#only spent... less than 20 bucks for it too

[dlamp-dictator]

My luck wins out once again~

[4rticbolt]

Card DECLINED |Master-List|

Monster Trio+Law x Reader, crack, fluff, modern-au, everyone’s poor.

!Established-Relationship!

Summary: They take you on a date, and their card declines. Head-cannons/Drabble. A/N: Rewritten version! I may or may not have been satisfied with the original—so here you go >:). Word Count: 1,465 words - 364 each

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Luffy

* All of his money? 100% spent on fast-food. He holds a Guinness World Record for the most food eaten—period.

* You’re date’s most likely in a thrift store, having a competition to see who could find the coolest thing. Naturally, Luffy found an item that wasn’t even for sale… and you found something weirdly cheap.

* So, as you placed your trinket of the counter—he offered to pay. Which of course backfired.

“Oh, here—wait! I’ll get that for you.”

“Are you sure? It’s only a few bucks Luffy, I don’t mind.”

“Nope! I pay. My treat.”

* As soon as he checked the card—it didn’t go through. He was incredibly confused, jamming it back in atleast another 20 times.

* “Hey, why’s it not working?! Mr—I think your machines broken!”

* “No… sir, that’s your card. It says insufficient funds...”

* “Huh?”

* It’ll take a moment. Let him process.

* But as soon as it does, he’d apologize and laugh it off. A tad embarrassed, a little pink—but more blaming his card than anything.

* He’d judge it to bits, laughing casually as he slammed it back in his shabby wallet.

* “…Thanks a lot, I was supposed to make a good impression!”

* (As if it was the cards fault. Much less a 10 dollar ring.)

* You’d pay, and he’d go about your date like nothing happened. Which consisted of walking around town, meeting up with friends—getting into trouble, yk— the normal.

* But when you’re distracted—walking up ahead, he’d hit Nami up for a quick Venmo. Which she’d automatically decline.

* So, finding a few crumpled bucks on the ground, he substituted it for something very… Luffy.

* He dragged you into another random store, sneaking off to find something while you were left to your devices.

* Luff ended up getting a cute little hot wheels for free, of course out of pity from the cashier. (Which he was oblivious to.)

* “Is this for your girl?”

* “Shishi, yep! She’s awesome, I just wanted to get her something.”

* (Initiate awkward pause.)

* “Uh-huh.” the cashier slides it back, plopping it in his hand. “For free.”

* “Wait—really?? You’re awesome—thanks, I owe you!”

* “Oh, it’s fine. Just a few bucks.”

* (Money doesn’t have meaning to Luffy. Only actions, kindness, and food.)

* Later, walking you home, he giddily hugged from behind, kissing your cheek with glowing excitement.

* "Here, look at what I got it! Awesome right?”

* “Aww… wait, it’s actually kinda cute.”

* You ended up putting it on your shelf to cherish it.

Zoro:

* Sake and horrible money management was his downfall. He’s minimalistic, but his alcohol sure wasn’t.

* Regardless, you’d think Zoro’s love for booze was a turn off, but he was a responsible drinker and never put you in danger.

* Besides, he didn’t get drunk easy. And on rare occasions he’d ease up into your arms.

* On his date, he’d had taken you out for drinks, and for the first time in awhile he actually paid… though it didn’t go through.

* Much like Luffy—he’d try again, not confused, but out of sheer will it’d work. When the bartender told him there were “insufficient funds,” he’d be in denial, blushing beet red.

* “I don't know what you're talking about, it's gotta be your damn machine..."

* Nope. Not slick. Not at all.

* Royally, he knew he’d fucked up. Because what kinda guy doesn’t pay for the drinks on a date—HE invited them too?!’

* With a casual shrug, you passed the money over—dousing his worries.

* “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

* Yeah. Zoro knew why he liked you. He was relieved, and ever so grateful—he just didn’t know how to show it.

* “Oi, You didn't have to do that..."

* “I really did, what else were you gonna pay with?”

* An hour or so later, he’d drove you safely home, and the whole thing had been forgotten about. Which was much preferred.

* Zoro wouldn’t pay you back immediately, but when he did… It was in his own sweet chaotic way.

* After work, he’d stopped by your house with dinner. However, you’d just gotten out of the shower in a towel—making him even more flustered.

* (Zoro never did well with thanks.)

* “Hey uh, hi…” his stifled a cough, eyes trailing.

* “Zoro—woah! Hello! What are you doing here?”

* “Yeah—sorry. I know. I didn’t call. I just thought I’d just drop by with dinner, Sanji made extra. And I know you like his cooking.”

* “Oh—that’s… really sweet. Actually, thank you. Would you like to come in? Here, let me just go get dressed—“

* (For the rest of that night, Zoro couldn’t get that image of you out of his mind. Under his calm demeanor, he was worked up more than he’d admit.)

Sanji:

* I physically cannot see this man's card declining, so he’d probably used the wrong one...

* Anyway—for the sake of this head-cannon: he’d taken you out to dinner, enjoying a romantic ocean view… and when it happened. Oh. It happened.

* His freak out would be subtle, but there would be signs. He’d be subconsciously tapping his arm, mind blank with anxiety as the waiter told him it wouldn’t go through.

* “I’m sorry, what?” (He’d be in definite denial.)

* However, as soon as you offered to pay—he’d shut it down. Sanji wouldn’t dare let you pay for this, let alone a dinner he’d taken you too. He spoiled you like no other—so forget asking.

* “No—no, it’s alright sweetheart. I have everything handled.”

* (He didn’t, but he’ll act like he does.)

* Sanji believes in women putting their feet up, so he’d rather search the floors for pennies.

* However, after some reassurance and his inability to pay, he’d give in.

* “Sanji, it’s okay. If it means that much to you, you can just pay me back. Don’t worry.”

* He would worry, and he’d pay you back extra. From bouquets, to chocolates, and a home-made fancy dinner—hed go overboard.

* (But when does he not?)

* You’d would think it was overkill—as it was. But to him, that kinda thing is something he’d do on a daily basis. Any sliver of kindness given, he’d soak up like a sponge and reciprocat it tenfold.

* He was a believer of princess treatment.

* “Mon Amour, thank you for the other night. And thank you for joining me for dinner, it meant the world.“

* “I am so very lucky to have you, Mon chéri—here, I got you these…”

* (Cue the nosy neighbor watching him kneel in-front of you like he’s proposing.)

* Newsflash, he’s not. He just has a big heart.

* “Oh—Sanji, thank you… this is uh—a lot. Not complaining, I love it, I just—I wasn’t expecting you tonight—“

* (You’d be momentarily stunned, because what kinda guy does this? You’re not complaining, but you’re definitely cautious.)

Law:

* Law’s a somewhat responsible colledge student who’s learning to be a surgeon, so this? Would be detrimental to his ego and dignity.

* This happened once, and only once. NEVER again.

* He’s a total fanboy, and is a sucker for action figures + comics and mangas—which isn’t cheap. So… you can assume where this is going.

* It was the end of semester, and he took you out to lunch unaware of the tuition fees that clashed with a figurine he bought.

* He took you out for lunch, finally having some free time, but realizing too late what had happened.

* The waiter had handed him back his card and he stilled, before telling them to try it again. It didn’t make a difference, and the chick told him flat out he needed a different form of payment…

* Law would loathe the moment, feeling second-hand embarrassment for miles.

* However, as you overheard and offered to pay—just happy to be there with him… his expression darkened. Broodingly.

“It’s alright. I have cash.” Law’s voice was strained, grumbling. Wishing it happened any other time than this.

* He would pay, and you would would up going to his house to hang out; binge watching horror movies… which he was strangely interested in.

* Yet you were absolutely terrified of, much to his amusement. He cracked a smile watching you hide in his shoulder as the movie progressed, too afraid of the rising tension.

* (You ended up watching some stupid cartoon to the brighten the night)

* Ultimately, Law would forever remember that date, watching his guilty spending habits with a sour expression.

* The possibility of that happening again kept him up at night.

* It would stick with him, but what lingered more was your unhesitant reaction. He hadn’t seen you that happy in awhile, even something as simple at lunch.

* As you lay in his arms, his mind would travel over these things—tenderly brushing your hair back.

* Yes, he was a busy person, but he could always make time. Every minute with you mattered, and he missed you just as much in moments like these.

[lillaydee]

Shhh!!! Part 4

Celebrity!Joel Miller / F Reader

A reluctant celebrity contractor who has closed his heart for love meets a celebrity-hating Cafe on Wheels owner...

She HATES him. Thing is, he couldn't get enough of the coffee she makes...

Tag List:

@kirsteng42 @peelieblue @harriedandharassed @joelalorian @vickie5446 @inept-the-magnificent @maried01 @brittmb115 @peedrow @lovefreylove

Let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the tag list.

Dividers by the awesome @saradika

Header by Moi cause I learned how to use Canva! Yay me!

WARNINGS: Grumpy Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Celebrity Joel Miller, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, I'm Bad At Tagging, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy.

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 3

***I'm not a Barista, and I do not live in the US, much less LA. So please excuse any mistakes i might make regarding coffee and its prices yeah?***

“Okay. Work… please work…” Joel mumbled to himself, rubbing his hands together, the lack of caffeine for the past two days not exactly helping. He was standing in his kitchen, facing the 20 odd years old coffee machine he had just spent two whole days fixing. The repair this time around took a bit longer than the previous attempts, his fingers were a bit shaky. Not because of caffeine withdrawal or anything. Those damned parts were too fucking small and fiddly. His fingers were too big. They’d obviously gotten way bigger than they were the last time he fixed the machine. Fingers do that after six months, right?

To top it all off he didn’t exactly sleep well these past three nights. Tossed and turned for no reason whatsoever. His mind kept replaying the fact that you somehow managed to be so sweet to that annoying girl and then turned around and raged at him like that. He went there to apologize, to tell you he was sorry, and instead, he was met with hostility. Okay, he did bark at you, yet again, but he was pushed into it. That damned annoying girl, the grumpy guy, damn Tommy. He did nothing wrong. And what did he get for trying to be nice? You charged him 40 bucks for coffee, your sweet, smiley face darkened for his displeasure.

That, and the fact that he was in deep shit with Ellie, and somehow, Sarah too.

He went to pick her up the evening of the robbery, relieved to have the paperwork for the season over and done with, looking forward to relax and spend more time with Ellie, only to find her already waiting for him in the parking lot, face like thunder. Turned out grumpy guy from that morning was the TA in her class, and he had gleefully told the class that Lily had given pompous, self-important, ‘I’m a celebrity I get to cut the line’ Joel Miller exactly what he deserved after he barked at her for trying to give him a free cup of coffee, and then had the gall to be all appalled when she overcharged his millionaire, entitled ass.

Joel couldn’t get a word in edgewise to defend himself, Ellie was furious that he had, yet again, embarrassed her by being rude to ‘sweet, wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly Lily’ who was kind enough to hire her. He’d had it then. He wasn’t an idiot. He googled the price of a shot of espresso that morning, unable to believe they would cost that much. They were less than two dollars a shot, and that was at really fancy, high-end cafés, even in an expensive city like LA. There were places that sell them for less than a dollar a shot. You had not only offensively overcharged him for each shot, but you also made it very clear that you hated him, and for that, he had to pay you an extra ten bucks for your troubles.

He was angry at you, really angry. You charged him that much money simply because he was a celebrity. That’s discrimination, plain and simple. He couldn’t see you doing that to some rude, homeless dude. You took advantage of the fact that he had money.

But try as he might, he couldn’t deny the fact that he had contributed to this hatred of yours. He was rude to you. Twice. So, he rationalized your anger and robbery as a spur of the moment retaliation, and he was ready to let it go. But when Ellie came in hulking about his treatment of you, that anger came back. He might be an asshole, but he didn’t mean to be, not that morning, he really didn’t.

The rage he had managed to supress came bubbling back up and he told her she couldn’t work with you anymore. No daughter of his would ever work for a robber, he said.

“Joel! You can’t do that! She needs my help!”

“Oh, that’s rich. She needs help to rob people? She only makes coffee for a living, for crying out loud, how hard could it be? I can do that with my eyes closed. She did just fine before you started working for her, she’ll be fine doing all her robbing solo now. You are NOT to talk to her again, you understand me?”

Ellie stopped walking, turned around, got something out of her pocket and placed it in Joel’s hands. “She said she would apologize to you in person, but in case she didn’t see you…” and then she turned around and went into her room.

Ellie slammed the door to her room so hard Joel swore the water in the pool rippled. He looked in his hand. 40 dollars. He never told Ellie how much you charged him for the coffee. So this money really was from you.

He could hear Ellie call Sarah on speaker phone, neither bothering to keep their voices down as she complained about him controlling her, how it wasn’t fair, Sarah in disbelief he would do that to you, of all people. The gasp Sarah let out when Ellie told her his remarks about you ‘only making coffee for a living’ was enough to make him wince, pressing his ear to the door to listen to her response.

Sarah told Ellie to take her off the speakerphone and go outside to her balcony to speak.

His calls to Sarah went unanswered.

Damn it.

The next day, in an effort to coax her, Joel asked a quiet Ellie if she could take the day off from work. He could pick her up at noon, maybe they could go have lunch together? Just the two of them? Maybe a movie after? No, she said, she’s working. He’d have to drag her out of your truck to get her to leave. Good luck doing that without someone getting it on camera. He didn’t have to pick her up either. She’ll Uber, she said, before slamming the door behind her.

Joel sat in the truck for quite a while, fingers drumming on the steering wheel, contemplating whether he should go and see you, wait for the coast to be clear, and really apologize. Maybe he could get that cup of coffee while he was there. He’ll even pay the 40 bucks again, to show you he was serious about apologizing.

But the longer he sat there contemplating, the less courage he had to go to you. He had met you three times, he froze the second time – seeing as your ready smile disappeared as soon as you saw him - not that he could blame you. He should have let you cool off before going over then, perhaps you wouldn’t have been so mad at him still if he had waited a few days before trying to apologize? And he managed to bark at you during the other two meetings. What if he did that again? And maybe his nerves would settle by then, he would make sure he was not annoyed at anyone or burdened by the worry that his daughter had gone missing before he went to see you next.

But he really wanted coffee. Not necessarily the ones you make, of course, but he was not looking forward to find parking during rush hour. He’ll just have to fix that machine. He could do without coffee for a day.

He disassembled the old machine and laid out the parts one by one, cleaning everything, taking notes on what needed replacing, making a list of what to get. He got everything he needed to get and picked up a still angry Ellie, who spent the rest of the day in her room, not speaking to him.

The next day was spent reassembling everything. New wiring, new everything. It took him so long he was nodding off by the time he placed the finished product on his kitchen counter, going straight to bed, hoping that he would at least get some sleep after two sleepless nights.

He didn’t. And now he really needed that coffee.

“Please work… please… I need this. Please…” he said over and over as he filled the filter with coffee, closed the lid, poured in the water and placed the pot on the warmer plate. Ellie came out of her room and poured herself some milk and some cereals to eat dry. She watched as her adopted father rubbed his hands together over and over before finally flicking the switch on, and the coffee maker came to life – well, at least the red light at the bottom of the thing lit.

Joel flicked the switch at the bottom of the machine.

The kitchen was silent for a few seconds. Joel couldn’t breathe. Ellie stopped chewing in anticipation.

The hiss came, and the next thing they knew, coffee began dripping into the pot, and the aroma of coffee began emanating through the kitchen.

Joel whooped. Ellie rolled her eyes and texted Sarah – ‘He got it to work again’.

They were still not speaking, but both were now staring at the coffee pot as coffee trickled steadily into it, Joel with a satisfied grin on his face, relieved that he could now get coffee without having to pay a small fortune to some fancy café, or a disgruntled small business owner such as yourself. Ellie was just amazed that machine refused to die, to be honest. She respected the determination that old machine had. Damn. That’s good quality machinery.

Joel turned around, struck by the silence in the kitchen, usually filled with the crunching of dry cereal. Ellie didn’t even look away, her lips turned down while her head nodded slightly, clearly impressed at this feat. He turned towards her, wanting to clear the air off the discomfort this silent fight over the situation between him and her boss once and for all.

* Hiss… crackle… hiss… POP! *

The house went dark, save for the morning light coming from outside through the curtains. The machine was smoking. Joel rushed to pull the socket out of the outlet.

‘Nvmnd, it imploded’ Ellie’s fingers quickly texted, stuffing the last of the cereals into her mouth and downing her glass of milk before placing the dishes in the sink.

Joel sighed. “Why wouldn’t you work???” he grunted at the machine.

“I dunno. Maybe cause it’s ancient?” Ellie snarked, going to her room to get her bag.

Joel poured whatever was in that coffee pot into a mug, desperate for coffee. Two days without coffee. He was dying. He took a sip, and immediately spat it back out into the sink, wiping his mouth of any remnants and gargling the taste away.

Sarah and Tommy were right. Heck, even Ellie, who had never drunk a drop of coffee in her life was right. That machine produced shit coffee. That was too bitter. Burnt. He hadn’t noticed before. He was too used to it, having consumed coffee it brewed for over 20 years.

Well, shit.

He stared at that still smoking machine, his head down. He cleaned the area quickly, wiping that machine down. He went to the utility room and reset the breaker, coming back out to a waiting Ellie. She didn’t say anything, but she could see how down he was that the machine broke, yet again. He grabbed his wallet and keys, put his shoes on and went into the garage. As Ellie closed the door to leave, she couldn’t help but notice he didn’t move the machine to the garage as he usually did when it broke, leaving it at its usual spot.

Joel didn’t speak throughout the journey to the rec centre. Ellie found herself worrying, despite her determination not to forgive him so easily.

‘He’s too quiet. I’m worried. I think the machine breaking again broke him,’ she texted Sarah.

‘Call me when ur alone’ Sarah had texted back.

Ellie grabbed Joel’s hand as she opened the door when they’d arrived, giving it a squeeze, earning her a small smile from the man before leaving. He watched as Ellie walked to the truck, no class today. She just wanted to work, determined to get that car. Joel contemplated going with her for a cup. He still hadn’t had his coffee. And going three whole days without one was definitely going to push him over the edge. But even he could tell that today was not a good day to go see you.

It’s stupid, he knew that. The machine was over 20 years old. It first gave out maybe ten years ago, but every time it did, he managed to fix it. Tommy, Angela, both had gifted him coffee machines for Christmas and birthdays, but he had always given them away, preferring to use the one he already had.

When he moved to this house all those years ago, the machine was the first thing he brought in. Every time it broke and got fixed, the time it took between working and  breaking again got shorter and shorter, and today, it broke in less time than it took to make a full pot. A record by any means.

Laura hadn’t been a coffee drinker. And Joel couldn’t function without a cup every morning. Earlier in their marriage he had basically gotten by on instant coffee, and was fine with it, until Laura presented him with that machine he had kept to this day. He still bought that brand she had bought with the machine, ground coffee rather than instant ones.

She was his first love. Before her, girls were flings and one night stands, nothing more. He was 19 and still enjoying his life as a young man. She wasn’t interested in him at first but relented and agreed to go out on a date with him one day. She got pregnant when he was 20, and they got married immediately. He got a job, she stayed at home with Sarah when she was born. They didn’t have much, but they made do. He was happy.

And then, just a week after his birthday, his boss came, tires screeching to his worksite – she had been in an accident. She didn’t make it.

His world crumbled that day. And that coffee machine was the one birthday gift he had ever received from her. So he kept it, a reminder of his one and only love life, a life he didn’t want to relive. It hurt too much. But now, even he was sure that machine was dead. For good. And he was scared. Worried, that that reminder of that life he had was now gone. It made his heart beat uncomfortably, made his breathing feel off.

Maybe he just needed coffee. That ought to get his bearings right. But going to see you for a cup in this state of mind wasn’t a good idea. So he decided to brave the morning traffic and get a cup of coffee from one of those fancy chains, just to ease his craving.

He drove over, parked, and stood in the ridiculously long line, a hat on his head, keeping his eyeline on the floor, praying that he wouldn’t be recognized. He finally got to the counter, the barista asking him at least three times if he was sure he wanted six shots of espresso. He nodded and gave the boy his card and waited for his order. When it was ready, he picked it up and went inside his truck to take his drink in peace.

It was good. Certainly much better than that travesty he had somehow thought was great coffee for more than 20 years. Certainly eased his caffeine fix.

But something was missing.

He kept waiting for that feeling he had when he first took a sip of the coffees he had gotten from you. That calm, comforting feeling that made him feel all warm and fuzzy and cared for, but it never came.

Well, he thought, that was to be expected, really. The machine he held on to for over 20 years just died, maybe for good, so perhaps he wasn’t feeling too soft today.

A package arrived for Ellie that day. He didn’t open it, but when he told her about it that evening, she said it was something she ordered a few days ago. She needed it for work, and oh, by the way, she was working the next day.

“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” he protested. He was already annoyed she chose to go to work on a Saturday, but being alone at home had actually helped him calm down about the coffee machine. He had hoped they would be able to spend time together. Maybe go shopping for a new coffee machine.

“There’s a charity thing going on tomorrow, for homeless kids. Lily is open most Sundays anyway, so she’s participating. There’ll be a crowd. I want to help her. Please? That truck is her only source of income, she needs the money,” she pleaded.

Joel sighed. Fine. But next weekend, we spend some time together, okay? Deal, Ellie said.

“Ellie, it’s almost seven. I thought you said you needed to be there 730?” Joel knocked on her door.

No answer.

“Ellie?”

No answer.

“I’m coming in,” Joel opened the door and walked in, Ellie bundled up in bed, sweaty and feverish. Joel immediately sat next to her, hand feeling her forehead. Shit, she was burning up.

“I don’t feel too good,” she croaked.

“Well, okay, you stay home and rest. Where’s your phone? We can text Lily and tell her you’re not coming.”

“No Joel, she needs the help. Her coffee grinder is broken. I need to help her grind the coffee. I even ordered one to help her. She wouldn’t have time to grind and make the drinks at the same time. I need to help her.”

“Well, you’re in no shape to help anyone right now. No, you’re staying in bed.”

“Can you help her, Joel? Please? She needs the help! Just grind some beans for her and put it in the container so she could just scoop some up to make the coffee with. Please? You don’t even have to stay long. Just fill the container. And then you could come home. Please? I’ll owe you one. Please Joel?”

If there was one thing about Joel Miller, he was a secret softie at heart. There was no way he could withstand pleas from his girls. All they had to do was say please, and he would cave. So, from the very first plea, he knew he would be spend the day grinding coffee beans. For Ellie, of course. Anything for Ellie.

“Fine, but you stay home and rest, okay? I’ll get you some Tylenol.”

“It’s okay, I’ve already taken some. Go. She’ll be waiting,” she said, pushing him off the bed a little.

She waited until Joel left to get rid of the hot water bottle she had hidden under the blanket.

You were getting the truck ready for the day. There was an event today, just a friendly soccer match between some local teams. As per every Sunday you opened, you were just doing a half day today. There was laundry to be done, some greasy Chinese you planned to order and a nice book you just got with your name on it. You had just emptied one container of coffee beans you had freshly roasted this very morning into the grinder and were getting another out when hurried footsteps approached.

Weird, you thought. It’s 735. Who was here this early? You don’t open until 8 on Sundays. The match wouldn’t start until 9.

Oh God it’s him. Oh, wait, this is good. You can apologize to him now. You had felt bad for doing what you did on Wednesday, but he hadn’t shown since. This was your chance.

Wait. Was he carrying… a coffee mill? A classic one at that. The ceramic kind. With the manual handle on top and the wooden drawer at the bottom. The one your Dad had on display at his cafés. He was half running, climbing straight into your truck, apologizing for being late, asking you where he should set up.

You just stood there, your brain trying to catch up with what the heck was going on. He placed the mill on the counter nearer to the door, asking you if that was okay? Would he be in your way? You shook your head absent-mindedly, still trying to figure out what was going on.

He reached for an apron behind you, immediately putting it on and tying the strings behind him, taking the container of coffee beans from you, pointing to the other empty container you just emptied, asking you if that’s where the ground coffee should go? You didn’t even have time to answer, he immediately scooped some beans out and placed it in the bowl, immediately grinding the beans as fast as he could, telling you that Ellie was sick, so he was here to help instead. He hoped that was okay? He won’t be in your way, he promised.

He was grinding the fourth batch of beans when your brain finally caught up, and you put your hand on his, stopping his actions. He looked at you.

“What is going on? Why are you here? I hope Ellie is not too sick, but I wasn’t expecting her today.”

He looked confused. It was only then that he looked around, realizing that there were not many people around.

“She… told me to come in her stead… she said there was a charity event today? That you’d be extremely busy. And that your grinder was broken, and you needed her help to mill some beans?”

You looked at him as if he was speaking gibberish.

“There’s a friendly soccer match at 9, but… other than that… and also…” you took a step back and turned the knob on the grinder. Within seconds, the doser was filling up with freshly ground coffee.

You looked at him, who was now sweating slightly from his milling efforts, looking confused as hell. He suddenly took a deep breath, closed his eyes and held up one finger at you, taking his phone out and dialling, his face as stern as only a father’s could be.

“Ellie! Pick up! What the heck is going on? You just wait, young lady! You wait ‘til I get home. You and I need to have some serious talks!” He hung up, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Look, Joel, I’m sorry you had to come all the way here. I swear I know nothing about this. I’m sorry you spent all that effort milling. Shit, are you okay?”

He looked at the ground coffee he had already placed in the container. “Can you use this? Did I damage your beans?”

You laughed a little, “No, it’s just unnecessary labour, that’s all. I’m sure you would rather sleep in, today being Sunday and all.”

He leaned on the cupboard behind him, his size making your truck look like a toy. He rubbed his face, shaking his head, trying to understand why Ellie had lied to him like this. And now she was not picking up his calls. He wondered if she was even sick. Wait… she bought a coffee mill just to send him here to use it? Did she concoct this whole thing? For what? His head was spinning so much he had to bend down a little to catch his breath. You slid a stool over to him, placing your hand on his shoulder, asking him to sit down.

“You okay?”

He nodded, sitting down, rubbing his face again. “Thanks for asking,” he mumbled. He took another deep breath.

“Lily, right?”

You nodded.

“Could I please trouble you for a cup of coffee? My machine is broken. Again.”

You smiled, of course, you said. You turned around and began making his coffee, using the ground he had just milled. He should be able to enjoy the fruits of his unnecessary labour, you joked, earning you a smile from him. When you finally handed him his cup, he got his wallet out of his pocket, and you waved him off. It’s on the house, Joel. Don’t worry about it.

“No, please, I insist,” he said, taking his card out. “Can’t have you losing 40 dollars every time I get coffee here.”

You laughed, embarrassed by his teasing. “I’m sorry about that. I just… I guess I had enough of people treating me like shit just because they are someone, or merely for the fact that I serve them coffee, you know? Just because I am not famous and I make coffee for a living doesn’t mean I’m below them, you know?”

He nodded, hand still holding his card out to you.

“Really, Joel, it’s okay. It’s on the house.”

Joel felt bad. “Please, I can’t do that to you. This is how you make a living. Please let me pay.”

You smiled, “Joel, I won’t go bankrupt just because I gave you a cup of coffee. Don’t worry. Keep it. I insist.”

He finally relented, stashing the card back into his wallet, and finally taking a sip.

There it was.

His eyes closed, that warm and fuzzy feeling was back, spreading into his bones. He suddenly felt calm, safe, protected, cared for. His breathing eased, his body relaxed, an unwitting smile gracing his features. When he finally opened his eyes, your smiling face greeted him, and his eases heightened. His mood just… lifted. For the first time in a long time, he actually felt happy, and it had nothing to do with Sarah or Ellie.

“Hey Lil?” Tony from the next truck’s voice chirped. “You open? The baby was up all night and I need coffee the size of my head.”

“Yeah, sure. Is he okay?”

“He seems okay, just fussy. Babies, you know. Er… Lil, customers starting to line up, that okay?”

“Give me a minute, okay? Still setting up,” you told them, an apologetic smile on your face. They nodded, asking you to take your time. People have started arriving for the tournament, and you haven’t quite finished setting up.

“Can I help? I’m here and all…” Joel got up, taking another sip of his coffee before placing the cup on the counter, rolling his sleeves.

“You don’t have to, I’m okay, really.”

“Let me help. I stalled you, let me do the easy things. Please. It’s the least I can do. Free labour for the lady I was rude to, please? Take it as a first step to the many, many apologies I plan to seek from you.”

You contemplated for a while, before asking him to take the orders. You gave him a quick tutorial of the till, and he tried totalling six shots of espresso, keying the price into the reader and tapped his card on it, grinning at your annoyed expression that he managed to pay you despite your protest. It’s confirmed. Six shots of espresso did not cost 40 dollars, he told you, raising an eyebrow cheekily.

You rolled your eyes and told him to ask you if he runs into any problems.

“Yes Ma’am,” he said, tipping his hat at you.

You handed Tony his drink and flipped the closed sign to open. Joel stood at the till, smiling at the first customer in line, who immediately recognized him.

“Oh my God! You’re Joel Miller aren’t you?”

“Sorry, you must have me confused with someone else. I’m just Joel today, may I please take your order?”

Part 5

[ingek73]

The real reason people are mad at Meghan Markle’s new lifestyle show

Leslie Gray Streeter

3/13/2025 5:30 a.m. GMT-4

BEVERLY HILLS, CALIFORNIA - DECEMBER 04: Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, attends The Paley Center for Media hosts Paley Honors Fall Gala honoring Tyler Perry at Beverly Wilshire, A Four Seasons Hotel on December 04, 2024 in Beverly Hills, California. (Photo by Unique Nicole/Getty Images)

The role of an elite lifestyle guru is to present aspirational entertaining ideas that could almost be replicated by ordinary folks, but can’t be matched exactly without staff and one’s own goat to milk. Martha Stewart once presented a recipe for making marshmallows, an item available for about two bucks on the shelves of any store. Goop impresario Gwyneth Paltrow sold a candle that supposedly smelled like her genitals for… reasons.

On her hit Netflix show “With Love, Meghan,” the Duchess of Sussex creates a balloon arch for a kid’s birthday party with a pump you could get for less than $20 and makes little tea sandwiches in cute shapes, and on the internet she got literally compared to Marie Antionette. It’s so unhinged that some writers tried to make the show’s ratings, in Netflix’s top ten, into a negative because it didn’t do as well as “Meghan and Harry.”

I wonder what the difference is.

I’m lying. You know what it is.

“There is an obvious answer here. Ultimately it does come down to racism,” said Simone Phillips, who operates the local food site Charm City Table. Paltrow, Stewart and Ina Garten of “The Barefoot Contessa” are rich white ladies, but Meghan — actual royalty — is a rich biracial lady, so critics act like her show takes it a diamond-encrusted bridge too far.

So far, the duchess has been accused of bragging about keeping bees, a pastime Baltimoreans do on their roofs, or using a pricey but readily available Le Creuset pan that lasts virtually forever if taken care of. “I have some at home right now, and I’m not some millionaire,” Phillips said. “I did not fly to Paris to get it shipped to me.”

Some “With Love, Meghan” haters have had their own expensive knives out for her since the moment she started dating Prince Harry. Perhaps that’s because she’s living their adolescent fantasy, and a woman like her isn’t supposed to.

And the umbrage is further umbraging because she’s not only living in style but unapologetically enjoying herself. “It’s Black joy,” said Lynne Childress of Annapolis, a longtime enthusiast of scratch cooking and painting furniture, and my identical twin sister. “That offends some people.”

Every woman I spoke to for this column was raised in majority-Black Baltimore, where it’s common to know every type of Black person. “We can be hood, hood-adjacent or from Roland Park or Homeland,” Phillips said.

It’s not surprising then that those who look like us throw parties or have nice things, whether they spent coupons or the whole treasure chest. What is spent on each “With Love, Meghan” project " might be aspirational, but to say it’s not relatable? That’s ridiculous,” said Kendra Nelson, a lifestyle influencer known as the Charm City Maven.

The Park Heights native took her cues from her proud homemaker mom, Cynthia, who sewed dresses from her own patterns and designed curtains and homemade cards. Now Nelson chronicles her own fabulousness so that people know what’s possible. “The [critical] narrative is pushing against the idea that I can have a joyful, easy fun life,” Nelson said. “Black women have the right and ability to live their full lives. It shouldn’t be such a hard thing to reach for.”

It’s not. Both my grandmothers were consummate hostesses; one had her own garden in her modest but immaculate Prince George’s County home. My sister once made our Thanksgiving dressing out of bread she baked herself. I, on the other hand, used to joke that we should do a show called “Girl, You Know You Can Buy That” where Lynne would harvest her own almond milk and I would just buy a carton at Giant. But even as a single mom with little time on my hands, I have been known to happily make my own matzo balls and vegan cheese.

Black women are not a monolith. My sister, and, by extension, Meghan, whose show has already been renewed, do a lot. But they love it. So let them.

It’s not that mainstream audiences aren’t accustomed to seeing Black wealth on TV. The rich people on “Real Housewives of Potomac” or the recent Maryland-based CBS soap “Beyond The Gates” are blingier. What Meghan has, however, is referred to as a soft life — an existence that requires time and money, but has an ease that’s separated from the grit and toil in which Black people are expected to dwell.

And that’s what pisses the haters off. In 2020, London-based writer Liv Siddall claimed that the image of Black lifestyle blogger and former Elle editor Paula Sutton relaxing on her English countryside estate triggered Siddall into deleting her Instagram account. Many on Twitter at the time immediately clocked that Siddall seemed to be insinuating that it’s inauthentic for non-white people to aspire to that sort of rarified life. Maybe if she was picking vegetables as the cook, she’d belong, but as the lady of the manor? Unheard of!

My best friend Melanie Hood-Wilson, a talented scratch cook, said Meghan’s whole vibe would be received differently if she said, “‘This recipe is from my grandmama down in Alabama.’ We’re supposed to struggle, to be poor person aspirational. Meghan is rich girl aspirational.”

The whole point of the soft life genre, from Martha to the turtleneck-clad heroines of Nancy Meyers movies sipping white wine in their massive coastal kitchens, is to present an aesthetic that is probably fiscally out of reach but still fun to think about and try to replicate at HomeGoods. The resistance to Meghan, apart from the fact that some people just hate her, is a persistent disconnect between who gets to have that dream, and who doesn’t. Surprise! If you can buy that pan, or pump those balloons, you get to have it. And we’re gonna revel in it.

“One of the problems here is that people want her to make herself smaller,” Hood-Wilson said. “We don’t do that anymore. I’m not making myself small for anyone.”

[msfbgraves]

Thrifting: a way to help yourself and others when disabled

My mother grew up in a family that was constantly penny pinching and she hated it. My father was so cheap other people made fun of him or complained bitterly (my parents made an interesting couple). My ass is disabled so "just getting a job" was never on the table. Employment has always been an unreliable option - not impossible, but tumultuous. So saving money has always been a keen interest. But doing it right, like. I feel that people use it as an option to shaft someone, even themselves, and I do not hold to that. Also, you cannot thrift yourself out of insufficient funds. You need mo money, you need mo money. But we also know that society loves an excuse to underpay people, deny promotions and fuck you over in a million different ways no matter how hard you work.

Thrifting is work that will always yield results, no matter who you are, and a good skill to have when mf's keep finding excuses to not pay you, or even employ you. It's even better when you're in a position to say, hm, more would be nice, but I'm staying afloat. Again, this is no feckin bootstrap talk. This is getting more bang for your buck.

And especially during Disability Pride this actually makes me proud to be able to do. Without hurting anyone, for one, and actually helping those without the time for it. I can find The Thing for less for them very often.

OK, first things first.

This is not self-denial 101. Fuck off with that. We want more joy maximisers, not fewer.

The Vimes boots theory is 100% correct. But there are plenty of places where $50 boots are sold for $25 or even $20. Yes, in Ankh Mopork too.

Skills are cash money. I should know, I barely have any.

Many people think that thrifty means "cheap" and "no fun". And that's what people do. "Whelp, I have to economise, so I can't have any treats and can only shop at Primark. Bummer! I hate life."

No, you're going to have to put some more time in preparation, and you need to figure out where to look.

It's an activity.

The first thing I would advise people to do is clean their stuff up. Told you this was work. And that may feel terrifying but if you know what you have you find things you thought you needed to buy. That's an immediate savings without pain. C'mon, do you really think you'd get a high from buying oregano? Of course not, and now you don't have to. You've probably slashed off 25% off your grocery bill for the week without going without anything you look forward to buying. King shit.

You probably have a keen sense of what you need to replace and since you're already going to Goodwill, look there. A lot of second hand is higher quality, and even if it's not, it can still be 25 to 80% below dollar store.

All that extra space will come in handy for buying things and storing them until gift giving season arrives, or birthdays and the like.

Gifts are insanely important. Don't skimp on the quality of something you buy for others. Find the place that stunts with that item. Here, time is your friend, too. If you can wait three weeks for it to ship, you can take advantage of a lower price nearly always.

Ask people what you're looking for and spruce the thing up when they offer it to you. Again, here the skills are a lifesaver.

Personalise. Any small thing that actually fits a recipient will be much appreciated. Gift wrap with care, write a kind message. But only do this when you can't find a "normal" gift for a better price. If you can find a steal, still gift wrap with care.

Do treat yourself! But treat it as anything else you want: best quality for the best price. This can also mean adding a top up. For instance: I generally know what the best bang for your buck is when it comes to theatrical shows: the last preview. Saw a show during the last try out, but spent $30 extra on seats. More expensive than just regular seats, vastly better experience. I did find a discount on parking too - who tf likes to pay for parking anyway?

Buy clothing that fits your body shape. That's what makes you look good. Vintage is fine, who cares if you wear something high quality that looks gorgeous?

Learn what stuff is made of. I bought a stick of foot balm that is supposed to prevent blisters. Felt suspiciously like vaseline. Next time I succesfully used vaseline.

Something I never hear but I find very useful: go on and try the hideously expensive option if possible. See what the fuss is about. Incorporate the thing you like most about it in your routine, don't bother with the rest. Other end of the spectrum: do a taste test with store brand. If it's bad, now you know. If it's good, no one will notice.

Loyalty programmes can be your friend, if you don't look at them as the default option. Do sign up, don't get mad if they keep taking away your credit. Every time they give you something for what you would have done anyway is a win.

Shop around for better banking fees. Who the hell wants to pay those anyway.

Try to pay for what you want and only what you want. Review any package deal; they're rarely worth it.

Try something a little bit different, if you have the skill to back it up. Go do things "people like you don't do". Slovenian wine, people.

Be consistently nice, and people will gladly help you with things. Can be a huge savings. Give where and what you can.

Take the bus, geezus. All that nonsense about it being a poor people thing or dangerous when travelling. How do you think locals get home?

Again I am aware this is work and of course, nobody can do all of it all the time. But I know a lot of people who start by slashing the joy, but why would you? Have your latte! Take your trip! Have your avocado and triple organic eggs. Think about where and when you buy things instead, and be a little adventurous.

If you're disabled with limited energy, this is a way you can help out those around you. Maybe you can do it for them. I am proud of all the ways I have saved my friends and family money without compromising on quality at all. I promise you: loyalty discounted organic chicken thighs with store brand cream cheese blanched in leftover white wine sauce with $0.40 worth of pasta are really damn yummy. And those $40 dollars saved on a taxi because I found the right bus on a trip are welcome too.

People mostly don't want to do this work. But if you can, and know how, you can be a great help to those you love.

[sixflame438]

really? that was a long ask too :(( it goes like this (long ask ahead)

M.I.A and Gabriela is that song for me. I just loveeee it. Gameboy has been creeping up but I need a few more listen. Overall the ep is good, i wish theres more song ngl. I would like to thank you for telling me about weverse omg. I feel old asf but I was literally not familiar with Weverse so I thought I could use Wise (some currency bank app that i would not get into) for the transaction (so I could pay in usd) only to find out that it was not an option so I was panicking doing research on which bank acc of mine I could use for less foreign exchange fee (I ended up using PayPal lol). The purchase was last minute btw, I was contemplating if I deserve it and was immediately hit with a yolo so I bought it on the night of 26th 😭 (which explains the panicking when I found out Wise does not work).

Dude I swear, thank you for doing the calculations and shit cause I paid less with Weverse than if I bought it from Kkangz or the Kpop Store website based here. Though the shipping fee is crazyyyy cause the shipping cost more than the set itself. I was so shocked (well not really, this country is literally so far from every other country) that I could buy 2 fucking sets if it’s free shipping. As for my previous ask, I asked which member(s) is/are your bias in katseye (not too sure if I asked this one before)? Cause I both the set and I would happily give some of the inclusions (if I ever get double or not) to you lol (based on the location of course, and if you dont mind cause I seriously dont). I just feel like as much as I would love it, I won’t really use it which would probably rot in my place. I was planning on getting some merch too cause their merch is sick but the polo jersey cost like $80+ usd which is crazy bro my wallet looked at me with a frown. anyways I’ll definitely tell you more once it arrives.

(sorry for typos and shit, got some fuckass work tomorrow and im writing this with like one eyes open)

Bro i love asks dont you EVER worry 😌😌

Nah trust i gotchu on all that, nothing better then helping someone out on something you spent enough time researching for anyway :P And bruh seperate merch really do be expensive asf 😭😭 I will say i did buy a lsfm shirt from weverse tho, do i regret it? Absolutely not and i dont remember it being crazy expensive either AND it came w two pcs so yay!

My biases are yoonchae and sophia! Have been since the start and i used to say yoon wecker but they kinda swap sometimes so wtv point is theyre both cool

AND WE TWINNNN BC MIA AND GABRIELA ARE MY FAVS ON THE ALBUM RARGHHHH WE LIKE THIS🤞LOVE the beat n chorus of mia and gabriela as a whole its just perfection to me and i do like gameboy too! I like the way it incorporates the arcade falling sounds too and the song is so soft sounding its great 😌 I will say personally dont love mean girls, i get the message/lyrics but yea idk man…. But yes hard agree on the wish it was longer thing bc man ep ended too quickly and im mad abt how short mia is too >:(

AND DUDE UR SO SWEET FOR CONSIDERING TO GIVE ME STUFF RARGHHHH i might cry actually… Like you srsly dont need to, plus it would just find a place on my shelf. I love having shit on display OOOOH and lmk if u wanna see my shelf too, i love my shelf (the shelf is a 20 buck one from kmart lol)

BUT NAH THE WHOLE SHIPPING THING GETS ME EVERYTIME BC WDYM THE SHIPPING COSTS MORE THAN THE ALBUMS????!? Ffs i could have so much shit if shipping wasnt a problem.

And yeah dw i know what wise is, its how i make my transactions online bc i dont actually have a credit card lol 😂😂 but yea i use my wise card and on weverse it sends me to paypal for encryption or something i dont actually know but i technically in a way pay through that without an account if that makes any sense at all

And for my safety im not gonna dox myself or anything lmao but i am north so take that as u will

Bro dont even worry abt typos i make em all the time as long as its still comprehensible ur allll goods

[byanyan]

@lufitaro sent:ㅤ❝ i took 20 bucks out of your bag last night. ❞

you little shitㅤㅤ∘ ˚ ( accepting )

ㅤno thought, no hesitation, no confrontation to let him explain himself — the moment the words leave luffy's mouth, he has sealed his fate. in one swift, sudden movement, byan kicks one of his knees out from under him and tackles him to the ground. his back hits the dirt, and they land on top of him with a dull thump, immediately scrambling up to sit on his stomach and pin him in place. hands grab the front of his shirt, jerking his head up off the ground none too gently, and byan leans forward so they're practically nose-to-nose.

ㅤㅤ" that's where it went? "ㅤthe question is a hiss, eyes narrowed into a glare as they aggressively hold luffy's gaze. fists clench tighter around the fabric of his shirt, and they give him a good, solid shake. is this a bit excessive for twenty dollars, especially considering he's their friend? probably. however, it's also quite tame in comparison to some of the things they've done to people for a lot less. not only did he touch their bag while they either weren't paying attention or weren't in the room, but he went in to it and stole money? to say that byan is mad is an understatement.

ㅤㅤ" you don't touch my shit unless i say you can, got it? "ㅤthere's a clear threat in their tone, lacking the usual degree of lightheartedness that they typically threaten luffy with. they're serious about this, genuinely perturbed by this crossing of one of their boundaries despite the fact that they have, on more than one occasion, stolen cash straight out of luffy's pockets without a second thought. but their own personal hypocrisy is not what they care about, now or ever.

ㅤㅤ" next time, you won't get off this easy. hear me? "ㅤan eyebrow raises, and after staring straight into luffy's eyes for another few seconds to really get the point across, byan finally releases their grip on his shirt. reaching back, their hand slips into his pants pocket, fingers searching out either his wallet or any loose cash he has tucked inside.ㅤ" i'm takin' my money back. 'n maybe a bit extra too — consider it an interest fee. and if you already spent it all... then i'm actually gonna kick your ass as payment. "

[starbuckie]

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐳𝐞

challenge: 3k writing challenge by @balenciagabucky and @dulceslibrary

prompt: poolboy!bucky and dad’sbestfriend!steve

pairing: poolboy!bucky barnes x reader, dad’sbestfriend!steve rogers x reader

words: 2.7k words

warnings: SMUT 18+ (exhibitionism, voyeurism, m masturbation, unprotected sex, spanking), hookup sex, jealousy, age gap (bucky and reader 20’s, steve late 30’s)

summary: steve’s jealous and he hates that she’s wrapped around another cock, but he can’t say he hates watching it either.

a/n: happy three thousand followers tiana!! um, the whore jumped out here. it truly did. i am very proud of this one, and it’s also my first stucky x reader, so i really, truly enjoyed getting to write these two au’s along with it. please, please enjoy, and leave feedback if you did <3

main masterlist || mcu masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

It wasn’t as if the two were even dating. 

Bucky Barnes did not date. Steve knew, everyone in the neighborhood, parents and children alike, knew that he refused to go steady with someone for longer than a month or so. He hated people in general, much less a person to hang off his arm like an awestruck puppy, and he had two socials: messages (if that even counted) and Snapchat. He was essentially a hermit.

But Bucky Barnes did fuck. And well. 

Word of how he swindled and played around with women had been whispered on the streets, young college girls giggling about how he charmed them into his bed and how he was gone the next day. He stuck to his fuckboy ways, and with that chiseled, boyish smirk of his, he got away with no repercussions. Steve couldn’t really blame the boy for what he did. He used to be exactly the same way. 

So he had no reason to be fuming as he watched the young casanova flirt with Y/N down by her dad’s pool, his bright blue eyes roaming over her scantily clad body. The boy was shirtless, showcasing carved ropes of muscle across his abdomen, and scars across his left arm that proved a story. His normally fluffy brown hair sat a sweet bunch of curls atop his head after picking a few leaves out of the pool. Tattoos, elegant birds taking flight and octopi roping around his thick biceps, filled out his arms and chest, ink seeming to cover every inch of down to his swim trunks. He truly was a shit pool boy, but he made a few hundred bucks nearly every weekend for doing it.

Still, Steve was in no position to be upset about Bucky shamelessly eyeing the girl. After all, his eyes strayed just the same.

Watching water drip down the valley of her tits. The small smirk she wore, teeth biting down on her lower lip. The thong-like bottom, barely covering the round globes of her ass. Her thighs rubbing together, just begging for any kind of release like a desperate little bitch. 

The college girl was his immoral pleasure. He’d only met her at the feisty age of nineteen, fresh out of her sophomore year at UCLA. Her dad was new in the neighborhood, having bought the giant mansion of a house next to his. Truthfully, Steve didn’t care much for David at first, but the older man was loaded and had a daughter who looked a lot better than he could’ve ever imagined. He grew to like the man more after that. Tortoiseshell sunglasses slipped down her nose when she dove to shake his hand at their first meeting and she seemed shy and sweet right up until she squeezed his hand a little too hard and sent him a wink. 

He had been a ruined man ever since.

Her quiet flirtatiousness had carried on in every meeting they had, from coming home from college for Thanksgiving break and whenever he hung around at her dad’s house, she was there, there hitting on him, the forty-two year old man from the next house over. Why she did it, he’d never know. He was old, an ex-fiance that spent his time doing nothing but work and walking his dog. And yet, she, this gorgeous, smart, sexy college girl with a bright future ahead of her would occasionally brush a hand over his dick or bend over a little too far, or just far enough for him to see her glistening pussy. 

She constantly put on a show for them that she knew he couldn’t look away from. 

“God damn it,” Steve growled. A dull throb thrummed in his lower abdomen, and he could feel his cock begin to harden. 

It had been two months since he last got off, and twice as long since he fucked someone. Before he even knew what he was doing, his hands were reaching into his pants and pulling his dick out. The feel of his rough, calloused palm against the burning skin on his cock made him choke on his own spit as he let out a wanton moan. Veins popped out of tattooed arm as he tightened the hold of his cock, breads of precome dripping down his purplish head. He was painfully hard, leaking into his fisted hand and he couldn’t help himself from hissing when he wiped the precome off.

His eyes briefly closed, and just for a moment, he imagined Y/N. In all her wet glory, her nipples poking through the flimsy, pretty pink material of her pink polo shirt at her dad’s summer start off, imagined her bare cunt dripping on his muscular thigh. He brought to mind every single second of her teasing and lust-filled gazes as he gently stroked his cock, hoping that one day he’d have the real thing. 

It was a nice fantasy, one he indulged himself in almost daily- but it seemed to continue once he'd opened his eyes. His breath caught in his throat. He stopped stroking his cock, his hands instead finding rest against the cold, clean windows, and he practically smashed his nose against the glass to get a better look at what he may or may not have been seeing. Because what he thought was going on down there couldn’t be.

There was just no fucking way.

Outside the house, right down on the pool deck where anyone in the mansion could see them, was Y/N and Bucky. Fucking. At some point, simple flirting became a full-on attack, and while Steve wasn’t paying attention, the young wolf of Brooklyn Heights had the college girl sprawled out on the woven chair she had once sat upon. Her bikini pushed under her tits and her bottoms strewn somewhere in the water. Ankles thrown over broad, scarred shoulders, hips pistoning deep and hard into hers. One of Bucky’s hands rubbed at her clit vigorously, circling in quick, tight circles as the other groped and grabbed at her bouncing tits. 

In the dead silence of his embarrassment, Steve could hear Y/N. How she screamed for Bucky, and all the pretty sounds he’d only ever fantasized of listening to, and while guilt filled his veins as he eavesdropped and watched his best friend’s daughter, his dick had no morals.

A moan tumbled so lewdly from her lips, and his blue eyes snapped back to her shaking form. “Oh, God, Bucky, B-bucky,” she nearly hiccupped, “use me.”

“That’s fuckin’ right, dolly, lemme hear you again,” the man snarled at her. “Wanna make sure the whole neighborhood knows how much of a whore you are. Beggin’ for a few seconds of my cock like a little greedy baby.”

Steve couldn’t hear what she said next, but that didn’t matter because he saw her nod at his words and the blond was pumping his cock even faster, muttering curses under his breath as he watched the college students fuck each other by the pool. Morals had flown out of the motherfucking window for him. 

Bucky readjusted Y/N’s legs around his waist, hitting deeper inside her as the girl mewled even louder. Her moans of pure ecstasy reached Steve’s ears just the same and his head twitched under his palm as his other grasped at the counter behind him. His hips bucked into his hand in quick motions and the ache from his back arching was beginning to kick in, but his orgasm was oncoming and fast at that. 

“Oh, fuck me,” Steve’s fist tightened around his cock. His abs twitched and flexed against the tight white shirt he wore, sweat beading along the v-line of his waist and the nape of his neck. Summer heat finally started to make its way into the house as he grew closer and closer to his orgasm until suddenly, he was spilling creamy, white liquid over his hand. His come oozed through his fingers, and he moaned low under his breath as he fumbled with his heavy sac. “Shit, baby, that was so good, so good for me.”

As he came down from his high, he noticed that Bucky and Y/N hadn’t finished fucking, his eyes widening as he saw her knees now planted on either side of the younger man’s hips, bouncing up and down on his cock rapidly. His breath hitched in his throat. He didn’t even bother to tuck himself back into his pants, rather pushing himself towards the glass to watch even more as the thrill of his pleasure coursed through him.

Bucky’s lips were puckered around one of Y/N’s nipples, pinching at the other one. A sheen of sweat shone under the sun as she bared her throat to it, head thrown almost backward as she rode him without pause. 

Various dark marks were already starting to bruise on her skin, teeth marks indented on his from the ecstasy he brought her. A hint of jealousy once again reached his conscience, but it was soon fleeting as Y/N’s loud moans reached his ears again. 

“Oh, shit, Bucky, rub my clit, please,” she cried. One of her hands reached for the one on her hip, and she dragged it down to her over-sensitive bundle of nerves, working it into small circles before returning back to his hair. She tugged on it and the older man could hear how much Bucky enjoyed the pain. “God, yes, feels so good, baby.”

“Yeah, I bet it fuckin’ does, huh? You wanna cream on my cock?” Steve could barely hear his words, but the girl he was watching heard them perfectly well. “You wanna show Rogers what he’s missin’ out on? We both know you wanna be squeezin’ the hell out of his dick, show him what you can do, dolly. Come for us.”

With Y/N’s chorus of pleads and curses, she fell over the edge with an overly raucous whine. Her head fell on Bucky’s shoulder as he spanked her cheeks, bathing in the sounds of her hiccups as she creamed on his cock. His hips thrust up into hers a few more times, and he was pulling out of her last second and coming on her stomach. Thick, hot ropes of his come dripped down her tummy and cunt down on his burning hot skin, and he ran two fingers through it before shoving them in her mouth. “Suck it, honey.”

A tired nod and her lips were parting for his fingers, tongue slowly looping around the digits. He was tangy and bitter on her tongue, but it seemed like the sweetest ever when it was him. When she had been the one to make him come like that. Her eyes finally opened as he caressed her ass, but then she saw a glint of something on the second-story window. 

Squinting just the slightest, she saw Steve. She knew he was at the house, they both did, but then she saw his cock. His massive, thick cock, soft, and she knew what he had been doing. 

Their eyes locked. 

“Fuck me, little girl,” Steve watched as her lips sucked the hell out of Bucky’s fingers, but her eyes remained on his. His cock began to harden again, and he tucked himself away before his feet were carrying him out of the kitchen and down the flight of marble stairs, electricity crackling in each step he took. 

Gentle sighs and staggered breaths filled the warm air as Y/N came back from her high, vision blurry, but showing the vibrant, bright colors of the summer day. Bucky practically heaved under her, his hands thrown in his tousled hair as he leaned back and caught his breath. His lips were kiss-bitten and he looked nothing but absolutely debauched after their round of sex. It was usual for them to fuck but that time had been rougher, more carnal because they knew a certain someone was watching them.

“That was a good one, holy shit,” Bucky choked out. Y/N on top of him let him get up, and she flopped back in the chair that had warmed up from the sun (and their tryst) and chuckled out a barely audible laugh. 

“Yeah, it was,” she picked up her cherry martini from the side table, sipping the cool drink through a patterned paper straw. Her flimsy neon orange bikini was still settled under her breasts, leaving her leaking pussy bare to the warm air. At least she wouldn’t get any tan lines. 

Bucky grabbed his shoulder towel from the ground a few feet away and was kind enough to clean her up. He wiped his come from her tummy and pussy, making sure to massage the poor, aching thing while he was at it. He picked up his board shorts from next to where Y/N laid in her chair, briefly glancing up towards where Steve had stood just moments before. He had seen the older man watching them- they both had. “Do y’think he saw this time?”

Bending over to grab her swim bottoms from the water, her leaking, arching pussy bare to the warm air. “Dear God, I hope so. Mrs. Sanderson must be getting sick of hearing us out here and I don’t know how much more I can take.”

“Oh, I know you can take a lot more, sweetheart,” Bucky chuckled darkly. Y/N rolled her eyes, pinching his ass with a grin as he walked by her. “Tell your dad that I need my paycheck by tomorrow, I’m heading off to San Trope.”

“A bit demanding from the man who comes over just pick out a few leaves from the water and fuck me,” she snorted, “my dad barely knows he’s basically paying for a prostitute.”

“Shut it,” he picked up his net and sunglasses from a few chairs over. “Really hope you get his dick soon, dolly, you’re lookin’ needy.”

As Y/N went back to recline in her chair, she flipped him off, listening to his chortles with that signature smirk she just knew he was wearing. The sun basked down on her. There was a dulling ache between her thighs, and her pussy felt as empty as her heart. Maybe Steve really didn’t want her. Maybe her attempts at getting him to fuck her were absolutely fruitless. After all, what would a successful, wealthy businessman do with a twenty year-old theater major? 

Four o’clock in the afternoon. A sixty-minute period where everything seems like a dream. Barely is memorable in the human mind, and to Y/N, and it was barely comprehensible. The harsh Brooklyn sun beat down on her face and her body felt empty now that Bucky was gone. She had three weeks, if not longer until he came back from his trip, which meant she had to either go out to a bar and charm her way into someone sleeping with her or get herself off, which she couldn’t even do anymore. 

Footsteps approached from behind her. It couldn’t be her dad, he was out of the country, God knew where. Despite the brutal rays of sun hitting every inch of her skin, goosebumps arose across it, her chest filling with chilling bile. But as a shadow from behind her and her chair grew over her body, she began to recognize those broad shoulders and the heavy breaths from behind her. Those were the ones she’d just dreamed about in the dead of night with her fingers shoved under the band of her panties.  

“You’ve been showing off that pretty little cunt far too much for my liking, baby. It’s about time you let me fuck it.” Steve grinned down at her, a wolfish sort of thing, and Y/N let herself smile.

Her body relaxed into the chair and arched her back to look back up at him with an impish twinkle in her eye. “Steve, it’s such a pleasure to see you. It’s about goddamn time, I’ve been waiting to hear you say those words forever.”

A growl emerged from his lips and no longer did that ache in her pussy feel empty, but only wet in all the best ways.

[golden-barnes]

Plum tarts and red carnations

Pairing: Florist! Bucky Barnes x F! Reader

Summary: Bucky is enamored with one of the employees of the bakery in front of his store.

Category: Fluff

Warning:s some self-doubting thoughts and cursing .

Word count: 2.5k

Author’s note: I have been thinking about this since that one anon and thank you @buckycuddlebuddy because you helped to inspire me further with this. Also think of Bucky as Beefy because I'm a softy for a gentle giant. Comment and reblog pls and thank you!

“Damn Jerry. You’ve been growing nicely. A little bit more, and you will be ready to find a new home, bud.” Bucky whispered to the little sprout he was watering. Bucky loved his morning routine.

Before opening up his shop, he would check on his nursery. Water the plants in his greenhouse, checking them to see how they have grown. He liked talking to them; they never judged him or ignored him. He even named them. Sam would help, too, though he treated it more as a joke.

After checking on the nursery, he would focus on making bouquets and arrangements for the store. Nobody knew he was the one who made those beautiful arrangements, and he liked it.

It was like therapy for him. Matching the flowers and creating bouquets with meaning was a talent Bucky didn’t know he had. By this point, the shop was opened and ready for business.

While preparing a rose bouquet, he saw a woman in an apron running out of the new coffee shop from the table next to the cash register. Oh shit, she’s pretty. He thought. He kept staring at her and forgot the fresh roses next to him, grabbed one carelessly.

“Fuck.” He accidentally pricked his finger with a thorn. He applied pressure to his wounded finger.

“Oh, are you okay, sir?” The pretty woman from the bakery asked. Bucky didn’t notice her entering the shop, and now she was here. Looking disheveled but incredibly beautiful.

“Yeah, happens all the time. What can I help you with?” He said, trying to sound as composed as possible. He could hear Sam’s voice in his head. “Play it cool, Buck.”The woman let out a sigh.

“I’m co-owner of the coffee shop, and it’s our opening day. I was encharged of the decorations, and I ordered some flowers from this other place, but when they got here, they were horrible. Like really bad. And oh god, I’m rambling, but I need a brand new arrangement.” She said all in one breath. Bucky had to fight a smile from appearing. Adorable.

“It’s okay. What colors did you want?” Bucky asked. The woman smiled at him.

“We wanted white and purples. Something simple. But honestly, I know nothing of flowers. I don’t understand why Wanda put me up with this? Now we are late, and I still have to finish decorating the cupcakes.” She explained while Bucky started to search for the flowers in his shop.

“Lilacs, with white peonies and lavender roses, would make a nice bouquet. How does that sound?” Bucky showed her the flowers he was referring to. The woman gasped.

“Oh, they are so pretty! You, sir, are a genius.” She gushed, still looking at the flowers. Bucky felt his cheeks getting red from receiving praise.

“I can bring it to you,” Buckywhispered, afraid that she might not like that idea. “You know, because you still have some stuff to finish, so you can do it, and I’ll bring it to you in less than 10 minutes.” She looked at him and went to hug him. Bucky tensed, not expecting the hug, but soon relaxed.

“You are literally my hero. Just ask for Y/N,” She said, walking towards the exit. “Wait, what’s your name?” She added, opening the door to leave.

“Bucky.” Y/N smiled at him. “See you later, Bucky.”

Bucky has never worked on an arrangement as hard as this one. He was already meticulous, but he really wanted to impress Y/N. Can you blame him? The pretty girl needed his help, and he wanted her to be happy. He even added some baby’s breath and this new white ribbon that had come in for weddings. He was very proud of it but also very nervous.

With a deep breath, Bucky entered the coffee shop. A brunette was at the door, cleaning the tables.

“Sorry, Sir. We are still aren’t open.” She said. Bucky gulped.

“Uhm. I’m looking for Y/N.” He told her; she looked at the flowers in his hands and understood. She yelled for Y/N, who came out of the kitchen with icing on her check, giving him the brightest smile.

“Hey, Bucky! That’s beautiful! How did you make such a pretty arrangement in less than 20 minutes?” She grabbed the vase out of his hands and set it on the counter. Bucky blushed and scratched his neck, shying away.

“It’s nothing.. I’m just happy you liked it.”

“How much do I owe you?” She asked. Bucky put his hands up.

“Oh, it’s on the house. Don’t worry. Call it a welcome gift.” He explained; Y/N jumped and gave him another hug. This time Bucky wrapped his arms around her.

“You are the nicest person on this fucking planet. I have to make it up to you. What’s your favorite fruit?” She pulled away from him and looked at Bucky in the eye. Bucky felt his breath hitch, and his palms get sweaty.

“I-I like plums.” He stuttered. She gave him a big smile and handed him a cookie.

“Hmm, I can make something with that.” She winked at him.

-

“I still haven’t named you, but honestly, I don’t know. You look like a Janelle, but also, I feel like that doesn’t fit.” Bucky said to the new cactus that arrived yesterday, in the afternoon.

“I think she looks like a Lucille.” Bucky turned around and saw Y/N with a box in hand.

“Oh, hi.” He felt embarrassed. She had heard him talk to his plants. Not even Steve had seen that. It was his private thing.

“She’s cute. What type of cactus is it?” She looked at it, not looking weirded out or anything.

“It’s called a Bishop’s cap. They grow to be very pretty and sprout a yellow flower. Not very popular in the shop, but there’s this new cactus crazy going on, and I thought to stock up.” Bucky explained, putting the cactus down next to the others.

“Do you name all your plants?” Bucky gulped and turned around to face her.

“Yeah, and talk to them too.” Bucky fought the urge to punch himself. Why would he say that? Fuck, now she is gonna think he is a fucking weirdo.

Much to his surprise, she smiled at him. She suddenly remembered the box she brought and opened it.

“For saving me yesterday, I made you a plum tart.” She opened it and pulled out the tart. Bucky felt his heart beating faster, and his hands get clammy.

“You didn’t have to.” “Ah! I beg to differ. Everyone that walked into our shop loved the flowers. They were really something. Like I couldn’t stop looking at them. So I had to show you my gratitude the only way I know how. With treats.”

“I couldn’t possibly eat that all alone. Want to share?” Bucky asked, giving her puppy eyes so she wouldn’t say no.

“You drive a hard bargain, Bucky. Has anyone ever told you can get away with murder with those eyes?” Y/N joked.

“I think my grandma’ probably said it. I have some silverware in the shop’s kitchen. When you have to be at your shop?” Bucky said, signaling her to follow him.

“I’m on break—perks of being the boss.” She explained while Bucky grabbed a few paper plates, forks, and a knife. She grabbed the knife and cut a big piece, and gave it to Bucky. Then she cut a piece for herself.

Bucky took a bite and accidentally let out a moan.

“I take it; you like it.” She winked at Bucky. He diverted his gaze from her. Why the fuck did I do that? Bucky screamed internally.

“It’s delicious. I can see why your shop has been packed since yesterday. Reminds me of my ma’s.” Bucky admitted.

“I’m glad, but I can’t take all the credit. You should see the coffee mixes Wanda came up with. They are the real star.” Bucky smiled at her. Nice and pretty… She let out a cough.

“How did you get really good with plants? Like sorry for the personal question, but you have a talent.” She inquired.

“Well, uhm. After getting discharged, my friend Sam suggested that I take classes to handle stress and PTSD. One of the classes was gardening, and I just found it so calming. So I started taking more courses and learning ‘till I decided to start my own business. I don’t think I could ever work anywhere else.” Bucky noticed her staring at him. “What?” He said, smiling awkwardly at her.

“Nothing. Just thinking about how you are the nicest man I’ve ever meet.” She said nonchalantly. Bucky chuckled.

“It’s nothing major. I just found my calling.” Bucky stated.

“I feel the same. I baked a lot in college, and then suddenly I was like fuck, this is what I want to do for the rest of my life.” She recalled. Her eyes glowed under the light of the kitchen.

“I felt the same way when I started this shop.” Bucky admitted, she bit back a smile.

“By the way, I like the name—Howling’s flowers. Oh, and how pretty this store is, it looks like I walked in a magical forest.” She complimented.

“I- thanks. I named my store after my squad and the decor well; that’s kind of an embarrassing story.” Bucky chuckled nervously. She rolled her eyes.

“Oh, please. I own a coffee shop named Magic café, and all of our items are named after magical things. I am the last person to judge.” Bucky bit his lip nervously while listening to her.

“I based it on The Hobbit. It was my favorite book when I was younger, and I just couldn’t imagine decoring this store anyway else.” Y/N looked at him with an open mouth.

“Okay, are you government android? Because you are friendly, great with plants and well-read. You are too good to be true.” She laughed. Bucky needs to find a way to blush less in her presence because this is like the fourth or fifth time it has happened.

They finished eating their pieces of tart and talking for a while. Y/N decided to go back to the shop, not realizing how much time she spent there. Before leaving, Bucky gave her some more lavender roses.

“Oh, Bucky, you don’t have to.” She protested.

“It’s just to add to the arrangement. I feel like it was missing a few more roses. You’ll be doing me a favor.” He assured. She grabbed the flowers and smelt them before smiling and giving him a small thanks.

Little did she know that lavender Roses mean love at first sight.

They played that little game for weeks, almost 2 months. Y/N would take her lunch break at Bucky’s shop. Feed him some food and pastries that she was experimenting with, and he would give her flowers.

“To put on the counter. Your store deserves fresh flowers every day.” Bucky claimed. But in actuality, all the flowers meant something. The white camellias? He was telling her that he admired her. The amaryllis? That he found you beautiful. The white and purple stocks? A silent plea for bonds of affection from your part. But he couldn’t bring himself to say these things out loud.

Speaking to Y/N in flowers was much easier. Maybe because she didn’t know and couldn’t reject him.

“Bucky, you gotta tell her, man.” Steve would try to reason with him. “She likes you; you like her. Just tell her that you like her or ask her out on a date.”

“You don’t get it, Steve.” Bucky would argue, which led to an entire discussion on how Bucky is being a coward that ended with him telling Steve and Sam to fuck off.

But they were right; it was simple. She has been an absolute doll with him. She doesn’t mind hearing his rants about the new book he read and helped him water his plants. She even bought waterproof labels to put their names on their planters. She even asked (more like demanded) Bucky to send her the pictures of every bouquet and arrangement he made. She loved seen his creations.

And he loved being her test subject. She would bring him new pastries to try. He was her official taste tester. Anything new in the store, Bucky had already tried it in every one of its variations. Y/N would speak to him of all of her special interests and all of her new hobbies. He had even met all her friends, and they loved him.

So why was this so difficult? Bucky groaned while arranging the flowers at the front of the shop.

“What’s got you all groaning and gloomy, Bucky-bear?” Y/N asked him. She looked radiant in her work clothes. Ugh, Bucky had it bad.

“Nothing, j-just thinking.” He nervously replied.

“Don’t overthink. You might over-heat your brain, bubs.” She joked, entering Bucky’s shop. And like the hopeless romantic he is, he followed.

“Soooooooo I have been trying out this new pasta recipe, and you are the only one I trust to give me the truth.” She said, opening the Tupperware she brought. Bucky’s heart fluttered at her words. He felt light-headed; maybe that’s why he couldn’t stop himself from opening his mouth.

“I like you.” He blurted out. He slapped his hand over his mouth. Y/N turned to him, widen eyes, and mouth gaped.

“Bucky, do you mean that? Because if you are playing with me, I will fight you with this.” She warned Bucky, threatening with a spoon.

“I like you a lot. Actually love you. I- that’s what those flowers meant.” Bucky explained. Y/N put down the spoon.

“What flowers?” She asked, in the softest tone he has ever heard her speak in. Bucky turned his gaze to the floor, embarrassed that this was his confession.

“All of them. They all meant love in one form or the other.” He admitted. Y/N stood in front of him and put her hand on his cheek. He felt his heart do backflips.

“What flower means I’m in love with you, Bucky?” She asked, caressing his cheek.

“Maybe red carnations.” He joked, leaning into her touch.

“I’ll ask this handsome florist with a heart of gold to make me a bouquet to give you.” Bucky chuckled while she let out a little giggle.

“I would love a bouquet, but I would much rather have a plum tart from the sexy baker on the store out front.” Y/N hummed.

“I think I can make that happen.” She said, pulling him closer. “Can I kiss you, Bucky?” She asked; Bucky could only nod.

She grabbed his face and pressed her lips against his. Bucky wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer, molding her body against him. Their lips gliding over each other smoothly, as if they were made for each other.

They pulled away to take a breath, and they both had the same dopey smile. Tarts and carnations. Who knew they mixed so well?

[nothereforyou]

Long Story Short, I Survived

Did someone order some angsty Steve x reader that turns into Bucky x reader?

The first morning without Steve beside you, after five years of having him next to you, is like being doused with cold water. One moment you’d been blissfully asleep, warm under the duvet that still smelled of him, and the next--well, reality could be colder than any river of ice. He’d chosen her, chosen to go back to where he was really from. Maybe he was never yours to begin with, maybe you were living on borrowed time, safe in his arms.

Life restarts slowly without him. At first, it’s not much more than eating, sleeping, and doing what you need to survive. Surviving is...you don’t have words for what surviving is after. Steve is still around, hovering outside the apartment you’d once inhabited together. He drinks coffee in the café across from the building, lets himself in once or twice a week to make sure you’re alive and the place hasn’t completely gone to seed. You scream at him the first time, scream we were happy!, insist he should’ve stayed. The bastard ignores you.

Steve keeps cleaning, you keep surviving.

Before long, you can get out of bed. You clean your own damn apartment, but Steve still comes. He sits on the couch you picked out together, looking irritatingly good and unfazed. He looks like an old man but you still ache for him. Your Steve, your handsome Steve who had fucked you on every surface in this apartment, looked like a grandpa you should be taking for a walk in the park. He’s still your Steve, deep down. He’s still the only man who’s ever made you cum and who made you laugh over brunch and who slipped a ring onto your finger and promised---

Was he ever yours to began with?

You can’t leave the apartment, the entrance of the building is so packed with reporters there’s barely room to get through the doors. You hadn’t realized the love of your life leaving you would include reporters, vying for the story of why Captain America left his wife. You wish they’d get the story and let you know why.

You’d been married less than six months when it all went down. A quickie wedding in a chapel that was somehow still open. You kept the photos on the coffee table and didn’t think too hard about what that meant.

Sam comes, takes you to get coffee. He talks about everything and anything, just not Steve, not the one thing you desperately want to talk about. It’s good to see Sam, to see someone who really knew Steve. He tells you about spending time with his sister, Sarah and her sons. You make it through the afternoon without crying, which is an improvement. As he leaves, he gives you a look that can only be described as pitiful. It makes you want to scream and rip apart one of the throw pillows, to scream from the roof tops that you’re okay and it’s not even that big of a deal that he just left, you’re fine, and for the love of fucking G-d, stop talking about it.

They don’t stop talking about it. You keep surviving.

Bucky coming to visit is a shock. You’d met him once or twice before he was dusted and you’d heard about him during the five years he was missing, but you weren’t friends. He stands in the doorway and stares at you, looking like he wants to turn and run. You stare right back at him, waiting for him to make the first move. You both stand there, staring at each other. After what feels like forever, Bucky wordlessly takes a seat at your kitchen table and stays.

It’s nice to have another person in that lonely apartment. Bucky sleeps on the floor in the living room, comes and goes as he pleases. But he’s there and it’s a stability you didn’t know you were missing. After a few weeks, you start going for walks through the neighborhood. The reporters have left, something else has caught their attention for long enough that they’ve left you alone. (Nobody seemed to be bothering Steve, then again, they probably didn’t know what he looked like. According to the general public, he’s on the moon.) It’s nice to get some fresh air and it’s nice to come home to someone besides the plants. You don’t talk, more often than not, you come home and Bucky’s sitting at the table, eating cold beans. But he’s there and it’s nice.

Steve stops coming and you both mourn. Bucky mourns for an almost what could have been and you mourn for the husband you spent all of six months with. It’s during this mourning when you two really find each other. It starts small, you bring Bucky a cup of coffee in the morning and he grunts his thanks. Bucky cooks breakfast before you leave for work at the bookstore down the street. It’s nice, reminiscent of when Steve was there.

Then Sam gives away the shield.

You’re having a movie night when the news about John Walker comes out. In the six months that he’d lived with you, you’d never seen him so angry. Bucky is seething with anger. He gets up and paces, muttering unflattering comments about Sam.

“Bucky? Is...this...did he…?”  Your voice stops him. You sound so small and fragile. You’d seemed so solid and okay that he forgets you’re not. He forgot that your husband left you and your world crumpled right in front of you. And suddenly, he’s angry again, but not at Sam--that’s for another day--he’s angry at Steve in a way he hasn’t been before. How could he leave you? Beautiful you, who’s good, and makes coffee in the mornings, and smells like roses, and would probably look so pretty spread out underneath him. (That last thought is also for another day, when he can afford to think about what it means that he wants you spread out under him.)

And shit, you’re crying.

Bucky stands there in a panic when you start crying. It’s fucking stupid you’re crying, it doesn’t matter who has the shield, it’s not going to bring Steve back into your life, not in the way that matters. But it had felt like things were going to be okay when you knew that it was Sam who was going to get the shield and the title. Sam, who’s good and kind and who won’t let it corrupt him. This John Walker motherfucker is an unknown. He’s not Steve and he’s not Sam and he looks like the world has never told him no. What’s he going to do with all the power?

Bucky pulls you into his chest, lets your angry tears soak into his shirt. He awkwardly pats your back and pets your hair. Once the tears have dried, it makes you giggle how uncomfortable he is with comforting someone. Bucky smiles down at you, a heart breaking smile that’s too much like Steve’s but also not enough like Steve’s and makes your stomach flip a little, which makes you start crying all over again. After 20 minutes of crying and awkward patting, Bucky scoops you up and carries you to your bed. He lays with you all night, letting you cry and then holding you while you sleep.

It’s his first night in a bed (his first night with a woman, his brain helpfully adds) in...he doesn’t know how long. The thought makes him flee like the coward he is.

You wake up and Bucky’s gone. There’s a note on the table, says he went to ask Sam what this is all about. A knock interrupts your breakfast preparations. “Buck, you don’t have to--” It’s not Bucky, it’s three men in suits, and one John Walker, bearing flowers. You almost punch him, scream that he’s not Captain America and never will be. John thrusts the flowers at you and marches into the apartment as if he owns it. Before you can toss him out on his ass, one of the suits is explaining they have a plan for you and, unless you want them to recall certain activities you’d been apart of. Activities that would make you a war criminal. Activities that would send you to prison for decades.

So you, Captain America’s (ex?)wife, publicly become John Walker’s strongest supporter and girlfriend. The official story is that you’d met during the interviews (if there were interviews for the new Captain America, they hadn’t included you in them), and fallen in love at first sight. You were taking it slow, out of respect for your husband who was still out there somewhere (the moon, maybe?), but you were very much madly in love. Bucky and Sam come home from...wherever they’d been and find you cuddled up to their enemy. Every time John smiles and calls you kitten, every time you have to kiss him, you want to punch him in that stupid face of his.

The police station is a fucking mess. Bucky’s been arrested, the police are being racist and fucking with Sam, and to top it all off, John’s the one who frees Bucky. You’ve known Bucky long enough to know how much this pisses him off and then he spots you and his jaw clenches even harder. You have to hold yourself back from running over to him and explaining what happened. You desperately want to tell him that it’s not what it looks like, that you’re not wearing a stupid, flimsy sundress that brings out John’s eyes because you want to, someone dressed you and this is so you don’t go to prison. A quiet voice reminds you that maybe going to prison for a long time would be worth it if you never had to see that look on his face again. Words are exchanged, Bucky and Sam walk off, John warns them to “stay the hell out of his way”, which doesn’t sound as cool as he thinks it does.

You go home, home to the apartment where Bucky is. He’s at the kitchen table, eating cold beans again. There’s a bag by his feet (when had he collected enough things to have a bag?) and you realize he’s leaving. He’s so mad about Walker that he’s leaving, like Steve did.

“Don’t leave.” Your voice is small in the quiet, dim apartment. “Just...stay. Even if you don’t talk to me, just don’t leave.” “I’m going to talk to Zemo. You stay here with Walker.” Before you can think, before you really consider what it means if you do this, you surge forward and kiss him.

You stand in the kitchen, kissing for a few moments before Bucky pulls away. He stares down at you, looking wild and scared, before turning and walking out the door.

[stressedoutcanary]

Family Matters - Batfamily x Reader

Summary: A surprise birthday party and Batfamily being chaotic.

“That's it Dick just a little to the right...No the other right...No! Not there you goofus! Just...Just get down from the chandelier before it comes crashing down on the rest of us and For God's Sake let Duke handle the ribbons before you somehow strangle yourself with them”

Warnings ⚠️: Fluff, lots of it, angst because I can’t help myself, Reader has got some parental issues. Hurt/Comfort.

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: I wanted some good dad Bruce content so I did it myself. Also I might have been influenced by a post I made a while back about Bruce and his children. I haven't used reader's pronouns anywhere so it's kinda gender neutral.

I don’t know where I was going with this, my imagines are often like a train derailed from its track but I think it’s fine. So Enjoy ;)  

•°•°•°•°

"Focus (Y/S/N), don't jump in in blind, assessing what action your opponent is about to undertake and countering it out before they can complete that action, this is the key lesson for you today", Batman's commanding voice echoed in the enclosed area of the batcave as he observed you attempting to roundhouse kick the boy in front of you. It was rather rashly executed with the hope of knocking him down which, for obvious reasons, only ended up with your leg connecting with nothing but thin air.

'Damn he is fast when he actually tries.'

"Easy for you to say Old Man! You aren't the one dancing with Mister Duckboy, the teen wonder over here!", you exclaimed, panting as your chest heaved from the exertion.

"Duckboy?!", Tim looked near scandalized as you grinned in return, stealing a glance towards the giggling crowd gathered near the stairs.

Everyone was already in the cave, it was a rare occurrence, it happened only when the issues of upmost importance were being discussed. Today was one of those days; The planning of Alfred Pennyworth's surprise birthday party.

However things usually went a lot less violent, this day every year. The sparring session this year was the result of you messing up, real bad while on patrol last night and since you were around the same age as Tim, he was found to be the most appropriate partner for it. The only drawback was that he had a staff in his hands while your weapons were confiscated, because in Bruce's words 'you rely on them too much'. You were already tired and Tim had a huge advantage over you, if you wanted to win this match you had to be quick and efficient at the same time.

Distracting Tim by your comment allowed you to have an opening, gathering all your strength you went in for a forward strike. Unfortunately he was more than ready to take you on, he crouched down, narrowly missing your punch then proceeded to swipe your legs off of the ground with his bo staff making you fall butt first on the floor.

"Congratulations you've managed to hurt both my ass and my ego, Timbers", You said laying back on the ground, hands and legs spread out and instead of helping you up, Tim joined you on the floor sitting next to you. You gave him a look that was equivalent to 'next time I get the chance, I am going to push you off a roof'.

"Your skills need improvement", Bruce said in his monotonous tone as you grunted knowing that a full ass lecture was gonna follow, but before he could get another word out, Jason chimed in with a statement no one ever expected to hear from him,"You know (Y/N), he's not wrong in fact I think the old man's actually got a point."

Jaws dropped to floor, Tim looked like he just saw a ghost, Dick who was standing near Barbara pinched himself to see whether he was dreaming or not, Damian snapped his neck up from where he was sharpening his katana, even Titus and Ace perked their heads up at the sudden silence that settled over the place. Barbara, Cass, Duke and Steph looked equally shocked.

"Before you all get any ideas, what I'm trying to say is you better pay attention because B over here won't be able to save your ass, 'cause if you slack off the next thing you know you would be in a warehouse with a maniac, getting blown to bits", Jason looked at Bruce with accusing eyes.

'And here I thought he was finally going to say something sensible', you thought to yourself as he continued,

"Take it from someone who has had that experience, you guys remember right? The fact that I--"

"Died, we know!!", everyone groaned at the same time and Bruce looked like he had to physically restrain himself from faceplaming.

"Okay! Guys how about we go ahead and do the thing we all actually came here to do instead of... whatever this conversation was", you suggested, getting up and patting the dust off your clothes.

"Well then someone has got to ask the important question here", Barbara looked around as she worded her sentence,"who is going to be the one to keep Alfred busy while we get everything ready?"

Once again the cave went silent. For a whole bunch of detectives, you all were very, very scared of Alfred, including Bruce even though he will never admit it, lying to The old-butler-cum-grandpa and making random excuses for the whole 3 hours was a thought dreadful enough to make all of you exchange petrified glances at each other hoping someone would step forward to do the job.

"I'll do it", dick raised his hand.

"NO!", everyone snapped and Dick's head tilted with a pout.

"You are good at doing a lot of stuff boy wonder, hiding things from Alfred isn't one of them", Barbara comforted Dick as Damian stepped up next.

"*tt* Since none of you imbeciles have the courage or the ability to do it. I shall be the one to handle Pennyworth. Gordon, Cain and Titus, I will require your assistance", Damian spoke or rather commanded as he went up the stairs, followed by the group he chose.

"Don't mess this up for us, you gremlin!"

"Tim!", you lightly jabbed him in the side with your elbow.

"Ow! What?"

"Be nice", you narrowed your eyes and he understood you were being serious.

"Fine I'll try, but don't blame me if he starts something", Tim shrugged carelessly. You shook your head and let out an audible sigh as you followed everyone else up towards the manor.

•°•°

"That's it Dick just a little to the right...No the other right...No! Not there you goofus! Just...Just get down from the chandelier before it comes crashing down on the rest of us and For God's Sake let Duke handle the ribbons before you somehow strangle yourself with them", you eyed him worriedly.

"Oh come (Y/N) it'll be fine!", the cheerfulness in his voice made you cock an eyebrow at him from below. Duke slid in beside you.

"10 bucks says he will somehow fall within the next hour"

"Oh Duke you should know better, 20 says he'll fall within 30 minutes", you turned towards him with an evil smile.

"What are you both talking about down there?"

"NOTHING!", you both said in unison on which Dick gave you a confused look.

"Oh Hey look Steph needs my help with the cake so, see ya!", you quickly moved to the other side of the room checking in with Stephanie and Tim. She gave you a thumbs up to signal that everything was going according to plan and the place was almost ready. Everyone was laughing, bickering, having fun, it was all very rare and seeing it, a warm feeling spread throughout you.

You smiled to yourself for a moment but it faltered and a frown pulled up at your lips, a sorrowful thought crossed your mind, something you always kept buried deep down. Looking around and seeing as nobody needed your help at the moment you decided to slip out of the chaos, taking slow steps towards the patio to clear your head.

•°•°

Leaning against the railing you thought back to how you left your house this morning telling your mother that you are going to stay at your friend's place for a while and how she just waved her hand at that, not even questioning you anymore. Your mind was completely elsewhere, despite the awe-inspiring dense forest right in front of you, your eyes were lost in space.

You registered, a bit too late, the presence of someone standing beside you.

"It is a nice view, but something tells me that's not what brought to out here, away from everyone else"

"Careful there Brucie or people might think that you are actually capable of some emotions which happen include caring for people", you retorted back at him. It was always a sort of defense mechanism for you, whenever you felt exposed you countered it with snarky remark.

You closed your eyes hoping that Bruce would just walk away. But he didn't. He stayed there.

Bruce leaned on the railing beside you and waited. You took a deep breath, contemplating you next move carefully.

"...Look It's really silly so can we drop it?", you whispered wondering why in the world would Bruce of all people, care about your feelings.

"Talk to me (Y/N). I can tell when something is bothering you, I may not be your father, but you are my family.", unlike usual, his voice was gentle and genuine when he spoke to you.

"I am really not a fan of surprise birthdays", you stated, starting off vaguely.

"And why is that?"

"Because I...It's silly but this one time I spent a whole week working on a birthday gift for my mom, it was like a craft pop up box which had multiple photos of us together, I made that from scratch! everything in it I made that, I worked hard for it, I did it out of love but when I gave her that surprise gift you know what she said Bruce! She said that I wasted my time that she would've been much happier if I had focused on my studies, she never even once said that she liked it and I--", you looked at him with tears brimming in your eyes, threatening to spill.

"I don't know Bruce, it-it just makes me feel sad you know? every little thing reminds me that my mother doesn’t seem to love me anymore. There is this constant thought in my mind that no one cares about me, about what I do for them and I don’t know what to do with a thought like that."

"That's not true, look around you kiddo, you are surrounded by people who would do anything for you, who love you from the bottom of their hearts", Bruce finally looked at you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"That's the thing! I am not an orphan!", you blurted out and Bruce looked more confused than ever.

"I'm aware"

"No! No you are not. I am not one of those kids you picked up from somewhere, I don't live here, Like I am sure you people aren't even sane, hell! you all make up the most dysfunctional family I have ever seen! I don’t belong here, you people have no reason to care about", Bruce gave you a sideways look, slightly chuckling at your sudden description of the people in the manor.

"But I still love everyone, my mom, you, every dumbass inside the manor right now, no matter much pain they cause me and I don't get why", this time when he looked at you, you didn't look like the vigilante who sucker punched The Riddler in the face last night, you looked like a scared little kid who is lost.

Bruce stood up straight and wrapped you in a hug. Something you never expected to happen in a million years. The shocked settled in after a bit and you wrapped your hands around him, burying your face in his chest.

"The people we love are still people at the end of the day. They act out, and sometimes they let us down, hurt us even, but that doesn't mean we stop loving them. For every bad memory, there will always be a good one that will get you through it. I promise you that (Y/N)", Bruce pulled away and gave you a warm smile. You couldn't help but smile back, your face matching his.

"Okay who are you and what have you done with Bruce Wayne? because I don't recognize this man who is full of emotions and on top of that, is giving free hugs right now", you broke into a grin, making Bruce's face go back to the stoic version.

"If you tell anyone, I will deny it"

"Sure you will"

Suddenly a clattering sound came from the hall, alerting you both. This, however, was followed by a 'I'm okay!' By the one Dick Grayson, which in turn was followed by Duke's 'Oh no!'

"Any idea what that was about?", Bruce inquired raising an eyebrow as you burst out laughing.

"That, you big softie, was the sound of me getting my 20 dollars, now let's get back before they destroy everything."

•°•°

You and Bruce entered back into the hall, everyone was gathered around waiting for Damian and his group to signal the beloved butler's arrival. You stood next to Tim as Jason moved towards the switches to turn off the lights.

"Okay I'll bite why are you covered in frosting before the party even started?"

"Steph", Tim replied, too tired to elaborate, leaving you giggling.

Barbara, Cass and Damian rushed through the door, looking close to terrified, with Titus tagging along.

"He is here, HIDE!", Damian said quickly closing the doors.

After a few moments, the door creaked open and Alfred's voice came through, "Master Damian, you and I will have words for what you did to-- Oh my", he was stuck to his position at the door, too shocked to say anything more after looking at the decorations and bunch gathered around an enormous cake.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALFRED!!", you all exclaimed with extreme excitement.

As the party went on you noticed that there was, in fact, a broken chandelier broomed to the side, later on there were a few not-at-all-safe stunts performed by the boys, some really bad puns made by Dick, all sorts of shenanigans by the others and cake, lots of cake. You looked around, everyone was busy doing something but now you knew Bruce was right:

You have one hell of a family, original, found or otherwise. And you love them all no matter what.

°•°•°•°•

Tags: @thesesickfics-justmakemesick

[underpassgraffiti]

woke up in a bad place

buck-centric + buck/eddie | 3.3k / complete | ao3

buck is out of painkillers, a job, and gas. figures that the one day he decides to solve two of those problems ends with him in the middle of a gun fight in a gas station.

cw: implied medication abuse, gun violence, mostly canon-compliant depression, blood.

~

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“There was a robbery—”

Emergency. Location. Stay calm.

“—cashier was shot, need an ambulance—”

Location. Location. Stay calm.

“Wait, Evan? Is that you?”

//

His head fucking hurts.

The sun isn’t up yet; it’s dark enough in the room that opening his eyes is less of a battle and more of a nuisance, and Buck reaches for his phone out of habit. 5:53 AM. No reason to get up this early, not anymore, and yet falling asleep again won’t be possible. He can’t remember any nightmares this time, but the tremors in the joints of his fingers tell a different story.

Nausea builds in the back of his throat. His temples are throbbing. It’s one of those days.

6:01 AM.

Eight minutes staring at his screen, Buck heaves a sigh and cracks open the drawer of his nightstand, ruffling through the junk until he finds the bottle of Excedrin. Beat it before it hits. Three pills—

Except the bottle is fucking empty because he’s been taking them like candy for two weeks, and he’s thumbed away every reminder on his phone to buy more with a promise of I’ll do it tomorrow.

“Fuck,” he breathes, throwing the bottle on the floor and scrubbing a hand down his face. It’s Tuesday—no, Wednesday. It’s Wednesday, which means the convenience store two blocks over will be open in a half an hour, and he’s already awake. Can’t sleep.

No missed calls. No texts since Saturday.

Misery as company, Buck climbs out of bed, finds a clean-ish pair of sweatpants, an old LAFD sweatshirt, and his keys. His wallet is harder to find; for some reason, it’s in the fridge, and he’s pretty sure he traded it with a bottle of Gatorade two days ago.

He’ll need to do a sweep of his place later. Too many take-out cartons. His fucking wallet was in the fridge.

For now, he heads out the door, locks it behind him, giving an awkward wave to Erin down the hall. The guy’s been an acquaintance the last month or so, offering a shoulder to scream on, and Buck is ashamed to admit that he’s spent more than one night drunk out of his mind in Erin’s apartment waxing poetic about the long lost days of the only thing in his life that ever mattered.

(“Dude, you’re fucking crazy,” he had said, and Buck had laughed, seven beers in, said, “Man, I’m on blood thinners and drinking beer. Fuck off.”)

Now, Erin looks skittish in his Queen t-shirt, a gift from his girlfriend that’s been staying with him, and escapes into his apartment.

Whatever. Buck needs Excedrin, and probably coffee.

No one else is up at this hour; the ginger cat that loiters the building from dusk to dawn is snoozing by the front steps, and Buck gives her a quick scratch under the chin, earning a small mewl. At least someone is happy to see him these days.

By the time he’s in his jeep and switching on the ignition, another blurry memory smacks him: he hasn’t filled the tank in days. The needle is hovering dangerously close to E, and it’ll get him there and back on a prayer, but Buck has learned that playing games with the universe never ends well.

Fuck it, he thinks bitterly, pulling out of the lot and turning onto the street.

His head hasn’t stopped pounding since the unfortunate mistake of waking up.

//

The needle is mocking him.

Back and forth. Never quite hitting E, but his anxiety is battling his apathy, and Buck ends up turning into the gas station off East, shoving the pump in with a bit more force than necessary. It’s self-serve, but even for nearing seven in the morning, the lot is weirdly empty; it’s a liminal space, the quietness of a gas station when the sunrise is struggling, and rain clouds are grey on the horizon. LA doesn’t get rain often.

Once the meter hits the 20 mark, Buck releases the pump and hooks it back up, pocketing his keys to head inside. The cashier gives a tired nod, and Buck waves back; he might be miserable as shit, but his manners haven’t changed.

(He misses the public. Helping people. Out here. He had meaning; now he has nothing.)

“What pump?” the cashier asks, a fifty-something man who looks friendly enough, and Buck hasn’t had pleasant company since Freddie fucking Costas.

“Two,” he replies, hates how cracked his voice comes out. “Even twenty bucks. Do you carry Excedrin?”

The cashier’s smile is sympathetic, and Buck is well-aware that he looks like shit. He’s lost weight, some muscle mass; keeping up with physical therapy kept him in shape, but warfarin drains his energy and he quit—the fuck is the point?

“Pharmacy section is in the back.” The smile morphs into something concerned, watchful. “Maybe get some protein shakes, too.”

Buck’s startled laugh is genuine. Jesus.

He taps the counter twice before making his way to the designated area, pausing at the candy section. He’s been living off of take-out and the few meals Eddie drops by from his abuela, but his worst fears are coming true: without Buck being at the station, they’re drifting from him. They have their own shit to deal with. Don’t stop by much anymore.

Even Maddie is scarce these days.

The package of Skittles ends up in his hands, and he grabs a second on the very slim chance he sees Christopher any time soon, though the thought of Chris seeing him like this is horrifying. He showered yesterday, but it’s been four days since his hair’s seen any kind of shampoo.

(“Man, I think you’re depressed,” Erin told him. Buck flipped him off.)

Two bottles of generic migraine medication added to his stash, he makes one more stop by the coolers, reaching in for a Gatorade. There’s someone yelling in the front of the store, and the momentary whiplash of the call over a year ago to the robbery of the Gas ‘N’ Sip throws him for a loop.

The universe can’t hate him that much.

“Open the drawer!”

For fuck’s sake.

Buck crouches to the ground, hiding behind the end of the aisle, his collection placed quietly on one the shelves. He hasn’t been noticed; peeking around, the man at the front has a fucking gun, because of course, and the barrel is on the cashier’s forehead.

His phone is in his jeep.

Man with a gun. Blood thinners. Cashier has no weapon in sight.

The cashier’s eyes meet his for half a second, but he’s scared, Buck can see that. Definitely no weapon, then. A gas station like this is unlikely to have a panic button, and the gunman is waving the gun in his face. His own face is hidden in a stupid mask. Why not?

“Open it, empty it, right fucking now!”

There’s an edge to that voice. Familiar, just slightly, but something else—high, maybe. It’s hard to do something like this with a clear mind, Buck has learned, and from his vantage point, he doesn’t have a lot of options. Carefully, he starts crawling along the floor, out of sight behind the gunman, barely in sight of the cashier.

“Move fucking faster, Jesus, do I look like I have time for this?”

They’re running out of time. If Buck dies in a fucking gas station, Maddie will kill him herself, but the cashier is his priority and the gunman is unhinged and Buck is—

“I will pull this fucking trigger—”

Something crashes. A bottle hitting the floor—the Gatorade must’ve rolled off the shelf. Buck doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, as the gunman shifts in the silence, and he’s going to die on a dirty floor in a gas station after surviving a fucking fire truck.

The cashier lunges under the counter, grabs his own gun—okay, Buck miscalculated—and now the two of them are staring down each other, silver versus silver, and Buck has heard the saying don’t bring a knife to a gun fight, but he’s come this far. Pushes himself off his knees, uses the momentum to launch himself at the gunman to wrap his arm around a sweaty neck.

Buck has the height on the guy, but not the muscle. The strength, maybe. He should’ve kept up with his routines.

“Call 911!” he yells, struggling against the guy’s weight, but an elbow flies up and catches his nose, a crunch that echoes. Pain blossoms before he registers the blood pooling in his mouth. Compartmentalize. He doesn’t let go, feels another elbow jab somewhere in the vicinity of his ribs—higher risk of internal bleeding—and Buck’s choking on his own blood trying to choke this asshole.

Who robs a gas station at seven in the morning? he wonders, exactly one second before a gunshot goes off, and he’s thrown off to the floor. Sharp, sudden pain shoots up his elbow where he’s landed, and he spits out the shit in his mouth, tries to breathe.

“Who the fuck is this? You said the store was fucking empty—”

A new, higher voice—god, who needs two people to rob a gas station at seven in the morning—and Buck groans, tries to blink the blood and tears out of his eyes, but rough hands grab his hips and flip him over onto his back.

“Shit man, you should’ve stayed hidden,” the gunman says.

Oh. Fuck.

“Eri—” A cough, a hand fisted in his shirt, and Buck tries to slap it away. “Erin, wha’ the fuck.”

No wonder he looked so skittish this morning. He’s wearing the Queen shirt. The new person must be his girlfriend. What are the odds? Of course, when it comes to Buck, the odds don’t seem to matter.

“Like I said, should’ve stayed hidden,” Erin mutters, sounding genuinely regretful as he stands up, cocking the gun directly in Buck’s face, and he’s going to die to a not-quite-friend from his apartment building who he’s been drunk with in his worst moments. In a gas station. While it’s being robbed, by said not-friend, with his girlfriend. He’s going to be shot by this asshole.

He tries, “Erin, C’mon—" but the gun barely wavers, and Erin says, “I’m sorry, Buckley,” and yeah, he’s going to die. Hopefully the cashier called 911 and he’s the only casualty.

The gun goes off—

Erin falls forward, and Buck has a split second to roll to the side, avoiding an entire body on his, and another gunshot goes off, and Buck’s head is spinning from the blood that won’t stop, the ringing of bullets, and someone is screaming his name. The only one who knew his name is dead. Pretty sure Erin is dead.

“Hey, hey,” the cashier is saying, and Buck tries to stand, slips to his hands and knees, a puddle of blood under him. Not his. A little of his, but mostly Erin’s. “S’okay, kid, try’na… call.”

Right. Is anyone not injured in here? He’s the first responder, even if he quit, and Buck sucks it the fuck up, manages to stand, walks on unsteady legs to the counter where the cashier has slumped against it. There’s blood in an awful pattern on his shirt, a hole through it: he’s been shot. Right in the abdomen. A phone beside him.

Use it, he thinks. Fuck.

Blood—his?—smears on the screen, and Buck holds it up to the man, says, “Need to unlock,” and the cashier does it weakly. He’s bleeding out, and Buck uses his free hand to press. Hard. A noise of pain means life.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

He knows the dispatcher. Isn’t sure why.

“There was a robbery—”

Emergency. Location. Stay calm; he’s fucking this up so bad. Maddie would be so disappointed.

“—need your location. Did you say robbery? Is anyone hurt?”

Location. Location. He rattles it off, the name of the station, says, “Gunshot wound, no exit, abdomen. Cashier. There were two robbers?”

“Okay, can you tell me their condition?”

Location. Blood. Everywhere.

“I – I think they’re dead?”

“Wait, Evan? Is that you?”

He knows the dispatcher.

“M-Maddie?”

“Oh my god, Evan? Are you injured? Help is two minutes out, okay?”

Honestly, he should stay on the line; Maddie will yell at him later, but holding up his arm is exhausting, so he tosses the phone to the side and has both hands free to pressurize the gunshot wound. The cashier is hissing. Pain is good.

“Pain is good,” he mutters, wiping his nose on his bicep awkwardly, coughing in ouch-shit-PAIN when it jostles the bone. It won’t stop bleeding, and while pain is a great reminder they’re both alive, the lack of clotting isn’t. Blood thinners.

“Kid, you’re… s’everywhere.”

Buck blinks once, twice, slow and syrupy, manages a weak, “Thinners. It’s… warfarin.”

His mouth is thick and cottony and gross and all he can taste is copper. All he wanted was painkillers and Gatorade.

Sirens are getting closer, and the red-blue lights flicker through the windows. It’ll be a station response and cops. He’d ask himself what are the odds of it being the 118 and Athena, but he’s never asking himself about odds again.

The door slams open. Buck grimaces at the sudden onslaught of noise from the outside as a loud voice calls out, “LAPD, HANDS UP.”

“Kinda can’t,” he breathes out, and the three guns that had been used are scattered anyway. “Holdin’ in blood here.”

“Buck?”

“Hi, ‘Thena.” He’s already accepted it. The cashier mirrors his grimace in sympathy, especially when the door slams again and a myriad of things happen in rapid succession.

“Jesus Christ, only you—”

“Buck, honey, let go, we got this—”

“—the blood thinners, he’s going to bleed out at this rate—”

“Who shot them? What the hell happened here?”

“Buck, buddy, I got you.”

Someone jostles him onto a gurney, but only after the cashier goes first. He thinks, maybe, he demanded that, if the look on Chimney’s face is anything to go by. Him and Hen are shearing off his sweatshirt, which he’ll mourn later, and Buck hisses through clenched teeth when gauze is shoved into his nose and the oxygen mask settles over his mouth.

“I know, Buckaroo,” Chimney tells him, sympathetic and worried all at once. “They’ll set your nose at the hospital. Got a morphine drip waiting for you in the ambulance.”

“F’k hospital,” he groans, and Hen snorts at him. Rude.

Chimney leaves him for the driver’s seat, and Hen stays behind his head, but before the door slams shut, someone else climbs in. Calls out a hurried I’ll keep you updated.

A good kind of familiar.

“He stable?” Eddie asks, and Buck is—listen, he’s kept it together this whole fucking time, since he woke up to a quiet phone and then ended up in the middle of a fucking robbery. He figures he’s allowed a bit of a breakdown, and he chokes on a strangled laugh that sounds more of a sob, especially between the gauze in his nose and the mask.

Hen pets his hair; Eddie rests one hand on his hip, leans above him, gently lifts the mask to drop it around Buck’s neck. His fingers roam the curve of Buck’s jaw, seeking something amidst the drying and dried blood, and the touch is so fucking soft, Buck can’t stop crying.

“Jus’ wanted ‘cedrin an’ ‘atorade.” He closes his eyes, and there’s no bullet in his brain or between his eyes. “F’k’in Erin.”

Before he passes the fuck out, he hears Eddie mutter, “Who the hell is Erin?”

//

Waking up in the hospital has no fanfare anymore.

It’s a checklist: all of his limbs are in place, can be moved, he can breathe, catalogue where the wires and IVs are; the pain is localized to his ribs and face, though the aftereffects of a concussion don’t seem to be clinging to him this time around.

“Hey,” Eddie murmurs, and Buck opens and closes his eyes a few times, trying to clear out the grit. “Gave us all a fucking scare, man.”

A finger taps his cheek, an old routine from six months ago, and Buck cracks his lips open as Eddie places an ice chip on tongue. The cold melting into liquid brings some life back into his throat, and god, he needed that.

Swallowing, he manages, “Didn’t ask to get robbed.”

“No, but only you could end up in the one place that gets held up.”

Buck offers a shrug, though the regret is immediate when his whole body twitches with anger. He says, “First time I left my apartment in days. S’a sign.”

It was supposed to be a joke, but the honesty behind it is a little too raw; Eddie’s frown is disapproving, self-loathing and concerned. Buck doesn’t have the energy to deal with it—or any of them, really—and he wants to get out of here.

“Buck—”

“When am I free?”

Eddie sighs, a heavy exhale as he drags his hands down his face, before clapping them together to lean forward in his chair. If Buck looks closer, Eddie hasn’t slept well either, but none of them understand what the fuck Buck’s feeling. Haven’t really asked. Not lately. Easier to ignore what’s under the surface.

“I think we need to talk,” Eddie says instead, and Buck waves the non-IV hand, eyes rolling in annoyance.

“I think I need to get the fuck out of here, Eddie.” The hospital, despite his history this past year, is not a second home. “Give me a time.”

The same non-IV hand is clasped between two strong, calloused ones. Hard, but escapable.

“You have a broken nose, and lost a lot of fucking blood on scene. You took a blow to the ribs hard enough to crack two. You’re lucky you don’t have internal bleeding. On top of that—no, shut up.”

Buck snaps his jaw shut, Eddie’s eyes blazing with a worry Buck hasn’t seen since he threw a clot.

“You’re dehydrated. The amount of fucking aspirin in your system? What are you doing, Buck?”

“Why do you care—”

“Of course I fucking care, Jesus.”

Always a back and forth with them lately. Buck isn’t immune to his own health; he’s a textbook case of depression, of isolation, hasn’t changed his sheets in over three weeks, isn’t sure when he had a meal that was cooked with his own two hands.

Can’t say, “Hey, I’m really fucking sad because I lost the only thing that gave my life meaning,” because when he tried, Bobby had just shook his head and looked at him the way Buck has always feared.

He spent twenty years as a ghost. Is a ghost again.

“Eddie,” he mutters, a little brokenly, squeezing his eyes closed to fight off the returning headache. Whatever painkillers they have him on, it’s a low dose. “Eddie, I’m tired, okay? I’m just… tired.”

Eddie, to his credit, doesn’t let go of Buck’s hand, is holding it like a lifeline. They’re blurring a few rules here. Can’t cross anymore with one man broken and angry in death, and the other broken and miserable in life.

“You’re not doing this alone,” Eddie says, a promise Buck isn’t sure either of them can keep. “Not anymore.”

“Until you get sick of this again.” Not malicious. Buck’s throat aches with everything he hasn’t allowed himself to feel in the weeks he’s been on the blood thinners. Since he fell apart in Athena’s backyard and no one could put him back together. “I don’t know who the fuck I am anymore, Eddie.”

Eddie shrugs, freeing a hand to brush dirty curls off Buck’s forehead, and he tells him, “I know who you are to me. We’ll go from there.”

“That might not be enough.”

I might not be enough, he doesn’t say. Can’t fix everyone.

Eddie just cards gentle fingers through his hair, saying nothing about the days it’s been since he’s last washed, or the red-rimmed eyes, or how Buck’s body is nothing but tremors from adrenaline and crashing.

He falls asleep to Eddie’s points of contact on his skin.

[madamewriterofwrongs]

Soft Eddie thought: the first time he mentions Buck in passing as 'my husband' and then all of a sudden it hits him for the first time that, holy shit, he has a *husband*! And either tears up a little or can't stop smiling.

Hey Nonny, I hope you see this, I know it’s been awhile. 

Subconsciously Drawn Together

911/Buddie

Eddie would never call what he feels a crush – after all, he’s a grown adult who hasn’t had a crush on anyone since Jenny Rodriguez broke his heart in eighth grade by picking Eugene as her lab partner instead of him. (Coincidentally, they are both married to someone named Makayla and neither of them lived outside of Texas for more than a few months).

He always thought that would be him. Not, married to Jenny or Eugene (or either Makayla for that matter), but there was a part of him that knew he was destined to live a quiet life. Marriage, children, maybe a dog and a white picket fence if they wanted to be really cliched. And he was okay with that – he really was. For Eddie, there was no other life than the one laid out for him.

Going to war didn’t change that. A poor country boy joining the military to provide for his pregnant wife back home? Even pulp fiction novelists thought it was too obvious. But, again, he never minded living an uninteresting life. Not everyone was destined for adventure and drama. Most people were made to get through the day.

Even when the nightmares came and he struggled to keep his family together, it just seemed like the next chapter in his boring novelization of a life. Everyone had marital troubles after coming home, everyone had bad dreams and phantom pains. Everyone worried where the money would come from to support their family. Everyone snuck into their son’s room to watch him sleep because they were afraid to admit that they’d forgotten what he looked like while he was away. Everyone felt guilt and shame and fear and regret. It was a part of life.

And then his wife left and his parents offered to take Christopher and for one moment, the thought crossed his mind. Could he let his son go (be with people who could stay at home and give him the care he needed)? Could he forget about Shannon and move somewhere else? Could he start over (relive his 20s in the carefree manner he’d seen others struggling to find)? Could he run away again and make it stick this time?

By the end of the week, he and Christopher were packed into his truck and headed to Los Angeles.

It didn’t feel like running away when he was mumbling his way through the Frozen soundtrack or listening to his son talk about his old school’s pet turtle that he’ll miss (and wonder what kind of pets the kids in Los Angeles got to have). It didn’t feel like running away then. It felt like they were running towards something.

Running towards a new life, of sorts, as it turned out. Sure, he still dealt with his parents’ criticism, and Shannon came back into their lives and for a moment, it felt like she’d never left him. But in LA, he had a purpose, he had freedom. For the first time in a long time, Eddie looked forward to opening his door in the mornings; for the first time in a long time, he never knew exactly what to expect, and LA was full of surprises.

The biggest surprise of all was named Evan Buckley.

Buck was a lot of things: a friend, a skilled firefighter, endearingly enthusiastic, subtle as a brick, and the first person outside of his real family that he called ‘family’ and truly meant it. He loved the men and women he served with in Afghanistan, but the moment they departed at the airport, he lost that connection. Joining the 118 had been a way to get that back and it had worked out fantastically. He had sports fanatics to cheer with, parents of blended families to vent with, people who knew his past and loved him despite it all.

Eddie never told anyone (except his therapist who never commented on it, but made a face that said they’d circle back to it at a later date), but he felt as though he’d known Buck for years. Once the man opened up to him, the trust he felt was strong, and the way he took an instant affection to Christopher made it easy to let this man into his life.

Within less than a year of joining the LA Fire Department however, his world imploded.

Or exploded, actually. First Shannon died, then Buck was injured, then his son was nearly taken by a natural disaster and he didn’t even know it. He spent so much time after that trying to put the pieces back together. For all the things he’d assumed his life would be – a wife and kid and a white picket fence – the only thing he had left was a son now dealing with immense trauma for such a young child to handle. And he had Buck (who was so bright and eager to please that one might describe him as a puppy at times). Nothing of his life had turned out the way it was meant to.

Suddenly, a year had passed since Shannon’s death and his life was still an unrecognizable sort of decagon shape instead of the standard cookie cutter circle. But none of that mattered because he was staring into bright brown eyes and a luminescent smile that was telling him that he was doing a wonderful job of raising Christopher on his own.

Others had been trying to tell him that for years (never the ones whose opinion meant to world to him, but he was learning to let that go) but that beautiful face was so sincere that he forgot himself. He forgot that he was a widow with a grieving son. He forgot the fear and regret that went along with the phantom pains when the weather turned cold. He forgot that he had failed in his ambition to live an entirely ordinary life. For a moment he thought: ‘when she smiles at me, I feel happy’.

He wanted to feel that way again.

There were several reasons that things just wouldn’t work out with Ana. For one: she was Christopher’s teacher, and even if it wasn’t against the rules, it still felt wrong. Two: he’d seen the moment she thought differently about him after he yelled at her at school. She was too professional and kind to say anything but even if it was possible, she was definitely no longer interested. The third reason was that he was a firefighter who worked insane hours and when he wasn’t at work, he was home with his son. There wasn’t exactly a lot of time for dating. Fourth: she wasn’t Buck.

That thought had been the one that kept him up at night. It had come to him while he stood in the shower, recounting his day, wondering how long he had until it would be time to pick up Christopher from school. He wasn’t feeling overly ambitious so he figured spaghetti and meatballs would be perfect for supper. He wondered what it would be like to cook for someone who wasn’t ten years old. Someone he could cook beside without having to keep a constant eye. There were times (in the early days with Shannon) where the two of them would cook together, do laundry, clean, do all the domestic things side by side. She had been insistent that they both learn to care for the house that they shared and he was happy to stand beside her in all things.

Remember to throw Buck’s gym clothes in the laundry next time he comes over. He keeps forgetting to throw them in his basket.

A simple little thought, really. He’d thought it before. His friend would leave his gym bag by the door for work and forget to empty it out when he went to do laundry. It was unlikely that anyone other than Eddie noticed the state of Buck’s clothes, but he’d been paying closer attention to him lately. Like how after the train derailment, his smile seemed easier; his shoulders relaxed more often – especially when he was with the 118 or Christopher. Buck seemed happy now that he’d gotten his closure from Abby.

He deserves to be happy. He makes me feel happy.

Buck did make him feel happy. The way he interacted with Christopher, the way he entrusted his son to this man without a second thought. But even when Christopher wasn’t around, Eddie enjoyed Buck’s company. Going to baseball games (dragging him, more like), sitting together when the crew went out for drinks after work. With Buck, he felt…

Safe.

Which wasn’t surprising, really. Buck was a kind man. Sweet and thoughtful. He put other’s first – just like Eddie does, he could hear Frank’s voice in his mind – and cared deeply about the people in his life. Not to mention, he was physically a very strong figure. In some other life, he and Buck met on the wrestling circuit but never fought. Him: with his MMA, and Buck: with his Greco-Roman Wrestling. With those broad shoulders and firm arms, he wouldn’t mind being pulled into a stronghold once or twice.

He knew Buck was conventionally attractive from the day they met. There was no hiding the sharp blue eyes or curly blond hair and rounded jaw.

Nothing like Ana.

Another correct statement that still seemed ominous in context. Why was he comparing Buck to Ana – or Shannon, for that matter? It wasn’t fair to compare friends to lovers. Although, Buck did fit into several categories on both sides.

Buck was a loyal friend, caring and trustworthy. He made Eddie and Christopher feel safe and loved. He wanted to do Buck’s laundry. He thought he was attractive. Slowly, one side of the column began to build in size.

Perhaps Buck was a bigger part of Eddie’s life than he realized. He hadn’t thought seriously about dating anyone until Ana and that never felt right but Buck…

Buck always felt right. Like he belonged with them. Like he’d known them all his life.

Could it be that Eddie wanted something other than friendship? Had he been climbing the wrong ladder all this time only to find himself at the top with no way across? After all: Buck had never given any indication that he was romantically interested in Eddie.

Though, to be fair, Eddie had given no indication either.

But that was because he’d just figured it out. Surely Buck had some idea that best friends didn’t act the way they did. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he wasn’t interested, in any way, with Eddie. Could he forget it and go back to the way things were? Now that his fingers seemed to tingle with the new realization, could he take it back? Could he put those feelings in a box until someone else came along?

Would there be anyone else?

What did he want to happen with Buck?

Kissing him, for starters, might be interesting. Those plump, pink lips exploring his entire body. Having someone in his bed every night would be nice – and not just anyone, but someone who understood his work and the stressors of the day. If anyone was going to stand by his side while he freaked out about Christopher going on his first date, it should be Buck. Next to Eddie, that man was the most protective when it came to that little boy. He’d only seen it once or twice but Eddie knew that Buck looked good in a suit. Would he look even better in a tux? Years from now, when he retired from the LAFD, it would be nice to feel the weight of a ring on his finger, knowing he had someone he loved waiting at home.

Oh.

Oh damn.

Eddie’s shower ran a little bit longer than expected that day.

That simple thought had sent him on a spiral two weeks ago and every night that he struggled to fall asleep, he found himself rolling to the empty side of the bed, wondering what it would be like to wake up next to his best friend.

The conclusion he inevitably came to: it would be wonderful.

If the worlds aligned, of course. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about his sudden, escalating realization (not even Frank). There was no way to know if Buck reciprocated his feelings in any way. Though he knew with uncanny certainty that he would be safe to confess his feelings without fear of losing his relationship entirely, it still seemed safer to gather more information before making any sort of move.

I’m safe with Buck no matter what.

So, no. Eddie would not describe what he felt for Buck as a simple ‘crush’.

It was everything.

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

The accident scene was a mess. It always was. They so rarely rolled up on an event that was neatly organized – not that it would make him any less stressed or worried for the safety of his patients. It was his job to worry, to be surrounded by chaos. Perhaps that was his new normal now, and his idea of an ordinary life had shifted to one that involved heavier boots.

There was still a sense of satisfaction and ease, knowing that he got to go home to his son every night, that he was helping people, and there were people in his life who loved and supported him. Unlike his old army mates (as strong as those relationships were), he also knew that if he woke up and decided to be a baker instead of a firefighter, the 118 would still treat him as one of their own.

Perhaps ‘baker’ wasn’t the best example, baking had never been one of his favourite activities. A florist, or a construction worker, maybe. Firefighting meant a lot to him but it wasn’t his calling – the way it was for his… for Buck. How would the man react if one day, Eddie told him that they would no longer be partners in work? There was no doubt in his mind that Buck would still be over on Thursday nights with pizza and video games. And perhaps if Eddie was working more regular hours, he could go over to Buck’s on occasion and make dinner for the three of them. That would be a nice surprise. Buck would smile that impossibly bright smile and open his arms to Christopher, swinging the boy around gently because he was overly cautious about roughhousing with him – something that only made Eddie’s heart beat faster. Then, Buck would make his way over to Eddie and kiss him with a sort of reverence; like he can’t quite believe that Eddie’s real. He could rest assured that the feeling was mutual.

What a ridiculously outdated fantasy. He’d clearly grown up watching too much ‘I Love Lucy’.

The firefighter shook his head as he hopped out of the truck, turning his thoughts towards the work at hand.

That was something he’d always been good at: focus and calm under pressure. It was what had made becoming a firefighter so appealing. Sure, being a combat medic meant he was more than qualified for field rescues, but all that stoic strength he possessed was better used at work rather than at home. At home, he could be Christopher’s dad. At work, he was Firefighter Diaz.

There was no room for fantasies in Firefighter Diaz’s mind.

The chaos of the accident mostly consisted of cries of pain from passengers trapped in their vehicles as they tried in vain to free themselves before the qualified company could arrive. It wasn’t uncommon to come across a major pile up in the middle of the day, when Angelenos weren’t kept at a complete standstill, and impatient drivers were a staple of life in the LAFD.

Eddie took his orders from Bobby, clearing a path of bystanders for the heavy equipment, and assisting those who were stuck somewhere between freeing themselves and receiving a particularly crude hemicorporectomy. For all the noise, it was a relatively calm affair. Sure, some were screaming and crying – and one woman definitely threw a fit when told to climb out the passenger-side window of her shattered vehicle. But those in need of help received the assistance they required, and the worst injury they encountered was a broken rib and neck bruise from a young man who remained conscious throughout his entire extraction.

It was messy, it was chaotic, it was loud, but it was all right. There were still a few people with minor concussions and bloody wounds that could hopefully be tended to at the scene (most of them unwilling to take the ambulance ride if it wasn’t strictly necessary). He was admittedly a little hyper-focused today, his mind fighting the urge to wander away from its regular duties. Eddie chided himself for feeling so lovesick at work. He’d gone all this time loving Buck, he could handle a few more hours. It was that hyper focus which would be his undoing.

“All right, I think you’re going to be just fine. Head on over to my husband over there and he’ll get you some gauze for your arm.”

An innocent enough sentence – one that didn’t register in his mind through the haze of moving from one patient to the next – but one that only fed into that dangerous fantasy of his.

“What did you call Buck?”

And one that Chimney had apparently heard loud and clear.

Eddie blinked, as he kept his eyes trained on the man before him (some poor bystander who’d bumped his head when he’d stumbled backwards to avoid the oncoming collisions), determined to remain professional in the face of his own idiocy.

Clicking his penlight on with a little too much enthusiasm, he shook the device over his patient’s face. “Can you look up, sir?” Eddie felt his coworker’s eyes trained on him but he kept his focus on his work. As he continued his examination, Chimney crept closer, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and amusement but still, the ex-soldier remained stoic as ever. Some part of Eddie knew that ignoring his friend now would only lead to a confrontation later but right now, he had work to do. And dividing his attention between his duty and his teasing friends was not how he wanted to spend his afternoon. So, he stayed focused. After a few moments, he saw Chimney shake his head and move away, letting Eddie take a much-needed breath of relief.

He was safe from his own stupid brain. For now.

Eddie knew it was coming when Chimney let him be during the rest of their scene cleanup. It was inevitable; but knowing and experiencing were two entirely separate matters.

“So.” Chimney wore what could only be described as a ‘shit-eating grin’ as he began his sentence, pulling all eyes in the back of the truck to him. “Is there something that Buck and Eddie would like to tell us?”

Buck, innocent as ever, turned to Eddie for guidance. “No…?” Eddie could only stare out the window, sorely tempted to remove his headphones if only to prolong the inevitable conversation. Was he blushing or was his face simply burning from the inside out?

“Are you sure?” The man was unrelenting, his voice growing higher with his escalating amusement. As if giving them a chance to confess would be easier than Chimney spilling the truth.

Not that there was any truth to confess. There was just one, very, very, idiotic man who got one simple crush and couldn’t keep it in his pants.

“Chim, what’s going on?”

There were two options Eddie faced in this moment where his head filled with warning sirens (not dissimilar to the ones that normally filled the truck). He could come clean and confess his sins to the team, facing the consequences with what meager amount of dignity he had left. Or, he could lie and pretend Chimney had misheard him, and they could all go about their day. That seemed the safer option. Of course, he hated lying to his team – to his friends – but what was the alternative?

“I called Buck my husband at the scene.”

Apparently, the alternative was exclaiming his idiocy in front of his teammates and denying the flash of a smile on his partner’s face. It was a simple upturn twitch of his lip, hardly noticeable, but the only opinion that mattered to Eddie as he gave his confession was from the man sitting across from him – and he was decidedly attuned to Buck’s ever-changing expressions. On a normal day, he enjoyed the way their knees bumped as the truck bounced through the streets of Los Angeles; it was just another reminder of how connected they were. Now, it made the space between them feel too close – yet still not close enough.

Buck’s face, upon hearing the news that Eddie had tied them together in the mind of some random stranger, flickered once before falling to something neutral and curious (almost amused). As if he was studying something.

“Oh, I don’t mind.” His partner shrugged and Eddie’s heart stopped. “Were they hitting on you?”

Again, Eddie appeared at a crossroads. “No.” And chose the more embarrassingly honest answer.

“Were they hitting on me?”

“No.” So many forks in his path but he continued to veer in one direction, as Buck furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Then why did you”

“I don’t know.” Eddie tried to sound casual as he grumblingly cut him off before he could continue his innocent interrogation. Through the headset, he could hear Chimney snort in disbelief but his eyes remained solely locked on his partner.

He knew why Chimney might scoff at his dismissal – those type of slipups didn’t ‘just happen’, after all – but it was as close to the truth as he could muster. He didn’t know why he’d said what he said. His mind was still frazzled from long hours contemplating what he wanted and what he felt.

Apparently, his subconscious had taken over and now he had his answer.

An answer which was decidedly too large to attempt to unpack while he was still on duty.

He wanted Buck to be his husband. He was ready to get married again – and to his best friend, no less. All wonderful information to process at another time.

The rest of the trip back to the station was filled with noise: the roar of the engine, the shout of the horn when someone inevitably cut them off, the clank of metal against metal. Eddie’s head was silent. He stared out the window at the passing world, feeling the eyes of his partner drilling into his cheek for a time, and then return to his phone. No one spoke, but the absence of voice was deafening. Teasing or pestering would have been better than the juxtaposing silence that told him everyone knew what he’d meant.

Buck had given him every out for his little mistake and, instead, Eddie had barreled straight into his own demise. There was no other explanation as to why he’d said what he said: he’d meant it. Or wanted to mean it, rather. Sure, his dirty little secret had been outed, but Buck had yet to make a comment one way or the other.

I don’t mind.

One friend helping out another: that was what it meant to Buck. And he loved that. But there was no mistaking now what Eddie felt in his heart.

He wanted it to mean something else.

Climbing out of the truck at the end of their journey was harder than usual. The silent stares wouldn’t stop because they were back at the station, it would only be worsened by the fact that there was nothing else to focus on. Eddie never prayed for a call – and he still wouldn’t now – but if there was any mercy in the world, he could avoid all of his friends and co-workers for the rest of their shift.

Simple enough.

“Hey.” Eddie cursed at the familiar voice following him towards the cubbies. Naturally, they were alone, naturally, there was no real excuse to leave – and apparently, he’d decided to suppress his ability to tell white lies for the sake of his pride today – naturally, his heart pounded behind his eyelids as Buck stopped jogging in front of him.

“I just want to say…” and here came the inevitable turndown Eddie dreaded and secretly hoped would never come. “It’s okay, I get it.” Buck’s smile was small but sincere. That man couldn’t be anything less than sincere.

It’s one of the reasons why I lo-

“It was just a slip of the tongue,” Eddie cut off his own thoughts before they betrayed him the way his subconscious had. He needed at least some of his faculties to survive the day. “Don’t worry about it.”

He stepped to the side, intending to escape his own personal hell – was it always this hot in the station? Did they always stand so close to one another? How had he never realized his feelings before now? – but Buck blocked his path.

“No, really, it’s fine.” Was Buck blushing now? “I kind of think of you as my work-husband, too.”

Another perfect opportunity for an out. He could flounder excuses about being tired and meaning it in a work-related setting the way Buck implied.

“Right.” His words sounded weak to his own ears. Who knew what they sounded like to Buck, as the man finally let him pass. Freedom secured, Eddie quickened his pace so as to escape the curious eyes of his fellow crewmates as quickly as possible.

Or at least, that was the plan, until Buck called out: “But you know, I’m free tonight if you wanted to talk about it.”

It felt as though the world stopped spinning – but the distant sound of clanking cutlery from the loft reminded him that it had not. His stomach dropped into his shoes, and his skin burst into flames from the buzzing in his ears. Eddie pivoted on his heel slowly to face his partner, uncertain he’d even heard the words he’d said. But there was Buck, blushing as brightly as he felt, but smiling a much more lopsided grin.

“Talk about what?” He cautiously asked.

Buck moved first, filling the minimal space Eddie had put between them with his broad chest and bright, eager eyes. He smelled of smoke and pine (despite interacting with neither today) and a thin sheen of sweat made him appear more disheveled than perhaps he was. Had he always been so intoxicating? What were they talking about?

“About being husbands… outside of work.”

“What?” Now Eddie was certain that he’d misheard his friend.

Buck simply smirked in response to his question, eyes moving slowly over Eddie’s face. He was always examining, questioning, confident. He had been doomed from the start.

“Christopher’s in bed at eight, right?”

“We’re pushing it to eight-thirty.” His mouth moved on autopilot, too stunned to comprehend the sudden shift in subject.

Again, Buck’s blue eyes circled his face slowly, absorbing all Eddie’s focus as he felt himself physically affected from the mere sight of his partner with his knowing grin and wandering eye. So entranced was he, that he didn’t notice how closely the other man had leaned into his space until he felt his hot breath against his skin. Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat.

He was absolutely doomed.

When Buck spoke, his tongue danced along his teeth, an enticing show of some unfulfilled fantasy that had never occurred to Eddie in the first place.

“Then I’ll be there at eight-thirty-one.”

Buck’s flirtatious demeanor melted into a giddy smile that snapped through the tension he’d pulled between them. “I was a little- a lot worried you didn’t feel the same.” He confessed, still filling Eddie’s space with his infectious energy. One word from him, and Eddie melted.

“You…were…” No more words filled his mind beyond a string of victorious swears and the sound of panicked cheering, but Buck seemed to understand him nonetheless. Buck had always understood him.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

If he hadn’t been so preoccupied with using the truck to keep his legs underneath him, he would have turned to see Buck walk away, pumping his fist in excitement. As it was, several crewmembers looked on from the balcony, shaking their heads at the pair of idiots acting like lovesick teenagers over a single date.

Chimney shooed them all away before taking the opportunity to shout: “Buck, tell your husband that lunch is ready.” Which earned him more than a few chuckles from the firefighters upstairs, and two overexaggerated groans from the men below.

They were definitely not going to be living this down for a while.

For once, Eddie didn’t mind – and if the grin plastered on Buck’s face for the rest of the shift was any indication, neither did he.

[honesthammie]

Thought I'd start doing some prompts, im gonna do them all eventually but I'd thought I'd share some I've seen or thought of on my own with other writers that may need inspiration.

Look in the tabs for fandoms and characters i will do, hopefully.

1)"Look, I'm glad you've saved everyone and all that, but it's time someone told you to take care of you."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not, and furthermore, if you don't take care of you, think of all the people who need you in the future who won't have you!"

2) Reader accidently get sent to Hell instead of Heaven. The King of Hell tells you to make yourself at home while he sorts it out with God. Little did you realise how much you liked it there

3)"On a scale from one to ten, how bad do you think it would be if-“

"At least a twenty."

4) After reaching your 16th birthday you gain the ability to see everyone's red strings of fate and on your 18th you finally get to see yours, except yours dissappears into the ground/sky.

5) "What do you see when you look at me?"

6) Everyone is born with 2 tattoos that has a symbol on each wrist. One for their soulmate and another for their biggest enemy. The reader only has 1.

7)"Why are you still here?"

"Because I care about you, you asshole."

8)"Your hair is so soft.."

9) "It's too cold! Come back!"

10) "No, I'm not letting you go. It's too early to get out of bed."

11) "C'mere, you can sit in my lap until i'm done working."

12)"I'm not going to stop poking you until you

give me some attention."

13) "Shh, you're safe. I won't let you go."

14) "What? does that feel good?"

15)"Just pretend to be my date."

16)"He/She did it." "No he/she did."

17) "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified."

18)“No no-it's alright, come here."

19)"I'm not going to leave you. You're never going to have to suffer by yourself again, I promise."

20) Everyone has a guardian angel. Except the reader. Something went wrong in system and now you're stuck with a guardian Demon. Fortunately, they seem more effective at helping you succeed.

21)"I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I don't trust your cooking. Stay out of my kitchen."

22)"I am way too sober for this."

23)"If I go through with this, I die. If I don't go through with this, we all die."

24)"Why are you doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Treating me like a person."

25)"What the heck is that?!"

"My cat."

"Cats don't have eight legs!"

26)"Hey, I didn't kill anyone today!"

"What do you want? A gold star?"

27)His voice brought back memories of dark rooms and broken bones.

28)"Why do people keep trying to put this blanket on me?"

"Because you're in shock."

"That doesn't mean I need a blanket. It means I need booze."

29)"I can't believe you haven't killed each other yet."

"We shared a room together in (enter what type of school here). If we could survive that, we could survive anything."

30)"Sometimes memories are the worst form of torture"

31)"How do you destroy a monster without becoming one?"

32)"Why aren't you afraid of me?"

"Seriously? I have worse nightmares about failing my exams"

33)"What is that THING in your backpack?"

"It's my new pet dragon."

"Dragons aren't real!"

"Then why is there one in my backpack?"

34)"I had a thought."

"Oh no."

"I swear it's a good one this time!"

35)"Are you there?"

"Physically, yes. Mentally is debatable."

36)"Are you clinically insane or incredibly annoying?"

"I don't know, I probably both."

37)“Are you SURE I can't punch him in the face?"

"Yes."

"What if I just break his nose a little?"

38)"It's a long story."

"You conned me into thinking you were dead for eleven months. I have time."

39)"Death wants you to be terrified, but the scariest thing is wanting death."

40)"What's our exit strategy?"

"Our what?"

"Oh my god, we're all I going to die."

41)"How's the meeting?"

"I want to stab everyone."

"Don't get blood on your dress. We have dinner reservations at seven."

"Love you for enabling me."

"Love you too."

42)"What can I do to make you feel beautiful as as you look to me?"

43)"Once hope becomes a symbol, you cannot kill it. Give it a name, and it will never truly die. You have to dismantle it and let the world watch on as it crumbles in on itself."

44)"Don't you have a country to run?"

"My favorite person is in the hospital, the people can wait."

"I don't think it works like that."

"I rule over them, so it does."

45)"Are you really still a princess if your kingdom is in ruins? If there is no one left to rule over but corpses?"

46) Reader stealing lovers clothes

47)"How did you do that?"

"Maybe if you spent less time rambling you'd have figured it out"

48)"You-you are-"

"Beautiful, a genius, immensely talented"

"Dangerous."

49)"And if the world thinks it can keep us apart, then it hasn't been paying attention because there is nothing, nothing! wouldn't do just to I stay by your side."

50)Take apart every word I've ever said, strip me of every action I've ever taken. Then know, for certain, that mean it when I tell you I love you."

51)"Do you trust her?"

"No. but I ... trust her anger."

52)"I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you!"

"And I'm trying to subtly avoid it!"

53)"Where's your shoe?"

"The giant mud puddle demanded a sacrifice"

54)"People can do can worse things than kill you."

55)"Give my regards to the Devil."

"I will."

"And remind him that he still owes me fifty bucks for helping him out that one time."

56)"Hate to break it to you, but we're both someone else's science experiment."

57)"Timing is key"

"Says the one thats always late"

58)"Right now, I don't know if I want to kiss you or shove you off a bridge."

"Can I pick?"

59)"This? These tears? They are not a weakness. They show how strong you are and how strong you've been. And when you're done, look back and know that you were strong enough to overcome what you once thought to be impossible."

60)"Act natural."

"For this kind of situation, the most natural thing would be to panic, so technically I can panic."

"NO, that's not what I meant! Act like it's a normal day!"

"My 'normal' days of late, consist of a lot of panic."

"Will you just cooperate?"

"When a person is panicking, they are not apt to cooperate very well!"

[mooncademia]

Boys vs. Boys — PART 1.

PAIRING ~ prohero au! friends to lovers, Bakugou x reader ( x Yo Shindo) 

GENRE ~ fluff, a little bit of angst!, jealously 

WARNINGS ~ language! a tiny ~spicy~ joke inserted 

WORD COUNT ~ 8.1k 

SUMMARY ~ After more than a month being away in the States, you have finally returned to Tokyo...with a party more than one. And when Bakugou realizes who the extra person was, tension grows between him and ‘pretty boy dunce-face’ a.k.a, the one and only: Yo Shindo. 

[Bakugou] 10:35 a.m :

Text me when you arrive at Narita Airport, okay?

[Y/N] 10:41 a.m:

Of course :)

Bakugou leaned back on his chair in his apartment and read the text that you have sent to him yesterday, over and over again. In less than 30 minutes, you will finally arrive back to Tokyo after spending a month and a half in New York and LA for pro-hero work in the States.

Bakugou was never the type to be constantly checking his social media. He doesn’t even turn on his notifications because his simple rule was: if you had something to tell him, text him through Messages. Or just straight up call him. He doesn’t want to be spending time scrolling through Instagram, liking people’s outfit or food posts, nor did he want to retweet some silly tweet that Kaminari posted, complaining about how his neighbor’s cat hated him on a personal level. Bakugou had his own pro-hero work to do.

But today was different! And he had to be honest to himself, he was a little embarrassed to admit it. But ever since you texted him yesterday, he immediately turned on all his social media apps and now, he has spent way too long scrolling through your friend’s posts--hoping to know if there were any news of your arrival.

Bakugou grunted as he ruffled his blonde hair messily, feeling impatient that he hasn’t received any news about your arrival yet. He leaned over to his desk to grab his water bottle, but right before he unscrewed the cap, his phone vibrates loudly on his desk and he immediately dropped the water bottle and unlock his phone.

Finally! After so many weeks of you being away…you were finally here.

Closer to him.

Bakugou impatiently swiped right to unlock his phone and saw your message.

[Y/N] 7:56 p.m

At Narita, finally 🥴

His lips twitched a smile when he saw the emoji. Yeah, a 14 hour flight isn’t really the most comfortable, huh? He quickly replied back with his thumbs running with speed.

[Bakugou] 7:56 p.m:

How was the flight?

A few minutes past, no response. Bakugou shrugged, a smile still on his face knowing that you were safely here at Tokyo now, and in a few hours, he will be able to see you at the welcome-home party that Yaoyoruzu is preparing at the very moment in her godly-rich mansion.

But, before he rests his phone back on his desk, hundreds of notifications blew up on his phone and he checks his insta story to see what Mina, Uraraka, and Tsuyu posted. After all, they were currently at the airport picking you up.

Bakugou clicked on Mina’s latest insta story, his heart throbbed in excitement to finally see you until—

His face fell.

“I KNEW IT! I FUCKING KNEW YOU TWO WERE DATING!,” Mina squealed in the short clip captioned: “I WAS RIGHT! @yaomomo u owe me $20 bucks 😘😘!” Her phone went flying everywhere which made the video awfully blurry. But Bakugou already caught it and oh, did he feel sour in the mouth.

You looked as beautiful as ever, with your simple yet stylish slightly cropped cream-T and gray sweatpants. Even though your eyes looked a bit dazed as if you had just woken up, you looked so cute to his eyes.

But what made Bakugou’s emotion shift so fast was not of you. Of course not!! How could he ever?!

No. 

It was who you were walking with.

He clicked next on Mina’s insta story, hoping in that split millisecond it was not who he think it is. Not the person in his mind that kept bugging him after seeing so many headlines on the news of the two of you working together in New York and LA. It can’t be him, right?

Right?!!!

But Bakugou’s guts knew way fucking better. And his eyes grew angry when he saw the pro-hero, Yo Shindo, standing next to you. Wrapping you closely in his arms with a smirk plastered on his face. And you looked just as pleased too as Mina caught you laughing with Shindo so lovingly before running towards Mina with your arms wide open.

“Wow,” Bakugou heard Tsuyu gleefully whisper next to Mina. “He’s even more hot in real life! Why the hell can’t I find men like that?!”

“It’s a rarity.” 

Bakugou heard Tsuyu scoffed playfully. “Tell me about it.” 

Mina continued to wobble the phone, which makes Bakugou want to shout at the device on his hand to stop! moving! But alas, the next clip that was just posted 16 seconds ago, he saw you with your arms wide open, giving all your girlfriends a hug.

“Aw, I miss you guys so much!!” You squealed. Bakugou could no longer see “pretty boy dunce-face ” anymore but he knew he was with you and his stomach drop.

Ah, Yo Shindo. The pro-hero who study abroad in New York after high school for an internship at a country-famous agency, second best from Captain Celebrity (who was #1 hero in the U.S!), becoming a famous pro-hero in America.

And surely enough, when you flew to NY and LA to collaborate with Yo Shindo, news broke out nation wide in America about the two of you working together that even Japan starred the news on television one day. And those past weeks while you were gone, Bakugou had to suffer from all the pictures that the paparazzi took in New York and Los Angeles. And he admits it. He spent way too many nights awake, changing his VPN to U.S.A on his computer (thank you Kaminari for the tip!) to read and watch CNN, New York Times, and any other newsline that starred or mentioned you and Yo Shindo, hoping to grasp any updates about you.

But now you were finally here in Tokyo…with a party more than one. And as Bakugou closed Instagram, he closed his eyes to calm himself down aka, reassuring yourself that you and Yo Shindo were definitely no more than just friends…

Who spent more than a month together in the States…

And flew back to Tokyo together in the same flight…

Yeah…not helping.

Bakugou lifted himself off his chair and threw a towel over his shoulder, heading towards the shower to wash up before the party at Yao-momo’s tonight. But Bakugou’s phone buzzed once more and when he leaned in to check it, his heart did a little flip when he read your text.

[Y/N] 8:14 p.m

Not the very best 😔 a flight attendant and I had this argument because there was a seating error!

Bakugou relaxed a bit. He knew it was a little self-indulgent and selfish to feel this, and maybe it was jealously that was pouring over him, but he felt his nerves relaxed a bit knowing that perhaps you didn’t at all fell for that Yo Shindo boy.

Bakugou began to type back. Not an overly-top-gushy-pick-me-up text that he know that idiot Deku would type, but a nice and cool but sweet text to cheer you up from your bad flight. But before he clicked the sent button, he received another message.

[Y/N] 8:15 p.m

Thankfully Yo Shindo was there to help me out, he’s here in Tokyo too by the way! 

Bakugou felt his stomach drop again. He backspaced his previous text and rewrote a new one.

[Bakugou] 8:16 p.m

Oh, that’s great!

He knew it was far from the truth as jealously crept up behind his back again, but he had to play it cool. He can’t be jumping into conclusions before he knows anything about the two of you!

[Y/N] 8:16 p.m

I’ll see you at Momo’s, right?

Bakugou smiled at the screen. Despite the news of pretty-boy dunce face in town, he still can’t wait to finally see you after so many weeks. Of course you have been keeping him updated through your texts every week, but to see you actually in person after so long…his heart couldn’t stop beating when he typed back.

[Bakugou] 8:17 p.m

Yeah, I’ll be there.

And with that, Bakugou finally rested his phone back on his desk and headed towards the shower, hoping to wash away all silly thoughts flowing in his mind.  Hoping that…when he sees you tonight, he is able to have an opportunity in the near future to tell you about the emotions he has been feeling ever since you left Tokyo last month. 

With no distractions in the way—especially not that  pretty boy idiot!

—————

Okay so his previous plan came to a halt.

“Yo, Yao-Momo!!” Kaminari shouted as he hopped back onto the couch. He pointed behind him excitingly. “I didn’t know you had black custom-made toilets!!”

“Black toilets?” Kirishima asked, setting up the living room table with cups and beverages.

“Yeah! And there’s even a TV mounted on the wall above the bath tub. And OH! There’s “jacuzzi” mode in the tub! And there are speakers so you can listen to music and the mirror above the sink opens up to a—“

“So did you go pee, or did you just take a full-ass bath in my bathroom?” Yaoyorozu asked with her hands on her hips and sneered eyes.

Kaminari widened his eyes like a puppy. “I CAN TAKE A BATH IN YOUR COOL BATHROOM?!”

Yaoyorozu sighed as she placed two finger on her nose bridge, but Kaminari could tell that she was trying not to laugh.

“Food’s here!!” Yaoyorozu’s boyfriend, Yosetsu Awase, announced as he plopped down six pizza boxes on the table.

“Thanks babe for picking it up,” Yaoyorozu said before giving Awase a kiss on the cheek. She smiled happily at her boyfriend and when Bakugou glanced up, the two of them looked so good together that he couldn’t help but feel a sour in his stomach as he reflected back at the news he saw on Mina’s Instagram story.

Bakugou cleared his throat as he helped Kirishima set up all the props. “So…when’s Y/N getting here?”

Kirishima looked at him and when he saw his best friend look so curious and innocent, Kirishima’s eyes immediately lit up and he nudged Bakugou on the ribs even though he knew he may be dead meat from teasing him.

“You still like her, huh!” Kirishima said in a low whisper with a smirk, which almost caused Bakugou to light up his hands and slam Kirishima face down on Momo’s fancy wooden floors. But before he could even act, he heard the entrance door whoosh open with Mina’s voice echoing from the door to the main room.

“YOU OWE ME $20 BUCKS MOMOOOOOOOO!!!!” Mina shouted as she dragged you to the living room. When Bakugou saw you standing a couple feet away from him, he sucked in a breath.

You were still wearing your airport outfit that he saw you last on Mina’s post. But when he thought that you couldn’t look any more beautiful from the small screen on his phone, he was so wrong. As you stood there with a sheepish grin on your face—to Bakugou’s eyes— you were 10 times more prettier in real life. Hell, make that a hundred.

When you locked eyes with Bakugou after giving Kirishima a hug, you blushed before stepping towards him, about to do the same, until—

“Y/N!! YOU’RE FINALLY FUCKING HERE!!! I MISS YOU SO GODDAMN MUCH!!!” Yaoyorozu squealed as she ran over, cutting Bakugou from his hug. Bakugou had to back up before Yaoyorozu jumped over him and he was not happy about that. But when you let out an “oof!” and rested your shoulder on Momo’s shoulder, your eyes were still on Bakugou’s and you gave him a weary smile that said: “sorry!”

Bakugou couldn’t stay furious too long when he saw your apologetic smile as you hugged Momo back. He gave an appreciative nod at you that made you know that he was glad to finally see you back.

When Momo parted away, she blinked her eyes at Mina, who was standing right next to you with her arms crossed and a sly smirk plastered on her face.

Momo perked up. “Wait, I owe you $20 bucks?”

Mina widened her eyes and grabbed your arm, shaking it so excitingly that Bakugou swore she probably loosened all your bones now. “Bitch! You owe me $20 bucks when we bet on Y/N and Yo Shindo being together!”

You shot your head at Mina with eyes widened. “You guys bet WHAT?!” You asked so sternly that it made Mina and Momo tuck their hands sheepishly behind their backs.

“Well…” Mina teased, eyes staring at the ground as she drew circles on the floor with her shoe. “We kinda bet on whether you will get together with Yo Shindo when you were away…”

“We? As in just the two of you, right?”

Momo clamped the back of her neck embarrassingly. “Uh…plus Asui and Ochaco..?”

You gasped, shaking your head in disbelief. “You guys! I cannot believe—“

“That you love us too much for you to get mad at us?” Mina interrupted with such a cute smile that you parted your mouth for a few seconds and darted your eyes from Mina to Momo before dropping your hands and releasing a sigh.

“Fine…” you said, rolling your eyes but your lips lifted up to a smile. You extended your arms to your friends. “Come here you guys…Ya’ll are so lucky I haven’t seen you two for more than a month. Or else you’ll be dead meat!”

Your girlfriends ran in to hug you one more time, continuing their warm comments on how much they have missed you.

Yaoyorozu parted away when a thought came across her mind. “WAIT, Y/N, FOR REAL THO. Are you guys dating? .… Oh my god,” Yaoyorozu cupped her cheeks with her hands and blushed warmly. “Don’t tell me he’s actually here, is he?!”

Bakugou silently pleaded to himself that pretty boy dunce face is not here. Oh god, please let him have mercy!

“He’s here!” Mina squealed turning her head back to Yaoyorozu. “And he’s so cute in real life!”

Yaoyorozu clamped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my god. Yo Shindo. In my house.” She scanned the whole living room, making sure that everything looked fine.

“Uh. Your boyfriend. Also. In your house.”  Awase cleared his throat as he and Kaminari came back with paper plates.

Yaoyorozu walked towards her boyfriend and planted a sweet kiss on his cheek. “Of course you know I love you, babe. But Yo Shindo is here. That’s like…that's like having Brian the Sun come over to perform a song, y’know. We are all just fangirling!”

“We?” Bakugou sputtered out. Kirishima flashed him a smirk which made him roll his eyes and mutter out a “whatever”.

But no one heard him, because right after Bakugou’s comment, Tsuyu and Uraraka entered in with the man that Bakugou never thought he’d ever have to see since his pre-license exam during his first year in U.A.

Yo Shindo came in holding two pack of beers and bowed slightly with a celebrity-level smile that would have all girls swooning after him. He was wearing a Gucci shirt under a blue flannel, paired with ripped vintage denim jeans and a black beanie that made the bangs on his head scoot down just a tiny bit. His face mask was resting right below his lips and his whole aura screamed: “FASHION” in all the right places. But it wasn’t just his looks that demanded attention, it was also his aura of easy confidence that he held. And if he wasn’t a pro-hero, he’s the type of guy that would be easily mistaken as a supermodel.

His yellow Gentle Monster sunglasses were tucked in his shirt and Tsuyu and Uraraka giggled as they sat down the rest of the beers on the table and directed Shindo to do the same.

“Hey,” Shindo greeted everyone as he moved next to where you were standing which made Bakugou’s eyes squint just a bit. You nodded at him with a smile that made Bakugou want to twist his guts. “It’s so nice to meet everyone! Y/N talks a lot about you guys.”

“SO YOU REMEMBER US FROM THE LICENSE EXAM?!” Kaminari asked excitingly, almost jumping out of his seat.

Yo Shindo chuckled as he wrapped his arms around your waist, making you widen your eyes just a bit from his touch, but the look on your face didn’t really show any uncomfortableness—as if you were already used to it.

But oh, if only Bakugou shot lasers out of his eyes!! He would zap away his hand from your waist in a blink of an eye.

“Yeah,” Shindo nodded his head cooly. “You, Kirishima, and Bakugou are awesome!” He said looking at the each of them. Kaminari and Kirishima grinned appreciatively back. But weirdly, when Shindo’s eyes landed on Bakugou his gaze stayed a tiny bit longer than usual.

What? Bakugou mentally questioned to himself when he saw the way Shindo stared at him seriously. It was like he was challenging him, and there was a string of tension that only the two boys could feel and Bakugou already knew from the start that he and him were not going to get along.

Shindo blinked his eyes back to reality and flashed a friendly smile to you—a complete change of face for what he was expressing to Bakugou, but no one else seemed to notice. Shindo pulled you closer. “Well, let’s get this party started shall we?”

You nodded happily back and everyone began handing out plates and popping bottles of beer. Bakugou joined in too, with a grin on his face.

But although he smiled as he listened to you talk about your crazy adventures of that one creepy stalker you encountered in LA or how everyone must order the pastrami egg n’ cheese bagel at Frankel’s Deli in Brooklyn, Bakugou couldn’t help but feel a discomfort itch in the back of his mind as he saw you sitting on the couch with Shindo so closely next to you.

And whenever Shindo glanced at Bakugou, there was always this silent edge that he could feel from the look of his eyes. Unfortunately, in such a social environment, he couldn’t excuse himself with his best friend Kirishima to talk about this. Bakugou knew that people will question him. What’s there to be uncomfortable about in Y/N’s Welcome Home party?

So as Bakugou took another sip of his beer while you talked about your crazy adventures, he mentally crossed his fingers that you and Yo Shindo are merely just friends.

Even if a part of him told him otherwise.

————

“Wait, you two went on a date?!” Momo asked looking at Shindo as her back sat comfortably on the sofa with her boyfriend’s arm around her. “In New York?!”

Shindo smiled at you and laughed. You mirrored his expression and shook your head at Momo. “Well, it wasn’t really a date actually, it was just a tour around New York.” You said.

“Oh, please tell us!!” Uraraka said to Shindo with excited eyes. Shindo laughed and nodded happily, making all the girls put their full attention on what he had to say.

“Well, I first met Y/N in New York City. And after seeing her and her awesome abilities—“

“Oh please,” you said, waving your hand dismissively from that with an embarrassing smile.

Yo Shindo pouted adorably at you. “It’s true!”

Bakugou saw Uraraka and Tsuyu quietly exchanging each other glances that didn’t need much for him to know what they were thinking. And as much as it hurts his guts and heart to think about this, he couldn’t help it.

You and Shindo looked so good together. It was like those couples on k-drama or whatever the hell people were watching, where the audience knows that they are perfect for each other. And even though you hadn’t mentioned anything about him being your boyfriend and all…well, it was just obvious. Even your girlfriends could see it. And from the look of Kirishima giving him a lopsided smile as if saying “Ouch. Sorry bro.”  Bakugou could basically confirm his hypothesis correct.

But instead of wanting to just punch pretty boy in the face to release his anger (which, he wanted to do so bad) he kept his cool and restrained his emotions as he listened to Shindo explain this “date” that the two of you went on.

“Well, I offered to take Y/N around New York City, since she was new to the place on my motorbike and—“

“ON YOUR MOTORBIKE?!” All the girls (plus Kaminari) squealed. Awase tilted his head back to laugh at everyone’s reaction and Kirishima muttered a phrase that included: “dude, that’s so manly!” causing Bakugou to turn his head at him and shoot him a death dagger.

Kaminari—who by the way— is obsessed with motorcycles and dreams to own a Harley Davidson one so he could be as cool as Keanu Reeves, pumped his hand in the air and excitingly asked, “Yo, Shindo, what type of motorbike do you have?”

“The one I took with Y/N?” Shindo said, which meant that he had more than one. But the way Shindo said it wasn’t in an egotistic kind of way, nor was it annoying (which bugged Bakugou) but rather, he said it in a humble and polite tone.

Shindo glanced at you with a charming smirk on his face, as if remembering that precious time with you in New York. “It was a Harley Davidson Sportster Iron 883! In black.”

“WHAT!” Kaminari slammed his beer down on the table. “C-can I have a ride?”

Ugh, an idiot I swear! Bakugou said to himself as jealously crept up to him once again as he saw everyone—even Kirishima—so engaged on Yo Shindo.

Shindo laughed again and nodded. “Sure! I actually shipped that one to Tokyo since I’ll be staying here for a while.”

Mina lifted her eyebrows at Shindo. “You’re staying in Tokyo?”

Shindo shook his head. “I’m just staying here for a couple of weeks for some pro-hero work. I’ve been away so long and I wanted to come back since I realized I missed Japan so much. And a friend of mine offered me to collab with his agency for now!”

Bakugou let out a puff of air as Uraraka gleefully smiled and said, “Wow, that’s so great to hear!”

And so the conversation continued. After Shindo took you around on his motorbike, he took you to this fancy, romantic restaurant down in Manhattan, and then took you around Central Park when evening came. And during this whole conversation, everyone pitched in their squeals and glees here and there, but Bakugou remained silent the whole time. You laughed at Shindo’s jokes and descriptions and added a story on how clumsy he actually is, despite his cool exterior.  And Bakugou grew slightly more furious—but it wasn’t a challenging kind of anger. It was just that it frustrated him that he couldn’t point out, or find, any particular ”flawed” that Yo Shindo had.

As the conversation moved along from one to the other, Yo Shindo offered to help Awase and Kaminari to clean up the empty pizza boxes. Kirishima and Bakugou offered to help as well, recycling empty bottles away and folding paper plates to the waste bin.

And as Bakugou walked across the living room, picking up the last few empty bottles of beer on the side table of the couch, he heard you and your girlfriends lowly whispering.

“Well?! “ Yaoyorozu questioned curiously, patting your knee. “Did you…you know!?”

“What?” You asked curiously.

“You know…Yo Shindo…vibration quirkkkkk,” Tsuyu moaned as Uraraka and Mina nodded in agreement, eyes clearly swooned away by Shindo.

Tsuyu grabbed your arm and stared at you dead deep into your eyes before glancing to where Shindo and the other boys were at in the kitchen. “Please tell me what happened! You two obviously hit it up, right?!”

Bakugou wanted to throw up right then and there. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear what you were about to say next. And as much as his conscious tells him to “WALK AWAY KATSUKI”!!! Curiosity killed the cat as he watched you in the corner of his eyes while he cleaned up the table slowly to the side.

You covered your face with your hands as embarrassment crept up on you and squeezed your eyes shut.

“I KNEW IT!” Uraraka said in a low whispered as she snapped her fingers.

Bakugou’s stomach dropped and his jaw tightened in grit.

“Guys, no,” You whispered sternly back, but your cheeks still glowed with heat. “Nothing happened between me and Shindo.”

Bakugou eyes widened as he darted his attention back on the table. Wait a minute… there is hope! A wash of relief swept through him when he heard your reply, but his happy thoughts immediately crumpled when he heard Mina’s suspicious tone.

“Sureeeeeeeee,” Mina exhaled a puff of air sharply—not convinced that you were telling the truth. “I can see it in your face that that’s a LIE!”

Bakugou knew it would be wrong for him to continue hearing this (wrong in a sense that if you were just hiding the true secret, he may blow the roof off of Momo’s house, and that wouldn’t be appropriate). Plus, who the hell takes 5 goddamn minutes to clear up some trash?!

So, with all his might, Bakugou bravely walked around the couch, passing you and the girls as he headed towards the kitchen. And when you saw Bakugou walk pass in front of you, you silently let out a gasp with a parted mouth shaped as an ‘o’ on your face.

————

After the party was over and it was getting pretty late, all the girls decided to finally head home. They offered you to join them but you passed appreciatively by saying how you had to thank and Awase and Momo for everything and Awase was still in the back, cleaning a few things up, while Momo had some errands to run.

“How do you not drink Momo-Yaoo!!” Mina said as she threw one arm around Momo’s shoulder.  

Momo sighed but a smile graced her lips. “Cuz I know I’ll have to take you guys home!” She said sternly but sarcastically.

Mina gave Momo a “thank you” hug and you and the girls laughed

“Since you’re finally here, we all have to go to that tendon place in Shinjuku!” Tsuyu announced happily, giving you one last hug before heading out.

“Tendon Tuesdays are definitely back ya’ll!” You laughed happily and all the girls hovered above the two of you, joining in for one last group hug as they shared “I love yous” and goodbyes.

“You guys are acting like I will be leaving again,” you laughed when you all pulled away and saw your friends getting teary.

Mina smiled softly. “We’re just happy you’re finally back.”

And after Mina said her sweet comment, Uraraka wailed a “You GUYSssssssss!” in a sarcastic tone and everyone bunched up together again for another group hug as they wailed their hearts out.

Bakugou walked in and saw all the girls form into one ball and he couldn’t help but grin at the sight. Yeah, he was so happy that you are actually in Tokyo.

After more “text me!” and goodbyes, the four girls exited out the door and you stood in the living room by yourself, cleaning up the last few trash on the table for Momo.

This is the time. Bakugou said to himself as he began to walk towards you. Nervousness crept on his neck which was unusual for him since you were one of his closest friends. Kirishima and Kaminari headed back to their places and before Kirishima exited, he gave one last talk to Bakugou.

“Dude, you don’t even know if she’s with him yet,” Kirishima said outside the front gate. “Maybe they’re just friends!”

“Just friends?” Bakugou repeated slightly icily—almost like a scoff. He tucked his hands in his pockets and shook his head. “I don’t know, man. You see it too though.”

Kirishima stares at his friend and bit his lip, knowing that from the way Shindo has been treating you and all the stories you two of shared together, it looked like you two were together. Sure! Maybe you two were just friends, but Bakugou felt like it was highly unlikely. Plus, you were exchanging whispers with your friends and from the look on their faces, it was like something exciting was stirring up.

“Yeah,” Kirishima finally said. “But still…we don’t really know. And now that everyone is almost gone, now’s your chance to finally talk to her in peace!”

And with that in mind, Bakugou walked towards you in the main room.

“Hey.”

You looked up from the table and widened your eyes. “Bakugou! I thought you already left with the other boys. You’re still here?” You asked. But you immediately blushed and waved your hands quickly when you realized how wrong that sounded out your mouth. “Not that it’s bad that you’re here! I didn’t mean that. I’m happy you’re still here!”

Bakugou laughed, his shoulders relaxing as he looked at you with a smile. You laughed too at your own dumb act and the awkward tension was slowly replaced with a comforting one.

“You really don’t wanna see me, huh?” Bakugou teased with a smirk.  

You rolled your eyes. “You know it’s not like that.”

Bakugou grabbed the back of his neck and locked his eyes with you. You hummed curiously, knowing that he wanted to say something.

“Y/N, I just wanted to say that I’m really glad that—“

“Y/N!!” Shindo’s voice echoed from the back kitchen. He waved his arm excitingly with a bright smile but then paused when he saw you and Bakugou standing in front of each other, alone.

Ugh! Bakugou thought to himself as he saw Shindo’s face grow slightly tensed when he looked at him.

Shindo walked towards you respectfully with a smile. “Hey, I know it’s pretty late. Do you want me to take you home?”

Bakugou parted his mouth opened for just a bit. His anger and jealously was rising high now and he wasn’t sure why.

“Oh!” You said, turning your head to Shindo. “No, it’s fine, really!”

“You sure?”

You smiled at him. “Yeah, thank you though.”

“Well then,” Shindo turned to Bakugou and then back to you. His gaze turned serious. “Can- Can I talk to you in private for a moment?”

You opened your mouth and directed your hand towards Bakugou. “Oh! Bakugou was actually talking—“

“It’s fine, Y/N” Bakugou said in almost a strict tone that your face fell a bit. He nodded his head at Shindo and then smiled at you, telling you that it really was okay. “It’s not important, really. Actually…I think I’m going to head out.”

“Bakugou, wait—“ you said, your eyes staring directly at his.

“Y/N,” Bakugou tried to laugh. But you knew him too well that the laugh was forced. “Seriously, we can chat again later some time. Plus, since you’re back, we can finally hang out like we used too.”

Shindo glared at Bakugou sternly after he said that, but at this point Bakugou couldn’t care anymore.

You paused and stared at him before mumbling out an “okay” as Shindo turned and pulled you away from him.

And after letting Awase know that he was finally heading home, Bakugou exited the door and walked towards the front gate. He tucked his hands in his pockets and felt his heart grow heavier and heavier until—

“Katsuki! Wait!”

Bakugou twirled around to see you extend your arm up high out the front door. You ran towards him and put your hands on your knees to gasp for air.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you so directly.” You said apologetically.

Bakugou shook his head, but his heart skipped a few beats when he heard you call his first name. “It’s fine. You can call me that.”

You widened your eyes and hugged yourself closely. “Oh?” You smiled. “Okay then.”

“Uhm…did you need to tell me something…or..?” Bakugou asked curiously, internally wondering why you suddenly exited out of the house.

“Oh! Right!” You tapped your head dumbly. “Right….I- I actually wanted to say goodbye to you and-”

“Weren’t you just talking to Shindo?” Bakugou pointed out so cold that your face immediately fell when you heard his sudden shift of tone.  

“Um-”

“Sorry.”

“No! I- I actually need to apologize for that. I should have spoken up more. We haven’t…really chatted during the party.”

Bakugou scoffed and smiled as he tilted his head up towards the night sky in silence. He was so furious just a few seconds ago that any one who dared stopped him will be blasted off to space. But when he heard you call his actual name, he felt more at peace. But sadness lingered in his heart as he darted his gaze behind you at the door, knowing that Shindo was in there. 

From the door entrance to the front gate was a large garden in between, and when you realized how quiet it was, you cleared your throat and looked up at him.

“We’re not together,” you finally said.  “I mean, Shindo and I.”

Bakugou’s eyebrows shot up immediately but quickly replaced his shock look with a calm one.

Wait…what?

“Oh…?”

He blinked his eyes and parted his mouth slowly, carefully thinking about the words before saying them out loud. “But Mina and them—“

“Kept teasing about the two of us being together? Momo kept throwing us questions about our quests? All the girls teasing and the “date”?” You said in air quotes with a smirk. “Shindo is really nice and he’s like that to almost everyone, really. Plus…”

You stopped, glancing up at Bakugo and then turning your head away. Heat crept up to the apples of your cheeks as you continued. “Plus, there’s someone else…”

Bakugou’s mind buzzed with clouds as he felt like a a horde of demons was ready to swallow him up.

There’s someone else.

It can’t be him, right? Bakugou’s shoulders fell and frowned a bit. How could he be so stupid thinking that you actually liked him in the first place? Could it be…Kirishima? Kaminari? Oh fuck, maybe it’s Deku. His mind continued to swarm with possibilities of the “someone else,” casting more and more doubt onto himself until he heard your laughter.

You clenched your arms around your stomach and laughed. A beautiful melody that never ceases to amaze Bakugou. It was like a warm breeze in the summer swooping him away. But Bakugou lowered his gaze with confusion as he stared at you. “What’s so funny?”

You looked up, wiping a small tear on the corner of your eye with a bright but soft smile on your face.

“It’s you, dumbass.”

Under normal circumstances, anyone who called him that will immediately turn into dust, but with you… He couldn’t even get riled up an inch. Because when he heard those words left your mouth, it was like fog clearing up on a raining day, a heavy weight now off his shoulders.

Wait…is this really happening?

A cunning smirk graced his lips as he stepped closer to you.

The cool evening air no longer felt cold and you grabbed his hand pulling him closer. It was dark but he could still see the perfect outlines of your face.

“Really?” Bakugou whispered huskily above you, not sure if he was dreaming or not. Excitement buzzed throughout his body, his focus entirely on you.

You laughed with a happy smile on your face. “Really.”

Bakugou smirked cockily. “Well, then dumbass…I’m glad… because I like you too.” He said slowly in such a cute way that it made you giggled.

“I’m glad then.” You said quietly.

“Do you… want to go grab lunch someday…?” Bakugou asked, the words rolling off his tongue seemed so foreign to him. Everything happened so fast but it felt so nice at the same time.

You nodded your head still smiling. “Yeah…that sounds nice. Though I want your homemade curry, I’ve been craving Japanese food for so long and New York and LA doesn’t even beat the meals that you make!”

Bakugou laughed, his heart feeling so overwhelmingly content. “Well then, I’ll bring you some food tomorrow. You’ll be jet lag and all.”

You groaned cutely. “Oh god, yeah. I’ll probably be sleeping all morning tomorrow. But at least I’ll have something to look forward to when I wake up.” You smiled.

Bakugou nodded, and you pulled him into a hug that surprised him at first but he wrapped his arms around you ever so gently and warmly. The two of you just wrapped in each other’s arms for a few seconds, enjoying the quiet night that Bakugou wished could last forever.

“I’m glad you’re back, Y/N.” He whispered softly in your ear that made you shivered with happiness. “I…I’ve missed you.” He added ever so quietly in a way that it sounded like he was talking to himself. But you still heard those words and it made you hug him a bit tighter.

You tucked your head into his shoulder and whispered out a soft “me too.”  

When the two of you parted away, you both exchanged goodbyes once more, but this time, there was a layer of love and excitement in the air. Bakugou glanced at the door behind you, and the sudden reminder of Shindo who was still in there came to mind. Bakugou has never felt so happy in his whole entire life, knowing that you had the same feelings he had for you. But seeing the shadows on the windows, the sudden flash of Shindo’s disapproving face re-resurfaced. He had a feeling that you didn’t know that Shindo actually liked you. And sure! He only met the guy today but his gut instincts knew better that the faces he gave to Bakugou plus his expression whenever he looked at you, it was something more than just a friendship. But before Bakugou could even dive deeper into this thought as he turned towards the gate, you stopped him.

“Katsuki—! Wait.” You called, causing him to turn his head once more at you. But before he could even ask what’s wrong, you slipped a hand through his and stepped on your tippy toes as you planted a warm kiss on his cheek, holding it there for a few seconds. Bakugou widened his eyes for a quick second, and just like magic, that kiss washed his doubts about you and Shindo down the drain. It was like a message that you were his—as dominating as that sound. But it nevertheless made him less tensed. 

You swallowed a lump on your throat as you parted away. A little embarrassed at your sudden move but when you saw Bakugou’s face glowed, you smiled and nodded. Words didn’t need to be said for the two of you to understand each other.

“Have a goodnight, okay? Drive safe.” You waved before turning your back to return to the house.

“Yeah,” Bakugou smiled as he tucked his hands into his pocket, turning to the front gate once more. “I will.”

And with that, the two of you parted your ways, with bright smiles and warm hearts that continued to simultaneously flow in the air.

—————

“Cuz I know I’ll have to take you guys home!” Shindo heard Momo from the living room said as he carried the trash bags into the kitchen.

“Uhm.., where should I place these?” Shindo asked Awase who was washing a few cups in the sink.

Awase pointed at the corner besides him where all the other bags were laid. “You can leave them here Thanks, man.”

Before Shindo nodded respectfully at him, he heard you and the girls burst out into a loud laughter, making him turn to the direction of the sound coming from the main room. His eyes softened, as if reminiscing precious memories from a time. And in all honestly, his attention was just focused on your laughter. The melody that he can always listen to and never get tired of.

Shindo had never believed “love at first sight.” But when he first saw you in New York, his heart bloomed in a way that he has never felt before and he was so interested in you ever since. Of course, he kept cool about it, but since he was such an open and honest guy, he always slipped in a move here and there, hoping to grab your attention or sneak in hints, to show that what you meant to him was in a way that was more than a friend.

After cleaning up, Awase takes a sip of his beer, glancing at Shindo’s still turned-head for a moment before saying, “You like her, don’t you?”

Shindo looked stunned as he immediately shot his head back at Awase. His heart pounded in his chest when he heard the question. “H-how did you know?”

Awase smirked. “I know that feeling, dude. That’s how I felt when I met Momo,” He said, tilting his head towards the living room where his girlfriend was.

“I don’t want anyone to find out,” Shindo said quietly as he rested his elbows on the kitchen island across Awase.

“Of course. This is just between me and you.” Awase replied respectfully, knowing what Shindo is going thorough, having a similar experience himself.

Shindo smiled at him appreciatively. He cleared his throat. “And uhm, I know that we just met and all…but do…do you you know if Y/N is involved with anyone—like, romantically?”

Awase pondered on that comment seriously for a moment. “I don’t really know, man. I think Kirishima and the others will know since they were all in the same class as her since U.A. But…from what I’ve heard from my girlfriend, I don’t think so.”

“Not even, uhm, Bakugou?” Shindo slid in the question curiously.  

“Y/N and Bakugou!?” Awase laughed. “I’ve never heard of that before! Who gave you the idea?”

Shindo just shrugged, not wanting to say why he asked. Ever since the day he accidentally saw your phone lock screen of you and Bakugou in your days in U.A when your phone dinged on his table, his suspicion arose. Of course it wasn’t much, but the way you talked about him was different compared to the others…

“Hey,” Awase said, interrupting his thoughts. “From what I’ve learned… you can wait to get the answers, or just be honest with her.”

“Be honest with her?”

Awase shrugged. “Yeah. In fact you can even tell her how you feel now, most of her friends are returning home now.”

Shindo nodded appreciatively at him and smiled. “Thanks man, really.”

“You got it, and don’t worry,” Awase reassured when he saw Shindo’s mouth open again. “I’ll keep things low-key.”

Shindo smiled again and walked back towards the main room to find you. Awase was right. After all that you two of been through for the past couple weeks there was a new foundation built upon your friendship—trust. And he trusted you that you can at least understand his feelings. Shindo knew he told everyone that he came back to Tokyo for a change of environment and for hero work…but that wasn’t necessarily the entire truth. Because in all transparency, he came back for you too…and maybe its because he has loved working with you, or maybe it was the way you described Tokyo to him in New York made him really miss home…

Or maybe it’s because he was falling in love with you.

Shindo made his way to the living room and called out your name, but his high emotions toppled over when he saw you standing with Bakugou in the now empty living room, alone.

He doesn’t really hate Bakugou, but ever since he had his suspicion, he couldn’t look at him the same way. And sure, it may be unfair of him to act like that but when he saw the way Bakugou locked eyes with him, he knew something was up that confirmed his suscpisoun. He could feel this unprecedented tension in the air between him and Bakugou—almost like an undeclared challenge.

Shindo mustered up the courage as he walked towards you with a smile. “Hey, I know it’s pretty late. Do you want me to take you home?”

“Oh!” You replied when you noticed Shindo. “No, it’s fine, really!”

“You sure?”

You smiled at him which made Shindo’s stomach flutter with butterflies. “Yeah, thank you though.”

“Well then,” Shindo turned to Bakugou and then back to you, hesitating just a bit about his next act act. His gaze turned serious and he lowered his voice so almost only you could hear him.  “Can… Can I talk to you in private for a moment?”

Shindo saw you opened your mouth slowly. “Oh! Bakugou was actually talking—“

“It’s fine, Y/N” Bakugou cut in, looking at Shindo and then back to you. “It’s not important, really. Actually…I think I’m going to head out.”

“Bakugou, wait—“

“Y/N,” Bakugou continued. “Seriously, we can chat again later some time. Plus, since you’re back, we can finally hang out like we used too.”

Shindo glared at Bakugou. He felt his heart ache when he heard that, knowing that the two of you are pretty close. But finally when you agreed, you and Shindo stepped aside for more space.

You turned your head at Shindo and noticed his serious expression. “Is there something wrong?”

Shindo blinked his eyes and cleared his throat. “N-no! I mean, not anything super important. Actually, Y/N… I just wanted to—“

Click!

Before Shindo could continue, your head shot to where the door was just closed and you saw Bakugou’s shadow exit out of the house. Shindo saw you turned your head back towards him as you bit your lip.

“Shindo, I’m so sorry. Can you give me a few minutes really quick?” You said with the kindest smile you had.

Shindo looked at you with a tinge of solemn in his eyes as he smiled. His gut feeling knew what you were about to do, but he didn’t want to force you to listen to him and so he smiled and nodded, earning you a brighter smile on your face that Shindo loved.

“Thank you.” You said as you grabbed his hand and giving it a squeeze.

Shindo saw you run towards the door, not hesitating a bit to open it immediately.

And when you exited, Shindo gave out a sigh. This was a lot harder than he expected. He headed towards the table near the door to pack up some of his things that he laid near, but his mistake was when he glanced up at the window.  His eyes widened and sucked in a breath when he saw you standing near the front gate with Bakugou.

It looked like it was all happening in slow motion.

The way you slipped your hand through his. The cute way you leaned in closer a few inches with the tip of your toes and kissed him on the cheek.

It wasn’t an actual real kiss, but still...Shindo felt a surge of jealously come crashing down on him. He swallowed a lump in his throat as a mixture of anger and sadness stirred in him. And as he saw you wave goodbye to Bakugou, Shindou looked away in sadness as his stomach dropped and his once cool smile now turned into a deep frown.

He felt like he lost you — even though he never really had you in the beginning.

But maybe there’s still a chance for him to confess how he feels.

Because even if you don’t share the same feelings as him...he’ll still find release… that at least the person he loves …. knows.  

Yeah… Shindo thought to himself quietly as he pulled out his sunglasses, getting ready to leave. He knew he couldn’t say it now…not after what he just witnessed. So with a sharp glide of his hand like a professional, he slipped on his sunglasses and beanie ever so smoothly and picked up his bags.

I’ll come back to you Y/N…you’ll see.

-------

A/N ~ oh gosh, yo shindo vs. bakugou. this love triangle just suddenly appeared and i’ll need to figure out how to unravel this mess. But thank you to everyone who read this fic! I know it is longer than my usual works so words cannot express how much it means to me. Thank you 💗 Please do not hesitate to send me a message through my inbox on about this fic (WHOSE TEAM R U ON?!) or about anything! Let’s just say...next chapter will def. be more about the charming Yo Shindo ;) 

[claudiasjeancregg]

and when you’re close (i feel like coming undone)

a west wing high school au, dedicated to @singingaboutwishingx and @thxngam for being supportive of this random piece! this is in no way finished, but i wanted to post what i have so far. don’t hate me if it sucks. title from taylor swift’s untouchable.

It didn’t happen like it would in the movies. They didn’t collide in a busy hallway with stars in their eyes, they didn’t form a spontaneous friendship before slowly realizing the depth of their feelings for each other, and they didn’t have the epic kiss during prom. Their hallway was a dusty classroom that the school newspaper had taken over, the spontaneous friendship was an uneasy partnership on the penultimate issue of the semester, and their prom was a party CJ threw to celebrate the semester finally ending. But, in the end, it was the same.

Josh had left the party, drunk on three shitty beers, accompanied by Sam and Donna as they planned how to get him home without getting them all grounded until way after college. Donna���s parents were still under the impression that their firecracker of a daughter was an innocent Midwestern girl, so she had to get home before the rest of them. Her sober state would ordinarily make her designated driver, if it weren’t for the fact that she still didn’t have her license. CJ couldn’t imagine being that young. They probably weren’t the best influences on someone who wasn’t legally allowed to drive, but it wasn’t like Donna gave a shit. She brought half of her mom’s vodka supply to the party without being asked, handing them to CJ with a nervous smile.

“Wow. So Midwestern hospitality really does live on in every generation,” CJ said with a smirk. She took one look at Donna’s nervous face and enveloped her in a hug. The younger girl seemed to let out a breath as she stepped inside.

Toby grabbed the vodka from CJ’s hands without asking, adding it to the pile of alcohol they had amassed. She stared at him.

“If it was $4 for each beer and $2 for each shot, more than 50 people, we made at least 300 bucks.” His fingers hadn’t stopped moving, tapping incessantly against his dark jeans.

“I spent—“

“60 for the beers and 20 for the stuff in the shots, I know. I haven’t even counted entrance fees.” Toby gave her what could almost be described as a smile, and her stomach dropped out like she was on a roller coaster ride.

CJ mentally shook herself— “Uh, I can count it by myself.”

“I don’t mind,” he said with an unusually earnest look in his eyes.

She moved next to Toby. They started to count the money, working in sync without needing to talk at all.

And then he stopped. Toby stopped, and turned to look at her.

“What?” CJ asked without turning, keeping her hands busy as a way to stop her mind.

“I- I think about you.” He turned to her, slowly covering her hands with his and looking at her. It felt like he was staring into her soul. “I think about you all the time, and I don’t know why, but I don’t want it to stop. You’re amazing, CJ. Not just at writing, or being Editor-In-Chief, but just at everything. You walk into a room and it’s like... I don’t know. It’s like everything stops. You make everything better.”

Her hands were stilled, now, and her mind was running at full speed.

Toby’s eyes were dark, dark like he was hiding a sky full of secrets like bright stars in his mind. God, he was beautiful. She’d never thought about a guy like that, especially not one in high school, but it was the only word that fit.

“Are you planning on telling me about your perverted fantasies or should I just assume—“

“No! Jesus, CJ.”

“You’re Jewish,” she quipped. She couldn’t stop smiling.

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean- never mind. I, it’s just not like that. Not that I don’t, God, look at you!”

“Toby.” CJ stared at him with an amused smirk. It wasn’t often that he was so... un-Toby. His sentences were ordinarily succinct and his voice sullen, but not right now. Right now, she was the one at a loss for words. But she had to say something, didn’t she?

“Start over. Say, say that again.”

“What?” She moved closer to him, the air between them crackling like an electric field.

“Say it again,” she whispered, placing a hand on his cheek. It was rough, like he had forgotten to shave before coming to the party.

“I think about you.”

CJ kissed him.

She grabbed Toby by the collar with her other hand and pulled him in, kissing him like all her problems could go away as long as their lips were touching. And for a moment, they did. His hands wrapped around her hips, pulling her closer and closer and closer until she could feel his heart beating. They were electric. She could feel it in every touch, every time he kissed her neck and she couldn’t help but gasp. And he didn’t seem to care— if anything, that spurred him on. She could taste the beer in his lips, could feel the calluses on his hand from years of writing. His hand slid underneath her black shirt, the one that awarded her a disapproving side-eye from her stepmom hours before. It felt like a distant memory, now. Toby splayed his fingers across her back and her breath suddenly disappeared.

How had she never noticed how good he was? How solid he felt under her touch, like she could put her weight on him and he would carry it— carry her— without hesitation; how he looked at her like she was a masterpiece instead of someone’s absentminded sketch. She was beautiful in his eyes. Somehow, she was perfect in his eyes. And to her, so was he. Toby was the road less traveled, the ground unbroken underneath her touch, someone who hadn’t yet learned her flaws and figured out exactly how to use them against her. He was good to her, and that was so refreshing. God, an hour ago she would have never imagined she would be making out with Toby Ziegler in her kitchen. She smiled, then, and he paused.

“What?” His voice was velvet in her ears, and it scared her how much she wanted him to keep talking.

“I just—“ she shook her head. “I’m glad you’re here,” CJ admitted. It felt stupid to say, but she did it anyway.

And Toby pulled her in, kissing her like she was a flower that bloomed under his touch. She felt the ghost of a kiss on her throat, and couldn’t help the giggle that came out. It was just so unlike him— the Toby that she knew, the one who yelled at Sam and terrified all the freshmen, was painfully hard to reconcile with the one touching her right now.

“Shut up,” he groused.

That did it. She cracked up— head thrown back, the perfect picture of a girl way too old to be this young.

Toby gave her a minute. He wasn’t offended by the laughter, like another guy might have been. Like other guys had been. That was CJ, that was how she was.

He lifted her up, carrying her onto the counter, and she gasped against his lips. As much as this could backfire tomorrow, she knew the truth as well as she knew her time. She wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.