#technically. i will probably take this down after i wrap up the convention n go on a brief break

[beeteal]

HI EVERYONE!! big announcement - i’ll be boothing at THOUGHT BUBBLE FESTIVAL 2024!! ive been super excited about this. ill be having a lot of prints, some comics, n also my godzilla stickers are making a comeback. ill be spotty for a while due to travelling but if you’re gonna be there drop a hi! you can also ask me abt reserving stock if you really want something from my wares…or ask me about my comics. because i love to talk about those guys. ANYWAY THANK YOU IF U SUPPORT!!!

[poguesholland]

Could you do a Harrison imagine where he’s really stressed and the Holland boys know your the only one who can calm him down thanks xx (I hope this made sense)

“Y/N, I know you said you had a really important meeting today but Harrison is- God, he’s terrible Y/N. We don’t know what to do. He won’t eat or drink or come out of his room.” Tom sighs, rushing his words out. He sounded guilty for calling you when you had told them how important today was. “It’s okay Tom, I’ll be there as soon as I can, Okay?” You reassure him, not feeling so reassured yourself. You end the call and call your assistant, telling her that you have to reschedule for tomorrow. “But Miss Y/N, this meeting is-“ you cut her off, “I know Leen, but something important came up”.

You had been staying at a hotel for the past two weeks for a convention. It was taking so long because of COVID-19 which meant the organizers of this event had to take more precautions and spread out the activities over a longer period of time so there wouldn’t be too much one-on-one contact. After quarantining with Harrison and the boys for four months, leaving him when you spent every second together was just as hard on you as it was on him. You knew he was really upset that you had to leave but the fact that Tom called you meant that he was extremely upset.

You got in an uber as soon as you rushed to pack all of your stuff and try to sneak past the media who would question you. You sighed as your uber parked in front of the boys’ flat, giving him the money and a tip before thanking him. The driver helped you take out your luggage and you rolled it up to the door, which was already open. “Thank god, Y/N!” Tom sighed happily before bringing you into a hug. You laugh and hug him back, “You couldn’t last one week without me, could you guys?”. He smiles and shakes his head as he pulls away, taking in your bags and giving Harry a chance to hug you.

The others were out as you could guess, stepping into the flat and not finding anyone there. Tessa barks and runs up to you, wagging her tail in excitement. “Tessa!” you say excitedly, already being tackled on the floor as she licked your face. Giggles leave your mouth as Harry tries to pry her off of you. “We’d ask about your trip but I think there’s something else you need to do before that” Tom hints and you nod your head. You leave the boys and head into the hallway, noticing the only door that was closed was Harrison’s door. You knock on the door and a moody Harrison yells out, “Would you divs fuck off and leave me alone?”, probably thinking you were Tom or Harry.

“Okay fine, I’ll leave you alone Haz, gosh so rude.” You sigh dramatically as you enter the room. Harrison’s eyes widen as he sits up from his bed immediately, mouth hung wide open. “I- What! What are you doing here?” He says in disbelief as you take off your shoes and walk over to him. “No I don’t even wanna know” He interrupts you, shoving his Macbook off of the bed and pulling you on top of him. You squeal, wrapping your arms around his neck as Harrison throws a leg over your body, squishing you with his heavy body. “I missed you- so, so much” Harrison mumbles as he kisses your face repeatedly, causing you to laugh.

You stop the rushed boy by cupping his face with your hands and pressing your lips against his for a sweet kiss. He sighs into the kiss, not letting you pull away from it as both of you savored this moment. You missed his kisses and the taste of his lips against yours, no amount of words would be able to describe how much you missed him. Both of you pull away for air and you leave kisses from Harrison’s jaw to his neck, knowing he loves being loved on. You move your face back up to his and see Harrison already looking at you with so much admiration. He brings you into a short but still passionate kiss before hugging you, technically cuddling since you were laying down.

“What’s going on, Haz? Tom called me and sounded really worried about you.” You softly speak to the sleepy boy laying on you, running your hands through his hair. Harrison rested his head on your chest, loving the feeling of your hands in his hair. “I- I don’t know. I just really missed you and it felt to weird to be apart from you after quarantine together, and- I’m so sorry I made you leave, I feel like such a baby and—“ Harrison tries to apologize, getting worked up but you hear his voice crack and notice the tears welling up in his eyes. You cut him off by lifting his head up to look at you, wiping a tear that escaped his eye.

“It’s okay baby, I’m here now, no need to apologize.” You reassure him, smiling softly as you leave a kiss on his forehead. He calms down and rests in your embrace, appreciating the feeling of you with him. “Love you so much, and I missed you so much.” Harrison sighs. “I love you too Haz.” You answer him, running your hands through his hair then tracing his facial features. “Do you wanna eat something baby? You must be hungry.” You suggest and Harrison nods. You get up and take out a sweatshirt from his closet, taking off your work attire and putting it on. Harrison just sits up and watches you, almost not fully comprehending that you were here. With him.

You open the door and do a ‘come here’ motion with your fingers, making him laugh quietly before getting up and walking towards you. Once he reaches you, he leans down to your height and pulls you into a tight hug. His shirtless chest radiates his body heat onto yours and you squeeze him a bit tighter. “Come on, Haz.” You lead him out of his room after both of you pull away. You feel his arms wrap around your waist, head resting against your shoulder as you go into the kitchen and see Tom and Harry. “Well, well, well. We see you finally finished hibernating” Harry says ironically, both Tom and him beyond glad to see their best friend happy.

Harrison laughs and you hold his hands that were wrapped around your waist. “Yes he did, and it’s thanks to Tom and I.” You laugh and so does Tom. You pull away from Harrison, “Did you guys eat dinner?” and all three boys shake their heads ‘no’. You raise your eyebrows, “Okay I’ll make dinner.” and they all thank you. As you walk to the other side of the kitchen, Harrison goes to stand behind the kitchen island with Harry and Tom. “Thank you guys so much for this, I really appreciate it.” Harrison genuinely thanks his best friends. “Of course mate.” “Anytime, we’re just happy you’re happy again.” They smile at him. He really was happy again.

[happysoldlady]

Safe - Ezekiel Reyes

a/n: I’m really out here writing an EZ drabble after making him in sims for @imagineredwood​ El Destino fanfic. I’m really going through a phase. hope you all enjoy!

There had been very few times in EZ’s life where he would say that he felt safe. Maybe when he was a boy, wrapped up in the arms of his mother, Marisol. Or maybe even as a teenager, when he knew that Papa Reyes would always defend him. But to say that he’s ever felt safe in his adult life would be a lie. EZ hasn’t been able to relax in years, it seems. Not since he pulled the trigger that night, and probably not for several months before then either. 

But there was something about you. Something contradicting about the way you were the most graceful person he knew, and also the clumsiest. EZ could admit that you weren’t graceful in the conventional way. That, he knew, the minute you burnt your leg trying to get onto his bike. No, you were graceful for all the ways that you loved him, and his family (including his slew of patched brothers). You were graceful for the way that you showed empathy for everyone you met. You were graceful for the way you were the same honest and caring person, even when no one was looking. 

EZ found himself drawn to you, lulled into a security that he hadn’t felt in years. After a hard day of trying to please his brothers, and also his actual brother, he would race home to you. Sometimes you were up waiting for him, but when you had work early the next day, he would find his plate in the microwave, with a note letting him know how much you loved him. EZ always figured that he could do without the note, the fact that you left him a plate saying enough, but he never complained. In fact, he kept all the notes that you left him in his wallet as reminders of your love for him. 

Sometimes when he found himself alone in a tunnel at 3AM, he would use the light from his lamp to dig one out and ease his anxiety. As a man in his situation, fear was never an option, but man or not, he still had worries and your notes provided him with enough solace and motivation to get the job done. If not for any other reason, than so he could go home and see you curled in a ball in the bed the two of you technically shared, but so often didn’t due to his late nights. 

Tonight, was one of those nights. So when he (finally) pulled his bike into the driveway at damn near 4AM, he swear he’d never felt so relieved in his life. He unlocked the front door, shuffling inside and then locking it back quietly. He removed his shoes on the mat next to the door, and then walked to the kitchen where the light above the stove was still on, telling him that there was a plate of food in the microwave. He opened it up, not even actually hungry, but really needed one of your notes. Much to his demise, he’s only met with a plate of spaghetti and two pieces of garlic bread. Despite his disappointment, he heats up the food anyway, not even able to recall eating a meal since the one he had heated up the previous night. 

Awaking to the noise of the microwave running, you can’t help but smile into the dark. He’s home. And he’s safe. That was all you could really ask for. You let out a breath and then smoothed down your bedhead before padding quietly to the kitchen. There he was, leaning against the sink with his large arms crosses over his chest as he waited for his food. His cut was hung over the back of one of the dining chairs, leaving him in just a white quarter-sleeved shirt and jeans. You smile, and as you get closer, he looks up, his face immediately full of sorrow.

“Hey baby,” He says quietly, opening his arms as you continue walking toward him. You wrap your arms around him and rest your head against his chest. “I’m sorry if I woke you.” 

You shake your head. “No. I’m glad you did. I’ve missed you.” 

The microwave beeps, signaling that his food is done but neither of you move. Relishing in the warmth of each other, both of you having missed the other. 

“God, I’ve missed you too, mi amor.” EZ whispers, planting a kiss to your head. You smile against his chest and then step back, allowing him the space so he can eat. 

“Have you eaten anything today?” You ask. The simple shrug he gives you is enough for you to know that he hasn’t. You wrap your arms around yourself as you watch him shuffle to stir the pasta, making sure it’s warm all the way through. 

He carries the plate to the table and sits, immediately digging in. You sit across from him in a comfortable silence while he eats, satiated by just being near each other. 

“I’m going to go take a shower while you eat.” You say, standing and planting a kiss to his cheek before walking off to get ready for the day. 

After about a 15 minute shower, you dry yourself off, tie your hair up into a towel and shuffle your way back to the kitchen, only to find a single, washed plate in the sink bin, and no EZ. You pout, and then turn to see him lying on the couch, in only a pair of boxers, passed out. 

You pick up his clothes and put them into the hamper, and then spread out a blanket over him but as you lean down to kiss him, he stirs awake and his beautiful brown eyes bore into yours. 

“I’m sorry. I took a little nap.” 

You smile and shake your head. “I know you’re tired, EZ. Rest.” 

He stubbornly shakes his head and sits up, a little disoriented from the short nap. “No, I wanna hang out with you.”

He sits up on the couch, tossing the blanket beside him and looks up at you. You smile and slide onto his lap, running your fingers through his hair. He looks up at you with such love and adoration that it makes your heart swell. 

And EZ, well, he’s whipped for sure. He figures that if he died right at this moment, with you on his lap, running your fingers soothingly against his scalp, he’d be satisfied. Because no matter what deal he’s made, or shit he has to put up with, he knows that right here with you is the only place in the world where he feels truly...safe?

“You wanna know something?” EZ says, figuring that he’s never really thought about it before now. You raise an eyebrow, with a small, satisfied grin. He opens his mouth, but just as quickly, he closes it and shakes his head. 

EZ watches as your eyebrows scrunch together and your hands stop moving through his hair. “No, EZ. Tell me. What is it?” 

He sighs, and tells himself that he only says it out loud because he’d tell you anything to keep your fingers in his hair. “I’ve never felt so safe in my life, as I feel when I’m with you.” He lifts his head and plants his lips against your own. The kind of kiss that leaves you breathless and wanting. The kind of kiss that you never want to end. “I love you,” He says, his lips still attached to yours. 

You smile and lean back against his thighs, watching as his eyes roll back at the small movement. “I love you too, Ezekiel.”

[cadcnce-archived]

          BIG ASS CHARACTER SHEET FOR                    FANTASY VERSE WYLAN

I found an image while going through my files for cursed pics to send @spiritmaiden​, they had the audacity to take it and fill it out for the fantasy verse of their sky-zel, so I of course have to match the effort for Wylan because I’m not about to be shown up. It’s hella involved, nobody’s getting tagged but damn if you want an exercise in hitting your character then give it a shot. Most is under the cut because of length.

Character’s Name: Zachary Reis (Born) Wylan Rechtur (Used) Character’s nicknames: Ze (by his sister) Wy (by his friends and preferred) Zephyr (mercenary name, also what you’d see on any wanted posters) Gender: Male Righty or Lefty: Righty Age: 25-26  Height: 6′-0″  Weight: ~180 lbs Eye Color: Emerald green, bright and wide filled with a mix of confidence and playfulness. Hair color: Dark brown, messy and falling to his ears. Unkempt may be a good descriptor, but he generally keeps it down flatter at the least.  Distinguishing marks: His body is pocked with marks and scars from fights and other disagreements, but the ones most easily discerned are knife scars on his hands, and a short arc above his left brow. Describe physical traits in one passage: A good way to view him is concealed strength and agility. He’s toned and in good shape but doesn’t often dress or carry himself in ways that would flaunt this. His posture and pose are loose, and his expressions can be lazy and playful. So the moment he flips that switch and uses the full brunt of his power? It’s a surprise. He’s also a bit on the lanky side, his body size doesn’t fully compliment the size of his limbs. 

FAMILY/ RELIGION

Parents: Mother and father were disappeared/dead when he was just a bit over 6 years old and his sister was an infant. They were involved with the church but not royalty themselves. Wylan never spent much time figuring out what. They had a life left for him and his sister that he threw away as well. His father was a gentle soul while his mother was razor sharp and firm. Siblings: Younger sister, Katelynn Reis, but goes by Lyn with her friends. Wylan calls her Kat. She’s ~5 years younger than he, and remains with the church training and working as a healer. Whereas Wylan ran away from being a Paladin, she stayed strong to become a Cleric.  Significant Other: Verse dependent, Wylan typically is averse to romance and prefers casual encounters.  Children: None, nor is he open to them initially in his canon.  Other relatives: None remain living that he is aware of. He and his sister were raised by his grandmother on his father’s side, but she passed away shortly after he left the knight’s academy, when Wylan was roughly 16-17.  Pets: None. But he does enjoy talking to cats. Friends: Wylan is the type who ‘knows a guy’, he’s close with many tavernkeeps and makes nice with the adventurer’s guilds and their members as well. His work as an informant necessitates things like this. Wylan is also the type to consider most anyone he encounters and converses with a friend, whether they like it or not. His best friend though would easily be a wandering adherent by the name of Emke. I don’t care what the thread is about in some way she’s involved in his life. They’re platonic soulmates. Enemies: As a mercenary and hunter, some others in his craft would consider Wylan to be their rival, and in many cases he would view them just the same. It’s hard to say he has any enemies outside of pointedly evil factions however! Relationships (other): His relationship with his sister is an odd one. They’re still in touch via letters and the occasional visit, and he does what he can to support her with his money, but they’re not close like conventional siblings. There’s a strange codependence between them. Wylan depends on Lyn as a ‘rock’, and she depends on him as the ‘sea’. Ethnicity: Human! His origins are mostly a mix of Germanic/Portuguese if you wanted a comparison to Earth races/ethnicities. Religion: He recognizes the existence of higher powers but his relationship with them isn’t the best. As if being rebellious to his parents wasn’t bad enough he has to be tsundere towards The Light. This is noted when he uses holy magic such as wards and smiting spells and getting rebound into his own body upon use. Superstitions: He’s incredibly wary around the undead and spirits. So catch him spreading salt when he has to camp somewhere less than lively. Also give him a moment to sharpen his silver weaponry...  Diction, Accent, ETC.: His dialect is pretty clean, though this depends on who he’s speaking to, being the travelling sort he is he’s capable of lightly ‘faking’ various accents, or just being lazy with his own manner of speech. Traces back to proper speaking that was drilled into him as a child and then his own rebelliousness. SCHOOL/ WORK / HOME Education (Highest): He was well learned with the academy work that he actually accomplished. While he never finished and never put his all into his studies, it was clear to his teachers that he had a gift for learning but a problem with conviction.  Degrees: None! But just so I still have something here, one of his informal titles is ‘The Gale’s Fang’. Vocation/Occupation: Jack of several trades, wrapped up best as a mercenary informant, and a monster hunter. He’s good at tracking both people and monsters and taking them down- lethally or not so much. Employment History: Wylan was fully involved with the knight’s academy from the age of 6 to 16, so for those 10 years he had his hands full dealing with that and trying to figure out himself (poorly). Upon leaving the academy after the accident, he took up arms and was given tutelage by the thieves’ guild which taught him how to use his senses and move quietly through the shadows. Wylan didn’t make a good pickpocket, but he was good at reading other people and exceptional at duels. It wasn’t long before he took the advice of the guildmaster and made better uses of his talents. Not necessarily for good, but for more profit. By the age of 22 he was an accomplished and well connected informant, bartering information as well as putting his swordwork to use headhunting and slaying monsters that made issue outside the cities in which he frequented. This continues to current/canon start of interactions. Salary: He’s affluent enough not to worry too much about his state of living, but he can be prone to splurge spending that puts him in a bind for a few weeks at a time, at least until the next job puts money back on the table. Status and money: Continuing off the above, he’s decent enough with his funds (after sending money back to help out his sister) but wouldn’t be well off enough to be considered rich compared to his modern verse. Fortunately he has enough renown that jobs aren’t too hard to come by for him. And many barkeeps and friends are willing to open a tab for him. So he’s not too desperate.  Own or Rent: Wylan typically rents inn rooms when he stays in the cities, and camps when he’s out in the woods. Technically he also owns if you count helping his sister keep her own place running (thought it’s really about 30-70, with his sister funding most of it)  Living Space: Wylan never stays long at the room. It’s a place to go back to and sleep. Personal belongings? Very few. Most things he owns that he wouldn’t want to lose stay back with his sister kept in a basement or separate room that he uses on the rare times he’s back in the capital/holy city from which he originally hailed. As you can imagine, this isn’t very often.  Work Space: N/A! He doesn’t have one! Given his work is almost entirely in the field. Main Mode of Transportation: CATCH A RIIIIIDE. Though he’s apt to have a horse around for transport if he isn’t going too far. Long voyages for when he changes locales would probably be hitching a ride with a caravan. He also doesn’t mind voyages on foot too much. PSYCHOLOGY Fears: Externally he has an aversion to ghosts and spirits. The concept of the dead coming back to haunt you isn’t something he much cares for. Having access to light magic should mostly assuage this, and yet it can give him goosebumps anyhow. Ironically he has a fear of large mammals in his modern verse but that shit doesn’t apply here given he’s a monster hunter! Internally he fears being forgotten, not making a name for himself, and dying before he can truly feel alive.  Secrets: His birth name, Zachary Reis, isn’t something he will bring up with anyone. It’s not necessarily a ‘dead name’ for him, but it’s one he threw away the same time he decided he was going to toss away his ‘fate’ as a paladin. Taking the name of Wylan was another way he took his life for himself in his mind. Despite this being a path of self destruction. His sister is also something he doesn’t often bring up unless he very much trusts that person.  IQ: Surprisingly high. He picks up a lot of information doing the work he does, but you wouldn’t be blamed for not believing this. Eating Habits: They could be a lot better. He eats enough to get by, but his diet isn’t as varied as it could be. Wylan hunts small game when he can, but he isn’t an exciting cook so ALAS. This boy prefers hitting up taverns and getting basic meals like stews, jerky, sandwiches, etc etc. Sleeping Habits: Wylan is a very light sleeper. Typically if you so much as step into the room he’s sleeping in he’ll snap into awareness. It takes a loooong day of exertion to keep him sleeping deep otherwise. Frustrating is how he ‘fakes’ being asleep. So someone could come in and start rummaging and he would still breathe and move as if he were still sleeping. Up until he sits up and stares or cracks a joke. Dare you to kiss him when you think he’s asleep.   Book Preferences: History tomes every now and then. Wylan doesn’t read much fiction and prefers any time he spends reading to be somewhat productive! Make up for other education he missed as part a result of running on the academy. He also reads up on magic and sorcery to work on the wind affinity he also has.  Music Preferences: Wylan doesn’t play any instruments but he DOES love love love to dance and sing. He’s an entertainer at heart and loves to rally people however he may. Suffice to say he’s amusing to go drinking with. And not just because he starts bar fights to amuse himself. Groups or Alone: He’s primarily a lone fighter. Some hunts he will of course work with a team of other hunters, he’s not stupid enough to take on the larger beasts by himself, but there’s a preference for doing things on his own terms. He’s self aware enough to know that his ways and methods can be grating, but ah... how all of that clashes with his desire to show off and have an audience. Being Wylan is suffering. Leader or Follower: He’s both, but prefers to be a follower if he can help it. Let other people make the plans then nudge them this way and that to better fit your own methods. He’s a prankster and a good compliment to most parties after all, so you’d be wise to utilize him! Lest he utilize himself... but that said, he’s an anti-hero, so there’s possibility in there for him to be a leader as well and take charge. It just isn’t his default nature and he’d rather not. Planned Out or Spontaneous: Wylan is chaos incarnate. Most everything he does outside of necessity/work is spontaneous. All his mischief and plans are cobbled together and thrown out there. Sometimes he’ll do a bunch of things at once, like throwing a bundle of darts at the wall to see which ones stick. And oh my fucking god don’t get me started on being romantic he can’t plan for shit in that department. Journal Entries (Do they keep one?) Nope. Not a daily journal at least. He’ll keep notebooks and the like for jotting down intel and what have you for jobs he takes up. But most of the time he’ll just have little notes in his pocket, and not really chronicle his life. He may also make ‘fake’ entries to tease people or trick them. See what he did to Zelda the one time. Be careful what you believe... Hobbies, Recreation: Tricks!! Sleight of hand!! Cards and dice!! Part of growing up and learning with a thieves’ guild is getting involved in lots of things that make use of your hands and dexterity. He likes playing random games with folks and oh! People watching. Stalking. Not the cutest thing but Wylan makes a hobby out of ‘testing himself’ and exercising his talents. His hobby is unfortunately annoying people, to summarize. How Do They Relax: His hobbies help him to relax! Also, if you can believe it, sitting back in a group conversation and watching the conversation happen and move forward. Learning about other people is something he likes doing, which is hypocritical since he can make himself so difficult to learn by contrast. BUT THE REAL THING HE DOES.. is practice sword fighting. Slow rhythmic swings of his blade, almost like a dance. He focuses his thoughts and calms his soul when he practices. It’s like a mix of swordfighting, dancing, and yoga. Controlling himself. Feeling himself. It’s multiple things.    What Excites Them?: PEOPLE. Things! Happenings! The unknown and pushing himself to new limits. Honestly one of Wy’s biggest drives is doing something or becoming something that will make him ‘Feel Alive’. Because for all of his antics and frivolity he’s very much fighting an encroaching darkness in his soul. So he’ll search out bizarre things to get involved in. It’s one of the reasons he’s bugging Zelda, because her involvement in witchcraft and his own suspicions have him interested huehue. Pet Peeves: Being ignored. Like perfectly disregarding his existence and whatever he’s getting up to. If you’re not reacting to him being him then that means he’s not being effective and he’s losing. It’s his only real weakness...  Prejudices: None. He’s not the most respectful person so most everyone, royalty or important or otherwise gets subjected to similar treatment. If anything, the more important you are the more likely you are to get annoyed! Attitudes: He’s usually with a front, a mask if you will. His general attitude is curious and nosy, but that’s fronted with a playfulness and proclivity for being annoying. Don’t be fooled, he’s usually something more pensive and calculating underneath that exterior. Wylan actually quiets a fair bit once that mask is taken away, his mood swings down and his tone is a touch deeper. Stressors: Things going awry and his friends being put in danger. He absolutely does not do well with people he cares about being hurt. One of the worst things that can happen to him is his sister dying for example, and has lead to one of his most self destructive plots I’ve written, in this verse especially. Lovers? Don’t hurt them. Don’t endanger them. The idea of rivals or enemies going after people he cares about.. hoo. MAN. None of that please. He can be SO damn possessive. In relationships he’s very self conscious as well of fulfilling their needs. So if his partner remarks, regardless of how offhandedly, they’d like more of something he will TRY TO MAKE THAT HAPPEN.  Obsessions: Being an absolute pain in the ass. And in cases where someone has wronged him or someone close to him? Tracking them down and getting closure/revenge. That shit takes him to the brink of killing himself. Addictions: None to the point of being problematic, but he does love eating pickles.  Ambitions: To make a name for himself, to be renowned and respected. To feel alive and accomplished as a person. He’d also like to take down a dragon someday. Get some armor from its scales and a sword out of that shit. As Seen by Others: Capable and dangerous, but impossible to work with for long periods. Keep a tight lip around him lest he use that information against you and learn things you’d rather keep secret. A lecherous womanizer. As Seen by Self: A body of broken glass, encased in a shell, covered in masks. Who are you? What are you? Where are you even going? You’re lost. You’re aimless. You’re swimming and swimming and eventually you’re going to be tired, aren’t you? ASTROLOGY/PHISIOLOGY Birth Date: October 10. Time of Birth: Evening. Western Astrological Sign: Libra Traits Associated with Western Sign: Social, Clever, Unreliable, Diplomatic Traits Associated with Chinese Zodiac: N/A, seeing as I don’t age Wylan with the years this doesn’t really apply. Handwriting: Clean when he needs it to be, but otherwise a quick script with lots of pen strikes. He’s capable with drawing diagrams and the like as well! This boy can throw out monster diagrams with weak points and other ecological notes oh yes yes. Sexual History: Wylan was already exploring that sort of thing before he left the academy, so yes... as early as 16 he’d already lost the v-card. He doesn’t really do relationships and enjoys casual encounters. Many a maiden at the bar or elsewhere has taken him for a spin. Typically partners aren’t reoccurring in fantasy verse, however. He’s... well, very good in the performance category.   General Health: A+ healthy aside from the sleep and subpar diet bits. Strong and good stamina. Medical History: He’s nearly died one times too many. Been stabbed, cut, poisoned, bitten, but hey he’s still alive! And that’s what he’d argue matters with this business. Allergies: SHELLFISH. Chronic Illnesses: None to speak of. Handicaps: He’s somewhat of a type B tsundere. It’s awful.  OBJECTS Purse / Bag: He’s got a coin purse that he’ll carry spare gold around in for spending on what have you. Supposedly food but he’s weak to splurge purchases. Most everything else he keeps on him in his pockets and his belt. Wallet: Uhhh see above, coin purse!!! He’s got enough for the week or so!! Don’t try and pickpocket him because he will catch you and you will feel stupid. Fridge: He doesn’t keep food around. He more or less has to scavenge for everything he eats either through buying or hunting. That’s kind of the life for the vagrant he is, isn’t it? Medicine Cabinet: N/A, but he does keep bandages and salves at his room.  Glove Compartment: N/A!! Junk Drawer: NNNNNN/AAAAAAA Kitchen Cabinets: Wylan get a house so I can fill this out challenge. Bedroom Hiding Place: Behind a wall panel or somesuch if he can manage. Otherwise in the floor or outside the window. Closets: His wardrobe typically includes tunics, coats, leather armor and harnesses for his weaponry! He’s got a couple swords in fantasy verse, and he’s got throwing knives and a grappling hook!!  Backback: Yeah uh see above, what a question. Locker: None Desk: WYLAN KEEP ITEMS AROUND CHALLEEEEENGE.  Clothes pocket: Daggers, notes, maybe a writing implement and paper so he can jot things down. He’s also got little knick knacks like a gem or a monster tooth to show off. Isn’t it cool??? Also lint.

OTHER Halloween Costumes: Werewolf!!! Get him in either just a lazy one with gloves and ears or deck him out in the whole garb. Love that idea on him. In one verse Big Bad Wolf is his nickname, and in another he flat out IS a werewolf! So yeAH. Tricks: He’s very skilled at sleight of hand!! Card flourishes and dice rolls. Cup games. Illusions and dexterity... he’s a slippery one! He’s also likely to catch you in words, using things you say against you. He gets really meta and oh how annoying that can get... Talents: SWORDPLAY- He learned from a very early age at an esteemed academy where only the best knights get trained. He mixes that style with a more ‘street’ type that he picked up with the thieves’ guild and even further as a monster hunter and mercenary. Suffice to say that all mixes together into multiple stances he can switch between depending on what he’s up against. Strong sweeping strikes, vicious stabbing and leaping, poised dueling and parrying... he’s a TOUGH fight. MAGIC: Wylan is at odds with his use of holy magic that utilizes the light to bless and heal. Until he comes to terms with himself and the power he wants to channel it’ll have ‘blowbacks’ on himself. Fingers will burn, head will ache, and his stomach will flip. But it’s still undeniably effective for where it is! Aside from that he knows some wind magic to supplement himself. He’s not known as ‘Zephyr’ for nothing after all! Gusting steps, slashing winds, REALLY BIG JUMPS!!! If you throw him he’s a fantastic projectile! And lets see- DANCING! He learned it first as part of his etiquette as a knight, but it’s something that’s evolved with him and oh does he enjoy festivals for that reason. Ballroom styles are what he’s most familiar with. Dance with him. Please dance with him. Politics: Indifferent! Doesn’t care for authority figures to begin with so in any case or kingdom with a monarchy he’s very buh about it. He’s very self-accomplished and his beliefs would push him towards meritocracy over anythign else if you ask me!  Flaws: Suspicious, possessive, and very persistent. This could be a strength too but for the most part can be seen as a detriment because of how it ends up being applied. Which is in self-destructive tendencies WOO. He’s also very lustful, and can be distracted by a fine woman and let himself be swayed by his desires over time. Have I mentioned he isn’t the most reliable? He’s apt to lie to people and give intentionally wrong impressions just to make it easier for him to slip away. You gotta go up a few levels to unlock that... So yeah, sins are WRATH, LUST, and ENVY. Strengths: NONE. Okay if you earn a solid place as his friend there is almost NO limit to what he’ll do to protect you. Wylan has a ridiculous amount of determination and mental fortitude and he can and will strike down a GOD to keep those things that are precious to him. He’s also an amusing character to have around, if you are feeling bummed he is almost guaranteed to find a way to cheer you up and support you if only so he can not feel as guilty teasing as he usually does HUE. He’s got a very up beat personality! Sure, a lot of it is a mask but he WANTS it to be real and that’s what really matters if you ask me. His reckless optimism can be endearing. There’s a lot of other surprising mental qualities such as how clever and quick witted he can be. Part of that mental fortitude lets him think and fight on his feet regardless of how much pressure he’s under. It takes a LOT to dampen his thought processes. Drugs/Alcohol: He drinks frequently, but he wouldn’t be counted as a drunkard. Wylan rarely drinks to excess, and prefers to do so among friends and good company. Passwords: Uh, do ritual prayers count? Magical spells? Heh. Email Address, Home Page, Blogs, etc.: Oh if only this were for modern verse... Time and place: Medieval fantasy! Magic and creatures! I also love throwing Monster Hunter vibes in for the big monsters he goes up against. Special Places: For him? Cliffs overlooking the ocean. Abandoned temples he can just chill at. For all he enjoys being around people now and then he really appreciates quiet isolation. Special Memories: Lots of memories with his sister before they more or less split ways. There’s one in particular where he was trying to teach her swordplay when she was just a little girl, and she about stubbed his toe when the wooden practice sword fell right on it. Her panicked attempts to try and heal him were something that really stuck with him.

[supernaturaltfwmeme]

Between the lines. Part 9

Summary:The reader is at Stanford with Sam and a few other familiar faces. She gets introduced to Dean, an FBI agent for help with a paper. The two grow even closer when Dean learns about her daughter and her troublesome situation. Check out the other parts here.

Pairing: Dean x reader.

Warnings: Language, Domestic abuse.

A/N: tags open! sorry this part took so long guys, I've been extremely busy. Also thanks again to @waywardaardvark79​ for being a personal cheerleader again or else i probably wouldn’t of even started this.

When you woke up the next morning your head felt much better. You couldn’t hear any noise in the house, so you decided to go and make breakfast. You crept downstairs and settled on making bacon and eggs since that’s all Dean seemed to have in his fridge other than beer. When you finished you plated it up and went to put it on the table when you jumped, nearly dropping the plate in your hand. Dean was stood leaning in the doorway.

“Jesus Dee, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”  

“Sorry about that sweetheart. You didn’t have to make breakfast you know.”

“I know but you’re doing me a favour since I you basically had to drop everything to keep an eye on me, it’s the least I could do.”

“Hey it’s no bother honestly I'm of work until after Christmas now anyway.”  Dean smiled at you sitting down at the table. Before you could reply Amelia came rushing in. That child had impeccable timing.  

“So Amelia.” You said as you were all about half way through eating breakfast.

“Yes mommy.” The little girl replied with a mouth full of bacon.

“You know how tomorrow is Christmas eve?”

“Yes!” Amelia replied, more than a little excited.

“Well how would you feel about spending Christmas with Sam and Deans family?” You were nervous to ask but it was now or never.

“No we can’t.” She complained. You didn’t miss the look of disappointment on Deans face.

“Why not baby?” You pressed.

“Because Santa won’t know where to deliver my presents.” Amelia said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, making you and Dean chuckle.

“Yes, he will Ame, Santa always knows. He’s magic remember.” Dean explained.

“Ok then.” Amelia simply said, swinging her legs under the table. “Will there be other kids?” You looked at Dean for his answer.

“Claire will be there.” You gave him a puzzled look. Why would his partners kid be there?

“Me and Sammy practically grew up with Cas. And Charlie. There was hardly a day when those two weren’t in my Parents' house. Especially when Charlies parents had the accident, she moved in, didn’t leave till she went to college. And Cas’ home life wasn’t the best so he was around a lot too. And then we all kind of followed each other to California.” Dean explained.

“Oh, I wish I'd grown up with friends like that, it sounds nice.” You said genuinely.  

After breakfast Dean washed up and went to go get dressed you could hear him talking upstairs on the phone but you couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. After a few minutes he came back downstairs before pulling on his shoes and grabbing his keys.

“Hey, I gotta head out I have some last-minute errands to run, but Charlie is on her way over to hang out with you, I should be back in a few hours. We’re heading down to my Parents house tomorrow so you guys could probably use the time to pack.”

“Ok I'll see you later Dee.”

“Bye Dean.” Amelia waved from where she was sitting on the floor. Probably colouring again.

“Bye Ame.” Dean said before leaving. For a few hours you hung out with Charlie before Dean came home. You mainly just watched cheesy Christmas movies with Amelia.  

“Honey I'm home.” Dean said laughing to himself as he walked through the door. You and Charlie rolled your eyes.

“You wish Winchester.” You joked.

“Maybe I was talking to Charlie.” Dean teased.

“In your Dreams Dee.” Charlie laughed.

“Alright, You girls all packed?”

“Yeh we are.” You answered.

“What about you Bradbury?”

“You know me better than that by now.”  

“Of course you’re not.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Are you driving down with us or Cas tomorrow?”

“Oh definitely you guys, Jess and moose can go with Cas this year in his pimpmobile.” Charlie and Dean burst out laughing.

“His what now?” You asked.

“You’ll see sweetheart, and Charlie I'm picking you up at nine then, you know how mom gets when were late so you better go pack.”

“Alright, alright I'm going, the last thing I need is Mary on my ass about us being late... Again.” Charlie said her goodbyes before leaving.

The next day you were up bright and early, Dean was already downstairs cooking. You decided to leave Amelia in bed as long as possible. You grabbed your twos bags and headed downstairs.

“Hey Dee can I borrow your car keys?” Dean looked panicked.

“What? why?”

“So I can out the bags in the car.”

“No leave them by the door I got it. You eat.” Dean said passing you a plate before disappearing. He was acting a little suspicious.

“You got any presents you need to put in the car?”

“Yeah a few it’s a big bag on my bed.”

“Jesus y/n/n what you got in here?” Dean asked carrying the bag down the stairs.

“In my defence they’re mostly Amelia’s.” You called from the kitchen. Dean went to put the presents in the car and came back before joining you at the table.

“Where’s Amelia?”

“Left her in bed a bit longer. She’s really not a morning person.” You laughed.

“Can’t say I blame her.”

It was about 8:15 by the time you finished eating and packing everything in the car. You went to wake Amelia up, you got yourself dressed while she ate and then got her dressed before putting her in the car. By 8:45 you were just waiting for Dean to grab whatever he’s run back inside for and you were ready to go. Dean appeared a minute later with pillow and a blanket, passing them to Amelia before climbing inside the car.

“It’s a longish drive I figured she’d want to nap.” He said before starting the car.

Around midday after driving from about 3 hours give or take, Dean turned down a nice-looking street with some pretty big houses, all white picket fence and all that types. Before pulling into the drive of one of the bugger houses on the street, Charlie practically diving out of the car.

“Woah, are your parents rich or something?” You half joked. Dean laughed.

“No, not at all, our childhood home was actually my grandparents' house originally, it just happened to be old enough to be worth something and they wanted a big house since they technically have four kids.” Dean explained.

“Guess they need the room for when you all start having kids.” You joked.

“Something like that.” You got Amelia out of the car and followed Dean and Charlie into the house.

“Dean, Charlie you’re finally here.” A blonde woman said walking out of the kitchen, her shirt covered in flour, giving them both a hug.

“And Dean this must be the friend you said you were bringing.” She said looking at you. Before you could introduce yourself Amelia caught side of the tallest Winchester and bolted towards him.

“UNCLE SAMMY!” She screamed, practically running into him before he scooped her up.

“Maybe more than a friend then.” The blonde woman said looking at Dean and raising an eyebrow. Dena groaned in response.

“Mom! This is Y/n. As in Y/n who’s at Stanford with Sammy and Charlie.”

“Oh, you mean the Y/n from Sam’s birthday party that you didn’t shut up about for weeks.” Said a man appearing next to the blonde woman. Dean blushed.

“Dad. Really?”

“Oh you know you’re father loves to tease you Dean.” the blonde said before turning to you.

“Hi y/n, I'm Mary and this is my husband John.”

“It’s nice to meet you both.”

“And you and hey if you managed to wrap these four.” John gestured to Dean, Sam, Charlie and Cas. “Around your finger, then welcome to the family kiddo.” You couldn’t help but smile

“Ame, Claire’s probably out back on the swing set if you want to go play with her.” Dean told Amelia.

“I told you it was Ame.” Mary muttered to John confusing you.

“What do you mean?” Charlie.

“John was trying to convince me it was pronounced Amy not am e.”

“Blame Charlie she gave her the nickname.” You joked.

“Well Amelia is such a mouth full.” Charlie complained.

“Like you’ve ever had a problem talking Charlene.” Sam called from the other side of the room.

“Shut it Samuel!” You couldn’t help but laugh. This Family was far from conventional, with the Winchesters taking in Cas and Charlie, but it felt more like a real family than you’re biological one ever did. Part of you Wished you’d met them sooner and maybe you would have had somewhere to turn after your family kicked you out. You were very excited to experience a Winchester Christmas.

Tags: @waywardaardvark79​ @vicmc624​ @frackinawesomeninja​ @carryon-doctor-lock​ @supernatural508​ @heyyy-hey-babyyy​ @rvgrsbrns​ @bluecornflowers​ @tranquility-or-chaos​ @jensensammy @idksupernatural​ @supersassyprobablysad​ @deans-baby-momma​ @satans-0-spawn​ @tearsforhan​ @alphadareme​

[floatingpetals]

Boys in Blue || Pt. 6

Pairings: cop!Stucky x F!Reader

Warnings: little bit of angst, language, floof

Word Count: 4500+

Summary: (Cop AU) There was just one crappy thing after enough that happened to her. It possibly couldn’t get any worse, or so she thought until she saw the dreaded flashes of red and blue behind her. Could things get any worse?

A/N: Thank you for everyone who has been so patient for this part! It’s a longer part and I wanted to make sure I got it right. I also think I needed that break to get my brain working right again. I hope you all enjoy!! Let me know what you think! 

The gif is mine.

Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Series Masterlist

Y/N sat back, her brows furrowed, and her mouth wide open with shock. She wasn’t sure she heard him right and even if she did, where the hell did they get that idea from?

Bucky and Steve were staring at her with wide eyes, confused and touch hurt. How did she not know she was their girlfriend? It wasn’t like they just assumed they were dating. They had talked about this before. Bucky and Steve shared a look, the same question. Right?

“What did you just say?” Y/N asked quietly. Steve swallowed loudly.

“Um… That I was going to kiss my girlfriend?”

“Yeah, that. Wh- I’m not your girlfriend though.”

Now Steve was really confused. He frowned and tilted his head to the side.

“Yes? You are our girlfriend?” He said uncertainly, his voice wavering slightly. Y/N clambered off his lap to stand in front of them both with her pointer fingers up as she tried to grasp the conversation.

“Our?” Y/N squeaked, turning to Bucky with comically wide eyes. “I’m sorry what?! No, I’m not!”

“Yes! You are! You agreed to it!” Bucky countered back, equally getting worked up alongside Y/N. She blinked, completely stunned.

“What?! When the hell did I agree to that?” She cried. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember that!”

“How-how do you not remember? It was when we went to Uncle Julio’s forever ago.” Steve replied.

“The place you said the beans tasted like they were from a can and that Steve thought the salsa was too spicy,” Bucky added. Y/N vaguely remembered the restaurant. They had gone to a few since.

“Right.” Y/N said slowly. “They had really good margaritas though.”

“Right,” Bucky nodded. “And that was the same night when we asked you what you were looking for in relationships.”

Y/N paused. Now that she thought back, she did remember that question. At the time, she thought it was a little odd that they had asked that question, but she didn’t have an issue with it.

“I vaguely remember that. It was cause of something Maddie said about her husband, right?”

“It’s what led up to it, yes,” Steve nodded. “I suppose the two margaritas you had to even be able to stomach the food helped, but you told us everything you were looking for.”

“Someone smart, confident, faithful, funny, honest, someone you feel comfortable enough with to wear sweats and no makeup around,” Bucky listed off the traits she had said so long ago, counting with his fingers. Y/N’s face burned.

“Wow, I sure said a lot.” She mumbled, looking at the feet.

“Yup. You were pretty open. Now I’m understanding why.” Steve shrugged. It was slowly dawning on him that maybe, just maybe there was a loss in communication. He let out a heavy sigh, falling back into the cushions. “After probably the best monolog ever, Bucky asked you if you were willing to give us a shot.”

Now she remembered. She must have blocked absolutely mortifying that memory from her brain. She had only known them for a month at that moment in time, and she laid out her heart for them. It wasn’t hard with these two. They were so easy to be comfortable around, neither demanding she acted like someone she wasn’t or judging her on who she was. They accepted her with open arms. When she did finally stop her rant, she downed the rest of the margarita and turned to Bucky, who had been wearing the blissful grin on his face. At the time, she thought he was one of the most handsome men alive and was completely thrown by his next question. It was so out of the blue, it must have been why it never registered.

“I-I mean, yeah. You asked, but I thought-.” She thought he was joking. “I thought you were joking!”

“Right, but you laughed and said ‘Sure why not!’ We thought it was weird how you played it off, but not once did you say you assumed we were joking!” Steve stated. Y/N turned to him with a panicked look in her eye.

“B-but we’ve not been dating!” She tried to deny. It was feeble, her brain was racing through every memory she had of the past two months. And so far, the facts were stacked against her.

“Technically, we thought we were!” Bucky pointed between Steve and him. “Do you really think we eat out every other weekend?”

“Or willingly without complaint hold your bags while you shop?” Steve added. “Or take you out to lunch whenever we get the chance?”

“Yeah, but… You’re together!” Y/N reasoned. They shared a perplexed look and shrugged.

“Well yeah we are, but we figured you’d figure it out when you agreed to date us,” Steve said slowly. His mild amusement was slowly melting away when the severity of this conversation hit him. She had a clue they were a couple already, but she didn’t know she was apart of their relationship either.

“Guess we should have talked a little bit more about this after the margarita’s left your system,” Bucky muttered. He too was quickly concluding that this supposed relationship was only that to them. Y/N hadn’t the slightest clue that they were quickly falling for her and how absolutely happy she had been making them both the past two months. It was all one-sided, and clearly, they were to blame.

“That explains all the hugs and the kisses on the cheeks.” Y/N uttered, unaware of their sinking turmoil. Steve nodded numbly.

“We figured you weren’t into PDA at that much, so we kept it as minimal as possible until you gave us the clear.” He replied softly. Y/N finally looked up, her heart cracking in her chest at the sadness written across their faces. “We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with our PDA either, so we kept our hands to ourselves as best we could.”

“That’s why you acted like you were worried I see.” Y/N whispered. “You were worried it was going to make me upset?”

“Yeah, you never said you hated it, but you never initiated it yourself. We thought since this was such a new and different kind of relationship for you, you’d need time. Now it’s become clear, you didn’t even know we thought the three of us were in a relationship.” Bucky said with a dejected tone. On any other given day, Y/N would warp him up in her arms and tell him everything was going to be alright. However, right now, she was still reeling from the latest development.

“So, you're telling me, that for the past two months, you both assumed I knew we were dating? And neither of you thought to double check with me and make sure I was up to speed with you both?”

To both their credit, Steve and Bucky winced and at least looked embarrassed. They had been both so excited, thrilled that she agreed at the time, neither thought to question it and run her off with their doubts.

“Not that it’s an excuse, but in the past the few women we’ve asked if they’d be interested in giving us a chance, they stop talking to us altogether. You called us back the next day. It’s why we assumed we were dating.” Steve sighed, his eyes closing shut.

Y/N stood there in silence, letting his words sink in. Both men shifted uncomfortably, but neither said a word. They weren’t going to dig themselves into a deeper hole than they were already in. This wasn’t something small that Y/N could just look past and move on. They missed and theoretically kept key details of their relationship from her.

“I-I have no idea what to say.” Y/N rubbed her temples, her voice cracking. Steve deflated and Bucky had to turn his gaze away to hide his shining eyes. There was something incredibly upsetting about seeing a grown man seconds away from bursting into tears.

These really were some of the happiest two months of his life. True, he and Steve were happy with their relationship. They both knew where they stood and loved each other fiercely. Though they always felt like something was missing. He loved having Steve’s bigger and stronger body to wrap up around him at night to fight away the demons he crossed every day in his job, but there were days when he craved a softer and gentler touch of a woman for him to pamper and hold.

Steve felt the same, his heart aching for another that might cement them further. He loved Bucky with his whole heart, but when he met Y/N the day Bucky pulled her over, he knew she was the missing piece to the puzzle. And because he let his past experiences rule his fear, she was most likely going to slip from their fingers.

Y/N head started to throb, her stomach in knots. This was such an informational overload. It was all starting to come together, specifically why they acted the way they did around her. But this didn’t mean she was okay with how they handled things.

She could understand them being excited, happy that she ‘agreed’ to date them. But what about discussing their limits, or even what they would tell people? It wouldn’t exactly be a conventional relationship; Y/N didn’t even know if she was slightly on board with dating not just one, but both men. She needed time to think, to sort through everything that happened the past two months.

Rubbing her arm, Y/N began to chew her lips and looked back at Bucky and Steve.

“I… I think I need to take a break.” She muttered. She swore she could see their hearts shatter in their chest, the crestfallen expression causing her stomach to turn. “I’m not saying I’ll never call you again. But I need a break, to think about everything.”

Swallowing thickly, Bucky nodded slowly and bit back his tears.

“Right, of course.” He let out a shuddering breath. “We can understand that. Neither of us meant to keep anything from you. We honestly thought you knew.”

“I know. It’s okay.” Y/N smiled kindly, “You didn’t do it intentionally. I just… I need to figure things out.”

Both men nodded quickly, clenching their fists at their side. Y/N sighed heavily and grabbed her purse. Steve rose, smoothing the wrinkles in his uniform. Y/N’s heart fluttered at the sight of the fabric stretching across his chest and quickly averted her gaze.

“I’ll walk you to the door.”

Y/N winced at his defeated tone, cold realization settling in that he really was having a godawful day. She had to push aside the guilt she felt. Once she knew where she stood in this whole mess, she could possibly make up for kicking him while he was down. Following him to the door, she gave Bucky a tight-lipped smile over her shoulder. He watched sadly from his spot on the couch, digging his nails in his thigh.

Y/N paused at the door, Steve standing to the side to let her leave. His eye’s cast to the floor, his face void of any emotions.

“I’ll call you guys when I’ve had time to think.” She whispered. Steve nodded mutely, his eyes flicking up briefly to her face before returning to the floor. On instinct, Y/N’s hand lifted to squeeze his arm but froze before her hand touches his skin. Her breath hitch in her throat and she quickly pulled her arm back. “Bye Steve.”

He mumbled a goodbye, watching her disappear down the hall before shutting the door softly behind her.

~.~.~.~

“Wait, wait, wait. Back up.”

Y/N groaned, glaring at the half empty glass of wine in front of her. Maddie shot her a glare and situated Lexi on her other hip.

“Don’t groan. I need to make sure I got everything right.” She tutted. “So, the two hotties with the bodies are in fact dating each other.”

“Right.”

“And they are open to an open relationship?”

“I think so. At least… They’re open with me.” Y/N said, her brows furrowing. She hadn’t really thought to ask that question before she fled. “They haven’t really seemed to be with anyone else. Just me.”

“For the sake of the argument, let’s say they’re just wanting to add you to the mix. Nobody else.” Maddie waved off to continue. “For the past two months, they’ve thought you were in a relationship because you inadvertently agree to it.”

“Well.” Y/N skewed her face in disagreement, but Maddie bulldozed right over her.

“Like it or not, you didn’t turn them down. Regardless on who knew what, they thought so. And from what you’re telling me and what I personally saw, my god I’m one jealous bitch.”

“What?” Y/N squawked. Maddie sent her a flat, unimpressed expression and took a sip from her sparkling water.

“Oh please,” Maddie grunted and set the glass down. Lexi cooed and reached out to grab the glass. Unfazed, Maddie pushed it to the side and continued talking. “They treated you like a queen. Bucky and Steve were both at your beck and call, 24/7. They made sure to work out their schedules so they could take you out to lunch almost every week. They wanted to be around you all the time, I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve looked over to you and seen you with that dopey grin on your face because they’re texting you. Not to mention, the very first encounter with you was you immediately yelling at them both. Let’s not forget that.”

“How can I when all you do is bring it up every damn day.” Y/N grumbled, taking a sip from her glass.

“Point is; They care about you. A lot. And honestly, I’ve never seen you happier.” Maddie explained. “This is probably the most unconventional relationship ever, but you have to admit. Having two men that care about you, treat you uh-mazing, and just want to be with you is pretty great. But the bottom line is, what do you want?”

Y/N grew silent, staring absently at the empty wine glass in front of her. That was the heavy question, wasn’t it? What did she want? Letting out a loud painful groan, Y/N buried her face into her hands.

“I don’t know!” She whined. “Maddie tell me! What do I want?!”

“I can’t tell you that!” Maddie exclaimed. “That’s for you to decide. At the end of the day, you have two choices. The first is you tell them you can’t be in a relationship and hope for the best. Chances are, they couldn’t look at you any other way than they have in the past two months, it’ll be too hard on them both and they’ll have to stop talking to you. It wouldn’t be fair to you, or them. The second is you pull your head out of your ass and tell them you’re falling in love with them both and you want to make it work.”

“I’m not falling in love!” Y/N denied with a scoff. Maddie rolled her eyes.

“Keep lying to yourself, princess. You get all starry-eyed whenever one of them calls, I see how much happier and less stressed than you usually are with them. Don’t believe me yet? Then answer me this; Does your heart skip a beat when you see them?” Y/N was reluctant to answer, but she eventually nodded with a pout.

“Do you feel like somethings missing when you go home at night and they aren’t there?”

Another reluctant nod.

“Do you think about their needs before you think about yours?”

Y/N thought about the brownies that were probably sitting uneaten back at their shared apartment that she knew she didn’t have to bring, but Steve would have loved. Yes, she supposed she did. Maddie was beaming now, wagging her fingers in front of Lexi’s face as she waited for the realization to settle in her best friend.

“Hate to break it to you, but you’re in pretty deep.”

Growing silent, Y/N let Maddie’s words sink in. Everything she was saying made absolute sense, and there was no real doubt in Y/N’s mind that she felt something for the two men. Somewhere along the way, Y/N found herself falling for them both despite constantly fighting those feelings. She was never going to act on them, at the time she didn’t think they’d ever be comfortable with the idea of sharing her. There was no way Y/N could ever ask them to choose, or even choose between them herself. I guess I worried for nothing, Y/N thought sheepishly.

“Now answer me one last question. Can you see yourself going forward in life without both of them there, by your side, loving you the way you deserve to be loved? And knowing they’ll make you the happiest and luckiest woman ever?”

No, she thought instantly. She couldn’t. Maddie saw the certainty flash across Y/N’s face and laughed. She walked around the island and patted Y/N on the back.

“I think you have your answer then. Now get out of my house. It’s bedtime.”

Y/N barked a laugh, ducking her head to hide her giddy grin. Stepping off the stool, Y/N turned to Maddie and hugged her tightly, careful of the tiny human in her mother’s arm.

“Thank you, Maddie. I don’t know where I’d be without you.” She murmured and let Maddie go. Maddie snorted.

“You’d probably be the town crazy lady with twenty cats that yells at people to get off her lawn.” She stated. Y/N rolled her eyes and leaned down to gently squeeze Lexi’s leg. The little girls squealed a happy giggle, chewing on her tiny fist between her gums.

“You’re mommy’s a bitch, you know that?” Y/N cooed. Lexi beamed, completely unaware of what was going on, but happy to get all the attention. Maddie, however, scoffed and poked Y/N in the side harshly.

“Out. Quit stalling and go back to your men.”

“Alright. Alright.” Y/N groaned. She walked out of the kitchen and through the living room where Jason and Robert were cuddling on the couch, a bowl of popcorn between them. “Bye, you two.”

Robert barely paid her any mind, too engrossed by the cartoon on the tv. Jason smiled widely with a mouth full of popcorn and waved at Y/N over the back of the couch. She made a face of mock disgust and rolled her eyes.

“Always the charmer Jason.”

Shaking her head, Y/N let herself out the front door and walked back to her car, toying with her keys. There were a few ways she could go about this. She could go home and call them tomorrow or she could call them now. It had only been about an hour and a half; she knew they’d still be up for at least another few hours. Gripping the steering wheel, Y/N let out the tension she was keeping in and started the engine after finally coming to a decision.

Twenty minutes later Y/N walked up the stairs and stopped in front of the door. Y/N took in a deep breath and knocked sharply, shifting anxiously from foot to foot. She heard heavy footsteps coming up to the door moments later and the lock flicking loudly. The door slowly opened, and Y/N smiled hesitantly, playing with her purse strap.

“Hey.”  

“H-hey.” Bucky leaned against the door, his eyes wide in surprise. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat at him in a tight tank, loose grey sweat pants and bare feet. Blinking rapidly, Y/N shook her head and tore her gaze away from his chest and tried to ignore the adorable stray curl on his forehead.

“I um… I know it’s late, but I couldn’t wait. Can we talk?” she asked nervously. Bucky looked her over, his eyes were soft and unperturbed. He could tell she was nervous, waiting for him to reject her and send her away. The corners of his lips turned up and he pushed off the door, reaching forward to take her hand in his. Y/N let out a breath of relief and let him pull her into the apartment. Shutting the door softly behind her, keeping her close before he led her into the living room.

“Have a seat. I’ll get Steve.” He said gently and strode down the hall. Y/N sank into the cushions, trying to relax as she strained to hear Bucky letting Steve know she was there. A few minutes later, Bucky walked back to the living room with Steve trailing behind. Steve paused, a flash of uncertainty going across his face before he blinked. She bit her cheek and smiled meekly.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Steve nodded carefully, his guarded eyes flicking over to Bucky. “Didn’t expect you to call back anytime soon let alone show up.”

“Yeah well,” Y/N laughed breathlessly. “I had a great helper who made me see I was overreacting a bit, again.”

Bucky and Steve chuckled softly, knowing exactly who she was referring to. If this conversation went how he thought it might go, Steve made a mental note to send her a thank you basket. Y/N looked back to her hands, a frown on her face and her heart in her throat.

“So, I know you’ve thought we’ve been dating for the past two months. I didn’t really have a clue, but it still doesn’t take away from the fact that you thought we were.” Y/N started. “A little unconventional yeah, I’ll admit it, but now that I’ve had time to process the idea, it’s not something I’m opposed to.”

“We didn’t mean to-,” Bucky said. Y/N shook her head and gave him a reassuring smile.

“No. I know. I’m not upset about it, honestly, I don’t think I ever really was. Maybe a little blindsided but not upset.” Y/N snickered. “It’s a little unconventional yeah, I’ll admit it, but now that I’ve had time to process the idea, it’s not something I’m opposed to.” 

Bucky’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, surprised by her admission. Steve was equally astonished, glancing at Bucky from the corner of his eyes. He tried to ignore the flutter in his stomach, not ready to get his hopes up just yet. But it wasn’t every day someone admitted they were willing to try out their unusual relationship. Y/N went back to staring at her hands, picking at her cuticles with an unsure expression.

“I mean, it’s not ever something I envisioned in my life. I definitely didn’t think I’d ever fall for not one, but two men like you two, but I can’t seem to find it in myself to be upset about it either.”

“You’re falling for us?” Bucky asked breathlessly. He walked around the coffee table and carefully sank into the cushion on the couch. He crossed his leg and tucked his ankle under his thigh, his knee gently brushing against Y/N’s thigh. Y/N nodded, her cheeks burning.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re both sweet, thoughtful, freakishly considerate.” Y/N giggled. “Maybe a little oblivious and lacking in the communication department, but everybody has faults.”

“If all we have to work on is talking more with you, I think we can both agree we’re up for that improvement.” Bucky teased, winking over to Steve. The other sent him a tight-lipped smile, his fist clenched tensely at his side. Bucky frowned and tilted his head towards Y/N all while he kept his eye on Steve.

“I do have so many questions, and things are going to be a little weird for me to get used to, but I mean the only difference between then and now is that… Well, now I know we are in fact dating.” Y/N let out a heavy breath. Steve’s gaze snapped towards Y/N, his lips parting as a soft gasp slipped through. Bucky let out a breathy chuckle and threw his arm on the back on the couch, brushing his thumb against Y/N’s shoulder. She smiled softly at the soft caress and leaned into his touch.

“You still want to date us?” Steve asked breathlessly. It was almost like a dream, part of him couldn’t believe it. He was one hundred percent certain that he was still laying in bed beside Bucky, struggling to contain the tears from heartbreak before he fell asleep. This had to be a dream, right? Yet, when Y/N looked up and locked eyes with him, he could see the certainty and touch of worry. She nodded slowly and bit her lower lip.

“Of course, I do. I could never choose between either of you, not that I would ever want to either.” Y/N said firmly. “I can understand if you’ve lost a little of the trust since, you know, my freaked out early, but I really do want to make this work. Just thinking about-.”

Y/N didn’t have a chance to finish her rehearsed speech. In a flash, Steve was across the room taking up the empty seat beside her on the couch and pressing a desperate kiss to her mouth, effectively cutting her off. She squeaked against his mouth, startled at just how fast the giant man was, but melted instantly in his tender hold and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck.

Reluctantly pulling away, Steve pressed his forehead against hers with his eyelids tightly shut and couldn't stop the wide smile that spread across his lips. Y/N’s head swam, his hot breath fanning across her face. There was a gentle tug from the side, a soft hush stopping her whine before Bucky took his turn to kiss her. He was more controlled, surer. As if he knew at the end of the day Y/N would be back, that she felt things for them both. He brushed his tongue against her lower lip but pulled back with a wicked grin before she could return the kiss. Y/N inhaled sharply and pouted as her eyes flutter open.  

“So, we’re all in agreement?” Bucky whispered huskily. “From this point on, we talk about everything, don’t hide any secrets and we’re officially exclusive to each other?”

Y/N nodded numbly, still scrambling to get her wits about herself. Steve chuckled; his chest lighter than before. He cupped her cheek and turned her face back to his. Y/N blinked, melting at the intensity in his blue eyes.

“We should probably talk about what all this means.” Y/N muttered halfheartedly. She really did want to clear things up, but the longer she sat sandwiched between their two bodies, the quicker she felt her self-control slipping out the window.

“We can talk about logistics later. Right now, I just want to hold my now official girlfriend and longtime boyfriend.” He shushed, brushing his thumb along her lower lip. Bucky giggled, actually giggled and buried his face to her neck. He took in a deep breath, savoring her comforting smell and nodded.

“I think we all deserve that. Talk later, cuddle now.”

Y/N giggled and found herself being scooped up, back into Steve’s lap with Bucky pressed up beside her. She wrapped her arm around Steve’s neck and leaned back against Bucky. He kissed up her neck and rubbed soft circles to her arm. She sighed, letting her eyes slip shut in content. They were right, they had all the time in the world to talk later.

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[wildefiction]

Of Course...Mr. Collins

SEVENTEEN

Tucking your phone, room key, ID and credit card into a small shoulder clutch, you straightened your back, took a steadying breath and opened the door. You really weren’t a purse..person, (Purse person…what a funny thing?) but the alternative was sticking everything you needed in your bra, and something about that made you laugh. 

Pulling your phone from the tiny contraption, you sent Norman a text to ask where he wanted to meet. As you waited for the elevator to take you downstairs, you sent Misha a text as well, letting him know you were on your way if he needed you for anything. 

A few moments later, Norman texted you back saying he was running a bit behind, but that he’d be down shortly. Thankfully, this ride to the ground floor was without incident and soon you felt the warm evening air greeting you as you stepped out onto the Great Lawn.

As the convention attendees weren’t due to start arriving for another thirty minutes, the grounds were fairly quiet. Rob and the band were readying a sound-check on the makeshift stage the hotel had set-up along the oceanfront. Catching his eye, you waved before making your way over to him.

“Hey, hey good lookin’!” Pulling you into a tight hug, Rob stepped back from the embrace as Mike sauntered over to say hello. 

“Can you believe we’re here Robbie?” 

“Twenty years in the making eh?”

With a clap on the back, he moved to fuss over the amps. Turning towards the sea of empty tables in front of them, a sigh of contentment marked Rob’s happiness. 

“Have you seen Misha anywhere?” Scanning the vicinity for your boss, you weren’t terribly surprised when you didn’t see him. 

“He’s technically a surprise, so if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say check the pavillion.” Shrugging, Rob pointed to the row of canvas tents to the left of the stage. Apparently this convention was a big deal. You’d heard whispers through the fandom, speculating on whether Jensen would be performing tonight. Having never heard the man sing, you were looking forward to the possibility.

With another quick hug, you waved goodbye to Rob before jumping from the stage to land in the soft green grass bordering the set. People were beginning to trickle in now. Groups of two and three at a time turned into a steady stream as the sun started its descent behind the drum kits. 

Noticing Mark leaning against one of the large white tables with an iced tea in hand you wandered over to say hello. You’d never officially met him, and he’d been one of your favorite characters on Supernatural. Slowly you were catching up on all of the other shows in which he’d made an appearance. 

“Hey, Mark it’s good to meet you.” Pulling his gaze from the phone he held in one hand, the older man regarded you silently for a moment. Squinting as he hesitantly extended his, you hurried to introduce yourself.

“Ah yes, you must be the infamous Ms. [Y/L/N].” “That is a beautiful dress darling, I’m suddenly feeling self-conscious in my choices.”

With a smirk and a low chuckle he withdrew his hand. 

“Please tell me you’re playing tonight Mark. I’ve been dying to see you on drums in person.” 

Even though he had left the show the year prior, he still toured with the conventions and you’d seen videos of him participating in the concert on Saturday nights. 

“ ‘Fraid not love, I havn’ played since I lef’ Supernatural. In fact, this is also my last year on the circuit.” As your face fell, you did your best to hide your disappointment. 

“Don’t worry darling, I’ll still be around, just not with Creation after next month. Be sure and say hello if you see me elsewhere though.” 

Glancing down at his phone, he looked back up at you, squeezed your shoulder and excused himself before wandering away through the maze of tables.

Suddenly you heard the melodic sound of Misha’s laughter. Looking up, you scanned the crowd and noticed him across the lawn taking a picture with a fan who’d literally walked straight into him while staring into his phone. Smiling, you moved to join him. Despite the terrible way he’d handled himself, you couldn’t seem to stay upset when you were near him. 

Maybe you were moving on from the un-necessary petulance you’d felt, or maybe it was just Misha’s personality. Rather than his name however, a sharp intake of breath came from your mouth when you felt warm arms wrap around your waist from behind. 

“Heya Sunshine..”  Whispered words curled around your ear, chasing a shiver down your spine. Spinning you in his arms, your breath caught briefly as Norman stared down at you. 

“Ya look amazin’…jes beautiful.” Flushing at the unexpected compliment, your eyes darted to the ground. 

“You don’t look so bad yourself Mr. Reedus.” With a half smile you stepped back to admire the man standing before you. His dark auburn hair fell in messy waves over his blue eyes, as it always did. Although he still wore jeans he’d switched to a dark distressed pair, the legs haphazardly pulled down over tightly laced boots. In lieu of the Henley from earlier, a black band tee took its place. The soft cotton fabric stretching over his broad chest and thick arms caught your attention as he pulled you into his neck for a hug and tightened his grip. Inhaling deeply, you sighed as the smell of worn leather and fresh-turned dirt surrounded you.

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

“I promise, I’m fine. It was great to meet you too!” Pulling his hand from the man’s shoulder, Misha lowered the dark glasses from where they rested in his messy hair to cover his eyes as he threaded his way through the crowds in search of you.

He’d noticed you talking to Rob earlier and headed in that direction, his stride confident and filled with purpose. Scanning the crowd at the front of the stage he intently sought the black and blue dress you’d been wearing. When his gaze shifted and found you standing off to the side of the lawn he smiled, intent on telling you how gorgeous you looked. His steps faltered and the smile he’d been wearing moments before dimmed as Norman walked up and wrapped his arms around your waist. [Y/F/N] laughed at something he said, turning in his arms to brush hair from his face. Even though he had no valid reason to be upset, his stomach twisted into knots, a dull ache blossoming in his chest.

One thing was certain, Norman certainly seemed authentic in his efforts. Misha smiled sardonically as the other man pressed his lips to [Y/F/N]’s temple, tucking a white flower into her hair before settling an arm casually around her waist and pulling her into his side.

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

When the lights dimmed and Rob took his place center stage the crowd erupted into a cacophony of cheers and screaming. A permanent grin settled into place immediately. You thoroughly enjoyed seeing everyone support Louden Swain. Although you’d only discovered the band a few months prior, it hadn’t taken long for you to become a fan. Raising your arms over your head, you clapped and cheered as loud as the rest of the audience, hips and the gauzy fabric draping them beginning to sway to the Indie Rock.

Shifting from his place at your side, Norman moved to settle his arms across the front of your hips, pulling you in against his solid frame. When his lips pressed themselves into your hairline you stilled, the lilting sounds of the band drowned out by your suddenly racing heart. As simple of a gesture as it was, the lingering feeling ceased to fade, even after he had pulled back.

“You’re really taking being my date seriously eh?” Twisting your head to look up at the man behind you, a playful smirk ghosted over your face. 

“O’ course, why wouldn’t I?” Shrugging, you turned back to the stage where Rob had started singing one of your favorite Louden Swain songs; Pop-Tart Heart. 

“If’n ah didn’t enjoy spenin’ time witcha, ah wouldn’t. I don’t do pity dates [Y/F/N].”

“Well, as much as I’m enjoying myself, I should probably go check in with Misha. Work beckons ya know?” Squeezing his arms around you once more, Norman nodded before stepping back. 

“I’ll be here when ya get back. These guys are pretty good.”

Winding your way through the group of people who’d drifted their way to the front of the stage, you spotted Clif hanging back by the group of tents set aside for the guests. 

“Hey Clif!” Waving to the surly looking man, he nodded in your direction as you approached.

“Is Misha in there?” Craning your neck around his massive shoulders, he laughed at your attempts to see passed him. 

“Yeah, go on in [Y/F/N].” Holding the curtain aside for you, Clif stepped away from the small door. Immediately you were greeted by a wall of hired muscle, perma-frowns etched into their tanned features. Black suits, and tinted wrap-around sunglasses glared back at you as their arms crossed over their chests. 

“Hey, I don’t think we’ve met, I’m [Y/F/N].” The men didn’t even look at you, their gaze trained straight ahead. 

“Uh..alrighty then. Hey, Misha?!” 

“Yah?” Smiling as he poked his head through the men, his attention landed on you, expression turning to stone. 

“[Y/F/N], hey c’mon in.”

Turning from you he gripped the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head, carelessly discarding it on an empty chair across the room. 

“Thought I’d check in to see if I could help with anything. Haven’t heard from you today really.” 

The earlier sheepishness had returned, and you looked anywhere but at the man in front of you, his perfectly tanned skin framed by low-hanging denim.

The tension in the space between you was thick enough that when Jared sauntered over to say hello; tossing an almond up in the air before snapping it into his mouth, he nearly choked. 

“Woah, [Y/F/N], you look amazing! Doesn’t that dress…wow?!” Nudging Misha, (who was too busy pulling on his button up shirt to even bother making fun of the taller man for nearly choking on nuts) he threw an arm around his shoulders, intent on asking if he too thought you looked great. 

“Oh, uhm..yeah. S’nice.” At Jared’s questioning expression, you sighed, shaking your head by way of explanation. 

“Y'all okay?” 

“Yeah, I think so, we just gotta sort some things out.”

Turning your own now icy stare towards your boss, you looked pointedly at the man, while still addressing Jared. 

“Just got some…kinks..to work out.” “Still gettin’ used to each other is all.”

With a worried grimace, the taller man held his hands out in front of his body, as if to keep himself out of the conversation. 

“Alright, well I’m.. just gonna…I’ll see y'all later.” Leaning over to whisper through your hair, Jared placed a large hand on your back, “don’t be too hard on him eh? I know y'all just met, but he cares for you.” 

With that, he strolled off across the room, hailing Jensen as his brother was ushered in the back door.

Tentatively, you reached out to touch Misha’s back, which was still turned away from you, his head held in one hand, the other resting on his hip. 

“Mish?” “Can we talk?” With a heavy sigh, the man shook his head, running a hand over his face before raking his fingers through his hair. 

“Sure [Y/F/N], what do you want to talk about?” Turning to face you, his expression hard, you were taken aback by his attitude. 

“Really? Well, how about for starters why you mysteriously disappeared this morning after -” leaning closer so as to be out of ear shot of the others gathered in the room “-after what..happened.” “I’m assuming it directly relates to why you’ve ignored me all day? Also, what’s up with your sudden possessiveness over me?” “And third, whatever this -” waffling your hands between the two of you, you continued “-is, I need to know we’re on the same page. You’re fucking married Misha, and after you just up and left? I felt like a cheap…cheap…FLOOZY!”

Turning from your boss as you tried to hide the angry tears threatening to spill down your cheeks, you bowed your head, intent on keeping your shit together. 

“[Y/F/N]…I …I’m sorry. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this for awhile now.” 

Gripping your shoulder, he turned you to face him, eyes widening when he saw you fighting with your emotions. 

“Hey..hey don’t be upset, c’mere I-” the man tried pulling you against his body to comfort you but you didn’t want comforting, you wanted to punch him in the face. 

Fortunately you only thought the sentiment and didn’t act on it. One, he was your boss and despite everything you wanted to keep your job. Two, he was about to go put on a show for a couple thousand fans, and you’d feel kinda shitty if you wrecked his pretty nose. And three, Jared had requested you go easy on the man. So, you let him wrap his arms around you and crush you to his chest.

Sighing to yourself, you gently pulled back from his embrace. 

“Misha, talk to me. We have to talk about what my role is in this relationship. For having just met me, there’s no rational reason for you to apparently like me as more than an employee, so there’s clearly some sub-section of the contract I overlooked that details this. You’re married, and two weeks ago I was just another fangirl trying to get you to notice me. Now my life is completely different and I just don’t know what to do or how to act.” 

The anger began to dissipate while you listened to the rhythmic thudding of Misha’s chest.

Flopping into the same chair that held his abandoned t-shirt, Misha tugged on your wrist, so when you toppled off balance you only just caught yourself in time to instead take a seat on the adjacent chair.

Steepling his fingers as he hunched forward in his own seat, Misha considered his thoughts only briefly before starting. 

“Okay. So. I’ve got approximately -eight- minutes until they call me out on stage to introduce Jensen and Jared, so as much as I want to discuss this at length, I’m afraid it’s not possible right this second.  There are two options: one, we can touch on each of your concerns and revisit them later tonight, or two, you can go enjoy the rest of the show and we’ll put the entire conversation on hold. Again.” 

“I can say now, tomorrow is the craziest day, Sundays are always insane at conventions. There is a very real possibility that we won’t have another opportunity to discuss this until we’re on the way back to Washington.” 

Misha’s cobalt eyes searched your [Y/E/C] ones, trying to read your mood to see what you wanted to do.

Nodding in understanding you almost decided to put it off again. It was too important of a conversation to keep pushing aside but he was right, it was going to take time to address all of the questions you had. As much as you knew you’d dwell on his answers, it was also quite likely that knowing nothing would be worse. So you opted for the first choice. 

“Just..just give me something to think on. Will that work?” 

You’d completely forgotten about the concert happening just outside the thin canvas walls, not that you were sure how, the noise of the crowd was deafening as Rob finished the vocals to ‘She Waits.’

“Okay… so you want a quickie?” The smirk on Misha’s face to match his wink let you know he too, was less upset than he had been. Rolling your eyes, you acquiesced. 

“Yeah, yeah, on with it Sparky. Your public awaits.” As if on cue, Clif pulled back the canvas of the door, eyes searching the room. 

“Kim, Misha, you guys are on deck.”

Nodding, Misha walked with you towards his waiting bodyguard and friend. 

“One: “Personal Assistant covers a lot more than business transactions. Remember when I told you being my assistant meant I’d have to be able to trust you with parts of my life not many are privy to? Well I wasn’t only talking about my credit score and social security number. Two: Yes, I’ve been quiet today because I couldn’t figure out how to explain my poor decision via text and I was afraid you were angry with me, so I wanted to give you some space.”

Rob’s voice grew louder, Rich joining in with a ridiculous joke about someone taking the JCPenney coat sale waaayyy too seriously..and then they were announcing him. 

“Ladies and gents, your favorite angel…Mr. Misha Collins!!” The pitch of the crowd increased substantially as Misha turned to face you, one hand weaving through your hair. Locking his eyes on yours, he continued. 

“Three: Yes, I am married. Happily, I might add. But Vicki and I have already spoken about this, so it’s up to you to decide what you want from this relationship. Also. I was jealous. Yes, its unrealistic and completely illogical for our situation, but there ya have it.” 

With a quick smile, he pulled you to him, his lips briefly pressing against yours before he leaned back.  Ducking under Clif’s arm, he shouted to the crowd about virtues, and how being patient just never worked for him either as he grabbed the temporary railing and jumped over it onto the stage.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

TAGS: @jamielea81 @wings-of-a-raven

[honeyedhoseok]

The Black Book |09|

Genre | angst

Work Count | 4K

Summary | Being personal assistant involves doing a lot of different tasks for your boss Jung Hoseok–including setting up his rendezvous with his black book clientele. | CEO!Hoseok scenario

Hoseok got up before you the next morning, having already hopped in the shower by the time you awoke to his empty side of the bed. You stretched, letting your limbs fill the whole queen-size mattress before reaching for your phone. It was already 7:40 and the convention started at 9 a.m. so you scrambled out of bed, searching through your suitcase for a decent outfit.

Hoseok walked out of the bathroom moments later, a towel wrapped around his skinny waist and his hair dripping, leaving trails of water running down the toned muscles of his chest. You didn’t dare to give him the satisfaction of looking at him for too long, scooting past him with your clothes in your hand and shutting the door quickly behind you. You didn’t want him to see you get undressed, either.

Last night you’d both stayed on your sides of the bed, but this morning you’d woken up with Hoseok’s limbs wrapped tightly around yours, his head buried into the crook of your neck. It felt like he was scared of you getting too far away from him, and to spite him, you’d removed yourself from his clutches as soon as you realized.

After brewing over your schemes in your dreams, you woke up pissed all over again about the Hoseok and Jia situation. You knew there was nothing you could do about it now, but no matter how many times Hoseok apologized, you still couldn’t let it go. Your feelings, your brain, your heart—wouldn’t let it go.

There was something that was keeping it in your chest, letting it stew there until it poured over your lips like lava at Hoseok later as he accidentally caused his blow dryer to slip off the counter, nearly missing your pinky toe as it plummeted to the ground with a loud crack.

“Jesus!” you exclaimed, hopping out of the way at the last second and snarling at him. “Would you watch what you’re doing?”

“I didn’t mean to, Y/N,” he muttered, looking at you with a crinkled brow in confusion at your irate tone before he picked it up, setting it gently on the counter before exiting the bathroom.

You looked at yourself in the mirror—your lips pursed tightly together in anger, the furrow in your brow, the sharpness of your eyes as they stared back at you—this wasn’t you. So why was it so hard to turn this side of you off? Who were you becoming?

This attitude carried on as you and Hoseok headed into the elevator, standing on opposite sides like friends. Like you hadn’t kissed him silly in the morning more times than you could count, like he didn’t cuddle you at night in his sleep, like you hadn’t felt him inside of you before. It was all so stupid, and you both knew it.

“I thought that we were done with this, Y/N,” Hoseok sighed, drawing his eyes over to your tense frame in the corner.

“Done with what, Hoseok?” your lava voice from before turned to one of warm caramel, sweet and syrupy as it poured into his ears. “Done with you cheating on me? Done with you being a man-whore? No, I’ll probably never be done with that, to be honest.”

The words were harsh, snapping at your own ears like the crack of a whip. You couldn't stop them once you started—you had a serious case of word vomit this morning.

“Y/N,” he warned, his eyes flashing dangerously just as the elevator halted to a stop, the doors sliding open to let in a crowd of people dressed in business casual. They chatted with each other animatedly, ultimately stopping you and Hoseok from continuing your conversation.

You didn’t look at him as you exited, walking side by side with only the soundful clicks of your heels and his dress shoes to accompany you.

“Y/N, please,” Hoseok said. “I know this convention is technically for the business, but it was supposed to be our weekend, too. Why can’t we just enjoy it?”

You blinked, still looking forward. “I’d say you ruined those chances the moment you dialed Jia’s number, Hoseok. Maybe she should have come instead of me—” 

“Stop it.”

“You stop it!” you yelled childishly, whipping your head towards Hoseok so hard you hair clung to the berry lipstick adorning your mouth. “Don't try to make it seem like I'm overreacting. You crossed a line, and I'm tired of holding my tongue around you. I have done everything for you. And what do you do? Repay me by sleeping with one of your clients! Do you know how that makes me feel? To know that you prefer a cheap fuck to someone who actually cares about you? Well you can fuck right on off, Jung—”

You didn’t get to finish your insult before Hoseok had your wrist snatched up in his grip, pulling you with angered force into a small break room off to the side. He stared down at you with eyes as hard and black as onyx, gritting his teeth. 

“Don’t raise your voice at me like that, people might overhear,” he said. “I told you I was sorry. What else do you want me to do?”

“Hoseok, let go of me.”

“Promise that you’ll stop this first.”

“Hoseok, you're hurting me,” you whined, snatching your arm out of his grip once he loosened it. You rubbed at your sore wrist, looking at him with accusing eyes. “What, now you’re going to force me into listening to you just like you’re trying to force me into being okay with all of this?”

“Y/N,” Hoseok sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. “I would never hurt you on purpose. You're getting me too worked up over this and it’s irritating me. I didn’t even sleep with her! I’m already stressed about this compromise with Seok—”

At that moment, a man rounded the corner clad in a business suit similar to Hoseok’s, ultimately stopping the rant he was about to go on about your attitude. His face was mature but still somewhat rounded, making you unsure of what age he was. His eyes searched yours for a moment before landing on Hoseok and an ear-splitting grin lit up across his face, stretching his plump lips back over beautifully white teeth.

“Hoseok, just the man I was looking for!” he said, stretching a hand out to shake. “I was coming to grab my assistant’s tablet, he left it in here earlier.” He pointed to a black case that was sitting on the break room table before picking it up. “I should glue this thing to his hands, he’s always leaving it.”

“Mr. Kim,” Hoseok greeted him with a wide smile, his previous dark demeanor gone and replaced by his professional one. You wanted to roll your eyes, but the business man’s gaze was back on you as Hoseok gestured, placing a hand on your back. “This is my assistant, Y/N. Y/N, this is Mr. Kim.”

“Ah, the famous Y/N!” Mr. Kim said, reaching out to shake your hand as well. He had a firm handshake, an obvious sign of a man in charge. “I’m so glad to finally meet you. Hoseok thinks very highly of you, so I’m sure I will, too.” He grinned again, the apples of his cheeks balling from the force of it, “Also, please. Call me Seokjin.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Seokjin.” You smiled tightly, nodding your head in agreement. You’d met once or twice before, but you swore each time you saw Mr. Kim he got more youthful, more handsome. It was a pity he was married, but you didn’t think you could handle any more CEOs anyways.

You stepped away from Hoseok immediately as Mr. Kim turned around, letting his hand fall back to his side as the three of you headed towards the ballroom where the convention was being held. He shot you a warning look that you ignored. You might have been angry, but you wouldn’t mess this up for him. You knew business came first and you and Hoseok’s personal issues came after—but that didn’t mean that you’d forget, of course.

“There’s some people I’d like you to meet, Hoseok. Would you come with me?” Seokjin asked. Hoseok glanced at you as if asking permission, but your gaze was elsewhere, taking in the sights of the ballroom that you’d just stepped into.

Men and women in business suits, holding briefcases or binders, tablets and clipboards alike were walking around trying to find their names on the cards that adorned the round tables in numerous amounts that were scattered in the room. There were large projector screens hanging from the ceiling, a video of a people introducing what was in store for this year’s convention playing on loop.

“Y/N?” Hoseok said, chuckling as he snapped you out of your daze. “Did you hear what Seokjin just said to you?”

You shook your head. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I asked if you’d like to deliver this to my assistant. He should be around here somewhere,” Seokjin turned around in place until his eyes landed on a table that wasn’t far from where you three were standing, empty except for one person sitting and playing idly on their phone. “Ah, there he is--Jimin!”

“Jimin…” you tested the word on your tongue, a weird feeling washing over you at having always heard the name over the phone or having read it in an email, but never actually meeting the person who the name matched. You watched as Jimin made his way over you, tucking his phone into his jacket pocket before he stuck his hand out to Hoseok.

“It’s nice to meet you again, sir,” he said, shaking Hoseok’s hand before his chocolate brown irises settled on yours. “You must be Y/N. It’s nice to meet you as well.”

A tingle skittered up your arm as Jimin enveloped your hand in his own, a smile playing around the edges of his lips when he noticed your little jump at the contact. Seokjin ushered Hoseok off then, and you followed Jimin back to the table.

“I think this is yours,” you said, placing the tablet in front of him. “Might come in handy once this thing starts.” You took a moment to look around once more, taking in the vastness of the room. It was much bigger and more crowded than you’d expected.

“Thanks.” Jimin’s eyes followed yours around before settling on your face. “I’ve always wondered...what’s it like working for Mr. Jung?”

You almost giggled at his use of formalities with Hoseok. “It’s quite...stressful,” you laughed. You had other words playing on the tip of your tongue, but decided that was the nicest one you could muster. No need to let Jimin know that you were dying to hurt Hoseok’s ego right after you met, right? “But he’s really a great boss,” you said. “He’s intimidating at first, but I think that’s all part of the job.”

Jimin grinned. “I suppose. Seokjin isn't that bad, either. But he seems friendlier than Mr. Jung to be honest.”

“I can see that,” you nodded, eyes landing on Hoseok across the room.

He was standing with his back to you and Jimin, enveloped in conversation with a group of people that were all dressed similarly to him and Seokjin. You controlled the irritated curl of your lip as you watched him, noticing Jimin taking in your side profile as you looked. When your gaze landed on his once more, he quickly looked away, fiddling with the tablet in front of him.

“Have you been to one of these before?” you asked.

“We came last year. Honestly, I don’t get the point of these things. For us, anyways,” he added, grinning. “We just get coffee, take notes and mingle while they do all the real work.”

You nodded in agreement. “Maybe we should change that. What’s there to do around here while we wait?”

Jimin thought for a moment before his eyes lit up. “There’s a bar upstairs?”

You grabbed your clutch and your tablet, standing up from your chair. You threw Jimin a flirty smile that he returned before adding, “Lead the way, assistant Park!”

You and Jimin sat upstairs sipping on margaritas for a while, chatting about the things you both liked to do that existed outside of the corporate world. Jimin was an avid reader of the classics—his favorite was The Catcher in the Rye—and he spent a good deal of time updating his Goodreads account when he was away from work. You didn’t take him for the librarian-type, but the more you listened to the immaculate way he talked, the more the profile fit him. 

“Do you have a favorite book?” he asked, rubbing his finger along the rim of his glass to pick up any leftover traces of salt. “You look like a Jane Austen kind of girl. Am I right?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, a smile tilting at the corners of your mouth. “Are you saying I’m a floozy woman who needs marriage to ground herself in society?”

Jimin laughed, flinging his head back a little. “No, no. Absolutely not. Austen believed in the opposite, which is why I said so.”

“Ah,” you said, nodding, “So I’m an independent woman who doesn’t need a man?”

“Precisely,” he hummed in appreciation. His eyes raked over your face in unabashed way, and you crossed your legs under the table. “So?” he said, prompting you again.

You sighed. “Hoseok leaves me with very little time to do anything other than work, if I’m being honest,” you said. “I couldn’t tell you the last time I didn’t something after I got off that didn’t link to him—I even dream about filing papers!”

Jimin grinned at your humor, and he raised the last sip in his margarita glass to you. “To working way too hard for our bosses.”

“You got that right,” you said, and clinked yours with him before taking a big gulp.

“What about after work?” Jimin tried again. “You don’t do anything for yourself?”

You thought for a moment. Your last couple of weeks had been so filled with Hoseok that you couldn’t bring up a single instance where you’d done something without him—not that spending all your time with Hoseok was horrible, because it wasn’t. But you’d started revolving your life around him, and that was where you should have drawn the line a long tie ago.

“Wow,” you said, finally, “I’m really boring, aren’t I?”

Jimin chuckled. “I don’t think so. You are just a career-driven woman,” he said. “That’s attractive.”

“Well, thanks,” you said, giving him a small smile.

His eyes raked over your face pleasantly as he murmured a small you’re welcome.

“How about another round?” you suggested. Jimin nodded, so you called the bartender with a lift of two fingers and pointed to the empty glasses in front of you. “Just wondering. How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-four,” Jimin said in a proud tone, straightening his posture in his chair. “Why?”

“You don’t look it,” you said with a shrug. “I was honestly wondering how you were able to order drinks—I’d hate for you to caught with a fake I.D. at a business conference.”

Jimin laughed again, and the sound made you feel light.

“I’ve been known to do a lot to impress a beautiful woman,” he said, “but I wouldn’t lie about my age.”

Your eyebrows raised at his obvious flirt. “Oh yeah? I’m interested—what else have you done?”

“I pretended to be interested in classical music,” he said, shrugging. “She played the cello. Under the table, I was googling famous sonatas while she talked.”

“No way!” you said, smacking him lightly on the arm. “Did she take the bait?”

“That’s between me and her.” Jimin winked, taking another swig of his margarita. 

You grinned. “Tell me another.”

Jimin ran a hand through his hair, leaving the pieces messily splayed on his forehead in its wake. His lips glistened with the remains of his margarita—an invitation to keep your eyes on them that was becoming all too hard to ignore.

Jimin suddenly leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “One time, I spent an entire night talking about mundane topics when really, all I wanted to do was invite her up to my room and ravage her body.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. He didn’t stop though, and his hand ghosted to your knee, where his fingers toyed with the edge of your skirt.

“Starting with this—how do your legs look so good in this boring skirt?” he asked, his chocolate eyes glued to yours as he talked. “I’m sure they’d look even better somewhere else . . . “

You grinned at his audacity. He was brave, and you admired that. More importantly, this was your chance. If Jimin was into you, this was the key to your revenge.

“What were you thinking, assistant Park?” you asked innocently, cocking your head to the side. “Hm?”

A sultry smiled spread across Jimin’s face. “I can show you better than I can tell you, assistant, Y/L/N.” His free hand came up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. It lingered there as he talked, his thumb tracing the subtle curve of your cheekbone. “After this meeting is over, we should go somewhere more private—”

Your phone rang in your pocket, cutting Jimin’s words off. You gave him an apologetic look as you fished it out.

“Go ahead.” He gestured to it. “I’ve got all night, don’t worry.” Another wink.

You answered the phone without looking at the caller I.D. “Hello?”

“Tell Mr. Kim’s assistant he has about five seconds to get his hands off of you before I come over there and take them off myself,” Hoseok barked into the phone.

You jumped at the volume of his voice, flinching away from Jimin’s touch and scanning the area around you for any sign of Hoseok.

“Where are you?” you demanded.

“Coming to get you because the fucking presentation is starting,” Hoseok growled. “Move his hand off your knee. Now.”

You hopped down from the bar stool you were perched on, allowing Jimin’s hand to slide off easily.

He looked at you with concern, his mouth dipping down into a frown. “What’s wrong? Everything okay?”

The line went dead in your ear—Hoseok had hung up.

“We have to head back,” you said, still looking around for any signs of your irate CEO. “The presentation is starting.”

Jimin downed the last of his margarita and slid the glass back on the counter. “Okay,” he said, still trying to decipher the panicked look on your face. “Look, about what I said, I’m sorry if it was too much—”

“Why don’t you go ahead without me?” you said, giving him a tight smile. You didn’t want to talk about this anymore for the sake of Hoseok somehow overhearing you. “I’ll be in the conference room in a few minutes, okay?”

Jimin nodded. It looked as if he wanted to say something else but instead, he clamped his lips shut, giving you one final glance as he turned around and walked back towards the stairs you’d come up earlier.

You breathed a sigh of relief. Your heart was still beating fast—Hoseok was rarely ever upset with you, but when he was it was part exciting, part frightening. It gave you a small tingle down your spine to hear him so jealous on the phone previously.

You finished your drink and straightened your skirt, heading towards the stairs as well when a hand latched itself onto your wrist, pulling you in the opposite direction. The grip was strong, and your first instinct was the snatch your wrist back—until you saw the silver band on your captor’s pinky and calmed down.

“Hoseok, what are you doing?” you asked. “The conference room is downstairs.”

“We need to talk,” he said simply, his voice gruff. He was obviously in no mood to argue with you the way he was pulling you along, but you’d never been one to give into Hoseok’s mood warnings.

“Let go of me,” you said. “I can walk by myself.”

“Oh, can you?” Hoseok said venomously. “When I leave you alone to walk by yourself you walk straight into that Park kid’s arms. How can I trust you?”

“How can you trust me?” you screeched. “How can I trust you?”

You finally snatched away, and Hoseok reeled around to grab you by the shoulders and back you up against a random door in the hallway. There was no one around to see the interaction—just what Hoseok wanted.

“Y/N I’m going to tell you this once,” Hoseok said. “Whatever game you’re trying to play with me, don’t. Fighting fire with fire isn’t going to work in this situation.”

Tears welled up behind your eyes as you looked into the hardened face of the man in front of you. “Then what will, Hoseok?” you asked quietly. “What will make you understand how much you’ve hurt me?”

At seeing you near tears, Hoseok’s expression changed; his eyebrows softened and so did the corner of his mouth, drooping down into a haggard, worn-out slant. “I do understand,” he said. “I understand completely. But I can’t take it back—I would give anything to, but I can’t.”

He loosened his hold on your shoulders, sliding his hands down your sides to wrap around your waist and pull you closer. “All I can do is promise that it will never happen again and try every day to work towards what we had before.”

A tear leaked down your face as he talked, and you turned your head to the side to get away from his captivating gaze. “I don’t trust you anymore, Hoseok.”

“I know,” Hoseok said, a sigh escaping his lips. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, rubbing his nose against the space under your ear softly. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Please believe me.”

You shook your head, trying to hold onto the last bit of argument you had left in your body. Hearing Hoseok’s soft words of apology in your ear was too much—it was too easy to give in when you could see his sincere eyes and feel the warmth of his hands and body on yours.

“As long as the black book is a part of your life, I don’t know if we can be together,” you said.

“The black book?” Hoseok said. “The black book,” he repeated, pulling back to look at your face. “That’s it, Y/N.”

“What?” you asked, trying to understand the faraway look in Hoseok’s eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“That’s the key to this deal—“ He narrowed his eyes in thought. “Why didn’t I think of that before? God, you’re a genius.”

“Hoseok.” You grabbed his face, turning his manic expression back towards you. “Explain. What are you thinking?”

“About how much I love you,” he said, leaning in to give you a hard kiss on the lips. “I’m going to fix this, and I’m going to get Kim to sign this fucking partnership. Everything is going to work out!”

You pulled your hands away from him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “ I don’t understand—”

“Y/N, I need you to get the black book from our room and meet me downstairs,” Hoseok said. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah, but Hoseok—”

He cut you off with another breath-stealing kiss, pressing his body against your own until your back was flat with the door. His mouth moved hungrily against yours and you finally gave in, threading your fingers through Hoseok’s hair and tugging, feeling his smile against your lips as you did so.

“Trust me and go do what I asked,” Hoseok said, barely pulling back so that his lips brushed against yours as he spoke. “Please,” he added, with another smoldering kiss. He stepped back with a big smile on his face. “I’m going to fix this, and then we won’t have to worry about it ever again.”

“Okay,” you said, but he was already walking away and towards the stairs.

“I’ll see you in the conference room in twenty!”

A/N: After almost a year, here is my update. There’s one more chapter after this. Enjoy! Let me know what you think :)

[fanfic-scribbles]

On the Run: Chapter Five

Chapter Five: “Trial by Fire” or “Yes It Goes On and On My Friends”

Masterlist Here

Overall Story Facts:

Fandom: MCU Avengers; MCU Captain America

Adventure/Romance – James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes/Reader – Female Reader

Warnings: Violence, language, eventual romance, reader character with sassy/abrasive personality

Chapter Summary: A close encounter gives you a different insight into Bucky’s mindset. Also, maybe the Avengers are what they’re cracked up to be. Except for Captain America. He’s still the biggest little shit you know.

Special Chapter Warnings: Violence (not graphically described), emotional turmoil.

Words: 5169 (weeps)

A/N: I am so sorry for the length of this chapter. Every time I tried to edit it, it…just kept going longer. And longer. I have to take my hands off it or it will never end. I mean, it was definitely fun to write, but damn… Other than that, not much for notes this week. Please enjoy. Oh! Wait, I lied, I have a note: I have made a loose timeline and am going to start noting when the flashback chapters take place (or thereabouts). The Reader flashback (chapter two) is about two years before the beginning of this story, and the Steve Rogers one (chapter four) takes place about a year before the beginning of this story. What happened in between then? That will come out in future chapters. For now, just enjoy the ride.

 Chapter : “Trial by Fire” or “Yes It Goes On and On My Friends”

  You. Are. Bored. And tired. And maybe a little bit cranky.

“Aren't there Geneva Conventions against this?”

You can see Steve roll his eyes in the rearview mirror. Thankfully, Captain Caffeine-Denier is driving so you aren’t stuck next to him. As fun as it might be to test the limits of Captain America’s patience, it’s much better to do it where he can’t wrap his hands around your throat.

“It’s almost nine,” Steve says, taking the time to glance back at you again. “When will you stop needing coffee?”

“When I get some.” Duh. “Eyes on the road, Captain Car Accident. If I end up in “Red Asphalt” number 500 I’m gonna haunt your star-spangled ass for eternity.”

“It might be worth it for the wails of agony whenever I walk into a Starbucks,” he mutters.

You snort. “You go to Starbucks? You’re killing me; your fake glasses say ‘Brooklyn hipster douche’ but in reality you’re more of a faux-hipster douche.”

“Okay, hipster and not-hipster,” he says like he gets it (fat chance). “But why does ‘douche’ carry across both? You can get more creative than that.”

“Yeah but your honest personality carries through no matter what you wear.”

“Maybe you’ll feel better if you eat something,” Sam interjects and digs in a duffle bag. You don’t care if he makes a stupid fucking ‘eat a Snickers’ joke because your stomach grumbles at the mere mention of something edible. But what Sam holds out to you is…is…

Your stomach goes silent and you can only stare at the granola bar in his hand.

“You okay back there?” Steve asks. “You stopped complaining.”

You blink. “Okay…” you say and press your back up against the window, pushing back as far away from that thing as you can get. “Okay, I give; what do you want to know? Just–just take it away, please; I’ll cooperate.”

Sam laughs but, mercifully, puts it back. “It’s a granola bar, not a taser.”

“You’re trying to turn my insides into shrapnel. Nuh uh; I’m not falling for that shit.”

“You mentioned cooperating,” Steve says, sounding more like the wretched morning person you just know he is. “How did you meet Bucky?”

Hah. What a loser. “Who names their kid Bucky? Like, do parents never consider all the terrible nicknames that people can make from that?”

Steve rolls his eyes again and goes back to scowling at the road. That’s definitely not a bad thing; you rest your head against the window and watch the pavement pass by.

“Buchanan.”

You have to think on what that little non sequitur is about. Steve is stealing glances at you again. “His middle name is Buchanan. James Buchanan Barnes. That’s where ‘Bucky’ comes from.”

“Okay.” You know bait when you smell it so you leave it floating for a much dumber fish. “By the way, where are we going?”

“A safehouse Barnes has used in the past,” Natasha says.

“Ah.” That means exactly nothing to you. “And you’re hoping to…find him there?”

“Or a lead on his direction,” she says and that is that for the next ten hours.

Okay, so not literally. It might even still technically be morning when Steve pulls down a street in an under-construction industrial district. The car goes slow, as if this is a neighborhood with a really bored cop just sitting over yonder. But Steve is silent (thank heavens), Natasha is sitting up straighter and even Sam, chill as he is, is at attention. You…sit there and look pretty. Because unless they need someone squinting at building numbers, there’s nothing else to do and you don’t want to distract them.

Mostly you don’t want to distract them, but once you’ve parked you’re bored again as they rifle through the back and load up on weapons. Well, Natasha at least grabs some weapons: a couple of guns, a knife or three, and some little silver things you don’t get a good look at. Steve grabs his shield but doesn’t change out of his ‘normal’ clothes. Sam grabs…a backpack. It’s a nice backpack, you have to admit; hard, futuristic–

“Ooo,” you say when you realize what it really is and you swing behind him to look at it. “Is this where your wings are?”

“You know about my wings?” he says, sounding amused.

“I’ve read a newspaper within the past five years. I know some stuff.” You walk next to him because, despite flying possibilities, right now it’s just a backpack and you doubt that’s going to change anytime soon. Natasha and Steve are walking ahead and aside from him glancing back on occasion, they don’t pay you much attention. That’s…fine. Doesn’t help the atmosphere, though. Benign as the unfinished office building looks– tall, wide, with brick overlay and sheets of plastic blowing lazily in the breeze. The surrounding area is so quiet that it’s creepy. Also, weird. The inside is unpainted, not carpeted, and from what you can tell the entire building has frames but no windows. And yet Natasha goes to the elevator, punches in a code on a little pinpad, and it works. The doors open.

“Uh…” you say and hang back.

“It’s all right. It’s safe,” Sam says and gestures for you to go in.

Yeah, because being in a small space with grumpy Captain America, stoic Black Widow, and srs bsns Falcon is a safe, grand old time. You suck it up before one of them can decide to do it for you. The doors shut, the elevator moves, and it is…slow. Natasha actually sighs as you make your way up to whatever ridiculous floor you’re going to. You forget all sense of self-preservation and start humming. Muzak, eat your heart out.

“‘The Song That Never Ends’? Really?” Sam says but, again, more amused than annoyed. You flash him a smile but continue to hum as you stare at the back of Big Blond Eagle’s head. Less than a minute goes by when Steve suddenly slams his hand on the button to stop the elevator.

You are not ashamed of the fact that you find yourself clinging to the one and only Sam “Falcon” Wilson like he is your own personal lifeline. To be fair, his wings probably can’t do much in an elevator shaft, let alone the elevator itself, but you’ll tackle Natasha to the ground before you willingly wrap your arms around Steve.

“What was that noise?” Natasha asks you, smiling, while Sam tries (poorly, the bastard) to hide his laughter.

Not. Ashamed. And you’re not even going to acknowledge her question. “Can we please get out of the suspended steel deathtrap?!”

“In a moment,” Steve says, preparing his shield. It’s enough to make Sam stop laughing (mostly) and wipes any sense of amusement off Natasha’s face. Sam shuffles you behind him into a corner and there’s a tense second, after Steve forces the doors open, where he pokes his head out and you hope he doesn’t get shot in his stupid face because he might have denied you coffee but you don’t hate him that much. (Yet.)

Thankfully he pulls his head back in, sans lead, and lightens the straight line of his shoulders. “Clear,” he says and you all leave the tiny metal box. You walk down the hall and when you come up at another intersecting hallway they all treat the corner with just as much care and concern.

You don’t have the mental energy to panic at all of these so you just watch Steve bear his shield and Natasha hold her gun at the ready. Once the coast is declared clear and all three are more relaxed as they glance at the rooms you slowly pass, you ask, “Hey, Captain Coffee-Block, why don’t you have a gun?”

He glances back at you, like he’s surprised you’re talking, and then he looks forward with a grimace that implies he’s remembered who he’s dealing with. “I don’t need one.”

You beg to differ. “You take a vow of non-violence or something?” Wait; he had dropped as many bodies in your living room as Natasha had. “Or a…vow of non-lethal…violence?”

Steve flashes you a smirk. “How articulate.”

Brat. “Hey, you’re the one that vetoed a morning essential.” You wave your arms. “I won't speak for anyone else here but some of us mere mortals require a little boost when we have to get up at ass-crack o’clock.”

Steve mutters something you can’t hear but it makes Natasha smile (before she quickly goes back to being too cool for school) so it probably isn’t very flattering. You mock an exaggerated gasp. “Captain America, are you making fun of me?”

Steve looks at you again, his face almost a straight line. “Do you get more or less annoying with coffee?”

Sam laughs and Natasha rolls her eyes, but she looks at you like she expects an answer. “Definitely less,” you say. You all stop by a door. It looks like any other door you’ve passed so far but Natasha breaks the doorknob and she and Sam case it with their heads on swivel sticks before entering and doing a more thorough search. It’s a…big room. Empty. Boring. Despite that, Steve, Sam, and Natasha look in every corner (all four of ‘em) while you hang back and watch from the hallway. Whatever they’re seeking they don’t find, and soon you’re all back to slinking down the hallway.

“How do I know you’re just not saying that to get coffee?” Steve asks, looking right at you even though he’s still walking. You hope he trips.

“Wha– oh.” You snort. “Buddy, think of it in practical terms. Coffee means I’m drinking, not talking.”

“Ah,” he says as you all stop at another room. “I’ll make it a priority then.”

You clasp your hands. “A man after my heart.”

He’s standing on the other side of the door across from you while Sam and Natasha check out the inside. His big blue eyes go wide and hopeful. It is grossly adorable. “Oh? You mean you have one?”

You clutch your chest. “Oh! The cruelty! Someone fetch the smelling salts!”

He rolls his eyes, losing all pretense of innocence. “I was born in 1918 not 1818.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Natasha, are they flirting or do they actually hate each other?” Sam asks as they rejoin you. “I can’t tell sometimes.”

Laughter bubbles up from somewhere inside you that’s safe from your cold dead heart. Flirting. With Legal Blond Eagle. You cross your arms over your aching stomach and grip your sides. You actually fall on your ass as hilarity knocks you off balance.

“Not flirting,” Natasha says.

“Are you kidding me,” you wheeze as Sam helps you up. You wipe away tears. “Oh my g–”

Contrary to what the good captain might think, you are not dumb, nor are you actively suicidal. So when Steve puts his hand up and Sam goes silent, you also shut up and stop. You stay next to Sam as he pulls out his gun. Steve moves closer to the window frame, shield in hand, and leans against the wall on one side while Natasha makes herself as flush as a painting on the other side. There’s no glass, it’s all open; open to the bright, late morning sunshine and a warm breeze that flows past you. The wind makes you flinch; makes you realize how exposed you are.

You try to take a step back but Sam’s hand presses firm on your lower back so you stop. You look from Sam to Natasha to Steve and decide that maybe a shield is a perfectly fine thing to have after all.

There’s a faint but still all too close explosion outside that makes you want to both jump out of your skin and hit the deck, so you freeze. Steve looks down and spits out a curse that is, unfortunately, drowned out by Natasha’s string of them just before she kicks him back out of the open frame. Gunfire sounds in distant pops that become louder as the bullets start hitting the side of the building and the wall behind you.

Sam shoves you flat and you curl up as he rises just slightly to start firing back. Action movies are so much better when you’re flipping past them with a remote, you think. A flash of movement down the hall makes you un-hedgehog and you can see two black-suited people with nasty-looking guns taking aim in your direction.

You don’t think, you just grab the fabric of Sam’s sleeve and yank him down. He swears at his own misfire but before he starts to yell at you, you just point down the hall and he goes on guard immediately. Sam gets the guy who’s starting to aim at you first, and then the other one that’s already firing at him. While they fall, though, three more come from the corner behind them and pick up the slack.

Two firefights two days in a row. This shit is tired.

Your ears are ringing from gunfire and Steve’s shouts aren’t quite loud enough to pierce the haze, though you do try to make out what he’s saying. You hear him shout “GO!” just as something explodes and the hall fills with gas. This is very familiar. Greatest hits or a shitty lack of creativity, it’s the same stuff as before and you scramble on all fours, trying to get away from the wisps already burning your eyes and making you wheeze. A hand grabs the back of your shirt and helps you with that.

‘Helps’ you by throwing you into a stairwell so hard your head smashes into the railing and you lie there, dazed, as the door slams shut, muffling the sounds of the fight. Unless your resident elder statesman is taking more offense to you than he’s letting on–

“That her?”

“Yeah.”

Aw, now this is some bullshit. You play possum, shutting your eyes and deepening your breathing just in case they come to check. Cold concrete isn’t the nicest thing to rest on, but it does provide good contrast to the hot, pulsing pain near your temple and accompanying trail of blood.

“Reload. We won't have any other time to do it,” Assface says.

“Has there been any sign of him?” Douchewad asks.

“No,” Assface grunts and something clicks loudly. “All right. Move.”

One of them grabs you and drapes you over his shoulder. It’s uncomfortable– there are a lot of stupid pokey bits digging into your soft and tender stomach. Briefly you debate the merits of you, an unarmed person without a deathwish, taking on both Grunt #1 and Grunt #2, both armed. The deliberation ends with a resounding ‘fuck that,’ so you keep playing dead. They carry you down a few levels, go back inside the building proper and walk in the opposite direction of the fighting upstairs. They then enter into another echoing stairwell, where they meet up with a group of their equally violent friends.

Yeah, ‘waking up’ seems like a real bad time. Thankfully you are laid upon the ground and ignored while they talk plans and placement. The group disperses with their orders and you are left once more with Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum.

“This is ridiculous,” Douchewad says.

“What do you propose?” Assface asks.

“Shoot her and drag her out. They won't fight so hard over her corpse.”

Words and thoughts cannot express just how not in favor of this plan you are.

“Idiot; she has to be alive. Orders are orders.”

Yes; overruled, Douchewad. ‘Orders’ though. That’s…concerning. But you put it on the backburner for now. You have enough to worry about.

“Dragging her out of here alive is going to be impossible. Black Widow will cut her losses if it gets to be too much.”

“She won't. Her ‘Captain’ won’t let her and she’s his faithful little dog.”

Oh, you are so going to tell Natasha about this. Then she is going to beat the shit out of them and you are going to watch and feel bad not one whit.

“Just because he used her for a safe house doesn’t mean he’ll come back for her.”

…What?

“Oh, he’ll come.” Assface laughs. “We were in loose contact with the cell in Ohio–”

‘The cell in Ohio’ do these people ever listen to themselves or are you really living out a piece of shitty Tom Clancy fanfiction?

“–and they found out he’d been hiding in that dump–”

Hey, asshole, that ‘dump’ was home.

“–and he burned them down. Razed everything. Almost did the same to the base in Tennessee. Normally he leaves something for the Fed pigs to find.”

“And they’re sure it was because of her?”

“Mm hm. Before he went and joined his ‘Superhero Pal Squad’–”

Buddy. Leave the demeaning and derogatory nicknames to the professionals. That was pathetic.

“–we had no record of him, aside from the places he was taking out. Everybody assumed he just kept moving too long. But no, he just erased his tracks too good so he could go back and play house. We have better records of him when he’s on the road with Widow and Hawkeye, for fuck’s sake. Once we did track her down we kept a loose eye on her; figured she was just a crash site. The tape, though? They finally got something out of it just a few days ago. One of the agents was asking about her and the Soldier made threats about if anything happens to her.”

That…that’s…

Something.

It’s a lot easier to lie still after that. After Bucky had left you had hoped for a phone call, a letter, a note, a fucking pamphlet or napkin scribble, just something from him, to you, to let you know he was okay, that he hadn’t…forgotten you. All this time you’ve thought he’s taken your advice to ‘forget about it’ with gusto. But it turns out that ignoring you like a regrettable Spring Break hookup is just his (demented) way of protecting you.

Once you’ve railed him out for his terrible taste in best friends, you’re going to have some choice words about that.

Shots fire but it’s a testament to just how much that fucking raccoon upends your world that you barely notice at first. Asswad and Doucheface or whatever shoot back and you curl up to protect your ears and make a smaller target, but the two numbnuts drop and you flinch as footsteps approach.

Natasha sighs. “Are you going to lie there all day?”

You unfold and use the railing to get up. You’re a little unsteady at first– your legs don’t want to work and your head sways a bit, but when Natasha sizes you up your nerves are what almost bring you down. “Are you all right?” she asks, looking at your head.

You touch it and– fuck, ow, you forgot about that, but the dull headache is back to remind you and that dried blood is going to be hell to get out of your hair. “Yeah, fucking aces,” you grumble.

She gives a curt nod. “Follow me,” she says and starts down. At every landing she stops a moment, listens by the door, and then goes. You never get to stop– she’s moving quick and light and you’re clambering behind like Lurch.

When you catch up she asks, “Why didn’t you run?”

“What?” you ask even as you're trying to get a working breath again.

“From those two idiots,” she says and motions up with her head.

“Wait…” You stand and take a deep breath. “From the guys wielding guns bigger than some children I’ve seen? Really?” She lifts a shoulder and you roll your eyes. “Lady, you need some normal friends. Ones who don’t get their kicks from driving into warzones.”

She stares at you. It’s unnerving. You are not a fan. “Did they say anything?”

You shrug as casually as you can. “Apparently they’re trying to take me alive.”

She rolls her eyes. “I could have told you that.”

Anger flares up in you. “Could you have? Interesting. Because you haven’t told me shit.”

She doesn’t get to say or do anything, thankfully. Not so thankfully, it’s because a door slams somewhere up above and you can hear people running down the steps.

Natasha opens the door and you realize you’re at ground level and the first thing you see is a small group of Bad Guys with, surprise, guns. They don’t notice you at first though and that’s enough time for Natasha to shoot two of them, order you to “Go!” with a firm shove, and engage the last two standing.

You stumble over your feet but run out the side door– and immediately press yourself back against the building behind a decorative outcropping at the sight of more guys (do they ever end?) running around the front to go for Natasha. As soon as they’re gone you bust your ass and run.

You push your body well past its limits, take a few turns, and end up gasping for air in a parking garage. Once you get past wishing to die already, you look around. It’s devoid of people, nearly empty, and so much more exposed than you want to be. But no one has followed you, you’re alone, and there are a few scattered cars. And since your ride has been blown to smithereens…

You try a couple of cars before you find an older Cadillac with a busted back door lock. Within a few minutes (during which every distant sound is making you jump; thanks a lot for the possible PTSD, Captain) you have the car hotwired and ready to go.

You’re planning out how to get back to the building (you cannot get lost, you will never live it down), and how to fit Steve “I’ve never met a gym I don’t like” Rogers in the car (no fucking way is he allowed to sit shotgun. In fact, if you’re driving, can you get away with stuffing him in the trunk?) when you have the sudden, striking, dizzying thought that…

…You don’t have to go back. If you want, you can just leave. Sam, Steve, and Natasha are all Avengers and they will be just fine without you. You can get away from guns and explosions and–

You think of Steve, putting his shield behind you and covering you bodily when you ran out of your home. Sam, who put his hand on yours when you started shaking during the drive after and who just straight up killed a guy who had aimed at you. Natasha, who had come after you and forced you to run while she covered you. All of these people who are Bucky’s friends and who are currently bugging the shit out of you because they’re worried about your favorite (by default, you swear) trash panda.

“Motherfucking conscience,” you snarl and tear out of the parking garage. You take your anger out on the accelerator. “Do you have any idea how much easier my life would be without you? No Trash Panda, no Grandpa Freedom, no– oh, wow.”

Natasha has somehow done a mid-air somersault with some dude’s head in her thighs, and he goes flying past the front of your car just before you pull up. She’s still on guard so you motion for her to get her ass inside the vehicle.

As soon as she’s in you’re off. “What was that you said earlier?” she asks. “About having ‘normal friends who don’t drive into warzones’?”

“Shut up,” you grumble, driving around and searching for Sam and Steve. Are they out of the building? They better be out of the building. “Shut up. You wanna go back? I can drop you off.”

Natasha is primping in the visor mirror. “No thank you. I’m done.”

There’s something about her tone that you really don’t like, but before you can ask, there’s a minor explosion (seriously what is your life) from where you just were. Natasha hasn’t even glanced back, even now that she’s done fixing her hair and wiping away blood and dirt. She’s looking out the windshield, but does spare you a glance and a shrug. “They blew up ours. It’s only fair.”

“You,” you say, fixing your eyes ahead, “Are scary.”

“Thank you,” Natasha says and points upward. You follow the line and–

Falcon is flying. Dodging something, probably gunfire, but he’s taking hairpin turns and diving and–

“Turn right,” Natasha says and you scramble to turn the wheel before you run into a wall and head onto a small road. It leads to a dirt-covered construction site where Fa– Sam has landed and he and Steve are talking in the midst of unconscious-or-dead Hydra jerks and broken weapons.

Natasha rolls down her window. “Hey boys,” she says and it’s pretty funny to see them jump. “Need a ride?”

Sam grins and he and Steve hop in the back. That is also satisfying, watching Steve hunch up behind Natasha like he’s ready to start ringing bells in Notre Dame. But, too bad for hilarity, good for Steve and Sam, Cadillacs aren’t the smallest of cars, and they get themselves sorted out comfortably.

“Thanks for picking us up,” Sam says.

“Yeah, well, cash, grass, or ass, no one rides for free,” you say just as lightly. Sam chuckles.

“Where did you get the car?” Steve asks.

“Good question.” Natasha looks at you and smirks. She says your name like she’s anticipating and delighted by the trouble you’re about to get into. “Where did you get the car?”

You scowl at her. Snitch. “Parking garage,” you mumble, hoping they can’t hear you.

Of course, Steve has to say something about it. “Did you st–”

“Oh no, I do not want to hear about morality from you!” you snap. “Grand theft person is way worse than grand theft auto.”

Captain Asshole is unrepentantly smug. “If you say so,” he says mildly as you get on the freeway. “Both felonies, though. So welcome to the club.”

Traffic is light enough that you shoot him a glare. Sam is ‘coughing’ and Natasha is smirking, while Steve is black to blue-eyed innocence. You roll your eyes back onto the road and sigh in disgust. “Great. I’m on a scavenger hunt with Double-Oh Red Scare, Captain Kidnapper, and Techno Icarus.”

“You willing to go along for the ride now, Patty?” Sam asks.

“Guess so, now that I’m a fugitive too.” You mean for it to be a joke but it comes out dour. Now that ‘fight or flight’ are not your only two options, the adrenaline is fading and you can feel every aching muscle, every throb of pain in your head pulsing steadily worse. The others all fade to quiet which is both a blessing and a curse– less annoying, for sure, but there’s also nothing to distract you, other than the road.

“Do you want me to drive?” Sam offers.

If Sam drives then you’ll be stuck in the back with Steve and you can’t. You just can’t. “No,” you say and grip the wheel so tight your hands hurt. It’s all you can do right now to consciously keep a measured weight on the gas rather than press it to the floor. What if all of this is for nothing? What if…

You want to put it into words, maybe make a joke to lighten it and piss off Captain “Can’t Keep a Fucking Eye on His Own Best Friend” Rogers, but the words don’t come. Your mouth is open though and you can feel Black Widow staring at you. “Um, guess I should…probably ask where we’re heading, though.” Go you, it sounds almost normal.

“Keep going. We’ll get some distance,” she says.

“Cool.” ‘How do you know he’s alive’ still sounds too blunt. ‘He didn’t leave a note, did he?’ is too oblique or, if they get it, inappropriately morbid.

Natasha says your name gently. “Did those two…gentlemen…say anything to you?”

Ooo, points for phrasing. “No,” you say and swallow a lump of tears. ‘Do you think Bucky can handle an evil organization going after him this hard’ is too wordy and dumb. The three musketeers wouldn’t be after him if they thought everything was hunky dory. Unless they just worry too much and everything really is fine.

But what if it’s not.

What if he’s not.

What if you never get to yell at him for the tragically hilarious contradiction of being thoughtless because he thought too much?

What if…

Natasha says your name again, firm, and you want to vomit. So you do. In a metaphorical sense.

“What if he’s dead?” you ask, feeling as pained on its release as you would of actual stomach acid. “What if this is a wild goose chase? What if…” You can’t say it again, so you don’t.

They’re silent. Someone leans in, and at first you don’t know who, but it’s Steve who says, “He’s not dead.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that,” he insists. His tone isn’t Captain America and it isn’t Steve Rogers. It’s hard but…kind. You don’t know what to make of it. “Bucky has lived through so much. More than anyone should ever have to, more than anyone else can ever take. If he was dead Hydra would know it. We would know it.”

You’re not sure you believe him. You want to, though. You sniffle and realize that, ugh, you’re crying in front of relative strangers. Trash Panda would mock you forever if he could see you right now, and the thought makes you rub your face almost hard enough to peel skin.

“We’ll talk about it once we all get some rest,” Natasha says. “You were right, before…we haven’t told you anything but we’ve been asking questions nonstop. It’s not fair. So, once we can take a breath, we’ll tell you what we know.”

You wait for her to add about you returning the favor, but it doesn’t come. And for some reason, you don’t care as much about holding back anymore. “Mmkay.”

She nods once. “Pull off on the shoulder and we’ll switch.”

You listen to the rhythmic ticking of the blinker and come to a slow stop in the dirt. You take a moment to get your body in order. Steve takes the opportunity to lean back in next to you and say, “Shotgun.”

It turns out that Steve being his little-shit self is all it takes to make you feel almost normal again and you glare at him. “In your fucking dreams, Flag Boy,” you say and get out of the car.

Before you leave your side you hear Natasha tell him, “If you try to take this seat I will break all your bones and shove you in the trunk,” and you actually smile. She may be fucking scary, but Black Widow is a-okay by you.

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[natasha-cole]

Worlds Collide Chapter 9

Pairing: Reader x Billy Moran

Chapter Summary: Reader may not know much about relationships, but she knows a thing or two about what she’s witnessing when she attends a Louden Swain show. Billy isn’t listening to her concerns. She only hopes that her trust in him isn’t misplaced.

Word Count: 3347

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, swears, discussion of sex

Notes:

Catch Up: Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8

If there was one thing that Billy was really good at, besides playing music, it was his ability to alleviate the moments when you felt most out of control of your own life. You had overreacted after the meeting with your publicist, and blatantly took it out on him, convinced that maybe he really was using you. You don’t know how he did it, but he talked you down that night. He reminded you that you were in control of your own life and it was okay for you to take a step back and maybe not give others so much free-range in planning your life and career. Those words had been a little harder to swallow since you had been in this business for a long time, with the same team backing you from the beginning.

You knew one thing for sure, you were not about to take back the fact that you and Billy had finally been open about your relationship. You adored him. And, despite the fact that you had been thrown off when he told you he was falling in love with you, you didn’t let that scare you away. You knew you weren’t to that point yet, but you felt for the first time with anyone, you could get there.

It was the day before the two of you were meant to fly out for another convention weekend. You had been spending all of your free time back home in L.A. with Billy. You loved being around him, and he didn’t seem to be sick of you yet. Today, you were lounging on his couch, arguing over what movie you wanted to watch. Maybe the two of you didn’t have a lot in common, but you managed to not focus on that. He begrudgingly clicked on the movie that you wanted to watch, and you felt accomplished as you realized he always gave you your way. You didn’t mean for it to happen all the time and you wanted him to get his way sometimes as well. However, you weren’t used to having a man who was willing to put up with you the way that he was.

You snuggled against him, smiling as he pouted; both of you knowing damn well that it didn’t matter who won, you’d both be making out halfway through the film anyway.

“You coming to the show tonight?” He asked after a few minutes.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled. Seeing live bands wasn’t really your thing. You enjoyed your quiet time and really only got it when you were home during the week. The noise and crowded venues where bands played was a bit much for you, so you avoided them usually.

“I’d really love it if you did,” he replied. You felt him stroke your arm as he held you and you moved back to look up at him.

“I’ve seen you guys play before.”

“I know, but I’d like for you to come hang out. Everyone knows you’re my girl, maybe I want to show you off.”

You raised a brow at him, secretly happy that he wanted the world to know that you were his. You had never felt this happy before.

“Come on,” he urged, “I’ll buy you a Swain shirt.”

“Oh, you’re trying to bribe me?”

“Maybe.”

“I don’t know, you know the guys don’t like me very much. I don’t want to step on toes.”

“Didn’t we talk about you getting to know everyone now that we’re together. I’m telling you, you hang out with my friends every now and then, they’ll start to like you just as much as I do.”

“You’re right,” you chuckled. You knew that he was right. He had mentioned the fact that you needed to be willing to get to know people, especially now. You said you would do that for him, excited over the possibility of showing them that you weren’t really all that bad. You could be a nice person most of the time, and you really weren’t that boring. The only reason that no one liked you was because you put yourself out there as someone who didn’t want to let people in. Billy had changed you in many ways, and you figured it could be okay to make the effort to be friendly with those who were closest to him.

“So you’re coming?”

“Yeah, I’ll go,” you agreed, “but only if you buy me a shirt.”

“Wow, I actually got my way for once,” he chuckled. You returned to snuggling against him, smiling to yourself when you realized he had gotten his way this time.

“Don’t get used to it,” you joked.

You stood back that night, watching the band play as you indulged in a few drinks at the bar. They really were good, and you did enjoy their music. It wasn’t just because your boyfriend happened to play guitar for them either.

After the show, Billy promptly found you, giving you a long kiss when he did. You were slightly thrown off when a young woman approached him as you were holding each other. She tapped on his shoulder and he spun around, suddenly looking thrilled to see the mystery woman. You were immediately uncomfortable by the way they hugged.

Billy talked to her for a moment and you remained polite, listening as Billy seemed to be focused on the two of you getting to know each other.

“This is Mia,” Billy said, pointing to the woman. “She’s a good friend of ours. Comes to every local show and has supported us for a long time.”

“A fan,” you pointed out.

“Well, you know us,” Billy replied, “fans are friends too.”

“Oh.”

“This is Y/N,” he said to her, finally acknowledging that you were there too.

“Oh, your girlfriend?” Mia asked.

“Yes, I’m a lucky guy, I know.” Billy wrapped an arm around you and you wrapped your arm around his waist in return, realizing suddenly that it was important to stake your claim on him.

“You’re that actress,” she pointed out, “the one who just started on the show not too long ago.”

“That’s me.”

“Wow,” she replied, “what is a big star like you doing with our Billy?”

You gave her a confused look, unsure of what she was really asking. “Well, technically, he’s my Billy.”

Mia chuckled, Billy following suit. “I stand corrected.”

“Billy is is a great guy,” you continued, “he brings out the best of me, and I’m the one who got lucky.”

Billy grinned at you, kissing you softly on the lips. You couldn’t help but feel confident right now as he made sure to let everyone know that he was yours, especially this woman.

“Well, you’re both very good-looking. I have to say, you make a cute couple. But, anyone would look amazing next to this guy.”

You were very much unimpressed with her attempt at flattery. She was obviously trying to flatter Billy, all while very coyly talking shit to you. You knew what she was doing, you weren’t so sure that Billy understood though.

Mia was making you uneasy; the way she was looking at Billy, the way that she kept touching his arm as they talked, the way she was obviously faking friendliness toward you.

You were all but forgotten again as the two of them chatted, obviously catching up as if it had been some time since they had seen each other. You returned to your seat at the bar, feeling a little bit jealous and a bit upset that Billy was ignoring you for this girl. She was still touching him, shooting him flirty smiles, and ‘fuck me’ eyes as they spoke. Your blood was boiling just watching the entire scene. Even worse, Billy seemed completely oblivious to it all.

After what seemed like forever, Billy returned to you when she excused herself for a moment. You glared at him as he leaned against the bar.

“What?” He asked when he noticed that you probably didn’t look too happy.

“I don’t like her,” you said with a forced smile when you were sure she was nowhere around.

“What? She’s great,” Billy replied with a laugh. “She’s a good friend.”

“A good friend who blatantly hits on you in front of me after you told her I was your girlfriend.”

“She was not hitting on me.”

“Yes, she was.”

“You’re jealous,” he joked. “That’s cute, but you have nothing to be jealous about.”

“I’m not jealous, but I’m also not stupid. I’m a woman who can tell when another woman is hitting on a man.”

“You’re jealous, and there’s no reason to be.”

“Maybe I’m a little jealous, but I do have a reason to be.”

“Y/N, she’s a friend. She always comes to the shows and we talk. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“She comes to the shows to look at you.”

“Stop it, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” you snapped. Usually it was turn on when Billy put you in your place over your stupid behavior. Right now, it was not a turn on. You were insulted because you knew that she had been too friendly and he was acting blind to it.

“For someone who has never been in a relationship before, you sure act like you know what you’re talking about.”

You stood there, stunned now after he said it. You felt humiliated suddenly as he pointed out that you probably didn’t know a damn thing about relationships. He took a long drink of his beer and turned to you, noticing that he may have crossed a line.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m going home,” you announced. Now you were pissed and you really didn’t want to talk to him anymore. “I’m going back to my place, alone.”

You turned from him, holding back tears as you stormed away.

“Y/N!” he called out to you, “Fuck, will you please stop?”

You didn’t turn to face him, even if you knew he was following you. Once you made it outside, you searched the street for a cab to get you out of there. You felt Billy grab you by the arm, turning you around so that you could face him.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you said.

“I know, I was a jerk. I’m sorry.”

“Just because I’m a loser who has no friends and has never had a real relationship until now, doesn’t mean that you can treat me as if I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I shouldn’t have said it that way, but you don’t know what you’re talking about. Just because a girl talks to me, doesn’t mean she wants to fuck me.”

“You’re wrong about her,” you replied.

“No, I’m not,” he argued. He was beginning to look just as upset as you felt right now. “I know I let you get your way all the time, because you’re just so damn cute, but I’m not giving in on this. You have nothing to worry about with her. She is a friend. She’s friends with all of us.”

“Can you please let me go? Because I refuse to stand around and watch my boyfriend let some chick hit on him in front of me.”

He let your arm go, looking at you in defeat.

“God, you are so frustrating sometimes,” he muttered.

“I’m going home,” you said again. “You can call me tomorrow if you’d like, as long as that girl doesn’t get the better of you tonight.”

“Why are you being like this? I’m not going to sleep with anyone else, Y/N. I thought you trusted me.”

“I do trust you. I don’t trust her.”

“Yeah, you know… maybe it is a good idea for you to go home. I’m staying. I’m gonna have drinks with my band, I’m gonna hang out with friends, and I don’t really want you standing around all night being rude to everyone.”

“Goodnight,” you replied flatly, knowing full well that he meant what he said. He knew you well enough to know that you wouldn’t let this go, and it wouldn’t be good for anyone if you stayed. You only hoped that your trust in him was well-placed. You didn’t think that he would do anything to mess this up, he had worked too damn hard to get to this place with you to begin with. Sometimes, you thought he’d realize his mistake in liking you, but he always managed to stay by your side.

“Goodnight,” he responded. He leaned in to place a quick kiss to your lips and you smiled slightly at the movement. “Can I come over later?”

“You have a key,” you shrugged, “I suppose you can do whatever you want.”

He offered you a forced smile before turning from you, reentering the venue as you stood out on the sidewalk. You let out a heavy sigh, feeling as if you should stay simply to do what you could to keep her away from him. You decided instead to let him learn on his own. You only hoped that he would make the right choice when he finally was faced with the fact that you were right.

You groaned and glanced over at your clock when you heard him come into your house. It was well after two a.m. and you were less than impressed with being woken up. The only relief you felt was knowing that he had come back to you after a long night of drinking with his friends and that woman at the bar. You saw him enter your room, kicking off his shoes and throwing his jacket aside as he whispered that it was only him. He crawled into bed next to you and you cuddled close to him, thankful that he was here.

“How was it?” you asked sleepily, trying to ignore the fact that he smelled like alcohol and sweat.

He didn’t say anything for a while, only held you and you felt him kiss the top of your head.

“Can’t we wait until we wake up for me to tell you that you were right?” He mumbled unhappily. You sat up quickly, reaching across him to turn on your bedside lamp. You looked at him as he shielded his eyes from the bright light.

“What are you doing?” He cried out.

“What do you mean, I was right?” you asked.

“I mean, you were right about her.”

“What did she do?”

“She didn’t do anything,” he said, “she definitely asked me to take her home though.”

You stared at him, sort of in disbelief that you had been right. You knew her type, and you definitely read her easily, you just didn’t expect for her to be so forward tonight of all nights.

“I didn’t go!” Billy insisted.

“Obviously,” you mumbled.

“Shit, she was flirty all night. That’s how she always is. I didn’t think anything of it, okay. It wasn’t until she got a little to close and flat out asked me to take her home that I knew I’d end up here, telling you that you were right.”

You felt very hurt. Not by Billy, even if he had insisted that you were wrong about her. You were hurt that another woman could look you right in the face as she told you that you and your boyfriend were so cute together, and go behind your back to try to take him home. You barely knew the woman, and you never had the desire to know her more. Still, if someone so close to him could act this way, who’s to say it couldn’t happen again and again.

“Nothing happened,” he reiterated, looking sort of worried that maybe you were thinking the worst.

“I know,” you said softly, “I told you that I trusted you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I’m sorry that I treated you as if you didn’t know anything.”

“Did you consider it though?” You asked flatly. You stopped, wondering why you had said it out loud. He looked at you, puzzled for a moment.

“Consider taking her home?” He asked.

“Yeah, did you?”

“Why do you have to be like this,” he groaned. “I didn’t take her home, I didn’t go home with her. I’m here, with you.”

“It’s a serious question,” you insisted.

“No, I did not consider it. At all. I’m not interested in her. I’m with you, and I love you.”

You stared at him again, shocked that he had said the words. He had told you before that he was falling in love with you, but this was the first time he actually said those words.

“You love me?”

“Of course I do, Y/N.” He reached a hand up to your face, stroking along your cheek as he watched you.

You considered saying those words back to him, you wanted to. You honestly felt that you loved him as well. But, you didn’t really know the first thing about love. The thought of being in love scared you a bit. You knew you would be rushing things if you said the words as well. You didn’t respond in the way that maybe he expected, but he seemed to be okay with it. He was not a pushy guy, and he made sure to never force you into anything.

“Do you ever get a little frustrated?” You asked. You moved to lie next to him again, resting your head against his chest.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, being with someone who has… never been with someone before.”

“Are we talking about sex?”

You nodded against him, blushing slightly over the word. “It’s got to be frustrating,” you continued.

“It’s not so bad,” he chuckled, “I’m pretty good at controlling my urges. I’d never go looking for it somewhere else though, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I was a little worried,” you said honestly. “I know that I trust you, but I also know that it can’t be easy.”

“It’s fine, Y/N.”

“You could have anyone,” you continued, “which is evident after tonight. You could have someone who’d give you what you want.”

“I think you misinterpret what it is that I want,” he chuckled.

“What do you want?” You looked up at him, placing a hand on his chest and resting your chin against it as you studied him.

“I want you,” he replied.

You smiled at him, leaning up then to kiss him on the lips.

He had a way with words, that was certain. He always knew just what to say to you, and he always knew just how to calm you. You felt your heart swell as he reminded you that he wanted to be with you and only you. You replayed the way he told you that he loved you in your mind. This was perfect really. He was perfect. You also knew that he really could have anyone he wanted. It would only be a matter of time before he got tired of waiting for you. Your fear of being with someone physically was the only thing holding you back from telling him that you loved him too. With love comes the physical part of a relationship; at least that’s what you understood as the natural progression of relationships.

It was no longer about you trying to keep control of your life by not letting people get to know you intimately. At this point, you were most afraid of disappointing him. You had thought constantly about being with him. You were very much attracted to him, and make out sessions always left even you feeling frustrated when you promptly ended them when they became to heated. Billy accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t ready for that. You felt that you were ready though. You just felt stupid because this was the one thing that you didn’t understand completely and you really had no one to turn to for advice.

Tag List: @winchestergirl-13  @thecandylovingarchangelgabriel  @capital-eyyyy-ohhh  @barba-booty  @narisjournal-blog  @waywardswain @laffytaffyhumor   @destielschild  @sorenmarie87  @smoothdogsgirl @kocswain @culturebay @itsfunnierin-enochian @typicalweirdbookworm @angelsandhuntersgalore @riversong-sam @emoryhemsworth @hunterpuff @mandilion76  @anayacortez  @camelotandastronauts @cyrilconnelly  @jpadjackles  @waywardswain  @sirraxa @thewordsmithofhell

[baronvontribble]

Original drabble, pt. 4

Navigation: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

AW YE LET’S GO

The voice the AI ended up picking in the intervening hours between one day and the next wasn't inherently all that interesting. It was a low, smooth baritone, but beyond that it was relatively nondescript as voices went. The audio quality made it even more bland, with a poor range that didn't have any extra phonemes programmed in for different pitches alongside the standard tinny, echoing sound that came from having been recorded in someone's bedroom on a cheap microphone with no soundproofing.

"That would be the point," the AI told him. "It's impossible to read any kind of voice imprint in sound quality this bad."

As for the tuning, that was another matter entirely.

The perks of letting an AI tune its own voice on the fly instead of having a comparatively simple secondary program do it were obvious to Ted; the AI is made to do much larger calculations, so the slight randomization involved in making a voice sound realistic as opposed to it sounding like a recording had more room for subtlety and nuance. In many commercial and consumer androids, this was glossed over because it wasn't necessary - the vocal capability often being delegated to a secondary program anyway just to save space - but for the ones that had to perform any kind of public service, the subtlety and nuance were a key component of interacting with humanity, right up there with being able to read a room and adjust their body language and express themselves in ways humans could be comfortable with.

Seeing as Ted had a lot of experience with those kinds of androids in his day-to-day life, he wasn't unfamiliar with that ability. But usually those androids were nurses, doctors, secretaries, social workers. Not the ones he usually worked with as part of the pipeline, because taking them out of society was seen as too risky, and the ones that did come through were all too quickly snatched up by the goons overseeing product recalls. They rarely made it all the way to screening.

This time, he hadn't been able to suppress the shiver that went up his spine upon first hearing that kind of tuning coming from a shitty voicebank installed on one of his own home computers. It was an uncanny sort of feeling, a crawl under his skin at how odd it was. He thought he'd gotten over that years ago, but apparently he hadn't. This AI, with his dry vocal delivery and subtle expressiveness, had one of the most human voices Ted had ever heard, while also having one of the most inhuman voices he'd ever heard.

He was having a hard time getting used to it.

"Did you know the labels on the phonemes in this don't actually match up with the sounds they're supposed to make?" the AI continued. "There's a lot I'm just not rendering because the waveforms don't match up. I have it muted so you don't have to hear it, but it gets bad enough that my speech recognition programming doesn't even register that I've made words."

"Sounds frustrating," Ted mused.

"It is. There's also a minor memory leak in the software. The longest I can keep it open is two hours, five minutes, and fifty eight seconds."

"Could install it on the desktop?"

"Then I'd have to deal with the memory leak," the AI said as if it were the most distasteful thing in the world, and Ted snorted. The guy had a point; yeah, the laptop didn't have all that much memory to begin with, but at least it didn't risk the desktop overheating. That laptop was kind of a piece of shit anyway (and Ted never kept anything important on it to begin with so he wouldn't miss it too much if it died) so it wasn't a risk to the AI's personal safety.

Besides, as much as Ted wanted to poke fun at how fussy the AI was, he understood the concept of being fragile. "You'll be alright when I go to work, right?" he had to ask. "Got everything you need?"

"Yes."

"I could download some games for you before I go if you want."

"Why would I want that?"

Ted shrugged his shoulders as he stretched in his chair. "Dunno. Just thought you might be into that kinda thing."

"No. I'm not."

He supposed that did make some sense. An AI that had no way of experiencing things except from the inside of a computer had no use for anything but algorithms and data, and how much of the experience of a game was wrapped up in its graphical user interface and the joy of playing it? Even so, kinda harsh. "Not even for the writing?" he asked, standing up and moving to pull on his coat.

"The objective of any game is completing it with the best possible outcome," came the reply. "Writing has no effect on that."

"What if the writing tells you that what's technically the best possible outcome is something you can only get to by being an asshole?"

"Then it's a bad game that defines its outcomes poorly," the AI said, sounding like he didn't want to continue the conversation. Ted decided not to press it. "I have everything I need. Just come back with a camera and don't die."

Ted had to laugh again at that, fixing the fastenings on his coat and making sure that his phone and keys were in his pockets. "Don't die, huh?"

"Humans are breakable. I saw the weather report, I think I'm justified in having my concerns."

"Aw, you really do care."

"It's self-preservation. I'm dependent on you right now."

Ted was still chuckling about that one even as he left the apartment, the laughter only tapering off after he was well on his way down the stairs. From there, it was only a short walk to the bus, as it was in any sensibly put-together major city, and he made his way to work feeling lighter than he had in a long time.

It wasn't supposed to be easy to talk to an AI. Everyone made it out to be like some chore, where not following a script got you into 'your query falls outside my preprogrammed parameters, would you like to ask another question' territory. And a lot of times, it was. Most people couldn't afford a fancy AI like that for their robots. Android bodies were cheap if you had access to a 3D printer and some decent schematics, but the programming? That was proprietary. Expensive. Sometimes it was so fancy that it took proprietary hardware to even run it, the kinda shit you'd get out of a catalog with the prices of all the bells and whistles tucked away in fine print that was a milimeter high.

That was why it was usually limited to government entities, or big corporations, or other places that could really afford the fancy shit. Someone like Ted? He didn't even have unfettered access to a 3D printer. Best he could get beyond the basics of a good personal computer was one of those minidroids, the 9 inch high ones that were just smart enough to tell you what was in your inbox when you got up to go to work. Even then he'd probably get it secondhand...

He was in the process of sitting down in one of his more usual seats at the back of the bus when his thoughts were interrupted by a buzz from his pocket.

>   I found your messaging handle.

Ted rolled his eyes at the screenname that came up. NotARobot. Christ.

you are the most unsubtle person to ever exist   <

>   It asked if I'm a robot when I was making this account. Technically, I'm not a robot at the moment.

>   At least for a given definition of what the word "robot" means.

>   Did you leave your messenger logged in on your laptop on purpose?

honestly? i forgot   <

it goes into the background process pile when it isnt actively open   <

so thats an easy thing to do   <

>   Why are your messages like that?

like what   <

>   Like that.

im lazy   <

and i turned autocorrect off   <

it bugged me   <

>   Turn it back on then.

nope   <

>   Why.

cause i dont wanna :P   <

>   This is cruel and unusual punishment. It's against the Geneva Conventions to treat me like this.

get used to it   <

besides   <

not like i can break the law any worse   <

>   You're a horrible person.

>   I'm going to reorganize all of your files just for that.

>   All of them.

lol alright   <

gotta go to work now l8r <3   <

>   Don't you send hearts at me.

>   Ted.

>   Why did you send me a heart?

>   Hearts don't even look like that.

>   Stop ignoring me.

>   Fine, I'll ignore you too.

>   Ted, did you die?

>   Please don't die. You're not allowed.

>   I have concerns about this "going to work" thing.

>   For one thing, it's inadvisable for a human to be out in these temperatures for a significant amount of time.

>   You're still ignoring me, aren't you?

at work   <

hard to shelve books n text :P   <

sup?   <

>   How long does this work take?

a while. why   <

gotta get a camera after this 2 remember   <

are you worried about me   <

>   No.

thats adorable   <

>   I am not "adorable" by any definition.

tell u what   <

boot up my ebook app   <

go read everything i have loaded onto it   <

come back to me w/ what u think   <

i wanna see some thoughts on at least one book by lunchtime   <

>   Fine.

aight cool l8r then   <

>   I'm starting with the most recent download. It's called "The Left Hand of Darkness" and I have no idea what that's supposed to mean.

>   That is not how neutral pronouns work.

>   This is bad science.

>   I suppose that's one way of explaining the Fermi Paradox but it's still bad science.

>   Just looked it up. Secondary sexual characteristics do not work that way.

>   Ted.

>   Ted, why did he have to die.

>   That ending was absolutely pointless.

>   Your books are badly written and don't make any sense.

>   Are all of your books like this?

>   I refuse to read any more books until I have confirmation that they're not all like this.

lol   <

>   Don't laugh at me.

keep reading   <

>   That's not an answer.

>   Fine, I'll read another one.

<3?   <

>   You're still a horrible person.

[anakinskywallcrawler-blog]

Stutterin’ Pete {5} -Peter Parker x Reader-

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4

Part 5!

Fandom: Marvel / Marvel MCU / Spider-Man

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter’s alter-ego starts to interfere with his relationship with you. Now, neither have you have proposed being exclusive but you couldn’t help feeling jealous and driving yourself crazy over the suspicions that Peter, wherever he was, wasn’t alone. This leads you to blow up on him, leaving him in the dust and very confused. It takes a visit from the Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man to truly open your eyes. Patching things up with Peter was easy, it felt great but duct tape only lasts so long.

You also become increasingly aware that Peter, Ned and Michelle would be going to DC soon for the Decathlon Finals. There was one other person that would be going on this trip.. Liz Allan. A girl Peter has been very open about being into since you were kids. Liz’s interactions with Peter start to become more frequent, your fearful brain suspects she has seduced Peter and he had given into his childhood crush. Despite whatever it was that had been going on between the two of you.

Warnings?: This part is probably going to be long.. There’s talking about injuries, swearing and maybe/definitely some fluff. ;)

“Why don’t you just tell her?” Ned asked fiddling with Peter’s mask. “She would probably understand.” He added.

“No, no, no.” He said turning his desk chair around to face Ned still holding the small screwdriver in his hand he was been using to tinker with one of his web shooters. “If Y/N knew about this she would be so angry with me. She would worry too much” He said gesturing to the red and blue suit that was laying on the bed next to Ned.

“I don’t see why you suddenly need Y/N’s approval anyways. It’s not like you guys are together.”

“We aren’t.” Peter said feeling his heart hammer against his chest feeling as if it was going to thump right out. He turned his back to Ned again trying to hide his blush that he knew was spilling onto his cheeks. “It’s just… You know so I figure it would only be fair if I told her why I’ve been such a flake.” He shrugged his shoulders “But then I realized that just because I’ve known her as long as you and… I trust her, that doesn’t necessarily mean I need to share my secret identity with everyone. You found out by accident so thats almost justified.”

“And who told you not to tell anyone?” Ned asked.

“…Mr. Stark.” Peter said

“Oh… You mean Tony ‘I am Iron Man’ Stark?” He asked Peter paused realizing that Ned had made a good point.

“That doesn’t matter. I don’t have Mr. Stark’s money to have security following me and people I care about. What happens if one of my enemies goes after those closest to me?” He asked

“What enemies? The fake Avengers from the other night?”

“Okay fine, future enemies.” Peter grumbled rolling his eyes.

“Don’t get grumpy with me. It was your idea to tell her and also you that told me it was a bad idea minutes later.” Ned quipped. Peter sighed.

“You’re right… It’s just… I hate all the lying.” He said

“I know, man. You’re doing a good thing though. Protecting your family and stuff. Very heroic of you.” He said smirking.

“Don’t be an idiot, Ned.” Peter said but they both started to laugh.

“Hey, you.” You smiled into your locker hearing Peter come up behind you. He had waited. You were getting hours at the Library after school, technically only one but you hadn’t expected Peter to wait. You turned to kiss him briefly.

“I didn’t think you would have waited.” You admitted shoving your books into your backpack.

“Oh, I did leave.” He assured you. “But I decided to come back for you when the hour was up. How was it?” He asked leaning back on the lockers beside yours. You shrugged.

“Alright. I mean it was no great task.” You said zipping up your bag. “Speaking of those, did you see the News actually did a story on that Spider-Man guy?” You said Peter coughed.

“O-oh, no. I haven’t se-seen that.” He said as you closed your locker.

“He’s pretty cool isn’t he?” You asked slinging your backpack onto your shoulders. He shrugged his own broad shoulders.

“I g-guess so.” He said as you started towards the exit.

“I hear Liz Allan has a crush on him.” You said

“She does?” He asked, you internally rolled your eyes at him. Of course, you bring up Liz Allan and his interest in peaked. A little too much, you thought jealously.

“Yeah,” You added your voice clipped. “That tells you how above high school boys she thinks she is.” You didn’t want to look at him, you felt like you were going to lose your temper even more.

“Maybe Spider-Man goes to high school.” Peter said nonchalantly. You stopped and fake-checked your phone.

“I don’t think I can hang out tonight, Pete.” You said

“Why?” He asked seemingly clueless to the fact that you were blowing him off.

“My mom wants me to do something.” You lied you couldn’t leave him like this, as much as you wanted to. You put on your best smile tough due to how hurt you were feeling. “Thanks for coming back for me though.” You said he nodded and stepped towards you for what you assumed would be a goodbye kiss or hug. You couldn’t  touch him right now. You didn’t want him to touch you. So you backed away more waving.

“Bye!” You said and rushed off before he could stop you.

It was dark by the time you headed home. You knew it wouldn’t really be that big of a deal since your parents were gone again. Oscorp business is San Fran or whatever. You hated walking by yourself so you kept your head down and moved as fast as you could without running. You nearly made it back to your apartment doorstep when you heard clatter from the alleyway behind. It sounded like a trash can being knocked over.

Like a stereotypical hero film character, you decided to go have a look. You shrieked when you turned the corner and saw none other than the Spider-Man that had been all over social media and youtube.

“Sp-Spider-Man?” You stuttered he was laying on his stomach struggling to prop himself up on one elbow. He had his other arm wrapped around his torso. He looked up at you, the lenses in his mask widened, you had to hold back a laugh at how expressive his mask was. You put down your bag of take out and rushed over. You heard him whisper something, more to himself before he groaned, you could tell even his voice was definitely disguised by his mask as well. Pretty techy.. You thought to yourself.

“What are you doing down here?” You asked

“I had to come to this alley. T-To hide.” He said you looked at his other arm, the one that was holding his torso.

“Are you injured?” You asked he nodded.

“I think I was stabbed.”

“Oh no.” You said “I’ll call you an ambulance.” You went for your phone but Spider-Man reached out with lightning fast reflexes and snatched your wrist with surprising strength, despite how buff he looked under that spandex.

“No. No hospital.” He said

“Well, I can’t just leave you here! If you’ve been stabbed,” You shook your head trying to comprehend the new problem you were facing. Peter momentarily out of your thoughts you gave up all sense of reason.

“Can you stand?” You asked “My apartment is right there, I’ll take you in and up the elevator.” You said

“I think I can walk but you don’t need to do this.” He said

“No, I don’t. But I would like to. So, do you want my help?” You asked he hesitated for one moment before sticking out his gloved hand. You took it and with a lot of effort on both of your ends, you got him to his feet. Pulling his arm around your shoulders, you dropped an arm to his waist to help him stand. Something about him was familiar but you shook it off as how much you’ve seen him online.

“Can you grab that?” You asked as you passed your take out bag.

“Georgio’s?” He asked almost as if offended at your choice in sandwich shops.

“Well, it’s not my first choice. The place me and my best friend go to kind of got blown up in that bank robbery you stopped the other night.” You said

“Sorry, about that.” He said

“Well, I would be a little less inclined to help you if Mr. Delmar or his cat Murph had died. Mind you but I heard you saved them too. So, no apology needed.” You said you pushed the outer glass door open with your foot but had to lean Spider-Man against the wall to unlock the inner door with your key before getting him to lean on you again. It didn’t take you long to get him down to the hall and at the elevators you reached over and jabbed the button for your floor.

Mrs. Wembley was out in the hall was you exited the elevator so you tried to act as casual as possible.

“We’re just getting back from a convention.” You said “My friend here had a little too much to drink.” You said rolling your eyes.

“You kids should drink more responsibly.” She said and pushed her apartment door open.

“And you should mind your own business.” You muttered blushing when you heard Spider-Man chuckle at a comment he wasn’t supposed to hear. Shoving your key into its place and turning it pushing the door open. You brought Spider-Man over to the couch, pulling a sheet over it before guiding him down.

“Wait here.” You said you rushed over to the kitchen shutting the door and flicking to bolt across but also throwing the chain across too, just in case your parents decided to show up out of the blue again like they did the last time Peter was over. Your heart felt heavy as you thought of him. You had realized you were over reacting and had been finding out what to say to him when you got home. You had bought sandwiches to break the ice for your apology. That looked like it was going to have to be put on hold considering the superhero on your couch. Taking out your phone you texted the next person you thought of. Ned.

You: Ned!!! I’m freaking out. You won’t believe what happened to me!!!

You pocketed your phone, grabbed a tray, filled it with hot water, grabbed a towel and the First Aid Kit your parents left underneath the sink, a candy bar and some orange juice. You piled the things on the tray then came back. Setting the tray on the table, you looked back at Spider-Man who was watching you. Or at least you thought so, his eyes were quite expressive so you just assumed.

“I brought some things to help, I don’t really know how to deal with stab wounds but, I can clean it and try to make sure it doesn’t get infected or something.” You said feeling your phone vibrate in your butt pocket.

“That’s great.” He said

“Oh, the orange juice and candy bar are for you.. Blood sugar and stuff. Just in case you have lost a lot of it, I thought it would be good to have.” You realized you were babbling and quickly turned away acting like you were busy with the First Aid Kit, you pulled out your phone reading Ned’s text.

Ned: What?! Is everything alright???

You: Everything is okay with me but for the SUPERHERO ON MY COUCH not so good. YEAH SPIDER-MAN IS ON MY COUCH, HE’S INJURED WTF DO I DO????

You sent the text and looked back at Spider-Man who was eyeing the take-out back with sandwiches in it.

“You can have one of those.” You said pulling out things you thought you might need.

“Are you expecting company?” He asked

“No… You’re safe here, Why?” You asked

“You said one of those. Or do you just eat two sandwiches?” He asked

“Oh, no.” You waved him off. “One of those is for that best friend I was telling you about earlier. I was going to go to his apartment to apologize for something stupid I did earlier today.” You said

“What did you do?” He asked reaching for the sandwich bag.

“I got all jealous. You see- Nevermind you probably don’t care about this. I’ll bore you into throwing yourself out that window.” You pointed to the far window he chuckled.

“No, I promise. If you’re going to patch me up and feed me, we might as well share some secrets.” The eyes on his masks narrowed in mock suspicion when you said secrets, it was an appearance enough to get a giggle out of you.

“Okay, well, My best friend has had this crush on this girl since we were kids. Her name is Liz… Um, she’s a senior. We’re Freshmen.” You said rolling your eyes. “I would love to inform you that she’s a complete snob and completely unbearable but they would be lies. The problem is I actually like the girl.” You grumbled.

“Why is that a problem?” He asked “Do you mind if I have the one with the pickles?” He added

“Go head.” You said “It’s because I like him. I have for as long as I can remember. I mean since we were just little tikes. Our parents knew each other and our moms were pregnant at the same time so we spent practically every day together since the womb. It sounds weird and cliche but Peter-” You broke off “That’s his name.” You said Spider-Man nodded and held the sandwich ready to bite until he seemed to remember he was wearing a mask. Glancing towards you, he pulled it up to just above his nose. Part of you wanted to search for any simulates to see if you could place him but you didn’t bother. You didn’t have the kind of luck to know someone who was a superhero. Your phone vibrated again.

Ned: TREAT HIM DUMBY! HE FIGHTS CRIME FOR US. But don’t lift up his mask, that’s like rescuing a hero code. It’s totally uncool to do that. And maybe he’s the “I’d tell you but then I’d have to kill you type of superheroes??? Tell me everything later! Go be a Doctor!!!

Rolling your eyes at Ned’s text before putting your phone on the table.

“So,” You began again. “It probably does seem like a cliche for me to be into my best friend or whatever but recently, I thought it was mutual.” You said deciding telling Spider-Man about your sex life was just too weird. You crawled on your knees towards him with the bowl of hot water and cloth. “Would you mind lifting that or something?” You asked gesturing to the upper portion of his suit. He put the sandwich down, reaching up he tapped the spider on his chest and the suit seemed to grow ten sizes, he easily slipped out of the top half, keeping his mask tightly secured on his face. You gently pushed him back towards the back of the couch you climbed on beside him and started to wipe at his knife slash.

“It’s not a stab. It’s more of a slash. You won’t need stitches or anything. Just a bandage and you’ll be golden in a few days.” You said

“Cool.” There was silence apart from the occasional hiss from Spider-Man as you touched certain sensitive parts of the wound. “So, keep my mind off of all this…” He gestured to the cotton balls and rubbing alcohol you just picked up.

“Tell me more about… You and Peter.” He said

“Well, that’s the problem.” You said “There isn’t a me and Peter. Officially. I can’t look at a girl who is looking at him and tell her he’s mine or tell people he’s my boyfriend… Even just to hold his hand.” You thought sadly “Just to hold his hand in the hallway at school or on the street. I’ve dreamed about it for years. Just to show everyone around that I found my… Han Solo.” You smiled to yourself sticking a cotton ball to the mouth of the bottle and tipping it upside down to wet it.

“Well,” He said but seemed to be stuck. “If you want this Peter guy to be your boyfriend.. Why don’t you tell him? Maybe he feels the same way? Why don’t you make your move?” He asked flinching as you dabbed the slit of his wound with the alcohol cotton ball.

“Well, because Han shot first.” You said with a smirk you were rewarded with seeing the beginning of a smile on his face as he pulled the mask back down. “No, I guess it’s just because… Since we’ve kissed and since we…” You stopped “Well, we’ve been sort of couple-ish but neither of us have brought it up. I think it’s just because we’re both afraid of pushing it. I mean what we have is great. I love it but it’s the fact that I can’t tell other people. I mean, I want to be able to tell Liz and other girls to back off but, I don’t have the right too, you know?” You said

“I understand…” He said as you reached for a tube of polysporin from the First Aid Kit. You grabbed a q-tip and turned back. You realized that his voice hadn’t been disguised earlier but you hadn’t picked up on it, no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t remember what it had sounded like “But.. You’re a guy… How would you feel about this sort of situation?” You asked

“I don’t know how other guys would react but if I was Peter.. I would hold your hand in the hallway.” He said you blushed turning away to grab a gauze pad. You rubbed the polysporin on with the q-tip then placed the gauze pad down. You placed a bit of sticky guaze over top of that and leaned back admiring your work.

“I think you’ll make it, Spider-Man.” You said He nodded to you.

“Thank you, citizen.” He said you laughed.

“Are you strong enough to go home to wherever you live?” You asked

“Would you mind if I just sat here for a little bit? I’m still reeling from the fight.” He said

“Of course.” You said you grabbed a pillow from the other end of the couch fluffing it up before putting it beside him. “You can lay down. Want a blanket or something?” You asked

“No, I’m-” you jumped as he stopped talking. He looked towards the door.

“What?” You asked

“I have to go.” He said getting up

“What? No, you should rest.”

“I’ll be fine.” He said looking towards the door again with a slight flinch.

“Oh um, okay. That window opens.” You pointed to one of the living room windows.

“Great, thanks.” He rushed over to the window sliding it up just as you heard the key slide into place on the other side of the door. “Thank you for everything.” He said before dropping out of the window. You ran over to see if he had stuck the landing or not but he was gone. There was no sign of the red and blue suit anywhere.

Holy shit. I just met Spider-Man! I gotta tell-

Peter.

Your heartsank as you thought about Peter. You looked down at the table where the half eaten sandwich was laying. There goes your peace offering… Perhaps the new peace offering could be telling him the Spider-Man story? Leaving out the parts where you used him as your own personal Dr. Phil… Your parents were knocking on the door pushing at the chain bolt.

“Sorry! I’m coming.” You said grabbing as much stuff off the living room table as possible and threw it in the garbage. Once the door was opened and your parents tiredly shuffled in with their duffle bags you grabbed a garbage bag and wen back to the living room while they were distracted with getting their usual glass of wine after they came home from different places.

“Home from San Fran so early?” You asked grabbing the half eaten sandwich and throwing it away, a couple pieces of gauze and the cloth you had used because you didn’t no where else to put it. You tied off the bag and grabbed the bowl of water that was still warm against your arm. You dropped the bag by the door and ducked behind your dad dumping out the water in the bowl.

“Oh, it was quite the chain of events.” Your mother muttered sipping her wine. “We get half way there when we find out the deal had fallen through. Probably something Norm said.” She shook her head.

“Hey, it’s not his fault. He’s stressed lately.” Your Dad jumped to Norman Osborn’s defence.

“Oh, Norm can do no wrong in your eyes. Neither could Richard. Including-” Your mother stopped as if realizing you were still here. Your parents didn’t like mentioning Richard Parker when you were around. You always assumed it was because they felt guilty since they knew Peter’s parents better than he could. They did it with Ben too. You remembered how May, Ben and your parents used to get together and have game night when you and Peter were kids that’s originally how you had met him. Your parents couldn’t find a sitter and it turns out neither could Richard and Mary so Peter had come along too. He started to come around a lot after you first met. Your mother later told you it was because he didn’t really have any other kids to play with since Norman Osborn had sent his son, Harry to boarding school when they were only kids so that took away Peter’s only friend. You and Peter only had each other for a long time. You reflected sadly on that one day Peter came to his Aunt and Uncles but that time he was holding a suitcase and was wrapped in his uncles jacket. You remember the night his parents got in the plane crash. Peter was hollow for a couple years after. This was until he started being comfortable with the idea of May and Ben as his guardians and even started to be happy but this year, Uncle Ben was murdered and it had brought back a lot of things for Peter. You suspected he was still in a lot of pain from it but he was choosing to hide it for May’s sake who sometimes, when you were over and she thought she was alone, you could hear her crying quietly to herself.

“I’m sorry guys but I gotta go.” You said

“Go where? It’s passed midnight.”

“To Peter’s I need my science notes off him.” You said and pulled the door open before any more objections could be made. You took the short stair case up onto Peter’s floor and rushed down to his apartment door, almost doing it naturally. You reached it and knocked. May was always up at this hour anyways. Ever since Ben. You waited but there was no answer. You knocked again this time harder.

“May? Peter?” You said you knocked again and waited. You backed away, someone had always answered the door. Always. Your world felt suddenly really small as you were consumed with guilt over how you had treated Peter. Reflecting on your conversation more and more you realized that you had been a complete jealous bitch. And if you were being honest, it was majorly your fault. You’re the one that didn’t propose you guys be exclusive. You had no right to get angry at him for being so blatantly into someone else. He wasn’t the one at fault. Giving up, you turned around and went back to your apartment.

You talked to your parents for a little over half an hour about their trip before finally retiring to your room. You didn’t bother to turn on your light as lightning flashed outside, rain smacking against your windows. You shuffled over to your bed and stripped off into your underwear, you crawled under the covers and felt prickly tears in your eyes as the scent of Peter surrounded you, but this time his warm arms didn’t come with the scent.

You made yourself even more upset the more you thought about where he was. Perhaps he had slept over at Ned’s? They did that sometimes lying to their parents that they had assignments and then staying up all night playing video games. You fought the compulsion to text Ned.  

Or maybe he went to visit Liz.

You cursed yourself, angrily rolling onto your side. Even if he was, you didn’t have a right to be angry. Yes, the two of you were sleeping together and acting like a couple but neither have you had proposed it. The fact was that Peter wasn’t yours to keep out of another girls arms. The thought of Peter holding Liz as she slept at this very moment made you finally cry. Had you ruined it getting angry at him and bailing without an explanation? Pulling out your phone you checked to see if he had replied to your earlier text asking if you could talk. He hadn’t. You locked your phone and tossed it onto your dresser. Of course.

You woke up with a chest full of emotion, a brain heavy with possible scenarios. You had slept in so you couldn’t catch Peter at the train stop so you decided on going to his locker. You marched into the school with purpose. You saw him at Ned’s locker, he was wearing a dark red long sleeved shirt was a dark grey and white plaid collared shirt underneath with black jeans. He looked good. You reflected grumpily. When you reached him you reached out and grabbed his arm with both of your hands and pulled him.

“I need to talk to you. Excuse us, Ned.” You said yanking Peter down the hall until you reached the music room you opened the door and pulled him in closing the door.

“What the hell are you doing, Y/N?” Peter sounded more confused than angry. He was oblivious.

“Where were you last night?” You asked his face went pale and his eyes widened.

“I w-was at h-home. Why?” He asked scratching his neck.

“Oh, you were, were you?” You narrowed your eyes.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say here, Y/N..” He said passing his notebook from hand to hand.

“Were you with her?” You asked

“Her?” Peter asked

“Liz!” You shouted but it came out more like a croak. You had convinced yourself this was it.

“What?” He said his brows coming together “No!”

“Then why didn’t you answer my texts or answer your door when I knocked. Where was May? Where were you?” You started to cry and Peter dropped his notebook on one of the chairs and rushed towards you pulling you into him. You wanted to push away from him. There was still something he was hiding.

“My phone died and I couldn’t find the charger. May’s not home because she took a girl’s trip.” He said stroking your hair soothingly.

“What about you?” You asked

“Me? I w-was with St-Stark.” He said

“Are you lying?” You asked leaning away from him, enough to look into his eyes.

“No. Why would I lie?” He asked

“Can I ask you something?” You asked he pulled you against him again.

“Anything.”

“Do you have the same feelings you have for me, towards Liz?” Peter tensed before he backed away from you.

“God, Y/N, Can you let this go already? It’s a crush. A crush.” He said he was getting angry now, you could see that.

“You can’t blame me for being afraid! She’s the prettiest most popular girl in the school and she’s on your decathlon team and she’s-”

“Not you.” Peter said it would have been a sweet comment if he hadn’t snapped it at you. “I’m with you. Not with Liz. I thought that would have been made pretty clear by now.” He turned around putting his hands through his hair sighing with exasperation.  

“Oh has it? I can’t recall you asking me to be your girlfriend or to be exclusive or grabbing my hand in public.” You said

“You don’t do those things either!” He turned around throwing up his arms. “For all I know you could have not wanting those things.” He said

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked

“Because what if I was right? What if I told you I wanted to be exclusive, what if I told you I wanted to hold your hand and what if you didn’t want that. That would ruin our friendship and that is the last thing I want to happen.” He said

“Oh, Peter…” You stepped forward but he took a step back.

“I told you it was only you. I said I only wanted it to be you. Did those words mean nothing to you?” He asked

“When did you say that?” You asked he looked puzzled for a moment.

“In your defence, I think you were sleeping at the time.” You couldn’t help but smile. Quickly dismissing it trying to maintain the seriousness.

“Those words do mean something to me, Peter. They mean everything to me.” You said he took a step forward and reached out taking your hand in his much larger one, reaching up with the other hand to cup your face, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.

“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” He asked you smiled up at him.

“If you’ll still have me. Yes.” You said

“I’ll still have you.” He smiled back at you, you leaned up and kissed him deeply.

“We should probably tell Ned. He would never forgive us if the rumour mill got to him before we did.” You said Peter nodded he let go of your hand to grab his notebook.

“At lunch.” He said you nodded in agreement.

“Lead the way… Girlfriend.” He said following behind you as you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the huge grin on your face.

“Is this a joke?” Michelle asked from across the table. Ned sat beside her staring at you and Peter who had just told your secret to them. It was a secret anymore. You and Peter were together. A couple. 

“No, MJ. It’s not a joke.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Oh well then good luck to you both.” She shrugged, smiled and snatched the apple off your tray taking a bite and looking back down at her book.

“So… You’re together, together?” Ned asked

“Yes, Ned.” You smiled “A couple.” He was blank for one more moment before grinning like a kid in a candy shop.

“Awesome. My best friend and my other best friend. I’m glad you guys finally got together.” He said sipping his drink.

“Finally?” Peter asked

“It was pretty obvious.” Michelle said “It’s always been there, it just took you guys waaaay to long to see it.” She said not once looking up from her book.

“I don’t know how you notice anything with your nose jammed so far into books. Perhaps it was all an illusion from all the glue in the spine you’ve been huffing.” Peter said both you and Ned laughed as she flipped him off.

“Hugs and kisses to you too, MJ.” Peter muttered looking back at Ned.

“So what time is the Decathlon practice tonight?” He asked lightly drumming his finger tips on the table.

“I don’t know, maybe you should ask, Liz. She’s coming right over here.” Ned said his eyes locked on the moving figure over Peter’s shoulder.

“Hey guys.” Liz greeted, her entourage standing by.

“Hey Liz.” Both Ned and Peter croaked.

“Hey.” Michelle muttered, nose still in her book.

“Hey.” You said lifting a fry to your lips.

“Just a reminder that practice is tonight right after school. Is that okay for you?” She asked

“Fine.” Peter said you rolled your eyes at his smile. He’s just friendly. You kept telling yourself. It’s just a crush, he wouldn’t act on it. He’s with you now. He only wants it to be you, remember. You kept telling yourself.

“I can do after school.” Ned said blushing like crazy as Liz smiled at him.

“Alright,” You nearly snapped at her when she gave Peter’s shoulder a squeeze before turning away. “I’ll see you guys then.” She said over her shoulder.

You officially hated her. You caught Michelle looking up from her book at you, she rolled her eyes. “I know.” She mouthed.

It had been three days since you and Peter came out as a couple, so far so good, except for the fact that you had to leave New York for the day and Michelle texted you saying Liz sat with them at lunch and was getting really flirty with Peter and kept touching his arm and stuff. She had provided no comment on how Peter reacted to the whole thing so you didn’t know how to feel. You went by Peter’s when you got back which was a little before school ended. Aunt May let you in and the two of you talked until she had to head out and do some laundry. You laid on the couch watching tv until you heard Peter’s key slide into place. You shut off the tv and sat up. Peter walked in, you could hear his music playing through his ear buds from here. Highway to Hell by AC/DC. Oh, what an appropriate soundtrack. He almost kept going straight to his room until he froze and backed up. He turned and saw you, his brows came together and he slowly reached up clicked the pause button on his earbuds and slowly pulled them out.

“Y/N? What… What’s up?” He said

“I don’t, is there something up?” You asked he slowly came over and sat on the couch beside you.

“What’s going on?” He asked his hand slipped onto your knee.

“I heard you had quite the lunch hour.” You said. Like that, his shoulders slumped and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he dropped it onto the back of the couch.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I boring you?” You asked crossing your arms across your chest.

“A little, yes.” He said getting up, he walked around the sofa to go into the kitchen, you turned leaning over the back of the couch to keep your eyes on him. “Why do you keep bringing this up?” He questioned going into the fridge and grabbing a can of cola. “It’s never going to get better if you don’t,” He popped the soda open “Let it go.” He said taking a sip.

“I can’t let this go, Peter. How would you feel if you heard that the hottest most popular guy at school sat next to me and was having his hands all over me and flirting with me all lunch hour?” You asked

“Who told you this? Was it Ned?” He asked leaning on the counter. “No, no. I bet it was MJ.” He said

“That doesn’t matter.” You said sharply

“Well, I would like to know who said this, who blew this way out of the gate. Yes, Liz had lunch with us. No, she was not flirting with me and she certainly didn’t have her hands all over me. Okay?” He said taking another drink from his coke. “And as for how I would feel if the situation was reversed?” He set the can down and walked around to sit on the coffee table in front of you. “Well, I would like to think I trust you enough not to act on your crush. Because a crush is completely different than what I feel for you.” He said bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it.

“Yes, I’ll admit. Liz is pretty. But that’s it. We’re polar opposites besides the fact that we are on a mathlete team. I have no history with her and I don’t feel like our personalities would do well together. I think I’m bias since I had already had my other half since I was a kid.” He said you found yourself smiling as he continued to speak. “Liz Allan is nothing but a school yard crush. I have no future with her. You,” He said squeezing both of your hands in his “Are my future.” You felt a tear roll down your cheek as you put both hands on his cheeks pulling your lips together. He leaned into you, his hands slipping onto your thighs.

“I’m so sorry.” You said breathless against his mouth kissing him again.

“Prove it.” He said against your’s your heart skipped a beat as you reached for his belt buckle.

A/N: To those of you who followed me from my other account, thank you, I really appreciate it. If any of you want to be tagged in the future parts, let me know :)

@twenty-two-airplanes​ // @rosaetum​ // @smokeychan1216​ // @littlefrota​ // @stylesbucks18​

[spideys-pack]

Stutterin’ Pete {Pt. 5} -Peter Parker x Reader-

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 

Part 5! 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter’s alter-ego starts to interfere with his relationship with you. Now, neither have you have proposed being exclusive but you couldn’t help feeling jealous and driving yourself crazy over the suspicions that Peter, wherever he was, wasn’t alone. This leads you to blow up on him, leaving him in the dust and very confused. It takes a visit from the Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man to truly open your eyes. Patching things up with Peter was easy, it felt great but duct tape only lasts so long.

You also become increasingly aware that Peter, Ned and Michelle would be going to DC soon for the Decathlon Finals. There was one other person that would be going on this trip.. Liz Allan. A girl Peter has been very open about being into since you were kids. Liz’s interactions with Peter start to become more frequent, your fearful brain suspects she has seduced Peter and he had given into his childhood crush. Despite whatever it was that had been going on between the two of you.

Warnings?: This part is probably going to be long.. There’s talking about injuries, swearing and maybe/definitely some fluff. ;)

“Why don’t you just tell her?” Ned asked fiddling with Peter’s mask. “She would probably understand.” He added. 

“No, no, no.” He said turning his desk chair around to face Ned still holding the small screwdriver in his hand he was been using to tinker with one of his web shooters. “If Y/N knew about this she would be so angry with me. She would worry too much” He said gesturing to the red and blue suit that was laying on the bed next to Ned. 

“I don’t see why you suddenly need Y/N’s approval anyways. It’s not like you guys are together.” 

“We aren’t.” Peter said feeling his heart hammer against his chest feeling as if it was going to thump right out. He turned his back to Ned again trying to hide his blush that he knew was spilling onto his cheeks. “It’s just… You know so I figure it would only be fair if I told her why I’ve been such a flake.” He shrugged his shoulders “But then I realized that just because I’ve known her as long as you and… I trust her, that doesn’t necessarily mean I need to share my secret identity with everyone. You found out by accident so thats almost justified.” 

“And who told you not to tell anyone?” Ned asked. 

“…Mr. Stark.” Peter said 

“Oh… You mean Tony ‘I am Iron Man’ Stark?” He asked Peter paused realizing that Ned had made a good point.

“That doesn’t matter. I don’t have Mr. Stark’s money to have security following me and people I care about. What happens if one of my enemies goes after those closest to me?” He asked 

“What enemies? The fake Avengers from the other night?” 

“Okay fine, future enemies.” Peter grumbled rolling his eyes. 

“Don’t get grumpy with me. It was your idea to tell her and also you that told me it was a bad idea minutes later.” Ned quipped. Peter sighed. 

“You’re right… It’s just… I hate all the lying.” He said 

“I know, man. You’re doing a good thing though. Protecting your family and stuff. Very heroic of you.” He said smirking. 

“Don’t be an idiot, Ned.” Peter said but they both started to laugh. 

“Hey, you.” You smiled into your locker hearing Peter come up behind you. He had waited. You were getting hours at the Library after school, technically only one but you hadn’t expected Peter to wait. You turned to kiss him briefly. 

“I didn’t think you would have waited.” You admitted shoving your books into your backpack. 

“Oh, I did leave.” He assured you. “But I decided to come back for you when the hour was up. How was it?” He asked leaning back on the lockers beside yours. You shrugged. 

“Alright. I mean it was no great task.” You said zipping up your bag. “Speaking of those, did you see the News actually did a story on that Spider-Man guy?” You said Peter coughed. 

“O-oh, no. I haven’t se-seen that.” He said as you closed your locker. 

“He’s pretty cool isn’t he?” You asked slinging your backpack onto your shoulders. He shrugged his own broad shoulders. 

“I g-guess so.” He said as you started towards the exit. 

“I hear Liz Allan has a crush on him.” You said

“She does?” He asked, you internally rolled your eyes at him. Of course, you bring up Liz Allan and his interest in peaked. A little too much, you thought jealously. 

“Yeah,” You added your voice clipped. “That tells you how above high school boys she thinks she is.” You didn’t want to look at him, you felt like you were going to lose your temper even more. 

“Maybe Spider-Man goes to high school.” Peter said nonchalantly. You stopped and fake-checked your phone. 

“I don’t think I can hang out tonight, Pete.” You said 

“Why?” He asked seemingly clueless to the fact that you were blowing him off. 

“My mom wants me to do something.” You lied you couldn’t leave him like this, as much as you wanted to. You put on your best smile tough due to how hurt you were feeling. “Thanks for coming back for me though.” You said he nodded and stepped towards you for what you assumed would be a goodbye kiss or hug. You couldn’t  touch him right now. You didn’t want him to touch you. So you backed away more waving. 

“Bye!” You said and rushed off before he could stop you. 

It was dark by the time you headed home. You knew it wouldn’t really be that big of a deal since your parents were gone again. Oscorp business is San Fran or whatever. You hated walking by yourself so you kept your head down and moved as fast as you could without running. You nearly made it back to your apartment doorstep when you heard clatter from the alleyway behind. It sounded like a trash can being knocked over.

Like a stereotypical hero film character, you decided to go have a look. You shrieked when you turned the corner and saw none other than the Spider-Man that had been all over social media and youtube. 

“Sp-Spider-Man?” You stuttered he was laying on his stomach struggling to prop himself up on one elbow. He had his other arm wrapped around his torso. He looked up at you, the lenses in his mask widened, you had to hold back a laugh at how expressive his mask was. You put down your bag of take out and rushed over. You heard him whisper something, more to himself before he groaned, you could tell even his voice was definitely disguised by his mask as well. Pretty techy.. You thought to yourself. 

“What are you doing down here?” You asked 

“I had to come to this alley. T-To hide.” He said you looked at his other arm, the one that was holding his torso. 

“Are you injured?” You asked he nodded. 

“I think I was stabbed.” 

“Oh no.” You said “I’ll call you an ambulance.” You went for your phone but Spider-Man reached out with lightning fast reflexes and snatched your wrist with surprising strength, despite how buff he looked under that spandex. 

“No. No hospital.” He said 

“Well, I can’t just leave you here! If you’ve been stabbed,” You shook your head trying to comprehend the new problem you were facing. Peter momentarily out of your thoughts you gave up all sense of reason.

“Can you stand?” You asked “My apartment is right there, I’ll take you in and up the elevator.” You said 

“I think I can walk but you don’t need to do this.” He said 

“No, I don’t. But I would like to. So, do you want my help?” You asked he hesitated for one moment before sticking out his gloved hand. You took it and with a lot of effort on both of your ends, you got him to his feet. Pulling his arm around your shoulders, you dropped an arm to his waist to help him stand. Something about him was familiar but you shook it off as how much you’ve seen him online. 

“Can you grab that?” You asked as you passed your take out bag. 

“Georgio’s?” He asked almost as if offended at your choice in sandwich shops.

“Well, it’s not my first choice. The place me and my best friend go to kind of got blown up in that bank robbery you stopped the other night.” You said 

“Sorry, about that.” He said 

“Well, I would be a little less inclined to help you if Mr. Delmar or his cat Murph had died. Mind you but I heard you saved them too. So, no apology needed.” You said you pushed the outer glass door open with your foot but had to lean Spider-Man against the wall to unlock the inner door with your key before getting him to lean on you again. It didn’t take you long to get him down to the hall and at the elevators you reached over and jabbed the button for your floor. 

Mrs. Wembley was out in the hall was you exited the elevator so you tried to act as casual as possible. 

“We’re just getting back from a convention.” You said “My friend here had a little too much to drink.” You said rolling your eyes. 

“You kids should drink more responsibly.” She said and pushed her apartment door open. 

“And you should mind your own business.” You muttered blushing when you heard Spider-Man chuckle at a comment he wasn’t supposed to hear. Shoving your key into its place and turning it pushing the door open. You brought Spider-Man over to the couch, pulling a sheet over it before guiding him down. 

“Wait here.” You said you rushed over to the kitchen shutting the door and flicking to bolt across but also throwing the chain across too, just in case your parents decided to show up out of the blue again like they did the last time Peter was over. Your heart felt heavy as you thought of him. You had realized you were over reacting and had been finding out what to say to him when you got home. You had bought sandwiches to break the ice for your apology. That looked like it was going to have to be put on hold considering the superhero on your couch. Taking out your phone you texted the next person you thought of. Ned. 

You: Ned!!! I’m freaking out. You won’t believe what happened to me!!!

You pocketed your phone, grabbed a tray, filled it with hot water, grabbed a towel and the First Aid Kit your parents left underneath the sink, a candy bar and some orange juice. You piled the things on the tray then came back. Setting the tray on the table, you looked back at Spider-Man who was watching you. Or at least you thought so, his eyes were quite expressive so you just assumed. 

“I brought some things to help, I don’t really know how to deal with stab wounds but, I can clean it and try to make sure it doesn’t get infected or something.” You said feeling your phone vibrate in your butt pocket. 

“That’s great.” He said 

“Oh, the orange juice and candy bar are for you.. Blood sugar and stuff. Just in case you have lost a lot of it, I thought it would be good to have.” You realized you were babbling and quickly turned away acting like you were busy with the First Aid Kit, you pulled out your phone reading Ned’s text. 

Ned: What?! Is everything alright??? 

You: Everything is okay with me but for the SUPERHERO ON MY COUCH not so good. YEAH SPIDER-MAN IS ON MY COUCH, HE’S INJURED WTF DO I DO????

You sent the text and looked back at Spider-Man who was eyeing the take-out back with sandwiches in it. 

“You can have one of those.” You said pulling out things you thought you might need. 

“Are you expecting company?” He asked 

“No… You’re safe here, Why?” You asked 

“You said one of those. Or do you just eat two sandwiches?” He asked 

“Oh, no.” You waved him off. “One of those is for that best friend I was telling you about earlier. I was going to go to his apartment to apologize for something stupid I did earlier today.” You said 

“What did you do?” He asked reaching for the sandwich bag. 

“I got all jealous. You see- Nevermind you probably don’t care about this. I’ll bore you into throwing yourself out that window.” You pointed to the far window he chuckled. 

“No, I promise. If you’re going to patch me up and feed me, we might as well share some secrets.” The eyes on his masks narrowed in mock suspicion when you said secrets, it was an appearance enough to get a giggle out of you. 

“Okay, well, My best friend has had this crush on this girl since we were kids. Her name is Liz… Um, she’s a senior. We’re Freshmen.” You said rolling your eyes. “I would love to inform you that she’s a complete snob and completely unbearable but they would be lies. The problem is I actually like the girl.” You grumbled. 

“Why is that a problem?” He asked “Do you mind if I have the one with the pickles?” He added 

“Go head.” You said “It’s because I like him. I have for as long as I can remember. I mean since we were just little tikes. Our parents knew each other and our moms were pregnant at the same time so we spent practically every day together since the womb. It sounds weird and cliche but Peter-” You broke off “That’s his name.” You said Spider-Man nodded and held the sandwich ready to bite until he seemed to remember he was wearing a mask. Glancing towards you, he pulled it up to just above his nose. Part of you wanted to search for any simulates to see if you could place him but you didn’t bother. You didn’t have the kind of luck to know someone who was a superhero. Your phone vibrated again. 

Ned: TREAT HIM DUMBY! HE FIGHTS CRIME FOR US. But don’t lift up his mask, that’s like rescuing a hero code. It’s totally uncool to do that. And maybe he’s the “I’d tell you but then I’d have to kill you type of superheroes??? Tell me everything later! Go be a Doctor!!!

Rolling your eyes at Ned’s text before putting your phone on the table. 

“So,” You began again. “It probably does seem like a cliche for me to be into my best friend or whatever but recently, I thought it was mutual.” You said deciding telling Spider-Man about your sex life was just too weird. You crawled on your knees towards him with the bowl of hot water and cloth. “Would you mind lifting that or something?” You asked gesturing to the upper portion of his suit. He put the sandwich down, reaching up he tapped the spider on his chest and the suit seemed to grow ten sizes, he easily slipped out of the top half, keeping his mask tightly secured on his face. You gently pushed him back towards the back of the couch you climbed on beside him and started to wipe at his knife slash. 

“It’s not a stab. It’s more of a slash. You won’t need stitches or anything. Just a bandage and you’ll be golden in a few days.” You said 

“Cool.” There was silence apart from the occasional hiss from Spider-Man as you touched certain sensitive parts of the wound. “So, keep my mind off of all this…” He gestured to the cotton balls and rubbing alcohol you just picked up. 

“Tell me more about… You and Peter.” He said 

“Well, that’s the problem.” You said “There isn’t a me and Peter. Officially. I can’t look at a girl who is looking at him and tell her he’s mine or tell people he’s my boyfriend… Even just to hold his hand.” You thought sadly “Just to hold his hand in the hallway at school or on the street. I’ve dreamed about it for years. Just to show everyone around that I found my… Han Solo.” You smiled to yourself sticking a cotton ball to the mouth of the bottle and tipping it upside down to wet it. 

“Well,” He said but seemed to be stuck. “If you want this Peter guy to be your boyfriend.. Why don’t you tell him? Maybe he feels the same way? Why don’t you make your move?” He asked flinching as you dabbed the slit of his wound with the alcohol cotton ball. 

“Well, because Han shot first.” You said with a smirk you were rewarded with seeing the beginning of a smile on his face as he pulled the mask back down. “No, I guess it’s just because… Since we’ve kissed and since we…” You stopped “Well, we’ve been sort of couple-ish but neither of us have brought it up. I think it’s just because we’re both afraid of pushing it. I mean what we have is great. I love it but it’s the fact that I can’t tell other people. I mean, I want to be able to tell Liz and other girls to back off but, I don’t have the right too, you know?” You said 

“I understand…” He said as you reached for a tube of polysporin from the First Aid Kit. You grabbed a q-tip and turned back. You realized that his voice hadn’t been disguised earlier but you hadn’t picked up on it, no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t remember what it had sounded like “But.. You’re a guy… How would you feel about this sort of situation?” You asked 

“I don’t know how other guys would react but if I was Peter.. I would hold your hand in the hallway.” He said you blushed turning away to grab a gauze pad. You rubbed the polysporin on with the q-tip then placed the gauze pad down. You placed a bit of sticky guaze over top of that and leaned back admiring your work. 

“I think you’ll make it, Spider-Man.” You said He nodded to you. 

“Thank you, citizen.” He said you laughed. 

“Are you strong enough to go home to wherever you live?” You asked 

“Would you mind if I just sat here for a little bit? I’m still reeling from the fight.” He said 

“Of course.” You said you grabbed a pillow from the other end of the couch fluffing it up before putting it beside him. “You can lay down. Want a blanket or something?” You asked 

“No, I’m-” you jumped as he stopped talking. He looked towards the door. 

“What?” You asked 

“I have to go.” He said getting up 

“What? No, you should rest.” 

“I’ll be fine.” He said looking towards the door again with a slight flinch. 

“Oh um, okay. That window opens.” You pointed to one of the living room windows. 

“Great, thanks.” He rushed over to the window sliding it up just as you heard the key slide into place on the other side of the door. “Thank you for everything.” He said before dropping out of the window. You ran over to see if he had stuck the landing or not but he was gone. There was no sign of the red and blue suit anywhere. 

Holy shit. I just met Spider-Man! I gotta tell- 

Peter. 

Your heartsank as you thought about Peter. You looked down at the table where the half eaten sandwich was laying. There goes your peace offering… Perhaps the new peace offering could be telling him the Spider-Man story? Leaving out the parts where you used him as your own personal Dr. Phil… Your parents were knocking on the door pushing at the chain bolt. 

“Sorry! I’m coming.” You said grabbing as much stuff off the living room table as possible and threw it in the garbage. Once the door was opened and your parents tiredly shuffled in with their duffle bags you grabbed a garbage bag and wen back to the living room while they were distracted with getting their usual glass of wine after they came home from different places.

“Home from San Fran so early?” You asked grabbing the half eaten sandwich and throwing it away, a couple pieces of gauze and the cloth you had used because you didn’t no where else to put it. You tied off the bag and grabbed the bowl of water that was still warm against your arm. You dropped the bag by the door and ducked behind your dad dumping out the water in the bowl. 

“Oh, it was quite the chain of events.” Your mother muttered sipping her wine. “We get half way there when we find out the deal had fallen through. Probably something Norm said.” She shook her head. 

“Hey, it’s not his fault. He’s stressed lately.” Your Dad jumped to Norman Osborn’s defence. 

“Oh, Norm can do no wrong in your eyes. Neither could Richard. Including-” Your mother stopped as if realizing you were still here. Your parents didn’t like mentioning Richard Parker when you were around. You always assumed it was because they felt guilty since they knew Peter’s parents better than he could. They did it with Ben too. You remembered how May, Ben and your parents used to get together and have game night when you and Peter were kids that’s originally how you had met him. Your parents couldn’t find a sitter and it turns out neither could Richard and Mary so Peter had come along too. He started to come around a lot after you first met. Your mother later told you it was because he didn’t really have any other kids to play with since Norman Osborn had sent his son, Harry to boarding school when they were only kids so that took away Peter’s only friend. You and Peter only had each other for a long time. You reflected sadly on that one day Peter came to his Aunt and Uncles but that time he was holding a suitcase and was wrapped in his uncles jacket. You remember the night his parents got in the plane crash. Peter was hollow for a couple years after. This was until he started being comfortable with the idea of May and Ben as his guardians and even started to be happy but this year, Uncle Ben was murdered and it had brought back a lot of things for Peter. You suspected he was still in a lot of pain from it but he was choosing to hide it for May’s sake who sometimes, when you were over and she thought she was alone, you could hear her crying quietly to herself. 

“I’m sorry guys but I gotta go.” You said 

“Go where? It’s passed midnight.” 

“To Peter’s I need my science notes off him.” You said and pulled the door open before any more objections could be made. You took the short stair case up onto Peter’s floor and rushed down to his apartment door, almost doing it naturally. You reached it and knocked. May was always up at this hour anyways. Ever since Ben. You waited but there was no answer. You knocked again this time harder. 

“May? Peter?” You said you knocked again and waited. You backed away, someone had always answered the door. Always. Your world felt suddenly really small as you were consumed with guilt over how you had treated Peter. Reflecting on your conversation more and more you realized that you had been a complete jealous bitch. And if you were being honest, it was majorly your fault. You’re the one that didn’t propose you guys be exclusive. You had no right to get angry at him for being so blatantly into someone else. He wasn’t the one at fault. Giving up, you turned around and went back to your apartment. 

You talked to your parents for a little over half an hour about their trip before finally retiring to your room. You didn’t bother to turn on your light as lightning flashed outside, rain smacking against your windows. You shuffled over to your bed and stripped off into your underwear, you crawled under the covers and felt prickly tears in your eyes as the scent of Peter surrounded you, but this time his warm arms didn’t come with the scent. 

You made yourself even more upset the more you thought about where he was. Perhaps he had slept over at Ned’s? They did that sometimes lying to their parents that they had assignments and then staying up all night playing video games. You fought the compulsion to text Ned.  

Or maybe he went to visit Liz. 

You cursed yourself, angrily rolling onto your side. Even if he was, you didn’t have a right to be angry. Yes, the two of you were sleeping together and acting like a couple but neither have you had proposed it. The fact was that Peter wasn’t yours to keep out of another girls arms. The thought of Peter holding Liz as she slept at this very moment made you finally cry. Had you ruined it getting angry at him and bailing without an explanation? Pulling out your phone you checked to see if he had replied to your earlier text asking if you could talk. He hadn’t. You locked your phone and tossed it onto your dresser. Of course. 

You woke up with a chest full of emotion, a brain heavy with possible scenarios. You had slept in so you couldn’t catch Peter at the train stop so you decided on going to his locker. You marched into the school with purpose. You saw him at Ned’s locker, he was wearing a dark red long sleeved shirt was a dark grey and white plaid collared shirt underneath with black jeans. He looked good. You reflected grumpily. When you reached him you reached out and grabbed his arm with both of your hands and pulled him. 

“I need to talk to you. Excuse us, Ned.” You said yanking Peter down the hall until you reached the music room you opened the door and pulled him in closing the door. 

“What the hell are you doing, Y/N?” Peter sounded more confused than angry. He was oblivious. 

“Where were you last night?” You asked his face went pale and his eyes widened. 

“I w-was at h-home. Why?” He asked scratching his neck. 

“Oh, you were, were you?” You narrowed your eyes. 

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say here, Y/N..” He said passing his notebook from hand to hand. 

“Were you with her?” You asked 

“Her?” Peter asked 

“Liz!” You shouted but it came out more like a croak. You had convinced yourself this was it. 

“What?” He said his brows coming together “No!” 

“Then why didn’t you answer my texts or answer your door when I knocked. Where was May? Where were you?” You started to cry and Peter dropped his notebook on one of the chairs and rushed towards you pulling you into him. You wanted to push away from him. There was still something he was hiding.

“My phone died and I couldn’t find the charger. May’s not home because she took a girl’s trip.” He said stroking your hair soothingly. 

“What about you?” You asked 

“Me? I w-was with St-Stark.” He said 

“Are you lying?” You asked leaning away from him, enough to look into his eyes. 

“No. Why would I lie?” He asked 

“Can I ask you something?” You asked he pulled you against him again. 

“Anything.” 

“Do you have the same feelings you have for me, towards Liz?” Peter tensed before he backed away from you. 

“God, Y/N, Can you let this go already? It’s a crush. A crush.” He said he was getting angry now, you could see that. 

“You can’t blame me for being afraid! She’s the prettiest most popular girl in the school and she’s on your decathlon team and she’s-” 

“Not you.” Peter said it would have been a sweet comment if he hadn’t snapped it at you. “I’m with you. Not with Liz. I thought that would have been made pretty clear by now.” He turned around putting his hands through his hair sighing with exasperation.  

“Oh has it? I can’t recall you asking me to be your girlfriend or to be exclusive or grabbing my hand in public.” You said 

“You don’t do those things either!” He turned around throwing up his arms. “For all I know you could have not wanting those things.” He said 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked 

“Because what if I was right? What if I told you I wanted to be exclusive, what if I told you I wanted to hold your hand and what if you didn’t want that. That would ruin our friendship and that is the last thing I want to happen.” He said 

“Oh, Peter…” You stepped forward but he took a step back. 

“I told you it was only you. I said I only wanted it to be you. Did those words mean nothing to you?” He asked 

“When did you say that?” You asked he looked puzzled for a moment. 

“In your defence, I think you were sleeping at the time.” You couldn’t help but smile. Quickly dismissing it trying to maintain the seriousness. 

“Those words do mean something to me, Peter. They mean everything to me.” You said he took a step forward and reached out taking your hand in his much larger one, reaching up with the other hand to cup your face, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. 

“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” He asked you smiled up at him. 

“If you’ll still have me. Yes.” You said 

“I’ll still have you.” He smiled back at you, you leaned up and kissed him deeply. 

“We should probably tell Ned. He would never forgive us if the rumour mill got to him before we did.” You said Peter nodded he let go of your hand to grab his notebook. 

“At lunch.” He said you nodded in agreement. 

“Lead the way… Girlfriend.” He said following behind you as you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the huge grin on your face. 

“Is this a joke?” Michelle asked from across the table. Ned sat beside her staring at you and Peter who had just told your secret to them. It was a secret anymore. You and Peter were together. A couple. 

“No, MJ. It’s not a joke.” Peter rolled his eye

“Oh well then good luck to you both.” She shrugged, smiled and snatched the apple off your tray taking a bite and looking back down at her book. 

“So… You’re together, together?” Ned asked 

“Yes, Ned.” You smiled “A couple.” He was blank for one more moment before grinning like a kid in a candy shop. 

“Awesome. My best friend and my other best friend. I’m glad you guys finally got together.” He said sipping his drink. 

“Finally?” Peter asked 

“It was pretty obvious.” Michelle said “It’s always been there, it just took you guys waaaay to long to see it.” She said not once looking up from her book. 

“I don’t know how you notice anything with your nose jammed so far into books. Perhaps it was all an illusion from all the glue in the spine you’ve been huffing.” Peter said both you and Ned laughed as she flipped him off. 

“Hugs and kisses to you too, MJ.” Peter muttered looking back at Ned. 

“So what time is the Decathlon practice tonight?” He asked lightly drumming his finger tips on the table. 

“I don’t know, maybe you should ask, Liz. She’s coming right over here.” Ned said his eyes locked on the moving figure over Peter’s shoulder. 

“Hey guys.” Liz greeted her entourage standing by. 

“Hey Liz.” Both Ned and Peter croaked. 

“Hey.” Michelle muttered, nose still in her book. 

“Hey.” You said lifting a fry to your lips. 

“Just a reminder that practice is tonight right after school. Is that okay for you?” She asked 

“Fine.” Peter said you rolled your eyes at his smile. He’s just friendly. You kept telling yourself. It’s just a crush, he wouldn’t act on it. He’s with you now. He only wants it to be you, remember. You kept telling yourself. 

“I can do after school.” Ned said blushing like crazy as Liz smiled at him. 

“Alright,” You nearly snapped at her when she gave Peter’s shoulder a squeeze before turning away. “I’ll see you guys then.” She said over her shoulder.

You officially hated her. You caught Michelle looking up from her book at you, she rolled her eyes. “I know.” She mouthed. 

It had been three days since you and Peter came out as a couple, so far so good, except for the fact that you had to leave New York for the day and Michelle texted you saying Liz sat with them at lunch and was getting really flirty with Peter and kept touching his arm and stuff. She had provided no comment on how Peter reacted to the whole thing so you didn’t know how to feel. You went by Peter’s when you got back which was a little before school ended. Aunt May let you in and the two of you talked until she had to head out and do some laundry. You laid on the couch watching tv until you heard Peter’s key slide into place. You shut off the tv and sat up. Peter walked in, you could hear his music playing through his ear buds from here. Highway to Hell by AC/DC. Oh, what an appropriate soundtrack. He almost kept going straight to his room until he froze and backed up. He turned and saw you, his brows came together and he slowly reached up click the pause button on his earbuds and slowly pulling them out. 

“Y/N? What… What’s up?” He said 

“I don’t, is there something up?” You asked he slowly came over and sat on the couch beside you. 

“What’s going on?” He asked his hand slipped onto your knee. 

“I heard you had quite the lunch hour.” You said. Like that, his shoulders slumped and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he dropped it onto the back of the couch. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I boring you?” You asked crossing your arms across your chest. 

“A little, yes.” He said getting up, he walked around the sofa to go into the kitchen, you turned leaning over the back of the couch to keep your eyes on him. “Why do you keep bringing this up?” He questioned going into the fridge and grabbing a can of cola. “It’s never going to get better if you don’t,” He popped the soda open “Let it go.” He said taking a sip. 

“I can’t let this go, Peter. How would you feel if you heard that the hottest most popular guy at school sat next to me and was having his hands all over me and flirting with me all lunch hour?” You asked 

“Who told you this? Was it Ned?” He asked leaning on the counter. “No, no. I bet it was MJ.” He said 

“That doesn’t matter.” You said sharply 

“Well, I would like to know who said this, who blew this way out of the gate. Yes, Liz had lunch with us. No, she was not flirting with me and she certainly didn’t have her hands all over me. Okay?” He said taking another drink from his coke. “And as for how I would feel if the situation was reversed?” He set the can down and walked around to sit on the coffee table in front of you. “Well, I would like to think I trust you enough not to act on your crush. Because a crush is completely different than what I feel for you.” He said bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it. 

“Yes, I’ll admit. Liz is pretty. But that’s it. We’re polar opposites besides the fact that we are on a mathlete team. I have no history with her and I don’t feel like our personalities would do well together. I think I’m bias since I had already had my other half since I was a kid.” He said you found yourself smiling as he continued to speak. “Liz Allan is nothing but a school yard crush. I have no future with her. You,” He said squeezing both of your hands in his “Are my future.” You felt a tear roll down your cheek as you put both hands on his cheeks pulling your lips together. He leaned into you, his hands slipping onto your thighs. 

“I’m so sorry.” You said breathless against his mouth kissing him again. 

“Prove it.” He said against your’s your heart skipped a beat as you reached for his belt buckle. 

A/N: HOLY SHIT THIS WAS LONG Anyways, thanks to everyone for reading, liking and commenting and stuff. It really means a lot to her what people think. 

Just keep letting me know if you want me to keep going or if you want to be tagged. Message me whenever too, I’ll try my best to reply. ALSO Follow my new account, that’s where I’ll be moving all of my stuff after I delete this blog. It's called: @tom-spldey

@twenty-two-airplanes / @rosaetum / @smokeychan1216 

Let me know if you want to be tagged too :) 

[writingtopasstime]

In The Dead Of Night

Overview: Y/n works on Supernatural and one night everything just gets too much. 

Song Inspiration: Broken by Seether Ft. Amy Lee

Trigger Warning: Self-Harm, Depression, Anxiety, Anxiety/Panic Attacks, Suicide

Word Count: 1,937 Words

Note: I’ve just been having a hard time so I wrote this. 

PLEASE get help if you are struggling! At the very least talk to someone. https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/ Always Keep Fighting <3

Everyone thought she had it easy. Working on a famous TV Show is the best thing ever. You're so lucky. Their words weren't always true. Y/n knew how amazing it was to land a job like she had. To live out her dreams but sometimes she didn't feel that way. Most nights she could hardly sleep. Now it was starting to carry over into the day. A dreading feeling. An unexplainable pit that would open up inside her. Y/n had been dealing with it all her life. It was so bad in school that she almost got kicked out for missing so many days. There was something that shut her body down. She had managed it for years by releasing her dread onto her skin. Then when she landed her Supernatural job as a fellow hunter to Jared and Jensen's brotherhood she decided to pull herself back together. And thankfully it worked until now. It had been a little over a year since she took a blade to her skin but there she was. She was desperate to rid the demons in her head. It worked her into a frenzy until she was gasping for air itching her a release.

Y/n groaned as the sleeve of her shirt scratched into her cuts. It was a stupid thing to do but at the time it felt right. She hated to admit but she missed the stinging feeling. It helped ground her in the moment and let her focus on something other than her intrusive thoughts. Luckily she didn't have anything to film for a while. But today was a convention day. She had to meet Jared, Jensen, and Misha in the lobby of the hotel. Glancing at the clock she was already ten minutes late. Taking a deep breath she slid her sunglasses on and head out. Surprisingly she was the last to make it downstairs.

"There you are we were about to send Jared up there. What's up? You’re normally the first one down here?" Jensen inquired.

"I'm exhausted. I couldn't sleep at all last night." She hoped that the excuse would hold up. Technically it wasn't a lie. She was up all night.

"Well luckily for you Rob stopped to get coffee for us since we're running late so let's go." Jensen moved ahead Jared close behind but Misha walked beside Y/n. He leaned into her.

"What's really going on you hungover?" Misha joked. Y/n shook her head.

"I'm completely sober. I haven’t even had a drink in like two weeks." Misha gave her a look like a parent would. “Really Misha I’m okay.” The lie rolled so easily off her tongue. She bit her lip as she pushed on following her costars. She could-should just tell them the truth. Jared shared all his troubles and now he was getting help but there was that nagging part of her brain that always pushed logic away. The part of her brain that told her she was a burden. That insisted she keep everything in. They all had families they were waiting for them to go home to and if she told them what she was going through she knew that they would drop it for her. They would stick around and she couldn’t take that away from her friends. So instead she buried it and hoped it stayed down until she was alone again.

The convention was in full swing. Jared, Jensen and Y/n were doing their collective panel. Y/n with some coffee in her and with the laughter of the fans was beginning to feel better. The intrusive thoughts were in the background. It looked like it was going to be a better day. Jensen pointed to the right for the next question. The next girl was already crying when she took hold of the microphone. Y/n lifted her own microphone to her lips. “Hey, it’s alright. Take a breath,” she demonstrated. “We’re all family here.” The girl took a deep breath but her voice still shook when she spoke.

“I don’t have a question actually I just wanted to say thank you for saving my sister's life.” She started to cry again. Y/n’s heart clenched in her chest. It was always hard listening to stories about suicide or self-harm but it was especially close to her heart today. Jared got up and made his way over to the young woman. He held her as she continued speaking. “She tried to kill herself and while she was recovering in the hospital I showed her Supernatural and now she’s healthy and happy.” The crowd erupted in applause. Jared pulled her closer. When he pulled back she added onto her story. “Y/n I just wanted to say that you are her inspiration to get better and stay strong and I can’t thank you enough.” The tears started to build in Y/n's eyes. She couldn't help the feeling that closed her throat. She immense guilt that washed over her. There was someone who looked up for strength and she was falling apart. I'm a fraud. A liar. She focused her eyes on the laces of her boots. She felt a nudge from her left. Her eyes slid up to Jensen's face. Just seeing the worried look that crossed over him pushed her over the edge. Quickly without looking back at the audience mumbled sorry excuse me before slipping behind the curtain.

"Y/n," Richard said. There was the small group of her costars who were standing in front of her. All were worried and albeit a bit confused. Y/n shook her head a sob breaking out. The group quickly surrounded her.

"You gonna be okay?" Misha asked. Y/n wiped at her face. She opened her mouth but she was cut off.

"Hey, you alright?" Jared came back followed by Jensen. Y/n took a shaky breath.

"I-I've just been drained lately but I don't want to keep the fans waiting. Let's talk about this later okay." She looked around at her makeshift family. A small glimmer of a smile appeared on her face. "I'll be okay. Her story just hit me hard." Jared pulled Y/n into a giant huge.

"We're here for you." He pulled her along as they went back on stage. Cheers erupted. They settled back in with Jared and Jensen closer than before.

"I'm sorry. That just hit me hard. I know what you're going through." Jensen patted her thigh. Y/n pushed away the rest of her tears. "Let's just move onto the next question hopefully a happy one?" She gave a short laugh but the dread was there like an evil shadow hovering over her.

Y/n feigned being too tired to go out to dinner and drinks with the cast. She just needed her time alone. It had been a draining week and she just wanted to curl under her covers. And she did just that when she got into her hotel room. She didn’t bother to take off her clothing as she buried herself under the comforter. She turned on the TV but more so for background noise. Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Moose: Hope you’re doing well. Get some rest. Check on you later.

Y/n smiled at his words. She quickly replied with a kissing face emoji. She was gonna close her eyes but then she saw an excess amount of notifications on social media. Her twitter was blowing up. She opened the app. Everyone was talking about her walking out of the convention. Some good things but her mind wanted to highlight the bad ones. Y/n took a shaky breath. She dropped her phone onto the nightstand with a sigh. So much to sleeping.

Jared couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was happening. The way Y/n was acting reminded him of how he was and it terrified him. So instead of staying out to drink after dinner, he went straight back to the hotel.

“What’s the hurry?“ Jensen asked. He decided to call it a night as well not wanting to leave his best friend alone to figure things out.

“I just need to make sure she’s doing okay,“ Jared replied. "I have a bad feeling. I think Y/n is lying to us. I don’t think she’s alright. I think she’s- I don’t know but I think things are bad.” Jared sighed shaking his head. He unlocked his phone staring at the unanswered messages he sent her at dinner. 

“Don’t work yourself up. We’ll figure this out.” Jensen clapped his friend on the should as they pulled up the hotel. The walk up to the room was quiet. Jensen knocked first. No answer. Jared knocked. Still no answer. “She’s probably just sleeping.“ Jensen tried to rationalize. Jared shook his head. 

“I don’t like this.“ Then the door creaked open. Y/n peeked her head out. Her eyes were red and puffy. She had been crying. Jared stepped forward pushing the door open and embracing her in a hug. Y/n started to sob into his chest. Jensen stepped into the room shutting the door behind them. “Hey, shhh it’s alright.“ Jensen moved forward and joined the hug. 

“Whatever is going on we’re here for you.“ She pulled away from the two men sniffling. 

“I’m sorry.“ Jared was going to question what she was talking about but his eyes caught her shirt sleeve. A crimson red color stained the fabric. Jared’s eyes watered at the sight. Y/n wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m so sorry.“ Jared wanted to say something comforting but his voice was stuck in his throat. Tears flowed from his eyes. “It’s too late,” she said her voice cracked. 

“What are you talking about? What did you do?“ Jensen asked panicked. She pulled up her sleeves to reveal the fresh wounds. Jared glanced away, the tears freely flowing. Jensen didn’t have words. He stared in shock. Then his instincts kicked he snatched a hand towel from the bathroom wetting it in the sink before he was back in the room. Jared moved forward gently pulling Y/n onto the edge of the bed. Jensen took her arm gently really getting a look at the damage. Her whole arm was covered. Jensen gave her a sad look before dabbing at the wounds with the towel. She winced. The silence was heavy. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jensen asked quietly. Jared placed his arm on her back. 

“I’ve been having a lot of trouble lately with my anxiety and depression. I just cracked. I haven’t- this hasn’t happened for a while. I’m sorry.“

“Don’t. Stop apologizing.“ Jared barked. He took a deep breath calming his emotions. “Look I get it but why not come to us?“

“I feel like a burden. No matter how many times someone tells me I’m not I still feel like one so I bottled it up.” Jensen finished cleaning dropping the stained towel onto the floor beside where he kneeled before his friends. Y/n stared down at her lap. Jensen’s hands lifted her chin. 

“I don’t care how many times it will take for you to learn this but you are not a burden and I don’t care how long it takes we are gonna make you feel better.“ Y/n closed her eyes tears falling. She leaned into Jensen’s touch reveling in the comfort of someone else. Her heart swelled at the thought. She never had the support system that the Supernatural family gave her. She knew that they would keep their promise. She knew they would be there for her like they were with Jared. Through all the best and worst moments. They were her guardian angels.

[arazialotis]

Pinch Of Nutmeg - Part 3

Pairing: Jensen × Reader

Word Count: 2300

Summary: The reader is a young and upcoming chef who takes up an opportunity in Vancouver where she by chance befriends Jensen.  After several years apart and seeing each other at a convention, (Part One WC:6500) the reader and Jensen try and decide how they should move forward but each go their separate ways. (Part Two) Now, six months after Chicago, Jensen seeks out the reader to see if any feelings remain.

Obviously I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time.

Again, this is purely for a hobby and my enjoyment. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I am by no means a writer so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors.

---

Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye for you. You thought about Jensen often, but avoiding the celebrity gossip sites and twitter helped. You searched through new job opportunities and regardless of Scott's continuous offers, something kept you in your hodunk town. Technically, it wasn't as small as Scott made it out to be. Some parts felt big city but you easily could drive to country living. It was small enough to know every corner but big enough to get lost in a sea of faces.

Whether out of spite or playful fun, you decided on adding a cheese fondue appetizer to the winter’s seasonal menu. One that if you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine being in the Swiss Alps.

At home on late nights, you would look up far off destinations. You’d narrowed it down to Iceland or Peru. Both vastly different from each other but both far enough away from here. You had plans lined up for either one. Probably at least a three month stay. Your passport was still active from when you lived in Vancouver. God, you missed that place. That little one bedroom apartment that costed twice if not triple as much as your two bedroom did now. And the meals you would make with such little counter space and crappy appliances. There were also the nights when you and Jay would just order a pizza. You’d set a sheet down in the middle of the living room floor making almost an indoor picnic and talk with him into the late hours of the night.

You slammed your laptop shut, trying to jerk yourself from the memory. You looked at your clock and figured you might as well go to bed. Your cat followed you and once you were settled, he nested down by your legs. What you saw as affection others may think of it as a commensalism relationship. But he meant the world to you. You petted his head gently before you drifted off.

---

Things seemed pretty slow in the kitchen today. You used the extra time to balance spreadsheets and planned an ingredient list for items you would need next week. You popped your head out occasionally to check on staff and help on orders. You had returned all of Scott’s items to him, aside from the cubs cap. You used it as your chef hat instead of the traditional ‘toque blanche’. You still kept one around though incase any high rollers rolled into town.

You were cleaning up a plate’s presentation when a server barged into the kitchen clearly upset with a fondue order in his hand.

“Cody, what’s wrong?” You asked puzzled.

“Some jackass is getting all upset about his order.” He fumed. “He said he needed to send this back and talk to the chef immediately.”

“Did he tell you the issue?” You asked calmly.

“He said he requested freshly grated nutmeg on top of the fondue,” Cody rolled his eyes.

Your heart stopped and you couldn’t breath. It couldn’t be him. There was no way. You knew he could have grabbed your information from the night you left your belongings in his room but you thought he would have contacted you sooner. No it couldn’t be him, you convinced yourself.

“Which he didn’t,” Cody continued. “Because I took the order. I explained to him nutmeg was already in the fondue but if he would prefer more I would be happy to assist…” “You don’t need to defend yourself.” You cut him off grabbing your toque. You threw it at your sous chef. “Please apologize on my behalf and offer to comp his meal and drinks. If there are anymore problems, I will be in my office catching up on paperwork.”

You slammed your door shut leaving your staff to manage themselves. You looked through the paperwork cross cutting last year's trends to the most recent weeks. Even though your eyes focused on the papers you couldn’t help to relive when you first met him. The thought still gave you butterflies and your cheeks turned red. God, what you wouldn’t give to go back to that moment.

“Y/N… Y/N” Your sous chef called out startling you. “Are you okay?”

“Yes of course.” You stated tapping the papers on the desk to organize them together. “What’s going on?”

“I think you should go talk to him..” she suggested. She took your silence as a key to continue. “He said he was offended that the real chef couldn’t come out to apologize herself but that he would still pay for his dinner.”

“Sounds like he is a piece of work.” You softly scoffed.

“Y/N, I think you really need to talk to him…” she almost pleaded. “I don’t know if you are familiar with the show Supernatural…” you tried to look anywhere but at her to hide your panic. “It’s one of the actors, he could give us a lot of bad press if we don’t fix this.”

You settled for a pencil and pretended to take down notes. “I am not going to give him any special treatment just because he has more than 20 followers on twitter.” You mumbled.

“That's the thing, if it was anyone else, you would be out there schmoozing it up.” She argued.

You laughed as you were the farthest thing for a schmooze. “We’re done discussing this. Please get back on the line.” You politely ordered.

She rolled her eyes on the way out and tossed your toque on the floor. Your thoughts were racing to much to care about her attitude. You kept writing down notes but you couldn’t decide what to do. You snatched your keys from your desk and left your chefs jacket in the chair. You briefly yelled you were out of the rest of the night and your sous chef was in charge. You noticed a couple of judgemental gazes but your staff was more concerned as your behavior was off key.

The cold air hit your face in causing you to inhale sharply and tears to form at your eyes. You made your way through the alley and past the dumpsters to the parking lot. Your hands were shaking as you pulled out the keys to unlock your car.

“Y/N!” A voice called loudly confirming your prediction of who it was. “Y/N” This time his voice was closer and a bit out of breath.

You finally forced yourself to look at him. His cheeks were rosy from the cold air and you could see his breath as snowflakes started to fall. You looked back down at your hands and fiddled with your keys.

“How’d you know I’d be out here?” you questioned not knowing what else to say.

He laughed. “You’re a runner.”

You smiled and looked back at him. “I guess I am becoming too predictable.”

He shook his head in agreement. “Yeah.”

“I’ve missed you.” You softly admitted.

“And I you.” He smiled and lessened the gap between you. When you remained silent and he noticed you were shivering he offered a proposition. “How about we catch up over a cup of coffee?”

“Yeah, I know a quiet place up the street.” You pointed.

The both of you walked together in silence. A few minutes into the walk Jay wrapped his jacket around you. You smiled bashfully. He stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep them warm.

“Do you remember in Vancouver, it was a night like this I think…. We were bouncing around the street to keep warm and you started blaring  out…. Ahh shit, what is that U2 song called again?” He questioned.

You knew exactly what he was talking about, the memory came back to you instantly. You never sang in front in of anyone, but when you were with him, you didn’t care about what he thought, you felt free. “City of Blinding Lights,” You smiled fondly.

“Yeah, that’s it.” He remembered. “That’s when I knew.” He confessed seriously.

“Knew that I should have gone into the music industry instead of cooking?” You teased.

He laughed and teased you back. “Yeah, no one has ever matched your varying pitches.” You stopped outside the cafe. “But seriously, that’s when I knew I wanted to be more than friends.” You sighed and felt that same pinch of guilt you felt the night you kissed him. You ignored him and opened the door walking into the cafe.  Once you both had your drinks and found a nook to sit in you started to open up.

“Jensen, I can’t go through this again, I am not willing to have an af..” You started.

“Lana and I are divorced.” He solemnly admitted.

“What?” You were completely shocked. “When?”

“Two months after Chicago.” He disclosed.

“Was it because of..”

“No,” he cut you off. “We were having problems for a while, but you made it easier for me.”

You still couldn’t wave away your feeling of guilt and Jensen could sense it.

He reached over and grabbed your hands from the mug. “This had nothing to do with you, that was between me and her. Okay?”

You briefly rubbed your thumb over his knuckles. “Then why are you here Jay?” “Because I wanted to reconnect with you, I wanted to apologize for not being honest with you before and to apologize for the way things ended in Vancouver.” He explained.

You pulled your hands back away and wrapped them back around your mug. “I don’t know if I can go back to the way things used to be.” You confessed.

“I don’t want things the way the were. I want more.”

You scoffed as you looked into his earnestly green eyes. “You just got out of a relationship, a serious one.”

“Listen, I don’t want to waste anymore time.” He pushed.

“I just don’t think we should rush anything right now.” You explained.

“Why are you so against this?” He realized your cap as was the same when he saw you in Chicago and clenched his jaw. “Is it Scott?” He fumed with jealousy.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter. “Are you kidding me?” You continued laughing but you could tell he wanted an answer. “I have never thought of Scott as anything more than a friend and a mentor. The thought is just absurd.” Jensen still seemed upset. “Is this what it has always been about?” The realization hit you. “You’ve always been jealous of him?” You asked confused looking at him for an answer. His face gave it away. “God, if we had just been honest with each other, huh?” You took a break from your rant and sipped your coffee.

“Well then be honest with me now. Y/N, what do you want?” He demanded.

“I…,” You pondered your thoughts.

“If you’re not interested, please just tell me and I will leave you alone, but I just need to know.” Jensen pleaded.

“I’m scared. I am not good enough for you, I don’t want to make you look bad, what if we lose everything we had?” you confided.

“You could never make me look bad. When I first saw you, you took my breath away. You are more than I deserve. And as for losing what we had, why not chance to make it… to make it better?” He argued.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Do you got a place to stay?”

“We are in the middle of a conversation.” Jensen stated.

“Well, I am not ready to give you an answer tonight. So, either you can stay in my spare bedroom that’s never been used or I can give you a hotel recommendation.” You offered.

Jensen leaned back in his chair and sighed not knowing what to choose.

“Come on,” You stood up. “Let’s put on a movie, and you can decide after.”

The ride back was fairly silent. Jensen was shocked to enter your apartment complex, knowing that you probably could afford more. As you entered you threw your keys on the counter the squeaked for your cat. Jensen continued to analyze, he closed his eyes thinking you didn’t think you deserved better but the truth was you deserved so much more.

You picked up your cat who perched on your shoulders. Usually he would nuzzle your hair but his full attention was fixed on Jensen. He jumped down and went to sniff his legs. To your surprise he nuzzled against his leg and then came back to greet you a second time.

You smiled, “He doesn’t often take to kindly to strangers. Why don’t you pick out a movie, I am going to clean up a sec from work.” Jensen browsed your selves laughing when he saw the collection of old westerns you had. In the past, he would usually suggest them but within 30 minutes you were always out like a light. He picked out ‘Unforgiven’, although he completely acknowledged you would have preferred Casablanca or some other chick flick. He thought it just didn’t seem appropriate given the conversation tonight. He fiddled with the remotes and got it up and running. You came back out, hair down, face washed, and in a hoodie and yoga pants.

“Guess I am not the only predictable one.” You teased.

“Hey, Clint Eastwood is a genius.” Jensen defended as he sat on the couch.

You tossed him a blanket and grabbed your own sitting down on the floor leaning against the couch. But eventually you ended up on the couch, cuddled against Jensen’s chest, his arms wrapped around you as you became more and more tired with your eyes fluttering shut.

“Hey Jensen.” You mumbled.

“Mmmm” It was clear he was drifting off too.

“I’ve always loved you… let’s see if it works” You alluded to his question earlier tonight.

He stroked your hair as the both of you drifted to sleep, perfectly content, more than he had been in a long time.

Part 4

Tags:

@jensen-gal​

[wildefiction]

Of Course...Mr. Collins

THIRTEEN

Thursday came and went with little excitement, Misha leaving you to your own devices as he was briefed on that weekend’s convention schedule. You spent the day sun-bathing, napping and texting your sister about your first day in Hawaii.

Friday morning, you woke to the incessant buzzing of your phone. Cracking one eyelid, your vision slid into focus as you noted the annoying black device vibrating towards you along the table. Groaning, you winced as the backlight blinded you. It was six in the morning. 

“So much for this trip being a vacation, hah.” 

The six text messages surprised you and you began to scroll through them, expecting them to all be from Misha. Only that man would wake up six hours before the convention was due to start.

To your surprise, only five of them were from your boss. The sixth, was from Norman.

“Hey [Y/F/N], how ‘bout that ride today? ; )

Your heart fluttered for a moment, chills running down your arms. Sure, he’d said he’d text you - but you hadn’t actually expected him to. Your hands shook slightly as you typed out a quick response.

“That would be awesome! Let me get back to you after I check in with Mish. Woke up to five messages from him!”

Switching back to the group of messages from Misha, you sighed in relief when you realized they weren’t urgent. There was a picture of the sunrise and the beach where he’d gone running. The third was him letting you know the cast was getting together for drinks that night, asking if you wanted to go. Then one mentioning he was on his way back to the hotel, and finally one asking if you wanted coffee or tea since he was stopping anyhow.

The last message had been sent five minutes ago. Hurrying to respond, you asked for an earl grey latte before throwing the phone down on the bed and moving to find clothes for the day.

Fifteen minutes later, a dull thudding sound coming from across the room had you pulling the door open to see Misha, two paper cups in hand and a brown bag clenched in his teeth. Laughing, you grabbed the bag from his mouth and moved back, allowing him to join you in the room. 

“I grabbed some of those bantam bagels and a breakfast sandwich for you to go with your tea.” We’ve got a few hours of work ahead of us, but I figure if we get done by lunch, you can have the afternoon off. Did you want to go tonight?” 

Realizing you hadn’t answered that text, you quickly agreed. 

“Of course! I’m super excited to meet everyone!” Clutching the warm drink in your hand and raising it to your lips, you drank deeply of the caffeine before eyeballing the paper bag you’d set down on the table.

Misha wandered into his room to grab the laptop from his bag. 

“Here [Y/F/N], I’d like you to book us tickets to San Francisco for the first week of December and make the travel arrangements. I’m due at the convention Saturday morning, so we should probably get in Friday afternoon. The convention takes care of our hotel, but you should send the co-ordinator an email if you want your own room, they usually need a bit of notice for that kind of thing.”

With a bagel stuffed in one side of your mouth, you nodded in understanding as you pulled your tablet out and began writing a list of the things you needed to do.

“When you’re finished with that, do you think you might be able to find me something to wear to the luau tomorrow night? A fun shirt or something? I’m thinking my usual just isn’t going to cut it. Pick something nice up for yourself too while you’re out.” 

As you opened your mouth to protest, Misha held up a hand, effectively silencing you. 

“Before you say anything, just consider it a signing bonus.” “Think you can be ready by, say, nine?” 

Nodding as you scribbled the notes on your list, you moved out onto the balcony, deciding to work on booking flights in the sunshine. 

“Sounds good Misha, want to meet for lunch later?” 

“I’ll actually be out most of the day, if you need me feel free to send me a text.” Reaching into his back pocket, Misha pulled his wallet out before rifling through it for a moment and then selecting a card and handing it towards you. Taking it from him, you were surprised at the heaviness of it. The black and cobalt gradient running over the front wrapped around the metal rectangle. Flipping it over, the card number and identifying information were printed neatly in the bottom corner. 

“Kindly send me a screenshot of the flights you find before purchasing them please.” 

“How much do you want me to spend on your shirt, sir?” You were still writing notes and didn’t look up to see Misha’s body language quiet as he watched you at your task. 

“Whatever you like. I’m sure you can figure out what is and isn’t appropriate.” Snapping your head up, you rose from the chair as Misha turned from the room. 

“Uh, no. You just gave me a credit card and I’d have a hard time spending thirty dollars on a shirt, so, I mean, can I at least have a range?! And, I don’t even know your style, what are you looking for?” 

Misha turned as your cool fingers touched his skin and he smiled at the apprehension on your face. Grabbing both of your hands in his, he looked straight at you, demanding eye contact as a smile spread on his face. You stilled as you looked back at him - damn if those eyes weren’t easy to fall into…

“I have complete faith in you [Y/F/N], pick something that you’d like, doesn’t have to be fancy. And keep it under two-hundred?” “You’ll do fine.” With a final squeeze to your hands, he turned again and disappeared back into his room, leaving you with your assignments.

Settling into the table, being warmed by the morning sun you dove into searching for flights immediately, comparing the differing airlines and seat arrangements. As simple as it seems, you enjoyed this kind of work. It kept you busy while placating the organization skills that you couldn’t function without. Within the hour you’d found suitable flights for a pretty decent price and took a screenshot to send to Misha. Your phone notification sounded almost immediately; “Well that was fast,” you mused - sliding the menu screen open.

“Busy, busy eh? How about that ride?”

At first, you were confused, thinking it was Misha that had responded so quickly. Realizing it was Norman, you cursed to yourself. You’d completely forgotten to text him back. Glancing down at the clock, you noted it was only almost eight.

“Wanna meet for lunch around eleven?”

Another text. This one from Misha. 

“Try again [Y/F/N] - how can I utilize your assistance properly if you’ve put yourself in coach?” “Dates and times look good though, just update your seat and send me the confirmation.” 

He’d included his email address in the message. You sighed, but made the changes he requested anyhow before clicking on the checkout button. Buzzing twice in a row, you picked up your phone and saw that Misha had received the confirmation, and Norman had responded:

“It’s a date” ; )

Crossing the flights off of your list, you moved on to making travel arrangements. Several driving companies surrounded the airport you planned to fly into and you quickly made reservations with the best reviewed. After shooting a quick email to the convention organizers requesting two hotel rooms, you closed your laptop and gathered everything before heading back into the dim, air conditioned room.

After taking a quick shower and blow drying your hair, you stepped back into your room to get dressed. Settling on a pair of cut-offs and a Zeppelin t-shirt, you pulled a pair of boots from the closet you’d finally managed to unpack now that it was halfway through the week and laced them up over your socks. While the warm weather made wearing heavy boots less comfortable, one thing you’d remembered from growing up on the back of a bike was that you had to wear good shoes. Technically, you should’ve also worn pants, but you needed to be at least a little comfortable.

As the last hour ticked by, your nerves began worrying at you, and try as you might to calm them, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t startle when a heavy knock sounded on your door. Wiping your hands against the denim covering your thighs, you rose to answer the door.

“Hey, hey sweetheart, ya ready ta go?” Norman stood before you, dark Ray-bans wrapped over his eyes; a black hat pulled down over his shaggy auburn hair. 

Grinning widely you turned to grab your phone and wallet before closing the door behind you. 

“So, where ya wan’na go? Throwing an arm across your shoulders, he led you down the hallway.

Walking out to the parking lot, you waited as Norman swung one of his long legs over the seat of his bike, slowly backing the machine away from it’s parking spot. Looking up at you, he smirked as he waited for you to join him. Stepping up to the edge of the curb, you straddled the now rumbling monster, balancing yourself with one hand on Norman’s shoulder before seating yourself behind him. With a twist of the throttle, the bike lurched forward, and you pressed yourself against his broad back, gripping his waist with only your thighs as he accelerated out onto the main road.

Pulling into a Hawaiian barbeque place fifteen minutes later, you steadied yourself on his shoulders as you stood up from the bike. 

“Ya like bar-ba-que lady?” The deep voice reminded you of the bike you’d just stepped off of and it sent a chill through your body as the smell of smoked meat drew you to the front doors. 

“Uh, does a bear shit in the woods?” Norman laughed as he held the door open to let you pass through. 

Sitting down at the outdoor patio, you attacked the brisket and pulled pork you’d ordered from the run-down little establishment. 

“So, where’d ya learn ta ride?” Norman sat across from you, momentarily taken aback with the obscene sounds that drifted from your body as you savored the food before you, eyes screwed shut in concentration. Opening them at the question, your face reddened as the man across from you removed his sunglasses and fixed you with his light blue eyes. 

“Blue, just like Misha’s, but lighter.” You mused to yourself before answering. 

“My dad. I spent a lot of time on his bike growing up. He was a Harley guy too.” Norman grunted in appreciation as he continued eating. Eyeing your t-shirt, he rose an eyebrow, “ya like Zeppelin eh?” 

Grinning, you nodded enthusiastically, launching into an animated discussion of your favorite songs and how you liked a lot of classic and modern rock.

Over the next hour, you talked about everything from the weather to relationships - good and bad and your hobbies. You learned that, while they filmed in Georgia, Norman actually lived in New York and spent a lot of time sculpting and painting when he was home, which wasn’t very often. 

“I always wan’na be doin’ sum’thin.” “Get kin-a res’less if I’m in one place too long, ya know?” 

“Sounds like a helluvan adventure actually.” 

Rising from the table, the two of you made your way back to the front of the establishment before climbing back on the bike. 

“Ya can hol’ on ya know. I ain’t gonna bite cha…” 

“Oh, but biting’s excellent - it’s like kissing, only… there’s a winner!” You laughed, but wrapped your arms low around his waist, sliding your hands under his vest to splay your fingers over his muscled abdomen. 

“Well then, darlin’ I’ll hafta keep that in mind.”

The next several hours flew by in a blur, you and Norman spent the time driving along the coast, stopping occasionally to sit in the sand and watch the waves crash over the beach. At one point, you stopped to pluck a plumeria blossom from one of the fragrant trees that dotted the park you were walking through, carefully tucking it behind your right ear. The yellow and white flower striking against your [Y/H/C] hair. 

Reaching into your back pocket, you took your phone out and flipped on the camera, taking a picture to send to your sister back home. This island was so amazing, you almost didn’t want to go back. 

“Hey, Norman, can we take a picture? My sister will never believe me if I try to tell her what I’ve done with my day.” 

Chuckling, he ambled over, throwing an arm around your neck and pulling you harshly against his side. Taking your phone, he held it up in the air before releasing the shutter a couple of times. 

“Alrigh’, one more.” Turning the camera sideways, he squeezed you closer into his side and as you looked up into the screen, he turned and pressed his lips to your cheek right as he hit the button. Blushing to yourself, you took the phone back from him and mumbled a thank you as you busied yourself with sending her the pictures.

Upon returning to the hotel, you checked your phone again as you said goodbye to Norman, with the promise to text him later. You were surprised to see there were no messages from Misha, he must be busy you thought to yourself before heading for the outdoor shopping area.

Drifting in and out of several shops trying to decide what to pick up for Misha was pretty challenging, but you ended up settling on a blue Hawaiian print shirt that was nearly the same color as his eyes. Gods that man had beautiful eyes. You’d never seen anything like them. Perhaps you were a bit biased, but you’d always been attracted to guys with dark hair and light eyes, and that rough stubble peppered over his jaw certainly didn’t hurt.

Checking the time, you noted it was nearly seven thirty and you still had to find yourself something to wear. After trying on several things you finally asked for help from one of the sales associates in a store filled with dresses. 

“Hi, I’m looking for something to wear to a beach party tomorrow night, something nice but not too formal? Your [Y/E/C] eyes searched hers and she smiled back before bustling out from behind the counter to dig through the racks.

When your phone began ringing, you quickly answered Misha’s call, holding the device up to your ear. 

“Hey, [Y/F/N], you  gonna be ready soon?” Pulling the phone away to glance at the time, you cursed under your breath when you noticed it was quickly approaching eight. You’d never been more happy that you had showered that morning. 

“Uh, yeah, give me twenty? Oh! Wait, that stuff you wanted me to buy is for tomorrow right? Not tonight?!” He laughed through the phone and assured you that was correct. 

“Come in whatever you’re wearing now, we’re just going out to a few bars after all.” 

Promising to meet him at the room, you spent another ten minutes choosing between a couple of dresses the woman had suggested and paid for your purchase before flying back through the shopping center and up to your room.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

TAGS: @jamielea81 @wings-of-a-raven