Jimin groaned when he flipped over a chair on his haste to leave and had to waste even more time putting it back into place.
“In a hurry?” He made a sharp turn to meet the source of the voice and tried to deny the way his heart skipped a beat when he saw who it was.
Jeon Jungkook. Leaning against the doorframe and blocking the way out. Successfully trapping Jimin inside the changing rooms when no one else was around.
Not that he had a huge problem with that, seeing as he and Jungkook had been playing the staring game for a few weeks now, even though it had to be discreet since they weren’t supposed to be friends.
(Which Jimin thought was ridiculous; he never really understood school hierarchy.)
“Yeah, Tae is waiting for me.” Jimin answered and, after the initial shock, found his voice was quite controlled.
“Taehyung, huh?” Not so fun fact: Jungkook and Taehyung didn’t get along. At all. If his best friend walked in now – and saw Jungkook slowly coming closer –, Jimin would have to deal with his inquiries for days.
Jimin nodded and hugged his hoodie – the reason he had gone back to his gym locker – closer to his chest. His eyes were still glued to Jungkook’s and he felt smaller than ever when he came to a stop right in front of him.
“Why don’t you forget about him for a second?” Jungkook muttered as he raised his hand to lightly caress Jimin’s cheek; just that amount of contact made him shiver.
A/N: Wow, I am on
a goddamn roll with this series! I’ve spoiled you guys, today! LOL! You guys
are lucky my class was cancelled! I have a full day of classes, tomorrow, so we
shall see when part 4 comes out. I’ll keep you updated!
pregnancy, swearing (why is this even a warning?), bullying, etc…
You had texted peter, asking him to come home, and he
replied that he was staying at Ned’s – needing some space. You texted Michelle
with no response. Aunt May had to leave, having gotten called in for a night
shift. You couldn’t go back to your apartment, because of your mother…
You had your own suite at the tower, too, but you didn’t
want to be alone. You needed someone to be with you. Natasha had become one of
your very few friends, in the short time that you had known her. She liked to
make jokes that you were the little sister she never asked for, but loved
immensely. You didn’t quite want to tell her about your little… okay, pretty
fucking big pickle – just, yet. You just wanted a nice, relaxing evening with
Natasha – and Wanda, if she wasn’t busy.
You grabbed your cellphone, a sweatshirt of Peter’s, and
your bags. When you reached the ground level of the building, you used your
phone to request an Uber to come pick you up, then called Natasha.
“Hey, Pechen’ye,” Natasha answered, calling you her little
nickname for you: Cookie. You still don’t
know why she calls you cookie. “How are you? Steve said you were sick,
“No, I’m fine. It’s passed.” You lied, “I’m actually staying
at the tower, tonight. I wanted to know if you and Wanda were free to come
watch some Netflix with me?”
“Yeah! Wanda is gone, but I just have some training to
finish with Barnes and Sam, if you want to come? We’ll be in the gym. We could
“I’ll meet you in there. See you soon.” You hung up your
phone, hoping that she didn’t catch any weird vibes from your call. It’s Natasha. Of course she already knows
something is up. You were surprised that she didn’t hack into your medical
records, figuring out what was wrong. Or
maybe she did, already, and just wants you to tell her? Not happening. Not
for a while.
Your Uber took forever to get to the tower, and tried to hit
on you twice. You were, also, 95% certain that you saw Peter swinging around,
on your way to the tower. You shot him a small text: I can see you. I’m headed to the tower to hang out with Natasha and
Wanda. May went to work. See you tomorrow?
He never responded. You figured he wouldn’t. You should have
known that he wouldn’t go to Ned’s. Whatever.
When you got to the gym, Bucky and Sam were arguing. Natasha
was just stretching on the side of the main sparring mats, watching them with
an annoyed look on her face.
“What are they arguing about?” You asked, dropping your bags
to the ground and stretching with her.
“Who won the spar. I called it a draw. I wanted to see if
they would fight about it, and what would happen.” She smirked, looking over to
me, “Straighten your back, if you’re going to stretch. Do you want to train?”
No. I’m pregnant. “I’m
good. I just want to relax, tonight. My body healed itself from whatever I was
sick with, and it took a lot out of me.” Don’t
catch the lie, don’t catch the lie…
“Why did you even
go to the doctors?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at you, “You always come see
Cho if you are worried about something, or think your powers healed you from being
“Cho’s out of town.” Not
a lie. “I’ll talk to Cho when she gets back.”
“You’re lying to me.” Nat stopped stretching, “Something is
happening. What’s going on with you?”
You didn’t realize that the boys had stopped arguing and
were now listening in. You huffed, laying back against the mats as Bucky came
over to stand by your feet. “Steve thinks you’re pregnant.”
You shot up, “What?!” You stared at him. “Why would he think
“Because you went to the doctors, and had to come talk to
Peter – then, Peter looked upset all day.” He shrugged, “You’re not that sneaky,
and it doesn’t take a scientist to figure something like that out. Plus, the
look you just gave me sort of confirmed it.”
“You’re pregnant?” Natasha shouted, hopping up from the mat.
“What the hell, Y/n! We have been training!
And you’re sixteen! You are too
young for a baby!” She started swearing in Russian.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Nat.” You sighed, standing
up and grabbing your bags, “Are you having a relaxing night with me, or not? I
just want to b-be fucking normal tonight, okay?” Your voice had cracked, and
tears started to blind your vision. “Just for tonight, okay? We can talk about
She looked over at
Bucky and Sam, who weren’t saying anything. Then, she let out a deep breath she
had been holding, “Okay. We can talk about it, later.” She marched over and
took your bags from you, “But we stay in my room, tonight.”
“Shit.” You looked around for your school bag. “Nat, I think
I left my backpack at Peter’s.”
“He dropped it off, already.” She called out from the
bathroom, where she was brushing her teeth, “It’s by the door.”
Oh. You looked at
your phone, which had been sitting on the nightstand, and checked to see if he
had texted you or called you. Nothing. Still.
You swallowed down the nausea that had been building, along
with your anxiety. Were you supposed to act normal at school, today? Were you
still going to act like a couple? Were you still
a couple? He only said he wanted space – not that he wanted to break up.
Will he break up with you?
That did it.
You ran into Nat’s bathroom, throwing up in the toilet while
she brushed her teeth.
“Don’t brush your teeth, use mouth wash. I heard it grinds
the acids into your teeth.” She said, handing you the bottle when you were
done. “Also, I think you should move out of your mom’s apartment.”
“Nat.” You shook your head, “I can’t. I’m only sixteen.”
“Oh, please.” She waved her hand dismissively, “You know
that Stark could get you emancipated in a heartbeat.”
“I’ll think about it.” You rinsed your mouth out after the
mouthwash, and gathered your school stuff, “Hopefully today is just an easy,
Oh how wrong you were…
You were running late, so you didn’t get to eat, again.
Plus, you felt exhausted.
Then, the cab driver couldn’t break the hundred that Tony
had given you for your ride, so you had to run into a cafe – still on the
meter. Then, Flash Thompson was standing by the front doors to the school and
said something rude as you walked in – dampening your mood further.
Finally standing at your locker, you ripped your coat off
and shoved it on the hook, forcefully.
Peter still hadn’t talked to you. You understood he wanted
time and space, but you weren’t used to not talking to him. You’d always had
him as someone you could talk to at any time, even before you two had started
You didn’t like this. Not one bit. It was stressing you the
“Hey, stranger.” Michelle was suddenly next to you, “I take
it you feel better? You were obviously sick, yesterday. You never miss.”
“Yeah,” You carded a hand through your hair, clearing your
throat. “I’m fine. Just tired, still. Hey, have you seen Peter?”
“He’s at his locker, talking with Ned, like he always is
before class.” She laughed, giving you a funny look. “You sure you’re okay? You
don’t look too good. You look a little sweaty and pale. Are you still sick?”
You shook your head, putting on a fake smile, “Must be left
over from yesterday. Let’s go.”
She linked her arm through yours, pulling you towards Peter’s
locker – where the boys looked to be in a serious discussion.
“H-hey, Y/n.” Ned cut Peter off, putting on a fake smile. “How
are you this morning?”
“Fine.” You smiled, feeling awkward. Peter was facing away
from you, looking like he would rather be anywhere but next to you. You cleared
your throat, and fought off a wave of exhaustion. You tried to talk to him, “Hey.”
Michelle looked between you and Peter as he ignored you, “What’s
going on? Are you two fighting?”
Peter slammed his locker shut, making you jump a little. He
walked away without so much as a glance your way, and you felt tears fall down
your cheeks as your heart broke a little more.
“Excuse me.” You mumbled, wiping your face and walking
towards an empty hallway. The bell had rung a few seconds after you found a
spot, but Michelle had followed you, anyways.
“Y/n, what the hell is going on?” She asked, looking around
to make sure the two of you were really alone. “Are you two really fighting?
You two never really fight. More like
bicker. Almost like an elderly married couple. It’s sickening, really.
Although, I guess it was bound to happen-”
“Michelle.” You cut her off, shaking your head. You wiped
your face with the sleeves of your – well, Peter’s
– sweatshirt. “Please?”
“Wow.” She frowned, setting her backpack down on the floor, “It
must be serious. What happened?”
You shook your head, “We fucked up. Really bad.” She
motioned for you to continue, handing you a tissue from her backpack. “I wasn’t
here, yesterday, because I went to the clinic.” You gulped. “I went to Planned
Her face turned to one of shock, “Are you…?”
You nodded, “I’m around twelve weeks pregnant.”
“Holy…shit.” Michelle dropped down to the floor, leaning her
back against the wall, “When did you guys…?”
“Back in October.” You chuckled at her grossed-out
expression, “After I went to band camp, and I’d slept over at Peter’s again.”
“Oh, wow. That’s way before you guys actually started
dating.” She shivered in mock (or maybe real?) disgust. “That was around the
time that you two started getting all touchy feely. More than usual.”
“Yeah. That was the only time we had sex, though.” You
sighed, “Now, look at us.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I have no fucking idea.” You sat down next to her, leaning
your head against her shoulder, “He’s mad at me, because we agreed on aborting.
Then, I changed my mind without talking it out with him. I sort of just went
all protective and told him that my decision was final.”
“It’s your body,
Y/n. It’s ultimately your choice.” She argued, “He doesn’t have a say if you do
or you don’t have this baby.”
“It’s his life, too.” You tried to defend him, “This is his
baby, too. It may be my choice, but it’s also his.”
“Y/n.” She grabbed my hand, “I’m not here to tell you what
to do, but I think that you and Peter need to sit down together and really talk about this. If he isn’t
talking to you, he’s probably just panicking because he thought that you two
had it figured out – then, you didn’t. He’ll come around.”
“I hope so.” You closed your eyes, tiredly gripping her hand
tighter. “I miss him.”
“Oh, no.” You whispered, staring at your phone in the
hallway, a few hours later.
Flash fucking Thompson tagged you in a tweet.
“Pretty sure I just
heard @Y/n say that she was PREGNANT?! WTF!”
Shit. He heard you talking to Michelle in the hallway.
Every 4-letter word you could think of was on repeat in your
People were staring at you. That had been tweeted about an
hour previous. Meaning, people had definitely saw it. There were comments,
retweets, and replies.
You shut your phone off in a panic, scanning the hallway for
Peter. You didn’t see him, and ran for the front doors, pushing people out of
your way as you went.
“Hey! Y/n!” You hear Flash just before you see him standing
in front of the exit. “So, are you really knocked up?” A crowd was gathering. “That’s
a shame. Looks like you’re going to end up just like your momma.” He laughed,
and so did the stupid little crowd of assholes. “Just make sure to lay off the
hard drugs, you don’t want to lose your looks. What little looks you did have.” He smirked, gesturing to your
“Fuck off, Flash.” You were about to go the fuck off. Your
heart was racing, you felt cold, you needed to sit down. “Let me leave.”
“Naw. I think I’ll just-”
You didn’t let him finish before you flew forward and hooked
him right in the jaw. You didn’t stay for the aftermath of your punch, before
you were running out the doors and into the city. You needed to think. You
needed to go home. To your own apartment. Where nobody would bug you, and your
mom was most likely passed out.
No such luck.
You ran into the apartment, ready to break down, when you
suddenly heard a shatter next to your head. “What the fuck, Mom! Did you just
throw a bottle at me?!”
“Are you fucking knocked up, you stupid little bitch?” She
yelled, slurring and taking a chug from a different bottle, “Fucking Susie Q,
or whatever - some fucking chipper lady called from Planned Parenthood. Said
that they couldn’t get a hold of your cellphone and that you forgot some papers.”
Shit. You should have
never put your home phone number on the form. “I am.”
“Stupid piece of fucking shit!” She threw another bottle
towards me, “Didn’t I teach you anything when I told you all about the birds
and the bees? Are you too fucking stupid to comprehend contraception? What am I
paying that fucking fancy school of yours for, anyways?”
“You don’t pay them, Mom.” She threw another bottle at you. “Where
the fuck are you getting all these bottles, you psycho! Stop! Mom! Stop!” She
kept throwing them, getting closer and closer to you. A burst of pain radiated
from the side of your head as one knocked you right in the temple. “Mom!
Please!” You raised your shaking hand to your head. It came away sticky with
You ran from the apartment, blood dripping from the cut
above your eyebrow.
Fuck. What the hell.
You called Peter, but only got his voicemail.
“P-peter? It’s me.” Your voice cracked as a sob racked
through your body, “I’m headed to the tower, can we please talk? I just tried
to go to my apartment, and m-my mom threw a f-fucking bottle at my head. I’m
bl-bleeding. Please. I- Shit.” You dropped your phone, hearing the phone’s
screen crack against the sidewalk as you collided with a giant man on the
street. “I’m sorry, sir.” He grumbled and kept walking. Great. Phone’s shattered.
The walk to the tower was long. You usually took an Uber or
a cab, but you had left your wallet in your purse. Which was still in your
locker. Along with your coat.
Shit you were cold. Really fucking cold.
It took you forty-five minutes to get to the tower, because you
had to stop and catch your breath. Why am
I breathing so hard? Your head was still pounding from the bottle, but you
were sure that the blood had stopped running down your face. Fuck, you felt dizzy. You needed to work
out, more. Jesus.
“Miss Y/L/N?” Ed, the security guard, was suddenly in front
of you. When the hell did you get to the
tower? Weren’t you just on a park bench? “Miss, you’re bleeding.”
“I-I…” You heard an alarm go off. What? What was the alarm?
You looked around and people were standing above you. How the hell did you get
to the floor? Weren’t you just talking to Ed? “Why a-am I on the…”
Darkness washed over your vision as you passed out.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: surprise!!!! another story lol. this is a bucky AU just an fyi! i was inspired by taylor swift’s mary’s song because that song is freaking precious. anyway. this won’t be a long one either. tags for this story are open!
oh, also! the power ranger story is something that actually happened to me when i was about 7. except that we were playing power rangers and i wanted to be the red one but i HAD to be the pink one because i was a girl and i got really mad lol
You looked up at him while he talked about something from a movie, your
eyes shining with admiration. You were only 7 and him 9, but he was the
most important thing in the world for you although he felt the complete opposite about you. You were just some annoying little girl that wouldn’t leave him alone.
You ran around the backyard, following Bucky and Steve. Steve was one of Bucky’s best
friend’s and the two were attached at the hip.
“You can’t play with
us!” Bucky roared as he came to a halt.
You crossed your arms over your chest and
frowned. “Why can’t I play with you?”
“Because you’re a
girl,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows. “And girls can’t be
“Yes, they can!” You stomped your foot down on the
Series Title: 10 Things I Hate About You (AU) Fandom: MCU Characters: Bucky Barnes x Stratford!reader, Clint Barton x Stratford!Natasha, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, Sharon Carter, mentions of Steve Rogers, mentions of Tony Stark Warnings: Alternate Universe, mild swearing Word Count: 1,797 Requested: No Description: Y/N and Natasha Straford’s house rules say that Nat can’t date until Y/N has a boyfriend, so strings are pulled to set the dour damsel up for a romance. Soon Y/N crosses paths with handsome Bucky Barnes. Will Y/N let her guard down enough to fall for the effortlessly charming Bucky?
Disclaimer: not my gif
[Y/N] = your first name
Growing up in an upper-middle-class home in California was something that Y/N Stratford had always been thankful for. Being subjected to those assholes that people at her school called boys, however, was not something that she appreciated very much. None of the boys at Y/N’s high school were worth any of her time, in her opinion, and some of the girls there were pretty awful too. Y/N’s sister, on the other hand, totally disagreed. After their mother passed away, Y/N and Nat had started falling out more than ever, and they barely even spoke to one another anymore.
Natasha Statford was the incarnation of all the things that people at Stark High School wanted to be: pretty and popular. That was the extent of it. And not only was Nat shallow and a little bit of an airhead, but she was awful to her older sister, Y/N, and had taken advantage of their dad’s love for his daughters when their mother passed away. Nat wanted to do what everyone else her age did: date a cute boy with a high social rank at their school. Perhaps that was what made Nat the favoured Statford sister. Y/N was just as beautiful as Nat, and even more smart. But she had an antisocial, often abrasive attitude and wanted nothing to do with the losers at their school.
Nat’s best friend, Sharon Carter, was smart enough to befriend Nat in order to climb her way through the social system of their high school, not that Nat would ever realise, and had always had her eye on Steve Rogers; a self-absorbed high school senior and aspiring model. Steve’s affluent best friend Tony was the grandson of the man who founded the high school they all attended, and it only made the two of them even more unbearable.
At least Y/N had one friend that was worth having: Wanda Maximoff. Wanda was considered to be even more odd than Y/N at Stark, and that was saying something. She wore dark clothing and loved Shakespeare more than anything. People gave her nicknames such as witch, but Wanda only ignored them. One more year of school and Wanda and Y/N would be gone from that hell hole anyway.
In the morning, Nat and Y/N got to school separately. Nat rode the bus with Sharon in the mornings and Y/N took her old car that she had bought with the money she saved from all of her part-time jobs. Y/N – unlike Natasha – wanted to be responsible for herself and was sure that she would only use her inheritance for paying for college and nothing else. Natasha was already coaxing her father into buying her Prada backpacks and who knows what else. So once Y/N and Nat were out the door, it was almost like they didn’t even know each other.
Summary- You are a scientist that works for the Avengers,
who is also dating Natasha and Bucky. You get kidnapped and you’re not just
going to wait around for your knights in shining armor to come and rescue you. Also
reader is low key a mutant.
Message- I know that I said I would work on some of the
series this weekend but I ended up being really busy, so I wrote this quick fic
instead. I’ll work on some of the series tomorrow! Sorry if this sucks!
Warning- Reader is kidnapped and you shoot some people.
Word Count- 1091
“You really shouldn’t have done this.” You say as the man
ties your wrist to the chair. “Do you know who I am?”
“You work for the Avengers. I’m sure they will be willing to
pay a pretty penny to get you back.” He was right, you did work for the Avengers.
You worked alongside Tony and Bruce in the lab. That had been were you had met
your partners. Nat had brought Bucky down to the lab to get his arm fixed one
day and you had flirted a bit with them both, and then they came back the day
after and asked you on a date. That had been two years ago and the three of you
had been together ever since that day.
“You’re not going to get any money from them.” You say to
“If they ever want to see you with your head attached to
your body they will.” The man growled as he moved closer to you. You take that opportunity
to head-butt him. Then you break your bounds and you kick the man in the head
and he falls unconscious. You take his gun and his knife and you run to the
door. As you go to open it you see more men in hall, you start to shoot at them,
eventually you are able to get out of the building, but you had been shot in
the shoulder. You hear an engine and look up to see a quinjet. Tasha and Bucky
are off the quinjet seconds after it landed and they run over to you.
“Лапочка, are you okay? You’re hurt!” Nat
cries as she runs up to you. Bucky eyes are scanning up and down your body,
taking stock of any other possible injury you may have. They both give you a
kiss on the cheek and then Bucky picks you up brings you to the quinjet.
“Hey, nerd, you were supposed to let us
rescue you!” Tony jokes
“Sorry, but I got tired of waiting for my
knights in shining armor.” You snip back.
“Y/N, I’m going to give you some pain meds.
It’s going to make you sleep.” Bruce says.
“Go to Bible School to Get a Husband,” and other things you shouldn’t tell little girls
“Go to Bible School to get a husband.”
→ How about, “Go to Bible School to deepen your relationship with Christ?” → Why not, “Go to Bible School to explore intellectually what you have felt emotionally/spiritually?” → What if we said, “Go to Bible School to seek out God’s leading and calling on your life?”
2. “Be careful not to cause your brothers in Christ to stumble.” → How about, “Be careful to surround yourself with men/women who build you up and don’t tear you down.” → Why not, “Watch out for the men/women who view your virginity as the validity for you to be a part of the body of Christ.” → What if we said, “Protect yourself from men/women who blame their lust on your body.”
3. “It’s okay, Jesus is your boyfriend.” → How about, “You don’t need a boyfriend to make you valuable to the Kingdom of God.” → Why not, “Look for your worth in God’s love for you vs. finding your worth in the love and acceptance of a significant other.” → What if we said, “You are still living in relationship, even if you are ‘single’. You are in relationship with God, yourself, and the people around you. Romantic relationships do not trump the importance of these relationships.”
4. “Guard your heart.” → How about, “It’s okay to be soft. Do not fear your own tenderness, God has not given you a spirit of fear.” → Why not, “It’s not your fault. Guarding your heart doesn’t always save you from bad stuff happening.” → What if we said, “We all make mistakes, it’s okay to feel this hurt, God is with you in this hurt.”
5. “Wait for the man you will marry.” → How about, “It’s okay to hold off on sexual activity, but don’t hold off on living your life before you (potentially) meet the man of your dreams.” → Why not, “There’s more to focus on than waiting for a future mate.” → What if we said, “God has good work for you to do now that you can’t wait on.”