#maybe once i have an idea of how to stop wallowing about my dad | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

phantomrose96 · 3 years

Text

Fenton Fact

Danny leaned back against the red brick chimney of the Casper High roof, and he looked across the stretch of land rolling far off from the building top. For a place so off-limits, so hidden-away from the normal bustle of the school, the view really wasn’t anything special. Sure, the school was decently tall, but it overlooked the staff parking lot, and the empty Casper High tennis courts, and the back of a strip mall two blocks over with the recently-haunted laundromat.

Not that it mattered. It took more than tall-building-views to impress Danny anyway, even the nice ones. And he wasn’t up here for the view.

Danny let his eyes drift shut.

“Sup loner, room for one more?”

Danny startled, and it wasn’t Sam’s voice specifically that startled him. (He’d grown used to her bursting from his Fenton Phone earpiece during most nightly patrols.) He’d just lulled himself a bit too comfortably into the idea that no other human could follow him to the top of the locked rooftop of the Casper High building.

“Did I just surprise a ghost?” Sam asked. “Should I do it again with a ‘boo’?”

“Haha,” Danny answered with a fake chuckle. He blinked himself back to prickly awareness, drowsiness batted away like dust bunnies, and stared up at Sam. “I’m not surprised. I just wasn’t expecting anyone else to be on the roof. How did you even—”

Sam was a few steps ahead of him. In explanation, she waggled the Fenton-branded grappling hook gripped in hand.

Danny leaned back with a faux-exasperated sigh. “Since when do you even have a grappling hook?”

“Since I told your mom it would be a wildly cool line of gear to add to the Fenton brand.”

“Does this mean my mom now has a grappling hook too?”

“Yes. And your dad. And Jazz. And Tucker.”

“Great. When I go home and all the ceiling fans are torn down I’ll know why.”

A gentle silence lapsed over them, punctuated with the swell of fall wind.

“So…” Sam continued. “Can I sit here?”

“Huh?” Danny looked at her, anchoring his drifting thoughts once more. “Oh, yeah. I thought the ‘yeah’ was implied.” Danny shuffled a bit to the side, back still resting against the chimney. He patted the spot he cleared. “What am I gonna tell you? No?”

“Just making sure.” Sam stowed the grappling hook to the side of her belt and settled into the spot beside Danny, feet outstretched. “In case maybe you wanted some alone time.”

“’Alone time’ isn’t really something I get anymore. I’ve had about a hundred-too-many ghosts crash through my bedroom for that.”

“So why the roof?”

“Roof is more for uh…” Danny twirled his hand, “‘less adoring crowds’ time. ‘Less classmates ogling me’ time. You can stay so long as you don’t ask me to sign anything.”

“I was never interested in the parasocial or capitalistic value of celebrity signatures. Besides, you cross your ‘t’s weird.”

Danny replied with a half-hearted chuckle. His line of sight drifted into the middle-distance again, unfocused.

“Is it getting to be too much?” Sam asked.

“Hmm?” Danny answered, eyes shifting back to her.

Sam gestured broadly, hands and arms outstretched. “You know just. All this. Everything.”

“…Nah.”

Another small silence grew from the cracks in the concrete between them.

“Paulina and Star are looking for you. You know that, right?”

“Oh, are they?”

“Danny. You knew that.”

“Maybe.”

“…And you’re not interested in seeing what they want?”

“I figure Tucker is keeping them busy.”

“You’re unfortunately right.”

“Phantom Phacts?”

“Phantom Phacts.” Sam nodded. “I made him promise to leave out any embarrassing trivia from the trivia section.”

“Thanks for that,” Danny answered. “Is his presentation any good?”

“You think I’ve ever stuck around to hear it?”

“Fair.”

Sam pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs and set her chin to her knees, staring forward.

“You’re really not interested in sitting with Star and Paulina for lunch?”

“Not really. Why? Is that bad?”

“No, it’s absolutely great. But I’m…” Sam shrugged, “surprised, I guess. I feel like usually you’d jump at the opportunity. And I kinda don’t think you’re refusing because you’ve suddenly recognized the banality of A-lister status.”

“Maybe that is what happened, you don’t know that. Down with capitalism, Sam.”

“Danny.” Sam tilted a fraction to face him. “I’m worried that this is all too much for you, and you just won’t admit it.”

Danny sat with the silence that followed. “I don’t think it’s too much. I’m just—I dunno. I mean. I’m just not feeling it.”

“…You can admit if it’s overwhelming, Danny. I’ll be the first to shut down ‘Phantom Phacts’ if it is.”

“Nah, nah let Tucker have his fun. He’s not the problem. It’s… I dunno.” Danny pushed himself taller against the chimney, upright now and unslumped. “It’s a little bit overwhelming, I guess, maybe. But it’s kind of what I expected. Maybe even a little easier than I was expecting. I thought I’d be dealing with a lot of Phantom-hate once everyone knew but, I guess that kind of died down a long time before everyone knew.”

“Valerie holding you at gunpoint in the cafeteria wasn’t Phantom-hate?”

“We’ve had a lot of good talks since then, okay?”

Sam let out a quiet laugh. “So then… why aren’t you sitting with the popular kids right now?”

“I just didn’t want to, I guess?”

“And why didn’t you want to?”

“It just didn’t really feel right.”

“Is it because of me?” Sam asked, another side-long glance cast to Danny. “Because you can sit with them. I’ll still make fun of you if you do, but you don’t have to… not sit with them because of me.”

“What? Huh—no. Nah, nah I mean I do care what you think Sam. But I mean if I wanted to be sitting with them then I would so. I mean. You don’t have to worry that it’s you.”

“So then what is it?”

Danny took a moment to answer.

“It’s just… it’s a feeling. I dunno. Like.” Danny spread his arms out. “The invitation is wrong? Or the invitation isn’t actually for me?”

“…The invitation is for Phantom instead?”

Pensive indecision set into Danny’s eyes. “That’s not totally it. Because I mean I AM Phantom. I’m not not me when I’m Phantom. Maybe I trash-talk a little more in ghost form but I’m not… not me. That’s still just me. You know that.”

“Right, yeah, no Danny. It just sounded like that’s what you were saying.” Sam let her legs slide out a few inches. “So what are you saying?”

Danny sat with the question. “When the news first picked up on Phantom, way back when—Inviso-Bill?—that wasn’t really anyone, you know? They made up some spooky icon to make the news about. Which was just like, whatever, not me. I didn’t even take ‘Inviso-Bill’ too personally because that just wasn’t me. And even when I stopped being an enemy and started actually being ‘Danny Phantom’… no one actually got it right, you know? They kind of came up with a character for me. Just some hero. I listen to the news and how they talk about me and I think, even now, I think ‘That isn’t me.’”

Danny pulled his knees in, a mirror to Sam, and stared down into his tattered jean fabric. “And when everyone learned I’m Phantom I guess I kind of expected them to be like ‘Oh it’s Fenton’ and then that fake version of Phantom would go away.” Danny raised his eyes to Sam, far more bothered than before. “…I think the opposite happened. They don’t look at Phantom and think ‘oh it’s Fenton’. They look at Fenton and think ‘oh it’s Phantom.’ I think Danny Fenton got put away. I think the person I was for 14 years doesn’t exist to them anymore. Whoever they invited to lunch isn’t me. He doesn’t exist. But I’m suddenly responsible for him. And it’s not even me.”

Danny paused. “And now I’ve been wondering like… how long until I disappoint them? You know? How long until I do something that makes them angry because I’m not doing the thing they expect ‘Phantom’ to do? How long until they start seeing there’s too much ‘Fenton’ in me and they start to hate me for it all over again? For them to really like me, I don’t think I can be me, and I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to be someone who doesn’t just disappoint everyone in the end.”

A long gust of wind swept between them, stealing away the seconds.

“…So now you’re hiding on the roof.”

“It was the easiest solution to my problem.”

“But not a lasting one, if you ever want to get down.” The wind settled, and Sam swept a lock of hair behind her ear. “…Do you care if you disappoint them?”

Danny shrugged. “I. Yeah. I think. I don’t—I don’t think I totally know for certain, but I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“Well, you’re not going to disappoint me, or Jazz, or Tucker—and if Tucker does act disappointed over any lost Phantom Phacts ventures I’ll whap him over the head. But I mean, we know who you are. We’re not going to be disappointed realizing you’re not ‘Phantom.’ The worst you can do is land right back where you started.”

“And what if I started acting like ‘Phantom’ instead. Would that disappoint you guys?”

“Do you want to act like ‘Phantom’?”

Danny paused. “…No. Not at all.”

“Then don’t. It’s that simple.” Sam stood, and she stretched until her back popped. “It’s not your responsibility to uphold whatever delusions people project onto you. I won’t hesitate to call them out on it. You know I’m good at being direct, and you know I’m even better at making enemies.”

“I don’t wanna be mean to them though when they’re finally being nice.”

“They’re not being nice, they’re projecting. If their niceness to you is conditional on you fitting to the box they created for you, that’s not nice, that’s manipulation, and it’s exactly the root of my ever-frothing disdain for popularity. It’s always some element about popular people that people latch on to, and they can fit the box that people give them, or they can reject it and find themselves wallowing amongst us outcasts. Don’t do that to yourself, Danny. Don’t live in their chains.” Sam tilted her head to Danny. “You spend all day trapping ghosts into tight little boxes and you can’t even recognize when it’s happening to you. I think you’d be better at spotting this.”

“It’s a cylinder, really. The thermos. It’s a cylinder. And don’t say ‘box’ so much. You might summon company.”

“You just said ‘box’ though.”

“I did say ‘box’.”

“Box.”

Sam laughed, noise trailing light on her lips. “…Feeling any better?”

“A little, I think… I still… I still think I... it's not as easy to just say 'I don't care if I disappoint them.' It's still scary. I don’t want to end up proving them right that they were right to hate me all along.”

“Are the opinions of Dash Baxter really the ones to be holding on a pedestal? Is his opinion of you really more important than what you think of yourself? You’ve been through this with the A-listers already. Don’t torture yourself again just because the door is wide open. I promise you Danny, it won’t make you happy.”

“So I should just do whatever makes me happy?”

“Every time.” Sam nodded.

"Even if I'm a total disappointing loser?"

"All the better."

"Even if I blow any chance I have with Paulina out the window?"

“Wouldn't have it any other way. Got any idea what you intend to say to her when she finds you?”

Danny paused. He pushed himself standing. “Maybe I could talk her ear off about NASA until she gets bored of me?”

“Excellent. Can I join? I have a lot to say about SpaceX and private capital encroaching on space exploration.”

“Does that apply to me? I’ve been to space. Am I private capital?”

“You’re not private capital.”

“Then what am I?”

“Annoying.” Sam locked arms with Danny, and dragged him along forward, her combat boots clunking against the rooftop. “And my friend. Come on. I’ll brief you on everything wrong with privately-owned space exploration while we’re rappelling down the side of the building with my sick and cool as hell grappling hook.”

“I can fly.”

“And I have a sick grappling hook. What’s your point.”

“It’s probably called a ‘Fenton Hook.’”

“Is that a Phantom Phact?”

Danny shook his head, and a smile pulled on his lips. “Nah. I think it’s a Fenton Fact.”

#danny phantom #dp #dp fanfiction #-lobs this over the fence-

1K notes · View notes

maddiwrites · 3 years

Text

Scared to Love

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: You go from being best friends, to friends with benefits, to strangers with JJ Maybank. You tried your best not to fall in love with your best friend, but how could anyone not love the infamous Pogue?

Note: Sorry, I really suck a summaries. But I wanted to post something outside of my OBX rewrite so I hope you like it(:

Word Count 3.3k

Warnings: Mentions of abuse and divorce.

The beach is loud with teenagers holding red solo cups and cheering on their friends as they compete to out drink one another. The sky is dark and glittered with bright stars, but the night is still young, filled with both promises and threats. It’s another typical Friday night, surrounded by friends and strangers alike. You usually thrive at these kind of parties - the queen of beer pong, the hot girl dancing in the middle of the crowd like no one’s watching. You attract attention from all Outer Banks social groups - Pogues, Kooks, and Tourons. But now...

Now you wish you could hide from all of it.

If it were up to you, you would be at home, locked away in your room, watching Nicholas Sparks movies until you were no longer capable of crying. But lucky for you, you have best friends who don’t allow you to wallow in self pity. Sure, they let you cry on their shoulder, they rub your back, and tell you everything’s going to be okay. They compliment you. They tell you that you’re gonna go far in life and that you don’t need any man to make you feel like you deserve the world. But they also make sure that you don’t stay in your dark place. They would drag you out of there by your teeth and skin if they needed to. At the time, you can be pissed about it, but you learn to love them for it.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you smile once tonight.” John B walks up to you and offers a teasing smile. He moves to stand next to you, shoulder to shoulder, as you look out into the depth of the party from the edge.

“I’m trying to find a reason to,” You answer honestly. Your eyes stay trained on the blonde Pogue with a cute redhead wrapped in his arms. They’re swaying to the beat of the music that plays loudly through someone’s portable speaker. They both look happy, and the sight of it makes you physically nauseous.

John B follows your stare and sighs when he sees what’s got you so down. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two -”

“It doesn’t matter.” You sip on your now lukewarm beer and tear your eyes away from the happy couple, or whatever they want to call themselves.

“It does,” John B says, making you look at him. “Because I can’t be in the same room as my two best friends anymore. I mean, seriously, what happened? Did you guys have a fight or something?”

You gnaw at your bottom lip and flick your gaze down at the sand. What you and JJ had was different than what you have with the rest of your best friends. The two of you have always been the closest. Your friend group first started as just you, JJ, and John B. John B always felt like the brother you never had. You loved and fought like siblings usually do. He told you the cold hard truth even when you didn’t want to hear it. You loved him, but not like you loved JJ. You were always aware of the way your heart swelled when JJ laughed, or how your skin tingled when he touched you, or how your chest tightened when he would come back to the Chateau and brag to everyone about his most recent hookup from the night before. The blonde held a special place in your heart that no body else could replace. Not even now.

It all started when you and JJ were left alone at the Chateau for an entire night. John B was somewhere else - probably with Sarah Cameron, who knows. JJ had come from another run-in with his dad and asked that you stay with him because he didn’t want to be alone. The two of you ended up getting high off of JJ’s good stuff. You think it was the most you ever smoked in your life. The two of you ordered pizza, and laughed at dumb youtube videos. For a few hours, you forgot that JJ had an abusive father or that you were caught between a custody battle with your own parents.

You don’t remember how or when it happened, but the air grew thick with tension and neither of you were laughing anymore. You remember looking into his blue eyes, the color of the ocean, which you always said fit the surfer perfectly. Next thing you know, his lips are on yours - softly at first, then into a rhythm that most resembled an insatiable hunger. He took you into the room he claimed as his, and then....and then he claimed you.

You woke up first that morning. Your stomach swirled with some kind of emotion you couldn’t exactly pin when you looked over at JJ’s bare back as he slept on his stomach. Maybe it was excitement, joy, bliss. Or maybe it was dread, guilt, fear. It wasn't a secret that you and relationships...well, they never ended well. You never stayed long enough to catch serious feelings for the other person. Kie seems to think it’s due to the disastrous relationship your own parents had, and you couldn’t help but wonder if she was right. Your parents spent the second half of your life tearing each other down, competing over who was able to hurt the other one more. You spent a lot of nights hiding under your covers as if that would protect you from your mothers screams or glasses breaking from your father’s rage. You saw what loving someone could do to people. Loving someone can make you hate someone.

And you didn’t want that to happen with JJ. You knew you were already in too deep. You became a bubbly school girl whenever he came around since you were ten. But you refused to let you and JJ become like your mom and dad. If you wanted to keep JJ around, you we’re going to have to keep him at a distance.

You knew you should have stopped it after the first time, but JJ was like a magnet you couldn’t detach yourself from. You both made a silent agreement that this would be a no strings attached situation. So off the books that even your closest friends didn’t know about it. At first it was fun and harmless - each of you got what you were craving the most, whether it be the comfort of the other person’s company or the high only that person could give the other. But inevitably, lines started to blur. You found yourself staring at your phone on days you didn’t spend together, wearing his hoodies just to feel closer to him because it hugged you in his scent, staying latched to his side at boneyard and Kook parties. You didn’t know if he felt the same way, and you didn’t let yourself find out. You put space between yourself and the infamous Pogue, only showing up in the middle of the night once a week instead of three to four. You tried talking to Tourons at parties - never going home with them but always having them as a back up option. You chose the seat furthest away from him during lunch at The Wreck, and made up excuses as to why you couldn’t go surfing with him in the early mornings. Slowly, you tried to go back to the way things were, but the further you separated from JJ, the greater the crack in your heart became.

Surprisingly, it was JJ who cut things off completely on a night you wanted to use to take your mind off the latest fight between your parents. Even with your father moved out of your family home, the screaming matches never stopped, and now they were trying to use you to pick sides. In the end, JJ did take your mind off your own family, but never in the way you expected him to.

“I don’t think we should do this anymore,” he told you as he slowly lifted your arms away from his shoulders.

“What? Why?” You looked at him with a tilted head and narrowed eyes. Your breathing became static and shallow, like you were on the verge of a panic attack.

“Because this was a bad idea, and it’s not healthy - me using you to forget about my dad, you using me to forget about your parents -”

“Using you?” You scoff and shake your head in disbelief. “You think that’s all this is?” “Why did you come over here? Why today? Why right now?”

You clenched your teeth together and looked away from the boy who was now staring at you with a look that resembled pity. You wanted to tell him that sex wasn’t the only reason you find solace in his company. He made you feel safe and happy. He made you forget about the world’s problems with his jokes and stories. He made you laugh harder than anyone else could dream ever could. JJ is the first person you think of when you wake up and the person you dream about at night. But you couldn’t tell him this. Because that would mean admitting your stronger feelings for him. That would mean possibly destroying the relationship you already have with him,

Little did you know, not answering him would do the same thing.

“Fine,” You swallow back your tears and turn away to leave. You couldn’t stay here, standing in front of him for another second. Your felt embarrassed and ashamed. Like you had made a mistake that you can’t take back.

“Y/N -” JJ tried calling out to you, but you ignored him and slammed the door behind you.

You down the last of your beer and shake the empty cup. Ignoring John B’s question you walk past him. “I need another drink.”

John B shakes his head with frustration. Rolling his eyes he says, “He asks about you all the time. Talks about you non stop but won’t tell me why he won’t just call you up himself. And I don’t know what to tell him because by shutting him out, you’re shutting me out too.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and look down at the sand covering the toes of your sneakers. You hate that what John B said is true, and you hate even more that you don’t know how to fix it without seeing JJ Maybank. And you’re just not ready for that.

You didn’t see JJ turn his head at the sound of his best friend’s rising voice. No one in the crowd seemed to recognize the tension only a couple feet away, but he did. He watched from afar, noticing the space between you two and how stiff your bodies are. His heart tore into two, knowing he was the reason for their dispute. But he didn’t know what to do or how to fix it.

He thinks about you everyday, contemplates calling you up, or going to your house and apologizing personally. He misses you. He never meant to hurt you. But...he had to think of himself. And staying with you was killing him slowly. Because he knew you wouldn’t give him what he always dreamed of. A lifetime with you as his partner in crime. The love of his life. The mother to his children some day.

But everyday without you felt like another year had been tacked onto his life. Sometimes he thinks he’d rather just live through the heartbreak than never having you at all.

“You know what?” You say, “This was a bad idea. I’m just going to go.”

John B doesn’t stop you. He just watches you walk away. He bites his tongue because he knows whatever he wants to say in anger will only mask how he really feels - which is pity and sadness. Because he know something is is going on with you and he can’t help you - not until you let him.

“Leaving so soon?” A certain voice makes you stop in your tracks on the edge of the beach where people have parked their cars.

You squeeze your fists together to stop your hand from shaking and take three deep breaths to calm your racing heart. You slowly turn to look at him and suck your bottom lip in between your teeth. He looks the same. Shaggy blonde hair, beautiful tan skin, sparkling blue eyes. Although, he looks sheepish with his hands tucked into his cargo short pockets and his eyes narrowed in your direction. He looks sad. But that doesn’t make sense because he broke it off with you.

“I guess I’m just not in the party mood tonight,” You respond. JJ takes note of how empty your voice sounds.

“Y/N Y/L/N not in the party mood?” JJ tries to joke. “That’s unheard of.”

“What are you doing, JJ?” You ask impatiently. The longer you look at the boy you...well...the boy you don’t want to love, the harder it is to breathe. “Don’t you have a girl to entertain? She’s pretty, clearly into you-”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” You play dumb.

JJ sighs. “Look, I understand if you’re mad at me or something -”

“I’m not mad,” You deny with a shrug. “We fucked around for a little bit and then you moved on-”

“Don’t do that. Don’t act like what he had meant nothing -“

“Well did it? Mean anything?” You narrow your eyes and take another step closer to him. “Because from what you said, I was only using you! And you were only using me. That’s what you said!”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I -”

“What did you mean then?” You challenge him. You feel your eyes heat up with fresh tears and no matter how many times you try to blink them away, they threaten to fall. You feel a red blush rush up your neck as you look deep into his eyes, remembering the shame you felt that night. You never meant to make him feel like that’s all he was to you - a distraction or a quick fuck. He was still your best friend. And you ruined that, and there’s no one else to blame but yourself. Yet here you are, yelling at him because it was easier that way.

“I never meant for any of this to happen. I just - I just wanted my best friend back!”

You take a step back and look at him like the blonde just grew two heads. “I never left. I was there the entire time. You’re the one that ended things.”

“Because I loved you!” JJ yells at you, rendering you absolutely speechless. His words ring over your head like a chime, dancing beautifully through your ear drums. Despite his outburst of admittance of affection, he glares at you because how could you be so stupid not to see it?

“What?” Your voice is barely above a whisper and your own scowl is gone.

JJ runs his hands through his disheveled hair and curses to himself. “Fuck, Y/N, I loved you. I still love you. But I know how you feel about relationships and love and -” JJ sighs. “I didn’t want to lose you, but my god, it was killing me that I was giving my all and you would never -”

You feel your feet moving forward despite your brain and thoughts freezing completely.

You didn’t know how to feel. You just knew you needed to be near him. You wanted to feel his heart beat against his chest and his breath on your skin. You wanted to look him dead in the eyes and read his brain like an open book. You just wanted to be near him and somehow show him that you felt the same way.

Your hands cup his jaw to make him look at you. He looks pained - like a boy who had just been punched in the gut by his worst enemy, and it killed you to know you were the cause of it. You didn’t mean to. Little did he know you felt the same way. It was the reason you distanced yourself from him in the first place. You loved him. Fuck, you loved him so much. But you were scared. You didn’t want to end up like your parents. You’d rather die than learn to resent the blonde Pogue in front of you. But by trying to save your relationship, you ended up hurting yourself and JJ.

He keeps his eyes closed and tries to move his face out of your hands, but you stay strong and move even closer to him so that you’re chest to chest.

“I would.” Your voice is a whisper and your breath sends a rush of goosebumps down his neck. “Hey..” You whisper again and JJ opens his eyes to look at you. “I would. Because I love you too.”

JJ’s brows furrow. “What?”

“I was scared. I am scared.” You correct yourself. “I tried to turn it all off by distancing myself from you. I thought that maybe if I stopped -” You pause as a silent tear runs down your cheek. “I tried not to love you. God, I tried so hard. But I do, JJ. I love you so freaking much. But I’m terrified that -”

“Hey, hey.” As your hands fall, JJ’s go to your face to wipe away your tears with his thumbs. “We’re not like them.” He reads your mind perfectly. He knows about your parents’ divorce and the mental damage it’s caused you. “We’ll never be like them. You hear me?”

“How do you know that?” Your voice cracks.

“Because if I’ve got you, what do I have to be miserable about?” JJ grins as you giggle. You turn your head to place a kiss against the palm of his hand, ripping open a set of flutters through JJ’s abdomen.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. And I won’t hurt you either. I promise.”

You sniffle and bite your bottom lip as a smile spreads across you face. “So, are we really doing this?”

JJ nods as he leans in closer to you and pulls your chin up. “Yeah. We’re doing this.” He leans down and kisses you gently at first, letting the fireworks spark throughout your entire body, then moves his lips more passionately against yours.

Neither of you knew, but from afar, your best friends were watching behind a couple of trees with open mouths and wide eyes.

“Oh my god!” Sarah jumps up and down like a school girl. She always knew you and JJ had something stronger than the rest of the Pogues but never said anything.

“I knew it,” Kie shakes her head with a smirk.

“It’s about fucking time,” John B wraps his arms around his own girlfriend and kisses the top of her head. “I was going to kill them.”

“What?” Pope looks between his two best friends with furrowed brows. “You knew about this all along?”

John B scoffs, “How could you not?”

“Even I had a feeling something was going on,” Sarah giggles.

“Why do they have to be so fucking stubborn?” Kie says.

“Should we...I don’t know...congratulate them or something?” Pope asks awkwardly.

Kie pats Pope’s shoulder as she walks past him to go back to the party. “Absolutely not.”

“Yeah, I’m not going near them until morning,” John B says and grabs Sarah’s hand to lead her back to the keg to get another drink. “In fact, we should just steer clear of the Chateau for the entire night.”

You still had a lot to learn, but not letting your parents’ divorce dictate your life was the best lesson you learned. They can take whatever they want from you, but they weren’t going to take away your relationship with JJ. Because he’s the best thing that could have ever happened to you.

442 notes · View notes

adonis-koo · 4 years

Text

Blue Spring

| 1 |

↳ Summary: Jeon Jungkook, only well known as the youngest (and hottest) dad at the daycare, he’s got it all, the looks, the sweetheart personality, the body, but here’s what gets everyone- he doesn’t wear a wedding ring. The only problem lies in his fickle one year old daughter that hates just about every daycare worker out there...Well...besides you that is. Which of course leads to Jungkook liking you just as much as his daughter...if not maybe a little too much.

Or in other words...You and Jungkook are secretly crushing on one another but too shy to admit it.

↳ Pairing: Single dad!Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: Daycare AU, Slice of life, copious amounts of fluff, a hair of angst, future smut

Word Count: 4K

___ | Next

Seven thirty sharp. Your mind was groggy and you couldn’t stop the yawn that escaped your lips, you had stayed up too late the night before studying due to a test you’d have later today without even thinking about the shift you promised your coworker you’d cover. So here you were at First Steps 7:30 in the morning, coffee in hand and your hair in a messy bun.

You hadn’t even bothered getting changed besides your fitness pants. Outside of that you were still dawned in your oversized university sweatshirt. At least you’d be with the kids most of the day, one of the perks of working at a daycare was you rarely had to get dressed up.

Another perk was during naptime you could squeeze in a little more time to look over your notes, but maybe you shouldn’t get ahead of yourself considering you only slept six hours and currently look like you just rolled out bed.

Opening the door to the entrance you were greeted with the sound of cartoons, a morning routine while all the kids had their breakfast snack and got out their energy while playing. What drowned out the volume however was a familiar loud screech and whine from a little pair of arms that attached herself to the much larger figure.

“Awwwh, poor baby.” You cooed as you kneeled down, your lips quirking into a pout at the all too familiar sight, “Mina! Daddy has to go to work, he’ll be back for you later”

The little one year old suddenly perked up at the sound of your voice making you laugh softly before she quickly toddled over to you as best she could, fat crocodile tears dribbling down her cheeks as she threw herself dramatically against your chest making your lips pull into a big animated pout, “Awh it’s okay baby! Poor thing, it always takes her at least ten minutes to stop crying anytime you go.”

You picked her up, maneuvering her up to your hip as you kept her balanced in one hand, turning to fully face the tall man who you had grown acquainted too, “She’d probably cry the whole time if it weren’t for you Y/n, really thank you.” Jungkook gave an endearing smile as he let his little girl wrap her tiny hand around his finger, tears still dribbling down her cheeks as whines escaped her.

Mina, was a tough one. When new kids came in it was usually guaranteed they’d have a little separation anxiety from their parents, especially if it was the first they had ever done something like this. Usually it was recommended that the parent only leave them for an hour or so at first before they started dropping them off full time but that wasn’t always the case.

Regardless, you were both used to it and trained for it. You could almost always coax a child into looking over at the toy wall to find something they liked, or maybe they liked being read aloud too. And with particularly hard ones, you’d even let them pick out a movie if it was movie hour. But almost always, after a child was initially acquainted to you, they’d let you at least hold them or maybe coax them to play with you.

Mina, was one of the few exceptions. She had major separation anxiety from her dad and did not want any of the workers holding her- even trying to play with her. You had heard plenty about the ‘cryer’ in your work’s group chat as various staff who had worked the days she was here tried to figure out how to handle her. Then, you finally met her.

She looked doe eyed, hugging onto her dad's leg when you kneeled down and introduced yourself with a bright yet sincere smile.

You weren’t sure if it was how you said hello to her, or if it was the way you smelled like your favorite lotion, but for some reason this little girl was stuck to you like glue ever since, “You know you're her favorite right?” Jungkook joked the dimple on his cheek showing as he gave a rather boyish- yet charming smile. He was a sweetheart, through and through, you could tell how much he cared for his daughter and it only added to his charm further.

“Well, it is a part of the job,” You glanced up at him returning a tiny smile of your own as you shrugged.

You’d deny all of your coworkers giggly words and raised eyebrows anytime you were in the same room as them when Jungkook dropped Mina off. You’d also deny that you were almost always flustered in his presence, Jungkook was young, like young. He could have only been five years older than you at most. If not closer to your age.

And it wasn’t like you were blind either, he was obviously attractive. He was the talk of your coworkers day, mainly because he had a child, right? But here’s the thing, he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

At first you were the rational one, maybe he just had a girlfriend and they were going to tie the knot eventually? Or maybe they were one of those couples that didn’t believe in marriage. Chloe had proposed that maybe he wasn’t a jewelry type of guy and always forgot to put it on. Or maybe they were a couple that did something unorthodox like wedding bracelets.

It was Lisa who chimed in last, reminding you both that this was the dad who had his ears completely punctured with over four piercings on each side. He was definitely a jewelry kind of guy.

So why wouldn’t he wear whatever jewelry they chose as their wedding bond?

Regardless, the reason your coworkers constantly winked in your direction was because it was obvious Mina had taken a liking to you, which meant Jungkook had as well...Maybe a little too well, according to them at least.

The rest was self explanatory.

“Still, Mina’s a big daddy’s girl. I felt awful leaving her here all day the first few weeks.” Jungkook gave a bashful smile as he set the large backpack down, Jeon Mina labeled on the front which held all her favorite snacks, diapers and any possible blankets or stuffies she’d need or want from home. You usually didn’t go digging around through bags but it usually helped if a parent brought in something from home. Especially for ones like Mina who could really benefit from it.

“Oh I can tell,” You gave a laugh as Mina, as if sensing she was being talked about broke into tears again as her little hand tightened on her dad’s finger, “Oh honey, shhh,” You bounced her a little on your hip with a coo before glancing up once more, “But it’s a transitional stage for her, for any of them who tend to have separation anxiety. You might feel awful but I promise it’s fine, it’s something they all go through and adjust to as they get older. I see it all the time.”

Jungkook smiled a little at your reassurance, something about him just looked so endearingly boyish still despite being a fully grown man, maybe it was the little dimple that appeared on his cheek or the beauty mark just beneath his lower lip, “I know, it still doesn’t make it any easier though,” Just as he said those words he sighed a little as he glanced over at the clock, “Anyways I need to head on to work, I will see you later.”

Mina as if sensing his departure immediately began crying once more as he pressed a kiss on her forehead, your heart speeding up a little at him being so close, the strong scent of cologne meeting your nose before quickly disappearing. Mina had tried her best to hold onto her dad’s finger as he easily pulled away, giving a semi guilty smile at the wallowing drama queen he called his daughter as he gave you another smile and nod before exiting.

Setting your coffee down against the counter you sighed, taking a deep breath as you held Mina in both arms, her little face thrown down against your shoulder as she pitifully cried against you. Nothing like being clung to first thing in the morning before you could even drink a full cup of coffee. God you had so much respect for mothers.

“I just think, if the opportunity is there, and if he’s single...why not take it?” Lisa raised her brows as she coaxingly tried to convince you of an honestly, unprofessional idea.

Sighing you pinched the bridge of your nose as Mina colored beside you- well, if scribbling with a colored pencil counted as coloring, “Lisa, that’s a horrible idea. We don’t know if he’s single or not, and honestly? It’s none of my business. Besides he’s a dad, I don’t know….” You paused your words as you glanced around before lowering your voice into a whisper, “I don’t know shit about parenting.”

Chloe clacked her tongue as she leaned back in her seat, the tiny cherry red kids chair which almost all of you sat in rather than fight over who got to sit in the big chair, often making kids think they could sit on it in which they’d be disappointed in the result, “Y/n we work with kids everyday.” She cut into the conversation deadpan.

Leave it to Chloe to point out the obvious but working with kids or not that wasn’t even close to the same thing.

“Yeah, but we don’t live with them, Chloe, we don’t have to discipline them everyday, we don’t have to call the doctor when they get sick or- or tuck them in at night or let them sleep with us when they have a nightmare- being a caretaker and a parent might be similar but they aren’t the same.” You tapped your coloring pencil against the page of the coloring sheet Mina had picked out for you, well more like the first one she could find and drag out before slapping it against the table and pointing at a chair. If she could speak you were certain she’d be demanding for you to sit.

Having a tiny child boss you around all day wasn’t the greatest job in the world but it could certainly be worse.

“Honestly, who said anything about parenting? I mean...a flings a fling-” Chloe paused, glancing over at the four year olds who were all playing before lowering her voice and leaning in a little, “You’ve seen his body and he’s clearly interested in you, how can you not see it?”

You could feel your face flush as you looked away from her, scowling at the table. How can they talk about this in front of his daughter! Albeit she was only one years old and looked perfectly happy scribbling her piece of paper, even going as far as to help you color yours as well.

Swallowing thickly you lowered your voice before exasperatedly hissing, “I am not messing with that! It would be different if he was actively trying to talk to me but I don’t think that’s what he’s going for.”

Lisa raised her brows almost looking offended at your words, had it not been for one of the four year olds calling for her you were positive she would’ve went on a massive rant about how dumb you were, “Uh he always talks to you when he’s here? How much more does he have to beg for your attention Y/n?- Coming Wi Joo.” Standing up she huffed before making her way over to where the kids were.

Speak of the devil you were surprised at who had poked their head through the door, Jungkook had stayed behind watching with a soft smile at his little girl happily coloring beside you, tugging on your finger to make you look at her picture as you nodded, leaning in as you whispered, “I think someone is here for you.” Mina glanced up as you pointed your finger to the door.

You had never seen a toddler look so frantic as she cried in happiness, Jungkook never came by this early so it must have been a treat. Unfortunately Mina was still clumsy on her feet and tripped on her way to her dad before dramatically rolling onto her back as she cried.

“Oh my goodness!” Jungkook exclaimed as he walked in with a chuckle as he glanced down with precious eyes at his baby who glanced up at him with foe crocodile tears, purposely acting like she was hurt so he’d pick her up, “Is my babygirl okay?” He leaned down before effortlessly picking her up, her crying immediately stopped as a giggle bubbled on her lips as if feeling she had successfully tricked her dad into picking her up, “Was she good?”

Jungkook had asked as he turned to you, standing up as you rounded the table with a nod, “Oh yeah! A little fussy this morning but I think it was because she hadn’t had a snack yet, not to mention she was pretty upset for you leaving. I think all is forgiven though since you came by early.”

Laughing Jungkook nodded as he shifted her to his hip, “Yeah I only had a half day at work, so I figured I’d take her to get some lunch before dropping her off at her moms. She’ll probably be mad at me again but what can I do?”

“Uh Y/n- Ji Woo puked, you mind getting us some more paper towels?” You cringed as you looked over at Lisa who had pulled a crying Ji Woo along to the bathroom as Chloe hearded the other kids away from the mess.

“Oh she’ll survive. She loves to be a drama queen though, right Mina?” You poked her cheek making a giggle escape her lips as she grabbed your finger with both of her hands, a bubble escaping her lips as if she were trying her hardest to say something, little brows focused, “M…!” You laughed at her cute little focused expression, her doe eyes glancing at you like her little life depended on it, “Anyways, have a good day guys, I’ll see you later.”

You gave a short wave to them both, intending to go and get more paper towels because the sight of the bile was large and it was clear someone had still been motion sick even after the car ride. God didn’t his mom say she’d stop letting him eat in the car before taking him here?

“Oh uh!”

You turned around at the sound of Jungkook’s almost jumbled words, his eyes wide as if he had forgotten something before sharply forcing his voice to sound more calm, “I was uh wondering….” He suddenly looked a little hesitant, eyes glancing down as you raised your brows, “Umm, I...I promised my boss I’d come in on Saturday to help with a project and I really need a babysitter for Mina....Would you mind...if you aren’t busy of course!” He suddenly rushed. You tilted your head at first, mainly because it looked like he wanted to ask you something else but had changed his mind.

Tugging on a strand of your hair you quickly glanced over at the Chloe who had been telling the younger kids to stay away from the mess despite their ignorance, “Uh yeah! No, as long as you don’t mind me studying while watching her, um. I- uh- I...really need to go over and help...Let me uh-” You grabbed one of First Steps business cards before turning it over and using the back to write down your number, “Here, you can send me the details and we can work out pay a little later.”

Jungkook’s eyes lit up before he smiled, grabbing the card from you as he nodded, “Yes- absolutely! Thank you Y/n, I’ll uh,” He gave a small laugh as he glanced over to your frantic coworker, “I’ll leave you to it, say bye Mina.” He grabbed her little arm as he made her wave making you laugh as you quickly ran over to help Chloe.

Maybe...just maybe your coworkers were onto something.

You swallowed thickly, feeling only slightly intimidated at the size of the house. Jungkook couldn’t have been in his thirties already, right? I mean, you knew he was definitely older than you but still...there was no way someone in their twenties could already afford to live somewhere so nice. Right?

Meanwhile you were stuffed in a small apartment close to the uni with three roommates who all lived on ramen, you included. Fixing the bag over your shoulder you took an inhale before stepping up to the door and knocking, it was only a few moments before the door swung open. Much to your surprise you were met with a wet headed Jungkook, dawned in sweatpants and a loose white shirt that still somehow strapped against his broad shoulders, “Oh good you’re here! Come in.”

Jungkook ushered as he stood aside, carefully you took your shoes off as Jungkook waved you over, “Mina is in the living room right now watching cartoons, she’s never hungry this early in the morning but she has some chocolate milk, um, oh yeah, she’ll probably want breakfast around nine or so. I have some cereal in the dolly if you want an easy way out,” Jungkook had lead you into the kitchen- the very nice kitchen, granite countertops, smooth tile flooring and a spacious middle counter, “But I also have plenty of ingredients if you wanna be adventurous and making pancakes or anything- word of advice she’s picky about eggs.” Jungkook sent a playful wink your way making your face flair up as you gave a laugh- though it felt more nervous than anything.

“Also, feel free to eat as well, I don’t want you to starve while you’re here,” Jungkook continued, eyes genuine as he paused for a moment, making you nod before he gestured you into the living room, the lights were all turned off and the curtains had yet to be drawn making the room much more dark than it appeared except for the TV.

Your heart was ready to melt at the pile of blankets on the couch, Mina was practically buried in them happily, her stuffed bear she always carried with her nestled against her as she sleepily yawned, “I’m not really a restrictive parent when it comes to TV but if it’s grating on your sanity you can feel free to turn it off at any time, she’ll be a little whiney about it but there’s plenty of toys in her room, speaking of,”

You passed into the hallway with Jungkook as he walked all the way down to the end, opening the door into a much brighter and frilly room decked in light princess pink, toys scattered across the floor, “All of her coloring and markers are in her closet, any toy she could possibly need is in here, she might insist it isn’t but trust me- it is. I usually put her down for a nap around after lunch and get her up around three or so before dinner. That pretty much covers everything. Since she’s home she probably won’t cry, I’ll be home around two or so anyways so I’m sure it’ll go by quick for her. Uh do you have any questions or…?”

“No! I mean, it sounds good to me. I wrestle with kids everyday when it comes to nap time so I doubt anything will be any more challenging than that. Uh otherwise I should be fine, I can always call if I have a problem but I’m not worried about it, Mina’s a good kid at daycare so I’m sure she’ll be fine at home. Is there anything you want me to make sure to do?” You asked as you both walked back down the hall

Jungkook gave it some thought for a moment before giving a shrug altogether, “No, I have complete faith you’ll be fine. I know you guys get to deal with a lot of bitchy parents but I’m not really….” he paused for a moment, looking away with a familiar expression to Mina whenever she was focused, “I trust you, that’s all.” Oh...your face flushed a little at his words, both of you paused for a second as you realized how close you were to him at the moment.

Why did this feel so domestic?

Jungkook looked like he just rolled out of bed...and so did you...it almost felt like it another universe rather then coming over to watch his daughter it was like you could be living together- No! No! No! Don’t let your mind go there! Both of you broke out of whatever tranced silence had took over at the gurgle of excitement. Blabber coming from Mina in excitement at the sight of you, her thumb escaping her lips as she dropped her blanket, toddling over to you before hugging your leg, “Awwwh goodmorning honey.” You couldn’t help but coo out, internally squealing at just how cute she was.

God you loved kids.

Picking her up she excitingly bounced against your hip before wrapping her tiny arms around you. Jungkook’s eyes crinkled a little at the sight, “Alright, if you’re set here then I better get going. I’ll be back soon.” He leaned in kissing Mina’s forehead as she cooed softly, clearly in contentment as he smiled once more before exiting the kitchen. Except unlike at daycare she stayed calm the whole time, maybe not even realizing he was gone. Instead, Mina chose to snuggle up against you as you laughed walking back into the living room before carefully sitting on the couch.

Glancing at the entry way you couldn’t help but wonder where Jungkook worked for him to be going in wearing such casual attire. He was usually a little more formal with his clothes, not suit and tie but well fitted jeans and maybe a button up. Clacking your tongue you forced yourself to relax, you were going to be here for over six hours, might as well get comfortable.

The hours did in fact go by fast, you had spent most of the morning studying before going into the kitchen, deciding you’d make plenty of breakfast for both you and Mina while splurging on premade french toast sticks in the freezer while making sausage to go.

Given Mina couldn’t talk yet it had been a little lonely within the hours but it was a good time spent on studying until she was suddenly out of sight and getting into something, or trying to fall off something, or...well...you get the idea.

Naptime was more difficult than you anticipated, especially given how easily she was knocked out at daycare, but then again she also used a lot more energy there when crying. Mina was in the comforts of her home and was not happy to be told it was naptime.

You never could get her in her room but she eventually lost the battle when she cuddled in your lap and eventually fell asleep, your text book in hand as you tiredly rubbed your eyes, yawning before forcing your eyelids back open.

You hadn’t even heard the door open until the sight of Jungkook quietly came into view, he was in silent awe at the sight, you looked picture perfect with Mina sleeping against you, he felt his heartrate spike when you noticed him, giving your own sleepy smile as he sat down next to you, not too close, but enough to get a good look at your tired features, “Was she good?”

You gave a tiny nod as you set the text book down, “Yeah, stubborn about naptime but here we are.”

Jungkook gave a soft laugh, mindful of his voice as he didn’t wanna wake his princess, eyes affectionate as he glanced down, “Sounds about right, I usually get a naptime too when she gets like this. Guess you found out she’s a big cuddler.”

“Oh yeah, she tried to toddle off a few times but she stuck to me most of the day. She’s never been this clingy at daycare but I can understand why.” You carefully shifted in your seat a little, trying to straighten yourself from your sunken position without waking her, it was silent for a moment before you decided to tread carefully, “So uh, where do you work Jungkook? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Oh no it’s fine, I work as a game developer for Bandai Namco. We’ve been working on a new expansion for the Soul series lately and we’re behind so I’ve been going in extra to try and get us ahead again. I wish I didn’t have too since Saturdays are the only days I get to really spend with Mina…” A twinge of guilt flickered on Jungkook’s face as he pressed his lips together, yet if you looked closer you could see he seemed almost sad, maybe disappointed in himself, “I um, I know you’re studying but...How about you? I’m assuming you’re in university right?”

You gave a small smile as you nodded, “Yeah, I’m studying in nursing right now,” You could tell he seemed a little taken aback by your answer making you laugh, “I know, a lot of people assume I’m in for teaching, especially sense that’s the norm for daycare workers, but…! I am hoping to get in at the children’s hospital, I love working with kids.”

“You’re great with them,” Jungkook hadn’t meant to let it slip from his mouth but it was too late, silence had taken over once more as you gave a shyer smile as Jungkook fumbled, cheeks beginning to dust pink, “I mean...uh! You are! You know how to calm them down and uh…Mina really likes you, so um, that counts for something. She’s really picky with people, you didn’t hear it from me but she really doesn’t even like her mom.”

You tried to laugh yet you couldn’t force it, something felt particularly taboo about laughing at that yet you didn’t know why. You couldn’t help but wonder why Mina’s mom couldn’t watch her. Or why Jungkook seemed so serious despite his joking tone, “Well I think deep down all kids secretly have a favorite parent,” You kept your tone light yet neutral, not wanting to tread on sensitive ground with whatever seemed to be going on with Jungkook’s significant other.

You weren’t sure what the story was but going off his words yesterday at the daycare he must have been divorced if Mina’s mom didn’t live with him. And give his joking- yet serious comment their relations must not have ended kindly.

“Fair enough, maybe it’s just me but I think I’m a pretty awesome dad.” Jungkook boasted with that boyish grin making you stifle your laugh. After the initial ice had been broken you both seemed to hold a conversation easily and before you had knew it the hours had slipped away from you. Mina eventually waking up from her nap only to gurgle in delight at the sight of her dad, crawling into his lap, “Oh I should probably get going,” you had checked your phone only for your eyes to widen at the time, “I promised my friends I’d help get snacks for movie night.”

Shifting in your seat as you stood up, Jungkook mirroring you leaving Mina on the couch with a whine in complaint, “Oh yeah of course! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you…!”

“No! It’s okay,” You rushed out, feeling your cheeks begin to warm as you rubbed your neck, “...I actually enjoyed myself…!” You shuffled in your spot feeling your throat become dry at the silence as you wracked your brain to find something else to say.

Jungkook cleared his throat, feeling a little meek as he rubbed his nose, “W-well um...maybe we can uh...maybe we can do this again sometime?” You felt your face burn at his shy expression, peering up at you hesitantly before continuing, “O-or maybe go out to eat sometime…? With Mina of course!” He rushed, “She’d be a little mad if we left her here.”

You couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you despite the nervous butterflies in your stomach, “Of course she would...id...I’d like that a lot..!” Oh god, did he just ask you out? Your brain was wrecked with a million thoughts as you and Jungkook fumbled with your goodbyes. The warm air meeting your lunges with relief as you stepped outside before shoving your face into your hands. He asked you out! Jeon Jungkook, only the hottest dad at the daycare really just asked you out!

Sucking in another breath of air you couldn’t help but let the giddy grin tug on your lips. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea. Jungkook obviously liked you enough to try a date and...and why not not! Maybe your friends weren’t wrong after all.

Note: thank you all for being so patient with me! I know Blue Spring has been highly anticipated and the wait is over! It was originally meant to be a oneshot but it just got ridiculously long lmao so by popular choice it’s going to be a four part mini series! Please enjoy and let me know what you think!! 🖤

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #single dad jungkook #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine #jungkook au #jungkook x y/n smut #bts au

4K notes · View notes

urimaginespimp · 3 years

Text

Breathe (This love pt. 5)

Bucky x Reader

Set during Endgame

Look out for: Stubborn dad Thor, and 40s Bucky.

--------

Previous Chapter

--------

None of you thought it was going to end that way.

When Carol, a new friend of yours, found Tony in space with one of Thanos’ daughters, there was a spark of hope within you. But when your adoptive father chopped the titan’s head off out of rage, you knew you had to go back to the people who might be able tell you what’s next.

To visitors, the Norns’ cave felt eerie. But stepping in it for the first time after Thor took you under his care, it still felt like home. You could already feel the Norns’ presence despite not being submerged in the pool of water.

You smile at the memory of how they have the reputation of being cruel and torturous to anyone they possess, when they have never been less than gentle to you. Dipping your right leg first, you instantly felt how they made the water warmer. Walking into the middle, you waited for them to enter your consciousness.

Taking a deep breath, you laid yourself back and relaxed enough for your body to start floating on water. Then you felt them.

“We’ve been expecting you, child.” Your voice blended with theirs once they spoke up.

I’ve been meaning to visit you. I’m sorry I didn’t go sooner. You replied in your thoughts.

“You feel... broken.”

A titan got hold of the stones and snapped the universe’s population in half. I- I lost most of my family.

“We know. And now you’re here because your heart cannot rest.”

What can you tell me?

“There is a man...”

Of course, there is. You caught yourself thinking. There was a pang in your chest when you remembered how amused you were when one of your Midgardian friends rolled her eyes and said that phrase.

“Now is not the time, Y/N.” They snapped at you.

Sorry. Please continue.

“The man is stuck in a realm in Midgard, and he’s on his way.”

There is a realm within the Midgard realm? Confusion laced your thoughts.

“But remember child, it is not until resentment within your family is put aside, that you would have even an ounce of chance to fix everything.” You think back to how Stark still isn’t speaking to anyone of you. Yiu haven’t heard from him for years now.

How can I fix us?

“You can’t meddle in this one Y/N. It is only with time that the rough patch would heal.” you sighed in frustration but found yourself agreeing. If it’s for the best, then you’ll let time take its course.

“Now, you are banned from leaving the cave until you tell us about this Bucky that’s plaguing your mind.”

--------

When you were first introduced you as Thor’s adopted daughter to the Asgardians, they were polite but you could feel that they were still unsure of you. But with spending time with helping them fish and being patient enough to teach them the Midgardian lifestyle, they now treated you as their own princess despite not being of royal blood. But since Thanos, Thor has been more distant – leaving responsibilities to you and Val.

For five years, you tried to appear as if you were doing better than most. And after taking time to just wallow in sadness for a while, you finally started visiting Nat and Steve from time to time. You were glad to hear that Steve was going to therapy, and you know he means well when he drops hints that you should go with him and join his sessions, but you always gave lame excuses, and often diverted away from any topic that would involve Bucky.

Nat however, has never been one to shy away from calling you out. “I know there’s a part of you that still blames yourself for not bending his blood and brains out.” she once confronted you when you were lounging on the couch, day drinking and eating sandwiches. You sat up and gave her a sad smile, your eyes tearing up.

“Damn it Nat, I came here to drink, not to get therapy from you.” you chuckled, grimacing at how forced it sounded.

“But it was never your fault. Believe me when I say that we all blamed ourselves at some point.” She continued, and your eyes teared up.

In the last five years you thought no one could see that you’ve been beating yourself up for not getting to where Steve and Thor were sooner. You thought that maybe if you had, you would’ve stopped Thanos, and half of the world, including Bucky, would still be here.

“Sometimes I wake up thinking I’m still in Wakanda, and that this has all been a nightmare.” you breathed out, feeling yourself about to break down for the first time. “I can’t find myself to stop waiting for him even if I don’t know if we could ever bring everybody back.” you finally admitted.

“Y/N -”

“Nat, the worst part is that I never got to tell him I love him. I know he knew and didn’t feel the same way. But I still wish I got to.” tears were starting to spill from your eyes, and Natasha was quick to get the drink from your hand before it spilled, and take you in her arms for comfort.

If you were to be completely honest, half the reason you go out of your way to visit Nat and Steve, was so you could also visit The Smithsonian Institution, and just... look at him. You’ve read what was written about him over and over, but it wasn’t enough to replace the yearning that you have inside.

In your sleep you can sometimes still see him just seconds before the blip. On other nights, it’s just the image of him sleeping soundly – his lips parted slightly, and his breathing getting steadier by the minute, the crease between his brows relaxed, and his hair pushed and tied at the back after you offered to - a sight you’ve engraved in your mind after many nights of comforting him following a nightmare.

“He loved you too, Y/N”. Steve spoke out from the doorway, seeing your state. “Maybe not like the way you do, but I know he does. And today I went out for a walk and -”

“Steve, if you’re about to tell her to look on the bright side, I’m about to hit you on the head with a PeanutButter sandwich.” Nat cut him off.

But then everyone’s attention snapped to Nat’s desk, where a notification pinged. It says that someone was outside. Sliding on the call, there was a man outside, asking if anyone was at home. You know you’ve seen his face before, and after he finally said his name, you remembered who he is.

“Is this an old message?” Steve asked after a few seconds in shock.

“It’s the front gate.”

--------

“I’ll do it too.” You spoke up to the group.

The team was going to have two tests – one where it would be a quick time on wherever the test subject would want to go, and if it’s successful, the second would leave the test subject longer in the timeline they choose. And you just volunteered yourself right after Clint.

“No, I forbid you.” Thor spoke up from his seat. Everybody turned their attention to him in surprise. All along they thought he was asleep because he had sunglasses on and was unresponsive.

“Fa-”

He stood abruptly and came closer to you. “This is non-negotiable, Y/N. I’ve already lost enough; I can’t lose you too." Your eyes welled with tears in surprise. For the last five years he’s managed to shut everyone out including you – leading you to believe that he doesn’t care anymore and just hasn’t kicked you out, out of honor.

“We’ll let you both talk first.” You heard Steve say in a low voice, ushering everyone else out of the room.

Thor grunted and moved away back to his seat, still wearing his glasses, while you stayed standing, leaning in the corner. Taking a long hard look at him, you understood where he was coming from. But you also knew getting things right would be the only way to possibly get him back up again. And it was a risk you were willing to take.

“There was a time when I believed you were dead.” You started talking, regardless of not knowing if he was listening. “I jumped right into anger out of guilt, and as I was ruthlessly destroying those outriders, I thought I was gonna have to stay feeling that way forever. Just plain angry.” You chuckled and pushed yourself from the wall.

“But there was a moment where that anger was replaced by worry and fright. It was when Bucky was getting too overwhelmed by the creatures’ attacks. Yes, I almost got pierced like a kebab right after, but it was also the moment I realized that I preferred feeling any other emotions than blinding anger. I don’t want you feeling that way forever too.”

“I’m not angry.” he snapped, standing up once again to get closer to you.

“Yes, you are. But above all you’re hurting.” you stood your ground in front of him.

“I am definitely NOT hurting.” He sarcastically answered.

“Really? Then take those glasses off. Let me see those definitely not bloodshot eyes.” you smiled gently up at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest, when he snorted at you. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you sniffling and trying to hide it by pretend-drinking that empty can of beer earlier.”

“gods, why are daughters so annoyingly observant.” He muttered, finally throwing the empty can of beer somewhere in the room. You can see that the team was back just right outside the glass door. You gave them an assuring smile, and faced him again.

“Well?”

“If it works on Clint, then fine.” He groaned, and you couldn’t help but tackle him out of gratitude.

--------

Clint was on the ground once he returned, and Nat rushed to his side to check on him.

“Hey, look at me.” she asked him, and he turned to look at everyone. His eyes were teary, but it wasn’t from sadness.

It was hope.

“It worked!”

--------

“Now, Y/N. This time you’re going to be there for a longer period, okay? Use your powers if defense is necessary.” Banner instructed you. You were now standing at the center of the machine in your suit. But only Nat and Steve knew what you had under it. It was their idea.

“Are you ready?” This time, Nat was behind the controller with Banner to overlook it. You gave her a small smile and a nod.

“Wait, where are you going anyway?” You heard Scott asked out loud, as Nat input the year. You looked over to where Steve was standing and he was also grinning.

“Say hi to him for me.” you heard him say before you felt yourself shrunk. And you were in.

--------

You made it out of a tent, now out of your suit and left with the old nurse’s uniform you were wearing under it earlier. Everybody else was too distracted, cheering on Steve because he just brought back with him the soldiers from Hydra’s base.

You tried to calm your nerves, just realizing that the people around you were now most likely dead from your timeline. How many of them survived the war, and how many of their grandchildren have you befriended? And how many of those grandchildren were also taken by the blip?

When the crowd was starting to disperse and most of the people were trying to get back to their tasks, you found yourself roaming around, a little lost, trying to figure out where the medical tent is.

“Steve, I told you I feel fine.” you froze when you heard his voice a little far behind you.

“It’s better to make sure, Buck.” you heard Steve insist. You still couldn’t will your legs to keep walking. “And even if you are, you need rest. Just let me find you a...”

shit

“...nurse! Hey, ma’am!” You weren’t sure if you were the one Steve was calling out. Turning around slowly, your breath hitched when you finally faced them. Bucky’s own face went from annoyed to entranced in a second. He was staring at you with the very same pair of orbs you’ve been missing. Only that in this timeline, they still held a glint of playfulness and innocence in them.

You cleared your own throat when you realized it’s been a few seconds since anyone said anything. “Uh, what can I do for you, S- Captain?” you gave them a smile, trying not to chuckle from almost calling him by his first name.

“You know what, Steve, I am feeling a little funny.” Bucky nudged him with his elbow. And you turned your attention to him.

“Right. Uh, allow me to assist you, Sargeant.” you walked slowly towards him, feeling like your heart was going to jump out of your chest.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Steve muttered to him.

He put his arm around your shoulder for support as you start walking to what you hope was the medical tent. It was only then you realized that it was left arm. Your hand shakingly reached for his wrist, careful not to go for the hand, as if you were just making sure that you would be able to help him hold himself up.

“So... what’s your name?” He started trying to make small talk.

“Y/N” you answered, trying to mask your nervousness.

“I’m James. But you can call me Bucky.” Hearing him introduce himself in such a confident manner struck you deeply. You know that after this, he wouldn’t be able to know who he is for decades to come.

You almost wanted to warn him.

“Are you okay?” He asked in concern after being met with silence.

“Yes, sir. I’m just a tad nervous. I’m kinda new here.” you gave him a tight smile.

“Please call me by my name. And lucky for you, I’m the easiest patient you’ll ever tend to, doll. All I need is some company while on bed rest.” He gave you a boyish smile.

“You got yourself a deal, James.” you found yourself returning the smile.

Entering what was thankfully the medical tent, you helped him settle down on one of the beds. There were only about 3-5 other patients, and they were all being tend to already.

“I’m kind of curious, why did you decide to serve?” he gave you a sheepish smile.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything wrong with you, soldier?” you asked him first, and he responded with a small shake of his head. Smiling, you came up with a believable answer. “My dad was a high-ranking officer, but something happened, and they lost a lot of people. And now he’s back home wallowing in guilt. I decided to serve in behalf of him, so now I’m here.” you bit the inside of your cheek. It wasn’t entirely a lie.

James was looking at you in awe, and he took your hand in his left one and gave it a light squeeze. “You don’t have a man waiting on you back home?” you could hear he was almost hesitant to ask.

You blinked away the tears threatening to spill. How would you be able to say something so heart wrenching?

“Bu... He was among those who didn’t make it.” you cleared your throat to compose yourself. This was all too much.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” he didn’t know what to say. He almost kicked himself for having a tinge of relief in knowing that you weren’t committed to anyone.

“He wasn’t really mine... I was in love, yes. And he knew but just didn’t really feel the same. And I never resented him for it. I just wish I was brave enough to really tell him before he...” you choked up and apologized to him, but there was no judgement behind his eyes.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t want for you to be filled with regrets every time you remember him. I know I wouldn’t.” He gave you an assuring smile, squeezing your hand in comfort as the tears finally run down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry for crying. Now they’re gonna think you were being mean to me.” you gave him a sad smile.

“Steve will lecture me about manners for sure.” He chuckled.

“He still does it.” You thoughtlessly blurted out, earning a confused look from him. “I- I’ve heard some people saying he’s been super righteous even way before he became the Captain America.” you sheepishly smiled, hoping he believed you.

“Yeah. Always been a punk.” He replied, but you could hear adoration lace his voice.

“I think I should leave you to actually get some rest.” You knew it was time to go.

He nodded and smiled at you. “You're the most beautiful nurse I’ve ever seen. I don't think most of us wouldn’t mind if your face is what will be the last thing we’ll see.”

“Yeah, there is definitely something wrong with you. Get some sleep, soldier.” you turned and was already near the way out, when he spoke up.

“We’re going on a raid tomorrow. Will I get to see you when we come back?”

You felt your heart drop. You knew what was about to happen to him.

You turned to face his way and walked back to him where he was now sitting up on the bed.

“James, you’re a strong man. You’re going to be okay.” eventually.

“Thank you, angel.”

It was your turn to give his left hand a squeeze. And bringing it up, you gave it a small kiss before gently dropping it back to him.

“I’ll wait for you to come back, Buck.” you smiled, and quickly left the tent before you completely break down.

It was time go back.

--------

@eternalharry @iheartsebandchris @lizzarooni @the-ayo-lit

@tanyaherondale @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul

Today is a great day. Fearless (Taylor's Version) + New TFATWS episode.

187 notes · View notes

pastelwitchling · 3 years

Text

Somebody to You (1/4)

Chapter 1. Hidden Feelings

Alex Manes is Michael's best friend in the entire world. His platonic soulmate, in fact. That's why, when Michael discovers that Alex is in love with him, he panics. Rather than risk the loss of his friendship, Michael begs his brother Max to date Alex instead, and divert his affections. Though hesitant at first, Max agrees for the sake of helping his brother. But what happens when Max realizes that there is more to Alex than he first thought? Romance ensues, and as Max and Alex become closer, Max realizes that what had started as a favor to Michael has turned all too real. The only problem is that Michael never expected Max to actually fall in love. Can Max stay with Alex knowing that their beginning is based on the worst kind of betrayal?

High school was hard enough without your best friend falling in love with you.

Not that there was anything wrong with Alex Manes, guys and girls both had to admit he was pretty to look at, but he was Michael’s best friend. When he’d first come out to him last year, Michael had very pointedly not teased the question, You don’t have a crush on me, do you?

Now, he didn’t know whether or not that had been the right move. If he’d asked, would Alex have blushed and given himself away? Or would he have been insulted? Or would he have rolled his eyes at the question like he did any time Michael said something stupid?

Maybe if he’d asked, he wouldn’t have found out by accidentally eavesdropping on Alex’s private conversation with Liz. Maybe he wouldn’t have heard Alex’s tears, heard his voice as strung out as it had been, fueled by exhaustion and fear.

“What if he doesn’t say no?” Liz tried, the words more a plea than an actual consideration to Michael’s ears. He could hear her desperate desire for her own words to be true, and the resignation in the knowledge that they weren’t. “What if he likes you back?”

“He won’t,” Alex cried, and made Michael’s grip on the music room door handle tighten. “He’ll never talk to me again.”

“Michael loves you,” Liz insisted. “He’ll love you even if you want something more. Look,” she was speaking more quickly now, “maybe if you tell him, you’ll feel better. Right? That’s why you’re crying, isn’t it? It’s just another huge weight on your shoulders, but if he knows that you’ve loved him since middle school, then – then maybe at least he’ll stop rubbing his one-night stands in your face!”

She sounded furious at the mention of it. Michael thought about the last blonde, nameless girl he’d had two nights ago, the way he’d latched to Alex’s back the next day, eager to tell him all about it. The way Alex, the dark circles around his eyes darker for reasons other than the eyeliner, had shrugged him off and murmured some excuse about getting to class.

Shame swelled in his chest until he realized he had nothing to be guilty for. He hadn’t known Alex had feelings for him!

Oh god, he realized. Alex had feelings for him. His best friend – no, best friend wasn’t enough to describe what Alex was. His soulmate, the very half of his heart, wanted more than friendship from him.

He swallowed, about to walk away. He shouldn’t be hearing any of this. He shouldn’t know any of it. Then –

“No,” Alex said. “No, I’m just – I’m just tired.” He sniffled, and Michael imagined him roughly wiping his face with his sleeves. “I don’t want him to know.”

“Alex –”

“No, Liz,” he said more sternly, more afraid. “I don’t want him to know. You . . . when I told you, you promised you’d never tell him. You’re not going to –”

“No,” she breathed, appalled. “No, of course not. I’d never do that.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “I just . . . please, you can’t say stuff like that. It – I can’t – if he finds out –”

“Hey,” Liz said softly. “He won’t.”

“I can’t lose him,” he said and sniffled. “I’m just . . . upset because of my dad. The last thing I want is for Michael to leave me because of a stupid crush.”

A moment’s pause, then Liz tried, “Alex . . . it’s more than a crush.”

“Please,” Alex pleaded. “Don’t tell him. I never want him to know.”

“Okay,” Liz said, and Michael heard shuffling. He dared peek into the room and saw Alex there alongside the piano, his back to the door, Liz’s arms around his shoulders. Her eyes were closed, so she didn’t see Michael. “I promise, I’ll never tell him.”

Alex hugged her waist, and his body sagged with exhaustion against her. He hummed, but his voice waivered, like he was trying not to cry again.

Michael had left then, replaying everything he’d heard in his head. Alex liked him. No, Alex more than liked him. What was he supposed to do with that?

This wasn’t like finding out the local gay guy had fantasies about him. This was finding out the guy he trusted more than anybody, the guy he cherished more than anybody, had feelings for him. It felt like a threat to their friendship.

Michael slumped against the driver’s side of his truck, his backpack barely hanging off one hand. This was Alex. What was he supposed to do?

Alex liked him. His response? He clenched his jaw. No fucking way. He didn’t want to be in a relationship with Alex. It was Alex. It wasn’t that he couldn’t see holding his hand and going on dates with him and he’d seen him in the locker rooms. It was no wonder the girls here had had a memorial when they’d found out the hot emo musician only wanted men . . .

It didn’t matter. He didn’t want anything with Alex. He’d had too many one-night stands and too many nameless, faceless nobodies to know that love was only something that existed in his brother’s books. Getting intimate with someone meant risking losing them.

He clenched his fists. He would’ve rather died than lose Alex. He opened his truck door and climbed inside. He gripped his steering wheel tightly, unable to start it for a good minute as an unidentified dread settled in the bottom of his chest and climbed up through his heart.

When he parked in front of the junkyard where old man Sanders let him stay, and he found his brother Max sitting in a lawn chair, he understood what the dread was. It was the same thing he’d heard in Alex’s voice when it seemed like Liz might let his feelings for him slip; Raw fear.

As he stepped out, millions of worst-case scenarios swarmed his mind. What if Alex decided to tell him the truth? What if he blurted it one day in a fight? What if they were so happy that Alex got the courage to kiss him? What if things ended terribly and they lost each other?

Max raised a brow at him. “You look like hell. What happened?”

Michael could only shake his head as he took the seat opposite Max. He was due to work in half an hour, but sometimes Sanders let him rest up if he’d had a long day. And those last few minutes overhearing what he had in the music room had officially made this the longest day ever.

“Tell me something,” he sighed, leaning his head back and not at all paying attention to the dotted white clouds across the blue sky. “Anything.”

“Okay?” Max said more in the form of a question. “I – uh – saw Liz today. In the music room. With Alex.”

He groaned. “Anything else.”

Max nudged his knee with the back of his hand. “Hey, what’s wrong with you? You look like someone just smashed your guitar.”

My guitar. The guitar that Alex had given him because Michael had offhandedly mentioned once that music helped ease the noise in his mind. How had he not known then? Alex had paid such special attention to him. He had read his mind and known what his heart had wanted and given it to him when no one else bothered to look past the excitement of getting to rebel under the bleachers with the genius trailer trash.

How had he not known?

“I changed my mind,” he said. “Don’t speak. Just let me wallow.”

“Huh,” Max said. “Isobel’s been a fortress since she joined the Spring Dance committee, and you’re busy falling into your own despair for whatever reason.” He pulled a little brown leather notebook out of his back pocket. “Do any of my siblings have time for me?”

“I’m not falling into anything,” Michael grumbled. “Why do you have to get so poetic about . . . every . . . damn . . .” he trailed off, his eyes narrowing at the notebook. “Alex has that same notebook.”

Max hummed noncommittally, leaning back in his seat again and resting the notebook on his lap as he began doodling a rose. “Different colors though,” he said. “His is black. They got mixed up last week when he and I bumped into each other in the school hallway.”

An idea formed, somewhere in the back of his mind. Like water on ink; something definitely there, but unreadable. He leaned back again, wiping whatever the itch was from his eye.

“I don’t want to think about Alex right now,” he muttered, though even as he said it, his thoughts taunted him. Alex was all he could think about right now.

“Whoa,” Max blinked. Even he knew how much Alex and Michael treasured each other. Michael had never said he didn’t want to do something where Alex was concerned. “You guys have a fight or something?”

“No,” Michael said, though a fight might’ve been easier to deal with. “I found out . . . I heard Liz say . . .” He huffed, closing his eyes. He blurted. “Alex is in love with me.”

Silence. Michael opened his eyes and saw Max’s expression completely unsurprised. He looked like he was waiting for Michael to get to the point.

He straightened. “Are you kidding me? You really knew?”

Max scoffed. “You really didn’t?”

“No!” he gaped and stood. “He’s my best friend, why would I think he was in love with me?!”

“Because he’s your best friend.”

“So?!”

“So!” Max said like it was obvious. “Alex hates people! Liz and Kyle are his only friends, he barely tolerates me and Isobel, and Rosa Ortecho swears he hissed at her once!” He huffed a disbelieving chuckle. “Before you came along, Liz told me he never said two words to anybody he hadn’t known since before his mom left. You want to take a guess as to why he warmed up to you so quickly?”

Michael didn’t answer. Max grabbed his arm. “And for the love of god, stop pacing, you’re making me nauseous.”

He tugged him down onto the lawn chair, and Michael sagged against it. He stared into the distance, lost in his memories of his first meeting with Alex. Alex had been bullied, pushed into a tree and made fun of for stares and feelings he had yet to understand himself. Then Michael had jumped between him and the bullies, waving a tree branch, screaming at them to get away or he would kill them.

It had been the wildness of his eyes and words, wildness he’d gained from years with monsters for parents, that had unnerved them in the end. Alex had taken his offered hand with wide eyes then, and timidly asked, “You’re not scared of me?”

Michael had known then that this twelve-year-old had been told too often that he was something unnatural, something wrong, and was expecting it from someone else now. So he’d looked Alex over, as if checking for bruises, and rested the branch on his shoulder like it had been a bat.

He’d grinned and said, “No fangs or a tail. You look fine to me!”

After that moment, Alex had followed him everywhere, his eyes never anything less than adoring.

Michael shut his eyes. How could he have not known?

A buzzing against his thigh snapped him out of his thoughts, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Alex was calling.

“Shit,” he leapt to his feet, holding the phone at a distance as if afraid that Alex could somehow see him through the camera. “Shit shit shit.”

“What?” Max followed and his shoulders slumped at the sight of Alex’s name. “Dude, just answer. He doesn’t know you know, remember?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, right, yeah.”

“It’s still just Alex.”

“Just Alex,” he repeated. “It’s just Alex.” He answered the call, held the phone to his ear, and all but yelled, “Hey!” He winced at himself and Max rolled his eyes.

“Hey?” Alex asked, laughter in his voice. He didn’t sound like he’d just been crying his eyes out at all. Then it hit Michael. Alex was abused. He was used to hiding his scars. “Why’re you screaming?”

“I’m not!” he said, then adjusted his volume with a clear of his throat. “I’m – uh – I’m not. What’s up?”

He loves me. He loves me, he loves me, he loves me.

Michael, so caught in the thought, completely missed what Alex had asked him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry,” he grit out, “say that again?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is the auto shop really busy right now?” Alex asked like he knew the answer. “Pay attention, Guerin, this is important!”

Of course, Michael had ditched time and time again because they hardly had any cars in around now, and all Sanders did when he was an hour late was yell and grumble, then give him and Alex an extra plate of whatever he’d had for lunch.

“I asked what time you were coming to my gig tonight,” he said, a little more hesitantly. When Michael didn’t answer, he cleared his throat. “At the – uh – the Wild Pony? Just so I can save you a seat.”

Michael let his hand with the phone fall, his shoulders slumped. For years, he’d owed that nervous stammer in Alex’s voice, the way he went from confident to shy with just a second of Michael’s silence, to nerves about his gigs. Now he speculated it was because of something else.

Damn it. He wished he’d never known about Alex’s feelings. He wished he could unhear everything.

He realized Alex was talking again, and he held the phone to his ear.

“If you can’t make it,” he was saying, “I get it, I just need to know for the seats, you know?”

Michael had never canceled on Alex before, but Alex was a little sensitive where his music was concerned. Michael assumed it was because he had a father and brothers who belittled what he did every day, no matter how often Michael told him he loved his songs.

He gripped the phone tightly. He wondered what Alex would do if he canceled on him now.

“Michael,” Max mouthed, “talk to him.”

“Guerin,” Alex huffed a laugh. It sounded forced. “Dude, it’s fine. It’s one gig, I think our friendship will survive.”

Will it? Michael feared. Will it survive this, Alex? Will it survive feelings that friends shouldn’t have for each other? Will it survive if I can’t help but look into the double meaning of every word you say now?

He felt oddly frustrated with Alex, like this was his fault somehow. Like he was singlehandedly destroying everything they’ve ever had by wanting more.

“Is it another gig?” Max asked, nudging his elbow. “Will Liz be there? Ask him if Liz will be there.”

Michael rolled his eyes, about to snap at his brother that this was not the time. Couldn’t he see that Michael was suffering some emotional turmoil over here?

“Guerin,” Alex tried again. “Are you there?” He heard a sigh, and Alex mumbled, “Is the reception bad?”

Michael hated this. He was starting to scare Alex, and it was the very last thing he wanted to do. Max was still asking about Liz, his notebook, just like Alex’s but a different color, in his hand, and Michael clenched his jaw. Max liked Liz, but it would be so much easier for everyone if . . . if . . .

His eyes widened. The idea that had begun to sink below the depths of his mind surfaced now. Before he could make it out completely, he found himself saying, “Sorry, hang on a second, babe, my brother keeps trying to talk to me.”

“Oh!” relief flooded Alex’s voice and he chuckled breathlessly. It sounded so much more real, and that hurt Michael all the more. “Yeah, sure! God, Michael, you freaked me out a second there. Yeah, take your time.”

Michael covered the speaker on his phone and told Max quietly, “I need you to come to Alex’s gig with me.”

Max’s eyes widened. “Liz will be there?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Michael said. “I need you to ask out Alex.”

Max stared a moment, then, “What?”

Michael held up a finger to his brother and brightened his tone when he told Alex, “Hey, Alex, can I bring Max to your gig tonight?”

“W-wait,” Max said, “Michael, what’d you mean, ask out Alex? Was that a joke?”

Michael ignored him as Alex scoffed. “Sure. But you’re definitely coming, right? Because I was totally lying before. If you don’t make it, I’ll never talk to you again.”

Michael smiled and almost said, Would I ever not show up for you?, realized how Alex might take it, and diverted at the last second.

“Uh – yeah – see you tonight, then.”

It was awkward and unnatural for them, but Alex hardly seemed to notice, lost in his own happiness, as he told Michael he’d see him tonight, and hung up.

He barely met Max’s dark eyes and crossed arms when Max said, “No.”

“Hear me out –”

“If your next sentence doesn’t end with, ‘and then everyone will laugh, and it’ll totally take the edge off,’ I don’t want to hear it.”

“One date!” he begged, following Max back to the chairs and their backpacks. “Just one! Consider it a birthday present to me! For the next five years – no, ten years!”

“This isn’t a favor, Michael!” Max argued. “I’m not going to ask your best friend out just so you can avoid having to talk about this!”

“But –”

“Besides,” Max said, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, “I’m not gay or bisexual or pansexual or anything. He’d smell a fake a mile away.”

“You’d totally pass for bisexual!” Michael argued. “Look at you” – he tapped Max’s arms, his chest, his notebook – “you have the whole muscly jock with a tender heart thing going on, come on!”

Max stared. “Do you hear yourself?”

“Max,” he urged. “I need you to do this one thing for me! I’d do it for you!”

“You wouldn’t have to,” Max said. “I don’t pass off people who like me to my brother like a freaking torch.”

Michael winced, and Max sighed, his expression softening. “And I like Liz, remember?”

“Then this’ll be the perfect in for you,” he insisted. “Getting close to Alex means getting close to Liz. Then, in – in a month, just until the Spring Dance, you can smooth your way to Liz, and Alex will know the breakup is coming.”

Michael swallowed thickly before he said, “I know him. He hates being left behind, so he’ll end things first.”

Max shook his head. “And he’ll be heartbroken. Assuming your plan works. Is that what you want, Michael?”

Michael hesitated, then, “It’ll just break for a minute.” He added quickly, “Th-then I’ll come in, and he won’t want to date your brother, so he’ll know we’re better off as friends.”

He pursed his lips a moment, then walked past him. “You’re crazy.”

Michael clenched his jaw and blocked Max’s path. “I can’t date Alex,” he said fiercely. “I can’t.”

“He doesn’t know you overheard anything,” Max told him, not unkindly. “Can’t you just . . . play along?”

Michael shook his head, his fists tight at his side. “It’ll come out,” he said. “I know it will. Please, Max, I . . . I can’t lose him. I need you.”

Those were the words, Michael knew, that Max could never say no to. Those were the words that he and Isobel used only in extreme cases, when guilt for taking advantage of their brother’s good heart had to be put aside to fix whatever had happened. Michael hated using them, had used them only once before in his life, but knew he had to use them again now.

Max sighed and looked away, something like resignation settling in the slump of his shoulders. A moment’s pause, then – “Alex hates me.”

“No,” Michael breathed, already smiling despite the pinch in his chest that he would’ve rather not thought about. “You said it yourself, he barely tolerates you.” He took Max’s journal and held it up. “And if anyone can make something into something more, it’s a writer.”

Max wasn’t good at being a boyfriend. Not that he’d ever been anyone’s boyfriend, but that was the problem. He had no idea how to flirt or tease or ask anyone out. It was why he’d spent the better part of the last year pining after Liz Ortecho, stumbling through his hellos.

Now, for whatever reason, he was prepping himself to ask out someone for the first time in his life. And it was Liz’s best friend. The things he did for his siblings . . .

As Michael parked his truck outside the Wild Pony, Max thought about the few times he’d seen Alex around town. He was reminded of the Greek mythology stories he loved reading; of Hades, Lord of the Underworld, and how sunlight couldn’t touch him. He was nothing like his brothers who were all on one sports team or another. Who seemed to have no problem being popular.

Though none of them, he knew, were like Alex. The dark prince, the one everyone wanted to know for his mystery, but the one who didn’t want anyone near him. The one people gave up on because he was too difficult to approach.

You had to have an in. And, Max supposed, Michael was his in.

“Remember,” Michael was telling him as they left the truck. “His favorite song is Welcome to the Black Parade, don’t get him a beer until after his set, and whatever you do, do not insult Star Wars. He didn’t talk to Valenti for two days when he thought there were Jedis in Star Trek.”

Max started to laugh, saw that Michael was watching him expectantly, and huffed. “Would you calm down? I’m the one who gets to worry here. There’s no way Alex will let me come within three feet of him.”

“I already told you,” Michael said. “You have me. You just think about being your usual charming self –”

“Is that supposed to be another joke?”

“—And Alex will be happy to have you.”

Michael stopped abruptly just as they reached the doors. He turned to Max and pointed a warning finger. “Just don’t kiss him.”

Max blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t kiss him,” he repeated seriously. “That’s . . . it’s too far. He deserves to be kissed by someone who . . . really wants to kiss him.” He shook the thought out of his head. “Just – just don’t kiss him.”

“I won’t kiss him,” Max held his hands up. “I don’t want to anyway.”

“And don’t talk that way around him,” Michael grit out. “Anyone would be lucky to have Alex.”

Max looked to the skies for aid. “Then you date him!”

“I can’t,” was all Michael said, and tugged on Max’s arm. “Come on, you’ll do great.”

The Wild Pony doors opened to chatter and cowboys and clanking drinks. Max heaved a sigh, tapping his fingers on his thigh. He could do this. He could do this.

Michael patted his back and went on ahead. Max followed, thinking of what he’d say to Alex when he saw him.

He considered, “What’s up?”, “How’s it hanging?”, “‘Sup, bro!”, and winced at himself. He needed more time to think of something, but he didn’t have any. He spotted Liz first, and Kyle and Alex beside her. Liz and Kyle were laughing about something, but Alex was focused on his music sheets, his fingers running over the keys as if making sure he knew the song by heart.

Right then, Max realized what a terrible idea this was.

“Michael,” he tried, reaching for his brother’s shoulder. “I – I think we should talk about this –”

“Alex!” Michael called, and went ahead. Max was left stumbling behind him.

Alex glanced up and smiled at the sight of Michael. “Hey! I saved you a seat up front!”

Michael looked like he was going to wrap an arm around his shoulders like he usually did, then his smile dimmed and he cleared his throat, patting Alex’s arm in the end.

“Duh, buddy,” he said. “What are friends for?”

Alex glanced down for a fraction of a second before his smile returned and he pulled Michael to behind the keyboard to look at his song. It was like Max wasn’t there.

Michael seemed to notice that, too. He raised his brows pointedly at Max, and Max cleared his throat, stepped forward, and said, “H-hey, Alex.”

Alex looked up like he thought he heard someone talk to him, and his eyes met Max’s. His brows furrowed and he pressed his lips together, clearly confused as to why Michael’s brother was talking to him.

“Hi,” he murmured. “So, Guerin, look at this, I used the lyrics you came up with yesterday.”

“Uh –” Michael barely glanced at the page. “Hope you don’t mind that I brought Max,” he said, pulling Max forward. “He really wanted to hear you sing.”

Alex narrowed his eyes at Max. “If he’s here to, like, make fun of me or something –”

“No,” Max said at once. “No, I – I really do . . . like . . . music.”

Alex stared a moment. Then he looked away, uncomfortable, and took Michael’s hand. He muttered, “Is he coming with us for ice cream after?”

Michael chuckled and subtly removed his hand from Alex’s. Max could see the flash of hurt in Alex’s eyes before it was gone, and he thought he might’ve imagined it.

“We’ll see,” Michael said, “about the ice cream, okay?”

Alex scoffed and bumped their shoulders. “Yeah, okay. The day Michael Guerin says no to ice cream is the day Kyle Valenti gets into med school.”

“Hey!” Kyle argued.

“I’m kidding!” Alex laughed. “I knew you were listening in, you freak!”

Kyle pulled Alex to him, and Michael kept laughing until he whipped around to face Max, then his smile fell away and he hissed, “Work with me here!”

“I’m trying,” Max hissed back. “I am making him uncomfortable, Michael.”

“He’s just not used to you talking to him,” he whispered. “Just – just – just . . . move in there!”

He pushed Max forward, and Max nearly stumbled into Alex’s keyboard. Alex looked startled.

“Max,” Liz blinked, “are you okay?”

Kyle tilted his head. “You drunk already, dude?”

“Uh . . .” Max started, and pointed at the keys. “I like your piano.”

Alex raised a brow. “It’s actually not mine. It belongs to the bar.”

“Oh.” Max nodded. “W-Well, you look really cool. I wish I could play the piano, so that’s – that’s really cool.”

“Thanks?”

“Can I – uh – can I buy you a beer? After your set?”

His face burned as Alex stared. Then, while still watching Max apprehensively, Alex called, “Guerin?”

Michael didn’t answer. Max turned to find that he’d started talking up the first blonde he’d found. Asshole, he thought, clearly looking for any excuse to leave him alone with his best friend.

He looked back at Alex, and saw that he was watching Michael, too. His shoulders had fallen, and his brows pinched, but there was no surprise in his face. He was so used to Michael ignoring him when a better offer came along.

He knew he should say something, though he didn’t know what. If Alex thought of Michael as nothing but a friend, this wouldn’t have hurt him.

Liz then suddenly wrapped her arms around Alex’s waist, tighter and tighter until he burst into laughter. Kyle picked up the music sheets and complained why Alex never played any heavy metal.

“You dress like you play it,” he said, “is all I’m saying!”

They were clearly trying to distract him from whatever Michael was doing. Max scratched the back of his head, not knowing what to do himself.

When the show started, Michael was already in his seat, pulling Max to sit down beside him. Liz clapped the loudest and Kyle offered a thumbs up. Michael kept his arms crossed, as if afraid anything he did would be taken the wrong way. Max could see Alex’s momentary confusion before Mimi DeLuca announced his song.

Max was looking everywhere, namely at Liz, until Michael nudged his side with his elbow, and Alex started playing. As the first few notes fell together like a soothing waterfall, Max started. He looked to Alex, eyes wide. This was his music? He didn’t know why, but he’d imagined, like Kyle had teased, heavy metal or I-hate-everything ballads. But this . . .

Not thirty seconds in, Max’s eyes had fallen shut.

He had no idea how it had happened. One second, he was in a wooden chair at a bar where most of the crowd was laughing and talking over the music. The next, he found himself in a forest, surrounded by pine trees, with a clear lake behind him.

When Alex started to sing – who knew he had such a smooth voice? – Max then felt the breeze of a desert night across his cheeks, the stars and full moon bright above, the rest of the world turned to peaceful quiet.

The further along Alex got in his song, the more Max’s fingers itched to write. He couldn’t remember the last time ideas poured into his head like this, the last time he felt his heart swell with the anticipation of creating something.

This was a song Alex had made up. Had he always had such talent? Max had never been to one of his gig’s before because he’d never been invited. Or he had, and he had been lost in the chattering crowd in the back, not paying attention.

Now, he had to pay attention. He found it impossible to do anything else. When Alex finished, his friends and Michael stood to applaud. Liz screamed, Kyle whistled, and Michael looked prouder than Max had ever seen him of anybody. Max slowly did the same, staring.

Alex looked red-faced, but his eyes shone brightly and he smiled widely, like even he could feel the emotion he’d just created. He stepped down, running a hand through his dark hair, and accepted the bottle of water from Kyle with a thanks.

“Is it over?” he breathed after taking big gulps.

“Yeah,” Kyle laughed, ruffling his hair and messing it up again. “It’s over, buddy.”

“That’s my Alex,” Michael said before he could help it, and Max saw the blush deepen in Alex’s cheeks. Michael seemed to have realized his mistake, and handed a cold beer under the table to Max.

Max hesitated, then held it out for Alex to take.

Alex looked startled, but he was still smiling. “Thanks,” he murmured, accepting the bottle.

“So,” Kyle drummed his hands on the table. “Ice cream to celebrate?”

“Ice cream!” Liz yelled and Alex laughed. He turned to Michael.

“Ice cream?”

“Uh . . .” Michael looked over at the blonde he’d been flirting with. She waved to him from across the bar. Max saw the tick in his jaw, the way his fingers curled to fists under the table, and he knew that the last thing Michael wanted to do was cancel on Alex.

Yet that was what he did.

“Raincheck?” he said, and nudged his chin at the girl. “I think I’m about to live the Rockstar fantasy.”

Liz frowned, disapproving. “But you’re not the Rockstar. Alex is.”

“Well, the girls have to go somewhere,” he shrugged, already walking backwards. “If any guys show up, I’ll send ‘em your way, babe.”

“O-Oh,” Alex’s brows pinched. “Okay . . .”

“Max can take my place!” he offered, and turned his back to them. “See you tomorrow!”

“Jackass,” Kyle muttered.

Max opened his mouth to defend Michael, not knowing what he’d say exactly, when Alex said, “He’s just been really stressed out lately. He – he has all those honor classes. I think he should let off a little steam.”

Liz did not look like she agreed. “Alex . . .”

“It’s okay, really,” he said, then managed a smile that did not reach his eyes. “More for us, right?”

Max stared. “You really care about him, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Alex said simply, and looked at Michael’s retreating form with a forlorn look. “He’s my best friend.”

Alex seemed distracted. No matter how much Liz and Kyle tried to pull him into conversation, the best he could manage was a smile that even Max could tell was fake. Max felt kind of bad for him. He seemed to really be trying his best to cheer up, but every time a blonde girl or any straight couple passed, his mood dimmed again, like he couldn’t help but wonder what Michael was doing now.

Not knowing what else to do, Max nudged his arm and asked the only question he could think to. “Did you really write that song you sang tonight?”

Alex looked confused as to why Max would ask him anything, and he shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah.”

Max shook his head. “That’s so cool,” he breathed. “It – I mean, it was really good.”

Alex checked to make sure Liz and Kyle were too caught up with each other to hear them, then said, “Okay, what’s your deal, Evans? Why are you suddenly being so nice to me?”

Max frowned. “I’ve always been nice to you.”

Alex raised a skeptical brow. “You’ve always been polite. And that’s only because I’m friends with your brother. I know you’re as scared of me as everyone else.”

“That’s not true!” Max said at once. “I’m scared of everyone!”

Alex blinked, and Max realized too late what he’d said. He blushed and looked down, expecting to be laughed at. When he heard Alex huff an incredulous chuckle, he shut his eyes tight, humiliated.

Then he said, “You? Mr. Perfect?”

“I’m not perfect.”

Alex scrunched his nose. Max was reminded of a kitten. “Aren’t you though? Tall, dark, and handsome,” he nudged his chin at the notebook poking out of Max’s back pocket. “And you write.”

Max smirked. “But you’re all of those things.”

Alex blinked, startled, and Max could’ve sworn he saw a pink tint across his cheeks. Maybe it was just too dark.

Max cleared his throat and went on. “You should know then, better than anyone, that it doesn’t matter how good-looking you are. Sooner or later, some people just give up trying to get close to you.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Alex scoffed halfheartedly. “Trying to get close to me?”

He wouldn’t look at Max as he said it, as if he was sure that was not what was going on. It made Max’s words come out more smoothly than he’d expected. “Yes. It is.”

Alex stopped, surprised. Max also stopped and faced him. He could see Liz and Kyle stop out of the corner of his eyes, and prayed they couldn’t hear him.

When he spoke, the lie left his lips with a little more trouble. “I like you, Alex. I – I always have. I’ve wanted to talk to you for years, but I . . . I’m not good at . . .” he gestured at his entire self, as if to say everything about him was an obstacle.

“That’s why Michael brought me to the show tonight,” he said. “He knew I’ve wanted to talk to you forever. And I finally got to.”

Alex stared, his expression unreadable. For a terrifying moment, Max wondered if he saw through the charade. Then he said, “You like me?”

He said it more like a statement, a dare. Max could only nod once, gripping his notebook so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Then he saw it. The doubt and suspicion behind Alex’s eyes. Alex sighed and kept walking. “Then let’s see how long,” he said, “until you give up, too.”

Max Evans stared. A lot.

Alex was not new to people watching him. Everyone was usually curious about the youngest of the Manes brothers until they realized just how different and unapproachable Alex was, and then their curiosity’s limit showed.

But the longer Max stared, the more curious he seemed to become. If he wasn’t glancing at Alex’s hair or eyeliner, he was looking at Alex’s bracelets, the rings on his fingers, the drawings on his shirt, his necklace, his nail polish.

Alex felt like he was being studied. It was weird. He wished Michael was here to get Max to stop staring. He wished he could snap at Max to look away, but the guy was like a walking cinnamon roll. It was impossible to get angry at him without feeling bad.

When Alex ordered his Neapolitan ice cream, Max not only insisted on paying for it, but offered a spoon of his own lemon sherbet cup for Alex to try.

“Don’t you have, like, hundreds of other friends you could be spending Friday night with?” Alex finally asked.

“Just my brother and sister,” Max confessed, picking at his sorbet. “Hey, since it’s Saturday tomorrow, y-you want to do something?” Then, as if it was an afterthought, added, “Together.”

“No,” Alex grumbled around his spoon.

“Why not?”

“Because I always spend Saturdays with Michael,” he said, and immediately longed for Michael again. He wondered if he was having a lot more fun than Alex was right now. He tried not to think any harder about where Michael might be.

“Oh,” Max said quietly. Alex glanced at him and saw that he was awkwardly tipping the melted part of his sherbet into his mouth. His lips twitched before he quickly schooled his features.

He thought that would be the end of that conversation, but then Max asked, “If he cancels, you wanna do something?”

Alex frowned. “Why would you think he’d cancel?”

“Just . . .” he shrugged. “He kinda does what he wants, you know?”

“Michael never cancels on me,” Alex bit back.

He nodded, but wouldn’t look at Alex again. “Sorry.”

Alex faltered. There it was, that guilt again. Saturdays belonged to him and Michael. He didn’t want anyone else coming along. He continued quietly eating his ice cream. At least maybe now Max would know to give up this ridiculous chase.

“Well, maybe Sunday then?”

Alex blinked and looked up. “W-What?”

Max was smiling nervously, swirling the contents of his sherbet. “There’s – well, there’s this museum for fine art pieces. I – I heard it’s really cool, I’ve been meaning to go, but Isobel and Michael don’t really . . . like paintings and sculptures.” He shook his head. “Sorry, I know you must not either, I – I don’t know why I thought you would –”

“Paintings?” Alex couldn’t help but ask. “Like Potthast? And Einaudi?”

Max blinked. “Y-You know about them?”

“I mean,” Alex scrunched his shoulders. “I’m not an idiot. I love any artist who pours themselves into their work. It’s” – he blushed – “inspiring.”

Max perked up. “Right?! I’d do anything to be a writer, you know? Seeing people love something as much as I love books, it kind of makes me feel like . . .”

“Like it all has to mean something,” Alex finished, smiling to himself. “I can’t love it this much for nothing.”

Max huffed a laugh. He looked surprised, his cheeks tinted pink. “Yeah! Yeah, exactly . . .”

Neither of them said anything for the next minute. Alex rubbed the sole of his shoe against the pavement and cleared his throat.

“I mean,” he finally said, “I guess . . . if I’m really not doing anything Sunday . . . I can come. B-But only if Michael’s coming, too! I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

Max didn’t say anything, and Alex chanced a glance at him to see he had a small smile.

“What?” he demanded. “I said I’d – I’d come. M-Maybe!”

Max nodded. “Er – can I have your number?”

Don’t do it, Alex thought. Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it. Max was just a stranger.

But he’s not a complete stranger, he reminded himself. He was Michael’s brother, and if Michael was letting him get this close to their tight little group, then he must’ve trusted that Alex was safe around him. And he could trust Michael more than anyone to look after him. He knew he could.

“Yeah,” he said, handing Max his phone without looking at him. He saw Liz and Kyle watch him from across the street where they were twirling around a lamppost. They were tilting their heads and smirking, like they knew something he didn’t.

Alex cleared his throat, and, as if his friends could hear him, added in a mutter, “Whatever.”

Even Max smiled at that.

The next morning, Max woke to knocking on his window. He saw Michael and leapt out of bed, letting him in.

“Can’t you knock like a normal person?”

“Didn’t want to wake anyone else up,” he said. He smelled like he’d spent all of last night drinking, but his curls were wild, like he’d walked for hours in the desert instead of lying in someone’s bed.

He nudged Max aside and sat cross-legged on his bed, shoes and all. “Tell me about Alex,” he said. “How’d last night go?”

Max put his pillows up and slumped against them. “Fine. Good. Okay, I guess. He was mostly quiet the whole time. Did you have to blow him off like that?”

Michael looked down and clenched his jaw. “Don’t remind me,” he grumbled. “I hated not being there. The whole time she was talking in my ear, I was trying not to get her to gag on me. I almost called Alex like fifty times!”

He shook his head, as if eager to be rid of the memory. “Forget me. So he didn’t say anything the entire night?”

“No,” Max said. “He did. I got him talking about music and other artists and stuff. I even asked him out to the museum today, just like you said.”

Michael clapped him on the shoulder, happy. “Yeah? Max Evans, you sly dog!”

Max couldn’t share in his enthusiasm. Would Michael have been so happy if he’d seen the look on Alex’s face last night? The way he defended him even when it was clear that his own heart was breaking?

“Yeah,” Max said, rubbing his eye. “Said no.”

“Well,” Michael shrugged a shoulder, “it’s not like he was going to fall in love with you in a few hours.”

“Actually,” Max said, “he said he might be able to come tomorrow. He can’t today because you guys usually hang out on Saturdays.”

Michael raised a brow. “Oh yeah?” He hummed, studying the blanket. After a long few minutes, he said, “I might . . . just call him and –”

“Er –” Max cut him off, “he was pretty adamant that you would never cancel on him. Even after . . . you kind of already did.”

Michael’s shoulders slumped, and he looked away. He muttered, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Michael,” Max sighed. “Look, can’t you just talk to him about this? It looks like he really cares about you, I’m sure if you told him what you heard –”

“He’d hate me,” Michael said. “Imagine finding out that the one person you like knows you like them, and it makes them uncomfortable. Would you ever be able to look them in the face again?”

Max pressed the heel of his palm into his eye. “And you’re sure you don’t like Alex like that? At all?”

Michael looked up, holding his brother’s gaze. Max had never seen him so fierce. “I can’t date him, Max.”

“Why not?” Max said. “You don’t think your relationship would survive a breakup?”

“I can’t risk it,” he said. “I won’t.”

Max almost pointed out that that wasn’t an answer, but decided not to. “Fine, well,” he laid back down and turned his back to Michael, trying to fall asleep again. “He’s not going anywhere with me on a Saturday, so see you tomorrow.”

Michael did not leave, or say anything for a good long while. Then Max heard shuffling, and tapping. He peeked an eye open and saw Michael texting. Immediately, the look on Alex’s face last night hit him and he sat up.

“What’re you doing?” he demanded, reaching for Michael’s phone. Michael kept himself out of reach. “Michael, I told you, if you cancel –”

“I’m not canceling,” Michael murmured, brows pinched. “Just texting someone.” His finger hovered over the screen a moment before he hit send. “There,” he said, pocketing his phone. He didn’t look any happier than he’d been seconds ago. “Now Alex will be the one asking you out.”

Max’s shoulders slumped. “What’d you do?”

Michael didn’t answer, but the guilt on his face said it all. He was about to break Alex’s heart.

Alex had woken early. Last night he’d climbed through his window to his father banging on his door. He’d managed to sneak under the covers and play asleep the second Jesse had burst through, but he knew his luck wouldn’t last.

It hadn’t mattered, because there was nothing that was going to keep him from an entire day with Michael. So he’d risen early, forgotten about breakfast at the risk of running into his father and being trapped inside again, and just had water from the hydro flask he kept by his bed – he didn’t care, he would eat later with Michael. He’d thrown on his favorite skull and crossbones t-shirt, his silver skull choker, and his rings.

He felt silly fixing his hair in the mirror, running his hand through it so that the strands looked windswept. It wasn’t hard, as his hair rarely stayed down neatly. He’d learned to live with it.

Michael wouldn’t ever like him like he liked girls, he knew that, but maybe . . . maybe some part of him might find Alex attractive. Maybe he might look at him differently without realizing that he was looking at him differently.

It was dumb, but he could hope.

At least, he had hoped until Michael met him in front of their favorite coffeeshop with his arm around Maria DeLuca’s shoulders. Alex had been holding two coffees, a caramel macchiato for him and a mocha for Michael, because he loved chocolate. He’d nearly dropped them at the sight.

“Hey!” Michael called.

“Uh – hey, Alex,” Maria smiled awkwardly. “Guerin,” she said, “I thought we were hanging out today.”

“We are!” Michael smiled widely, taking his coffee and handing it to her. “With Alex! I always spend Saturdays with Alex.”

“B-But . . .” Alex looked between them. He could feel his heart slowly sinking into his stomach. He pressed his lips together in a quick smile to Maria and tugged Michael aside by his sleeve. “What’s going on?” he whispered. “We always spend Saturdays together.”

Michael tilted his head. “We are together.”

“Alone,” Alex insisted. “Just you and me, remember? We’ve never invited anyone else. And . . . Guerin, Maria?”

Michael laughed. He was laughing far too easily, and smiling way too much. He knew that of all people, bringing Maria would be a real sting. Didn’t he care about how Alex felt? And today of all days?

“Come on, Alex,” he said. “I’m just trying to have a little fun here.”

Alex felt like he’d just been slapped. “S-So being with me isn’t fun?”

Michael rolled his eyes like he thought Alex was messing around. Alex, horrifically, thought he might cry.

“Am I supposed to turn down a hot girl for you?” he said, taking Alex’s coffee and having a sip. “Seriously, so Maria’s coming. What’s the big deal, right? I mean, it’s not like we’re dating.”

He reached out to pat Alex’s shoulder, but Alex flinched back, away from his touch. For a split second, Michael’s face fell and he looked mortified. But it was gone so quickly that Alex was sure he must’ve imagined it.

He felt guilty, and dramatic, and pathetic. He felt cast aside, unwanted. All of that was okay, he was used to it. Maybe not from Michael, never from Michael, but he was used to it.

So he did what he always did when he was reminded just how worthless he was. He forced his chin up, exhaled shakily, and kept his words steady. “I actually just remembered that Max wanted to go to a museum thing today.”

Michael was still smiling. It felt wrong, but Alex couldn’t look at him too long to read into it. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Alex took another few steps back. He couldn’t remember ever wanting to be away from Michael, but at this moment nowhere felt far away enough. “He sounded like he really wanted me to go with him, but I had to say no because of today.” He moved further away. “I really wanted to go, too, to be honest. It sounded cool.”

“Yeah?” Michael sounded quieter. Maybe that was just because of the distance between them.

“So if you’re going to hang out with someone else, then I guess it’s okay if I go, too?”

Michael didn’t answer for a minute. “Yeah. No, yeah, that’s great. Works out for both of us, huh?”

Alex turned around so Michael didn’t see his face fall. “Yeah,” he said, and began walking away. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Before Michael could say anything else, Alex pulled out his phone. He wouldn’t dial until he rounded the corner and was out of Michael’s sight. He fell back against the wall, his legs giving out under him. He held the phone to his forehead, breathing deeply.

Kyle, he knew, was on a camping trip for the weekend with his dad. Liz was busy working shifts at the Crashdown.

It’s okay, Alex told himself. It’s okay. You don’t need anybody. It’s okay.

He may not have needed anyone, but he didn’t want to be alone today. So he dialed Max’s name, and held the phone to his ear.

It rung twice, then Max answered. “Alex?” There was hesitation in his voice that made Alex blush. Was he not actually expecting Alex to call?

“Er – hey,” Alex murmured, and rubbed his face with one hand. “Look, t-turns out I’m free today after all . . . If you . . . still want to go to the museum . . .”

Max didn’t answer for a long few seconds.

“O-Or not,” he said quickly, “doesn’t really matter to me, I just thought –”

“Yeah!” Max said, “Yeah, I’m – sorry, I was changing. I’m ready to go when you are! Where do you want me to meet you?”

Alex’s shoulders slumped. He felt a strange relief trickling through his chest, but it didn’t ease the weight on his heart. He muttered, “Wherever you want. Just text me the address.”

He waited for Max’s okay, then hung up. He rested his chin on his knees as he waited for the message to come in, closing his eyes and promising himself that he would not cry.

Max didn’t live in a house. He lived in a mansion. The two story villa stretched out over a valley of cacti and desert flowers, the windows long and the front doors big enough to fit ten grown men standing side by side. Michael had once told Alex how he’d sneak in through his brother and sister’s windows, and Alex now had to wonder how.

No sooner had he gotten to the door than Max came stumbling out, a bag thrown over his shoulder.

“Hey,” he panted, “let’s go.”

Without waiting for Alex’s greeting, he bodily turned Alex around and nudged him back toward the road. Alex was not new to being hidden away by boys who’d rather their parents not see him, but he’d already had his plans with Michael ruined, and was in no mood to humor any homophobia.

“What?” he sighed. “Afraid mommy and daddy will know you asked out a guy?”

Max blinked, surprised. He stopped. “What’re you talking about? I’m not trying to hide you from my parents.” He looked over his shoulder as if remembering they were supposed to be in a hurry, and frog-marched Alex away again.

“Oh?” Alex rolled his eyes. He tried to ground his heels to make it harder for Max but had no will to do it. He was tired, but anything was better than spending the day curled up in bed, abandoned and pitiful. “The who are we trying to hide from?”

“My . . . crap . . .” Max trailed off, and, following his gaze, Alex understood why. At the end of the road, her arms crossed, her purse hanging off one elbow, was Isobel Evans. She did not look happy.

“Sneaking off?” she demanded. “Who do you think you are? Michael?”

“Isobel,” Max warned. “Not now.”

“Did you honestly think you could hide your date?” Isobel narrowed her eyes at Alex. “Huh. You weren’t kidding. It really is Alex Manes.” She reached a hand towards his face. “You were right, he is very pretty –”

“Isobel,” Max slid in between Alex and Isobel, forbidding her from touching him. “I never said that.” Then to Alex, “I never said that. N-Not that you’re not – I mean, clearly you are –”

He shook his head, and turned back to Isobel, his jaw clenched. “I’m not kidding, leave us alone.”

Isobel was relentless, tilting her head over her brother’s shoulder, since she was almost as tall as he was. “Oh, what do you think I’m going to do, Max? Get out of the way, let me look at him!”

“Alex,” Max said, his wary eyes on his sister, “I am so sorry about this.”

“Sorry about what?” she demanded. “I didn’t do anything! Get out of the way, Max! Do you have any idea how rare it is to get a look at him this up close?!”

“He’s not an octopus, Isobel!”

“It’s a compliment!” She told Alex, “It’s a compliment, it means you’re really cute.”

“We have to go,” Max insisted, fending off his sister’s reaching hands. “We have a thing at the museum and –”

“What museum? Why didn’t you invite me? I want to come with you!”

“NO!”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll make it weird!”

“What does that even mean? Scared I’ll embarrass you in front of your new boyfriend?”

“Isobel!”

Watching them, Alex should’ve been annoyed. But Max was being gentle with his sister, and Isobel’s eyes were so genuine that Alex could tell her curiosity was innocent and eager. There didn’t seem to be a malicious bone in either of their bodies.

Crouching behind a building just half an hour ago, Alex had not thought he’d be able to smile for the rest of the day. Now, a giggle escaped his lips before he could help it.

Max and Isobel stopped and stared, wide eyed. Max’s cheeks were tinted pink. Alex pretended not to notice.

“Isobel,” he said wearily, “you want to come with us?”

Isobel looked momentarily surprised, then pleased, a satisfied grin stretching across her pink lips. She lightly shouldered her way past Max and hooked her arm around Alex’s.

“I like him,” Isobel said cheerfully, and pulled Alex down the road. Alex looked over his shoulder at Max, who blinked out of his haze and ran to catch up to them.

“Why would you invite her?” Max murmured.

Alex took one look at Isobel and smiled, something about her radiant demeanor an interesting contrast to the darkness he lived in. Maybe it was having a writer with him, maybe it was that he was kind of a writer himself, but he thought there was a fascinating story here between the three of them.

To Max, however, he merely shrugged a shoulder and smirked.

“Come on, Evans,” he said. “I wouldn’t want you to think this was a date.”

Max again blushed, and Alex again pretended not to notice.

Ahhhh here it is!!! Finally!!!

I know only three to four people may enjoy this, but I wrote it mostly for me, so my expectations are low. Or, I should say, that’s how I’m trying to keep them. Don’t ask me how long until the next chapter comes up, this is just supposed to be fun. Any questions about updates shall be ignored.

That said, if you did enjoy it, comment! Tell me what you liked, if it was funny, angsty, if it’s not your kind of thing but you decided to give it a chance anyway - I love that stuff. And share/reblog. You may not have liked it, but maybe someone else really will!

#alex manes #max evans #sheriff manes #max x alex #sheriff manes fic #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #sheriff manes fanfic #sheriff manes fanfiction #tyler blackburn #nathan dean parsons

48 notes · View notes

chxrrysangel · 3 years

Text

I Need a Favor

Part One | Masterlist | Part Three

Summary || A talk with Wanda and Vision at the ice cream parlor gives you a grand idea. Now only to convince your partner to go along with it.

pairing || fakeboyfriend!bucky x black!ofc

word count || 1,730 words

Notes || Diana uses she/they pronouns

Warnings || brief mention of disordered eating, language

"I ruined everything Wanda. She's never gonna talk to me again, " I say while salty tear drops from my cheek into the soft serve below me.

I don't think I've cried this much since Nat and I got into the same university. At least that was a happy memory. Wanda wraps her arms around my body, trying her best to console me.

"Vision! Another cup of Cotton Candy over here!"

Vision, Wanda's boyfriend, pops up from behind the counter, blond hair sticking up in all directions. That's what happens when he's in distress, that man never stops touching his hair.

"But Wanda--". He attempts to argue with her. But when he sees the glare her features are sporting, the words quickly die in his throat.

"Alright."

Not a minute later, Vision wanders over to our table carrying a medium sized bowl on Cotton Candy ice cream, my favorite. The shop is closed now, the last customers leaving about 10 minutes ago. I probably shouldn't be eating my feelings considering I haven't always had the best relationship with food, but I'll cry about that later. Right now, I just need to wallow in the guilt of the mess I've made.

"So, what's the problem exactly Diana? Why are you so distraught right now?" I sigh and will the tears to subside enough for me to give the breakdown. Seeing me struggle to keep my composure, Wanda steps in and I thank the universe for her.

"They kissed Steve at a party a few weeks ago and now he thinks she has a crush on him. Whether she does or doesn't isn't important because he cornered her in the library earlier and now she has to figure out what to do ASAP. They don't want Nat to find out about Steve's "revelation". "

"Shit, Di. So there's nothing you can do? You have no dirt on 'im? Threaten him to keep the secret? Maybe call in a favor or something?"

Favor. Call in a favor.

"Oh my god, Vision you're a genius! I could literally kiss you right now! I mean, obviously I wouldn't. But, you get what I mean." I scramble to gather my things and throw a ten dollar bill on the tabletop.

"I'll see you guys later! I have to go do something!" I don't wait for their response before I'm hurdling out the door and running towards Jones Apartments.

~~~

I kind of forgot the distance between Jones Apartments and Wanda's Creamery. That is why by the time I reach them, I feel like someone could peel me off the sidewalk. I don't think I've ever been this out of breath in my entire life. Jesus Christ, how is Nat on the track team? I remind myself to ask her about her running routine while I sit on the curb, trying my best not to burst a lung.

"Diana?" My head perks up at the sound of my name, surprised to see the exact person I was looking for.

"James!"

"Diana, I told you not to call me that." I get up from the curb so we're more or less eye level. I don't exactly like being talked down to.

"Anyways James, I need to talk to you."

"No." James sidesteps around me, heading towards the swivel door entrance."

"And why not?" I chase after him, hoping that by following him, he'll get annoyed and let me speak so I can go home. It is a Friday after all, I'm sure he has something to do. Probably partying at the frat house. Let's be real here.

"Because, I don't want to." He doesn't wait for my response before he's walking down the corridor to the elevator. I don't know why he thinks he'll be able to escape me, it's not like I don't know his apartment number or anything.

"James--", he looks at me with an irritated expression,"Okay, okay. Bucky. I have a proposition for you.”

"And what about that exactly?"

"That's for a space with privacy. You never know who's listening." He sighs and rolls his eyes before motioning for me to follow. Gotcha. Hook, line, and sinker.

~~~~

"Absolutely fucking not."

"What do you mean?! I've barely said a thing!"

"It's Steve Rogers, that's enough for me to say no."

"C'mon Buck! Please! I will literally get on my hands and knees, and beg for you to say yes." He smirks at my words and I proceed to punch him in the arm.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You know exactly what that was for. Anyways, I really, really need your help."

"I already said no. Now get out." I'm starting to get annoyed with him. He's so stubborn.

"James, will you cool it with the bad boy, angry man act! I know you, you fucking moron. You can't fool me with that one. " He stares at me from his seat on the kitchen counter.

"It's not an act."

"Right, because it's not like just 6 months ago you were laying in bed with me at my apartment crying to A Walk to Remember. You're a total baby."

His jaw ticks at my reminder. Ha, gotcha. During the spring of Sophomore year, I tutored James for a semester because he was in trouble of losing his spot on the baseball team. And as they're most valuable and skilled player, coach couldn't let that happen. He'd also lose his scholarship. At first he hated me, but over time we developed a pretty decent friendship. He's actually a really cool guy, and a total softie at that.

"Shut up."

"Ah, so you do remember us being friends at one point. Well, at least before you stopped returning my calls and unfollowed me on Instagram and Twitter."

"Sorry 'bout that." He smiles sheepishly, seemingly apologetic.

"You should be. Anyways, weren't you and Steve friends freshman year? I'd only know him for like a year and a half, but I distinctly remember that you two used to hang out."

"Yeah, we did. But that's in the past." He hops off the counter, opening the fridge to grab a beer. I watch him as he pops the top with his metal arm, the depth of its capabilities continuing to amaze me.

"Why, what happened? Did you guys fall out over a girl or something?," I ask with a laugh. He stays silent.

"Oh my god. You guys did break up over a girl. So, who's the lucky lady?" Again, he doesn't respond.

"Do I know her?" Ok, now I'm intrigued. Maybe a little bit nosy as well, but more intrigued. Inquisitive, if you will.

Again, my words are met with silence.

"Oo, so I do know her. Is it Nat?" He pause for just a millisecond, the same way I did at the party.

"Di, will you just drop it?"

"Oh my god!--" I jump out of my chair, squealing with excitement. "--So, it is Nat!" Wait, shit. It's Nat. Oh, this is bad.

"You think?" Did I say that out loud?

"Yes, you did. Now will you get out of my apartment please?"

"Nope, we have much to discuss"

~~~

"So, what exactly do I get out of this besides a headache?"

"Ouch, James. I'm not that bad. So basically, I keep your secret that you ever liked Nat. You get to rub it in Steve's that your crush is a thing of the past. I get him off my back, and finally I figure out how to get you a date with Daisy when we fake break up."

"Ok, I can deal with this. We're gonna need a contract though."

"Oo, look at you using your brain. I guess my tutoring paid off." He pushes me, nearly sending me off the chair to my death.

"Hey, watch it cyborg! What good is a fake girlfriend if you kill them?" Bucky simply rolls his eyes, before pulling out a pen and paper from a side drawer.

"Okay, rule number one : don't tell a single soul. Not one. Got it?"

"Yes, dad," I respond whilst rolling my eyes. He stares at me for a second longer than necessary and I look at him questioningly.

"What?"

"Nothing. Rule two?"

"Um...we have to act decently couple-y. So that means kissing, you walk me to my classes, I go to your games, stuff like that."

"Okay, good point. Rule three, you have to indulge in some of the things I like. Especially my motorcycle."

"Uh uh. No fucking way am I willingly getting on that death trap."

He laughs at me. He fucking laughs at me. "y/n, it's not that bad I promise. I won't let you die."

"You don't know that."

"I promise, I won't let you die. " He smiles wide at me, enough for his dimples to poke out. He knows how much I love dimples. Well played, Barnes. Well played.

"Okay, put it as a conditional clause. While we're on that note, you have to indulge in my interests too. You have to let me braid your hair once in a while." His face drops in horror.

"Uh uh. Don't even try it Barnes. If I'm willing to put my life in your hands, I'm sure you'll survive some french braids and cornrows." He looks at me for a second before sighing in defeat, realizing I'm not gonna budge any time soon.

"Okay fine, anything else?"

"When are we gonna break up? Or, like what's our condition if it keeps going? We've gotta be believable here." The two of us sit in silence for a few moments, thinking of a time that would suit the earth-shattering demise of our passionate love story.

"Got it! You know that holiday banquet/fundraiser thing the dean throws just after New Years'? You know the one where everyone dresses up like it's the goddamn Met Gala? Well, that banquet has the most hookups of any public event this school has all year. You'd be an absolute moron to let your partner go without you. If we're still doing this by then, you have to go with me."

The banquet is four months from now, so there's absolutely no way in hell we'll still be doing this by that time. With that thought in mind, we shake hands and sign our names at the bottom.

"You've got yourself a deal Barnes."

#fakeboyfriend!bucky #fake relationship #steve rogers #romanogers #natasha romanov #bucky barnes x black!ofc #bucky barnes x original female character #black!oc #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader

64 notes · View notes

pm-my-hubbies · 3 years

Text

Who Are You Talking To | C.E

Summary: Reader is fed up with Chris not spending time with her on her week-long break.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Black!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning(s): None!

A/N: I accidentally shared this through my personal account! I apologize for any confusion if I tagged you the first time!

Chris was ecstatic when I informed him of the dates for my Fall Break.

He planned out everything we would do together. From planting a blanket in the middle of a park for a lovely picnic to strolling through farms for a pumpkin to carve and sit on our porch. He did all of that.

Yet he’s one strike away from me slapping the shit out of him. He’s been blowing me off every second and I’m due to return for work in two days. We hadn’t done any of what he promised we would accomplish together weeks ago. Instead, he handled work business downstairs for the first part of the day and followed that up with indulging in his own hobbies. I wasn’t a part of any of it.

To add on to it, his Zoom sessions weren’t successful and that prompted him to radiate negativity. Dinner time consisted of him giving me short answers or grunts and through it all, I remained optimistic. I figured being positive and not calling him out on his behavior right then would flip a switch in him to acknowledge how he was acting towards me but nothing happened.

My feet connected with the cold wooden flooring, goosebumps rising on the parts of my body that were exposed because of the tank top and pajama shorts I wore. The clock read 11:54 p.m. I’m praying Chris let Dodger out for the last time this evening.

The volume of the television in the living room increased the closer I dragged my feet to where I presumed he would be resting. Turning the corner, Dodger was the first one I spotted as he slept soundly on his stuffed animal right by the entrance to the room. Chris, on the other hand, watched CNN on blast as if he was an old man struggling to hear; his arms were folded across his chest while he laid on his side and blankly stared at the bright screen.

I rolled my eyes at the absurdity of my week spent at home. “Chris.” I called in a firm voice that was loud enough for Dodger to only blink his eyes open and instantly travel back to Dreamland.

My boyfriend only shifted his gaze to look at me. “Hm?”

“Did you let Dodge out one last time?”

“Mm-mm.”

Breathe Y/N, breathe. I let out a soft sigh as I bent down to gently shake the canine awake. “Dodger, honey. Let’s go outside.” I knew from Chris’ response he wouldn’t be letting our dog out anytime soon. The man would probably drag himself down the hall to bed as the sun rose for a new day.

Dodger simply obeyed my soft command by standing and putting on a show of dramatically stretching. As we made our way towards the back door right behind my miserable boyfriend, I made sure to cut my brown eyes at his lounging figure and hoped he could feel my glare.

Once again, my skin tingled as the cool night air caressed my legs and arms. To keep myself warm, I folded my limbs across my chest, rocking on the balls of my feet. My eyes managed to follow Dodger’s sniffing silhouette in the darkness but as soon as he began the squat for a number two, I looked away.

By now, Chris had shut off the loud tv. Finally.

“I thought you said we would be hanging out for my Fall Break?” I questioned with my back facing him as I kept my eyes on the dog.

“What?”

“I thought you wanted to hang out with me for my break. Week-long, might I add.”

“We are.”

“No we’re not, Chris. And you know it.” I sighed as I moved to slide the door closed but ceased my movement to leave an opening for Dodger in case he finished early. With my hands on my hips, I rotated around to stare down Chris. “You’ve spent every single day downstairs taking care of business with A Starting Point and work, which I have no problem with. It’s what you do afterwards that bothers me. Barely talking to me or not at all and then you sit down here to do whatever. I was trying to be positive and give you your space but now—”

“But now your little feelings are hurt, right?” he snapped. “You’re hurt because I can’t devote 100% of my attention to you on your little break? News flash: everything isn’t about you, Y/N. So, stop your whining and actually think about what I’m going through.”

This would’ve shattered a younger version of myself. But after years of reflection, I realized I was always given the opportunity to fight back instead of wallowing in my tears.

First, I glanced to my left. Then to my right. No sign of life. I grimaced at my boyfriend. “You must not be talking to me.” I indicated with a point towards my chest. “You must be talking to this goddamn wall.” I sassed, jabbing my thumb to the wall behind me.

Suddenly, for the first time in the year Chris and I have been together, his eyes were size of saucers as it dawned on him what he’d done. And how I responded.

Tonight, was his first time taking his anger out on me. Yes, we’ve had our arguments, but those moments were different. This happened to be the time where the world was against Chris and rather than rely on me to comfort him (as I usually would), he was victimizing himself. He probably expected my body to rack with sobs at the harshness of his words, but I was through with that shit tonight.

“Since you wanna pull a Karen on me, your ass can sleep on the couch tonight.” I punished him. In that moment, I felt the softness brushing against my legs. Dodger was finally in. I pulled the door closed all the way this time and locked it. “Come on Dodger, your dad is being an asshat. You can sleep with me.”

Chris was frozen in his spot as the both of us moved past him. I made sure to give him a little bump on the way with my shoulder.

While waiting for Dodger to grasp his animal in his mouth, I observed him throw Chris a quick glance as if telling him that he fucked up. Funnily enough, our dog was the first to exit the scene and hold his head high as he trekked to the bedroom.

“I’m locking that fucking door tonight. Don’t even try it. You made your bed, now lay in it.” I dictated.

~*~

Surprisingly, I slept like a baby. Maybe it’s because I finally said something to Chris about his behavior lately. The previous nights, he would slumber away while I laid awake wondering if we would even spend time together before I headed back to work. Calling him out felt right.

I took care of my morning routine before unlocking the bedroom door and calling for Dodger to wake up. What I didn’t expect on the other side was the tray we roll out for sick days to be standing in front of the door.

Dodger was planning on being difficult as he hadn’t moved from his spot. This gave me ample time to study the tray with a covered meal placed on top and a horizontally folded card with my name scribbled on it.

“You were right last night. I have been distant throughout your break and I’m sorry for ruining the plans I promised. It’s a short amount of time left with you but we’re going to get started early. Eat the breakfast I made for you and then freshen up by putting on your favorite dress. Meet me at the car by 11.”

I chuckled at the message but decided to follow his set of instructions, nonetheless.

~*~

As promised, Chris drove us to the pumpkin patch further away from where we lived for more privacy and intimate time together. We spent the whole ride discussing last night’s events and catching up on the conversations we were meant to have throughout my week in our house. When he parked the car, he suggested we snap as many couple selfies but made sure to emphasize the idea of him taking pictures of me.

“They’re for my phone.” He lied through his teeth as I raised a brow at his idea.

The truth: Chris yearned to share pictures of me on his Instagram. At least half of his feed consisted of me, Dodger, or nature and rarely ever himself. I worried he would lose followers for never updating them on how he was doing but he dismissed my worries with a kiss to my forehead and a, “It’ll be fine, who cares?”

For a while, we explored the farm with our hands linked and eyes moving about at the pumpkins of all shapes and sizes. It wasn’t until we’d reach the halfway point did I realize we didn’t have an exact clue as to which type of pumpkin we were searching for.

“I was thinking one of those big, tall pumpkins.” Chris answered after I asked him what our goal was.

“The ones that look like an orange squash?”

“Yeah.”

“Why…?”

“I don’t know, I’ve always wanted one.” He shrugged. His face held a gentle look of content.

“Well, if a squash-lookin’ pumpkin is what my big baby wants, then a squash-lookin’ pumpkin is what he shall get.”

Chris released my hand to wrap it around my waist and pull me closer to him. I felt my cheeks heat up as he placed a kiss to the crown of my head. After all this time together, he still managed to have me acting like a schoolgirl that somehow caught the attention of her longtime crush.

“Thank you baby.” He answered. “I know I already said this twice; through the note and in the car. But, I’m truly sorry for how I acted last night and the days before that. I was stupid in bottling everything up and not confiding in you like I normally do. Doesn’t justify any of what I said last night but I figured you had a lot on your plate and didn’t want to bother you with my own.”

I paused my walking to glance up at him with what I hoped was love in my eyes. “Chris, you could never bother me. As a couple, we talk to each other. Even if we’ve got problems of our own at the same time? I want you to come to me and I come to you so we can figure things out.” I stood on my toes to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw due to his towering figure. “I love you and accept your apology.

“I love you too.”

“You better. Because my ass wouldn’t be helping you find that ugly pumpkin to make you happy.”

“Hey!” he pouted before I shut him up with a kiss.

Taglist: @chaneajoyyy @daddyslittlecaptain @tantricevans @liquorlaughslove @nina-skyee @pinkgirlinablueworld @norababora @bakarilennox @rubyy98

#chris evans #chris evans one shot #chris evans x reader #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x woc reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader

390 notes · View notes

lemonsandstrawberries · 3 years

Text

When Zombies Attack

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony), Superfamily (Tony and Steve adopt Peter Parker as their son)

summary: Peter once again has the misfortune to witness one of the awkward moments between his parents.

length: 907

a/n: Sunday is a day for family for me, so have some Superfamily! fic based on this prompt. hope you like it, feedback, reblogs and likes are welcomed and needed!

—————

When Zombies Attack

SQUREEEEEWAAAAAAAA!

Peter jolted his head up, the loud, screeching noise getting to him despise the music blasting in the headphones. That kind of scream could mean only one thing.

His and his dad's project was completed and they successfully recreated a breathing, living pterodactyl.

Feeling a rush of excitement, Peter turned around on the swivel chair, abandoning his biology homework, trying to leap out of his chair, just to be yanked back, when the cord from the headphones held him back. Damn the day he lost yet another pair of Starkpods and his dad refused to gift him new ones. He shook the headphones off and rushed out of his room, following the screeching, eyes shining in excitement of seeing the flying reptile and -

And being painfully let-down when he saw the reality. Scratch that, he definitely didn't want to see that reality. Eye bleach should be a thing.

On the couch were his parents and at the first sight, it looked like Iron Man and Captain America got into a fight and were wrestling. The truth was very different, and Steve, with the widest grin spread across his face, kept reaching hands forward and grabbing at any part of Tony with tickling fingers, Tony letting out a screech each time the move was successful, guarding himself.

"Eh," Peter whined in disappointment, leaning over the door frame, longingly looking at the ceiling and imagining the pterodactyl circling around it. That would be quite a sight.

"Hm?" Steve heard the sigh and briefly turned his head around, shining a grin at the teenager. "Hi, son!" He said, still climbing on Tony and causing Iron Man to squawk and giggle.

"Pete! Get hihihihim off!" Tony squeaked, trapped under his husband and uselessly trying to bat away the attacking hands.

Peter looked back at his parents, some irritation mixing with a fond feeling. He heard Steve teasing Tony about asking their son for help, Tony trying to snark back, but the offensive comment got lost in another wave of laughter Steve proudly caused.

Of course, there was something awfully disturbing about the image he was seeing, but he thought back to his school friends, coming from divorced families, dividing their time between two arguing parents. This was better than arguing. He was lucky his parents were as much in love as they were - well, since he could remember. He didn't know how it was before he came into the picture, but he heard enough stories from uncle Clint and aunt Natasha to know that his parents were always pretty handsy with each other. Even if deep down, seeing his parents in love made him happy, it didn't mean Peter couldn't complain about it.

"You know," Peter said loudly, crossing arms on his chest, "I wish you two would act your age."

Steve laughed loudly, hearing the complaint and Tony laughed too, although from a different reason. "If I acted my age, which is well over one hundred years old, I would be a pile of dust!" And then he gasped, having an idea, and fell limp, like a sack of potatoes, right on Tony who yelped in pain, smothered with his husband's weight.

"OOF! Steve, what the-!" Tony demanded explanations, his whole face heated from the stopped attack and too much laughter. Peter heard his parents talking, hearing the phrases 'one hundred years old' and 'a pile of bones' repeated when Tony sucked in an outraged breath and looked at Peter with faked anger. "You killed your father!"

Oh, Lord...

"Yes, I killed my father," Peter agreed, rolling his eyes, "or worse, he will come back now as a zombie and terrorize us."

That was supposed to be a sarcastic remark to point out the stupidity of the situation. Too bad, Tony and Steve had no problem with sarcasm and fooling around, and soon, very stiffly, Steve lifted himself, looking at his husband.

"Braains," Steve muttered out in a hollow voice.

"There is your brain, leave my brain alone!" Tony giggled and played along, pointing at Peter.

With a snarl, Steve turned around, locking eyes with Peter and limping in his son's direction. "Braaaains..."

"Okay, very funny. Pops, I am not playing with you," Peter said firmly, standing his ground. Steve was limping closer and closer. "Pops, I said, I am not playing, stop it!" Peter tried again, some uncertain note making its way into his voice. Of course, Peter knew it was all a game. But there was something very unsettling in the way, Steve moved closer and closer, muttering in that empty voice, his head crooked to the side, eyes not blinking...

"BRAINS!"

Steve launched forward, Peter screeched, and Tony laughed as he watched his husband attacking their son, holding him trapped in his arms and drilling fingers into Peter's stomach and under the arms, sometimes squeezing at the thighs and knees when Peter tried to kick him.

"POPS! STAHAHAHAP!" Peter tried to wriggle out, but he never before managed to escape Captain America's clutches and today wouldn't be the day either.

"Braaaains!" Steve continued to wallow, looking in all wrong places, not bothered by Peter's screams of protest and ongoing laughter. Or maybe it was part of the zombie tactics, to first tire the victim out and then savor the brain. Tony decided to find out, taking a moment to rest and having absolutely no intention of being involved and saving his son from his zombie husband.

#stony #superfamily #steve rogers #peter parker #tony stark #tony stark is ticklish #peter parker is ticklish #ticklish!peter #ticklish!tony #domestic #domestic fluff #humor #tickle fic #tickling #fanfic #fanfiction #yes i know i am kinda reusing the title #gimme a break i am writing for almost a decade now

97 notes · View notes

jawritter · 3 years

Text

Where The Green Grass Grows

Chapter 2

Summary: Life changes, nothing ever stays the same. With most change comes with some degree of pain, that’s how we grow. Jensen thought he had his whole life planned out, written for him in the bright lights of Hollywood. One failed marriage later, and a lifetime of lessons learned, lead him home to a place he thought he’d left behind him when he was only a teenager. He thought his life was over. He felt like he’d lost everything, but who knew one little trip to the local diner that had just opened up outside of town would turn his whole world upside down. All because he met you. Maybe a little slower pace of life isn’t such a bad idea after all…

Warnings: Language, Angst, mention of past OC character death, mention of grief, dealing with a divorce. Drinking. I think that's about it for this chapter.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 2065

A/N: This fic is completely unbeta’d so all mistakes are mine!!Please do not copy my work! I hope you all enjoy this one! Feedback is golden!

My Masterlist

Become A Patreon

Series Masterlist

“Fuck me,” Jensen mumbled as he rolled onto his back from his stomach and looked up at the ceiling of his childhood bedroom.

His head was pounding, and his stomach was more than a little woozy. He desperately needed to stop drinking so damn much. He was just getting too old to do it anymore like he did when he was in his 20’s, and the hangovers were no joke anymore.

He was thankful that his mom had redecorated his bedroom over the years, and that it was set up as more of a guest room than it was his old bedroom. It helped to not have to face all those memories he had shoved way down, and just pretend it was a holiday or another family gathering where he had to stay over for a while.

He knew his time in Hollywood had come to an end for the foreseeable future because he was still having trouble keeping his emotions in check, and as long as he was doing that drinking had been his go too. It was a natural spiral for him, he was glad in a way the public didn’t have a chance to see just how bad he was. Alex was right about one thing, home had been a good place to hide.

He couldn’t hide from everyone here. That was the only problem. His family could see just how bad of a clusterfuck his life had turned out to be. He knew they knew he was drinking heavily, he saw it in the way his mom looked at him every morning when he finally dragged his back from the dead ass out of his room, and down for breakfast.

A loud rap on the door nearly made him fall out of the bed and with three heavy thuds he was brought back to reality.

Jensen looked up just in time to see his dad come into the room, and sit down in the small chair next to the window before turning the lamp on there. Jensen shielded his eyes from the assaulting light that flooded the room and groaned as he rolled himself over to hide in his covers.

“Morning,” his dad said, crossing his legs as he watched Jensen struggle to adjust to the light and refocus his gaze on his father.

“Morning,” Jensen finally mumbled, sitting up on the side of the bed, and running his hands through his sleep tousled hair.

“Mom’s got breakfast ready downstairs, and some slacks and a dress shirt ironed for you in the laundry room,” Alan said as he watched Jensen get up and stumbled his way towards the connecting bathroom, leaving the door cracked so that he could yell back over his shoulder to the older man sitting in the chair.

“Where are we going?” Jensen yelled before flushing the toilet and making his way to the sink to wash his hands and throw water on his face.

He didn’t like going out in the public eye right now. Someone always recognized him, and always had a damn camera ready.

“It’s Sunday, and as long as you live under this roof with us you know you will have to go to church with us,” Alan said simply as Jensen made his way back to sit on the foot of his bed. “That was the agreement when you moved back in here remember?”

Jensen tried to push down the annoyance that rose up in him surprisingly quickly.

Church? He hadn’t been to church in years. Hell, he didn’t even know after everything that he’d gone through if he even believed there was a God anymore.

Jensen licked his lips, attempting to choose his words carefully. This was his father’s house, and he had agreed to it when he’d moved in, he just didn’t anticipate Sunday coming so damn soon.

“Dad, I don’t know If I’m fit to walk into a church house this morning,” Jensen said, locking eyes with his father, and doing everything he could to convey without saying it out loud that he’d rather do anything than go to a church service.

He wasn’t really, he was doing all he could not to throw up right there in front of his dad.

“Eating will help with that hangover, then you can get a shower before we go, I’m confident you will be just fine.”

Jensen shook his head and let out an annoyed huff. Just like when he was a kid, there was no arguing with him. There was no pleasing him. So he just gave up like he always did. That’s one reason why he didn’t want to come back here. Here he was, a grown-ass man in his 40’s, and his dad was still telling him what to do.

“Jensen, look, I know you don’t want to go, but don’t do it for me, do it for your mom. She was so excited this morning when she got up to make breakfast that you were coming with us. She wants to make a whole day of it. Go out to a little diner just outside of town once it’s over, and just have a family day. Just... give her today.”

His dad stood up and made his way towards the door before turning around to look back at him.

“The only way you're ever going to move on from this son is to pick yourself up and just do it. No matter how much you want to just roll over and give up. If you do that, Danneel wins. Pick yourself up, shake it off, find a pretty girl to go out with to help you get over her, and put the bottle down for Christ stakes. It’s only going to cause you more pain in the long run.”

Jensen watched as his dad excited the room, his mind reeling with what he said to him. He knew he was right, he was never going to move on as long as he let himself wallow in what happened. He had to get past this. He wasn’t the first man to ever go through a divorce, and it wasn’t like it was all sunshine and roses while they were married.

Jensen forced his aching body to its feet and made his way towards the shower to rid himself of the smell of alcohol. They say what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, but right now he didn’t feel so strong.

Five hours later, all the way across town, you had just finished cleaning up from the first lunch rush. Sundays were always a big tip day, and you could really use the money, so you didn’t complain not one bit about the almost constant on your feet that the day was sure to bring.

Most church groups came in all together, which made for large orders, and large tables. Today was not different. As far as you could tell there had already been seven church groups come through, and seeing as it was close to 1:30 pm, it wasn’t anywhere near over for you.

You were just contemplating taking a break before the next wave of customers, but you must have contemplated a minute too long because the dinging chime above the door announced the arrival of more guests.

It was a party of about seven adults and a few children. You could tell that they were all family just by looking at them, so it would probably be an easy table.

“Want me to grab that table?” Jess asked as you through the cloth you were wiping tables with in the bin behind the counter and started to make your way towards the table they had chosen with our pad and pin to start taking their orders.

“Na, It’s not that big of a table, I got it,” you answer her and she nods at you with a smile.

“Y/N, hold up a sec,” she says, running over to you to whisper in your ear. “You see that guy with the black shirt, the one who just took his shades off?”

Your eyes trained over the extremely attractive man with broad shoulders, brown, almost auburn hair, and the most astonishing pair of green eyes that seemed to sparkle even at this distance.

“That guy is Jensen Ackles, have you ever heard of him?” she asked, the smirk growing over her face as your eyes raked over the gorgeous specimen of a man sitting at the table looking at the menu that was already there. You watched him swat at the young girl you assumed was his sister playfully when she leaned over to annoy him.

“No, and right now who he isn’t important, what’s important is the tip I’m gonna get when he’s done.”

“I hear he’s recently divorced,” she said, but you cut her off, and made your way towards the table to take their drink orders, and introduce yourself. You didn’t need to know his history. The guy was way out of your league, and you weren’t an idiot.

“Hi, my name is Y/N, and I’ll be your waitress for this evening,” you announced as you came to a stop at the head of the table next to the oldest man, and the man that you were informed was Jensen Ackles.

Jensen’s eyes met yours and you swore to god for a moment you forgot how to breathe. He was so heartbreakingly handsome up close, and the moment he smiled at you, a swarm of butterflies was turned loose in your belly, and you haven’t felt like that in a very, very long time.

“Can I get you guys started with drinks?” you asked, clearing your throat, and quickly looked down at your pad to hide the blush creeping up in your cheeks.

“I’ll have a Dr. Pepper,” Jensen said, starting the roll call of drinks your way. Once everyone had their drinks, and you had brought their food to the table, you went to hide behind the counter, and try to catch your breath.

Every once in a while you would catch Jensen looking at you, and when he caught you looking back at him he would smile warmly at you, making those butterflies take flight all over again.

“You’re blushing, Y/N,” Jessica said, elbowing you playfully as she followed your gaze.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, and went back to refilling the ketchup bottles in front of you.

“He keeps staring at you ya know, maybe you should go ask him out.”

If looks could kill the look that you were giving her would have done the job. You didn’t have time to respond to her, because the sound of a throat being cleared behind you made you nearly jump out of your skin.

“I’d like to go ahead and pay if that’s okay?” Jensen said, as you turned around and the smirk Jensen gave you nearly made you fall flat on your ass.

The man was insultingly handsome, and he knew it.

“Sure,” Jessica said, turning to the register and giving him his total. His eyes barely left you as he paid for his meal, and you made your way over to start clearing the table they were sitting at.

You thought you had to escape him because you can’t think straight when he’s looking at you for some reason. You should have known better than to think it was over that quickly.

Looking down at the table as you picked up the plates you saw a folded napkin set in the center of what was Jensen’s plate with a note scrawled on the napkin, and a $100.00 bill tucked inside that simply said, “For the prettiest girl in Dallas.”

You turned around just in time to catch his eye as he winked at you, and followed his family out of the door. The look on your face must have been priceless because Jessica came running your way shaking your shoulders to get your attention.

“What is it? Talk to me Y/N!”

You showed her the note wordlessly. Your head was swimming with emotions as she squealed and jumped up and down with excitement next to you.

You were too stunned to do anything but stand there, how the fuck could you have a crush on someone that you had barely even spoken to? How the fuck could he have such a hold on you already?

Forever Tags:

@deandreamernp

@forgetthisbull

@miraclesoflove

@deanwanddamons

@rvgrsbrns

@chevyharvelle

@onethirstyunicorn

@i-love-superhero

@lyss-dw79

@magssteenkamp

@lemondropirwin

@squirrelnotsam

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@defenderrosetyler

@screechingartisancashbailiff

@thecreatiivecorner

@vicmc624

@busy-bee-angel-misska

@justanotherwinchester

@brilovesdeanwinchester

@idksupernatural

@lyarr24

@amandamdiehl

@miraclesoflove

@emoryhemsworth

@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel

@softsebastian

@tatted-trina6

@anaelsbrunette

@hayleeharling

@flamencodiva

@coldmuffinbanditshoe

@dirty-pan-goblin

@itmejado

@supernatural3002

@teresa-67

@thoughts-and-funnies

@hearteyes-j2

@miss-nerd95

@writers-whirlwind

@peaches007

@bobbie3939

@lunarmoon8

Jensen and Dean’s Babes

@pink-sparkly-witch

@msmarvelouswinchester

@akshi8278

@love-jackles-37-blog

@supernatural-bellawinchester

@bobbie3939

Series Tag List:

@that-one-gay-girl

@prettysourabbie

@fanfictionismydeath

@sexyvixen7

@originalsoulcollector

@thevelvetseries

@440mxs-wife

@imaginationisgrowth

@stoneyggirl

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles fanficiton #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles series #jensen x reader #jensen x you #spn fanfinficiton #spn fanfic #spn series #dean winchester #where the green grass grows #x reader inserts

158 notes · View notes

morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Note

Hey! I absolutely love your "the lovers that went wrong" fic - ive been back to reread it several times now because i think its such a good idea and I love the relationship with TK and his mum - if only the show could give us something as good as that! - I was wondering- only if you were interested, could you write something from Carlos' pov with his parents? maybe they can see that TK is more than a friend and they talk to Carlos about him and TK and why he's feeling insecure? if not np :)

thank you so much anon, that’s so sweet of you!! i love this prompt, too - god knows the show probably won’t show us carlos’s pov. it was my pleasure to write it.

a note on the spanish - technically, i do speak spanish but it’s still very much a word in progress, so if any spanish-speakers want to correct me then please do

ao3 | 1.6k | 2.04 spoilers

Carlos can feel TK's eyes burning holes into the side of his head, but he doesn’t look around. He doesn’t want to see the confusion and hurt he knows TK must be feeling - and if that makes him a coward, then so be it. His parents’ gazes are flicking between them, so Carlos distracts his mom by pulling her into a hug, grateful for the brief opportunity to hide his face.

Behind them, his dad is shaking TK’s hand, and Carlos’s entire brain is screaming wrongwrongwrong. This isn’t supposed to be happening. Not like this. Not yet.

He’s not ready.

His mom pulls away and Carlos forces a smile back on his face. They stand in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, Carlos feeling like he’s being scrutinised.

Then, TK speaks. “It was great to meet you, Mr Reyes, Mrs Reyes,” he says, “but I should go. I told my dad I’d meet him and I’ll be late if I don’t leave.”

The lie rolls off his tongue, smoother than Carlos’s had, and Carlos dares a glance over. What he sees is so much worse than he imagined; to any other person, TK looks the picture of innocence, smiling kindly, eyes wide and bright.

But Carlos knows him. He can see the tense set of TK’s shoulders, the way he’s subtly put more distance between them, the hurt hidden deep in his eyes. He feels sick with guilt, but there’s nothing he can do to fix it. Not here.

“I’ll drive you,” he offers, but TK firmly waves him off.

“No,” he says, jaw clenching minutely. “My dad’s place isn’t too far; I can walk.”

“But -”

“It’s fine.”

Their eyes meet, and Carlos is suddenly hit with the force of what he’s done. Everything he’s been so scared of - TK deciding they’re not working, running away, Carlos getting his heart broken - all of that might happen now after all.

And it’ll all be Carlos’s fault.

TK’s hand lands on his shoulder. “I’ll see you around, Carlos,” he mutters, and then he’s gone, striding back the way they came and taking half of Carlos’s heart with him.

“Is everything okay, mijo?” his mom asks, as Carlos keeps staring after TK even though he can’t see him anymore.

Carlos doesn’t have an answer to that - the casual way they parted cut deeper than he’d ever thought possible, and he doesn’t know if it was just TK keeping up the act or his way of hurting Carlos the way he’d been hurt. Carlos wants to believe it’s the first one, but his less charitable side can’t help but wonder.

He can’t tell any of this to his mom, though, so he braces himself and turns back around, smiling. “Yeah, of course,” he says, surprised by how steady his voice is. “What are you guys doing here? I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“Clearly,” his dad remarks, faintly amused, but before Carlos can figure that out, his mom is taking his arm and dragging him along with her.

“I was planning on making my chiles rellenos tonight, but your father forgot the chiles when he went shopping the other day.” She sends a reproachful look behind her, but the effect is offset by her fond smile. “You know they do the best ones here, so out we came. And here you are.”

“Here I am,” Carlos agrees through gritted teeth. He tries to extricate himself from her grip. “Look, mami, I don’t want to keep you. I’ll go, and you can -”

She stops suddenly, planting her hands on her hips. “I don’t see my only son for weeks, and the second we run into him, he wants to escape?” she demands. “No. You’re coming home with us, and you can help me with the food.”

“It’s hardly been weeks, mami,” he says weakly, knowing he’s already lost this argument. When Andrea Reyes makes up her mind, nothing can sway her.

“Psshh, details.” She waves her hand dismissively and takes his arm again, leaving Carlos no choice but to follow her to their car. He directs a wordless plea for help back at his dad, but he just holds his hands up, shaking his head.

“Your mother’s right, you know,” he says. “We barely see you these days. Give us the afternoon, at least.”

Which is how Carlos ends up in his mother’s kitchen, silently helping her prepare chiles rellenos and trying not to wallow in his grief over TK.

He fails miserably - miserable being the operative word.

His mom is being suspiciously silent, and if Carlos had any energy left, he would call her out on it. He knows they’re going to end up having a discussion at some point, but he’s in no mood to provoke it. Easier just to let her initiate it herself.

“That boy at the market,” she starts eventually, far too casually for Carlos’s liking. “What was his name again?”

“TK.”

She hums. “You’ve never mentioned him before.”

He sighs heavily. “We’re friends, mami,” he reminds her wearily, the lie coming easier this time, which is something he really doesn’t want to read in to.

“I never suggested otherwise,” she says. “He seemed nice.”

“He is.”

She sighs, clearly fed up with his reticence, and sets her knife down. “¿Qué pasa, mijo?” she asks, turning to face him.

“Nada, mami, no pasa nada,” he insists, though he’s not entirely sure why he’s still bothering to lie.

“Don’t pull that shit with me, Carlos Reyes,” she says sharply, startling him. “Soy tu madre; te conozco. Now, I’ll ask again - what’s going on?”

He meets her gaze, seeing only warmth and concern there, and it nearly breaks him. “It’s difficult to explain.”

“Try me.”

Carlos bites his lip, deciding how best to break the news to her. He’s still not ready, not really, but he’s made his bed. Time to lie in it.

“I’ve met someone,” he hedges, trusting her to fill in the blank of TK’s name. “I’ve known him for a while, but we’ve only been seeing each other for the last four months.”

There’s a brief silence, then, “Why did you not tell us?” she asks, her tone gentle, not at all accusatory. “Is it not serious?”

He hesitates, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “I don’t know,” he admits, half-whispering. “I don’t… He… I…”

Carlos shakes his head, giving up on speech. He doesn’t protest when his mom reaches up to draw him into an embrace, resting his head on her shoulder.

“I’m scared, mami,” he chokes out, squeezing his eyes shut and letting the tears fall. His mom holds him tight, rubbing comforting circles on his back as he shakes in her arms.

They stay like that for a while, until she moves her hands to his shoulders and eases him away from her. “Why are you scared?” she asks. Her eyes narrow. “He’s not hurting you, is he?”

Carlos recoils at the thought. “No,” he says, the words bursting out of him in a half-shout. “He would never.”

“Then, what is it?”

He hesitates again, the thought of telling her everything suddenly very daunting. She clearly notices, as she reaches around him to push the half-prepared food away. Carlos’s eyes widen at that; his mom never stops cooking once she’s started. She smiles ruefully, then leads him over to the couch, pulling both of them down onto it.

“Tell me.”

And Carlos does. He doesn’t divulge all of their long, complicated history, but he tells her enough for her to understand. He talks about TK’s reluctance to start anything, his own determination to try anyway. He talks about those days after TK got shot, and the solar storm, and that night under the stars when they finally agreed to give them a shot.

He talks about his fears that it’s all just a fantasy, that any day now the rose-tinted glasses are going to come off and TK is going to realise that he’s made a mistake, and Carlos will be left behind again. And he talks about his guilt for even thinking it, the way he wants so badly to believe that this is it.

Because, for him at least, Carlos is fairly sure that it is. He just wishes (hopes) the same is true for TK.

When he’s done talking, he glances hesitantly over at his mom. She’s watching him with a small smile on her face, her hand gently squeezing his knee.

“Oh, Carlos,” she says, shaking her head. “You’re in deep, aren’t you?”

He grimaces and nods. “I’ve ruined it all,” he says. “I hurt him, and now he’s never going to trust me again.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” she admonishes. He frowns up at her, only to meet a spectacular frown of her own. “You’re going to go to him, right now, and explain everything like you’ve just done for me. He’ll listen, and if he doesn’t then clearly he’s not good enough for you.”

“He’s good enough, mami,” he says, cracking a small smile. “I don’t know where he is, though; he was lying when he said he had to meet his dad.”

“Then you’re going to go home and wait,” she says, matter-of-fact. “If half of what you’ve said is true, he’s going to want to talk just as much as you do.”

Carlos doubts that, but he supposes it’s as good a plan as any. He could call TK, but he doesn’t want to rush him. Better to let him decide when he wants to talk to Carlos - Carlos had been the one to hurt him, after all.

He leans into his mom’s side, smiling at her. “Thank you, mami.”

She kisses his temple. “Te quiero, my son. Now, go. If this boy is as good as you say, I’ll never forgive you for letting him go, let alone him.”

Carlos laughs, then gets to his feet and leaves his parents’ house, filled with a sudden determination to fix this.

He doesn’t think he could live with himself if he didn’t at least try.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star spoilers #lone star #carlos reyes #tk strand #tk x carlos #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #userjillian #userkimmy #tuserpaige #anonymous

117 notes · View notes

spaceskam · 3 years

Text

when you come home to me

Summary: Alex comes home for a few days and spends them in Michael’s bed.

Tags: bittersweet fluff, lost decade, implied sexual content

for the @malexremix here's a remix of @tkstrrand ‘s fic If the world was kind, he would stay.

ao3

Monday

Alex took a deep breath, hands squeezing the armrests of the airplane seat.

They’d just landed and he was just waiting for the clearance to get off the plane. Then he’d catch a cab to his dad’s house to pick up his car and he’d get to go home. He was crawling out of his skin with anticipation and nerves. He knew, logically, that he’d be welcomed back. But he always held a sliver of doubt. Alex was always just preparing himself to walk up to Michael’s airstream and find someone else in his bed.

He didn’t have insecurity around Michael’s bisexuality or anything. He wasn’t intimidated by the idea that Michael might choose to be with a woman because it’d be a simpler time while in Roswell. Honestly, anyone would be easier for Michael to date in Roswell. At least they’d be there full time.

Yet, he couldn’t shake his nerves. He’d gone too long without contact this time, he thinks. Three years. So much could happen in three years. Michael could’ve met someone and gotten married and had a kid and it would’ve been a socially acceptable timeline.

God, he really hoped he didn’t have a kid or a spouse.

The entire process of leaving the airport, watching a few of his fellow soldiers have a grand reunion with their family while he walked towards the doors alone, and riding home in a stuffy cab that smelled faintly of weed seemed to pass all too quickly and drag on painfully at the same time. He was as sure it’d taken his entire day as he was sure it’d been 15 minutes and he was about to fall on Michael’s doorsteps without the time to think of what to say.

The first sign things were going to go in his favor, though, was the fact that his dad’s house was empty. Alex knew his father knew when he was coming back to Roswell. Not that he deliberately went out to keep track of that date, but his dad always seemed to know everything that Alex did. Which would make sense considering his current CO was buddy-buddy with Jesse Manes. The fact that he wasn’t there, waiting to make it difficult for him to get to Michael’s, was a godsend.

Alex took a record-breaking run to his room. He grabbed his phone, his charger, a couple more items of clothing, and his keys and he was gone before his dad could even return.

Michael moved between Foster’s Ranch and the junkyard. He didn’t think about what it would mean if he was somewhere else. How would he find him if he wasn’t there?

Fortunately, he didn’t have to dwell on that disaster seeing as Michael’s truck was right where he left it in Sander’s junkyard. He took a breath and climbed out of his car at the same time Michael emerged from the door. He had to lean against the car as he got a good look at him.

He looked practically the same, maybe with a little more facial hair going on, but the shirt and the jeans were more of the same. Alex didn’t have to touch it to know how soft the fabric was from years of use. He didn’t have to feel Michael rub his stubbly cheek on parts of his body to know it’d leave a beard burn rash for a day or two after he left.

He wanted to feel it anyway.

“Alex,” Michael breathed, his eyes going a bit wide and his lips parting like he couldn’t quite believe it. That hurt more than Alex had the words for.

Alex pushed himself off the car and shoved his hands in his pockets, hoping to give his hands something to do while also keeping them to himself until Michael gave him the green light to do otherwise.

“Hey.”

Michael took each step down with his entire body weight, thud, thud, thud, like he didn’t know another way. It had Alex feeling nervous and excited and a billion other things.

“You’re back,” Michael said. Alex tried to smile, but it refused to find his face so he nodded and looked down.

“Temporarily.”

Michael was quiet for a moment, but he never stopped walking closer. He stopped just an arms-length away and Alex’s eyes trailed up him, trying to spot any difference. He didn’t really see any, only a few holes in his jeans that Alex longed to put his fingers through.

“How long?” Michael asked.

“‘Till Thursday,” Alex said, making that arms-length distance more like hands-width. Michael nodded slowly, his eyes betraying his thoughts and feelings. How that wasn’t enough, but he would accept it anyway. A twisted part of Alex basked in the fact that he was wanted at all.

Instinctually, Alex looked around the junkyard for any signs of life. Not that he was foolish enough to think that Sanders didn’t know something. More than once, he’d whistled for Michael like a dog instead of coming close enough to knock which Michael thought was hilarious and only happened “when you’re in my bed, Private, I think he’s got Spidey senses”. It was a little nerve-wracking, but Alex was able to convince himself that that didn’t mean Sanders knew it was him or knew what they were doing. There was reasonable doubt to be had. But. Still.

“Sanders is away, I’m looking after the yard for a while, no one’s around,” Michael whispered. Alex’s eyes drifted back to him and a smile finally found his face at the idea that they were completely alone. That meant he could convince Michael to stay in bed a little later in the morning. That meant he could get him to be a little louder. They could be a bit more comfortable in their own skin.

Michael moved until they were practically chest to chest, nearly stepping on Alex’s toes in the process. He wouldn’t have minded if he did, honestly. Michael reached up to grab his collar, tugging him in until they were nose to nose. He laughed softly, that tense knot of nervousness in his stomach exploding into pure excitement. For all the times he told himself he’d never come back to Roswell, this made it blatantly clear why he kept doing just that.

“Wanna go inside?” Michael murmured, tilting his head just enough to nudge his nose into Alex’s. Alex nodded quickly, feeling young and dumb and giddy for just a moment, and Michael smiled. God, he was beautiful.

Michael’s hand drifted from his collar down to his hand and he led the way into the airstream with Alex hot on his heels.

When the door closed, Alex started to unbutton his jacket. He expected frantic, desperate movement from both of them like usual, but Michael stopped and looked at him up and down for a moment. Alex grinned and slowed just a bit, just to tease. Michael rolled his eyes and leaned forward, his lips brushing Alex’s cheek in an experimental fashion. Something bigger than butterflies‒birds, maybe pterodactyls‒burst in his stomach at the small affection.

“Say ‘honey, I’m home’,” Michael asked against his cheek, voice quiet and unsure. Alex turned his head until they were nose to nose again and shucked off his jacket. It hit the floor and he didn’t give a shit about picking it up to fold it neatly.

Alex hooked his thumb into the hem of Michael’s jeans and tugged him in until they were pressed together from head to toe. He very much wanted to be pressed head to toe without their clothes between them. So he grabbed the belt buckle.

“Honey,” he said, breathy and not as sing-song as he was planning. Michael grinned anyway.

Alex yanked the belt out of the belt loops and Michael started to untuck Alex’s shirt, calloused fingers gliding over his stomach. Alex slowly started backing him further into the airstream towards the little bed that they’d made more happy memories in than Alex would ever tell anyone about. They were theirs. No one was allowed to taint them.

“I’m home.”

“You’ve been gone a while.”

Alex tried not to flinch at the simple statement, instead of letting his fingers trail over Michael’s skin. He had his ear against his heart and the soft, repetitive thud was soothing in more ways than he had the words for.

“I got a promotion, things have been kinda hectic,” Alex said, quiet and clinical in hopes Michael would drop the subject sooner rather than later, “We were traveling a lot.”

Alex managed a glance up at him and met his eyes, silently asking him to drop it if he could. That was an easier said request than done, but still. Michael rewarded him with a hand through his hair.

“Congrats,” Michael said dryly. Alex scooted a little closer, pressing up against his body in hopes that it’d subdue whatever was going on in his head. It was all he could do.

“Tell me about you,” Alex said, desperately changing the subject as he rested his head on Michael’s chest again. His heartbeat was a little louder, a little faster. Alex wanted to soothe that away somehow.

Michael’s arms wrapped around him.

“Isobel got married.”

“To Noah?” Alex asked, a smile tugging at his lips. He didn’t know the guy and he had mixed feelings about Isobel, but Michael loved her and he thought Noah was good for her and therefore Alex felt the same. “That’s great.”

“Mhm,” Michael agreed, craning his head down to search for a kiss. Alex moved to touch his face and deepened the kiss with ease.

This he could do. This he knew would make him relax. It always did. Maybe that was stupid and immature, but it felt good. It was an easy way to see Michael smile, to hear him laugh, to feel his skin turn red with adrenaline and excitement. And Alex knew he was the cause.

He liked being the cause of good things and so far making Michael feel nice was the only thing on that list.

Alex pulled him down into bed with him all over again, a silent promise to add a tally next to that one item on the list.

Tuesday

Alex slept in late for the first time in a long time, allowing himself to wallow in bed even after he knew there was no more going back to sleep.

He rolled and buried his face in the pillow before remembering that he wasn’t alone. A small smile found his face, still hidden away from the world in the comfort of the pillow and he reached out, feeling for Michael. However, the bed was empty and his smile was replaced with a pout. He lifted his head groggily and looked for Michael only to see him watching him from across the trailer.

“Come back to bed,” Alex whined, reaching out for him and forgetting himself for just a moment. He shouldn’t be whining and begging and using grabby hands towards anyone regardless of what they’ve done. Still. He did it. He quickly dropped his hand and evened his face once he remembered.

Michael seemed unphased by the slip-up, a big, warm smile on his face as he leaned against the counter. He was shirtless and had a pair of jeans on that were unbuttoned and hanging loose on his hips. Alex could follow the line of hair across his abdomen down to where it disappeared beneath his jeans. It made him feel warm all over again and he could feel himself forgetting his composure, wanting to just reach out and take.

“I will in a second,” Michael said softly.

Alex scrunched up his nose in distaste which got a huffed laugh out of Michael, but he quickly let it drop and he sat up. He reached across for where his bag was and pulled out a pair of clean boxers to put on and then threw on one of Michael’s shirts on top of it. It wasn’t as warm as the one he was wearing, probably, but it would simply have to do. And it really, really would do.

Michael came closer, finally, and sat beside him with two mix-matched mugs in his pretty hands. He handed one to Alex and adjusted himself to lean against the wall as Alex took a sip. He found himself staring into the cup almost too afraid to take another sip in case this was just something he made up in his head despite the warmth blooming in his gut at the taste.

“What?” Michael asked, taking a sip of what was most definitely coffee from the smell of it.

Alex turned his entire body to look at him, disbelief thrumming through his veins and a smile pulling at his lips.

“Since when do you drink herbal tea?” Alex asked, raising an eyebrow. He had at least one vivid memory of Michael choking and spitting it out when Alex had forced him to take just one sip.

And it turns out he didn’t and all of the disbelief in Alex’s system lit on fire into pure euphoria as Michael said he got it just for him. A small hope and faith that Alex wasn’t just fucking around with his feelings and dropping off the face of the Earth. Not just that, but spending his money on something for Alex. They didn’t really spend money on each other and this wasn’t necessarily expensive, and yet…

“Thank you,” Alex breathed, moving forward to kiss him again. Michael kissed him back and then took the mug from him to place on the counter beside his own. The taste of the coffee on Michael’s tongue definitely clashed with the tea, but Alex craved it.

The shirt he’d put on ended up on the floor and Michael grabbed his knees to pull him into his lap enough to lay him down. Alex felt high on him, on the idea that he bought him tea, on the fact that he wanted him to come back, expected him to come back. He held onto Michael’s back, tugging him in close and almost clawing at his back just to make sure this was real. That he was really here and they were really together if only for a moment in time.

“Ah,” Alex breathed, gripping him tighter as Michael’s teeth dug into the skin of his neck.

They seemed to have the same idea.

Wednesday

One day, when Alex had a house of his own, he was going to have an at-home library.

He didn’t have time for books much anymore, but the idea was still appealing and one day he wanted to have time for books. He wanted his walls to be lined with them, to have a full selection, to have the permanence of them. Michael, however, was already beating him at starting a collection.There wasn’t many in the grand scheme of things, but more than one should have in a living space so small, a stack of textbooks and non-fictional works on the table and a hidden pile shoved beneath the bed.

The whole thing had Alex feeling light and fluffy again despite the fact that Michael was working and Alex had to entertain himself this morning. It was just so cute. Alex took a shower and got dressed and when he got all ready for the day, he found himself staring at the stack. He carefully took the top one and started to thumb through it.

He objectively knew Michael was intelligent. He didn’t care what people said about mechanics, the shit was hard work and took more intelligence than he was sure anyone really knew. Even Alex really only knew how to change a tire. Michael, on the other hand, had built an entire engine.

Still, opening the old textbook to see it was flat-out mechanical engineering in the most clinical way was enough to make Alex feel warm with pride. All the highlights and notes in the margin felt so personal and the loose-leaf paper tucked into the practice problem pages screamed Michael Guerin. He was just so fucking smart. Alex liked him so much.

A few vocabulary words later‒and most notably a lot of notes on how to build a bigger, more powerful engine and an asterisk to remind him to compare to notes in his Rocket Propulsion textbook‒Alex found himself peeking behind the little curtain to see if he could spot Michael. And he did, seeing him wiping his hands as he spoke to a pretty woman who was probably a decade or so older than them. She was very clearly appreciative and Alex couldn’t help but snort a laugh.

Alex went back to the textbook, making himself comfortable in Michael’s bed. He had a secret, personal, debatably gross affinity for the way the blankets began to smell after they’d had sex a few times without washing them. It was gross, but they smelled a little musty and a little like Alex’s body wash and a little like Michael’s skin and a lot like they were a product of the two of them existing as one. He’d enjoyed the smell since the summer after high school when they were resigned to the bed of his truck with his sleeping bags. The idea of it pulsed in his veins.

He brought the blankets to his nose and kept reading.

“You’re dressed,” Michael noted when he came back inside. Alex managed to drop the blanket at the sound of the door opening in a casual motion, trying not to do anything distinctly weird. If Michael noticed he didn’t say anything, instead happily sitting on the bed in all of his sweaty, greasy glory and pulled Alex’s legs into his lap.

Alex glared at him and deeply buried the urge to see what his neck tasted like when he was this messy.

“It was getting cold,” he said simply as he put the book down.

“That’s what the blanket is for.”

“So, I was just meant to wait here for you, naked?” Alex teased, gravitating closer unintentionally. His eyes drifted to that spot on his tan neck, glistening with the heat of the day. A little bit of staring and he realized he left a mark.

Huh. That was a first.

“That was the plan, yeah,” Michael said. He grabbed Alex’s hand and held it tight.

Alex teased him and watched him closely, considering pulling him down and saying screw showers despite the fact that Michael desperately needed one before he put his hands anywhere sacred. Michael, however, noticed the book.

“Engineering,” Alex told him when he asked, “You’ve got lots of notes in here, you building something?”

Alex turned a few pages, that one reminding him to compare notes in his rocket science book unintentionally catching his eye again.

“Just cars,” Michael said, tone of voice a little more tense than it should be.

Alex met his eyes and stared at him. And for the first time in a long time when it came to Michael Guerin, Alex got that weird feeling in his gut that said he wasn’t telling the truth. Which would be ridiculous‒what the hell would there be to lie about?

Instead of letting himself sit with the idea, however, Alex tilted his head back and closed his eyes, shaking it out of his mind. They were having a good week. Alex was being paranoid for no goddamn reason. He rubbed his thumb over the back of Michael’s hand before shifting to lay his head on his shoulder. He didn’t smell like the sheets. He smelled like Michael. And Alex didn’t care that he was probably getting him dirty just by being near him.

“What’d you wanna do?”

“Can we just…” Alex said, breathing out as he considered the fact that Michael did actually have to bathe and that they did need to change the sheets after him sitting on them. He wasn’t quite ready to give up the potency yet. He could only have it for so long. “Can we just sit here for a bit?”

“Of course.”

Without meaning to, Alex dozed off. When he came to, the sheets were changed and smelled fresh, though still of Michael, and Michael was clean and tucked up against him. Alex was reminded by how much he liked clean Michael as well. He couldn’t tell if he liked him dirty or clean more.

It didn’t matter. Alex reached up to press his fingers against the mark that was much more visible when he wasn’t grimy and Michael, unconscious and endlessly sweet, moved closer.

He wondered how hard it would be to get Michael to cover him in marks, little reminders for just a few more days after he left. That was, however, extremely impractical and irresponsible given, well, everything about his job.

So instead he cuddled closer and held him and tried to memorize the way his body felt this close.

Thursday

“Do you remember the movie Cars?”

Alex blinked a few times as he registered the words coming out of Michael’s mouth. He was struggling to stay awake considering they’d spent the entire morning testing out the true meaning of stamina and destroying the concept of a post-coital recuperation period, hours dedicated to whiting out Alex’s mind from the inevitable departure that was coming closer with each passing moment. They were running out of time and Alex was much more content to not think about it or address it.

And Michael apparently wanted to talk about Cars.

“What?” Alex asked, lifting his head. Michael was laying in the opposite direction, his lips swollen and red and his hair a frizzy mess where it laid against Alex’s shin. His feet were on the wall to avoid being on the pillow.

“Cars, like the animated Disney movie?” Michael said.

“I-I mean, yeah, I remember Cars. Just, like, where did that come from?” Alex asked, huffing a laugh. He grabbed one of Michael's ankles and brought it to his chest, just needing to touch him.

“Remember when we watched it in Spanish senior year?” Michael continued. Alex nodded, watching him.

Michael seemed still a little dazed now that Alex’s eyes focused on him more. His fingers were playing with Alex’s leg hair and his eyes were half-lidded and the sun was shining even past the curtains, his tanned skin glowing. Alex had littered his skin in tiny red marks that he couldn’t ask for in return. He looked fucking godlike for a moment. Longer than a moment.

“Yeah, I remember we had a sub and she couldn’t figure out how the subtitles worked so we watched it in Spanish with French subtitles,” Alex said.

“You put your head down and your shirt rode up a little ‘cause of it. I sat there for, like, thirty minutes trying to figure out how to tell you that your shirt rode up and I could see, like, a millimeter of your boxers and an inch of your skin. It was nothing, really, but I remember feeling like it was the most scandalous thing I’d ever seen. And I stared at you the whole class period trying to work up the nerve to say something to you, anything, even if it was just saying I liked your shirt,” Michael rambled, his voice a little muffled against Alex’s leg. That didn’t stop Alex from feeling like his heart was going to jump out of his chest. “Anyway, if you could be in that universe, would you wanna be a living car or a living plane?”

Alex breathed a soft laugh, trying and failing to move past the part where he had just admitted something insanely sweet from a time months before they even really spoke one-on-one for the first time. Clearly, they needed to go at it like that more often. They didn’t tell stories like that. They didn’t talk about things that mattered.

To Alex, that mattered.

“Plane,” Alex whispered, slowly pushing himself to a sitting position and trying not to jostle Michael too much even if it felt awkward. Alex kissed his knee as he slowly took one of his legs back. “I like to fly.”

“You like to fly,” Michael repeated, soft like he was keeping it for himself. Alex smiled and slowly shifted one of his other legs away. Michael pouted adorably about it and Alex slowly made his way up his body.

“Yeah,” Alex said, fingers sliding over his thigh as he placed himself over Michael. The pout faded into something a lot more serene. “I did really well in flight school.”

“You have a pilot’s license?” Michael asked.

“Yeah. Air Force.”

“I’ve looked it up before, not everyone in the Air Force flies planes,” Michael said softly, reaching up to rake his fingers through his hair, “I didn’t know you did.”

“It’s a convenient thing to have and it was offered to us for free. So, you know, if we ever need to fly away, I can handle it,” Alex said. Michael stared at him for a moment. Maybe longer than a moment.

“Okay,” he said, pulling him down for a kiss.

It was languid and slow, the sun bearing down on them and making it hotter in the airstream than it already was from them alone. And Alex reveled in it. He wanted to soak in as much of this feeling in every way.

Because in twelve hours, he would be gone.

His flight was at five. He had to leave Michael by two so he could drop his car off at his dad’s and then he had to call a cab. And that would be it. He would be gone and he wouldn’t know when he would be back.

It was hard, leaving. Alex wanted so many things, all of them so out of reach, and his body ached for it. But he couldn’t have them. It wasn’t about what he wanted and, even though Michael seemed to want it too, Alex knew it was bad for them. It was messy and there were too many other players and it was best they stole this small time and didn’t make it harder than it had to be. They kept it physical and casual because it was what was best.

And yet.

Michael’s hand pressed to the base of his spine, a hot presence holding him close. He touched every inch of skin he could and he kissed him like it was important. Michael kept tea for him and put off work to be here. He hadn’t looked at his well-loved notebooks since Alex got here. His attention was on Alex. All of it. He was wanted here. Alex loved the way that felt.

He loved him.

It was almost torturous how something could be literally in his hands and simultaneously entirely out of reach. The silly game Alex played with himself, letting himself get all excited about going home because he wanted to see him while reminding himself that there was no guarantee that Michael was waiting. There was no promise made. Hell, they barely spoke about things unless they were trivial to make sure they didn’t make things worse.

And he loved him.

Alex didn’t have to ask if Michael was seeing other people when he was gone, he knew he was. He was handsome and smart and hardworking despite what he’d have others believe. He knew one day he’d come home and Michael wouldn’t be open to letting him in his bed. He’d find someone nice, someone cozy, someone safe. Someone who didn’t keep him waiting around. It was only a matter of time. It was stupid to care too much.

But Alex loved him.

They didn’t start another round this time, bodies too fraught and fried and tired to try. Instead, they kissed until the kissing stopped and they just held each other. The sun was shining on them, the clock was ticking, and Michael’s skin was sticking to his with sweat from how hot it was but neither of them was bold enough to move.

And Alex loves him.

Friday

Alex let out a shaky breath as he watched the clock tick to 1:45 AM.

He’d run out of time. Michael was laying on his back, sound asleep with his head leaning towards Alex. It hurt to look at him, but Alex mustered enough courage to touch his face carefully and push his hair back. He kissed his forehead and then his cheek, watching to make sure he didn’t stir, and then slowly got out of the bed that had been so nice to him these last few days.

Alex gathered his things quietly, putting on his shirt and his pants and his shoes. He grabbed his phone and his keys and held them tightly to muffle any excess noise. His heart felt like it was going to melt out of his chest as he looked at him. Apparently, all the touching didn’t help him feel ready to leave at all.

God, it hurt. It hurt so fucking bad.

Alex closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn’t tell Michael when his flight was or when he was leaving out of self-preservation. He didn’t trust himself to leave if Michael was awake. And yet it still felt like the hardest thing.

Beside Alex’s bag was a soft, worn black sweater. The sleeves and the neck were stretched out. It smelled like Michael. Alex found himself pulling it over his head despite it still feeling a little hot in the airstream. He wanted to keep something, just this one thing, just for a little while.

Quickly, to make himself feel less embarrassed about it, he opened one of Michael’s notebooks to leave a note. He had a million things to say. He settled on something simple.

Borrowed your sweater, it was cold hope that’s okay.

I’ll give it back next time I’m home

- AM

He started at it and swallowed, trying to make sure it was enough. Maybe he could smother it in tiny hearts or find something to make a kiss print with or something. Something that would let Michael know that he loved him even though that wasn’t an option. He couldn’t think of anything worthwhile, though, and instead just flipped it over.

I’ll be back, I promise

Alex took another deep breath and looked at Michael again, mentally saying fuck it as he leaned back down to kiss him on the cheek and breathe in the smell of his hair. It was intoxicating. He wanted to crawl back into bed with him. It was so much better than being out there, running special operations because he was talented. That’s what he was told. Talented. We need you, do you really need a vacation right now? You’re important. Your decryption is incredible and needed. Fine. Five days, but then you need to come back. Captain.

Five days.

“I’m going to come home,” Alex murmured, standing up straight. He swallowed the lump in his throat and found a tack in a small cup of screws and other pointy things, sticking the note where Michael would see it.

This wasn’t it. He was going to come back. Maybe Michael would be with someone more permanent by then and maybe this was the last time he’d get to kiss him. And that would be fair and Alex wouldn’t complain.

But maybe not. And maybe he’d have more of him in his future. More talks. More anecdotes about liking Alex.

More. They could have more one day. This wasn’t over.

Alex got in his car and drove.

#malex #malex fic #micahel guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #malexremix2021

54 notes · View notes

nanaosaki3940 · 3 years

Text

Enji Todoroki/Endeavor - The Social Disaster

MHA’s one of the main subplots is the Todoroki family story which we all know it as ‘Keeping Up With The Todorokis’. This subplot is deliciously complicated and the root of these complications is none other than Endeavor or Enji Todoroki himself.

And I’m going to explain why I call him ‘The Social Disaster’.

After failing to surpass All Might, Endeavor started his stupid breeding experiment where he’ll create a child to use it as a weapon to surpass All Might and become the No. 1 hero and the first weapon he created was called Touya Todoroki. At the very beginning of the training sessions with his son, Endeavor filled Touya’s head with dreams of becoming No.1 hero, be greater than All Might, that he was the destined one to carry out his father’s legacy etc. And then one day Endeavor stopped everything and just gave up on Touya, saying – “No, you can’t. You’re worthless, you can’t do this one thing I told you that you’re gonna be able to do your whole life and so you need to just get the fuck out of my face. Stop doing it. Go be an accountant and just give up.”

From birth Touya was told –“You’re gonna be this great thing. You’re gonna be this Hero Hokage.” and then Endeavor’s like – “Oh sorry, you’re not going to be that Hero Hokage.” and we see that Endeavor’s spending the whole time telling his son like - “Go hang out with your friends and go be normal.” And Touya says – “Well, everyone at school wants to be a hero too.” To me, it’s kinda looping back into Deku’s situation in reverse, like where Deku wanted to become a hero but he was quirkless and Touya also wanted to be a hero, but he can’t tolerate his own flames.

And then Endeavor came up with this shitty idea like – “Oh, you know what will make him stop, if you get him a fucking replacement.” which is maybe the worst idea I’ve heard in my whole life of how to resolve a problem like this.

To me, Endeavor has seemingly no understanding of how people work beyond just – “Oh, this is how I solve criminal cases.”

During his engagement with Rei, he looks and talks like such an awkward idiot and I feel like the way he treats Touya and the way he tries to handle his situation, just proves that how bad he is in understanding what he is doing and how his intentions affects reality.

Even though he is a grown-ass adult and he should know, it's interesting to see that there is this sort of consistency because I believe the implication is that it is his social idiocy that also caused him the No. 1 spot that he could never really become the people's man like All Might because he just doesn't know how to be a man of the people like All Might. And this is how it infects all parts of his life.

He's telling Touya to stop out of concern for him like – “You need to stop this because it's just not good for you.”, which is a very sweet sentiment. But at the same time, we get the panel of where he says – “We got to have another kid to make him stop doing it because then he will give up.” And Rei says –“No, we're not going to do that.” And his response is –“No, we gotta do it because he is never gonna be the one to surpass All Might.”

Then they have Natsuo and we see Touya’s reaction to it and it’s obviously that he’s not taking it very well and then we just see Endeavor getting more and more angry and Rei is getting more and more sad and defeated by the whole situation and when they have baby Shoto, the faces of Endeavor, Rei and Touya physically upsets me. We get to see Endeavor looks really excited, Rei's just like –“I’m done, just stop.” And Touya is so devastated because he realizes that this is the one that's gonna be better than him.

Shoto got what they wanted out of him and we see Touya saying like –“I can still do it.” and the end result is just the dad saying like; it's not even like –“Let's do things together other than being heroes.”; it's more like –“You got to give up on being hero, go play with other kids, go to school and get the fuck out of my face. I gotta train this other hero child. I don’t have time for this shit.”

Endeavor has a line of logic within his brain where he's like –“I can’t fix Touya for what I have done to him cannot be undone because I don’t have the capabilities, so I will just move forward and hope that he copes up.”, which is a terrible and stupid idea, but it is nonetheless align of logic within him.

There’s a certain set of values, ideas and goals in him and he follows them through and they were all terrible and reprehensible. But it still shows that there was an internal logic to him that it makes him even more monstrous without taking that terrifying humanity away from him.

Endeavor is just a person who has done terrible things, with an actual logical line of thought behind it even if it is logic that only makes sense to him.

There’re a lot of obvious parallels we can make between Touya and Deku (they’re not subtle about it and it’s kind of in our faces). Well it's just interesting to me that like Endeavor his whole obsession is like –“I gotta be better than All Might.” And then even in situations like this where he has this protégé that he gives all this hopes and dreams to like –“You're gonna be great, you're gonna be a hero, you’re gonna be the greatest.” And then the child has this power that his body cannot handle and he can't do what the dad told him to do, Endeavor is just like –“Well then, you suck kid. Get a new job, idiot.”

On the other hand, even though All Might is far from perfect in a lot of ways of course when it comes to this but it’s the exact same thing but he understands that like having these aspirations and these dreams even in someone so young is so real. And we know that All Might feels bad about what happens to Deku, but at no point does he tell him like –“Okay, give it up kid. You still can’t do it more than 5% without breaking your arm. Give it up idiot. I’m gonna give it to somebody else.” Like at no point does that even cross his mind. Rather All Might tells Deku –“Look, you gotta work to do. You’re not up to that level yet but I’ll help you and I’ll do it with you.”

And that’s true that Touya wanted to be better than All Might which wasn’t realistic but he was also a child and rationality and setting realistic goals comes much later than being a fucking child. But Endeavor was so obsessed with his own shit that it was hard for him to get over his own hang ups and look through Touya’s problems. Touya could easily still be a hero if he accidentally singes his skin a little bit sometimes that’s not even close to the kind of damage that Deku does himself every time he fights anything. So, it’s not unrealistic to be like –“Okay, yeah I’ll help you and we’ll take it slow. We’ll help you get over your power and then when you get to school or whatever, you can get help from the tech department and make you a heat shield or whatever.”

There were many ways that he obviously could’ve worked around it but Endeavor didn’t give a shit about that because that wasn’t his goal. He’s goal wasn’t to nurture Touya rather his goal was to find a way to get past All Might. He didn’t give a shit about trying to take it slow or trying to help Touya to accomplish anything other than what he wanted and once Touya couldn’t do that, he’s like –“Get the fuck out of my face while I train this replacement child.”

Endeavor is a kind of a person who makes every single mistake it could have made, like starting right from the point where he buys a wife to the point where he tortures Shoto during training sessions. Like you all can tell that he almost like wanted to be a parent when he was like –“Oh, I need to protect Touya from his own power.” He vocalizes a sweet sentiment but also he’s the reason Touya is like this and he can’t just run away and that’s why I like what Rei says as well it’s like –“You just keep running away. You keep creating these problems and you just keep running forward to All Might but also you keep running away from what you have done.” And I am so happy with how Rei is characterized like she is so much more spunky and so much more like assertive than I thought. Like she actually talks back to Endeavor and even in the hospital scene, she has like a presence and says –“You know we will do this. You need to get yourself together and we need to atone together, but most of all you because you were a piece of shit.”

And I also like the little thing at the end where Shoto was like –“I talked with Mom before we came here and I told her that I was going to be the one to stop Touya, but no, we’ll stop him altogether.” To me it sounded like it was Rei’s idea where she was like –“No, you can’t let this piece of shit make this your problem.” I mean Endeavor was always running away. He ran away from Touya and all this stuff happened. He was ready to do it again in the hospital, saying that –“I can’t fight him, he’s my son and I can’t do it.” But Rei was like –“No, get up and take some fucking responsibility for your problems.”

And I love that it was Rei the one who came to that conclusion, because even Shoto was ready to be like –“Dad can’t do it. I’m destined to stop my brother.” And she was like –“No, it’s this asshole’s problem. He did this and yeah all of us could have done more but you can’t let him sit in a bed and wallow about being so pathetic. He needs to get up and he needs to solve this.” And there's no better character it could have been to have been the one that came to that conclusion.

And this is what I love about MHA that how sincere it is and what I mean by that is moments like these where it doesn’t really go out of its way to play into any specific tropes when it comes to this abuse storyline and instead just gives you hurt people moving past and making decisions that sounds reasonable. Like the fact that Shoto didn’t just go on the avenger mode but instead talked it over with his mother which usually doesn't happen in shounen manga/anime. When you decide on making a revenge plot in shounen, you just do it. You don’t go and talk to someone important in your life and seek emotional counsel in shounen. So yeah, I love that Horikoshi sensei is giving us mature and realistic contents like these.

Then in chapter 302 we see Rei asks Touya like –“It almost seems like you don’t want to really be a hero, like you don’t seem like you actually care about becoming a hero. It just seems like you’re obsessed and stuck because Endeavor is your dad and you feel like you have a legacy to live up to but he is abandoned you.” And of course Touya’s responses were like –“Fuck you, mom. I fucking hate you.” But she was right. If Endeavor just hadn’t been such a pig headed shit in dealing with the problem, Touya either would have grown up to the point where he realized it was not worth it or if he really wanted to be a hero, Endeavor could have actually helped foster him into one if his entire end goal wasn't dependent on Touya being the best one.

Did Touya need to be the greatest hero ever created?

No.

Because in their last real conversation, before Touya ran off to the mountain and got burned up, he said and acknowledged the fact that he wasn’t as good as Shoto right now, but he said –“One day, I might become great and you’ll be proud of me.” Touya wasn’t even there saying like –“Oh, I’m the greatest thing ever born. Look at my awesome fire. Oops I burned the mountain down.” It was just him being like –“Look, I’m still trying. Look at this cool thing I did. Acknowledge this one thing that I did.” And Endeavor’s only reaction is – “Shut the fuck up, kid. You fucking idiot. How many times I tell you not to do this?”

But when Touya does get burned up, it shows us Endeavor’s face in horror running to the mountain which again is so bizarre. Honestly I’m starting to wonder if we will get an Endeavor back story ‘cause his set of morals and values is so fucked up.

The issue is Endeavor does care, but he just doesn't understand how to care. Like on a base level, he has the positive emotion of caring about Touya’s well-being and that is about where it ends. Endeavor has no comprehension of what that means or how to do that in a good way.

Every idea he thinks of how to fix it is stupid and he's even obsessed with the notion of like –“When Touya uses too much of his fire, he burns himself. So, I guess he has to never ever use his power ever forever from now.” I mean this goes beyond ‘I'm socially awkward around ladies’.

I almost think Endeavor’s previous family was just nothing prior to him and he fucking hated that. This is probably edge dark turn for what they might end up doing but I’m going almost like the Hawks route like –“Dad was a drunk, mom didn’t give a shit and they fought all the time. I was the scared repressed kid, but then at school or whatever it turned out I was actually pretty awesome and I became popular to some extent by both like athletic and corporate events. I was cool for that aspect so I’m used to being around people but I have no understanding of how they work at all.” That’s my assumption.

Even when he keeps trying to apologize to his family it always comes off like –“Yeah, I’m a bad guy and you hate me, so I’m gonna buy you a house that I won’t live in.” I mean, you’re still not really trying are you? You’re just moving the problem ‘cause you just like –“Oh, they’ll just be happy without me. I just suck. I’m just going to go away.” But like, you’re not helping them heal up or whatever. You’re just like ‘I’m going to be nice now’ but that doesn’t make all the horrible shits you did go away.

Endeavor doesn’t have an understanding of how humans work just because of how he is, but now I’m really curious to see if there might be more behind that. I just want to see why he’s so obsessed with All Might, like where that came from.

The character he’s obviously a parallel to is Bakugo and with Bakugo, we do get to see that since his youth Bakugo equated being a hero and the triumph of being a hero with being as good as All Might. That is very light as far as his motivation goes but it’s a motivation nonetheless.

With Endeavor, we’ve only ever gotten as far as like –“He is strong and I’m weaker and that pisses me off.”

It's almost idolization in a different way where we’re like with Bakugo, it’s like –“That’s my goal. I want to be just like All Might.” Whereas with Endeavor, it's like –“That's my goal 'cause I’m pissed off that I’m not the best of the best.”

They both idolized him in similar ways and Bakugo obviously feels more socially adjusted than Endeavor. Even though Bakugo’s a dick, he’s aware of things and is surprisingly emotionally literate. Like the scene where him and Deku get in trouble after they fight in end of season 3, they're like cleaning the house or whatever and Bakugo makes that little reach out of like –“Hey, the fighting style you’re using is messed up for these reasons, so you should try doing this.”

Like that alone is way beyond anything I would ever expect that of Endeavor. Endeavor’s response when they were cleaning the house would have been like –“Don’t worry, I’ll move my room to a different floor, so we won’t have to talk anymore.”

Endeavor’s a fucking weirdo, I swear.

And also Endeavor’s like actual motivations of becoming No.1 hero are almost intentionally omitted from the whole Todoroki family subplot and it’s so uncanny. I’m really hoping that Horikoshi sensei actually does something with that cause I think it feels so shallow compared to how much time we've spent on it now exactly and I feel it’s intentional and we are going to get something more about Endeavor. It feels like one of those gaps that an author leaves specifically so you can question it until it fills you in.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #enji todoroki #bnha endeavour #mha endeavor #shoto todoroki #touya todoroki #toya todoroki #natsuo todoroki #fuyumi todoroki #rei todoroki #mha shouto #dabi #mha dabi

31 notes · View notes