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angryschnauzer · 2 months

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Click - A Twisters Oneshot

Summary; As a storm photographer you know all the chasers, so when you run into two old familiar faces - where you have history with both - it proves to be a stormy night.

Fandoms: Twisters Movie, Glen Powell, Anthony Ramos.

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Female Reader x Javier (Javi) - MFM threesome.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut, Alcohol, Drug Use (Weed/Pot), Fingering, Oral Sex (Female recieving), Oral Sex (Blowjob), unprotected Vaginal Sex, Spitroast, Double Penetration, Double Vaginal Penetration, Spanking, Hair pulling, choking/air play, spitting in mouth, creampie, no discussion of consent, implied consent, impared judgment. Please don't do this in real life unless able to give consent.

I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, and you'll get an alert when i post new stories. Masterlist is available through my pinned post.

Authors notes; This is my first time writing for almost 18 months after severe writers block, and a whole load of truly horrible shit that has gone on in real life for me. Seeing Twisters has reinvigorated my passion for writing and it feels good to be able to be creative again.

Glen Powell Masterlist

Click

The bar was loud and smokey, country music in the background that could be heard between gaps in conversation or the crack of pool balls being split as another new game started. The air was filled with a heady mix of liquor and petrichor, rain imminent from what had been a frustratingly humid day.

Storm chasing was fun. The rush of adrenaline when the radar picked up those telltale colours on the satellite, but for the past 72 hours there’d been a whole lot of nothing on screen. Blue skies were pretty and all, but much like the atmosphere outside, there was a tension in the air that was only growing thicker by the minute. As a photographer you weren’t affiliated with any particular team of chasers, but with your skill renowned in the industry you could pretty much tag along with anyone you liked.

The sound of a scuffle across the bar drew your attention, the shrill ring of beer bottles knocking to the floor, the tell tale sign that tempers were fraying in the turgid atmosphere. Rolling your eyes and sighing you grabbed your beer and decided to stroll outside, not wanting to get caught up in an impending bar fight.

The air outside was a little cooler, a breeze having picked up, the scent of rain hanging thick in the atmosphere. Wandering the wide wrap-around porch of the bar you saw a familiar sight, smiling at the silhouette of an old friend, dark curls atop his head moving as he spoke with passion to another familiar face.

It was Tyler that spotted you first, nudging Javi who turned before a grin spread across his face;

“Well look who it is, our very own Click”

Laughing at your old nickname; one given where you’d had the habit of favouring traditional film cameras rather than digital, the sound of manual lens shutters is one that earned you the affectionate title.

You approached the pair, grinning as Javi swept you into a firm hug, one hand cradling the back of your head with the other arm tightly wrapped around your back as he lifted and span you, before setting you down on your feet again;

“It's been too long” he said with a grin before pressing a brief kiss to your cheek.

You’d spent almost a month with Javi a year or so back when he’d still been in the corporate side of Chasing, getting paid well where you’d been able to get some amazing images Storm Par could use on their marketing material and website.

The sound of a brief cough as someone cleared their throat behind you had you turning and meeting a wide smile;

“Tyler”

“Was wondering if you remembered me”

He pulled you into a hug, before pressing a gentle kiss to your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine.

“It's hard to forget someone who still hasn’t paid their invoice”

A flush of embarrassment tinted his cheeks as he pulled back, bashfully raking his hand through his hair;

“Shit”

“Hey hey” Javi cut in; “This dude owes you money?” he asked you.

“You know that awesome header image he’s got on the youtube channel? One of mine” you looked at Tyler who very much seemed like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole at that very moment; “All Chasers get the same terms; credit or payment. Its not credited, so he got sent an invoice and it’s still not paid”

Tyler reached out for your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles;

“I absolutely promise I’ll get it paid. And we’ll credit you too, we get so many comments from that image alone”

At that moment there was a ruckus as a small crowd of people came up the stairs from the street, calling out and greeting Tyler and Javi. It soon became clear it was the rest of their team. Most made a beeline for Tyler, to which you and Javi stepped aside and started to talk;

“So remind me again how you ended up going from Corporate Insurance Chaser to Hillbilly Youtube Chaser?”

He laughed, his eyes sparkling;

“You remember Kate? She kinda managed to convince everyone to be in it for the science, rather than the money or the glory”

“Well i never would of had you and Tyler Owens teaming up on my betting card for sure”

Javi laughed;

“Tyler’s awesome. He knows his stuff. And he’s loud enough to be in front of the camera to keep the audience entertained enough to let the rest of us actually do the science part. We work great as a team.”

Looking around you realised the team were a few people short;

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Up in Kansas City doing a presentation for the Mayor and Senators, hoping to get cooperation with some early warning systems we want to help provide the data for”

Nodding you sipped your beer as the pair of you settled into familiar conversation, the rest of Tyler’s crew welcoming you and soon the minutes passed into hours. Beers were replenished and Whiskey shots started to appear, before the tell tale scent of pot floated on the air. Sweet and cloying, you could tell it was leaf rather than resin, realising the joint was being passed around Tyler and Javi’s crew before someone slipped it into Javi’s hand. He grinned as he took a deep toke of the joint, holding it in before slowly exhaling, holding it out to you before you shook your head;

“I’ve got a better idea” you smirked; “Take another toke”.

A smile tugged at the corner of Javi’s mouth as he inhaled deeply from the joint again, the embers on the end glowing a deep amber red. He nodded and you quickly stood close, cupping your hands around his mouth as you pressed your own mouth to your hands and inhaled as he exhaled.

The buzz immediately hit you as the weed hit your oxygen starved brain, swaying on your feet before Javi wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close;

“Steady… let it flow through you, it’ll be strong”

Grinning and giggling softly you swayed on your feet, safe in Javi’s arms before finally regaining your balance.

“Ok, my turn now” Javi handed you the joint and you inhaled deeply, filling your lungs with smoke before nodding. He quickly stepped forwards, cupping his hands around your mouth and repeating what you had done, only this time he was close enough that you could feel his open lips against yours. Staring into those intense hazel eyes you could sense a hint of mischief, before he stepped back as he held in his breath. Finally exhaling he too swayed on his feet and you reached out to steady him, both now giggling.

“What are you two up to?” An amused voice asked.

Turning just as Tyler slipped the joint from your fingers, he inhaled deeply as he looked between you and Javi.

“Hotboxing” you replied with a grin.

Tyler wrinkled his brow before exhaling the smoke, moving his lips to form three perfect smoke rings before blowing the rest straight up through the middle of them;

“Hotboxing? I thought that was when you dropped a silent fart in a packed elevator?”

“Not where we’re from. Its when you inhale someones toke as they exhale, the lack of oxygen means the weed hit is more intense”

Tyler grinned;

“Okay, don’t believe that but i’m game”

He handed you the joint back and you inhaled again, before doing what he’d seen you and Javi do with your hands as he cupped your mouth and you exhaled. His eyes went wide as he held it, before stumbling a step backwards. He let the smoke out in a shaky exhale, his hands moving to your hips to steady himself. Overcompensating he then swayed forwards, pushing against you and into Javi, the railing of the porch catching him as you were sandwiched between the two men.

The three of you were in fits of giggles, the pot going to your brains before you finally managed to steady yourselves.

“Jesus christ on a bike” Tyler exclaimed; “That was intense”

“I can’t believe you’ve never done that before Dude” Javi laughed, turning to take a fresh round of beers from Boone, his goggles sat atop his head.

Boone signed like an old mother hen, before taking the joint from your hand that you had all but forgotten was still there;

“Ok i’ll have that back, thank you”

Giggling into your beers, you sipped on the drink, comfortable and content between two old friends.

It wasn’t long before the simmering tempers inside the bar bubbled over and spilled out onto the porch, the bar owner yelling that he’s shutting for the night and all the ‘damn Chasers’ could ‘fuck off home’.

Knowing when your welcome had run out the three of you drained your beers before stepping off the porch and down to the sidewalk.

“C’mon, we got a bottle of whiskey back at the motel” Javi wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you walked side by side.

“I’ll think you’ll find that's my whiskey, '' Tyler commented.

“Sharing is caring Tyler” you retorted back, met by his megawatt grin;

“Oh i don’t mind sharing”

At that moment you felt the first few droplets of warm summer rain to hit your skin, looking up as the clouds above finally relinquished their heavy load;

“What motel you guys at?”

“The Rodeo Econo Lodge, it's a couple’a blocks down”

“Sounds glamorous” you commented.

“Been staying there since my rodeo days” Tyler explained; “It’s clean, cheap, and the beds are comfortable”

“And they had enough vacancies so we didn’t have to squeeze four to a room” Javi added.

“Hang on, are you two roomies?”

Tyler nodded;

“Apparently we both ‘snore’”, which he waved his fingers in the air to emphasise quotation marks; “So the rest of the crew unanimously decided we had to bunk together from now on”

“Thus the whiskey” Javi added; “It helps me sleep through Tyler’s talking in his sleep”

“Says the guy that whines like a Golden Retriever in his”

You were by now laughing your ass off whilst getting soaked to the skin in the rain, chilled and relaxed before your mind caught up with half a thought you’d had a few moments ago;

“So you used to ride in the Rodeo?”

“Uh-huh, before college”

“Were you any good?”

Tyler smirked;

“Taught me some good life skills and how to ride hard when you got someone bucking beneath you”

By now you had reached the motel, Javi leading the way up the external staircase as you followed with Tyler bringing up the rear;

“Is that so?”

You felt the playful spank to your rump just as you reached the top of the staircase, quickly followed by Tyler wrapping his arms around you and his mouth against your ear;

“Play your cards right Click and you betcha”

Javi hadn’t been paying much attention, instead having to concentrate on keeping his hand steady enough to get the key in the door of their room, calling out in triumph as it swung open and he stepped into the dark room. As you and Tyler followed into the darkness you could hear Javi muttering about trying to find the lamp, but in that moment you had been spun around and Tyler's lips had found yours.

The kiss was hot and sloppy, his hands on your rib cage pushing your soaked shirt up your torso. His tongue pushed into your mouth and you tasted beer and whiskey in his embrace.

“What the fuck guys?”

You hadn’t noticed Javi had found the lightswitch, but he had obviously not been expecting to see Tyler getting to do what he’d wanted to do for a while. Before the situation could go south you pulled away from Tyler and closed the distance between Javi and yourself, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck to entwine your fingers in the soft curls at his nape, and you pulled him into a long awaited embrace.

You felt him tense, before softening into the kiss, his fingers gripping your hips as he pressed your bodies together and you could feel his need growing from the hardness pressing against your abdomen. When you finally broke the kiss to gasp for air, you smirked at him;

“I thought you said you two worked great as a team?”

You heard two quiet ‘oh’s , before a warmth pressed against your back as Tyler joined the pair of you.

“Fucking hell Click, you’ve no idea how hot that sounds”

Javi pulled you back in for another fierce kiss, this time his hands roaming the front of your body, pulling your shirt up and grunting his appreciation when he found your breasts to be free of a bra. Palming them in his warm hands his thumbs rubbed over your pebbled nipples, sending a wave of arousal straight to your core. At the same time Tyler’s hands found your hips, his long fingers pressing into your flesh as his soft lips found that sweet spot on the side of your neck just below your ear. He pressed his hips to your ass, rutting against you and you could feel his arousal insistently pressing against you.

As Javi’s lips left yours to press a trail of open mouthed kisses down your neck, he pulled away to give himself room to bend down and take one of your breasts into his mouth, that skilled tongue teasing your nipple before moving to the other. Tyler took the chance to cup your jaw and turn your head, kissing you with a clash of tongue and teeth.

Whilst Tyler had you occupied you hadn’t realised Javi had gotten to his knees in front of you until you felt his nimble fingers opening your jeans and tugging them down your thighs. Looking down you saw his eyes darken beneath his lashes before he pressed a kiss to your mound through your panties. As you held his gaze you felt Tyler rest his chin on your shoulder as his arms wrapped around your body. One hand cupped your breast as the other he held up and swirled two fingers in the air - the Chaser sign for tornado - to which you watched as Javi’s grin widened and he nodded as he did the same. But this time you knew those finger swirls meant something else.

You held your breath as Javi wrapped his fingers around the elastic of your underwear, pulling the soaked scrap of fabric down your thighs before he pressed his mouth to your slit. His tongue pressed through your folds before he found your clit, his fingers stroking your juices around the tight entrance between your thighs. He finally slid two fingers into your tight channel, the pleasure coursing through you as you rested your head back against Tylers wide shoulder.

Reaching your arms behind you, your palms welcoming the warmth of Tyler’s denim clad thighs beneath your hands, stretching a little further until you were able to cup him through the soft well worn denim. You wanted to feel more, more of their hands, their lips, their dicks, but felt restricted by your bunched clothing;

“I need to be naked” you gasped out, causing both men to pause their ministrations. They worked quickly together, Javi pulling your boots off before tugging your jeans and panties off in one, as Tyler yanked your shirt over your head.

Standing naked before these two men you started to paw at their clothing, pushing shirts off of shoulders and tugging white t-shirts from their pants. If ever there was a time where you wanted four arms it was that moment, desperate to feel their skin against your own. Whilst Tyler got caught up unbuttoning his shirt you made quick work of the button and zipper of Javi's pants, sliding your hand beneath the fabric of his underwear to wrap your fingers around his thick shaft. He gasped at your firm touch, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck before pulling you into a fierce kiss.

When you pulled away you glanced at Tyler who had pulled his boots off and was naked to the waist, his sculpted torso that of a marble statue. The metal clink of his belt buckle prompted you to move to him, unzipping him and sliding your hand inside the denim and beneath the dark jersey of his boxer shorts. Long and patterned with ridged veins, he was as hard as a rock in your palm, a soft whimper escaping his lips as you pumped his uncut dick.

He let his jeans and underwear fall to his ankles, cupping the back of your neck as you bent at the waist to take him into your mouth. Wrapping one fist around his girth you steadied yourself placing your other hand on his firm thigh, lowering your mouth to his tip to taste the bead of precum that pooled there. Pressing a chaste kiss to the smooth crown you opened your jaw to take him into your mouth, unaware your pussy was about to be stuffed. The firm push as Javi speared your hot channel pushed you forwards, forcing Tyler’s dick into your throat.

“Mmmmfffmfmmff!”

“A little warning next time huh Javi?” Tyler commented as he pulled back to allow air to actually reach your lungs; “but good god woman, your throat is a thing of wonder… no gag reflex”

You heard the sound of a high five but were too lust drunk to worry about it, too busy flying on a wave of pleasure as you were spit roasted between two hard cocks.

Tyler reached beneath you to cup your tits, grasping them as he moved his hips to fuck your mouth, a mixture of spit and precum running down your chin. At the same time Javi reached around your hip and searched out your clit, rubbing firm circles with two fingers against the sensitive nub whilst he fucked his thick cock into your dripping pussy.

Your orgasm caught you by surprise, your body shaking as you moaned around a mouthful of flesh. Your knees were close to giving out when Javi pulled out and brought you upright, his arms wrapped around your torso;

“Steady Click, don’t need you racing ahead off the radar for this” he kissed your neck whilst you reached out for Tyler. Stepping out of his jeans he closed the gap between you before sliding his hand between your legs, pushing two fingers into your soaked pussy;

“Such a lovely pussy, can’t wait to see it dripping with our cum. Gonna fill you to the brim. Do you want that?” his mouth brushed against yours as he spoke, but you could do little but pant like a bitch in heat.

You nodded, your mouth hanging open.

“Bed, now” Javi instructed, nodding for Tyler to lay down. You whined at the loss of Tyler’s fingers filling you but instead were treated to his tight ass as he crossed the room before laying on the bed.

“Come’ere Darlin. Climb on, i’ll teach you how to ride a bucking bronco”

Javi gave you a little push, almost the encouragement you needed to leave his arms. Climbing onto the bed you straddled Tyler’s thighs before crawling up his body. As you bent down to kiss him you heard the crack of the seal on a bottle of liquor, turning your head and seeing Javi drink straight from the bottle as he approached the bed.

As Javi climbed onto the bed, Tyler lifted your hips with one hand, steadying his cock with the other as he lined himself up before letting you sink down a couple of inches onto him. Javi straddled Tyler’s legs behind you, wrapping his arms around you before lifting the bottle to your lips. As you dipped your head back to drink from the bottle you felt his hand firmly on your shoulder, pushing you down to take Tyler to the hilt.

The whiskey hit the back of your throat and the rush was intense, the feeling of being filled by Tyler almost overloading your senses as he bucked like a steer beneath you. Javi breathed hot in your ear, his body pressed to your back. He took a large slug of whiskey before you pulled the bottle from his hand, taking another mouthful before leaning forwards. Tyler anticipated what you were doing;

“Yeah baby, spit it in my mouth” before opening wide to allow you to let the warm whiskey drip from your tongue to his. As soon as he swallowed you leant forwards and kissed him, sloppy with tongues and teeth, and you felt his cock slip out of you, landing wet and sticky on his abdomen. You weren’t empty for more than five seconds before you felt Javi push into you from behind, his palm coming down on your ass with a loud smack.

Riding you hard you were pressed between the two men, Javi filling you from behind as Tyler lay beneath you, his dripping shaft rubbing against your pussy as you were pushed back and forth. After what seemed to be an endless few minutes your arms were pulled behind your back as Javi held your wrists at the base of your spine. His lips on your earlobe;

“Get ready for the real rodeo”

With your attention on Javi you had lost sight of Tyler before you felt him angle his cock towards your already stuffed hole, as Javi seemingly lowered the pair of you until Tyler managed to slide in alongside him in your now overstuffed cunt.

“Such a good girl”

“Taking us so well”

Their praises merged into one as your eyelids fluttered shut, rocking your hips gently as your body grew accustomed to being double stuffed. As your arousal flowed from you your movements increased to the point both men were able to alternate thrusts, making sure there was never a moment when you weren’t full of cock. They filled and defiled your body until you were flying on an arousal high. Javi’s grip on your wrists faltered, your hands slipping free. As Javi pushed you down and Tyler fucked up into you, you curled one hand over your shoulder as Javi bit at your neck, curling your fingers through his dark curls. Glancing down at Tyler his normally pale green irises dark with arousal. He stretched his neck and you watched as the muscles shifted, his adams apple bobbed up and down. You rested your palm on his chest and he immediately wrapped his fingers around your wrist, nodding as he pulled your hand to his throat.

Realising that both your boys liked a little pain, you tugged on Javi’s hair as your fingers closed softly against Tyler’s throat, dual groans filling the room as they both thrust harder into you, pushing you ever closer to your release. Tyler grabbed your hips and started to pull you down harder onto him, Javi cupping your tits firmly as he fucked you harder from behind.

You were the first to cum, screaming out your release as if you were howling to the moon, Javi and Tyler following just seconds behind filling you with two thick loads of their creamy seed.

Releasing both men from your grasp you softly rested on Tyler’s chest as Javi pressed gentle kisses to your shoulders, before the latter pulled out. You felt a flood of cum seep from your stretched hole, soaking down to Tyler’s balls and onto the bed.

Some time later you were clean and showered, the three of you having squeezed into the tub and washed the sweat, whiskey, and cum from your bodies, before Tyler had discovered the bottle of whiskey discarded on his bed now half empty where the cap hadn’t been replaced. He had started to protest until you had slipped your hand into his and led him to the other bed - where Javi was already beneath the covers - and had silently confirmed you wanted to be close to both of them for the night.

Facing Javi whilst being the little spoon to Tylers big spoon, you sleepily said goodnight and muttered about finding your ride for the next storm.

“You should ride with us” Javi stated softly.

Letting out a quiet laugh you shook your head;

“You two combined? You drive like madmen, i’m scared of riding with you!”

Tyler pressed his lips to your ear;

“Well you know what I say…”

“If you fear it, ride it” they said in unison.

“And you’ve already ridden us both, so you’ve got nothing to fear” Tyler finished.

Letting a sigh you grinned and nodded, letting sleep take you as you were flanked by two crazy tornado wranglers.

#click #angryschnauzer #tyler owens fanfic #twisters fanfic #tyler owens x reader #glen powell #anthony ramos #tyler owen x you

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fourmoony · 4 months

Note

going lingerie shopping w JAMESSSSS

ty for requesting! f!reader, 1.2k, mdni

cw: suggestive, mdni

James can hear you shuffling around in the changing room, the clinking of hangers and your clothes landing in a pile on the carpeted floor. He'd thought you were teasing when you dragged him into the shop with you, cheeks rosy and your smile all knowing. But here he is, waiting for you to show him your top three picks of what he thinks are, essentially, scraps of lace. And you're expecting him to pick a favourite?

James thinks you look good in anything. Truly, you're the most beautiful woman he's ever met in his entire life. He questions himself daily on how he ever managed to secure you as his girlfriend. Not only are you stunning, but you're entirely too smart for him, and you have a brilliant, loving heart. You're everything James has ever dreamed of and he simply cannot believe his luck.

Especially when the dressing room door peaks open and he catches sight of the baby pink lace wrapped beautifully around your waist. Your eyes flick along either end of the hallway before stepping out fully and when you do, James' heart almost flatlines.

The intricate lace hugs your hips in a baby pink coloured dream, and when you spin, the lace dips into a thong. You look at James expectantly, but his eyes snag on the bra, pure lace that shows the darkness of your nipples and his mouth waters. "Holy shit." He lets out.

James isn't too ashamed to admit that the sight of you gets him going. The colour makes your skin look so smooth, matches perfectly with the tone, makes you look positively radiant. Your tits lift perfectly in the bra, sitting perky and James wishes that public fornication wasn't illegal because he has ideas.

"You like it?" You sound sheepish, cheeks a lovely shade of pink that compliments the lace adorning you.

You look the picture of innocence. James wants to ruin it.

"Like isn't a strong enough word, angel."

You laugh, "Okay, hot shot, keep it in your pants. Still two more to go." You tell James as you step back into the changing room and close the door.

"Why can't we just buy all of them? I mean asking me to pick a favourite is cruel." James speaks to the closed door, and he can imagine the amused smile you're giving him, the way you're probably naked and grinning and it's all getting a bit much for him.

"Because," You huff, the sound of a hanger clinking as you take the next set from it, "They're like super expensive. It's a nice little treat, but three is far too many."

James scoffs, folds his arms over his chest. You've spoken a little about James' family, their dynasty in the pharmaceutical industry. But he has a suspicion you live in denial of just how rich he actually is. "I'll buy you all three, baby. You deserve to be spoiled."

He doesn't have to see you to know you're rolling your eyes, ever the one to detest any sort of money being spent on you. You hardly allow James to pay for dinner, even when he asks you on the date.

The door swings open to reveal an emerald green set, this time. You're scowling at his suggestion, still, but you look no less beautiful. This time, there's no lace. Only string, with a scrap of silk to cover your modesty. The bra is made of silk, too. Your nipples press against the shiny material and James realises he really has to get a grip of himself. He gulps and the scowl lifts from your face.

"So the lace wasn't your thing?" You ask, lips tilting up.

James takes an involuntary step forwards, as though if he doesn't get his hands on you soon, he might very well die. "The lace was very much my thing. But this," His fingers twitch, eyes darkening, and James doesn't miss the tiny inhale from your parted lips, the way your eyes glaze over, "Baby, you're so fucking beautiful."

Your smile is saccharine like sticky honey, manicured fingers reaching forwards until they're brushing against James' forearms. His eyes shutter closed at the touch, a man gone mad, driven mad by his beautiful, sexy girlfriend in what he can only describe as the most pleasing lingerie set he's ever seen. "Thanks, Jamie." You whisper, and then you're gone.

James opens his eyes in time to see the round of your ass before the dressing room door slams shut, the sliver of emerald green string that disappears between your perfectly rounded cheeks. He has to stuff a fist in his mouth to stop from groaning loud enough for the entire shopping centre to hear.

The energy shifts, you're not joking or playful anymore, and James can tell you've worked yourself up in your endeavour to tease him. He thinks it serves you right. When the door opens for the third time, James can't breathe. This set is red, has thigh garters and a belt made of the most delicate, sensual mix of lace and silk James could ever imagine. The bra has underwire to support, but is fully lace where it covers next to nothing, and the underwear is so sheer, so small and barely covering you, that James bets all he'd have to do would be to blow hot air against it to have you writhing.

James is so hard he can't think straight. You look sinful, beautiful. He wants to rip the godforsaken lingerie off and simultaneously take his time, enjoy it. Your coy smile lets him know you're aware of his dilemma.

"What do you think, handsome? What ones your favourite?" You ask, leaning against the door jam of the changing room.

Your eyes have a shine to them. One that tells James you're as worked up as he is, that you're enjoying every minute of this like he is. He smiles, allows himself to get close to you in a serious exercise of restraint, and reaches out until your warm skin meets the palm of his hands. Your eyes flutter closed, your body relaxing at the touch. James palms at the skin of your waist, runs a gentle finger from the belt to the thigh garter and watches as your breaths shallow, as your lips quiver.

He bends, all the way until he's right by your ear, the smell of your perfume sweet in his nose, "I think you're gonna go get dressed, and then you're gonna let me buy you all three of these," He pings at the elasticated string of the red thong, marvels at the way you whimper, "And then we're gonna go home and make good use of them."

James dares his fingers to ghost along the lining of your panties, marvels when he gets low enough for you to have to grip onto him for support and finds you soaked. "Sound good, baby?" He asks, pulling away entirely.

Your body jolts at the loss of him, your eyes unfocussed and breaths shallow. "Yes." You manage to get out.

The changing room door slams shut behind you, and for the first time since James has ever known you, you manage to get changed in under a minute.

It's not until later, when there are scraps of emerald and baby pink lace and silk littered across James' bedroom, when you're curled into his side, sleepy and clad in red lace, that you admit to him you'd had every intention of buying all three sets. That the store doesn't allow try-on if you're not going to buy them. James can't bring himself to care.

#james potter #james potter imagine #james potter fic #james potter smut #james potter fluff #marauders #marauders fic #marauders smut #fourmoonys asks

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alltheirdamn · 3 months

Text

Chapter 1: Opening Day

Series summary: You've seen it all as the team's lead photographer. You're in the tunnel before the games, on the sidelines for each inning, and always around the players. When Frankie Morales is called up for the new season, you find yourself drawn to him in ways you can't quite explain. Chapter summary: It's opening day at Petco Park, and you finally meet the team's new star catcher. Rating: 18+ (Eventual smut) Word Count: 5k Tags: Triple Frontier AU, OFC! character described as having red hair and freckles, meet-cute, two big dummies bound to catch feelings, mutual pining, slow burn, future smut, duel pov, baseball terminology, etc. A/N: Hi!!! Well, welcome to the series! I'm really excited to share this lil story with you all. I've never really written an OC! before, so hopefully I don't totally butcher it. Anyway, I'm a bit nervous but please enjoy!

Masterlist | Baseball 101

Point. Click.

The camera shutter echoes through the stadium tunnel as you settle into your usual game-day routine. It’s your third year on the media team for the Padres, and you’re beyond eager for the new season to begin. Nothing beats the thrill of baseball season, and it definitely doesn’t suck when an endless array of beautiful men in tight polyester uniforms surrounds you.

Perched on the ground, you angle your camera down the tunnel to capture the boys as they arrive. Benny Miller, the team’s starting shortstop, waltzes through the hall after a few managers get their head start. He’s got on his usual athleisure wear, a workout bag slung over his back, and his blonde hair tousled in a way that’s both messy and intentional.

Point. Click.

“Welcome back, Benny,” you say, your camera angled a bit higher to adjust to his height.

“Hey to you too, Red,” he grins.

America’s heartthrob, you think.

Not far behind him is his brother, Will—or Ironhead, as they all call him. He’s been a vet on the team for nearly five years and is one of the top left-handed pitchers in the league. No doubt, with last season's standings, he’ll take them far this year. He’s got the best ERA out of any team in the National League, and his brotherly dynamic with Benny is unmatched. The only difference between Will and Benny, though, is their personalities. Where Benny is outgoing—and a bit flirtatious—Will is reserved and collected. He’s the voice of reason and the glue that holds the entire time together.

“Hey, Will!”

You snap a quick photo, all too aware of how much he hates the attention. He gives you a subtle nod and continues down the tunnel behind Benny.

Santiago Garcia is the next to make his entrance, his infectious smile perfect for a candid moment. Santi was the rookie outfielder last year, securing himself a spot in the All-Star Game with his defensive playing in center field against the stronger teams. You’ve never seen such an arm on someone, and the way he commands the field is wildly impressive. His gigantic ego and self-assurance are also quite impressive and sometimes a bit aggravating. But, you let it slide. He’s a sweet man through and through and has, thankfully, never hit on you.

Unlike the majority of the sports world.

Especially when it comes to women working in the media industry.

You’re convinced Santi has some sort of sixth sense for the camera because the moment you line up for the shot, he’s already sporting a wide grin directed straight at you.

“Hola, Red,” he says, waving in your direction.

“You know I have a real name, right?” You toss back.

“Whatever you say, Red.”

You roll your eyes as he walks past you, chuckling to yourself as you scroll through the photos logged into your camera. Making a mental note of which to select for the social media posts, you realign the camera back to eye level and squint through the lens.

The team's newest addition walks straight down the tunnel, with his head low and eyes covered by the visor of his ballcap. Francisco Morales had been called up from triple just a week before opening day. You hadn’t read up much on him or his stats, but you know he’s done quite the work as the catcher for the El Paso Chihuahuas. There had been talks of who they’d have replacing Tom Davis after his season-ending injury last year, and Francisco was their best prospect.

“Welcome to the team, Francisco!” You holler before snapping a photo.

He barely glances up, but you catch a rosy tint coloring the tanned skin of his face and a slight twitch in the corner of his lips. He’s dressed far differently than the other boys: loose khaki pants, a basic cotton shirt, and a suede bomber jacket. He doesn’t even carry a bag with him, just a plastic bottle of water gripped tightly in one very large hand.

You’ve been with the team long enough to know his personality is far more reserved than the rest, a bit sheepish and uncomfortable, even. Maybe that’s just the game-day jitters getting to him.

“Can I get one of you looking at the camera?” You ask before adding a polite please at the end.

He hesitates but ultimately obliges. Through the camera lens, you meet his eyes—the soft, warm brown of his irises boring into you so intensely it causes you to falter over the shutter button. Like any baseball player, he’s got that signature scruffy face, with a distinct mustache over his plush lips and a patchy beard covering his jaw. Despite his introverted demeanor, Francisco steals the air from your lungs just from a simple glance. It’s as if he’s giving you this one moment to capture who he is, and you take it without hesitation.

Point. Click.

“Thank you, Francisco. Good luck today!”

You’re acutely aware of how shaky your voice is, which is unusual given that he hasn’t even spoken to you.

“Frankie,” he offers as he walks past.

The raspy low pitch of his voice reverbs inside your head, and you only manage to nod in agreement to his wishes.

Frankie. You can do that.

“So, what are your predictions for game one?” Ryan asks, nudging you slightly.

You’re both crouched behind home plate shooting pre-game warmup photos, the volume in the stadium growing as more fans trickle in. You switch out your sim card and set up your camera for action shots, too focused on getting the right angle of the outfielders to respond.

Ryan has been your partner in crime on the media team since the start, and both of you got hired right out of college. While you focus more on the game-day action, Ryan usually tends to the off-day social media posts and team engagement with fans. It’s a fair trade-off, plus you’re far more invested in the sport than Ryan is ever willing to admit.

“Hellllooo?” He waves a hand in front of your camera lens.

“I don’t like giving predictions, Ryan. You know that,” you grumble.

“You and your weird superstitions, Red.”

“It’s not weird,” you counter. “Don’t you ever pay attention to the broadcasting curse? If I say something aloud, it’s bound to go the other way, and my hopes will be crushed.”

Ryan adjusts the focus on his lens, shrugging absently at your argument.

“It’s the first game. Even if they lose today, there’s still six months left in the season.”

“No one wants to lose their first game.”

“You care too much,” he says, but there’s a lightness in his tone.

He knows you care more than you let on. Baseball has been something ingrained in you since you were just a kid. Your dad spent the greater half of his life as the pitching coach for UCLA, dragging you to nearly every game of the season since before you could even walk. You were raised sitting in the dugout with a handful of sunflower seeds in your hand and a baseball cap covering your red hair. Being a part of a baseball team in some capacity had always been in your future, but after your dad passed away when you were just starting college, you centered your entire life around it. You threw yourself into photography, taking every chance at capturing moments that could give you just a second of nostalgia. The photos weren’t just for school, a baseball team, or a social media page… they were for you. It was your way of coping. The longer you could stay on the field, the longer you could live in that bubble of the past.

Your dad was gone, but you still had baseball. And you’d never give it up.

“Think Morales is gonna make his mark on the team?” Ryan asks, steering the subject in a different direction.

You tense up, locked on the memory of Frankie’s big brown eyes. There’s something about him that skyrockets your heart rate, and you aren’t sure if it’s in a good way. You search the field for those dark curls, looking at everybody on the field, trying to spot him during the warmup. Crestfallen, you give up your search and resume snapping photos.

“I think he’ll do just fine,” you say dismissively.

“His batting average in the minors was insane,” Ryan rambles. “Just hopes it sticks here in the big leagues. You know how it is sometimes.”

You did know. Too often, have you seen star minor league players appear on the big stage and choke. Something about Frankie Morales makes you believe he won’t end up like that. There was something in his eyes that told you otherwise, a seriousness that showed this game meant something to him.

You liked that.

“Where’s your station for the game?” Ryan asks.

“First base. I might have to step into the bullpen for some shots if they let me.”

“I’m sure the boys will love that,” he teases.

“Oh, fuck off. They’re harmless.”

“I don’t know, Red. I see the way they look at you.”

You deadpan, giving him an icy stare. None of the boys thought of you that way, and you didn’t think of them differently. This was a job. They played the game; you took the photos.

That was the end of it.

“I think you’re seeing things,” you argue.

“I mean, Benny is giving you fuck me eyes from across the field right now,” Ryan shrugs.

You steal a glance out to the in-field to find Ryan is, in fact, correct. With his free hand, Benny tosses you a flirtatious wave before throwing the ball back to Santi across the field.

“He flirts with everyone,” you say pointedly. “Did you see how many girls he brought back to his hotel rooms last season?”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind adding one more.”

You punch Ryan in the arm, clearly annoyed with his pushy behavior toward the subject. Grabbing your equipment bag from the ground, you toss him a quick finger and haul your stuff down to the media room under the stadium.

Frankie isn’t in the right mindset when the National Anthem concludes before the game. He’s not one to get nervous before playing, but something about seeing Petco Park sold out for opening day has him fidgeting. The only saving grace is having Santi playing alongside him.

He and Santi met back in college, playing together from Sophomore year until Senior year when they got drafted to different teams. Santi was selected in the third round by the Houston Astros and was traded a year later to the Padres. Frankie got drafted by the Padres right away in the fifth round. He spent the last four years in the minors, just waiting to get called up.

Now, the moment is here, and he’s terrified.

Frankie doesn’t like to admit it often, but he holds himself to a higher standard. He’s fucked up in life a few times, and it’s cost him his happiness. He doesn’t want to fuck up now. Not when the entire world is watching.

“Estás bien?” Santi asks Frankie as they head into the dugout.

“I’m fine,” Frankie says, but his tone says otherwise.

There’s a haze over his mind, a fog he can’t shake. Santi claps him on the back, giving him a comforting smile.

“It’s just first-game nerves, Catfish. It’ll pass after the first at-bat.”

Frankie doesn’t respond. He’s got a lump in his throat, and he can’t quite swallow it. The last thing he wants to do is disappoint his closest friend—or the team. He can’t be a disappointment. He has to be good. He has to be the best.

He has to prove himself.

Frankie runs out onto the field, securing his catcher's mask over his face. The weight of his gear feels like a comforting anchor, leveraging him to keep his mind focused. There’s a roar from the crowd as he takes his place behind home base, and the applause and cheers only make things worse. He’s under the lights, he’s got thousands watching, and this is his one shot.

The first pitch comes fast, a sinker that falls perfectly into his glove. Strike one. Will is on the mound, his face stoic and focused on the batter standing to the right of Frankie. There’s still some trust to gain between them both, and Frankie hopes he proves himself today. Will throws a slider next, down low and right past the bat.

Strike two.

Like a well-rehearsed dance, Frankie and Will waltz between batters. An easy one, two, three, and they’re out of the top of the first. Frankie runs alongside Will as they head toward the dugout, the tension in his shoulders relaxing.

“Great job out there, Morales,” Will says. “Welcome to the show.”

“Thanks, Miller. You’re solid on the mound. Those sliders are insane,” Frankie commends.

“Gotta keep them on their toes. Now, get ready for the bottom of the inning. Show them what you can do out there.”

As Frankie steps into the dugout, he nearly collides with a body nestled into the corner of the steps. Her red hair is tousled into a ponytail, the bill of her Padres ball cap shielding her eyes from the setting sun.

“Shit, sorry,” she mumbles, stepping out of the way.

He recognizes her from earlier, the media girl in the tunnel. Frankie was so wrapped up in his thoughts earlier he hadn’t noticed how beautiful she was: bright eyes, a gentle smile, and a face covered in freckles.

“All good,” he huffs, too flustered to choke out any more words.

“You look good out there,” she smiles.

Frankie runs a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, no doubt looking a mess. He needs to focus—needs to move—but he can’t seem to make his way past her.

“Be careful with Akin’s pitches,” she adds. “He tends to throw his fastballs up in the corner of the zone.”

“Thanks,” Frankie nods. He’s surprised at how much she pays attention.

“Yo! Catfish!” Santi calls from down in the dugout. “Get your ass over here now.”

“I’m assuming you’re Catfish?” She asks.

“Unfortunately,” Frankie grumbles. “Sorry, I’m just gonna go see what he wants.”

“It’s all good. I’m moving down to first base, so I’ll be out of the way.”

She rises to her feet and gives Frankie one final smile before stepping onto the dirt. Frankie watches as she walks away, her ponytail swinging behind her with every step.

Focus.

Halfway through the batting order, you’re already onto your next sim card. You usually space out the amount of footage you take, but the game is electric. The Padres are up three to zero, thanks to a home run from Benny—obviously—and a few quick plays made by Santi and Chris Holmes.

With two outs in the sixth, Frankie is up to bat. His first plate appearance was abysmal, with a groundout to third base. You saw his shoulders slumped as he walked off the field; he didn’t take it lightly. It’s just the first game, you tell yourself. He’ll do just fine.

Akin throws the first pitch, a fastball, just as you expect. Frankie takes the strike and readjusts himself for the next pitch. It’s outside the zone, and he tracks it carefully. You hold your breath as he hits a full count, three balls, two strikes… and wait. Akin places a screwball down low, but Frankie manages to get a piece of it and sends it sailing into center field for a double. You startle yourself with how loud you cheer, watching his muscled body run past first and onto second base. You’re so caught up in watching him you forget to snap a photo.

You scold yourself for missing the opportunity to capture his first hit for the team. Why are you so fixated on him? None of the other guys have ever caused you to miss a shot; no one has ever tripped you up this badly. But Frankie… there’s just something about him. He’s not self-assured like the rest. He’s not cocky in the slightest. Honestly, he looked terrified when you ran into him after the top of the first inning. Before your mind starts wandering off, you check the settings on your camera and return to shooting footage.

The team wins five to zero. Fireworks sparkle through the night sky as the stadium begins to clear out, and you start to return to the dugout. Benny and Will are in a tight embrace as you step under the awning, your camera gear slung over your back.

“Great win, boys,” you say, giving them each a high five.

“Did you ever doubt us?” Benny teases, giving you a smug grin.

“Not for a minute.”

The Miller brothers make their way down into the clubhouse, leaving you standing alone in the dugout. You peel off your ballcap and remove your ponytail, letting your hair fall down your shoulders.

“Thanks for the advice on Akin.”

The voice startles you, and you search through the shadows to find Frankie sitting alone at the end of the bench. He’s got his glove resting beside him and his bat propped between his feet. He should be celebrating with the team down in the clubhouse, yet he’s here by himself under the stadium lights and swirling shadows.

“I’ve got plenty more if you ever need it,” you tell him.

Frankie doesn’t respond, but his eyes stay locked on yours. The stadium lights illuminate the rich chocolate inside his irises, making it nearly impossible to look anywhere else.

“Shouldn’t you be with the team?” You wonder. “I’m sure they’re all celebrating the first win of the season.”

“Just wanted some time alone, I guess. Soak it all in, you know?”

You walk toward him, cautious on whether or not to get any closer. You aren’t sure if he even wants company, but you can’t seem to steer yourself away.

“Was it everything you hoped for?” You ask.

“It could’ve been better.”

Frankie moves his glove into his lap, offering you a space beside him on the bench. Though you feel reluctant, something inside you forces your legs to move. You want to be nearer to him, to get close enough to see past this wall he’s built up. You’re used to some players being quiet and shy, like Will. At least with Will, though, he’s fun when there’s no stress on his shoulders. He relaxes a bit from time to time and lets his guard down. Something you’ve yet to see with Frankie.

Sliding onto the bench beside him, you adjust your camera into your lap and lay your ballcap over your knee. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Frankie’s head tilt slightly, his eyes trained on your legs. There’s still a healthy gap between you both, yet the warmth of his body swarms around you.

“Are you with the team full-time?” He asks.

You glance at him, studying the way his hair curls around his ears and at the base of his neck. There’s a tension in his jaw that flexes under his beard, a simple twitch that happens after every time he speaks. Despite the timid exterior, you can’t help but to notice the softness in his eyes when he looks at you.

“Mostly just for home games,” you explain. “I only really travel with the team if they invite me on the road. They like having extra media presence for the bigger series, and whatnot. If I could be at every game, I absolutely would. Sitting on the sidelines beats having to watch it on the TV or listening to the radio.”

Frankie nods along as you talk, his lips pursed as if he’s thinking of what to say. Avoiding any more awkward silence, you flick on your camera and scroll through the photos, presenting him with a few you’d taken during his first appearance at the plate. His arm brushes yours slightly as he leans in closer, staring at the photo far longer than you expect.

“I kind of fucked up and forgot to take a photo of you after that double in sixth,” you admit. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” he shakes his head. “I like this one.”

It’s a photo of him swinging at a curveball, his bat posed perfectly in the center of the box, and his muscular thighs flexed under his pinstripe uniform. You have to admit, it is a good shot—and he looks amazing mid-swing. Your eyes flick up to his, realizing he’s already looking at you. Thank God for the shadows inside the dugout, or else Frankie would see the way your face warms at his words. You don’t ever share your footage with the guys until it’s posted on the social media pages, but it feels different with Frankie. It strangely feels nice.

“I feel like an asshole, I don’t think I’ve even asked for your name,” he says.

“The guy’s normally just call me Red,” you shrug.

“But that’s not your name.”

You tell him your name, and listen to his gentle voice echo it back. It’s rare you hear your name nowadays. Everyone just refers to you as ‘Red’, like it’s who you are. It doesn’t bother you, necessarily, but finally hearing someone acknowledge you makes your stomach flip. Frankie’s eyes never leave yours, and you realize how close you both have gotten. His leg is pressed against yours, and you can still faintly smell the turf on his uniform. He must notice it, too, because he clears his throat and shifts his legs inward. Shutting your camera off, you let it rest in your lap between your hands. There’s a quiet buzz between your bodies, a comfortable cocoon of shared silence that seems to swell with each passing second.

“I, um, I should probably head down there with the guys,” Frankie says after a while.

“Yeah, of course. I’m sorry if I kept you too long.”

Frankie rises from the bench, his thick fingers wrapping around the neck of his bat. He offers you a hand, and you shrink under his height as you move to stand.

“I didn’t mind the company.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his face, just an easy curve of his lips as he stares at you a moment longer. You should move. You should definitely move.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Frankie,” you say. “Great job out there tonight.”

“Thank you.” He says your name, again, emphasizing it as if to prove a point. A gentle reminder that you’re more than just a nickname.

“What took you so long, Catfish?” Santi yells from across the clubhouse.

He’s already showered and got on his casual clothes for the drive home, something Frankie should have been doing. Instead, he had been helplessly wasting time sitting next to the photographer he had seen around all day.

Frankie tears his baseball cap off his head, tossing it into his locker as he unbuttons his uniform. He’s still mentally picking apart the day—what he did wrong, what he could improve on—but in each thought, her shiny red hair and doe eyes make a reappearance. Shaking his head, he strips off his undershirt and searches through his stall for a fresh one.

“Got to chatting with the team photographer,” he says, shrugging the shirt over his chest.

Santi leans against the locker stall, his mouth quirked up in a teasing grin. Frankie already knows what he’s going to say, and he regrets ever mentioning it.

“Distracted by Red, huh?” Santi teases. “She’s got that affect.”

“She’s not distracting,” Frankie defends. “She just came down to show me some of the pictures she took, and we talked a bit. That’s all.”

He hopes his clipped words are enough to steer Santi away from the conversation, but Santi can see right through him.

“Red never shows anyone her photos. None of us ever see what she’s got on that camera until they’re online.”

For some reason, Frankie loves knowing he’s the exception. He saw the way she lit up as she scrolled through the footage, clearly proud of her work. Hell, he doesn’t even care she missed his big play. She spent that time in the dugout with him while his mind was a mess, and gave him a reprieve from the clouded thoughts that the game left him with. Was it awful that he was only looking forward to tomorrow’s game so he could see her again?

“Maybe she feels bad for me, I don’t know,” Frankie huffs.

He slips on his jacket and runs a hand through his hair before putting on his hat. Santi watches him suspiciously, tracking the tense movements Frankie makes as he gathers his stuff to leave.

“She’s a nice girl, you know, and she knows her shit, too. Hell, half the guys have tried to grab her attention the last few years, and she’s never been interested.”

“What makes you think she’s interested in me?”

“I don’t know,” Santi drawls out the words. “Guess we’ll just have to see what she posts tonight.”

Frankie rolls his eyes, shoving past Santi and out of the clubhouse. He steers clear of the other guys as they walk together out to their cars. No one has said much to him yet, and he’s okay with it. Frankie knows he’s the new guy and it’ll take some time for everyone to warm up to him. The only person that seems to be welcoming so far, was Red. Maybe that’s just who she was, but Frankie found himself working Santi’s words over and over inside his head. Red never shows anyone her photos. What made Frankie so special, then? Was he right to think she felt bad for him? If she hadn’t been interested in anyone else, then why did she spend that time with him?

The apartment is pitch black when Frankie opens the door. Flicking on the lights, he takes in the empty space. Moving boxes scatter the hallway, leading into the renovated kitchen. Frankie barely got the keys to his new place in San Diego two days ago, leaving him little time to settle in before opening day. After this series he’ll be on the road for a week, without any time to get acclimated. Traveling never bothered him, but he wished he could just stop and breathe for one minute. You wanted this, he reminds himself. He’s worked too hard the last several years to let this opportunity pass. The boxes can wait, at least for now.

Tossing his jacket onto the back of the sofa, Frankie slumps against the cushions, scrubbing a hand over his face. He’s been itching to look at his phone since he left the stadium, but he held off. Guess we’ll just have to see what she posts tonight. Digging out his phone from his pocket, Frankie opens Instagram and refreshes the page. Sure enough, the media team already made a post-game slideshow…with Frankie’s at-bat being the first photo.

The same one he told her he liked the most.

His thumb hovers over the post as he debates whether or not to look at the rest. He’s already got his one photo, there wouldn’t be any need to give fans more. Yet, as he slides his thumb left over the screen, there’s another photo of himself—from the pre-game walk through the tunnel. Even though his eyes are staring directly into the camera, he knows that wasn’t what he was looking at. His entire focus had been on the girl behind the camera.

Frankie opens the team’s Instagram page and scrolls through the ‘following’ tab, searching for her name. It’s just innocent curiosity, that’s all it is, but as he finds her name down the list, he’s tempted to press the button. The blue Follow button taunts him, begging him to make the move. Her profile picture is a simple mirror shot, half her face covered by her camera. He wants to see more, like this odd desperation to know her past the lens she hides behind. Before he talks his way out of it, Frankie taps Follow, and sends his phone sailing across the room. It hits the carpet with a soft thud, and sits there silent on the ground. He tips his head back against the couch, pitching the bridge of his nose. God, he feels stupid.

A soft buzz resounds through the room. Frankie slides his eyes toward his phone, seeing the carpet illuminated by the screen. Just a coincidence, he thinks. Despite the denial he spews inside his mind, he moves from the couch to retrieve his phone.

Red has accepted your follow request.

Red started following you.

Frankie stares at the screen with a stupid grin on his face. He scrolls through her page, finding a surplus of photographs of the stadium, the beach, and a few cityscape shots from various cities. There isn’t a single photo of her, though. He studies each photo, wondering what she saw through the lens of the camera, wishing he could see just one of her face. As he makes his way down her page, a message notification pops onto the screen.

Red: I hope it’s okay I posted that photo of you.

Frankie: Absolutely.

Red: Ok, good. I liked it, too.

Frankie: Santi told me you don’t show anyone your photos.

Red: Of course he did. LOL. I’m just protective over my work. I like to keep things private.

Frankie: Why’d you show them to me?

Frankie watches as text bubbles appear and disappear over and over for at least a minute. He half considers turning his phone off for the night to avoid her response. He shouldn’t care why she showed him, but the thought of it would keep him up all night, wondering why he was deserving of it and not anyone else. His phone buzzes in his hands, and Frankie quickly opens the message.

Red: I don’t know. You’re the only person I really felt like sharing it with.

Frankie: I feel honored. Any time you want to share them, I’m always around.

Red: I’m holding you to that.

Frankie thinks of a million things to reply with, but his fingers don’t move; all he can think about is seeing her again tomorrow.

#triple frontier fic #triple frontier au #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #baseball!frankie #frankie morales x ofc #baseball!frankie x ofc!red #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie catfish morales fic

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agaypanic · 2 months

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Every Night (Spider-Man!Chase Davenport X Reader)

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Summary: Chase Davenport is a Mission Creek High student who takes pictures by day, and a bionic web-slinging superhero who fights crime by night. Tonight, he swings by your place with a split lip, a bruised rib, and a wounded ego.

A/N: holy shit an actual fic instead of a shitpost, who would’ve guessed? spiderman au where chase is spiderman bc 📖anon and i agreed that chase davenport is totally peter parker coded (specifically andrew garfield’s). side note: if this was a full avengers au, chase would be spiderman, davenport would be iron man, adam would probably be thor, bree would be black widow, and leo would probably be captain america or the hulk (it’d be funny to see him go from this little stick figure to a giant beefy mutant man). This is most likely not medically accurate

***

“Hold that,” Chase muttered just loud enough for you to hear, adjusting the settings on his new camera. “Stay still.”

“Chase, lunch is gonna be over soon.” You teased, but still held your position as requested.

You heard your boyfriend take a picture, and then a few more. There were a few more flickers of the camera shutter before Chase got up and rounded the picnic table to sit next to you. “What do you think?” Chase asked, showing you the couple of pictures he had just taken.

“I think you make me look really pretty.”

“Nah.” Chase shook his head before kissing your cheek. “That’s all you.”

“Big flirt.” You smiled, taking the camera out of his hands and setting it on the table to kiss him without interruption. Unfortunately, the school bell didn’t get the memo about you wanting to be undisturbed. Chase pouted when you pulled away, making you laugh. “Will I see you tonight?”

Chase stood up, grabbing his camera and your hand. “You always do, babe.”

***

Chase was right; you always did see him. But your question should have been whether he’d come through your front door as Chase Davenport or through your window as Spider-Man. The follow-up question would have been whether or not he’d be bloody and bruised.

Unfortunately, the answer to both questions were the latter options tonight.

“You’re lucky my parents aren’t home,” you said as you helped your boyfriend into your room, trying to avoid the blood-saturated parts of his suit. “Who was it this time?”

“Green Goblin.” Chase winced, plopping down on your bed while he clutched his side. You grabbed the little first aid kit that you kept under your bed ever since finding out about your boyfriend’s super identity. “I was doing my patrol when he just flew by out of nowhere. I didn’t even feel him coming.”

You could hear Chase’s disappointment in his voice as he recounted the events. The fight was difficult, as the wounds you were helping him clean up proved.

After wiping the blood off his chin from his split lip, you scooted back a little and gestured to Chase’s chest. “Suit off.”

“At least buy me dinner first.” Chase tried to laugh but instead groaned in pain as he pressed the spider emblem on his suit that loosened the once skin-tight fabric. You helped pull the suit off enough to reveal Chase’s chest. It was bruised, sweaty, and heaving. “Hey, my eyes are up here.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes from his teasing and continued tending to Chase’s wounds. “You know, sometimes I wonder why you don’t go to Mr. Davenport for this. I’m sure Davenport Industries has actual nurses, or at least better medical supplies than a homemade first aid kit.”

Chase’s hand, a little shaky from his exhaustion, cupped your cheek, making you tear your eyes away from his purpling side. “I always visit you every night. A little beating isn’t gonna stop me from that.”

You scoffed. You wouldn’t exactly call this a ‘little’ beating. “Okay, but if you get some kind of infection or lifelong medical problem, don’t blame me.”

The rest of your aid was accompanied by silence. You were focused on cleaning Chase up to the best of your abilities, while he was focused on your focus. He wished he had his camera to capture the moment, ignoring the fact that he was wounded and in pain.

“Done,” you said after a long half hour. “Now, go take a shower. You’re all sweaty and gross.”

“I didn’t hear you complain when you were staring at my glistening abs.” Chase teased as he slowly stood up, kicking his suit off so he was only in his boxers.

You playfully swatted at him. “Just go. I’ll have a movie ready when you’re done.”

“And snacks?” Chase looked over his shoulder, looking at you with a pleading look. You nodded, following him out of your room, parting so he could go to the bathroom and you to the kitchen.

“And snacks.”

#agaypanic #chase davenport x reader #chase davenport #lab rats x reader #lab rats #spiderman au #spider man #spiderman

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starhvney · 5 months

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𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟓.𝟓: 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑

𝐂𝐖: none? zane's a butt but we knew that already.

𝐀/𝐍: kinda short compared to the other chapters but we love the ro'meaves so i had to include this episode :)

𝐖𝐂: 3,700 +

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑: @arienic

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒

“holy crap, that’s their house?!” you exclaim, leaning forward as your wide eyes ogle at the house—no, mansion—that the car is pulling into the driveway of.

“oh yeah.” sylvanna looks back at you, her eyebrows waggling. “garte owns a really successful business, the ro’meave corporation. he’s in retail and the landowning industry, and business really started booming for him a couple of years ago. you didn’t know?”

you shake your head, tearing your eyes away from the stunning tall trees, huge front yard, and the beautiful brick house to sylvanna. her beautiful teal dress hugged her perfectly, and the gold she used to accessorize perfectly complemented her skin. she leans back towards you, whispering in your ear with a mischievous grin.

“you should marry one of the boys one day and then you can live in a mansion,” she giggles, before leaning away with a wink and sticking out her tongue to show you she was just joking. “just kidding. you’re not allowed to date until you’re thirty, either.”

you laugh, feeling your cheeks burn a bit as you shake your head. aphmau narrows her eyes at the two of you suspiciously before stepping out of the car, with the two of you following behind. the home was colonial style, with black shutters and vines growing up the front.

you glance back at your friend, who is drooling equally as hard as she takes in the scenery.

“what a humble little place.” you shrug haughtily, earning a wary warning glance back from your mom.

aphmau’s eyes are still wide when she shakes her head in disbelief.

“they gave off rich vibes but i didn’t expect this.”

“at least they’re humble?”

zianna greets you all at the door, wearing a beautiful coral dress, a dainty gold wristwatch, and matching gold jewelry. her hair is styled into a beautiful curl blowout, and her green eyes are outlined by dark lashes and elegant eyeliner.

you can see where the boys got their looks from, noticing a similar pout in the full lips and the long thick lashes in the woman before you. you’re starting to wonder what the dad looked like.

“ahh! i’m so glad you guys could make it!” she excitedly ushers you in, your feet landing on beautiful dark polished hardwood floors.

your eyes look around at the tall ceilings and rounded archways into separate rooms, the closest one looking like what was probably the living room. your eyes trail up the large staircase in front of you, landing on garroth who had come down to greet you.

he wore navy blue slacks and a nice button-up shirt, rolled up to his elbows along with the unbuttoned navy blazer he paired with it.

you’re glad you wore a pretty dress, now.

“don’t you two just look gorgeous!” your vision is covered by zianna, who smells like rich perfume as she admires you. “don’t you think, gar-gar?”

he makes it to the bottom of the flight, smiling at everyone.

“yes, they’re all gorgeous.”

“if you two wanted to marry one of my boys i’d totally let you!” garroth’s ears turn red at his mom’s words, and he steps over to greet your dad with a solid handshake.

“then we’d all be related!” mom and sylvanna squeal along with her, before beginning to shuffle their way into the kitchen to finish dinner.

“gar-gar, why don’t you give the girls a house tour while us moms have our girl talk in the kitchen?”

you turn to notice your dad already walked off somewhere, probably to find garroth’s dad?

“yes ma’am.” garroth sighs, before turning to you and aph. “at least with a house tour we won’t have to listen to the three of them.”

aphmau sighs. “yeah, seriously.”

garroth turns back to where he came, gesturing at the staircase as he strides up to them.

“here’s the stairs—“

“wow!” you and aphmau drawl out in unison, sarcastic wonder on your faces as you both applaud him.

he slowly turns to the two of you with a smile, the corners of his mouth downturned in embarrassment.

“shut up…” he giggles, before trekking up the steps.

you two follow behind in a fit of giggles, following behind your blonde tour guide. he turns to the first door in the long, wide hallway at the top of the stairs.

“this is zane’s room.” he turns the doorknob before using his foot to kick the door the rest of the way open. “hey baby brother!”

zane tumbles off of his chair in surprise, a loud yelp coming from his lips.

“garroth!” he yells in annoyance. “can’t you see i’m in the middle of something?!”

you peek in the room. the walls were darkly painted and the furniture was a dark—almost black wood. shelves were lined with collectibles from video games and shows, some that you were familiar with, some not. across from his bed was a large tv, and next to it a desk with a gaming pc. the small avatar on the computer screen begins taking damage, to which zane groans, scrambling for his mouse and keyboard to fight the monster off.

“why don’t you come downstairs and pause the game?” garroth quips back, staring unimpressed at the screen.

“it. can’t. be. paused.” he slowly turns his head towards the three of you, freckled face crinkled in irritation. “i’m in the middle of a dungeon. get out! i’ll come down when i want to!”

garroth holds his hands up in surrender, backing up out of the room and closing the door behind him. he turns back to you and aphmau sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“sorry about him. he’s, uh… well, he really likes to isolate himself.”

you shrug, lips pressed in a thin smile. aphmau shrugs too, mentioning how zane was at least right about not being able to pause mmo games.

“ah, well i wouldn’t really know about that. i’m not into games as much as he is—i usually only ever play console games.”

“what do you play?” you ask, hoping your tone wasn’t too eager as you follow him down the hall towards another room.

“oh, well i think legend of zelda is fun—“ he interrupts himself by entering the door of another room. “hey, vylad.”

vylad sighs, glancing over from his bed as he sits perfectly straight, legs crossed and breathing evenly.

“you really have a problem with knocking, garroth.” he breathes in before exhaling, glancing over at you girls behind the intruder. “hey.”

“sorry baby brother.” garroth steps in further as vylad gives up on whatever meditating he was in the middle of, getting up and looking around his room.

the walls were a calming shade of forest green, quite similar to the boy’s eyes. a lot of his decorations were made of what looked like raw birch, continuing the natural theme. the only lighting in the room was the sunlight shining through the windows and a few candles that had been lit. they gave off a refreshing scent, making the whole room cozy and relaxing.

“i love your room, it’s so calm…” you compliment, trying not to look too amazed at how soft and comfortable his bed looked, as it was covered in the fluffiest duvet and pillows you’ve ever seen.

“thanks!” he grins.

now that you look at him, he really did look way more like his mom than his brothers. he wore some dark brown slacks with a loose linen shirt, looking like a young academic ready to teach his own class.

“i’m giving them a tour, wanna come along?” garroth asks, fiddling with a rubik’s cube from vylad’s dresser.

vylad stretches and shrugs, blowing out his candles and following the three of you to the door.

“well since i was so kindly interrupted in my meditation, why not?”

garroth sheepishly chuckles, making his way to the room directly across from vylad’s. “i said sorry…”

“you know, when you’re older if you don’t break this opening-doors-without-knocking habit it’ll turn into actually breaking down doors a habit in the future.”

“okay, that’s a bit exaggerated” he shakes his head. “i’m kinda strong, but not enough to break down a door with one push. besides, that’s just plain rude.”

“if you trained you could, i could see you being a firefighter. they do that, right?” you offhandedly note, stepping into what you now assume to be garroth’s room.

the walls are a muted shade of blue, reminding you of a color you’d see in a beach condo, complemented by ivory shades of white on his bed and some hints of yellow throughout the rest of his furniture. it was pretty clean and put together, aside from a pile in the corner that had sports jerseys and equipment spilling from a gym bag.

there were a few posters up, some from different song artists and bands, others of some console games—one of which being for legend of zelda. one wall also hung some high-placing medals and ribbons.

“oh? are these all your baseball achievements?”

“yeah… not to brag, i'm also the star player, so…”

“wow, gloating much?” aphmau laughs.

“i mean i would,” you admit, leaning in to look at a team photo on the wall. “captain and star player as a sophomore? i’d be telling everyone.”

garroth’s feet tumble behind you before the picture is covered by his larger hand. he ruffles his hair over the tops of his ears, clearing his throat and turning you around to the rest of his room.

“uh, so how do you like the rest of my room?”

you stifle a giggle, nodding and glancing around.

“it’s nice.”

“great!” his hands land firmly on your shoulders, ushering you and everyone else back out of his room and towards the staircase again.

zane emerges from his room, narrowing his eyes at the four of you as you pass. you finally see his outfit: simple black slacks and a black button-up. he uses his ringed fingers to briefly fluff up his hair, revealing his right eye. for the short time you see it, you notice the pupil was slightly clouded over, and a light scar ran from his eyelid to his brow.

“hey, baby brother.” garroth passes him, and zane’s annoyed expression deepens.

his other eye seems fine, but you slow next to him to double check.

“hi! you better from earlier?”

“obviously i am.” he scowls back, looking entirely unimpressed with you.

“oh.” your smile drops, the short laugh that leaves your lips sounding awkward. “i was just wondering…”

you nearly run into garroth’s back, looking up to see him sending an annoyed glare back at zane.

“zane, that wasn’t nice.”

“she was just asking. if you don’t like her just ignore her like you do to me,” vylad interjects, voice much calmer and even than the older two. “besides, don’t you have any good memories of her? she’s always been nice to you.”

“no, i don’t remember. and i prefer for it to stay that way.”

“zane,” garroth grits.

you send an uncomfortable glance over at aphmau, whose lips are tightly pressed together—unsure and awkward.

“what? mad i offended your little girlfriend? not my fault you—“

“zane, shut your—“

“you know,” aphmau suddenly interjects, cutting the two of them off. “i remember you being a big cry baby when we were younger, zane.”

“huh?!” his head whips over to the shorter girl, freckles cheeks brightening into an embarrassed pink.

“yeah, and garroth would tease you, but then these two would come to defend you.” vylad raises his eyebrows, smiling smugly at the memory as he glanced at you. “i remember she used to lecture garroth like she was a grown up, and made him feel guilty and apologize everytime.”

“…what? i don’t remember that.” garroth frowns, eyes darting to the floor in thought. “i always remember being a good big brother.”

“oldest sibling syndrome,” vylad mutters to himself in amusement. “i mean, you’ve always been loving, sure. but when we were kids you were always messing with zane.”

zane crosses his arms, staring at the ground as he brews on the memories himself. his eyebrow is furrowed, long black lashes covering whatever emotion you tried to read from his eye. garroth hums to himself in thought, rolling his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

“huh, i kinda remember that, actually.”

“yeah, and i remember vylad used to eat dirt,” zane mutters.

you pettily restrain yourself from laughing, remembering how he had been rude to you just moments ago.

“i’ve always loved nature, what can i say?”

“and glue.”

“yet i still got into o’khasis prep.”

“whatever.” zane’s previous anger returns as he turns back around into his room. “i’m staying in my room until dinner. i don’t know why i even bothered to come out.”

the door slams behind him.

well.

the four of you silently walk downstairs, following garroth as he turns into a large living room.

“i’m really sorry about him. he’s been super angry all the time lately. he usually takes it mostly out on me, but it’s really annoying.” he turns, a heavy sigh leaving his lips and an apologetic look on his face.

“hey, at least he acknowledges your existence.”

“vylad,” garroth pats the younger brother’s shoulder with a small awe, “zane loves you. he’s just… going through some stuff.”

“i know, but still…” he sighs. “anyways, yeah. sorry guys.”

his hands wave forward as he gestures to the room.

“anyways. here’s the living room.”

“i can see that,” you laugh, walking over to the tall, built-in bookshelves that stood on either side of the huge stone fireplace.

“yeah, mom recently went on a huge redecorating spree and bought these new couches.”

aphmau makes a noise of wonder at the large white wrap-around couch, sitting down and poking one of the many soft throw pillows that decorated it.

garroth steps into a hallway that led further off into the house, waving all of you over and stepping down the short stairway into the next section.

“we have a bathroom and our laundry room over here, and…” he steps towards a large french door with frosted glass.

“this used to be the garage but then dad remodeled it to be his home office. he had a new garage built separate from the house,” garroth explains, before turning to crack open the door and peeking in. “dad?”

you turn to aphmau, lowering your voice to a whisper.

“me when i casually turn my garage into my home office.”

she elbows you and vylad snickers, having overheard you. your eyes widen in his direction and he innocently holds his hands up, smiling cheesily in your direction.

“hey, it’s all good. i’m aware my family is rich.”

you cover your mouth as you laugh, before garroth fully opens the door and waves for the three of you to follow him in.

you see where your dad had disappeared off to earlier. he stood with his arms crossed, whatever chat he was having with mr. ro’meave interrupted as the two men look over to greet all of you.

“hello. it’s been a while since i’ve last seen the two of you.” garte smiles, and he looks nearly exact to what you would imagine garroth to look like about twenty five years from now.

he stands from his desk, dressed in a very expensive looking suit as he strides over to politely shake your hand. a very fresh minty cologne briefly passes your nose and as he stands—very tall—in front of you, you notice how perfectly well groomed his short facial hair was.

“you two grew up to be beautiful young ladies.”

“thank you mr. ro’meave, it’s nice to meet you… again?”

“just call me garte.” he smiles, voice as smooth as garroth’s yet much less soft and most definitely firm and assertive.

you couldn’t help but nod in agreement, nervously unable to think of any more words to say. he was definitely a businessman.

“dinner is ready!” zianna’s chimed voice calls out to the house, interrupting your introductions.

“well, i was just beginning to feel hungry. perfect timing.”

everyone files out of the room, you and aphmau trailing behind the group. you lean close to her ear, smirking as you whisper.

“dilf.”

aphmau slowly turns her head to you in shock, jaw dropped and mouth gaping wide open, her cheeks blazing red. her hand covers her mouth as she recovers, clearing her throat.

“real.”

“what are you two whispering about back there?” vylad turns, raising an eyebrow at the two of you.

“nothing!” you both squeak, stiffening up and walking along as he and garroth shoot the two of you a strange look.

you soon find yourself situated with everyone else at the ro’meaves’ huge dining table, plates set with the combination of the three mothers’ efforts.

“so,” garte’s eyes landed on yours, the rest of the table’s attention falling to you, “i was talking to your dad about your move and how you were adjusting to the new school life. how do you like phoenix drop so far?”

“oh, it’s been… pretty good so far.” you gulp down the nervous lump in your throat. “garroth and aphmau are really good friends, so that helps.”

he barks out a laugh, the sound so crisp and clear it nearly startles you out of your seat.

“of course! if anyone gives you trouble you can always go to garroth or any of my boys for help.”

your lips curl up in a forced smile, embarrassment sinking into your skin. in your peripheral vision, you can see zane’s eye practically roll to the back of his head.

garroth leans forward in his seat, his perfect smile matching his father’s. “yeah, seriously. anytime you need help you know you can come to me.”

vylad’s mouth spreads into that same cheesy smile, though it looks like he had shoved something sour in his mouth before doing so.

“same here. i can’t fight, but i’ll do my best.”

“thanks, the same goes for all of you,” you return the sentiment, your cheeks burning uncomfortably hot as you distract yourself by shoving a bite of food in your mouth.

“i don’t think so,” zane mutters with an annoyed groan, earning a quick glare from his brothers.

“zane, you need to–” garroth starts.

“i don’t need to do anything, actually.”

“dad.” vylad turns to garte, the other adults distracted in their own conversation now. “can you tell zane and garroth to stop fighting?”

garte makes a distracted humming noise, before an insistent buzzing interrupts the moment.

“are they?” he asks absentmindedly, his focus turned to his phone as he quickly whips it out from his suit pocket, frowning. “ah, i should take this. it’s about the beach house.”

vylad’s face falls, and garte’s sudden exit from the room seems enough for his older brothers to stop talking, their annoyed expressions dropping as blue eyes watch him disappear through the doorway.

the rest of the dinner you quietly eat your food, listening and joining in to the older ladies’ chatter as they carry on the lively atmosphere. the boys start to gather up dishes on their mother’s command (they’re trained well), and when you reach down to your own plate to help, zianna reaches for your hand.

“oh no, my boys got it, hun!” she begins to pull you away, leading you back to the staircase. “i do want to talk to you about something, though.”

“oh, sure.”

she pulls you into a room upstairs that garroth hadn’t shown you before, another bedroom that you assume to be her and garte's. the room was elegantly decorated with different shades of creams, contrasted by polished dark ebony wood furniture. she leads you to her vanity and shuffles through her drawers.

you turn to glance through a nearby doorway, the room expanding even further into a huge bathroom that looked to be just as big as the bedroom.

“ah, here.” zianna says suddenly, and your attention turns to the taller woman as she dangles an interesting looking necklace in front of you.

you blink, gingerly taking the locket between your fingers as she moves it closer, face expectant.

“um, what is this?”

“i’m giving it to you,” she explains, reaching to clasp the thin chain around your neck.

“to me?” your eyes widen. “thank you… but why?”

“i spoke to your mom and sylvanna about the reason you moved here.” her tone is serious. “i know you probably don’t want to talk about it, and i understand that. but i want you to know you will always be safe with me and my boys.”

she lifts the locket up, briefly blowing into the top and a low whistle sounds from the metal.

“that’s with barely any air blowing into it. if you’re ever in trouble and no one is near, blow into this as hard as you can, and it’ll sound like a train whistle.”

you blink down at the beautifully decorated whistle, the round device looking inconspicuous. you’re unsure why it shakes you, but you feel the tip of your nose prick and your eyes mist.

“thank you…”

“of course dear. i want you to stay near my gar-gar as much as you can when you’re out until we start figuring some things out, okay? you’re not alone.” her delicate hands brush away your hands from your face, lightly tapping your cheeks.

“and we should totes exchange numbers!” she cheerfully switches up her tone, waving her hand to dry your teary lashes. “anytime you need me, you can just give me a call, pretty girl!”

after exchanging phone numbers as zianna insisted, the two of you make your way downstairs to give your final goodbyes for the evening. garroth and vylad pull you into a hug, wishing you a good night and retreating back upstairs. zane lingers for just a moment, his brow and mouth still pulled down into that signature frown.

you thought you had swallowed down your urge for tears, but the cold icy blues that darted over your expression seemed much too observant for comfort.

“you know, if you frown like that all the time you’ll have wrinkles by your twenties,” you remark, lingering by the front door.

“didn’t ask,” he quips, arms crossed stubbornly before he sighs. “good night.”

“...good night.”

tag list: @orinlin @pain-in-the-ashe @youmake1mistake @arienic

#aphmau mystreet #mystreet x reader #mystreet #aphmau #x reader #phoenix drop high #aphmau pdh #pdh #reader insert #fem reader

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rudhargroupindia · 2 years

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Benefits of Industrial Rolling Shutter in India

Industrial rolling shutters are large, heavy-duty shutters that are used in commercial and industrial settings to secure building entrances, windows, and other openings. These shutters are typically made from durable materials such as aluminum or steel and are designed to withstand the demands of frequent use, harsh weather conditions, and attempted break-ins. Industrial rolling shutters come in a variety of styles and can be customized to fit specific openings. Some popular styles include sectional rolling shutters, which are made up of individual sections that roll up into a compact coil, and shutters with interlocking slats that provide extra security and insulation.

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Galvalume Rolling Shutter

Galvalume Rolling Shutters are ideally suited for most types of Industrial and Commercial applications. The aluminum – zinc alloy coating offers excellentcorrosion resistance. It retains the sacrificial properties of zinc relative to steelwhile aluminum provides a tough film of aluminum oxide to increase barrierprotection. Galvalume Rolling Shutters continue to gain approval by specifiers,architects, building owners and many others due to its versatility, ease of use,aesthetics and long-term performance.

These shutters are powdered with 20+ years of anti-corrosion property’s and are typically made of aluminumand coated with a zinc-silicon alloy which makes themrobust.

Gear Operated Rolling Shutter

Manual Gear operated Rolling Shutters Very useful and effective for warehouse, malls and industrial premises we are capable of manufacture many designs and finest quality our working method like excellent workmanship, high quality material, perfect sizes and attractive designs also it’s acquire low maintenance cost.

Roller shutters are a type of doors typically used for shops and businesses. The specification of the roller shutter should meet the customer's requirements. Here I try to give general information about roller shutters and their materials, methods of fastening and other details. Metal roller shutters must comply with IS: 6248. Roller shutter accessories must conform to specifications and approvals and be suitable for attachment to the specified location i.e. outside or inside; above or below the lintel or between the posts of the opening.

In addition to security, industrial rolling shutters can also offer benefits such as energy efficiency, noise reduction, and protection from the elements. For example, interlocking slats can provide insulation and help to regulate the temperature inside the building, while shutters with tight-fitting seals can block out noise and wind. In conclusion, industrial rolling shutters are an effective and versatile solution for securing and protecting building openings in commercial and industrial settings. With a variety of styles, customizations, and security features to choose from, these shutters can provide a high level of protection and enhance the overall efficiency and comfort of a building.

Original Source: rolling shutter door

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simspaghetti · 1 year

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Ancient Modernity Makeover DOWNLOAD

Hello!! I had a few requests to put this build up for download, and since I just recently hit 800 followers (eeek!! Thank you so much 😭😭) I figured this was a good gift to show my thanks!

Disclaimer: The original version from Gen2 of my Random Legacy uses a ridiculous amount of CC but this is a stripped-back model to make it more accessible for most players, if it looks different that’s why!

Tour Pictures:

Download & more info under the cut! ⬇️

Basic Information:

Price: Furnished = §85,896 / Unfurnished = §48,259

Lot Size: 40x40

2 Bedrooms / 2 Bathrooms

Furnished for 2 Sims (A Couple), 1 Baby/Toddler and 1 Dog

Potential to turn the upstairs fashion studio into a bedroom as well

Expansions Needed:

World Adventures / Ambitions / Supernatural / Late Night / Seasons / Pets / University Life / Generations

I appreciate that this build still uses quite a bit of CC, so for my minimal CC playing folks, I’ve also made an unfurnished shell version, which uses much less!

Unfurnished Shell CC:

BlamsEAStore:

Casually Corrugated Wall

Plants: Lovely Lupin / Bird of Paradise / Swiss Cheese

Dolly Door

Posture Glass Double Door

Greenhouse Window

Muntin Window

Other Creators:

AA6x7 Halved Progress Industrial Chic Window (Only the ‘top’ version)

(Solar Redux) A Sensible Panel

Additional CC for Furnished Version:

‼️You also need everything from the 'Unfurnished Shell' CC list‼️

Blams EA Store:

Bedside Cabinet-Ish End Table / Tropical Leaves of Repose / Murano Retro & Ripe Fruit Bowl / Alvar Vintage Chill Well Refrigerator / Grandmother’s Cooktop / Dirty-No-More Changing & Bathing Station

AroundTheSims3:

Ilona’s Kitchen Cabinet / Bree-KEA Kitchen Cabinets (Just the Normal version & the shorter version) EcoLiving Power Generator / Summer Festival Stylist Station

Other Creators:

Basimcly Simple Curtains Mutske (TSR, sorry!) Florence Curtains ChasmChronicle (MTS): DIY Curtains, Blinds & Shutters - Only the 'Medium rolled up blinds' are needed! Twinsimming: Curtain Call - Both Billionaire’s Curtains & Fashion Forward - Trending Style Board (final) / Industrial Clothing Rack / Clothes by MLys (without dress) KandiRaverSims: Cats&Dogs - Bella Curtain (Both sizes) & Laundry Day - Ironing Board / Shelving Essentials

TOU: Don’t reupload or claim as your own, tags on posts aren’t necessary but are definitely appreciated :) - Feel free to modify or refurnish the build however you want!

➡️ DOWNLOAD IT HERE

(Simfileshare Folder with both Furnished & Unfurnished versions included)

These are library files, so they go in your The Sims 3 -> Library folder

Alsoo this is my first time uploading a build, so please let me know if you encounter any issues!

Have fun using this build in your game! I’d love to see pictures of your sims using the build if you do tag me, and thank you again for 800 followers - it's bananas that I've hit that number, I'm so thankful to all of you!! :D

#sims 3 #ts3 #ts3 download #sims 3 house #ts3 cc #sims 3 build #sims 3 download #ts3 lot #s3cc #my resources #cc finds

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alliedispatindia · 3 months

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High-Quality Rolling Shutter Parts: What You Need To Know

Introduction

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shutterrepair1 · 9 months

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wanda-little-baby · 2 years

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Twin Surprises - Wanda Maximoff x romanoff!Reader

Summary (pt. 1) : A particular morning on an equally particular day can take on unexpected implications

Warnings: little swear (???), bad morning, the breakfast thief Pietro, a probable caffeine addiction (who isn't at least a little?), mistreated trash cans, frustration

A/N: Okay this is unexpected but I'm splitting this chapter / birthday special into two parts

Words: 4.717

What's worse than having a damn fixed thought and not being able to do anything else? Apparently waking up with this damned idea whirling in your head, too early and on your day off, with an annoyed mood.

ᗢ⧗── ･｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

Being an Avenger involves a lot of duties, tight schedules, and many other boring things, so those little moments when you are free you try to spend them as best as possible.

That's why now you're very angry, it's your day off, and you woke up too early with a stupid woodworm in your head, but since you're too stubborn to fall for it, you still don't give up on the idea of falling asleep again.

You roll over once, close your eyes and try... nothing. You try again, you turn around again, you close your eyes and... still nothing.

By dint of tossing and turning from one side to the other, unfortunately you wake up Wanda in the end.

As the internal struggles in you continue ardently, you now stare at yourself lying on your back, your eyes still closed, while Wanda makes room for herself in your arms, also resting her head on your chest.

Spend a little time like this, in absolute silence, you still convinced you'll be able to fall asleep again, and Wanda too busy following your heartbeat and enjoying the tranquility of the morning.

ᗢ⧗── ･｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

Your stubbornness persists, even after Wanda has fully awakened and noticed that you weren't sleeping, even after she asked you why you kept closing your eyes and you explained everything to her, even after she called you strange only replied with "your weird, though".

In the end, however, you give up, a deep sigh comes from your lips, and when you finally open your eyes for a brief moment you are blinded because apparently Wanda had opened the shutter after getting up.

With great remorse you sit on the edge of the bed and massage your eyes, before standing up and regretfully walking around the room.

You pause for a moment on the desk near the wall, more precisely on the small black box, complete with the 'Stark Industries ' logo that was in the package that Tony had given you when you were "sleeping". The nice thing is that in the package there was also a note in italics that clearly said 'for emergencies '.

Going back to your thoughts, you wonder where your girlfriend has gone, you heard her get up and move away from the bed but then you lost track of her. "Wanda?" you ask softly to the empty room, looking for the slightest noise. "In the bathroom!" a muffled scream from the distance and from the door reaches your ears revealing the position of the sokovian.

Slowly you head into the internal bathroom you have, opening the door slightly you observe the girl as she completed her morning routine.

"So... have you decided what you want to do?" after finish she asks, now looking at you. Her hair tied up in a half chignon, others still loose, and a funny messy smile. You grimace in frustration, detaching yourself from the jamb, you woke up wrong today. "yes... unfortunately" you sigh in surrender. "I think I'll go to the lab, even if it wasn't in my plans at all" pouting fit for a five-year-old, you slam your forehead retributively against the doorframe while whining repeatedly.

Therefore Wanda finds it very difficult to hold back a giggle or even a small smile at your childish ways, typical of mornings, especially the bad ones. "It's okay love, I'm sure you can still enjoy your day off" she passes you by before placing a delicate kiss on your lips and leaving the bathroom completely free.

"Is talking who doesn't have a worm in their head" you insinuate pouting in a slightly louder voice, enough for Wanda to hear that she had just left your room. She rolls her eyes at your insinuation, there's no malice in it, you're just frustrated and still sleepy, so she sets out to help you out later.

You gave yourself a general mending in the bathroom, your nightwear replaced with something decent but not too uncomfortable, your hair all tangled up from the night sorted into a laboratory ponytail, a light dusting of make-up together with your favorite lipstick and finally a pair of tan converse and you're good to go. (of course you always wear your precious necklace⚡)

All ready you leave your room and walk through the compound, hoping to finish as soon as possible, so you can take this day off.

You don't miss meeting almost everyone on the team, some like Steve and Sam returning from a morning run, or greeting a busy Kate with a wooden bow on her way to the shooting range. You also replied to the message Natasha sent you this morning, you hadn't read it yet but she was coming home early, so another happy surprise for you soon

Before arriving in the laboratory, however, you decided to take a small detour to the kitchen and see if there was something good to eat. Your expectations have been more than rewarded when already from a good distance you smelled a crunchy scent and a conversation going on between your favorite twins, so you don't lose heart and enter the room. "What are you guys up to?" so you announce your presence, walking towards the counter and your girlfriend together with her brother. You wrap your arms from behind Wanda and give her a trail of kisses down her neck, which causes Pietro to giggle and also get a warning look from his twin regarding his PDA comments.

Rocking with your chin on Wanda's shoulder you look curiously at your dear twin a little too fast, the curiosity remains. "So what? What were you discussing before?" you grab a last kiss on Wanda's cheek before pulling your arms away and detaching yourself a little more from the counter.

"Piet was talking to me about his amazing schedule for the day, trying to divert my attention from his attempt to scrub some of the waffles I'd made." waving the spatula she was putting away, she stares very intently at her brother. A grimace of dissent manifests itself on the Sokovian's face, very useful if he doesn't have to talk to his sister or his best friend.

In fact, just before I can finish the sentence "That's not really true... I just wanted to inform my little sister of what I had in mind for today..." both of you raise an eyebrow, definitively undermining his lie, you know him too much well.

Leaving aside his constant baling, you approach the coffee machine, ready for your morning dose of caffeine. "Leaving aside your bad excuses Pietro... Do you want coffee? Wan?" you ask with your back to the twins, fiddling with the machine, then wash your hands after making cups. "I pass" "Already taken детка" they answer you as you turn on the appliance before returning for a moment to the sink.

"Why are there coffee grounds in the garbage disposal?" you turn towards them, the question and curiosity very strong in you, but above all the who. They shrug their shoulders without knowing how to help you and then you sigh, you'll have to deal with it later.

While you wait for the brown nectar to flow, you drum your fingers on the counter when Pietro asks you a question. "So, Y/N, how is Natasha?" he asks you. "She's quite well, she should be back by tonight, so the mission is practically over" with renowned hope, as well as a certain happiness, you take the coffee container and pour the contents into a cup.

"Alright guys, see you later, I'm going to the lab. Wish me luck Maximoffs!" you greet Wanda with a kiss on the cheek and a hug, two finger guns aimed at her brother, while walking backwards you disappear from their sight.

"Ugh!!!" you repeatedly hit yourself on the head, because you're too stupid to let a goddamn thought come out.

You've been here for hours, literally, analyzing some stupid blood samples... and you still have nothing! It's like your brain just can't piece together…it's nerve-wracking, having the answer on the tip of your tongue and not being able to get hold of it.

You've tried everything to get you focused: you've tried putting on some music... it didn't work! In fact, you spent a lot of time dancing around the room rather than getting new ideas. You've tried a new angle, another creative point of view, anything else that provides a goddamn starting point... and every single thing brings you back to the start. This shouldn't even be normal!

Normally when your brain fixates on something it works on it until it solves it, but it's like it's somewhere else now... Yet this morning it just seemed like you just wanted to come down here to the lab rather than spend your day off a day a little longer in bed.

"How much I would like a nice distraction..." you whisper, looking glassy at the laboratory door, praying that someone, no matter who, enters there just to have a chat.

Unfortunately, however, you only have your sighs to keep you company, and a probable stress headache on the way doesn't help at all. Of all this uproar thinking the only good thing, or at least the only moment in which perhaps you didn't want to escape from this laboratory, was when Wanda came a few hours ago with a tray of delicacies and you had breakfast together, unfortunately, however, with your great sorry she had to run off shortly after to go train with Steve according to what she told you.

Looking back maybe staying in the same place racking your brains isn't a good idea though, at most now you could just play with a few red balls between your fingers and get a huge headache. "I need a distraction... a change of scenery" you get up with a start and drop everything, leaving the laboratory all messed up and everything still in the middle, you put down your glasses and at the first window that overlooks the compound, you take flight.

ᗢ⧗── ･｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

The breeze of the wind on your face, plus the sheer feeling of freedom as you soar in the air go a long way towards making you less stressed and possibly happier, so when you finally land secretly in an alley, you won't regret the choice you made. at all.

With a quick look around to make sure that the alleyway is indeed safe and that no one has seen you land, you set off through the streets of the Big Apple.

With the day having already begun, the streets crowded and full of people darting from one side to the other, no one would expect an avenger walking alongside them, yet here you are mixed with those who until a few years ago were ordinary citizens like you.

There's no place like home

Smiling to yourself, you stroll through the streets of the city where you were born, raised and even became a superhero, in short... in most places here you have memories (good and bad).

But there's only one place you always go when you simply want to unplug, spend some quiet time without pressure, take a little break from the chaotic world of superheroes... and it's a coffee shop, a simple coffee shop.

It was the first thing you discovered on your own, as soon as you "moved" to the tower, you found this coffee shop and it's kind of become your personal hideaway ever since.

That's exactly where you're heading now, only you're too distracted from watching life in the city to notice you're almost there.

You may have snapped back to reality when you smelled the familiar whiff of coffee and other baked goods and perhaps tripped over a poor fellow. With embarrassment written on your face, you humbly apologize to the passerby, sometimes your distraction leads you to be very clumsy.

When you enter, the usual atmosphere, the clatter of cups and coffee machines, the conversations in the background... basically everything is very welcoming.

The line for orders isn't even that long, certainly less boring than being closed in the laboratory with a heavy migraine and no one to talk to, and then at the end of the effort there should be a reward, right? One by one as you look around the customers are served their orders and soon it's your turn.

The first thing you notice once you approach the counter ready to place your order is that they have hired a new barista, you can tell because you know everyone at this coffee shop... even the manager probably, and this girl is new. Not to throw her off you were about to expose your caffeine order when she interrupts you.

"I bet... double latte with whipped cream and... a sprinkle of cinnamon!" the young new employee gestures smiling, she fully guesses your usual drink that you take here, indeed it is not the only thing that she has left on you.

"Yeah... that was exactly what I was about to say. You really nailed it!" surprised and also quite intrigued you smile back, she should ask for the name now even if there's more underneath maybe.

"So a double latte with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon for…?" she asks you all the time, and if you weren't the telepath you'd say she was reading your mind. "Y/N" drums on the counter, very intrigued and perhaps with a small idea of trying to do a slight violation of her mind.

Stand still Y/N she just guessed your order, don't commit a crime out of some stupid trivia.

The girl, she hints at a slight hidden smile, before returning to your order. "Well Y/N, your order arrives as soon as possible" with a somewhat funny tone the girl takes leave while you go and sit down at a table.

Of all the seats in the coffee shop your favorite ones are by the window, from there you can see the outside environment, with all the city lights, cars passing by and people walking on the sidewalks, all while enjoying a great drink. In a short time, or at least according to your perception of time, your order is prepared and the same girl who took your order, even if it is not her responsibility, brings it to your table.

You were listening to the music with headphones, facing the wall window, so you don't even notice that someone is approaching you, much less that this same person is sitting on the other side of the table. It's only when the new bartender touches your arm that you come out of your thoughts and realize she's there.

Seeing your face briefly frightened, more surprised than anything, the young woman explains the unspoken question to you. "I'm on a break and... I brought coffee! Do you mind if I stay here a while?" she says handing you your cup, very happy and joyful, even if deep down you understand that she doesn't want to bother you, you should still give her an answer. "No, you can stay if you want, I-I don't mind" distant, already back in your thoughts you answer with a sigh.

"Are you okay? You look worried..." she with sincere interest, moves closer with the chair, now she looks you straight in the eye, she really she would like to know what is upsetting or annoying you.

I'm not saying I could even tell her, but I'd have nothing to lose if I did, right? She offered herself!

Here you are now convinced, you will confide in the stranger in the coffee shop. What could be so bad? Take a deep breath and sip your drink, the taste of the coffee gives you that extra push to talk.

"Yes... I mean no... it's just that I have so many thoughts on my mind and sometimes I almost feel like I'm going to explode!" you mimic an explosion in your head with your hands, the new girl lets out a giggle at your antics nodding in sympathy.

"Yeah, I can understand that. At least, I think I do. Sometimes it just goes boom and there's nothing you can do about it" with extraordinary calmness the mysterious girl says, taking a sip of the other cup of coffee she's brought along. Nod along with her, conversing as you drink your coffee.

ᗢ⧗── ･｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

You've been talking to this mysterious girl for longer than you ever expected. First of all now you know her name is Alya, she goes to NYU which by the way is driving her crazy with deadlines and studying and all, and more importantly she always knew who you were just she didn't want to make the somewhat embarrassing situation.

You told her about your particular morning, and why you came here, and while you both had a laugh about why you shouldn't drink coffee when stressed, you had a pleasant conversation.

Talking to her you got to study her, from her slightly wavy hair a shade of red, just about shoulder level, to her green eyes, more or less the same shade as Wanda. When it comes to analyzing a person, training as an agent of the Shield certainly comes in handy for you, indeed just after only a few minutes you notice Alya's personality traits that stand out just by looking at her posture, way of gesturing and facial expressions.

For a shy person, with you literally just meeting her she is very outgoing.

You understood it from how she sat, her shoulders tense, a rigid posture and her legs crossed, she usually doesn't talk much with strangers and if she does she remains very shy. She has a habit of twirling a strand of hair between her fingers, it's probably because she's very nervous while she's talking to you, you just don't understand why.

She's rambling now while you're talking, and that makes you smile because sometimes when you're nervous you tend to ramble a lot too, so you understand how she's feeling.

While your ears are listening to whatever this girl is talking about, a thousand thoughts are shooting in your brain every minute.

All concentrated on one something, a feeling deep in your chest, something that tells you that there is more to this girl than she brought you a coffee a while ago, something that should remain a mystery but you still don't. you know.

This girl has something… I don't know… something… familiar. But I think she's not telling the whole truth... the dilated pupils, the constant anxiety, the hair curling around her finger, the rambling... I know she's hiding something from me and somehow it concerns me.

You might not have been the only one having internal conversations at that table, in fact your mysterious girl is also having an internal struggle, torn between revealing her big secret and compromising herself or blatantly lying to you (she's not doing too well it seems). Her anxiety is eating her up, she doesn't know how to get out of this situation without causing a potential catastrophe, and she's never been good at hiding her emotions so her concern by now she too understands that it is clearly visible.

Fortunately for her, or perhaps unfortunately if she won't keep her mouth shut about what she absolutely mustn't tell you, you decide to break this farce first. "So Alya… what of what you told me is a lie?" you look her straight in the eye, serious on the outside but dying of curiosity on the inside. For a moment, she for some reason unknown to you she rolls her eyes, as if this phrase she had heard many times, a pleasant memory.

Insistently, you wait for an answer, you'd rather have her tell you than invade her privacy by getting into her head. A few seconds pass and Alya takes a deep breath before uttering a word, trying to balance the words without compromising herself.

"W-what do you mean?" with clear anxiety she says, the stammering accentuating her nervousness. "You have been nice and kind to me since I entered this shop, you have told me part of your life, I have done the same... but, but there is something underneath that you are not telling me, and I feel that in somehow it concerns me. So, to recap, what are your intentions?" trying to be as non-threatening as possible, you try to get her to spill the beans, even though she could have major consequences for your future (not that you know it).

The girl, or Alya by now, thinks she can hide at least a minimum of her nervousness about this situation, it's not at all what she would have imagined when she accidentally happened here. Breaking with sweat, metaphorically speaking, she steels herself and tries to put her still developing skills to good use. "W-what?! I'm not hiding anything from you! I'm just a rookie bartender good with people..." with a clearly fake smile, just to mask her growing panic, she hesitates a bit hoping you'll take this excuse blatant.

Clearly you've seen more than a few details that made your nose go crazy, some things that don't add up at all but that definitely don't lead to an ordinary person, you just don't want to jump to conclusions.

"Hmm ok I'll pretend to believe you... if you explain to me why the soles of your shoes are completely charred annnd why you have this constant fear when I meet your gaze" with your chin held in the palm of your hand, with absolute nonchalance you reveal some of the details that you noticed, leaving her no less than stunned.

She expected everything except to be betrayed by her own shoes, she had to change them when she had the chance but now it's too late and she probably screwed up. She's practically one step away from a cold sweat, and despite her wide-eyed eyes she has a constant lump in her throat that's hard to swallow. "W-what?" she can barely pronounce, the fear in her ribs of compromising herself even worse.

She is so stubborn you think hastily rolling your eyes. "Look, if you have powers, that's fine I won't say anything, you seem like a good girl definitely not a criminal so I'll let you handle this because I know how you feel, I've been there. But… there's something else below, I don't know what, but you have a very familiar face, but I don't understand the whole picture..." with the utmost calm, all the result of an unnatural momentary maturity, you try to explain your points of view, leaving a low voice some details to avoid snooping.

Heart pounding, time almost seems to slow down, everything seems ready for Alya to make the one mistake she shouldn't have made... when suddenly your phone rings.

"Kate?" dumbfounded you speak with the device now leaning against your ear. "Y/N! Hey, how's it going?" on the other end of the line, a very agitated Kate goes from one tone to another, bordering on total panic.

Without even giving you time to answer, she continues talking, completely ignoring your turn. "Do you by any chance know how the hell I'm supposed to supervise the recruits at the shooting range?!” she alarmed her, she surely she's pacing, she just confuses you even more. "Supervising? Kate, sorry but what the heck are you talking about?" you exclaim not so much to let everyone in the coffee shop know what you are saying but enough to let the archer know your confusion.

"Do you prefer the long version or the short one?" Kate sighs, as you roll your eyes a little amused after all. "Short please" you emphasize in exasperation.

"Okay let's go long. I was having my morning bow practice when Steve came and said I had to supervise the recruits during training, I asked him why and he said usually Natasha's dealing with this but now she's on a mission and anyway they're all busy and it's just me and they'll be here in five minutes and… and I'm totally panicking" in a profile of information, Kate panics more and more constant, you even feel that her breathing is becoming noisy.

Of course, you have to put up with a long-winded sermon steeped in insecurity, even if you explicitly asked for the 'short version' just to avoid it, but being the good and supportive friend you are, as well as a master at making you panic you are already ready to explain carefully what to do.

"Kate. Aren't you a national champion in archery as well as an unreasonable number of other sports?" you blurt out, trying to get her to a trusted bathroom. "Yes?" "So go, be yourself, use your skills and show these recruits who Kate Bishop is!" you encourage her, clear and forthright as only you can be.

A few moments pass and you don't get a reply, so you decide to check if something has happened. "Kate, are you still there?" you ask suspiciously, waiting for a sign of life. "Y/N, they've arrived" in a whispered voice Kate almost mutters incomprehensibly.

"Go and destroy them all" you try your tactic one more time, hoping for a better result. "Ready or not now I'm in" concludes Kate leaving the setback of the call to you. "See you later Kate. Don't say anything to whoever you know who, about that thing you know" you hang up the call, and sitting alone in the chair.

Well yes, Alya in one quick moment during your call, literally darted out of the club, and you already know that this girl you won't see her again (or at least the next time you see her like this, it could be in quite some time ).

The thing that amazed you the most was the fact that you tried to read her mind, but there was something that prevented you, a kind of block... is it possible that Alya herself applied it? Almost nil.

"Well, enough of the nonsense for today, it's time to get back to my not-so-ordinary superhero life" without racking your brain once more, you run out of the very last drop of coffee and walk out of the coffee shop ready to go back to the compound.

ᗢ⧗── ･｡ﾟ⧗: *.ᗢ.* :⧗. ───⧗ᗢ

After Alya's improvised get-away

That call was like a saving grace for Alya, she couldn't have lasted a second longer. Even if her little escape will certainly have cost her her job, oh well she doesn't care much about this, however she doesn't even have to be here now.

She's never cared about her dearest superspeed as much as now, it's really true, sometimes she really saves your ass. Now the only thing she needed to figure out what to do without meeting any avenger again so as not to make another mess.

"Damn! Good Natalya, very good. You were about to prevent the birth of you and your siblings, basically suicide!" in an abandoned alley, as far away as possible from the coffee shop or from the compound in general, Alya yells at herself, if a passerby were to see her he would call her crazy.

"Oh, but that's not my fault! It's all my cocky stupid brother's fault! If Billy doesn't bring me back as soon as possible I swear I won't regret canceling his birth" in a typical family fury at this point, the redhead freaks out against a garbage can.

"But then why 2016?! Do he know what happens to mom this year and he sent me here! 'as a test' he said! 'I'll get you back in a few minutes' he said! And now I'm here, plus ten years away from home for almost a week! Kicking a bloody dumpster..." if she didn't know how to control herself now the poor dumpster would be in a bad way for how she's treating it, the only way to vent the frustration of be trapped in the past.

Part 2 Soon ...

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