#DJANGO HAS ME ON THE FLOOR

[mingtinys]

SLOW IT DOWN MAKE IT BOUNCY ❗️❗️🗣🗣🗣🗣

[wandafiction]

Declarations - Just Us Chapter 59

Warnings 18+: Shower Sex, Oral (Wanda Receiving), Praise, Teasing, Squirting, Aftercare

Word Count: 4244

Series List | Chapter 58 | Chapter 60

================================

So here I am sitting on Wanda's couch with my head in my hands, as Wanda prepares our food since I ruined the dinner plans. I think she is getting the pizza out of the freezer, which is definitely not some posh pasta dish but it's still good. Vision was in the wrong, I had a right to say what I said and walk out didn't I? I think I did the right thing. I mean I also did make a scene and I promised myself I wouldn't. God why did he have to say what he did, why couldn't he have just kept his mouth shut. Why couldn't I keep mine shut? I'm a fucking idiot he isn't going to want me around the twins, let alone take them to fucking Canada. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

"Y/n." I jump slightly when I feel Wanda’s hand on my back not hearing her make her way over, her voice is soft doing her best in keeping me calm. No doubt she is angry with me or something. I feel Wanda's hand move off of my back, finding a new home on my knee and her other hand comes to rest on my other knee as well. I lift my face out of my hands to look up at Wanda as she bends down to match my height, her attentive eyes on me make my bottom lip quiver and my eyes gloss over.

"I'm sorry Wanda." I bury my face back into my hands as a sob takes over me. "I...I am so, so sorry. I didn't want any of that to happen tonight. I. He. I ruined everything."

"Baby you did absolutely nothing wrong. Vision needs to be the one apologising." Wanda's thumbs rub at my knees, as I lift my head up once again, wiping my eyes with my hands. "You did nothing wrong. You stood up for yourself, and Zak and others. You did good."

"Okay." She gives me a half smile knowing I don't quite believe her but doesn't force her words on me anymore.

"Okay. Well why don't you get changed, the pizzas will be cooking by the time you're back." 

"I love you Wanda." I watch as she melts at my words, her eyes full of love and adoration.

"I love you too Y/n." Wanda leans forward planting a chaste kiss on my lips before standing up. She holds her hands out for me to take and when I do she pulls me up till I'm standing in front of her, and her thumbs start circling over my knuckles.

"I really do love you Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n." 

"And I really do love you Wanda Django Maximoff." She beams up at me pulling me into an almost feverish kiss. "It will be a late dinner if you continue."

"Yeah, Yeah go get changed." She swats my butt playfully as I start to walk away and I shoot her a small wink as I look back over my shoulder. "Hey! No, that's not funny. Don't think I forgot about the little restroom incident, leaving me high and dry like that." 

"Well from my understanding you were most certainly not dry when I left you." I catch the couch cushion that comes right for my face and then duck the next one as Wanda grumbles to herself. "Aww is my baby girl in need of my attention. I thought last night would have made you want a break." 

"I could never want a break from you." I watch carefully as Wanda bites her lips, her eyes moving up and down my body like she is seeing what is underneath my clothes.

Well she has seen it enough times to have it memorised. But I catch her sneaky little hand going for another couch cushion so it doesn't surprise me when one comes flying toward my head, again. This time I lean to the left, catching it with my right hand before letting it drop to the floor and I smile when I see Wanda's jaw open slightly. 

"Okay not only are you teasing me, but I can't even get you back for it. Are you some sort of ninja with those relaxes?" Wanda huffs out a laugh as I gently toss all the cushions back onto the couch.

"No, just too quick I guess." 

"Whatever you say. But if you don't hurry then there is going to be no pizza to eat and you will go hungry because I will have eaten it all. Shoo go get changed." 

"You've not even put it in the oven yet and I would say I know a few other ways to fill me up." Wanda raises a quizzical eyebrow towards me. "Just have you for my breakfast, lunch and dinner." 

I smirk as Wanda's face flushes red and she turns it away from me slightly trying to hide it, grumbling to herself about me teasing her. I saunter my way over to where she is standing, her head moving so her eyes can watch my movements, her bottom lip between her teeth. I turn to the side as I slowly brush past her, bringing my mouth down to her ear breathing hot air into. Her eyes flutter closed, a sigh leaving her lips and I use her distracted state to loop my fingers through the belt loop of her pants and start dragging her with me as I walk backwards towards the hallway. Once she realises we are on the move, her eyes open now just a small slither of color visible as she allows me to pull her to her room. 

Wanda's hands make their way to my arms and she starts stroking them up and down, her lust filled eyes moving to our surroundings when I pull us into her ensuite. I remove one of my hands from her belt loops, leaning into the shower and turning it on so it can heat up. I loop my finger back through the belt loop and pull her body flush against mine, her head tilting back so she can see me. Her hands leave my arms, cupping my face as she pulls me into a passionate kiss. My hands immediately start fumbling with the buttons on her pants, unzipping them and pushing them down her legs. She wiggles them down and steps out of them, kicking them away from us so we don't trip. 

I move my hand down to her clothed core and start rubbing at her clit with two fingers, her head falling against my chest as her hips try to push against my hand. I feel a wet spot growing in her underwear the more a rub circles, the sighs leaving Wanda's mouth causing a shiver to go down my spine. I push her underwear to the side and run a finger through her folds earning me a small moan, Wanda's hands now holding the back of my neck for support. I run two fingers through her folds this time, dipping them in her entrance slightly before removing them and going back to circle her clit with soft touches to rile her up.

"Y/n please." 

"Please what baby?"

"I need you." She husks out as her hips push against my fingers trying to get them where she needs them. Instead I pull them away and she groans against my chest at the loss of feeling. I use my other hand to tilt her head up to look back up at me, and I see her swallow harshly at the smirk I have on my face. I bring my fingers that are coated in her juices up in front of her face, pushing them towards her mouth. 

"Suck." Wanda's lips immediately wrap around my two fingers and she moans at the taste of herself, her tongue swirling around them in a frantic Manner. I pull them out of her mouth, putting them in my mouth and smile at the taste that remains on them. "Be a good girl and strip for me." 

Wanda let's out a small moan at the name, and starts pulling her clothes off slowly giving me a show. When she is only in her bra and underwear, she slowly drags her hands behind her back unclipping her bra and slides it down her arms allowing it to drop to the floor. I feel my mouth water at the sight of her perky breasts, her nipples already hard. Wanda's breathing starts to pick up, as I drink her in with my eyes moving closer to her as I remove my own clothes. I hook my thumb around the hem of her underwear and push it down her legs until they freely fall to the floor. I place my hand on her chest, gently pushing her into the shower under the water as I close the door behind me. 

I put my hands on her waist pushing her back against the tiled wall of the shower, causing a gasp to leave her mouth. I connect our lips, my thumbs rubbing small circles on the thin skin on her hips, a moan leaving her mouth. I push my tongue into her mouth, with no fight from Wanda, and explore her mouth until air becomes a problem. I move my kisses down Wanda's neck, nipping and sucking at the skin as I move across it, sighs and moans living Wanda's mouth as I tease her more. Her hands wrap around my neck, grasping onto the hair back there as I bite down on her pulse point before soothing it with my tongue. 

I move my lips down from her neck to her collar bone, my hands dancing up her stomach and when they reach her breasts I give them a squeeze. I smile at the moan that leaves Wanda's lips as I continue to massage her breasts. I take her hard nipple into my mouth, swiping my tongue over it, and her hand shoots to the top of my head subconsciously pushing it down. I fight it off as I move my mouth to her other nipple, taking it into my mouth as my tongue swirls around it. Wanda's back arches, a guttural moan leaving her lips as I graze my teeth over the hard nub. 

"Baby please." I smile against her breast at her breathy pleads, deciding not to tease her anymore. I allow my tongue to lick a stripe down her abdomen feeling her muscles tense under it. I move to my knees, the warm water of the shower now hitting my back, as I move my mouth to her left hip. I suck at the skin, before taking it between my teeth and Wanda's grip on my hair tightens as I soothe it with my tongue and smile at the fresh purple mark I see. I pepper kisses across to her other hip, giving it the same treatment and her moans start to fill the shower my name passing through her lips. 

"Y/n…" her voice is breathy and small as I move my kisses down to her thighs avoiding the place she needs me most. I rest my left cheek on her right thigh as I tilt my head to look at her.

"Princess?" Wanda's head tilts downwards, a silent plea on her face as she bites her lips when I drag my hands down her body to her butt. I squeeze it gently, her back arching off the wall once more as she tugs on my head a little a moan leaving my mouth at the pleasurable pain.

"No more teasing. I need you."

"What do you need?" I kiss up her thigh once more enjoying the pleasurable sighs that leave her lips. A small moan leaves her lips, her head pressing against the wall as I press them gently against her clit before moving them down her other thigh stopping at her knee once again. She moves her head back down to look at me, her chest rising up and down quickly, one hand in my hair the other against the wall. What a beautiful sight to see before me, Wanda coming undone at the smallest of touches.

"I need you. Your fingers, your tongue. Please just fuck me, use me, anything." Her hips buck when I move my hands through her folds, a loud moan leaving her lips. I move them back to push harsh tight circles against her clit, her head rests against the wall as her back arches off of it. She pulls on my hair again trying to get my mouth to where she wants it, but I smirk against her knee and slowly drag my tongue up her leg. I use my free hand to lift her left leg over my shoulder, running my hands through her folds once more. She groans and grumbles when I remove them, only to moan when I attach my mouth to her clit. Her hips grind against my face as I move my tongue through her slick and into her entrance. A guttural moan leaves her lips at the feeling of the muscle inside her. 

I move my fingers, with her juices on them, up to her mouth pushing it past her lips. Her hips buck against my face as she hums against my fingers and starts to swirl her tongue around them. My other hand massages her thigh that's resting on my shoulder as my tongue alternates between giving her clit attention and diving into her entrance. She moans without a filter when my teeth graze over the swollen and sensitive bud, pulling my face impossibly closer as I allow her hips to ride my face however she wants.

"Y/n I'm going to cum...please." She moans when I push my tongue back into her entrance, and my hand that was on her thigh moves upwards so I can press my thumb against her clit. 

"Cum for me baby girl." The vibrations of my words are enough to send Wanda into a blistering orgasm as her juices rush out and cover not only my face but my chest too, as her hips jutter against my face through the last of her high. She tugs on my hair pulling my face away, the continued use of my tongue on her core too much for her. I rest my chin on her hip bone as I watch her calm down, her hand staying in my hair as the other pushes the baby hairs off her forehead. I gently remove her leg from my shoulder and start to rub my hands up and down her thighs in a soothing manner. 

I move from my knees to my feet, so I can give her a few pecks on the lips which she struggles to reciprocate as she calms down. Wanda buries her head into the crook of my neck, I hold her waist as her arms wrap around my neck, trying to regulate her breathing. After a few minutes she pulls away, her eyes scanning my face and my chest and I smirk at the bright red blush the spread quickly. 

"Never knew you were a squirter." Wanda takes her lips between her teeth, her eyes flicking back to mine before she answers.

"Neither did I." I raise a surprised brow as she nods. "That was all you baby." 

"Well I can't wait to get you to do it again, and again and again and again." Wanda pushes her lips against mine to shut me up as she giggles against them.

"I can't wait either." Wanda's hand pushes mine away as I start to move it closer to her core. "Not yet, I'm too sensitive."

"Okay princess." I peck her lips a few times before moving away from her and under the hot stream of water, to wash her juices off of me. When I see her legs slightly shake as she moves towards me, my arms reach out as my hands grasp her waist. "I got you."

"I don't think I'm going to be able to walk." 

"That's okay. I will look after you. Let's get you washed, dried and changed into something comfy. Then I will cook the pizzas, and we can have a relaxed night on the couch."

"You're so good to me." Wanda stands on her tiptoes capturing my lips between hers. She gives the bottom lip attention nibbling at it gently before pulling away with it between her teeth and letting it go with a pop. 

"Only the best for my princess." 

"Your princess?" I hum in agreement. "I like it."

"And I love you."

"I love you too. Do you want me to do you baby?" I shake my head lightly stopping her hand from travelling down to my core.

"No, you're tired. And anyway tonight was all about you."

"Are you sure?"

"Im sure." I smile at the small relieved sigh that leaves her lips as she tiredly leans her forehead against my chest. She must be exhausted from our activities from last night and just now. My poor baby.

I quickly clean us both off, leaning to turn the shower off as I help Wanda step out and wrap her in a warm towel. Pulling her into the bedroom with me, I lay another towel down on the edge of the bed and gently push Wanda down to sit on the bed. I quickly get myself dried and changed before I grab her sleep clothes, placing them next to her and start to dry her off.

"Arms up princess." Wanda lazily lifts her arms up as I slot them through the holes in her t-shirt before pulling it over her head. I peck her lips a couple of times, which she tiredly reciprocates and then I move to dry her legs off. "Fuzzy socks or slippers?"

"Socks please." Wanda pouts cutely as she speaks with a child-like hint to her voice. 

"Of course." 

Wanda gives me her best smile as her eyes light up at the sight of her grey fuzzy socks. I pull her grey sweatpants up her legs first, pulling her arms around my neck so I can lift her up slightly and get them over her bum. I then put her socks on for her, making sure to tuck her sweatpants into them, giving her the extra comfort and warmth. As I am bent down I rest my hands on her knees and look up at her with my full attention on her beautiful face. My eyes search from her sharp jawline, to pronounced cheek bones which have light freckles scattered all over. She gives me her fuzzy smile, which causes small dimples to appear and her eyes shine brighter than I have seen them before as she looks down at me. When Wanda tilts her head in question, I lean up and peck her lips a few times that causes her to scrunch her nose and my heart skips a beat.

"I can't believe you're all mine." Wanda's brows scrunch together in confusion, and I lean up to kiss the space between them a few times until they relax.

"Well of course I'm yours. Who else's would I be?" I shake my head lightly, crossing my arms over her one another as they rest on her legs. Then move to rest my head on my forearms as I look up at her. Wanda's hand instantly makes its way down to my head and starts weaving through my hair, as the other one traces the edge of my features. 

"I just mean, I don't know what I did to ever deserve someone like you. Someone so attentive, so patient and understanding. Someone who adores me just as much as I adore them. Someone who accepts my broken pieces for what they are and doesn't try to force them back together, but instead takes their time making sure even the smallest of chips is back in the right place. Someone who sees me for me and not my wealth or I guess you can say the Stark family name. You take care of me, you protect me, you sit with me when I'm in a panic and help me to move forward with my life even if I get stuck in the past. You could have run a long time ago, I wouldn't have blamed you. People have run before, but you didn't. You stayed, you cared and you loved me. You love me so much, and when you show me that love in any way shape or form my heart skips a beat and my love for you grows every day. When you love me the way you do, I can see my whole future with you. And I know, I know we have only known each other for just over a month but you have buried yourself so deep within me that I can't escape you. And I don't want to escape you, I don't want to ever let you be anyone else's but mine. I love you so fucking much Wanda, it's scary how much I do but that only tells me that what I feel for you is as real as the clothes on our back. I don't really know where I was going with this, I think it was maybe an I adore you, or a thank you for staying but it sort of turned into this whole big declaration of my love. But that's what you do to me. You drive me crazy in the best possible way." 

"Are we married now?" I full on belly laugh at Wanda's reply, not expecting it at all but also she's right it did sound like my wedding vows. Wanda's hands cup my face and it's only now that I realise that she is crying so many happy tears. 

"Not yet. But maybe I should get you a promise ring to signify my declaration."

"I wouldn't say no to that." 

"Good to know." I go to say something else but Wanda pulls my face upwards into an emotional kiss as tears continue to fall from her eyes.

"My turn." Wanda rests her forehead against mine, as I press my lips together savouring the kiss, and her eyes look into my soul once more. I signal for her to continue and she takes in a shaky breath trying to calm herself down. She gives me an eskimo kiss as she lets out one more shaky breath before speaking.

"Y/n you are all those things and more. Not only do you care for me, you care for my boys as well, when I see you getting on with them, messing around with them, when you and Tommy are snuggled on the couch together. God even when the three of you are ganging up on me, my heart swells and grows with the amount of love it makes me feel. I feel so at peace but at the same time so full of adrenaline and joy when I am around you. Even just the simple act of holding hands is the best feeling in the world to me and you make sure that I never lose that touch when we are with one another. You also make sure that at least one part of us is always in contact with the other because you know how much I cherish and savour the touch. As you said yourself, touch is my love language, and jeez were you right. I can't get enough of it, of you. And before you lose your mind to the gutter I don't mean in just that way, it doesn't even have to be physical. The way you look at me, your eyes so full of love your way with words I melt at them and I feel so much love for you it hurts me. I'm scared too, I know it's cliché and probably over used but I've never truly felt this with anyone before. You are the person I want to wake up to every day, you are the person I want the boys to grow up around. You are the person who I love with my whole heart. You are my person Y/n. And I love all of you with all that I have."

I pull Wanda's face down smashing our lips together, not give a single fuck about how salty it is due to how many tears we have both shed. Our lips dance together for what feels like forever until I pull away first, needing to come up for air. We lean our foreheads against one another, both our hands on each other's faces as our thumbs rub gentle circles against one another's cheeks. A fuzzy smile grows on Wanda's face, her eyes flicking between mine and I can feel my own smile growing on my face at the sight and I can only assume mine shows as much love as Wanda's does as she brings out lips together in a slow but sensual kiss. When we pull away once again Wanda wraps her arms around my neck pulling my head against her chest, and I listen to the rapid beating of her heart. I wrap my arms around her torso holding her close, feeling my own heart pounding against my chest.

I'm all in from this point onwards.

================================

[djangoblack]

Django Black Ibiza Blackout Party Mix 2024 (Afrohouse) | Django Black

�� Django Black – Ibiza “Blackout” Party Mix 2024 – (Afrohouse) | Django Black https://ift.tt/ArlgJXh Are you ready to set the dance floor on fire with DJANGO BLACK’s “Ibiza ‘Blackout’ Summer Mix 2024”? This mix has all the vibrant Afrohouse rhythms and pulsating beats you need to keep your party going all night. Don’t forget to subscribe to stay updated with the latest tracks and festival vibes! Timestamps: 0:00 – Intro 0:01 – DJANGO BLACK feat PATTY LOU – WAVES (Extended) Download Now! 3:37 – Florence The machine – Spectrum (Say my name) [Marco Generani remix] 8:39 – Dennis Ferrer – Hey Hey (Jack Back Extended Remix) 13:55 – Disclosure – You Me ft. Eliza Doolittle (Rivo Remix) 19:03 – Dido – Thank You (Sentin Klub XIII Soundsystem Remix) 22:58 – Years & Years – Desire (Bask Extended Mix) 26:56 – Nelly Furtado – Say It Right (Faros Remix) 30:17 – Gnarls Barkley – Crazy (Arthur Miro Afro House Edit) 33:56 – Francis Mercier Magic System – Premier Gaou (Nitefreak Extended Remix) 38:21 – Sofiya Nzaw – Mwaki (Laureano Remix) 41:14 – Billy Ocean – Caribbean Queen (merchant solitude edit) 46:28 – Robbie Williams – Feel (Disla Danis Remix) 51:15 – Daryl Hall John Oates – Out Of Touch (Vidojean X Oliver Loenn Afro House Remix) 55:25 – Everything But The Girl – Missing (Mydoz David Hopperman Remix) 59:01 – Diplo HUGEL – Stay High (feat. Julia Church) [VIP] [Official Full Stream] 1:01:15 – RÜFÜS DU SOL – Next to Me (Vintage Culture Remix) 1:07:28 – Calvin Harris ft. Sam Smith – Desire (Rivo Extended Remix) 1:12:29 – (Bounus Track/Deep House) PATTY LOU – You’re Mines Still (Django Black Remix) Extended The video is about Django Black – Ibiza “Blackout” Party Mix 2024 (Afrohouse). but also tries to cover the following subjects: DJANGO BLACK Hits Ibiza Summer Vibes Top Afrohouse Tracks TITLE : Django Black – Ibiza “Blackout” Party Mix 2024 (Afrohouse) Songs is currently on your favorite platforms: Spotify: https://ift.tt/iJjgTwV Soundcloud: https://ift.tt/vqUxsaM Subscribe To My Channel For More Official Music: https://www.youtube.com/@djangoblack-official/?sub_confirmation=1 Stay Connected With Me: Instagram: https://ift.tt/WUpndbt Facebook: https://ift.tt/xKa4Bsm Website: https://ift.tt/uKFSw3M ========================= Other Videos You Might Be Interested In Watching: Django Black Ft. Patty Lou – “Waves” – (Cover Art Video) | Django Black ========================= About Django Black: Django Black are an electronic music group of visionary producers, DJs, and artists converged, driven by a shared passion for music and a desire to break free from industry norms. Django Black is more than a collective; it’s a movement—a rebellion against the status quo. Their fusion of Afro house, pop, soul, and dance music defies convention, forging a unique sonic identity that transcends genres. Through their beats, Django Black amplifies the voices of the marginalized, weaving a tapestry of empowerment and unity. For all Inquiries, bookings, remixes, colabs, please use the contact information below: Email: mgmt@djangoblack.com Subscribe to my channel for more great music: https://www.youtube.com/@djangoblack-official/?sub_confirmation=1 ========================= #djangoblack #ibizasummer2024 #afrohouse #blackout #summermix #partyplaylist #musicfestival #2024hits Disclaimer: We do not accept any liability for any loss or damage which is incurred from you acting or not acting as a result of reading any of our publications. You acknowledge that you use the information we provide at your own risk. Do your own research. Copyright Notice: This video and our YouTube channel contains copyrighted music and images. Any public, media and any other business usage is subject to business licence. Unauthorised usage and publications are prohibited. © Django Black from Django Black https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ipp7eaXkF28 via Django Black https://ift.tt/Yj8gk1c May 15, 2024 at 11:02PM

[whispersafterdusk]

Lost in Time - ch 22

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay and help?"

Django waved a hand, accompanied with a chuckle.  "I'm the one that knocked it over, I'm the one who'll clean it.  Go on - go enjoy the rest of the night and I'll see you in the morning."

Sonia giggled and turned for the door.  "If you catch me early enough I could go get a rug to hide any stains."

"Shoo, girl," Django laughed, and turned back to the reddish stain that still blotted the floor near the counter. ((Continued below cut))

Just a few moments earlier, as he was restocking things at the front counter, he'd bumped said counter and sent a bottle of hot sauce toppling into the floor; he wasn't sure who had left it there in the first place, and it HAD been on his list to put away...  Oh well.  At least it'd happened while they were already closed so the mess was contained and there wasn't any danger of someone getting glass in their foot. Of course, getting the aforementioned stain out of the wood grain might be a problem...  Some of the tables had little splotchy stains from mere dribbles of it -- he didn't hold much hope that he could erase an entire bottle worth of the stuff.

Well, he at least needed to try; in the back storage closet he had a small tin of powerful cleaning powder -- some extra heavy duty stuff he'd found in Ethea years ago.  It might eat the finish off the floor but it also might take the stain off with it.

As his hand closed around the tin he heard the creak of floorboards; it was a familiar sound, one he heard multiple times a day as people came and went -- there was a single board about five steps into the restaurant that was getting a bit wiggly and could do with replacing.  With the tin tucked under an arm Django headed back toward the front to see someone sitting at the bar, their back to him, and they didn't react as he approached.

"I'm afraid we closed about an hour ago - seems we forgot to lock the door so I apologize for that."

"I know you're closed."

Django paused, feeling the hair on his arms stand up; that was a voice he hadn't heard in ages.  "...what brings you in, then?"

The woman spun around; while he knew the voice he only knew that the face looked like a much older...what was the girl's name, Lily?  An aged Lily.  She was dressed...about as normally as one could be - she could walk the streets of Portia without anyone being the wiser.  In her lap she had a...parcel, of some kind -- it almost looked like a rolled up blanket, secured with a leather belt around the middle.

"I know you remember me.  And I know, given how we last parted ways, you have no reason to grant me anything.  Regardless, I wanted to ask for a favor."

Django was silent for a long moment, and kept his gaze squarely on her; that scar on his back that he'd been thinking about so much lately - SHE was the reason he had it and he'd no intention of giving her the chance to give him another one.  "...why?"

She sighed softly, and turned just enough to leave the parcel sitting on the counter behind her before facing him again (and keeping her hands conspicuously in the open, splayed across her lap).  "I am...aware of what has been going on in Portia.  Mostly.  My daughter has gotten mixed up with those responsible.  I would like the chance to extricate her from this mess, without interference."

"Why do you think I have any power over that?  Especially now that there's been killings."

She shook her head.  "She didn't do those.  My daughter...is an idiot - a very headstrong idiot - but she's not a killer.  However, the person she's working for IS a killer.  And I want the chance to get her away from them before she ends up in prison, or worse.  I've discovered and spoken to the unfortunate man she's roped in for her cover story, and tomorrow we will be taking a late dinner here.  Stall for time.  That's all I ask.  Keep us here until no one else remains - I will take care of the rest."

Slowly he shook his head.  "After all this time, and after you literally stabbed me in the back, you want both a favor AND for me to believe your story now?"

Ghost - what else could he call her? - stood.  "I do.  It's a simple request.  And if you can't do this, and I can't get my daughter out of here...I don't intend to shield her from the consequences.  All I can do is try one last time to convince her she's on the wrong path."

With that Ghost silently moved to the door - this time purposely avoiding that one squeaky board - and before Django could think of anything further he wanted, or needed, to say, she was gone into the night.

...and the parcel still sat on the counter.

Django sat the tin of cleaner on the nearest table and rubbed at his chin, staring at it.  Whatever it was, it shouldn't be anything harmful - that wasn't Ghost's style.  Or at least, it hadn't been.  Back in those days if she wanted you hurt she would do it in a more direct manner than hoping you touched or ingested or were standing near something at the right time...and it would be quick and clean.  She'd killed a fair number of times in that time he'd known her and she wasn't ever one to let her targets suffer.

Whatever was left here was something she wanted him to have...  But what?

Wait.  No, she couldn't have-

He hurried over and unbuckled the belt wrapped around the parcel; he pinned one end of the blanket under one hand and with a flick of his other hand sent it unrolling down the length of the counter, finding the blanket was folded in half around whatever it was covering.

He flipped the blanket over and felt like the air had been knocked out of him.

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

Putting the towers up was a grueling process with no cranes, drones, or impact wrenches to work with.  They were getting faster as they worked though, and slowly but surely it was coming together...another day and they'd have full coverage of Portia for the Hi-Defs.

Eli felt like every muscle in her body was on fire as she dragged herself up the stairs to the bathroom to wash her face; for one brief moment she compared the aches and pains to her time in boot camp, and just as quickly squashed the memory as she stumbled through the door.  She had just caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror when she heard her name being shouted up the stairs after her.

"...yeah?" she called back through the doorway.

"Django's at the door asking for you," came Selene's yell.

Django?  ...uh oh.  She spun around and headed back down the stairs (they were so much easier to go down than up, at least) and rounded the corner into the living room to see Selene letting Django in through the front door.

He had his usual friendly smile plastered on his face but his steps weren't as easygoing and flowing as usual; he walked like someone trying to hide the fact they were ready to spring into action at any given moment.  Something had him on edge...

"Hey, Django.  What's up?"

He shifted his grip on a cloth-wrapped bundle and moved it to underneath one arm.  "Evening, Eli.  Sorry to bug you after what I bet was a long day, but-"

There he paused, glancing between her and Selene.   Selene saw the movement and shrugged with a smile before hurrying out of the room; Django's eyes moved with her retreat and he waited until her footsteps pounded up the stairs and stopped - likely as she went into her own room.

"...all right, get right to it: what's wrong?"

Django brought the bundle around and plodded over to the couch, gesturing for her to come over.  As she moved up to stand at his elbow he unbuckled a belt around the bundle and unrolled a blanket along the couch's length, then lifted it and-

"Holy fuck."

He looked at her in surprise.  "-is that the word you keep using but won't translate?"

"I- you- you just- you just dropped an Access Suit into my lap and you're asking me about my language?!"

Django chuckled weakly at her and stepped back as she dropped to her knees to run her hands over the suit. An Access Suit...  No, THE Access Suit.   She looked up at him.  "Where in the hell did you get this?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," he answered, voice quiet.   "...that ghost I was thinking about, the last time we spoke?  She paid me a visit, and while I don't know her name I know who she is: Lily's mother."

Eli stared at him.  Lily's mother?  Lily?  That skinny, cheerful girl always hanging off Harrison's arm?  And if it was the mother - hell, Eli had already seen the woman!  "...what?  Wait, hang on, no- not here.  Wait-"

She haphazardly wrapped the suit up in the blanket and grabbed Django by the lapels of his coat, pulling him with her toward the door and outside, then across the yard to Selene's factory.  The machines weren't running but Selene had built the walls thick to reduce the amount of sound that bled out into the environment when everything was running.   If there was ANYWHERE Eli could believe they wouldn't be overheard at, it'd be in here.

Once inside she spread the suit out over an empty workbench with Django watching from over her shoulder.  "All right.   Ok.  How did you get this?  How does Lily and her mother factor into this?"

Django moved to place the small of his back against the workbench, letting them more or less face one another as they talked.   "...Lily's mother is the Ghost Knight.  Or, was.  I do know that everything that's been happening around Portia wasn't the mother, it was the daughter - Lily is our sneaky visitor.  And, my, hasn't she had us all fooled..."

With a deep sigh Eli ran her hands over face.  "Kid's good.  Real good.  And far more dangerous than she appears, if she's-"

"-her mother is convinced she's not behind the murders."

"Well of course she'd think that," Eli snorted.  "What parent would think their kid capable of killing?"

"I suppose if you raised the child you'd know best.  I'm...hesitant to believe her, and she wants a favor out of me as well."

"Of course.  Leniency for her little killer spawn?"

Django smiled a bit.  "In a way.  She said Lily's fallen in with the wrong sorts, and wants the chance to get her away from it without interference."

He fell silent and Eli just stared at him; when no further details were forthcoming she shook her head.  "Crazy.  Nuts.   She can't be serious.  Lily is a criminal now; we can't just...let her off the hook."

"I know.  I'm not sure why she thought I would have any say in that either.  Listen," he added after a moment.  "She's going to have dinner with Lily and Harrison at the restaurant tomorrow. I was asked to stall for time until it's just those three left in the restaurant, and after she'd made her request she left the suit with me."

Eli rubbed her thumb over the ribbed surface of the suit, feeling the tiny nubs of sensors and wire; she could hardly believe she had, in her very own hands, a damn Access Suit.  And if the woman had willingly given it up...  "-so I guess we can, hesitantly, believe that she's serious about wanting to get her daughter out of trouble.  The problem is we can't just let her - even if we didn't have a pair of murders on our hands she's still a criminal.  Bare minimum she should be sentenced for espionage and terrorism.  Plus, her mother 'taking her away' or whatever she plans to do, that's not a guarantee that Lily won't immediately go back to whoever she's working with or for."

Django nodded, expression solemn.  "There IS that, for certain.  ...a part of me is surprised Ghost even showed her face, what with all her daughter's been up to and how she and I parted ways years ago."  He turned and put his back to her, pointing at a spot on his lower back.  "Right here - right in to the hilt.  The blade didn't kill me but the off and on bleeding and infection that set in later almost did."

"A literal backstab, was it?"

"Very literal."  He shifted around to face her again, crossing his arms and letting out a sigh as he glanced up to the ceiling.  "You know, I remember asking you not too long ago that if she showed up and you caught her, I'd like a chance to talk to her...wouldn't have expected her to remember my face, much less come directly to me.  And even with her in front of me I didn't ask her what I wanted to know."

"Well...we'll probably have the time to figure that out later.  What we need NOW, though, is a plan.  She wants you to stall so they're the only ones left in the restaurant...any idea why?  It seems pretty specific."

Django was silent a moment; Eli took that moment to flip the suit over and start checking it over.  She could see places where it'd been improperly repaired - that might be why it wasn't working correctly but she wouldn't know for sure until she did a full diag-  ...crap.  COULD she do a full diagnostic with the tech that was left over?  This wouldn't be within Stewart's knowledge base, and that other AI Wendy probably wouldn't have any data on it either.

"-maybe, knowing who I am, she thinks I could help restrain her daughter?" Django asked finally.   "Maybe she thinks the Round Table is confined enough that Lily can't just bolt?  That I'd be honorable enough to give her the chance she's asking for?"

"All believable possibilities," Eli murmured, rubbing at her chin.  "Even still, that dinner plan might not even happen - it has too many variables to account for, not the least of which is whether Lily suspects anything or not."

"And if she does?"

Eli blew out a sigh that trailed into a raspberry.  "Here's how I see this: we should definitely assume the mother showing up has tipped the daughter off or at the very least will have the daughter on high alert to not blow her cover.  With her on high alert, there's several ways I can see this going: first one is, if there's too many Civil Corps folks around, it might scare her into going with her mother which will present the problem of trying to apprehend both of them - we don't know what this Ghost might do if her daughter decides to leave with her and we step in to stop that.  Another thing that might happen is Lily senses a trap about to be sprung and runs before the dinner even happens.  And then, finally, there's a chance the whole thing goes pear-shaped and one or both of them decide to get violent before the dinner happens.  Like I said, we're trying to account for a lot of variables here...there's a lot of places where this situation could take a hard left turn into the unexpected or bloody."  She paused then looked over at him.  "You haven't told anyone else about this, have you?"

Django shook his head.  "I came straight to you, since she left me the suit.  It sounds like that was a good idea - keeping this to a small group ought to help."

She nodded.  "Yeah, the fewer involved, the better.  ...all right, here's a tentative plan: I'm going to let Arlo know about this but really stress that we need to keep this small and secret.  You do what you'd normally do, and what Ghost asked you to do unless we come tell you otherwise."

Django nodded.  "I can certainly do that.   And if I see anything that seems to suggest something is about to go wrong...  Well.  I might not be able to get help quick enough, but you have my vow I will step in to stop any trouble."

Eli smiled, blew out a long sigh, then began to fold the suit up.  "...can't believe I have this damn thing now.  If I can just get it working correctly..."   Django was staring at her, a curious look on his face, when she finally glanced up from the suit.  "What?"

"What indeed -- what if you DO get it working right?"

"A good question with a dozen answers," Eli replied with a quiet chuckle. "This will definitely help in making sure this sort of shit doesn't start happening again."

"I imagine there's going to be a large group of people against any person - you, a spy, or even one of our other trusted Civil Corps folks - having the sort of...freedom that being invisible would grant."

"Well, yeah, of course - I don't intend to just do what I please.  There were rules and regulations and very strict punishments on misusing this sort of tech in my time," Eli went on.  "Just because I'm not in that time period anymore doesn't mean I intend to break all of the laws I'm familiar with.  I can imagine a thousand ways this suit can and has been misused, and I have a thousand and one reasons why I would not personally be misusing it myself.  But-"

She paused to finish folding up the suit and then tucked it under an arm, turning to face him fully.

"BUT.  This will definitely help us settle this current problem and any future spy problems.  ...assuming I get it working correctly."

He gave her a satisfied nod after a breath or two, and followed as she lead the way out of the factory and into the night where they both took a very needed deep, steadying breath.

After a brief glance to the stars he turned to her with a smile tinged with hope.  "I'll see you tomor-" He stopped abruptly at the sound of a distant crack - a single burst of noise coming from the direction of the beach.  A few breaths later and it repeated two more times. "What was-"

"-gunshots, those were gunshots," Eli interrupted in a rush.  She bolted for the front door of Selene's house and hurled the suit through it before turning and sprinting toward the road that led down to the docks, leaping the fence and getting several meters down the road before she heard Django's footsteps catching up to her from behind.

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

He didn't expect the juggler would show up; it was pretty clear from the outright disgust on the man's face earlier, and also from their previous conversation before, that Windsor wasn't interested in playing along.   In truth it wasn't a terrible thing -- one less person here tonight meant slightly less resistance to what needed to be done.  And it did seem like he'd kept his word and hadn't told anyone about Franklin's true goal here so the man deserved at least one more night in peace...just one, though.  Even if it hadn't been part of his orders Franklin did not leave loose ends and as the juggler was so resolved to BE a loose end, he'd get what was coming to him as he deserved.

Just not tonight.

Getting a message to Evangeline hadn't been difficult and he was pleased to eventually spot the top of her head bobbing up and down in and out of view as she traversed the dunes to head out to their meeting spot.  It also hadn't mattered too much if she'd opted not to come; she was staying far enough away from town that she could be dealt with quietly. Her presence here would just make his own life easier and that was all that he cared about at this point.

That just left that kid to get out here...

If there was anyone who likely wouldn't show their face it'd be her; he'd been certain to claim Xan had finally sent updated orders in the note that he'd slid under her door, emphasizing a new time constraint in the hopes it would convince her to trek out to the arch... Out of everyone that had been assigned to this mission she was the only one his boss had cautioned him to bring back alive if possible but she was proving to be too much of a pain in the ass for him to want to bother. She'd get one more chance to see reason and if not...well, so long as he didn't damage the tech too badly no one would bat an eye.  There were plenty more people back home who were either loyal enough or idealistic and gullible enough that could fit in that suit; nothing about this kid made her special and she was just as expendable as anyone else.

He nodded curtly at Evangeline and gave a half-grunt of greeting when she finally got within speaking distance; she was just as stony-faced as usual but returned the nod before dropping down to squat on her haunches and wait.

And they waited...and waited.  And then finally Franklin spotted a small figure traversing across the fields, just barely noticeable in the dim moonlight with all the tall grass around.  Was she walking on her knees or what?  She was definitely crouched.  Who was that?  Was it the girl? Couldn't tell from here.  Franklin slowly moved a hand to hook his thumb into his belt, feeling it come to a rest on the grip of the small pistol he'd concealed on the inside of his waistband.

Evangeline had clearly picked up on his uneasiness too and had stood; she was only armed (if you could call it that) with a sort of miniature pickaxe on her belt -- it looked more like a climbing tool than something meant for mining but it had a sharpened tip on one side and the back half was more akin to a very squat shovel-like shape with a squared edge.  If it was in Franklin's hands he was certain he could crack a skull in two with a strong enough swing; since she'd bothered bringing it with her he'd have to hope she knew how to bust a few heads with it if she needed to.

"Identify yourself," he growled when the figure was close enough to hear.

"It's me, you idiot."

That was definitely their "fearless leader's" voice...but why was she visible?

"Why the hell can I see you?  Where's the suit?"

"Not important.  What's this about new orders?"

Franklin crossed his arms and waited for the girl to get close; there was something like disappointment bubbling in his gut alongside the annoyance -- he'd been hoping to at least get his hands on the tech if this didn't go how he wanted it to.  "Orders can wait.  Where is the suit?"

The girl huffed.  "It's gone, ok?  One of Duvos's old ex-spies has caught on and is working against us.  What are the new plans?  Is Xan aware of the counter-agent?"

Gone.  ...damn it, so much for that hope.  "What counter-agent?  What's going on?"

"Ugh, look-" the girl growled, throwing her hands into the air.  "It's an agent who knows me very, very well, and found where I'd hidden the suit.  Does Xan know?  What did he send?"

"He wants us to grab the woman and head home."

Her eyes narrowed.  "How convenient that-"

"Look, you stupid bitch-" Franklin interrupted.  "It's the same as before: the plan has changed.  I got the new orders.  I've HAD the new orders. I am telling you the new orders now.  Are you going to listen or are you going to throw your little fit?"

"Hang on," Evangeline cut in.  "Are we just glossing over the fact that the only known existing invisibility suit is just gone?  Stolen?  To hell with whatever the plan might be at the moment, we need to get that thing back before we do anything else, right?"

"I know who has it and I just need an opening to get it back," came the response.  "One or two nights, tops.  This agent isn't going to leave with it -- trust me on that."

Evangeline frowned, looking from the girl to Franklin.  "...don't think we CAN just trust on that one.  You just lost something really damn valuable.  If we get back home without it we'll all be skinned alive even if we've got either target in tow."

"We HAVEN'T lost it!" the girl snapped.  "I know where it has to be and just need a chance to go get it!"

"Who has it then?" Franklin growled.  "Tell us, right here and now.  Who has it?"

There was a long pause and Franklin could almost see the gears grinding in her head -- was she trying to come up with a good lie?  Was she even smart enough for that?

"...it's the woman who had the suit before me," came the subdued answer.  "She used to spy for Duvos...  I don't know what happened or why she's here, or why she took the suit.  But I-"

Franklin snorted loudly.  "-we get it back, we get the woman, we leave.  End of."

The girl's face twisted into a glare.  "There's no 'we' -- I will get the suit back.  I don't trust either of you to not hurt my m- hurt my suit or the woman.  She isn't here to hurt any of us and I KNOW she will not leave town with the suit before I get a chance to steal it back."

"This woman is the enemy, kid," he growled.  "She picked her side when she stole from Duvos."

The girl twisted her hands together.  "Maybe...maybe she's just acting on orders herself.  The suit used to be hers..."

"...who owned what and when doesn't really matter right now," Evangeline said, huffing a sigh out through her nose.  "The first plan is already shot.   The new one may not even be worth it at this point if we're down the suit - the Civil Corps has been on high alert for weeks now.  We'd only have a chance at grabbing the target if we caught her on her own and taking any of those law-folk by surprise would've been hard even before they knew something was up.  Our best chance at taking her unaware and getting the hell out of here is with someone in that suit."

"I'll get it back-"

"WE will get it back."

"No, I'LL get it back.  Don't either of you dare move against her.  I will get it back.  I know I can."

"Why are you protecting this broad?" Franklin interrupted.  "Actually, to be clear, I don't care.  I've heard enough, and I've got my orders.  You going to listen to me or not?"

Again another long stretch of silence.  Franklin dug his thumb deeper into his waistband, seeking the ring on the grip of the pistol and sliding the tip of his thumb into it.

Finally she looked up at him.  "I was given charge of this mission and I don't believe for an instant that Xan's sent orders to YOU and not me, that are the same as the orders you claimed to have before.  ...and besides, I don't see either plan working now.  I'm calling this off - you two pick up Windsor and head to the pick up area and wait there for me.  I'll get the suit back and meet you there, and we'll all head back together. Those are my orders."

Franklin shook his head and pulled the gun free.  "Wrong answer, kid."

With her right in front of him it wasn't hard to aim and squeeze the trigger in one rapid, smooth motion; one shot and the kid crumpled.  He'd been aiming for neck and head - which had he hit?  Didn't matter.  Wasn't like she'd get help in time.

He turned to Evangeline; the woman was standing there with wide eyes, attention riveted on the girl.  After a moment she lifted her gaze to him, then it focused on the tip of the barrel aimed at her.

"...you killed the others, didn't you?" she asked quietly.

"I had orders - make this operation fail and leave no loose ends.  Nothing personal," he grunted.  He fired as she tried to duck out of the way and only struck her shoulder but he could track faster than she could stagger and without much effort sent skull fragments flying a moment later.

There.  Orders done.

Sow chaos and terror, make Duvos out to be the culprit, make the mission fail.  Stir up international trouble to make Xan look as bad as possible, by any means, and leave no loose ends. The loss of the suit was going to be taken out of his hide but that fact officially being blamed on Xan, along with Franklin bringing back word of a Duvos traitor moving against them would shield him from the worst of the consequences as the rest of the Duvos military heads and ruling class were left to sort out the mess here... He could imagine so many delightful issues all falling squarely on Xan's head: the death of Duvos citizens on foreign soil sparking a diplomatic emergency as accusations of unproven espionage began, the counter-accusations of attempted theft, the loss of several of Duvos's assets (agents, assets, whatever), and of course the missing suit alone would probably have been enough to get Xan removed from his command and conveniently disappeared.  It was going to be great to witness.

Franklin had three more bullets in the pistol; that was more than enough to settle the Windsor issue and then he could continue on out into the desert to summon the Sharks to fly him to the first of several safe houses so he could begin the trip home. If Xan wasn't already gone by the time Franklin went in to make an official report he'd be genuinely surprised.

He stuck to the shoreline, sometimes wading in almost hip-deep water, as he made the long walk back toward the river and bridge to South Block.  Come morning he could ambush Windsor as the man left his room -- he had no more reasons to be discrete and Franklin loved a good shoot and scoot.  South Block had hardly any security for a trading hub; he could probably add a few bodies to the count before anyone even got over the shock of a murder committed in daylight and in full view of possible witnesses.  There was a sort of glee to that idea but he'd see how he was feeling in the morning.

Once he was around and beyond the dock he struck out swimming, aiming for the southern point of the island that held that stupid haunted cave attraction; from here, after he rested a bit, he could circle around to the northern tip and swim across toward South Block from there.  He should have no problem getting back to his room before dawn and then it'd just be a waiting game of listening for Windsor's door to open, pop out of his own room, and then off he'd go - simple as that.

When he was relatively sure he could make the final swim across Franklin set off into the waves again, but as he drew closer to shore he heard a slapping noise coming from above his head...there was a bridge that connected South Block to the mainland and he was using it as both a landmark to guide him to shore and also knew that the land near that bridge would be the easiest spot to climb out of the river at. Over the splash of waves it sounded like...footsteps?  Who else would be out this late?  How unlucky for them if they chanced to spot him - he definitely couldn't let that slide but...bah, with the pistol now soaked he'd have to once again take a hand's on approach if he was spotted.

IF he was spotted...  If he went unnoticed he really should just go back to his room and wait for morning - it was going to be a busy day after all.   The footsteps didn't sound like they were stopping so...maybe he was in the clear?  He scrambled up the bank and hauled himself onto the bridge, looking toward the mainland to see who was-

Ah...well then.  Damn it, man - he was going to crack now?  Why was it never easy...?

It was Windsor cutting a hasty path across the bridge, heading right for town.  He could only be heading for one place in particular, for one reason, this late at night...so much for assuming the man would actually keep his word to the end (though Franklin supposed the man deserved a bit of credit for remaining silent THIS long). Franklin paused long enough to take his shirt off, wring it out, and put it back on; the pistol was still concealed at his waist but again he couldn't be certain it would fire after being wet for this long. Maybe he should have lifted that little pick-thing off Evangeline before he'd left...

Oh well.  Necks cracked pretty easily when you were as large as Franklin was.

[cheollipop]

Aww I'm glad you like my random check ins!!

I hope uni is being nice to you, and it's good that you're taking things slow and finding solace in writing. Your fics have been absolutely beautiful lately (like they would be any different lol, that's funny) so I'm excited to see what you've got in store :)

I've been good! It's summer holidays for me atm so it's been nice relaxing. I've also been toying with the idea of turning my blog into an ateez one and maybe perhaps posting some fics?👀 I'm still thinking about it though so we'll see where that leads

Also, are you excited for the comeback?? These concept photos have quite literally had me on the floor ngl

I love themm!! 💗

uni's been a little shit I'm ngl hahahaha, but that's nothing new. I'm not too stressed atm ^^ ahh thank you so much!! I'm really happy with how they've been turning out for the most part,, I have a few things I'd like to write soon, and then I'm considering maybe officially opening requests for the first time? that kind of scares me though because I don't want to disappoint, plus I'm not sure if anyone's gonna send any in ;;

ahh that's lovely!!! and omg you shoulddd! we can be writer moots hehe~ I think the holidays are prime time for experimenting ^^ and feel free to dm me if you need any help brainstorming a fic idea~ or anything else really. you could always write something for yourself at first, and if you enjoy that, then you could start posting them.

don't even get me started omg. everyone looks SO GOOD- pink mingi has been wrecking me so hard dskdjdkd I no longer regret spending a fortune on the albums because I need all the pcs I can get 😵‍💫 also the little song teasers??? NO SKIPS- ain't nobody mess with django, yk?

thank you for checking in!! I'm here if you need me~ have a lovely day/night! mwahh ( ﾉ^ω^)ﾉ💕

[whaleofatjme1920]

Kinktober Day 2: Thigh Riding

Django Bridge X GN!Reader (AFAB, I say cunt like twice in here but no she/her/hers pronouns)

[Warnings: NSFT, thigh riding, public sex-?, if you are a minor DNI]

[AN: I keep switching between agent and doctor, my bad (in general of how I describe this man) 630 words <3]

Kinktober Masterlist

You knew you shouldn’t have listened to him. You regret it, you really do. A thick heat has spread over your cheeks as you narrow your eyes and attempt to keep up your unfazed façade, but every time Django bounces his leg, you come closer and closer to breaking and cracking under the pressure.

Meetings on the fourth floor, mainly euclid SCPs, happen like clockwork. You should have been prepared, and for the most part you were! But, with a bunch of new hires flooding the room, you found that your normal seat had been taken.

Sighing, you almost resigned yourself to standing against the wall when none other than agent Django Bridge whistled quietly for your attention.

Your eyes fell to where he sat, him pushing his chair back slightly as he lifted his elbows from the table.

He patted his lap.

“You’re crazy,” you hissed as you crossed the distance of the meeting room to the man who awaited you with a lazy smirk.

“Take a seat,” he grinned.

Reluctantly, you did.

It didn’t take long for him to start with the teasing. The way you fell onto his lap left your clothed sex rubbing against his thigh. Subtly, he would bounce his leg, making you deeply inhale before releasing.

And that’s why you regret taking up his offer. You’d be so much better standing.

Your breathing was slowly growing heavier as he rests one of his hands on your hip and squeezes. His breath is soft, but warm in your ear as he lazily tenses his thigh. Your body is heating up, and your heart is pounding in your chest. Every part of you feels like you’re on fire. You genuinely look uncomfortable at the state of this meeting, but luckily, the person speaking isn’t paying the two of you any mind.

“Are you gonna give in for me?” He whispers darkly in your ear, his deep Southern accent falling over you like warm honey.

You fight mewling as he bounces his leg upwards, you slightly with it. You don’t want to, but the feeling of him tensing…

The corners of Django’s lips curl upwards into a devilish smile as you lower more of your weight onto him and begin to wiggle your hips, back and forth, side to side, all the while remaining as still as you can from the waist up. Your hips rock against him, your cunt’s slick practically weeping through your pants. It’s almost shameful how badly you want to release.

Django hums softly as he trades warmth with you, his hand loosening and tightening its grip on your hip every time you swivel down on him. He knows you’re close, and he conveys his approval for your release through his harsher touch.

Your body has heated up so much that you can’t help but sweat. Beads roll down your temples as you roll your hips wantonly against his tensed thigh, your fingers are digging into the edge of the table. You try so hard to focus on the presentation being projected from the overhead, but the built up pleasure is about to burst.

You dip your head when Django’s other hand finds its way to your opposite hip. You feel yourself being lifted ever so slightly, like you’re readjusting yourself before he plops you back down harshly onto his thigh, rolling you backwards and onto his chest.

That extra friction is all it takes. You sharply inhale and dig your nails into the grain of the table, your legs clamping around his leg as your cunt flutters, pulsing wildly over his thigh, and soaking him in your slick. Your heart is pounding in your chest, racing a mile a minute. It pounds thickly in your ear as you shakily exhale, trying with all your might to not give away what’s just transpired.

Django’s hands leave your hips to lovingly caress your thighs. He kneads the flesh gently, his lips subtly finding your shoulder before leaning back into his seat again.

[moonbaby26]

Title: What’s in a Name?

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation from last chapter. You and the others are finally homeward bound, flying back to the U.S. from the events in Egypt and Greece. You get to hear a little more about Peter’s eastern European roots while passing time on the plane together.

Warnings: None, just fluff and Peter being Peter.

Notes: I know where some things I’m referencing don’t match the comics. Blend of comic canon and the movie version going on here.

Chapters: Previous Chapter Here

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa , @cringingmemeries , @bi-panicatthe-disco , @himbos-are-my-lifeblood , @simp4mcuwomen

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

—————————

The morning sun was still low and red on the horizon as you’d stepped back out into the open air of the flight deck. But seagulls were already calling from somewhere up above as men milled around, checking and readying a set of helicopters that you knew would soon be taking you ashore.

You wouldn’t miss this boat itself of course, none of you belonged here after all. But you’d be lying to say it’d been easy to let go of Peter when morning had come. You’d woken up far more tangled than you remembered going to sleep as, chest to chest, his good leg wrapped over you and one of his hands somehow far up the back of your shirt.

The longest part of getting ready had been the procrastination of leaving that bed. After that, it only seemed like minutes before you were all awkwardly standing up here now, waiting on next instructions. It wasn’t as if you’d had anything you could pack after all. Besides that somewhat silly polaroid picture you’d seen Peter carefully stowaway in one pocket of his shorts, you had no possessions to speak of here. Even the shoes they’d given you were some poorly fit military boot. The tops of them scraped against your ankles as you walked and you’d be glad to be rid of them whenever possible.

The Professor and Moira approached after another moment, Moira hurrying a little more as one of the helicopters began to fire up, followed by the other soon after. She had to speak louder over the rising noise of the blades rotating faster and faster.

“Keep these on you!” She called, going to each of you in turn, handing over a U.S. passport with a driver’s license closed separately inside. She only opened them briefly to check that she was matching each to the correct person. “The flight we’ll be taking is just a commercial plane. The government has contracted them and dictated the pickup and landing points, but it’s civilian pilots and flight crew. Normal security still applies, but only those with U.S. citizenship are allowed aboard.”

As she’d gotten to you and Peter, she’d handed both passports to you as you’d had your hand outstretched, and he’d still been holding on to his crutches. You quickly opened one just to see which was yours, so you could pocket only your own. The first one opened was his however, but even in the low light of early sunrise, your brain hitched on something unexpected.

The picture looking back at you was clearly him, albeit a little younger, and with slightly longer hair than the way he wore it currently. But that wasn’t the issue. You reread the name printed in front of you more than once, before glancing up to him as if to confirm.

It said Pietro Django Maximoff.

“Your real name isn’t Peter?” You asked, even over the helicopter noise before you could stop yourself. But the realization was already dawning on you almost before that last word left your mouth that so many people were called one name by friends and family even if their legal name may still be another. You felt a bit stupid then for your reaction, instantly wishing you could take the question back.

But thankfully he only leaned in with a smile, taking his passport and license from you even as he spoke right against your ear. “Define real.” He pocketed them, before continuing. The helicopters were at their full ready now. “But it’s a bit loud here, babe. I’ll tell you all you want to know about my sexy alter ego later, deal?”

—————————

By the time you’d gotten to the airstrip on shore, it was full morning sun now. And just as Moira had said, there was already a large U.S. commercial jet waiting there. You also found out you weren’t alone, as you’d had to join a line of people already waiting to board. They were checking credentials as people moved up one by one onto a mobile stairway that had been rolled up flush with the plane’s open door.

Looking around you, most of the would be passengers still looked like military of various branches though. Army, Navy, Air Force, they still had on their uniforms. But there were others too, likely diplomats being evacuated you thought. Men, women, even a few children as you’d seen the curious eyes peeking out from behind their parents’ legs as you all had also moved through the line.

“It had to be damn stairs,” Peter mumbled as the two of you neared closer to the plane. Without any actual terminal here, boarding straight from the tarmac was the only option.

“If Hank can help carry the Professor up them, wheelchair and all, I’m pretty sure I can handle you.” You responded, only meaning to give him a little grief.

But he just spun things right back on you of course. “Oh, you can handle me any time.”

And when your stare said you didn’t seem to find that quite as funny as he did, he only shrugged, still smiling. “Sorry, you left yourself wide open for that one.”

“I did.” You admitted. “But I still want to hear the story of that driver’s license. And why did you even have one to begin with? Seems a little unecessary.” You said, still moving up every few moments as you neared the bottom of the stairs.

Yet he just kept smirking at you, almost a seeming delight in his eyes then, realizing that you were that curious about it. “Now who’s impatient?” He taunted, just before turning back to flash said documents to one of the workers now checking them.

“Do you have anything to declare?” The woman asked him.

With the way he paused, you knew his brain was churning then to select whatever he would deem the funniest or wittiest response. But as odd of looks as you were all already getting, mostly from Hank and Kurt’s vivid blue skin as usual, it probably would be best not to test the waters any further. You did want to get home after all.

“We don’t,” You answered before he could, relieved when she seemed to want to hurry you all aboard and away from her as much as you did. She handed Peter’s passport back to him, then took your own in quick succession to glance it over as well before seeming satisfied enough as she handed it back to you.

After you were past her, it was the issue of the stairs however. Obviously they expected Peter to just figure it out, but you knew you could lend a hand. The trick was going to be in trying to keep that act of levitation a little more subtle though, still being in mixed company here.

“You should have let me have a little more fun with her,” Peter said, though glancing back with some curiosity as you moved behind him.

“I don’t want to make a scene,” you responded quietly. Really, referring to her just as much as what you were about to attempt. “Pretend you’re going up the stairs anyway. Move a little like you’re walking.”

The person in front of him on the stairs wasn’t looking back, and only more of your friends were directly behind you. With the sidewalls of the stairway also going up about waist high, the people still on the ground couldn’t see the little glow that went around his legs as you willed him to levitate just high enough that his cast didn’t drag the steps as you both continued towards the plane’s door.

“Woah, hey at least give a warning.” He responded, lifting his good leg up enough for it to also miss the now passing steps even as his crutches hit once or twice.”

“I did.” You answered, though still trying to look past him the whole time to make sure no one was looking back from the plane’s doorway. Once you’d gotten nearly to the top, you set him back down to do the last couple steps on his own and enter the plane normally.

Once inside though, the aisle really was too narrow to use his crutches properly. Maybe on a more normal flight more measures would have been taken to assist the disabled, but there sure wasn’t anyone offering anything today.

Kurt was behind you, and offered to take the crutches while Peter put one arm over your shoulders and you both half hobbled, half shimmied awkwardly down the aisle until you reached the first open seating.

Being a larger jet meant for transoceanic travel, there were seats in groups of three on both the left and right side of the plane, but a row of four in the center as well. You ended up in one of the rows of three on the side, letting Peter take the aisle seat to have more room for his leg, while you sat in the middle, and Kurt beside you at the window as he’d laid Peter’s crutches down on the floor underneath the seats.

You finally felt like maybe you could relax a little then, just glancing around a bit. There were some old magazines in the seatback in front of you, but probably not much of anything else any of you could really do now in however many hours it’d take to get stateside. You were pretty sure a passenger jet like this would be a good deal slower than the high tech military one you’d gone to Egypt in.

You were only looking up at the light and air vent controls above your seat next as a sudden movement and curse surprised you as your eyes darted back to the aisle.

“Goddamnit.” A man said.

His soft sided suitcase had just burst open, spilling most of his clothing onto the floor as he then paused to shove it back in as best he could. He struggled with the zipper a moment, but it only slid back and forth uselessly, no longer sealing the bag back. “Cheap ass government issue,” He added, finally just picking up the whole thing and holding it closed against his chest as he walked on.

And that random event would have been nothing more to you, except for the way you saw Peter move his head back then, sucking in a pained breath through his teeth as he gripped the armrest between you.

Kurt noticed too, leaning forward as he asked, “Are you alright, Peter?”

“Yeah, sure,” He grunted.

But as you glanced down to see Peter’s other hand now clutching his broken leg, you also saw a newly materialized pair of sunglasses pressed between his fingertips and the cast. As well as a military jacket now folded messily under his seat.

“That was you.” You spoke abruptly, yet low enough just for the three of you. “You took those out of that man’s suitcase!”

“Well I didn’t think the stupid zipper was going to break when I tried to close it back! He’s right, that was a cheap zipper.” Peter admitted.

“And you hurt yourself trying to get back into the chair didn’t you?” You chided a little more, not quite sure what was worse, the thievery or the recklessness.

“I hit my foot on that damn bracket, and the vibration went through the bone.” He motioned to the metal bracing that bolted the seat in front of him to the floor.

“Thou shalt not steal,” Kurt said, not judgmentally, but just as if this should be an inherent truth as he still looked to Peter with concern.

“Oh man, so I get like twelve hours of flight time to look forward to, trapped next to you two goody two shoes then? Awesome.” He joked back, though already looking back down then at the sunglasses in his hand with a little admiration. They had a mirror finish as he spun them over in his fingers. “And hey, you guys are the ones who burned up my last jacket back in Egypt, remember? I’m not going home empty handed. I’d been wanting one of those army looking deals since we got here. Buzzcut there seemed like he’d have one.”

“Mama look!”

All three of you paused your talk then to see a small boy now standing in the aisle as the movement of people had slowed once more with passengers stopping to put their luggage in the overhead bins. But his mother didn’t seem to be paying him any mind as he continued to point. She was talking to the man in front of her as that man fought with an oversized suitcase.

The boy continued staring though, likely at Kurt. But it wasn’t really a fearful gaze, more excited than anything.

“Guten tag,” Kurt said cheerfully regardless, just waving in return.

And at that the boy’s eyes really went wide. “Sprichst du Deutsch?” The boy stammered a little, yet with the biggest grin.

“Ja, ich komme aus Bayern.” Kurt replied.

And that spontaneous connection over a surprise shared language would have been truly adorable too if Peter wasn’t suddenly leaning right over you to interrupt it.

“Yo, Kurt, ask him if I can borrow some of his markers!” Peter pleaded abruptly.

“What?” You and Kurt both said almost simultaneously.

“The markers, he doesn’t need the whole box. I only need like three colors, tops.” Peter answered, motioning back to the boy. And when still neither you or Kurt seemed to understand this sudden sense of urgency, Peter actually put his hands together like making a little prayer. “You told me you didn’t want me to steal, so I’m trying not to. Come on, at least a red one?”

Kurt really was confused then, but he did lean forward, saying something else in German to the boy.

At that request the boy did look down at the coloring book rolled in one of his hands, and the small pack of markers sticking out of his pocket that evidently Peter had somehow put a target lock on.

But he really did like Kurt apparently as after only a couple moments of thought, the little boy opened the marker box to pull three out.

“Sweet!” Peter said as the child handed over red, black, and blue to him. “I’ll give them back in a bit, right?” Peter added though, smirking at him. “Thanks, little dude.”

And it was all just the oddest thing to you as the boy only happily waved bye to Kurt after, the movement of people starting again as he and his mother continued on to go sit a few rows further back.

“I don’t even know what just happened,” you said after they were gone.

“That was world class negotiating, babe. I mean Kurt literally just smooth talked some colors from a kid with a coloring book in his hand on a twelve hour flight.” Peter responded.

“You are actually going to give them back though aren’t you? You told him you would.” Kurt replied with a little concern.

Peter kind of shrugged, “I mean yeah, I guess so.”

“He’ll give them back,” You added for him. “Or I will.”

“Okay, okay, jeez. Yes, it’s not going to take me hours to do anything. Ever. I’ll have this baby gussied up in no time.” Peter responded, patting his cast gently. “You can’t leave a blank canvas to a guy like me. Especially if I have to stare at this thing for weeks.”

And he was right, you weren’t even in the air yet before he just started doodling away.

————————————

Thankfully the plane only stopped one more time, at an air base in France to pickup more U.S. government evacuees, before at last the wings were over water and you were finally pointed home.

By now Peter’s cast looked more like those advertisements or example sheets on the walls of any tattoo parlor. Yet when you made a comment as such, the sly grin you got in return made you instantly wish you’d thought that through a little better.

“Ah, so you’ve been in a tattoo parlor then?” Oh he was so interested in this topic now. You could see that wolfish look coming into his eyes. “You’ve got some ink somewhere?”

“I don’t.” You’d thought of doing it though, quite a bit actually. But it was such a commitment. You’d probably keep that tidbit to yourself for a while though, lest he try to drag you immediately to a tattoo shop on the drive to D.C.

“I’m not totally sure I believe you.” He answered, though leaning in to whisper in your ear after, “Think you’ll let me check some time?”

The fact that he was still so bold with Kurt literally right beside you, made you wonder if you really should be making sure whatever rental car you ended up with later was just some sort of bucket seat tiny two door thing. If it was a boat like sedan with a full bench back seat, you might actually be in trouble tonight.

“We’ll see,” Is all you answered back though. At least for a moment before you realized now was as good a time as any to flip the conversation back on him.

“So when do I get to hear the Pietro story?” You asked, relaxed into your seat as much as the small space would allow. “Kurt and I have nothing else to do. Let’s hear it.”

“The who?” Peter teased back, just working on giving one of the pin up girls he’d drawn a little better shading.

“Or Django. Either Pietro or Django, they both sound pretty interesting I think.” You replied playfully.

Peter glanced at you, but smiled a little. “You’re just going to be disappointed actually. I was just hyping it up, there’s really nothing to it.”

“Then go on, it’ll be a quick story then.” You still wanted to know more about him of course, and every piece was just another part of the whole picture.

“Django was my grandfather. Mom’s dad back in the old country.” Peter replied, still just finding more and more little details to add to his drawings. “I didn’t really know him. Mom never liked to take us back there much to visit. I mean it makes more sense now of course. She didn’t want my Dad to know where she was. But back then I just figured she thought that place was creepy.”

“What place?” Kurt asked innocently enough. You both were actually equally curious to whatever Peter might say about his family. Like he’d said before, Kurt wasn’t used to having friends his own age. And learning more about each other now was all part of growing those bonds.

“Wundagore Mountain,” Peter replied. “And trust me, as much as it sounds like the newest ride at some amusement park, it’s totally not. I remember being like five and going back there thinking Dracula himself was going to yank me out of that freaking soviet tin can Mom was driving us around in. Wanda still swears she heard voices up there. I mean I don’t know, we stayed with Mom’s aunt one time and she tells us this thing so creatively called Man-Beast was going to come down off the mountain for us if we didn’t behave.”

Peter glanced over to the both of you, further clarifying, “Not like Hank or anything though, it was basically just a werewolf I think. But if it’s a werewolf, call it that you know? What the hell is a Man-Beast? They had so many weird things that could take children. I feel like every story was, oh but don’t do that or Porga will get you. Oops, you talked back to your mother? Guess Tagar is coming tonight. Darn, forgot to brush your teeth? Nice knowing you, kid, Bova’s going to take you to live in the woods forever now.”

You were sort of just staring and listening, but out the corner of your eye you saw Kurt only nodding as if in complete understanding. You would hazard a guess that parts of Bavaria evidently had very similar folklore. Between the two of them, they could likely trade stories like this the whole flight.

But Peter just continued, “But yeah, Django was my gramps, just met him a couple times. And Pietro...well that’s just me. Like I said, nothing special. I was Pietro all the way until Mom started us in kindergarten.” He smirked a little. “Guess she figured the dorky little Jewish kid with the curly brown hair needed all the help he could get fitting in with all the John’s, Mark’s, and Scott’s of the world. And yeah, feel free to tell Summers I said that later.”

So she’d Americanized his name. It wasn’t unheard of with first or second generation immigrants, but still there was something a little sad about that. Yet you smiled softly, that image of the kindergarten age Peter frankly adorable in your mind. “You were a baby brunette?”

“Until the old X-gene flared at 12 or whenever that was yeah,” But he paused, a little surprised, just then realizing what look that was on your face. “Oh stop, you’re picturing it now aren’t you? I was a total dork, don’t do that. Seriously, no! I swear I will never let you find those pictures.”

But you just kept grinning. “No need. I can imagine this forever.”

“Hell, where is Jean?” Peter looked around in a little show of dramatics. “Memory wipe needed on aisle 3, Red.”

It was just too funny though, and honestly it made all the sense in the world. The physical resemblance between Peter and Erik would have been a lot more noticeable had they both still shared similar hair color and texture. Yes, you would bet Peter’s hair had even had that bit of auburn in it too back then.

“But I do have a question,” You spoke then, your tone sincere. “What do you actually want to be called?”

“Sexy?” He answered at once.

But you didn’t let him off the hook that easily, still waiting patiently for the real answer as you just watched him.

Finally he relented, but still seeming a bit non committal. “I mean I’ve heard both for so long, I answer to either. Really, I do. But if the Django comes out though, that’s Defcon 1. It means I’ve done something catastrophically wrong and Mom is about to go full on nuclear on my ass.”

You considered this for a moment, before trying it. “Pietro,” you said, looking for any difference in his expression.

He did grin at you, eyebrows going up a little.

“Peter?” You asked then.

And to that he just continued to smile. “Babe, it’s like you’re trying to pick the name of the new dog.” He raised the pitch of his voice a little, imitating a generic wife you guessed. “Honey, which one does he like better? Did his ears go up at that one?”

“Hey, I’m just trying to figure things out,” you defended. “Guess I’ll just go back to imagining all that curly brown hair now.”

“Noooo.” He whined.

———————————

The three of you had joked and talked for quite a while. But somewhere, maybe about two thirds through the flight, things did quiet back down. Eventually you decided to try and sleep some if you could. You weren’t tired yet, but you knew you would be by the time you landed.

With the difference in timezones, even though you’d left early in the morning Greek time, it would likely only be around lunch time in the U.S. after landing. While you already would have been traveling for almost twelve hours.

It was as if you’d get to repeat the day all over again. You had all that time still ahead of you, including having to convince the Professor to let you drive Peter home.

You closed your eyes for a bit, thinking of all the hypotheticals of what you could say. What you would argue if needed, and what Xavier may say in response. But as you tried to let your thoughts drift further, you realized you’d crossed your arms, little chill bumps on them as you opened your eyes to look up at the air vent above you.

Was it stuck open? You fiddled with it a moment, but felt no difference. Shifting to sit back up a little, you looked at the seatback in front of you again as well, in the pouch there with the old magazines.

“They don’t have any blankets,” Peter said quietly, easily interpreting the reasoning for your search.

You’d thought he’d already been asleep just as Kurt was though. You were surprised as Peter reached out, smoothly laying that jacket over your chest and arms. The one he’d taken earlier.

“See.” He added. “Crime does pay sometimes.”

You gave him a skeptical look still, but the jacket really did make the difference as you leaned back again in the seat, snuggling into it. “Thank you, thief.” You answered softly.

“Any time.” He smiled a little, before reaching down to click the button on the armrest between your seats. He moved the armrest up and out of the way, then running a warm hand under the jacket to find one of your own.

You grasped his hand when they met, intertwining your fingers together.

“Have a nice nap, see you in Jersey.” He said, yet closing his own eyes as well.

“See you in Jersey, Pietro.”

You felt him squeeze your hand more at that, and you couldn’t help but smile.

————————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

[amphxtrite]

pietro maximoff x fem!reader

warnings: light angst (sad pietro).

summary: pietro has worries about potentially becoming a father, so you hep him realize everything will be alright.

a/n: my first marvel fic, sorry if I messed up the russian.

word count: 1.8k

enjoy <3

blyad’ - fuck, printsessa - princess, moya lyubov' - my love, krasivaya - beautiful, dorogoy - darling, ya tebya lyublyu - I love you, zhena - wife

__________________________________________

“I can’t believe the captain is making me practice physical combat like I can’t take someone down with my mind.” Wanda groans, holding her sore shoulder in her hand as the two of you exit the training room.

“You know he does it just in case Wanda, besides it’s good to know.” You smile, repeating the same line for what seemed like the tenth time today.

“It’s not like my powers are going to just disappear y/n, besides I strongly dislike sparring.”

“You just don’t like it when Steve calls you out for using your powers.” You smirk.

“That was one time!” Wanda groans, murmuring a couple curses under her breath.

“Anyways, I was talking to Fury about the next mission and—”

Your sentence is cut short as the wind is knocked out of your stomach and the air around you begins to blur, terrified you latch onto the person carrying you.

“Blyad’ Pietro steal your girlfriend at your own time!” Wanda seethes.

But you can barely hear her groan of annoyance as a soft chuckle brings your eyes up to meet a pair of blue ones.

“Hello Printsessa, coincidence bumping into you here.” A familiar sokovian accent greets you.

“We live in the same building Pietro, you can’t do this every time you see me—” You squeal as the blonde picks up the pace.

“You know you love it, moya lyubov'.” He sighs with a smirk, pressing a long kiss to your cheek.

“Besides, you look ever so beautiful in my arms.” Pietro teases, pausing for a moment to nuzzle his nose to yours and take in the sight of your breathless self clutching onto his neck for dear life.

“Don’t look at me like that I-I’m trying to be mad at you.” You groan, glancing away only to find Pietro still staring at you with soft eyes, like you were his world.

“Alright, you win Piet. You’re going to make me melt.” You mutter, covering your face with your hands to disguise your deep blush, but Pietro had already seen it.

Grinning proudly to himself, he paces down to the living room and drops you gently on the couch before running off again.

“So kiddo, how was training today?” Clint asks nonchalantly, gratefully turning away from his conversation with Tony.

“Well, we finally got Wanda to spar without her powers for once, so I see that as a win.” You shrug with a laugh as Pietro arrives again with a blanket to toss over you.

“That’s good, the kid needs to learn, she can’t always use her ‘mind thing.’” Clint shrugs.

“Try telling her that.” You smirk.

A voice clearing abruptly cuts off Clint’s next sentence.

“Hey speedy, anyone ever say you look like a suburban dad with those tousled locks.” Tony comments sarcastically, eyeing Pietro’s slightly overgrown hair.

“Oh leave him alone Tones, he’s been on a mission for the past couple weeks.” You sigh, playfully pushing the brunette.

“Just saying.” Tony murmurs quietly under his breath.

You roll your eyes, but smile fondly at the thought of Pietro as a father, cradling a small child in his arms.

Glancing up at Pietro, you smile, but you’re met with a different expression.

Eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. Pietro’s eyes cast away from you, as if he was trying to bore a hole in the wall.

“Is everything alright speedy?” You question softly, resting your hand on his arm.

Your heart clenches as he flinches slightly, turning his gaze back to you.

“Yes— yes of course krasivaya.” He smiles weakly, attempting to sound cheerful, but the break in his voice was evident.

“Um— I’m feeling kind of tired, I’ll see you guys later.” You excuse yourself, nodding to Clint and Tony as you take Pietro’s hand.

“Alright, but remember tonight’s movie night so don’t eat too much before nine, we’re ordering pizza.” Clint calls as you begin to walk away.

“Alright old man, we’ll keep it in mind.” You laugh, pulling Pietro out of the living room.

“Oh she’s getting it tonight.” Tony laughs as Clint rolls his eyes.

“Watch it, the kid looked kind of upset.” Clint sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Alright, sorry Katniss.” Tony chuckles, lifting his hands in mock surrender.

Refusing to let go of Pietro’s hand, you reach the door to his room and pull him inside, finally releasing your grip and taking a deep breath.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s really up Piet?” You sigh, taking his hands into yours.

Pietro’s eyes are downcast at the floor beneath him, glancing from side to side. For a moment, no one moves, you practically hold your breath for a moment as Pietro fidgets with your fingers and mentally debates saying anything.

When Pietro finally lifts his head, he reveals blurry blue eyes with tears welled up in the corners. “Printssesa...”

Your heart drops to your stomach as the streams fall down his cheeks, you quickly lift your hand to dry them.

“Printsessa, how could I ever become a father?” He mumbles softly, pulling his bottom lip into his teeth as he tries to fight back his on-coming tears.

“Of course you could be a father Piet, you’d be an amazing dad!” You smile softly, lifting Pietro’s chin so he’s facing you again.

His lips pull up into a weak smile, but his downhearted eyes suggested there was more to it.

“Piet?” You whisper softly. “Please. You can trust me.” You murmur, lifting his hand to press a kiss to his fingers. 

The blue eyed blonde takes a deep breath and shuffles around on his feet, avoiding eye contact as your gaze softens.

“I-I don’t know dorogoy. You shouldn’t have to see me like this I apologize.” Pietro sighs, slowly trying to turn himself away from you.

“W-What? No. Piet, you’re upset. Please as long as you’re willing to tell me, I’m here to listen and help.” You smile, taking Pietro’s calloused fingers into your hand and squeezing gently.

Pietro chuckles softly and squeezes back.

“Thank you krasivaya. I don’t know how I got so lucky.” Pietro mumbles, pulling you into his arms and sniffling against your head.

“Please Piet, I think I’m the one who got lucky. The cute speedster with the perfect smile.” You smirk, nuzzling your nose into his chest.

“Yes, I suppose you did.” He chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to your hair.

Pietro clears his throat, letting out a long sigh and taking in a seep breath.

“What I mean, about being a father of course, is how could I possibly manage it.” he starts, clutching you closer to him.

“Y/n, I lost my father when I was ten, I hold onto any scrap of a memory I can hold of him but they’re slowly fading. Ever since I’ve been reckless, stupid, and childish. I almost died y/n, how could I possibly take care of children when I can barely take care of myself.” Pietro sighs and takes another deep breath.

“Truth be told I’m still much of a child myself, I couldn’t leave you with children because I died trying to prove something to myself. I couldn’t bear knowing I’d failed you and our children as a father.” Pietro finishes in a low murmur, allowing his tears to flow freely as he expressed his deepest fear and insecurity.

“Printsessa, you’ve helped me learn how to slow down and appreciate my life, but I’m still far from perfect. It’s hard for me to imagine being a father when I can see myself screwing everything up for the person who makes my life better.” He continues, gently pulling back from your arms to show the sincerity he held.

Your heart warms at the love Pietro held for you, but your stomach drops when learn his fear. Placing your hand on his cheek, you pull him towards you again, rest your forehead against his and gently clear your voice.

“Perhaps we’re not talking about the same Pietro love.” You comment softly, brushing the hair from your boyfriend’s confused eyes.

“Because my Pietro Django Maximoff, is the farthest from reckless, stupid or childish.” You begin, stroking his face with your thumb.

“My Pietro is selfless, ready at all times to help someone in need and save the day.” You smirk, watching his lips turn up as you press a peck to his nose.

“He’s brave, willing to do whatever it takes to help, but also smart enough to know when enough is enough.” You continue, kissing the tears off his cheeks.

“He’s fun, always knows how to make everyone smile.”

“y/n, I—”

“Pietro, you could never ‘fail’ me. We aren’t perfect, we’ll learn as we grow.” You smile, leaning into Pietro to press a butterfly kiss to his lips.

“Remember there’s no rush darling, and no matter what, ya tebya lyublyu.” You say as clearly as you can.

Pietro does his best to hide his laugh, but it’s futile as a low chuckle escapes.

“I butchered it didn’t I?” You sigh, shaking your head gently.

“Only a little krasivaya.” Pietro smiles, kissing your temple.

“Y-You know that’s the first time you’ve said that.” Pietro murmurs, holding you tightly against him, arms wound against your waist.

“I wanted to save it for sometime special… And I’ve been practicing.” You laugh.

“Aw I’m flattered dorogoy.” Pietro chuckles, falling onto the bed and pulling you down with him.

“Pietro!”

“You know you love it, moya lyubov.” He chuckles breathily, leaving a trail of kisses on the side of your neck.

“I love you too, printsessa. So very much.” Pietro sighs, his thick accent rolling smoothly off his tongue.

“So. Learn as we grow Piet?”

“With you beside me, anything y/n.” Pietro laughs, moulding your lips together in a soft kiss.

“Now c’mon, Nat’s picking the movie tonight.” You murmur against him.

“Oh, I love a good horror movie, Clint always screams.” Pietro laughs, standing again and pulling you bridal style into his arms, and running you to the living room.

————

“Shh, shh you’re going to wake up mama.”

You awake to the glow of a faint light and the sound of a soft cry. Squeezing your eyes together, you shift yourself to your side and attempt to drift off when a voice catches your attention.

Singing.

Coaxing your eyes open, you turn over again and glance to the other side of your bedroom where Pietro sat cradling your bundle of joy.

Pietro’s smooth voice had brought the cries to a happy coo, and you could see your daughter’s small hand reach up and touch her father’s face.

“Good morning Piet.” You smile, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.

“It’s only three a.m dorogoy, go back to bed.” Pietro insists as you stand and make your way over to him.

“And let you become the favourite, I know your plans love.” You smirk, wrapping one arm around Pietro’s shoulder and using the other to caress his cheek.

“Alright, you caught me.” Pietro chuckles, gently rocking the baby in his arms.

“Hate to say I told you so.” You laugh in a sing-song voice.

“Oh I’m still terrified, zhena.” Pietro smiles nervously, glancing over at you and pausing as he takes in your beauty in the low light. His heart flutters at the sight of you smiling down at your baby, his train of thought getting lost as you look back at him.

“But?” You question when Pietro’s sentence drops.

“But— I must say my love for you and our little angel is... Much stronger.” He murmurs, kissing your baby’s forehead.

Your heart warms at the sight of your husband's smile that matches your little girl’s.

“Learn as we grow?” Pietro smiles, leaning forward with his eyes closed.

“With you by my side, anything Piet.” You smirk, taking his fingers in your chin and meeting him halfway.

Pietro tilts his chin to deepen the kiss, but the sound of high pitched coos pull you apart.

“ya tebya lyublyu, Piet.” You sigh, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your little girl’s forehead and then the corner of Pietro’s lip.

“I love you too, y/n.” He murmurs dreamily.

“Now come on, she’s practically fighting to keep her eyes open now.” You giggle glancing down at your child’s half closed eyes.

“Alright, alright.” Pietro chuckles, placing your daughter back in the crib and collapsing onto your mattress.

“You’re doing amazing my love.” You yawn as Pietro pulls you to his chest and leans into you for a slow kiss.

“You’re not too bad yourself, printsessa.” He murmurs against your lips.

It was all even better than you had imagined.

[edendaphne]

“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 19

>>Click here to read on Ao3<<

>>Click here to read on Wattpad<<

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CHAPTER 19: ATTACCA

Music glossary:        Attacca - "To attack at once"; used as a direction in music at the end of a movement to begin the next without pause

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(Mood music: "The Conversation" - Pearl Django)

Being mere months away from graduating lycée meant that their group of friends didn’t have as many classes together, due to their diverse individual interests and talents. However, they always made sure to make time to hang out after school before their extracurricular activities began.

And thus, Adrien, Nino, and Alya made their way to the classroom where the art club gathered to meet up with Marinette. From there, Adrien would make his way to either fencing lessons or Chinese, depending on the day of the week. Marinette would join him on days when he had Chinese (as she’d become determined to master the language ever since her uncle visited from Shanghai a few years back), Alya would go to her journalism club, and Nino would travel to his part-time internship at the local recording studio.

“–and the backlogs just keep piling up!” Alya spoke as they walked, voice full of vigor and excitement. “I’ve had to recruit yet another mod to help me keep order in the forums! Especially since the Ladyblog has started going international and we’ve had to organize servers in different languages. You wouldn’t believe how crazy it’s gotten in there recently!”

“Dang, babe,” Nino interjected. “Sounds like things are super rough for you right now.”

“Not really, more busy than anything. Especially because I have that big research article due next week, there’s just not enough hours in the day to try to read everything that goes on in there. But I have my mods report to me daily, ‘cause I always like to stay on top of everything that goes on in the chats!”

“What’s gotten everyone so riled up in the Ladyblog lately?” Adrien chimed in. “I don’t recall it being nearly this busy last year.”

The trio entered the art club’s classroom and settled down at the table where Marinette sat, getting her various sketches organized. The art teacher was quite easy going, so they didn’t have to talk in hushed whispers and could come and go as they pleased.

“Well, to be honest, it’s because of Chat Noir,” Alya replied.

Adrien tried to contain his surprise. “R-really? What– uhhh, what do people have to say about him?”

He winced inwardly. He knew he shouldn’t ask. But curiosity got the better of him today. Maybe learning the news through the filter or Alya’s paraphrasing instead of reading the negative comments firsthand would lessen the sting of what people said about him.

Marinette whipped her head around at the mention of his alter ego. “Wait, what about Chat Noir?” she inquired.

“Girl,” Alya replied, her voice filled with renewed exuberance. “You would not believe how much we’ve had to censor and moderate all the inappropriate things people have been saying!”

Adrien flinched in his seat. “Wow… do people really hate him that much?” he asked, trying to conceal the dejection in his voice.

Alya busted out into loud guffaws. “Hate?! Dude, most people don’t hate him; they LOVE him! By ‘inappropriate’ comments, I mean the kinda stuff you wouldn’t want your grandma to catch you reading! There’s a whole giant section dedicated to his new fan club!” she said as she removed her glasses so she could wipe away the tears of laughter.

“WHAT?!” Adrien squawked in confusion, his face feeling hotter than the ovens back at the bakery. “A fan club??”

Marinette burst into uncontrollable snickering. “Has it really gotten that bad?!”

Nino joined in, “Bro! Adrien, I can’t believe you haven’t heard Alya rant about these rabid fans before! They call themselves the ‘Noir Nation’, and the kind of things they’ve been writing would make adult romance authors blush like schoolgirls!”

Alya nodded, thoroughly amused. “And that’s not including all the fanfiction people have been writing.”

“Wait– the WHAT?! There’s fanfiction?!!” Marinette gaped in shock, as if she’d been hit in the face with an enormous pie. “Alya, how come I never knew about this?!”

“Why? You wanna read em? Girl, you’ll get no judgment from me. If you wanna check ‘em out for yourself, just go check under the hashtag ‘Ladynoir’.”

Marinette stammered as her arms flailed in her bewilderment, accidentally knocking her phone off the table and onto the floor, her eyes bigger and rounder than Adrien had ever seen them. “They have a ship name?!” she screeched.

“Just mind the ratings though,” Alya advised. “Some of them can get pretty steamy. You wouldn’t want someone to catch you reading those in public,” she added with a wink.

Marinette continued to sputter incoherently. “NO, I am NOT gonna read it!! It would be different if they were fictional characters, but I could never read fanfiction about real people!”

Alya raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “Mm-hmm… Sure.”

Marinette’s hands flew to her face, trying to hide how red her entire face had gotten, and released a long squeak that resembled a hamster on helium. As shocked as Adrien was about these rather unexpected news, seeing Marinette’s over-the-top reaction brought a wide grin to his face and he busted out laughing.

He bent over to retrieve Marinette’s phone, since she was too busy being mortified to notice it had fallen to the floor. As he was about to hand it back, the screen lit up and Adrien saw the lockscreen wallpaper: it was the same photo of Ladybug and Chat Noir that he himself had saved earlier that day. He smiled, not exactly sure what to make of it, but finding it adorable that she’d liked the photo enough to set it as her lockscreen.

He tapped her shoulder, waiting for her to respond. She emerged from behind her impromptu hand shield and turned her head, then her eyes widened once again as soon as she saw what Adrien was showing her. She jolted straight up, stiff as a board, and her eyes met his, cheeks turning tomato red. He winked at her, amused about this little secret between them, and handed back her phone without a word.

Marinette accepted it with a meek-sounding, “Thanks,” looking like she wanted to explain the photo, but not able to do so unless she wanted Alya and Nino to find out that she was potentially a… ahem– “Ladynoir” shipper.

Switching the conversation to something else (which Marinette seemed to be eternally grateful for), the group chatted until it became time for them to scatter to their next destinations.

With a wave, Adrien exited the classroom and headed towards fencing practice, one of the few activities he decided to stick with despite not being forced to participate. Fencing, along with Chinese lessons, were not only enjoyable, but were also quite useful. Sadly, he didn’t have access to a piano anymore, so he wasn’t able to pursue that hobby for the time being. Hopefully later down the line, when things had settled down and he’d found his own place to live, he’d be able to finance one.

Thinking about the future had become an exciting pastime instead of an anxiety-inducing one, and it was all thanks to his friends and those he cared about. He smiled as he reached the door to the locker rooms, continuing to daydream of what was to come.

(Mood music: "Recollection 3" - Shirō Sagisu (BLEACH OST, "The Diamond Dust Rebellion")

Adrien finished getting dressed for fencing, his head still blissfully floating in the clouds. He stored his belongings into his assigned locker, shutting it with a loud clang, which echoed through the empty room.

Huh...? Empty?

He swiveled his head around, surprised that there was no one beside him. He stood up and began walking down the large room, peeking down the other locker rows looking for his classmates; but there was nobody.

Where was everyone? There’s no way that every single one of them was running late. Had his lessons been cancelled and he’d somehow missed a text message or email? He began heading back towards his locker to check his phone for any schedule changes.

Before he reached his destination, however, heavy thudding footsteps broke the eerie silence. Adrien whipped his body around to greet whoever they belonged to.

The owner of those footsteps was one of the last people Adrien expected to meet here.

“Gaspard?!”

Adrien stood agape, face to face with his old bodyguard, whom he hadn’t seen in a couple of years; not since he’d resigned and moved out of the country. Nathalie had mentioned that in his resignation letter, Gaspard said that he’d become involved in an overseas business venture involving the market of rare action figures. Nevertheless, Adrien couldn’t help but suspect that his father’s ill temper and poor treatment of their employees was the true reason for his departure.

Adrien’s first reaction was surprise and joy, and he rushed forward to greet and embrace him. However, as he approached and got a better look at the man’s face, Adrien’s mood instantly morphed into confusion and apprehension. There was something odd about his eyes.

Something wasn’t right. Why was Gaspard here? And why now?

He came to a halt about a meter before reaching him. An oppressive weight seemed to press in all around him, and he had to suppress a shiver. “Wait. Gaspard, did–” he gulped, “–did my father send you?”

His old bodyguard did not reply, but took a heavy step towards him. Adrien stepped back.

“Please… I can’t go back. I live somewhere else now, and I’m very happy there. Whatever he told you about the situation, it’s a lie.”

His bodyguard continued to approach him, his stare vacant and unsettling.

Fighting the urge to panic, he pleaded, “You don’t have to do this. If he’s offered you compensation, I can match it; it’ll just take me a bit of time. But we can work something out, right?? For old time’s sake?”

He continued walking backwards until he bumped into something firm, but it wasn’t a wall; it was another person. Before he could turn around, they grabbed him by the shoulders, detaining him and preventing him from running away.

He was about to shout for help when something sharp jabbed him on the side of the neck, injecting a cold liquid. Adrien’s eyes grew wide in terror.

Shit.

Adrien swore as he jerked away, elbowing whoever was behind him and managing to break free. Rubbing at the spot where the syringe had stabbed him, he glanced back to take a look at his other assailant, only to see... another Gaspard?

Why are there two of him??

This was wrong. Gaspard didn’t have a twin; he knew that for a fact. He’d worked for the Agrestes ever since Adrien was a toddler and was too young to even pronounce his name correctly (hence the nickname “Gorille”, which stuck around for years afterwards). Additionally, there was something uncanny, otherworldly, even, about the way these two men looked and moved.

He shook himself out of his stupor. He didn’t have time to contemplate any possible explanations. He had to get out of there fast.

He sprinted towards the exit, but only managed to travel a few paces before he lost his footing and tripped. He fell to the ground hard, almost hitting his head on a nearby bench. As he struggled to get up, he realized that his fingers and toes had already gone numb.

Not good.

Time was running out. Adrenaline coursed through him and, with a grunt, he hefted himself to his feet and scrambled towards the exit, as fast as he could despite a heavy limp. Though his heart was hammering and his legs felt like they were filled with sand, he pushed himself, concentrating on reaching the door.

After taking a few steps, however, he realized that even if he did manage to exit the locker room, the area beyond was an open courtyard. Meaning he wasn’t going to be able to reach someplace safe before getting caught. He had no choice but to transform into Chat Noir, and hopefully Plagg’s powers and strength could help him escape and find somewhere to hide.

He’d scarcely uttered the first syllable in the transformation phrase when he was tackled to the ground. A giant hand swiftly covered his mouth and Adrien felt his hands get bound together with thick zip ties behind his back. A muffled scream of writhing frustration made its way up his throat as his limbs became more and more useless by the second.

No… This can’t be happening! Please, this can’t be how it all ends!

Just when his life had finally gained a semblance of normalcy and he’d found happiness again, it would get ripped away and he would disappear without a trace, leaving everyone to wonder what had happened to him. Leaving his friends to think that Gabriel had pulled him from school and they would never see him again. Leaving Ladybug to wonder if Chat had abandoned her forever. Leaving her to fight Hawkmoth alone. Again.

He couldn’t let that happen. He thrashed and struggled as furiously as he could, fighting the feelings of overwhelming helplessness that threatened to consume him. Nearing despair, he was too distracted to notice Plagg phrasing through the wall, away from the skirmish, in search of the only person who could save him.

(Mood music: "Run" - Ludovico Einaudi)

Marinette fidgeted with her pencil, her feet wiggled and bounced under her desk. She didn’t understand; when she’d arrived at the art club, her head had been filled with inspiration and ideas that she’d been excited to draw and execute. However, at the moment, her mind was filled with noise and disquietude.

Having had enough, she excused herself to visit the restroom. Once she’d walked far enough from the classroom, she opened her purse to talk to Tikki about her current dilemma.

“It’s the same feeling as last night, Tikki! Except that would mean one of three possibilities. Option A.) It’s nothing and I’m going crazy. And— don’t give me that look, Tikki! I can see what you’re thinking and I don’t have time for your cheeky sass right now!” The kwami snickered while Marinette cleared her throat and continued, “Option B.) that Chat is here, at this school, which is impossible because his school’s on the other side of the city, that’s why he always leaves the house super early for his long commute.”

Tikki opened her mouth and looked like she was about to say something, but then didn’t (...or couldn’t?).

Marinette resumed, “Or, C.) that my–– what do I even call it? My ‘Spidey sense’??–– that it’s got a long distance mode, and Chat is all the way across Paris and he’s in trouble! But what am I supposed to do about that from here?! I wouldn’t even know where to begin looking!”

Tikki shrugged. “Follow your instincts, Marinette. There’s no harm in taking a quick look around the school, right?”

Marinette groaned. “UGH! It doesn’t make sense!! Am I going to get interrupted like this all the time from now on?” She shook her head resolutely. “No. I can’t just go off on random field trips every single time I feel a random fit of anxiety. I’m sure it’s just leftover jitters from last night. I’m supposed to call Master Fu after school anyway; he can help me figure everything out. I’m just gonna go back to class and forget about it.”

Tikki frowned, not quite convinced, but deciding not to press further.

Marinette made her way back to the classroom in a frustrated huff. But as her hand reached to turn the handle, the feelings of danger and urgency multiplied tenfold. Without a word, she sprinted away in the opposite direction, not even knowing where she was running to, only knowing she had to get there immediately.

She reached the large common area of the school downstairs. Her head whipped around, frantically searching for something, anything. In her haste, she didn’t notice a small black creature zoom into her open purse.

A few moments later, she felt a frantic tugging at her shirt from below.

“Marinette!! Over there! Check the locker room, quick!!!” Tikki whisper-screamed as she peeked outside the purse, her tone uncharacteristically frantic.

Marinette nodded, then sprinted to the locker room.

“Wait! You should transform first!” Tikki added.

No time!

“Marinette, wait!!”

Despite Tikki’s protests, Marinette raced towards the double doors, tackling them open.

Three sets of eyes landed on her as she skidded to a halt, but only one pair consumed her entire attention. She gasped in horror, hands flying to her face as she stared at what was occurring in front of her. Adrien let out a desperate, muffled scream urging her to run.

His panicked voice snapped her out of her dazed shock; but instead of running, she stood her ground, eyes darting back and forth across the area searching for something useful. The room was remarkably barren except for a lone broom a short distance away from her. She grabbed it and leaped towards the closest attacker (the one holding Adrien down), swinging it like a baseball bat.

The man didn’t even try to avoid the hit; the broomstick merely bounced off the side of his face where Marinette had hit him. She frowned in confusion, then tried hitting him again, bringing the stick down on the top of his head like an axe.

SNAP.

The end of the broom flew off, and Marinette stared in shock at the broken broomstick.

“What the hell are you?!” Marinette exclaimed, shifting her grip on the shortened wooden stub.

She pounced at the second bodyguard, bringing her weapon down in a stabbing motion; but he swatted at her hand, disarming her. She yelped in pain, leaping backwards to get some distance between them.

She was outmatched. The only strategy available was to use their own size against them. With a feint to the side, she shot at his legs for a takedown, hoping to catch him off balance. He called her bluff and shoved her backwards with his giant palm, then kneed her in the stomach.

Winded from the impact, Marinette doubled over with a gasping wheeze, fighting with all her might to keep herself from collapsing onto the ground. She forced herself upright and attacked again. With a clumsy jerk, she lunged forward, swinging wild punches at her opponent. The shots connected but his expression barely changed; it was like beating a breathing punching bag.

The bodyguard backhanded Marinette across the face. Pain shooting across her cheek, she staggered, almost losing her balance. In her daze, she watched helplessly as the man reared his arm back. There was no chance to dodge. His fist connected with her abdomen, delivering a liver shot that shut down her entire body. She crumpled to the floor as if boneless. She tried to call out Adrien’s name, but her mouth merely opened in a silent scream.

Marinette could hear Adrien’s distressed screaming, but it sounded distant, like they were underwater. The edges of her vision grew black and fuzzy, the entire room dissolving around her. She had to consciously force her lungs to inhale, but couldn’t fill them all the way, as if a boulder had been placed on top of her chest.

Faintly, she felt herself getting picked up off the ground and carried away over someone’s shoulder. Disoriented and semi-blinded, the sudden movement and rough jostling made her head spin and gave her vertigo. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block it all out.

A few moments later, they stopped moving, and she heard a door burst open. Where were they? Before she could gather her senses, she was in the air, thrown several meters away, landing with a hard thud. A sharp pain traveled down her body as she rolled into the wall across them. The shriek that tried to escape her throat emerged as a strained, shallow whine.

The man stomped out, leaving her alone in the room. “Stop…!” she rasped out, managing to tilt her neck upwards, head pounding.

The bodyguard slammed the door shut, followed by a bang and a clattering sound that could only mean he’d broken the doorknob of whatever room she was in.

Marinette's vision became more and more blurred. At the verge of losing consciousness, she fought to keep her eyes open as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

No, she couldn’t pass out! She had to save Adrien! Stay awake, Marinette, stay awake!!

She bit down on her lip hard, focusing on the sharp sting, on the swelling that was already forming around her right eye, forcing herself to feel the pain her body was in. At this moment, feeling pain was better than falling unconscious. She concentrated on her breathing, slowly regaining her senses.

She reached down to open her purse and get Tikki’s help… only to be met with emptiness. Panic settled in her gut as she realized that sometime during the skirmish, the purse had slipped off her shoulder. She sat up, slowly, so she wouldn’t risk feeling faint again from the change in positions.

She squinted, adjusting her eyesight to the darkness of the room. It seemed to be some sort of supply closet. After a failed few attempts to stand, she crawled towards the door instead, careful not to bump into the crates and shelves that filled the area.

The girl eyed the broken doorknob wearily. She was pretty proficient at lockpicking and breaking into things, but not as good at breaking out. Her only hope was that Tikki would be able to find her… if she was even nearby.

She swore to herself. Why had she rushed in and attacked two grown ass men (who, incidentally, may or may not be supernatural to boot!) instead of hiding and creating a strategy?! Now she was useless, Tikki was gone, and Adrien was surely on his way to get auctioned to the highest bidder in the criminal black market and ransomed off for an enormous sum. Great job, Marinette. Adrien’s been abducted and it’s all your fault.

Gathering all the determination she could muster, she tried to call out for help. But her voice was still too hoarse, and only a weak croak came out. She clenched her fists, grumbling irritably. Time for a different approach. Somehow, she needed to make noise.

After a brief search, she found a hard, metallic object that she could use to hammer on the door. She tested it out; it was surprisingly effective. She doubled her efforts, making as big a racket as possible. Hopefully, it would only be a matter of time before somebody heard her, let her out, and she could go find Adrien.

She couldn’t let anything else happen to another loved one. Not again.

–––––

I'M REEEAAAAALLY SORRY FOR THAT CLIFFHANGER JSHDKFJHSKDF ᕕ(╯°д°)ᕗ  I tried splitting up the sections differently but it didn't really flow as well.

But the next chapter is almost done, so I'll have it ready by next weekend!!

[guacam011y]

***SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 5 OF WANDAVISION***

HOLY SHITE MY MIND IS BLOWN

TOMMY AND BILLY CRYING

“Do you want me to take that again?” “Take it from the top?”

Agnes knows ! Tiger - Ralph

“Dark liquor” Vision being concerned

Billy and Tommy aged up?!

I DO NOT TRUST HAYWARD

SCARLET WITCH - TALKING ABOUT HOW WANDA DOESN’T HAVE A CODENAME

SIS STRAIGHT UP TOOK VISIONS CORPSE

HEX — HER POWERS GET REFERRED TO AS HEX POWERS SOMETIMES IN THE COMICS

CAPTAIN MARVEL REFERENCE

NORM SAYING NONE OF IT IS REAL

SPARKY THE DOG - VISION HAD A STAND ALONE AND STOLE A DOG

HER ACCENT

LAGOS

SHE DOESNT KNOW HOW ANY OF THIS STARTED IN THE FIRST PLACE

EVAN PETERS AS QUICKSILVER

DARCY GOING “SHE RECAST PIETRO?” MOOOD

X-MEN, START TO THE MULTIVERSE?!

WANDA CAN’T BE THE ONLY ONE CONTROLLING IT

IS MONICA MAD AT CAROL???

MONICA X DARCY?! WHAT A POWER COUPLE THAT WOULD BE

SIS REALLY ENDGAME - ENDGAME ENDED WITH TONY’S FUNERAL AND WANDA PROBS WENT STRAIGHT FROM THERE AND STOLE HER DEAD BF’S CORPSE (can’t really blame her, it looked like they were trying to experiment on Vis and could it be Hayward behind it?)

WHO WAS THAT ENGINEER THAT MONICA WAS GOING TO CONTACT?

BABY VISION

AND AGNES DEFINITELY KNOWS SOMETHING

DARCY FINALLY GOT HER COFFEE

SO VIS SAID THAT WANDA COULD’VE MADE EVERYTHING SUBCONSCIOUSLY AND THAT OVER TIME SHE BECAME AWARE OF IT, AND SIS DEFO HAS SOME CONTROL BUT IT’S NOT ALL HER. I THINK AGNES IS AGATHA HARKNESS AND EITHER MEPHISTO IS BEHIND IT OR IT’S NIGHTMARE AND THEY’VE MAYBE POWERED UP NIGHTMARE

***FURTHER UPDATES AND EASTER EGGS***

Auntie Agnes and Agnes saying she has a few tricks up her sleeve - we should definitely take note of that seeing as Agnes definitely has something to do with the whole situation

Wanda and Vision’s house changed again, being inspired by Family Ties, possibly Full House and Growing Pains

“Do you want me to take it from the top?” It seems as though when someone, this time Vision, steers away from the script, things either reset themselves or people become aware to some capacity, although Agnes probably already knows

Speaking of Growing Pains - It had a spin off called “Just the 10 of Us” in which the director for Wandavision, Matt Shakman, was apart of the cast - and seemingly also inspired the theme song for this week

We should definitely keep an eye on Monica and her potential for powers. With Maria last episode revealed to have gone by the name ‘Photon’ (which is a name that Monica uses as one of her aliases in the comics) and could inspire Monica’s name as she develops her powers - those scans didn’t look 100% normal. Monica has also used the Captain Marvel monicker in the comics

Wanda’s energy field and such being referred to as “Hex” short for Hexagon, could be a little nod to the comics where Wanda’s powers are sometimes called Hex powers

She’s never been referred to as the Scarlet Witch on the big screen - and it seems as though she soon may earn that code name

So we now know that Wanda stole Vision’s corpse from S.W.O.R.D, but did she actually re animate him fully? He’s still got the gem in the centre of his forehead, but the last time he had it was in Infinity War where it promptly got ripped out by Thanos - so has Wanda found her own way of reanimating him and he’s alive or is he dead and just a trick of the mind - though from other trailers/previews, Vis is seen trying to and looks successful at leaving Wanda’s barrier

They had a little call back to Captain America: Civil War with the Sokovia Accords, which were targeting the Avengers in general but were created when Wanda lost control of her powers and killed civilians

A little joke towards Vis as playing “Father Knows Best” in their little suburbia - Which was a sitcom that ran for 200 episodes in the 50’s

Sparky ! A little nod to the little green dog from the Walta and King comics run for Vision and unfortunately soon meets the same fate 💔

A little nod to Endgame when we hear from Monica that Wanda definitely could’ve taken down Thanos by herself had Thanos not rained fire - and Jimmy arguing that Captain Marvel could’ve just as easily done it - which leaves Monica with an angry look on her face

Good ol’ dial up internet

Can Vis “save” the residents of Westview? He can still seemingly interact with people’s minds, with or without the mind stone - Norm soon comes out of his trance as Vis snaps him out of it and asks to call his sister and that he has to save them all from “her” - now this “her” could be Wanda...but it could also be Agnes and then Vis shuts him down soon enough again and Norm goes back to his sit com self

Billy and Tommy are fully aware, or at least suspect Wanda’s abilities - after asking her to bring back Sparky from the dead and speaking of Billy and Tommy - could they be semi permanent fixtures in the MCU, it would help to introduce the Young Avengers eventually. They'll do Young Avengers at some point since Kang is supposed to be a thing in the third Ant-Man.

Teddy, unfortunately, I don't think will be here for a bit (I really hope he is though!). I think the guy they hired that everyone is rumoring to be Teddy might just be an episode about Billy coming to terms with his sexuality and Wanda and Vis learning to accept it in the way that era of tv they're in would go about with that kind of episode and the dude is just a dude - but again, I really hope it’s Teddy 😭

Wanda leaves the hex after a mini missile/plane tries to shoot at her - and she’s in her Scarlet Witch costume and is seemingly mostly back to her “normal self”, which includes her accent !

Lagos brand paper towels - “For when you make a mess you didn’t mean to” - a nod to Civil War again in which Wanda accidentally blew up a building in Lagos and caused the Sokovian accords to come to fruition

The mail man again - I also think he was in the commercial but anywho - “Your mom won’t let him go far” similar to “Much like she won’t let anyone leave” a potential nod to Wanda or Agnes not letting anyone leave?

“We can’t reverse death” and yet she brought Vision back - keeping in mind that he’s an android but still a little foreshadow to what happened at the end of the ep? Better yet, could Pietro coming back be a distraction for Wanda? Agnes or whoever introducing someone that Wanda lives in hopes that she won’t go full on breakdown superpowers or just to give her an attachment to Westview even more and make her not want to leave at all

“She recasted Pietro” EVAN ! I’m so pumped for this - it seems this could turn into the X-Men making their debut earlier than expected possibly? In any case, it’s a nice little Easter Egg to the previous Fox franchise of X-Men movies where Evan played Peter Maximoff “Quicksilver” alongside James McAvoy as Prof X, Hugh Jackman as Wolverine and so many others - and with Deadpool being confirmed as Disney’s first R rated film, it seems Mutants are definitely on their way to the MCU

Agnes is definitely Agatha or a gender bent Nightmare

The way Billy shed himself and Tommy up was scary - definitely a little nod to his powers coming in

Multiple different perspectives of Wanda saying that Monica left

Red Hex dialled up to around light sources (computer, window, etc.)

Vision mentions reading Charles Darwin’s The Descent of Man - which could refer to Mutants entering the MCU, Mutants being superior to humans

Agnes calls herself Auntie Agnes - in episode 2 during the title sequence in the grocery store there’s a product called ‘Auntie A’s Kitty Litter’

Agnes refers to herself as a Tiger and in the episode, there’s a Tiger on the dining table in the kitchen - could that be a listening device, her eyes and ears?

There are no other children in Westview - Billy and Tommy are immune because they have no prior trauma

Elizabeth Olsen’s photos are real and slightly altered with Sokovian flags in the background

In the birthday shot of Billy and Tommy, they have ‘1,2,3,4,5’ candles all on one cake

In the holiday photos, Vision goes from Turkey to Easter Bunny, to Santa and progressively gets more unhappy - realising he no longer wants to play along in Wanda’s Hex

During Monica’s callbacks to seeing Wanda’s pain inside her head, we see a new shot of Wanda crying - it looks like it’s around the time she stole Vision’s corpse, as the outfit she’s wearing is very similar, if not the same - could this be an after shot of when she’s trying to bring Vision back?

During the scene where we see the footage of Wanda stealing Vision’s corpse, the S.W.O.R.D logo that appears on the table has 8 stars around the rim of the logo but then has a 9th one in the middle - could this be a little Easter Egg to the nine realms of the Cosmos? And there’s also a map showing Cape Canaveral, could that be where S.W.O.R.D’s headquarters are?

Wanda and Pietro were born in 1989 to Irina and Oleg Maximoff - who were killed in an air raid when the twins were 10. In the comics, Wanda and Pietro were raised by Django and Maria Maximoff, before their true parentage was revealed as being the children of Magneto, however, in the comics this has been retconned so that Wanda and Pietro are no longer Mutants and the High Evolutionary had just disguised them as Mutants (something I think they should undo tbh - MARVEL, PLEASE MAKE WANDA AND PIETRO MUTANTS AGAIN!!!)

Speaking of the air raid, that was also referenced in Age of Ultron by Pietro and Wanda - “We were 10 years old, having dinner the four of us. And the first shell hits 2 floors below, makes a hole in the floor” - was the beeping Stark toaster be what that was referring to?

WHIH reappears for a brief cameo as the news service in the MCU - and Hayward cuts off Jimmy as he was trying to defend Wanda’s reputation, in which Jimmy then turns to Darcy and says “I try not to speak ill of people” Darcy then follows up with “Then allow me, Hayward’s a-“ and then she’s cut off by a shot back to Hayward saying the word “Terrorist” which would make sense as it seems with Vision’s corpse, he may have been trying to make sentient weapons and by subverting Vision’s will and blaming Wanda of doing the same. In the footage shown of Wanda stealing Vision’s remains, we see Vision broken up into parts and S.W.O.R.D seems to be experimenting on him and this seems to be the robotics/nanotech project that Hayward was referring to. Monica asks Hayward about the footage saying “When was this?” to which Hayward replies saying “9 days ago. Maximoff stormed our facility, stole Vision’s body and resurrected him” - this would mean that Wanda took Vision 2 weeks after the events of Endgame, about a week before Monica returned to S.W.O.R.D and Hayward didn’t tell her any of this and when he sent her in there, he knew exactly what he was doing - with her reputation after Civil War, this makes it easier for Hayward to paint her as the villain.

Back in Westview, Tommy wears red and Billy wears green - which are the colours that Wiccan and Speed wear in the comics, respectively. And it’s also the colours that Wanda and Vision are known for and appears quite a lot in their wardrobes

More in regards to Sparky, he was the synthezoid dog in Tom King’s run of Vision - the story being that he was originally a dog named Zeke who unfortunately passed away after digging up the Grim Reaper’s corpse and getting zapped. The Grim Reaper’s helmet appears during the title sequence of Episode 2 in the floorboards. Could Sparky have been trying to dig up a similar thing when he was caught by Agnes and consequently killed?

Monica mentions that she knows this aerospace engineer, they’re never shown but she is seen texting them. Could it be Reed Richards a.k.a Mr Fantastic? Hayward did mention that some astronauts used to work for S.W.O.R.D before a mission went haywire - though it seems a bit lacklustre to introduce such highly anticipated characters this way. Could it instead be the Skrull daughter of Talos that Monica befriended at the end of Captain Marvel? She mentioned that they had extraterrestrial allies in episode 4 working with her and Fury as apart of S.W.O.R.D - in the Spanish subtitles they use the feminine articles for this engineer - so I think it’s more likely to be Talos’s daughter

The board that we saw in Episode 4 now includes the mailman, drivers license and all - could he be Jimmy’s missing witness?

The tension in the room after Jimmy references Carol is similarly seen when in Spider-Man: Far From Home, where Peter asks Skrull Fury/Talos “How about Captain Marvel?” To which Talos replies “Don’t involve her name”. Fury, Monica and Talos were all on the side of the Skrulls by then end of Captain Marvel and the space station that Fury was on maybe apart of S.W.O.R.D. So did Carol betray them?

A slight reference to Captain America: The First Avenger is made when Monica pulls a Peggy Carter and shoots at something to see if it’s bulletproof, in Peggy’s case it was the iconic Captain America shield and in the case of Monica, it was her clothes that she was wearing after Wanda threw her out of the Hex

Abilash (Norm) never states that Wanda is the one that Vision has to save them from, it’s just “her” - could this instead be Agnes?

When Billy is training Sparky to sit, he puts the treat by his ear up to his temple - a future reference that Billy will one day share the same powers as his mum?

During the scene in which Wanda leaves the Hex briefly, she turns the guns onto Hayward but none are trained on Monica - she may still trust Monica slightly, whereas with Hayward, she slightly more pissed off because of what he was doing to Vision’s remains. And turning a bunch of guns on the people you don’t trust? Like father, like daughter as Magneto pulls a similar move in one of the X-Men films - Hopefully, the big cameo they keep teasing will be Ian McKellan as Magneto or the Magnus of this House of M adaptation

During when Agnes “found” Sparky, she says he died from eating too many leaves from her plants - in the Tom King Vision run, one of Vision’s kids ends up killing Sparky and sees inside his stomach that there’s a plant that Agatha Harkness grows in her garden

All the names that appear during the credits that Wanda tries to run to end the show and to stop Vision from talking are names of people who work on the actual Wandavision show itself

When Evan Peter’s version of Quicksilver shows up, he says “Does a long lost bro get to squeeze his sister to death or what?” I DO NOT TRUST THIS PIETRO - Similar to Wandavision, the Fox X-Men movies moved up decade by decade - First Class was in the 1960s, Days of Future Past was in the 1970s, Apocalypse was in the 1980s and Dark Phoenix was in the 1990’s - which would make even more sense as MCU! Pietro wasn’t born until 1989, whereas Peter was active during the 1980s. I reckon that this Pietro is Jimmy’s missing witness, Agnes’s husband Ralph and is disguising itself as a comforting presence to Wanda as Vision no longer brings comfort and is trying to bring Wanda back to reality - and when he shows up, the mirror in the background behind Wanda is slightly distorted but his hand looks red and in the shot as well, there seems to be a grey arm reaching towards Pietro - in the shot itself behind and in front of Wanda, there’s nothing there but in the mirror, there is! Either way, I do not trust this Pietro and it’s just an entity trying to give Wanda the last thing that could make her happy - but it won’t last, as everything is already breaking down around her.

I seriously seriously love this show so much 💙

[deschroyer]

Troy's whole attention was on the Twatter post as he sat idle outside of the hunting store.

@DawnHearte Grognak did a quiz, I'm just sharing it for them lolz

1. How do they react when you look at them? He smiles, and kinda blushes a little. 2. How much time do the two of you spend together? We always spend time together. He's like the best person ever. 3. Have you broken the touch barrier? Yes. 4. How do you hug him? Just a regular hug. 5. Does he take time out to talk to you when you're not around? Sometimes, depends on who's busy or not. 6. Does he often take advice from you? Yes. 7. Has he ever spoken about the future to you? He mentions it, but gets cautious. 8. How is his reaction when you speak to other guys or if someone starts flirting with you? They don't seem to care much, just as long as I'm okay. 9. What do you think is your place in his life? We'll be cool forever.

TOTALLY MORE

You and your friend are so meant to be more. If you haven't spoken up, do so. NOW. Don't wait until your moment's up, because you only get one shot at things like this. Trust me, I know. Make the best of your friendship, and turn into something more. *link*

When he is through reading the whole quiz, Troy sits there stunned. He's ... just floored. He shakes his head roughly, trying his best to make sense of what he has just read.

Did ... did Grognak take a relationship quiz - about them?!

So many thoughts cross his mind, some he dismisses right away, others he lingers on with wishful thinking. If Grognak had actually filled out this quiz, he would be the ONLY one all of the questions and answers could pertain to, right? Troy lifts one hand to his chin in thought as he mulls over the Twatter post. It was from Dawn's Twatter after all, and not Grognak's own. And who could forget the last time Dawn was involved in anything to do with him and Grognak...

The front passenger door is abruptly thrown open, and Troy is so deep in thought about the twat that he nearly jumps out of his skin.

With her valley girl drawl and an annoying chuckle, the brunette clumsily seats herself in the Komoda with her bags of purchases. "All done! I know I took a little long, I'll compensate you at the docks," and she once again giggles inanely.

Troy's mind is in too much of a tizzy to notice.

***

He's been busy for the past few hours taxiing others around the city, but throughout the whole night he was distracted.

Countless times he'd missed a turn and had to pull a quick (albeit sick and skillful) u-turn to get back on track. If he thought about it, he could hardly remember what his passengers had even been going on about as he skidded throughout the city. By the time he had pulled to a stop outside of the apartments once again, his fingers were twitching - aching to pick up his phone and complete the quiz himself.

He scrolls back down to Dawn's twat, takes one calming breath, and clicks the link.

1. How does she react when you look at her? ... She doesn't mind much, and acts cool. Accurate enough.

2. How much time do the two of you spend together? Troy frowns with contempt. Through all his attempts to spend time with just Grognak, it never ends that way. Enough, we're never alone.

3. Have you broken the touch barrier? Sometimes, not really.

4. How do you hug her? A casual bear hug.

There is a sudden knock on his window that nearly sends him into cardiac arrest. Rolling down his window and powering down his phone screen, Troy whirls on the man standing outside his vehicle.

"For goodness sakes, what?!" His voice is more shrill than he means it to be, from the shock he tells himself.

"Whoa, chill dude, just wonderin' if you were Django's ride; lookin' for 'im," a younger man wearing a green jumpsuit holds his hands up briefly in surrender.

Sizing him up in a Los Santos minute, Troy waves his hand dismissively at the lad. By the time the young man has rounded the front of his car and turned to climb the steps, Troy’s let his head thump back against the headrest. He can hear his blood rushing in his ears and it isn't just because he's had a slight fright.

He sits like this for a moment, the cool air wafting in from the open window.

When he feels ready... he powers his phone screen back on.

5. Does she take time out to talk to you when you're not around? She doesn't call much or talk but tells me things that she feels I should know.

6. Does she often take advice from you? She takes my advice seriously, and gets really happy or whatever when I give it.

7. Has she ever spoken about the future to you? She changes the subject.

There's little you can hold against someone who cannot remember their past in full. What kind of gentleman would he be if he held her inability to make concrete plans against her?

8. How is her reaction when you speak to other girls/guys or if some other person starts flirting with you? They'll make an excuse to pop up and scoop me away.

Troy snickers to himself. Who would even be able to snatch his attention away?

9. What do you think is your place in her life? I don't know anymore.

JUST FRIENDS

You're in the friend zone. Whether you wanna be or not. Whatever you had felt for your friend was never heard, unless it was only in "friend" terms. Being in the friend zone can be total torture, or totally awesome, depending on you and your friend. Don't hurt yourself, make sure you are happy. If it wasn't meant to be, then don't ruin the goodness of solid friendship, because not a lot of people appreciate this.

The words seem to blur together the more he reads on; cognitive reasoning has shut down, comprehension has moved to a snails pace.

Just friends ... Friend zone ...

Friend, friend, friend.....

He drops the hand holding his cell phone to his lap slowly, robotically.

What in the hell is he supposed to think?

Did a quick google search for "are they my bf/gf", and Toni Santiago's was the first that I tried and I was pleased. So thank you to her https://www.quotev.com/quiz/1626110/Is-SheHe-A-Friend-Or-A-GirlfriendBoyfriend/result  -  Toni Santiago.

[fandoms-are-my-friends-1321]

Moon of my Life, My Sun and Stars

I know this is from Game of Thrones, but it works perfectly for this fic idea. This is my first time writing for King Schultz (even though I have another fic for him in my drafts). Anyway, hope you all enjoy it! As always gif and characters are not mine.

Description: Y/N thought that the person they liked returned their feelings, but they were sadly mistaken. Little did they know that a certain German has loved them all along

Warnings: cursing, mentions of murder/bounty hunting, a little bit of drinking, some insecurities/uncertainties, if I miss something feel free to tell me!

Y/N walked down the dirt road that cut the town of Daughtry in half. The sun had just started to set, and Y/N was eager to get to the local bar. They planned to meet with someone that they had fancied since they arrived in town a few weeks ago. It seemed obvious to them that this person had the same feelings, especially with the lingering looks and charming smile that they sent towards Y/N.

Y/N made sure to prepare for the occasion of course. They had on the nicest outfit they owned, and it was sure to impress the person they had fallen for. With a pep in their step, Y/N pushed open the swinging doors of the bar and walked inside. The other men and woman in the bar seemed to be enjoying themselves, and Y/N planned to join in on the fun.

Y/N spotted the person they were looking for sitting at the bar. They looked even more attractive than the first time Y/N saw them at a small shop in town. Y/N went to buy guns for Django and King Schultz, two bounty hunters that they started to travel with two years ago. The two men were trying to hide out, for they didn’t want their current bounty to know they were there. Y/N understood, and they were glad they weren’t with them that day. Sure, they were amazing people, but Y/N didn’t want them to interfere with their attempts at flirting.

Y/N’s attempts had worked, and that led to where they were now. However, things took a turn for the worst. A woman walked up to the person Y/N planned to meet, and they placed a rough kiss on their lips, which was gladly returned. Y/N could feel the bile rise in their throat, and they stormed out of the bar without looking back.

Y/N quickly dashed into the inn where they were staying with Django and King. The two were sitting at a table on the far side of the first floor, and they both noticed Y/N’s harsh entrance. The two men shared a look between each other before King stood up from his seat. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Come sit with Django and I, and we can talk about what happened.”

“I don’t need to talk about it! I just want to be alone,” Y/N shouted back as they climbed the stairs of the inn. They whiped at the stream of tears that started to fall from their eyes.

King simply stood in the middle of the inn. He had never seen Y/N so upset, and he never wanted to see it again. Over the two years that Y/N had traveled with him and Django, King had fallen for Y/N. Part of him knew that they deserved better, someone younger than him, and yet he couldn’t ignore his feelings for them. Django moved to stand beside King, and they both looked up the stairway. A loud slam could be heard from the top.

“Y/N seems pretty upset, Doc. I think we should leave them be for awhile,” Django commented.

“I can’t stand to see them like this. Y/N deserves the world, and I’m going to prove it to them,” King replied.

“While you do that, I’m going to take care of the bounty. If things go sideways, we’ll meet outside of town.”

King simply nodded his head, and Django went back to grab his gun that was laying on the table. Django swiftly left the inn while King ascended the stairway. Y/N was staying in the room across from Django and King’s, and on the other side of the thin door, the sounds of Y/N’s sobs reached his ears. He had heard men scream and beg for their lives, and yet this sound was far worse than that. He pushed back the long strands of his hair away from his face and sighed. King gently knocked on the door to Y/N’s room.

“May I come in Y/N? I’m not going to come in unless you want me too, but I want to help you through this, Fräulein,” King said as he waited patiently for Y/N to answer. No reply came, but King could hear movement from inside the room. Y/N appeared as they threw the door open. King’s chest tightened at the sight of them.

Y/N’s eyes were swollen, and tears still cascaded down their cheeks. King wondered how in the world someone could hurt Y/N, one of the sweetest people in the world, so much so that they reduced them to tears.

“There isn’t anything to talk about,” Y/N stated as they removed the tears from their cheeks in order to look somewhat presentable. “Everything is perfectly fine, but I appreciate the concern.” Y/N stumbled over to the vanity that stood beside a wide open window. They pulled a bottle of alcohol from one of the drawers, and took a long swig of the burning liquid.

King crossed the room in just a few steps, and gracefully removed the bottle from Y/N’s hand. “I don’t think you need any more of this, my dear.”

Y/N simply sat in silence. They were to wore out to try and argue, and they knew it would be pointless to argue since King was correct. The silence remained for a moment until King moved to stand next to Y/N. He placed his calloused hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Y/N inhaled a shakey breath. “I went to meet someone this evening. I thought that there could have been something between us, but I was a fool to believe that. I could never mean anything to anyone. I just, it’s hard sometimes.”

Y/N started to tear up again, but King had enough of seeing the one he cared about so dearly be torn apart by these emotions. He turned Y/N around and pulled them to his chest. The dam broke once again, and Y/N grabbed at King’s vest. King in return held them as close as he possible could, and rubbed reassuring circles on Y/N’s lower back.

“Shh, it’s okay, liebling. Everything’s going to be just fine. Come on, I have something I want to show you.”

King escorted Y/N down the stairs, his arm never leaving its position on their waist. They walked outside of the inn, and King gestured up at the sky. “Look around, and tell me what you see.”

Y/N sniffled as they moved their gaze up towards the heavens. “I see the stars and the moon.”

“That’s right, my dear. All across the sky are millions of stars, possibly even billions. Have you ever heard the Hindu myth about Ganesh and Krtikeya? It’s not as good as the German stories, but it’s not half bad.”

Y/N shook their head as they curled their arms around their body for warmth. “No, I don’t think I’ve ever heard that story. Will you tell it to me?”

“Of course. You see, Ganesh and Krtikeya had a competition. Whoever could travel three times around the universe the fastest would be declared the winner. Krtikeya rode his chariot at lightning speed around the Earth, but he was still declared the loser. Do you know why?”

“Why was he the loser?”

“He lost because Ganesh had slowly moved around both of his parents. They were his universe.”

King moved around Y/N in a circle, his eyes never leaving their’s. At first, Y/N had no idea what the bounty hunter was doing, but then it all clicked together. King smiled upon seeing that Y/N had figured out the connection. He stepped towards them and took their hands in his. “Y/N, you are my universe. The moon of my life. My sun and my stars. I know you deserve better than an old man like me, but I can’t deny my feelings for you any longer.”

Y/N for the first time that evening smiled with joy. “Oh please, old man or not you are still the kindest person I have ever met. I’m sorry that I didn’t see it before.”

“What do you say we make up for the lost time then?”

Y/N answered by leaning up to kiss King. The two embraced each other under the moonlight that shone through the breaking grey clouds overhead. King’s beard scratched lightly on Y/N’s cheek, and they giggled at the feeling. However, their kiss was interrupted by the sounds of gunfire. The two turned and ran in the direction of the sound.

The gunfire had come from inside of the bar, the same one Y/N had been in hours before. In the middle stood Django, and at his feet was the person that had caused Y/N so much pain. “It’s alright folks,” Django started, “My friends and I have come to collect the bounty on this man. Here are the papers to prove it.” Django pulled a yellowed sheet from his pocket and slammed it on the mahogany bar.

Y/N still stared in shock at the body. King recognized the look on their face, and he leaned closer towards them. “This is the person that hurt you, no?”

Y/N shook their head. “Yes, and hopefully where they are going they will suffer more pain than I did.”

King laughed at Y/N’s remark. “I think you are right about that, my dear Y/N. Karma works in wonderous ways.”

Y/N grinned at their new lover. “I couldn’t agree more.”

[crash-cinematic-universe]

Beauty Lies in the Pockets of a Silver Jacket

pairing: peter maximoff/fem!reader

summary/request:  Hey love! So first of all, the Kit fluff that you wrote, I absolutely adored! I was wondering if you could write a Peter Maximoff fluff x reader where either he finds you wearing his Pink Floyd shirt or dyed your hair silver because you “thought his style was cool” or something like that? If not it’s okay 🖤 (PS: I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH 🖤)  *AND* Okay but I also came up with another idea for peter x reader and I hope that’s okay, but what if, your watching a scary movie and you jump into his arms and can hear his heart beating abnormally fast or something like that? Sorry I’m just in a Maximoff fluff kinda mood. 🥺�� - @lokiqueenofasgard

warnings: smut, mostly. peter is kinda submissive

notes: ahah, 2k words. also two fics out in one day? i am. doin great

___

            ‘Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder’ is a phrase that any mildly insecure person has heard at least once before, although the true meaning behind it has been lost. It no longer means ‘beauty doesn't exist on its own but is created by observers’, instead being used to say ‘there has to be *someone* out there who thinks you’re beautiful’. Peter Maximoff has heard this phrase more times than he can count from almost any man or woman he’s come into contact with; he usually hears this after his romantic advances are rejected on the grounds of his physical appearance and sense of style. That is, every man or woman  except you. That’s because, in your eyes, Peter Django Maximoff is the hottest motherfucker on Earth. 

          Everything about Peter is attractive, at least in your eyes. His style, his personality, his physical appearance and the way he carries himself-- it’s all incredibly appealing. Peter doesn’t know you think that, however, and if he did he would most likely wholeheartedly disagree. That’s why you’ve devised a master plan; Halloween is coming up, and you decided to go as your silver companion. Then he would see that he was, in fact, very beautiful. You’d also get to embody the signature look that Peter had created for himself. It was a win-win.

            You collected the whole get up: you stole his Pink Floyd shirt, managed to find some worn-down jeans in the back of your closet, and you nabbed Peter’s goggles while he was out for a run. However, acquiring Peter’s signature silver jacket has proved to be much harder than you originally anticipated. No matter how hard you try, you can never sneak off with his jacket. He’s always wearing it, and during the rare occurrences he isn’t wearing it you never find an opportunity to grab it. Halloween was less than a week away, and without that damn jacket, you couldn’t be Peter. You had one last real chance to nab Peter’s jacket; your weekly movie night.

          Unfortunately for you, the movie Peter had selected Poltergeist; the thriller film is one of Peter’s favorites, almost guaranteeing that he would remain awake for the duration of it. If he never fell asleep, you’d have to get the jacket off of him in a different way. To make matters worse, Poltergeist scares the living shit out of you. With Halloween only two days away, your window of opportunity is closing. However, you convince yourself that another chance will present itself-- you might as well enjoy the movie, right?

          When you showed up at the Maximoff household, your mind was elsewhere. With every passing moment you looked for an opportunity to take his jacket. However, you quickly gave up once the movie began, deciding to snuggle up next to Peter in an attempt to soothe your anxiety.

          Then, as if the director was trying to give you a heart attack, someone jumps at the camera, a loud noise echoing through the room. Your muscles tense, your fight or flight triggering as you scramble into Peter’s arms. You fall into Peter’s lap, quickly gripping his shoulders and hiding your face in his neck. He laughs nervously, wrapping his arms haphazardly around you. Your ear is pressed to his skin, and there’s only one sound that you can focus on. Peter’s sporadic, rapidly beating heart. You look up at Peter’s flushed face, an odd expression of panic written all over his features. 

          You quickly pull back, shifting in Peter’s lap in order to get a better read of his features. His lip is caught between his teeth, this eyes darting away from yours. He’s rigid and tense and it looks almost as if he’s in pain.

          “What’s wrong, Maximoff?” You question, leaning forward a bit where you sat. Peter’s muscles tensed as he sucked in a harsh breath.

          “Uh, n-nothing, don’t worry about it.” He assured, his face conveying the complete opposite. He’s deliberately avoiding your eyes, but eventually you catch his gaze with your own.

          His pupils are blown to the point where the inky blackness was almost completely covering his brown irises, an underlying lust behind his corneas. It doesn’t take long for you to realize that all your movement in Peter’s lap managed to get him aroused. Peter’s cheeks burn a scarlet red, his arms coming up to hide his flustered face.

          “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to--” His voice is a rushed whimper, embarrassment evident in his words. You reach up and grab his arms, pulling them down from his face revealing his watery eyes and fearful gaze. 

          “Peter,” You leant down closer to his face, his breath hitching. You speak softly, raising your hands to brush Peter’s face gently. “I’m not angry.”

          “Y-You’re not?”

          “No, I’m not.” You smirk before shifting again in Peter’s lap, this time turning your body so that your chest is pressed against his. You intentionally grind down on his crotch causing Peter to bite down on his lip, hard. Your voice is lowered to a purr as you continue. “In fact, I think it’s kinda hot.”

          Peter's eyes widen slightly, but he shows no signs of discomfort or disinterest. In fact, his hips jerk forward at your statement. He reaches up and pulls your lips to his. The tension in the room quickly switches to need as the kiss grows more heated, Peter's hands gripping your hips as he runs his tongue along your bottom lip. You gasp slightly at the sensation and Peter takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your hands move from his shoulders to his hair, your long fingers tangling in the silver strands. This isn’t exactly how you pictured the night going, but hey, you weren’t exactly complaining. 

          Peter melted like putty in your hands, with every jerk of your hips he fell deeper and deeper in a submissive state that he didn’t realize he possessed. He was on top of the world when he was settled below you, his raging boner aching in his tight jeans as he craved some form of relief. Your hands fell from his hair before slipping into his metallic jacket, quickly pushing the material off Peter’s shoulders and onto the floor. Surprisingly, the jacket didn’t cross your mind as your hands wandered under Peter’s worn-down AC/DC t-shirt. 

          Peter hesitantly pulls away from you, separating your lips with a dark blush on his face. The second Peter seemed unsure you stopped your movements, instead opting to make sure he was okay.

          “Are you okay, Peter? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or pushed too hard--” Peter is quick to cut you off.

          “N-No, it wasn’t that. I, uh, I just don’t want you to be… disappointed.” Peter’s face darkened a bit as he glanced down at his twiddling fingers.

          “Disappointed? Why would I be disappointed?” You reassuringly ran your fingers over Peter’s knuckles. He whimpered a bit at your touch and it you realized Peter was still painfully hard.

          “I’m not very… extraordinary under my clothes.” Peter says quietly, his insecurities soon becoming relevant. “I’m not particularly attractive, but I guess you already know that.” You frowned. Did Peter truly believe he wasn’t attractive? Did he really think his physical appearance would drive you away?

          “Peter, can I tell you a secret?” You ask, and Peter looks confused but slowly nods his head. “I think you’re the most attractive man I have ever seen. In fact, I think you’re so extraordinary that I decided to be you for Halloween.”

          “Me?” Peter asked in disbelief.

          “You.” You slowly crawl back into Peter’s lap, checking periodically to ensure that he wasn’t uncomfortable with your actions. He leaned into your touch, a breathy whimper escaping his throat. “Peter, will you let me show you how beautiful you are?” he nods eagerly before you reconnect your lips. Your hands absentmindedly caress Peter’s skin, your fingers toying with the hem of his t-shirt. You pull away from just a moment in order to pull Peter from the couch to his bed, quickly finding yourself on top of him again. You made the decision to take your shirt off before Peter’s, pulling the fabric over your head and exposing your body to Peter. 

          “Holy shit, you’re ethereal,” Peter marveled before running his hands over your skin. The throbbing between his legs became almost painful, and he began pleading before he truly processed what he was doing.

          “P-Please Y/n, t-touch me-- fuck-- please.” Peter practically sobbed as you hastily removed his shirt and unbuttoned his jeans. You slipped your hand into Peter’s pants as you sucked dark hickies onto his collar, his hips bucking into your touch. You pull away, earning a groan from Peter until he realizes that you were unclasping your bra, letting the fabric fall from your shoulders. The air is hot and heavy, arousal and raw need hanging in the room as you guide Peter’s hands to your chest. He fondles your breasts, watching has you grind against his thigh as you do so. 

          You hastily pull off his jeans before beginning to palm his erection through his boxers, Peter’s appreciative moans filling the room with every stroke of your hand. Peter flipped you over, now hovering above you before he pressed wet kisses on your jaw. The sudden dominance was surprising but not unwelcome, the dull ache between your legs amplified by his behavior. His lips trailed down to your chest before Peter bit gently on your nipple, pinching the other with his free hand. The mixture of pain and pleasure shooting throughout your body. You couldn’t help but let a few moans leave your lips, spurring Peter on. He soon found himself between your thighs, pulling your jeans off as fast as possible. He delves into your heat, two of his slender fingers burying themselves inside of you as he wraps his lips around your clit.

          “Oh-- fuck, P-Peter, j-just like that,” You stuttered. He waited for a moment, listening to your whimpers and mewls before he began to vibrate his fingers and tongue, smirking as you released a borderline pornographic moan. You tangled your fingers in his hair, your thighs wrapped around his head as he licked repetitive stripes through your wetness. It wasn’t much longer before your grip on his hair tightened, finally reaching your climax and releasing onto Peter’s fingers. He lapped up your juices, the taste lingering on his tongue as he pulled away. 

          By the time Peter reconnected your lips you found yourself straddling his hips once again, tugging down his boxers. You were quick to line Peter up with your entrance, the reality of the situation setting in as you lowered yourself onto his dick. The two of you moaned in sync, the feeling of Peter’s throbbing cock buried inside of you making your eyes roll back in your head. You soon began to move, finding you rhythm as you ran your hands over Peter’s body.

          “Holy shit, Peter, you f-feel so good,” You sped up a bit, and Peter began thrusting his hips with the rhythm of your movements. Peter begins to hit spots so deep inside you, you didn’t know they existed; Peter’s tip hit your cervix repeatedly. You threw your head back, burying your nails into Peter’s chest. 

          “Fuck, you’re t-tight, so fuckin’ good,” Peter moaned as he pounded into you from below. The blissed-out man began to vibrate his dick inside of you, and you practically screamed as you came around him, hard. You clenched around him so tightly that he was almost forced out of you, your spasms milking him of his own orgasm as he coated your walls with ropes of his hot cum. You weakly pulled yourself off of him, collapsing beside Peter on his bed. 

          “Well, uh… I didn’t expect that.” You laugh weakly, your chest heaving. Peter smiles before wrapping his arms around your waist. He’s hot like a space heater, warmth radiating off of him like a bonfire. 

          “Unexpected doesn’t mean bad, right?” Peter asks, an underlying worry in his voice. You kissed him on the tip of his nose making his face scrunch up. Your pointer finger absentmindedly traced his features.

          “No, not bad at all.” Peter sighs in relief, settling his head in the crook of your neck. After a few minutes of quiet chatter, Peter’s eyes flutter shut and he pulls you close, drifting off to sleep. It’s not long before you drift off as well, the silver jacket you wanted so desperately lying forgotten on the floor.

[deepdonutkid]

Modern head canon part 3

Shelby-Family and music

Arthur

He listens to classic rock like cream and Derek and the dominos. The clash, the Beatles, Queen, the doors… stuff like that, but different to his brother John, he doesn’t keep a lot of records around and doesn’t go to concerts anymore. Also he is not interested in finding new music, but he listens to the radio in the car, because it’s just easier this way. And while he is working on a car, there better be music blasting all over the garage.

Song to represent him: Born under a bad sign- Cream

John

Cus we’re at it!  Like mention before, he owns a huge collection of CDs and Vinyls. John loves concerts and goes to at least one per month. It is probably more. In his free time he wears band shirts. Suits are cool, but not very comfortable. And he would let his girlfriend wear his shirts, because they look super-hot on her. Especially, if the shirt is the only thing she is wearing.

In his apartment there is an expensive sound system, which he can also console from his phone, but no one but him is allowed to touch it. And you can look at the records, but you have to put them back in place, because he likes to have a special order with his collection. Nobody understands that order. Also worth mentioning, John knows bands nobody else knows and he could talk hours about that topic only. His family is already annoyed by him and won’t even ask a music question while he is in the room.

(I have a playlist of songs; I think that suits him just right, but enough said about my little guilty pleasure. So sorry about the list, I couldn’t decide on one song only. If someone is acutally interested or just liked the songs I picked… there are more where that is coming from)

Song:

Little Monster- Royal Blood

Night People- You Me At Six

Just to Get Your High- Arcades and Lions

Do You Want to- Franz Ferdinand

Gang Control- Leftöver Crack

Too Drunk to Fuck- Dead Kennedys

Finn

Sweet, little Finn likes to emulate his brothers. So he is trying to listen to all the old stuff his brothers like. Huge Queen Fan, but he also likes so much more music. Finn has a little thing for minimal and well, he doesn’t fixate on just one genre- but he hides that from John, because John is so picky about music. The smolest Shelby brother also likes going to clubs and dancing there, with the b-boyz and the b-girls. Isaiah is always with him and they keep each other’s back.

Finn is chill and he clearly gives of the “indie-vibe”. I’m thinking of Hozier and Milky Chance.

Song: The Game- Milky Chance |Wasteland, Baby- Hozier

Tommy

(I thought about that so fricking long. What kind of music would Tommy hear? A friend said something like, he don’t like music at all, but I think that’s not possible as music is available nowadays and all around us and it’s human to like melodies and the rhythm)

Tommy is the guy who would prefer silence, especially when he needs to think, but of course, when there is nothing on his mind and he has some free time with his family or friends, music is okay.

He likes romani music as this reminds him of his mother, which was a beautiful singer and would sing whenever she felt the need to. This music also reminds him of his childhood. Tommy is very reflected on that part. He knows when his parents failed and weren’t the best parents. He is still bitter about his father and wished that his mother hadn’t died, but he also remembers how much fun he had with is siblings or his parents, when they had a good day. Sometimes he likes to think about that time of life. And the music brings back the memories. Then he even likes to dance- with the right woman of course.

Besides that he likes instrumental music, like tango music or classical pieces, because there are no distracting vocals.

Song: Barcelona Gipsy Klezmer Orchestra - Djelem Djelem

And I’ll add a song with I associate with him: Bad things – Jace Everett | Bad news- Melody Gardot

Polly

Jazz, definitely Jazz here. To specify… Swing, Gypsy Jazz like Django Reinhard-Style, Bebob and some Gospel, which is not Jazz, but just leave it here.

She can also dance to that and if she’s getting an invitation to a concert she is most likely to say yes. Polly likes to show of her skills and the most guys are pretty impressed by that and her stunning confidence. When she enters the dance floor, the heads turn around.

Aberama likes to dance with her until they fight for air. Then they drop dead on a chair and drink some more.

And she taught Michael to dance, so he doesn’t have to sit around at parties. Actually she taught them all, but it didn’t work with Arthur and John.

Song: Whatever Lola wants- Sarah Vaughan | No Man’s prize – Melody Gardot

Michael

He can dance so well. Some might think he is even better than his mum. While he was in custody with the other family he had dancing classes and he’d loved it. Mainly because there he could meet pretty girls and he was one of the only boys. Until this day he still likes to dance with a girl, but he can also do it solo.

But his taste in music goes far beyond the music his mother likes. He has a thing for hard tech, hard bass, gabba, French core and general techno, but not house. And yes, he learned jump style or hakken, because he liked the challenge. Finn films him sometimes while doing that. He is proud and would totally argue with John about music. Michael also likes some rap and the artist The Weeknd. His music always makes me think of Michael

Song: It’s called XCT –Dr. Peacock |Often- The Weeknd

Ada

She isn’t so fussy about music. If she likes something, she likes it. As easy as that. She doesn’t like to stick to a genre and listens to everything that is shown to her. Her playlist look like pure chaos because there is pop mixed with rock mixed with jazz mixed with metal mixed something else.

And she likes to play music all the time, because she is not comfortable with dead silence. So her music plays while she is working, while she is baking, while she goes for a walk or grocery shopping. She dances a little, but isn’t so confident as Michael or Polly. Ada is somehow pretty up to date when it comes to music. She always knows the latest song of her favorite artists.

Song: Prisoner- Miley Cyrus ft. Dua Lipa |Back to Black - Amy Winehouse

__________________

Am I missing someone? Should I add a character?

[kitkatd7]

Little Green Dress

Summary: Loki sees you wearing his signature color at one of Tony's parties.

I'm gonna be honest the original point of this story was for the main focus to be on the dress and turn to smut but my mind went a different direction so I'm sorry!

Loki x Reader

Warnings: None? Idk maybe a curse word or 2

Word Count: 2,419

Masterlist

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

Walking through the mall with Natasha and Wanda, you scan the store windows for the perfect dress. You had been searching for hours but hadn’t found the perfect one for Tony’s party.

The girls already had theirs, Wanda’s was a gorgeous strapless floor-length gown in navy blue.

And Nat’s a black, high-low hem style dress, and an open back beside the two flimsy straps that cross.

But you hadn’t found what you were looking for yet. You knew exactly what you wanted, but it seemed no one had it.

Walking a few paces behind your best friends, you stop momentarily to examine a champagne dress with sequins parading down the skirt, turning away from it and seeing Wanda waving frantically at you from a few shops down. Walking over to where she is standing, you ask, “Okay Wan, what’s so importa-” cutting off as you gasp in surprise.

This, this was the dress. It was absolutely perfect. The three of you rushed into the store, looking around for an employee or manager. Locating the manager, you asked her if you could try on the dress, to which she kindly obliged as you were “Those famous Avengers” in her words. After acquiring the dress, you bustle towards the dressing rooms with your friends close behind.

Walking out of the stall you stop and pose with one hand on your hip in front of the girls, giving it an experimental twirl while looking in the mirror.

“So, whatcha think?” you ask, looking down at the beautiful dark green dress that swirled around your ankles. to say it was breath-taking would be an understatement. It had a slit that came halfway up your thigh and an intricate gold pattern around the waist, an open back and a low neckline.

“I think, someone wants to impress a certain tall, dark and brooding Asgardian prince.” Nat states matter-of-factly while smirking at you.

“Wha-what?” you splutter while blushing, “That's preposterous! i just like the color is all...”

“Oh, so is that why we spent the last 5 hours looking for a dress that specifically HAD to be dark green with gold?” Wanda questioned you, a similar smirk on her face and her eyes glittering with amusement. “I suppose it's just a coincidence that those happen to be Loki’s signature color, hmm?” she continues teasing you while you blush an even darker shade of red.

“Okay so fine! I wanted to impress him just a little, what’s wrong with that?” you tell them, exasperated. “Oh, nothing’s wrong with that Sugar, we just want you to be honest with yourself.” Nat jumps in again, still playing the know-it-all role. “Well can we go now? I’m hungry.” you plead, throwing a pout in their direction while walking towards the dressing room to change again.

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

Sitting on the countertop of your bathroom vanity, you try to stay still as Natasha applies your glittering gold eyeshadow and black eyeliner effortlessly. She always did your eye makeup as you were terrible at doing it yourself. But in return you did her hair, that was your forte. “So, what do you want me to do with your hair tonight?” you question while hoping down from your perch.

“Surprise me.” She turns to sit with her back to you as Wanda walks in; dress on, makeup done... and hair in a frenzy. “Y/N! You have to fix this!” She screeches, gesturing towards her head while her hair flew every which way.

“Okay, okay! I can fix it, just calm down.” you tell her, trying to keep her from panicking. “I can’t calm down! This is a disaster! Vision is waiting for me downstairs and he said he has a surprise and I was supposed to be down there 10 minutes ago, and I'm late and can't fix this!” she continues, looking almost in tears at her dilemma. “Wanda Django Maximoff! Sit down and calm down before I have to pin you to the floor with my bare hands!” you half-shout at her. She stills and then sits next to Nat, calming down slightly at the use of her full name and threat, even though you both know you would never really do that to her.

“Now let me fix it.” you say, moving to stand behind her. taking out several types of brushes you tame her wild strands, then quickly add several braids before looping them into a delicate bun at the base of her head. “Okay now shoo! You don’t want to be later than necessary.” you say, laughing and ushering her towards the door. “Thank you, Babe! I’ll see you later!” she yells over her shoulder while practically running down the hallway.

Chuckling to yourself, you walk back into the bathroom and do Natasha’s hair, adding several roses throughout the thick braid that cascaded down the side of her head.

Swiftly pulling your own hair back out of your face, you twist it this way and that until it’s all in a perfect little bunch at the base of your skull, pulling out a few strands here and there to frame your face and giving it an effortless look. All while chatting away with your best friend about anything and everything.

Finally putting on your dress, you pick up your phone to find a new message.

Wan: Where are you? Someone is waiting for you

Rolling your eyes, you type out a response.

You: Be there in a minute, just adding some finishing touches.

Walking back into the bathroom, you stand next to Nat as she finishes her makeup. You start applying another layer of light pink lipstick when your phone buzzes.

Wan: You better hurry, this is the 9th time he has checked his watch in the last 3 minutes.

Opting to not answer, you shove your phone into the hidden pocket of your dress before heading downstairs with Nat.

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

Checking his watch again, Loki lets out an exasperated breath. Women. Why must they always take so long to get ready?

Glancing towards the door for the umpteenth time in the past hour, he sees Natasha walk in, but no sign of Y/N.

You stop and take a moment to admire him before approaching. Wearing a jet-black suit and gold watch (which he seemed to be constantly checking) he looked gorgeous. His hair slicked back neatly, accenting his sharp cheekbones and jawline.

Checking his watch once more, he’s startled when he hears a familiar voice.

“Were you looking for someone?” you ask with a dazzling smile.

Letting his gaze rake down and then up your being, he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “You look- wow.” was all he could manage.

“That bad huh?” you joke, letting out a gentle laugh.

“No, i mean...you look absolutely radiant.” he assures you, offering a slow smile while his gaze trails slowly across you once more. As if realizing the impropriety, he quickly averts his eyes. Clearing his throat, he briskly walks away in a flurry, muttering something about getting you both drinks.

Turning around, you notice Wanda who had been watching the whole exchange and was now smiling at you with a knowing look. Giving her a playful eye roll, you turn back to see Loki approaching, champagne flutes in hand and a smile gracing his features. His eyes sparkling in such a way that they matched the bubbling drinks he was holding.

“Here’s your drink.” he says, your fingertips brushing his as you except the fizzing liquid.

“Thank you.”

“You look positively lovely tonight, Lady Y/N!” Thor boomed as he came up and wrapped you in a bear hug, practically suffocating you in the process. “Thank you, Thor! Just um, maybe not so tight?” you laugh, returning the hug and looking helplessly over his shoulder at Loki who’s regarding his brother with quiet indifference.

Next came Sam, “Don’t you look dashing!” he exclaims, giving you a quick peck on the cheek and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Thank you! all three of you look charming as well!” you compliment. They did look stunning, but Loki more so.

How dare he? How dare he touch her like that? So casually, with his arm encircling her waist. All Loki wanted to do at that moment was rip the insufferable man’s hands off of his girl... His girl. Were you his? He didn’t know, but he desperately wanted you to be. With these thoughts on replay on his mind, he stalked away, disappearing into the throng of people, leaving you confused and slightly hurt.

Wanda had watched Loki march away from you, his shoulders squared and jaw set, eyes glittering with rage.

Following him to the bar, she sat beside him on a barstool as he orders scotch on the rocks. Great, now he was drinking.

“You need to tell her how you feel, I see the way you look at her.” she states.

“Hmph, and why should I do that? so I can be rejected and humiliated?” he growls into his glass. “You know I can see her emotions and thoughts, right?” she says, causing his eyes to jump from the glass to hers, looking somewhere between hope and fear.

“Well how does she feel about me then?” he demands angrily, tracing the rim of his glass with his fingertip.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” she snaps, “You’ve wasted the past 6 months burying your feelings for her, when you could have just told her how you felt, but no. Mr. above all mortals, you brushed her off whenever she attempted to be friendly or flirt and involve you in group activities!” Wanda raved, fed up with the cold shoulder routine he had been using for the past half year. “how dare you-” Loki began, looking slightly furious and baffled at her outbreak.

“No! I am not done speaking! Now shut up and listen, she commanded before continuing. “you kept her at arm's length. And do you have any idea how long we searched for that damn dress? 5 hours. 5 grueling hours, searching every store in the city. She wanted to impress you, and then you stalk off over nothing! For your information, you have no reason to be jealous of Sam,the have been best friends since she moved to the tower. She even set him up with her friend for goodness sake! And he has been dating Sharon ever since. Now man- or god up, or whatever it is and fix the fact that you just walked out on her.” she finished, ordered a drink and walked away, leaving Loki at the bar conflicted with his choice he had to make.

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

Shortly Sam disappeared to get a drink of his own, while Thor continued to entertain you with stories of his and Loki's childhood. As Thor continues, he receives a glare from Loki who had just reappeared at your side as Thor launched into the story.

“And there was the time when we created Get Help!” Thor tells you, laughing at the memory. Still glaring, Loki asks, “Brother, don’t you have somewhere else to act stupid?”

Pausing in his story, Thor gives his brother a thoughtful look, as if seriously considering the question before answering, “not at the moment, no.”

As if she knew what you needed, Wanda came over and dragged Thor away under the pretense of buying him a drink, even though drinks were free. But Thor didn’t need to know that.

Glancing over, you see Loki staring across the dance floor, but his gaze is unfocused, distracted. Reaching out you rest your hand on Loki's forearm to get his attention. His eyes jump back to you, mumbling an apology he drops his gaze, suddenly finding his shoes very interesting.

“Are you going to ask me to dance or what?” you ask, somewhere between a huff of annoyance and a laugh, causing his gaze to snap back to you, and giving you a mute nod. Grasping his hand, you pull him towards the dance floor, drawing him closer so that your arms loop around his neck as his hands settle on your waist.

You dance together like that for a few moments, no words between you, just dancing and enjoying the company. Looking up into his blue eyes, you finally ask the question that’s been pressing you. “why did you get so jealous of Sammy?”

Huffing as if the question is beneath him, he looks away slightly, not answering your question. When you continue to stare, he finally gives in. “I wasn’t jealous.” He scoffs lightly as if to prove his point, even though he was blatantly lying.

“Loki…please don’t lie to me, I hate being lied to.” at this he stiffens slightly against you.

“I just-” he sighs, stopping short to collect his thoughts. Running your fingers through the curls at the base of his neck, you wait for him to continue. He shivers at the movements of your hands, closing his eyes and soaking in the feeling. What he would give to have you do that under different circumstances.

“Here, let me show something.” he breathes out, grabbing your hand and pulling you onto an outdoor balcony, turning so he’s facing you.

“Loki-” you begin before he grabs your hips and pulls you towards him, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle but searing kiss. You burry your hands into his hair, pulling him closer to you and pressing your lips more firmly against his. Pulling back, he rests his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that all night.” he breathes into the space between you, cheeks slightly flushed.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I met you.” you whisper back. You stay there a few moments, your hands still tangled in the raven curls. “We should go back to the party soon,” you say reluctantly.

“In a moment, darling. For now, I just want to enjoy this moment,” he tells you seriously.

“And what moment is that, Loki?”

Taking a deep breath, he murmurs, “the moment I realized I was in love.” looking into his eyes, you realize he’s serious. Crashing your lips against his again you kiss him fervently as his hand comes up to cup your jaw. Pulling back, you slide your thumb along his lower lip, murmuring, “I love you too.”

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

Authors Note: I'm sorry I don't know what I was thinking with this story! Thank you for reading!

Permanent Tag List: @lovesmesomehiddles @saiyanprincessswanie

[whaleofatjme1920]

Honest to god we need the first django x reader thingie, and im pretty sure when requests are open im speed running headcanons

Unapologetic

[Agent Django Bridge X GN!Reader]

[Warnings: like, none?]

[AN: you made me fall in love with another man, sigh. Sorry for the blurry pic, this is from his personnel file. So uh—]

He’s only pseudo dating you, and the both of you know that. It’s this odd claim that the two of you have over each other. You’re technically able to go out and see other people, but if someone visibly is flirted with in front of the other, it brings out this green monster of jealousy.

Agent Django Bridge, a sweetheart hidden behind a gruff, almost stucco like exterior. He’s so calm and cool under pressure, but the laugh he has sounds like honey dripping into warm tea on a cool summer evening. Django’s voice is so sweet and low, as he hails from southern Tennessee. His smile is like rain on a hot day. He’s a favorite of the Foundation, meaning he’s exhausted. But oh goodness how he lights up when he finally sees you.

And that’s the thing, you feel like you’re lucky. Lucky that you have him if even for a moment, lucky that he even looks your way. So many people have tried, and you’re the only one who has succeeded.

Cold reality hits you when you remember that it’s just pseudo, only semi. He’s yours, but not quite. You wonder if he’s scared of the commitment, and when you think of that, you remember that it’s not entirely your fault. He’s just scared, scared that something will happen to either him or you because working for the Foundation is a risk whether you realize it or not, whether you’re at the desk or in the field, it’s dangerous. The Foundation is dangerous.

Still, like a moth to moonlight, Django can’t help but adore you, even if he can’t outright say it or even admit it. When he kisses you or holds you, it’s in private, far, far away from the prying eyes of everyone, as if your relationship is to be hidden away. Soft, subtle glances in the halls when he’s at your site, fleeting touches, it’s all so hidden. He hides you from the world, and in a way, from himself. He’d almost be content to keep you hidden, but things change.

Like this last operation, for instance. Nothing like a little brush with death for Django to completely change his stance on how deeply and how ardently he wishes to love you. How loud he wishes to be with his affections.

He walks back to the site you work at with a slight coolness in his gaze, heart pounding deeply in his chest as he does so. He’s looking for you, his favorite doctor in all of the entire foundation.

“Sir? You need to sign in-”

“I work here,” he says sharply in that sweet southern accent, honey colored eyes flashing a warning for a moment before flicking down to his chest where his ID sticks to his chest. That’s all that needs to be shown, his steps powerful as he walks down the halls to your sector of the building.

You, on the other hand, are just coming out of the world’s most boring meeting. What a mess that was. You yawn slightly, rubbing at your eyes as you hold onto your coffee mug, wondering if you should get a refill or not. The thought rumbles around in your head for a moment or so before you decide that yes, you should get a refill. Your steps are almost ghostlike as you listen to the chatter of other doctors floor out from the meeting room, Bright hissing at Clef to stop messing around and Gears asking to get a move on.

You fail to notice the footsteps on the floor that are quickly approaching you.

“Well, if it isn’t the finest ten I see,” he calls out, eyes softening at the mere sight of you.

You raise a brow, unsure if you heard that correctly and from that voice. You whip around, heart melting at the mere sight of him. “You’re back early,” you breathe out, fighting the urge to run up to and hug him.

Django grins, irises still softening as he approaches you. “I am,” he chuckles, holding his arms out to you.

You squeak as he takes those last few steps, capturing you in his strong arms, his tall form draping over you and practically swallowing you whole. Is he really doing this? Showing you off in front of everyone as he twirls you in the hall, not even caring that you’ve dropped your thermos - it clatters loudly on the floor earning many disapproving grunts from Kondraki, Bright and Gears - to wrap your arms around him, clutching at him like he’s the only thing grounding you. “What’s gotten into you?” You ask with a small giggle, face burning into his shoulder as he slowly brings you back down.

Django hums, his lips at the crown of your head. “It’s a lot,” he says softly. “Just know that I l-”

“Get it!” Clef obnoxiously shouts from down the hall, a large grin on his face as he pumps his fist into the air.

“Oh my- leave them alone you harpy,” Rights hisses, tugging the blond haired man by his forearm down one of the other halls.

You giggle quietly into Django’s chest, bashfully hiding your face as he holds you, one of his hands gently holding the back of your head. “Should we get out of their way?” You ask, a playful ring dripping off your words.

Django shakes his head, swaying you in his arms before he looks over and sticks his tongue out Clef and now Bright who are making obnoxious motions. “Let ‘em, I just wanna hold you,” he murmurs as he presses soft kisses to the crown of your head, unapologetic in how much he loves you and wants to show it.