#but hey maybe they can work things out and fix the misunderstanding before the fucked up moon

[laugtherhyena]

Continuing the relationship chart grind, look at how many goddamn arrows and multiple colors this bitch has. I wouldn't expect anything less form Mrs.Weird woman here.

Much like last time, check this post first if you're new here so you know who is who in this mess.

As an evil spiteful nurse most of Catherine's chart is composed of varying levels of dislike. While John is the only one with the hartred color all through the only reason she hates him that much if because he tries to kill her on day 1 morning, if it wasn't for that she really wouldn't have much opinion in the guy. Amos is actually the person she hates the most out of the whole cast, pretty much by default, since he is a priest and Catherine despises anything and everything related to religion or cultists or magic. Partially because the family that abused her for a good part of her life was heavily religious so she associates the practices and devotion with them, but also because she prides herself in her work a lot and feel as if using magic for things, especially healing, is incredibly lazy and requires no real skill or ability. Seeing people be able to grow entite limbs back in some rituals while the best she can do is stitch them back up makes her feel worthless and she hates that more than anything, it's a blow to the ego, what more can i say.

That's literally the whole reason she has such a bone to pick with Amos because if she stopped being an asshole for one and learned how he was forced to become a dark preist and actually dislikes that heavily I'm sure she wouldn't dislike him that much. But she'll never take time off her day to be around him unless absolutely necessary, so that's not happening.

She dislikes Kit for basically the same reason as Amos, tho his less bad because his main god isn't All-mer (the one her family devoted themslves to the most, which is also the church kind Amos was a part of) + seeing him be an absolute outcast and lacking even a basic knowledge of how it is to be normal and a part of society due to the cult he grew up in validates her beliefs that cultists are just deranged people who will ruin their own lives in favor of devoting themselves to a god that doesn't care for them. She pities him, but that pity isn't enough to make her feel genuinely bad for the guy, she will just be a dick that glares at him from the sinelines and find some form of twisted enjoyment from seeing him suffer because of his ties to the wolfmasks.

On a similar note of dislike mixed with weird feelings we have Lola, who is an odd one out in her humongous hate list because Catherine tens to have a soft spot for women who had harsh upbringing and/or grew up in poverty because she also went through hell while growing up, while Lola did have a pretty harsh life that is ironically a factor in why Cathetine dislikes her so much.

She sees herself in her, as they were both essentially forced to become houseworkers from a young age for one reason or another. But since Lola never tried to change that status or pursue genuine passions she had in life, bending to other's wills and becoming incredibly submissive as an adult because of that, Catherine absolutely loathes her because in her eyes she's looking at the kind of person she could very well have become if she didn't take certain paths in life and she hates that so so much, tho the "I relate to you heavily" keeps her from despising this girl in the same way she does with John and Amos. And hey, i do think that in certains situations she may be kind with her for once, there's just a heap of weird feelings and (self) hate involved.

Continuing on the dislike section we have Claire and really the main reason she dislikes her is because at the start of termina Claire follows her around trying to see if she can overhear any news about Kaiser's supposed plan of invading Prehevil, Catherine is from his army after all and if she's there Claire believes she can maybe check if those rumors hold true. Naturally, Cathy dislikes being stalked, which is made worse by the fact that Claire takes pictures of her around town (Catherine hates her appearance) which in turn leads to Cathy destroying her camera in a bit of a squabble during day 1 morning.

The thing is that this dislike can turn into gratitude and slight respect if Claire is the one to find and listen to her in the bop's hideout during day 1 night (which is Cathy's recruiting event), so much so that she is the only one of the playable characters of who Catherine will tell that she was indeed sent to Prehevil to scout the place and report when would be the best time for the army to invade it + how now she plans on calling them to come anyway so that they can be killed by the moonscorches as a revenge of sorts since by this point she believes Kaiser send her there to die (essentially saying she is disposable and you bet she hated that idea a lot).

Lastly we have Addison and Matyas who are in the dislike/intrigue mixture for basically the same reason of Catherine finds them incredibly annoying and can't stand being around them, Addison because of how paranoid and scaredy he becomes when termina starts and Matyas for his delusional ramblings and scaredy cat-ness as well.

Onto the neturals we have Hilda and Anatol who she really doesn't hold much of an opinion on. Hilda doesn't talk to her and she won't bother going after her either but she does find Anatol tolerable, mainly because he is Ebba's boyfriend and she likes both Ebba and Mary for the previously mentioned soft spot she has for girls who grew up in terrible environments. Tho i would say she likes Mary a bit more than she likes Ebba because she finds her ability to keep on living/fighting despite being incredibly injured impressive from a medical standpoint + Ebba taking advantage of Mary upsets her a little.

Lastly we got the Vinson brothers which are a source of intrigue to her because Cathy never had a good or even normal relationship with her sister so she likes observing the two out if wondering if that's how siblings are actually meant to be, she can tell that despite arguing and butting heads quite often both Damian and Leslie care a lot for one another which is something she finds both sweet and saddening because Madeline has never had this form of genuine care for her even after she started being nice to her.

While she is somewhat similar to Damian due to both of them being very no-nonsense sort of people who focus on their goals above most other things, they don't actually get along that well? They will work fine if they're sticking together for survival but if left on their own devices they will probably just never talk because Damian finds her sketchy/suspicious/potentially dangerous and since Cathy can tell he looks at her weirdly she will act accordingly.

Leslie on the hand is the person she likes the most out of the entire cast, surprisingly because i feel at first glance she didn't thought much of him and only really started interacting with him out of being curious about the brothers. A handful of the things he'd say to her confused her immensely because she could not tell he was trying to show interest in her out of never having had anyone come towards her with that sort of intention, when he did make that clear with some kind of straightforward compliment it also confused her a lot but more as a form of denial of sorts.

Catherine is really funny to because she will be a spiteful power hungry asshole that is some level of rude to basically everyone she knows on a daily basis but she will crumble into an emotional mess the second someone reasures her that she is not an eyesore. Physical appearance is Catherine's deepest insecurity both due to the scars on her face and her body shape in general, so the idea that another person can like it let alone find her attractive is absolutely mind boggling to her. Knowing Leslie likes her that much makes her incredibly flustered but also drawn to him more and more through the festival since she longs to be loved even if Cathy herself would never admit it. (This isn't to say he only likes her for the looks tho, what made him set his eyes on her was Catherine being creepy and weird)

[1-ker0sene-1]

Never Just Two

Ghoap / Reader

(Wheelchair User Reader)

Chap1, Chap2, Chap3

"A Sargeants Bad Luck"

Word Count: 2k

CW: Johnny can't leave well enough alone, misunderstandings to the max

You were starting to come out of your shell now. Gaining some real confidence. Defiance. Threading your personality into the tightly woven design of this team. You still avoided the couple, however it wasn't out of fear. You gave them the respect of coworkers, but because of their actions you made no effort to befriend them. Simon could handle and understand. But it was wearing on Johnny.

"How do we even apologize?"

He groans, laid back lazily in Simons bed. Who rolled his eyes at the dramatic scott.

"By apologizing."

The masked man grumbles in return. He knew a simple 'I'm sorry' wouldn't fix everything, but it would be a start. The real rough part was to do it, cause that meant they would have to directly explain their pathetic behavior of strategizing against a disabled coworker.

"She already hates us I swear it-"

Johnny sighs, sitting up with a frown. Watching you with Gaz and Price was driving him up the wall. He liked being close knit with his team, knowing them and fighting beside them. Maybe you weren't out on the field with a gun, but now you were officially one of them. And you didn't want a damn thing to do with him. You had every reason to, of course, he knows that. He wants to fix it. You have such a strange affect on Johnny, you make him so damn nervous.

He tried first with coffee. Leaving a cup ready for you in the common room, where you'd usually sit by your laptop doing your morning routine and chatting with Price. He can fix this, little things at a time. He was never exactly great at leaving things be.

But then he sees your face, scrunching with confusion staring at the mug in your spot. Johnny doesn't speak up yet, watching emotions flow through you. You take the mug, carrying it back to the counter. Mortified, he watches you pour it right down the sink. Turning to the coffee pot to pour yourself a new cup. As you prepare it, he realizes what happened. He wants to slam his head through a wall.

Fucking idiot.. He made it no where near how you like.

His next attempt, he was sure it would work this time. At least get him on your better side. Was to adjust some of the cupboards. Johnny noticed how sometimes you struggled to reach all the way up with your sitting position. Taking the time to remove the cheap box cupboards, and screw them in a bit lower on the wall. He was almost finished when Gaz interrupted him.

"Hey mate you wanna help with the recruit situation? Got a couple idiots fightin' in the mess hall."

John groans, nodding and heading out with the fellow sargeant to deal with it. The cupboards were mostly done, he just had a couple screws to tighten back up.

By the time he was walking back to continue, he hears a crash. And your voice cursing out. Gaz and Johnny look to eachother before rushing towards the common room. And where you were, holding the detached handle of the cheap cupboard, the rest of it fallen on the floor. It almost fell on you. Once again Johnny wanted to bash himself. He opens his mouth, but Gaz is already coming over to you.

"You alright?"

He asks, resting a hand on your shoulder. His free hand takes the cupboard door and tosses it on the countertop.

"I'm fine just-"

You glance at Johnny, blinking as you see the screwdriver poking out of his pocket. Your eyes shoot away from him. Lips pressing into a tight frustrated line.

"I'm good."

You mumble, reaching to grab something else from a more stable cupboard.

"So you're way of apologizin' is making her coffee that could give her diabetes and dropping a cupboard on her head?"

Simon asks, crossing his arms. Watching Johnny bump his forehead repeatedly against the bed post. The brit is leaned back in a chair, mug of tea in his hands as he watches his distressed scottsman.

"Tha fuck is wrong with me?"

Johnny mutters exasperated.

"You're pushing too hard. We'll apologize tomorrow. Leave it be Johnny."

Simon advises, his hand coming over to his partners shoulder. Giving him a stern squeeze. It was for the best. Give you some time to cool off from Johnny's attempts, hopefully you won't take his actions as more threats. They've done enough of that bullshit.

Johnny swallows.. leave it be. That's what he should do. That is the plan. Leave it be and tomorrow they'll get on track to make things better. He was never good at leaving things alone. He just drowns in the paranoia of your hatred. The way you look at him and Simon makes his stomach ache, embarrassed to admit that it matters to him what you think of them. They started off so harshly with you. Now he's left to watch you show the rest of the team utter warmth and acceptance, things they should have shown you.

Now they're fucked. Utterly fucked. He didn't leave it be. Far from that actually. Johnny slams the door shut behind him in the room. Looking pale with wide eyes. Simon raises a brow at him. Johnny swallows.

"I know ye said ta leave it-"

"What did you do?"

Simon growls, Johnny sucks in a breath. Slowly revealing what he was hiding behind his back. The footrests to your chair. Simons jaw snaps shut, snapping the cigarette in his mouth clean in half.

"What the fuck were you thinkin'!?"

Simon curses, wrenching the footrest from Johnny's hand. Looking down at it with furrowed brows. The blue eyed man starts his explanation.

"I thought I could fix it- she was talkin' all mornin' about it being too high. That it needs lowered cause it hurts her ankles- she was workin' out so I tried adjusting it and the damn thing just fell off-"

Rambling about how his intentions were to assist you. Make things better. But this was far from it.

"Johnny you don't fuck with a mobility aid."

Simon scolds instantly, eyes narrowed. He had a fucking plan. An apology to make. The damn bastard couldn't wait one night!? He runs a hand over his face with a groan.

"You couldn't put it back on?"

Johnny deflates.

".. The screw was stripped. Gotta find a new one that size-"

They're interrupted by harsh banging on the door. Johnny grimaces. Simon gives him a deadpanned glare. Should have let it be. Simon pushes the footrest back into his lovers hand, turning him with a push on the shoulder. Grumbling sarcastically.

"By all means love. Go explain yourself."

Johnny sighs and reaches to pull open the door. Opening his mouth to spew apologies but you don't even give him the chance.

"Where the hell do you get off!?"

You boom, face twisted in a snarl. You are fuming. Sitting in your chair, arms crossed, nails digging into your own skin. Eyes lit up in a furious glare. Your chest heaving up and down. Your feet hanging just above the ground is a sore reminder of Johnny's worst mistake of the day.

"Y'know- I was fine with letting you guys do your thing and not bothering you. But you have no fucking right to make my life hell when I haven't done a god damn thing to either of you!"

Johnny's throat is impossibly tight, strangled by his own actions.

"Lass I'm really-"

"Don't call me that. You call me by my name, or nothing at all."

You snap. He takes a breath and nods. Mumbling your name. Simon stands behind him tense and looking at you.

" 'm really fuckin' sorry. I never meant ta break it."

"Why would I believe that? You've been fucking with me all day!"

You say, brows furrowed. Johnny blinks, shaking his head as he tries to pitifully explain himself. A feared soldier on the battlefield, a menace of explosions and tech, now babbling out excuses to you.

"No- I swear- I was tryin' to find a way to apologize ta ye."

"Apologize? .. Then why wouldn't you just fucking say that?"

You huff.

Simon cocks his head to the side, looking at Johnny with a glare.

"Yeah Johnny, why didn't you just say that?"

He repeats, trying to beat his point into his stubborn partners head. They could have apologized and not been in this mess. Johnny swallows and gives Simon a glare from the corner of his eyes.

"Yer nae helpin'."

Simon rolls his eyes, looking at you again. For once, a little softer. You've been fucked over all day.

The blonde mindlessly adjusted his balaclava a bit, before clearing his throat. Gesturing you inside the room. You give him an untrusting look, before rolling your chair into the room, letting him shut the door behind you. You grumble something under your breath, snatching your footrests back from Soaps hands. Resting it on your lap for now.

Simon grasps Johnny by the nape of the neck, pressing down on him with an authoritative grip to sit down on the edge of the bed. They were going to talk. They were going to start making this right. By doing it the right fucking way so help him god.

"You got every right to be angry. You deserve a proper apology yeah? No excuses. Just the truth."

"Bit of an understatement.."

You mumble, making Johnny wince. Simon nods in understanding. You suck in a tight breath and continue.

".. I already told you I wasn't telling anyone about you guys- so what the fuck do you have against me? .. That I'm new? That I'm not Laswell? ....Is it because of the chai-"

"No!"

Johnny says quickly, Simon almost says it at the same time.

"It's nae like that.. we were right pricks. We know. I really was tryin' ta make it up to ye today. Jus' dinnae know how.. and kept fuckin' it up.."

Soap rubs the back of his neck, blue eyes full of remorse and swimming in guilt. Simon sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"We made a .. Few mistakes. We got off wrong from the start. The apology is long overdue. But we are sorry. We can pay for the repair."

You glance between the two of them with eyes of scrutiny, trying to dig for any hint of insencerity. When you find none you huff in annoyance, it would honestly be easier to hate them.

"Doesn't need a repair. Just a new screw. ... Just thought you did it on purpose."

You mutter. Johnny's shoulders sink.

"I promise ye I dinnae..I wouldn't."

Simon huffs, arm resting on Johnny's shoulder. He looks down at you.

"We're a team.. you're good for this team. We need to start treating you better. As one of us. .. Maybe we can start over right."

"No."

They blink at your rejection. But it's clear you're serious. You raise your brows at them.

"You guys don't just get to start over when you're assholes... Fix your actions instead."

You say, crossing your arms. Simon swallows thickly, you were right. You could go and tell Price of their treatment. Not only get them reprimanded, but you could come clean about all of them and get them in some real trouble.

"No more running around behind my back. Tell me when you want to help out.."

Johnny lifts his head at your words, opening his mouth. But you hold up a hand and give him a light glare.

"And no touching the chair anymore. Shouldn't have to say that at all."

You say, Johnny nods instantly.

"I deserve to be here. I know you're a Lieutenant, and I know you're a Sargeant. But I have a job to do too. Frankly it's to make sure you guys get back alive..... I'm not telling Price what happened."

Both men slack with relief. But you're not done yet.

"But if you pull that shit again. I'll transfer out. I know my worth. I'm not going to stay where I'm not wanted."

"We know-"

Simon starts.

"Then act like it."

You finish. Effectively silencing them. Simon gives a short nod to your order. In a way it was hard to describe the affect you had on them. Your strangely strong and suffocating presence. You weren't to be stepped on. You weren't to be taken lightly. Not anymore.

{Tag list: @waiting-so-long @redz0mbie @lolly145 @infpt-zylith @missmidnight-writes }

[frozenjokes]

I Need [You] [To Be] A Hero! (1/2)

note: this is a pretty direct sequel to this fic, but can probably also be read on its own. wouldn’t recommend it though. ALSO. there is a misunderstanding involving domestic abuse in this fic, when in reality nothing has actually happened. still, if that makes you uncomfortable I would definitely skip.

next

It was safe to say Scar was freaking out a little. Grian, Cub’s roommate who he had never met before, not even as HotGuy, was in his house experiencing some sort of mental health crisis- what the fuck was happening?

His first impulse was to call Cub- of course that was what he wanted to do, but Cub had made it quite clear he was not happy with HotGuy right now, and Grian had been adamant that he couldn’t go home- that there was no one Scar could call who could help.

But when Grian woke up the next day, not leaving his room until the early afternoon, Scar didn't want to tell Cub anything at all. Grian’s face was all sorts of fucked, bruised to all hell, and Scar didn’t remember seeing bruises last night, but it was dark and he had been tipsy- Though, Grian had been wearing quite a heavy amount of makeup, which he seemed to have washed off now.. Oh god. Grian didn’t want to talk about what had happened, and Scar didn’t want to push, but he was suddenly quite worried about what was hidden under the sleeves of his sweater. Grian hadn’t wanted to be touched last night either- fuck.

Scar didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do. Though, he got his answer pretty quick when HotGuy’s phone buzzed in his back pocket, his heart sinking at a text from Cub.

‘Have you seen CuteGuy at all? Last night? Important.’

What did he want to know about CuteGuy? Suspicion curled in his gut, but maybe that was just anger, or hurt, or any number of emotions turning his stomach. He hadn’t, obviously. He hadn’t been working last night.

‘No, but I need to talk to you. Meet me for lunch, same place, or anywhere that’s easiest for you. 2:00.’

‘I’ll be there. Is something wrong?’

Scar could only frown at the message, staring for too long before leaving it unanswered, dropping his phone back in his pocket.

“Hey, Grian, I have to meet someone for work. I’m going to lunch, and I can bring you something back if you want. Could be a while, but I grabbed a few things from the grocery store, so you can make yourself something if you don’t want to wait. Doesn’t matter either way, just text me. Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen.”

“Okay,” Grian mumbled, looking just as miserable as he sounded. He never looked up from his phone, scrolling aimlessly with lidded eyes. The sight broke Scar’s damn heart.

“Try and eat something, alright?”

“Okay.” Just about as noncommittal as it gets. Well. He would make sure Grian got dinner at least.

Scar wasn’t used to being unable to change in this house, but it wasn’t too big of a deal. He stopped by his hospital instead, the one that would glue him back together whenever needed, and changed there, leaving behind the bits of his disguise to pick up later. It wasn’t much, just the wig and the clothes he was wearing, but it still took a bit of time to fix his hair, adjust his makeup- just getting into his uniform could be a chore sometimes, especially when his prosthetics were deciding to be difficult- he was going to have to get those repaired again soon. A problem for another day.

By the time everything was said and done, he was a bit late, though he didn’t feel very bad. Cub deserved to squirm a bit as far as Scar was concerned, but he did try and hurry it up regardless.

And squirming he was.

Cub was a complete nervous wreck when Scar managed to arrive and sit down, which was reasonable, all things considered, but Scar was glad for it. He should be nervous.

“Uh, hi,” Cub spoke before Scar could, “I had a question, actually, I mean, I know you’re a superhero and that’s your thing, but are you- do you arrest people? Is that a thing you do? I couldn’t really find any answers online, I wasn’t sure.” Cub fidgeted with his hands when Scar frowned, almost aggressively avoiding eye contact.

“Why? Have you committed any crimes?” Scar couldn’t help himself from shooting back, the anger crawling beneath his skin getting the better of him.

“Uh,” Cub paused for what had to be an abnormal amount of time, “No. Just curious.”

“Just curious? Well no, most of the time, not really. My job isn’t to take people into custody, just to stop them from hurting other people or damaging anyone’s property. Our police force is a bit pathetic though, if you haven’t noticed, so most of the time our villains don’t really stay in jail.”

“You’re upset with me.” Cub said the words like facts, which they were, and stared. Scar stared right back.

“I think ‘upset’ is the wrong word here.”

“If this is about that fight with you and CuteGuy, I don’t think you have any right to be unhappy with me. That was stupid, you were both being stupid, and someone could have gotten hurt. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out or anything, but things have been bad at home, and I didn’t have the time or energy to talk, so some patience would be appreciated.”

“For goodness’ sake, I’m not mad about the fight.”

“Then why- I don’t care. I don’t have time for this. I- I need help. Someone I know did- has been doing some really bad things, and I want to help him, but I just don’t know how, and he ran off and he’s not answering his calls and-“

“Someone you know, huh?”

“Yes- What is wrong with you? Why are you acting so shitty?”

“I want to know what you did to Grian.”

“Wh-“ Cub stopped short, freezing completely, “What I- Scar, have you seen him? Is he okay? Is he safe? Do you know where he is? I don’t- What do you think I did?”

“I don’t think he feels safe at home, Cub. He’s got all sorts of bruises where people don’t just get bruises.”

Silence. Scar’s frown deepened, while all Cub could seem to do was gape.

“Oh fuck, Scar, I did not- Scar, this is a huge misunderstanding, I have not hurt Grian, I need you to believe me- I need your help.”

“I don’t believe you, actually.”

“Scar, Grian is CuteGuy.” For the first time, Scar saw the fear behind Cub’s eyes, the desperation in his voice; for the first time, Scar stopped completely short. When Cub was sure he was listening, he continued, “I found out when he met me in that parking lot. I didn’t recognize him immediately with the outfit and the covers over his wings and- I think he paints his flight feathers? But I figured it out pretty damn fast, and he’s- Grian has always had issues, Scar, like, major issues, but he’s- he’s not- he just doesn’t have good outlets, I don’t really think he actually wants to hurt people!”

Oh.

“I..” Scar dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his forehead, “I hit him. I did that.”

“You did do that! You almost shot him-!” Cub stopped, taking a breath, then laying his hands over his temples for a moment before letting them hit the table, “I don’t care. It was stupid, but I don’t care. I just want him to be okay. Is he safe? Where did he end up? I didn’t see anything on the news, but him not being CuteGuy doesn’t- he can have these really intense reactions to bad stuff happening, even little stuff sometimes, it’s- I promise you he’s trying, I know he’s trying.” There was so much pain there, so much, and Scar had to wonder if Cub knew the extent of what Grian had done, or if he even cared at all. Even Scar wasn’t sure, now that he really thought about it. He.. would have to check later.

“He’s safe. He’s at my, uh, a friend’s house. Found him at a bar, being.. I think intense is the right word. He said he couldn’t go home, and needed a place to stay.”

“Oh god. Was he drinking?”

“I don’t.. think so. Friend was pretty concerned, but Grian insisted he was sober. Took him home before that changed.”

“Oh, good. Good,” Cub sighed, head falling back into his hands, and Scar swore he felt Cub’s relief in his soul. “Could I.. get this friend’s number? I don’t know if I should try and see Grian yet, I really don’t want him to run again, but I just want to make sure everything is okay. I don’t- I have no idea what to do here, I really don’t, I’m just.. really grateful.” Cub paused, then sat up suddenly, “You won’t arrest him, will you? Please don’t. He’s already had to serve some time for repeated offenses, and he’s so much worse when he gets out, it won’t work, it won’t help him-“

“I’m not going to arrest him, Cub. And yeah, let me text you his number.” Scar grabbed HotGuy’s phone to do just that, fumbling a bit as he erased the name off the contact.

“Thank you,” Cub heaved a massive sigh, deflating, “It’s hard enough to get him working again as it is. Customer service isn’t an option- you think I’m bad, woof. It’s not an option.”

“I don’t think you’re bad!”

Cub snorted. “That’s sweet.”

“I don’t!”

“You were barely through the door before I said something rude, then had a complete autism panic attack in the back room. That was particularly bad.”

“Okay, but the thing you said about my legs was hilarious- oh is that what that was?”

Cub paused for a moment, then shook his head, teeth poking out behind his smile, and Scar felt himself fall back in love all over again, “Yeah man, I get it rough sometimes. Thought you knew, honestly.”

“People react in so many different ways to seeing me, getting helped by me, or thinking they’ve embarrassed themselves in front of me that I’ve literally seen it all. I’ve just stopped asking questions.”

“Hey, cheers to that, man.” Cub checked his phone when it buzzed, though had a small moment of confusion that Scar had already anticipated before he shared the contact. “What’s your friend’s name again?”

“Not my place to share, I’m afraid. He’s a tricky guy, really paranoid about the fae and names, so you’ll have to ask him what he wants you to call him. I’ll give him a heads up that you're contacting him, so it’ll be fine. If it’s easier, Grian calls him Micah. For ease of access, he might let you call him the same name, but he’s been known to be.. difficult. Very nice though, just a little odd about some things. You should see his house, it’s all decked out in iron trims and’s got these funky chains everywhere? His front and backyard is all pavement, it’s nuts. I mean, I guess you will see it eventually, won’t you? Maybe.” Scar found himself rambling, suddenly very afraid of being found out. Grian did a pretty shit job at hiding his identity- the voice thing in particular, why did he do that? And if they’ve been friends for years, why did Grian even go near Cub in the first place? REGARDLESS. Clearly Cub had a pretty good intuition, so Scar would greatly prefer if he and Not HotGuy also known as Scar also known as Micah never met.

“Oh. Cool.” Cub looked kind of amused for some reason, but Scar didn’t get the chance to try and puzzle the expression out before he spoke again, “Hey, that’s a different mask, right? Any reason?”

“Oh! Yeah! This is the one I wear when I break my nose, since it doesn’t really cover it like the other one does. Well, CuteGuy broke it actually, but you understand. It’s.. a relatively common occurrence for me.”

“Ah, you know, I thought your nose looked a little crooked, but it’s always been kind of crooked, so I wasn’t quite sure. But that makes sense to me. ‘S cute.”

Scar’s brain stopped working. “What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking.” Cub smiled, and Scar felt his face heating up, and Cub laughed, fuck, what a delightful sound, “You silly thing,” Cub sighed, and Scar had no idea what that meant, but he wanted to know, he wanted to know so bad, he leaned over the table, waiting for Cub to say more, to say more right now, but Cub’s eyes were closed, sitting back in his chair contentedly.

Cub did not say more, and neither could Scar when their waitress arrived at the table, the same lady from before, looking positively frightened for some reason.

“Are.. you two ready to order?”

[alondradina]

Domaystic day 2: A stash of...

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Harry/Tom Riddle

Rating: T

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46893625/chapters/118179598#workskin

-

"So… It's been a couple weeks. How are things going with Tom?" Hermione casually inquired. Her video bounced erratically until she set her tablet down on the bedside table.

Ron laughed, voice staticky over the speaker. "Yeah, does he ever leave his room?"

"Of course he leaves his room," Hermione scolded. "I meet with him in the library once a week."

"I have calc two with him," Harry offered, pretending to misunderstand Ron's question, "so that's at least twice a week."

"I never see him," Ron grumbled.

"Aw! Is ickle Ronniekins sad?" One of the twins teased.

"You don't even know who we're talking about!"

"He sure is, Forge," the other twin answered, gleefully ignoring Ron.

Harry wished Ron's camera worked. It was always hilarious when the twins got hold of people's phones.

"But why, Gred?"

"Can you guys get the fuck out of my room?!"

"His room, he says," a twin chuckled.

The other joined in. "Pretty sure his name isn't on the lease."

"Guys-"

"Now, who is this mysterious dreamboat little Ronny is so despondent to have missed?"

"Fred! That's not-!"

"Pardon me, but that is, in fact, not Fred. I am Fred."

"I don't give a fuck-!"

One of the twins tsk'ed. "Such language!"

"A shame upon our house!"

"Mother would be appalled!"

There was a loud thunk as the phone presumably fell, and then a series of scuffling noises and yelling. Then silence.

Little Ronny poo is on mute until he learns to behave himself.

But please do tell us all about your friend.

Hermione sighed. "This wasn't really intended to be a public conversation, guys. The three of us are just trying to catch up after the first few weeks of classes."

Sounded rather like gossip to us.

Harry chuckled. "Maybe a little."

So dish.

"I have a roommate, Tom Riddle, and he-"

Oh!

We've heard about him!

"You have?" Hermione questioned, her image leaning closer to the tablet.

Who hasn't heard about the poor, exiled snakey?

"Snake?" Hermione's question came at the same time as Harry's, "Exiled?"

They wouldn't let him live in the Slytherin dorm.

Harry frowned. "Why?"

You'd have to ask him. They're a tight lipped bunch.

"Harry Potter?" A querulous voice called from his door.

Harry quickly set his phone down and jogged off with a quick, "Just a sec, guys!"

"Harry? What-?"

The rest of Hermione's question was cut off as he shut the door behind him. Turning around, he smiled at the shrunken old man nervously twitching around the kitchenette.

"Hey, Dobby."

"Hello, Harry!" The grin on his wrinkled face could have lit up the room, if he didn't have cheap, yellowed dentures.

Harry couldn't help but smile in return, though. "How's it going?"

"Where are the dishes? The trash?" Dobby questioned, waving his left hand around the dorm while keeping his right on his hip. "You boys are too helpful!"

"We were told-"

Dobby made a rude noise. "I will do the cleaning for you."

"And for me?" Tom drawled, quietly shutting his bedroom door before locking it. He turned to them and raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware that you had a personal housekeeper, Harry. Lucky us."

"He isn't-!"

"Tom Riddle, you do not need help. You are a very clean boy."

"Flatterer," Tom bowed mockingly and headed for the door. He stopped, the door open just a crack, to fix Harry with a flat look. "Leave my things alone."

Harry scoffed. "I wouldn't touch anything of yours."

Tom nodded after a moment, eyes still trained on Harry's, before slowly easing the door shut.

There was a moment of silence, before Harry scuffed a foot on the wooden floor and glanced down at Dobby. "Am I not a 'very clean' boy?"

"You are teasing me," the housekeeper grumbled. Padding over to the bathroom, he sighed. "Even the bathroom is clean. What will I clean now?"

"It's really alright," Harry soothed, following Dobby over and shutting the door. "I was raised to clean up after myself. I think Tom was as well."

Dobby's answer was an unamused 'hmph' as he wandered the apartment, presumably checking it for any errant messes.

A loud shriek of "HARRY!" reminded him that he'd left the video call going. Walking backwards to his room, Harry smiled at Dobby. "Gotta get back to my friends."

The old man immediately began following him. "Is your room clean?"

"I mean, it's clean enough-"

Dobby snorted and eased himself into the room before Harry could bring himself to object.

"Who the fuck is that?" Ron's voice called.

"Language, Ronald," Hermione reprimanded sweetly. "You wouldn't want the twins to hear now, would you?"

Ron grumbled something unflattering, and Hermione turned her nose up. It might have been more effective if he could see her, but he seemed to somehow know he was pushing his luck and quickly moved on.

"So what did you go off for?"

"Went to talk to Dobby."

"What's a Dobby?"

"Honestly, Ron! Do you pay any attention-"

"Not if I can help it."

"Are these your friends?"

"Hermione," Harry pointed at her image on his phone. She waved and Dobby waved back. "And then Ron's camera isn't working, so you can only hear him."

"It is nice to meet Harry's friends," Dobby proclaimed, grinning at a giggling Hermione before nudging Harry and staring between the unmade bed and the boy. "Harry Potter."

"No one comes in here, Dobby. It really doesn't matter."

Dobby 'hmph'ed and began making the bed. Once that was done, he started a circuit around the room to organize anything even slightly out of place.

Harry sighed and glanced at his phone. Hermione was smothering her giggles with her hands.

"What's going on?" Ron demanded. "I can't see what's happening, you know. What's so funny?"

"I'll just get out of your way," Harry mumbled, escaping the housekeeper's disapproval. He sighed again and began to flop on the couch, before changing his mind and springing back up. "You guys want to see something weird?"

"I won't see shit," Ron grumbled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Then get your camera fixed, Ronald. Otherwise stop complaining."

"You don't know-"

"Here's one!" Harry called, gladly interrupting their bickering. He pulled one of the kitchen drawers out and pointed the phone into the cavity. "Can you see it, Hermione?"

"See what?!"

"It looks like… a bunch of junk?" Hermione answered hesitantly.

Harry placed his phone on the counter and jiggled the drawer back in place. "Yeah. Just some junk."

"And we care about that, why?"

"It's Tom's junk. He has little hidey holes of just random trash hidden all over the place. He caught me checking this place out the other day, and laughed at me."

Ron scoffed. "Trash? He's hiding trash?"

"It's not really hiding if he puts them in obvious places-"

"I would not have thought to pull drawers out searching for other people's belongings -" Hermione interjected with a frown.

"And if he knows that I know it's there," Harry continued, ruffling his hair. "So I just don't get it. Is it a practical joke or something?"

"Pretty fucking lame prank, if you ask me," Ron opined. "My brothers do way better."

"They do tricks for a living, Ronald. It's not the same."

"Whatever. Sounds like total BS to me. Just ignore it. Stop playing his fucked up game."

Harry shrugged before remembering that his friend couldn't see. "It's fine, Ron. I don't really care too much. It bothers Dobby more than me."

"What bothers Dobby?"

Harry smiled at the old man. "Tom's strange piles of junk."

"That does not bother me," he protested. "Now that I know Mr. Riddle has done it on purpose, and it is not garbage, I am happy to leave it be."

"Wait!" Hermione shouted, her image pushing close to the tablet in order to get a better look at the housekeeper. "Is that one of the hats I crocheted for you, Harry?"

"Uhh…"

Dobby leaned towards the phone and twirled in a little circle to show off his hat. It was a stretched out navy stocking cap with wide gaps between the amateur stitches. Maroon chain stitches were prominently displayed underneath the gaps in the top layer. "Harry gave me his hats! How kind he is!"

Hermione's lower lip stuck out in a subtle pout. "I made those for you, Harry."

"Does he want my hats, too, Harry?"

"Ronald-"

"How about a scarf? Or two?"

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione shouted, slamming a hand down next to her tablet.

"What?!"

"I can't believe-"

"Well," Harry tried to interject, knowing that neither of them were paying any attention to him at this point, "I think we should probably call it a night-"

The door clicked open, and Tom entered the apartment. He frowned at the yelling coming from Harry's phone, and Harry ducked his head to hiss, "Good night, guys. Talk to you tomorrow."

"You didn't answer my question!" Hermione protested.

"Yeah!" Ron shouted. "Dobby didn't say whether he was going to take all this knitting-"

"Crotchet, Ron! It's-"

"-crotchet or whatever off my hands!"

"Good night!" Harry repeated, ending the call and quickly silencing his phone. It started vibrating immediately, and he shoved it into his pocket before looking for Tom and Dobby. The housekeeper was nowhere to be seen. Raising his eyebrows, Harry was about to start checking the other rooms when Tom stepped in his way.

"He left while your friends were arguing."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "Ah. Thanks."

Tom waved a hand dismissively and moved out of Harry's way.

Plopping on the sagging loveseat, Harry was startled to find that Tom had followed. "Uh, can I help you?"

"Did you find anything interesting?" Tom inquired, perching on the closest arm of the loveseat.

"What do you mean?" Harry scooted away to make room for the other boy, who shook his head when he noticed.

"You've been looking through my things."

"I have been accidentally finding piles of junk crammed into random nooks and crannies."

"How do you accidentally pull out an entire drawer and then look inside it?"

"I mean-"

Tom held a hand palm out to Harry, who cut himself off. "It's good to know that my roommate can't be trusted not to snoop-"

"Hey! That's-"

"-but at least you aren't a thief."

Harry frowned at him. "Was this a test?"

"It was certainly a test of my patience," Tom allowed, smirking when Harry snorted in response. "Now, in all seriousness, do your best to keep your curiosity to yourself. If it is not yours, then leave it alone."

Rolling his eyes, Harry found the remote and began channel surfing. "Yeah, whatever. Sounds good."

"Don't stay up too late," Tom warned. Harry glanced over, and he smiled blandly before sliding off the loveseat's arm and heading behind Harry. "We've got a test tomorrow, after all."

"Shit."

[the-bau-quinjet]

One Misunderstanding

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You struggle to fix Bucky's first impression of you. Bucky struggles with his own feelings.

Warnings: angst, Hydra things- like brainwashing and torture, a few curse words, panic attacks, anxiety

Word count: 5609

a/n: this idea came to me very suddenly, but I'm in love with it. Hopefully whatever I just wrote does it justice.

Masterlist

"Everyone, meet Y/N. She's the newest member of our little group, bringing in a whole new level of hacking and tech skills. Y/N, meet the team." Tony introduced you to everyone, eager to share your skills.

You turned to the group, getting ready to introduce yourself further, but instead tripped. You shrieked as you fell down the small set of stairs you were at the top of.

Sam, being the closest, caught you. "Good thing you've got tech skills." He chuckled as you righted yourself, firmly planting your feet on the ground.

"Haha, yeah. I'm not a big fan of violence." You winced as you said it, wishing you could take it back. You didn't want to get into the reasons as to why you don't like violence.

To your surprise, nobody asked why. You would have guessed they would have questions, but maybe they weren't interested in your past. They all had their own issues to deal with afterall.

"Eh, we don't need anymore people for fighting anyway. Welcome to the team." Steve greeted you warmly, as you would have expected from America's golden boy.

You gratefully shook his hand, glad to not have to talk about anything yet. Unfortunately, you tripped again when you tried to move back, falling into the one and only Bucky Barnes.

His hands steadied you, dryly laughing at your clumsiness. "You really are clumsy."

You did you best to not show how embarrassed you were. You couldn't deny the claim. Unless you were fighting, something you vowed to yourself to never do again, you were clumsy.

Being abducted and tortured by Hydra may have made you a competent fighter, but your aptitude for tripping over nothing never left.

"Right, sorry!" You greeted everyone else quickly, eager to get situated in your room. "I'm just going to unpack everything." You waved as you backed out of the room, bumping into the wall as you left.

-

You had just finished putting away your stuff when you heard a knock on your door.

"Come in!" You figured someone would have questions for you.

Unsurprisingly, Natasha was the one to step into your room. Of everyone there, you expected her to have learned about your past. It comes with the territory of being a spy.

"Hi, I was hoping to talk to you." Her tone was friendly, but clearly she was skeptical of you. Again, you weren't surprised.

"I thought you might. I'm assuming you read my file? Honestly, I thought everyone would." You laughed gently, shaking your head at yourself.

"I did. Your file is pretty bare bones though. I did some extra digging... Not everyone else is as nosy as me." She grinned, already pleased with your openness. "So, why'd you pretend to be clumsy?"

"Oh, it wasn't pretend. I've always been clumsy. When everything happened, and I learned how to fight, I thought my newfound agility would help. Turns out, it didn't. The only times I'm even the slightest bit coordinated are when I'm fighting or training, but I wasn't lying about that either. When I escaped, I promised myself I wouldn't hurt anyone else."

"Why join the Avengers at all then?" She looked curious, still unsure if she could trust you.

"I wanted to help people. I just didn't want to use the skills they gave me to do it. So, I learned how to code, figured I could help behind the scenes."

She smiled, letting down her guard. Clearly it would take some time, but you could easily see the two of you being close friends.

"So, nobody knows about what you went through?" She couldn't help but be curious about your past.

"Nope. I don't talk about it much, but it's not a secret. I'll answer anything you want to know." You smiled, eager to try and make a real friend here.

You spent the next few hours answering every question Natasha could think of. You told her about being abducted and experimented on.

That lead to even more questions, basically boiling down to the fact that you're not a super soldier, but you do have enhanced senses- and seemingly enhanced clumsiness for when you're not using them.

You told her about learning how to fight, and the punishments you would endure if you got it wrong. The two of you bonded over the shared experience.

Finally, you told her about how you escaped. When the Winter Soldier escaped, every Hydra effort possible was made to find him. That included you. Resources were spread thin, trying to cover more areas. It was the perfect opportunity for you to get out.

"Really, I owe my freedom to him. Even if he doesn't know anything about me." You felt the tears in your eyes, too many emotions swirling through you to keep it all in anymore. "Since then, I've learned everything I could about technology and coding, which pretty much brings you up to date."

Before she could ask anymore questions, there was another knock on your door. Quickly wiping the tears from your eyes, you called another "come in!"

Steve poked his head in the door, cautiously looking between you and Nat.

"I've been sent to stop the interrogation." He grinned, stepping farther into the room.

Nat rose from her spot on the bed, kissing him on the cheek while rolling her eyes. "It wasn't an interrogation. We were bonding."

"Yeah, over what?" He chuckled, trying to figure out what the two of you had in common.

Maybe it was the look in your eyes, or maybe Nat just likes knowing more than everyone, but she smiled conspiratorially at you before responding. "Girl stuff, babe. Just girl stuff."

You smiled as the couple left the room, grateful for not having to explain everything again.

-

Over the next few weeks, the team constantly teased you for your clumsiness. Well, not the whole team. Nat knew the truth, so she never said anything. Peter never teased you either, although that is likely due to the teasing he endures as well.

Weirdly enough, you bonded with the kid over it, eventually telling him about your past as well.

Normally you could shake it off. They clearly didn't mean anything by it. Except Bucky.

Whenever he said anything, he stared you down. His eyes felt like they were piercing your soul. You're not sure exactly why, but he didn't seem to like you much.

Which wouldn't be an issue if you didn't have an embarrassing crush on the man.

Really your infatuation started when you first escaped Hydra. His own escape lead to your freedom, so you admired him. When you found out he was working with the Avengers to help people, you admired him even more.

Watching him on missions is really what caused the infatuation to blossom into a full blown crush.

You, however, would adamantly deny that if anyone ever asked. Which is what just happened.

"What?!" You nearly tripped, again, with how quickly you turned to look at Wanda and Nat.

"You heard me." Nat stared at you, a neutral expression on her face. "When are you going to do something about your crush on Barnes."

"I, I don't- I don't have a crush on Bucky." You stuttered, a lackluster job at denying the truth.

"Please, Y/N. It's so obvious!" Wanda joined in.

The three of you hung out a lot around the compound. It was nice to have a support system to lean on when things got hard.

"Well, even if I did, which I'm not saying I do! He doesn't like me. I don't know what I did, but his eyes feel like daggers whenever we're in the same room." You started out strong, but quickly morphed into a sad resignation. It genuinely upset you that Bucky didn't like you.

"I think I might know what that's about..." Wanda bit her lip, immediately feeling guilty at having said anything.

"What!?" You eagerly turned to her, needing answers. You shuffled your way across the room, never fully rising from your seat on the ground.

"I don't know if I should tell you! I'm not even supposed to know, but sometimes his thoughts are really loud!" Her guilt multiplied.

"You have to tell me now! Then I can fix it!" You were practically begging at her feet from your position on the floor.

She looked at Nat, who just shrugged in return. "Not my place, although I would love to hear it."

"Ugh, fine. But you can't tell anyone I told you!" Wanda glared at the two of you, unable to say no to your pouting face. "The first day we all met you, do you remember what you said?"

Your face scrunched as you tried to remember. "I'm not a big fan of violence?"

She nodded, looking at you as if she just told you everything.

"So?" You asked incredulously, unable to follow her train of thought.

She rolled her eyes, having to spell it out for you. "He kind of took that personally..."

Immediately, you sunk completely to the floor. "Oh, god. Fuck! That's not what I meant at all! I just meant I don't personally like using violence! Shit, shit, shit." You continued to mutter to yourself as Nat and Wanda shared a look.

"Why don't you like using violence?" Wanda asked, intrigued by your reaction.

You thought back to your conversation with Nat the first day you got here. You told her it wasn't a secret, it just wasn't something you brought up.

"Can you just look in my head? I don't really wanna explain it, but I want you to know." You asked, glad to share you past with another friend.

Wanda nodded, seemingly doing nothing until realization dawned on her.

"Oh shit." She whispered, not even realizing she said it out loud.

"Yeah." You huffed out a dry laugh.

"Y/N... I'm so sorry." You smiled at her, having worked through most of the trauma already. "You totally have a crush on Barnes though."

That earned a real laugh. "Hey, that's not what you were in there for!"

"It's not my fault! You were thinking it really loudly!"

The three of you laughed together until you sunk back into a pit of despair.

"What do I do? How do I fix this?" You whined, laying back on the ground like a child.

"I think you just need to talk to him. Explain what you meant." Wanda shrugged, unsure of any other advice to offer you.

"She's right. Just talk to him." Nat nodded along as you whined on the floor.

-

After a few days, you finally worked up enough courage to try and talk to Bucky. He had just finished training, so you knew exactly where he'd be: in the kitchen.

Walking in, you were glad to see him pulling ingredients from the fridge.

"Hey Bucky, can I, um, talk to you for a minute?" You stuttered through the words, nervous about what he would say.

He barely looked at you, nodding his head for you to continue.

"I just, I wanted to apologize." You trailed off when his head snapped up.

"For what?" Well shit. How are you supposed to explain this one without ratting out Wanda.

"Oh, well, um... I just thought maybe I said- I did something that upset you. Uh, you just don't seem to like me very much, which is totally cool, you don't have to like me if you don't want to. I just didn't want it to be my fault... Fuck." That went horribly. Taking a deep breath, you started over. "I didn't mean it."

Bucky is looking at you like you have three heads. "Didn't mean what?"

"That I don't like violence."

"So you do... like violence." He'd somehow grown more confused.

"Well, no." You paused, unsure of how to explain yourself.

"Then you did mean it." His soul piercing stare is back.

"I-"

"It's fine, save it. Some people get to choose not to be violent." And with that, he left the kitchen, abandoning his post workout smoothie.

You stared at the doorway, in shock over how poorly that went. You stood there , unaware of the 25 minutes that had passed, trying to figure out how it could've gone better when Steve found you.

"Y/N? What are you doing?"

You didn't hear him, too lost in the memories. Memories of Hydra, forcing you to do things you never wanted to. This happened from time to time if something triggered you into remembering, otherwise you had a handle on your emotions.

"Y/N?" Steve said your name again, concern evident in his voice. He gently laid a hand on your shoulder, trying to get your attention.

Everything happened so fast after that. The feeling of someone's hand on your shoulder caused you to panic. With all the memories of Hydra in your head, your training kicked in instinctually.

You grabbed Steve's arm, pulling him closer to you for better leverage. Before he could question your moves, you flipped him, pinning him to the ground.

The second you made eye contact, you realized what just happened. Horror and regret flashed in your eyes.

In an effort to get off him, you threw yourself backward, knocking into a cart full of pots and pans. The clanging of metal hitting the ground echoed through the small room.

Steve sat up slowly, trying to register the turn of events. You sat in a ball on the floor, tears pooling in your eyes, mumbling apologies over and over again.

Sam, having heard the commotion from the pots and pans, ran into the kitchen ready to fight.

"What- What happened?" He asked in confusion, lowering his arms from their defensive position.

"I don't know." Steve looked at you, still trying to figure it out.

"Y/N?" Sam's voice was gentle, but it still startled you.

You jumped from the ground, rushing to help Steve get up. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to. I never wanted to hurt anyone again." Your breathing was picking up, short bursts of air leaving your lungs. Your hands were shaking as you pulled him from the ground.

Your panic increased as you took in their concerned expressions.

"Hey, look at me." Steve's Captain voice, came out, urging you to make eye contact. You followed orders, breathing rapidly, your whole body shaking.

"I'm going to touch you now, is that okay?" His words were gentle, but commanding, causing you to nod in response.

He pulled you into a tight hug, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You wanted to explain, to tell them what happened, but all that came out was a pitiful "Bucky".

"Do you want me to get Bucky?" Sam asked, trying to understand you.

The idea of Bucky coming back caused your panic to increase. You shook your head rapidly, "No! No no no no no." You kept repeating the word, shaking in Steve's arms.

"Okay! Okay, no Bucky." Sam reassured you, voice calm and soothing.

You’re not sure how long you stood like that. Sam moved around the kitchen, cleaning up the pots and pans you had knocked over.

When your breathing steadied, Steve asked, "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

You nodded, leading the two men to the couch in the adjacent common area. You sat for a minute, unsure of where to start.

"Why don't you just lead us through it all?" Steve suggested, still rubbing your back.

You nodded, grateful for the starting point. "I went to the kitchen to apologize to Bucky."

"What for?" Sam interrupted, already confused.

"Sam! Just let her talk." Steve muttered, slightly annoyed.

"Sorry!" He glared back at Steve before turning to you, "Sorry, please continue."

You couldn't help but laugh at their banter.

"Right, I wanted to apologize for what I said the first day I met you all. I realized how it sounded, so I wanted to try and fix it." You paused, waiting for the recognition to hit them.

It didn't take long. The two men nodded, silently urging you to continue.

"Honestly, Wanda told me that was why he always seems mad at me. You have to know, I never meant for it to come across that way! It's more of a personal, 'I don't want to be violent' than shunning others for doing what's necessary." You took a deep breath, not eager to relive the conversation.

"Anyway, I told him I didn't mean it. I just couldn't explain it right, and he got upset, which makes sense!" You turned to look between them, not wanting them to think you were insulting Bucky in any way. "I don't hold what he did against him. It wasn't his choice, and I completely understand that. I just couldn't put that into words when I was talking to him, and I made everything worse."

Tears popped into your eyes again, upset at what he must be going through. You weren't with Hydra for but a tenth of the time he was, and you didn't endure the same level of brainwashing.

"He said something about some people not being able to choose not to be violent, and then he left. I don't know how long I was standing in the kitchen replaying the conversation, but it brought up bad memories for me." You sighed again, working up the nerve to tell them everything.

"Wanda and Nat already know, but I guess it's your guys's turn. This was so much easier to just have Wanda read my mind." You laughed at your own joke, the two men sharing a concerned look.

"I was taken... by Hydra. They experimented on me, gave me enhanced senses, trained me to fight, and punished me when I did something wrong." Again, tears sprung into your eyes, occasionally falling down your cheeks.

"Why wasn't this in your file?" Steve questioned, more to himself than you.

"I haven't got a clue. I guess nobody knew about me? But, I escaped. They didn't brainwash me like they did Bucky, because I don't have the serum. Or, at least, I think that's why." You shook your head, refocusing on the important parts.

"When every available Hydra agent was tasked with searching for the Winter Soldier, I took it as on opportunity. Their resources were spread thin. I was able to getaway."

You went onto explain your reasoning for joining the Avengers as a tech specialist, trying to convey the same earnestness you did with Nat.

"You can ask Nat or Wanda too. Nat found out day one, Wanda a few days ago." You wiped your tears, hoping they believed you. "Actually, Peter knows too."

"I was stuck in all those memories when you came into the kitchen. I didn't even register that you were in the room, so when you touched me I freaked out. I never meant to hurt you!"

You looked at Steve fearful that he would be upset.

"Y/N, I believe you." You cried tears of relief at his statement, genuinely exhausted from the day. "It's not your fault, and you didn't hurt me. Just caught me off guard. You're surprisingly agile when you want to be." He tried to lighten the mood, glad to hear you laugh.

"Well, I train in the middle of the night sometimes. I- I want to be able to get out if I'm ever forced back there." Your voice was quiet, admitting a secret you hadn't even told Nat.

"We won't let that happen." The sternness of Sam's voice surprised you.

"Thank you." You wiped your tears a final time, looking between the two men. "Now, what do I do about Bucky?" You refocused your energy on fixing your relationship with the super soldier.

"He never would have said what he said if he had known." Steve started the conversation, defending his friend.

"I know. I don't hold it against him, I just wish I could explain. I get so nervous when he looks at me like that." You rambled, too tired to filter your thoughts.

"Like what?" Sam asked, eager for more information to tease Bucky with.

"Huh? Oh, I don't know. Like he can see into my soul." You deadpanned, earning a laugh from both men. "I just want him to like me." You nearly whined, upset by your poor relationship.

"Like you, huh?" Steve grinned. Nat and Wanda chose that exact moment to walk into the room, eagerly joining the conversation.

"Barnes? Did you tell him how you feel?" Wanda squealed with excitement.

You buried your head in your hands, avoiding the knowing looks the four of them were surely sharing. "Not exactly." You gestured to your head, hoping Wanda would figure it out and share with Nat.

"Ooh... It didn't go well, basically Barnes got upset, Y/N flipped Steve and had a panic attack, then told these two everything." Wanda explained to Nat quickly, trying not to make you relive it.

"We need a plan." Nat declared.

"No, I just need to learn how to have a conversation with the man." You rolled your eyes at yourself. "I'll try talking to him again." You went to leave the room, turning around to glare at them. "And none of you can say a word of this to Bucky."

-

Despite you request, Steve still tried to talk to Bucky.

"What's up with you?" Steve questioned, trying to subtly pry into Bucky's thoughts.

"Nothing. Why?" Bucky answered in a questioning tone, trying to figure out Steve's motives.

"I heard you talked to Y/N is all. How'd it go?" He gave up on the subtle approach pretty quickly, knowing Bucky wouldn't answer a question that wasn't asked.

"How did you even hear that, punk?" Bucky deflected.

"Not the point. Answer the question."

"Not great. I messed it up." Bucky sighed, annoyed at himself for barging out of the room. "She said wanted to apologize, that she didn't mean what she said." He ran his hands through his hair, struggling to explain where it all went wrong.

"Would've been fine if I could follow what she was saying. She was rambling about me not liking her, which you and I both know isn't true. Ugh, i've never been mad at her. I'm mad at myself! At Hydra for making me a monster! How could she ever like me if she doesn't like violence? My entire past is violent." He huffed, having worked himself up again.

"You're not a monster, Buck." Steve started gently.

"I know you think that." Steve gave him a pointed glare. "I know, okay? But what does she think?"

"Maybe you should try talking to her. You might be surprised by what you learn." Steve clapped him on the shoulder, trying to reassure him, before leaving the room.

-

Everytime you tried to talk to Bucky, something got in the way. The first time, he was called in for an emergency mission before you even got the word hello out.

The second time, Tony walked into the common area, completely oblivious to the tension, and put on a movie.

The third time, Steve and Nat interrupted you. You were just about to apologize again after an awkward greeting when the elevator doors opened. The sounds of the cheerful laughter and stolen kisses didn't really set the mood for confessing your past with Hydra.

The fourth, and final time, was the most embarrassing.

You walked into the room on a mission. You were going to talk to him, no matter who decided to walk in.

"Bucky, I really need to-" and you tripped on a toy Morgan left out, causing you to tumble to the ground. That would have been embarrassing enough, but there's more.

In your effort to get up, you tripped again, hitting your head on the coffee table, causing you to bleed profusely.

"Shit." You cursed yourself, holding your hand up to your bleeding forehead.

"Are you okay?" Bucky rushed to you from the other side of the table, concerned with the amount of blood spewing from your head.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Unfortunately, you chose that moment to jokingly reference your past.

Some of the people who tortured you had a sick sense of humor. Whenever they would hit you hard enough to make you bleed, they said something about only having one head. A play on words because of the greek serpent with multiple heads.

"Head wounds bleed a lot, I'm lucky I only have one." You froze instantly, unsure if he would have had a similar experience. Slowly, you looked up in an effort to make eye contact.

Bucky was also frozen in place. Clearly he understood the reference.

"Wh- where did you hear that?" Bucky struggled with his sentence, trying not to flashback to his time at Hydra.

"Oh my god. I'm so so sorry." You instantly started apologizing, trying to backtrack. "I really need to learn when to stop fucking talking." You said more to yourself than him.

"Where did you hear it?" He asked again, putting more power behind his words.

"Um, well, i've been trying to tell you for weeks now, but um, I also kind of, have, um, well, you see-"

"Just spit it out." There was the slightly miffed Bucky you were used to.

"I was taken. By Hydra. 9 years ago. Um, they forced me to learn how to fight. Tortured me if I did anything wrong. Forced me to do things..." You trailed off, realizing you didn't need to give him many details. He has first hand experience.

"Y/N, I-" You cut him off before he could say anything else.

"That's why I don't like using violence. I only know how to do that stuff because they made me learn it. I didn't want to use the skills they gave me." You took a deep, grounding breath.

"I don't blame you for anything you were forced to do. It wasn't your choice. You're not a violent person, and your past actions don't define who you are. You're here to help people. That's what you chose. That's who you are."

You made eye contact before you continued. "I've actually wanted to thank you for the longest time."

"For what?" He was incredulous, wildly caught off guard by everything you've said.

"The only reason I had an opportunity to escape was because 2 years ago, you escaped. If Hydra's resources hadn't been spread so thin trying to find you, I probably would've never got out. So thank you. For being strong enough to fight back."

You smiled at him, still unsure of how he was feeling.

"I... I'm so sorry." To say you were stunned was an understatement. What the hell could he have to be sorry about? Sure he was a little rude, but from your point of view he was completely justified in hating you.

"Bucky, you have no reason to be sorry. You didn't know, and I couldn't get out of my head enough to tell you. You just make me nervous." You clapped a hand over your mouth, shocked at having said what you just said.

You could see his face fall ever so slightly, causing you to jump back into your explanation.

"Not because I'm scared of you or anything! Hell, I could probably take you in a fight." You winked, trying to lighten the mood. It seemed to work, judging by the slight smirk on his face.

"I just, I've looked up to you for so long. Your determination to do good after everything you've been through is really inspiring. It's actually why I wanted to join the Avengers in the first place. I never would have-" You would have kept rambling if he hadn't stopped you.

"Y/N, I am sorry, and I do have reason to be. There's no excuse for what I said to you in the kitchen that day. Even if I didn't know, I threw everything you've been through back in your face. If someone had done that to me, I probably would have had a panic attack." He tried joking, but by the way you froze he could tell he struck a nerve.

"You had a panic attack? I'm so sorry! God, I just left you all alone and-"

It was your turn to cut him off. "Actually, I was kind of frozen in place until Steve touched me and I maybe threw him to the ground... Then I had a panic attack..." You smiled, trying to convey the joke. "So, I wasn't alone. Sam was actually also there. If anything, it made me better friends with both of them because I told them everything. So I have you to thank for that to." You playfully nudged his side.

He ran his hands through his hair, then down his face, clearly trying to deal with his own guilt.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up about it. You didn't know. It happened. We're good now, so we can move on." You smiled, trying to cheer him up.

"How are you so relaxed about all of this? You were tortured for years... I..." He was genuinely curious, trying to find a way to cope with his own pain.

"Well, even before that I always thought therapy could be helpful for me, so I really jumped in full force when I was free. Plus, if you can't joke about something, you haven't really moved on. Some days are harder than others, but I just try to appreciate the people I have now and the good experiences I've been lead to." You kept the tone light, trying not to get too emotional.

He just stared at you for a few minutes, making you questions everything.

"I mean, it's totally different for you though! I was only there for 7 years, you were forced into all that for like 10 times as long. I didn't mean to belittle-"

"I think you inspire me just as much as you say I've inspired you." He cut you off again, a small smile growing on your lips.

"Well, in the spirit of our newfound friendship, can I be totally honest?" You bit your lip, nervous about telling him the truth.

He looked nervous as well, but nodded anyway.

"I kind of, maybe, sort of have a crush on you." You watched his expression carefully, although there was really no need. His face easily gave away his surprise.

"You..." He stuttered, moving his fingers between the two of you. "Me? But, I was so mean!"

"What can I say, I saw through the facade... Well, really Wanda accidentally read your mind and told me why you were so upset around me when her and Nat teamed up to get me to tell you how I feel." You rambled again, realization dawning that you accidentally outed Wanda.

"But you can't tell her I told you that! She didn't mean to! She just said you think really loud sometimes and it's hard not to hear it! She did it to me too actually, I mean I told her she could look in my head so I wouldn't have to explain everything again, I know so lazy, and that's how she confirmed my crush on you." You said it all with wide eyes at a rapid speed, unable to control yourself around Bucky.

You slapped your hands over your mouth, forcing yourself to stop talking. Bucky looked on in amusement, slowly reaching to pull your hands away from your face.

"I won't tell her, if you get dinner with me tonight." He smiled cheekily, relishing in your blush.

"That's a deal I'm willing to make." You reached your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek before running to get ready.

***

Bonus:

Sam whined playfully as he looked at the high scores. "Whose username is 'God is a spoon' and how did they get so good at this game?"

He looked around the room, eying any suspicious candidates. Everyone denied it, throwing out accusations left and right.

It was another of Tony's team bonding nights and he chose VR games on the oculus. Obviously, Beat Saber was a top contender amongst the group.

You walked in with Bucky, unaware of the conversation going on, but immediately joining it.

"Peter! I bet it was him!" You playfully nudged the younger Avenger, having formed a close friendship in the early days. "What am I betting on?" Everyone laughed, happy to see you in a good mood after being so stressed for so long.

"Whose username is 'God is a spoon'." Sam chuckled after filling you in. You and Bucky settled on the couch, cuddling next to each other.

"Oh, that's me. Why?" You looked around curiously, trying to figure out what they wanted. "Is it a weird username? It was actually one of the catchphrase things in Just Dance on the switch, I didn't just think of it." You tried to justify yourself, causing more laughter.

"You?! How did you get all the highscores on this game? I thought you were the clumsy one."

You made an exaggerated face to show how offended you were, playfully swatting at Sam.

"I'll have you know, 7 years of Hydra 'training' and experimentation has its perks." You joked with the room. "One of them being I can beat your ass at pretty much any video game."

"Oh, you're so on." Sam smiled, glad he could joke around with you about it.

Meanwhile, Tony looked incredulously around the room, being the only one in the room who hadn't heard about your history, he was rightfully confused.

"I'm sorry, 7 years of WHAT?"

[ethanesimp]

AMAMI PER SEMPRE // E.T.

Pairing: Ethan Torchio x Fem! Reader

Summary: Ethan isn’t the brightest—or the best—when it comes to surprises, so his attempt at proposing to you causes a few misunderstandings...

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Swearing, a tiny tiny mention of death, some angst, other than that it’s pure fluff and me projecting my obsession with old books onto the reader.

Request: Ethan planning to propose and acting super nervous and strange (a bit angsty bc the reader doesn’t know what’s happening) and ending in pure fluff.

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

A/N: After more than a year of stepping foot into a bookstore for *cough* obvious reasons, I got to go to one yesterday. While looking at some second-hand books I had an idea that I decided to combine with @kawaiiwxnnabe​’s lovely request to bring you this. I hope you enjoy! <3 

Ethan had been mindlessly listening to Damiano sing Amandoti when the thought of marrying you first seriously crossed his mind. It had been a thing he’d thought of countless times ever since he started dating you, but it had never remained with as much intensity as it had that time. 

Damiano, who had noticed his friend’s face illuminate all of a sudden, had a talk with him that once and for all convinced Ethan that it was the right time and you were the right person. He didn’t sleep at all that night because he couldn’t stop thinking about what would be the perfect way to propose to you. It was no secret to him—or anyone who knew you—that you were a hopeless romantic. 

There was nothing that made you happier than simple and small details that came from the heart. That was the reason why you had developed an affinity towards old books. Not only did they have a particular and special scent that reminded you of vanilla and chocolate, but some had the luck—as you liked to call it—of being embellished by notes on margins or dedications on covers. Whether they were about love, sorrow, or maybe even hate, they still showed a small glimpse into the life of the person who had once owned it. Those notes told a story that would prevail even long after they were gone from the earth. 

Ever since he had noticed that small obsession of yours, Ethan had tried to help you expand your treasured collection by bringing you back books he found at antique stores from every country the band played in. 

During a visit to Spain after he initially had his stirring thought, Ethan took the chance to visit one of the second-hand shops he’d found during a night stroll with Victoria, who had disappeared into a bakery. His main goal was to find something different from the usual books he brought back for you. 

After he walked into the store and vaguely told the old lady at the counter about his idea in the best Spanish he could muster, she smiled warmly at him and guided him to the very back of the tiny shop where a beautiful and worn out bookshelf sat in all its glory, filled with as many books as it could hold. 

He immediately started searching around for the perfect book, but it proved to be harder than he initially thought it’d be. After searching around for more than an hour, all he had found was a collection of Edgar Allan Poe’s tales and poems with a heartbreaking note to someone’s dead lover. While it had almost brought him to tears and was a special thing he’d buy to give to you later, it wasn’t exactly the best thing to help him carry out his plan.   

Victoria walked into the shop when he was about to give up and, fully aware of his plan, started looking around without saying a word to him. They both searched around the messy piles of books for something. It didn’t take long for her to stumble across three books held together by a lilac satin ribbon. 

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, and Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë. All three contained a note on the very first page right under the title, but the last one stood out above the other two because, according to his basic knowledge of Spanish, it ended with the very question he wanted to ask ¿Quieres casarte conmigo? Or ‘Will you marry me?’. He bought all three of them after a huge smile and a thumbs up from Victoria.  

What he hadn’t expected was for them to remain hidden in a drawer he knew you never opened underneath piles of clothes. Ever since he came back from their small trip to Spain, Ethan had tried to ask the question about six times, but always ended up choking on his words and saying something else. In fact, the first time he ever tried, Ethan chickened out at the last second and ended up giving you the Edgar Allan Poe anthology instead.

You were still none the wiser to his plan even after he’d asked about your opinion on marriage a few times. Anyone would’ve probably caught up with what was going on already, but you were always so busy with things happening around you that you didn’t connect his awkward and nervous attitude with his questions.

You didn’t start giving his actions a second thought until one night… You had been cooped up in your office all day working on a new project you were supposed to present to your boss by the end of the week when you suddenly felt the urge to get up and walk around the house.

Ethan was casually sitting on the couch as he whispered unintelligible words into his phone. You supposed he was on a call with a friend or maybe his manager and was trying to be quiet to avoid disturbing you, but then he hung up the call with a panicked expression the moment he noticed you. After that, you started thinking back on the way he had been behaving ever since he returned and it all raised the suspicion that there was something strange going on. 

It didn’t get any better when he kept on acting weird. Simple things that he had allowed you to do, like using his phone to take pictures because it had a better camera than yours, now seemed to make him almost mad. He’d even snapped at you once when you tried to grab it to take a picture with him. Even if Ethan had apologized right away, it still didn’t calm you down, especially because he had gone as far as to change the password on it.

It almost felt like he was walking on eggshells around you and you didn’t like it one bit. Your relationship had always been about honesty and worked because of constant communication. Everything was just so strange that your mind couldn’t help but think of the worst.

You were an imaginative person who never had any difficulties when it came to envisioning things clearly. Unfortunately, that also applied to every negative thought that crossed your mind, so it wasn’t hard for you to start coming up with the worst explanations as to why he was acting so suspicious. It didn’t help much that he had been busier than normal because the band was wrapping up on their latest album, so you hadn’t had the opportunity to sit down and voice all your concerns, to ask if something was going on and if there was a way to fix it. 

The morning of your anniversary, you’d finally had enough. You had woken up, expecting to feel Ethan’s arm tightly wrapped around your waist and to receive a shower of kisses the moment he noticed you were awake, but no. There was no Ethan and the side of his bed was already neatly made.

Your disappointment only grew when he wasn’t in the kitchen or his small studio where he had his drums. You doubted he was in the house at all. 

It was a thing that wouldn’t have affected you much had he done it any other time, but with everything that had been going on as of late, you could only fear the worst. So, without being able to control yourself, you started making the worst conclusions. You’d always been fully aware that he loved you, but all the signs undoubtedly pointed at him meeting someone new… And maybe he was going to leave you for them as well… during your anniversary.

That was all you needed to break into tears. You climbed back into bed and cried for what seemed to be hours. Even since you got together, you had thought of him as your person, your forever. The thought of him leaving you broke your heart into tiny pieces.

Ethan arrived home only a few minutes after you’d buried yourself underneath all the blankets and cried out all your worries. When he was about to open the door to your bedroom, he stopped. Were you crying? 

He stood there in complete silence for a few seconds until he was more than sure that you were, in fact, crying. Ethan rushed inside and he felt his heart break at the sight of you looking so heartbroken, and it didn’t get any better when he heard a whimper come out of your mouth at the sight of him. You cuddled deeper into the bedsheets and turned away from him.

Ethan sat on your side of the bed and, as delicately as possible, he cupped your face into his warm hands and wiped your tears with his thumbs, “Amore,” He said in a quiet voice, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You tried to turn away from him, but his grip on your face stopped you from doing so. You placed one of your hands on top of his and gave it a firm squeeze. No part of you was ready to have that conversation with him because that was going to be it and you were going to have to watch him leave…

So, with a lot of courage, you spoke the first words that came to mind, “You know, i-it’s okay if you’ve found someone else,” You caressed his cheek softly as more tears started spilling down your face, “You can tell me if you have.”

His eyebrows furrowed at your words and the only thing he could do was shake his head no, “What? Found someone else? What would make you say such a thing dolcezza?”

Then, before you could even answer, realization hit him like a ton of bricks and he felt like the stupidest living being on the face of the Earth. He pinched his nose and sighed, annoyed at himself.

“Fuck… I’m so fucking stupid. Please don’t ever think of something like that. I was just… I-I,” Clueless as to what to say, Ethan pressed his lips against yours to kiss you slowly, hoping it spoke more than his words ever could. He could still taste a trace of the salty tears that had fallen on your lips and he couldn’t help but shed a few of his own at the thought that he’d been the one to make you cry.

After pulling away, Ethan pressed his forehead to yours and brushed his nose against yours while his arms held you as close as possible, “Will you close your eyes for just a second, amore mio? I promise everything will make so much sense soon.”

You nodded and kept your eyes closed as you felt him get up from the bed. You heard him open and close a few drawers, and look around for something for a while before he sat back on the bed. Ethan grabbed your hands in his and slowly slipped the three small books into your grasp.

You opened his eyes after a small sound of approval from him and smiled when you saw the three old books held together by a ribbon and the pretty pink rose that had been carefully been slipped into the first book and the ribbon.

You gently removed the flower and placed it on your side. Then you undid the simple knot and picked up the first book, “Wuthering Heights?” You questioned.

He nodded, “Yeah… At least I think that’s it. I hope I didn’t bring back some sketchy book or some shit,” Ethan scratched his neck and you giggled as you opened it on the first page. Your fingers brushed over the letters neatly written down in fountain pen.  

After clearing your throat, you started reading the first dedication out loud. Since your Spanish wasn’t exactly the best either, you had to pause every once in a while to translate all the words, “May 17, 1850… My dearest Helena, I hope this book reaches you in great condition, being apart from you is one of the hardest challenges I have ever had to face, one of the most painful as well. I hope you can find me in between these pages as you read and remember how much I love you, remember how much I long to be back in your arms and kiss your lips. Sincerely, Alejandro.”

You closed it and placed it back on the bed before opening the second book and doing the same thing with the third, “January 24, 1855. Carolina, nothing I’ve ever experienced has gotten close to being as terrible as not having you in my arms. Apologies are overdue… long overdue. Words have never been my strongest suit, yet I still hope I can coherently express just how much I love you, all of you. I’m afraid I’m already too late since you will soon be betrothed to someone else and there will be nothing I can do by then.

 “Still, I hope with everything in my being that this arrives sooner so you’re aware of how sorry I am. I hope you remember that I would do anything you asked without a single complaint just to watch that lovely smile I adore so much appear on your face. If you ever come back to me, I promise with every fiber of my being, and I’ll be dammed if I don’t keep my promise, that I will leave everything behind and escape with you. Anywhere, any time. So with that, I ask a question that will hopefully have a yes as an answer. Will you marry me? With love, Javier.”

Before you could close it, Ethan stopped you and timidly asked for you to open the book on the very last page. You did it and looked back at him with confusion at the sight of his writing on the page, “Read this one out loud for me. Will you Y/N?” You nodded and mumbled a small ‘of course’ before clearing your throat to get rid of the knot that had formed. 

“October 21, 2025… Y/N, my one true love, I’ve always hoped to make a gesture that will remind you of your treasured books. I’ve never been one great with words spoken out loud, so I sought inspiration from those before me who were just as in love with someone as I am with you. Ever since I met you I dreamt of one day settling down with you, of having our small home in the countryside as you’ve always dreamed of. Maybe even doing some of those cloying gestures people seem to do in fiction and dedicate to you the most beautiful love poems I lay eyes on. 

“I’ve wondered for a while how I could ever take the step that would bring me closer to that goal, yet every time I try, words seem to get stuck in my throat with no way out and I end up in square one all over again. It is with this note that I hope to finally take a step in the right direction because I know you’re it for me. You’re my person, my forever, and there’s nothing I would love more than to share my life with you. Sei la mia migliore amica e il mio unico vero amore. Ti chiedo di accettare il mio amore, il mio nome e tutto quello che sono.” (You are my best friend and my one true love. I ask you to accept my love, my name, and everything I am.)

When your eyes spotted the four words that followed, you slowly lowered the book, “Will you marry me?” You both said at the same time, although yours sounded more like an unintelligible mumble. Only then did you notice him down on one knee right in front of you. He held a velvet box with one of the most beautiful rings sitting inside of it 

A hand went to cover your mouth as tears started falling down your face. This time, happy and free of worry. You could only nod repeatedly, overcome with pure joy as your heart swelled with love.

He slowly slid the ring into your finger and grabbed your face to kiss you once again, “I’m so sorry I made you think something else was going on. I just kept backtracking every time I tried to tell you. Not because I was regretting the decision but because I didn’t want to lose you.”

You shook your head as a silent way of saying it was alright and brushed his hair back with your fingers, “The important thing is that you’ve done it and you’re not going to lose me, no matter how hard you try. I’ll always be right here because I love you and I’ll always be yours.”

[froggie-recs-fics]

Fic Roundup (up to 9/26/21)

I'm gonna start collecting fics I've read recently to recommend them, because making trope lists takes too long and many fics fall by the wayside. Let me know if you like this new format!

The fandoms in this list are as follows: Marvel (SamBucky, HTP, SpideyPool, WinterHawk, WinterIron, Stony, Stucky, SpiderShield), DCU (Bane/Blake), Inception (Arthur/Eames), Teen Wolf (Sterek).

A * signifies a particular favorite (though I love all these fics)

Marvel

Sam/Bucky

double back by flowermasters (E, 12K, Post-Endgame, Time Loop, Time Travel)

Sam gets stuck in a time loop. In 1943.

Things could be worse, but they could certainly be better.

Companion piece here: quick time

I'll explain everything to the geese by napricot (Post-Endgame, E, 50K, Sam can talk to birds)

Bucky is so competent that it hurts my feelings is not a rational complaint to have about a person, and yet, after a year of being Captain America and partnering up with Bucky for the new and improved, post-Blip Avengers, that’s kinda how Sam’s feeling.

It’s not great. It maybe leads to Sam making some rash, ill-advised decisions like claiming he has a previously undisclosed superpower, and then getting caught in a web of lies when he ends up actually developing that surprisingly inconvenient superpower. Talking to birds had seemed like a harmless superpower, but it turns out that birds have a lot of opinions, and they don’t hesitate to tell Sam about them, especially when it comes to his supposedly subpar courting skills. Which is ridiculous, because Sam isn’t courting Bucky. Right?

Rumlow/Bucky

**blueprints for a better world series by itallstartedwithdefenestration @astralhux (CATWS, Post-CATWS, Noncon, E, 115K, Dark Main Character)

When Pierce discovers the asset is no longer capable of getting himself hard during recreational use, he tells Rumlow to figure out what the problem is, and to fix it. The solution turns out to be more complicated than anyone expected.

I can't recommend this series enough

Peter/Wade

*Dead Men Walking series by doctorestranged @lazystrawberrymilkshakes (E, 235K, Identity Porn, Slow Burn)

When a series of murders take place, Peter Parker goes undercover in Sister Margaret’s to get intel on Tony Stark’s prime suspect: Deadpool. Peter goes in hoping to get enough information so that Spider-Man can save the day, but like everything in Peter’s life, it becomes a bit more complicated than that and it soon becomes apparent that he might not be the best fit for the job.

All About Chemistry by TwiceBakedPotato @sedatedkoala (No Powers AU, M, CNTW, 74K, Teacher-Student Relationship, Slow Build)

After serving his 20 years in the Marine Corps, Wade Wilson is cashing in his GI Bill and going back to college. He feels like the old man on campus, but that doesn't matter. He likes his classes. He likes learning. And he especially likes his Chemistry professor with the messy brown hair.

Clint/Bucky

Making Me A Habit by Kangofu_CB @kangofu-cb (No Powers AU, T, 20K, Pet Store, Slow Burn, Pining, Misunderstandings)

Bucky is a disabled vet struggling with reintegrating into civilian life. He has a routine and a rhythm, and he doesn't like to let anything - big or small - disrupt it. That all changes the day Bucky finds himself inside CATastrophe, the local pet rescue, recovering from a panic attack in the back room of the shop.

He’s used to walking by the place, not visiting, but the next thing Bucky knows, he’s hanging signs and being used as a climbing tree for a bunch of freshly-acquired kittens. And he just...keeps going back. First for the kittens, then for the disaster shop owner who rescues actual kittens from actual trees and teaches archery as a side-gig, and eventually because he’s hopelessly in love.

(Clint was in love before Bucky ever walked in the door.)

*Nameless by AvaKelly (Post-CATWS, M, 101K, Time Travel, Time Loop, Slow Burn)

A gun is pointed at him before he can even move from his position, the Soldier's metal arm steady in its aim. Clint sighs.

"Nemo," Clint says. "It's tattooed on your wrist, right here," he lifts his right hand and taps his left index finger where his palm ends.

The Soldier's eyes widen. "How do you know this?"

"I put it there."

Glitter, G-Strings and Other Mission Hazards by flawedamythyst @flawedamythyst (T, 16K, Undercover, Stripper Clint)

“Which is why you need me to shake my booty for cash,” said Clint.

“Precisely,” said Coulson. “You’re the only agent we have who wouldn’t need additional training in the skills of an exotic dancer to take on the mission, and we want to get someone in there as soon as possible.”

Clint nodded, shutting the file. “Okay, awesome. I’ll dig out my sequined g-string.”

“You’ll have full access to requisition any costumes you might need,” said Coulson.

A mission requires Bucky to be Clint's back-up as he goes undercover as a stripper, which gets more difficult with every new costume he comes out in.

Paternal Error by EVVS @skylarkevanson (Post-CATWS, T, 33K, Kid Fic, Established Relationship)

Bucky has never once thought of being a parent. Not since the Winter Solider happened.

Until he falls in love with Clint Barton. And that idiot just keeps collecting children for his flock.

Now Bucky has to pretend like he's good at parenting.

Bucky/Tony

Forms of Love by bear_bell (Post-CACW, E, 33K, Split Personalities)

Months after the Avengers' dispute in Germany, the team returns to the US and moves back into the tower. As always, everyone pretends that nothing happened. Tony is just fine with this. He's used to pretending, and he'll be damned if he lets any of them see him flinch.

Tony's the bad guy, after all. He's used to it. He's fine with it. He's good at it.

Only now, there's something far worse loitering around the tower - The Winter Soldier. No one notices the guy at first, but when they do, Tony figures that he should have the soldier's back.

Birds of a feather should flock together, and the bad guys should start a book club.

Steve/Tony

While You Were Sleeping by betheflame @betheflame (No Powers AU, M, 65K, While You Were Sleeping AU)

It's been years since Steve Grant Rogers Drysdale has spoken to his twin, Ransom. So it was quite a shock when he was summoned to a hospital and found out that Ransom was in a coma.

Even more shocking? That Ransom is engaged. To Tony Stark.

Steve/Bucky

The Road Goes Ever On And On by PipGraham (Omegaverse AU, M, Noncon, Graphic Violence, 20K, Road Trip, Pre-Serum Steve, Past Domestic Violence)

When Brock's continued domestic abuse puts not only Steve's life in danger, but also that of his unborn pup, he flees into the night with just a small backpack of clothes and almost no money to his name.

Steve quickly runs into trouble as he tries to embark on a 3-day cross-country bus journey back home to New York City.

He meets a kind veteran when he most needs a helping hand.

Just Words by LadyRazzle (crimegimp) @ladyrazzle (Pre-CATFA, Soulmate AU, T, 2K, Fluff)

Inspired by that now legendary post: "soulmate AU where you wake up on your 18th birthday with the first words your soulmate will say to you tattooed on your body so you’ll know them when you meet them." Well what if they appear the moment you turn 18, rather than just the day? And what if by the time you turn 18, you'd already fallen in love?

Bucky wasn’t eager to discover what the words said. He already knew what he wanted them to say. He always had.

Peter/Steve

Forgetting It's There by spinstitcher (stygian) (NR, 8K, Crack, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn)

“You’re Captain America,” he blurts out.

“What?” says Captain America, looking a little wide-eyed. He casts a nervous glance at the girl at the counter – he has nothing to worry about there, she’s rocking out to her iPod and could care less what they’re talking about – and says, “No, uh, Steve, it’s just, I’m Steve.”

“Right,” says Peter, and then because his brain-to-mouth filter had apparently been completely destroyed in the fight on Oscorp Tower: “Hey, your butt really is as tight as it looks on TV.”

DCU

Bane/Blake

7 Deadly Ass(as)sins by teacuphuman @teacuphuman09 (AU, E, 23K, BDSM)

Bane and Barsad own a sex shop and John needs a job.

Straws by Menirva (Bane/Blake/Barsad, AU, E, 38K, BDSM)

John works in a smoothie shop.

He has a knack, a second sense if you will, for being able to look at a person and know what they're going to order. It's not the most spectacular gift in the world but he likes being able to figure people out and he's never wrong.

Except for this scruffy asshole who is clearly just ordering the wrong thing to fuck with him.

How is he even finishing an extra-large?

Inception

Aurthur/Eames

Rough Trade by Whisky (whiskyrunner) @whiskyrunner (AU, E, 23K, Internalized Homophobia)

Arthur is an investment banker. He is professional and efficient. He's a halfway decent cook. He's totally independent and has been since the age of eighteen. Maybe he's tired all the time because he works about ninety hours a week which is twice what normal people do, but he's rich and he's competent at his job. He's almost thirty, and already a success.

And there are some things Arthur is not. For instance: Arthur is not gay.

Lucky by earlgreytea68 @earlgreytea68 (M, 37K, Kid fic)

Arthur finds a baby.

Teen Wolf

Stiles/Derek

Cut to the Bone by standinginanicedress (Omegaverse AU, E, 112K, Secret Relationship, Enemies to Lovers kinda)

“Not that it’s any of your god damn business, but my name is Stiles. Do you need something?”

The alpha grins. All teeth, shiny white, straight as an arrow. He’s got this sculpted perfection to him that Stiles is sure has worked on all the omegas he’s ever encountered before, but Stiles stands his ground and narrows his eyes. “A date.”

Stiles looks him up and down, slowly, from the black shoes on his feet, to his uniform khakis and blazer littered with pins, to his face. He frowns, makes a face, and says, “pass.”

Cornerstone by Vendelin (Human AU, E, 83K, Marine Derek, Blind Stiles, Friends to Lovers)

Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

Stand Fast in Your Enchantments by DevilDoll, Rahciach (AU, Graphic Violence, E, 76K, Captivity, Feral Derek)

"Stiles knew damn well what a pissed-off wolf sounded like, and every hair on the back of his neck was telling him that somewhere in this room was a very pissed-off werewolf." An AU in which Derek is feral, Stiles is magical, and they eat a lot of fast food.

The Payoff Pitch by Leslie_Knope (Sports AU, E, 83K, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers)

Derek is on the cusp of his second season with the LA Dodgers, and as the reigning runner-up Rookie of the Year, the pressure’s on him to become the team’s star pitcher and lead them to the playoffs for the first time in five years. He’s trying to deal with the burden of expectations and really has zero desire to spend any extra time or energy on anything that isn’t baseball.

But then he meets Stiles.

[blazingparker]

tony finds out that peter wants to propose. marriage = very scary thing for tony. tony panics. peter mishears and thinks the issue is that tony doesn’t want to marry HIM. [misunderstandings + breaking up then making up + angst w/ a happy ending].

thanks sooo much for this prompt, anon!!!! i changed it a little so they didn’t break up but they do have a big fight and make up. It’s also a little shorter than i wanted since i can’t really type still due to my wrist injury but i didn’t want to make you wait any longer. i really hope you enjoy this!

read it on ao3!

---

But Your Fears Get in the Way

Peter was going to propose.

Holy shit, Peter was going to propose.

It wasn’t like Tony had meant to overhear, okay? It wasn’t his fault Peter had assumed Tony was in the lab, not in the living room when he got back from patrol.

“Yeah, Ned, I got the ring. No, I don’t know when yet. I’ll let you know. I just-I want it to be perfect, you know?”

Tony had reacted wonderfully, if you must know. He most certainly did not pretend to be asleep on the couch so Peter wouldn’t know he’d overheard, and he definitely did not avoid his boyfriend as much as possible in the following days. It was a shitty move, and Tony knew it, but he didn’t know what else to do. He wasn’t marriage material. What he and Peter had - it worked. If they changed it, if they got engaged, Tony would ruin it. He knew that, and he needed Peter to know that before he lost the best relationship he’d ever had because of his own inability to stop fucking up.

It was just a question of how to bring it up to Peter without breaking his heart and ruining everything anyway. Which was why he’d asked Rhodey to come over and help him out. Tony wasn’t the greatest with words and knew he needed to practice with someone before going out and essentially tell his boyfriend ‘Hey, I overheard you the other day. Sweet gesture, but I’m not marriage material.’

“Tony.”

Tony looked up from the Iron Man gauntlet he was in the middle of repairing to find his best friend standing in the middle of the lab, looking very irritated.

“Hey honey bear,” Tony snarked, sitting back in his chair and setting his tools down.

“You do realize you asked me to come over here, right?” “Course I do.”

“Well, then maybe next time you could put down your toys the first time I call your name instead of the fifth.” Rhodey gave Tony a little smirk and crossed the room, sitting down in a chair across from Tony. The genius ran a hand over his face, looking genuinely apologetic - a rare occurrence for him.

“Sorry, Rhodey. I just-this has got me really shaken up,” he admitted. Rhodey tried not to let his shock show, knowing Tony would shut down and shut him out if he looked like he might be mocking him or not taking him seriously.

“You said Peter wants to propose?” He asked, Tony nodding to confirm the information he’d shared over the phone. Rhodey whistled lowly and blew out a breath, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s big stuff, man.”

“I know it’s big stuff!” Tony almost yelled, reining it back in at the unimpressed look the other man shot in his direction. “I just-I can’t let him. I can’t let him propose. But if I stop him beforehand, I’ll break his fucking heart and he’ll know I overheard him the other night. If I say no, that’d be even worse. If I say yes, I’m just prolonging the inevitable break-up.”

“Why would it be an inevitable break-up? Peter loves you. You’ve been together for four years, Tony. That’s plenty of time for someone to decide their relationship is or isn’t going to work and then act accordingly. Clearly he loves you a whole lot if he’s bought the ring and everything like you said.” Rhodey tried to keep any judgment out of his tone, wanting to understand and not aggravate his friend.

“Because that’s what I do!” Tony exclaimed, standing up so fast his chair rolled backwards across the lab floor. “I ruin relationships. It’s honestly a fucking miracle this has lasted this long, you saw how Pepper and I were before.” Rhodey didn’t disagree - Tony and Pepper had been a hot mess. “I ruin relationships, but I haven’t yet with Peter! So everything needs to just-just stay the same so that I can continue to not fuck it up. For once in my life.”

There was silence after that, Tony’s chest heaving as he breathed in heavily and tried to calm himself down. Rhodey stood from his chair as well, crossing the room to his best friend and gently placing a hand on his shoulder. Tony almost seemed on the verge of tears, something he’d only seen a handful of times before.

“I don’t think you could ruin what you and Peter have,” Rhodey said, holding up a hand when Tony immediately opened his mouth to argue. “But if you’re that worried about it, tell him.”

“Tell him what?” Tony asked, and Rhodey took a second to think about how to phrase his next words. He thought Tony’s fears about ruining his and Peter’s relationships were uncalled for, but they didn’t come from nowhere. There was real fear there that needed to be addressed. Both men were so deeply engrossed in their own thoughts and their conversation that neither noticed the lab door easing open slightly and a head full of fluffy brown curls peeking in.

“Tell him you can’t,” Rhodey eventually suggested. “Just-tell him everything you told me. Talk it out with him. Tell him you’re not ready for marriage yet but that you still love him.”

“I’m not ever going to be ready.”

“Then tell him that, Tony. Tell him you can’t marry him. But tell him, not me.”

The two men jumped at the sound of the lab door slamming shut and swift footsteps running down the hall.

“Who was that?” Tony asked, thoroughly confused.

“It seems Mr. Parker is leaving the building in quite a hurry,” JARVIS spoke up. Tony’s entire chest filled with dread and the room was suddenly entirely too cold. Peter had heard. How much had he heard? Didn’t matter, he heard enough to just leave. He’d done it again, he’d ruined the one good thing he had left--

“I’ve ruined this already,” Tony wheezed, finding it difficult to breathe. Rhodey’s hands landed on his arms, his best friend coaching him through taking some deep breaths.

“You didn’t. We both made a pretty huge mistake, but we can fix it. Let’s go talk to him, we can explain.” Tony shook his head, placing his hand on Rhodey’s and removing it.

“No, I need to fix this. Thanks though.” He gave Rhodey a weak smile before rushing out the door, following JARVIS’ directions up to the penthouse.

-

“Peter!” He called out as the elevator doors opened. He heard shuffling in their bedroom and ran over to the doorway.

Peter was packing a bag. That feeling of dread in Tony's chest intensified as he took in the scene.

“What?” The younger man asked coldly, shoving clothing into his suitcase in a hurried manner that was so unlike him. Usually he treated his things with more care, folding each item carefully before placing it gently in Ben’s old suitcase.

“Just-stop packing, okay?” Tony walked over to where the suitcase rested on the bed and gently tried to block Peter from placing another shirt inside. Thanks to Peter’s ridiculously good reflexes, he was unsuccessful.

“Why? So I can keep listening to the bullshit you and Rhodey were spewing downstairs?” Peter asked, and Tony sighed as he continued to pack. Eventually, the billionaire just started taking the clothes back out of the suitcase, something Peter squawked at. For a few moments, there was just a flurry of movement as Tony took clothing out and Peter rushed to put it back in.

“Knock it off!” Peter cried out after a few moments, catching Tony’s wrists in his hands and holding them tightly.

“Then hear me out,” Tony said, trying to stay calm for them both. On the inside, though, he was terrified. And maybe a little turned on by Peter manhandling him like that--

Focus, Tony.

“Fine,” Peter practically growled as he released Tony’s wrists and took a step back from his suitcase. “Talk, then.”

“First of all, what you heard was taken wildly out of context,” Tony started, and Peter immediately scoffed and rolled his eyes. The younger man crossed his arms over his chest defensively, taking a few steps back from his boyfriend and fixing him with an incredulous look.

“Oh, so you weren’t talking about how much you don’t want to marry me? How you can’t?” He spat out, the words seemingly spearing directly through Tony’s heart.

“Peter-”

“Don’t Peter me. If you didn’t want to marry me, you could have just fucking said so!” Peter said, clearly distressed but trying to hold back tears. “No, but instead-instead, you strung me along for four goddamn years only to tell your friend that you can’t marry me instead of telling me! Do you not see how fucked up that is, Tony?! The second you overheard me you should have come to me instead of avoiding me like the plague! I thought I’d done something wrong, but I guess the only thing that I did wrong was loving you too much.”

“I-”

“No, I’m not finished,” Peter said, pointing at him. Something in his gaze, in the way he held himself in such a defensive way that he’d never been around Tony before, made the genius shut up. “Four years is plenty of time to tell me you don’t want to marry me. Plenty of time for you to let me go so we can both move on. Why didn’t you? What did you think was going to happen? That we were just going to stay boyfriends forever? Newsflash, Tony, in adult relationships there’s this thing called commitment.”

“I have been wholly committed to this relationship for four years, Parker,” Tony growled, more than a little bit of anger peeking through the fear at those words.

“Congratu-fucking-lations! You’re not acting like an adult though, are you? Committing to a relationship means commitment for the future, too! Not just right now.” Peter yelled - he was yelling now - and something inside Tony broke.

“I never said I didn’t want to marry you!” He yelled, and both of them fell into a shocked silence. Tony never raised his voice - not at Peter, anyway. Sure, they’d fought before, but Tony was usually calmer and when he did get angry he never yelled like that. They both took a few breaths before Tony ran his hands over his face and continued.

“I never said the problem was you,” he rephrased, voice softer now as he glanced down at the floor. “I’m the problem, Peter.”

“You’re the-”

“No, stop. Just let me talk.” Tony’s voice was exhausted, defeated even. He knew this was coming, despite Rhodey telling him otherwise. Despite hoping his days of setting relationships on fire and then watching them burn were over.

“Okay,” Peter agreed in an equally quiet tone. He felt slightly bad for screaming at Tony like that, but given what he’d overheard it had felt justified at the time. Now, after seeing his boyfriend look so utterly broken like this? He wasn’t so sure.

“This,” Tony gestured between them. “This is what I do. I cause problems. My relationships start out great and then inevitably I fuck it up somehow. A suit comes to protect me from a nightmare. I forget an anniversary because I’m too busy tinkering in the lab.” He finally met Peter’s eyes. “I take my fears of losing you to my best friend instead of to you, like I should have.” Something in Peter’s eyes softened slightly at that last admission, and Tony swallowed before continuing.

“Four years with you isn’t enough, Peter. Our whole lives won’t be enough. Of course I want to marry you. But I can’t. I can’t marry you because then when I fuck up and lose you then we’re both going to be in for a world of hurt. It’ll be easier if we just stay like this.” Peter took in a breath like he wanted to say something but Tony kept talking. “I’m not saying dating is going to make it so I never screw this up, but it’ll at least let me enjoy this a little longer. Enjoy you a little longer.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then another.

After a few moments, Peter walked up to Tony and gently took his hands in his own, rubbing his thumbs over calloused knuckles.

“You’re an idiot,” he whispered fondly, and Tony tried to jerk his hands out of Peter’s grip. His boyfriend was too fast, though, holding on steadily and continuing those soft touches.

“That’s not news,” Tony tried to joke, but his voice was weak.

“You’re not going to lose me,” Peter murmured.

“I just did! Almost. You were packing!”

“Because I thought my boyfriend didn’t want to marry me. I thought-” Peter broke off, taking in a shaky breath as tears came to his eyes. “I thought you wanted marriage, but not with me. Why would I stay and make us both go through a relationship where neither one of us is ever going to get what we really want?”

Tony could almost kiss his stupid, selfless boyfriend. Of course Peter fucking Parker would put his own heart into the line of fire to make sure Tony got what he really wanted.

“Now that I know that that’s not what you meant, I’m here to stay. Of course I’m here to stay. I love you, Tony.” Peter reached up and pressed a soft kiss to Tony’s cheek, squeezing his hands lightly.

“So you understand why I can’t?” Tony asked, and Peter rolled his eyes. The action was more fond now than it was angry.

“No, I don’t. But we’re going to work on it. As long as what we both want most is each other, then we can work it out. I’m not going to let your fears get in the way of us.” Peter smiled sweetly up at Tony, who felt slightly dizzy. Peter wasn’t leaving him. They were going to be okay.

“I’ll work on it,” he promised, voice barely more than a whisper.

“We will,” Peter amended. Tony simply nodded before leaning down, capturing Peter’s lips in a fierce kiss. He finally pulled his hands free of that soft grip and wrapped them around the smaller man, tugging him into his chest and holding him close.

As they slowly broke apart, Tony barely held back a whine and tried to chase after Peter’s lips. His boyfriend just laughed, placing a gentle finger on Tony’s lips.

“Wanna help me get my clothes off the bed?” He asked, and the older man groaned at the thought of cleaning up.

“Do we have to?” He asked.

“Well, we can’t exactly have fantastic make-up sex if the bed is covered in all my clean clothes,” Peter pointed out, smirking as he mouthed along Tony’s neck before pulling away.

Tony, ever the genius, simply ripped the comforter off the bed and tossed it aside, revealing sheets with no clean clothing in the way.

“Fixed,” he crowed, picking Peter up and placing him on the bed. The laughter that rang out in their bedroom as he climbed on top of his boyfriend was something Tony knew he would cherish.

They had things to work through, that was for sure. But it was like Peter said. As long as they both wanted each other, Tony had a feeling they would figure it all out.

[homerforsure]

Whumptober No. 5

betrayal / misunderstanding / broken nose

(Hockey AU)

***

He’d always thought the night Jay took the picture would be the worst of it.

Buck’s hands were clutching the rails of Jay’s iron headboard, where Jay had wanted them, where Jay had placed them after stripping Buck of his clothes, saying “Don’t let go.” His slow, sexy, predatory smile was the last thing Buck saw before the silky black blindfold was tied in place. Jay was gone after that, climbing off the bed, telling Buck how good he looked and what he thought he might do and Buck had arched into the words until he was begging to be touched.

“Be patient,” Jay had purred, appeasing Buck with a single finger drawn shiveringly down his thigh. Buck could feel that he’d climbed back onto the bed, but Jay was too far away and he wasn’t teasing; he just wasn’t there. Stretching out longer on the mattress, trying to find him, he’d said, “What’s going on up there?”

Then the flash went off, the bright light cutting through the thin fabric of the blindfold. Jay swore, “Shit. Fuck,” and when Buck let go of the bed with one hand (one hand because maybe he misunderstood, maybe it was fine, maybe he’d laugh and put his hand back and they’d-)to push the tie away, he’d seen Jay, crouched above him with his phone in his hand.

If he’d asked, Buck might even have agreed. He liked posing. He liked having his body appreciated. But Jay’s expression was the alarm of being caught red-handed and Buck knew, knew with a sinking feeling of dread and betrayal, that Jay wasn’t just taking a memento to savor later. He was taking a picture of Rangers center Evan Buckley, naked, smirking, and vulnerable, to use exactly the way those kinds of pictures get used.

Buck forced Jay to delete the photo, made him prove that he’d done it, and then had somehow managed to get himself dressed and down to the street to get a ride without throwing up. His face burned the whole drive home and for half of the night.

And that was the worst of it until five years later. In a new city. When Buck was finally playing the way he’d always known he could. When he was finally earning the respect of his team and the hockey world at large. When he started thinking he might stay. That was when the anonymously authored post was retweeted and reblogged and shared and gleefully discussed on all corners of the hockey internet.

MY WILD NIGHT WITH AN NHL ALL STAR

The Good, the Bad, and the Kinky

His agent’s was the first text he saw when he got done with practice: “Do NOT respond yet. Call me first.”

It had taken another couple messages before Buck realized what he wasn’t supposed to respond to and in the meantime, the texts kept rolling in. Half of them from numbers he didn’t even have saved in his contacts.

“Dude, is that shit true?”

“Are you okay?”

“Do you know who it is?”

“You dog 😜”

“You never told me you were into that 👀”

“Ignore it, Buck.”

“We’re all with you.”

“Fuck that guy.”

“Hey if you need something to take your mind off of it💋💋💋”

“Evan, Mike from the Tribune. If you want to set the record straight, please give me a call.”

From the looks on the faces of his teammates as they tried to pretend they weren’t stealing glances at him, they were getting messages of their own. Hen was the first one to start to approach him with a look of concern, but Buck avoided her, grabbing his bag and sneaking out the door without bothering to hit the stationary bike like usual.

“What the hell did you do to piss this guy off?” Geoff said as soon as he answered Buck’s call. “More importantly, what else does he have on you?”

“Nothing!” Buck answered, nearly merging directly into another car as his hands shook on the steering wheel. “What do I do? How do I fix this?”

“I don’t know, Buckley. None of my other clients get up to shit like this. You need to get yourself a publicist. I’m going to get in touch with Grant and make sure they’re not already shopping you.”

His agent hung up and Buck’s phone continued to buzz and chime all the way back to his apartment.

There were cameras outside which there almost never were. Mostly only hockey fans cared about pictures of hockey players and the press was limited to the arena and their official events. Maybe one or two regular guys who Buck knew by name. It was just his luck that he lived in LA where there were almost more cameras than there were disasters to photograph.

“Buck! Do you know who the author is?”

“Have your teammates seen the post?”

“Are you worried about other former partners coming out with similar stories?”

Buck pushed past them, but the questions followed him inside. His phone didn’t stop. His mentions were a nightmare on every platform. He shut Twitter as soon as he opened it and saw his name in the trending topics. The statements put out by the Kings and Buck’s agent condemning the piece and the interest in it were drowned out by outlet after outlet picking up the post and sharing it out wider and wider.

Can you guess this NHL player by his sexcapades? (Hint: It’s exactly who you think)

Hockey players used to be the humble, hard working gentleman of sports. What happened?

Should the Kings trade Evan Buckley? Can they?

Nash should make Buckley sit for embarrassing the team like this.

Aw, man, don’t do that. Sitting’s a little tough for Buckley right now

🤣

And I thought it couldn’t get worse than the time he fucked that mascot in Carolina

{This post may contain explicit content}

😵‍💫

🤮

Excuse you, Gritty has standards

[98 more posts]

Whether from a latent masochistic streak or just because he didn’t want to look away and find that the story had gotten bigger while he was gone, Buck couldn’t stop refreshing the pages. He read Jay’s words over and over again as his stomach roiled. If it had all been lies, Buck wouldn’t have spent the morning pressed into the corner of his couch, hoodie pulled up over his head like armor. If it had all been lies, he could have made a fiery statement, condemning the mystery author and condemning everyone who thought they had a right to consume and critique another person’s sex life.

There were some lies, of course, but it was true enough that Buck’s heart clenched with it. True enough that he could remember how he felt when it was happening, during the three times they’d been together before the photo. Soft and desired and joyful. There was a part of him that was still exposed to Jay, that always would be, this man with the sharp wit and the sharp smile who got Buck bare, begging and biddable all to make him a joke. As he read the smug asides in the unforgiving narrative, he could hear Jay’s voice in his ear.

The sixth time he read it, there was an addition.

Edit: Ha ha wow this really blew up. Doing an AMA at 6 eastern if you’re looking for more dirty details.

And for the first time, Buck felt the burn of tears in his eyes. Furious. Powerless.

The buzz of his phone started making his skin crawl so he shoved it between the couch cushions and tried not to think about it. He sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around, rocking just a little as he felt panic creeping in.

What else could Jay possibly have to say? Would he make up more and more audacious lies as long as he had an audience? Would an NHL team want to touch Buck when he was done?

Were there more pictures?

It was the fourth night, the night that Buck caught Jay. Not the first night with the blindfold. What if? Buck shuddered, sinking lower, deeper into the couch, folding himself tighter and smaller, trying to crush the mounting, hopeless fear. He was there for a long time.

When the gentle knock hit his door, Buck jumped and then crouched tighter into his ball. He didn’t answer. There was no one he could face right now.

The knock came again.

Then the door opened.

Buck was up like a shot, nearly falling over the coffee table as he whirled around toward the intruder. Eddie stood in the doorway, holding up one empty hand and pulling his key out of the door with the other.

“Just me.”

“What are you doing here?” Buck asked, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie to hide the fact that he’d been digging his nails into his palms for the last hour.

“Well, you took off. And you weren’t answering your phone.”

Hot shame flushed across Buck’s skin. Eddie knew. Eddie had seen the article and the articles about the article and the tweets about the articles and been shouted at by the cameras outside and Buck wanted to sink into the floor.

“Notice you didn’t take the hint.”

The attitude in Buck’s response didn’t faze Eddie at all, “Do I ever?”

And that almost made Buck feel like smiling, because no, no he didn’t. He said, “No. But there’s always a first time.”

Eddie came a little further into the apartment and Buck felt crowded. Eddie always seemed to take up so much space around him. Maybe it was just that Buck felt his presence most strongly than anyone else’s. Especially when he was like this: arms crossed, focused, not letting Buck wiggle out of a conversation that he didn’t want to have.

This time was no exception. When Buck turned and went back to the couch, compulsively refreshing the comments on Jay’s post again as he went, Eddie followed right after him.

“I came by to make sure you were okay,” he said and Buck flinched again, hating that Eddie knew. Hating that the team knew.

“I’m fine,” he answered, keeping his eyes down and away from Eddie. “Coach is going to rip me a new one tomorrow, but my agent hasn’t called me to tell me I’m being traded so yet so I guess that’s-”

“Who the fuck said you were being traded?” His voice was loud enough that Buck looked up, surprised to see the intensity of anger in Eddie’s face.

“THN. NHL Network did a round table on it too, but they didn’t think anyone would take me. Oh, then Kirk Davis did a radio interview.”

Everyone had picked up those soundbites. Even through the heavily bleeped broadcast, the future hall-of-famer’s opinion on Buck had been crystal clear. At least that wasn’t new information for Buck. Davis had all but refused to shake Buck’s hand when he first joined the Predators and was a big part of why his tenure there had only lasted until the trade deadline.

“Kirk Davis is a fucking asshole. There’s a reason they never made him captain.”

“He’s not the only one who said it.”

“Then he’s not the only fucking asshole out there.” When he didn’t respond, Eddie came around the couch to stand face to face with him, noticing the open comments page as he did. “Christ, have you been reading that shit all day?”

Somehow it made Buck laugh. “It’s the same shit I’ve been reading for 8 years. Since I got drafted. Buckley’s a distraction to his team. Buckley’s an embarrassment to the game of hockey. Buckley cares more about getting laid and partying than he does about winning. It’s guys like Buckley that hurt the NHL.”

His voice pitched up as he recited the familiar accusations, staring somewhere over Eddie’s shoulder because Eddie already knew all this about him. Eddie was the opposite of Buck in every way. He would never make himself the center of attention. He’d never do anything to make his teammates ashamed to play with him. He’d never be so stupid as to go home with a guy like Jay.

“Buckley’s finally getting what he deserves.” Buck whispered.

“Look at me,” Eddie said. When Buck couldn’t, Eddie reached out, setting a light hand on his shoulder that got tighter when Buck tried to shrug out of the hold. “Hey. Look at me.”

He moved his head into the space where Buck was staring into the middle distance and waited. Until Buck couldn’t help but flick his gaze to meet Eddie’s. Once he did, he found a furious compassion that startled him.

“You don’t deserve this, Buck. You did nothing to deserve this. It is not your fault. Nobody in our room thinks it is. Bobby doesn’t think it is.”

Buck shuddered under the weight of the words. He wanted to pull himself free and he wanted to step in closer, “My agent told me I should own it. Post a couple thirst traps and a middle finger on instagram and just wave it off like another classic Evan Buckley weekend.”

There was a time when he would have. Times when he had. But this wasn’t a ridiculous paparazzi photo outside a bar, it was… It was private. It hurt.

As if reading his mind, Eddie said, “That’s not what this is. Fire him if he wants to make you pretend this is okay.”

“I just keep thinking if I was anyone else. If I was someone good, they’d all go after him and not me. I didn’t even do anything to him, Eddie. I didn’t-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Eddie tugged him forward and his arms were tight around his back. Buck should have tried to fight it, but he couldn’t help but fall against his chest and cling on. “You are someone good,” Eddie said, making Buck’s breath hitch. “And if you weren’t, it wouldn’t matter. It’s wrong. They’re wrong.”

“I shouldn’t have trusted him,” Buck confessed into the soft fabric of Eddie’s shirt. “I was so stupid back then. I just wanted- I wanted him to like me. And I’m still- It still hurts that he didn’t. How fucked up is that? He did this. And I still just wish he liked me.”

One of Eddie’s hands moved up to cradle the back of Buck’s head. They were swaying, just a little, Eddie rocking them gently. “I know,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

He managed to keep from crying, but Buck couldn’t stop his breath from coming out in soft, stuttering gasps. Couldn’t keep his fingers from digging into Eddie’s back. If he thought about it, he could imagine this post too (Evan Buckley cried like a baby on my shoulder AMA), but Eddie would never do that. The warm heat of him against Buck’s chest was like a blanket hiding him from the world. It was the most vulnerable he’d been all day and the most sheltered.

Eddie didn’t let go until Buck pulled back and even then he didn’t go far, “Have you eaten since practice?”

“I didn’t think I’d be able to without throwing up,” Buck said honestly.

“Do you want to order something from-”

The timer on Buck’s laptop shrieked and they both jumped. Eddie recovered quickly, but Buck’s heart leapt into his throat. He’d almost forgotten. How could he have forgotten? Pulling away from Eddie, he turned off the timer and refreshed the post, looking for the link he knew would be there.

“Come on, Buck, really?”

Eddie reached out to slam the laptop closed, but Buck shoved his hand in the way. “I have to, Eddie. He’s doing an AMA. I have to-”

“I’m not going to let you torture yourself reading what a bunch of sick assholes have to say, Buck. No way.”

“I have to.”

“No, you-”

“Yes, I do!” He shouted it, standing up to look Eddie in the eye. “I have to read it. I have to see it now because if- if- if I wait and it gets reposted- I have to know if he has- I have to-”

“Buck,” Eddie said, putting his hands on Buck’s arms, trying to rub calmness back into him even as Buck’s heart-rate accelerated. “What does he have? What could be worse than what he already-”

“Pictures,” Buck yelled. “I have to know if he has pictures.”

A dark, dark look came over Eddie’s face and he stopped rubbing Buck’s arms to squeeze instead. “You think he has pictures?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Buck whimpered. He saw himself as if from above, stretched out long and lewd against Jay’s sheets. He imagined ten thousand other people seeing it. “He took- I caught him taking one. Once. But I don't know if it was the only one. I don’t- I can’t let them get out. If he has them, I have to know. I have to report the post. I have to-”

“No,” Eddie said.

“Yes, Eddie. I have-”

“I hear you. Okay? I hear you, but I’m not letting you do that. I’m not letting you put any more of that garbage in your head.”

“Eddie.”

“I’ll do it. I’ll report every goddamn post.” Lifting one hand, Eddie stroked a thumb softly along Buck’s hairline. “Let me do it. Let me protect you.”

Buck swallowed hard, fear and relief and longing fighting for control of the tears that were building up again. He didn’t want Eddie to see any of that. He didn’t want Jay’s words in Eddie’s head. But Buck really really didn’t want them in his own. He wanted someone to protect him. “Thank you,” he said, falling forward again to rest his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” Eddie replied, rubbing his hands firmly up Buck’s back.

Eddie wouldn’t let Buck sit on the couch while he monitored the thread. He fished Buck’s phone out of the couch and made him answer the important messages. From Maddie. From Bobby. From Hen and Chimney. Then he’d told him to order food from the Lebanese place they always ordered from when Eddie came over, asking for extra of the pickled turnips. All the while, Eddie’s fingers slammed onto the keyboard, that sound the only reaction he gave to any of the posts.

It should have been unbearable, letting Eddie comb through the messages. Even without seeing them, Buck knew what they were like. He blocked people every week for the same kind of thing. But Eddie had a defense against them that Buck never had: he didn’t believe they were true. Not even a little bit. He didn’t believe there was a chance that Buck was getting what he deserved for being a show off, for never being a points leader, for being open and soft hearted, for being himself. Eddie believed Buck deserved to be protected and he was ruthless about it.

“No pictures,” he said, a while later, when Jay had finally stopped replying to every comment on the page. “And the rest of it is… well. It’s nothing new.”

“Really?”

“Really. I think it’s done.”

Eddie closed the laptop as if by making that gesture of finality, he could make the words true. Buck, allowed back on his own couch, let himself believe it too. Let himself lean into the safety of Eddie’s arm over his shoulders, breathing in a deep sigh of relief as they caught the Canucks game.

The next morning, Jay’s story was hardly anywhere to be seen. It was replaced. By an essay in The Players’ Tribune. It excoriated Jay. It called out Kirk Davis by name and hundreds of online posters by their bad intentions. It praised Buck’s grace, tenacity, and backhand shot and it demanded respect and compassion and privacy from anyone who called themselves a hockey fan. And it wasn’t anonymous.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Just Ask

Prompts: Hey… So, I was wondering if you could write a fic where one of the sides are dyslexic? Since that usually just ends as "Oh, I can't read, oh no!" and not like the actual neurodiversity it is. Yes, I admit, I want to relate to one too, but… Well. It'd be awesome if you would, but if that's too tall an order or too specific that's fine too. If you do, though, maybe college AU with roceit? -anon

Hi you're amazing! I love your writing and brand of writing and just I've read a lot of your stories and I love them all kskejejwuwugfhsv-

I was wondering, if you take requests, that maybe you could write a human AU with fake dating Roceit? With confident fat Janus because we need that! Or not, that's your choice!

(I sound like some snob asking for a highly specific coffee shi-) - anon

oh babe y'all wanted to be FED huh

Read on Ao3

Warnings: slight ableist/fatphobic language

Pairings: roceit

Word Count: 2487

Sometimes, you can get all of your work done in the library. Sometimes, people are ableists.

And sometimes there's something wonderful in finding out there's someone there for you as well.

Roman scrubs his hands over his face and sighs. Between waiting ages at the printer or absolutely destroying his retinas by staring at a screen for hours on end, he isn’t unhappy with making the choice to save the environment by using less paper but god.

“At least this pdf was convertible,” he mutters, scrolling down to see how many pages he has left. The last four weren’t and reading without the right font is a fucking pain in the ass.

Seven pages left. Great.

Roman focuses on the screen and starts to mutter under his breath again. Focus on the word, figure it out, make the sentence, move on. Pause to take notes, make sure it’s legible to read later, and repeat.

A computer and heavy bag thuds onto the table next to him and he jumps, almost knocking his coffee over. He looks up, glaring at the person who stares down their nose at him like he’s some sort of stain. Rude.

“You’ve been here for like, three hours, dude,” they say, like that’s supposed to justify their behavior, “move. I need this spot.”

Roman looks around. There’s like, four more tables open. “Can’t you just go sit somewhere else?”

“No! This is my spot! You can go sit somewhere else.”

“Well,” Roman mutters, glaring at his screen again, “I was here first. So you can either wait until I’m done or sit down.”

“Dude, I swear—“

“Excuse me,” comes a smooth voice that has no business being this polished in the fucking library, “is this person bothering you, sweetie?”

Roman turns around and his mouth drops open.

“J-Janus?”

Janus raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms and glaring at the dick with the heavy bag. Who, as a matter of fact, seems to be muttering and stuffing shit back into said bag.

“Sorry I’m late,” Janus drawls, still sounding way too confident and way too much like he knows what’s going on, “got held up after class.”

“Uh, no problem,” he mumbles, glancing over his shoulder to see the asshole is still standing there, “just, um…working.”

“Ah, well then, you won’t mind if I join you.” And with that, Janus sits down with a flourish, propping his chin up on his hand and fixing the asshole with an impressive look of disgust. “And you…you can leave.”

“Look, buddy—“

“My partner and I have work to do,” Janus says, swiftly cutting them off and making sure Roman has no idea what’s going on, “now leave.”

Roman’s really glad there was no ambiguity that Janus could’ve been talking to him, because he’s about ready to bolt. Only when the asshole has retreated does Janus turn his gaze to him.

“Sorry about that,” he says, flicking a speck of imaginary lint from his gloves, “he seemed like he was bothering you. Thanks for playing along.”

“Oh, uh, no, I’m, uh—“ Janus raises an eyebrow as Roman stumbles over his words— “sorry. Uh, thanks?”

Janus chuckles. “Oh, no worries, sweetie. I was happy to do it. Although…”

Janus squints at him and Roman fights the urge to squirm under that gaze.

“You’re in my seminar class, aren’t you?” Roman nods. “The one that let out three hours ago?”

“Yeah, uh-huh.”

“Have you…been here since then?”

Roman nods, trying to get back to work and, you know, maybe get out of here, only for Janus to reach across the table and still his hands as he goes to pick up the pen again.

“Have you eaten?”

“What?”

“Eaten,” Janus says slowly, mouth stretching into a smile, “lunch, sweetie.”

“Uh—“ no, is the correct answer— “I was going to?”

Janus just gives him a look.

“…no.”

“Mm.” Janus glances at his computer and notebook. “You’re not by any chance attempting to read all of the assignments in one go, are you?”

Roman’s guilty flush seems to answer that question for him. Janus sighs and it’s such an odd mixture of disappointment and fondness Roman hasn’t earned that his brain spits out the only question he actually wants an answer to.

“Why are you here?”

Janus chuckles. “In the library, at this school, or are we already to the point of questioning the very nature of existence?”

Roman just blinks at him.

“Oh, relax, sweetie, I’m teasing.” Janus glances off in the vague direction the asshole wandered off to. He leans a little closer. “I know how…difficult it can be to try and do work when they bother you.”

Roman’s cheeks flush. “Oh, uh…thanks, then.”

Janus waves a hand. “It’s none of their business why you’re doing so much work at once. Even if it does make you skip lunch,” he adds with such a pointed look that Roman can’t help splutter.

“I was going to! And you’re not my mother!”

“No,” Janus purrs, “but like any good partner, I like to make sure my sweetie takes care of themselves.”

Roman does not squeak, despite Janus’s chuckles, but he does start to fiddle with his pen. “I can’t…stop yet.”

“Why ever not?”

“Can you stop,” Roman blurts, scrubbing his hands over his blushing face, “please? For like, two seconds?”

“Sorry, you’re just adorable.”

“Stop, dude, seriously, if you want an actual answer to the question?”

“I’m done,” Janus chuckles, “I’m done, sorry.”

Roman takes a deep breath. He fiddles with the pen. “It’s just—with my dyslexia, it takes a while to…find the, um…”

“Zone?”

“…sure.”

Janus hums in understanding. Then he reaches into his own bag and pulls out a book of his own. “Then we may as well work together until you’re finished.”

Roman blinks. Hi, hello, brain is confused, what just happened in the last five minutes?

Janus waves a hand in front of his face. “Hello? Sweetie? You okay?”

“Sorry, I’m just—trying to process what happened.” Roman blinks again. “Because it seems like some asshole tried to take my seat, you came up and pretended to be my partner to scare them away, proceeded to badger me about taking care of myself, and now you’re…still here?”

Janus nods. “That’s how I experienced it too, that’s correct.”

“…so now what’re we doing?”

“Well, I’m also going to try and get some work done, you’re going to finish your work, and then we’re going to get lunch.”

“And what about the dude that now thinks we’re partners?”

Janus looks at him and shrugs. “I’m game if you are.”

Roman blinks again. Is…Janus suggesting they fake being in a relationship to, what, defend Roman’s right to sit wherever the fuck he wants for however long in a library?

“What’s in it for you?”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me,” Roman says, “what’s in it for you?”

Janus’s fingers still on the book he’s pulled out. He sighs and looks up at Roman.

“How long have you known about your dyslexia?”

Jumping around a bit here, aren’t we? “About six years, why?”

“And you know how to manage it? For you?”

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“That doesn’t mean it goes away,” Janus says softly, “it’s still work, you just…know how to do it now.”

“Yeah, it still takes me time to do things, why—“ Roman’s eyes widen— “oh. Oh, wait, you mean—wait, what do they have against you?”

Janus’s mouth tugs up into a smirk. “How sweet.”

“Shut up,” Roman mumbles, “you know what I mean.”

Janus just winks at him before sobering. “Well,” he says wryly, gesturing at himself, “surely you can understand that…not everyone treats you very well when you aren’t the circumference of a toothpick.”

Oh. They’re those kind of assholes. Something Janus chuckles about when that thought gets out before Roman can stop them.

“Quite. I can manage them, but it’s still work.” He looks at Roman. “Maybe we can split the load?”

“I’m down with that.”

“Wonderful. Now,” Janus says, mock sternly, “get back to work. We have lunch to get.”

Roman chuckles. “Sure, sure, don’t ask to borrow my notes.”

“I would never, I just forget things like a cool person and make things up that the professor likes to hear.”

Yeah, this is gonna go just fine.

As it turns out, it does. Roman won’t lie, he was…skeptical about the viability of this plan of theirs. He’s read the stories. He knows how this works. He knows about the misunderstandings and whether it’s a bet or a dare, something goes wrong.

But…nothing does.

Watching Janus tear anyone to shreds is entertaining enough in class, where Roman gives up on taking debate notes and just watches because goddamn, but when he gets to stand there and just glare at some ableist while Janus verbally decimates them? Poetic cinema. He debates sneaking some popcorn into his jacket pocket but that would take away from the power of his glare.

And it is nice to have someone else do the work of glaring assholes away from his table when he’s working on reading. He would be lying if he said that actually having someone else to talk to isn’t part of it. It’s so much easier to keep track of where he’s messing up so he can focus on it during his exercises later.

“You know,” Janus remarks as they leave the library one day, “you can ask the professors for editable pdfs.”

“Huh?”

“For your font stuff.” Janus nods toward his backpack. “I know you like to change the font so you can read it better, most of them have editable copies of the materials.”

“Not for the eBooks and scans and stuff.”

Janus huffs, waving his hand. “How do you think they get the audio transcripts for the recorded versions? They have to transcribe it anyway, just ask for those.”

Roman stops. “How…how do you know those exist?”

Janus just taps the side of his nose and winks.

“Can…can you do that?”

“Of course.” Janus links his arm through Roman’s. “Anything for you.”

That shouldn’t do what it does to Roman’s chest.

Because yeah, okay, maybe Janus is…really cute.

Like, unfairly cute.

No one should be able to rock that hat all the time. And the gloves. And the pocket watch. And the curly hair. And the attitude. And the impressive vocabulary. And the razor-sharp wit. And he actually knows how to flirt! What is flirting? All Roman knows is Gay Panic™ and Suffering™. What is this? Why is it allowed?

And why, oh why, did Janus have to be the one that started the fake-dating idea?

Because here’s the thing. It would be so easy to just be friends with Janus. It would! They’re already friends now, fake-dating kind of does that to you. And Janus, despite what he wants everyone else to believe, is a fucking dork. His actual laugh is squeaky and bubbly and ugh, Roman could drown in it. And he’s really kind. It’s not the same breed of kind that Roman’s used to, but goddamn, Janus is so sweet when he lets himself be. And it’s been so long since Roman had like, an actual friend…

But it would also be so easy to be more than friends with Janus. To actually be able to take him out for dates and not just lunch at their janky cafeteria. To be able to spend time together that isn’t just for show, or platonic, or just hanging out ranting about stupid dead supposed-to-be-smart people.

Again, Roman’s read the stories. He knows how this is supposed to go.

So when he takes a little longer to pack up one day, enough that Janus notices and eases himself back down into his seat with a soft, real, ‘what’s wrong, sweetie, let me help,’ Roman prepares the bittersweet ‘nothing, I’m fine,’ and to swallow down everything real.

But instead…

“Can we, um, actually date?”

Janus blinks. “Come again, sweetie?”

Roman fiddles with the buckle on his bag. “I, um, I really appreciate what we’ve been doing, and I, um, I’m super happy being your friend…”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“…but I, um—“ god, why are words so hard?— “I think I would actually like to try…dating you. For real.”

He peeks up nervously at Janus.

“Is…is that okay?”

Janus sits there, silent. He blinks a few times. Then a slow, real smile spreads across his face.

“Roman,” he says softly, almost too quiet, even in the hush of the library, “why do you think I proposed this idea in the first place?”

Oh.

Oh.

Roman blinks. “Wait, you—you?”

A pretty flush covers Janus’s face. “Well, I…was planning to ask you normally, but then I saw you being absolutely tormented and…panicked.”

“You panicked?”

He throws his hands up. “Well, what was I supposed to do? The most gorgeous person in my seminar was being bullied and I was supposed to just let it happen?”

Wait. Back up. Roman is what?

“And yes, maybe I...wanted an excuse to be your friend first, but as I said, I panicked and so—“

“You—wait, you think I’m pretty?”

Janus stops, mouth open, before he’s scoffing. “Roman, have you seen yourself?”

“Uh—“

“At least you’re pretty,” Janus mutters under his breath, “pretty and dumb, but pretty.”

“Hey!”

“You can be big of brain and dumb of ass at the same time, sweetie.”

“Oh, says the man whose idea was to fake-date me because you wanted to actually ask me out!”

“I will not be lectured on dramatics from a theater kid.”

“That’s ex-theater kid to you.”

“Oh, you know once you go, you never come back.”

Roman giggles. Then he’s laughing. Janus joins in and oh, this is much better than shoving feelings down and pretending they don’t exist.

“You’re such a fucking dork.”

“No,” Janus purrs, reaching over to boop the end of Roman’s nose, “I’m your fucking dork.”

Oh. Oh, that sounds…really good. Roman’s chest is really warm now, when did that happen? Janus smiles too.

“So…dinner?”

“You’re paying.”

“I’ll pick you up at six.”

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[lunaekalenda]

Can I request a JeanxFem!reader where the reader is super friendly/clingy and isn't conscious of the effects it has on Jean? Like sometimes reader would just grab his hand or hold on to his arm, or even stand in front of him and put his arms around their shoulders? Reader ou does this to Jean bc they're best friends but he will never get used to it bc Jean loves them and is all "asdfghjkl" everytime it happens. But then one day reader stops doing this stuff because someone told her Jean likes them but ONLY bc they look similar to Mikasa, which breaks the Reader's cute lil heart. Angst but fluff at the end please!

hi! of course!! i hope you like it! <3 sorry if i got too fluffy at the end :’)

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

❁ jean x female!reader

❁ canonverse

❁ a/n: i didn’t want to make annie like a “villain” but she’s just being really honest with what she thinks about it, she’s not trying to bother her!

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

"Jean!" you yell. He smiles at you once he found from where your voice comes, and you run to hug your best friend. His tall body gives you difficulties to reach his neck, but he leans closer to you, his big hands on your waist. His heart flutters happily when he feels your warmth closer to him. 

“How was your training?” he asks. You tangle your arm with his, starting to walk calmly towards the dorms. 

When you entered here, on the military, you wanted to punch him. How he was always feeling superior. You wanted to punch him so bad.

But, after the first battle, where some unlucky friends passed away, he changed abruptly. He understood the pain of the more weak ones, and didn’t vacillate to take risky decisions in due to help the mission. He was made to be a leader, and you two worked hand by hand in the same squad. Thats how, quietly, you started to notice how funny and sweet he is, even when he tries to cover it with his prideful façade. But, since you two got really close, you can even difference what he is feeling, even when he tries so desperately to hide it.

Or so do you think.

One day, when you two were training, Mikasa passed by, following Eren. Jean got his eyes fixed on her black hair.

“You like Mikasa, don’t you?” Connie told him, joking. 

“I-I like her hair, no-o more.” He says. In that times, he was your friend, but you weren’t that close. 

Surprisingly, the more friends you became, the more strange you felt. Why did your heart a flip every time he smiled at you? Why did you felt bad when Mikasa asked something to him?

Maybe you were starting to feel something for him?

“You’re totally into Kirstein.” Petra told you. You enjoyed talking to her, she’s really nice. 

“Shut up, Petra, or else I’ll have to tell you how you look when Capt...”

“Got it!” she interrupted you and you both laughed. It was a quiet afternoon, and you two where sitting on the lake. “I think you should go for him.” she said. 

“He isn’t into me.” you answered. “He likes Mikasa.” Petra looked to the lake.

“Who knows, maybe he does feel the same...”

Petra is really positive, unless you talk about her. Then, she says she has zero opportunities.But, you didn’t want to break your special bond with Jean. That’s why you tried to keep things in a friendship, ignoring your feelings for so long.

“It was fine, yep.” you say. “But I’m hungry.” Your belly confirmes it. He lets out a little laugh.

“Let’s go and eat something first, then.” You smile and, letting go his arm, you tangle your fingers with his, walking with his hand on yours. He blushes a bit. “By the way, tonight we have free time. Do you want to hang?” Today, the Captains of the Squads gave you all free time, celebrating that you all survived another expedition yesterday. 

“Sure.” you pull him softly, his hand caressing yours in an unconscious way while you two walk towards the cantina.

❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁ ❁❁❁❁

You feel the cold wind against your skin and wet hair while you walk to the encounter point you agreed with Jean earlier. You found Annie walking back to the dorms.

You and Annie haven’t talked that much, specially since her introverted nature finds your outgoing one terrible.

“Hi, Annie.” you say. She looks at you.

“If you’re searching Jean, he’s talking with Mikasa near Eren’s dorm. Just in case.” She speaks. You maybe looked concerned or down, because she looked at you for a long time. “You know you don’t have opportunities with him, right? He’s not the type of boy to fall in love with.” She says. You look at her back, kinda confused of the words she just said. “He thought he liked you, I’m sure he was confused. But then he realized you look so much like Mikasa, so he just likes the way you look like her. Never thought of it?”

“I do not look like her.” You say. 

“The same black hair that Jean loves. That’s enough for him to remind of her every time he looks at you. She’s out of his league, but maybe you...” Maybe she’s right. After all, he loves Mikasa’s black long hair. She cut it, you still have long hair. But, is all of this the truth? 

“Y/N!” Jean calls you from the place you accorded. Annie waves her hand before disappearing, going back to her dorm.

You walk towards Jean without your usual clingy ways. You walk silently, the sweater hugging your body and your gaze low. Jean is aware of your change of attitude. He gets concerned. What did he do to upset you? Maybe you don’t want to see him again. “Are you okay?” he asks, once you’ve reached him. You nod and fake a smile.

“Annie told me you were talking to Mikasa, so I decided to wait there. I didn’t want to bother.”

“You should had call me, dummy!” he says, colliding his shoulders with yours, playing. “You never bother me, y/n.”

His hazel eyes search any type of reaction on yours, but he only gets your gaze on the floor again. He stops walking and turns you to face him. “Hey, it’s everything okay?” He asks. He has lowered his voice and his tone is way more concerned. You don’t know if his kindness makes you feel good or bad. “Y/N?” He asks again. He just needs to know you’re fine, he needs to hear that nothing happened to you. Maybe, he thinks, you’re just upset with him for some reason he can’t think of. 

“I’m fine.” You’re not. You’ve been binge thinking about what Annie said to you, and you ended believing that maybe that’s true. That you’re just a Mikasa impostor on his heart.

“You’re not fine.” He says. Your skin feels electricity when he holds your hand, trying to avoid you from walking away. He searches your eyes once more, but now, they’re full of tears. His eyebrows move in a worrying expression. “What happened?” He asks. His tone is now sweet, trying to calm you.

“Well, now I know why you always pat my hair.” you say. At the end, the logic Annie followed is totally right, at least in your brain. “It is like touching Mikasa’s, right?”

His expression is now extremely confused. What are you doing bringing up Mikasa in a conversation that has nothing to do with her?

“Mikasa’s?” he asks. You wipe your tears with your hand quickly.

“You liked her when she entered, so probably you keep liking her. And my hair looks exactly like hers. Are you using me?” You ask. Your brain thought all of this in one second, this was kinda messy and you don’t know exactly what is happening. Jean is as confused as you are, he doesn’t know how he made a mistake like that. Make you think he’s in love with Mikasa when he’s in love with you. 

“Listen, Y/N...” he says. This wasn’t the confession scenario he built up in his head, but he needs to clarify things now, before this weird conversation ends with you two ending your friendship. "I did like Mikasa. I liked her when we entered, yes. But it was just a platonic love. We're friends. The point here..."

"I'm your best friend, Jean." you say. "You can tell me if you like her, I'll be okay with that. I gave up on you on any way."

He looks surprised. You liked him? You liked him all this time? As he liked you?

“What?” he asks. “Gave up?”

“I liked you, Jean Kirstein. A lot. My heart was out of my fucking chest every time you hugged me and I couldn’t think straight if your body was behind mine. But you were probably thinking about Mikasa and how beautiful she is...”

“No.” his face is serious when he looks at you. Both of his hands go to your cheeks, taking with his thumbs a couple tears that run fast down to your chin. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” he says. Your teary eyes look at his, searching a joke or something like that, but his eyes are more serious than ever. “I knew it was maybe a one-sided love, because I thought you’ll never be interested in me. Every time you acted clingy, my heart was about to explode of happiness. I feel so good when you’re around me, y/n...” he passes one lock of your hair behind your ear. “I knew i was in love  because I didn’t care it was one-sided, if you were happy, I was happy. That’s why I got so concerned today. Even knowing maybe it was my fault, I couldn’t see you looking sad. I couldn’t. Because I’m still so madly in love with you, I care about you and your well.being so much that I felt the pain of your eyes myself. Sorry for making you feel that way.”

There’s now a silence between you. Jean is probably giving you space to understand all he said, and your brain is having an emergency reunion. He does like you, and you’re still so in love with him... After all, all that happened was because a misunderstanding from you. You feel so silly now...

“Sorry.” you say. “I misunderstood things.”

“But that’s because I never told you clearly what I felt.”

“It’s all my fault.” you try to convince him that he’s wrong, that you were the one confused. “Now I probably lost all the opportunities to be with you and also our friendship.”

“Don’t be that drama queen, dummy.” he says, his voice a low whisper. “I think we just need to honestly tell each other what do we feel now.” He says. 

Telling the other? Telling what?

“I’ll start, then.” he says, “I fell in love with my clingy best friend and I’m still so in love I wouldn’t mind dating her.”

His words made your heart beat faster. After all, where you hiding feelings that were probably reciprocate? 

Probably.

“Come on, don’t be shy!” He laughs sweetly when he sees your blushed cheeks. His thumb makes soft circles on them. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to say this now, but you’re so fucking pretty...” his gaze gets lost in your face, admiring every single part of it.

“I also still love you, but don’t let your ego raise.” he laughs and so you do. Now, you can look at his face freely, how his hazel eyes have such an intense gaze...

“So, now that this is arranged, why don’t we act as if this never happened and you let me confess in a proper way, hm?”

“Sounds great.”

[holylulusworld]

Her substitute (4) - Back Home

Summary: Once you were her best friend. Now her widower seeks shelter in your arms. 

Square Filled: Bonham Walker for @walker-bingo​​

Ship: Cordell Walker x fem!Reader, Cordell Walker x Emily Walker (widowed)

Characters: Bonham Walker, Stella Walker, August Walker, Abeline Walker

Rating: Mature

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of loss of a loved one, remorse, awkward situations, idiots in love, Walkers family is the best, arguments, implied smut

Word Count: 1,6 k

Her substitute masterlist

2021 Walker Bingo masterlist

Divider by @firefly-graphics​​

<< Part 3

“Y/N,” Stella clings to you, refuses to let go of you. The moment you got out of your old truck she jumped at you, crying as you came back. “You’re back.”

“Yeah,” you swallow thickly when Stella tells you how much she has missed you. For now, you will hide you still don’t know if you will stay or go back to New York. “How have you been? I know my departure was—sudden.”

“It was his fault, wasn’t it?” she chokes out, looking up at you. “Why can’t he just admit he wants to go out with you? Dad should stop being so stubborn.”

“Your father and I, we are friends and partners. It’s complicated, you know. Maybe it would be easier if I wasn’t your mom’s best friend. I think Cor—I mean your dad doesn’t know how to express his feelings. And I don’t know if it’s a good idea that I stay here.”

“Why? You are family, Y/N. Please don’t leave us again. August, he doesn’t show it but he’s missing you too. He’s as stubborn as dad,” Stella sighs when you run your hand over her hair. “Dad is an idiot for not seeing how much you care about him.”

“There she is, the long-lost daughter,” Bonham smirks when you walk toward the house, Stella hot on your heels. She refused to leave your side since you are back in town, even followed you home when you tried to change clothing.

“Hi,” you let Cordell’s father wrap you in a hug. “How have things been since I’ve been gone? Do you still drive your wife crazy?” he snickers at your words.

“So, you’ve become an important FBI agent now?” he looks at you, searching your face while hoping you will come back. “I heard about Cordell and you. Why didn’t you tell me you are about to become our new daughter-in-law?”

“Bonham,” you sigh, shaking your head lightly, “this is all a misunderstanding. Cordell and I are only friends and partners.”

“Do you want to tell me you left your home, your family for a job you don’t want out of the blue? I know about the blind date and that you left town right after you canceled, the party,” he slings one arm around your shoulders to lead you into the house. “I am an old man, not blind nor stupid.”

“Love is out of the question for Cordell and me,” Bonham doesn’t say a word. He guides you into the house, biting his tongue. “Emily was the woman he loved, and it will always be her for him. I don’t think he will be able to open his heart for someone else.”

“How about we save the heavy topics for later and have dinner? Abeline made your favorite, and she made a pie to die for, Y/N,” you hate to say no to Bonham, so you nod silently, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You know, if he doesn’t man up and asks you out, I’ll handle this for him.”

“Bonham,” he laughs when you try to stop him from playing the matchmaker for you and his son. “Please don’t try to change his mind. Cordell is—”

“A stubborn man, but he has feelings for you, my dear. He’s like his old man,” Bonham ends your sentence. “Y/N, he’s a good man, with a broken heart. He just needs a little push. Let me push him if I must.”

“That’s delicious Abeline,” you try to break the awkward tension in the dining room. While Stella and August won’t stop asking questions about New York, the FBI and your training Cordell sits opposite you, frowning anytime you say something, “as always.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Cordell’s mother gives you a soft smile, offering another slice of the pie to you. “You are always welcome to join us for dinner. Cordell should invite you more often.”

“Mom,” Cordell clears his throat, eyes drifting toward you again. Tonight, he sticks to water, doesn’t even touch the beer his father offered to him. “Y/N will come around when she finds the time. She has her own life…maybe even in New York.”

“Dad,” Stella drops her fork. She grimaces, pointing her finger at you. “Do you want her to leave town again? Why don’t you ask her out? If you can go out with that other woman, you can go out with Y/N!”

“Stella,” August tries to spare you another hurtful scene. He’s grown for his age, and you give him a weak smile. “We talked about this, didn’t we?”

“Fine,” grasping for her water Stella glares at her father. “If she leaves all of us because of you, I will never forgive you.”

“I think that is enough,” Bonham speaks up. “Y/N doesn’t owe you anything, Stella. She is important to all of us, but this doesn’t mean she must stay in town and work as a Texas Ranger, not when she has the chance to become an FBI agent.”

“Grandpa,” Stella sniffs, looking at him, pleadingly. “Please. I don’t want to lose her too. He can’t ruin everything for us. Mom died because—”

“Enough,” this time you drop the fork. “It was my fault too. We arrested that man together. I was the one not wanting to give up and your mom and Jason paid the price. The guilt almost ate me up and your father was the one catching my fall,” you admit, pushing the tears away.

“What?” Stella inhales sharply. She always believed you are like Wonder Woman. Invincible and strong-willed. “But—but you seem so strong and…”

“Even the mightest people fall sometimes. It’s no shame to accept help from someone,” you clear your throat, eyes drifting toward Cordell. You know he’s ashamed Geri called you and that you saw him drunk once again. “Some people might say you are even stronger for accepting help.”

“Hi—erm, can I help you?” watching you clean the dishes Cordell awkwardly stands in the kitchen. “Mom said the dishwasher needs fixing. Let me lend you a hand.” He stands behind you to subtle sniff at your hair.

You can feel his chest press against your back when he tries to take the first plate out of your hand. “I—I can do this,” voice a little shaky you try to focus on the warm water soaking your hands, not the heat coming out of Cordell’s body. “How about you go back and chat a little or something.”

“Y/N, will it always be like that from now on? I want you to look at me the way you did before you left for New York,” he begins. “Please at least look at me. Even if you give me a dirty look. Just talk to me.”

“Do you think you are the only person thinking about shit all the time,” you place the plate back into the sink. “I think about Jason and Emily all the fucking time,” you turn around to jab your finger into his chest.

“Baby girl,” you whimper at the pet name. “I’m sorry—” he runs his large hands up and down your arms to calm you. “I should have stayed away from you, but I can’t. Y/N, I feel guilt too.” You huff at his words, not believing he feels sorry at all.

“Oh, you feel guilty for fucking me?” you retort, letting out a frustrated huff. “Do you know why I feel guilty, huh?” he shakes his head, swallowing thickly when tears well up to your eyes. “I feel guilty for getting them killed. I feel guilty for fucking my best friend’s husband. I feel guilty for hiding whatever we have from our families and friends. And I feel guilty for wanting you so bad that I can’t think straight when you are close to me.”

“Baby girl,” he gently cups your face, stroking your skin with his thumbs, “I’m so sorry for being an insensitive asshole. I should’ve told you how I feel a long time ago.” His lips softly press against your forehead, and you sigh deeply, hating he makes you feel weak all over again. “Please, give me a chance to show you I can be better.”

“I need to…I need to go,” you duck under his arm to escape the painful situation. Before you flee out of the house you look back over your shoulder to give Cordell one last glance. “Give me a few days to sort my thoughts, Cord. I just can’t be with you right now.”

“Hey, Ems,” you sit in front of your friend’s grave. “Do you think I should go back to New York? I-I know it’s wrong to love your husband, but I can’t stop my heart from beating only for him.” you sniff, wiping your eyes. “Shit, I can still feel his hands on me. He’s just—fuck. Cordell gets under my skin, Emily.”

Silence is a good friend tonight, so you sit there in front of her grave, drinking your favorite beer. “Do you remember when we first met? I thought you hate me, and you believed I am too cool to hang out with you. But the truth is, back then, I thought you are the coolest girl I ever met.”

“Shit, I wish you were here with me, Emily. I swear, nothing would’ve happened between me and Cordell if you were here. I could’ve never done such a shady thing,” you sip at your beer, sighing deeply.

“...and even now, I think about him and his fucking hands. God, his hands all over me and his lips against my throat. I love when he calls me baby girl. It drives me crazy, and I believe that I will lose my mind.”

“Coming,” Cordell grumbles, reluctantly opening the door to his house. “Y/N?” he gasps when you grab his shirt to bring him down for a messy kiss. “Baby girl.”

“Just shut up,” cupping the back of his neck, you kiss him again, this time slow and gentle. “I-I don’t know what to do. I only know that I want you.”

“I want you too—” you find yourself in his arms, your legs around his waist as he carries you inside his house. “Let me show you how much, baby girl…”

>> Part 5

Walker Tags

@mimzy1994, @rach-12, @jaredpadaleckisbride, @jessiebean00​

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

All works Tags

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@shikshinkwon​

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@i-love-superhero​

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@novawillowbarnes

[nsheetee]

a night at the library

Pairing: xiaojun x reader Genre: collage au | suggestive (?) and slightly crackish Word Count: 1.5k Details/Warnings: one descriptive and several general mentions of sex, some swearing, slightly suggestive Summary: you and xiaojun meet in the most awkward and unusual circumstances; you’re both trying to study at the library, but there’s two people having sex between the bookshelves a few feet away.

a/n: there’s a weird mix of suggestive + slightly mature content in this, please beware before continuing! 

you have a chemistry final tomorrow

maybe if you hadn’t spent so much time studying for your physiology final that was today— technically yesterday, you would’ve remembered

but you didn’t

and now it’s 12:39am and you’re cramming as much info into your brain as you can in hopes of it sticking and somehow coming out correctly in 7 hours

equations blur together, your neck hurts from looking down, and your cardigan does nothing to keep the chill of the library at night from seeping into you

a boy sits in a similar position on a table to your right, except he’s not studying equations and the periodic table

he’s studying music theory (which you two will later argue about if it’s actually as hard as chemistry)

xiaojun is also cramming for a final in 7 hours, a music theory final that he thought he was ready for, but upon taking a glance at the professor’s study guide, he realized he was definitely not

you both are too consumed in your own little worlds that are only a few feet apart, but are simultaneously so big and vast that you don’t even notice another human’s presence

you’re both so focused on your own work, you don’t even notice the two people who are fucking behind one of the library shelves

it’s when you tilt your head up and blink a bit (for what seems like the first time in hours) do you hear the deep grunts of passion

your eyes open wide, alert and perplexed

taking a moment to look around, you spot a guy sitting a few feet away, his head ducked into his books

are those his noises?

your question is answered when you hear more grunts accompanied by a high-pitched whine coming from the bookshelves that makes the guy perk his head up as well

and you make eye contact for the first time ever

alarm, embarrassment, and awkwardness blankets both of you when you realize what those noises are

no words need to be exchanged, just one look at each other illuminated by the dim glow of your individual lamps at your tables

“oh, god, yes!.... more, please more.”

you and xiaojun simultaneously jump and turn your heads back into your books at the sensual sounds that come from the bookshelf

you’re looking down at your notes, but your nose is almost touching the pages and you’re definitely not reading anything

xiaojun can feel himself heat up, also staring blankly down at his notes, unsure of what steps to take next

he feels something turn in his gut when he takes a sneaky look back at you, only the top of your head visible from where xiaojun sits

he closes his eyes and rubs them to get rid of the lewd thoughts coming into his head 

damn.... it’s been awhile since xiaojun got laid

.... maybe it’s because he’s spending late nights studying music theory in a library rather than spending late nights... wherever it is that those two people in the library shelves met

“yes, baby, you’re taking my cock so well, you’re so good to me.”

the dirty talk makes you let out a sequel of surprise, you cover it up with your hands over your face and stand up from your seat a moment later

you’re definitely not going to get anymore work done here

so there’s no point in staying

you feel as if you have to maintain your quietness as you pack your things, favoring not having to deal with this awkward situation if the people in passionate lovemaking figure out that you’re here

when xiaojun sees you move, standing up and tucking away your calculator and pencil, he also decides to pack up

you don’t make eye contact with each other, too afraid to even crane your heads up for the fear of seeing something you shouldn’t 

in your hurry, your phone drops out of your cardigan pocket and rolls along the floor, the multiple thuds that resonate seem louder than strikes on a gong, practically announcing to the whole library that someone is here

you and xiaojun freeze, making eye contact for the second time tonight and noticing the sudden absence of sound coming from the two people, until a question comes from behind the bookshelf

“is someone there?”

xiaojun is not sure if the question was asked to the partner or out into the general air, but he doesn’t want to stick around to find out

he bends down to pick up your phone that tumbled closer to him in one hand and your wrist in the other, pulling you through the hallway and down the stairs to the first floor of the library

the metal zippers of your bags jingle together and you both can’t help but laugh as you run from the scene

you’re not sure if you’re laughing at the situation, the glee of getting away from the awkwardness, or if xiaojun’s laughter is just that contagious

when both of you reach the first floor of the library, you turn back to find no one following you

you and xiaojun stop, catching your breaths, and finally facing each other 

“that was so awkward.” xiaojun states the obvious, but the words needed to be said to break the ice between you two

“when my phone fell, my soul nearly left my body.” another round of hushed giggles commences, before xiaojun’s eyebrows rise in acknowledgement 

“oh, right,” he holds out your phone, which was safely gripped in his hand during the whole run, “here’s this. sorry I took it from you and pulled you, I panicked.”

“no need to be sorry. knowing me, I would’ve still been standing upstairs, frozen in my shoes.” 

xiaojun admires you as you talk, suddenly noticing how pretty you are in the new lighting of the first floor and another rush of lust floods his stomach and chest

xiaojun really hasn’t gotten laid in a while

you notice his gaze, how it turned from soft to piercing, his sharp almond eyes quickly scanning up and down your body

you’re feeling more and more fuzzy in the head as you look at him, suddenly thinking about several unholy things

“sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m xiaojun.” 

“I'm y/n.” you reply softly, afraid to break the moment between you two

“I know it’s late and there’s no places that are open, so... how about I walk you to your dorm?” he asks with a tilt of his head

you hope he’ll do more than just walk you there

“sure, I'd like tha-”

“hey, you two kids, stop right there!” you and xiaojun jump in fright, not aware that there were other people in the library other than you and the two other people upstairs

a librarian walks over, fixing her crooked glasses in obvious annoyance

she doesn’t scare you, however the campus police officer trailing behind her does alert you

“officer, please escort them out of the building.” xiaojun’s eyes widen at that, exclamations of disagreement coming from your mouth as the officer walks from beside the librarian towards you

“wait, wait, for what? we have a right to know why we’re being escorted out.” xiaojun holds up his hands in front of him as if that would stop the beastly officer from grabbing onto him

“yeah, we were just studying upstairs.” the librarian scoffs at your words of defense

“you two can’t fool me, I have video proof of you engaging in sexual intercourse, and it’s enough to have you banned from the library for the rest of your time at this university.” you can’t help but let your jaw drop slack in disbelief as you and xiaojun are escorted out after the librarian gives a curt nod to the officer

the night air is crisp as it stings your cheeks the moment you walk out of the library— more like thrown out

the door slams shut behind you before you can even catch your footing; you turn around and scoff at the doors, peeved from the rude librarian and this whole misunderstanding

“do you think they’ll actually kick us out of the library for the rest of our time here?” xiaojun asks into the cold air, smoke curling out of his mouth 

you turn to him, suddenly remembering where you two were before you got interrupted

you thought that whole ordeal would squelch the yearning between your thighs, but alas, seeing xiaojun in front of you reminds you of your two choices

you can either ask this stranger to come back to your dorm for the night or leave him as a memory of your time at university

...well, if you’re going to be accused of having sex with him, might as well  make it a fact on your own accord

“if they do, we’ll have one crazy story to tell when people ask about how we met.” 

xiaojun laughs bitterly and nods at your words, then as he digests them he lifts his head sharply to catch you already walking away, throwing a look over your shoulder to catch his dumbfounded expression

“wait... when people ask how we met? you mean we’re gonna—”

“didn’t you say you’ll walk me home? hurry up before I change my mind.”

[nctworststuff]

— 𖡼 ָ࣪ ﹆ׂׂ ⦂ Us? | Bestfriend!Jeno | Fluf, Angst, heartbreak warning

•°•°•°

It's been 4 years, 4 years you friend with Jeno, the best of best friend you ever have.

He always told you that he promised he will stay beside you no matter if you were in an up or down situation. And he isn't lying about that. Sometimes you feel the "more than friends" vibe

"Don't worry, you don't need to hide anything from me. I would gladly hear about it"

If the sky turns grey, he will fade it away and colours it with his sincere heart and that's what he does towards you. You love the fact that he always waiting for you everytime

When your shift is done, he doesn't forget to wait for you in front of your work place. Although it's raining, he still waiting for you. It's rare for him to not wait for you. Hey, don't forget to have a night walk with him, where the temperature feel so cold, and the vibe at this time is very safe and classic when you are with him

"Oh, I thought, you want to walk home alone?"

"I was just kidding idiot. I never leave you alone"

When you sleep beside him, he will carry you to your bed and whisper something to you. He will caress your head and you find him asleep beside you the next morning.

"Sweet dream. Remember that tomorrow is going better than today"

When you are on your period, you will have a mood swings and you don't need to tell him cuz he can guess it. He will spoil you alooottt.

You want to go to watch movies in the cinema? He is totally fine with it. You forgot to bring your money? Don't worry you don't need to care about it cuz he is with you. You want some snacks? Why he have to buy it if he already preparing to surprise you with it? You want a new phone? Umm maybe he will think twice again.

"What y/n want y/n gets''

"You have money to take her to the Maldive trip? I never know"

"Shut up Chenle"

When you crying or feel down, he will ask you about it, and he tries to calm you down and cuddle with you alllll day. Or maybe when he is rich af at that time, he will take you on a luxury vacation and not forget to go shopping. Cuz he promised you that he will be with you forever.

"Here is your coffee. Wanna tell about it?"

"Sure. Are you okay if I tell you?"

"Just tell me. Or else I do it by myself to found your problems"

Sometimes you have a love-hate friendship with him. Misunderstanding is the normal thing between you two. He sometimes feels jealous or sad when you spend all your time with another friend although of the same gender. Fighting? Oh yeah, the small things sometimes can be a big thing okay. For example, food. If you open a refrigerator and "accidentally" found chocolate or maybe something else that is his food, of course, you will eat it. Once Jeno found about it, you are in danger lol. Like, he not talking with you all day or maybe just ignore you?

"Hey talk to me. It's just a fucking cheesecake"

"Not until you buy back the cheesecake you eat yesterday"

You smile at the memory that is flashing in your mind

And now?

Now?

Now...

He is totally different from before you can tell?

He found someone. Yes, someone. Someone that people say "no one can replace her" and whatsoever. Jeno meets his girlfriend in the cafe shop and that's how she confess her feeling to Jeno and Jeno accept it. You are sad and disappointed about it. You just don't have an idea if it is called jealousy or maybe something else.

You almost crying when you found out about it. That's why he acts strangely all these days, cuz he found someone new. You found that you were mad at yourself and it's hurt you more when he keeps his distance from you. It's not like you can do the things with him like before

"Why do you keep your distance and acts like a stranger? Can't we just act normal like before?"

"Sorry y/n, my girlfriend told me to do that, she... She said that she was uncomfortable about it and jealous although if we just talking normal thing...sorry"

"Ohh...good"

Those feeling before you have, now you thought it's all fake. Fake. You feel betrayed. You know it's not his girl's fault but still, you can feel the scar.

When you make eye contact with him without purpose, you quickly avoid it. You now try to avoid meeting him.

When you meet him, you can feel the guilt in his eyes. Sometimes you realised his action that he wants to fix it again. You just ignore him. You try to ignore him but you cant. All you can do now is just to be a stranger. Yes. Stranger.

You feel regret and angry when you found out that you are actually in love with him. You just know all those feeling are called love. Tsk, how stupid are you? You are late. And he is late too.

Sad, disappointed, angry, betrayed, all in one

Now, you have to let him go because sometimes love to mean that we have to leave them and let them go to be happier. Whatever you go through, life is still going on.

Sometimes you meet him, but not talking too long, because you know your line especially when he with his girlfriend

You just have to wait. Wait to deserve someone else who can accept you. Accept your feelings

I'm sorry y/n. I try to find my feelings for you and try to confess them. But I'm too late and ended up with someone else. I'm not sure about the feelings and not sure if I regret my decision. I can feel your disappointment in your eyes when I meet yours. I'm sorry...

°•©nctworststuff

[your-denki-kun]

Things Said

Kirishima Eijirou x Sibling!Reader

A/N: This was inspired by a youtube video, but I changed it up. I’ll put the link at the end of this A/N. Anyway, requests are welcome, no smut, but I do write one-shots/fanfics and headcanons. You can also send in questions if you want to, I’m bored. Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes, I have dyslexia and Englisch is not my mother language. The video is an ASMR video btw in an age regression setting. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2UIhcHeAupU&t=670s

What: Angst, Fluff, Screaming, Being wrongly accused, Crying.

Word count: 2668

~3rd person pov.~

A few days ago Eijirou lashed out on you, saying some nasty things. Of course he apologized, especially when he found out it was a misunderstanding on his part, but you've been acting off ever since.

You're less cheery and the sparkles in your eyes have dulled significantly. It worries him, but he doesn't know what to do to fix it since he isn't entirely sure what caused your odd behavior, he has a hunch, but he isn't sure.

Right now you're up in your room and Eijirou's is on his way to his own room. As he walks past your room he hears you faintly talking, which is confusing cause the conversation sounds one sided.

He walks over to your door and slightly opens it. Peeking around the corner and into your room he sees you sitting in the middle of your room. It seems you're talking to something or someone, but it's hard for him to see because your back is facing the door.

''Do you think I’ve been behaving good enough, Mister Fluff?'' He hears you ask softly and the name you used informs him you're talking to the stuffed animal he got you a few years ago.

He had bought it for your fourth birthday and it's been your favorite since. It's a bright red, fluffy dog that is about a meter from head to butt.

''Nii-san seems happier with me, but I don't know if I've been good enough. I should probably try harder, be better. Maybe I should start saying yes or sure instead of okay.'' Your voice sounds sad as you speak and it breaks the redhead’s heart. ''I think I should do that. Maybe it'll make nii-san like me again.''

Eijirou's eyes tear up at that last statement as his heart shatters inside his chest. unconsciously he walks into the room carefully and over to you, he crouches down and wraps his arms around you from behind, holding your small figure close to him as he buries his face in your hair.

A startled yelp leaves you as soon as you feel his arms around you, but once you notice it's your older brother you relax and let him hug you, staring down at the red dog plush you have in your lap, petting the fabric gently like it's a real dog. You can slightly feel Eijirou shake, but the movement is so small you aren't sure he actually is.

''I never stopped liking you, Little Shark.'' He mumbles causing you to freeze up once again.

''....Don't lie. Mommy says it's bad to lie. Ever since the fight you've been acting different around me, I know you don't like me anymore, you said so yourself.''

~Flashback~

''Little Shark! Did you touch my laptop?!'' Eijirou calls as he walks over to the living room where you're watching TV.

''No nii-san. You said I can't touch it unless you give me permission, so of course I didn't. Why?'' You ask, looking away from the TV and at your angry looking older brother.

''Because it's broken and you and me are the only ones home. Now be honest and tell me, did you break my laptop?''

''No, I didn't nii-san.''

''Liar!''

''I'm not lying! I didn't come into your room, I swear!'' You exclaim shocked as you get up and walk closer to him.

''Stop lying! You know you can't lie!''

''I’m not lying!''

''Than how did it break!''

''I don't know!''

''So you did break it!''

''I didn't!''

''Ugh! You can be so annoying and bothersome!'' He exclaims in annoyance as he stares at the ceiling and runs his hands down his face.

''But I didn't even touch it.'' You whisper with wide eyes.

''Just stop lying! Just admit you broke it!''

''I didn't, I swear to god!''

''Don't swear to shit when you're lying! God I hate you so much sometimes!''

''....What?'' You whisper so softly he barely hears.

''I said I hate you, that you're annoying and bothersome! You're the worst sibling someone could ever have! What did I do to deserve having you as my sibling?! Why can't you just ever tell the truth and do as told?! Why do you always have to cross the fucking lines?!''

''Nii-san yo-''

''SHUT UP!! Go to your room and don't you dare come out ‘till you can tell me the truth!''

''I am! I didn't break it!'' You exclaim as a single tear falls.

''GO TO YOUR FUCKING ROOM!!!''

You shrink back at how loud he yells and scramble up to your room, tears blurring your vision as they stream down your face like waterfalls. Reaching your room you run inside, slam your door shut and sit in the corner as you hug Mister Fluff close and sob into his fabric.

Downstairs Eijirou releases a loud, frustrated sigh before he heads up to his room, stress organizing it to try and calm himself down. As he's cleaning he finds a note with the handwriting of the female who cleans the house, asking him to call her when he finds the note. Frowning Eijirou grabs his phone and dials her number.

''Ah, Eijirou, you found the note. Thank god.'' Yumi's familiar voice sighs in relieve as soon as she picks up.

''Hey, I did find the note. Is something wrong? Did something happen?'' Eijirou asks, confused as to why he has to call her.

''Do you remember my grandchild?''

''You mean Takumi? I remember him, did something happen to him?''

''No, but I took him to work today because his parents were at work and I had to babysit him because no one else could.''

''That's fine, sometimes that happens. I thought mom and dad said you could?''

''I know, but you know how boys can be curious and touch things they aren't supposed to.''

''I do, I myself used to do that a lot.'' Eijirou frowns, not really knowing what Yumi is getting at.

''Well, he went into your room and broke your laptop. He wanted to ask if he could use it and picked it up, but he dropped it when he tripped over his laces. I'm so sorry. I'll of course cover the cost and everything.'' She cries over the phone.

''I'm sure you will.'' Eijirou says as his eyes widen in shock.

''I'm sorry. He's just so clumsy sometimes.''

''It's fine. Things like that happen.''

''I'll pay for everything and I'll make sure he's punished.''

''Hey, it's okay. We can go over what we'll do with costs later, but accidents happen. Just, tell him to be careful with other peoples stuff and that he shouldn't pick up things that aren't his unless he has permission.''

''Of course, I will do that!''

''Now, I have to go. We'll talk later.''

''Is something wrong? Are you mad at him?! I can punish him! You don't have to spare him because he's my grandchild!''

''It's fine, Yumi, I'm not mad at him, I swear. I just have a little situation over here which I need to fix. We'll talk later, okay?''

''Okay.''

''Bye Yumi.''

''Bye Eijirou.''

''Shit!''

Eijirou throws his phone onto his bed and speed walks over to your room, hearing sobs which grow louder the closer he gets. Reaching your room he opens the door and his heart breaks at the sight of you sobbing your eyes out as you shake uncontrollably.

''Little Shark....''

He feels his gut twist and heart break even more at the way you flinch and try making yourself smaller, trying to muffle your uncontrollable sobs. Carefully he walks closer and crouches down in front of your small figure.

''Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Yumi told me what happened, I should have believed you. I’m so sorry Sharky.'' He whispers, reaching out to but halting his movement when you move away from his touch. ''Sharky....''

Eijirou feels his own eyes tear up at the sight of you sobbing and moving away from him, as if you're scared off him. He sits down on the floor, staring at you helplessly as he tries figuring out what to do to make it up to you.

''I didn't mean the things I said, I swear. I..... I should have believed you. You're always good and never really lie about things like this. I was just so mad my laptop broke, seeing I use it a lot for school and really need it. I'm not mad anymore though, not at you at least.'' He rambles as he tries locking eyes with you, but failing.

''Can you please look at me, Little Shark?'' You weakly glance at him and he wobbly smiles at you. ''There those beautiful eyes are. I'm really sorry, I should have never yelled at you or said the things I said. I've just been so stressed. I have a lot of tests soon and I can barely sleep. That's no excuse, I know that.

I just wanted you to know. God I fucked up so bad. I really hurt you, didn't I, Sharky? Oh who am I kidding, of course I did. I'm so sorry, I'll never yell at you like that again, okay? I-I'll buy you something you really want to make it up to you. We can go get ice cream or watch a movie or anything. Just stop crying please.'' He rambles in a pleading tone as he flails his arms around.

''Do you really hate me?'' You sniffle softly after a bit.

''No! No, I love you with my whole heart. I could never hate you, Little Shark. You're the best sibling I could ever wish for and I hate that I just told you all those awful things I didn't even mean.''

You stare at him, searching his eyes as you slightly uncurl yourself. The action causes a smile to appear on Eijirou's face as he moves closer, opening his arms hesitantly, silently asking for a hug. Slowly you move closer and hug him tightly, burying your face in his chest. He's quick to wrap his arms around you and hold you close.

''I'm so sorry, Little Shark. I didn't mean anything I said when I was mad. I love you.''

You don't reply and silently sit in his lap, letting him cradle you as you feel your eyes getting heavy and closing against your will.

~flashback over~

''I didn't mean that, Little Shark. I was just mad because I thought you broke my laptop and were lying to me, saying you didn't.''

''But you said you hate me and that I am the worst sibling ever and that I'm only a bother and annoying.'' You whisper as your eyes tear up, remembering how he had yelled at you with so much hate in his eyes.

''And I'm sorry, I didn't mean those things. I thought we cleared this?'' Eijirou whispers as he lets go of you and goes to sit in front of you, seeing the tears about to spill from your eyes.

''We did, but I know that deep down you meant what you said, that you thinking I broke your laptop was just an excuse to say what you really think.'' You say, looking him in the eyes as the tears fall from your eyes.

''That's not true, Little Shark, not at all. You're the best sibling ever and I love you.'' A gentle smile adorns his face as he reaches out to wipe away your tears as your figure shakes. ''I explained why I said what I said, didn't I?''

''You did.'' You mumble as you look down at your lap.

''And you forgave me, right?''

''I did.''

''So why are you saying you need to be better and that I did mean the things I said? You are perfect the way you are and all the mean things I said weren't true.''

''Because your eyes looked so angry and... And like you meant it and....... It hurt me. It made me think you hate me and don't want me as your sibling and then you keep acting so off, like you just apologized to make me feel better and that you didn't mean it and that....... That you do hate me.'' You softly sniffle as you wipe at your eyes.

''Little Shark........''

''Is it true? Did you only apo-ologize to make me feel bette-er?'' You softly sob as you look at him with broken eyes.

''No! I apologized because I meant it. I..... I just feel so guilty for what I did that I don't really know what to do to make it up to you. The way you acted and looked at me that day made me realize just how much my words affected you and I knew it would leave marks. I want to make it up to you so the marks are as small as possible.'' He explains as he pulls you onto his lap.

''Maybe I should have communicated that, that I want to make it up and that I love you. I.... I just feel so bad, I don't..... God..... I really screwed up, huh?'' He asks as the tears fall from his eyes and his hold tightens.

''I always thought I..... I always believed that I was a good guy, that I would never hurt people like so many hurt me, but... I just hurt you just the way others hurt me. I said the worst things I could ever say to you and..... I just know they'll hunt you for ever, that the words will never leave. That a part of you will always believe those words are the truth.

I regret every single word, but.... Just saying sorry won't fix the damage I made. I.... I said I hated you, my favorite person in the world. I...... I said you were the worst and that you can't do anything right. I don't know why I said that, I wish I never said those things. I wish I could go back in time and stop myself from saying any of the things I said.

I am the worst sibling. I hate myself for what I did to you. You're only eight and now I'll be the reason you'll doubt your own self worth. I'll be the reason you will hate yourself in the future. Why can't I do anything right?'' He sobs as he holds you close and shakes violently.

''Nii-san?'' You whisper softly, both in shock and confusion.

''Hmm?''

''You're a good nii-san. You always think of me first, you're super strong and manly and you're always here for me. I'm not mad about the things you said to me, they just hurt. Cause I know nii-san can be really stressed from school, so I try to not be that much of a bother and to make sure you can relax when at home.

When you said those things I..... I thought I failed at that part and I still kinda do, but I guess deep down I know you didn't mean what you said, but the words have been said and they hurt. I know you're sorry however and regret what you said. So I forgive you. I just need to heal in my own way. I love you nii-san.''

''I love you too, Little Shark, so much. And you always do such a good job and making me relax, it just spilled that day.''

''I know.'' You whisper as you cuddle up to him.

The two of you sit there for a while, Eijirou holding you close as you just let him. Loosening his hold he leans back slightly and smiles at you before kissing your forehead, making it linger.

''Can we do something together nii-san?'' You ask as he pulls back.

''Of course, what do you want to do?''

''Uhm.... Can we play together?''

''Sure, what do you want to play?''

''Heroes! And I'll be the strong and manly Red Riot who saves the hostage which is you!''

[shyficwriter]

Who's Tougher part 2

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!) Guest starring Thor

Summary: So the Guardians now know you aren't Terran. That makes things awkward, but things only get more awkward when they find out what you are.

Author’s Note: Part 1 here.

Word Count: 3,337

"Any chance we can just forget that happened?" you ask, nervously chuckling as you wring your hands. "I promise I'll fix that-" you stand up and look again at the ruined metal that was once the arm of a chair, "or uh... replace it?" You grin hopefully, though you were sure it came out more like a grimace.

"No! Of course we're not just gonna forget that happened!" Peter cried, his face a mix of startled amazement and incredulity, like he couldn't quite believe what he had just witnessed from his friend. "Are you crazy!? What are you!?"

You shrank back a bit, his words stung a little, whether he intended them to or not. "Ok, I had a feeling that wouldn't fly..." Your gaze dropped to the table. What were you? You were his friend... right?

"Why did you lie?" Gamora asked, not nearly as harshly as Peter, but it hurt more regardless.

You furrow your brows as you look up to her, insulted. "Hey! I didn't lie!"

"You said you was from Terra." Kraglin interjected. "An' you ain't a Terran. Think that counts as lyin'." He sat back in his chair, eyeing you. Yondu still stood next to him, doing the same.

Drax, still sat in his chair but removing his electrode leads, then threw in a, "Friends shouldn't lie," with Groot nodding in agreement as well as Mantis, but you ignored them.

"I was born there- Pretty sure that counts as 'being from' someplace." You suppressed the urge to call him a jerk and crossed your arms in front of you with a hurt expression. "Not my fault you filled in the blanks yourselves."

Yondu spoke up now. "Ya didn't exactly tell us otherwise, either." He doesn't sound angry or as confused or suspicious like the others, his statement was more matter-of-fact. You had been with the team longer than he had, but in the time that he had known you, you had never given an inclining that you were anything other than a normal Terran like Quill- or well, maybe that's a bad example... but now that Ego is dead that probably makes him a normal Terran, right?

You merely responded to him with, "You didn't ask." You had a feeling that likely wouldn't go over well, but you were too busy being offended for being called a liar to give it much thought before it was out of your mouth.

Peter made noises that couldn't be classified as words as he waved his hands around in exasperation. "Wha- You- HOW- Were we really just supposed to ask, 'Hey, do you have any cool or weird powers you haven't told us about? Like glowing eyes or the ability to crush metal with your bare freaking hands?!'"

You don't respond, just stare off into a corner.

"I think you better start talking. Or, ya know, we can always hook you back up to this thing you hated so much until you spill the goods." Rocket said with a chuckle, holding up what you now mentally dubbed as a torture device. You couldn't quite tell if he was trying to lighten the mood or not, but either way it didn't work.

You blush and instinctively wrap your arms protectively around your middle. "You don't have to be mean about it..." you say, not making eye contact with anyone.

"Ok," says Gamora, trying to calm the situation down, holding her hands up in a placating gesture. "I think what Peter means is why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you feel you could trust us?"

That hurt. You didn't want them to think you thought so little of them. You sigh, "It's not like that. I just- I dunno."

"You don't know?" Gamora repeated, an eyebrow raised.

"Look, I'm sorry. Ok? It's not that I didn't trust you, I trust you guys with my life! I do! I- I just couldn't. I don't have a better answer." You did actually, but it was too complicated. You wanted to melt into the floor.

"Hey, I got a question." Kraglin spoke back up when everyone else seemed to be at a loss for words. "'While back, when Thor was here, he told you he thought ya looked familiar, and you got all nervous-like when you told him he was mistaken. Now, at the time I thought you was just crushin' on him mighty hard, but now you've got me thinking maybe you didn't wanna be recognized."

You cringed. You knew what he was referring to. When Thor had briefly been with the Guardians he came up to you, stating he swore he knew you from somewhere. You had replied that you merely had 'one of those faces' and that he was mistaking you for someone else before scurrying off to talk to Gamora.

You had lied.

Kraglin continued. "Cuz now that I think about it, you're kinda like him... Kinda like a-"

You knew what he was about to say, and you hated it. "Please don't-"

He finished the sentence anyway, "-god."

Something seemed to click for the rest of the team and they now stared at you wide-eyed. Little Groot's mouth dropped open, while Mantis covered hers. Peter and Gamora exchanged stunned glances with Drax. Yondu and Rocket each raised an eyebrow while Kraglin just looked at you expectantly for an answer.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Please don't call me that."

Peter stared at you. "You're a god?!" All this time... All this freaking time one of his friends had been a god and never told him?? Were you a celestial like Ego? Were you another Asgardian like Thor? He had so many questions, but couldn't verbalize any of them in his shock.

You shoot Kraglin a pained look. "Dammit! You've gone and made it all weird!" You turn back to Peter. "No! I'm not a god!" This seemed to relax the others some, but not much. Yeah, you seemed cool, but why hide you could do what you just did to the chair? What else were you hiding?

"But ya are, aren't ya? Like Thor, I mean." Kraglin pressed.

You scrambled for the right words. "I- No- Well, not exactly..." You hated this. Everything was so simple ten minutes ago, couldn't you just go back to that?

"I'm calling him." Rocket says, pulling out his media pad and beginning to dial.

"Wait! No no no no no!" you exclaim, stepping forward with your hands raised. You realized you shouldn't have done that, it looked suspicious as hell, but you panicked.

Rocket looked up at you, smirking, "Why? Is it because he'll recognize you and confirm you're like him? Or... wait..." He thought for a second. "Are you some kind of fugitive?"

"No!" you say, wincing. "I mean-" You brush a hand over your face. "Ok. I did know him," you admitted, making Kraglin laugh out a "Knew it!" You shoot him a look before returning to Rocket. "I'm not a god- or a fugitive- I would just rather he -uh- didn't remember me." Truthfully, it wasn't Thor you were worried about, it was his brother, and if Thor remembered you there was a chance he'd bring it up to Loki. But, that was another story for another day. Or never. Never was good.

The rest of the team gave you a weird look for a moment. Eventually Gamora asked suspiciously, "Why?" You being vague wasn't exactly helping you right now, but you couldn't help it.

"Just... personal reasons." you reply, hoping it would be enough.

Spoiler: it wasn't.

"Yeah, no, I'm calling him." Rocket said, he had already dialed and it was ringing. If there was one thing Rocket liked, it was uncovering other people's secrets, usually to hold them over there heads, and Thor was clearly a lead to figuring out yours.

Your eyes went wide in panic again and you tried to stop him, but before you could do anything Thor's face appeared in the screen and you muttered an, "Aw, fuck."

"Rabbit! Hi! It's been a bit, what brings you to call me?" Thor said cheerfully. "And everyone else is there, too! Hello!"

Mantis waved cutely at the screen and the others verbalized their greetings. Well, aside from Yondu and Kraglin, who just gave a nod to be polite.

"Hey Thor," Rocket started, "I was hoping you could settle something. You remember our friend here, right?" He turned the screen to you and you quickly changed your expression from exasperated pleading as you mouthed the word "No!" over and over with a wave of your hands into to a forced smile as you waved and awkwardly said "Hi, Thor..."

Rocket grinned, taking glee in watching you squirm. Yes, partially because he was a dick, but also because he was actually offended that you, his pranking buddy, had kept something like this from him. It hurt, and this was how he was choosing to deal with that.

"You know, I thought I did, but I was told it was a misunderstanding... although..." Thor said thoughtfully, squinting his eyes.

Your stomach sank.

Thors face lit up. "Oh yes! I knew I recognized you! You were one of mine and Loki's playmates when Mother and Father would visit old friends on Earth!"

You winced but retained your forced smile, but it immediately fell with what he said next.

"You were the lovely Nephilim girl that Loki would get into so much trouble with!" Thor laughed heartily. "My, it's been a long time. I don't really remember why we didn't keep in touch..."

Your eyes grew wide, you didn't expect him to just blurt out what you were right there and then. Part of you had still been naive enough to think it could have been avoided altogether. However, you didn't have much time to dwell on it before the other shoe dropped. Your stomach jumped into your throat when he asked, "Loki's around here somewhere... Would you like me to fetch him?"

"No!" you say, a little too loudly, before trying to cover, "No, that's fine Thor. I- I don't think that's the best idea!"

Thor didn't hear you, he was already too busy calling for Loki.

The others could see you were real nervous about Thor putting Loki on the call. Yondu and Kraglin exchanged a look that was a mix of suspicion and amusement. It was evident now you had been telling the truth about not being a fugitive, but why were you so nervous? Was this Loki fella an ex-boyfriend or something? And what even was a Nephlilim?

The question on Gamora's mind was why were you avoiding what were apparently your childhood friends if they didn't seem to be angry with you?

Rocket just grinned a shit-eating grin, clearly thinking he was about to see something very funny -- meaning completely embarrassing for you-- happen.

He wouldn't get to see that happen, however, because with a quick, "Goodbye, Thor!" you lunged forward to push the button that would end the call just before Rocket could pull away.

"Hey!" Rocket complained, "You know I can just call him back, right?"

"Later, Rat." Yondu said, looking at you inquisitively. "He said ya were a Nephilim, what's that?" He didn't think you were dangerous from what he'd seen of you before today. You were about as damn goofy as Peter was... but what if that had been a cover this whole time? He did just see you destroy that chair arm without even realizing, like it was nothing. Why else would you have hidden who/what you were from the team? He had to be cautious.

Peter spoke up. "I've heard of those. My grandparents made me go to Sunday school. It's like the baby of an angel and a human... and they're like... super powerful... but- but you're not supposed to be real!" he said, amazement in his eyes. "I thought that was all religious bullcrap! Does this mean that God, like thee God is real??" He was asking out of utter disbelief rather than anything, having never actually believed in any of that stuff, especially after being taken by Yondu when he was a boy.

You cringed so hard. "Peter please. You're being so embarrassing right now!" You covered your face before letting your hands fall again. The rest of the team just kind of stared at each other, not really sure what to do with all this information. "Look, if the dude exists, I've never met him, and that Terran religion stuff made things so awkward for people like me. And you wonder why I didn't tell!"

Now Peter looked a little sorry, and to your surprise he actually apologized. "Look, ok, I'm sorry. You're right, but can you blame us?"

Your shoulders fell and you sighed, breaking your gaze from his. "I get it, I do. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but why does it matter what I am? I'm still me. I'm still the same person."

Drax spoke up for the first time in a while, standing up from his chair to stand with you as he patted you on the shoulder. "This small neffle-thing is right. We are family. It shouldn't matter what anyone is."

You awkwardly pat his hand on your shoulder, honestly not expecting the sudden solidarity. "Thanks, buddy."

"I do have a question though." he added, removing his hand.

You dropped your head, muttering, "Dammit."

"Peter said your kind are very powerful, does that mean this whole time you've been holding back on missions?"

The realization of what Drax had asked put strange expressions on half the faces of your team. The kinda look that says, "Hey! You've been holding out on us! What the hell?!" Rocket nearly verbalized this sentiment as such with a, "Hey! He's right! How many jobs could we have just been in and out of with a snap of your fingers?! Rude, is what that is."

"Ok, first off, I can't make anything happen 'with the snap of my fingers,' ok? I just want to make that clear," you scolded. Your cheeks began to grow hot as you continued, "and secondly... um... none."

"None!? Quill just said you were some super powerful being, and you're really gonna tell us that none of your powers could have helped us on any of those missions?" Rocket stood staring at you in disbelief, his hands on his hips in a way that would have been super adorable if you weren't so uncomfortable right now.

"Yeah, I'm not exactly great at... controlling them." you admitted, rubbing your arm.

"You can't control them?" Gamora asked, sounding a bit surprised, and maybe a little sympathetic too.

"No." You admitted again, begrudgingly. You saw they were looking at you like they wanted some sort of explanation, so you sighed before making wildish gestures with your hands at the ruined chair arm, saying sarcastically, "Exhibit A! I broke the damn chair just because the damn trash panda... tickled me too hard with his electrocution-torture- thingy..." your sentence trailed off in a mix of bitterness and embarrassment, your face flushed a decent shade of scarlet as you crossed your arms. "You know, if you ask me this is all his fault. We wouldn't be having this conversation if it weren't for him."

"You can't blame me! It was supposed to hurt! Not my fault you didn't tell us you're some weird-god thing." Rocket then proceeded to mock you. "oH No! NoT AN elEcTRiC SHOCK! IT TiCkLES TOO mUcH! i'm GOnnA bEg ROCkEt FOR MERCY And BreAK A ChAIR BeCAUsE eVEn ThOUgh I'm a GOD i'm StiLL a Big bABy!"

"I hate you," you say flatly, glaring at him before looking up at the ceiling in frustration as you said, "and stop calling me a god, I'm not a god!"

The sound of laughter brought your gaze back to the team. It was Rocket, of course. Yondu and Kraglin were also snickering, mostly due to your pouty expression, but Rocket was definitely the loudest. You frowned. "It's not funny."

"The hell if it ain't," Yondu laughed. Everyone had been so surprised by what you had done to the chair that they actually had forgotten what had made you do it in the first place.

"Aw, don't give us that long face," Kraglin teased, still laughing. "It could've been worse. Getting tickled til ya break a chair is a whole lot less embarrasin' than gettin' tickled til yer pissin' yer pants."

You gave Kraglin a scandalized look as his comment earned snickers from more of the team. He might have been trying to make you feel better, but he had actually only embarrassed you more. The only one not actually laughing was Gamora, and she looked like she was going to tell the others off for you, but she was cut off by Rocket.

"Oh cheer up, or I'll do it again!" Rocket laughed, giving you a mischievous look. "That'll teach you to blame me! If you and Quill hadn't been bickering all the time I wouldn't have made this thing to shut you up!"

You glared at him. "Threaten me with that again and I'm taking it," you warned.

To your surprise, Yondu took that moment and actually snatched the device from Rocket himself. This surprised Rocket too, and he looked up at Yondu with a dejected, "Hey!"

"Sorry there, Rat, but we don't need anymore broken chairs." He chuckled and slipped you a wink as he slipped the device into one of the inside pockets of his duster. He might have been making a joke at your expense as he did it, but you were grateful for the gesture nonetheless. You didn't need Rocket threatening you with it every time he wanted something from you- and you know he would have. As did Yondu, hence why he snatched it. You may have been a goofy little shit like Peter, and you may have hidden powers (and don't get him wrong, he was still going to keep an eye on you), but he still liked ya well enough to save you from a sadistic raccoon, for now.

Rocket pouted, muttering something about "Never let me have any fun!" as he collected Groot and sulked off.

You smiled at Yondu in return, glad the mood had been somewhat lifted, even if it was at your own expense. After a beat you look back to Peter. "Are we good?" you asked, with so much more meaning behind those three words than just asking if you two were good. Peter could see that you were desperately asking not only for forgiveness, but acceptance. There was thinly veiled fear and nervousness in your eyes that he might cast you out for keeping this secret from the team, from him. It made him feel a little guilty.

He looked at you softly. "Yeah. I mean, I still have a lot of questions, but yeah, we're good."

"I guess that's fair," you say, a relieved grin cracking your face. "But another day, ok? It's late and I'm tired." With that you excused yourself for bed, barely waiting for an acknowledgment of what you said before you were walking away, eager to just get away from this conversation for now. You did smirk a little, however, when you heard Drax ask Peter if you being a "Neffleling" meant you were the tougher one, only for Peter to sigh irritably and say, "No, Drax," and Kraglin to laugh in response and say to Peter, "Nah, I think it does," just to rile him up.

Once you were gone Kraglin spoke again, wondering out loud what had happened with Loki that made you so nervous when Rocket called Thor.

This made Peter look back and share a look with the rest of the team. Kraglin was right. You were nervous enough to hang up the phone when Thor called for Loki to join the conversation. Nervous enough to wish Thor didn't remember your face.

What had happened?