#possibly a stupid question but I need things explained to me fully oops
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aspecbuddie · 1 year ago
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where are people getting their 911 screencaps nowadays?
(and what is the expected etiquette re: crediting the place you get them?)
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ev-pierce-writes · 3 years ago
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Doll
Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x F!Reader
Words: 7.7K
Rating: Very much 18+
Warnings: P in V, oral (fem receiving), light (consensual) choking, praise, James Buchanan Barnes is a sad boy and only you can make him happy, mutual therapy over past trauma, a couple light spanks, and some sexy sparring
Note: Reader had a run-in with Hydra that gave you invisibility powers. Bucky is tasked with training you. Totally not canon, I just kept the parts I liked. Got the idea from a tiktok but I can't find it anymore oops. I'm thinking of turning it into a series of all the places you can fuck Bucky Barnes at Avengers HQ. Enjoyyyyyy....
---
"Alright, so I'm thinking absolutely the first thing you need is a suit. Because we can't have you sneaking around in clothes that give you away."
Tony Stark and Peter Parker stand before you at Avengers HQ, furiously tossing ideas back and forth, trying to come up with ways to build you the best possible suit. Last night had been...interesting, to say the least.
"Who's that?" Stark had said when you appeared all of a sudden from your room. "Come on Agent Hill, don't tell me you're taking in lost kids nowadays."
Your mother had only laughed, slightly inebriated and feeling loose because of all the drinking that was going on in your penthouse apartment. She was hosting one of those parties where too many superpowers drank too much alcohol and got a little too rowdy. "That's my daughter."
Usually, you stay away from such events, go out with friends, and avoid the house until it's all over. For the past four years, you hadn't even been in the house to need to avoid it. But now you're 22 and a recent college graduate and something about the party was drawing you in so you had emerged from your hideaway to join in the fun.
"Alright, Maria, how'd you manage to keep that one a secret?" Romanov spoke up.
Until this point, you'd remained silent, in shock at the sudden attention a group of superheroes had focused onto you. But you couldn't help yourself from responding now. You'd managed to hide away long enough. It was time to come into the open.
"I'm a ghost," you said jokingly, approaching the couch and stealing the drink your mother had been drinking to take a sip. It was strong and burned on the way down. The group laughed at your words, unaware of how true they really were.
It was then that you'd performed your little trick, the one that only a few of your closest friends had ever seen. You became invisible.
The laughter had immediately stopped. The girl who suddenly appeared out of thin air had disappeared right back into it. They could still tell where you were of course. The glass in your hand remained visible, floating in mid-air, giving away your position. And your clothes were still perceptible, not being able to change with you. But your features were otherwise undetectable, not even a shimmer revealing your face. You took another sip of the drink, liquid disappearing into an invisible mouth.
"I want her. On the team," Stark had said.
And that was it. The start of your superhero career.
"Explain again exactly how this works?" Parker asks.
You sigh and start from the beginning, again. "I can distort the absorption wavelengths of my cells so that the reflected light is in the invisible range, usually infrared."
"And how long can you hold it for?"
"About seven minutes now," you explain. "It's sort of like holding your breath. You can go underwater for a while, and you can practice holding your breath longer and longer, but eventually, you need to come up for air. Eventually, I have to 'recharge.' But I've been working on extending it."
Stark turns to one of the many holograms of his supercomputer, working with Friday to design a brand new suit to accommodate your skills. You're so engrossed in watching his process you don't even notice the shadowy figure appear in the doorway that leads to the training facilities.
"How'd you get these powers? Agent Hill isn't lacking in skill but it certainly isn't supernatural."
You knew Stark's question would come up eventually. It always did. Over time, it became easier to tell the story, but now you really don't feel like explaining fully, so you tell the short version.
"Hydra. When I was seventeen. They used me as a bargaining chip against my mom in a mission gone wrong and decided to experiment on me in the process. Left me with a lot of scars and a lot of therapy. Almost dropped out of school."
You don't remember much from the experience. But enough for it to leave lasting damage.
"Hydra?" a familiar voice asks behind you. Only now do you notice that Barnes is behind you. How long has he been watching?
You remain silent, just like you did the night before when he'd arrived late to the party, unable to speak under his gaze.
You had planned to leave not long after you joined the festivities. But when the elevator doors opened, a pair of blue eyes halted you in your path. James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. You'd recognize those eyes anywhere. Crystal clear and icy, freezing you under their gaze. He wore a leather jacket and leather gloves, concealing his metal arm, but you knew it was there, hiding behind the layers.
Barnes had always been the one that caught your eye during your mother's briefings. His transition from the greatest warrior Hydra had to offer, and thus S.H.I.E.L.D.'s greatest enemy, to the trusted companion of Captain America and official Avengers member intrigued you. At first, he had been more of a schoolgirl crush, the little girl grappling with her new powers seeking guidance in someone who didn't even know she existed. But age had not reduced your admiration of him. Barnes' face was hard set in serious determination and his glance barely grazed over you before turning to the rest of the group. He paid you not a single ounce of attention, yet you felt dumbstruck in his presence.
But Bucky had noticed you that night. Noticed you in a way he wanted desperately to hide, so he disallowed his eyes from lingering on you. Who were you and why were you wearing pajamas at a party and how did you make them actually look good?
And not only did he notice you, but he recognized you. He wasn't sure how, but something at the back of his head buried beneath decades of blurred half-memories told him he knew you. It was a stupid thought, though. How could he know you?
From the doorway, his eyes narrow in concern, making you feel smaller than ever beneath him. How is that 5 o'clock shadow so enticing? You just want to run your fingers across--
Stark gestures at Barnes, completely ignoring his comment. "Good, you're here. Our young Agent Hill needs to get started with her training immediately. I want her in the field but she can't be going in inexperienced. Teach her the works."
It's rather bold of Stark to assume you have no combat skills. And to assume you even want to go into the field. But you follow behind Barnes in silence anyway toward the training facilities. It doesn't matter what you know and don't know. He's going to kick your ass anyway.
"Feet wider," he says, coaching you on your swing. His blue eyes have somehow darkened, and along with the faint beard, he looks positively dangerous. "Not too wide."
"I know how to punch, Barnes," you whisper under your breath. He's not meant to hear your words, but he does anyway.
"Oh yeah? Punch me then. Go for it." His voice is challenging in the way that reveals he knows he could block any swing that comes at him. But he wants to see what will happen. Your mention of Hydra loosened a memory in his brain somewhere, and though he can't quite place his finger on it, the memory told him you're anything but the kid he's treating you like. He wants to know what you really have inside you.
Your annoyance gets the best of you. You aim for his face, the way your mother taught you. And she taught you well, teaching you all the self-defense skills you might need moving through the world as a woman. But she did not teach you how to fight super soldiers. That's an entirely different world.
Unsurprisingly, Barnes predicts your move and his metal arm comes up to meet your human one, halting your punch mid-swing. His palm fully engulfs your fist, your knuckles slamming into the metal with a ringing sound.
"Fuck, that hurt," you seethe through your teeth, gripping your hand in pain. And yet, you still smile. You mean for your words to sound irritated, but they betray how much you enjoy getting a swing in. "Didn't have to do me like that, Barnes."
He ignores your pain, though secretly it pleases him to find how much force is truly behind your punch. Nothing, of course, his metal arm can't take, but strong enough. "Language, kid. Go again. And this time, try not to be so obvious."
Despite his advice, it's impossible. He predicts every one of your strikes and counters them with four times as much strength as you possess. You give him everything you have, and nothing lands.
"This would be a lot easier if you let me use my powers."
So far, Barnes has refused to let you fight invisible, not that it would have done you much good without a proper suit. But you're tired and sweaty, your hair falling from its ponytail and sticking to your face, your muscles aching and your heart beating fast. Barnes hasn't even broken a sweat.
"Unless you learn to fight without your powers, they'll do nothing more than level the playing field. You need to be at an advantage if you're going to survive."
Survive. You've done plenty of that already. You want better than survival. Barnes recognizes the look on your face, the one that expresses the desire plainly. He knows the feeling, drifting from one day to the next and wanting more than that.
His voice softens a bit. "We can call it quits for the day. Get some rest. We'll go again tomorrow."
He didn't intend to be so kind. It just sort of happened, drawn out of him by the not-so-innocent girl who still has a lot to learn but can hold her own better than most.
---
Tomorrow. Tomorrow's8 like the day before, 9 am at HQ, wait for Parker to get his ass up the elevator so Stark can begin, get sidetracked by coffee, and then finally return to the task at hand.
"Give this a shot," Stark says, handing you what looks like nothing more than a vaguely human-shaped paper suit. "Not exactly protective, but it's a new technology. Should conform to your abilities."
"You did this overnight?"
"Of course. Get changed."
The suit has little support and definitely no protection. You feel like a fingernail could rip a hole through it if you pull on it wrong, let alone a knife coming at you from an angry enemy. But it's a start. An impressive start. You stare at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom as you shift, the suit shifting along with you.
Back in the training facilities, where you know Stark and Parker will be waiting, you remain in your shifted form. They don't look up as you enter, somehow having not heard you, and instead are engaged in a heated discussion with Barnes about something you don't understand. So you creep up behind Parker, lean in, and whisper into his ear.
"I think it works."
You feel a little bad, but only for a moment. Parker jumps straight out of his skin, screaming a scream you didn't know was possible from the kid. Stark lets out a laugh as you rematerialize, and Barnes even cracks a smile at your prank.
"Yeah, yeah, I'd say so." Parker's voice quivers.
"Well, what do you think?" Stark asks.
"Very thin," you say, aware that much more is visible than you really want. "I feel like it's going to rip at any moment. And there's not a whole lot of support in this area."
You gesture vaguely at your chest, not knowing how best to explain to a group of men that a sports bra is a necessity for fighting, but knowing you have to make them aware all the same. You can feel Barnes' eyes on you, a little less polite than the others, and you find you like the way he eyes you up, a bit like a puzzle to be solved or a strategy to be devised.
"Right, right, I'll get on that. Only a prototype anyway," Stark responds nervously. "Back to work, Parker. Hill, Barnes, back to training."
Bucky tries his best not to picture what you might look like without that suit, but it leaves little to the imagination as you saunter away to change again.
And so the days move forward. You've never before been so busy or exhausted in your life. You just graduated college, which is a feat in itself, but all the training, all the work, keeps you on your toes so that by the end of the day, both your brain and your body are tired.
Still, you improve and get better at sparring Barnes, even taking him down a couple of times on your own, though you suspect he's going easy on you.
"Again." Barnes is already on his feet and helping you to yours. Today the sparring room is particularly warm, and you've long forgone your sweats for shorts and a sports bra. Barnes has lost the shirt as well, and his chest glistens with sweat beneath the fluorescent lights. Maybe it's the heat or maybe it's him, but the whole thing feels a bit dreamlike. Here you are, sparring with a man who could take you to the ground with one arm alone, and he's letting you kick his ass every once in a while.
But there's no way you can do it again. You feel destroyed by all the slamming onto the mat.
Barnes is doing his best not to be distracted as well, but those tight shorts and the top that reveals your midriff have to be on purpose. It's easy to admit to himself that he likes you, might even be attracted to you. You fight hard and relentlessly, rising to every one of his challenges and not backing down even when you're tired. You've already come a long way since that first encounter, and Barnes has come to look forward to the two hours a day you spend together in the gym. He had tried to tell himself it was the fun of having a new sparring partner, but in truth, he knows it's the determined glint in your eyes, the way you bounce on your feet in excited anticipation of the fight, the way you collapse on the mat after a hard session, chest heaving deep breaths in and out. But what he likes most is your heated gaze when he pins you to the ground, or even better, you pin him.
"Knock me down one more time and you can be done," he challenges. The familiar determination returns, though a flicker of doubt remains behind your eyes. He can tell you need encouragement. "Remember to use your size to your advantage. Don't let me get ahead of you. Keep me guessing."
You do your best. You really do. You hold your own for almost two minutes, but it's obvious you're only barely staying ahead of him. As soon as you falter, Barnes has you flat on your back on the mat without much resistance, immobilized by a knee on your thighs and his metal arm trapping your hands over your head. His free hand plants by your head and holds him up to prevent him from actually hurting you.
You gasp underneath him, trying to disguise the weird flicker of desire with breathlessness. He looks good from down here, all sweaty and dark and serious. But you're also a bit too tired to care. "I'm out, Barnes. Let me go."
Let me go. Please.
And that's when the memory returns. The full, real memory, the one that has been tickling the edges of his brain since he first saw you. You, a kid, his mission. Kidnap, don't kill. A small voice, your voice, begging. Please, let me go. What has he done?
"Fuck," he curses under his breath, standing up quickly.
"Language, Barnes," you say teasingly. But he doesn't laugh, simply exits the sparring room, abruptly leaving you, speechless and alone on the floor. What just happened?
After a moment of confused silence on the mat, you brush it off and stand, heading to your room for a shower. Stark offered you a place to stay at HQ, and you happily agreed. Though you loved being back with your mother after four years away at college, you cherish your independence. A room at HQ offered you just that.
A nice shower would certainly make you feel better after that confusing interaction. You pull on your robe and shower shoes, leaving your clothes behind so as to carry one less thing. But as you pass down the hall toward the showers, you can hear Barnes' voice drift through the slightly open door to his room.
"I remembered," he says. "It was her. I'm the reason she's--" He cuts off, appearing to be interrupted by whoever he's talking to on the phone. You pause by the open door.
"I know that's not me anymore but I'm still responsible," he continues. "I have to tell her."
Again a pause. By now it's apparent he's talking about you.
"No, Steve, we aren't a team. We aren't partners. I'm helping Tony out. I don't care if she doesn't want to work with me anymore, this is part of my redemption. I have to tell her."
The conversation seems over. You rush to the showers, not wanting Barnes to realize you were listening the whole time. Apologize, he said. Apologize for what? You've known him for a whole of four days and he's been nothing but polite to you. Cold, at first, but he warms upon acquaintance. And then he's downright sweet.
So sweet, you realize, for someone so damaged. He has every right to hate the world, and though he walks through it with a healthy dose of cynicism, he never lets that cynicism touch you. If anything, he's outright positive around you, an undeserving brat. A kid, really, though you don't like when he calls you that. You know you can be naive, positive on the verge of artificiality, and yet he never tries to burst your bubble. In fact, he seems to relish it.
The shower feels nice, but it does nothing to assuage your fears. Maybe it's you who has done something wrong? Now you're spiraling. You have to find out what's going on or it's going to drive you crazy.
You know what you have to do. You have just about seven minutes of invisibility before your shifting gives out. In those seven minutes, you can duck from the showers, sneak into Barnes' room, snoop around, and make it back to the showers unseen. Plenty of time. But you have to go nude. Now would be a great time for the suit, but no such luck. Naked it is.
Out in the hallway, all is quiet. Barnes' door is still ajar, but when you peek your head in, the room is empty.
Easy.
Where to start? His phone is a dead end, being one of those ancient flipping kinds rather than a new, high-tech smartphone. He has few personal belongings, the bed is made perfectly, and his closet contains only clothes.
The drawers of the nightstand are empty. Or nearly empty. At the back of the top drawer is unceremoniously shoved a small booklet with a pen stuck between the pages. It's worn and supple, as though held a thousand times and read a thousand more. You flip through, finding a list of names, some crossed out, others not. Your name does not appear, but something about the list tells you these are not ordinary names. These are the names of his victims, people Barnes hurt as the Winter Soldier. Your heart aches and your stomach clenches, the reminder of his past jarring against the kind demeanor you've come to know. But deep down, you know this isn't him, know he's a good man, despite it all.
You know better than most the first-hand horrors of Hydra's super-soldier experiments. Of anyone, you can relate best to the experience Barnes has been through. Your memories of that long week are blurry, but the pain remains, forever seared into your mind. You can only imagine a lifetime of that pain.
The sound of the door opening jolts you from your reverie and you close the drawer quickly. But you soon realize your mistake. Barnes would know he left the door open, would know exactly how he placed his book in the drawer, would recognize something was off. Unfortunately, you're right.
"Hello?" he calls into the darkening room. The evening is coming on fast and the sun dims to barely glimmer, casting the space in shadow despite the large windows on the south wall.
Bucky knows something is off the moment he finds your room unoccupied, having gone there with the express purpose of confronting you about his actions earlier in the afternoon. And though he has no way of truly knowing, he suspects you are now here, in this room with him, invisible to his gaze. Bucky shuts the door behind him and waits.
You're trapped. You don't have long before your powers give out; already the suffocating feeling that begs you to take a breath is coming on. And Barnes has closed the door, effectively sealing you in, as you can't open it without him knowing for sure that you're here. On top of that, you're clothingless. You've run out of options and Barnes seems to sense this. So, he waits, drawing out the moment of tension, building the suspense.
"I know you're here," he says finally, his voice soft and barely audible. "You can't hide that well. Next time, dry your feet off before you go leaving wet footprints all over the place."
Oops.
"I--" you begin, and immediately Barnes' eyes snap to where your voice originates from. "I'm sorry. I overheard your conversation with Rogers. I shouldn't have but I know it was about me."
Barnes sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, you're right. I have some things to explain. Though I'd much prefer talking to you if I could see you."
You hesitate. "Only a slight problem there. I'm not wearing any clothes."
If it had been any lighter in the room you would have seen Barnes blush. Instead, you watch him pull his shirt over his head. He hands it to you blindly, the shirt off his own back, soft with wear and long enough to cover the tops of your thighs. It smells of him, salty with sweat and sweet with the scent you've come to recognize only as him. You shrug it on and shift back.
"I'm sorry," you say again, having trouble concentrating with Barnes' bare chest at your eye level. Is that an old bullet wound on his shoulder? The reminder of a knife across his stomach? You can't look away, even at the seam where man meets metal.
Barnes shakes his head. "No, I should be the one apologizing."
He pauses for a moment and tries to begin several times before finally forming a complete sentence.
"It's my fault you're like this, that Hydra tested on you. It was me who kidnapped you, it was me who followed orders, it was me who completed the mission and got you hurt. And I'm so sorry."
You're so frozen in shock that the absurdity of the situation doesn't even register. There's nothing under this shirt, no underwear, no pants, no bra. And here you are standing in the bedroom of your greatest inspiration, listening to him apologize for being the one that facilitated your kidnapping, for being responsible for all the injury, the pain, the nightmares, the isolation, the...
It all comes flooding back, the things you had forgotten, or simply chose to not remember, and one of those things is his face.
You thought you'd dealt with impact. So many hours with a therapist, and you realize all you did was suppress the feelings, not confront them. And then you break, all the anger and sadness and frustration flowing from you at once.
"You piece of shit." Your voice begins as a whisper but soon amplifies nearly to a shout. "You monster, you bastard, how could you? How could you?"
All this time you forgave him for the damage he'd done, excused it as brainwashing and manipulation from Hydra. But now that it's you he's involved, you have somewhere to direct your anger, and you take it out as a shove straight to his chest.
He didn't expect that one. The words he understood. He accepted those, accepted that you would hate him forever. But then you're pushing and hitting him with all your force. Barnes could fight back, could hold his ground. But you need this, so he lets you shove him into the wall with a newfound strength. Finally against the wall, with nowhere left to go, you turn to pummelling his chest with your fists, repeating the words over and over, how could you, how could you, how could you.
For a moment, he lets it happen. But eventually, Barnes reacts, grabbing your wrists and holding them to his chest in an attempt to calm the fury that rages inside you. Surprisingly, at his touch, you still, slumping against him once the anger is replaced with nothing but sadness. That anger, one you never truly realized you'd harbored since your capture, bled from you all at once, leaving you exhausted.
You don't notice you're crying until a soft thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. Barnes releases your hands and wraps his arms around your sobbing body, pulling you close. "I'm so sorry," he repeats in your ear, his words a whisper against the rage inside your head.
Is it hours, or only minutes, standing like that, wrapped up in him, his skin so soft against your cheek? Time has ceased to exist, melting into the nighttime that encompasses the room in near pitch-black darkness. Your breath calms, your heart rate slows, the tears dry. He's only a man, a broken, misplaced, lost man. But he's also impossibly kind to you, caring enough to train you day after day, to pick you up when you fall down, to ensure you're happy here at all times. That's the man you know and rest your cheek against and seek out for comfort in this moment, despite him being the reason for your anger. But he's not truly the reason for your anger, only an easy outlet standing right before you.
This is not how Bucky had expected this to go. Perhaps to never see you again, yes. But to hold you in his arms, certainly not. And not just hold you, but comfort you. It surprises him how much he finds he likes it. And he can't ignore the fact that you're here in his room, wearing his shirt and only his shirt. He doesn't try anything improprietous, just wraps his arms around your waist, but it's not lost on him that your supple chest is pressed against him and the delicious scent from your still wet hair is filling his brain with a flowery cloud. His stomach clenches at the thought of burying his face in that smell for the rest of the night but he pushes it aside. That's not why you're here. That's not what you want.
But your next words surprise him. You pull slightly away, tilting your splotchy face upward towards his to look him in the eye. You take a ragged breath and speak.
"I forgive you."
Bucky is taken aback. That's not why he made this confession, not to seek your forgiveness. "You don't have to do that."
"I know. But I do. And I know you think I'm just a kid--"
Barnes lets out a short laugh, cutting you off immediately. "Jesus Christ, that's not true. You're not a kid. You're smart and strong and capable. And you've seen the ugly world for its true self and choose to remain good and happy all the same. I'm not like that and that makes you wiser than I'll ever be."
He takes a deep breath, unsure if he should admit to the feelings he desperately wants to express to you. The way you're looking at him, with a mixture of hesitation and admiration, makes the words tumble from his mouth without a second thought.
"But somehow being around you makes me want to be good again. Not for my sake, but for yours."
"James, I--" You've never used his first name before, but it falls deliciously from your lips, the sound of it nearly distracting him from the finger you run across the stubble on the cleft of his chin. Nearly. He captures that hand in his own, holding it there against his face.
"You don't have to forgive me. I don't deserve it," he repeats, eyes falling shut to the feeling of your thumb pressed to the corner of his lips. He still holds you close, the other arm wrapping tight around you, and though verbally he rejected the comfort your warmth offered, his body says otherwise, desperate for the acceptance his brain refuses to give into.
"Stop punishing yourself," you whisper. For a moment, he almost feels that he could.
And when your lips find his, soft and delicate, he forgets why you're even here in the first place, forgets his guilt and your anger, forgets even to react.
His lack of response has you pulling away, worried you've done something wrong, but then he's chasing your lips with his own, leaning forward to meet you halfway, gathering you impossibly tighter to his chest. He pauses, mouth mere centimeters from yours, eyes still shut, a deep breath heaving from his chest. He wants more, wants to kiss you again in all the places that count, but he can't quite yet.
"What was that for?" The question's not an accusatory one but simply curious. Have you always looked at him in this light since day one? Has he just not noticed?
"Are you blind, Barnes?"
He laughs and shakes his head. "None of that last name shit, doll, we've moved on to a first-name basis."
But your words are enough to surge him forward, this time capturing your lips in a dominating kiss that leaves you gasping for air. He takes advantage of your open mouth and presses his tongue to yours, seeking to fill his soul with your all-consuming warmth, to wrap it around him like a cocoon of your scent. His fingers slide down your back and slip under the shirt you wear, his shirt, grasping at the bare skin of your ass, filling his hands with your supple flesh.
You moan softly under his touch, relishing in the feeling of being encompassed by someone so large and so strong. The vibranium arm, which you expected to be harshly indelicate against your relative fragility, caresses you with the same gentility of the other. The intense contact sends your heart racing like it did all the times you were pinned below him on the sparring mat. Will he pin you like that in bed? Hold you down while he fucks you within an inch of your life?
The thought rouses a heat between your legs and stirs butterflies in your tummy. You don't even know if that's where this is going, but it invades your brain anyways. You're sure Barnes can feel your racing pulse beneath his lips when he kisses your neck, sending your nerves haywire as he creeps toward the neckline of your shirt. He inhales your scent, the hot air of his breath fanning your cool skin.
Everything about this is sloppy, the wet kisses dragged across your skin, his tongue tangled with yours, your fingers tugging at the hair that brushes the nape of his neck. Even his hips against yours are messy and rough, the heat of him leaving your core feeling slick, the wetness of it rubbing between your naked thighs. And then Barnes is sliding his hands back up your body, this time under your shirt, and tugging it over your head, his lips leaving your skin just long enough to toss the item to the ground.
You expect him to keep surging forward, to lift you in his arms and take you to bed like you want him to. But he pauses instead, hands cradling the back of your head, his eyes staring intensely into yours. Or you think he's staring into your eyes.
"Are you okay? Is this okay?" His voice is full of concern but raspy with arousal all the same.
"Yes, James, yes, I need more."
"Well, I would, it's just that you've disappeared on me again." One look at your hands and you know he was looking right through you, not at you. The swirl of emotions--pleasure, arousal, timidity even--sent you shifting without your knowledge. You can't help but laugh.
"Let me see you, doll," he groans, sounding exasperated that he can't rake his gaze across your naked flesh or find all the places he wants to touch you because they're invisible.
"You first."
A heated understanding lights up his eyes, still vibrant in the darkness of the room. Slowly, he releases his grip on you, relenting to not knowing where you are in space. You take an invisible step back to get a better view of the specimen before you. With one hand, he unbuckles his belt, sliding the leather from his pants and dropping it to the floor with a thunk. And then his pants are gone and he's left in his boxers, tight against the bulging muscles of his thighs.
And other bulging things. He doesn't hide his attraction to you. But still, you do not reappear.
Bucky begins to worry you're never going to, that maybe he's taken things too for. But then, a soft finger trails across his neck and he jerks in surprise. You're tracing the plain of his chest with a feather-light touch, dipping into the indent between his collarbones, feeling along the puckered scar of a bullet wound and the long slice of a knife. He feels healed beneath your touch, but it's not enough to satisfy the insatiable hunger building in the tightness of his groin. This entire evening has been a long, drawn-out, build-up of tension, and if he doesn't release it soon, it will snap like an overstretched rubber band.
He makes his move.
Apparently, Bucky's senses are just as perceptive here as they are on the sparring mat. His metal hand shoots up and wraps around the wrist of the hand on his chest, despite being unable to see it. The other reaches out and grapples at your invisible body in the dark, somehow finding your waist. He doesn't need to see you to manage to flip you around and press your back against his chest. In your surprise, your invisibility falters, and you flicker out of your shifted form with a flustered squeak, one hand suddenly pinned between your back and Bucky's rock-hard chest.
He holds on with an iron grip and walks you toward the bed, holding you up to prevent you from tripping in your ruffled state.
"You're taking too long, doll," he mumbles into your ear, and you feel his chest rumble with the vibrations. Your free hand flies to the one around your waist, which is slowly creeping upward toward your breast to twist at the sensitive nipple. "I know you like it when I pin you on the sparring floor. I can see it in your eyes. I'll take you like that right now if you give me the word."
Fuck, you want nothing more but you can't breathe enough to get the words out, opting for nodding vigorously instead. But Bucky wants words, gently prodding you forward to get a verbal commitment out of you. He will never take you against your will again. So you manage a long, drawn-out please and suddenly you're face-first in the sheets, bent halfway at the waist, your ass grinding against the delicious bulge pressed against your aching cunt. It pleases you that he has been thinking the same wicked thoughts as you when he slams you to the mat over and over again in training.
Bucky pulls your arm out from underneath you, joining it with the other and holding them together with his metal fist at your lower back, forcing your chest further into the mattress and your ass higher in the air. There's no way for you to move, no matter how hard you try. But you don't try, won't try. Bucky has you right where you want to be.
"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs in your ear and you breathe an affirmation. His teeth nibble suddenly at your ear lobe and you squirm, the sensation of his breath fanning your skin sending goosebumps along the trail of kisses he leaves down your spine. Somehow, you know this is only the calm before the storm, the gentle caresses of a man who's about to rearrange every organ in your body, all the way up to your heart if you aren't careful.
It doesn't matter to you that it's pitch black in the room; you wouldn't have been able to see anything with your face shoved into the comforter, even if the lights were on. But Bucky's starting to regret having left the lights off, wishing he could better see the curve of your hips, the swell of your thighs, or the bloom of his handprint on your ass when his hand comes down with a smack. He resigns to being satisfied by the mewling gasp that escapes your lips and your soft pleas to Do it again, harder.
So he does. Smack.
And then he's sinking to his knees and you can tell because he leaves a wet stripe of skin with his tongue over the globe of your ass and blows a shock of cool air across the rawness of your skin.  He replaces the sting of his hand with the bite of his teeth and then a kiss to soothe you again. The rollercoaster of sensations has you moaning against the mattress and rocking your hips toward his face and Barnes chuckles at your movement, your actions giving away the desperation you feel to have his tongue move to more sensitive places.
He is happy to oblige. You hadn't even noticed you'd been squeezing your thighs together until he slid a hand up between them, forcing them apart. It's a blessing your legs aren't doing any work to keep you up anymore because they feel like jelly under his touch. The hand between your thighs moves higher still until you feel his thumb pressed to your sensitive clit, warm and twitching with anticipation, desire coursing through your veins and dripping from your wet cunt. Your ears barely register that he's speaking, the blood is pumping so hard in your ears, but his words are exalting.
"Look at you, so wet for me." The hand around your wrists tightens just slightly. You are surprised by the extreme control he has over the cool metal fingers, and you almost wish he'd use those on you instead. And then he says, "you like it, don't you, doll, being at my mercy," and you forget all about the arm and decide it doesn't matter what hand presses down with a gentle strength on your clit as long as he doesn't stop. And he doesn't. Doesn't move, doesn't flinch or twitch or falter, just holds steady until your gasping mewls die down just enough for you to say, "yes, all for you, all for you, all..."
With those words, his thumb slips, between your slick folds into your pussy, finding the soft spongy flesh and pressing down again and you cry out with a careening moan that tapers off into a silent sob. He's taking his time, picking you apart, pulling at the laces that bind you together, and undoing them to release the tension he knows you harbor. But what about him? Is it not torture for him?
You breathe in a rough gasp, enough to squeak out a few more words. "I thought we were going too slow for you."
He laughs, he actually laughs, at your words, but relents.
"I hear you, doll."
I hear you. Oh wow. His tongue replaces his finger and you lose all coherence, able only to blubber some iteration of his name as the smooth muscle traces circles around your clit, finally allowing your orgasm to build with a steady contraction in your pelvis. Barnes moans between your legs like he's never tasted chocolate or buttercream or any of those other wondrous flavors and there's only you. And that moan sends you overboard, the vibrations diffusing down your legs and you tremble into your first orgasm. Your first orgasm.
He keeps going, riding out the waves of your high until you're crying that it's too much, James, too much and he pulls his tongue away from your oversensitized clit only to move down your legs. He's working you up again, teasing the smooth skin of your inner thigh with gentle nips and kisses until your body is craving release again, your cunt clenching around nothing but the memory of his mouth. He is deliberate in his ministrations, methodical in the way he must be with his missions. The flood of your first orgasm has dripped steadily down your thigh and he cleans you with his tongue, dragging upward along the sticky trail of your musky release until his tongue makes contact again and he pulls an orgasm from your desperate body once more.
He still hasn't released your arms.
"You know how long I've wanted to do this?" he groans, as you shudder again into the pleasure of his touch. He kisses back up the length of your spine while you twitch under him, his free hand dragging shock wave after shock wave from your cunt. It strikes you that this man is truly 106, not 26 like his body suggests, and you absentmindedly wonder if that's why he's so good at it, that he's had years to practice. And then his cock is pressing against your folds and you forget the notion halfway through thinking it. "You're so good to me doll, so good for opening up for me. Wanna feel your tight pussy around me."
You push backward, or do your best to without the employment of your arms, wanting desperately to feel him inside you. He is warm and all-encompassing and part of you thinks his cock spilling his seed inside of you would complete you like nothing else. But you know that's a bad idea and you can hear him already unwrapping a condom (where did he get that from?) and your body trembles with the anticipation. You haven't even seen him yet but you know he must be big, the way he grunts when the tip of his erection teases your entrance.
When he enters you it isn't gentle like the stroke of his tongue. It splits you open with a rough thrust, the laces of your heart fully undone and releasing you from their confinement. You choke on your own air.
And then he's releasing your arms, and before you can react, Barnes has you lifted, your back to his chest, your knees shoved roughly into the mattress so he can stand and fuck you from behind. The metal arm finds your neck and forces your head back, his lips dragging hot against your soft skin and muttering filthy praise into your ear, his hand gently on your throat to hold you there. Your hands fly to his, not to pull him away, but to convince him to squeeze, just a little bit harder. The pressure is grounding, and then the hand around your waist is trailing toward the bud of your clit and rubbing in urgent circles and you let out a silent gasp as he thrusts into you at a pace astounding for the position you're in.
You come hard, over his hand, around his cock, and for the first time Barnes falters, stunned by the intensity with which you clamp around him and if he hadn't made you come two times already he might have held out a bit longer to pull another one of those stunning orgasms from your slick cunt. But you're sagging, using him to hold you up against the exhaustion of repeated abuse so he releases, riding the wave of pleasure you started. Bucky groans out your name, surprising you with the gentleness of it on his tongue despite the rough hand around your neck.
When he releases you softly back onto the bed, you sink heavily into the mattress, feeling high on pleasure and drunk on his hands. He pulls away and shuffles around the room, and if you had had any energy left you might have complained at the loss of him but as it sits nothing will rouse you from the intense desire to simply fall asleep.
He continues to move about and then... the lights go on? You groan at the harsh treatment of your eyes as they adjust. But Barnes returns and pulls you against him and apologizes for the rude awakening.
"Sorry, doll," he mutters. "Wanted to get a better look at you." His fingers glide along your back and his face nuzzles into the top of your head, breathing into your hair as you press your forehead into his chest. Despite being exhausted himself he trails his hands all over your body, exploring the side of you that has been shoved into the sheets for the better part of the evening. You let him, although your nerves feel fried and oversensitive to touch.
"Watch what you do with those hands," you giggle as his fingertips brush over a nipple, "unless you're ready to go again."
"Already looking forward to next time?"
"You wish," you tease, but already you know for certain that there will be a next time.
535 notes · View notes
ptergwen · 4 years ago
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he’s gonna love you
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w/c: 3k
summary: two of peter’s favorite people in the world meet for the first time
a/n: i started writing this like a year ago but i forgot? anyway i think it’s cute so i came back to it and also we’re pretending tony didn’t d word
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“how would you feel about meeting mr. stark?”
peter drops the question out of no where. not a “hi” or “how’s it going?” first. you nearly choke on your sip of coffee. gulping, you stare up at him and push the cup to the side.
“what?” peter asks innocently, taking his seat across from you on the cafeteria bench. “he needs my help with something after school. whatever it is might take a while,” he explains while opening up a bag of chips from the vending machine. “instead of rain checking the date we had, i figured you could go with me.”
tony stark. he wants you to meet the tony stark. one of your idols and the world’s greatest hero. it sounds completely unreal.
“are- are you being serious right now? you wanna bring me to meet tony stark?” you can’t even believe you just said that. “uh,” peter finishes chewing before looking up at you. he gives you a small but hopeful smile. “yeah.” you shake your head at your boyfriend in disbelief. you’re really getting to spend your afternoon with iron man.
who else besides peter can say they’ve done that?
“unless you don’t want to,” he teases to see your reaction. “no! of course i want to! he’s my favorite avenger. how could you even say that?” you steal one of peter’s chips and crunch on it dramatically. pretending you hurt him, he puts his hand over his heart.
���first of all, you owe me a chip. second, what about me?” “it would be biased if spider-man were my favorite! you know he’s yours, too.” his salty expression changes to a thoughtful one. you have a point. “besides thor, but i guess that’s fair... ugh.”
peter glances at the cafeteria clock. “i gotta go to the library. i’ll meet you by your locker later, okay?” he leans across the table and kisses your cheek, then bends down to grab his stuff. “see you later, spidey,” you call after peter before he walks too far. he shoots you a poorly attempted wink and takes off for the library.
t-minus two hours until it’s tony time.
you leave your last class right as the bell rings, walking through the halls faster than usual. it still hasn’t sunk in what you’re about to do. peter is already waiting in front of your locker when you get there.
“look at you being early for once,” you greet him. he chuckles and steps aside. “don’t get used to it.” “i wasn’t going to,” you quip, opening your locker. peter checks his phone while you swap out a few things. after closing your locker, you turn and face him.
“happy’s waiting outside whenever you’re ready.” he puts his phone back in his pocket. “he’s driving us there?” “yeah, i didn’t tell you? he picks me up most days.” peter’s arm wraps loosely around your waist, then the two of you start walking. “that’s cool. i haven’t seen him in a minute.”
“can’t relate. he practically lives at my apartment,” peter sighs, but it’s lighthearted. “i’m surprised may hasn’t asked him to move in already.” “don’t act like you don’t secretly enjoy it,” you challenge and elbow his side. his eyes dart to you as he thinks about it. “i guess i do. he does make may really happy.” you leave the conversation at that, considering you’re about to see the man in question.
peter pushes open one of the double doors that leads to the main parking lot of midtown. “ok, we’re looking for a black suv.” his arm moves so his hand is resting on your back to guide you. you squint, eyes adjusting to the sunlight and scanning for the car. “is that it? kinda sticks out since it’s taking up, like, two parking spaces.” you point to the suv. peter looks to confirm.
“yep. that’s mr. stark for you.” he deadpans. “let’s go. our chariot awaits.” giving peter a crooked smile, you let him usher you over to the car. unsurprisingly, the thing is like a magnet for the other kids outside. some even try to peek through the tinted windows and see what’s going on. you’d do the same if you were them. it isn’t every day a car like that pulls up in your school parking lot, to be fair.
“hop in before your seats get taken,” happy says, eyeing people from his rolled down window. peter ignores his sour greeting. “my day was great, happy. how was yours?” “sorry, kid. you know i get stressy with crowds.” peter nods and glances over his shoulder. after opening the backseat door and throwing his bag inside, he turns to you.
“backpack?” “why thank you.” you take your backpack off your shoulder and hand it to peter. “no need.” dropping it next to his on the floor, peter brushes his hands off like it weighed a ton. he can be such a dummy when he’s in one of his playful moods. “jeez. well, hop in,” he sarcastically repeats happy’s words from a minute ago. you salute peter and climb in, him getting in after.
the smell of leather and quiet music playing make the oversized car feel less intimidating right away. “hey, y/n. peter. seatbelts on,” happy tells you two while staring down some kids that pass by. peter nudges you to ask if you can believe this without words. you just click your tongue at him and buckle up.
“you going to the tower with peter?” happy asks you, pulling out of the parking space. “the tower? like, avengers tower? i thought the avengers moved upstate,” you look over at peter. he shrugs his shoulders. “mr. stark said they’re still renovating it or something.”
the two of you wait for happy to explain. he’s too focused on navigating his way through the messy parking lot to realize. “happy?” peter taps his shoulder. “give me a second, kid. i’m trying to make this turn,” happy mutters. you put a hand on peter’s shoulder to pull him away. you’re trying not to laugh. “oops,” he mumbles to you.
happy finally gets out of the parking lot, and you watch his face relax in the overhead mirror. you’re driving through the streets now. “the tower should be ready next month. boss is checking it out tomorrow,” he answers your question from a few minutes ago. you nod and look over at peter. he’s probably used to hearing about all this stuff.
your mind drifts off when the conversation ends, and the reality sets in. you’ll be face to face with tony stark pretty soon. this is a big deal. not just because he’s a superhero, but because he’s a huge part of peter’s life. it’s only a step below meeting may. you’ve already done that. but, you planned it weeks before it happened. there’s extra pressure with this because it’s last minute.
before you know it, you’re in the city. you zone back in to peter telling happy about patrol the other night. happy stops at a light. he looks less than interested while peter goes on about a lost puppy. he shares a look with you, but you’re too in your head to laugh.
“i was kinda sad when his owner came to get him because i would’ve taken him home.” remembering it makes him frown. “if may said it was okay,” he adds. happy rolls his eyes playfully. peter doesn’t miss his smile when he brings up may. eyes wide, he taps your shoulder.
“uh, so, we’re almost there,” he changes the subject. you blink for a few seconds and nod. “ok, cool.” “i’ll drop you kids off outside,” happy chimes in, going when the light turns green. peter furrows his eyebrows. “you’re not coming with us?” “i’m actually going out with your aunt in a few.” that makes you tune in fully.
peter doesn’t say anything, so you talk for him. “aw, that’s nice. what are you gonna do?” “dinner and a movie. classic.” happy sits up more in his seat. you glance over at peter from your peripherals. “have a good time,” he speaks up. “thanks, kid.” it would’ve been a sweet moment if peter didn’t look so moody now.
happy pulls up to the curb, unlocking your doors. peter hands you your bag before grabbing his own. “thanks for the ride,” he says and gets out of the car quickly. “yeah, thank you so much,” you tell him, getting out on peter’s side to avoid traffic. happy waves you off. “anytime. enjoy yourselves.” and he’s gone.
you stare at the empty spot the suv was just in. peter tugs at your hand from behind you. “you coming, y/n/n?” “yeah, sorry.” you take a breath and turn around, letting him lead you into the building. security already knows him, so you go straight to the elevator. peter presses the button to the top floor and leans back against the railing.
“i can’t believe may didn’t tell me. like, i thought they-“ he stops talking when he notices the look on your face. it’s like you’re about to throw up. “you okay?” you stare down at your feet. “i’m just... scared.” “why?” his hand finds yours again, loosely intertwining your fingers together. he searches for your eyes. you meet his gaze and swallow your spit.
“i’m scared he won’t like me. i mean, what if he thinks i’m stupid?” you admit, peter instantly dismissing your worries. “mr. stark? no way. i’ve already told him a lot about you.” he squeezes your hand. “he’s gonna love you, y/n.” it sounds so genuine you almost believe him. there’s still a bit of doubt in your mind. who could possibly know what tony stark is ever thinking?
but, peter’s reassurance does make you feel better. you’ll try to go easy on yourself. a smile pulling at your lips, you nod. “i hope so.” “he will,” peter repeats and smiles back. you get to the top floor about a minute later. all the nerves reenter your body. you’re pretty sure peter can sense them. literally, he can.
“think of it like this,” he murmurs to you before the elevator doors open. “he’s a middle aged guy who likes to play with robots.” “peter, stop. that’s not even... ok.” you roll your eyes, but you you find it funny. peter takes you by your hand into the main room. he’s surprised to see tony fixing a drink behind the bar. he’ll usually be working on something or going over his schedule with pepper whenever he gets here.
you clear your throat and walk with him to the bar. tony has his back to the two of you, fixing something in a glass. “hi, mr. stark,” peter greets him, eyebrows raised. “underoos. happy with you by any chance?” he replies and pours out the rest of a seltzer in his cup. this feels fake to you. “no, but i did bring someone else.” tony turns around this time. he looks amused.
“who’s this?” you’re about to introduce yourself, but he answers his own question. he tilts his head to the side. “y/n?” the fact that he knows who you are shocks you so much you can’t answer. reading your mind, peter explains. “i showed him pictures.” you nod. “uh, yeah. hi.”
“i thought it would be nice for you guys to meet,” peter tells him, a light pink setting on his cheeks. tony pats his shoulder from behind the counter. “oh, it’s a pleasure. really.” he looks over at you before turning around again. “either of you want a drink?” “mr. stark, we aren’t allowed to-“ tony fake gasps. “you think i’d give you alcohol?”
peter looks over at his glass. tony notices and picks it up, swishing around the liquid inside. “that’s cranberry juice.” you perk up, laughing to yourself. he’s really not that scary after all. peter clenches his teeth. “oh.” “made myself a little mocktail. you know what that is, underoos?” tony shakes his head, looking back at you.
“clearly not,” you joke, tony scoffing in agreement. peter’s face scrunches up in confusion. “you just met and you’re ganging up on me?” “relax. i’m gonna make you kiddos your juice.” tony gets two other glasses from the rack. you’re not too intimidated now that you’ve joked around with him. peter is happy to see that. he’d prefer it to not be at the expense of him, though.
“so, what did you need my help with?” peter asks while tony pours juice for the two of you. he raises a finger. “ah. i was gonna have you work on a prototype for your new suit with me.” he hands you both the cups, peter taking a sip and eyeing him expectantly. “but we shouldn’t bore y/n with that. we’ll do it tomorrow, yeah?”
“i don’t mind, actually. it would be kinda cool to watch,” you jump in. peter pokes your side with a grin. “thanks, y/n/n.” good thing you’re drinking the juice or else you’d be giggly. “let’s hop to it, then. lab time.” tony rubs his hands together and steps through the small door behind the bar.
you and peter leave your backpacks on the swirly seats and follow him to the lab. tony lets you bring your drinks, which peter whispers is something he never does. he claps twice and the lights turn on. you’re amazed by what you see.
there’s a view of earth and one of space projected in the center of the room. old iron man suits are lined up, and one looks like it’s in the process of being made. random parts and crumbled notes are scattered around. avengers equipment is stored in a safeguarded area next to the suits. you’re really in iron man’s lab.
“whew, excuse the mess,” tony says to you on his way over to a plushy desk chair. you and peter sit in ones identical to it. peter is on tony’s left, and you’re next to peter. “friday, open file 7p.” “yes, boss.” a new projection replaces the others. it feels like something out of a movie.
the two of them look through what tony has done so far. peter hums, squinting as he reads the coding. you’re not even going to try making sense of it. this is beyond you. it’s still interesting to see what they’ll do. he reaches over and points at the screen, then drags his finger down. it gets picked up as scrolling. peter seems to approve of most of it until he’s almost at the bottom.
“there’s only one thing i wanna change,” he tells tony, waiting for the go ahead to say it. tony raises an eyebrow. “my webs. they haven’t been... sticky enough lately.” “you wanna change the formula?” now they’re speaking words you understand. you try to keep up. “yeah, but i don’t know what’s missing,” peter taps his fingers on the table.
“tell me what formula you’re using,” tony crosses his arms and turns to face peter in his chair. “polyvinyl acetate.” you’re lost again. “break it down, will you?” peter stills his hand and tries to recall it. “carbon four hydrogen eight oxygen two?”
you know enough about chemistry to understand chemical formulas. that can’t be it. “i think that’s wrong,” you cut in quietly. they both turn to you. tony is pleasantly surprised, but peter is a little shocked. “what do you think it is, y/n?” tony prompts you. “i’m not sure, but it sounds like there’s way too much hydrogen. it could be making your webs more... watery.”
peter thinks it over, and his eyes widen. “wait, you’re right. it should be hydrogen six.” he lets out a laugh of disbelief. “how do you know more about my webs than me?” “basic chemistry, i guess.” you do your best to bite back a smile. you just outsmarted two geniuses. tony swats at peter’s arm to get his attention.
“keep that in your head. make some new web fluid tomorrow.” “i will.” peter bumps your knee under the table. “or i’ll ask y/n to help me.” “please, i’m barely good at this stuff.” you shake your head. “no, he’s right. you’re pretty smart, kid. neither of us could figure it out.” this is the first thing you’ve heard tony say today that wasn’t sarcastic. that must mean he’s serious. tony stark called you smart.
the three of you spend a few more hours tweaking minor things for peter’s new suit, each of them asking you for input from time to time. you get to be a temporary avenger. tony tells you inside secrets about the team, too. all about their powers, funny stories, you hear some of everything. he only stops when friday says it’s eight o’clock.
“i was supposed to let you go at seven. whoops.” tony swipes his hand, making the projection disappear. peter’s face falls. “aw, mr. stark. can we stay a little longer?” “this is really fun,” you say in the same whiny voice. he lets out a breath. “don’t you two have better things to do? eat, homework, watch tv?”
before either of you can protest, he pulls out his phone. “i’m telling happy to come get you.” “he can’t. he’s...” peter sighs. “he’s on a date with may.” tony snorts and shoves his phone back in his pocket. “that’s still happening? i’ll drive you, then.” “but you never drive me.�� peter gives him a strange look. tony gestures you. “well, we have a very special guest today. special guest means special circumstances.”
each of you get up from the table. tony goes and opens up the door to the lab. you and peter stay back a few seconds. you’re grinning to yourself about the day. peter leans in close to you and presses a kiss to the side of your head, his lips lingering before he pulls away. his arm finds its place around your waist. you let yourself relax in his hold.
“told you he was gonna love you.”
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erensonly · 4 years ago
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Cuddle Buddies (Bakugou x Black! Reader)
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                                   ~Chapter 7: Date~
0, 1, 2 ,3, 4, 5,6, 6.2
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(don't play the song yet 👩🏿‍🌾)
Waking up on a Saturday without music playing is truly a blessing(iykyk). After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you walk downstairs and you see mama on the phone.
"-es, I understand. Thanks for letting me know... Keep me updated."
"Who was that?" Startled, she turned around ready to hit somebody. "Don't scare me no more. Anyway, that was the principal, he said that you would need to move in the dorms by Monday because those damn villains are active again."
"Don't nobody wanna be there. I wanna be at home," you groaned. Plating your breakfast, you sit down and grab your phone, seeing a text from Bakugou asking if you wanted to go out later. Accepting his offer, you finish your food and go to get your morning routine started.
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(this is your hair and outfit, don't like it then you can change it)
Walking downstairs, you got to find mama to tell her you're going out. "MAMA!" Walking towards her room, you knock on the door before opening it, just to let her know you're coming in.
"Now why are you yelling in my damn house?" she questions. oops... "My bad. Anyway, I'm going with out with Bakugou. I'll be back later, k?" Turning to walk away, you hear, "That's your man, ain't it?"
"Huh?" Is that really how it looks? That ain't my man... yet. "Girl you heard me. Is that your man?" This is mad awkward. How do I explain that that's my man but not formally my man but still my man?
"Um... Not yet I guess."
"And why not?" Dang, she do be nosy🖐🏽
"Because he ain't asked yet."
"Mhm.." she said looking at you like she knew better (y'all know that look you give when somebody lying) "Alright. See you later."
Big Head🐥 i'm ready
                                                     Bakuboy💥                                                      around the corner
Walking outside, you see a car pull around. Rolling down the window, you see Bakugou. "Get in!" Opening the door, you get in the well polished car.
"Hey-"
"What do you want to eat?" No hi, hello, how are you? just straight to the point I guess.
"I don't know... you pick." (if somebody asked me what i wanted to eat i will stay silent🖐🏽 ain't nobody eating then)
"Wings it is."
"Gimme your phone," you told him. "Why? Tryna look through my search history?"
"Um... no. Don't nobody care what you do in your spare time. Now gimme it" Handing you his phone, you go to spotify and click on a random playlist. Dmx Aaliyah Tupac Biggie King Von & more
"You got taste or whatever," you complimented.
"Duh look at me. Obviously I have taste." Here this cocky nigga go.
(play song now)
"Just say 'Thank you' and go," you rolled your eyes. Playing 'I Need A Girl' by Diddy (y'all don't know nun bout that) you start to sing along quietly.
I need a girl to ride ride ride I need a girl to make my wife I need a girl who's mine, all mine I need a girl in my life
As you start to rap along you hear Bakugou quietly rap along. Smiling at him, you turn the music up.
Yo, I'm internationally known on the microphone I got it all I really need a wife at home
Turning it up more, you both got louder. Enjoying yourselves and each other. This was something you craved. Having fun with someone you were close to and had a great relationship with.
Looking over, you see Bakugou glancing at you while singing the song. Glancing back, you smile at him and continuing to sing to him, him singing back.
Need a girl that can stand me, raise me a family Go from trips to Delancey to trips to the grammys
"What you know about this?" You we're still shocked that he had music taste like this. He looked like he listened to one Nba Youngboy song and called himself a gangster. ( tell me i'm wrong)
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Finally at Buffalo Wild Wings, you both step out of the car. Starting to walk towards the door, Bakugou entwined your pinkies together.
"What do you want to eat?"
"Hot wings and fries. What do you want?" you said, putting emphasis on 'you.'
"The same thing. Wanna split a 20 piece?" What type of stupid question is that? "Duh."
Waving over a waitress, Bakugou starts to order for the both of you. "Good afternoon, my name is CeCe and I'll be serving you today! What would you like?"
Noticing that she hasn't taken her eyes off of Bakugou since you both had walked in, you grabbed his hand and started to play with his fingers.
"Can we get a 20 piece hot wings and fries? You want f/d right?" nodding, you continue to play with his rings, "and a Coke."
"Ok," she 'subtly' brushed her painted nails on his shoulder, "I'll have that right out for you." Walking away, she turned back and glared at you. Glaring back, you flick her off.
"She being mad annoying already and we just got here," you complained.
"Tell me about it. She touch me again Imma blow this whole damn place down," he rolled his eyes. Grabbing you hand, he starts to play with your fingers as well.
"Where was Mama at?"
"Boy that ain't yo mama. And she was minding her business. Why?"
"I want her to cook for me," he said matter of factly.
"Why are you acting like you've been knowing her your whole life?" you asked, laughing at him.
"Because I can. She obviously liked me when I met her."
"Oh my god," you laughed, " what do you want her to cook for your oh so fancy pallet?"
"Surprise me."
"You gotta try soul food," you gushed, " it's so good on holidays especially."
"Here you are," the waitress said cheerfully. "Anything else for you?" she asked, only looking at Bakugou.
"No, we don't want anything else," you interrupted.
"I wasn't asking you."
"But I answered. Do we have a problem?" Who does she think she is? Imma need her to stop coming for my man.
"I said I wasn't talking to yo-"
"Listen, I suggest you back the hell off my girl before she lays yo stupid ass out, K?" he interrupted.
His girl? I like the sound of that
She huffed and walked off, obviously annoyed she couldn't keep flirting with him.
He started to eat, but you was still stuck on the 'my girl' thing.
"I'm your girl now, huh?"
Looking up at you, he wiped his mouth, "You should know this by now."
"Like I told you, you haven't asked."
"Whatever."
Continuing to eat and bicker, you both just enjoyed each other's company.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
After finishing the food and paying, you start to walk towards the car, him following behind you. Trying to open the door, you feel your hand get pulled and now your back it against the door.
Pinning you to the car, he leans in closer to you. "You're my girl, got it?"
Being bratty, you decide to test him a bit. "Nope. You haven't asked."
"Fine... Will you finally be mine?" That was straightforward. Don't really know what I expected though.
"... I guess," you said, sheepishly smiling. "Took you long enough."
"Shut up," he said leaning in.
Slowly entwining lips. Lips soft and lush against each other's. The kiss getting hot, he grabs your waist, pulling you closer. You more both trying to get closer to each other, if possible.
Trying to deepen the kiss, he started to slip his tongue in, again trying to pull you closer as if you would just disappear. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you too start to deepen the kiss.
After a while, you start to pull away, still slightly pecking his lips.
"Let's go-" more kisses. "We can't be-" more kisses. "-in front of everyone like this-" more kisses. Pushing him away slightly, you peck his lips one more time and push him off fully.
Getting in the car, you shuffle his playlist, quietly singing along. He put his hand on your thigh, lightly rubbing.
Leaning your head on the window, you start to doze  off little by little. Finally asleep, Bakugou turns the music down slightly and continues to drive you home.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
"Baby, get up." You felt someone trying to shake you awake. "Move," you groaned, trying to slap away the hands shaking you.
"Ugh." Bakugou got out the car, going to your side. Opening your door, he grabs you out of the car, you wrapping your legs around his waist. Walking up the steps he knocked on the door.
"Who is it!" He saw your mother open the door. "I- did that damn girl fall asleep? Here, her room is upstairs to the right."
In your room, he noticed the posters and other decor around the room. Definitely her style. he thought.
Setting you down on the bed, he took your shoes and socks off, he put your head on the pillow.
"Goodnight Pretty girl," he kissed your head, pulling the covers over your body. He walked downstairs to let himself out.
"You must really like her, huh?" mama asked.
"Yeah, I do."
"Take care of her. This is the earliest I've seen her sleep in a long time," she smiled fondly.
"But if you hurt her, I'll hurt you so bad your own mother can feel it. Got it?" Her mood changes just like y/n's. Probably where she got it from.
"I won't hurt her. Promise."
"Alright," she started, leading him to the door, " get home safe."
"Thank you." And with that he was off. Getting home, in his bed and just thinking about your pretty smile and soft lips. He could definitely get used to kissing you like that.
                                                 ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
i hope you enjoyed this, i will be trying to update every sunday if i can. thx for reading ♥
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seriouslyblacklikemysoul · 4 years ago
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Like her - Bucky Barnes
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Hello!! I did a thing... I big oops... I have no idea where this is going but honestly... gosh, Bucky is finally given the spotlight! Yes, I am talking about that trailer.  So, I guess bear with me? From what I feel, this is going to be ... quite the journey. Spoilers, if I accidentally am on to something? MASTERLIST Word Count~ 2k.  If you want to be tagged or you have an idea about this, please let me know!  Love you all! 
      Nothing made sense anymore. The world seemed to be upside down and he couldn’t find an anchor to hold on to. A thousand thoughts on his mind, past and future blurred into a chaotic present. He had found a still moment in the universe, after his best friend retired and that was the only way he could cope with the ever-changing situation.   
         He had believed that a new beginning was all that he needed; but before he could begin, he had to be free of his past and that he simply could not do. Working with Wilson was not his cup of tea, either. He was searching for meaning but maybe fulfillment wasn’t about what he had already done, maybe it was about the things he hadn’t and that was worse.                            It was simple mission; keep an eye on a questionable individual. Well, at least, that was what the files told him. Girl, early twenties, not a very interesting life – to him, at least, he thought. She might have loved studying and serving coffee to people she didn’t know just so she could earn her living. And a clue that linked her to an old enemy – Zemo. No one knew what their relationship was, or even if there was any. They had been able to pick up a single message sent from her phone to an unknown number that it was later identified as Zemo’s.                He was standing outside the coffee shop she was working, not knowing if he would be able to identify her; they only had a blurry picture of her – another clue that she was onto something as she was avoiding to be seen. Not that he could blame her for that. If she was working with the man that put him trough all of that a couple of years ago, he didn’t know if he would hand her over or…                    He walked inside, trying to appear as relaxed and nonchalant as possible, knowing that he would be awkward anyway. Sam could have done this, he thought, rolling his eyes at that. It was quite busy, actually, and the atmosphere was cozier than what he had expected. And so, he found the table that furthest away but had a good angle-view to keep an eye on the personnel and sat down. He scanned the place but there was no trace of the girl from the picture. He was pretending to read the menu so no one would come soon to take his order.                He was about to stand up and leave, having spent almost half an hour being a jerk and not ordering a thing, when a soft tornado rushed through the front door. He was left gawking at her for a moment and then quickly shook it off. She murmured an apology to her colleagues but they just smiled at her, as if they knew why she was late. He was able to distinct two words: application, problems. He cleared his throat and not a moment later, there she was.            “Hello! What can I get you?” she politely asked him, ready to take his order, not exactly looking at him. Whatever she was previously doing, affected her still. He was caught by surprise, because he actually never looked at the menu.                    “An americano and um, what do you suggest?” he had to act normal, he thought again. Maybe channel his inner long-lost self. She finally looked at him, with a questioning smile on her face. The picture they had was old and did not do her any justice.                “Our sour lemon bars are amazing” she informed him after a second of brainstorming. Sour, huh? He noticed her body language – she truly didn’t know who he was. Then again, without his long hair and a visible metal arm, not many people could recognize him. He nodded in agreement and she left.                    She was in a pretty bad mood. The application she had sent to the university was still not accepted, her computer broke down, she was barely making it by and she was tired having had zero sleep the night before, tormented by nightmares. She handed the order to Jackie and sat down, behind the bar. While Jackie was preparing everything, she was making herself a cup of coffee.                    “He is cute” she heard – and so did he, thanks to his enhanced senses. He was not used to being called cute or anything like that. Maybe an older version of him was pretty good with women – this one, not so much. He wasn’t bad, unlike Steve, but … something wasn’t there anymore.           She looked at him, for a split second before gulping her coffee down.                  “Better you than me” she whispered. The other girl was shocked.            “What happened?” she asked her, a ton of concern laced her voice and that captured his attention.              “I don’t know what to do” she said, almost desperate. As his lemon bars were being transferred to a beautiful plate, Jackie asked the one-million-dollar question.          “What about that guy? Helmut?”. That was all Bucky needed to add her to his suspect list – well, to cross off everyone else but her, really.            “Hasn’t delivered and I am running out of time” she murmured in fear of being heard. She was right to be afraid of that, he did eavesdrop. Bucky hoped that she would be the one to bring his coffee but unfortunately, another waiter came.                    For the better part of an hour, he tried to catch anything of importance, having already informed Sam. But there was nothing. She just did her job. Deciding that it was better to leave in order not to attract any kind of unwanted attention, he left the money on the table and walked out of the place, faster than he would have liked.            Who was she?        
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           It had been pretty hard for her, lately. That roughly translated into more than ten years. She was used to being treated badly by life but she was standing right on the edge and she had nothing to grab onto to stop her fall. As long as she could remember, she was alone. The first person she had met was a grim old lady, telling her to stop crying otherwise the Sinnerman was going to eat her. Once she was at an age, she could understand what was happening, she was made aware she had no family – that wanted her, anyway – and that was why she had ended up there. It more of a torture-place than an orphanage.                    By the age of fifteen, she had achieved an early high school graduation, and her caretakers saw that she didn’t have the potentials to become the next prodigy, no matter the hard work. Being fifteen and on the streets was something she wished on nobody. She was smart, though – she got a job and soon was able to afford her own place. It was small but it was all she needed. A roof over her head, a bed and a shower.              Lately, things were just not easy. She hadn’t been paid for at least four months and she had no cushion of money to fall onto. Her landlord would kick her out any minute now, and she had no backup plan. Her study application hadn’t panned out yet and when a stranger reached her, promising her a ton of cash and a name, she didn’t think twice.            When she agreed to hack into a couple of databases, she had no idea who that person was. Only that he knew her parents and was willing to pay. That was all she needed, really. Little did she know, she was helping a criminal to get out of a life-long sentence. She tried to back away, but a single threat was more than enough to persuade her. She wasn’t used to knives being that close to her neck.            She had done her part, even though she regretted it, but he had still to deliver and she had no other option. She would stay awake, thinking why her? Out of all the hackers in the world, why her?            “Don’t worry! They’ll choose you, they would be stupid not to” Jackie told her, as she was ready to leave. She laughed at that.              “I am not gonna pay them, I am the one asking them for a fund. They would be stupid if they did choose me!” she explained again, waving her goodbye. She was closing up the place today. She didn’t mind. The later she got back to her place, the smaller the chances to meet her landlord. She liked working alone, being alone. That was why she had it easier than the other girls back in the day.  They struggled keeping up with the classes, the training, the killing. She did her job, and got on with her life. Well, at least until she was kicked out.                Placing the last cups back on their self, she heard the door opening and closing – footsteps were approaching her.                “I’m sorry, we’re closed” she chimed, as she turned around. That guy again. Yeah, alright, he was cute but her mind was warning her. He smiled – but it was forced and she saw it. Something wasn’t right.                  “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see any sign” he said and it was true, she hadn’t put on the closed sign. He knew that she knew – but instead of making a run for it, she played along. Sam was waiting outside, car ready.            “Oh, yeah, that’s my bad” she calmly informed him, letting her towel down and picking up the sing to hang, moving slowly through the space. He recognized her moves but it couldn’t be. Her moves were familiar but not fully known. He was closing in. After a rather long eye-contact, she threw the metal sign at him, aiming his exposed neck, almost cutting him. She was strong.              All it took was two steps and they were engaged in a full-blown combat. He threw up his forearms like an offensive lineman blocking a defensive back, but she slipped to the side, pushed his elbow down and away, caught his head, and rolled him into the floor. Not even a second later, Bucky threw her off of him and was on his feet, watching her rush toward him in slow motion. He reached under his shirt even as he pushed past the tables. She did not try to stop the gun; she rolled his hand under his wrist, drove his arm over and back, and pulled him backward and down. She had the gun before he slammed into the floor, and was pointing it at him.              She wasn’t afraid to use it, and he was almost scared by the look on her face. He had seen that look before. He tackled her, grabbed her wrist with his right hand and held the gun hand against her chest, while he placed his left arm tightly around her neck. She headbutted him but neither flinched.              Before she could do anything, Sam placed a cloth on her mouth and nose and knocked her out.              “Took you long enough” he mused at an annoyed Bucky. He rolled his eyes at him, still very much confused as to why she knew those moves.                “I think she was trained for the Black Widow program” he let on, as he picked her up while Sam made everything to look as if nothing had happened. He even closed up the place.                    Bucky placed her on the backseat of the car. She wasn’t a Black Widow, yet her fighting style…                    “Who is she?” Sam asked as they were driving away. 
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lostinmysticfalls · 5 years ago
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Meet Me In The Afterglow - Javi x Fem!Reader
This is for the anon who wanted some angst and dramaaaa! Based on the following exchange: “Did I ever mean anything to you? Or was it a lie?”
“Everything I told you, everything you think you know about me, is a lie... But I never lied about my feelings for you.” 
Anon, I hope this is of your liking! *crosses fingers* Also, I didn’t know if you wanted smut so I threw some in there just in case ;) There’s also more Spanish than I thought there would be. Oops.
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You had just finished changing into your dress, checking yourself in the mirror as you smoothed out the fabric with your hands, when you noticed the stack of envelopes and folders on top of the dresser. You rolled your eyes because you hated when Javi brought his work home with him. 
Over the course of your time together, he’d been trying his best to separate his personal life from his work at the DEA. 
You hummed to yourself before curiosity got the better of you, and as soon as you opened one of the folders you understood why the proverb rang true. 
Your heart dropped to your stomach, the air escaping you like you were suddenly spiraling into a dark and bottomless pit. 
Your hand shook as you stared at the black and white picture you found inside the manila folder. A haunting chill ran through you, realizing you had been followed, possibly for some time. It had been taken from afar as you were leaving the office one evening, like some kind of criminal being surveilled or a person of interest in an investigation. 
A pang shot straight into your chest, not understanding why it was in Javi’s possession.
"The hot water's running low again. This building needs some major repairs." Javi said as he stepped out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. “Maybe it’s time we finally consider other options.” He smiled, taking a pair of pants out of the drawer.
You barely registered his words, feeling faint the longer you tried to make sense of what you were looking at. The folder in question also contained a full detailed profile on you, like he'd performed some kind of background check or he'd been keeping close tabs on you for a while before you even met.
He came up behind you, kissing the side of your neck. His dark wet hair dripped on your bare shoulder, warm mouth brushing your skin. 
“Por qué tan distraída, mi amor?” He asked, his smile soon disappearing when he looked down at the folder in your hand and realized why you were so preoccupied.
He was almost as shocked as you, but there was a glint of fear in his eyes as he quickly went into damage control mode. 
You managed to gather your thoughts just enough to ask a single question. "What the fuck is this, Javi?” 
"I can explain." He croaked, his voice breaking.
“You can explain…” You huffed, keeping your cool much better than you thought you would. 
His hand reached out to you, trying to grab your arm, but you pulled away. It was the first time you’d flinched like that in response to his touch and you could see the hurt reflected in his eye at that realization. 
“Did you… Did you have me followed? Why do you have all this shit on me? Fuck! I fucking knew it, Javi! I knew this was too fucking good to be true.” You stammered through your delivery but it was clear enough for him to get the point. 
“Listen to me.” He yanked the towel off and quickly threw on the pair of pants. Any other time you would’ve been grateful for that kind of display. “Fuck.” He muttered, running a hand through his wet hair, knowing he was deep in this now.
You shoved the folder into him, the corners bending as he took a hold of it and then tossed it on top of the dresser. He knew what was in it, he didn’t need to look at it.
“I should leave.” Your voice sounded stern, your stomach still in turmoil, the sickening feeling only getting worse.
Javi shook his head. “No. You need to hear me out first.”
“Was any of this even true? Was I just part of your job? Is this why you’ve been with me all this time?” You yelled. 
He stepped a little closer, his sorrowful brown eyes looking down at you. That perfect little mouth of his that you loved so much, slightly parted, as he took a breath. 
“I needed a girl.” He finally said. “It started off like that. I needed a girl to get me close enough to a lead I was following at the time. He was a client of yours and I knew he would be attending that stupid holiday party your office was throwing. I knew it couldn’t be just anyone—he’s familiar with all the girls in town…”
“So you picked me. I was your ticket in.” You muttered, the stabbing in your chest intensifying. You felt a knot in your throat materialize, sensing that you were going to break down any second. But you managed to hold your composure just enough to finish your thought. “Did I ever mean anything to you?” Finding it hard to even swallow at that point. “Or was all of it a lie?”
The distraught look on his face only added to your confusion. 
“Of course you do. You mean everything to me.” His hands carefully touched the side of your face as if just a single brush of his fingers would make you crumble into pieces. “What I told you when we first met, the way this began… maybe that was a lie. But I swear to you, I never lied about my feelings for you. Never.” He uttered your name softly, with the type of adoration that you’d grown accustomed to.
It was obvious you needed time to process everything. It was a lot to take in all at once, but deep down you wanted to believe him. Wholly and without doubt. 
“You kept it from me. For three months, Javi!” 
“Because I thought that you not knowing would keep you safe.” One hand raked your hair, making you shiver. “I need you to trust me, sweetheart, please.” His voice a mere whisper as he leaned into you and rested his forehead on yours. “Eres lo mejor que me ha pasado.” 
You scoffed. “The best thing that ever happened to you was something that was built on a lie?”
“I do regret the circumstances of our meeting. But I don’t regret what happened after that.” He admitted. “I love you and you know that. You can’t fake something like that.” 
The look you gave him was reassurance that he wan’t entirely wrong. You felt it too. You had lived it for the past three months. You loved him with your whole heart. 
It was as if he was reading your mind. “Te amo con todo.” He said, “Lo sabes.” His parted lips lightly touching the plumpness of your lower lip. Waiting for you to give him the green light or any kind of sign that you weren’t gonna run off on him. 
“I don’t know what to believe anymore.” You backed away, grabbing your purse off the coffee table before heading for the door.
You’d gotten close enough to touch the doorknob when you felt his hand on your arm. It wasn’t really a strong hold and it wasn’t aggressive, but his clear intention was for you to slow down, to reconsider. 
“You lied to me.” There was a crack in your voice, and you reacted in the only way you could think of, in an instant, slapping him across the face when he got too close.
You were on the brink of tears, like a flood of emotions had been unleashed once you made contact with his cheek. For a split second, you regretted what you had done but it was the only form of punishment you found fit for the situation. 
He put both hands on your arms—no trace of anger in him, no blame whatsoever. You initially struggled to break free, knowing it wouldn’t take much for you to get wrapped up in him again. After all, you wanted to forgive him. Your weakness for him was too great.
“I deserved that. And more.” Javi’s voice was soft, and his glances still kind even through your actions. “I’m sorry. I love you.” He kept repeating it like it was a litany, over and over.
You screeched in frustration and anger when he pulled you into him. Your desire to push him away waning with each passing second as his arms blanketed you in a tight embrace against his naked chest. The fury subsided slowly the longer your body was pressed up against him. Javi continued whispering his confession in your ear, aware that you had stopped resisting him.
He kissed the side of your head. Everything was still for a moment, filled with uncertainty about what was coming next. Your heart aching and thundering in your chest as he began to move slowly.
Your breathing hitched at the feel of him sliding down the front of your body, heaving from the exertion. His face was pressed to your chest, trailing between your breasts and down your belly as he anchored himself to your tights. His hands spread over your ass as he fell to his knees. 
You stumbled a couple steps back, becoming wedged between him and the door. “Javi, please...” Your entire body betraying you at the sight of him looking so pathetic and vulnerable at your feet.
“I can’t lose you.” He said, his lips kissing your bare legs. The ruffled hem of your dress rising as his mouth began to move higher up. His nose tracing the initial path over your inner thighs, followed by his lips.
You gripped his hair with your hands, a loud gasp escaping you. Your heat began rising quickly, undulating within you until that throbbing ache between your legs overpowered your reasoning.
“I love you.” He said again, his mouth nipping your mound over your underwear, as he hooked his fingers to the elastic band.
“Javi.” You sighed, your pulse staggered and your whole being buzzing as you felt his heated breath against your core. 
He pulled your underwear down slowly, probably out of fear that you were going to react unfavorably—and with good reason. But you did no such thing. The cotton fabric slid down your legs, your nakedness at his mercy. 
Javi shoved his face into your heat, his tongue going to work on your exposed flesh. Your back hit the door. You writhed, the jolts of pleasure making your legs wobbly. The moans that left your lips encouraged his fervency as he lapped your wet slit from top to bottom, sucking at your swollen nub just when you thought you couldn’t take any more.  
He was fully enjoying your taste and he made sure that you knew it, his lewd satisfied noises growing louder along with your whimpers with each minute that ticked by. 
“Oh my god.” Your ragged speech an indication that he had you close to breaking. 
He dipped his nose between your thighs, making them part a little further still. His lips enclosed around your bud again, skilled fingers finding your slippery opening and invading it at unhurried pace.
“Javi!” You cried his name out, feeling two of his fingers inside you. His mouth continued to suck at your folds and his tongue flicked your tender nub as he moved inside you.
Your body was only able to handle so much, moments later unraveling from the immense pleasure he was inflicting on you. Millions of little stars rupturing behind your closed eyelids as you came, your legs shaky and your breathing heavy.
Javi wiped his mouth, coming to stand before you. You still needed more of him, your body longing for it as he kissed your neck. His teeth scraped your skin as he bit down on it, making you whir with need. 
“Te amo, Javier.” You said to him, admitting that even through the white lies and the deceit your feelings for him remained unchanged. 
He bucked his hips into you, his hardness pressing against your lower stomach and making the heat within you flourish like an unabated blaze. His hands gripped your sides, mouth crashing into yours as he lifted you off the ground. Your legs instinctively hooked around his waist as you kissed him ravenously. 
Javi carried you in his arms, not once breaking free from your kiss. He stumbled his way into the bedroom, carefully dropping you on top of his bed before taking off his pants. You sat up for a moment, long enough for him to pull your dress over your head.
His hands quickly unfastened your bra, palms and fingers kneading your breasts, eagerly squeezing the fullness of your supple skin as he nipped at your lips. He pinched your nipples, twisting your peaks until your breathing quickened against his mouth. 
He moved into you, his hands wrapping around your hips, adjusting you as he situated himself between your opened legs and lied on top of you. You welcomed the weight of his body. His cock pressing against your inner thighs, the ridges of his veiny length teasing your dripping cunt and making you pant with want. 
He kissed you for a long drawn out minute before his mouth began to travel over your chest, his hands tenderly caressing your skin, tracing it delicately. His fiery lips placing kisses on your breasts, revering your body in a way that was so uniquely him. 
His lips enveloped one nipple, suckling it as his fingers traced the bends of your perfect frame. You arched your back, moaning while you basked in the feeling of his teeth grazing your skin.
Your heart was pounding, stomach churning with excitement as he wrapped his hands around your thighs and spread you open. His open mouth glided over your stomach, gently nipping at you as he moved lower still. A mewling cry left your lips at the feel of his tongue on your slit again. He licked you a few times and then kneeled before you, the tip of his cock breaking through your opening nice and slow. 
“So fucking good.” Javi muttered. Your snug walls enclosed around him as he filled you up.
You moaned loudly, knees bent as he entered you, gliding in and out a little faster each time. One of his hands gently wrapped around your neck, his grunts filling the air around you as he bucked his hips into you at an even pace.
After a while he pushed himself up, grabbing your calves and lifting up your legs. You followed suit, resting them on his broad shoulders, allowing him to hit new depths as he pushed into you faster and harder. The bed frame shaking behind you, hitting the wall every time he made contact with your sweet spot. 
“Don’t stop, don’t stop.” You pleaded. “Just like that.”
The loud whimpers that erupted from you seconds later, a result of him making you come undone once again. You kissed him, biting his lip as your walls contracted and gushed, heat spreading through you in seconds. The euphoric feeling rolling out like shock waves over you, reaching all extremities.
Javi was knelt in front of you, his brown eyes enthralled by the gratified expression on your face as you reveled in his actions. He took a hold of your ankles, bucking his hips into you at an incessant pace, breathing heavily and moaning, relishing in how good you felt. After a few minutes, your whimpers were enough to push him over that point of no return. 
He groaned loudly, slamming into your core with unrestrained force until he burst inside you. The heat of his release permeating your entrance and sending all his senses into disarray for those few glorious seconds. 
His body gently rested on top of you, exhausted and agitated, once he was all done. He was incredible; the best you’d ever had. No one had ever made you feel like him, and you were sure that no one ever would again. 
Once the surge of emotions had faded, and you were both down from your high, it came time for the inevitable. 
You got up from the bed first, going to the bathroom to clean up and then quickly returning to put your clothes back on. Javi took his time getting out of bed but by the time he did, he understood that what had transpired between you wasn’t a quick, magical fix to your problem.
You needed time. 
“I love you with everything too, Javi.” You said, speaking to him calmly. “Which is why I can’t just forget that all of this started off as a deception.” A tiny smile appeared on your face. “And yeah, maybe the ruse ended up becoming real after a while. I do believe that.”
His footsteps closed in on you.
“If you need space, I’ll give you that.” 
The wretched look on his face was heartbreaking but you were sure that time apart was necessary for this to work in the long run.
“But I’m not going anywhere.” He tilted his head slightly, leaning into you, his lips touching yours softly. “I’ll be here waiting until you’re ready.”
You nodded, sighing as he kissed your forehead. Wishing the moment had lasted a while longer.  
“I have to go.” Your voice was hushed as you turned to leave again.
This time you made it to the door without him stopping you.
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wolf-555-writer · 5 years ago
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Target On My Back Part 7
This one’s kinda long xd. Oops. Enjoy, enjoy.
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PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6
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Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow x Reader
Summary: After confessing your feelings, Natasha and you are now together. But will it last? Working as SHIELD Agents together seems to be going perfectly, but how about your personal life? The past still seems to haunt you in the nights, but will it only stay in your dreams? Can it all be fixed, or is it way too late for that?
Word Count: 5,523
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Tossing and turning. Trying to escape. Trying to run away. Far, far away. A sharp inhale of air, followed by a contraction of all the muscles in your feverish body, you scare awake. Wrapped up in the sheets and the slightly oversized T-shirt sticking to your clammy back. A trembling sigh leaves your mouth, now slightly relaxing. You check your left and your eyes shift over a small picture frame on the wooden bedside table. It holds an old photo, one edge torn off and wrinkled, portraying two people in love - beyond a doubt - who both were stupidly unaware of that at the time. Eventually locking your sleepy eyes on the alarm clock next to the frame. The illuminated numbers read 3:41.
Great… Another restless night. Rubbing your sweat-stained face with your hands in desperation when a calm voice eases, “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, just a stupid nightmare”, you answer the woman who was peacefully asleep beside you but woken up by some troubled movements. Or was it a memory? You wonder. Natasha sits upright in bed and runs a hand through her messy, red hair before gently placing it on your shoulder. “Was it about…”, she strokes your back softly, “you getting shot? Like the last time?”. She hesitates a bit with the question, knowing the tension it brings. “No it wasn’t”, you grunt, making it sound more resentful than anticipated. Now that your eyes have fully adjusted to the dark room, you’re able to see her upset expression clearly, without a doubt caused by your last comment.
“If it were possible I would take it all back, but I can’t, okay”. Meanwhile the redhead had let go of you, her warm touch replaced by a cold sensation. “I have to live with the choices I made. All the things I did”. Lying down on the mattress again, she has turned her back towards you and pulls on the sheets to cover herself completely. She keeps her secrets, especially about the time in the Red Room. It’s a difficult subject for her. No surprise, judging by the information SHIELD has on the KGB-owned Academy. But you’re hoping that one day she’ll let you in. Under her breath Natasha mutters, “It’s all easy for you”, which was meant to remain inside, but managed to slip out. Unfortunately, a little too loud.
You scoff. “What is that supposed to mean?”. With a quick roll - and heavy sigh - Natasha turns to face you. “Like I said, I have to live with my choices. With all the scars I can’t erase. All you have left are the physical ones. The only reminder. But with a clear, carefree mind, pretending like it never happened”.
“Pretending?! So you think it’s all rainbows and sunshine for me huh? No horrible things haunting my mind?”, you snap. She’s got a point there though. It’s not a contest, but if it was, she would be by far the winner. All the trauma she needs to cope with. And mostly on her own. You're not the only one who has restless nights. 
“Okay, just- forget about it. Forget about what I said. I’m sorry”, you sigh tiredly and let your body plump down on the mattress next to the one you’re sharing this bed with. “I’m sorry, Nat”. Caressing your cheek with the back of her index finger as she whispers, “It’s okay”, causing a small smile to form at your features. A second attempt. “But, the bad dream. I think it was about... when I was younger. Like really young, when I was just a kid. I felt grief and-”, taking a deep breath in, “and anger. A lot of anger. A rage inside of me”.
I can clearly see that ‘rage’, Natasha thinks. Maybe a good thing she didn’t say that out loud. You look at Natasha, expecting an answer, a memory you don’t have anymore. But she turns away, deliberately breaking eye contact, and murmurs, “Just go back to sleep, it’s late”. “Are you kidding me?”. “It’s complicated”. “Complicated? Is that all?”. Oh no, here we go again…
“Well, what do you want me to say, huh? Recruited by the KGB when we were only innocent kids. Raised, trained and forced to kill in the Red Room, and after the mandatory graduation ceremony operatives at that same KGB, doing the most unspeakable things, no questions asked. Do you want to hear that?! Is that it?!”
You remain remarkably quiet, a bit blown away by Natasha’s sudden outburst of words, who in the meantime sat upright in bed again. “We’re both broken. You as much as I am. Don’t you dare deny that”. With that final statement she lays down, facing the wall and not you, tucking herself in tightly. This time there’s no turning around.
After a few minutes Natasha's breathing has become slower and more rhythmic, telling you she's asleep again. Twenty minutes of mindlessly staring at the white ceiling later, you climb out of bed and feel the coldness hit the bare skin on your legs. You really stepped out of line tonight. Did you just assume you both could pick up where you left off? Obviously forgetting about the trying-to-kill-each-other part for a moment... A splash of cold water hits your face, now in the bathroom you stare into the mirror at your own reflection, wide awake. “It’s complicated”, you mutter faintly and scoff. “No. We are complicated...”.
A true balance - that’s the key. It’s not a weakness. In fact, it even makes you a better SHIELD Agent. But you gotta admit, sometimes emotions and feelings can be damn difficult. Like right now. 
“On my way back. All the intel acquired”, you report over the communication device in your ear. “Almost at the rendezvous point, Coulson”. After a not-so-well-rested night, and plenty of coffee, a new assignment for Agent Romanoff and you was waiting in the morning. With a strictly professional attitude you managed to get through the briefing. Or so you thought, because as always you were not that good at hiding your emotions. Keeping that so-called true balance is easier said than done. Fortunately, it was a pretty standard op, also where the two of you conveniently needed to go separate ways. Maybe we’re not meant to be, thinking back to last night's heated discussion still occupying your mind. Maybe it’s better if we’d go our separate ways, because, like Nat said, we’re both broken. Some things just can’t be fixed...
Too caught up in thoughts, you almost didn’t realize you reached the intersection. Agent Romanoff is not there yet. She’s probably right behind you, as she had to cover a greater distance to get here. After 15 minutes of waiting you’re certain she missed the agreed upon meeting place. However, she can take care of herself, so the question to wait for her or to continue the mission is easily answered. You carry on. And besides, you’ll see her at Headquarters for the debriefing anyway. Right? 
“Agent (Y/L/N), how many minutes out till pickup?”, you receive in your earpiece. “Don’t wait up for me”, you inform calmly, though anyone could hear that you’re slightly out of breath. 
“Excuse me? What do you think you're doing?”
“I took a small detour. Might be a little later”. Well aware you’re disobeying a direct order, but it’s not the first time. And above all, it’s for a specific reason. You would do it again in a heartbeat, because something doesn’t feel right. She should’ve given an update about her status. “I tried her comm, but I couldn’t reach her”, you explain. Whatever goes on in your personal life can’t affect you in the field. Both of you know how to be professionals during work. She knows that. You know that. And that’s why you’re worried. It stays silent on the other end, meaning they already knew her communication device is not working. You continue, “Coulson, could you give me her last known location”. Again, total silence. “I know you can hear me. I’m going after her either way, you can’t stop me. So if you could give me the location of Agent Romanoff it would save a lot of time and the faster I’ll be- no, we will be back”. You recalled Romanoff's route from the briefing this morning, but technically she could be anywhere. A sigh is heard through the static crackling, followed by a definitive answer, “... Okay. I couldn’t change your mind anyway. Before the comm went dark she was last seen near a parking garage, 0.5 kilometers south, in the direction you’re now heading”. “Thank you, sir”.
Your gut-feeling was right, because what you encounter on the ground level is nothing good. Nothing good at all. A rush of adrenaline is taking over all of your senses as you spot them. Bodies. Scattered around. Dead. Bullet holes in concrete pillars and in parked cars that their owners safely left behind, unknowing what would happen today. But no Natasha. You’re starting to regret that fight last night more and more. Out of instinct you grab your gun from the holster and proceed with caution, following the path of destruction. You know she can take care of herself, pretty good actually, but that doesn’t mean the situation hasn’t gotten you worried. “Coulson, something has happened here. I don’t know what, but I’m gonna find out”.
How did they find me? Natasha ponders while landing a brutal elbow on a guy’s temple who thought he could easily take her. That was his first mistake, the same all the others before him made. When the ex-spy turns around, leaving the knocked-out idiot behind her, a gun is pointed at her head. “Never turn your back on enemy, makes you easy target”, he mocks with a thick accent. Then a shot is fired. The guy with accent releases his finger from the trigger and leans forward, landing face-first on the cold cement. A dark red hole in the back of his head. Natasha looks up. Standing in the distance, behind a red station wagon she spots a familiar SHIELD Agent.
“I got your back Nat. Always”. She sends a loving smile your way and starts filling you in. “I got ambushed on my way to you and lost signal on my comm, my guess they’re jamming it, so I decided to take cover here. Not so exposed and easier to conceal myself than out there in the street”. “Copy that. I figured, ran into the same problem with my comm too. And good thinking. How many and who are-”
The conversation is cut short, caused by the sound of metal colliding with metal. No time to talk. Both take a stealth position behind the red coloured vehicle and use hand gestures to make a strategic plan. At Natasha signalling ‘Go’ you both dash to a different side, Glock ready, and shoot until you’ve reached the next parked car. 
You listen to their ongoing discussion as they’ve taken cover too. Who are these people? And what do they want? They appear to be talking in a foreign language. Could it be... Russian? You fire a couple of shots and take a quick peek. Your suspicion is confirmed when you identify one of their weapons. Definitely Russian-made.
3… 2… 1, now! Natasha jumps up and slides over the hood smoothly, kicking the approaching goon in the neck without breaking a sweat. You’ve also jumped up at the rear and deliver a precise hook on your attacker's nose, hearing it crack, and follow up with a powerful uppercut on the chin, launching him backwards. Simultaneously grabbing your own guns, Romanoff and you hit the others in sight until both mags are empty. Words such as 'get that traitor' and 'who’s the other one' are echoing through the large, concrete structure accompanied by multiple footsteps. Guess your Russian remained somewhere in your brain after all. Nice. But first things first, considering you're outnumbered judging by the amount of voices, you both have to get the hell out of here. Squatted and leaning against a blue sedan, out of sight for now, you slide in a new magazine when Romanoff says, “We’ve got to do something before they pin us down”. Several rounds pierce the metal of the sedan and the windows above the two of you explode into tiny glass splinters. As a reaction you lift your arm to protect the face and slam your eyes shut. “Totally agree with you, Nat”, you shout back over the loud gunfire. “Good. Cover me”.
“I got you”, you return and steady your gun to fire multiple rounds at a shiny new BMW where the attack originates from. Romanoff runs as fast as she can and you prevent her from getting shot. Although, you can’t prevent the weapons from being fired and bullets start to snap off the concrete. Luckily, she’s able to evade those meant for her and slides the last couple of meters over the rough floor to her desired spot. Lying on her side on the ground, now shielded by a bulky, black SUV, she observes the four targets along the underside of the vehicle, positive she can hit them. And she does. Eliminating every last one of them, till her final bullet.
It’s gone silent. All the lifeless bodies, not making a single sound anymore. Struck by at least one bullet, but most of them by more. In the meantime you jogged to Natasha and she asks, “I'm out of ammo, you got any?”. “Nope, this one’s empty too”. You make a small wave-motion with your Glock and suddenly spot movement in the corner of your eye. A gun, gripped by a short guy appears from behind a concrete pillar close to the shiny, now heavily damaged car where the others came from seconds ago. Patiently waiting for his perfect moment to strike. Unexpected. Both you and Natasha dive to the ground, desperately searching for cover, knowing damn well there isn’t any. Natasha is faster though, as always, but instead reaches for your ankle, followed by two short pops and a thud, resembling a body hitting the ground. “How did you know I carry a spare gun with me?”. She gives a brief glance. Your past. Have you become too predictable? Or predictable to just Natasha? Maybe that's why you two are such a good team. As long as she doesn’t betray you that is. She has done it before, turning her back on you. No, stop it. She won’t do that. Not again, I know her. Right?
“All clear?”, Natasha sort of asks, snapping you out of thought as she sweeps the surroundings with your spare gun. “Let’s not find out and get away from ‘this’ here”. With the coast clear for the moment, you both go searching for a vehicle - one without a flat tire - and decide to split up. Unfortunately, there are not many cars in the parking lot, so you go a level higher, but abruptly come to a halt.
“Wait! (Y/N), just-”. Natasha pauses. “What’s up?”. Is there something she wants to tell you? Something she should’ve told earlier? 
“Be careful okay”. You look at her confused. Not what you expected. You can handle yourself too, she knows that. Then a smile forms. “You know I always look over my shoulder, right”. Yet your answer doesn’t seem to ease her mind. The expression she has, you've never seen before. The worry in her eyes, it’s as if she’s scared. For what? “Fine, I’ll be careful. But for you the same”. She gives a small nod but still doesn’t look convinced. “Let’s see who can score us a ride the fastest”, you challenge and sprint away.
The SHIELD Agent has found a possible getaway vehicle and smashes the window on the driver side to pieces. No car-alarm, that’s why she chose this one. Jump-starting the old pick-up truck that she is about to borrow and without making too much noise Natasha speeds away in your direction. Or so she thought. After searching for what seems to be the entire parking garage multiple times, there’s no sign of you. Only the engine sound of the truck can be heard, nothing else. No Russian-talking, no gunshots, no screams. Everybody is gone. And so are you.
I won't turn my back on you (Y/N). Not again. Never again, she pledges, clutching the steering wheel so tight that her knuckles have turned white. Already blaming herself for not warning you enough. She only wanted to protect you. Yet, this wouldn’t have happened if she had just told you the truth. Right?    
Natasha closes the door behind her with a loud bang followed by a muffled grunt. Thinking back to the conversation that just went down, if it were to be called a conversation. A lot of shouting and wide arm gestures were involved. And anger. “Are you questioning my ability? Or my loyalty?”, is what she’d said to Director Fury. Yet getting the same response back as before. No. SHIELD won’t send a team, stand down Agent Romanoff. Another grunt manages to escape. “So we are all just expendable operatives to you?”, was her last comment before the Director showed her the door.
“So, that didn't go very well I guess?”, a voice eases. “You guessed right”. She marches away, almost so fast that Barton can’t keep up. “Talk to me Nat, who were those guys again?”. “Some people I knew”. “Ah, old buddies of yours”. “That's one way to describe them”. “Not so friendly, got it”, Clint states, barely able to follow Natasha’s pace. “I need to find Coulson”, she eventually speaks. She doesn’t care about losing her job. All she cares about is getting you back. Whatever it takes.
Something in his features tells Natasha that he already knows. “Is this what I think it is?”, he asks the former spy. “Unresolved family issues”, she answers the SHIELD Agent. Maybe it's a good thing (Y/N) can't remember, she reckons while listening to Barton’s astonishment. “Wait- family?”. “It's complicated”, Natasha responds curtly and turns to Coulson again. “You know there’s nothing I can do Romanoff”, he says. “If the Director won’t approve a rescue mission, then my hands are tied too”. Natasha is about to walk away, constructing what seems to be Plan E at the moment - hijacking a quinjet and hacking every possible camera, database or whatever needed to find your position - when Coulson’s words catch her attention and make her stop in her tracks.
“Off the record, I may have the location of Agent (Y/L/N)”. “What do you mean?”. “You have to understand, we had to take the necessary precautions because of your past”. Natasha finishes his explanation, because she understands what is implied here. “A tracker”. The silent nod of Agent Coulson confirms her statement. “Great. So we both got a tracker. Just great. I’m guessing somewhere underneath our skin, around our ear maybe. Undetectable. Am I close, Phil?”. The tone in her voice is close to blame. It cuts deep. It feels like betrayal. Loyal to SHIELD, but is SHIELD loyal to you? No time to dwell on that however. Maybe even give the guy a bit of credit, now she’s at least able to find you. “I care too, you know. Very much actually. Please, just- bring (Y/N) home, okay”, Coulson says with a low tone, feeling as if he failed to protect his own Agent. His responsibility. “Good luck, Agent Romanoff”. 
“Count me in”, Barton offers as he managed to track Natasha’s sprint towards the elevator. “What?”. “Let's save (Y/N). I’m in”. “But I thought that you guys weren’t speaking, that you hate each-”. “Keep up Nat, we had some beers and what’s in the past is in the past”, Clint interjects. She stares at her friend for a moment, “...Okay”, and accepts. “Then let’s go”. The doors open and both get in. “We’ll get (Y/L/N) back”, Clint reassures as he places a hand on Natasha’s shoulder while waiting inside the elevator. “I just- I can’t lose…”. She doesn’t finish her sentence, preventing a trembling voice from being heard. “I know, Nat. Me too. But you do have a plan, right?”. “Of course I do. Plan H. Let’s pay my old pals an unexpected visit they won’t ever forget”.
Waking up. Disoriented. A sharp pain originates from the back of your neck when you try to lift your head up. Earpiece gone. Weapons gone. And hands zip-tied against the back of a firm, metal chair. Ankles secured too. Very, very tight. They’re thorough, you have to give them that. You carefully look around, a dimly lit, chilly, abandoned warehouse. The windows covering the high ceiling are barely providing any sunlight to pass through, coated by layers of filth. Seriously in need of a proper cleaning. Which basically applies to this entire grimy place. Long overdue. It’s better to just demolish the ghost property into a pile of useless bricks - with your abductors still in it. Well, one can wish. A cold shiver passes through your spine. Why not some central heated motel room of sorts? Guess that’s not how the KGB does things. Counting three grumpy, square-shouldered guards watching over you. Maybe more behind, you don’t know, they’re out of your field of vision. The eyes of the three in sight are burning right through you, definitely not thinking friendly thoughts. What do they want with me? Are they after SHIELD intel? Or do they want to settle an old score? Meaning, I’m dead.
Someone enters. An officer it seems, judging by the uniform. He appears overly confident. Full of himself. Someone who uses others to do the dirty work for him. Because he can. Though, he seems more than capable of committing horrible acts to a human being without even feeling a pinch of remorse. At the sight of him your heart starts beating faster, throbbing against your chest. A wave of pure rage flows over you. Why? Maybe it's his attitude that you don’t like, seeing that the other men are afraid of him. Or simply because he's the reason that you're here.
“Tying off loose ends? Shouldn’t have gone through all that trouble”, you mock, sitting straight up and squaring your shoulders, meanwhile trying to find a way to break free from those zip-ties that are eagerly digging into your skin. He laughs. “Kill you?”. With a small wave of his hand the now less crouchy, more anxious-looking guards lower their guns which were cravingly pointed at you this whole time. “That’s what you guys do with traitors right?”. He laughs again and a stern expression surfaces. “It hurts you’d ever think I would do such a thing to you”. To me? What the hell does that mean? You stop moving your arms. It seems as if he recognizes you, as the other men around also seem to. Not that strange considering you’ve been a KGB operative once, but you obviously don’t recognize them. Not even your own dad.
“I'm certain (Y/N) is still alive”. “How so?”. “You really want to know Barton?”, she requests over the loud mechanical humming, giving him a choice before there’s no turning back. A positive nod from Barton made Romanoff begin. As clear and concise as possible she explains her past, starting in the Red Room. “One day a new ‘recruit’ arrived, only a few years older than the rest of us girls. An outsider. Everybody would think twice before engaging. But I didn’t. We stuck together through it all, trying to survive, and became inseparable”. Clint notices the pain in her eyes. She continues and tells that after spending time together, you began to trust each other. You’d told her about the life before, because you, apart from the others, remembered. That your dad was a fierce man working for the KGB, probably the reason why everyone avoided you. Afraid of you, but especially for your dad. “I suspect that (Y/N)’s mother is the reason why she turned on the KGB later on, knowing all too well what the consequences were”. “Why?”, Barton asks, who until now hasn’t spoken a word and is listening attentively. “Well, the KGB officer didn’t deserve the-father-of-the-year award by a long shot. He was an abusive man. A monster. So one night they ran away, (Y/N) and her mom, who was a real angel in living form”. Natasha clearly has respect for the woman, yet she hadn’t had a chance to meet her. “But it didn’t last and he caught up to them. Taking (Y/N) to the Red Room Academy to fuel all the anger coiled up inside, to turn it into something they could exploit”. “Anger? What anger? You just told me (Y/N)’s mother raised her well, good conscience and everything”. “Because-”. Natasha pauses and swallows the lump that has formed in her throat. “Because the father shot her loving mom for taking his child away. Killed, in cold-blood, right in front of the poor kid”, she says as her voice cracks. “And now he learned that his lost child is somehow very much alive and well. So I doubt he’d kill (Y/N), who by the way doesn't have a clue”, she points out ashamed and thereby wrapping up the story. Clint probably has more questions, which Natasha won’t answer, not at this moment anyway. She looks outside through the small, square window. “Besides, it's me who they want to kill. At least, he wants that”. “Wh- And you're telling me this now?! The moment we're about to storm the place, just the two of us?!”, Barton shouts out. “Told you it was complicated”. Romanoff secures the harness she’s wearing and slides the door open. “It's time”.
The uncleaned glass ceiling breaks into a hundred pieces and scatters on the dirty ground below, finally letting the bright warm sunlight in. Eyes closed for protection, you hear the whirring of a helicopter. Something drops down through the roof, guns entering first, secured to a rope and accompanied by multiple shots. Well, that sure as hell is one way to make an entrance.
After mowing down the guards - of which there were apparently six of - she makes a perfect landing on the metal chair located in the middle of the room where you happen to be sitting on and unhooks the rope. Staring into a pair of green eyes you tease, “Took you long enough”. The redhead grins and moves even closer which sends a ripple of pure energy through you. “Sit still for me”, she whispers in your ear and cuts all the zip-ties with her knife in three, quick movements, freeing you. “Oh, for the record, I had it totally under control over here”, you confidently state while rubbing the red, painful skin on your wrists. “Is that your way of thanking me?”, she returns with raised eyebrows and rests her arms on your shoulders while you put yours around her waist firmly. “Nah, I actually had something else in mind”. “Hmm, that sounds more like it”. Both leaning forward, about to properly thank your rescuer, but seem to have forgotten you're not in complete privacy. “Care to do this some other time?”, Barton interrupts flatly, throwing a Glock your way as the two of you quickly got up from the chair - saving it for later. “Thanks for being here”, you say, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “Don’t mention it. You would do the same for me”. He hands you something else. “This might come in handy too”, something he and Natasha already slipped on as an extra precaution, “you already got enough scars, no need for more”. “You know Barton, I heard ex-assassins dig scars”, you reply while connecting the velcro straps of the bulletproof vest he gave you to protect your torso. Natasha grins. “Real cute”, then replaces that mesmerizing grin for a serious expression.
“I won’t ever turn my back on you. Never again, you hear me”, Natasha voices just before the action’s about to start. You send her a quick hand kiss and silently mouth, I know, while aiming at the rusty doors that are about to open.
More KGB assholes start to flood the old warehouse space from two entrances thrown open with force, alerted by the sound of broken glass and gunshots. What they don’t know is that the SHIELD Agents have taken cover, hitting the handful by surprise. A shoot-out goes down until the first men are able to reach your hiding ground. Barton and you start to throw brutal punches while Romanoff uses her widow bites, jamming her charged fists into the attackers.
“I’ll go sweep the rest of the warehouse”, Barton states after picking up a rifle from someone who doesn’t need it anymore as the three of you are currently the only people not unconscious, or dead, in this part of the building. “I’ll join and take that way”, you state and grab a new weapon too, whereas Natasha answers, “I’ll find us a vehicle. Be sure to meet me this time okay”. You grin. “I’ll do my best, Nat”.
After searching half of the unconscious, or dead men on the ground, she’s about to hit the jackpot. A set of car-keys. But before she can get a hold of it, she hears a sound. She's not alone anymore. “Natalia, so nice of you to join”, someone says, “or should I say, Black Widow?”, accompanied by a set of footsteps becoming louder. Without turning around she speaks, “Yeah I wish it were under different circumstances, like you six feet under with me holding the shovel”. He laughs. “How thoughtful of you”. “Guess your men weren’t that thoughtful, they might have underestimated me”. Still her back turned towards the person speaking to her, continuing her search meticulously. “I know they underestimated you. Something I would never do, Natalia”. The sound of a gun close to her loading up for its next shot made her spin around. Car-keys in one hand, her Glock in the other.
Someone is pointing a weapon, but hesitates to pull the trigger. Like she also had, merely one time before. “Why aren’t you doing something?!”, you shout at the KGB officer in anger, a steady grip on the gun handle. He isn’t even defending himself. The three of you positioned in a triangle, you look at the man claiming to be your dad and then to the person you love who stares at you with worried eyes. “It’s okay (Y/N). You don’t have to do this”, Natasha eases, but it doesn’t calm you down. She sees the hatred burning in your dark, dilated pupils. It’s strange, you don’t know who this man is, or what he did, but he makes every fiber in your body scream. There's so much pent-up rage. And yet, nothing happens. The trigger isn’t moving. “So? What are you waiting for?! Do something!”, you shout again, noticing the gun quivering in your hands. He shakes his head. “You’d always let emotions get the best of you. It’s weak. But I wouldn't kill my own child, you know that”, he answers calmly, looking at you. “And what about the mother of your own child?”, Natasha says accusingly. “What? My… mom?”, you speak softly, even more confused, and meet Natasha's sorrowful eyes.
He laughs once more. The evilness in it makes Natasha shiver. “Love is for children. It's pathetic. And traitors…”, in a flash of a second he grabs his pistol, “we all know what happens to a traitor”, and aims. It's not a regular weapon. Not like the ones his men were using. He probably kept the best for himself. Selfish bastard. Regardless if you remember him or not, he isn't aiming at his own child. No. Following the barrel’s trajectory your eyes stop at the sight of another barrel. A Glock held by a beautiful redhead now less than two meters away. Oh shit...  
Two shots are fired, and two people hit the cracked, cemented floor. It all happened so fast. One of them deserved it a long time ago. The KGB officer, your cruel father. Dead. And the other one… Meanwhile Barton made his way back, having cleared the whole building but freezes when he enters. With an open mouth he stares, speechless, and his eyes getting watery. It wouldn't have been a problem and led to this outcome if the now dead officer had used any of the other guns here present. Yet, the rounds from his pistol were not standard. These were able to pierce one’s body armor. Your body armor.
“Don't leave me. No... Not again. Not now. I just got you back…”, Natasha says hoarsely, fighting back tears and holding you in her arms. Her recently fired gun now next to her on the cold ground. A tear rolls down her cheek and she presses her soft lips on your forehead. After the delicate kiss she whispers,
“I love you. Till next time, (Y/N)...” 
PART 8       
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Tags: @5aftermidnight​​​, @ohfuckno​​​
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neighborhoodmoonchild · 5 years ago
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ᾰ̓γᾰ́πη - Pt. III
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Pairing(s): Cursed!Seokjin x Reader
Genre(s): Fantasy Au, Fluff, Soulmate Au, Angst
Summary: “There’s a story whispered around here. One surrounding the beautifully carved statue of a man at the center of the town. Legend says that when the hand of his true love graces his palm, he shall wake from his cursed marbled slumber. It’s always been a silly old wives tale, until you give in to a friend’s dare.” (prompt idea from writing-prompt-s)
Warning(s): mild language
Word Count: 3.7k (oops)
Part I, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, …
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“It’s also a pleasure to finally see you again, Althaia,” Seokjin adds after a not at all awkward pause while Mira swiftly prepared an herbal tea meant to relax her noticeably uncomfortable guests. Looking over the rim of your cup as you took a long sip, your eyes darted from the man now sitting at the table across from you to the woman seated to your right.
He was watching her intently as she swirled her spoon around her cup, lightly agitating the liquid to blend the honey she always added. She once told you she’s not one for bitterness, and because she could never find the perfect blend sweet enough on its own, honey would have to suffice.
A long, dramatic sigh accompanied her look of disinterest.
“I’m quite surprised, though you don’t seem to be.” Again, your gaze flitted between the two, unsure of what to make of the situation. Mira didn’t seem bothered at all, almost as if this whole thing was something she expected, or at least, knew might be coming.
Why was she not correcting him? Insisting he must be mistaken; her name is Mira, not...not Althaia or whatever he said. And how could he insinuate he knows her in any way? He’s been a statue since before you were even born and Mira is only a few years older than you.
Mira had remained quiet, content as Seokjin waited for any kind of response. It would make more sense if she had outright denied his accusations, shut him down and insist a mistake had been made. Instead, she slowly moved her attention from her earlier ministrations, softly gazing upon you for a brief moment, then turning to him.
“I honestly didn’t think you’d remember me after all this time, let alone be able to recognize me, Mr. Kim.” Her voice was low and calm, calculated as she mulled over just how to address the situation to come. Something about the tone of her voice didn’t sit right with you. This was no longer the slightly agitating neighbor you’d grown fond of.
This person next to you was entirely different.
In the deepest part of her being, Mira knew it from the moment she met you that things were finally changing.
“What do you mean ‘remember?’” you piped up over the silent stare down the two had unconsciously engaged in. At an utter loss, your mind had taken the small bits of information provided to try and come to some sort of viable conclusion, but to no avail. Perhaps your mind was still processing your own dilemma, and you couldn’t afford to lend any brain power to this situation, or maybe it was just too far-fetched to even fathom.
Now, the two stared at you as if you were some poor, pathetic creature or a doll made of porcelain. Pitiful was one way to put it and it made your insides clench and churn, the situation all too reminiscent of a lamb about to be sacrificed to the slaughter. Eerie how suddenly you were the only one without a clue and it didn’t help that it now felt as if you were seated next to two strangers and not just one.
After the two continued in an annoyingly cryptic battle of stares, almost prodding the other to speak first, you decide the time for silence and secrets is officially over. Slapping two hands on the oak table as you shoot from your seat, the crack of skin on wood makes them fully focus on you. Not even bothering to look either one in the face, you let out a hefty sigh and close your eyes, mind suddenly battling an intensely growing migraine.
“Look, I don’t know whatever ‘this’,” hands waving between the two of them, “is, but I’m tired and done. With everything. Feel free to settle this on your own, I’m going home.”
Before you could even make it 5 steps from your seat, the slightly ajar front door slams shut...on its own. Like a lone wind had decided to fiercely bound though the opening, or more fittingly, a spirit decided to trap you inside.
“The hell was that?” You mumbled to yourself as you cautiously approached the door, afraid it may come suddenly to life, considering the day you’d had.
As your hand curled around the cool metal knob, you heard someone rise from their seat, “Wait, Y/N, just stay and let...let me explain.”
Swiveling your head around enough to see Mira standing firmly by her chair, a scared expression on her face, the atmosphere shifted. It set you off, igniting a sense of, you’re not sure, maybe fear, within you. Something wasn’t right. Nothing about this whole situation felt right.
“I can’t do this. I don’t know what’s going on, but it doesn’t feel right. I can’t be here...with you.” You weren’t sure what exactly was triggering this flight response within you. Not once in your time knowing her had Mira ever done anything for you to react this way towards her, but today, with her pushing you to touch the statue, to the odd sense of familiarity between Seokjin and her, to the strange aura suddenly radiating off her, it was all too much.
Your senses were overloading. Too much had transpired and you’d not been given enough time to properly digest anything. Going from a relatively boring life to one suddenly plagued by some kind of weird magic, sorcery, whatever it was, in the span of a few hours is too much.
The migraine you’d been fighting was on the cusp of becoming a full fledged breakdown.
Ignoring the protests of the two behind you, again your body moved towards the door, handle turning a fraction of an inch before everything stopped.
Seconds, maybe minutes you stared at the slab of wood. Not a muscle moved, like your entire body was paralyzed, only slow shallow breaths could escape the numb confines of your lips. As if you no longer controlled the only vessel with which you solely could. You were a marionette, controlled by invisible strings.
And then all at once, a warm tingly feeling seeped through your veins, bringing with it the sweet taste of freedom. Nerves alight, muscles contracting, you finally had your body back.
But with this came the intense fear of the whole situation. Every other thought within you was gone, mind shut down, body going into lockdown mode, syphoning your remaining energy into getting away.
Away from whatever this strange new danger was.
Slowly, cautiously, prey reacting to predator, you turned your body back to the table.
It hurt. Hurt to look at them. To look at her.
At first, a part of your mind jumped straight to blaming the newcomer, but deep in your soul, you knew.
She looked pained, as if she hadn’t just defiled you in some unbelievable and terrifying way. Like she had instead been the one to somehow become nothing but a husk reduced to a master’s bidding.
The questions of how and why were disregarded for a greater purpose, saving yourself from whatever was happening and preventing it from ever happening again.
How dare someone you trusted, cared for, looked up to, do whatever that hell that was to you, a friend, even for the fleeting moments she did.
The blood in your body was now cold, face pale and painted with such a deep look of betrayal you could feel the guilt radiate from her being.
“Y/N.. I-“
“Don’t.”
You didn’t even breathe when she flinched at the steel tone of your voice. This was all too much. This whole day was entirely too much. You needed to get away from this, from them, and you needed to do it now.
She knew what she’d done. Not only had she lied to you your entire friendship, but she’d hurt you in a way that shouldn’t be humanely possible. Panicked in her efforts to come clean to you, protect you, and protect herself, she’d acted too quickly, doing something she’d swore never to do again. It was one thing to keep secrets, but another to use them against someone.
Seokjin forgotten, you briskly made your exit, making sure they couldn’t see as the tears fell.
————
“If I see one more walk by, I’m going out there and beating the shit out of them,” you mutter to yourself halfheartedly underneath the comfort of the blanket fort you’d built in the living room.
After spending a few days trying to piece yourself back together, you’d decided the best course of action was: avoidance. Within the tiny walls of your home, you could stay cooped up in a safe space and forget everything that happened. Statue man could stay with her and you could go on with your life, without the both of them.
It seemed do-able at first, spending an unhealthy amount of time in bed, watching movies, the occasional brief call with your mother, but it of course couldn’t stay that way.
You’d been naive enough to think that the town would go back to normal, find something new to obsess over and forget all about you and the stupid statue.
Oh, how wrong you’d been.
Suddenly your house was like an attraction for everyone. As soon as the sun rose, you’d catch a few faces passing by your windows, just outside the front gate. There they’d sit for a few minutes, gawk and gossip, and eventually leave, and be replaced by a new set of oglers ready for a show.
You weren’t afraid of the attention, just miffed that your plan to lay low and be alone failed from the beginning.
Despite the annoyance from the nosy town folk, you were grateful that it had only been them, and not two other faces outside.
Watching the last of the group of young girls get bored and disperse from your window, you turn your attention back to the movie on your screen. As the characters moved and music played in the background, you forced yourself to try and focus on that. Instead, thoughts of Kim Seokjin and your friend weasel their way in over the noise.
What were they doing? Were they thinking of a way to fix things with you? Had they forgotten about you and moved on? How did she even do that in the first place? And what is the whole backstory between them?
The questions tore you up inside, fighting with the stubborn part of you that wanted to forget them completely. The other downside to isolating yourself was the immense amount of free time to think about everything that’s happened. It was a nightmare going over everything, every single bit that made no sense, bits and pieces not adding up in any way you could understand.
Just a few days ago you were a normal girl living life in a boring town fighting with your friend over the legitimacy of a town legend.
She was your only friend, the only person who listened, who understood. Could you forgive her for what she did? It was quite obvious she’d been keeping things from you, but for how long, and why? And Seokjin, your soulmate, how are you supposed to love someone you don’t know, who’s probably lived a whole life before yours even began?
If he is your soulmate, why didn’t he stop her? Did he feel the pain you did when you were robbed of your own self? How could he see you in such distress and not do anything? Why hadn’t it scared him as much as it had you? What parts of Mira’s hidden past was he privy to that you were not?
Perhaps you were putting too much onto the whole soulmates thing. After all, how could you expect a stranger to assert himself into such a personal thing, even considering the circumstances. When it all comes down to it, soulmate or not, Kim Seokjin is an outsider, an alien to you.
He is no more a part of your life than the nosy towns people, the visiting tourists, or the migrating birds. You don’t owe him anything, and he you.
The only thing you could wish for him right now, is to go about his own life and not force himself into yours.
Pillow clutched unknowingly tight to your chest, grounding yourself, you couldn’t help the dull ache in your heart. That was the only thing you would allow yourself to chalk up to the soulmate thing. Maybe one day, like them, you’d be able to ignore it too.
Movie long abandoned, you trudged your way back and forth, pacing across the wooden floorboards like a caged animal. You were desperate to get out, see the stars, breathe in the fresh air, but your body was still afraid of what leaving these four walls might incur. Whether you were ready to face them or not, you couldn’t sit there and drive yourself insane any longer.
The sun had set hours ago, the light from the moon casting a hazy white glow over the landscape, and you were desperate for even just a second to bask in it.
Grabbing a light jacket to fend off the chilly night air, you brace yourself, hand wrapped tightly around the door knob, and take a deep breathe.
Now that you were truly thinking about it, it must look overly pathetic from an outsider’s perspective. You’d been holed up in your home for four days now, only peeking suspiciously through your windows to glare at the onlookers and then returning to a pitiful mope-fest with only one attendee; you.
You owed it to yourself to snap out of it, move on, and go back to life as normally as possible. The only thing you could control was yourself. It doesn’t matter what others do or don’t do, you need to do what you can, for you.
And right now, that’s enjoying some fresh night air and being brave.
Taking that first step out onto the front porch is what you imagine the first astronaut on the moon must’ve felt. The most mundane of things became a huge feat, and you weren’t about to ruin it for yourself, no matter how silly it seemed.
Looking out across the street, the sidewalk empty and streetlights dim, it was like you were finally yourself again. The stars above and the moon shining bright made the first smile in days appear.
All of the worries, the questions, the bitterness lifted away by a light breeze, the clouds in your head dispersed and you had the sudden urge to forgive. All your life you’d been quick to judge and draw conclusions, but something within you told you there was more to this than meets the eye. You needed the truth.
Like fate had been keeping a close eye, your attention was drawn to the figure making its way along the outside of your fence line. The long dark hair caused a breathe to catch in your throat, and you were suddenly questioning if you were really were ready to face things.
She stopped just before the gate, head looking up and catching your eyes with her own.
Hesitating, she clears her throat, “I...I didn’t think you’d be up.”
Watching as her hands lifted up, you spot the neat paper bag tucked within her palms.
Still afraid to say anything, not trusting yourself to stay calm and collected, she continues.
“He’s been asking a lot about you. I wanted to do something...to apologize.”
She pauses, waiting to see if you’d run away or tell her to leave, but when you nod in the direction of the bag, she finishes, “I showed him how to make your favorite cookies. But I thought it be best if just I came to drop them off. I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”
Arms protectively crossed over your chest, you take another deep breath and slowly descend the porch on step at a time. Instead of meeting her at the gate, you plant firmly in the grass.
“Why?”
It sounded choked coming out and you hated that. Not only did you not want to seem weak in front of her, you didn’t want her to think you hated her. The only thing you want is the truth. She owes you that much.
Mira fidgets a moment and returns her attention to you, not quite in the eyes, but it’s close enough.
“I didn’t mean to-I just-“ Tripping over her words, not exactly sure how to begin or where to go, you stop her quickly.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Finally meeting your eyes, she sees the strength you’ve managed to muster up, sees that twinge of forgiveness at the helm and realizes it’s now or never.
“I’ve wanted to explain everything, I just wasn’t sure how to go about it.”
“So instead you instigate me to break some curse you already somehow knew I’d be able to, pretend to be someone your not this entire time, and somehow posses me and take away my free will?”
The look of shame that melted onto her face struck a chord of guilt deep in your soul, but this was something you had to do. For too long you let others have free reign, it was time to take control.
“I wasn’t sure if you could handle it, or even believe me in the first place...”
“And how am I supposed to ever believe you now? I don’t even know who you really are, what you are...”
Tension building quickly in the cool air, things were becoming muddled. You weren’t even sure what you were pushing for, a confession? A secret so dark and unbelievable it was grounds enough to hide from you for as long as you were friends.
“I’m a witch.” There’s a long pause. You both stand there, staring at each other, unsure of who’s to make the next move. Mira’s afraid she’s just divulged her dangerous secret to someone who can’t handle it, and you’re afraid you’ve officially lost your mind.
“I know I sound like an old record player by now, but maybe we should take this somewhere more,” she pauses to look around the darkness cautiously, sending a shiver down your spine, “private?”
————
Turns out cookies at 2 in the morning are a good way to smooth over the confessions of the magical past of your only friend. Not going to lie, you’d taken plenty of breaks to try and absorb and process the incredible amount of information Mira, or formerly known as Althaia in the late 1800s, if you can believe it, had to unload on you. In her defense, you’d pushed her quite hard to open up and be 100% honest with you.
“So, you just...change your appearance and house every few centuries and pretend to be someone else?” Rubbing your head to ease the growing headache as you mindlessly shoved another cookie in your mouth, you felt like a little kid asking an adult really strange questions that shouldn’t have a serious answer.
Mira nods, wrapping her hands around the mug of coffee you made her and taking a sip.
“And you knew Seokjin when he was alive, well, in his own time, before he turned into a statue?”
She cringes a bit and it catches your attention, “About that...”
-
“You mean, you’re the one that cursed him?!?” It was probably the hundredth time you’d asked her that in the past half hour, but you couldn’t help it, you suddenly felt like you were going crazy, trapped in some bad supernatural rom-com or something. 
Sighing loudly enough to voice her growing impatience with you, she nodded, “Yes, for the millionth time. I put the curse on Kim Seokjin.”
“Well, why?” Resting your chin in your palms, eyes wide like a child, you prayed further. You just couldn’t understand why on Earth she’d curse him in the first place. Even if she is a witch, what could have warranted him to invoke a curse? And why this particular curse?
“Well, it’s not really my story to tell...”
Holding true to your childish theme growing in this conversation, you pouted, bottom lip sticking out and leaning forward on the table, “But you cursed him, how is not yours to tell?”
Mira only shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips at your antics. You’d only shown your stubborn side like this to her on few occasions, and it made her laugh at how you could be so apathetic one minute and youthfully enthusiastic the next.
“True, but there’s much more to it than it seems. Besides, I think it’s time you both get together, talk, and figure things out.”
Your silent for a moment, fighting another pout and mulling over her words. Then suddenly, it hits you.
“Well, if you’re the one who cursed him, you can break our soulmate bond too, right?”
Her grin morphs into a neutral line, lips curled in. Like she’s trying to think of the best way to let you down.
“The thing is, I only enacted the curse. The means to break it were decided by fate, not me.” The look of disappointment that washed over you couldn’t help but bring a prick of guilt from the witch.
She’d invoked the curse reluctantly to help another, and now she was hurting someone again. If she could go back, maybe she’d have done differently.
Silence again stretched out between the both of you. It was one thing when it was some folk lore from town, but now knowing the truth, and knowing it is all very real and unavoidable; unfix-able, it’s a harder pill to swallow.
“Do you,” you squeak softly, eyes trained on the floor, “do you think we can actually do this? That I can do this?”
Mira’s hand reaches across the table to softly grasp your own. Despite your protests, a small tear slips from the corner of your eye, and you rush to brush it away.
“I’m scared.”
“Scared of what?” Even though she understands, she wants to hear you say it, for yourself to hear it.
“Of being tied to a stranger forever. Forced to be with someone I may not ever fall in love with...”
“To possibly fall for someone who’s forced to be bound to me forever, who may never truly love me back.”
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A.N., 
 Not going to lie, writing this portion was like pulling teeth. I’m not 100% happy with how it turned out, but in order to progress the way I want, I needed some things cleared up first. Now that we know Mira’s little secret, how will Y/N and her’s dynamic change? How will Seokjin fit into Y/N’s life and this new world? I promise, Y/N x Jinnie shenanigans are coming in the next part! 
 -Moonie🌙
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onewaywardwitch · 6 years ago
Text
Just A Typo (4/?)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Hacker!Reader
Summary: It was a simple challenge between a very competitive group of friends. A challenge that ended very differently than anticipated.
Warnings: None 
Word Count: 2172
A/N: Okay okay, I’m sooo sorry! I know this is super late but I’ve been studying trying to study for exams I have over the next two weeks. So I probably won’t get to post anymore of this series until after my exams, but hopefully I’ll have more regular updates from then on! Also, this is more of a filler chapter and an introduction to the relationships I’m hoping to develop further. But I promise it’ll get more interesting in the next part if you bear with me!
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I stumbled up the stairs towards my apartment, my mind still hazy from the exciting and unpredictable events of the day. When Tony, as he insisted I called him, demanded I get a lift to my apartment instead of walking, I didn’t dare argue. He was adamant I got home safely, and I wasn’t going to turn down any excuse to get home to a bottle of wine quickly.
It took me a minute to open the door. I was beginning to get frustrated that the key wouldn’t turn, before I realised I had the wrong key in the lock. I grumbled to myself and finally managed to open the door with the right key this time.
Unfortunately, my plans to drink myself into next week vanished when I fell back after Becca launched her miniature frame at me.
“We were so worried! We came over to celebrate all over again, then that old hag Nora was blabbering on about how the great Captain America was in her apartments and we just knew something had happened. Oh god, did they threaten you? Torture you? Did you meet Black Widow?”
I had to pry Becca’s arms off me to make my way into my apartment. Angie was sitting at the table clutching another mug of green tea. When she saw me her eyes lit up and a smile slowly found it's way onto her face.
“Not going to lie, Y/N, we thought you were a goner,” she commented, hugging me as she made her way to the press behind me and took out a bottle of wine. Becca nodded furiously, clearly in agreement with Angie’s words while I gave her a grateful smile, taking the glass of red she was handing me.
Angie placed a hand on my shoulder and steered me towards the table. The three of us sat down and they both stared at me as I downed the contents of the glass, silently asking for a refill.
“Anytime you’re ready,” Becca said sarcastically, her caring demeanour dropped now that she saw I was actually still breathing.
I started at the beginning, telling them how I met Captain America and Sergeant Barnes while singing Bohemian Rhapsody. When they heard how the Tony Stark asked me to hack into his system and I demanded a pack of gummy bears, they couldn’t help but let out a laugh.
“Let me get this straight,” Becca grinned. “The Avengers basically kidnapped you and Tony Stark told you to redo the illegal thing that got you into that situation in the first place, and you told them to get you sweets?”
“Well when you put it like that it sounds ridiculous,” I retorted. “He didn’t ask about it, he just sent someone off to go get my food. He was definitely impressed with me.”
“How are you so sure about that?” Angie asked suspiciously, knowing there was something else I wasn’t telling them.
“Call me crazy, but I don’t think he would offer me a job if he didn’t think I was any good.”
Their reaction was immediate and exactly what I was hoping for. Angie nearly choked on her tea. Becca’s eyes were bulging out of her head and she unexpectedly whacked me on the arm.
“Hey!” I burst out, rubbing the now sore spot while glaring at my ‘friend’. “What was that for?”
“You should have led with that!” she exclaimed, Angie nodding furiously beside her.
“It was pretty sudden. I was hoping to just get off scot-free. A job offer was definitely not planned. But he liked what I did. And you’re now looking at the new security analyst of Stark Industries.”
The girls listened on in awe as I explained what happened after Tony came back into that interrogation room once he had offered me the job. I told them how he took me on a tour around the tower, informing me that he had already run a thorough background check on me before even entering the same room as me. He told me there was no one better to protect their systems than the only person who managed to beat it, and I couldn’t help but appreciate his logic behind that statement.
“One question,” Angie said once I had finished reciting my tale. “How did they find you?”
I laughed nervously and rubbed the back of my neck, refusing to meet either of their inquisitive eyes. I was hoping they wouldn’t ask that. It was one of the first things I brought up when Tony had showed me around the labs of the Tower, and I was horrified when he admitted I had made the smallest of typos when leaving their system. It wasn’t an uncommon mistake for people whose jobs or hobbies revolved around computers, but to have made that mistake when hacking into Stark Industries? That was embarrassing.
“It's pretty funny, actually.” I gave the pair a small smile, knowing that while Angie would get over it quickly, Becca would hold this over my head for as long as she possibly could. “My finger may have slipped when I was trying to stop them from finding my IP address and… and the smallest of typos may have been made.”
I scowled at the grin that stretched across Becca’s face.
“You? You made a typo? The great Y/N Y/L/N screwed up at the only thing she’s good at? This is the greatest day of my life! Sure, Hammer Industries isn’t as advanced as Stark’s, but at least I didn’t mess it up- hey!”
“Oops,” I shrugged as Becca ducked quickly, the book I threw at her narrowly missing her head.
Angie chuckled at our antics when Becca hurled the book back at me in retaliation.
~~~~~
The water was far hotter than I normally had it, but I needed it that way. There was something almost soothing about showering with water that nearly burned your skin off and left you red all over.
How ironic.
Angie and Becca took nearly two hours to leave. As much as I enjoyed their company, I was grateful when they finally decided to go home and leave me alone with my thoughts. I rested my head against the tiles of the shower wall that were in desperate need of replacing. My mind was racing, going a mile a minute, refusing to allow to me to hold to one thought for more than a few seconds. It had been a hectic day. I went from excited, to beyond petrified, then overwhelmed all within the space of a few hours.
Tony’s tour wasn’t all great. Sure, the labs and building itself were incredible, but I got an overall sense of disapproval from most of the people I met there. The regular staff were wary around me. It wasn’t like Tony ever showed people around the tower who weren’t, in some way, a danger. The Avengers themselves had varying reactions to my presence. From the Falcon’s judgemental stare, to Black Widow’s clear distaste for me already. Tony wasn’t impressed with their welcome in the slightest. But I understood why they acted as they did. I had breached their privacy, seen them in their most vulnerable state. I'm sure it's not something they were used to feeling.
There were only a few people I met who didn’t act as if I was threat. Dr Banner had returned to the lab after he had left the viewing room of where I was interrogated. He had greeted me with only slight apprehension, which I believe is just his reaction to meeting anyone new.
Steve, as he begged me to call him when I repeatedly called him the full title of Captain America, had given me a warm smile when Tony first took me out of the room I was first kept in. I knew he didn’t fully trust me, it would have been ridiculous if he had. But his friendly look gave me a bit more confidence to get through the rest of an already hectic day.
It was Sergeant Barnes response which left me most confused. He had come into the kitchen where Tony and I were discussing the responsibilities of my new job over a steaming mug of hot chocolate, a black coffee for Tony.
He froze when he noticed us sitting there. I gave him a friendly wave, hoping to make up for my earlier comment about magnets. It didn’t seem to work. Instead of getting whatever he came in for, he took a few steps backwards before leaving the room, nearly walking into the door frame with the speed he was walking with.
I shifted in my seat awkwardly, and Tony must have sensed my unease.
“Look, I wouldn’t worry too much about the rest of the team. They’re not exactly the most trusting bunch. You did scare us a bit, we’ve never had a hacking issue before. It’ll take them a while to get used to you, but they will.”
It was strange to see Tony Stark like this. The billionaire I was so used to seeing on the TV as he made comments on his own brilliance was a whole lot less egotistical than I had assumed. The actual Tony I met was still snarky and quick-witted, but not nearly as full of himself as I previously thought. He just seemed to appreciate anyone who could counter his brain in any possible way, and luckily for me, my knowledge of computers matched his own.
“How do you even know you can trust me?” I asked him, my eyes flickering back to the door where Barnes had quickly scurried away from me.
“You don’t exactly strike me as the ‘black market’ kind of hacker. And you’re a terrible liar,” he chuckled, constantly studying me for any signs that he was wrong.
Nodding at his words, we finished our drinks in a comfortable silence, before Tony gestured for me to follow him so we could finish the tour I was promised.
~~~~~
Bucky was an ex-assassin. He was an Avenger who used to be one of the scariest men alive. So why was some woman with a laptop making him feel like a teenage boy with a stupid crush?
It was ridiculous. He hadn’t even had a conversation with her. Yet, he told himself. He had never believed in love at first sight, and he still didn’t. He just happened to find this particular woman more interesting than most others he met.
He wondered what it was about Y/N Y/L/N. Her smile, perhaps? Or the way she still managed to crack jokes when faced with Earth’s Mightiest Heroes? Whatever it was, it was making Bucky feel incredibly uncomfortable.
He felt his ears go red when he thought about how he had run off from her in the kitchen. He wanted to greet her, tell her that he was glad to see that she hadn’t completely freaked out about her situation yet. Unfortunately, his feet seemed to work a lot faster than his mouth did, and he nearly crashed straight into the door frame.
She hadn’t laughed at him, though. He was grateful for that, but she probably though he was an idiot. He thought he was an idiot.
~~~~~
“I don’t trust her,” Nat stated once Tony sent Y/N back to her apartment with the promise of a job starting on Monday. The group were gathered in the briefing room again. Discussing Y/N. Again.
Nat’s comment had caused everyone to start speaking over each other, all of them trying to have their opinion of the new employee heard by the rest. Sam still harboured some ill-feelings towards her after being sent on a food run and was trying to convince Tony to rethink his decision. Tony was having none of it, but he was failing miserably at getting anyone to listen to him. That’s when Bucky stepped in.
“You might not like her, but Tony’s got a point.”
Everyone looked at Bucky in surprise, especially Tony. It wasn’t a secret that they didn’t have the best relationship. Tony hadn’t entirely forgiven Bucky for what had happened to his parents, and Bucky hadn’t forgiven himself either. Before anyone else could butt in, he continued.
“If someone with a laptop could hack into us pretty quick, how long would it take Hydra with all their equipment? If word of this gets out, we’ll be in trouble. We need her. Whether we like it or not.”
Not even Sam had a smart-ass remark lined up after Bucky’s little speech. He was a man of few words, so when he spoke for longer, people tended to listen. The team quickly realised that their argument was pointless. Tony was unwavering in his decision and Y/N had already won over Bucky as well. As everyone murmered their agreement, Tony gave Bucky a slight nod. Barely noticeable, but Bucky had seen it. It was by no means a sign of forgiveness on either side, but it was a start.
Taglist: 
(if there’s a strike through your name it means I couldn’t tag you)
@amybarter15 @imperialoath @throw-some-music-my-way @mamaraptor @marbleowl @lydklein1 @wantingtobekorra @alysawrites @uhholyhazza @ladymelissastark @sarcasm-n-insomnia @foxylupines @myrabbitholetoneverland @amazingficsthatididnotwrite
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sakuwriteshere · 6 years ago
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The Winchesters and The Librarian - Chapter 2
Summary:  Two families, two different legacies but one common fate. Y/N Y/L/N, the newest and only Librarian met the Winchesters brothers during one of her quests. None of them knew that it was the beginning of a strange and awkward friendship. And maybe, even more than that.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader, Sam Winchester x Female Reader (friendship)
Warnings: None at the moment. Slight mention of violence but nothing graphic. In future chapters, possibly angst, violence, mention of blood, bad language and mayyyyybe smut (not sure about that one, yet)
Words count: 4104 (Oops...I got carried away, sorry) 
A/N: So another series! I like slow burn and long stories so I can’t help! I thought it would be fun to write something about those two shows. I loved the Librarian TV show, and the humour in it and I think SPN could mix perfectly.
Anyway! I don’t know how long this series will be or even where it’s going but I had fun writing the first chapter! Hope you’ll like it too and feel free to share your ideas about future chapters.
English is not my native tongue and this is un-betated, so sorry for any grammar mistakes.
Disclamer: I do NOT own Supernatural / The Librarian or any character of the shows which are the CW company properties. This work is for free entertainment only.
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A/N: Not my own gif
Tag List:
@chims-kookies @strayrosesbloom @colie87@fanfictionjunkie1112
Chapter 2: The Opal of Samara
“So get this,” Sam announced as he entered the war room, a huge book in his hands.
Dean lifted his eyes from the laptop’s screen and waited for Sam to continue.
“I haven’t found anything on the Internet or in the lore about a Librarian but in the Men of Letters’ archives there are a few notes that mentioned them.”
“Them?” Dean asked as he took a sip of his coffee, then made a face because the black liquid was cold. He stood up and went to the kitchen, his little brother following him.
“Yeah. Looks like a secret society, just like the Men of Letters. The notes say that both sides helped each other a few times. It was always about artifacts like the Book of Salomon or-or-” Sam turned the page as he kept on reading, a chuckle escaping his lips as he read the name of the next artefact “or King Arthur’s Sword!”
Dean poured himself another cup of coffee, then nodded in contentment as it was hot enough to his liking.
“So you mean, Buffy is a sort of Indiana Jones or Sydney Fox?”
One of Sam’s brow raised up slightly, not believing in what his big brother just admitted.
“What? Tia Carrera was hot. Don’t look at me like that.” Dean shrugged and kept on drinking his coffee.
Sam cleared his throat as he closed the book.
“Anyway, I think she might come handy in the future. I don’t know what kind of artefacts she’s collecting but a few of them could be useful.” Sam told his brother who didn’t seem on the same page as him.
“Useful for what? Come one, Sam! The kid doesn’t even know how to fight back.” Dean reminded his brother as he remembered how defenseless you’ve been in front of the vampires. “We’ve been hunting without those stupid things and we did great. We don’t need them or her.”
Sam bit the inside of his cheek, preventing him to speak too quickly. If they did great in the past, it was only in Dean’s eyes, everything they had to fight until now was because of mistakes they’ve done in the past. As the silence between them settled longer, and longer, Dean knew that Sam was thinking hard about it. He really didn’t know why his little brother seemed suddenly interested in those Librarians and their crap.
“Don’t tell me,” Dean’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “You got a crush on her, don’t you?”
Sam sighed heavily and looked at the ceiling. “No Dean!”
“It’s okay Sammy, I understand, she was kind of cute.”
Dean smiled as he thought about the way your nose crunched up when he called you Buffy. Or how you kept on pushing that strand of hair that constantly fell in front of your eyes. Or any little odd but cute habits he could witness during that short encounter.
It was Sam’s turn to smirk when he saw Dean’s face as he was lost in his thoughts.
“Whose got a crush, now?” He muttered softly.
“What did you say?” Dean asked, blinking once and focusing on his little brother once again.
Luckily for Sam, their conversation had been interrupted by Dean’s phone ringtone. The older brother pulled out the device from his jeans’ back pocket and checked the caller ID.
“Hi Garth, what’s up buddy?”
As Dean put the speakers on, Sam came closer, greeting Garth as well before the friendly hunter told them the reasons behind his call.
Garth explained that him and a few other hunters were working on a case involving demons. There were already six victims so far and nothing to link back the murders together, the causes of death being different on each case. The only clue Garth had was traces of sulfur was found on each death’s scene.
“You’re already working on it and you have backup. Why do you need our help? Just kill that son of a bitch.” Dean told his friend, his brows furrowed as he didn’t understand why Garth asked for their help, he knew that his friend was very capable of handling a few demons.
“That’s the problem, Dean. We can’t kill them or even trap them for the matter. Truth is, we’re already too late when we reach the crime scenes. I don’t know how to end this.” By hearing Garth’s tone, the brothers knew he was desperate.
They shared a look, silently talking to each other. One of the good things working with your brother was that sometimes you didn’t need actual words to understand what the other one was thinking. With a firm nod from Sam, Dean told Garth that they were in. Garth gave them all the information they needed and thanked them one last time before ending the call.
 A few days later in Portland, Oregon.
You were fully focused on the paper you were writing, lifting your head slightly to thank the waitress as she brought you your third strawberry frappuccino. You loved your job as a Librarian, but you enjoyed your day off as well. It consisted of doing researches and more archeologic stuffs mostly but what can you say? You loved history and magic stuff. It wasn’t a coincidence that the Library choose you, after all. You were born for this.
You took a sip before you grabbed the plate next to you. It was time to take a break and enjoy their famous pie. Best pecan pie in Oregon!
As your lips wrapped around your fork, you glanced up once you heard the waitress apologizing to a customer.
“Sorry sir, we just sold our last piece.”
You saw her finger pointing in your direction when the customer whined.
“Wou’ve gob kigging be.” You said with your mouth full of the pastry, a few crumbles falling from your mouth as you stared at the two customers in question.
The two men surely had the same look than you, not expecting to see you ever again and certainly not in such a common place out of nowhere.
“Buffy?” Dean said before his eyes fell on the half-eaten slice of pie.
“Stop-” You pressed your hand against your mouth as another piece of pie flew from your mouth. You swallowed what you had in your mouth before taking off you glasses and put them next to your plate.
“My name is Y/N.” You hissed angrily as both men came closer.
“It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.” Sam smiled genuinely at you. You smiled back at him, then your gaze stopped on Dean, he was looking at you from head to toe. “What?” you asked as you looked at yourself, maybe you had spilled something on your clothes?
“You look…different.” Dean trailed off as he took in your attire. You were wearing a large grey hoodie and a pair of black leggings. Your hair was curled into a messy bun. Something casual and comfortable for a lazy day off full of paper work.
You shrugged. “This is my everyday look. I’m not always wearing jeans and leather.”
Dean smirked at that and was going to tell you that it looked good on you, but his little brother had to speak first. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here.” You answered him, the frown you had on your face disappearing as soon as you focused on Sam again. The man was nicer than his brother, in your opinion. “You?”
“We’re…” Sam started to explain but fall silent, not sure if it was wise to tell you why they were here. You being here as they worked on a strange case couldn’t be a coincidence, right? The fact that they had to hunt a few invincible demons in the exact same town you were living in, Sam was sure something fishy was going on.
“Let me guess. Another vampires’ nest?” You whispered, your eyes glancing back and forth as you make sure nobody could hear you.
“There’s so much more than just vampires.” Dean said.
“Dude!” Sam hissed as he hit his big brother’s top of head.
“What? She already knows about the supernatural.” Dean argued as he brought a hand on the spot his brother hit.
You watched the brothers bickering for a short moment, your eyes jumping from one to another. They were really weird.
“Okay…” You trailed off, gathering your stuff and focusing on your researches again. If you ignored them maybe they would leave you alone.
Sam cleared his throat, hoping that would grab your attention but you just kept on reading.
“What are you working on?” He asked you.
“Some thesis about Ancient Egypt stuff.” You answered mindlessly, you knew he was only asking to be polite, there was no way they would be truly interested in it. The guys were only muscles and no brains, for sure.
“Which dynasty?” Sam asked, the curiosity evident in his voice. “Middle or New Kingdom?”
That grabbed your attention, and both brothers could see the glint in your eyes when you started to speak about it.
“Ptolemaic.” You answered and Sam nodded.
“Before or after Alexander’s death?” Dean asked, earning a baffled look from you and his brother.
“What? I read.” Dean defended himself.
You were going to explain what your thesis was about when your phone rang and stopped you. You lifted your index finger at them as you pulled out your phone and sighed when you saw who was calling you.
“Jenkins!” You tried to sound friendly, but it sounded fake even in your ears. You were silent for a few minutes, listening to whatever he was saying, and your shoulders dropped slightly. “But this is my day off…” you whined but Jenkins wasn’t having it. You sighed loudly and rolled your eyes. “Fine. I’ll be there in a few.” You pouted before ending the call.
You dropped your head on the table, your face buried in your book as you let out a frustrated groan.
“Something’s wrong?” Sam asked.
You glanced up, then straightened as you started to collect your belongings. “Work’s calling me. Have fun killing whatever you’re here for.” You said, grabbing your bag and heading for the exit.
Dean’s eyes fell on the half-eaten pie, ready to pick it when you came back and took it from the table, glaring at him. As you exited the coffee shop you missed the angry look he threw at you.
As if having your only day off shortened wasn’t enough, you had to attend some stupid posh party. It wasn’t like you didn’t like champagne and caviar, but you hated wearing a dress and heels. You felt better in sneakers and leggings but as a Librarian and a representative of The Metropolitan Public Library, you had to look decent in those public parties. Truth is that Jenkins finally spotted where the Opal of Samara was and thanks to your shitty luck it has to be in the possession of some Senator. The only way of coming closer to the artefact was being invited to his house.
Senator Garnet’s wife was throwing a party for her husband upcoming campaign. Rich people and celebrities were invited, a few of them for expected generous donations, while the others, like you, were only here for the press and the Senator’s public image.
You forced a laugh as you heard Garnet’s younger son’s unfunny joke, you were only pretending to have a good time. This idiot was full of shit and so full of himself, you couldn’t stand it. After his third attempt to put his hand on your lower back, you excused yourself, forcing a polite smile, as you stepped back and headed for the bar, showing the little group you were talking to, your empty glass. You needed something stronger than champagne.
You sat on a stool and waved at the bartender, ordering a martini. While you waited for your drink you tried to remind yourself that it was just one night, it would be almost over, and you just needed to wait for the right moment to sneak into Senator Garnet’s private office. This was your only chance to put your hands on the precious artefact.
You thanked the bartender and took your drink, taking a small sip. Ah! Just what you needed, you thought, as you closed your eyes and savored the burning sensation going down your throat. Turning around, you crossed your legs and watched the room. This wasn’t your world at all. You would rather enjoy a walking into Amazonia’s forest than being here. You shifted on your seat, the black dress being uncomfortable, and your feet were killing you.
Half an hour had passed, and the half the invited had left already, the Senator and his wife being busy talking to the remaining people. Now was your chance!
You put your empty drink on the bar counter behind you, leaving a twenty to the bartender and walking towards the corridor. For once you were lucky, the private office was next to the bathroom, so it was easy to make it look like you were going for it. You entered the bathroom and closed the door behind you, then waited for a few minutes before opening the door slightly and checked into the corridor which was empty. Soundlessly you walked towards the office and checked once again that nobody was around. As your hand wrapped around the doorknob you felt an arm wrapped around your waist while another was pressed against your mouth, muffling your surprised scream as you were pulled backward and forced into a dark closet.
You squirmed and tried to free yourself from the hold and froze when you recognized the attacker’s voice.
“What are you doing here?” You heard the whisper.
“D-Dean?”
“Shh!” He said as his face appeared in front of you, thanks to his flashlight.
“What are YOU doing here?” You asked back, your voice still loud.
“Would you shut up?” He hissed, angrily.
“YOU shut up.” Was your weak comeback, you punched his chest and tried to get out from the closet, but Dean grabbed you again and tried to shush you as footsteps could be heard from the other side of the door.
One could expect that rich people would need big closets but the one you were hiding in was really small, barely big enough for two people to stand inside. As you waited for whoever it was on the other side to leave, you started to feel uncomfortable, your back pressed against Dean’s front. Your feet were hurting like hell and you shifted a bit, pressing harder against Dean. Your eyes widen when you felt something hard against your ass.
“Please be another flashlight. Please be another flashlight.” You repeated like a mantra as you closed your eyes tightly.
“Oh come on, this is my gun!” Dean grunted once he realized what you were talking about.
Thanks God you weren’t facing him or else he could see how flustered you were at the misunderstanding. Both of you were silent for a short moment, until you heard Sam’s voice coming from the other side.
You opened the door and came face to face with Sam.
“Dean? Y/N? What are you-” Sam started to ask but Dean cut him short and pushed him, then you into the private office.
Once the three of you were finally inside, you kicked off the pair of high heels angrily and turned around, glaring at both brothers.
“Why are you here?” You and Dean asked at the same time, then you frowned at each other.
“Listen, Y/N, you should stay here. This is more dangerous than the last time.” Sam told you, stepping and standing between his brother and you.
“We’re talking about demons here.” Dean added, his hands balled into fists, his eyes boring into you.
When he mentioned demons, you paled, your eyes widened as you remembered why you were here in the first place. You looked around, trying to find where Senator Garnet’s has hidden the Opal of Samara.
“If you’re hunting demons then it means he had used it already.” You thought out loud, your eyes darting back and forth.
“Using what?” Sam asked as he watched you searching within the room.
“The Opal of Samara.” You tapped lightly on the walls, looking for any hidden place. “It’s an artifact recovered by the Teutonic knights from Jerusalem during the Third Crusade. It was stolen by the Nazi occult division and stored in Berlin until it disappeared at the end of World War Two.”
“Nazi, I hate that time. By the way, did you know that I killed Hitler?” Dean said out of the blue, a stupid proud grin on his face.
You stopped your investigation, looking back at him, then glanced at Sam who sighed deeply. He couldn’t be serious, could he?
“Anyway,” You crossed the room and headed for the other side, removing books from the bookshelf. “It seems like this artifact has the power to summon demons, so you understand why I really need to find it as soon as possible.”
“Does it make the demons invincible?” Sam asked as he helped you searching.
“I don’t think so. We don’t know a lot, just that once summoned the demon can’t be controlled.”
“Awesome.” Dean muttered as he opened and closed every drawer from the desk.
“Come on, come on! It should be here!” You pressed a hand on your forehead as you tried to think where that damn thing could be.
“May I help you?” The three of you turned around, looking at the newcomer: Garnet’s youngest son.
“You’re looking for this, right?” The young man smirked as he pulled out the Opal of Samara from his inner pocket, the boys pulling out their guns and pointing them at him. You glanced at the weapons, not sure what they were going to do. They wouldn’t dare kill him, right? Even if he was a stupid, spoiled brad, he didn’t deserve to be killed. You were against violence.
“Your toys won’t be of any help with this.” He said as the Opal started to glow.
Okay you were against violence, especially when it was directed towards you.
“Don’t!” You yelled as the artifact glowed more and more.
A black shadow appeared on the wall in front of you, moving so fast that you couldn’t follow its path.
“Daeva!” Sam shouted.
Soon the shadow stopped on the wall behind the three of you and smoked appeared, a demon starting to form in the middle of it.
“Not a daeva.” Dean said, licking his lips as he kept his eyes focused on the creature.
The brothers were here for the demons, while you were here to take care of the artifact. The door of the office closed in bang, trapping you and the brothers and Garnet’s son with the demon. As you started to walk towards him, you felt yourself thrown back against the wall, your head banging at the impact. Without having the time to realize what happened, you felt your body lifting and sliding up against the wall, the air escaping your lungs slowly.
“Y/N!” Your eyes looked in Dean’s direction, but you couldn’t say anything as you started to suffocate.
“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio- this is not working!” Sam started to say the Latin words, but the demon didn’t seem affected at all. On the contrary it only resulted in making him angrier and soon Sam encountered the same fate than yours.
Worried for his little brother, Dean pulled out a pointy blade from his coat and threw it at the demon. The body turned into smoke before the weapon could hit it, the blade planting itself into the wall.
“Damnit!”
Sam and you fell on the ground, coughing and gasping for air. If Dean missed the creature, at least it freed you and Sam from his invisible hold.
“The op-opal.” You told Dean, breathless.
Dean nodded and looked at the son of a bitch that was holding the artifact. The sudden attention on him made him realized that his plan wasn’t working as great at he thought. Before he had the time to leave the room, you heard the shot and saw the idiot letting go of the Opal and grabbing his left leg.
He made the worst mistake of his miserable life.
According to the legends, the Opal of Samara was used to summon demons that can’t be controlled but the owner of the artifact was protected of the creature’s wrath.
As long as he holds it.
You saw the smoke whirling around Garnet’s son, his screams of terror ringing in your ears. Still laying on the ground, you closed your eyes and covered your ears, not wanting to witness such a tragic death. You shuddered when you felt something warm and sticky hit your face, then everything became quiet again.
You cracked an eye open and saw what remained of Garnet’s son’s body, and next to it the smoke forming into a body once again. You had to act quickly before it killed one of you. You stood up and walked towards the Opal that rested in front of the door but suddenly you fell on the ground, a heavy weight pushing you hard on the carpeted floor.
By the sound of it, it seemed like Sam and Dean had the same treatment. You glanced back and looked at them as they groaned and tried to stand up.
“Y/N!” Sam warned you and you just had the time to turn your face and saw the demon turning into a bundle of smoke again. Seems like you were the next one.
You heard a click, then another shot rang loudly into your ears. The Opal of Samara breaking into several tiny pieces as the smoke evaporated into thin air.
Despite the fact that there was no more weight crushing your body you remained on the floor, only turning onto your back and stared at the ceiling for a long minute as you tried to calm your heartbeat.
Once you collected your thoughts, reality hit you hard and you swatted away Dean’s helping hand before standing up by yourself.
“What have you done?!” You yelled at him, pushing him hard as you walked towards the broken artifact.
“Saved our asses. You’re welcome by the way.” Dean answered you, the surprise visible on his face at your outburst.
You knelt in front of the Opal and gathered all the pieces into your hands. “Jenkins will kill me. I was supposed to bring it safely. You’ve destroyed a priceless artifact, Dean!” You told him as you saw his feet stopped next to you.
“I think our lives are more important than this cursed object.”
You stood up in a quick motion, the anger boiling into your veins and you lifted your head so you could look at him, your body separated by a few inches only. Both of you glared at the other, both side thinking they were the one who was right.
“Guys, I think we should leave.” Sam said calmly but both of you refused to be the first one to look away.
Sam rolled his eyes and groaned, having enough of your stubbornness.
“Now!” He ordered, pushing slightly his brother and grabbing your wrist, pulling you with him.
Sam offered you to drive you back to your home. It was the least they could do after ruining your plans for tonight. However, instead of going back to your apartment you asked him to bring you at the Annex. You knew Jenkins was waiting for you and you feared the worst.
“She’s not coming with us!” Dean argued as he walked towards his car.
“You broke my artifact. I climb in your car!” You argued back, stomping behind him.
“Would you stop it already? What’s wrong with you?” Sam sighed heavily.
“He’s a brainless idiot who’s so full of himself!” You shouted.
“She’s a whining bitch!” He yelled louder.
“Stop it! Climb in the car. Now!” Sam ordered, knowing that you both wanted to have the last word. As none of you seemed to move, Sam’s voice grew louder as he climbed into the passenger’s side of the car. “I swear that if you don’t climb in right now, I’m leaving both of you!”
Dean grumbled and walked away, heading for the driver seat.
“What did you say?” You asked as you started to follow him.
“Get in, before I change my mind, Buffy.”
“Stop calling me Buffy!” You screeched as you opened the backseat door.
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mendespideys · 6 years ago
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You’ve got some explaining to do | p.p
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Pairings: reader x best friend!peter parker
Summary: you and peter decide to play a game of truth and dare. it’s all fun and games until peter dares you to try on one of tony’s iron man suits
Warnings: use of adult words
Words: 2k (i got a little carried away, oops)
a/n: um, yeah, i don’t even know. not really happy with this, but please let me know what you think
masterlist 
“Hm,” Peter hums, cupping his chin with his thumb and index finger for emphasis. “Truth.” 
You purse your lips, not prepared for his answer. You had had an excellent dare in mind for your best friend, knowing that was usually his go-to answer. Having been friends for five years, you knew everything there was to know about him. You knew how his parents had passed, you knew about his first kiss, and most importantly - you knew about his late-night activities. 
You stare at your best friend, ransacking your brain for a question would continue to make the game interesting. Peter looks back at you with curiosity and anticipation. In fear of retaliation, you decide to go with a more humorous question. 
“Where is the strangest place you have peed?” You realize how stupid the question is now that it has been said aloud, but you shrug mentally. Too late now. 
Peter’s eyes widen as soon as your words were spoken, his cheeks puffing as he blows out a string of laughter. He tries his best to choke back his laughter, raising an eyebrow at your choice. You shrug, looking around his almost untouched bedroom. Tony Stark had kindly offered him a room among the other Avengers, but Peter spent most his nights at home with his Aunt May. 
“A flower bed,” Peter states, bringing your attention back to him. You raise a questioning eyebrow. “I was out, you know, saving the little guy, and I hadn’t used the restroom is so long. I just had to go, so I ended up peeing in a flower bed behind a house.” He elaborated, shrugging as if what he said had been the most casual conversation topic in history. 
“My turn,” Peter smirks before you even get the chance to question his confession. “Truth or dare?” 
Fearing an embarrassing question in return, you quickly choose dare. Peter lights up, a devilish grin forming on his face, and you immediately regret your choice. 
“I dare you,” he starts, tracing your movements with your his eyes. You remember him saying it helped him focus. “to try on one of Tony’s suits.” A sly smirk quickly grows on his face. Your breath catches involuntarily, and you cough trying to hide it. 
“Peter, no. I can’t I-”
“You either have to finish the dare, or...” he trailed off with a shrug, knowing you were fully aware what he was talking about. You sigh, defeated. Getting up from the comfort of Peter’s bed, you mutter, 
“I can’t believe I’m about to do this.” 
After a lot of complaining from you and teasing from Peter, you find yourself in Tony’s Hall of Armors. Glancing around, you ponder any possible excuse to get you out of this dare. Peter clears his throat, followed by a chuckle, making you stiffen. 
“Nervous much?” he leans against the wall, crossing his arms across his I Survived My Trip to NYC shirt, which he had ironically kept. “So, what are you waiting for?” 
“Shut up,” you grumble, hesitantly stepping forward. “I will take all the time I need.” 
You can feel his amused gaze following your every move as you walk among the many suits decorating the room. Feeling your heart beat in your chest, you clear your throat and stop in front of a random suit. Might as well get it over with, right?
It was easier said than done to get the suit on. Peter apparently found the whole ordeal hilarious, having to cup his mouth to silence his laughter. You both knew that if looks could kill, he would’ve died about ten minutes ago. 
“Okay, there,” you mutter, throwing your arms up for emphasis. “I put it on. You happy now?”
Peter grins, holding up his finger. He fishes around his pocket for a second before pulling his phone out. You shake your head already before he looks back at you. “No. Nu-uh,” you protest, purposefully digging your eyes into him as a warning. 
“Aw, c’mon,” Peter whines teasingly, “Just one picture.” 
You shake your head. “Peter Parker, if you as much click that shutter one time, I will blast you out of this freaking building.” 
Luckily for you, your best friend was blessed with enhanced senses. Because before you could even comprehend what was about to happen, Peter had dropped his phone to the ground with a thud, shooting his web toward the roof. You watch as he swings hastily, holding on to the dark concrete above you. 
Not even a second later, the red and gold armor around your wrist shoots out an orange burst of energy. The force of it makes you stumble backward, your eyes growing wide at the burnt mark on the wall where your best friend had been just seconds previously. 
“Peter, I-” you begin, quickly looking up at him. He stares back at you, his eyes open from surprise. “I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean to, I-” 
You’re cut off by a sudden warmth at your feet. Looking down to inspect the sudden change, you gasp in horror. You look pleadingly at Peter for a second, feeling yourself levitate higher. The terror disappeared almost as fast as it came, growing into anger at the sound of Peter’s laugh. 
You look down, vaguely spotting the golden bursts underneath your feet causing you to fly. “Peter Parker shut the fuck up and help me down, or I won’t miss this time.”
Peter chokes on another fit of giggles at your empty threat, knowing you would never blast him. At least not on purpose. You shriek loudly, as the suit flies you even higher. Gulping down the growing lump in your throat, you wobble, desperately trying to find your balance in the air. 
“Peter,” you grit out through your teeth, squealing as you drop down about an inch or two. “Do something! Help me out of this thing before Tony hears or we’re both dead.” 
You glare at him. His shock had passed it seemed, seeing as he was still laughing and looking at you as if this was the best entertainment he could ever dream of. You curse him under your breath, pointing the arm blaster at him once again. 
He stops laughing abruptly, holding his free hand out in front him. “Okay, okay. I’ll help you. Just don’t shoot me.” 
You follow him with your eyes as he drops himself from the floor, gracefully landing into his famous Spider-Man pose. You roll your eyes, still not fully over his sudden athletic abilities. Peter straightens, running a hand through his brown curls. You catch yourself before he notices you staring, and purse your lips in expectation. 
Peter takes a few steps until he’s almost directly under you, holding his arm out toward the feet of the armor that you so regrettably had put on. You watch as the familiar white webbing comes out from his wrist. Feeling the suit move again, you let out yet another involuntary shriek as you hear Peter groan. 
“Y/N,” Peter starts, licking his lips, and you stop yourself before your thoughts go wild at the sight. “You need to stay still.” 
“Easy for you to say, Penis Parker,” you grumble, using the hated nickname Flash had given him when you had started high school. “You’re the dumbass who dared me to do this in the first place.” 
“Yeah, well, I didn’t actually think you’d go through with it,” he shrugs. “You’re usually not the adventurous, daring type.” 
You’re about to scold him, but again, you’re jerked to the side before you get the chance. Peter ducks suddenly, and the force of another blast causes you to wobble. You stare at the black spot you had just decorated the floor with. 
“Y/N, stop shooting that damn thing!” 
“I would if I could, Parker,” you seethe, suddenly not feeling too well. “Shut up and do something.”
Peter nods quickly, not missing with his webs this time. He starts pulling, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the ground. Sighing in relief, you can feel yourself relaxing the muscles you didn’t know you had tensed in the first place. 
“What on earth is going on in here?” You freeze and Peter turns around in surprise, dropping the grip he had on you. You yelp, feeling yourself float higher. “Kid, you better have a good explanation.” 
Tony looks pointedly at Peter. He looks like he is about to scold him, and even though you would love to see that, you figured it had to wait for another time. You squeal, and Tony’s gaze moves to you. 
Peter looks flustered, like a deer caught in the headlights, but follows Tony’s eyes. Tony rolls his eyes, striding over to his computer in the corner. “There is a reason why these suits are here and not being used.” 
You watch helplessly as he starts punching in numbers and letters. Peter looks at you sheepishly, and you know he knows he’s gonna hear it from you later. Your best friend walks closer to Tony, staring at the computer curiously. 
“That suit had a malfunction, hence why it’s not being used,” Tony elaborated. “Couldn’t quite get it to do what I wanted. What are you doing in here anyways, younglings?” 
“Peter dared me to try on one of your suits,” you state simply, smiling innocently as Peter turns to you with wide eyes. 
“Spiderling’s behind this?” Tony turns, raising an eyebrow as he looks at Peter. Peter clears his throat, fumbling with his hands - a nervous habit he had picked up a few years ago. 
“Mr. Stark, I-” 
You cut him off. “Although I would love nothing more than Tony scolding you right now, I would like to get down first. I don’t feel too good.” You mumble, starting to feel kind of oozy. How Tony did this for longer than ten minutes was beyond you. 
“Right,” Tony mumbles, pressing a few more numbers. “There, that should do it.” 
You sigh, suddenly feeling more in control. The control quickly subsides as you feel the energy holding you up give out. You shriek as you shut your eyes, preparing yourself to land on the floor with a clank. It takes a few seconds before you realize that you should have hit the ground by now. 
Opening your eyes one by one, you find yourself looking into Peter’s brown eyes. He grins innocently, but you’re too fixated on his eyes. You could see the slight worry within them, having seen it a few times before. You’re broken out of your trance by Tony clearing his throat. 
Peter drops you almost immediately, although he makes sure you can stand on your own before he removes his arms completely. His cheeks darken, and he rubs the back of his neck as he stares at his shoes. 
“Although that was disgustingly adorable, Tony starts, a slight smirk plastered on his face. “You guys have some explaining to do. Meet me in the common room in five.” 
Tony nods, seemingly happy with his work, and walks toward the door. He shoots you another look, motioning for you to start taking off his suit. You nod quickly. 
“Yes, sir, Mr. Stark, sir.”
“Sure thing.”
As soon as Tony’s out the door, you let out a relieved sigh. He didn’t seem too mad. Definitely nowhere near the amount of anger you feel bubbling inside of you. At the sight of Tony disappearing, Peter lets out a loud laugh. You drop the last piece of armor to the ground. 
The loud clank makes Peter look at you, and his eyes widen, clearly sensing your anger. He shoots you a grin so big that if it had been any other situation, you would have melted right then and there. Peter extends his wrist, quickly catching his phone with his sticky webs and shoving it back into his pocket. He takes off with a loud giggle. 
“Peter Parker, get your ass back here!” You bellow, almost tripping over the heap of metal on the floor. 
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evenstevensranked · 7 years ago
Text
#28: Season 2, Episode 16 - “Wombat Wuv”
Louis is infatuated with the new cheerleading coach, so he decides to become the school mascot in an extremely farfetched attempt to win her over. Meanwhile, Ren becomes a cheerleader and goes into pep overdrive.
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We start this episode at cheerleading practice where we see that Ren is a cheerleader now...? Okay. The girls are getting ready to welcome Ms. Morgan, the new cheer coach. Louis and Twitty are nearby and play the most immature but hilarious prank on Ren. She goes to do a split and Louis sets off a fart noise. Okay.. As I typed that sentence, I was overcome with juvenile cringe. But the noise is so perfectly timed and Louis gets such a kick out of it that I can't even be mad.
Eventually, Ms. Morgan appears and Louis has an out of body experience. Literally. His soul leaves his body and does an interpretive dance for this woman. It's a very memorable moment. He's seriously in awe of her beauty. I love how Twitty wasn't even phased by her, though? Louis was all "DUDE WHO IS THAT?!??" And Twitty said "Eh, idk... some lady" omg.
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Louis’ transparent soul leaving his body to express his feelings in the most random way possible. Only on this show, man. 
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that in addition to seeing that Ren is suddenly a cheerleader now.. we also see that she’s kinda terrible at it. So, how in the world did she make it onto the squad in the first place??? This is a question that always pops into my head every single time I watch this episode. Then, without fail, I always breathe a strange sigh of relief when the writers actually bother to explain the situation through dialogue between Louis and Twitty! Louis casually says that Ren needs the credit for her resumé to show she has school spirit or something... which actually makes sense. A lesser show would’ve made Ren be a cheerleader for this one episode with no explanation whatsoever. But, still. I find it hard to believe they'd just let her on the team for a reason like that. You have to at least be physically capable! Which Ren clearly is not:
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If ya couldn’t tell, she’s the one in the middle causing the entire group to collapse. 
They fall on Kenny the mascot guy -- who you can see was totally out of the line of fire, but purposely threw himself on the ground because the plot demanded it. He quits on the spot and now our story truly begins. Louis gets the bright idea to swoop in and save the day by taking over the mascot gig. He immediately sees this as an opportunity to basically start dating Ms. Morgan. Lawd help me honeychild. YOU'RE 13, LOUIS. It’ll be difficult to have a relationship with Ms. Morgan when she’s busy spending time in prison. 
Louis goes to Ms. Morgan's office and she talks to him in such a sweet and sultry voice which is probably the worst thing she could do in this situation. Louis' heart is beating so loud, he's able to pass it off as some ruckus going on outside. Wow.
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Later that day, Tawny sees him with the mascot suit and assumes he stole it for fun. I love how she says "You should’ve told me! I would've done it with you!" Look at these lil rebels over here! They're so cute. Tawny looks extra goth here too which is awesome, lol. Louis tells her that he's the new mascot. She’s so shocked she shoves him against the lockers, and Shia does the greatest scream here!!! You can see him laughing a bit. I love it. Unfortunately, part of Louis' ugly side comes out right around here. He starts totally blowing Tawny off now because there's a ~new woman~ in his life. He cancels plans with her because he has mascot practice and cryptically won't explain why he took the gig in the first place. "It's just something I had to do" - Wow, Louis. The Dramatics™.
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I just had to include a screenshot of Tawny’s outfit. Black Doc Martens and some peasant flowy gothy dress. Yes. (This was a fast-motion bit, so this is the best cap I could get)  
Louis calls Twitty over for an emergency meeting after school. Idk why but I think it's hilarious how Twitty comes jogging into his room out of breath lol. "I ran all the way over here, what's the emergency?" Friendship goals honestly. Needless to say, Twitty is less than impressed when Louis confesses "I'm in love with Ms. Morgan." Twitty can see right through the infatuation and knows that Louis is living in lalaland. But according to Romance For Boneheads, (a total "For Dummies” knockoff) he has the classic symptoms of a man in love. 
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It's pretty adorable to see Louis all worked up like this, but kinda sad at the same time because this is obviously not going to end well. Twitty suggests "Maybe you just ate some bad bean dip" which is so funny to me, like.... what.
Louis continues ranting about how perfect Ms. Morgan is and says "I think we'd be a fun couple" as he gazes out his window and we get the most ridiculous daydream ever I can't even deal with this. He and Ms. Morgan are returning from a vacation to the Bahamas. Louis randomly starts playing mini bongos (the same ones that are on his windowsill actually! I never noticed that before!) and Ms. Morgan dances around him. Eileen concurs “You two are a fun couple.” Gotta love how his parents approve even though Louis IS THIRTEEN YEARS OLD and Ms. Morgan is definitely at least 30 lol. EDIT: I just checked. The actress was 36 here! omg.
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I love how they made sure Eileen and Steve look somewhere between happy and highly disturbed. Fun fact: This episode was actually directed by Donna Pescow! So... perhaps these facial expressions were her own idea lol. 
Louis starts drooling at the thought and we see THE RETURN OF THE ANNOYING CGI TONGUE FROM GET A JOB. 
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Seriously. Who thought that was a good idea? It just looks awful and so out of place. Y'all know by now how I feel about this surreal stuff they randomly throw in. It just feels weird to me. Anyway, Louis reveals that his master plan is to go to mascot bootcamp and make Ms. Morgan fall in love with him. Easy peasy! Louis is one confident guy, sheesh! Twitty immediately asks "Wait. What about Tawny, dude?" Awwwww. Then we get one of the greatest moments ever. Louis tries to say he thoroughly explained everything to her and that she fully understands, but a flashback to that moment paints a very different picture:
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“Thoroughly explained”? Yeah, not so much. Tawny is so confused, haha. (gif credit)
Cut to Wacky Walter’s Mascot Bootcamp! Where a bunch of mascots come together and learn techniques such as “the basic booty shake” and sizzling on the ground like a strip of bacon.
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What school would have a cow for a mascot? 
Louis has basically found his calling at mascot bootcamp. Wacky Walter was seriously impressed so he decides to give Louis his old jetpack. Yeah, let's just give this 13 year old kid a dangerous, fire powered means of transportation. Good idea. Someone shut this guy down! Have I mentioned that Louis is 13 years old? 
After a successful day at bootcamp, Louis excitedly rushes into Ms. Morgan's office to tell her about the jetpack thing and how he plans to fly around at the pep rally later on... And one of the greatest moments of the entire series happens. THE MORGAN UNIBROW IS REVEALED!!! This is absolutely iconic. Nothing beats this series of Louis Stevens faces. My favorite quote has gotta be “OH YA SHAVE IT, DO YA?!” Here it is in all its glory: 
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Since Louis was under the impression Ms. Morgan was a flawless goddess, he cannot handle this flaw of hers... like, at all. So he quits being the mascot and gives her some lame excuse. Eventually, the two of them have a little heart to heart and he confesses the real reason. It's a touching moment. It’s sorta cringy, but I can’t help but laugh when Louis admits: "I wanted to hang out with you. Well..... actually more than that" oh my god. Ms. Morgan tells him that he'll find someone who's just right for him. Louis says “I found her. But I think I messed that up too” in reference to Tawny. I’m dead. So sweet. Yay for Louis/Tawny development!!!
Louis then makes a poor attempt at making up with Tawny and she flat out calls him a jackass. Yes. A JACKASS. On Disney Channel. Holy crap, guys. Tawny is the freaking best honestly. She won’t put up with Louis’ bs for a second and it drives him insane. Dats love. It’s great.
Oh, god! I forgot about Ren's subplot! I’m the worst. Okay. Basically, the other cheerleaders think that Ren isn't perky enough. They encourage her to find her "perky place" and let's just say, Ren goes overboard. She starts cheering for everything. Algebra, the mail, and even her laundry. It's so bad that Steve has to do a mini-intervention. Dang. Once she’s aware of how stupid cheering seems, she starts to think that cheerleading is pointless. Ren shares her negative feelings with the squad before the pep rally and all of the cheerleaders get super depressed. Ren was literally telling the girls that their cheering does no good at all in the grand scheme of life and that they shouldn’t do it anymore. I never understood this, because when they go out to do their routine Ren is still putting in the effort to be extra peppy! It’s almost like she set them up so she’d be the only one who looks good. I never got that. Am I missing something? EXPLAIN!
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The lack of spirit from the cheerleaders spreads a wave of depression across the entire gym. Oops. It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Ms. Morgan tries her best to rally up the crowd but is failing miserably. She gets one kid to do the wave with her... that’s about it.
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Twitty tells Louis “Dude, your ex-girlfriend throws one lousy pep rally” which is pretty funny. Louis decides to save the day once again and puts Wacky Walter’s jetpack to use. He comes running out in costume ready to fly around. Ren screams “HEY, EVERYBODY! LOOK! IT’S THE WOMBAT!!” which sounds so ridiculous like the kind of melodramatic dialogue from movies in the 1930s and 40s -- where the actresses are ~so passionate~ they always sound one breath away from passing out. It makes me laugh.
Louis flies around to some royalty-free “Rocky” theme rip-off before he comes violently crashing down (and lands in a convenient pile of pompoms) because he’s 13 and shouldn’t be trusted with a jetpack -- especially indoors. 
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Tawny takes care of him right away and she’s about to get the nurse when Louis stops her “Tawny, don’t leave. I have to tell you something. You have..... the two most beautiful eyebrows I’ve ever seen” - How precious is that?! Tawny’s brows would unfortunately not be on fleek by today’s standards though. You need to have freaking caterpillars on your face these days. Funny how styles change. BUT THAT’S BESIDE THE POINT. That eyebrow line was such a cute and clever thing to say!!
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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The cheerleaders kick Ren off the squad, which is good news for Ren because she wanted to quit. As she walks away from them, the girls do this catchy cheer: “She’s going! Bye bye, farewell, adios, hey hey!” This always gets stuck in my head. 
That’s it! I like this episode a lot. Louis learns the age old lesson of “nobody’s perfect” -- a message Hannah Montana would later drill into our memories for all eternity. It’s really nice. There’s Louis/Tawny content here, so this episode is already winning. It’s just pretty iconic overall imo. Ren’s plot is pretty cute, too! I don’t even know what to say in this little summary paragraph because all of the episodes at this point in the list (#29 - #20) are all solid episodes leaning towards positive for me instead of neutral like most of the episodes in the #50s - #30s.
Thanks for reading!
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fandom-imagines · 7 years ago
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The man behind the mask: Chapter Eighteen
The man behind the mask masterlist
Pairing: Sherlock X Reader
I usually update this on my wattpad a few days before I post it here so if you want to read these chapters early, you can do so here: X
Before I start this chapter I wanna tell you that I wrote two long-ass chapters before deciding they were stupid so now these chapters go in a completely different direction than I had originally wrote lmao. Figured you don’t want more drama right now lolol~
Gonna try and make the next few chapters relaxed, some fluff and stuff before I move on to the scandal in Belgravia.
This took me so long oops
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Sherlock slid to the side of me, turning to face me, his hand running through my hair.
I loved moments like this.
Moments where nothing else mattered, it was just Sherlock and me.
Alone and vulnerable.
“I love you” He whispered, shocking me.
Neither of us had ever said those words before, even though I knew I thought it.
“I love you too” I smiled, pressing a small chaste kiss on his lips as the two of us fell in to a deep slumber.
The two of us awoke the following morning to shouting coming from the lounge.
“Morning” Sherlock whispered, a slight smile on his face.
“Morning” I smiled, slowly sitting up.
“What’s going on out there?” I asked, curious as I looked towards the door, yelling still audible.
“No idea, let’s go see” He said, suddenly jumping up, throwing me his shirt, before quickly putting on his robe.
“What’s going on?” Sherlock asked, spotting Lestrade pacing in the middle of the lounge.
“A dangerous criminal has escaped!” He yelled, finally standing still and facing the two of us.
Sherlocks face suddenly lit up like a child on Christmas morning.
“Sit, Graham. Tell me more” He said, pushing Lestrade into the nearby chair
Greg sighed, not even bothering to correct him before going into details.
Deciding to get changed and head and back to the motel, I quickly walked to Sherlocks room, changing before heading out to go back to my room.
By the time I got to the motel it was around 11.
I decided to take a quick shower before heading out to pick up some food, figuring Sherlock and John hadn’t ate yet.
As I was waiting in line to pick up some food, my phone vibrated in my pocket.
‘Hey, you up for drinks tonight?’
It was my friend from high-school. I remember her telling me that she was coming to London to meet her online boyfriend and possibly move in with him.
‘Sure 😊’
Smiling to myself, I ordered something random that sounded nice and three cups of coffee before heading back to Baker Street.
By the time I arrived, John was back and Sherlock was dressed, the two of them looking at various papers on the wall.
“Hey, guys. Have you eaten?” I asked, kicking the door closed behind me.
“Not yet” John said, looking towards me and shooting me a small smile.
“Well, here” I said, handing him a coffee and offering him some food.
John smiled at me, taking a sip of his coffee before turning back to the board.
“What’s going on?” I asked, moving to stand beside Sherlock who was staring intently at the board.
“Jake Christo, escaped from prison last night after threatening to murder a guard if he didn’t let him leave. No leads so far” Sherlock stated, pointing at various pictures around the wall.
Looking over the pieces of evidence, I ran through various theories of where he could be.
His first kill was at Golden Gate bar.
Various kills there, probably sentimental.
He left after threating a guard, did the guard let him out? Possible, but not extremely likely.
All his murders had been at various bars but always connected, moving from one bar to the next in a circle like motion.
“Try there” I said, pointing to a bar in the middle of all the bars his kills have been at.
“The bars his kills have been at surround this one bar, it’s possible his next kill before he was caught was going to be there. Maybe a massacre” I said, turning and grabbing my coffee.
“Getting him back would be one thing, but finding out how he escaped is the next” Sherlock said, standing onto the couch to take down and article from one of his past murders.
“If we get him back, you could just question him, right?” John asked, looking between the two of us. Sherlock balancing in the couch, one foot on the back and one on the seat and me casually sipping my coffee.
“Yeah, but he could lie so he could attempt to escape again” I explained, looking up at Sherlock who was deep in thought, presumably thinking of how he could have escaped.
“He’s most likely been planning this for a while. He could have been working with the guard” Sherlock said, eyes scanning the papers in front of us.
“The guard could have then reported what the escapee said to him so it would clear him of suspicion.” I continued, watching as Sherlock nodded in agreement before grabbing his coat.
“Let’s go” He said, wrapping his scarf around his neck.
“Where?” John asked, confused.
“To question the guard, of course” Sherlock replied, standing in front of the door waiting for John and me.
“Why can’t Lestrade do it?” John grumbled, grabbing a pair of shoes.
“He won’t do it right” Sherlock huffed at how slow John was.
“Finally!” He said, rushing down the steps once John was ready.
“Ah, George” Sherlock said as we walked into Lestrade’s office.
He was currently sat in his chair, feet propped up on the desk and eating a jam doughnut.
“Greg!” He said through a bite.
I laughed to myself, watching as he quickly swallowed and removed his feet from the desk to face us fully.
“What do you need?” He asked, glancing at the large stack of paperwork on the desk.
“We need to talk to the guard that spoke to Jake” Sherlock announced, as Lestrade stood up leading us to the guard.
“So, you didn’t have any involvement in the escape?” John asked, looking over at Mr Garner who sat opposite us, laid back in his seat with his arms crossed.
Obvious signs of being defensive.
“Of course, not” He sighed, looking towards Sherlock who was staring intently at the man, watching his every move.
Occasionally he would glance over at me, to see I was doing the same, obviously making him uncomfortable.
“You don’t seem sure of that fact, Mr Garner” I said, looking over him.
Married
Two children
Cheated once before
Liar
Used to be in a gang
“Well, I didn’t help him with the plan” He stated.
“The plan?” I smirked, watching his facial expression drop and fear to quickly flash in his eyes.
“Okay, maybe I knew a bit about it” He sighed, turning his attention away from us and to the table.
“A bit?”
“Maybe I purposely left his cell open and gave me the opportunity to escape” He said quickly, his words barely making sense.
“Why? Why help? What did you have to gain?” Sherlock asked, his gaze remaining on the man in front of us.
“He said he’d help with my son”
“Your son?”
The man sighed, a frown covering his lips as he most likely thought about the incident with his son.
“Some guys at his school are bullying him. He said he’d scare them tonight when they’re out with their parents”
“Oh great” I groaned, rolling my eyes.
“I’m sure there was nothing suspicious about that” I said, jumping up from my seat.
“What time? Surely you don’t want them to die? Or if they are dead, you’ll be arrested for being an accomplice in murder.”
“A few hours? At the most”
Quickly, I darted out of the room, heading the grab a cab. I already knew what he looked like, so it should be easy enough.
Okay, it probably wasn’t a clever idea to come alone, but it was too late now.
As I stood in the corner of the bar, I watched the man enter, looking around for the boys.
I decided to not to confront him myself, I mean he’s a murderer for goodness sake.
Luckily for me, he didn’t approach the boy as soon as he entered the bar, which gave me time to wait for Lestrade and the officers.
Instead, he stood in the opposite corner of the bar, occasionally making eye contact with me, sometimes shooting me a smile.
Disgusting.
We remained like this for twenty minutes before he walked towards two boys who were waiting for someone, probably someone to buy them a drink.
I stood to the side for a moment, observing their actions before walking over.
“Is this man bothering you, boys?” I asked, looking over the two boys who had an uneasy look on their faces, looking towards the ground intently.
“Of course, I’m not ma’am, just wondering why these boys are here. They’re clearly underage” He said, smiling falsely at me.
By now, Lestrade, Sherlock and John had entered the bar, making eye contact with me before walking in with a few officers.
“Are you sure? They don’t seem too comfortable” I said, standing in front of the boys in a protective manner.
I didn’t know the boys, but I knew they were in danger.
Even though they had done wrong, they didn’t deserve to die. Not like this, not in pain. They were so young, where were the parents? Why did they let them out? Did they not know?
“I am sure, just worried”
Suddenly, two officers grabbed the man by the wrists, clicking some handcuffs on his wrists and leading him out, reciting the rehearsed explanation.
“You boys okay?” I asked, turning to the two who were both confused and slightly afraid.
“What just happened?” One of them asked.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” I said, forcing a smile not wanting to worry, or potentially scar them.
They nodded, thanking me before leaving the bar, discussing something.
It was still early by the time John, Sherlock and I left the bar, the three of us in silence, something not uncommon for us.
My phone beeped, breaking the silence.
‘Want me to pick you up?’
“Hey, you two go back. I’m going to meet my friend for a while” I said, smiling at the two men.
“You sure?” John asked, watching as I nodded.
“Who are you meeting?” Sherlock asked, turning to face me as I had stopped.
“Ava, she’s a friend from high school” I smiled, watching Sherlock nod.
“Goodnight, guys” I said, waving at the men walked to a cab.
‘Already there, I’ll wait outside’
It was around nine when Ava and I walked out of the bar, incredibly drunk.
“Where are the tunnels?” She laughed, gripping my arm as the two of us stumbled down the street looking for some supposedly haunted underground tunnels.
“Up here somewhere, I think.” I giggled, grabbing her wrist and running down the road, dodging everyone we saw.
“Is that a security guard?” She asked, brushing her long red hair away from her eyes.
Glancing behind, I spotted a man wearing, what I assumed was, a uniform.
“Probably” I said, before the two of us burst into laughter.
“This way” She said, pointing towards two elevators.
“Are those to the tunnels?” I asked, looking at the two contraptions that stood in front of us.
“Only one way to find out” She smirked, hitting the button multiple times like it would speed it up.
“Let’s go!” She cheered, the two of us clambering in and pressing the lowest button.
“Do you think this is illegal?” She asked, no regret in her eyes making me giggle.
“Probably”
“Maybe it wasn’t a good idea for us to drink before doing this” She chuckled, as she fell into the wall beside her.
“Who cares? Free will” I yelled, as the door opened revealing extremely creepy tunnels.
“Okay, so ghosties?” She smirked, running out of the elevator, almost tripping making me laugh.
“Come out, come out where ever you are” I yelled, not noticing the elevator close as I ran forward with Ava.
“How many people do you think died down here?” She gasped, running her hands along the cracked walls.
“Maybe us. What if we’re already dead?” I said, tripping onto the ground, pulling Ava with me, the two of us collapsing onto the ground, giggling.
A groaning noise echoed throughout the tunnels as the two of us stood up, turning to face each other.
“Call the Winchesters!” She screamed, running towards the noise.
Laughing, I quickly ran after her, jumping over rocks, trash and other things as I did so.
Back at Baker Street Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were sat in silence.
John typing up his latest blog post and Sherlock experimenting on something that only god knew.
The sound of Johns phone ringing broke the silence the two men had willingly fallen into.
“Heya Mr Hedgehog” A slurred voice called, one that John immediately recognised as Y/N’s.
“Y/N?” He asked, capturing Sherlocks attention as he walked into the room where John was sat.
Noticing the detectives’ presence, he pulled the phone away from his ear and put it on speaker so he could hear.
“That’s me” She giggled.
“Why aren’t you calling from your phone?” John asked. It was now around one in the morning and he had remained awake so he could help her once she got back to Baker Street.
“Apparently the police don’t like you using your own.”
“The police? Y/N, where are you?” John asked, quickly jumping up and grabbing his shoes.
“The police station, of course, Johnny boy. Honestly, if you used your brain.” She giggled again.
“Stay where you are, me and Sherlock are coming to pick you up” He demanded.
“I can’t exactly go anywhere. I’m handcuffed. Tell Sherlock to wear his purple shirt, it’s extremely attractive” She chuckled, making the raven-haired man smirk, a slight blush tinting his cheeks.
“What did you do?” John asked, while Sherlock grabbed his coat and scarf.
A muffle voice could be heard through the phone, before Y/N spoke again.
“Gotta go Johnny boy, see you soon” She said, before the call cut off.
“What’s she gotten herself into?” John asked, mainly to himself.
“She’s drunk, who knows?” Sherlock said, a slight smirk on his lips.
“Dear god” John sighed, climbing into the nearest cab, wondering what the younger girl had done.
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empresskira · 7 years ago
Note
"“we’ve been chatting online and we get on really well and oh that explains it” au (bonus: i totally told you about my crappy ex oops it you)" with An Ace Ship, and ace as the person who tells the other about their crappy ex
Well, I stayed along the prompt well enough… right? And the first thing that comes to mind with an Ace ship is Marco (well sometimes Sabo)
Excuse any mistakes! Enjoy! {Under read more for length}
I had been talking to someone online for a while now, hitting it off pretty well and talking like anything we thought of. I still don’t know what he looks like and I haven’t provided the same until he makes the move of showing to be interested to hook up. The guy seems a bit old fashioned, not bothering me much and I had been at first given a serious question on my age first. It made me confused, but shrug it off and gave him my age and gender. Hell, we still haven’t exchanged names yet and I was just enjoying what I was given.
One night, getting home terribly drunk from a great one night stand, I was frustrated to learn of the guy I had for the night did the biggest asshole move. It left me in a blur on what exactly happened, but I was left with messages on my account as I had been talking to ExoticParadiseBird105. It had been something left off and he messaged back in confusion, but what freaked me out was the last message I notice first as it was the most recent says:
‘Ace?’
It left me utterly confused as I scrolled through my entire conversation of broken language and ranting as he seemed concerned for me. It was a nice gesture as I complained about the dude I messed around with took off the damn condom during the act without my permission, which still pissed me off. Then it seemed like I ranted about one of my exes, making me groan with a hand finding my face as I rub to it in exasperation since I mentioned of how I still felt something towards the ‘crappy ex’ and wish that we never broke it off. More complaints how I had been left because of my age was mentioned very brokenly in writing and I felt bad he had to read any of it.
Then he was asking things that left me more confused, but I was still in rant mode before the keys really mashed together. It must have been when I just passed out and let sleep lull me away since I still wore my clothes from last night. I notice though the guy mention how he met my ex and what he looked like before there was the recent questioning of my name that was made this morning. I still didn’t know what that all meant and merely groaned more as I begin typing.
‘I’m so sorry about last night. I was plastered and frustrated. Please ignore my babbles.’
I reply as I breathe out in regret and rub to my face while leaning back in my desk chair. The chime of a message drags me back to look upon the screen and notice a reply.
‘It’s okay, that guy who took the condom off needs to be beat the hell out of.’
A snort leaves me as I chuckle lightly and then the three dots show of him typing again.
‘But is it too much to ask if your name is Ace?’
The question has me frowning a bit with eyebrows furrowed as I am confused and soon shift a bit to have fingers hover the keys before breathing out as I should reply.
‘Possibly.’
‘How would you vaguely even know that?’
I reply with a wiggle and grimace at the sudden taste of my mouth, making me making a noise of disgust. Moving hands, I pull off my shirt to toss at my basket and there is a reply to my computer.
‘Could we meet up at Green Beans?’
The coffee shop mentioned has me immediately knowing the place and wasn’t sure if I should. I knew he was in the area, the location showing on his profile and giving a suggestion to me one time.
‘I guess so.’
I reply, not sure how much this could already damage me and they replied quickly in return.
‘In ten minutes?’
A snort leaves me at the quick speed he is using and soon agree to that before moving to take a quick shower.
-o-o-o-o-
It didn’t take long for me to get freshened up and down to the cafe with a thought of getting a coffee. Though, I just let myself for the time being sit in a booth seat as it’s more square shaped and could only fit three people on each small cushion provided and is separated to provide privacy. I made sure to stay leaning on the table so they could see me, but also didn’t want to see the whole room in case he is a no show.
A white coffee cup with lid secured is placed before me, startling me lightly as I soon tilt my head up. This clenching is in my chest at the sight of the man standing there next to me, slightly blocking me in with a timid look.
“Please don’t run out on me, yoi.” A scowl appears on me as I try to swallow down the hurt and emotions swarming me.
“What, like you did?” I answer in a slight snap back and he breaths out before moving to the other side of the booth. It takes all my will power to not get up and leave as it completely dawns on me that this whole time I had been talking to Marco on that site. Go figure, I should have noticed as he took to my personality pretty quickly and it kind of just hurt even more now. “So what is this? A scolding for sleeping around? Because I will have you know just because of my age I am highly aware on the consequences and don’t think I haven’t already panicked about that enough last night.”
“That isn’t why I wanted you to come out here,” he starts off while I give a guilty look and I can’t help but want to think he deserves it. Then again, I could never bring myself to that fully as I was fully aware of Marco’s insecurity from the beginning while being with me. “I made a mistake ever breaking it off, okay? I let something like an age difference get in the way of our happiness.” He starts to explain and it hurts seeing that he was being truthful about it. No doubt my ranting of how much I just wish I could talk with him didn’t help, feeling as I backed myself in a corner. “And I haven’t been so happy with my life except on when I was with you, yoi.”
“Why did you have to break me to figure that out?” I ask with an arm moving to have my hand to the side of my head as I can’t look to him. It hurt thinking that we really were happy together, but he let other people question our age difference of six years since I was just turning nineteen at the time. They freaked him out to the point that it made him halt affection and doubt our relationship by every word dripping from their lips.
“To punish myself for doing that to you… I deserved everything you called me and to have all my things thrown out and burned in the lawn.” I purse my lips at the mentioning as I really did do that with his things and send him a picture to his phone before telling him to delete my number. I had been spiteful, angry about how much we went through to get to loving one another to only have that diminished because of other people.
“You did deserve it…” I mutter with a slight scowl and with a glance, I see a smile trying to pull at his lips, making me flush. “But… But I meant it in my rant…” I start out to explain with a sad look back down at the table. “You’re so fucking stupid and I am so stupid to even want to forgive you after everything.” I mutter a bit more with furrowed eyebrows before sitting up and grabbing the coffee to drink it, not wanting to look at him.
“Can… Can I try again, yoi?” He asks while I enjoy the speech tic he has and soon pull my cup away as I have my head lowered, but I tilt my head to look to him with eyes.
“Not yet…” I tell him, seeing a slight hurt and let that settle in him before stopping myself from being so spiteful with a sigh. I move a hand through my hair and drag eyes away with a nervous feeling in me. “Let… Let me get tested before all that…” I comment as I could only think about what happened last night, making me completely nervous on it all.
“Ace,” I look to him as he is giving a reassuring smile. “I would still want to be with you even if you were to be positive, okay? Plus,” a gleams shows in his blue eyes and he straightens a little, “I can tell you that I would have Vista or Akagami jumping on that for a lawsuit.” Hearing that has me snort, knowing he was serious, but reminded me of the times he would joke around about that for other minor things. “I’m serious, yoi.”
“I know,” I wave a hand out with a light laugh and give a smile as I am filled with memories. “I just thought of that time you said when a manager was being rude to me one time…” He gives a questioning look before it clicks and he is smiling with a tilt of his head, showing he remembers that time quite well. “But I wouldn’t want to do that to you…” I continue with my face dropping and he gives out a breath with a look to me.
“Ace, it’s not about the sex with you. It’s about the times we spend together and know how we always seem to mold so well.” He gives a smile as I am a little surprised and then he moves a hand to be across the table close to me, palm open as its held out towards me. “Please give me this chance, yoi.”
I look to his hand before feeling myself knowing how much I have always wanted this and couldn’t stop myself as I line fingers along his with a smile.
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ciathyzareposts · 6 years ago
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Rex Nebular – Bouncing Betty
Written by TBD.
Rex Nebular’s Log: Stardate – Tuesday morning.4: After being shot out of space I’ve crash landed on a planet populated only by women. Am I dreaming? Or do the indigenous creatures who keep wanting to rip off my head make it a nightmare?
We join our hero just after the opening cutscene, during which his ship was shot down and sunk into the water near the coast.
After getting up, the first thing I do is look at the viewscreen. On it I see a topless woman coming out of the water before the screen shorts out, upsetting Rex immensely. Is a pixellated topless woman the extent of naughtiness we’re going to see in this game? I expect so.
I quickly discover that the descriptions in this game are rather verbose and there’s a lot of hotspots I can look at in the first few screens. So much so that before fully exploring the ship I just wanted to go outside despite my usual strategy of looking at absolutely everything.
The descriptions are also amusing, so reading them is fun, but again, after a while, I just wanted to move on.
As I said, verbose but funny
This description doesn’t contain a joke, so it must contain important information.
I open the shield access panel and pull on the shield modulator to take it. Now I have an item in my inventory apart from my log, and it contains a special verb, disassemble.
What kind of game gives me a new verb and won’t let me use it immediately? This game’s inventory system is just a tease!
If I leave the cockpit, I end up in a living area with a bed, medicine cabinet (containing nothing I can take) and refrigerator, among other things.
As a stereotypical cartoon bachelor, my fridge contains some extremely old food.
The living area also has a ladder leading to the airlock. Rather than use the ladder now, I explore the rest of the ship.
The third (and final?) section of the ship is the engineering section. In there I find a rebreather, which will be useful for breathing underwater, and a timer module.
I also find that the life support is being kept active by the auxiliary power module.
Thank you Binky, for the air I breathe.
Having explored the ship thoroughly enough that I’m sick of the long descriptions, I go back to the living room and climb the ladder to the airlock, automatically wearing my rebreather as I exit.
The ship seems to be trying to destroy us by bombing the water. I suppose spaceships are equipped with depth charges now.
On the next screen I find a weed patch that, according to the description, looks like the infamous Venus Man Trap. That sounds dangerous, so I take a closer look.
Having my head ripped off is a rather violent way to die.
On the next screen I find some medical waste, that I don’t seem to be able to take. I try a few things with it.
Much funnier than, “That doesn’t work.”
On the same screen is a mine. I take a closer look…
Having died a few times I notice an interface convenience I really appreciate. On dying, I don’t have to reload a save game, the game automatically returns me to the point just before my death, with my inventory intact. It doesn’t sound like much but it’s a major convenience considering the amount of times I’m likely to die in the game. And as the Fourth Law of Adventure Gaming states, the chances of you randomly dying increases exponentially with the length of time played since you last saved the game.
On another screen I find a tunnel surrounded by holes. A fish swims toward the tunnel, but a purple tentacle comes out of one of the holes and eats it.  I try throwing both a dead fish (which I found on a previous screen) and my burger at the hole, but the tentacle just eats the fish and ignores the burger.
I at some point try putting the burger in the dead fish, and that works.
I also take the binoculars that are hanging by a poster of a naked woman.
I go back outside and throw my stuffed fish at the tentacle. The toxicity of my old burger is obviously not terribly palatable, even to a tentacle monster, because it kills him.
Again, funnier than the usual, “Nothing happens.”
After swimming through the now-safe hole, I come to the surface in a small pool in a cave. I exit the cave and find myself in a land of grassy fields. I explore the fields until I die.
Now I know how Super Mario’s enemies feel.
So far, all the creatures in this place seem obsessed with removing my head. With Bouncing Betty blocking the way north, I try a different direction.
To the west I find a witch doctor’s hut, which contains a few interesting items. I take some poison darts, which Rex assumes contain head-shrinking poison due to the shrunken heads the witch doctor seems to be collecting. There is also a cage containing a creature, but I don’t seem to be able to do anything with it for now.
I’ll note that all inventory objects have distinct verbs associated with them. I’m sure many of them are useful, but some are probably just there for comedic purposes.
Here I am, channeling my inner Larry Laffer, or is it Roger Wilco?
Moving further to the west, I hear some noises from the top of a palm tree, but pushing or talking to the tree doesn’t do anything useful.
Attempting to pass into the next screen has the noisy creature (similar to a monkey) throw something at me and steal one of my items.
Because the monkey ran in the direction I’ve already explored, I ignore him for now and continue west. On the next screen, I find what appears to be a human woman and I get to have my first conversation.
She doesn’t believe I’m a real man, so gives me a test to… test my manhood, I suppose.
I had to guess this one. But I guessed correctly. Does that mean I’m a real man or not?
After I show my manly knowledge, she invites me into her hut. After entering the door, we go to a new scene with people watching a security camera. I assume they have security cameras in every hut. Big Sister is real, people.
The bump under the bear rug moves in a way that reminds me of The Sims Woohoo animation. Welcome to ‘Naughty Mode’, ladies and gentlemen.
The women looking on wonder if they can use me so that Gyrain doesn’t have to go through the Gender Bender. I feel like I’ve got enough evidence to give me a solid idea of what the society of this planet is. Like the mythical Amazons, it’s an all female society that uses men for reproductive purposes. The difference being this society has invented a device that turns women into men. What this doesn’t explain though, is why they tried to kill me by blowing up my ship if they prefer to use me for reproduction? Of course it’s also possible I’m significantly wrong with my interpretation of their society.
After the security room cutscene, I’m now alone in the hut and look around. The only seemingly useful item is a twinkifruit, an obvious combination of a twinkie and fruit. I take it.
Outside, I find a clothesline containing bras made from animal hides and hotpants made from straw.
An obvious setup to me being mistaken for a woman many times in this game.
Moving further into the village, I find another woman. This lady doesn’t like me as much and kicks me in the… well, this is a game with naughty humour, where do you think she kicks me?
Good guess
I end up back outside the village. Exploring the land again, I find some leaves next to a bush.
I also find out where the monkey went after stealing my binoculars.
At this point, I decided to restart the game to see if there was a noticeable difference between the Nice/Naughty and Easy/Hard modes.
And on restarting the game I come across the game’s copy protection.
I wonder what happens if I get this wrong…
This game really really hates Rex Nebular’s head.
Trying again and correctly answering the copy protection question, I restarted the game in Nice and Easy Mode, and immediately found a difference – when the topless woman comes up out of the water in view of my probe’s camera, the camera cuts out much earlier.
This is where the camera cuts out in Nice Mode
Naughty Mode’s probe continues working for longer before cutting out
Weirdly, the topless woman poster in Rex’s living quarters is exactly the same in Nice and Naughty Mode. The most noticeable difference between Nice and Naughty Mode ended up being the death sequences. Like the previous example, Nice Mode cuts the death sequences much earlier. Using the example of the weed patch I first died in, I don’t get to see Rex’s head get ripped off and blood slowly dissolving into the water in this mode. I found this interesting, as I thought Nice/Naughty would only be in relation to sex or nudity. I liked that it included violence as well – it makes it seem less like a gimmick.
Playing further on Easy Mode, I noticed a single difference in the puzzle difficulty while underwater. I didn’t have to combine the burger with the dead fish to kill the tentacle monster, as I could just swim through the hole without the monster coming out and killing me. 
But then I came to a puzzle that had been solved in Easy Mode but I hadn’t solved myself in Hard Mode yet.
Oops. I spoiled myself by playing in Easy Mode.
Now, I really should have anticipated this. I’m an idiot. That leaf-covered pit I found in Easy Mode is just an uncovered pit in Hard Mode. Easy Mode also hinted that I’d need some bait. Having screwed up by playing Easy Mode for too long, I sheepishly went back to my Hard Mode playthrough.
Now, whether I’d have worked this solution out myself in Hard Mode is a question I can’t answer. I like to think I’d have worked it out, and even if not, my try everything on everything technique would have worked eventually, but in my defense, I think the game tried to trick me.
Now, tell me I’m just stupid and unobservant, but this picture and description had me thinking these leaves would be best used as food rather than covering a large pit.
Anyway, I used my spinach leaves (which I admit had been found on the same screen as the pit) on the pit, and now I had my leaf-covered pit.
How 3 big spinach leaves covers this pit completely without falling in is beyond me, but thanks for the help, Easy Mode.
I tried putting my twinkifruit on the leaves, which worked. As I stand behind a bush (Rex clearly not even attempting to hide), the large big-mouthed woman who jumped on me and ate my head earlier came bouncing towards my pit trap. She fell in head-first and all I could see were her legs wiggling above the pit.
Well, technically Rex shouldn’t know about the ‘large hungry one’ because the only times I met her earlier I died and the game restored me to before I saw her. Seems the game’s fallen in a spinach-covered plot hole of its own.
I wondered if perhaps saving her might get her to help me, but the game had different ideas.
Oh well, if the game wants me to leave her in the pit I’m not going to argue. And now that I can move beyond the place I first saw the large lady, I continue on and find another screen with a hut – this time with a ladder I can climb.
I take this as a clue I’ll need to get my binoculars back from the monkey thief.
After picking up a few bones I go north, and find another unfriendly woman. This time she doesn’t just kick me, she shoots me with a ray gun.
I may have a big hole in my chest, but at least I have my head this time.
I go back to the palm tree the monkey is hanging out on and try everything I can think of with the monkey and the tree. After a while I discover something I hadn’t noticed earlier – though I couldn’t do anything with the bamboo bush, one of the stalks was laying on the ground next to it. I take it.
Having made a blowgun out of a hollow reed and poison recently in Amazon: Guardians of Eden, I took a guess at what I should do next.
I use my head-shrinking poison darts on the plant stalk and have the option to shoot or hose down with my blowgun. I assumed the hose down option would just involve me spitting through the blowgun, but it turned out hosing down meant shooting darts at him.
I take my binoculars from the ground and go back north to the screen with the ladder. I use my binoculars to look at the area that the woman with the ray gun was patrolling. Rex comments on what she’s doing, and when she enters a machine, I see a closeup of a glove pushing buttons.
After seeing the woman teleport away, Rex falls down, breaking the ladder (purely so I can’t use it again I expect).
Now that Zatox the Raygunner has left I can safely go north, so I do. I also note that the binoculars are likely only useful in very specific places.
Maybe I’m looking through the wrong end of the binoculars this time.
I use the teleporter, typing in the code I saw with my binoculars, and end up in an area that’s already occupied.
Xina: Warrior Princess?
And with that, we’ll end for now. Tune in next time when I attempt to escape from  the Leather Goddesse… the Amazon priestesses… the women of this alien complex. Sorry – I keep playing games where I’m captured by a purely female society – it gets confusing.
I’m enjoying this game so far. The humour’s still working for me and the puzzles are challenging enough. I’m still disappointed I didn’t get to solve the spinach pit puzzle by myself but I have nobody but myself to blame for that one. See you next week.
Session Time: 2 hours Total Time: 2 hours
Note Regarding Spoilers and Companion Assist Points: There’s a set of rules regarding spoilers and companion assist points. Please read it here before making any comments that could be considered a spoiler in any way. The short of it is that no points will be given for hints or spoilers given in advance of me requiring one. Please…try not to spoil any part of the game for me…unless I really obviously need the help…or I specifically request assistance. In this instance, I’ve not made any requests for assistance. Thanks!
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