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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

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The House Party - ep.03 - JJ Maybank

Summary: Things start to heat up as the week reaches its midway point and you make a decision that changes everything.

A/N: Mild smut at the very end of the chapter.

The S’week Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

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You weren’t sure how many times you would have to brush your teeth to get the taste of last night out of your mouth but the three times you already had clearly weren’t enough. It wasn’t alcohol, in fact you’d woken up more sober than you expected to be, almost leaning off the edge of your bed, tucked into your blanket, with JJ laying on top of the bedding beside you. It was all very ‘one motel bed’ trope-ish but you’d both been so exhausted last night that you couldn’t even enjoy the implications of it. An ice cube tray of melted aloe vera sat on the night stand and you brought it down with you to the kitchen to refreeze when you decided coffee might help the taste that wouldn’t leave your mouth. 

To put it the only way you knew how, a way JJ would have definitely put it, you tasted kook trash every time you swallowed and it wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, at least not while Rafe was two houses down from you. 

“Morning,” Pope voice half startled you as you entered the kitchen to find him sitting at the island eating cereal. 

“How is it possible that you look so normal?” You asked, grabbing a bowl for some cereal yourself. Breakfast was a good distraction from your phone and the taste in your mouth. 

“You mean as opposed to John B and Sarah who decided to parent trap it on a floatie in the pool?” He asked, turning for emphasis to look outside where your best friend and her boyfriend were indeed asleep on a floatie in the pool. 

“Exactly.” 

“I’m not a big drinker.” He shrugged. “What about you?”

“Am I a big drinker?” You asked. 

“No, how did you end the night?” 

You nodded your head slowly, realising what he was getting at with his question. “JJ was sick, I figured it was better to come back here than make him stay at the party.” 

“Sure.” He agreed though it sounded empty, “did you hook up?” 

“What?” 

“Look, I know how JJ parties, he’s my best friend. And I know what his ‘senior week plans’ were before Sarah hijacked them to come down here. I wouldn’t put it past him to alter them. You know, have sex with as many girls as he can in the keys. Host included.”

“We didn’t have sex.” You replied. 

He stared at you for a full minute, not saying anything, as if the look on his face alone would crack you into admitting some misdeed. And it probably would have if any had occurred. 

“We didn’t have sex, I swear to god.” You reiterated. “It is what I said it is. JJ was throwing up in the bathroom and I brought him back here so he could rest. That’s all that happened.” 

“With JJ.” Pope scoffed. 

“Whoa, where’s the displaced animosity coming from...pretty sure you’re in my house.” 

“Yeah and JJ is my best friend. I don’t want you stringing him along for the week cause you’re bored and you wanna make your ex jealous or something.” Pope replied.

“You literally just got done telling me that JJ wanted to sleep his way around s’week but I’m the bad guy in your head because of some proposed plan I have to ‘make my ex jealous’?” You questioned. “That’s un-fucking-believable.”

“It would be if I hadn’t seen you in the hallway with your ex right before you left with JJ.” 

“You’re delusional. My ex who? Just cause I was talking to some guy-“

“You weren’t talking and it was Rafe.” 

You shut your mouth, lips pressed together in a line as you tried to think of something to say. Sure, it was common knowledge amongst your friend group that you and Rafe had been hooking up for the better part of two years but that was over and you really didn’t think it was the kind of thing that pogues talked about. And you trusted Sarah not to have blabbed about it to anyone else. 

“How’d you know-“ 

“How’d I know you and Rafe were a thing? Sarah’s not the only one here that knows you. I’ve seen him at your house before when I delivered groceries, not so hard to put two and two together.” 

“Well me and Rafe are over.” 

“You didn’t look over.” Pope challenged. 

“Oh well, thank you for interpreting two fucking minutes of my life and deciding how I feel about something.” You snapped, “I didn’t want him to kiss me okay, I told him to leave me alone. It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that the word no isn’t exactly a part of his vocab.”

Before Pope could say anything back the sound of footsteps on the stairs caught your attention. Both of you looked toward the staircase in time to see JJ appear, shirtless with just a pair of swim shorts on. His shoulders and chest were red but not as burnt as his back, which you caught a glimpse of as he trudged passed you, not in the high spirits he had been yesterday morning. 

“Dude, your back looks painful.” Pope commented, staring at the expanse of angry red skin that looked more ready to blister than anything. 

“It feels painful too.” JJ grumbled. So far he was 0-3 with vacation. He was stuck in this kook house (which really wasn’t so bad but he enjoyed bitching about it), he was sunburnt to hell, and he’d wasted an entire night of partying throwing up from sun-poisoning (though that worked out in his favour too because he definitely enjoyed the part where he sat on your bed and you rubbed aloe ice cubes on his back and basically took care of him). 

“Guess the beach is out of the question?” Pope asked, getting up to put his bowl in the sink. 

“I can go to the beach.” 

“You definitely can’t.” You replied, coming around to look at JJ’s back. He was sitting on one of the stools, slumped over. “You shouldn’t get anymore direct sun on your back.” 

“Oh cool, I’m so glad I came all the way down to fucking Florida to sit in a house all day and do shit.” 

“Sorry man,” Pope said, though he made no offer to stay at the house. Yesterday had been great and he was looking forward to going to the beach again today with Kiara. John B and Sarah had mentioned tagging along but he knew they’d eventually go off to do their own thing. 

“We could go to the boardwalk?” You offered, ignoring the look that Pope sent your way. You knew he was just being a good friend, looking out for someone he cared about, and it made you wish that Sarah knew enough to do the same for you. 

“What will we do on the boardwalk?” JJ asked, curious enough that he wasn’t immediately rejecting the idea. 

“There’s a water park there and an arcade, plus you know, tons of food.” You shrugged, “I know you wanna go to the beach-“

“I can be persuaded.”

“I think you already have been.” Pope commented. 

The three of you turned your attention to the stairs as Kiara came down, already dressed for the beach. When she saw the three of you in various states of sleepwear she rolled her eyes, “hey Kie be ready early so we can all go to the beach together.” 

“Technically, Sarah said that and she’s passed out in the pool still.” Pope replied, pointing out the glass doors to where the floatie was still carrying John B and Sarah on the water. 

“Let’s wake ‘em up then.” JJ slipped passed you, winking, before he ran outside, jumping into the pool and landing directly on top of John B and Sarah. 

You, Pope, and Kiara rushed to the doors in time to see the floatie flip over, all three teens going under as Sarah shrieked and John B tried to grab any part of the inflatable raft. Sarah surfaced immediately after JJ, throwing her body on him and wrapping her arms around his neck as she tried to push him under. 

“You asshole!” She screamed when JJ ducked under the water, twisting in her arms and grabbing her waist so that he could throw her off him. 

You watched them for a minute longer, as John B finally got involved, before heading back into the house and going upstairs to change. You’d left your phone plugged in the bathroom outlet while you were sitting with JJ and you picked it up now to check your messages. Two from Rafe and one, unsurprisingly, from Topper. It’d been him at the end of the hall that called Rafe away from you. 

-You okay?- was all the text said and you quickly responded. 

-Nothing happened. Thx-

You deleted the messages from Rafe without looking at them. You could hear everyone come in the kitchen, footsteps on the stairs as John B, Sarah, and JJ came up to change. You pulled on a crop top and some shorts, pocketing your phone before hurrying downstairs. 

Kiara and Pope were back to hanging around the island, talking to each other about their plans as you entered. 

“Hey, do you guys wanna meet up later on the boardwalk?” Kiara asked, “we could do dinner or something?”

“Sounds good to me.” You replied, grabbing your backpack from the chair and making sure that you had everything you needed. “There’s a pizza place near the South street entrance that has incredible food, plus it’s super cheap.” 

“I do love cheap food.” 

You had locked your shorts and your backpack in the rented locker of the water park along with JJ’s backpack before the two of you headed for any of the rides. Both your phones locked away in your backpack, cutting you both off from the rest of the world for however long JJ felt like staying at the water park. 

“So? Where to first?” You asked as JJ stopped in front of a mounted map of the park. It wasn’t as big as Dorney or Six Flags but it was pretty expansive for being an extension of the boardwalk. 

“Shush, I’m consulting the map.” 

“Consult the bones,” you said and JJ laughed, casting you a glance before going back to the map. 

“Come on,” he grabbed your hand suddenly, having zeroed in on a ride titled the constrictor, 450 feet of enclosed water slide and the two of you were going down it. 

He weaved his way through the crowd of people, leading you closer and closer to the line for the slide. Most people were at the beach on the weekdays which meant a shorter wait line, something JJ was happy about. It was bad enough he was spending his day at some dumb water park with you, he didn’t want to have to wait in line too. Although, he hadn’t let your hand go yet. 

“Should I mention before or after we ascend these stairs that I have a mild fear of heights?” You asked, taking the raft that was offered to you by the water park employee. 

“It’s fine,” JJ assured you, “here go ahead of me.” 

“How does this help?” You asked as you stepped in front of him onto the first stair. 

JJ shifted his raft under his arm, pressing it against his body and holding onto the railing while he used his other hand to hold you, fingers brushing the skin above your bikini bottoms as he held your waist. “See.”

You bit your lip and took a deep breath, “yeah I see.” 

The rest of the way up the stairs JJ kept his hand on either your waist or your back. He wasn’t too thrilled with heights either though focusing on the peach bikinis bottoms you wore, little pineapples polkadotting them. He could imagine you totally smacking him in the face of you knew but he’d take his chances. 

As sly as he might’ve thought he was being you knew he was looking. When you turned around at the first platform before the stairs twisted you caught him looking down, eyes darting up quickly when he realized you were looking at him. You didn’t say anything, just turned back around so he wouldn’t see the satisfied smile on your face.

“You ready for this?” JJ asked as you stepped onto the final platform, JJ stepping up behind you.

“I’ll see you at the bottom Maybank.” You replied, stepping over to your slide while JJ got set up at his.

You liked waterparks for the lazy rivers and the wave pools and those crazy contraptions for kids that looked like towering pipes and dumped water on you. Even the log flume was fun. But giant enclosed slides that shot you through winding loops for endless feet until finally dumping you in a pool? Not your favorite. But as you looked over at JJ, who flashed you a thumbs up, you were having trouble thinking about the things you didn’t like.

The slide was over before you knew it and you were climbing out of the pool, JJ standing on the side waiting for you. “How did you beat me?”

“I’m like speed racer,” he said, making a wooshing sound as he glided one hand under the other like a wave.

“Well, speedracer, what next?” You asked, taking off your soaked shirt and wringing it out as you followed JJ back to the map. “Are we consulting the map again?”

“What you think I memorized it?” He asked, looking back over his shoulder at you and grabbing your hand when a woman with a stroller tried to squeeze between the two of you.

By the time you and JJ met up with Kiara and Pope and made it back to the house Sarah was already setting up for a party. John B had obviously been enlisted to help as he was trying to adhere light stripes at the top of the wall in the living room.

“What’d you do rob a liqour store?” You asked, grabbing the leg of the ladder he was on when he leaned to far to the left.

“Feels like it.” John B replied, “Sarah filled a cart. We’re either having a party or she’s turning into everyone’s alcoholic grandmother.”

“We’re having a party!” Sarah called, coming in from the pool area, “it’s exactly what we need.”

“Why do we need to host a party?” Kiara asked, looking back at JJ and Pope but they just shrugged, obviously not willing to get involved.

“Because morale is low here people.” Sarah replied, “and it’s senior week, duh.”

“Duh.” You repeated, raising your eyebrows and grinning at JJ who laughed. Sarah watched the interaction skeptically, as far as she knew John B’s best friend had complained of nothing but a bad time. Now he was joking with you like the two of you were friends.

“Can I talk to you,” she grabbed your arm to pull you out of the room, “Pope hold the ladder!”

“Oh cool the bathroom.” You muttered as she dragged you into the hall powder room, shutting the door behind her and trapping the two of you in the crammed space. “What’s up?”

“What’s up? What’s going on with you and JJ?”

“Didn’t we do this literally yesterday?” You questioned, “I said then and I'll say now, JJ and I are barely friends.”

“Except when I texted Kie earlier cause I couldn’t get a hold of you she said you and JJ were on the boardwalk together.”

“Oh, oh my god Sarah, you’re right, something is clearly ‘going on’ because I went on the boardwalk with someone instead of just ignoring the people living in my house.” You rolled your eyes at her accusation that something was going on though you sincerely hoped something was.

When she finally released you from the bathroom the two of you resumed getting ready before you changed into something more appropriate for the party. NC parties were slow going in the early hours until they finally picked up, mostly just crowds of people crammed in an empty rental or spread out on the beach. House parties in the Keys happened a little more erratically. People showed up while it was still light out, hanging around the pool drinking and shit talking until it got dark and they all migrated inside, drunk off their asses and louder than necessary.

You had moved the table and chairs in the dining room and pushed all the furniture back in the living room for good reason because the minute the sun went down it felt like everyone was spilling back into the house for part 2. You were in the kitchen, ignoring most everyone there, watching JJ set up a shot for Kiara.

“Is it lime and then salt or salt and then lime?” He asked, glancing at you.

You were leaned against the counter beside him and Kiara was on the other side with Pope, who already said twice he wanted no part in this. “Lime first, how else does the salt stick right? I don’t remember...I know how to do a body shot.”

“Are you offering?” The grin on JJ’s face as he asked had you practically melting in your spot.

“Guys!” Kiara leaned across the island, snapping her fingers, “can we please just do the shot!”

“Right, sorry.” You apologized, grabbing the bottle of tequila to pour for them.

While the three of you were talking Pope spun in his chair, observing the louder parts of the party that was raging on the first floor. There were a few people lingering in the kitchen with you, mostly to be closest to the alcohol, but otherwise everyone was contained to the living room, dining room, and pool. When he looked out the glass doors to the pool area he frowned, “hey guys, look who showed up.”

You looked out the door to see Topper on the patio chatting with some local. “I’ll be right back.”

“Can we just enjoy the party?” Pope called though you were already slipping out the door.

“Top,” you called not caring that you were interrupting him, “can I talk to you?”

He apologized to the girl before placing his hand on your back and leading you further away from the party, stopping once the two of you had stepped onto the sand path down to the beach. “Look, someone texted Rafe about the party alright.”

“Well I don’t want you guys here.” You replied, “you weren’t invited by me and it’s my house.”

“Hey come on, you know me alright, I’m not trying to start anything-”

“Doesn’t sound like the Topper I know.”

“That wasn’t me alright, Sarah made me a little crazy, I'll admit. But I’m over that.” Topper replied. “I don’t understand why you and Rafe broke up and suddenly you can’t hang with any of us.”

“Are you still friends with Rafe?”

“That’s not fair, we’ve been-”

“I don’t care. You know what happened. You want me to be friends with you Top? After what you and Kelce did. Look, thanks for last night but I don’t need your guilty conscience looking out for me. I need you to get your boys and get the fuck out my house.”

“Putting on the tough act for Topper?” Rafe’s voice came from behind you and you closed your eyes, jaw tensing at the sound.

“It’s fine man, we’re just talking.” Topper replied, stepping closer to you.

You opened your eyes and turned around to see Rafe and Kelce standing there, “actually I will tell you the same thing I told Top, get the fuck off my property.”

“Damn,” Rafe whistled, “you start hanging with the pogues and suddenly you think you’re tough shit.”

“Hey man, let’s just forget it.” Topper said, getting between you and Rafe.

Rafe put his hand on Topper’s shoulder, guiding him out of the way, “you go ahead, I need to talk to my girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend.” You replied, “I said we were done and I meant it.”

Pope had been watching you talk to Topper from the kitchen door and when he saw Rafe and Kelce join the two of you on the catwalk he’d broken up JJ and Kiara’s shot game to tell them something was going down and you were out there alone.

“Maybe she’s just talking to them.” Kiara shrugged, “I mean, she is a kook. Her and Rafe used to date too so...”

“She dated Rafe?” JJ asked, eyes wide at the implication.

“Oh yeah, she broke it off a couple times but they always got back together. Sarah told me she thinks they might get back together again.”

Pope frowned, thinking of the way you had looked this morning when he accused you of doing just that, “I don’t think so. We should make sure she’s okay.”

“I’ll get John B.” Kiara replied, making her way to the living room to find John B and Sarah.

JJ and Pope meanwhile, headed outside, coming up behind Kelce just as you told Rafe that you were never getting back together with him. You saw the two of them passed Kelce’s shoulder and your best at a subtle shake of the head, a silent ‘please go back inside’. But Topper saw them too and alerted Rafe to their presence.

“Kelce wasn’t lying Maybank, you really have turned into a guard dog haven’t you.” Rafe said, turning his full attention on JJ. Topper pulled you to the other side of the path and pushed you behind him as Kiara, Sarah, and John B walked up.

“Fuck off Rafe, you aren’t welcome here.” Kiara cut in before JJ could reply.

“I didn’t know you owned the place.” Kelce challenged.

“I already fucking told you to go!” You said, “so go!”

Rafe only smiled, looking at JJ still, “what pair you guys make man. A bitch and her dog.”

Without warning JJ lunged forward, shoving Rafe back and swinging, trying to punch him. When Kelce tried to grab him John B intervened, getting Kelce in a choke hold. It took a second for all six of the boys to become involved in the fight as Kiara urged Sarah to call the cops. Rafe punched JJ, sending him back into the sand and getting on top of him, hitting him repeatedly while Topper held off Pope and John B and Kelce fought with each other.

“Stop it,” Kiara grabbed at Topper, trying to pull him off Pope and Sarah just stood there frozen.

You went for Rafe, trying to push him off JJ. When you grabbed his arm he pulled away only to throw his elbow back, colliding with your stomach and sending you to the ground. It was all the momentum that JJ seemed to need to shove Rafe off him and get the upper hand, kicking him in the stomach a couple times.

“Get the fuck out!” He shouted, spitting on your ex-boyfriend.

Topper let go of Pope and grabbed Rafe’s arm, helping him up and pulling him away, Kelce breaking away from John B and following them back to theirs, away from the party. The six of you stood there in silence, trying to process what had just happened.

“Some party.” Pope finally said and Kiara glared at him.

“Didn’t I say this week would be shit.” JJ said, looking over at you before turning and heading out toward the beach.

“Let’s just go back inside.” Sarah pleaded.

“Why were they even here?” Pope asked, casting a glance your way.

“Topper said someone texted Rafe about the party.” You said, “could have been anyone...he’s been down here with me before, he knows some of my Keys friends.”

“Whatever,” Kiara cut in, “we have three days left and I would love if we could just, not see them again for 72 hours. Is that possible?”

“I hope so.”

“I had a feeling you’d still be out here.” You said, walking up behind JJ on the beach. The light from the houses behind you did little to illuminate the night. The waves were lapping up the sand at JJ’s feet and he made no sign that he even knew you were there. You dropped the blanket you had around your shoulders and sat down, not bothering to straighten out the corners. “I know you’re pissed-“

“I’m not pissed.” He said, digging his heels in further. “I just...you and Rafe, seriously?” 

“It was different, at the beginning.”

“That’s just an excuse.”

“Maybe but...I was 14 when we first started dating and I really thought he liked me. But, he just liked that I was insecure and he tries to remind me of that every time he sees me.” You explained. “Rafe being down here doesn’t change what happened at the water park, I didn’t just kiss you because of him.” 

It’d happened during the lazy river ride that you had forced JJ to go on. He had spent most of the ride pushing your innertube with his foot and trying to tip you until it finally happened and you went over, sputtering to the surface and trying to grab at your inflatable tube as passersby tried to avoid the two of you. You’d pushed his innertube over in retaliation and he’d abandoned it to grab you and try to dunk you underwater.

Serendipitous maybe, as you twisted in his arms, turning to face him, he’d leaned down and kissed you.

“He keeps showing up.”

“I didn’t invite him.” 

JJ looked back at you before rubbing the heel of his hand across his cheeks and sniffing to get rid of the literal waterworks he’d been two seconds away from. This wasn’t the vacation he had signed up for. And maybe there had been some good parts so far but the complicated bits were starting to outweigh everything else. Still, he shifted back so he could sit on the blanket with you; a step in the right direction you hoped. 

“What’s in the bag?” He asked, looking over at the backpack you’d carried all the way out here with you. 

“I didn’t think you would want to go back to the party so I brought the party with me.” You replied, unzipping the main compartment to reveal the alcohol you had swiped from the house. “I don’t know if you wanna party with me-“

“Shut up and pass me a beer.” 

You smiled, grabbing a beer from the bag and handing it to JJ. Without warning he grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward him, leaning back on his other elbow as he did. You caught yourself, pressing your hand into the blanket to hold yourself up and realizing you were hovering over him. 

“I, uh-“ you stammered, licking your lips briefly before JJ let go of your wrist and put his hand on the back of your neck, leading you into a kiss. You kissed back, ignoring the feeling of the beer bottle cap scratching your hand as you shifted to be closer to JJ, moving your knee between his legs so you were almost straddling him. 

“Are you sure?” You asked when you pulled away to move your hand from the beer bottle. You frowned when you glanced at it, holding it up so JJ could see the cut. He took your wrist, kissing over the small cut on your palm. “I’m not really good at casual things,” you admitted.

“Is that what this is?”

You shook your head before leaning in to kiss him again. While you held yourself up with the hand that had been cut by the beer bottle your other hand moved to JJ’s stomach, fingers slipping beneath his shirt and dancing along the soft skin of his abdomen, just above his shorts. His grip on the back of your neck tightened ever so slightly as he held your face to his, pulling out of the kiss for the briefest of moments to look at you, “Are you sure?” He repeated your question though it had a different meaning.

“Yeah.” You nodded. It was dead on the beach this time of night and you were far enough down toward the water that no one could really see you from the houses though that didn’t stop this from being the most daring thing you’d ever done.

JJ shifted so that he was laying back on the blanket, pushing the backpack away from his body as you straddled his waist. His hands went to your hips, running over your ass and settling on the backs of your thighs when you leaned all the way forward to kiss him, bodies practically pressed together. You kissed along his jaw and down his neck, sucking a bruise into his skin. JJ’s breathing picked up as your right hand moved between your bodies, fingers unbuttoning and unzipping his shorts before you slipped your hand beneath them, grasping him. JJ bit down on his lip as he moaned, the sound coming up from his chest.

You pulled away from him, cool air rushing between your bodies as you sat back on your heels. He watched you, heart pounding in his chest, as you put your hands on the waistband of his shorts, ready to pull them down, “God, why are you not in a swimsuit.”

“Excuse me for not knowing I was gonna get lucky on the beach.”

“I’m gonna leave you on the beach for saying that,” you teased.

JJ’s hands held you in a vice grip, squeezing your hips, “not a chance.” He replied. He ran his hands up your sides to the hem of your bralette, fingers nudging the fabric up and you caught on to what he wanted, obliging him by lifting the top up over your head and tossing it to the side.

Your original plan of action went to hell though you could be upset when JJ wrapped his arms around your back and sat himself up, knocking you back and laying you down so he could hover over you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he kissed you.

“That was a neat trick.” You managed as he mirrored the hickey you’d left on him on your own neck. He smiled against your skin as his right hand moved across your stomach, fingers brushing against the underside of your breast. His mouth travelled down from your neck, kissing between your breasts before moving to the left, tongue darting out to flick over your nipple. His fingers twisted your other nipple at the same time and you tensed, hips shooting up to try and create some friction with his own. He sucks another bruise into your skin, just below your left breast before moving back up to kiss you.

The new position made it easier to get his shorts and briefs down and you manage to push them down to his thighs after you rid yourself of your own shorts. JJ leans his forehead against your collar, looking down at you with a sly smile. “No underwear?”

“I was in a hurry to get dressed.” You insisted, “now shut up.”

“I’m not the chatty one.”

“I’m not - holy shit!” You cursed as he slipped his hand between your thighs, coating his fingers before rubbing your clit. His middle finger circled the bundle of nerves before slipping down inside of you, just barely offering anything before repeating the cycle. When he kissed you he slipped his tongue in your mouth and you bit down gently, not enough to hurt him but enough to getting him going.

You tried to press yourself up into his hand but he pushed you down, slick fingers digging into your skin as he pressed you against the blanket. You whimpered when he pushed his hips into yours, his dick rubbing over your clit and you grip his hair as he tilts his head down to kiss and nip at your breasts again.

“Please, Jay,” you begged, unashamed and completely oblivious to your surroundings as he lined himself up and thrust in to you. He stilled for a moment once he was completely in, savoring the feeling of you until you tugged his hair. “Move.”

“God, you’re so desperate for me.” He teased, kissing beneath your chin and along your neck.

Finally he moves, thrusting into you. His pace quickens and you wrap your arms around him, digging your fingers into his back. He groans from the almost pain of the feeling, his hips hitting yours harder to give back as much as you’re giving him. You pulled him closer so that you could kiss him again. You’d be lying if you said that you had been on edge with JJ all day. That every touch and smile, the kiss in the lazy river, it all felt like foreplay as he thrust into you now, slipping his hand between your legs to rub your clit as he did, pushing you closer to the edge.

“JJ,” you whimpered, muscles in your stomach clenching as you felt yourself approaching your high.

JJ pressed his face into your neck, biting again at your collar, “I know,” was all he said, repeating it again when the rhythm he’d built up wavered slightly as he felt his own release approaching, “I know.”

One hand fisted the blanket beneath you as your release hit. You came, his name the only thing you could think of, and he came right after, the feeling of you tightening around him enough to pull an orgasm out of him. JJ held himself up on one arm, trembling above you, still connected as his hips still, his eyes on yours.

You sucked in a breath as he kissed the tender skin of your collar, red from his teeth, “have you ever gone skinny dipping?” You asked.

“Not in the Keys.” He replied, letting his upper body fall against you as well, all of him pressing into you.

“When I can move again...want to?”

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife @freckled-and-daydreaming @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @howdyherron @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @tragicmisfits @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @jjsthumbring @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @louisolos @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @finecelle @vitaminekabc @tiredfeels @g4bster @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @poguestyleskye @ssprayberrythings @pensysto @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @lavenderxraindrops @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @hvitost @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @kissessforharryyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @mirjanak @kwjune @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @siwiecola @regev1408 @celestialmaybank @mybnkjj @averagxfangirl @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @99sxuxii @oh-annaa @katiaw2 @aiifandomsunite @marteenuhh08 @x-lulu @kitkat0609 @ceruleanjj @yoxsh06 @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @justkeepdreamingswift @allie-mcginn @jjmaybankswife @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @poguesnobx @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @jolomez @timotaychalabae @babycakes00 @pixelated-pogues @booksandshish @lopineapples @ponyboys-sunsets @prettyyboyspence @obxlife @downbytheouterbanks @pancakefancake @danicarosaline @sspidermanss @k-k0129 @apoguecalledjj @annedub

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libsterslobsters · 4 years ago

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Bring It On Home..

Summary: The battle against Thanos is over, and the Avengers are the winners. Those gone for the past five years have returned home, including Bucky. But what changes have taken place in the reader's life since she lost him, and can things go back to the way they were? Or do they have to find a new normal?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced! Reader

(Reader is able to see bits and pieces of the future, can understand all languages, and process information at an abnormal pace, as well as being a super soldier)

Warnings: mild angst, fluff, maybe a hint of smut (blink and you'll miss it) mentions of the events of Avengers: Endgame, strong language

*************************************************

She knew it would happen before it did. Her damnable knack for seeing shards of the future let her know that Tony Stark would get the stones, and what’s more, sacrifice his life for both friends and people he had never met, but there were so many screams on the battlefield that day, when her agonized cry escaped her as she rammed her knee into the groin and her knife into the jugular of one of Thanos’s goons (the same one who nearly killed her five years ago, actually) no one heard.

She’ll carry that secret to her grave. Goodness knows Pepper doesn’t need the worry of wondering if it somehow could’ve been avoided (it couldn’t have), if she somehow could have saved him (it wasn’t possible). She briefly thinks about telling Steve once the dust settles, but then she catches sight of a familiar flash of silver, and what’s more, the man in black attached to it.

She’s not sure if he’s seen her before she takes off, running the fastest she ever has, but there’s no way he could miss the sound of her footfalls once she’s nearly on top of him, and he manages to catch her when she nearly topples over from stopping so abruptly in front of him. He looks the same as last time she saw him, her Bucky, but she’s sure she looks much different. Her mind rapidly runs through everything she could say to him, everything she should let him know, but what comes out is five simple words:

“You came back to me.”

He doesn’t get the chance to reply before heart-wrenching sobs echo from the woman in the Iron Man suit, who nearly keels over next to her dead husband. She’s not sure who reaches Pepper first, her, Steve, or Rhodey, but as Rhodes pulls her up to lean against him and Steve shields them from prying eyes, she’s the one to remove the helmet from Pepper’s head and dab at the tears.

She doesn’t see him again except for briefly passing in coridors for several days after that. Steve’s patching up holes in what’s left of their forces, explaining that they’ve been gone for five years, and here’s how they were brought back. Rhodey’s putting out publicity fires. Pepper doesn’t have the huge circle of friends she enjoyed in the days before she and Tony ran off together to start a family, and although they don’t know each other well, she stays with the grieving widow and along with Happy and Peter, entertains Morgan.

Since she hates to leave Pepper for more than an hour at a time, remembering her own grief years earlier, Steve has taken to dropping off fresh clothes for her every day and taking what needs to be washed home with him. That’s who she’s expecting when there’s a knock on the door of the room she’s been staying in for the past week and a half.

That is, until the door opens and her heart skips a beat. It’s him.

He offers her a smile, but it’s nervous.

“Hey. Steve said he was gonna stop by and drop these off for you, but I was in the neighborhood, so I thought-” Stopping short, he holds out the brown paper bag she assumes has the sweater she asked for and the workout wear.

There’s so many things she wants to say to him. So many things he needs to know. That she missed him so much she thought cutting out her heart would be less painful. That not a day has gone by when she hasn’t woken up, expecting to see a good morning text from “Barnes” as he’s still listed in her phone. That she hasn’t deleted any of the voicemails he sent her. That she’s kept moving forward because she had to, but it felt like she was hollow, just a shell of herself.

Instead, she ignores all logic and reserve, and goes with her gut instinct; wrapping one arm around his neck, grabbing a handful of hair to bring him down to her level, and kissing him the way she used to, like no time has passed and no changes have occurred. It’s only when a “thunk” from the bag hitting the floor reaches her ears that she realizes what she’s done or has a moment of doubt. But then, he’s pulled her closer, and she’s not the only one going for broke.

She manages to break away long enough to gasp out,

“Sorry. Is this-”

“This is okay. Yeah. This is good.”

That’s all she needs to hear before dragging him into the room with her and kicking the door closed.

___________________________________________________________________________________

This is stupid. It’s the thought at the forefront of Bucky’s mind. They dated for three years, and he even worked up the courage to ask her if she’d marry him before Thanos attacked. There’s absolutely no reason to be nervous over a simple dinner date. It’s stupid. But he is nervous. Sure, for him, it’s been a grand total of two weeks since the battle where he turned to dust, but for her, it’s been a long five years. Who knows what’s happened in that time?

All of those concerns are put on pause as he catches sigh of her stepping through the diner doors. At the time, when he changed into one of Steve’s nicer button downs, blazers, and a pair of slacks (he’s pretty sure all of his clothes are still in Wakanda… or possibly thrown out by now, since it is five years later), he felt stupid, but now… yeah, he’s still underdressed. Of course, that would be true if she turned up wearing a potato sack, because it’s her, and to his mind (which he can’t guarantee is objective, but dammit, he can’t be far off) she’s the most beautiful creature to ever walk the face of this earth.

He’s barely stood up from the booth (no nicer places were available since literally everyone is trying to catch up with long-missing loved ones, and besides, he’s fairly certain they don’t take Wakandan currency in New York) before she catches sight of him, and that smile that could rival the sun peeks out again as she makes her way over. Does he hug her? Does he shake her hand? What’s the protocol when you’re meeting up with the woman who may or may not still be your fiancee for the first time in five years for her, and a few weeks for you? Who you’re sure as hell, absolutely, head over heels in love with, but who knows if she still feels the same way?

He doesn’t get to do either because she pecks his cheek, and before he can recover, slides into her side of the booth.

“You clean up just as nice as I remember.” He needs to say something in response. Words. He knows plenty of them. It’s just the using them that’s the problem.

“You too.” Did part of his brain disappear in the dusting and not come back properly? Is that why he’s completely tongue tied around her?

The situation definitely doesn’t improve when a waitress comes over to take their order and, as they fold up their menus and hand them over, he gets a good look at her left hand. Oh.

“Hey-” He doesn’t realize he’s been just staring until she reaches across the table and lightly grasps his arm. “-you alright there, Buck? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Maybe he has. Maybe he’s hallucinating. Or maybe-

“You kept it on.” She looks confused for a moment, and then a flush rises to her cheeks.

“Of course I did.” Her eyes lower to study the table, and her hand drops away. “Of course.”

“For five years.” Why is he saying this? Can’t he just accept anything at face value?

“Yes, um-” She clears her throat nervously. “-it wasn’t on my finger the entire time. I had a scare around four months in where I thought I’d lost it, and after that, I wore it on a chain around my neck, but yes. I kept it on.”

He wants to tell her how amazing that is, how he’s floored that it meant that much to her, he meant that much to her. But again, she’s the one to speak before he can.

“You can have it back. That is, if you’d rather…” She stumbles over her words, then sighs. “If you’d rather it not mean what it used to mean anymore.” Wait- “I know it’s only been a little while for you, but it’s been five years for me. I’ve gotten older, and I’m rough around the edges in places I didn’t used to be. Plus, I’ve changed a lot, and you might not to be tied down to who I am now-

“Keep it.” Her mouth falls open at the interruption, but she quickly snaps it shut. “That is, if you still want it to mean what it used to mean.”

She frowns slightly.

“I do. You wouldn’t believe how much… it’s only… are you sure?” Of course he’s sure. “If you wanted to take some time to think about it, or if you didn’t want to try at all, I’d understand. No hard feelings.” She laughs sadly. “I mean, who knows? You may not even like me anymore.”

That’s what finally pushes him past embarassment, past any worry about making her uncomfortable. Damn being eloquent. He just needs to say it.

“I don’t need time. I’d already thought about it when I gave the ring to you in the first place.” This time, he’s the one reaching across the table, taking her hand in his. “Doll, I knew we were both gonna change eventually. That’s just what happens as time passes. And my mind’s still made up that I’m gonna love each person you change into. I just wish…” Should he say this? Now or never. “… I wish I’d been there so we could’ve changed together.” She doesn’t look convinced. Alright, time to make things a little ridiculous.

“Are you still the girl who uses the humane mouse traps, has terrible taste in music, and drinks tea because coffee gives her the jitters?”

“Yes and no.” That’s not the answer he was expecting, but at least she’s smiling now. “I still use the no-kill traps, my taste in music was never terrible, excuse you, but coffee doesn’t give me the jitters since the super serum.”

“The what?!”

“Oh, right. You missed that part.”

It’s a long explanation, during which he has to almost completely shut down so he won’t show how much it’s affecting him, hearing how close she came to death that day, but by the end he’s even more certain of his decision.

“Then it’s just as I thought. You may have changed here and there, but at the core, you’re the same girl I fell for in Romania. And I’m still sure I want to marry her.”

Before she can stop it, a tear runs down her cheek. As she wipes it away, she asks,

“Really?”

“Really.” He nods. “But hey, from the sound of it, you’re a bad-ass now. You sure you want to marry an old man?” It works, and she laughs.

“Well, every bad-ass needs a sidekick, and you’ve got the credentials.”

He’s not sure why he asks, because it doesn’t matter, he wouldn’t blame her if there was someone else, but he needs to know just to put it to rest in his own mind.

“What, there weren’t any other applicants?”

“Nope. I held the position open for you.” He’s never been more excited to start a job in his entire life.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“Did you know it was going to happen?” They’re in the back of one of Stark’s (or rather, Pepper’s) SUVs on the way home from Tony’s memorial service. The only major difference from the trip down is that Steve’s gone. He’s gone. Traveled back in time. She doesn’t know for certain, but she’s pretty sure he went back to live his life with Peggy. And now Bucky’s asking her if she had a vision, saw it coming.

“No.” That’s not entirely true. “I saw…” She sighs. “Something confusing, and I still don’t think it’s happened.”

He doesn’t say anything, but she knows he’s waiting for her to explain. Still, she takes a few moments to arrange her thoughts in a way that’ll make sense to someone on the outside. Finally, she thinks she has it figured out.

“I saw you sitting on Steve’s bed, and you were upset. I saw myself sit down next to you to try and comfort you. I didn’t know it would be because of this, but-” she starts to take his hand, but stops herself. What if he’s angry? “-I knew it would be sometime today, because of what we’re wearing.”

It’s quiet, deadly quiet, then-

“When?” It’s one word, but she knows what he means.

“Right after Bruce pushed the button.” Maybe she should’ve mentioned it, but she was hoping she was wrong, that Steve wasn’t going to die going back to return the stones to their proper timelines. Turns out she was indeed wrong. He’s not dead. In fact, he got a life.

“Okay.” She frowns. Surely that can’t be it.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “It’s not like we could’ve stopped him, and I can’t blame him, ‘cause if it were me, that’s what I’d do. But-” He sniffs hard, and that’s when she realizes she’s not the only one trying not to cry. “-I’m gonna miss the punk.”

This time, she gives into her instincts and entwines their fingers, metal against flesh.

“I know you will. I know.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

Even if they’ve lost their leaders, the world doesn’t stop spinning, and work doesn’t stop for the Avengers. Sooner or later, they have to regroup, take up the mantle of protecting Earth again. Bucky is surprised when not just Sam, but Rhodey as well asks him to be part of the team. Not just him, he mentally adds. No, they want her too.

“Is this gonna be an issue? You two working together?” She turns in his direction, an eyebrow raised in response to Rhodey’s question. He thinks he knows the answer.

“No. The plan already was to work together until one or the other of us drops.”

Sam cackles.

“Thought that thing on her finger looked familiar. Man, you couldn’t come up with a diamond? Not even a little one?” He catches her rolling her eyes, and fights back a laugh.

“How dangerous do you want her left hook to be, Sam?”

“Good point.”

It’s easily decided that he’ll be part of the main force, and she’ll be in the reserves. That means she’ll keep her job at an upstate community college, teaching English to adults, and he’ll… be doing a lot of paperwork.

What’s not so easily decided is when and how they’re going to make things official. His suggestion is they wait a year for the dust to settle and then do things the old fashioned way, white dress, church, and tux included. Hers is that they walk down to city hall and sign papers. In the end, it’s Pepper who makes the decision.

“Of course you’re having a real wedding. Don’t be silly. And you’ve already waited five years. Why would you want to wait one more?”

She makes polite protests on both their behalves that courthouse weddings are quick and easy, or if they waited a year, they could save up, sort more things out, but Pepper’s not having it, and in the end, they’ve set a date six months in the future, and the widowed Ms. Potts as elected herself the wedding planner. Bucky’s not at all sure about this (Pepper’s a multi-billionare after all, her tastes are probably a little on the extravagant side, and their idea of a “fancy” date has for the most part consisted of “not wearing sweats or pajamas and going somewhere that’s not the sofa in your appartment or mine” y’know, since they’re broke and have been in hiding), but then she pulls out the,

“Please. I need a project to concentrate on that doesn’t have anything to do with… you know. And, I’m paying.”

So of course, neither of them can say no. And really, if the options are wait a year or wait six months, he’ll take the shorter option any day.

He’s been staying in Steve’s apartment (knowing that he’s the one who killed Stark’s parents, he couldn’t bring himself to stay in Avengers H.Q.) since his best friend payed through the next month, but eventually, he has to figure out something else. He may be working for the good guys now, but the price on Brooklyn apartments has just gone through the roof since most people want their old places back, and it’s more than he makes.

He tries not to let on that he’s starting to get a little worried about things (is there anywhere even remotely nearby available at a price he can afford), but eventually it does come up that he’s apartment searching. She has an immediate, rational response:

“Then just move in with me.”

His poker face really must’ve gone to shit (at least around her), because she laughs and, catching a piece of popcorn on the edge of her tongue, asks,

“Come on, Buck. You’ve signed up for the rest of your life. Do you really think we’ll be sick of each other in five months?”

That’s not it, not by a long shot. It’s just that back in his day, moving in together without a trip to church and the exchange of both vows and rings was a way to guarantee whoever the unlucky girl was would be painted as a scarlet woman. It’s archaic, and logically he knows no one bats and eye now, but he still has to ask,

“You sure, Doll?”

She nods.

“Yeah, I have a couch that pulls out into a mattress. Or, if you promise to be a gentleman and keep your hands to yourself, you can have the empty side of my bed.” It’s a joke, and he knows it.

“Sorry. Can’t promise that.” His own smirk matches hers.

“Well, then, I guess I’ll just be charitable and offer it to you anyway.”

#marvel #avengers #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x oc #bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #the winter soldier #captain america #fluff #angst #series #standalone

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spiderman-homecomeme · 4 years ago

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day seven - pull-out p.2

ONLY ONE BED

A/N: Well, here we are friends. It’s time to say goodbye to spideychelle week. But really, when you think about it, isn’t the real spideychelle week the friends we made a long the way?

Okay, but for real, this has been so fun!! Both writing and seeing all the creations made by our talented fandom! Thank you again @spideychelleweek for putting this together <3 Till next year

There’s stuff in this fic that’s pretty new for me, as I’ve never written explicit smut before, and it’s something I’ve been thinking about trying for a while. So, I figured Spideychelle Week would be the best time!

Without further procrastination on my part: enjoy some 6.3k of cow facts that will impress your friends, Peter being a mess, MJ being a mess, everyone’s a mess, smut, and ONLY. ONE. BED.

Read here on AO3

“Hey, uh, MJ.”

Peter’s voice is hushed as he gently nudges her.

She mumbles and stirs, blinking sleepily at him as she returns to a vague form of something akin to consciousness.

“MJ.” His hand brushes her arm once more, leaving a certain warmth that she can’t quite place. “We’re here.”

Sure enough, there’s a faint glow coming from the porch light ahead, though it’s entirely too bright for one o’clock in the morning. MJ sits up in her seat, yawning as she stretches her arms out in front of her. Her eyelids droop for another moment as she goes to unbuckle her seat belt, and she can just barely hear the opening of the driver’s side door as Peter climbs out of the old Volvo.

“You don’t need me to carry you in do you?” Peter’s gently teasing voice cuts through her sleep-raddled mind.

Apparently he’s done being a weirdo.

The thought of being held against her best friend’s chest flashes through her mind, fleeting, but it’s there alright. She shakes it away almost as quickly as it appears. She cracks an eye open, quirking an unimpressed brow at him as he leans against the door frame with a stupid little smirk on his face.

“Fuck off,” she groans.

Something in the way he shakes his head with a snort of a nervous-sounding laugh causes her stomach to flip, filling with butterflies.

Again, she simply brushes it off.

But then, watching him pop open the trunk, his shirt riding up a little as he lifts the lid, she wonders if he’s thinking about the way their hands touched in the car as much as she is. It was a soft touch, warm, and in a way, inexplicably familiar. Though, as much as it made her heart seize, Michelle’s not sure why she didn’t just pull her hand away.

Then again, Peter didn’t pull away either.

It’s dangerous territory, this kind of thinking. “Do you think there’ll be any cows on the beach?” She asks through a yawn, a teasing lilt to her tone.

Peter barely glances back at her, scoffing. “Shut up.”

A smirk pulls at her lips.

They grab their things from the car, MJ feeling as though she’s moving through quicksand as she gathers her bearings, trying to get a feel for her “land legs” after sitting for so long. The walk to the front porch feels like a half-marathon, and it feels even longer as Peter struggles to remember the door code to get in.

Finally, after a nearly eight hour drive after class, they step inside the small beach cottage.

The house is silent and dark, the only light coming from a lamp in the kitchenette. Ned and Betty must have gone to sleep hours ago, there being practically no sign of life in the house except for the few dishes in the sink. There’s a note on the counter, from Betty giving them instructions for the wifi, the tv, and of course, how to work the shower.

MJ can feel herself once again falling closer and closer into the welcome embrace of sleep. She doesn’t waste any more time, nearly pushing past Peter as she heads for the open door to their bedroom. She can hear him laugh behind her, and she bites back her own smile when he calls out a soft, good-humored, “hey!”

But as they both step into the room, they’re met with a rather strange surprise.

When Betty had told them about this house, she had sworn up and down that there was room for four people to sleep. Two bedrooms, three beds. One for her and Ned, two for Peter and MJ. It was simple.

Here, however, in this dark, moonlit room at one in the morning, there’s only one, full-sized bed.

One bed, and a single, dark leather loveseat.

The silence that falls between them almost crushes their shoulders under its weight. MJ can practically hear the collective overthinking they’re about to do.

“You can take the bed—” They both say simultaneously.

Peter immediately cuts in. “Uh, you—you should take it,” he insists, his lips stretching into a sheepish grin as he scratches the back of his neck.

“No, it’s fine,” MJ replies, setting her backpack down next onto the leather sofa, flinching at the way the fabric squeaks under the weight of her things. “I can take the couch. You take the bed.”

“No, no,” Peter repeats back to her. “Seriously, I’m cool with it. Plus,” He continues, putting his own bag down next to hers and ignoring how the squeaky leather groans again. “Being Spider-Man, I’ve gotten pretty used to sleeping literally anywhere. Just one of my many talents,” he cracks a joke, his almost timid grin wreaking havoc on her insides. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve woken up on the side of a building.”

She quirks a doubting brow in his direction, though the corner of her lips twitch upward.

“For real,” Peter pushes. “I’m cool with it. The super-speedy healing will help with the lumpy couch.”

Her lips purse as she lets out a quiet hum. She’s quiet for a moment, her brows pinching together. “It does make sense,” she finally nods.

Peter smiles.

“I mean, you are the short one,” she teases.

“Hey!” He fights to get rid of his smile as he shoves her playfully. “Only by, like, two-inches.”

Their shared laughter dies for a moment, and they’re left alone in the quiet, dim room.

MJ wants to roll her eyes, even though she’s beginning to feel that same, creeping awkwardness from earlier. “Why—” She clears her throat, telling herself that it’s only so she can get the tired scratchiness out of her voice. “Why don’t we just both take it? We’re adults. And friends. We can share. Besides,” she pauses, her eyes drifting to the bed in question, a strange yet not entirely unwelcome heat rising to her cheeks. “It’s not a queen, but we could both fit.”

“No,” Peter spits out, perhaps a little too quickly. A faint blush falls across his face, and he coughs again, rocking back on his heels. He huffs out a breathy laugh. “No… You—You really don’t wanna share a bed… with… with me. I—” He chuckles. “I’m a huge—HUGE—blanket hog. And, like… I always try to cuddle whoever’s in bed with me—not that… I’m ever in bed with a lot of people… or I mean—random people. Just—”

Throughout his rambling, Michelle starts to really feel that now annoying, almost tingling warmth even more, the same one she’s been feeling since this damn trip started. She shifts on her feet, trying not to think about what it might feel like to have Peter’s body pressed up against her, snuggling up to get warm, in that very bed.

It alarms her just how quickly she thinks that, yes, she would really like that. Very much.

“—I guess I get cold at night? I don’t know, every trip for decathlon in high school, Ned would always complain if he had to share a bed with me at one of the hotels.”

His quiet laughter fills the room around them, and MJ can’t help but notice the correlation between that sound and the speed at which those stupid stomach-butterflies’ wings flap.

“—I honestly don’t know where I get it? I mean, I slept with a teddy bear until I was thirt—”

“—Okay, fine!” MJ sets him free from his rambling, a tired laugh hiding under her words. “You take the couch. I’ll take the bed.”

Peter nods, lips pressing together into a thin, yet slightly triumphant smile as he goes to move the bags off of the loveseat.

After a beat, he speaks again, chuckling quietly. “We made that a lot harder than it needed to be.”

MJ can’t help but let out a snort. “Yeah, probably.”

“Well, uh—” He coughs to hide the jittery waver of his voice. “I guess I’ll get the couch ready.”

“Sounds—sounds good,” Michelle exhales a sharp breath through her nose, a twitch of a grin appearing on her lips. She lamely throws a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll—I’ll just go get ready for bed. In the bathroom. Yeah,” she adds, toying with the loose threads at the hem of her t-shirt.

He looks up from his bag, brows raised, eyes dopey and sleepy. “Oh, cool. Okay. I’ll—” He clears his throat again. “I’ll use it after you.”

“Cool,” she mutters without another glance, looking down at her feet as she grabs her toiletry bag and a new t-shirt and sleep shorts, before practically sprinting out of the room and into the hall. She doesn’t stop until she gets to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it. Relief is the one thing she can feel in that instance, yet her breath is still stuck in her throat. Closing her eyes, she runs her hands over her weary, yet tingling face.

God, what was wrong with her?

The icy floor of the bathroom tile does nothing to cool the warmth radiating from her head to her toes. With another quick, sharp exhale she moves to the sink, splashing her face with cold water. She looks up after a beat, staring—borderline, glaring—at herself in the mirror.

Get it together, MJ, she thinks to herself, mouth setting in determination.

One weird road trip, one single hand touch in the car, one glimpse of abs, one bed, and one over active imagination; the key ingredients to begin the process of breaking Michelle Jones.

But she won’t let that happen. No, she absolutely will not. Sure, Peter’s probably one of the best people she’s ever known, and sure, he’s funny—sometimes, mostly on accident—and sure, he’s got the body of an olympic gymnast, and she can’t get the image out of her mind that olympian bod wrapped around her in bed, but none of that means anything. Anything at all.

None of it’s relevant to how she feels right now. And none of that changes anything about how this night—this trip—is going to go.

Yes, maybe she’s had this stupid crush on her stupid best friend for some stupid amount of time.

But again.

It’s not relevant here.

She’s just had a weird day. That’s it. She’s tired. She needs to sleep.

Forcing any and all thoughts concerning the boy in the next room, she starts her nightly routine; brushing her teeth, washing and moisturizing her face, the basics, not rushing anything. She takes her time changing her clothes, perhaps a little longer than normal. But again, she tells herself it’s only because she’s tired—not at all that she’s avoiding going back to the room where Peter is. When she runs out of things to do to procrastinate going back, she brings herself to the mirror again, staring at herself with almost disappointment.

But then, she steels herself. She didn’t need to be freaking out right now. Peter’s just a person. He’s just her best friend. They’ve had plenty of sleepovers before, and this is no different. And besides, they’re sleeping in two separate places, so really, all of this inner turmoil is pointless. Nothing’s going to happen.

And really, why should she be freaking out about the guy who read her cow facts for a solid thirty minutes of their trip?

With a solid, resolute nod, lips pressed tightly together, she exits the bathroom and goes back down the hall, opening their bedroom door without a second thought.

Big mistake.

Big BIG mistake.

She really should have waited maybe five more seconds, because when the door swings open, Peter’s standing there in just his boxers, his head caught in his t-shirt as he pulls it on, chest and abs just out and ready to go.

Big mistake—that absolutely doesn’t mean anything.

It suddenly becomes very confusing to MJ why the Brant’s would have the thermostat set at eighty degrees.

Michelle decides that there’s a very interesting spot on the wall just above his head.

Peter pulls the shirt the rest of the way on, his eyes widening when he sees his friend just standing there. “Oh, uh, hey.” A not-cute-at-all unforgiving blush rises to his cheeks, spreading to the very tips of his ears.

They both huff out an awkward laugh.

“Uh—” Michelle finally meets his gaze, finding it damn near impossible to go back to her spot on the wall now. “Bathroom’s—bathroom’s open.”

The chuckle that comes out of him is breathy. “Cool. I’ll just—go use it, then.”

“Yeah.”

She waits until the door closes behind him to smack herself on the forehead. Groaning, she flops herself on the bed, covering her face again.

These feelings have always been here, she knows that, she’s not dumb; but they’ve never been this intense and the way he’s been acting all day and in the past fifteen minutes hasn’t been much help at all. She wonders if he’s been so strange because he’s feeling those things, too. She’s seen that guy hopelessly in love, and it’s always looked kind of like what he’s doing tonight, but…

This feels like a whole new level of loser.

Truly, she has no idea how she’s going to get through the night.

But maybe—

No.

No. She’s not going to think about this any more. She’s going to go to bed before he gets back. That way, she doesn’t have to talk to him or see him. She’ll sleep, and then they can just hang out tomorrow. With Ned and Betty. Not alone.

As long as their not alone, she’ll be fine.

She gets up to shut the overhead light off before turning the bedside lamp on, passing a brief glance to the loveseat turned bed across from her. Shaking her head, she pulls back the blankets and settles into her own bed.

When Peter returns, the room is dim, Michelle scrolling mindlessly on her phone. She wonders if she appears a little too casual for comfort, but she shakes that thought away as the door clicks shut behind him.

Peter’s silent as he settles into the couch, the leather groaning and squealing loudly under his movement. The noise cuts through the air, causing them both to freeze for a moment. He grins sheepishly as he nestles further under his blanket, his face becoming only partly visible.

Michelle doesn’t say anything as she turns to the bedside lamp and switches it off.

The room becomes blanketed in dark, and it takes a moment for their eyes to adjust. The air feels heavy; soul-crushing, even. It’s deathly quiet, and Michelle’s almost a hundred percent positive that Peter can hear her breathing and the way her heart’s beating like an out-of-time snare drum.

She closes her eyes, willing her mind and body to return to that feeling in the car, before she started having this weird, sudden existential crisis. And to some degree, it starts to work. She counts, starting at one, hoping that having her mind focus on something other than the current situation might help. Her mind starts to drift, her counting switching to random, sleep-induced thoughts, and her body starts to feel heavy, sinking further into the fluffy mattress—

EER-ER-EEEP

But she’s startled, yanked back to reality by the loud squeaking of Peter tossing and turning on the loveseat.

Once again, the deafening silence returns, but Michelle doesn’t say anything, annoyed, but still electing to just ignore it. All he’s doing is getting comfortable. No reason to attack him for that.

It’s quiet again, and for the second time, she closes her eyes, taking in a deep breath. Minutes go by, and she’s finding it harder and harder to get that feeling back. The counting from one doesn’t work this time, her brain immediately crossing to the Peter lane that’s always there. The thoughts and feelings from earlier in the day and in the bathroom flood right back—especially seeing him mid-putting-a-shirt-on—and it suddenly becomes too hot to be under so many blankets.

Trying not to let even the tiniest bit of frustration show, she flips onto her back, staring up at the ceiling, subtly scooting a little closer to the wall to be as far away from her problem as possible. Drawing in a long, deep breath, she closes her eyes again.

It’s quiet again, the silence that fills the room bringing the mood back to what might be serene if she weren’t so stressed out. She focuses on her breathing, on slowing her heart beat to a semi-normal rate, pushing any and all thoughts about Peter Parker out of her head—

EP-EEEEER-EP

EEER-EEP

Peter groans from his place on the couch as he turns on his side, cutting the silence of the room with his restlessness.

There’s a moment where she thinks that he’s finished, that he’s finally settled.

ER-EP

And instantly, the moment is gone.

“Peter,” she almost hisses.

“Sorry!” Peter whispers back. “I can’t—ugh… get comfortable. It’s like there’s a giant metal rod just… Stuck right in my back.”

She doesn’t say anything in return, sighing as she turns over on her side, facing away from him. If anything, as annoyed at his noisy fidgeting as she is, she can see the silver lining—being angry at him is a nice distraction from whatever the hell the other feeling is—illness, pining, lust, she doesn’t know. At least now she can just focus on how much of a pain in the ass he’s being.

She does feel sorry for him, of course. The couch hadn’t looked all that comfortable when they walked in, and a loveseat isn’t a good option for anyone, no matter how tall or super-powered they are. It would have been much easier for them both if he had agreed to just share with her. It’s not like it’s that big of a deal.

(It is.)

It’s not like all she’d be able to think about would be his hand next to hers, the warmth of his body lulling her into a homey comfort.

Nothing like that at all.

Feelings for her best friend aside, she’d be more than able to share a full-sized bed—that’s really meant for only one person—with him. But then, she thinks about how much—how quickly, he’d rejected the idea, and then she deflates. He’d been so defensive, so insistent. So—

EEEEEEEE-EEEP

Michelle can hear him suck in a breath, bracing himself.

“Oh, my GOD.” She whisper-shouts into the pitch black room, grabbing her pillow and pushing her face into it.

“I’m sorry!” Peter matches her tone, sitting up before throwing himself back against the cushions.

No. She will not listen to this all night. She’s had enough.

If’s she going to get any sleep at all—

Peter sits up again, listening as MJ starts rustling around on the bed. “What—What are you doing?” He asks carefully.

“Scooting over.” She snaps.

“What? Why?”

“Just get in the bed, Parker.”

“Wha—what?” Even in the dark of the room, Michelle can practically see the blush fall over his entire face.

She scoots closer to the wall, huffing indignantly. “Because I don’t wanna have to listen to that all night. I’d like to sleep at some point, if that’s okay with you.”

It takes a moment for Peter to respond, and at first, Michelle thinks—worries—that she’s taken a step too, far.

But then, the couch squeaks again as Peter stands hesitantly.

“...Are you—Are you sure?” He asks, his voice coming closer, her heart leaping into her throat.

Despite the rush of blood roaring in her ears, she holds her ground. “God, yes! Just get over here already,” she whispers again, opening the blanket for him to get in.

She can hear the hesitation in his silence, but she’s surprised when the bed dips beside her. His hand brushes her arm as he crawls under the blanket and settles into the mattress. When he settles in, he keeps a respectable distance, clinging as close to the side as possible. It’s certainly a tight fit, even with both of them as close to their respective ends of the bed as they can possibly get, and although he’s almost falling off the edge, she can still feel the his warmth.

And then, they both lie there for what seems like hours, each holding their breath, neither one daring to speak, neither one truly settled.

Michelle tries moving, turning away from him, though it doesn’t help much. He’s still too close; she can still feel him right next to her.

It’s not fair, she thinks. It’s really not.

Though she’s not all that surprised; she shouldn’t be. This is exactly what the both of them had been avoiding.

Michelle shifts again before sighing in defeat.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asks as he turns on his side, his quiet, soft, sleepy voice so incredibly close. She shivers.

“Can’t sleep,” she says, nestling further into her pillow.

On instinct, she turns back around to face him.

Perhaps a mistake.

His face is mere inches from hers, her breath catching in her throat. If the lights were on, she’s sure she could count every freckle on his nose. He quickly pulls back to give her another centimeter of space. “Sorry,” he whispers, the sheepish grin on his face audible.

“It’s fine,” She breathes out, albeit a bit shakily, as she rolls over onto her back again.

Her hand falls to the middle of the bed, but she yanks it back when her pinky brushes his. “Sorry,” she says, huffing out a laugh at herself.

Peter rolls onto his stomach, his face turning to her as he rests his head on his pillow. “You’re good,” he mumbles groggily, his eyelids drooping with every passing second. “This is so much comfier.”

She smiles, a warm fluttering in her stomach as she looks over at him. His breathing deepens slowly, and soon, she can tell that he’s fast asleep.

He could fall asleep anywhere, he said.

Anywhere except for a loveseat.

Sleep doesn’t seem to want to come as easily to Michelle. She still tosses and turns, feeling herself drifting in and out of the first stage, never fully asleep and never fully awake, staying in that torturous limbo in between for what feels like a whole-ass eternity.

When a solid-ish form of rest finally comes, it’s gone before she has a chance to realize. She opens her eyes again, seeing the hint of the beginning of morning light through the single window in their room. Craning her neck up from her pillow she looks over Peter’s sleeping form and at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

4:48 AM.

She falls back against her pillow with a frustrated huff.

“You okay?”

If she weren’t so sleep deprived, Peter’s soft voice so suddenly awake and beside her would have made her jump. Instead, she passes him a fleeting glance before rubbing her one of her eyes with a knuckle.

“Can’t sleep,” she says again, just as she had earlier.

Peter rolls on his side to face her fully, his arm tucked under his pillow, his lips pressed into a thoughtful line. “Do you want more cow facts?”

Her laugh cracks, voice worn from a lack of sleep. “No. No. I’m good. Thanks, though.”

“I’m gonna get you more cow facts.”

“Peter—”

But he’s already reaching for his phone on the table, turning back to face her after typing into his google search. His face glows blue from the light, and she can’t help the way her lips tug upward at his look of fierce concentration.

“Okay, you can pick—”

She stares up at the ceiling.

“—27 Amazing Cow Facts That Will Impress Your Friends, or—get ready for this—”

She will not look at him.

“Are you ready?” He doesn’t wait. “10 ‘Udderly’ Fascinating Facts About Cows.”

“Peter—” She warns, her grin hiding nothing, as she turns on her side to face him.

“Pick!” He insists, his quiet voice full of mischief and excitement. “You gotta.”

Her eyes narrow. “Neither.”

“Okay, we’re going punny,” He decides for her. “Did you know that cows cause more deaths than sharks per year? Crazy right? Where’s Cow Week then, huh?” He scrolls further upon earning no response besides a deadpan stare. “You ever wondered why Cows moo? Well, these moos are the pick-up lines of the cattle world. Bulls and cows let each other know that they are ready to, in the words of a bovine Marvin Gaye, get it on.”

“I hate you.”

“Cows can see three-hundred-sixty degrees. Kinda like chameleons—HEY!”

Before he can even finish the fun fact, her hand shoots out to yank his phone out of his hands. His reflexes are much fast, and he holds it away over the edge of the bed.

“No more cow facts!” MJ hisses as she reaches over him, her arm laying across his chest, in an attempt to snatch his phone and throw it across the room. “No more!”

Peter lets out a breathy laugh, and it’s then, when he just drops his phone, that she realizes how close their faces are; his nose just barely brushing hers, his breath fanning her face. They stay like that a moment, her hand unconsciously smoothing over the fabric of his t-shirt, unable to tear her gaze from his.

Almost instantly she pulls back, muttering out a sorry.

But she doesn’t fully move away, and neither does he.

There’s a moment, one where it all just suddenly clicks—where it all falls neatly into place, like that last, perfect piece in Tetris—and it’s when she finally lets herself look right at him; when she sees that tiny, shy smirk on his face; when she sees that unspoken tint to his eyes as he looks at her.

“Do you, uh—” He swallows. “Wanna hear another one?”

There’s nothing she can do to stop herself from smiling a soft smile.

“No.”

Against any of her better judgement, she leans in.

The first brush of her lips against his is barely there. It’s unbelievably soft, almost as if she’s dreaming. Peter startles at the touch, and she pulls back. He stares at her, mouth parted as he looks at her, speechless. A nervous laugh bubbles up out of him as he tentatively brings a hand to brush her wild curls behind her ear, staying there.

“You kissed me?” He asks dumbly.

She nods, mentally reminding herself to breath.

And that’s all it takes.

A split-second later, he’s crashing his lips against hers, sighing in relief at the contact, his hand moving to cup her jaw. And it’s a feeling that’s everything to her. For something that’s been so hyped up in her mind for so long, she feels delighted shock in finding that the feel of his mouth moving with hers far exceeds any of her previous expectations.

There’s a faint tremble to her hand as she cards it through his stupidly soft hair, gathering the strands, giving an unconscious, yet gentle tug. Peter groans, the sound sending a tidal wave of electricity through her.

And truly, she thinks she could live in this moment for forever, cheesy as it sounds.

His hand moves to her neck, bringing her even closer to him as tilts his head, deepening the kiss. With his free hand, he grips at her waist—her old t-shirt bunching as he pulls himself up to lean over her—before moving down to smooth circles into her exposed hip.

A harsh, short breath escapes her as she grips onto his black shirt, her other hand slipping underneath it to smooth across his stomach.

“I’ve thought about this for a long time,” Peter murmurs against her lips when he pulls back. “Like—a long time.” His laugh is breathy.

Hers is, too. Almost moreso. “Yeah,” she grins. “Me, too.”

The way his smile stretches, reaching all the way up to his eyes just might kill her, she thinks for a split-second, and she comes to her own rescue by pulling his face back down to hers.

She can feel his smile widen through the kiss as he rolls them over, her legs coming naturally to wrap around his waist as he lays on top of her. He squeezes her hip playfully, his hand ghosting across the waistband of her shorts. At her sharp intake of breath, he retracts his hand quickly, as if he’s been burned, mumbling out a “Sorry” against her cheek as he moves to press kisses along the column of her throat.

Michelle feels herself laugh breathily, still unable to bite back her smile. “It’s… It’s fine.” She takes his hand back to it’s place on her stomach, encouraging him to continue, her body screaming in celebration.

But he pulls away, looking at her inquisitively, the hand she’d moved coming back to rest on her arm. “We don’t have to do anything—”

“—I know we don’t,” she cuts him off, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she grins up at him. “But I want to.”

Somehow, someway, his grin seems to get even bigger, and he tries twisting his mouth in an effort to hide it. “Me, too.”

Without another word, she pulls him back down, kissing him soundly, his hand still resting against the flat of her stomach. Again, he deepens the kiss, a hand reaching to cradle the back of her head as his lips mould perfectly against hers. His tongue shyly brushes against her lips, and she readily parts them.

Her breathing grows ragged once more, and unconsciously, she rolls her hips upward, moaning softly into his mouth at the feeling of his hardness briefly pressing against her. He holds himself up with his free hand, muscles tensing as he bites back a groan. Her smile against his lips grows, and she does it again, earning the same reaction.

He huffs out a nervous chuckle, his kissing growing gentler as his other hand comes once again to the waistband of her soft sleep shorts. Slowly, almost too slowly, his hand dips under her shorts, and he freezes again.

Michelle’s ready to pull away and ask if he’s alright before he starts to just barely touch her.

Her hips jerk slightly, and she laughs quietly when he pulls away from her, looking down at her with curious concern before cupping her through her cotton boyshorts. One of his fingers traces a line down the middle of the soft fabric; it’s a faint touch, almost ghostly, but it’s more than enough to make her face burn hot. Almost experimentally, he presses down harder, his strokes smooth as he starts to rub slowly, the corner of his lip quirking upward at the tiny gasp that comes out of her.

He matches the pace with their breathing, his movements slow and deliberate. Pulling her in for another quick, yet sound kiss, he removes his hand. Instinctively, she raises her hips, her own shaking hands moving to remove her sleep shorts. She pushes them off, though she struggles getting them past her thigh, Peter swooping in to move them down the rest of the way.

“Teamwork,” he jokes lamely.

“Great—ah,” She responds, her voice catching when he returns his hand it’s earlier ministrations. “Great job.”

“Thanks,” he says with a small smirk.

This time, his strokes are faster, and he adds just the tiniest bit of pressure. Michelle’s breathing gets heavier, less steady, and all she can do is close her eyes and focus on just how fucking good it feels.

And also, how god damn frustrating it is that he’s still not actually touching her yet.

She can feel Peter’s smug smile against her neck when she lets out the quietest whine and she almost speaks up, ready to tell him off—joking of course—until she feels his hand finally dip past the navy blue lace trim.

Fuck.

His fingers hover above her silky skin before coming down slowly. They both let out shaky breaths as he touches her—finally touches her. His movement is still tentative as he goes to tease her entrance, collecting her wetness and swirling it over her clit, the slight tremor in his hand giving his nerves away. Unconsciously, her hand comes to rest on his, guiding him softly into a gentle rhythm. He murmurs something incoherent before capturing her lips into a tender kiss.

He repeats his movements, dipping his finger further into her each time.

“Oh—” A soft moan escapes her when he inserts a second finger, an uncontrollable grin pulling at his lips at the sound.

His fingers pump and in out of her, curling, speeding up when he notices how her breathing matches, his eyes trailing down to her lips. Michelle can hear her heart thundering in her ears, her breathing growing ragged as he picks up his pace.

But before she can feel herself getting closer to that point, Peter removes his fingers, sitting back on his heels as he rests between her knees. The whine that comes out of her at the loss of contact would almost be embarrassing if she wasn’t so annoyed. She glares up at him, though her gaze softens when he glances down briefly, then back up again, his eyes questioning and earnest.

“Can—” He clears his throat. “Can I—?”

It takes her a moment to register what he’s asking, but then it hits her.

Oh, fuck.

“Yes!” She answers a little too quickly, disguising her excitement under a cough. “I mean—” she replies slowly, lowering her voice. “Yes.”

He grins easily at her, the expression making her heart seize.

His smile fades as he leans down, his fingers tracing the lace trim of her boyshorts, pulling them down slowly, leaving them to hang off of her left leg. Before she can make any comment—perhaps one about how he half-asses everything, though perhaps, she thinks, it’s not the time for that—he dips his head down quickly, his lips meeting hers.

Michelle shudders, and her breathing hitches as he flattens his tongue before licking a long stripe up the length of her center, the fingers of his left hand digging into her thighs. Instinctively, her hands fly to his hair, wrapping themselves in the soft curls, smoothing them down as he sucks on her clit, tracing smooth circles with his tongue. He moves his free hand back up to her hips, curling two of his fingers into her once again.

After a beat, she lays back, allowing herself to become lost in the feeling, letting Peter coax soft moans from her lips, unable to stop her body from tensing, her insides twisting in white hot pleasure. He quickens his pace, and she has to cover her mouth to stifle her moans. He glances up at her, a sight that’s almost too dizzying when she dares a quick glance in return. She feels that same heat pooling in her stomach again, a wavy smile tugging at her lips as she feels herself getting closer and closer.

Her thighs twitch, tensing around Peter’s head, and for a moment, she worries that her hair pulling is a little rough—which doesn’t seem to be a problem, given the moans that Peter gives when she tugs and pulls, and frankly, it’s hard to focus on anything else with how she’s teetering back and forth on the edge. With another swipe of his tongue, Michelle gasps, bucking her hips upward, her fist in his hair holding him in just that right spot.

The coil tightens, the heat burning, and with added pressure to her clit, she feels herself flutter and spasm around his fingers as she releases, back arching as he whimpers under her breath. Peter pulls back, his breathing as ragged as hers, wiping his mouth before crawling up to meet her.

She doesn’t wait for him to ask before pulling him down, capturing his lips into a heated kiss, sighing as she tastes herself on him.

For a moment, there’s nothing else said between them as Peter pulls away, laying on his side next to her, the only sound in the room being their labored breaths.

“Go team,” he jokes.

With a playful eye roll, still breathless, MJ goes to pull the blanket back over them after the AC kicks in again, sending a shiver through her. “Go team,” she says back.

As soon as she’s back against the pillow, he moves in again, his hands moving to cup her face as he plants a soft kiss on her lips that makes her heart flutter. Her hand sneaks under the blanket as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss once more. The surprised grunt the comes out of Peter as she dips her hand under the waistband of his boxers, grabbing his dick, causes a faint, tired laugh to bubble up out of her.

He kisses her back eagerly, laying them back against the pillows as he brings a hand to rest on her naked hip.

It’s such a happy moment, Michelle thinks. Her heart feels as if it’s soaring in her chest, her cheeks warm and glowing. She likes this loser. So much. And she’s unbelievably glad that he feels the same.

Peter groans, feeling her soft hand tighten around him. His strangled moan is cut off. “Oh, God—”

And, perhaps in what they’ll remember as the ultimate, literal cockblock of all time from a Certified Moment Killer, Ned Leeds, their dear, dear friend, barges into the room.

“—Guys! Betty and I are gonna go watch the sunrise! Wanna—?”

He freezes, seeing his two best friends huddled together.

“—What’s going on guys? Why are you… in the same bed…?”

It’s in that moment that Michelle’s exceedingly glad she put the blanket back on so that they’re friend can remain blissfully unaware.

It’s also in that moment that she promptly takes her hand off of Peter’s dick.

Peter and MJ exchange glances

“...There was only one bed. And the couch sucked.”

Ned stares at them, his brows pinched together. He points a thumb at the loveseat in question, his expression seeming to state the obvious.

“You know that’s a pull-out couch right?”

#spideychelle #spideychelleweek2k20 #petermj #peter parker #michelle jones #cw: smut #spiceeeey

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hitchell-mope · 5 years ago

Text

(Third film. After “goodbye”. 23 years ago. The afternoon after the isle was set up. Olympus. Zeus is milling about the throne room excessively drinking in celebration. The marble floor cracks. From them vines fly out and form a Venus fly trap. The mouth opens and out steps a figure in a dark verdant hooded cloak. They send vines in Zeus’s direction which wrap around neck)

Zeus: WHO ARE YOU!!!!

Persephone (removing the cloak): who the fuck do you think it is your “majesty”

Zeus: eurghooh uh. Lady Persephone. To what do I owe the pleasure

Persephone: oh stuff it you old sot. You know what you did!!!!

Zeus: I assure you. I have no idea whatsoever as to what you mean

Persephone: my husband and my two week son where missing when I woke up this morning.

Zeus (feigning concern): really? That’s horrible

Persephone: he did it didn’t he? Adam. He set that, that horrible god awful prison up

Zeus (dropping all pretences): I’m happy to say he did. Now all of those, ahem, people, for want of a better word, are where they belong and can no longer harm us. Oh don’t look at me like that my girl. This is a good thing. Now you’re no longer bound by that pissy little contract he forced you into. You can rejoin your mother here on Olympus and all is as it was a should be before my idiot little destroyed your life

Persephone: if he destroyed my life I wouldn’t be here defending him you stupid slut. Nobody gets it. Nobody has ever seemed to have gotten it. I went through that fissure. I approached the skull throne. I threw myself at him. Being up here was a fucking snooze fest of banality. So I took the first out I could find. And I could not have been happier of what my life has become. The only reason the contract exists is because my mother threatened humanity’s livelihood should I stay there. If it were up to me I would’ve never have come back. I had to sign that to save the mortals

Zeus: how can you possibly be happy in the worlds basement

Persephone: hades is a good husband and provider. He respects my boundaries. He’s never strayed without my consent. And unlike you. He’s never purposefully killed anyone.

Zeus: and what of what he did to my son?

Persephone: ok. I shan’t defend him for that. Because he doesn’t defend himself for it either. He knows he did something disreputable. But he’s more then made up for it. Among other things he paid for and officiated the boys wedding

Zeus: where the Helios was I in all this?

Persephone: you were wine drunk, literally swanning about and harassing anyone and all naiads that stayed still long enough for you to approach them

Zeus (fondly): ah yes, good times, good times. Wait. Where are you going

Persephone: I’m going back home. Pain and Panic are good babysitters. But when Persey cries she tends to burn their limbs

Zeus: who cares. They’re the help

Persephone: they’re family.

(She leaves the way she arrived. On the isle. It’s dark, cold and barren. Hades (John Barrowman) is unconscious. There’s a large green and yellow bruise on his left temple. He’s woken up by the sound of crying)

Hades: hey kiddo. It’s alright. We’ll be ok. I tbini. We just have to get to shelter

(A very large very angry dragon jumps out of the fog. End of flashback. Underworld. Present day. Persephone is at her desk on her laptop)

Persey: see ya ma! I’m going out

Persephone: goodbye dear. Wait. Where are you going?

Persey: Auradon. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard? Chad Charming’s gone postal, stole Verna’s wand. Ben’s missing and Lonnie just sent out the batsignal.

Persephone: oh my goodness. Wow. Do you need me to help?

Persey: just look after our home.

(They disappear a wisp of steel grey fire. Outskirts of Auradon. Elsa’s unconscious on the ground. The girls have found her)

Lonnie: oh my god

Jane: your majesty

Dizzy: we’re off to a great start

Jane: your majesty wake up. Please wake up

Dizzy: the bazooka use the bazooka

Jane: right yes of course

(She squirts ends with the bazooka which instantly wakes her up)

Elsa: ouch. Use that sparingly dear. We may need it more than you think. Could somebody help me up please. Thank you Lonnie

Lonnie: what happened?

Elsa: I teleported here and then I hit something

Jane: it’s a barrier. She put up a barrier around Auradon

Dizzy: ohhhh she’s good. I mean she’s an evil psychopathic bitch. But she’s clever

Lonnie: how do we get inside?

Elsa: Jane?

(Jane makes confused questioning noises)

Elsa: if you would be so kind as to assist me in getting past the barrier?

Jane: ohhhh. Yeah sure let’s do it

(The ice queen and light fairy use magic to create a hole in the barrier. As they do so a flaming comet zooms down and crash a few feet away from them)

Elsa: what the hell

Barrowman!Hades: Name's Hades, Lord of the dead. Hi, how ya doin'?

Jane: fuck

(Elsewhere in Auradon on the school grounds Mal and the others have just touched ground. Mal’s a human again doubled over in pain)

Mal (groaning painfully): urgh. FuckDAMMIT!!!! Jesus I’m not made for this

Hadie (worriedly): are you alright

Mal: I will be. A minivan I am not.

Hadie: was this the first time you’ve carried this many people?

Mal: yeah. Normally it’s just Ben. And even then it’s only if he asks.

Hadie: really.

Jay: let’s just say he wouldn’t watch GOT for the political intrigue

Carlos: or HYTTD for the animation

Evie: or merlin for the story line

Hadie (knowledgeably): ahhh, he’s a scaly

Core four: yep

Harry: can you let me go now?

Jay: uhhhh. Nah

Harry: why?

Mal: because we may yet need a human sacrifice. And you’re the only schmo who fits the bill.

Harry: huh?

Carlos: Gil and I are loved by everyone. I’m the kings adoptive son. He’s the kings brother. You’re the ground people use to scrape gum off their shoes

Evie: that’s an insult to shoes gum and ground. And scraping

Carlos: my apologies. To shoes gum ground and scraping

Harry: I hate you all.

Jay: don’t expect us to lose sleep over it

Harry: besides. I’m the last person who should be a sacrifice

Evie: that specific criteria has been discontinued

Harry: huh

Jay: people like you can be scarified now

Harry: shit

Mal: oh no. Oh no no no no no. This is not good

Evie: they’re all asleep. DOUG

Mal: BEN

Gil: LONNIE

Evie: please pickup please please please pickup.

Mal: nonononononono. Gah. I miss you

Gil: please be safe

Jay: Jane isn’t answering either.

Mal: ok ok ok. So. The king. His major-domo/regent. And both their regents are missing. All the remaining students are asleep. It’s only half past two in the afternoon but I already want to take a brandy bath. Because Auradon has no leader. So we’re all screwed to fuckery

Jay: well that’s not entirely true is it. Hadie could you summon the three little bitches. Cause I really really want them to see this

(Hadie makes Uma, Harriet and Cj appear via grey smoke)

Uma: what the hell’a going on?

Harriet (very confused): we were still on the bridge and what’s all that funny coloureds stuf on the ground?

Jay: you three are gonna hate this. You, Uma, especially are gonna hate it. (In his announcer voice) NOW PRESENTING. MALEFICENT BERTHA. THE ACTING QUEEN OF AURADON

(He bows to Mal, closely floored by Carlos Celia Gil and Hadie. Evie is pulled to her knees by Carlos. Mal looks like she was just clipped by a car)

Uma: what?

Jay: well after the wedding she’ll be queen legally. But for now she’s just the regent. It’s wonderful don’t ya think?

Hadie: it’s marvellous. Now bow heathens

Harriet: fat fucking chance.

Jay: oh but Harry’s bowing to the one true queen

Harry: Celia bent my spine

Celia: it was my pleasure

Uma: I am not bowing to that.

Jay: oh you act as if you have a choice

(He uses magic to make the three pirates kowtow to the dark fairy)

Jay: there ya go. Isn’t that better?

(Mal takes a swig of her hipflask and disappears into purple smoke. Everyone stands up again)

Gil: where did mal go?

Jay: I think I know

Evie: then tell us ohhhh. Yeah. Sounds about right

Hadie: where is she. I’ll go to her. Me Evie and Harry

Harry: I don’t fucking think so

Hadie: she’s family. We have to help her

Harry: I’ll bring the coughing

Evie: if that’s going with you then mal will probably commit a sin on sacred ground

Hadie: where is it that she’s gone to?

Jay: you’ll see

(He moves his lower arm around creating a cloud of gold smoke that surrounds Evie and Hadie. When it clears they’ve disappeared. The smoke deposits them on stone steps. Hadie’s clutching Harry’s arm)

Harry: I hate you. I honest to mmmmother hate you

Evie: feelings mutual. Come on let’s go

Hadie: where are we Evie

Evie: where the king was crowned a year and a half ago

(They enter the cathedral . Only Mal is now where to be seen)

Harry: well she’s not here let’s go

Evie: up bup bup. There is one way to lure her out of hiding. Hadie the dagger please

Harry (having flashbacks to when he was 14): no Nono don’t you dare dont you fucking think about it. FUUUUUUCK! She did it

(Evie uses the dagger to slash Harry’s shin. He falls down in pain. Mal pops up from behind the pulpit)

Mal: I heard Scottish screaming (realises she was played) aw crap I shoulda known. I hate it when you do that

Evie: it’s a tested tried and true method. Plus it’s fun to maim him

Mal: yeah...(she heaves a sigh and sits down heavily on the stage) I’m queen. “Yay” I want Ben. Is that pathetic? It sounds pathetic

Evie (sitting down next to her): no. I want Doug. Does that make me ok pathetic?

Mal: no. It’s a change though. Did you ever think two years ago we’d be wanting our boyfriends here protecting us?

Evie: two years ago I wanted to sink my claws into a prince. Now I have the perfect man

Mal: no, the perfect man bypassed you and asked me out. But Doug’s a close second though

Evie (cackling): bitch

Mal: sister. Older by a day

Hadie: May I scoot in if we’re sharing things?

Mal (making a space for him between her and Evie): sure. What do you want to talk about?

Hadie: I never knew my mother. And before you say “don’t rub it in”. I wasn’t born on the island. I’m an Olympian by birth. But when Adam set the isl...you know what, let’s just call it what it is. When Adam created the prison he convinced our beloved uncle Zeus to put our dad there first. Theory was that if Satan could be subdued by a human. Then other “undesirables” would be easier to round up. So when I was two weeks old, Zeus and Hypnos used their combined magic to put him and I there. I have never known anything else. And the next year Hook uh “hooked up” with a street walker, Harriet. And uh

Evie: not a lot stuff to do over there

Mal: well you know except

Evie: don’t. Please. Don’t. It’s bad enough I’m related to that thing on the floor. But having to imagine THAT happening. Gah...it crosses a line

Mal: thanks for the nightmares

Evie: you started it.

Hadie: I’m a hedonist. A disciple of Dionysus to be precise

(Evie looks at him with her mouth agape)

Evie: well that took a turn

Mal: what is a “disciple of Dionysus”?

Evie: it’s basically some sort of cult. Mostly guys. Girls are there as well. I had the unfortunate honour of delivering a flyer to one of their clubhouses last month

Hadie: sorry about that. I told them to be a little bit more discreet after that

Mal (overjoyed): no

Evie (slightly sick): it can’t be

Hadie: I was eighteen and bored. What else was there to do but set up a club

Evie: try to find us.

Hadie: whenever I wasn’t with my friends or our dad I checked up on you. One time you were trying to puncture the barrier with magic. And another you were crying in an alleyway Mal. I even tried to make a wig for you when you were in the market place with a buzzcut Evie.

Mal: that’s actually quite sweet.

Hadie: I just want to tell my mother “don’t worry. My life wasn’t completely terrible. I’m happy”.

Mal: when this is over I wanna tell Maleficent “fuck you, you giant living accessory, fuck you”

Evie: I want to tell Grimhilde. “You were wrong. Princes are not for me, Doug is perfect for me and I eat what I want when I want”

Hadie (wistfully) and Mal and Evie (vengefully): I cant wait to see the look on her face

(This is when “hey look ma, I made it happens. At the school Gil has a peace offering)

Uma: what the hell are these?

Gil: berries. They’re amazing. Blueberries, blackberries, strawberries, fun fact, never get in a strawberry eating contest with Mal. You will lose. And need your stomach pumped

Uma: this is this supposed to make up for what you did? You betrayed me. Abandoned me for this. No amount of whatever this shit is is gonna erase that

Gil: I didn’t leave because I wanted to hurt you Uma. I left because it was best for me. You know as well as anyone that the island is an awful place for people like us. So, yeah, I left. But that’s what you wanted. I did what you wanted. Just not how you wanted it to happen. The fact of the matter is Uma, you scare me. I still love you. But you scare me. All I could think of at the dance when you were attacking the ship was “this is what I get for trying to be happy”. I still have nightmares about it. If you care so much about getting kids off the island why were you so mad that I left. Irrespective of who I left with. Shouldn’t you be happy I got away at all?

Uma (standing up to her full height which just barely reaches Gil’s chin): you left me. To go galavanting off with them. You may not think it. But a lot of sins are never forgiven. So no. I’m not “happy that you got away” because you betrayed my loyalty to do so

Jay: Gil, buddy, leave her to stew. She’s not worth it.

(Gil leaves heartbroken and joins Carlos and Celia near some of the sleeping students)

Uma: lemme guess. You’re his bit on the side? Or is he your chippy?

Jay (chuckling sarcastically): oh Uma. He’s with Lonnie. I’m with Carlos. He and I are not together. But he’s done so well here. He’s great at chess and tourney and R.O.A.R. He’s set up a book club. Every month he goes to the isle and hands out flyers and food and blankets and weathers the hate he for it. He’s a good guy. And him “disrespecting you” wasn’t malicious. Because here’s the thing. You seem to be belabouring under the impression that this is your story. It’s not. It’s ours. It’s always been our story. Mal and me and Carlos and Evie. You don’t even get a look in until way way after this whole thing started. It is not about you. It has never been about you. I’m just sorry you still think that after all these years.

Uma: you don’t deserve to have people celebrate you after what you did.

Jay: what about what you did. You set Harry on Carlos five years ago. You kidnapped Ben and tried to murder him to get under Mal’s skin. Face it “Captain”, you say that what you do is for the island but it’s not. It never has been. What you did was for you. To make yourself feel less worthless than you are

Uma: so what now? You gonna kill me?

Jay: no. Not today. Not while Mal still feels guilty about the shrimpy incident. But I want you to know something. I would’ve done it you know. I would have murdered you if you murdered Mal and Ben. And neither Evie Doug Carlos or Dizzy could have stopped me. Because that is what you get when you mess with my family. And I would’ve made that thing that follows you around like a fixed mutt clean up your remains. Just bear that in mind next time you try to wrest control from my queen

(At the cathedral Harry’s trying to bandage his leg. Hadie sits down next to him and heals him with magic)

Hadie: there you go. All better

Harry: I guess I should say thank you.

Hadie: nah. Don’t expect you to. But I do wanna show you something.

Harry: what?

(Hadie flicks his wrist and there in a darkened bedroom. A baby’s bedroom. It’s filled with roughshod burlap sack stuffed toys hand stitched and fraying. A makeshift mobile of various coloured glass hangs above a safe looking but old crib)

Harry: where are we.

Hadie: where you should’ve been for the past nineteen years if I hadn’t panicked and took you to the Jolly Roger.

Harry: this is my room? At the wherever it’s was you lived.

Hadie: our room. At the lair.

Harry: holy shit. You two. You two wanted to

Hadie: yeah. Dad wanted to keep you. But I was four. You got stuck on the way out. I thought I broke you.

Harry: yeah well, a lot of people would say that there is as nuffink you coulda done

Hadie: I could d waited for dad to wake up. I could’ve asked her what to do.

Harry: like you said you four. When I was four I went down to the docks to try and get rid of ol leftie here. Thought it’d get dad to like me

Hadie: I know. I heard the story. Tick-Tock wouldn’t go for it.

Harry: why settle for the after mint when you can have the rotting steak? You can still see the scar. Look.

Hadie: is that why you carry the...

Harry: the hook? Yeah. That and added protection. For some reason people don’t really like me. Might be the skull face. I dunno

(Hadie laughs. Evie enters the illusion)

Evie (drolly): how sentimental

Hadie (brightly): hey sis

Evie: I mean I haven’t been this choked up since got a chunk of moussaka caught in my throat

Mal (also crashing the conversation): Doug made her laugh at a state dinner eight months ago.

Harry: well I’ve seen him. He doesn’t have to do much.

Evie: have you ever had a telekinetic wedgie?

Harry: no

Evie: oh. Then we’ll be in for a treat then

(Her eyes glow briefly, the illusion breaks and Harry’s lifted ten feet in the the air by the back of his underwear yelling in pain all the while)

Evie: you know, I’ve been thinking. The ember is defunct because calamari thee it in the bay. So we need to reignite it. And correct me of I’m wrong but hades has a massive temper problem?

Hadie: not for years but yes.

Evie: and Hook is the angriest person I know. So. If he by some twisted non miracle gets his hair set on fire while he’s holding the ember then it can work again.

Hadie: don’t appreciate the word phrasing. But I understand the general idea

Harry (bored): so how’re you gonna do it. Beat me up. Conjure up my worst fears.

Evie: talk to you. I’m just gonna talk to you. Believe me. It’s gonna hurt me a lot more then it hurts you. At least not physically

Harry: like I give a shit. Just get on with it so it can be over. Who’s got the pebble

(It conks him on the side of his head)

Mal (sarcastically): oops

Harry: ok first off. I hate you and your carcass needs to be burned with you still breathing.

Mal: immune to fire.

Harry: I meant iron.

(Mal lunges are him it Hadie holds her back)

Evie: now where was I? Oh yes. Breaking your spirit. You realise of course everyone hates you. Your father, us, Jay, Carlos, Ben. Hell. Even Gil only hung around with you out of pity. And Uma. The first chance she got she dumped you like yesterday’s trash. Because that’s what you are Hook. Trash. Useless rotting disgusting trash. Nobody loves. Nobody cares about you. Nobody wants you around.

Harry (nervously): Uma

Evie: threw you away and branded you traitor the minute you questioned her judgement. She never wanted a first mate or a, whatever it was you were to her, she wanted an easily malleable, easily swayed, lapdog. That’s all you were to her “Icarus”.

Harry (voice brittle): Harriet

Evie: lied to you for nineteen years. To save her own skin.

Harry (weakly): stop. Please. Stop

Evie: sorry for what I’m about to say Mal but it’s necessary. (Turning back to Harry). Did you stop when Carlos begged you to stop chasing him in the market that day. Did you stop when dizzy asked you taking all the money from the till? No? Then why the hell should I stop now? Face it Icarus. Nobody wants you. Nobody likes you. Nobody loves you! You mean nothing to anyone. You were born useless. You will die useless. So stop wasting everybody’s time and just do it. Die like the dog you are!

(Harry roars and lunges at her. She evades him easily and he crashes into the stage. He stands up. The verbal beat down worked. His eyes are glowing blood red. His hair on fire in the same colour. The ember has reactivated)

Harry: now it’s your turn

(He shoves his palm out and Evie’s thrown into the wall. Brass candle stands wrap around her neck and starts to dig into her skin. Evie screams hits and kicks at the air. Mal calmly walks up to Harry, uses the sceptre to stab him in the back and pulls out his heart)

Mal: put her down gently. Good. Now lie down like the bitch you are. (She notices Hadie looking at her in horror) what? Did you really expect me to touch him with my bare hands? Here you go (she swings the aorta over to him). You can put it back. You alright E?

Evie: yeah I’m ok. I’m just going to stomp on his face with SPIKED CLEATS!

Hadie: that horrible experience worked. Now we gotta try to make it work for all of us

Mal: how. And don’t say what I think you’re gonna say because I am not working with him

Hadie (sane time as her): we need to work together as a family

Evie: fuck

Mal: how’d you propose we do this then.

Hadie: friction. I think. When I got us out of the isle I rubbed the ember

Harry: and covered it in your own blood

Hadie: yes. So if we replicate that. Then maybe. Just maybe. We’ll all be able to use it.

Evie: good plan. But again. How do we all do it. Cause in case you haven’t noticed. There’s three of us. And one ember.

Hadie: Harry’s here as well

Evie: I know. I intentionally left him out. To me he doesn’t count.

Hadie: well dear you’re going to have to get into his headspace.

Mal: my Scottish accent is legally classed as offensive

Evie: it’s true. Absolutely fucking horrendous

Hadie: heh?

Mal: one time in class we had to put ourselves in the shoes of evil we hate most.

Evie: all four of us chose Harry.

Harry: now ya see what I gotta put up with?

Hadie: indeed I do.

Mal: gargh! Fine. We’ll do what you think is right. But only because I need to stop Maleficent. Ok.

Hadie (smoking giddily): ok

Evie: urgh fine.

Harry: whatever it takes for me to get away from these two twigs

(This is when “friction” happens)

#disney descendants #zendaya!mal

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ashandasindatails · 5 years ago

Text

Taffy’s Priestess

1700 words-ish Girl meets the dragon deity who she worships above the rest, the beginning of her long career of serving as her high priestess.

Short little story about a friend’s universe featuring me as a not dragon! This is the only story so far with that, haha. Basically just an Asinda AU.

Unfortunately italics did not copy over and I’m too lazy to go find every single instance of them, so sorry about that. On shorter posts I’ll remedy that; on longer ones I likely won’t be writing in tumblr so I’ll probably have a Docs link too.

Rest of the story under the cut!

Asinda was tired of walking.

She couldn’t stop, of course, but that was little consolation. What did make her keep trudging on was the thought of what she might find.

It had been three days now of walking through the forest. It wasn’t the biggest forest ever, but one dryad can only go so far in a day, even if they don’t have the brush to contend with like everyone else. So, it had been almost half a week of walking, foraging, and constant vigilance. She had Worrywort to keep her eyes open, but she was starting to feel the strain.

She ignored the strain. Asinda would walk for weeks to find what she was looking for, if she had to.

She ducked under a branch, letting the top of her head brush against it. The moisture from last night’s rain slipped off onto her head, peppering it in droplets. The small red and white flowers on her head began to soak it up. They were shaped like miniature dragon wings, hence the name Sprouting Flight. They were a rare breed, and probably what had started her fascination with dragons. Her mother claimed that meant that she was destined for something rare.

That ‘something rare’ had already passed.

In her youth, Asinda had been attacked by an illness that kept her bedridden for weeks. She had finally managed to pull out of it, after much praying and much medicine. She had mostly recovered, but the high fever had made its mark on her mind. She tended to talk a little bit slower, now, and she had a hard time staying on her feet. The forest helped with that; the soft touch of a vine or a nudge from a branch had protected her from many a fall. She didn’t see the effects, much, though people still commented on how she had changed.

Asinda didn’t care to notice.

Her jaunt through the woods was almost coming to a close for the day. The darkening sky meant that it would soon be too late to continue walking. Although this forest was kind, Asinda didn’t think the trees would appreciate her bouncing off of them in the dark, tumbling around in the bracken. So, she searched her surroundings in the twilight woods, finding a little clearing against a cliff face to spend the night. There looked to be a pair of caves carved into it, but Asinda preferred sleeping under the stars than in total darkness, dim as the light shining through the canopy was.

She set up for the night, letting her pack slide to the ground, digging around inside it. She didn’t need to make a fire - the summer night air kept her warm, and she didn’t need light for anything important. Plus, the forest didn’t like it.

Asinda changed into a set of sleeping clothes, made from a softer, lighter fabric. She made up a bed from the leaf litter on the ground, easing herself down into its soft fragrance.

Even when the moon was at its peak, she still wasn’t asleep.

Asinda sighed, shifting her position slightly. She was worried this would happen. On sleepless nights like this, she usually had Lyel, her tiny handmade dragon, to help soothe her to sleep. For some reason, she was the only one who could do it with any consistency. Even my sleep is dominated by scales, Asinda thought wryly.

There was one other thing she could do, but Asinda loathed the thought. When her flowers had just begun to grow, her mother had written a song, as she loved to do. It was about a young maiden searching for dragons. Even then, they had been a defining aspect of her person. Asinda’s mother often described her love for the divine beings as a glow, shining out from her heart and bathing everything around her in a bright light. Asinda had always giggled at the description. She couldn’t see how it shone outside of her, but she hadn’t questioned her mother on it.

She began to hum. The tune of the song was simple, but it had little complexities that made it unique. Asinda had never heard it played with an instrument, though she longed to. Working up the courage, she began to softly sing the words, letting her voice float through the trees. It warbled and wavered, not quite the right pitch, but always clear. She hadn’t ever sung it before, not even to an audience of flora such as she had. The life around her relaxed as it listened to her sing.

And Asinda drifted into sleep.

She was woken by a voice. It whispered softly, threading through her mind, pleasing and soft. It felt big - much bigger than any voice she had felt before. It knocked her out of her slumber, and Asinda opened her eyes to meet the green filtering down through the canopy. She couldn’t see where the voice had come from. Must have been a dream...

She stretched, sitting up. It was about an hour past dawn, judging by the angle of the light. She had slept late. I’ll have to pick up the pace today. She was heading towards the center of the forest, where she was more likely to run into the Drake of the Forest: Taphruss. Asinda had heard a rumor that the Drake was headed towards the Heart, and had set off in an instant, the temptation of being able to meet a dragon too much for her to resist.

After a morning call to the forest, Asinda had a small breakfast of fruit before packing up. She climbed to her feet, ready to continue her solemn march.

“Where are you off to, little one?”

Asinda froze in her tracks. That was… that was the voice from her dream. She glanced around herself frantically, trying to see who had spoken.

She was met with the cliff she had slept beside shifting and looking at her with sharp, piercing, beautiful eyes.

Taphruss.

Asinda’s mind jerked to a stop like a horseback rider hit by a pike. She couldn’t process what was in front of her. The only thing her head could come up with was DRAGON. It circled around, swimming through her empty consciousness. Nothing else could connect, not a single emotion or thought. Not even the dragon’s speech broke the spell.

“Little one? Are you well?” The enormous dragoness tilted her head to the side, inspecting. Asinda. “Has something gone wrong?”

And suddenly she could speak.

“OHMYGOSHIT’SYOUISLEPTNEXTTOYOURFACEI’MSORRYIDIDN’TREALIZEYOUWERETHEREANDIT’SACTUALLYTAFFYI’MSOSORRYDOINEEDTOBOWORSOMETHING?”

Taphruss blinked, surprised at the outpouring of words. “Calm, little one. What was that you called me?”

“T… T-Taffy.” Asinda blushed bright red, a stark contrast to the dark greens and browns of the dragon’s scales. “That… that’s what I used t-to, um, to call you when… when I was younger.” She omitted the part about playing make-believe with her imaginary versions of the Drakes. That detail was probably unnecessary.

The ground rumbled. It took Asinda a second to realize that it was Taphruss laughing. “Taffy,” she repeated, tasting the word, drawing it out. “I… well, I believe I like it, although that might be morning drowsiness. It fits your voice.”

Asinda had no response.

The dragon began to move, the trees seeming to slip around her, barely even rustling as her scales flowed between them. A large tail came forward, directly towards Asinda. Before she could move, it stopped right in front of her feet. The end was covered in a huge tuft of fur that was the color of bright summer moss.

“Come, little one. I’d like to hear more from you.” Taphruss sat still. Did she… did she want her to climb on her tail? The Drake of the Forest, inviting her - a crippled dryad - to ride on her back? These beings were literal gods. What… what was going on?

“I… I would… l-love… yes!” In her haste to board the Drake’s tail, Asinda forgot to be careful. Her feet tangled with each other, sending her face-first into the dirt.

Her world crashed down with her. Was she really about to do this? Would it be disrespectful? What if Taphruss actually didn’t like her? What if she couldn’t keep up with her expectations? She began to tremble, all of her thoughts mixing in a whirlwind, scattered like leaves before a gale.

She picked herself up slowly, staring at the ground, now shaking like an aspen. She bowed low before Taphruss, Drake of the Forest, and now witness to her clumsiness. She desperately clawed her lessons in court speech from the depths of her memory back to the surface. “I’m sorry, my, my Lady… I’ve been left with a poor sense of balance since youth.” She gulped, choosing her next words carefully. “Are… well, are you sure I’m worthy to… to be in your presence?”

Taphruss just laughed. “Of course, little one. If you weren’t, I would not have allowed you to stay near me all night. As it is, your song of dragons enchanted me. I would hear more, if you are willing.”

“I… my mother. She taught me the song.” Asinda cringed at her response.

“I would meet her, then. Come, guide me to her. I promise, little one, you are more than welcome on my back.” The dragon smiled. It was radiant, full of an intense love. And it was focused entirely on her.

That was all the convincing she needed.

“O-okay!” Asinda said, scrambling up onto the tail, walking along it carefully, all the way up it’s length until she reached Taffy’s back. It took several minutes, due to the sheer size of the dragoness and her careful, shaky movements, but the goddess stayed still and waited patiently for Asinda to make it all the way. At one point, she reminded her to take care, raising a blush on Asinda’s cheeks.

Asinda could feel the glow inside her heating up. She was atop a dragon. It was incredible. Taffy looked back to make sure she was settled, and Asinda was met with a striking profile of her face, all elegant curves and fine edges. She knew, from that moment, that she wouldn’t leave Taffy’s side unless she was forced. The thought of not being here, able to run her hands along the giant, green scales, filled her with dread. She loved every part of this being. She had walked for days just to catch a glimpse of a dragon; it was hard to believe that she had met one the one she longed to see.

The crown of Sprouting Flight on her head swayed as Taffy ruffled her wings.

The Drake and her new priestess slipped through the sunlight towards home.

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chimchims-cheeks · 6 years ago

Text

Third Love pt. 1

Genre: Fluff, soft Yoongi, smut later on, slight angst, an attempt at

humor, mentions of rape later on

Word count: 2941

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader (for a hot sec), Yoongi x Reader

Warnings: Really bad humor, Yoongi is really soft and sweet in this fic, none this chappy

Description: After you and your boyfriend Namjoon break you, you meet your best friend’s cousin Min Yoongi.

A/N: This is my first time writing anything like this. Please be kind, but definitely leave some criticism if you have any to offer.

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

In your life you were told you would have three great loves. The first love, the second, and naturally the last. Unfortunately for you, you were on the second love of your life. You and your boyfriend Kim Namjoon had been dating since your freshman year and his Sophomore year of University. Namjoon was the sweetest, funniest, and most intellectual man you had ever come across. He was your diamond in the rough. Of course all good things must come to an end at some point, somehow. As much as you loved each other there was no getting around the different paths life was going to lead you on.

The night was off to a good start you were both in the kitchen at your makeshift table eating last night's heated up leftovers.

“I got the promotion.” He whispered, face splitting into a wide grin. He was a general surgeon intern and had been working to gain this promotion that would help him receive experience years ahead of his time and speed up the internship. You shrieked and jumped your from seat.

“Oh my gosh, Namjoon this is huge!” You screamed throwing your arms around his neck. He laughed at your antics and leaned down to kiss you. He pulled away after a short time but when you looked at him all you could see was nerves painted across his face.

“Joonie? Are you okay? Aren’t you happy?” Your eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“We need to talk, Y/N.” He said pushing you back into your seat gently by the shoulders. You could feel anxiety beginning to swirl in your stomach.

“Y/N...this internship would entail me moving to England...London to be exact.” He paused to inspect your facial expression only to watch it drop. Tears began welling up in your eyes. You couldn’t believe it. He was leaving.

“Well...what if I come with you? We could move there together. Start a new life there together.” You whispered hopefully, voice cracking at the end.

“You know you can’t leave. You’re almost finished with your last year of University and you already have a job set here. Y/N, I love you so much but - but you are smart. You know what the best, logical thing to do here would be.” He choked out, barely finishing before the first tear drops spilled from his eyes. You had already succumbed to them, not even trying to hold them back.

“I don’t wa-want this t-to be the end. This is t-too soon.” You sobbed. You were hiccuping now and shaking your head profusely. You didn’t want this to be over so soon. He pulled you into a hug and rubbed your back in a failed attempt to be soothing. You were too upset to be soothed. He pulled back and wiped your tears away with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

“I know, I know. It’s not what I want either but this is the best way. While I’m there I need to devote my life, my mind, my body, all of me to this promotion. I love you but this is my dream. You’ve done so much for me and have always been there for me. I’ve been prolonging this for a week now because I couldn’t bare doing this any sooner, but my flight is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon and I couldn’t hide it anymore. I’m so so sorry that I’ve been keeping this from you, Y/N. I hope you can forgive me.” He looked at you sadly, and you could tell this broke him just as much as it did you. It hit you even harder now that you know he’s leaving tomorrow.

“Fuck.” You said quietly, not knowing what else to say or do. You stared at the wonderful man in front of you. You thought about all the times he talked about his dreams of being some sort of doctor superhero. You thought about how much his eyes shone while talking about his one true love and passion, saving people’s lives. You were going to miss his bed head and how sweet he was in the morning time. You thought about how deep his dimples were when he smiled at you, and you pictured what that same smile would look like at one of the most prestigious hospitals in the world. You were going to miss him to no end but you couldn’t stand in front of his dream job. You were not going to be the Ross to his Rachel.

“I love you so much Namjoon. I’m immensely proud of you. You’re going to do so much good. I could never stand in the way of your future. God, you are so bright. You are so amazing. Never stop being you, okay?” He fake gagged at your cheesiness. You smiled and let out a small laugh while shoving his shoulder.

“Hey, I’m trying to spill my heart here. Kim Namjoon you’ll do fucking amazing. I know you will.” You gave him a large honest smile.

“Thank you, Y/N. For everything. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. You are my biggest supporter. I love you.”

“And I love you, Dr. Kim Namjoon.”

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It had been a week since Namjoon’s departure and you honestly didn’t know what to do with yourself. It had been the first night of spring break when you and Namjoon had parted ways. So you had thankfully had the entire week to sit around and mope. On your way home after dropping Namjoon off at the airport and saying your final goodbyes you had picked up and entire gallon of Superman ice cream, your favorite, which you planned to eat over the span of the week. It was the last day of spring break and you were being plagued with sad dreams. That morning you jolted awake and and had to wipe away the tears leaking down your face. You had dreamt of Namjoon again. Which was no surprise really, you had always had wildy vivid dreams at least once a week but it got worse the more stress and mental hardships were placed upon you. Your emotional pain was almost physical as you could swear you felt the faintest ache in your chest where your heart was placed. Jimin had called you at least six times within the past hour and fourteen times over the past few days. You had decided to call your best friend and talk over everything with him.

“Is this the one and only Y/N finally calling me back? I want an explanation of where the fuck you’ve been. You haven’t called or texted me back. I was planning on sending a fucking search part-”

“Namjoon and I broke up Jimin.” You whispered. You had only known he heard it by the small intake of breath and the words dying in his mouth.

“You what? When? Why? How? Where? What? When?” He stuttered.

You let out a small laugh at his antics. Jimin and you had been best friends since your junior year of highschool. He had always been there for you when you needed him and you loved him for that. Jimin was the definition of the word extra, but you didn’t complain, because so were you and that’s why you both got along so well. That and your love of helping those in need. He is only 22 and has already started a nonprofit organization for homeless men and women in your state, to be fair he has been working on it since you both were 17 and still in highschool. He, along with Namjoon, is the most dedicated person you know.

“He got the promotion, but along with the promotion he got moved to London. We both knew with his busy upcoming schedule settling into the new workplace and along with mine since finals are coming up very soon, it’d be best to end that part of our lives together. Plus long distance relationships of that caliber are just plain rough, and he doesn’t need that distraction right now.” You said sadly, sniffing and holding back tears.

“I’m coming over.” He stated and before you could protest he had already hung up the phone. Half an hour later Jimin was stepping through your threshold with a jug of chocolate milk and a bag of gummy bears.

“I brought snacks, I figured you’d already have the ice cream.” He held up his hands as if it wasn’t obvious enough and smiled sweetly at you.

“Thank you. You’re the best Chim Chim. But I get to pick the movie.” He groaned in reply. You both got situated on the couch, you curled up in a blanket leaned on his side as the opening theme credits of Pirates of the Caribbean had began to play.

Tomorrow you had to go back to school and push Namjoon as far away in your mind as you could.

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This morning was a struggle. You had woken up with a headache and much to your dismay had started your period.

“Son of a fucking, fuck. Mothertrucking buttcheek on a stick.” You growled out as you stripped out of your clothes and stepped into the shower. “I swear to god this month as been the worst. I’m going to die before I even graduate at this rate. Maybe if I’m lucky I’ll get hit by a car on my morning commute. And now I’m talking to myself like a crazy person.” Of course you didn’t actual want to die. Although you had once gotten to a point in your life where the depression was almost too much for you to handle you had overcome it and now no longer had such thought. Plus to add onto it your anxiety had made you fear all the unknowns that death held.

After your shower you had gotten dressed, ate a sad breakfast that consisted of yogurt and water, brushed your teeth. You had just stepped out of your house when you realized you had forgotten tampons. Reentering and grabbing the cotton sticks of fuckery in a rush was not a good idea as you were a naturally clumsy person. You got caught in one of the discarded bras on your bedroom floor which sent you tumbling to the ground and you smacked your head on the door handle of your bathroom. In the midst of your pain you had mumbled out a joke to yourself about the fact you had literally just fallen into a booby trap.

After pulling yourself together you had let again. You had 20 minutes until class began and the walk there takes about 10 minutes. You put your headphones in and began your Troye Sivan playlist. The classroom was about half filled when you entered it, you took your normal seat towards the middle of the classroom, you liked it there as you were not too close to the front but also not too far away. You were watching students file in slowly, just as Bloom began to blast through your headphones a man you hadn’t ever seen before walked through the door. Nothing special happened how it does in the movies. There was no slow motion, there were no fireworks, and there wasn’t some magical fan that made his hair blow in the wind. However there was no doubt that he was just plain hot. He had fluffy black hair and a smirk that sat so naturally on his face he might’ve been born with it on his lips, there was confidence radiating off of him in waves. Despite this you couldn’t help to think that he resembled a kitten. His eyes skimmed the room only falling on you for a second before giving a bored huff. He began walking in your direction before passing you and sitting in the row behind yours about three for four seats to your right. You let out a small breath and cracked your neck, pulling out your headphones when the professor walked into the room. You were not going to let some cute guy distract you this close to graduation.

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Turns out he was going to be more of a distraction than you had hoped for. After a few days had passed when you met Jimin at his apartment for your monthly movie night, the man had reminded you of kitten had been sitting on the couch stuffing popcorn in his mouth.

“Oh Y/N, this is my cousin Yoongi. He’s staying with me until he can get settled and find his own place. I would’ve told you sooner but with everything that’s been going on with Namjoon I decided to leave it for a better time.” He smiled sheepishly.

You looked back at Yoongi and smiled. “Hello. My name’s Y/N.” You said awkwardly, talking to hot people was a struggle. Yoongi just stared at you, his lips turning up in a slight, polite curl.

“Alrighty then, enough introductions. Let’s get this movie night on a roll. What’re we watching? Mulan or Mulan?” Before you could even open your mouth, Jimin was already putting Mulan in. You rolled your eyes letting it slide because just as Jimin does, you love Mulan. You looked over to see how Yoongi felt about the movie but only saw his normal RYF (resting Yoongi face). Not sure what to take from it you looked back to the movie and reached for some popcorn You felt something warm, another hand and when you looked up you saw Jimin’s face inches from yours.

“Are you going to at least take me out on a date before you start holding my hand?” You shoved him away and heard him giggle.

“Shut it Chim Chim the movie is starting.” About halfway through the movie shifting to the left of you caught your attention. You looked over to see Yoongi passed out on the chair next to the couch.

“Hey, why did Yoongi move here all of a sudden and switch universities?” You asked in a whisper.

Jimin looked at you with furrowed brows. “I don’t actually know. When my mom called me to ask me if he could move in she didn’t explain much. Just that he wasn’t doing too well where he was at. I of course said that he could stay here as long as he needed, we were pretty close up until freshman year of high school, when my family moved. He’s changed a lot since then but he’s still a pretty good guy from what I’ve seen.” He informed you.

You pursed your lips and nodded your head. He did seem like an alright guy, a little distant, but nice nonetheless. About 30 minutes later the credits began rolling and you yawned. It was 10:30 and there was no way you were walking home at this time. You informed Jimin you were gonna stay the night. He nodded his head and went to his room, returning with a sweatshirt and sweatpants for you to borrow for the night. After you were finished changing you asked Jimin whether or not he should wake Yoongi up and tell him to move to his bed.

“Uhhh he’s kind of scary when he’s tired. Y/N, you have a hard exterior. You do it.”

“What he’s your cousin dipshit you do it.”

“No you!” With that he smacked you on the back and ran to his room.

“Fuck you Park Jimin.” You hissed out and grabbed your shoulder. You looked over at Yoongi’s sleeping form wearily. “Alright. You got this Y/N. You can do it. You just have to wake him up. No biggie.” You tiptoed over to him and gently shook his shoulder.

“Yoongi. Yoooongi.” You whispered. When he didn’t respond you shoved him slightly harder. He stirred but only a little bit before becoming a rock once more. You decided you had to change up your tactic, leaning down you put your lips two centimeters from his ear and took a deep breath.

“Yoongi!” You whisper yelled. He jolted up and shot his arm out in your direction. His hand made contact with your crotch and you doubled over.

“Jesus Christ your scared the fuck out of me!” He said frantically.

“You punched me in the fucking vagina!” You responded in the same tone. He looked down at his hand and back at you, his cheeks flushed ever so slightly. If it weren’t for the circumstances you would have laughed or gushed at how cute he is when he blushes.

“Who wakes a person up like that? W-what are you even doing anyways?” He said almost accusingly.

“Well maybe if you didn’t sleep like a rock I wouldn’t have to. I woke you up to tell you to go sleep in your actual bed. You’ll be more comfortable there.” His face softened slightly to this.

“Ah, okay. Are you staying here tonight?” He gestured down to your change in attire.

“Um yeah. I didn’t want to walk home this late at night. It’s kind of scary.” You smiled shyly, not expecting him to notice your outfit change.

“You can sleep in my bed if you want, I’ll take the couch.”

“No no it’s okay, I can’t take your bed from you. Thank you though.” You respond with a slight shake of your head and a smile.

“Alright, goodnight Y/N. Sweet dreams.” He gave you the gummiest smile you had ever seen. You waved and flopped onto the couch. You giggled slightly to yourself and couldn’t help but fall asleep to the thought of what his bed would be like to fall asleep in.

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#bts #kim namjoon #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #bts fic #lmao this fucking sucks might continue idk #soft yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi is a complete sweetie in this

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geminimoonbeamx · 7 years ago

Text

Naive: Part 4

A/N: I would give my first born child to be able to cuddle with Bucky while watching Harry Potter. That is all.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: More cursing in this chapter because I have the mouth of a sailor. There’s some dry humping action up in there too.

Summary: As the goddaughter of Tony Stark you were no stranger to the Avengers, but when you meet the newest member- you’re a little more then intrigued. Unfortunately for him, Bucky Barnes has caught your eye.

💘💘💘💘💘

You’re late.

As usual.

You race up the concrete steps of the “New York Museum of Natural History” as fast as the Steve Madden pumps on your feet will allow you, maneuvering past people, apologizing in your wake. How you had slept in late on your first day was a mystery to you.

Okay so it wasn’t much of a mystery. You and Wanda had, had an impromptu “girls night” which Sam had crashed and you’d guys had stayed up singing Karaoke in your living room until way past midnight.

You’d never get over the video you have saved on your phone of Sam’s rendition of Colt 45 by Afro man.

So you’d woken up to Wanda in your bed, her arm thrown around your waist and Sam passed out on your couch and had gotten ready in a flurry of curses.

Tony had thrown a banana at you on your way out “Breakfast really is the most important meal of the day!”

At least you’d managed to put yourself together, looked half way professional in your rust colored cardigan. First impressions really did matter, you’d be an idiot not to think so.

Your greeted by a pleasant enough looking woman, older with wisps of gray in her brunette updo.

“Hello, you must be Y/N” She greets. If she’s annoyed that I’m a huffing mess from sprinting in heels, she doesn’t say it “We talked over the phone a few days ago”

Oh yeah, the assistant director. The one who’d called you to confirm your internship.

You take her hand, shaking it in earnest “I am, and you must be Mrs. Martinez. It’s a pleasure to meet you”

“Please, call me Tina” You decide you think you like Tina right then “And the pleasure is all ours. Your credentials are very impressive, we’re excited to have you on the team. I’m going to walk you through what we’re going to be having help out with, make sure to ask me any questions you might have, okay?”

You nod eagerly, trying not to look less like the college student you are and more like the boss ass business woman you aspired to be.

This was it. You we’re coming up in the world. Watch out, earthings- you thought to yourself. I’m about to fuck shit up.

Hah. Boy, we’re you wrong.

You hobble into the lobby of Avengers Tower, the sky had turned bruised and purple as the sun set on the city.

“Are you okay, Miss Y/N?” The secretary behind the large, curved desk asks as you all but limp past and you just raise your hand, giving a lack luster thumbs up as you get into the elevator.

All you wanted to do was collapse somewhere warm and soft, and chase a glass of wine with a blunt.

You’d spent the entire twelve hour day running. Constantly. And it’s not like you hadn’t intended to be on your feet- but you’d made at least a dozen laps around the museum. Running files from department to department.

You’d done seven coffee runs for the scientists in the Paleontology lab. FUCKING SEVEN.

Like, you knew you we’re going to be an errand girl but the extent of it was almost laughable. You should have known you were in deep crap when another of the interns had given you a look that was bordering apologetic.

You kind of wanted to avoid other all other human life but you knew Tony was waiting to hear all about your first day “of big girl, Indiana Jones life”. That asshole.

You’re almost to labs when the elevator dings and stops, the doors opening for another passenger.

You force yourself to prepare to smile, try to be pleasant. It’s not who-ever’s about to climb on with you’s fault that you’d been ran like a horse all day.

The grimace like grin you had plastered on your face melts into an honest one as passenger number two is revealed to you.

“Hey there handsome”

Bucky’s standing there, a packet of papers in his metal hands. He’s dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans, a dark t-shirt and a black suede moto jacket. His hairs tied at the nape of his neck instead of handing in his face as usual, his steely eyes seem to be more prominent then you’d ever seen them.

“Hey, doll” Bucky returns your grin as he enters the compact space with you.

“What floor you heading to?” You ask, ready to hit the button for him. He’s heading to the labs too.

He cant help but look you up and down out of the corner of his eye. You looked…small. With your heels in your hands and the heavy way you lean back against the rail. You’ve thrown your hair to one side of your head, and the smooth expance of your neck is on display. He tries to keep himself from following the trail of skin down, tries to keep from tracing the supple lines of your cleavage with his eyes.

“How was your first day?” He strikes up a conversation.

You cant help it. You need someone to vent to.

The groan you make as you roll your eyes makes him think it wasn’t all you’d cracked it up to be “That bad?”

“No- I mean it wasn’t really bad. It just wasn’t what I was expecting is all” You try not to sound as whiny as you feel.

“What’d they have you doing? Scrubbin’ the floors?”

“Ha-ha. Not quiet. I did get my cardio in for the next month though. I had to run errands for everyone all day”

He gives you a sympathetic little look, soft. His eye brows pulling together. “Sorry it wasn’t all you we’re hoping it would be”

You feel a little stupid. How could he sit here and be sorry I had one shit day at work? When he’d had a shit 80 years or so? You don’t understand Bucky, not really. Not yet. But he makes your chest ache.

“Don’t be. I mean it’s another step towards my dream so I shouldn’t be complaining. Plus I get to snoop and check out the exhibits that they keep off limits so that’ super cool”

Your stomach grumbles, attention grabbingly loud and you give him a sheepish little look.

“They not feed you, doll?” Bucky query’s down to you. Did you eat today…you realize you’d had nothing but that banana Tony had hurled at you earlier. And a few cups of coffee.

“I didn’t have any time” You verify “I mean I ate breakfast earlier so-”

“Earlier like twelve hours ago earlier?”

You’d been running on empty all day? How?

“Yeah. I’ll order something later, I’m fine” You shake off his slightly worried tone, even though it’s endearing as hell.

Bucky was an enigma to you.

He was this huge bear of a man, with the scruff that lined his sharp jaw and his arms that we’re bigger then your head and the metal arm that seemed to radiate sheer strength. And yet he seemed soft somehow. Caring and funny and light and dark and a bit stand offish.

He sparked your curiosity like no other. He had since you’d first met him. He was also devastatingly handsome so that didn’t help your little fixation.

Like no joke, he was like male model material. Pornstar makings.

“What are you doing later?” you find yourself asking him.

“Umm, I’m not sure. I don’t really have any plans” Bucky confesses. When was the last time he’d actually had plans? Not involving missions or the team?

“Well since you’re free do you want to have our movie date? We can order Chinese or something and watch the first couple of the movies?”

Your taking a leap. You feel it. He could easily say no, you’d heard him turn down oppertunities and hang outs with the others plenty of times in the couple of weeks that you’d been at the tower.

If he says no, you conclude internally, your not going to take it personally. You’re a grown woman who could handle rejection. It wouldn’t hurt your feelings…too bad.

For all of the warnings he’d received about you, he answers shamefully fast.

“Yeah sure” his timbre voice is cool and collected, the elevator chimes again, you’d made it to the labs.

You beam at him “Yeah? Yay! I’m on the 15th floor so you can just come up later on. Maybe 8ish?”

“I’ll be there, doll”

Oh the fucking thrills that came with his pet names. Your stomach lurched and your face felt warm.

“I’ll see you then. Wear comfy clothes” you voice is extremely provocative before walking away.

Well you wouldn’t have considered it a provocative, but Bucky does. The way you had said those words to him…the promise they held, that devious glint in your eyes…

He’s hit with that dizzy, dazed feeling that you tend to leave him with.

And even though he knows it’s probably the worst fucking idea, he cant wait for tonight.

Tony and Bruce fret over you, which is annoying and endearing at the same time. Bruce thinks they can lower the dosage on your medication again, Tony says he doesn’t want to risk it. Bruce points out that if it was any other patient, Tony knows he would be willing to do it. That it was the logical thing to do.

And guess what? Tony doesn’t care. He’s not risking it. You’ve been on those pills for nearly two decades, he wasn’t going to make any rash changes when bringing you down off of them. You’d keep on the same dosage for a couple more weeks and then they’d lower it again.

You know when to pick your battles and even though it’s irritating you sigh “Fine. But in two weeks we’re lowering it, and you cant complain when we do”

He’s gotten his way, so he’s not affected by your sour remark “In two weeks I won’t argue when we SAFTELY bring the dosage down another notch”

He makes you even madder when he asks about your day and you tell him that you’re a “glorified assistant. And you don’t even get paid for it”.

He laughs at you. Like literally laughs at you.

“You’re an intern, what did you think you’d be doing? Making calls to the Smithsonian and rearranging the dioramas?”

You accuse him of being a huge dick and then stomp away from him, ignoring his calls of “I’m just kidding Y/N. Don’t be like that. We can go get Mexican? I know it’s your favorite!”

You flip him off, and without turning back around tell him “I’m tired, I’m going to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, you can buy me a chimichanga then”

Of course, you don’t tell him what your real plans we’re for the night. He was…protective, to put it lightly and you weren’t in the mood for a Stark scowl.

Tony sighs. Yep, you we’re just like your mother.

As soon as you enter your place, your shimmying out of your jeans, exhaling in relief at the free feeling. Your bra’s next.

Home is where the bra isn’t. A quote you lived your life by.

You end up changing into a comfy camo printed T-shirt, the material of it breathable and loose and a pair of tiny gray spandex shorts: your usual choice of pajamas. You look at yourself in your closet mirror.

Was it reeeeally necessary to put on a bra for you and Bucky’s movie night?

The shirt was loose enough that you couldn’t tell that much? There was minimal nippleage.

Fuck it.

If anything you’d be wrapped up in blankets anyway. You brush the knots of the day out of your hair until it’s shiny and bouncy again before you rub grapefruit-cocobutter all over your hands and legs.

Your makeup has mostly stayed put during the day, since you’d drowned yourself in setting spray this morning. You just apply a little chap stick cause matte lipstick makes your lips look like a butthole and dab at the outer corners of your eyes, wiping away the excess liner that had built up.

It wasn’t like you were trying to be full glam or anything, but you couldn’t help but want to be…presentable for Bucky.

You’re not an idiot…or maybe you are. It’s debatable, but you had a way of picking things up. You weren’t oblivious to people’s intentions, to what they were feeling and you could swear that with the signals Bucky was giving out he at the very least was attracted to you. In some way.

It could be totally innocent, you chide yourself. You knew how…flirty you could be. He could just be flirting back, for the sake of it.

You know you we’re guilty of such things.

You’re stomach growls viciously again, pulling you out of the train of thought. You reach for your phone, finding the number to Tsai Chin Garden, a little Chinese restaurant in SOHO that had a killer sushi menu and raising the device to your ear.

You wonder if Bucky even likes sushi? What should you order him? You get a little of all the things you like and hope that he might like it too.

Bucky finds himself on the fifth floor, outside of the door to your place.

He’s more nervous then he thinks he’s been in decades. When was the last time he’d had a date with a pretty dame.

Fuck, scratch that.

He had to stop thinking of it as a date. Just because you called it a “movie date” didn’t mean that’s what it was. The slang was different these days. He knew that’s not what you really meant.

He’s not as restless about that though, more because he’d gone and lied to Steve. But what was he supposed to do? The man wouldn’t stop giving him shit about you, warning him up and down to stay friendly.

In Bucky’s humble opinion, he was one of the friendliest son of a bitches out there. So why wouldn’t Steve back off? What, everyone could be friends with you but him? How was that fair?

So instead of telling Steve the truth, he’d told his best friend that he was going to cut in early. That he was “feeling a little under the weather” and needed some time alone. Steve didn’t question it. Not only because it was a damn good lie; Bucky did frequently seek alone time but because he had a date with that pretty little blond, Sharon.

“Have fun on your date, punk” Bucky had sing songed to him.

“It’s not a date, jerk”

Looks like the both of them had “not dates” that night. Somewhere, pigs we’re flyin’.

Bucky rasps on the door and takes a deep breath and musters all the umph he has. All the memories of how he used to be with gals, because once upon a time, he’d would have been cool and sauve about a situation like this instead of a nervous wreck.

When you answer the door, it sliding open electronically as you tap in the keypad, you give him that dimpled grin and he lets his breath out in a huff. Most of those jitters leave his body as he exhales because that smile of yours is like a ray of light.

“Hey! Come in”

Your “apartment” is homely and seems to have a golden glow about it, maybe that’s from the many candles you have lit that leave the place smelling like a bakery. The layout is open, the living room and the kitchen separated only by a marble island like bar, and yet still manages to feel cozy. His eyes take it in, it’s so different from the rest of the tower. Where Tony is all modern décor, sharp and clinical, your space is rich looking. Inviting, and relaxing and almost familiar.

He liked it. A lot. It fit you.

“Nice place you got here, doll”

“You like it? Thank you! Tony actually did a really good job, right? Well Tony’s decorator that is” you chuckle “Are you hungry? I didn’t know what you liked so I just kind of ordered a little bit of everything”

On the geometric gold coffee table, there’s an impressive littering of white take out boxes.

“Trust me, I’ll eat just about anything” Bucky reassures you and you nod in relief “I’m not picky. Let’s start these life changing movies, then?”

He wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t picky, but you’re sure glad you’d decided to get so much food because none of it was going to go to waste. The man is a bottomless pit, and you watch him demolish an entire large order of Lo Mein in one go. Then the box of beef and broccoli in three bites.

You want to squeeze his cheeks, something about seeing him like this made him seem so young.

Your both sat on the long couch, you’ve pulled a mountain of fuzzy blankets out of the linen closet and dimmed the lights as you start Sorcerer’s Stone.

“The cat’s a lady? Or the lady’s a cat?”

“How old is he?”

“He looks younger then eleven”

“Oh shit”

“His cousin deserved that. Little prick”

“Who’s that guy? He’s a giant? Oh okay”

“He who must not be named? Do we ever figure out his name?”

“He’s supposed to run through the wall? What?”

“Honestly Dumbledore is the coolest looking SOB I’ve ever seen”

Bucky’s commentary makes you laugh, he really is trying to wrap his head around the movie. Paying more attention then you thought he was going to, following the storyline and asking you questions when he didn’t get it.

The swell of affection you have for this man for appreciating the art form that is Harry Potter is crazy. You want to reach out and hug him, run your hair through his loose, ebony locks. Lean against him, or grab his hand. Things that you wouldn’t think twice doing to other people, but that you hesitated on with him because you weren’t so sure how he’d react. You didn’t want to freak him out.

But you ache so desperately to touch him.

You keep your eyes off him, keep them glued to the screen, try to loose yourself in the familiar story.

You miss they way Bucky keeps stealing looks at you.

You, all wrapped up in the pink furry blanket, your big eyes focused on the movies that you’d been so excited to show him. All that tension he’d seen on your face earlier was gone and you looked genuinely happy to be there, with him, in that moment. The dim light emitted from the screen played with your features, danced in your hair and made your long eyelashes cast eerily beautiful shadows on your cheek bones.

“Oh, oh this is one of my favorite parts! Look!” You encourage, your hand reaching over to grab at his flesh arm, squeezing it a bit as the both of you watch Harry catch the golden flying tennis ball with his mouth.

It goes on like this for the entirety of the first movie. You reaching over to touch him, light little touches. Friendly and fleeting and fucking torturous. Every time your reach for him, pat his thigh in excitement or tug on his sleeve to urge him to really pay attention he feels his stomach clench and his breath hitch. The metal plates of his arm rotate and twitch as he tries to keep his cool.

“You down for one more?” You ask hopefully as the credits begin to roll, the melody you know by heart filling the room.

Bucky knows he should say no. He also knows there’s no way in hell he’s going to.

“I’m game if you are, dollface”

You jump up happily to switch the DVDs and he cant help but get an eyeful of your backside. Your in another pair of tiny shorts, they hug the wide curve of your of your plump ass. Fuck, the way you moved in them had him wanting to throw his hands over his eyes. How could someone be so innocent and yet so…so…

You were killing him.

And he didn’t even know if you we’re aware of it.

Your babbling away about the second installation as you slide the DVD into the slot in the TV and then return to him.

But you don’t go back over to the opposite arm of the couch. No, you grab your blanket and sink down right next to him, the side of your body pressing against his shoulder as you pull your legs up and tuck them under you.

“Is this cool? It’s freezing over there because of the vent” You explain yourself. It’s only half a lie.

“Yeah, of course. Sure” Bucky tries to blink away the buzzing in his brain as you settle in, tossing the faux fur shawl over you and adjusting a bit. You feel so warm against him, so solid and plush and close. So fucking close.

There’s no way he’s going to be able to pay attention to this one, he decides only ten minutes in. Not with him being able to feel every breath you take. Every little laugh that shakes you body, every miniscule movement.

When you lean even closer, to rest your head on his shoulder he nearly jumps ten feet in the air.

“Is this okay?” your breathy little voice asks again as you trace his forearm lightly through the Henley he wears, your temple resting on his firm, muscular shoulder.

You cant help it. You’ve tried.

You need to indulge, even if you just get to touch him a little bit.

Bucky swallows hard, “Uh huh” is all he mutters.

It’s more then okay. The way your fingers are swirling mindless designs on his arm, the way the sweet, lemony, smell of your hair wafts into his nose.

Your not content with the barley there touches for very long, you want, no you need more. You press yourself closer, as close as you can get. You can feel the warmth of his skin radiating through the barriers of both of your shirts. It’s so soothing, so alluring. You nuzzle his shoulder a little, your nose running along the cotton of the shirt.

Bucky swears he cant breathe. Not normally at least, his breaths are shallow as he feels you press your breasts to his side, feels your scorching breath on his shoulder as you attempt to wiggle closer to him. He wants to grab you, and crush you to him. Wants to kiss you until you look as desperate as he feels because he’s realizing just how touch starved he’d been.

For so long. He hadn’t had human connection like this in. So. God. Damn. Long.

You let out a little yawn and it’s honestly the cutest thing he’s ever head.

“Bucky?” there’s that voice again. The airy, near child like one. Saccharine and completely mind fucking. The one that made his eyes feel like they might cross.

“Yeah?” His own voice is gruff and strained and you hesitate for a minute because you might really be pushing your luck.

“Do you want to cuddle?”

The question is so innocent, and you sound so pleading. How was he supposed to say no?

“Yeah, we can do that”

You giggle at his response and reach over to hug him around his thick middle for a moment like you’d been aching to for days, you can feel the ripple of his defined stomach muscles.

You then sit up, pulling yourself away. Tearing your softness from his grip and his eyes snap to yours confused. He looks like a kicked puppy, the way his thick eyebrows arch at the center. You smile and reach to run your finger over the crease in between them, trying to smooth it out a little bit.

“Lay back” You instruct him, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth. He does so without breaking eye contact with you, he cant look away from that sexy look on your face. On you chewing on your plump lip. He wants you to climb ontop of him, imagines you mounting him and riding him. Hard. Instead you lower yourself down next to him, your back pressing right to his front, lying your head on his metal arm. You move around a little bit, trying to find that sweet spot. You maneuver him to where one of his legs is sandwiched between your thighs and his back is resting comfortably against the couch.

You could be a professional cuddler if you wanted to. When you find it, that position where your bodies seem to mesh seamlessly you sigh through your nose and your muscles relax.

Bucky still seems a little tense though, stiff, like he didn’t know how to move. “Are you comfortable?”

With this? With me? Am I too heavy? All those questions race in your mind.

Bucky was more comfortable then he’d been in- hell he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so sated. He just didn’t really know what to do with himself. He could believe you were here, your head resting on his mechanical arm as though it wasn’t a deterrence. As though he was normal.

“Yeah, pretty girl, I’m comfortable” Bucky reassures you, he runs his nose expirementally through your hair. The smooth strands carassss his face.

“Then hold me” you huff humorously, grabbing his flesh hand and lacing your much smaller(but chubbier fingers) with his long ones and tugging on him a little. He laughs at your demanding nature and proceeds to wind his arm around your middle, pulling you back so hard you let out an excited little woosh.

You don’t let go of his hand.

“Isn’t Dobby the cutest? I love him” you tell Bucky sleepily as you continue to watch the movie even though your eyelids felt heavily weighted.

“Mmm, I think I know someone a little cuter” Bucky mumbles, he’s now burrowed his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, his hot mouth is pressed into the sensitive skin there, the stubble in his chin lightly scraping.

“Yeah? Steve?” You can’t help but be a smart ass. It’s just who you are.

The chuckle he releases vibrates againts your flesh and you can’t help but wiggle your hips back into his, instinctually. His hips nudge up to meet yours, rutting gently. Craving the friction.

You grin widely and feel a blush creep up your neck as you feel the firmness pressing againts you.

Awe, had you gotten him hard that fast? Poor baby.

You continue to push pack into him, grinding deeply into his sweat covered erection. Your ass moving it from side to side, up and down.

Bucky’s breaths are puffs in your ear, harsh sounding as he focuses on the sensations your giving him. He hadn’t felt anything like this in so long. He jerks hard, scootching you forward with how powerful it is.

The whimper you let out makes him press a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck. You untwine your fingers and take his open palm, dragging it upwards along your torso and placing it directly over one of your breasts.

Bucky knows what you want, he squeezes the doughy flesh groaning quietly when he feels that your thin shirt is all that separates him. Your nipple strains againts the material, he can feel it poke his palm.

In that moment, he’s a little overwhelmed. His head is swimming with all of the sensation.

“Y/N I don’t- I don’t have uh- I mean I haven’t-” he stutters over himself and you stop moving and grab his hand and bring it your lips, kissing his knuckles soothingly.

“It’s okay, Bucky. I don’t want to- not tonight. I just want to be close to you like this. It feels so good” try to sedate him, try to bring him back to you. Your hips swirl in a small, gentle circle over his still throbbing erection “doesn’t it? Feel so good?”

He moans, and it’s such a beautiful cherub like sound. “You feel so, so amazingly good” he’s so drunk on you. All he can smell is you, all he can feel are your soft curves and the tickle of your hair.

You let him drink you in until you both fall asleep, completely intertwined. Buried under furry blankets and the credits of Chamber of Secrets rolling on the tv screen.

https://xgminigypsy.tumblr.com/post/166703266654/naive-part-5 PART FIVE

——–

Okay but why is this all I want in my fucking life? Sorry for the loooong chapter. Did you like it? How’d you feel about this little tease of smut. And would you liked to be added to the tag list? Tell me ya'llllll. I love your comments!

@devenrenee @skeletoresinthebasement @kendallefire @mellifluousbabe @toniinhere @agentmstark @purplekitten30 @bellaballanda @yslbucky @arabellaaurorabarnes @prinxessofspace @supernaturally-lucky @sngforme @kyritha @the-strandedgypsy

#bucky barnes x plus size reader #plus size reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #tony stark #tony stark daughter #mcu imagine #mcu smut #steve rogers #wanda maximoff #poc reader

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taxesdeathtrouble · 7 years ago

Text

Little Magic

I’m posting this here too because i have no self control lol

gertchase, 5700 words, title is from Ella Enchanted!

Enjoy!

The scene keeps replaying in her head.

The armed robbers, hitting the gas station they'd went to for supplies

Chase, brave, stupid Chase, trying to fight them, without weapons, without help

Chase getting sent halfway across the store for his efforts, Chase hitting a wall of shelves, knocking everything down

Chase not getting up.

Gert and Alex had had to carry him to the car, an arm thrown over each of their shoulders.

She'd sat in the back with his head in her lap, Alex driving, scared out of his mind but trying his best to be reassuring. It wasn't working, and Gert was crying, she didn't know when it had started, but the tears just wouldn't stop, and she kept trying to get him to wake up, but nothing was working-

She's got to stop thinking about this. Chase is only in the next room, and he is, for all intents and purposes, fine. He's bruised, and his arm is fucked up, but nothing serious. Except.

Except he still hasn't really woken up.

Nico had dragged him out of unconsciousness (alone, they hadn't wanted to overwhelm him) to make sure he didn't have any serious injuries and to give him some painkillers; the four of them watching anxiously through the door the entire time. But when she made him go back to sleep, she warned them: Chase probably wouldn't wake up for a while.

And Gert knew that running away would have it's consequences, the lack of real food and the constant chill in the air at the Hostel being just a few examples. But watching one of her friends get hurt is an increasingly frequent experience that she really doesn't like.

She remembers the first time someone got hurt. Herself, Molly, and Karolina had gone to a camping supply store a while away from the Hostel, they hadn't wanted to be tracked back there. They were just about to get in the van, which they'd parked about a mile away from the store, when they'd heard a noise.

A woman yelling, begging, for help.

The three of them had ran towards the sound to find a man holding a woman at knife point. Molly snuck up and jumped him while Gert and Karolina pulled the woman away to safety. It was probably the worst possible plan, but they were all scared and stressed and freaked out. Molly pretty near broke the guy's collarbone, and he ran off, but not before cutting her with his knife, lightning fast.

Moly has a scar, now. Gert still hasn't forgiven herself for it.

She watches the door from where she sits in the common room, somehow expecting Chase to walk in any second now, but of course he doesn't.

"Hey," Karolina puts her hand on Gert's shoulder, squeezing. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she says, even though she's really not. "I just hate when one of us gets hurt, you know? Just, knowing what our parents did, knowing what we grew up around, it just makes me worry that someone won't," her voice lowers to a whisper, "won't come back." She wants to say something, anything, about how it's even worse because its Chase, and Chase is.......special. But she doesn't, because that's totally not the conversation she wants to have right now.

Karolina sits on the arm of her chair and wraps an arm around her shoulders. Gert is so glad they're friends.

"I get it, Gertie," she's still the only one who calls her that, "I really do. It's terrifying to even think about it, and if I know you, every time someone leaves the Hostel you're probably thinking about it, right?" she nods.

"But here's the thing, statistically, something bad isn't going to happen every time someone leaves your line of sight. Just because you can't be there to make sure isn't automatically going to put a friend in danger. And I know you're still going to worry, but try to think about that when you do, okay?"

Gert nods, wiping away a stray tear. "I don't know when you got so good at this. You didn't used to be a teenage Obi Wan, what happened?"

"I accepted myself, learned how to really be me. It took a lot of introspection, I guess? And when you spend so much time in your own head, you occasionally have some wisdom to share."

"Again, deep as hell." Karolina laughs, and squeezes her again. It's nice.

"Come on, Alex is putting in Revenge Of The Sith."

"Really? that's the movie he chose? I'm gonna make him put in The Empire Strikes Back, at least that one's good."

They make their way to the makeshift TV room they have set up, the cheap projector they'd bought after everyone had gotten too stir crazy to function already set up. She bickers with Alex over the movie, and it doesn't get resolved until Molly grabs The Dark Knight and sticks it in.

The movie is good, but they've all seen it a bajillion times- they only have about eight movies in their possession- so they don't really pay attention. They're all just looking for a distraction, and there's no way they're going back out again, especially not after an altercation. Gert does not want to go to jail, especially for something she didn't even do.

Well. They did, technically, sort of, kidnap Molly. But they definitely didn't kill Destiny. Fuck, their parents were awful.

Before she heads to what she can only generously call her bedroom, she makes sure to check on Chase. Her calm can only go so far.

She all but tiptoes into his room, making sure not to wake him up. She sits on the side of his bed and inspects him, catalogs every bruise and cut. The robbers had really done a number on him.

She brushes the hair out of his eyes, which, to be fair, is stupid, because he's literally asleep. But it makes her feel better. It's a reassurance that he's here, that he's as safe as he can be right now.

She leans in, presses her lips to his forehead. She'll say until the day she dies that it was just to check his temperature, make sure he doesn't somehow have a fever. But really, she just wants to comfort him. His eyebrows are furrowed together even as he sleeps, but once she pulls back his features relax. He looks peaceful.

~~~~~ Chase's dreams have always been detailed, but this is a little much even for him.

He's lying in bed, and he's in pain. So, so much pain. He's not sure that part is a dream.

Gert creeps in, even with his eyes mostly shut he can tell it's her. Her hair, for one thing. The longer they've been here the more her roots show, but it's still almost completely purple. The way she walks for another, her confident gait still completely recognizable, no matter how much she tries to stay on her toes. She softly sits on the side of his bed, and he kind of wants to open his eyes all the way, but he can't bring himself to do so. And it's not like it matters, anyways. This is a dream, after all.

She ghosts her fingers against his forehead, fixing his hair. He thinks she might say something, but she stops herself, leaning in and kissing his forehead instead. All the tension bleeds out of him immediately.

It really is a dream, then. Because that's another thing about his dreams.

They are always, always about things he wants.

~~~~~

The next morning, she goes through her routine. She deflates her mattress, and zips up her sleeping bag. Opens her suitcase, changes, and makes sure everything is in its place. Brushes her teeth with the bowl, bottle of water, and two dollar mirror they each have in their rooms. Pulls a brush through her hair, checks her roots. Damn, they're really starting to show. She's been contemplating lately if they need stuff for haircuts. She'll have to talk to Alex/Nico about it. Probably Nico, though. She cares a lot more about whether she needs a haircut than Alex does.

She throws on an overly large button up before she leaves her room. It might be Chase's or Alex's, she's not sure. They'd gotten into the habit of sharing clothes a week or two after getting to the Hostel. When there isn't much, share everything.

In the common room, only Alex and Molly are up, and Molly just barely, laying on the couch while Alex attempts breakfast on the portable stove. She tries to see if she can help, but notices he's mostly done with the oatmeal, so she sits on the couch and waits for him to pass her a bowl.

"What time is it?" She asks as she takes her first bite. It tastes exactly the same as it has every morning for the past three months, but hey, at least they get a hot meal every day.

"Around tenish. Why? Do we need to have a meeting?" One thing she can't decide if she likes about Alex is that he's almost always on task, no matter what. It's great when they're actually planning something, but at ten in the morning? Nuh-uh.

"Nah, I was just wondering why no one else was up. Has anyone checked on Chase?"

"Yeah, Molly looked in when she woke up. Still conked out."

"Oh." She wishes he would just wake up already. It's weird without him, even just for a day.

"Hey, is that my shirt or Chase's?" he asks, taking a bite of his oatmeal.

"You know what, I was just wondering the same thing, and I really can't tell. We should really start labelling things, for efficiency's sake."

"Oh, that's a good idea, I'll put it in the ImpBook." ah, the ImpBook. Alex's attempt to fill the hole his laptop had left behind when he couldn't bring it- that was the one thing they'd agreed on at first, no tech, it was too easily traceable. The ImpBook has every idea and rule they'd come up with, plus an inventory of their belongings. Alex is never seen more than five feet away from it.

The 'Imp' in ImpBook stands for important. Alex still isn't very creative.

Nico shuffles in then, spooning out some oatmeal and sitting down next to Molly. She'll never say it out loud, but Gert is so glad that Nico and Alex broke up. Once they ran away, they'd get into fights constantly, over plans, over food, over anything. But now that they've broke it off, they haven't yelled at each other in weeks. They both seem a lot happier, too, although now the big thing everyone secretly (and lovingly) complains about is Nico and Karolina sending Pining Looks to each other and batting their eyelashes. Like, just get together already, you know?

But Gert is never allowed to say stuff like that, because every time she does Molly and Alex look at her like she's said something absolutely hilarious that they're not allowed to laugh at.

Now that she's not just leaving Alex alone to deal with a sleepy Molly, she goes to find the book she'd been reading yesterday, before they'd left for the gas station and everything had gone to shit. When they'd ran, the plan had been to only bring essentials, but there was no way she was going to go somewhere with no Wi-Fi and no outside connection without at the very least a book.

Well, actually, 12 books. But hey, who's counting?

She meanders to the TV room and plops down on the couch. She's not sure why, but the couch in here is her absolute favourite. It's soft, and overly stuffed, and Old Lace is always hanging out in here when's she's not trailing Gert's every move. Oh wait, that's why.

Gert loves having her own dinosaur.

Old Lace is lid out next to the couch taking a nap, so she takes a big step over her and plops down on the couch, trying to find her page. It's a good book, one of her favourites. She's had it a long time, since Chase gave it to her when they were 11.

It was her birthday, and she'd had her party at the skating rink in town. Even though it was just the seven of them, her parents had rented out the whole rink so they could have 'the most possible amount of fun that involves knife-shoes and frozen water'. Her mother had hit her father playfully for saying it, but Gert still laughed.

She misses her parents, sometimes, even if she doesn't want to.

The seven of them skated around, racing and playing an admittedly pretty dangerous form of tag. They only stopped and pulled off their skates when they were told the pizza had shown up. Looking back, Gert thinks they probably would have stayed all day if they were allowed.

After they'd eaten, the plan was to head home, but Amy practically begged her to open her gift there instead of at home, so the party went on a little longer. Amy always got what she wanted, when they were young.

She'd opened Amy and Nico's gift first, since Amy had been so excited. It was a big purple teddy bear, and Gert had loved it so much.

The only other thing she really remembers from that day is Chase giving her his gift. It wasn't very big, and it had been wrapped oh-so carefully in hunter green sparkly paper. He'd looked so nervous, his smile a little shaky. Later, she'd overheard Mrs. Stein laughing with her parents over how much he'd cared about that present, and something else, too, but their words are lost to time.

She remembers being careful with the wrapping, sliding her messily painted fingernails under the tape and opening it with pinched fingers instead of ripping it with the lack of finesse she'd used with every other gift. She'd wanted to keep the wrapping, and she's pretty sure she did. It's probably still pinned to her corkboard in her room back at the house.

The book, Ella Enchanted, is probably the one thing she can read any time, any where. It's one of the only books she doesn't have to be in the mood to read, and she commends 11 year old Chase for knowing her so well, even then, when they were young enough that their tastes weren't completely developed.

She reads for an hour or two, then goes back out to the common room so no one thinks she's avoiding them. With a group as small as theirs, sensitivity is a little bit rampant. One time she was talking to Alex and had apparently taken A Tone so he didn't speak to her directly for twenty four hours.

It's weird having part of the group incapacitated, because it means that they can't do anything until Chase is back on his feet, no plans, no leaving the Hostel. They laze around a bit more, until Molly gets started on lunch, canned soup that she somehow makes taste way better than if anyone else had made it.

She pours out a bowl of soup to bring to Chase, because he needs to eat, and Gert is not going to be the one to let him starve. And she just wants to see him.

Gert cracks open the door, trying to stop it from creaking. She makes sure to step softly, and places the bowl on the side table as she sits on the edge of his bed.

"Chase," Gert says, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Chase, it's time to get up, okay?" She shakes him a little.

His eyes, still closed, scrunch up, and he groans. Looks like someone's up.

His eyes flutter open hitting her with that sickeningly attractive hazel colour. He yawns and attempts to sit up, except he's apparently forgotten the painful injuries he acquired yesterday, so he winces, hard, but he manages when she helps him sit up, a hand on his back and the other still on his shoulder.

".....Thanks, Gert."

"Hey, no problem, just don't do something that warrants this," she waves her hands around, basically gesturing to his whole body, "again and we're good, okay?" She's trying for a joking tone, but her voice comes out almost achingly fond.

"I....Yeah, definitely. Definitely." he nods, then presses his good hand to his forehead when it turns out to be painful.

"Gert, why am I awake right now? This is like, stupid painful."

"Because humans need food to survive," she says, handing him the bowl, "and as annoying as you can be sometimes, I'm not going to be the one to let you starve."

"Oh, so I'm annoying, huh? Am I? Am I annoying?" he says, poking her side lightly. She giggles, scrunching in on herself.

"Stop, stop, holy hell."

"You're still the only person I've ever met under 65 who says that."

She sticks her tongue out at him.

She's always really liked talking with Chase. It's always felt like they were on the same wavelength, even before. It seems like, with them, there's never an empty space, never an awkward silence. She's never really had that before, not even with her family. There are some things she's just never wanted to talk to them about, especially since she's not even speaking to her mother and father right now. And Molly, no matter how mature she's grown to be, is still 14. And Gert knows that talking to her about what she thinks about all the damn time- what if they get caught, what if their parents never face repercussions, what if they don't survive this- would just worry Molly out of her mind. She can talk to Chase about practically anything, though.

Well, almost anything. There's that thing involving him, her, and whole lot of emotions she hates dealing with. But she rarely talks to anyone about that, so.

"Hey, what's that?" Chase says after finishing the last sip of his soup. She's never understood why he doesn't just use a fucking spoon like a normal person, but whatever. He places the bowl on the cheap tables they use for nightstands, then reaches out and grabs the book she'd dropped into the frankly huge pocket of her borrowed shirt.

"Oh, it's-"

"Ella Enchanted. How do you still have this? It's like, half a decade old."

"yeah, but I've always liked it. I'm kind of sentimental, I guess." She doesn't know why she says it like she's admitting a secret.

Chase looks down at the book with fond eyes, the kind of look she sees him give her when he thinks she doesn't notice. It sort of drives her a little bit crazy, sometimes. His eyes goes soft, and he gets little lines at the corners of them. He's totally going to get crows feet when they get older. He smoothes his hand over the worn cover, fingers the edge, and Gert wonders what he's thinking.

"Hey," he says hesitantly, "do you think.....do you think you could read some of this for me?"

She feels her eyebrows go up in surprise. Huh.

"Well, um,"

"Sorry, that was stupid of me, I don't know why I even-"

"No, it's okay, I'll totally do it, yeah, sure. Just.........pass me the book."

He hands it to her. He still looks as if he thinks he's going to get reprimanded for something.

She cracks open the book and thumbs to the first page, and she's about to start reading when Chase stops her.

"Um. You could sit up here. If you want, I mean." She does want. Gert is glad he asked because sitting on the edge of his bed was getting kind of uncomfortable, and also........other reasons. Like how being next to him makes her feel safe, and warm, and right. But of course she's not going to say that.

She gets up and plops down next to him. "Thanks, Chase," she says, and gives him a smile that probably came out fonder than it should've.

She cracks open the book again, and starts reading.

"That fool of a fairy Lucinda did not intend to lay a curse on me. She meant to bestow a gift. When I cried inconsolably through my first hour of life, my tears were her inspiration. Shaking her head sympathetically at Mother, the fairy touched my nose. 'My gift is obedience. Ella will always be obedient. Now stop crying, child.'............"

She reads and reads, though she's not sure Chase is fully paying attention, from the way his eyes are closed and how he's slid back down so his head is rested against the pillow, but he's got a little smile that means he's still at least half awake, so she's not too worried.

"He did laugh, and then he made an announcement." she reads, "I like you. I'm quite taken with you."

~~~~~

Chase loves how she does the voices. How each character has a perfectly curated accent, and how her voice stays soft even though she's putting so much storytelling into the words. He's always thought that there's a difference between reading out loud and storytelling, and Gert has it down. He loves her voice in general, actually. The way she speaks has always seemed so original to him, like dozens of people could be talking in a crowded room and he'd be able to find Gert by ear alone.

The way he feels is getting out of hand, even for him. He really should just tell her.

But not yet.

~~~~~

His eyes are fully shut now, and she's pretty sure he's asleep. She puts the book back in her pocket and gets up, heading for the door.

"Hey, Gert?"

She turns back to look at him. "Yeah?"

"Is that my shirt?"

"Uh, yeah, it is, I think." It's so fake of her to say that, because she doesn't know for sure, and it might actually be Alex's, and she shouldn't lie. But to be honest, she really just wants to see if that makes him smile because she likes him, okay? She likes him. There. She's tired of referring to her feelings as an 'it'. She's tired of tiptoeing around it even in her own head. It's stupid, and gets her nowhere.

Chase does smile, and even with his eyes closed its blinding.

~~~~~

It's a few days later, and Chase is finally back on his feet again. He's so glad he can get out of bed again. Lying down for so long kind of felt like whenever he'd get a cold and a stuffed up nose to match and automatically lament every day he'd never appreciated being able to breath properly. Standing up had felt sooooooo good.

Not being stuck in bed anymore is great, but he does feel like he's going to miss hanging out exclusively with Gert so often. He says 'so often' as if he'd been laid up for weeks, which he hadn't, but it certainly felt that way. And it's not like they had deep, philosophical conversations or anything. She just........read to him.

But it was so nice. And he feels like they bonded, somehow. Like in between the pages and letters of a children's novel they'd grown, inexplicably, closer. He feels like, maybe, just maybe, he might have a chance.

They still haven't finished the book, though. And damn if he's not invested in the cursed plucky heroine and her princely love interest.

He's pacing, slowly, but still pacing, in the TV room while some movie plays in the background. He doesn't want to sit down, and Old Lace is matching him step for step, which Chase secretly finds kind of adorable. Once you get past the whole 'terrifying dinosaur' thing, Old Lace is just a big, scaly, puppy dog.

"Hey, enjoying hanging out with my dinosaur?" Gert says, just appearing out of nowhere like she knew he was thinking about her. She's leans against the door with a lazy smirk, and Chase feels like he might be melting into a pile of sappy goop.

He knows he's probably doing The Eyes right now, but he doesn't really care that much. The Eyes is what Karolina had labelled what she called his 'pining look' once they'd become friends again and he gave her permission to make fun of him for having a crush on The Biggest Lesbian at Atlas.

"Yeah, actually. Are you sure there isn't more room for a second guardian on those adoption papers?"

"The adoption papers that I totally have after stealing an illegal dinosaur from my murderer parents? Sure, Chase."

They smile at each other, in that warm, comfortable way that Chase has never had with anybody before her.

And then Molly bursts in, and he's not going to say she ruined it, because he likes Molly, he does.

But she kind of ruined it.

"hi guys, we're going to play a board game in the common room, we need your help choosing which one to play, come on, come on, come on!" she says all this lightning fast, then runs out of the room.

~~~~~

"ALEEEEEEX!" Gert yells as she stomps into the common room, Chase close on her heels.

"..............Yes?" Alex says meekly, because he knows what he's Done, and knows he's going to Pay.

"What, pray tell, possessed you," she pauses and walks over to her sister, clapping her hands over Molly's ears, "to give my 14 year old sister a fucking boatload of sugar after being on withdrawal for three months and having a lack of defense against the effects due to our parents nutritional choices?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't kn-"

"Bullshit. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. And you know how I know this is bullshit? Because this happened six weeks ago, and you were the one who gave her the damn Three Musketeers. So, what you are going to do, is play crazy eights with her for the next hour until she calms down, okay?"

"O-okay."

She takes her hands off Molly's ears and pushes the cards into her sugar crazed sister's hand. Molly then grabs Alex by the arm and drags him (presumably) to the TV room to start up a game.

"Where did he even get candy to give her?" She mutters to Chase as she turns back around to the rest of them. Karolina and Nico are giggling at Chase from the couch. Chase, though, hasn't moved.

He's staring at her, blinking like he can't believe what he's seeing. He's biting his lip, and his cheeks are red as strawberries.

"Looks like someone's hot and bothered," Karolina says.

"Ummm, I just remembered, I've got something to go and um, do. Bye!" His voice cracks on the last word, and he leaves as quickly as possible.

She turns to Karolina and Nico, and says, "Okay, what was that?"

"That was the boy you like getting flustered because you were being all succinct and domineering. It was hot, and he was into it." Nico says.

"You really think so?" She whispers. This is so stupid. She's literally never like this, sappy over a boy like a badly written self-hating schoolgirl in a teen movie. But.........she trusts her friends enough to be around them like this. That's always been a problem for her, taking down enough walls so people can see her for what she is, which, for all her maturity, is still just a teenage girl.

Karolina pats the seat between herself and Nico, so Gert sits down. Karolina puts a hand on her shoulder, and Gert turns to look at her.

"Do you remember when you were all up in my business about my sexuality? And didn't see one clue of me clearly not wanting to talk about it?"

"Hey, I apologized for that. Profusely."

"You did, you did. But my point is, right now? You're being just as oblivious."

"Am not."

"Are to."

"Am not."

"Are to."

"Guys!"

The three of them burst out laughing.

"Okay, but if we can agree on anything," Nico says, "It's that Gert is totally going to wear the pants in that relationship."

"Uh, excuse you, that is so false. A healthy relationship shouldn't involve either party being in charge, that's not how it works. Therefore, neither of us would wear the pants."

"In more ways than one, huh?" Nico says.

"Shut up!"

~~~~~

He really should talk to her, but he's just so embarrassed.

Chase doesn't even know if she feels the same way, and he doesn't want to assume, but he royally embarrassed himself and he doesn't know if that counts as a confession.

So he's kind of been avoiding Gert. Not outright, but........he's been trying his best not to be alone with her.

Right now though, he's in the common room looking for that copy of Ella Enchanted. He's got to know how it ends. He's always been like this with books, finishing them way too fast because the story is so intoxicating. And yeah, he's never been a big reader, but when he did read the book was finished in a day- maybe two if it was long. Gert used to make fun of him for it.

"What are you looking for?" Speak of the devil.

"Um....." he stalls, pulling his hand out from between the couch cushions. "I'm looking for the book we were reading. I kind of......want to know the ending."

"Oh, so you were listening." Gert leans against the door, looking a bit like she's thinking, ha! I caught you!".

"Of course I was listening." it comes out sincere, maybe a little too intense. Whoops.

".......Oh," she says. Her cheeks go a little red. "Well it's right here." She pulls the book out of her shirt (his shirt) pocket. He can't believe she's wearing it again, does she know she's killing him?

He takes it, sits down on the couch. It kind of feels a bit wrong to read it himself, Gert had been reading it to him and he got used to it.

"I could read it to you, again. If you wanted."

~~~~~

Okay, this is her chance. They're alone, and he's talking to her.

"Yeah, that'd be nice, actually."

She sits next to, and with purpose, takes the book from his hands. She's sitting closer than she needs to, just for the sake of it.

"'Lass,' Char said to me. 'I won't hurt you, no matter what.' He cupped his hand under my chin and tilted my face to his. I wanted to catch his hand and kiss it. As soon as we touched, I knew he recognized me. He brought my slipper out from his cloak. 'It belonged to Ella, and will fit her alone, whether she is a scullery maid or a duchess.' A chair was brought . I wished for normal sized feet. 'That's my slipper,' Hattie said. 'It's been missing for years.' 'Your feet are too big.' Olive blurted. 'Try it,' Char told Hattie. 'I lost it because it kept falling off.' She sat and removed her own slipper. I caught the familiar smell of her . She couldn't wedge her toes in. 'I'm younger than Hattie,' Olive said. 'So my feet are smaller. Probably.' They were bigger." she has to pause as Chase laughs. It's one of her favourite sounds, his laugh. Gert can't bring herself to shush him, so she waits him out and starts up again.

"Now it was my turn. Char knelt, holding the slipper. I extended and he guided it. The slipper fit perfectly, of course. What was I going to do? His face was close to mine. He must have seen my terror. 'You needn't be Ella if you don't want to be,' he said softly. He was so good. 'I'm not,' I said. But in spite of myself, tears streaked down my cheeks. I saw hope spread d across his face. 'That letter was rubbish. A trick.' he glared at Hattie, then turned to me, his look probing."

"'Do you love me?' He spoke softly. 'Tell me.'" Chase was gazing intensely at her face, and she wonders if he's like, alright.

"Chase? Are you okay?" She catches his eye, nd he seems to make some sort of decision.

He leans in, but stops before he kisses her. Because that's obviously what he's going to do, kiss her. He's got that look on his face, hesitance and excitement and something else she can't place all rolled into one.

She meets him halfway.

It is, objectively, the best kiss she's ever experienced. Slow and soft, because they both know they're not going anywhere. Gert has one hand pressed against his cheek, and the other twisted into his shirt.

~~~~~

He doesn't know where to put his hands, so he just places them on her waist. Gert throws her legs over his, just to get closer. It's so good. Gert is a fantastic kisser, transcending realms, galaxies, everything. And Jesus, that is so sappy. But he's pretty much making out with the prettiest, coolest girl he knows, so he's allowed to be a bit of a sap.

~~~~~

She's practically on his lap now, and kissing him is so, so good. But she needs to ask him something, so she pulls back with a pop!

His lips are red and kind of swollen, and his pupils are so big she can only see a small ring of hazel when she makes eye contact. It's very attractive.

"Okay, okay," she says. "I need to make sure this like, means something to you, or whatever, because I'm so tired of this will they won't they bullshit, so. This mean we're together, right?" He's already nodding, so she puts both of his hands on his face and kisses him again.

~~~~~

Chase loves Gert's hands. They're soft, and warm, and a little calloused. He especially loves how her hands frame his face as she kisses him, like he's something special, something that needs to be protected. Chase has never been kissed like this, sweet and loving and slow, but he finds that he likes it.

#gertchase #gert yorkes #chase stein #karolina dean #alex wilder #nico minoru #molly hernandez #runaways #marvels runaways #mine

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airbnbfestivals · 8 years ago

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Host wants $363 from me!

Unbelievable. I stayed at a place in Berlin for about a week. It was the type of stay where the person lived there. It was a girl's place and her boyfriend was managing the listing. Right away when I had to show up an hour late he started being like "She cancelled her Job today so please be very kind to her when you arrive cause the Situation is very bad for her...".Anyway- I stayed there. I enjoyed the stay. Except the first night I was there, the first day I ordered delivery. I noticed that there was no place for me to eat anywhere in the apartment. So I had to sit on the bed, pull over the nightdresser and use it as a table. With my first bite, the spaghetti splattered in all directions. Now this was not very much, but I did notice that it went on the comforter. And when I finished eating I noticed it went through the thin sheets onto the mattress. Though - this is important I did notice many other stains on the mattress.I should have said something, but I figured this is part of having an Airbnb and the comforter would be able to wash away.During my stay someone knocked on the door at 8:30am in the morning a plumber and his kid came to fix a water leak that was draining to the flat below. When they made me aware of it I was unable to use the sink in the kitchen.After I left the listing, he messages me on WhatsApp saying "John can you please leave us some positive feedback." I said sure, and even left off the fact that I was woken up in the morning and that the sink did not work.And I could not believe it- he left me a negative review saying I had left "dirty rotten things in the sink". Literally there were about 4 forks and 2 spoons in there that was it and only bc I was unable to wash them. He said I had damaged the floor lamp? what? I don't even believe that bc if it is the one I am thinking of I had been using that the whole time definitely no issues. He also mentioned that i had left urine in the toillet and i am 99% confident that was false because I literally flushed it before i left.And then today I get a request for 363 freakin dollars! I think this is a case where they think I have a lot of money and they are trying to take advantage of me by asking me to purchase them nearly an entirely new apartment. (As I arrived at the apartment for some reason they explained to me that she could not afford the apartment without the money made from Airbnb and also mentioned how they could not afford a locksmith to unlock the door that they had been locked out of)This is their reasoning:"The mattress was 2,5 year old and very expensive, it cost more than 250 Euro the floor lamp I bought already new for around 10 Euros on the blanked and the bed cover is a stain after washing it. For the blanked i will need 40 Euro to buy a new one and the cover costs around 30 Euro Please let me know how we can find a solution! Greetings"I have used Airbnb about 20 times and before this I have only received positive feedback. The other time I have gotten in a disagreement about a listing Airbnb sided with the host 100% and I had to pay over $1000 for a listing that I felt was unclear. What am I even paying for with Airbnb?!!This is ridiculous. What I don't understand is that they should have had a mattress cover!!! Seriously? Even people who don't run an Airbnb have a mattress cover. Especially if there was no other place to sit and eat in the entire apartment!Any ideas? I hate this freakin shit. Plus i thought they had 48 hours to start something like this and it has been past that.

#peer to peer #homestay #lodging #airbnb #property owner #gratitude

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sapphic-romeo · 6 years ago

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I am soooooo mad at my sister rn (again) so im just gonna rant under a cut

Things about living with my sister that piss me off:

1. She relies on me for EVERYTHING. We don’t have sponges or dish soap right now because I ALWAYS get them, but I asked her to this time and she said she would... three weeks ago. It’s from the dollar store two blocks from our house, so I’m not asking her to go a long way away, or to spend a lot of money... it should be so simple. And this is the third time something like this has happened, the first being...

2. The Toilet Incident. This is a whole item of its own because it was so disgusting and unequivocally her fault. She has her own half-bathroom that she says “doesn’t exist as far as I’m concerned.” She says this because I told her she can’t trash “my” bathroom as it’s the only one I’ve got. (Side note, that doesn’t matter when she has guests coming over and i have to clean her clothes out of my bathroom). Anyway, she clogged up the shared toilet with literal, actual shit. I was the first to find out it was clogged and it overflowed a little, and I had to use my personal bath towel to mop it up. I told her to deal with it, to go to the dollar store that is, again, 2 blocks away, and get a plunger, and she just. Didn’t. For a week and a half I was waiting to pee until I left for class or sneaking past her and her boyfriend while they slept so I could use her bathroom. Er, sorry, I meant the void I can’t look directly at because it doesn’t exist to me. Either way, I peed in it.

That’s not even the end of it. I left an angry note on the toilet for her to ��GET A FUCKING PLUNGER” that she just threw away, and finally I told her “Today. It has to be today.” I had a few ideas of what the implied “or else” would entail, some involving poison ivy in her underwear drawer, or throwing her clothes behind our apartment, and frankly I almost did it anyway. Because she agreed to go get a plunger that same day. And then immediately invited her friends over to hang out. I don’t know about you, but unless they’re my best friend and they’re going to cheer me on while I hang up clothes, I don’t invite people over so I can run errands and do chores. That’s when I knew she was ignoring me. Again. So, despite it not being my literal, actual shit encrusting the main toilet, I went and got a plunger. I was still determined not to be the one to actually do it, because it was disgusting and you have to draw the line somewhere, but I just wanted it done at this point. So to make it even easier, I got my sister a pair of dish gloves, because I knew I’d want them. Even after all this literal and figurative shit, I was still trying to be nice.

So I bring the gear back to our place and I tell her that I got it, so whenever she’s ready to deal with it... She says “Oh. Thanks.” and goes back to talking with her friends. I putz around for a few more minutes, but now I have to pee. And I’m on the edge of going crazy. If she doesn’t deal with this problem right. Fucking. now, I’m gonna lose my entire mind. So, I get the plunger and put it in her hand. Literally place the damn thing in her awful, grubby, disrespectful, irresponsible fingers. She doesnt move. I have to beg her to go deal with it, in front of her friends (I’m sure she would’ve ignored me if they weren’t there), before she finally got up and made the toilet usable again. And you know what? She didn’t even scrub it. I did that. It was disgusting.

3. Money. This one is equal parts paranoia and justification for that paranoia. So we don’t have a lot of groceries in the house. The last time we did a big shopping trip was maybe a month ago. I picked up the tab for that, about $50. We got a lot of unnecessary stuff, mostly at her behest, but enough that I could make a few meals and we were both satisfied. She says she’ll pay me back over venmo, I say sure. On the way back we stop for gas, and this bitch. Oh, this bitch. She has not yet paid me back for the groceries, and at the gas station she starts trying to convince me to pay for the gas, because “You don’t fill up the tank ever because you don’t drive [our shared car] as much.” Yeah, no shit I don’t pay $25 to fill up the tank when I only use $5 of gas. I put in $5 of gas whenever I drive somewhere (I’m aquaintances with this one guy at this one gas station, I get a coffee and a few bucks of gas, it’s a good time). I tell her, “I just dropped $50 on groceries, you pick up the $25 gas and we’ll call it even,” even though that’s pretty forgiving on my part. She paid for gas, but even then she was huffy about it.

Small thing, she keeps borrowing quarters for laundry and then doesn’t pay me back.

She also keeps forgetting that I pay $50/mo for wifi, and says I owe her half the utilities, but doesn’t split the cost of wifi. Example: the gas bill last month was $84 total. She tells me I owe her $42, half, right? So I pay $42. Then I tell her she owes me $25 for the wifi, half, right? and she tells me “Well the electric was $25 total so how about I just put it towards that and you don’t have to pay any of it?” Um... what? The electric bill would only cost me $12.50 after splitting... where’s my other $12.50? I’ve learned my lesson at this point; we each cover the first $50 of utilities and split the rest, so she says “This month was $84, that’s $42 each,” and I say “No, we split $34, that’s $17 each.” It works out okay as long as I don’t let her get ahold of the money in the first place.

Now, this is where the paranoia comes in. I’m not sure she’s actually paying the bills with the money I give her. My (now ex) boyfriend lived with us for a few months, and when he moved out he gave her a chunk of cash that was more than enough to cover the last utility bills that would come along after he moved out. Then we go to dinner with our third sister, and she says “oh yeah, I can’t wait for my paycheck so I can finally pay the bills.” I look at her, and I’m like “Didn’t [REDACTED] give you the money to pay the bills like, 2 weeks ago?”

Both sisters ended up turning on me and thinking I’m dumb because “it doesn’t have to be the exact same money that he gave her, duh.” I mean, not technically, but when someone gives you money for something and you use it for something else, that’s kinda shady, even though she was going to pay the bills with her next paycheck. That’s something that absolutely happened, and I feel like that’s a precedent.

Now, I keep finding utility bills that are from at least a few weeks prior that say past due and are for way more than she told me (one from Feb 22nd said our account balance is around $150). I’ve seen the month to month statements, and she always brushes off my concerns, but I’m worried that she’s not paying our bills on time and trying to cover up the late notices. That might just be paranoia, but the whole thing is very confusing to me and it feels like she’s lying to me. She might just be paying them late within the month, and nothing has been shut off yet, but I worry.

3. Laundry. So, this one is a little bit on me, and the second story is about what set off this rant today.

First incident, she poked her head in my room one morning, I’d just woken up, and she said “I’ll pay you ten bucks to do my laundry and reimburse you for the quarters.” Good deal, right? I just have to keep an eye on the machines, it’ll take 3 hours, tops. I agree, and I get her stuff done, and then I get a text that just says “fold them.” Now, in my mind, running the machines and folding the clothes are two separate jobs. So I tell her “No, that wasn’t part of the deal.” We go back and forth, I don’t end up folding them, and she says she’s only gonna pay me $4 for running the machines, plus the quarters. I was pissed about that, because we had a deal and she shouldn’t get to just change the rules on me like that, but it turns out some of the clothes in the basket are still damp... whoops. Now the $4 (plus the $6 in quarters) seems generous. I didn’t know they were damp and I do feel bad about giving her a hard time for the fee when it was subpar work, but we move on. 3 weeks later she finally sends me the money (also 3 weeks? seriously?? I needed those quarters to do my own laundry.)

AND HERE WE ARE. A few days ago I took my laundry over to my dad’s house because I once again am out of quarters (I also couldn’t find my debit card to go get them, but that’s beside the point). I have about 2 hours before I have to go to work, and we have 2 loads of laundry to do, one with just my (top priority) clothes, and one with both of our bedding. My dad’s dryer takes longer than I thought, so I take most of the wet clothes out and just do my work clothes plus a few others. My sister says she’ll make sure that the rest of my clothes get done and she’ll bring them back the next day. My dad lives about 45 min away from us, so the next time she’s going to be near there I ask to come with... only I have work again and have to be back early. She doesn’t want to go home early, so she says she’ll get my clothes and bring them back.

We miss connections for a couple days, she’s at work or I am, she’s in class or I am, but my clothes are in the car and I can’t get to them. Yesterday I wore a pair of leggings as underwear. It was unpleasant. Finally, today, we’re in the same place at the same time, and I go down to eh car to get my desperately needed clothes. Only guess what basket she brought back, after telling me over and over that yes she had my clothes specifically. If you guessed the fucking bedding, you’d be correct. As grateful as I am to no longer be sleeping on a bare mattress, she only prioritized the load that included her things. Maybe I’m overreacting, but It feels like a massive slap to the face. It feels like she’s being selfish, and unreliable, and I am so tired of trusting her to do anything. I’m tired of trusting her being necessary. So today, as I go to a family party with no underwear on, I’m just going to fume and reconsider the poison ivy.

#long post #big sis #rant #ignore me

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