#bobbisharons

[rowenasamuel]

i asked on cc but i realized i didn't specify what i was talking about so, starquake + 24 for the smut pleaaaase :)

24. shy

Daisy’s never been squeamish about sex- not about discussing it, not about doing it, not about anything involving it. She’d lost her virginity in a 7/11 bathroom when she was 17 to a kid she copied biology notes off of- it had been quick, mostly painless, and less than stellar.

Sex had gotten better over the years, obviously. She liked it- but she hadn’t had sex with anyone but herself since Lincoln two years ago. And the idea of intimacy- of letting someone in that close again, of giving them part of her still-healing heart. Quite frankly, it terrified her.

But Peter was warm, and funny, and had wormed his way through the armor she’d secured around her chest and settled there, curled and contented like a cat in the sun. He grinned at her and it made her want to be brave, and jump in headfirst.

“You’re nervous,” Peter says softly, thumb brushing along her lower lip as he looked up at her. Daisy sighed, leaning down to press her forehead to his, eyes slipping shut.

“I haven’t...done this, in a while,” she confesses, swallowing. “Opening myself up...it’s harder, than it used to be.”

“I’ll catch you,” Peter promises, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks, thumb brushing along the bones. “And if this is too fast- we’ll go slow. I love you, Dais. All of you.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Daisy whispers, leaning down to kiss him soundly, sighing when his hands gripped her waist, holding her against him. Peter pulls himself further onto the bed, wrapping his arms around her and tugging until they’re lying side by side, his arm around her waist and his mouth on her neck.

“I’m gonna make you happy,” Peter declares, and Daisy laughs, delighted.

“You already do,” she replies, running her fingers through his stubble, nails catching lightly on his skin. “I promise to do my best to make you just as happy as you make me.”

Peter beams, surging forward to kiss her again.

[rowenasamuel]

please come get me; you can trust me; shit, are you bleeding?; bobbisharon 👀

She’s running out of time.

Alarms are blaring, lights are flashing; she keeps runningtowards where she remembers the exit being, the flashdrive full on intelsecured in a chain around her neck. It was supposed to have been an in-and-outmission, but Parker had fucked it up royally and now the entire building securityteam was on her tail.

She smashes her baton into a guard’s face as she rounds thecorner; she’s about to kick the next one in the balls when he drops from a shotin the back. She looks up and sees a familiar blonde ponytail and practicallysighs in relief.

“Took you long enough,” she calls, and Sharon looks at her,raising an eyebrow.

“I was in the middle of a date when I got your “please comeget me” signal, I’ll have you know,” she answered, extending a hand towardsBobbi. The taller woman takes it, letting Sharon pull her along towards theexit.

They duck into a doorway at the sight of a group of guards;they’re pressed together, and Bobbi winces, hand going to her side. Sharonfrowns, lifting her hand carefully. “Shit, Bob, are you bleeding?”

“Grazed my side. Hurts like a bitch but I’ll be fine,” sheanswers, letting Sharon look at the wound. “Come on, let’s get to the safehouse.”

They make it to the safe house with relative ease; Sharonfinds the booze while Bobbi grabs the first aid kit, hissing as she dabs alcoholon the graze.

“Let me stitch it,” Sharon offers as she brings Bobbi andglass of vodka on ice; Bobbi hands her the needle and thread as she knocks thedrink back.

“You can trust me, you know,” Bobbi says after a few momentswhile Sharon finishes her stitches. Sharon looks up at her, eyebrow half-raisedin question. “Don’t run, this time, Sharon.”

Blue eyes meet hers in a long moment of silence before theother blonde leans up, mouth meeting hers languidly.

“Okay,” she whispered, nose brushing hers. “No more running.”