#calling X’s field of research a “field of research” is a little funny when he’s called the genius of useless inventions

[phaedinphaedout]

I figured this out last night and I feel like it’s a very obvious fact that was glaring me in the face in hindsight but bc I haven’t seen anyone explicitly mention this I have decided to Break My Silence and hopefully string together a coherent sentence X and MP had me confused for a bit bc they’re both researchers…..scientists……in Laplace Institute (idc for the name) and ik they’re in different departments or w/e but for some reason X’s field of research is so much clearer than MP’s in comparison Turns out I was just not playing connect the dots hard enough anyway check this out

First thought for me here was: oh, MP made the Picrasma Candy?? Cool, v cool Second thought: what does being a masochist have to do with researching…..

I scroll back up on the wiki. I read these descriptions. Suddenly I understand

So MP uses their own body for experiments. Ohhh, ok. That explains why all their voicelines and other things are about stabbing themself with a syringe or asking you [Vertin] to write stuff down or smth along those lines……it’s bc MP [is] the test subject, MP doesn’t need any other bitches bc they ARE that bitch……..

This is in comparison to X’s voicelines, where he asks you to participate in experiments more often than MP does

And from what we can infer from some of MP’s voicelines, some of the experiments they conduct on themselves (likely done in Wilderness/Vertin’s suitcase) - probably experiments where it’s more life-risking/dangerous for them (hey dude, in what situation would you be counting your ribs??) - are experiments they’re not allowed to conduct in Laplace Research Institute (which gives them a viable reason to join Vertin’s group). The experiments MP normally conducts should all be related to general physical testing, if you consider the mentions of a training ground, frisbees, etc, and that’s probably how they managed to develop Picrasma Candy as well (through rigorous testing until they developed the current best formula for the candy)

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

request: hiii idk if u take these kinds of requests but id like to see jealous reader (preferably if reader and hoshina are already in an established relationship and reader works in a different division, meaning they dont get to see each other much) like maybe he’s used to calling okonogi “my dear” and its the first reader heard him call anyone with a pet name like that and she starts to overthink and gets pouty/ sulky and hoshina doesnt notice it at first but when he does he starts teasing her which doesnt help HAHAHAHA if its ok can it be hurt/ comfort and end in fluff & HELLO!! can i request an angst to fluff with hoshina where reader thinks he likes okonogi more than him especially since he is against revealing him n reader’s relationship to the third division (for other reasons of course). hopefully this isnt too specific!! i hope u have a wonderful day:))

notes: hoshina calls the reader “darling”, hurt comfort, him accepting jealousy a valid emotion (very important to me i fear), so sorry i merged the reqs!! i hope this was satisfactory for both TY FOR THE REQ!, this is a twt thread i thought about while writing this, (l/n) mention in the bonus part

wc: 1400

Oh, you hated when this happened. You hated when your heart started to tighten in this horrible way you knew well. You hated being jealous.

You hated how self centered it made you feel and how it ate away at your thoughts and feelings. It made you feel like your good thoughts were disintegrating to horrible ones. However, what you hated even more was how it meant you were doubting his love for you— and that was the last thing you wanted to do. You didn't want to doubt him, nor did you doubt him, but when the jealousy got to your head it was over. You were stuck in a loop.

To top it off, the cause of this all was truly harmless and hardly that big of a deal, but that's usually how most anxious thoughts start. They start little.

You were called to visit the 3rd Division to help with research on a field you were particularly knowledgeable on, and you happened to hear Hoshina's laughter from the operation room, so you went in to take a peek.

“It was not that funny,” Okonogi was saying to him, but Hoshina only continued to laugh.

“Yes, it definitely was,” he laughed. “I knew Kafka would forget about that hole in the training grounds again.”

“Why don't you remind him, then?”

“Comedic relief, of course.”

“Alright then.”

“Okonogi dear, you're no fun,” he said.

They said a few more things, but you couldn't seem to focus on their words. ‘Dear’? Was that merely a simple pet name? Or was there more to them than you initially expected?

Oh, the worries started to fill your head. And they were things you didn't want to be worried about— Okonogi was always so sweet to you when you popped by and you knew Hoshina loved you. The last thing you wished to do was doubt them, nor did you want to make things awkward around them. There were just so many things that you just didn't know about, being in a different division as him. You doubted they even knew you were dating, and the voice in your head would only get louder.

It was then that Hoshina saw you at the doorway and called over to you.

“Are you done with work?” he asked, his voice excited and hopeful. Your heart stung.

“Not quite yet,” you tried to sound disappointed, but for the right reason. “I’ll get going now.”

You walked away from the room as quickly as you could, seemingly naturally. You didn't want to be there and you didn't want to talk to him before calming down first— you were sure you'd say something silly if you spoke now.

Yet, immediately you heard footsteps behind you and a hand you knew well grab yours.

“Soushirou?” you asked, turning to look behind you.

“What's wrong?” he asked, his voice soft and visible concern in his eyes. “Do you feel unwell?”

Pang in your chest again.

“Not at all, nothing's wrong?” you said, but you could see the way he pursued his lips— the hurt in his eyes from how you wouldn't tell him what was troubling you. Gosh, why did you feel this way? Why must you feel much silly emotions.

“It's truly so stupid,” you said. “I'll tell you another time.”

“Alright,” he said, letting go of your hand. That one was your bad— you knew he wouldn't push you any further, even if he wanted to.

Dinner that night was awkward. You weren't even that jealous, but the fact that you felt something was gnawing at your brain upset you. Not to mention the fact that you were keeping something from him made you feel even worse.

“How was your training?” you asked.

“Alright, I suppose,” he said. There was a horrible moment of silence. You weren’t sure what to say.

“I think I’m getting a hang of this new technique,” he finally continued, but you wouldn’t look up at him— you were afraid he wouldn’t look your way.

“I see,” you said. “That’s really cool… I’d like to see someday.”

“I’ll show you as soon as its better,” he said.

The rest of dinner felt… quiet. The two of you still talked throughout it but it was terribly different from the usual lively catch-up you’d have— it was heart-wrenching quite frankly.

So as you’d imagine, going to sleep was even worse. You subconsciously faced away from him and pretended to fall asleep quickly, hoping he’d sleep soon too. You hated what was going on, but you just couldn’t bring this up. You knew it was silly and you knew you’d forget soon enough. You’d probably regret making such a big deal out of it.

“Darling,” he said, and immediately you turned to face him. He was already facing you. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel like it… I’m sorry I pushed you.”

Gosh, you thought. You gulped. You wished he wasn’t so kind.

“You’re going to think I’m so annoying though,” you said, voice cracking in a way you didn’t wish for it to and immediately his eyes widened.

“Darling, what happened?” he asked, suddenly worried. “You could never be annoying to me.”

“I… heard you…” you started and he just listened— he waited. “I heard you calling Okonogi, ‘dear.’ And suddenly I—”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, without hesitation. “I hadn’t even realized I did that, it was completely by habit. I won’t anymore.”

You finally met his eyes and the way he looked so horrified he had made you feel bad was so prominent in his eyes.

“No, Soushirou,” you said. “I didn’t mean for you to have to change anything— I know so well that both of you are so sweet to me and there’s nothing going on. I just—”

“Darling, calm down,” he said, cutting you off. “You’ve done nothing wrong, why are you beating yourself up? This was my bad and that’s about it. None of this is you.”

“I—,” you said, taking a moment to collect yourself. “I hate to be jealous, Soushirou. I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” he asked and you paused to look up at him, utterly confused.

“Why?” he asked again.

“It’s such an… ugly feeling,” you said.

“Is it?”

“Is it… not?”

“What’s wrong with being jealous?”

“Because it’s like I’m doubting you or something… when I don’t at all.”

“I think that’s a different thing entirely, no?” he asked. “You can know in your head that I’m in love with you and still feel something else— they’re not always the same. A little jealousy is perfectly healthy, I think.”

“Oh…” you said. You wanted to say so much more but there was so much to process first. Your heart swelled with such warmth.

“I get jealous too. I hate when Narumi gets too close to you or bothers you when I’m not around,” he continued on. “But in my head I know you’d never do anything to hurt me and you’d stop him if he crosses a line. I’ll try to stop if that bothers you though.”

“No,” you said. “That sounds… nice. I’m rather… happy… you were a jealous actually. But I’ll make sure to keep some more distance between Captain Narumi next time.”

He laughed. “Sounds good. But you tell me if there’s anything more that bothers you okay. I’ll fix myself up.”

“I will,” you said and he kissed your forehead. “But Soushirou, I don’t mind much anymore. You can stay the way you are.”

“No, no, stop overthinking. You need to sleep now, you have an early morning tomorrow.”

“Yeah. You too Sou,” you said and he hummed.

Once you were certain he was asleep, you kissed his cheek and slipped your hand into his. You liked holding his hand when you fell asleep, but you weren’t sure if it made it harder for him to fall asleep.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him. “You mean the world to me.”

You lightly kissed his cheek, careful not to wake him up, but to your surprised he smiled. He squeezed your hand and without opening his eyes, “You missed,” he said.

He kissed you on the lips and you laughed, snuggling up against him. “You were awake.”

“I was waiting for you to hold my hand,” he said. “I like when we hold hands when we sleep.”

BONUS:

From then on, Hoshina stopped calling Okonogi “dear” as much, and it’d only happen when it truly slipped out of him from force of habit.

“Vice-Captain, you’ve started dating (l/n), haven’t you?” she said to him one day while they were sorting through files.

“How... did you know?” he asked. The two of you had been dating for quite a while now, but he was more surprised she guessed you correctly.

“It’s terribly obvious you’re completely in love,” she said.

He blinked. And then he laughed. 

He’d have to ask you that night if he can share the news with everyone, properly, then.

[luveline]

Baby blurb with Aaron where he is so protective of reader and their unborn child while out on a case and the team tease him about it

thank you for your request! ♥︎ hotch x pregnant!reader

Aaron doesn't patronise you by insisting you don't work out in the field but you know there's a part of him that must want to deep down.

He constantly has a hand extended toward you. Toward the small of your back when you're climbing out of cars and elevators. Toward your hand when you're close by, his pinky an inch from yours. Toward your stomach, your small bump. He lets himself touch your baby bump on very rare occasions. It's the one thing he can't hold back. 

"You're sure you're feeling alright?" he asks you, face to face in the middle of a police precinct's conference room. 

You're careful not to breathe on him, though hopefully your breath smells of toothpaste and antacid rather than throw up. "Aaron, I'm used to it now, you know that." 

"It's not about getting used to it. If I could take this from you–" 

You pat his pale cheek. "It's just sick. You're stressed and it's making you worry too much, that's all it is. I'm perfectly fine." You lower your voice to a whisper, "We're perfectly fine." 

His knuckles brush your bump. 

"You can ask me how I'm doing if you want, Hotch. I'll answer more honestly," Morgan says. 

You and Aaron ease away from one another. His professionalism falls into place. You love Morgan almost as much as you love Aaron, so you beam at him when you probably shouldn't. 

"How are you, Derek?" you ask. 

"Whole lot better than you, mama bear. Little brat's kicking your ass today, huh?" He leans back in his chair, tossing the pen in his hands into the air and catching it lacksidisaically.

"The baby," Aaron says sternly, clearly not appreciating Morgan's choice of descriptor, "is behaving unfortunately." 

"The baby likely isn't doing anything," Spencer corrects, wearing a smile unlike himself. "Research suggests that morning sickness is caused by a hormone made in the placenta created as a byproduct during pregnancy. So, if anything–" 

"It's Aaron's fault," Rossi concludes. 

You're surprised Aaron doesn't pinch the bridge of his nose.

"It's alright, boss, I forgive you–" you begin.

"We've talked about you calling me 'boss'–" 

"–for getting me pregnant. After all, I asked–" 

"Did you?" Prentiss asks, surprised.

"–and I have a funny feeling I'll be happy with the end product." You rub your stomach affectionately. It's a show, a drama to make your friends laugh in an otherwise dismal situation, but you feel something stirring beneath your skin. You bring your second hand to your bump and close your eyes. "Oh, she's moving." 

"No way!" JJ says happily. 

There's a gap where nobody talks. You try to hide your amazed smile, heat blooming behind your eyes. You've felt her move before, mostly at night when you're lying in bed. Every time is a flashing reminder of what's really happening. 

"Hotch," Morgan says. "We all know you want to." 

"We have things we need to be doing." 

"They can wait another ten seconds," you say softly. "Please." 

It doesn't take anymore convincing. Aaron crosses the room and you take his hand, sliding it against the swollen hill of your stomach until you find the place you'd felt your baby moving. You aren't sure if Aaron will be able to feel it —it isn't a kick, just a stirring of limbs— but she moves, and his lips part with a sigh.

The team pretend they aren't watching, besides Rossi, who laughs. "The miracle of life," he says. 

You snort at his cheesiness if you weren't busy trying to take a snap-shot of Aaron's face where awe, reverence, and love all work to turn his lips up in an earnest grin. 

[samueldays]

The Survivability Onion dictates that Political Science is and will be bogus.

Because a major nominal function of political science is breaching the survivability onion, particularly seeing and acquiring targets in power. (When discussing those who have left power, it's called "history".)

By construction, targets in power have the ability to interfere with this. By evolution, targets in power will interfere with this.

That sums up my thesis. It is not original, but I found this framing to be novel and concise.

To elaborate:

I am not attached to any particular chart of the Survivability Onion. It puts a funny name on principles that go back to Sun Tzu's Art of War. Here are two example charts to give the general idea.

Rephrased again: For an enemy to hurt you, he must know where you are, choose a weapon that can hurt you, aim that weapon at you, successfully fire, and land a hit. Interference in any of those steps makes it harder for the enemy to hurt you, whether that's hiding from the enemy or destroying ammunition supplies.

Some caveats apply, for example high-collateral weapons can skimp a little bit on knowing where the target is, but a grenade still has to be thrown into the right house.

When applied to people in power, "hurt" takes the form of being removed from power. The principles of the survivability onion, then, dictate that one can better remain in power by obfuscating how people might remove one from power.

Don't be seen: stay out of political science textbooks, sponsor books and courses that talk about other people, insist that power rests in other organizations. Don't be acquired: if you (or your organization) are mentioned in textbooks, look innocuous and irrelevant. Smear and discredit anyone who pays attention to you. "Conspiracy theory" is a great term here. Also, did you know you can just name organizations whatever you like? Don't be hit: if people recognize that you have substantial power and get mad at you, encourage or deceive them to oppose you in ways that do nothing. For example, trying to organize a "boycott" of a military supplier that ordinary people weren't buying from in the first place. Mislead your enemies to attack false targets. Don't be penetrated: if people manage to identify your power and organize to attack it, minimize the damage. For example, dissolve a front company which you can easily replace, because your power lies in the Rolodex. Don't be killed: don't be killed, literally and metaphorically. If you're in Congress, for example, appoint regulatory committee members who will remain on committee to enforce your will in case of your impeachment. Few people ever bother to go back and root out committee members. Organizationally, build redundancy so that the penetration and destruction of any one node does not take your entire powerbase with it.

He who has ears, let him hear! Understand why I do not name names.

Political science pretends to describe the location and operation of power. Insofar as it is accurate, it creates vulnerability. "How to take and keep power" is information that people in power would love to keep secret from their rivals. Insofar as people in power can affect political science in some way, political science will contain deceits and distractions. There is means, motive and opportunity to fuck with the field. There is selective pressure to fuck with the field.

This is not unique to any particular person or power structure. Political science is always and everywhere doomed to be a field subject to actively malicious misinformation.

There will be counterforces too: researchers genuinely interested in truth, honest politicians admitting how things work, historical events eventually passing into the realm of sine ira et studio as the contemporaries die off, lies colliding in consilience failures, and so on, resulting in some equilibrium with merely X% lies.

(Yes, Minister is in part based on a combination of 2 and 3: the posthumously published memoirs of Richard Crossman.)

[celestialsister0918]

Chapter 4, "A Window Not Missed" - work rated M Bruce Banner x Natasha Romanov

_______________________________

The Avengers’ “big day tomorrow” turned out to be a bust. Natasha awakened to a call from Tony at 5:32 a.m., alerting her that the strange emissions over a lakeside landfill were in fact strange emissions from a landfill— not evidence of HYDRA chemical testing as their “source” had originally led them to believe. She’d promptly rolled over and fallen back asleep. 

With no new leads, the team found themselves rather useless, and each member was left to their own devices. Natasha wandered up to the common room for a late breakfast to see what was going on, and she learned Clint had checked out almost immediately. Thor and Jane were headed to the West Coast following her New York conference. Pepper was off on business travel as well, so Nat assumed the bros would keep each other occupied. Steve actually had a date that night.

“Oh?” Nat feigned as she sipped her coffee. 

“Kind of. I committed to dessert only.”

“Ooooh,” teased Nat.

Steve rolled his eyes. “I met this mysterious brunette when I was out running, several days in a row. It’s funny— she seemed to know my exact workout schedule.”

“How about that!” Nat remarked. “Must be meant to be.” 

“Uh-huh.”

“Any luck on your other front?” she added quietly.

Steve examined her face for a minute before comprehending. “No, no sign of him,” he answered grimly. “Sam’s still working on it.”

Natasha grasped his hand affectionately before depositing her dishes into Tony’s dishwasher rinse/load gadget. She couldn’t remember the name of that one. All the tech had names here. 

She went off in search of something to get into, and her mind immediately remembered her promise to invade Bruce’s lab. She talked herself out of that one quickly. Natasha’s pride wouldn’t allow entry where she wasn’t wanted. And after Dr. Banner’s hurried exit last night, “wanted” was the last thing she felt. 

She did pause for a few seconds before descending the stairs, gazing down at the open floors below. She could see all of his equipment through the glass, of course. A few minutes passed before she spotted Bruce moving around in a checkered shirt and lab coat, peering at a clipboard through rectangular lenses. Her heart skipped for a split second. Glasses took him to next-level and made her reconsider her avoidance plan. A vision flashed of her perched on the countertop, him standing between her legs, and her gently lifting those glasses away before ravaging his mouth. 

Fuck, Romanoff! Have you really stooped that low? He clearly doesn’t want you like you want him. 

Her feet tore away, demanding that she retain some modicum of self-respect. An annoying little voice in the back of her mind reminded her that friends could hang out in a lab too. Or go out to dinner, or watch a movie in the common room. Interacting with Bruce Banner didn’t mean she had to prostrate herself at his feet, body silently begging for his attention. But she didn’t know how to shut up that part of her that pulled like a magnet in his direction. So she kept her distance from the force-field altogether, refusing to let herself be pulled.

Natasha instead spent the next week on her computer, diving into research for possible leads on HYDRA and therefore the scepter. Even though Cap was their official line of communication to Maria (and she was sure Nick through Maria), Natasha felt the need to make herself useful. She’d always had a knack for research, for opening a rabbit hole and tunneling her way through hundreds of interconnected twists and turns, brain coming alive at each flicker of possibility. The hours passed by in the blink of an eye this way, which made her unmet physical needs somewhat bearable.

But when she would hit a dead end, eyes heavy and neck stiff from being folded in half in front of a screen, Natasha would wander again in search of something. She wasn’t used to free time, or feeling useless. 

Maybe spend some time on YOU? a voice suggested. 

So after over a week of a hermit life with only passing “hellos” upon coming up for air, Natasha went out. Her first stop was a series of shops in SoHo, where she was drawn in by window displays quite reminiscent of the vibe in her own apartment. Silks, satins, pearls, tailored lines, substantial fabrics. Understated colors but still eye-catching at the same time— sort of a Breakfast at Tiffany’s kind of feel. Natasha stepped closer, head tilting to the side as she pondered. Maybe it was time to reinvent again. 

At her next stop she deposited her row of shopping bags along the back wall of a salon and hopped into a chair, ready to lose some length. 

“Cut it for pin curls,” she instructed. “Sort of in line with the angle of the chin, sculpted around the ear.” 

With her hair ready for her new old-fashioned look, Natasha gave into her final stop. It was time. The old old-fashioned method worked in a pinch out in the field, but now that she was in a real home with very real downtime, she needed to step up her efforts. 

“This is our most popular model,” the young clerk told her enthusiastically, leading her to an array of choices locked in a glass case. He pointed to a specimen in the center with a very appealing size and curve. 

“Does it come in any other color?” Nat asked warily. 

“No, ma’am, I’m sorry. This particular model only comes in green.” 

It was humiliating, but effective. 

Another week wore on, and even though she and Banner lived in the same building, their paths rarely crossed. When they finally did, Bruce’s eyes widened upon seeing her new look on display in the common room. Clint had returned, and they’d been catching up over a beer. 

“So… we’re trying,” Clint told her with a conspiratorial wink. 

“For #3? Really? Good for you.”

“I have a good feeling we were successful.”

Nat laughed with a toss of her head, and her sideways glance fell on Bruce, whose arms were full of smoothie ingredients. He froze, a bag of spinach falling from his arms. 

“Uh, hey there, Nat. Clint.” 

“Hi,” she replied, even that simple word sounding forced and awkward. The fact that so much time had passed since their “date” left little doubt that something had gone wrong. Despite her gifted intuition, she had no idea what. 

“Hey, doc,” Clint returned, tilting his beer in Bruce’s direction. “Want to join us with your… er, celery juice?” 

“Um, no… nah… I’m good. Got a lot going on today. I’ll just…” Bruce trailed off and began throwing things into Sir-Mix-a-Lot haphazardly, giving them a few whirls before throwing the results in an oversized thermos and darting to the staircase. 

“What was that about?” Clint asked with a shake of his head. “That guy’s kind of touched or something, isn’t he?”

“Not touched is more like it,” Tony supplied, making his way in from the direction of the boardroom. “Meeting in twenty, guys. Cap and I crunched all that data you sent over, Nat. We think you’re onto something, and we want to check it out. It’s pretty ‘out there,’ but the group checks a lot of Hydra boxes.”

“I agree,” Nat said simply. “I think it warrants a look.”

“What did I miss?” Clint inquired, popping another top. 

“I’ve been bored,” Nat answered wryly. 

“Ah, so a rabbit hole then,” Clint chuckled. 

“Yep.”

....

Chapter continued at link below...

[sometipsygnostalgic]

The Problems of being a Techmaster (...or, Entrapta Forgot What Side She’s On Again).

Length: 1927 words

Characters: Bow, Entrapta, Catra, featuring Scorpia and Hordak

Bow tapped his fingers against the adorable little doodles on the paper, watching Travis spin himself back and forth in his chair out of agitation.

Travis was the guildmaster of the Makers' Guild. He was usually a nervous sort, nice enough, silently working on his prosthetics and the magazine most days, but this time he had called on Bow for help in quite a hurry. Travis had received a very strange letter.

It was scrawled in the messiest kind of handwriting, like the sender was impatiently trying to get their thoughts out way faster than their pen could move. The way it was clearly written in byro pen, rather than with a quill, already narrowed down who it could've come from.

When Bow squinted, he could make out the contents:

Hi Travin (I hope I got it right this time?)

I read your article last month about the problems youve been researching with keeping all the crops in Erelandia irrigated during the dry season, and I thought your solution with using a water arrow rainfall was very creative but also seems really inefficient!!! It would be more effective to just water the plants by hand at that stage?

There was a cute illustration of an arrow with a tiny water trail, and a big X next to it.

Bow frowned at this. Nevermind that the article on crops was written five months ago. He thought his suggestion was perfect! Exercise and agility training for everyone, while they help their food grow. But hey, what did he know!! (Okay maybe everyone had looked at him funny when he brought it up but THEY didn't have any better ideas now did they?)

I've been working on lots of exciting new projects recently, and over here they have an entire system that helps you store and use large amounts of water! There are towns with decent sewage systems, sure, but over here the water can be clean as well and people use it to keep themselves clean or drink. I think it's brilliant and it could improve so many things!!! But I've put together an early plan for how we can use a similar system to keep food healthy. They don't eat fresh food here, so I haven't tested this idea yet, but maybe you'll like it!

The notes detailed a plan of laying pipes and hoses around the crop fields, connecting them to a reservoir, and distributing water evenly. There were even very rough ideas for a conservatory, using heating and glass to keep crops warm during the coldest seasons. Bow wasn't so sure on using canisters full of incredibly flammable gas to power the system, but it was at least inspired. Bow had not been there for long, but he believed everything written down was based on the Fright Zone's gas and water technology. These plans were rushed onto paper, and the edges were covered in inattentive little scribbles, but everything important was laid out in incredible detail.

Entrapta had drawn further illustrations at the end with a tiny figure and a robot, probably herself and Emily, going “WOW!!!” at the new hypothetical irrigation system. Bow loved the energy. It was a shame they'd never gotten to bond over their love of drawing cute things before she switched sides. Maybe if he asked her to check out Tiny Bow and his other model figures the next time they were fighting, he could get her to rejoin the Rebellion---

“What can we do?” Travis whimpered. “The notes are crude and unrefined, but this really could change the outlook for Erelandia, I HAVE to post this on my name as a techmaster, but how am I supposed to publish research made by the Horde?! They'll remove me from the guild and then TOMMIE will take over, Bow, please make sure Tommie doesn't take over, he's a big jerk--” Travis's chair was rotating so fast that it flipped over and he fell onto the floor.

“--Whoah whoah, calm down, buddy!!” Bow got up and helped Travis sit back down, giving him a hug. “You're overthinking this. Probably? I'm not sure? Maybe you won't die?”

“And why is Entrapta still sending letters? With Horde secrets?!” Travis stared at him pleadingly. “That's weird. Do you think that's weird? Am I weird for thinking that's weird?!”

Bow scratched his chin. “To be honest I think she just forgets which side is which.”

“I'm... not surprised by that, actually.” Travis sighed and fell back into his chair. “Dammit Entrapta, why did you have to join the Horde!!! This would be so much easier.”

“Hey, uhh.... at least she knows about irrigation systems now? And is sharing that with us? That... almost makes it silver lining?” Bow read the notes again. Something was missing. When he realised what, a lightbulb went off in his head.  

“Travis, what proof is there that you're publishing a paper written by the Horde... when there won't be a name credited to it?”

Travis raised both eyebrows, and leaned forward on his hands, eyes piercing through Bow with sharp accusation. “Are you suggesting we plagiarize, Bow?”

“Wha-- no, of course not---”

“Do we have to re-educate you on the Ten Laws of Makers?”

“--I'm NOT PLAGIARIZING”, Bow squeaked. “there is NO NAME on the paper!!!”

“But there is literally a drawing of Entrapta on it and it's in her handwriting--?”

“That could be any random pigtailed person with, an incredibly messy writing style!!”  Bow met Travis's eyes, trying his best to calm down. “Look, we publish the submission and say it was sent anonymously, and everyone gets to learn something, and when someone asks where it came from, we have no idea, right? We suspect it was Entrapta, but can we know for sure? And we wouldn't lie, or turn away such a great submission!” Bow put his hands behind his head. “So, we are completely clean.”

Travis raised his goggles. “Bow, you are a beautiful, evil genius.”

Bow blushed and scratched his ear.

_____________________

Catra trudged towards the old prison cells after a long, hard day of carrying the entire Horde. Today, Kyle forgot to put the handbrake on a tank, which crashed into a wall that everyone had to repair. It was probably Kyle. He was blamed for it anyway. It took Catra eight hours to get the materials order and manpower in to repair both the tank and the wall. How this place had survived for 30 years was anyone's guess!

She was heading to Entrapta's “lab”. It wasn't because she wanted the company of her friends, not at all! They're not her friends, they're her co-workers. Nothing more! No more friends ever again!!! It was because she needed to hand some orders over to Entrapta for the next weapons shipment. She wondered why Hordak never did any of this busywork himself. All he did most days was growl and look intimidating. Okay, yeah, it was genuinely terrifying, but still pathetic-- wait what was she doing again? Right, orders, lab.

Catra entered the lab, and as usual, Entrapta was making happy noises and spinning around in her chair, while Emily chased her, and Scorpia cheered on from the sidelines, obviously confused as to what the good news was. Catra counted Entrapta's chaotic spins in her head, and on the seventh count, she stopped the chair with her foot as it passed her by.

“I need you to focus--” Catra flinched as some kind of notebook was flopped on top of her head. She ripped it off and nearly tore it to shreds but anything Entrapta gave her had a 50% chance of being either critically important or random trash, so she checked it first. “The Makers' Magazine...? What the--” Catra flipped through the pags. “Entrapta, is this your handwriting?”

Entrapta had been staring up at Catra, vibrating with an incredible amount of potential energy which needed to be released in small burts or it would probably destroy the room. It started to leak out. “They posted my paper!!! I spent ages thinking about that!! I'm so happy they liked it---”

“This is the fright zone shower system???? You're literally sharing Horde infrastructure plans with the Rebellion?”  

“Huh?” One of Entrapta's hair hands scratched the side of her face. “I didn't think the Guild was with the Rebellion. Is that a bad thing?”

Catra stared wide-eyed. “Yes??? They have a water princess? If she uses that then she can destroy our water system??”  

Entrapta folded her arms. “Well that seems mean, but we'd just have to put it back together!”  

Catra held back a scream.

Scorpia could see that Catra was at breaking point, so she hopped in. “Hey, I thought you did a great job! I loved the little drawings of you and Emily they were so cute! And also those plant things sound interesting?” She took the book from Catra. “Wait, did they not credit you? This was apparently sent in by 'a generous anonymous source'”.

“Aww crumbs, did I forget to write my name down again?” Entrapta shrugged with her arms and hair. “Oh well.”

“It's alright, maybe next time.”

“But hang on, that doesn't make any sense. How come Bow sent me a copy of the magazine with this?”  Entrapta produced a “thank you” note with a cute drawing of a chibi Bow waving back her.  

Scorpia squealed. “That's so cute???? I didn't know Bow was an artist too! I want to draw with him some time! Oooh, maybe he has Best Friend Squad drawings I could use as reference!!!”

Then suddenly the screen at the side of the room popped on, and Catra saw Hordak's shadow looming large.

“Force Captain”, he growled, “I trust you have delivered my orders on the next shipment?”

Catra and Scorpia bowed. “Yes, Lord Hordak. I'm briefing Princess Entrapta now. We were just facing a minor distraction.”

“What sort of 'distraction'? If there is something interfering with your work, then you must remove it immediately.”

“My letter got published!!” Entrapta replied cheerfully. “I posted an article on irrigation to the Etherian Makers Guild! It was inspired heavily by your work, Hordak!”

Catra slapped both her hands hard against her face. What the hell, Entrapta? Do you want to die?

Hordak grunted and lowered his head. “Very well, I trust we can... discuss your research later. In a way that can benefit the Fright Zone.”

Entrapta smiled and nodded happily.

“If that is all, get back to work. We require seventy five cannon renovations by tomorrow morning.”

Hordak disconnected. Catra stood in place, losing the will to live.

“Fuck it”, she said. “If you all are going to let this place burn this place to the ground, I'm grabbing some snacks. Scorpia, help me get some white ration bars.”

“Roger that!!!”, said Scorpia, picking up a yelping Catra and leaving for the canteen.

Catra and Scorpia came back with a mountain of mixed ration bars and bunked the night in Entrapta's lab while she tinkered with weapons.  

Entrapta spent only a few hours actually renovating cannons, because she was planning the next project to send to the Makers' Guild. She was brainstorming a way to make arrows deadlier and more aerodynamic, able to travel further with a heavier load. She added lots of drawings to make her point. Bow probably wouldn't find much of a use for a variant of the “sonic arrow” that was rocket-powered and could travel so fast it broke the sound barrier naturally, but the concept is really cool, isn't it? That's what science is about!

[reikuto]

— IMAGINED RIVALRY [VIKTOR X READER] PT. 2 -> PT. 1

WARNINGS! — f bomb

CONTEXT! — modern college au, viktor x implied female reader

A/N! — i present to you: funny reader x giggly viktor. viktor is a tad bit ooc. also i’m sososo sorry for any typos, i’ll edit them as soon as i can🙏🏽

this is PT.2 -> PT. 1

TAPPING YOUR PENCIL AGAINST YOUR NOTEBOOK IN THOUGHT, you huffed at the instructions of your final project. the assignment itself was easy but the steps were tedious. as you highlighted key instructions to ensure they’d stick in your brain, your attention was caught by a cup held out in your peripheral.

“you have an interesting coffee order,” viktor hummed as he took a seat beside you.

you hesitantly took the cup from him and watched as he pulled out his own notes. the two of you were seated in a cozy corner of a coffee shop that was available on campus; you had been meaning to visit it at some point but you never pictured being there with him.

it was an understatement to say you were still distraught by the sudden chumminess. your friends would have a field day if they could see you having coffee with the very source behind the majority of your rants.

“it gets the job done,” you replied simply, bringing the cup to your mouth but pausing just before it touched your lips. “thank you for buying.”

viktor waved off your thanks. “i did ask you out after all,”

your eyes widened as you cleared your throat, setting your coffee down. “so what are your ideas? for the project, i mean.”

“you tell me,” viktor said as he leaned back in his seat. you felt yourself grow nervous under his gaze but refused to show it. “i do not hear from you during class but your marks are always excellent.”

“it’s not like i don’t try to participate, that man just never calls on me.” you rolled your eyes, slouching a bit as you frowned at your paper.

“ah yes, he does not do a good job at disguising his favoritism.”

you scoffed, picking up your highlighter again. “if by favoritism you mean his sexism then yes, he fucking blows at it.”

viktor laughed at that, which made you look up at him in mild shock because holy shit you made him laugh. you straightened up, allowing a small smile to spread on your lips at the sight of viktor laughing at something you had said. he looks cute when he laughs, younger even.

“you’re funny,” viktor sighed, pointing at you. “i did not expect you to be funny.”

“what?” you gasped in faux offense, turning your body to face him fully and gesturing to yourself. “you’re telling me i don’t scream funny to you?”

“not one bit,” viktor laughed again, and you felt something twist in your stomach at the sight. “you are always very quiet and serious.”

“i could say the same about you,” you jab, picking up your coffee and taking a quick sip. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you show interest in anything but physics.”

“well i showed my interest in you,” viktor countered, “and i am glad you agreed to get coffee.”

you felt the tingling in your cheeks, “yeah well, i had to see what all the fuss was about.”

“the fuss?”

“considering our professor is practically in love with you, i had to see for myself if this viktor guy was really all that great.” you shrugged, reveling in viktor’s amused chuckling. “this outing is purely for my own research.”

“how is he doing?” viktor asked with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. you felt sick because there was no way he was smiling at you like that. “is he living up to the fuss?”

failing to hide your own smile, you sigh dramatically, “yeah, i guess he’s alright.”

“do you still hate him?”

your smile drops a little at that, and you felt guilty for the months you spent despising him for no reason. you shook your head, “i never hated you, i was just…being immature.”

“i’m glad,” viktor smiles again, eyes flickering over your features. “i would love to make this a regular thing.”

this boy is gonna be the death of you.

[bruhstories]

Sticky, Saccharine & Sinful

Summary: Professor Jaeger asks his assistant to come over and grade some papers. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (modern AU) Warnings & Content: language, protected sex, fingering, oral sex (female & male receiving), spanking, daddy kink, bossy Zeke, bratty Reader, tying up, bit of an age gap but no underage shit (we don’t do that here) Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: Huehuehue guess who finally wrote a daddy kink smut? Also I have looped Cherry Cola by Kuwada the entire time i wrote, proofread and formatted this bitch, I think it works with the atmosphere

"Y/N, I'm gonna need you to help me grade some papers later today." Professor Jaeger pushed his glasses with his index finger as he looked up from his book.

"You got it, boss!" You nodded as you entered the staff lounge room at Stohess Uni, two cups in your hands.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Zeke?" The man sighed. “Or at least call me professor.”

"But I'm your assistant, you're my superior, that makes you my boss, boss." Sarcasm dripping down your tongue as you placed his coffee down the table. "All black, two cubes of sugar."

"Thank you. And yes, technically I am your boss, but you're, what, six years younger than me?"

"Seven and a half." You pouted.

You've been working at Stohess University for a little over a year now as Zeke Jaeger's assistant. He was the best philosophy teacher, as well as head of the department, and you nailed your internship interview, aspiring to be like him one day. He even taught you Ethics during your masters, and currently you were doing your PhD research under his coordination. The man was a genius in his field, and you didn't dare disappoint him, but your personalities always clashed. He was calm and collected, you were bubbly and all over the place. He was nice and polite, you were sarcastic and rude. Zeke knew you'd make a horrible teacher for children, but undergraduate students would adore you.

"How can you drink hot coffee in this heat wave?" You asked him as you fanned someone's epistemology essay to cool yourself off.

"It's actually been proven that warm drinks hydrate better than cold ones during summertime." He inhaled the scent of freshly brewed coffee before taking the essay out of your hand.

"Whatever you say, boss." You shrugged and gulped on your iced tea, a few glistening amber drops dripping from the corners of your mouth, down your chin and your neck. "Ah, shit." You wiped the tea with the back of your hand, not catching Zeke watching you curiously. "Why did the AC have to break down today of all days?"

"Dunno." He shrugged and immersed himself back into his book. "Oh, I hope you don't mind coming to my place to grade the papers? I don't think you'll be able to focus in this heat. Besides, I want to take a look at your latest PhD chapter." Jaeger told you absentmindedly, eyes glued to the pages in front of him.

"Sure thing–"

"Don't say it."

"Boss."

"Jesus Christ..."

You adored pissing your ex-professor off, but deep down, Zeke couldn't deny the fact that he loved the authority he had over you. You were a very alluring woman, after all, and any sane man would kill to be as close to you as he was, let alone boss you around like he did. And he had the strong feeling you acted like a brat around him on purpose. You took your leave after downing the rest of your beverage, going to the library to borrow some books for your own research.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

You rang the intercom and waited for Zeke to let you inside the building, dragging your feet down the hallway, tired from carrying so much shit with you – laptop, books, essays, papers, pens and highlighters – you were a walking, talking stationery shop and one could only wonder how someone with such a petite frame was so strong. Zeke waited in the doorway and took some of your things, relieving the weight as you sighed.

"Coffee?" He guided you to his kitchen.

"Water, please." You plopped on a chair and unbuttoned the first three heart-shaped buttons of your lilac shirt, tiny beads of sweat bundled up at your collarbone.

"You sure? I'll be keeping you up all night." Jaeger laughed. He was obviously talking about the papers, but to you, the sentence had a different innuendo — not that you minded, you had your fair share of sinful fantasies with the older man. Come to think of it, you were wondering why he was single. Zeke was undoubtedly an attractive man, he could have any woman he wanted. Yet you’ve never seen him on a date, never seen a picture of a woman when you accidentally glanced at his phone, never heard him talk about a significant other.

"Hey, mind if I smoke?" You asked, noticing the ashtray on his table.

"Not at all, I'll join you." He sat opposite you, mug of coffee in his hand. You pulled out a pack of pink cigarettes from your backpack and placed one between your lips, pocketing your jeans for a lighter. His hand extended over the table, lighter in his hand, and you slightly bent your head forward, eyes glued to his. You inhaled the smoke, not breaking eye contact, and exhaled with a sigh. Something about Zeke lighting up your cigarette made your little cunt tingle.

"Thanks, boss." The corners of your lips turned into a barely visible smirk. You really, really liked to tick him off.

"Don't mention it." He told you before lighting his own cigarette. What, no comeback? No objection? "How's your paper going?"

"It's... going." You shrugged.

"You haven't written anything in your last chapter, have you?"

"No, I have," you half-whined, "it's just that I can't find my words. I think I encountered writer's block."

"'S alright, we'll figure something out." Zeke pulled a stack of papers from his briefcase and dropped it on the table.

"Wow, no shit you need help, that's a lot of papers." You twirled the cigarette between your fingers before taking one final puff and crushing it in the glass ashtray.

"Told you." He picked his resting cigarette back from the ashtray. "You can do the first years."

"I'd rather do something else." You whispered to yourself, eyes almost rolling at the back of your head.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, boss. First years, got it." Your manicured fingers pulled the stack of papers closer to you. The exams were already annotated according to subject and year and you took everything you needed before shoving them back to Zeke.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

You were bored out of your mind, fiddling with the red pen in your hand and tapping your fingers on the table with no particular rhythm. It was already dark outside and you barely finished a quarter of your stack while Zeke was halfway through his.

"Could you please stop that?" He asked you without even bothering to look at you.

"Why?"

"It's annoying."

With a groan you rolled your eyes and stopped tapping your fingers, instead opting to fidget your leg, bouncing it up and down under the table. The wooden furniture shook at the movement and Zeke sighed, putting the pen down.

"I understand you're bored, but if you want to be a professor, this is part of the job description."

"I know, I know, but, like, can we take a break? Please? We've been at it for two and a half hours now and I'm just so bored." You looked at him with puppy eyes and a pout on your plump lips.

"Ugh, fine. What do you want to do?"

"I dunno. Got any board games?"

"Only a pack of playing cards." Zeke shrugged.

"Perfect! Literally anything is better than this. I mean look at what this kid wrote: the ship of Theseus ARE a thought experiment. Can you believe it? How can a nineteen-year-old not know proper grammar?"

"Careful, Y/N," he chuckled, "you made a pretty embarrassing error during your masters, too."

"Nooo, don't bring that up!" You got up and walked to the freezer, scanning the contents.

"Why not? It's funny."

"Yeah, for you." You rolled your eyes. "But I still proved my worth." You triumphantly told him, tongue playfully poking out of your mouth from behind the freezer door. Ugh, you were so cute, made to be ravaged. Your eyes settled on the single raspberry popsicle and you picked it up, closing back the door. "Can I have this?" Oh, he knew exactly what you were doing.

"Of course."

With Zeke's approval, you unwrapped the plastic, revealing the rose-tinted dessert, swirling your tongue around its tip. You were a sight for sore eyes, (not so) innocently licking at the popsicle, your gaze on him and his growing bulge. He didn't even bother hiding it, instead relaxing in the chair and drinking you in. It was no mistake that Zeke invited you over, and you weren't stupid enough to believe it was a mistake.

"Do you... want some?" You trailed off as the once cold dessert began melting from your hot lips.

"If you'd be so kind." He patted his lap and you accepted the invitation. His bulge was comfortably uncomfortable against your ass, and you put the popsicle onto his lips, one arm draped around his shoulder. Zeke's tongue moved languidly around the sweet snack and you leaned in, your own tongue licking both the dessert and his lips. It was sticky and saccharine and sinful, and your poor pussy couldn't take it anymore.

"Do you wanna fuck me, daddy?" You naively asked him. He wasn't surprised in the slightest by the name, already suspecting you had daddy issues, in fact counting on it.

"I very much do." His hands were already roaming your body. The popsicle was almost gone, and you deepthroated the last bit, taking the little stick out of your mouth with a pop. Finally, he crushed his lips onto yours and you could tell he had experience. You dropped the stick on the tiled floor, twisting your body to better straddle him. Zeke unbuttoned your shirt as you slowly began grinding your hips against his bulge, earning a groan from him. "Ugh, you bad girl." He threw his head back as you loosened the tie around his neck.

"Are you going to punish me?" You slowly, too slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

"What’s the point of a punishment if you’re going to enjoy it?" He mused, unclasping your bra. You had goosebumps all over your skin and Zeke took one of your nipples in his hot mouth, a hand pinching your other one. You whimpered at the slight stinging sensation

"Does it m-matter if I enjoy it?" His touch became rougher, almost animalistic.

"Of course," he stopped sucking your swollen, oversensitive nipple, "otherwise you won't learn your lesson." You got up and turned around, your back against him, taking your jeans and underwear off, bending down and exposing your cunt to him. "You're going to be the death of me, Y/N." Zeke shook his head, removing his own trousers.

"Allow me." You tucked your fingers behind the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down as you kneeled in front of him. His throbbing cock tapped your face after finally being unleashed from its textile cage.

"I suspected you were big, but this? This is too good." You sneered at his member, mesmerised by its size.

"Just shut up and suck it." Zeke pretty much commanded you and you wet your lips, pressing your tongue against the velvety tip. You worked your way around his shaft, enjoying this more than you should've. You pulled back, a string of saliva and precum attached to your lips as you looked up at him.

"Am I doing good, daddy?"

"So good." He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pushed your head back. You eagerly sucked and slurped until he got bored of your mouth around his cock. Zeke pulled you up, spun you around and bent you over the table. He brought your wrists together and tied them up behind your back with his tie before taking a step back and admiring the view. Ass up, face down, just like he loved it. His foot pushed yours to the side, spreading your legs for him before he gave you a good slap over your ass cheeks. You shot up with a moan but his hand forced you back down against the table.

"I think I know exactly how to punish you." Zeke announced, two fingers spreading your folds as his tongue dove inside of you, lapping at your wet cunt.

"Oh, God!" You groaned in pleasure. No man has ever eaten you out like he did. Most guys did it as a chore. Zeke? He was enjoying every single bit of it, passionately fingering you, his tongue moving in ways you didn't think were possible. "Ah, fuck– so good! Daddy, please! I'm coming!"

The way he venomously laughed told you that no, you were not going to come any time soon. Just as you were about to let loose, Zeke stopped, removing his fingers, another slap on your ass. Tears pooled at your Y/E/C eyes, frustration written all over your face. "No, no, no!"

"I told you, Y/N, you're a bad, bad girl." He bent over and whispered in your ear, his cock pressing against your entrance, his hand in your hair.

"Oh, pleaseee, I need to come! Will you let me come?"

"Hm, it depends." Jaeger straightened his back, hands resting on your hips. "Did you learn your lesson?"

"Yes, yes, daddy, I did! I promise I'll be good!" You tried to turn around to look at him, oblivious to what he was doing behind your back, cheeks crimson, droplets of sweat on your forehead.

"Convincing enough." He shrugged and you heard the condom snap against his cock.  Unexpectedly and without any warning, the man thrusted into your wet cunt and you, again, shot up, but he pinned you back. "Stay fucking put, you little whore." Zeke demanded and you tried, you really tried, but your body had a mind of its own. "I see you refuse to learn."

"No, no, please!" You slammed your face onto the table, squishing your cheek in the process, desperate and helpless.

"That's better." He concluded, sarcasm dripping down his tongue as he rammed his cock deeper into you. The silken walls clenched around his hard member, and he grunted, no other woman pleasing him like your tight pussy did. "You like it when I take you from behind, you filthy slut?"

"Yes– oh my God, YES!" You bucked your hips against his for more pressure and pain.

"What would my students think if they saw you getting fucked like this on their papers?"

"Ah– I don't c-care!"

"What would the headmaster say if she knew you fuck your superior and- ugh- coordinator?" Jaeger thrusted harder and faster.

"Please, Zeke-"

His hand found its way to your neck, tightly squeezing it.

"Wrong name, Y/N."

"Shit, daddy!"

"That's right, I'm your fucking daddy and hell will freeze before someone else fucking touches you!"

"Fuc-k, fuuuck!" You both howled and panted as you climaxed, your entire bodies quivering. Zeke pulled out of you, carefully removing the rubber from his cock and giving you another slap on your perky ass cheeks. You stood up, arms still tied around your back, turned on your heels and pecked him on his cheek, giggling like a schoolgirl, marvelled by the fact that he chose you over anyone else.

"You know what, Y/N? Now that I've found you, I'm never going to let you go." He promised.

"I'm all yours, boss."

[kojinnie]

With The Exception of You

I dislike everyone in the room.

Pairing/Character: Reiner x Reader (she/her), Porco Galliard

Tags: SFW, fluff, college!au, Reiner Braun is a jock who is tired of his own friends, secret relationship

WC: 3.2K

Summary: Reiner had agreed to be in a discreet relationship with you, but after six months and with the arrival of Porco Galliard around you, he couldn’t help but to mark his territory.

Reiner couldn’t seem to fathom the butterflies wreaking havoc in his stomach. It came out of nowhere, as it often happened to be. Once in a while, he could feel his guts twisting as his chest filled with overflown emotions at odd times. Reiner hated it when it happened, because as much as he wanted to convince himself that he wasn’t self-aware of his image, those feelings could potentially strip himself off of his cool guy status.

Reiner had come to realize that such strange feeling often occurred caused by the sight of you.

It could be anything. Things so mundane, so simple. Like the way you twisted the pen in your fingers, the way you squinted your eyes at the blackboard during a lecture, and how you hastily scribbled things on your leather-bound notebook.

Or maybe it’s the way you sighed deliberately loud when someone uttered a dumb, sexist remark in class with no trace of shame, after they tried to debate your sound, well-researched opinion, and how you’d resolved it with a sarcasm that could disintegrate a man’s ego. Reiner sat on the corner of the classroom, disguising his chuckle by clearing his throat, finally coming to experience what they had called butterflies-in-your-stomach all along. 

At that point he had found himself painfully and helplessly in love with you.

He was well-aware of how different the two of you were. Reiner was the athlete, admitted to the uni through football scholarship, and you were the hard-working academician that mostly kept to yourself – hard to approach, hard to tame. Reiner hated how stereotypical he was – tall, buff, blonde, jock, with cheerleader exes and a DM full of thirst trap from his assembly of admirers. Reiner once wished he was anything but a cookie-cutter of everything you had been appalled of.

Reiner could feel every ounce of confidence he had ever had shriveled around your presence. It’s the way the two of you almost collided to each other at the campus hallway, and the way you threw an acknowledging, formal smile at him before striding away that made his heart ached. He wished you’d run to him and shriek his name with affection, but Reiner realized you were not one of his cheerleader exes, and not that he wanted you to be one. You were an anomaly he had yet to understand. A misplaced figure sticking out of his history of penchant for conformity.

“I really like you.” one day he finally said. Never had he been weak on the knees for a confession to any girl before, but this one occurrence? He did.

He didn’t know how he mustered the courage, but after hours, days and weeks he had spent trying to know you – learning your favorite song, accompanying you for book hunting, baking your favorite muffins, texting you good morning and good night – he finally got you alone, in the campus library, only five minutes before closing time.

You laughed at first, because the confession sounded ridiculous to you. The last thing you needed was a horde of girls sending you anonymous hate comments on Insta because you took the campus’ most eligible hunk off of the market. But he didn’t laugh along, and that was when realization hit you.

“So, is that why you’ve been following me around?”

Reiner furrowed his thin, almost non-existent brow, “What do you think?”

“I thought you were just bored with your jock friends,” you scoffed, “because you know, I’d be bored out of my ears too if all I ever heard all day is insecure men constantly praising themselves.” you glanced at Reiner, trying to discover even the slightest amusement on his hardened face to no avail.

“Reiner, are you serious?”

He sighed, couldn’t believe his ears. The first time ever Reiner caught you being stupid beyond recognition, “For the millionth times, yes.”

“You’ve only said it once, though.”

“For fuck’s sake,” the jock grunted, but there was a slight smile arose from his face, “I like you, really much. Times eight hundred ninety-eight thousand.”

“And?”

“So would you be my girlfriend?”

And you said yes, after three minutes of hesitation, you said yes. With a laughter. Because the absurdity of you being with someone like Reiner was lurid. Yet still, you were in no capacity to lie when his good morning text had been the most unsubstantiated text you looked forward to every day.

You wondered why? It’s just text. But maybe, you tried to convince yourself, it’s because of the effort he put, of trying to wake earlier before you every morning although he was hardly a morning person. Or it’s the way he listened to your kind of music although he was practically tone deaf, and returned to you the next week with his analysis on why your favorite band’s first album was their masterpiece and that sadly they never outdid it with any of their following albums.

And maybe, it’s the sight of the topless Reiner in the football field, after a home match. The way he was quick to run to the side of the field with his Captain instinct, lurching himself towards the start of a brawl between the two teams’ players, heated by animosity over the match result. Reiner was strong enough to break at least ten muscular jocks apart from throwing punches at each other, and with his deep, stern, authoritative voice, he commanded them to “Stop it. Fuck off.” You remembered immediately leaving the bleachers and found the nearest toilet because you needed to breathe and that you felt things simmering in your nether area. You never felt like that before to any of your exes.

Reiner knew the mutual pining between the two of you was evident, and so he was left puzzled when you said, “But please don’t tell anyone yet.” He asked why, but you only shrugged your shoulder with an answer that gave very little explanation, “I just don’t feel like having people talk about us.”

Reiner trusted you, because at first, he thought it was for modesty, you were not a fan of the limelight, evidently. Or it’s for practical reason, you don’t want to be burdened by society’s expectation on how two adults in relationship should be. Reiner could make 1,000 excuses for you that would justify your terms and conditions, so he went with what you wanted, because he was so hopelessly into you.

Nonetheless, still he enjoyed holding your hand in the dark alley of the campus – away from all the prying eyes, or the girls that’d giggle walking past the beautiful giant. Still he liked to have you sleeping naked in his embrace, making lazy circles with his calloused digits on your small back, at the emptiness of his dorm room when his roommate was home early for Christmas. Still he enjoyed teasing you at unassuming place, at the quiet library, studying together in silence for the upcoming exams, he’d be sitting next to you, leaning to his chair and slithered his right hand underneath your sweatshirt, to playfully and quickly unclasped your bra, only for you to smack his stomach in annoyance. He liked you, and he liked how you scurried to the restroom to fix your bra. He liked to be with you, no matter in silence or in noise.

However, after six months, questions started to throb incessantly inside Reiner’s mind. Even after all the time you had spent together, why must still he go alone to the football team soiree? Why would you let his team mate thought that Reiner was single, and promised him chances with girls, left and right? Why were you unfazed to see the girls sliding into his DMs? And when you put on that tight, backless black dress on New Year’s Eve, why would you put it for your friends’ party, and not for his eyes only? Why would you color your lips with the blood red Chanel lipstick Reiner gave you, and smile at other people that’s not him?

Reiner could not make sense of you. He pondered, he wondered and he became jealous. He’d look at you intently and see whether there was any trace of other man on you that he had not recognized? He’d become quiet and his friends thought he had gotten sensitive over nothing. The captain had become agitated, irritable and his head was hardly in the game – all with seemingly no reason.

Reiner began to think that he knew the reason why. He thought it’s the boy you’d met at the Academic Writing class, with stupid name and equally stupid undercut. Porco Galliard, you said his name was. In an instance his name had become a staple in your conversation. When Reiner asked you out for a dinner, it’d be like, “Ah sorry babe, I got this assignment with Porco.” A trip to the zoo? “You know, Porco have this funny experience with apes.” A night out in his dorm? By the point Reiner had a half-boner forming already seeing you in your lounge shorts, you’d be giggling and stayed busy with your phone. Reiner asked, “What’s so funny, babe?”

“What’s so funny, babe?” he asked again, because you didn’t seem to hear the first time he asked you. Distracted, you showed a stupid meme on your phone, “Porco sent me this.”

Porco here, Porco there. Reiner was sick of hearing that dumb name.

He had tried to look up for his background, and he hated to find that all that ever came up about him were amicable. His friends knew him, said he was chill, said he was smart as fuck, said he had a cool family, said he turned down a track and field scholarship for law school. Porco Galliard is a cool dude, they all said.

At certain point Reiner had grown to be furious, and the more your text messages became sparse or the more you spent your Saturday nights without him, the more he set his mind to do something about the two of you. He had become so sick of hiding and he wanted the whole world to know that you were his. Especially that guy with a name that sounded like her mother hated giving birth to him.

So came that day. You hadn’t been replying to his texts since morning, and only did so after chains of messages he left.

[you | 11.35] oh my god reiner!!! I’M SO SORRY, i left my phone uncharged all morning. i’m heading to cafeteria rn, it’s muffin tuesday 😵👅

[reiner | 06.37] good morning baby

[reiner | 07.49] you awake now?

[reiner | 08.15] sleepyhead 😪💤 see you today pretty

[reiner | 10.23] i got practice today until late. see you tonight? my room?

[reiner | 10.55] are you in class rn?

[reiner | 11.36] wanna go together?

[you | 11.45] haha noo a lot of people there

[reiner | 11.45] who r u going with?

[you | 11.55] with pockooo haha we got class together after lunch

Pocko. Is that an endearing term you came up with for the jizzhead? Reiner thought, pissed off beyond compare. He paced restlessly in his room, trying to figure out what did Porco have that he didn’t have? Thinking of how his undercut made his head looked way bigger for his neck, just like sperm; and it made Reiner mad angry. “Fuck you, Jizzhead”, he hissed, kicking the pile of dirty laundry on his dorm room.

The cafeteria was bustling busy when you arrived with Porco. The two of you immediately joined the line for lunch and the muffin. The man was busy babbling about yet another stupid thing that he had done back in high school, but your mind was darted on the muffins that were sold off fast. You looked around and almost everyone you disliked were present – mostly Reiner’s jock friends and their girlfriends. The prospect of one day going public with Reiner and having to spare days in your life to socialize with these loud people made you squirm. Not that you were completely against it, you were just… enormously reluctant to do so. Also, what would they say about you? You barely existed for them, evident by how they just greeted Porco with huge affection, yet pretended like you were invisible despite the fact that you were talking and standing close to him.

Your mind was elsewhere, between eyeing the muffin and managing your detest towards the it crowd, you weren’t even listening to the small talk that Porco was having with some of the jocks, until the mention of your name spilled out of Porco’s mouth, “Hey, have you guys known ___ before?”

You blinked with surprise, and they looked at you unenthusiastically, “Ummm, no?” one of them said.

Porco stared at them in disbelief, as if not knowing you was a big sin, “Get to know then! She’s cool, she’s really into—” but even before Porco could finish his words, they averted their attention elsewhere, pulling out their phone like it was the most important thing in the world, and talked amongst themselves. How fitting, because the first thing they talked about as an excuse for ignoring you was to talk about Reiner, “The captain’s been grumpy. Haha. That man. What’s up with him?” You cringed, because you knew there was no weight in talking about Reiner that must be done at that time, that moment. They just wanted a reason not to be roped into talking to you, obviously because you didn’t think you were cool enough or some other shit excuse only them and their bobbleheads understand. So, conveniently throwing out Reiner’s name was an effective way to basically say ‘haha look at us talking about the coolest guy in the campus so you know we’re in this cool clique unlike you’. You read them too well. You couldn’t even be amused anymore.

Porco looked embarrassed, he smiled at you awkwardly and stayed silent, until one of the girls threw their attention back to the man dirty blond undercut, “Anyway, Porco, do you know Reiner?”

“Ah, I haven’t had the chance to.”

The girl frowned rather dramatically, “Oh my god, we all should totally hang out together with Reiner, right? He’s like—super cool.” her question was obviously in exclusion of you. You rolled your eyes and turned away to see new text from Reiner appearing.

[reiner | 12.15] im going there

[you | 12.16] convenient. right in time. your cool friends are all here and you can sit with them and be cool with them or whatever I guess haha

You immediately pulled your phone to your chest; you could feel your heart thumping. Is this it? Is this it? The question became menacing in your head, because you were not sure on what Reiner was planning to do. The line to the muffin was still far away, and it would be stupid to run away.

[reiner | 12.17] idgaf about em

[reiner | 12.19] i want u

You could hear the girls were still talking about Reiner. Reiner this, Reiner that. You were nowhere to lie that you could feel your chest heat up with annoyance. The way their squeaking voice praised Reiner’s body, Reiner’s personality, Reiner’s wit. For the first time, you knew you were experiencing jealousy, vibrant and up-close.

“You know what? One time, Reiner thought that the way I did my hair was so cute that he wanted—”

Just in time, one of the boys raised his voice, “Oi Reiner!” and in unison the jocks erupted, welcoming his arrival like they were in some goddamn party.

You could see Reiner walking towards the line you were in, his face was hardened and his walk was swift. You immediately turned away to look at the opposite direction, not wanting to see him.

“Yooo Reiner! Where have you been? We’ve missed you dude,” one of them said. You cringed at how they all tried so hard to sound cool, “have you met Porco, by the way? And his friend—”

“—hey, what’s her name again?” one of the girls chimed in, asking Porco instead of asking you directly, as if you were not there. At that point, Reiner was standing not too far behind you, and you pretended like you were too busy with your phone, hoping the floor would engulf you instead.

“Is she like, deaf or something?” the girl whispered to Porco with a jeer, before getting back to Reiner, “So, Rei, I’ve got this party—”

“—yo Capt, do you know that—”

“—have you heard about the news, dude? Like—”

The way all these people tried to suck up to Reiner was so pathetic and incessant, they all chirped like hungry birds all in a matter of couple of seconds. You hated them and you hated the situation.

“—come on, Capt, that would be awesome—”

“—oh my gosh, Rei—”

“—you must try it, Rei—"

“Shut the fuck up,” Reiner said. Rather abruptly. His voice was cold and deep, like he couldn’t give a damn in this world about any of them. Surprised, they all dropped quiet in an instance. You looked over your back at him. Reiner was staring at you, and at you alone, not even at the Jizzhead he had grown to hate so much, “you all talk too fucking much.”

You snorted, suppressing a laughter to escape from your mouth. Clearly, it was too audible, that the girls were now looking at you with complete disdain.

“Babe,” Reiner said, staring at you, while you were still facing the opposite direction, “babe, what are you doing with this Jizzhead here? I can bake you muffins remember? If you want it so much.”

Your surrounding fell deep in silence. Everyone was either confused or surprised. Murmur started to sweep over the crowd, most audible was: ‘Who is Jizzhead?’

You scoffed, finally turning your back, although still closing your mouth trying to prevent the laughter and the embarrassment to display itself.

“What the hell?” one of the girls asked in dismay, obviously she was one of the girls sliding into Reiner’s DM and sending him bikini photos by the pretense of ‘Rei, you should join us for summer holiday!’ when all she wanted to do was to show her tits.

“Shut up,” Reiner said to her, baffling the girl to complete silence, “and stop sending me your beach photos. They’re ugly.”

An uproar of restraint laughter was heard throughout the cafeteria.

“Babe,” Reiner said again, this time extending his arms toward you, gesturing for you to come closer, “now you know why I need you, right? My friends are fucking whack.”

Few laughter was starting to break. Yet Reiner was unfazed.

“Reiner, what—”

“—yo dude, what the hell?

“—who is she?”

“—are they dating?”

“And listen here, you hag,” Reiner now turned his attention to the girl who called you deaf, “she’s got a name. Her name is ___, and she’s my fucking girlfriend.”

Embarrassed yet amused, you finally let out a small chuckle, “Reiner, please you’re humiliating me.”

“Whatever,” he shrugged off. Reiner now turned his attention to Porco, “and listen here you, Jizzhead. You can be nice to her but keep in your fucking mind, she’s mine.”

Without hesitation, Reiner pulled your hand and yanked you closer to him. You stared at him for a second, eyes broadened and heart thumping, “Reiner, what are you gonna do—”

“—shut up.” he said, cupping your face with his gigantic hands, and pulled your face roughly to him, before landing his dry, chapped lips to yours. He had gone sick of pretending, and doing things in secret. So there Reiner Braun was, hungrily, longingly, sloppily devouring your lips with his mouth, so deep, so thirsty of your taste. He finally showed the world who the true owner of his heart was. You.

[weeb-writor]

MHA boys on take your kid to work day

Hello! New post with 3 of my loves! Just them reacting to your kids visting them at work Bakugou and Aizawa are fluff and just a hint sad while Izuku’s is fluff and crack! Reader is neutral.

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

 Bakugou Katsuki x Reader, Aizawa Shouta x Reader, Midoriya Izuku x Reader

They react to their kids coming to visit them on bring your kid to work day

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

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

When little Kaori said she wanted to go with Bakugou to bring your kid to work day, who she called Papa, you were a little hurt but decided hey you could use this as an excuse to hang out with him as well. A sort of family day at Bakugou's agency. Bakugou on the other hand was less than thrilled he did not want his baby girl anywhere near the dangerous agency or on the field with him. He also couldn't say no so, here you were with your daughter all dressed in his official costume merch, bouncing on your hip with joy. 

“We at daddy work now?” She said as she glanced around.

“Little girl even if you ask every two minutes it won't make us get there faster.” You said with a smile.

“Otay!” She said with her cute slur. She didn't get the chance to ask the question again as you entered the building.

“Oh look who it is!” A voice boomed out to you both. You recognize it as Kirishima, Kaori's partner in crime. Next to him was Bakugou who was giving you a goofy smile.

“Uncle Eiji! Uncle Eiji!” The little girl roared as she ran to meet him, slipping from your arms. She dashed into his rams and giggled as he threw her into the air.

“Oi you little brat! What about papa, just forgot all about me? Im wounded.” Bakugou said in a playful tone. The little girl gasped and grabbed bakugou's leg when she was back on the ground.

“No papa don't be wounded! I didn't forgot you!” She said into his leg, bakugou picked her up with a chuckle and came to your side.

“Yeah don't worry she didn’t forget about her precious papa. You all she could talk about I didn’t think I would find someone who talks about you more than you do but then again she is your kid.” You said making yourself and Kirishima laugh.

“OUR kid! You talk about me just as much, i'm the best husband and dad and hero, of course she’s gonna brag about me to anyone with ears.” He said ruffling her hair as he placed her down next to him.

“Papa, c’mon we gotta do papa works!” The little girl said, bouncing around the lobby.

“Oh yeah! You wanna see papa and me kick some ass?! You gotta take all in so you can be a great hero too someday!” Kiri said, further riling the girl up.

“Yay! Gonna watch you and papa kick ass and take names!!” The girl said not watching how her parents' faces paled. Kirishima only laughed and told you he was gonna take Kaori on a tour of his office real quick.

“Stop being such a bad influence on my daughter shitty hair!” Your husband roared after the pair of giggling retreating figures.

“Him? Puppy eyed, soft, and cuddly Kirishima Eijirou, badly influencing Kaori? It's all you babe, the little girl is so in love with you she does everything you do, just a bit cuter.” You said as you pecked his check.

“She isn't like me, stop saying that.” He said seriously with a grunt.

“She is, you are her hero. She wants to be just like you, what's the problem with that? You’ve been pushing her away every since she said she wanted to come here.” You said glaring at him.’

“I have not.” He said looking away from you.

“Yes you have, Katsuki, just talk to me cause you're gonna break your daughters heart. Every night you used to tell her stories of your patrols. Buy her you and Eijirou’s hero merch, hell even deku’s. Kids arent dumb shes is going to notice you stopped doing those things.” You said grabbing his chin and making him meet your eyes.

“She shouldn't want to be like me, okay!! I never want her to be a Pro-hero! I never want her to have scars on every inch of her body’s and be insecure about how she looks! I never want her to have nightmares of screams or the people she couldn’t save. I don’t want to worry that one day she might not come home, okay. And all the shit I went through at UA!? No way.” He whisper shouted at you.

“You're getting way ahead of yourself baby. Kaori isn’t even in school yet and barely has bloomed into her quirk. She isn’t getting any battle scars just bumps and bruises. It’s easy to worry about the what if’s but it’s even easier to just focus on her laugh or her smile when she talks about you. Love your also forgetting you are more than a pro hero, your a good man who’s funny, brave, and little wild. That’s who Kaori wants to be like not Dynamight, she wants to be like her papa, Bakugou Katsuki.” You said caressing his cheeks. He considered your words with flushed cheeks, before he let out a sigh but before he could respond Kaori came crashing to him.

“Papa! Papa! Papa!” The girl said jumping up and down with her hands up. Bakugou laughed but picked her up nonetheless.

“C’mon papa! We gots to go do paperworks! Uncle kiri said we do that then we go kickass!” She said wigging with happiness in his arms, you laughed as he paled again.

“Sure baby girl but please don’t say that bad word, papa doesn’t like it.” He said as he walked towards his office.

“To bads! I wanna be just like you papa and you say it so I’m gonna say it too!” She said, pulling at his cheeks.

“You damn brat just listen to me! If you’re gonna try to be like me at least be a better version not a copy pasted person which means no cussing!” He yelled gently at her.

“Okay papa! Does this mean you’ll teach me how to be as great as papa! Wanna be just like you ‘member” she said with determination.

“Don’t say anymore no no words today and hell yeah I will! I’ll teach you how to be even better than Papa.” Bakugou said not looking at Kaori but looking at you. His look was saying what his mouth couldn’t, he was done thinking of what could happen years from now. Right now he just wanted to do whatever made his little girl smile whatever that means.

AIZAWA SHOUTA

“Tell me you did not.” Aizawa said to his blonde friend.

“I did, you can't be mad!” Hizashi said with a chuckle.

“I can be and I am. I told you I didn't want them here.” he said lowly.

“There are a bunch of pros here, security is super tight and they know not to call you or me by our government names or to say their full names and besides Y/n is gonna be here the whole time.” The blonde said, trying to calm down his friend.

“No matter how tight our security is, stuff seems to slip through the cracks and put the students in danger. I don't need any villains learning I have not one not two but three huge and very exploitable weaknesses.” He said as they neared his rooms where his students were waiting.

“They are wearing face masks and hoods. Any part of them that is distinguishable is being hidden, its gonna be fine. Don't act like you aren't excited to see them, its been 4 days i know you're itching to see them.” Hizashi said as his friend went into his classroom. He had only gotten about halfway through the class when the door opened and you were seen in the doorway.

“Dada!!” The little one year old said in your arms skirming for her dad. The whole class craned their necks to see you, your one year old, and your 4 year old.

“Hello Eraserhead!” You laughed as you went to sit at an open desk placing both of the kids on your lap. The class glanced from the kids to their teacher and back again.

“Sensei! You have kids! And you're married!” A blonde one yelled.

“Denki stop yelling you're gonna give me a headache. Yes I do, which I hope you can all keep them a secret.” He said with a sigh.

“You're such a grump I don't know how they tolerate you. Hello, I am Y/n, this little one is Kumiko, and this one is Shira.” You said as you waved at them, Kumiko copied you and gave the kids a lazy wave to which all the kids cooed at. Aizawa smiled and went back to explaining what the class would be doing for the rest of class period which was just some research on a few different kinds of hero agency.

“Hello my pretty girls.” Aizawa said taking the bouncing girl from you.

“Hi daddy! Can I help you with your work!” Shira said with a toothy smile, she had a sort of fascination with quirks.

“To be honest sweet thing they are learning big words right now, words too big for you but im sure they would love to talk to you and tell you about their quirks.” He said ruffling her hair. Then his quirk activated as he looked at his class.

“Say anything inappropriate, lose control of your quirk and hurt her and I'll expel you.” He said menacingly to which all the kids nodded in fear. That's all Shira needed to hear before she walked over to a group of students.

“She was so excited when I told her we were going to see you, I think she's going to be a teacher someday.” You said gazing up at Aizawa who was playing with Kumiko.

“Uh uh sweet talk like that isn't gonna work. I told you it is too dangerous for them to be here.” He said with a pout.

“I remember saying there isn't a safer place than with you!” You said with a small smile.

“Well have it your way as usual when Shira or Kumiko start acting like one of these brats you and Mic will be to blame.” He said with a sigh.

“Well Mr. Easerhead, I'll be prepared for punishment! I think i have nothing to fear though the smile on your face says everything you can't.” You said as he played with your daughter. The day went like this. You and Aizawa playing with Kumiko and Shira floating about the classroom, The day had almost went by without any event when Shira louds cries were heard. Aizawa handed Kumiko to you and was at her side in a second. She rushed into his torso and cried even more. The class all had their fingers pointed to 3 of the boys.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” He spoke to her softly. Her little fist rubbed at her eyes.

“I told then that you were the best hero and then green one was like ‘thats All might’ and then the blonde one was like ‘yeah he really great person’ then the red and white one was like ‘yeah he is number 1’ they dumb assholes anyway cus he not 1 anymore dats ‘devor! You're the best hero, aren't you daddy?” The girl said as she looked at her dad with stars in her eyes. You were just laughing as quietly as you could.

“Im anything you want me to be sweetheart but don't say asshole it's a naughty word for adults.” He said, wiping the drying tears from her cheeks.

“But the blonde one said it alot.” She said with a pout.

“Did he now? Well in that case I forgot you have a 3 mile run today, and it's a test. Be back before class is over which is roughly 30 no 27 minutes or you'll be put on cleaning duty for the whole school including the dorms.” He said and the class was off just like that. Your small family watched from the window as the students ran with Shira sometimes yelling out the window.

“And don't stop until you finished you lazy wannabe heroes!” She shouted with a happy smile.

“Did I say it right daddy?” She said wiggling in his arms.

“Yes you did sweetheart.” He said with a proud smile.

MIDORIYA IZUKU

You and the twins had been at Izuku’s agency for a while and he was going insane. The boys were 3 and nothing like their father. They were wild, loud and adventurous. They didn't and wouldn't stay still. The office loved it but Izuku was about to have a heart attack, Tatsuo was missing. He was only 3 and couldn't really open the door or operate an elevator so you, Bakugou, and Uraraka were not all that worried but poor Izuku was.

“Deku calm the fuck down. He’s been gone for like 2 minutes maybe he couldn't have got far.” Bakugou said to his stressing friend who was putting Toshi back into his leash backpack thing.

“It only takes 1 second to get hurt or die, Kacchan. I’ve failed as a parent.” He said, sounding too serious. You couldn't stop your laughter now.

 “Honey, our kids are too predictable. Just get a bag of C-A-N-D-Y from their bag and shake, Tatsuo will come running.” You said with a small smile taking Toshi from him.

“Oh good thinking!” He said getting a bag and shaking like crazy. Soon little footsteps were heard and Tatsuo emerged from behind Izuku smiling like crazy.

“Daddy, can I have a candy, pretty please!” He said with his cute smile almost making his father forget he ran from then.

“Only if you promise to never wander off like that again!” Izuku said as sternly as he could, but it wasn't very stern at all. The boy nodded at him and stuck out his hand but when he did Izuku noticed blood all over his hand and fainted within seconds. You and Bakugou went to find bandages and a first aid-kit for Tatsou while Uraraka got water to wake up Izuku.

“Oh my gosh! Does he need stitches or something! We should take him to the hospital.” Izuku said as he shot awake. The people around all laughed at the green haired boy.

“No babe, he was just playing with a stapler and staple his hands…. A few times but he’s fine.” You said pointing to the two boys who were watching Bakugou make very small explosions. 

“Tatsuo! Toshi! Don't get too close you could get hurt! We should go home babe, hey Uravity take over for me I’m going home!!” He yelled shakily. You weren't sure what you were gonna do with your worrywart husband, especially when the boys do or don't get quirks. He couldn't handle them now without needing an inhaler. He damn sure couldn't if they got quirks, you could picture it now. A funeral caused by your rambunctious kids for your husband. ‘Here lies a lovely but overbearing and worrywart father.’

[pascalpanic]

Oooh the fluffy prompts are fun! Could you do “are you sugar personified or something?” with Javier?

Birthday Cake (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: Your best friend Javi, the storm cloud to your rainbows and sunshine, is celebrating a birthday today. Gotta cheer the grump up!

W/C: 1.9k

Warnings: language, Javi has dirty thoughts. of course he does.

A/N: idk I just think he’s neat 💖 thanks for the prompt!!

Few people know things about Javier that weren’t common knowledge. Most people know that his full name is Javier Peña, he’s from Texas, he’s fantastic at his job and he’s a womanizer.

You and Steve Murphy are two of the people with more knowledge. You know that he has a sweet tooth but doesn’t recognize it. You know his favorite brand of cigarettes, his favorite brand of whiskey, he always knocks twice in a quick succession on a door. He’s a wild card in the field, but he’s incredibly predictable around the embassy and as a friend.

You work as an Intelligence Research Specialist at the embassy, processing raw data and turning it into intel. This means you work closely with the agents, but Peña and Murphy are your favorites. Steve is the only man who doesn’t hit on you in the entire building, and Javier is the only man who can do it in a way that makes your stomach flutter a little.

You’re the go-to gal for the two mustached men. If they need data, you’re the one they find. And that’s often- the two men love to make impulsive decisions about fieldwork, and you’re the one who has to give them the grounds to go do things. You’re the one who decodes the wiretap that the agents place. You help with interrogations sometimes, and give the men recommendations on what they should do. It’s rare that any of them, besides Peña and Murphy, listen to you, though.

The three of you are the triple threat around the office; wherever you go, the other two men aren’t far behind. They follow you like ducklings to the mother bird with the information, the details, the who-what-when-and-where to their how.

The two men enjoy you too. Steve loves your baking. It reminds him of home. Javier, on the other hand, rarely comments when food is presented to him, but he’ll eat plenty of the sweet treats when he thinks no one is looking. Javier refers to you as a “ray-of-fucking-sunshine,” usually through a mouthful of whatever you baked last. Your positivity and energy is the complete opposite of his gruff demeanor.

Javier really likes you, more than he should. He wants you, wants to kiss you deeply and lay you down on his bed and absolutely destroy you. You’re just so fucking cute, always with that infectious good mood. You see the shit these men do on the daily, and you still seem almost naive. No, not naive. Just hopeful. That’s rare, and Javi admires it.

You like them, as more than coworkers, as friends. Steve is a funny guy. You like him and his wife, Connie. They’re good company. You live next door to the Murphys, which puts you right near Javier too.

Javi, you two called him outside of work. He had a dry sense of humor, and was hard to pull away from the job. They both were. You were better at compartmentalizing than they were. He was handsome and flirtatious, but you figured he’d never like you. Too different of people.

The three of you shared details of your lives at work. Steve would talk about his adoptive daughter’s latest milestones, about his wife and his arguments. You and Javier didn’t have much to share. Your heart twinged every time Steve mentioned another hookup Javier had had.

Something about him is magnetic. Javier makes you grin and giggle and shy away but come out of your shell at the same time. But of course, you’re coworkers and friends. Just friends. It would be impractical to think that you could be something more, if he even wanted to in the first place.

November rolls around in Colombia, and with it comes Javier’s birthday. November 8th, in a year he refused to tell you. Steve told you later. The Murphys and you are the only people aware of this. Javier doesn’t like a fuss to be made over him. Of course, knowing you, a fuss is the only thing practical.

It’s a Sunday when Javier turns a year older. Connie and Steve are doing something with their daughter, probably. Javier doesn’t have friends besides you or Steve. That motivates you to go even grander.

You wake in the morning with a grin. November 8th. After taking your time waking, you find your way to the kitchen and begin the process. You lovingly fold the dry ingredients in a bowl, then add the wet ones. A beautiful looking cake batter forms, and you dare to lick the spoon once the cake is in the oven. It’s good.

As it bakes, you hum to yourself and find your way to the phone. “Murphys,” a sweet voice rings out. Connie.

“Hey lovely,” you say with a grin. “Is Steve home?”

“Yeah, what’s up? Please don’t be calling for work,” she says, even though the tone of your voice indicates it isn’t.

“Oh, no. I guess you’d know: it’s Javi’s birthday. The two of them doing anything tonight?”

“I completely forgot,” Connie gasps. “But no, not that I’m aware of.”

“Just checking. Thanks, girl.”

“Yeah, any time.” Connie hangs up right as the oven beeps that the cake is done.

-

A knock comes at Javier’s door in the evening. He opens it to find you with a beautifully iced cake, a bottle of whiskey, and a grin. “Happy birthday,” you say as you see him, and his neutral expression grows to a small smile.

“You know I hate birthdays,” he chuckles lightly.

“That’s too damn bad, because I love them. Do you have any plans for tonight?” You ask him.

He’d been considering calling up one of his girls to fuck until he forgot his name or how old he was getting, but he’d much rather be with you. “No,” he shakes his head.

“Wanna share this cake and whiskey?” You ask, hope in your eyes as you lean forward a little.

Javier laughs.

“Are you sugar personified or something? Come on in,” he says and moves to allow you in. You set the cake and whiskey down on his counter and immediately head for a cupboard where you know he keep the plates. “Thank you for this.”

“Of course. It’s my best friend‘s birthday, gotta treat him.”

“I’m your best friend?” He asks, somewhat in disbelief as you return with two plates, two forks, and two glasses of whiskey.

You shrug. “Of course you are. Who else would it be, Steve?” You snort as you sit at his table and he sits across from you.

“Just… no one back home?”

You give him an honest smile, your perky demeanor dropping. “No, Javi. You’re my best friend. I genuinely enjoy you as a person. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes.”

You sigh and reach for your purse. “You’re a piece of work, Peña,” you sigh as you stick a couple of candles into the cake. You don’t smoke, but you carry a lighter for Javier and Steve, which you grab from your purse and use to light the candles. “Okay. Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,” you sing softly to Javier, grinning and looking into his eyes.

He doesn’t deserve you, he thinks to himself. Someone so beautiful and kind and yeah, beautiful, so stunning, and yet you never go on dates or hook up with anyone, even when it’s so easy. Why? He selfishly hopes it could be because of him.

“Happy birthday dear Javi… happy birthday to you.” He knows the drill. He blows out the candles and they go out easily. “What did you wish for?” You ask sweetly and quietly, slicing into the cake.

“Can’t tell you.” It was you. He can’t tell you that not because he fears it won’t come true, but because he fears what could come after it.

You sigh. “You’re impossible,” you tease and scoop a slice, handing it over to him. He pops the bottle of whiskey open and pours a glass for each of you.

“You’re the impossible one. All sunshine and rainbows in the middle of a fucking drug war.”

You shake your head as you scoop yourself a piece. “Someone has to be. No one else was taking the job. You think I enjoy it? I get pissed sometimes too. I hide it.”

“You, angry? I’d like to see it,” he shakes his head and takes a bite.

Rolling your eyes, you take a bite of the cake too. “Hiding my feelings for the good of others since the day I popped out of the womb.”

His face softens. “Hey.”

You shake your head. “Sorry to be depressing. It’s your birthday, after all. How does it feel to be a year older, hm?” You ask, trying to put the facade up again. It only half works.

Javier sets down his fork. “Hey, brillante.” Shiny. “I know you have more feelings in there. Tell me them.”

“Since when have you been one for emotions, Javier?” You ask dryly and raise an eyebrow.

He nods. “That’s fair. But you can tell me anything. I’m your best friend, right?”

Sighing, you look down at your plate. You don’t want to admit that what you’re thinking about is how you don’t want him to be your best friend, you want to love and adore him and be more. Lovers, partners, anything. “Hey. Answer.”

The frustration gets you and you snap. “I care about you, Javier. I like you. I think about you a lot. As more than just a friend, really. And I shouldn’t, because we’re coworkers and friends.” The words flow before you can stop yourself.

He’s taken aback. He certainly didn’t expect that. “Oh.”

You bite your lip. “That’s exactly why I held that in for so long. Because you responded like that. It’s not your fault, either, so don’t say that, that you’re sorry you don’t feel the same, that-“

Javier stands and walks to your side of the table. He squats to your seated height. “Look at me.”

You do, albeit in a confused way. “Yeah?”

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I’m about to do this for me and me alone, because I know you want to do it too.”

“What?”

He kisses you, cupping your face in his hands. He tastes like frosting and whiskey and cigarettes and oh god, it’s heavenly. His calloused fingertips against your cheeks, his warm and plush lips against your own. He means it, you can tell it. He breaks away, breathing heavily. “Hey. My ray-of-fucking-sunshine. I want you, I’ve wanted you for a long time now. Since I first laid eyes on you.” He brings your face close to his. “Never hold it in again.”

You close the gap between the two of you, kissing him again. Hard. Passionately. You hold the back of his head with one hand, the other snaking around his shoulder. You stop for a second and stand, and he follows. “Goddamn, you really are sugar personified.” The gap closes between your lips, from mutual movement forward, into another needy kiss.

You throw your arms around him, making a soft noise of need into his lips. “Javi,” you shudder as his lips trail to your jaw and then to your neck.

“Got my birthday wish.”

[ballorawan740]

SCP Scenarios: SCP x Younger!Sister!Reader (REQUESTED)

Main Masterlist | SCP Scenarios Masterlist | My Works Masterlist | Rules | Request | Socials | My Original Post

Requested by:@mimiocto

SCP 073 (Cain)

(Yes. I think of Cain and Abel as brothers. Like a lot of others who's in this fandom)

Being the youngest sister of Cain and Abel meant that you has both or at least 1 of the brothers looking over you most of the time. Namely Abel. Cain however, was more lenient towards you and allowed you to have some free time. "CAAAAAAIN!!!" you screamed at the eldest brother. "Yes (Y/N)?" he answered softly. You wanted to ask him about Abel because you wanted to fix the problems they both had when they faced each other. By problem, it was that time when Cain killed Abel. You can't blame Abel for being mad at Cain because of this, but you really wanted to get your only family members together without having any tension. Cain noticed you thinking and questioning, "You ok (Y/N)?". You snapped out of your thoughts and smiled. "I was just wondering if 343 is free right now" you replied in which Cain didn't push any further. You both walked over to 343's cell for a visit. 343 was the other SCP you've ever been close to other than the brothers and 105. 343 sat in his room and read a book until he saw the both of you standing by his door. He greeted you and you guys had a nice chat. 343 always treated you and your brothers as a family so you were always comfortable around him. You are a safe class SCP with the number tag of 073-2.

SCP 076-2 (Abel)

(It's pretty much like Cain's as I just associate them both as brothers)

After your visit with the eldest brother, Cain, you went to see Abel. He was the most protective dickhead you've ever met, but he would give up anything to save you. "Hey (Y/N)!!!" your brother spoke. "Whaaaaaaaaaaat?!" you sighed heavily. "Tell the mechanical man to piss off". You wanted to slap some sense into Abel but didn't as you just sat in his box quietly and felt the need to cry. Abel came over to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You cried and slept in his box for a good few hours until the guards came to retrieve you. You both said your goodbyes and went back to your cells. You are also known as SCP 073-2, safe class.

SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)

Not unlike your older brother, you made everyone's day by being kind and gentle. You can heal their wounds and they'd give you treats in return. You and 999 hanged out every day and played for hours on ends. The guards who escorted you there were watching and giggling at your antics. Why do you need guards you ask? It's because one time an idiot decided to take advantage of you in which 999 requested guards to escort you at all times. The guards treat you kindly like a daughter/sister so you always held respect for them. After every test rounds, you were requested to help the SCPs while your elder brother helped with the test subjects. After that, you both were free to roam. Sometimes, you'd bump into 131 and they'd stay with you for a bit if the guards weren't there to stay with you. Your number is SCP 999-2, safe class

SCP 682 (Hard to destroy reptile)

Without any researchers mentioning you and that giant angry lizard, nobody would've guessed that you guys were blood related let alone siblings. Unlike 682, you weren't as hateful as him as you had a small bit of hope left for humanity, however, you can be fierce and cold when need be. Everyone including 682 has acknowledged this and sometimes you were helping the MTF to search and contain SCPs. Not only are you intelligent, you also had the strength which rivalled both 682 and 076-2 as seen when you both had a duel during a containment breach. 682 was a protective older brother when you both were young and still hold a good relationship till this day, with the exception of a few instances when you'd both have a fight and the poor innocent bystanders had to intervene the both of you. Its not like either of you would get hurt. You weren't afraid of most SCPs, unlike a certain wimp who was terrified of a rabbit, although you both shared the same interest towards a little girl in the facility. During containment breaches, you were often called in to fish out your big brother to avoid any further damages and kills. The SCP designation given to you is SCP 682-2, Euclid class.

SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)

Growing up with the plague doctor was rather unique. He taught you everything and anything you wanted. Especially the plague and how to perform surgery on humans. You travelled with him for centuries and had witnessed just as much as he did. After being "captured" by the foundation, the personelles often see you both side by side and rarely separated. Except for those interviews and tests. You wore a cape and a mask not too dissimilar to his, however, it only covered the first half of your face. Your style of clothing were of the Victorian era which you picked up on your travels and had some form of interest in those types of clothing. Like your brother, you spoke with manner and eloquence and wore cloves with pointed nails and also carried a bag with tools in which were the same make as those found in 049's bag. You have the designation of SCP 049-A, Euclid class.

Dr. Glass

Everyone at the facility shipped the both of you without realising that Dr. Glass was your older brother. "Hey (Y/N). Did anyone tell you that you and Simon would make a cute couple?" a researcher asked. You looked at him with disgust as Simon appeared out of nowhere and heard the conversation. The both of you said that you're both siblings without missing a beat and the researcher looked embarrassed and apologised. This news has spread like wildfire to both of your dismay and everyone said that they now see the resemblance. You both had similar personalities, however, the only difference is that although you did study psychology, you were specialised in neuroscience and forensic science.

Dr. Bright It's pretty much obvious that you both were siblings. Similar appearance, humour, intelligence, you name it. Boy only that, you had a bracelet with the same red gem as Jack's necklace. Much like the previous one I’ve mentioned (Dr. Glass) you did study the same subjects as your brother, and yes, you are specialised in a subject in the scientific field, namely biochemistry and mathematics. Not only that, but you’re also the head of the department and is in the O5 Council. Jack Bright was like every other older brother, annoying, protective and funny. As you both grow older, he became even more protective of you as you were one of the only family member left and he doesn’t want you to be in harm's way. He had witnessed too much for him to lose you so he would always accompany you if you were on a mission

(Sources - Pics: SCP 073 | SCP 076-2 | SCP 999 | SCP 682 | SCP 049 | Dr Glass | Dr Bright)

[charliethomascoxuniverse]

Interview with Charlie Cox and Wes Bentley

by Nobuhiro Hosoki - 01 February 2012 (X)

Story : London-based investigative journalist Robert Torres (Dougray Scott) visits Spain to research a book about Josemaría Escrivá (Cox), the controversial founder of Opus Dei. But Robert hits a wall, both professionally and personally, when his most promising source—his own father, Manolo Torres (Bentley), turns out to be his least cooperative one.

(Q): We were asking them before a little bit about your background and experience to the characters and what kind of research you did. (Q): I heard that your father is the minister, right? So you had the background that you had some of that relationship with your parents. Wes Bentley: Both my parents are Methodist preachers. In fact, in my extended family are quite a few preachers. My mother is remarried to a former Catholic priest, my brother's a preacher, my grandfather's an Evangelist; so I'm surrounded. Charlie Cox: They've got you cornered. Wes Bentley: Yeah, I'm cornered. (Q): Here you are a heathen. Wes Bentley: Obviously I've not just had them to fall back on and to ask questions, but I knew a lot just from my youth and growing up in church. My mom actually when they offered it to me she read the script as well. My parents are great because they're not only preachers they're both historians of everything they study, including the church, so they know a lot about it and have a lot to say. Charlie Cox: I was raised Catholic. (Q): So then you really have roots in this. What did this show you or enlighten you or not? Charlie Cox: Yeah, I was raised Catholic and I spent the best part of my school years trying to find ways and means of getting out of going to services, as all of us did. I've had kind of a funny journey since then. I've always been curious. I have a lot friends who kind of finished school and then never went to church ever again, and that wasn't quite my experience. I always kind of went back. I've also been very interested and read a lot about other religions as well and found that fascinating.

And my journey, of which the making of this movie has been a massive part of, has been revealing in many ways. It's a hard thing to talk about because it is so personal, and also because it's one of those things that you're so aware of how much it changes and has changed in the course of a week, let alone a year or a month. So it's something that I don't feel incredibly comfortable talking about because I know that that then goes into print and suddenly that's your opinion and view, and a week down the line I have a very different opinion and view. (Q): How'd you both get cast in the film? What was it about your character that made you say yes? Charlie Cox: I needed a job. I'll be honest with you. I really needed a job at the time. (Q): You weren't on the street begging. Charlie Cox: I wasn't on the street begging, no. I said yes primarily because of Roland. I had met with him, "The Mission" was one of my favorite films, and I loved "The Killing Fields" as well. I met with him, the audition process was to this day the greatest audition experience I've had. I remember ringing up my agent and saying "Okay, the script is currently a bit iffy and a bit all over the place, and I'm not sure what it wants to be, but I'll go wherever he is if he wants me to." (Q): And yourself? Wes Bentley: Basically the same thing verbatim. Same thing; I needed a job and I needed a good job. Or I needed a job and I wanted it to be a good job, please god. And then I get this script and to meet with Roland and I thought that can't be right, but I went and it was Roland.

And "The Mission" was huge for me as a kid too. It took a while because they were getting their money together, so I thought it may have disappeared, and then I was just so thankful when I got the phone call. And it was at a time when nobody was really working, so to have not only a film that you're in and getting to work, but a film with a good budget like this, it felt like a miracle. Charlie Cox: It really did actually, it really did. I'd forgotten that, but that's exactly right, it was at that time when no one was working. That was the only kind of redeeming factor of that period of that year was that no one was working. (Q): Did either of you feel a little bit cautious or intimidated by the fact that there was a faith component to this film, that the Catholic church is a big part of the theme, that perhaps that was something that would be a turn off to somebody?

Wes Bentley: Yeah, naturally. The thing about it is you can't please everybody, that's the nature of anything, including film. The fact that Josemaria was so controversial, and I don't know much about that. I only know now what I learned from the film about the beginnings of Opus Dei and a bit about stuff after that. Since it didn't affect my life personally I don't know it in detail.

But the film's not really like that. Like I said, the film is really just about the beginnings of Opus Dei. I think some people were actually frustrated by that; they wanted to see more about the controversy, when in fact the focus isn't even there. It's more about Josemaria's passion and calling as far as this aspect of the film goes, and how he maintained that passion and calling through a way, a very violent war. (Q): The whole work ethic, what Opus Dei stands for; is that something that you got something from? Did you take something from the movie that you're able to apply to your own life or that maybe reminded you of something that you've already done in your life? Or did it reinforce something or not? Charlie Cox: Yeah, I think that's true of most jobs. You learn something, whether it be a skill or something. But yeah, learning about Josemaria and the reading I did around his life and the little things he would do. Not the major events in his life that he's known for, but the little ticks that are most interesting for an actor who's preparing to play the role have taught me a huge amount, a great deal, and some of them have stayed with me today. (Q): Can you give me an example? Wes Bentley : One of the things is this idea, he had a word for it, but it was this idea, and it sounds quite abstract, and it was explained to me in a way by an Opus Dei priest, who was on the set with us who's to this day the most open minded man I've ever met in my entire life, which is ironic, considering he's an Opus Dei priest. We would sit down and tell him dirty jokes and try and shock him and he would howl with laughter. (Q): He probably could drink you under the table. Charlie Cox: I don't know if he could do that. We traveled through Spain together on this retreat when I was preparing for the role, and we had a few nights where we'd stay up late talking. Josemaria used to do this thing where he would offer up, it wasn't penance, but he would offer up discomfort or forms of discomfort and offer it up to god. But when it was explained to me he would do it not just for god, but he would do it to condition and to help himself wean himself off the grips of desire. And it's a practice, so for example every Thursday night he wouldn't sleep in his bed. In fact, every Thursday night he wouldn't sleep.

He would stay up all night on a Thursday night. And again, I know I'm not going to be able to explain it in the way it was explained to me, and it can sound a bit wacky, but little things, tiny things. If you're making a meal for you and your friend or you and your girlfriend and you can't help but notice one of them has more than the other plate, it's just worked out that way, and you know for damn sure which one you're getting.

Just a little thing like that. And what I'll do now is I'll notice that in the moment and I'll flip it, and I won't say anything. It's a tiny thing, but if you practice that all through your day it becomes other things like when you go to the loo in a club and the loo is gross, and so you think well why should I do anything about it because it was gross when I came in. And you think you know what, I'll do my bit. It's little things like that that you don't necessarily talk about except in press apparently. (Q): So you've been cleaning up the loos. Charlie Cox: Charlie Cox enjoys cleaning loos in New York clubs. (Q): Could you talk about how you guys tapped into the accent and how you played an old man? Wes Bentley: The accent was very tricky and much discussed because we had so many different actors from all over the world; Argentinean, Spanish, English, American. I can't count Olga because she was doing a Hungarian accent, but Rodrigo, Brazilian. We were all trying to match up a Spanish accent that was somewhat similar and it was very tricky. We had one dialect coach between all of us for her to run around and try to keep us all together. We debated whether there would be an accent or not and finally decided there would be one, but it was a lot of work. Charlie Cox: We're also not doing an accent that exists, which is tricky. If an English person speaks Spanish they stumble over words, but we're speaking English in a Spanish accent as if we're speaking in our native tongue. And it's been done before; famously they did it recently in "Valkyrie," and they did it in "Schindler's List."

But interesting enough they didn't do it in "The Mission." I was against it actually early on. The problem was with the Argentinean and Spanish actors, because they can't do an English or an American accent, and if you've got them sounding Spanish. In many ways why "Valkyrie" didn't work for me was because the accents were all over the place.

Wes Bentley: And the makeup was very difficult, a lot of work, a lot of physical work, a lot of emotional work. And I stayed in it all day and I don't do that as an actor, I don't stay in character in all day, but for this old man I had to. It was the most difficult thing I've ever done.

(Q): Did you two figure out a way of working together? In other words, some people keep themselves separate, some people work together, some people discuss their character, some people don't in terms of developing your parts that are complementing each other and interacting with each other at different points.

Wes Bentley: Did we rehearse with each other? (Q): Yeah I mean how did you talk to each other about your characters? Did you discuss it, did you keep it separate? Charlie Cox: We just became friends really. I know what you mean. I don't really buy into that thing as an actor where there's certain information you shouldn’t have because the character wouldn't have it. That's not acting to me really. I respect people who do that, it's fine, but often you'll find it's people who haven't done much theater work.

I've worked with actors who don't like to rehearse, they want to turn up and they want to just say it, and often you'll get a really good performance. But the trick with acting is to be able to do that and then do it again and then do it again, and do it twice a day on a Wednesday and twice a day on a Saturday, and it 250 times over the course of four months and keep it fresh each time. That's the real trick. (Q): What's next for both of you? Wes Bentley: We worked intensely together with Roland in fact. And Roland was great because we had a lot of childhood history that we had to build and it's difficult in a week and a half, but Roland was great because he had a lot in stock and he would kind of feed it to us in these sessions where we'd turn the lights off and turn on music and just start talking about history between us, and that worked.

And then we worked on scenes intensely. And I agree with Charlie, everything he said about acting. I think you have to kind of be open and talk about the whole thing. It's not just you and your character, it's the whole project. The movie's called "Gone" and it's with Amanda Seyfried. And then I'm doing something else I don't know if I can say yet. (Q): Who directed "Gone"?

Wes Bentley: A Brazilian director named Heitor Dhalia. Charlie Cox: I'm currently doing "Boardwalk Empire." It's great fun and it's interesting because I've only ever done theater and film before, so you get a script, you know what scenes you're in, you know what's required of you, I can tear up the script and make an arc and choose which moments I'm going to lose it. You can construct a performance. But on this show I got given two audition scenes and I had a brief conversation with one of the writers and he was like "This is what we're thinking."

And then as the show's gone on just every two weeks I'll get sides for the next episode and I'll be like "Oh okay, so this is what my character's like." I'm having to piece it together as we film it and it's actually in some ways very freeing, but in other ways it's like "Ooh, well if I'd have known that when I filmed episode two I wonder if I'd have done the same."

~End.

[caffeineforbucky]

As Time Goes By...(Chapter three)

A/N: This one took a while to write. I've just been so busy doing absolutely nothing all while procrastinating, so special thanks to that. No, but I really hope you like this, fellow reader. If you like the series, let me know if you want to be tagged!

(Side note: I've been playing RE8, thirsting over lady D, and dying over and over...it's going great! It's part of the procrastination...)

Also, has anyone seen the Bridgerton musical tiktoks? I swear I've had the 'burn for you' song in my head all last month and if you've been living under a rock...here's the link:

https://youtu.be/EwY9_m5qeow

Word Count: 2,299

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader

Warnings: I don't know....angst? As always, John Walker!?! AKA; Fake Cap. Umm...If I missed any let me know.

(A little PSA: I don't hate John Walker: or the actor. John is a well-written character. This is just strictly for the purpose of where my story is going. I'm more reiterating how Bucky treats him in the show. Thank you!!)

You groan, rolling from your left side to lay flatly on your back, arms spread out beside you. You inhale deeply, becoming aware of the moistened dirt and crushed wildflowers beneath you as they release their aromatics. Birds chirped around you, the busy sounds of traffic fading away while you lie still in the field, oxygen feeling heavy in your lungs.

"Y/N?!"

You barely heard the worrisome calls of Sam over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You lift your head, the view of icy mountains in the distance, blurry figures making their way towards you while you somehow managed to sit up. Your head was spinning, a sharp ache on the side of your thigh.

Your eyes flickered down, taking note of the small paring knife lodged in your thigh. You exhaled softly, nodding your head at the sight of it. "Okay," You grumble in agreement. With shaking hands, you wrap your fingers around the handle, bracing yourself by taking intervolved breaths before carefully pulling it from your thigh.

You worked fast, ignoring the crunch of rocks and dirt under the acknowledgeable footsteps of Sam and Bucky. Taking babochka, you cut off the end of your pant leg, wrapping the spandex around your wounded thigh before securing it with one of the holsters, tying the ends into a knot. You remain quiet, carefully pushing yourself up to your feet, transferring all of the weight to the opposite leg, eyes drifting up to meet the guys. "Are you guys okay?" You murmur, dusting off the clumps of dirt and dead leaves from your jacket.

"Are you?!" Sam exclaimed incredulously. "You're bleeding!" He points out, gesturing to the bright red staining the skin of your calf as it dripped down to your boot. The wrap might've held the wound shut, but that didn't mean blood wouldn't have soaked through.

"Oh, this?" You ask, glancing down at your leg, the wound throbbing in agony, but you did your best to avoid it. "I've had worse." That was true, from all those years fighting as an avenger. Getting shot, kicked, stabbed, beaten until you were purple, and undergoing mind control. This tiny stab was the least of your worries. It still hurt like hell, and you couldn't hide the discomfort in your features.

"Do you want a piggyback?" Bucky asks suddenly, slightly annoyed at your nonchalance and still concerned nonetheless. You weren't expecting it, the odd but kind offer, especially from the menace himself. Though you weren't one to pass up being carried. With a hesitant nod, you agree, watching Bucky crouch just a bit, allowing you to climb on his back.

The position was awkward for both of you. With his hands tightening on the back of your knees and your arms wrapped around his neck, neither of you could think straight. Yet, you were still thankful. The road to the airport was a long one, and you weren't sure if you could make it in your state. Bucky held you as if you weighed nothing, his super-soldier strength showing off while he carried you on his back, footsteps matching up with Sam. He didn't mind doing it, especially since he was the one who offered, and the proximity was just a bonus.

"Sorry about Redwing," Bucky muses, breaking the silence while the three of you sauntered down the empty road. There was nothing for miles, only empty plains of grass and dirt. Young trees scattered, lacking the greenery around them, evident of the cold weather in Munich.

"No, you're not," Sam remarks, narrowing his eyes to a pinprick at the winter soldier. "You've always hated Redwing."

"That doesn't mean I'm not sorry about it," Bucky grumbles, tightening his hold on you as he felt you slipping. You gasp at the sudden strength, clinging better to his shoulders as well. "How're you doin' up there?" He asks, jaw clenching from your touch.

"All things considering," You sigh, pushing aside the butterflies in your tummy at how close you were to Bucky. "I've been better. We've gotta find out where that super serum is coming from."

"Yeah," Sam chimed in, glancing at you. "-And how the hell after 80 years are there eight super-soldiers runnin' loose?"

Loud honks of a horn ring in your ears, tires treading on the gravel as an army jeep slows down beside the three of you. "So, that didn't go as planned, huh?" John chuckles, pushing the door open only for you to keep walking, paying no mind to the man in stars and stripes.

"Okay, keep going," John utters, signaling the driver to keep up as he pulls the door shut. "Look, at least we know what we're up against, huh? And I'm pretty sure it's one of the big three...so,"

"Aliens, androids, or wizards," Lemar comments as John nods his head in agreement.

"There's no such thing as wizards!" Bucky grunts, keeping his eyes forward, hands on the back of your knees.

"Fine, aliens or androids," John settles, sharing a look with his best friend beside him. "Look, it's 20 miles to the airport, and you guys need a ride. Gary, stop," He instructs, the wheels slowing down. John opens the door once again. "Get in," He sighs, motioning all of you inside the jeep as Bucky and Sam's footsteps came to a halt.

Bucky gently sets you down, taking note of the small whimpers falling from your lips. No matter how tough you appeared to be, you still carried so much vulnerability. "You okay?" He asks, eyes filled with so much concern it almost scared you. He hadn't looked at you like that in a while. "Do you want any help?"

With a soft nod, you oblige to Bucky's ask, needing more help than you anticipated. You didn't want to add any strain or force to your injury. You didn't even realize it happened, and that part of it was Sam's fault for swooping to grab you while you had a knife in hand, but you weren't going to start pointing fingers. You wrap your arm around Bucky's shoulder, using him as support while he boosts you up on the jeep after Sam climbs up first, helping you settle beside him.

"Woah!" John exclaims, almost rising to his feet at the sight of your thigh, your hands stained with blood. "Are you okay?"

With a curt nod, you adjust yourself to relieve some of the pressure while Bucky takes a seat on your left, leaving you to be right smack dab in the middle as he pulls the door shut. You blow out a breath, knowing damn well if it hadn't been for the mishap, you would've walked the damn 20 miles.

"Lemar, hand me the first aid kit," John instructs, pointing to the steel case beside his friend. You wanted to protest, but even you knew that the strap wasn't going to work. Mouthing a thank you, you take the case from Lemar's hand and clip it open.

"Okay, so we got eight super-soldiers on a bulk supply run," John continues, the jeep beginning to roll down the road. You hand the case to Sam, asking him to hold it while you searched for gauze, medical tape, and butterfly bandages, you were probably going to need stitches, but you'd worry about that later. "Why?" John asks, watching closely as you patched up your wound.

"They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during the blip," Sam answers, handing you another strip of tape. "Maybe they're just tryna help."

"They had a funny way of showing it," Bucky adds, his eyes trained on you, a hiss slipping through your lips as you roll down the remaining spandex. You sigh in relief, the ache becoming dull as you shut the case, giving it back to Lemar.

"Better?" John asks, earning a single nod as a response. "I don't think we've properly met. John Walker," he smiles, offering a shake of his hand, but you didn't move, only staring at the outstretched palm in front of you. "Does she talk?" John mumbles suddenly, looking to Sam or Bucky for a reply.

Your eyes cast down, gaze hardening at the sight of the shield in his grasp. Flashes of Steve running through your mind, the many times he'd catch you trying to throw it like he would. Steve Rogers meant a lot to you, having joined him in not signing the Sokovian accords, being an outlaw, and helping to clear Bucky's name with Sam. So, seeing a man who wasn't Steve hold the shield awoke something in you. Something unkind and hateful.

"When she wants to," You claim, John squirms in his seat, sensing the tension as your eyes flicker to his. "And frankly has no desire to speak to you."

"You don't even know me," John defends, glancing at Bucky, a sly smirk on his lips, and Sam, who rendered quiet, his eyes looking elsewhere. John sets his attention back on you, lips razor thin.

You scoff, shaking your head softly as you fold your arms over your chest. "Jonathon F. Walker," You begin, leaning back in your seat, your eyes never leaving his. "Former Captain of the U.S Army's 75th Rangers Regiment. Graduated at the top of your class from the United States Military and the first person in American history to receive three medals of honor, ran RS-one missions in counterterrorism and hostage rescue."

John's tongue darts between his lips, a frown spreading throughout his forehead at the information you were giving him. Either you did research on him or, you just read his file, which you had done both. You were not one to go into a mission without potentially knowing who you were up against. It was better to be safe than sorry.

"So you saw the news?" John chuckles, the frown falling from his features while he shrugs. "Big deal, so did the entire world."

"Custer's Grove High school alumni."

John's smile falters.

"There you met, Lemar Hoskins and your current wife," You tilt your head in curiosity. "Olivia, right? Or am I getting it wrong?"

Clearing his throat softly, John broke eye contact with you. So you did know him, and you probably knew more than you led on. "Do they always just stare like that?" He gestures between you and Bucky, who had displayed the same distaste for him.

Sam glances beside him, observing the matched body language you shared with Bucky, its no wonder Bucky had taken a liking to you, even if he'd never admit it. "You get used to it," Sam smirks, turning his head back to Walker.

"Okay..." John drags, eyes flickering to the more sensible one of the trio, and that was Sam. "Look, that serum doesn't have the greatest track record, no offense," He waves his hand, dismissing the insult directed towards the only super-soldier in the car.

"We need to figure out where they're going. How'd you track 'em here?" Sam asks, "The flag smashers."

"Uh," Lemar murmurs, scratching the back of his head. "We didn't track them. We tracked you through Redwing."

"You hacked my tech!?" Sam gripes, straightening out his back as he sat up.

"Sorry," John laughs, "It's not exactly hacking. It's government property...kind of the government. Alright, you know things have gotten kind of..."

"Chaotic," Lemar adds.

"Yeah," John nods in agreement. "The GRC, they're doing their best to get things up and running smoothly post blip. If you guys teamed up with us-"

"No." Bucky interrupts. He couldn't let Walker finish that sentence.

"I've got mad respect for all of you," Lemar praises, looking between the trio before him. "But you were getting your asses kicked 'til we showed up."

"And who are you?" Bucky bemuses, cocking a brow at the man next to John.

"Lemar Hoskins," You mention, "I could've sworn we've been through this." You shake your head at the old man, for being 106, he couldn't hear a thing.

"I see a guy hanging out of a helicopter in tactical gear," Sam shrugs, "I'm gonna need a lot more than Lemar Hoskins."

"I'm Battlestar, John's partner."

"Battlestar?" Bucky repeats, narrowing his eyes at Lemar as he nods, confirming his alias. "Stop the car!" Bucky shouts suddenly, brakes screeching as the wheels come to a stop in the middle of the road. Bucky pulls open the handle, ducking, as to not rail his head on the bar-frame above him before hopping off the jeep.

"Look, I get it, okay?" John sighs, calling after Bucky. "I get the attitude, I do. You didn't think the shield was gonna end up here. I get it, Bucky. And I'm not trying to be Steve!"

"Good," You interject, rendering John to settle his eyes on you. "Because you will never be. And just because you're the one wielding it..." You grab the bar above your head, using it to pull yourself up. "It doesn't make you Captain America." And with that, you carefully jump off the jeep, following after the heated super-soldier.

Sighing in frustration, he rips his eyes away from your retreating figures. "I'm not trying to replace him either. I'm just trying to be the best Captain America I can be." He explains to Sam, hoping the falcon would cut him some slack. "-And it'd be a whole lot easier if I had Cap's wingman on my side."

Sam's eyes widen in surprise, his tongue darting between his lips. "It's always that last line," He scoffs, shaking his head as he jumped off the car, following you and Bucky.

John's lips thin out, face scrunching in a scowl. "Let's go," He instructs. The sound of the jeep leaving making its way to your ears.

[tsukishumai]

Chemical Reaction - Kuroo Tetsuro

Summary: When the universe hands you a second chance, will you be able to move on from the mistakes of your past? 

college!Kuroo x fem!reader

a friends to friends w/ benefits to lovers type of deal.

Warnings: some light NSFW, slow burn, aged up characters, mentions of smoking, mentions of alcohol, fingering, cursing, and a little heartbreak. angst to fluff

Word Count: 7.3k (it goes by fast, I swear (′ꈍωꈍ‵))

A/N:  Jesus... this started out as a prompt, but it snowballed into whatever the hell this is. And it was supposed to be done by Kuroo’s bday T-T but better late than never! I poured in a lil extra love into this, pls give it a shot, lmk what you think, and I hope you enjoy !

Your history with Kuroo Tetsuro went back a little bit further than you’d like to admit.

He had been in your class for all three years you were at Nekoma, but you had really only popped onto each other’s radars second year.

He had been assigned the seat next to you, and while you were upset that your best friend, Eri, had been sat all the way across the room, you didn’t exactly mind the view.  

Right off the bat, you knew this was going to be trouble for you.

The guy was cute, funny, and smart. How hadn’t you noticed him before?

“Hey, L/N-chan,” he said, already making you blush with the addition of the honorific, “I have many chemistry jokes… but I’m afraid they won’t get a good reaction!”

You couldn’t stop either the face palm or the giggle that slipped out of your lips.

Kuroo was an easy person to get along with. He always greeted you in the mornings, and never really bothered you during class. On the rare occasion he stayed in the classroom for lunch, the two of you would strike up a conversation, but it never went past the surface.

Until about halfway through the school year. Your teacher had assigned a project that required a partner.

You looked to Eri, only to find the little traitor pairing up with the guy she had been eyeing since first year.

You sighed, not even mad at her for trying to shoot her shot.

“Want to be partners?” your head shot to the boy next to you.

“Uhm. Sure!���

And so it went like this; the project was due at the end of the year, requiring a research paper, and a 7 minute power point presentation.

Once or twice a week, the two of you would meet up at the school library either before school or after your club activities.

Kuroo was smart; smarter than you but you’d never say that to his face, so more often than not, the two of you would finish what needed to be done that day, and spent the rest of the time just talking, and getting to know each other.

By the third time the two of you had gotten kicked out by the librarian for laughing too much, Kuroo suggested meeting at his house on the weekends.

Surely that doesn’t mean what you think it means right???

It doesn’t, lmao. This guy was a good student, he made sure you guys finished your parts, because there was no way he was going to get anything less than an A.

Oh, you guys finished a little early today? Great! L/N-chan! Help me with my receives!

As the weeks pass by, there was a mutual progression in the relationship, neither of you seeing each other as project partners anymore, and falling into a comfortable friendship.

For Kuroo, that is. You, on the other hand, just became way too good at acting like you weren’t falling in love.

The school year is coming to a close, and you turn in your project.

Surprise, surprise! You guys got an A.

Seriously, the teacher said she was going to start using it as an example for the future students.

You couldn’t even be happy about your passing grade; you were too sad that your time with Kuroo was ending.

“Well, it was really fun being your partner this year,” you said, and Kuroo cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Why do you sound like someone’s dying,” he joked, “Anyway, Kenma said he bought a new game, but it’s multiplayer. What time are you coming this weekend?”

Bitch, ya heart nearly jumped out of your chest.

For a little while, you were content with things being like that. You had become good friends with not just Kuroo, but Kenma as well. You guys weren’t always together, but definitely made a point to make time for each other.

While you guys were usually busy during the week, club activities, homework and school taking up most of your time, Saturdays at Kuroo’s had become a thing well into your third year. As much as possible, you would try to attend his games, and he would try to bring you snacks when he knows you’re stuck studying.

You tried really hard not to read into the things he would do for you.

Surely, he’s also held Kenma’s bag while walking him home, right?

He’s memorized his whole team’s schedule; it’s nothing special if he also has yours memorized.

You know that he only brought you lunch today because he had to share half of his when you forgot yours.

All normal friend stuff, right! Right?!

“I met a cute girl the other day,” he said to you absentmindedly one morning before class.

Wait. Your chest shouldn’t feel so tight, should it? Your eyes are swimming, and your head is floating. Every breath feels like lead in your lungs, and you kinda wished the ground would swallow you whole.

“Oh, Really?” you tried to be nonchalant, and hoped he didn’t notice the shakiness in your voice.

He nodded. “Yeah… she’s kinda funny.”

But you were really funny, weren’t you? You were the one that made him laugh like a hyena, made him clutch his stomach and gasp for breath, right?

“Is that so?” your mouth felt like sandpaper, “Why don’t you try taking her out on a date?”

You wish you had never said those words.

You knew the girl he was talking about; you had seen Kuroo approach her in the hallway.

She was your teammate in the track and field club; not one of the fastest, but she was beautiful, kind, friendly, and Kuroo was right – she really was kind of funny.

“You should have told him first, you know,” Kenma had mumbled from next to you once, eyes never leaving his game while yours quickly shot him a glare.

It was just the two of you at the lunch table – Kuroo mumbling an excuse about having plans with another “friend”.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kenma just rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

You spend the next few weeks avoiding him; it was easier since he didn’t sit next to you in class anymore, you weren’t really replying to his texts as often, you stopped visiting him and Kenma at practice, and you had missed the game you had told them you would try to go to.

You were kind of starting to realize that it was mostly you that had to go and seek them out.

Now that you weren’t doing these things… where was he?

You would catch a glimpse of Kuroo when he would visit your teammate during practice; he would try to greet you but you’d only shoot him a tight smile.

So when you heard a loud knock on your door at eight o clock in the evening, the last person you expected was the roosterhead himself.

“Hey,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I could tell something was bothering you, and I’ve been trying to give you your space, but… it’s been weeks now so, I just have to know… Are you avoiding me?”

You didn’t really know what to say, if there is even anything else to. Even with your head down and eyes trained to your feet, you could feel the burn of his gaze.

“I...” the deep timbre of his voice always managed to give you chills, “I miss you.”

Is he fucking serious right now? He’s so smart, yet he can’t put two and two together? He can see his opponents’ moves before they happen, yet he can’t even see you standing right in front of him?

“I have feelings for you, Kuroo,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Kuroo’s eyes widened by a fraction, his mouth slightly hung agape, dumbfounded by your seemingly random confession.

Except, it wasn’t random to you. You’ve been harboring these feelings for months, and after hurting yourself by staying silent for so long, you decided that you deserve better.

You’ll accept whatever the outcome, if that’s the price for your peace.

“Y/N…” it took him a long time to finally speak, and you try to ignore the fact that this is the first time he’s called you by your first name.

His face clearly showed his struggle to get the words out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t… I –“

You raised your hand. You didn’t really want to hear any more than that.

“It’s okay,” you said, giving him a small smile.

And with that, you shut the door on Kuroo Tetsuro.

You do your best to move on, smiling and laughing with friends you wouldn’t usually talk to you, ignoring the ghost of your past that haunt you every time you walked passed by Kuroo and your teammate down the hall.

You throw back a laugh at whatever the person next to you had said, turning away to miss the fact that Kuroo’s eyes always followed you wherever you went.

Graduation day came and in the blink of an eye, your days at Nekoma were behind you.

The days passed, the seasons changed, the flowers bloomed, and then they died.

You started university, moving to a different city and living with the very same best friend whose betrayal to quench her own thirst became the catalyst for your greatest heartbreak.

You’ve forgiven her for that though, you guess.

Life in college was the breath of fresh air that you needed.

New things to learn, new places to discover, and new faces to help you forget the scars of old ones.

Years pass by, and while you’ve allowed yourself to feel the touch of others, allow them to make you laugh, allow them to make you cry, you’ve never really allowed yourself the luxury of falling in love again.

Who has time for that any way?

Definitely not you. You just needed to finish your undergrad, and get into med school.

You had plans for your life, you weren’t going to compromise your dreams just for another person, and no matter whom you dated or how much they liked you, this fact had always rubbed them the wrong way.

You were finally starting your last year at your undergrad, quite possibly one of the most important years of college, what with your thesis, med school applications, and your entire future pretty much on the line, no big deal.

Your first class of the day was chemistry. You had been avoiding the last chemistry class required by your degree, all of your friends telling you that it was one of the hardest classes they’ve ever taken, and so naturally, you ran away for as long as possible.

The class wasn’t due to start for another fifteen minutes when you walked in, giving you a perfect opportunity to grab a seat of your liking.

You ended up choosing one in the third row – you knew that if you sat in the back, you wouldn’t pay attention.

You take out your laptop, books, and all required materials, using this free time to check any emails from your professors.

You were checking the time – 5 minutes left until class started – when you were interrupted.

“L/N-chan?”

Your feel your body stiffen up at the sound of a voice you hadn’t heard in years.

You turn your head to your left, hoping to all the gods that maybe you were mistaken.

“Kuroo?” you said in disbelief, and oh honey… you could not believe he was standing right before you.

Kuroo seemed like he hadn’t changed at all. His hair seemed a little bit more managed, he was a little bit taller, his muscles filled out his shirt better… but he still had the same goofy smile on his face, and that undeniably mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“What are you doing here?” you blurted out. “I thought you went to a university in Tokyo?”

“I did, but I transferred this year,” he said, “This university has a great marketing program.”

“I can’t believe it,” you mumble out, more so to yourself than him, “It’s been years.”

He gave you a smile. “It has.”

He took the seat next to you, much to your surprise. You almost wanted to open your mouth in protest, but what could you say? ‘You can’t sit there’?

You were thankful that the class had only gone over the syllabus, because you didn’t hear a word the professor said.

When you told Eri about it later, she just laughed.

“I always thought Kuroo-san was a nice guy,” she commented, her back turned while she cooked the both of you dinner.

“I never said he wasn’t,” you said, throwing back the rest of the wine in your glass.

“What, you still like him or something?” Eri teased, plating the noodles she had created and setting it in front of you.

“Of course not,” you grumbled, stabbing at the plate with a fork, and the amused look on Eri’s face tells you that her silence was just to placate you.

The next few weeks of the semester went by without any incident.

Kuroo stayed in the seat next to you, and you didn’t let yourself wonder why.

You were proud at yourself for being able to talk to Kuroo the way that you were; he still made the same stupid chemistry jokes in high school, but now you felt like you could laugh at them without choking on the air around you.

It was easy.

Until it wasn’t.

“Alright everyone,” your professor began one rainy morning, “We’re about halfway through the semester, and this is usually around the time I like to assign a little project.”

All of a sudden, you felt a strange feeling of déjà vu.

“Now, it’s only going to be worth about a third of your grade in the class, so I suggest not slacking off on this one. This is going to require a partner, and before you go texting your bestie that you want to ‘link up’, I’ve taken the liberty of assigning your partner for you.”

Oh, Christ. You were praying you wouldn’t get partnered up with a dead weight.

“When I call your name, raise your hand so I could introduce you to your new partner.”

You waited patiently for your name to be called, but Kuroo’s had been called first.

“Kuroo Testuro.”

Kuroo raised his hand.

“Your partner will be... let’s see here… ah, L/N F/N!”

No. No fucking way.

Your arm involuntarily raised, the professor nodding his head in acknowledgement.

You slowly turn to face Kuroo, who had an unreadable smile placed on his lips, your professor’s voice droning on in the background.

“Well,” he said, laughter laced in his words, “Isn’t this familiar?”

At first, you felt incredibly apprehensive at the thought of being partnered with your high school crush, but at the end of the day, you were actually incredibly thankful.

Kuroo was just as smart and diligent as he was back then, and you had every confidence that your project was going to get the highest grade.

You tried to make it a point to meet in public places – cafes, libraries, and the like.

But soon, Kuroo suggested that it would just be easier and more comfortable to meet at either your place or his.

He only ever came by when Eri was home too, which would have been fine if the smirk on her face didn’t make you so nervous.

You noticed that his roommate was always around when you came over as well. You learned his name was Bokuto, and though he was a little loud, his presence was actually a little comforting.

Honestly, it all felt so… nostalgic. Whenever you would finish your work for the day, then the two of you would spend the time talking, catching up, and laughing at stupid jokes, almost as if the two of you were friends again.

Almost like nothing happened between you at all.

“Hey,” you started one day, curiosity getting the better of you after a particularly steamy conversation about past relationships, sitting on the floor with your iPad on your lap and homework strewn about all over the living room floor, “Whatever happened between you and that girl from high school?”

Kuroo just gave you a sad smile, and you thought she must have broken his heart pretty badly.

“Oh that…” he waved it off, “That was a mistake. A big one.”

You figured it was better not to ask any more questions.

Eri walked out of her room soon after Kuroo left that night, her arms crossed and leaning against the door’s archway as she watched you wash the dishes.

You guys are getting pretty close,” she mused.

She couldn’t see you roll your eyes. “Well, yeah, we were pretty good friends in high school.”

Eri let out a humorless laugh. “I stand by my statement that Kuroo-san is a nice guy,” she said, walking up next to you to place a hand on your shoulder, “But I haven’t forgotten how long it took you to get over what happened.”

Your hands stilled in the soapy water for a second, but you chose not to say anything.

“I’m just saying,” Eri started to walk back to her room, calling out her last words behind her shoulder, “Be careful.”

Eri’s words echoed in your head whenever you were with Kuroo.

Every time he offered to pay for your food, you made sure to insist you’d pay for it yourself. If he tried to grab your bag from your shoulder when you walked, you’d hold on tighter and say you were fine.

You didn’t avoid him like you did before, but you made every attempt to keep him at arm’s length.

It seems your attempts were all for nothing, however, when the semester ended.

“Amazing job,” were the words that came from your professor when giving your passing grade.

“We did it,” Kuroo said happily, the two of you making your way out of the class, “It’s finally over.”

“Thank god,” you laughed back.

“Hey,” Kuroo started, though he was looking at everywhere but you, “Bokuto’s gone and visiting his boyfriend for the weekend, but I was wondering if you wanted to come over for drinks later?”

You blinked, trying to even your breathing.

“You know, to celebrate the end of the semester, and acing that nightmare class.”

You should say no, right? Wait, but you’re grown now. You’ve moved on from what happened back then. The two of you did work really hard this semester, what’s wrong with celebrating your achievements?

“I think we’ve earned it,” Kuroo laughed.

“Yeah,” you said, and you were glad for it just from the smile that spread on his stupid face, “We really have! I’ll be there.”

“See you at eight?”

You nodded at his words as he waved goodbye, going your separate ways.

Ten hours later, you were sitting next to Kuroo on his living room floor, sake cup full to the brim as BNHA plays on his TV.

“Ah, Deku’s in the hospital,” Kuroo slurred, sake sloshing out of his cup when he pointed to the screen, “That’s a shot!”

The two of you threw back the warm liquid, and you were kind of worried that it didn’t taste like anything anymore.

“Kuroo,” you laughed, “We’re only on the second episode… and I think I’ve taken, like, twelve shots at this point.”

“This was your idea!”

“Well, I have another idea,” you started to get up, causing Kuroo to get up as well, “Let’s order take out!”

He laughed at your red face, agreeing with you.

You started to make your way to the couch, but all of a sudden, you felt dizzy, a head rush taking over your senses as you stumbled over your feet.

Kuroo caught you before you could hit the floor.

“You okay?” he laughed, and the sound of it elicited a laugh from your own lips.

In a second, the two of you erupted in giggles, snickering at nothing in particular while his strong arms still held you in place.

Suddenly, you were hyperaware of his touch on your skin, and you let your eyes trail from the strong hands around your waist, to the golden honey eyes that were already staring at your face.

You can’t exactly remember how, but the next thing you knew, you were pinned under Kuroo on his bed, his soft lips moving in tandem with yours while his hot tongue took over your whole mouth.

Your arms were looped around his neck, and he slid his calloused hands up your arm.

You felt his hands grip onto your wrists before he pulled them off his necked and pinned them onto the mattress.

You took in a deep breath once he disconnected from your mouth, planting a trail of kisses along your jaw line and down to your neck, before you slid his tongue across your supple skin.

You shivered, acutely aware of the fact that he has you trapped.

“Be careful,” Eri’s words echoed in your mind.

Fuck, you tried to think but it was hard when Kuroo just threw his shirt across the room, hovering over you with chiseled abs and defined muscles.

The heat returned to your body when he lowered his head, and popped a hard nipple into his mouth.

Your body arched at the feel of his teeth grazing against your skin, goosebumps racing when he dipped his hand beneath your underwear, a slender finger gliding down your folds before inserting into you.

You weren’t prepared for the intrusion, and he captured the gasp that came out of your mouth with his lips.

He was now holding down both of your wrists with one hand, never realizing that he was that much bigger than you.

He slid out his finger, bringing it to his mouth to give a long lick, before dipping his hand back down, and pushing in two.

You threw your head back when Kuroo curled his fingers, wondering how the hell he was able to find your g spot so quickly.

You felt like an animal caught in his trap, caged in with your arms pinned down, no choice but to let Kuroo draw out your orgasm while he pumped and curled into you, circling his thumb over your swollen clit.

Your legs were shaking while you screamed out his name, embarrassed that you were cumming so hard when he hasn’t even actually fucked you

He didn’t give you a chance to recover from your orgasm

In one swift movement, Kuroo let go of your hands and pulled out his fingers so he could grab a leg in each hand to fold you over in a press.

You don’t even know when Kuroo had taken his pants – or yours – off, and you didn’t have time to wonder.

A moan escaped your lips at the feel of his length filling you up, and you distinctly hear Kuroo tell you to say his name.

“Kuroo,” you moaned, bringing your hands to his shoulders, grasping at his body.

Every buck of his hips shot a jolt of pleasure throughout your body, unable to escape the feeling with Kuroo holding you down in place.

Who the hell would want to escape from here anyway?

“My first name,” he growled, quickening his pace when he felt your walls tighten around his dick.

“Tetsuro!” you screamed without a second thought, the brutal rhythm Kuroo has set driving heat onto your stomach, repeating his name over and over even after you feel your pussy gushing all over him, your cum dripping down from his shaft to his balls.

“Fuck,” Kuroo growled out, driving into you one last time before he spilled hot white, trying hard to catch his breath while coming down from this high.

The two of you lay together in the darkness for a while, your head on his chest and his arms around his shoulder.

The silence that surrounded the room was comfortable; almost like a bubble of peace that neither of you wanted to pop by saying anything.

“Be careful,” Eri’s fucking voice told you, yet again

While you didn’t regret what had just happened between you and Kuroo, doubts were beginning to creep in your mind.

What the hell was supposed to happen now? You’re not sure if Kuroo was expecting this outcome when he invited you over for drinks, but it happened, and you’re not really sure where to go from here.

You’ve already built a life for yourself – one that was truly yours – and you had a path that you had every intention to follow.

Would Kuroo be like every other guy and run away when he finds out you’re not compromising your plans for him? Would you even want to try to fit him into your plans?

You shake your head.

Jesus, get a grip. A guy dicks you down /once/, and all of a sudden you’re thinking about this shit?

“Y/N? You okay?” He asked from beside you.

You lift your head from his chest, sitting up so you could lean your back against his headboard. Kuroo was quick to mirror your actions.

“Kuroo,” you begin to tell him, and he frowned a little at the sound of his last name, “That was… amazing.”

Kuroo blushed a little at your compliment, though he knew it didn’t stop there. “…But?”

“But,” you bit your lip, “I’m not really looking for anything serious right now.”

Kuroo didn’t respond right away, but maybe that’s because you just kept babbling. “It’s just… I have so much going on with school, not to mention grad school applications are due in a few months, and who knows which university I’ll end up going to after graduation…”

You finally had the courage to look at him, and you caught a glimpse of what you would have thought was sadness in his eyes if it hadn’t been blinked away so quickly, soon replaced with that same unreadable smile.

“Whatever you want, Kitten,” he replied, “This doesn’t have to be anything more than what it is.”

You let out a breath of relief.

He walked you home that night (or morning, considering it was 1am), still trying your best to set boundaries even though you pretty much let him thoroughly wreck you.

He didn’t give you a kiss goodbye, instead sheepishly waving when he sees you entering the door to your apartment, saying he’ll shoot you a text tomorrow.

You thought things would be weird between the two of you after that night, but you were happy to find that it wasn’t.

You had managed to rekindle your friendship with Kuroo – meeting up to study, grabbing lunch if you had the time, maybe catching the occasional movie.

Though, you didn’t tell Eri about the added benefits.

(Kuroo Tetsu-hoe) Today: 12:37AM

You up?

[To: Kuroo Tetsu-hoe] Today: 12:49AM

Yeah, doing my Lit. paper.

(Kuroo Tetsu-hoe) Today: 12:50AM

Wanna do me instead?

[To: Kuroo Tetsu-hoe] Today: 12:58AM

Say less.

ou didn’t have to tell Eri about the added benefits – she wasn’t dumb, where else would her roommate be going in the middle of night?

You’ve had other men before, going through your fair share of sexual experiences before climbing into bed with Kuroo.

But he was still managing to show you new things, reaching spots you never even knew existed before, putting his mouth in places that made your eyes water and lungs burn from gasping for air.

You can’t explain the feeling you get when he’s running his hands across your body, and when he stares at you and nothing but you while he’s pumping into you and making you feel so full in more ways than one, it’s something akin to a chemical reaction.

There was one time, when he took a belt, secured it against his head post before he brought your legs up to –

“Earth to Y/N,” Kuroo said, waving a hand in front of your face.

“Sorry,” you said, shrugging your shoulders, “I was having a flashback.”

Kuroo smirked, knowing exactly what you meant.  

The two of you were lying in bed, your back against his chest and a strong arm wrapped around your waist.

You laid your hand on top of his, fiddling with his fingers and reveling in the calm that always came from being with Kuroo.

“What you thinking about?” You ask, and the way he stiffened up in your grip let you know that something really was bothering him.

It took him a little longer than you’d like before he replied.

“Do you ever feel like… you want more?”

This time, it was you that stilled in his arms.

“Be Careful.”

You turned around to face Kuroo.

“I thought we talked about this?”

Kuroo’s eyes searched your face, for what, you have no idea. But you stared back with just as much intensity, hoping that he would find the answer he was looking for.

Fear. That’s what was written all over your face.

Kuroo let out a humorless laugh. “Forget I said anything.”

He stood up to put his boxers on and slipping on a shirt before heading out onto the balcony that was attached to his room.

You gave him a few moments before getting up to gather your clothes from the floor, silently putting them on before you joined him outside.

You find him leaning against the balcony railing on his forearms, a cigarette lit in one hand.

He doesn’t turn his head towards you, but he does offer his cigarette, and you take it quietly.

You bring the white filter to your lips, taking a deep drag, closing your eyes when you feel your head get lighter, and releasing the smoke from your lungs.

“Kuroo,” you started, voice nothing but a soft whisper, “I’m sorry… I didn’t – “

He raised a hand to stop you.

“It’s fine,” he replied. “Like I said, forget I mentioned anything.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey,” he said, taking his cigarette back from you and taking a drag himself, “Kenma’s having a party this weekend. They’re inviting over some old classmates from Nekoma. He says he misses you. You should come.”

Your ears perk up at the invitation, excited at the thought of seeing your old friend and a little happy that he’s moving past the subject.

"Kenma? Is having a party?”

Kuroo laughed. “Alright. Yaku is having a party, but we’re doing it at Kenma’s place. It’s actually not that far from here, just one train ride.”

You chuckled, shaking your head knowingly.

“Yeah, I’ll go,” you agreed, “But, uhm… I’ll just meet you there?”

Kuroo nodded. “Yeah. I’ll just meet you there.”

You didn’t see Kuroo the rest of that week.

You weren’t sure what it was – he wasn’t ignoring you, he replied to your text messages and answered your calls.

But he hadn’t once asked you to come over. And after what happened that night, you were scared to ask him to come over.

The night of Kenma’s party came, and you entered to find way more people than you had expected. You didn’t recognize more than half of the people there, but relief washed over you when Yaku threw an arm around your shoulder.

You didn’t see Kuroo right away when you arrived, but you were too distracted at the joy from seeing some of your old classmates.

You were half way through a game of beer pong with Lev as your partner before Kuroo was able to make an appearance.

He made his rounds, saying his greetings to everyone before stopping at you, giving you a friendly one armed hug.

You didn’t want to admit that you were a bit sad at the generic greeting.

Was it because maybe… you want…. mor –

“Y/N! Shoot the damn ping pong ball,” Lev exclaimed, and you were shook out of your reverie. 

Kuroo excused himself, saying he was going to the kitchen to make himself a drink, but you were too focused on winning your game to notice.

Before you knew it, you lost three to two against Kenma and Yamamoto, cursing at Lev for forcing you to carry the team on your back.

By this point, the alcohol had spread all through your system. You were still able to walk straight, but with considerable effort. The words that came out of your mouth were just a little slurred, and you were kind of having a hard time controlling the volume of your voice.

“Where’s Kuroo?” you asked Yaku, who instantly shot a hand up to rub his ear.

“Jesus, woman, you don’t have to yell, I am /right here,” he grumbled, but he still let you sling an arm around his shoulders for support. “I thought he went into the kitchen to get some drinks?”

That’s right, he said that. But that was hours ago. Where could he be?

You stagger away from Yaku, pushing your way past unfamiliar bodies to get to the kitchen.

The first thing you saw when you tripped into the kitchen was Kuroo, dressed in a fitted black shirt and blue jeans, looking every bit the Greek God he was as he leaned against the counter. His arms were crossed atop his broad chest, a drink in one hand.

He was talking to someone, and you thought you recognized the long black hair that flowed from the back of their head, but were too distracted studying the veins that protruded from Kuroo’s forearms.

You opened your mouth to call out to him when the person in front of him stepped up, pressing their body into his. She uncrossed his arms and snaked two long arms around his neck.

You recognized her in that instant.

It was his ex from high school.

Looking down, you were surprised to see your clothes dry, because it felt like someone poured a bucket of ice water directly on top of your head.

“Be careful,” Eri’s words echoed in your head for the ten millionth time.

Yet here you were

In the same exact place you were a little over three years ago.

You scoffed at yourself.

Well, there’s nothing else for you here now, is there?

You shoot Yaku and Kenma a quick text in a group chat to let them know you were leaving.

The air outside was cold, your breath coming out in puffs. You wrapped your jacket around a little tighter, cursing yourself silently for not wearing a scarf cause it’ll ‘ruin the outfit.’

“Hey, the party’s that way.”

The sudden voice behind you nearly made you jump ten feet in the air.

“Jesus, you really are like a fucking cat.”

Kuroo chuckled.

For some reason, the sound made you angry. You kept walking, following the path of dimmed street lights that led you to the train station.

“Yeah, but home’s this way.”

His heavy footsteps trailed behind you.

“Great, I was getting tired of the party anyway.”

“What are you doing here?” You finally turned your head to him and asked.

Your voice was surprisingly clear and even, despite the unsteadiness of the ground beneath you.

“What do you mean? I’m walking you home.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s late, and you’re my friend.”

‘Friend’. The word made you wince, even though you were the one that drilled the idea into his head.

“I saw you talking to your ex,” you grumbled, crossing your arms and turning the other direction.

You could practically feel his smirk.

“Oya? Is that jealousy I’m hearing in those words?”

You felt your face get hot.

“Of course not!”

- “I thought we were just friends?”

“Will you shut up for once in your life, idiot!”

He wanted to tease you some more, but was stopped by the pensive look on your face.

“Why would you leave the girl that broke your heart behind just to walk me home?”

Kuroo looked at you with a confused expression.

“Girl that broke my heart?”

You nodded. “When I asked you about her, you said she was a big mistake.”

Kuroo stopped walking. You turned your head back to look at him curiously when he doubled over in a full bellied laugh.

“Are you laughing at me?!” You asked incredulously, giving him a glare from where you stood.

“You... you think she’s the one that broke my heart?”

Kuroo wiped a fake tear from his eye.

“Wow. That was a good one.”

“What the hell are you going on about, Kuroo?”

The jovial look on Kuroo’s face slowly faded, the entertained smile on his face shrinking his lips into a thin line.

“Y/N, she didn’t break my heart.”

Now it was your turn to be confused.

“You want to know why I said she was a big mistake?” Kuroo took a step towards you, “It was because of her that I lost you.”

Your jaw dropped.

Kuroo ran his fingers through his hair, ruining the perfectly waxed locks that he had spent thirty minutes styling.

“Please don’t run away when I tell you this.”

You couldn’t move your feet even if you wanted to.

“The only reason I ever brought her up to you in the first place was because I wanted to see your reaction. I wanted to know if you would get jealous. But without hesitation, you told me that I should just go ahead and date her, and you know dumb young men and their pride... then... it just... snowballed into something I didn’t even...”

Kuroo couldn’t finish his sentence.

Your vision begins to shake.

“But... but I confessed to you!”

“Yeah, then you slammed the door in my face and stopped talking to me!”

You couldn’t deny that.

“Do you have any idea how confusing that was for a teenage boy? I had no idea what the hell was going on, one day, I blinked and I was stuck with a girl I didn’t love while I watched my best friend smile and laugh and walk passed me like I never even existed.”

You swallowed the guilty lump that was caught in your throat.

“All I knew was that you weren’t around anymore; you weren’t there to make me laugh with your dumb jokes, you weren’t coming over and leaving your presence all over my room, nothing, it was all gone, and it all felt so fucked up. Being without you felt so fucked up.” 

Had Kuroo always felt this way? Were you really so busy running away from him that you couldn’t even see that he was hurting too?

“Now the universe or the gods or whatever brought me back to you, and it’s like everything makes sense again, and fuck, all I want to do is just show you how much I’ve missed you, how much I care, how much I love you.”

You gasped, and you were waiting for Kuroo to try and take those words back, but the resolve was painted in his eyes.

“But all you do is just keep me at arms length. You wanted to be just friends when I wanted everything.”

You choked back a sob, tears were now steadily streaming down your face.

Kuroo closed the space between you, wrapping one arm around your waist while bring his other head to wipe at your tears with the pad of his thumb.

 “She wasn’t the girl that broke my heart. You were.”

He moved to place his fingers on your chin, tilting your head up to force you to look at his eyes.

He wanted you to see that he meant every single word.

“If this is all you’re willing to give me, I’ll take it. I’ll break my own heart. Every day, over and over again, if that’s what it takes to be with you.”

His voice was in a whisper now, bringing his lips to kiss both sides of your cheeks.

“Because I love you.”

He brought his hands to cup for your face before pulling you in for a kiss.

This wasn’t anything like you’ve ever experienced before.

Every time his tongue brushed against yours, you felt all the love adoration he was trying to convey in this one physical act, hoping he could transfer it all into your lips.

It felt like time stopped just for the two of you, to have this moment in the middle of the sidewalk, bathed in the orange glow of the street light that hung above you.

He pulled away finally, resting his forehead on yours for just a second before he engulfed you with his arms.

His head rested on top of yours, feeling the vibrations as he spoke.

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he said nervously. “Do you want something more?”

You wiggle out of his grip just so you can move your hands up to caress his cheek.

“Tetsuro... I love you so much.”

Later that night, in the safety of your room and away from Eri’s judgmental eyes at the two of you stumbling in and giggling through the door, you trace small circles on Kuroo’s chest with your fingers while Kuroo had an arm wrapped around you tightly.

“Hey, Tetsu,” you broke the silence with a whisper, “What if I end up going to grad school that was... further away?”

Kuroo couldn’t help but smile and shake his head. You were never going to change.

Not like he would ever want you to.

“Y/N... we didn’t talk for three years, and not once did I stop thinking about you. A little distance isn’t going to get rid of me.”

You try to bury your face in embarrassment.

If he had to spend every day of the rest of his life reassuring you that he’ll be by your side no matter what, well - that’s just too easy.

You find yourself holding onto him a little bit tighter, making a silent vow that never again were you going to push away Kuroo Tetsuro.

[ladyeliot]

Aftermath

Request: This is a request that @mycosmicparadise​ asked me for a long time ago. Sorry, sweetie.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger Female Reader

Summary: After the events in New York, the team reunites to carry out the mission to get Loki's scepter, but things go wrong and your mission changes completely, now you have to go after Ultron, but you find yourself unable to keep your powers under control.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of abuse. 

Word count: 3972

A/N: Avengers Age of Ultron. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Reader's powers: She is a powerful empath, as she can sense and manipulate other people's emotions. Proficient unarmed combatant.

Hydra, Research Base, Eastern Europe.

You felt like your insides were full of hate and rage, every person you met through the thick forest, the only thing they felt when they saw you was dislike, mixed with the anger of wanting to get rid of you. Your powers worked because you kept your own emotions under control, but it was a constant struggle, as you used to feel inside you the emotions that others possessed and that made your insides filled with every negative emotion.

"Shit!" you heard Tony through the relay you had inserted in the back of your ear.

"Language!" Steve instantly rebutted him.

You held your position through the thick forest of Sokovia, Hydra's base was on top of a mountain, or rather it was the mountain itself, for around it they had built a rather impenetrable base that you wanted to access in order to get the Sceptre that you were unable to take from Loki at the time. Numerous clearly trained soldiers were trying to stop you in your tracks. Jarvis had informed you that the building was protected by an energy shield, which was against you as it was the most advanced technology you had seen in any Hydra base of operations.

"Loki's sceptre must be in there," Thor announced, as you guarded one of those soldiers under your body rendering him completely unconscious. "They couldn't have those defences without it."

You ran across the field trying to close the gap with Natasha, who was a few metres ahead of you, Clint following.

"Okay," you said staring at one of your targets and getting him to lower his gun to tackle him, "so what do we do?"

"Wait a second," Tony interjected. "No one else is going to deal with the fact that Cap just said "language?"

"I know," Steve replied, making your eyes roll at the distraction they were causing in the middle of the mission.

The graze of bullets was almost audible through your body, it seemed to go on forever, you had been going on for hours and all you could manage to do was run into more troops sent by Hydra to hold you in that quadrant of the forest. Natasha was trying to get rid of two guys who had tackled her, you turned to her and stared at one of them but just as you were about to make the mental connection something that you barely noticed made you fall to the ground.

"What the hell?" you exclaimed getting up again and looking around you hoping to find the cause of it.

"We've got an upgrade," Steve informed you.

"Wait, you don't call her 'language'?" Tony complained at the situation. "Okay, I'll tell her. Language!"

At that instant a muffled shout from Clint sounded behind you.

"Clint!" Natasha had effectively freed herself from the two henchmen and you both headed towards Clint, who had been shot from a bunker. "Clint's hurt. Can someone take care of that bunker?"

As if Natasha's words were an order, Hulk appeared out of nowhere to overwhelm the small building and the soldiers inside. You stood up and turned your full attention to your surroundings while Nat continued to perform the necessary treatment to alleviate the blow that your companion had received.

"Clint is in bad shape, he needs to be evacuated," Nat reported over the transmitter, as Thor and the Captain instantly landed next to you. "I can take Barton to the Quinjet," Thor replied and focused his gaze on Steve. "The sooner we leave the better.

"Copy that," Steve replied for both of you, but at that moment he noticed your face.

"Roger that," Steve replied for both of you, but at that moment he noticed your face. "Are you all right?"

You nodded, returning to an introspective position beside Natasha.

On the ride home, silence flooded the Quinjet more than ever, the mission had finally succeeded but it wasn't really in the air, it wasn't felt inside any of you, even though Stark had proposed a victory party.

The following days nothing had gone as planned, the analysis of the sceptre that Stark and Banner had carried out, more than an analysis it was a reconfiguration of a network of neurons that they had found, in order to create an artificial intelligence. Artificial intelligence that they used in Stark's secret 'peacekeeping' programme called Ultron, designed to allow the Iron Legion to operate independently. That brought some trouble, when at the end of the Party he showed up to personally attack you, well rather, the whole of humanity, as Ultron thinks the best way to save Earth is to eradicate humanity, he might be partly right.

"Ultron is gone," Banner's voice echoed within the four walls of the lab, "he has used the internet as an escape route."

"Ultron," you whispered to yourself, as one hand covered your face thoroughly.

"He's been all over. Files, surveillance," Natasha explained. "He knows more about us than we know about each other."

As the conversation continued to escalate, emotional energies radiated through the atmosphere, and you picked up on every one of them. Negativity, gathered together with worry, confusion and concern took over your body, you still felt a resentment from the attack you experienced three days ago in Sokovia, which managed to heighten each of the sensations. You closed your eyes as you hid your face with one hand and the other voices became ominous, frustrating your senses. Natasha was the only person who seemed to notice your situation, stopping the voices with a "guys", but just as they stopped, a small laugh from a completely distracted Tony typing on the computer made you burst.

"You think that's funny?" the hand hiding your face disappeared to give way to hard features and a raised, gruff tone of voice, Tony turned and looked at you a little quizzically, but you could see a hidden smile.

"No," he said indifferently. "It probably isn't, is it? This is terrible, it's so..." again his laughter tackled him, causing you to be completely confused and your frustration to grow. "I know. It's so terrible."

"It's just as terrible that you're taunting all of us right now with your fucking arrogance," you said approaching him.

"No," his tone unlike yours seemed pleasant and friendly, "It really is funny, just like it's funny that you don't understand why we need him," Tony closed the distance with you, positioning the two of you in the middle of the lab, his voice had completely changed it was just as gruff as yours.

"Tony, maybe this isn't the time," Bruce interjected in a melodic tone.

"So, a killer robot was what we needed?" you reproached, lifting your chin to position yourself against his height. "The shield that was supposed to free us from alien threats frees us by wiping out all of humanity, yeah, really brilliant."

"Remember I put a nuke through a wormhole?" he rebuked you, recalling for the umpteenth time that night the event in New York. "Tell me, how did you plan to win that? What was your damned solution to get rid of that damned hostile alien army that came through that wormhole in space?"

"Together," Steve interjected quickly, causing Tony to look away from you and back at Steve.

You made the air rush into your lungs offering you some relaxation, instigating your mind to let positive memories come to you. Your differences with Tony were known, your understanding of his views was limited, a fact that generated the occasional verbal conflict between the two of you, let's just say you couldn't stand each other more than you deserved.

The night was long, mostly because there was hardly any rest after planning what you were going to do to stop Ultron, which led you to South Africa.

"She should stay," Nat's whisper reached your ears. "The mission in Sokovia has left her with  aftermath she has yet to overcome."

"Oh, last night was a aftermath?" Tony from the pilot's seat added to the conversation. "Nice."

"You know I'm here and I can hear you?" you asked without opening your eyes from your seat. "I'm coming down, worry about you guys that..."

"Okay, listen," Tony stood up from the command post. "I may regret saying this but I agree with her. I think you should stay here with Banner. Keep you two company. Get to know each other better. You know."

"Why don't you stay here, Tony, and get to know Banner better?" you opened your eyes and looked at Tony, but thought for a second. "Well, I'd better not, lest you get the bright idea to create Ultron's sister."

"He's an only child," Tony countered your irony.

"The roles are split," you added as a definitive point. "I'll take the girl, you take Ultron."

From a mountain fortress to a ship in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. You entered its interior, a quite feasible target, when in fact what you all feared lay within. Darkness fell over your pupils, the smell of dampness professed in every corner.

"You're with me, aftermath," reported a voice from behind a suit of armour. "Stay sharp, this guy is made by me."

The long corridors soon took you deep into the heart of the ship, they were as eager to run into you as you were to run into them, so it was only a couple of minutes before you were reunited in a vast maze of iron catwalks.

"Stark is a sickness!" exclaimed that robot called Ultron.

"Ahh, Junior," Tony posed in front of him and his two enhanced companions, "You're gonna break your old man's heart."

From that moment on things happened too fast for a clear description to be made. The corridors seemed to lengthen as you tried to keep that enhanced girl, Wanda, away from the others. She was powerful, trying to play with your mind and you with hers. It was a battle of mental endurance, if you could keep your mind blank and safe from all the negative things she was trying to make you see, you could keep going. It seemed doable, you seemed to have it under control, you had freed yourself from the transmitter that kept you in contact with the others to avoid any external distractions, but none of that was enough when a new enhancement came into play making you lose your balance completely, you felt the emptiness flooding you, as if your body was falling unchecked into the darkness.

A halo of light circled over your eyes making you recognise what was around you, you had escaped, you had fled from that ship thousands of miles in space and time. A figure that you recognised instantly was in front of you, smiling at you, raising her hand to caress your face, it was the figure of your mother, she was laughing, but with each laugh the atmosphere became darker. The main living room of your house appeared before your eyes, but it seemed totally neglected, the furniture was worn out, there was dust and mould in every corner, your mother was prostrate on the floor and a figure without a face was on top of her beating her, you heard the screams of a little girl, they were quite familiar, they were yours. That scene began to repeat itself over and over again, reliving your childhood, you fought to try to change it, but you had no control over it or over your mind at that moment, time after time the pain invaded you and although you tried to stop it, it became impossible again. You had entered a loop, you had lost track of time and space, you couldn't run away from it. Your own mind had become part of it.

Your ears only picked up your screams and those of your mother, you kept your eyes open but your vision was not able to see, you fell to your knees wherever you were in reality and you stayed there, until someone managed to locate you.

"I got her," as a faint whisper drifted into the scene you were living. "Okay. You're safe, I've got you."

As if you were again falling into the void your body rose into the air, and the darkness once again hovered over you, causing all your limbs and your brain to go into a deep, eternal sleep.

Without really knowing where you were, you could hear a faint hissing sound that came more and more strongly to your senses. Light broke through your eyelids, which were struggling against their will to open. Familiarity with the space made you realise where you were. The whistling sound was coming from the air hitting the Quinjet, for all was silent inside. You sat up slowly, the mental pain was suffocating, not only because of what you had seen and what you had been through, but because you could feel the same sensations all around you.

You sat up, covering your face with your hands and hiding it between your legs trying to pull yourself together, but at that moment you felt someone kneel down right in front of you and put a hand on the back of your neck.

"What can I do?" Tony's voice sounded cautious, but there was really little he could do in those few square metres of anguish, so you just shook your head. "Okay, look at me," you shook your head again not wanting to have direct access to any more emotions at the moment, "Look at me. Please."

Your breathing was rapid and your heart kept shrinking, causing a lump in your throat that almost prevented you from breathing. You couldn't extract everything you had inside you, nor could you find the calm you needed to let him go, you were afraid to look at him to interfere with his feelings and manipulate them by offering him yours, you were also afraid of acquiring his negative emotions and adding them to your own. But still you felt his hand go to your chin and he gently lifted it up to catch your face in his gaze.

"In a couple of hours we'll be in a shelter," his face was close, his fingers held firmly on your chin. "Do you think you'll be okay?"

A subtle nod is what you offered in reply, Tony nodded as well and took a seat right next to you after having moved closer to Barton. 

Your breathing was rapid and your heart kept shrinking, causing a lump in your throat that almost prevented you from breathing. You couldn't extract everything you had inside you, nor could you find the calm you needed to let him go, you were afraid to look at him to interfere with his feelings and manipulate them by offering him yours, you were also afraid of acquiring his negative emotions and adding them to your own. But still you felt his hand go to your chin and he gently lifted it up to catch your face in his gaze.

"In a couple of hours we'll be in a shelter," his face was close, his fingers held firmly on your chin. "Do you think you'll be okay?"

A subtle nod is what you offered in reply, Tony nodded as well and took a seat right next to you after having moved closer to Barton. Those two hours seemed endless, you kept your hands pressed to your temple trying to forget what you had seen, but more so what you had felt. Tony, along with Barton were the only ones who had not suffered the effects of Wanda Maximoff's mind control on you on that occasion, it was evident from the physical and mental state of the other teammates.

Tony stayed by your side for the entire 120 minutes, worried and afraid that everything that had happened was his fault, and it was all coming back to you.

"Stop," you whispered trying to get Tony's attention.

"How?" he whispered and bent his face closer to yours, which was resting on your hands.

"Stop flogging yourself, I've had enough of the others," you pleaded a little rudely, unable to control yourself.

"I'm sorry," he placed his palm on your back, but an uncomfortable gesture from your shoulder caused him to remove it a second later. "I'm sorry."

A couple of hours later, the Quinjet took up position on a large greenish esplanade, the greenest thing your eyes had ever seen in your life. In the centre was a small cottage, cosy enough for anyone to see. Tony held you firmly, as it seemed that your body would fall if he let go. You went inside together, a hospitable warmth surrounded each of your limbs causing you to get some peace in you after hours.

Time seemed to have taken its toll on your senses, as you barely understood half of what was being said around you. But everything changed when two children entered, bringing joy and life to the room, it was the most comforting thing you had felt in weeks, the innocence that each of them possessed was like a breath of fresh air to you. You gently removed your arm from Tony's shoulders, murmuring "I'm feeling better," and he returned an "Okay" with a still worried look on his face. Actually Barton's idea of taking you there had been really successful for all of you, except for Thor who left, but for the rest of you it was something you'd never been able to contemplate in your lives, kind of like what it would be like to have a family.

Sunset was near and the view from that wooden porch surrounding the house was charmingly soothing.

"You look good," Tony appeared behind you with his hands in his pockets and perched next to you, leaning on the railing.

"Thank you," you said, looking back up at the grove of trees that loomed before your eyes. "And thanks for earlier."

" For what?" he asked with confusion in his voice.

"When you tried to reassure me on the Quinjet," you said without looking at him. "And... I think it was also you who took me back."

"Yep," Tony put his hand to the back of his neck and turned to you. "The truth is, that process would have been a lot more feasible if you hadn't gotten rid of the transmitter, it would have saved me a lot of time."

"I know," you ducked your face, but a small smile appeared on it.

"Do you want to talk?" Tony's voice seemed somewhat hesitant after stating the question.

"No," you shook your face, letting the last rays of sunlight fall on him. "Do you want to talk?"

"What do you feel?" he answered your question with another question, ignoring it completely. "What do you feel inside when you feel us?"

"I feel what other people are feeling," you explained, looking at him for the first time. "If I concentrate I can feel what you're feeling right now, or what Steve is feeling, or how the Hulk feels when he turns."

"How?"

That conversation you'd had on several occasions in your life, but at no point had you had it with Tony, you hadn't been close at any point, closeness you could find in Natasha or even Steve, but not in Tony, that's why that moment was peculiar, as well as comforting.

"It's easy when my emotions are in control," you turned your body towards him and leaned against the wooden railing. "I just have to look at my target and focus on how he feels, knowing that whatever is inside him I'm going to feel it too," you focused your gaze on Tony's eyes, "for instance, right now you're remorseful about what happened with Ultron, but you also feel misunderstood because no one understands your point of view, you're also melancholy about being in this place, a little envious about discovering the life that Barton has, and..." you paused slightly as you discovered one of his feelings, but you chose to ignore it, as he seemed to be really nervous about the process of analysis he was undergoing, "embarrassed because right now I'm feeling the same way you are.”

You offered him a slight smile, which he himself returned a little nervously at the exposition you had offered him, Tony was a very rigorous person when expressing himself and this had completely thrown him off.

"That..." he put one hand nervously to the back of his neck while the other was hidden in his trouser pocket. "Great, I guess it's nice to know I'm not empty. But well, we'd better keep this between us."

"Of course," for the first time you felt a little satisfied with your task just done, it was nice to see that this person could shed his pride on several occasions.

"Well, I'd better go and help Rogers chop wood," he said, standing up beside you and scratching the bridge of his nose.

" Yes, he certainly looks like he could use your help," you commented wryly as Steve had little difficulty chopping wood in one fell swoop.

"Yeah," he shoved his hands in his pockets and slipped out of the place as quickly as possible.

Within a minute you could feel him perch next to you again, leaning his body on the railing and looking at you.

"That's all you found?" he asked with a frown and gesturing nimbly with his hand, a gesture that denoted nervousness. "I mean, there was nothing else."

"What do you mean?" you frowned as he did, looking completely puzzled, since you already knew what he meant.

"Well..." he scratched the back of his neck again, "Do you usually do this to me? I mean, have you ever gone inside my head before to see how I'm feeling or have you only done it this once? Is it usual?"

"Do you really think I want to know what you keep in your head Tony?" you asked holding back a laugh at his reaction.

"Okay," he gave a long nod biting the inside of his lip. "And there was nothing else you said?"

"Do you want me to try again? Maybe I can find something else," you offered humbly, knowing what he wanted.

"No, it's... all right," his words were accompanied with a step back, putting distance between you and him. "It's all right. I'm... going to go help Cap."

"Okay," you bit your lower lip as you watched him disappear behind you again. behind you again.

You watched as Tony walked over to Steve's pile of firewood and picked up an axe to imitate his movements. You remained in your position, keeping your gaze lost in that grove of trees that made you feel so calm, but it was very easy to catch Tony's gaze watching you from his position. He knew that you had felt it, because perhaps it was one of the emotions that was strongest inside him at that moment, but evidently you didn't want to expose it out loud, and let him know that you had discovered it. Yet there it was, and it was going to take you too long to forget that feeling, because it felt too good to let it go.

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