#when vi drops her big ass gloves

[basicallycaitlynk]

i'm going to be so honest for one second that kiss has not left my mind for DAYS!!! everybody moved on im still in that alley where they're MAKING OUT

im very very casual about this. framing it when i get home btw

[princesssmars]

home sweet home

a vi x reader.

the war between the silco and the firelights has gotten tense, and all you want is a day off to rest. but when an old flame returns from the dead you find the energy to give her a welcome home present she won’t forget.

wc: 4.491

contains : fluff, adoptive brother ekko and firelight reader. mentions of vi's abuse in prison :c smut. dry humping and tribbing yippee.

a/n : idk something about being separated for years and celebrating the reunion with rough and/or desperate sex does it for me bro 💔 started this beforeeee everything and hopefully this gets posted the morning of act ones drop <3 update i love vi but i need to kick her ass yayyy enjoy.

-

for lack of a better word, your day was getting really fucking weird.

you woke up with a weird feeling in your stomach, an ache strong enough to rouse you from your sleep and out of your bed. you chalked it up to hunger, having skipped another meal last night to stay up looking over some of the injured firelight’s and new schematics for tools and weapons.

but once you got a good meal into your stomach, staring up at the giant tree you called your home, you realized the feeling wasn’t from neglecting your appetite. it was that feeing you got when something big was about to happen.

you felt it when the breakthroughs were made on some of the bigger inventions like the hoverboards, when the firelights found this impossible and beautiful grove and made it their home, on that day years ago where your life crumbled around you in the space of a few days.

so it was only up to fate if something bad or good would happen today. and you didn’t feel like waiting to find out.

quickly making your way up the tree, you rapidly do your special knock on ekko’s door, only to be met with silence. you try again and silence still. trying and slightly failing to keep yourself calm, you head back down and start asking others if they’ve seen him, the ache in your stomach growing at some of the awkward and shifty responses you get.

for six years you and ekko have been inseparable. both traumatized by the trials of growing up in the undercity, getting taken in by benzo, and then the sudden and bloody death of your friends, you had no one else to depend on except for each other. it was hard to put it lightly, navigating a rapidly changing undercity and taking care of your little adoptive brother while trying to deal with your own trauma. even as you met others and formed this group you now call family, you made a promise to each other to stick side by side no matter what.

and that included not running off and doing god knows what in the early morning while the other was sleeping.

you’re halfway through pulling on your coat and mask when you hear the sound of the main door opening and a small commotion, running as fast as you can to get down the tree again before a tall figure stops you.

he tries to be funny, throwing out a 'hey hey hey, slow down! your running like there’s a fire-ow!' before he holds a gloved hand to the side of his arm, cradling the spot where you punched him. you get a solid minute of berating and cussing him out before the look on his face tells you he's being serious, conflict clear in his brown eyes.

you have about a million questions running in your head as he leads you to one of the stock rooms, his breath inhaling multiple times to explain before he lets it out in frustration.

“just…promise you won’t freak out, ok?”

you nod before he pushes you inside and closes the door behind you.

you scoff, calling his name and knocking on the hard material for him to let you out. you weren’t in the mood today to entertain his hidden playful nature, most of the time you indulged him but you were too worried at the moment. you’re seconds away from cursing him out again when a soft voice calls out your name from the darkness behind you behind you.

no. it’s not possible. it’s deeper, more rugged then you remember, but you wouldn’t, couldn’t forget that voice. you heard it in your dreams for years, pushing you to keep going for yourself when you felt like giving up, reminding you she was always there by your side when you felt so alone.

you slowly turn your body, unconsciously trying to protect yourself from the possibility of this being a farce when two strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you into a sturdy torso. at the slightest glimpse of hit pink hair your eyes start to water and your chest is heaving with long building gasps, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and digging your face into her neck.

for years you’d daydream about this moment, what you’d say if you were reunited with the girl who was your best friend and likely the love of your life. you’d imagine the rushed out words and apologies, the shared wails as you assured the other you’d never leave their side again. but this silence just feels so right, makes so much sense for all the emotions you’ve been letting sit in your heart without any kind of resolution or closure.

she pulls away from you slightly and you hope she ignores the subtle whine that leaves your throat as she does. her large, and you mean really large, palms come up to cup your cheek as she stares at your face, blue eyes flitting across your features like she’s trying to commit every piece of you to memory. you don’t mind, you remember how she liked when you let her observe things so she could take in things as much as possible lest they be gone in a second. it just gives you an excuse to stare at her, too.

and gods above are you staring. obviously a large part of you is sentimental and sad as you see how much she’s changed over the years; the longer jagged shapes of her jaw, her nose. your heart pangs seeing the cuts in her brow and lip that you unconsciously bring a finger up to rub at. but it takes an embarrassing amount of strength not to pay attention just to her lips as you feel over the scar, how her bright eyes go wide and unblinking as she stands and lets you do whatever it is you’re doing.

you want to do anything to break the tension and you’re given the opportunity when your eyesight drifts slightly to the right and catches onto the tattoo on her upper cheek.

“did you…tattoo your name on your face?”

you’re still so close you can feel her laugh rather than hear it, her chest pressing into your when she huffs through her nose.

“wanted to make sure the guys in there knew who was kicking their asses without the need for introductions.”

“still punching first yelling insults later?”

“nothing anybody in there didn’t deserve.”

gods does your heart hurt for her. you knew it was likely other people like her were probably in stillwater, disposed of to cover someone’s ass or see as thrash just for where they were born. but you knew despite that she would have faced so much being thrown in there at such a young age that you not anyone else could understand, the way they must have treated her…

even after all these years it’s like she can ready your body language like a book, able to know your fingers stalling in their exploration means your mind is wandering, and given the previous subject matter she knows it can’t be good. her bandaged fingers gently wrap around yours and rub over your knuckles until your attention is back on her.

“hey, stay with me for now. we’ll have time to go over all that stuff later. right now just stay with me, alright?”

like you could ever say no to her.

you figure the best way to make progress until your much needed conversation is yo acquaint her with where your sure she’ll be staying until she gets back on her feet, however she chooses to do so. at first she seems uncomfortable with the idea of staying at the base, like she doesn’t want to intrude on the home you and others had built from the ground up.

“obviously i’ll help with anything you guys ask but are you sure everyone would be alright with me staying here? i kind of punched the shit out of that scar guy.”

“he’ll get over it just like everyone else. you’re a legend here, vi, you’re up on that mural for a reason.”

the whole time you show vi around you feel a warm mess in your chest. you forgot just how nice it was to spend time with her, thinking back on fond memories of the two of you sneaking away when the others were busy to spend time together on the safer and quieter parts of the undercity. your feelings aren’t helped with how close vi insists on being, hand never leaving your grasp as you tug her around and occasionally bumping her shoulder into yours when your mind wanders.

you’re recounting the story of how one of the hoverboards went haywire and crashed into one of the bases walls when a low rumble from the side of you cuts you off, footsteps halting you in place. when you turn to vi she has that same cute embarrassed look she used to have when you were younger, eyes wide and body still like if she didn’t move you wouldn’t acknowledge what just happened.

she knows better than to argue with you as you drag her pliant body somewhere, most likely to get her something to eat after only having some scarfed down jerichos a few hours ago. you bc lead her to some small communal dining area before not so gently guiding her to sit, eyes on her form for a few seconds to make sure she won’t be stubborn and refuse to let you grab some food for her.

and why would she even think of resisting when she can sit here and finally get a few minutes to just relax. ever since cait somehow managed to get her out of prison her body had been on, sheer stubbornness and willpower keeping her going until she found what she was looking for. a part of her knew she wouldn’t stop searching, wouldn’t stop hoping to see you and her sister again.

but as she watches you across the room pick and prod over a meal a vastayan is helping to out on your plate her shoulders unclench and the muscles in her legs ease. nothing felt better than when you’d dote over her. she remembers one time she caught a flu and had to stay inside and distant from everyone, ready to be miserable in solitude until you burst in with vander hot on your heels and insisted you wouldn’t leave her side until she was better, that she’d do the same for you.

which she did have to wind up doing as you caught the sickness from her after only three days. she never once complained.

when you finish her plate you look back to her with a sweet smile and start to walk back over to her. she writhes in her seat a bit under your gaze, suddenly feeling a little too warm when you sit the plate in from of her and tell her to eat up. she tries her best not to scarf this down as well, but when you give her a look that says you know how hungry she she is and won’t mind she can’t help herself.

she spends the rest of the day by your side, never leaving your sight as you introduce her to some of your fellow firelights and some of the younger kids who’d heard stories about her and vander. you can tell it still prods at an unhealed wound to talk about him in past tense, but that she still looks back on those fond memories with happiness. you’re more than happy to join in and help narrate the tale of one of your more adventurous and dangerous trips through the old undercity.

eventually the sun starts to set and the lights of the tree turn from a dazzling green to a soft collection of oranges and yellow, a signal to everyone that it’s time to wind down and end the day. the two of you meet back of with ekko who tells you he had already shown cait to an extra room she could use for the next few days.

“cupcake didn’t put up too much of hassle today, did she? don’t think she’s ever spent this much time past the promenade.”

“she was alright. uptight but i can tell she means well. you can talk to her in the morning, her room is right across from yours.”

you’re paying too much attention to just being in the space of two of your favorite people again that you don’t even notice how vi has turned her head to look at you, silently asking you to ask her for what she hopes you both want. by the time you realize and turn back to ekko he has that dumb little grin on his face that he used to wear all the time he’d catch the two of you getting a little too close for comfort.

“don’t even start, ekko.”

“i didn’t say anything! i’ll catch up with you two tomorrow. try not to be so loud, some of us need a good nights sleep tonight-“

you quickly reach over and swat at the young boys arm as he laughs and hurries away from the two of you, voice carrying as he leaves to head off to sleep.

it’s surreal as you take vi’s hand into yours and start the brisk walk to your personal quarters. you don’t have any expectations about tonight but you can’t lie and say a deep part of yourself isn’t hoping to get more than close with her tonight.

once you reach your bedroom you start shuffling for some clothes for the both of you to wear while she prods and examines all of your things. you watch her for a moment, nearly giving yourself away with a laugh when she nearly breaks the dusty antique snow globe you’d found abandoned on a scrap run.

“it’s crazy, right? how they’ll just abandon things without even thinking about their worth.” you speak offhandedly as you settle yourself on to your bed and start to remove your boots and holsters.

“yeah, no offense but i just. really don’t wanna talk about abandoning things right now.” her tone is malicious enough to make you sit your movements, eyes softening at the broken and tired woman in front of you.

“i’m sorry, i just-“

“no, no, it’s okay. i understand,” you gently reach out your hand to hold hers, locked in that tight fist she does when she’s bottling up her anger. “can you talk to me about it? whatever you want to say, just say it.”

she rolls her shoulder before setting down the globe and sitting on the bed, her tensed back facing you. you gently pass the spare clothes you have for her and watch as she takes them and sets them on her lap.

“every night for the first year i was in there i’d have these nightmares. about what happened. first it was just, replaying what happened on this endless loop. then it was wondering what i could’ve done different, if i could’ve been smarter-“

“vi dont do that,” you crawled over to sit right behind her body placed your hands on her shoulders, gently rubbing them across and down to her forearms. trying to look her in the eye proves useless. “what happened was…tragic, and blaming yourself is pointless. you did what you could, i know you did.”

“how? how could you possibly know?” she finally turns her head to you and the look in her eyes does nothing to help the sick feeling you have building up in your throat and stomach. “i told you to stay with ekko, you weren’t there. how could you not be even a little angry at me, for not being here for powder, for ekko and the firelights, for you?”

you can hear the lump in her throat and see the tears building in her eyes when you bring your hands up to cup her face. a stray tear runs down her face and you brush it away with your thumb.

“i could never be angry at you, vi. not for this. the girl i know always kept fighting for her family, and if she didn’t come back to us it was because she couldn’t. she’d never abandon us, you wouldn’t abandon us.”

she gently nods her head and nuzzles her face into your hands. you give her a minute to calm down, continuing to softly brush her cheeks and her crazy hair out of her eye.

“what is going on with your hair?” you whisper as you struggle to push a strand away and out of her face, giving up once it falls back into place for the tenth time.

her eyebrows scrunch. "what, you dont like it? its cool."

"its covering half of your face, its horrible."

"you'll get used to it." she shakes her head with a small smile before softly resting her hand on your lower waist.

"maybe, but im definitely not going to brush over you tattooing your name on your face. please tell me you didnt make any other rash b ody adjustments in there."

the growing smile on her simultaneously puts butterflies in your stomach and makes you very nervous. its not helped when she turns her back to you again and starts to shrug off her jacket, revealing the previous glimpse of her neck tattoo you'd seen goes further down. way further down.

"wow. that's...wow." you want to bury your head into your hands and leave the room. 'wow just wow?' really smooth. "can i touch?"

"uhhh yeah, no problem."

after she gives her consent your fingertips lightly hover and brush over the interlapping lines of curves inked into her skin. you feel a small thrill seeing the goosebumps rise on her arms when your hands glide down them, taking pride in knowing you can still bring out a physical reaction in her with your touch.

"this is really nice, vi. did you get someone in there to do it for you?"

"nope, did 'em both myself. wasn't exactly the best environment to ask people to have access to your body with a needle for hours at a time."

you hum in response while continuing to observe the tattoo. you can see it goes further down her back and decide to speak without thinking too much about what you're saying.

"can i see the rest of it?"

you're a bit scared at how still she goes, wondering if maybe you crossed a boundary before her hands slowly reach behind her and start to lift the white fabric of her shirt until its full taken off of her body.

you make sure to continue the gentle touches as your hands run down the muscles and planes of her back, continuing to admire the clouds and gears that make up the design. you feel a little pang in your heart when you see the initials of mylo and claggor at the bottom of the tattoo, along with the number of welts and scars on her skin.

"its beautiful, vi." you whisper. her body subtly scooches back on the bed to get closer to your touch. the moment is just shy of overwhelming, which is probably why you leave a small kiss on her shoulder, right where one of the scars starts before trailing down her back a few inches. she lets out a muffled noise and you start to pull away before the strong grip of her palm clasps down on your leg, holding you in place.

you leave more kisses and pecks over the length of her tattoo as your legs start to wrap around her from behind, both of her hands grasping your thighs as she relaxes into the affection. you test the waters when you come back up to her neck, lightly sinking your teeth into her skin.

"oh fuck-" her strained voice hits your ears right before she abruptly pulls out of your arms and tugs you by the arm and leg until your reversed, sitting in her lap with her hands gripping at your hips.

you continue to drag yours up and down her arms, reveling in the fact that you can now see her facial expressions, how her eyes droop and lips part as you slightly scratch at her skin.

you adjust your hips to sit closer to her at the same time she lifts hers up, the friction causing small noises to escape both of your throats. her eyes open up and she stares up at you with those big light blues.

your hand travels up to her hair, running through it as you keep looking at her. "are you sure? i dont wanna push you,"

"you wont, i do. please, just wanna be close to you."

you give in, wrapping your arms around her neck and bringing her into a sweet kiss, reveling in the feel of her arms coming up to grip on your back. its slow and languid as you get used to each other before she adds her tongue to the mix, pulling a moan from your throat as you try to bury yourself even closer into her hold.

you move your focus onto her neck, trailing kisses and bites down and across her throat, as she rocks your bodies together and claws at your back.

"used to dream about this, about you, missed you so much," her voice has a slight rasp to it already that drives you nuts, instantly darting back up to bring her into a messy kiss. she adjusts her knee to rest in between your legs and lifts it up into your core, pulling away to look at you as you moan at the friction.

"jeez, what'd they teach you in there?" you let out a breathy chuckle while you grind down into her knee. your eyes drift close before her gentle kiss to her cheek drags your gaze back to her, unblinking as she watches you come undone for her. her stare along with the hazy smile on her face yanks you to the edge, gasping and moaning as you come in her arms.

you feel almost drunk as you come down from your orgasm, nuzzling into her neck while she presses gentle kisses to your shoulder and the side of your neck. she starts to place your body on the bed before you tug her back on top of you.

"what, aren't you tired?"

"maybe, but not tired enough to stop now. take off your pants."

she grins like she'd just been offered free sweets from a piltovian candy shop for the rest of her life. you try not to giggle as she stumbles off the bed and tugs her pants off before settling her body back on top of yours. she resumes her barrage of kisses and bites into your skin, finally paying some attention to your chest while you bring your hands up to thumb at her nipples, biting your lip at how sensitive she is to the touch.

she wastes no time spreading your legs beneath you and getting your silent agreement before moving her lips to rest over yours, taking a second to drag her fingers through your cunt and stuffing them inside her mouth.

"vi!"

"sorry, was just curious." she leans down to kiss you sweetly before resting her self on you, legs draped over the curves of her arms as she oh so slowly starts to drag herself back and forth over you.

you slightly wish you had done this first as the overstimulation makes it oh so intense for you, the feeling of her hair and clit rubbing over yours nearly sending you into a frenzy. your eyes roll back into your head once she starts to speed up her movements, her soft whines and grunts into your neck only adding to the physical stimulation you're feeling.

your core feels like its on fire when you start to hear the subtle whispers she's letting out into your neck, curses of 'fuck, fuck oh-fuck,' and grunts of your name mix together to create a desperate harmony.

"vi, feels too- oh my god i-"

"i know, baby, i know," she moans, pressing a harsh bite into the underside of your neck. you can feel her smile into it when you involuntarily let out a squeal at the action. "never gonna leave you, pretty. could never leave you, leave this."

you never fancied yourself the possessive type, but the reaction you have to her words definitely proves there's something there as you wrap your hands around her shoulder and squish her down into you again, moaning just a little too loud at the lack of closeness and feeling of her chest rubbing against yours.

you can feel your next orgasm building quick and fast, thighs trembling as you desperately grind your hips into her even harder. you can tell she's close too, hips losing their rhythm as her panting gets even louder. you nudge your face to the side and rub your cheek against hers, thankful she gets the hint to smother both of your noises with an intense kiss.

"fuck, vi, missed you s'much, love this, love you-"

you're grateful that you have some semblance of brain activity left to drag her head down to your neck to bit down as she cums, her groan loud and long as she keeps moving her hips until you cum only a few seconds after she does. you can feel a tear or two escape your eyes, overstimulation so intense you think you see janna for a moment.

both of your chests are rapidly panting as you catch your breaths, dragging your hand through her sweaty hair while she presses gentle kisses over the marks she no doubt left over your chest. now you'll have to wear more layers for a while, but at the moment you cant find it in you to care.

"you have no idea how glad i am that i still have you," you almost dont pick up on the silent whisper she says, muffled by the current kisses. you lazily drag your fingers to lift her up by the chin until she's looking at you, eyes filled with nothing but love and affection.

"you're always gonna have me vi, i promise."

you can tell she has her doubts, you do as well. but she lets herself relax into your hand yet again and wears the tiniest smile while she starts to fall asleep in your embrace.

you gently pull the covers over both of your bodies and follow her into the lull of sleep, falling asleep in vi's arms again for the first time in years.

you have the nicest dreams you've had in years.

[cattles-bians]

exes au part 14

post directory

obsetress:

obsetress: viola

em: holy shit

em: i think viola could hold a truly ridiculous number of things in her hands

em: danis like i have a little fanny pack right here- and violas like (turns up nose) absolutely not

obsetress: pre therapy viola during her relationship w dani: buys dani a birkin too, is like "here baby, so you don't have to use that fanny pack"

obsetress: dani's like "oh. i, um. like my fanny pack"

obsetress: viola therapy era after her relationship with dani: buys her a hermes fanny pack instead

obsetress: jamie rolls her eyes but dani is literally

em: i think a lot abt viola offering solutions completely unprompted n then being really offended when ppl dont take her up on it

em: pre therapy obvs

obsetress: SAME

obsetress: oh link is gross

obsetress: cost is grosser

obsetress: but viola lloyd dropping $2550 on a fanny pack for her ex gf? chefs kiss

---

obsetress: ok just remembered viola slouching or leaning or w/e n like

obsetress: brain practically applying that to exes au and imagining when and where she'd slouch n everyone's reactions to htat

obsetress: bc like she has perfect posture but when she chooses to do it it's a power move

obsetress: and i. hm

em: yeah

obsetress: viola sitting up stock straight when they first get to brunch and as soon as she's ordered her bloody mary shes pulling off her sunglasses and dropping them on the table and just sinking back

em: how to phrase this w/o sounding too much like a whore

em: actually no way to say this but like i feel v strongly abt the way we make women take up less space wrt to knees together calves touching type deal and i think maybe

em: maybe viola can manspread a bit as a treat

em: hate that term but i cant think of a better one

obsetress: nah she does n it's hot

obsetress: just had this image pre divorce of viola and arthur at marriage counseling on opp ends of the couch n arthur's sitting v tight close and vi is just

obsetress: leaning and spreading a lil

obsetress: the first time jamie sees her do it she's so taken aback

obsetress: because she's NOT expecting it

em: jamies like ah ok late in life lesbian deal and then jokes on her viola is fluent in dyke slouch

obsetress: jamie immediately trying to suss out just how long viola has been fucking women

obsetress: she says to dani later "i thought she was all proper like" and dani's like "she is" and jamie's like "so wot was that then" and dani's like "well, people are gay, jamie,"

em: ghfjhgljkJFDASJKKJFGA

em: jamies like so wait how long HAS viola been

obsetress: jamie: so you were vi's first serious girlfriend right? dani: dani: jamie: right???????

em: violas been fucking women longer than jamie has lbr

em: i mean shes clearly only 35, jamie,

obsetress: jamie: so... vi... viola: hm? jamie: you're, uh, gay, right? viola: obviously jamie: right. well dani told me you've been dating women since–– viola: since i was 15, yes jamie: but you married a man

em: violas like u went to jail everyone does stupid shit occasionally

em: jamie: so how long have you been dating women viola: since i was 15 jamie: no i meant like. in years viola raises her eyebrows and jamies just like haha nevermind fuck

obsetress: she tried!

obsetress: she tried

em: jamie on her 35th birthday pencilling 'many happy returns' into violas ????th 35th birthday card

em: yknow i think

em: i think something's afoot

obsetress: jamie, giving up on the direct approach

obsetress: slipping in next to rebecca at the wine bar

obsetress: "becca"

obsetress: "hi, jamie" "hi. how old is your girlfriend"

em: am fucking losing it thinking abt jamie like. realising how much gay energy viola has

em: like taken ABACK

obsetress: fksljfLKSDJFLJ

obsetress: just like

obsetress: why are jamies reactions to viola so funny

obsetress: montage of jamie realizing how much gay energy viola has

obsetress: jamie watching viola sitting

obsetress: jamie watching viola pick up a variety of glasses and mugs

obsetress: jamie watching viola compare hand sizes with dani, jamie's girlfriend and viola's ex girlfriend who she dated for literal years and whose hand size she definitely already knows

em: NOT THE HAND SZIES

em: they go for a walk and viola immediately complains about the sun and jamie's like

em: i have a spare hat but ur not gonna like it

em: its a snapback that says daddy or smthn in gold, owen got it for jamie for her bday, jamie Loathes it

obsetress: BYE

obsetress: viola looks better in it than jamie does

em: jamie has that

em: am i attracted to viola? moment

em: it passses

em: she has already compartmentalised the weird psychosexual power play

em: queen of compartmentalising

obsetress: jamie: had another one of those moments today dani: what moments? jamie: where i thought i might be attracted to vi dani: well, you did let her fuck you... what was it, four? times in one night, so

em: jamie; yeah but like that aside

em: jamie 'thats neither here nor there' taylor

obsetress: she is the queen of compartmentalizing tho

em: i was gonna be like. 'jamies like wait i dont remember saying four' but. i think she would tell dani

em: because the flip of that is dani callin up vi n i dont think she would necessarily

obsetress: i think she would and dani would make her anyway

obsetress: well make her is harsh but

obsetress: dani would very curiously ask in very convincing ways

em: lovingly coax it out of her

em: dani: what if i fucked you four times in o

obsetress: dani: let me do five

em: viola probably wears so many rings jamie doesn’t even clock the ever present thumb ring

obsetress: jamie just. writes it all off

em: am laughing abt like. viola v meticulously taking off every single ring and putting it in its proper location before...

obsetress: there is something. so hot about that

obsetress: im gonna scream i think

em: i was just meming and now im thinking abt it and

em: truly played myself

em: actually this is me refusing to unpack whatever the hell theo crain gloves made me feel

obsetress: sdkfmsldjfa

obsetress: fair

em: sublimate it into rings

obsetress: i just like um

obsetress: thinkin about when she and dani are together and like

obsetress: it's intentional and everything has its place but vi also makes a show out of it

obsetress: and like

obsetress: she's SO painstaking about it and definitely makes dani wait a little bit and

em: helps dani outta her big ass earrings

em: i mean dani doesnt even Need the help

em: viola meticulous lloyd

em: i mean she just wears so much goddamn jewellry

obsetress: she can tell when dani's getting impatient and goes even slower

em: viola has like

em: viola is one of thos ppl thats really into expensive watches

obsetress: !!!!!!

obsetress: yeah

obsetress: nice lil canon nod too

em: she drags dani to antique auctions n danis like i cant. actually tell the difference between the real and the forgery and violas like (passionately explains it for like 30 minutes) and dani is

em: like shes mentally checked out but also v intensely watching violas hands as she points to the parts of the watch

em: rebecca gets it tho

em: rebecca Gets It

obsetress: dani shoving vi into the bathroom at the auction house and tugging vi's hand between her legs v rebecca grabbing her own auction paddle and bidding against viola for the same watch

obsetress: (rebecca n vi fuck in the car on the ride home)

em: dani grabs a paddle n mimes spanking viola n then the auctioneer is like '$250 to 201' and danis like aw Fcuk

em: violas like i cant take u Anywhere

obsetress: dani gives her the 🥺😌and viola's immediately over it and pulling out $250

obsetress: dani: i didn't even want it, i was just–– vi: i know dani: what am i even gonna do with a–– vi: i'll sell it for $500 at a private auction next week dani: so technically i'm making you money dani, grinning: it's like i'm your employee dani: do you have any more assignments for me, boss? vi: dani get your hand out of my pocket i need to focu––

[xiaomomowrites]

zhongli, come down

Genshin Impact | TartaLi/ZhongChi

Summary: “When I’m with you, I feel happy,” his eyes are fixated on the ceiling as he speaks. Childe, on the other hand, can’t look anywhere but at him. And although he speaks of his happiness, there are deep waves of sorrow rolling off of him. Zhongli’s makeup had washed off when he took a steaming shower, leaving Tartaglia to see the dark circles under his eyes and the faint wrinkles underneath. The light in his eyes had dulled without the bold presence of his usual red eyeliner, and it seemed as though his face appeared more sunken in when the light hit him at a certain angle. 

Childe’s heart pangs in his chest. Sometimes, his husband really looks his age.

Or, Zhongli and Childe visit Snezhnaya, but there’s a certain adeptus on Zhongli’s mind.

Find it on Ao3!

WARNING: this fic contains mentions of death/minor character death. Read at your own risk!

This part takes place between act V and act VI, which is still in the works~

A/N: I had meant to get this out earlier, but I live in Texas so we’ve been having sporadic power outages for the past three or four days. I had spotty connection and it was freezing in my house so this ended up a little delayed! Plus, act VI really just doesn’t wanna be written :( I want it to be perfect before I post it though, I don’t wanna give y’all mediocre Tartali food lol. But I hope you all enjoy, I’ll be adding a little message at the end if you’re interested, so stay tuned. -u.n.

--

Zhongli felt another full-body shiver rack through him when the wind whistled by again ruthlessly. Archaic divinity and equity aside, he wanted nothing more but to spit and curse the harsh ice beneath his feet. He had all but lost feeling in his fingers and toes as he stood still in the snow, waiting for Childe to finish grabbing them coffee. The Harbinger had offered the drink out of the kindness of his heart when he had seen how badly Zhongli was shivering, as if they hadn’t come here together before. Zhongli accepted the coffee with enthusiasm, knowing it makes Childe happy when he accepts his gifts.

He found himself at the doorstep of Snezhnaya with Childe, visiting his family for the year as they did each November. Unfortunately, November through February seemed to be the harshest that the winters got. The weather would breach zero degrees and drop past negative ten, the wind would lash furiously past parkas and scarves and mittens and kiss bare skin. And Zhongli, in all his divine beauty, would miss the warm summer nights of Liyue so much that he needed to remind himself of how much he loved his husband just to agree to get on the train with him. 

Childe, his darling ginger, simply hummed alongside him and tucked Zhongli’s arm beneath his own to keep him from slipping on the ice. His time in Liyue had not shaken his immunity to the cold at all. His other hand sipped at the warm coffee encapsulated in green cardboard, humming a happy noise from the back of his throat. Even if it was a one time occurrence years ago that ended with minor bruising along the ex-Archon’s back, Childe never let him live the moment down and swore to hold onto him every second they found themselves in his hometown. Zhongli had insisted that he need not pace himself just to walk alongside an old man like him, but he had just pinched his cheeks, kissed his nose, and reminded him that he wasn’t that old. 

“You’ve got that sexy rich-middle-aged-man thing going on for you. Except, all your money comes from me, and you’re actually six thousand years old,” Tartaglia had told him then, beaming up at him so brightly it made Zhongli blink. 

Soon enough, Zhongli finds himself at his in-law’s residence. He takes a deep breath, preparing for the onslaught of Childe’s siblings enthusiasm, and waits for Childe to knock. The Harbinger grins at his anticipation and raps his knuckles against the comforting wood. Not even a beat later and the oak swings open, revealing Teucer, Tonia, and Anthon. They’ve all gotten so big since he last saw them, watching them grow fills the ex-Archon with pride. Zhongli finds himself smiling, squeezing Childe’s hand partially because he’s overwhelmed with joy, and also so he doesn’t slip and fall on his ass too hard when he’s tackled. 

Seconds later he finds himself with an armful of red headed siblings. He stumbles, but thankfully Childe’s there to steady him upright. Zhongli squeezes his hand again in thanks. 

“Mr. Zhongli!” One of them screeches in his ear, “You’re back! Do you have any presents for us?”

“Mr. Zhongli!” Another one yells, “did you bring me a new book?” 

Luckily, Tartaglia’s mother begins barking at her children to reign them back inside and to  ‘leave the nice man alone’, so that he has time to readjust and step inside the warmth of their cozy abode. Zhongli smiles, cheeks red and ears redder, and bows as deep as he can. 

“Thank you for having me,” the honey-like voice glides against the wooden walls like it belongs there, “it is a pleasure to see you all again.” 

“Oh stop,” his mother-in-law gushes, “we’ve seen you every year for years now, honey, drop the formalities!” she waves him off while pulling her own son into a bone crushing hug. “And it’s good to see you too, hun.”

“Hi mom,” Childe responds sheepishly, careful not to squeeze her too hard, lest her back start cracking again. He raises a hand to cradle the back of her head with a fondness reserved only for her. “Where’s dad?” 

The question hangs above their heads heavily. A beat of silence passes before she smiles warily and squeezes her son’s cheeks. “He’s at the fireplace, Ajax.”

Childe nods, and eyes the urn sitting high above the crackling fireplace. It’s a beautiful marble urn that Tartaglia paid for in full, with a single ruby gem nestled right beside his father’s name. Even in this state, his father has the largest presence in the house. It is a presence even Zhongli can acknowledge and respect. The thought pushes Zhongli to squeeze his hand and mutter, “Go?” 

Tartaglia nods, and swallows hard. Zhongli urges him forward carefully with a gloved hand against the small of his back. His mother watches him go along with sullen and somber eyes. And it is only when Childe is stationed in front of the fire, a single gloved hand covering his mouth, when Zhongli breaks the silence. 

“So,” Zhongli begins, turning to his in-law. “The last time we spoke, you promised me a recipe for that delicious meal you served us last year. Were you able to hold up your end of the contract?” 

The red-headed woman beams up at him and grabs at his hands. Her hands are so small, so soft and delicate, Zhongli wishes nothing more but to protect this family with his life. And well, that makes two of them. 

“Of course, dear,” she says excitedly, “come with me.”

The next hour or so consisted of Zhongli patiently waiting in the kitchen while his mother-in-law bustled around, excitedly explaining the process of dough rolling, frying, meat filling, and then frying again. Zhongli watched with fascination, always one to appreciate cultures from all around the world. He hummed and nodded in confirmation every once in a while when she would turn to him, asking him if he understood, and he smiled. 

Tartaglia came padding into the kitchen later, eyes slightly red and puffy, and Zhongli didn’t need to ask if something was wrong to understand what was going on. He knew all too well of his feelings of conflict toward his father in the past. Now that the man himself was gone, Zhongli could only imagine the things Childe was feeling at the moment. 

Zhongli never exactly had a family to grieve, anyway. As far as he knew, all the family he had was in this very house alone. 

And Xiao, the voice in his head whispered, snapping him out of his reverie. Zhongli blinked the voice away. Now was not the time. 

“Talking behind my back, Xiansheng?” Childe teases, coming up behind him to snake his arms around his waist. “That’s not very husband-like of you, you know.”

“Yes, yes,” Zhongli played along, “your mother and I were just discussing how unruly you are in the morning, and how you leave wet towels on the floor after you shower. Truly a horrendous habit, Tartaglia.”

The ginger pouts over his shoulder and leans in to bite his cheek, reveling in the way Zhongli squeezes one eye shut in a faux flinch. He quickly kisses the flesh he sunk his teeth into and settles back against his husband. 

“Smells good, mom.” 

“It always smells good, Ajax,” she tuts, waving her spoon in his face, “what do you think of your mother, huh?”

“Why am I being attacked,” Tartaglia pouts, the end of the sentence lilting upward in a whine. Zhongli clicks his tongue at his behavior and pats his head reassuringly. 

“The food will be ready soon,” he reassures, “besides, she was just telling me all about a soup that I must try my hand at next year.”

Tartaglia groans dramatically and leans all his weight against Zhongli in response. 

—

Night falls, and Childe finds himself lighting the fireplace in the room they stay in upstairs, letting the flames embrace the room in an auburn glow. His siblings are tucked in and finally quiet after Zhongli’s endless stories of Liyue. His mother had turned in an hour earlier after smothering the two in kisses, and the couple had stayed in the kitchen for a bit sipping wine and conversing in the moonlight. After downing a good amount and feeling a light buzz through their systems, they called it a night and headed upstairs, pinkies linked as always. 

But Zhongli was off during the entire conversation. It may have seemed like he was himself to an outsider, but Tartaglia knew better. He knew when his husband was somewhere else. He had seen it too many times before.

So later, when Zhongli finds himself sitting on their windowsill rather melancholic, watching the snow fall, Childe regards him with a careful stare. The ex-Archon eyes the way the snow falls so tenderly yet so purposefully, as if they all held a secret that even an ancient being like him didn’t understand. He shivers at the cold that seeps in through the windows and kisses his fingertips where they meet the glass, and cradles his hand back to his chest slowly. 

“Zhongli,” Childe calls. The said man turns from the window, eyes bright and oddly wet. Oh, Childe knows that look. “C’mere,” he beckons. Zhongli obeys and pads over to where his husband is situated on their bed. He crawls onto the mattress next to him and slumps against the headboard, still deep in his thoughts. 

The Harbinger looks at him with concern and squirms over to where Zhongli sits. He uses his chest as a pillow, wrapping his arms around a lithe waist and tucking his nose in the crook of his neck. He breathes deeply the mature scent of silk flowers and feels his heart thump happily in his chest. Childe stays quiet for a moment, and allows himself to focus on the rise and fall of his sturdy chest. Zhongli runs the length of his palm up and down Tartaglia’s side as he ponders.

Childe decides to break the silence before he falls asleep. “What’s wrong?” he asks quietly, voice barely above a whisper. Zhongli’s hand comes up to his hair and scratches at his scalp the way he knows Childe likes it. 

“Nothing. I am just… thinking.” His voice trails off pensively.

“Hmm. As usual,” he hums, “what about?” Childe prods gently, knowing there’s a fifty-fifty chance his husband will indulge him.

He’s quiet for a moment. Far too quiet. Childe wonders if he should drop the subject.

“Xiao, actually,” he says suddenly. “I am thinking of Xiao.”

“Xiao,” Childe parrots, confused as to why the legendary adeptus lingers in his beloved’s head at a time like this.

Zhongli sighs, and his shoulders hunch forward, eyebrows furrowing in mild discomfort. “Whenever I am with you, I cannot help but think of him.”

Childe’s eyebrows shoot up to his forehead. “Elaborate?” He’s only mildly offended, but he jests nonetheless in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

Zhongli chuckles and pushes a thumb between Childe’s frown. “Not like that. You know there’s no one in my heart except you. Besides, he’s like… family to me. I simply care deeply for his well being.”

Childe offers a wry smile. He knows, he’s just teasing. “So what’s wrong?”

“When I’m with you, I feel happy,” his eyes are fixated on the ceiling as he speaks. Childe, on the other hand, can’t look anywhere but at him. And although he speaks of his happiness, there are deep waves of sorrow rolling off of him. Zhongli’s makeup had washed off when he took a steaming shower, leaving Tartaglia to see the dark circles under his eyes and the faint wrinkles underneath. The light in his eyes had dulled without the bold presence of his usual red eyeliner, and it seemed as though his face appeared more sunken in when the light hit him at a certain angle. 

Childe’s heart pangs in his chest. Sometimes, his husband really looks his age.

“When I’m with you, I forget all my troubles. My burdens are made lighter simply by your presence. I forget what it felt like to be a part of the Archon War, or what it was like having so much blood on my hands. When I’m with you, I forget all of that. And I am happy.” Zhongli’s tone of  voice certainly does not match the topic he speaks of.

Still, Childe gulps. The ex-Archon can be too sappy for his own good, he might have a heart attack.

“Xiao, on the other hand, carries burdens almost heavier than mine,” he speaks as if it were an irrefutable fact. Although Childe wants to protest, he allows him to continue. “Millennia of suffering. Centuries of torture. Generations worth of karma building up on his plate. And he has no one he can turn to to help him forget; no one to help him bear it. Xiao is… alone.” His voice cracks pathetically.

Ah. 

The wind turns colder. There’s a chill that goes through the room, and it seeps into Childe’s bones. The Harbinger’s eyes dart to the fireplace, almost accusing it of not doing its job. He’s mildly aware of the new presence outside of the window that reeks of karma and a heavy heart. The tidal waves of grief and remorse spill into the room, and Tartaglia almost wants to wave a hand in front of his face to waft the energy away. Nevertheless, Childe dismisses it knowing that it is harmless, and turns all of his attention on his partner. 

“What about that traveler,” Childe offers, “Xiao seems to be fixated on him.” 

Zhongli shakes his head. “Young Traveler is far too free spirited for that, and Xiao is the type to only give his heart when he is certain that the source is stable and everlasting.”

Childe nods in understanding. He’s the same way, after all. “He was right to give his heart to you.”

“And yet I betrayed him, did I not?” Zhongli asks.

Childe frowns once again. He wills his voice to not sound too accusing when he asks, “In what way?” 

Zhongli waves his free hand in the air, trying his best to convey the emotions that had been eating at him all evening. 

“I am here, parading away with my husband while he still watches over Liyue per my request. Even though our contract ended, he still persists. He still fights the demons of the gods I slayed myself. He still is trapped by the shackles of Liyue, cleaning up my mess, worshipping my name, while I lay here wondering if I want coffee or tea when the sun rises.” 

His voice wavers. Childe’s heart tugs. The Harbinger shuffles closer and squeezes him tighter. 

“I can’t help but feel as though I am responsible for his suffering. I am the one who summoned him, am I not? The fierce Yakshas… oh how truly amazing they were,” Zhongli rambles, fingers tightening their hold on Childe. “And now they are all…”

“Zhongli.” He cuts him off sternly. The man in question shakes out his reverie, glassy amber eyes meeting cerulean. Childe brings a hand to his cheek to caress the sinfully soft skin there. The ginger leans in, pressing his forehead against his temple and pleads.

“Stop,” he whispers, and then his hand finds purchase on his husband’s neck. “Stop.” 

“I am not worthy of it any longer, Ajax,” Zhongli’s voice warbles, “all I want is for Young Xiao to rest and finally find peace. I no longer want him to have nightmares, asleep or not. I want to be the one to be rid of his burdens. I want him to be happy, Ajax, I want—“

“No,” Childe interrupts again, “there is nothing you can do, my love. And I’m so sorry you feel that way. I truly am. But his suffering has nothing to do with you anymore. Xiao looks up to you—“

“But he shouldn’t.” 

“Xiao looks up to you,” he persists, “for a reason. He adores you, okay? No matter what you do. No matter what you say. No matter how you look. Even if you’re skin and bone and wrinkly with gray hair, Xiao would still admire you. Your strength has withstood the test of time, and so has his loyalty to you.” He brushes a stray hair from Zhongli’s face and continues.

“You were the one that saved him. Have you ever thought of that, old man? You saved him and named him. I mean, if someone were to pull me out of the abyss and give me a hug for god’s sake, I probably would have turned out different,” Zhongli’s eyes soften even more, but Childe refuses to make this about him. He thumps a fist against Zhongli’s chest in mock petulance. “Xiao respects you because you deserve it. It is as simple as that.”

Zhongli is quiet, pondering, so Tartaglia takes that as an invitation to continue. 

“You have served your time bearing your burdens. You have saved souls and you have killed your own share of demons, and you fought to get where you are now. You deserve a break, Zhongli. And you don’t need to feel guilty that someone out there hasn’t been liberated of their own issues. You of all people understand Xiao’s strength. Probably more than Xiao himself, right? So have faith in him, Xiansheng. And know that you don’t have to carry the burden of freedom on your own. Burdens are meant to be shared, and I’m your husband, remember?”

“Oh, how could I forget,” Zhongli chuckles as he jests. His voice still warbles, but Tartaglia will take what he can get. Childe pinches his cheek playfully. 

“Sooo,” Childe trails off, running a finger down the length of Zhongli’s pale neck. “With that being said, I think you should enjoy the time you have now, with me, instead of reminiscing about the past.”

Zhongli nods. 

“After all, I won’t be here forever-”

“Do not.” Zhongli interrupts, looking away. His chest stops fluctuating, and it takes a moment for Childe to realize he was holding his breath. And just like that, his defensive wall is back up again. Tartaglia looks at him with wide eyes. Obviously he had struck a chord he hadn’t meant to. The grip Zhongli had around the back of his neck tightened like he meant to keep him close to his chest forever; greedy, selfish hands continue to grasp at the back of his shirt.

“Oh,” Tartaglia breathes, “I’m sorry, I was just joking.”

“I know,” Zhongli all but whimpers, “but my brain doesn’t exactly register those kinds of things as jokes.”

Tartaglia nods, unsure of what else to say. So, he ditches the thought of saying anything, and lifts a deft finger to tilt Zhongli’s face back to him. He abandons his words and leans in instead. He captures his God’s lips with his own and presses close, desperate to show him that he’s there. Tartaglia’s alive and well and very much in love, and he’s there. He’s not going anywhere; he wouldn’t even dare to think about going anywhere. Their marriage was more than a contract, it was a covenant. The vows that were sworn on that night kept them glued together, and only ‘til death do they part. 

Well, until Ajax’s death, at least.

The thought makes Tartaglia’s head pound, and he shakes the thoughts away with determination.

“I’m here,” he reassures anyway when they part, kiss-bruised lips brush against his cheek as he speaks. “Let me prove it to you.”

Zhongli nods wordlessly, cupping Childe’s face with one hand and dragging the Harbinger onto his lap with the other. They press against each other, nice and close, so that one would not be able to decipher where one began and the other ended. 

“I love you,” Tartaglia confesses into the dark, breathless. Zhongli drags him impossibly closer. 

Xiao takes that as his cue to leave, the wind chill harsh and no longer gentle as he vanishes into thin air.

--

A/N: Okayy I’m gonna get a little serious in the end notes hehe so if you wanna skip out on that, thank you so much for reading! And I hope you have a wonderful week :) find me on twitter @/xiaoscribbles and AO3 @/unironicallynapping

I wanted to write this because I’ve been on my own journey to recovery lately. My family suffered many losses in 2020 and since then, I had been struggling to get back on path and find a healthy mindset. But there’s a passage that I read in a book I’ve been reading that covers the guilt we sometimes feel when we recover, knowing and know that there’s someone out there who is suffering, too. The guilt can become unbearable, but it doesn’t need to be felt. You can take your feelings of guilt and turn it into something good. You can enjoy the life of recovery you’re living while still being there for those who need it. You can show someone you love them while also reveling in the happiness that you deserve. You don’t need to feel like you don’t deserve it just because you recovered, and someone else hasn’t. Everyone is on their own path, so rejoice in the fact that you’ve made it to your own happiness! 

I hope this fic/message spoke to some of you. It’s a really important message to me, and I just wanted to share :)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crossing the Line

This is a sequel to Fine Line

Warnings: non/dubcon elements, rough sex, violence, anal sex, oral, multiple partners.

This is dark!Bucky Barnes and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: You return from your mission with Bucky finding your relationship with Steve strained.

As Bucky slept on his cot, you found the strength to crawl over to your bag and dig out a knife. You sawed through the laces around your wrists, resigned to having a loose shoe. You’d just wear your boots instead. You took your gear and crept to the small washroom. You stood in the tight shower for close to an hour before getting out. You dressed, rubbed dry your hair, and slipped into your boots. You paused before passing back into the small common area. Your heart was pounding.

A twinge of pain went through your pelvis as you entered the main room. Bucky was sat up on his cot, drinking coffee from a small metal cup. You ignored him as you pulled on your jacket and strapped on a gun and knife. You were tempted to turn them on him but he was ever vigilant. You could feel his eyes following your every move. Besides, how would you explain that to Tony? Or Steve? 

Your heart sank as you tucked your gloves in your pocket and bent to fold your cot. You wanted to turn around and tell him to look somewhere else, but at the same time, you didn’t want to acknowledge his presence. You were ashamed; scared, even.

“So,” His voice cut the early morning silence, “You going on a lone mission then? You really must be suicidal.”

You leaned the folded cot against the wall and turned to him slowly, hands on your hips. “You gonna stop dragging your ass?” You challenged, “All you’ve done is sit on that damn cot and harp the last two days.”

“That’s not all I’ve done,” He stood, lording over you as he neared, “Not really sure how you’re gonna fend off the dealer’s goons when you couldn’t keep me away.”

You pulled your knife the moment he stepped close enough to grab you. The blade was at his throat in an instant. “You won’t catch me off-guard again,” You warned, “So, we’re finishing this mission today or you can stay and do it yourself.”

He chuckled and you saw his metal fingers ball into a fist from the corner of your eye. “Put your little knife away,” He slowly retreated, “I think I got my point across clear enough last night.”

You slowly lowered the knife as he backed away. You watched as he casually went about readying himself. Your nostrils flared as you were annoyed by how slow he was moving; how deliberately he was doing everything. You sheathed your knife and grabbed your bag. You stomped out to the car and tossed it in the trunk. You sat heavily in the front seat to wait.

You gripped the steering and hung your head forward as you tried to ward of visions of the night before. Unwanted sensations inspired by the memory. What were you going to tell Steve? Were you going to tell him? You leaned back and sighed. No, there was nothing left with Steve. Not now. He had left you there all alone. Every time you thought of him, you would think of Bucky and that hurt most of all.

-

Mission complete. Never had those words been so painful. The drive home was the worst torture of all. You drove as Bucky stretched out in the back, his boots tucked irritatingly behind your headrest. Everything he did annoyed you; other times it made you flinch. It was easy enough to guess that he was doing it all on purpose. He had even gone so far as to pinch your ass as you were reporting back to Tony on the phone. You’d almost tossed the cell at him but kept your focus on your work.

It was a relief to be free. You slammed the door and retrieved your bag swiftly, evading Bucky as he kept his cool pace. You said nothing as you slipped away, almost running up the stairs from the garage to the compound. You just wanted to be alone. You didn’t want to talk to anyone, you just needed to stop. Lay down and stop thinking. Fade away.

That wasn’t to be. As you laid face down on your bed, your boots and jacket disposed beside the bed, a knock sounded at the door. You didn’t answer. You put your arm up over your head and hid beneath the pillow. Another knock. Finally, the door clicked open and you shot up; suddenly fearful that your tormentor had come for second assault. It was Steve. He looked shocked as your hand went to your waist in search of the knife that wasn’t there.

“Y/N,” He said, “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” You fell back, “Trying to sleep.”

“Tough mission?” He asked as he sat on the edge of the mattress behind your legs. You didn’t answer. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I’m tired,” You replied bluntly and crossed your arms.

“Oh, okay,” He shifted his weight on the bed, “Maybe I’ll just come back later.” He touched your hip and you spun back, sitting up sharply as you shoved him away.

“Maybe don’t come back at all,” You snapped.

“What? What’s wrong with you?” He tried to catch your hand as you pushed his shoulder a second time.

“I--Me and you, we shouldn’t be doing this anymore,” You drew away before he could touch you again, “It’s not professional.”

“Oh, come on, Nat and Bruce used--”

“And Wanda and Vis, I know,” You interrupted, “We’re not like them. It’s just sex.”

“Is it?” He lifted a brow. You stared at him grimly; quietly as you fended off thoughts of Bucky.

“I can’t,” You croaked, “Not anymore. You’ve got other friends.”

“Is this about Bucky?” He reached out again and you were unable to keep his hand from yours. “What happened?”

You stared at him. You weren’t going to tell him. Couldn’t. And yet you wanted to. But he’d never believe you. Bucky was untouchable; his oldest friend, kindred spirit. You were just some girl. Even if you did confess, what would he think?

“Why don’t you ask him what happened?” You hissed in a low whisper and ripped your hand away from hs. “Perfect little shithead can’t do any wrong.” You rolled to the other side of the bed and onto your feet, “Go. Go ask him what happened.” You were suddenly filled with rage; you could feel Bucky’s arm around your neck, his weight on your body. “Ask him what he did!”

Steve rose slowly. He was visibly shocked as he watched your madness take over. There were tears in your eyes. When had those started? You charged to the door and opened it sharply. “Go. Go see your friend.” You jabbed your finger out the door, “And don’t come back to me.” He approached you; ready to plead. “Ever.”

You stared him down until he left. He could find no words as you seethed towards him. You didn’t know why you were suddenly angry with him, you just were. If he hadn’t left you, it wouldn’t have happened. He had to be the good soldier; had to go off on some other more important mission. More important than you. Than your safety.

He had just been another mistake.

-

It was three days of peace. By the third, you had grown suspicious. Steve was a resilient person. He had never been one to just back off. Yet he had let you stew; let you mope in your room as you avoided most people in the compound. Fortunately, in your few sojourns from your room, you had yet to meet with Bucky again. It reassured you that he was done with you. That he had truly ‘gotten his point across’. Truly, he had.

You were in the shared kitchen alone. You had waited for the morning rush to subside before you set about making your toast and poached eggs. As you pulled out a saucepan, you heard footsteps approaching. Shit. Someone else must have had the same idea. You turned as Steve entered and your shoulders dropped. Of course. You were ready to put the pot back and return to your room, but he wasn’t alone. Bucky followed, his blue eyes predatory as he spotted you.

“You can’t avoid me forever,” Steve leaned on the counter, only a few feet away. Bucky was in the doorway; there was no escape. You blinked, saying nothing as you turned to fill the saucepan with water from the tap. “Come on, you gotta talk to me.”

You sighed and slammed down the pot, splashing yourself with water. “Did you talk to him? Did you ask him what he did?” You looked between them. Bucky was grinning. “Did he tell you?”

Steve looked down, his long lashes shrouded his bright eyes as he thought. “He did,” He raised his head. You waited for him to say more but he just stared at you.

“And?” You crossed your arms. “You’re not going to say anything? Do anything?” You shot a vicious sneer in Bucky’s direction, “Don’t tell me he’s here to apologize, Steve. There’s no sorry big enough for that.”

Bucky scoffed and Steve’s face remained placid. “You shouldn’t have antagonized him.”

“What?” You spat. “Me? I--”

“The whole mission, you just kept poking and poking,” Steve interjected, “What did you expect?”

“Steve! He--he…” You looked between them, shock and repulsion slithered up your spine. “You’re disgusting! Both of you.” You left the saucepan as it was, half-filled in a puddle of water and stomped across the kitchen. Bucky squared his shoulders as you neared. “Get out of my way.”

His eyes flashed and he smirked down at you. You were ready to fight your way out if you needed to. Steve’s voice kept you from raising your fists. “Let her go, Buck.” He sounded exasperated. Bucky shook his head but relented. He raised his hands defenselessly and sidestepped you, leaving the door open. You marched from the kitchen, barely able to keep yourself from running.

-

For the next two weeks, you only saw Steve and Bucky in passing. You signed on for any mission with Natasha or Sam, trading off for any that involved the super soldier. It seemed your active evasion hadn’t gone unnoticed. Tony was a smart man and you knew he’d eventually catch on. So it was that you were sat in his office across from him. The dread which had become your normalcy hovered over you.

“So, you and Steve,” He began, “That didn’t turn out so well, did it?”

“I...It wasn’t anything,” You said grimly, “Really. It was...stupid.”

“I don’t have a problem with agents getting involved. There’s really no avoiding it but once it starts to affect your work, that’s an issue,” He leaned back in his chair, clicking a pen as he spoke, “I’ve already had a chat with him. He says he’s cool; seems as much. But you,” He pointed the pen at you, “Trading off assignments, locking yourself up.”

“I do my job and I do it well,” You asserted staunchly, “What does it matter what missions I take?”

“Because there is a reason I give you the ones I do, Y/N. You’re the least messy of all my agents and I value that but… I can’t really say that anymore.” He tossed the pen on the desk, “You and Steve need to sort this shit out.”

You nodded and swallowed your retort. Of course, Steve could pass it off like you were overly attached woman. Scorned and vengeful. The first Avenger could do no wrong. Wasn’t he the captain of morality? He deemed what was right and wrong. You chewed your lip before you answered, holding back the maelstrom of resent and rage. “I understand, Tony. I’ll take the missions I’m assigned.”

“And talk to Steve?” He urged.

You looked to his door with a sigh. “If it is necessary for the task at hand, I will.”

“Y/N,” Tony warned.

“What is it, Tony?” You turned back to him. “You want me to quit? I’m a professional, I do my job and I do it well. Say what you will about me tossing around missions, I’ve still completed every one I’ve taken. My relationship with Steve, or lack thereof, is not necessary to my work.”

“Can you at least be civil? Maybe pop in on my next party? You do have other friends here?” His voice softened as he leaned forward, “Friends who care.”

“Alright, Tony,” You smiled, just a little. “Thanks.”

“Take care of yourself,” He said kindly, “If you need some time off…”

“I’m good, Tony,” You stood with a sigh, “You should take your own advice.” You looked at the clock just behind him. “Pepper would love that.”

He checked his watch and blanched. “Shit,” He stood, “I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“What is time to Tony Stark?” You mused as you pulled the door open.

“A human construct designed to make my life miserable,” He growled as he followed you to the door, “Have a good one, Y/N.” He pulled his office door shut behind him. “Oh, and please corroborate my story when I tell Pepper I was stuck in traffic.”

“Of course, you left an hour ago, I don’t know how you’re not home yet,” You smirked. “See ya, Tony.”

You watched him go before heading off down the hallway yourself. Eventually you would have to deal with this whole super soldier stand off but for now, you were going to get some sleep. Or try to. It hadn’t come easy in the weeks following that singular mission. When you did doze, you often awoke in a sweat, searching the dark for Bucky’s sinister blue eyes. Longing for the days before when you and Steve had been at peace. You did miss him, you just couldn’t be with him. Not after that.

You stretched an arm over your head as you pushed into your room, freezing as you met an unexpected visitor. Steve sat at the foot of your bed. His face was expectant; stony. No hint of his usual smile. He was here for a reason. Still, you weren’t ready. You spun on your heel and the door slammed shut. Bucky planted himself in front of it. You hadn’t seen him in the corner; or heard him. Your blood turned cold.

You grabbed the knife from your hip; a new safeguard for your paranoia. Steve was up and on you in a second, he held your arm straight before you could strike out at Bucky. He squeezed your wrist until you were forced to let go. You snapped your head up and back into Steve’s chin and kicked out at Bucky, catching him in the stomach. You turned and shoved past Steve, crawling across the bed as you reached for the drawer of your night table. It slid open with a grind and you searched inside frantically.

“Looking for this,” You heard the click of the pistol as Bucky spoke, “We got the taser too.”

A hand latched onto your ankle and pulled you back. You were flipped onto your back. Bucky had the gun pointed at you as Steve dragged you to the end of the bed. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He was pissed. You kicked out with your free leg and he batted it away. As he released you and tried to grab your wrist, you jabbed at his throat and the cool muzzle of your own pistol was pressed to your temple.

“Now, now, this isn’t a very fair fight,” Bucky snarled. “Steve,” He nodded to the other super soldier as he wiped the blood from his mouth. “Let’s get started.”

You watched as Steve unzipped the black duffel atop your dresser. You had been foolish. You hadn’t been vigilant enough when you entered. You had missed it all. The signs were all around. Steve pulled out a bundle of leather straps and grabbed your wrist, dragging you up to the top of the bed..

“Face up or down?” He asked thoughtfully as he placed your wrist next to the bedpost and set the ties on the night table. “She’s got a great ass.”

“Face up for now, I guess,” Bucky shrugged as he tilted his head and kept the gun level.

You stared up at Steve as he took your wrist and tugged it to the post, winding the leather around both. “Please, Steve, don’t,” You begged softly, “Why are you doing this?” He ignored you as he secured your wrist and walked the length of the bed, pulling you flat as he lined up your ankle to the bottom post. He tied that too as your heart hammered and your ears begin to ring in fear. “Please, stop!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Bucky spat. He shook his head as he crossed to the dresser and set down the gun. He pulled forth a black ball gag and approached you as Steve worked at tying your other ankle. You pressed your lips together but he forced the ball into you mouth and buckled the leather strap as tight as it would go. “Annoying little bitch, isn’t she?”

“You know, Buck, it wouldn’t have been such a clusterfuck if you had just listened to me,” Steve bound your other wrist as he spoke. “If you had just been nice, she would’ve gone along with it, eventually.”

“I just couldn’t,” He growled, “She’s fucking irritating.”

“Still, you could’ve been a little more patient,” Steve crossed to the duffel and pulled out a pair of scissors. Bucky stopped him and took them from him.

“Well, Steve, you always did have the patience of a saint,” Bucky crossed to the bed and leaned a knee on the mattress as he positioned the scissors at hem of your sleeve. He began to cut along the seam. “I like her better like this.” He smirked as you watched him. “Silent.”

You shook your head, the panic rising in your stomach and flooding your chest. You could only make small grunts past the gag, the feeling of helplessness was overwhelming. Bucky continued to cut your clothing, peeling it away one piece at a time. When you were down to only your panties and bra, you closed your eyes. You were sure you were about to pass out as you began to hyperventilate around the ball.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” Steve was beside you, touching your cheek, “We just want a little fun.” His breath was hot as he spoke in your ear, “If you’re good, no one gets hurt.” Your eyes snapped open and he shared a conspiratorial look, “Well, not too hurt.”

Bucky pulled away your bra and you shivered. Your nipples were hard in the cool air of your room. As he snipped away the sides of your panties, he chuckled. He chucked the sliced fabric over to Steve when he was done. Steve held up the cotton, a wet spot along the crotch. “See, it’s not so bad.”

Bucky’s metal hand probed between your legs. He delved between your folds and poked at your entrance. You could feel your arousal as it coated his fingers. He paused and looked up at Steve. “Have you tried her ass yet?”

“I was working up to that,” Steve reached over to play with your tit, pinching your nipple playfully. “Like I said, you should’ve been patient.”

“Fuck patience,” Bucky shoved his fingers inside of you suddenly and your body strained against your binds. “I like a virgin asshole anyway.”

“And who says you get lead on that?” Steve challenged.

“Hey, you got first go at her pussy,” Bucky got down on his elbows, his knees on the end of the bed as he watched himself stretch your walls with his fingers. “Still fucking tight though. She wasn’t…”

“No, not a virgin,” Steve answered, “How many was it?” He turned to you, “Two or three?” He blinked and shrugged as you gave him no response. “I don’t know, something like that.”

“Hmm, I would’ve thought more,” Bucky grazed his thumb over your clit and you squirmed. “Very responsive.”

“You don’t even know,” Steve grinned as he bent his head to your chest, “Fuck, down in Panama...wasn’t that fun?” He asked you again even though you couldn’t answer. “Had her in the back of the car.” His lips closed around your nipple and he began to suck, his hand toying with your other tit.

“How’s her mouth?” Bucky sat back, removing his fingers with a squelch. “Is it worth it to remove the gag?”

“Oh, she’s good,” Steve lifted his head, circling his tongue around your nipple between words, “Swallows too.” You were on fire. The humiliation of Steve’s words, the memories, and the unwanted thrill of their touch had you encased in flames. “Not really a big deal. Walls are thick and Nat and Wanda said they’d probably just crash at a hotel.” He reached up to unbuckle the gag. “Sam’s on the other side of the compound and Vis is off on one of Tony’s errands for the weekend.”

“I’m not so worried about others hearing,” Bucky stood and began to undress. His tee was quickly tossed aside and his belt buckle made your heart stutter. “Just having to hear her.”

“You won’t scream, will you, baby?” Steve asked as he loosed the strap, “I’d hate to have to hurt you...haven’t I always been so nice to you? So gentle?” You glared at him and the moment he pulled the gag out you hollered.

“Steve, get away from her.” Bucly ordered and Steve stood swiftly. Bucky came around, pants undone, your taser in hand, and poked the prongs into your side. A blinding zap had you quiet and still. “Try it again and I'll really make you sing.” He warned and backed away.

Steve looked down at you with disappointment on his face. He joined Bucky in shedding his clothes as he spoke. “I told you, it can be easy. You just have to co-operate.”

“Fuck you,” You hissed through gritted teeth.  Your muscles were still tight from the jolt.

Steve dropped his shoulders and moved away, unzipping his jeans as he did. Bucky came before you and stepped up onto the bed. He was naked and erect. You tugged at the binds on your arms though you knew it was futile. He climbed over you, lowering himself so that his knees were on either side of your head. His metal hand closed around your throat and he leaned forward to push his cock against your lips. You shot one last vicious glance at Steve, opening your mouth with a silent curse.

“Don't even think of biting me or I'll knock those teeth out myself,” Bucky barked as he forced himself deeper.

His metal fingers went to your hair and pulled your head back to ease his entrance. Steve moved out of your sight and you felt the bed jostle. His hands went up your legs and you tried to twist your hips away from him. He spread his hand over your pelvis, his thumb on your clit as he began to rub firmly. You choked and twitched as Bucky went deeper into your throat and Steve played with your bud.

Bucky pulled out and thrust back in, making sharp jabs into your throat. As you gagged he only seemed to relish in your struggle, his pace growing more steady as he started to fuck your face. You did your best to relax your throat, the spit choking you as it caught there.

Steve's hand slid down, his thumb swirling on your clit as he moved closer. You felt his cock as he lined up with your entrance, his thighs against yours. He pushed inside and you cringed at how familiar he felt. He never stopped toying with your clit as he soon matched Bucky's pace in his thrusts. Their grunts rose around you and made the air even harder to breath.

You felt Steve’s thick fingers digging into your hips as your muscles began to buzz. Your orgasm was coming and he could tell. He had often grasped you just like that as you came. Before, however, you had been in on it. This time, your climax was wrenched from you. You were only able to spasm around Steve’s cock as Bucky fucked your face.

“Mmm,” Bucky grunted and dipped deep into your throat. The warmth spilled from him and down your throat as you struggled not to choke. You swallowed, having no other choice, and he shivered at the contraction of your throat. He pulled out slowly, your spit and his cum dripping down across your lips as he stood.

You gasped, your throat burned with each breath. “What do you know? Her mouth is good for something.” Bucky climbed off the bed as Steve kept fucking you, his thrusts hurt as your pussy throbbed. You closed your eyes and gripped the leather straps restraining your wrists. His pace stuttered and he pushed himself as deep as he could go. You felt him cum inside of you, your entire being shattered. You had always told him not to do that. Well, he wasn’t doing what you wanted now.

“Hurry up and get off of her,” Bucky snarled, “We gotta flip her.”

“Jesus,” Steve rolled his hips, moaning at the sensation it sent through him, “Let me fucking enjoy this a little.”

Steve slowly pulled out and you felt the gush of his cum as it flowed from you. You held in a whine as you noticed that neither of them had softened. They were both just as hard as before. Steve neared your head and began to untie the strap at your wrist, “Now, don’t try anything stupid.”

“Steve, please,” You begged through your scratchy throat, “Isn’t it enough?”

Bucky came up on your other side and smacked you across the face. Your head jarred to the side and you felt the tear at the corner of your lips. “No talking.” The worked in tandem, Bucky at your ankles and Steve at your wrists to turn you over, holding strap taut to keep you from escaping. You had little strength left as they tied you on your stomach. You dropped your head so that your face was crushed against the pillows. You hated feeling so weak; so helpless.

You felt one of them between your legs, his hands told you which. The cold vibranium and warm flesh made you tense as Bucky pulled your ass apart. His metal finger slid down and circled your hole, pressing inside as you squeaked. 

“Fuck man, at least use some lube,” Steve grumbled. You felt a cool bottle land on the mattress and bounce against your leg.

Bucky sighed, “Fine,” He grabbed the bottle and opened it with his other hand. You felt the cold liquid seep around his finger as he worked it in and out of your ass. The burning stretch of it was overwhelming. When he added a second finger your head shot up and you whimpered.

“Please, stop,” You pleaded.

He shoved his fingers in all the way and you cried out through your teeth. “I said shut up.” He snarled. You bit your lip and he carried on. You were even more troubled when he removed his fingers and the bed shift. His knees were against your thighs as he lined himself up. You let your head fall as you felt him at your hole, his thick head already felt like too much. As he pushed inside, you bit the pillow and dug your nails into your own palms.

“Shit,” He had only the tip in as he pulled back out. “She’s fucking tight.” He slapped your ass with his metal hand. “Relax. It might actually feel good if you do.”

“He’s right,” Steve said from behind you. You could guess that he was standing back to watch the show.

Bucky’s cock pushed back in and this time he kept going. A little at the time though it felt like twice as much. He held your ass apart as he eased inside of you. When at last he bottomed out, your tears and spit had soaked the pillow case. You were panting and he stopped for just a moment to exhale deeply.

“She’s starting to grow on me,” Bucky chuckled, “She definitely feels nice.” He pulled out and thrust back in. “Fuck.” He carried his motion; slow at first though it burned just the same. His hands went to your hips and he held you down, all his weight on you as he picked up his pace. He was deliberate, a pause between each thrust which had him slamming into your ass. His flesh slapped in a steady beat against yours. You were trembling as he ignored your whimpers.

He pulled out and you felt his cum splatter over your ass, mixing with the lube as it trickled down to your pussy. He climbed off the bed and gave a deep sigh. The bed continued to move as Steve climbed up, straight to the point as he lined himself up at your hole. You tugged on your binds desperately. You just wanted it to end. He entered you and gave a deep grunt. He sounded so unlike himself; so animalistic.

That was when the tears stopped. You went limp against the straps holding you prone and the orgasm built; this one so foreign; so new; so intense. It replaced all pain and humiliation and you drowned your moans in the pillow. Your entire being was on fire as you came beneath the super soldier. He was over you in a semi-push up as he fucked you, his cock stretching you further. He lowered himself so that he rested on your back, rocking his hip as he sped up.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, babe,” He whispered.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” You rasped as you turned your head, your last act of defiance. “Ever!”

You felt the same heat as before. He burst within you and you closed your eyes. He stayed inside as he stilled himself, his weight adding to the pressure as he panted on top of you. He lifted himself carefully, pulling out with a pinch on your ass. You could feel him sitting at the foot of the bed as he caught his breath.

“You want another go?” He asked Bucky. 

No answer came as you already felt the mattress dipping. You closed your eyes and sank into the bed in surrender. It would be over...eventually.

[thecreativeangel]

aut neca aut necare: VI

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

*Please don’t plagiarize my work, thank you :3*

Summary: You try once more to apologize to Peter (not successfully) and Spiderman thinks it’s a good idea to bring up your family. 

Warnings: A hoe needs D E P R E S S O

Words: 3.1k wow i need a life

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“Hi Peter. Sorry I got in a completely meaningless fight with you and brought up the death of your parents. We're cool, right?”

Yeah, that wasn't going to pass. You stared with half bleary eyes at the phone in your hand, a paragraph long text message highlighted in blue, about to be deleted. This was the fifth…sixth? Sixth attempt at an astounding apology that would make Peter so emotional he’d forgive you in an instant. So far, everything you wrote turned out to be shit. Every text was too long, too pathetic and clingy. And it became apparent to you that as of recently, your texts to Peter had to be perfect. Even before the fight you’d been double checking the spelling, triple checking to make sure there weren’t too many emojis.

Is adding a period too formal? Too strict? And yes, you knew very well why you were acting like this but refused to say it out loud.

After huffing through your nose, you pressed delete and half an hour’s worth of typing was gone. The sound of heavy boats cutting through water was really helping right then, to calm nerves and such. You closed your eyes and dangled your feet over the side of the warehouse. The tracker you'd put on one of Kim’s “henchmen” (could a high school student really have henchmen?) had been still for two hours now, and the video you could get on your phone was of the spider-tracker crawling up and down a man’s pant leg. The doors were locked. The live feed was silent, save for the man pacing; he was alone.

A boat horn rang through the night air, startling a cat that was sleeping on the fence down below. That reminds me, you thought. Haven't gone to Delmar’s in a while. Your phone screen’s light illuminated your face, the blank text box ever present. Okay, go simple. Don't be a dumbass. Straight to the point. I've got this. Your fingers moved nimbly by themselves, typing out the shortest thing you could think of.

“‘I'm sorry’ isn't enough right now, I know. See you at school.”

You hit send and watched the text until “delivered” appeared in small blue letters right below. Was that too up front? Probably. Was he going to forgive you because of one text, no matter how long? No. Never. You looked up at the stars and sighed, feeling a cold gust of wind flow past your cheeks. With the mask off, details about your surroundings were more clear. Everything was in high definition, but that made it hard to focus. Spidey was right; your senses were dialed up to 11, too much input and not enough capacity for storage.

Looking back down at your phone, you saw that “delivered” had changed to “read”.

Peter already saw what you wrote. He didn't bother to reply.

You made a high pitched scream at the back of your throat, frustration and shame warming your cold cheeks. I’m an idiot! Of course he still hates me- I brought up his fucking dead parents! I was the first person he opened up to after they died, and now I’ve gone and fucked up. You kicked your legs over the side of the warehouse and laid spread angled on the tin roof. This was the warehouse you’d been visiting for a few days now. Almost a week. It was only half a mile from where you saw the tall grey alien talk to Kimberly and her bosses. Sure, you should be more careful than texting while hunting down dangerous criminals, but after a few days of spending nightly hours on the roof, it had grown boring. Tame. The giant garage door was locked and from a tiny crack in the wall you only saw a giant, empty warehouse.

You were close to giving up when a car pulled into the alley on your side of the roof. A boy stepped out, loudly smacking on gum and locking the car equally loudly. Still laying down, you peeked over the side of the roof. He, a younger kid, by the sound of it, was with a girl. She talked quickly, nervously. A lazy grin slid across your face; Kimberly was never good at whispering.

“Spit that shit out before I make you,” she finally snapped. You heard a “whooey” sound and a wet splat, meaning he did as told.

“It calms me down,” he explained serenely, as if appeasing a toddler. “Maybe you should try it, since you’re so worked up. Maybe you’ll stop annoying dad all the time.”

The garage doors slid up, rumbling so badly you felt the tremors in your entire body. Their voices faded and before they did, you heard Kimberly retort: “Dad likes me better anyway.” So that’s Kim’s brother? The three menacing, scary hooded figures that talked to the grey alien were a...family? SERIOUSLY?

“Hey,” a voice hissed, poking your shoulder. On reflex, you blindly grabbed (an...arm?) and threw them away, fully prepared to then launch yourself at the target because if they wanted to fight then-

“Ow, what the fuck!” Spidey gasped, holding his bruised bicep.

“Shit- don’t sneak up on me like that!” you cried.

“Why-” he seemed to wince, rubbing the sore spot. “D’you always try an’ kill people when they do that?!”

“Well I was kind of in the middle of something!” you argued, glancing nervously over the ledge at the half dozen parked vans. “Friggin’ intense bad guy shit was happening and you just sneak up on me outta nowhere…”

“What’s intense is your grip,” Spidey murmured, rolling his shoulder. “Is that ‘cause of your powers or are you a gym rat?”

“Okay Mr. ‘I Can Stop A Moving Train’,” you said, putting a hand on your hip. "Not everyone knows how to control their strength.”

He snickered and plopped down on the ledge of the warehouse. “No seriously. Powers or its always been like that?”

“Uh…” you sat down next to him. “Powers I think. Dunno, I’ve always been able to slap a bitch who needs it.”

Spidey pouted under his mask. “Aww, am I your bitch?”

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from cackling. “Say that again, but slowly.”

“Am I y- oh,” he laughed awkwardly. “Whoops. Welp, guess this partnership is terminated. Nice knowing you, I’m going to go kill myself now.”

The boisterous laugh finally escaped your lips, all thoughts of Peter leaving your conscious. Spiderman made a gun with his hand, held it to the side of his head and jerked his thumb back as if pulling a trigger. “Now that my sidekick knows I’m an idiot, might as well drop being Spiderman, right?”

“Sidekick?” you managed to scoff between giggles. “Please. I’m the dominant one in this relationship.”

“Kinky.”

The tips of your ears suddenly felt hot. “S-shut up!”

Spidey laughed when you shoved his shoulder, rolling your eyes under your mask. “That’s not what I meant, dammit! I’m like the biggest virgin you’ll ever- Stop laughing!”

He kept doing so but somehow, you felt lighter than you’d been a few minutes ago. Free. Like a kid. Which was odd, because this was a nightly patrol and Kim was right below- “We need to get down there.”

The lighthearted aura was sucked from the air. “Huh?”

“I’m supposed to be down there! I was going to sneak in and- and now we’re talking about bullshit when we could be doing something!”

“Oh-kay crazy,” he dismissed you with a wave of his hand. “I called the police, they’ll be here in less than an hour. All we have to do is make sure they don’t leave the premises.”

You frowned inside your mask, thankful that it didn’t change to show facial expressions like his did. How could this superhero, especially one who was known to deviate from law enforcement, sit here and wait for people to do work for him? People who were defenseless unless they were armed with a weapon, no less. You impatiently tapped a gloved hand on your thigh, ears perking up to the muffled arguing that traveled up a nearby air vent.

“Go patrol the city,” Spidey suggested, tapping commands into the sensors on his wrist. “Better that than sitting here and doing nothing. I’ll call you if I need backu-”

“No way,” you said sternly. “I’m gonna kick their asses myself if they try to escape. Not leaving.”

“Don’t- you shouldn’t hurt them, they’re just doing their job,” he said finally, after at least five minutes of thick silence.

“They’re dangerous-”

“So are you,” he fired back. You drew away, fingers tightening around the ledge in surprise. He must have noticed the outburst was uncalled for because he released a shaky sigh. “So am I. We’re dangerous, you know that- right? Only difference between us and them is that we aren’t desperate enough to go into that line of work.”

You bristled at that. “That’s a damn big difference.”

“Not a hard line to cross, though,” Spidey noted, ceasing his tapping of instructions. “People do shit when they’re desperate. For money, for safety, for family…” he looked away from the skyline horizon and turned to you. “I’d do a lot for my family, more than I’d ever tell you about.”

“Well,” you said frankly. “That hurts a bit. Thanks, man.”

“You’ve been getting more...reckless,” he said, “The whole fiasco with the United Nations-”

“I told you that wasn’t me!”

Peter said the same thing, about the United Nations. About the little epic failure you achieved in one night. He was wrong, though; you were framed, it was synthetic smoke. Who was trying to make you Public Enemy #1? You didn’t know and it was killing you. Maybe I should tell Peter about this superhero gig. He could help me deal with it, I guess, you considered the notion. That’d be a huge chip off my shoulder. Too bad I was a complete dumbass and ruined the friendship with one stupid fucking offhand comment-

“Okay, say it wasn’t,” Spidey said patiently, drawing you out of the stream of furious thoughts. “But you stole from that jewelry store a while back.”

“I stopped a potential robbery!” you said defiantly. “He was an idiot for trying to steal at Fifth Avenue- who the hell does that? A-and I only took one little diamond-”

“‘One little diamond’?!”

“Whaaat?” you whined, looking down at your dangling legs guiltily.

“What would your parents think?” Spidey asked, probably expecting you to open up more. Probably raising an eyebrow under his stupid mask. Good luck with that, bud.

“Okay, okay,” you immediately dropped the playful tone. “I get it, that was bad. Let’s move on please.”

“No, c’mon,” he pressed. “Everyone thinks about their family when they do bad shit.”

Your lips were pursed in a thin line and you felt your head tilt in a small nod. He would get no other answer right away, but he sure did try. “Do you...not have a family?”

No response. “Shit, I’m sorry. I assumed-”

“I have a family,” you forced out, and it sounded so disgusting to say that you prayed you’d never have to say it again. Spiderman did this thing where he leaned forward and turned his upper body towards you, cocking his head down and waiting for a continuation. You huffed.

“It’s a complicated situation, webhead,” you lifted one leg onto the roof and pulled your knee to your chest, letting the other one dangle. “S’not a big family anyway, so at least it’s not completely out of hand.”

“Dead relative?”

You shook your head. “Single mom.”

“Oh,” his hand patted your shoulder, a surprisingly welcomed gesture. “My best friend’s got a single mom. They’re not very close, though.”

“Good for them,” you said flatly.

Spiderman shifted awkwardly. “So maybe don’t...steal jewelry? For your mom’s sake?”

He looked at you for a reaction, even a tiny nod, and got none. “You really hate talking about her, don’t you?”

“It’s not- ugh, I dunno,” you hung your head lower. “If I talk about my mum for another second I’d probably start on a whole rant ‘bout how she utterly failed as a parent and, despite technically being there my entire childhood, is constantly ignoring her responsibilities-”

You opened your mouth to continue but choked on the words, realizing that the conversation was 90% you oversharing. “Anyway she’s an okay mum or whatever. Hasn’t done anything that bad. Very average.”

How else were you to phrase it to someone you met so recently? “Very average” was giving her way too much credit but it wasn’t abuse...anymore. In the past two years she’d gone from hitting you for being a disappointment to not caring at all. She didn’t yell every week, she didn’t slap you upside the head or box your ears. She tried to do Mother/Daughter nights but they always ended with her screaming about kicking you out while you wiped away tears. Frankly it wasn’t “caring” as much as it was random fits of rage but- it wasn’t physical anymore. You didn’t have hand shaped bruises anymore, nor split lips. You still had to be careful around your mum ‘cause hell, who knew if she was having a bad day. Who knew what she’d do if she had a bad day. But despite the bad days...she was still your mum. She always apologized after a week or so, told you she hadn’t meant it.

Spiderman was nodded slowly. “You’ve...got a lot to say about your mom.”

“Trust me, that barely covered my opinion of her,” you grumbled. “But what the hell, right? Not like I know you,” your hands felt clammy and hot from frustration.

“Don’t look,” you warned him briskly.

“What?”

“I need some air, don’t look at me.” Your fingers grasped the bottom of your mask and began to tug up. Chilly night air tingled pleasantly wherever it touched, almost making you sigh out loud.

Spidey’s neck must have snapped with how quickly he looked away. “Are you crazy?! Why are you taking the mask o-”

“Relax, I’m just lifting it a little,” you bunched the mask up on the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply for the cold, dry New York air. It rattled in your lungs yet you took another calming breath, glancing at Spiderman.

He was covering his eyes.

“You don’t have to-” your quiet laugh got his attention. “Don’t cover your eyes, dude. Jus’ don’t look at my face.”

“Uh, yeah,” he hesitantly took the hand from his face. “Gotta be cautious thought.”

“S’ just my mouth, Spiderboy,” you grinned at his awkward nature. “What- can’t handle seeing a girl’s lips?”

“Yes I have!”

You giggled at his voice crack. “Pretty sure you’ve a bigger virgin than I am.”

“I am not!”

“Oh yeah?” you quirked an eyebrow, knowing he couldn’t see it. “I’m making my ‘I-don’t-believe-you’ face, by the way. Seriously starting to doubt that you’re my age ‘cause…you act like a twelve year old. No offense.”

“I’m sixteen!” he defended and honestly, seeing him angrily wave his arms around without facing you was hilarious. And the suit sounded like it was frantically trying to adjust the voice modifier to his high pitched rambling. “I swear I’m sixteen, it’s fucking puberty-”

You put a hand up to silence him, smiling maniacally before pulling your mask over your chin again. “I kid, I kid. Mask is back down.”

If this were a cartoon there would have been steam shooting from his ears. Not like, angry steam. Flustered steam. Or maybe both. Either way, it was funny.

“I hate you,” he groused. “And my voice had to crack! God, that’s worse than when we met!”

A fresh bout of laughter erupted from thinking of that memory alone. Your cackles, once again muffled by the shitty mask, had to be stifled by biting down on the inside of your cheek.

“Pfft, ha! Oh-” you gagged on the words. “Oh that was fucking amazing! D’you- d’you remember when the kid was running-”

“Please no.”

“And you tried to grab him-”

“No, no you said you wouldn’t bring that up!”

“And he threw the bag of quarters at your dick! Ha!”

Spiderman groaned in agony. “Take the mask off so I can deck you.”

“Come at me scrub, I’m- shit,” your metal wristlet beeped, flashing the word “Urgent” in neon blue block letters. “Ah, damn. There’s a robbery near my place, gotta check that out,” owners of a small Korean place near Delmar’s are being threatened at gunpoint. You’d been there with Peter and Ned few times, and that made thought you somber again. “That’ll be a few minutes to get to.”

“You’ve gotta stop bugging the cameras,” Spidey said disapprovingly.

“Well some of us don’t have fancy Super-Conducting 4.2 Tera whatever to help us,” you answered snidely, projecting a small image of the restaurant's security camera view. “Fuck, you’ve got patrol too. Who’s gonna guard this shit?”

“I can stay here,” Spidey offered quickly. He’s not asking to swing me there? That’s...weird. Last time I checked he was the biggest Mom Friend I’ve ever met.

You paused at the ledge of the warehouse, eyes moving from the him to Queens in the distance and back again. “Are you sure?”

“Go!” he urged, shooing you away. “I can handle one night without a partner. S’ your chance to prove that you’re not evil.” You scoffed, wheeled around and raised your middle finger, falling backwards off the ledge with your arms spread like wings. Your body dissolving into a column of smoke seconds before hitting the ground. Spiderman didn’t call for backup that night and the ordeal was stopped with a few “magic tricks” of yours. The robber was easy to take down as he was stupid high and though you disappeared before they could say anything, you saw the restaurant owners talking to a local reporter with relieved expressions. You doubted the old couple would say anything bad, but being tentative never hurt anyone. Hopefully Spidey’s call sent a few officers to the warehouse.

Funny thing was: you hadn’t seen any police cars heading to the warehouse as you flew Queens. Not a single one.

A/N: idk why i got carried away with this. like on one hand...character background. on the other...character background that will cause some depressing shit vv soon

Tags:  @everythingthatisrandom, @mcheung0314,@spiderdudeparker, @lou-la-lou, @4-a-m, @miss-glitch, @runs-with-sciss0rs, @lubrielx, @kaitlynthehuman, @b-lyn-k, @hotsocke, @therealwatermelon, @shipping-the-unsinkable-ship, @vivideley, @rosieredcheeks 

[megamanx1994]

Mega Man Forever Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Our training begins (Disclaimer!) Cyclone was wreaking havoc on the citizens of Japan. “That guy’s destroying everything!” said Daisy, “Somebody oughta do somethin’.” “Somebody is gonna do somethin’,” I said. I got out a strange backpack. He kept shooting gusts of wind. “Unless you show up Power Man, I’m gonna start killing everybody in this damn town!” I managed to sneak behind him. “HEY!” I said. He turned around to see me. “You want me?” I asked, “Well here I am.” “Who the hell are you?” asked Cyclone. “I’m Power Man,” I said. “You’re Power Man?” he asked as he laughed. “Ok so I don’t have my suit,” I said, “Yet.” “This is gonna be fun,” he said as he powered up his suit. I sprinted at him and he blew me back. I hit a car. “You’re not as strong as I thought,” said Cyclone. I saw a mirror and him coming near me. I waited for the right time and then evaded his attack. “I’m gonna kick your ass,” said Cyclone. Someone shot an energy blast at him to get his attention. It was Sakura. “Try this on for size,” said Sakura, “Shouken!” She did a Shroyuken and sent him in the air and he fell. “You’re gonna pay for that one you brat!” he said. He came at her and she dodged. “Sakura!” I said. He shot an air blast at her and she hit a building. “That does it!” I said. I got out the backpack and changed into costume. This was the mark VI model built with a centurion silver coating. “Alright,” said Cyclone, “Finally a real challenge.” He shot gusts of wind at me and I evaded them. I started shooting plasma bullets and he deflected them. I was about to charge a shot but he blew a huge blast of vibrations that was so loud I couldn’t concentrate. He then picked me up and threw me around like a rag doll. “Nicholas!” said Sakura. She ran after him. “Time to finish it!” said Cyclone. “Hey!” said Sakura, “Hands off my boyfriend!”  She jumped up and charged a hadouken. “Shinkyuuu…. HADOUKEN!” she said. She shot the energy blast at him distracting him. That gave me time to pin him down and destroy his power supply. He was now defenseless. The crowd cheered. I helped Sakura up. “Thanks for the help,” I said. “No sweat dude,” said Sakura. Chun-Li and her partner Cammy arrived too late. “What’s going on?” asked Chun-Li, “We heard screaming.” “We already took care of it,” said Sakura. The authorities came just in time to arrest him. They were joined by Guile. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked. “Takin’ care of business,” I said. “This is police business and people like you don’t need to get involved,” said Guile. “Gee that’s funny,” I said, “I didn’t see your men patrollin’ the area, so I thought why not handle it myself.” “I’m warning you boy,” said Guile, “Stay the hell out of my way!” They placed Cyclone in the car for questioning. “What an ungrateful prick,” I said. “You said it,” said Chun-Li. Later I was punching a bag with Guile’s face on it. “He can’t just talk down to me like that,” I said, “Who does that self righteous brush head think he is?” I continued punching it. “Does he… A little to the left,” I said. Daisy pushed the punching bag to the left and I kicked it hard. “Have ANY IDEA WHO HE’S DEALIN’ WITH?!” I shouted, “What gives him the right to say that to me? Why I practically saved his ass last time!” “And in doing so you thought he would’ve treated you nicer,” said Daisy. “Yeah,” I said, “Go figure.” The doorbell rang. “I wonder who that could be,” I said. I opened the door and it was Jimmy. “I just wanted to drop these off to you,” he said, “There some cookies I made as a token of my graditute.” “Thanks,” I said. “Wait… aren’t you… Red Warior Bokori Man?” asked Jimmy. “Who?” I asked. “You watch that show too?!” asked Daisy. “Yeah,” said Jimmy, “Its so awesome.” “What the hell’s Red Warrior Bokori Man?” I asked. “Mighty Transforming Battle Warriors,” said Daisy, “It’s a popular children’s TV show, and Red Warrior Bokori Man is the star of the show!”  “Well I…” I said. “Just kidding,” said Jimmy, “I don’t think Red Warrior Bokori Man is so….” “Go on,” I said in my mind, “Say little. I dare you.” Later we were at a party playing a show for the audience. “Thank you!” I said. Daisy did a stage dive and the audience caught her. I couldn’t help but laugh. I then messed with my pedalboard. “What’s the matter dude?” asked Joshua, “You played one hell of a show.” “I know, but I just didn’t have the right gain for the set, even when we practiced a lot,” I said. “Well if your gains that off, try messing with one of the stompboxes,” said Joshua. “Yeah or you could buy a Big Muff,” said Konny. “Big muff?” I asked, “The hell’s a Big Muff?” “You never heard of the Big Muff?” asked Joshua, “All the best rockers use them.” “Daisy heard they’re selling some in Japan,” said Daisy. “Nicholas, you coming?” asked Sakura. “Beauty awaits me,” I said as I went with Sakura. Later we were taking a walk around the city. “This is gonna sound weird, but I’m glad we met at that area,” said Sakura. “To be honest, me too,” I said. “Hey, you’re not wearing that hat I brought you,” said Sakura, “Something wrong.” “No, its great,” I said, “Its just… This is the only hat I’ve had since I left Brooklyn during the 9/11 attacks. I feel like… it gives me good luck when I wear it.” “Oh man,” said Sakura, “I’m so sorry to hear that.” I held her hand as we walked and she rested on my shoulders. “I feel so safe with you,” she said. Meanwhile Jimmy was in the party greeting some people. “Jimmy, you’ve been chosen to become a part of our brotherhood of pro wrestlers,” said someone. It was Oster, one of the so called “cool guys”. That was the name of the guy who messed with Jimmy before. “Something tells Daisy that guy is bad news,” said Daisy, “Be careful Jimmy.” “I will,” said Jimmy.   “This brotherhood has swore an oath to protect these ranks from anyone that would endanger them, and use self defense only as a final means of protection,” said Oster, “Do you understand Jimmy?” “I understand,” said Jimmy. “Then are you ready to receive their judgement?” asked Oster. Jimmy nodded. Everyone had their thumbs ready. They put them all down. “What…” said Jimmy, “But I thought…” “Begin the rejection ritual,” said Oster. They blew out all the lights and turned the overhead lights on. “Sucks to be you,” said Oster. They pelted him with paintballs. Jimmy managed to get away and run. People saw him and begun to laugh. Jimmy ran out of the building to find comfort. He was so frustrated with what happened. “Why?!” asked Jimmy, “Why God?!” He then took a bottle and threw it at a sign. A strange gas surrounded him. Then there was an explosion that threw him to another building and he started to transform. He now had bulging muscles, green skin, and long hair. He howled. I heard it. “What’s wrong?” asked Sakura. “Something’s happenin’,” I said. “Then let’s go check it out,” said Sakura. She secretly had her gloves.

[misspepita]

LESSON - DEFINITES Notes: -"the" is taken from "a" and becomes a suffix: en mann → mannen et barn → barnet ei jente → jenta -OR- en jente → jenten Vocab: øya - island

LESSON - OBJECT PRONOUNS Notes: meg - me deg - your ham - him henne - her det or den - it --- oss - us dere - yall dem - them Vocab: subject verb object ; han elsker meg - he loves me jeg ser deg - i see you du liker ham - you like him hun elsker henne - she loves her vi spiser det - we are eating it / we are eating that hører du ham? - do you hear him? ser hun oss? - can she see us? jeg elsker dere - i love yall dere elsker dem - yall love them

LESSON - PLURALS Notes: -er or -r is a suffix: en eple → epler , en gutt → gutter -words that already end in -er: lærer → lærere -single-syllable neuter nouns do not often change spelling: hus (house/houses), dyr (animal/animals), barn (child, children) Vocab: flere - several aviser - newspapers mange - many sykler - bicycles koner - wives hytter - cabins bygder - villages noen - some grønnsak - vegetable brev - letter

LESSON - DEFINITE PLURALS Notes: -ene is common, -a can be used for neuter nouns hund - dog hunden - the dog hunder - dogs hundene - the dogs --- barn - child barnet - the child barn - children barna, barnene - the children Vocab: alle - everyone

LESSON - PRESENT TENSE VERBS Notes: -er / -r are added as a suffix to form the present tense of a verb: å bo - to live → bor - lives, am/are/is living Vocab: viser - showing selger - selling gyør - doing betaler - paying lager - making han lager mat - he is cooking food hun lager kunst - she is making art kjøper - buying arbeider - working lytter - listening lukter - smelling ler - laughing gråter - crying smiler - smiling vil - want hva vil hun ha? - what does she want to have? det vil jeg - i want to kjører - driving tar - taking sover - sleeping finner - finding regner - raining betyr - meaning velger - choosing vasker - washing bruker - using leker - reading tegner - drawing støtter - supporting tenger - needing synger - singing gjør - doing hva gjør du? - what are you doing? hun gjor det - she did that nei, man gjør ikke det.- no, no one does that man - proverbial you

LESSON - COUNTING én - one to - two tre - thee fire - four fem - five seks - six sju - seven åtte - eight ni - nine ti - ten tusen - thousand

LESSON - LOCATION Notes: -instead of using "to be", either "to stand" or "to lie" is used to describe where an object is located. Vocab: hvor - where sitter - is located på - on i - in dere - there her - here ved - by over - above under - under foran - in front of mellow - between bak - behind ved siden av - next to står - stands, is standing ligger - lies, is lying seng - bed stol - chair gulvet - floor butikken - the store lampe - lamp speil - mirror bord - table vegg - wall henger - hanging bilde - picture gjerde - fence natur - nature i naturen - in nature tre - tree ute - outside inne - inside bakken - the ground, hills nede - down oppe - up besøk - visiting jeg er på besøk - i am visiting der er på besøk oss - they are visiting us blant - amongst hjem - home hus - house lever - alive (life) → jer lever - i am alive bor - live (residing) → jeg bor i new jersey - i live in new jersey grense - border innefor - inside a location (innefor veggene - inside the walls) utenfor - outside a location (utenfor kaféen - outside the cafe) nederfor - down past a location (nederfor restauranten - down past the restaurant) bortenfor - beyond a location (bortenfor restauranten - beyond the restaurant)

LESSON - CLOTHING Notes: -seg - 3rd person pronoun (himself, herself, themselves) -har på seg - to have on Vocab: hva har du på deg? - what are you wearing? klær - clothes, clothing kler - getting dressed kler du på deg? - are you getting dressed? jakke - jacket sko - shoe genser - sweater skjorte - shirt briller - glasses skjørt - skirt kjole - dress buksene - pants sokk - sock dress - suit hatt - hat lue - cap/beanie skjerf - scarf hanske - glove lomme - pocket belte - belt knappe - button frakk - coat støvel - boot slips - tie vott - mitten pose - bag undertøy - underwear

LESSON - THAT/THOSE Notes: (m) - hunden → den hunden (that dog) (f) - kvinnen → den kvinnen (that woman) (n) - barnet → det barnet (that child) (pl) - husene → de husene (those houses) Vocab: tilhorer - belongs