#Natasha Lewis

[kcsplace]

Top Gun Maverick + The Onion

Top Gun Silliness

[0mg-bird]

i would love it if you wrote anything with a shy reader and bob, but no pressure!

Two shy characters? I love it.

Shy Reader x B. Floyd

Summary: At the Navy bar your friends drag you to, you come across an aviator who isn’t like the rest of them.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, fluff!, Bob is so cute I wanna put him in my pocket even though I know he’s a grown man.

A/n: I did something a little different than my Jake story, hope you don’t hate it <3

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

“I really wish we could have just stayed at the restaurant.” You awkwardly laugh as your friends, Ashley and Steff, pull you along with them.

“Oh come on, it’s my birthday so we’re going to get drunk and find a soldier to take home. One for each of us.” Steff says, already slightly tipsy from dinner.

You hide your frown, adjusting your curled hair and fiddle with your top.

You’ve never been into the Hard Deck, that’s what starts off your unsureness. You weren’t one for public outings, you enjoyed the company of your friends but they were always more adventurous than you.

There’s music playing and lots of people mingling, you’re practically hiding behind Ashley, following the two through the bar.

“You need a drink, you’re too stiff.” Ash says as the three of you sit at the bar.

“I’m always this stiff.” You reply, sitting on your stool. “Well, let’s fix that.” Steff giggles before ordering three drinks.

You chat and your anxious feelings subside, as soon as you get to thinking that bar scene really isn’t that bad, you hit a curve.

“God, they’re all so gorgeous.” Ash practically moans and you follow her line of sight to the group of uniforms behind you. They’re all playing pool and talking, all clad in tan and name badges.

“I like…that one- no! Him, yes, the tall one.” Steff bites her straw, motioning to a dirty blond with broad shoulders and great biceps.

Ash hums in agreement. “I like him too.”

“Well it’s my birthday so pick again.”

They have the argument for another minute or so, then as you finally dissociate from them, they’re telling you they’re going to go say hi.

“What? No just stay here…please?” You beg, not wanting to be left alone.

“We’ll be right back, I swear.” Steff says, kissing your cheek. “Have another drink and you’ll be fine.”

You groan and rub her lipstick off your face, then turn to the woman behind the bar. “I’ll have another Long Island, put it on the party girl’s tab.”

She smiles. “Coming right up.”

You blow out a puff of air, then look around. You must look awkward, sitting by yourself, not chatting like everyone else. When your drink comes, you look sip on your straw and look over your shoulder to see if your friends have gotten any farther with the guys they’re talking to. You smile at the way Steff is feeling her guy up, as you go to glance away, something catches your eye.

Someone.

He’s sitting on a stool, not fully engaged with the rest of the squad. As your eyes catch his stare, he looks away for a moment, then looks back.

A genuine smile he gives you, and then it’s your turn to slightly smile and look away.

Bob’s eyes keep shifting to your seated position across from him, and by the third time of his drifting off, Phoenix is onto his game.

“Are you gonna sit here like an idiot all night or are you going to talk to her?” She asks.

“What? I don’t know what-”

She rolls her eyes. “You’ve been staring at her like a puppy for twenty minutes. Go talk to her.”

The thought of approaching you seemed like a death wish. You were gorgeous, and any other previous times he’s approached a gorgeous girl, it ended with some sort of question about what Hangman was up to.

“No, she looks busy.” He says, looking back to the sunflower seeds in his cup.

“Busy doing what? Stirring the ice in her drink? That girl is bored out of her mind, Bob, go put her out of her misery.” She has a demanding tone that makes him stand, still unsure.

“What’s he doing?” Fanboy asks, noticing the way Bob slowly inches forward. “He’s gonna go talk to the girl he’s been ogling for too long.” Phoenix says.

“You go Bob!” Payback encourages, really just joking.

“Get me a beer while you’re at it!” Fanboy calls.

“Me too!” Phoenix and Payback add.

He walks with hesitation instead of determination, the entire time he thinks it’s a ridiculous idea.

He stops at the spot beside you. “Penny, can I get three beers?”

By his sudden presence, you startle, slightly jumping in your seat.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to scare yuh.” He apologizes. You’re more beautiful up close, timid as you tell him it was okay.

“Why’re you sitting alone? If you don’t mind me asking?” He asks and you bite your lower lip, fighting a smile. “My friends are busy groping your friends over there.” You joke.

“Makes sense. You’re not a fan of their antics?”

You shake your head, nose scrunching. Bob takes in a small breath. “Well, I think it’s a real shame that you’re sitting alone. Why don’t you go back to your friends?”

You like his accent, it feels southern but you aren’t sure.

“Really, I’m fine. I’m not exactly a fan of the attention being on me.” You admit.

As Penny places three beer bottles in front of him, he grabs them up. “I think you should join me.” He rushes out, his tone just as surprised as you are.

“Join you?” You ask, looking to the group. Two guys are shoving each other back and forth, seeing who will fall over first. You’re not satisfied with the idea of involving yourself with that. “I think I’ll just wait for my friends to come back.”

He takes a seat beside you. “Can I join you then?”

No guy has ever been so persistent with you before, you’re not sure what to do. You look at his name tag.

“Okay, Floyd, you can stay but I’m kind of boring.”

He shakes his head. “I find that hard to believe and uh, you can call me Bob, everyone else does.”

Having him up close, you recognize how handsome he really is. Not the obnoxiously attractive that the rest of his crew is, he’s more reserved. You like that. His glasses are quirky and different, making him look all the better.

“I’d hate to keep you from your friends, Bobby.”

No one’s ever called him Bobby before, the way it sounds coming off your lips is addicting.

“Trust me, you’re doing me a favor.” He jokes. “You got a name?”

You look at your shoes and tell him. When he tries it out, you blush.

“I like that name.” He compliments.

“I think it’s kind of boring:”

“It’s not boring.”

You like the way he’s being so kind, most guys would have tried a pick up line by now, but Bob sits with utter curiosity in his eyes.

“So, you from here?” You ask, sucking on your straw.

“No, I’ve lived in Lemoore for a while but I’m stationed here until further notice. I grew up in Kentucky actually, then I joined the Navy and haven’t really been back.” He explains, watching the way you rest an elbow in the bar, then lean your head on your hand. “What about you? Are you from here?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m from up North actually. But I went to school down here and fell in love with it so here I am.”

The two of you are quickly immersed in conversation about childhood and travel and Bob watches you come out of your shell.

“You don’t want anything?” You asked, motioning to the bar.

“I don’t drink.” He explains, though he’s distracted by Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin who suddenly is crowding your space.

“Excuse me, is this guy bothering you?” He asks, joking around with Bob.

“Don’t you have a blonde to attend to, Bagman?” Bob questions, making the man drop his smile.

“I’m getting her a drink, her friend too.” He says before ordering two vodka sodas. He looks back at you. “Your party girlfriends are wanting you to join them.”

As you open your mouth to respond, a shout comes from the group. “Bob! What happened to the beers?”

Bob groans, then stands to gather the beers that have been sitting for twenty minutes. “I should get back to it.” He tells you with a smile, walking away.

You look around, confused. Maybe you put him off, maybe you gave the wrong signals. You grab your drink, finishing it quickly, and before you can second guess yourself, you follow after him.

As your presence is recognized, the crew halts in conversation.

This was a bad idea. You could turn back, it wasn’t too late.

As you go to do just that, Bob speaks. “Hi again.”

He’s motioning to the stool he was going to sit on, offering it to you instead.

You slowly sit, deciding on being brave.

You’re introduced to the rest of the group, and as you remember why you didn’t want to be around the guys your friends wanted to, Bob is there, talking to you so the others couldn’t. There’s plenty of jokes made that you force yourself to laugh at, just so you wouldn’t seem awkward, but the tale tell sign of you constantly checking the little leather watch on your wrist showed you were ready for some peace and quiet.

“You wanna go for a walk?” Bob’s voice is low next to your ear, it makes a shiver run through you.

As you look up, his face is surprisingly close to you. You slowly nod. “Okay.”

In the moment that everyone else is distracted by the two girls who adore the attention, the two of you head for the door. You don’t pull away as Bob clutches your hand, keeping you close as he leads you past people.

The music is immediately quieted as you make it to the fresh air, the gentle sound of the waves coming in is relaxing.

“I don’t love the crowds either.” He says as you make your way across the sidewalk. You’re busy looking out to the sand and waves. “Ash and Steff are really more the fun ones, they can have a good time with a group of people watching…I cannot.”

He likes the sound of your laugh, the way the white moonlight is hitting your features makes you seem radiant.

“I always thought the Navy would make me a more sociable person, I guess it has but I think it creeps people out, how quiet I am.” He chuckles.

Completely content with strolling beside you, he gives off an energy you feel utterly comfortable in.

“I like that you’re quiet, most Navy guys aren’t.”

He playfully squints at you. “You talk to a lot of Navy guys?”

Reevaluating your words, your cheeks flush. “No that’s not what I meant, I just meant that- they’re all a certain way- not that I would know! I have never slept with any man of uniform!”

Bob stands in surprise at your ramble, finding it humorous. As he laughs, you cover your face, embarrassed.

“Hey, I was just teasing. I swear, I was teasin’.” He grabs your wrists gently, prying your hands from you so he can look at your red face. “Come on, pretty girl, look at me.”

As soon as he says it, he feels embarrassed himself. The name just slipped out, he should’ve halted the words, he needs to apologize-

You look up at him, doe eyes and a small smile.

Your hearts pounding, your close proximity to him has you feeling hot. As the low crash of waves mixes with the ringing in your ears, you wonder what it would be like to live on the wild side, to do what people do in bars. If you were brave and stepped out of your shy personality, would he let you kiss him?

Bob’s gazing down at you, he’s trying to figure out what’s turning in your mind. One hand lets go of your wrist, it gently cups your cheek.

“I’m going to be bold.” You state with a determination that makes him nod.

“Okay.” Is all he says.

The hand he has a hold on, goes to rest on his chest. You’re surprised at the hardness of it, sure you knew he had to be physically fit to be in the line of work he’s in, but his body is so unsuspecting, it honestly makes him utterly attractive.

He watches you hyper fixate on your touch on his chest, and the warmth of you is enough to make him feel buzzed.

He doesn’t want to rush you, but every second where you don’t pursue whatever thought you have, is killing him.

You start thinking against it, you don’t want him to think you kiss strangers, it’s not who you are at all. You swallow hard, about to call the whole thing off and tell him goodnight. When you raise your head though, he���s lifting your face to his. You’re captivated, he’s embracing you so tenderly, kissing you with an unsure and unfamiliar passion.

You sigh deeply, he holds your hand to his chest, your free one slides over his shoulder. Slowly, shyly, your lips move against his, falling into a gentle rhythm.

Your heavy eyes are shut, the utter feeling of him is making an electricity flicker through you.

After a moment, he pulls away, both hands cradling your face now.

“Please tell me that’s what you were going to do.”

You nod with a fever. “Yes, that’s exactly what I was going to do.”

He kisses you quickly once more, just to get it out of his system. “What are you doing tomorrow?” He asks.

“Probably nursing Steff’s hang over, but if you call me I’ll do whatever you’re doing.”

He grins, liking the idea.

You continue your late night walk, and inside the bar, Coyote looks to the vacant stool with confusion. “Where’s Bob?”

The crew stops, then looks to the empty space.

“Stealth pilot, I’m telling you.” Hangman says. “This guy is always disappearing and popping back up again.”

[almondcroissantsandink]

these two slayed every scene they were in

[peachesandcreames]

It's Not the Plane, It's the Pilots 💞💕

[peacefxlmyko]

I need friends like the TGM cast so badly I mean LOOK AT THEM

[natti-ice]

18+ mdni

Based on this p!link

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

Your girl teasing your red, swollen, sensitive clit with her nipple as you writhe underneath her, the pleasure sends shivers down your body as you let out loud pitiful whimpers. She praises you for how good you’re taking her torment, she loves seeing you struggle against the orgasm building in your body.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

⋆·˚˚°✦ Masterlist ✦°˚˚·⋆

ι wrιtᥱ for mᥲrvᥱᥣ womᥱᥒ, ιᥒᥴᥣυdιᥒg wᥲᥒdᥲ, ᥒᥲtᥲshᥲ, kᥲtᥱ, ყᥱᥣᥱᥒᥲ, ᥲgᥲthᥲ, ᥲᥒd rιo

ι wrιtᥱ for fᥱm!rᥱᥲdᥱr, gᥒ!rᥱᥲdᥱr, ᥲᥒd ᥲmᥲb!/ιᥒtᥱrsᥱx!rᥱᥲdᥱr

ι'm ᥲυtιstιᥴ ᥲᥒd wιᥣᥣ wrιtᥱ ᥲυtιstιᥴ!rᥱᥲdᥱr

ᥒo bᥱstιᥲᥣιtყ, ρᥱdo, rᥲᥴιsm, or homoρhobιᥲ

thιs ιs ᥲᥒ 𝟷𝟾+ bᥣog. mᥱᥒ ᥲᥒd mιᥒors dᥒι. ᥲgᥱᥣᥱss ᥲᥒd/or bᥣᥲᥒk bᥣogs wιᥣᥣ bᥱ bᥣoᥴkᥱd!

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡ᥲᥒoᥒ ᥱmojι ᥣιst~‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡kιᥒktobᥱr 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟺 mᥲstᥱrᥣιst‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡ᥣᥱყ's moodboᥲrd dᥱᥴᥱmbᥱr mᥲstᥱrᥣιst 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟺‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡sᥱrιᥱs‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡oᥒᥱ shots‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡drᥲbbᥣᥱs‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡hᥱᥲdᥴᥲᥒᥒoᥒs‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡moodboᥲrds‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

[ereardon]

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Sixteen

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader 

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst

Chapter summary: Ducky has a scare and both Jake and Bob rush to the hospital

WC: 1.6K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

You were at work the first time you felt it. 

A zap. A buzz, deep in your abdomen. It lasted for a second, a prolonged sting, before evaporating. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and willed it to leave. That was something you hadn’t been prepared for about pregnancy. Not that you had prepared much, or at all, to start. But the accompanying anxiety that riddled every moment. Every flutter, every cramp or aversion or heat sensitivity drove you into a Googling rampage. 

If you were this bad now, what would happen when the baby was born? 

It happened again as you were taking your lunchtime walk near the water. A sting that echoed deep within the recesses of your expanding abdomen. You stopped, one hand on your stomach, eyes wide. 

“Are you alright, dear?” An older woman stopped, concern lacing her features. 

You nodded. “Yes, thanks. All fine.” 

She watched you cautiously before nodding and slipping back into the crowds. You stopped toward a bench and placed one hand on the back, steadying yourself. 

When the pain came again, and this time you knew it would, you grimaced, digging out your phone. 

Jake’s cell. It went to voicemail and your heart rate started to spike. Next you dialed Bob, and the same fate. 

Panic started to set in. 

Eyes bleary, you pressed Phoenix’s contact in your phone. It rang until an automated voice said the mailbox was full. 

Finally, Bradley. He picked up at the last ring, breathless. “Y/N? Are you alright?” 

“I don’t know,” you whispered, heart racing. “I was walking and I'm in pain and I don’t know what to do.” 

“Oh Jesus.” There was a pause. Then, “Call an Uber, I’ll meet you at the hospital. That’ll be faster than me picking you up.” 

“Where’s Jake?” you demanded. “And Bobby.” 

“Test flight,” he replied. “Phoenix is with them. They’ll be gone for another few hours.” 

“I’m scared,” you admitted. 

“I know,” Bradley said. “So am I. I’m getting in my truck now, OK? I’ll meet you there, don’t worry.” 

***

True to his word, Bradley was there by the time they were placing your IV. 

“What happened?” he demanded. 

The nurse looked up. “This your boyfriend?” 

You shook your head furiously. “No.” 

She shrugged. “Too bad.” 

You rolled your eyes as she left the room. “That’s how they all are, you know,” you said as she eyed Bradley on her way out. “The second y’all step into a room wearing those outfits, girls go wild.” You flicked your hand at his green flight suit. 

Bradley stepped toward the bed. “As much as I’d love to hear how hot you think I am, so I can use it to taunt Seresin later, I need to know what happened.” 

“They don’t know yet,” you replied. “My blood pressure is a little high I guess? They’re running some labs.” 

He ran his hand through his hair and you reached out, pressing your fingertips to his other arm. “Hey. It’s OK. I’m really glad you’re here.” 

“I don’t know how you do this,” he whispered. “That’s not even my baby and I’m panicked.” 

“You’ll be a great father one day.” His brown eyes lit up. “Speaking of fathers, where’s the one responsible for this?” 

“Let me call the station again,” Bradley replied. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Hurry.” 

***

“Where is she?” Jake skidded to a stop in the waiting room as Bradley paced in a tight circle. 

“Thank fuck,” he muttered. 

“Bradshaw. Where is she?” 

“Room 219.” 

Jake practically sprinted down the hallway. Your neck snapped to the right as you heard the door bash open, Jake standing with his hair mussed from his helmet, still wearing his flight suit and a pair of standard issue boots. “What happened?” he demanded, stepping closer as his green eyes flicked over the screens on the monitors behind you.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “Relax.” 

“Relax?” Jake looked like his brains were going to burst out of his skull. “You’re joking, right? How the hell am I supposed to relax when I land and find out you’re in the damn hospital?”

“I thought military boys were good under pressure.” 

“There’s a difference,” Jake gritted out, “between gunning down enemy fire, and hearing that the mother of your child is in pain.” 

You grabbed his hand. “I’m fine,” you whispered. “Doctors said it was probably just Braxton Hicks contractions, nothing to worry about. They’re doing some blood and stress tests to make sure.” 

Jake dropped his head against your hand and you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his forehead. He looked up, surprised, mouth open just as the door swung on its hinge again, Bobby practically sprinting into the room. “What happened?” 

You rolled your eyes. “You boys are really needy aren’t you?” 

His ice blue eyes zeroed in on yours. “That’s my niece in there,” he said. “I want to know that she’s OK.” 

“I’m fine, too,” you pouted.

Bob leaned over, wrapping you into a hug. “Thank God.” 

As he leaned back, you shook your head. “Look at the two of you. Absolute messes.” Bob and Jake looked at each other, and you laughed. “Doctors said I should be able to go home in an hour. So Jake, why don’t you go tell Bradshaw he’s OK to leave. And thank him for me?” 

“Alright honey.” 

You winced as the nickname floated in the empty recesses of the room. Bob lifted an eyebrow as Jake disappeared through the door. “Honey?” 

You were silent. 

Bob leaned against the hospital bed. “I repeat, honey?” 

“Leave it alone, Bobby.” 

“You’re my sister, I deserve to know what’s going on.” 

“You don’t have to be dad,” you whispered. Bob looked up, angry, but you continued. “I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. I don’t need you watching out for me and policing everything I do.” He started to speak but you cut him off with one hand raised. “I love you. And I love you for taking care of me and looking out for me. But when I say I need you to trust me, I need you to ease up a little.” 

Bob sighed. “Sometimes, I don’t know who I am if I’m not looking out for you.” 

You smiled and grabbed his hand. “I think you owe it to yourself to have a little fun. Be a little wild.” 

He grinned. “Wild? No way.” 

“Go out, have fun, be reckless.” You patted your stomach. “Have a beer for me. Or five.” 

He shook his head and stood up. “Do you want me to drive you home or Jake?” 

“Jake.” 

Bob walked to the door and pulled it open. “I feel like a dad dropping his kid off at kindergarten for the first time, watching you walk away.” 

“You know when I get married someday, you’re going to have to be the one to give you away.” 

“Don’t know if I can do that, Ducky.” 

You frowned. “What?” 

Bob sighed. “I can’t give you away, Ducky. You never needed me that much. You never needed anyone. You were always enough, by yourself.” 

***

Jake wouldn’t let you out of his sight for even a minute from the moment the two of you stepped through the door. 

Finally, after you had settled into a pair of pajamas and eaten takeout, you turned to Jake. “You stink, by the way.” 

He furrowed his brows. “Excuse me?” 

“Go shower, please, I’m begging you.” 

He hesitated and you groaned. “What?” 

“You’re going to make me stand there, aren’t you?” you asked. “Like some overprotective new mother who puts her baby in a car seat and brings them into the bathroom while she takes a whore’s bath.” 

“Whore’s bath?” 

“You know. When you wash your private parts in the sink instead of taking a full shower.” 

Jake laughed. “I don’t know what’s funnier. The idea of you doing that, or the fact that you said private parts.” 

You shoved his arm playfully. “Shut up.” 

“Fine. I’ll shower. But you better not move until I’m back.” 

“Oh, what a threat,” you replied, snuggling deeper into the couch and flicking on the latest episode of Love Island. 

Jake emerged five minutes later, pulling a white t-shirt down over his still damp abs. Your eyes boggled for a moment before you could help yourself. “I saw that.” 

“I hate you.” 

“Stop being so mean to me, it’ll make me fall in love with you.” 

“You’re damaged goods, Seresin.” 

“You’re one to talk, Ducky.” 

“Ouch,” you giggled. “Is this foreplay?” 

Jake crawled onto the couch, crouching over you, one of his hands next to your head, the other brushing back the hair on your cheek. “Do you want it to be?” 

“Yes,” you breathed and Jake grinned. “But the doctor said I needed to wait at least forty-eight hours to make sure my blood pressure went down before I did any vigorous activity. And I have a feeling vigorous would be the right word choice.” 

Jake pulled back, a smirk across his handsome face. “Alright, let’s make a deal. I’ll plan a date for us on Friday. You pull out the sexiest dress you have and we’ll go out on the town.” 

You groaned. “Sexy dress? Are you kidding? I'm a whale.” 

“I’ll leave my card on the table. Buy a new dress.” 

“Jake, I can’t.” 

“It’s not a request, sweetheart,” he replied. “I like red on you.” 

Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:

@blue-aconite @withahappyrefrain @wkndwlff @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @gigisimsonmars @xomrsalliej4787xo @myfaveficrecs @mycobrakai1972 @sio-ina-bottle @joaquinwhorres @justanothermagicalsara @je-suis-prest-rachel @shanimallina87

@rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me  @kmc1989 @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @bbyvanessaa  @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @boiolay @sometimesanalice @na-ta-sh-aa @bobfloydsbabe @kmc1989 @rosiahills22 @palepeanutponyshoe @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @mel119g @daggerspare-standingby @grxcisxhy-wp @mrsjobarnes @csmt-m @rockbottompunk-blog @joaquinwhorres @xoxabs88xox @spinning-away @bobfloydsbabe

[thatsolacegirl]

Screenshot from Avengers Tower Yule Log released by Marvel.

This is the cutest thing ever. It's like, I'm transported to the 2012 Avengers era. Look at the stockings! 😭

Names on the stockings: Maria, Darcy, Clint, Thor, Tony, Pepper, Nat, Rhodey, Steve, Happy and Bruce.

(Also, Bruce's stockings😭😭😭😭)

[unholyhelbig]

oversight part 6 ??

Title: The Oversight [Part 6/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 6237

Warnings: SMUT UNDER 18 DNI, oral (r recieving), Dom/sub dynamic, slight mommy kink if you squint, fingering (r recieving), and horrible grammar

[A/n: This took literally all day because I hadn't started it until this morning, and it's now 12am. Good thing it's -15 degrees outside and I physically cannot leave my home. I haven't written Nat smut... ever. Go easy on me.]

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Natasha Romanoff knew how to handle a gun. She tested its weight; the mix of metal and plastic was familiar to her as lungs were to breathe. As ocean was to water, as sky was to rolling thunder. Handling a gun, especially while loaded, was a delicate process. She’d stroke the trigger, ghost her fingers over the barrel and expertly tease the weapon into doing exactly what she wanted.

Natasha Romanoff was not one to do anything without calculation, not one to do something without complete control. But, the soft noises that escaped your throat as she nipped across your jawline and licked over the burning bites to soothe the smallest bit of pain made her stop thinking. Stop calculating. It threatened to take her control.

Your back was up against the cool mahogany of her bedroom door. You’d barely gotten a chance to close it before her hands were all over you, and that floral scent invaded your lungs. You were frantic to pull her as close as possible, to feel her body fully against yours. You needed Natasha Romanoff more than you needed life itself. You needed her inside of you.

She seemed just as beside herself. Her nails ran up and down your sides, brushing against the exposed skin that the slit in that beautiful emerald dress provided. You were enamored with it earlier in the night. Now you were grateful for all the exposed parts of you, the hot touches and breathless kisses.

“So needy, malyshka” Natasha whispered between kisses. “You need me to take care of you, don’t you?”

Yes. You wanted that more than you could vocalize. Instead, you let out a groan that was muffled by her lips against yours. You understood the irony, feeling so safe with a woman who was one of the most feared within the city.

She reminded you in a gentle growl “words, baby, use your words.”

“Please, I need you.”

Natasha didn’t need another green light. She hauled you into her arms in a feat of strength, backing you onto the bed. The sheets were cool against your bare legs. The last time you’d been in this bed, you were in much worse shape. You preferred this, coming undone with Natasha’s wandering hands and damp kisses.

You hungrily pushed her jacket from her shoulders, brushing the pads of your fingers over her defined muscles. She smiled against your lips, throwing the expensive garment to the floor. You made quick work of the buttons down the front of her waistcoat, barely exposing the curve of her chest before her fingers reached up and grabbed yours.

“You’re far too clothed, darling.”

The objection was soft, and you were quick to comply when she pulled the dress up to expose your thighs. You lifted your hips and she moved the dress the rest of the way over your head, tossing it to the side. Her eyes raked hungrily over your dips and curves, hands caressing your sides, watching as your pulled air in and let it out in excitement.

“You knew this was going to happen?” Natasha said with a wolfish smile as she took in the lacy bra and panties that you wore.

“Hoped, really.”

“Do you have a safe word?”

“Do I need one?”

Her smile widened as she expertly slid the buttons from their proper place and pulled her waistcoat off. You were met with tanned skin, with a toned stomach and breasts that you itched to palm. She started to kiss along your neckline, down your chest, and the very start of your stomach. Expertly, she unhooked your own bra, tossing it in the same direction as your dress.

Natasha bit and sucked in the right places and your back arched in eager response. It distracted you from her wandering hands. You shuddered as she pushed past the elastic of your underwear, she brushed her finger up the length of your slit, and a breath got stuck in your throat.

“So wet already, just from a little teasing.”

“Natasha,” You moaned her name.

You squirmed as her touch moved lower, she kissed along your waistline, moved your underwear down your legs until you were fully exposed to her. She let out a content breath that was hot against your center, you fought the urge to press against her.

“Zaychik, I have a few rules,”

“Anything, just… anything.”

She kissed against your thighs, ever so close to you. It was driving you nuts, and while you trusted Natasha with your life, with your sanity, it was you who was struggling with control. You craved her touch and then resented how much you relied on it. You had never wanted anything more in your life.

“You belong to me. And that means, you can only cum when I give you permission.” You whined under her soft ministrations, bucking your hips forward. She bit hard against the expanse of your skin, enough to bruise. “Am I clear?”

“Y-yes, yes. Clear. Crystal. Baby please.”

Natasha hummed against you. “Good girl.”

Your cheeks heated at the positive reinforcement and your fingers curled into the expensive sheets. A gasp escaped you when her tongue met your folds. She licked expertly across the length of your center and an entirely pornographic noise left your throat when she stopped at your clit, sucking softly.

You could feel your heartbeat in your chest, pounding against your ribs in a perfect rhythm. Natasha slid a singular finger into you. It was painfully slow, and far from enough to fill you up. You resisted the urge to grind further into her. Another finger, another soft noise.

A combination of her quick movements and attention mouth brought you close to the edge embarrassingly fast. You had thought of this moment for months, how skilled she was, how your naked body would be writhing under her touch exactly as it was now.

When Natasha added a third finger, your mind started to grow foggy. You had known for awhile that you would do anything for her. It wasn’t a feeling that you shied away from in the slightest. Excitement was building in your core, breath coming quicker, sweat slicking against every inch of your body.

“Remember your manners, baby girl.” Natasha’s words vibrated against your core, making your squirm. “Not until I say.”

Her fingers curled inside of you, your walls tightening expertly around her. It took everything in you not to give in to her. There was an impossible pressure building inside of you. You gasped in as much air as you could muster.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You,” the answer came without hesitation. “Only you,”

“That’s right. You’re all mine, my little toy.”

Her words only worked you up more. You wanted to take care of her, wanted to worship her. You’d do anything she commanded. The word slipped past your lips without a second thought. She was working so hard to undo you. “Natasha… mommy”

Natasha let out a moan at the title, her pace increasing. She returned her hot mouth to your clit, circled it with your tongue expertly. She mumbled against you, words vibrating. “You can cum, princess.”

She didn’t’ have to tell you twice. You tightened around her fingers, arching off the bed as pure extasy washed over you. You clenched every part of your body, groaning into the crook of your arm to muffle the noise. Pleasure rolled over you, through the pit of your stomach.

Her mouth continued to work throughout the lingering pressure of your orgasm, threatening to build to another one. Natasha pulled her fingers from you with a wet noise. She breathlessly moved herself next to you, kissing your neck, your jawline. Natasha pressed her fingers against your lips, and you were eager and ready to accept them. 

You could taste yourself on her, sucking them as she nipped at your earlobe. She whispered, feeling hot against your skin. “Such a good whore, so willing and ready to suck anything. Take anything. I can’t wait to give you a strap.”

Your heart began to race at the thought, and she smiled against you, clear that she could feel the increase of the rhythm from your closeness. Natasha removed her fingers, she kissed you hard, and you kissed her back with just as much passion, pulling away slightly to stifle a yawn.

“Tired already, Zaychik?”

You chuckled “you wear me out. Though, I’m not too worn out to make you feel good.”

“Mm, you’ve already made me feel good. I think we should get some sleep.”

You wanted to fight her on it, body still trembling from the rolling orgasm she had given you. But exhaustion was fighting too and Natasha readjusted you both until you were settled gently into the crook of her neck, one arm lazily over her midsection. She was gentle and attentive with her movements. Brushing strands of your hair behind your ear. Who knew Natasha Romanoff was a cuddler?

A spring storm had taken full effect by the time you had crossed back into the city, but it seemed that nothing could dampen your mood. The clouds that formed in dark clusters and released sheets of rain were something of beauty, not despair. The day was still warm, the breeze cold to cut through the sweat that formed on your brow. You’d cracked the window, allowing stray drops to cool your skin.

You stopped by the mailbox on the bottom floor, wiggling the smallest key on your ring into the lock until it opened. You barely checked the mail and it was stuffed full of coupons, advertisements, and the occasional statement from Veronica’s after-school daycare.

You tucked the papers under your arm and started the long ascent to your floor. You avoided the nails that stuck up through cheap wood. The spots in the carpet that had been soaked through with water damage. None of it seemed to bother you.

“Good morning, Miss Baxter.” You mumbled to the older woman who always perched in front of her door in a busted lawn chair. She had a perfect view of her neighbor across the hall. Her little, crusty white dog barked in morse code at you.

“What’s so good about it? Raining buckets and everything in this godforsaken place leaks.”

“Well, I suppose that’s where the buckets would come in handy.”

She made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat but you were already a good portion of the way up the final flight of stairs. You pressed your shoulder tactfully against your apartment door pushing it open before you threw the mail on the table and flicked on the kitchen light. The air conditioning chilled you to the bone, drying the damp spots on your clothes.

There was a click in the far side of the room, one that was unfamiliar from the ticking of the air unit, or the settling of an old building. You were used to those noises. This was entirely too human for your liking, so you drew your gun in a fluid movement, much like the other night.

Without hesitation, flicking off the safety and aiming.

Darcy was sitting in the beaten recliner in the corner. There was an upturned book on the side of the chair. You weren’t sure how long she had been sitting there, but from the bags under her eyes, the way her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, you knew it had been awhile.

You instantly lowered the weapon, hands suddenly shaking. “Darcy, what are you-?”

“I… I knew that something was up these last few months. I thought you had started seeing someone, a regular at the diner, or, or God forbid the dude who works behind the grill. But when I went to the diner you weren’t even there. They said you hadn’t been there for months. And can you please put that thing away?”

“Sorry, I’m sorry” your words were pinched as you rebolstered your weapon. “I can explain.”

“Can you?” She stood, closing the distance between you both now that there wasn’t a loaded gun in the middle. You straightened up, heart pounding haplessly in your chest. “Because Monica Rambeau came up to me at work the other day and told me that you were lying. She… she wouldn’t tell me what, just that you weren’t being truthful, and I defended you, y/n.

“I defended you because you’re my best friend. You have been for years. I’ve stood by you through everything. Through meeting Ronnie’s father, and getting pregnant and comforting you when he left you- because he did leave both of you!”

“Darcy,”

“No. Let me finish. Let me finish. I’ve been here for you every step of the way. Every single step and the only thing that I’ve ever expected from you is honesty. Don’t you think I deserve that? Don’t you think Ronnie deserves that?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, watching her carefully as she caught her breath, and her bearings. You had only seen Darcy this angry once, and it had been years ago. Sophomore year of high school when her parents decided to split, and her father tried to get her to move to Washington state with him.

She fought and fought because they waited until the last minute to tell her. They weren’t truthful, and you hadn’t been truthful either. More importantly, in both situations, she had been right.

“The y/n I know, can’t draw a gun like that, and doesn’t come home covered in bruises, and doesn’t flinch into action at every little noise. The y/n I know wouldn’t have lied to me in the first place. So, what is going on?”

“Can we… sit?”

You didn’t entirely trust the strength of your legs right now. Parts of you were sore, you had realized that as you climbed the stairs. You could feel them trembling now and fought the urge to curl up on the carpet that was right under your feet.

“I’m fine standing.”

“A drink, then? It’s uh, it’s five somewhere, right?”

“y/n.”

“Right, yes. I know.”

And you did know, but only to a certain extent. If Monica hadn’t gone to Darcy, would you have? It was a single night of drunken lovemaking followed by a less-than-graceful exit into the cold of autumn. There was a tightness to seeing her again, and the underlying fear that this would happen. But so many things were happening.

“I am sorry that I haven’t been truthful with you, but you have to believe me, it was for your own safety. For Ronnie’s safety. I would never lie without a good reason.”

“Well, that’s subjective, isn’t it?” Darcy’s breathed “You always think you know what’s best for me, what’s best to hide from me. But you don’t know what I can handle.”

Okay, you absolutely needed that drink. Darcy wasn’t going to leave now, not without answers she was pushing so hard for. Ronnie was getting too tall for her own good, so you hid the good liquor in the cabinet above the fridge.

Bourbon, warm or not, was your choice and right now you couldn’t bother with ice, just a mug that you had gotten from a thrift store. It was from Cabo and had a little white sand beach and a flamingo wearing sunglasses on the front. You’d never been to Cabo.

The first sip went down burning, and the second soothed the first. “I took a loan.”

“Like, from a bank?”

“From a shark. Technically. They don’t call them that, but that’s what they are. I didn’t realize it at the time, or else I wouldn’t have, but I was already two months behind on rent and I refused to ask you to cover me again. That’s not your responsibility. You already do so much for me and Ronnie.”

She opened her mouth to object, to rush in and say that she would have given you anything and you knew she would. But that didn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t have asked her in the first place.

“I didn’t pay them back in time and they weren’t very lenient. They took me under their custody to persuade me into coming up with the money.”

“Persuade? Their custody?”

“Kidnapped… beat within an inch of death. Whatever way you look at it, I was on their bad side.”

With horrible judgement you filled up another two fingers of whisky, only swallowing half but making eye contact with Darcy as you had done so. Simmering behind her deep blue stare was a mix of pity you were desperate to avoid. It soon dwindled back into discontent and that made you want to continue.

“I was spared on account that I wasn’t their usual clientele. Natasha, she called me… shit, what was it? An oversight? I was a blip in the system. I wasn’t supposed to happen and for that reason, and that reason alone, she offered me an ultimatum.”

Darcy sidled up to the counter that rested like a drawn line between you both. Her fingers tapped nervously on the surface but some of the tension had drained from her shoulders. “Natasha? That.. woman from the fair? The one with Clint?”

“Oh, Clint, you remember?” You smiled.

“He’s strong. Rugged.” She shrugged, frowning “That’s not the point. You’re telling me he’s a part of this sharking business? You’re telling me you let a known criminal that close to your daughter? To me?”

“I get how that sounds bad, Dee, but he’s really not a horrible guy. He’s a father himself and you’re right. You’re right. It’s not the point.” You swallowed the second half of your drink and placed the novelty mug in the sink to stop yourself from polishing off more of the bottle. “They gave me an ultimatum.”

“An ultimatum?”

“I could kill myself working at the diner everyday for the rest of my life. Twelve-hour shifts with most of the funds feeding right back into their palms. It would take decades to give back the money I took from them. Or, I could work for Natasha and pay off my debts in a quarter of the time.”

Silence filled the room. The only type of silence that you knew, that was filled with the sounds of the city. Your neighbors to the left were having a fight that seemed bigger than the one you and Darcy had now. A boombox blasted reggae music across the street and certain beats bled through the thin glass windows.

You swallowed the acrid flavor on your tongue. “For the last four months instead of the diner, I have been with Natasha. With Clint. They’ve been teaching me, and at first, I hated every single second of it. I was scared for… for weeks. But, Darcy, I’m starting to enjoy it and that scares me more than anything.”

“I need to sit down,” She mumbled.

“I offered,”

“I know.”

She flopped down onto the sofa that folded out into a bed. You’d slept there for a month when Darcy’s apartment was being fumigated and you refused to make her take the couch. It was hell on your back, but Ronnie had never been happier to wake up to the both of you each morning.

It carried a familiar clean scent. Darcy pulled a blanket into her lap and ran her fingers over the bumps in stitching. You cautiously lowered yourself down next to her, starting to feel the effects of an empty stomach and too much liquor for the afternoon. You were suddenly nauseous and starving all at once.

“There’s more,” Darcy said, “What you just told me was a lot, but there’s more. I know you, y/n, and I’m giving you an opportunity here to tell me everything.”

You sighed, slumping on the couch. You could feel the bar in the center of the couch push against your spine. There was a crack in the ceiling next to a gray and brown water stain that looked like a Rorschach test.

“Natasha. I think I’m in love with her.” You could hear Darcy turn her head with a dizzying quickness. “I’m not supposed to be, it’s the last thing I’m supposed to be. I’m supposed to be protecting her and that’s incredibly hard to do when I’m distracted by her eyes.”

Darcy was laughing and it lightened the mood in the room. The tension was still thick enough to slice with a knife, but it was enough to get you to look at her. “You’ve got it bad, huh?”

“The worst.”

“You really think this is what’s best, huh? Putting yourself into the line of fire like this? Handling a gun?”

“I do. I really, really do.” You picked up her hand, relieved that she didn’t pull away so you squeezed it, just to make sure that it was real. That she hadn’t run at the first sign of trouble. “I always tell Ronnie that I’d get us out of here one day. All of us. And I never knew how to do that on $2.00 an hour.”

Darcy sighed heavily; she leaned her head on your shoulder. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know. But some risks you just have to take.”

The sun had broken through the clouds for the first time in days. It streamed through the windows of Natasha’s private office, nestled at the back of the large house. In the past week, you had been here twice and each time your heart thudded impossibly fast.

This time, she had summoned you before you were through the doors for your normal shift. There were no extra caveats. You weren’t meant to head down to the docks, or to one of the many storefronts that were rented from the Romanoff family. Instead, you were simply meant to be here.

The home was empty, you knew from the lack of cars that were outside. Natasha’s was the only one in the lot besides yours. There was a certain quiet to the day and the French doors that led to her private office were ajar to strengthen the airflow.

She was focused on the work in front of her, hair in a messy bun and two strands falling from her haphazard job. There were black frame glasses on her face. Her face was scrunched up in a frankly adorable expression. It softened when she glanced up and saw you, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

Much to your dismay, she removed her glasses “Come in, close the doors behind you.”

You did as you were told, letting them fall with the subtle shake of the blinds. They’d been closed but a small stream of golden light was splayed across Natasha’s desk. It caught the intensity of her eyes, the sharp green color that only came out when she was surrounded by these walls.

“Sit,”

Obediently, you moved to do so, pulling one of the leather chairs out from its spot on the other side of the desk. You felt shame, despite last night. She was still your boss, still the person you were meant to protect. That’s what you were being altered for.  

“Not there.”

You lifted your eyebrows, halting in your spot. Natasha pushed back in her rolling chair, ever so slightly. She gestured vaguely to her lap. She can’t be serious? This had to be some type of test? It didn’t seem like one. You certainly wouldn’t mind having her arms wrapped around you, her scent enveloping, intoxicating.

Cautiously, you did as you were told, lowering yourself onto Natasha’s lap. There was an overwhelming warmth, a destined comfort to being in her arms, so much safety in the simple gesture of her pulling you close.

She guided your chin until your lips were close to hers, not quite touching. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi,” You responded before closing the distance. She hummed into the kiss, her tongue running over her lips, against the roof of your mouth. You could taste her morning coffee and a hint of mint.

“I missed you.”

“It’s been two days,”

She hummed, pressing her cold nose against your throat. The weekends were reserved for relaxation, and as much as you wanted to stay with Natasha in this giant house, you had a life within the city; a daughter, friends, responsibility.

“I don’t want you work for me anymore.”

You frowned and pulled slightly away from her, your arms still circling her neck. This certainly had to be a test but there was no indication to such on her face. She had nothing but a tender expression, a quiet one that left no room for argument, but you weren’t built like that.

“What?”

“I,” Natasha dipped her gaze, pressing her forehead against your cheek. Her words were a whisper. “I don’t want you to get hurt. You can’t get hurt if I don’t put you in the line of fire.”

There were a few moments of silence aside from the large clock on one of the bookshelves that clicked with each passing second. Natasha had never been vulnerable with you like this. There had been moments of soft expressions, but never this.

Gently, you lifted her chin, forcing her to look at you. “Natasha, I can’t do that. I can’t just stop protecting you. It’s all I’ve been training for these last months.”

“I want to offer you something more, y/n. You and Ronnie both. I want you to have a home here… with me.”

You breathed her in, your forehead against hers. Your eyes were closed, but you could feel her watching you for any kind of reaction, anything that would give your feelings away. She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture making your shudder against her.

“I want that too. But more than anything, I want to keep you safe. I still want this. I still want to be there for you like I have been. Behind you every step of the way.” You chuckled sadly, “While being a trophy girlfriend sounds amazing, I want to earn my keep.”

Natasha smiled at you, “Girlfriend? That’s quite the title.”

“I mean it,” you played with her necklace, an equally as small gold chain. “I want to keep training. Girlfriend or not. If you’re going to keep me around.”

She moved forward, kissed against the small expanse of skin behind your ear, down the side of your neck. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Mmhm, but I was serious about you and Ronnie.” She pulled back, brushing her thumb over your flushed cheek. “I like you, y/n. You make me happy.”

Before you could respond, her lips were against yours again, her hands tracing up your sides. You were well aware of how close the two of you were, of how easy it was to get heated in this position, of Natasha’s cold fingertips as they ghosted under the hem of your shirt.

“I brought pizza from that place on the corner that you like,” You balanced the large and greasy box on your hip. It wasn’t your favorite place, the man behind the counter was always rude and the line was out the door. But it was for good reason, you had to admit, because the food was always delicious and made you forget about all the complications.

Darcy ate pineapple on her half the pizza like a criminal. You and Veronica were content with pepperoni, but you’d have to sprinkle extra parmesan cheese on her slices, cutting them into small pieces and providing her with a fork.

There was quiet to Darcy’s apartment. One that reminded you of the many times you had pulled your weapon in preparation. Your hands were full with the box, with a plastic bag filled with off-brand soda and two-dollar movies that were on the shelf at the corner store.

You struggle to swallow your own fear at the sight that lies in front of you. The television is muted, but a cartoon continues to cast the living room in a pale, blue light. Darcy is sprawled on the couch, her chest rising and falling in what seems to be a heavy sleep.

The light above the oven is on and the kitchen table is far from unoccupied. Ronnie looks up at your entrance, content with the array of markers, colored pencils, and crayons that are scattered in front of her.

Carol Danvers sits in an adjacent chair, working on staying in the lines of her own picture. You weren’t close enough to see what she had drawn, but based on her track-record you were sure it was something ghastly.

Monica Rambeau sat in the recliner, a mug of something steaming in her hand. Her eyes were trained on the television despite the lack of sound. They didn’t flick to you when you entered. She was confident that you weren’t going to make a move. Cocky.

“Is that from Ginos?” Carol asked, capping the marker that she was using. “God, they have the best pizza.”

“Yeah, it is.” You whispered.

Cautiously, you let the door close behind you. With an almost domestic way about you, you set the box and the bags down on the counter before wiping the sweat on your jeans. You made quick eye contact with Monica. She nodded at you, regarded you quietly.

“Sit, I was just telling Veronica that she’s very good at coloring. You’ve got a real artist on your hands, Y/n.”

“So, I’ve been told.” You sat down, keeping both of your hands on the table. Kate told you that it was a sign of trust. That if you were quick enough, and she was sure that you were, it wouldn’t matter how far away your weapon was. “What did you do to Darcy?”

“Oh, she’s just so exhausted. Sometimes working a nine-to-five will just take it right out of you. She’ll wake up tomorrow morning after some much needed rest.”

You nodded; mouth incredibly dry. Carol was watching you carefully. She had scribbled something that looked like a mass of color but the more you stared, just like the stain on the ceiling in your own apartment, the more it looked like something more.

She laughed, shaking her head “I’m afraid I’m not as good of an artist as your daughter.”

Ronnie looked at you, her eyes searching your face. It was easy to read her. You had for years. There was curiosity there, but no fear. Carol had probably led with something along the lines of I’m friends with your mother.

Or maybe it had been Monica who forced her way in first. She’d wandered into the kitchen and opened the box of food. Her nose scrunched up at the prospect of fruit on pizza, but she made quick work of picking off the offensive items.

Carol pushed the sheet of paper close to you. “Tell me, y/n, what do you see?”

“I… I don’t know. It looks like a duck.” She lifted her eyebrows, looking or more, and you confidently pointed to each element. “The beak is right here, and the eye is here.”

“Right.” Carol made a swift movement and flipped the photo. “What does it look like now?”

For someone that claimed not to have a good eye for art, Carol sure had a high opinion of a diagram she’d created with a few waxy crayons. It wasn’t the best drawn creature, but you got the general idea.

“A rabbit.”

Carol beamed at you and it made you feel sick to your stomach. “Clever one, aren’t you? Do you see how the world can be viewed in more than one way? To you, this could be a duck, or a rabbit, or just a poorly drawn abstract painting.”

“It’s very well done.”

“Don’t flatter me. I know what I’m capable of. I know what I’m up against. More importantly, I need you to know that sometimes, perspective can change everything.” She leaned back in her chair, rolling a crayon under her fingertips. “The Romanoff family is on the wrong side of an ongoing war, and by association, so are you.”

Veronica got out of her chair then, finally losing interest in the activity that was given to her. Monica and Carol tensed, as did you. But your daughter gave you a look that indicated television. Something else to occupy her mind. You let out a shaky breath.

“Sure, baby. Keep it low, okay?”

She nodded at you and scrambled over to the living room. There were soft noises from the cartoons afterwards. She sat patiently close to the screen to she could hear. She minded you well, hugging a throw-pillow close to her chest.

“It was very easy to track you down. Did you know that? Almost as easy to get in here, to have full access to your life. The life you had before you met Natasha Romanoff.” Carol reached into her coat pocket, she pulled out a business card. “You need to choose a side. If you’re going to stick around in this town, you need to choose a side, or get better locks.”

She left it on the table along with the smattering of art supplies and her crudely drawn photo that was supposed to teach you about perspective. Though, you were certain you knew all you needed to. There wasn’t even a question.

Carol stood and gestured for Monica to follow. She clapped you on the shoulder before she left, her words just the quietest of whispers. “I understand her allure, y/n. But there’s more than one force to deal with in this city.”

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[kcsplace]

Top Gun Silliness

[starlightshadowsworld]

You remember that era, where all the fics were the Avengers being best friends living in Avengers Tower.

Thor's obsessed with pop tarts and Hawkeyes in the vents for some reason.

Natasha steals everyone's clothes, Tony and Bruce are Science Bros TM doing all kinds of chaos in the labs.

Steve's sketchbook is beside him and Jarvis is helping him figure out his new phone.

I really want that era for the current MCU.

Just

Kamala and Darcy making lists of all the classics Carol needs to watch.

Yelena winning family game night. Demands Jimmy teachers her his card tricks.

Sam and Shang trying to out dance each other and pulling out the DDR machines.

Kate casually spoiling her friends.

While Bucky and Katy collect bets.

Monica and Wanda watching sitcoms together on rainy nights.

Zemo and Sharon showing up like they aren't both wanted criminals to watch horror movies.

[almondcroissantsandink]

Hiiii, idk if you take requests ??? Uhhhh I just LOVE your top gun art and I wondered if you could draw some Bobnix (platonic or romantic idc it's to your liking) thanks if you do and you have a hello from France !!! 🩷

@noramfrd HECK yeah I'll draw them!! <3 <3 <3 How could I say no to such a kind request?? The dream team  ☆ ☆ ☆ :)

[k9effect]

Bob's number one hype woman

[click for better quality, reblogs appreciated]

[sluttyhenley]

You'll have to contend with any planes already in the air. The moment those Tomahawks hit, the enemy will know you're coming. Your time to target will be two minutes and thirty seconds. Any longer than that and you will be exposed to any aircraft the Tomahawks may have missed. This is what you've all been training for. Come home safely.

TOP GUN: MAVERICK (2022) dir. Joseph Kosinski

[peachesandcreames]

Feeling Some Kinda Way 💞💕