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hollowfaith · 3 months

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🌌 + coffeeshop au hehe

Send ' 🌌 + a universe / au ' and I’ll make an AU verse based off of it.

in most universes, eiden works at an adult toy shop.

in this one, he owns a coffee shop.

it's a damned good one too, with regular customers and everything. his hires aren't anything to scoff at either—there's this really tall, really buff barista who comes straight from the rainforests of indonesia and can tell a bean's freshness just from smelling them (and sometimes brings his pet ferret to work, which is both a riot and a health hazard eiden has to work around for the inspectors), as well as the shyer, more inexperienced college graduate working part-time shifts to support his grad degree and his lovely grandparents at home, who gets really nervous about the espresso machine at first but later on becomes a pro and even teaches himself how to fix it when it breaks down.

yeah, quincy and yakumo are definitely his best hires (no favoritism though)!

alongside that he has his regular customers: the uptight head of some security firm who always comes in in the morning for eiden's strongest cup of caffeine before marching off to work (it takes him a month before he gets the guy to tell him his name is edmond so eiden can stop pretending he didn't google search him up the first day), the probably-is-a-CEO-or-a-mafia-heir-can't-decide-which business-coded guy who somehow never shows up in a suit, but just radiates money (and also had to be asked outside by eiden once, when he took out a fancy pipe and just started smoking indoors), the always wholesome priest of their local church, and the pair of high schoolers who drop by every week for snacks, short-and-pink dragging the cousin he always bullies (and who has a fatal weakness to eiden's hand-made croissants).

so all in all, life is good.

it maybe gets even a little better when he starts seeing some of his adult favorites and regulars after work on more, cough, intimate terms.

but then one day, he shows up.

towering, blond, handsome, and ridiculously well-dressed—the kind of guy you expect to ask his assistant to get him coffee, not come into a shop and order for himself.

and what the heck, he doesn't even ask for coffee, but a cup of tea. earl grey and a scone to go with it and—you know what, the customer is always right so eiden personally delivers the order with a flourish and a smile.

"first time here?" he asks, charming as always.

the guy barely looks at him. "yes. how long have you been open?"

eiden tells him and the guy asks more questions so surprisingly, they get along pretty well. by the time he's done it's getting to closing hours on a sunday, but it's quincy who grabs him during cleanup with a frown.

"what's wrong?" eiden asks him.

quincy just shakes his head. "he asked too many questions."

"maybe he was just interested in the person answering them?" eiden half-jokes. he doesn't think more of it, but the words do stick with him after that.

the blond guy doesn't come again, but a week later someone equally attractive shows up: black hair, green eyes, also pretty tall. he's dressed in a suit (but stiffly, it looks like he doesn't usually wear those kind of clothes) and introduces himself as klaus avenue, a representative of blah-and-blah company here to see the manager.

more importantly, he's part of a franchise firm here to buy them out.

of course eiden says no—this is his coffee shop and not some fancy brand name, dammit—but klaus only looks troubled. "it'll be better if you agree to the contract terms," he starts, "or else aurelius—i mean, my boss—will make trouble."

he probably means lawyers. well pooh pooh to them, eiden's got a lawyer too—on a technicality: his neighbor rei dabbles in law alongside his experiments and can hold his ground in a courthouse just fine.

when klaus finally sighs and asks him what would convince him, eiden challenges him to work for them instead to see why they're worth staying as an independent business.

to his surprise, klaus agrees.

somehow the arrangement lasts for weeks. it soon becomes apparent that klaus himself is using his "trial employment period" to delay the company's actions as much as possible, which works to an extent.

until the "boss" reappears.

eiden recognizes him at a glance: it's the same blond bastard who ordered tea and scones in his shop! he confronts the guy, but aurelius counters back by what he thinks he's doing hiring his boyfriend to work under him. apparently it's fine when aury does it since klaus is destined to sit on the board of directors for him one day, but not so in the case of some lowly coffee shop.

klaus disagrees. aurelius ignores him and somehow, eiden and his coffee shop gets caught in the middle of a cold war between their power couple. apparently this is all the impetus klaus needs to expose his boyfriend’s questionable business practices.

(eiden would ask, “why have him be your boyfriend at all?” but apparently this was the only way to stop aury from gaining a monopoly on the food and restaurant business? ??)

both sides use their best weapons: aurelius mobilizes the media to promote their agenda while klaus reaches out to grassroots movements for support. the disagreement reaches national TV and eiden’s coffee gets a buttload of publicity and business in the process. (it’s not all good, though: quincy has to wrestle with fame-hungry influencers crowding the doors while yakumo’s pressured to tears during one particularly busy lunch rush one day.) in the end eiden even has to close up shop for a few days for everyone’s mental health.

then rei calls with more bad news: aurelius has hired a bunch of big-clout, expensive lawyers to crush them in court and moreover, won olivine to his side in some form of weird guilt-trip reverse-pep-talk that has the poor priest trying to convince eiden to give in to the other side.

seeing this, klaus can’t sit still and proposes that eiden helps him with plan B: proposing marriage.

“wait, what?”

“if being his boyfriend was step 1, then marriage should be step 2.”

“will it really work with that bas—uh, i mean that president?”

“we can give it a try.”

“but klaus…if it works then that means you’ll have to marry him for real.”

to eiden’s shock, klaus only blushes in response.

“um, you don’t have to worry about that. i don’t mind…”

and so operation d-day (date day) commenced. at the very end klaus gets on his knees and proposes to aurelius right inside eiden’s coffee shop, surrounded by a marching band commanded by edmond with instruments rented from kuya (again, eiden still doesn’t know what he does) while eiden’s custom-baked sweets and yakumo’s tea and quincy’s silent stare looks on.

klaus thoughtfully mentions how special this moment is, and how much more special it’d remain if the coffee shop it happened in never changed but existed on its own independent of a franchise—and okay, a bunch of other mushy lines too, but honestly eiden can’t or doesn’t want to remember them when the blond bastard’s involved.

it works, and aurelius calls off everything to formally enter into an engagement with his beloved. he even agrees to the unholiest of unholies and lets his franchise workers unionize.

love, eiden marvels, really is a power that works wonders.

one year later, eiden’s coffee shop is thriving, his friends/lovers are all living well (though it took a few sessions to fix olivine back up again), and they’ve been invited to the “wedding of the century” for klaus and aurelius, all expenses paid, at some exotic location halfway across the world.

eiden gleefully closes the shop for his free vacation with his besties to witness the marriage of a guy he hates (& one that he thinks is all right, in the end).

#kleinstar #𝔔𝔲𝔢𝔯𝔶 ࿐ answered #𝔉𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔰 ࿐ drabbles #so i ended up cameo-ing the klein cast into this don't mind me #and it turned into another Aurlausverse setup with extra (eiden) pov oops lol #if there's any typos i blame me being under the cold cough

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rideonwings · 5 years

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The Talk

A/N: This idea was eating away at my brain for almost a month, but I never had time to sit down and write it… except at work. Oops.

A few things before we begin: While the premise of this is funny and awkward, this fic really isn’t meant to be. I feel like this is the conversation that needs to be had with teenage boys, more than just the regular ol’ birds and bees. We always see the super romantic fluffy fics with everyone getting off their first time and being instantly good at sex… let me tell you, not my experience. Therefore, I wanted a conversation about how the key to good sex is really about understanding your partner, rather than just making Hiccup instantly a sex god… I may do follow ups on this, but again… I can only write at work, so…. We’ll see.

I also really wanted to write from Stoick’s point of view, but not sure how well I actually captured him.

Comments & constructive criticism is always appreciated. I did write this really fast, so I apologize for any typos and mistakes.

Takes place after RTTE, before HTTYD2

Word vomit over. On ff.net here https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13358746/1/The-Talk

The Talk

As he slid off Skullcrusher with a thud, Stoick gave a deep sigh of relief. It was good to be back on home soil. As much as he appreciated the efficiency of riding dragons, he missed the days of sailing from a comfort perspective. Sitting abreast a large dragon for twelve hours at a time wore at his old joints.

Still, they’d made great time, arriving half a day earlier than expected thanks to Skullcrusher’s innate ability to find the quickest way home. Stoick chuckled as he removed his saddle from the dragon, watching the beast shake himself in relief, probably appreciating the break from a 300lb man riding him as well.

The sun was just beginning to dip beneath the western hills as the chief made his way towards his home, only to hear a familiar voice.

“Back early, Stoick?” Gobber’s voice rang out from the forge, the man’s head poking out from the service window. Stoick made his way towards the shop, ignoring his sore feet and the twinge in his back. As he walked through the low doorway, greeted by the welcome heat from the forge, he looked around for his son but came up empty. He sat heavily on a bench as Gobber handed him a tankard – he always kept a supply of mead in his shop for cold nights – and sat on Hiccup’s stool across from him, his own tankard attachment strapped to his arm. “How’d the talks go?”

Stoick took a long draw from his drink, sighing happily, before answering. “Good, Beserkers are willing to stick to the terms we agreed to last year, Alvin’s looking for a little more investment to help rebuild Outcast Island’s guard, but we were able to come to agreeable terms overall. There’s been less dragon hunter activity overall, but they’re keeping steady eyes on the west, just in case that Krogan creep reappears.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t take Hiccup with you, considering he helped form all those alliances in the first place.” Gobber replied, reaching down to fiddle with his peg-leg.

“The boy’s been flying all over trying to save the archipelago for going on three years, I figured he could use some time at home. He won’t have many years left where he can just be a boy, you know?” He surveyed his son’s workbench, neatly organized tools contrasting the scattered pile of papers no doubt filled with sketches of saddles and dragons. “Where is he, anyways?”

“He was in early this morning so I let him out about half-an hour ago. Astrid met him, I believe they were going to go for a flight before dinner.”

Stoick nodded, and the two continued their small talk for a few minutes before the chief grabbed his travel bag and bid his farewell.

As he approached his home, he noticed Toothless asleep on the roof, his tail gently swaying back and forth absently. Stoick was slightly surprised Hiccup would be back so soon – it was a beautiful night for a flight after all, and they wouldn’t have many good weather days left – but was too tired to think much of it as he reached for the door.

“Astrid.” He heard as the door opened quietly (Hiccup had fixed the creaky hinge months ago), a soft moan that sounded distinctly unlike his son’s normally pitchy voice.

To his shock (and mild horror), his eyes snapped to the source of the sound finding Astrid straddling Hiccup, who was laying on the floor by the fire, the two of them closely entwined (though thankfully clothed), with Astrid’s lips fastened tightly to the underside of his son’s jaw. Hiccup’s eyes were closed, his hands in her hair and gripping her upper thigh, just under her skirt, as Astrid chuckled softly against his throat.

It said something about how… involved… they were, that neither teen had noticed his approach – he wasn’t exactly subtle when he walked.

Stoick dropped his bag.

The two teens froze, whipping their heads towards the door and jumping apart, Hiccup scrambling for a nearby blanket and covering what was obviously a very uncomfortable situation in his trousers. Astrid darted a good five feet back from him, resting her back against a chair and looking at Stoick in horror, while Hiccup clamped his eyes closed as though he could block the whole situation out.

Feeling no more comfortable than they, Stoick cleared his throat. “Honey, I’m home.” He said, hoping to break the tension that had settled in the room like ice.

It wasn’t like he was entirely surprised. The two had become a couple over the last year or so, and their romance had been building for far longer than that. He’d seen them kiss a number of times, soft pecks on the cheeks to once, while looking for Gobber, spotting them tucked in the corner of the forge, wrapped so tightly around each other that he’d need two dragons to pull them apart if he’d wanted to. He wasn’t upset by it. They were clearly in love, and their relationship was solid and respectful.

He remembered being in that kind of swirling love, chasing Val into dark rooms, drawn by her scent and her coy smiles. They’d done far more than he’d just encountered. And, if he were honest with himself, he was pleased, pleased that after everything, Hiccup had found someone that made him happy the way Val had for him.

Still…

That embrace that he’d just interrupted, that had been going somewhere. Their flushed cheeks and shaking hands signaled that maybe this had been more than just a typical necking session.

They’d planned to have the whole night alone…

He hadn’t prepared for this. He hadn’t prepared Hiccup for this.

“Astrid,” he said softly. “Why don’t you head on home.” Astrid’s eyes darted to his, then to Hiccup, then back to her hands in her lap.

“Chief, sir… we weren’t… it was my idea…” Astrid stammered, sounding entirely unlike herself as Hiccup shifted awkwardly, moving towards his prosthetic, which Stoick just noticed he wasn’t wearing.

Stoick cut her off. “It’s alright, lass, you’ll get him back. I just want to speak with him.” She still didn’t move immediately, wringing her hands. “And I won’t say a word to your parents either.” He finished. Her shoulders relaxed slightly.

He grabbed his rucksack off the floor from where he’d dropped it and moved into his bedroom to give them a moment of privacy. Their soft whispers drifted into the room as he began to sort through his bag.

“I can stay, really.”

“No, go. It’ll only be more awkward.”

A short pause, followed by the soft sound of the press of lips together.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” Astrid sounded guilty as she said it, but as Stoick rounded the corner into the room again, she was helping Hiccup to his feet and pulling him into a hug. Almost defiantly, she pressed her lips to his one last time before gathering her things and heading to the door.

Before she could close it behind her, they heard her mutter to Toothless: “What kind of guard-dragon are you, anyways…” before stomping off.

Hiccup was sitting facing the fire when Stoick turned back to him, his thin shoulders set in a tight line, head hung. Stoick sighed exasperatedly.

“Oh honestly, boy, I’m not going to beat you.” He said, patting Hiccup’s shoulder as he walked behind him. He then walked to their small kitchen and grabbed two tankards, filling them with mead from the small barrel he kept on hand. He handed one to Hiccup as he sat in the chair nearest to him. Hiccup took it, still avoiding his gaze. The lad wasn’t much of a drinker, but they’d both need it to get through this conversation. “It’s not like I haven’t been in your shoes.” Stoick continued, “I was once your age and in love, I can’t blame you for acting on it.”

Hiccup raised his head for the first time, worrying his lip. “I… we… haven’t exactly…”

Stoick leaned forward, meeting those bright green eyes. “You haven’t done the deed?” Hiccup swallowed heavily, then shook his head. Relief coursed through Stoick. “Well, at least I’m not too late then. Go on, drink. You’ll be wanting it.” He paused, drinking from his own tankard for a moment. “How much have you done?” He asked, almost afraid of the answer.

Hiccup sputtered in his drink, coughing as it attempted to go down his airway. “Oh come now, son, if you’re not mature enough to talk about this, you’re certainly not mature enough to do it.”

Hiccup looked like he’d rather be eaten by a dragon than have this conversation, clearly forcing himself to speak as he said, “Nothing… below the waist…. I guess.” He said haltingly.

Stoick nodded, ignoring the squirming feeling in his stomach. It was weird to think of his little boy in this context, but he had to admit that Hiccup hardly looked like a little boy anymore. While still thin and wiry, his muscles had become more defined and he’d filled out significantly. It wasn’t as hard to think of him as a man. A man with urges. Stoick tried not to dwell on it too long.

“Dad, you don’t… I know how the…” Hiccup coughed, looking to the ceiling, like he was hoping it would come crashing down on his head. “…mechanics work.”

“Oh, I have no doubt of that. You can hardly get to your age and not hear the stories. Hel, you probably heard them before you knew what you were hearing.” He took a long drink from his tankard. “That’s not what I’m worried about, son. I trust you to be safe and do right by her if she were to come with child.”

Hiccup met his eyes, steeling himself before saying quietly, “She’s been taking the herbs1 for a while now, just in case.” He paused before adding. “Since before we were really together. She was worried what might happen if she were captured by Viggo’s men and they… well…” He swallowed thickly, squeezing his eyes tightly shut to block out the horror of that thought. He then took several long swallows of mead.

Stoick’s stomach dropped, both admiring Astrid’s intelligence and horrified that she had felt that might be necessary. “Smart girl.” Was all he said, taking another long drink himself.

His tankard was already nearly empty, and Hiccup wasn’t too far behind. He stood, taking the mug from his son and refilling them before returning to his chair. “Look son, I’m not here to scold you, I’m not even here to tell you not to do it.” He said, reaching forward to hand him his mug, allowing his hand to rest on his shoulder for a moment. “You’ve grown in to a fine young man, you’ll be nineteen in a few short months, you’ve got a solid, healthy relationship with a smart, strong woman. You could do a lot worse.” He chuckled, and Hiccup smiled weakly at him, shrugging his shoulders.

“I’m not telling you not to do it,” Stoick continued, leaning back in his chair, “and I’m not going to give you the typical speech most fathers tell their sons.” Hiccup paused with his tankard halfway to his lips.

“What do you mean?” He responded, confusion lacing his voice. “What…” he trailed off.

Stoick stayed silent for a minute, organizing his thoughts in his head, remembering his first night with Valka. How she’d cried, how horrified and ashamed he’d been to have hurt her, how she’d been so torn up in thinking she wouldn’t make a good wife because she couldn’t enjoy it, how it had taken them a long time to find ways to make her enjoy it the way he did. And some men never tried to learn. Hiccup may not have Stoick’s bone structure or bulk, but without the proper care…

Hiccup would not be one of those brutes.

“Son…” he started, his voice softer, and Hiccup’s eyes showed surprise at the change in tone. “Those men, the men that sing bawdy tales of conquering women and ‘taking what’s theirs’…those men are not real men. Any man that has to tell others what a man he is in bed, is no man you’d want to imitate.”

Hiccup nodded, opening his mouth to speak but Stoick stopped him. “You know that I have no tolerance for rapists on my island, it’s the quickest way to get sent to Outcast Island for sure. But what most men don’t understand is that even in their own marriages, everything should be equal. If the woman isn’t interested, or isn’t enjoying it and the man insists, that’s the same as rape in my mind. It’s just much harder to enforce.”

“I’d never…You know I’d never” Hiccup swallowed, moving to put his mug down before changing his mind and taking another drink. He waited for his father to continue, obviously lost for what to say.

“Look, son… here’s the simplest way to put it.” Stoick said, forcing himself to meet his son’s eyes, which were big and concerned. “Sex, it’s a powerful thing. It’s one of the best feelings in the world for a man, especially when you’re with someone you love. Once you start, you’re not going to want to stop.

“But for a woman… it’s different. Yes, if you take the time and learn her body, if you really take the time to care, it’s the same for them, you’ll have a wonderful relationship and many happy encounters.” Stoick cleared his throat, forcing himself not to think too hard about the fact that this was his son he was speaking to, trying not to picture anything beyond what he had to.

“But if you force it, if you rush into it and hurt her, you’ll hate yourself for it for the rest of your life. They’re more complicated in their pleasure than we are, son. They can be hurt easily and might not say a thing about it because they don’t know they shouldn’t have to.”

He drained the last of his mug, setting it down on the table in front of him. Hiccup followed suit, staring at it intensely, though his cheeks were red from the alcohol and conversation topic.

“I’d never hurt her.” The young man said finally, “You know I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I love her too much.” He met his father’s eye for a moment. “Anyways, she’d probably clobber me if I did, even by accident.”

“You’d be surprised.” Stoick replied. “Many women think it’s their burden to bear, that they have to go through that just to bear children. Others know different, but many think that sex is not for them to enjoy, just to service their husbands.” He shrugged. “We generally try to dissuade that thinking here, but it’s an old way that’s carried through many generations. Astrid’s a warrior, she might just bite through the pain and not admit to it.”

Hiccup looked dismayed, standing up and beginning to pace. “Then how do I know?” The alcohol had obviously loosened his tongue a bit, allowing him to speak more freely without as much embarrassment. “How do I make sure she never feels pain?”

On one of his passes, Stoick grabbed his elbow, his arm dwarfed in the chief’s enormous hand, and pulled him back to his chair.

“You communicate with her. You talk to her, find out what she likes, what she doesn’t… you go slow and take your time and learn her. I can’t tell you what Astrid would like anymore than I could tell you what Gobber would like…” He paused, scowling. “Eh, scratch that, I know too much about that…. The point is, everyone is different, so as long you take your time and are patient and caring, you’ll be fine. The first time will always be a bit painful, just since it’s new, but be gentle and take your time, and you’ll be just fine, son.”

Stoick stood up and walked the short distance to Hiccup, putting his hands on those small shoulders and crouching to meet his eyes. “Hiccup, I know you. You’re the kindest person I know, I don’t doubt you’ll be good to her. I just want you to have the best relationship you can with Astrid, and not make some of the mistakes I did when I was young.” Hiccup looked at his father questioningly. “I made up for it, in the end, but still. I’d rather you not have to.”

Hiccup nodded, draining the rest of his tankard before taking a deep breath. “Thank you, Dad.” He said quietly, “I… I appreciate that you care enough to tell me this. And…sorry, you had to come home to that.”

Stoick laughed. “It’s alright, laddie, like I said, I’ve been there in the past. Now, it doesn’t look like you were planning on cooking dinner tonight, what do you say we head down to the hall?”

It took them a minute to gather their things and make their way out the door. Stoick noted with amusement that Hiccup’s feet were a bit unsteady from the mead, his cheeks flushed and his eyes a little hazy. The boy had come a long way from the talking fishbone he’d been, but he still lacked a Viking’s ability to hold his drink.

As they entered the hall, Hiccup walked beside him as the villagers welcomed Stoick home, accepting pats on the back from the people who had deemed him the ‘Pride of Berk” – a name that still made Hiccup blush fervently.

After filling their plates, they sat down with their respective friends, Hiccup flanked by Tuffnut, who handed him a mug of wine, and Fishlegs. Stoick watched in amusement as his son tried to pretend he hadn’t just had an extremely awkward encounter, drinking from his mug perhaps a bit more heavily than he should.

After a moment, Astrid appeared from the crowd, looking over to Stoick tentatively before walking over to her betrothed with a confidence that the chief was sure was for his benefit. Fishlegs easily made room for her and she sat beside Hiccup, leaning in close and resting her forehead against his own. After a moment, Hiccup dipped his head into the corner of her neck, pulling her tightly to him and whispering something. The other riders carried on obliviously, Tuff and Snotlout arguing back and forth about something nonsensible and Fishlegs making eyes at Ruff across the table.

The two lovers held each other in their own bubble for a few moments longer, soft words exchanged between the two of them, before separating. Hiccup started to eat and Astrid pressed a kiss to his hairline before standing. She made her way to the casks of water and poured two tankards for them, before looking reluctantly towards Stoick, catching his eye. Clearly fighting with herself, she finally gathered the courage to walk his way, stopping by the enormous man with an odd look on her face.

Stoick waited for her to speak, the adults around him engrossed in conversation with hardly a care for the girl’s presence. She leaned in to him.

“Look… I don’t know what you said to him…” She started awkwardly, her voice barely above a whisper. “All he said is that you weren’t mad, and that he never wanted to hurt me, never wanted to disappoint me.” Stoick smiled softly, encouragingly. “I just…” She continued, taking a deep breath. “Thank you… for understanding. And for not being mad.” She paused. “I really do love him, you know.” She said, nodding at him before turning on her heel and returning to Hiccup’s side.

Stoick smiled, watching the girl – no, the woman – move back across the room, sitting beside his son and pressing another kiss to his cheek.

They’d be just fine.

1 I know that herbs probably aren’t adequate birth control…. But come on, we’re in a universe with dragons. I’m calling that sufficient if I want to.

#hiccstrid #hiccstrid fanfiction #hiccstrid fanfic #hiccup/astrid #Hiccup Haddock #httyd #stoick #fanfic #how to train your dragon #fanfiction #writealoud

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onewaywardwitch · 5 years

Text

Just A Typo (10/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Hacker!Reader

Summary: It was a simple challenge between a very competitive group of friends. A challenge that ended very differently than anticipated.

Warnings: Pure fluff

Word Count: 1941

A/N: I’m back! Yay! Thank you all so much for all your kind words, I’m really loving writing this series. Exams are finally over which means regular updates! Imagine that...

There is a small scene in this part that was not my idea. I got it from a tumblr post that I saw ages ago and can no longer find. So full credits go to the person who came up with the idea! There’ll be a series of ***** beside the scene.

“I'm going to miss being able to feel my arms,” I groaned as Nat knocked me down to ground once again.

“Come on, get up,” she said, smirking at my exhausted form on the floor. I didn’t answer her at first. Instead I slowly got into the fetal position and covered my eyes.

“If I don’t look up, she won't be there, if I don’t look up, she won't be there,” I muttered repetitively. Her laughter from above me confirmed that my chanting did nothing.

I crawled as slowly as I possibly could until I was facing her and scowled.

“This is pointless.”

“Stop slouching.”

We had a mini stare off before I coped on that I was arguing with Natasha Romanoff and I should probably just shut up and get this over and done with.

I didn’t notice Bucky and Steve coming in to watch us train. Or rather, watch Nat look bored as she effortlessly knocked me down.

“Shouldn’t you actually teach me instead of just acting like I'm capable of defending myself?”

“I've found it's better to learn on the job.”

“You just wanna hit me.”

She shrugged in reply, not easing my nerves in the slightest.

She swung her fist in my direction, and instead of attempting to block it, I just walked off the training mat.

“I cannot be anywhere near her. This woman is trying to kill me!”

Steve shook his head at my statement. “Come on, I'm sure you're learning plenty.”

“Well, I did learn what a treadmill looks like,” I replied gesturing in the general direction of where the treadmills were across the gym. “But all I've learned from Nat is that I'm hopeless.”

“Here, try this,” Bucky said, holding out a knife to me. I stared at him in disbelief. Steve raised an eyebrow at his friend, but Nat wasn’t fazed in the slightest.

“A knife?”

He looked surprised at my reaction, as if he expected me to welcome the idea of knife-wielding. I'm sure he thought he was being helpful. “You're shockingly terrible at self-defence without any weapons. This might help. How else are you going to defend yourself?”

“I figured my winning personality would be enough for them to leave me alone.”

“And if not?”

I paused for a moment, mulling over my other options before I muttered in a small voice, “A very loud battle cry.”

Steve snorted and even Nat tried to hold in a laugh. Bucky shook his head, pocketing the knife and walking out, a defeated look etched onto his face.

~~~~~

Angie and Becca decided they would grace me with their presence and managed to save me from another training session with Nat. Tony took it upon himself to make sure the kitchen was always fully stocked with tea for Angie and a lot of Haribo for me. He didn’t get anything for Becca. Instead, he swore that she had his full permission to attack any of the Avengers with pillows if she felt they screwed something up. Or if she just felt like it.

The kitchen was empty for a change. Some privacy was rare in a tower as busy as this one and I was grateful for the time to catch up with my friends.

“What’s it like living here?” Becca asked while admiring the toaster (“It's just so shiny!”). “Is it as awesome as everyone imagines? Do they spend all their time training? Does Captain America just walk around with his shirt off all the time, or only sometimes?”

I thought back to how I spent nearly forty minutes explaining the difference between regular flour and self-rising flour to Bucky yesterday. “It's definitely an experience.”

Angie raised an eyebrow at me, a small smile playing on her lips. “You realise you're living the dream millions of people have had?”

“Yeah, well when you watch Captain America try to work a laptop it starts to lose its appeal.”

*****

“Hey, have any of you seen Bruce anywhere?” Tony asked the few Avengers that were gathered in the kitchen. Unfortunately, his words were drowned out by the sound of Black Sabbath’s ‘Iron Man’ blaring throughout the room.

A few of the teammates looked surprised. The rest just sighed.

“Not again,” Steve muttered. Him and Tony shared a knowing look. Bucky stared at Steve, a frown on his face and he looked around for where the music came from. He glanced at Wanda who was giggling at the look of pure exhaustion on Tony’s face. She noticed him looking at her and explained the situation, grinning widely.

“Y/N’s got bored lately so she hacked into F.R.I.D.A.Y. and has her play certain songs every time certain people walk into the kitchen,” she explained and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.

“You can laugh now,” Steve said, folding his arms across his chest and huffing. “It's not funny when you get up at three in the morning for a glass of water and the American anthem starts playing at full volume.”

Sam laughed, choking on whatever it was he was eating. Bucky retaliated by whacking him on the back with his stronger arm. Sam went flying off the sofa, glaring at Bucky who looked away innocently.

“I don’t blame her for being bored cooped up in here, but why don’t you just get F.R.I.D.A.Y. to stop it?” Clint questioned Tony.

It was a fair question, and everyone turned to Tony, waiting on his reply. His ears tinged the faintest shade of pink, which was a rarity for the ever-confident billionaire.

“Becauseshelockedmeout,” he mumbled quickly.

“What was that?”

“She locked me out! I have no idea what she’s done but she changed F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s protocol so the one thing I can’t access are the speakers around the tower. I'm incredibly proud and impressed but, I gotta say, my ego’s taken a hit.

~~~~~

At that precise moment, I walked in, failing to notice the array of looks I was being given. From exasperation to pure amusement, everyone seemed to have mixed feelings regarding my antics.

It took a moment for me to feel the number of eyes glued on my figure. I immediately decided to play the nonchalant, nothing-is-going-on card.

“Who had the last poptart?” I asked, looking everywhere except at Tony, Steve, and Nat, who were the only people I had edited songs for. So far.

Steve cleared his throat, but I focused my attention on Wanda.

“Was it you? I knew you were eating all my food.”

He coughed slightly again so I turned to him.

“I have a great doctor in the city if that cold is bothering you.”

Tony tried his hardest not to smile, stepping forward to talk to me.

It took nearly twenty minutes for our discussion to end, during which he asked (begged) me to turn off the music. My immediate response was accusing him of trying to inhibit my creative musical expression.

I could tell Tony didn’t know how he felt about meeting his quick-witted equal. We were similar in more ways than he would admit. The only difference was that I didn’t flaunt my abilities as he did. I preferred to remain under the radar while he enjoyed the life of celebrity genius. It gave me an idea of what my life could have been like, had I shown my skill to large companies years ago. The thought of it made me shudder. There was no way I would have been able to cope with the press Tony does all the time. Each day I spent in his company made me respect him even more. It was refreshing to see him as a real and generous person and not the self-centred man the media often painted him as.

~~~~~

Bucky was looking for absolutely nobody because for once he had nothing to do and was planning on finally understanding all the hype around ‘Game of Thrones’, when he caught sight of Y/N sitting on the floor against the wall of the corridor with her laptop on her lap. She hadn’t seen him yet and he contemplated going a different way so he wouldn’t make a fool of himself in front of the tower’s resident hacker. God knows every time he was left alone with her, he said something stupid or tripped up. He was convinced she thought he was an idiot, and he couldn’t blame her.

~~~~~

I looked up as I heard heavy boots approaching me. Bucky was nervously chewing on his lip as he stood in front of me. There was silence for a moment, both of us wondering if we should be the first one to speak up.

“How are you?”

“What are you working on?”

How convenient that we both spoke at exactly the same time. I could only imagine that I had a blush on my face that matched the one growing on his.

I nodded at the screen in front of me. “I'm just changing around F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s protocols before Steve wets himself every time he goes into the kitchen at three in the morning. Which, apparently, is a regular thing.”

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, he doesn’t have the best sleeping schedule.” He gestured towards the empty space beside me and I patted the ground, not even hesitating for him to sit beside me.

He kept silent at I worked on my laptop. He was watching what I was doing but I could tell he was completely lost.

I glanced over slyly and nearly laughed as his eyes went back and forth at record speed, doing his best to scan and understand what the lines of numbers and words meant.

“All of this is F.R.I.D.A.Y. You're looking at everything she’s responsible for.” I pointed at a specific few lines, drawing his attention instantly. “See that there? That’s the code that stops unauthorised individuals from entering the private floors. And down here,” I moved down the screen. “is how she analyses fight patterns.”

“And this is how Tony gets an immediate notification whenever someone blocks the disposal with coffee grounds.”

Bucky’s eyes widened and he stared at me in shock. “He knows about that?”

“It's a common problem.” I giggled slightly, casting my eyes down the corridor. “I'm surprised no one has come down this way yet. This is normally one of the busier hallways.”

~~~~~

Becca came to visit her friend and just so happened to bump into Tony as she searched the tower. They walked together for a bit, casually chatting about nothing in particular. That’s when they came across Y/N and Bucky, sitting very close together. Becca grabbed Tony by his shirt and pulled him back around the corner and down the halls they came through, as quickly and quietly as she could manage. By the time she let go of him, he appeared relatively flustered.

“What the hell was that?”

“Y/N has been babbling on about Bucky for ages. They're sitting there talking and being all obliviously lovey dovey, so nobody is going to interrupt them, capiche?”

Tony took a step back, the intense look on Becca’s face scaring him ever so slightly.

They stood guard a few corridors away from the couple, stopping anyone from heading down that way. It wasn’t long before Steve tried passing them, to no avail.

“Come on guys, what’s the issue? The closest bathroom is down that way,” he complained.

“Sort out your bladder issue somewhere else, Rogers. My best friend’s love life is on the line here.”

That got his interest.

When Bruce attempted to cross them, he was stopped by Steve who had joined the cause.

“Bucky needs to get a life” was Steve’s only response.

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