#HE'S HARDY AS HELL

[needsmorewlw]

OK BUT Dylan has insane constitution. Not only does it canonically take him like a full two hours longer to turn than anyone else but he doesn't black out or lose consciousness once when he loses his hand.

"oh it was the shock" That doesn't explain why it takes him so long to get infected. Ya know what does? His endurance being off the fucking charts. He's got so much willpower and physical resilience the infection literally couldn't take over any faster than the slow-ass speed it did.

If he were a fighting-videogame character he'd be one of the tanks with 600 more HP than any other character. He's a full on defensive tank which makes sense since he's jumping in front of people like a meat shield.

If he was a D&D character he'd have +5 Constitution and goddamn natural poison resistance.

I just know it takes him like eight shots of vodka to even feel a buzz, and if he stopped there, he wouldn't even be hungover in the morning. This man is HARDY.

He can canonically, get his hand sawn or blown off, and then stands up after it. He may not have much offensive output but this man could take a beating, he would not go down fast.

And all of this is made 1000x funnier since he moves his body like an elongated Muppet. He WILL hide behind you even though an injury would hurt him way less than it would hurt you. Goofy-ass wiggly bitch could drink you under the table and he has the audacity to say shit like "I'm squishy".

Maybe on the outside but not on the inside. 🤌🤌🤌

[itsshawtyfellas]

I'm still not over how fucking hot Ben looked as Roger Taylor in borhap.

[ltwilliammowett]

“Thank God I Have Done My Duty” Lord Admiral Nelson felled at Trafalgar, 1805, by Rus Kramer (1960-)

[bubblegumlefty]

I have no clue why, but as I'm finishing up this week's edition of Dynamite, this guy is just manifesting in my mind like a goddamn parasite right now... pretty sure my fixation has become unhealthy at this point. 🤤

[tomhardysurinal]

[banannabethchase]

Okay serious question: is Hangman Adam Page physically, intellectually, emotionally, functionally, cognitively, and/or spiritually capable of a feud that isn't so drenched in homoeroticism that Freddy Mercury and Elton John would be impressed by it?

[imoldgreggory]

[milimeters-morales]

Peter B: whatever advice you’re giving her is blowing up in my face quite literally stop fucking including me in your pep talks or whatever

Felicia: just say you hate women and go

Felicia internally: miles what the fuck are you doing!!!

[ratskool]

When u find out that ur first heart horse is dying slowly and the title track to The Fragile comes in handy when the lyrics scream “I WONT LET YOU FALL APART”, ya know?

[sebsbarnes]

too sweet || tangerine

tangerine x reader

summary: tangerine is strong and bitter, much like a neat whiskey but you were sweet, like an aged wine, and he wasn't use to that.

warnings: none

word count: 1.2k+

a/n: requested by @whimsical-roasting inspired by lyrics from hozier's new song too sweet :)

masterlist

tangerine was harsh, uninviting. rigid and stern. he wasn't one to make small talk with the store clerk or mutter a hello to the person walking past him on the street. that was him, and he was unapologetically himself. he didn't care nor did he want to be that person who was over-joyous to strangers, it didn't entice him. what would he gain from exposing pieces of himself? he becomes vulnerable and that wasn't a word tangerine would ever describe himself as.

you were warm, inviting. gentle and kind. you were one to chat with the store clerk and greet the person walking past on the street. that was you, unapologetically yourself. you wanted to be that person who engaged with strangers whenever possible. you would gain so much from sharing and exchanging pieces of yourself with others. you felt secure.

tangerine faults himself for breaking that day he met you. he often wonders why his eyes cast a glance at you, but they did and that simple movement upturned his life.

it was a long day, a day from hell, actually. tangerine was exhausted from work and found himself dragging his feet home. his head screamed in pain, his throat felt tight from dehydration, and his stomach was practically eating itself. the flickering neon light of the convenience store caught his attention and the metal bell announced his arrival in the store. he wandered to the drink cooler and stuffed his arms with anything that sounded appealing. tangerine wanted a real dinner but unfortunately that night the snack aisle would be a five-star meal.

"you can never go wrong with these," a voice spoke and tangerine saw a pointing hand come into his field of vision. he mumbled under his breath some sort of 'thank you' and grabbed the bag of crackers.

that's when he looked over. that's when he saw you. that's when tangerine's normal hard exterior soon chiseled away in your presence. he felt his shoulders relax and he stopped gritting his teeth when you looked back at him and smiled.

"if you want something more hardy they got killer snacks up at the register. i'll admit i'm almost a regular here because of them. it's a bit embarrassing but the workers are really cool," tangerine stood there and listened to you talk. he liked the way your lips pulled up into a smile and how animated your face became. perhaps it was the pure exhaustion from the day that wore him down and made him engage in a conversation with you, or maybe it was just your warm presence.

it wasn't long after that night in the convenience store that tangerine ran into you again. he didn't see you at first but rather heard you. your booming voice and infectious laugh carried its way over to him. he was on a walk, an exercise he enjoyed, when the breeze carried you to him. he paused on the sidewalk and in some measly attempt to stall, tangerine re-stretched his legs until you came closer.

'hey! i remember you, how were those snacks?"

tangerine pretended to be caught off guard at first before responding, "pretty fuckin' good, i can't lie."

"told you!" you laughed with a wave goodbye.

tangerine found himself cemented to the sidewalk watching the back of your head disappear into the day, your arms flailing as you spoke to the friend beside you, and your voice slowly drifting away.

this would keep happening, tangerine running into you in public every few days in different places. it confused him a bit, to the point he almost considered that you were some spy out to get him and his arm would subconsciously drift to the knife in his pocket. each time he would stop himself when you began to talk about the most mundane things and share little anecdotes about yourself with him, like how last night you burnt your dinner and ate a whole bag of wonton strips you found in the back of your pantry from a recipe you cooked a year ago or how earlier that day you stepped in dog poop and didn't realize until you tracked it into the store. tangerine loved hearing you overshare and how kind you treated him even when he was a stranger.

in the months to come you and tangerine turned these random run-ins into deliberate meetings. at the park, at the movies, at a restaurant, at his home. you would notice the glances from people when tangerine stood beside you or the raised brow when tangerine was short with conversation while you talked the person's ear off.

"i know i'm not the friendliest but at least i don't grimace in people's faces," tangerine chided.

you tsked, running a hand up and down his bicep, "oh tang, don't mind them. they just don't know you like i do."

but he did start to mind how others perceived him after the two of you started dating. most people knew how outgoing and sweet you were, but tangerine didn't want to taint the image of you with him by your side. he didn't want people to start believing you were also this cold, stern, person. you couldn't even be if you tried. not only this but he felt guilty hiding his job from you. had you been aware you wouldn't be with him. each day you prioritized the happiness of others and never acted with malice, he was the stark contrast. he hated how he was beginning to love the sweetness.

it was late, 3am to be exact, and the two of you were lying in bed. your legs wrapped around tangerine and his head propped up on the satin. the tv cast a glow onto the bed, the array of colors illuminating your skin. it was an action movie. fast-paced, big cars, bad people, and drugs. your hand was placed on tangerine's cheek, the small digit of your thumb caressing the empty space below his eye. a gun sounded and your body jolted, eyebrows pulled together at the sight of the body falling to the ground.

"that's so scary. i can't believe there are people out there who want to hurt others," you sighed.

tangerine stiffened. he could hear the beat of his heart drumming in his ears and the way his hands became clammy. he watched as the main character aimed his gun at another person and pulled the trigger with no hesitation. that was him. he was watching himself and without you even knowing, you were also watching him. who he really was.

"why's your heart beating so fast. you a lil scaredy cat hm?" you joked rubbing your palm on his chest.

tangerine stifled a fake laugh, "just gettin' nervous for him," he winced at how pitiful his excuse was but you didn't seem to catch on.

he felt sick. you were too sweet for him, like grapes at the bottom of a barrel, aging into a sweet wine. he was foul-mouthed, hot-headed, impolite, and dangerous. he wasn't meant for you, didn't deserve you. he only ever knew the bold and strong taste of a black coffee or a neat whiskey. he wasn't used to the sweet flavor.

[damnelva]

☆°•LUCIFER/PREGNANT!READER•°☆

You're married btw

You're taller than Lucifer

☆ He thought that the day you both got married was the happiest in his life. But he was wrong

☆ You were sitting on your bed, while Lucifer was standing in front of you. The duck he was so excited to show you now fell out of his hand. His face showed pure shock and disbelief

☆ "Wait, you are.. pregnant? Like, pregnant pregnant?? And from ME!??! I'M GOING TO BE A DAD!???"

☆ He laughed, jumped and cried at the same time. He run into your arms, hugging you and sobbing

☆ He got another chance to be a dad and this time he wouldn't fuck it up

☆ Oh lord, since that day, you didn't practically nothing. Lucifer did it for you. You just had to sit your beautiful ass down and be healthy for the child and yourself

☆ Lucifer couldn't be happier, no matter the time or circumstances. Nothing, absolutely NOTHING could wash away the stupidly cute smile on his face. Just the thought of being a father of two made him fall in love with you over again and even harder

☆ And the way he loved seeing you pregnant.. For him, you looked beautiful as ever before. Not like he didn't thought of you as the most gorgeous woman that has been ever created, but while caring his child.. HIS CHILD!!! It's just different kind of beauty

☆ Oh, also Charlie. She was as excited as her father. Vaggie hardy calmed her down. She never really thought of having a sibling, but now she realizes how much she wanted one. She already brought a lot baby clothes, even though it was incredibly hard to find some in hell.

☆ Lucifer will hug your belly every chance he gets (which is kind easy considering the hight difference between you two). Sometimes he will feel the child's little kicks."Luci, are you crying?" "No.." *Sobs quitly*

☆°• •°☆

☆ "Why can't I chose the child's name??" "Cause we can't call them Apple pie!" "WHY NOT!?"

☆ "I already bought clothes for our little angel!" "It's all about ducks.." "Exactly, it's gender neutral"

☆ *Cries cause of mood-swings* "Why are you crying..?" "Because you're crying!"

[xmalereader]

Miguel O’Hara X Black Cat! Male Reader

-

|| Masterlist ||

-

Authors Note: Took some inspiration from Felicia Hardy and Selene Kyle, let’s be honest Selene is my mother and will let her whip me whenever she wants 😌, so why not make this shot full of sass and perhaps some slight sexual tension? Also all Spanish words are correct, I am fluent in Spanish and Latino myself!

Summary: Every universe had a black cat, weather it ends in a good or bad outcome every Spider-Man had at least experienced being around a black cat. Miguel had his own variant back at his universe, but his story with black cat is interesting.

Warnings: ATSV Slight Spoilers! Some angst, mentions of time travel, breaking and entering, kissing, language, Miguel is tired, mentions of past divorce, mentions of Gabrielle, timeline, loop holes, miles wants to be adopted, reader is trying to bring hell, reader is protective of Miles, breaking the rules, toxic Miguel, Toxic reader, a negative plus a negative is a positive.

Word count: 4.1K

— || Part Two || Part Three ||

—

Noir didn’t know why he enjoyed watching the kid mess up, but it brought some joy into his daily task. Here he is standing on the edge of a roof top, staring down at the city’s number one hero trying to get himself untangled from his own webs. Both he and the little spider in red and black were chasing each other throughout the entire city, nearing midnight he was caught by the cities hero stealing a very valuable gem that was worth thousands, good enough for Noir to steal. How could he not? Now, after hours of chasing here he stands, head tilted in disappointment as he watches the little spider trying to escape his own webs after a malfunction in his own creation.

“Now this goes—wait, no…”

Noir tilts his head back, signing deeply to himself as he tucks the gems into his pocket before jumping down from the building and landing in front of the kid. He was a thief, not some cruel person who’s going to leave this poor kid stuck. “Kid—“

“I got it! I got it! Just have to—AH!”

The kid only get himself tangled into the web even more, causing the thief to roll his eyes, using his own claws to cut thought the webbing like it was nothing. The little spider looks around in surprise and smiles under his mask. “Hey, that worked!”

“Indeed it did.” Noir mocks him back, rolling his eyes from underneath his goggles.

“Now, I’m turning you in—!”

Noir holds his hand up to cut the kid off, pinching the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh. “Kid, we’ve done this too many times. We all know that you’ll never be able to get me so just let it go and go after someone who is actually causing harm.” He give the kid a pointed look before using his grappling hook to get back to the roof top and continue his way back home. Only for the kid to follow after him, he expects himself to get into a fight with the kid again, knowing that he would win the fight and end things quickly.

“Wait! Look, I get that what you’re doing isn’t entirely dangerous nor are you harming anyone but, why do it? Why steal when you can just get a job?”

Noir’s eyes widen and bursts out laughing, shaking his head as the kid stares back confused. “Get a job? Kid, I did have a job but, no matter where I worked it was never enough to survive. Not everyone has an easy life and if you have to take some risks then take it. You can try and stop me all you want, kid. But, it won’t make things better.”

The kid stays silent, taking in his words as Noir brushed past him and makes his way towards the other side of the roof.

“Wait!”

Noir sighs, hand on his hip and looks over his shoulder to see the kid standing his distance. “I’ll stop coming after you.”

That causes him to raise a brow, confused and surprised by the kids sudden words, before he could ask why the kid speaks up. “If you teach me how to fight.”

Of course.

That’s how the two have been getting along after a year of teaching the kid how to defend himself, he was new to the whole hero thing and Noir was the only one who was able to teach him a thing or two. It was rare for him to connect with people who weren’t trying to kill him or let alone take him to prison for stealing something valuable of theirs.

Currently both of the two are sitting on top of a clock tower, the kid eating some pizza while Noir sips his morning coffee, watching the sunrise after spending all night training the kid on how to land his punches. “Isn’t it too early for you to be eating that stuff?” He mumbled out, getting the kids attention who turns to him with a stuffed mouth full of pizza.

“…no?”

Noir chuckles at the kid. “Don’t come to me if you start getting heartburn.” He mumbled around his coffee cup before taking another sip, focusing on the view ahead. The two spend most mornings like this, eating ‘breakfast’ together and enjoying each others company. The kid had stopped trying to get him arrested and each time Noir was caught stealing he always made it out without an issue.

He’s known the kid for a year now and he’s grown onto him. The last time he was around someone he cared about he ended up losing everything and always pushed people away from getting too close, but the kid always found his way back into his life. Noir breaths softly, glancing at the kid who had just finished his box of pizza and closed the lid while whipping the grease from his fingers onto his suit, causing the older man to grimace at his manners.

“All done, so what’s the training today?” The kids voice is full of enthusiasm which causes Noir to chuckle. “No more training.” He sets his coffee cup to the side and stands from sitting on the edge of the clock tower, towering over the kid who tilts his head back, staring at his second mentor. “You’re ready to do things on your own and I am done here.”

“Wait what?” The kid tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean your done here? Are you leaving?”

Noir placed a gentle hand on the kids shoulder. “You’ll do fine on your own, I taught you nearly everything I know. I’m clearly not needed anymore and I have business to attend somewhere else.” Noir was reaching a deadline with his stay here with the kid and had to move onto his next task, wanting to avoid bringing the kid anymore trouble that he’s already dealing with alone in this city.

The little spider before him doesn’t know how to react to this situation, clearly not happy with the outcome but knowing that he can’t do anything about it. “Will you be back?” He asks.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Noir shrugs his shoulders, sighing deeply to himself. “I don’t know…” He really didn’t, one moment he’s here and the next he’s gone. That was his plan and always has been.

Noir can see how bummed out the kid is and can’t help but, pull the kid into a gentle hug. “I’m ever around I’ll make sure to meet you. Perhaps during one of our usual chases.” He gets the kid to chuckle at his humor before the two pull apart. He’s staring at the kid with a sad smile, with a clawed index finger he bops the kid on the nose or where he thinks his nose is at due to him wearing the mask.

“Take care of yourself kid.”

“I’m not a kid…”

Noir chuckled. “You’ll always be a kid.” He picks up his empty coffee cup, making his way over to the ledge of the clock tower, facing his back towards the kid before looking over his shoulder to give the kid one last advice. “Don’t let anyone tell you what you can’t do, remember that.”

With that he jumps off the tower, leaving the kid on his own to continue on his own path.

Noir already planned to leave this place and couldn’t delay it any longer before he finds him. Upon arriving to his apartment, he slips through the window undetected from the neighbors and slips off his tinted goggles along with his gloves, letting out a deep exhale as he looks around the semi empty apartment that he was only planning to use for a short period of time.

He toss the gloves to the side and keeps the rest of his uniform on as he works around the apartment, collecting certain things to take with him while the other stuff he stuffed inside a trash bag, clearly not needing that stuff any longer and tossing it out the window, where it landed down below and into the dumpster.

Once the apartment is fully empty he reaches inside the bag he was planning on taking with him, unzipping the front pocket and pulling out a silver bracelet. He stares at the blank screen, knowing that once he turns it on he will be traced, only giving him a few minutes to plan his escape. He zips up his bag and slips on his goggles again along with his gloves, slipping the bracelet over his wrist and with his index finger he taps on the blank screen, watching it turn on, activating.

“Five minutes.” He whispers to himself as he quickly types in Earth-42502, watching as a portal opens before him.

Adjusting his goggles, he takes a step forward only to freeze in place when another portal opens behind him. “The hell?” He looks over his shoulder, eyes widening under the goggles as a flash of red and blue zips towards him. He doesn’t have time to think as a hand wraps around his throat, knocking him back into the other earth.

The two are free falling through the air, grunting as his hand finds the others wrist and glares. He’s quick to use his strength, kicking him off as they continue to fall. “That was faster than usual.” He calls out, getting the other spiders attention who glared under his mask.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive to Earth-42502, portal opening onto the roof top of Oscorp Tower. Noir lands gracefully, but is quick to jump out of the way when the other spider lands where he once stood.

“Here I thought I’d never find you.”

Noir remembers that voice too well, remembering the days that the two would wake up next to each other.

“Seems like your desperate to find me.” Noir speaks up, taking cautious steps back as his eyes follow Miguels large figure. The man showed off his talons, taking dangerous steps forward as if stalking his prey.

“Let me guess, you were waiting until I activated this little guy, huh?” He raised his left arm to show off the bracelet he wore. The same bracelet that once belonged to Miguel and that he was able to snatch from during the time he was running away from Miguel. “Lyla’s not good at tracking.” He adds with a grin on his face.

“At least she found you before you can even open a portal to this earth. An earth that you don’t belong too.” Miguels voice is full of irritation, tired of having to chance Noir from different universes each time he disappeared off the radar.

“I know where I belong.”

Noirs voice drops down to a serious one, glaring under his own goggles as he takes steps back, slowly stepping on top of the ledge. “I’m not going back to that place, not after what you did.” He spits out.

“I was only trying to fix things.” Miguel sneers.

“By destroying a universe for our daughter? A daughter that wasn’t ours.”

“She was!”

“She belonged to another version of us and not us.” He points between himself and Miguel. The two have been chasing each other since day one, Miguels cannon affected him badly, causing him to lose his own child. Miguel had tried to find ways to fix it by going to other universe in hopes of getting their lives back together again only to mess things up badly and to cause a whole universe to be destroy. Their constant arguing grew worse as the days went on the two couldn’t be in a room together without trying to tear each other apart, leading to a divorce between the two. Well, a divorce wasn't really an option due to their universe being gone and instead was considered a break up between the two without having to sign he paper work.

In the public’s eye they were seen as married still. For them, they were separated.

Noir didn’t start stealing until after he stole Miguel’s bracelet, finding a way to stop Lyla from tracking him down and using it to escape from the man he loved. Giving himself a new life, stealing from every universe and only causing trouble for Miguel due to the constant anamolies being placed in the wrong universe, only giving the man extra work on getting it fixed.

You could say that it was Noirs way of showing revenge for all of the times Miguel blamed him for trying. Earning himself a reputation and treating it like a game.

“Y/n—“

“I don’t have time for you, right now.” Y/n hissed out, turning around and jumping off the building, getting Miguel to panic all of sudden and run after him, jumping off and diving down to wrap his arm around Y/n’s waist and using his talons to grip onto the side of the building also using his webs to hold on.

“What—?”

“I’m not letting you go that easy.” Said Miguel, grinning under his mask as Y/n’s eyes widen at the realization.”Don’t you dare!” Y/n uses his own claws in a threatening way only for Miguel to ignore his threatens, getting Lyla to open a portal back to their earth and quickly dropping his (ex) husband down the portal. Only for Y/n to land inside Miguels little anomaly prison as one of his traps is set around him, caging him inside a tight space as he tried to use his claws to claws his way through.

It wasn’t until Miguel drops down in front of him. The two could easily be face to face if it wasn’t for the barrier stopping them. “You’ll stay here until everything is fixed and then you can scream and yell all you want.” Said Miguel a hand on his own hip as his mask dissolves away, showing his real face to Y/n who frowned. “You can keep me here all you want, but I will always find a way out.” He was testing him.

This wouldn’t be the first time that he was trapped under Miguels watch, he’s escaped plenty of times before and he will do it again.

Miguel chuckled deeply. “Oh, mi amor. This time it’s different, because I’m going to make sure that I have a close eye on you twenty-four seven.” He looks over his shoulder to nod at one of the spiders from his society who turns around to type away on their computer. All of sudden Y/n is transformed to Miguels lab, appearing in the room in a flash as he yelps in surprise.

“Jesus…” He breaths out in surprise a hand over his beating heart as he falls back onto his bottom. “A heads up would have been nice.”

“Stop being annoying and be quiet.” Said Miguel, circling him like prey and focusing back on his work. Y/n grins, reaching up to push his goggles up and over his head. “Listen, cabeza de mierda. You brought me here in order to keep an eye on me, but never did you say that I couldn’t annoy you.”

“I—“

“So, I won’t stop talking your ass off until you let me go.”

Miguel stares down at his husband, knowing the man well enough to know that he was keeping that promise. The taller spider sighs in annoyance, already regretting his choice as Y/n grins at him and leans back against his elbows and crossing his leg over the other, lying down as he groans out loudly.

“Who would have thought, the two of us together again. After a year? Damn, it’s already been a year, I remember you slamming into a wall when chasing me through Earth-6574. God, the anger in your eyes was so satisfying!”

Miguel tried to focus on his work, ignoring the mans words as he continues on, rambling on about anything that will annoy Miguel until the man gives in.

The conversation went for hours, with Y/n changing positions every few minutes, one minute he’s lying down and the next he’s sitting. Another time he’s doing a handstand in the small space he’s trapped in or using his claws to try and penetrate the force field around him only to fail. He didn’t stop until he suddenly grew bored, lips sealed as Miguel finally takes in the peaceful silence, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

“There it is.”

Miguel snaps his head towards Y/n, already knowing his plan.

“Enjoyed your five seconds of peace and quiet? Because, I was just getting started.”

Miguel wants to shout, opening his mouth to throw back an insult only for him to be disturbed by the sound of people entering his lab, getting his attention. Y/n also looks over to the group of teens approaching them, one specific teen getting the thief’s attention as he narrows his eyes, focusing on the curly hair and dark skin until his eyes widen in realization.

“Miles?”

Even though he’s only known the kid for a year and had trained him on the side, he knew who the kid was under the mask, but never said anything. Not wanting to freak the kid out. Whenever the kid wasn’t hiding behind the mask, Y/n would keep a close eye on the kid, making sure that he was focusing on school and attending his family diners and parties, somehow feeling responsible for the kids disappearance each time he skipped classes or lunch only to meet up with enthusiasm, excited to learn something new from the thief that the teen befriend somehow.

It didn’t take long for the platform to lower, reaching the ground and getting the teens attention. Before Miles could introduce himself or hand Miguel the empanada that he had in hand. The kids eyes fall onto Y/n, narrowing his eyes a bit. “Noir?”

This gets everyone’s attention, including Miguel who snaps his head in Y/n’s direction with a knowing glare that he knew too well.

“Hey kiddo!” Noir waves at Miles with a wide grin on his face, side eyeing Miguel as he feels his burning glare. Miles doesn’t think twice to quickly rush over and jump onto the platform, worry in his eyes as he ignores Miguel’s surprised look along with Gwen’s panicked looked and Hobie’s grin. The teenager was too focused on Noir to care about what the others were thinking about his actions, his palms against the force field that separated the two as he tries to find a way to get him out. “Why are you here? How are you here?” Miles began to ask as Y/n looked at Miles with a fond look and faint smile.

“Easy kid, I’m alright.” He tries to reassure the kid.

“Get him out.” Miles blurts out, turning to Miguel with a frown on his face. The sudden demand shocks the others, but not Y/n who can only smirk over Miles shoulder and towards Miguel who frowned deeply. “I’d listen to the kid.” He whispers, loud enough for his ex to hear.

Miguel grunts in disapproval and had no choice but to do as told as gets red of the red field around him, finally setting him free as Y/n stands from his spot, stretching his arms in the air like a cat and getting caught by surprise when Miles hugs the other man. “Whoa! Easy kid, I’m alright.” He reassured him, giving his back a soft pat.

His actions don’t go unnoticed as Miguel watched the two interact with each other, clearly reading the signs that Y/n had claimed this kid as his own, treating him with care and respect, knowing that if he comes between the two, Y/n wouldn’t hesitate to fight back like a feral cat. It’s happened before and it won’t stop him from doing it again.

“You said you had to leave.” Miles speaks up, getting Y/n attention who sighs deeply. “About that…” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck nervously and giving Miles an awkward smile.

“Noir isn’t from your universe, he belongs in mine. He was caught breaking the rules and had no choice but to bring him here. He’s a slippery one and likes to get away, so letting him out of his cage wasn’t a good idea.” Said Miguel, getting an eye roll from Y/n and placing his hand on his hip. “Don’t be so dramatic, I’ve gotten away from it many times and you didn’t seem to mind.” Y/n said back, making his way around the platform and taking in Miguels work.

He takes notice of the videos and pictures of them both together along with this their daughter, causing a small sad sigh to escape his lips knowing that Miguel hasn’t gotten over the death of their daughter. Y/n was the only one who was able to move on from everything but Miguel, he couldn’t blame him. Everyone coped different with death and took their own pace in recovery. With a clawed finger he turns the pictures off, glancing over to Miguel who was watching him this whole time with a sorrowful look on his face.

Y/n quickly turns away, refusing to look at the man he once loved.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Gwen points between Y/n and Miguel, approaching the duo that stood before her, getting Y/n to smirk widely. “Actually were married.” He quotes out, getting a surprise look from both Gwen and Miles. “Divorced.” Miguel added, hands on his hips as Y/n pouts at his words.

“Divorced? Really, you two would look cool together.” Said Miles. “Adopt me?”

Y/n breaks out in laughter, throwing his head back as he laughs at Miles words. He jumps offer the platform and takes miles into his arms, pulling the kid close to him and squeezing him tight. “How did my ward become so adorable? If I could adopt you then I would!”

“Wait, your ward?” Miguel asks, clearly not likening this.

“Yep!”

“He’s taught me a thing or two.” Said Miles and with a proud smile on this face he extends his hand, opening his palm to show Noir the hard-drive that he stole from Miguel, getting a very proud Y/n to hug him again. “My child is learning!” He cheers in excitement while Miguel growls. “No, no, I refuse to let you take in a spider. You are enough trouble, let alone having a kid do it too?”

“If it wasn’t for me the kid wouldn’t have gotten better on his skills. I taught him how to defend himself and perhaps get away with a thing or two…” Even though Miles was suppose to be his universe hero and protector, he couldn’t help but, teach the kid a thing or two when it comes towards breaking and entering. Teaching Miles how to sneak back inside his room or dorm without being noticed and to pick on locks in case of emergencies.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, mumbling to himself in disappointment. “No puedo mas, no puedo mas.”

Y/n rolled his eyes. “So dramatic.” He mumbled as he listens to Miguel ramble on while Miles is being saluted by Hobie, admiring the kids new skills form a very well known thief in many universes.

“Did you know that he stole this guitar for me?” Said Hobie, pointing over his shoulder where his guitar was strapped over his shoulder. “Mad genius.”

Miles laughs. “I don’t like stealing, but Noir once helped me with getting my mom a present for Mother’s Day. He stole a necklace for me, nothing too expensive but also nice.” Said the teen. Clearly he was nervous and ashamed for it when he first got handed the jewel from the known thief only for the anxiety and worry to fade away when he say how happy his mother was about the gift.

His father questioned him and all Miles told his dad was that he worked hard for it.

Noir smiles at the two before looking over to Miguel who stared with disappointment, but Y/n didn’t seem to care one bit wanting the teen to enjoy his life and he wouldn't mind breaking a few rules in order to give the kid what he wanted. Even if it meant bumping into his husband ever once an awhile.

[dylaissante]

“Bob scared the hell out of me. He was so skinny he looked like he was about to die. And the concert was a disaster."

-Françoise Hardy

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 29

Part 1 Part 28

“I’m going,” Eddie asserts.

“This isn’t up for debate, kid,” Hopper sighs.

“You’re right because I’m going!”

Eddie’s shouting at the chief of police and can’t be bothered to care. All he can think about is Supergirl shouting Steve’s name with desperation. Steve curled into a ball in his closet; the place he’d dragged Eddie on instinct. The place he’d gone to keep himself safe.

Hopper glares at him before clearly giving him up as a lost cause and turning his glare on Wayne.

Wayne holds up his hands, palms out, saying, “don’t look at me. That boy’s been obstinate since the day he was born. If he’s set on going, I’m gonna go with him.”

Wayne pats the shotgun slung over his shoulder as if to remind himself it’s there. Eddie blows out his breath, shoulders slumping in relief. He is not in this alone.

“Wonder where he got that from,” Hopper mutters, turning and stalking over to where Joyce is standing beside Will. “Stay and watch the kids.” He says it like an order, ignoring Joyce’s exasperated expression as he heads toward the exit. No wonder the guy’s single.

Wayne and Eddie share a glance before following in his wake.

He looks back once, to where the kids are still seated on the bleachers to get one last look at Will. The fishhook in his sternum is pulling him in two directions, like a medieval torture device. But Will nods, so he goes even as it hurts.

Eddie grumbles half-heartedly as he levers himself into the back of Hopper’s police truck, Wayne and Hopper settling much more comfortably in the front seats.

“This brings back memories,” Eddie says, looking fondly down at the black burn on Hopper’s upholstery where Eddie had put out his cigarette as a pissed off fourteen-year-old.

“Shut the hell up,” Hopper replies while Wayne just laughs.

It’s a short drive, the way anything in a small town takes about ten minutes to get to. Hopper cuts the headlights early, slows his truck to a crawl to keep from veering off the dark road. Eddie’s knee is jumping up and down with the need to move.

When they stop, it’s not at a building or a gate, or anywhere much at all. Hopper pulls his truck off the road, half-hardy putting it in park behind a grove of trees. Eddie resists the urge to shake Wayne’s seat back and forth like an unruly child when the man takes his time to get his old bones out of the car and set Eddie free.

Hopper fishes a pair of bolt cutters out of the back and leads them into the forest. It’s dark. A normal, dark forest, with the right kind of shadows and the right kind of wildlife. It should feel like relief. It doesn’t. It doesn’t take long to come to a nondescript bit of chain-link fence.

It becomes clear what the bolt cutters are for quickly.

“This is your plan?” Eddie asks, incredulous. “A little B & E?”

“It worked last time, didn’t it?” Hopper asks, not looking over at him, concentrating on snipping away the fence and entirely missing the point.

“Did it?” Wayne asks.

Hopper lets out a quiet, “mmhmm,” as he finishes cutting away enough of the fence for them to slip though. “Come on, trust me.” He slips through the hole, shirt getting briefly snagged before pulling free.

Eddie follows immediately, Wayne following behind with his usual quiet grumbling about being too old for this.

They start walking, nothing to differentiate one side of the fence from the other. Eddie huddles close to Wayne as they walk, feeling the breeze kick up through the same ratty jacket and vest he’s been wearing for almost a week now. He wonders if Steve’s cold, or if he grabbed a blanket before bundling up and waiting for rescue.

The trees have just started thinning when beams of light are suddenly jumping around the forest. For a second, Eddie thinks they’ve already somehow made it into that other place, the Upside-Down, and someone is walking over their graves, but then a voice yells, “freeze!”

Wayne yanks Eddie behind him with the lapel of his vest before raising his hands. Hopper steps in front of them both, raising his hands as well, palms wide and far apart. Eddie knows when to take his cues. He raises his hands.

“Let me do the talking,” Hopper says quietly.

Eddie scoffs. “Yeah, because you’re so charming.”

Hopper’s fingers flex, like he wants to clench them into fists before he thinks better of it. “Trust me,” he hisses.

With no other options, Eddie sighs out a quiet, “fine,” just before his hands are wrenched behind his back and handcuffed.

It’s not a long walk until the building looms in front of them. He’s not sure if it’s the gun pressed into his back, or the tidbits he’d caught about how the super-powered girl came to be, but the building seems to loom over them ominously, more the mouth of a monster than the pulsing red doorway into the Upside-Down ever was.

Eddie doesn’t struggle until Uncle Wayne and Hopper are lead down one hallway while he’s yanked down another by the crook of his arm.

“Let me go,” he snarls, ignoring the gun still aimed at him, and the way the chain digs into his wrist as he struggles. “Uncle Wayne!” He hates the way his voice cracks on the words.

“Hang tight,” Wayne calls. “We’ll be back.”

He says it like he’s in charge of the situation. As if he’s not also handcuffed and being led away at gunpoint. It makes Eddie’s shoulders loosen anyway, panic receding just enough that he lets himself be shoved through a doorway and into a chair, hands uncuffed just long enough to cuff him to the back of the chair instead.

The room is small and sterile – grey walls, grey table, grey chair. Black camera recording him from the corner of the room. Eddie slumps, trying to look glib and uncaring, curling his fingers hard into the chain of his cuffs to stop his fingers from trembling.

Everything just keeps going wrong. He got out of the Upside-Down, but Steve was still stuck there. They get a plan to get him out and are immediately held at gunpoint and shoved into separate pseudo prison cells.

Steve could be dead my now. Will’s out of his sight. And the last he’d seen of Uncle Wayne was him striding down the hallway with a gun to his head.

Eddie takes deep breaths, trying to stay calm. Counting to four breathing in, counting to six breathing out. He loosens his hands, softens his shoulders, softens his brow. Closes his eyes. Breaths. Keeps breathing until the door opens, then closes with a metallic clang.

A nondescript older man with white hair walks into the room. He’s got a dark grey suit on, matching tie, button-down shirt tucked into pants that look like they’ve been ironed. He stands like he’s used to being listened to. Posture as straight as the line of his mouth as he takes a seat on the chair across from Eddie, crossing his legs at the ankle.

“You must be Eddie Munson,” he says, raising his mouth in a smile. It makes Eddie shiver. “I’m delighted to make your acquaintance.”

Eddie doesn’t respond, doesn’t look away from the predator in the room.

“We know you were there,” the man says, crossing his hands atop the table. When Eddie still doesn’t say anything, he continues. “Six.”

The silence grows stilted. Uncomfortable. Eddie’s not sure the other man is even blinking. Or maybe he’s somehow blinking at the exact same time as Eddie?

His throat is dry – it makes an audible clicking nice as he swallows, before finally speaking. “What?”

“Six people have been taken this week. This thing that took you. Took Steve Harrington and Will Byers?” he says, leaning forward in his chair, back still straight as he looms over Eddie. “We don’t really understand tt.”

The last line comes out in a whisper, like he’s an extra in a horror movie, trying to spook the main characters into running away before the final confrontation with a great evil. Eddie’s pretty sure the greatest evil is sitting right in front of him.

“But its behavior is predictable. Like all animals, it eats.”

Eddie is unpleasantly reminded of Nancy’s spiel in the Byers dining room, watching her string together observations like she could wrench the facts out of them. She would make a far more dangerous villain than this schmuck. It makes him sit up straighter, made more confidant by the thought of Nancy Wheeler kicking his ass. Who would’ve thought?

“It will take more children,” the man continues. “I want to save them. I want to save your friend, but I can’t do that. Not without your help.”

Abruptly, Eddie is furious that this man would come in here and try to put this all on him. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks, voice quiet. When the man lifts an eyebrow, he continues, voice growing louder with ever word. “You had a funeral for fucking Will Byers, let Steve Harrington rot in a different world, probably unleashed that fucking thing on Hawkins in the first place, and now you’re asking for my help?”

The man’s face is made of stone. He doesn’t acknowledge Eddie’s comments, just sits there placidly waiting for him to bend. To break. He’s clearly never met a Munson. They don’t fucking bend for anyone. Eddie spits in the man’s face.

He doesn’t react beyond a sedate smile as he gets up and leaves the room without another word, leaving Eddie alone with his spinning thoughts and dry throat.

Part 30

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐆𝐨 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐆𝐨

There had never been a real need for you to visit your local mechanic. Your car was sturdy and stubborn, taking hit, after hit, after hit, and you just rolled with the punches. Until you landed in a tough spot — stuck on the side of the road, conveniently close to Barnes Classics Restoration. 

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✯ Mechanic!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✯ 2.5k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✯ Fluff, flirting to the extreme, Bucky is a show off

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✯ Well, this was self-indulgent to the max, sue me.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ✯ Flower by Moby ✯ Break My Baby by KALEO

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✯ @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟮 — Mechanic AU — Masterlist

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The first splutter and clunk of your engine set you on edge, but with how fast you lost power it was even more concerning – you were stuck, in a car that refused to cooperate for the few blocks it would take to get to the closest mechanic: Barnes Classics Restoration.

“Come on, please,” you begged, clutching the steering wheel like a lifeline. “Just get me there!”

The garage came into view not a moment later, and your car – as ever loyal and hardy as it was, choked and gave up the ghost. “No! God,” you groaned. Your phone came free from the cradle with a pull and you shoved it into your bag. “Just what I needed today, fucking hell.”

Your shoes, a beaten-up pair of Chucks, scuffed the crumbling surface of the road as you walked towards the garage where classic cars were parked on the side of the road – panels and chrome shone under the midday sun and you marvelled at the sight. You weren’t one for cars – having gotten the cheapest and safest option to get you from point A to point B – but the sheer power that seemed to just roll off from the parked vehicles gave you a small pep to your step. 

It was nothing compared to what you felt when you strode up the path towards the open doors of the garage. 

A couple of men were milling about, grease stained but no less attractive. What caught your eye, however, was the broad back of a tall man slumped in the engine bay of a car, his back covered in a red Henley that rippled with every movement of his shoulders. When he moved his arms into the light, you could see the dark intricate tattoos gracing his muscled and veiny forearms, and when his head appeared from the shadows of the popped hood, you couldn’t help the small, quiet gasp that left you. 

The man’s hair was long, almost to his shoulders and he had a scowl etched on his face while he spoke to the blond man next to him. You clutched your bag to your side and took a few steps closer – you needed the help after all, regardless of how drop dead gorgeous or intimidating the man was. 

They paid you no mind as you neared, clearly too engrossed in their conversation to pay attention to a potential customer – you couldn’t tell if you were grateful or disappointed with that fact. 

“Excuse me, I was wondering-” You tried, but stopped when they both looked at you suddenly. The man wearing the red Henley nodded at the blond before gesturing into the garage, and the blond strode off into the garage, tool and rag in hand. 

It was hard to find the words to pinpoint what you were feeling as the full attention of the Adonis- man focused wholly on you. Stormy grey eyes searched your face and he quirked a brow in question. “How can I help you?”

Oh, his voice. You prayed that your thoughts didn’t flicker across your face at the low timbre and downright sinful tone. 

“My car,” you gestured over your shoulder and the man glanced up and nodded once. “It, um–kicked the bucket, you could say, while I was making my way to you. I was headed home but I kind of can’t now. Can you take a look?”

You watched while the man looked over his shoulder, his stance changing from professional and aloof to open, welcoming. It was a relief. “Stevie!”

“Yeah?” A voice called out of the garage, and a mop of blond hair suddenly appeared from under a car. It was the man he was talking to. 

“Watch my shit, I’ll be back.” The man turned back to you and smiled, holding out his hand to shake. “I’m Bucky.” His calluses were rough against your skin and you smiled back, offering your name. 

Bucky gestured towards your car, and you took the lead. “So,” you began, looking over at him, taking just a second to appreciate the way the sun casted its rays down on his brown hair, and the beautiful tattoos that were visible under his rolled-up sleeves. “You’re the owner of the garage?”

“That I am, doll,” Bucky smiled, meeting your gaze. You hastened to look straight ahead; eyes only slightly wide at the endearment. Get it together! “Your car,” Bucky continued, staring ahead with narrowed eyes towards your sorry heap of machinery. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“Uh–I’m not sure, it was fine the other day and then this,” you offered, watching as Bucky came to a stop at the hood and gestured for you to pop it. The sound that it made forced a deep wince to warp your expression. “That was doing that when I bought it.”

Bucky only chuckled while he pushed the hood up and secured it, and you did all you could to not stare at his arms as he did so. Oh, your friend would have your head on a platter if you did nothing, you swore on it. 

The sounds of Bucky tinkering around the engine of your car filled the silence and you watched, entranced with the way he worked his hands and his strength to manipulate the many, many parts you couldn’t even begin to understand. 

It took a second to realise that he had started speaking, because when you looked up, he was staring right at you with a sly smirk. “You alright, sweetheart?”

“Fine,” you squeaked, and Bucky laughed. The bastard, you cursed.

“As I was saying – this should be an easy fix, though it is a lengthy one.” Bucky stood and brushed his hands on his dark jeans. “Do you have a way of getting home?”

“I can get a cab, hang on,” you said, digging in your bag but Bucky held up a hand to stop you, and you froze. 

“Let me take you home,” Bucky said simply, as if there wasn’t a flock of butterflies in your stomach and your mind wasn’t on cloud nine from such a simple offer. “That way while I work on your car, I know you’ll be safe. I can come get you in the morning, too.”

Silence followed his offer while the connection to your brain and mouth caught up, you felt foolish for standing there opening and closing your mouth like a damn fish out of water. Bucky took your silence as rejection, and your heart seized at the small frown on his pretty lips. “You don’t have to, but let me walk you back, you can call a cab from the off-”

“No, no, I-” you interrupted. Your hands were trembling and you willed them to be still. “I would appreciate that, a lot.”

A blinding smile brightened Bucky’s expression and his nose scrunched. You sighed quietly, the sound covered by the creak and groan of the hood slamming down. What had you gotten yourself into?

You couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit giddy on the short walk back to the garage. Bucky, the gentleman, had continued to insist on driving you home so he knew you would be safe – and not only that, he had moved closer to you as you walked, his shoulder brushing yours occasionally while you two shared a comfortable silence. 

“Where do you live, doll?” Bucky asked as he stepped into the office. He pulled down a jacket and a set of nondescript keys. You offered your address and he nodded, gesturing out another door. “C’mon.”

Stevie, the blond from before caught Bucky’s attention and saluted, but Bucky waved him off while rolling his eyes. “Ignore that punk, I do.”

“Is he your friend?” You asked, falling into step beside Bucky while he led you into a small car park – it must have been for the employees only because cars in varying states of restoration filled the spaces. 

“Unfortunately,” Bucky mused, chuckling. He stopped and gestured in front of him and you glanced at the car, then did a double take, your mouth falling wide open in shock. Your reaction must have sparked something because Bucky just grinned widely, a flicker of pride in his bright eyes. 

“This is your car?”

“Yeah, it’s mine,” Bucky answered, and he placed a hand on your lower back to urge you towards the passenger seat. 

You dug your heels in and he turned to look at you, a brow raised while that grin made your heart flutter. “It’s the car from that movie, isn’t it?”

Bucky laughed, and you found you would do anything to hear that sound again. “It isn’t the car, no, but I restored her from the ground up.” You stepped closer and placed your hand over the sloped arch of the fastback Mustang, in awe of the sleek shape and the pepper grey paint, accented by black racing stripes. Bucky brushed past you and opened the passenger door to reveal a neat leather interior. “Hop in, sweetheart. I can take you for a spin before I take you home.”

Starstruck, you walked forward and took Bucky’s offered hand while he winked. “Madame,” he said, his tone low and husky. 

The interior of the car was just as beautiful as the outside – leather and chrome accents shone under the sun and you looked to the shifter, a singular white circle surrounded a red button, the words GO BABY GO etched into the finish, and you grinned. You shuffled in your seat and strapped the harness over your body as the driver’s door opened. “Bucky, this is exactly like Eleanor, I swear.”

“You are seriously one of the few people that have made that connection,” Bucky hummed, shuffling until he was comfortable, and then he strapped himself in. “Makes me all the more happy that I’m taking you home.”

“What?” You floundered, staring at him wide-eyed, your surprise a catalyst to his laughter.

“What?” Bucky repeated, shrugging. “Gotta take a pretty dame home so she’s safe, don’t I?”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, gripping the belts of the harness in shock. He was flirting – Bucky was flirting.

The keys in Bucky’s hand jingled and turned in the ignition, and the Mustang roared to life, the vibrations rattling your bones. “Alright, you ready, sweetheart?”

You stared at Bucky and he just smirked back, completely unabashed. “You are insane,” you pointed out. “You are absolutely insane.”

“Not the worst I’ve been called, doll, c’mon,” Bucky pouted, grabbing the shifter and jostling it. “I wanna take a pretty girl for a spin, you gonna let me?”

Heaven above, you were gonna melt into the leather seat if he kept staring at you like that. “Fuck it, take me for a spin, Bucky.”

“Hell yeah,” Bucky breathed, and he pumped the clutch as he put the Mustang in reverse. The engine purred with the low speed and you watched as Bucky turned the wheel with one hand, and the other shocked the shit out of you by coming to rest on your thigh. A noise of surprise left you and Bucky looked over at you sharply. “Too much?”

A sudden burst of courage flooded you and you shook your head. “Never enough,” you grinned, and Bucky laughed. You watched the garage pass by slowly and the sound of the engine echoed around the small driveway, the rumble and timbre still rattling your bones. 

“Oh, hang on,” Bucky said suddenly, and the Mustang stopped just outside the front roller doors. You watched in the side mirror as Bucky’s employees gathered and pulled out their phones and pointed them towards the car. The opening notes of a song started and you gasped, gripping the belts across your chest. “What?” Bucky grinned, gripping the wheel and your thigh simultaneously. “I have to show off to the classics, don’t I?”

“Oh my god!” You cried, grinning like a fool. 

Bring Sally up, and bring Sally down, lift and squat, gotta tear the ground.

The engine revved, lowered to a purr, revved again, and Bucky put his boot to the floor. The following symphony was priceless; the engine roared like a beast and the back end dipped, and before you knew it, a cloud of smoke engulfed the back of the Mustang. You heard Bucky’s feet on the pedals and the shifter clunking as Bucky tore through the gears, but only barely – blood was pumping through you and muting all sensation except for the exhilarating feeling of losing control. 

Somehow, you had reached the end of the road in the blink of an eye and you gasped for breath, working through the scorching adrenaline in your veins. The engine settled to a low purr once again and you felt Bucky looking at you, his grin manic and bleeding arrogance. “You with me, doll?”

“I’m with you,” you rushed, returning his grin. “Take me home, handsome.” The prideful gleam in Bucky’s eyes gave you no cause to regret the slip of your tongue, and you settled into the seat for the drive home, heart still racing. Words escaped you for the entire drive, but the smile never left your face, nor Bucky’s. 

Before long, Bucky pulled up out the front of your house, and he killed the engine with a happy sigh. “Here we are,” he said, looking at you with such a frightening softness, as though he was already fond of you – like his flirting wasn’t just a game. “Let me walk you in.”

“Okay,” you agreed shakily, and Bucky reached over to unclip your harness before he stood from the car and stretched, groaning as he stretched. Blessedly, his shirt rode up and you caught a peek of the tattoos on his lower stomach.

Taking a deep breath, you walked towards the front door of your home and Bucky followed you, and that giddy feeling returned in earnest. “I had fun, I-” You hesitated, then plunged on. “I don’t know how to thank you, Bucky. I know it was such short notice and-”

“Come get a drink with me,” Bucky interrupted, voice soft but confident. “Whatever it is you drink, and I’ll consider it all repaid,” he said, finishing with a wink. “What d’you say, doll?”

You nodded hastily, not even ashamed of the eagerness. You dug in your bag and pulled out your phone to unlock it before passing it to Bucky. “Here, give me your number, and you can text me in the morning.” 

“Or tonight?” Bucky questioned, taking your phone with a cheeky smirk.

You ignored how your stomach leapt at his words, instead you smirked back. “I dunno, handsome,” you began. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed but his smirk grew, almost predatory. “Alright, sweetheart,” he said, handing back your phone. “I best get back and get back to work if I want to be free tonight, I’ve got a pretty dame to talk to, after all.”

You stood on the step by your front door and watched him walk back to his Mustang, firing it up and blowing you a kiss before he tore down the road, the roar of the engine still audible even a few streets away. Curiosity gripped you like a vice and you unlocked your phone, only for his contact to be the first thing you see. 

Handsome.

“Damn,” you muttered, shaking your head and grinning happily while your fingers hovered over the keyboard to text him. “I’m so doomed.”

And doomed you were.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[nova-amor]

𓈒∘☁︎ ◜ 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 ◞

𝐜𝐰 — 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐫!𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 [𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.], 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥 [𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫], 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 𝟏.𝟖𝐤

"what the fuck was that?" choso hisses through gritted teeth, pinning you to the farthest corner of the bar. his hands are on either side of your head, palms pressed hard to the wooden walls behind you. "what the hell do you think you're doin'?"

you're clutching a brown beer bottle close to your chest, the cool condensation dampening the fabric of the black crop top you're wearing. choso is seething— golden eyes narrowed down at you, cheeks reddened with anger, muscles tensed; he looks like his head is about to implode and you’re loving every second of it. like the good person you are, you fight back a smirk, bucking your hips into choso's front, your legs intertwining with his. and, you’re just loving every second of this moment.

"what?" you tease, your eyes glimmering with a sense of mischief that doesn't go unnoticed by the man. "they play really good music here on the weekends, can't help that i want to dance to it."

"you were dancin', huh? so shaking your ass against a complete stranger in front of me is dancin' to you?" choso is on the verge of exploding, his knuckles growing white beneath the fabric of his motorcycle gloves. 

choso fought to restrain himself from going over and punching the man that you had been entertaining just seconds before, he knew better than to get into a bar fight on his own. even if he knew he could take on multiple men at the same time.

"you like pissin' me off, baby? like makin' me jealous so that i can take my anger out on you later?" choso ranted, his eyes darkening as he lifted his hands off the wall. his strong arms wrapped around your waist, pressing your body tightly to his. you could feel his erection poking at your pelvis, straining against the tight fabric of his black jeans. "do you know how crazy you make me? i hate it when you act like a little slut in public, fuckin' hate it."

you tilt your head back to meet choso's gaze, one of your hands resting at the top of his shoulder blade. the pad of his motorcycle jacket is rough against the soft palm of your hand, well-crafted and hardy material designed to protect him from asphalt burns and other injuries. you loved seeing choso in all of his gear, the full blacked-out outfit making your pussy clench whenever he rode to meet you somewhere.

"we're just friends, choso," you whisper to him, voice heavy with desperation for him to claim you. you two had spent months running circles around one another, unable to put a solid title on the relationship you had regardless of the true feelings you held for one another. "there's no reason for you to be jealous when i'm not your girl."

choso rolls his eyes, pulling away from you like you were acid-burning his skin. he gnaws on his bottom lip, a habit he always did whenever he was deep in thought. and, before you could get a grasp on his actions, choso snatched the bottle of beer from your hand and gulped down the rest of it, tossing it into the bin next to you when he was done.

with a low "we’re leaving", choso snatches your wrist with his large hand, the rough padding of his gloves digging into your bare skin as he drags you out of the bar. the two of you earn confused and irritated gazes as he shoves through the crowd on the dance floor, pushing past everyone with long strides and little regard for those around him.

"choso, what the fuck!" you snap at him as soon as the two of you are out of the door, his hand finally releasing you as he stalks over to his motorcycle. it's an all-black yamaha r7, matching his riding attire with hints of silver along the handles and mirrors. "where the fuck are we going, choso?"

he snaps his head over at you, throwing his long leg over the bike with ease. he's glaring at you, his mouth curved down with a sneer yet he holds his helmet out to you, silently commanding you to get on the bike.

"home," he says, his voice low and gravely. he tilts the bike upright with the support of his strong legs, the motorcycle roaring to life, the smell of its exhaust filling the open air. "you wanna be my girl, right? so get on the fuckin' bike and i'll show you how to be."

without a single moment of hesitation, you throw the helmet on, the foam pads squishing your cheeks. with the help of the footpeg, you climb onto the back of the bike, wrapping your arms tightly around choso's waist like the many times you had done before. his hand pats your interlocked hands as a warning before he revs the bike, peeling away into the night.

"choso," you call out as he strolls into his apartment, the garage door lowering behind you. he completely ignores you, abandoning you in the garage, the door slamming shut behind him. "can you wait for a damn second!"

you hook the helmet onto the footpeg, making sure it’s secure before following after choso. he shrugs off his motorcycle jacket, tossing it onto the kitchen countertop before removing his gloves.

"what the hell is your problem?" you snap at him, crossing your arms over your puffed-out chest. you're beyond frustrated with him and his silence. you wanted to fight him, knock some sense into him with the way he's treating you.

with long strides across the kitchen floor, choso picks you up by your waist, biceps flexing as he easily plops you down to sit on the edge of the kitchen counter. he stands between your legs, glaring down his nose at you.

"you're my fuckin' problem," he growls, dipping his head down to your neck. his kisses are hot, open-mouthed, and wet— sucking and biting at the delicate column of your neck. "talkin' about wanting to be my girl and then slutting yourself out whenever we go out," he sucks at the sensitive point underneath your ear. "you've always been my girl, baby; thought i made that clear when i started bouncin' ya on my cock months ago."

your head rolls back, brows furrowed as you arch your neck further to the side, allowing choso to stake his claim on your skin through bites and hickies. your brain is reduced to mush as he drags the flat of his tongue from the crook of your neck and up to the hinge of your jaw. your fingers lacing themselves into his hair, tugging and pulling at the silky strands, earning a hiss from deep within his throat.

"never gonna share you; no one gets to use you the way i do," choso bites at your neck before pulling away, his black pupils blown out as he peers down at you. his lips are bruised, cheeks flushed from abusing your skin to his liking. you can only imagine the bite marks and bruises that decorate your neck. "no one knows your body like i do; doesn't know how to make you moan, and beg, and turn you into a messy puddle that can barely form a sentence."

your clit throbs against the cloth of your panties, your underwear soaked thoroughly with your arousal. choso never really spoke during sex, rarely spoke in general, yet whenever he did, it was either to say a joke or command authority over your friend group whenever they got a little too rambunctious. the switch in his behavior caught you off-guard, but you weren't one to ever complain. you liked it when he took charge.

"no one knows how much you like it when your nipples are pinched," he tugs your crop top up, prying your breasts from the confines of your bra, spilling them out into his warm hands. he tugs and rolls the sensitive buds between his fingers, a series of moans bubbling from your lips. "such pretty fuckin’ tits, baby, fuckk," he mumbles, admiring the view.

"no one knows how wet you get when i play with them, bitin' and suckin' on them 'til their bruised and puffy," he dips his head down to capture one of your nipples between his teeth, sinking his pearly whites into the soft flesh. a cry rips through you when he pulls at your nipple, harder and harder until he lets go with a ‘pop’. "bet you're fuckin' soaking already, baby. let me pull these jeans down and see,"

you shuffle atop the countertop while choso helps to pull your pants down, the cool surface causing a shiver to run down your spine as your bare ass cheeks make connect with it. 

"i was right, huh? got niagara falls forming in your panties, baby," choso kneels to the ground, inhaling the musky scent of your arousal through the soiled cloth. his nose nudges against your clit, tongue teasing at your entrance, soaking your panties further with his saliva. "no one could make you get this wet but me, ain't that right, baby?"

"yesyesyes—" you're breathless, too far gone to form a proper thought. your hands grip choso's hair, the only support tethering you to the earth. "fuck, cho, please need your mouth— need ya t’ fuck me with your tongue— needs it s’ bad—"

choso chuckles, standing up to press a sloppy kiss to your lips. his tongue invades your mouth, the pink muscle scouring every crevice and cementing his claim all over it. he tugs your panties down to your thighs, rubbing your clit around his index and middle fingers before dipping a single digit into your wet heat. he slips into the tight ring with a grunt, poking and prodding against the tight clench of your walls grasping at his finger.

"so fuckin' tight, lemme hear them pretty moans," he slips another finger deep inside of you, scissoring and hooking them into your gummy walls. "wanna hear how needy you get f'me."

choso strokes at every inch of your cunt, pulling moan and moan out from you with little effort. you're putty in the palm of his hand, allowing him to mold you around to his liking. his nose is pressed to your neck, peppering kisses and bites along the path, drenching your skin with his saliva. 

"remind me who fuckin’ own this pretty pussy, baby," he curls his finger into your spot, your thighs trembling as your walls squeeze harder around him. you could feel peak coming along, so close and just barely out of reach. "tell me what i want to hear and i'll let you cum, can feel your pretty little walls clinging to me— i know you’re fuckin’ close."

your eyes flutter shut, mouth agape as choso’s name leaves your lips like a prayer. "i'm your's, i'm your girl," you moan, choso chuckling at how fucked out you sound, so pathetic and desperate for release. "no one else's, cho, you own this pussy, was made for you and only you."

"that's my good girl," choso purrs, slipping another finger deep inside you. the stretch is sweet, your hips bucking to chase after the sweet release he had promised you. "cum on my fingers, baby, cum for me."

your release hits you like a freight train, gushing all over his hand and pooling on the countertop below you. choso chuckles as your cunt milks his fingers, grasping and clinging to him as your body quivers against him. you swore you caught a glimpse of heaven.

"that’s my good girl," choso retracts his fingers from inside of you, your body feeling so empty with the absence of his touch. he presses his fingertips to your lips, your tongue poking out to lap at his fingers, humming at the taste of yourself. "that's it, baby, be my good girl. clean my fingers up and i'll give ya some cock as a reward, okay?"