#//all the sass none of the lip bite my b

[loveharlow]

SEVEN - 003

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [5.7k] based on 1x03.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death/grief, creepy older man behavior, pining/unrequited love, assault/mild violence

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ In regards to all published chapters, this one is my favorite.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

YOU PICKED UP THE OBJECT, SLIDING IT TO JOHN B THROUGH THE CRACK IN THE STONE.

“That’s not gold.” Pope spoke despondently with a childish frown.

“Holy shit,” John B spoke, ignoring his friend's sadness. You climbed your way back out of the tomb, dropping next to JJ who helped you dust yourself off as JB continued speaking. “This is from my dad.”

It was a bittersweet moment, hope that maybe this wasn’t all for naught. However, the rev of an engine in the distance made your smiles drop, a golf cart pulling up in the distance. You all began shoving each other out of sight and behind the tomb, panic clearly present.

“John B, your light!”

“Turn your light off.” You all hissed at him, the boy being the only one with his source of light still bright and kicking. From your distance and the lack of daylight, none of you could tell whether it was the square groupers or not, but you all decided to throw all caution to the wind when it looked like the person in the driver’s seat had a gun. 

“Screw this.” Kiara said, getting up and bolting, the rest of you following quickly behind her. You almost knocked one another over trying to jump the fence, everyone making it smoothly besides Pope, who managed to get stuck. By his pants.

In your rush, you all practically ripped the boy off the gate, leaving his pants behind before piling in The Twinkie and speeding off, giggles filling the vehicle. 

“ARE YOU INTENTIONALLY IGNORING THE MOLD ON THAT BREAD?” You questioned, disgust written all over your face as JJ spread peanut butter all over the mold-ridden slice. You were back at the “safety” of The Chateau, waiting for John B to build up the courage to open the package — a large white FedEx envelope, ‘For Bird’ written across it, the nickname his dad had given him. 

“I’ll just pull off the bad parts,” JJ reassured with a shrug, putting the slices together. “Plus, mold is good for you.” You made a sound of disgust before leaving the small kitchen space with the blonde trailing behind you, the two of you stopping behind John B who was seated, looking over his shoulder alongside Kiara and Pope.

Taking a deep breath, he ripped open the package quickly, JJ gagging behind your head after taking a bite of his sandwich, a sass-filled ‘told you’ leaving your lips as your eyes focused on the items John B was pulling out of the parcel.

The first thing was a map — black and white with notes on it. Coordinates, The Lighthouse and The Cut labeled on it, some kind of whirly drawing, and X marked over some area. The next thing was a tape recorder, blue, small and dusty.

John B paused for a moment before pressing play. The mechanism came to life, a static cassette-like sound coming through before a voice was heard.

“...Dear Bird,” The nearly forgotten sound of Big John’s voice filled your ears, just as deep and brassy as you remember, the southern twang in his speech causing a small smile to form. “I hate to say ‘I told you so’ but, I told you so. And you doubted your old man…I suspect at this moment, you’re filled with guilt and self-loathing over our last fight. But don’t kill yourself just yet, kid. I didn’t expect to find The Merchant either.” 

You wondered if you heard that correctly. Big John had actually found The Royal Merchant? Looks were shared amongst the group but nobody said a thing, letting the recording continue.

“You were probably right to call me out. Wasn’t exactly father of the decade. What can I say, kid? I could smell the barn… hopefully we’re listening to this in our brand-new sugar shack down in Costa Rica, livin’ off passive investments and pulling on permits. If not, and you find this for less than optimal reasons, well…that’s what the map is for. There she is, The Wreck of The Merchant. If something happens to me, finish what I started. Go for the gold, kid. I love you, Bird, even if I didn’t always act like it…I’ll see you on the other side.”

And then the tape was ending, leaving you with a million more questions than you all had walked into this with. The house was silent, you all silently anticipating what John B was going to say or do. If he was going to cry or scream.

You sighed when the boy got up, chair scooting harshly across the floor as tears became evident in his waterline as he turned around and practically collapsed against the wall, sobbing. Hugging the structure as he slid down slowly, unable to fully hold himself up.

Kie was the first and only one to walk over to him, laying her head of curls against his shoulder blade in comfort.

“HOW MUCH WAS IT AGAIN?” JJ quizzed, the group of you sitting on the dock outside The Chateau in the middle of the night, nothing visible for miles. Just the stars in the sky and the sound of cicadas.

“Four hundred mil’.” Pope answered, staring out into the distance as he sat on the rail. 

“All right, let’s talk the split.” JJ started. “Now, before you say evenly, may I remind you that I am the only that can properly defend us from those groupers who were after us?” He tried, whirling the gun around his finger. “Protection? Not cheap.”

“You’ve done zero training.” Pope reminded him as you taught Kiara chords on her ukelele and John B sipped mindlessly on a beer, paying no mind to the four of you.

“Youtube, bro!” JJ argued back. “That’s at least a five percent bump right there.” 

All you could do was roll your eyes, Kiara’s strumming ceasing as she turned to Pope. “What’re you gonna do with your share, Pope?”

“...Pay for college in advance.” He nodded his head as he spoke with conviction, staring down at his knees. “And also textbooks. Those are expensive.” You couldn’t help but chuckle. You wondered what Pope was gonna do when he realized that school will come to an end one day. “What about you, Kie?”

“Yeah, what does a socialist do when she’s rich?” JJ poked.

“Just…wanna make a double album.” She shrugged cutely, a small smile playing on her lips. “‘Bout OBX, the pogues. Y’know, the way Catch a Fire is about Kingston. Record it at Marley Studio, Peter Tosh producing…”

You could help but make a face, turning to the girl next to you. “Peter Tosh is-”

“Peter Tosh is dead, I know. The Spirit of Peter Tosh will never die.” She spoke optimistically. “And what about you, huh?” She nudged your shoulder playfully. “Got any big plans for your cut?”

You stared up at the sky, a look of thoughtfulness on your face as you bit the inside of your cheek. “Travel.” You said simply, looking back at the friends around you. “With Marley, of course. Paris, Italy, Thailand, Japan… Oh! Bora Bora…” You spoke dreamingly. “I’d send you all postcards and, like, candy and shit from each place. I’d come back home every now and then, though.”

“You’d take the dog with you?” JJ questioned.

“Um, yes,” you answered like it was the easiest thing in the world. “...Marley and my guitar are the only things I really have left of my dad, everything else is memories and pictures, and I think taking Marley with me would be like taking him too, in a way. He always wanted to travel, anyway. Just never had enough money and too scared of planes. So, I hope the airlines are okay with me booking a first-class seat for a 65 pound Golden Retriever.” You chuckled. 

“I know what I’m gonna do.” JJ shrugged nonchalantly.

“And what’s that, blondie?” You whipped your head towards him, kicking your feet against the wood.

“I’m gonna get a big ass house on Figure Eight and go full Kook. Gonna get a marble statue of myself, and then I’m gonna get a koi pond.” You and Kie couldn’t help but share a look, bursting out into giggles.

“I’m never visiting.” She said through her fit of giggles, JJ simply shrugging at her statement and throwing a piece of grass he'd been rolling into a ball at you. 

“What’re you gonna do, JB?” Pope asked the boy who hadn’t spoken in almost an hour. You all anticipated his response, not even knowing if he would respond.

He simply smiled smally, not making any moves to look at you all. “...To going full Kook.”

IT WAS THE NEXT MORNING AND YOU HAD ALL ALREADY BOARDED THE HMS POGUE, A DAY OF SUNLIGHT NEVER WASTED. JJ whistled, lowering his shades and eyeing the boat coming towards you all and heading in the opposite direction. “You guys see that? That’s the Malibu 24-MXZ, the world's finest wakesetter. Number one in luxury, quality, and performance.” You liked seeing this “nerd” side of JJ — the one who knew heaps of information about bikes and cars and boats. 

“I hate to break it to you guys but that’s Topper and his girlfriend.” Kie spoke nastily, eyeing the couple coming into clear view next to the five of you. The two blondes eyed the group of you down without shame, even behind their blacked out sunglasses you could tell.

Sarah lifted the aforementioned shades from her face, giving you all a distasteful glance, eyes lingering on you and Kie before averting her gaze back in front of her.

“You don’t have to act like you don’t see us, bitch.” Kie spoke, not yelling but loud enough for the couple to hear if they hadn’t sped past you all. 

“Did you see the way Topper was clinging onto her?” You snarled, the statement directed more at Kie than anyone else. “I’d take more pride in the boat than her, if I were him. She’s probably already onto the next guy and he has no idea.” You concluded, sipping on your ice cold beer.

“SWEET LORD, THE INTERNET!” Pope practically cheered as the group of you ran into the study room of the Kook hotel that you were pretty sure you’d just snuck into. He ran to the computer, pulling out the map from John B’s backpack and wasting no time entering them into some website he was using, Earth Search. Lord knows how he found it but it was Pope you were talking about.

“34°57’30” north. 75°55’42” west…” He muttered, fingers going a mile a minute across the keyboard. 

“The continental shelf?” John B queried over the boy’s shoulder. 

“That’s off the deep end…” You pointed out, leaning over Pope’s other shoulder. The website continued zooming in on the destination, footsteps and voices outside of the closed door had all of your hearts pounding as you waited.

“It’s on the high side. That’s only 900 feet.” John B added after it had expanded enough.

“Only?” You questioned, eyeing him with a look that said ‘are you crazy?’.

“C’mon, that’s do-able.” JJ spoke up from behind all three of you. You turned to him with the same expression, standing up slightly from your bent over position and planting a hand on your hip.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Aquaman. Do you plan on guiding us down there?” You retorted.

“Will we be taking your personal submarine?” Pope backed up.

“Ha ha.” The blonde shot back at you both, grimacing. “No, smartasses. The salvage yard has a drone that can drop one-thousand. Three-sixty camera and everything. It’s exactly what we need.”

“Aaand can your dad get his grimy little hands on that?” John B asked.

“My dad’s grimy little hands are what got his ass fired. But the drone’s in the impound yard in the back.” Sly, hopeful smirks were shared amongst you all before you shot up, gathering everything and rushing towards the door, Pope at the end of the line shaking his head.

“Can’t we do anything legal for money?”

“WHY DO WE HAVE TO DO THIS AGAIN?” You asked from the back of the van that had just arrived at the impound lot.

“Because, you’re two hot teenage girls that have the power to entice the middle-aged man at the front gate.” John B told you bluntly. You curled your lip at his statement.

“That wasn’t creepy or mildly perverted at all… Let me out.” You demanded, JJ sliding open the van door to let you as Kie hopped out of the passenger seat. 

The two of you walked the short distance to the truck you’d be driving around the corner to the impound lot, Kie swinging the keys around her finger.

“We got this?”

“Hell yeah.” You smiled, giving your best friend a low high-five and hopping into the vehicle, engine starting as she twisted the key.

It was less than two minutes before you pulled up the gate, spotting the man inside of the booth to the left. You both got out of the truck, waving your hands to gather the man’s attention.

“Hello?” Kie called. “Excuse me?” The man’s attention was diverted from whatever he was reading, your presence prompting him to get up and out of his seat, leaving the tiny building to approach the gate from the other side, a stoic expression on his face.

“Can I help you ladies?”

“Hi,” You flashed a bright smile, shoving your hands in the back pockets of your shorts. “We have a flat tire.” You pouted, not missing the way his eyes roamed your frame for the briefest of moments. “We were wondering if you could help us out?”

The security guard looked around for a moment, as if maybe this was something he wasn’t supposed to be doing before nodding. “Yeah.” A mischievous smirk spread across his face.

“Yeah?” You reiterated cutely as he retreated back into his booth to open the gate. You turned to Kiara with a knowing look on your face, a playful side eye.

“How do you do that?” She asked with a small chuckle. You simply shrugged. 

“It’s all in the eyes.” You taunted, watching as the man returned. Leading him to the back of the truck, Kiara gave the guys, who’d been hiding, the signal to go.

“It’s this back one. Must’ve been a leak or something.” You gathered the older man’s attention, attempting to keep it on the truck for as long as possible.

“Probably just been sitting in the yard too long?”

“Yeah…” Kie cutely replied. 

“I got this.” The guard replied, trying to seem all macho and manly. You watched as the three boys slipped their way into the gate. It was silent for a few moments as he worked on the tire and you and Kie tried to keep a non-suspicious look out.

Minutes passed before a dog’s bark was heard, loud and incessant. The security guard paused in his movements.

“You hear that?”

“Hear what?” You and Kiara said simultaneously, trying your best to act unbothered.

“Tebow’s got something…” He pondered aloud. 

“Y’know how dogs are,” You scoffed with an awkward smile, trying to dismiss his concern. “He’s probably... terrorizing a squirrel or somethin’.” You offered.

“...Yeah, yeah.” It seemed to be a good enough answer as the man got back to working on the car. Suddenly, Kie was discreetly leaving your side and going to the other side of the truck, you questioned what she was up to before you heard the low hiss of air leaving a tire.

The guard must’ve heard it, too, his movements ceasing again before looking up. “Hey, where’d your friend go?”

“She, uh, had to pee really quick.” You tried to dismiss his concern carelessly.

“...There’s no bathroom out here.” He spoke, standing up to his full height now, equipment in hand. 

“Y’know, how it is,” You chuckled nervously under your breath , shoulders square as you became visibly tense and tried to side-step and block his path. “When a girl’s gotta go…”

He didn’t say anything back, quickly walking past you in wide strides to the other side of the truck, catching Kiara releasing air from another tire. “What’re you doing?!” She stuttered to find words before the man was dropping the equipment and running into the impound lot.

Your hands gripped your hair. “Shit.” You cursed, scurrying to get back into the truck with Kie. There was nothing you could do to aid the boys now. You could only hope they had enough time to grab the gear and go as you and Kie sped off.

AFTER REUNITING WITH GUYS, who had successfully stolen the drone, Kie offered to feed everyone down at The Wreck. The sun had gone and it was nightfall, the diner lit up dimly by the time you’d all arrived in The Twinkie.

“What I would do with a beer and shrimp 'n grits right now…” JJ longed, hopping out of the door.

“Amen.” You agreed. “The crimes I would commit for a single fry right now are horrendous.” None of you anticipated how hungry stealing drones, flirting with creeps, and running from dogs would make you. 

Upon entering The Wreck, you were met with shadowy lights and a few leaving guests, the restaurant close to its closing time. The boys ventured off into the seating area while you and Kie stuck around to greet her father. 

“Hey, Mr. C.” You smiled, greeting the older man with a hug. 

“Heyy, kid. It’s been a while. It’s good to see you smilin’.” He greeted back enthusiastically, patting a fatherly hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey, dad.” The girl hugged her father. “How’d we do?”

The older man sighed, shaking his head and drawing his lips into a thin line. “Didn’t turn it over once.” You and Kie shared a look of pity for him, small frowns on each of your faces.

“It’s probably just bad luck because of the storm.” The brown-haired girl tried to reassure her father. 

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to tell the banks that.” He grimaced.

“Guess now is not the best time to ask for free food for me and my friends?” She attempted sheepishly, peering back at the three boys eyeing the food like shelter dogs. 

Her father’s demeanor did a complete one-eighty. “Look at them,” He started, eyeing the trio of boys with disgust. “They’re greedy pelicans. I told you to stop hanging out with them.” He told his daughter, eyes drifting to you. “The both of you...” He added.

You hated the way Mr. C spoke of the guys. They were your best friends and he, himself, used to live on The Cut. He talked about them like a purebred Kook, like someone who has never known poverty. Sometimes, you thought he held a grudge against you for bringing Kiara into your friend group with them. But you’ve known her just as long as them. 

“Everybody at the Kook academy hates us, Dad.” She protested, shifting her weight and rolling her eyes.

“‘Cause you never gave them a chance.”

“We did give them a chance.” She argued back for the both of you, knowing you weren’t likely to step in against her own father. “They got all stuck up on us. They care more about shoes and coke than anything else, I mean, what’re we supposed to do with that?”. All the man could do was sigh, Kiara looking back and JJ, John B, and Pope pitifully. “Those are our friends.”

“Look…I gotta throw it out anyway, might as well take it.” He caved. Bright smiles broke out on both of your faces, the two of you encasing the man in a bear hug before releasing him and turning back to the three boys who were patiently waiting.

“Sit down.” Kie said, the guys cheering and pulling out seats. It wasn’t long before Mr. C brought the food out — french fries, crab legs, soda, chips.

The guys ate like they’d never eaten before. Maybe they really were hungry pelicans.

The Wreck had closed by the time you guys started eating though, allowing you to play music on the eatery speakers while you ate.

At some point Kie, who’d been dancing by herself, invited John B to get up and dance with her, the brunette accepting the invite. However, one absentminded glance to your left had you watching Pope, who was watching them. He looked sad.

You never thought about that — Pope having a thing for Kie. You couldn’t really picture that in your head but you still felt bad.

In a group of three guys and two girls, someone is bound to catch feelings for someone. 

Breaking your gaze on Pope, you looked around to find JJ staring at you. You flashed him a smile and tossed a fry at him to which he caught in his mouth, you both bursting out with laughter.

THE FIVE OF YOU WASTED NO DAYLIGHT THE NEXT MORNING, testing out the gear the second the sun reached its peak. Kie and JB were under the water helping to test out the quality of the camera, both of their faces seen on the pixelated screen.

“God bless geeks, Pope. Truly.” JJ spoke over the boy's shoulder. You were sitting on the wooden railing, legs swinging and adorned in nothing but your bikini. “What would we do without you to control the drones?”

“Technically, it’s not a drone, it’s an ROV-”

“Shut up. Shut. Up. It’s too early for that right now.” You chuckled under your breath at JJ's dismissal, you wondered if JJ and Pope ever got tired of bickering. They were like brothers or an old married couple, either or. Just then, the pair in the water came up for air, John B shaking the water from his hair and being the first to speak.

“Hey, once we get footage of the wreck, we’ll bring it to a lawyer in town and file a formal claim.” He threw out. “We can go through your mom.” He directed the statement at you.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, even if they were squinted from the sun beaming in them. “I wouldn’t trust my mom to help us. It’s like she’s been in cahoots with Shoupe ever since we moved to Figure Eight and everyone knows he really works for Ward.”

“Why would we have to do all of that anyway?” JJ asked the boy in the water.

“There is a maritime salvage law.” Pope cut in. “You can’t just go to the ocean floor and scoop a bunch of stuff up.” You’d been examining the equipment while they talked amongst themselves. Noticing something before speaking up.

“The tether on the ROV is really long. In the wrong kind of weather, it could get pushed around.” You said, turning to face them. “We should go at dead calm. It’s our best option.” 

“And today is not that day.” Pope said, eyeing the sky that was turning a dangerous shade of gray in the distance, a storm brewing. 

“YOU THREE GET THESE GROCERIES TO FIGURE EIGHT. GET STRAIGHT BACK HERE WHEN YOU DONE.” Heyward told you, JJ, and Pope. “I promised delivery by this afternoon.”

He handed JJ the last of the groceries, the blonde piling them onto the platform in the middle of the boat before Pope got the engine going. Heyward’s boat moved faster than the HMS Pogue, you were on Figure Eight territory within minutes, the boys eyeing the properties and estates like puppies.

“It doesn’t even look like the storm hit here…” Pope said, astounded, staring down one of the bigger houses. He had a point, the house looked like the storm purposely moved out of its way.

“It’s ‘cause they got generators, bro.” JJ began, his disdain for Kooks peeking through in his tone. “And then they say the juice will be out all summer at The Cut.”

“It must be nice to be a Kook.”

“Lucky bastards.” JJ shook his head, you simply ignored them. They weren’t wrong and technically, you were now a Kook yourself so you had nothing to add.

Financially, you were a Kook. But you’d always be a pogue at heart. 

“Isn’t that your place?” Pope pointed out, speaking to you. Your house was coming into view up ahead.

JJ whistled at it — the exterior was polished, the yard was kept, the trees were trimmed, no weeds or overgrown plants obstructing the view of the home. Your house wasn’t as old as most on Figure Eight, it has only just been built when your mom bought it a few months back. You could even see Marley running a muck in the yard from the boat.

“Look at that beauty. Must be nice going home to that every night, huh?” JJ poked.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the blonde. “You’d be surprised.”

YOU WERE ON YOUR LAST DELIVERY OF THE DAY,  the three of you had split up to get the last of the orders done quicker. You and JJ had completed yours but Pope had to go through the golfing trail behind the Country Club, so you’d figured he hadn’t finished yet and you both decided to go after him.

“You can’t seriously tell me that you don’t like living on this side of the island.” JJ kept nagging about how much life had changed for you. You wished he would drop it.

“It’s not Figure Eight that I hate, JJ. It’s the people. I don’t know them and they’re all assholes.” You started, walking alongside the blonde, watching the Country Club members golf. “I’d feel safer taking a walk on The Cut at night than I would here. Might get jumped by some coked up college kids.”

“Meh.” He started. “I wouldn’t let that happen. And if it did, y’know we’d find those guys and kill ‘em. Rocky Balboa style.” He joked, throwing air punches and making sounds that made you laugh. 

“What the hell?”

You heard someone exclaim in the distance, you and JJ sharing a look as your laughter died and you slowed in your steps. The voice sounded eerily like Pope.

“You owe me for that!”

The pair of you started sprinting, arriving just in time to catch Topper swing Pope to the ground after snatching the beers he was supposed to be delivering out of his hands. Pope was shoeless and his hat had come off, sand and blood littering his face.

“What the fuck?” You yelled, not even taking into account Rafe’s presence at the moment. 

“Hey, hey!” JJ shouted, running over to Topper and snatching him up by his collar. You didn’t know what was happening, all you know was that all of a sudden, Pope was charging at Rafe who was quick to whack him in the stomach with his golf club before hitting him over the back with it.

The sound of metal hitting his spine caused you to flinch. “Stay down, bitch!” Rafe screamed. You stood frozen in place, a fear you’ve never felt before. But you knew why. You were hoping, praying, pleading that he wouldn’t notice you were standing there. That he’d be too caught up in his own rage to see you.

Topper had managed to push JJ off of him in an effort to calm Rafe. You took the opportunity, with Rafe’s eyes on Topper, to try and aid your beaten friend. You kneeled next to him as JJ stood angrily off to the side, probably making sure Rafe wouldn’t try to pull anything else. 

“Pope…” You muttered, voice laced with concern as you examined his face — blood between his teeth and sand in his eyes.

Your hair was shielding your face slightly from Rafe’s view, you were sure. “Hey, no, don’t help him,” He started, raving and ranting. “I said don’t fucking help him!”

Breaking past Topper’s defense, the man stomped toward you before kicking you over, a grunt falling from your lips. With you now laying in the sand on your back, clutching your side in pain, he could see your face clearly with your hair splayed around you, no longer obstructing his view.

“Leave them alone!” JJ tried, but Rafe was quick to swing the club in his direction as Topper stood anxiously behind him, but his eyes were still on you. You hadn’t seen him in months, the same goes for him to you. All he did was chuckle, a laugh with no amusement behind it as he crouched down above you. 

Even while you were in pain, you managed to glare at him, a mean snarl on your lips as you tried to control your breathing but every intake of air hurt. “Where you been hidin’, sunshine?” He spoke softly but so menacingly. When his finger trailed across your bottom lip, you used whatever energy you had left to bite down on the digit. Hard. “Ah- fuck! You stupid bitch! I’ll-” He lifted the club up, preparing to slam it back down until Topper gripped his shoulder.

“They got it, man! Let’s just go.” He urged, Rafe eyeing your figure on the ground, breathing heavily like a bull. His eyes then scanned JJ and Pope before he spoke.

“We don’t want you over here, you got that?” He warned angrily, eyes landing on you once more. “Any of you.” That was all he wrote before Topper was pulling him away from the scene, the two boys disappearing. 

Your mind was racing a mile a minute, probably faster. You rolled over, ignoring the searing pain in your side as you pushed yourself up. You felt a hand on your arm , trying to help you but for some reason...it just made you angry.

“I got it.” You strained out.

“Let me help you-” JJ tried.

“I don't need your help, JJ!” Then his hand was reluctantly leaving your arm and offering it to Pope who brushed him off in a less aggressive manner as you stood to your full height, a slight limp as you began walking away.

The walk back to the boat was silent — suffocatingly so. Nobody said anything when you boarded, or when Pope got the engine running, or when you passed all the houses on Figure Eight. 

You didn’t expect JJ to sit next to you, especially after yelling at him. “Listen, I don’t know what happened out there, alright? And maybe you’ll tell me or maybe you won’t but I mean seriously, are you guys just gonna let them get away with that?” He scoffed angrily.

“What’re we supposed to do?” Pope shot back.

“I don’t know, something, man! Anything!”

“...Turn the boat around.” You spoke up from where you were sitting, an idea sparking in your rage-filled mind.

“AND WHY NOT RAFE’S BOAT?” JJ spoke up from your place across the water, eyeing down Topper’s brand-new boat.

“Because,” You started, stripping down to your bikini. “Rafe doesn’t have boats. They all belong to Ward. This? This is Topper’s personal possession. So, we go for him.”

The answer seemed satisfactory enough for the blonde as Pope also took off his shirt. “They hit us, we hit them.” He said before turning to you specifically. “I know you’re a swimmer-slash-diver and all but I don’t think you should be swimming in your...condition.” He warned, eyeing the large bruise blooming along your side.

“I’ll be fine.” Was the last thing you said before jumping into the water, Pope splashing in close behind you. You both swam your way over to the speed-boat, jumping onto it. It took seconds for Pope to release the seal that kept the boat from sinking, water bubbling into the base of the wakesetter as you threw your fist against the windshield, effectively cracking the glass.

The pair of you dove back into the water, making your way back to a bandana and sunglasses clad JJ who was waiting. Climbing back on to the boat, Pope handed JJ the plug to which he chucked farther into the ocean.

“You can’t tell anyone.” Pope spoke breathlessly, watering dripping down his frame.

“I won’t, dude-” JJ assured

“No, not anyone. Not Kie, not John B, nobody, got it?”

“Got it.”

NIGHT HAD FALLEN ONCE AGAIN. It was like it never ended as of recently. You were all back at The Chateau, the events of earlier still fresh on your mind and the ache in your side still throbbing to remind you.

“You really think it’s out there?” Pope asked JB. The boy simply shrugged in response.

“My father thought it was.” 

“...But do you?” Pope reiterated. The sound of crickets and cicadas filled the silence as you all waited for him to answer, thunder rumbling in the distance.

“After hearing his voice on that tape? I think I do.”

 “We’re gonna find it.” Kie reassured.

JJ yawned, stretching on the hammock you two were sharing with Kie as Pope and JB shared the other. You and JJ were squished on one end with her on the other. “I’m gonna dream about shipwrecks.” He spoke through his exhaustion, his arm somehow landing behind your neck and curling it towards him, effectively shoving your face into his neck. “And I’m taking this one with me.”

“JJ!” You muttered against his skin as they all laughed. "Let go of me, Maybank!" Your muffled voice came through as you struggled to push the blonde away.

“Shh, just let it happen.”

IT WAS THE NEXT MORNING AND YOU WERE STILL HALF-SLEEP BY THE TIME YOU’D BOARDED THE BOAT. John B wanted to get a head start on this whole ‘X marks the spot’ thing and you’d reached the spot where the Royal Merchant was allegedly sunk by noon. 

“Alright, ladies and gentleman,” The brunette spoke, far too chipper for how early it was. “To going full Kook!” He cheered as he and Kiara lowered the ROV into the water slowly. They fed the cord down inch by inch, monitoring everything and JJ steered the boat.

“Alright, JJ we’re right over it!” JB called out. “Ten seconds northwest!”

“Ten seconds northwest, got it.”

You were leaning against the side of the boat, watching the screen with Pope as you struggled to keep your eyes open. The morning breeze hit you every now and then, in nothing but your bathing suit and a large shirt, a lazy attempt to avoid questions about what happened to your side until you could come up with an excuse that your friends would believe.

When Kie was about 400 feet of rope deep, thunder rumbled in the sky, causing your eyes to examine the ocean. “The tide’s turning.” You warned tiredly, perking up slightly at the change of events. John B directed JJ to change the direction of the boat, over and over again until they got it right.

The storm was getting scarily close, so close you could see it building in the distance. It suddenly got strong, pushing the boat back by at least a couple of feet. It became a frantic fight against the storm, with Kiara warning John B that they may lose the ROV and John B instructing JJ on how to navigate the boat while you and Pope kept an eye on the visuals.

Kiara was at 950 feet and you and Pope still couldn’t see anything, even when JJ managed to steady the boat once again.

“Okay, we’re on the floor.” You announced, signaling to Kie that she could stop feeding the rope. 

“You should be seeing something-”

…

“You see anything?!” JJ called from behind the wheel, the four of you staring at the screen in disbelief and relief.

“It’s The Royal Merchant.” John B said as you all watched the ship come into view, clear as day.

next chapter >

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

SVN Taglist; (let me know if you'd like to be added!) @esquivelbianca @fallingwallsh @calmoistorm @i-love-ptv @liability28 @rivaiken (striked means i'm unable to tag you!)

©loveharlow.

[forever-rogue]

I got a whole 4 hours of sleep today and have to pull a 12 hour shift. So I apologize if it doesn’t make sense, I am new to the Bucky fandom!

I like the idea of his grumpy, refusing to let anyone in, be slowly ground down by reader, but teeters back and forth until reader is in some sort of trouble. Then the flood gates of vulnerability open because he was worried about them. I mean he hasn’t been with anyone since the 40s right? Would he still know how to navigate caring about someone in that way? I don’t know. It was something that has been buzzing around in my head for a week.

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: langauge, vague description of sex (minors dni!)

BUCKY MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

You’d started out as neighbors - nothing more and nothing less. 

Neighbors turned into causal acquaintances, fueled by your constant baking and copious amounts of goodies. Casual acquaintances turned into friends that would spend an occasional evening watching television together. Friends quickly turned into best friends that became utterly inseparable....with the occasional hook-up. You were hesitant to call it friends with benefits because that just sounded so crass. It was more like best friends with the occasional stress relief.

Stress relief. Sure that worked.

None that you wouldn’t have minded more of course. But you weren’t about to make a move on James Buchanan Barnes and ask him out on a date. No, you knew your place and his. He was physically akin to a god, mixed in with a bit of fuck boy, and yet...you loved him. You’d fallen hard and fast for the man that had gone from a mere stranger to a welcome and comfortable part of your life. But you’d never tell him that. 

No, nope, hell no. Bucky surely didn’t reciprocate your feelings and you’d never been the type to make a move first. 

Besides that...Bucky didn’t exactly strike you as a relationship type of guy. You’d seen him here and there with a girl or two, but it wasn’t anything serious. And since the two of you had started hooking up, you’d never noticed anyone else. And you hadn’t been with anyone else either. It was akin to a non-exclusive exclusive not-really-a-relationship relationship. Neither of you pushed it any further - you both accepted dates here and there but they never amounted to anything. Wonder why?

Unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t that Bucky didn’t want a relationship - he did. He did very much with you. But he just...there was something about being a one hundred and six year-old man that just left him confused and worried. He hadn’t exactly had the opportunity to date much and now that he had the time it reminded him of just how different things were. Dating was this weird confused jumble, but you were a clear and obvious bright spot. He had his doubts that you’d ever want anything more from him. He knew what he was - a mostly stable old man with a body that people seemed to enjoy. He made the most of that - it didn’t seem like people were interested in getting to know him much these days. 

But you did - you always did. And, gods, he’d fallen hard for you - the kind of love that makes your stomach churn and heart feel like bursting and steals your breath away no matter how long it’s been. But what the fuck would you want with him? He’s a fossil with a boatload of mental trauma and even more sass and attitude.

You deserved the world and he only had himself to give. Of course, he was enough - way more than enough - but he didn't believe that. 

There had been numerous occasions when you'd tried to be honest, to confess your true feelings, but you'd always managed to fall short. Every time you got close, something came up. And after the last girl you'd seen him with, you vowed to take your secret to the grave. 

You had come close though - so close - especially the last time you'd hooked up.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were under Bucky, both of you naked and panting as you quickly approached your highs. He was buried deep inside you, head dropped to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, nipping and biting at the delicate skin. 

Your legs were wrapped around his waist in order to hold him close. One of your hands was laced together with his while the other was wrapped around his neck. There was something so perfectly harmonious about how you always were together. 

His name fell from your lips like a prayer, James, James, James as he kept going. It was the only time you called him anything but Bucky. As your vision had grown hazy and you felt that familiar warm start to blood your veins, you’d let your true feelings slip. It was so easy, so effortless and in the moment it just...happened.

I love you. 

The declaration hung in the air as you felt your walls clamp around him and he reached his own eyes. That’s when you’d realized what you’d done. This time it was an entirely different sensation radiating throughout your bones - terror. Utter terror.

But if Bucky had heard your three little words he made no mention of them. Relief washed over you as you came to the conclusion that he was just as wrapped up in his own blissful haze that he simply hadn’t heard you. You were safe this time - but you’d have to be extra cautious from here on out.

Oh, but Bucky had heard you. Loudly and clearly. He chose to ignore your words because he was positive that he hadn’t heard you incorrectly. Surely you hadn’t meant to say that - and more importantly, it was a mistake. As much as he loved hearing those words from your pretty lips, he knew it was either an accident or a figment of his imagination. 

You both pretended that nothing had happened. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Bucky rolled his eyes lightly as he watched his phone light up with a call from Sam. He was half tempted to ignore it but decided to answer anyway; he was bored and the call might lead to something to do. You’d normally be hanging out with him on a Friday night, but his calls and texts had gone unanswered.

“Hey man,” Bucky picked up the call and walked into the kitchen to grab a beer, “what’s up?”

“You need to get to the hospital,” Sam was speaking so quickly that it all came out in a single slew of words as Bucky’s brows knitted together.

“I know I don’t have a lot going on this Friday night, but I think I’m okay,” he snorted as he opened the bottle and took a swig.

“No, no, no,” Sam interrupted by almost whispering your name, “there’s been an accident. She was hurt and taken to the ER. I was on the phone with her when it happened - just come. Now.”

Bucky didn’t even wait for Sam to finish before he dropped the beer and ran out the door. His whole body felt like it was growing numb and the only thing on his mind was you. You couldn't be hurt...you just couldn’t. Bucky couldn’t imagine any sort of reality in which you weren’t there. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

As soon as he ran into the hospital, seeking out the emergency room, he was asking about you. He looked probably just as crazy as he felt as he was nervously directed to your room. He almost jogged down the hall and into your small space. Sam stood at the end of your bed, looking down at you with a concerned expression.

“What the hell happened?” Bucky could barely bring himself to look at you as you laid on the small bed, looking so helpless and fragile. You were sleeping, sedated from lots of heavy drugs, but hooked up to several beeping machines. Your arm was in a cast already, bruises and contusions and cuts littered every bit of your skin that he could see. His heart plummeted into his stomach. 

“She was crossing the street and got hit by a car that didn’t slow down enough in time,” Sam’s heavy was heavy as he rubbed at his tired, “I heard it all happen, Buck. It was terrible - but she’s strong. She’s going to be okay. No internal damage, luckily, but she’s going to be in a lot of pain for a while. The arm’s broken.”

“Jesus,” Bucky sighed as Sam nodded.

“I called her parents and they’ll be here soon. She’s just sleeping but hopefully will wake up soon.”

“Okay,” Bucky took a hesitant step closer.

“She asked for you,” Sam hadn’t been sure if he should have confessed that little part or not, “when they were bringing her in. Kept repeating your name. You should just tell her, you know. She’s obvious she feels the same. Don’t be idiots.”

“Thanks,” Bucky rolled his eyes dramatically as the two men shared a quick laugh before Sam hugged him, “I’ll stay here if you want to go. You’ve done a lot already. Thank you for calling me.”

“I got you man,” Sam gave him a half smile, “call me if you need anything at all...or if anything happens.”

“Goodbye.”

As soon as his friend left, Bucky came over to you, his fingers grazing the side of the small, horrid looking bed. He was going to help you however you needed it for however long it would take till you were better and out of pain. If he had the choice, he wouldn’t ever leave your side again.

This whole time he’d been so dumb, so silly. He should have just told you how he left - a long time ago and gotten over himself. A heavy sigh escaped him as you pulled up the uncomfortable plastic chair and took a seat next to you.

He gently, ever so delicately reached for the hand that was in the cast and held it in his. It almost made him laugh with how much smaller your hand was than his. They fit perfectly together.

He watched the steady rise and fall of your chest as you slept, wondering when you’d wake up. He hoped soon - so he could finally tell you all of those unspoken words. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“James?” a croaky, dry voice met his ears as his tired eyes snapped open. He blinked a few times to adjust his vision before focusing on you. You were looking back at him with a tired, sleepy little smile on your features. You looked beautiful, so damn beautiful, despite the blues and purples painting your skin, “what are you doing here?”

He must have fallen asleep at some point during the night. He was still holding your hand. He beamed back at you, “hi pretty girl. Sam called me and told me what happened. I came right over.”

“I’m anything but pretty right now,” you laughed lightly but quickly grimaced at the pain, “how long have you been here?”

“Since yesterday evening,” he confessed quickly, “I didn’t want to leave - wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh Bucky,” there was that saccharine little smile on your face. The same one he loved so much, “you didn’t have to. I...I really fucked up movie night, huh?”

“I’m in love with you.”

He finally got those damn words out before he could change his mind or think too much about it. Your face immediately lit up with a grin as you searched his cerulean eyes. 

“Do you mean it?” you asked softly as he nodded, feeling a blush creep into his cheeks.

“Of course.”

“I love you too, Bucky,” you replied, giving his hand a tight squeeze, “I’m in love with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” he whispered as he leaned closer to you, “because I’m not going anywhere, pretty girl. Not now, not ever.”

“I don’t want you to, Bucky,” you promised, “I want you with me always.”

“That sounds perfect to me.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Marvel Taglist (add yourself to a taglist here!)(strike-through means I couldn’t tag you)

@qhbr2013  @greeneyedblondie44  @april-showers-and-flowers  @softboiipascal @im-an-adult-ish  @patzammit  @niki-xie  @xxlovingfandomsxx  @startrekkingaroundasgard  @welcometothepedroverse  @actual-spawn-of-satan  @punkerthanpascal  @lazybeeches @someday-when-you-leave-me @justgivemethekeys @salome-c @rosiefridayrogersunday  @neptunesglow  @artsymaddie @haildoodles @amneris21 @star017 @irepostthingsiwanttoseelater @its–fandom–darling @ayamenimthiriel @alyispunk @djarinbarnes @edencherries @ashamed23 @sunsetskywalkerr  @nikkixostan @spookispunk @cable-kenobi @hrtsgetbrkn @ironicfoxes @iilwjbb @cc13723things @thenormreedus @gooddaykate

[ilovefandoms102]

Part 14*

Summary: The Pogues go back to the Crain mansion to get the gold..what could possibly go wrong?

Taglist:

@ma10427 @lasnaro @certainstatesmantoadartisan @iamaunicorn4704 @riverdaleserpent04 @justcallmesams @sspidermanss @tangledinsparkles @jellyfishbeansontoast @hurricane-abigail @outerbongs @gviosca @eb15

Part 13 Part 15 

Note: Hope you guys have enjoyed this series as much as I have writing it! It means the world to me when you guys message me about how much you like this story, I was so nervous to post it and didn’t expect to get so much positive feedback. Thank you so much to every single person who has read this!

=======================================

JJ and I headed back to the chateau, reluctantly of course. My brother decided tonight would be the night we went and retrieved the gold from the Crain mansion. He wouldn’t stop calling both JJ and I, so we had to cut our date shorter than either of us would have liked. 

“What if all we find is the remains of Mr.Crain?” JJ asked, nervously biting his lip.

“Would you stop with that shit babe, Mrs. Crain did not kill her husband.” I said rolling my eyes at him.

“The only reason I’m even stepping foot near that place again is to get that gold.” JJ said.

“J, she’s not even going to know we’re there. She can’t hear or see.” I said, driving the boat to the dip by the chateau so JJ and I could drag up on the mainland. 

“She’s bat shit crazy, probably has like spidey senses or some shit babe” JJ said, helping me to pull the boat up. 

We walked into the chateau, my brother and Sarah sitting in the kitchen. I went into my room and changed into all black, tossing my old clothes in the hamper. I was a little chilly, so I threw on one of JJ’s sweatshirts.

“Pretty sure that’s mine” JJ said, coming in and throwing his stuff on his side of my room. He walked over closer to me, eyeing my outfit.

“Pretty sure I do the laundry around here so I have a right to wear what I want” I sassed back.

“You look hot in my clothes baby” he smiled, leaning down to kiss me. I chuckled, walking out of my room to the kitchen.

“So what’s the plan Bird?” I asked my brother.

I took out some things from around the kitchen to make stir fry. It being the cheapest thing I could buy and easy to make. I listened to John B, JJ and Sarah discussing the plan. 

“We’ll have to create a pulley so that I can be lowered down to get the gold.” John B said.

“How are we supposed to get 250 pounds of gold out?” Sarah asked.

“No way should we get all of it at once” JJ said. 

“Yeah, we need to just find one piece to take to someone and they can tell us how much it is. No reason to try and get it all if it’s not worth anything.” I said.

“Is it even safe to talk to anyone around here?” Sarah asked, irritating me with all her questions. 

“I’m confused to why you’re still here?” I asked. 

“Bubba, please” John B said, looking at me pleadingly.

“No John B, I’m not going to let some Kook tramp break your heart if this gold isn’t what everyone thinks it is.” I said, roughly placing things on the counter. I turned around to look at them. Sarah looking at the table and JJ giving me a ‘please stop’ look.

“She wants to help us, why is that not enough for you?” John B asked, he walked over to me and turned us to where our backs were facing JJ and Sarah.

“You are crazy if you think she’s not trying to set us up John Booker Routledge” I whispered.

“She’s not! I love her bubba, please just trust me. I promise you that is not her intentions.” he said.

“Birdie...” I sighed.

“Let me decide who is and isn’t good for me, please.” he said, gripping my hand. 

“Alright...but I’m still kicking her ass if she fucks with you” I said, moving back to the stove to continue cooking. 

“I love you” JJ said, coming up behind me and wrapping me in his arms. 

“You love me because I’m feeding you Maybank,” I joked, playfully pushing him away.

I finished dinner and we sat and ate. We got the stuff we needed to take to the Crain mansion. We piled in the van, picking up Kie and Pope on the way there. I was driving with JJ in the passenger seat, he was a nervous wreck. We got to the mansion, getting the stuff together before John B stopped us all.

“I just want to say, thank you guys. It means a lot for you guys to be here.” he said looking at each of us.

“Of course” Kie said, laughing.

“Always” Pope said, doing a handshake with my brother. Sarah blushing and looking down. 

“Alright are we done with the circle jerk?” JJ asked, throwing the rope over his shoulder. 

“I’m only here because I feel obligated as your older sister” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Two minutes” John B huffed. 

We made our way over the ledge and walked towards the middle of the yard. We started making our way towards the back side of the house when lights came on. We made a run by one of the trees and ducked under the taller bushes. 

“So she has motion sensor lights” Pope said. 

“Let’s throw a rock at them” JJ said, I looked over at him raising my brow.

“Are you dumb?” I asked sarcastically.

“What are we going to do about the light?” Kie asked.

“There’s and electrical box by the porch, I can just go up and turn it off” Sarah said. We all looked at her confused. “We used to come here and play hide and seek” she explained. 

“No way, you’re not going up there” John B said.

“Can you chill, she’s going to the porch” I said.

“No” he said. 

“Watch me” Sarah said.

“I’ll come with you” Kie said. I was glad she went because I’m sure my brother would have made me go if Kie hadn’t offered.

“Hey, be safe” John B said. 

“We will” Kie said. 

As they walked away I grabbed JJ’s face.

“Be safe” I said mocking JB.

“I’ll be so safe baby” he said, putting his hand on my cheek.

“Can you guys shut up” John B said irritably.

“But how will we be safe?” I asked jokingly. JJ, Pope, and I cracking up at ourselves. John B not finding it funny and heaving our stuff towards the back. 

We entered the side of the house where the basement was, setting up our equipment. John B and I moving the planks where the well was while Pope and JJ set up the pulley. 

“Are you sure about this?” I asked my brother. 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean, you just got out of the hospital. I can go down and you stay with the guys.” I said. 

“Bubba, I’ll be fine” he said, now adjusting the rope and harness.

JJ, Pope, and I lowered John B down into the well. 

“Please, for the love of God, don’t drop me” John B said.

“No promises” I mumbled. 

We were struggling hard, trying to adjust to get a good system going. JJ slipping, the rope losing slack and causing me to fall from having to grip the rope tighter. 

“JJ!”I yelled.

“I told you not to drop me!” John B yelled. 

“Beggars can’t be choosers” I yelled back.

We lowered the rope more, still struggling since the rope was super thin and my brother wasn’t exactly the lightest human.

“Ok, I’m at the bottom” John B said.

“What do you see bub?” I asked.

“Is Mr. Crain down there?” JJ asked, earning a smack on the head from me. 

“BUBBA PULL ME UP! JJ! POPE!” John B screamed all of the sudden.

We all jumped into action, pulling as fast as we could.

“Hold on Birdie!” I yelled.

“What’s going on John B?” Pope asked.

“Wait, wait!” John B said.

“What is it?” JJ asked.

“I found something hold on” he said.

Then, Sarah and Kie come barreling down the stairs. They looked terrified, like they had seen a ghost. Kie running to hug Pope, and Sarah coming to grab my arm, holding on to me. We heard John B talking but none of us could make out what he was saying. 

“What is he saying?” Kie asked.

“We need to go!” Sarah yelled. 

We all started pulling John B up, a gunshot ringing out and breaking the pulley. We all fell forward, losing the rope.

“John B climb up!” Pope yelled.

We saw Mrs. Crain with a shotgun, she rang out another shot all of us ducking. JJ grabbed me and ducked us in a corner, Pope joining us while Kie and Sarah went to the opposite of where we were. She shot the gun again, all of us darting out the door and to the van. 

“She’s blind as fuck how is she wielding a shotgun?!” JJ shouted, tugging on my hand as we ran. 

“That bitch can’t aim that’s for sure.” I said, laughing.

JJ jumped into the drivers seat with me being the passenger this time. The rest of the crew following behind, throwing themselves in the van. JJ took off, all of us looking behind for my brother. And sure, enough he comes running, throwing himself in.

“What the hell just happened?” Sarah asked.

“Why are we always getting shot at?!” Pope asked, throwing his arms out. 

“JB you smell like straight up asshole” I said, scrunching my nose up.

“I did it” he said, holding up a gold bar.

“No fucking way!” I shouted.

“You did not!” JJ said, looking back at John B.

“Oh my God guys, we’re gonna be rich!” Kie exclaimed.

“Full Kook!” Pope yelled.

We whooped and hollered the whole way down the road back to the chateau. JJ grabbed my hand and kissed it, his excitement warming my heart. We got back in one piece, Sarah cleaning the van where John B was. I took the liberty of hosing him.

“You got me messed up if you think you’re about to take one step in my house.” I said, forcing him to stand by the hose.

“Bubs come on” John B sighed.

I sprayed him thoroughly, JJ bringing him a towel. He stripped down to his underwear, tying the towel by his waste and threw me his wet clothes. I hung them on the porch before walking back inside. I closed the door in my room before looking back at JJ. He smiled so wide before running at me to pick me up and spun me around. I squealed, hugging him tight, and throwing my legs around his waist. 

“We’re gonna be rich baby” JJ said, looking up at me.

“It’s all real now J, I can’t believe we actually have it” I said, leaning my forehead against his. He fell back on the bed with me on top of him.

“I’m building us a big ass house, right on the beach.” JJ said, running his fingertips up and down my arms. 

“My only request is that we also have a huge pool, and a hot tub” I said, smiling down at him. 

“I’ll get you whatever you want baby” he said, sitting up to kiss me. 

I smiled into his kiss, putting both my hands on his cheeks. His hands going underneath my shirt. I shuddered at the contrast of his warm hands and his cold rings. He began to kiss down my neck, I tilted my head back to give him more space. 

“And you know the first thing we’re going to do after I build our house sweets?” he asked, his breath hitting my neck.

“What’s that my love?” I panted, threading my fingers in his hair.

“I’m gonna fuck you on every surface of that house” he growled, biting my neck and sucking at the spot. I gasped, moaning into his ear. 

“Properly christening it yeah?” I asked, pulling his head back so I could give him the same treatment. 

I bit my mark into his neck, licking up his neck. He grasped at my hips and flipped us over. We tore our clothes off, JJ rolling on a condom before thrusting hard inside me. I moaned loudly, throwing a hand over my mouth when I remembered my brother and Sarah were still here. 

“Shhh baby” JJ laughed, leaning down to cover his mouth with mine. 

JJ moved at a steady pace at first, thrusting in and out. I moved my legs higher on his waist, getting him to hit that special spot. I threw my head back, dragging my nails down his back. He moaned in my mouth, causing him to thrust faster.  

“JJ, baby, please, I need to cum” I pleaded.

JJ obliged, flipping me over on my stomach. Hoisting me up so I was on all fours, he grabbed my hips and started pounding into me. I yelped, throwing my head down to bite at the sheets. He reached under to rub at my clit, I could feel my orgasm coming. 

“JJ” I whimpered.

JJ grabbed my hair, pulling my head back to kiss me before starting to pound harder inside me. Silent screams escaped as my mouth hung open and no sounds came out. I screamed his name into my sheets as I collapsed on my bed, JJ being the only thing holding me up. I came hard, feeling JJ growing twitchy before he slammed inside me and stilled.

We went in the bathroom to shower, JJ sitting on the counter afterwords while I did my night routine. We went back into my room, collapsing on the bed. I laid on my back, JJ putting his head on my chest and snuggling into me.

“I love you baby” he mumbled sleepily.

“I love you honey bear” I whispered.

We both fell into a peaceful sleep huddled in each others arms. 

====================================================

[dream-woke]

Something About Spiderman

[Peter Parker Imagine]

About: While watching tv with Peter, he grows frustrated with how much you like Spiderman.

Warnings: None

Note: I had a habit of writing Tom instead of Peter, so if you see any Toms anywhere in the story, instead if Peter, please let me know.

~Not my gif~

“How does one miss this much school?” You questioned, looming over the table of unorganized papers.

Peter had begged for you to come over and help him get through all the work he’s missed, and you had repeatedly told him no. If it had been any other week, there was a chance you might’ve said yes. But, you had to stay home all week just in case the plumber had finally decided to stop by like he was supposed to three days ago to fix the sink. So, Peter being Peter, had popped up at your door with a folder too big to be true and four deli sandwiches crammed into his hoodie.

“The internship wants a lot from me, like they want my attention twenty times more than any other employee.” He said, his voice muffled due to his mouth full of sandwich.

“So then why are you still an intern?” You asked, twirling your pencil in your hands. He looked at you with a blank face, but said nothing and began to rummage through the papers, ignoring your comment. You snorted at him, then reached to grab your sandwich and take a bite.

“Okay so, we should start on the easy stuff first.” You stated, wiping your mouth with a crumbled napkin next to you. Peter began searching amongst the papers, once he had found what he needed, he placed the paper between the two of you.

“Alright, so we should start with science and then move onto math and then reading.” Peter stated all of the subjects from hardest to easiest - for you of course - and had opened his science book to the page. You cocked your brow at the brunette, questioning whether or not he truly needed your help. Peter noticed your look of confusion.

“Ah, sorry. I forgot your not good at science,” he said and paused before taking a deep breath in and out. “Or math. ” Peter snickered, looking away from you and at the paper.

Clicking your tongue, you playfully punched his arm, causing him to let out an ‘ow’. “I’ll have you know Parker, that I have a B in that class thank you very much.” You contorted, swiftly taking the paper from his hands, as well as the book.

After an hour had passed, you had set your pencil down onto the table, and stretched your arms above your head. Peter had snuck a glance at the exposed skin of your stomach right before it was covered by your shirt after putting your arms back down. Clearing his throat, Peter put his pencil down.

“Maybe we should take a break, watch some tv or something.” He said, getting up from the chair and darting into the living room before you could state your opinion. Shrugging your shoulders, you got up from your seat.

Following him, you plopped yourself down onto the floor next to Peter, leaning your backs up against the sofa. Peter had turned on the tv and both of you were met with the latest news of Spiderman. Its was much of the same stuff - Spiderman swinging around the neighborhood, stopping robbers and drug deals. Even so, you were always hooked onto anything that had involved the web slinging, crime stopper.

Peter looked at the tv and then towards you. His eyes bouncing back and forth, he noticed how immerse you were by the view of him swinging around just to save a cat from tree. But the fact that you didn’t know it was him bothered him. At the same time, he couldn’t help but feel like this was the most anyones ever contradicted themselves - being jealous of himself. Using his foot, he knocked it against yours to grab your attention.

“(Y/N)?” You let out a ‘mhm’ but never broke your gaze from the tv. Peter thought about doing it again, but decided that it was enough for you to listen to him.

“Why do you like him so much?” Peter said, sounding a bit unsure of his question. But it was enough for you to break your gaze from the small screen. Looking at him and then at the ground, you shrugged your shoulders.

“I don’t know, theres just... something about him.” You answered, straightening your posture up against the couch. Peter narrowed his brows at your statement.

“Like what?”

You bit your lip as you were thinking, looking at the small owl statue that decorated the coffee table.

“I think... I don’t think it’s just the fact that he’s a hero or that he’s mysterious,” You stopped, thinking once more before continuing. “I think its the way he’s so much more normal compared to all the other heroes.”

Peter had sat up away from the sofa, getting a better look at your face. “I mean, from what I do know about him, I’m pretty sure I’d love to meet him. Someone like him, he sounds great.” You finished off, with a gentle smile.

At that Peter had felt his chest clench, in warmth and in envy. After about twenty minutes, you were ready to end your break. Stretching once more, you turned towards Peter, who was already looking at you in deep thought.

“Pete?” You said, breaking him from his contemplation.

“Yeah, uh, sure.” He said, looking flustered. You snorted and playfully punched his arm.

“We should finish the work while we have the time.” You tilted your head towards the dining room.

However, as you were getting up, Peter suddenly grabbed your hand, causing you to face him with a questioning look. Looking straight into your (E/C) eyes, Peter gave your hand a light squeeze.

“(Y/N)?” He said. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure what he was doing and right now it felt too late to pull back from whatever his body was going to do. He inhaled sharply before pushing it out. He looked at your hand in his, feeling how right it felt, how perfect your hand fit in his. Dragging his thumb over your fingers, he bit his lip, averting his gaze towards yours once again.

“Do you...” He cleared his throat, his eyes dancing across your face. You waited for him to speak, but instead was met with the feeling of the atmosphere shifting into something much different than the one before.

The look in his eyes was causing goosebumps to crawl up your arm, it was beginning to kill you inside, feeding into your lack of patience. But this lack of patience was different than the others. The way he was staring at you, biting into his lip, and the warmth of his hand - this was a different kind of impatience.

“Do you like Spiderman more than you like me?”

He was waiting for you to answer, but you couldn’t find yourself thinking straight - especially with the way he was looking at you. “I-I...” You tried to speak but the tension between the two of you was so strong, it was as if you forgot how to speak. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips.

Feeling as if there was a magnetic force, pulling the two of you together, you both had began to lean in. First it was his nose brushing against yours. And then it was his lips brushing against yours as he tilted his head to the side. Your breathing fell of beat, hitching as his hand let go of yours, and placing itself onto the side of your cheek.

And with six unreasonably loud knocks, you both quickly seperated, breathing heavily and out of pace.

“Yo, I’m here ta’ fix ya’ sink! Open da’ door!”

You groaned at the unfortunate timing of the plumber. Like of all the times he had to come, it just had to be now. Looking once more at Peter, you questioned whether or not you really needed your sink fixed. However, the pounding against the door had knocked you out of that thought. Groaning once again, you got up to answer the door.

“Finally, what are you people deaf or somethin’, don’t know how to answer a door on time?” He sassed, scoffing as he pushed past you with the tools in his hand. You rolled your eyes at his ‘on time’ statement.

Peter cleared his throat. When you glanced back, he had his phone lifted up. “Aunt May needs me, apparently theres someone who needs to see me.” He said with an apologetic smile. Giving him a small smile you nodded.

Right before he walked out of the door, he stopped in front of you. “To be continued?” He asked.

You smirked. “To be continued.”

[galahadwilder]

Unwise

Ch. 2: In Which Too Many People Turn Patrols Into Dates

Happy birthday @alexseanchai! You wanted more Unwise? Here you go!

*

Convincing Fu to let her bring out the other Miraculi on a semi-permanent basis had been a chore in and of itself. Feast had proven the depth of his paranoia—though, to be fair, it’s not technically paranoia if people are actually out to get you—and she wasn’t prepared to lose Tikki a second time. He’d refused to allow her to bring out more Miraculi, until she’d forcefully reminded him that A. she is a full-fledged Guardian now, he’d said that himself, and B. She, a child, is the one on the front lines while he hides. (She hates bringing that up, because she knows why he’s doing it, but it was that or go insane.)

Eventually, he’d relented, though he’d let her take only the ones who’d already proven themselves. Which was fine, it wasn’t like she was planning on doing any recruiting anytime soon.

She’d been planning to hand out all of the Miraculi herself, as usual, but as soon as she’d had them in her hands she’d paused, reconsidered. Chat was right—trying to do everything herself has been driving her insane. She already knows that, if she goes down, Chat can take the earrings and Mister Bug it up—or, in an emergency situation, just Cataclysm a butterfly and wait for her to get back up—so there’s a little bit of the weight off there. But the fact is, he was originally never supposed to know the identities of any of the backup, and if she were to have gone down in that situation he’d have been left to continue the fight alone in a way that she never would. The thought makes her want to vomit.

And she can’t deny that the way Chat’s face lit up when she asked him to help her distribute the Miraculi had done something funny in her tummy. Not love, of course, nor attraction—absolutely not that, stop laughing Tikki—but something. She’d laid out all of the Miraculi Fu had let her take on their favorite rooftop, then, after a moment’s consideration, handed him the Horse, the Bee, and the Dragon (she’d briefly passed her hand over the snake, but she saw the way he tried to suppress a shudder; curious as his reaction made her, she knew she couldn’t let herself think about what that was about, lest she learn something she shouldn’t).

She picked up the Fox, the Snake, the Turtle, and the Mouse, then paused, thought, made a decision. “You already know who the mouse is,” she said. “If you ever need an illusionist, and I’m not there to help you...” She held up the foxtail necklace. “This one goes to the Ladyblogger.”

Chat froze. “My Lady,” he said, the Dragon choker dangling between his claws, “are you... sure I should know this?”

She nodded. “You said yourself, I can’t keep doing this alone,” she said. “You’re my partner.”

There’d been no big meeting; someone might’ve noticed that Multimouse wasn’t there, and that would lead to questions she doesn’t want to answer. She’d made a list of reasons why, but surprisingly, Chat had asked for none of them, simply agreeing with her out of hand.

The whole thing is going swimmingly, and yet she can’t help feeling guilty about how she’d arranged the patrols. She’d insisted on not letting Rena Rouge and Carapace patrol together, since there was no way either of them could tear away from each other in a non-emergency situation, so for the first two few nights she’d rotated them through everyone but each other, just to keep from ill-advised makeouts. And yet, here she is, having intentionally arranged herself on patrol with Adrien...

God, she’s a hypocrite.

She can honestly say that after a week of letting other holders cover patrols, she’s more rested than she’s been in a while. But she’s done so many stupid things to spend time with Adrien, it’s not like one more will make a difference at this point, right? And at least this way she’s doing something productive with it. She hopes. If she can, you know, actually hold it together around him to do anything.

“Tikki,” she groans into her hands, her elbows propped on her desk. “Tell me I’m doing the right thing.” The cursor blinks on the anonymous Google schedule she’s been sharing with the team, waiting for her to confirm the time of her first patrol as Multimouse. Her first patrol with Adrien. She wonders, idly, what he’ll choose for his name.

Tikki sighs from her spot on Marinette’s pincushion, rolling a chocolate chip between her paws. “I don’t know,” she says. “Master Fu had very good reasons not to let the rest of us out of the box, but you also have very good reasons.” She looks up at Marinette, her blue eyes shining with compassion. “I do worry about you.”

“I’m just happy to be out and about,” Mullo says, climbing onto Marinette’s phone and poking the screen with delight. “So much new technology! I didn’t get to see this last time you wore me.”

“Not that,” Marinette says, dropping her hands onto the desk—then she tilts her head. “Well, yes that, but not what I’m asking about right now.” She sighs, staring at the calendar block. “Am I being... selfish, with this schedule?”

Tikki purses her lips, then turns the chocolate chip on its side and starts rolling it back and forth on the desk beneath one paw, staring at it pensively.

“Tikki?” Marinette whispers.

Tikki grimaces. “You know you’re not supposed to use your powers for personal gain,” she says. “I’ve told you before.”

Marinette swallows. “I remember,” she whispers.

Tikki tilts her head. “On the other hand,” she says, “this might be more practical than you think.”

Marinette blinks. “What?”

“If he is going to be a full-time member of the team, it might help to acclimate yourself to his presence?” Tikki says, a small smile spreading across her face. “We wouldn’t want you to start tripping over your words in the middle of combat.” She flings the chocolate chip straight up, then launches her tiny body from the desk, swallowing it in a single gulp in a manner reminiscent of the poster for Jaws.

“Hey!” Marinette protests. “I did fine last time!”

“You said one sentence and you had to use Sass to practice it eight times first,” Tikki says with a smug grin, crossing her arms.

Marinette bites her lip, then rolls her eyes. “You see how mean she is to me?” she says to Mullo.

“Hm? What?” the rat says, her head perking up and twisting back and forth. “I’m sorry, I was distracted by this...” Her turns back to the phone, where she’s been swiping between app pages with wide eyes. “Um, magic screen thing.”

Tikki giggles. “Not everything humans do is magic, Mullo.” She flits around to Marinette’s eye level. “Marinette. The day I told you not to use your powers for personal gain? That was our third time out. I didn’t know you then. I do now.” She reaches out, laying her palm on Marinette’s cheek. “You’ve grown into a responsible and professional young woman, and Master Fu has selected you to be the next Guardian.” She floats back. “I trust your judgment. And besides, you deserve a break.” She gestures to the computer screen, where the calendar is still waiting, unfinished. “If this is what you want to do? Then you should do it.”

Marinette swallows as tears brim in her eyes. “I—thank you, Tikki,” she whispers.

“Of course,” Tikki says, zipping forward to hug Marinette’s cheek again. “I love you so much, Marinette.”

“I love you too,” Marinette says, cupping her Kwami to her cheek with her palm.

“Oh my Guardians!” Mullo sobs. “You—you two— you are...” She rolls over onto her back, letting out a tiny melodramatic wail. “Your friendship is so perfect!”

Tikki snorts, backing away from Marinette’s cheek. “Okay. Back down there, Squeakers.”

Marinette sets her jaw, looking at the screen. “So,” she says, “I’m doing this?”

Tikki nods. Mullo rolls back onto her stomach, looking back at her expectantly.

Marinette nods back. “I’m doing this,” she says, and presses her finger down on Enter.

*

This was a mistake this was a mistake this was a mistake this was a mistake—

Sapis (who looks amazing in his costume, his gossamer half-cape floating off his back, furry cuffs on his wrists, black streaks in his carefully styled hair to resemble antennae—oh, she’s going to be gushing about this to Tikki later) is looking at her with eyes like the night sky, golden irises inset on black sclera, and she feels all the breath leave her body. She’s seen enough of Adrien’s patented “Soft Eyes” in candid shots from Alya that she thought she’d be immune, but nope, photographs have in no way prepared her for the real thing. Sweet Kwamis, she’s going to die and she hasn’t even said a word to him yet.

Say something, Ladybug, she tells herself. But under Sapis’ gaze, in Multimouse’s suit that she’s suddenly aware came out far more cute than her usual reassuringly minimalist design, she doesn’t feel like Ladybug, so when she opens her mouth, she only manages to squeak.

Nice, she thinks, mentally kicking herself. Well done. Very professional.

“H-hi!” she yelps. “Are you, um...” She grips her elbow, her free hand playing with the tail of the jump rope tied around her waist. “Queen Bee’s replacement?”

“Yep,” he says in an exaggeratedly deep voice. He takes a Superman stance, pressing his fists to his hips, and turns his eyes dramatically to look somewhere slightly behind her. It looks generally ridiculous, and he clearly knows it. “Sapis, at your service.”

“Sapis?” she says, squinting one eye, trying to remember if she knows what that means in Latin. Sagesse... that’s the same root, right? “Wisdom?”

His whole face lights up, and her heart leaps in her chest. “Old Latin pun,” he says. “Si sapis, sis apis.” He steps forward, holding out a hand. “If you’re wise? Be a bee.”

She stares at him, looking at his hand, then his face, then his hand, then his face. She has—she knows what she’s supposed to do here, but this is Adrien trying to introduce himself, and she knows it’s him, and he doesn’t know it’s her, and she has to get this impression exactly right. The joke is stupid, silly, it’s so very Chat Noir that she’s caught off guard and suddenly her chest is bubbling, she’s laughing, and oh god is he going to think that she’s laughing at him? Is he going to be disappointed? Is he going to be crushed? Oh Kwamis, is he going to hate her forever?

And then his eyes shut, and he giggles, pure and clear, and it’s just like that moment after the umbrella closed on her head. Lightning strikes in her heart all over again, and it’s everything she can do not to fall on her steadily reddening face.

Finally, he calms down, but when his golden-black eyes turn back to her he’s still beaming. “So,” he says, gesturing to her necklace, “Chat Noir tells me you’re really good with that thing.”

She reaches up, fingers it nervously. “I—pretty good, yeah.”

Sapis grins, hoisting his trompo. “Wanna show me what you’ve got?”

A slow, sly grin spreads across her face in answer as she reaches for her jump rope, the confidence building in her chest. This is familiar territory. This, she can handle. “You’re on, bee boy.”

Adrien wants to see what she can do? He won’t even know what hit him.

[golbrocklovely]

not in my world // colby brock

requested by anonymous (and other ppl too): You should defffffinitely write that fanfic of vampire Colby cause I really need that in my life😂😂

A/N: so I wrote this when I was a bit sleep deprived (which I believe is the best time for me to work apparently) AND while I was watching the new season of Veronica Mars. Btw watch it if you can bc HOLY SHIT IT IS GOOD. Anyway, a lot of the sass is bc of that show, also the character of veronica too lol that being said, I kinda left this one open ended in case I want to make a series off of it. We shall see. If you guys want me to write one, I will. Lmk what you think. Sorry this is late also! I’ll see yall later :)

trigger warning: VAMPIRE STUFF: blood, neck biting, drinking, fighting, cursing

word count: 1605

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I'd be working at bar designated for vampires. Yet, here I was, bartending away to our lovely patrons.

And by lovely, I mean dickheads.

Vampires came out into our world a couple years back, when I was only a teenager. They were tired of hiding so they wanted to be visible, be seen as something real. Most humans didn't take it well at first, but we got used to it, especially since a lot of important people were also vampires.

The moment vampires were accepted, vampire establishments started opening up everywhere. Of course, there were some states that banned vampire businesses from existing, but one of the most popular states to go to for all things vampire was California. In particular, Los Angeles; which is where I lived and worked.

The bar was called Vampiro; not the biggest vampire bar in LA, but the loyalist of vamps came here. Other bars were more designed to draw in tourists and vacationers. This bar had almost no humans in it. I was one of the few.

Originally, I was hired because I was human, which would attract more vampires. The reason I stayed was because I was immune to vampire's powers. Some vampires had abilities, depending on how old or powerful they were. Some could see into the future, some could read minds, some could even control people. But none of those powers worked on me.

This became a very useful thing when working at a bar. Vamps were always surprised and soon learned I was not the one to be messed with.

"Yo! Can I get ten shots of jäger? And a pint of blood? B positive?" A vamp called to me, shining his fangs at me. He had black hair and the darkest brown eyes I had ever seen.

"Of course. Since you asked so kindly..." I stated, a tight-lipped smile falling to my face. I swiped his card and gave it back with a nod.

Grabbing the jäger bottle, I poured out the shots, followed by the cup of blood. Placing them all on a tray, I walked over to his table. He was there with three other vamps, two brunettes and a blonde haired one.

I set the tray down, sliding all the drinks onto the table. "Ten shots jäger, one pint B positive."

"You know, I'm not really into B positive. What blood type are you? You smell like O positive, maybe AB?" The blonde haired vampire smirked, lightly grabbing my wrist.

"Oh. My blood type is actually super rare. It's FU." I deadpanned, smiling sweetly.

He gripped my arm tightly as I tried to pull away. "I think... you should be a bit nicer to me. I am a paying customer."

"I'm pretty sure your friend is the one that paid. Also, get your hand off me." I grunted, glaring him down.

"Why don't you say that looking into my eyes, sweetheart?" He hissed, pulling me into him. Making me stare into his eyes, I could see his pupils dilate and shrink. This was an immediate sign he was trying to use his power on me.

"I think you're feeling apologetic for being a bitch to me. Maybe you want to say sorry to me by giving me just a tiny bit of your blood." He whispered. He nodded his head to the rest of the boys at the table, all of which were smirking.

I smiled. "You know, I would say I'm sorry, but then that would make both of us idiots." I ripped my arm away from him and took a couple steps back. His mouth was slightly gaped open. "Do anything like that again and I'll sick security on you. And let me tell you, they ain't as nice as I am."

I rolled my eyes and walked back to the bar. I could hear the vamps whispering to each other as I got back to work.

"Why are all the vamps that come here terrible?" Veronica, my coworker, nudged me.

I laughed. "I think I attract them like a magnet."

"Sucks to be you." Veronica joked.

"That's not a lie." I mumbled, starting a new cocktail order.

/  /

"Night, Ronnie! See ya tomorrow!" I yelled, exiting the back door of the bar. I walked towards the employee parking lot, where my car was parked.

I felt a chill run up my spine. The air wasn't cold, August in California never reached a temperature below 70. I could feel goosebumps rise all over my skin.

Suddenly, I felt a breeze fly past me quickly. And then another. Another. Another. I looked in every direction hastily.

What the fuck is that?

I ran to my car, keys in hand ready to unlock it. Right as I was opening the car door, it slammed shut, a hand pressing it closed. I was then spun around and pressed against my backseat side door.

"Hello bartender. We meet again." Blondie smiled, holding me against my car.

"What the fuck do you want?" I snapped, trying to shove his hands off me.

He pushed me harder into the car. I could feel a bruise form from the handle pressing into my lower back. "I want to know how you did it."

"Did what?" I jeered.

"How did you ignore my power?" He insisted, getting close to my face. "I'm able to make any human do what I want. Except you..."

"Guess I'm lucky." I hissed.

He chuckled darkly. "Yeah, you are. Because the shit I was gonna have you do-"

"Let her go."

Blondie turned around to the deep voice that spoke. The person stood a few yards back. His body was relaxed, but his face was tense. He was dressed in all black; a fitted tee, ripped jeans, and vans. His hair fell over his forehead and almost covered his eyes. The front of his hair was an icy blue, almost matching his eyes. He was beautiful.

"Who the fuck are you?" Blondie demanded.

The figure shrugged. "I don't think that matters. Just let her go and there won't be any problems."

Blondie laughed. "Is she your bitch or something?"

"Fuck you." I fumed.

He turned back to me. The smirk on his face fell. He opened his mouth and showed his razor-sharp fangs at me. "I'll do one better."

Blondie grabbed my neck and slammed his fangs into me. I screamed out in pain, feeling his teeth sink into my skin. But as soon as they were in, they were out.

The dark figure had grabbed Blondie and ripped him away from me. They began to fight. The dark figure threw punch after punch, blocking all of Blondie's moves. Blondie might have been fast, but the dark figure was faster.

The dark figure wrapped his hands around Blondie's neck and snapped it, the loud crack echoing through the lot. Blondie's body fell to the ground with a loud thud.

I turned my back to the figure, shaking. I could feel his presence behind me. I was turned around abruptly, the dark figure now directly in front of me. I could finally see his eyes and just how blue they were. I felt myself get lost in them for a moment, only to have his voice pull me out.

"Are you hurt?" He asked calmly, staring at my neck wound.

I placed a hand over my bite. "No. I just like to casually bleed from my neck."

"You don't gotta be a smart ass. I did just save your life." He smirked.

"I had it under control." I groaned, running a hand through my hair.

He chuckled. "Right. My bad. So, being cornered up against your car was part of the plan?"

I rolled my eyes at him, not saying a word.

"What was his problem anyway? What did you do?" He inquired.

"Why do you assume I did something? Maybe he's just fucking crazy and wanted to attack me! On the news, there's a new vamp attack every night." I argued.

He smiled lightly. "They're the only ones they tell you about."

"How would you.... you're a vampire?" I responded, leaning back from him.

I could see his fangs stick out while he talked. "Don't I look it?"

"Without the fangs, I would just assume you're emo." I shrugged.

He bit his lip, hiding a smile. "You're not the first person to say that to me."

"Who are you anyway?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

He stuck his hand out. "I'm Colby. What's your name?"

"Y/N." I shook his hand politely. I tried to pull my hand away, but he held onto it, his eyes wide.

"What the fuck are you?" He whispered, stilling staring at me.

"What?" I gasped.

"How... can I not see into you?" He stepped closer to me.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I muttered.

"I'm able to read people. I can see their whole life by a single touch. How can I not see yours?" He looked into my eyes. I had to pull myself away just to focus.

"...Let's just say I'm immune." I answered.

He stepped back, stunned. "That's impossible."

I shook my head. "Not in my world."

Colby backed away for a moment, still staring at me. "Uh... if you ever have a problem again, call this number." He pulled out a card and handed it to me.

 XPLR Services

(XXX-XXX-XXXX)

 "What the hell is this even for?" I looked back up at Colby, but there was no one but me. I gazed around the parking lot quickly.

He was gone.

[raleigh-ocean]

bonnie and clyde's homebody's days | part 1 | natasha romanoff x sharon carter

words: 5,050

summary: Every day she spent by Sharon’s side, made Natasha realize how little she knew about her but at the same time how much she could actually understand about the woman. However, Sharon realized exactly the same about the Black Widow.

But now that they were together —for what it seemed a long time—, they could actually fix everything in their own weird way. Being homebodies together seemed a really good way to get to know each other better.

And Natasha liked it.

Because that was everything she wanted from a long time ago.

n/a: i had this story on my ao3 for a really long time and I thought maybe posting it here will make me want to keep writing it, because I had such good feelings about it...so here you have the first chapter while I write the third part of ashes to ashes!

part 1: homecoming

Her whole body ached from holding on the adrenaline, but she had to in order to get the job done. During the day, she had been getting every bit of intel she could get from the neighborhood people, playing the innocent soon-to-be-neighbor that wants to know a bit the whole place before finally moving in. It was good to not feel like everyone was about to jump over her back, ready to delate her and arrest her.

Running her fingers through her now short hair, she wondered if it was even a good idea. She was going to shoot her, in the best case, but she could get away from it with her natural gift of the gab. But she was going to beat her up, oh yeah, and it was going to hurt...for a day, maybe, two if she shoot her.

She looked up at the apartment block from the terrace where she was sat at. The last one was hers, she studied the whole place from her laptop when she did some research field at the station. Escaping from Berlin was the easiest thing she ever did, but as much as she wanted to not be noticed, being the worldwide-known-redhead didn’t help her a bit. With luck she had managed to reach Belarus before anyone notice her, but then a few agents from the Interpol tried to casually knock her down. The idea of dying her hair wasn’t really attractive but it was for the best. Another thing that she didn’t like at all. She really hated blonde, with every drop of her whole being, only liking it on her.

Sharon’s blonde wasn’t that light. It was way darker, caramel-like.

Hers was almost white, platinum, and she hated it even more thanks to her memories.

Gulping down the rest of her coffee, she prepared herself to climb to the top of the building. If she entered by the front door, then it would be so rookie of her. Like a mere burglar, too loud, too childish. Her backpack had only a few things she got to get before running away. Her laptop, her favorite pair of boots, a few of her toys and some clothes. She felt like a soldier, too little in her back and none to come back home to.

While climbing from the back alley, she remembered her trip. After Belarus she went to Russia right away, to clear her mind and find some old connections that would help her get some new documents and another intel she would need after parting ways with everyone she knew. For a second, around the fourth block, she had to stop. Hanging there from a balcony, thinking that she was alone now with none to care if she let herself fall from that high—she could hear Sharon already, giving her the scold of her life while she probably bleed to death, her brain all over the pavement.

But now there she was, in Finland, climbing Sharon’s apartment block to get in hers and be shoot by the same woman out of surprise. Lovely plan, she chuckled giving herself a last push in Sharon’s balcony.

The metal balcony was frozen, making her feet hurt from the cold that passed through her thin climbing shoes. Taking one of her toys out of her even thiner coat, the window lock gave in really easily. It was bloody cold out there, she hadn’t any bit of patience after being the whole day wandering around in that cold town Sharon decided to settle her safe place.

When her feet touched the carpet, she looked around to take a glimpse of the whole living room. Sharon wasn’t home, not yet at least, giving her a little time to think about what she was going to tell her.

She closed the window with care —trying to not be noisy anyway, out of habit— and when she turned around to start walking towards the lamp at the corner of the room, an iron fist met her jaw with a powerful hook.

Dizzy for a second, she managed to take a wrist and then throw a blind punch that landed right in someone’s shoulder. The attacker didn’t seem to feel it, because they threw another punch and then connected it with a side kick that she got to stop. The electricity shone for a second before her punch landed right in her attacker’s stomach, getting a shriek of pain from them. But that didn’t last much, because the attacker held her arm before kicking her ribs twice. With her last electric charge wasted, she tried to knock the attacker down with all her strength, jumping over them and encircling her legs to their neck before smash both fists in their head.

However as she was encircling her legs around their neck, the attacker put both hands in her thighs before spinning around and making her to lose her balance and land against the wall. That kicked the air out of her lungs immediately and quickly she was retained in a headlock. The attacker strength was enough to strangulate her now that she didn’t have much of hers to counterattack.

Feeling the lack of oxygen creeping into her, her hand wandered blindly around her till she got something and she smashed it in the head of her attacker, breaking free finally and rolling away from them.

In her head, every single bit of intel passed at light speed, only wondering if someone had found Sharon before her and they were going to get her right in the moment she steps in her apartment. She had to get rid off them before she came back home, she had to save her—

“Don’t you fucking dare to move,” she felt the cold bite of a gun in the middle of her forehead. The voice was twice as cold and a little click from the safety made her shiver. “Because I won’t hesitate on painting my wall with your head.”

She kept being still where she was, her brain stuck on what the attacker had said. Her voice was cold, yeah, but she could figure out a soft accent from someone that was too into getting unnoticed. And also, the remark on ‘my wall’ made her panic.

It was Sharon. Sharon was the attacker.

Before she could say something, they heard someone walking towards the front door. In the darkness, she saw Sharon put a finger over her lips to shush her. Whoever was behind the door, asked worriedly if Sharon was okay but the old lady —as she could discern perfectly- called her ‘Elisabetta’ instead of her real name. Sharon replied in loud italian, almost cheerful to match the lie that came with her words —bang her head? Against the shelf? And then knock off the wardrobe?— and waited a minute before pressing the gun a bit more against her skin. When the old lady went away after making Sharon promise that she will pass by her house next morning, to check if she was really okay, and she swore she had seen the determination to kill her in Sharon’s eyes.

Natasha never blurted out something that fast ever in her life.

“It’s me, Sharon. It’s me, please, don’t shoot,” for once she really felt her tears piling up in her eyes. “Put the safety on the loaded gun, baby. Put the safety on, damn it.”

Sharon kept the gun against her skin but her voice sounded different when she talked next.

“Natasha?” That was more warm and more like the Sharon she knew. “What are—bloody hell, Natasha.”

A weak smile rolled over Natasha’s lips but when Sharon turned on the light, the smile died. Sharon was bleeding from her head, the blood dripping over her right eye; her face had the pain painted all over it, matching with her right arm resting in her stomach; and her shoulder looked...off. Natasha was way less harm than her, only feeling a little ache in her throat and maybe she would have a bruise in her cheek from the punch.

Her dark brown hair was just an insignificant detail compared with the rest.

“When did you got this strong? Baby has some iron punches,” Natasha tried to brush the situation off, trying to play along with a smirk. “Are you going to keep pointing at me with the gun or would you like me to help you?”

Sharon’s face got even colder with the remark. Natasha knew that she didn’t let a spark of her shine for at least four or five months but now she was there, alive. When she heard the soft click from the safety, Natasha felt herself relax. But Sharon wasn’t, and her lips were pressed in a strong line before say something.

“You electrocuted me,” her hand tighten over her stomach, Natasha feeling a rush of guilty washing her from head to toe. “After barging in my apartment, four and half months without any trace of you or any of the others,” she wiped with shaking fingers some blood off her face. Natasha stood there, looking at her. “And the only thing you say is ‘baby has some iron punches’?”

“Would you be happier if I’d said ‘I’m home, my love’?” Natasha tried to sass her way out of Sharon’s building anger.

“I’d be okay without my butcher telling me there was this strange blonde woman acting all suspicious around town, creeping the shit out of everyone around the block,” Natasha hit the first strike just with her try of avoiding it. “Did you think for a second that I was myself hiding?”

“I thought you were here because the CIA wanted you here,” Natasha, don’t lie, it’s even worse if you do it. The little voice in her head was always so right in these cases. “You’re always the perfect one, babe.”

“After stealing government stuff, I was included in the same list as you all,” she tried to smile but she drop it immediately. “Not even a kiss from Captain America himself make any of this slightly better.”

Natasha felt cold, her whole body aching inside because of the confession.

“I thought you were satisfied with the Black Widow eating you out,” she felt the second strike as soon as those words left her mouth, Sharon’s eyes darting to hers menacing. “Next time I see that moron, you bet I’m going to crack his skull.”

“Your childish jealousy it’s making me dizzy, Romanoff,” she said coldly, letting the gun over the table and looking really pale at this moment. Natasha worried immediately, taking a few steps towards Sharon before she lifted her good arm to stop her. “I swear if you say something else to sass your way out from this, I’m kicking you out.”

“I smashed a crystal ashtray against your head, sweetie,” Natasha was serious now but she stopped when Sharon’s hand touch her belly. She could see her tears falling freely from her eyes and her hand gripped in Natasha’s thin coat. “I think you’ll need stitches.”

“What I need now is a glass of bourbon,” Sharon’s voice cracked as soon the words left her mouth. “And I won’t say no to a kiss, maybe.”

No third strike. Natasha kneeled in front of the other woman before pulling her into a kiss. It tasted salty but she didn’t care a single bit. She pulled away a little, letting out a soft chuckle that made Sharon flinch and let out a few more tears. With care, she wiped them with her thumbs before pressing her lips together again. This was what she loved from her girl. She could be ready to take her down one second and the next she could melt her insides, only being the big nervous ball of fluff she was under the facade of ‘agent’.

It took a couple more of minutes for Sharon to let go of her. Natasha stood up, going towards the cupboard to get a glass and pour the alcohol there. The strong drink made her grimace twist a bit, but when she saw her girl chug it as if was water she let out a muffled laugh. Her fingers ran through Sharon’s dark locks, checking the open wound before asking quietly where the first-aid kit was. Head wounds could be so scandalous, she thought while cleaning the cut placed in Sharon’s hair line. Natasha put her shoulder back after she had chug another glass of strong bourbon and, after checking the electroshock wasn’t going to make her have a heart attack, she proceeded to take care of the burnt in Sharon’s stomach.

“I like your hair,” those four words were followed by the brunette brushing with care Natasha’s short hair.

“I like yours too, silly,” a light chuckle before a kiss in her cheek. “I have to say this before I blurted it out in an inappropriate moment." Sharon tried to hold her head with her good hand. "Babe, you really look like you're her love child.”

Sharon smiled at that for a second and then she sighed deeply. The sigh gave Natasha the feeling that she didn't have to say that. There was something behind her behavior that she didn’t want to tell yet and Natasha knew it by the way she was trying to avoid eye contact. She understood, smiling warmly before making her lying down in the couch. She wasn’t going to go anywhere, but Sharon caught her hand before making her way to the kitchen. She didn’t look at her and Natasha had to be the one talking again.

“I’m starving, I thought it would be really cool if I make some supper for both,” she ran her thumb over Sharon’s back of the hand to calm her down.

“You won’t go, right?” Her voice was soft and cautious, not letting show more feeling that she already had shown. “You came here for a reason.”

Natasha leant one more time over Sharon to press a kiss in her forehead. It made her feel heavy inside when the other woman talked with that tiny voice. She had talked like that a few times in front of her, the last one in Berlin when they met briefly before everything went down hill, right after Peggy’s funeral. It was the girl behind the agent, the girl that caught her around her fingers when she didn’t notice, the girl that she was willing to give in every single time her brown eyes locked with hers.

“I thought you wanted to move in with me,” Natasha faked a hurt voice before keep talking with playfulness dripping in every word that left her mouth. Sharon’s hand slapped her thigh. “And no, I won’t go. We will have time tomorrow to talk, Bonnie, but for now let Clyde take care of you.”

Sharon chuckled something that seemed like ‘why are you always Clyde’, trying to sound more cheerful than the last interactions they had. However, from the kitchen, Natasha saw how she put her gun near her in the table. That little detail made her wonder about what the other woman had been put through during their separate time.

She didn't miss either how Sharon flinched slightly when she put the plate over the living room table.

...

Sitting cross-legged over the toilet, Natasha rubbed her temples with her fingers. It was nearly four in the morning, way after they decided that it was a really good idea to get some sleep. She took the couch for once in her life, trying to give Sharon some space to think alone. She decided not to ask for anything more than a shower, letting her desire of working in her laptop die when Sharon got pale with the mention of it.

Natasha was a nervous ball on daily basis, she couldn't stay still for five minutes without jumping into weird monologues or without start messing around with whoever was near her. It was something that came with her personality, it was Natalia trying to get out in someway. And lately these days, she felt more like Natalia than Natasha. That's why she was locked in the only bathroom of the apartment, trying to come up with something to finally stay still for what it seemed would be a long time.

She listed —helping herself with her fingers too— things that she knew already about Sharon. When she got a handful, she started to reduce the list to those she knew that drive Sharon mad. The first thing she had to do was to make the other woman comfortable before jumping on where they left it last time they saw each other.

For example, Sharon hated profusely how Natasha couldn't stop from pacing the room like a caged animal when she ran out from things to do. She couldn't stand either that her favorite hobby was both mounting and unmounting things in the apartment, with Sharon having to buy two microwaves and one hairdryer once Natasha stayed with her for a few months. The other thing was to actually help doing house chores, because after a few incidents and Sharon saying that it was okay, that she could handle it in her own, Natasha thought she could put a bit more of attention to it.

She sighed heavily, feeling her chest full of things she knew that drive Sharon mad even when they didn't talk about them. It was going to be a hard task, but she was decided to make it work. It was something she owed to Sharon, a normal life.

A normal life.

A soft chuckle got muffled against her hand before closing her eyes. It was impossible to have a 'normal' life with their profession, even more when they were being chased by federals and a few private security companies. Natasha wished to have Clint by her side, to ask him about how the fuck he managed to hide his whole family from all and maybe to have a shoulder to rely on. She trusted Steve and Sharon, but Clint was there for her always. And she missed him. She really missed him.

In the middle of the storm that was her head, someone made her come back to Earth. A quick knock in the bathroom door that made her jump in her feet and unlock the door.

Sharon was there, sleepy and puffy eyes, her —now, Natasha swallowed hard again— dark hair messier than the night before and her hand over her wounded shoulder.

"I thought you took to your heels when I fell asleep," her voice was a bit husky and she licked her lips absent minded.

“Why would I do that?” Natasha’s smirk hid her nervousness, leaning forward to kiss her nose.

“I don’t know, you always runaway in my dreams,” her hand brushed away some strands of Natasha’s hair before pulling her in a hug, taking in count not be harsh and make her own wounds worse. “I’m glad you didn’t this time.”

A soft last whisper on top her head. A warm embrace that lingered in Natasha’s body even when Sharon broke apart and passed by her to get in the shower.

...

She felt like an alien hours later, sitting by Sharon's side at her neighbor’s house. The Italian woman that had asked Sharon if she was okay the night before was making them breakfast, and Sharon didn't seem awkward by the whole situation. Natasha felt uncomfortable though, with a toddler and a young woman staring curious at her from the other side of the table.

Sharon felt familiar with the older woman around, speaking in almost perfect Italian. Another thing that Natasha found funny was the sweet coincidence. Sharon moved to Finland, to the other side of the world, just to make friends like an old Italian immigrant who married a Finnish man and now was taking care of her grand-daughter and her toddler.

However, Natasha liked how the elderly woman treat her favorite agent as if she was her grandchild too. Even though she had to muffle a giggle every time the woman callrd Sharon by 'Elisabetta'.

New identities were always fun. It was like playing a game you only knew.

And playing roles with Sharon was the best. Natasha was now Nadja Redford, proud girlfriend of Elizabeth Martinelli, which had traveled all the way to Finland because her parents kicked her out after coming out to them. Natasha let Sharon build the role for her, only talking a shade of rusty Italian when it was needed —she understands but it's a big deal to talk, Natasha was cracking up inside, knowing her Italian was way better than Sharon's. Although she was finding sexy Sharon's Brooklyn accent under all the effort she was putting into the facade.

When they were safe again behind Sharon's apartment door, Natasha finally burst into laughter after holding it up during the whole thing.

"Nadja Redford is going to be one of my favorite identities," she said, walking to the kitchen to get a glass of water, rubbing away the pain in her stomach due to the laughter. "You are good at coming up with ideas, but you didn't tell me a thing about yours, Miss Elizabeth Martinelli."

Sharon didn't say a thing for a few seconds, only staring at Natasha. Being with someone close to her after this long felt strange to her, but it was reassuring. It still feels unreal, even putting up all that lie to build Natasha’s persona, but with time she would find herself comfortable again. Even with Natasha talking like they were on a mission.

“Elizabeth Martinelli lost her father on a lab incident, mom tried to move on but she end up living with her Nonna, an old movie star that worked as a governmental secretary when she got too old for the scene,” Sharon let herself fall in the individual sofa, a soft smile curving her lips. “When her Nonna died, Elizabeth moved to Finland, landing a job at Stark Industries new project as a security guard. Never heard of her mom after her tenth birthday.”

“Your nonna was lit,” Natasha chuckled, walking towards her. “Stark Industries?”

“Yeah, it was. A sunshine on Earth, my grandaunt used to say,” Sharon welcomed her, feeling the burn on her stomach pulling a bit when the other woman got comfortable in her lap. “Pepper helped me, she was the only one I could contact after Berlin. We put everything together within two days, maybe, and I moved in here by the end of the week. She is the only one knowing I’m here...well, and now you too.”

“Now everything makes more sense, Tony wouldn’t let his guard down after Vanko’s fiasco. He was actually hurt by me lying and sticking my nose into his files,” another chuckle and Sharon took her hand. “I respect Pepper a lot, but she isn’t that skilled in making her files unreadable. I put some more security up after taking what I needed. We are more safe now.”

They stayed in silence for a while, only playing with their hands and Natasha kissing Sharon's knuckles from time to time. Those times when they only acted sweet towards each other were the best. But something clicked on Natasha's mind, something that needed to be ask now that she noticed. Later Sharon would ask her about how exactly she found her aside of sniffing around things that didn't concern her.

"Elizabeth's grandaunt or Sharon's grandaunt?" she mumbled, looking directly at Sharon's eyes.

"Grandaunt is the same for both," Sharon looked troubled for a second, even with a faint smile over her lips. "I'm not ready to talk about it, Natalia. I just want to know how did you find me and what do you actually want," Natasha felt out of breath with how fast everything changed in Sharon's behavior. "And I want it now. Spit it out."

Natasha fell to the floor when Sharon stood up, hitting slightly her head with the border of the couch. That was plainly rude, but she had a point. She appeared in the middle of the night, somewhere none but two persons knew about and she actually said 'yeah' when Sharon told her she knew there was a motive behind her doing all this.

When she finally stood up, Sharon was looking at her from the open plan kitchen. Her hands gripped over the counter and with nothing but her agent self showing in her eyes. She was about to joke about Sharon having her gun with her, when the other woman put her favorite one over the counter as little reminder.

"Okay, let me take a s—" Sharon raised a brow and Natasha stood still in front of her, rubbing her hand over her eyes before start talking. "After Berlin I ran away before anyone could notice. Took my laptop and a few things before sprinting towards Poland. I knew someone on Warsaw that could actually help me get some new documents, so that was my first stop. I didn't last there, two weeks later I was on my way to Belarus."

Natasha sighed heavily, scratching her scalp a bit while Sharon stayed still.

"Some agents made me recognize that having red hair wasn't really okay if you are on the run," she took a few platinum strands of her hair. "So I left too when they found me near Latvia's frontier. Saint Petersburg isn't that far from where I was, so my feet lead me home." She let out a low chuckle that made her feel her eyes start to get teary. "I met with an old friend and he kept me safe for a couple months, while I was gathering enough information about the others. I wanted to join them in Wakanda," Natasha flashed a quick smile and put her hands behind her back. "But I found you while wandering in Tony's files. And I wanted to be with you."

"Being cheesy doesn't suit you," Sharon shook her head slowly, breaking the eye contact to look at the counter.

"It's the truth, Sharon," her voice lowered more when she said the name, showing the anger that was building up on her. "Can’t you believe in me? For once?"

Okay, she hadn't need to say that. It was unnecessary, she knew it. But this game of who push the other further was tiring her after three years of playing it. However, Sharon's eyes darted again to meet Natasha's and she took away her gun to put it on a drawer.

"For once?" Her voice was showing the true anger from someone that was slowly burning inside. "I believed in you when a bunch of aliens and a Nordic god tried to kill you and you told me it was over the night after; I believed in you the night you told me what you did to my legacy, telling me you were done with this life at the moment; I believed in you when you all landed in Washington, after destroying a whole city because Stark decided to play the mad scientist; I believed in you when you told me you wanted to settle down with me after the funeral," Sharon was crying at this point and Natasha looked down at the floor. "After every time I believe in you, you run away from me. And you just asked me to believe in you for once."

"I was trying to get intel about Tony and the others in real time when I got across your file, I guess Steve pulled the old protocol to protect them all because I didn't find shit," the truth told straight away was the way Natasha had to take in order to make Sharon believe in her. "I'd turned my back on Tony to help Steve and now I'm alone like always," Natasha sighed again before daring to look at Sharon. "And I rather be alone with someone that actually likes me than simply alone," Another chuckle and it was her turn to cry. "I guess I’ll take my stuff, I shouldn’t be here if you aren’t comfortable. It seems you don’t like me either after all...”

Sharon walked around the counter to take Natasha's hands. The only thing she did was holding her hands really tight before pulling them closer to kiss her fingers. Her lips were cold when she pulled Natasha in for a kiss. Cold, salty and wet.

“I like you,” Sharon’s voice was so low that Natasha thought she didn’t say a thing. “I love Nadja, I love Natasha, I love Natalia,” she could feel the brunette’s hands going up her arms to hold her better. “I love you and I only needed you to tell me the truth,” Sharon made her look at her, placing her hands in each side of Natasha’s face. “Clyde always told Bonnie the truth, right?”

Natasha didn’t know a single fuck about what that meant for Sharon, but she nodded. She nodded and then she felt herself pushing Sharon towards the master bedroom. She felt her own hands acting with care to not touch the wounds she inflicted. Sharon was all over her senses, from muffled moans to hands that roamed around her body with knowledge.

They always made up like that. They would sort things out, loose ends to take care of when the right time arrived. Eventually, when they both find themselves comfortable around each other again to let their guard down. And that was okay to them, because they didn’t know how to fix things without landing some punches and no-meant words.

With Sharon over her, Natasha thought they would have enough time this time around. Enough time to actually address each other properly.

Enough for Natasha to feel safe.

Enough for Sharon to feel secure.

She was going to scold the taller woman about living the frat-boy life. Yeah, she was going to put some order in her life, she couldn’t live off leftovers from the old Italian woman that lived under her nor having everything as if a bomb had just exploded in the middle of the master room forever.

But first she would take care of what was going on between her legs. 

[honey-bee-holly]

Reunion.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader.

Word count: 1542.

Warnings: None?

Posted: 4 November 2018.

Summary: Reader gets talked into going to her school reunion but it’s not as bad as she thought it’d be.

A/N: So I know I’ve been talking about working on a Tony Stark smut but A) it’s being a pain to write and B) this piece just came out of nowhere and I just went with it.

Masterlist.

“This is so stupid.” You mutter angrily to yourself, staring at the little card in your hands as you drink your morning tea.

“So are you going?” Nat asks as she places hers and Wanda’s plats down next to yours on the breakfast bar.

You scoff. “Doubt it.” You place the card on the counter.

You pick up a slice of crispy bacon from your plate and take a bite out of it before pointing to Nat. “There is no way I’m putting myself through that Nat, no way.”

“I think you should go.” Wanda says cutting up her bacon, fried egg and toast.

Nat huffs pointing her fork at you “See Wanda agrees with me, you should go.” She takes a angry bite out of her own toast.

“You guys don’t get it.” You sigh. “It was a really tough time for me back then, I didn’t have friends, everyone thought I was a freak…” You lean back into your seat and run a hand through your hair.

“But you’re not that girl anymore Y/N. You’re stronger, smarter and just completely better than you were.” Nat sighs before continuing “I just think you should face this head on and show them how far you've come.”

You bite your lip, fidgeting with your fingers as you stare at the card next to your breakfast.

“Y/N I do agree with Nat on this… you should face this, what’s the worst that could happen.” Wanda generally says as she reaches over to rubs your arm.

“Okay…” You sigh. “I’ll go.” You look up and give them more of a wince then a smile.

“Good.” They both say at the same time.

“We’ll help you pack and pick out a perfect outfit.” Nats smirks as she looks over your shoulder.

“God help me.” You mutter.

————————————-————————————-—————————

“Next.” A strawberry blonde haired woman calls from her table, looking at her clipboard.

“Uh hmm Y/N L/N.” You stutter as you take a few steps forward and slide up your black handbag backup your arm.

You’re surprised the lady didn’t give herself whiplash with how fast she turned her head towards you. Shock clearly covering her face.

“Woah.” She whispers as she looks you up and down. “Y/N L/N… you…Uh you look incredible.” ” She fumbles about to look for your name tag. 

“Thank you?” You smile gently and courageously at her.

“Oh it’s Jossie Turner, we had English and Maths together.” She says as she tuck her hair behind her ear.

“Yes yes I remember you use to write these amazing poems, do you still write?” 

“Thank you but uh no I don’t write anymore, I’m a stay at home mum”

“Oh that’s amazing, how old are they?”

“Suzie is 6 and Andy is 4.” 

Jossie sees your name tag on the far right corner of the table and picks it up to hands to you.

“Oh they must be lovely.” You say as you place your name tag on your left breast.

“Yea they are.” She smiles at you. “We should at catch up later, I’ll introduce you to my partner.”

“Yes yes of course. See ya in there Jossie.” You smile one last time before turning, taking in a deep breath and walking towards a set of double doors to the GYM/Canteen.

“Here goes nothing.” You sigh.

————————————-————————————-—————————

“Y/N L/N I’m surprised you actually came, I always thought you’d kill yourself.” God that voice hasn’t changed. You turn to face where the voice from.

“Jessica it’s nice to see you.” You fold your arms across your chest, frowning at the woman in front of you.

She scoffs angrily “Obviously.” Jessica rolls her eyes.

“Chelsea, Abby.” You nod to her friends, remembering the shit these three did to you back at school.

“You remember Alex right, of course you do you had the bestest crush on him back in the day.” She laughs at you. “Well you probably heard that we’re married now.” She smirks at you as her two sidekicks giggle.

“Nope but congratulations I guess.” You roll your eyes back at her.

“Are you here alone?” Abby asks looking around you.

Jessica scoff. “Of course she’s here alone, like anybody would want to date her.” 

“So Y/N what do you actually do for a living, probably something boring and stupid like yourself.” Jessica grins at you.

You feel a hand on your lower back “There you are sweetheart.” A familiar voice you've heard before asks.

 You turn and you come face to face with none other than Tony Stark.

Tony is dressed in a dashing black suit with a crisp white shirt and his normal messy hair is brushed back.

“Tony?” You blinked rapidly at him.

“Sorry I’m late.” He grins and kisses your cheek.

“Holy shit your Tony Stark.” Alex says in complete awestruck.

“That I am” Tony grins smugly at him. “And I see you know my Y/N.” He slides his hand to round to squeeze your hips

“No way.” Jessica glares. “There’s no way that you two are together.”

“But we are together.” Tony rolls his eyes at her as he pulls you tighter into his side. “And to answer your earlier questions ‘Y/N is an avenger and a incredible one at that, she also works in the labs with Banner and I, Hell I’d say she’s the second smartest person I know.” Tony looks down at you and grins “Shuri’s first.” He looks back at Jessica “I highly recommend that you and your little stuck up bitchy friends leave us both alone before you piss me off even more.”

Jessica let’s out a slightly high pitched angry squeak as she grabs hold of Alex’s arm and storms off towards you prosume was their table. 

“Yea, you two can follow your friend and leave.” Tony stares annoyed at the remaining two women in front of us.

“Are you just going to stare at me all night.” Tony looks down at you in his smug glory.

“What…” you take a deep breath, tugging on his arm to drag him towards a quieter corner “What are you doing ‘ere Tony? How did you even know ‘bout tonight?”

“I overheard you the other morning with Nat and Wanda and then did some digging, decided to fly out here.” Tony tugs you by the waist into his chest, holding you tight. “I didn’t want you to go through this alone.” 

“I uh I can’t believe you’d do this.” You wrap your arms around him.

Tony pulls back slightly to look down at you “I’d do anything for you.” He whispers as his right hand comes up to tuck a fallen piece of hair behind your ear.

You feel yourself lean more and more towards Tony, each breath feeling a little bit heavier.

“Y/N I’ve been looking for you.” Jossie cheerfully calls but stops short when she sees who is with you and how close you both are. “Sorry, was I uh interrupting something?” She looks back and forth between you.

“No no no.” You and Tony share a look as you both stutter out.

“Right?” Well shit you didn’t believe that, no way was Jossie.

“Well I just finished welcoming everyone and thought I’d come introduce you to my partner.” She waves to the tall pretty blonde next to her.

“Oh yes yes right.” You clear your voice stepping away from Tony slightly as you whip your hands on your dress. 

“This is my wife Nellie, Nellie this is Y/N.” You offer your hand out for Nellie to shake.

“It’s lovely to meet you, uh this is Tony.” You smile back at him as Tony shakes hands with both women.

“So are you two together or ?” Nellie asks politely.

“Uh.” You stare at her with flushed cheeks.

“Not yet but I’m hoping.” Tony says smiling down at you.

“Wait what.” You’re sure you've just given yourself whiplash with how fast you turned to him.

“Yea.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I was hoping, I’ve actually been trying for months now.” 

“Oh god was I being obvious to everything.” You worried your lip between your teeth.

“We’re gonna… go.” Your sure you hear Jossie say but not actually paying attention to anything other then the man in front of you.

“No no of course not.” Tony grabs hold of your biceps and tugs you towards him. “Every time I tried I’d back out last second, you deserve better.”

You scoff. “Who’s better than mister sassy pants Stark, who seen me literally at my worst and actually knows me better than anybody.” You smile up at him as you wrap your arms around his neck.

Tony slides his hands down your sides to wrap around your waist. “So does this mean you’d go out with me, we can go as fast or slow as you want or you know you can say no that’s uh fine.” A worried look falls onto his face.

“Like I’d say no to you.” You grin at him.

“You say no to me often actually.” He sasses you.

“You know what Stark shut up and kiss me already.” You roll your eyes with a laugh.

“Fuckin’ gladly.” 

@suz-123 @bolontiku @justreadingfics @tilltheendwilliwrite @amrita31199 @hellomissmabel @unicorns-and-fairy-dust

[aphroditestummyrolls]

For the prompt thing! @ihni , my BBY, here is the first of your prompts! This is 13 and 28! I hope you love them, tell me what you thiiiiink! ❤️

Every nerve in his body, it felt like, was alive with jitters. Billy wanted to punch someone, get in a fight, go for a run— anything to get rid of some of the intense energy building in his gut.

Fear. He couldn’t believe that of all the times to be driven through with fear, it would happen to him on the steps of the Byers house. It was a fucking stupid mistake to let Steve take him here. He was weak to agree in the first place.

“Hey, relax.” Steve said, soft and warm, taking his hand in his and squeezing “It’ll be an... adjustment. But once they know you like I do, they’ll love you like I do.”

The brunette looked so happy to have finally gotten Billy there— to his “family”— that he just couldn’t change his mind. He couldn’t let his Pretty Boy down.

Billy just nodded and tried a smile. Steve just smiled back, fidgeting nervously with Billy’s fingers in his hand and leaning in for one last kiss. It was a gentle press of lips on his, and Billy felt lighter and safer. He gripped the brunette’s hand tighter and melted into the kiss like there was no one on the other side of that door.

So it somehow managed to come as a surprise when that door was wrenched open, to Dustin fucking Henderson on the other side.

The cheeky smile the little shit had had at the sight of Steve dropped off his face in record time.

“No. Not you, anyone but you.” He said, going from shock, to disbelief, to rage. “What the fuck— the actual fuck— Steve, you can’t be serious!”

This was off to a great start, Billy thought. He tried to extricate his hand from the other boy’s then, but Steve only held him tighter.

The tension was palpable, but Steve just held up his free hand placatingly “Things are different now, kid. You gotta trust me on this.”

The swell of pride in his chest was almost too much to handle without grinning like a lovesick idiot. He would never say it out loud, but part of Billy had expected Steve to ditch him at the door. Part of him thought Steve would distance himself to cling to some semblance of heterosexuality, but if anything, it was the opposite. The brunette held his hand and led him into the small house, right past Henderson and all the other slack jawed twerps that had been alerted by Henderson’s loud cursing.

“Steve, who’s this?” A small woman came up to him, oven mitts on. She smiled with genuine warmth and Billy soaked that up like a flower looking up at the sun. Her eyes were sparkling like she knew who he was— at least, who he was to Steve— already.

“Joyce, this is Billy.” Steve smiled back. He was clearly relieved to see her, and Billy had never immediately trusted someone the way he trusted Joyce in that moment “He’s my boyfriend.”

“Billy, what the Hell?” Max cried, incredulous. Billy didn’t even spare her a glance.

“Don’t trust him, Mrs. B— he’s a fucking psycho!” the dark haired tall boy piped up. Steve whipped his head around to glare at the kid.

Over Joyce Byers’ shoulder, he could see the gawping faces of Princess Wheeler and Jonathan. A tall, gruff looking guy with a cigarette hanging from his lips was paused near the back door, taking him in.

Billy wanted so badly to just disappear. He wanted to look down at his boots until this was over and pretend he wasn’t a fucking spectacle. Steve stroked his knuckles with his thumb, jaw set stubbornly.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Billy.” Joyce touched his shoulder, sensing the tension. It was pretty much impossible not to, really. “Dinner’s just about ready— would you boys help me set the table?”

It got them away from the kids, at least, who let out a calamitous protest that grated on the remains of Billy’s patience.

“Hey, hey! Pipe down, relax—“ the man was saying, almost bored over the sound of all those little shitheads.

Lucas Sinclair called something called a “Party Meeting”, and they disappeared to Will’s room.

Joyce handed them forks and knives, plates, everything they would need, and left them to it while she and Jonathan finished up dinner prep.

“They’ll get used to it.” Steve said after setting out plates, setting his hand on the back of Billy’s neck as he folded a napkin so hard it tore.

“I’m fine, Harrington-“

“Really? Are you sure about that? You just give off the impression that you want to murder everyone you look at.” He chuckled, but Billy didn’t find it too fucking funny.

“Don’t say that too loud, Asshole— Henderson’ll call the fucking cops, or something.” He snapped, more harsh than he meant to be.

“And why would he do that?” The gruff man from earlier said, leaning in the threshold of the dining room.

Billy and Steve both took a couple steps back from each other. He strode up to Billy and extended a hand that the blonde was careful not to visibly flinch away from.

“Chief Jim Hopper, kid. You’re Billy?” He shook the offered hand. Steve had outed them to a cop, was he out of his goddamn mind?

Billy just gave a cocky half a smirk, hiding the alarm bells telling him to run like Hell away from this house and all the people in it that hated his guts.

“Billy Hargrove.” He nodded. Steve was chewing anxiously on his fingernails.

God, what a shitshow.

Sitting down to eat was a blessing and a curse. Clutching at Steve’s hand under the table, Billy took a slow bite of chicken and hated himself.

He actually wanted these people to like him, damnit. But, with all those kids watching him like he was a ticking bomb, Steve’s ex girlfriend sitting across from him, and the chief of the fucking police staring him down, Billy was starting to feel pretty hopeless.

Joyce was his one reprieve, asking “So Billy, you and Max are siblings?” and “Where in California are you from?”

He answered all the questions with as much charm as he could force while Steve fiddled with Billy’s hand under the table.

Max was looking at him, studying him all through dinner with the curly haired girl with the big eyes. Both of them were damn near looking right through him and he was acutely aware of how badly he needed a cigarette. If Max breathed a word of this to Neil, he’d fucking kill her, and he made sure to send her a glare that said that.

She just looked right back at him though, adding to the tension boiling over in the worn out dining room.

He finally escaped back to the front porch after they finished eating. Pacing and clenching his muscles, Billy took a long drag on his smoke and let himself revel in the relief of the hot burn in his lungs. He let the chilly spring evening nip at his skin, and tried to get himself together. He felt like he hadn’t properly breathed in the 2 hours since stepping into the Byers house.

When the door opened, he expected it to be Steve. But when he turned to look, there was a spark of anger igniting him all the way to his toes.

It was Henderson and his gaggle of brats.

“Well, if it isn’t the Fellowship of the fucking Ring.” He deadpanned, sucking down a lungful of smoke to tamp down his rage.

If any of them got the reference— which of course they would, look at those dweebs— they ignored him.

“What’s your angle with Steve?” Dustin said, trying to be tough.

“You’re asking me what my intentions are with your precious babysitter?” Billy replied, arching an eyebrow and blowing smoke in the little twerps face “What or who Steve Harrington does in his spare time is none of your business—“

“Just get out of here and leave him alone, you psycho!” That was the tall kid again.

“Who are you, again?” He sassed back, knowing full well that that must be Wheeler’s brother.

The kid just rolled his eyes at him “Fuck you, Hargrove!”

“Steve’s been through enough!” Sinclair cut in.

Throughout his berating from the Scooby Doo gang, Billy noticed something. Max was silent, looking almost embarrassed. Little Will Byers was staring at his shoes, and that curly little thing was still just staring at him. This was a pretty half assed intimidation tactic.

“Hey assholes!” The door opened again, flooding the step with a moat of yellow light. Steve was standing there with a dish towel over his shoulder, his lips pursed like he had smelled a rat. “What’re you doing?”

“Defending your honor!” Henderson shot back, as if it was obvious. “You’ve taken complete leave of your fucking senses!”

The brunette stepped out into the cool night “Taken leave of my— who even fucking says that, Dude?” He cried “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I’m happy?”

Happy. Steve was happy, Steve was defending Billy at the very house that he’d beaten him in. Something melted in Billy’s heart, and he finished off his smoke to hide the swell of emotions. He made Steve Harrington happy.

The whole train wreck of a night was suddenly worth every second.

Steve shooed the twerps back into the house “Go play Atari or something, leave Billy alone, Jesus Christ, guys...”

Billy grinned at the other boy, batting his eyelashes comically “Steve Harrington, you’re my hero. How will I ever repay you?”

Steve’s grin back was bright, and defeated the purpose of his eye roll “Yeah yeah— I can think of a couple ways.” His eyes sparkled, going a little dark even at the joking insinuation of sex, because Steve Harrington was an insatiable motherfucker.

“You guys are gross.”

Max was still standing there, hovering by the door.

“Then why are you listening, Maxine?” Billy replied, at the end of his rope.

“This is why you’ve been so nice lately, isn’t it?” She continued, not caring that she was ruining a moment “Apologizing to me and Lucas, driving me to the arcade.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged, taking hold of Steve’s fidgeting hand.

“If Neil catches you, he’ll make us move again.”

Billy rolled his eyes, not saying that if Neil found out this time, he’d skip the moving part and just beat Billy to death. He fucking wanted to, but instead he hissed out “Then I guess we shouldn’t tell him.”

Max nodded, like she was finally understanding something. She looked from their hands to their faces and back again.

“You’re still gross— but I’m happy for you, Billy.”

And maybe for that night, that was as good they were gonna get. That was fine with Billy.

[xoruffitup]

Just want to flail over Adam’s parts? People, I AM HERE FOR YOU. Here’s a time-stamped cheat sheet of Adam’s comments and generally precious moments. (Basically Round 2 of my overall flaily recap of this panel right after it happened.)

I start the video and my heart freaks out remembering when he first walked on stage. Get me a paper bag before I pass out... His little ‘Hello!’ and one-handed wave when he walked out I was already deceased.

1:35 - Everyone please just watch this adorable tall man awkwardly sit and fidget and bite his lip and make his oh god public attention face

11:25 - Adam makes no judgments about his character’s morality. He empathizes more with Ben Stiller’s character in the While We’re Young film than with his own, but recognizes that his own feelings about the character are irrelevant; as are his feelings about his own performance. 

“It’s not about me feeling it, it’s about an audience feeling it.”

I’m constantly struck by his humility and maturity in always thinking of himself as only a small part in every film project, regardless of how large his role might be. He’s hyper-aware that none of it is about him, and becomes uncomfortable when people try to make it so. Although he explains here that he relates to the “debilitating” pressure to play a role correctly or authentically, and we know that he constantly over-thinks and scrutinizes his own work to the point of not being able to watch himself on film; He also recognizes his personal gratification with his performance comes second to the overall story being told. Internally, he might hold himself to high personal standards, but he never presumes those standards should be projected on anyone else. He finishes this answer with “Who am I to say if they’re right or wrong?” (If audiences respond to a less authentic version of a work.)

I would love to hear him answer this same question about Kylo’s character.

27:50 (One of the moments when I had to physically restrain myself from flailing in my seat because he’s so damn presh) - The moderator tried to “bring back Adam” because he’d hardly spoken so far, and Adam goes “I’m good, I’m good.” Ben Stiller interjected, “Can I just say something about acting with Adam?” and Adam immediately shakes his head and waves his hand in a silent “Please no”, but then very magnanimously tells Ben to go ahead, even while squirming in his seat a tiny bit while Ben talked about him. 

29:00 - Adam says Noah’s writing is very “theatrical.” I did find it interesting how he talked here about a whole range of different potential meanings within the same words of a script, depending on how they’re delivered. I also love when he talks about working in theatre, just because I have a soft spot for stage actors. 

(Watching this whole video back makes me realize Adam really did quite effortlessly and unconsciously charm the audience (not just me), even speaking so little compared to the other panelists. I remembered clearly when he had his ~showdown with the moderator towards the end the audience was 100% on his side, clapping for him, but generally there are so many audience laughs for the little self-deprecating jokes Adam mixes into all his answers.)

31:10 (Alert alert, fangirl moment) - Perfect capture of how he fiddles with his fingers and listens so attentively. 

33:28 - THAT L A U G H

35:08 - My other favorite funny/presh moment! “There’s humor in doing the same things in life and still trying to make them more efficient... Like I still don’t think I’ve ever gotten into a car the right way.” (Confused audience laughter?) Then Adam gets serious with chagrin right away like “...that was a bad example...” (Audience continues laughing with him even though most people probably don’t get it.) He made a last-ditch effort to explain himself by saying “the Tesla” - but didn’t quite get to fully explain that he was referring to the uber-modern Tesla car that was driving him around the island over the weekend. Regardless, everyone found it amusing and I was there like I stan a man who can’t get into a car right WHAT A GEM

36:27 (Alert alert, another fangirl moment) - Everyone please just watch him take a drink of water. Why every single damn thing he did was totally mesmerizing to me I don’t know, but you’ll thank me later. 

46:13 - The moderator mentions Paterson screened at the Nantucket Film Festival several years ago. Adorable moment where he goes to start listing all the famous people from Paterson and has to give up with “...and a bunch of other people I can’t remember right now.”

47:10 - Hilarious moment but first strike against the narrator. Ben Stiller had to ask Chris Matthews if Paterson was the first movie he’d seen Adam in because yeah, he’d kind of been neglecting Adam a bit (not that Adam minded, clearly), but Ben went “...he’s also in Star Wars,” and the whole place cracked up. 

49:10 - Non-Adam moment, but I was really intrigued with Noah Baumbach’s comment here, talking about developing his dialogue and how “there’s communication, and then there’s talking.”

50:10 - THIS IS IT, FOLKS, THE GOLD MINE OF ADAM CHARM AND SASS. THE LEGENDARY MOMENT IS NEARING. Watch Adam’s life flashing before his eyes in a panic when the question “Who is the most influential person in your life” is suddenly thrown at him. He wasn’t ready for this!! (Although great question, Rea, so glad it was asked!) Then after he says he’ll pass on the question, you can see him basically flying to Mars in his head pondering. Then the cuteness and laughter when he announces he does have an answer!! He was 1000% the whole audience’s darling by this point. Then his answer is basically, “Listen to how insightful my wife is because she’s the best.” Then after boasting about his wife it’s right back to his modest self: “On to the next question and then I’ll finish this monologue...”

LOOK, okay he wasn’t even talking for that long! He’d given what, 3 answers before this during the whole hour-long panel?! The moderator himself blabbed at least twice as much. I was loving this monologue because it was the first time Adam was actually talking for an extended time. But apparently we can’t have nice things becomes here comes Mr. Rude-ass, Clueless Moderator...

(Also, Ben and Noah were 100% engaged with what Adam was saying so literally this was only the moderator’s problem...)

52:32 - The moderator audibly sighs into his microphone in the middle of Adam’s “monologue” and I’m SO glad Adam unpretentiously called him out: “.....Are you bored by my answer?” The whole audience laughed in sympathy with him because it was so weird and rude? Then Adam went on to be even more of a clever QT like: “You were thinking about another question? That’s what I was doing during your answers...” And the man is so straight-faced about it you genuinely can’t even tell if he purposefully meant that well-done, five-course ROAST. 

I cringe so hard at this memory I can barely watch it back, but ughhhh queue the moderator interrupting Adam’s attempt to resume his answer, with some bullshit about Jeff Goldblum... What even? Jeff Goldblum was mentioned once in the panel previously, but wtf how does your mind go there when Adam Driver is giving a painfully earnest, precious, and over-thought monologue for you???

52:50 - “...SO STAR WARS.” BOOM. In three words Chris Matthews has been KO’d. omg look at the almost proud look on Noah’s face like yeah you tell him bb and Ben’s cracking up, and the whole audience flips out like DAMN, SAVAGE!!!

(Also for ~context reference, walking out from the auditorium afterwards, I remember overhearing two guys saying to each other “Chris Matthews was like one of those old guys who just blurts whatever’s going through his head.” “Yeah but you’d think when you’re talking to Adam Driver you’d be more respectful and reign it in.” and in my head I was like DAMN RIGHT. Watching this whole thing back, Matthews gets on my nerves basically the whole time. He seems to enjoy hearing himself talk so much that he forgot what a moderator’s actual job is.)

58:40 - Adam’s advice to aspiring filmmakers about the usefulness of going to school, getting a firm foundation in your craft, and having the insulated space to fail and build yourself. 

Just so I can ~complete my revisiting of this whole experience~, I’ll add this photo taken by @wherethepastaat aka Rea aka https://twitter.com/cosmicreas in the parking lot outside after the event. I love her for asking the incredible question that gave us a world-class #SassybutClassy Adam moment, and also for snapping this A+ covert photo documenting the referenced Tesla car that caused Adam so much stress about how to get in it correctly. (Joanne’s getting in before him.)

I also owe her my firstborn because she inadvertently GOT ME IN THE PHOTO WITH ADAM!! That shoulder in the pink tank top directly behind him? THAT’S ME. THAT’S ME AND ADAM. IN THE SAME PHOTO. DEEP BREATHING, OKAY. Now I can always prove that I really was that close to him! (He came by even closer when he walked down the sidewalk. No, a month later I still have not gotten over it even .00001% percent.) 

Admittedly, there have been brief moments where I berate myself like ‘ugh why didn’t you ask for a photo?!’ but A) I was frozen in awe for the 10 seconds he was in front of me (pretended to be on my phone so I wasn’t overtly staring, lol) and B) You can see in this photo that there were a bunch of people milling around. If I’d asked him to stop, he probably would have gotten stuck taking pics with lots of people. I did the right thing AND got to witness more wholesome Adam moments as he was leaving!

Once again, Rea I owe you a gift basket because I am SO glad I got to witness when you/your brother called ‘Bye!’ to Adam from your car and your dad called “Hi Kylo!” and ADAM RESPONDED, smiled and waved and said ‘Hi Thanks!’ back. IT WAS SO PURE I CRY AT THE MEMORY.

All in all, despite the fact that Adam didn’t actually talk that much on the panel, it was still a 100% Quality Event and I still think about it daily. :’) My Adam crush has morphed into an all-consuming real-life thing that I do my best to control but look, a girl can only do so much in the face of THIS. I AM ONLY HUMAN, ADAM.

[dreamyjayb]

HEY.mp3 | Mark

A/N: So, I decided to do this thing where I write a scenario that are inspired by GOT7 songs for each of the members.

Word Count: 688

Warnings: None

A frustrated Mark clenches his phone as he hears you fighting with your significant other, again. Mark, although very quiet, isn’t afraid to express his feelings especially when it comes to frustration. He isn’t the type to tell you what to do, but when he feels helpless it angers him. He likes to be in control of his surroundings and it’s a challenge when it comes to you.

You hang up the phone after, yet another, heated argument with your boyfriend.

“He’s such an...ugh!” You yell, aggressively throwing yourself on the couch next to Mark. His eyes glued to the television set in front of him. His left hand clenching his phone and his right hand clenched in a fist. He heard everything that was said as you’ve put the phone call on speaker. He stays silent, allowing you to release your anger in peace. That didn’t happen though. You start venting to Mark, getting him involved.

“What do you even like about him because I don’t get it.” He glances over at you, but quickly fixates his eyes back to the rerun playing.

“You didn’t like any of my boyfriends; it’s not a surprise you don’t like him, too.” You sass, not meaning to but you were upset.

“And you still didn’t answer my question,” Mark sasses back.

You knew you couldn’t out do Mark when it comes to savagery, so you do as he says.

“I don’t know, when he isn’t like this, he’s a sweet person.” You slightly gush at the thought of your boyfriend, even though he’s still pissing you off.

Mark rolls his eyes and inhales deeply. “He’s a dick,” he states, in a matter of fact sort of way.

“Yeah...sometimes, but he can b—” you get cut off by Mark who, at this point, doesn’t care about how his words come off.

“Stop making excuses for his horrible behavior. He doesn’t love you, otherwise he wouldn’t be acting the way he has been. He wouldn’t have said the things he said. I don’t know why you can’t see that,” Mark’s tone is assertive and yet strangely put together. It feels like he’s telling you facts, which - to be fair - he is.

Taken aback at his words, you sit there in silence, replaying everything he’s said on a loop. Mark is right. Your boyfriend has shown signs of wanting out of the relationship but you always felt the need to work it out and keep it going. You figured it was easier to allow him to continue his actions than to start over with someone new.

Mark notices your quietness and begins to feel he may have been too harsh with his words.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a mean way, it’s just…” he pauses, trying to gather his thoughts. He turns to you, one leg on the couch and the other hanging off. “I can see that you’re having a tough time with him, but there’s not much I can do but listen to you go off about your relationship problems. And every time I hear about him, all I can do is get angry. You deserve better is all I’m saying.”

“You say I deserve better, but the only ‘better’ person I can think of is you.” You point to Mark and flash him a cheeky smile, trying to lighten up the mood.

Mark light heartedly shrugs his shoulders. “I’ve been saying that this whole time, but you chose him over me so…” he bites down on his bottom lip and smiles, showing his pearly whites.

You teasingly shove his shoulder and shake your head. He reciprocates by throwing a pillow at you and it hits your face. You place it on your lap, thinking about what to say next. Before you could think of anything, Mark moves right beside to you and places his arm around your shoulders.

“I care about you, a lot.” He says softly in your ear. “Don’t let him damage you beyond repair.”

Mark pulls you closer into him, his arm still around your shoulders and his head leaning against yours.

[phenomenal-forearm]

Seth Rollins NSFW Alphabet

As you can see, this was requested by a lovely nonnie. It has to be said that the requests that I know I can complete the fastest will be done first. That doesn’t mean I won’t do my other requests; because ya boy got some smut in the works. Totally not a Roman one...

Anywho... I haven’t done one of these ever so you guys will have to let me know how you feel about it because I love to hear feedback. This will loosely be based off my headcanons for the guy so yeah.

This took me not as long as I expected, and I really enjoyed it. Don’t be afraid to request anything!

A - Aftercare: He’s pretty good at it, its probably shocking to some people to hear it too. He’ll clean you up after, pull the blankets over you, play with your hair and talk to you into you fall asleep. Usually he talks absolute nonsense to you, or just talk about his day, because you’ll probably be to tired to answer. Though he knows his voice helps lull you to sleep, so that’s why he does it.

B - Body Part: His favorite body part of yours are your lips. He knows how talented you are with your mouth, and it drives him insane when you bite your lip; more than he cares to admit. 

C - Cum: He just doesn’t care. He will cum wherever; on your chest, face, stomach, thighs, in you. Just as long as he gets to cum.

D - Dirty Secret: He hasn’t told you; and he doesn’t know if he will, but he’s always wanted you to dominate him one time. When you were both going at it; you on top, he didn’t expect you to pin his arms over his head, and he’s almost embarrassed to say that he almost moaned out loud at it. So he’d like to see if he likes it, but he has no clue on coming out with it.

E - Experience: You don’t just look like that and have no experience. That’s all i’m saying. I’d say he’s experienced, very. Probably was a grade A fuckboy. But he’d enjoy learning everything about your body, what makes you moan and write. In general; he is experienced. 

F - Favourite position: If he’s feeling particularly impatient, he’ll pin you up against a wall or counter.

If he’s being gentle then he’ll want to see your face and kiss you the whole time. So good ol’ missionary.

G - Goofy: He strikes me as the kind of guy who would tell you a really bad joke in the middle of sex. 

H - Hair: If you’ve seen the picture then you’ll know. There’s no guesses needed there.

I - Intimacy: If he’s in the right mood then he will be very intimate. He’s usually a very intimate guy anyway.

J - Jack Off: Now he’s with you, he doesn’t like to do it as much. But if it comes to it; like he’s away and you’re not there with him, then he will. But he usually gets off to the thought of you.

K - Kink: Hair pulling. He doesn’t know why but something about hair pulling while doing the dirty deeds will really get him off. There’s just something so aggressive and needy when you do it. 

L - Location: Anywhere. At. All.

M - Motivation: Your voice. Whether it’s you sassing him or just sounding all sexy when you’re trying to turn him on. He just loves how you sound. 

N - No: I don’t think he’d be into hurting you. So no extreme kinks like knife play, hardcore bdsm.

O - Oral: This is a tough one. Because he loves going down on you, to him it’s almost as good as the sex itself. But, what guy doesn’t enjoy receiving you know?

P - Pace: Can either be rough or gentle, depends on the mood you’re both in. If you were to have teased him for the whole day for example, you would be in for a fun night of hair pulling (from both of you), spanking, maybe choking and scratching. 

However, if you wanted it to be gentle. That’s a whole other story. He would lay you down on the bed, and cherish your whole body, whispering how much he loves you and appreciates everything you do. Lots of hand holding, smiles and long kisses.

Q - Quickie: He’s all for it. Whenever, wherever. Either one of you will drag the other into a random room/office. He prefers it when you do it to him when he’s at work, something about you being dominant gets him going. 

R - Risk: He doesn’t care where you do it, as long as you do it. The thrill of being caught does do something to him though, so you both will probably fuck in public places more than you care to admit. 

S - Stamina: I have already said it once and I will not hesitate to scream it from the rooftops. 3+ rounds, orgasm after orgasm people. He just doesn’t stop. Not until he knows you are both well and truly fucked. 

T - Toy: He will probably have a few bits and pieces. I’m not gonna call him an outright Christian Grey, but it doesn’t mean he has none. 

U - Unfair: SETH ROLLINS IS THE ULTIMATE TEASE PEOPLE THERE IS NO WAY AROUND IT SO JUST ACCEPT THE FACT OKAY.

V - Volume: He’s kinda loud. Mostly due to all the dirty talking he does, but he’ll moan and groan plenty too. Especially when you pull his hair.

W - Wild Card (random headcanon): One of the hottest things he’s ever seen was the morning after, he woke up, went to the kitchen and saw you there in his shirt singing and dancing to Blink-182. It’s also the moment he knew you were the one; he won’t tell you that yet because he’s afraid you’ll break up with him at some point.

X - X-Ray: If you’ve seen the picture then you already don’t need me to tell you.

Y - Yearning: His yearning is pretty high. I’m like 70% sure of that fact, and you should be too.

Z - ZZZ: I could imagine him falling to sleep as soon as it’s over, but at the same time I can imagine him just playing with your hair until you fall asleep, then he’d fall asleep.

[geminimoonbeamx]

Electric Feel: Part One

A/N: Alright you guys so last night I re-watched the movie ‘Savages’. You know, the one with Quicksilver and Serena Vander-Woodsen in it? Yeah, it totally rekindled my love for Polyamorous relationships and after reading a fuck ton of amazing Stucky one’s this site, I decided I just had to write my own. This is going to be a short series. Only five or so parts of fluff and smut. Smut with plot, but smut none the less lol. Enjoy ya’ll. Steve/OC/Bucky

CURRENTLY ON HOLD. WILL RECONTINUE IN 2018

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Heavy mentions Panic disorder, Anxiety, Depression and use of Prescription Drugs. Mental health/illness will be a heavy topic in this one so if it triggers you, I’m sorry my beautiful buttercups but this story might not be the one for you. Cussing because I have the worst mouth and my vocab is made up of four letter words.

Story Summary: Y/N, an overworked plus size model, is struggling to balance her career and her worsening panic disorder. Moving into Avengers Tower, at her Aunt Peppers request, was supposed to relieve some of the stress. She never expected to find solace in the arms of not one, but both of the Towers resident super soldiers

✨✨✨✨✨✨

Dragging yourself across the lobby of ‘Avengers Tower’ you feel absolutely numb. The static in your head seemed far away, like a station you just couldn’t tune into. Not that you wanted to. No, you’d take this reprieve, this moment of nothingness happily. At least you felt like you could breathe, like your lungs we’re actually working again, doing the simplest of tasks.

Jesus. How sad is that? That your actually happy you could breathe normally? The most natural thing a human could do, and yet even that seemed like a heralding task to you lately.

“Hello Ms. Y/N” The receptionist at the circular desk greeted as you passed and on queue you forced a smile on your face.

You’d gotten good at it by now, so good, that the woman didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary and went on with her work. Typing away at who knows what. It was nearly thirty minutes past 10. What could Tony have her working on so late? Whatever, you deduce. Whatever it was, you knew she was probably getting paid beautifully for it.

And wasn’t that the point of it all? What made the world go round?

Money is the reason we exist. Everybody knows it, it’s a fact. Kiss, kiss.

You recite to your self as you push your floor button on the elevator and lean back heavily on the rail. It’s only when the doors shut, leaving you in the solitary, boxed in space, that you let the smile fall off of your face, your cheeks felt relieved. The daily strain on your cheeks from holding that fake, plasticine smile sucked and as your face sagged you feel the most yourself.

“You have one major case of resting bitch face, kid” You remember Tony laughing at you years ago. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t heart a thousand times before. Your features we’re naturally…sharp. Moody. Your full lips instinctively pulled down at the corners unless you were either A)genuinely smiling or B) putting on that mask that you’d perfected.

In your line of work, resting bitch face was both a blessing and a curse. That pout of yours, yeah it had scored you a lot of high end jobs. Shooting for A-list magazines with renound photographers. Making you a bit of a “hot commodity” in the modeling world. But it had also earned you a reputation. Everyone had this image of you; thought you we’re extremely bitchy and stuck up. It was already hard, working in the modeling community. Plus size modeling was just starting to boom, to become a norm but even you didn’t fit some of the major guidelines. At well over two hundred pounds and barley reaching 5'3, you we’re an unusual peice for the industry in the first place.

Having everyone think you we’re a high maintenance, hard to work with cunt- well that didn’t help either.

They just didn’t know you, which you almost laughed at because isn’t that what everyone’s excuse is? ‘They don’t know me, I’m so misunderstood’.

Fuck, you we’re a walking cliché, you chide yourself.

Most who met you tended to think you we’re “stuck up” because a good chunk of the time you we’re so stuck in your own head that you couldn’t focus on anyone around you. Trying to breath, trying to focus on anything but the near constant bubble of nervousness that never seemed to leave your stomach. Running through your therapists guide list on how to avoid your next panic attack.

In truth, when most got to know you they were honestly shocked at your goofy, nerdy nature. Those few people, who tried to delve under the surface, we’re greeted with a girl who could make a joke out of just about anything and would rather stay in bed and binge on Star Wars movies and buffalo wings(well maybe no one would be surprised about that your love of chicken wings, you think humorously. Bitterly)

It hadn’t always been this bad, you recite to yourself. It would get better, you encourage.

When you get to your floor, all you want to do is go to sleep. The thought of having to have to drone through any other kind of human interaction physically made you wince.

Most of the time, you didn’t mind the floor you we’re on. Actually, you quite liked your “floor mates”. Yeah, it had been a little weird at first being “bunked” with all guys, but you’d soon found that you wouldn’t have wanted to be placed anywhere else. Steve, Sam and Bucky we’re good to you, yeah they babied you a little and left messes in the living room, but you had your own hoard of annoying tendencies and still, they never treated you like anything but…family.

Like the older brothers you never wanted- while simultaneously being the little brothers you had DEFINATLEY never fucking wanted because Jesus Christ, who had left the empty Oreo package in the middle of the floor? You bend down, almost robotically, to pick it up.

Steve and Bucky are lounging on opposite sides of the long couch, watching some sports show that you didn’t really care to know. You barley notice them, and you really hope that they’re not going to notice you. That they’re too invested in the game on the mammoth flat screen-

“Hey, babydoll. How was work?”

No dice. Not that you’d really thought for a second they we’re just going to ignore your entrance.

The smile, that smile, you plaster on is almost painful.

They both look up at you, Bucky’s head slightly cocked as he waits for an answer.

“It was fine, I’m really tired though. I’m going to change”

To anyone else your tone would have sounded pleasant. Tired, but normal.

To Steve, it’s a big red flag. Gone is the usual bite in your voice, the giggle. The light. You sound…monotone. Like you weren’t really there at all. And that’s what really makes him look at you, take you in. The bags under your eyes are pronounced, even with the makeup that adorns your skin. Your posture is rigid and you look like you might strain a muscle just from standing there but it’s your eyes that confirm it for him. He’d seen that look in them many a time before. He feels the tug on his heart strings as you hurry out of the room.

When Steve turns his head to Bucky, the mans eyes are still glued on your retreating frame. But the look on his face matches the one Steve knew he himself was sporting.

You’d had another hard one. Another attack. Being ‘roomies’ with you meant that they we��re no stranger to your illness, they’d experienced first hand what you went through on a near day to day bases. Hell, Bucky went through his fair share of his own. But it never ceased to put a felling akin to stones in their throats to see you in that state

“I want to go check on her, man” Bucky announces “She looked real rough”

Steve shook his head. They’d been through this. The trial and error of it all.

“Nah, pal. You know she’ll freak out if you go after her right now…let her go cool off” Steve reminds his friend. Didn’t he remember the last time…it hadn’t gone over well.

Bucky sighs through his nose and nurses the beer bottle in his hand. He knew what it was like, what she was going through and it made it worse, the thought of her feeling even a fraction of the strain that he himself frequently endured had him tied in knots. He felt like he had to get up, and go to her. And check on her and make sure that she was playing on her phone like she liked to do, laughing at some meme he knew she’d show him later and not curled up in a corner.

He still winces at that mental image. When he’d found her in the kitchens with her hands over her eyes and her knees pulled up to her chest.

“I’m worried about her, too” Steve’s voice cuts through the silence. He can see the cogs working in Bucky’s head.

Bucky nodded, chewing on the inside of his lip. Yeah, he knew.

Knew that they we’re both royally fucked.

And had been for a while now. Because nothing good could come from the way that they both felt about you. He’d never really thought about it before. Maybe, even though it was a little screwed up, it was because back in the forties he could run circles around Steve when it came to girls. Back then he’d never be in competition with the him. Plus Steve had always loved dark haired dames and Bucky had a thing for Redheads, so he never really thought there would be a day when they a single woman caught both pairs of their eyes.

And then came you. When Bucky had learned Pepper’s niece was coming to live at the compound he’d never in his wildest dreams could have imagined you. All ass and sass and bambi eyes. All understanding touches and long talks in the middle of the night when neither of you could sleep because your brains just wouldnt turn off. You seemed to understand him in a way that he didn’t even understand himself.

You’d snuck up on Bucky…

Steve was different. He’d met you a handful of times before you’d moved in. You were Peppers niece, after all, so you’d been around the tower. Never staying for long- just long enough to throw him that smile. To flip your sheet of hair over your shoulder and be the sweetest thing he’d ever encountered. You rotted his teeth. You brought out the side of him, the one that was foreign to everyone but Bucky.

You hadn’t snuck up on Steve. You’d hit him like a god damn freight train.

And it yet no one was willing to admit it, even though it was nearly palpable. The three of you went on, holding onto a friendship that seemed to keep all of you a float.

Because Bucky needed Steve. It wasn’t a fact he was ignorant to. He needed his best friend if he had any hope of ever truly getting back to the man he’d once been and Steve needed him back. The only link he had to his true self. To the man behind the shield.

So, they kept it unspoken. They didn’t even talk about it to each other, which if you knew Bucky and Steve you’d know was in-fucking-sane because those two told eachother EVERYTHING. Neither of them we’re willing to risk the century long friendship.

Hell no…

But did they really even have to say it? Steve witnessed the way you touched Bucky, your hands trailing over him in something liken to worship and Bucky noticed the way you sought out Steve. The way you needed him, the way you looked at him like he was the sun.

Funny thing? It didn’t make either of them jealous, there was no animosity. No hurt feelings just…need.

Need of what? Neither of them knew.

And so, almost simultaneously, they both tipped their beer bottles back heavily, the screen illuminating their faces. They could lie to themselves. But they never did get the hang of lying to each other.

You stand in the shower for what feels like ages, allowing the scorching water to rush over you. Trying to practice those visionary exercises you’d worked on in therapy. Letting all of the negativity swirl down the drain. When you exit the glass, walk in shower you feel a little better. When you go to your bedside table and pop one of the tiny, yellow pills in your mouth, that helps even more. You’d learned long ago to take your medicine. You would question taking Dayquil when you had a could, so why would you do that in this case?

You didn’t need to feel ashamed for having to use medicine. You repeated yourself that daily, still. It was such a stigma, you we’re still working through it.

You pull a pair of sliky pink pajama shorts up your curvy legs. They we’re your favorite ones, the little cactus’ print always made you smile and then threw on an oversized grey sweater, the one you’d had for years. The littering of holes on the bottom of the sleeves was just proof to your immense love for it. You then brushed through your mess of wet hair, getting out all of the snarls, working through the small kinks before you slathered on your face serum’s and body lotions.

You had to do this.

Because your job required you to take care of your appearance and because your therapist assured you that taking care of yourself even when you felt low was one of the keys to happiness. To getting through it…and you would get through it.

When your finish your nightly routine you stare at yourself in the vanity mirror for a minute or two or five.

You look like a fucking eleven year old without makeup. Your face child like without the sharp eye liner of defining bronzer. But there was a prettiness to you, your eyes seemed even (e/c)er. You shake out your hair, watching the still damp tendrils fall across your shoulder before slipping into a pair of slippers, feeling good enough to go and scower the fridge because your tummy was growling viciously and you knew it was a shit idea to let those pills kick in on an empty stomach.

Your not surprised to see Steve and Bucky still immersed in their game- or maybe it’s a different game because this one looks like hockey and you could have sworn the other was baseball.

“What'er you guys watching?” You inquire, just to start a conversation, as you walk across the living room.

Your voice is still worn out, but you look better. Like you always do after showering off the long day.

“The Rangers game. We’re gettin’ our asses handed to us” Bucky gruffs, taking a look-see at you. Your hairs long down your back, your swimming in that old sweater of yours and your face is bare. Just like he likes you best.

“Hey, have a little faith! We can still pull through” Steve urges and you giggle as you open the stainless steel fridge door.

“We got you an order of those perogi’s you like from Kinga’s” He tells you just as your eyes land on the white take out box and you thank whatever creation there might be for your boys.

“Mmm, thank you kindly sirs” You pop them in the microwave “Sam still on that mission?”

It been a week and you we’re starting to get a little worried. You knew him, Nat and Thor could more then handle themselves but you we’re starting to really miss his booming jokes. His dirty laundry basket in the hallway, not so much. You’d almost killed yourself on that thing in the middle of the night too many times.

“Yeah, don’t worry, he’ll be back on Friday. Unfortunately” Bucky hollers to you and you just roll your eyes and chuckle. Those two pretended to hate each other, but really you’d heard Bucky questioning the bird mans return this morning. No one brewed a pot of coffee like Sam.

When you come back to the living room, your hands full; the take out box in one and a glass of that green tea blend that you could never get either of them could drink because apparently it tasted like grass, it’s no shock that you plop down in the middle of them.

It would have been weirder if you had chosen to sit on one of the empty couches.

It was just normal for you now, your place between them and the comfortable conversation that ensues feels like home. You ask about how their day had gone, wanting to hear details from both about what they’d done for the duration of it. And then, they ask about yours.

To anyone else, even your Aunt Pepper, you probably would of lied. Would have told a wound a nice story about how the shoot had been so amazing. The team, the outfits. The set.

And that was true. Partially. But you don’t tell them the partial truth. You never do.

“I mean it was okay-” Bucky shoots you a knowing look and you sigh “The photographer was really intense. I mean he’s known for that, his crazy antics make for some kick-ass shots but that plus the lights that were set up was all just really…sucky”

You admit, quirking your mouth and swirling your tea. Steve reaches over, his big scorching palm coming to rest on your shoulder. The weight of it reassuring.

“I just feel- ugh fuck, you know? Like I cant go running away every time set gets a little loud or they shine a weird light in my eyes”

“But you didn’t run away right? You stayed and finished it” Steve’s voice is gentle- but not in that annoying clinical way. No, it’s easing the push, it’s encouraging not belittling.

“Yeah. After I had a minor breakdown in my changing room” that was an understatement, you recall the way you’d grasped at your chest. The way all the air in the room had seemingly gone out.

“Then? That’s an impressive feat all on it’s own, sugar” He continues on and you shake your head, poking at your perogi. Unable meeting either of their eyes.

“I’m just thinking maybe I’m not cut out for this anymore” It was so, so hard to admit that. To admit that maybe it was time to change your dreams, to let go of what you’d wanted for so.

Bucky’s chest aches for you, the empathy he feels in that moment is immense, he cant help but reach out. His hand going to you thigh, his thumb rubbing little circles into the smooth, plush skin as he talks.

“Why? Even when you felt awful you stayed put. Listen, doll, anyone who knows you knows how much you want this…I mean you we’re born for the camera, just look at that face- you roll your eyes and he chuckles- Not to mention if you don’t have a professional taking em’ your just going to sit in your room and take a thousand of those selfers anyway. Might as well get paid for your troubles ”

That makes you laugh hard and you tilt your head to him “Selfies, Bucky! God, you’re so old”

They have a way of doing this- making you feel better. Making it all melt away, even if it’s just for those moments when the three of you are huddled together. You dream of this shit, no joke. Of the feeling of both of their hands on you like they are now.

“You wound me, doll” Bucky melodramatically holds his chest leaning back into the couch, not moving his hand.

You continue eating, your stomach feeling more settled. You close your eyes and moan at the heaven sent explosion of favor.

“Mmm, Stevie, taste this” You urge as you stab one of the potato dumplings and hold it out to the lighter haired man, your hand underneath it incase it spilled over. Steve grins and opens his mouth wide and inviting as you pop the entire thing in.

“Amazing, right?”

“Uh, huh ‘real ‘ood” he says around the mouthful of food and you and Bucky both chuckle.

“Don’t hurt yourself there, punk” Bucky teases and Steve reaches across you to swat at his shoulder.

“Jerk”

Your more then used to them being hundred year old children “Alright boys let’s watch something that doesn’t make my brain bleed, yes?”

There’s a few moans and groans of protest, from the both of them, but in the end they do what they always do; give you what you want. You’re vaguely aware of your power over the two men and you deviously think how dangerous it is to have them at your beck and call. You end up making them watch ‘The Men in Black’ with you because “It’s a classic, oh my gosh I cant believe you guys have never seen this before” and of course you fall asleep twenty minutes in.

When people talk about anxiety attacks, they don’t ever mention how they physically drain the life out of you. The exhaustion that comes with them.

You end up sprawled out, your head resting on a pillow in Steve’s lap and your legs tangled with Bucky’s as he stretched out on the opposite side of you. Not an unusual positon for the three of you to contort into.

Steve plays with the near dry tendrils of your hair idly, he can feel your short, puff like breaths on his thigh. Bucky’s vibranium hand rests on your leg, where knee meets thigh, the warmth of your sweet smelling skin radiating off of you. It’s peace, the one sliver of peace it seems that you all will ever find.

“Steve” Bucky speaks first. He’s always been the bolder of the two. He’d known he was going to have to be the one to speak up sooner or later.

“Yeah?” Steve can hear it in his voice. Knows what’s coming.

“You love her” it’s not a question or an accusation. Just a statement.

“So do you” Is all Steve can think to retort and Bucky just sighs and nods wordlessly.

Will Smith fights aliens on the TV screen as they both acknowledge what they’d known wouldn’t stay unspoken.

“Ya’ know our lives would be a hellava lot easier if these guys really existed” Steve’s eyes narrow as he drinks in the film. Bucky’s snort fills the room. Aint that the truth.

There’s a moment of silence where they let the movie play, where your little wheezes and extraterrestrial battle sounds fill the living room.

“Your Agent K and I’m agent J” Bucky smirks, knowing his little comment is going to grate his best friend. Steve’s head snaps in his direction.

“That’s a load of crap, your older then me!”

“In years, yes. In spirit-”

“Fuck off, Bucky”

And even in your sleep state, you manage to be a smart ass. Because even though Steve cursed around you plenty, you’d grown up on those tapes of him that they played in school. And the cussing one had always stuck with you. “Language cap'n” you mother incoherently.

They both look like their eyes might pop out of their heads.

——————-

Okay guys I hope you liked this first part! I’m still trying to figure out the dynamic I want for the three of them, but I think I’ve got it. Please give me feed back, because I live on that shit. It’s the air I breathe. If you want to be tagged, let me know!😬💛

[donttellpeterparker]

Falling For The Right Guy

Summary: Being the Queen B came with it’s perks... but guys flirting with you non stop was definitely not one of them. Well.. that was until you met him.

Requested: Yes. Thank you for the request @imaginesyes! xo If you really wanna dig the vibe... I suggest listening to this <-- as you read! :))

Word Count: 3.9k+

Taglist: @cutie1365 @luke-the-princess @that70skiwi @mang0fruitblast @fairydustparker @fortheloveoflamp @jamesbuckybananabarnes

Want to be on the taglist?: here

Warning(s)?: None? Light swearing and adorable fLUFFFF

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Falling For The Right Guy

You strolled through the hallway in a tired manner, you only woke up 15 minutes ago and it felt like death was upon you today. You removed the sunnies from your head and popped them into your hair, reaching your locker.

''Have you been watching Runway social suicide again?'' Your best friend Allison comes up to you, eyeing your outfit. You glance down at yourself and shrug your shoulders, not really caring today what the hell you looked like. 

''No, these are express from biteme.com'' You sassed back, placing a hand onto your hip. She rolls her eyes at you and laughs.

''Only you can manage to pull off an outfit like that'' She states, finishing collecting her books for her next class, English, which also happened to be yours as well. 

''Me and my label whores take great offense to that'' You reply with mock hurt, placing a hand of your heart for a dramatic effect. Allison rolls her eyes at you and shuts her locker, beginning to walk away from you and off into the classroom.

You turned to your on locker with a tired sigh and grab your books out, closing it shut once you were done. You turned back around to notice you were getting some very unwanted attention. You sighed again, noticing some of the guys were even wolf whistling at you. 

Plastering a fake smile, you beamed it towards them, causing their eyes to widen in shock. It wasn't every day that the school Queen B noticed them. Yes, you heard that right, you were popular in high school. In fact, Some even referred you to the Queen B. How stereotypical seeing you were no where near in fact a mean girl. 

''Hey baby, can I have your number?'' A sleezeball called out as you made your way past the crowd. With a smirk you didn't even bother turning around to voice your response. 

''Yeah, 1800-kiss-my-ass'' You sassed back as you walked away and into the classroom. Okay... maybe you were a little. 

~Lunch

''I swear to flipping god if I have to sit through another god damn lecture I'll kill myself'' One of the girls complained from around the table. You rolled your eyes at her softly smiled as you took your seat, placing your jacket next to you. 

''Why don't you commit suicide? It's more effective'' One of the girls responds. Your eyes widen and a laugh seems to lodge itself in the back of your throat. Oh gosh where was Allison when you needed her. You could only handle these airheads for so long before heads began to roll... literally. 

''Killing yourself is suicide Stacy'' The blonde beside her nudged her shoulder. Stacy turned around and frowned, seeming to put the pieces together. You laughed at their exchange and began to tuck into your lunch that you brought from home. You hardly ever liked what they sold here so you brought your own lunch from home. 

Rice crackers, your favourite.

''Y/N?'' Your head popped up at the mention of your name across the table. You finished the bite you were on and smiled. 

''Nick wanted me to give this to you..'' Eleanor trailed off, passing you a slip of paper. You began to unfold the note and read the messy writing. 

~Meet me under the bleachers, fourth period ;)

You scrunched the paper into the ball and threw into the middle of the table. The other girls looked up at you, not seeming surprised. This was a daily occurrence, you would receive letters and what not from guys asking you to 'hook up' with them or 'go round' with them like seriously... who uses 'go round' anymore?

''Who was it from?'' One of the girls piped up interested. Stacy reached for the paper and unscrew it, reading it aloud. 

''Wait... the Nick McHottie asked you out?'' She spoke up with envy. Ugh, he was a disgusting creep. Yeah he was hot but he had no personality what so ever.

''McDonald'' You replied, snatching the paper from her hands. She frowned. 

''How the hell could you turn him down? He's like the hottest guy in school!'' Emily piped up, the other girls joining in chorus. You stopped eating your cracker and looked up with a frown. 

''I'm sorry, but a guy that can't pronounce archaeornithomimus isn't the guy for me'' You replied, causing all the girls eyes around you to widen. You took another bite of your cracker and spoke with a full mouth.

''Wha?'' It came out slightly muffled though due to the food. Some of them sat there in shock while the others tried to figure out what the hell that even was.

''Isn't that a type of like... sleep disorder?''

''Paralysis'' You replied with an eye roll.

''And no... it's not'' You responded. Seeing how Allison has ditched you for lunch you decided to pack up your things, wanting to be alone. 

''Where are you going?'' Eleanor asked. 

''I'm going to head to the library to get some last minute studying done'' You replied easily. You waved them off with a smile and left the cafeteria, feeling multiple pair of eyes on you. 

Peter's eyes followed you as you left, his head placed on top of his palm as he watched you leave. This was a daily ritual for him. After he got his lunch he would sit down quickly and begin to eat, his eyes and ears searching for any signs of you. Once he found you he often drifted off into la la land. 

''I seriously don't get what you see in her...'' Ned spoke from beside him. Peter ignored him, to lost in his trance with you to care.

''She's... perfect'' He would reply dreamily. Ned would just roll his eyes at his friend and continue reading his comic.

''She's a bitch'' Ned would often reply. This would always snap Peter out of his daze. He would turn to Ned angrily.

''No she isn't she's just... misunderstood'' He tried to persuade him. Ned just hums in response, still reading his comic. Peter would sigh and rest his head back onto his open palm.

~Class

You strolled into your class with a smile on your face, AP Physics, this subject happened to be one of your favourite. Seeing there were no seating arrangements for this class you often sat near the back, keeping your head down and completing your work with a snide comment here and there from a few guys.

You walked through the classroom looking for an empty seat. You sighed once you saw most of them were pretty much full. 

Peter walked into the class shortly after with wide eyes. You were standing right next to his bench. Well... it wasn't his bench but that was where he sat pretty much every lesson. 

''There's a spare seat on my lap baby'' One of the guys flirted to you with a wink. You wanted to scoff at his forwardness. Instead you settle for rolling your eyes and glanced around the classroom, noticing most of the empty spaces were next to useless, sexist pigs who would probably try to trail a hand up your skirt. Why were guys such sleezeballs in high school? 

''...Excuse me'' You heard a tiny voice speak from behind you. You turned around and smiled once you spotted you fellow class mate, Peter Parker.

''Oh, hey Peter'' You greeted with a smile. You moved out of the way, assuming this was his stop. His eyes widen at your greeting and his mouth drops. Have you never greeted him before?

''H-h-i'' He stuttered out with an awkward smile. You couldn't help but to smile at his nervousness around you. 

''Y/n baby... leave that dork and come sit next to me'' One of the jocks called out to you. You sighed angrily, wanting to just go over them and shut him up yourself.

You turned around to see his facial expression. 

''You know you want to'' He flirts. Ugh. Instead you just smiled sweetly at him, placing your books onto the bench beside you. Peter's eyes widened at the action, noticing you taking the spare seat beside him. No one ever sat next to him because he was the 'loser' or 'nerd'. 

Holy sugar crackers is she actually sitting next to me? Is this real? I think I'm going to faint...

You slipped into the seat and turned your head towards Peter, noticing how he seem to shy away from you. A frown fell across your lips. Never before have you had that response. 

You decided to leave it and instead concentrate on the lesson for the day. 

~Through the lesson

Peter couldn't seem to control the shakes in his hands. His nerves were so bad that he didn't want to speak aloud in cause he stuttered like a total loser in front of you. You, on the other hand, just sat there copying down your work silently. You were enjoying the piece and quiet actually, no on was bothering you. 

You stumbled upon a question that seemed a little tricky and rested your head into your open palm with a sigh. Peter noticed this action and looked over towards you. He battled with himself whether or not to ask you if you were okay but decided against it. 

You stared at the page for a few minutes, trying to figure out the answer to the following question. You let out a defeated sigh and closed your eyes. Peter heard this and turned to face you with a worried look. He looked at your face as it was scrunched up in confusion. He found it adorable. 

''Peter?'' He heard your voice speak up. By now you were looking at him as well. He immediately blushed, cursing himself for being caught staring at you and quickly looked away. 

''Hmm?'' He asked out as casually as he could. You smiled at his response, noticing the tinge in his cheeks grow slightly darker.

''Do I have something on my face?'' You asked, wondering why he had been staring at you. Peter's eyes widen at your question. He visibly gulps. He turns his head to face you and quickly shakes his head. You smiled at his awkwardness. 

''Then why were you staring?'' You asked. You had grew curious with the boy sitting beside you. Peter's eyes almost looked like they wanted to fall out of his head. The poor thing could feel his heart practically racing inside his chest. What the hell was he supposed to say?

''Y-y-y-ou had something on your face..'' He stutters, not bothering to look at you. You reach a hand to your cheek and started to wipe, hoping to get whatever it was off of your face. You hadn't had worn makeup today thank god. 

''Got it?'' You asked. He turned to face you with red cheeks. He just smiled shyly and nodded in response. You smiled at him and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You looked over at him curiously. 

''There was nothing on my face was there?'' You asked. He froze again, the poor thing was going to have a bloody heart attack. 

''...no'' he mumbles out ashamed. You just smiled at his honesty and shook your head,your focus returning to your work. 

''I don't mind...'' You spoke out, softly enough for him to hear. You bit your lip, feeling your own nerves beginning to grow inside you. Never before had you been nervous talking to a boy cause they were all so immature but with him you did, he was... different. And you quite liked it. 

''M-m-ind w-what?'' he stuttered. How was it that you found his stuttering even adorable? Knowing the effect you had on him causing you to smile.

''You...'' you spoke up. He turned to face you confused, his eyes widening with a soft smile playing at the edge of his lips. He was blushing like crazy, he could feel it, but had nothing in him to stop him from looking at you. 

You guys stared into each others eyes for a little while, seeming to be getting lost in them. He noticed a tinge of pink spread across your own cheeks. His stomach did a flip at the sight.

Peter was the first to look away once he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around to the guy sitting behind him that held a piece of paper in his hand. He gave it to him with a smile, pointing towards Y/N who was now turned back around, working on her work sheet. Peter sighed and opened up the paper, hearing the sound of hissing behind him as he did so. He turned around once he felt a paper ball hit the back of his head.

''It's not for you, idiot'' The guy spoke up, pointing at your back. Peter's eyes widen as he nods, slipping the piece of paper beside you. You glanced away from your work and looked to your side to see the piece of paper.

You fingers slowly opened the piece of paper, you glanced over your shoulder as you did so, noticing the jock from early with a smirk on his face. You turned back around and read the paper, your eyebrows furrowing in disgust. You screwed up the piece of paper and placed it in front of you, deciding to get back to your work. Another piece of paper came hurtling towards Peter. He caught it due to his reflexes and sighed, grudgingly passing you the second note.

You glanced at Peter before opening the second note. Once you finished reading it you grabbed a pen, writing down a firm NO! underlined before passing it back to Peter. You turned back to your work while Peter sat there dumbstruck. 

Without realising another once was thrown across the room and hit Peter in the face this time. He angrily grabbed the piece of paper and placed it beside you. Once again, you stopped what you were doing and read what it said, writing down a response. Peter could feel himself growing angrier by the second. He knew it, he fucking knew it and Ned tried warning him but did he listen? No. 

One more came and this time Peter caught it, throwing it down in front of Y/N. You looked up confused as you saw the piece of paper slam down in front of you. You turn to your side to see a very angry looking Peter.

You opened this letter, this time not even bothering to read what it said. You grabbed a pen and responded.

~Your making my boyfriend angry, fucking stop Michael 

With this you crumpled up the piece of paper and gave it back to Peter. He looked at you wide eyed, not believing how you were using him. He took it from your hand angrily and threw it across the room back over to the jock. 

The jock, reading the letter, rolled his head back in laughter. That was it. Peter had snapped. Peter felt utterly humiliated and hurt but most of all, he felt angry.

''I'm not a fucking messenger boy'' Peter seethed at you. Now it was your turn for your eyes to widen in shock. You turned to face him, noticing just how angry he really was. Whoa... Never before have you ever heard Peter swear so he must be really pissed off.

''What?'' You asked out, not quite getting why he was mad at you. He closed his eyes and let out a angry sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

''Do you get off on this or something?'' He asks angrily. You dropped your pen, your focus being on him now. You stared at him wide eyed.

''Excuse me?'' You responded.

''Little miss 'Popular''' That had hit a nerve. 

''Oh get off your man period Peter'' You responded harshly. He dropped his hands and shook his head, biting his bottom lip angrily. 

''Once your done being an asshole let me know'' You spoke out, turning to face your work. 

''I'm the asshole?'' He argued. You rolled your eyes.

''Yeah, your certainly acting one'' You responded. He just glared at you in response, packing up his things.

''I'm a person Y/N, not a friggin play toy'' Okay where the hell did that come from? You look up once you heard him walk past you and out of the classroom. The teacher didn't seem to notice seeing he was busy writing on the board. You watched his retreating figure, your eyebrows furrowing. 

You packed up your own things and decided to leave the class as well to go after Peter. Something definitely wasn't right and you were going to figure out what it was. 

''Y/N!" The teacher called out but you ignored him. You glance down the hallway to seem him walking down towards his locker. You followed behind him, jogging a little to catch up. 

''Peter!'' You called out to him. He ignored you, seeming to wipe something away from his face as he stopped by his locker, opening it to block his face from your view. You reached his locker and stopped.

''Peter..'' You spoke up, this time more softly. He stiffened at your presence. He angrily wiped away a tear that had slid down his cheek and threw his books into his locker carelessly. 

''I'm sorry...'' You said sincerely, not liking the fact that you had cause him to be angry at you. Peter just shook his head at your response, feeling more tears pool in his eyes.

''No your not...'' He responds, his voice slightly breaking at the end. It was only now that you could tell that he was in fact, crying. Your stomach dropped. 

You reached a hand out slowly and placed it onto his shoulder, enjoying the warmth that traveled it's way up your arm once you did so. He angrily shrugged your hand off of him leaving you hurt and confused. 

He slammed his locker shut and decided to turn to face you. 

''The guys flirt with you 24/7 and you flirt back, always replying to the letters they send you. You relish in the attention that's showered over you, soaking it up.'' What?

''You use them for your own personal enjoyment! You use guys then throw them away like they're trash!'' You stood, dumbstruck as he continued on with his rant.

''You let these useless guys walk all over you...'' His tone started to drop. 

''You let them use you and then spit you out... so maybe that's why you do it too but it's not right... what about the guy who actually likes you for you? Who actually cares about you? And cares how you feel?'' Your mouth dropped. 

''Who?'' You asked, cutting him short.

''What do you mean Who? Me! Obviously!'' He calls out without realising. Your heart melt at his confession. His eyes widen once he realised what he had said and turns around quickly, his face flushing a dark shade of red. You bit your lip as you stepped closer towards him, he sensed you growing closer and froze.

''You... like me?'' You asked out shyly. He glanced over to you and quickly shook his head. You smiled in response and stepped closer to him, noticing him gulp at the close proximity between the two of you.

''N-n-n-o'' He stutters out, his eyes drifting from your eyes to your lips. You noticed this and brought and subconsciously brought your tongue out to dampen your dry lips. He followed this action with his eyes, the butterflies doing black flips inside his stomach. 

''What's a archaeornithomimus?'' You asked. He looks you back in the eyes with raised eyebrows.

''What? Why the hell are you asking me about dinosaurs when you know when your this close to me I can't even breath-'' You cut him once you heard what you had wanted to hear. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer towards you, cutting him off at the action. His eyes widen and on instinct his hands wrap around your waist.

''Breathe...'' He mutters out, staring at your lips. 

''Would it be incredibly cheesy for me to say that I really want to give you my first kiss?'' You ask out. His eyes widen at your words. 

''F-f-first ki-s-s-'' You cut him off when you gently placed your lips onto his. He froze underneath you, not believing what was happening right now. You pulled back slowly, your eyes slowly opening once you could feel the tingle on your lips.

''C-c-can we do that again?'' Peter asks out shyly, looking you in the eyes. You smiled with red cheeks and nod your head. Peter, this time, brought you to him and placed his lips onto yours, slowly beginning to move them against yours. You followed his lead. He gently snaked a hand from your waist to cup your cheek, tilting your head slightly for easier access. You heart fluttered at his gentleness, knowing he was taking his time with you. He softly massaged your cheek with the pad of your thumb causing a rush of tingles to shoot up your spine. You never knew kissing would be this... Amazing?

He pulled you even closer and deepened the kiss, lightly sucking at your bottom lip for you to grant him access. You did so happily and enjoyed the new wave of pleasure that was sent through your body when his tongue met yours. You moaned at the contact, enjoying the feeling oh so much.

He quickly pulled away and smiled.

''You keep doing that and I'm not going to want to stop'' He spoke up hoarsely. You just chuckled and pulled lightly at his curls, urging his face closer to yours again as you met him for another passionate kiss. 

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

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this Hun! Thank you for the request Darling xx

[lost-your-memory]

can you write something fluffy for b&w this time? Please don't break our heart again?

Aww I’m sorry for breaking your heart guys. Here’s something to fix it.

“Mom?”Myka glanced up from her spot on the sofa, where she was reading what looked like a heavy manuscript of some sort. A smile blossomed across her lips, kind and affectionate, and she gestured for her nine year old son to join her by patting the cushion next to her. The sound of his bare feet padding against the hard wooden floor stopped the moment he stepped on the thick but soft rug spread underneath the coffee table and all around it and he eagerly jumped on the couch next to his mother.“Mom, I have a question,” He said, his face giving away that it was an important and serious one.He had a strange gleam in his dark grey eyes, one that was making the freckles on his nose and cheeks look a little brighter than they usually were. His skin was pale but with a healthy glow that somehow contrasted with the mess of short dark curls bouncing all around the top of his head, brushing his forehead whenever he moved.He looked at her expectantly and Myka barely arched a brow to invite him to speak.“How did you meet mum?” He asked and he sounded a little unsure, hesitancy echoing in the way he pronounced the British surname. He would always make a point to add a very Londonian accent whenever he would say it but today, it sounded very American, almost foreign.Myka tilted her head to the side and absentmindedly closed her book, instinctively knowing this conversation would require her full attention. Settling herself a little more comfortably in the angle of the couch, she turned to face her son and met his expectant eyes.“That is a rather out of the blue question, Chris. What brings this one?” She inquired, not missing the way his eyes twitched, still betraying the eye roll he managed to contain.He was a very articulate and clever boy and as such, he had never liked when someone would answer a question with another question. A fact that had already led to countless fight between him and his British mother, who was well versed in the philosophical art of the sophism, during his young life.“I was watching Mary Poppins, with aunty Claudia and uncle Pete, yesterday,” He started and then paused, narrowing his eyes at her to see if she was going to laugh at the movie choice. Since she didn’t smile, he nodded approvingly and took in a deep breath before starting again. “Uncle Pete started to laugh when they all go see that silly uncle who drinks tea while flying near the ceiling and he said … He said it reminded him of how you and him first met mum.”For a minute, Myka only starred in the eyes of her son, grey like a winter sky but full of life and wonder. He was obviously waiting for an answer but Myka was thinking back of that day, all those years ago, in London, when Helena had made her fly for the very first time. Back then, they had been enemies and Helena had been the target but now, many many years later …“Mom?” The young boy called, his brows furrowed above his eyes, impatience showing across his face.“Sorry, Chris. I went back to that day, the one Pete spoke about. It was a funny one, you know, the kind of funny that always happens when your mum is involved. Like the time she tried to modify the popcorn machine to increase its efficiency and you and I came back home to find the kitchen almost entirely flooded with salted caramel popcorn,” Myka said and she laughed lightly at the memory, making her son laugh with her.“It was good popcorn, but she had to buy a new machine because the one she was trying to improve was broken and she couldn’t fix it herself,” The young boy added with a smile but then he became serious again and Myka could tell he wanted an answer.“Alright Chris, I am going to tell you the story of how I met your mother,” Myka started and she did.She told him all about how his British mother had been some kind of adversary spy, working for the British government while Pete and her were in London to retrieve an important object, on behalf of the American government.“You know your mum is an inventor of sort, right?” He nodded and Myka continued “The object we were supposed to retrieve was in a protected house, with all sort of scientific traps and she happened to know the house very well. She turned on a switch that activated an electromagnetic field in the ceilings and since we didn’t wear the protective vest, like she was, Pete and I went up and we got stuck against the ceilings. She left, with the object we should have been retrieving. That was the very first time I met your mother.”Myka studied her son’s features as he twisted his mouth in what was his most thoughtful gesture. He would always move or twist his lips or bite the inside of his cheeks while thinking and it was as strange as it was cute.“Is that when you fell in love with her?” He finally asked and Myka arched a surprised brow at this question. She wasn’t expecting something so serious from her nine years old son but then again, he was clever and bright and since he never really asked anything about his mothers before, maybe it was time he started.“I think it was a start, yes,” Myka replied after a short silence, biting her bottom lips as she thought about her life and how it only went downside the hill after her meeting with the infamous H.G Wells. Yet, she had absolutely no regret. None.“When did you realize, then?” He insisted, shuffling closer to lay down and put his head on her lap.She instantly reached a hand to caress his scalp, moving her fingertips across the glossy, silky curls that somehow reminded her of Helena’s hair. It was the same texture, the same gloss and color and it was also soft and smooth under her fingers.“I don’t exactly know when I realized I was in love with her, I never had a bright and clear revelation moment. I fell in love with her throughout the years, by spending time with her and learning to know her … It wasn’t always easy, you know. She’s something else, your mum.” Myka chuckled and the young boy did the same, apparently well aware of how complicated his British mother could be sometimes.“I think … I think that if I should choose one moment, the closest to the revelation, it would be the day she decided to come back to work with me. We hadn’t talked for almost two years, because we were somehow at odd, and then she came back. I think ... I think it’s the day she realized that maybe, maybe she loved me too,” Myka said and her tone was a little dreamy, a little far away as she thought back of that singular spring morning where she had found Helena on the B&B doorstep, looking very lost and very determined at once.It had been a very strange and confusing day, leading to an even more chaotic few months but eventually, they made it work and surprisingly enough, it lasted. It was still lasting.“Uncle Pete said that I am a very lucky boy, to have you and mum,” He whispered, a content smile having made its way across his lips.“Really? What do you think?” Myka asked, glancing down to face her son’s grey eyes and smiling at how happy he looked.“I think that for once, uncle Pete’s right.”Myka openly laughed at the implication, hearing Helena in her son’s voice and sass. He was always bantering with Pete but she knew her son was worshiping the man he so effortlessly called uncle and Pete was crazy about the young boy as well. They were always doing stuff together whenever Myka and Helena had to go on a mission together. Sometimes, Steve, Claudia or Abigail, or a combination of the above, would join in their activities but mostly, it was only Pete and Chris.“He’s taking me to a baseball game soon, he said he would talk to you about it,” The young boy said and then, he announced that he was going to bed.“Are you really going to sleep or are you going to read, young man? Because you are already forty-five minutes behind schedule, or did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Myka arched an unimpressed brow at him and he only shrugged.He was about to answer when a very British voice chimed in, startling them both.“Christopher Charles Bering-Wells!”Helena was now standing behind the couch, hands on her hips as she glared down at her son, still sprawled on the couch with his head on his mother laps. Myka twisted her neck to look back and she smiled at her wife.“Hi honey, I didn’t hear you come home,” She said and she saw Helena’s stern features soften, until a smile broke on her face, gentle and full of love.“Hello my darlings. I just came back, because I went to see Claudia and it took a little longer than expected but none of that explains the fact our son is still up at almost one hour past his bedtime?” Helena asked as she made her way around the couch, coming to sit next to Myka and moving their son’s legs onto her lap.“We had a long and interesting discussion, it took longer than I thought it would but you’re right. Come on Chris, off to bed with you.” Myka gently ordered and the young boy groaned a little. One glare from Helena sent him off upstairs to brush his teeth and Myka took the opportunity to kiss Helena.It was a soft but sound kiss, the kind that meant welcome home, I love you and I missed you all in once. When they pulled away, Helena was panting a little and her eyes were gleaming with something passionate, a familiar kind of anger that made Myka laugh a little.“Patience honey, we need to put the little devil to sleep first,” She said but she still leaned forward to kiss her wife again, a little more playfully this time.“Tease,” Helena mumbled in the kiss but she answered nonetheless, throwing her arms around Myka’s waist to pull her closer. They lost themselves in the kiss for a little while but then, their son’s voice echoed around the house.“Mooooom, muuuum, I’m ready!”They broke the kiss and laughed heartily.“Come on, honey. Let’s go put our son to bed and then, I am going to show you exactly how much I missed you,” Myka whispered to Helena’s ear before moving up from the couch to walk towards the staircase.She took in the sight of a slightly breathless but very aroused Helena and smirked.After one last promising wink, she then disappeared upstairs.

[ihavereadandagreetothetermsofuse]

Day 19: Identity Reveal

<<Day 18 // FF.net // Ao3

To begin; she should never have disclosed her age.

Alya had her laughing, she wasn’t sure when, something about how she has to be some hubby’s bedbug who’s not afraid to bite. And Ladybug laughed, no way, I’m 14!

Tom and Sabine watched the interview with creased brows.

And that kicked off the spark.

“She’s Marinette’s age... If I were her mother I’d never let her out of my sight.” Sabine wrapped an arm around Marinette, and she tensed.

Said proverbial spark lit the fuse that burned eagerly to its destination.

Tom rested his hand over Sabine’s. “I can’t believe she’s a child, risking her life— and who’s letting her do this?” Marinette locked her eyes onto their joined hands at her shoulder. “Irresponsible!”

“But you have to admit, she knows what she’s doing,” Marinette meekly defended.

“I suppose... but for her to have that type of responsibility while she’s still developing?” Sabline met Marinette’s eye. “It’s already hard enough at your age, could you imagine all of Paris on your shoulders?”

With a tight lipped smile, Marinette shook her head.

A day later her parents dragged her downstairs to watch an akuma attack via the news while Chat Noir, sans Ladybug, ‘handled it’.

Three days later they began noticing her distinct talent to disappear every attack, and panicked, “where were you!?” Listing all the atrocities their latest akuma could have brought down upon her when she should have been safely inside.

A week, and she was scarcely ever out of their sight.

Chat Noir dragged along the newsreel. Suddenly having a Miraculous was a job. With each new akuma she watched the news a little closer, spied escapes a little faster, except her excuses were failing. Ladybug’s fleeting appearances and Marinette’s slip-away's did not go beyond their notice.

It was all a matter of not addressing that elephant upstairs.

And her Chaton prowling the nights like a bat signal only urged her decision along.

Skipping beside shadows in the streets, she kept an eye to the sky. Any mention of some kid rooftop watching, spotting Ladybug and she's never getting free. But a girl wandering past midnight? Maybe like three people would care, none of them here.

Vaulting over the top of a near skyscraper, there! She cupped hands around her lips. “Chat Noir!”

And somehow he heard her. Head whipping down, expression so open before recognition set in.

He's boots clapped the pavement. “Marinette?” He glanced over her head. “Isn't it... late?”

“Yeah- well-” shaking her hands under the reins of stage fright, she hoped a little circle. Say it. It's what she prepared for, what Tikki approved she do.

And then imagination painted a pretty alternate. Life under lock and key. Paris scraping by, waiting for her to simply appear, if only to finish Chat’s job. And her parents, more paranoid by the second.

Eye clenched shut, she dove in. “I need you to date me.”

He, understandably, checked for fever.

“I get you have a life-” he cupped her cheek. “But I need some type of excuse as to why I’m not home-” clamped a hand around the back of her neck. “My best friend can’t be it because she chases akuma herself-” he scratched his chin. “And all of my other friends won’t lie for me anymore without a reason.”

“Not a fever,” he murmured to himself.

“I’ve had a boyfriend before, and the amount of personal space was a godsend. It only has to be pretend.”

“Listen.” He turned her around, and pushed forward. “I’m sure there’s a good reason.”

“Right.”

“But I can’t entertain you right now.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m looking for Ladybug.” He wistfully gazed at the sky. “She shows up maybe a second before she has to go, something’s up.”

“Yeah,” Marinette sassed under her breath. “She’s becoming rapunzel.”

“What?”

“So,” she changed the subject. “If I give you Ladybug, will you fake date me?”

“Well... sure.”

“Okay,” she held up Tikki, who lazily waved a moment before zipping back into her bag for a nap. “Now, I need you to show up to my home at noon.”

Face slack, he could only stare.

“Chaton?”

He pointed at her nose. “You’re?”

“Yes.”

“And your parents?”

She sighed, “yeah.”

“B-but you?”

“Words.”

He shook himself. “Okay.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You... you’re Ladybug, we- we’re going to skip some very important steps, and get right onto dating?”

“Fake, but yes.” She cupped her throat. “They think I’m Ladybug, I just need to... show them I’m not. You don’t have to... but it would mean a lot to me.”

“So I show up, out of costume, and pretend you’re my girlfriend?”

“Yes. Also, try and wear something... odd.”

Blinking rapidly, he gave a jerky nod. “Okay”

She clicked her phone on for the time. “Annnd I have to go!” Leaning her weight back, she tripped, turned around, and jogged.

He met her pace close behind.

“What if some guy shows up before I do, and you mistake him for me, tell everyone you two are together, then I show up and ruin everything!?”

“How would that happen!?”

“I dunno! I’ve seen it happen before!”

“Where!?”

He fell silent. “...romcoms”

“What the hell do you think this is? -don’t answer that. You know where I live. Show up anything but early, I have an idea.”

——————————————

The next day, cooking up some brunch, Marinette smiled. Her parents sat around the table, awaiting her surprise.

“Okay.” Marinette drooped her shoulders. Nervousness she didn’t have to fake, but caution was hard to feign under all her building excitement. In an hour she’d be free of all suspicion! “I’ve been holding off, but I think you should know.”

“Know what?” Sabine asked as Tom took her hand.

“I... have a boyfriend.”

They hit the back of their chairs. “You do?”

“Yeah, he’s a bit of a rebel, so I wasn’t sure you’d approve.” She chuckled. “We’ve been meeting up during akuma attacks so no one would notice but...”

Sabine crossed her arms. “Can we meet this boyfriend?”

“Of course!”

The doorbell rang.

“Hold on.”

Marinette dashed to the door, and flung it open with a wide smile. “Hi!”

“Hi!” Adrien reflected her brimming energy.

She slammed it.

Then cracked it opened again.

With a small smile Adrien held up his kwami, who cackled behind his paws.

“Is that your rebel boyfriend?” Sabine called from a room over.

“Rebel?” Adrien questioned. “Is that why you asked me to dress odd?”

His idea of odd was wearing a t-shirt that didn’t match his shoes.

Marinette bumped her head into the doorframe. “I’m doomed.”

Day 20>>