#fuck you europe and goodnight
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I hope everyone who voted for Sweden is haunted by CHA CHA CHA in their dreams tonight
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Written Mar, 25
Harry settled for plain pasta for dinner. Regulus searched his closet his smallest shirt and made sure he had most of the blankets Regulus owned before he settled the boy on his ratty couch.
Regulus wished Harry goodnight and turned to go to his bedroom when a small voice stopped him. "Mister Regulus, will you stay with me?"
When Regulus turned back to look at him, Harry had the most heartbreaking expression he had ever seen. It was a look no child should ever have on their face. There was something so visceral and dark. Regulus had never seen so much grief in one person.
Regulus tried to force his face into something comforting, but it probably came off as a grimace. "Of course, Harry. I'll just grab a blanket and pillow and I will be right back, okay?" Harry nodded his assent with heavy lids. Regulus quickly made his way to his bedroom and said out loud, but very quietly, "What the fuck."
When he returned to the sitting room with his thick book on the history of dark arts in Europe, Harry was already fast asleep. Still, Regulus settled in his well used arm chair, cast lumos minima, and cracked open the dusty tome. He would be keeping an eye on the mysterious boy. Maybe he should be watching for something suspicious - but he was primarily concerned with Harry sleeping well.
-
Regulus woke slowly. His eyes sluggishly cleared the blurriness from his vision. Then, he jerked back, because there were two large eyes staring straight at him. If he didn't know better, Regulus would think they were looking into his soul and considering every broken and poisoned crevice.
"Merlin!" Regulus cried. "Oh, you really startled me, Harry." Harry smiled devilishly and slid off Regulus' lap.
"Brekky time?" Regulus groaned and he lifted himself from the arm chair and rubbed his neck.
"Very well."
When he had Harry at the table with a bowl full of porridge, he steeled himself. He really couldn't avoid this conversation, even though it was sure to upset Harry.
"Harry," Regulus said cautiously. "Can you tell me how you got here? Did someone bring you to the park nearby? Harry shook his head, and then paused, cocked his head, and shrugged. Regulus sighed, struggling to prevent frustration bleeding into his tone. "What about your Papa? Please Harry, I need to know who can take care of you."
Any brightness from a good nights sleep evaporated from Harry's posture and expression. He curled in on himself and whispered, "Papa's dead."
///
I would say sorry for the kinda cliff hanger, but I'm not. Guess you'll have to check back tomorrow to see what comes next ;)
Also this blog already has 100 likes which is pretty cool for having started this 5 days ago. So thank you to everyone liking and re-blogging and following!! It's pretty fucking great!!
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#creative writing#writing#fanfic#fanfiction#alternate universe#regulus black and harry potter#regulus deserved better#regulus black#jegulus#james potter#harry potter#dead gay wizards from the 70s#fuck jkr
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A Maxiel Christmas ramble
24th Dec, evening Australia time...
Daniel: I drank too much eggnog. I told my family about us.
Mum was so happy she cried.
But she is also drunk.
She's crying again.
They want to facetime you tomorrow.
Sorry.
Are you mad?
Max: That's amazing. I'm so happy for you.
Daniel: did you tell your mum??
Max: No, just my sister. She keeps making gay jokes. It is not funny.
Why are you texting gay jokes to my sister??
How did you get her number??
Daniel!!!
Daniel: She's a legend. Get it Victoria.
(I'm still drunk I may have told her you have a magic dick, sorry)
Max: OH MY GOD!!!
Daniel : Gonna pass out now.
Max: Goodnight over sharing idiot.
Several hours later. Night time in Europe...
Max: Victoria made me do shots.
She's using the word magic every other sentence. Fuck this.
I told my mum. She was too drunk to show her disappointment.
Actually.
She's happy?
I'm happy.
She said we should never tell my dad. Fuck that. Fuck him.
Fuck I love you.
I hate this time difference.
Wake up!!
December 25th, morning Australia time...
Incoming facetime call from Daniel.
"Merry Christmas, Maxy!!!" Daniel shouted through the screen.
"Hey Daniel," Victoria answered. "Max is checking on the babies."
"Husband material!" Sophie shouted towards the camera. She appeared on screen a few seconds later. "You will treat my Max well. I am happy for you."
Daniel was touched. "That means a lot, thank you."
"And if anyone has a problem with it, they will deal with me," Sophie added.
"I really appreciate it, seriously," Daniel replied.
"Thanks for all the juicy details, Daniel. I want to know anything I can tease Max with, ok?" Victoria said.
"What did he say?" Sophie asked.
"Blijkbaar heeft Max een magische lul," Victoria replied.
"He has a what?" Sophie asked, giggling. "Raised well, clearly."
"Oh my god, Victoria!" Daniel exclaimed.
"Yes?" She asked innocently.
Sophie was still laughing when Max appeared behind them and snatched his phone away.
"What did you tell them?" Max asked.
"Hold on, magic?" Sophie added through laughs.
"I'm not elaborating," Daniel responded.
"Oh my god, Daniel!" Max whispered, close to the microphone.
"It was Victoria!" Daniel defended himself.
"I'll deal with you later," Max warned his sister.
"Happy crimbo, Maxy," Daniel said.
"Happy Christmas, Daniel," Max replied.
"Izzy and Isaac want to say hi, if that's ok?" Daniel asked, walking out of his room and into the main living area, which was alive with activity.
"Ok," Max responded, slumping down own the sofa.
"More champagne, Max," Sophie said, passing Max a glass and sitting beside him. "The weather looks beautiful there, Daniel."
"Yeah, it's a hot one!" Daniel responded. "Max is on the phone!"
"Uncle Max!" Izzy shouted, appearing next to Daniel.
"Woah careful on the chair, I'll come down to you," Daniel said.
"Uncle Max?" Max questioned.
"Well, you're uncle Daniel's boyfriend, right?" Isaac questioned.
"Yes," Max replied, ignoring the little belly flip that he got from hearing someone else say that.
"So that's how it works, you're uncle Max now," Isaac continued.
"Uncle Daniel is very happy," Izzy said. "And he gets to have a boyfriend who is the world champion. We like you."
"That's really important to me," Max replied.
"Give me the phone," Grace demanded. Daniel conceded immediately and his mum came into view. "Hello my love, oh you look so good. I'm so happy for you both."
"Thank you, Grace," Max said between her ramblings.
"I know Daniel has been bisexual since he was old enough to know what that meant but I had no idea about you. I think he's happier than I've ever seen him. I thought it was the year off, but turns out it's you."
Max was blushing.
"It's his magic dick!" Victoria shouted towards the phone.
"There are children on the other end of the line, Victoria!" Max scolded her.
"Sorry!" She shouted. "I wasn't paying attention."
"They didn't hear, don't worry. I'll pass you back to Daniel. Lots of love to you, Max. Come and visit, ok?" Grace responded calmly.
"I want to," Max responded.
Daniel's smiling face reappeared on the screen and they talked for as long as they could, until Max was dropping off to sleep on the end of the phone. They promised to speak the next day and promised to send lots of photos.
"New years in Monaco, baby," Daniel whispered. "Love you."
"I love you too."
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HARRINGROVE FLIP REVERSE IT DAY 4: Long Distance Relationship
SFW NSFW | Mature | 1.9k
Did someone say phone sex? I hope so. I did, so here you go ;) Steve being a needy baby because I was in the mood. Always in the mood lowkey. Anyway, enjoy! 😚💖
Read on AO3
Made for @harringrove-flip-reverse-it!
“I miss you.”
Telephone feedback had haunted him all week. In and out between too-infrequent ringing, Steve sat by the phone and waited for Billy’s calls from home. England’s winter was no match for his voice that soothed like a coddling flame, around Steve’s head and into his heart to rattle him back to life. Otherwise he sat in cars or at desks, parents right next to him and oblivious to the fact that he didn’t care about bringing the business overseas. All he cared about was home, his love, his life that Billy had become over the months since they met.
“I miss you too.” It made Steve want to cry, being away from him, hearing him all tired from his evening workout. It made Steve fall into worrying that he’d return to someone else in his house and Billy’s arms. All the heartache before they said they liked each other, for nothing when Billy found someone better who didn’t have to run off to Europe last minute because of his name. It made Steve press Billy’s sweater and blankets and pillow deep into his chest as a reminder of the promises they made. The ring that hung from a chain on his neck—well, that was something deeper.
“How you holding up in that big house all by yourself?”
“It’s terrible,” Billy said, but Steve knew he was teasing and laughed anyway. “I’ve been switching between bedrooms every night.”
“You have not!”
Billy laughed. “No, I haven’t, but maybe I should.”
“Wait for me, at least,” Steve said, and the static hummed for a moment.
“How ‘bout you? Tired of room service yet?”
Steve scoffed. “No. That’s one good thing, I guess. Dad keeps having them send coffee to my room. That shit’s gooood.”
“Better than mine?”
“Is that a trick question?”
They laughed some more, and it was almost as if Billy was there with him, the way warmth resonated through the phone line and over his body. Billy’s things helped Steve surround himself in the essence of comfort as they lay together, but Steve still wished he could kiss his love goodnight.
That was what he dreamed of, wrapped up in Billy—feeling, smelling, tasting the remnants before the hotel bedding took over. That was what he thought of with his head in the pillow, soft wool against his cheek and flannel curled around his legs. Billy’s arms around him in a wishful daze, protective like he always was when Steve had trouble sleeping, which had been every night for a long while before they got together. Nightmares didn’t stand a chance against him either.
While Steve was alone, they threatened to return. Window rattling startled him without Billy’s breath on his neck, and footsteps just outside the door made his heart chase the safety of Billy’s hands in his hair. Fingers circling over his shoulders and down his back, under an arm where Billy rubbed his side and hummed until he fell asleep too. Some nights, those strong hands lingered even lower, to Steve’s belly and down his thigh. Please? Steve would ask; and Billy, I got you, don’t worry, you’re okay.
In England, Steve picked up the phone after a restless hour and a half of prodding at his briefs with no desire to help himself. It wasn’t the same. It was too quiet.
“Hello?”
“Billy?”
The voice softened immediately. “Hey, baby, what’s going on?”
“I miss you,” Steve said for the second time that night, groggier than before and shamelessly in need.
Billy chuckled. “I miss you too, Stevie. You’ll be home soon.”
“I wanna be home now.” He huffed and turned over in Billy’s blanket, pressed his face into Billy’s pillow.
“I know, baby. I want you home too. One more week, yeah? Then your parents’ll be fucked off somewhere else, and you get me all to yourself again.”
“Yeah…”
There was some rustling on the other end. Clattering of silverware or glass or something; Billy should have made his evening tea, should have been settling on the couch with Steve between his legs.
“What are you doing?” Steve asked.
“Going upstairs so I can help you sleep.”
Steve laughed—“Asshole”—because Billy didn’t even have to ask to know why Steve was calling again. When the phone clicked, Steve saw the image of him putting the phone back on the receiver, shuffling up to the bedroom, settling in and picking the other phone up to lay down with.
“Alright, where were we?”
“I called you an asshole.”
“Rude, by the way.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Sheets ruffling, a huff and a grunt, all muddied by feedback and overseas landlines. “You can touch yourself, Stevie,” Billy said, because he knew Steve was waiting for him to say go.
So Steve closed his eyes and took a deep breath, doing his best to ignore the hard phone pressing into his head. He lay on his side, Billy’s pillow behind him, blanket still over him, sweater sleeves following the hand he ran along his own torso. Slow and light, that was how Billy did it, but their hands were different. Their strengths were different. It was all different, but Billy’s voice remained clear even through the phone.
“That’s it… just relax, baby, I’m right here.”
And Steve tried. He picked up his knee and rode that hand down his thigh, under the cup of his bulge where he pressed just where Billy would. One finger along to the front, just passing the outline of his tip, and then he put his leg back down to tangle it in with the blanket, with Billy’s leg.
“Press up nice and close to me,” he said. “There you go.” Steve crooned at the low, sleepy droll of Billy’s instruction and the kisses pressed to his shoulder through the phone. “Mmm… feel me on your neck. I’m right here.”
“Billy…”
“Hm?”
“Can you kiss me?”
“What kind of question is that, Steve? Of course I’ll kiss you. C’mere.”
Billy’s hand coming up to hold Steve’s face, fingers on his jaw, a palm to his ear. The breath from Billy’s nose blowing hot under his own, lips so close, so, so fucking far. Steve groaned into his palm and dug his nose in hard, unashamed of needing so badly when he’d been deprived for so long. “More,” he said even when Billy didn’t stop, earning him a low, breathy laugh that made him shudder. “Fuck. God dammit—“
“What’s the matter now?”
“I want you here.”
“Shh, shh, I’m here, baby, I’m here. Come on, it’s okay. Push against me, I push against you. That’s my hand under your waistband. My hand feeling you up and down. My hand on your chest. My hand on your cock.”
Steve moaned and pulled down his briefs.
“There you go, Stevie, that’s it. Just me. My hand tugging you nice and slow…” More kisses to his neck, and he was tingling all over. “I’ll fuck you real good into the bed, just like that.”
Out of breath already, Steve asked, “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“I wanna—fuck you too.”
“Only if you let me suck you off first.”
Steve whispered, said, “Shit,” and breathed hard, slowly stroking up and down just like Billy would—rolling his palm, nibbling Steve’s ear, saying all the sweet and sinful things that made sleep easier to fall into. “Wait, hold on.” He reached over to the nightstand where a mini spritz bottle of Billy’s cologne sat for him to refresh the pillow with. “Okay, okay…”
“You okay?”
“Mhm… you smell good…”
“I bet you smell better.”
“No, I smell like stupid, European hotel.”
“Still smell like my Stevie if I get close enough.”
By then, the hand around his cock was unrelenting. His hips writhed into the hotel pillow, Billy’s thigh shoving up against him, Billy’s other hand riding up his chest. “Fuck, say that again, please.” His eyes were clenched shut.
“Which part, hm?” Billy asked, but Steve only whined. “I don’t know if I can get any closer, baby, I’m practically inside you already.”
“Billy.”
“Oh, you mean the part where you’re my Stevie?” Such a goddamn tease.
“Mhm.”
“That’s right, you love knowing you’re all mine, don’t you? I know you do.” Steve’s heart was all but deflating, he needed this so badly. “Breathe, baby. Nice and easy. Close those pretty eyes, lay your head back. Let me take care of you, okay?”
“Okay…”
So Billy guided him through their sacred little routine. Whispers and reassurances, promises that they were still together even when they weren’t. “So sweet when you moan for me like that. My hand feel good?”
“Yeah.”
“How good?”
“S-so good, fuck…”
There was a world between them where Billy left kisses all down his neck, nipped at him just lightly enough that it was soothing. His voice buzzed through Steve’s skin, bringing him back to his own bed, his Billy consuming every part of him there was. Billy’s hands were so much better than his, knew Steve’s dick better than he ever could. The way he rubbed his thumb along the head, paused his pulling to feel along the base and tell Steve that, fuck, he was so perfect even when he doubted it.
“Faster, baby, before you get too sleepy,” Billy said, and Steve didn’t have to be told twice. He jerked his arm with growing haste, trying to recall the expertise that turned his body inside out and swallowed his energy ounce-for-ounce. “There you go.” It was harder to keep the phone to his ear when his head shoved so hard into the pillow, furiously breathing in as much of Billy as he could. Sweat rolled down his forehead already, pricked under his arms and all over his back, Billy’s skin just as clammy against his. More kisses through the phone, and he could hardly move.
Steve panted, and Billy cooed—hushed him, promised anything he wanted at home. But he had a big day tomorrow, “so be a good boy, and I’ll clean up your mess.”
“Billy!”
He shuddered and shook, squeaked the bed and almost knocked the phone off entirely, sensitive to the touch but keeping the grip that burned like fire—just like Billy would. Only he didn’t have Billy to clean up his mess, not now, not really, so he let it seep into the sheets. Hot, sticky, just damp enough to be annoying, but his eyes rolled up, and his mouth lolled open, and Billy held him tight. Steve clutched hard to their sweater, their sheets with his toes, their pillow with his teeth. It was bitter, not savory like Billy’s mouth would be, but it would have to do.
“That’s it, Stevie, lean into me. You okay?”
“Yeah… yeah,” he said, catching his breath in between. “I’m hot, hold on.” Billy said something that he didn’t quite hear as he sat up to pull off their sweater and cool down, still keeping it right by his head. “Don’t hang up.” The room was going black-and-white already, fuzzy and dark with Billy’s hands running through his sweaty hair.
“I know, I wasn’t gonna. I’m right here, I promise.”
“Mm… I love you,” he said, safe in Billy’s arms again.
“I love you.” A kiss to the side of his head turned him around for one on his lips, mouth and nose pressed into his palm again because it was better than no kiss at all.
“God, I’m gonna fuck you so hard next week.”
Billy laughed. “I’ll hold you to that.”
And, back in Hawkins, he kept the phone on Steve’s side of the bed as they drifted off together.
#harringrove flip reverse it#flip reverse it 2023#harringrove#billy hargrove#steve harrington#billy x steve#steve x billy#one shot#fanfic#.discowrites#ao3
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Letters to Nora
8 December 1909: 44 Fontenoy Street, Dublin
My sweet little whorish Nora,
I did as you told me, you dirty little girl, and pulled myself off twice when I read your letter. I am delighted to see that you do like being fucked arseways. Yes, now I can remember that night when I fucked you for so long backwards. It was the dirtiest fucking I ever gave you, darling. My prick was stuck up in you for hours, fucking in and out under your upturned rump. I felt your fat sweaty buttocks under my belly and saw your flushed face and mad eyes. At every fuck I gave you your shameless tongue come bursting out through your lips and if I gave you a bigger stronger fuck than usual fat dirty farts came spluttering out of your backside. You had an arse full of farts that night, darling, and I fucked them out of you, big fat fellows, long windy ones, quick little merry cracks and a lot of tiny little naughty farties ending in a long gush from your hole. It is wonderful to fuck a farting woman when every fuck drives one out of her. I think I would know Nora’s fart anywhere. I think I could pick hers out in a roomful of farting women. It is a rather girlish noise not like the wet windy fart which I imagine fat wives have. It is sudden and dry and dirty like what a bold girl would let off in fun in a school dormitory at night. I hope Nora will let off no end of her farts in my face so that I may know their smell also.
You say when I go back you will suck me off and you want me to lick your cunt, you little depraved blackguard. I hope you will surprise me some time when I am asleep dressed, steal over me with a whore’s glow in your slumbrous eyes, gently undo button after button in the fly of my trousers and gently take out your lover’s fat mickey, lap it up in your moist mouth and suck away at it till it gets fatter and stiffer and comes off in your mouth. Sometime too I shall surprise you asleep, lift up your skirts and open your hot drawers gently, then lie down gently by you and begin to lick lazily round your bush. You will begin to stir uneasily then I will lick the lips of my darling’s cunt. You will begin to groan and grunt and sigh and fart with lust in your sleep. Then I will lick up faster and faster like a ravenous dog until your cunt is a mass of slime and your body wriggling wildly.
Goodnight, my little farting Nora, my dirty little fuckbird! There is one lovely word, darling, you have underlined to make me pull myself off better. Write me more about that and yourself, sweetly, dirtier, dirtier.
JIM
*
16 December 1909: 44 Fontenoy Street, Dublin
My sweet darling girl,
At last you write to me! You must have given that naughty little cunt of yours a most ferocious frigging to write me such a disjointed letter. As for me, darling, I am so played out that you would have to lick me for a good hour before I could get a horn stiff enough even to put into you, to say nothing of blocking you. I have done so much and so often that I am afraid to look to see how that thing I had is after all I have done to myself. Darling, please don’t fuck me too much when I go back. Fuck all you can out of me for the first night or so but make me get myself cured. The fucking must all be done by you, darling, as I am so soft and small now that no girl in Europe except yourself would waste her time trying the job. Fuck me, darling, in as many ways as your lust will suggest. Fuck me dressed in your full outdoor costume with your hat and veil on, your face flushed with the cold and wind and rain and your boots muddy, either straddling across my legs when I am sitting in a chair and riding me up and down with the frills of your drawers showing and my cock sticking up stiff in your cunt or riding me over the back of the sofa. Fuck me naked with your hat and stockings on only flat on the floor with a crimson flower in your hole behind, riding me like a man with your thighs between mine and your rump very fat. Fuck me in your dressing gown (I hope you have that nice one) with nothing on under it, opening it suddenly and showing me your belly and thighs and back and pulling me on top of you on the kitchen table. Fuck me into you arseways, lying on your face on the bed, your hair flying loose naked but with a lovely scented pair of pink drawers opened shamelessly behind and half slipping down over your peeping bum. Fuck me if you can squatting in the closet, with your clothes up, grunting like a young sow doing her dung, and a big fat dirty snaking thing coming slowly out of your backside. Fuck me on the stairs in the dark, like a nursery-maid fucking her soldier, unbuttoning his trousers gently and slipping her hand into his fly and fiddling with his shirt and feeling it getting wet and then pulling it gently up and fiddling with his two bursting balls and at last pulling out boldly the mickey she loves to handle and frigging it for him softly, murmuring into his ear dirty words and dirty stories that other girls told her and dirty things she said, and all the time pissing her drawers with pleasure and letting off soft warm quiet little farts behind until her own girlish cockey is as stiff as his and suddenly sticking him up in her and riding him.
Basta! Basta per Dio!
I have come now and the foolery is over. Now for your questions!
We are not open yet. I send you some posters. We hope to open on the 20th or 21st. Count 14 days from that and 3 1/2 days for the voyage and I am in Trieste.
Get ready. Put some warm-brown-linoleum on the kitchen and hang a pair of red common curtains on the windows at night. Get some kind of a cheap common comfortable armchair for your lazy lover. Do this above all, darling, as I shall not quit the kitchen for a whole week after I arrive, reading, lolling, smoking, and watching you get ready the meals and talking, talking, talking, talking to you. O how supremely happy I shall be! God in heaven, I shall be happy there! I figlioli, il fuoco, una bona mangiata, un caffe nero, un Brasil, il Piccolo della Sera, e Nora, Nora mia, Norina, Noretta, Norella, Noruccia ecc ecc…
Eva and Eileen must sleep together. Get some place for Georgie. I wish Nora and I had two beds for night-work. I am keeping and shall keep my promise, love. Time fly on, fly on quickly! I want to go back to my love, my life, my star, my little strange-eyed Ireland!
A hundred thousand kisses, darling!
JIM
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Thank you for tagging me @jemgirl86
Rules: Dig back into your archive, published (post the link too!), not published, WIPs that are side-eyeing your new babies. Anything and everything. Let’s show love to the days of yore! Post a snippet, a summary, a plot point…anything at all!
I really need inspiration to finish writing this SamBucky Vampire AU.
Eternity Bores Me
Bucky Barnes is a fairly young vampire. He was turned during the Second World War when the Jerry bastards were bombing London. Got lost somewhere in the chaos and rubble. His whole unit thought he had died. And, in some ways, he had.
After spending some time in Europe, not staying in one place for too long, he finally came home to Brooklyn. Figures there aren’t too many others like himself there so he could blend in. He isn’t too sure if it’ll be much different from Europe - a lot of solitude and figuring things out for himself.
The thing is, Bucky’s never met anyone else who is a vampire. Figured out what he was from reading, and then watching moving pictures. He doesn’t think there’ll be anyone like him his old stomping ground. That Eddie Murphy picture was a crock o’ shit, right? Even so, Bucky doesn’t let people know what he is. It’s too dangerous.
It feels so strange coming home, but he makes it work.
He’s been keeping a low profile. Working night gigs as a bouncer at a local nightclub. He gets to watch people. Watch humans as they revel in the fleetingness of their existence. As they drink and drug and fuck their way through life. He doesn’t judge them. He probably used to be the same. His memory is sometimes hazy. At any rate, he likes watching. Sometimes he interacts with them, mainly when he needs to feed or fuck. He’s careful, though. Doesn’t shit where he eats, so to speak.
One evening, a man comes in while Bucky isn’t on the door. Bucky spots him later moving through the crowd. Can’t take his gaze off of the guy. The harsh lights of the venue make everyone else look sweaty and befuddled. But not this guy, no. It’s as if he soaks up the light. As if it dances across his gorgeous dark skin. As if he’s glowing.
Yes. There’s something different about him.
Sure, he’s hands down the most beautiful man Bucky’s ever laid his eyes on, but there’s something else. His presence makes Bucky shiver to his core. He makes Bucky feel unnerved, something Bucky was sure couldn’t happen to him anymore. And the beautiful man isn’t just affecting Bucky, all of the clubgoers seem entranced by him, too. Some stop their dancing to stare at him; some try to get close to him.
They all seem enamored or hypnotized.
The man wears a small smirk as he all but glides through the cramped space. The beat from the music is intrusive, loud, somewhat disorienting, yet this man moves like he cannot even hear it.
Then his eyes find Bucky’s. In that moment, Bucky feels like it is the first time he has truly been seen in a century. He holds Bucky’s gaze. There’s something incendiary behind his dark brown eyes. Bucky can’t look away.
Suddenly, a woman steps in front of him and obstructs Bucky’s view of the beautiful stranger, as if she is offering herself to this man. Then another person shoves her out of the way, wanting to be close to the man, too. A fight breaks out between the two people vying for the stranger’s attentions, and Bucky moves toward them. He and a colleague break the fight up, and the stranger is just standing there smiling. As if he is amused. By the time Bucky gets the woman away from the dancefloor, the stranger is gone.
The club closes fairly early. By three AM, most of the stragglers are out on the streets looking for the next party, or a ride home. Bucky waits until they are gone. He bids his colleagues goodnight and walks off. This is usually the time he would take to find some hapless, horny guy to take back to his place where he’d either fuck him or feed on him, or both.
Bucky doesn’t feel like it tonight. He can’t get his mind off of the stranger. It’s like he can feel him inside of his mind; inside of his chest. Bucky tries to shake off the unsettling feeling. For the first time in a long time, Bucky looks over his shoulder as he makes the short journey to his apartment.
And then he sees him, the beautiful stranger, walking a few strides behind him. Bucky stops. Feels like his cold, dead heart is in his throat. He turns and waits. The stranger approaches him. They are standing close now. And wow. Yeah, he’s actually breathtaking up close. All high cheekbones and long lashes. Bucky goes to speak, but can’t find the words. The stranger does, instead.
“I know what you are,” he says, his deep, rich inflection washing over Bucky and stunning him momentarily.
“How?” he manages, annoyed that his own voice comes out shaky and uncertain. “Who are you?”
The man seems amused. He smiles a little and Bucky’s sure he just might die another death. He leans in close and whispers, “I’m Sam and I know because I’m the same. I’m like you.”
Tagging: @honestlyfrance @thatmexisaurusrex @glittercake @downwarddnaspiral
No pressure x
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A Redemption Earned Ch 12
Heather Dunbar x reader
Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, talks of drug consumption, the usual hurt/comfort/drama that surrounds Heather in this universe, you get it.
Heather had only been to Rob’s place once before, an evening of family boardgames and snacks shortly after she’d reconciled with Becca. It wasn’t as comfortable and cozy as things were now, Becca still on edge, and Rob not knowing what he was getting into at all aside from hearing from their daughter how things went at their first meet up. It was safe to say she didn’t stay very long that evening, feigning work as an excuse to say goodnight earlier than originally planned.
She wasn’t too surprised to hear most of the noise coming from the backyard the echoes of voices and Rob’s favourite playlist wafting through the air, or the security presence in the house, moving through to the kitchen where she planned on leaving the cobbler until it was time for desserts. Instead she was met with an open fridge, and someone shuffling through it, the noise of her clearing her throat grabbing their attention and she let out a sigh of relief when it was Becca popping up on the other side of the door.
“Mom! Hey.” She greeted with a smile, swinging the door shut, two seltzers and a beer cupped in one of her arms as she looped the other one around the older woman in a half hug. “Oh please tell me that’s rhubarb!”
“It is.” She laughed in return, placing it down on the counter, “can’t say I was expecting such a warm welcome.”
“Well this is considerably better than the last time I found you in the kitchen at a family barbeque.”
“Becca!” Heather nearly shrieked, “today’s going to be weird enough without you bringing that up!”
“Sorry! I’m sorry.” The younger girl snorted out a laugh, nearly toppling over herself, “I’m really fucking high.” She glanced up at her mom, “I promise it’s not an all the time thing, I split a brownie with Nat and then dad wanted to smoke a joint and like, I can’t say no on his birthday, and I wasn’t gonna let him do it all on his own.”.
“Okay, okay.”
“Did you want a drink?” Becca managed to return to her senses enough and Heather gestured to one of the seltzers,
“I’ll have one of those please.”
Becca paused to grab another one from the fridge, passing it to her and pinched at her elbow in a ‘follow me’ sense, leading her outside. As expected, Rob was beside the grill, keeping an eye on the food while making conversation with Natasha and Jackie who were lounging on the cushioned patio furniture. Becca swiftly crossed the patio, handing Nat her drink, and Nat glanced up, giving Heather a small smile and wave. Heather was completely unsurprised in the raised brow she got from Jackie; a barely there tight smile flashed before she turned back to the conversation. As expected, Rob’s usual barbecue playlist was flowing through the air, the patio expertly decorated for a summer of grilling and late nights around the fire.
“You made it!” Rob greeted, an arm extending out to give Heather a quick half hug, their lips briefly brushing the other’s cheek.
“I did. Cobbler’s in the kitchen.” She replied with a smile, “happy birthday.”
“Got your card this morning. Ever so punctual and always on time, I don’t know how you do it.”
“Oh I have my ways.” She laughed.
“Have a seat.” He gestured, “burgers are almost ready, did you want cheese?”
“Not if it’s a kraft single.” She winced, her nose crinkling and Rob laughed.
“Oh come on, I’ve got goat cheese, just for you, as you like.”
“You are a true angel, you know that?” She laughed, settling down on one of the remaining chairs, turning her attention back to her daughter, “how’s the job hunting going?”
“Meh.” She laughed, “I did actually decide to take a year off before officially getting into it, I’m still at Shaw’s part time, but Sarah and I are gonna go to Europe next year.”
“That’ll be really nice for the two of you, get some time away.”
“Yeah.” She nodded with a warm smile and the conversation began to flow easier than everyone expected, the little awkwardness slowly creeping out through the air.
As usual, Heather was asked about her time away, her work now that she was back and how things were going, what her plans were. She answered as usual, updating those who weren’t as up to speed about how things were going. It took the politicians in attendance by surprise when someone mentioned the white house and Heather shook her head, saying she wasn’t sure what they were talking about. Jackie simply studied her face for a moment before realizing she actually didn’t know and wasn’t putting on an act. With a small tilt of her head she explained the bill, and why she was hoping it got pushed through to congress and Heather agreed on the matter. Jackie letting out a soft hum at the feeling of her wife’s hand gently squeezing at her thigh, a silent thank you for deciding to be civil today.
Rob passed out burgers and sides with the help of Becca, making sure everyone had exactly what the wanted, and Heather swatted him away as he tried to start to pull out more condiments or bits and bites. She instead insisted that he sit down and enjoy his birthday meal, that she was more than capable to run back into the house and grab a couple of things along with another round of drinks for anyone that needed.
When she retuned, everyone was settled in nicely, drinks and food flowing easily, Steve pawing at people occasionally, begging for scraps of food that Rob would let him have sneaky bites of. A small laugh on her cheeks Heather remembered how everyone warned her she’d hate the dog, and they were certainly right, he would never be coming over to her place, at least not inside. She could hear Becca talking about Sarah, gushing over her girlfriend and how proud she was of the work she was doing. She spoke briefly of the last luxury date they’d been on, the smile on her cheeks wide, a blush creeping across them and Heather couldn’t help but smile. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen her daughter this happy and was so incredibly pleased that she’d managed to find a partner who made her feel this way.
“Yeah…” Jackie spoke up, “where is she? I thought we were finally going to meet her today.”
“She’s at a work conference.” Becca replied with an eye roll, “but I think the better question is where’s Mom’s girlfriend today?” she turned to Heather with a wicked grin on her face and Heather let out a half scoff half laugh, her cheeks flushing as she turned her attention to her food.
“Well for starters she’s not my girlfriend.”
“Sure.” Nat laughed.
“You’ve been on how many dates?” Becca urged and Heather rolled her eyes.
“I show up and I’m really met with an interrogation?”
“You said it yourself,” Rob called from the grill, adding a couple extra kebabs to plates to be dolled out “we didn’t get to interrogate her yet, so why not you?”
“You’re in on this too?” She laughed, pulling one from him as well.
“How many dates!?” Becca interrupted, tossing a balled up napkin in her direction and Heather let out a soft sigh with a smile.
“Technically three, four if you count the unsure coffee date where we ran into each other.”
“That’s taking it especially slow for you.” Nat commented with a sly grin.
“That’s what we decided on. We were both pretty busy with work and she understands that I’m freshly back in the city and that repairing family relationships is my top priority.”
“Does she understand what a fucking disaster you were six years ago?” Jackie suddenly broke her silence, raising a brow in the other woman’s direction. Heather noticed the way Nat shot her a glance, but Jackie was right, and she’d been expecting the other woman to question her at some point throughout the evening.
“She wasn’t around,” Heather replied with a slow breath, trying to piece things together, “not in the country, doesn’t follow politics. She only ended up in D.C because she inherited a house and found a good job.”
“So you’re just lying to her then.” Jackie stated bluntly, causing Becca to choke on her drink and Nat take a heavy breath. She knew Jackie had been in a not great mood the last couple of days, and obviously she was never going to be that happy with Heather, but she’d at least been hoping for a more private conversation between the two of them.
“No.” Heather replied, her voice hardening slightly, “we’ve started to discuss things as they come up naturally.”
Jackie let out a scoff, glancing away as she took a sip of her drink. Nat’s attention shot to her phone, buzzing on the table in front of her and she picked it up, praying it wasn’t work.
‘Careful. Mommy and Daddy are fighting.’ The text accompanied with a little smirk face, she shot a death glare to Becca across the patio.
‘She is *not* my Mommy.’
Becca let out a small laugh, and suddenly Rob interrupted from the grill,
“Girls, you know it’s rude to text across the room.”
“We’re not!” Becca insisted and he let out a laugh, flipping the screen of his phone towards her, mentioning the text chain between the two of them and Nat.
“You sent that to the group chat.” Becca dissolved into a fit of laughter as Nat turned absolutely beet red, realizing that Rob had yet another insight into a side of her life that she really wished he didn’t. Especially considering the other parties included. At the very least, it distracted Heather and Jackie from what could have been a disastrous fight, attention shifted off of them as Rob pulled a couple more things off the grill.
“Well, you’ve been good with us,” Rob started to Heather, moving from the grill as the extra plates made their way to the main table “so I’m sure you’ve been open and honest with her, right?”
“It’s come out bit by bit.” She admitted, plucking a few more vegetables for her plate, “and we’ve gotten into some of the heavier things recently. She knows I was the reason for the divorce, and to what extent..” She cast a glance over to Jackie at that, “I’ve promised to be open with her, and I’m not about to go back on that.”
“Good for you.” Nat commented with a small smile.
“It’s moving in the right direction.” Becca urged, “I mean like, it’s been what? Three? Four months? I think your usual closure rate was like, less than a week from the first conversation to NDA signing?”
“Becks…” Nat warned.
“What?” The younger girl replied with wide eyes.
“You’re high.”
“And?”
“Eat your burger.”
Becca shot her a glare but finally did shut up, digging into her food instead of giving her insight that might not be the best right now. Heather said a silent prayer for that and tucked into her food, thankful when Nat was the one to look toward her this time.
“You want my honest opinion?” She asked boldly, glancing toward Heather, who nodded, “eventually, you’re going to need to come clean to her, about everything. Because who you’re looking at right now is your family, so if she ever comes to a holiday, she’s going to hear stories, whether they’re told in teasing joking ways, or full blown events, she’s either going to find out shit you didn’t tell her, or she’s going to have way more fucking questions once you get home, and both of those aren’t great.”
“I know.” Heather let out a hefty sigh, “which is exactly why we went through a handful of things the other day. I…” she glanced up, her eyes darting between Rob, Nat and Becca, “part of me feels like this sounds pathetic, but I’m scared that when I tell her the rest, it won’t matter how far we’ve gotten, how much we care, that I’ll see those same looks of disgust, disappointment…. Hatred… that I got from everyone in my past on her face, and I don’t know if I can handle that.”
“Did you ever think that if you got that reaction you maybe deserve it?” Jackie questioned; a brow raised, Nat immediately letting out a huff as she turned toward her.
“Babe!”
“Oh you can’t seriously be defending her after everything!”
“I’m not giving her a blank slate! I’m just saying that some people deserve a second chance, not all of us got one…” The second part of the statement was said quieter and Jackie softened slightly, realizing that the comment wasn’t completely about Heather.
“Maybe I just don’t think everyone deserves one.” She muttered quietly, a low swear leaving her lips as her phone began to vibrate against the table and she scooped it up, moving to a quiet corner of the yard to take the call. A moment or two passed before a security guard moved into the yard and Jackie crossed back to the patio, a hand caressing Nat’s cheek gently, “I’ve got to go.”
“Did you need me?”
“No, it’s just Durant, I’ll update you later.”
“Okay.” She glanced up at her wife with a soft look in her eyes, her hand squeezing at the other woman’s arm, “I love you.”
“I love you more peach.” She smiled gently, leaning down to steal a kiss before her and the security team vanished from the yard.
Nat let out a heavy sigh, sinking into the cushions of the patio furniture behind her before letting out a groan and glancing around.
“Sorry. It’s been a bad week. She’s been opposing a bill for months, Underwood said he was siding with her and then signed it behind her back. Should’ve seen that one coming.”
There was a small chorus of laughter, Steve letting out a couple of joyous barks to feel included and the conversation began to shift away from the awkwardness, the vice president’s hostility soon forgotten. Heather asked about Rob’s upcoming fishing trip and he bragged a little bit, knowing he was going to come home with the best catches out of everyone (and he wasn’t wrong). He also mentioned that everyone was welcome back over on Sunday when they were going to grill up the fish and Becca’s face lit up at the idea, missing her childhood weekends fishing and grilling with her dad. It didn’t take long for the conversation to circle back around to Heather and y/n, Rob pointing out that summer seemed like the prime time to really get into it, y/n having all the free time in the world.
Heather let out a small laugh, rolling her eyes, but agreed that there certainly was more free time and later nights didn’t have to be avoided as much anymore. Becca once again prodded, asking if they were officially dating and Heather let out an exasperated sigh, reminding the girl that she hadn’t actually dated in over thirty years, and despite reputations, Rob had taken the lead all those years ago. Rob simply teased that he was sure she was a natural and things would figure themselves out pretty quickly.
Heather instead turned the conversation back to Becca and Sarah, repeating similar questions to Becca, asking how long they were seeing each other before they made things official. She laughed at the near baffled responses from her daughter, letting her get a taste of her own medicine for once. While Becca was verbally stumbling over an answer, Nat’s phone went off and with a quick eye roll, she darted inside to take the call, taking a stack of dirty plates with her.
*
The call only lasted a few minutes, but Nat knew it was time for her to head out, a day full of politics awaited her, and probably at a far too early hour of the morning. She took the time to rinse off the plates, sorting dishes into the dishwasher when the sound of the back door opening caught her attention and she glanced up.
“Oh…” Heather stalled slightly in her tracks, “I thought you’d taken off.”
“I wouldn’t leave without saying goodnight.” She replied with a small smile, “uh…I, uh..don’t want to say I’m sorry about Jac, but, she really didn’t need to be that harsh.”
“On the contrary I think I did rather deserve it.”
“I mean, back in the day, yeah. But she doesn’t really get it the same way I do? Like, she only came to a couple of sessions with me, she didn’t exactly get the full treatment of therapy. Part of me understanding and moving through everything has been to realize that you could grow and be a better person in the future. And it’s apparent that you’ve been putting the work in, my only hope is that you continue to do so, and definitely don’t fall back into old habits with this new girl.”
“It’s honestly one of my biggest fears right now. And it’s something that’s worked on in weekly sessions.”
“Good.” Nat let out a small huff, drying her hands on the dish towel, “because you were pretty fucking toxic.”—
“No.” Heather stopped her and she watched the way the younger woman’s face hardened for a moment, “I was abusive. I’m well aware of that now, and I will never be able to apologize enough for it. You never once deserved to be treated like that and I’m incredibly sorry. I’m forever in debt to Jackie for helping you heal.”
“Yeah.” She dropped her gaze, subconsciously twirling her wedding band around her finger for a moment, “and while I do accept your apology, I don’t forgive you, and I never will. I hope you can understand that, cause I don’t feel guilty over it. That doesn’t mean I’m like, going to be hostile or anything, you deserve to be with your family, and whether they forgive you is their own prerogative, but I’m also not going anywhere. I love Becca like a sister, and Rob’s been a better dad to me than my own could even imagine.”
“I understand, really.” She nodded, “and I am more than okay to share custody.” She teased, happy when Nat laughed. “Are… you good? Truthfully?”
“There are good days and bad.” She shrugged, “more good than bad, and each day is a step away from the past, right?”
“Don’t I know it.” Heather smiled, awkwardly glancing away at the sound of Nat’s phone pinging.
“My car’s here.” She gestured to the front, then stepped around Heather to make her goodbyes in the back yard, “I uh… I hope this girl sticks around long enough for us to meet her.” Before she could even really say goodbye, Nat was gone, giving big hugs to the ones left in the yard before darting through the gate,
“Me too….”
**
Jackie was in the upstairs bathroom, already in fresh pyjamas, halfway through her skincare routine when she heard the front door open and shut. She listened for a moment as Tasha moved around the lower level, chatting with a couple of the staff before she could hear her on the stairs, crossing into the master bedroom.
“Hey.” Nat greeted softly, stripping out of her jacket, it and shoes finding homes in the closet as she made her way over to her wife, “anything important?”
“No.” She smiled softly, stepping forward for a kiss, “it can at least wait until tomorrow. How was the rest of the party?”
“Good.” She smiled, crossing to the counter and tugging a makeup wipe out of the container.
“Did she… try anything?”
Nat let out a snort of a laugh,
“What? You really think she was just gonna deck me in front of everyone… again?”
“No.” Jackie laughed, wrapping herself around Nat’s back, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck, “you just never know with that woman. I’ve just been scared that she’s putting up a façade, that it was all a lie to twist her way back into everyone’s lives. Especially yours.”
“And your thoughts now? After spending time with her? Hearing about this maybe girlfriend?” Nat raised a brow through the mirror and Jackie let out a heavy sigh, resting her chin on her shoulder.
“I feel a bit like an ass… I’m sorry I was such a bitch earlier; I was out of line.” She pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, “I just want you protected and happy.”
“And I am.” Nat grasped Jackie’s hand, laying a kiss on it before turning in her wife’s arms, looping her own around her shoulders. “And I have you to thank for that, remember? You have no idea how incredibly thankful I am that you’ve had my back and are constantly watching out for me. No one else has ever done that for me, not in the way you do.” Her finger curled under Jackie’s chin, her thumb pinching every so gently, pulling a warm smile from the woman before she leant in for a kiss.
“You’re sure you’re okay with her being back?”
“Yes.” Nat nodded firmly, “she deserves a chance to earn her family back. And until she fucks up, we’re going to give it to her, okay?”
“Fine.” Jackie huffed, rolling her eyes, but backing down at the soft glare from her wife. “Okay, okay. I’ll try to be nicer next time.”
“I mean, you don’t have to be, it was entertaining.”
“What’d that text from Becca say?”
“Nothing important.” Nat slyly smiled and Jackie rolled her eyes once more, “c’mon, let’s get to bed. I’m sure we’ve got an early as fuck morning tomorrow. I love you.” She kissed her once more.
“I love you too peach.”
**
Heather watched the city blocks blur by in the car on the way home, thankful that it was such a short distance between Rob’s place and hers. She felt a little defeated. It wasn’t that today was a bad day, she got to see her family, a couple of old possible friends, though that probably wasn’t the best title for them anymore. But the guilt of Jackie’s bite, of Nat’s words still hung heavy with her, weighing her down as she let out a weary sigh. She was beyond happy to be given a chance, and she was counting all the wins she was achieving and making great thanks for all of them and was hoping for plenty more in the future.
The car slowed in front of her house and she passed a warm thank you to the driver, handing him a couple of bills for a tip before slipping out of the car. Dusk had hit the city, the sky darkening, the air slightly cool, porch lights on, on most of the houses on the street, hers included. She made the couple of steps toward the gate, internally chuckling over the fact that her new place had the sterotypical white picket fence, her hand hit the hip height gate as she glanced up and suddenly her breath was taken away from her.
Perched on her stoop was you, draped in an adorable sundress, chucks on your feet, your hair loose around your shoulders, blowing gently in the wind. You had a book in your hand, completely lost in whatever world you were reading about, a happy smile your face as your eyes scanned the page. Heather couldn’t help but simply feel completely heart eyed at the entire situation, you were up, waiting for her, yet so comfortable and free, so open to be you, and wanting to spend time with her. She pushed open the gate and after a second (she presumed you waited to finish your paragraph) you looked up and a bright smile broke across your face.
“What’re you doing here?” She asked with a smile and you let out a small laugh, tucking a bookmark into your book, sliding it into your bag as you stood, picking up the paper bag beside you that she hadn’t noticed.
“We mentioned having drinks post barbeque.” You mentioned as she approached you and your hand met her waist, stepping toward her to greet her with a warm kiss, “you said you were on the way home and I was in the neighbourhood.” You held up the paper bag, “I brought donuts!”
“God you are somethin’ else aren’t you?” She grinned and you felt your cheeks heat, ducking your gaze, “please, come on in.” She stepped up the stairs, unlocking the door and letting you in.
“How was the party?” You asked, following her into the kitchen after you both dropped your things in the entryway.
“It had potential to be a lot worse, so I’ll take it as a win.” Heather turned to you with a smile, “wine?”
“Yes please.” You leant up against the island.
“Did you need a plate for those donuts?”
“There’s four. So probably not.” You grinned and she laughed.
“Alright.” She ducked to steal a kiss from you and as she pulled away your hand wrapped around the back of her head, pulling her back for another one, a deeper one full of more affection before you let her go.
Scooping up the bag of treats you followed her back to the living room where she flicked on the tv, scrolling through a couple of screens until she was back on the one you’d left off at. You thanked her for the glass of wine, pulling the donuts out of the bag as you chose which ones you wanted. As the two of you settled into the couch, bodies relaxing against each other you could still feel the tense vibes coming off of Heather and nudged at her thigh.
“Babe, you sure you’re okay?” you asked and she nearly tensed at the pet name, completely unexpecting it, “did something happen tonight?” Heather let out a heavy sigh, sucking back a sip of wine before she spoke.
“To be completely honest, Jackie tore a strip off me, which I should have expected, I did deserve it. I just guess I hadn’t prepared myself for it.”
“Jackie? Is that Becca’s girlfriend?”
“No, Jackie Sharp.” Heather murmured before tucking in to one of the donuts and you paused for a moment.
“Wait…” You glanced up at her as you recognized the name, “why was the vice president at your ex husbands birthday?”
Heather let out a weary sigh, running a hand over her face before looking up at you. She took in the slightly worried, curious expression on your face, doing her best to cast you a smile.
“Remember when you asked if I had a political career?”
“Yeah.” You nodded, popping a piece of donut into your mouth, “you were some kinda general that wasn’t army related?” Heather chuckled.
“On top of that I was a US senator for years. And that disastrous 2016 election your friend told you about? I was one of the contenders.” You froze for a moment and Heather felt her panic skyrocket.
“Are you about to tell me you’re a republican?!”
“God no!” Heather laughed, thankful that you laughed again, “but you should know that I ran for president that year, and there were a lot of blow ups, especially surrounding my campaign.”
“Okay, so Jackie hates you because of political affiliation or something?”
“Not exactly.” She replied and you huffed, giving her a knowing look.
“Stop beating around the bush Heat.”
“Her wife was my last affair.” She admitted.
“A married woman, really?” She winced at your tone and then realized how things sounded.
“No! No, I always made sure my girls were single and available. They got together after everything ended.” When she glanced up at you, you still had a curious look on your face, one that wasn’t totally sure where she was going. “But I hurt her, and didn’t always treat her the best, and the effects of that lasted, Jackie saw all of that and was the one who helped put her back together.”
“I’m glad they found each other.” You murmured and Heather felt a little bit of peace in the way your hand reached out, smoothing back a piece of her hair, softly playing with it for a moment before you tucked it behind her ear and spoke again, “is that why you lost?”
“Partially.” She let out a weary sigh, “during the race, I ended up hitting my absolute rock bottom. My affairs got exposed, Nat wanted nothing to do with me, Rob handed over divorce papers and walked out, I had long lost Becca’s support and respect, she thought I was the worst a human could be. Jordan was completely uncontrollable, his behaviour and me not policing it properly lead to his death… and it got out that… I covered up a dui of his years prior.” Your hand froze, dropping down to your lap and she felt herself shrink.
“Oh Heather….”
“What you know of Jordan is mostly his good side, but he was reckless, and completely uncontrollable. And I was stupid to encourage him, if I hadn’t, there’s a chance he would still be alive today.”
“You can’t blame yourself for his mistakes, no matter how much you engrained bad habits.”
“I can only hope you don’t judge me too harshly.” She glanced up at you, “don’t think I haven’t caught on to your opinions on substance abuse. You don’t even like the idea of weed.”
“I don’t mind it, it’s just that I don’t really trust it anymore.” Something about your choice of words caught her attention and Heather’s head tilted.
“What do you mean?”
You let out a sigh, picking at your nails for a moment before looking up at the woman across from you,
“You’ve been so open, I guess it’s my turn.” You paused to push back a piece of hair from your face, “part of the reason I wanted to travel, the reason I went to Europe, Asia, it was because I was running away…”
“From what?”
“Myself.” You replied with a small laugh, “I partied in college, way too much. More than just drinking, there were a lot of drugs involved, nothing too crazy, but still. We weren’t planning on anything harder than alcohol for our post graduation party, but my best friend at the time was pushing me to get some coke, no one would know kinda thing. My dealer tossed in some oxy cause his supply was low and I handed all over to her saying I didn’t want to do any. She died of an overdose that night.”
“Oh god…” Heather’s hand reached out, grasping at yours and giving it a little squeeze.
“Yeah…” you glanced up at her, pausing to wipe away what felt like an incoming tear, “so when I say we’ve all got skeletons… I mean it.”
“You just said you can’t blame yourself.”
“For someone else’s mistakes.” You cut her off, “this was my bad. She was always in it deeper than I was, I should’ve tossed the oxy. I couldn’t handle the shame, despite no one knowing that she got the drugs from me, so I ran.”
“And then you made something of yourself.” Heather reminded you, her hand coming up to caress your cheek, “you turned your life around.”
“Which is exactly why I’m so hellbent on second chances. She never got one, so I made the best of mine. And you deserve one just as much.”
“And I will be forever grateful that you think that way.” She leant in, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. Before she could pull away your fingers tangled into her hair, pulling her back for a proper kiss, one that you let out a little sigh into, lips curving into a smile as you settled back into the couch.
“You got anything else?”
“Hmm?” She glanced across at you and you chuckled.
“Things you wanna tell me?”
“No.” She smiled, wrapping an arm around you, encouraging you to lean into her shoulder where she could leave a kiss to the top of your head, “nothing that’s imperative.”
She let out a little sigh, her brain sorting through what was actually left, and if there were things in there that would be able to remain unspoken. Your hand found its usual spot on her thigh, this time fingers tracing little drawings across it and she felt her skin tingle. She nudged gently at you, fingers tilting your chin up to her,
“Would you like to stay tonight?”
“Thought you’d never ask.” You grinned, and she chuckled, easily moving you into her lap, your legs straddling hers as her hands trailed across your bare thighs.
“Well you did say tonight was a date, right?” She murmured, smiling at the way your hands cupped her face, hovering above hers, “you missed out on dinner, doesn’t mean you have to miss out on dessert.”
“I like the sound of that…” you let out a small gasp as her hands shifted, groping at your ass under your dress.
Only a moment later her lips were on yours, all and any worries or qualms from the day vanishing from your thoughts as she began to unravel you.
_________________-
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Lisa in…attacked
Lisa took the pizza from the delivery boy, giving him a quick smile and tipping him well. It smelled good and she was hungry. She locked the door of her house, took the food over to the sofa in her living room and put on a film.
It was good to be home. After several long weeks away travelling and engaging in various hits and tasks around the world, she was finally back in her own place. The fridge was bare and she decided to allow herself a little treat, indulging in some takeaway food whilst curled up in her t-shirt and leggings.
Her mobile phone rang next to her and she saw it was an unknown number. She sighed and decided not to answer it. Her regular contractors had tried to reach her in recent days she knew, and she was not ready to have the conversation with them. She took a slice of pizza and settled in to relax. At the very least, Lisa reasoned, she would allow herself to enjoy her food in peace.
She got halfway through the film before her phone rang again. She decided to answer it this time and tried to put on a calm and innocent demeanour. “Hello” she said politely.
“Lisa, it’s Michael”. His voice sounded tense.
“Evening Michael, you’re working late” she said, trying to use good manners to diffuse any tension between them.
“Where’ve you been?” he asked.
“Here and there” Lisa answered truthfully, “spent some time out east, then headed to Europe for a bit. It’s my holiday time”.
“Holiday…or a working break” Michael said, his voice still tense. Lisa paused, unsure how to answer. “Look, Lisa, we need you to stop some of this….other work” Michael continued, “the bosses aren’t happy, Lisa, you’re supposed to be working for us”.
“I do work for you” Lisa countered, “but I’m a contractor, and frankly how I spend my time is none of your business”.
Michael’s voice laughed down the phone. “Yeah, you don’t honestly believe that, do you?” he said. “It’s one thing fucking up some English pricks in the Med, it’s another working for Marina DaFuckingCosta”.
“Who says I even know who that is?”
“Oh come on Lisa” Michael scoffed, “do you honestly think we don’t know where you are every single day?”. He sighed. “I don’t know if this relationship is working at present”.
Lisa bit her lip. Did he really mean that they knew where she was all the time? She was careful. Maybe it was a bluff designed to scare her. “What are you saying Michael?” she asked.
“I’m saying you should carefully consider what work you take. Ms. DaCosta has upset a fair few long term clients”.
Lisa allowed herself a wry smile. She could imagine that was the case. “Well…OK” she said, “I’ll consider it”.
“I’m working on a job for you” Michael said, “something should be with you in the next 72 hours”.
“And as always, I’ll give it my utmost consideration” Lisa said slightly sarcastically.
“You’ll do it” Michael said, “no questions asked”.
“I’ll consider it” Lisa said forcefully, “I’m not taking on any fucking lackeys work here Michael, I’m better than that”.
“OK” he said, “and then….then maybe we can talk about the future, making sure this arrangement works for everyone”.
“I would like that” Lisa said. “I can make that work”.
“OK. Night Lisa” he said.
“Goodnight” she said softly, and they both hung up the phone. She bit her lip again. In truth the work she had done for Marina had been more fulfilling, not just financially but also in other regards. She wondered if Michael was serious about talking about the future. “Guess we’ll find out in a couple of days” she said to herself, before returning to her film to distract herself and her thoughts.
When it finished, she went upstairs and got ready for bed, changing into a blue silk nightshirt and sprawling in her large bed. The sheets were clean and it had the familiar feel that made her know she was back home. She closed her eyes and drifted peacefully to sleep…
A buzz on her phone made her eyes open sharply. She grabbed it and saw the time read 1:02am but also that a battery-powered sensor she had next to the back door of her house had been activated. She tried to access the camera that pointed towards it from her phone but saw it had no picture.
‘The power’s off’ she said in her head. She listened as hard as her ears allowed and heard a soft noise from downstairs. There was an intruder in her house. Another slight creak told her there was more than one.
Lisa didn’t panic. She had always known this day may come and had prepared for this eventuality. Her anger would not get the better of her. The house was pitch black but she knew every inch of it by heart. She slipped quietly out of her bed, stuffing a couple of pillows where she had been sleeping under the covers. She opened the cabinet in her bedside table and retrieved a small black bag that she slung over her shoulders.
There were a couple more creaks and Lisa could tell that whoever was coming for her was climbing the stairs. From her best guess there would be three people. That was standard procedure for eliminating a potentially problematic asset like herself. They would all be well-trained and heavily armoured. A straight firefight would not work for her.
She opened the window from her room as quietly as possible and stepped out with her bare feet onto the ledge. Using her strength, she climbed onto a pipe, then hoisted herself up to the roof as quietly and slowly as she dared. She sat there for a couple of seconds as she opened the bag. Inside was a thigh holster that contained a loaded Sig-P230, a suppressor and a sharp knife. Lisa strapped it to her thigh and then threaded the suppressor onto the pistol.
Pfft-pfft, pfft-pfft-pfft, pfft-pfft. It was the unmistakable quiet sound of a suppressed submachine gun being fired. There were three attackers her ears confirmed, and they had all fired into her bed, hitting where she would have been placed.
Lisa knew their next move would be to split up and find her, and that would give her the advantage. She moved across her roof with her bare feet, not caring about the cold night air on her bare legs. She kept following her plan, and reached a drainpipe that she had practiced climbing both up and down. She gripped it with her thighs and used her military training to get herself down to the bottom without making a noise, her muscles burning in places but her adrenaline and senses razor sharp.
She paused when she reached the bottom and looked in through one of the back doors. She could just about make out the shape of a man in black with night-vision goggles over his balaclava, fully decked out in body armour, but mainly visible by the green laser sight that was at the bottom of his submachine gun.
Lisa ducked back, not wanting to be seen in the window as he turned round. She could see the laser sight going through the ground to ceiling glass doors and onto the grass of her back garden. She could work out from its trajectory where the man was in her back room and slowly drew her Sig-P230 from her thigh holster.
When the laser pointed the other way, she made her move. The glass on the door was thin, and her bullets were high-powered. She bent down low and strafed, firing towards where her instincts told her the man’s legs would be. Pfft-pfft. The glass popped and she heard a shout of pain. As the man dropped her arm raised slightly and -pfft- she fired once through his head.
There was no time to admire the skill. She moved around to the other back door and slipped in. The man’s shouts would surely have brought his colleagues running towards his position. She heard their footsteps approaching where she had been and used the opportunity to slip further into her utility room. She hid around a corner as she saw the approaching of a green laser sight into the room and then quickly moved into her living room, keeping quiet and barefoot on the soft carpeted floor.
She ducked behind a sofa and saw the green laser sight pass over her head and position. She kept still, knowing any movement from her position would make her visible to her opponent’s night vision goggles. She listened for his footsteps and Lisa could see in her head where he was in the room. He moved past her and she leapt behind him, brandishing her knife in her hand.
The assailant turned towards her, raising his submachine gun as he did but she blocked it with an elbow and used her hand with the knife to jam the blade into his throat. He gurgled and his hands went to his throat, dropping his gun as he did. Lisa dropped to the ground and picked it up. It was a Heckler & Koch UMP.45 and she aimed it towards the hall the man had entered by.
Sure enough, his colleague came dashing into the room but as soon as she caught a glimpse of his movement, Lisa’s finger was pulling the trigger. Pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft–pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft. She let out a long stream of bullets into his chest, dropping him to the floor.
He was panting as she ran over to him and reaching for his gun that had fallen to his side. The body armour had done a good job of protecting him but he was clearly winded. Lisa kicked his UMP to the side and pointed the green laser sight towards his head. “Michael sent you yes?” she asked the man.
“F..f…fuck you” the man wheezed back, still catching his breath. Pfft-pfft. Lisa put two bullets into the man’s head, watching it snap back from the impact of her rounds.
She sighed and cursed silently in her head. She considered and then decided to activate another of her emergency protocols. Lisa ran upstairs and grabbed another bag from under her bed, looking at where the bullets from the men had torn her sheets. Still in her nightshirt, she jogged downstairs. She took off the balaclava of the man she had stabbed, his eyes now vacant. She photographed his face with the spare phone she found in her bag then headed to the garage of her home. There was one road that led to her home whereas around the back was miles of woodland. If there was another attack, she knew what direction it would come via.
Lisa paused to put on a pair of leggings and heavy boots, and added a leather jacket for warmth. She put on a biker's helmet and then turned to the old cross-country motorbike she had fixed up on a previous occasion. She took off on it, veering into the woods and crossing over the dirt paths to make her escape.
After a few miles, Lisa glanced back in the direction of her house. She knew she would never see it again. She finally allowed her anger to grow at the betrayal and in that moment, she knew revenge would now be her ultimate goal. She would find Michael and the entire contract agency, and burn them all to the ground. Her bike growled and she continued the journey through the woods, planning her next moves as she did so.
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All my love is gone • mingi
↬ pairing: idol! mingi x reader
↬ genre: angst, fantasy
↬ warnings: mentions of breakup
↬ word count: 0.9k+
↬ author’s note: this has been dying in my drafts, but an argument with my ex helped me finish it. also fuck my ex, i hate her existence
sequel of i'm covered in the colours of you
A group of familiar faces flash across the TV screen as you peacefully have your breakfast in the living room. Caught in surprise, you drop your spoon in the cereal bowl when The name of the K-pop group, you dearly know, pops up on the screen. Wiping the milk spilled on your face due to your silly reaction, you pick up the remote to turn up the volume and listen to the news anchor briefing about them.
“This morning, South Korea’s famous boy band ATEEZ arrived at the Gimpo airport for their flight to London, starting their 4th Europe tour scheduled to entertain fans in metropolitan cities across the continent. They were greeted by a crowd of fans, bidding them goodbye for their 2-month-long tour, which featured many Asian and European artists opening for them.” The anchor narrates, followed by a clip of the group’s appearance at the airport.
An ounce of pain surges through your broken heart as you catch a glance of your former lover standing alongside his bandmates outside the airport terminal. The infamous rapper shares his charming smile with the audience present to bid him farewell, and receives a cheer in response. He waves towards the mere footmen of the media industry; the reporters and cameraman, as the group head inside the airport. He slings a bag across his shoulders, and it is oddly similar to the one you gifted him months ago.
“Min-a…” his name slips off your lips as your eyes cloud with the emerging tears at the sight of your former lover. Why is moving on from him this hard? He’s just someone you once dated… or Maybe it’s the fact that you were once bound in the shackles of love, with the veins of his name tying themselves around your heart.
You check your phone, hoping to be greeted by a text from him but to your avail, not even a call from your lover had graced the device in your hand. A frown decorates your lips, as disappointment subsides in your heart.
You find yourself reminiscing the moments when your notifications were flooded with morning texts from him and sometimes a goodnight text you missed by sleeping early. His cute and adorable face would greet your eyes every morning and on special occasions, you would wake up in his calming embrace. The only memories remaining of him are the pictures you took when he had been busy staring at an inanimate object in the distance, or rather embracing the beauty of it.
The morning has been ruined, spewing salt on your unhealed wounds as it sours your mood and descends your heart in the pool of hopelessness. Will you ever love again? The lingering question captivates your attention, distracting you from anything more important. But at the moment, all you could do was grieve his absence because, Will he ever come back? Will he ever welcome you in his warm embrace? Will he ever…..
A month has passed by without his return, his sweet voice, his calming words, his pretty gifts and his comforting embrace. It is hard to believe how everything suddenly distanced itself from you. Your room which had a glistening glow during his stay faded to depressing blues. The flowers breathing in your windowsill no longer bring you joy. Pictures no longer amuse you as your lips don’t curl up the same way ever since he left.
The universe's punishment is very obvious, as breaking it’s favourite person's heart could result in circumstances more severe. His scent lingers everywhere as if itched onto your skin for the rest of your existence to remind you of him and let your heart drown in the sorrow of breaking apart.
It had been your mistake. A little one but, how could it go this far? It was your mistake for dropping his hand, to leave him alone and let the darkness consume him. If it weren’t for that night, everything would have been perfect.
Oh, your wretched and cursed fates were to blame for, well everything. Who could ever love someone like you, who could never return their feelings? Perhaps it had been your failed relationships with people which scarred you, numbing you to any emotion.
But with mingi, everything had been different.
He taught you love, how to love yourself and things around you. You were dearly grateful to him, for teaching things you could never learn.
He taught you how to smile, by greeting you with his precious one every morning. Oh dear, does he know that his sweet lips parting to show a tootsie grin was your favourite thing to watch?
He taught you the secret language of flowers by gifting them every thursday. He knew Thursdays trapped you in its fingers, making you feel terrible about everything and his contribution helped a lot. It brought tears to your eyes, to learn how lovely it is, to breathe in such heavenly fragrances that remind you of him.
He taught you how beautiful words are, and made you fall in love with writing them to him every time you were unable to say anything. But some words are supposed to remain unsaid, buried in your chest and your foolish heart stays unaware of that.
A tiny mistake, slipping the wrong words off your lips and they leave you alone when mingi had promised they would never strand you, he would never strand you. Their promises- his promises to forever stay by his side were broken and there was no way to repair them.
#mingi#song mingi#underworldnet#ateez#ateez mingi#mingi scenarios#ateez x reader#ateez smut#ateez imagine#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#song mingi fluff#ateez au#ateez fanfic#mingi smut#mingi x reader#mingi angst
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Strings Attached
Author's Note: I like Clem, but I hate that he did this. A tiny tag to 3x11's opening Jane/Clem scene, with underlying Jeller. Very angsty, and no happy ending in sight. I do think Jane would still ask for Clem to be included on the mission after this happened, because she wanted his expertise, and as a fuck-you to Kurt.
***
Jane stared down at Clem's hand. It rested on her thigh, warm and suggestive, and a tendril of desire unfurled in her abdomen. Why not? There's no ring on this finger anymore. And it would be so good to forget about all this, just for a little while.
She was too emotionally exhausted and indecisive to make herself move, either towards him, or away.
Kurt would be so--
She discarded the thought before it could blossom. Kurt had betrayed her.
But she'd been hiding something from him, too. Disgust rose to drown out her attraction to Clem - at Kurt, at herself...
At Clem, for trying this now, tonight, right after she'd unburdened herself.
He's never known me when I wasn't grieving. In Europe, it was for my old life, and Kurt, and Roman choosing Shepherd over me. Now, it's for Avery. Why am I confiding in him about this, and about Kurt? He's the worst person I could have come to.
She shifted, got to her feet, made her excuses. Clem asked her to stay, told her he'd keep his hands to himself, and anger dragged itself from its bed of numb exhaustion.
He's a good man - I know him well enough to know that much. But I just told him what I'm going through. He knows how much pain I'm in. This feels all wrong. And what secrets is he keeping from me?
She made herself keep things light, hugged Clem, told him she'd text him tomorrow. Maybe she was a little abrupt, because he reached out to her as she stepped past the threshold of his hotel room.
"Jane, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push."
She looked back and saw sincerity there, but also longing. The same kind of heartbroken look Kurt had been giving her all week, but with none of the guilt.
This wasn't Europe, and she wasn't the Jane Clem had fallen for. That Jane had died the instant she'd seen Kurt's wedding ring, still on his finger after eighteen months apart.
"Yes, you did," she told Clem, attempting to soften the words with a smile. "Goodnight."
She didn't stick around to hear his reply, pushing through the door to the stairwell at a brisk walk. She made it down two flights of stairs before sinking into a crouch on the bottom step, hunching over herself and sobbing silently against her knees.
All she'd wanted was empathy from someone with no connection to her husband, but Clem's support came with strings attached, that much was plain. Now she felt more isolated than ever.
Avery was dead. Her marriage was dead. Her friendship with Clem was on life support, replaced by something far more complicated than she'd ever wanted - now that he'd tasted more, they couldn't go back.
If Roman had wanted her as alone and heartbroken, he'd succeeded.
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so i believe cohdopia/allebahst & babahl could be somewhere in northern italy. quercus alba and colias palaeno have the scientific names of a tree and a butterfly respectively, therefore, they are both latin (though i have no fucking idea what colias palaeno actually means in latin, or if it actually is fully latin because i cant find shit about its naming, but quercus alba still stands. the only thing i can figure out about colias palaeno is that “colias” is either latin or greek) and therefore, i think they could come from somewhere that speaks a romance language. I think italy is probably the best bet because it’s a lot closer to latin. Im pretty sure (i could be wrong) that Palaeno gives you either a coupon or a postcard about mountains in babahl at one point, and since somewhere in the heart of italy seems a little unlikely to me (a country that is liable to split in half is something that is easily gobbled up by other nations, that threat is exacerbated to a million if that nation is surrounded by one singular other nation), im saying somewhere around either the alps or the maritime alps. Palaeno is also pretty tan, which makes the most sense (assuming he’s largely ethnically babahlese, which he could very easily not be) if he’s from southern europe. And Manny is short for Emmanuel, which is a pretty christian name, though I don’t know how common it is just for that reason in italy despite its heavy catholicism. Tourism is also a pretty prominent industry in italy, so there’s parallels with babahl there.
Also i dont think the location of any of the species used as names matters because cohdopia is stated to be european, but white oaks (quercus alba’s namesake) are not native to europe, theyre native to north america. The names of the nations are also pretty distinctly not latin, but also, that could be easily chalked up to english bastardizations (that happens a lot—you will probably be surprised at hungary and finland’s real names, and we probably all know the weird ass deal with germany).
pretty shaky premises? yeah. but to be quite honest with you there are far shakier and stupider cases in ace attorney that some people still love so its okay. if you have a better idea or more evidence feel free to add, but honestly, there is so little evidence for where cohdopia could be that i dont think theres really all that much more you could say. Honestly i think you could probably find leads for a different spot in europe using the symbols on the flags or even the architecture of the embassy or using some real world analogue to whitcrystal oil, but im not really aching to look into that right now.
Romania may also be a contender lol.
this was all so i could figure out what language family to base a potential conlang off of lol. fuckin goodnight i shouldve already been asleep an hour and a half ago
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Imagine being homophobic,,, like it's not a phobia but imagine if you were actually terrified everytime you see a homo,,,,, just jump up like a cat in shock,,,, like if you were afraid of heights,,, but,,,, the lgbt,,,,
#Just#Why#Can't i live I'm so sick of this SHIT#IT SUCKS WHEN IT'S LIKE UR OHOHO UR OVERSENSITIVE#AND THEN PEOPELBDKSHFKSJFKSJFKDKFKFK#YOU KNOW#The first time I went outside Asia and to Europe#I was like wow this is rad#You know gayness more#Then I compare it to where I live and I'm like this sucks#I could be killed for this#Is it so wrong to kiss my bro goodnight#AND THEY DONT EVEN KNOW HOW TO USE THE PROPER GRAMMAR#Words I heard last night#"there's something wrong with Shang because he has homosexal tenancies#He is a bi#A BI?????#WHY NOT JUST BI#SHANG IS BI WHAT THE FUCK IS A BI
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you know that one scene in ffh when people keep knocking on the door while fury is trying to speak to peter? could you maybe do something like that but instead it’s peter and stark reader wanting some alone time (you can make it smut or fluff idm!) also, i am so in love with your work it’s amazing :)❣️
knock before you enter
w/c: 1.3k
warnings: implied smut, dirty jokes, swearing
a/n: i went a lil overboard because i was having too much fun :,) and i kinda combined the two i hope that’s okay!
-
you let out a breath of relief as peter finally presses his lips to yours. he grins at that, his hands continuing to roam your body while you kiss. it’s a needy kiss, one you’ve been waiting the whole day to share.
you’d thought europe of all places would give you the opportunity to explore each other more. you’re away from your overbearing father, you don’t have team responsibilities. there was one mishap with a water monster nearly destroying the city. you both managed to fight it off together. tony was right to make you bring your suit, and may encouraged her nephew to do the same. the stark’s and parker’s think alike.
most of the pestering you’ve faced this trip has come from your teachers and fellow classmates. whether it’s mr. dell assigning work or flash trying to film you two for a livestream, you and peter can’t get a moment alone. that’s about to change. you’re in peter’s hotel room after a fun yet highly supervised day in venice.
most kids are getting ready for bed, at mr. harrington’s request. he’s adamant on everyone having a good night sleep before the walking tour you’re taking tomorrow. you and peter plan to do everything but sleep, however.
“you taste like toothpaste,” peter mumbles against your mouth, arms winding around your back. “is that a good or bad thing?” you giggle and tug at his undone curls. that elicits a high pitched whine from him. “depends on who you ask. me personally, i think it’s sexy.” he’s laying over you on his bed, your fingers tangling in his locks. “open up, then,” you practically purr. peter happily obliges and resumes his kissing.
right when his tongue glides over your lower lip, there’s a knock on the wall.
“i thought you said ned wouldn’t be back…” your words trail off when peter starts to kiss down your neck. “for a while,” you add, softer. “he won’t. last time i checked, he was with betty,” peter replies and effortlessly finds your sweet spot. he nudges it with his nose, making a smile spread across your face. “ok, keep going,” you pull on the roots of his hair gently. peter pecks at your lips. “gotcha, baby.”
he’s kissing his way back to your sweet spot when there’s more knocking, this time much louder. with quirked eyebrows, peter detaches his lips from your skin. “um… hello?” he hesitantly answers. “finally. i was ready to come kick down your door, you idiot,” mj speaks through the thin wall. you squeeze your eyes shut in annoyance, not saying anything. “what do you want, mj? it’s late,” peter sighs back.
“so what? i know you’re not sleeping,” mj insists, leaning against the wall. “i can hear everything. hey, y/n.” peter’s face tints a light shade of pink. you make wide eyes up at him. “hi, i guess. you good over there?” her lips form a line. “i was until the horrendous sounds of parker clapping your cheeks disturbed my reading.” peter grips at your waist with a pout.
“what? we weren’t- i- i didn’t-“ “spare me the details,” mj sharply cuts in, opening whatever mystery novel she recently bought. “i don’t care what you do, as long as you do it quietly. deal?” seeing as peter is too flustered to speak, you take over again. “yeah, sorry. we’ll tone it down. goodnight, em.” “ciao,” she says before returning to her book.
peter shakes his head, fully burying his face in your neck. “that was embarrassing. she’s so…” “nosy,” you finish for him. your fingers brush back some hair that flopped over his forehead. “at least she’s not telling on us or whatever.” he puffs air out of his cheeks, placing a kiss under your chin. “true. you wanna pick up where we left off?” “ugh, yes,” you instantly groan.
your lips are colliding with peter’s again, just like that. it isn’t for too long. his hands settle on your stomach and under your shorts, then you hear someone banging on the door. they talk before either you or peter can tell them to fuck off.
“y/n, is that you?” brad questions, your face twisting in confusion. “uh, yeah. how’d you know?” peter bites the inside of his cheek while brad converses. “i stopped by your room. betty said you might be here… with him.” the him in question is peter, who chuckles bitterly. “what’s up, buddy? we’re kind of in the middle of something. i’m sure you knew that, too.”
“i didn’t, but thanks for sharing,” brad sarcastically responds. “y/n said she’d give me her notes on one of the da vinci exhibits.” peter cocks his head to the side. “she did?” he wonders, looking over at you. “you did?” “it was either that or help him myself,” you explain and drag your fingers along the back of his neck soothingly. “the kid doesn’t leave me alone.”
peter nods, wrapping a protective arm around your middle. “she’ll give you them tomorrow, brad. isn’t it past your bedtime?” “point taken,” brad scoffs and heads back to his room. you draw peter in closer to you. “thanks, pete. hopefully, that’ll be our last guest for the night.” he kisses both your cheeks with a grin. “where were we, mio amore?”
“ooh, i love it when you speak italian,” you giggle, peter cupping your face in his hands.“grazie, bellissima.” he winks and earns a puzzled face from you. “bellissima?” “that means beautiful.” instead of responding with words, you use your mouth to move on his. peter happily kisses back and lets your tongues intertwine. things quickly heat up, peter slipping your shorts down your legs and you lifting his pajama shirt.
you’re both only half undressed and running off broken up kisses, but so desperate. you part your legs for peter, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your panties. “think you can keep your oath of silence?” he teases and nips at your covered collarbone. “the real question is, can you?” you challenge. peter doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door suddenly flies open.
there stands ned, his mouth agape at the sight of a shirtless peter undressing you. you’re the first to notice. you see over peter’s shoulder and gasp. concern covers his features. “what is it, baby? do you want-“ “ned!” you whisper yell. his concern becomes shock. “you want ned?” “no, peter! he’s right there!” teeth sinking into your lip, you point behind him. peter looks and surely enough, there’s his best friend rendered speechless in the doorway.
“dude, what the hell are you doing here?” peter squeaks, you grabbing your shorts from next to you. he turns around to shield you while you put them back on. “aren’t you supposed to be with betty?” “we, um, finished,” ned gulps in response. “finished what- oh.” peter scratches the back of his neck as it hits him. “yuck, ned. a gentleman never tells.” “says you! this is my room too, you know,” he defends himself, you moving out from behind peter.
“and betty’s room is also mine. consider us even,” you hand peter his t-shirt with a satisfied smirk. he murmurs a thank you and throws it back on. ned uncomfortably shifts from foot to foot in the doorway. “that’s fair… are you leaving now?” “i should before mr. harrington makes his rounds,” you reluctantly decide. “i liked it better when people actually knocked,” peter says under his breath, standing to give you a goodnight hug.
“it’s not even this bad at home. i’ll take my dad and friday spying on us over a walk of shame any day,” you exhale as peter pulls you into his chest. hugging back by his torso, you give him an innocent kiss on the cheek. his lips brush your forehead. “maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow. should we try again, same time?” a familiar and irritated voice yells through the wall. mj.
“please god, no!”
#peter parker#peter parker fluff#peter parker smut#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#peter parker fic#peter parker fanfiction#tom holland#tom holland fluff#tom holland smut#tom holland imagine#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#marvel
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