet in front of you. His stare was intense almost like he was trying to see through you. You could see his frustration growing as he battelled internally over what he should do. “I can’t leave you here by yourself… I don’t want to leave you at all. But- But I can’t take you with me either.” You could see his mind running a mile a minute trying to come up with a solution.

“You can leave me here, I’m not totally useless. I have the collar, so you can call me, check on my location and vitals and all that creepy shit.” You gestured to the younger Todoroki sitting next to you, “And I’m sure your brother and Izuku are dying to have some time to catch up. They can keep me company. Kiri too if need be.”

Dabi kneeled in front of you and laid his arms on either side of you, caging you in. “It would drive me insane leaving you here.”

You brushed your thumb over the spot between his eyes, smoothing out his worried expression. “More insane than if you stayed here and let Katsuki handle this on his own?”

His body sagged and he leaned his forehead onto your shoulder. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it sounds like you want me to go.”

You leaned your head on his. “Of course I don’t want you to go idiot. But I hate to break it to you, I know you pretty well… And I don’t think sitting here day after day listening to you complain about how you could do it better, sounds like fun.” He groaned because he knew you were right. “So, go ahead and go. I’ll be fine here I promise. Go catch some bad guys with Katsuki.”

“Ugh don’t say it like that. You make is sound like a cheesy buddy cop movie. I just hope your little hero friend isn’t squeamish because I’m not going to hold back.”

Shoto cleared his throat, “Some of us… little heroes… have seen enough shit to last a lifetime. Bakugo’s the hardest working and grittiest out of us all, so believe me when I say you don’t need to worry about him.”

Dabi narrowed his eyes at his brother who he had just realized was practically cuddling with you. “Seeing death and dealing it out are two different things. I know he’s capable of killing someone, but mentally I don’t think he could cross that line.” He held a hand up to stop Shoto from arguing with him. “And I don’t care if he doesn’t want to get his precious hero hands dirty. Because that’s what I’m here for, and I’m honestly looking forward to it.”

You huffed, “Listen, I really don’t like the look you get when you talk about killing people. It’s sick… killing isn’t supposed to be fun you psychopath.”

His eyes shifted back to yours, “Baby girl. I want to make something clear. I will find the sick fucks that kidnapped you. I will torture them in the most painful and humiliating ways possible. By the time I’m done… they will welcome death with open arms. I’ll be doing them a favor.” His forehead pressed against yours. “Unless you’d rather I save them for you…My destroyer of men.”

You hit his shoulder, “I’d rather you let Katsuki arrest them! You know how I feel about killing villains.”

His hand gripped the back of your neck hard to force you to look at him, “…No. You know I can’t do that. The sooner you accept that, the easier all of this will be.” His thumb rubbed your cheek, “I know it sucks. But this is the world you live in now. We can’t trust anyone but ourselves.”

Shoto cleared his throat, “Listen I don’t know what is going on between the two of you, but I would appreciate it if you refrained from being kinky in my presence.”

Dabi growled, “Fuck off! You literally let yourself in unannounced… When all of this over I swear we’re leaving the fucking country. I’m so sick of you brats just coming over whenever you feel like it. We’re gonna leave and you’ll never see us again.”

Shoto quirked an eyebrow, “So… Even after all of this is resolved… you plan to still live with y/n?” You could see the gears turning in his head as he pieced all of this together. “Hmm interesting.” He got up and stretched. “Well I guess I’ll give you guys some alone time to… do whatever this is… just without me having to witness it.”

“Hey before you go… You sure you’re okay with keeping an eye on her while I’m gone?” You hadn’t heard Dabi sound so uncertain before. Usually he carried so much confidence that it was overwhelming. But now he sounded lost.

Shoto nodded, “Yeah it’s not a big deal. Izuku and I can take shifts. Kirishima will probably take over every now and then depending on how long you are gone… But we don’t mind. Y/n was right when she said we’d like to catch up with her.” He gave you an awkward wink that was completely out of character for him. “You’ve been hoarding her all to yourself for months now.” He walked down the hall and shouted, “Try not to be too loud. I’ll just pick the room that smells the least like sex.”

“Good luck! I’ve fucked her on every surface of the hou—” You slammed a hand over Dabi’s mouth to cut him off.

You hid your face in Dabi’s shoulder to stifle your laugh. “I love your brother so much. He has no filter and it’s honestly so refreshing.”

A quick slap to your thigh had you gasping, “I don’t appreciate you talking about my brother that way.” He nipped at your earlobe harshly, “Especially after I just agreed to let him stay here while I’m gone.”

Before you could respond he was standing up and throwing you over his shoulder, “I think I need to remind you who you fucking belong to.” He slapped your ass as you shrieked, “I might be gone for a while, so I think I need to give you something to remember.”

“You are so ridiculous! He’s literally in a committed relationship with another man!”

Dabi tossed you onto his bed and immediately fell on top of you. “He’s also my brother and I know that slut swings both ways.” He bit down hard on your shoulder, “I’m going to leave my fucking mark all over you before I go.” He sucked a bruise into your neck, “Tonight… I’m going to claim every fucking inch of you.”

He had you naked underneath him within seconds, kissing down the column of your neck. He continued down to suck a nipple into his mouth and you had to bite down on your lip to keep from screaming.

“Come on baby, let him hear you. Let him hear how good I treat you. Let him know that there is only one Todoroki for you.”

You wanted to argue with him. There was no way Shoto was interested in you at all. He’d been in love with Izuku since high school. But you were also enjoying the way Dabi was marking his territory. There was something so peaceful about giving up control to another person, especially someone you trust.

You let him kiss and suck and grope every part of you. In this moment you were his to do with as he wished. You didn’t care he was leaving mark after mark on your skin. He was claiming you, he was daring others to lay a finger on what it is his. And you fucking loved it. You loved the peace and the comfort that came with the idea of him declaring that you are his. The security of knowing he wouldn’t let another soul touch you.

He bit harshly into your inner thigh, making you yelp and buck your hips.

He chuckled darkly as he came back up and rubbed his nose against yours. “Baby girl, just look at your face. I haven’t even touched your pussy yet and you already looked so fucked out.” He dragged his fingers lightly over your stomach, across your ribs, over your breast, and finally let them settle on your neck.

You shivered and closed your eyes, “Dabiiii, stop teasing me.”

His fingers tightened around your throat. “You said some shit earlier that really got under my skin. And now I can’t decide if I should punish you or not.”

Your head spun as it tried to think about what you possibly could have said to upset him. “What – what did I say?”

Dabi leaned in sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before biting down hard. “You said…. You loved my brother.”

Your heart pounded in your chest and you felt an intense heart overwhelm your face and neck. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? Was he jealous? Did he want you to say you loved him? Is that really what he wanted to hear?

You hadn’t noticed him pulling his own pants down until he was thrusting into you. “I’m a selfish man y/n. I’m greedy. I don’t share. And hearing those sweet little words said about someone else.” His hips snapped into yours harder, as his fingers got even tighter around your neck to the point where you were sure there would be bruises.

His pace picked up and you could feel the sweat dripping from his forehead, “I wanna hear you say it. Who do you love?”

Your eyes rolled back as you croaked out a horse “you”

“That’s not good enough doll. I said! WHO do you FUCKIN LOVE?”

His fingers let go of your throat and as intense pleasure washed over you, leaving your legs shaking, “YOU!”

He fucked you through your orgasm before he followed right behind you, “That’s what I fuckin thought.”

He only parted with you long enough to clean the two of you up. He wandered to the bathroom to get a warm, wet towel. You hummed contently as rubbed it all over your body, especially over the sore new marks he had made on your skin. When he was satisfied, he tossed the rag to the floor to deal with later and rejoined you in bed. He pulled you to him, your back to his chest, and let out a huge sigh. “I’m really nervous about leaving you here. And it honestly makes me angry. I’ve never cared about another person like this, hell I’ve never even cared about my own well being this much.” You could feel him resting his chin on your shoulder, “It makes me feel weak and I hate it.”

You intertwined your fingers with his that were wrapped around your middle. “You know what they say about bravery right? Bravery isn’t not being scared. Only stupid people aren’t scared of anything. Bravery is being scared of something and doing it anyway.” You sank further into his embrace. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m scared too. Which is equally as frustrating.”

You could feel him kiss your shoulder, encouraging you to continue. “I used to be incredibly independent. I lived alone, I worked alone, because of the classified nature of my job I was pretty isolated. I didn’t need anyone, and I was more than happy to get shit done on my own…Now the thought doing anything without you gives me anxiety.”

He sighed, “If anything that makes me feel worse… I believe we have a classic case of codependency… it’s your fault by the way. For sucking me in to your annoyingly needy arms.”

“Says the guy who has his arms currently wrapped around me like a vice.” You wanted to stay in this sweet moment. He was never this open with you, never this soft. “And even though it’s not my fault, I will admit that I did kind of need you for everything when I first got here.” You felt his chest rumble with silent laughter. “But you never really complained, did you? To be honest I had thought you would have been… I don’t know… a little more… cold I guess.”

His hands heated up as they rubbed circles into your stomach. “To anyone else I definitely would have been.” He turned you around so he could pull your chest to his and rolled onto his back, tucking your head under his chin. “I was fucking toast the second you fell into my arms though.” He groaned, “UGH! I sound like such a pussy. I hate it.”

You pressed several kisses to his chest, “Well I don’t hate it.”

There was a long stretch of silence in which the two of you just held each other, not wanting to burst your bubble.

Dabi cleared his throat and you knew he wanted to talk about it. “Listen… While I’m gone all of the laws are still valid. You still need to take care of yourself. Just because I’m not here to force you to eat lunch doesn’t mean you don’t have to.” His fingers rubbed up and down your spine. “I’m sure if you ask the guys, they’ll work out with you, but they need to keep their filthy hands to themselves.” His hand stopped at your collar, “And as much I hate saying this. Don’t call me.”

You lifted your head and gave him a confused look, “What? You worried your side chicks will hear?”

He reached down and slapped your ass, “Shut up. I literally live with you and we never leave the house. That jokes not even funny.” His hand started to rub the same spot he had just slapped, “I’m being serious though. I don’t want you to call me. If something happens and they get my phone, or hell if they somehow capture me, I don’t want anything tying me to you. Shigaraki suspects you’re with me otherwise he wouldn’t be going through my safe houses. But he doesn’t know you’re with me, and I want to keep it that way.” His voice got quitter as he mumbled into your hair, “Besides… I think if I heard your voice I’d give up and come home.”

You froze, “Okay, that is officially the softest thing you’ve ever said to me… and I love it.”

He growled low in your ear, “That’s it, I’m going to start calling you whore, and making you call me sir. I’m losing my damn edge.”

You just giggled, knowing he was bluffing, but then again… he did get you a collar.

“I’m going to miss you… sir.”

“I’m gonna miss you too… my special little whore.”

You sarcastically beamed at him, “Aww you think I’m special?”

That night, you barley slept. You were so worried he’d leave without waking you up to say bye. So, as a consequence you woke up several times throughout the night and every time, he’d pull you closer and mumble a sleepy “still here.”

When morning finally came you sat on the bed with your kneed tucked under your chin as you watched him finish getting ready. Your eyes followed him as he walked around the room, taking his time. He knew the sooner he got dressed the sooner he’d have to leave.

Finally, when he had no other choice, he laced his boots up and looked at you. “Come here…” He held his arms out to you and you quickly slid into his embrace. “You be a good girl while I’m gone, okay?” He kissed the top of your head. “Listen to Shoto and try not to give him too much shit. Follow the laws, don’t watch any of our shows while I’m gone, if there’s any big emergencies have one of the guys call Bakugo.”

You nodded and looked up into his bright blue eyes, “You be safe, and don’t do anything stupid. Come back preferably in one piece please.”

He chuckled, “I will do my best doll.”

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

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe@unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry@dabislittlemouse@aimee1602@pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker@bestgirlb @silver-stardrop@bakubby99 @squichymochi

[graceloveswolves]

Paul Lahote Oneshot

Requested by @youralternantpersonality​

*Paul x Reader: Y/n (who’s adopted to residents in Forks) is friends with Jacob, who abandons her at her worst time (adopted parents are giving her up) because he shifts. She doesn’t like confrontation, so she just goes to the Res to return his stuff and grab hers at Billy’s when he runs into her. The pack is behind her while she and jake are arguing. She goes to leave and Paul imprints on her, not know she may or may not come back to her home town*

______________________________________________________________   “Sorry, I’m busy right now. Leave a message”

      I wiped my tears from my face and dropped my phone on my bed, trying to hold in my cries. My bestest and closest friend- ex friend- has officially decimated our friendship, with no explanation. No reason for it, all I got was “Don’t talk to me again.” and “We aren’t friends anymore.” Pretty subtle, and brutal. Even for Jacob, his words had hit deep, and with no one around me to take it out on but myself. And to make things worse, my parents-adopted parents- have told me that they can’t take care of me anymore, and that they are giving me to someone in Southern Texas for awhile, if not forever. So in a way, I guess I was going to lose Jacob Black anyway. I guess our friendship was just bound to crash and burn, just like my other ones.

   I stared at my phone, debating if I should call him back or not. I then looked around at my empty, boxed up room. Today was my last day in Forks, I spent the last week packing my room up and loading it into a moving van. Preparing to say goodbye to Forks for awhile, or at least until my adopted family could financially support me again. Which I have my doubts on, so I spent every minute I could spare, soaking up Forks before I mostly likely say goodbye to this tiny town for good.

     Unlike some, I actually enjoyed this tiny area. I felt like I had a destiny here, like I was meant to be here. I felt it deep in my bones, like I haven’t fulfilled my destiny yet. Like my existence hasn’t served its purpose here yet. Maybe its the nostalgia, or broken heart. But I felt like my fate was telling me to stay, that I wasn’t done yet. I shake my head from my sadden thoughts and pick up the last box in my room. Looking down at the label in sharpie, I read JACOB BLACK.        I sighed, closing my eyes for a few minutes. If Jake won’t answer the phone, then I guess I’ll just have to drop his stuff off at his house myself, at least then I can go grab a few of my things I left in his house over time, since we practically lived in each others houses growing up, despite being in different areas. I walked out of my ex guardians house, refusing to look at them, I get into my car, throwing the box in the back seat, feeling glad he didn’t answer the phone, at least then I have a chance of getting in and out without facing him, because after the fight we had, I don’t think I want to run into him.      I drive away from the house I once lived in, knowing that I’ll probably never see those people ever again. The people who raised me, made me who I am today. Even though they were barely in the house, and I never really grew close with either one of them, it still hurt, knowing that the only relationship I had with someone that meant something to me, apparently never meant anything to him. I bit my lip, refusing to let another tear shed over someone who didn’t give a damn about me. 

    Once I made it to Jake’s house, I turn the car off, sitting there, bracing myself to say goodbye to everything that ever made me happy. I started to recall all of the memories I had made here. From me breaking my arm for the first time, to Jake losing his tooth for the first time, to me accidentally knocking him out playing tag To him making me pass out from being in a head lock for too long. I laughed quietly to myself from the funny memory, before the sound of little tapping on my car roof snapped me back to reality. 

   I frowned up at my windshield that was quickly starting to be overruled by raindrops. Typical. Of course, could this get any worse? I thought to myself as  I got out of the car quickly, grabbing Jake’s box and making my way to the tiny house that grew to be my second home growing up. I didn’t bother knocking, since I would only be a minute and I practically lived here all my life. I opened the door quietly and set the box down on the counter as I welcomed myself into Jake’s house.

    I looked around the house and started picking up a few things that were mine like my favorite shirts, or my hairbrush. Once I searched every room but one, I bit my lip, glancing at Billy’s room, he must still be sleeping, it was still kinda early in the morning, I didn’t  search it, not wanting to wake him, I don’t think much of mine is in his room anyway. I decided to skip his room and put all my items into my purse that I had brought with me, and gave the house one more last look, before I started walking out of the tiny red house and closing the door behind me.    I gasped, meeting face to face with the last person I wanted to see right now. He had grown at least a foot, and had cut his hair, which was now cropped and soaking wet from standing in the pouring rain. “What do you think you’re doing?” Jake had questioned, in a deep and serious tone. “I-I... I tried to call you, you didn’t answer.” I clutched to my purse, taken back from the size of his muscles, he had grown at least twice the size in like two weeks.

  “You didn’t answer my question Y/n.” Jake said a little louder, I was about to snap back at him, but something caught my eye over his gigantic shoulder, it was other people, it was Sam, and his stupid minions. Anger suddenly boiled over me, everything had now made sense. He had left me for drugs, drugs and other stupid arrogant boys. Then another though crossed my mind. He didn’t leave me, he replaced me.    I was over here, tearing myself apart wondering what I did wrong, crying myself to sleep for a week, while he was sleeping peacefully and having a wonderful time not having a care in the world, no doubt doing drugs with his new buddies and partying. Fine, if I really didn’t mean anything to him, then why should he mean something to me. I shook my head in pure anger.

  “You know what Jake? You are pathetic! You dodge my calls all week and leave me with no explanation only to find out I had been replace by a bunch of stupid boys that we both hated together?! Seriously, is testosterone and steroids worth more then our friendship? Do you feel cool now? Bad boy Jake is all grown up now?!” I yell at him, backing him up to the point where we both are standing in the freezing rain. However unlike me, he hadn’t been shivering at all.        “Why are you even here? I already told you we aren’t friends anymore and I don’t want you around anymore? What part of that don’t you get?” He answered with sass, throwing his hands up. His buddies stepped closer, obviously not minding their own business. “I’m sorry that I’m having trouble grasping the fact that the only true friend that I’ve grown up with for 15 years has suddenly left me like I never meant anything. You hurt me Jake. I’m hurt. And I don’t even know w-why.” I choked on the last word, feeling my throat tighten, and tears threatening to spill.        We stood in the rain in silence, my ex best friend was looking down at the ground, as if he was trying to find something to say. I crossed my arms, standing there, drenched in the rain, waiting for him to say something, anything.

  “Go home Y/n.” Jake replied, looking down at his feet. Not even being able to look me in the face like a man. That’s when the water works started to kick in. Once he heard my sniffling, he perked his head up. I gave up trying to keep my tears in, I have had a shitty week and he deserves to know how much he’s hurt me. However, I looked up back at him, so many hateful things to spit at him floating in my head, however I couldn’t find the courage to spit them out. Because deep down I still cared for him like my brother, and I don’t want my last moments with him to be worst then they already are.    “I-I-I don’t have a h-home anym-m-more.” Was all I said to him, brushing past him, wiping my eyes from both the tears and rain. I suddenly felt his extremely warm hand wrap around my wrist and turn me around, my back facing his new crew and my car. “What is that supposed to mean?” He looked down at me, his eyes scanning my tiny figure. As if he was suddenly panicking from my response.

   “I’m moving you stupid cow! My parents can’t afford to support me anymore! I go to Texas tonight, so don’t worry, you’ll never have to see me again.” I snapped, ripping myself out of his grip, turning around not letting him have the last word. As I went to take a step, I accidentally walking right into one of his new druggie friends. Who I hadn’t realize were right behind me and were so close. The rock hard frame had caught me, leaving me stunned from whiplash. “Watch it asshole!” I spat up at him, anger snapping out. Our eyes locked, and I had noticed which one I had ran into. 

I believed his name was Paul, very hotheaded if I remember right from Jake. I suddenly regretting snapping this particular member once noticing him staring dead back at me, not letting go of my hips which were in his grasp. However as I looked closer, his stare didn’t hold anger, it held surprise, and shock. And it was making me uncomfortable, just like my soggy wet clothes I was currently in, and would be driving in, all the way to Texas. “Get off me perv!” I exclaimed, pushing the star struck guy away from me, marching my way into my car. 

 Once I was in the safety of my car, I start to uncontrollably sob. Everything that had ever happened within the years I lived here meant nothing, friendships, memories, relationships, all of it, gone. And I had to pack up and start over, leaving everything behind forever. As I drove away I couldn’t help but feel as if I left a piece of me there, like I had not finished nor served my purpose here.  Maybe I’ll come back, maybe one day I will come back and find my purpose, if it’s still waiting for me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here’s to knowing you have to wake up at 5:30am tomorrow but still staying up to write this anyways because fuck sleep, its overrated... until I hear my alarm clock. - graceloveswolves :)   

[dukeofonions]

So let me get this straight...

People were upset when unpopular blogs started popping up and people began sharing their negative opinions on Sanders Sides and the Sanders himself, right?

Even going as far as to disregard actual, legitimate concerns brought up by people who have either been hurt by Thomas or the people speaking up for them...

Because none of y'all wanna actually argue against someone when they're bringing up a good point that you can't twist to make them look worse than the guy you're blindly defending. Right?

So when we all moved into a Discord server to talk about our gripes privately, among a group of people we trusted, where we weren't hurting anyone and spent more time just chatting casually with each other about our lives...

Y'all got upset again and went on to try and be some kind of "knight in shining armor" by going into this server, taking screenshots of conversations you weren't a part of, then stick them onto Thomas's apology with no actual context, then act like you were personally doing him a favor as if he would come and thank you for bringing this to light.

So really, I'm just confused. Do you want us to be more public about our thoughts? Is talking about them among ourselves privately in a server that was easy to avoid if you didn't want to be part of it less preferable?

Heck, I'd think you'd rather us talk publicly given how much trouble you went through to get those screenshots. Could have saved you some more time if you had just looked at our blogs.

All this to say, buddy, the block button is there for a reason. If you don't want to hear what we have to say then you, along with everyone else, are more than welcome to use it. I don't blame anyone for not wanting to see anything on my blog.

If it bothers you that much, then just do what anyone else would and block us then move on.

You've already blocked my friends that you have no problem slandering on here. Why not take the next step and move along?

[captain-hen]

quiet my fears with the touch of your hand

title: quiet my fears with the touch of your hand

Summary: “In that warehouse,” Buck says. “I almost gave up.”

Eddie doesn’t bat an eyelash at his words. “I know,” He says, simply.

Buck isn’t sure why he’s saying this. He doesn’t know why he feels the need to confess this to Eddie, why this is something he needs for him to know. He also doesn’t know why Eddie is being so calm about it.

“I almost stopped fighting,” Buck continues, his voice breaking a little. 

“I know.” Eddie says, again. | Post 4x05: Buck Begins.

ao3 link

a/n: i wrote this when i should have been sleeping so it’s probably incoherent...pls excuse me..

tagging some people who may be interested: @malikjavaddzayn @evaneddie @matan4il @prettyboydiaz @firefighter-diaz  please let me know if you’d like to be added to/removed from my tag list!

Seconds after Buck knocks, the door opens and Eddie is looking at him with an arched eyebrow. "Since when do you knock?" He asks teasingly.

 Buck shrugs wordlessly. The weight of the past couple of days he's had—his parents arriving in town, finding out about Daniel, god, the fire—all had been momentarily forgotten in the time he spent with Maddie after his shift, the relief that came with forgiving her making something that had been unbalanced shift back into place in his heart. However, after leaving her apartment, it had all come crushing down on him again, leaving him shaking and breathless in the aftermath. Before knowing he was doing it, he was taking the turn to Eddie's house instead of his own apartment and now here he was.

 "You're just in time," Eddie gestures for Buck to come in. "Dinner's almost ready."

 "I—I didn't tell you I was coming, though," Buck says, confused. Eddie grins at him.

 "I had a feeling you would." Not waiting for a reply, he turns to go into the living room. "Christopher! Look who's here!"

 Buck is greeted with an armful of Chris when he enters the room and he can't help but laugh, hoisting him into his arms. Pressing his face into Chris' hair and hearing his bright laughter, Buck feels some of the tension drain from his body.

 "Hey, buddy! Hope you don't mind me coming over so unexpectedly."

 Chris giggles as Buck puts him down, as if he's said the funniest thing ever. "Don't be silly, Buck! We always want you around."

 Buck feels his eyes burn with tears inexplicably and he's relieved that Chris chooses that moment to turn around to search for a drawing he wants to show him. Eddie says nothing, instead moving past Buck to leave the room, pressing a warm hand to his shoulder as he passes him.

 Chris takes Buck's hand and tugs on it, leading him to the kitchen. Buck's eyebrows raise at the sight of Eddie pulling a pan out the oven

 "Dad cooked," Chris informs him. Buck chuckles.

 "Maybe I shouldn't have come over," He jokes. Eddie throws a dish towel at him, scowling.

 "It's just mac and cheese," He retorts. "And I'll have you know I've gotten better at cooking over the pandemic. Make yourself useful and set the table."

 Shifting into the usual routine of dinner time at the Diaz household has a comforting familiarity to it, Buck thinks, as he moves around the kitchen, grabbing plates and glasses, knowing where everything is supposed to be without even thinking about it. They sit down at the table to eat, Chris chattering away about his day as Buck listens on, barely suppressing an eye roll when Eddie not-so-subtly heaps two servings onto his plate. God, his best friend can be such a dad sometimes.

 As dinnertime comes to an end, though, Buck can feel the lightness begin to slip away, tension gathering in his shoulders once more and his smiles come less easily, not even Christopher’s cheer being able to bring them out easily. Eddie seems to notice (of course he does) and quickly stands to gather their plates.

 “Chris, I think it’s time you start getting ready for bedtime,” he says and Chris groans dramatically.

 “Dad, can’t I stay up? It’s not even a school night!”

 “Nope,” Eddie hums. “Rules are rules, Chris, you know how it is.”

 Chris groans again but doesn’t argue his point and gets up. “Goodnight, Buck,” he murmurs, and Buck bends down to receive his hug almost automatically, barely registering it. Thankfully, Chris doesn’t seem to notice that anything is amiss and pulling back, grins at him before leaving.

 “Hey,” Buck startles as Eddie taps him on the shoulder and looks up at the barely concealed worry in his friend’s face. “Why don’t you go wait in the living room? I’m gonna go tuck Chris into bed.”

 “It’s late,” Buck mutters. “Maybe I should leave.” He doesn’t want to. It’s almost more than he can stand, right now, the thought of leaving the warmth of Eddie’s house, of Eddie, to go back to his apartment, that has never felt like home the way Eddie and Christopher have. But he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome. He’d once told Maddie that he’s not really a guest in Eddie’s house, but now, with his entire world, with everything he’d ever known about himself turned upside down, he can’t be sure of anything.

 Eddie shakes his head and repeats, a little more firmly. “Wait for me in the living room.”

 Buck goes, helpless but to do as he asks. He looks around at the room as he sits down on the couch, Chris’ homework on the side tables, the video game consoles scattered around it, Eddie’s jacket tossed over a chair—just a few weeks ago, he had been on this couch with Eddie and Christopher, playing video games and teasing Eddie about his newfound fear of technology. Just a few weeks ago, he had been in this same spot, happy and lighthearted with two of his favorite people in the world.

 Just a few weeks ago, he hadn’t felt this overwhelming sense of wrongness and uncertainty, like everything was collapsing around him and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

 Eddie returns shortly, sinking down into the couch beside him, his shoulders pressing into Buck’s; solid and grounding. Buck lets out a shaky exhale, ducking his head as he feels his eyes burn with tears again. He doesn’t want Eddie to see him like this, cracked in a hundred places and this close to falling apart. Which doesn’t make sense, he knows, Eddie has been there during some of the worst moments of his life; he was there holding his hand while his leg was being crushed under a firetruck, he had seen him choke on his own blood during that welcome-back party; there was no end to it. But this—this was just too much. Too vulnerable. Too raw, and open and exposed.

 Eddie says nothing, just sitting there, a line of warmth and stability against Buck, waiting for him to open up. And Buck does, inevitably.

 “I forgave my parents,” He doesn’t look at Eddie while he says it, but can feel him stiffen momentarily before he relaxes again.

 “That must have been hard,” Eddie says, his words so similar to Maddie’s just a few hours ago. Buck shrugs in response, talking about it with his sister had been hard enough, he doesn’t really want to get into the why’s of it again.

 “I just feel like---” Buck stops himself and sighs in frustration. “I feel like this should have brought me some sort of relief, right? Taken some of the weight off my shoulders? Now that I actually have some context to what they did, and why-“

 “Hey,” Eddie interrupts, almost sharply. “Your parents lost a child, and that’s terrible. But them ignoring the two living children they had, not being there for their kids who actually needed them? That is on them and nothing can excuse that. You are well within your rights to feel angry, Buck.”

 Buck shakes his head. “I am so tired of being angry,” He says. “But---I still am. I thought forgiving them would make me feel less angry, but it didn’t. I am so angry that they kept my brother a secret from me, all this time. I am so angry that they forced Maddie to keep that secret, when she was just a child. I am so angry that I was finally, finally, doing better, feeling more secure and good about myself and my life and it took just one visit from them to turn it all upside down!”

 He sucks in a deep breath and buries his head in his hands, shaking slightly. He did not mean to explode like that. Hell, he doesn’t even know where it all came from. He had no idea he was even feeling like that before it all burst out.

 I sometimes hide my true feelings, Buck remembers telling his therapist that one time, and he chuckles hollowly at the memory.

 Eddie lays a hand on his shoulder, the pad of his thumb drawing soothing circles over his sleeve and remains quiet until Buck raises his head again, eyes wet.

 “It’s clear to me, now,” Buck says. “Everything I ever did to try and win their affection, to win their love—none of it mattered. I was set up to fail since the very beginning. The entire time, whenever they looked at me, all they could see was Daniel and I would never measure up in their eyes. How could I compete with that? God,” He scrubs a hand across his face roughly and lets out a bitter laugh. “I’m jealous of a dead person. How fucked up is that?”

Something shutters in Eddie’s expression and he ducks his head for a moment, swallowing. “I understand completely,” He murmurs. Before Buck can really think about it, Eddie is talking again.

 “It was never on you to win your parents’ love, Buck,” He says. “It’s not something that needs to be won, it’s something that has to be freely given. And your parents—they—no matter the loss they were mourning, the way they made you feel like every scrap of their attention needed to be earned was unacceptable. You have to know that. I mean—” He sighs and pauses for a moment. “I have made a lot of mistakes with Christopher, but I can never imagine doing to him what your parents did to you and your sister. It’s unthinkable.”

 Buck manages to smile at that and says, his voice breaking a little, “You’re a really great dad.”

 Eddie chuckles and shakes his head. “I hope so,” He murmurs. “At least, I try to be. And sometimes, trying is the best you can do. It’s what every parent should do.”

 Trying, huh? Philip and Margaret Buckley certainly hadn’t. They had given up on Buck the moment he’d failed to save his brother, Buck is certain of this no matter how they might say otherwise. They had given up on Maddie when she married Doug. They were never willing to try when things got hard, instead that burden had been placed on their children and Maddie and Buck had carried it even into their adulthood, without even noticing.

 He had never felt that burden so acutely as he did in the fire, as he relived his entire life, seeing his past through new eyes as he fought desperately to save Saleh from the flames and himself, from giving into all that despair and guilt and hopelessness. And in the end, he hadn’t had to carry it alone, because the 118, his family, stepped in to carry it with him.

 “In that warehouse,” Buck says. “I almost gave up.”

 Eddie doesn’t bat an eyelash at his words. “I know,” He says, simply.

 Buck isn’t sure why he’s saying this. He doesn’t know why he feels the need to confess this to Eddie, why this is something he needs for him to know. He also doesn’t know why Eddie is being so calm about it.

 “I almost stopped fighting,” Buck continues, his voice breaking a little.

 “I know.” Eddie says, again.

 “You’re not—” Buck clears his throat and says, hoarsely, “You’re not…I don’t know—” He can’t finish.

 Upset? Angry? Disappointed?

 Eddie, evidently, doesn’t need him to say it. “No,” He says, his voice impossibly soft. “I know what it’s like. I’ve been there.”

 Oh. Of course, that’s—Buck doesn’t know whether he is referring to Afghanistan or the well, when he was buried under thirty feet of mud. Or both.

 Buck doesn’t ask, and Eddie doesn’t elaborate.

 “It feels easy, to just stop resisting,” Eddie continues. “But then, you remember that you have something to live for. A family that loves you.”

 Buck shakes his head, almost automatically. “My parents—”

 “I’m not talking about your parents,” Eddie says, firmly. “I am talking about your sister, Bobby, Athena, the 118—”

 “—you?” Buck finishes, something in his heart lifting at the soft smile Eddie gives him in return.

 “Yeah, me,” Eddie says. “And Christopher,” He pauses, suddenly looking almost uncertain. “That is, if you’ll have us.”

 If he’ll have them? Buck almost laughs hysterically—what sort of question is that? Surely, Eddie has to know—to have him and Christopher as his family would be everything and more. He wants it, all of it, so badly that it’s almost terrifying. He wants Eddie, in any and every single way possible, no matter how selfish it is.

 “Eddie, you don’t know what that means to me,” Buck says, instead.

 Eddie smiles. “I think I have some idea,” He says, and reaches out, slipping his hand into Buck’s. Buck can feel his breath catch, his heart leaping at the gentle touch, at the way Eddie’s fingers slot so perfectly between his. It is at times like these, that he thinks that Eddie might return the feelings he has for him, the feelings that are definitely not those of friendship. But he can never bring himself to cross that line, too afraid of being wrong, of ruining one of the best things he has in his life.

 They sit in silence for a few minutes. After a while, Buck glances at the clock.

 “It’s getting late,” He says reluctantly. “I should go.”

 “Stay.” Eddie says. Buck’s pulse quickens, he knows that Eddie doesn’t mean it that way, yet—

 “I think—”

 Eddie shakes his head. “Stay. Please.”

 And how can Buck say no to that?

 He nods wordlessly and allows himself to lean into Eddie, his eyes drifting shut. This is slowly exceeding the realm of best friend behavior, but Buck can’t find it in himself to care at the moment, especially when Eddie turns into him, resting his head on his shoulder.

 For now, he can have this.

 For once, he can be enough.

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Say Hello to My Little Friend

Genre: Fan Fiction (Sand Castle) Pairing: Cpt. Syverson/Reader Warnings: N/A Rating: G Length: Drabble Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: There was a snake. I screamed and ran away. Then my mind was like hey you should write a fic! Also, the last time I used a name for Sy it was Logan. This time, I am flexing my creativity and seeing how I like the name Rian. 

Henry Cavill Master List

Bent over digging through the veggie patch that he'd been working on all season, Syverson froze, the piercing noise reaching his ears. Laying beside him the German Shepherd barked and whimpered, crawling closer to her master. The terrorizing screeching taking a pause, only to erupt again. This time in the horror of the moment, the former Captain heard his name wailing across the property. Coming from the roses, his wife adored.

“Rian!” Her scream hoarse and sobbing. She only used his full name when he was in trouble or she was in some sort of dangerous situation.

Shooting upright, Syveryson grabbed the small rake he'd been using to turn soil and sprinted to his crying wife. That gotdamn slithery brown fucker was back! He knew it, nothing else sent his bug into a wailing fit like a damn snake. It wasn't even a big snake, barely half a foot long and harmless as they get. Yet every time she saw it, she went into a fit of absolute terror.

“I'm coming for ya, bug!” He called jogging over to the rose bush her finger was pointed at. Tear rolled down her cheeks and she gasped for breath. Over the years Syverson had been in active war zones with less distress then when she saw a snake. “Where is it?”

“Under the bush. I-I was.” She choked on her sobs. “It nearly went over my foot. Oh god, Rian. Get rid of it, please.” She whimpered, the German Shepherd backing into her legs, trying to comfort the distraught human. “Mei, careful.” She whispered as the dog bumped into her hard.

“Alright, you go to the porch. Take Mei, I'll deal with our little friend.” Syverson instructed, his eyes watching the ground around the rose bush. He hadn't spent years in the desert watching for signs of movement to be bested by a damn snake.

“What if I see it? Or another one? I swear it has friends and they're all out to get me.” She whimpered stroking Mei's rough fur around her neck. Smiling happily, Mei waited for her command to move the scared human to safety.

“Right, well,” Syverson rubbed the back of his neck. Sweat dripping down the back of his tshirt in the hot sun. “Okay, I have an idea.” He shrugged turning back to and squatting down. “Hop on. I'll take ya to the porch then come back and see if I can't find it.”

“What if it moves while you're gone?” She asked curiously watching him. Was he seriously going to piggy back her all the way up to the house? Their home sat on a small hill nearly seven hundred feet from where they stood. In this heat he would drop and she'd have to call an ambulance.

“Then I will try my best to find it.” He assured her, “Hop on. I ain't flushing it out with you standing here.”

“If I climb on your back, I will kill you. Its too hot.” She protested, hand on her hip. The more time she wasted arguing with him, the more chances he had of the snake getting away.

“It'll be fine, I've carried men heavier than you in hotter than this.” His brow creased, lifting his hat to wipe his forehead. “Last chance bug, but if I were you I'd take it. Cause I don't want to alarm ya.” Pointing behind her, about ten feet away...

“Rian!” She screamed jumping from a standstill, nearly over shooting him leapfrog style. “Oh fuck. No. Make it go away!” Tears instantly running down her cheeks, she clung to his back. Legs around his thick torso, she sobbed into his tshirt. “Please get rid of it.” She begged as he carried her to the house.

“I'll get rid of it, but I can't promise it doesn't have some friends hiding.” He gently squeezed her thigh. Her legs around him was always a welcome gesture, although this time he had other things to think about.

When she was safe on the porch, standing on wobbly legs, he instructed he to go inside and get a drink. Maybe a nice tall glass of that lemonade she liked, the one with the vodka. Mei following her second human inside the house, Syverson nodded to the dog to indicate she was doing the right thing. His girls safe inside, he adjusted his ball cap. Time to get down to business.

Trudging back to the scene of the crime, he scowled and let his eyes wander for a second. It couldn't have gone far, likely seeking refuge from the screaming giant that kept leaping into the air every time it passed by. Naturally, he didn't feel the need or want to kill the poor beast. However, it was causing his bug a great deal of stress.

“Alright buddy, where are ya?” He whistled softly, as if to coax it out. It wasn't like he'd whistle and it would come along like a dog. Shaking his head, he kept his eyes on the alert. Tracking movement was one of his specialties.

Seconds into his mission, he located the target.

“Look, what I am about to do, it isn't personal.” He spoke, grabbing the gardening rake. “You've been scaring my lady, I know you like it here, but this is her home and it ain't big enough for the two of ya.”

Curled up on the porch swing, a glass of lemonade in her hand, another on the table beside her waiting for Syverson, she hiccuped and wiped away the tear stains on her cheeks. She was never going back into the yard, ever. Not unless Sy was home to hold her hand or carry her. Scratching Mei behind the ears, she whimpered feeling tears threaten to fall again. Nothing, absolutely nothing, scared her this much. Sending Sy off to war, multiple times, hadn't caused her this amount of distress.

Shaking she lifted the glass to her lips, the sweet and bitter taste meeting her. With a slight gulp, she nearly drained the glass. What on earth was taking him so long? Had he found more? Did the snake get him? What if he'd found a giant nest of...

“Done.” His voice startled her into a jump. “Easy, bug. It's only me.” he smiled sweetly at her, taking off his hat under the shade of the porch.

“Is it dead?”

“It's gone. Along with three friends that I found. They won't be bothering you anymore.” Syverson sat on the other side of the swing, reaching for his glass of lemonade and slinging an arm around her. “I took em down the road.”

“You let them live?” Her bottom lip quivered.

“I know, I know. Bug, they're gone. I promise I took em away. Besides, I've seen loads of raccoon and skunks in that area. They'll probably be somebody's dinner before long.” Gently squeezing her shoulder, her leaned in nuzzling her neck. His thick beard scratching at the soft skin. “I was going to kill em, but...You know what, doesn't matter.”

“I know, no use in killing unless they've got a gun at your head and their finger on the trigger.” She recited the words he'd spoke many times.

“Mm hmm.” He hummed, his beard against her skin caused her to shiver. “Now, we've gotta figure out a way to keep you safe out there.”

“You mean you don't want to piggy back me everywhere?” She giggled, pushing his head away. Staring into his eyes, she smirked leaning in for a soft kiss.

“Now, I didn't say that. I love your legs around me, but neighbours might start talking.” He joked, their nearest neighbour was a mile down the road and their house couldn't be seen from the road. “I'll tell ya what, until I figure out a better solution, why don't I leave the lawn mower by the back deck? You can ride it 'round.”

“Are you serious?” She laughed at his suggestion. “Oh god, Sy. We're going to look insane.”

“Got a better suggestion?” He wiggled his brows at her.

Mumbling “no” she folded her arms across her chest and sighed.

“Okay then, I'll go get the mower. And while you're out there, mind dropping the blade? The back side is an overgrown mess.” He winked as she scoffed and hit him playfully in the chest.

@laketaj24​   @the-winter-witcher​ @viking-raider​ @sciapod​ @stars-meets-the-sunlight​ @honeychicanawrites​ @badassbaker​  @cris101071​ @fucktrucks​ @ohjules​ @zoe-rachel-crisp​  @mrsadrianraines​  @angelic-kisses13​ @marthasantos95​  @hows-my-hair​ @omgshuddupmeg​ @shileen91​ @moviegirl50​ @havenoffandoms​ @nerdzzone​ @captstefanbrandt​ @supernaturalvikingwhore​ @intototaloblivion​ @carlya65​ @letowolfie​ @thisisabigmaze​  @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​ @heavenly1927​ @henchry​ @mitzwinchester​ @vicmackeybullshxt​ @dogshemp​ @alwayshave-faith​ @centaine​ @romyr4​ @inside-the-time-stone​  @nedbear​ @ly--canthrope​@agniavateira​​ @flowerthug​​ @badwolf-in-the-impala​​ @mariahill2001​​ @mytbel0st​​  @fcgrizi​​ @dancingwendigo​​ @peakygroupie​​ @magdelen69​​  @s-ravenall​​ @legendarywinchester1​​ @littlefreya​​ @michelle-1185​​ @daniig95​​  @hcfavoritegal​​ @didiintheblog​​ @thiccgeralt​​ @titty-teetee​​ @charlieferret​​ @taytayize123 @mis-lil-red​​ @anndreaae​​ @dearlybelovedluke​​ @gearhead66​ @p3nny4urth0ught5​​ @tinychemicals​​ @mary-ann84​​ @townmoondaltwistle​​ @buckysgoldenheart​​ @thethirstyarchive​​ @meowpurrbooks​​  @hell1129-blog​​ @nuns-and-roses​​ @vikingsbifrost​​ @comboboo​​ @onlyhenrys​​ @sideh0e​​ @deathonyourtongue​​ @obsessedwithcavill​​ @omgkatinka​​ @woofgocows​​ @newfanhasenteredthechat​​ @lestersglitterglue​​ @speakerforthedead0​ @rmtndew​ @ravenpuff02​​ @summersong69​ @ladyreapermc​ @fuckoffbard​​ @marswritings​​ @cherrybloomn​ @radkesgirl83​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @bloodyinspiredfuck​ @alyxkbrl​

- if you want to be added? removed, please let me know

[sir-subpar]

His Translator Part 13

Burt woke up with a yawn, rubbing his eyes. He attempted to get up but realized that there was something weighing him down a bit. Burt opened his eyes, blinking the sleep away. Now it all made sense. Henry was sleeping right next to him. His arm was wrapped around Burt, and their legs were tangled together. How could Burt forget that he had fallen asleep on his boss's shoulder the previous night? 

Burt wasn't sure what to do. So he just… didn't do anything. It was easier to just stay. Wrapped up in Henry's warmth. Even in his sleep Henry was cuddly. Burt rested his head on his pillow. He probably wasn't gonna get back to sleep anytime soon, so he just decided to enjoy this moment as much as he could. It wasn't like Henry was bothered by this, if he was he would've left while Burt was sleeping. Besides, this wasn't the first time they had fallen asleep together, but it was the first they slept so… close together. Burt felt so comfortable like this, yet so nervous. He knew why. He was confident that he had feelings for Henry. He knew he did. He just… wasn't sure what to do with them. Would it be better to just remain friends? Or should he take a chance with a relationship? Would Henry want a relationship? Burt let out a quiet sigh. He could worry about that later, right now he just wanted to enjoy this.

Burt buried his face into Henry’s chest, listening to the sounds of his breathing and his heartbeat. His breathing was steady, and deep. Just a simple in and out pattern, but it was so relaxed. This wasn’t like last time when Henry was tense and fearful. He was still, sleeping in tranquility. Burt listened to Henry's heartbeat. It was rhythmic. Burt smiled a bit and let out a content sigh. Suddenly, Henry shifted.

"Mmmmngh." Henry hummed. Slowly waking up.

Well, the cuddling was nice while it lasted, but Burt knew he and Henry had things to do. They had jobs and needed to get up anyway. Henry's eyes fluttered open, immediately locking on Burt's own eyes. "Hey Henry." Burt greeted gently, doing his best to not be nervous or get embarrassed. This was just a nice moment between the two of them. No need to be embarrassed. 

Henry smiled, then his eyes wandered. He realized the unintentional cuddling that had happened. Honestly, he thought it was nice. Holding Burt in his arms felt… nice. Henry dismissed his desire to cuddle Burt more. They had to go to work. Henry gently unwrapped himself from Burt, figuring that he would like to not be unconsciously held down anymore. When the two separated from the embrace, Henry signed a "good morning" to Burt, then got up to get ready for the day in his own room. Henry waved at Burt and flashed a smile before leaving.

Burt too, got ready for the day. Doing all those mundane morning routine things. He held the little topaz tophat Henry had given him the previous day. He would treasure it. Burt set the beautiful little gem on his drawing desk, then, he left. It was time for work.

…

Burt sat with Sven at lunch that day. Henry was busy and Sven was on break for once (Henry and Reginald had banned him from doing any work until he ate lunch). Sven was grumbling about how he didn’t have time for breaks while eating his lunch. “It is inefficient for me to do this,” Sven murmured. “Pretty sure it’s less efficient to have you face plant at your desk from lack of energy than it is to just take a break once in a while” Burt replied in his usual blunt tone. Sven stayed quiet for a moment. “I don’t like how right you are.” Sven said, avoiding eye contact. “Just try not to keel over from stress, Sven.” Burt half joked, teasing his workaholic friend. It was nice to hang out with Sven again, they hadn’t done so in a while. “Other than being a grump, how are you?” Burt asked, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Fine I guess. The paperwork is tedious, but it is my job to get it done.” Sven sighed. “Would you rather go on a heist or something? I’m sure Henry would let you if you asked him about it.” Burt suggested. He knew Henry loved teaming up with people on missions, it could be good for Sven to get out more. “Not everyone is all buddy-buddy with the boss like you are Burt” “So?” Burt asked. "He doesn't bite, just talk to him." 

Sven seemed hesitant, not sure what to say. "Trust me Sven, it'll be fine." Sven smiled a little at Burt's reassurance, he kind of needed to hear it that day.  "I'll think about it… Speaking of the boss, I've been hearing some… rumors about you and him lately." Burt rolled his eyes at the blonde. "Since when were you so interested in random rumors and gossip?" Burt asked with a slight hint of annoyance in his tone, it just seemed silly to listen to random gossip. "I wasn't until they were about you" Sven replied curly. Burt only hummed dismissively in response. "Will you just listen!?" Sven asked impatiently.

Burt sighed. "Alright fine. What are these rumors you're so obsessed about?" he asked, deciding to humor his friend. “There is this rumor that you and the boss are… together?” Sven got a little quieter towards the end of his sentence, seemingly growing more awkward. Burt’s cheeks turned a little pink. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he was attracted to his boss, but it was weird to know that people were talking about the possibility of him being in a relationship with Henry. “Are.. these rumors true?” Sven asked, he didn’t want to make Burt uncomfortable, but he was curious. He had never seen Burt really be attracted to anyone. However, he had noticed changes in Burt’s behavior; he saw how Burt seemed to work harder whenever Henry asked him to do something in contrast to how he usually would half-ass whatever was asked of him. He noticed how Burt spent a lot of time practically following the boss when he wasn’t working. He noticed that Burt stopped referring to Henry as “boss” and instead referred to him by name. And he noticed the change of color on Burt’s face…

Burt avoided making eye contact with Sven, but still answered the question. “No.. Henry and I aren’t dating. We just hang out sometimes.” Burt replied shyly. Sven tilted his head in curiosity. Did Burt sound disappointed? He seemed a bit sad all of the sudden. “Burt. Are you alright?” Sven asked, feeling a little concerned. “Yeah? Why?” Burt replied, a little unsure.

 “You look sad,” “I’m not sad. I’m just… I don’t really know what to do right now" Burt gave up on the excuses. There was no point. “Don’t know what to do? About what?” Sven asked. "The boss and I… we aren't together, but I… guess I want us to be?" There it was. He finally said it out loud… and it wasn't even to Henry. "Oh… wait, really?" Sven asked, surprised. Since when had Burt started feeling romantic towards anything?? He really missed out on a lot when they didn't talk. "Yeah. I like him." Burt admitted, in his slightly embarrassed but mostly blunt tone. "Does the chief know about this? Like, at all??" Sven questioned, how did he miss this? He really missed a lot when he was working. "I mean, probably not? I've never said anything about it but.. there are moments where I wonder if he feels the same way or if he's just being friendly. I'm honestly not sure." Burt shrugged. Henry's behavior was a mystery sometimes. "I've thought about asking him, but I guess I'm just not sure how I want to." Burt avoided eye contact with Sven. He felt so silly talking about this. It wasn't the worst situation to be in, but it was a bit tricky. 

"Huh." Was all Sven could manage. He didn't necessarily have a problem with this. He was more surprised by the fact that Burt liked someone at all. Not to mention Henry of all people. It's not that Sven disliked Henry or anything, but it seemed odd that he was the object of Burt's affection. What was the draw there? Sure, Henry's nice and all, but that couldn't just be it. Regardless of the reason though, he couldn't argue the fact that Henry made Burt happy, and Sven wanted him to be happy. But how could he help? He wasn't some sort of matchmaker. The two had sat there in silence for a minute when Sven got an idea. 

"What do you like about the chief?" Sven asked. Maybe if he could help Burt put how he felt into words, he could tell the boss the same thing. "I uh… I dunno..er.." Burt seemed to grow shyer by the minute. He was never really that open of a person when it came to feelings except when he was around Henry. Wait.

 "I uh.. I like how he makes me feel...safe? Like I can just be who I am and he'll just be who he is and it's comfortable between us." Sven smiled a bit. That was a good start! "What else?" 

Burt fidgeted with the microphone on his headset, a small nervous habit of his. "I like.. How he visits me when I work, and how he'll bring me snacks or meals. And he'll just hang out for a bit." Burt started smiling as he continued to think about Henry. "I like it when he comforts me, and I like being there to comfort him. I like how he trusts me enough to be vulnerable around me." Burt felt a bittersweet sensation when he recalled Henry's nightmare after spending so much time in recovery. How broken Henry looked, and how much better he felt when Burt was there for him. He remembered how Henry was there to celebrate his birthday when no one else did. "I like his dedication." Henry was always so determined to help the clan even when he could barely stand. "I like how affectionate he is. Even if it took some getting used to." Henry's hugs were always so warm and welcoming. "I like how when a situation gets awkward, he'll do whatever he can to make people feel comfortable again." Burt almost cringed at the memory of when Henry showed him his scars and put his hand on his scarred chest, but he also felt a little amused at how Henry did the same thing to him so that they would be even. "I like a lot about him." Burt smiled, his cheeks were definitely pink but he didn't care this time. "He just makes me happy to be around him." 

"That's what you should tell him!" Sven nearly yelled in excitement. "Huh?" Burt jumped a bit then tilted his head to the side, it wasn't often that Sven yelled like that. "You should tell the chief everything you just told me. There's no better confession than an earnest one like that." Sven reached across the table and held Burt's hand supportively. "If that would make you happy, why not do it?" Sven gave his friend an encouraging smile. Burt stared at Sven for a moment before nodding.

 "Thanks Sven…." Burt smiled, gripping Sven's hand gently, before pulling away. Burt stood up, the two of them nodded to each other in acknowledgment. Burt took a deep breath. He felt nervous, but encouraged at the same time. He could do this. 

"I will."

[suckmysupernatural]

I Got You - Chapter 1

Word Count: ~1300

Pairing: Professor!Dean x Reader

Warnings: alcoholism, shitty boyfriend

Summary: Y/N is used to dealing with her drunk boyfriend, Brandon. That is, until returning to college after a five year sabbatical. Y/N decides to take a fun history class and she ends up meeting Dean, or rather Professor Dean. 

A/N: I am so stoked to share my first series!! Thank you to @emptycanvasposts for betaing every chapter. Tune in the next couple days, I’ll be posting all 9 chapters within the week. Happy Reading!

Series Masterlist

-----------------------------------

You couldn’t help but be nervous. It had been over five years since you stepped foot on a college campus. 24 doesn’t seem that old to restart your education, but everyone around you looked fresh-faced, and it made you feel old, tired. But, you weren’t going to let anything stop you this time around. You were going to get your degree, get a great job, just like you had always planned. 

You had survived two classes already that day, English Literature and Statistics, and now it was time for your history class. You were excited about this class, unlike the other three that you were taking. It wasn’t some basic U.S. History bullshit. Walking into the classroom, coffee in hand, you survey the room. 

There were about 25 chairs, desks arranged in a semicircle facing a whiteboard. There was a small table in front of it, clearly for the teacher. There were about 13 students already in seats when you walked in, choosing to sit at the edge of the table. You liked being up close; it helped you focus and not have the temptation to look at your phone. 

By the time class began, about 20 of the 25 seats were filled, and there was no sign of a teacher. A couple of minutes passed as people started to chat with others next to them. The door swung open and a man sauntered into the room. 

He must’ve been your age, maybe a few years older. He was incredibly handsome, with a strong jaw and emerald eyes. He wore dark jeans and a grey henley with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. A pair of square-framed glasses tucked into the collar of his shirt. In one hand he held a laptop and in the other a cup of coffee. At first, you figured he must be another student. That was, of course, until he set his things down on the front table and faced the class. 

“Evening, class. Welcome to Mythologies and Monsters. I am your professor, Dean Winchester. You all can call me Dean. I am way too young for anything else,” the class let out a small chuckle at his joke, “I trust that you have all looked over the syllabus, if not I suggest you do so before the next class. Today, we will just make introductions, say a little about ourselves. The class is a small one, and we are stuck together for 16 weeks. Might as well make some friends.”

Dean pointed at the person across the circle from you, letting them go first. Once it had gotten to your turn, you knew that you were the oldest in the room, the second being 19. It wasn’t upsetting, but something to make a note of. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I am 24, and this is my first semester back at college for five years. I am a Creative Writing Major, with a minor in History. I decided to take this course because I like writing science fiction, so learning about different mythologies can help my writing in the future. That’s about it,” you smile at the rest of the class. Dean nodded before finishing up.

“As I said before, I’m Dean. I am 27, an Aquarius. Um… what else… well, this is my favorite course to teach. I would rather talk about monsters and gods than the founding fathers. I am a pretty easy grader, so lucky you guys. Just show up, chat, get an A.” Dean coughed, standing from his seat on the table. “Well, that was fun. It’s the first day, so get outta here. I will see you all on Wednesday.” 

Before you could get up, you felt your phone buzz. 

Hey babe. Won’t be home for dinner, work stuff. Sorry.

You sighed; this was so typical of Brandon. At this point, you didn’t know if he was actually at work or out with his buddies. All you knew was that he stayed out late most nights, and you hadn’t gotten laid in five weeks. 

“You alright, Y/N?” a voice bringing your eyes away from the disappointing message. You looked up to see Dean. 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. See you Wednesday,” you smile, grabbing your things. He simply nods, smiling back at you. Damn, that smile was intoxicating. You couldn’t think that way for many reasons. You were in a committed relationship, and he was your professor.  You quickly left, making your way to the student parking. 

Making dinner seemed pointless, as it was just you tonight, so you grabbed a burger and some fries. It always sucked, going home to an empty apartment. You and Brandon had lived together for about two years now, but most of the time, it was as if you were alone. 

You made your way up the stairs to the fourth floor where you lived. If you were going to have greasy fast food, you might as well forgo the elevator. You got to your apartment, opening the door to be met with darkness. Of course, he wouldn’t leave a light on. Not like you had asked him a million times already. 

You spent the evening on your couch, eating not only the take-out but also a pint of ice cream. Binge-watching your favorite show, you ended up passing out on the couch. 

It was around 2 AM when you woke up to knocking on your door. Shuffling your way over, you looked through the peephole to see Brandon. Opening the door, he stumbled his way in, reeking of tequila. 

“Ugh… seriously, Brandon?” you roll your eyes. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it annoyed you that he couldn’t even get the key in the door. 

“Oh, whatever… buzzkill,” Brandon slurred before making his way to the couch, passing out almost immediately. You rolled your eyes again. You always frustrated yourself on nights like tonight. Why were you with him? Why wouldn’t you just walk away? You were too afraid to admit the truth to yourself; you were afraid of being alone. 

-----------------------------------

Wednesday came quickly, and you once again found yourself walking to Myths and Monsters. You stopped at the coffee cart; exhaustion showed clearly under your eyes. You had spent most of the night before arguing with Brandon. He had come home wasted, yet again, this time trying to get you into bed. You had been so furious, saying that he needed alcohol to fuck you. The fight went on for hours. You got in line, trying to fight a yawn. 

 “Long night?” you turned around, seeing your professor had just gotten in line behind you. 

“Yeah, you could say that,” you replied with a small smile on your face. 

“I can’t do evening classes without a cup of coffee. I’ll start drifting off half-way through the lecture,” Dean chuckled at himself, “you the same?”

“Yeah, caffeine is my acceptable drug of choice,” you nodded, “Let me guess, you drink your coffee black?” 

“How’d you know?” Dean cocked his head. 

“You seem like the type, although I bet you sneak a frappe every once and a while,” you laugh.

“Shhhh… don’t tell anyone,” he winked, “what about you? Latte mochaccino-whatever?”

You let out a laugh. “No. Just two creams, three sugars.” He simply nodded, and before you knew it, he had moved in front of you. 

“Coffee black, and another with two creams and three sugars,” Dean said to the barista. Your eyes widened, not even realizing the line was down to you. Dean turned back to you, two steaming coffees in his hands.

“You sneaky son of a bitch,” you say in disbelief, taking the coffee Dean offered you.

“Well, I am a professor, we tend to be pretty smart,” Dean chuckled, taking a sip of his drink, “let’s go, don’t wanna be late.”

You both headed into the classroom, where you took your seat. Dean put his things on the table again, facing the class. 

“Evening people. Today we are gonna talk about the Aztecs…” 

[3d-wifey]

The Academy ❧ Part 1

Pairing: Reader x Multiple

Synopsis: Given the chance to rewrite your life for the better, how could you say no? Of course, it helps that the ones presenting this gift are crazy hot.

Word Count: 7.6k

Warnings: Nothing yet.

A/N: If this feels hastily thrown together, that's because it is. It does help that Reader's relationship with the boys is meant to feel rushed tho. So, the lack of relationship building between the three seems intentional 😋. Reader's personality switch-up is also intentional. I promise the quality will get better after this. Happy reading!

You liked coffee shops. One would argue a little too much. You were like an addict and you typically got your fix at Komori's Delights.

You liked coffee shops, solely, because of the people. You would sit at the same corner booth you've been sitting at for the past five years and listen in on their conversations like a creep.

You led a pretty basic life. Once you turned sixteen, the adoption agency helped you get an apartment. And then, when you turned eighteen, a job in customer service. Yet, since it mainly involved doing online chat services from home, you rarely interacted with anyone. With no family that you knew of, you were pretty socially isolated. And you weren't doing too well on the friends front either.

People didn't exactly line up to hang out with quirkless orphans. Loneliness stuck to you like a shadow.

The only thing you honestly looked forward to when you opened your eyes was hearing about other people's lives. You could admit to yourself that it was pathetic.

It was just something about watching "normal" people interacting with each other. Their stories, their conversations, how they responded to and handled everyday situations. All of it, all of them, thrumming with life. A simple passion you dreamed of having, but sadly, didn't possess.

You were able to quench a burning thirst within yourself just by watching them. Living through them. At first, you wondered what that thirst was. What did you gain from being around other people that you couldn't achieve in solitude?

It took you a few years to figure it out. You spent many restless nights in your cold twin bed at the group homes, then in the equally cold queen bed at your apartment, trying to understand what you were missing.

You were around seventeen at the time and a fresh-faced graduate. Instead of going to any of the graduation parties that many of your former classmates were throwing, you were sitting at your booth. The same one that protected you from the cold fall winds and overlooked the entire shop.

Two women were arguing in the corner about something or other. The conversation didn't seem interesting enough to listen in on until the shorter of the two shouted something.

"Nobody had seen you in over ten hours. We were all scared something had happened. I was scared something had happened."

You vaguely remember them hugging and making up after that. It seemed strange to you at the time that someone could be so worried about another person. You never really found yourself worrying about anyone. Especially not to the extent of being scared for their well-being.

It occurred to you later that night. With just three sentences, you had your answer. You wanted some type of connection. To be seen. You wanted to be somewhere where people would know your name, know your face, notice if you weren't there. You wanted to be wanted. Something to tie you to humanity.

Now, here you were three years later. In the same weathered leather booth, working the same reclusive job, still hungering for that connection. Nothing had changed in your life.

You wrapped your hands around the mug and brought it closer to your chest, sighing at the heat it provided. The smell of cocoa and cinnamon wafted under your nose, making you relax further into the booth. You had mainly ordered the hot chocolate to warm your cold fingers, but it did pair well with the sugar cookies that came with it.

The temperature had dropped faster this year with the coming of winter and you were oftentimes reminded of how lucky you were to even have a home to escape the cold in.

With the winter winds, came the mass of people who sought out the café to hide from the chilliness outside. Now, Komori's wasn't what you would call exceedingly popular, so it rarely saw the same person more than once.

But, over the past five days, two people came to the shop roughly around the same time every day. They usually came with four or five others, but it was never the same people. The only constants with the groups were the two men.

And what men they were.

They carried themselves completely differently; the only thing they had in common was being absurdly attractive. The first one was tall and built like a football player, with big blue eyes, bright hair, and an even brighter smile.

It was obvious he had many admirers if the way his friends hung onto his every word was anything to go by. Based on how often he steered the conversation, you could tell he was a natural-born leader with charisma to match. His allure was sunny and encompassing, but carefree.

The shorter male was just as handsome, but his appeal was subtle compared to the blond one. You wouldn't notice if you just glanced at him, but you got the feeling that that was a conscious decision on his part. He didn't seem the type to like attention, going through great efforts not to be seen.

He typically didn't add much to their conversations unless he was reining his partner in. Messy, indigo bangs casted a shadow over his nervous eyes and long, pointed ears twitched whenever his group got too loud. He had a swimmer's body, but, again, you wouldn't notice unless you stared at him long enough. And you've done a lot of staring.

You sighed again, taking a sip from your mug. It was completely on-brand for you to over-analyze some random men. You looked over to one of the circle booths across the room. They were here again. The two men and five more strangers. Well, they were all strangers to you, but for some reason, you felt like you knew them, at least a little.

Maybe because you had been listening in on their conversations for practically a week, but, that was neither here nor there.

You had lost all interest in anybody else that came in; all of your attention was focused on them and them alone. You would wait hours at a time for them to come in with new people and watch as they talked. Their conversations always pulled you in. Especially when they talked about a place called Yuuei.

The blond one would talk animatedly about the place to the others to the point where they got excited too. It happened every time with every group.

You had gone home with your curiosity peeked the first time you heard them mention it. You spent the entire night hunched over your laptop, scrounging the internet—again, like a creep—for anything relating to Yuuei.

You looked everywhere, but it couldn't be found. It wasn't on any maps. There were no Google links about it. As far as you could tell, it wasn't some kind of slang or anything. The only mention of it was on a Reddit conspiracy theory thread about a cult that shared the same name. You tallied your loses and suspected that it was just some type of club and the two of them were probably recruiting new members. And, technically, you were right.

You were brought back to the present when the hairs on your arms and neck stood up. But the shop door hadn't been opened and there was no breeze inside the café. You weren't cold.

Your gaze swept over the expanse of the shop; eyes, not so subtly, hopping from table to table. Finding nothing but people locked in conversation, until you glanced at the circle booth. Narrowed (E/C) eyes met bright blue. Instead of becoming embarrassed at getting caught and looking away, like most people did, the blond held your gaze and grinned.

He smiled at you.

Not a condescending smile; not an angry borderline-sneer; not even a half awkward half fearful kind of smile that you often got from strangers after you stared at them a little too long. Just a warm upturn of lips that felt like open arms welcoming you back home.

You looked away in hopes that it would be the end of the interaction, but not before seeing the blond elbow his friend and gesture over to you. All while still wearing the same smile on his face.

You stared down at the light brown liquid in your mug, telling yourself the steam wafting up from the hot chocolate was the reason your face was so warm. Yeah, that's why. That's the only thing that made sense.

Every other sound blurred in the background until the only thing you could hear were twin footfalls. Confident footsteps leading the way with reluctant ones following close behind. Getting steadily closer and closer. Each step a metronome to your ears. Were they coming towards you?

The muscles in your arms flinched with every sound of shoes hitting the linoleum floor.

Step, step, step, until—

"Hi! I'm Mirio. And this here is my buddy, Tamaki." He introduced, reaching a scarred hand out towards you, probably expecting you to shake it. You stared up at them with wide eyes, dumbfounded at the turn of events. No one in this café had ever approached you before, not even the staff. His voice was accented, which was surprising considering you never heard it when he was talking before. Maybe it was just hard to pick up on from across the room.

You weren't sure what prompted them to come up to you and if you took a glance over their shoulder, you could see that the people they were with seemed just as confused as you. Not wanting to appear rude, you paused before reaching out and shaking his hand. His palm was rough from the buildup of calluses, and It dwarfed your own. It was warm.

"I'm...Y/n." You introduced yourself cautiously, watching them as they moved to sit down in front of you. Tamaki on the inside, Mirio on the outside. You wondered if it was normal for him to just walk up to a person he didn't know and strike up a conversation like an old friend.

"We saw you sitting by yourself—"

Jesus, how sad of a picture did you make that they felt the need to come over just to end your suffering?

"—and came over to see if you wanted to join us." You? Join them? Honestly, you would love to sit with them and finally be included in the conversation instead of just listening to it from the outside. But, something told you that the feeling wasn't mutual.

You glanced back to their booth to find their friends staring at you. Or, at least they were before they noticed you looking at them. Diverting their gaze before you could meet any of their eyes head-on.

You knew if you sat with them, all you would end up with were judgmental glares and badly concealed whispers about you. How fun.

"No pressure, of course!" Mirio was quick to assure, taking your silence as unwillingness. And his assumption would be right.

"I, uh, don't think I'd fit in with your friends." He looked at you with a confused tilt of his head, resembling a puppy who didn't know what you were saying to it.

"Oh, I mean them," You gestured to the group of five people talking amongst themselves and sneaking occasional glances your way, "plus the other people you guys usually come in with."

Although the statement sounded innocent to you, you couldn't help but feel like you fucked up somehow. Their faces didn't change, but there was something about the way Mirio's hands twitched and Tamaki's shoulders tensed that made you feel...uneasy. Paranoia creeping up on you like phantom hands.

"Other people, huh," Mirio paused before giving you a boyish grin, "So, you were watching us." He said not unlike a lawyer who just caught the defendant red-handed. You could feel your heartbeat pick up as he leaned over the table towards you, hands laced together, but your face remained blank. Despite his playful tone, the glint in his eyes made you feel like you were being trialed for murder.

It struck you then just how creepy that might sound to them. You probably seemed like some kind of stalker. A weirdo that's been watching their every move for the past five days, which, of course, you were. He had every right to be suspicious of you.

"Mirio, ease off of her." Tamaki interrupted, face practically buried in the wall. That was the first time you heard him speak, and, God, were you thankful for his timing. It sounded like he had the same accent as Mirio, but, for the life of you, you still couldn't place it.

"Heh, I'm just goofing." He laughed, big blue eyes colored with mirth as he leaned back from you in favor of picking up one of your cookies. But his relaxed posture felt too tense for that to truly be how he felt. It seemed forced.

"Anyway, I wouldn't really call them friends. Just people we've met in passing while we visited. Do you...know any of them?"

You leaned back, unconsciously mirroring him. Your nails tapped against the table to the beat of the music playing softly over the speakers as you took your time quietly examining the two men before you. Your brain ran over the people they brought into the shop. Dozens upon dozens of faces and none of them were familiar.

"No, I can't say I do."

There was a moment of silence before any of you talked.

"Um, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you're a pretty intimidating girl." He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. Blond strands falling out of his ponytail to frame his face. You held in a sigh. He wasn't the first person to tell you that and he probably wouldn't be the last.

You weren't sure what it was about your appearance that everyone found so daunting; it could be how hard you stared at people. Or how silent you were. Maybe you had a resting bitch face, but you couldn't be sure, since nobody was ever brave enough to tell you. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn't doing you any favors.

"Is that why he's so quiet?" You joked humorlessly, peeking at the man to your right—Tamaki, you reminded yourself—to find him already looking at you. Piercing purple-blue eyes made the hairs on your neck stand straight as he stared at you without turning away from the white walls. It threw you off to see he was staring at you so intently, considering you didn't think he was even paying attention to the conversation.

"Oh, you mean Tamaki? He's just a little shy around new people. Ain't that right, bud?" He elbowed his friend a little sharply.

"Uh, y-yeah."

"So, where are you guys from?" Your gaze shifted between them, yet again changing the conversation.

You focused on the twinge of pain coming from your finger as you picked at the skin around your nail, a nervous habit you took up when you were a child. It was how you developed such a good poker face. Keeping your emotions off your face and instead directing them to the poor skin of your nail beds.

"Is it that obvious we aren't from around here?" The blond—Mirio—joked, putting his on the back of the booth behind Tamaki's head.

"Your accents kind of gave you away." You joked back. It felt nice to do that. To have someone to joke with.

"Okay, well...It's a little...town called Yuuei," when you perked up, they shared a quick glance before Mirio continued, "It's really small, so you've probably never heard of it. We're actually heading back pretty soon."

"What's it like there? It's still in Japan, right? I assume it is, considering you both speak Japanese like it's your native language," you tried to reign in your excitement, but the prospect of getting some kind of information on this place was too much to pass up, "Do you have any pictures I could se—"

"She's really pretty. Don't you think, Tamaki?" he cut you off, asking the other boy like you weren't just talking, "Sorry if that was random." He laughed. You weren't an expert on social cues, but something about his smile made you think he wasn't really sorry.

You froze and you glanced over at Tamaki with wide eyes, finding he looked more embarrassed than you felt. You kept your face perfectly blank, hopefully not giving away how off-guard that caught you.

"Yeah," he agreed sheepishly, slouching in on himself, "She is." He sounded certain in his answer, which struck you as curious considering how unsure he seemed about literally everything. Almost like it wasn't his first time saying it. For some reason, you couldn't see Tamaki going around complimenting random people like a playboy.

Mirio? Sure.

But, Tamaki? Not so much.

"Oh...thank you." You mumbled, rubbing the tip of your nose and picking at the faded blue fabric of your scarf. You prayed the booth would open up like a Venus flytrap and swallow you whole. You were just rambling a mile a minute to two guys you just met. Was that his way of polity telling you to shut up?

Not only that, but you were at your wits' end here. The conversation kept changing so quickly, touching on topics you had no idea how to navigate. You felt way out of your element.

How sad was it that getting complimented was where your mind drew the line?

"You're welcome, Sunshine." He pointed down to your scarf, cookie still in hand, answering the unasked question in your furrowed brows, "Your scarf. Really cute, by the way." You looked down at the offending cloth wrapped around your neck.

A baby blue woolen scarf with little patterned suns grinning and wearing big green sunglasses. You hadn't really thought much of it when you grabbed it on your way out of the apartment this morning, but here you were wearing a children's scarf in front of two of the hottest guys you've ever seen in your life. They say hindsight was 20/20, but you'd say it was just a bitch.

The fact that they didn't answer your questions didn't go unnoticed, but maybe it was deemed inappropriate in their culture to ask someone about that kind of stuff if you weren't close. You decided to drop it, not wanting to give the impression that you were disrespectful, but kept it at the back of your mind.

___

You still had no clue why it happened, but this...arrangement continued longer than you thought it would. You didn't really know what to call it, but, whatever it was went on every day for the next couple of months. You would wait at your booth, they would come in with new people, talk with them for a little, and then split off to come talk to you.

You know you shouldn't have, but you felt kind of special knowing that they wanted to come spend time with you. You didn't comment on how fast you guys were moving. Choosing to, instead, push the uncertain feeling to the back of your mind.

It was becoming an unwelcome habit.

You didn't bring up the subject of their home again, weary of another awkward conversational lapse on your part. You often felt that creeping uneasiness come up whenever you turned the spotlight on them. You were just trying to make the small talk that you often saw in other people's conversations, but Mirio's eyes would always develop a certain...look and even poor Tamaki would tense up with every question. You decided it was better not to push for information about them at all.

That was your second mistake.

While you didn't ask them much, they seemed to want to know everything about you. They—mainly Mirio—asked you probing question after probing question about your life. About your job, where you lived, who you lived with, if you had any family, etc. The constant stream of questioning seemed odd to you, but you were more than happy to bask in the attention like a lovestruck teenager talking to her crushes.

That's how they made you feel.

Maybe you were just excited to finally partake in those conversations you watched everyone else have. To finally have people want to listen to what you had to say. Frantic to form a connection, no matter how weak the foundation was. The red flags were obvious, but desperation tended to make you colorblind.

You were very hesitant to inform them about your complete lack of quirk at first. You've seen how people react to that and you weren't too eager to lose the only people that could be considered your friends. However, it couldn't be hidden from them forever. Especially, since both of them were so quirk oriented.

They, surprisingly, reacted better than you expected when you told them. In fact, they almost seemed happy.

After you told them that, they wouldn't stop talking about Yuuei. Even Tamaki would jump in on the conversation to tell you things about their home. Alternating between demonstrating their quirks and explaining the wonder that was Yuuei.

It made you apprehensive to be around people with such powerful quirks. It always had, especially in high school. You hadn't known them for long, but you were sure they wouldn't hurt you.

They strived to be pretty accommodating to your anxiousness, which no one had ever done before. And, like a stupid puppy, you were getting attached to their kindness. They and their compassion were like a balm to that scorching thirst that you endured for the past twenty years.

In the short two months you knew them, they had somehow become a solid fixture. They had dug out a divot in your life and laid in it like they've always belonged there. It got to the point where you would call in sick to work just to stay with them a little longer.

Your fall from grace wasn't instantaneous. It happened gradually; inch by beautiful inch. You started falling the moment they came to sit with you. No, the moment they walked into the café was your first step towards oblivion. You were plunging to your demise and you only had yourself to blame. You allowed them a permanent room in your life, despite knowing their stay was temporary.

You're confident they had no idea how important they were to you. Nevertheless, no matter how sorry it sounded, you grew dependent on them. They plagued your thoughts like a disease: that brief period you experience between sleep and consciousness filled with thoughts of them, the moments of long silence at home were spent thinking about your boys, and even when you were with them, ironically, you couldn't stop thinking about them.

How did Mirio get all those scars? I wonder if Tamaki is eating enough? Where were they staying in the city?

You actively worried about them for some reason that was completely lost on you. You were so used to them being there, you weren't even sure how you used to live without them.

"We leave this Sunday."

Turns out you were gonna find out sooner than expected.

"S-so soon?" You choked out, setting your mug down. He had caught you so off guard that you started choking on your hot chocolate. After calming down and assuring them that you weren't dying, you were able to think.

You knew they were just visiting and they'd have to leave eventually. But, for some inane reason, you thought you'd have more time. More time to prepare. More time to...more time with them.

They had walked into the shop by themselves and headed straight for your booth like they had just been drafted for war, which set off emergency lights in your brain. You should have known they were delivering bad news.

"We've actually been here way longer than we were supposed to." Mirio laughed, scratching the back of his head.

"They had to call us back this time," Tamaki's soft-spoken voice imputed, but it seemed like he was talking to himself, "They've never had to call us back before."

"Called back? By who?" You looked between them expectantly.

"Uh, by our leaders. It's a small place, you know? So everyone is basically family. It only makes sense that they'd be worried about us taking too long." The blond explained, rubbing his hands together to get rid of the cold.

So, they were leaving because they were told to? Their leaders had that much sway over their lives?

"Couldn't you guys just...stay a little longer?" Now you were begging them to stay. But what else could you do? By the way they were talking, you could safely assume that they wouldn't be visiting you any time soon.

Mirio frowned, placing his big hand on top of yours. Big blue eyes a lot duller than usual. No matter how hard you looked you couldn't find that spark they typically had.

"I-Sunshine," he sighed, like a man passive to his fate, "it doesn't work like that. We have to go home."

You looked over at Tamaki who was already facing you, a huge improvement from when you first met. His head was down and if his pointed ears could droop like a sad puppy, you're sure they would. They didn't want to leave you just as much as you wanted them to stay.

There was no music playing in the shop to fill the silence between the three of you and the shop lacked the usual chatter. Seems like your earlier comparison had some truth to it. They may not be heading off to war, but they were still saying goodbye like they were. Like you'd never see them again. You felt lucky you even had the luxury of saying goodbye.

The sound of your heart beating against your ribs flooded your ears. Realistically, you knew they couldn't have drastically changed your life in a little over two months.

You could feel saliva collect in your mouth as your stomach gurgled ominously. Before them, every day you would wake up, work, go to the coffee shop, and go home without truly being awake. It felt like you were sleepwalking through your entire life. Living, but never alive. Never really there.

No one to see you. No one to hear you. You were nothing more than a ghost.

Your chest burned and your throat tightened. You couldn't go back to that. You'd be alone again. You couldn't be alone again.

You took a deep breath and schooled your expression, but you were sure that Mirio felt you shaking under his hand.

"What am I—" you swallowed the lump in your throat, "—What am I supposed to do now?" You whispered. But, who were you even asking: them or yourself? They were leaving your life just as fast as they came into it.

Mirio was quick to stand up and the leather booth squeaked under him as he slid into the seat beside you. The weight of his arm was comforting and heavy on your shoulders. His pointer finger and thumb closed in around your chin, turning you to face him.

"I don't..." His voice drifted off when he met your eyes, his lips twitching downwards into a frown. You could see the gears turning in his head before he nodded to himself. An internal conflict coming to an end. Something filled his eyes as he searched your face. It wasn't the spark that you were used to seeing, but a fire.

"Come with us."

Tamaki's head shot up, anxious indigo eyes looking between you before saying, "M-Mirio, are you sure she should come? She, um," his right hand moved to grip his left arm, "our culture is pretty different. S-she might not be able to...adjust."

"That won't be a problem. I'll look after her."

"That's what I'm worried about." He whispered loud enough for you to still hear, but the blond didn't seem deterred. He never looked away from you.

Mirio called you, pulling your attention back to him. You were pretty sure this was the first time you've heard him say your name.

"Look, Yuuie is...it's filled with people like you—like us," he gestured between the three of you, "A lot of people were looking for the same things you are and they found them in Yuuie." Every thing he said was filled with unwavering certainty, an unavoidable conviction that seeped into your bones. It was clear he honestly believed every word.

The conversation was moving too fast for you to fully understand what he was saying. One second, you're on the verge of a panic attack, and the next, you're being persuaded to run away with them? Crazy enough, you were actually considering it. It seemed like such a simple solution.

"You wanna be seen, right? Admired? Understood?—"

Were you that obvious?

"—Well, there's no better place to be seen than at Yuuie! Our leaders strive to provide a place where every single person is appreciated for their contributions. There's always new people coming along. People who desperately needed a home—a guiding hand. Right, Tamaki?"

"Yeah, I guess." Tamaki agreed with a resigned shrug of his shoulders, eyes downcast.

"See? I'm sure everyone there will love you! What do you have to lose?"

What did you have to lose? Your minimum wage job? Your one-room apartment? Your complete and utter lack of companionship?

If you did go with them, what would happen? You never really believed in all of that mumbo-jumbo about fate, but this seemed destined. Every solution to your problems is wrapped up in one big bow laid out in front of you. How could you say no?

So you didn't.

"Okay," you picked at your fingertips under the table, "I'll go with you." The corners of his lips twitched upwards before spreading into a grin. Thin lips moving to show off pearly whites. Even Tamaki looked happy, if not a little reluctant.

And at that moment, as they gazed at you like you were the only thing lighting their way, you never felt more sure of anything in your life.

"I swear you won't regret it, Sunshine.

___

You regretted agreeing to this. No matter how much you liked them, you never should have said yes. This whole thing had felt off-putting since you left.

If you were being truly honest with yourself, something didn't feel quite right since you met those two. Ever since the first time they walked into Komori's Delights, you knew there was something about them that caught your attention.

You originally thought it was because they were new and exciting...and hot. But, it was clear that from the start, your subconscious could tell something was off. Too bad you didn't listen to it.

The fact that Mirio and Tamaki came to pick you up was more than a little surprising, considering they didn't tell you they were coming beforehand.

Instead of taking an Uber, like you anticipated, they both were very insistent on taking the bus. Not one for needless confrontation, you agreed. You figured they knew more about this kind of thing than you did anyway. And they paid for the bus fare, so you couldn't complain.

The bus drove you about an hour out of the city before Mirio requested to get off; another thing that struck you as weird, but you didn't say anything. The three of you walked to a secluded point in the rode that led to an opening in the tree line. Well, you couldn't really call it secluded considering all the people gathered there.

The sheer amount of people waiting for you had stopped you in your tracks. Logically, you knew it was stupid to think there wouldn't be others coming with you, but a small part of you had hoped that you were the only one they were taking home with them.

Your hands gripped the straps of your backpack, sharp nails digging into taut leather. The weight loosening as you adjusted them on your shoulders. The trek so far had been strenuous. Your right ankle hurt from getting it twisted in a hole and mosquitoes were everywhere. Putting the physical strain traveling like this had on your body aside; the girl next to you had been talking your ear off nonstop.

You were all for making friends, but there should be a time and place to start talking about your fucking life story. And, considering your shoes were wet with mud and the humidity of the forest made your shirt cling to you like a second skin, now definitely wasn't the time. You didn't understand how someone could be so chatty in your current situation.

"—you quirkless too?"

"What?" Your neck snapped towards her so fast that if you were any quicker, you could have given yourself whiplash. What did she say?

"What? Are you deaf or something? I asked if you were quirkless too. As in, do you have a quirk or not?" You let the childish jab slide and focused on digesting the sentence. The grass tickled your throbbing ankle as you worked to keep pace with her long strides.

"You're quirkless?"

"Not just me. Every person I talked to is quirkless and I'm pretty sure I talked to, like, everyone here." Your eyes sharply swept over the group, keeping a headcount as you went.

If one out of one hundred people in Japan are quirkless, what were the odds that over twenty of them were gathered in the same place?

"Hey, it's supposed to be winter, right?"

"Yeah." You agreed absently, more focused on trying to get a glimpse of Mirio's blond hair at the front of the group or Tamaki's indigo hair somewhere at the back. You needed to talk to one of them. You needed to know what the hell was going on.

"So why the hell is it so hot?" She asked, pulling her brown hair into a low hanging ponytail. Her roots soaked with sweat, a true testament to the sweltering heat.

"I don't know." You stopped in your tracks, acutely aware of the people passing you, but remaining still. A rock thrown in the middle of a lake, but the stream still flowing nonetheless.

Too many things were happening for them to be a coincidence. You weren't a mathematician, but even you could see that the parts of this equation did not add up. Mirio and Tamaki showing up at your apartment, the number of people without quirks gathered in one spot, and the muggy heat in the forest combined to form a sizeable pit in your stomach.

It was a mistake to come here.

"Y/n? What are you talking about?"

Tamaki's quiet voice startled you out of your thoughts. You hadn't realized you were talking out loud; you hoped he hadn't heard much. You didn't even hear him approaching. His lithe frame stopped beside you as you readjusted your grip on your backpack.

Perhaps you were overreacting; Just being paranoid. And, if something actually was wrong, it wouldn't be wise to tell him about your concerns. Either of them, a small part of your brain whispered. Probably the logical part. For now, you'll keep your suspicions close to your chest. You started forward with a limp towards everyone else, Tamaki close behind you.

"Y-you shouldn't stray too far from the rest of the group. Are you hurt?"

"Um, my ankle is sore and it's only going to get worse the more I walk on it," you looked over the treetops as you walked by them. No birds. No squirrels. Nothing, "Which brings up a question: How long until we get to Yuuei?"

You watched him stumble over his words before answering.

"I-uh, I'm not really sure. But it...shouldn't take too long now," you watched from the corner of your eye as he pulled a plastic baggy full of small baked balls out of his backpack, "Here, it's takoyaki."

You paused.

"What do you want me to do with it?"

"We've been out here for a while, I-I thought you might have been hungry," a flush settled on the apples of his cheeks as he stared at the ground, "You don't have to eat it, o-of course. I was just worried about you."

Worried about you? You stared down at the small ball of dough and meat he placed in your hand and waited. You half expected him to tell you what he wanted in return for the food, but he didn't. You were quick to accept, alonst forgetting to say thanks in your haste, especially considering he was right about one thing.

You were starving. It felt like you hadn't eaten all day, which couldn't be right since the sun was still where it was when you began to walk. You could just chalk it up to the incredible heat and humidity in the forest. And your job definitely didn't make you the most athletic person, so you got tired easily.

"Why aren't you up front with Mirio?"

"I have to stay back here to make sure nobody gets...lost," his shoulders hunched as he pulled out more takoyaki, "Besides, I-I don't really like being front and center like Mirio. I'm not brave enough to lead people." It was just a hunch, but you got the feeling that this was about more than just your current situation. His words were weighted like they had some type of double meaning behind them.

Sure, Tamaki wasn't the most confident guy you met. And, yeah, he could barely get through a conversation with a little old lady without chickening out. But, you were able to read people; you were so good at it that it was basically your quirk.

"Brave? I think bravery is relative. Each person is brave on their own terms," the group's chatter became louder as you got closer, "You left your hometown for the first time and came to the city, right? Don't you think that's brave?"

"No," his voice was so soft you could barely hear him, "not really."

"Hmm," you finally bit into the ball of bread and octopus, "You shouldn't try to measure yourself based off of other people's limits. I think you're brave enough as you are." You could feel his gaze trail over the side of your face like he was trying to use his eyes to crack you open. You decisively decided to ignore it.

"Thank you, y/n."

___

With the help of Tamaki, you were finally able to find Mirio. Actually, once you pushed through the throng of people it wasn't exactly hard to find his broad figure. That's another thing you noticed about him; just how much he stood out. Even Tamaki, who tried his hardest to blend into the shadows, easily grabbed attention. Demanding the focus of any room they walked into, if not with mere presence alone.

Despite that, they weren't what you were thinking about. The temperature was high and the morale was low. The group's overall excitement had dimmed considerably since you started traveling and there were more than a few people grumbling and whining. But, really, who could blame them?

The sun bore down on all of you with an oppressing heat and it was only getting hotter. The air was heavy with the evaporated rain, making it feel more like you were wading through an impossibly deep pool instead of hiking through a forest. Every step you took felt weighed down as if the air had wrapped itself around every limb like a heavy blanket.

You weren't the only one feeling the effects of the journey. You picked up bits and pieces of conversation as you walked, more like limped, next to Mirio. Protests from the group grew louder the longer you went. Surrounded by heat and with no break in sight, the crowd got antsy.

"It's so hot—"

"...long are we gonna keep walki—"

"All the trees look...same."

"—we're in a forest, dumbass."

"You know what I mean, man! I swear...passed this one before."

You were running on fumes yourself, but they didn't see you complaining. You dragged your eyes over to Mirio. Fluffy, golden hair bounced in its ponytail with every step as he marched forward. The sun set a glow on his peachy skin, but there wasn't a single drop of sweat on him. Considering he lived here his whole life, you assumed he probably was just used to the crazy heat. He kept his eyes forward with a placid smile on his face. If he was bothered by the groups growing grievances, he definitely didn't show it.

You stumbled until your shoulder hit the nearest tree, bark scratching harshly against your sweaty skin, but your ankle throbbed so sharply that you didn't even care. It was so hot. You brought a shaking hand up to wipe at your forehead. You all were walking for so long, but it felt like the sun's rays only got more intense.

"Okay, I think that's enough. You're pushing yourself way too hard. You're practically dead on your feet," he put his backpack on his chest and squatted down in front of you, "Hop on, Sunshine."

Your eyes widened. Was he serious?

"Wouldn't it make more sense to take a break? I'm sure I'm not the only person tired here." You panted, growing conscious of the eyes on you.

"If we stop now, we won't make it before nightfall. Come on. I'm not getting up until you get on. Just think of me as your noble steed." He smiled at you like he had no clue how embarrassing he was.

It was a thoughtful gesture. He had offered to let you get on his back earlier when he saw you stumbling around, but you declined, which proved to be a dumb decision on your part. And the thought of walking on your bum ankle anymore made you queasy, even now it throbbed despite you resting.

You gave a quick glance sideways at the group and, of course, they were all staring, staring, staring with their judgy little eyes. You guys hadn't even been out here that long and they somehow formed a group that you clearly weren't welcomed in.

You sighed.

There was no use being unnecessarily difficult. You were holding up the group as it was, and you had a feeling that he actually wouldn't get up unless you got on his back.

So you buried your pride and hobbled over to him. His big hands grabbed the bottom of your thighs and hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. You weren't sure where to put your arms and just draped them over his shoulders.

His cool skin worked wonders for the extreme heat you were feeling that you couldn't help but cling to his back further. Was it inappropriate? Probably. And your clammy skin was likely getting sweat all over him. Did you care? Not at all.

However, you couldn't help but think of yourself as an annoyance. Sure, everyone else was complaining, but they were still on their own two feet. And here you were, forcing Mirio to carry you in his back because you couldn't handle the journey when he was probably just as tired as you.

"Hey, you wanna hear a joke?," he suddenly asked, pulling you out of your thoughts, "What did the man with two left eyes and two right eyes tell his doctor? He had double vision! Ha!" He laughed, a little too proud of his joke. Maybe it was because of how he said it completely out of nowhere or because of how utterly stupid it was, but it made you smile.

Then Mirio beamed at you from over his shoulder and his vivid blue eyes seemed like they shined even brighter when you chuckled at his corny joke.

Did he tell you a joke in hopes that you'd relax?

"If you thought that was funny, there's tons more where that came from. Heh, I really have my mentor to thank for this A+ material. Now, what do you call somebody with nobody and no nose?"

But you didn't hear the punchline as the heat and the vibration of Mirio's voice swayed you into a restless sleep.

Voices shouting, shouting all around you. Intense heat. Being carried through a dark purple cloud and then...nothing.

___

When you awoke, you were still on Mirio's back, but you weren't in the forest anymore. Instead, all you saw was a wall. Your eyes lazily swept over the great expanse of cement, muscles straining as your neck craned towards the sky. The sunlight hit your eyes, blurring your vision as you tried to see the top. The wall was taller than any of the buildings you saw in the city.

Was this another dream? Had to be. But it felt so real. Too real.

You tried to climb off of Mirio's back, but your body felt like it was being weighed down by the air alone. And Mirio's tightening grip definitely didn't help. You could barely keep your eyes open as you blearily looked around, but you couldn't make out anything but shapes.

"Don't worry, Sunshine. Just go ahead and rest those pretty, little eyes. I'll take care of you."

"M...irio...wh—" You could hardly keep your eyes open enough to finish your sentence. Darkness seizing your vision as Mirio's movements lulled you back to sleep. Your hearing was the last thing to go.

"How long did this group last, Sir?"

"Two days."

"A whole two days?! Pretty impressive, all things considered. Right, Sir?"

"Yes, Mirio..."

[radishaur]

Sorry I already submitted this but then i realized i could submitt it this way. But whar if y/n has a celebrity crush( still dont care who) and zuko gets jealous

Hi! Firstly, I love your username. Secondly, I would love to do this! I’m going to assume that this is still in the ATLA universe. I hope you like it!

•••

Someone Famous (Zuko x Reader)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Part: 1/1

Summary: See Request

•••

“Isn’t he just the cutest? Ugh, it should be illegal to be that handsome,” you sighed, continuing to cook dinner with Katara.

Gossiping and having girl talk with Katara was something the two of you had done since the very first day you joined the Gaang. Toph was never one for that kind of thing and Suki wasn’t around for the majority of your travels, so you were a welcome addition.

“I know, right?!” Katara agreed, grinning widely, “And that was only the photo!”

Your conversation carried over into the other room where Zuko, Sokka, and Aang were all relaxing after training. Zuko felt a hint of jealousy hearing you swoon over some random guy but tried his best to hide it from the other boys. Aang seemed to miss it, but Sokka didn’t.

“Someone’s jealous,” he teased, elbowing the other teen in the side.

“No I’m not!” Zuko protested, shoving Sokka away and scowling at him.

“Jealous of what?” Aang asked innocently.

“Zuko’s eavesdropping on Katara and Y/N’s discussion in the kitchen. They’re swooning over some boy,” Sokka explaining, a cheeky grin on his face directed at Zuko.

“I’m not eavesdropping, Sokka. They’re just loud,” Zuko groaned, once again trying to defend himself.

Sokka rolled his eyes and laid back into the couch, ready to let the topic go and continue talking, but Aang seemed suddenly very interested in their conversation.

“I mean, it couldn’t hurt to listen. Maybe then you can get intel on what kind of boy’s Kata- I mean Y/N likes! ...Yea...,” Aang said, grinning sheepishly at his slip up.

Sokka sent an empty glare at Aang that still managed to make him cower, nevermind that he was the AVATAR, but conceded to eavesdrop with the other two.

All three boys sat silently, the sound of Katara and your’s talking filling the room easily. Zuko was right after all. You guys weren’t exactly quiet.

“And those eyes! Don’t get me started on those eyes,” Katara giggled.

“I know. It’s no wonder he’s famous,” you said, sending a sinking feeling in Zuko’s stomach.

This guy was famous? It was bad enough when he thought the person was some random nobody, but someone famous? How was he supposed to compete with that? He was just a banished prince with an ugly scar on his face.

Not even trying to hide his souring mood, Zuko dunk into the couch and crossed his arms. Aang and Sokka were still listening animatedly.

“Shuji has got to be one of my favorite celebrities. Not only is he a good performer, but I’ve heard he’s actually a good person,” you said.

Zuko remembered seeing a poster for a famous street dancer in the marketplace of Ember Island named Shuji. He was a performer from the colonies, using his fire bending and Earth Kingdom good looks to dance and to charm the hearts of his audience. To be honest, even Zuko had to admit he was handsome. He could never compete with him.

“He seems like such a genuine person. It’s hard to beat that combo. Handsome and kind. What a dream,” Katara swooned, a lovesick expression on her face.

Aang visibally deflated at her words, mirroring Zuko’s own crestfallen expression. Sokka seemed to notice the gloomy boys because he rolled his eyes and turned to face them.

“You guys, it’s just a celebrity crush. They don’t actually have feelings for him,” Sokka said concolingly.

Zuko just grunted and continued brooding. Aang seemed to be a little brighter at the encouragement but he still looked disappointed. Before either of the boys could respond, Katara’s question caught their attention.

“What’s your top 3 list of celebrity crushes?” she asked excitedly.

Zuko listened intently, trying to push down the feelings of jealousy he was experiencing about listening to you talk about other guys. Maybe if he listened he could figure out your type at least. Even if he never thought it would be him.

“Hmmm. Top three? That’s hard. I guess my #3 would be Shuji, my #2 would be Kichi, the actor from Omashu, and my number one would be...,” you paused, trying to think of who it could be.

Zuko was on the edge of his seat. So far, your type was Earth Kingdom boys which wasn’t anywhere close to him. He grabbed the cup of tea in front of him to hopefully calm him down and took a sip.

“Oh, I know! My #1 without a shadow of a doubt has to be the Blue Spirit!”

Zuko promptly choked on his drink, spitting it out as he began to cough out what got caught in his throat, his jealousy gone and replaced with shock. Aang was looking at him with wide eyed and a huge smile. Sokka began pounding on his back to help him clear his throat. Apparently the commotion caught your and Katara’s attention, because the two of you also ran into the room to see what was going on.

“Zuko, what happened?” you asked in concern.

Zuko was still too busy coughing to respond. Aang took that as his opportunity to answer for him.

“We were just listening to your guy’s conversation. Do you really like the Blue Spirit that much?” Aang asked, smiling innocently and ignoring the wild look of panic that crossed Zuko’s face.

You didn’t seem at all bothered by the question though, simply laughing and smiling back at him.

“I do, actually. I know that he’s had questionable ethics in the past, but he saved you from Zhao. That and I saw him once when we were in Ba Sing Se,” you admitted, the corner of your lip turning up slightly at the memory.

“You did?” Sokka asked in shock.

“I didn’t know that,” Katara said, feigning hurt at not being told the secret earlier.

“It didn’t seem that important to mention!” you argued, crossing your arms defensively.

“You’ve gotta tell us!” Aang said excitedly, bouncing in his seat.

“Well, I was just walking around the lower ring when I saw this lady getting robbed. It was getting kind of late, so it was kind of dark. I was going to jump in, but then he came out of the shadows and beat me to it. He gave the lady her belongings back before disappearing again,” you explained nonchalantly.

“He seems like a great guy,” Katara said with a small smile.

“I think so. I didn’t see him again after that, but I kept hearing stories of the Blue Spirit who would come out at night and save people from danger. Maybe they’re just rumors, but I know what I saw that night. Besides, I can respect a man who changes for the better like that. Like Zuko!” you exclaimed, turning to smile brightly at him.

It was then you noticed his face was a bright red and he was curling into himself on the couch. He averted his gaze as everyone turned to look at him, his embarrassment clear. You cocked your head to the side, not understanding what was going on at all.

“Zuko, buddy, what’s wrong with you?” Sokka asked, shaking Zuko slightly with a hand on his arm.

“I um...N-Nothing. I’m fine,” he forced out, still refusing to look at anyone but especially you.

Frowning, you made your way to the coffee table and sat down on it across from Zuko. It was pretty hard to ignore you from there, especially when your knees brushed his.

“You’re not fine. Spit it out. Why does the Blue Spirit make you so uncomfortable?” you insisted, leaning back against your arms.

Zuko flicked his gaze over to Aang who simply gave him a small thumbs up and a smile. He bit his lip before returning his gaze to you. You stared at him expectantly, but your gaze was free of judgement. He felt his heart flutter as he looked at you and decided to just admit it.

“It’s just that uh, well.... actually I’m the Blue Spirit.”

The room was silent for a moment as everyone processed the new information. You seemed the most shocked of them all and he felt his heart drop as he watched a million emotions flash across your face.

“It’s true,” Aang piped in, “I saw him when he rescued me. His mask fell off when he got hit in the face with an arrow.”

Silence once again filled the room and Zuko felt his heart sink. He was waiting silently for you to judge him and think differently of him for lying or pretending to be someone he wasn’t, but that never came. Instead, he felt you wrapping him in a warm embrace.

“That’s so cool!” you exclaimed, pulling back from your hug before asking eagerly, “Did you really save a a kid from falling out of a window or was that a rumor?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. Sokka snickered from beside him and began cracking some joke about how Zuko was broken now. None of it reached his ears though. He was too nosy looking at you in a mix of awe and apprehension. Maybe this was all a joke?

“You’re not mad?” he managed to ask quietly.

“Mad? Of course not! I just said you were my number one idol. Why would I be anything but excited?” you asked, clearly confused.

“Actually, you said he was your celebrity crush,” Aang corrected you, innocently oblivious to the embarrassment that caused you.

Your cheeks reddened as you turned to face Zuko with a sheepish smile.

“Right. I did say that.”

Zuko’s jealousy was long gone at that point. The two of you spent the rest of the night talking about his adventures as the Blue Spirit, from how he got the mask to how he ended up becoming a savior instead of a thief. Before the two of you noticed, it was the late hours of the night and both of you were getting tired.

“I should probably go to sleep. I have a long day of training with Aang tomorrow,” Zuko said, standing up awkwardly to leave.

“Yea, I should go too,” you said, standing up as well.

There was an awkward pause as the two of you simply looked at each other. It was like the world stopped and nothing else mattered but the other person. After a few more moment, it was you who broke the silence.

“Hey Zuko?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Remember how I said you were my celebrity crush without really knowing it was you?”

“...Yes?”

“Well, I have something to confess.”

“What is it, Y/N?”

“You’re not just my celebrity crush. You’re also my actual crush.”

Zuko couldn’t stop a giddy smile from breaking out on his face. He began laughing which made you frown. You thought he was laughing at you, which made you want to take back everything you had just said and bury yourself in the ground.

“I like you too, Y/N. A lot,” Zuko admitted before you could say anything.

You smiled up at him, the full weight of his words lifting a weight off your shoulders. He actually liked you back. You actually liked him back. The two of you had the stupidest grins on your faces as you stood together.

Zuko let his hands curl around your waist and pulled you closer. You had no qualms about that, moving your arms to rest on his shoulders. Slowly, giving you time to back away if you wanted, he began to lean in to kiss you. You moved your head up to meet his and felt your lips melt into his.

If this was going to be the outcome everytime, perhaps you should talk about your celebrity crushes more often.

[mattzerella-sticks]

Desperation, Baby! (coda to 15x19 “Inherit the Earth”, Dean & Lucifer, Dean/Cas, 2.3k, T)

ao3 link

Death took her sweet time parsing through Chuck's book, meaning Lucifer spent longer than he'd like surrounded by his former vessel, his brother, his son, and a man whose obvious longing made him want to vomit. Instead of returning with his prize, Chuck welcoming him back, he must waste his valuable time playing 'nice; with those he can't stand.

Not that it matters. They don't trust him, each member of this ragtag group of survivors watching Lucifer in shifts. Never leaving him alone.

It's Dean's turn now, and he's driving Lucifer up a wall by doing nothing at all save for broadcasting a never-ending supply of feeling. Can he cut the signal without showing his hand, or put Dean's heart to good use?

           It’s pathetic, truly. Lucifer huffs, deflating, sinking further into his seat. Weighed down by obscene amounts of longing that poured freely off Dean like a broken hydrant. Funneled into his awareness because its usual drain was cordoned forever. It flooded these now silent angelic air waves, Lucifer growing more annoyed with each, excruciating second. Until, finally, “Holy hell, can you please quit it?”

           Dean startles from where he stood, jaw tensing. Mouth flattening in a thin line as he glares, “What?”

           “Quit. It. Quitit!” He hisses, leaning forward. Stretches his arms across the table, reaching for Dean. Fingers twitching, Lucifer imagines Dean’s neck between them. “Seriously, you’re giving me a migraine with all your feelings.”

           “Good.” Dean surprises Lucifer with his response. No attempted denial, nor misdirection. His gaze unflinchingly pierced through Lucifer’s vessel, pride bolstering its blow. Lucifer cannot detect any shame that usually clings to his soul, none of that smell lingering. He’s grown since they’ve last seen each other. Stunning character development. “Deserve it, after that dick move you pulled earlier.”

           “You still upset about that?” Scoffing, Lucifer rises. Meanders across the room towards Dean, gaze never straying. Easy since it’s only them. “I thought my gift would have more than made up for that.” He grins, rocking on his heels. A breadth of space separates them now. “How else was I supposed to get in, anyway?” he continues, “Not like if I called as myself you’d’ve rolled out the welcome mat.”

           “But… Cas?” Lucifer savors the taste of his brother’s name, drenched in sadness. Ripped from Dean’s heart in a barely controlled sob.

           “Nasty habit,” he giggles, “Though the results speak for themselves. I mean – you know how easy it was smooth-talking little Sammy when I looked like his ol’ flame, Jess?” Dean doesn’t laugh, snarled lip suffocating Lucifer’s airy mirth. “You’re no fun.”

           “Sorry,” Dean growls, “why don’t you try later when the world’s not ending.”

           “It’s always ending. In one way or another.” Lucifer waves his hand and a chair drags itself over. He straddles it, gazing up at Dean. “If we waited for peace to enjoy life, there’d be no time. Better to… say what’s in your heart, even if it kills you.” He frowns, mockingly, “Or in Castiel’s case… did kill him.”

           Dean slams his fist against the wall. “You have no right –“

           “Timeout there,” Lucifer smirks, eyes glowing red. Reflection of Dean’s entire face, blood rapidly swelling his cheeks. “Don’t want to do anything you’ll regret…” He holds Dean there, frozen, waits until the other man seems calm. Dips his head, tries catching Dean’s gaze. “If I let you go, will you behave?” Dean remains silent, yet Lucifer hears him. Tunes into his frequency, actively sifting through his frenzied emotions. “Seriously,” he lets Dean go, hunter falling on his ass, “how are we supposed to work as a team if you’re not willing to cooperate?”

           “This… isn’t a team,” Dean spits, “you’re working… with the Empty.”

           “And the Empty’s trying to take Chuck out!” he argues, “So, enemy of my enemy is my friend or all that nonsense –“

           “Go to hell.”

           “I wish I could, but I’m kinda on a short leash.” Bored with Dean’s resistance, Lucifer threads his next few words with seriousness. “Listen, once Betty’s done with the book I’ll flit on out of here and one, two, three – humanity is saved from dear, ol’ dad! We can make this all painless if you’d just trust me, or we can keep doing what we’re doing. I, personally, am tired of this bullshit. Rather be napping back in the Empty, but no…”

           “You should be.”

           “Beg pardon?”

           Dean bares his teeth, roiling hatred knocking Lucifer back a few inches. “You should still be sleeping, back there,” he says, “if anyone were supposed to come back, it’d be Cas. Not… you…”

           “Ah, Castiel, yes…” Lucifer sighs, “that would make sense, wouldn’t it? Of course, he lacks my raw power and charm, but… yes, you’d trust anything that he said.” Hand on his throat, he affects his vocal cords. Mimicking the other angel’s gravelly tone again, “Dean, please go along with Lucifer’s wishes and help him –“

           “Enough!” Dean kicks at a chair leg, interrupting Lucifer. Tears threaten to pour, dangling from his lashes like morning dew. “If you really wanna play nice, you’d stop doing that.”

           “This is nice, buddy.” Lucifer pokes at Dean’s leg with the toe of his boot. “Why don’t you grow some thick skin, huh? Where’s the real Dean Winchester? That tough guy with endless bravado instead of this sad, sorry piece of shit that’s pining after some dead guy?”

           Dean turns, Adam’s apple bobbing. “That isn’t me. I… he never was.” An intimate confession whispered into ancient brickwork. Meaningful for a different crowd. Except Lucifer shows little care, sarcastic clapping shattering Dean’s moment.

           “Wow, Dean… really fantastic. Amazing!” He climbs off the chair, crouching closer. Tongue dragged over his lips, smile wide. “Your verbose diction astounds me… did you whip that together after my brother got dragged into super hell? Are you still workshopping it – okay if I give you a few notes?” Lucifer pinches Dean’s cheek, poking this rabid grizzly. “At least you’ve got that face. Clearly Cas didn’t fall for your emotional maturity, your observational prowess or timing…”

           He weakly bats Lucifer off him, “You don’t know anything…”

           “I think I know quite a lot,” Lucifer challenges him, “Between the both of us, only I managed to slip inside my tight-ass little brother. Probably why I knew all his little… perversions, although it was clear as day how he felt about you to everyone – well… almost everyone.” His hand settles on Dean’s chest, atop his heart. “Do you know amazing it was, when I slipped my blade through him? You were a buffet that night… fear, relief, hope… despair. I could’ve ended him in that other dimension, but I waited until he crossed back. Knew how much more painful it’d be.”

           “Monster,” Dean says, “Fucking psychopath.”

           “The old me, maybe.” Lucifer teleports, sitting on a nearby table. Legs absentmindedly pedaling, stirring confusion within Dean. “But I’ve been reborn on the right side, Dean. Nobler. I’ve got purpose.”

           “You’ve got a load of shit,” he accuses, standing on shaky legs, “that you’re trying to sell me. Us.”

           “Come on!” Lucifer groans, hands flying skyward, “Isn’t this supposed to be your eleventh hour? How can you be so stubborn? Here I come, with a Hail Mary, and you’re turning your nose up at me like some snob. Like you have better options waiting. All because you won’t work with the Empty –“

           “It’s not just that,” Dean corrects him, “I also don’t want to work with you.”

           He crosses his arms, pouting. “You’re gonna have to suck that up. So the Empty wouldn’t send your boytoy, do you blame them? For a broken, little thing he sure is popular. Who’s to say Cas’d come back once this all wraps up? At least the Empty trusts me.”

           “I guess something has to.”

           “You can, too, if you want.” Lucifer casts his reel wide, waiting. Eyebrows waggling like baited worms. “It’d be a hell lot easier than what you’re doing now. Come on…” he needles, “why is it so hard to believe in miracles?”

           “Please…” Dean says, hiding his face behind his knees. Arms circled around his legs, curled into a ball. “Stop talking.”

           He relents for the time being. Proud of what cracks in Dean’s armor he made. When Chuck sent him, he asked Lucifer to ruffle a few feathers. Mess with their heads, ensure this ragtag group of losers would stay down. Accept their fate, end this miserable experiment called humanity in sadness. “Don’t provoke them too much, though,” Chuck warned, fists curled along his jacket’s lapels, “Betrayals only work when the other side doesn’t expect them. Plot’s stretched thin as it is, bringing you back doesn’t really make sense –“

           “I love you too, dad.”

           “That’s why you need to lay it on thick,” he said, “steer them away from why, keep the action moving.”

           Lucifer stared down at his father, frowning. “Anything else you need?”

           “No,” Chuck clapped Lucifer’s shoulder, nodding. “Just be yourself.”

           Except none of them wanted him. Especially Dean. He wanted… Castiel.

           It’s a little off-script, but Lucifer bets Chuck will enjoy what he plans. Even if it’ll involve his least favorite character. Lucifer hops off the table, grace burning across his body. Razing this vessel’s form, stealing its characteristics and distinguishability. A tall mound of clay left that he molds into a new body. Darker hair, sturdier frame, and bluer eyes. “Dean,” he says, swallowing his laughter. “Dean…” He tries again, sounding exactly like him.

           Like Castiel.

           Dean tenses, “Cas?” Barely audible, Lucifer strained to hear his prayer. That hope, sweetness quickly bittering as Dean digests the scene. “No…” he sighs, mumbling into his legs. “Lucifer, thought I told you to quit it.”

           “Lucifer is gone, Dean,” he lies, kneeling. “I’m here… please, Dean, look at me.” Lucifer grabs at Dean’s head, thankful the other man lets him. Green finds masked-blue, their ‘reunion’ drawing a pained breath.

           “What?” Dean asks, a single tear slipping free. Trails along his cheek until it falls off his chin. “How – how is this happening?”

           “Because of you, Dean.” Lucifer’s hands shift, a thumb smearing that tearstain while he runs fingers through Dean’s hair. “You refused Lucifer’s help, even though what he said was true. The Empty saw and decided, if we were to truly end Chuck, the risk of sending me will be worth it.” Expression darkening, Lucifer leans into dramatics. Lips quivering as he recites his next line, “Though not without conditions, Dean – I… you know I can’t stay, right?”

           “You will,” he says, “Cas – we will… if this book really can end Chuck, and we take him out, what can the Empty do –“

           “Take you,” Lucifer cuts him off. “Take you… Sam, and Jack. I step even an inch out of line and we all get sucked into their being, with no hope of actually defeating my father.” He nearly breaks character, watching how the light in Dean’s eyes flickered before being snuffed. Lucifer regains composure, growling his next words. ���You understand this, then? What it means?”

           Dean nods, snaking his hands across Lucifer’s wrists. “Means we don’t have long,” he barks, squeezing tight. “I have to set it right, right now.”

           “Dean –“

           “No, Cas,” Dean talks over him, guiding Lucifer’s hands off where they rested. Silences the disguised archangel by chaining him, making Lucifer a helpless victim. Awe real as he waits for Dean, cowed by longing powerful than his earlier annoyance. “I… I need to get through this because – well, the last time you didn’t let me get a word in edgewise and I, there was a lot left unsaid that I don’t want to stay that way. If we can’t have a future, then at least… at least we have here.” He laughs, choking on it. More tears dance their way down.

           “When you told me you loved me, I couldn’t believe it,” Dean confesses, “and then, when you told me why I – I was… I believed that less. I mean, you… you’ve listened to your heart more than I have. Even if a few of those times it was wrong, everything you did was for love. Knowing you was – that was my happiness. Having you, in whatever way you’d let me. Because there you were, this shining beacon, and for some reason you kept on letting me bask in your glow. I felt I… I didn’t deserve it. That I didn’t deserve you.”

           Dean brings Lucifer’s knuckles to his lips, pressing a light kiss along a patch of skin. The gesture disgusts him. “And you were right about how – I thought of myself so… so poorly, it kept me from saying and – and doing things I wish I’d done sooner. All my life I thought there were things I couldn’t have, rules I had to live by, and I never questioned them until you saved me from hell. Literal and figurative. Because of you, I wanted to be a better person. I wanted to be good. But I never believed I could. Then you tell me you loved me… because I was good. I already was the kind of person I thought seemed impossible. I couldn’t believe it. What’s stranger… I didn’t have to believe it, to know it’s true.” Dean smiles at him, Lucifer mirroring his gesture though it pained him. “I’m the person I always wished I could be, and even when you’re gone I’ll still be that person. I’ll miss you, Cas. Always. I’ll miss you, and I’ll love you. I’ll love you always.”

           It happens before Lucifer realizes. Distracted, nauseated by Dean’s powerful emotions, he missed how a hand snuck its way towards his neck. Pinched there, startling him. In that second, Dean forces Lucifer into an embrace. Lips crashing together, Lucifer stays frozen while Dean attacks his mouth. Mewling, whimpering.

           Disgusting.

           He pulls the curtains back, reverting to his previous form. Delights in how Dean senses the change, peeking with one eye as Castiel’s face vanishes. The other man violently hurls himself to the side, gaping at him. “Why Dean,” Lucifer grins, awkwardness heavy in his tone, “if I had known that’s how you felt about me…”

           Dean sobs, wiping at his lips. “How… what the –“

           “You really thought I was Cas, didn’t you?” Laughing, Lucifer towers over him. “I figured you’d catch on but… I underestimated you. And for that I’m sorry.” He devours these new emotions radiating from Dean, eagerly lapping them up. “I’m also sorry that you’ve convinced you deserve a happy ending,” he twists the knife further. Dean flinches, turning. Fleeing. Lucifer shouts at his retreating figure. “That’s not your story, Dean! Don’t ask for more, be happy with what you have!”

           Then, as he waits for his next babysitter, Lucifer’s eyes glow red. “Because soon enough… you won’t even have that.”

[bellakitse]

We begin on a Tuesday

When the 126 have a spot to fill in their crew, Judd recommends his buddy Carlos Reyes from the 121.

*

Firefighter Carlos AU!

30 days of Tarlos - Day 16 

Part 1 of a 3 part series 

TK meets Carlos Reyes on a Tuesday. He studies him quietly from across the table between them as his father interviews the good-looking firefighter for a recently open position in their team. He and his father have been in Austin for almost eight months now, and in that time, they have built a solid crew, but when Price requests a transfer because her wife got a promotion that requires relocation, they’re left with a spot to fill.

Judd is the one that comes to them with Carlos Reyes as a candidate; the man sings his praises; he tells them about Carlos’ record, his instincts as a firefighter, his empathy, and his loyalty. It’s obvious by the way Judd speaks about his friend that he respects him – given that it’s taken months for him to earn the same level of respect from him, TK is impressed before they even meet with Carlos.

“I have to say, Reyes,” Owen starts, he looks down at his notes like he’s studying them again. TK sucks in the corner of his bottom lip to keep from smirking. His father has read it more than once, and though this interview has been going on for almost thirty minutes now, he knows his father made up his mind less than ten minutes in.  “Judd was right; you really are impressive.”

Carlos doesn’t blush, but it’s a near thing as he gives them a small smile. “Judd is a good friend, sir, he might have embellished a bit,” he says humbly, and TK has to bite down on his lip to keep from letting out a ridiculous smitten sigh.  He can’t help it though; Carlos Reyes is a dream, he’s the walking definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Add to that his soft voice, and bashfulness and TK is already crushing hard.

“Captain Blake also raves about you,” his dad continues, and this time Carlos does blush.

“Michelle has known me since I was in high school, I had classes with her sister,” he explains with a shrug. “She’s my best friend.”

“So she embellished too?” Owen questions with a raised eyebrow and a grin.

“Probably,” Carlos chuckles softly before turning serious. “I’m good at my job, sir. I work hard, and I make a commitment every time I put on the uniform to be the best I can be for the people we’re here to help, but most importantly, for my team. If I’m not, one of them can get hurt, and I’m not about to let that happen.”

TK looks over at his dad catching the glint in his eye; it’s one he’s familiar with, an understanding of that instinct to protect, to save, he’s seen it in the eyes of every one of his crew members at some point.

“You’ve been with the 121 for two years now, Carlos,” his father comments curiously. “That’s a long time to bond with a crew, and by what you just said, it’s obvious you’re loyal. Why consider coming here to us?”

Carlos makes a complicated face before letting out a sigh. “You’ve had run-ins with my former Captain, Billy Tyson,” he says matter of fact. Now it’s TK who makes a face at the reminder of the man that tried to take his father’s job.

He turns a little red when Carlos’ eyes stray to him; the way the corners of his mouth lift lets him know he caught his reaction.

“I hear he’s getting better,” his dad answers much more politely than TK could ever be.

“So I hear,” Carlos says with a tight smile. “But given that you know him and what he pulled here by trying to take your firehouse, you know Tyson is a bigot,” Carlos continues, not holding back. “His temporary replacement is cut from the same cloth.”

Owen sighs with a deep frown on his face. “Disappointing but not surprising, unfortunately.”

“I agree,” Carlos answers, his eyes drifting back to him for a moment before looking back at his dad. “It’s not a great place to be an ‘other’ as you can imagine, and that’s what I am because I’m gay.”

TK sees how the words cause his dad to sit up straighter, that protective streak of his radiating off him.

He feels a kinship instantly to Carlos; he remembers his first firehouse before ending up in his dad’s. It’s never easy being considered different, and he sympathizes with Carlos and what he might have to put up with on a daily basis to do his job.

“Now I’m not saying that Tyson or anyone else at the 121 discriminated against me because of my sexual orientation,” Carlos says quickly. “If that had been the case, I would have had them before a review faster than they could blink.”

“That’s right,” Owen says instantly, and with force, it makes Carlos smile, more freely and comfortable than before.

“Right,” he repeats, still smiling for a moment before it’s wiped away from his expression. “But even though they never discriminated against me, there has always been a wall between my team and me that I can’t seem to overcome.”

Carlos looks down at his hands, and TK can’t help but ache for him. His team is his family; he can’t imagine what it must feel like not to have that with the people that your life depends on.

“That’s why Judd recommended me for your team,” Carlos explains, giving them a half-smile. “He’s my friend, and he wants me to be in a place where I will be accepted. He talks about you, Captain, with so much respect and admiration.”

Carlos’ gaze finds him again, soft brown eyes that are warm and lovely, and TK just wants to get lost in them.

“He talks about the team,” Carlos says softly, his stare staying on him now, and TK has to remind himself to breathe. He’s been around good looking men before, but he’s never had an immediate reaction to a man the way he’s having one now with Carlos. It’s more than just Carlos’ pretty face; there is something in those brown eyes of his that TK is instantly connected too. “You’re his family; he and Michelle want me to have the same; that’s why they asked you to interview me.”

Owen makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, his face is neutral, but TK knows his father well, and knows he’s affected by Carlos’ words. “Carlos, would you mind stepping out of the office for a moment?”

“Of course,” Carlos says as he quickly gets up from his seat and heads for the door, at the last moment, he turns back to them. “Whatever you decide, sir, I appreciate that I was even considered. And given everything Judd has been through, I’m grateful you’ve made him feel welcomed,” he tells them with a nod before he walks out, closing the door behind him.

The office is quiet for a moment after Carlos leaves, TK studies his dad, waiting for him to speak.

“What do you think?” he asks finally, and TK can’t help but chuckle.

“Why are you even asking me that, when you’ve already adopted him in your head, dad?” he questions, raising an eyebrow when Owen tries to protest.

“Okay, fine,” Owen huffs begrudgingly. “Maybe I’m considering adopting him.”

“I know,” he says, laughing again at his father. “You’re awesome that way.”

Owen grins at him. “Did you like him?”

“Yeah,” he says quickly, knowing it’s entirely true. It’s not just that he’s attracted to Carlos, though he is, ridiculously so for someone he’s known for less than an hour and who spent most of that time talking to his dad and not him. He likes Carlos as a person; what little he knows of him just makes him want to know more; he wants to know everything. “I really liked him.”

The words aren’t completely out of his mouth, but he knows he’s said too much from the way his dad’s expression changes in a second, it goes from considering to amused in the blink of an eye.

“Oh TK,” he says, chuckling in a way that has him blushing at how knowing he sounds. “That fast, kid? Really?”

TK blushes harder, scowling when it just makes his dad chuckle some more. “Shut up, dad,” he says, standing up.

“Well then, on top of feeling like Carlos would be a good fit here,” his dad starts, zero remorse for his amusement at his expense. “It will be fun to see you deal with a crush; it’s been a while.”

TK ignores the ribbing for now and focuses on the rest of his dad’s comment. “So, you’re hiring him?”

Owen rolls his eyes at him. “Even if I didn’t like him, on qualifications alone, I would be nuts not too. He was being too humble; he’s damn good at his job. Plus, I do like him, and I don’t like the idea of him spending one more second in the 121 where he’s obviously not comfortable. This is a no brainer.”

TK smiles, his heart full of love for his father and his kindness. “Good, I’m glad.”

“I bet you are,” Owen snorts, and TK loses his smile to glare at him. “Go, let him know he’s ours now.”

TK rolls his eyes, but even now, he can’t hide that he’s pleased by his father’s decision.

“And TK?” he calls out, stopping him just as he reaches for the door. “Keep it professional while on the clock.”

He doesn’t say anything as he leaves, arguing with his father would be pointless. His dad has always been able to read him clear as day, and he knows when he’s interested in someone.

He finds Carlos downstairs sitting down on the edge of the ladder truck; he stays quiet as he takes a seat next to him.

“So,” he says, looking over at Carlos, swallowing hard when he turns his head to look at him. Up close, those brown eyes are stunning with their specks of gold.

“So,” he says back with a soft look on his face. “What’s the verdict?”

“Oh please,” he says sarcastically with a grin. “You won him over about five seconds after you sat down. You’re officially his new favorite.”

Carlos chuckles, shaking his head, the smile on his face is like sunshine.

“Come on,” he says, patting Carlos’ shoulder before standing up. “I’ll introduce you to the crew, and let's see if you can charm the pants off them too.”

Carlos gets up, bringing his body close to his as he goes to his full height, this close TK is even more struck by his beauty.

“Charm their pants off, huh?” Carlos grins, it makes his eyes crinkle at the corners, and TK is sure his heart is going to burst out of his chest from beating so hard. It beats with the knowledge that this is the beginning of something. “Yours too?”

TK licks his lips, his stomach clenching as Carlos’ eyes drop to his mouth, his eyes darkening when he looks up at him again. He smiles, the anticipation of what’s to come coursing through him. “If you play your cards right.”

[a-walk-in-silence]

The New Coffee Spot

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Everything has changed in the world. People that were alive are now gone, and you? You’re one of the unlucky few who got to stick around.

Warnings: Infinity War, Endgame, mentions of death, character death, cursing, angst, crying, abandonment

A/N: Welcome to the sequel of the sequel that took almost two years! (Sorry for this not being posted two days ago I was sidetracked and my laptop just wasn’t working, but I’m here!)

Previous Part | Masterlist

The time spent awake was few and far between.

You were awake a few minutes at a time, enough to eat and drink something, and then your body gave out again. Every once in a while you would get snippets of Tony and Nebula talking. Sometimes you would even hear the sounds of them working on ship repairs. But you were never able to stay awake for long, your body wouldn't let you.

"She won't survive much longer. Neither of you will if we don't get rescued soon." Nebula's cold hands brushed across your side, gauging your wound and how it had managed to heal. "Air will run out soon. My modules would keep me alive, but the two of you will die when the air does."

A rough chuckle came from Tony as frail hands gripped your own. "You don't know how stubborn she is, then. She goes years living in one tiny apartment, in love with the second most egotistical person on Earth while best friends with the person in first. She has a cat that she loves and coffee flows in her veins even though she's more of a tea person. She loves the boost it gives her. She never gives up in the face of danger because she knows that giving up means we lose. She won't die because she hates losing."

You wanted to speak, but your voice wasn't working. You didn't even have the energy to open your mouth. So all you did was gently tap his hand with your index finger. He once again chuckled, squeezing your hand. "She'll live because she has to," he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. "Because if one of us is living, it'll be her."

The next time you were awake, Tony was holding you closely as the ship sped through space. A tiny groan left your lips as you shifted painfully, not sure what to make of this scene. Were you alive? Was this some weird afterlife?

But then you saw it, right smack dab in the middle of the large viewing window. It looked so tiny, but it was growing closer with every passing second. You smiled gently. "Home." Your voice was scratchy and hoarse from not being used for… well, you weren't certain how long had passed, really. How many days had you been drifting through space? How long had you been gone?

"Home," Tony echoed, gripping your shoulders tighter. "We made it, Y/N."

Your eyes were begging you to sleep, even though you had spent so long asleep. But you wanted to see Earth, see where you ended up. You needed this, to see who had brought you back home. You wanted to see Bucky, hold him while you cried. And what about Bobby and Penny? Did they make it?

It was about two minutes when you landed. You recognized the setting from pictures Steve had sent you years ago. It was the Avengers compound.

Fuck.

You heard footsteps behind you, and your bleary eyes watched as Nebula walked over to the control board and opened the hatch door. Your grip on Tony's arm tightened, almost scared to see these people that the two of you had been abandoned by. Maybe Pepper was there. Maybe she had survived. But if Steve was there? Could you really look him in the eye?

The first to come on board was Rhodey, and he went to Tony right away. "Hey, good to see you. Same to you, Agent."

Tony's grip around you loosened as he tried to stand up. "She needs help. She was stabbed on Titan and I… I can't carry her myself."

The two of them worked together to get you up on your feet, and your body was screaming at you to stop. To just lay down and stay down. Your face contorted in pain as you took your first step before collapsing to your knees, the only thing keeping you from eating ass being Tony and Rhodey.

"Shit, shit, okay." Rhodey helped lower you back to the ground before wrapping an arm around Tony's waist. "Stay awake and I'll be back with help. Uhh… can you stay with her?" He glanced towards Nebula, not sure of who she was or why the hell she was there.

"I will. They both need immediate medical attention, so hurry." Her voice was about as monotonous as always, but her posture was tense. She looked ready to fight if needed, and she would fight if the two of you didn't get the help you needed.

Rhodey nodded and then he disappeared off the ship. As soon as he was gone, another person had ran on board, and it was probably the last person you wanted to see right now.

"Y/N," he was breathless, completely frazzled. "You survived. I-"

Steve reached out to grab you but you managed to push yourself away from him. A look of pain filled his face as he stopped moving instantly. "Stay away." The sound of your own voice made you flinch, but it was nothing compared to the flinch your words had caused Steve. "You… left me… abandoned me. For months… I was alone!" Raising your voice at the end actually hurt you, making you whimper as a tired hand grabbed your throat, trying to rub away to the pain only to make it worse. "Stay… away."

"Steve," said the calming voice of Natasha, walking in from behind him. Her hand touched his shoulder, pulling him back. "Go. Rhodey and I have her."

He looked ready to argue, ready to yell and scream and even cry. And yeah, okay, you had seen him cry loads of times in the past. As much as he never let his Avengers buddies see him cry, he cried a lot. He cried while watching The Notebook of all movies. The most cliche movie to cry over. But never in front of his friends.

And he absolutely was about to break down right now.

But he listened to Nat, turning on his heels and immediately leaving the ship. You watched him go, fighting tears of your own. You blinked furiously, which definitely wasn't helping with the tiredness that was tugging on your mind, trying to lull you back to sleep. But you couldn't fall asleep! Not now! Not ever! You were so tired of being asleep.

Nat and Rhodey managed to shift your body enough between the two of them, practically dragging you out of the spaceship and down the boarding ramp. Your head was so heavy, but you couldn't sleep, not now… not when you were so close…

But then you were out, no longer able to fight that painful tugging at the back of your eyes.

There wasn't a full sit down with you and Tony until you were able to fully talk without hurting yourself and could stay awake for longer than 10 minutes at a time. So the two of you were sitting at one end of a table while the others just drilled you for information about what you went through, where Thanos was going, and did you know?

Tony was quick to anger, clearly annoyed with everyone. "What, do you think he gave us coordinates to his retirement home? Really? Do you want to know what he left us with? One hell of an asskicking and about 5 dusted people on a desolate planet eons away from home."

"And the funny thing is," he added, standing up from his wheelchair, "is that we saw this coming. I wanted a suit of armour around the world and that backfired. You all chided me for wanting to protect the Earth with that suit of arm. When I said we'd lose, you said we'd do that together. Well guess what? We lost. And Y/N and I were alone while you were off trotting the globe. It would have been one thing if circumstances were different, but you really want to play the victim when you abandoned your own girlfriend because she was worried about an oncoming battle, Rogers?"

"Tony," you said, voice quiet as you grabbed his hand. "Please sit down before you pass out." You refused to look over to Steve, knowing you would see his kicked puppy eyes. You weren't sure you could handle it right now.

Tony sighed before sitting back down, trying to calm down. You glanced around the table, pausing before you could look in Steve's direction. "We don't have any information. If you don't need me for anything else, then I want to go home to my cat." You put an extra emphasis on the word my, standing your ground on the issue of Bucky. "I want to leave, and I'm sure Tony and Pepper do, too. I'm done with this, with saving the world. Tony was right, even if he was a little angry. We lost and we didn't do it together. I'm not in the mood to lose again, especially not with any of you."

Your voice was unusually calm, hanging in the air as your words settled. Many of them looked guilty or pained, knowing that the stupid boyband split that everyone went through caused wounds that would never heal. The silence made sides very clear. You and Tony were on your own with giving up, moving on while you still could and picking up the pieces of what was left of the world and do the best job of fixing it up.

So, you left a week later with Pepper and Tony, making a stop at your apartment to try and clean it up and see the damages. You hoped Bucky was still alive and that, hopefully, Bobby and Penny had made it out alive.

You stood outside the door to your apartment, scared to see just what would be waiting for you on the other side of the door. Tony placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, a silent way of telling you that you could do this. And you knew you could. But that didn't mean you necessarily wanted to.

Still you did. You opened the door and looked around your apartment and, well, it looked a lot messier than you remembered. There were books and crayons everywhere, along with abandoned food wrappers and dirty plates. "What the-?"

"Y/N!"

Before you knew it, the tiny arms of your 6-year-old neighbor wrapped around your hips, holding you tightly as she started crying. You were in shock, your mind not processing everything that was happening around you. Penny was here, but what about Bobby? And Bucky?

"Hey, hey, hey…" You unwound her arms from around your waist, kneeling in front of her. "Penny, what happened? Where's your dad, and Bucky?"

She sniffled, rubbing at very red eyes. "Daddy disappeared," she mumbled, her voice wavering. "H-He was making food and then he just… disappeared."

You pulled her into a tight hug as you glanced over your shoulder at Tony. He looked tired once more, but he nodded to you, understanding that you needed him right now to talk to Penny. You needed to see the damages for yourself, see just what state everything was in.

"Hey kid," Tony said, and you let go of Penny so she could look at him. "My dad… he's gone, too. He wasn't really ever there, but… come on, let Miss Y/N see to the apartment and you and I can go find a treat."

She nodded, rubbing at her eyes as she followed him, grabbing his outstretched hand. You gave them a sad smile, watching them disappear down the hall before getting to your feet. Walking around the apartment reminded you of all the ghosts that were in this one apartment. All of the memories, all of the pain and heartache. It all was contained in this one apartment.

"Bucky?" you called out, voice uneven, fearing the worst. "Bucky, are you here?"

Silence followed you as you carefully tread through the warzone that had become of your living room. Your footsteps fell silent as you reached the hallway carpet that was filled with clothes and trinkets from both your room and Steves. A few of his shirts were strewn about, and several of your nicer dresses were added in the mix. But both doors were closed. You hoped that behind one of them, Bucky would be curled up, fast asleep. But you just didn't know, and it scared you.

It was a 50/50 guess of which room to check, and you really didn't want to go through Steve's stuff right now. Taking a deep breath, you opened your door, hoping that maybe Penny had been sleeping in there and that Bucky had been sleeping with her.

But it was empty, the exact same as when you had left it. Which was odd. Why had Penny chosen Steve's room to sleep in? Whenever she would come over while visiting with Bobby, Steve's room was always off limits. Well, it didn't matter anyway. Bucky definitely was NOT in your room.

You took a deep breath before turning on your heels and staring at Steve's room. You could do this. You could open a door. This was for Bucky, the one thing that was continuous through your life. He was always there, by your side. He was your everything.

Then why in the hell were you so scared?

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed the doorknob, relenting to this fate. You had to go in and get your cat. Just go in, grab your cat, and leave.

You turned the knob and, sure enough, the sheets were everywhere, and so were his clothes. Sure enough, Bucky was curled up on his pillow amongst a pile of Steve's things. "Bucky," you said, breathing a sigh of relief. He raised his head, chirping at you. Tears came to your eyes as you walked over, picking him up. His little arms stretched up into the air as he used your shoulder to try a stretch. You held onto him tightly, never wanting to let go. "I've missed you so much, buddy. Come on, let's pack some stuff and get out of here."

--5 Years Later--

You were busying yourself in the kitchen, making breakfast for Penny because you knew she would be up in an hour. This had become routine. While morning coffee was brewing, you made food, typically chocolate chip pancakes and sliced fruit, for Penny. Afterwards, you would take her over to Tony's and use his extensive library to handle her schooling needs from home. You liked being able to keep an eye on her, and Bucky enjoyed the time alone to bask in the sun.

The past 5 years had been interesting, to say the least. You and Tony had really grown into the brother-sister relationship. The two of you discovered that your Aunt and Uncle had taken him in when his dad died, though you couldn't really remember. You did assume it was because you were all of 5 or 6 when Tony stayed with you, but it was interesting none the less that he referred to Peggy and Daniel as his Aunt and Uncle, too.

Nothing necessarily felt different on this specific morning, but the house was even quieter than usual. You tried to shrug it off. Bucky was probably still asleep with Penny. Then again, the times you had woken up scared that they had disappeared overnight was a feeling you just couldn't shake. Time never helped. And you were definitely feeling it at that moment.

"Mom!" Penny yelled, running down the stairs. Normally, hearing her call you mom would bring a little joy to your heart. It was a fairly new habit, but one day you were suddenly mom, and it made your heart stop every time. But this was different. Pain was etched in her voice, and there were tears in her eyes. You knew, at that moment just what was wrong. Your heart was breaking already at the thought.

And so you picked up the phone, calling the first number that you now knew by heart. When they picked up, you were hugging Penny into your side, calmly brushing her hair to try and calm her tears. "Tony, it happened."

There was a pause on the other end, as your words settled in the air. "Right, I'll be there soon. Let me tell Morgan and we'll drive over after breakfast."

--Tony's POV--

Morgan was very distraught to hear the news, but it was necessary for her to be able to grieve at home before they made the drive to your home.

Once she finished breakfast, they got dressed in their black clothes. Tony helped her zip up her dress and held her hand as they walked out the door. He squeezed her hand, trying to reassure her that everything would be okay soon. "Don't worry, Madame Secretary, there won't be any school today. I'm sure Auntie Y/N won't mind."

She nodded as they walked out the door. Tony gave her a smile before looking up at the sound of wheels heading down the dirt road to the cabin. He first thought it was you, but he quickly recognized the car. Steve.

Great.

He sighed before looking at Morgan. He kneeled in front of her, brushing her hair out of her face. "Tell you what, you run upstairs and grab your favorite toy. Tell mommy I said it was okay. Meanwhile I'll scare away the monsters in the car." She tilted her head to the side, glancing at the car that was coming to a stop next to his car. Guessing the question on the tip of her tongue, he spoke up. "Not bad monsters. Just very grumpy. Go on, now."

And so she ran back inside. Tony got back on his feet, looking towards the car as Steve, Nat, and Tic Tac got out. "Going somewhere?" Steve asked, leaning against the driver side door.

"Yeah, a funeral. Maybe you would know who they were. I would invite you except Y/N really doesn't want to see you, and I imagine even less now." Tony unlocked his car, sitting on the hood. "So if you're just here for her address like the other thousand visits before today, I can't help you. By the way, wasn't Tic Tac missing?"

Steve sighed before slamming the car door shut. "He's why we're here. We think we can reverse the snap. Listen- wait. You said funeral? Who- is she okay?" He looked even more on edge now, ready to jump back in the car and search the entire world for you if he could.

"Yes. Funeral. Bucky passed away this morning. Morgan and Penny loved that damned cat and he... He'd been sick these past few months." Tony sighed, his head leaning down a little. "She doesn't want you there, so don't ask again, Rogers. Frankly I'm tired of seeing you, too. And I'm done saving the world. I have my own world to take care of, and that includes my family. That isn't just Pepper and Morgan, you know."

He watched as there was a flash of jealousy in Steve's eyes, and it almost brought a bit of joy to him. As tiring as this back and forth was, and as much as he wanted it to just stop, he knew Steve never looked defeated despite the amount of times he had said no. But he truly looked upset, and that was almost worth the trouble of dealing with Steve.

"Daddy!" They both turned to look at Morgan as she ran down the dirt pathway to them. "Mommy said to come save you," she said, trying her best to climb onto his lap. He smiled, picking her up and holding her in his arms.

"Well now I'm saved," he said, kissing the side of her head. He looked at Steve, shrugging his shoulders at him. "We have to go, Captain. Don't follow us. I don't know about you but crashing a funeral is taboo. Wouldn't want to upset Y/N, would we?"

Steve looked physically pained, as if making about 20 different debates in his head. He gave a look to Nat and they nodded. Some understanding was reached between the two of them. "Fine, but we're going to stay around until after the funeral. We need to talk, Tony. This is important."

"Fine. We'll talk, but that doesn't mean I'll listen." With that, he carried Morgan to the backseat of the car, buckling her up with her favorite bunny cradled in her arms. He kissed the top of her head before going to the front seat and getting behind the wheel. As he drove away, he saw the three of them getting into the car in his rearview mirror. He sighed, shaking his head. "I guess he doesn't care."

"What was that?" Morgan piped up from the backseat, hugging her bunny.

"Hmm? Nothing. Just commenting on some of the grumpy monsters we just met."

--Y/N's POV--

Tony was waiting outside with Penny and Morgan hidden away under a black umbrella, hiding from the blaring sun that was shining overhead. An arm was wrapped around Penny while Morgan held on tightly to his leg. And in your arms was a shoebox that Penny had helped you paint black. It felt unnaturally heavy, a burden sitting on your shoulders. How could this be goodbye?

You walked outside, grabbing the shovel that was leaning against the front door. Penny and Morgan were silently crying as the four of you walked to the water's edge of the lake. You set down the box, next to the hole you had dug up earlier.

"I don't know what to say," you mumbled, turning to everyone else. "Bucky was… he was the best kitten a gal could ever ask for. He was always a listener, and a cuddler. He would always sit up with me while I made breakfast and brewed coffee. He's been by my side for 12 long years and… he was taken far too early. I'll miss you, Bucky. I wish you didn't have to go, but I know it was for the best."

You motioned for Penny to join you and, together, you lowered the box into the hole before covering it in dirt. Tony walked over, handing you an engraved stone he made in his garage while Morgan had been eating earlier. You smiled sadly at the stone before placing it on the ground at the head of the grave.

"Bye, Bucky. I hope it was a good life." You swiped away your tears, hugging Penny as she broke down crying. Meanwhile, Tony walked over, holding your hand securely in his own.

"You know," he teased, squeezing your hand, "Aunt Peggy would roll her eyes if she saw you crying over a cat. I mean, really." He snickered before pulling out his best Peggy impression. "I don't recall teaching you how to cry. Go on, get up, you'll dirty your dress sitting in the dirt like that." You both shakily laughed as you rested your head against his shoulder, keeping hold of both him and Penny.

"She'd probably blame Uncle Daniel, saying it's because my mom was his niece and, clearly, the Sousa family was filled with nothing but emotions. Dastardly little things, aren't they?" Tony chuckled before kissing the top of your head, keeping the small pile of bodies huddled by Bucky's grave covered by his umbrella.

Everyone was about to head inside after a few more minutes when a silver car pulled into the driveway. And three familiar faces walked out of the car.

"Tony-" you started, watching as they walked over.

"I told him not to follow me to the funeral," he said, trying to make excuses for the fact that Steve was now walking the short walk to where you had just buried Bucky. You had just said your goodbyes and you really, really didn't need him here.

"You talked to him?"

"Y/N," Steve said, coming to a stop a few feet away from you. "And Tony. I know you don't want to talk to me or anyone, especially since you quit being heroes. But we need to talk."

Penny glanced up at Steve, and a huge smile broke out across her face. "Steve!"

She ran across the grass, hugging him tightly. You wanted to reach out to her, to pull her away, but you knew she remembered him. She remembered the kind, gentle giant that helped her with her first learn to spell. She loved having him read stories to her. And she always asked about him whenever she could. She knew her dad was gone, but she knew that Steve was still alive. She couldn't understand why you said he wasn't coming around anymore when he was still there.

"Hey Penny. Can you and Morgan go inside?" He kneeled down, ruffling her hair with his hand. "Gotta have a chat with Y/N and Tony."

Your eyes were hardened, tears on the verge of spilling. But no. You weren't going to cry over Steve, not again. Penny looked back at your, head tilted to the side. "Mom?"

"Go inside. I'll be in there in a minute. You and Morgan can go watch TV." You couldn't look away from Steve. Your heart was racing in your chest and it just wouldn't stop. Everything hurt again. Your chest felt tight, and your legs were weak. You had missed him, but you just couldn't just forgive him.

Could you?

The two girls ran inside, leaving the 5 of you standing opposite of each other. Who would make the first move? Who would say the first word?

"So wait, Captain America has a wife and kid?"

And of course the first word would come from Scott Lang.

"If by wife you mean ex-girlfriend, and kid you mean blipped next door neighbors daughter, then yes," you said sarcastically, crossing your arms in front of your chest. "Why are you here? If it's to apologize then you're about five years too late, Steven."

He sighed, running a hand through his blond hair. "Y/N, as much as I want to apologize, explain everything, we're here to talk business. Scott, this is your idea."

And Scott did talk. And talk. And talk. He had insane theories about time travel using some kind of particles… PYM particles? It was completely insane. These ideas, time travel… it was impossible. Right?

But Scott had experienced it while trapped in… in… the quantum realm? That was apparently a real thing. Apparently the past 5 years had taken up 5 hours for him? You couldn't really believe it. It all seemed too good to be true.

"You're insane, spewing theoretical jargon as provable fact to try and bring back everyone. Scott was a fluke on the system. But you forgot something. What about all the births and relationships that have happened in those five years? Even if this was possible, which is a big if, I'd be gambling with Morgan's life. She is my world. So no, I won't play God." Tony looked over at you, raising an eyebrow in question, squeezing your hand firmly. "Y/N?"

"I said I was done, and I meant it." You looked over at Steve to see a jealousy burning in his blue eyes. "I can't lose another battle. I can't play with this family. I've already lost two of the most important things in my life. If I lose Morgan? Or Penny? Or even, god forbid Tony? No. I can't play this game of life or death. We all just… need to move on."

You tugged on Tony's hand, pulling him back to the house, ignoring the calls of your former friends, asking you to come back. You couldn't turn around because you knew that if you did, you would absolutely entertain their ideas. You knew that you would help them figure out, because an adventure was everything you always yearned for. But an adventure could take away everything you had left. Your heart couldn't take it.

It was later that night, and everyone was at Tony's place. Morgan and Penny were sleeping upstairs, and Pepper was showering. But neither you nor Tony could sleep as you worked from his dining room table, toying around with some kind of gps that would work through time, just to see if it was possible. But it was entirely impossible. And you two were certain about it.

So why were you entertaining the idea?

You weren't much help. For as much work as you had done alongside Tony and learned through osmosis, you weren't the best with this kind of stuff. But you were helping as much as possible through throwing out random information that occasionally became pertinent.

But when the prototype actually came back as 99.98% effective? Well, the two of you nearly passed out.

"Well, shit!" Tony exclaimed, leaning back in his chair.

"Shit!"

The two of you turned towards the stairs, seeing a smug smile sitting on Morgan's face. Her body swayed from side to side as she smiled, her bunny slippers pattering up and down in place.

"No!" The two of you said in unison at her, causing her face to scrunch up.

"You can't say that word," you said, wagging a finger at her.

Tony nodded, looking at Morgan with a stern face. "Only mommy can say that word. She coined it, so she owns it." He gave you a wink before looking back at Morgan. You rolled your eyes, a gentle smile sitting on your face. He was such a good dad.

"Well what are you two doing?" she pondered, looking at the prototype model displayed in the air.

"Obviously some important shit!" you said before realizing just what you said. Tony facepalmed and you sighed. "Did your dad say mom? He meant your mom and I. We coined it. Together… Any way, come on Morgoona, let's go have a freezie pop and then it's off to bed for you." You walked to the kitchen with her, grabbing two freeze pops and handing one to her.

Once Morgan was back in bed, you looked at Tony, neither one of you sure what to do with this discovery. Yes, you could bring back so many lives, but you couldn't bargain with Morgan. She was family, Tony's everything. Pepper came down the stairs just then, and she instantly knew something was up. She didn't ask any questions and, instead, went to the dining room table, pulling up Tony's latest document.

"So you figured it out," she remarked, going over the design. You knew she didn't understand the science fully, you barely did. "Time travel, I mean. You know, I think you both should do it. You hung up the cape but you'll never rest easy knowing you could do something but didn't." She glanced over at the two of you, a sad smile on her face. "You should do it. Help them. Under any other circumstance, you would drop everything to do this."

You looked over at Tony and you both knew she was right. You couldn't give up, personal vendettas aside. There was no giving up when you had gotten this far.

And so you weren't going to give up. That next morning, you packed up Tony's car and told Penny that she was going to be staying with Pepper until you came back. You also gave her your phone. If her dad called, you wanted the first voice he heard to be Penny's. They deserved that much.

When you pulled up to the compound, Steve was standing outside. He looked defeated. But when you walked out, holding his shield, his eyes looked hopeful, like things were going to change. And they were.

"We're in. This is yours, by the way." You handed him the shield, immediately stepping away. "Morgan and Penny tried to take it bobsledding, so we had to remove temptation."

"Plus we figured it out. Time travel." Tony handed him the prototype. "A GPS that works through the quantum realm. Should prevent any babies from coming back and going to the bathroom in the suit."

Steve nodded, pulling the both of you into a hug. "Thank you," he said, breathless, holding you both tightly. "Thank you for coming back."

You cautiously wrapped an arm around him, holding him and being washed over in a feeling of nostalgia. You could feel your heart lightening, even if just a little bit. Those 5 years of pain and heartache were slowly melting away as you just stood there, surrounded by two of the people you loved more than anything, even if it hurt.

As you all finally pulled away from the hug, you glanced around. "So, where's the coffee machine?"

----

Next Part

Taglist: @thedaydreamingwriter​ @hollandroos​ @tomhollandd​

[daisukissed]

the better one | m.osamu

❧ pairing: miya osamu x gn!reader, slight miya atsumu x reader

❧ synopsis:

miya osamu was never the one to compare himself to his twin brother. he doesn't care if his brother gets more attention, is better at volleyball or is preferred over himself but as he watches you with your arms slung against atsumu's shoulders, mouth kissing him passionately like he's some sort of drug, he wishes this once, just this once, that he could be the better one.

❧ genre: angst, mild fluff

❧ warnings: none

❧ word count: 3.7k

Ding dong.

The door bell chimes through the secured walls of the Miya household, alerting everyone present in the vicinity.

Or just one, Miya Osamu.

The tall athlete stops at whatever he was doing, turning to wash his dirty hands instead in response to the door bell, feeling the cold water run against his skin.

Ding dong.

Another ring sounds off and the boy reacts quicker. He dries his hands off with his clothes, rushing his way to the front door. Twisting the metal doorknob, the wooden door opens it's way to the outside world.

You jump at the sight of the gray haired boy, a dark blue apron cladding his muscular build. It somehow suits him, you think.

"Um, is Atsumu here?"

The high school male observes your demeanor, recognizing you as his twin brother's girlfriend. He remembers Atsumu introducing you to him very briefly at school, the class bell interrupting the two of you before you could add anything else other than your name. He didn't really have the time to garner an opinion on you due to that.

Finally taking a good look at your face, he realizes that you're an exact image of his brother's type. It's no wonder how you managed to capture the condescending blonde's heart.

"Tsumu's buying groceries right now, he'll be back soon. Come on in." Osamu recalls, his muscular back already turned back into the house.

You follow his footsteps, taking in the nooks and crannies of the room. The softwood wall matches perfectly with the white ceramic floor, the furnitures within the area complimenting the both of them as well. It isn't the most lavish house nor the most special one but it's certainly the coziest one you've been to.

Taking a seat on the white couch in the living room, your eyes lock on the high school boy a few meters beside you, occupying himself in the kitchen where you can see the countless utensils lying around, a few rice grains sticking here and there.

"Ah! Are those the new samples you're working on?"

Osamu stiffens slightly at your sudden question, turning his head to face the numerous rice balls you were talking about.

"Yeah, I guess you heard from Tsumu?"

Giving him a sheepish smile and a slight nod from your head, you continue on your conversation with the light haired male.

"That's right..." You stop, contemplating whether or not you should say the next few words.

"He wasn't quiet happy with your decision, after all."

Osamu can't help but scoff lightly as a corner of his mouth twitches up in disdain, the glass plate that he was previously washing completely ignored, water gliding down the surface and to the drain.

"Sure he wasn't. Nobody was."

Osamu hates the fact that he could feel his own chest tightening, his words littered with a hint of stubbornness and... hurt?

Hurt. That's what he felt when his brother ridiculed his decision, when his parents gave him doubtful looks about his plans, when even his fangirls begged him to keep doing volleyball. It was as if the whole world was against him pursuing his passionー

"Well, I personally think that you made a great choice."

The whole world except you.

"Oi Tsumu, give these a taste!"

The young boy yells from a distance, making his way to the room beside his, a plate of filling rice balls in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

He doesn't know what changed or how it happened but his twin have been unusually supportive of his passion as of late, agreeing to support and help however he can.

Not taking any of his rare kindness for granted, Osamu constantly feeds his brother unhealthy amount of rice balls each day, asking for his thoughts and opinions.

Today was no exception.

Pushing the door handle with his elbow, he opens the door with a push of his body, careful not to spill the water nor the food he's holding.

Grey eyes immediately widens slightly as they are met with an unexpected visitor, their legs tangled up with another's as they try to wriggle their way out of the other boy's grasp.

Your cheerful laughter cuts short as you notice the young male in front of you. Putting the tickle war that happened just moments before to a stop, you give Atsumu who is hovering you a push, causing him to notice the said man as well.

"Sorry for disturbing, I'll-"

"Don't fret it, are those for us?" You give out a kind smile, waving your hands to shake off the boy's apology.

Osamu nods his head in uncertainty, eyes glancing towards his brother only to see a displeased look befalling him, probably from the disturbance of he and his girlfriend's time together. An uncomfortable feeling settle into his chest, making him regret his decision of barging into the room even more.

"I'm not eating any, I've been eating those for three days straight now."

Standing up from the sturdy bed you've been sitting on, you take the ball of rice made by the boy, one for yourself and one for your sulking boyfriend.

"Now, now, one more can't hurt." You say cheerfully, practically shoving the dish to the boy's face. Atsumu frowns to which you reply with what looks like an innocent smile, prompting the blonde to sigh in defeat and snatch the rice ball from your hand.

Seeing him take a huge bite of the triangular rice, you smirk smugly before giving yourself a mouthful bite as well.

Osamu stands still awkwardly as he watches the two of you dive into the meal, observing any slight change in expression on your face.

"This is the best you've made so far." Atsumu states, taking more and more bites despite his earlier reluctance.

You bob your head in agreement, eyes widening in shock at how well all the flavors mesh together.

"Itsch rweally gud!" You try to exclaim, words slightly muffled due to the amount of food occupying your mouth.

The small amount of nervousness in his body disappears completely when he's met with nothing but positive remarks, pride slowly welling up in exchange.

Seeing the elated look and chubby cheeks from your face, Osamu can't help but feel his own mouth curling into a soft smile.

You find yourself visiting the two siblings much more often now.

What used to be just the two of you became three, Osamu appearing more and more frequently in between the dates you and your boyfriend shared.

Silent movie nights turns into popcorn fights and unprofessional reviews, dinner with takeouts into massive taste tests of various riceballs.

It's a change that you nor Atsumu minds, honestly. He's glad that he could spend his time with two of his most favourite people while you're just happy to gain a new friend.

Ringing the melodious doorbell you've heard more and more of lately, you patiently wait for the recipient from the other side, swinging your feet back and forth as you stare at the white painted door.

It only takes a couple of seconds before a tall figure came to view, thick eyebrows lowered into a quizzical frown.

Osamu was for sure not expecting you to be at the front of his doorsteps when he opened the door, smiling at him innocently like you're supposed to be here.

It would've been okay if things were under different conditions.

If his twin, Miya Atsumu was actually home. Did you not know? Did he not tell you? He really couldn't believe that his brother would leave you without informing you about the youth camp. Just how ignorant could he be?

"Tsumu's not home."

"I know that?" You give him a matter-of-fact look, tilting your head in confusion.

More questions fill the boy's mind as he wonders about the reason of your visit. You never really came unless you were accompanied by your boyfriend so what was your point in coming when he's away? It couldn't be for his parents, you and Tsumu weren't at that level yet and of course, it couldn't be for him, you guys never really talked unless it was with the presence of his brother (much to his disappoinment). The two of you settle with friendly smiles and subtle waves instead whenever you passed by each other at school.

Choosing to squeeze pass the still boy instead of waiting for him to let you in, you invite yourself into the spacious house, the white walls you've grown familiar with welcoming you warmly.

"Can a person not spend time with a dear friend without their boyfriend?" You ask rhetorically, turning back to give your gray haired buddy an enticing smile as you raise the bag of store-bought rice balls in your hand.

If Osamu had known that letting you in that day would result to the constant pain eating at his chest, aching at every sight of you, he would've prevented you at all cost.

The unspoken boundary between you and Osamu was crossed the moment you spent your entire day in the boy's presence. The two of you were no longer threading the thin line between friendly gestures and close actions, already passing beyond that awkward phase.

Within the few days that the blonde was away, you and Osamu had already shared numerous inside jokes (none of them explained to Atsumu for entertainment purposes), countless shitty rom-coms (you complained about his tastes, to which he argued that you just don't understand the art behind itー as if there were any in overused clichés and sappy kisses) and of course, you couldn't forget the various spontaneous outings (the competitive arcade games, the midnight car rides, the trashy cooking competitions)

His days were slowly filled with you, providing him with a giddy and blissful feeling that he hadn't felt in so long. Even when his twin brother had finally arrived home, the two of you continued to spend your time together, no matter if the yellow-haired was present or absent.

It almost made him forget that you already have your heart set on his brother. Almost.

"Oh, so ya can't make it?"

"Yeah, Tsumu just invited me out. I'm really sorry. I'll make it up to you next time, promise!"

Ahー of course, relationships come first after all. It's no surprise that you would choose to spend your time with your boyfriend in preference to your best friend. Anybody would do the same.

"Hm, sure. Have fun." Osamu mumbles, not being able to prevent a twinge of his bitterness seep out from his words as he ends the call, the monotonous beep being the last thing he hears.

Turning back from where he was heading to, the silver haired male walks down the lone and empty street back home, only the sound of faraway children accompanying his journey.

He feels like shit. Like there's someone kicking dirt into his heart, staining it with this ominous emotion that he wishes he could scrub off. It doesn't help the fact that the sun's setting down either, bringing down the mood even more as it bids goodbye to the land it shone for, the once warmly lit place diminishing into a gloomy abyss.

He shouldn't feel so disturbed. So irked, so agitated, so upset. That would just prove the insatiable feeling buried deep inside his chest, hiding in denial all this time. The feeling that eats away his skin, leaving him bare with nothing but his pride and ego to defend with. The so-called feeling named jealousy.

And Osamu is a person with dignity before a person that is jealous.

There is no way that he harbors any sort of feelings towards you that are more than platonic, that his heart skips a beat whenever you scoot closer and soars at the sound of your mellifluous laugh, or that he finds himself thinking of you in every corner of his house, like the spot you always sit on the living room couch and the kitchen mug you always favor more than others. He isn't supposed to find solace in the way you ramble non-stop about another series you've grown fond of, feeling himself relax at the soft lull of your voice, neither is he supposed to feel an evergrowing tenderness in his being at the sight of your face, always beaming in contentment, eyes so bright that it brings shame to the sun, like there's nothing wrong in this ruinous world. He can't.

Not when his brother is head over heels for you.

You've been spending less and less time with Osamu these past few days. He's always either holed up in his room, the kitchen or even worse, not even in the house at all, using the same repeated excuses that you've heard more than you could count.

"Samu's not joining again?" You inquire, plopping on the cushioned seat beside your boyfriend as he scrolls through a collection of movies displayed on the TV.

"Yeah, said he was goin' to study or something." Answered the blonde, his muscular build shuffling closer to you and a lean arm making its way around your shoulders.

"Study?" That's not right. Osamu would rather take a scooter to an ankle than actually study.

"I know, I was surprised too." The athlete responds in a tone of agreement. His fingers pause upon a poster of what seems to be a grotesque movie, the image of a bloody mask staring at you menacingly. Shifting his line of vision towards you, he asks for confirmation on his movie of choice and despite having mixed feelings about it, you agree. How could you not when he's looking at you like a child begging for ice cream?

The film starts off tense, the atmosphere heavy and surroundings gloomy. Fifteen minutes in and you're already on the edge of your seat, hands gripping at the strong boy's arm in fear of a sudden jumpscare. You take a glance at your boyfriend, observing any signs of distress or terror and sure enough, there were none. You're not even surprised at this point, Atsumu's a maniac for the thrill and pumps of adrenaline provided, you're not.

Just like Osamu.

You sincerely wished that he was present in today's marathon, wanting someone to share your hatred for horror movies with. With your constant anti-horror buddy being gone, you realized the huge role he plays in your overall experience. The continuous jokes he makes whenever the character does something stupid, the collection of curses spewing from his mouth that accompanies your obnoxious scream when something horrific suddenly pops out. Despite being scared shitless himself, you never actually see him reject any of your spoiled requests. He would always run you down on what happened when you're too scared to watch, Atsumu being too focused to do it himself. His explanations were confusing and all over the place (probably due to the fact that he himself watched through the slits between his fingers) but he gets the job done. Not to mention the times you would beg him to accompany you to the restroom, trembling arms linked together as you travel down the dark corridor leading to it (the one Atsumu insists on keeping the lights off, something about maintaining the mood), leaving him all alone once you got in.

It's those little stuffs that gets you feeling extremely grateful for your collected friend and when a bright idea suddenly shots into your mind, lighting up a lightbulb over your head. You push yourself off the couch, immediately scampering towards the simple and neat kitchen, switching on the lights by the counter.

Atsumu, who got disturbed at the sudden brightness and sounds of metal clanking, pauses the motion picture in action, giving you a bemused look.

"What are you doing?" He asks, watching you prep a variety of ingredients and condiments with raised eyebrows.

"Making riceballs for Samu! His brain's probably fried by now and is in major need for sodium." You explain, scooping a hefty amount of rice into a large bowl and salting it generously after.

The tall athlete smiles defeatedly at your thoughtfulness. He was almost frustrated, honestly but he knows better than to be jealous at your kindness towards his careless sibling. Stepping into the kitchen, he turns on the faucet by the sink, roaming his hands through the rush of cold water.

"Need any help?"

Osamu lets out a frustrated groan, laying his head on the cold hard table in hopelessness, folded arms serving as a cushion to lessen the pain and discomfort. His head's aching from all the numbers and letters he forced himself to absorb, mind too tired to comprehend anything anymore.

But it's better this way, anything's better than the constant thought of you; the slightly indecent snorts mixed with the melodious ring of your laughter, the soft gaze you occasionally give out, the one where you could feel the admiration just by looking at it, your eyes brimming with nothing but warmth and love. It's a shame that none of those belongs to him and he knows that it never ever will be. You see him as nothing more than a friend, your boyfriend's brother. Osamu himself acknowledged this already, even way before the two of you got close.

That doesn't mean it hurts any less though.

He wants to stop. Stop feeling so infuriated and defeated. So desperate. So pathetic. He'd do anything to remain rational and unbothered at your presence, to not have butterflies swarming inside his stomach and flowers blooming inside his heart. He needs to. Osamu will not let a single chance in having these emotions linger any longer. He'll get rid of the venomous bud you planted so secretly yet fondly, erasing it before it blooms into something more acidic; something that will burn through his skin, leaving him vulnerable with nothing but leftover bones.

And what better way to do that than avoidance?

It started off small, like cancelling your usual plans with him, making up blatant excuses to cover up his antics. Then, it was not joining you and Atsumu's table at lunch, choosing other group of friends to eat with. Finally, he stopped seeing you altogether, avoiding any sort of situations or places that could potentially harbor your presence. He was doing so well. Oh, so well.

Until a knock sounded off from his door, intruding his fatigued thoughts.

Until your figure came in moments later, bringing with you a savory and sweet smell, overfilling the room in mere seconds.

And of course, until you set the massive ball of rice on top of his table, its white grains and hot steam staring at him along with that lovable smile of yours.

You really just can't give him a break, can't you?

Snacks of all kinds and video games of different genres are splayed messily on the carpeted floor of Osamu's room.

You let a yawn escape effortlessly, bringing up a hand to cover your indecency while the other remains the hold on your black controller, taking a slight break on attacking the group of enemies in front of you before continuing to do so again.

"You really think we can finish this run by tonight?" You ask in a weary tone, hours of gameplay and shouting beginning to take effect on your body.

"Hm. Probably not." The boy to your left replies casually, hitting the pause button when he sees the look of exhaustion riding on your face, eyes softening at the sight.

You crash into the bed behind you, back leant backwards and arms stretching to its maximum height before falling down feebly. A sigh breaks free from your lips, hinting your utmost disappointment as you position your head to lay against the bed more comfortably, eyes closing when you found a good spot.

"All that work for nothing then."

The ash haired boy watches you rest in complete silence, taking in the littlest bits of details. As the blue light from the television's screen illuminates your skin perfectly, highlighting your features in his dark room, long lashes glistening like the stars adorning the night sky, he wonders, if you yourself, is a star as well.

And just like stars, you're impossible to reach.

Miya Osamu was never the one to compare himself with his twin brother. He doesn't care if his brother gets more attention or has more fans than him. Doesn't care if his brother's better at volleyball and is personally more sought out than him. Doesn't care if his brother's labelled as the better twin in general, him dulling in comparison.

But as he watched you slip your soft hand in between the other boy's calloused one, fingers intertwined and cheeks a rosy pink.

As you wrapped yourself against the boy's built body, leaning in until no space is shared between the two of you, providing a warmth that he could only imagine.

As your arms slung against Atsumu's shoulders, standing on the tip of your toes as you kiss him passionately like he's some kind of drug.

He wishes this once, just this once, that he could be the better one.

A head falls to Osamu's shoulder and he visibly stiffens a bit. Glancing sideways, the view of you in deep slumber against his body brings heat to his cheeks. He can hear his heart palpitating against his chest, the beat of it signifying his utter adoration towards your entire being.

He wants this moment to stay forever. The feeling of your cheeks pressed against his shoulder blades, the warmth radiating from your proximity, your soft snores accompanied by the sound of his running air conditioner. It was as if the two of you were the only ones left in this world, in his dimly lit room with no disturbance nor interference apart from the sound of faraway cars speeding the lonely city.

He wants it so bad.

Yet he knows that if he stays for even another second, he'll never let you go.

And he would rather go through this suffocating feeling a thousand times than to see the hurt on your face when you and Atsumu argues.

So ignoring the tightness in his chest, he picks you up in the most gentle way possible, carrying you to the athlete's room beside his and leaving with an evermore ache in his heart.

[dollydeez]

Chapter One Sneak Peek

I’m currently rewriting the ending and haven’t done final edits yet, but I thought I’d go ahead and post the first chapter of Lesbian Robots From Space to give people an idea of what I’m going for with this project. So here it is, Chapter One: Get Lost!

I spent most of my free time wandering around the space station. There wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen, but I’m well known enough in this sector that I pick up just as much business wandering around as sitting in my office. It’s a rough part of the galaxy, so it’s not uncommon for your affairs to get FUBAR. There’s four levels to the thing, going from the hangar at the gravitational bottom to the flats at the top, with a shopping centre and office section respectively in between. I don’t know why old space movies liked spherical buildings, can you imagine how annoying that’d be? Use a cube like a thinking being and maximize your available space. If my flat had a curved ceiling I’d start a riot. And having the hangar in the middle, I mean I guess for military constructions but what the fat cats want for their civilian developments is for people to have to walk through as much commercial space as possible.

My favourite part was checking out the hangar, and not just because it was a hotspot for people on the run. So many ships, from all over, docked here. Swear to god, I saw one that looked exactly like a pickle. Funniest shit I’ve ever seen. I mean, until the crew started spilling out and medics had to be called. People don’t land here because they want to check it out, they land here because they are out of options. We are the Saint Jude of scum. The regular clientele had an effect on the shops offered. Shite specific for those living here were automated, usually owned by the station. Stuff like furniture stores, clothes shops and the grocer’s. There were a couple people trying to hack out a living with their cooking, but… let’s just say if they were good they’d be elsewhere. Hell do I know, I never went into any of those disease factories. Most of the other shops sold guns, parts and medical supplies. It wasn’t the worst place in the world to poke around, it was always entertaining to see some lost yokel argue with someone, who’s surrounded by guns mind you, seemingly unaware that this is absolutely the place your annoying corpse would be chucked into space. I was good friends with Doc, the lad who ran the station’s main medical bay. He was a good kid, just made some mistakes early on and had to move his practice off world. Well, he wasn’t bad. Every so often he’d get bored doing his work. You’d know when to keep your issues to yourself when you saw some poor bastard limping around the food court with the wrong number of limbs, or the right number but on the wrong side. He usually stayed up in his office, however, across from mine. We were friendly enough, and he told his staff to let me wander around the wards.

The limited number of staff made this an absolutely desperate place to seek medical attention. If you weren’t of the species represented in the OR, you might have to cling to life as some doofus flips through a book trying to figure out what the hell you are. So, why not have a little conversation? I’d swoop in, say something about how they seemed to be in some heap of trouble, and most of the time I’d get a job. Money up front of course, and if they argued this point I’d make sure they were clear on how friendly I was with the medic bay. This tactic meant that sometimes they’d take my card and never be heard from again. Which is fine, credits spend the same, but it doesn’t do much for word of mouth. I knew I’d hit the jackpot when someone, gushing blood, would look up with wide eyes and ask if I was Lisa Dean. Why yes, and your price just doubled. Hey, if they know my track record I can put it up front rather than racking up bullshit expenses. If they argue about the rate their buddy got, I’d tell them that if I wasn’t worth it I wouldn’t get recommended. Here I hand them my card, because if they’re bleeding there’s someone who caused that blood and they can get looked for somewhere else. But if they approach me as I’m wandering the rest of the station, I’d invite them up to my office.

I’m still proud of how well I fixed up the place; when I moved in it was little more than a ratty little hole in the wall, wallpaper peeling, lightbulb flickering, dark and damp, reeking of mold, somehow there was a leak from the flats upstairs despite the fact this is a space station and, well, that feels concerning. But I’d moved in with plenty of disposable income and plenty of time, so I made use of the automated stores down stairs. I thought it’d be neat to get some wood inside there, so there was a jarring feeling when you walk in from the outside. Most of the station is boring polished steel, blinking lights, then you enter my office and it’s wood. Getting books for the shelf was a pain, it’s the one thing the station doesn’t sell, so for a while I looked like a real cunt with plenty of shelf space and a handful of books. People would ask about it, which was annoying but, alright, it was a compounding factor on how shady it all seemed, and I’d tell them I’d lost most of my books in the move and was waiting for them to arrive. Which was true enough, at least enough to shut them up about it. But they’d sit across from my desk and tell me the details of their woes, then I’d tell them how I’d solve it for them. It was a pretty good system. Sometimes, I’d have to get them back into the office to go over some details or expenses. I started out my practice letting the expenses slide in exchange for a favour, which people are usually grateful enough to accept, so at this point it was generally understood that you should pay your expenses when I tell you to. When I wanted to get out of the flat but didn’t want to wander around the station, I’d hang out in my office. People coming in at these times were the most annoying, because usually if I don’t want to do a job I can get out of it easily. In the medbay, they’re dying so they’re not in the position to chase after me. Elsewhere, I can either pretend they’ve got the wrong person or give some extravagant price that they won’t concede to. Every so often, I got roped into a job I don’t want to do and I resent it. I even resent it when people come into my office uninvited and put me in the awkward position of turning them away. Usually if I’m upfront about how I find their case boring or trivial, they’ll get all offended and leave. Some require more pushing.

The day began normally. I got up, got ready, and headed out into the world. I didn’t have much going on, and was on the edge of liking it that way. The station was pretty dead for once, with the usually chaotic and filled hangar being nearly empty. I think the only ships there might have belonged to the few residents that owned one. I felt sorry, and still do, for the poor fuckers stuck on that hellhole. Usually what happened was that someone, not knowing better, would land from a nearby planet with little more than a dream and an idea of the cheap real estate. Then they’d chop their ship at one of the shops upstairs, grab a place and a store front, and slowly regret their decision. It was cheap real estate, almost offensively so, but that was because no one in their right mind would show up unless under duress. Sure, Doc might get a poor family that’d gained just enough capital to get up there for his skills, but with orderlies mostly running the OR they usually were disappointed. Then they’d have a “well, we’re here, sad and hungry” meal from one of the subpar restaurants before heading back to their planet. So those who sold their way off to settle here were more or less stuck in relative poverty. Don’t get me wrong, I’d be happy if a legitimately talented chef or whatever risked everything to set up shop here and succeeded their way back off, but I’ve never seen it happen. Even when someone has been somewhat of a draw, it was never enough to get a ship and enough money to set up somewhere nicer. The only one I’ve seen get close is Synthia Gray, who garnered good reviews and quite a few people going out of their way to try her food. But the area’s too dangerous for anyone who could have a real impact, or the masses that might do the same, to come by. I just remember them packing up all her stuff one day, saying it’d been auctioned off. Turns out she decided to try her luck leaving the station, only without a ship or a suit. Sweet girl, I was always sorry it happened to her, but it was inevitable as soon as she stepped foot here. People don’t leave, not when they’re attached to it financially.

My theory is that the owners rig the price just so in order to attract desperate people. Those people pay rent, usually two forms of rent, while buying all their goods from the company and paying “taxes” on all the money they make. It’s an absolute racket, designed to keep this sorry excuse of a space station staffed enough to keep it used and profitable. Most people end up going into debt after settling. If the company had a heart, they’d offer some sort of way off when people go broke, but instead they allow people to run up the score. It’s indentured servitude to make the station seem full and welcoming to anyone willing to put money into a bad investment.

In any case, I was one of the few fortunate enough to have a ship still in the hangar. Which was good news for both me and the station itself, as I needed it to work. Can’t quite look into things if I’m stuck on a hunk of metal orbiting aimlessly around some nothing gas giant. I like to keep it tuned up, making sure it’s ready to go at a moment’s notice and taking it for a short spin every so often to make sure it can, in fact, work. I love my ship, but I feel like other people feel that on an entirely different level. It’s a reliable and necessary tool, but I don’t see much need in worrying about it being clean or looking nice or whatever. I’ll get a Wash Me on the window if I haven’t taken it out in too long, but I’ll just scrub it off. As long as it gets me from point A to point B I’m happy with it. After I gave it a good look over, because what the fuck else was I going to do, I headed up to the shopping area to wander around for a little bit. It was boring. Even Doc’s was mostly empty, with the one person being looked after having cut himself deeply out of sheer clumsiness. I wasn’t quite ready to go back to the flat, I wanted to keep it a space I felt good in, so I headed back to my office. And there was someone waiting for me. I did not like this, and I’m still not super happy about it.

She was sat in my office chair, usually reserved for active clients, and dressed in all black. Even when I walked in, she continued boohooing into her snot rag, you know how these mucus gremlins are, with loud and halting cries. I could see flakes of red hair poking out of her garish black hat, complete with a little veil in front of her face. I cleared my throat and she finally turned around.

“Are you Lisa Dean?”

“That’s what it says on the door.”

I made my way to my desk, and she looked up at me from her hunched posture with wet eyes. I had to awkwardly shimmy between the close wall and my desk, an act I don’t like doing in front of people who might be deciding to pay me, before sitting down. She could hardly put words together and babbled incoherently.

“I’m guessing someone’s dead?”

Mistake. This set her off with a loud wail and I had to wait it out. I flipped through an old magazine on my desk and cursed myself for not picking up a newspaper. Apparently those skis were still available with an exclusive discount. Eventually her sobs started to stabilize and it seemed as though she were about to speak, so I tilted the magazine down.

“My wife… she’s gone!”

This had my attention. A lover, possibly murdered, possibly missing, but either way a mystery? Grand, sounds to be quite the adventure.

“So, in your words, what’s happened?”

She sniffled a bit, then took a few deep breaths to collect herself.

“I woke up one day and she was gone, with a note left saying she’d left and her ship was gone. But I know she would have never done something like that!”

“I’m not saying I won’t take the case, but given the evidence she just left don’t you think this getup is a bit much?”

“She would never! She would never do such a thing, the possibility wouldn’t even be in her programming it’s so antithetical-”

“Whoa, stop right there. Her programming?”

“She was a robot, but what we had was so real.”

“Buy another.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your bot babe was defective. Buy. Another.”

I brought the magazine back up to my face and let her spit and sputter. She seemed the type to have always gotten her way, daddy’s favourite, and I’ll be honest I took some joy in saying no. She composed herself and stood, placing a calling card on my desk.

“Regardless, I’ve heard you’re the best. If you change your mind, please give me a call.”

“Mkay.”

She kept standing there, looming over me, until I placed the square into my desk drawer. Who even does that? A square card? Where is that meant to go? A purse I suppose, so I’ll respect the specificity of use, but if she was married it was an oversight to not update it for easier storage. That said, I’m probably over analysing it and should concentrate on telling the story. That’s what’s important, the story, not any of these bullshit details. In all honesty, I might just be bored and pointing out shite like this for the drama. In any case, she took her leave and I went back to reading my magazine. Halfway into an article on exercise routines, for whatever reason, I put it down to go buy a paper because if I had to keep reading this sports magazine I’d punch a hole in the station wall.

I was sitting in the local saloon, watching Doc get absolutely hammered. From that and the blood drenching his coat, you’d assume he’d had a rough day and was having to work through some heavy shite. You would be wrong. Not to suggest he is drenched in blood on a daily basis, although it isn’t an unusual occurrence, but he did enjoy drinking until he had to be carried back upstairs. It was a bad idea to say it, or even imply it, but there was a common understanding that this habit most likely landed him on the station. It was generally accepted that you do not want to piss off the person who has a say in you getting patched up, and if you’re going to be doing something especially dangerous, do it early to be on the safe side. So he’s leaning on the bar, gripping his beer as if it was about to float away, and grimacing. The poor busboy was holding his mop by the tip of the handle to mop up the pool of blood slowly forming underneath Doc’s stool and holding his breath in an effort not to be noticed. I wouldn’t call Doc a mean drunk, as that would imply he was different the rest of the time. Bless him, he was a bastard but wholly honest about it. I leaned forward as he started mumbling, the reek of beer and whisky pouring from his mouth more freely than from the taps, just in case he was trying to talk to me. He bolted upright and grabbed me by the lapel, pulling me close and forcing eye contact.

“No one here today! Only the cunts showed! Cunts, all of them, screaming and bleeding and all but pissing themselves, whining for their mammies!”

He slumped back against the bar and placed his face into his arms, and Frankie, our bartender, looked over to me. I nodded, resenting the fact I’d need a wash after taking him to his place. He turned his head, ear now pressed firmly against the bar and seemed like he was looking for a response.

“Yeah, Doc, absolutely awful. Only job offer I got was to locate a missing bot, wasn’t about to take a salvage job.”

He pushed himself up, working his way into a maniacal laugh, and I had to put a hand on his back to keep him from going arse over teakettle.

“What’s her name?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I have her card upstairs, she wouldn’t leave until I took it.”

“She fit?”

“Not your type, I don’t think.”

“Certainly ways to change that. ‘Not my type’, feh! Insult my skills.”

Knocking my arm away, he took another swig of beer and lied back down on the counter. He should have been cut off hours ago, but Frankie was in the odd position of having to poison the man who might save her life, or he might not out of spite. Well, if you were lucky he’d leave it at that. Most of the time, the blood was from boredom more than altruism. If you made the mistake of causing a ruckus in his med bay, well let’s just say that being handed over to Doc to be handled personally usually was a bad sign. He did personally take care of station residents, at least the ones whose death would be inconvenient for him, but, again, that was only a good thing at the right time of day. Stubborn as a mule, if he wanted to be hands on begod no one would stop him. Which is unfortunate for everyone, including Doc. That’s how Frankie got her job, and it took him almost a year to adjust.

Luckily, Doc wouldn’t argue against the saloon closing and would allow himself to be walked home, usually with a takeaway cup in tow. As the clock struck three, I picked him up and half dragged him away from the bar. He woke up enough to start struggling, reaching toward where he had been with both arms extended.

“Drink!”

“Alright, give me a second.”

I sat him back down on his stool and leaned him on his arm so he’d stay upright. Frankie, who always waited and watched to make sure Doc left without a fuss, already had his cup ready and mouthed a thank you. When I handed him the paper cup, he took a few sips from his straw, readied himself and nodded. He could almost stand, so I had to prop him up by the armpit and lead him to the elevator.

“Real sorry situation.”

“Mhm.”

It was hard to make out the words, but regardless of what he was talking about I was not about to treat it as anything but gospel. He was slumped in the corner of the elevator, barely supporting himself on the banister. The one advantage of helping Doc home is that, despite how busy it is at this time of night, we’d get an elevator to ourselves for a quick trip home. It was a quieter trip than most nights, as he was just staring down at his cup. The ones where he was overly rowdy were definitely worse, but I enjoyed hearing him drunkenly ramble about some random topic. I don’t know if him being a doctor made it more or less weird, but he was well read on the most obscure topics. He once described, in detail, the history of the human homeworld, but with a topic like that it was equally plausible he was making up most of it. Either way was entertaining. But this, this was just sad. The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and I helped him out into the hallway.

“Right, so how far do you need?”

“Bed.”

His flat was fairly close to the elevator, either by planning on his part or coincidence, so it wasn’t too much trouble. I tried to prop him up against the wall to search him for his keys, but he just slid down it. He slapped my hand away when I tried to get to his pockets anyway.

“Leave here.”

“You know you’ll be furious tomorrow if I do.”

“Fair.”

Pawing at his pants, he managed to drop the keys onto the floor. I unlocked the door, then got him up and into the apartment. Ratty is the best way to describe it. I am fully aware we are off-planet, but you could easily convince me there’s any number of vermin among the wreckage. Due to his importance to the maintenance of the place, I’m pretty sure he’s paid more than anyone here, especially since most people don’t get paid at all, but you couldn’t tell from the state of his flat. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the brokest of all of us, but I don’t think that even matters to him. This wasn’t the first time I had to take him inside, but I always had to adjust to the absolute squalor. It never fully sunk in, the way he lived, if you want to call it that.

There was a relatively clean recliner in the telly area, so I left him there while I got his bed ready. I set up a glass of water and some paracetamol for him in the morning, then brought him over to tuck him in. He kicked off his shoes and curled up in the middle of the mattress, so I put the duvet over him. We were close, but it was well established that he’d rather sleep fully clothed than go through the further indignity of being stripped. The one time I tried, he fought back with tears in his eyes. I didn’t see much, but I remember a large scar across his middle. I’m happy not knowing.

After I got upstairs and cleaned myself up, I sat down on my couch. Any other day, a rejected case would be the last thing on my mind, but I couldn’t help thinking about the one I found in my office. If she wants to waste her money having someone turn up a lost appliance, I have no issue with it, but the gall of seeking me out and expecting me to waste my time with that nonsense was infuriating. But it was none of my business, I made that quite clear. I lied down on the couch and flipped on the telly, not ready to power down for the night. Nothing good was on, so I shuffled through the channels and watched the shadows dance on the wall. It would be a safety nightmare, but times like these I desperately wished we could have windows. There were a couple planets close enough to watch, sitting in a ship outside, and plenty of stars of course. I always loved the look of it, the majesty of the universe, but there was hardly an opportunity to enjoy it anymore. Well, if I wanted it I could have it, but there didn’t seem to be a point to it. I find work by being in the station, and that pays the bills. Plus, the stars just looked duller nowadays. Better off to stay at home and watch whatever brain drain they’re pumping out to the screens of the galaxy.

[vadersmom1]

What is a Honeybear?

Read on ao3

When Steve and Bucky move into the house on Vine St., they were greeted by their neighbor that lived two houses down. He was a short brunette that definitely worked with his hands, Steve notes.

“Welcome to the neighborhood!” The man greets. “I’m Tony. I live two houses down. Do you need any help unpacking?”

Steve isn’t sure why, but his voice has stopped working. Bucky steps in, holding out a hand to shake. “Hi, I’m Bucky Barnes and this is my brother, Steve Rogers. We would appreciate the help.”

Tony helps them carry their last truckload of boxes into the house. By the time the last box has been set down, the three of them are laughing and talking aa if they were all old friends. Tony orders pizza from “the best pizza place in town.” When they’re finished, he tells them he has to go.

“He’s kind of cute,” Steve remarks as he and Bucky watch Tony leave.

“He is,” Bucky agrees. “Go for it.”

“I dunno. I would have to make sure he is interested. I don’t want to make our first welcoming neighbor uncomfortable with us.” Steve nudges Bucky’s shoulder. “When is Sam going to be here?”

Sam arrives about twenty minutes later, and the three of them unpack until Bucky decides he is done for the night and drags Sam to bed. Steve checks his phone and sends a quick text off to Sharon about their neighbor before he decides to follow Bucky’s example. It was a long day, and he is exhausted.

Steve keeps Sharon updated on Tony. She had broken up with him two years ago when she realized that she just wasn’t into men. Steve had had a self-realization not too long after that he liked men just as much as he liked women. Six months later, Sharon was dating their friend Maria, and she and Steve had remained friendly. Now he texts her about any new options he’s found. She’s on a long business trip at the moment and is unable to visit.

Tony hangs around a lot. Even though he owns three cars, he lives alone with a few robots, which he has named oddly. He has a DUM-E, a BUTTERFINGERS, and a U. Steve thinks he has another one, or else he names his cars because he knows he’s heard “Platypus” and “honeybear” a few times. It’s a little odd, but Steve finds it endearing. The man drinks more than his healthy share of coffee and somehow manages to injure himself on the dumbest things. If Tony lived with someone, Steve would be afraid that he’s covering up abuse. Tony is a genius – you should see (or hear) the AI that he coded and installed in his home – but he is also so dumb sometimes. He can work out long division in his head, but he has no idea why drinking orange juice right after brushing his teeth is a bad idea. Steve knows he’s smitten, and it has only been a month since they’ve moved in. Sam and Bucky think it’s hilarious and that he should just ask Tony out, but Steve is unsure.

They have had other neighbors welcome them to the neighborhood. Most of them have something to say about Tony, mostly disapproving.

Old Mrs. Oakley tells them that he gets big deliveries and floods the air with exhaust from “those big trucks.” She often wonders why he doesn’t just get them delivered to a warehouse. Steve does wonder if he works from home. He doesn’t know if he’s ever seen Tony leave to go to work.

Janice Teller brings them an apple pie that is a “secret family recipe.” She openly flirts with Steve even though he knows she has a husband and four kids. She tells Steve and Bucky that Tony is a sex addict. There are always people going in and out of his house. Steve has noticed that two read-headed women visit him a lot. Maybe he’s in a polyamorous relationship and really digs redheads.

Mr. Everton, who lives next door to Tony, complains about the noise. Apparently, Tony keeps late hours and blares classic rock and 80’s metal. Bucky just smirks and says he likes Tony’s style.

Karen Packer stops past weekly to catch them up on the latest gossip. When Bucky – to Steve’s mortification – asks if Tony is single, she leans in and tells them, “I hear he’s pansexual or something like that. What is that – attracted to skillets?” And she laughs at own very annoying joke. “Any way, whatever that means. But honestly?” Somehow, she leans in even further. “I don’t know. I think he’s more of a playboy. There have been several people who keep coming back. He did have a black – I mean, African American, I’m sorry – man living with him for a while, but he’s never around anymore. Man probably drove him away what with all his oddities. He must be a lot to deal with.” Steve wants to strangle this woman, so he lets Bucky handle her.

Jessica is a recluse who lives next door to Steve and Bucky. She’s a PI who has a home office. She’s obnoxious and mean to any who approach her, save Tony. To be honest, she is mean and obnoxious to him as well, but it’s a different tone. He returns it, and she gives a hint of a smile. Tony tells Steve and Bucky that they are drinking buddies.

Most people seem to leave Tony alone, and he does likewise. Steve wonders why, then, does Tony seem to knock on their door at 3am because he can’t sleep and needs someone to whom he can talk? They learn that Tony has nightmares from a traumatic experience, and he hates fire, the cold, and closed, dark spaces.

+++++++++++++++

Somewhere around the two-month mark of their new home, Bucky hears a knock on the back door. This is odd because their back door opens to a fenced-in yard. He opens it to find Tony in sweatpants and a flannel that he is quickly trying to button. Bucky catches some scar tissue across his chest.

“Can I help you?” He asks amusedly.

“Yes. I need you to hide me.” Tony pants. “I have someone at my house who is violating a restraining order.”

“Do you want me to call the cops?”

“No. No cops. I’m trying to stay out of the spotlight, not because of anything illegal, but because I used to be famous and I don’t want to be anymore. And she’s a stalker. She didn’t see me, so I don’t know if it’s just a lead she got, or if she really knows I’m here. Do you mind if I stay here until she leaves?” Tony asks.

“Sure. No problem. Want me to get rid of her?” Bucky asks. He knows his glare and prosthetic arm scare a lot of people.

Tony shrugs. “You can try, but she’s pretty persistent.”

Bucky and Steve look out the window blinds. There is a gorgeous woman standing at Tony’s door. After she knocks and rings the doorbell a few times, she stands on the walk, waiting. Bucky opens his door and walks over to Tony’s. “Hi! Can I help you? I don’t think they’re home at the moment.”

“Oh, hi.” The woman says her voice like a syrup. “I’m just looking for Tony. Does he live here?”

Bucky stares at her quizzically. “Tony? I don’t know any Tony’s. You have the wrong house.”

“Are you sure? I was told he lives here.” She starts to get a little pissy.

“Nope. The people who live here are Adam and Julia Batcher. I believe they are both at work.”

“Then who’s car is that?” The lady points at the old Toyota Corolla out front of the house.

Bucky shrugs. “Car broke down about a year ago. Adam bought a new one, but this was his first car, so he doesn’t want to get rid of it.”

“If you’re lying to me,” She threatens, eyes narrowed, “I can make your life miserable.”

“What reason do I have to lie to you?” Bucky makes himself look upset. “I just wanted to help you. But if you want to threaten me, I will have to ask you to leave. We all stick together here, and no one will be happy that you just threatened an ex-soldier who lost his arm on a tour.” He knows his death glare is showing now.

The woman gulps. “I am so sorry. I will be on my way. Thank you for your service.” She hops in her car and drives away.

Bucky scrubs a hand over his face and mutters, “Bitch.”

Tony is awestruck when Bucky returns. “You got her to leave in five minutes. Can I hire you as my bodyguard?” He gushes. “Sunset Bain didn’t know what hit her.” He stays at their house the rest of the day and has one of his redhead friends go home with him in case Sunset is watching.

Tony introduces his friend as Natasha, the second-scariest person he knows. She shakes their hands but looks at them suspiciously. When he leaves, he hugs both Steve and Bucky and thanks them profusely.

Tony starts to hang out with Steve, Bucky, and Sam most days now. He’ll buy expensive steaks and just take them to their house and say he’s providing dinner. They have a weekly movie night, and Tony is a James Bond and Star Wars junkie, so he fits right in. He indulges and feeds Bucky’s conspiracy-fueled brain. Many a night is spent arguing about the moon landing or whether aliens are real, etc. Steve feels that Tony is fitting in so well to his friend group. He can’t wait for Sharon to meet him because he knows they will hit off well.

Steve still hasn’t made his move for two reasons. One, Tony has never seemed too interested in Steve. He flirts with Steve, but he also flirts with Bucky and Sam. Two, he thinks Tony is dating Natasha. They seem awfully close.

Tony seems to be getting happier and happier. He keeps referencing something about “one more month" or “three weeks" and so on. It has something to do with “Honeybear" the car being home to stay. Steve guesses he’s finally made the last payment on his car or something.

+++++++

The day finally comes that Tony has been referring to. Steve is curious to see why today is so special. But Tony just goes about his day like normal.

Steve complains to Bucky when he sees him out working on the Corolla in short shorts and a black wife beater. “It’s like he wants me to see him. The grease stains are so hot. Ugh. I just want to ask him out.”

“Ask who out?” Maria asks, walking in the door with Sharon.

“Tony. Look at him. Isn’t he hot?” Steve sighs.

Sharon looks out the window, and her eyes get big. “No, you better not ask him out!” She growls.

Natasha's car pulls up. Tony rolls out from under the car immediately, and his face brightens. Steve sighs dejectedly. Of course, they’re dating. He looks away.

“Keep watching,” Sharon advises.

An African American man in an army uniform jumps out of the car, and Tony’s face beams. He embraces the man tightly and pulls him into a filthy kiss. Steve’s face forms an ‘O', and Sharon laughs, “Yes, that is why you shouldn’t ask him out.”

“You-you know him?” Bucky asks.

“Yes, he’s my ‘cousin' Tony. My aunt Peggy and his dad were friends. Rhodes is his husband.”

“Why did he never bring up his husband?” Steve questions.

Maria snorts, “Has he mentioned Sugarbear, Honeybear, Sourpatch, Cabbagepatch, Platypus, or anything like that? Tony uses nicknames for those he loves.”

“Yea, I have gotten a lot of Cyborg names,” Bucky says thoughtfully. “And he calls Sam ‘Birdie’ a lot. Steve, doesn’t he call you the ‘great wall of justice’ or ‘Cap'?”

“…And here are Steve and Bucky,” Tony walks up with Rhodes. “Steve, Bucky, I would like you to meet my husband, my honeybear, my sour patch, my lover, and my Rhodey, James Rhodes. Rhodey, this is Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.”

“Call me Rhodey or Jim,” Rhodey sticks out his hand. “This one thinks James is a stupid name. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard tons about you guys.”

“Nice to meet you as well.” Steve replies.

Tony claps his hands. “Ok great! Introductions are made. I hate to kiss and run, but Rhodey just got back from a long deployment. I hope you understand we will need a lot of alone time.” He grins as Steve blushes. “Please excuse us.” Tony all but drags Rhodey out of the house. Seeing Sharon, he pauses, “Hey cuz. Wait you guys know each other?”

Rhodey rolls his eyes and proceeds to pull Tony out of the house, “I thought we needed alone time.”

Steve heaves a sigh of relief once the couple makes it to their door.

“That’s why,” Sharon says. “However, have you met Nat? She might be a good choice for you.”

Steve groans.