#i want to hit you upside the head with a newspaper full of the soft and yearnful poems i write for you until you get it into your thick skul

[trashbaget]

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[heliads]

A Glance Across the Street

Based on this request: “a race oneshot where he realized he’s in love with the reader. she’s doing something (singing, playing with kids, whatever) and he’s awestruck and the boys are teasing him after”

masterlist

Race is mid-conversation with his friends, mid-way through his bag of papers still left unsold. He should be focusing on talking to Albert and Jojo, and he should definitely be trying to get the last few of his papes sold before the night grows too old and he’s out of customers to swindle. He knows all of this, yet his gaze keeps slipping from his fellow newsies or passing bankers to rest on one girl down the block.

Y/N is selling papes too, her grin contagious as she manages to talk even the most persnickety of passersby into purchasing the daily newspaper. Her newsie cap is slightly askew, and Race’s hand twitches by his side as if he longs to fix it, to look down and see her flash him a grateful smile. Honestly, Race is starting to think that he has a problem when it comes to Y/N L/N.

As it turns out, Race is not the only one to notice this: although he attempts to quickly jerk his attention back to the conversation at hand, Albert and Jojo notice the fact that he isn’t quite responding on time and try to figure out what’s got his focus hooked. Albert follows Race’s line of sight and a vicious grin appears on his face. Race tries to look away hurriedly, pretending he was just following the path of a potential customer, but it’s too late- they’ve both seen.

Jojo loops an arm around Race’s shoulders, clasping the other hand firmly over his heart. “Well, if my eyes don’t deceive me, I think Racer here has a little crush.” Race scoffs, pulling away from the boy. “As if. I’m just trying to sell my last papes.” Albert rolls his eyes. “Is that why you haven’t sold one in half an hour? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’se trying to lose money.”

This is a fierce accusation for a newsboy who prides himself on his ability to make any deal to even the most unlikely of customers, and Albert knows it. So, when Race snatches his cap from his mess of blond curls, ready to swat it most brutally into Albert’s head, the red-haired boy is able to easily dart away in time to avoid the killing blow. Race tries one last time, but his attacks fall short when he hears a voice from behind him.

“What’s going on here? Why are you trying to murder Albert?” Race’s eyes widen in spite of himself, and he straightens up hurriedly, slapping his hat back on his head as if he’d just been stretching. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We��re just having a, uh, friendly conversation.” Albert looks positively gleeful over this, but he doesn’t say a word. Y/N raises her eyebrows. “I don’t know about that. I’d swear there was going to be bloodshed.”

Albert may be willing to save him from the fires this once, but Jojo is not so generous. Instead, he casually leans on Y/N’s shoulder, practically savoring the way Race’s shoulders stiffen. Race does his best to ignore this, forcing a casual smile. “Well, maybe Albert deserved it. You know him.” Y/N tilts her head to the side, considering this. “I do know him. What’s he done now?” Albert and Jojo look between Race and Y/N like they’re watching a sports match, curious as to what explanation Race can manage without telling her the true reason for the near beatdown.

Race mentally stumbles for a moment, then comes up with a scrap of something. “He insulted my brand of cigars. I couldn’t have that, could I?” Y/N’s eyes glint with barely contained amusement, and Race thanks everything holy that his excuse held up. “Oh, I get it now. I’m sorry to interrupt the carnage.” Race grabs Y/N’s hand, pulling her away from Albert, Jojo, and their twin mocking expressions to continue walking down the street.

“That’s alright. Now, come on- I think I saw a few tourists. Think we can scam ‘em?” Y/N laughs as she follows him down the block. “Without a doubt. Is that them?” She jerks her chin towards a cluster of families pausing by a florist, all of them in the newest fashions. They practically reek of wealth, which makes them the perfect targets for newsies in desperate need of unloading some papes. Race nods, and Y/N’s grin widens. “Oh, this is going to be fun. Race you there, Racer!”

She takes off down the street, spinning past cobblestones. The sound of her laugh, lighter than a summer breeze, lingers by Race’s side for a moment longer. Although Race knows he should follow her and at least try to sell some of his papes before all of the tourists are gone, he feels stuck in place, unable to do anything except watch her go. There’s a smile tugging at his lips before he realizes it. He tries to stow this a second later, except it’s a little hard to be serious when there’s a girl like Y/N right next to him.

He manages it in the end, as he always seems to do. Race isn’t sure what happened to make him turn into this stumbling mess whenever Y/N’s with him, but the habit keeps seeming to stick. He hasn’t always been like this, it’s only a recent incident, but no matter what he tries Race can’t go back to seeing Y/N as a friend and a friend alone. Sometimes, he wants to knock himself upside the head, hoping that a brief concussion might restore his thoughts, although Race is fairly certain that even this hit might make him even more of a grinning idiot where a certain newsgirl is concerned.

Later that week, Race is hit by that same bout of hopeless staring, although this time it’s even worse than before. It comes over him like a wave, threatening to pull him under entirely. He had been turning the street, walking from one block to another in the hopes of finding some idiot with a purse full of coins who’d be willing to shell out a little more than usual to a newsboy on the street. Maybe this is why his crush hits him so hard- he’d had no time to prepare, nothing to center himself around except this sudden sight of the girl before him.

All of a sudden, there she was, talking to a group of kids she’d met on the street. They stare at her with the same sort of loopy smile Race wears now, like they’d follow her anywhere so long as she gave the word. Honestly, Race may get a little jittery around the Brooklyn boys or the cops when there are too many of them, but the hold Y/N has on him scares him even more than that. He’d do anything she asked of him, no matter what or how. He can’t run from that kind of influence, just go along with it and hope he didn’t get worse.

Y/N crouches down now, the edges of her skirts rustling lightly over the uneven cobblestones. She reaches out a hand to a nearby girl, one who would barely come up to her ribs unless Y/N was kneeling as she is now. The little girl presses a careful coin into the awaiting hand, and Y/N hands her a newspaper in return. Race can see her pointing out the different pictures on the front, explaining them with that same slow voice she gets when the night is late and drowsiness slips through every syllable. This time, though, she’s not tired, just speaking in a way that kids who barely know anything can understand. Maybe that’s all Race is, too, a kid with half a brain and some stupid lovesick gaze he can’t seem to shake.

Y/N stands up, stretching, as the little girl leaves. A few more kids linger by her knees, and she talks to each of them in turn, patience coming eternal even by the point when Race would have started getting a little restless had it been him there instead of her. One of the kids hands her a flower he managed to find from somewhere, and Y/N tucks it behind her ear, smiling as if it’s a jeweled tiara instead of a little sprig of a plant that’s more leaf than petal.

She turns now, as if she can sense someone watching her, and finds Race from where he’s hidden by the crowd. She smiles at him, the simple expression almost enough to knock him over. There’s a soft slight in her face, as if she’s a little self-conscious to be caught talking so eagerly with the kids, but Race could never make fun of her for a second. Instead, he lets his own smile widen in return, and Y/N looks almost relieved. She mouths something about catching up to him in a second, then turns back to the kids when one of them tugs at her hand.

Now that he’s been caught, Race should probably keep moving down the block, at least doing something to keep up the pretense that he’s just selling papes instead of simply staring with that same jump in his heart. However, he can’t quite convince his feet to move, like his body is perfectly fine with just watching her there. It’s just the way the light washes golden over her hair, the sunbeam force of her smile, the twist of her hand and head as she speaks. Race has seen the way the rich neighbours stare at artworks, entranced by mere brushstrokes. If that’s what it looks like to fall in love with a mere painting, then Y/N might be an entire museum full of masterpieces.

That describes it, doesn’t it? He’s in love. Stupidly, crazily, whole-heartedly in love. There’s no way to describe it. Race has had crushes before, on rich girls with silken bows and laughing girls who talk to him as they leave the factories after work. None of those seem even remotely close to the hold Y/N has on him now, like all those kisses and offered flowers were just practice for this.

Maybe he’s too lost in his own thoughts, or the way Y/N seems to call an entire city to her like the star of a show, but Race doesn’t hear Albert and Jojo appearing behind him until it’s too late and they’re already upon him. Albert is crowing at him, face wrought over with victory. “It’s official. You’re completely hopeless for Y/N.” Race moves to deny this, but it’s too late- they have enough evidence to tease him for the rest of his life.

Jojo looks almost incredulous. “Wasn’t it just yesterday that you was telling me about how you’d never spend too much of your time trippin’ over some goil? Look at you now! Albert, he’s practically thinking about marriage.” Albert pretends to be severely affected by this thought. “I can see it in his eyes. He might already be picking out the rings.”

Race rolls his eyes. “I don’t know what you’se talking about. Y/N’s a friend.” Albert and Jojo actually burst out laughing, and Race wants to hit them. “She’s a friend? Race, if you look at your friends like that I’m getting locks on the doors. You’se in love, and it’s hilarious.” Race fishes around for some excuse or retort, finds nothing, and resorts to the time-honored classic of trying to hit them. “Some friends you are. No wonder I like Y/N- she doesn’t do this to me.”

Jojo hoots with laughter. “He admits it! Truth at last!” Albert sighs dramatically. “Did you hear his voice? He’s overcome with emotion.” Race lets scorn drip into his every word. “Overcome with emotion? Where’d you pick that up- off a pape?” Albert scoffs. “No, I read it off the cover of a book in a shop window, like somebody respectable.”

A voice comes from behind them once more, and Race wonders silently why he has to keep finding himself in this exact situation. “Somebody respectable? Albert, no offense, but I have never once seen anyone do that.” Albert’s expression grows worryingly bright, as if he’s just had a terrible idea, and he turns to face a newly arrived Y/N with a grin. “I’d usually argue on that, but I want to make time for someone else. Racer here was just saying something about how he needed to talk to you.”

Jojo’s eyes glint, like he’s caught on to Albert’s plan. “Yeah, actually, he was. Said it was something very important.” Albert nods solemnly. “Very, very important. We’d better leave now, so he can say it.” The two boys exchange looks, then practically jog off, although Jojo makes sure to give Race a very obvious thumbs up before they go. Race is about to seriously consider murder, but then a hand lands on his arm and he’s brought back to reality once more.

Y/N considers him, one eyebrow raised. “Well, I do have to admit that I’m a little worried by how excited they looked about that, but I am a little curious. What do you have to talk about?” Race knows what he should say, what Jojo and Albert no doubt want him to do, but the words stick a little in his throat. He remains silent for a little too long, and Y/N crosses her arms across her chest. “Well? I’m waiting.”

Race searches desperately for something to say, anything, but he has no idea how to start. Y/N’s look of curiosity is starting to bleed away into boredom, and Race is gripped by the sudden terror that she’ll leave before he can say anything at all, despite how terrifying it is to even think about telling her how he feels. So, he leans forward and kisses her before he can talk himself out of anything else.

Now Y/N doesn’t speak, not at all, and Race can’t think about anything except the fact that he might have ruined everything, once and for all. Then her face splits into this incredible grin, and Race feels like the ground has broken up beneath him and he’s falling, falling, until he can’t feel anything at all. “That’s what you wanted to talk about?” Race doesn’t know what to say. Again. “Uh, yes.”

She laughs, and Race thinks that he could have gladly listened to that sound every morning. Let the sound of her laugh replace the church bells, and he would have happily attended every sermon. “You’re an idiot.” Race nods. “Yes.” He’s not sure that he’s supposed to be agreeing to this, but she’s got him caught in her gaze again and he feels as if he can’t move a muscle. “Kiss me again, and I might just forgive you for waiting this long.”

Race grins, his confidence finally starting to return to him again. “Well, I like the sound of that.” He’s not about to refuse her this time, so he reaches forward, gently guiding her face back to his once more. 

[siriuslyshewrote]

Can’t Stop DNA - Part Three

A/N - it’s finally here! Part Three/Finale. Hope you guys like it 🥺. (P.S I know the gif isn’t off Peaky Blinders aha). Let me know in the comments!!

Part One | Part Two

It was only a few hours after your conversation with Isaiah that you had rang Ada, practically wailing down the phone about how you had fucked everything up, and how you need your big sister so much right now. Even though she didn't really know the full extent of what had happened, she had heard about the pregnancy from Polly a few hours before, and knew full well what the atmosphere in the Shelby home would be right now. She was right - it felt like you were in hell, like someone had flipped a switch, turned everything upside down, like you had fallen asleep and awoken in a nightmare world, like you had read about in your dystopian books. She heard the break in your voice, the gasps for breath, and it half broke her heart that you were going through what she had. She couldn't leave you up there, not when she was sure the outcome of it would be frosty silences, or vicious arguments with your brothers, over and over again. And when you had sobbed down the phone how much you wanted this baby - like she had wanted Karl, she invited you (or rather, instructed you) to come down to London, to live with her.

In that moment it felt like Ada had thrown you a lifeline. You barely thought about it, agreeing hurriedly, and throwing things into a suitcase, and making it to the train station within half an hour of the phone call. You only spoke to Polly before you left, and though she didn't say it, you knew from the soft look in her eyes that she knew this was the best thing for you. And that filled your heart with some hope, always having believed in Polly's ability to not see into the future exactly, but to have a sense about these kinds of things. Before you got out the door, she put a wad of money into your hands, and pressed a kiss to your cheek. You tried to turn away before she could see the tears dripping down your cheeks.

Polly watched you walk down the street, head held high, a heavy feeling in her heart, and anger too, her nephews having pushed away yet another of their siblings. She never told you about how they reacted when they got home, nor did she tell about how Isaiah Jesus appeared on her doorstep, knocking frantically, or how his expression faltered when Tommy told him you'd gone away, and when something in the young mans eyes died when he told him he wouldn't tell him where. Tommy thought he was protecting you, and Polly did too.

For a while.

*************************************************The summers heat was almost unbearable, you decided, fanning your face with a half folded over newspaper, staring out the window, at the street below. The Peaky Blinders boys - two of them, stood at the end of the street, looking completely casual, almost blending in, though you knew them well by now - they were two of the lads Tommy had hired to protect Ada and you, and little Karl. You winced again, rubbing at your back, eyes looking at the large baby bump protruding from your stomach. You were eight and a half months pregnant, and it was pure, unadulterated hell, especially in this fucking heat. The 'practice' contractions the doctor told you you would have were a pain in the arse, getting worse and worse, and had been since yesterday evening, some twelve hours ago, though you were far too stubborn to tell your sister about the pain you were in.

"You better not hurt this much when you decide to come, little one." You murmured with a half smile, fingers caressing the space you imagined your baby's head would be. You were sat in Karl's old nursery - soon to be your baby's, looking at the constellations and moons that Ada had painstakingly painted when she moved in.

Losing Isaiah had taken a toll on you - a visible one at that - and it had taken you months to put yourself slowly back together, but it hadn't marred the love you had for this baby inside of you. A girl, Polly had reckoned, when she came to visit a few months ago, though Ada argued with a knowing smile that she thought it was a boy. Either way, you had said with a laugh, you just wanted them here. You couldn't deny that you were lonely. The only people you spoke to nowadays was Ada, and Polly, and Karl, if he counted, though it was doubtful, as the most he could do was gurgle adorable, if incoherent, noises.

“Y/N!” Ada yelled up the stairs, “Polly’s on the phone for you!”

“Coming!” You called back, pushing yourself into a standing position, half waddling towards the staircase, yet another one of those bloody practice contractions hitting you. Except this time, you felt something different. You felt what you were almost sure was your water breaking.

“Ada!” You shrieked ,half hysterical already.

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

"Okay, okay. Polly's gonna be on her way soon, okay?" Ada soothed you, you being now sat on the couch, as you had a mild meltdown, having told her at least ten times already that you didn't think you could do it, and oh fuck I'm going to be a mother. A mother, Ades! I can't do that!

"She's four hours away!" You sobbed. "I can't do it Ades, I can't do it."

"You can." She told you firmly, her eyes locking with yours. "You can okay? I'm right here. I'm not going to leave you."

"No, I can't." Your voice quietened a little. "I can't do it without him, Ades. I know I can't. Not without Is."

Her face looked pained for a few moments.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not! I was fucking stupid, Ades. All my life, he’s always been there, he’s always helped me through everything. He held my hand when I had to get stitches when John didn’t catch me when I fell outta the tree, and when I got gravel stuck in my knees, and when ... when everything bad happened, he was there. What am I gonna do?” You exclaimed, blinking back more tears.

She gripped your shoulders, looking into your eyes.

“You know what, Y/N? You’re going to be a great mum. You’re gonna be what mum was to us, okay? She fucking looked after us even after dad left, and tried her fucking best until she died. And you need to take all of the strength she had, and use it. Because you can do this. I know you can, okay. And when have I ever been wrong about anything?”

At the mention of your mum, your heart swelled a little, the pain felt a little bit less. Ada was right.

“When you told John I wasn’t going to fall out of the tree so he didn’t need to catch me?” You laughed tearily, and she snorted.

“Yeah, asides from that. You’re going to be fine, Squirrel, okay? I’m right here.”

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

“When the fuck is Pol going to get here.” You groaned, walking around the room slowly, trying to dim the pain a little, after the glass of whiskey that Ada had given you, saying that her birth wasn’t that bad with Karl (having been piss drunk at the time), hadn’t seemed to work. All it had done was make you feel a little lightheaded, and so, when the living room door burst open, showing two figures, you were half sure you had become a lightweight all those months without drink, and were almost convinced you were hallucinating.

Polly stood, looking half determined and half worried, not looking at all like she had just stepped off a train, and walked straight towards you, and as much as you would have usually have embraced her, your eyes stayed focused on the person with her. The pain of labour was very quickly replaced by another pain, one that felt like a dagger to the heart. Because that couldn’t be Isaiah. It couldn’t.

When Polly had come to visit, those months ago, she didn’t mention Isaiah, only slipped you a letter as she was about to leave. She didn’t say who it was from, but you recognised the lettering on the envelope, the scrawl that’s only belonged to one person you knew. It had gone unopened for months, and still was, next to your bed upstairs, you being too scared for the rejection you were sure lay inside. Now? With him here? You wished you had opened it.

“Hey.” He said softly, cap between his hands, eyes flickering between your face, and your largely swollen belly.

Your throat felt like it had closed up, and if you opened your mouth, you expected you would just make silent movements with it, gaping like the goldfish you had won at the fair when you were younger.

“How long has it been?” Polly’s voice broke you away from his gaze, back to what was happening.

“Five hours, since her waters broke.” Ada supplied from beside you, her hands carefully rubbing your back, shooting Isaiah a look that was a mixture of thank fuck you’re here and fuck off you wanker.

It was the exactly how you felt, to be honest, as he stood at the door, not moving, not sure what to do.

“Come on, love, let’s get you sat down.” Polly said gently, guiding you towards the sofa. You weren’t sure why Polly had brought him here, or how you really felt, or how he felt. And it was killing you, the not knowing.

“Why’re you here?” Your voice cracked.

Polly and Ada gave each other a glance, a silent decision.

“Five minutes.” Polly spoke to Isaiah, pulling Ada with her. “If you upset her, you’re out.”

With that, the door slammed behind the both. You almost felt pity for him - having the two scariest women you knew angry at you, was sure to scare even Tommy Shelby shitless.

You both stayed where you were, silent, for a few moments.

“I looked for you. For months.” He spoke, softly, sitting down at the edge of the couch you were on, unsure of what to do, of whether to go back to how you used to, and sit right next to you, or treat you like an almost stranger, and keep his distance.

You just blinked at him. “Why?”

“Because I ... I fucked up. I was a prick.”

“Yeah, you were.” You agreed, leaning back against the sofa cushions, not anger in your tone, but pain. Waiting to see how this would all play out.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me forever. If you never wanted to see me again. If you wouldn’t even tell the ... the baby who I was.”

“Is.” You sighed. “Isaiah.” You corrected yourself, the old nickname feeling sour in your mouth now. “You aren’t ready for a kid. I can’t blame you. I can blame how you reacted. But I can’t blame you for that.”

“You’re wrong.” He spoke again. “Once you left my house, I ... I was so angry. At myself, at you, at whatever bloody God there is for letting this happen. Because I was scared. I was scared because I didn’t factor in a baby to my plan, and I was scared because I knew how those people, the people here, would treat you, and our baby, for me, for their father, the colour of my skin.”

You swallowed. It wasn’t as if the thought hadn’t occurred to you, over and over again, thoughts rushing through your brain, as you begged internally, for things to be different when your baby was born, in London, for people to not care about their ethnicity, for them to not show the same hate you had seen people show Isaiah since you were a kid.

“And I was scared that I couldn’t do it. That I couldn’t be a father. It was only when I realised that the person that mattered most over all of that, was you. And then I realised what I’d done.”

“But you didn’t come for me.” You said tearily. “You didn’t come and tell me any of this.”

“I went to your house the morning afterwards. I was gonna ask you to marry me. I had this whole apology figured out, and I just... I was going to make things right again. I was so sure. And then Tommy told me you were gone. And he wouldn’t say where, or with who, and I just... I couldn’t think of what to do. After a while, I figured it was Ada, and I came to London, but there’s no way I could find this place without any help, and no one wanted to help. They all said that you’d be better off without me. I - I started to believe it.”

He had tears in his eyes now, and your heart broke a little more. Tentatively, you stretched out your hand to his, and as his fingers slotted between yours, you felt a familiar sense of warmth.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. “I got your letter. I didn’t open it, I thought... I just thought it would be you saying you didn’t want anything to do with the baby.”

“I do, Y/N. I want everything to do with this baby. It took losing you to figure that out, but I have. I swear. I’ll never, never leave you, okay. Not again. I promise. Just give me this chance. Please.”

His voice was half begging now, but you were already saying yes, feeling more complete and happy than you had since before you learnt you were pregnant. Feeling, for the first time, that you could do this. That you could do anything, as long as you had Is with you.

“Okay, Is.” You spoke softly. “Okay.”

[illfoandillfie]

D40: Each one of my thoughts about you are improper B26: It's not morning yet.. B13: here's my number With Roger please.

D40 - “Each one of my thoughts about you are improper,” + B26 - “It’s not morning yet…” + B13 - Here’s my number,”

600 followers celebration blurb prompts

~~~

It had been a week ofsurprises. You were surprised when Freddie leaned over to you during class and offeredto set you up with one of his friends. And you were even more surprised tolearn that friend was Roger Taylor, biology student, drummer extraordinaire andcocky arsehole by all accounts. You’d protested at first, telling Freddie youweren’t just some cheap floozy Roger could charm into his bed and then nevercall again. But somehow he’d still managed to talk you into the date. Hisassurances that Roger wasn’t actually like that helped, though you did wonder howthose particular rumours started. Either way, on Friday night you foundyourself in the passenger seat of Roger’s car, on the way to the nicestrestaurant either of you could afford.

Perhaps the biggestsurprise of the week was how well the date went. Roger was charming for sure,but not the jerk you’d been warned about. The conversation never felt stiltedor awkward. He was easy to talk to, easy to laugh with. Flirty but notoutrageously so. And it didn’t hurt that he was attractive, his pretty blueeyes reflecting the light of the candle that flickered in the middle of thetable. When dessert came, he offered you a taste of his pineapple upside downcake in return for a bite of your lemon meringue pie. You leaned across thetable, carefully holding your hair away from the open flame, as he fed you thesweet sticky cake. You didn’t miss the way his breath stuttered or the way hislips parted slightly as you licked yours. There was undeniable chemistry betweenyou, and you made a note to thank Freddie with some sort of baked treat.

At the end of the night he’ddropped you home, both lingering on your doorstep, not quite ready to saygoodnight. “Thank you for a lovely night. I had a really good time.”“I’m going to ignore how surprised by that you sound.”“Probably for the best, but maybe this’ll make up for it” you laughed as you dugaround in your purse until you found a scrap of paper and a pen, “here’s mynumber. Call me?”“Absolutely.”He left you with a soft, chaste kiss, and a smile you couldn’t get rid of.

A few nights later youfound yourself in his car again, talking like your conversation hadn’t beeninterrupted. No longer surprised by how much you enjoyed spending time withhim, you let yourself sink into his warmth as he wrapped his arm around you inthe booth at the bar. The few drinks he’d invited you out for soon turned intoa quest for a cheap meal. He knew of a place not far from where you were,promising you the best fish and chips you’d ever eat. Half-way up the streethe, slightly nervously, took your hand in his. You laced your fingers together,earning a smile from him as he squeezed your hand. Without meaning to you endedup on a children’s playground at the park, each sitting on a too small swing,newspaper bundles of chips resting on your laps, as you laughed about somethingstupid. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had made you laugh so much.Okay, serious question,” he said, giggles subsiding,“Yeah?” a twinge of nerves in your stomach.“If you could do one thing tonight that you normally wouldn’t, what would it be?”You thought for a moment before the answer came to you, “Okay, this going tosound really fucking lame,”“Yeah?” He was curious.“Yeah, like, not at all sexy. Just very boring,”“Would you just tell me already?”“I want to watch the sun rise.”“Really?”“Yeah, why, that bad?”“No, it’s actually kinda cute. Just not what I expected.”“It’s something I keep wanting to do. I’ve got this big window in my bedroomand I always think it’d be nice to sit and watch the sun rise from there.”“So why haven’t you?”“I always fall asleep. Went so far as to pull all my blankets and pillows ontothe floor under the window last time I tried, so I’d have a really good view, butI still couldn’t stay up.”You both laughed for a moment, trying not to drop your chips everywhere.“Well why don’t we do it tonight? I’ll keep you company, make sure you stay awake.”“I don’t normally let guys into my room on the second date. Very improper.”“Love, each one of my thoughts about you are improper. But I swear that’s notmy intention.”“Wouldn’t mind if it was.”

You tiptoed through thedoor of your apartment, trying to shush Roger’s giggles through your own so asnot to wake your flatmate. Leading him by the hand, you brought him to yourroom. The first thing he did was turn to look at your bookshelf, running his fingersover the spines.“You’ve got good taste,”“Glad you approve,”“I mean, I knew you had to since you’re so into me,”You threw a pillow at him, hitting him in the back of the head, “good aim tooapparently.”“Oi,” his laughter started up again as he turned to throw the pillow back toyou.You caught the pillow, dropping it back onto your bed.“Thought you were gonna set everything up on your floor like last time,”“Really? Doesn’t that sound uncomfortable?”“Hey, if I’m gonna stay up to see the sun rise with you I want the full experience.”“Alright then, give us a hand,”Together you dragged your duvet over to the window, spreading it out. Rogergrabbed the pillows from your bed as you rummaged through your cupboard for acouple of extra blankets. You pulled the curtains open as Roger sat, grabbingyour hand to tug you down with him.“How long do we have to wait?” he said quietly.“Not sure, a few hours I guess.”“In that case,” he tilted your face up towards him, leaning in to kiss youdeeply. Gently he lay you back, lips never leaving yours. You grabbed the frontof his shirt, pulling him tighter against you as his hand drifted down yourside, coming to rest on your arse. For a while you just stayed like that,lazily making out under the light of the moon. But gradually your hands beganto wander, slipping under the hem of Roger’s shirt, your fingers ghosting upover his ribs as he parted your legs with his knee.

When you were finished yousnuggled close to Roger’s side, your head resting against his neck as he rubbedyour back.“How was that?” he asked softly.You hummed, eyes drooping as the late hour caught up to you. “Hey,” Roger shook you gently, “don’t go to sleep on me. It’s not morning yet…youhaven’t seen the sun come up.”“Take it as a compliment, Rog,” you mumbled sleepily, burying your face deeperinto his neck.“If you go to sleep now I’ll fall asleep too and we’ll both miss it,”“If we miss it we’ll just have to try again tomorrow,”

[they-think-they-got-us]

Kids These Days (Jack x Katherine)

A/N: Yay, my block is gone now!

Requested: Yep! Thanks @hammiegeek!

Tags: Lot’s of fluff

___

The theater was dark and a little bit stuffy, and the fact that Jack was wearing at least three layers did not help. He pulled at his collar, trying to expel some of the heat, but somewhere deep in his mind he suspected that his warmth didn’t come from the air inside the Bowery, but the rush of blood to his face. He couldn’t help it. He was waiting for Katherine. 

He leaned against the wall in the entrance, trying to act casual. He pulled his hat lower over his face as a couple strangers gave him an odd look. 

Jack had been at the Bowery many times in his life, but only once or twice on this side of the stage. Typically he was behind the curtain, painting a backdrop or watching stolen moments from the few shows Medda deemed appropriate. 

But now he watched and he waited as the lobby slowly filled with neatly-dressed gentlemen and women with grand hats with sparkling rings and polished shoes and he couldn’t help but feel rather out of place. 

Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and Jack turned to meet the face of the very person he was looking for. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Katherine said, flashing him a smile that made his heart skip a beat. “I had to finish an article I was working on. You know how I am about procrastinating.” 

She was dressed in a beautiful gown, and her hair was done primly up. Jack stuttered to find words. “You… you look incredible.” 

Katherine blushed. “Well, I try.” 

He wanted to say more, but no sentence he could think of could even fit what he was thinking, and god were her eyes hypnotizing right now. 

“Should we go in?” she prompted, and he jumped. 

“Um, yes. Right this way madam,” he joked, extending an arm. She took it, grinning along.

“Will you show me to my seat, sir? I’m waiting for someone,” Katherine returned as they made their way through the crowded lobby. Jack brushed off the glances he received.

“Oh really?” he asked. “Is he handsome?” 

“Extremely,” she returned. “But I’m afraid he’s a little cocky.” 

He laughed. “It sounds like this man is up to no good. Maybe I should give him a talk?” 

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Katherine teased. Jack lead her down the aisle into one of the front rows. He had gotten the seats as a favor from Medda. “He can be quite charming.” 

They sat down in their chairs, playfully bantering back and forth until the lights dimmed and they were shushed by other members of the audience. Jack’s heart was light in his chest, slightly giddy, and he couldn’t keep a grin off his face. He had seen the show a few times before, but sitting here next to Katherine, it all was freshly new and marvelous. 

Medda stepped onto the stage in a wondrous pink gown and hat, the spotlight sending glints of light off of every single diamond she wore. 

“Welcome to my theater!” she cried, extending her arms out and the audience erupted into applause. Jack settled back into his seat as Medda delved into her famous song, but he found himself glancing at Katherine more often than the stage. 

At one point, she caught him looking and leaned in to whisper, “You know, about a week ago I was reprimanding you to leave me alone. Now here we are together.” 

“Funny how it works, isn’t it?” Jack replied, eager to talk to her some more, though he noticed the man next to him was glaring. “Should I draw another portrait of you?” 

“I wouldn’t exactly mind it,” she mused. “I still have the one you did though. It’s somewhere in my office.”  

“I’m flattered you care so much for my drawing that you know exactly where it is,” Jack mocked. She bumped him and grinned. Medda’s song ended and the lights dimmed as the set changed. When they came back on again, two scantily clad females were posed in front one of Jack’s backdrops, a red and orange scene of an autumn mountain. 

“Is that a new one?” Katherine whispered. “I don’t think I’ve seen it before.” 

He nodded. “Just finished it yesterday.” 

“It’s beautiful.” 

Jack shrugged, though he felt a flip in his stomach at her praise. “It’s just a painting.” 

“Yeah, and I just write stories.” Katherine turned in her seat. “You know, Jack, you should be more proud of your art! You do work at one of the biggest newspapers in New York, after all.” 

He looked away bashfully. “I’m not that good. It’s just a hobby.” She whacked his arm. 

“Hobby! Jack, you have a talent. Have you thought any more about art school?” 

He scoffed. “Art school? Where would I even get the money for that?” Katherine scooted closer to him in her seat. 

“Well, I’m sure I could convince my father to--” Jack shook his head, painfully aware of her skin brushing his forearm. 

“I couldn’t take your money. Besides,” he lowered his voice. “It would mean…” She nodded in anticipation as he trailed off. “Leaving... you.” 

Her eyes widening in surprise for a moment, then settled into an easy grin. The pink of her cheeks flushed. “Oh, Jack--” 

“Shh!” the man next to them burst suddenly, glaring at them. The two jumped and turned back toward the stage with muttered apologies. 

The Bowery Beauties sang a familiar song, slightly nasally and incredibly sassy as they performed a series of high-kicks. Trumpets growled in the background and the girls puckered their lips and leaned forward to blow a kiss to the audience. 

“Welcome to the new century,” Katherine had said once. “Times are changing.” They sure were. After Katherine’s big headline about the strike, the newspapers of New York were seeing more and more female reporters making the front page. He couldn’t but feel a wave of pride on her behalf, his incredible and daring… girlfriend. 

It felt strange just to think about that, but he supposed it was true. Unconsciously, his fingers slid down the armrest of his chair and brushed against her hand. She flipped her palm upside down and took his hand in hers, pressing into it. Jack caught his breath. 

The feeling of love never got old. 

He leaned over, and his other arm moved of its own volition, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ears. 

Katherine tore her eyes away from the show, not with frown, not with a smile, but with a mellowed look of contentment, and she met Jack’s gaze. They hovered for a moment, their faces inches apart, their breaths ghosting across each other’s cheeks and just waiting for the right moment.

Jack cupped her face in his palm, and as the Beauties on stage hit an impressively high note, he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to hers. Something in his stomach sparked like fire and his heart quite literally grew wings and flew away, and the skin of her cheek was incredibly soft and the theater was warm and full of cascading sounds and all of Jack’s thoughts were wiped away and all he could think about was her.

“Jack…” Katherine breathed as they pulled away for a moment. 

“Katherine,” he replied, allowing himself a small grin. “I think I’m in love with you.” 

She squeezed his hand and laughed softly. “I know.” And then she leaned in again and Jack’s feet lifted off the ground, weightless.

The song ended and the house lights lifted, revealing the two of them for the whole theater to see. A girl, beautiful and powerful, with a homeless newsboy. “Girls like you don’t end up with guys like me,” Jack had said once. But times were changing now. And frankly, he didn’t give a damn anymore about what anyone else thought. He was right where he needed to be. With Katherine.

The man next to them rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

“Kids these days.” __

Send in more requests if you got ‘em! I might not always be able to answer right away (thanks, exams), but I will definitely answer!

[bleusarcellewrites]

Dancing On The Roof

Take this away from me already, God. 

Happy late birthday, @l-x-ie​ !!!! Hope you enjoy this ‘small’ fic, and again a big thank you to @monsir-arts​ for letting me base the fic on this fanart of theirs. 

I have nothing else to say except: Thief Klance Au and that this may suck HARD but whATEVER. 

Ps. Guys, this is like 6k .....so like, here’s the Ao3 link tbh.  

Disclaimer: Voltron doesn’t belong to me and neither does the art. 

His hand hovers over the empty marble surface and Keith just wants to scream.

That motherfucker.

He picks up the small yellow post-it on the middle, where his diamond is supposed to be, and his blood boils with fury.

Keith could kill him, honest to God, he could and he would throw the biggest party ever, but he can’t. He can’t because killing Blue will mean having the entire Altea Agency on his ass and Keith can do without the extra attention on him.

Keith just wanted to settle down on a motherfucking private island with a glass of lemonade, was that too much to ask?

‘Better luck next time, Red ~ <3’ it reads, handwriting playful and loopy.

Apparently, yes, it was a lot to ask.

He crumples the post-it with one hand before tugging it into his jeans’ back pocket. No point on leaving evidence of his presence on Blue’s robbery.

Robbery that was supposed to be motherfucking his, honestly, what the fu –

‘Patience yields focus,’ Keith thinks, cutting his own train of thoughts, and then he takes a deep breath, shoulders losing their tension at each exhale he releases.

He opens his eyes and turns around, tugging his blade back to its holder before climbing the walls to exit the museum.

Shiro looks up from his tablet to find Keith ripping to pieces the last piece of newspaper in their floor. He waits until Keith has settled down, panting hard and an angry flush on his face, and then he speaks up.

“Blue?” He asks casually, and that earns him another scream from his partner.

“Shiro! Shiro! He stole my painting! The painting I have been eyeing for weeks now. I was going to steal it tonight and he fucking – ! Oh my god! I’m going to kill him.”

Shiro stares flatly at him. “Keith, he’s from the Altea’s Agency, you know, our allies?”

“He keeps stealing from me!”

The older man rolls his eyes but grins at his friend. “Then you need to be faster, buddy.”

Keith glares at him, annoyed and angry, throwing the remaining paper of his newspaper towards Shiro. “That motherfucker has been on my ass for weeks now! You know, when I accepted this job, by your constant pushing, I didn’t expect an annoying shadow following me around and stealing my missions.”

“He can’t be your shadow is he’s a step in front of you.”

Keith ignores him. “’Neck and neck’ he said, what the hell does that even mean?”

Shiro turns to him, looking confused. “Neck and neck? You have been back from the desert for two months and you already have a rival?”

“He’s not my rival!”

“The cub has a rival? So soon?” Another voice joins the conversation, both men turning around to meet another one of their co-workers, “Who is it?”

“Hi, Thace.” Shiro waves lazily.

The older man nods at him, “Shiro, hello, you still owe me that last week report.”

“Right, right.”

“So, back to the cub’s rival.”

“I don’t have a rival!” Keith snaps.

Shiro shrugs. “He’s called Blue. He’s from AA.”

Thace’s eyebrows lift up in surprise. “Ah, I have heard of him. Him and his occasional team is actually from your generation.”

“What?” Keith asks, hands finally lowering from the air and he pushes himself closer to this chair’s edge towards Thace, “What do you mean?”

“Back in the Garrison Academy, you know, where every student has to train under the program before they are selected or assigned into an Agency?”

“I know what the Garrison is!” Keith scoffs irritated.

Thace looks at him unimpressed. “Well, that guy, Blue, is from your generation and one of the top ones, if I may add.”

Keith blinks and scrunches his nose at his mentor, “Am I supposed to remember him? I didn’t even finish my program before I was tossed and shipped to the desert by Kolivan.”

“Hear, hear.” Shiro mumbles, taking a sip from his tea.

Thace shrugs with a smirk. “You got an undercover mission, a B classified mission, before you even graduated. That’s quite the achievement, kiddo.”

“That still doesn’t explain why this guy is on my shadow.”

“Technically –“

“Shiro, I swear to God –“  

The older man chuckles, ruffling Keith’s hair as if he was eighteen years old all over again, “Don’t think too hard, kiddo. I will have a talk with Allura and make sure your missions don’t intersect each other. Just focus on your own, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Keith grumbles.

“Good. Now, has anyone seen the newspaper?”

“Uh…”

“Keith ate it.”

“Dude.”

“I’m on the move. Black, do I have the go?” Keith mumbles low under his breath, fingers pressed against his ear-com as he kneels on the edge of the roof, eyes scanning the security guard’s moves.

“Hold it,” Shiro whispers slowly and Keith can hear the way his partner is tapping the surface of his computer from his side of the com, the tapping clearly matching the security guy’s steps.

Ten full ticks and then, as the guard closes the entrance’s door behind him, Keith gets his go.

He jumps, feet hitting the roof’s ground harshly but painlessly. He stands up, rolling his shoulders back before cracking his neck. Keith smirks to himself, proud that he didn’t need to use the grappling hook to get across between roofs.

There’s a whistle and Keith snaps his attention to the right, face turning into a deep scowl as he meets Blue’s familiar body shape from the corner of his eye.

“Aw, hell no.” Keith mumbles, taking a deep breath before turning and meeting Blue’s eyes, staring unamused as the man winks at him as a greeting.

“Why, hello there, Red!” Blue says cheerfully, waving his arm around in the air towards the dark sky, “Lovely evening, am I right?”

Keith limits himself to stare flatly at him, flipping him off without a word before turning around, heading towards the window to get inside the building.

“Oh, oh, silent treatment? Rude. Where are you going, anyways? Oh, could it be? Could it be that you are looking for Angelica’s Heart? One of the most valuable gems on the National Museum of our country? Could it possibly be the reason you are here?”

Keith doesn’t answer and keeps walking.

“Because -”

He’s at the edge of the window, the hatch already open and Keith can feel his insides boil already. Blue better not have –

“It’s not -”

Keith pushes his face forward, eyes scanning the room below him, and there’s only one thought running through his mind –

“Going to be there.”

That motherfucker.

Blue barely had time to groan in pain before Keith’s on him. His back hits the ground hard and he coughs a few times, letting out a small ‘ow’ as Keith growls menacingly above him.

“Return what you stole, Blue,” Keith snaps, foot pressing further down against the brunet’s arm, “before I break your arm.”

The little shit laughs. He fucking laughs.

“Sorry, Red,” He chuckles, eyebrow raised in challenge and smirk sharp, “but your heart is mine now.”

This motherfucker.

“Oh yeah, that’s so clever, Blue, har har,” Keith laughs drily, hand curling into a fist as he leans further down, hovering over the brunet’s face, scowl back on place, “Now, give me back my ruby.”

“Funny how they call a ruby a ‘heart’, right?”

“Second try: give me back my ruby.”

“I didn’t see your name on it.”

“What are you? Twelve?”

“On the scale from one to ten, yes.”

Keith inhales deeply, hand twitching and aching to grab his blade but he controls himself. “One last chance: give me back my ruby or I will kill you.”

Blue purses his lips, as if thinking it over, before he clicks his mouth and sticks out is tongue in mock.

“Nah.”

He will kill him. That’s it, no more holding back, he’s 100% going to kill him –

“Red,” Shiro’s voice makes its way back to his com and Keith’s shoulders tense up at the sharp tone on his partner’s voice, “The mission is over, turn back and report back to the base.”

“But –” Keith complains, eyes falling back to Blue’s frame, scoffing in annoyance when he sees the brunet is laying almost lazily on the floor, not minding in the least that Keith is basically pinning him down.

“Now, Red.”

Keith grunts but nods nonetheless, mumbling a quick ‘understood’ before he pulls himself back and starts walking away from Blue.

“Yeah, okay, fun night, huh? See you next week, man! You know, if you actually get there in time!”

So, okay, Keith returned to the base with one knife missing, and he might had had his ear chew off by Kolivan because of it, but the surprised yelp and pained grunt of Blue as the knife hit him straight on the shoulder made it worth it.

Here’s the thing: Keith might be sleep deprived and jetlagged but he knows what shit he owns, alright?

And he knows for damn sure that he left his 19th Century wrist clock on his coffee table.

Keith frowns, eyes narrowed suspiciously before his breath hitches and looks around him wildly before yelling out in annoyance and running towards his terrace, the only entrance to his apartment besides the front door.

“You come back here, right now, with my shit, you piece of shit!” Keith shouts, waving his fist in the air and leaning forward on his terrace’s handrail, “I will find you and I will kill you, you hear me!”

There’s a snort and a soft ‘Oh my god’ above him and Keith’s quick to look up, his dark eyes meeting Blue’s lighter ones.

“I can’t believe you just threatened me with a meme,” Blue giggles, shaking his head in amusement, still hanging upside down from the apartment’s exterior pipes, “A motherfucking meme, oh my god.”

Keith stays silent, hand reaching for his blade and he groans internally when he remembers it’s on the other side of his room inside his apartment.

He limits himself to flip Blue off.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about and I don’t give a flying fuck,” Keith growls, trying to push himself higher to meet Blue’s face – tippy toes, he was basically on his tippy toes – “but I’m sick and tired of this game, get your own targets and your own shit.”

“Oh, but I do have my own target,” Blue remarks, a wide playful grin growing on his face, “and I gotta say, life just got interesting because of him since he came back.”

Him. Did he just –?

“Did you just fucking objectify me?” Keith snaps, scowling when the brunet only laughs.

“Okay, hate to hit and run, but I gotta go.” Blue shrugs, winking at Keith while finger gun pointing at him and then he’s falling.

Keith stares unimpressed as Blue’s body falls just besides him, praying and hoping that maybe he will hear a splash of that dumb head crashing against the pavement below them instead of a grappling hook shot.

There’s a laugh, the familiar sound of a grappling hook shooting and Keith limits himself to puff his cheeks in what could almost be a pout.

There’s always next time.

“Don’t you dare!” Keith shouts, pointing an accusing finger towards the frozen spy, “Blue, I see you! Don’t you fucking dare –!”

Blue turns his head slowly, blue eyes wide as if he was actually surprised Keith had caught him red handed for the first time in weeks, before a grin spreads over his face.

“What? Me? Daring to do something that might upset you, Red?” Blue coos, eyes big with fake innocence before he moved his finger closer to the crystal vase in front of him, “but I’m just admiring these pieces of art –”

Keith doesn’t hesitate.

“Nah-huh!” He snaps, grabbing the closest thing around him and throwing it towards his rival, “No! No way! Na-huh, bitch!”

“Ow, what the fuck – !” Blue shouts back in annoyance as soon as the flower vase hits his right arm before it falls and crashes on the floor loudly, “Dude, holy fuck! That one hurt!”

“Good!” Keith cheers, narrowing his eyes and throwing another piece of crystal to Blue, who barely had the time to dodge the tiny empty jewelry box aimed to his head.

“You know what!” Blue shouts, frowning irritated, “Just for that, now I’m definitely gonna steal this piece of shit! Just to spite you!”

“Your entire existence spites me!” Keith yells, grunting in frustration when Blue dodges yet another crystal.

“Oh, oh, yeah? You think you’re so smart, Red? Well, your mullet is an offence to the entire country!” Blue shouts back, grabbing his own crystal and throwing it with vigor towards Keith.

“At least I’m not a low-class spy who can’t get his own targets!”

Another crystal vase.

“You fucking say that to my motherfucking face, you dick!”

There goes a tiara.

“I fucking am? I’m shouting it!”

That glass wasn’t even important, so it’s okay.

“It’s mine!”

“No, it’s mine!”

“I got here first!”

“No, I did! I have been on the outpost for half the night now!”

“Well boo-fucking you!”

“Get off!”

“No, you get off!”

The painting in their hands cracks and both spies stare at the gaping hole in the middle of it before looking up at the ceiling.

“None of you are getting it because you just attracted the police, losers,” The small figure on top of the roof sighs, putting away her gun, “Blue, let’s go!”

“I had that, Green!” Blue huffs, rolling his eyes before grabbing the rope offered to him, his partners quickly pulling him up, “Whatever, you got lucky this time, Red!”

Keith limits himself to raise his hand and move it as if it was a mouth, sticking out his tongue in mock, “You got lucky this time, Red, bla, bla, bleh.”

“You motherfu –!”

Blue’s insult is cut off as his second partner, the one bigger than him in weight and height, picks him up like a bag of potatoes and swing him over his shoulder, an exasperated sigh on his lips.

Keith glares as Blue and Gold disappear from his sight before he shifts his gaze towards the last partner, the smallest one of the trio.

“You got three minutes, Red,” Green announces nonchalantly, pressing a few buttons on her wrist device before flashing him an amused grin, “I would have given you more but I thought you would enjoy the challenge.”

Keith blinks and realizes that the alarm in the museum is off when it had been on just a second ago. He hums, half impressed and half offended.

He grins back at her. “Psh, you gave me more than necessary, Green.”

Green laughs and waves at him as a goodbye.

“Looks like you’re in a tight spot right now, huh, Blue?”

“I would flip you off if, you know, if I could,” Blue grumbles, grunting as he tries to push himself forward before falling back down. “Dude, just...help me out? My head is hurting from being upside down.”

Keith hums, tapping his chin as if thinking about it.

“Okay,” Keith agrees nonchalantly before grinning, “but you gotta give me back the porcelain teapot, you know, the one that belonged to the fucking Queen of England.”

Blue gasps loudly. “Not Mrs. Potts!”

“That one is from France, you uncultured dipshit.”

Yeah, sure, okay, Keith helped his own rival out, but that’s just because there was a very important teapot on the table. That teapot was one of the most valuable items in the country and he will be dammed to miss this opportunity.

Sure, he could just kick Blue in the nuts, grab the teapot and call it a night. He doesn’t, though, because watching Blue fall to the ground comically after he cuts the rope holding him up is way funnier.

They dodge the police, cross the rooftops and then on the fifth neighborhood, Keith hold out his hands.

“Alright, a deal is a deal, man. Hand it over.”

Blue bites his lower lip before he pulls out his hand from his satchel, dropping small pieces of porcelain in Keith’s waiting hand.

“Yeah, so, I might had crushed it unexpectedly when I fell on the trap,” he smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck helplessly.

Keith clicks his tongue and smiles; wide and tight and Lance can only frown in confusion before he’s being push down the edge of the roof.

“Red! Dude! What the fu –! Oh my god!” Blue shouts, hands still in the air, looking wildly for something to hold on to before realizing it was in vain and taking out his grappling hook.

Keith watches, almost bored, as Blue swing himself to the other building’s roof. He leans against the edge of his own rooftop as Blue’s feet find the ground.

“You fucking asshole!”

Keith smirks, makes a poor imitation of Blue’s finger gun points move, wink included, before flipping him off.

“That one was for Mrs. Not Potts!”

He laughs at Blue’s indignant squeak.

Another night, another stolen diamond.

Blue’s laughs echoes around him even after the jump and Keith scowls when he feels the corner of his mouth twitch upward.

“You stop that.” He whispers quietly under his breath to himself before rolling his eyes and turning around, heading the opposite from where Blue had disappeared to.

Okay, so, there goes another gem. Keith adds it to the list of the things Blue has stolen from him, for the record, you know, for the day he actually kills him he will narrate the entire list.

Keith regrets the day he decided to work with a small hand blade and not a gunshot because if he had a gunshot he could at least shot that ass and it will be the death of all his problems.

Well, one of them, because if he needs to shoot every single one of his problems, he would have to shoot Blue’s face too.

And his toned arms.

That jaw too.

Can’t forget the legs.

Keith pauses, shakes his head in bewildered by his thoughts before he takes out his own grappling hook.

Well, goddammit, might as well shoot himself if he goes down this road of thoughts.  

The entire bathroom is fogged with steam but Keith’s sure that he should have found his towel already.

The black-haired man groans, leaving the shower stall and stepping out, feet hitting the cold bathroom’s floor.

He looks around him and arches an eyebrow when he sees no white towel on sight.

“I could have sworn…” he mumbles before rolling his eyes and cursing under his breath, heading towards the door.

Keith walks down his apartment's hall, cracking his neck softly and sighing in content as he feels his muscles relax even more. He hums to himself aimlessly as he steps into his bedroom before he stops abruptly.

He waits; one, two, three ticks before –

“Damn.”

The breathless whisper is enough for Keith to spin around, throwing one of his blades hard towards the origin of the sudden uninvited voice.

“Shit, gotta go, ok, bye, Red! Uh - I didn’t think you would actually – ! You know  – !  I um – Yeah anyways, your towel is really soft where do you get it? You know what? Never mind, I’m going now, because I see you have more knives. Look at that, not at all surprised and...and you are aiming your next one, okay, bye now!”

The second blade flies and Keith curses loudly when it only grazes Blue’s shoulder as the brunet dives towards the terrace.

“Son of a bi  – ! Did you really just steal my towel¡?”

That motherfucker.

Keith pants hard as the turns a sharp corner, bullet barely missing him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Shiro had warned him, he fucking had, saying that the sudden unregistered mission couldn’t be anything but a trap but Keith hadn’t listened.

‘You don’t have a green go for this mission, Keith,’ Shiro had said two days ago, ‘Not until we figure it out where it came from.’

It came from the Galra, Keith found out, but he really couldn't gloat about his discovery seeing as he was ambushed and attacked by said spies.

‘This is gonna cost me an ear with Shiro and Kolivan,’ Keith thinks, dodging one of the shots coming from behind him, hissing in pain when the gash on his right hip doesn’t agree with his sudden movement.

He was supposed to be on the other side of the city, stealing some diamond that came from all the way over from Russia, but no, he isn’t because Keith's a stubborn ass who wanted the unofficial mission and get himself killed by their enemies.

Whatever, Blue probably already stole it by now for sure.

He’s too entranced with his thoughts, which is something that Thace would scold him about, that he doesn’t notice the sudden body coming from his left and then his entire body crashes against the wall, yelling out in agony when his bad shoulder collides with the hard surface.

He slides down the wall slowly, biting his lip hard against his teeth as he glares at the Galra spy in front of him.

There’s a gun’s end staring right down at him and Keith can only sigh, dropping his shoulder but pushing himself as tall as he could in his lumped sitting position on the floor.

He glares up at the gun, eyes misty and wide but never wavering.

Keith hears a laugh from the Galra, as if they were amused, but he saves himself the energy to curse them. Instead, he closes his eyes and hopes that those who he considered family know that he had tried and that he had cared.

He closes his eyes and waits. For the first time in his life, he waits.

There’s a shot and that’s all Keith needs to know it’s over.

“Red, hey, are you with me? Red!” He hears someone hiss near him, familiar, almost comforting, and Keith can’t help but think ‘huh, death really is painless.’

Except it wasn’t.

“Keith!” Someone shouts and then there’s a sharp stinging pain in his left cheek, the one that isn't decorated with a gaping gash in the middle, and Keith snaps his eyes open, the end of a gun being replaced with a pair of big blue concern eyes. “Come on, man! Keith!”

That’s his name. How does Blue knows his name?

“Are you with me? Keith, answer me!” Blue tries again, this time patting his cheek as if to make him focus but Keith can only frown in confusion, eyes only shifting to the side to see the unmoving form of the Galra.

“Blue here, I got him. The East Wing has been neutralized, heading to the exit now. I will meet you outside, no, I got him, don't worry.”

Keith has no idea who he’s talking to but he doesn't care. He just keeps staring at Blue, eyelids fluttering quickly, his entire body shaking with exhaustion.

“Hey! No falling asleep on me! No way Jose! Red! Keith!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Keith mumbles quietly, falling forward, fully expecting for his face to meet the floor but instead, he’s pressed against a firm warm chest.

“Okay, alright, time to go then.” He hears Blue whisper and then he’s being carried, bridal style, his mind lazily recognizes.

It’s a good thing Keith’s half conscious, because he would throw a fit if he wasn't.

There’s noise and voices around him, the sounds of tires against the pavement along the faint sound of police sirens but Keith can’t seem to concentrate. Not when strong arms hold him close to their warmth, as if he was something precious, like one of the gems they are in charge of stealing.

Someone is calling for him, asking, maybe begging him to stay awake. He feels the sharp pain of something piercing his skin and he jerks abruptly, barely being able to move with the arms around him but there’s a soft humming on his ear and its distracts him enough from the pain until he can barely notice it.

He hasn’t realized that he had closed his eyes until the smell of vanilla hit his nose and he opens one eye, slowly and weakly to stare at his own living room.

Keith blinks, confusion clear on his face and then he looks up, eyes meeting Blue’s strong jaw and steady gaze. It feels almost surreal to see Blue so serious and without a smile.

It’s not long before Blue catch his stare and then a small smile appears on his face, making Keith’s stomach to flip.

“Hunk and Shiro already patched you up enough on the way here,” Blue fills him in, quietly and low, footsteps gentle as he walks towards the bedroom and Keith vaguely notices the way he’s still on his arms, strong and secure, “You still need to go to your base’s infirmary to make sure. Pidge made sure to completely erase your presence from tonight’s event and Allura’s working on the Galra as we speak. It’s done, so you just...just rest.”

Keith hums, not really understanding Blue’s words but still nodding as if he did. He pushes himself closer to Blue’s chest, his eyebrows furrowed together as memories fill his head and mix themselves. He feels like he’s back in the Garrison’s halls, back in the classrooms, the library, and training deck. There’s a faint memory of a loud young voice filling his mind followed by laughter, teasing and then –

“Lance.”

Blue’s steps falter for a second before he continues, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath before dropping the injured spy on the bed carefully.

“You said my name,” Blue whispers, shock and surprised clear in his voice, “Keith, you – ?”

Keith hums, patting Lance on the shoulder with his good arm.

Lance smiles, small and wobbly but a smile nonetheless, “Ah, so you do remember me.”

Keith would roll his eyes, he honestly would, but he’s too comfortable and warmed that he doesn’t give a shit.

Although, he can still troll Lance.

His mouth twitches, eyes half lidded. “Heh, lousy thief.”

Lance snorts, “Yeah, sure, bring back the Academy’s nicknames, why not, Mullet.”

“Says the one...that never grew up from that one.” Keith slurs, words getting longer and quieter.

His vision is blurry but he can still see the way Lance shakes his head, and if Keith has to guess, there’s an amused smile on his face.

“Whatever you say, man,” Lance whispers and Keith feels a hand on his head, fingers passing through it tenderly, “Don’t go off schedule anymore, because this is the kind of stuff that happens when I’m not with you.”

“Lance and Keith, huh?” Keith whispers, and Lance hums.

“Neck and neck,” Lance adds just as softly, a small playful grin decorating his face, “but lately seems like surpassing you, Mr. Oh I Was Top Of The Garrison Before I Went Undercover Like A Hermit.”

Keith snorts and tries to lift his hand to flip Lance off.

He fails but he’s sure that Lance got the memo because he hears him laugh, but then the hand leaves, the warm dims and Keith’s eyes flutter open.

He sees Lance’s back walking away from him, heading towards open terrace and Keith’s voice gets caught up in his throat.

He tries. His hand shakes as he lifts it up from the mattress, reaching for Lance, reaching to pull him back; for a reason, for whatever reason, he needs to pull him back –

But his vision turns dark, black spots filling the edges, making Lance’s figure to disappear slowly and then he’s out like a light.

His hand falls back to the mattress motionless.

When Keith arrives, it’s the sight of Lance sitting on the roof that greets him; legs swinging on the air as he hums quietly under his breath.

Keith huffs and stomps his foot down annoyed when he catches the soft gleam of the emerald under Lance’s satchel.

“Took you long enough, Red.” Lance hums, not turning around to meet him and Keith resists the urge to choke him.

He does try though; raising both of his hands, still a few feet away from Lance and levels them to where Lance’s neck is before squeezing, hands only meeting air.

“Low-key hurt that you’re trying to imaginary choke me when I saved you three weeks ago.” Lance chuckles, throwing his head back to meet Keith’s glare and his grin only widens.

“I wouldn’t have to choke you if you stopped stealing most of my missions,” Keith snaps, taking a few steps before taking seat besides Lance, “I can’t believe you stole my first gig in three weeks.”

“Aw, but Red, that’s especially why I had to come!” Lance says, shrugging his shoulder, “I had to give you a warm welcome, ya’ know, which this is.”

Keith’s eyes widen as he catches Lance’s hands searching for something in his satchel. He waits and for some reason he feels excited as Lance pulls something out. Huh, maybe tonight he wouldn’t have to do any acrobatics and still go home with a gem, which is cool.

Lance takes his pale hand and drops something on it, making him to look down.

Keith swears he could kill him.

“A ring pop?” Keith deadpans, staring flatly at the candy, unwrapped candy, in his hand.

Lance grins. “It’s watermelon flavour!”

Keith clicks his tongue and smiles, wide and tight and Lance sees it coming before it even arrives.

“No, no, Red –!”

Keith throws the candy to his face, successfully colliding with his forehead and making the brunet to yelp in surprise.

“Dude! That thing costs two dollars!” Blue complains, rubbing his forehead with a pout, “Jesus, at least you didn’t throw me off the ro – Fuck!”

It’s fine, he had his grappling hook.

Keith thinks.

“Kei –!”

Maybe?

He waits, hears a loud ‘ow’ and then pops his head to the edge, smirking when he sees Lance lying face down on the fire escape stairs.

“Are you alive?” He asks nonchalantly, leaning against the edge with his knee.

Keith hums when he hears some groaning.

He’s fine.

“He wasn’t supposed to be there, you know.”

Keith looks up from his blade and meets Shiro’s eyes at the entrance of the common room.

“What?”

“Blue,” Shiro nods, pushing himself from the door’s frame and walking towards the younger man, “That night you got ambushed. He got his own mission on the other side of town but instead he headed to your assigned mission and contacted me as soon as he realized you weren’t coming.”

“He...did?” Keith frowns, lips pursing like they always do when he’s thinking too hard and Shiro takes it upon himself to save him the energy.

Shiro slaps the back of his head.

“Dude,” Keith hisses annoyed but Shiro waves him off, a wide smirk in place as he narrows his eyes suspiciously at Keith’s blush.

Keith huffs, turning away from his partner and picking his blade once again, ignoring the way Shiro point at his own cheeks and puffs them before pointing at him, as if telling him something about his face.

Sure, he feels hot but...the AC is not on, so, yeah, whatever.

“Whatever, that only means that I get to steal that gem next week –”

“Oh, no, the gem is long gone. He stole it the next night.”

“That motherfucker.”

“Hell no. You don’t get this one. You give me back what you just stole and walk away, right now! Blue! Blue, goddammit!”

Keith groans, following Lance to the edge of his terrace before climbing on the wall and ending on the roof of his building, crossing his arms over his chest as he glares at Lance.

The brunet laughs and waves the ruby gently on his hand in Keith’s face. “Oh, what? You want this back? Dude, your own fault for stealing it from me last week, again. I thought he had already established that your heart was mine.”

Keith narrows his eyes in annoyance but his heart beats wildly inside him, his breathing hitches and he knows there’s no use on denying.

Lance may not know this, but Keith’s no longer referring to the Angelica’s heart ruby.

Lance’s tone is playful, like it always is; a teasing and mocking edge on every word that leaves his mouth, making Keith scowl at himself to even feel the sharp tug he feels inside him when he hears them. Keith’s done; he’s tired of this dance on the roof.

“Why should you have it in the first place?” Keith whispers, honest confusion filling his features, not even bothering to deny what was real, his eyes searching for something in Lance’s. He takes a step forward, shoulders dropped, “Why do you even want it?”

Lance’s eyes widen in surprise and shock and Keith almost feels bad for him for dropping the sudden bomb on him but he sees it. He sees the hesitation in those blue eyes. He sees the wobbly movement from Lance’s Adams apple and he sees the way Blue bites down his lower lip, as if holding himself back.

“Lance.” Keith hisses, annoyed and frustrated.

Lance sighs, knowing that the gig was up as soon as his name left Keith’s lips. He drops his hand and jerks his head towards the edge of the building.

Keith’s follows him quietly and sits beside him; shoulders still tense and half turned, as if waiting to hear the answer and yet aching to run away from it.

‘Knowledge or death,’ Kolivan had told him once, back when he was a reckless teenager looking for answers that shouldn’t be found.

Tonight, Keith understand the meaning behind those words better than anyone, and he has accepted his choice.

“You know there’s this saying: An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,” Lance mumbles, rubbing his shoulder aimlessly and Keith ‘s stomach turns, guilty when he realizes it’s the same spot his blade had hit him on all those months ago.

Keith frowns, raising his hand and letting it hover over Lance’s shoulder. “That time when I – ?”

“Hm?” Lance hums, confused by his question before he follows his gaze and his eyes widen, “Oh man, no, hah, believe me, there’s no grudge for that.”

“But you said…an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth?”

Lance nods, no resentment in his eyes as he turns to meet Keith’s gaze once again and finishes for him. “Yeah, and a heart for a heart, Keith.”

Keith’s breath hitches and he’s barely coming to terms with the meaning of Lance’s words before two hands are cupping his cheeks and suddenly Lance’s breath is on him.

“Can I …?” He breathes out, quietly as if there was a chance to wake the entire city if he spoke any louder, “Keith, can I –?“

Keith doesn’t allow him to finish. Instead, he launches forward, quick and hurried, and presses their lips together.

Keith melts.

Warm spreads over his body and he smiles into the kiss unconsciously, feeling proud of the small noise he gets from Lance when he bites down on the tanner man’s lower lip. He pushes himself forward, chest pressed against each other and Keith lets himself go.

He loses track of the time, there’s only Lance for him. Lance’s fingers stroking his cheek, cupping it gently and keeping him close. He feels them on the back of his neck, playing with the end of his hair and gripping it tight and Keith holds back a moan.

His own hands travel their own path on Lance. They go from his hair, to his ears, earning a soft giggle against his mouth, followed by the jaw, and all the way down to his waist, pulling with close with a sharp tug that makes the brunet gasp in surprise and Keith tries to suppress the grin that threatened to break the kiss, but he does hum in appreciation.

Time pass and before neither of them are aware of, they pull away when the need of air is desperate and Keith allows himself to stay still; eyes closed, forehead pressed against Lance’s and he breathes.

“Oh no, what is this?” He hears Lance mumbles playfully, making Keith to open his eyes to stare at him confused, “Angelica’s heart I stole from you? In your hands once again? Keith, how could you steal that from me?” Lance asks in mock offense, hand pressed against his chest.

Keith blinks and frowns, opening his mouth but then Lance’s eyes fall down to Keith’s open palm, making Keith to follow his gaze, and his breath hitches when he sees the ruby in his hand.

“I am betrayed,” Lance laments, mouth twitching in amusement when Keith snorts, “Well, damn, seems like I’m gonna have to steal it back from you, huh?”

Keith’s heart flutters at the words, feeling a sudden rush of affection towards the brunet, feeling thankful that Lance’s still giving him a chance to decide on his own.

Keith huffs, because his decision has been made way before he even realized he had made one. He shrugs his shoulders and replies casually, playing along. “I mean, you can try, Lance, but…”

He turns the ruby in with his fingers, inspecting it carefully and wondering how a small gem was able to get so much meaning.

“There’s no need.” Keith mumbles before locking eyes with Lance again, offering a gentle smile, “Seems like the ruby itself found its favorite thief.”

Lance pauses before he beams and laughs. He laughs and shakes his head in disbelief before he throws himself to Keith, arms around his neck.

Keith joins him, circling his arms around the brunet’s back and nuzzling on the crook of his neck, enjoying the faint smell of caramel in Lance’s clothes.

“But the next sapphire that we encounter is mine, you hear me?”

Lance snorts against his neck. “You just like the analogy of gems being hearts and you want one of them being my heart.”

“A heart for a heart.”

“Fair enough.”

[max-is-tired]

So Much For Not Causing A Ruckus

Fandom: Avengers

Pairing: established Bucky/OC

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton, James “Rhodey” Rhodes, Nick Fury, Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, OC

Words: 4.840

Warnings: making out, fighting, explosions, blood, swearing, I think that’s it?

Notes: This is a commission I wrote for @asrasdarling -it was so much fun to write, her OC Jenna is amazing and tbh I never quite realized how fun it is writing these characters. Thank you so much for commissioning me, it was an amazing experience, and sorry for taking so long to actually post it!!

Commission me!!  Buy me a coffee!!  Join my Discord server!!

It all started as a normal Sunday in the Avengers Tower.

Steve was cooking breakfast, moving swiftly around the kitchen as soft notes flowed through the air from the little radio perched in a corner of the counter -no matter how many times Tony pointed out how old and surpassed that thing was, Steve was quite fond of it and because of that it stayed, even if it elicited a half-hearted grumble from Tony every time it played tunes in the same room as him.

Natasha was mostly lounging on a chair, keeping Steve company with light chatter and occasionally flicking a knife through the air as Clint repeatedly tried -and spectacularly failed- to snag something to eat from the vents. Beside her, Rhodey sipped his coffee and idly wondered if he was the only sane person in this godforsaken tower.

(His answer arrived in the form of Sam screeching bloody murder from the living room, followed swiftly by a muffled thump and Clint's all-too-familiar cackle -it appeared the archer had lost interest in trying to steal food from Steve and had decided to go wreak havoc somewhere else. Rhodey simply sighed and downed what was left of his scalding coffee in one large gulp, barely acknowledging Natasha patting his shoulder in sympathy. He really needed a vacation).

As for Jenna and Bucky, they had since claimed one of the training rooms for themselves, slowly working up from light stretches and doing their own thing to a sparring match on the mattress situated in the middle of the room -Bucky's idea, obviously.

Jenna was very much aware that one of the main reasons Bucky had proposed it -like every other time he did- was because her close-fighting abilities were the weakest out of all of their team -which put her in more danger if her hideout were to ever be compromised during a mission than, let's say, Clint. She found it sweet and somewhat endearing, that her boyfriend worried so much about her. That still didn't make her muscles hurt any less after their sparring sessions, which yeah, sucked ass, but what can you do?

Jenna stepped to the side, jerking out of her thoughts just in time to barely avoid one of Bucky's kicks. Maybe she should leave her musings to after getting her butt kicked by her boyfriend.

("That's hot though," pointed out a little voice in her head.

 "Shut up," answered Jenna, pushing said little voice back in the dark hole it crawled out from.)

"You know-" she said conversationally, trying desperately to change the subject as she ducked down to avoid a punch directed at her face -getting a direct hit from Bucky's metal arm hurt like a bitch and a half, she knew it all too well and was not interested in a repeat of that experience thank you very much- "I'm starting to think that these training sessions are actually just a cover to have me all for yourself for a couple of hours."

"Shut up and keep that guard up," Bucky grunted, trying to sound stern even as the shadow of a smile danced at the corner of his lips despite his best efforts to keep it down, "you may be an archer, but being good at self-defense has never hurt anyone before."

"My aching muscles would like to have a word with you about that," Jenna grumbled, skipping a few feet backward to put some distance between them.

Bucky let out a snort, mirth dancing in his eyes, and lunged.

They kept sparring and exchanging quips for another good fifteen minutes -a new record for Jenna, who was barely fighting down a proud smile at her own progress- before Bucky managed to block one of her punches and grab her arm, twisting it behind her back and throwing her on the mattress, effectively pinning her down.

"Aaand you're dead," Bucky said, grinning down at her.

"Kinky," Jenna, quipped back, waggling her eyebrows.

Bucky threw his head back and laughed, pushing himself up with a smile.

"You know-" he chuckled, extending a hand towards Jenna to help her get up- "you're getting better at this. One day I might be the one pinned down to the mattress, who knows."

Jenna's smirk as she took the offered hand was the only warning Bucky got before finding himself thrown on the ground, back pressed firmly to the mattress as his girlfriend towered over him, smugness written all over her features.

"Oh honey, you just have to ask," she drawled before leaning down to kiss him.

+++

They got out of the training room an hour later, grinning and exchanging the occasional quip as they made their way towards their room to take a well-needed shower.

“I’m more than ready to just pass out on the nearest horizontal surface and sleep until tomorrow the earliest,” Jenna groaned, stretching her arms upwards, “I’ve got muscles aching that I never knew I had.”

“Oh, hush,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes, “you say that every time we train.”

“Okay but, and hear me out here-” she countered- “it’s Sunday. Why exactly did we have to train on a fucking Sunday? It should be illegal, honestly.”

“Because Hydra waits for no one, Jen,” Bucky answered, wit a hint of seriousness in his tone.

“I know, I know,” Jenna sighed, moving to kiss his cheek, “I’m still tired, though.”

“A shower and then you’ll be as good as new,” Bucky hummed, opening their bedroom door and motioning for Jenna to get in, “I’d let you sleep in a little, but we got breakfast with the others today.”

Jenna groaned, flopping herself on the bed. “Fuck Sunday breakfast. Whose idea was it anyway?” she grumbled, voice muffled.

“Steve’s,” Bucky chuckled, “and you know he’s not above dragging us down there by force -he’s done that before.”

Jenna muttered something to herself, rolling on her back. At the time it had felt like a cute idea, having a day where they all had their meals together in the tower’s common room -to bond as a team, Steve often said. Give me my coffee already or they'll never find your body, Tony often answered, sleep-deprivation and his overall not being a morning person making it very difficult for him to deal with that very chaotic bunch of superheroes without wanting to break out his iron man gauntlets.

It was during Sundays like this one that Jenna found herself agreeing with Tony on the matter. Sadly, Steve was also a very good cook and the mere thought of his homemade pancakes was making Jenna’s stomach grumble like nothing else -much to her very obvious annoyance and Bucky’s not very concealed amusement.

“Shut up,” she muttered, grabbing the nearest pillow and throwing it into Bucky’s general direction.

“Alright, alright,” said Bucky, throwing his hands up in surrender as he easily sidestepped the flying object, “come on, go take a shower and then we can go be social with the others.”

“Ew, socialization.”

“Jenna, get your ass off that bed and go shower,” Bucky huffed, taking off his shirt and throwing it into the laundry basket.

Jenna hummed, making no move to get off the bed as she let her head hang from one side of it. She smirked, looking at Bucky upside-down as she gave him a full once-over.

“I don’t know, I might need an incentive,” she drawled, waggling her eyebrows, “fancy taking that shower with me? We can save time like that and who knows, I might need some help.”

“You’ll make us incredibly late,” Bucky huffed.

“Who, me?” Jenna batted her eyebrows, putting on her best angelic expression as she made grabby hands at her boyfriend, “what did I ever do to make you think that?”

Bucky shook his head, fighting down a smile as he walked to the bed and swiftly picked Jenna up, bridal style. “You’re impossible, you know that right?”

“But you love me for it!” she chirped, wrapping her arms around his neck as she let herself be carried into the bathroom.

+++

They ended up arriving late for breakfast, of course.

(“Fashionably late, you mean,” Jenna corrected when one of the others pointed it out, grinning devilishly from behind her coffee. Bucky simply rolled his eyes with a smile, grabbing another pancake.)

The meal was surprisingly calm -or as calm as it could be with a bunch of superheroes all sitting around the same table with large amounts of coffee available- and proceeded with next to no hiccups.

If Jenna had to identify some highlights from the meal, she’d probably choose Peter appeared at the kitchen’s entrance halfway through, looking dead on his feet as he shuffled forward -even just cracking his eyes open appeared to be too much of an effort for the boy, who seemed to be relying more on his enhanced senses than anything else.

Of course, walking around with his eyes closed proved to be trickier than Peter probably thought it would be, because he didn’t even have the time to actually enter the room that he promptly smacked his head on the doorway, falling to the ground in  mess of limbs and barely concealed curses.

“Language!” Steve called, not even looking up from the newspaper in his hands. Beside him, Clint tumbled down his chair, merrily cackling his lungs out and consequently ending up choking on his own breakfast -turns out that wheezing on the floor with food still in your mouth is not a good activity for you if you would like to not risk asphyxiation via vengeful, half-chewed pancake pieces.

“Don’t you dare die here, you know how much paperwork that would be?” Tony said from his spot at the table, smirking into his coffee as a very disgruntled Peter threw himself on the chair beside him.

Jenna simply chuckled at the scene, gaining a half-hearted glare from Clint to which she answered with her best angelic smile. Beside her, she could see Bucky fighting down a smirk, their pinkies interlaced under the table as they shared an amused glance.

All in all, it was just a normal Sunday in the Avengers Tower.

So, of course, it could only be Fury the one to step out of the elevator with a grim expression on his face and a tablet in his hands.

“We have a problem,” he said as a way of greeting, immediately causing the atmosphere to become somber.

“I haven’t had enough coffee for this,” Tony grumbled under his breath, standing up and moving towards the kitchen to refill his cup.

Staring at her own cup, Jenna found herself begrudgingly agreeing with him for the second time in the span of one morning.

That was never a good sign.

+++

“So,” Jenna said, taking her seat beside Bucky as everyone entered the conference room, “whose ass are we gonna kick on this fine Sunday morning?”

“This is a serious issue, agent,” Fury reprimanded her, throwing a scolding glare in her general direction.

Jenna simply raised an eyebrow, shrugging.

“Yes, I know, crime never sleeps, always gotta be ready, the whole nine yards,” she quipped, leaning back on her chair, “that doesn’t change the fact that it’s still fucking Sunday and I have every right to be salty about it.”

That drew some snorts and smirks all around the room, plus a half-hearted “preach” from Sam and a sympathetic pat on the shoulder from Clint.

Fury -who had been working with this specific group of people for years now and was, to his dismay, more or less used to their antics by now- simply grumbled some expletives under his breath, choosing to ignore the bunch of snickering idiots -minus Steve, who was starting to look like a very tired grandfather- and activated the holographic display.

“Everyone-” he started once he was sure he had everyone’s attention- “meet our newest target.”

Silence fell as the presents took in the projection of one of the most intricate underground building most of them had never laid their eyes on, a seemingly infinite number of corridors, passages and crevices unraveling for miles and miles.

“Is that… a Hydra base?” Bucky asked.

Fury nodded.

“I thought we had taken them all out months ago,” Steve said, frowning.

“So did we,” Fury answered, “somehow, this specific base managed to stay undetected until not too long ago. There were rumors going around, passing mentions in confiscated documents that never amounted to anything important, but we never quite managed to locate it until now.”

“What changed?” Natasha asked.

“We think there was a leak of some sort -we found documents that confirmed the base’s existence and location, together with some encrypted files our best technicians are working on right now.”

Jenna raised an eyebrow. ”Well, that doesn’t sound suspicious at all.”

“She’s right,” Rhodey pointed out, “how can we be sure this is not a trap?”

“We can’t,” Fury admitted, “but we can’t ignore the threat this base poses either -there has to be a reason why Hydra made sure we wouldn’t be able to locate it.”

“Well,” Tony said, a grin on his face as he watched the hologram slowly rotate in front of him, “only one way to find out, right?”

+++

They left for the Nevada desert a few hours later.

“Okay, we’re officially en route!” Clint called out from the front of the quinjet, activating the auto-pilot mode, “we’re set to arrive in a few hours, FRIDAY will activate the invisibility cloak once we’re near the objective.”

“You know that’s not its real name, right?”

Clint waved Tony off with a grin, spinning his chair around. “Do I know? yes. Do I care? Not really, no.”

Jenna snickered, watching Tony pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Beside her, Bucky rolled his eyes, giving her arm a playful pinch. “Play nice.”

“Who, me?” Jenna said, batting her eyelashes in faux-innocence as she leaned in to leave a peck on Bucky’s lips, “I’m always nice.”

“No making out in the quinjet!” Tony called out.

“You’re not the boss of me!” Jenna called right back.

“Okay, kids, calm-down time,” Natasha said, stepping between the two as her mouth twitched upwards, “how about we concentrate on the task at hand, hm?”

They both grumbled something under their breath, but otherwise stayed silent. Natasha nodded approvingly and then moved back to her seat.

Of course, as soon as her back was turned, Jenna stuck her tongue out at Tony, who stuck his own right back. Beside him, Peter tried very hard not to snicker, hiding his grin behind his holographic pad.

“Do you guys think Steve is still pouting, back at the tower?” Clint asked suddenly, spinning on his chair over and over.

“Probably,” Tony shrugged, “and if you end up puking all over the floor I will throw you out of the jet.”

“Last I heard from Rhodey and Sam, he’s taken over the kitchen and doesn’t seem intent on leaving it anytime soon,” Natasha said, “at least we’ll have something ready to eat for when we get back.”

“Well, it’s not like we could bring him with us -the mission is to infiltrate the base, not destroy it while fighting everyone in it.” Jenna shrugged.

“We still brought Bucky,” Tony pointed out.

“At least he knows what “stealth” means,” Jenna quipped back.

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “I know I should feel bad for Steve, but you are absolutely right.”

“Okay, do we want to go over the plan one more time before we get there?” Tony asked.

“We split into teams, get in, grab the information we need and get out without making too much of a ruckus,” Clint dutifully recited, “I’ve got my doubts on the last point, I have to admit, but I think we all know what we need to do by now.”

“Get the information and try not to get killed in the process?”

“Exactly.”

Bucky sighed. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that, alright?”

+++

Of course, it absolutely came to that.

Jenna ducked behind another corner, barely avoiding being detected by the two guards sprinting down the corridor. She sighed in relief when their footsteps disappeared, taking a moment to breathe as she tuned into her headpiece.

“Three more incoming on your right!” Clint’s voice rang into her ear, followed by what sounded like Natasha grunting in effort. They seemed to be holding their own alright -same thing for Bucky and the others, it seemed, which made her sigh in relief as she worked out her next step.

“Tony,” she called into her earpiece, waiting for him to answer before going forward, “do you have my position?”

“That I do, sweetcheeks.”

The line gave a crackle, followed by Bucky’s voice. “Stark, don’t flirt with my girlfriend.”

Jenna shook her head, fighting down a smile. “Is there some sort of control room near where I am?”

“Let me check,” silence followed as Tony checked his map, “yeah, two corridors down to the left -it should be signed on your map.”

Jenna tapped her wrist, watching as her suit projected a miniature map in the air -and there it was, a tiny red dot blinking on and off to indicate her destination.

“Perfect,” she grinned, taking off.

Reaching the control room was relatively easy, most of the guards being currently occupied fighting the rest of the group on the other side of the base -no one had spotted her just yet, and she was very intent on keeping it that way.

She made quick work of the two guys stationed into the room, taking them down before they could even register her presence. Then, she moved towards one of the computers near the back, quickly turning it on.

“Okay guys, I have access,” she called into her comm.

“Nice work,” came Tony’s voice, “just plug in the drive I gave you and let FRIDAY do the rest.”

“Aye aye captain,” Jenna answered, grabbing the aforementioned drive from one of her suit’s pockets.

“Okay Fri, work your magic,” she muttered, plugging it in. Immediately, a loading icon appeared on the screen, advancing quickly to 20%.

“Come on,” she hissed, watching as it reached 50% and then 80% -she knew full well anyone could come into the room at any moment and discover the bodies of the two guards, and she wasn’t keen on being present when that happened.

Of course, luck didn’t seem to be on her side today.

“Shit, on your fifth!”

“Quick, someone stop him before-”

Suddenly, an explosion went off, the shockwave hitting the entire base. Fighting to keep her balance, Jenna rolled under one of the tables, hoping the entire room wouldn’t crash down on her. In her ear, her comm crackled with her teammates’ shouts and swears, and then silence.

It took a few minutes for the shaking to die down, and a few more for Jenna to feel safe getting out from under the table. She quickly turned towards the computer, sighing in relief when she saw it was still intact and functioning. The charging icon indicated 100% complete, and Jenna didn’t lose any time grabbing the flash drive and hiding it in her suit again.

There was no way she was losing it after all the effort it took to grab all of the information.

“Guys?” she called, tapping her comm, “guys, do you receive me?”

Crackling static was her only answer.

“Shit,” she swore -the explosion had probably disrupted the line. She just hoped everyone was alright.

Jenna turned, intent on getting out of there as soon as she could -she needed to let the others know the mission was complete.

However, before she could sneak out, the door got kicked open, four fully-armed guards charging into the room with their guns trained on her.

“I would stay very still if I were you, doll,” one of them sneered.

Well, fuck, was all Jenna could think before all hell broke loose.

+++

“Is everyone okay?” Tony called out, pushing some debris off.

“We’re okay!”, called Bucky from somewhere to his right, followed by another affirmative from Natasha and a displeased grunt from Clint.

“Does anyone have any news from the Spider kid and Jenna?”

Clint tapped his ear before shaking his head. “The comms are down.”

“Last we heard they were in completely different sectors from the one that blew up,” Natasha pointed out, “they’re probably okay.”

“They better be,” Bucky grunted, sitting up, “where’s the asshole?”

“Knocked out from his own explosion,” Tony answered, pointing to the slumped floor a few feet away from them, “he probably hit his head when the shockwave hit.”

“I hope he got a concussion, the fucker,” Clint grumbled, dusting his arm.

“Come on, let’s get out of here and find the others,” Tony said.

But before they could move, someone else entered the room.

“There is no need for that, Stark.”

Everyone in the room immediately trained their weapon on the man standing in front of the doorway -Dr. Weisser, Bucky’s mind supplied, recognizing the man from one of the files Fury had given them.

“I think you guys might want to rethink that approach,” the man said, grinning, “that is, if you know what’s best for you.”

“Try again, pal,” Clint barked, “it’s four against one, you’re not in the position to give any orders.”

“Oh, really?” Dr. Weisser cocked his head to the side, “and what about your friends?”

The four stiffened.

“My men found your lovely archer in one of the control rooms a few minutes ago,” he kept going, “and it’s only a matter of time before we find your other agent -a single spider can’t do much against a whole platoon of highly-trained soldiers, can it?”

He walked forward, grin never faltering even as his chest touched the tip of Clint’s arrow. “So I highly suggest you all cooperate, or your lovely girl might just in a rather unfortunate situation.”

“You bastard,” Bucky seethed, eyes flashing dangerously.

“Takes one to know one, doesn’t it?” Dr. Weisser shot back, “now, how about you all put down your weapons? I need to inform my superiors I have half of the Avengers under my control -I’m sure they’ll be delighted to hear such surprising news don’t you agree? Maybe they’ll even give me a promotion, who knows.”

Dr. Weisser reached into his pocket, grabbing what seemed to be a communicator. But before he could even try and turn it on, a white web came out of nowhere, snatching the device out of the man’s grip and attaching it to one of the walls at the far end of the room.

“What-!” was all the doctor managed to exclaim before another string of white fluid surrounded his body and reduced him to a ball of hard-as-steel, wiggling webbing.

“You know,” Spiderman called out from the ceiling, scratching his chin as he hanged upside-down, “this situation couldn’t be more cliché if you tried -a villain getting stopped because he lost too much time monologuing? Come on, dude.”

“You little shit,” seethed Dr. Weisser, “now the girl is gonna get it -guards!”

Peter shrugged, jumping to the ground. “If you’re talking about the guys in the control room, you can stop yelling -I think they’re taking a nap right now.”

“You bastard!” the man roared, struggling against Peter’s webbing, “how dare you-”

Natasha kicked him in the back of his head, sending him sprawling to the ground.

“What?” she shrugged when the others turned to look at her, “his yelling was starting to get annoying.”

“We better get out of here fast, anyway,” Peter said, “I’m pretty sure they called for reinforcements, and I don’t know about you guys, but I really don’t want to be here when they storm the place.”

“Wait, what about Jenna?” Bucky asked.

“She’s okay, don’t worry,” Peter assured, smiling under his mask as he watched Bucky’s shoulders sag in relief, “she’s waiting for us at the jet, we split up so I could find you guys.”

“Great job, kid,” Tony said, grinning proudly, “come on team, let’s get out of here.”

“God, you’re such a dad,” Clint snickered, shouldering his bow.

“Keep being a little shit and I’m leaving you here!”

+++

Jenna sighed as she entered the quinjet, quickly closing the hangar door behind her and moving towards the pilot’s seat.

“FRIDAY, get the engines on standby,” she called watching as the console lit up as she spoke, “as soon as the others arrive we’re getting out of here.”

Then, when everything was set up and ready for departure, she finally allowed herself to relax, slumping on her seat as she took off her glasses and dragged a hand down her face.

“Well, fuck,” was all Jenna could think before all hell broke loose.

A white web shot out from above and grabbed two of the guards’ weapons, snatching them out of their hands before they could even react.

Taking advantage of the men’s shock, Jenna quickly dove behind the nearest table, throwing it to the ground and using it as a makeshift shield.

“Wow, you guys are very bad at this!” a very familiar voice called from the ceiling, Spiderman’s suit appearing in front of everyone’s eyes.

Jenna grinned, grabbing her bow and knocking in two arrows. Then, as quick as lightning, she jumped out of her hiding spot, releasing the string and taking down two other guards.

“I’ve never been happier to see a spider before!” she called out, grabbing another arrow and hitting another target with deadly accuracy.

Peter laughed in response, swinging from side to side -he was way too quick for the guards to properly aim at him, and the tide was quickly but steadily turning in their favor.

Not even ten minutes later, Jenna and Peter were the only two left standing in the room.

“Since when you can become invisible?” Jenna asked, shouldering her bow.

“You liked it?” Peter asked, obviously proud, “I added the feature myself! I wanted to show it to Mr. Stark after breakfast, but then, well, you know what happened.”

“Kid, you’re a fucking godsend,” she grinned, smacking him on the back, “I’m pretty sure you just saved my life back there.”

“Oh! Um,” Peter stammered -Jenna was ready to bet all of her money the kid was blushing under his mask, “you’re welcome?”

Jenna laughed. “Come on, I’ve got the info we need -now we just need to find the others.”

“It won’t be easy,” Peter frowned, looking back towards the door, “the corridors are full of guards the more you go towards the center of the building -and I’m pretty sure that’s where Mr. Stark and the others are.”

Jenna hummed, pondering their options.

“Okay, new plan,” she finally said, giving Peter a mischievous grin, “how do you feel about putting that neat invisibility feature of yours a little more?”

If she has to be honest, Jenna is just glad Peter had appeared when he did -if he hadn’t she was pretty sure things would have gone south really fast for her.

“I’m never gonna complain about Stark bringing a teenager to our missions again,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Mr. Stark is on his way,” came FRIDAY’s voice, startling Jenna out of her thoughts.

She straightened up and adjusted her glasses, glancing out of the cockpit to see her teammates’ figures quickly approaching the jet.

“Open the hangar door and get ready for take-off,” she instructed.

A few seconds later, everyone quickly filed in, the door quickly closing as soon as everyone was accounted for.

“Let’s scram before anyone else decides to join the party.” Tony said, “FRIDAY, get us out of here.”

Jenna spun her chair around as the jet took off, grinning at her teammates. “So, what was what Fury said? Do not make a ruckus?”

Clint snorted, shaking his head as Natasha gave a small, amused smile.

As for Bucky, well, he simply stalked to Jenna’s chair and gently grabbed her, taking her into his arms with a relieved sigh.

Confused, Jenna put her arms around him, hugging him back. “Not that I’m complaining, but… are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Some douchebag threatened to hurt you if we didn’t cooperate,” Clint explained, “Thankfully, he made the most cliché error ever.” 

Jenna raised an eyebrow, leaning her head on Bucky’s shoulder. “Let me guess- evil monologue?”

“Evil monologue,” Clint nodded.

Jenna snorted, shoulders shaking in laughter. She looked up at her boyfriend, giving him a reassuring smile.

“I’m okay,” she murmured, pecking him on the lips, “Peter saved my ass before things got too bad.”

“Guess we all gotta thank him today, then,” Bucky hummed, leaning down to give her a proper kiss.

“Hey, no making out in the jet!” called Tony from behind them, “there are kids present!”

Jenna flipped him off, smiling into the kiss.

And as the jet brought them home, a hidden Hydra base in the middle of the desert blew up into tiny pieces.

So much for not causing a ruckus.