#you didn't hypnotise anyone this week

[pharawee]

"You know that I..."

—PIT BABE THE SERIES · Episode 5

[imaginedanvrs]

can't quit you

dom!power bottom!natasha x sub!service top!reader

warnings: toxic dynamic, degrading, oral (r giving and receiving), fingering (r giving and receiving), mommy kink, strap on (r giving), bondage, wax play, temperature play, praise

word count: 4.2k

“Do you want to stay for a while? I'm making pasta tonight,” you told the redhead as you watched her slip her bra back on.

“I've got plans,” Natasha replied without sparing you a glance. You bit your lip and nodded even though she couldn't see you, feeling the familiar disappointment bring about a pang in your chest. You were used to the spy coming over to hook up and leaving immediately after, but everytime you fooled yourself into believing that maybe she would enjoy your company beyond sex for once. You never said anything to Natasha, knowing that your absence of any persistence was what kept her coming back. She didn't have time for relationships and she certainly didn't have time for anyone needy. But you couldn't say the same for yourself and you couldn't continue to endure the ache that Natasha brought to your life.

“I don't think we should do this anymore,” you declared. Natasha looked at you with a raised brow as she pulled her jeans up, seeming sceptical of your announcement.

“Why?” She asked plainly, certainly not appearing bothered. You wished she was.

“You know why,” you countered. She didn't respond as she stared at you. “I want a relationship. I know I won't get one with you so I want to focus on other people who do,” you told her.

“Like who?” She pushed.

“I don't know yet,” you admitted. Natasha hummed with a small smile, as though she wasn't buying a word of what you said. “I'm serious, Nat” you insisted but it was clear that wasn't going through when the redhead grabbed her phone and keys.

“I'll see you around, detka,” she called over her shoulder as she sauntered across your studio apartment like it was her own home.

“No you won't!” You tried to call back but the heavy slam of the door cut you off. You huffed and lay back in the messy bed, glancing at the space next to you where Natasha had been laying just ten minutes prior.

*

You had blocked and deleted Natasha’s number so that you wouldn't be tempted to contact her again. You meant every word of what you said to her the last time you met but that didn't ensure you had the willpower to follow through. You hadn't met many people in the cold winter months that followed, unable to stop comparing them to a certain redhead. None of their eyes held the same overwhelming intensity as hers. None of their lips promised sinful highs from just one brief touch. None of their hips held that same hypnotising sway when they knew you were watching. It was unfair to place those kinds of comparisons on them,especially as they were all far more genuine and interested as Natasha had ever been. Perhaps that was the problem.

It was late on a Saturday evening when you heard a knock on your door. You had decided to have a night to yourself to finally assemble a lego kit you had bought the week before, but it seemed it would have to wait a little longer.

When you opened your door, you froze at the sight of Natasha in your hallway. She was dressed up in what you could only assume was the attire for Stark’s latest party she must have ditched. It wouldn't be the first time she had done it to come and see you.

“Miss me?” Natasha asked with a knowing smirk when your eyes took in how short the crimson red dress fell. You wanted to deny it, but lying to a spy was futile.

“I missed you,” she told you, voice low in a way you had heard countless times and had never been able to walk away from. She took a step forward and your eyes snapped to hers. You could never fight the spell they cast over you either, not that you wanted to.

“You shouldn't be here,” you reminded yourself more than her. She tilted her head slightly, her smirk unwavering as your resolve crumbled in front of her.

“But we're both glad I am,” she pointed out as you suddenly felt her hand grip your own with an assertive gentleness. Natasha guided it towards her and you let her, enchanted as you watched your own hand disappear under the fabric. The pads of your fingers skimmed across her soft thighs as she led you higher until you were met with damp lace. You exhaled shakily, finally moving your digits by your own will to stroke her covered cunt that clenched at your barricaded touch.

One soft moan from Natasha was all it took for you to pull her in by the waist and slam the door behind her as you pressed the redhead up against the wall and let your lips re-familiarise themselves. She grinned in triumph against you and you happily surrendered the price for a taste of Natasha that you could've sworn was intoxicating.

You pushed your thigh between hers and felt her buck down on it instantly. You grabbed her thighs to encourage her to grind, hoping to see a wet patch on your sweatpants when you were done. Natasha moaned again and you took the opportunity to let your tongue swipe across hers.

To your surprise, she pulled away and forced you straight to your knees. You opened your mouth to object but Natasha grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled your head back to look up at her. “You're not in charge here,” she reminded you. You struggled to nod in her grip.

“I'm sorry,” You whispered, tears brimming from the sting.

“Show me,” she ordered, guiding your head to where she needed you most whilst she pulled down her ruined underwear. You breathed in the redhead’s scent as she did so, squirming where you knelt in desperation to have her in your mouth. You barely had to wait, Natasha’s just rivalling your own.

You moaned in synchronised relief when your tongue was finally flat against Natasha's cunt. Faintly registering the dull thud of the Russian’s head dropping against the wall, you gripped her thighs as a means to anchor yourself to Natasha and ate her out like you starved. Of her, you had.

“Fuck, this is what you're made for, detka, and it's all for me,” she reminded you with a particularly harsh pull on your hair. You mumbled an agreement as you sunk your tongue into her, eager to savour as much of the dangerous woman as you could.

“You can fuck those other sluts all you want, malysh, I know you'll never be this drunk in their pussies.” You groaned, your stomach flipping at Natasha’s well placed arrogance when she told you what you already knew. “Give me your fingers,” she ordered and you complied.

To Natasha’s displeasure, you pulled away as you brought your fingers up to spread her folds, though the redhead held off protesting when she realised you just wanted to watch your fingers sink into her. She watched on with flushed features as you bit your lip and pushed two fingers in with a soft groan. Her warmth wrapped around you in a welcoming embrace, throbbing and twitching as you pushed your digits knuckle deep.

“Good fucking girl,” Natasha sighed. You snapped your gaze to the steady rise and fall of Natasha's chest where one of her hands had slipped under her dress to play with her breasts. You felt yourself ache as your eyes met and Natasha used her free hand to return your mouth to her.

You allowed her to manoeuvre your body as she pleased, finding it all too easy to follow her authority and let her use you for her own pleasure, a dynamic that seemed to serve you both well. You pumped your fingers steadily inside of Natasha as your lips wrapped around her hardened clit that pulsed in your mouth as though it had a heartbeat of its own. The spy bucked her hips into your fave at the action as she swore in Russian You smiled and curled your fingers towards yourself, caressing that sweet spot that made Natasha’s thighs tightened around your head.

“Such an obedient fucktoy,” Natasha seemed to mumble to herself more than you as she watched you fuck her with purpose, as though it was your sole mission. To be fair, that was about right. Natasha had continued to plague your thoughts in her absence. Images of her naked body beneath yours and the heavenly sound of her cumming played constantly through your days as you ached to have another fix of the redhead. And now you were getting it, you weren't about to make it quick. Though you were desperate to feel her cum, you took your time with the spy, wanting to make her orgasm all the better until she finally snapped and demanded it. You would never deny her.

You curled and pumped your fingers at a steady pace, slowing down everytime the redhead’s breathing became too erratic. You'd sooth her frustrations by flattening your tongue on her clit or sucking the throbbing bud gently. But Natasha wouldn't let you withhold from her for much longer.

“Come on, detka, show me how much you've missed me and make me cum. Mommy wants to soak your pretty face,” she told you with a short breath.

You took her in your mouth and pushed a third finger in with little resistance. The spy was wet enough to allow you to surpass her tightness and stretch her soft walls that clung to you. You thrust them fast, deep and with a perfect rhythm that had Natasha’s head spinning wildly.

“That's it…yes! Fuck,” Natasha moaned came, your name spilling over her lips as she gripped the back of your head and grinded herself on your mouth and fingers to ease herself down from her blinding high. Her grip remained tight when she steadied herself against the wall and gazed down at you with such a blissed expression that you couldn't help but flex your fingers inside her once more.

“Greedy thing,” Natasha tutted as she pushed you away. A whine escaped your lips before you could stop it and the redhead gave you a fake pout. She swiped at the wetness on your chin with her thumb and pushed it past your lips, watching with bemusement as you hummed.

“Go put on the harness and lay on the bed,” She told you as she took her thumb away. You scrambled to your feet at the idea and made a b-line for your chest of drawers. “And strip,” she added. You did as she said as quickly as you could, only turning around when you heard Natasha searching through your bedside drawer.

You lay down just as the spy retrieved her favourite dildo you owned, the maroon one that was on the larger size. You throbbed at the thought of getting to see her take it again and attached it swiftly as Natasha let her dress pool on the floor and climbed on top of you, a small smirk playing on her lip as she took in your form.

Her soft hands wandered down your exposed stomach several times, enjoying you shuddering under her touch. In moments like that, when everything she did felt so precise and controlled, you were reminded that you were in bed with a former assassin. She was ruthless and unimaginably deadly, and yet you wanted nothing more than to see her take your strap.

Natasha spat in her hand as she sat on your knee, letting you feel how wet she still was, and brought it down to the dildo to slowly spread it. Your breathing became shaky as you wanted on, feeling the base of the toy rub painfully against your clit.

“Fuck, mommy, let me fuck you. Please,” you begged as the friction built, though not being able to fuck the woman above you was what caused you the most distress.

“Soon, dove,” Natasha chuckled, getting onto her knees to hover over the toy. Your hands immediately fell to her hips but the redhead smacked them away. “Look, don't touch,” she chided.

“But-”

“Be good,” she warned and you fell silent, bunching up the duvet next to you instead.

You were caught in a trance the moment your cock grazed Natasha’s cunt, spreading her lips apart as she gripped the base and eventually sunk down on the head. You so badly wanted to help her take you, but you couldn't risk loosing what was to come.

“Making mommy feel so good,” Natasha mumbled as she lowered herself further on the toy, enthralled by the stretch to her soft walls that gripped you with might.

The redhead placed her hands behind her on your knees and in doing so greatly improved your view of her cunt swallowing your cock. You groaned at the mesmerising sight and could've sworn you could feel how she clenched around you with every inch she took until Natasha was fully seated on the toy you refused to use with anyone else.

The spy lifted herself halfway off of the toy before she was slamming herself down on it again. The motion shook you both and in an attempt to aid her pleasure, you brought your hands up to Natasha's chest and cupped her tits. The redhead managed to chuckles admist her breathy moans. “You just can't keep your hands to yourself,” she mused but made no effort to stop you, too engrossed in the feeling of the dildo working inside you.

“No, mommy,” you agreed blindly as you felt her nipples harden under your touch. Your thumbs drifted over them while Natasha steadily bounced herself above you, the occasional curse and gasped “yes” being uttered. She was a vision like that, using you for her own pleasure all while you laid back and watched her angelic features communicate the parade of sensations ablaze in her.

Once she was accustomed to the size and stretch had subsided, your cock reached Natasha’s depths with ease, seemingly stroking every minute nerve as it did and threatened to make the redhead buck under the pleasure. “Fuck me,” she hissed when her legs started to become numb.

You didn't need telling twice. You gripped Natasha’s hips with bruising relief and began thrusting your hips up to meet the pace the spy needed. “Oh god, that's it,” she confirmed, slouching forwards to rest her hands on your stomach to better support the sudden shift.

“Don't stop,” Natasha ordered with underlying desperation.

“Never,” you whined when her nails dug into your skin, imprinting half moons that would linger for several days. It only spurred you on as you guided Natasha’s frame into your own in a heated collision, one that you could never be allowed to control.

In a blur, Natasha’s trained hand wrapped itself around your throat and squeezed at the sides. You immediately felt the blood rush but it didn't defer your movements. Natasha beamed down at you as she watched your fight off your internal conflict ignited by your light-headedness.

“Don't stop,” she said, this time with a challenging tint. You accepted with a rushed nod and continued to pound the toy into the redhead. The moan it brought from her was nothing short of profane and made your entire body buss as though in a state of call and response.

“You're gonna make me cum like this,” she told you. “Gonna make mommy cum on your cock,” she said as she toppled forwards almost entirely flat against your front and moved her hips in a frantic grind.

“Please,” you begged as one hand grabbed her ass to push her deeper in.

“Fuck, y/n,” she groaned with a sharp cry, her grip around your throat tightening momentarily as she came. You saw white just as Natasha did and bathed in the euphoria that crashed over the older woman as she panted and moaned in your ear. Her muscles twitched as she came down from her orgasm and slowly rode your cock through it to sooth her pulsing cunt until she finally collapsed on top of you.

Barely a moment passed before Natasha peered over at you with dark eyes and a promising smirk. “You're gonna be the death of me,” you told her as you flipped your bodies over and grabbed your still attached hips together.

“I'm worth dying for,” she replied with a pleased smile.

*

Nat: I'll be over in 10. You glanced at the message on your phone and huffed to yourself. Natasha had added her number back to your phone when you had gone to get some water the last time she was over and you hadn't bothered to delete it again. You still had every intention of moving on from the spy, you just needed to figure out how.

Me: maybe I'm out rn. You replied.

Nat: funny. You huffed again and tossed your phone to the side, knowing your ittitance with the redhead wouldn't last once she had her hands on you.

You were right. The moment you were pushed back on the bed with the torturous spy following after you, being mad at her was the last thing on your mind. In fact, you were so enthralled by the feeling of her lips on yours that you didn't notice what her wandering hands held until the S.H.I.E.L.D issued handcuffs were secured around your wrists above your head. That was new.

Natasha looked down at you with a devilish grin and you knew that wasn't all she had planned. “You trust me, don't you?” She asked in a sickly sweet voice as she produced a blindfold. You stared at the black material as you nodded your head but Natasha tutted.

“Use your words, malysh,” she chided.

“Yes,” you breathed out. Natasha gave a low hum of approval and placed the soft fabric over your eyes and tied it at the back of your head. With your senses heightened, you almost jumped at the light kiss pressed to your cheek.

“I'll be right back,” she whispered against your ear. You shuddered and the bed creaked quietly as she got off but you didn't hear her leave and for a moment you wondered if she was still there, admiring your bare form as you listened out for her. There wasn't much point, of course. If the black widow didn't want to be heard, she wouldn't be.

It felt as though aeons passed before you felt the bed dip again. You turned your head in that direction on instinct, waiting for any indicator as to what the other woman was doing. She didn't say a word, giving you no warning when a sudden bitterly cold object was placed on your torso. You inhaled sharply and heard Natasha chuckled as she slid the object across you and left a wet trail. An ice cube. You would have laughed if you weren't so shocked, not taking her seriously when Natasha had mentioned it months ago.

“You're cute when you squirm,” Natasha commented. “Is it too cold for you, detka? You need something to warm you up?” She asked. You searched your brain for what she could possibly mean, clocking it just as you heard a lighter being flicked on for several seconds.

“I didn't think you were serious,” you admitted with an anxious laugh as you rightfully pictured the candle Natasha held above your naked body.

“Are you changing your mind?” She asked as she removed the ice cube and replaced it with her warm mouth. You gasped at the pleasantly wet feeling of Natasha’s tongue picking the water off of your torso. Fuck, you whised you could see her.

“No,” you managed to say.

“That's my good girl,” She smiled against your skin as she allowed the candle to burn and brought another ice cube to your stomach - lower this time. You jumped at the expected cold but didn't get a chance to shiver because Natasha was quick to leave open mouthed kisses across the chilled area.

Natasha revelled in your conflicted responses to her touches, admiring the way your body was entirely at her mercy to torment as she saw fit. After such a shit mission, she relished in that control.

Pulling the ice cube away from your sensitive skin, Natasha watched how your muscles tensed in expectation, but Natasha was anything but predictable and instead allowed a small bead of hot wax to dribble over you. You hissed once more though this time you pulled on the restraints around your wrists, only relaxing when the redhead locked a long strip of the wax off of your body.

“Mommy,” you whined, unable to tell if the heat from her mouth made it better or worse, all you knew was that it was exquisitely intense and unlike anything you had ever felt.

“You're taking it so well,” Natasha cooed as she kissed the valley between your breasts. At her words, you felt your already wet cunt clench. You tried to steady your breathing and focus on the striking heats but it was impossible to ignore the pulsing.

You had never let Natasha touch you before, the one trait she shared with everyone else you had been with. It wasn't like they never offered, you had just never been comfortable enough to let them. Natasha herself had asked countless times but you always shrugged her off. It didn't matter, you were a giver anyway. But with every round of alternating temperature patterns, it became harder to disregard your need.

“You're so wet,” Natasha noted as she pushed your thighs apart and kept you open, intending to focus on your thighs before she took in the sight of your soaked pussy. Her mouth watered as she watched you clench around nothing and she couldn't help but wonder how tight you were.

Just to add to your aching frustrations, Natasha spilled more wax across you, this time dripping down the inside of your thighs. Your moans were needier than Natasha had ever heard and it only spurred her on as she licked the wax off your skin and hummed at the scents of vanilla.

“Such a messy thing,” she chuckled. “Oh, detka, that looks painful,” she pouted as she saw your arousal had smeared to your thighs. “You need mommy to take care of that?” She asked, not expecting your response to be any different than usual.

“Yeah,” you whined. Natasha’s eyes widened.

“Yeah? Want me to take care of this pretty pussy?” She continued as her excitement grew.

“Please,” you whispered, your walls finally crumbling.

Natasha didn't waste another second, her mouth was on your cunt in an instant and you both gave a gluttonous moan at the contact. “Fuck,” you cried out as the redhead flattened her tongue and explored your cunt with a newfound vigour. Your thighs clasped around Natasha’s head and your hips seemed to develop their own free will as you desperately tried to grind against the source of your disorientating pleasure.

“God, you taste so good,” she mumbled against you before sinking her tongue inside. Her moans resonated through your entire body, vibrations brushing every nerve ending as she gripped your hips and forced you to stay still as she fucked you.

“Please,” you whined though you had no idea what you were pleading for. It was all so much. Natasha seemed to know what you needed and swiftly switched to sucking your clit in her mouth. You tugged on your restraints and arched your back sharply, core ablaze.

The spy examined you closely for everything that made your body shudder and cunt clench. It wasn't hard to figure out how highly responsive and sensitive you were. Poor thing, Natasha had thought as she sucked on your puffy lips as a momentary relief.

It didn't take long to work you up to your orgasm and Natasha was more than ready to give it to you. “It's alright, detka, cum for me,” she coaxed before sinking her tongue into your cunt and setting on the pace you needed from her.

“Gonne,” you whined as the pressure built and built until it was too much and you went spiralling over the edge, floating mid air until you tumbled back down. Natasha pulled the blindfold down just as you came and your eyes locked in that moment, watching each other become entirely enthralled by the other’s acts.

“Give me another,” she instructed clearly, something dark lurking behind her eyes.

You weren't sure you could until Natasha pushed two fingers into your tight cunt. You cried out as your already overworked nerves were pushed once more. But it ached so good, hurting in just the right way that you didn't want it to stop.

Natasha’s fingers thrust and curled inside you as you became a mess beneath her. She cooed sweet whispers of praise as she coaxed you through another orgasm, touching you in the ways she had always envisaged to see you come undone.

You came again with a silent gasp, your body too wrecked to have the strength for anything else. Natasha pumped her fingers steadily as she watched you and left kisses across your inner thigh to bring you back to her.

“Beautiful,” she commented as she withdrew her fingers and brought them up to her lips, staring at you with a satisfied smirk as she sucked on her digits. You watched her through hooded eyes, your frazzled brain trying to figure out how you were ever going to be able to part from the assassin.

“Mine,” she whispered as she kissed back up your chest, as though she knew what you were pondering. “Always mine.”

[kikixreverie]

Need to know

Best friend!Bucky x Fem!reader

Summary - When your best friend starts acting strange and you're left confused about his feelings, Natasha manages to convince you to try to make him jealous, what could go wrong?

Word count - 5k

Warnings - kind of smut, Dry-humping, slight dirty talk, a lot of kissing, fluff, jealousy

A/n - This was a request from an anon but Tumblr ate the ask... and I don't have it written down, but it was something along the lines of 'Best friend!bucky x reader where she asks him advice about a guy to make him jealous'. I wrote this months ago and it definitely wasn't supposed to be this long but here we are. I have edited it about 50 times now and still feel kinda anxious about it since I haven't posted in a while so I really hope you enjoy!

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

You had always been close with Bucky. Always. Having met in your teenage years and grown up together, you were thick as thieves, he'd been your best friend for now the majority of your life. Someone you'd always go to over anyone else when problems would arise at home or school, and he did the same with you.

He had found you hiding out in the library on your second day at your new school, picking at your food with distaste as you sat alone. You were surprised at the fact that the boy had even talked to you in the first place, offering a small wave of his hand and a kind smile when you first saw him, but when he asked politely if he could sit with you and didn't hesitate to pull his lunch from his backpack and complain as dramatically as possible that there was just 'far too much food in his bag and no way he could eat it all', you remember smiling the most you had in weeks, rolling your eyes as you took the fruit he had offered you wordlessly.

You'd been best friends ever since, and there was always this unspoken understanding between you, one that you never had with Steve, as much as you loved him, or Natasha, as close as you are. It was always different with Bucky, always a different atmosphere between the two of you.

That was also unspoken. You'd mentioned it once to Natasha, explained to her that somehow, just being in the same room as him managed to calm that ever-looming anxiety you tended to feel, and when you'd meet his eyes across the distance, you always knew exactly what he was trying to tell you without any words needing to be spoken, that for weeks after your childhood pet passed away when you were 15, Bucky held your hand every single day because your anxiety had spiked and he had noticed the constant shake to them. That became a hard habit to lose.

Her response was 'the look', almost deadpan, wordlessly saying to you 'I know you're not a fucking idiot, c'mon now'.

You had blushed and changed the subject.

Of course there were times you might've looked at him a bit differently, you met at a fairly young age, and it was after meeting him that your interest in boys grew.

Watching the scrawny boy you'd known since you were 13 get his braces off and grow a sudden foot taller was a lot for your growing heart to handle, and then that Brooklyn-boy charm came in and girls were falling at his feet, not one of them knowing or caring about who he was, just hypnotised by those light blue eyes. You always hoped he was too distracted by those girls to notice how desperately hard you tried not to fall under his spell too.

So yeah sure, there may have been a time during your mid-to-late teens and possibly your early twenties that you might have liked him in a' more than a friend' way.

But that didn't mean anything had to come of it.

However, there's a certain red-headed Russian woman in your life that, for some reason, refuses to let you hide in your dark pit of misery and denial.

You shouldn't have even mentioned it. the one time you willingly brought up the topic of James Barnes with the all-knowing Natasha and she had immediately fed your delusions.

"I'm not saying he was jealous at all, Nat, I'm just saying... he looked kind of upset."

"What kind of upset? Did he look sad? Angry? Were his eyebrows all furrowed? ooh, did his fists clench? I bet his fists clenched. The jaw definitely clenched. He's a jaw clencher for sure-"

"Nat, Stop! He just..." You groaned, throwing your head back dramatically as you leaned against her kitchen counter, "He just seemed off."

"Okay, but did his jaw-"

"Yes! Now can we stop talking about it."

She stopped what she was doing to stare at you, her eyebrows raised, "You do realise you're the one that brought it up right?"

You sighed and pressed your palm to your forehead, before dragging it down your face, and Natasha tutted, wrapping her arms around you in a tight squeeze.

"You're stressing yourself out too much about all this, babe. Why don't you just ask him how he feels."

You pulled back from the comforting embrace quickly, but still stayed in her arms, "Fuck that. No. No way. Then he'd know, he'd know why I asked, or he'd at least ask me why I asked and then I'd either have to run away or lie to him and I've never been able to-"

"Okay, breathe angel. Stop this, you can't do this forever, honey. I know you're scared of losing him but this is what could break your friendship if you let it, half the time you're avoiding him because you are so scared of him knowing how you feel." Said Natasha, before she pulled away to continue with her cooking.

"What do you mean how I feel?" You asked, feeling your cheeks grow hot when she sighed and shook her head, not even looking your way.

"Nope, no, not even gonna get started on that one. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

You opened your mouth to argue but she only gave you another look, and your mouth snapped closed.

It was silent for a moment and you leant your elbows on the counter, holding your face in your hands as you watched her expertly sprinkle different spices into her food, but you knew not to get too comfortable in her silence, Natasha was scheming, and that was definitely something to be frightened of.

You practically jumped out of your skin when she finally broke the silence, "I have an idea, but I need you to have an open mind and actually listen for once, okay?"

You hesitated, struggling to hold the intense eye-contact she was currently giving you. A part of you was ready to say no, tell her to leave it be and let you wither in a pit of sadness, but the rest of you leaned in to her words, wanting, no, needing something to happen, anything after years of this constant stalemate, this strange game of cat and mouse between yourself and your best friend. You were constantly holding your breath around Bucky, waiting for something inevitable to happen. What that would be? You had no idea, but you couldn't do it anymore.

"...go on." You finally said, having made up your mind without realising. Natasha almost seemed surprised, but you weren't sure that was even possible. She nodded and gave you a smile.

"You wanna know if he was jealous? Give him a reason to be and then figure out if he is, that way, you'll have more of an idea of how he's feeling, and when it comes to talking to him about your feelings, you might actually do it this time. Plus, you might get some info on how to get him even more interested."

You thought over her words, still confused as to what her grand plan was, "And how might I do that exactly?"

"Say you've got a date, ask him for advice, play with him a little bit. Works every time, trust me."

She said it like it was no big deal, and you were stuck on the way her smirk widened when she said 'play with him a little bit'.

"I just told you I can't lie to him." You replied.

Natasha simply raised her eyebrow at you, "As if you haven't been lying to him since you were 15."

"Hey, that's not lying, it's just... concealing certain parts of the truth."

She tilted her head in your direction but you ignored her, turning away completely and crossing your arms over your chest with a huff.

"Don't lie then, tell him that your interested in some guy and play it off like your asking for advice. He doesn't have to know that he is said guy and its all a secret ploy to make his jaw clench again."

"Nat." You groaned.

"What?"

"Why would I ask him for advice though? He knows I'd go to you."

Nat sighed this time, frustrated with your excuses, "Tell him you wanted advice from a guy."

"But Steve-"

"Just do it! If he's actually jealous he'll be more focused on the fact that your trying to get into pants that aren't his." She raised her voice, dropping her wooden spoon into the simmering pot to turn to you, that Russian accent peaking through her words.

"Nat, I'm telling you now, he isn't jealous."

She almost started to argue, but then she spotted that dejected look in your eye and stopped herself, taking a deep breath to calm her frustrations and think of a good response, "Are you saying that because you believe it? Or because you want him to be jealous so bad you wish he wasn't, because you're terrified of losing him."

You went silent, staring down at the floor when you realised you had no response for her.

"Thought so." She said before shuffling closer, pulling you in for a hug, "Look babe, you need to stop worrying about what could happen, and just focus on what is happening right now. If you're not ready to tell him how you feel, you don't have to. Trying this won't hurt, and it won't hurt your friendship, okay? Go one step at a time, you're getting too ahead of yourself."

You thought about it for a while as you enjoyed the hug, before you pulled back and nodded, thanking her for the advice and apologising for being difficult, she only chuckled and began to dish up the food.

"No worries honey, I'm used to it."

It's not like you had ever said you'd actually do it, and you never exactly planned to. But Natasha's plan had started to loom over every interaction you had with Bucky, so much so that without realising you had started to avoid him, and that only made you feel worse.

It took a sleepless night of tossing and turning and missing your best friend like crazy when you finally made the decision. You can't do this forever, why not just say fuck it for once.

It started when Bucky had invited you to his place for a movie night, like he did every weekend, like he had the past two weekends where you had declined, but this time you said yes, and decided that this would be the night you tried to make him jealous.

You weren't proud of it, and a part of you felt incredibly guilty as you stood at his door and knocked. No matter how many times Natasha told you this was harmless, you still couldn't believe her.

"Are we knocking now? What happened to 'your place is my place'?" Bucky asked as he opened the front door to let you in, barely moving aside so your arm brushed against his when you walked past him.

"Ha ha. Just didn't know if it was locked or not." You punched his shoulder and he scrunched up his face in mock offense.

"Sure. Go sit down and pick a movie, I'm just getting some snacks ready." Bucky said, nodding to the couch before he turned and walked into the kitchen, black sweatpants so low on his hips you could just about see the waistband of his boxers, wearing a black t-shirt with his hair pulled back into the low bun you'd helped him learn how to do.

You nodded slowly, watching him walk away for a few seconds before rolling your eyes at your own idiotic behaviour and slumping down across Bucky's couch, the remote in your hand as you lazily flicked through Netflix.

"Any particular genre?" You shouted out to Bucky, who came out from the other room to shrug his shoulders at you.

"Like I said, doll, whatever you'd like. Only fair after I made you come with me to see that god-awful movie Pheobe forced me to watch."

You snorted a laugh, frowning when he walked away again, your mind wandering to the last time you went to the movies with Bucky, over a month ago now, when he had forced you to third-wheel his second date with 'Pheobe' for no apparent reason.

It was almost humiliating the way she had pulled you aside in the bathroom.

-

"I seriously don't mean to be rude but... why are you here?" Pheobe whispered, despite the fact that every stall was empty and Bucky was stood outside the building, but your face grew heated as the woman across from you voiced the exact question you'd been asking yourself all night, "Like, at first I thought you were a lesbian, but after that story you told earlier I'm assuming you're not, which is fine, but why are you here? I told Bucky this was a date. Does he really not like me at all?"

You were stumped, opening and closing your mouth like a blank-minded fish, searching for the answer that you didn't have, only coming up empty, "Honestly Phoebe, I have no idea. I'm sure he does like you, maybe he just wanted me to come to..."

"Maybe he just wanted to go on a date with you."

"What?!"

"You heard me. I think I'm the third-wheel here." Her voice went quiet, and you instantly felt bad.

"No, Pheobe. That's absurd, he's my best friend."

"You might want to re-think that."

--

"What did you pick?" Bucky asked, placing the bowl of popcorn in-between you as he sat down and you smiled at him, pushing away the memory.

"Twilight." You replied, sinking back into your seat as you grabbed and handful of popcorn and shovelled it into your mouth.

Bucky nodded as his eyes focused on the screen, his jawline prominent as he chewed, licking his lips of the salty flavouring, a light stubble on his jaw from not shaving in a few days-

"You good?"

You gulped loudly, taking a breath as you met his eyes, embarrassed that you'd been caught staring, "Yup." You said, nodding as you turned to look at the screen again, ignoring his amused chuckle.

Your mind wandered to the conversation you'd had with Natasha only hours ago.

'Don't overthink it, just bring it up when you get the chance, be casual about it'

No overthinking, casual. Easy. Maybe now would be a good time to bring it up, casually, without overthinking anything.

"Actually-" You started, clearing your throat when it immediately closed up and your fight or flight was begging to kick in, your mind instantly wondering to all of the negative repercussions this could-

You were definitely overthinking right now.

"Yes?" Bucky asked, still half watching the movie before he fully turned to face you, sensing that this sounded fairly serious.

Definitely not casual either.

"I wanted to uh, talk to you about something." The temptation to smack yourself on the forehead was growing unbearably stronger by the second, but you imagined that would probably raise some concern. Your hands twitched by your sides instead.

"What is it?"

"Well, it's kind of- I basically, well." You tried to awkwardly laugh it off, but sighed instead, just fucking say it, fucking lie to your best friend to find out if he's jealous, "There's this guy."

His eyebrows raised, lips parting, before he quickly snapped his mouth shut and furrowed his eyebrows, taking on a sort of clinical expression as he nodded, motioning for you to continue.

"He's uh... I really- like... him, and... he's..." You took a breath, too many pauses, "different, you know?"

He scrunched his face up, "Different? What does that even mean."

"I don't know I just-" You covered your face with your hands, regretting every decision that had led you to this point. "I really want him to like me."

It was quiet for a moment, and you wanted to peak at him, but couldn't.

Bucky sighed, hands gently taking hold of your wrists to pull your hands away from your face, "Look sweetheart, if he's really a smart guy, he'll already like you. Any person would be lucky to have you, you don't need to change for anyone."

You rolled your eyes at him but smiled nonetheless, "I know Buck, thank you. I just..."  

Don't overthink it.

"I was wondering if maybe, you might give me some advice? I'm seeing him on Monday and I guess I just want to make him want me, you know?"

He paused, still holding onto your wrists, "Want you?"

"Yeah, you know like- I wanna know what guys really like. I want to make sure he'll never forget me. That sort of thing."

"Sweets, I don't know if you should be asking me that. Why don't you just talk to Natasha if it's that important." He said, letting go of your wrists and pulling away.

"Because I want to hear it from a guy, and Steve's far too awkward for this conversation. C'mon Buck, please. I want you to teach me."

"You want me to teach you?" He asked, more than slightly breathless, and you quickly realised that this sounded much less like getting advice for a guy you like and more trying to get info on what Bucky liked sex-wise.

You did not plan for it to go down that route, and you wondered if you should pull it back, change the subject and try this again another time, without getting too explicit, but the way Bucky had almost whispered those words, was driving you insane. You wanted this to go further. "Yeah, I want to give this guy the night of his life."

He clenched his jaw, and tried not to laugh at the situation, almost tempted to text Natasha at that very moment and break the news. 'Jaw has clenched, I repeat, the jaw has clenched'. You managed to keep that temptation under control, still finding the situation slightly humorous before you actually realised what this meant.

Holy fuck, he's jealous.

You knew now was as good a time as any to push further, and with your new-found realisation, came a new-found confidence, the nerves pushed to the back of your mind, the only thing left of them being the fluttering in your chest.

"What do you think I should wear?" You held back a smirk when he leaned forward in his seat, elbows rested on his knees as he dropped his face into his hands. You kept pushing, "Remember that green dress I wore to your birthday last year? Do you think I should wear that one? You'd think he'd like that? Would you like it if it were you?"

"What do you mean if it were me?"

You froze, your cheeks heating up, that heat spreading to your neck as you quickly tried to save yourself whilst keeping this strange relaxed smoothness to your voice. "If you went on a date with Pheobe, and she wore that dress, would you like it?" You asked, before deciding to push it even further. Natasha's voice echoed in your mind 'play with him a little', "Would you think about taking it off her?"

He didn't even hesitate to reply, turning his head to look at you as he continued to sit forward, an almost angered air to his words, "It wouldn't suit her."

"You don't like it? But I thought-"

"Yes, I liked the dress, you looked fucking gorgeous in it. It just would suit her." He urged, the words coming out in one breath, his voice straining over the final word as if it was physically uncomfortable to say, like he held a certain distaste for the word. Her.

You could sense the atmosphere in the room changing, warping with the darker, heavy feeling that radiated off the man you were teasing without him even realising it, and although you knew you should probably stop, that you were getting on his nerves and for some reason this seemed to be a touchy subject, that nagging, red-headed voice was seeping into your thoughts again, telling you to go further, so you continued to push.

"Would he like it do you think?" You asked, tilting your head, keeping that sickly sweet innocent look on your face, he sighed and closed his eyes, his tongue wetting his lips again, teeth biting at the soft skin.

"If he had half a brain he'd fucking love it." He breathed, eyebrows furrowing along the words 'fucking love it' and you knew exactly what he was thinking of, the picture he had in his head.

Your smile faded, watching the way he opened his eyes but kept them trained to his feet. That heat grew in your chest, that weight, that feeling, weaving its way around your heart and seeping into your bloodstream, it carried through your veins, and suddenly you had never felt closer to your teenage self than you did now, like she had pushed the older you aside and taken her place, because she knew this feeling, she was the only version of you to ever fully accept and admit it for what it was, that the reason she blushed so much when her best friend asked her to prom because he'd rather go with you than some random girl he didn't care about, was because you loved him, and of course you still do now, of course you do.

You thought of what Pheobe said that night, you thought of what Natasha was constantly telling you, or that time Steve accidentally slipped that Bucky had a crush on you when you were younger, and you looked at him now, quickly realising that it was never them who warped your idea of Bucky's feelings, it was you.

The feeling had encapsulated your entire being now, the realisation of yours and his feelings and you decided that you had both waited far too long if this is what you wanted.

And you wanted him.

So you continued to play, speaking with a much more serious air this time, you didn't smirk, you just watched him as you spoke.

"I guess that's settled then, I just need to know what to wear under it." You practically whispered it, the warm apartment feeling sweltering now.

"Fuck." He whispered to himself, dropping his head in his hands again, "What are you doing?"

He looked at you from his bent position, almost looking desperate. No, he did look desperate, and you hated and loved it at the same time, for two very different reasons, you understood exactly what he was feeling, having been a victim to his teasing one too many times.

You parted your lips to talk, thinking for a second that you might actually be upsetting him, but then his eyes dropped to watch the movement, staring at your lips as he released a breath.

"I'm asking you for advice, Buck." You said quietly, eyes darkening as you leaned closer, your nose almost touching his and his eyes dropped again, entranced by your lips, "What about kissing?"

His lips parted, eyes darting up to meet yours, but he made no move to go back, in fact, you realised with a feather-light touch of his nose to yours, that he had inched closer to you, "What?"

His eyes were soft as he waited for you to speak, no apprehension to be seen.

"I need to know how to kiss him, how guys like it, you know?" He moved back an inch, that not so subtle disappointment in his eyes, "How do you like to be kissed, Buck?"

He shook his head in a barely there movement, eyes still not leaving yours, swallowing roughly when he caught you looking at his lips.

You moved closer to him, filling that inch that he had put between you, your heart thumping faster in your chest when he did the same, like he was magnetised, he looked at your lips again and you decided to take the chance.

"Like this?" You asked, before filling the gap completely and your pressed your lips to his, kissing him soft and slow, your stomach fluttering when he didn't hesitate to reciprocate, kissing you back the exact way you were guiding him to, but you pulled back before letting it continue for long, his breath fanning out across your lips, you gaze fluttered to his eyes for a moment, "Or like this?"

You kissed him again, this time harder, more urgency in it, your right hand lifting to his shoulder before you slid it to the nape of his neck, a sudden desperate need for his lips on every inch of your skin overcoming your thoughts when his arms wrapped around your waist.

You pulled away again and he tried desperately hard to follow you, eyes opening to voice his frustration when you wouldn't let him.

But you brushed your thumb across his bottom lip, silencing him, "Or maybe like this."

This, this was definitely the one.

You kissed him soft and slow, but this time parted your lips to brush your tongue across his, relishing in the noise that escaped him when you did so, and the way he then did the same to you, parting his lips in a way that breathed hot air into the kiss.

You were so enraptured with the taste of him that you barely even noticed when he pulled you onto his lap, your knees digging into the couch on either side of him. You only realised when his thighs between yours had suddenly stopped your ability to squeeze your thighs together in hopes of relieving that throbbing ache that had formed between them.

This kiss continued much longer than you had planned it to, forgetting what you were going to do next, but you didn't mind much, too caught up in the way his lips were so stupidly soft and his tongue was hot and wet, and his hands were huge and grasping at your clothes with a desperation so similar to the way you pulled his hair.

You pulled away again, much to his dismay as he practically growled and rolled his eyes in frustration. He rested his head back against the couch and licked his kiss swollen lips.

You needed more, barely letting yourself think about the fact that you had just kissed Bucky, The Bucky, Your Bucky.

"What about this, Buck? You like it when a girl does this?" You asked and he frowned, looking up at you in almost annoyed confusion, opening his mouth to speak but then you moved forward on his lap, sitting in a way that your core was pressed against his, his cock twitching in his sweatpants when you rolled those hips of yours, the annoyance and confusion faded and he reached for your hips, eyes fluttering shut when you made the movement again, biting your lip when it stimulated your clit, "Do you think you could come from this, Bucky? Or would you need more? Would you want my hand, or my mouth? Or would you just be begging to fuck me at this point."

He groaned at practically every question, his hands holding your hips as you grinded yourself on him, his cock now achingly hard as his hips started to lift slightly.

"Fuck, sweetheart, what is this? Why are you doing this?" He asked, his voice urgent and needy as he forced himself to stay still under you, gripping your hips tighter to signal for you to stop your movements, much to either of your dismay, "Please tell me this isn't all for some fuckin' guy."

You froze, confused for a second, before realising he still had no idea, and that guilt you had shoved away creeped back in.

Your heart was in your throat as you finally told him the truth, "It is, but he's you Buck. It was always you, it's always been you."

His lips parted, eyes widening slightly at what you had just confessed to him, "I'm the guy you were asking me advice about?"

"Well yeah, who else am I gonna get better advice about what you like from? Better to hear it from the horses mouth, eh?" You smiled sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders as you watched him huff a laugh with a shake of his head.

"Natasha, right?" He asked, raising an eyebrow but you didn't respond, probably looking very guilty of his accusation, "Well, I guess I should tell you that we may have been two-timed by her. She actually gave me the very same advice a few months ago, I just never had the guts to take it as far as you did."

"You talk to Nat about me?" You teased, but he only smiled gently, soft eyes watching you.

"Of course I do, how could I not tell her all about the girl I've been in love with since I was 15." He confessed quietly, blush reddening his cheeks, "God, she must be sick of me talking about you."

You laughed quietly, trying not to settle into the disbelief of it all and instead focus on your excitement, that teenage girl inside of you was screaming with glee and kicking her feet. You didn't let realisation that James Barnes just confessed he'd loved you the whole time you'd loved him be tainted with regret about wasted time.

"She must be sick of us both, I've been doing the same thing ever since I met her."

He smiled at you and you smiled back, pressed your forehead against his.

"What do we do now?" You asked, still very much feeling the physical after-effects of your intense make-out session.

Bucky huffed a laugh, "I'd love to say go to the bedroom, but not yet, I think we should work up to that."

You nodded and smiled, understanding what he meant and feeling thankful he was able to voice it for you, "Agreed."

"We could do this for a while longer though, still got four and a half twilight movies left to go." Bucky joked, his fingers finding their way under your shirt to brush against soft skin.

"Hm, sounds like an excuse to make out with your best friend all night."

"Maybe it is." He whispered back before he kissed you again, using his hand on your back to press you against him.

It felt so natural to the both of you, your bodies fitting together perfectly, no awkwardness or anxiety. You knew you'd both need to talk properly soon, but that could wait a few movies more, for now you could settle with kissing him until you ran out of air.

[alwaysshallow]

gorgeous, part 4

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

You decide to have some fun; you also talk to old friends. (3,3k)

READ ON AO3

previous part || next part

It's surprising how many times you see him, actually.

It's surprising because you thought – if you're lucky – it's gonna be after six months, on a check-up visit. Technically, he had no business to be here, especially considering how hidden he was, how he wasn't the type to chit-chat. It was okay, you didn't mind it.

And the day after he texted you, when you close clinic, you could see him right in front of the building, his hands in pockets, looking straight at you. It was a hypnotising experience though, especially when you walked in his direction, your knees like marshmellows, and he was still looking.

"Your mechanic was pretty nice." you said, tilting your head. "He said it's gonna be done in two weeks or less since he has work to do."

"Mhm." he matched your pace, walking with you side by side. "Finally doing something with it, aren't we?" he raised his eyebrow.

You laughed. "You make me look like I'm a bad car owner."

"Am I? Or that's just your thoughts?"

His comment made you open your mouth in pure disbelief at his honesty – you nudged him with before realizing how he could react at that gesture. He wasn't exactly a touchy-feely person, but there was no comment from him, so you were glad.

"Mean." you murmured, amused.

"'st speaking my mind, Addison."

"Uh-huh. That's why you're here? To speak your mind?"

He sighed, his eyes on the road in front of you. "You really like asking questions, don't you?"

"I like knowing things. Don't you?" you mimicked his low tone.

"I like knowing things. But I don't ask questions if I'm certain." he answered, straightening his back; a cracking sound that came out automatically made you shiver. "It's just walking you home. 's all, as I said, Sparkles would hate to have another vet."

"Right. Safety reasons, yeah?"

"Good girl. Learning so fast."

Motherfucker knew how to get to you – just after this comment, you had absolutely nothing to say, which made him visibly amused; his brow cocked, and he let out a low chuckle, looking away from you again. Thankful for the darkness, you just walked with him to start another topic after a while – about his cat, of course.

You had to leave 'good girl' behind, to not provoke him to say more because he could easily find out that nickname works for you perfectly. Especially if someone is British, especially if someone is just alluring as him.

And he had blonde hair. A bit curly. That's literally the recipe for a disaster.

After that interaction, he was walking you off to your apartment, day by day. It wasn't surprising after three first times – you just knew he's gonna be here, but you caught yourself looking for him, interested.

Not like you cared – at least that's what you told yourself – but it was curiosity speaking since you knew he was doing that just because of your car. Just because he somehow cared, just because he wanted to know you're safe.

Cute.

What was less cute though, you had to talk with Celia. You just had to and there was no excuse since your car already was in another mechanic's garage. And, Simon knew that you needed to talk with her, so he would ask about it eventually, so dodging the situation wasn't a plan, no. Not when he'd laugh the shit out of you, he did enough with implying you're not taking proper care of your car.

He had a point, though.

You took a few hours off in the morning, leaving Bernie on her own, just to see Celia – you even had your guilt cookies, big jar in your purse. It's not a surprise for anyone who knows you that you bake when stressed, and you certainly were stressed before this meeting. She could tell you anything; and it wouldn't be such a surprise if she'd tell you to go to hell.

A hope was there, though. Not only Simon said it, but when you thought it, it would be a real shame to ruin a friendship, running ten years, just because of a toxic guy that wasn't worth it. Not only that, your best friend had all the right to say I told you so.

You knew you kinda deserved that for being such a blind bitch.

Knock to her door came after a minute of staring dumbily at them, like it would help in something, or if she would magically open it without you knocking. It was a quiet knock though; shy one because, truthfully, you wanted to sprint from her house as far as possible. Confrontation? Not your best quality, no. Not at least in situation like these, when you know you have to apologize from the bottom of your heart.

A minute passed, and you knocked again, louder this time. You started considering walking away you thought maybe she wasn't home, but right after that, no one but Celia opened the door. Her eyebrows furrowed, arms were crossed against her chest, and you immediately knew what her attiude is.

Jesus Christ, it couldn't be easy, could it?

"Hi, Celia. Got a minute?" you asked; hesitantly. She could slam her door in your face, after all.

"Depends. You here because of the car?"

You sighed. "I'm here because I want to apologize, actually."

She seemed surprised as you said it; nonetheless, she let you in, leading you to kitchen. It was the main place of talks in her house, you could say that – not living room, not dining room, kitchen. Very big one, pretty, a table with two seats by side, so you sat there with her, clearing your throat. Wondering how to start.

How do you start conversation like that?

You had the simplest words on your mind. "I was a bitch." rolled off your tongue without even thinking. "I still am, though – but I was a bitch to you when I shouldn't have been. You wanted the best for me, and I just... well, I'm not proud of what I did. I should listen, not throw hands at you. It's not how it was supposed to be, it's not how I wanted it to be. Like, I know also that I should apologize way, way earlier, but-"

"Addie, c'mon." redhead interrupted you with a wave of her hand. "We're both bitches, we literally fought like fuckin' kids. Let me ask you one thing, you done?"

"With him?"

"Yeah, with that scumbag."

"Funny. You're the second person who talks of him this way" you mused, remembering this one situation with Simon. "Done, yeah. For five months right now."

Celia was silent for a moment, obviously analyzing the situation she found herself in; then, with a sigh, she looked again at you, her expression unreadable.

"Good to have your ass back on board, sister." she murmured, smiling a bit.

Next thing she did, was hitting your arm with such power that you let out a little 'ow', laughing with her in the same moment.

"Deserved." she pointed at you. "I apologize too, though. I could be better, I could just... well, tell you everything a bit differently. Not so harsh, you were in love with that prick." your friend muttered, rolling her eyes. "Okay, enough of apologies, though. Who said he's a douche, though? That person might be my second best friend."

So, you told her – almost everything, saving little details about his appearance or aura to yourself; Celia was a pretty fan of him, especially his snarkiness and comments. Yet, she was a bit jealous that you had the audacity to bring your car to other mechanic; mostly, she was jealous of the car, not you.

Her baby, as she liked to tell everyone. She picked it out for you from her uncle, repaired it, added some "cool shit" (it's a mystery what cool shit is, you didn't ask though).

Nonetheless, she was more than glad that you managed to find someone who's gonna help you with that, and you came to her purely to fix something between you two.

A friendship that – you promised yourself – would live through everything, no matter what would happen, no matter of circumstances. She was your person, just like Rosalie.

Who, speaking of, left million voice messages on your phone on your way back to clinic, so you considered it the perfect ocassion to listen to them all.

Apart from her excitement on your car situation, she invited you to her local bar for... a party. You didn't exactly know what party was about, or if it was just a casual hangout, but you agreed to go. It's been a while since you took a break from clinic and actually spent your night out, not under some blanket, watching movies with a bowl of chips or icecream.

Not like it was bad. Not at all. Sometimes you just needed a... change in your routine.

Rosalie promised to pick you up since your car was still at mechanic's – so, your only task was to look good, but not too good. Bar was something else than club; more casual, but you really wanted to at least flirt a little or to catch an eye on someone, even if your mind was... pretty occupied with certain someone.

Maybe your best friend would bring someone worth your time, yeah? She usually had some ideas and wanted to play as your little matchmaker, so you never knew what was coming.

That being said, you opened your closet.

It was almost embarrasing how many clothes you had that you didn't even wear more than one time; mostly, cocktail dresses for fancy ocassions since your parents insisted on buying something new. People of business, someone would say – always having a whim about their galas and shit like this, it was hard not to hate it, considering that business comes before family, mostly.

Maybe that's why you limited contacts with them, sending them a text or two of what you're doing, how's the clinic going. And, of course, Christmas with them or Thanksgiving was a must if they weren't on some fancy vacations abroad.

With a thought in your mind that you have to go through those dressed, you decided to pick something simple to bar. Black tank-top, a simple baby blue shirt on it (unbuttoned, of course) and a pair of simple jeans worked in your mind, as well as in reality, so you found yourself quickly putting on a pair of sneakers.

Your make up took a little longer; you paid attention to your skin, the perfect eyeliner, a delicate lipgloss bringing out the shape of your lips. Everything had to look effortless, even if it wasn't; your motto, basically.

As promised, Rosalie picked you up; and you've talked with her the whole road, almost two hours to be exact. You haven't seen her for two months straight and even if you were updating her as much as you could in a day, it wasn't even close to your sincere talks. She asked a whole palette of questions; how's your car, how's that Simon who rescued you from jerky ex; she looked a bit amused when topic was on him, but you had no idea why.

"Man that has good ideas is rare" she summed up, chuckling, when you catched her up with Celia situation and told her your car is going to be fine, you just have to pick it up in the next week. "Don't tell him that by any means. His ego wouldn't take it."

"Oh, you have no idea."

Soon enough, you arrived. Bar was cute; not too large, but with big-ass bar table and glass shelves behind it with amount of alcohol that you couldn't count, even if you wanted to. Dim, orange lights just added to the view, and you smiled under your nose instincitvely, happy that you've decided to go there.

Tables weren't occupied as you thought they would be; Rosalie mentioned earlier it's gonna be a private party, but you didn't think that private, considering that you could count like... maybe ten, eleven people. Military men with their significant others, as you saw when you walked up to the barman, ordering a drink for you and your best friend.

You couldn't obviously ignore that someone was discussing with MacTavish near you; seemed like a heated discussion, until they looked right at you.

Guy with a skull mask. Full-ass skull mask like Simon had this one day when you two...

Fuck, could it be him? Maybe he was in unit that wore masks like these, you thought. It would be a strange coincidence, wouldn't it? And, Rosalie for sure would tell you that her comrade is the guy you are talking about sometimes since he adopted a cat, Sparkles, yeah?

Rosa had her significant smirk when she looked at you, and it was all you needed to know, especially when men approached you both.

Trouble in a person, that would be on your best friend.

"He gets a bit shy around strangers. Ain't your fault" Johnny joked, nudging you with his shit-eating grin, as he gave his friend a look.

"Mm, I bet. Good to see you, MacTavish." you murmured, which made "stranger" roll his eyes and grumble something under his nose. "And what's your friends name?" you raised an eyebrow, making eye-contact with those brown eyes you wouldn't forget ever.

"His name-"

"-you know my name, doc." Simon said, interrupting Soap. He took off his mask with one, swift movement, to reveal to you his scarred face and disheveled, blonde hair that you wanted to dip your fingers in so desperately.

To say that Johnny was shocked, was the understatement; he looked at his comrade in shock, opening and closing his lips, like he wasn't exactly sure what to say, considering that he took off his scary mask.

"Didn't know you have friends in military."

"Apparently, we're both full of surprises" you sipped a bit of your margharita, shrugging, like you two meeting here was the most normal situation that could happen.

"You two know each other, no?" Soap meddled in conversation, observing you two. It was obvious that he doesn't really know how you two could met, and honestly, no one could blame him. He was in military, barely going out, and you were a simple vet.

You nodded. "We met, yeah."

"Oh, I'd really want to hear it."

"Simple help. Nothin' too fancy, MacTavish" he pointed out, taking a sip of his alcohol.

Soap's look was piercing in you, though. "Helped him with a cat. Simple, like he said." "Fuckin' cat? Ghost is a cat mom now, eh?" he chuckled, which made Simon roll his eyes.

You wondered if Ghost was something they named them in the field, and if yes, why? After all, everything always was supposed to fit. As Rosalie said to you, even if she couldn't tell you everything (classified, of course) every nickname had a meaning behind it.

Ghost... seemed ambigious. You couldn't put it anywhere.

"Better than you'd be, John. Let's drink, shall we?" you raised your eyebrow, trying to lead the conversation elsewhere; looked like your companion thought the same way.

Rosalie introduced you to rest of the team – they all told you their names, but you were sure as hell that you're not gonna remember that, considering your memory was shit, especially to people that you don't see often. Either way, they were nice; very nice, after a few drinks with them you were pretty sure that your platonic soulmate is Kyle Garrick, who was the best partner in karaoke. And, he was also such a gossiper, finding every ocassion that he could to talk to you about something.

Not military related, though; only "things for civilians" as he giggled to you after fifth shot of tequila, telling you something about a girl that he had eye on. Curiosity piqued in the moment he confessed that she was 'out of reach' for him, and it was no chance that he could get together with her.

Hell, for you "no chance" before even trying was non-existent. You loved to prove people wrong, to make them watch you accomplishing various of things just to rile them up, or to reach your goal.

"Don't say that" you pointed at him. "There's always a chance for something. You won't try, you won't know. That's it."

"It's the same chance, as the chance that Ghost will get any of us to that fancy gala. Non-existent." he groaned, burying dramatically his head in his hands. "And like his driving skills."

"Garrick" he murmured; low, rumbling voice made sergeant straighten a little. "'s enough talkin' of it, yes?"

You chuckled. "What gala? And what, your driving skills are that bad?"

"I have rather..." Simon played with glass filled with alcohol "...complicated relationship with cars, I'd say. I prefer walking."

You raised your eyebrow a little, amused; what does it mean his relationship with cars is complicated? You couldn't help but think, as you nodded your head with faked understanding. It was hard to believe that his ass in military didn't have a driving license, so it only meant that his ability to drive was...

Different, maybe. And for his own safety, as well as yours and anyone on the road, he picked out walking instead of driving. Smart, though.

"That's why you've walked me home."

"Affirmative."

"Walked you home?" Kyle looked at both of you in shock, laughing to himself. "Oh, fuck, man. So many things are happening on leave, ain't it?"

"Gaz." Price shot him a look.

"I can't even-"

"Gaz."

"Fuck, okay" he rolled his eyes, shaking his head to himself. "Just so you know, if Johnny wouldn't be so caught up in Ros, he'd back me up."

Your gaze automatically went to Rosalie, who talked with her bartender friend. Johnny, right next to you, was looking at her with slightly darker eyes, leaning his head against palm of his hand. It was... a view, honestly; friends, but not admitting to something more, even if everyone else saw their bond is beyond simple "best friends".

Something that you considered as cute.

You couldn't help but wish that they will be together soon enough; the way they cared for each other... Hell, probably everyone wanted something like this for themselves, as well as you; something so pure with longing glances that would make you weak in your knees.

A sigh of annoyance came out of you – where the hell you were supposed to find something like this when you spent most of the days in the clinic? Tinder or any portal like this wasn't even an option.

Mostly because you met your crazy ass ex here, but also you wanted to... hell, get past that online dating stage.

Was it too much to ask?

"Another round?" Kyle's voice brought you back to earth; you nodded immediately, standing up from your seat. "Captain, Ghost, you comin'?"

"Mm, no. 'm gonna make a call." Price shook his head. "You go. Another one will be on me."

You looked at Simon.

"I'll pass too." he murmured, coughing. "

"Oh, come on! You have to do one shot with me. Please."

"Addison-"

"Please?" you pleaded, extending an arm to him, so he could grab his hand. "Just one."

Simon sighed. "You're not gonna let it go, eh?"

"No, not really. I owe you for that mechanic, don't I?" you tilted your head, smiling a bit. "Come on. Please. Just one shot. Or one drink, anything, really."

He didn't say anything; just followed you to the bar with boys, while you babbled about your work, when Gaz asked what does exactly vet do, besides controls and all.

And it felt really good to feel Simon's eyes on you the whole time. How he keeps his rich, brown eyes at you, while you tried desperately to keep yourself together, just in case - because after alcohol, you were the touchy-feely version of yourself.

He had some time to learn it.

[kingconia]

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR, CATER DIAMOND, ROOK HUNT AND SILVER WITH READER, WHO IS AN AMAZING HYPNOTIST

Leona Kingscholar. 💛

— I don't think he is a sceptical type, or that he doesn't believe in your abilities, but I do think that he is sure that he has a natural resistance towards all these things;

— Yet, you will need a plenty time to make him agree on trying it out together. Yes, he is sure that this bullshit doesn't work in him, yes, he is still paranoid a little;

— There is nothing he hates more than a possibility to be seen as weak, especially, if it you he talks about. But he can't really go against your wishes... He loves you too much.

•

”Well, well, Leona,” you murmur, gently stroking his smooth cheek. ”What a lovely sight.”

There is definitely something utterly special in a way Leona looks, when he is hypnotized. Unmoving, pupils wide open as he lazily blinks. Absolutely calm, too. A total cat.

”Say, Leona...”

You don't want to bother him too much, actually. Mostly because you agreed on being easy on him, but als due to trusting him enough. But there is still something that bothers you from time to time...

”Do I make you happy?”

The answer is immediate.

”I only need to become the king to be happy...” Your heart almost sinks down, when he continues: ”...Or so I used to think. Then, I met you. And I had never been happier."

His confession is too short, and his voice is very monotonous, almost lifeless. Yet, you smile as wide as you can, glancing at him warmly.

That is all you wanted to know.

Cater Diamond. ❤️

— Oh, Cater is your hyping man! Like, had you seen yourself? He is your biggest fan! And he likes watching you hypnotising other students—it is impressive. He brags about you all the time to others!

— ...But he stubbornly tries to refuse on becoming your client. And at first you didn't mind, but... This particular categorical answer of his is suspicious. So, you decide to push him a little more;

— In the end, Cater gives up. But he asks you not to film him or call anyone else. You wonder why he even thought you will.

•

”So, Cay-Cay,” you start, circling around Cater, hands on your hips, ”what is it that you afraid of telling me?”

You understand that it is not a fair thing to do. But Cater's attitude is, indeed, a strange one. You can't help but be slightly bothered by it.

”...I simply cannot live with understanding that you can realise what a messed up place my head is. I am pretending happy all the time, hoping that it will keep you with me, but it is so tiring. And it hurts sometimes.”

As realisation of his words slowly washes over you, you can't help but frown slightly.

Oh, Cater... Why would he do that?

”My dear,” you murmur, hugging him from the behind. ”I order you to forget everything that happened under hypnosis, when you wake up.”

You curse yourself for noticing earlier how desperately he needed some help, some support. But now, at least, you know what to do next.

Rook Hunt. 💜

— Oh, Rook is obsessing over your talent. ’Mon cher hypnotiseur, you are so amazing! It is magnificent!’ Rook is basically radiating with excitement when he sees you in the work process;

— And, of course, he asks to put him in hypnosis instantly. He is surprised, when you decline, saying that you are afraid to say something wrong to him, or to overstep your boundaries;

— He spends another week proving you that he needs to be put in hypnosis. Rook practically begs you for it. And you are too tired to disagree...

•

”Funny how it is the first time I see you so calm,” you huff, gently smoothing his hair down. ”Very well, Rook...”

Truth to be told, despite his a certain secrets Rook hols, he is very genuine with people and his intentions towards them. So, you don't see a need to ask if he really meant what he said to. Instead, you decide to go with question about something from his past...

”I saw your photos from the first year. When you were at Savanaclaw, you know? And you had this amazing long hair... So, I wonder, what happened to them? Why did you change your hairstyle? And what made you choose this one?”

”My hairstyle was changed by the will of Vil, of course,” you almost flinch from how unusual it is; to her Rook speaking so voidly. ”As I became the Pomefiore student, he insisted on making my hair. He assured me that he had an experience—and, of course, I trusted him. Yet, the original idea of the hair he kept in mind for me, had nothing to do with this hairstyle. Vil admitted that he was lying. It was his first time cutting someone's hair. He was very embarrassed, but I accepted his gift avec plaisir.”

As he finishes, your laughter fills the room. Oh, now you are doing to annoy Vil by mentioning this story so much.

Silver Vanrouge. 💚

— This boy had seen too much things in the Valley of Thorns to be surprised by your talent, but, he still thinks it is impressive that you can do things like that;

— Easily agrees on your propose to put him in hypnosis as well. He is quite chill about it, and even mentions that you has his permission on everything;

— But you still take additional permission from Lilia to do that...

•

”Damn, you are so cute,” you pinch his cheeks affectionately, smooching him on the forehead. Not like you can't do it, when he is in normal state, but... ”Hm... How you started calling Lilia ’father’?

Silver looks so drowsy, even while being hypnotized, that you can't help but hug him, allowing to rest against you peacefully.

”I don't have memories of that exact moment. I was a child. But according to father and Malleus, my first word was ”father”. As I said that, I was tugging Lilia's ponytail. Malleus says father bursted in tears, when he heard me calling him like that for the first time, but father doesn't comment it.”

Oh.

Your lips curl in a gentle smile. How charming.

”That's so sweet...” You ponder a little, before ordering him something else. ”Kiss me on the cheek. And after that, you will wake up.”

As you feel his lips softly touching your skin, you hum approvingly.

What a wonderful idea of the date...

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Top 5

Scientist/engineer unknowingly answers a job wanted ad to build a super weapon or whatever, and rather than be scared off once they are told what the machine is, they just keep building because $200 is $200

Two hundred is two hundred

So it turns out getting certain people to build a machine that will be used in their downfall is actually easier than the rogue thought. After all... two hundred dollars is two hundred dollars.

The Riddler: "I just told you that I want you to build me a machine that will rob half the city of necessary resources and you're...going to do it? Just like that?" He looked at you skeptically. "Make it six hundred and I'll have it done in a week." You countered. That was nothing but the Riddler was still perplexed. Sure the lowest of the low stayed in Gotham but surely it couldn't be this easy. "Actually no, give me two thousand and within two weeks I will have two built of each half of Gotham if you desire and you're buying my silence. No questions asked." "Done!" The Riddler said quickly and you grinned.

Scarecrow: "So you want me to double this toxin stuff for two hundred dollars?" You scrutinised the recipe for Gotham's torment. You nodded with a shrug. "Sure. I'm going to need to do it in my off time though, you know, so there's no questions." "Very well." Scarecrow said. He didn't remark on your willingness. He was very aware of the power an extra two hundred dollars could have, especially on the likes of those in Gotham. He decided to not question further in case you'd change your mind.

Two-Face: You inspected the guns. "Yeah, the installments are possible. They shouldn't be difficult at all actually. I can do it for two hundred." He nodded "Deal." "Just don't tell me what you plan to use them for yeah?" "Perfect." His replied, his voice lower. "So you want scopes, thermal and laser?" You said as you took note of the adjustments. "You got it." His gravelly voice spoke again. You nodded. "Alright, I'll have these by the end of the week." "If you tell anyone, I'll find out." He warned. "Tell them what? A guy came in asking for his gun to be altered and paid me for it? That's hardly illegal here. I don't know what you're doing with it. Keep it that way."

Black Mask: "So you basically want a torture device? A big one." You eyed the paper in your hands. "Yup." You couldn't see his face behind the mask but his voice made it apparent that he took pleasure in the thought. Two hundred was definitely not enough but considering Roman freaking Sionis was the one who was asking, you were lucky he was offering anything nevermind asking. "Okay. You got it. Do you want it by a specific date? Obviously I'll be keeping this project rather discreet to be sure of no wandering eyes. "I want it by the end of the month." Roman replied. "Keep your mouth shut and I won't use you as a tester before being rid of you." You nodded, fearful. "Understood."

Mad Hatter: It was rather unexpected that he didn't have to hypnotise you. Something he was prepared to do if you refused his offer. "So to be clear, you want ten of these devices?" "Yes! Yes! I'll handle the rest from there" Jervis smiled at the idea of the hats he'd make. They were only testers but Jervis nearly trembled with the excitement. You nodded. "Alright. I should have these done by the end of the month." You replied. "Thank you kindly for your services." Jervis smiled.

[sessa23]

Revelations: Part 1 (thirteenth doctor x Dhawan!master x reader)

(Summary: it has been a week since the events of spyfall, you and the rest of the Doctor's companions are dropped off in Sheffield while the doctor seeks some answers but while she's off world seeking answers, the master comes to you with questions of his own.)

TW: Yelling, non consensual hypnotism/mass hypnosis,threatening behaviour

(Author's note: sorry guys 13 is not mentioned much in this part but next part she will be. Also I will advise that I still am currently working on other fics and will post when each part is done :) Anyway I hope you all enjoy this.)

A week had passed since the master's attempt to destroy the human race, you were in your university lecture room teaching a class. The Doctor said she needed to go and find some answers, alone and so you all decided to stay in Sheffield while she did this. You enjoyed your work, you walked and stood infront of your desk " today we will be discussing the House of Romanov, who can tell me the year that the Romanov's came to power?"

The class was silent until one of the students raised their hand. You indicated for the student to answer "1613" the student stated, nodding as you picked up the whiteboard marker. "That's correct Richard." You replied before you turned your back and walked over to the whiteboard. You then wrote that year on the board. "now when did the Romanov's dynasty come to an end?" suddenly the class went quiet, too quiet. "you're a professor...how adorable." A voice replied you turned and saw the master sitting on a chair in the back of the room, your students were frozen in place.

Your eyes widened as a gasp left your mouth "No! H...How did you escape the kassarvaan dimension?" The Master smiled "that's my secret." He spoke as he stood up. You looked at your students, their eyes glassy as they sat frozen in place. As you placed the whiteboard marker down on your desk, the master walked down towards the front of the room as you discreetly fiddled with your phone which was in your pocket.

"Don't even think about calling for help Y/N or none of these students will make it to their next class." The master had an evil smirk as he pulled the TCE from his jacket pocket.

"Are you mind controlling these students?" You questioned. The Master chuckled "it's not much effort, human minds are so easy to control, to mold. After all i hypnotised the entire country once, a classroom full of university students is nothing."  He came closer to you  "I can even make you do exactly what I want with just a few words." You gulped as his words sent shivers down your spine but you couldn't show fear, you had to think about your student's welfare, you had to at least pretend to not be scared.

"What do you want?" You asked He turned and looked at you "Use my name love, it's rude not to." Taking a deep breath as you spoke again "What do you want, master?" He walked over to a cabinet "I want to know how you figured out everything."

You turned to him "what do you mean?" You asked, he turned to you "how you figured out that I was not who I said I was. How you figured out the purpose of the silver lady and how you worked out that they had been testing humans for centuries."

You sighed "first rule of espionage is don't trust anyone and I've seen plenty of those movies. Also my inner voice said that there was something off about you but I just didn't know what." The master was looking in the cabinet "Your inner voice?" You sighed "my inner voice, my instincts" the master nodded. You put your hand on your hip "yes and it was correct." The master chuckled slightly "what is your inner voice telling you now?"

"That I should be calm, because you're Dangerous." The master turned to you "do you think you're being calm?" You nodded "Im being very calm,concidering that you tried to murder my friends and kill off the entire human race last week."

The Master tapped his fingers on the cabinet, tap. tap. tap. tap, he then looked up at you. You were not doing the same but some of your students were tapping their fingers on their desks. "Why are they doing that?" You asked, the master looked at the students "just some handiwork by my younger self." The master stopped the tapping before he turned to you. "Something about you interests me" the master replied as he looked at you.

You stepped back slightly."Yeah im good with technology, so are alot of people. I'm not special." He looked at you "but you used time lord technology, like it was second nature." He put a finger to his chin. You crossed your arms and glanced at your entranced students before looking back at the master "I've been travelling with the Doctor for a while now and I've watched her use various technologies, it's probably just a case of learning from her."

"You're one of the few humans that i actually like." He whispered, you raised an eyebrow "is that supposed to be a compliment?" The Master went to respond but he looked down at your notebook on your desk "What is that? That symbol...why do you have that symbol in your book?"

You looked down at the page and saw a symbol which you didn't recognise. "That is Seal of Rassilon, from Gallifrey." The master spoke as you quickly shut your book, you looked up at him "I don't know what that symbol is, I think i recall seeing it in the Doctor's TARDIS, I drew it when i was in the TARDIS, now that I think about it."

The master put his hand on the book "You still haven't answered my other questions. How did you figure out the purpose of the silver lady and how did you work out that they had been testing humans for centuries." His questions began to overlap with voices but you didn't know where they were coming from, a sharp pain formed in your head  "I DON'T KNOW!" You yelled suddenly, your eyes widened when you realised that you had raised your voice.

Surprised, he master took his hand off the book "the fact that you don't know, makes you more interesting. I think we'll be seeing more of each other." You were silent for a moment "can you undo what you did to my students?" The Master nodded "they'll be released once I leave." Breathing a sigh of relief, your students would be okay.

"Oh and one more thing love." He trailed before grabbing your chin, forcing you to look at him. Once your eyes met his, you couldn't look away, all other noise faded away, your mind feeling foggy and all you could see were his beautiful brown eyes. "Don't tell the doctor or her pets that you've seen me again. Can't have them knowing I'm back yet." His voice echoing though your mind. You nodded "I won't tell them" Your voice, soft yet monotone.

The master had a smile form on his face "Good, so obedient for your master." Then the let go of your chin and turned away. You blinked as the foggy feeling faded and you came to your senses. "Oh look at the time, I really must go, see you again Y/N." The master pressed a button on his TCE and teleported away

"Professor L/N" a voice called you turned to your students "are you okay?" A student asked you, nodding as you took a breath "yes I'm okay" quickly picking up the whiteboard marker as if everything was normal "Now when did the Romanov dynasty come to an end? Bonus points if anyone can tell me what caused it to come to an end."

Meanwhile the master arrived back in his TARDIS, he leaned on the console his mind flashing back to the events of the week before. The encounter that he just had with you in conjunction with the events of last week made him have an idea, you didn't know why you figured out his plan but he was going to find out.

[phynoma]

HALLOWEEN COUNTDOWN

As a countdown to Halloween, I'm sharing the original statements I wrote for the Consuming AU! (<<click for ao3 link) The statements function as horror shorts that work on their own

Statement 4: The Collector

CW: lab tests using foetal tissue, family pressure, transmasc pregnancy scare, unwanted pregnancy, distortion-typical gaslighting, familial trauma, pseudocyesis with supernatural elements, dysphoria

Character Notes:

Kevin Park is transmasculine and nonbinary. He uses he/it pronouns. His voice starts out nervous and a bit fussy, not particularly high class. When he's alone with prey, his voice grows deeper and more full, with a background like a cape whipping/unfurling–a sort of Dracula-esque darkness that it can reveal at will. Think stingrays, hypnotising cuttlefish, cloaked figures, Audrey 2

KEVIN

I suppose you should know that I never wanted children.

Even as a young child, I found the idea of playing "house" abhorrent. I enjoyed being the only child in my family, doted upon by my parents, and I had no inclination to gift that devotion to anyone else.

By all accounts, I was a dutiful child. My mother, especially, had great hopes to see me as an independent business woman in some kind of scientific field– engineering, or surgery, or tech– who would nonetheless settle down with another independently successful man and start a family. I succeeded only on two counts: I became a biologist, and I was successful.

If I had hoped that these examples of success would be enough for her to overlook my notable failures– namely, that I forsook being her daughter, and showed no interest in a family of my own– I was disappointed. The latter was worse, in her eyes, than the former. I think she would have approached my transition with a sort of grudging acceptance if I had at least settled down with a partner with whom I could produce her grandchildren.

Instead, I did the next best thing: I began working in a lab that researched genetic anomalies in foetuses. It gave me enough of an excuse to combat her questions over family dinners about why I didn't want children, when saying "I simply don't want them" wasn't enough.

At first, the conversations were few and far between. She might ask me if I’d started seeing anyone, and I’d find out one of her friends had become a grandmother. Or, she’d make a subtle comment after seeing a celebrity pregnancy announcement.

As I entered my early thirties, however, the conversations became more frequent and more pointed. My father stayed out of the ensuing arguments, but I could see the reproach in his eyes. I doubt he cared about my choices, except that I was upsetting my mother.

I began avoiding both of my parents when I could. I'll remind you that I was an only child, and uncommonly close with my parents. Since college I had made a number of acquaintances but no real friends, and I still rented a room in my parents' terrace house. I was somewhat isolated, but content that way. I went to work, did my tests, got an occasional drink with my coworkers, picked up groceries, and went home. This repeated every day, week after week, without change.

But I was excited to be in the lab. I was at the Ferral Biological Research Institute at the time, in their immunology department. We used foetal tissue, you know, donated, to grow viruses and test vaccines.

On a day like any other– maybe I was a bit tired from a late night, but nothing unusual– I found myself just… staring into my petri dish. I looked at this little sliver of tissue that wasn't anything, just some cells, and knew that my mother wanted me to be a living incubator for this sort of thing. I mean, it's nothing like what people plastered all over their posters when they picketed outside the lab. I stared, and stared, and for a moment it seemed like all the saturation left the room and swirled down into that dish.

I stood over it in my PPE, frozen, my hand locked in place. I watched the thing shiver, and expand. Multiply. It still was nothing, a piece of tissue, but it was growing. I felt like it was…reaching for me. Like it wanted to slither inside of me, to turn my temperature to its liking, to bite its way into my flesh and suck its sustenance, its substance, from me.

And then… it was gone. Just gone. I blinked, and I didn’t have a dish, or a pipette, or anything. It was like I’d walked to my table and just… hadn’t prepared anything. I looked for it, of course. But it was gone. Thought I was going mad, but, well. Let’s just say I blamed it on insomnia and moved on. Unnerved, yes. But by the time I got home that night, I was mostly concerned with avoiding my parents and having a peaceful night in.

It's important to note that I didn't go out at all between the weeks of October 9th and 25th–but it was six weeks after that that my symptoms began.

It was subtle, at first. Stomachache, loss of appetite. Chills. I thought, (mirthless laugh) for a while, that I was coming down with the flu. Stayed away from the lab; and when my symptoms cleared up enough not to be a danger to our work, went back.

When the dizzy spells started, I thought it might be overwork, or side effects from the new dosage of T I was trialling. I checked in with my GP, but my bloodwork came back fine.

I started to see things, from the corner of my eye. Faces. They were gaunt and hungry, and their eyes were the dull grey colour of hospital curtains. Women started to come up to me in grocery stores. They’d take my hands, or put their hand on my shoulder, and they would just…look at me knowingly, pityingly, and then simply walk away again. The sound of babies crying started to echo in my head like a siren– I went back to my GP for that, thinking I had tinnitus.

My ankles swelled until I was hobbling. I had to put in a request at the lab for a chair so I could continue my work. My coworkers, when we went out, stopped ordering drinks for me. When I asked why, they didn’t seem to know. I became so ill in the afternoons that I went back to my GP again, and for the first time I looked at the box marked Are you pregnant? and I wondered.

But of course I wasn’t. I couldn’t be. I had never been with anyone for it to be medically possible. I’d had a girlfriend, for a bit, but it hadn’t gone anywhere and we’d broken up months back. But I felt this weight inside of me, something wrong, and I thought of the wriggling thing I’d seen in my petri dish, and I bought a test.

It was negative, of course it was negative. But I started testing weekly after that. Then daily.

A woman with a child in each arm came up to me while I was smoking in the park and told me “congratulations.” I gained weight. Every day I stared at myself in the mirror as I brushed my teeth– at the stubble that I couldn’t get to grow into an even beard, the circles under my eyes– and I wondered what people were seeing when they looked at me.

Months went by. The illness never went away. I began craving odd things, nonsensical things. Marmite on pickles. Parsnips dipped in ice cream. My lab notes. The condensation on the inside of my coworker’s safety goggles when they hadn’t affixed them properly.

One day, I walked in on my mother knitting a baby onesie. It was pink on one side and blue on the other. I asked her who it was for, and she just giggled to herself and started singing an old nursery rhyme. Her face was pale, and gaunt.

I went to specialists, but nothing could explain the weight gain, or the sleeplessness, or the dizzy spells, or the cravings. Nothing could explain the way I felt trapped, more and more, inside a body which had only recently begun to feel like home. Hormonal adjustments, sleep studies. Nothing worked.

The pregnancy tests I was now taking daily didn’t have lines. Instead, they formed twisting, pink patterns that hurt my head to look at and made the dizziness worse. I kept taking them.

At work, things were tense. I kept to myself even more than I had before, but there were anxious rumours going around. Samples were disappearing. The security cameras didn’t show anyone breaking in, which meant it was someone inside the lab. But there was no evidence of anyone bringing samples out, either. If the culprit wasn’t found, our funding could be cut, and a costly investigation launched.

In the unisex bathroom, on breaks, I began methodically tearing toilet paper into one cm strips and eating it as my lunch.

My skin felt too tight, most days. I’d lost all the weight I’d gained, then gained it back. People still came up to me in the market, with their unasked for and unwarranted touches, their gentle, knowing concern. I discovered that if I smiled at them, their bodies would seem to lock in place, like mine had at the lab. It was easy enough to move them out of the way and continue on with my business.

My mother unravelled the knitted onesie and re-knitted it half a dozen times. She never moved from her chair, now. The fibres of baby-soft cotton were stained the blood of her rope-burned and blistered fingers. My father sat in his place at the head of the kitchen table and watched me come in and out of the house with dull eyes.

“I’m proud of you, son,” he’d say if I’d approached with the day’s groceries. His gaze never left my left shoulder. He’d nod and repeat his phrase, his eyes bloodshot. “You’re making your old man proud. I’m proud of you, son.”

Seven and a half months after I started noticing my symptoms, everyone was fired from the Ferral Biological Research Institute, pending investigation. In one of the supply closets, they’d found every single one of the missing samples from the lab. There was never an official report, but we heard the rumours.

The supply closet had been one that had been rarely accessed, and no one could remember going there in the last nine months. The shelves were all arranged with the stolen samples in test tubes. They were meticulously labelled, named and dated but the names were things like “ego death” and “cassandra” and “haphephobia,” and the dates were the birthdates of every employee in the building.

There were hundreds. In each tube was a tiny, doll-sized piece of a human person–a heart, a minuscule hand and forearm, a liver, a clump of hair–impossibly crafted of human tissue. The more you looked at them, the more you doubted your first assessment of the contents; and yet, the more you became certain that they were alive. Waiting. Hungry for a host. Waiting to slip inside a perfect incubator and spawn and hundred thousand more tiny, maddening lies.

My symptoms disappeared shortly after I began working at Lars Grisham Labs. Some of their samples go missing, on occasion. But more often than not, I prefer live subjects, now. And I’m always looking for new places to store my collections.

ARCHIVIST

…Statement ends.

[Breathes steadily for a few moments]

ARCHIVIST (CONT.)

(soft) Thank you.

***

If you want to read more from this AU, you can find it here!

Post 1 | Post 2 | Post 3

[radishpanda]

It's actually so scary how ingrained female socialisation is. This week when I was waiting for the bus a man came up to me and started talking to me, even tho I had both earbuds in. I thought he needed help with something so I took them out but apparently he just wanted to talk while waiting for a friend.

I didn't want to but I did so anyway, I answered his questions and was nice and polite even tho I didn't wanna talk. It felt like I was hypnotised to be nice to him. When he walked away, I came back to my senses and realised how weird that was. It felt so strange, like I wasn't myself.

Does anyone else have this? Where if a man catches you off guard and talk to you, you immediately go to friendly and polite mode even when you don't want to?

[oro-e-diamanti]

The one with Ethan’s suggestion

Description | Ethan suggests something that you had never seen coming - but for how long will you be able to resist him?

Content | smut with a bit of fluff

Pairing | Ethan x fem!Reader

Word Count | 3138

Tagging | @ginny-lily @mywritingonlyfans

***

"You did not just ask me that."

Ethan didn't even seem bothered by your shocked reaction. Instead, he simply kept looking at you, waiting, as if he had posed a completely normal question. You were certain it wasn’t though - who the hell just came out and asked one of their best friends to start hooking up? Surely this wasn’t just you thinking this was more than odd. You couldn’t stop looking at him, relaxing on a lounger in the sun, book still open in his hand, and how he didn’t seem to care.

“Oh, come one, Y/n,” Vic interjected from where she was relaxing on a pool float. “Poor Ethan hasn’t been with anyone since the pandemic started. The least you can do is help him get laid.”

“Get laid by me?!”

“Who else?” Victoria laughed. “It’s not like he can go out and pick up someone when we go on a promo tour in a week. We’re barely allowed to meet anyone as a safety measure.”

You shot her a pointed look and Victoria being your friend for the longest got it immediately.

“And no, I’m not gonna hook up with him. So it’s gotta be you.”

You couldn’t believe the conversation you were having. Had everyone simply gone crazy? Surely, Thomas wouldn’t be on their side in this, right? You watched as he lazily strolled towards your loungers, cigarette in hand.

“Thomas!” You shouted over at him. “Ethan wants me to hook up with him!”

“Fucking finally,” Thomas laughed as you stared back in horror. Was everyone in on this madness? “He’s been moping around for ages. About time he gets laid and relaxes.”

“See?” Ethan interjected. “Everyone thinks it’s a good idea.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea!”

“Fine,” Ethan shrugged. You hated how much he didn’t seem to care - how he had posed a question like that without an ounce of awkwardness and how your rejection didn’t seem to faze him in the least. You knew he was open about sex and sexuality, you’d been part of countless conversations among the band and had seen him pick up people at parties more than once, but this unnerved you. "If you change your mind, I'm available."

And with that Ethan went back to his book, Victoria went back to floating around the pool and Thomas went back to smoking his cigarette. But you weren't going to go back to anything, because whether you liked it or not, Ethan's suggestion would continue playing in your head for the unforeseeable future.

***

Three days. It had been three days since that fateful day at the pool and you could barely stand to look at Ethan. It wasn't because you were embarrassed - you all spoke about such things quite openly - nor were you angry at him having asked in the first place - if anything, it was flattering, a man such as Ethan considering you attractive in that way. It was more of a constant thought in your head whenever you were in the same room with him or he talked to you or you looked at him or he so much as popped into your mind. You kept lying awake at night, intrusive thoughts of Ethan towering over you clouding your brain. You didn't know what it was but you knew you didn't like it.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as Victoria approached you, taking a couple of tomatoes you had spread in front of you and started cutting them up. You had been in charge of making dinner most days, with one or the other coming to join you in your cooking endeavors sooner or later. Today it seemed to be Vic, who was giggling away beside you, quite obviously dying to tell you something.

"And what is up with you?" You asked, a smirk on your face. You were happy your friend seemed so giddy and it had you itching to know why.

"I have a date!" Victoria was never one to keep things like these to herself for long - whenever she was positively excited about something, the world simply had to know. "Her name's Paula, she's on holiday here and we're going to go out for wine."

"Just wine?"

"Well, I'm gonna say, don't expect me back here tonight." She couldn't stop herself from smirking and then breaking out in another round of laughter and you joined freely. Good for her.

"I miss dates," you mused. "Or maybe - I don't know. Maybe I just miss at least staying the night with someone."

"You really need to get laid, babe."

"Who needs to get laid?" Damiano had appeared without warning, sneaking up on the two of you and pinching both of your waists teasingly before hopping on the counter next to where you were working. A slice of tomato was stolen and ended up in his mouth before you could react, only hitting him in the arm when it was much too late.

"Y/n," Victoria answered nonchalantly. You stared at her in annoyance but she didn't even catch your eye.

"So does Ethan! You guys should fuck."

"Not you too," you groaned. All of this seemed like a bad joke. In fact, you were starting to wonder if this was all some weird plot your friends had to get you to sleep with Ethan. But why would they?

"Huh?" Damiano sounded surprised but you didn't put it past him to simply put on a good act.

"Ethan asked her to hook up the other day."

"No way!" Damiano exclaimed. "He actually, fina- I mean, he actually asked you that?"

"Yup, and she shot him down," Victoria explained. You were getting more annoyed by the second. Especially because it felt like your love life (or lack thereof?) was being discussed without you. Plus, you couldn't shake the feeling they knew something you didn't.

"Aw, poor Ethan. You know, you should really give him the chance. Make the most of the fact that you've both got the house to yourselves tonight." Damiano's eyebrow wiggle earned him a tomato slice to the face due to pure irritation on your side. He wasn't bothered, quickly shoving it into his mouth and happily munching away on it.

"Wait, what do you mean? Where are you going?"

You sounded much more panicked than necessary. So what if you were alone in the house with Ethan? You'd survive. Easily. You'd read a bit of your book, maybe watch a movie, go to bed. You didn't even have to spend time with him. Right?

"Going out with my girlfriend, she's in town for work. Not sure where Thomas is off to but he's already left" Damiano shrugged, finally hopping off the counter to hopefully stop being in the way. "So, if there's anything you want to do, do it tonight."

***

So this was it. You were alone with Ethan. No, this was nothing. So what if you were alone with him? Not like it was going to change anything at all.

You had said your goodbyes for the night to the two lovebirds, wishing Victoria the most possible fun on her little date, before pouring yourself a glass of wine and retreating to the patio. You had no idea where Ethan was and you didn't mind.

The sun was setting, the temperature was more than bearable and you had your book lying next to you. Eyes closed trying to enjoy the last rays of sunshine, your hand grasped the stem of the wine glass, and fuck that moth scared the living daylights out of you. And caused you to spill your wine all over your blouse. Red wine. Crap. One was supposed to wash those out immediately, right? Right? You realised you had no idea, as you sprinted towards the upstairs bathroom, already unbuttoning for fast removal.

You threw the door open, feet set to move towards the basin, when you realised you weren't alone in the room. It happened in slow motion, as much as you hated the cliché of it all.

Ethan's back was towards you, strong, hard muscles visible under an array of water droplets that were slowly, slowly making their way downwards, hypnotising you and keeping your gaze locked on them. Your eyes were still travelling lower and lower when he noticed your presence, turning around out of reflex, and you could not help but notice he was not wrapped in a towel, nowhere close, when your eyes fell on-

Oh.

Oh.

In a rare moment of clarity, you tore your gaze away, looking up at his face instead, just to find him eyeing up your cleavage. Your blouse was halfway undone, putting your white lace bra on full display. Then his eyes snapped away and looked into yours instead. For a second, it felt like the world was standing still. Your brain only worked for another moment before it decided to let your body - or potentially your heart? - take over.

You told yourself 'fuck it' - or maybe you said it out loud, judging by the sudden smirk appearing on Ethan's face - and reached for the man in front of you. He reciprocated without hesitation, pulling you in and meeting your mouth with his, as he walked you backward until you hit the wall. His body felt hot against yours, providing a stark contrast to the cold tiles pressing into you. His hands cradled your face softly, fingers stroking along your cheeks, while he kissed you, open-mouthed, in a way that left you breathless.

If you had ever had doubts that sex with Ethan would not be worth it, they had evaporated into thin air altogether.

His hands had started roaming your body, finally landing on the last buttons of your blouse. You had expected him to slowly open them up, but instead, he tore the fabric apart in one swift movement, buttons flying and hitting the ground with little clacking noises. You wrecked your mouth from him for a moment, staring at him in both surprise and awe.

"Spiacente," he murmured, although he didn't look all that sorry. "I couldn't help myself. I can get them sewn back-"

"Ethan, stop talking and start fucking me."

Your bold words took both of you by surprise but none of you minded, simply relieved that you were on the same page. His hands were now grasping tightly onto your thighs and, and without giving you a warning, he lifted you up, still pressed against the wall. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively and he took a step back, finding his strength and balance, and slowly carrying you into his bedroom.

You couldn't stop staring at him. Ethan's beauty was a sight to behold on any given day, but the way his lips looked kissed after just a short while and his eyes had that kind of shine to them that had never previously been directed at you, it felt like you were looking at something ethereal. Never mind the fact that you knew he was completely naked, not just the toned chest that was pressing into your torse, but everything else. Hell, you were sure you felt a certain something press into the back of your thigh quite shamelessly.

He dropped you on his bed, leaving you to bounce slightly on the mattress as you lied on your back. He looked like he was about to devour you and you just knew you'd bend to his every wish.

Without any further hesitation, Ethan moved onto the bed, immediately grabbing onto the shorts you were wearing and slowly pulling them down your legs. He held eye contact with you the whole time and you were convinced you had never seen anything sexier in your life. Your panties were the next piece to leave your body. Normally, this would be the point you got nervous about, crossing your legs, hiding behind hands, anything to protect what little of your modesty you had left, but this was different. Ethan took all shame away from you.

"Is this okay?" He asked, as he slowly crawled upwards, spreading your legs and leaving hot, wet kisses along your calves. As much as you appreciated him asking for consent, you almost had to laugh - at this point in time, you had lost all willpower to deny him anything. So, with a blissful smile on your face, you eagerly nodded at him, your hand reaching down and tangling itself into his hair. He groaned as you gave a little tug and the sound was more than enough to get you even wetter than you already were.

At least that was what you thought up until Ethan put his mouth on you. You had been expecting a bit more foreplay, maybe his fingers, but instead you felt his tongue lick along the length of you. Your moan loudly echoed through the room and you had never been so glad that Vic, Thomas and Damiano had deserted the two of you in the house.

Your grasp on his hair tightened as he started flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue. The fact that you could feel his hair tickling the inside of your thighs only seemed to make you more sensitive. Suddenly, one of his fingers entered you, quickly to be joined by a second. Your back arched off the bed in an involuntary reaction as your breathing became more and more laboured. You could hear- hell, you could feel him chuckle against you.

With a sharp tug, you pulled his head away from you.

"I'm not going to be able to take much more, Ethan," you confessed. He looked up at you with wide eyes, chin wet from going down on you and fingers still slowly moving in and out, and you momentarily forgot what you meant to say. "So if you wanna fuck me, I suggest you get a move on."

He didn't need to be told twice. You still sighed in disappointment when he actually removed his fingers from you but you were quickly distracted by him moving them to your mouth and slipping them in. You eagerly sucked on them, twirling your tongue around them, tasting your own arousal, and his composure was slipping with every second he looked at you. He quickly pulled his fingers from your mouth to crawl further up your body, his cock moving against your leg. He was so well endowed it would have almost been frightening if you hadn't been so turned on.

Ethan kissed you with a force that was unparalleled. There wasn't even a question about who was in control. As his fingers trailed from your neck down past your collarbones you both suddenly seemed to remember you were still wearing a bra. You made short work of the piece of fabric, carelessly throwing it across the room, and he thanked you by squeezing your soft flesh in the most delicious way. You repaid the favour by letting your hand wander to his cock and giving him a few strokes. He immediately let out the most sinful moan you had ever heard, head collapsing onto your cleavage.

"I don't think you need any more help from me down there," you giggled.

"With you lying under me like this, I sure don't."

Moving your legs around his waist once more, you slowly guided him into you, your walls swallowing him bit by bit, careful not to stretch you out too fast with his size. It felt like heaven on earth. You both moaned in pleasure as Ethan slowly started moving, making sure you were comfortable as he looked into your eyes, while you broke the eye contact time and time again, too overwhelmed to leave your eyes open every time he thrust into you. You kept grabbing onto what you could, the back of his head, his shoulders, his butt, as he increased his speed, hitting you in all the right places every single time.

You knew you weren't going to last long, not with him on and in and all around you, not with his fingers playing with your nipple, not with his lips clumsily attaching themselves to various places around your neck and shoulders, and as you felt his hand between your legs, softly circling your clit once again, you were gone. You came in waves of euphoria, unashamed of the volume of your moans and the strength with which you pulled on his hair. Your actions, combined with you clenching around him and a few more thrust, had him follow you moments later.

He carefully slipped out of you, never once letting go of you, and turning you onto your side with him so you were facing each other. Both of you were still breathing heavily, vision cloudy, but intertwined. You were convinced he had ruined you - there was no way anyone was ever going to live up to how he made you feel.

"So, did it live up to your expectation?" You couldn't help but giggle as you posed the question. "Getting laid again after such a long time?"

Ethan pushed a damp strand of hair from your face. You hadn't expected such softness.

"It wasn't actually about getting laid, you know."

"Huh?"

"It was about you."

"Okay, you've lost me now," you said, brows knitting as your hand searched for his, finger entangling the same way your legs were doing. "What are you talking about?"

"I... I've liked you for a while. And I tried so much, but you never even noticed."

Your mind replayed the last few weeks you had spent with the band in their summer house. Instances of Ethan bringing you food, cocktails, adjusting the shade to make sure you were in it, offering to put sunscreen on your back. Moments of him searching for your company, moving much closer than necessary in the heat, arms constantly touching when you were sitting next to each other. Jokes and teasing from the others, drunken remarks. You hadn't paid attention to any of it. You wondered how you could have been so blind to a man so wonderful.

"Wait, so instead of asking me out like a normal person, you suggested we hook up?" You couldn't keep the laughter in now. The situation was simply too ridiculous and you had not yet stopped riding on your high from the endorphins he had caused.

"It was Vic's idea." He buried his head into the sheets, but you could still see his cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. "She knew I missed sex and she said you mentioned something similar so she thought this was the way into your..."

"Pants?"

"Heart, actually."

You snuggled closer, arms wrapping around him so that your noses were touching.

"Well, as embarrassing as it is, it somehow worked, didn't it?" You stroked over his head lovingly. "And I'm sure not letting you go any time soon."

[buckysdolls]

Redemption Part 4

New Billy Hargrove x OC fanfiction

Posted: 6/04/22

A/N: Lots happens over a week in this chapter. It's not my best writing either but I know where I'm going with this book so please just hang in there.

"Pull the car over" Nicole ordered.

Billy instanty pressed on the break causing a sudden stop, they simultaneously looked at each other, Billy’s smirk was gone, he was serious, wide eyed and conveying a pleading look to Nicole. She was hypnotised by his diamond blue eyes and plump lips as she looked at him he gave her thigh a small squeeze.

Without giving it a second thought their lips crashed onto each others, Billy's hands had moved to cup Nicole's cheeks with affection, he wanted her lips firmly against his. Swiping her bottom lip with his tongue she allowed him to let his tongue explore her as they kissed. It was passionate and to her surprise Billy was careful. The placement of his hands on her cheeks proved that. Her fingers tangled in his dirty blonde hair, occasionally and gently pulling it which would have Billy grunting and kissing her harder. She gathered up the courage as they continued kissing to leap out of her seat and climb ontop of Billy. Billy's touch had moved down to her waist where his hands settled to support her sitting on him. Together they'd built up a rhythm where Nicole was now grinding on him which he encouraged as he helped move her hips at a steady pace. He pulled away, relaxing for a second to watch her grinding on him.

"Fuck" Billy whispered as he watched her in awe. Nicole gradually came to a stop as her adrenaline slowed down. Billy quickly thought about every other girl he'd been in this situation with... non of them shined quite like how she did. She was stunningly effortless and the sudden thought of her being like this with anyone else made him envious. Billy leaned forward and pushed the hair out of Nicole's face so he could look into her eyes, he knew he was display a look of affection of love bevause he was completely enthralled by her every waking moment. Nicole was surprised by her own actions, she had never intended to be sat in Billy's car, making out with him because thay wasnt her usual demeanour.  No way did she ever imagine she would be with the most popular guy in school and though she wanted nothing more to continue she was now like every other girl who had been with Billy and once that thought creeped into her head she didn't feel as special anymore, it felt cheap.

"What am I doing?" Nicole thought out loud as she looked down at Billy, his once pleasurable face had turned confused trying to figure out what Nicole was talking about. She pushed his hand away from her face.

"I shouldn't have done that, I'm so sorry!" Nicole breathed scooting off Billy and falling back into her seat, her head hitting the head rest with force.

"Don't be sorry...you're a pretty good kisser" Billy smirked leaned in to her, trying to egnite a second round.

"I'm sure the thousands of other girls you've been with were better. This was a mistake. I'm not another conquest"

"Ouch... I didnt think you were Nicole" he wasn't used to the notion of a girl feeling regret for being with him...his ego was feeling bruised and what made it even worse was the genuine feelings he had for her.

"Could you please just drive me home Billy?" Nicole let tears slip from eyes as soon as the appeared she wiped them.

"Sure" Billy's response was snappy as he slammed his foot on the gas and shoved the gear to pick up a decent speed. The journey to their houses was silent... they were both equally relieving their encounter in there head as Nicole looked out the passenger window and Billy keeping his eyes on the road.

Pulling up to the Hargrove driveway, there was a quick moment of silence before Billy opened his car door. Nicole had frozen in her seat unsure what to do... she wanted to get out but her legs wouldn't move and as she felt Billy leave the car, slamming his door she jumped. Her door was swung open, Billy had walked round to her side to open it and help her out the car. Leaning on the door to help get out she was inches away from Billy, their proxemics intimate. Her doting eyes made their way up to his, the urge to kiss her was there but he wasn't prepared to push it after her previous comments, he didnt want her to feel cheap. Billy took a step away, creating some space where Nicole could walk down the cobbled path and walk to her home next door. And so she did. Without saying a word to each other she began to walk away, he leaned against his car and pulled out a cigarette to destress. He watched her walk away calmly till she reached her own front door. The voice in her head told her not to look over but of course she had to...she had to know was he looking her way? Of course he was. All she could do was clutch her jacket over her chest, give him a coy smile, open her front door and step inside.

Two days. Two days passed since Nicole and Billy's encounter... had Nicole been avoiding Billy for those two days? Absolutely! She couldn't quite understand what made Billy so special that warranted her actions that night. Plenty of boys had tried to ask her out before but she never felt the need for a boyfriend...she was happy being independent and non reliant on a man...so what made him so special? Her feelings were genuine...she liked Billy...but she was embarrassed, all she was going to be was another stroke on his tally because there was no way he could feel the same.

She tied her scrunchie in and then headed for her window. Two days. No 8pm stare downs like usual, two days her curtains had been closed for. Gripping the cloth she pulled them apart...it had to be fate because there he stood leaning against the open door of his car, looking up at her. She'd expected him to smirk (the Hargrove smirk) it was now knows as...it was that popular, but he stared back at her longingly. Billy conflicted by his own thoughts couldn't understand his emotions. Making out with a girl was usually enough for him, used goods, move on. But Nicole was different, she was intelligent and independent. As he saw her stood there he admired tiny details about her, the stray away hairs from her do, the gloss on her lips which he hadn't stopped thinking about since their kiss and the dimples in her cheeks as she gave him a small courteous smile. 

Nicole rushed down the stairs that led to her front door, she observed her father who rustled the curls of her brothers hair before approaching her.

"Good morning pickle" he greeted kissing her forehead. Her laugh was wholesome as she adored her dad's pets names.

"I know when there is something wrong with my princess. You've hardly been downstairs the past two days." Nicole was considered lucky, she had the all American family... two loving parents, caring and hard working. An annoying younger brother who she would walk to the ends of the earth for to protect him. Theu did everything in their power to make sure she had the foundations to a successful life and she was greatful.

"Is it that time of the-" He placed his hands on her shoulder, she copied his actions in sarcasm.

'Ew! Dad, stop! I'm fine" Nicole hushed her father with a chuckle.

"Okay, well have a good day chick" As he opened the door for her to make haste they were greeting by the charming smile of Billy, who stood on their doorstep.

"Mr Taylor...Nicole" He spoke, without hesitation Nicole gave Billy a shove so she could leave her house and close the door behind her. Nicole made her way down the garden path with Billy got on her heels.

'You know if I didn't know any different I'd say you're avoiding me" Billy said causing Nicole to stop at the end of her path, Billy stood in front of her.

"Nope, just been busy. You know... spring cleaning" Nicole kept it blunt and awkward. Billy chuckled and lit a cigarette.

"Spring cleaning huh?"

"Yep." Nicole looked down the road in both directions hoping for her lift to arrive to save her from Billy. The door from her house opened and her mum emerged taking out the trash.

"Good morning Mrs Taylor!?" Billy called out with a wave.

"Hi Billy!" A cheerful Mrs Taylor replied.

"Taking out the last of the spring cleaning?" Billy asked, he wasn't oblivious to Nicole's bullshit. Miss Taylor chuckled.

"Spring cleaning? In June? You're funny Billy"

Billy's attention turned back to Nicole, who was kicked the stones beneath her feet.

"Spring cleaning?"

Nicole rolled her eyes and folded her arms with a big sigh.

"I just want to pretend like it didn't happen"

"Like what happened?" Billy puffed smoke into Nicole's face, he was trying to lighten the mood.

"Us kissing in your car..." she stopped when she released what she was saying.

'I thought you wanted to forget?"

"You're such a jerk sometimes. Why are you up and down all the time?" Billy jerked his head to the side and smirked as Nicole furrowed her brows.

"Me?! Up and down? You're act like you're into me one minute and then the next I'm not good enough for you. Since you, I have pushed away girl after girl to prove to you I'm not what they say I am. But you have your perfect little life that men like me don't fit into and you're so passive aggressive about everything and defensive. Well screw it. Its bullshit"

"This is exactly what I mean... and I never once asked you to stop being a manwhore" Nicole sniggered waving her hand up an down. Steve's car had pulled up outside and all Nicole could think was thank god. Billy looked Nicole up and down before flicking his cigarette in the direction of Steve's car. Clutching her books, Nicole felt sadness wash over her... was she really passive aggressive? Billy shook his head in disbelif, he was usually the one plying the game... not the one being played. He straightend his denim jacket and locked eyes with Nicole.

"Just another conquest to add my list right?" he mocked her, as he left Nicole standing alone he shared a look of disdain with Steve before making off in his own car. As Nicole walked down the hallway of Hawkins High people gawked as she walked past them and they'd whisper about her not to her. In this moment she felt so small and embarrassed to be the talk of the girls gossip. As she approached her locker she listened intently to two girls and boy clearly whispering at a volume so that she could hear.

"I heard she was begging him to make her cum"

"I heard she was riding him like a rabid animal"

"Wouldn't blame him though she is hot"

"Well now she's just another Hawkins slut"

Her breath hitched as she slammed her locker shut after what she heard. She couldn't believe Billy could be so cruel to do this to her, she'd never felt so dirty or disrespected in her life than right now.

"Nicole" the familiar voice of Nancy soothed her a little but she was still in shock that she didn't turn to face her or say anything... she couldn't.

"Nicole, what people are saying about you-"

Nicole cut Nancy off quicker than lightning would flash.

"It's not true." Nicole whimpered as she turned to face Nancy with tears brimming.

"I believe you. Let's get you out of here"

Nancy put her arm around Nicole and guided her away from the gossip of Hawkins corridors they were like paparazi.

A couple of days later the rumours began to die down as there was always someone new at the centre of some gossip, Nicole had made it her prioroty to keep her head down, and stay quiet. Nicole and Billy had ignored each other existenced... no 8pm window look outs or throwing stones, no eye contact on corridors.  It was as if they'd never crossed passed before. And well Steve decided upon himself to seek some justice for Nicole, at lunch he strided over to Billy who was perched on the table of a bench surrounded by his followers, upon seeing Steve approaching he rose up and stood firmly. As soon as Steve reached Billy he pushed him with all the force he had and it was enough to send Billy tumbling back.

'You're a douchbag Hargrove!" Steve spat at Billy who had found Steve's actions amusing.

"What the issue Harrington?" Billy snapped stepping forward to square up to Steve.

"You're my problem... running your mouth. Treating her like shit!"

'Woah!" Tommy, Steve's former friend, one of Billy's new followers spoke up.

"Treating who like shit?" Billy pretended to be oblivious to Steve, turning to his mates and laughing. Enraged, Steve once again forcefully pushed Billy, this time Billy didn't find it funny, he retaliated and a quick shoving match ensued before Billy right hooked Steve causing him to fall to the ground. Quickly Steve got back to his feet and the two began trading blows, a crowd quickly formed around the two. Nancy and Nicole heard a commotion from the dining hall, looking outside the glass windows they saw a crowd shouting 'fight fight fight' they quickly looked at eachother before grabbing their bags and running over to the crowd. By the time they'd pushed through the crowd two teachers had managed to pull them apart, Nicole saw Billy and Steve being held back, both busted open in various aspects of their faces.

"They're fighting over you... God knows why" One girl mentioned turning to Nicole befote scoffing and walking away.

"Watch your mouth next time Hargrove." Steve yelled as he was dragged away by Mr Wallis.

Nicole's eyes were fixated on Billy, he looked a mess and she for some reason felt bad for him, it was obviously because of the feeligs she harboured for him, she wanted nothing mote than to run up and comfor him. She had time to ponder her feeling the past cpuole of dayd, she could forgive Billy but never forget and maybe that would be enough to try and move on. Billy's eyes picked Nicole out from the crowd, it's like his eyes always knew where she was, they stared intensley at each other for a few seconds and he saw the pain in her eyes, the pain he'd caused and he melted under that. He felt utterly broken at how upset she had looked the past couple of days, and to know that it was caused by him was painful to take. He'd not left her alone completley he had sneakily watched over her  at time the past couple of days, in the corridors when she wpukd be giggling with Steve, Nancy and Jonathon or in class when ever she contributed to lesson he never made it obvious but it enough to keep an eye on her, after all... he was in love with her.

The pain in Nicole's eyes came from seeing him bloody and bruised, yes she was upset about the rumours but she was more concerned about Billy and his state of being. Nicole waited for the crowd to disperse leaving Billy and Nicole standing across from each other.

"I'm sorry" Nicole spoke as she approached Billy, grabbing his hand. He looked down at her, watching her as she tenderly observed his knuckles.

"I should be sorry" He muttered.

"I'm sorry you think I'm passive aggressive, I'm sorry I'm defensive. I'm sorry for being 'perfect'" The words Billy had used to describe her earlier in the week had played over in her mind.

"I'm sorry Nicole. I told people what happened between us, they took it too far for a laugh and I let it happen".

"Please never apologise for being perfect Nicole. I said you were perfect because I meant it... your stunningly perfect" Nicole looked up to him with a small smile then turned around to walk away. His heart fluttered at those damned dimples.

[i-lovethatforme]

Here I am on my knees asking for a drabble based on the roof and I don't even know if you saw the trailer but I'm assuming so because you and Jill are one person

screaming. i did see the trailer but i didn't catch the bit on the roof! but i have been updated... a drabble ish for you x

It’s the same as yesterday and the day before. And it will be the same tomorrow. The flashing lights from people’s cameras, the loud whispers, the stares from people that didn’t know he existed last week.

Just another day walking through the halls when everyone knows you stopped a bus with your hands last night.

It’s not fun and exciting like he and Ned thought in freshman year. It’s overwhelming and terrifying and he can feel the blood thumping through his ears as he hears someone tell their friend they’re pretty sure Peter killed Mysterio. But that’s over - he was proven innocent. But it doesn’t matter anymore.

The lights flicker, and it feels like someone is drilling into his skull all too soon. He needs to get out. The last thing anyone in his life needs is a Spider-Man breakdown during lunch. He feels the signs of panic rearing through his spine and then he hears it.

The flub flub of her heart. The only thing that makes any sense to him at the moment is Michelle. For all his mistakes, she’s the best thing he’s ever done. 

He slows his pace but doesn’t turn around because often he’s overwhelmed with her and it doesn’t make it any easier to calm down. But he listens to her fast footsteps and he hears her knock someone’s phone out of their hand as she calls them vultures.

Her hand wraps around his as his eyes close, and she whispers. “Take me to the roof.”

Michelle hates swinging but she doesn’t scream in his ear as much as the first time. They do this often, her jumping into his arms so he doesn’t lose his mind in the hallway. Sometimes they sit on the roof in silence until he can hear himself think and sometimes he lets her thread her fingers through his hair.

Today he needs to physically be by himself, the feeling of someone else’s skin on his making his sense go haywire. But he doesn’t know how to tell her that. The last thing he wants is for her to think he doesn’t want her around - when she’s the only one he’s ever thinking about.

But she knows. She always knows.

“What do -”

“Can we just sit up here all day? It’s crazy down there,”

So she lets his hand go and she plonks herself on the floor - laying down with fury and grace as she places her head on her backpack. And he makes another mental reminder to thank some higher power for her.

“Wanna hear something crazy?” she asks, whipping a newspaper out from goodness knows where.

He hums at her as he mirrors her position, eyes closed against the sunlight and already finding it easier to breathe.

“There are some conspiracy theories around your powers…”

“Are you giving out details?” he jokes. He trusts MJ with his life - and he’s told her countless times that he never wanted to lie to her. But he can’t be sure if that means the trust goes both ways. Though she lets him swing her to the top of buildings so he assumes there is something there. He’s a little scared to ask.

“Mmm, not for less than I’m worth - but I’ll keep an eye out on the figures.”

“Uh-huh, what are the theories?” he replies, smiling wide when he turns to look at her. He’s kinda over not touching her now and he’d rather like to hold her hand or rest his head against hers. But then she continues.

“Some suggest that Parker’s powers include the male spider's ability to hypnotise females.”

“Stop, come on,” he playfully groans, never taking his eyes off her.

“Yes, my spider lord,” she says seriously. Though there’s a smile tugging at every muscle in her face when she turns her head to see him.

He misses her. She’s only about thirty centimetres away and he’s over her not being closer. So he shoots a web at her hip and listens to her scream as he flips her over to him. She might be mad about it, but he’s got about three seconds to press kisses to her face before she tells him that.

“You’re the worst,” she groans, lifting her head up to give him a steely stare. It made him nervous in Venice, and he could barely maintain eye contact in freshman year. But now he tucks the fallen hair behind her ear, and brushes his lips to her pout and lets the fast beating of her heart soothe him.

“Sorry, Em, I just missed you,” he whispers, not needing to raise his voice because they’re so close. This part they’ve gotten used to. It still makes his chest feel full and she never fails to make him blush and the uptick in her heart makes him smile into every kiss. With the hiding from the public and the secret nighttime meet-ups - this was their reward.

“I’m right here, dork,” she replies, relaxing her muscles until he’s taking all her weight. He knows there will be a time when they have to go back down. Or he’ll hear sirens five blocks away and he’ll need to leave. But for right now, he has her. And that’s all he needs.

Always her.