#priority and you gave him your attention and didn’t take it away meanwhile my sister and i have always had to share bc we’re twins and she

[pepprs]

also the favoritism thing is still making me so fucking mad and insane btw. im not jealous / resentful of my brother bc he deserves her love and is also burdened in his own ways by it and bc i think my drama w my mom has shaped my life in profound ways and given me friends i cherish and i would never trade any of that for the world but jesus fucking christ. why do i have to beg you to interact with me like a mother. why do i have to talk to me at all beyond asking me to do you 847439473 favors a day. why do i have to beg you to take an interest in my life and apologize when you hurt me and be nurturing and perceptive for once in your fucking life. like it hurts to hear her asking him about his classes and whatever bc she didn’t think i was stressed out w school but i had to talk to a ****** hotline last decemver when i couldn’t take it anymore and my mental health was crashing and burning and it doesn’t even fucking matter to her at all and she’s going to get him the nice gifts and throw him the nice parties and whatever because she hates me and my sister for… and let me get this straight… being complicated and anxious and depressed and also girls. lol!

[nightshade-minho]

Nightmare (2)

Warnings: male masturbation, mentions of smut etc.

Note: Nvm what I said before, this is definitely gonna have more than 3 parts lmao.

Part 1 | Part 3

When you woke up, you felt yourself wrapped in a warm embrace. Confused, you turned slightly to see Minho’s sleeping visage. You almost squealed before shutting yourself up with one hand, as Minho’s entire body was pressed up against yours...and that meant you could feel something hard poke against your ass. You tried to move, but Minho’s hands were firmly wrapped around your waist in a death grip. Your shifting only made him pull you closer in his sleep, his morning wood poking deeper into your panties.

“M-Minho...? It’s time to wake up now.” You said, as you used your free hand to poke him. You were answered with a grumpy, half-asleep mumble, and then suddenly you were turned around, your face pressed into his bare chest. A blush spread across your cheeks- his skin was soft and you could smell his signature scent.

“Minhoooo.” You whined, trying to wriggle out of his grip, but the man was way stronger than you, and kept you in place. You sighed, giving up and resting your head against him.

You couldn’t deny how secure and comfortable you felt, lying in his arms like this. However the bittersweet knowledge that once he woke up, he’d probably shoot away from you filled your mind, which was a sobering thought.

So he did come back last night after all. Was it after they had sex or did he not have sex at all? You expelled the thoughts, choosing to close your eyes again, cherishing the moment. You felt so safe and warm.

There was probably an alternate universe in which you would wake you Minho up with a kiss...a world in which you were together. However in this reality, Minho was an asshole with priorities that mattered over you. The anger from yesterday night seeped back into you.

So you summoned all your strength to pry his hands away, prompting a whine from him. You slid off the bed before he could pull you back into his arms. You sat on the floor for a while, before slowly getting to your knees and peering over the bed. Minho had turned around, his back now facing you and his snores louder than ever. You let out a phew, and made your way to the kitchen to make breakfast.

•••

Meanwhile, Minho’s eyes shot open just as he heard you close the door behind you. He sighed and sat up on the bed. He hadn’t wanted you to know he was awake, and was consciously holding you close to him. He scrunched his eyes shut as he turned to the side and pressed his face to the pillow, groaning. What was he doing?

He sat up and pushed the sheets off of him, sighing when he noticed his morning wood. He could also smell the scent of your body wash lingering- the smell of clean lemon flowers permeating the air.

Getting up, he headed for the shower so he could clean up and take care of his pesky little situation.

Naked, he leaned against the shower wall, taking his cock in his hand and stroking it slowly. He sifted through his mental library for something worth jerking off to.

The blonde he met at the laundromat last Sunday? Nah. He recalled how annoying her voice was when he had asked her for her number. Perhaps the brunette in his psych class? Ugh, no. Maybe he should think of some porn scene that had turned him on...? No luck.

Minho’s mind automatically drifted to last night, when he saw you spread out like that on his bed, wearing his shirt and with your ass on full display.

No. He slapped himself with his free hand. There was no way he was gonna get off to the thought of you. It was bad enough that he’d had some mature thoughts about you the night before...masturbating to you would have devastating consequences for his conscience.

But he couldn’t help it. As much as he tried to conjure some other sexy image, you stayed stubbornly.

Minho almost screamed with how much his cock was begging him to give up already. Finally he gave in, his head slamming against the shower wall as he pumped his dick hard, imagining up a situation where you woke up as he was pressed against you...letting him slide your panties to the side and slip his cock in to your tight, wet heat.

When he finally came, harder than he’d ever cum before...he thought about what he had just done. He felt filthy. What would you think of him, if you knew? He was too embarrassed to even think of looking at your face now. He uncomfortably recalled how he’d referred to you as his little sister during middle school. That phase was over, but it still disturbed him to think about how he’d just gotten off to someone who he cared about that much.

Minho stepped out of the shower. He dried himself off, found some clothes and his bag, and made his way to the living room. You were standing in the open kitchen, stirring something in a pan. He noticed how you’d pulled on some shorts, but was still wearing his shirt.

You heard his footsteps and whipped around. He made brief eye contact before quickly walking to the door.

“Wait, Minho...don’t you want some breakfast?”

He rolled his eyes, and didn’t reply.

With that, he slammed the door behind him, leaving you confused and hurt.

You felt tears prickling the corners of your eyes. Was he mad at you because you slept in his bed yesterday?

You didn’t know. All you knew was that you were too exhausted for this. You had classes to attend, too. So you turned your attention back to the stove, driving Minho away from your mind and giving him a backseat in your brain.

•••

As Minho made his way through campus that evening to get back home, his mind was filled about how he shouldn’t have acted that way in the morning. It wasn’t your fault that he’d been such a pervert, after all. He practiced his apology as he walked...but then he caught a flash of red hair in the distance.

Fuck. It was the redhead from yesterday.

She stopped in front of him, crossing her arms.

“What the fuck was that all about, Minho? You were the one who came onto me, and then you ditch at the last second? It was so fucking humiliating. People saw you rushing to leave the party right after you entered the room with me.”

She looked really angry. Minho wasn’t used to the girls he screwed over being this mad; most of them were already well aware of his reputation.

“Look, Rita, I’m sorry okay? Something came up. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You asshole, it’s Rina. And don’t think I’ll let this by so easily.” She smirked, and Minho raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, just that my father is the Chief of Police. And if I were to tell him that you were running around molesting girls...I’m pretty sure he’d believe me. Especially because there are tons of girls you’ve wronged that would love to back me up.”

Minho’s mind was swimming. This couldn’t be happening, not today. He couldn’t think of anything to say, his breath catching in his throat. Rina’s smirk grew wider, watching as he started sweating.

Then, an idea popped into his head.

“I’m dating someone!” He blurted.

Rina’s smirk dropped off her face. “W-What?”

“I mean...we got together recently, though I’ve been crushing on her for a while. And...since I’m such a playboy, I kinda forgot I’m supposed to not fuck other girls anymore, haha...I’m really really sorry.”

Rina faltered. “I...you have a girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“You, the Lee Minho...has a girlfriend.”

He nodded tightly. “I’m sorry for all the inconvenience I caused, but I couldn’t cheat on her...I hope you understand.”

Rina looked skeptical. “Fine. Hey, I’m throwing a party next Saturday. How about you come with your ‘girlfriend’, hmm? I’d love to meet her.”

Minho wiped away some sweat as he nodded. “Yeah, totally...she’d love to come.”

Rina smiled. “Great!”

•••

When you heard the door open, you made it a point to avoid looking at him, your eyes trained on the TV.

“Hey.”

You heard the whisper behind you, but elected to ignore it.

Minho plopped down next to you, holding out a paper bag. “I got you macarons.”

You whipped your head around at that, your eyes lighting up. He put the bag in your hand, watching as you opened it excitedly, taking a bite out of one macaron. Your face contorted with ecstasy as you moaned. Minho chuckled.

“I don’t think I wanna witness you having sex with a macaron, so I’m gonna ask you now...am I forgiven?”

“For what?”

“For being late to our Movie Night yesterday...and also my rude behavior in the morning.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I forgive you. But only because of these.” You pointed to the bag and he laughed, then remembered why he went to the store to get you the sweets in the first place.

“Um...there’s a favour I’d like to ask of you...”

You turned around to face him, cheeks stuffed with the dessert. He held in his laughter- you looked like a chipmunk.

“Ugh, this is serious, okay? Stop being so goofy, you doofus.”

You swallowed what was in your mouth. “Sorry. Continue?”

He inhaled deeply. “I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend for a week.”

You sat there, stunned.

“W...what? Why?”

“Well...there’s this girl I didn’t fuck last night. And...she’s pretty pissed at me. So I may or may not have told her that I have a girlfriend...”

You shook your head. “And you’re asking me to do this because...?”

“Because you’re my only female friend?”

You let out a huge sigh, setting the bag on the table. “So these weren’t just an apology, they’re a bribe?”

“No! it’s just something I bought to convince you into doing what I wanted, since I knew you would say no immediately...oh wait, I guess it was a bribe after all.”

“Minho...I have a life, you know? And I’ve got better things to do than pretend to date you.” Although you couldn’t imagine what would be better than an excuse to hold Minho’s hands, even briefly...you drifted off, imagining Minho being your boyfriend, a giddy smile appearing on your face.

“Y/n?”

You snapped out of it, eyes shooting open. “Wha...?”

Then again, this was a bad idea. Having to pretend to be in love with Minho when you actually were wouldn’t end well, and you told yourself that mentally.

“Absolutely not. I’m not gonna set aside my commitments to prance around as your girlfriend just because you made a mistake, and didn’t fuck one girl.”

Minho exhaled.

“Y/n...the girl’s father is the Chief of Police. She told me she’d report me to him as a sexual offender. And even if I somehow convince her not to do that, there are a thousand other girls who would want to do stuff like that as well, girl who would kill to get some revenge on me. I...need to clear my reputation. Scrub the slate blank. Please help me.”

Your eyes wide, you digested this information. Fuck, you really had no choice.

“I...”

He looked away. “It’s fine, y/n, you don’t have to agree. You’re right. I got myself into this mess...I kinda deserve it.”

He got up to leave, but your arm shot up to hold him in place. “Wait!”

Your eyes took in his hopeful face and you melted. Ugh. You hated the effect he had on you.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

A wide grin spread across his face as he surged forward, wrapping you in a tight hug. He pressed his nose into your neck and you almost sighed. Was this a bad idea? Would you regret it?

As Minho pulled away, his wide smile still present on his face, your heart softened.

Nah. This was the right thing to do. After all, what good is a best friend if he’s in jail?

[sunlightdances]

Happy Mistake (College!Bucky x Reader Oneshot)

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Request from @jbbuckybarnes​: Being assigned roommates with modern!Bucky. He's a giant and looks like he's a bully, but he's actually so shy and soft. Author’s Note: *It’s been 84 years.gif* So sorry this took so long! Note: There’s note writing in this fic - italics are the Reader, and bold are from Bucky. PS - I listened to the playlist “Relaxing Classical Strings” on Spotify whilst writing and I highly recommend it. Disclaimer: I don’t own Bucky Barnes, Marvel, or any related characters from the MCU. Please don’t repost my work on any other sites (including collections or hosting sites) without my permission! Reblogs are gold. I’d love to hear from you if you like this!

You’re sweating a little as you unpack your last box, wondering why colleges always pick the absolute hottest day of the year to have everyone move in.

You step back and admire your work - your bookshelf is organized and you’ve got one of your favorite scented candles burning on your nightstand. You can already picture yourself studying here, and staying up too late drinking homemade cocktails with your roommate.

Loud voices from the living room draw your attention, and you feel those nervous butterflies - you hope you get along with your roommate for this year. Last year was definitely an adventure, and not in a good way. You’re just praying this person is nice and considerate.

Heading out to the common area you stop in your tracks, seeing three guys lugging in boxes. They smile at you a little curiously, but don’t say much. You look around them for your roommate, but you have no idea what they look like. You’re a little embarrassed to admit that you can’t remember what their name is either - you lost that handy piece of information almost immediately after it was mailed to your parents’ house over the summer.

“Hi,” One of the guys says, holding out his hand. He’s tall, well built, with dark hair that looks like he spent an hour coiffing it just right. His eyes are the most distracting thing about him. “I’m James, but everyone calls me Bucky.”

You smile and tell him your name. “I’m waiting for my roommate - are you helping her move in?”

His smile fades. “Are you kidding?”

You feel your face get hot. “... No?”

He stares at you so intensely you can practically feel it. “Where’s your friend? Are you helping him?”

“Holy shit, dude.” His friend - large, blonde, and a smile out of a magazine - says, laughing.

James sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We have to go to the RA. I think they made a mistake.”

You frown. “What are you talking about? How would you even know? You’re not--”

“Your roommate? It’s me.” He digs in his pocket for a letter from the University, handing it to you. Right there, in bold letters, it reads James Barnes, Easton Hall, 305.

Your stomach sinks when you realize what happened. “Oh. Right -- I don’t know how this could have happened.”

He groans, turning to his friend. “Remember when you said moving in for a second year would be easy? You’re a jinx.”

You fold your arms over your stomach, trying to stave off the urge to cry. It’s not your fault or his fault, but you just wished this wasn’t happening. You just wanted an easy year for once.

“Hey,” James’ friend says, looking at you with so much concern you almost believe you’ve known him longer than 5 minutes. “It’s going to be fine.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

“God. Stop flirting.” James complains, elbowing Steve.

Steve looks annoyed, “Shut up. Let’s go fix this before one or both of you are homeless.”

The RA was almost zero help. They gave you plenty of sympathetic looks, but otherwise had no idea what to do to fix your situation.

Back in the dorm, you sit helplessly on the end of your bed, trying to ignore James on the phone in the common area.

You look up when he comes into the room, knocking lightly on the door frame. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You reply, wondering if you look as pathetic as you feel. Your insides are a twisted up ball of anxiety.

“The admissions office was no help. They said they’d have to sort it out and with everyone moving in, they might not have a free room for either of us for a few days.”

You nod, and he tilts his head slightly to one side. “Hey, this isn’t your fault.”

You huff. “I know, I just-- I wanted this year to be better than last year and it’s already off to a terrible start.”

His eyes are sparkling a little as he pretends to be offended. “Most girls would be excited at the prospect of sharing a dorm with me, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes. “I guess you better get unpacked. Who knows when or if they’ll ever get back to you.”

He winks so you know he was joking before. “You can call me Bucky,” he says offhandedly. “All my friends do.”

.

.

.

That was three months ago, and you’re still living with Bucky Barnes.

You’re making it work, but it’s still an awkward conversation every time you have friends over. You still haven’t told your parents.

You’re an adult, but you’re still sure your Dad would flip knowing you’re living with a very eligible bachelor. Very eligible, as you’ve learned.

You’ve never met someone who goes on as many dates as Bucky does. Some of them you’re positive are just friends, and he invites you out with them sometimes, but it still feels weird. Most of the time you stay in, opting to study instead of third wheeling it with Bucky.

You’ve taken to leaving each other notes around the dorm when the other one is out - the only way you can think to get a message across sometimes.

All out of milk, stop at the store on your way home?

You leave that message taped to the fridge in the morning when you leave before him, and when you get home in the afternoon, there’s a new note in its place.

Forgot the milk, but got chocolate chip cookies. Priorities? Then, scrawled smaller, (sorry. Will buy in the morning)

You roll your eyes, but eat two of the cookies while you’re doing your homework later that night after dinner.

The next morning, you hear the door a few times and are just about ready to open your bedroom door and throw a fit when you hear Bucky shush someone.

“Dude, can you please speak at a normal volume for someone at six in the morning? She’s asleep--”

“Sorry, I’m a morning person.” You recognize Steve’s voice and roll your eyes, rolling back over and hoping for a few more hours of sleep before your first class.

Meanwhile, Bucky follows Steve out of the dorm, trying to keep his steps light and quiet as he shuts the door behind them.

Steve chuckles, and Bucky glares. Pretty standard for this pair of friends.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just so worried about her. It’s cute.” He ducks away from Bucky’s punch.

“Shut up.”

“Really, dude. Don’t think I missed the way you looked at her on move-in day. When are you going to do something about it?”

Bucky runs a hand through his hair, “It’s a bad idea.” Steve scoffs, and Bucky continues, “Seriously. We’re roommates. If something happened and it didn’t work out--”

“How do you know it won’t work out?”

“Just drop it, okay?”

Steve shakes his head, but doesn’t push it any further. Bucky swallows his feelings down, down, down. He can at least admit to himself that Steve’s right about one thing: when he first met you and thought you were his roommate’s friend or sister or something, he was ready to lay on the charm.

You’re beautiful, and funny, and there’s something about you that sticks with him like glue. He can’t shake the feeling, and he really doesn’t want to.

But he’s afraid, too. Because what if it does ruin everything? If he’s honest, you’re the best roommate he’s ever had. And not just because the dynamic between you two is good, even though that’s definitely part of it. But you’re courteous, and you do small things like set the coffee maker up the night before so there’s hot coffee on mornings when he gets up earlier than you do.

You leave him a reminder on the kitchen counter not to forget his notebook, the one with the torn cover that he always loses. You check on him if he’s staying up too late and you make sure to buy the ice cream he likes when it’s your turn to do the shopping.

It’s like you actually care about him beyond just being his roommate, and he’s never felt that kind of connection with anyone before.

At that, he has to keep himself from stopping dead in his tracks as he walks with Steve.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

.

.

.

Bucky comes home while you’re tugging on a sweater, getting ready to leave for your first class. You lean out of the door, smiling, but he heads straight for the shower and shuts the bathroom door.

You frown; it’s unlike him to ignore you completely.

You figure he’s tired after his run with Steve, but can’t get rid of the niggling worry in the back of your mind that something’s wrong.

The day drags on, and you find yourself nearly falling asleep during your last class - your mind elsewhere and attention lacking. Towards the end of class, you text Bucky, asking him if he’s going to be home for dinner.

No response.

Not unusual, but to your anxiety brain? You immediately start thinking the worst. You’re replaying every conversation from the last week, trying to remember if you’ve done anything that could have possibly made him upset.

When you get home, his bedroom door is shut, but the light is on. You try to go about business as usual, writing him a note that there’s dinner in the fridge and sliding it under the door when he still doesn’t come out, even after an hour of meal prepping.

Taking the hint, you take your own meal into your bedroom and shut the door.

After an hour or so, you try not to feel hurt when you hear his door opening, and then the sound of the front door. No matter how hard you try not to take it personally, you can’t help it when your stomach sinks.

He doesn’t come back that night.

Or the next two.

By day three, you’ve moved on from hurt and have settled on anger.

There are no more notes, no anything to indicate that he’s been in the dorm at all and has just missed you. There’s nothing.

This goes on for a few more days before you’re sitting on the couch, listening to a key being put in the lock. Your heart starts to race, and you sort of hate yourself for leaning forward, waiting for him to step into view.

It’s not Bucky.

Steve looks sheepish, even a little upset as he gives you a wave, shoving the keys in his pocket. “Hey,” he says quietly. “I’m uh-- Bucky asked me to get a few things.”

You don’t even know what to say. This feels like a break up, except you and Bucky have never been together, and you have no idea why he’s not sleeping here, or why he’s not talking to you.

Your throat starts to tighten as you fight off the threat of tears.

And it’s worse because Steve looks embarrassed, and he looks sorry for you and he’s so nice, and you hate it. You don’t want him to pity you.

You just watch helplessly as he goes into Bucky’s room, the sound of drawers opening and closing the only thing you hear for a few minutes before he comes back, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Look, I-- I told him he should talk to you. I don’t really know what happened--”

“Nothing happened.” You say, frustrated. “I just came home one day and he ignored me and he’s been ignoring me ever since.”

Steve’s jaw ticks. “What day was that?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. A few days ago. When you and he went for a run early in the morning.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry. I think-- I need to go talk to him. Hang in there, okay?” He ruffles your hair as he leaves, and you realize he’s left Bucky’s bag behind.

.

.

.

Bucky is staring at his phone when Steve comes back, slamming the door behind him. “Christ,” Bucky mutters. “What’s your problem?”

“You’re my problem.”

Bucky frowns, looking up to see his best friend looking pissed.

“I just went to your dorm. Your roommate was there.”

Bucky feels the familiar feeling of guilt and self loathing come over him, but doesn’t know what to say, so he lets Steve continue with his tirade.

“She had no idea you were here. She had no idea why you were gone, and she had no idea what she did wrong.” Steve puts his hands on his hips. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You made it seem like you guys had a fight or something! And then she said you’ve been ignoring her ever since our conversation the other day. If you’re really pushing her away because I was giving you a hard time--”

“That’s not what’s happening.”

“Then why the hell are you sleeping on my couch?” Steve asks exasperated. “It’s not like I don’t like having you here, but come on, dude.”

Bucky swallows heavily, trying to get his bearings. “You were right, okay?” He says it quietly. “I’m-- getting attached.”

Steve watches him carefully. “I think you need to be telling her this, not me.”

Bucky rubs his face. “I know.”

Steve smiles slyly. “I forgot your clothes. Looks like you need to go home.”

.

.

.

Bucky feels like an idiot.

He’s knocking on the door to his own dorm because he was in such a rush to leave Steve’s, he forgot his key.

And now he’s waiting for you to open the door, half sure that you’re going to slap him across the face when you see him.

The door opens, and he’s struck by the sight of you. You look sad. But you’re beautiful, and he has no idea how he thought he was ever going to be able to live with you, see you every day, and not fall head over heels for you.

“Bucky.” You sound surprised.

“Um-- I forgot my key.”

“Oh, sure. Uh-- come in.”

He follows you inside, and takes a deep breath. “I think we need to talk.”

You look apprehensive, and he hates himself for doing this to you. You sit down on the couch and he does the same thing, mirroring you.

“I owe you an apology. I didn’t -- I shouldn’t have just left. Or ignored your texts. I’m sorry.”

You shrug, “It’s not like-- you don’t owe me--”

“Yes, I do.” Bucky is adamant. “Look - when we first met, I was really unsure how we were going to get through this. Obviously we weren’t meant to be living together. But now I can’t imagine it any other way.”

You laugh, though it still sounds a little sad. “I thought you were this big, scary guy.” You look down at your lap, wringing your hands. “I was really wrong about you.”

Bucky wants nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms and make up for every sad feeling you’ve had over the last few days.

“I’m sorry. I never should have ignored you. I was-- I was kind of panicking.”

You tilt your head. Bucky thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “Why would you be panicking?”

He decides to just bite the bullet. “I think I have feelings for you.” At your quick inhale, he shakes his head, “No, I know I have feelings for you. You just-- crept up on me. And I freaked out, because Steve kept getting on my case about it, and--”

His rambling is stopped when you grab his arm, tugging him towards you before throwing your arms around his neck in a tight hug. Bucky freezes at first, but soon melts into you, sighing at your touch and burying his face in your neck.

“I missed you,” you whisper, and Bucky feels his knees go weak. How he ever thought you weren’t going to have him wrapped around your finger, he has no idea.

“I missed you too. I’m sorry.”

.

.

.

6 months later

“Buck?”

“I’m coming--”

“We’re going to be late…”

“We’re not going to be late. We’re going to be early, because you think early is on time.” He comes out of the bedroom, pulling his leather jacket on. He grins at you, voice softening. “Look at you.”

You feel your face heat. “Stop it,”

“What? I can’t compliment my girl?”

“If we’re late again, Steve is going to roast you. And if he doesn’t, Peggy will.”

Bucky grabs your hand, rolling his eyes. “You worry too much. Come on.” As you’re walking, he’s muttering under his breath about double dates, but you can tell he’s happy to go out - the both of you have been so swamped with school, you’ve been shut up in your dorm for days.

The day after your talk with Bucky, you slowly but surely began working your way towards a relationship. It wasn’t hard - you were already close friends, and without the fear of thinking either of you were going to be rejected, it was easy to take the next step.

Now, as you walk through the building hand in hand, you’re so grateful that someone in the housing department screwed up.

From the spark in Bucky’s eye as he winks at you, you think he is too.

[somethinginthethunder]

everything is gonna be alright (dumb with love pt. 2) [joe mazzello x reader]

s o b it’s here!! i’m so sorry this is late :’) i think i kind of like this one more? i dunno! but i’m just going to say that you probably don’t need to read the first part to this story! it works separately! hope you enjoy, because i swear i suck at series. if i have any mistakes i need to edit, do tell! thank you for being patient!

word count: 2211

summary: another visit to your grandmother, and this time, joe will be coming along!

tw: none, except maybe mentions of possible death and a sick family member.

reblogs, comments, and any interaction is greatly appreciated if it is sincere!! please don’t feel obligated to do so if you don’t want to :)

___

How did this happen? You weren’t sure.

No, actually, you were exactly sure.

It was those damn letters. The letters that got you to take more than one look at your neighbor. The one letter that sparked the whole thing in all.

And now, here you were. Ah, yes, you, your boyfriend of a couple of years, and full-grown dog who insisted on sleeping right between the two of you, legs sprawled out.

Joe was supposedly asleep beside you, with Hades facing him, his nose and paws twitching as he seemed to be having a dream.

Meanwhile, you were getting no sleep. Laying on your side, you were texting with your father. Apparently, you grandmother was only getting sicker.

It seemed like she had been doing well, but now her health was spiralling down, almost twice as worse. And you didn’t want to imagine what might happen if it kept going.

Papa Can you make it next week?

Me I can see :(

Papa Ok dear, tell me when you arrive. Your mother, sister and I will be here.

Me For sure <3 but how long does she have left?

Papa A few more weeks, maybe, if she’s lucky. I dunno, n/n. But she wants to see you and Joe.

Me Got it-- i’ll update you soon. Love you, Papa

Papa Love you, too, sweetheart.

Although it didn’t look like it, you were more than worried. Only a few weeks left? That wasn’t enough time. Not enough time for her to see her grandkids grow up. Not enough time to see them get married, not enough time to travel back to her home country one last time without being miserable. Just not enough time.

It hurt.

“Y/n? Baby, why are you awake?” Joe asked, squinting at his phone screen to see what time it was.

Wiping away the developing tears, you turned off your phone and turned to face your boyfriend.

“No reason,” you murmured, looking over Hades’ head and fur to initiate eye contact with him. Of course, his face screamed that he knew you were lying. 

“It’s like, two in the morning, and you usually love sleep. What’s wrong?” he mumbled quietly, reaching over the dog to intertwine hands.

“My grandma is sick,” you finally admitted. “Well, getting sicker, that is.”

His eyes became more awake at this. Usually, that wasn’t a strange statement to him, but from the time you were telling him this and the way you said the sentence itself, it sounded worse than all the other times he had heard it.

Squeezing you hand gently, he asked, “How much longer?”

“A couple of weeks.”

Some silence to let the information settle in his mind.

“Well, we better visit her soon, then, right?” he said, almost optimistically.

Exhaling, a bit amused, you nodded. “Yeah, soon. But I’ve got a lot of requests, and I’ll have to reschedule some appointments-”

“It’ll be okay, they’ll understand,” Joe insisted, knowing where you were going with this. If you had to take a trip somewhere on a short notice, it usually meant disappointing some costumers and even angering a few, too. Which you always hated doing, putting yourself to the highest standards.

“But what about all th-”

“It’ll be okay,” he repeated. “I promise. Besides, i’m here to help take care of everything anyway,” he reassured, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand comfortingly. “We can figure this out when the sun is actually awake. I’ll be here, it’ll be alright.”

“Okay,” you agreed tiredly, still a little on edge with everything. But your body seemed to say sleep was the number one priority.

“Okay,” he echoed quietly, releasing your hand momentarily to brush the hair away from your face before intertwining hands again. “Goodnight, n/n. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Joe.”

Days later, you were back in your hometown, with Joe helping your carry luggage out and into your father’s car. 

“There you guys are! The rest of us are waiting with your grandmother in her room,.” you father laughed, giving you a kiss on the forehead when he exited the vehicle.

“Hey, Papa,” you said brightly, giving him a brief hug before putting the last of the luggage into the trunk.

“Where’s that little dog of yours?” 

“He’s with one of my friends, so he’ll be fine,” Joe answered, coming back from putting his share away.

“Ah, Joseph!” your father said enthusiastically, giving him a tight hug as well, to which Joe returned gratefully.

When you first introduced your boyfriend to your family, they were ecstatic that you had found someone. Admittedly, you father was harder to get to, but it wasn’t long before they were asking you about him if he was at work, or asking when marriage and children were coming along.

It was a bit embarrassing at times, admittedly.

Upon arriving at your grandmother’s hospital room, the first thing you noticed was your poor grandma and the gifts all around her. It seemed her old friends and neighbors had gotten message of her worsening condition, as well.

Sitting right next to her was your mother and younger sister.

“Oh, Joe, Y/n, you’re here,” your mother said first, relieved. She gave the both of you a hug, giving you a kiss on the cheek and squeezing your boyfriend’s arm, as if trying to make sure you were both really there.

“Hey, m/n,” he greeted, resting a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. 

“Mama,” you said, giving her an almost melancholy smile.

“Jeez, not even a hello?” s/n said, feigning annoyance as she stood.

You rolled your eyes playfully at your sister, giving her a hug as well. “If you were patient, then you would’ve gotten one,” you said, mocking her a little while doing so.

“Whatever, this is why Joe is my favorite out of the both of you,” she teased, hugging you in return before giving the same greeting to your boyfriend.

You gasped. “I am offended!” you said, as the two of them let out a hearty laugh.

“Well, I am honored,” Joe answered, playing along.

The laughter of you all quieted down quickly, since the last person you were to greet was your dear grandmother. She was sitting up in her bed, a fond smile on her face as she watched the interactions between the two of you.

“The gang’s all together?” she questioned, shakily opening her arms for a hug. You took up the space immediately, wrapping your arms around her gently. Her scent was exactly the same as always, with that hint of cinnamon and the garden she usually kept behind her home.

“Oh, yes, Grandma,” you nodded, trying to imprint this moment into your mind forever, since you didn’t really exactly know how long she was going to stay here.

“Where’s my great-grandbabies?” she scolded out of the blue.

You gave out a laugh. “We don’t have children yet!” you exclaimed, pulling away to let Joe take your place.

“Oh, well, you guys will do,” she sighed, grinning as she saw Joe come for the hug. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, mumbling something about youngsters these days taking longer than in her time.

It was peaceful, it was quiet. Somewhere, in the back of everyone’s minds (except perhaps the woman in question), you all knew that these moments will be the most precious ones created in all this year. 

Despite being so sick, it seemed like she could talk forever, talking about her childhood friends, what her husband would’ve done if he were still alive, or whatever a neighbor told her last month about the damn animals getting into their gardens and eating the plants.

This went on for the days you stayed there. You all stayed in hotels, but occasionally visited her home to check up on everything that was left there.

Your stay lasted only four days, as you and Joe had work, of course, but you were leaving terribly late in the night. Because of this, you both had opted to spend pretty much the whole day with her, starting really early in the morning. The rest of your family would come later to see you off.

Oddly, your grandma seemed to only want to see Joe for a moment.

“Out of the room, n/n, I need to give this boy a talking before y’all go,” she said, insisting you leave the room.

Reluctantly respecting your grandmother’s wishes, you left and shut the door behind you.

Once you were allowed back in, Joe didn’t say anything, and neither did you grandma. You were worried she threatened him or something, but doubted it a lot since they both seemed to be in good spirits. Hell, Joe seemed even happier than before. 

And when the rest of your family had arrived hours later, Joe stood up from his place, receiving another kiss on the cheek from your grandmother. You could’ve sworn she said, ‘good luck’.

Clearing his throat, he turned to you, almost nervous. 

“Y/n,” he started, pausing to make sure he had everyone’s attention. “I bet you can remember the first thing that really had us talking. You needed to visit your grandmother and I had decided I would dog-sit Hades.”

Another pause.

“And I bet you remember the misplaced letter, and the one I gave you the moment I got the courage to ask you out,” he continued. “And I bet you remember that that was a long time ago. Well, really only a couple of years ago, but still.” A gradual smile seemed to grow on his face and the others around you.

However, this moment seemed to be taking longer to process for you.

“Well, I think those letters were the greatest thing to happen to me. If it hadn’t gotten us to notice each other, I bet I wouldn’t be standing here right now. I bet I wouldn’t have been walking barefoot with you in a park as we laughed at all our past mistakes. I bet I wouldn’t be nearly as much in your life as I am now.” Suddenly, his hand went to his pocket, reaching for something.

Oh. Oh.

“And every day, I keep reminding myself how lucky it is that that had happened. How lucky I am to know you and be apart of your life,” he added. “Because of that, I’d like to make sure that I stay in your life till the end of time, and that, hopefully, you’d like to stay in mine, too.”

And suddenly, he was down on one knee, a velvet box open in his hand with a modest ring sitting on a little cushion. 

“So, that begs the question, y/n.” You barely registered the gasp coming from mother, and the eager recording of the situation by your sister. 

“Will you marry me?”

Those words. Oh, you had dreamt of those words ever since you could comprehend the meaning of love and marriage as a little girl. They set your heart on fire, and to say you were surprised was an understatement. It made you shoot out of your seat, your hand coming to your mouth in shock.

He had a nervous smile on his face as he looked up at you, waiting patiently for your answer. 

“Yes,” you said. “I- oh my lord, yes!” you repeated, almost not believing the situation at hand.

That was all Joe needed, because not even a second later he was standing again, wrapping his arms around you and giving you a loving kiss. Cheers had erupted in the room and somehow from in the hall beside you (some people had noticed this little proposal).

The ring was perfect, nothing too flashy, but more than enough. And it fit perfectly on your ring finger.

Your father gave Joe a pat on the back, more than happy with the outcome, and your sister waited excitedly for you to show her your new ring. There were near tears in your mother’s eyes, and your grandma? She looked the happiest she could’ve ever been since becoming confined to the hospital building. You caught a little twinkle in her eyes, which told her that perhaps she had something to do with this. Actually, she definitely had something to do with it.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” your new fiance said, repeated the words under his breath when you parted from the kiss. His forehead leaned on yours as he looked into your eyes. For a moment, everyone had forgotten their troubles.

“How long did you plan this?” you asked quietly and curiously.

“I didn’t!” he laughed. “Well, proposing? For a long time, actually, but not how. Your grandmother organized it this morning, had even talked to your family before asking me to pop the question. The ring was her mother’s. Think she said she found it only a few days before being moved to the hospital. Did you like it?” “The ring or the proposal?” “Both,” he shrugged.

“I loved it,” you said, entangling your hands in his hair. “And I love you.”

“Good. Because I love you, too!”

In that moment, you knew everything was gonna be alright.

Everything was gonna be okay.

____

the end!! i might add another part fast forward in time, ngl. if you guys want to see that, then sure! i will probably also be adding joe’s p.o.v. when he was talking with your grandma about the sudden proposal. 

and just to make sure: they did not make him propose, obviously, if it seemed like that. she of course cleared it up and made sure it was something he wanted to do!!

anyway, here’s the taglist for what i’m assuming is this fic only. please ask if you’d like to be added to the permanent taglist!

@coincidence-ithinknots-blog @iamthebeth

permanent taglist:

@madamsledge

[ahgaseda]

two can keep a secret || chapter 03

⇥ synopsis : when your father reveals his intention to remarry, you find an unlikely confidant in Mark, your soon-to-be stepbrother, but what began as a revenge fling ironically becomes far more complicated...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, recurring alcohol and drug use, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

The bass made your ears pound. You took another sip from your red cup and let a long, exasperated breath pass through your nose. To say you were bored would be a massive understatement.

Mark was in another room somewhere, blazing it up. Your best friend had yet to show up and you were suddenly reevaluating all of your priorities in life, courtesy of the alcohol.

The fall semester would start soon and you still had no earthly clue of what to major in. For the time being, you tried a different variation of courses, hoping one would tickle your fancy. Thus far, you skated through them all like a perpetually sleep-deprived zombie.

Mark appeared, quite literally in a cloud of smoke, and whispered, “Hey, sexy.”

“Dance with me,” you blurted, glancing past him at the horde of bodies grinding to the music.

Mark snorted. “I can’t be caught dancing with my soon-to-be sister.”

He had a point. Disgruntled, you chugged a mouthful of your drink and grumbled, “The stepsister you fuck on the regular?”

“On the down low,” Mark reminded, almost inaudibly.

“Fine. Fuck off,” you snapped, pushing his chest to get him out of your space. “I don’t need you to have fun.”

Mark cocked an eyebrow, amused by your tipsy rhetoric. “Oh, really?”

You bobbed your head. “Any one of these guys would be delighted to date me.”

“All of these guys just wanna get in your pants,” Mark deadpanned. There was an edge to his voice, sharp like a razor. Though he had no right to be, Mark was territorial of your body and he was not the least bit inclined to let another man try to pleasure you.

Scowling, you hissed, “You are a pain in my ass.”

Mark crept closer and teased, “Just say the word and I’ll fuck that hole, too.”

“I hate you.”

“Sure you do.”

Of course you didn’t, but you were still bored as hell and the banter with your almost stepbrother was the most entertainment you'd had at this damned party. Pay attention to me, was what you wanted to say. In the most childish, obnoxious way possible. Vodka was not your friend, you realized.

“Maybe I should play the field,” you said, shrugging before coming in for the kill. “Since my regular dick appointment only dicks me down in our parents' house as some kind of twisted, spiteful…”

Mark put a hand over your mouth and warned, “Don’t fucking try me.”

You blinked in surprise.

Mark let his palm fall from your lips, the sight of them overwhelmingly inviting. Clearing his throat, Mark dismissed himself before he kissed you in front of everyone and murmured, “I’m gonna go find a drink.”

“Yeah, you do that,” you sneered, watching him go.

Despite how much you ran your mouth, you weren’t an idiot. Neither was Mark. The two of you knew exactly how this game was played and you had unwittingly became professionals in the art of keeping such a deadly secret.

However, you weren’t immune to alcohol’s ability to remove all inhibitions.

Crossing the room, you approached the host of the bash and exclaimed, “Jackson, be a good wingman and point me in the direction of the boy with the biggest dick.”

Jackson lifted a brow and retorted, “I’m right here, sunshine.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Alright, here we go,” Jackson said, taking your hand and leading you at his side. “Gotta keep the hoes well-fed.”

You were in desperate need of someone to keep you entertained. Your alcohol-hazed mind was fixated on smacking you across the face for having no ideas for your future. The last thing you wanted to do was rehash your failures as a young adult, but the more you tried to ignore the internal chastisements, the more your brain decided to think about your father and his upcoming marriage.

Which you hated even more than yourself.

Jackson brought you to the most stereotypical frat guy you could have ever imagined and made quick work of introductions. “This is Chris. You’re both horny and hot. Enjoy.”

You chortled.

At the other end of the room, Mark put the drink to his lips and took a big gulp, watching you intently over the rim of his cup. He did his best to rationalize his irritation. It didn’t hurt for you to talk to some dude at a party. Talking was harmless.

You laughed and Mark bristled. He loved making you laugh. Your reaction to whatever Chris had said obviously gave him confidence, because he moved even closer to you and you didn’t back away.

Mark angled in the other direction. You’re a fucking idiot, he told himself, but his anger was blowing his high. He wanted to freely be with you in front of everyone. Secrets were hard and not his forte. Mark was honest to a fault and struggled to hide how he felt.

Though he wasn’t looking, Mark could hear your laugh again and he stomped away, in search of fresh air.

You saw him leave and your heart sank. Mark’s presence always put you at ease. Though your relationship was far from healthy, by most conventional standards, you were the first to admit you had forged an unshakable bond with your soon-to-be stepbrother.

Without him hovering nearby, you felt vulnerable and alone.

Chris took initiative and crept even closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. At first, you didn’t mind. The gesture didn’t make you uncomfortable.

But when his hand drifted downward and squeezed your ass, you were quick to push him away. “I don’t remember giving you permission to touch me.”

Chris whined, “Don’t be such a bitch. We’re vibing, aren’t we?”

You couldn’t believe your eyes when his arm encircled your waist and tugged you back into his grasp, but you were quick to snap, “Not enough for you to grope me. Get off.”

Chris was much stronger than you and had no intention of letting go of your body. You struggled against him for all of five seconds when someone appeared at your side and shoved Chris against the wall.

“Get your hands off her or I will break your fucking neck,” Mark threatened, crowding into his face.

You grabbed his arm and whispered, “Mark...”

Mark had a temper and a penchant for throwing fists instead of words. You knew he carried enough rage and pain inside him that there were times some of it had to come out or he would explode.

But physical altercations were extremely illegal.

“Geez, man. Don’t cock block me,” Chris exclaimed, as if he was the victim in this scenario. “She’s not your real sister.”

Mark rounded on him again and you knew your grip on his arm would not dissuade Mark from beating the shit out of this guy if he so desired. “She’s way out of your league and doesn’t want a douche like you touching her. Back the fuck off,” Mark warned for the last time.

Chris must have sensed that Mark was on the verge of breaking his face and he finally surrendered, holding up his hands. “Alright, alright. For fuck’s sake, man.”

Mark didn’t take his eyes off of him until Chris was out of sight. Meanwhile, your gaze was glued to Mark and how safe and protected he made you feel.

“Mark,” you called softly.

Mark finally looked at you, his expression full of annoyance. “Try to stay out of trouble, will you?”

You shook your head in dissension. “Take me upstairs now.”

Mark’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“You know why.”

Mark knew that tone anywhere. He had become quite the expert since the first time he was between your legs. With a smirk, he tilted his head toward the nearby stairs and you followed him without a second thought.

The first room he tried was locked and by the sounds coming from inside, babies were being made rather loudly. You giggled in amusement as Mark pulled you with him down the hallway, trying the next door and finding it open.

Mark dragged you inside and the moment he had shut and locked the door behind you both, you spun into his arms and pushed him against the wall, smashing your lips on his.

“I made you wet, huh?” Mark growled against your mouth, smirking darkly.

You moaned his name when you felt his hands roaming over your hips then grabbing your ass. Before you could reply, Mark lifted you into the air, guiding your legs around his waist.

He propped you on the dresser and hiked up your miniskirt. You tangled your arms through his, unbuckling his belt and fiddling at the zipper on his jeans. Mark parted from your kisses only momentarily to yank the panties down your legs, stuffing them in his back pocket before pushing down his pants.

Your eyes locked with his as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and felt him pushing inside you. Mark let out a shaky breath on your lips, coaxing himself deep into your cunt.

“Fuck, Mark,” you whimpered, your head falling back and resting against the wall. You set your nails to his shoulders and grit your teeth when he finally started thrusting, jostling you harshly on the dresser.

Mark grunted and nipped at your lips, stealing back your attention. “Mm, this pussy stays so tight for me.”

His voice made you shiver and you were quick to croon, “Only you, baby.”

“Look at me,” Mark said sternly, slowing down.

You stared into his dark eyes, mouth parted in pleasure.

Mark grabbed your jaw none too gently and whispered, “If you fuck another guy, I think I’d have to kill him…”

You gaped at him, lost for words, though your cunt gripped him tightly with arousal. Mark raked his tongue over his teeth, pleased at the look on your face, and cast his gaze down to watch where your bodies connected - watching you accept him deep, every inch of his cock disappearing inside your wet pussy.

This was why you could never give Mark grief over his bad habits. You were as much an addict as he was, and he was your drug. From the first time you were in his arms, on your back in his car as he kissed you with abandon, you knew you were fucked.

There was a spark; a concept you always snorted at, because something couldn’t possibly exist. Hell, your mother and father had a love for the ages, or so you thought. Then you saw how easily your father moved on and you realized you were a fool. Love was stupid, hollow and you’d be damned if you ever let yourself experience it.

No, you knew exactly what the spark between you and Mark was; lust, pure and simple. Driven by anger and fueled by the forbidden nature of your relationship. There would never be such unadulterated passion and pleasure between you if there wasn’t such a dark motive behind the sex. Right?

A moan escaped you, tearing you from your reverie. Mark pounded you against the wall, his sounds of ecstasy filling your ears. Every smack of his hips drove away your thoughts, made you forget your bitterness and grief. You tucked your face in the crook of his neck, clinging to him for dear life as Mark brought you to the edge of your release. Physical, emotional; all of it.

The bass thrummed through the walls, syncing to the pulse between your legs. When the music swelled, Mark fucked you to orgasm, swallowing your screams of his name with the most heady of caresses of his tongue between your teeth.

When he shook and swore, you cradled his face in your hands and kissed the corner of his mouth, flexing your legs to grip your velvet walls around his sensitive cock. He hissed through his teeth, a trembling moan your reward.

“As long as I have you,” you whispered when he had finally become still, though he stayed deep within you. “I’ll never fuck another man.”

Though you didn’t demand he do the same, Mark pressed his lips to yours, a searing wet seal of a promise with his words. “All I need is you, baby…”

chapter 02 ⇤ chapter 03 ⇥ chapter 04

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[floosies]

La Munenca del Barrio

A/N: I think imma make a masterlist for the series after this chapter. Just so ya’ll know. I’m also already working on chapter 4

Summary/AN: This a passion project really, I’ve written previously using the mob!au so this a second attempt in that genre (i guess you could call it).

Warnings: Blood, violence, smut, strong language, and drug use

Rocio Cruz lives in a Brooklyn block best known for its vibrant and ignored community. What she always ignored though was the underground scene in the borough, the evils that lay in it and its people. That all comes to an end when she’s introduced to those things she ignored.

Chapter 3: Mil Cosas 

Masterlist

Steve Rogers was a man who had seen a lot. He’d seen both beautiful things and the most heart breaking scenes. She however was something else. He’d never swore that he wouldn’t love again after the death of his first love but this didn't stop him from admiring from afar. Her eyes changed his mind, he was starstruck by some girl he’d never met but of Wilson was right, he’d crossed paths with her in the past.

His thoughts were disrupted by Sam’s laugh, “take a seat you guys, I’ll get a waiter. Introduce yourselves.” The girl looked shaken up, she must know who he is. Bucky nudged Steve, “you’re Rafael Cruz’s daughter?” he blurted out. It was all he was thinking about, but it probably wasn’t the right thing to start of with. Nevertheless, she answered, “yes, I’m Rocio Cruz. It’s, it’s nice to meet you.” Her voice was like silk to him. He shook her hand, it was so fragile. 

Her mind was racing just as much as his, she had no clue what to say or do but answer his questions. They were shaking hands for too long, Bucky noticed and spoke, “I’m Bucky, by the way. How are ya enjoying Sam’s little get together?” He chuckled as she stared away from Steve now looking at this man with eyes so dulled you’d think he’d lived a lifetime already. He looked careless, “it’s very colorful.” She said looking around at all the bright lights that somehow masked all the drinking and drugs that were being passed around like candies.

Sam came back with a couple of waiters and took a seat next to Leticia who was having fun watching all the awkwardness. “You ready to order mami?” Sam asked wrapping his arm around her waist. She smiled at him, “ready if you are.” So drinks were ordered. Rocio knew better than to drink more than two glasses at any party, so she made it a priority to remember this was her last drink. 

Leticia was the center of attention at the table which Rocio was happy about. There a was a bit of quiet, that’s when it got interesting. The question was asked, “anyone wanna play in a bit of snow?” Whether she realized it or not, Rocio’s eyes widened at the sight of a small baggie with the snow white powder. She looked over to the other men, Bucky shrugged meanwhile Rubio looked serious. Leticia thought it was funny and well Cubano had a smirk. With a look of being blandness Bucky spoke up answering the question, “I’ll take a line, make this night easier.” Rocio stared at him make the lines and take the small metal pipe. Cubano and Leticia weren’t far behind. 

Again the usual suspects started talking and now Bucky was in on the conversation too. Steve kept looking over at the girl who had his attention, she looked a bit nervous but not as afraid. Sam groaned mid conversation, “you guys are boring, mami let’s go dance.” Leticia was up and out of the stall in a whirlwind. Bucky started laughing, “pal i’m gonna go look for Nat. You got it from here?” He asked his friend who just nodded.

Then it was just them two. He knew Rocio wasn’t going to be the one to start a conversation so he did, “i’m sorry about Sam, he can be eccentric at times.” He started with an apology because she looked a bit startled still. What she was really thinking is that she was now left alone with a man who owned where she lived basically. She shook her head smiling, “it’s not your fault, this is his party after all.” Steve just nodded. He messed around with his watch while she looked at the chaos that was the party. 

He felt beyond annoyed with himself, he was the boss of Brooklyn, the guy with so much blood on his hands he could practically swim in it. Yet, here this girl was making him more nervous than a kid who just caught stealing. Sighing he tried another conversation starter, “you speak spanish?” If he could have punched himself he would’ve, she’s half Puerto Rican and Mexican of course she spoke spanish. However, she laughed, “si, y tu?” He smiled, “un poco, Brooklyn me enseno con tiempo. Es importante saber como comunicar, verdad?” She smiled trying to hide her laugh, his accent was so thick as he spoke, but at least he could communicate in full sentences. 

They talked some more, he pointed out the people at the party who she should know. She learned about everyone, from the foreigners to Manhattan’s own billionaire mobster, he was one of the older players in the game who’d recently taken in some kid from Queens to mentor. He did warn about the Norwegian guys who looked like they were made in some sort of factory for scary looking muthafuckers. The one thing about Rocio is she always had good timing when it came to asking questions and as he finished rambling about how he came to power she asked, “so why’d you come to the party tonight?” That somehow shut him up.

Why had he come to the party, when there was obviously more important things he could’ve been doing. This was either his chance at a pick up line or at an actual answer, he chose the first. “Don’t know really, but after meeting you, I’d say it was a good choice to come. Te miras como una muneca, hice bien en quedarme.” She was blushing now, he could see some red forming around her cheeks. 

She was actually attracted to a guy who knew her dad, he wasn’t old but he was older than her. She was thankful she chose to only have two drinks, he kept staring at her though so she drank one more. After a while of him smiling at her like an idiot, she finally did it, “oye tengo algo en la cara? o que lio?” He laughed, “muneca lo unico que tiene esa cara es bellesa. Vamos a bailar?” He asked taking her hand. Before she could answer yes or no, they were already on the dance floor. 

As they danced she realized she didn’t have a clue how she was gonna get home. Leticia was somewhere with Cubano high as a kite and she was stuck with Rubio, which wasn’t so bad except it was getting late. One thing about Steve was that he could read people like a book, it’s why Blue eyes trusted him. The guy knew when someone was lying, mad, happy, etc. So he could see the stress in Rocio’s eyes. He took her to the side, where they could talk, “que tienes muneca?” She looked at him confused, “i’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.” She knew she was lying but he didn’t need to know that. “Don’t lie, I don’t appreciate lies.” His voice was stern but caring, it’s something he was good at as well, the whole changing tone with a situation.

He calmed down when realized she just needed to get home. It was a good enough excuse for him to leave as well, the party was becoming a damn drug orgy so he knew it was time to go. Thankfully his men were quick and got the car to him and Rocio in no time. She gave him her address, mainly because this was a man who’d find it anyways and she knew better than to play with him like that. His arm fell on top of her shoulder, “manana que haces?” he asked watching her eyes as she thought about it. She answered rolling her eyes at the fact she’d forgotten she had some clients who were gonna come over to get their nails done in the morning, “after that I have to get my sister and brother from school and help my mama make dinner for them. Es lo que siempre estoy haciendo.” He nodded, taking in what she’d said.

They arrived to where the apartments were. He knew them well, he’d always visit a couple people there who owed him favors. She was about to leave the car when he stopped her, “muneca dame tu telefono,” he said. She handed it over and within seconds he had her number and location. He gave it back, “solo manana tienes clientes?” He asked smoothly, she thought about it again, “si, estoy libre por la semana despues de manana. Porque?” He smirked, “bueno pues, I’ll text you. Tell your mama you’re not gonna be home on Monday alright? Dile que sales con amigas, we’re gonna go on a little trip. There’s alot I wanna talk to you about.” With that he took her other hand and kissed it, “goodnight munenca.” The car door closed after and all Rocio had running through her head was que ya se frego. 

[mca-attack21]

Riverdale: Deadly Definitions 7

AN: Boom! What’s up guys? This is my favorite part of DD so far. I’m not going to say any more because spoilers are bad. Comment if you want to be tagged in future posts (like @l4life did). Stay Gold!

Here are the other Parts: Part 1    Part 2    Part 3    Part 4   Part 5   Part 6

After seeing Archie giving Jason’s jersey to Mrs. Blossom, the football coach was impressed and gave him the spot as captain. Surprisingly enough, Archie passed on the opportunity. As much as he loved football, he knew that he couldn’t give it the level of commitment it deserved. After all, his priority right now was music.

Meanwhile Betty and Jughead were investigating her parents and the truth behind Polly. They had managed to get the name of the place she was being kept: The Sisters of Quiet Mercy. They went to visit her and were more than surprised to find that she was pregnant. Not only that, but she had no idea that Jason was dead. She told them that Jason was faking his death so that the two of them could run away together to a farm. She claimed that there was a car hidden under a road sign and that she was supposed to meet him there. She would’ve told them more but Mrs. Cooper intercepted them and forced them to leave.

Mrs. Cooper was furious that her daughter went behind her back. She told Betty to watch it because she was acting crazy like Polly. And with that Betty had it, she told her mom that the entire family was crazy. This caused Mrs. Cooper to storm out. Betty was overwhelmed with the new information. She hated her parents, the lies needed to stop. She had no idea what was true anymore. Later that night Jughead would sneak over and make sure that Betty was okay. That is when he kissed her for the first time. And thus Bughead was born.

Veronica was dealing with her own mother. She had seen that her mother was dealing with the Serpents, a gang from the Southside. Not only that, but she was lying about it. What really made Veronica lose it was the fact that her mother kissed Fred Andrews. They were both married. What did this mean about her father? Were her parents going to get a divorce?

Luckily, there was a distraction for everyone in the form of the 75th annual Riverdale High Variety Show which was directed by Kevin. Archie decided that this was going to be his big debut. You were happy for him, and excited to hear him sing a song that the two of you wrote together. When he was up, some of the football players yelled for him to stick to football. You rolled your eyes and then refocused your attention on Archie. He was frozen in place. And then he was running off stage in the other direction. You went after him and found him leaning against a locker.

“Hey Archie are you okay?” you asked.

“I can’t do this Y/n, when I was up there looking out I just froze”

“It’s called stage fright Archie, it’s common. But you’ll get over it”

“I don’t get it, I never feel like that during football and the stands are packed.” 

“Singing makes you vulnerable in a way that football doesn’t,”

“Maybe what I was missing up there was my team. Or at least a partner. What if we sang together? Just this once, to help me get my sea legs.”

“I don’t know Archie,”

“Please Y/n. You already know the song and you have such a good voice. It would mean so much to me” he pleaded.

“Okay” you say reluctantly.

“Really? Y/n this is amazing” he said as he picked you up and spun you.

“I’ll go talk to Kevin, we can start practicing tomorrow” you smile.

It took some convincing to get Kevin to allow the two of you into the show. After all, it went against his theatrical morals.You had to remind him how Archie stood up for him when he came out and the fact that he owed you for covering for him with his dad. Reluctantly, he agreed to give you a spot. All that was left now was to practice. 

You and Archie decided to sing “I got you” since it was already a duet. You added in a piano intro to the song and worked together to figure out where you would harmonize and where it was better to break into solos. The two of you spent all of your free time in the music room, and it was paying off.

------   

It was the morning of the performance and Archie was getting nervous again. What if he froze? Half of the town was going to be there. What if they hated it?

His thoughts were interrupted when his Dad came in the room. “I got everyone at the site tickets for tonight, we’re all proud of you and Y/n” he declared.

He then noticed how anxious his son looked. “You okay Arch?” he asked sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Dad what if I tank it tonight? Would you be…?” he couldn’t finish.

“Would I be what Archie? Mad? Son, whatever happens at this show, or any show, whether you rock it or bomb it, I will still love you. I will still support you. I’m proud that you have the courage to go after something that you care about”

“Thanks Dad” 

The day went by so fast. Before he knew it, it was time to get ready for the show. As he was going into the dressing room he was completely freaking out. He didn’t think that he could go through with it. Maybe music was a mistake. But then he saw you. 

You were wearing the outfit that Veronica had bought you. She had come early to do your hair and make-up. You smiled as you saw him, “Hey Archie, you ready for this?”

“I am now,” he answered. 

Betty and Jughead were not at the Variety show. Instead, they were seeing if they could verify Polly’s story. They were trying to find the car that Jason supposedly had stashed away. They were skeptical, but they had to look for it, they owed it to Polly to at least try.

 When they arrived to the scene, they found the car. It was exactly where Polly said it would be. Inside was both her and Jason’s belongings, along with drugs. Jughead took pictures of everything and was going to look through it when Betty realized what it was. The car was a crime scene and everything in it was evidence. 

They called Sheriff Keller and headed to the variety show to meet up with him. When they brought him back to the car it was in flames. They then left to go check on Polly, having a bad feeling. Sure enough, she was gone.  

Meanwhile, you and Archie were up next to perform.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Archie said peeking from behind the curtain.

“Of course you can Archie. Just like we practiced”

“I’m serious, there are so many people here. What if-”

“Hey, look at me,” you interrupt taking his hand in yours, “I’m going to be right up there with you. If you get nervous just focus on my voice. We’ve got this, it’ll be just like we practiced”

“Okay, your right” he confirmed as the Pussycats finished.

“Next up we have Archie and Y/n singing a song they wrote” Kevin announced.

“That’s our cue” you say giving his hand one final squeeze and walking on stage.

“Stick to football” someone in the audience (probably Reggie) yelled.

“Let’s show them what you’re made of Andrews,” you say away from the mic.

You give him a reassuring smile before taking a breath and starting to play.  Singing up there with you was the easiest thing in the world. After the first verse all of his nerves faded. In the moment, the song felt like it lasted forever. It was like the two of you were the only people in the auditorium. When it was over the audience erupted in cheers and applause. Neither you nor Archie could stop smiling as you walked off the stage. 

“I can’t believe we just did that” he exclaimed.

“You were amazing up there Archie, I think it’s safe to say you conquered your stage fright” you praised.

“I’m so glad that you were up there with me. It was incredible, I feel like I can do anything” he said and without thinking he leaned down to kiss you. 

It was intense and unexpected, but you melted into it. The truth is that you had wanted to kiss Archie since you met him. When he finally pulled away you were slightly dazed. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” he panicked. 

“Archie-” you tried.

“Actually, you know what? I’m not sorry. I like you, I have since middle school. You have always been there for me, always. And I -” he started but you cut him off by kissing him again. 

“I like you too” you smiled. You were going to say more but the show was over and everyone was supposed to go to the atrium. The two of you made your way there where you were greeted and congratulated by everyone. Eventually, you found Archie’s dad who handed you flowers.

“The two of you were amazing up there, I’m so proud of you both” he marveled. 

“Thanks Dad” Archie replied.

“When you guys are done, I’m treating you both at Pop’s” he insists.

And so, after you talked with your friends you went to Pop’s for burgers and milkshakes. Mr. Andrews explained how he was surprised by how good the two of you were. He then revealed that he had received the bid for the Drive-In construction project, which was great news. He eventually left you and Archie, saying that he had a big day tomorrow. You thanked him again for dinner and watched as he walked out.

“Sooo” you say looking up at Archie with a smile, “what now?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Are we... ? I mean we kissed. Which was great. And we both like each other. Which is great. But does that mean we are dating? Or?” you rambled causing him to laugh.

“Y/f/n Y/l/n, would you like to be my girlfriend?” he asked still laughing.

“Well I don’t know Archie” you joke, “Of course.'' 

The two of you walked back to his house, hand in hand, talking about the show. You stopped outside and he turned to you again kissing you goodbye.

“Tonight has been one of the best nights of my life” you whispered as you pulled away.  

“Mine too” he answered kissing you again. 

When you did finally break apart, you wished him goodnight and started walking back to the school. You were radiating, you couldn’t wait to see him in the morning. But it was more than that. You couldn’t wait to see where this relationship went, you have liked him for so long. 

And so, the boy next door, Archie Andrews, your boyfriend, had managed to give you hope in a town where it was often hard to find.

[sundry-whovengerslocked]

WVL - Chapter One - Maple Sugar

((A/N: the dashes --- indicate a change in time or perspective. Also this first chapter is reaaaallly long, the story was split up how it seemed it should naturally))

BZZZ BZZZ BZZZ

Abby groaned, flipping over in the bed that she shared with her best friend, Sam. Well, they weren't exactly best friends, more like sisters. She reached over to grab her vibrating phone, and turned off the alarm. It was time for her to go to her first job, a part-time journalist for the Boston Globe. It wasn't that big of a status, but it paid well.

So Abby got up and put on her red-brown glasses, being careful not to wake Sam. Throwing her long brown hair up in a ponytail, she dressed into some dark jeans, a green long-sleeved shirt, and lastly a pair of over-sized black converse she had gotten from charity. They were men's size, but as long as she tied them up tight enough, they were fine. Plus, they were cute.

Abby then walked into the kitchen, grabbed some eggs from the fridge, and began to make an omelette for Sam and herself. She had practically forced vegetarianism upon her, because it was healthier and generally cheaper, so really the only protein they got were eggs, nuts, and beans.

A little while after cooking and eating, she left, putting on her expensive white petticoat she had left from her mother's belongings. She also grabbed her father's old camera, her purse, her press badge, and her notebook on her way out.

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

Sam awoke to the smell of cooked eggs, and pulled her tired body out of bed. She slid her feet into her fuzzy tan slippers, and rubbed her arms to keep warm. It was chilly this morning, with Autumn creeping in. Upon the table in their tiny kitchen, was an omelet, still warm, resting on a small white plate. Sam licked her lips, knowing Abby had made it for her before she left. How sweet.

Getting a fork out of the drawer under the microwave, Sam also poured herself a glass of orange juice. She sat down at her normal spot, facing the window that overlooked the city. As she dined on the meatless breakfast that her best friend made, she thought over what she needed to do today. Shopping was the main priority. They needed more fruit.

As much as Sam did love all the healthy alternatives she'd converted to, she did occasionally miss having meat. Not enough to turn back though, veggie burgers were good too.

Finished with her food, Sam dabbed her face with a napkin, and stood to rinse her dish.

Next step was changing her clothes: a large red sweater with black leggings. Her hair cut off at the shoulders, just barely brushing the shirt. She'd straightened it the night before, and brushed through it this morning. Lastly, she drew a thin layer of eye liner in her top lid, and some mascara on her lashes. It seemed as though her little freckled face lit up when she looked at herself in the mirror, ready for the day.

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

Abby on the other hand, she wasn't wearing any makeup.

She was walking towards her office building, taking some shortcuts along alleyways she knew, since they didn't have a car. It also wasn't that much use to get a cab, too much money and not that far away. So walking to work was a great way to get exercise.

Only a few things were on Abby's mind as she hiked along, mainly wondering about the universe. Ever since the events in New York a few years ago, there was no denying aliens existed, no matter how hard the government tried to cover it up. The same went for what had been happening in London the last decade. Her whole life Abby believed in other worlds, even just for the sake of believing. But for now, everything was quiet. Most decided to just forget about it, just be wary, but Abby didn't want to do that.

So she was thinking about other life, about the impossible universe, when she suddenly smacked face-first into something. Letting out a groan, she took a step back and rubbed her nose. "Why do I always do that?" she muttered to herself.

She always had her head in the clouds, and was usually clumsy. But not this clumsy. She had run into a big blue box, about the size of a telephone booth you see in England, but without the glass; it was solid and wooden. How Abby missed it, she didn't know.

But she became curious, and began to inspect it. At the top, it said POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX in big letters. She saw two windows at the top and wooden panels running down it.

But before Abby could walk around the box and look at it further, she suddenly heard a very faint noise behind her; a pebble skittering across the ground. She froze, and thought back. Abby had thought she had felt a presence behind her while she was walking, but wasn't paying attention because of her daydreaming. It was then she realized: someone had been following her.

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

Sam took a left turn on the road down to the local market, hearing a plane soar overhead from the Logan Airport a few miles away. She'd always been so fascinated with planes and runways, ever since she was young.

Suddenly, a crash in the building beside her pulled her from the gaze she had placed on that plane. SMASH! SMASH! Whatever was in there, it was making a lot of noise.

Sam's instincts kicked in, and she immediately found herself taking step after step into this large brick building.

The banging continued as she entered, making it relatively easy to find the source of it.

The scream of a man sounded down the hall, causing Sam to jerk her head towards it.

She followed the crashing that slowly turned into rough taps, making her way into a rectangular office-like room. No, not an office, some sort of science lab.

Sam stepped over the broken pieces of glass, making no noise at all. She saw a blue liquid spilled onto the floor, and came over to examine it. The sizzle made her think she probably shouldn't touch it.

But then, there it was: the sound of someone breathing heavily. She turned to see a body. A man's body dressed in a torn white lab coat, blood on his hands and arms. Thank God, he wasn't dead. Sam wouldn't have known what to do. Even now, she was a little unsure.

Crazy thing was, she could have sworn she had seen this man before. Maybe he was one of Abby's old friends? His brown hair and tanned skin just looked so familiar.

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

Abby was panicking. She had no idea what this person was going to do to her. What they wanted with her.

That was, until she saw his face.

He wore a hat, a dark hoodie, ripped jeans, and old sneakers breaking at the seams. He didn't wear a mask or anything, no, just a scowl. He was just a common thief.

Abby looked into his eyes, and saw his story. She knew that sadness: he had to be an orphan. Grubby and dirty: homeless. Skinny: had to steal for food.

Poor guy, she thought, immediately feeling his emotions. He looked angry and intimidating, but in reality he was so, so frightened.

A pistol was in his hand, but it was shaking.

Once Abby had turned around and saw him, he had pointed the gun at her. At first she put up her hands, but once she took him in she put them down.

He sneered at this; "Don't move! Give me your valuables!" He'd done this quite a few times before, she could tell, but he didn't like it one bit.

Then, Abby suddenly reached for her camera. Alarmed, the man cocked his gun, and shouted; "I said DON'T MOVE!" However, Abby just ignored him and snapped a picture of the thief.

"Now," she said, "this can go one of two ways. One; you can take all of my stuff, and I won't put up a fight. Well, everything other than my necklace." She put her hand to her chest for a minute, wrapping her fingers around her intricate key pendant, then continued talking. "It means a lot to me, and I doubt it's worth much. But you seem like the kind of person to respect sentiment, so we probably won't have to worry about that. Anyways, like I was saying, you can take my things without a fight, but I'll have to turn that picture I just took of you in to the police."

The man gave her a quizzical look.

"Oh, and it's uploaded to the Cloud, so..." she smirked, pointing up at the sky.

She took a deep breath next, tugging on her white coat as she looked at him. "Or, we can settle this a different way."

The man simply stared.

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

It seemed as though Sam had waited hours for this man to wake up, but when he finally did, it wasn't what she expected. He didn't see her at first, he just opened his eyes and took a few calming breaths. Sam took a step closer. "Are you alright?" she asked.

The man jumped to his feet rather impressively, all the colour leaving his face. "Stay away." He mumbled. "Stay away from me. I don't want to hurt you." This sounded like more of a request than a warning. She stepped closer. "Please." He cried out, backing away.

Sam continued inching closer until she could touch him. Her hands placed themselves on top of his shoulders and a comforting look appeared on her face. "I'm not going anywhere." She assured him, having to tilt her head back a bit to look up at him. "Are you alright?" she repeated her previous question.

He looked down at the broken glass on the floor, biting his lip. "How long have you been here?" Now he was asking the questions.

Sam thought for a second, shrugging. It had felt like she was waiting forever. "Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes?" She guessed.

"What's your name?" The man asked just before Sam did.

"Sam Watson." She beamed, removing her hands from his shoulders and sticking out one for him to shake.

He managed a smile, then said; "I'm Bruce Banner."

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

Meanwhile Abby had befriended the robber. "Who are you?" He had asked. "Holmes," she answered. "Abbygale Alexis Holmes."

At this he furrowed his eyebrows, he didn't have any electronics but still managed to get to the library computer once in a while, and could swear he had heard this name somewhere before.

"Thomas Brekenridge," he responded. Abby smiled at this, she didn't expect him to tell her his name, but she did have a very trusting face, after all.

It was then that Abby remembered the gun. "Could you maybe put the gun down?" She asked. "They make me very uncomfortable," she swallowed, pushing down a flashback.

Thomas nodded, unloading the gun and throwing it down on the ground.

That was when he looked up and finally noticed the police box. "What's that?" he asked. Remembering what she was doing before he showed up, she let her camera hang around her neck once again and turned back to the wooden structure. "I don't know," she said.

That was when the man stepped out from behind the box.

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

Sam tightened her jacket around herself. She had started helping Bruce clean up the mess all around the lab. White rubber gloves covered her hands to protect her from touching potentially dangerous chemicals.

Bruce had gone to get himself some bandages and some clean clothes, and hadn't been back for a while. Sam shot her head up when she heard someone calling for him. This obviously female voice was hollering his name not too far down the hallway.

Sam pulled off the gloves and desperately tried to hide, squeezing herself into a storage closet in the back of the room. Inside it, she nearly screamed at the plastic skeleton that fell on top of her. CRASH! It fell to the ground, along with a mop and a box of trash bags.

"Shit." Sam muttered to herself quietly, trying to pick it up.

"Bruce?" The voice was now very close. Whoever it was, they were in the room. "Where are you, big guy?"

From what Sam could see through the gap of the door, this woman was tall and slim, with short red hair. Very red hair ...and Sam thought her own hair was red. The woman wore an all black bodysuit, black combat boots and a black leather jacket. The lack of colour brought out her white skin and plump, pink lips.

"I'm here!" Bruce's voice sounded from down the hall, relieving Sam immensely.

"Natasha, hey." He tried sounding casual, but looked around the room at the same time, searching for his new acquaintance.

"What happened?" This so called Natasha asked.

"What? Um, nothing." He bent down to look under the lab table, then seemed to have spotted something. Sam's bracelet. It must have fallen off when she was removing the gloves. She grabbed at her wrist, disappointed to find it bare.

Natasha walked over to him as he picked up the green and blue twist design bracelet off the floor. "So you didn't have another attack?" she asked.

Attack? Sam was confused, watching the two of them intently through the gap. Bruce got up, wiping off his pants. "Oh, um. Yeah, I did. But it was nothing," he assured her, still occasionally peeking in certain places.

"It's never nothing, Bruce. Why didn't you call someone?" Natasha was obviously concerned.

"Because somebody already came." He picked up Sam's gloves.

"Where are they now?"

Bruce straightened out the gloves in his hands. "That's what I'd like to know."

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

The Doctor was very confused.

He had been in the TARDIS, parked, but before he and Clara could leave, a girl bumped into it. He was about to go out, check that the TARDIS was okay, when he heard shouting. He turned on the monitor to see a man with a gun pointing at the girl, and seemed to be threatening her. "Doctor what's happening?" Clara asked, coming beside the Time Lord to look at the monitor with him. She could tell he wasn't just concerned about the time machine anymore.

The girl held up her camera now, taking a very clear picture of the man in front of her. The Doctor's eyes widened as he saw her talking calmly. He continued to watch, and suddenly she was pointing at the clouds.

For a moment the Doctor just watched this spectacle, but as soon as the man dropped the gun he bolted out the door, Clara following him. "Hey! What's going on?" He stepped out of his time machine, sonic screwdriver in hand, as Clara popped her head out beside him.

Abby didn't know what to think of a man dressed in a velvet jacket with owl-like eyebrows coming out of a large blue police box.

"Are you alright?" the Doctor asked her, beaming a green light on her head with his sonic.

Abby backed away from him, curious as to why a grown man was probing her hair. "Just fine, thanks." She wiped her hands on her jeans. "Who are you?"

He tugged at the opening of his jacket, and Clara smirked at his classic gesture. "I'm the Doctor."

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

Sam couldn't fathom the amount of dust she was inhaling in that closet. It mustn't have been opened in ages. She felt a tickle in her throat and bit down hard on her lip, trying to hold back a cough. It wasn't working.

Bruce was still talking with Natasha, clutching the bracelet in his hand. Sam prayed that they both would leave, for the sake of her respiratory system, but mostly because she didn't want to look like an idiot, falling out of the closet. Now it really wasn't working.

She clutched the shelf behind her, trying to silently clear her throat. No luck. She hacked out a cough, then quickly slapped a hand over her mouth.

Bruce's gaze fell upon the closet, and Natasha had a confused expression. "What was that?" she wondered cautiously, stepping toward the door Sam hid behind. She whipped it open, revealing a blushing red young girl, hand over her mouth, and a skeleton leaning on her. "Bruce," Natasha was clearly worried as she said this. "What have you done?"

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

Abby could tell this "Doctor" was confused as she began untying her shoes. "Doctor who?" she asked.

"Doctor Disco!" he grinned to himself, receiving a weak jab in the ribs, courtesy of his companion. "And this is Clara," he added, baffled with what Abby was doing. "Who are you?" he asked.

At this point the black converse were off, and Abby was handing them to her new friend. Thomas looked at her in confusion. "Try them on," Abby said. "They should fit." At this, his expression became grateful, and he put the sneakers on. They were a bit snug, but still fit nicely enough.

"Abbygale Holmes," she said to the Doctor. "You can call me Abby. This is my friend, Thomas. We're pleased to meet you, Doctor. Right Thomas?" She turned her head to the man, and he nodded slowly, paying more attention to the feeling of new shoes again.

"Friend!?" the Doctor exclaimed, alarmed at this. "He just held you at gunpoint!" He raised his voice a bit; he was obviously in distress.

Abby simply said; "Yes, he did, and I forgive him. Although I've no idea how you knew that."

The Doctor stared at her, his bushy eyebrows furrowed together, and even Clara looked upset. Abby then shimmied around the two, walking around the box and stopping at the front. Frowning a bit in thought, her face suddenly dropped and she looked at the time on her phone. "Um, well, nice to meet you folks and all, but I'm late for work!" And just like that, Abby wearing only socks on her feet, ran off.

The Doctor and Clara looked at each other in complete and utter confusion, then raced after Abby, leaving Thomas to admire his new shoes.

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

Bruce's face turned white as he stared at Sam, who still by the way, was in the closet. Natasha was helping her out of it, rubbing her back as if comforting her. This confused Sam, she hadn't been hurt, but Natasha was acting as if she had. As if Bruce had hurt her. "I'm fine, I'm fine." Sam protested.

"You aren't hurt anywhere?" Natasha wondered, looking up and down Sam's form.

"No." She glanced at Bruce, then down at her bracelet in his hand. "Nobody hurt me. I saw someone who needed help, and I helped. Simple as that."

Sam moved past Natasha and over to Bruce, who then handed her what she wanted. She looked at him for a second and fixed the fabric over his shoulders, smiling kindly up at him. "Until we meet again, Mr. Banner." She said awkwardly, turning around.

"Yes. Sure." Bruce stumbled over his words, shocked that she was taking everything so well.

Sam looked at Natasha quickly before exiting the room, waving at her as she stepped into the hallway.

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

Abby was running, running so fast. She had always been quick, but had terrible endurance. It was thanks to this that the Doctor and Clara were able to catch up to her, but by then she was already inside the Boston Globe office building.

As Abby reached the security guards, she flashed them a smile, oblivious of the two time travelers behind her. "Wait!" one of the guards said to them.

"Oh, come on!" The Doctor whined, flipping his physic paper to them. The guard nodded with a bewildered look on his face, and at this the Doctor charged in. "Americans," he muttered under his breath, Clara chuckling at this.

However, once they got inside, the mysterious girl was out of sight.

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

It didn't take long for Bruce to realize that he didn't want Sam to go. He was curious about her, why she hadn't been scared of him. His curiosity lead him to run after her. She was in the midst of throwing her hair back into a tiny ponytail when Bruce finally saw her again. They both stood awkwardly in the veggie section of the nearby market: the only market within walking distance from Sam's apartment.

"Hello again." Sam spoke in a low register for a reason she wasn't quite sure of.

"Yes, I followed you." Bruce said suddenly.

"I noticed." She nonchalantly placed a head of lettuce into her shopping basket. They both stayed quiet for an uncomfortably long time as Sam made her way down the rows of vegetables. Bruce stayed at a safe distance, but still moved along with her, not saying a word. "So, um ...are we just gonna stand in awkward silence, or are you gonna tell me why you're following me?" Sam piped up a moment later.

"Because I'm curious." Bruce stepped in front of her.

She moved aside and continued walking. "Curious about what, exactly?"

"You."

Sam jerked her head and looked at him, wondering why someone would be interested in her. Why someone would follow her around just to say they were curious.

"You're not scared of me." Bruce urged a bit.

"I have no reason to be." She furrowed her eyebrows as she said this. "You're not scary. You're ..." She paused. "Cute."

Bruce's cheeks turned pink and he tried to hide the fact that he was blushing.

"But look, I've gotta be going." Sam placed a pack of yoghurt into the basket; the last thing she needed to buy, then nudged Bruce on the arm, beginning to walk away.

"Where can I find you?" Bruce wondered, his cheeks still rather colourful.

"Just about anywhere." Sam winked, and then she was off.

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

Abby trotted into the office after getting some shoes from the lost and found, sliding into her chair and turning her computer on. "You're running late," a voice said.

It was Josie, Abby's editor. Abby and Josie had a bit of a love-hate relationship, so she wasn't surprised when her boss came up to her desk with a smirk on her face.

"Yeah, I got held up." She actually meant "held up" as in with a gun, but Josie obviously didn't understand that.

"With what? Oh, never mind. You got a good crack today, there was a break-in at the Aberforth bank today, but nothing was taken and everyone that had been there are unconscious at the hospital."

Abby had chuckled slightly at the irony of the not-robbery, but then her eyes widened in surprise at the details of the witnesses. Josie glanced towards her office, then back at Abby.

"You should get going, see if you can interview some people that were nearby. This could be a good break for you, the only reason you got it is 'cause everyone else is busy." Abby grinned at this, then dashed out the door.

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

"Who was that girl?" Clara asked.

"Abbygale Holmes, apparently," the Doctor answered.

They had left the building once she disappeared, and now were walking around aimlessly.

"You know what? Let's split up," Clara finally offered.

"What? No!" The Doctor said. He was worried about her; they were in a strange city and who knows what kind of people lived there.

"Why not? We can take more distance that way and find whatever it is we're looking for. The TARDIS obviously brought us here for a reason."

The Doctor scowled a bit as he thought it over. Maybe she was right, it would make this aimless searching faster. "Fine," he harrumphed, crossing his arms. Clara smiled, and the Doctor then pointed his finger at her. "But be careful," he warned. "The only reason I'm saying yes is because I don't see any immediate danger other than that gunman back there." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction they had come.

Clara started to walk away, but he wasn't done lecturing her. "Make sure to keep track of where you're going, so you don't get lost. And keep your phone on you! We'll meet back at the TARDIS in an hour," he added.

Then he started to cross the street grumbling; "At least you aren't wandering off without my permission."

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

Sam was making her way back to the apartment rather quickly, step after step, she seemed to pick up speed. She was making a left around the block, right next to the building she had first met Bruce in when she slammed into someone accidentally.

She stumbled back, but a hand grabbed her arm, balancing her before she could fall. "Sorry, sorry." Sam said instinctively, looking into the eyes of the girl standing in front of her. They were chocolate coloured, matching her hair, a leather jacket covered her shoulders and a red and black dress cut off at her knees.

"That's alright, love." The girl's British accent intrigued Sam, making her want this person to say more.

"I uh... Um. It's. Thanks." She stumbled over her own words, suddenly hot in the face and losing grip on the shopping bags she held. Why was she acting like this?

"Are you alright?" The girl wondered, moving her head forward slightly so she could get a better look at Sam.

"Mmm." Sam's mouth muttered a sound that indicated she was fine. Of course, that's not what she wanted to say.

"I'm Clara Oswald." The girl said sweetly with a touch of boldness as well.

"S-S.." Sam cleared her throat, determined to pronounce her own name correctly. "Sam Watson."

Clara smiled, showing her gorgeous white teeth. Sam adored this for a reason she couldn't quite understand. In fact, she adored just about every single inch of Clara Oswald. Why was this? She didn't know.

"I'm uh. I should probably uh..." Sam pointed past Clara, trying hard to muster up another group of words.

"Get going?" She guessed, trying to help Sam along.

"Yeah, that."

Clara furrowed her eyebrows. Her perfectly neat eyebrows. "Why? I thought we was just getting acquainted."

That British voice sparked fire in Sam's heart and her entire body went hot, rather than just her face. "Well I mean I just need to..." She trailed off as their eyes met and Clara knew she'd been having some sort of effect on Sam. "put this stuff away." She finished her own sentence with relief, breaking the gaze that she and Clara shared.

"I'll tag along!" Clara insisted. "Lead the way, Miss Watson."

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

As Abby made her way to the crime scene, she heard something soaring overhead, but she couldn't quite make out what it was. Couldn't have been a plane or a helicopter, no, this sounded different. She just couldn't put her finger on it.

That was when people in the crowd behind the police barrier started to gasp in excitement, pointing up into the sky. Abby looked up to see a flash of gold and red come crashing down to the ground, but then slow down and hover the rest of the way.

It was a suit, a suit made of metal. It was Iron Man.

To be honest, although she was acting unimpressed, Abby was secretly fangirling on the inside. Tony Stark was a brilliant man with a brilliant mind, and on top of that, he was a hero. She couldn't believe that he was standing right here in front of her, in his suit.

The crowd was gasping and cheering, as well as jumping and clapping.

Abby stepped forward towards the barrier, and started to reach for her camera to to snap a few pictures, when she remembered why she was there. The bank situation, all of the people in the hospital.

At this point Tony had already waved to the crowd, and was past the barrier talking to the police. Abby raised an eyebrow at this, and listened in.

"...so can I have a look?" Tony finished whatever he was saying. Abby's jaw dropped in surprise. Surely they weren't going to just let him in?

"Uh-um sure. I'll need an autograph though, my daughter loves you," the police officer responded, much to Abby's chagrin. The two men chuckled, and Abby sneered.

"Hold up, you can't just let him in like that!" Abby spoke up. "He has no authority, he doesn't even have a badge or anything!"

Tony and the cop turned to her, the Iron Man suit making a mechanical sound as it moved. Tony flipped up the mask to reveal his face and get a better look at Abby, the crowd very happy at this.

Ignoring the people around her and focusing on the hero, Abby was beginning to get quite peeved. She generally liked following rules, especially when she agreed with them, such as not letting the public into crime scenes.

"I like you, kid." Tony said. "Ya got moxie."

He looked at Abby's chest for a second, noticing her press badge and camera hanging around her neck.

"You've got a badge, why don't you come in with me. That okay Rob?" he asked the officer. Rob nodded with a smile, still starstruck.

This offer made the young reporter very conflicted.

On the one hand, she new rules were being broken, and she had always been disgusted with cheaters. On the other, this could get her really working on the case, nearly guaranteeing her a promotion. It took her a moment to decide, but Abby eventually -and reluctantly- swung her leg over the wooden barrier.

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

Clara entered Sam's apartment, gazing at the paintings that were hung artistically on the walls as Sam set the groceries down on the kitchen table.

"I'm just gonna pop into the bathroom really quick and then we can chat it up, okay?" Sam was happy to have finally gotten a full coherent sentence out of her mouth though it wasn't really that clever.

"Okay, no rush." Clara smiled and leaned against the counter, her finger tapping her chin.

Sam shut the bathroom door behind her and locked it, looking at herself in the mirror. She immediately began critiquing herself, pulling out her ponytail, moving her hair a few different ways, and making sure her makeup looked even. Then she washed her hands after popping a breath mint into her mouth. "Looking good, Sam." She muttered to herself. "Let's make a good first impression."

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

All the while, Clara was standing in the kitchen, intrigued with the amount of photos hung on the fridge with magnets. She laughed at the one of Sam with ice cream on her nose while she sat with her arm around someone strangely familiar. Clara leaned forward to get a closer look, staring intently at the girl beside Sam.

"Abbygale Holmes," she whispered, taking the picture off the fridge delicately. Her free hand found its way to her back pocket where she then grabbed her cellphone. Unlocking the screen, she dialed the number that she knew would ring the TARDIS phone.

"Clara! Where are you?" The Doctor wondered on the other end.

"I'm downtown, in an apartment." Clara said quietly.

"Why are you whispering?" He mimicked her soft tone. "Are you in danger?"

"No, I've just ...I think I've found where Abbygale Holmes lives." She glanced back at the picture, then quickly stuck it back onto the fridge as she heard Sam open the bathroom door. "Yeah! Sure, mum! I love you too, bye!" Clara hung up and smiled again, resting her chin on her knuckles she leaned on the counter once again.

"What was that all about?" Sam asked, opening the fridge for a refreshment.

"Oh, just my mum." Clara bit her lip, hoping Sam didn't find her suspicious.

She pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge and offered it to Clara, who shook her head politely, but took a seat at the kitchen table. Sam sat across from her, still oddly attracted to her appearance.

Clara cleared her throat and put her elbows on the table. "So, do you live here with anyone else?"

Sam picked at her fingernails, a nasty habit of hers. "Yeah, Abby. My best friend." She looked up at Clara. "Why?"

"Just curious." She answered, sitting back in her chair. "What's it like?"

Sam furrowed her eyebrows. "What's what like?"

"Living with your best friend."

She chuckled a bit at this, folding her hands for no particular reason, then she grinned. "I haven't been happier."

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

Abby was having mixed emotions. Sure, she was honored to be in the presence of such a genius, but she had had no idea that the great Tony Stark was so arrogant!

"So, Boston Globe?" Tony asked, breaking Abby out of her thoughts. She glanced down at her badge and nodded. "Big time reporter, so my question is, why haven't you started taking pictures of me yet?"

So he was self-centered too. "Because I didn't come here for you," she answered with a snort. "I came for all the people in the hospital. Now, the real question is, what is a superhero like you doing in Boston?"

They entered the bank now, and began to look around.

"Well, there was nothing to do and I heard this was suspected alien. The sedative found in the victims is unrecognizable so far," Tony said.

Abby raised an eyebrow, both curious and excited. She snapped a few pictures, and then walked around a bit, noticing a thin, dust-like film covering most of the surfaces in the room. She ran her right pointer and middle fingers along a table, then inspected them. "Could it be this stuff?" she asked, sniffing her fingers. It smelled suspiciously like... maple sugar? She licked it to test, and her tongue immediately went numb. "Uh, yeah, itsth thisth sthuff," she giggled, her speech impedimented.

Tony turned and laughed. "Did you seriously just taste it?" He went over to Abby.

"Ylup," she snickered. Her smile grew even more as she realized something. "My fingerthips are going tingly!"

Tony, growing a bit concerned, wiped the sweet-smelling dust off her fingers. Abby had a grateful look on her face as the feeling started to diminish, well from her fingers anyhow. Her tongue was still numb, and now that she had touched the roof of her mouth with it that was also beginning to lose feeling.

"Here," Tony said. He had grabbed a water bottle and handed it to her. "Rinse, don't swallow." Abby did as told but then didn't know where to spit, so she walked away to look for a bathroom.

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

The Doctor wandered aimlessly through the city, searching for his companion. He'd left her five voicemails after she hung up on him, to none of which she replied. He tried keeping calm, reassuring himself that Clara was fine. There was a bit of commotion coming from a block over, where a horde of people stood in front of the Aberforth bank. He made his way over with curiosity, tugging the dark jacket around him tighter.

"Out of the way, gotta get through," he said, squeezing through the crowd, but he froze when he saw what was inside. His eyes widened as he stared at the metal red and gold suit in front of him. "Cyberman. Since when have they been using colour? And hot rod red? Bloody hell." He muttered to himself, looking at the backside of Tony Stark through the bank window. When Tony turned, however, the Doctor's heart beats slowed to a normal pace again as he realized there was no imposing threat.

"Hey, I need to get in." The Doctor said to a guard that held him up at the entrance.

"You are not permitted to enter." The man kept a firm hand on the Doctor's shoulder.

He cleared his throat and pulled his psychic paper from the inner pocket of his jacket. "I think you'll find here, that I absolutely am."

The man took a step back with a shocked expression. "Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry sir. Please! Go in!"

The Doctor chuckled softly and mumbled, "I love it when they do that." He stepped inside, and walked up the the man in metal.

"Sir, where did you get that?" The man's face seemed normal, he was certainly human, or at least not a cyberman.

The first thing Tony noticed about him was his strange coat. "Why are you wearing that?" he guffawed.

The Doctor looked very insulted. "What? I was trying to go for minimalist," he said grumpily, slightly upset as he straightened it around his torso. "But nevermind that, where the hell did you get that armour?" He pointed at Tony when he referred to the Iron Man suit.

Tony was quite shocked. "What do you mean where did I get this? I made this!"

The Doctor was about to respond when someone bumped into him. The officer distracted him, and for some reason his gaze was drawn to the floor.

Everywhere people had walked, you could see very faint footprints left behind. They were walking in a thin layer of some sort of dust.

The Doctor noticed that this thick powdery substance was covering nearly everything in the room. Well, everything that had been here before the cops got in. Curious that this might be something he should find out more about, the Doctor reached out his hand to a countertop.

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

Abby stepped out of the bathroom, the water bottle in hand. Rinsing didn't help much. She used her wrist to wipe some wet off the corner of her lips, when she realized she was drooling a bit. Scrunching her face up in disgust, Abby turned the corner to see a familiar face, the strange man with the magician's jacket.

"What is he doing here?" she asked herself.

Just then the Doctor did what Abby did earlier, he dragged his fingers through the stuff and smelled it, then held it up to his mouth. Tony noticed what he was going to do just in time.

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

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, old man," he warned him.

"Why not?" the Doctor asked him. He seemed a bit annoyed with the man, yet also concerned.

"'Cause that reporter girl just did it and her tongue went numb." Sure enough, the Doctor's fingers had started to lose feeling. Furrowing his eyebrows, he wiped them off on his pants, just in time it seemed.

"I don't know why she did that though, peculiar young woman. She seems to love the rules too." At this point Tony had taken a sample of the dust. "Anything yet Jarvis?"

"Not yet sir," a voice replied. The Doctor had no idea where it came from and wished to investigate this man further, but for now he had a strange feeling that he should consider this girl he mentioned.

"Where is she now?" the Doctor asked.

"Well, she went to the ladies' room to rinse out her mouth... should've been back by now."

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

Abby had become overwhelmed, partly from the growing crowd of law enforcement. She didn't like being in crowds, as it made her claustrophobic. It was strange though, as when she was in a group of friends or alone in a small space she was fine. It was too many strangers that made her nervous. She had taken to calling it "coagulation anxiety."

That and seeing the Doctor again. She feared that he was following her for some reason, as it wouldn't have been the first time she knew someone with a stalker-ish vibe.

Even though this was what she was thinking logically, something else was telling her that it just wasn't time to see him yet. She needed someone else to help with the report anyhow, this wasn't exactly a one-woman job.

But for now, she headed back to the apartment, deciding to take a different alley than this morning.

((A/N: So that was the first chapter of many! You can find the WIP Master list here, with a link as well to the story on Wattpad. And don’t worry, John and Sherlock are going to show up in a few chapters. I hope you enjoyed!))

[evangelineartemiasamos]

Red Queen Fan Fiction - Remember That You’re Mine

More Fade smut, as requested ;-) Inspired by @gisabarrow http://gisabarrow.tumblr.com/post/160954097797/i-feel-like-shade-would-be-the-type-of-boyfriend

Warning 1: Smut

Warning 2: Imagine Shade is still alive AU. Don’t be shocked when you realize this will never be canon.

Time: December 320 (fyi: Shade teleported 50 cm to the left during the prison break and Mare was never captured.)

Find this on wattpad

Enjoy!~

It was a glorious feeling to wake up without feeling sick for the first time in weeks. Stranger it was to see the simple white walls of the Tuck barrack. It took Farley longer than she would've assumed to get used to it again after the two months she'd lived with Shade, Mare, Kilorn, Cal and their Newblood recruits at the Notch. Its caves were, compared to austere Tuck, dimly lit, rarely tidy and as crooked as the mountains around them. But it had been cozy there, a kind of home. For her, Shade was the reason for this, he and the love and the passion they'd found with each other. She tried to remember all of those trysts, most of all the earliest ones before the Notch - those which led to their current situation.

This morning, Shade had not slept beside her. He'd returned from a task late yesterday, hugged her and dashed off again. She had been too tired to wonder about it.

The explanation for his absence was written on his back, for everyone to see as he arrived to the debriefing Farley was holding with Ada, Kilorn and Mare. They had been on the same mission as him. Before the good mornings were out, before she could berate him for coming late, Shade walked up to her, took her pen and started to write on the whiteboard behind her.

No one looked at what he was writing on the board. All eyes were focused on what was written on the back of his T-shirt.

This ass belongs to Diana Farley.

Apparently, he had done this himself, painted the white shirt with red and black slashes, slanted but legible.

A white noise ringed in Farley's ears, muting the sounds around her, and the only thought she could make was, well, it's a very nice ass. And nice shoulders, and a pretty back in general, and - stop it!

She didn't want to know how much she was blushing. She glared at the others giggling at the sight, Ada sipping form her cup, Mare amused but even more surprised than Farley, and Kilorn looking like he won some bet. He was probably in on the joke.

Well, she would shut them up soon enough. At first, she'd ignore the stupid thing. She turned to Shade again. "Barrow, what is it you're writing?" she barked. "Can you explain ... ," she stopped as Shade winked at her while writing, “The confession of Shade Barrow - Captain Farley and I ...,”  on the board. "I hope you like it," he whispered. "Just for you."

"How about you take it off right now?!" she hissed in reply.

He pulled back for the board and laid a hand on his chest. "This early in the morning, Captain? But why not," he inclined his head, "as you wish." And then he made a show of removing the shirt, slowly, while she stood frozen in front of him and Mare started to gasp and Ada seemed to choke on her tea.

Kilorn was about to speak up when Farley exclaimed, "Enough!" She grabbed Shade's wrist, took hold of the shirt in his other hand and began to drag him along.

"Dee, what is it...?" He never used the nickname in public, he was truly flabbergasted

"You come with me now," she answered, "and tell me exactly what you've done yesterday as you seem have made many experiences."

Chairs moved when they reached the door. "Didn't we have a plan for today, Farley? To do something?" Ada asked.

"Oh yes, we all have" she said." You know the schedule the best, Wallace, until later."

She pulled him outside of the building before she let go of his hand. She knotted his shirt in a belthole as Shade crossed his arms over his chest. "Dee, what? It's bleeding cold out here."

She stemmed her hands on her hips. "Too late! You should've thought about the weather before you did a striptease."

He made a noise between chuckling and shivering. "The captain is chastising me," said he. "So cruel," he added and came closer, "and mean," he finished as his hands found her waist. She hugged him back without further prompting.

"I'm not cruel," Farley insisted. "If you want warmth, you only have to come closer to me.”

Her lips nuzzled his chinline. She felt his breath against her throat as she embraced him even tighter, her hands travelling over his bare back. She sensed the warmth beneath his skin, cold from the winter air and coated with goosebumps. She had the impression the cold wasn't the only cause of them, not with the way he buried his face between her neck and her shoulder, while kissing her collarbones. They took a few steps backwards until Farley fell against a wall. Pressed between Shade and the stones, her desire only grew. She longed to wrap her legs around his slender hips, despite knowing there wasn't enough leverage for that. Instead she proved what Shade's shirt had proclaimed: Her hands slided into his pants and she grabbed his butt until he groaned.

"Bed?" she asked, her voice panting.

"Bed," he agreed, sounding as aroused as she.

She heaved herself from the wall and was about to pull him along. "Come," she said, but he merely grinned with a gleam in his eyes.

"We don't have to walk, you know," he proposed and winked. "It's freezing out here."

She snorted and batted his chest. "Shade Barrow! You have no idea how wonderful it was to wake up today without feeling sick for once?" He gasped. "Since my current  ailments are your fault, I strongly advise you not to ruin my mood."

"It's not exactly -"

"Shh," she interrupted him and kissed him quiet, their hands intertwining.

"Seems like I've warmed you up, just as promised," she panted, sitting astride him on her bed. The waves of her climax still pulsed through her as she leaned down on Shade's chest, his heart beating beneath her palm as he came to a finish himself. The grin on his face was delightfully stupid and she had to assume she looked the same. She eased herself off him and pulled him into an embrace as if to taste the air he was breathing in.

His fingers played with the curls of her hair falling into her face. He was close to making her ticklish.

"Can't believe the trick with the silly T-shirt actually worked," she said after a while.

He shrugged. "You didn't make it too difficult for me either," he replied. "They're probably true, these rumours about horny pregnant women."

She batted him again, speechless and almost offended, were it not for the adorably mischievous smirk on his face. "How dare you!" she hissed finally.

He giggled and continued to play with her hair. "Am I wrong? Oh, it must be true, given how much you blush right now."

She grabbed the blanket and pulled it over her face. "Oh stop it," she gave in, her voice muffled by the fabric covering her. "Okay, I confess, I can't keep my hands off you, are you satisfied now?"

She heard another giggle. "I thought I already was, but I'm not so sure anymore. Hey," he said with amusement, his hand shoving the blanket away from her head. The warm and smiling face of Shade Barrow was just inches above her and in that moment, she forgot about everything else.

He crawled under the blanket with her and she let him roam his hands over her naked skin. Another emotion flashed over his features.

"Maybe we should tell the others by now?" he asked and insecurity lingered in his voice, as always when he talked about their unborn child. He was less skilled than her at hiding how scared they both were deep down. Yet his jesting tone returned in an instant. "I mean, you are already putting on weight."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Her voice was indignant. "Where should I -"

"Oh, I think you do know." He moved away and kissed her breasts. "Everywhere. And I love it."

She tsked. "You're just like every boy," she teased him but began to caress his hair and the base of his head. "And I have told people."

"Yeah, Command, because you had to. Meanwhile your- I mean the colonel, walks around frowning and glaring as intense as you, with a huge question mark in his face."

She cackled. "It's hilarious to see him like that. But I think most people guess it anyways."

Shade looked up, leaning on his elbows positioned left and right to her waist. "Yes, some do. And then they ask me about it."

"You?" Her surprise wasn't an act. "What do you reply?"

He shrugged. " 'The captain has her own priorities.' "

"Good answer." She laughed.

He didnt fall in with her amusement. "Seriously, Dee, we have to be open about ... " his index finger moved down, tapping from her breastbone to her navel, "..our ...," - tap - "..little..." - tap - he thought for a moment - "...cherry."

"Cherry?!"

He sighed. "Dee, I want to tell my parents. They can help us."

"Sure."

"Right -"

"But I'd like to see your sister clueless for a few more days," she added.

Shade rolled over and sat up. "It's not funny to see her ignorant about us, she has other things on her mind, and I," he lowered his gaze, "I've hardly paid attention to her."

Farley was well aware that Mare wasn't okay but that didn't mean she knew how to help her, not without giving away too much of herself. "Of course," she agreed quietly and drew her legs to her chest. She was selfish to keep Shade to herself and she was her own woman after all; she didn't need to cling to him, but - but.

It was way too late to imagine her life without him.

From the corner of her eyes, she noticed Shade's damn T-shirt on the floor in the heap of their clothes. She fell forward, stretched herself, and picked the T-shirt up. She grinned. It was time for distraction. "You know how this will become even more accurate?" she asked rhetorically before she pulled it over her head.

Shade chuckled. "It doesn't become you, it's way too sma-"

"Way too what, Shade?" She gave him her infamous glare.

"Too ... made for men, I wanted to say." He struggled with the words as she loomed above him, kneeling on the bed. "Not tailored for your pretty curves ... "

It seemed like he had the ability to blush even redder than her after all, Farley assessed as she rose from the mattress, standing in front of him on in nothing but the self-painted T-shirt that was truly too tight and too loose in all the wrong places. More too tight than too loose, though. She smirked and turned around, so Shade's scrawl of This ass belongs to Diana Farley pointed right to her own ass. She bend forward, as if to pick something up. Behind her, she heard Shade groan a curse. "Damn, Dee. You really don't intend for us to get out of this bed again today, do you?"

She rejoiced at the sound of her own ingenuous laugh. "Should we? I'm ready for a day off duty."

Title from Blue Jeans by Lana Del Rey:

Blue jeans, white shirt Walked into the room you know you made my eyes burn

Yeah, that one was just too long.

I wrote two of these enumerations (?), and I don’t how to write those correctly. I hope they’re transported well enough.

@queenmareena @lilyharvord @maudthebookeater @clarafarleybarrow @universegamer @didmavenkillyou--metoo @redqueenfandom @red-queen-em-for-a-dream @myeyesonthehorizon @queeniriscygnet @tiberiaschooseme @mikey-waysjawline