#hey. if anyone wants to send me/point me towards shirts/outfits that pop up again and again

[dribs-and-drabbles]

I know, she says, I'll compile a list, she says, of all the shirts/outfits that have been worn in multiple qls.

Like that's easy.

Like there's only a handful...maybe 7/8...

She's at 20 and counting. And that's only the ones she remembers. There are probably others she hasn't noticed...because she just discovered three more.

Why? she laments, why did I start this*?, as she slowly closes her laptop.

(*because she now needs to finish it.)

#the thai communal wardrobe #gmmtv communal wardrobe #thai bl #thai ql #I might actually make the post soon #but right now I need a screen break #and a t-shirt slogan break #I do love them though #hey. if anyone wants to send me/point me towards shirts/outfits that pop up again and again #then please do!

[littledrummeraussie]

we’d fall from grace.

Ashton Irwin x assistant stylist!reader

part 2 of if these walls could talk | read part 1

story masterlist | general masterlist

word count: 3710

This was probably my most requested “we need a part 2!” story, and you know what - here we go! Hope I’m not gonna disappoint anyone! ❤️

warnings: flirting & teasing. mentiones of previous sexual encounter. sex with protection. tour bus & bunk bed sex. almost getting caught. female receiving oral. and a big load of angst to finish it up.

- - - - -

You could still feel Ashton’s touch on your arm where he grabbed you after their show was over, see the excitement in those hazel eyes as he tried to pull you with himself, ready to go back and finally come up with his post-show ritual. But time wasn’t on your side. Before he could take another step you needed to pull back, telling him that everyone was running late and he needed to be up on their bus in the next 10 minutes. Ashton rolled his eyes, grumbling something colourful under his breath as he changed directions to grab his stuff.

“Don’t forget your boxers,” you made one last fleeting comment, referring back to your little shared moment in the back room; Ashton was almost out of the door to go back to the dressing room and you needed to remind him that he left his underwear right next to his bath tub.

“But they are wet,” you could still hear the pout in his voice as he caught them when you threw them at him. Now he only flashed you a grin, clearly remembering your answer.

“So am I.”

“You could bring them for me next time,” he winked at you, flirt lacing his voice. “Just like you did with my towel.”

“In your dreams, Irwin,” you returned his teasing, only the two of you knowing the double meaning of your words.

An hour or two has gone by since then, and you were left with your thoughts and the memory of Ashton’s body pressed against your side as you’ve made him come – the sounds of his pleasure still ringing in your ears. The bus was mostly quiet as it made its way to your next stop, and you snuggled up in your bunk with your sketchbook, wanting to work on some ideas you’ve been playing around with, but mostly just wanting to forget about Ashton. You could feel your cheeks heat up as you recalled his words, the touch of his skin, how his hair felt between your fingers, how his lips were soft but his kisses hard. In the end you needed to realize that none of your actual ideas made it on paper, but instead you came up with a whole line of outfits for the man himself, and you sighed, tucking the book back under your pillow.

One can’t just forget about Ashton Irwin.

*

Your phone buzzed next to your elbow and you slowly picked it up, not knowing who would bother with sending you a text at this time. But the name that flashed across the screen made you bite your lip, and you knew you couldn’t resist answering him. The little annoyed face emoji you’ve put next to Ashton’s name made you giggle, the feeling quickly turning into something else after your adventure with him.

Ashton: Hey, are you still up?

Y/N: …maybe.

Ashton: …did I wake you?

Y/N: Can’t really sleep until we don’t stop for something.

Y/N: Not a big fan of sleeping on buses.

Ashton: You get used to it after some time.

Y/N: I prefer my own bed, but thank you for your input.

Ashton: What about my bed? 😉

You needed to put the phone face down next to you, cheeks turning hot at the offer. He was on the other bus with the guys, maybe chilling with them in the front or doing something stupid that band members usually do at this time, yet even like this he was able to turn you into a hot mess. The thought of crawling into his bed and touching him again made you bury your face in your pillow. There was nothing innocent about his offer – and there was nothing innocent about your thoughts either. Not since you’ve walked in on him naked and gave him a handjob. Not since he’d told you that he got off on fantasies of you every night.

Another quick buzzing sound broke the silence of your bunk, then another. Maybe you’ve been quiet for too long and Ashton thought he went too far.

Ashton: I can’t sleep either.

Ashton: Can’t stop thinking about you or what we did.

Ashton: Wish we had time to do more.

Y/N: You still have your dreams, Irwin. Solve that problem. 🙃

Ashton: I’ve thought you were the problem solver. 😘

Y/N: I can’t really do anything about it from here. You’re kinda on the other bus.

Y/N: …and I’m still wearing clothes.

Ashton: Not in my head. 😉

A picture popped up under the texts, Ashton snuggled up in his bunk with tousled hair and pursed lips, a smile clearly playing at the corner of his mouth, earbuds tucked in his ears.

Ashton: I could call you and talk your ears off until you fall asleep?

Y/N: But where’s the fun in that? 😊

Y/N: Tell me about the song you’re listening to.

Y/N: Wanna know what’s playing while you fantasize about me.

Y/N: …hope it’s not Calum singing…

Ashton: Don’t ruin the mood!

Ashton: Fuck. Wish you were here so I could shut your smart mouth with my own.

Y/N: That’s a very poetic way of telling me you want to kiss me again…

Ashton: Not just kiss you.

Ashton: Want you in every way. Every kiss, every sound, every touch. Everything.

Ashton: You’re all I can think about.

Y/N: This might end up being the longest night of all…

Y/N: You’re close… but still not close enough…

That was the point when Ashton started sending you songs sharing whatever he was listening to, and if you closed your eyes it almost felt like you could curl up against him, sharing his earbuds as you both got lost in the music, ready to fall asleep. It was so easy to pretend, so easy to imagine him there with you. If only the two of you were on the same bus.

*

There was a light knock on the side of your bunk, and you pulled back the curtains, coming face to face with Kat. You could hear commotion from the front, people talking over each other as they got off the bus and you realized that you’ve stopped moving.

“Guys called over from the other bus that they are stopping at a 24/7, and we did too. Just wanted to ask if you need something? Maybe some of those snacks you like so much?”

“That would be great, thanks Kat.”

“Try and get some rest, okay? I know you can’t fall asleep on a moving bus,” she nodded, fingers tugging on the curtain. “This is your chance to catch some Z’s. I think we’ll be here for 30 minutes or so, should give you plenty of time.”

“Alright mama, I get it,” you laughed, burrowing against your pillow. “Night, Kat!”

“Night, Y/N! See you in the morning.”

You were ready to turn back around and finally get the sleep you’ve been craving since settling in your bunk, but then you felt it again. Your phone started buzzing next to you, and it took you a second to realize that these were not text messages, but an actual call. Ashton’s name was flashing across the screen, and you quickly picked it up, not wanting to miss your chance at hearing his voice.

“Where are you?” his voice was a whisper, his tone almost impatient. “Everyone went to the store and I didn’t see you leave the bus!”

“I’m still up? Trying to get some sleep,” you furrowed your eyebrows, clearly not following what he wanted.

“Fucking hell, Y/N,” he groaned, a small laugh following. “Get your cute ass over here before anyone comes back! Hurry!”

With that the call got disconnected, and in a second you scrambled out of your bed, pulling the curtains back so it looked like you were sleeping. When you were sure no one was around you quickly jumped off the bus, eyes searching for the other one. Then it caught your attention, a person waving at you frantically, and you sprinted over to the bus parked just a little bit away from yours. Ashton curled his arms around your waist, dragging you up the stairs and into the small living area, his lips already on yours as he pushed you against a wall.

“Damn, you look sexy in our crew hoodie,” he grinned when he finally pulled back, fingers curling into the hem of the fabric.

“It’s really comfy to sleep in,” you stroked the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him back for another kiss.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been doing it too,” Ashton sucked on your bottom lip, knocking his forehead against yours. “But now I just really want to take it off you.”

He grabbed your hand, quickly leading you to the back of the bus and before you knew it Ashton already pushed you down on the couch, legs on both sides of your waist as he wrestled off his hoodie and shirt, tossing them on the floor. With elbows resting next to your head he leaned forward, lips crashing together again, his fingers diving into your hair to angle your head towards the kiss. You squeezed his shoulders and biceps, wanting to pull him even closer and melt against his body, get rid of your clothes and just feel him. The memory wasn’t enough anymore – not when he was right above you, sweatpants riding so low on his hips that you could have easily slipped them off of him.

Ashton’s fingers curled into your hoodie again, working it upwards until he needed to pull away to get it off you. He groaned loudly when he saw you wearing only a top, your hard nipples straining against the thin fabric. He nuzzled his face against your skin, nose lightly skimming the open neckline of the top before he closed his lips around one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth through your shirt. A moan finally broke out of you, gripping his curls between your fingers as he teased you with his tongue and teeth, his other hand slipping under your shirt to tweak your other nipple.

“That’s exactly how I’ve imagined you,” he pressed open mouthed kisses against your throat, sucking a quick mark into your skin where the hoodie would cover it. “So responsive and sounding like a fucking dream.”

“What’s your favourite fantasy?” your nails scratched the top of his shoulders, leaving faint red marks on his skin. “Other than getting me naked?”

An almost wolfish grin pulled at his lips as he pulled off your shoes and dropped them next to the couch, your legging quickly following. His palms cupped your ass cheeks and squeezed them before pushing his shoulders under your knees, and your legs spread involuntarily as he kissed the soft skin of your thighs, dangerously close to your pussy.

“Eating you out,” his eyes bore into yours as he pressed his lips against the wet spot on your panties, quickly licking over it. “Fuck, you taste amazing!”

“Ash, fuck–” your hips lifted to get closer to his mouth, and he chuckled, tugging your soaked panties to the side.

“Soon, baby,” and with that he wrapped his lips around your clit, lapping at it quickly.

You needed to put both hands on your mouth to keep your sounds at bay, not wanting anyone finding out about the two of you – what Ashton was doing between your legs was only for you to know. He groaned against your skin, tongue licking between your folds as his eyes searched you, and you were ready to combust just from this. Fingertips teased against your hole as Ashton kissed your stomach, sucking on the skin to give you another hickey, his knuckles slowly slipping inside. He rutted his hips against the couch as he licked at your pussy lips, fingers already searching for that one spot that would make you go crazy.

Laughter and shouts flew across the parking lot and you whined, trying to push Ashton away from you, making him groan. He swiped his fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his forehead as he kneeled up, listening to the sounds getting closer.

“I can’t be seen here,” you reached for your clothes, ready to tug them back up and somehow make it off the bus in record time.

“I’m not letting you go,” he caught you around the waist, motioning you towards his bunk. “Quick!”

His arms were already full with all your discarded clothes, throwing them at the end of his bed as he scrambled after you, pulling the curtains closed behind himself. He was pressed against your back as both of you listened to the sounds, your heart pounding in your chest from possibly getting caught. A minute passed, maybe two, but when no one came up on the bus Ashton let out a sigh, stifling it against your neck, the sensation making you shiver from head to toe.

“I can’t wait anymore,” his lips skimmed against the back of your neck, whispering his words on your skin. “Gonna lose my sanity if I can’t have you.”

“We need to be quick,” biting your lips you moved your hand back, reaching for his hard dick that’s been pressing against your ass for minutes now, squeezing it through his sweats.

“Then we better get to it,” he reached under his pillow for a condom, pushing his pants down to free himself.

He pulled your hips back to his, tugging on your panties until you kicked them off, then let your body melt against his, burrowing close to each other in the small space of his bunk. Ashton pushed his cock between your thighs, stroking it between your folds until he got coated in your wetness, then wrapped his arms around you, keeping you still as he started pushing inside. His face was in your hair, his small sounds making you dizzy as you took him inch by inch, the stretch already building the pleasure in the pit of your stomach.

“God, you really are soaking wet,” he nipped the shell of your ear, pulling out just to push back in deeper. “Taking me so fuckin’ good.”

“Don’t hold back,” you breathed, reaching for his hand to squeeze his fingers. “I can take it. I want it. I want you.”

“Definitely better than my fantasies,” he pressed a kiss against your jaw, pulling you back on his cock as he moved his hips, quickly fucking into you.

The air was hot around you, your skin already slightly sweaty and sticking against Ashton’s as he held you close, hands finding their place on your chest and squeezing your breasts as he pounded into you. He shifted on the bed and pulled you with himself, changing the angle of his thrust and drawing out another set of needy sounds from you.

“Yeah, that’s it baby, you sound so hot,” he pulled your face to his, lips gliding messily against the other’s, his thrusts getting quicker. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come again?”

“Gotta solve this problem too, yeah,” you let out a giggle, kissing his chin as you moaned against his skin. “Fuck me, Ash, harder!”

Ashton growled, ready to pound you into oblivion when someone started climbing up the stairs at the front, and he stilled, palm pressing against your mouth to keep you quiet. His breathing was heavy in your ear, trying to be silent and keep his composure, hoping that whoever came back won’t bother him now.

“Ash, mate,” Calum’s voice was drawing closer, and you were sure this was the end of it all. “You’re up? Forgot my wallet.”

You could almost feel Ashton rolling his eyes, his face buried in your neck as he waited for Calum to go back to the store.

“I know you’re not sleeping. Do you need me to pick up anything for you?” Calum was still chatting away, and you felt that Ash had enough as he pulled one arm back from around you, just to stick his hand out between the flaps of the curtain, and probably throwing his middle finger up at Calum. “Alright, alright I hear ya, you grumpy fucker!”

He kicked the side of the bunk as he left, and in a few seconds he was gone, making Ashton groan loudly.

“I’m not gonna let him kill the mood,” he grabbed your face to pull you in for another kiss, his hips quickly working back to their previous pace. “Gonna make you cum so hard you’ll see stars.”

“You better do that cause I’m already so close,” you sucked on his bottom lip, pulling his hand between your legs. “Yeah, just like that.”

Ashton circled his thumb around your clit, rubbing it quick and hard as his hips snapped against you, the tip of his cock dragging against your g-spot, and you felt your thighs shake, your pussy clenching around him as you finally reached your peak. He kissed your moans away, pumping into you quickly as he chased his own orgasm, and soon you felt his body tense, pulling you close as he came with a groan, his cock twitching inside you as he filled the condom with his cum.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he smeared kisses on your lips and cheeks, hair all over the place and tickling your face as he burrowed close to you. “So fucking incredible.”

“I don’t think I can move,” you let out a giggle, pressing sweet kisses against his lips. “Guess I did see the stars.”

“Come ‘ere,” he shifted to give you more space, pulling you close and tucking your head under his chin. “Just wanna hold you close.”

“I can’t stay, you know,” your fingers lightly ran up and down on his side, kissing his collarbone. “But I really can’t feel my legs.”

“It was that good, huh?” he grinned, squeezing your hips as he reached for the blanket.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you closed your eyes, pressing even closer to him. “Wake me in 5 minutes, okay?”

“I will, I promise.”

*

Something wasn’t right – you felt like you’ve forgotten something, and you knew it’s gonna get you into trouble. But you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was that. And you had a slight feeling that you shouldn’t care. Not when you were tucked against Ashton’s chest, his body warm against yours, hot breath tickling your skin as his lips pressed against your temple, his eyes beautiful in the morning light filtering through the curtains.

Morning. Ashton. Ashton, who was still very much naked. You were in his bunk. In his bunk only wearing a top. You had sex last night. In his bunk. On their bus. You were still on their bus and you slept through the night. You didn’t go back to your bed. Or your own bus. You had sex with Ashton and you were still here, even though…

“You didn’t wake me up!” you hissed, already pulling away from Ashton. “Fuck, you’ve told me you’re gonna wake me up!”

“You fell asleep and I didn’t have the heart,” he propped himself up on his elbow, reaching for your hand. “Hey, it’s fine!”

“It’s not fine,” you were frantically moving around in the small space, looking through the bedding to find your own clothes. “I should have been back in my bunk by the time they got back! Kat will be looking for me, and…”

“She knows you’re here,” Ashton added and you felt your ears start ringing, your head going dizzy. “I’ve sent her a text that you’re with me and that you fell asleep.”

“Fuck, Ashton, I only asked one thing from you!” you tugged on your hoodie, still looking around. “Shoes. Where are my shoes?”

“Are you looking for these…?”

The curtain was drawn back and you saw Calum holding up your sneakers, a sympathetic look on his face. You felt heat crawl up your neck as you took them away from him, pulling those on as well.

“Y/N, wait,” Ashton was reaching for his own clothes as you slipped out of his bunk. “Fuck, no, wait!”

You didn’t spare him another second, already feeling shame take over you as you passed Calum then Michael and Luke in the front of the bus. They acted like they didn’t see you, like they didn’t know why you were sleeping in Ashton’s bunk, but you knew it was clear as day. The bus was already parked at the venue, you’ve probably arrived just a few minutes ago, and as you stepped off the bus you could already see the rest of the crew packing. You pulled on the neck of your hoodie, hoping it hid the hickeys Ashton has left on your skin.

“Y/N–” Ashton suddenly jumped down from the bus, only wearing his sweatpants, another hoodie in his hand. “Y/N, wait–”

It felt like cold water was dumped on you as you realized that the one you were wearing was Ashton’s hoodie, the sweater so big on you that it definitely showed all the marks on your neck and the one in his hands… well, yours.

“Thanks for nothing,” you whispered, quickly tugging the fabric out of his hand.

“No, Y/N, I– I didn’t mean it,” Ashton fumbled around with his words, and you rolled your eyes, hoping the tears won’t come.

“Of course you didn’t. Just as you didn’t want to see me taking my walk of shame back to my own bus,” you crossed your arms over your chest, starting to finally go back.

“Hey, come here,” you felt someone step next to you and wrap their arm around your waist, and you felt a sob escape you as you realized it was Kat. “Don’t you have better things to do?! Everyone go back to work!”

You felt people staring at you for another moment before they scrambled back to their work. There was a loud thump coming from behind you and you were sure Ashton was kicking something, probably the tire of the bus, cursing loudly. Before you made it up to your bus with Kat you’ve heard one last comment – this time from Calum, addressed to Ashton.

“You know… fucking her and screwing with her are two very, very different things.”

- - - - -

taglist.

@mymindwide @loveroflrh @sadistmichael @notinthesameguey @babylonashton @talkfastromance4 @dead-and-golden @fuckyeah5sostakemehome @karajaynetoday  @myfavfanficsever @myloverboyash @suchalonelysunflower @sexgodashton @rebelwith0utacause @creampiecashton @irwinkitten @allthestarsandthemoon @castaway-cashton @spicycal @wontlastimokwiththat @luckyduckydoo @sunshineeashton @2fangirl4u @talkfastdrummer @pastelbabygirl19 @istantommoandtpwk @perfectlieirwin @thesweetness-irwin-archive @c-a-l-m-hood @youngblood199456 @tiannaxox2 @caffeinecalum @fanficsandotherthings @melanindarling @bubblegum18

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin angst #ashton irwin fanfiction #fiction time #afic: if these walls could talk #series: if these walls could talk

[creative-frequency]

Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Reader: Bright Time

Word count: 2321 Pairing: Inquisitor Cal Kestis x Reader Notes: Thank you all for the support and the lovely messages I’ve been receiving concerning this fic. You guys are definitely what has kept me writing since I never would’ve thought anyone else would be interested in this Inquisitor AU. So, thank you ❤️ This is the third part of the series!

Previous Part

My Writing Masterlist

It’s been another tedious week in Fortress Inquisitorius. Each day has been filled with dull tasks, really making you work for what they pay you. In a sense, you’re glad that there is no shortage of work but still time has moved extremely slowly. You’re anxiously waiting for any sign or a message from a certain Inquisitor.

You haven’t heard of or seen Cal ever since the day you fixed the melted control panel of the door to his quarters. Just thinking about the incident makes your blood boil and the Inquisitor will certainly get what he deserves. Somehow, one day. The details are still a little unclear, but you’re determined.

In the tranquility of your own living accommodations, you can finally strip off the dark overalls and faintly ponder the fact that it’s the only outfit Cal has ever seen you in. The uniform isn’t exactly complementing. Though, he didn’t seem to mind on your last encounter.

You sigh and toss the clothes to where you’ll to pick them up again in the morning, which means in eight hours – a luxury, really, in the light of the recent week.

As you slump on the elevated mattress posing as bed, one of your most faithful engineering droids rolls into the room.

“What’s up, MK?” you ask without getting up to look. Your back muscles are crying a symphony at finally relaxing on a soft surface.

The droid makes an uppish beep and you roll your eyes. This one has a handful of a personality.

“If it’s that important, why didn’t you say anything earlier?” you question, full-well knowing the MK droid will be galled by your lack of interested in its business. It lets out a series of drills, which sound a lot like scoffs for a being that has no respiratory channels.

“A message?” You frown lightly and get up to your elbows. A bad feeling creeps into the back of your mind. “Let’s hear it.”

The MK droid boops coolly and plays the recording.

“Hey, uhh, I think there’s a busted light bulb in here? Can you come and fix it today? Thanks.”

You freeze, blinking and staring at the messenger. You only just got away from work and now he wants you to go over to the other side of the base and urgh.

That kriffing stupid Inquisitor.

Ten minutes later you’re dragging your feet, once again wearing the stupid overalls and carrying a small toolbox. Fixing a light bulb shouldn’t be a big deal. You’re as equally vexed about having to get up as you’re anxious about getting to see Cal.

There has been no shortage of subconscious reminders about the last incident in his quarters and the more you try not to think about it, the faster your heart beats. Getting worked up about having to go and do your job doesn’t really help but at least you feel better when you think about all the ways to tell the stupid Inquisitor off. How can he be one of the Empire’s finest if he can’t even fix a kriffing light.

That inconsiderate man-child and his stupid pecs. If he weren’t an Inquisitor, I swear I’d–

It’s so late that the hallways are mostly empty save for the guards that you greet with yawns and earn a few sympathetic nods in return. If Cal isn’t wearing a shirt this time, you’ll give him a good old slap across the cheek, to hell with the consequences.

That perv might actually like it if I hit him. Oh, for kriff’s sake–

By the time you reach the right door, you’re positively fuming.

“How many Inquisitors does it take to switch a light bulb? Oh, I don’t know? None, since they have nerf shit as brains and can’t even– oh, hi. Ahem.” You settle the most perfectly neutral look to your face and hope Cal didn’t catch you muttering to yourself.

He gives you a cursory glance from your head to toes. At least he is wearing a shirt, even though it’s a very snug one.

“Come in,” he says.

Cal’s timid smile and casual tone set your cheeks alight and heart fluttering.

You clear your throat. “…Thanks.”

The sound of the door closing surges you into a mild inner panic but you draw in a breath to hide it and put the toolbox to the floor. Cal stays skulking by the entrance as you look up to find the target, eager to be on your way before he can think of anything reckless like the last time.

“Which one was it?” you ask slowly, craning your neck. All the lights seem fine and staring at them is making you see stars.

“The one in the middle,” Cal says and nods towards the culprit.

The light is as bright as the others and your eyes are starting to water from looking at them. You turn to Cal – his smile is nothing like timid anymore. It’s downright impish.

You should’ve known it was a trap.

“What’s the meaning of this?” You try to hold back the exasperation in your tone but it’s difficult. “Cal?”

The Inquisitor holds the eye contact and shrugs. You’re about to open your mouth to give him an earful when a loud crack makes you jump and you turn just in time to see the bulb explode into millions of tiny pieces. The shards scatter all over the floor as you instinctively hold your arms up to cover your face from the shrapnel, but not a piece even touches you.

The energy that was pouring into keeping the light on, no longer has a proper outlet and the fuse blows with a loud pop. You’re standing in the middle of the now dark room with the idiot Inquisitor.

The emergency lights near the floor cast an eerie red light and you can just barely make out Cal’s silhouette. Your eyes will need a moment to adjust to the darkness.

“Happy now?” is what you eventually set into snapping out at him.

The fuse box is in the hallway, but to get to it you need to find a way past the Inquisitor.

“Did you plan this?” The bravery falters in your tone. You swallow.

“Not really,” Cal says but you don’t believe him. “Hold on. Don’t move.”

Light clatter of glass against the floor echoes all around you and while you don’t see what happens, you assume that Cal just cleaned up the mess he made.

“Right,” you sigh, gather the ripples of your anger, and start walking towards the exit in resolute steps. Cal doesn’t move a muscle as you march past him. You’re almost to the door, already heaving out a relieved breath but come to the realization that you’re no longer moving.

In fact, your feet are taking you backwards. You yelp in surprise and almost get knocked over when the back of your legs hits the sofa in the middle of the room. You take purchase from the furniture to stay on your feet. Your eyes are steadily becoming acclimated to the darkness and you can see Cal’s silhouette coming closer.

Your blood pressure will lead to an early retirement at this rate.

“You need to stop breaking stuff to get me here,” you whine, “I’ll give you my personal comm frequency.”

“That’s not very exciting,” Cal huffs amused. He is standing right in front of you. The scarce light reflects enough from his eyes to hint where you should be facing.

“Well, sorry for not living up to your standards,” you quip frustrated and barely manage to finish the sentence since Cal’s hand comes to rest on your neck. The careful touch makes you quiver and your heart beats a mile a minute.

The breeze from Cal’s shallow breaths hits your skin as he leans forward. You would be lying if you claimed you were not waiting for this. He is smiling when your lips touch and you sink to sit down on the sofa back.

At least the door lock is fixed now.

“I’ve been, mmh, thinking… about you,” you confess even though Cal tries to make sure you can’t waste your mouth on talking. His lips move down to your jaw with a thoughtful hum and start trailing down towards your neck. It’s difficult to stay still with your already precarious balance.

“Glad to know I’m not the only one,” Cal husks.

His hands come down to rest on your waist and before you can reply, your world revolves again with a yelp as your back softly hits the sofa cushions. Cal climbs over and lifts you up to straddle him. Faintly, you register that the sofa is really large and comfy, and this man is done playing around.

Cal’s lips find yours again, more demanding and eager. He starts unzipping your uniform and thrill shoots up your spine. A pleasant haze is starting to settle into your mind and you have to strive to keep your wits about you.

“I don’t suppose you have any more requests when the light is fixed?” you ask as you let Cal do his thing with your work overalls and pull down the part covering your upper body. You’re still wearing a tank top underneath it.

“Mm. I want a kitchen droid,” Cal replies and plants his lips onto your shoulder. Pushing your nose into his hair makes you giddy and you don’t at first realize what he said.

“Huh? A kitchen droid? Why?” you fumble to question.

“The meals in the commissary are horrible,” he simply says and continues peppering your exposed skin with kisses. You can’t argue with that point.

“Mm. I’ll see what I can do.”

You ease yourself better into Cal’s lap, perfectly accidentally grinding yourself against him – to which he responds with a grunt and furrowed brows. It’s music to your ears.

Cal stops and straightens up, hands still somewhere around your middle body, rudely interrupted from hiking your top up. Even in the dark, you can see the warning in his eyes and it sends your pulse flying.

“Look. Do you want me to hold back or not? ‘Cause I can’t if you–”

You grind yourself again against the growing hardness in his pants and cut him mid-sentence.

“Who said anything about holding back?” you purr in a bit too seductive tone.

You hide your devilish smile by taking the turn to kiss the side of Cal’s neck. He groans again and you can feel his body going slightly rigid underneath you. Serves him right to taste his own medicine. Stupid Inquisitor.

“Alright. You asked for it,” Cal coos gently. His grip on your waist tightens and he throws you to your back on the sofa.

“Oh!” you yelp but quickly regain your stance even though your positions have been reversed.

You kick your shoes off and wiggle down the overalls with Cal’s help. Gripping his shirt hem, you yank the piece of clothing up to get it off. If you’re going to do this, you deserve to get a glimpse at how well his training has paid off.

When you reach his pants and open the zipper for access, the fervent undressing slows down and molds into a make out session. This time horizontally, on the sofa, with the Inquisitor on top of you and your legs tangled with his – and hands in each other’s pants. It’s hot and messy and you can’t see a thing, but who needs eyes when his fingers dip inside you and it feels so good that you want to cry out loud. The hums and moans Cal makes against your mouth as you massage him drive you deeper into the moment. With each passing second you fight the regret about still having your underwear and top on.

You’re feeling so dizzy and elated that you’ve completely forgotten who you’re playing with. You’re in the den of an Imperial Inquisitor. The kind of who is not known for his mercy or empathy.

“You should stay for the night,” Cal utters suddenly.

In a motion so quick and nimble that you didn’t think you’d have it in you, you’re up and away from Cal’s arms, heart drumming in your ears and panicking. Every breathe is a drag and your hair must be in upheaval. Your underpants are uncomfortably damp and the room feels chilly when Cal’s body is no longer warming you.

“S-stay? You mean like… I, uh, wouldn’t want to impose… on your…” Your eyes skim the Inquisitor’s almost naked frame in the dark. “Hospitality.”

Cal straightens up but you bounce away from the reach.

“What? You’re not imposing. I’ll make you coffee in the morning,” he says slyly, clearly not understanding what is going through your head.

You almost give in. Your very soul hurts as you shake your head. If he wants you to risk life and limb and stay, he will have to do better than high-end coffee and what presumably would’ve been the beginnings of amazing sex.

You grab your overalls and almost fall onto your nose trying to put them on as swiftly as possibly.

No, this is bad. Worse than what you should get yourself into.

“So, uhh, sorry! I’ll fix the bulb tomorrow!” You snag your shoes, tugging them under your arm and take the toolbox from the floor. With a free hand, you fumble for the button to open the door before Cal can retaliate. What were you even thinking? People who get too involved with the Inquisitors disappear and you wish to keep existing.

“Wha– Hold on!”

“Nope. Bye!” You wave as you tiptoe into the hallway, praying that it’s empty. It’d be fun explaining to a Stormtrooper why you’re barely dressed behind the Inquisitor’s door.

Cal stays sitting on the sofa in the dark, looking after you, pants halfway down and utterly confused. He cannot comprehend what he did wrong.

//

Tagging (please lmk if you want to be tagged or not! I probably forgot someone cause I couldn’t find the list anymore OTL): @europhiacs @froyuhh @sinner-effy @droidrights @annoyedguildmaster @mysteriouswritingzonthewall @boxfullofcats @maulblr @sevansheart

#cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #inquisitor cal kestis #inquisitor cal kestis x reader #jedi fallen order #swjfo #swjfo fanfiction #star wars #my writings #oc #ffxv oc

[vintagedolan]

Gone in the Night - Part 6

Schedule & Info || Masterlist

Summary: Panic has set in, and the little girl who terrified the trio may just be the key to everything

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: swearing, a lil spooky

In collaboration with: @babeygray @gothlydolan @dolansficsandpics @baby-grayson @333dolans  @dolanissues @blackpinkdolan​ and @fangdolan 

Tags: @brockdolan @livelaughlolobelle @grxysgxrl @guiltydols @graydolan12 @evergreendolan

“Go, go, Grayson, fucking go!” Ethan yelled, pushing his brother’s back through the doorway. Grayson grabbed onto Y/N, dragging her with him as the three of them hurtled into a new hallway and slammed the door shut behind them. The laughter faded behind them, but the eerie feeling remained as they caught their breath, holding onto each other.

“This is insane. Bro, we’ve gotta get out of here. We need to get downstairs, if we have any chance of finding an actual fucking door out of here before she comes back.”

When had they even gone upstairs? Y/N couldn’t remember, but she didn’t hesitate to head for the large staircase that seemed to appear before them, right on Grayson’s heels as they followed Ethan’s advice, scurrying down the stairs into a narrow hallway. It seemed to have withstood a bit less carnage than the other parts of the house, old portraits framing the walls, though there was still rotting carpet beneath their feet. She felt like the eyes of the painted figures were following her as she walked, and she had no shame in stepping a bit closer to Grayson as they moved. The boys tried each door handle they passed, unsurprised to find them locked.  

“How long have we even been in here? I don’t even remember which way the front door is. I mean, we-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Ethan cut him off.

“Bro, don’t-”

“No, shut the fuck up, listen. I think I hear something.” 

Ethan held up his hand to his twin in an effort to keep him quiet, tilting his ear to the side. Y/N moved with him, trying to pick up on whatever he was hearing.

“Is that… wind?” She asked, looking back at them. Sure, there had been plenty of drafts running through the walls of the old house, the cold spots when they turned the corners, and even the wind before. But this was different, louder than before and much, much closer. 

“If it’s that loud, there’s gotta be at least a window in there. Which means-”

“Outside!” Both the boys spoke at the same time, turning to her with wide eyes. It was the first real sign they’d seen of an escape in hours, and just the thought was enough to have everyone’s nerves buzzing. 

Grayson reached for the handle first, and on instinct her hand shot out to grab his arm. 

“Wait!” 

His hand moved on top of her and he turned back to her, brows furrowed. 

“It’s my turn to open a door. You all tried the last ones, it’s my turn.” 

With the inner workings of the house that they’d discovered so far, there was no telling what was going to happen when, and if, the door even opened. The last few they’d tried down the dingy hallway had been locked, but she had a gut feeling about this one, and so too did the boys it seemed. 

“No.” Grayson’s tone was stiff. “Too dangerous. That girl could be in there.”

“Oh but it’s not too dangerous for you to open it?”

He didn’t have a rebuttal, but he was still in front of her enough to effectively block her. 

“Grayson, just let me do it. I’ll check it out and you guys can wait out here in case we need to go back out, or our phones start acting stupid again or something.”

“If you think I’m letting you go through there by yourself, you’re insane.” He shifted then, moving to block her path even more. The protective tenor in his voice was new, and if she wasn’t trying to convince him of something, it probably would have been flattering. 

“Will somebody just open the damn door so we can get the fuck outta here?” Ethan huffed from behind both of them.

She capitalized on Grayson’s momentary distraction and slid past him to open the door, surprised when the handle actually turned. She looked around for anything dangerous, anything that could pop out at her or the boys. But it was eerily still, only the dingy decor left over from a decade passed there to greet her as she stepped inside.

“The wind stopped,” Ethan mumbled, peeking through the doorway. Grayson was one step behind her, hovering a bit as she made her way into the space, which was filled with an abundance of furniture; an old desk, a few dressers, two couches and a fireplace to the left with small figurines with beady eyes atop a wooden mantle.

“Maybe there's another clue in here. We should start looking in all these drawers.” 

Ethan pulled a harmonica off the mantle with a sly grin.

“Yo Beethoven, can you play this too? Maybe it’s the secret,” he wiggled his fingers in the air and threw Grayson the small rectangle. He caught it with an eye roll.

“Can you be serious for two fucking seconds Ethan? Some of us are actually trying to get out of here.”

“Oh and I’m not? You don’t think I’m going fucking crazy too?”

In any other instance, she may have interfered, or at least thought about it. But the boy’s jeers didn’t meet her ears. Instead, she focused on what she had found, in the left corner of the room. Hidden in the shadows above was a loft of sorts, in decent shape it seemed apart from the short ladder that only had one wrung left. 

“Hey.”

The bickering continued, somehow evolving to something involving her name.

“Hey!”

Both boys turned to her with wide eyes, looking more like twins than she’d ever realized.

“I think we need to get up there. Can you all boost me?”

Their eyes somehow got wider as they looked up at the loft and then back at her.

“Boost you? You think we’re just gonna send you up there by yourself?” Grayson’s voice was incredulous, amazed she’d even suggested it. 

“You got a better idea?”

“Uh how about you, I don’t know, not getting attacked by a little demon girl while we’re down here being useless? Besides, we don’t even know if there’s a clue up there.” Ethan mused.

“Well there sure as hell isn’t one down here. Just let me see what’s up there, and if anything happens I’ll just come to the edge and… I dunno, jump?” 

“Jump,” Ethan scoffed, at the same time that Grayson said “I’ll catch you.”

Still reluctant, but seeing no other option, the boys moved beside her, squatting down and moving to lift her with her standing in their cupped hands. She hoisted herself up, needing the help of them pushing her feet up to get a leg over and gain her bearings. 

“You good?” Grayson called, breathing out a relief when she responded, standing up and dusting off her pants.

“See anything? Any clues?”

“Not yet,” she mumbled, but something caught her eye. To the right, pushed back against the wall stood something tall, covered by a white sheet. She reached for it on instinct, coughing in the dust that rained down around her as she pulled it down, revealing an antique mirror. The reflection was crystal clear, untouched by time or the elements, golden frame still shiny. 

And in the reflection stood a girl.

She was young, 7 at the oldest, in a simple blue dress, a matching ribbon tied nicely at the end of her braided brown hair. Y/N didn’t have to think - she knew it was the same girl that they’d heard in the last room, but she didn’t feel threatened by her. If anything, her maternal instincts took over, and she wanted to help her in any way that she could. 

“Do you want to go?” Her voice was small, tinkling like bells. 

“Do I want to go where?

Below, Grayson stopped chewing his lip, perking an ear up towards the direction that Y/N had disappeared out of view.

“Y/N? You say something?”

“I want you to go with me. I need to show you something,” the girl spoke again, turning to look over her shoulder. It was only then that Y/N realized that the mirror was no longer showing any of the room around her, but instead, a new hallway. It was normal, a spitting image of what the house looked like 100 years ago, with its pristine walls and its colorful carpets. 

“I can’t go with you, I can’t leave my friends here,” she said.

“Y/N? Hey, who are you talking to? Come over here where we can see you!” Grayson was truly beginning to panic now, and Ethan was just as worried, unsure of what to do but stand close to his brother. 

“If you go with me, I’ll bring you back. And I’ll show you how to get out. I promise. But you have to go with me. You have to see.”

“Y/N! Talk to me dammit!” Grayson’s voice was dangerously loud now.

She wanted to run to the edge, to look down at her friends and tell them what she was doing, but it would be no use. They’d just try to stop her, and she knew deep down that the girl wouldn’t trust anyone but her. 

“Okay. Show me.”

“You must stay quiet.”

The girl reached her hand out, and suddenly Y/N was falling. 

It was split second of limbo, and then she was on her feet again, only this time the floor below her didn’t creak, and the carpet was soft beneath her sneakers. It didn’t smell putrid anymore, but instead the remnants of a meal cooked in the kitchen warmed her nose. 

“Charlotte! Come quickly darling.” A voice called out, and to her disbelief Y/N realized she was in the mirror, in a different time, or dimension, or universe. She had no choice but to follow the young girl - Charlotte, it seemed - through the corridors until they made it to a living room of sorts, where a piano sat in the corner. It was vaguely familiar to her, but she didn’t have long to analyze it.

“That’s Papa.” Charlotte spoke out, pointing over to a chair on the other side of the room. Within it sat a tall man with a full face, a nicely groomed beard adorning his chin, and a warm smile.

If it wasn’t for the outfit, Y/N wouldn’t have been able to place him. But the ghost of it was there in his features, and her stomach tightened as she recognized the vest top, with the stripes and the white shirt beneath it. 

She was staring right at the man who’d gotten them into this mess - the one with the tickets - only it was a version of him tucked away in time, however many years ago.

“You had to see that he means well. All he ever wanted was to be entertained. That’s why he brings people here. Why he always has.” 

Y/N looked then, at the other people in the room. She’d hardly noticed them before, but as she scanned them over she caught up on details, snippets of conversation. A man with a large sword he was prepared to swallow, a pianist with sheet music tucked under his elbow. Another man who swore to be a vampire - the kind who could turn into a bat, in particular - and a woman who could tell you any line of any book without having to open the front cover. An artist with paint smudges on her hands, who swore her paintings could come to life.

The clues. She began to piece it together slowly, looking down at Charlotte. 

“Papa is a good person. Please don’t think too harshly of him, it’s all he knows how to do.”

“Charlotte. I’d like to go back now.”

Suddenly, every set of eyes in the room were on her. She’d spoken, and that had been a terrible mistake. She knew she had to run, but she didn’t know where to go, how to get back to the mirror she’d come from. They were chasing her, no doubt, and she didn’t have the guts to look back. 

“Grayson! Ethan!” She screamed their names, a faint hope that maybe, somewhere, they could hear her.

Little did she know that the boys back in her own time had managed to drag an old table into the room, giving Grayson just enough leverage to get up to the loft, where he tried to ignore the tears prickling in his eyes at the realization that she was no longer there with him. 

She ran as fast as her feet would take her, trying to retrace her steps as best she could remember. Somehow, her ears registered the sound of an odd melody, a harsh tune played out by an unfamiliar instrument.

A harmonica. 

Thank god for Ethan Dolan’s foolish nature.

She sprinted towards the sound, relieved to find a familiar enough door to barrel through. She didn’t care that someone was in there - all she cared about was getting back up to the loft and back to the mirror, the portal, whatever it was. To her relief the frame stood tall and still where she’d last seen it and she threw herself at it without a hesitation.

And then, she was in Grayson’s arms. 

“Woah, woah, what the fuck? Hey, you’re okay, it’s okay, where the fuck did you just come from?” The string of disbeliefs continued to fall from his lips but all she could do was cling to his neck and bury her face in his chest. 

“I was - and there was - and - oh god, Grayson, we’ve gotta get outta here. You’ve gotta get me out of here.”

“Okay, hey, you’re safe now, I’ve got you. Just breathe, I’m right here,” he said, holding her tighter to him, beyond relieved to have her back in his sights. In the back of her mind as she started to process that she was safe again, she ran through what she had seen, what she’d told herself to remember. The one person whose clue they hadn’t run into yet.

The woman with the paint on her hands.

“The portraits. We’ve gotta go to the portraits.”

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

check out part 7 tomorrow, posted by @dolanissues !

#dolan twins #dolan twins series #dolan twins fanfiction #halloween fanfiction #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE

[levi-inthesun]

Loving Someone

This is for @stuckonjbbarnes​ writing challenge with the song Loving Someone by The 1975. 

Summary: In order to protect your heart, you made up the “only fuck once” rule, dictating that you could not sleep with the same person more than once. Then Carol Danvers comes back to the compound, to stay. Will this rule bite you in the ass?

Warnings: Swearing, references to smut, dirty talk?

Paring: Carol x Reader

A/N- I did not edit this.... so sorry

“What are you doing tonight?” Sam asked as you both slowed to an easy jog.

“Probably just gonna go the bar,” you reply easily.

Sam stops abruptly, “How long are you going to stay in denial?” There isn’t any malice or bite to his words, just genuine concern and it makes you feel uneasy. You make some non-committal noise instead of answering and finish jogging to the doors of the compound. 

You do your best to avoid Sam the rest of the day, which wasn’t too difficult until it’s time for you to leave for your favorite bat. Except Sam is standing by the door, dressed and ready to go. As you approach, Sam has that look in his eyes and you know you cannot convince him to stay home unless you stay home tonight. 

“You driving or are we getting an uber?” You ask, throwing your cropped leather jacket on. 

“I’ll drive,” Sam decides, grabbing a random set of keys and you both make your way to the garage.

The bar is only slightly packed, which is, in your humble opinion, optimal. You like to have room to breathe, more specifically though, room to dance with whatever woman consents. 

You skip over to the bar and order a rum and coke and chat with your favorite bartender and Sam watches from a booth he’s claimed. 

“You know, you are a lot less closed off here,” he casually says while throwing a peanut into his mouth. 

“Are you just going to therapize me the entire night?” You (semi) joke.

Sam shrugs and you take a long sip of your drink before moving towards the dancing people.

The night went on how every weekend-night goes. You get pleasantly buzzed/on the edge of drunk, dance with hot women, and eventually, go to either your place or their place where you will (hopefully) ravish each other. 

~

You wake up slowly, a faint pressure on your hip. You hear the woman behind you breathe deeply before stretching gently.

“Morning,” she says softly, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder. “I’d love to stay for breakfast, er,” she looks at her phone. “Lunch but I’ve got a meeting later.” 

You nod and watch her hop around throwing her clothes back on. “I’m just gonna use the bathroom then I’ll be out of your hair,” she says, watching as you sit up and the sheet pools around your waist.

You raise an eyebrow in reply.

Once she’s left (with her phone number written on your mirror with the lipstick she was wearing last night), you throw on a pair of sweats and one of Sam’s shirts before making your way out to the kitchen.

“She was cute,” Sam says, throwing something in the microwave.

You hum in agreement and look through the fridge, eventually settling on an apple. 

“Oh, we’ve got a meeting at 3,” Sam informs you. “Captain Marvel is back in town and she has some stuff she needs to brief us on.”

“Captain Marvel is a woman, huh?” You ask Sam, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.

“You do know that not everyone is bisexual, right?” Sam teases. He grabs his bag of popcorn out of the microwave and starts to walk out of the kitchen before turning back. “Uh, maybe don’t have a one night stand with our teammate?”

~~

You are ready to crawl into a hole or have the earth open up and eat you.

“Hey, Y/N,” Carol greets you, a mischievous glint in her light brown eyes. 

“Oh, fuck me,” you whisper before composing yourself. “Hey, Carol,” you say, shaking her hand. 

“I already did,” Carol states, voice low, before switching gears to get the meeting started. 

The entire meeting is spent trying to listen to Carol talk about possible issues outside of the earth’s orbit, but really you just end up staring, flashes from last night taking over when she moves a certain way. The other part is spent sending death glares at Sam and Bucky who are having the time of their lives at your misery.

Carol excuses herself to take a call and you lean forward, finger-pointing at the men across from you.

“You knew!” You whisper scream, “You couldn’t have warned me? What the hell?” 

Sam grins, “I just… Listen, I was going to when I realized it was Carol, but then I remembered that it is 5 million times more fun watching you suffer.”

Bucky cocks his head to the side, “Wait, did you hook up with Carol?”

“Some spy you are,” you grumble as Carol walks back in, a slight frown on her face.

“Apparently I’m grounded for the next… well,” Carol pauses, taking a deep breath, “foreseeable future.”

Sam and Bucky high-five under the table, then volunteer you to show Carol around. 

~

After showing Carol around the compound you decided you needed to go out again tonight. During the tour, Carol was extremely flirty, which was welcomed- except for the fact that she was a teammate and not a one night stand. To avoid her, you spent the rest of the day hiding in your room and searching your closet for the perfect outfit to wear. You ended up in a crop top with high waisted, wide-legged pants, and after checking yourself in the mirror you walked out of your room with your head held high. Luckily no one was in the kitchen and you were able to leave the compound without anyone noticing, or so you thought.

The club was vibrating with energy as patrons drank too much and danced as much as they could. You downed a shot at the bar then headed into the crowd. At the heart of the masses, you threw your hands in the air and danced, not caring who with. Soon a pair of large hands gripped your hips. Turning your head to the side, you glanced up at the beautiful man before leaning your body into his. Time was non-existent as you danced with the man and you were positive the feeling of his hand on your waist was burned into your skin.  

“You want to get out of here,” he asked, lips at the shell of your ear and voice low. 

“I’d rather stay here and dance for a little while longer. That good with you?” You replied eyebrow raised.

Instead of saying anything, he rolled his eyes and walked away, attaching those large hands to some other woman.

You rolled your eyes and sighed as you headed back to the bar and ordered a beer. You sat down and took a long drag from the bottle before popping some peanuts into your mouth. A remix of your favorite song came on, causing you to down the rest of the bottle before heading back into the throng.

You moved your own body with the mix of bodies around you, circling your hips, running your fingers through your hair. You saw a familiar hand slip around your middle and in your alcohol-induced haze, you thought it would be a good idea to test fate.

Lips crashed together as you both got out of the taxi and headed towards the compound. 

“Wait,” you cautioned, “ Gotta make sure no one is up.”

“It’s 3 am, Y/N,” Carol countered, “Who is going to be up?”

You chuckled before heading into the common area, Carol trailing behind you. When you found everything dark and empty, Carol’s voice cut through the silence.

“FRIDAY, are any of our teammates up?”

“No,” FRIDAYS voice replied, volume lowered for how late early it was, “All Avengers except you and Y/N Y/L/N are asleep.”

A mischievous look took over Carol’s features as she stalked towards you, causing you to back into a couch, almost falling over the back of it.

Carol quickly caught you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing her lips to your neck with open-mouthed kisses, causing a low moan to escape you. She then traced her tongue from the pulse point below your jaw over to your mouth. 

“You’ve gotta be quiet, baby,” Carol teased, voice low. “If you can do that, I’ll reward you by taking you to my room and fucking you so hard you can’t help but scream.”

A soft whimper left your lips and you nodded, crashing your lips against hers.

~

When you woke up, the first thing you realized was that you were alone in Carol’s bed. You quickly looked around, finding her room empty.

“God damnit,” you muttered to yourself. “I was supposed to go to the club and find  someone else to sleep with.” 

Your muttering continued as climbed out of her bed to find your clothes scattered throughout her quarters.

You didn’t notice right away when Carol walked back in, giving her the opportunity to admire your half-dressed form. 

You were about to put your bra on when you noticed her, leaning up against her desk with two mugs of coffee in hand. Her lips turned up in a smirk as she saw what she thought looked a lot like relief flood over you. 

Standing there, bra hanging around your middle, still staring at the gorgeous woman you’ve slept with twice now, you were overwhelmed with confusion. You quickly shook your head and fixed your bra and Carol pushed off the desk towards you.

“Thought you might want some coffee,” she said, handing it over.

“After last night I’ll probably need a pint,” you whispered, taking a sip.

“What was that?” Carol asked eyebrow raised. 

You coughed and looked up at her before clearing your throat. “Uh, I just said I’d probably need a pint after last night.”

Carol smiled, “And why is that?”

“Seriously, Carol? Do you need to hear me say it?” you asked. 

“Yes,” she replied simply. “Say it.”

You set the coffee down on the nearest flat surface before stepping closer to her. “I need a goddamn pint of coffee because you fucked me into almost every surface of your room until I couldn’t form a coherent sentence.”

“And I’ll do it anytime you’d like,” she told you, voice husky.

You quickly cleared your throat, then located your shirt and headed towards the door. “I wouldn’t count on it,” you did your best to keep your voice even. “I rarely sleep with the same person more than once.”

~

You spent the following weeks avoiding Carol unless absolutely necessary, which included going to a different bar and staying more sober than you normally would, just to make sure you didn’t accidentally end up back in her arms bed. 

“You’ve been drinking less,” Bucky stated with a questioning look on his face.

“And what’s that to ya, bionicle boy?” you responded, taking another bite of leftover pasta.

Bucky shrugged, “ Just curious. I-”

“Not just curious,” Sam interrupted, walking out from around the corner. “There are very few things that can get you to drink less. So what is it?”

You huffed and was about to deny them when Carol walked in, sweaty from the gym. She greeted you and you smiled in response, then did your best to not watch the bead of sweat trail down her neck. 

You sighed inwardly when she walked out of the kitchen.

Sam and Bucky shared a look before narrowing in on you. 

“You just sighed,” Bucky accused, “What happened between you and Carol?”

“I bet I know,” Sam said. “I bet you slept with Carol a second time, breaking your only fuck once rule.”

You tried to interrupt Sam, but he wouldn’t let you.

“BUT! Not only that, you have a crush on her,” he finished. 

“I do not!” You exclaimed, trying to sound annoyed. 

“Your voice just went up an octave,” Bucky observed, “Which means you are lying.”

“What do you have to say about that?” Sam questioned.

You could feel your face heat up and you jumped off the counter. “I’d say,” you turn to them, legitimately annoyed now, “That it’s none of your business.”

Instead of stomping off to your room, you walked out the front door and headed in whatever direction your feet took you, ending up at a park. Taking a deep breath you sat down on a nearby bench and let your head fall back so you were looking up at the sky. You stayed like that for a while, just watching the soft clouds roll by, mind empty. 

At least, it was empty until you looked up and saw two women holding hands, watching their kid go down the slide. 

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself. 

You thought about what Bucky and Sam had accused you of, and you knew they were right. You had a big ole’ fat crush on Carol Danvers, fucking Captain Marvel, the woman who played your body better than anyone ever had. That’s when memories flooded your mind.

Memories about people from your past who you had cared deeply for, and who all betrayed your heart. The last one was just after you dropped out of college, right before the Avengers recruited you. After her, you swore you’d never care for anyone in that way ever again. It was just easier that way. Except, when you looked back up at the couple, you felt a heavy loneliness come over you filled with a special kind of pain.  

You looked away and your eyes caught on a woman who looked too much like Carol. You rolled your eyes before scrubbing your hands over your face. 

“Y/N?” Carol’s voice called out, causing you to tear your eyes from a spot on the sidewalk, surprise etched into your features. “I was looking for you when Sam told me you walked off, upset. He said you’d probably be here.”

“Oh,” you said quietly. 

Carol took that as an invitation to sit down next to you, allowing some space between. 

“I was looking for you because I am fed up with you avoiding me,” She stated. “I’ve been tired of it for about a while now, actually.” 

You let your eyes slide over to the woman next to you, eyeing her carefully. 

“Another reason I came looking for you is because I was worried about you,” she said softly. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Well, I’m fine,” you said far too quickly. 

“Obviously,” Carol chuckled. 

You were both quiet for a few beats too long when Carol spoke up again.

“It would be easy for me to be upset with how you’ve been treating me without acknowledging something probably happened to cause you to react like this,” she said, “So, I’ll just say this once and leave the ball in your court.” She turned her body towards yours and your body turned all on its own to face her. “It sucks that someone, or multiple someones, hurt you so badly in your past that you’ve decided to make your ‘only fuck once’ rule, all to avoid developing any sort of connection or feelings for anybody ever again. It seems like your rule to avoid connection is hurting you more than you thought it would, so I know there’s hope,” Carol stood up abruptly to stand in front of you. 

“You should be loving someone,” she finally said. “Just, fucking let yourself love someone.” 

You sat there staring at her, heart beating out of your chest because you knew she was right. You stayed silent because you were scared of how much you have already started falling for her, and you were searching for the right thing to say. 

Carol hung her head in defeat before turning to walk back down the path she came, pausing like she wanted to say something else, but changed her mind and began walking away from you. 

~

“Carol?!” You called as you walked into the common room, “Carol! Where are you?” 

“Can you stop yelling,” a gruff voice pleaded from the couch. “She’s not here.” 

“Do you know where she is?” you asked, “Buck, I need to find her.”

“I think she went to a bar,” Bucky said with a sigh, realizing he wasn’t going to be able to continue napping. 

“Thanks!” You said, running towards your room to change your clothes. 

~

You had gotten FRIDAY to disclose which bar Carol was at, and sped through New York traffic on your bike, getting there in record time. 

As you walked in, your eyes scanned the room looking for her. You walked over to the bar to ask the bartender if they’d seen her, and they pointed to the far side of the room. You looked her over, noticing how she was leaning up against the wall, talking to some gorgeous woman. It reminded you of the last time you slept together, how sexy she looked leaning up against her desk. 

The song changed to Loving Someone by the 1975, bringing you back into the present. You watched her for a moment longer, gathering your courage when she looked past the woman in front of her and locked eyes with you. A smile tugged at her lips giving you the courage you needed to close the distance. You saw her say something to the woman who waved her off before she met you halfway. 

You both stopped in the middle of the bar and she looked to you expectantly.

“You were right,” you admitted. “I made that stupid rule to try to protect my heart and I think I honestly caused it to break too many times.”

Carol raised an eyebrow, urging you to continue.

You let out a sigh, “Aaaand I like you and that scares me,” you admitted.

Carol smiled, “Well, then can I buy you a drink?” 

You shook your head, pulling the keys out of your pocket, “I’m good. You wanna go for a ride?” 

Carol’s smile stretched further over her lips and she nodded, so you took her hand and walked out of the bar.

#dani250 #carol danvers #carol danvers fanfiction #carol danvers fanfic #carol danvers x reader #carol x reader #reader insert #Captain Marvel #captain marvel fanfic #captain marvel fanfiction #the avengers #The avengers fanfiction #The Avengers fanfic #carol danvers smut

[samwrights]

Blackout

I am SO sorry this took me so long! With everything going on with me, writing was kind of a struggle, but I had so much fun writing this one. Reader is wild. We love reader. This fic was inspired by all the songs I used to listen to while getting ready to go out in college which include: Blackout by Breathe Carolina, Wild Boy by MGK, Wild for the Night by A$AP Rocky, and Trashwang by Tyler, The Creator so if you wanna get in the mood, I’d put those on.

Warnings: Alcohol (a lot of it), passing mentions of marijuana and nicotine, semi-mutual pining(?) and of course, Language. Also platonic Oikawa & Reader.

Word Count: 5.3k

There was no better feeling than being reunited with all of your best friends at university after a long summer filled with family vacations and a part time job to try to save money while you were away. It was the strange lull between summer and the start of classes that you looked forward to every year in which you still had time to socialize with everyone without the worry of your ever piling assignments or having to commute hours between cities—everyone was gathered in one place.

It was your favorite time of the year and there was no other feeling that could compare.

Not being so drunk that you had every bit of confidence that you could possibly muster pumping through your veins.

Not being so high that your body felt it was moving on it’s own.

Not even learning that the dude you’d been so in love with since the start of university is just as in love with you as you are with him.

But considering you had no idea what the last feeling felt like, you could only hope for the first two to come in at full force tonight.

Tonight was the party of the school year and it was the one thing you looked forward to in the brutal, lingering August days. At the moment, you were fresh out the shower with all of your inhibitions and leg hair down the drain, your hair wrapped in a towel turban as you slathered lotion over your already drying skin. Your speakers are blaring a myriad of different hip-hop artists in your room, drowning out the fact that your roommates were doing the exact same thing in their own spaces. The thought brought a smile to your face considering the almost clashing yet complementary personalities between you and your roommates.

Kiyoko was so incredibly blunt and straightforward. Yachi was so shy, even as she entered university with all of her own friends from Karasuno. Yukie, being the house mom of your apartment, and Kaori too—everyone knew what was happening tonight and everyone was doing their own ritual to get ready for a night they would most likely never remember. Regardless of how similar or how different you all were, this night warranted one communal ritual: roommate check.

As the five of you got ready, each of you would check each other’s make up, outfits, and shoes to make sure there was zero chance of being a social faux-pas. It was a strange, unspoken rule in the apartment that you all made sure each of you left the house being at optimal hotness, but it was an incredible confidence booster, especially if one of you were able to land a sexy, one night stand. It was the goal. Best friends don’t let each other leave the house looking less than their prime.

“What do we think ladies?” You could hear Kaori let herself into the hallway, prompting you to pause Lizzo and open your bedroom door. The ash brunette had her hair down and straight, framing her done up face nicely. Without too much face products on, the former Fukurodani manager allowed her freckles to show through the tinted moisturized, accenting it with a light dusting of blush. Her onyx eyes were left alone, save for winged liner sharp enough to stab any weak man that dared approach her and a few coats of mascara on her top and bottom lashes.

“Approve,” you and Yukie chimed simultaneously. From what you could tell, the other Tokyo native was still in the middle of doing her own make up.

“Looks good!” Yachi chirped, while Kiyoko gave a nod of approval with a soft smile on her supple lips before retreating to her and the former’s shared room. You did the same, carrying on with your own look, absentmindedly lip singing to whatever song popped up on your hype playlist. While you were excited, the music barreling into your ear drum was the only way to distract your thoughts from wandering while you focus on blending out your eyeshadow. That, and the two chimes that rang in rapid succession signaling a text, worked pretty well too. 

Yaku: You’re coming tonight, right?!

A force of breath leaves your nostrils in laughter as you send a progress shot of your look. Yaku Morisuke was a very close friend you’d met through high school, in addition to being the Nekoma volleyball manager, and there was one thing that Yaku knew better than anyone. You didn’t wear false lashes for any reason unless you were trying to get it.

Yaku: I’ll take that as a yes.

You’re the last one to call your check with your roommates—a regular occurrence, really, considering you always took the longest to get ready. For good reason, of course. “Check!” You called out as your heels clacked against the hardwood of your apartment’s hallway. Sporting a heather grey cropped halter top and high-waisted black leather pants, the girls gave their approval with a bit of hesitation.

“Are you sure you want to wear heels?” Kiyoko asked for the third time as everyone packed a spare bag filled with extra clothes that you would put in Yaku’s room later. After the first year, the five of you started to come prepared. The beach bag that was used carried painkillers for impending headaches, two sets comfy clothes in the event some of you couldn’t quite make it home, swimsuits in case someone decided to go drunk swimming, and a spare set of party clothes. This was not your first rodeo, by any means. It was a stroke of luck that the five of you could share clothes as well and as often as you did.

“Don’t worry, they’re not that tall and they’re actually pretty comfy.” And you knew the bag was at capacity, not warranting the ability for you to bring spare shoes anyway.

“Then I think we’re ready to go!” Kaori jeers, elated to see everyone just as much as you were. Kiyoko leads the group, Yachi in tow with her, and Kaori is all but sprinting towards the house, leaving you and Yukie to head up the rear.

“You know,” the former Fukurodani manager sings in her humorous lilt, “Kuroo is going to lose his shit when he sees you.”

“I hope so.”

When it came to one of these mega parties, there was no such thing as being early or fashionably late. There couldn’t be when there was twenty people living in one house and, no, that was not an exaggeration. Supposedly that’s what happened when a bunch of college boys who all used to play volleyball together at some point in time attend the same university—they rent a mansion for the next four years. With dozens of people living under one roof, it was no surprise that the music was already wracking the foundation of the house even from the outside.

Without so much as a knock to the door, the five of you entered the house, immediately being bombarded with a joyous yell from the former Fukurodani captain and ace, Bokuto Koutarou. “Hey guys, the girls are here!” You always found it amusing that, for someone as popular as Bokuto, the five of you were dubbed as the girls. Which made sense considering all of you were club managers at some point or another. Of your old team, Yaku and Lev flock over immediately, the two of them wrapping and squeezing you into a tight hug. The three of you briefly exchanged greetings, questioning how the other’s summer was before silently asking Kiyoko for the beach bag that held your group’s spare belongings.

“Could one of you just stuff this in your room?” Though you hadn’t nominated anyone, you shoved the bag in Lev’s awaiting hands.

“You sleeping over?” He asks, peeking through the open top. Yaku rebukes him immediately, telling him it was rude to go through a woman’s bag.

“Nah, remember how bad I blacked out last year? I just wanted to make sure I brought extra stuff so I don’t have to steal one of your guys’ shirts agains.” The former libero shakes his head before covering his face with one hand.

“[name], please don’t make me look after you again tonight.” The sandy brunette pleads.

“I make no promises, Yaku.” You chirp before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek and entering the massive living room that had been cleared to act as a dance floor. By how many people greet you, you aren’t even sure if you know half the people in here at the moment. There are a few familiar faces of Karasuno alumni, you recognize the DJ as some kid in a class you had last year—he went to Aoba Johsai if you remembered correctly—and Yukie and Kaori are already on the dance floor with all eyes on them. They beckoned for you to join them, red solo cups already in their hands in the air.

“You’re going to want this,” you look up to see Bokuto who had temporarily abandoned his duty playing host to hand you your own drink. Cautiously, you take a sip as his gold eyes watched, waiting for the green light.

Sometimes, Bokuto tended to get carried away with the amount of alcohol he put in the punch. Thankfully, this was not one of those batches.

“Thanks, Bo!” Is all you call out before joining your two other Tokyo friends on the dance floor. From behind them, you can see other party goers honing in on them, completely oblivious to the men doing the same to you. For a moment, however brief it may be, none of it matters as you feel the pounding bass takeover your own heartbeat, squealing with your girls as remixes of old songs that piqued your nostalgia played over the sound system. You take another swig of your drink, already killing your first one of the early night, crinkling the plastic in your hand as you gently squeeze the empty cup so you don’t let go of it. You’re squeezing and squeezing subconsciously until it’s taken out of your hand, making you turn around swiftly because who the fuck—

“Need another?”

“Kuroo!” Before your brain can react and stop you, your arms are around the object of your affection’s neck in a tight embrace, you legs coming off the ground and your skintight leather pants sticking to the back of your knees. Still holding your cup, the old Nekoma captain grins down at you when you release him, gently nudging with his chin towards the direction of the kitchen. The two of you weave and wobble your way through the masses with you walking ahead of him, allowing Kuroo to appreciate the view of your backside. The way your top hit flattered your shoulders well, but the leather pants. The goddamn leather pants were just doing it for him. Joining others crowding around the twenty gallon cooler that Bokuto used to mix and house the alcohol for the night, Kuroo makes it a point to keep close to you.

“When did you show up?” The black-haired man asks as he ladles some liquid out into your cup, making sure to avoid ice cubes.

“Probably ten minutes ago,” you weren’t sure—time was a foreign concept at a party. The captain eyes you almost worriedly, knowing you had a tendency of pushing yourself well past your limits when it came to alcohol.

“And you’re already on your second,” Kuroo lets out a whistle, “better take it easy, princess. Don’t want a repeat of last year.”

“Jokes on you, I don’t even remember last year!” Unable to come up with a witty retort, the middle blocker rolls his eyes before knocking back the rest of the beer in his bottle and grabbing another one. He remembers. He remembers, and he wishes that he didn’t because he didn’t need another memory that contributed to you being the one that got away, despite how close you were.

It’s a little disorienting for you to see him this way, sometimes, so grown that he can down ale like it’s water when back in high school he would hound the team to ensure they were properly nurturing their bodies. It was disorienting to see someone you were once so close with grow right before your eyes. The thought softened your heart for a moment until you realized you were probably staring and you should probably stop before Kuroo thinks you’re weird. You chug half your drink the second the raven-haired man hands it to you, hoping the alcohol would ease your nerves. “What did Bokuto use?” You ask wearily, not tasting an ounce of a burn.

“Everclear, of course.” Oh. Well, fuck. 

“Here’s to me dying tonight.” You hold your cup out towards Kuroo, waiting for him to touch his bottle to it. When he didn’t, and just looked at you thoroughly nonplussed, you shrugged before downing the rest of its contents.

“[name]...” his voice comes as a warning, even more so when you grab another helping for yourself and immediately bringing the rim to your lips.

“Honey, I’m here for a good time, not a long time.” Kuroo watches as you flee back towards the dance floor, rejoining Yukie and Kaori. He doesn’t miss the way your teeth shine in different colors from party lights as you grin. Or the way your firm grip on the cup is similar to that of your mission of getting plastered tonight—unyielding. He doesn’t miss that Seijoh fuck that’s honing in on you from behind. He doesn’t miss the way his hands are firmly planting themselves on your leather-clad hips and he certainly doesn’t miss that you don’t fight him off in the slightest.

Sucking on his teeth, Kuroo knocks back a full bottle of beer without skipping a beat before tossing the glass in the recycling bin and rummaging through his kitchen cupboards. There’s no way Bokuto used all nine—aha! He thinks to himself, finding a fifth of Everclear that was supposed to be used to replenish the jungle juice after it had been killed. Immediately, Kuroo pulls the fresh bottle to his lips, draining a decent amount of its contents into his system each time he sees this guy whispering in your ear. He doesn’t miss the way you’re smiling as he does so.

“It’s so nice to see you, [name]!” Contrary to popular belief and unpopular opinion, Oikawa Tōru isn’t that bad of a person. Sure, he had a big reputation on campus, but that never stopped the two of you from becoming friends. To be perfectly honest, it was a wonder the two of you weren’t friends sooner.

There was no other man in the known universe that matched your party energy because no man ever carried the desire to get as publicly obliterated as you and the former Fukurodani managers did. Unlike the other men that were enrolled at this university, Oikawa didn’t care to find some target of a hook up at parties—he’d rather do that sober, maybe take a girl out for a nice, ritzy dinner. Parties were for blacking out and hearing the crazy shit you did for the next three months and living with your name in infamy; that was your guys’ philosophy and you were sticking to it.

Because of this principle, Oikawa often uses you as a hook up repellent to deter unwanted attention and you do the same because there was only one person you ever wanted at these types of shindigs. One person that, regardless of the two of you knowing each other since the first year of high school, never seemed to want to be this kind of close to you. You tried to pretend that it didn’t hurt; that someone you knew for so long and that you unearthed your feelings for two years ago wouldn’t want to press his body to yours and claim his territory. In your mind, he was partially the reason you carried the mentality that you may as well just blackout and try to have fun. In a twisted way it worked, considering how bad you got last year.

And that person, after greeting you for a few minutes, always seemed to end up in hoards and swarms of women you didn’t know. Kuroo was always caught up doing his own thing at his own pace. It shouldn’t have bothered you, considering he was one of the hosts, but a small part of you that was full of envy just never could let it go. Which seemed to regularly bring you into the hands of Oikawa Tōru. “I missed you too, Oiks!” You tell over the pounding music. The brunette is laughing and smiling as offers cheers to you, taking a swig of whatever cheap beer he had in his cup.

You have no idea how long you’re dancing for—all you know that song after song is keeping you alive and the number of drinks a mystery. But after Oikawa returns with your cup replenished, the heat from the swarm of sweaty bodies in addition to the alcohol erasing your logic, you decide you need a break. Without saying anything, not that the former Seijoh captain would have been able to hear you anyway, you point in the direction of the patio just beyond the connected sliding door. When he shakes his head, you wriggle your way through the sweltering crowd before all but skipping out the sliding door, letting the mild summer night air cool down your skin.

Not surprisingly, Yaku is outside with a few others that preferred not to be swamped by the masses, including your other two roomates. Save for one very familiar face that you’d hadn’t even realized was here tonight. “Yamamoto!” You yell, immediately sprinting over to him to tackle him, accidentally knocking the lit cigarette betwixt his lips down to the concrete of the patio.

“[name]! You crazy son of bitch, I missed you!” Everyone is full laughters and smiles, sharing stories of their summers and reminiscing of the previous parties that occurred in this very same mansion. To some degree, you were thankful you weren’t the only person that got buck wild at these events. Two years ago, Oikawa, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa had shown up with bulk amounts of powdered Kool-aid mix and dumped it into the hot tub in an attempt to “dye the water red”. Or so they claimed. Apparently, Kool-aid and chlorine don’t mix well.

Needless to say, Yaku was pissed about it.

In that same year, Lev knocked over the famed cooler fifty gallon cooler that was once the home for Bokuto’s even more infamous jungle juice. Note to all future party holders, Hawaiian Punch stains all carpets, regardless of color, if there’s enough of it. Especially monsoons of it. Akaashi learned that the hard way when he was the one who had to make the phone call to get the hallway re-carpeted and the floorboards underneath had to be replaced as well due to moisture. Thank you, Hawaiian Punch. Which was why there was now always at least one person—Akaashi himself, due to the trauma from two years ago—who guards the smaller cooler with his life. Nobody is knocking that over ever again and if they do, he’ll send them an invoice in addition to slicing off their head.

Then there was your infamous blackout from last year. While you, obviously, remember nothing about it, Yaku made sure to recount every detail possible. The last thing you remember was chugging a bottle of Jägermeister. 

You hate Jägermesiter.

According to Yaku, at some point you started taking cutlery out of the drawer in the kitchen and going into each of the rooms and hiding silverware in different spaces. Nothing was off limits—whether someone was in the middle of getting a blowjob or hiding forks in people’s shoes. You also had decided to try to climb on top of Lev’s shoulders so you could see what it was like to be tall. Try, in the sense that Lev was entirely unwilling and refused to crouch down for you, resulting in you falling off of him and ripping his shirt off to keep balance.

Yaku’s favorite moment, and that is entirely satirical, is when you started a fight with Bokuto. Not only had you thrown your few cigarette butts from social smoking that you had inherently participated into the punch to “claim your territory”, but he, Yaku, and Kuroo were so worried when they saw you reach to drink the contaminated jungle juice that the former Fukurodani captain had tried to take your cup from you and just have you sleep it off in Kuroo’s room. Which, in all fairness, you did. However, if you were going to go, you were going to go down swinging.

Literally.

As soon as the cup was out of your hand, Kuroo had to physically restrain you from punching Bokuto in the face as you screamed that you were one hundred percent sober. Unfortunately, Kuroo’s grip slipped, mostly due to your squirming and thrashing, and you had landed a solid blow on Bokuto’s cheek. Needless to say, the three boys had to all but detain you and leave you with a babysitter—a position that Kuroo ended up volunteering for.

You wished you could have remembered at least that part of it. Only Kuroo knows what and if anything happened between the two of you that night, but he refused to ever speak about that night.

Recalling last year’s events prompted Yaku to remind you one more time this evening, “I am not fucking babysitting you again tonight, [name].”

“Technically, Kuroo babysat me.” You jeer as you stick your tongue out at the former libero before smashing the remaining contents of your cup. After your last seven drinks, you were a solid level of drunk to the point of still being coherent, but the ground was definitely moving in ways it shouldn’t have been. “Speaking of which, where is my favorite rooster?”

“Oh he’s been in the pool for the last like hour.” From the patio, your head snaps over as if to confirm it. But seeing Kuroo, hunched over alone with a half full bottle of Henny in his hand while he sat at the steps leading him into the water was not how you pictured you’d find the former captain. Normally, he would surrounded with potential suitors hanging off his arms and cracking jokes just to see if he could get lucky for the night. Yet, everything in his body language screamed “leave me be!”

And yet, you were you.

“I’m gonna go join him—“

“Wait, [name],” Yaku grabs your wrist before you can flit off to his room to change into the swimsuit you had brought, “I really don’t think he wants company right now.”

“That’s when people most need it!” Managing to wriggle out of the libero’s grasp, you made your way inside, weaving and bobbing between the partygoers with an expertise that you shouldn’t have had in the moment thanks to how much you drank. Or maybe you didn’t actually have at all, considering you tripped up the stairs a couple times. Maybe heels weren’t the best idea, but you managed to make it to Lev and Yaku’s shared room—the third door on the left. Knocking just to be sure, you were greeted with a relatively tidy room and the beach bag Kiyoko had brought sitting on top of the libero’s neatly made bed.

After slipping into the two piece and grabbing the beach towel someone had thought to bring, you retraced your steps, barefoot this time thankfully, before popping out the back door and joining Kuroo on the steps. For a moment, he looks up at you and you can see him fully. His hair is hanging over his face, as per usual, but rather than covering his usual jovial hazel eyes, they’re masking something darker. Even in the dead August night with only soft porch and pool lights for exposure, you can see the murky storms brewing in his eyes from a single, sideways glance. “What, tired of being around everyone?” The captain slurs.

“Not particularly. But you seem to be.”

“The water feels nice,” is all he says before pulling the bottle of Hennessy to his lips and taking a large gulp before offering it to you. It’s a small offer of a white flag, but a genuine one that tells you he is allowing your presence and company. “So, where’s Oikawa?” You shrug at the question while taking no offense to it before taking a pull of your own.

“I dunno, I’m not his keeper.” A natural silence lulls over the two of you. After handing the bottle back to Kuroo, you take a few more tentative steps into the water so that it rests just above your chest, cooling your body from the heat of the alcohol that consumed you. “So, I get that it’s your party and you’ll sulk if you want to, but what’s eating at you?” You ask. As you’re speaking, your hands are moving about the chlorinated water, occasionally cupping the pristine liquid only to have it leave your fingers.

“Who says something’s bothering me?” Kuroo grits out. Not very well, you might add, as his slurs cause him to miss a couple vowels and consonants in his sentence. Judging by the fact that he’s drinking straight out of the bottle, Hennessy no less, you assumed he’s been hitting the sauce pretty hard. After all, Kuroo hated Henny almost as much as you hated Jäger. Turning to look back at him, you see the way he’s hunches over after bringing the half full bottle down to a quarter, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Kuroo, you think I don’t know you?” Your question was intended to come out as snarky, considering the long standing friendship between the two of you, yet swallowing down the infatuation you had been harboring for the last couple of years. However, seeing the way his shoulders were slumped and the defeat that crossed his downcast features—you didn’t have it in you to be mean to him.

“No, you don’t.” Comes the reply, one you weren’t expecting.

“Say sike right now,” you growl, “Kuroo, we have been friends for almost six fucking years—will you fucking put that down?!” You’re snapping now, the stomping of your feet muted by the water as you approach the captain and rip the almost empty bottle from his hands. Just so that he couldn’t keep hiding himself behind alcohol, you pour the remaining contents into your own mouth and toss the bottle into the nearby grass before you bring yourself to sit next to him with your knees touching his. “I have known you for—“

“Six fucking years, [name], I know.” The tone in his voice is suddenly clear. The slurs and disparity were now replaced with bitterness and acidity that rarely ever came from Kuroo. “For six fucking years, you’ve known me and yet you never once fucking looked at me.”

“Kuroo, I look at you all the—“

“No, you don’t,” his hazel eyes are lit with fire and intensity that reflected the anguish he felt inside. As much as he wanted to, the former captain couldn’t stop himself from saying the things that he’d sworn to secrecy for so long. “If you ever actually looked at me, you would see the way I looked at you.”

“Kuroo...”

“Why do you think I volunteered to watch over you last year after you fucking swung at my best friend?” The sheer burn of his words and the lava in his orbs is enough to make your heart stop. You swear that it actually did. “Why do you think I asked you to become the manager all those years ago? Or why I get so fucking pissed off that you show up here just to blackout? That you’re friends with Oikawa of all people?”

“Because you’re a good person?”

“Cause I’m in love with you, you moron!” Kuroo’s outburst is followed by him threading his fingers into his signature bed head, hiding the hot tears that he can’t stop from falling. He can’t help it—not when all of his composure was drained from every bottle he drank today. “[name], I literally held you and rocked you to sleep while you were puking your guts out over the side of my bed last year! Do you have any idea how hard it was not to confess while you were crying after punching Bo? How I finally got to hold you after six years but you don’t remember a single second of it?”

“Kuroo, I—“ but you don’t have anything to say. What can you say? You had no idea that any of that had ever taken place. And besides that, you felt that you were never worthy of his attention. You thought there was no possible way he actually returned the tiny embers of the crush you’d had on him for all these years, so there was never a reason to ask if anything had happened between the two of you that night. You didn’t have anything to say and the only thought that crossed your mind at the moment was to run from the situation—to leave him alone because clearly Kuroo wasn’t thinking straight. “I should leave.” You whisper.

“Wait, don’t go! Just...” a mangled sob leaves his chest and, for a moment, it’s sobering to watch him transition from being standoffish to angry to hurt, “why can’t you just look at me the way you look at him?” And suddenly, you’re overly aware of how convoluted your plan to use Oikawa as a hook up repellent was. How it worked out almost too well to the point where the one person you wanted thought you were out of reach.

“Kuroo, Oikawa and I aren’t dating, he’s known that I’ve had a crush on you since we started uni.”

It’s silent between the two of you.

It’s silent as Kuroo slowly turns to you as he relishes in the way your eyes boast sobriety and honesty—the way he knows you’re telling him the truth. 

And then he’s laughing. Head tossed back and hands over his stomach in a way that is just so Kuroo as he guffaws with zero regard for his volume. There was just enough alcohol left in his system that he couldn’t bring himself to care, just enough for him to have zero inhibitions left. “So you’re telling me that I drank a bottle of Everclear, a bottle of Henny, and a twelve-pack to my self for no reason?”

“Kuroo, you may or may not have alcohol poisoning.” You deadpan in reply.

“Oh look who’s talking!” Once again, the man beside is you laughing and you’re happy that he’s slowly returning to his normal, joking self. But the uncomfortable silence rears its ugly head once again and the two of you are looking at each other. How long had the two of you been staring at one another? Since you’d drained the rest of the Hennessy or since either of you last had a drink?

How much of this conversation was born because of the alcohol? It seems the question was weighing heavily on each of you.

“Do you mean it, Kuroo?” You ask quietly.

“I love you more than I hate Henny.” A snort leaves your nostrils, but you don’t miss the genuine tone. You don’t miss the way his hazel orbs have softened or the way one of his hands reached over to hold yours. You don’t miss the way his taut skin over his cheekbones relaxes by the slightest millimeter or the way his tongue peeks out to wet his slightly chapped lips. You don’t miss the way he’s looking at you with love. “You know, you were the only person I asked to be the manager back in high school. It was the only excuse I had to talk to you at the time.”

“Oh no, drunk confessions,” you tease, squeezing his hand. “Speaking of drunk, do you think we’re gonna remember this conversation tomorrow?” Another bellow of laughter escapes Kuroo’s chest followed by him wrapping one arm around shoulder to bring you closer. He knew he would. No amount of alcohol could ever make him forget hearing the fact that you’d been just as smitten with him as he was with you. Well, maybe not as much, but it was a start.

“That depends. Are you planning on blacking out tonight?”

“Is that what it takes to sleep in your bed again?”

“Is that a confession I hear, babygirl?” The pet name goes straight from your ears and sends a chill down your spine and he knows it’s getting to you. He knows, and everything feels right. He’s told you he loves you and that he has for years. He knows there’s nothing stopping either of you anymore, and he knows that you’re only getting started.

“I’ll show you a confession.”

Haikyuu!! Tag List

@hihiq​  @tamcitrus​

#samwrights #get samwrights to 1k #haikyuu took over my life #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu requests #kuroo tetsurou #tetsurou kuroo x reader #kuroo #kuroo x reader #nekoma #aged up #college au #fukurodani #oikawa tōru #yaku morisuke #lev haiba #akaashi keiji #bokuto koutarou

[kleptic-writes]

Drop ‘Em Out (Let Me See Them Knockers)

“Well, this is a cover of the song “Drop ‘Em Out” by Wheeler Walker Jr,” Kara says to the camera, her striking blue eyes staring into the camera as if trying to get it across that she is really saying this to Lena. She hums a note, before pausing, and saying, “I really hope you enjoy this, Lena.”

Kara strums a chord again and hums for about two seconds. She takes a deep breath and nods to herself, her left leg starting to bounce up and down as if keeping time. Kara looks like a real musician.

--

A one-shot where Lena is having a dilemma surrounding Kara. But, to be honest, when is she not having a dilemma surrounding Kara?

Word Count: 2134 words

Rating: T--but talks about boobs, so... take that how you will.

Read It Below or on AO3.

Sam exits the elevator quickly, her heels tapping against the floor. Her long legs stride towards the door to the CEO's penthouse, the urge to run bubbling up from deep down within her soul. She pulls her spare key out of her pocket, hands shaking as she clicks the door open and walks inside.

She nods at Jess, who is sitting and scrolling through her phone on the couch. “I came as fast as I could,” Sam says, almost yelling as her eyebrows furrowing together with worry. “What do you mean that Lena is ‘having a moment?’ Is she alright?” she asks.

Jess leans closer to the taller woman, but her eyes glance towards the closed bedroom door. “Go in for yourself and talk to her,” she whispers. “There’s just no logic and reason going through her head right now.”

Sam sucks in a deep breath and nods, mentally preparing herself for the absolute worse. She turns on her heel and walks to the door of the bedroom, pushing it open to see Lena staring wide-mouthed at her computer screen. She obviously hasn’t changed for the day because she is still wearing her morning red silk robe—not that there is much of the day left.

It’s already 3:53 according to Sam’s phone.

Oh, this is a lot worse than what Sam thought. She sighs and steps further into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

“Lena?” Sam asks, turning around to fully survey the situation.

The young CEO glances up at her with a glazed look in her eyes.

Sam bites her lip, studying Lena for a second too long so that it passes over the point of ‘      I am being a great friend    ’ and into ‘      I am a concerned mother looking over my child    ’ territory. But, to be honest, Lena is acting very similar to when Ruby came home lamenting over how cute her crush was three weeks ago.

Sam frowns. “Is everything alright?” she asks, stepping closer into Lena’s personal space.

Lena shakes her head as if she were shaking the cobwebs free from all the crevices in her brain. Her bright green eyes finally land on Sam, her eyes widening to almost a humorous degree.

“Sam,” Lena says, her voice cracking like a teenage boy going through puberty. Sam frowns as this is so much worse than what she thought it would be. “I think it finally got through to Kara that I’ve been flirting with her,” the CEO squeaks.

Sam tilts her head. “Why do you say that?” She quickly glances around the room for any signs of romance: flowers, cards,      anything    . She looks back at the CEO and raises an eyebrow at Lena when nothing appears to Sam right away. Her eyes flicker down, briefly, to the computer before Lena, and a thought pops into her head that makes her shiver.

Did Kara send Lena a sex video?  

 Sam shakes her head, that would be ridiculous. Kara is in isolation according to Supergirl’s twitter page.

 (“Lmao guys, I might have an alien virus!! I’ll keep you updated!!” it had said. Sam still balks every time she thinks about that. Who says LMAO when they have a potentially deadly virus?)

 “Just start from the beginning, Lena,” Sam ends up saying, trying to coax the CEO into telling her what’s wrong.

 “I am the product of a sordid love affair and my mother hates-”

 “Lena.”

 “Fine, fine,” Lena huffs and crosses her arms, staring Sam in the eye with obvious annoyance on her face. “It all started this morning when Kara and I were supposed to have our daily Zoom call with one another. She might’ve been exposed to an alien virus, you know.”

 “I heard.” Sam feels her eye twitch.

 “Anyway, this morning…”

--

 Lena sips on her morning coffee while her fingers rapidly click against the spacebar of her computer, coaxing the machine to wake up for the day. It blinks awake and she quickly types in her password.

--

 “I don’t need like a fucking novel,” Sam groans, her left hand flying up the air as a feeling of exasperation settles in her stomach. “Just tell me what happened!”

 “I’m getting there,” Lena snaps, “Hold your horses.”

--

 Lena hums and softly blows the steam away from her face as she refreshes her email inbox, waiting for Kara’s email to the Zoom room link.

 She looks out the window, frowning when a red dart--sadly, not Supergirl--flashes across the sky. Must’ve been a bird or something. Oh, Lena misses Kara like a fish missing water.

 Lena opens her phone and clicks on the texting conversation between her and Kara.

 “where are you??” Lena types, before deleting, pausing, and looking out the window once again so she can think of a better text to send to her best friend. She bites her lip, every possible message running through her mind rapidly and slowly at the same time because this is Lena’s most anxious part of the day, despite what anyone else thinks.

 She looks back to her phone and sucks in a breath, sending “are we still on for zoom?” to the blonde, quarantined superhero. “i can also do it later in the day if you can’t do it right now,” she adds in quick succession.

 “Check your email! :D” Kara quickly responds not a second later, and Lena feels her heart flutter as she stares at the cute emoticon. It is so Kara. “But could we possibly Zoom later? I have some lab tests about to be done on me” and “I don’t want our time cut short” comes in two messages back to back.

 “then why am i checking my email,” Lena almost asks, before deleting the message. She sighs, bringing her cup back up to her lips as her fingers fly to click the reload button. She clicks and anxiety starts to build in her stomach.

 She frowns as an email from Kara loads with the title:  Watch Me!!!

--

 Sam puts her hands on her hips and looks up at the ceiling. “So,” she says, interrupting Lena’s story. “you’re freaking out slash mildly upset because you didn’t have your daily Zoom call?”

 Lena sputters. “N-no,” she says while her eyes fly around the room rapidly as if the young CEO wouldn’t dare look her friend in the eye. Sam raises an eyebrow at the action and hums, trying to figure out what is going on.

 “Let me just continue with my story, Sam,” Lena whines, “Then, you can offer your genius or whatever.”

 “You’re damn right I’m going to offer my genius after all this,” Sam nods, motioning for Lena to continue, “please tell me more about why you’re so freaked out right now.”

 “Well, I clicked on the email which had a YouTube link sitting inside...”

--

 Lena almost chokes on her coffee once the video loads. Her green eyes squint together, amused, as she stares at Kara smiling widely into the camera.

 The blonde is wearing an      interesting     outfit, to say the least, and it makes Lena wonder if Alex decided to get Kara’s clothes for her--but at a steep price. But, like always, Kara still looks like the perfect mix between hot and cute. Maybe it’s an alien thing.

 Well, to put it plainly, Kara looks like a Cowboy. And, it is making Lena feel      things    .

 Her taut white t-shirt is covered by a blue and red well-worn flannel, and a straw cowboy hat rests on top of her head with her blonde hair down and semi-wild. Since Kara isn’t wearing her glasses, she looks as if Supergirl decided to go to a rodeo and just fought an evil bucking alien.

 “Hey, Lena,” Kara says, grinning into the camera. She reaches one of her hands up as if wanting to fix her glasses, but then coughs, and fixes her hat instead. “I haven’t seen you in person for a few weeks now,” the blonde muses, her blue eyes dropping to her lap as if extremely disappointed.

 . “I really hate that,” she continues, “But, nevermind that. I have something to show you! Something that I hope--oh, golly--I hope you’ll like this.”

 The CEO raises an eyebrow at the screen, silently wondering if Kara is going to use her superhearing to listen to Lena’s reaction.

 “Anyway,” Kara continues, “I’ve had a lot of time on my hands recently. I’ve really enjoyed our Zoom calls, but they’re the only thing that I really look forward to nowadays. So, I decided to learn how to play some country music. One sec,” she stands and exits offscreen.

 Lena bites down on her lower lip, slamming her eyes together so a groan doesn’t escape from her lips. Sure, Lena would love to watch Kara’s serenade from the DEO, but she doesn’t really care for country music.

 “Well, here is a song that I hope that you enjoy,” Kara says, and Lena slowly opens her eyes. Kara is holding a guitar with a shit-eating grin on her face.

--

 “Wait,” Sam interrupts again, “This all about a      song    . You’re freaking out over a song?”

 “Let me tell my own story, Sam,” Lena sniffs, crossing her arms. “It makes more sense if you just listen.”

 “Jeez, okay.”

--

 Kara clears her throat, and strums such a beautiful chord that Lena suddenly gets the urge to listen to more country music--but, only if Kara will listen to it as well. Her blue eyes shimmer and shine almost as if she had caught stars and put them in her eyes.

 “Well, this is a cover of the song “Drop ‘Em Out” by Wheeler Walker Jr,” Kara says to the camera, her eyes staring into the camera so she could get it across that she is really saying it to Lena while strumming another angelic chord. She hums, before pausing, and saying, “I really hope you enjoy this, Lena.”

 Kara strums a chord again and hums for about two seconds. She takes a deep breath and nods to herself, her left leg starting to bounce up and down as if keeping time. Kara looks like a real musician.

 Lena leans closer to the screen, enraptured by what she sees. Maybe after Kara gets out of Quarantine, Lena will just ask Kara to play guitar chords while the CEO happily (and hornily) drinks wine.

 Kara plays another chord and opens her mouth, her bright voice echoing in the bedroom.

 “Drop 'em out,” Kara’s voice is angelic, Lena thinks. “Let me see them titties. Gonna take a long look at those tig 'ol bitties. Areolas lookin' nice, nipples lookin' real pretty…”

 Lena gasps, shock ricocheting throughout her entire body as she watches Kara… sing about boobs? Kara would never do that.

 “Come on let me gander at your boobs.”

 Scratch that. Kara wants to see her boobs..? What in the--

--

 “No way that happened,” Sam says, rolling her eyes. “Kara can barely even say boobs, much less ‘titties.’ And that part with the Areolas? Bah!”

 “She did,” Lena says, nodding her head. “I’ve been watching the video all morning in fact. Do you want to see it?”

 Sam pauses, considering her choices very carefully. “I’m good,” she decides.

 “Are you sure?” Lena asks, looking worried and unsure as if she were afraid that Sam doesn’t believe her. “All I have to do is just click--”

 “Do      not     click that button,” Sam says, firmly, her hand almost slapping herself in the face. “I don’t want to hear it.”

 Lena pauses, biting on her lip. “What do I do, Sam?” she asks, her voice small. “I’ve never been in this situation before.”

 “Honey,” Sam sighs, “I don’t think anyone has been in this situation before. But you know what?” Lena perks up and stares at Sam with an extreme fascination. “You can do exactly what Kara told you to do… show her your boobs!”

 “Really?”

 “Yes,” Sam says, and then she hesitates. But, then she shrugs and agrees with herself that this might be the fastest course of action. “Yeah, show her your wonderful boobs.”

 Lena nods. “Okay,” she says as if trying to psych herself up, “I will. I will show Kara my boobs. But,” she pauses staring at Sam with an extremely pitiful gaze, “I will only do it if you help me make sure that they look perfect. Help me with lighting and whatnot.”

 Sam looks up at the ceiling and closes her eyes. The fate of her friend’s relationship is now in her hands, no matter how much she doesn’t want it to be. She sighs and looks back down at Lena.

 “Sure,” she says, “Let’s make sure your boobs look great for Kara.”

 “Our zoom call is at 4:30.”

 “You will look like Kara’s personal cam star at 4:30, then.”

#supercorp #kara x lena #lena luthor #kara danvers #cowboy!kara #supercorp fanfic #this was a crackhead moment #should've been studying for finals but #here we are #samantha arias #she's also a key player in this

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

“it’s okay to cry in front of me, you know. you don’t have to carry this alone.” and/or “stop trying to push yourself! you can’t do this on your own!” for starker

I’ll Give Into Yours

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Notes: I tried to fit them both in, but “stop trying to push yourself! you can’t do this on your own! ended up being what I snuck in there. Thank you so very much for the prompt! Summary: 

Peter is a strong independent superhero that doesn’t need a team. That’s what he thought, at least - until he met Tony Stark. 

do the thing, send in all the prompts

Peter’s first impression of Tony Stark wasn’t the greatest.

The first two minutes of their initial interaction were terrible – in fact, Peter would have slapped him if the stupid helmet wasn’t covering his pretty face. Peter didn’t appreciate the way he barged in and took control of a situation that Peter was plenty equipped to handle. How Tony Stark realized he was Spider-Man was beyond him, but he wasn’t letting anyone get in his way or tell him what to do.

After a solid year of stopping small crimes around Queens and Brooklyn, Peter felt qualified – he probably wasn’t Avenger level, but he understood what criminals were like and could navigate his way through apprehending a thief and cutting off a person he was pursuing. When Iron Man met him at the end of the ally he’d been swinging through, perp in hand, Peter almost didn’t stop – his momentum would’ve sent them both flying to the ground.

“Hey – I almost had him!” Peter exclaimed, his voice petulant. He yanked the small-time thief out of Tony’s grip and went about webbing him to the side of the building. Peter shot a couple extra strands of the web-fluid for good measure. The thought to keep going played across his mind for a second before he was being scooped up, his feet leaving the group. Iron Man had him in a tight grip until they landed on the roof of Starker Tower a few miles away.

“This is kidnapping. Put me down!” By then, Peter felt like an unruly child, his feet kicking in a desperate attempt to dislodge the hands holding him. Superhuman strength had nothing on modern technology. When his feet touched down on the roof, Peter made a quick move to put a bit of distance between them. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you can’t just – do that!”

Peter wanted to pull off the mask and air out the warm skin on his face – he was so worked up, all of his nerve endings were thrumming with adrenaline, the epinephrine in his system making him flushed. He kept his fingers on his web shooters instead. The rough estimation of how much time he’d have to move was two seconds – but he didn’t know how fast the Iron Man suit actually was. Staying on his toes, Peter waited to hear what Tony had to say. There wasn’t any point in running away, the needless pursuit would end with him being caught again, anyway.

“I’ve had Jarvis monitoring your movements for the past few weeks. For someone trying desperately to keep up with a secret identity, changing in the middle of an alleyway is not your best choice.” The helmet pulled back to reveal a perfectly symmetrical face covered in a finely sculpted goatee and messily long brown hair. There was a bit of gray collecting at the temples, but Peter tried hard not to notice.

Lashing out instead, Peter yanked off the mask, the slightest sneer on his face. “Sounds like you’re just an old perv using your impressive technology to be creepy.” Despite wanting it to come off meanly, Peter couldn’t stop the chuckle from slipping from his lips.

It was an absurd thought and sounded even more so coming out of his mouth. “That was just as stupid as it sounded. Sorry. What I meant to say was why are you watching me? I haven’t stepped on your toes, or anything.”

And he hadn’t – he went out of his way to stay low profile and only get mixed up with stuff he knew he could handle. He shuddered to think about Toomes and that fiasco – the whole situation was one he couldn’t just step away from. At the time, there’d been too much personal attachment to let it go. Even that hadn’t caught Tony Stark’s attention.

“Nick Fury took an interest in you after your altercation with Adrian Toomes. It took a little bit of leg work to narrow down the search, but Jarvis finally found something. There is only one Del Mar’s pagoda in all of Queens, New York.” Peter watched as Tony walked out of the Iron Man suit while he spoke, his hands crossing over his chest when he eventually settled in front of him.

Peter let himself take in the older man now that he could see all of him. He wasn’t nearly as tall as he figured he might be. His smaller stature made the bulk of his muscle stand out a little more, instead. 

There was obvious knowledge sitting behind eyes that were dark in the late hour, but probably beautifully rich in color. The cat t-shirt pulled across the glowing arc reactor was almost enough to break his resolve; Tony Stark was the ultimate contradiction.

Shaking his head of the thought, Peter forced himself to focus on the hardened look being thrown his way. “We could use someone with your skill and smarts, Peter Parker.” Tony seemed to admit it reluctantly – his feet shifting a little as he spoke down towards them.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Peter mumbled, his hand coming up to run his fingers through sweaty locks sticking to his forehead. “And you thought this was the best way to approach me? I thought you were a genius.” He shook his head and walked back towards Tony; their heights much similar now that Peter was a little closer. “I’m not interested, anyway. Working alone has been going just fine for me so far.”

At the very last second, Peter stuck a hand out, his fingers gripping Tony’s shoulder. “Try something else next time, Mr. Stark. Something a little less stalker-y, maybe.” He didn’t stick around to see what Tony had to say, he simply jumped off the edge of the roof and started to swing back towards his studio apartment.

The thought of seeing Tony Stark again brought a smile to his face. It might be fun to see just how long he could hold out.

----

The very next morning, Peter woke up to a loud knock on the door. Glancing at his phone, he realized just how long he’d been asleep and popped up and off his bed. Not bothering with a shirt, Peter walked to the door and pulled it open. Tony must have been about to knock again; his fist was raised, and a surprised look flashed across his face.

“This is only slightly less creepy,” Peter said in greeting, a grin settling on his lips. “Do you want to come in?” He opened the door wider, giving Tony a better look at his shirtless chest and the front part of his apartment.

With a flash of satisfaction, Peter watched Tony’s eyes trail shamelessly down his tightly muscled chest and abs. Tony looked up at him after a moment, only the slightest bit of flush spreading across his cheeks. “Jarvis is very thorough,” he answered, his hands settling into the pockets of his dark blue jeans as he took the smallest step into the apartment. Peter shut the door before Tony spoke again. “I thought I’d try again, anyway.”

Peter threw him an amused look and walked further into his apartment. It didn’t take super-hearing to know that Tony was following him. The prickling of his skin told him Tony was still looking at him closely, those hazel eyes roaming over him in an attempt to categorize and calculate – Peter recognized the look on the older man’s face; it was one that graced his own all the time.

He went about putting coffee into the French press – the kettle already on the stove on its way to boiling. Pulling down two cups from the cabinet right above the sink, Peter let them rest on the counter and turned back towards Tony. “What are you trying to do? Recruit me?” It seemed like a simple question, but the look the man shot him was loaded, multi-faceted if he was reading it right.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. I thought I was trying to get you to at least listen to the pitch Cap’s been practicing for the last couple of weeks. Then I met you – and here I am. Not as Iron Man, but Tony Stark, instead.” He shrugged then, a crease between his eyes forming as he looked at Peter curiously.

“Your suit is awful. I respect the fact that you want to stay low key and work by yourself – but at least let me equip you with something that’ll help you be a better version of your one man team.” Suddenly emboldened, Tony pulled out his StarkPhone, thumbs flying over it. With a quick tap to his glasses that more than likely housed Jarvis within them, Tony was pulling a multi-dimensional design up from the phone he set on the counter. “I drew up some specs last night.”

Whatever Peter thought he knew about the illustrious Tony Stark flew out the window that morning. With wide eyes, he watched the tech genius explain the new nanotech he hoped to outfit both himself and Peter with. The suit was decked out with multiple weapon capabilities and a brand-new quick trigger web shooter. In theory, it was absolutely spectacular. In theory, at least.

“So, what’s the catch?” Peter asked point blank, his eyes wide from all the fancy shit Tony presented to him. He wanted to believe that Tony Stark had the best of intentions, but he’d learned pretty quickly in his life that looks could be deceiving. Good shit didn’t just happened because it could.

Tony looked taken aback for a second – his head tilting. A proud look washed over his face, the slight frown he’d been trying to disguise slipping seamlessly into a smirk – one Peter could imagine Tony donning often. “You’re clever. I like that. Always ask that question.” Tony tapped at his glasses again, the details of the cool suit disappearing. “My AI is the base that all the functions are built upon. Her name is KAREN. I’ll have access to her – so if you think that’s a catch, well –“

His hands spread in a nonchalant gesture, but Peter knew better. There was a quirk in Tony’s brow and his eyes were following every one of his moves. At the end of the day, Peter not accepting would only penalize himself – there wasn’t any way to avoid things with Tony Stark, not when he was looking at him like some sort of science experiment. One person keeping track of him was a lot different than giving up his freedom and joining a team that, as far as he could see, did more harm than good at the end of the day.

“It is, but it’s one that I can overlook. You knew bringing this new suit my way would make it impossible for me to say no to you. I’ve been wearing pool goggles for the past year – the basic model of this suit would be twenty steps above what I’ve been using.” Shaking his head in an attempt to look more in control than he felt, Peter stuck a hand out between them, his fingers wiggling. “I’m in. When do we start?”

The answer was immediately – Tony took his hand for a brief shake, then started talking a mile a minute. Before Peter even realized what happened, his chest was covered in a shirt and they were walking down the stairs of his apartment building. A black Audi was parked against the curb, the doors opening when Tony was within range.

Peter tried not to marvel at the car as Tony programmed their destination – his mouth opened wide when he pressed the ‘start route’ button and the car started to drive all on its own. Tony turned in the driver’s seat and looked at Peter as they drove from Queens to Manhattan, the idea of it enough to distract him from the words coming out of the older man’s mouth. The meager engineering program he could afford at NYU did not give him access to anything like it – Peter felt a little star struck.

That feeling didn’t go away, either. Stepping foot into Tony’s personal lab, Peter felt himself stiffen in his pants a little – his eyes were sweeping from one side of the room to the other without restraint. He let out a gasp when he saw the expansive computer system; it probably cost more than his entire college degree would. “Holy shit,” Peter gasped out, eyes wide.

Hearing Tony’s hearty laugh brought Peter’s attention back to the man himself – the smile on his face hitting him like a blow to the gut. Less than 12 hours ago, he wanted to smack Tony in the face and now – now he wanted to tuck his head into the crease of his neck and see what the skin there smelt like. Being 20 did nothing for the raging hormones that so frequently tried to rule his actions. Balling his hands into fists, Peter walked further into the lab and followed Tony through the tour he gave him.

----  

For the first few days, working in the lab with Tony was odd. When they stepped through the doors, it was all business. Tony started to talk to Jarvis without hesitation, the AI allowing him to use his hands to manipulate the plans they’d been working with. He dragged Peter into the conversation the second he could – they easily got caught up in the flow of their joint interest and the work that needed to be put in to be successful.

As they made progress, Peter found himself getting excited throughout the day, his thoughts turning to the lab whenever he wasn’t focused on something that had to be done. Not only was it fun to work on a suit that would be customized to his specific needs, it was a blast spending time with Tony, too. When they weren’t talking about saving the world or patrolling, they were discussing movies and books they liked – Tony was well read and knew pop culture almost as well as Peter did.

A couple of months into their work, Peter walked into the lab to a beaming Tony – his glasses were in his hands and he looked wide awake. At that point in their working relationship, Peter recognized that to be Tony’s achievement face. His heart started to race – today just might be the day. 

“Pete – you’re finally here. It’s done. All that’s left is for you to try it out,” Tony practically yelled across the room. Lacking patience, he closed the space between them, his hand grabbing Peter’s.

Between the still present tingling in his hand and the perfectly snug fit of the suit, Peter’s head was reeling. He tapped the button on his chest and grinned when the nanotech crawled back towards the housing unit. Letting out an excited laugh, Peter stopped in front of Tony, his face pulled into a wide grin. “I can’t wait to see what KAREN has to offer. You didn’t need to add fifty different kinds of web shooting functions, but I’m so glad you did.”

Without thought, Peter was wrapping his arms around Tony’s shoulders and pulling him close. “Thanks – for this.” He tucked his face into Tony’s neck, his nose pressing against the skin there. Peter sucked in a deep breath, the smell of metal and oil, coffee, and oakmoss hit him – the punch of it sent tingles rushing down his spine. Keeping his hands right where they were, Peter let himself stay close until Tony reciprocated – just the smallest taste of those hands on him was already too much.

Stepping back, Peter dropped his eyes, his cheeks on fire. “It’s great, Tony. I think I’m going to go and try it out.” He didn’t look up as he walked past him, Peter scared that if he did, he might not leave the room with any of his dignity left. His lips tingled, the ache of wanting to kiss Tony senseless addling his brains.

He didn’t look over his shoulder as he stepped into the elevator. 

Leaving the building before the sun went down was different – it’d been weeks since Peter went out on patrol before the darkness was settled around him. Sucking in a deep breath, Peter hit the housing unit and let the suit spread across his limbs – he figured there wasn’t a time that this specific moment wouldn’t take his breath away.

For the next few weeks, Peter enjoyed getting to know his suit. Every now and again, he’d stop in to see Tony for a few minute – the man would ask him about his patrols and the classes he was taking, but Peter didn’t let it get any further. His thoughts from the night he got his suit crept back every single time he looked Tony in the eye. There wasn’t any going back – he realized that after the first week of trying to avoid him at all costs.

They were inevitably tied together – no matter how much Peter tried to deny it.

Of course, he still didn’t want Tony or the Avenger’s infringing on his crime stopping business. They were big time and he wanted to stay on the ground floor. Despite Tony constantly trying to talk him into at least touring the Avenger’s compound, Peter stood firm. There hadn’t been anything big in a long time and he knew for a fact that he could handle his shit.

At least, he thought he could. Peter didn’t take into account the fact that Adrian Toomes was an otherwise upstanding citizen – good behavior existed for family men like him. Word of Toomes’s return came a little bit too late. 

KAREN alerted him of a big government facility break in and he took off. It didn’t cross his mind, the fact that Toomes made his living off of modified weapons usually stolen from dealers and Army agencies alike.

By the time Peter realized he’d been set up, he was in way too deep without any chance of backing up or running away. Tapping into the comms, Peter called out to KAREN desperately. “I need you to get me Tony. Can you patch me through?” A sigh of relief left his lips when Tony’s face lit up his screen.

“Pete? Are you okay? Your vitals are through the roof!” Tony looked confused and on the very edge of being scared.

Biting down on his lip, Peter swung quickly to the other side of the building as a sharp blast shot past his shoulder. “I followed Toomes – he got out of prison and immediately started the old business back up. He was expecting me.” Peter rushed the words out – his eyes bulging when another shot came his way. “Get KAREN to give you my location. I need help, Tony.”

Unable to concentrate on two things at once, Peter clicked out of the conversation and enabled KAREN to take control of his web shooter settings. Her aim was much better than his own. As long as he could find a way to keep them in the building without getting killed, everything would be just fine.

Tony’s arrival was marked by one of the Iron Fleet swooping in through the window at the far side of the building. The small rockets it fired off were enough to distract the men on the ground. Peter took advantage of it by swinging across the room and meeting Tony by the window. He’d finished the nanotech on his own suit – his flight looked smooth, the light nanotech allowing him to move almost gracefully.

“Thank fuck you’re here!” Peter balanced on the window as Tony hovered by him. “There’s six of them, and more than half have some sort of alien weapon.”

It took them a couple of minutes to take down everyone but Toomes – he left out of the side of the building after blasting it to pieces when Tony first arrived. Peter watched Tony juggle the options before staying put – there were too many dangerous weapons littering the floor to just up and leave. He heard Tony talking over his comms to JARVIS, the request for back-up making Peter immediately balk.

Most of the men were unconscious and if they weren’t, they were wrapped in so much webbing that even Peter would struggle to get out of the bindings. Tapping his chest, Peter let the nanotech slip from his head, his face coming into view. “Tony, I – “ he didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he didn’t want to owe anyone or be owned by anything, either.

Tony followed his lead, the face shield moving so Peter could see the swell of bright brown eyes – he looked angry, but also worried; the mix of emotions written clearly across his face. “Stop trying to push yourself! You can’t do this on your own!” Tony surprised them both, his eyebrows rising into his hairline as the words left his mouth. “This is serious, Pete. I can’t – I mean. There’s no way I can stand back and watch you risk your life. We’ll help. No strings attached.”

Peter tried not to take those words to heart – he figured the second Captain America and Bruce Banner walked in, he’d be one step closer to signing his life’s work away. Instead, they were efficient in the clean-up process – they spoke to him directly and took the needed details to hunt Toomes down.

After another 24-hours of tracking and fighting more alien weapons than any of them wanted to be around, Toomes was in SHIELD custody. Peter found himself being watched by Nick Fury, but the man never approached. Whatever pull Tony had over them seemed to work – Peter didn’t feel any sort of pressure from anyone.

When Peter was done giving a few statements and running over the mission debrief with Steve for the second time, they let him walk right out the door. Of course, Tony followed him, his feeble excuse of wanting to ride back to the city together something Peter could easily forgive. They didn’t talk the entire way, both men lost in their own thoughts.

He didn’t see Tony again for a couple of weeks – Peter pulled him into a hug when they got back from the compound and left without a backwards glance. He wouldn’t be able to pull away if he let himself look too hard at the person who seemed to get him in a way that didn’t quite make sense. His resolve lasted all of 12 days before he was putting on the suit and swinging over to Stark Tower.

JARVIS let him into the elevator when he landed on the roof and took him to the floor Tony’s lab was on. Peter wondered how long that’d been the case without him really noticing it.

Tony was leaned over his work bench fiddling with the homing device for his own suit. He turned the stool he was kneeling on to face Peter when the elevators opened – a soft smile on his face. “Spider-Man himself,” Tony said – his eyes roamed over Peter, the look making his skin prickle. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

Peter walked further into the lab; his feet way more confident than the rest of him. Not stopping until he was right in front of Tony, Peter let himself smile, his eyes softening. “I think you were right. I can’t do this on my own.” He let his fingers trail through the longer hair on the top of his head, nerves pumping through him.

Tony got up from the stool, the move narrowing the distance between them. “Yeah? What does that mean, exactly?”

Reaching out, Peter wrapped his arms around Tony’s shoulders – a soft sigh leaving his lips when the older man responded accordingly. Warm fingers on the small of his back pushing slightly made the space between them nonexistent. “It means that I’m willing to expand my team a little. Interested?” Peter tilted his head, his eyes slipping shut.

The initial press of their lips together sent a shock through Peter’s system – his hands moving to press Tony more tightly against him. Panted out breath against his cheeks had him pulling back, his own lungs on fire – they’d kissed each other breathless. Grinning, Peter tilted his forehead against Tony’s.

“I don’t think I’d mind being an Avenger, either.”

#starker #ironspider #bobbie writes #nonnie #anonymous

[kathyprior4200]

Fallen (post episode 4)

 Cletus, Keenie and Collin broke down in heavy tears as they surveyed the area around them. The audience lay slumped and dead in their seats after being shot with arrows and bullets. Metal scaffolding lay bent and wrecked on the wooden stage where Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie were moments before. The former opera singer now lay dead and crushed underneath a stage light that had fallen on top of her. And underneath a broken piano lay the dead crushed body of Lyle Lipton, the elderly inventor they had tried to save.

 The scene was eerie and empty. The nervous well-dressed piano guy had promptly fled the scene, traumatized after the events. And those accursed imps had jumped through a portal back to Hell in triumph.

 As Cletus cried some more, fountains of tears sprung from his eyes. Keenie and Collin rushed in to comfort him. The trio had never felt so vulnerable before.

 “I…I can’t believe this!” Cletus wailed. “We were so close to helping out that man…even though he was shitty and old…”

 “Language,” chided Keenie.

 Cletus continued. “We did everything right, but now we can’t get back through.”

 “It’s not…completely your fault,” Collin said, putting a hoof on his leader’s back in comfort. “It was all an accident.”

 Cletus raised an eyebrow at his comrade. “What do you mean ‘not completely?’”

 “Well…” Collin began.

 “You’re right, it was those imps’ doing!” Keenie interrupted, her white lacy wings flapping in frustration. “If only Deerie had seen what they were doing to us.”

 The three took some deep breaths and sobs as they slowly calmed down. With a wave of his hand, their fancy dresses and tuxedos clothes were replaced by their regular outfits: reddish overalls for Cletus, a light blue shirt and white bow tie for Collin and a yellow dress for Keenie.

 “What do we do now?” Collin asked, almost in a whisper.

 “First thing’s first,” said Cletus. “We find a safe place to stay for a while. Who knows how long we’ll have to stay on Earth?” The others nodded in agreement.

 “Urgh,” Keenie scowled. “First those filthy demonic trash decide to mock us and now we have to live among these…messy mortals?”

 “Oh come on,” Collin gave a small smile as the three left the theater. They looked again sadly at the deceased humans and made crosses with their hands before flying away through an open window. “Things will work out. We’ve helped humans all the time. Surely they can’t be that bad!”

  The three of them later gasped in sheer horror on the streets in a nearby town. A homeless man sat on a corner smoking a cigarette, while his comrade vomited alcohol down a sewer drain. A large man with a mustache ripped off a woman’s shirt as she leaned into him with a messy kiss in an alleyway. A skinny thief snatched a woman’s purse before he was brutally shot in the head by a man with a baseball cap. Two men were fighting each other and swearing, one of them landing a punch that toppled the other to the ground. As a policeman dragged a body away, a nearby band blared on bloodstained instruments. The logo on the drum read “Hail Satan!” in red messy paint.

 A group of men sitting on a bench glanced at the cherubs hungrily.

 “Anyone want mutton chops tonight?” The others laughed and displayed sinister grins.

 C.H.E.R.U.B. stood with open mouths for several seconds. Cletus laughed nervously and made a motion with his arm and fist. “Let’s go check out someplace else!”

 The three took to the sky, trying not to look at the watchful eyes of passerby.

 Collin’s fluffy light indigo ears perked up. “Hey, I know what we can do! We can keep doing our job like before, helping people in need! Now that those imps are back in Hell, we are free to do what we like.”

 Keenie shook her head. “As much as I want to, I don’t think we should just yet. I’m worried that we’ll just cause more deaths.”

 “I might have to agree as well,” said Cletus. “I mean, how can we tell anyone about our accomplishments if we aren’t in Heaven anymore?”

 “I miss my mom and dad,” Collin whined. “How will they react when they find out about what we’ve done?” He gasped. “What if they already know? What if all of Heaven knows and now sees us as…one of them?”

 The others gasped.

 “You don’t mean…” Keenie began.

 Cletus rapidly shook his head. “No, no, no, no! I refuse to believe that our one mistake would lead us into becoming demons!”

 “What if…it’s already too late?” Keenie wondered in fear.

 Collin imagined all three of them trapped in long black demonic hands, their wings and halos gone. Flames turning their eyes red and their skin a charred black. The pale face of Lucifer towering behind them and letting out a maniacal laugh.

 “Oh my gosh, oh my god!” Collin cried, his eyes wide as he shook his head free of the fear.

 Keenie slapped him hard on the head. “Hey, I told you to not use the Lord’s name in vain!” Collin sobbed again and rubbed his large white wool of hair as he flew beside them.

  The setting sun turned the sky a brilliant orange as the three cherubs searched for a safe place to stay the night. Their white feathery wings and halos glowed and flickered in the fading light. Their silhouettes followed the setting sun before they landed in a quieter part of town. Neon signs were already humming in the twilight. From inside nearby windows, several woman were wearing dark lace and high heeled boots, pole-dancing to upbeat music. The cherubs huddled close together, staying under streetlights to avoid the dark unknown. Their wings flapped silently as they moved forward inches off the ground.

 “I miss Heaven’s comforting light,” Keenie sighed. “And God’s light most of all. It seems like this place is devoid of it.”

 “There’s always good somewhere in the world,” said Collin with a hopeful expression. “You just have to know where to look.”

 “The only thing I see are shabby buildings and humans indulging in their disgusting desires,” Cletus remarked. He mentioned to a nearby man who burped loudly after stuffing an entire pizza into his mouth. “The sooner we get home, the better.”

 Collin took a piece of cheese he bought and popped it into his mouth. He grumbled. “The food here is prison food in comparison to what we have back home. It just tastes so…bland and heavy.”

 Keenie munched half-heartedly on a carrot. “It’s still edible at least.”

 “Demons eat nothing but raw meat,” Cletus added. “Back up above, we could enjoy all the vegetables, holy fruits, and drinks we wanted. Every day was an endless buffet…”

 “Stop making me hungry,” Collin remarked. They fell into silence as a nightly breeze ruffled their clothing and wooly fur.

 “I think we should get human disguises soon,” Collin later mentioned as they hovered over the sidewalk.

 “Yeah, like those hideous costumes worked out well for those imps,” Cletus rolled his eyes. “Relax, Collin. I’m sure some of the humans will notice and treat us with the respect I…um, we deserve.”

 Collin huffed. “I sure hope so.” He clapped his large front hooves together nervously as if trying to say something. As they continued hovering past some alleyways, a low growl was heard. Keenie paused, her hair stood on end.

  “Guys…what was that?” Keenie asked, looking around.

 “Probably just Collin’s stomach,” Cletus mentioned.

 “No, I swear it wasn’t me,” he said. “Through I am very hungry.”

 The growling grew louder…it seemed to be coming from behind them. The three slowly turned around and spotted a figure in the shadows. It was a large gray canine with beady black eyes…and very sharp teeth. Drool dribbled onto the ground by its paws.

 The cherubs screamed and scattered away in flight. The dog barked loudly and raced after them. The cherubs zoomed up ahead, avoiding passing cars and maneuvering around figures of people. They zoomed over black trash bags as the dog barreled through them at high speed. The dog raced on all fours, snapping its jaws as it moved closer to them.

 “Get back!” Keenie called, moving her yellow hooves in a frantic kick, just missing its face. The beast just grabbed at her dress with its teeth and yanked.

 “Aaaahhhh! Get off, you beast!” she cried.

 Cletus yelled in fury and raised his hand in the air as he flew. He then glanced upward in sheer shock.

 “I can’t summon my golden crossbow!”

 Collin flew nearby, muttering a prayer while shaking. He took a deep breath and speed toward the dog. He landed a punch to the dog’s eyes…and with a yelp, the dog let go of Keenie’s dress with a rip. Keenie gasped and shook herself. “My dress!” she cried as she stared at the torn slobbery hole. “Look at my dress!”

 “Be thankful it’s not your backside,” Cletus mentioned. Keenie seethed at him as Collin came flying back toward them, the dog at his heels. Keenie shoved Collin backwards toward the dog, sending the both of them tumbling to the ground.

 Cletus and Keenie flew as fast as they could until Keenie spotted a beacon in the distance. A tall brick building had a large white Christian Cross on top of it, appearing golden as the sun continued to set. Several stained glass windows showed images of Jesus and the Virgin Mary surrounded by golden backgrounds. Even more spectacular was a nearby towering Christmas tree decorated with gold and silver ornaments and a six pointed star at the top.

 “A church!” she called. “Hurry!”

 They landed in front of the large wooden double doors, catching their breath.

 “My wings are sore,” Cletus groaned.

 “No more flying for a while,” Keenie agreed.

 Cletus knocked politely on the door. “Hello? Anybody in there?”

 So far, no answer.

 Just then, they heard panting from behind them. They whirled around…only to find Collin hunched over, his clothes torn up. There were several scratches all over him.

 “Oh Collin, thank goodness,” Cletus sighed in relief.

 “Keenie…” Collin began. “What was that back there?! I’m lucky I escaped at all!”

 “I had to distract the dog so we could get away,” she said.

 Collin glared and stomped one of his cloven feet. “That’s the second time you pushed me in harm’s way! And the first time was with a whole pack of wild animals!”

 “You’re still fine, right?” she asked.

 Collin let out a “ha!” followed by a “no.”

 “Don’t ever do that again,” he said, folding his arms. The cherubs waved their hands and their clothes and skin were repaired.

 Just then, the door solely opened. A woman dressed in a black robe stared into the distance. “Hello?”

 “Down here,” said Cletus. She looked down with surprise in her eyes.

 “May I help you?”

 “Hi,” said Cletus. “We got lost from our home and now we have nowhere to go. May we stay for a bit?”

 The woman peered closer at them, narrowing her eyes. “You three look familiar…”

 The cherubs gulped. Seconds dragged on.

 “Do I know you?”

 “Um…” Cletus began, sweat trickling down his forehead.

 “Of course!” she called, standing up. “You’re those guardian angels who go out and save people, yes?”

 Cletus stood proudly. “Yep, that’s us!” The other two let out soft gasps and looked at Cletus in worry.

 The woman looked around. “Hurry, inside now,” she said. “The world is full of people willing to take advantage of you savior children.”

 The cherubs bowed in thanks before heading through the door.

 “Technically, I’m twenty-four,” Cletus muttered.

 “I thought we were hundreds of years old,” wondered Keenie.

 Collin grinned, redness briefly spreading to his cheeks. “You’re so beautiful, you don’t look a year over two-hundred.”

 Keenie “bahed” at him in annoyance before they made it into the main chamber. The high vaulted ceiling made even the cherub angels feel small. The sky was a dark indigo through the opening above. Rows of arched gaps circled the area near the ceiling, and stone pillars held the ceiling on either side. The floor was in a black and white checkered pattern while a few Greek inspired designs caught Cletus’ attention. The rows of seats were polished and clean, and several white candles were lit in holders, emitting a peaceful glow.

 The woman made way for them and came back with a bowl of fruit and grass. Collin munched on blueberries, Keenie on pineapple slices and Cletus started on red apples. Cletus stared into the apple’s red surface. “Just like the Garden of Eden,” he said to himself. “When Eve ate from the Tree of Knowledge, she had disobeyed God’s order. She gave the fruit to Adam who then ate one. God banished them from the Garden, cursed them to grow old and die…thus began the fall of man…”

 Cletus stared closely at the apple’s surface, the red morphing into the face of a red goat. A grin of sharp white teeth, red eyes surrounded by black, a glowing black Ring with a Roman numeral five on it…

 “Are you okay?” Collin asked.

 Cletus whipped his head to Collin. “Oh yes, I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, forcing a grin.

 Cletus turned and set the apple aside.

 “I sure hope we don’t age too,” Keenie added in concern. “I don’t want to lose my pretty face and looks.”

 “That inventor managed to survive for a while,” Collin said.

 “Barely,” Cletus mentioned.

 “We’re still angels,” mentioned Collin. “It is very rare for us to be erased from existence without good reason…”

 “Please don’t say such things!” mumbled Keenie.

 The woman went up to the ornate alter and poured in some herbs into an incense burner. The smell of frankincense and myrrh calmed the cherubs down after a while.

 “I’ll leave you to it,” said the woman. “Stay for as long as you need but stay out of sight more often than naught. If you need anything, just let me know. Be careful dear sheep babies.”

 “Bless you miss,” said Cletus.

 The cherubs bowed in thanks as she left.

 “Sheep babies?” Cletus scowled. “I’m not a freaking baby!”

 “Don’t worry about it,” said Collin.

 Keenie walked up to a stone basin nearby as Collin and Cletus bickered for a bit. Gazing in a small pool of holy water, Keenie thought she saw a ghostly face of a pale woman with long blonde hair, a black crown and large curved horns. The face briefly shifted to another white face with orange eyes and flaming wild auburn colored hair. She blinked a few times and it was gone. She only saw her wide-eyed reflection faintly on the surface. She turned away and arrived beside her comrades.

 The altar before them was made of gold, as was the ornate cross situated on top.

 Keenie, Collin and Cletus knelt down in prayer, tears falling from their faces.

 “Oh mighty Lord, please have mercy on us,” Cletus said. “Please forgive us for the mistakes we made here on Earth.”

 “Father…we only tried to help a broken man get onto the right path,” Keenie said. “We didn’t mean to kill him.”

 “We just want to go home,” Collin added. “We’ll take whatever punishment you give us but please…tell us if there is anything we can do…”

 More moments passed as night fell. Stars and a moon were visible through the glass windows.

“God help the outcasts,” Collin chanted softly. “God help our cherub people. We look to you still. If you can’t help us, nobody will.”

 “I ask for glory. I ask for fame. I ask for redemption to shine on our name,” added Cletus.

 Keenie continued the chant.  “We ask for your guidance, a way to get by. Help us right our fate, listen to our cry.”

 Cletus finished, “Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost, please watch over us.”

 All three said “Amen!” before a colorful portal of clouds opened above them. The cherubs each looked up.  

 “Lord Gabriel?” asked Cletus. “Is that you?”

 A sound of clapping hooves greeted them, followed by a haughty laugh.

 “My my, what a marvelous…pitiful performance!”

 The brown furry face of a winged deer cherub came into view. A sense of smugness and superiority was clearly reflected in her eyes.

 “Deerie?!” the cherubs cried, their faces morphing into angry scowls.

 “Wow, I’d expect a more proper welcome from deferential devotees such as yourselves. The human world getting to you so soon?”

 “What are you doing here?” Keenie asked. “We called for Gabriel.”

 “Gabriel sends you his best regards, and says that you guys can rise again and be fully redeemed after a while…”

 The cherubs smiled until she added, “heheh, yeah, no.”

 Their faces fell.

 “I’m afraid you guys can’t re-enter Heaven, like I said before. Nothing you can do about it. Rules and all.”

 Cletus turned red in the face. “But it was an accident! The imps fought us off. They were the ones trying to kill Lyle Lipton!”

 “But they didn’t, correct? Based on what Heaven has seen, you three not only killed Lyle unintentionally…but you caused much more death and suffering.”

 “What?!” all three cried out.  

 Collin thought back to all the dead audience members. They had been so involved in fighting off their rivals that they didn’t even notice them.

 “It was I.M.P.’s fault!” Keenie argued.

 “Yes, but you also played a role in it,” Deerie explained. “You blindly shot your arrow, which later caused the piano to crush the old man. We see everything, you know.”

 Cletus then turned to Collin. “About that time earlier when you said it ‘wasn’t completely my fault…’”

 Collin stood his ground. “It was though. It was all our faults.” He jabbed a hoof into Cletus. “But you were so adamant to kill off those imps that you didn’t consider who else would be at risk. We should’ve taken the fight outside! I tried to tell you guys earlier!”

 “You’re a literal sheep,” Cletus replied, getting into Collin’s face. “You never said a word; you just followed my orders like you were supposed to.”

 “Those imps are nothing more than dirt that the dead tread on,” Keenie added. “We may be angels, but we never go down without a fight. Surely you’d do well with being less of a wimp, Collin.”

 Collin scoffed. “I’m sorry. I thought we were supposed to be the good guys. The loving guardians who actually help those we meet. I just realized that we didn’t let Lyle Lipton learn his little lesson.”

 “Five times fast,” Cletus snickered, but Collin ignored him.

 “We didn’t tell Lyle how sinful it is to be so immersed in his own greed. He really could’ve used his riches for good if we had stayed to help him like we were supposed to! We should’ve explained to our victims why any of their bad behaviors were wrong. But instead we just left them all behind!”

 “What did you think we were trying to do?!” Keenie yelled. “We showed him nature, childhood wonderment, young love and the arts. And it would’ve worked if it weren’t for those meddlesome…”

 “You done?” Deerie casually asked in the air. She finished filing her hooves and had a bag of popcorn with her. The cherubs turned back to her.

 “Far from it, bitch!” Keenie yelled.

 “Language!” Collin warned.

 “You three have learned nothing, huh? You see scraps, I was briefly summoned here by you guys and I gotta get back soon, so I may as well elaborate on your consequences. Let’s see…”

 Deerie summoned her clipboard and her reading glasses. On her notepad, she had drawn cats and Invader Zim characters. A side note read “more musical episodes?”

 “Not only did you kill one human, but you also killed multiple mortals in the theater. This has made Azrael, the Angel of Death very upset. There are many people that are chosen to die at certain times and let me tell you, having to cross and uncross multiple names can get pretty irksome.”

 The cherubs stood silent.

 “In other words, you’re also in trouble for simply…oh I don’t know…doing a business and going to Earth without the permission from your superiors! A big no-no.”

 “But we were saving people’s lives, and teaching them God’s true path…” Cletus began.

 “…or more than likely, saving humans just to boost about your company accomplishments.”

 “I knew it!” Collin called, glaring at Cletus. “Our main purpose is to help humans because it’s the right thing to do. I knew I should have stayed at my record-keeping job.”

 “You and Keenie thought joining C.H.E.R.U.B. with me was a good idea and it was!” Cletus protested.

 “Cherubs are supposed to do various record keeping for soul count, religions, sins and choices made by humans etc.,”Deerie said. “Just proves that I do my job better than you three after all!”

 Keenie smirked. “You sure you’re still not jealous because we got to go on exciting adventures? That we became more famous than you?”  

 Deerie chuckled. “More like infamous now. Cletus especially, you gave into your pride and wrath during the fight. You cherubs are supposed to help spread the holy word of God, and not go into the human world unless necessary.”

 The cherubs lowered their heads a bit.  

 “Not to mention several people you saved ended up as criminals. You know, the kind of people who abuse their children, scam others into giving them money, enslaving citizens in other countries…”

 “How were we supposed to know all of that?!” Keenie cried. “We saved their lives at the request of their loved ones in Heaven!”

 “Which, in turn can cause more global suffering and even an altering of history itself,” Deerie explained. “Lyle was destined to die and go to Hell anyway. Your actions are not befitting to your titles as cherubs in the first place. I’m surprised no one has managed to sell you on the black market yet. I guess you can be referred to as…black sheep now!”

 Deerie burst into laughter, slapping her furry knees.

 “Get out,” Cletus muttered.

 Deerie laughed some more, wiping tears from her large eyes. “Oh dearie me, I’m so clever!”

 Cletus thought he saw a grinning man’s face with red eyes and licking his lips behind Deerie.

 Cletus shook the vision away before yelling, “No I’m serious, get the fuck out!”

 “Language!” the other three shouted, their voices echoing in the vast space. The silence was deafening. Or the noises were hearing.

 “Well then, I wish you three a fun time on Earth,” Deerie said. “Feel free to not call me again. I have no use dealing with fallen sheep anyway.”

 “Can you at least tell us what will happen to us next?” Collin asked.

 “Oh that’s actually pretty simple,” Deerie explained.  “I.M.P. will be dealt with in due time. But as for you three…”

 She pointed her hooves at Collin, Cletus and Keenie, who each gasped in turn. “In Gabriel’s words: ‘You will still redeem and protect human souls but this time under closer supervision. You will learn to live among them for a while in the hopes that your arrogance toward those different from yourselves will subside over time. Only after your true redemption may you return to Heaven. I have the utmost faith in you.’ End quote.”

 The three cherubs sighed in relief.

 “Oh one last thing,” Deerie grinned. “I forgot to tell you the best part.” Collin and the others did not like the look on her face.

 Deerie continued. “Now that you’re here on Earth, you will all be vulnerable to human emotions and sins. Pride, greed, lust, anger, you know it.”

 “Not gonna happen lady,” Keenie spat with her hands on her hips.  

 “Everyone save for God has flaws. You didn’t think that redeeming yourselves would be a stroll in the clouds did you?”

 The cherubs looked at each other.

 “Yeah, so basically you all have a limited time to prove yourselves on Earth. A couple days at the very least?”

 Collin whimpered with droopy ears as his white halo above him briefly flickered.

 “Yeah, so if you don’t complete your mission in time…it’s a one-way trip down for you!”

 The cherubs yelled while grabbing onto each other.

 “Yes indeed!” Deerie said. “I can see you three reluctantly joining up with I.M.P.’s rivals to enact your revenge, turning into the winged devils you were destined to become!”

 “Nooooooo!” they cried in horror.

 Deerie then let out a childish laugh, waving her hoof. “But hey, that’s just a theory! I look forward to hearing about your…pandemonium adventures in the next few episodes!”

 Deerie waved and called, “That’s a wrap! Bye!”

 Cletus charged at her again, but she vanished through the portal and it closed.

 “No, no, no!” Cletus sobbed again, his co-workers comforting him.

 After several minutes, the cherubs stared at the stars and moon through one long window.

 “You know guys,” Collin admitted, “Though you might be a pain in my behind at times, you’re still like my family. Whether we’re in Heaven, Earth or Hell…we can get through anything as long as we stick together.”

 Keenie gave Collin a comforting side hug. Cletus soon joined in and he sighed. “That’s one thing we can all agree on.”

 After staring at the heavens, Cletus said, “We’d better rest up…we have lots of work to do.”

 The three cherubs huddled together underneath another Christmas tree, sleeping on a comfortable red rug.

 Though the mighty had fallen, they could only hope that the meek could rise.

#helluvaboss #cherub

[sun-flower-children]

Party Jealousy

Peter Parker x male reader

FLUFF

A/N: requested by an anon

(Y/N) and Peter had been friends since the beginning of middle school. Peter being shyer and interest is unconventional things were more of an outcast but (Y/N) was more social and it came to no surprise to anyone that he became popular. His outgoing and positive energy just really vibed with everyone. Through middle school (Y/N) stuck by Peter making their friendship known. During their middle school experience (Y/N) would try to bring Peter to the dances, so that he too could enjoy the evening with his friend group. Peter being the small nervous bean that he is, he never agreed to attend leaving (Y/N) pouting that he wouldn’t come. 

Over time they developed other friendships: Peter with Ned and (Y/N) with his friends. In highschool not much had changed except that now people were coming up to (Y/N) confessing their feelings or asking him out. Boys and girls all over school had thrown their hearts out to him and every time he politely declined to say that they seemed like wonderful people but he just wasn’t looking for a relationship. Peter and (Y/N) still hung out often, reserving every other Saturday was specially reserved for each other. Often spent taking pictures, walking around while discussing everything and nothing. Many of the pictures on (Y/N) Instagram had been taken by Peter himself.

 It was during one of these hangouts that Peter realized something about himself. Every time you would laugh his heart would flutter. When you would hug him he would feel nervous butterflies flying around in his stomach and feel his cheeks tint dusty pink. His heart beats two times faster when he sees you wearing a sleeveless tank or a tight-fitting shirt. Peter cherished your guys’ friendship too much to ever think of confessing. You had become too big of a piece in his life to ever let you go. He kept these to himself, doing his best so that no one would ever guess that he felt his way towards his best friend.

Then in their senior year, (Y/N) dutifully asked Peter to come to one of his friend’s house parties, knowing full well that Peters only New Years’ resolution was to talk to people more. Peter couldn’t say no to your cute pouting face when you asked him to please go with you so that he could at least try to fulfill his resolution. The party was in the richer part of town and you popped over to Peter’s house to help him dress up. You had the key, as Aunt May trusted you, and walked yourself into their apartment. 

“ Peter ?” You asked.

 “ Huh? (Y/N)? Uh yeah, I’m here.” 

He was standing in front of this closet trying to decide what to wear. 

“ You still haven’t chosen what to wear? Dude’s a casual party, don’t sweat it.” 

“ Easy for you to say. You go to these all the time!” 

“ Do you want me to help you then? Put my expertise to the test?”

Peter slapped your arm in a joking manner making you laugh. 

“ I got you that pair of ripped jeans last year for your birthday. You should wear those. Oh! And that one t-shirt that makes your arms look more buff.”

He stared back at you blankly. Clearly sending the message of ‘I know your saying words but I am just not computing anything. Send help’. (Y/N) sighed gently pushing Peter out of the way to rummage through his closet to find the items he previously mentioned. 

“ Pete you need to clean out your closet. You still have clothes from middle school that doesn’t even fit you anymore! C’mon.”

Peter mumbled a ‘sorry’ as he sat down on the bed, pulling out his phone to scroll through Instagram as he waited. 

“ Boom! Pete here’s your outfit including socks. I already choose your shoes. While you change I am going to make some enchiladas so that we don’t starve. We don’t know what food there’ll be.”

After changing and eating the two of them hopped into (Y/N)’s car. After driving twenty-something minutes they arrived and Peter slunk into his seat. You put your right hand on his thigh and looked at him straight in the eye. 

“ Pete.”

“ Uh-huh?” 

“ You look hot and I am confident that you can make it through this party only after having some fun. If you ever feel overwhelmed just come up to me and tug my shirt two times. You won’t even have to say anything. Okay?”

Peter took a deep breath, looking away from your face and instead st your hand, feeling his face warm-up from your gaze and your words. 

“ Yeah Okay.”

You beamed back at him and gently squeezed his thigh. 

“ Let’s go have some fun.” 

Just walking up to the house three people greeted you and you were almost bombarded by people when you walked to the food table. You being you smiled at everyone and, to those you knew better, you exchanged choreographed handshakes. As you being mingling Peter squeaked out some lame excuse to leave the large group to someplace that was less densely populated with people. Awkwardly leaning against a wall, with a cup in his left hand, and his phone in his right.

“ So you came to this lame party too?”

Peter’s head shot up quickly making eye contact with a familiar face.

“ Hey MJ.”

“ This isn’t typically your scene. Shouldn’t you be home playing with your legos?” She joked. Peter knew her well enough to know that she didn’t mean any harm. 

“ I let (Y/N) drag me to this party.”

“ Oh? You let him?”

“ Y-yeah.”

MJ leaned on the wall right next to him and looked into the party. More specifically straight at (Y/N).

“ He’s hot.”

“ Yeah, he’s attractive.” Peter let himself agree because he doesn’t spend hours of his day looking over pictures that he has of you that he hasn’t let you see yet. He let himself think about the last time the two of you hung out and began reminiscing the photos he took. While he was zoned out he was unaware that MJ was still talking to him. Until she shook his arm. 

“ Peter look there’s a girl clinging onto his arm. Is (Y/N) even straight? I’m pretty sure he’s gay.”

He couldn’t help himself and quickly looked in your direction to see that in fact there was a girl standing a little to close to you for his liking. Peter felt this angry heat slowly fill up his chest thinking ‘ how dare she stay to close to him’ but immediately seeing his negative reaction he took deep breaths to calm himself. ‘ I don’t have any control over him. He can do whatever he wants.’ Then why did he feel like this? The two of you weren’t romantically involved and he was just a friend in your eyes.

“ Peter you look really angry. What is doing on?”

Without even saying anything MJ put two and two together. How is gaze was trained on you and how you were mingling with the other party attendees. MJ was going to open her mouth to say something when suddenly Peter walked away from the wall towards you. As Peter made his way to you another girl started touching your chest. 

“ Oh hey, Pete-”

Peter quickly pulled the bottom oh your shirt twice and then started walking outside. (Y/N) said that he needed to go outside quickly and went after Peter. He was waiting for you by where you parked your car. 

“ Hey, Pete what’s wrong.”

“I am really angry and it’s totally stupid too.”

“ Pete you are not stupid and your feelings are valid. Just tell me what happened.”

“ I was talking to MJ and then she pointed out how you had girls coming up to all the time and that they were always flirting with you. You’re always letting them touch you. It’s really really frustrating to see you like that. Then I started feeling really angry and I could feel all of this negative energy in my chest. It made me feel like a bomb about to explode. I’m sorry this is stupid I should have let you stay in the party.” Peter rambled.

He stared at his feet as if they were the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. His face felt like it was melting off and the thudding of his heart was almost like a throbbing head ached. He was mentally preparing himself to get told off or even rejected for what hints of a crush that he just gave. Hands clenched to his sides and he just now noticed how his classic plastic red cup is beyond destroyed as he is holding it with a death grip. Noticed how his vision was starting to blur and bring upon arm to wipe what he was desperately hoping are not tears. Without saying anything (Y/N) wrapped his arms around him. Peter instinctively wrapped his arms around your torso bringing you closer, engulfing himself in your familiar scent. At some point, you started to sway and he just followed your rhythm after resting your head on his shoulder/head ( depending on how tall you are). 

“ I’m sorry (Y/N)” Peter mumbled into your shirt.

 “ I didn’t know you felt that way, Pete.”

“ I didn’t know I could be that angry at someone I don’t know.”  

“ Let’s just go home. I don’t really want to be here if it’s making you cry.”

Peter didn’t say anything but he nodded in agreement and the two settled back into the car for the short drive back. There was no more talking but the soft sounds of the jazz radio playing through the radio. Peter wrapped his arms around himself feeling the cold air from the half-opened window. Wordlessly  (Y/N) understood and reached in the backseat for his hoodie which he immediately gave to the cold boy. Now having a warm and comforting layer he could enjoy the fresh air from outside and you drove him. After parking your car, you both walked up the stairs to his door. Before he could open the door, you pulled Peter back into another hug. 

“ Pete do something nice for yourself and don’t beat yourself up about. Crying is a normal thing for humans to do.” Your voice was soft and gentle with a rhythm that calmed him down. Before letting him go you brought one hand to tuck some of his hair behind his ear. 

“ Go to bed at a reasonable time Pete. Do it for me please.” 

After kissing him gently on his forehead and turned around for your car.

“ (Y/N)!” Peter whisper-yelled.

“ Yeah, Pete!” You whisper-yelled back as you turned around. 

“ You know I kind of confessed to you earlier.”

“ I do.”

And with that, you turned around again for the last time that night and didn’t look back.

#fic recs #peter parker #x reader #x male reader #male reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x reader #mervel #spider man c reder #spiderverse #spiderverse x male reader #spiderverse x reader #peter

[adolanables]

INFLUENCED - Part 4 (G.D.)

Influenced Masterlist

PART 4

“Y/N?” Grayson’s sleepy, half-open eyes blinked vigorously at the small girl crouched down on his patio. “What is going on..?”

Your face was almost crunchy at this point, from the salty tears drying on your cheeks. The still slightly damp clothing clung to your body uncomfortably, your shoes long gone. The cool concrete of the patio felt nice on your cheek, the side of your body aching slightly as you tried to sit up as the door opened. The very tired arm you had used to lightly tap on the door for who knows how long fell down to the ground next to you.

 “Jesus.” Grayson’s voice was quiet and breathy as he leaned down and pulled you up onto your feet, his strong arms supporting you fully. He hushed you as you tried to protest, lifting your legs up into his arms and heading down the hallway. The small lights that decorated the hallway lit up his face ever so slightly, his strong jaw illuminated and the twinkle of his eye apparent –but dull. He side-stepped his bed as he entered the large room, heading straight to the bathroom. Your thighs connected with the cool marble vanity, your upper body slumping over slightly as Grayson stepped away from you for a moment. 

“You need to shower, Y/N.” He was grabbing towels and other necessities from around the bathroom. “You’re freezing, covered in dirt... what in god’s name happened?” His strong hands landed on your knees, rubbing gently. All you could do was look up at him in confusion, your eyes wide and bloodshot –you had no idea how you got here or why you were covered in mud. 

Tears started to well up in your eyes as you shook your head slowly.“I-I don’t -know.” You whimpered, your body shivering unwillingly. Realizing you didn’t  have your phone or house keys, you started to panic slightly, your breathing increasing rapidly. 

“Hey, hey.” Grayson’s voice lowered and softened, his eyes connecting with yours and hand coming up to rub your arm soothingly. “You’re safe okay? That’s all that matters... you’re safe.”His words soothed you slightly, you nodded your head at him and stifled your tears somewhat. “Do you think you can shower on your own?” He questioned, his brow furrowing slightly, but he didn’t back away from you. As he moved to turn the shower on, you wanted to say no just so he’d help you, but knew you shouldn’t. You shook your head yes and he helped you down off of the counter, taking a seat on the small chair in the corner –his right hand coming up to cover his eyes. “I’m closing them til you get in, but I’m scared you’re gonna fall or something so I’m not leaving.”

“Okay.” You spoke softly, making sure he didn’t move his hand as you peeled the sticky clothes from your body. The warm water rushed over your body as you stepped into the shower and shut the door, a soft sight escaping your mouth as the filth from the night washed right off of you. You were so, so confused on what happened. The last thing you remember was leaving the party with Charlotte and waiting for an Uber. After that, nothing. Grayson opening the door was the first memory you could grasp onto. Soaking in the warm shower, you continued to clean yourself off, your eyes shutting softly as the body wash you used reminded you of Grayson. 

“Hey, um –I'm done... I’m about to get out.”

“Eyes closed!” Grayson spoke loudly so you could hear him. As you stepped out, you glanced over at the boy again, his hand pressed firmly over his eyes. “There are some pajamas on the counter if you’re okay with it.”

“Oh -yeah... thank you.” You replied, drying yourself off and slipping into the warm clothing he provided. The warm flannel of the pajama pants and the soft cotton of the t-shirt felt foreign on your skin, parts of your body felt bruised and swollen. “All dressed.”

 He stood up from the chair, a small smile on his lips as he took in your outfit –thinking you looked absolutely beautiful in his clothes, but he wouldn’t tell you that. His tan fingers shoved an unopened toothbrush towards you and he sauntered out of the room slowly, glancing over his shoulder as you started to brush. Seeing you make yourself at home in his space made his heart swell, but it also felt like a knife in his gut as he realized he couldn’t ever treat you the way he wanted to.

--- -

Your bare feet connected with plush carpet as you walked out into Grayson’s bedroom. It felt like the wind was knocked out of you when you saw him lying on top of the covers, shirtless and in a pair of flannel pants that looked just like the ones you were wearing. He glanced up from his phone to look at you as he heard you enter the room, his eyes softened slightly as he looked at you. “Wanna talk or wanna sleep?” He sat up, patting the bed next to him for you to sit down. 

“Both?” You sighed, sinking down onto the large king bed that was in the center of a pretty extravagant master bedroom. The walls around you were painted navy blue –an extremely calming color.

 “I’m sorry.” He blurted out, his left hand reaching out to rest on your knee. “I shouldn’t have been a jerk to you about your friend... I was just jealous.” You looked up at him, stomach flipping as you saw his lower lip tucked between his teeth in concentration. 

“Thank you...” You whispered, reaching down to rest your hand on top of his. “I’m sorry too –for how I handled that.” His eyes searched your face as you spoke softly, his body inching nearer to yours like a magnet. “And for tonight –and this –I... I don’t know what got into me. I just saw you and started taking shots... and then I saw you with that girl and started taking more. I can’t even remember ho-”

“Girl?” He stopped you, confusion written all over his face. 

“The blonde one?” You questioned.

“Oh, her.” He scoffed, laughing softly. “Genuinely don’t know that girl from any other one on the street –I was trying to distract myself from staring at you.”

“Oh.” You felt your cheeks turn red, heart rate increasing as he leaned closer to you, moving his hand from your knee to wrap around your waist. With ease, he lifted you into his lap so you were fully straddling him. Both of his strong arms rested around your waist, his grip strong. You tucked yours around his neck, pressing your chest against his.

“Y/N?” Grayson peered up at you through his thick lashes, a slight red tint on his cheeks that matched yours. You breathed out deeply and nodded at him, your hands lazily tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Can I kiss you?” He breathed, you could feel how fast his heart was beating .Without responding, you leaned in closer to him, pulling his face up to meet yours. As your lips connected softly, his hands squeezed your hips, a soft sigh escaping his mouth. He leaned into you, deepening the kiss, his soft lips felt like velvet against yours –every movement sending a rush to every last inch of your body. Kissing Grayson felt like the best drug anyone had ever tried. As you pulled away from him and looked into his eyes, you knew you were absolutely screwed. He rested his forehead against yours, peering into your y/e/c eyes and trying to calm his breathing down. Little did you know he was thinking the exact same thing.

- -

A knock on the door and the sleepy voice of Ethan woke Grayson from the deep slumber he was in. “Hey, Gray –why are you still asleep it’s nearly noon, I wa-” His voice caught in his throat as he stepped further into the room, his mouth falling open as he saw his younger brother curled tightly around the small girl he’s been losing his mind over for the past few weeks. 

Grayson’s head popped up from the pillow quickly and he widened his eyes, trying to shoo Ethan out before he woke you. Ethan took the hint and shuffled backwards out of the bedroom, shutting the door softly as he left. Grayson’s small movements behind you caused you to wake up slightly, a small groan leaving your lips as the incredible hangover hit you. You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face back into the soft pillow, your body curling even closer to Grayson’s. Thankfully, you had gotten here with enough of your mind to remember you fell asleep next to him –fully clothed –after a few hours of staring at each other and talking. He hadn’t kissed you again after the first time, his signature awkward-ness coming out in full force.  

“Good morning.” He whispered into your hair, his arm that was wrapped around your waist squeezed you into him. “How’s your head feeling?”

“Bad.” You sighed, taking a moment to turn over so you could wrap your body around his, pressing your face into his warm chest. He laughed lightly and held you close to him, his free hand running through the ends of your hair that fanned out behind you. 

“Want some ibuprofen? Some water and food maybe?” His words were soft, very well aware of how hard your head must be pounding. 

“Nooo, just hold me.” You whined, pulling the covers up over your head. 

“Let me at least go get you some medicine and water, then I’ll get back in bed, yeah?” He pulled away from you so you would look him in the eyes, the corner of his mouth inching up into a smile as he saw your grumpy expression. “I’ll be back.” He rolled out of the bed and walked quickly towards the kitchen –the strong muscles on his bare back making you throw your head into the pillows in frustration. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had spent the night with someone. Sure, he was painfully awkward around you at times, but you were positive you weren’t much better. It wasn’t like you had years and years of experience with dating.

----

“How the hell did she get here?” Ethan’s voice startled Grayson as he rounded the corner to grab two cups of water and the large ball of ibuprofen. 

“No clue –she couldn’t remember a thing.” Grayson shrugged, glancing over at his older brother. “I think it was like 5AM when the motion alarm on the front porch went off... she was soaking wet and covered in mud. No phone, no keys –nothing.”

“Geez.” Ethan winced, resting his head in his hand. “So how did she end up in your bed?” He wiggled his eyebrows, a playful grin on his face.

“Shut up.” Grayson murmured, gathering everything he needed to head back into his room. “We just slept –that's it. I felt bad for her.”

“Oh, don’t even try and pretend you weren’t absolutely losing your mind having her in your bed.” Ethan laughed dramatically. “You haven’t shut up about Y/N since you met her.”

“Yea, and?” Grayson shot him a look, his voice lowering slightly. “Does it even matter? You and I both know I can’t seriously date anyone without the entire world wanting to have a say.” 

Ethan sighed, his head nodding slowly –fully understanding where his brother was coming from. “I know.”

---

When Grayson came back into the room, you were fully asleep –instead of waking you, he decided to just climb in with you and get some more rest himself. He would give you the medicine the next time you woke up. 

That just happened to be approximately 4PM. You glanced over at the alarm clock and shut your eyes tightly, fully convinced Charlotte had probably called the police by now. Thankfully, it seems you had slept off the worst of your hangover. Since you had been asleep, it seemed Grayson had found his way back to you –his face buried in your hair, small puffs of air escaping his lips with every breath. You took a moment to appreciate the position you were in. In a full arm-lock underneath a shirtless Grayson Dolan –in his clothes –in his bed. Whew, you knew there were millions of girls who would kill for this. 

“Gray?” You spoke softly, trying to wiggle out of his death-grip slightly so you could wake him. 

“Mm..” He grumbled, his eyes fluttering slightly, but eventually resting shut. He buried his face deeper into the crook of your neck and placed a soft kiss there, sending chills over your entire body. “Sleep.”

“It’s 4PM.” You giggled, throwing your leg over his hip –the contact made his eyes open and he took in a sharp breath.

 “Oh.” He blinked a few times, your face coming into his sight –creating a beautiful grin on that pretty tanned face of his. “You got somewhere to be?”

“Nowhere.” You shook your head, nuzzling your head into the hand he was using to tuck your hair behind your ear. “But -I do need to find a way to contact Charlotte...”

He rolled over onto his side, grabbed his phone off the bedside table and clicked a few times until he landed on Charlotte’s instagram page. He let out a loud laugh as he went to message her, but seen she had already sent him about 50 messages in a row –one including her phone number. He dialed it into his key-pad and pressed the phone to your ear

.“Hello?” Charlotte’s voice picked up, a bit less peppy than usual.

“Hey, it’s me...” You muttered, knowing you were about to get completely chewed out for this one.

“Y/N, Y/L/N!! What the fuck, I have been worried SICK!” She screeched, her volume making you pull the phone away from your ear and Grayson’s eyes widen. “WHERE did you GO?” 

“Char, calm down –I'm safe.” You assured her. “I’m at Grayson’s... I have NO idea how I got here, I was hoping you could help me figure that out.” 

“Oh my god, Y/N. You freaking jumped out of our Uber at a stop light and ran off –we stopped and looked for you for hours.” Charlotte’s voice was softer now, clearly just happy to know you were okay. “I’ve got your phone and purse at home... do you need me to come get you?”

Grayson shook his head at you, signifying he was more than willing to drive you home. “No, Char, that’s okay –thank you for getting my things. I will be home later, yeah?”

“Okay, Y/N. I’ll see you.” Charlotte muttered, hanging up the phone.

“Sounds like you’re in big trouble.” Grayson teased, his face nuzzling back into your neck. “You jumped out of a car for me... impressive.”

“Oh my god.” You moaned shutting your eyes in embarrassment. Grayson laughed loudly, his arms circling around you once again, needing your body as close to his as possible.

----

“Thanks again for driving me home... and rescuing me.” You muttered, glancing over at Grayson, but landing your eyes in your lap –his plaid pajama pants still on your legs. He had taken Ethan’s jeep instead of the Porsche this time, you weren’t sure why, but didn’t question it too much.

 “Anytime, Y/N.” He smiled over at you, his hair tousled messily over his forehead. The two of you hadn’t spent that much more time in bed before you decided you should probably head home and try to gather yourself. You wanted to confirm with Grayson that he’d be texting you later or something, but something in you felt uncomfortable doing so. 

“See ya.” You grinned at him, hopping out of the Jeep quickly and shuffling inside to face the impending doom of Charlotte.

---

“Jesus christ, Y/N, I was so worried about you.” Charlotte engulfed you in a hug immediately upon entering the small house. “I was thinking you got murdered or something. How did you end up with Grayson?”

“Char, I have no idea.” You sighed, pulling away from her as the two of you walked into the living room and collapsed on the couch. “I just showed up on Grayson’s porch –soaking wet and muddy?”

 “Yikes.” She shook her head, wincing at the small bruises littering your legs. “So... what happened with him?”

“He apologized for how he acted... and so did I.” You nodded, wrapping the warm blanket around your shoulders. “We kissed...”

“You KISSED!?” Charlotte shrieked, her demeanor changing completely.

“Yes, yes, hush.” You giggled, closing your eyes slightly. “But... I don’t know, I just can’t get the nagging idea out of my head that something is just... off?”

“Well yeah, Y/N.” Charlotte sighed. “The Dolan Twins have never publicly dated anyone –it's like a thing.”

You nodded at her, shutting your eyes to rest  on the couch as you took in the information. Of course you knew this –how couldn’t you? It would be a career hit if either of them ever went off the market, so if it wasn’t THE girl, there was no way they would every actually date anyone.

---

Charlotte’s words rattled through your mind for the rest of the night. “It’s like a thing.” You buried your face into your pillow, trying to ignore the ominous warning. When Grayson kissed you it was like your entire world had frozen for those few seconds, like nothing in the world mattered except him. Waking up in his arms felt like it was what you should have been doing your entire life, but you were terrified. He was a sort of famous that scared you to your core. Every second of his life was either documented or scrutinized and if he didn’t want anyone to know about you, you knew it would hurt you. You wondered if he would ever actually tell you he couldn’t be with you. Would he just string you along until you got so frustrated with being hidden that you left? You couldn’t be sure, but when your phone lit up with his name, you knew you didn’t care. 

*graysondolan followed you on instagram*

*goodnight : )* 

#influenced!grayson #influenced #grayson #ethan #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #the dolan twins #twins #dolan twins #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan x reader #dolan twin fanfic #grayson dolan fluff

[angelic-holland]

Seeing the Thing 9

Summary: I never have to carefully shape sentences when I’ve got some words to say, they’re falling from my mouth from the time that they hit my brain.

Warnings: angst, fluff, panic attacks, and smut (not necessarily in that order) 

Word Count: 5k

A/N: I originally hated the way I ended this chapter so I added another 1.5k words until I was happy. I was listening to the Double Dare album by Waterparks on repeat when writing this as you can see from the summary. anyone else love them? bold are text messages! 

Tom: u up?

Tom: Do you like my costume

Tom: I got to put on the winter pants and coat

Tom: but i think this makes a good first few layers

Tom: what do you think???

You roll your eyes as you place your computer on your desk before sitting back down on your bed.

You: did anyone tell you it’s rude to send a thousand messages instead of just one long one?

Tom: i only sent 5

Tom: do i need to send 995 more???

Tom: okay i get your point

Tom: but this is how i talk

Tom: text whatever

Tom: I think I look hot

You sigh, he does look hot. That wasn’t the problem. He looked like an annoying fuck boy. Which wasn’t that far off from the truth.

Tom: do you think I look hot??

You: you’re so fucking annoying

Tom: come sit on my face and shut me up

Tom: that’s totally a yes btw

Tom: come on, come visit and check it out in person

Those last three texts were sent in quick succession and you did a double-take at the first one.

Your fingers hovered over the screen to type but you genuinely had no words. 

***

Tom smacked himself at his first text. Too forward. Way too forward. 

He watched as the grey bubbles popped up and then disappeared several times. He knew you weren’t going to respond, probably weirded out. 

He sent the next two texts and had several drafts after that.

I’m sorry

No, he knew how if he didn’t specify what he was sorry for you’d give him shit and that was the last thing he needed right now.

That was weird just ignore that

Nope, you wouldn’t be able to ignore that so it was pointless to suggest it.

He attempted to think of another thought, anything really to relieve the tension he felt rising in his chest.

Maybe he’d wait for you to respond. It was a strategic plan, other than the fact that your possible responses were gnawing at his insides. 

***

You were about to respond, a quick omw because fuck it right? When your phone died. 

So you hastily changed into a matching set of underwear, white with a lilac lace trim, determined to confront him about his message in person since your poorly timed phone dying left you no other choice. 

You took a deep breath as you smoothed down your T-shirt, you weren’t going to let your nerves get the best of you, not today. It’s been nearly a year since you’ve had sex and although yes, you would admit that you wanted to have sex with Tom, you had no idea if you were ready. So after brushing through your hair quickly you figured you would show up at his dorm, work through whatever haze of feelings were bubbling up inside you, and make your decision then. You checked your phone to see if he replied, if actually wanted you to go to his dorm or if he was fucking with you. 

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Maybe this was a sign, a sign that you shouldn’t go down and do something you might regret the next day. The more you thought as that knocking started to piss you off the more you realized you’d only regret it if Tom did something to ruin the mood, if he treated you like one of his weekend hookups. You figured it would be hard for him to do that. You spent every night at rehearsal together. But what about after the show? Did you want to have something more with Tom? Whatever that might entail? Would you be able to after the bullshit Ben put you through? 

But your thoughts were cut short by that annoying fucking knocking and holy shit-

“Hi,” Tom smirks, leaning against the side of your door as you groan.

“Maybe only knock three times? Knocking for a long time is pretty rude.”

“Sorry, I just uh, I heard your feet tapping and I knew you were in there and I wanted to see if-, oh,” Tom let’s out a surprised yelp as you pull him into the room, kissing him as you slam the door behind him.

“I’m glad you liked my message,” he laughs against your lips as your fingers curl into the denim jacket, his slipping down to rest against your hips, thumbs fitting nicely in the belt loop of your shorts.

“Mhm,” you mumble, eyeing the beanie on his head to the winter boots on his feet.

“And the outfit?”

“I think Jenna will be very happy with your costume choice.”

“Let’s not talk about Jenna, or the costumes, or the show,” Tom rolls his eyes as you take a step back, fingers tight on his jacket, forcing him to take a step with you.

“What should we talk about then?” You ask, resting your hands against his chest through the layers of your clothes. 

“Let’s not talk,” he whispers, eyes searching for a confirmation that you want the same thing.

You respond with what he’s looking for, rising on your toes to meet his lips again, your hand tugs the beanie out of his hair, tossing it to the side.

His fingers tug on your belt loop, your hips meeting his as your hands work on pulling off his denim jacket. Your lips move with ease against his, it’s gentle and calming as his hand moves to cup your face, thumb rubbing your cheek as you pull your lips off his. 

“How many layers you got under here?”

“Why don’t ya find out?” He smiles gently and you laugh before grabbing at the end of his gray sweatshirt. 

With each layer you get a little more frustrated and Tom’s laughing hard when you finally get to his bare skin and nearly jump into his arms.

“Thank fuck,” you grumble, kissing him as his feet work to kick off the boots before he fumbles forward, lips trailing down your jaw while his fingers work on unbuttoning your shorts.

“This okay?” He mutters, lips against your neck as your hands roam the expanse of his back, the both of you still standing sort of awkwardly in the middle of your room, surrounded by his many layers.

“You got a condom?” You sigh as he helps you shuffle your shorts down your legs. 

His breath hitches as he steps back slightly to take a look at your panties, more specifically the small wet spot in the front of them, foot just inches too far back and he’s tripping over his boot.

You catch him with a grunt and your arms are wrapped around his waist, pulling him back up to a standing position.

“Maybe we should get on the bed?” He nods towards it and your hands trail to his hips, he’s all tight muscles and you want to trace the lines on his stomach with your lips but you settle for dragging your fingers across them as you back up.

His hand reaches out to stop you, a light weight on your shoulder as the other moves to pull at your T-shirt. His breath hitches again as he sees your bra, the way your breasts look so pretty and he wanted to devour you.

“Did you get all matching for me?” He wiggles his eyebrows and you laugh, shrugging as your knees back into your bed.

You swing your legs up and open them wide, letting Tom get a better view of you.

You can’t help the blush that spreads across your cheeks and down your chest as he groans, pulling a silver packet out of his sweatpants before pulling them down while you settle on your elbows. He looks so good, chest rising and falling, standing next to you, eyes soft as he admires your body. There’s something there, just below the surface of his dark brown eyes, past the lust and hunger. It sends a nervous shiver down your spine and you push down the feeling because right now you just want him. 

He places the condom strategically next to your leg as he settles between them, hands running up and down your bare thighs and you bite back a moan.

“Be loud for me darling,” he mutters before his lips begin to trail up your thigh, he turns your thigh slightly, biting down lightly on the inside before soothing the spot with his tongue. Smirking against you at your small yelp.

“Don’t wanna, don’t want the RA to come knocking.”

“Gimme a second,” Tom pauses his movement, hand reaching down off the side of your bed for his phone.

“What’re you doing?” You tilt your head as he starts to type.

“Gimme a sec,” he nods as a song begins to play. 

“What?”

“To drown out all your moans.”

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re like, super cocky?” You tilt your head as he puts his phone on the bedside table before settling back in between your thighs.

“Only about every day, I dunno, looks like someone enjoys it,” he smirks as he runs a finger over your panties.

“Fuck,” you groan, dropping your head to the pillow, “you’re right.”

You concentrate on the feeling of his fingers slipping into the sides of your panties, attempting to tug them down your legs. You both realize you’re in a bad position for this, your thighs wide apart, his shoulders brushing against them from where he was laying. 

“Whoops,” He laughs, sitting up, shoulders bumping into your knees as you help him by sitting up and shimmying the panties off your legs as he sits back.

And the sight of your folds, glistening and wet for him has Tom’s eyes darken before he’s pushing you back, one hand moving to cup your breast while the other holds him above your body. 

And right as you’re about to focus on wrapping your legs around his waist you hear the lyrics of the song that’s playing in the background. 

I don’t see nothing wrong with a little bump and grind

I don’t see nothing wrong, baby, baby, hey

And as Tom’s lips drag across the skin of your collarbone, fingers finding their way to your entrance, your arms snake around his shoulders, eyes slipping shut. 

“Fine, What song would you play? Bump N Grind?”

Pause.

“Oh my god. Don’t tell me that’s on there.”

You take one look at your best friend and hold back a sigh, “it is isn’t it?”

Harrison was totally using Tom’s sex playlist. You didn’t realize how distracted you were, that you broke into a fit of laughter before Tom’s lips smack against your skin and his fingers slip out of you.

“Is something funny?” He mutters against your skin and you look down at the boy, lips moving back to make the skin right below the dip in your collarbone.

“Sorry, But is this like your sex playlist?” You laugh again, a small giggle turned into a moan as Tom’s thumb grazes your clit.

“Maybe, are you distracted? Needa take a break?” He asks, he isn’t used to this. For the girl he’s with not falling apart at the seams the second he has them in bed. The fact that you haven’t even been very vocal, other than the laughter ringing in his ears was puzzling. So he set himself determined to make you feel good, adding another finger as he fucked into you.

And you felt sort of bad, that you let your mind wander. Tom was making you feel good, no doubt about it, each thrust of his fingers sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Come on, fuck me,” you moan as your legs tighten around his hips.

“Mhm,” he grunts before fumbling for the condom, tearing it open. Your hands push at his boxers and his mouth is hot and wet against your neck. 

Once he kicks off his boxers he helps you slide the condom on, his lips meet yours as you grind your wet folds against his cock. 

And his lips are sweet and soft and everything you’ve ever wanted and more, even as you’re about to fuck they’re gentle. And you want him to get a move on but you’re savoring the time now, his fingers pressed against your hips, tongue searching your mouth for something you can’t place your finger on but also don’t want to. You attempt to channel your energy and focus on the here and now, something you had trouble with sometimes. 

But all of that disappears from your mind as he’s slowly pushing into you, his fingers tightening around your hip in time with your legs around his waist. 

“Fuck,” you whimper against his lips as he fills you just right. 

His hips are a steady weight against yours as your creaky dorm bed thump thump thump smacks against the wall with his movements. The music drowns out the sounds of your moans and whimpers against his lips, touch me tease me feel me and caress me, hold on tight and don’t let go. 

You normally didn’t kiss this much during sex, maybe it was the position, Tom on top of you, or maybe it was because you were afraid of what he’d say if his lips weren’t occupied doing other things. So when your mouths finally broke apart because both of you were gasping for air, the oxygen between you running out, you ran your fingers through his hair before pushing his head towards your neck.

“Want me to mark you darlin?”

Mark you. 

The words were so primal. The look in his eyes was primal as well, pure want as he fucks into you, his thumb slipping between your hot and sweaty bodies to rub against your clit. A wave of pleasure crashes over you before you realize he’s waiting for a response, oops hovering over a spot on the side of your neck.

“Please,” you moan, pleasure coursing through your veins. 

His hips stutter against your own before his teeth sink into your skin, causing you to cry out and clench around him before his lips suck over this teeth marks. His tongue soothes the mark and you remember that you’ll have to hide it, your mind wandering to what Gianna or god forbid Harrison found out. And then you were distracted, working to bring your mind back to the activity at place. Tom’s thumb is rubbing your clit and his other hand is next to your head, leaning into your pillow as he fucks into you, the sound of skin against skin and his mumbles against your skin slowly forcing you to pay attention. 

“Tom,” you sigh and his cock twitches inside of you.

Fuck. He’s close. 

And you were enjoying yourself, you really were, but you just weren’t there. But just like the boys before him you knew he wasn’t going to wait around for you to get there, wasn’t going to wait and take the time to find out what really makes you scream. And maybe that’s presumptuous of you but Tom’s the type of guy who thinks that every girl works the same, a finger on your clit and a hot mouth on your neck and you’re clenching around him, coming with a cry of his name. 

That wouldn’t be the case for you, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t pretend. Something Tom and you had gotten very good at recently. So you put on a show, squeezing your eyes shut, clenching around him, moaning his name as he comes, pretending to come with him before his hips still, panting against your neck, sweaty curls tickling your jaw as your legs drop from around his waist. 

Tom slips out of you, eyebrows furrowing as he takes in your calming state, lips pouting slightly as he sits up.

“Did you just fake that?”

“What? No,” you sit up with him, resting a hand on his shoulder. Nobody’s ever caught you faking it before. Time to put on your best smile and act like you came. 

“No, no,” Tom shrugs your arm off him, “you definitely did.”

“No I didn’t,” because you’re stubborn and you knew his ego would be crushed. It wasn’t necessarily his fault, you enjoyed yourself, it just took you longer than normal to come, and you didn’t want to hold up the fun for your partner. Tom wasn’t going to last as long as it took you to bring yourself to orgasm. The pleasure you felt was fine, even if you didn’t get to that special place. But the look of pure bliss on his face as he came was now replaced by furrowed brows and a frown. 

“What did I do?” Tom starts and you crawl towards him, reaching out, attempting to explain why you faked it since he saw right through your lie. 

He glances away as you rest your hand on his chest, crawling into the space between his legs. His arms are limp at his sides and he doesn’t attempt to give you the same type of physical attention you’re giving him, and that hurts, even just a little. 

“I-,”

“Were you thinking you could just fake it and pretend like you had a good time? Leave me thinking I made you feel good, made you come like a fucking fool?” He swats your hand off his chest and you attempt to control the wave of anxiety starting to pull you under. 

“I’m sorry, I just, I wasn’t there and you were and I didn’t want you to feel bad so-,”

“And knowing that you faked it, was that supposed to make me feel what? Indifferent?”

“No, I didn’t think you-,”

“Holy fuck you always talk about using your words but then when it comes time to using them, you fucking don’t. You could’ve said hey Tom this is what I like, this is how I can come. Instead you what? Moan my name and squeeze my shoulders and act like you got there?”

You know what he’s saying wasn’t meant to hurt you. He’s frustrated, he wants to know what he did wrong and why you did what you did. You knew the insecurities inside him were surfacing with each word. 

And honestly? Faking it was easier than having to explain how you could come, the little intricate details that made everything just right, made the moment possible. 

“Oh? Nothing to say? Of course, because you can’t act like this is just pretend,” Tom’s voice is bitter and he gets off your bed, your head hangs low as you hear him shuffle around the room, presumably grabbing his thousands of layers. 

You think he’s going to stop talking, to let the silence fill the room as the music cuts off. But he doesn’t. You feel tears well in your eyes as you fight to keep them back, hands shaking as you pull your blanket over your naked body. 

“This isn’t just you, helping me for the show, Dave and Rhonda don’t fuck on stage. This was all you darling,” the word just a few minutes ago spoken so softly bit back at you, “you had sex with me because you wanted to. You don’t get to pretend. and that's killing you isn't it?” He asks and you turn your head to him as you pray for the bed to swallow you whole as your ears start ringing and you clasp your hands over them, attempting to shut out the world. 

“Fuck, I’m- y/n, I just, I don’t want to pretend either, I want-,”

“Go, please,” you manage to get out as you gasp for breath to no avail. 

“I’m so-,”

“Go, go, go,” you cry, squeezing your eyes shut at the pained expression on his face. The hot tears roll down your cheeks as you don’t even bother searching for air or comfort in another person. You wouldn’t find that in Tom. Not now. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers and it’s barely there as static fills your brain, blocking out the rest of the world. 

You hear the door shut and you want to collapse in on yourself as you gasp for air. 

You find comfort in nothing, not in your bed where you could normally escape after a long day, not in the warmth of your blanket against your skin. You trip over your blanket you kick to the side as you stumble out of bed. Quickly grabbing a robe you slipped it on and rushed to the showers, grateful nobody was there to see you. A blossoming hickey on your neck, legs sore, lungs collapsing on themselves as you let the hot water rush over your body. You choked out a sob as you felt air fill your lungs, salty tears mixing with the water that ran over your skin, fragile and freezing no matter how far you pushed the lever, wishing the water would melt your skin. This was a fucking disaster. You let the water drown out the sound of your tears.

***

Tom realized he fucked up, the second he heard your cries and saw your hands clasped over your ears. What he said was fucking horrible and it wasn’t your fault you didn’t come. But god damn it he wishes you said something or that you let him know how he could make you feel as good as he did before it all came crashing down around you. So after he tosses all of his clothes back in his room he rushes back to yours, he knows you said to go but his mind couldn’t tear away the tears in your eyes and the shaking of your body as he left. 

He knocks twice, “y/n, god, I’m sorry, please, just, you don’t even have to open the door or anything, just let me know you’re okay. I know you told me to leave but I just need to make sure you’re okay.”

Silence. He figured you would still be upset, crying even, but there’s not even the whisper of a movement on the other side of your door. His head whips around as he hears a sob from the bathroom. 

Shit.

He checks to see if anyone else is roaming the halls before slipping into the women’s bathroom, eyeing the gray bathrobe on the ground in front of one of the showers, the same one he’s seen time and time again in your room now soaking wet from the water dripping from the shower curtain. 

He slips back out and races back to his room and then back to your bathroom, slightly out of breath, but he knew it was nothing compared to how you must have felt. He remembers Harrison told him that you felt like you were drowning when you were having a panic attack, like the air in your lungs was replaced with water and you were treading water but failing miserably. 

So he slipped back into the bathroom and sat on the counter, a towel and clothes in his hand, waiting for the right time to speak up.

*** As your nails dug into your arms you felt your body slowly start to heat up and your lungs fill with air. 

“Just fucking breathe,” your voice trembles as you turn the shower off. Your eyes slowly blink open and you look down at your body, bright red from the heat of the water. And you knew, logically that the only reason you felt like this was because you felt something for Tom. If it was anyone else you would’ve told them to fuck off and get over themselves. But Tom, you just couldn’t let go of the sting of his words ingrained in the back of your mind as you reached from behind the curtain to grab your robe from the hook. 

“Shit,” you curse when you don’t feel the soft material under your fingertips. You bend down and blindly grasp around the floor groaning when you feel the damp robe. 

“y/n?” Tom’s voice is soft and unsure and you’re positive he’s right outside your shower.

You stand back up, robe abandoned on the floor as you peer out from behind the curtain.

You push your wet hair from your eyes as you see Tom swinging his legs, sitting on the counter. Your eyes widen with disbelief. 

“I’m sorry-,”

“Tom,” and the weight of your word, exhausted, upper lip trembling as you stare at the boy you just had sex with, the boy whose ego you just crushed hit Tom. 

“I’m sorry I was such an asshole, I’m sorry I couldn’t make you, you know, and I’m sorry I suck with words. I’m sure there’s more for me to be sorry for but you must be freezing so I got you a towel,” Tom holds the towel out for you, a deep blue, like he told you his favorite color was. 

You reach out for it and Tom nods, jumping off the counter and handing it to you. 

“Thank you,” you manage to get out and you shiver as your fingers brush against his. 

As you wrap the towel around your body, too tired to dry your hair you feel tears well in your eyes again, this time from Tom’s gesture, an olive branch of sorts.

You step out of the shower, red-rimmed eyes meeting Tom’s as you shuffle forward, grabbing your robe with one hand, upset you got it wet, which only makes you cry a little more. 

“It’s okay,” Tom’s voice attempts to sooth you and it takes you a moment to realize that he’s pulling you close and hugging you as your body shakes like leaf, maybe from crying, maybe from your body being exposed to the cold air of the bathroom, probably both.

“I’m sorry,” you cry against his shoulder.

You’re sorry for faking it. You’re sorry for not using your words. You’re sorry for crying and getting his clothes wet from the shower and your tears. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers, his hand spreading across your back, a comforting weight keeping you pressed against him. 

“I’m sorry,” you say again, and that’s as much as you can get out for now.

“Shhh, let’s get you to bed okay?”

“I just, and I don’t even and I wanted to-,”

“It’s okay, you’re freezing, come on, let’s get you dressed,” he motions to the clothes on the counter as he pulls away slightly, you let out a sad whimper as he moves, afraid that he’s going to let go of you. And he senses this, he senses that you want human contact right now, that you need it, so he does an awkward shuffle sideways to the clothes, tucking them under his arm before gripping your thighs and making sure the towel keeps you decent, picking you up with ease as you wrap your arms around his neck, his other arm tight against the side of your chest, holding you against him. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, blushing as your lips get stuck on those two words again.

“It’s okay,” he nods, his chin resting on the top of your head as he walks to your room, arms never wavering in his hold on you as he uses his elbow to push your door open. 

He sets you down on your bed, kneeling in front of it, your hand shoots out to hold his, and he let’s you grip his wrist as he raises both your hands to his face, kissing each of your fingers gently. 

“I brought you some clothes, I dunno why since you’ve got clothes but I just-,” Tom nods, frowning slightly when he sees more tears start to fall from your eyes, “what’s wrong?”

“You didn’t haveta do this,” you sigh as your grip softens.

“But I wanted to,” his voice is quieter as you let go of his wrist and he stands up, “c’mere, you needa get dried off.”

So you follow him, one hand holding the towel tight around you. Normally you’d feel shy as his hand covered yours, turning you around before pulling the towel off of you. Or a little ridiculous as he helped dry you off, but he made you feel like this was completely normal. He hums gently, eyes staring at the hickey he left on the side of your neck as his hands gently make sure you’re completely dry before resting the towel on your shoulders as he grabs the black sweatpants.

“Hope these are comfy,” he muses as you step into them and his fingers rest against your bare waist when he’s finished pulling them up.

You nod, fingers trembling as you wipe away the tears on your face, too scared to turn around and look at Tom. You feel him take the towel from your shoulders and gently dry your hair, fingers brushing through tangles after he drops the towel.

“Here, just lift your arms up for me okay?” He asks and you do just that before you feel the warmth of a blue sweatshirt pulled over your head. 

“Tom,” you feel his hands resting over the sweatshirt and your body is hesitant as you think about laying down his him, falling asleep in his arms like you did earlier while watching the movie, something that seemed like a million years ago now. 

“I can stay, if you want,” Tom suggests and you’re grateful he’s able to pick up on every word unspoken from your lips between the call of his name and I’m sorry. 

You nod and he follows you as crawl into your bed, hair still slightly damp.

“Can you-,” you start and you hear him hum before grabbing your towel and positioning it on your pillow. 

“I’m sorry,” you sigh against his chest as his hand rests on your hip, yours holding onto his t-shirt, afraid if you let go that he would slip between your fingertips. And the words are right there on the tip of your tongue, all you needed to do was will them into existence, push your vocal cords to produce the sound, push your lips to form them. But the sheer exhaustion from today kept you silent. 

You feel your eyelids start to droop as he responds.

“I’m sorry as well.”

“What else could you be sorry for?”

And as you drift off to sleep, so tired you think you’re making it up you swear you hear him answer you, breathless as his fingers stroke your side, “because I like you.”

***

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[the-blind-assassin-12]

Made Man

Part Two: Makin’ Bones 

A/N: Time for Nick to meet Steve and see if an arrangement can’t be made. The titles for the chapters in this series will all be mafia terms and phrases. “Makin’ Bones” is another term for “becoming made”- means you have to kill someone to earn your place. The drabble “Fratelli per Sempre” (found on my masterlist under drabbles) can be read immediately following this chapter, if you haven’t read it yet ;) 

Warning: language, discussion of murder, violence 

Word Count: 3,052

  “Hey, Steve,” you knocked on the door as you opened it, the handle banging into the aluminum chair he kept in his office for his distinguished guests. 

 He looked up from his pile of papers and gave you a smile that looked too soft for a man his size. Steve was a hard ass, a real bonafide mafioso, and you had it on good authority that he was being looked at by the powers that be to move up on the ladder. But he had a soft spot for you, treating you like a favorite niece. “Hey doll, whatcha got?” 

 You tilted your head towards the bar where Nick sat draining the contents of the drink you’d served him. “Got a guy wants to see you. Says his name is Nick. Says he’s from up North...one’a Sal’s guys.” You chewed your bottom lip and raised your brows at him. 

 Steve set down the paper he’d been perusing and cleared his throat. “Yeah?” 

 “Yeah. You wanna see him, or…” or should I call Ralph and have him take out the trash? You didn’t want that to be the case; Sal’s guy Nick was friendly, young and attractive, but you knew the way of it and you knew he wouldn’t be the first or last guy whose fate was sealed in an industrial strength garbage bag. 

 Steve cracked his knuckles. “Nah, doll, send him in. I’ll handle it.” He smiled at you again and you nodded, closing the door and returning to the bar. 

 “Hey,” you called, snapping him out of the deep contemplation of the bottom of his glass. He looked up and you were again struck by the endless night swirling in his eyes. He set the glass down and took the red plastic stirring straw out of his mouth. It was all chewed up and twisted and you guessed that he was dying for a cigarette. You used to do the same thing when you were a smoker and you couldn’t get your fix. Your eyes fell to his front pocket and you saw the crumpled top of a pack of smokes sticking out from the denim to confirm your suspicion. “Steve said he’ll see you now.” He stood from his stool and bent to pick up his bag. “But you gotta leave that outside his office.” You pointed to the bag and he froze. “Gun, too.” 

 “Gun? What gun? I don’t have a-” 

 “On your waistband, Nick, I ain’t stupid. Come on now, let’s not start things off with a lie.” You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him you best I don’t play around look. 

 He sniffed and nodded, reaching behind him to pull the gun out of his pants. He unzipped the bag and you caught a glimpse of the cash you’d guessed was inside. “Alright,” he said, stuffing it in and zipping it back up. “Alright, you win.” 

 “I sure do.” He let out a nervous chuckle and you could understand why- you didn’t know exactly what his story was, but you knew it could only go one of two ways after he entered Steve’s office: he’d walk out, or he wouldn’t. “You can leave the bag right here by the office. No one’s gonna touch it, I promise you.” You motioned to the empty restaurant. “Hey,” you said as he kicked the bag against the wall. “Good luck in there.” 

 “Thanks,” he nodded, looking at his feet before taking a deep breath and knocking on the door. He vanished into Steve’s office, and you tried not to stay too close by, but close enough to hear what was going on. Steve knew you liked to listen to things, but he trusted you enough at this point where it didn’t matter much to him. You could do no wrong in “Uncle” Steve’s eyes. 

 Good Luck, Nick. Hope that gorgeous face of yours doesn’t have to get mopped up off the floor. 

 You huffed as the door closed, turning back to the empty bar. “Guess I’ll stir the soup. Again.” 

 ..  ..  ..  ..  .. ..  ..  ..  ..  

 The office was slightly larger than a broom closet, half of it taken up by the security monitors. The other half was taken up by Steve himself. His wide shoulders supported a thick neck, and his bulky arms strained at the sleeves of his dress shirt. They rested on top of the smallest desk Nick had ever seen, which somehow managed to eclipse Steve’s lower half. The man appraised him without standing, his dark green eyes washing over Nick without giving away his initial thoughts. He was younger than Nick thought he’d be, maybe mid 40’s, clean shaven, his tanned complexion making his eyes appear even sharper. He pulled his shoulders back and Nick heard a small pop at the adjustment as he stepped fully into the tiny space. You closed the door behind him, your footsteps receding, and Nick stood with his arms down, hands clasped in front of him, waiting for Steve to speak.

 Steve tilted his head to one side, eyes narrowed. “Sit, kid.” He raised one hand from the paper-littered desk to indicate the metal folding chair that was closed and leaning against the wall. He shifted his shoulders again with another crackling pop and Nick supposed that the tension was due to a combination of stress and his cramped quarters.  

 Grabbing the chair, Nick swung it open and plopped it down opposite Steve. The hum from the monitors filled his ears as he raised his chin to hold his head high as his former boss’ former foe finished taking stock of him. Well he didn’t shoot me yet so that’s a good start. 

 “So. Nick.” He hit the K sound hard, pausing before continuing. “I hear you’re one’a Sal’s guys.” He kept his eyes neutral, but his lips twitched on Sal’s name. 

 Nick nodded. “That’s right, I was.” 

 Steve let the twitch grow into a smirk. “And, tell me, how is old Sally these days?” 

 “Not too good, Mr. Bonafiglio.” Nick deadpanned, moving to sit more comfortably in his chair. 

 “Oh? And why’s that? He send you down here to straighten out the rowdy Jersey boys?” He leaned over the desk, over his arms. “You know what happened to the last errand boys he sent down here, don’t ya, Nick?” Yeah, one didn’t come back and the other one came back wearing a couple bullets. 

 “Sal didn’t send me, Mr. Bonafiglio. I sent myself. Sal ain’t sending nobody anywhere anymore.” 

 Intrigued, Steve’s left brow raised and the hint of a curious spark flashed in his eyes. “And why is that?” He folded his hands, fingers laced and steepled together. 

 Nick cocked his head to the side, moving slightly closer. “‘Cause he’s dead, Mr. Bonafiglio. I killed him.” Cards on the table. Your move, Steve. 

 Steve bounced his clasped hands three times, staring silently at and into and through Nick before he spoke again. “Killed ‘em, huh? Killed ‘em, dead? Killed your boss?” 

 “That’s right,” Nick answered. “Shot him dead ‘fore he could do the same ta me.” He sat forward, elbows on his denim clad knees. “And, all due respect, Mr. Bonafiglio, I ain’t no errand boy.” Still hasn’t wasted me. Guess I’m doin’ okay. 

 Steve laughed then, face screwed up in unadulterated entertainment. Nick swallowed, keeping his own face still. “No, you do not strike me as an errand boy, Nick.” Again, the K clicked in the back of his throat. He unclasped his hands and shook a pointed finger. “You’re a real ballsy muthafucka, you know that, kid?” 

 Nick knew that that could be good or bad, so he didn’t react either way. “Yeah, Mr. Bona-” 

 Steve waved the hand he’d used to point with. “Ah, call me Steve, okay? Enougha’ the ass kissin’.” Nick nodded. “Alright, so. So you were one’a Sal’s guys. One’a his made guys?” Nick nodded again and Steve pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. “So Sally brings you inta his family. Takes you under his wing. And you,” he bent his pinky, ring and middle finger, keeping his pointer and thumb out of his fist in the shape of a gun. “You pop him, right?” Another nod. “And then you come here to my place,” he turned his finger gun on himself, poking it into his chest. “Why?” 

 Here it is. Time to pay the piper. “Mutual interests.” Nick’s eyes flashed and his lip curled as his hatred for Sal and the whole Boston operation bubbled up inside him, not at all quelled by the man’s death. “He took my family. My father. My best friend. My…” What was he supposed to call Ali? They’d only been seeing one another for a few weeks. 

 “Your girl?” Steve supplied questioningly, a knowing look etched into his olive skin. 

 Nick sniffed and nodded. “Yeah,” he said quietly. He cleared his throat. “I got a brother, he’s outta town for now, but I’m not lettin’ them get him, too.” Nick had gone back and forth about whether or not he should share Vito’s existence with Steve. The whole point of separating from him, making him go into hiding, was to keep him safe from the mob. So he wasn’t sure that making a second outfit aware that he had a brother and therefore a way to hurt him was smart. But he also knew that coming in hot like he was, telling one Capo that he’d capped another, wasn’t the best way to earn trust in a business where trust was worth more than gold. He knew he had to roll over and show his weakness, show Steve that he trusted him, and that Nick was worth trusting. 

 “You’re tryin’ to get out, ain’t ya, kid? Mob not what you thought it was? Family disappointed ya? Ya made your bones and they turned into a pile of ashes?” 

 Something like that. Nick shifted in his chair wordlessly. That was exactly what he was after. He wanted to take out anyone that stood between him and his brother, wanted to make sure no one would come looking for them, that they wouldn’t have to look over their shoulders for the rest of their young lives. He thought once that becoming a made man would make him some kind of powerful hot shot, that he’d be rolling in cash, able to provide for his family in ways he’d never be able to without the mob, without crime. What was I gonna be? A mechanic? Work construction? Goddamn burger flipper? None of his prospects were good enough for his goals, so he turned to what he thought was his only option and got burned. 

 “Yeah,” he answered. “I want out. I want out for me and my brother. I don’t want anyone lookin’ for me, so I figured that means I gotta look for them. And I figured you’d want them gone just as much as me. Mutual interests, like I said.” 

 Steve nodded. “Yeah well you’re a smart kid ‘cause you’re right. I do want those fuckers gone.” He let his hands fall heavily to the desk making some papers jump as a result. “They been a thorn in my fuckin’ side for years, Sal especially.” His eyebrows came together as a thought popped into his head. “How ‘bout that fucker Vinny D’Alessandro or Tony Matazano? I know they weren’t on the greatest terms with Sal, but they were equals. They still kickin’?” 

 Nick swallowed. “Tony’s dead... “ He unwillingly flashed back to the night he held Ali as she cried over her estranged father’s death, after he confessed his involvement with the whole fiasco. He closed his eyes for half a second to clear those images- the sounds of her tears, the weak punches she threw at his chest as he folded her up in his arms- and when he opened them, she was gone again, as quickly as she’s come into and out of his life. He didn’t love Ali, but he was on the way to loving her, and thinking about her even for half a second, stung. “Vinny’s still alive, far as I know. But I know where his spot is. I got names and I got addresses for the rest of Sal and Tony’s guys, and I know where Vinny hides, too.”  

 Steve sat back in his chair and Nick heard it creak beneath the hulking man’s weight. In the corner of his eye he caught you moving on the security monitors, pushing stools in and wiping down the bar and trying to look busy and like you weren’t trying to hear what was being said behind the closed closet-office door. He snapped his attention back to Steve when his voice filled the small room. “Alright kid. Here’s the deal. You made your bones with Sal, yeah? You paid whatever dues he asked of ya and he made you a button man.” Nick sat up straight, arms hanging between his knees. “That’s all well and good. And its all well and good that you’re comin’ here with your names and your addresses and your mission. But I gotta know, gotta be sure I can trust you. Gotta be sure I’m not letting a viper into the hen house so to speak. You catch my drift, Nick?” 

 He knew this was coming. Being a made man in Boston didn’t mean shit here in Jersey and he’d have to prove himself all over again- not that he ever actually did the proving in Boston until he emptied his rounds into Sal’s chest. Killing Sal was good and all, but it wasn’t an order from Steve, just a circumstantial benefit. He’d have to give Steve a few months of service to prove himself. “Yeah, Steve, I catch your drift. Think we can have this mess cleaned up in six months?” 

 Steve extended a hand across the desk. “Six months. This gets cleaned up in three, you still owe me six. Then you’re out and you’re under my protection...and my boss’ protection.” He leaned closer. “And that means a fuck of a lot more than bein’ one of Sal’s guys up North, you got it?” 

 Nick felt the weight he’d been carrying since he stepped off the ferry fall from his shoulders as he grasped Steve’s hand, a satisfied grin pulling at his lips and wrinkling the corners of his eyes. “Got it.” They shook just once to solidify the deal. 

 Steve stood then, knocking into the desk as he rose from the chair causing one of the monitors to shake. “Alright kid. Come back on Thursday morning. Don’t be late.” He purposefully left out a time and Nick knew better than to ask. That was the first part of his test- you don’t ask questions, and depending on who’s asking, you certainly don’t answer them. It was clear that the meeting was over and that nothing else would be discussed. Nick got his chance and he got to leave with his head and that was that. 

 “I’ll be here.” He nodded once and left the office, closing the door behind him as Steve sunk back down to his chair. He felt lightheaded as he picked up the bag that you’d made him leave right outside the office. Hang in there Vito, I’m workin’ on it. It’s gonna be beautiful, I promise. His mind was racing from one thing to the next- from Ali to Sal to Steve to his brother- but he couldn’t help the smirk from crawling up his lips just knowing that he was on the right track; from knowing that he just took the most important test of his life and passed. I need a fuckin’ cigarette. He slung the bag over his shoulder, pulling the gun back out to tuck it back in his waistband where he felt more comfortable keeping it, and made to head out the front door. 

 “Guess I’ll be seeing’ ya, then,” said the pretty face that had served him a terribly overpriced and underwhelming whiskey sour. 

 He turned in your direction, bemused quirk to his lip, cigarette halfway to his mouth. You were standing with one hip stuck so far out it couldn’t have been an accident, a bar towel thrown over your shoulder with charming nonchalance. Nick couldn’t help but smile as his eyes flicked from you to the minuscule room he’d just vacated that Steve called an office. “You eavesdropping’?” 

 “Me?” You held your hands up, a look of practiced, wide eyed, open mouthed innocence on your face. Oh, she’s good. “I’d never do anything like that. I don’t know anything, I’m just a bartender.” You blinked your long lashes twice before you threw him a wink. You watched him watch you as you used your hip to push a barstool back in place. 

 “Yeah. I’m sure you don’t know nothin’,” Nick found himself on the verge of a laugh and he knew it had more to do with the adrenaline rush of the last 48 hours than anything else. Or does it? He mentally shook that idea from his mind. Come off it, Nick, you ain’t here for tail. “Alright then, I’ll see ya around.”

“See ya, Nick. Don’t be late.” You cocked your head and gave him a serious look. This time he did let the laugh come out in the form of a nasal exhale. He held up one hand in a wave as he disappeared through the door. Oh she’s gonna be trouble. 

 Knowing that he’d be here in Atlantic Highlands for at least six months, he needed a place to stay. He needed to familiarize himself with his surroundings, get the lay of the land, figure out what his life was going to be like while he held up his half of the bargain he’d just made. But he had two days to figure that out. There was a storefront directly across from The Dockside that caught his attention, seeming to glow brighter than the cold, grey world around him. It read Atlantic Harbor Ink, the reflections of sailboat masts and dock pylons filling the windows, and he was drawn there. The handshake with Steve had sealed that deal. He crossed the street to the tattoo shop, ready to seal the silent promise he’d made to his brother. Fratelli per Sempre, Vito. Brothers Forever. 

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @agent-bossypants @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @songtoyou @poindexted @thesumofmychoices @gollyderek

#made man #made man part 2: makin' bones #nick tortano #by the gun #nick tortano x reader #nick tortano x you #nick tortano fanfiction

[golbrocklovely]

only the lonely survive // colby brock - chapter two: ain’t it fun

A/N: let me know what you think of the story so far :)

description of the story here

trigger warning: swearing, drinking, douchey guy, graphic language, light physical fighting (no blood or anything)

word count: 2589

During the car ride, I stayed silent. Corey and Casey are two of the most outgoing people I had ever met, and my introverted ass couldn't really jump in and say anything. Not that I minded, to be honest. I was kind of pissed at Casey.

How could she not tell that Corey Scherer was her best friend?

She knew that I watched him and all of the Trap House guys, and yet never mentioned he was her friend. I was conflicted... I thought we were close but maybe we weren't.

"So, Skye, what do you do for a living?" Corey asked, looking at me through his review mirror.

"Oh... I work in retail at the moment. I also do youtube on the side." I shrugged.

"Same here." He laughed.

"Yeah, me and Skye watch you all the time. Along with all your room mates." Casey replied, giggling.

"Are you a fan?" Corey questioned, smiling.

I cleared my throat, feeling uncomfortable. "I guess you could say that. I do love your content."

He nodded. "Aw thanks. What type of stuff do you make?"

"She does amazing covers. She is seriously one of the best singers I know." Casey said, jumping in.

"You can sing? That's cool." Corey beamed.

Casey chuckled, "No seriously, she is really good. I mean, she did study musical theater in college so she better be at least somewhat good."

"Oh that's sick." Corey cheered.

While Corey and Casey went back to catching up, I looked out the window, watching the houses we passed. Everything was white and pristine. The lawns were mowed to perfection. Every so often there would be a person walking a dog.

The car came to a stop as Corey pulled into the driveway of the house we were staying at. He turned the car off and popped the trunk. All three of us slowly got out of the car. Corey helped us bring our luggage inside the house.

The house was simple but beautiful. Everything looked new: the furniture, carpets, curtains, every little detail.

Man her uncle must be really rich.

"It was good seeing you again, Casey. I gotta go pick up Devyn from the gym and then we're gonna go get something to eat. I'll see you tomorrow. It was nice meeting you, Skye!" Corey said, giving Casey a quick hug and leaving.

Casey and I waved bye, watching Corey pull out of the driveway. Then she shut the door.

"Okay... what the fuck Casey?" I demanded.

"Alright, I know I have to explain myself. I'm sorry I never told you about Corey." She apologized, grabbing her luggage and starting to bring it to her room.

"I think you need to explain a little bit further." I crossed my arms, annoyed.

She sighed, putting her bag on her bed. "Look, back before Corey blew up on Vine, we were friends. I was even in one or two of his Vines. Because of this, when he got a following, immediately people pretended to be my friend just to get to him. Then he moved, and we remained friends, but I never told anyone I was friends with him. Then I went college and I met you. One day you brought up the Trap House and I thought 'shit she knows' but you never asked about him. Then you told me how you never followed Vine back when it was alive and that you only knew of them because of youtube. So I was in the clear..."

"I thought you trusted me a little more than that..." I muttered, looking down at the floor.

"I do trust you. I wouldn't have traveled across the country with someone I didn't trust. I just wasn't sure how to bring up the fact that I'm friends with people you stan. It would be like me telling you I'm related to the Jonas Brothers." She joked.

I looked up abruptly, "You aren't, are you? Because you know I love them."

"No I'm not." She laughed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I just wasn't sure how I could tell you. Besides, seeing the look on your face when you saw Corey was kinda hilarious."

"You know what's more hilarious? Me punching you directly in the throat." I hissed jokingly.

"You're all talk." She retorted, throwing a shirt at me.

I threw the shirt back. "I wouldn't be so sure about it."

"Well, let me make it up to you. Tonight, let's go out clubbing and I'll buy you alcohol." She smiled.

"You're only suggesting that because I don't drink that much, you fucking cheapskate." I laughed.

She nodded her head, "Yes. However, I do have another gift for you."

"Oh goodie." I clapped my hands mockingly.

"How do you feel about meeting the Trap House tomorrow?" She asked, smirking.

I gulped, "What?"

"Corey and I were talking about hanging out tomorrow. He told me all the guys are gonna be home and I figured I could catch up with him and all of them. They haven't seen me in like a year or so." She said.

"I-I don't know." I stuttered, looking around her room.

"They all know about you." She replied.

I turned to her, wide eye, "I'm sorry, what?!"

"You know how during the summer I go home to Florida? Well sometimes I come out here instead and hang out with Corey and everyone in the Trap House. The last time I was out here I told them all about you. How you're my best friend and how amazing of a singer you are and also how you're a fan of them." She smiled brightly.

"Did you... go into detail of how much of a fan I am?" I questioned.

She turned her head to the side, "Like?"

"Like how I have a fan account? Like how I have all of their post notifications on and I follow them on literally every social media platform?" I stated.

She shook her head, "No. I just said you were a fan. That's it."

I sighed in relief, "Thank God."

"So... does that mean you're gonna hang out with me and the boys tomorrow?" She asked beaming.

Take chances, right?

"Sure. I guess so." I rolled my eyes.

"Yay! Honestly, you're gonna love them. Well, you're gonna love them more than you already do. They are seriously some of the nicest dudes you'll ever meet." She stopped in her tracks, gasping, "Oh my God, maybe you can get with one of them!"

"Everyone in the house has a girlfriend besides Colby." I said, confused.

"You're right. But... weirder things have happened." She replied, putting her clothes in the closet.

/  /  /  /

"Casey! Come on! Our uber's gonna be here in like two minutes." I yelled, filling up a cup with soda and vodka.

"I'm coming ya loud hoe!" Casey screamed, running into the kitchen. She grabbed the cup from my hands and took a swig of my cocktail.

I grumbled, "It's a little hard to be a hoe when no guy wants to fuck you." I snatched the cup from her hands, "Also make your own."

"There are plenty of guys that want to fuck you, Skye. It's just most of them are gross and don't deserve a text back, let alone seeing you naked." She replied.

"I think you're thinking of yourself. If you find a guy that wants me, feel free to send him my way." I rolled my eyes. I placed my cup down on the counter, grabbed my purse and headed towards the front door.

"Well if you want to attract a guy, maybe don't wear jeans to the club." She smirked, downing the rest of my drink.

I looked down at my outfit: a low-cut top, jeans, and platform boots. This was an average outfit for me.

I sighed, "Look my dude, I didn't feel like getting dressed up. Besides I haven't unpacked yet and this outfit was on top."

"We've been here for seven hours, why haven't you unpacked?" She asked, shutting and locking the front door behind her.

"I'll do it when we get home, mom." I mocked, turning to look at her. She raised her middle finger towards me. I blew her a kiss.

/  /  /  /

"It surprisingly busy for a Sunday night!" I yelled, getting close to Casey's ear.

The club 'Roses' was packed tonight. I asked Casey how she even knew of this place, telling me it's where her and Corey go every time she's in LA. Apparently this is also the go-to spot if you want to see D-Listers and influencers all in the same tiny place.

The whole place smelled like shitty cologne, tequila, sweat, and poor life choices.

I was home.

"Let's just try to get a drink! I need one!" She yelled back, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the bar.

When we got there, we ordered our drinks. First, shots. Two each. Then a cocktail.

"I'm surprised you're letting me drink more than one tonight, you know, since you're paying." I stated, elbowing her lightly.

"We're only in California once, why not live it up a bit? Besides you won't have more than three drinks, four tops." She shrugged.

I raised my eyebrow, "How do you know that? Maybe I'll surprise you and have FIVE tonight."

She rolled her eyes. The bartender came up to us.

"That guy over there ordered you these." He said, pointing at the other end of the bar.

We both looked over to see a tall blonde hair guy. He was buff, wearing only a muscle shirt and tight black jeans. He had one sleeve of tattoos. He smiled, nodding over at us. He disappeared into the crowd, coming over.

One guess as to who he was going to talk to first.

"Sup ladies, my name's Mark. It's nice to meet ya!" Mark said, eyeing Casey.

"Hey. Thanks for the drink by the way." Casey replied, smiling.

"No problem. What's your name, beautiful?" He asked, smirking.

I rolled my eyes but jumped in before Casey could speak. "I'm Christina, and she's Emily."

We both made a pack many years ago that if we weren't comfortable around a guy, the easiest way to let each other know was to change our names. It was subtle, but efficient; especially when you're drunk.

Why was I uncomfortable with this guy? Who knows.

"Nice. Why don't you come dance with me?" He requested, grabbing Casey's hand.

Casey turned to me, "Are you good, Christina?"

I nodded my head. She winked at me, slowly being pulled onto the dance floor. I looked back at the two shots Mark ordered for us. I downed both.

Haha, jokes on you Casey. I have gone over my limit.

Bitch...

/  /  /  /

After scrolling through my phone for the nth time, I looked at the dance floor, trying to find Casey. I spotted her; she had her phone in one hand and her drink in the other. She was also grinding lazily against Mark.

Ew.

I looked back at my phone, checking the time. Suddenly, a text popped up.

 Casey: plz come ovr nd get ths douche away frm me

 I looked up at her, seeing her stare at me. I nodded my head, finishing my sixth drink tonight, and started walking over to her.

Time to use my theater degree for something.

"Oh my God Christinaaa let's goooo home I'm tired." I whined, bumping into Casey 'drunkenly'.

Casey turned towards Mark. "Hey I'm really sorry but I gotta get my friend home now."

"What why? Can't she call an uber herself? I thought we were having fun." Mark groaned.

She sighed. "I'm sorry, but I want to make sure she's okay getting home. Don't need her to fall into the wrong hands."

"Okay I guess. Wait... isn't your name Emily?" He questioned.

I looked at Casey, she looked at me. I grabbed her hand and we ran outside.

"Shit, how did you forget my fake name?" She hissed, throwing my hand off hers.

"I'm sorry I forgot your fake name, I'll make sure to remember it next time." I grunted, rolling my eyes. I grabbed my phone, clicked the uber app, and called one. "What was the problem with Marky-Mark back there anyway?"

"Well for one thing, he smelled like Axe body spray and I immediately felt like I was back in high school grinding on a dude during prom. Also, I really can't understand how he was out of rhythm when I was the one doing all the work." She explained.

"I had a feeling he was gonna be douchey. However, being a bad dancer and smelling weird doesn't make him a shitty person." I quipped.

Casey's eyes widen. I scrunched my face, confused. Turning around, I saw the reason for her shocked expression: Mark. Standing right behind me, with a beer bottle in hand.

"So... you're not that drunk anymore. Maybe now Emily, or Christina, or whatever the fuck your name is can come back inside and dance with me some more." Mark sneered, reaching for Casey.

I jumped in front of his hand, "Look dude, I understand you want to keep hanging out with my friend, but she doesn't want to hang with you anymore. The both of us... don't want her hanging with you anymore. So, we're just gonna go home and you can go find some other girl to party with."

"You know bitch, you keep cock-blocking me and I'm getting real tired of it." He shouted, getting in my face.

"Fucker it ain't cock-blocking if you were never gonna get fucked to begin with. Also, calling me a bitch really isn't helping your case." I replied, stepping up to him.

He rolled his eyes, "Whatever, slut." He started to walk away.

I grabbed my chest, mockingly, "Ow, you hurt me."

He stopped, turn back towards me, reached out, and poured his beer down the center of my shirt.

"Look: two wet bitches for me!" He bellowed, smiling.

All I saw was red. This motherfucker is about to lose his balls. But as I was rearing up to go Tonya Harding on him, the bouncer grabbed him and slammed him against the wall, smashing the beer bottle on Mark's hand in the process.

"What the fuck?!" Marked yelled, trying to get out of the bouncer's grip.

Casey started pulling my arm. I looked to see our uber pull up. I looked at Mark, flipped him off, and jumped into the car.

After a silent, uncomfortably wet, 20-minute drive, we finally got home.

I sighed, stepping into the house. I immediately took my shirt off, walking into the kitchen.

"Woah, I didn't know coming home with you would get me a free show." Casey joked, dropping her body onto the couch.

I grabbed two water bottles from the fridge. I placed one down on the coffee table in front of Casey.

"I feel like buying you two drinks isn't sufficient enough for the bs that we went through tonight so... how about tomorrow I buy you dinner?" She said, smiling sweetly.

I took a long swig of my water. "Yeah that sounds fine. I would also appreciate it if you could steer clear of douche bags for the rest of the trip, for the sake of my sanity and wardrobe."

"I can't make any promises, but I will do my best." She replied, scrunching her nose. 

 << CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 3 >>

#colby brock #corey scherer #colby brock x oc #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock fluff #colby brock story #colby brock fic #only the lonely survive

[strayycarrot]

Dancing in the Rain - Chapter 3 (Seventeen Dino X reader)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Words: 2323

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none

Notes:The end of this is so cute, I was barely able to write it. I hope the sweetness doesn’t give y’all a toothache.

“See? I told you I could make it to your dorm and back without dying”.

You have no idea why you’re texting him again. But you just can’t stop thinking about him. At least before you met him you didn’t have memories of him talking to you, smiling, touching you haunting your every waking moment. And now it’s his fault that you can’t fall asleep.

“You got lucky. That proves nothing.”

“Why the hell are you awake?? It’s 3am!”

“I could ask you the same question”.

“You’ve got a busy schedule, I don’t!”, you explain.

“You still need sleep”. Why? On earth? Does he care?

“I can’t ok. There’s too much going through my head right now”.

“Tell me”.

You hesitate. You can’t tell him that he’s the reason. But if you’re being honest, there are plenty of other things that are keeping you awake.

“Mostly I’m just worried about my brother”, you admit. “I haven’t heard from him in a while”.

“Oh? How old is your brother? Are you two close?”

“Yeah. He’s only my half-brother but we grew up together. He’s 7 so I feel like I practically raised him. The reason I moved here to live with my mom is that I got into a huge fight with my dad and he pretty much threw me out.”

You stare at the long text you just sent, already regretting opening up to Dino. You don’t know him that well and you’re not sure how he’ll react.

“Do you have any reason to believe that your brother isn’t safe?”

“No!”, You hurriedly reply. “I’m sure he’s fine. It’s just that he’s been getting bullied a little at school and I can’t protect him from that over here. He’s deaf but dad wanted him to go to a regular school. I’m just not sure it’s good for him.”

You think about your brother. Just because he can’t hear the other kids laugh at him doesn’t mean he isn’t aware of what’s going on. You remember how upset he was that one time when he came home from school. He’s always been fine at home since you and your dad know sign language, but you know that it’s hard for him to feel so alone, so different, so excluded when he’s around ignorant hearing people.

“Is your dad not helping him? Bullying is a serious issue and I understand that you’re a little worried.”

You smile. It’s just like Dino to willingly give up his sleep to listen to your problems and do his best to help you.

“I just hope he’s ok. He hasn’t been replying to my texts.”

“Have you tried sending your dad a message?”

You frown, thinking about your last interaction with your dad.

“I’d rather not. He hates me.” You hope Dino won’t ask you to elaborate.

“I’m sure that’s not true”.

You shake your head.

“You don’t understand”.

“Then help me understand! I want to be there for you”.

“Why?” It doesn’t make sense to you. He just met you, yet he’s being a better friend than any of your other friends ever have been. Why would he even want to be your friend?

“Why not? From what I can tell you’re an amazing person. If this is keeping you up at night, you shouldn’t have to go through it alone.”

You sigh. How do you deserve him in your life?

“My dad caught me kissing my friend. I didn’t think he was homophobic, but apparently I was wrong. I never knew how to tell him that I’m bi, and now I know that I was right to be afraid”.

“I’m sorry he reacted so badly. I bet that was very difficult to go through. You didn’t deserve to be yelled at”. You smile as you read his message. You never told anyone before, even your mom doesn’t know why you and your dad were arguing. It feels good to read those words.

“Thank you Dino. That’s exactly what I needed to hear”. You cringe at your word choice because obviously you can’t hear a text message. But you’re sure he understands what you mean. You think about what it would be like if he was there with you right now, sitting on your bed in the dark and saying those comforting words out loud.

“I’m here for you. Even if I can’t help much. Please know that you can always talk to me. I’m pretty busy most of the time but I’ll make time for you whenever I can”.

You roll your eyes. He needs to stop being so selfless.

“Just go to sleep already. I’ll be ok.'' And you know you will be. Somehow, whenever you’re talking to Dino, the world looks just a tiny bit brighter.

It’s Saturday, and you’re bored out of your mind. Your mom is working - in her world, weekends don’t exist - so you wrack your brain trying to come up with something useful that you can do, something that will distract you from the fact that Dino hasn’t texted you since that night.

Deciding that it’s time to stop staring at your phone, you put on an old t-shirt and some cut-off shorts and take the bus to the garden center. Your mom’s yard is bare and you love flowers, so you decide there’s no better way to spend your last Saturday before school starts planting flowers for your mom. After all, you live here now, so you have every right to add some splashes of color to the yard.

You walk through the aisles of the garden center with a huge smile on your face. You stop in front of a yellow rose and bend over to smell the flower. Your eyes are closed. Birds are chirping somewhere close by. It’s still wet and a little fresh since it’s early in the day, but the sun feels nice on your face.

The noise of a camera taking a photo has you open your eyes and turn around. Your eyes find Dino’s. He slowly lowers his camera and flashes you a bright smile.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be taking pictures of me!”

Jun is standing several feet to your left, posing with another flower.

“Sorry”. Dino turns and snaps a picture of Jun.

You know you should probably leave them alone, but you can’t help being curious. You walk towards where they are looking at the photos together now.

“Can I see?”, you ask. You take the camera out of Dino’s hands and quickly flip through the photos until you get to the next-to-last one. It’s so zoomed in that you can’t even see Jun. You lean your head to the side. You look happy in the photo, carefree. You frown when you realize that your outfit is a lot more casual than theirs.

“Uh, could I please have my camera back?” You look up.

“Oh, right”. You hand the camera back to Dino and for a split second, your fingers brush his. You blush and look at him. Your eyes meet and you can’t look away.

Suddenly, Jun clears his throat.

“Dino? I have to go.”

Dino doesn’t move.

“Go ahead, I’ll meet you later.” You watch his lips move while he talks. Why does he have to be so freaking hot?

You blink and take a step back. You shove your hands in your pockets.

“If you have to go, you-“

“-oh, no! It’s okay. I don’t have to go yet”, he interrupts. You nod. Silence spreads between the two of you. You both start speaking at the same time, then stop and laugh.

“You first”, he says.

“What are you doing here?”, you ask. This is the last place you expected to run into him.

“We were shooting a video nearby and me and Jun were just taking some photos for instagram.”

You shake your head. You never thought it was this easy to run into idols around here.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you. Why did you just leave like that?” Ah. The time you went to his dorm. You still don’t know why he tried to stop you from leaving.

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You shrug. Did he really think you were that obsessed with him?

“You would never bother me!”

“I’m just a fan.” A fan who knows to respect his privacy. A fan who is very aware of how kind he is and would never take advantage of that.

“You are?” He smiles.

You cross your arms.

“Of course I am!”

“So what are you doing here?” The abrupt change of topic takes you by surprise.

“I just wanted to buy some flowers I could plant in the garden.”

He pushes his hair back and grins. He’s like literal sunshine and you can’t help but feel warm standing this close to him. You watch his chest move with every breath he takes. Bad thoughts pop into your head and you try to stop staring.

“That sounds fun! Would you like some help?”

You tell yourself to say no, try to convince yourself that he’s only being nice. But it doesn’t work. You can’t dismiss the opportunity to spend more time with him.

You take a deep breath and look straight into his eyes.

“On one condition”, you say as you grab his hand and pull him back towards the plants.

“You let me cook you a meal to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Deal”, he says. He squeezes your hand and lets go. “How about that one?” He points at the Lilies. You nod. They’re close to blooming. Excitement bubbles in your chest as you imagine the beautiful colors that are going to fill the yard soon.

The two of you walk around and show each other all kinds of flowers. Dino grabs an abandoned cart and begins to fill it up while listening to your happy chatter.

“I had a bunch of flowers on the balcony back in Paris. We didn’t have a garden but it was fun to take care of the plants. It gave me something to look forward to every day. It made life a little less bland.” You sigh. “I wish I could have taken them with me.”

Dino flashes you a smile.

“You’re getting new ones now. It sounds like a great hobby. It seems to make you very happy.”

You make me very happy, you think. But obviously you don’t say that out loud. You just stare ahead and try, unsuccessfully,  not to blush. He’s walking right next to you and you can feel him stare. It feels surreal to have his attention focused on just you.

He clears his throat. You whip your head around and regret it immediately. He’s just too perfect. You can’t figure out what he gets out of spending time with you.

“You have other friends, right?”, you ask.

He frowns.

“What kind of a question is that?”

You shrug.

“I was just wondering why you’re here with me instead of them.”

“Ah.”

It takes him some time to answer.

“You’re new here and your mom isn’t around much. I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“So you just feel bad for me?” You knew it.

He stops in his tracks and touches your shoulder.

“No.  That’s not what I’m saying.”

You shake your head and start walking again, making a beeline towards the checkout register.

“Let’s just forget about it.”

The two of you get to your house, arms loaded with bags, an hour later. You direct Dino to the first flower bed you want to tackle. Then you fetch the tools you need from the shed while Dino takes the flowers out of the bags.

You work together, mostly in silence. It feels great to feel the dirt in your hands again. Something about working with nature just makes you feel at peace, no matter what else is going on in your life.

After you’re done, you turn on the hose to spray off your hands. You realize too late that Dino has come up behind you. Faster than you thought possible, he reaches around you and grabs the hose, turning the spray right in your face. You screech and chase him, laughing,until you finally manage to corner him against the wall. He turns off the hose and holds up his hands, pleading for mercy. You just wink and grab the hose. But before you can turn it back on he tackles you and both of you fall onto the grass, a tangle of limbs. At this point you’re sure that your neighbors can hear your laughter. You want to hold onto him forever,  but before you know it he jumps up and reaches out a hand to help you get up as well.

“Thirsty?”, you ask, mostly to diffuse the tension but also because your throat is suddenly dry.

“Sure.”

You leave Dino outside to grab some drinks. When you return he’s laying on his back, eyes closed, face relaxed. You hand him his soda and sit in the grass beside him, legs crossed. You look up at the blue sky and the trees around the property swaying gently in the breeze.

“It’s a beautiful day.” Dino’s bangs fall into his eyes. You lean forwards and sweep them back, careful not to touch him too much. Before you can lean back, he grabs your hand and places it against his cheek. Your eyes widen but you don’t move. You hold your breath and time seems to stand still.

Your phone  vibrates in your back pocket. You shake yourself out of your trance and fish it out. Your eyebrows draw together in confusion when you see who has texted you.

“What’s wrong?”, Dino asks. He sits up.

You look up at him. Worry has replaced the smile on your face.

“It’s my dad”, you say,  voice shaking. “My brother is missing.”

#fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #seventeen #dino #seventeen dino #seventeen dino fanfiction #lee chan #dino fluff #seventeen fluff

[probably-not-star-lord]

Guardians of the Galaxy: Part 11 (Peter Quill x Reader)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

A/N: Hey sorry it took me a little while to get this part done but here it is. Honestly, it kinda sucks just cause it’s a bunch of fighting and not enough flirting with Peter. There is one final part after this and then I am going to be writing one for Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 2 which should come out shortly! Hope y’all enjoy!

Warnings: swearing, mild violence

-

As you emerge from Peter's quarters, you can't help but feel a pair of judgemental eyes watching you. Turning around you face Rocket who is leaning against the doorway with a satisfied grin. He notices you wearing Peter's large shirt that hangs down to your thighs and a pair of Peter's boxers peeking out from underneath. You suddenly become aware of how suspicious you look, slowly shutting Peter's door wearing his clothes as the raccoon stares you down.

"Rocket," you acknowledge nervously, hoping he doesn't notice the waver in your voice.

"Y/N," he responds smugly. "Nice pajamas."

"Shut up, furball."

Rocket snickers. "Hey, no need to get defensive. I figured it was only a matter of time before I caught you leaving Quill's room in the morning."

Intrigued, you raise an eyebrow. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Come on, Y/N," Rocket states casually as if you already know what he is going to say. "You and Quill have been dying to jump each other's bones the moment you first met."

"That's ridiculous," you defend, looking away from Rocket.

"Keep telling yourself that," he responds, turning around with a grumble. He begins to saunter away from you, mumbling under his breath. "You Terrans are so fucking oblivious."

As everyone slowly starts to wake up, you all meet up in the common area of Yondu's ship. Yondu and the Ravagers offer up some Ravager garb for the group, that way you will all look like a team. You all take the offer and go off to change. Everyone's outfits are able to accommodate their individual needs during the battle. Peter wears his usual Ravager clothing that has holsters for his guns and spots for his rocket launchers on his boots, paired with his iconic leather jacket of course. Drax ditches the shirt and only wears the red pants and boots that allow him to store his swords inside. Rocket dresses in what would be an average outfit for himself: a vest and pants that have strategic places for all of his insane weapons. Gamora puts on a Ravager outfit that also contains a spot for her sword and weapons. Obviously, Groot wears nothing because he never does.

Lastly, you step into the bathroom and are thankful to change out of your dirty clothes from Morag. You were reluctant to change back into them this morning, but after your discussion with Rocket, you figured it would have been a terrible idea to leave Peter's room wearing his underwear. The new Ravager outfit they give you looks identical to Gamora's, but it has space for guns instead of swords. Checking yourself out in the mirror, you zip up the red jacket that looks incredibly good on you. It's not too revealing but it's not too modest either. You like the way the tight pants grip your curves and how the boots make your legs look amazing. Automatically, you strap your walkman to your belt and are very happy with your final appearance.

You step outside the bathroom door where you find Peter leaning up against the wall. Upon hearing the door open, his head shoots up and he stares right at you. His eyes travel down your body, exploring every inch of it in your new outfit. Holding back a snicker, you smirk at him. "Guess I look pretty good then, huh?"

"You look so fucking hot..." Peter mumbles to himself, face distraught. He hears you laugh at him so he coughs and makes his voice deeper. "I mean...yeah you look pretty good."

"Thanks," you say, turning on your heel to head down the hallway. "You look hot as well, Peter." You can feel him grin at you as he stays close on your trail, following your every step. He wouldn't dare walk in front of you, because then he couldn't get the nice view he has from behind you.

In the common area, you all agree to go through the plan one more time as you approach Xandar. Rocket steps in front of the group. "There's one more thing we need to complete the plan," he announces, everyone looking at him. "That guy's eye!" He points to a Ravager with a mechanical eye and you chuckle thinking back to when Rocket made Peter retrieve a prisoner's prosthetic leg.

"No!" Peter shouts. "No, we don't. No, we don't need that guy's eye."

"No, seriously, I need it! It's important to me." Rocket laughs to himself. Thankfully, no one lets him try and take the man's eye, although it would be kind of funny.

"We do not need that dude's eye," you giggle, nudging Rocket.

After going over everything one more time, Peter goes off to send a message to the Nova Corp officers that arrested you guys a few days ago while Rocket gets his weapons ready. You look over your guns and practice aiming them while Drax and Gamora train with their swords.

"Ronan's fleet has been spotted and will arrive in T-minus fifteen minutes," a voice on the ship's speakers recites.

You sit down on a bench in the common area of Yondu's ship. You take a deep breath, breathing in and out slowly. What if you die today? It's a very big possibility and honestly, it scares you, no matter how tough you try to come across to others. Peter speaks briefly with Yondu and then takes a seat next to you.

"Hey," he mutters, nudging you with his shoulder. "You nervous?"

"Yeah."

"Well, don't be. I really think we got this under control. We can take down Ronan."

You sigh. "But what if we can't, Peter? We all said we might die out there today and we were all fine with it. What if that actually happens?"

"You think I'm gonna let you die without kissin' you again?" Peter jokes, causing you to chuckle. He slings his arm around you and pulls you into him. He smells like vanilla and leather and you want to savor the warmth of his comforting embrace. "In all seriousness, Y/N, I'm gonna try my best to make sure nothing happens to you...or anyone."

"Okay..." you smile up at him. "We can do this."

"Hell yeah, we can! Plus, I totally got somethin' that will cheer you up." He gets up from the seat and removes the tape from his walkman. He pops it into the player and "Cherry Bomb" by the Runaways echoes throughout the ship. Peter immediately starts dancing to the music like an absolute dork. He was right, that definitely cheers you up.

He pulls you along with him as the rest of the gang lines up to walk toward your ships as the beat plays in the background. First, it's just you and Peter, then Gamora walks alongside you, then Drax, then Groot, and then Rocket. You felt like superheroes walking in slow-motion to save the day. That's a pretty new and exciting feeling.

"Don't fuck up out there, humie." Rocket looks up at you with a sly grin. "I'm counting on you."

"Yeah, right," you snicker. "You're just saying that cause you're worried I might die out there and you'd miss me too much."

"Maybe," the raccoon discloses. "But don't get all high and mighty about it." He begins to walk away toward the flight deck.

"Hey, Rocket!" You call out to him. "You don't fuck up out there either, okay?"

"Me? I wouldn't dream of it."

"Let's go get em, boys!" Yondu hollers from the pilot's seat. He opens the gate below the ship and several smaller ships emerge. Rocket is in another craft while you, Peter, Gamora, Drax, and Groot head out in the Milano. Peter steers the ship and he has that cute, giddy grin he gets whenever he is piloting.

"This is a terrible plan," Gamora complains.

"Hey," Peter retorts. "You're the one who said you wanted to die among friends and family."

As Ronan's ship, the Dark Aster, enters, all of the ravager ships block his path. On Yondu's command, you all begin firing at it. The ship manages to deflect most of the shots and gets ready to shoot at you and the ravagers, so Rocket and a few other crafts head to the starboard side, trying to knock it down. The Dark Aster releases the tiny ships with Ronan's henchmen in them so they can shoot at the ravagers.

"Quill! Yondu! Now!" Rocket calls. Peter steers through the madness of the battle with Yondu beside your ship. As you get closer to approaching Ronan's ship, Yondu gets taken down.

"Hell!" he screams. "I'm going down, Quill. No more games with me, boy! I'll see you at the end of this." With that, his ship goes down to the surface of Xandar. Peter just groans at his statement and continues to get to Ronan's ship. It grows more and more difficult to dodge the shots, and after you're hit by one it feels impossible.

"There are too many of them, Rocket! We‟ll never make it up there!" Gamora yells.

Suddenly, a fleet of ships enters and begins assisting you in taking down Ronan's smaller crafts. It's the Nova army! To your surprise, they're here to help you.

"Peter Quill," a voice calls from one of the Nova ships. "This is Denarian Saal of the Nova Corp. For the record, I advised against trusting you here."

Peter's face lights up. "They got my dick message!" he exclaims. You laugh while the rest of the crew seems to raise their eyebrows at him.

"Prove me wrong," Saal states.

Now with the help of the Nova Corp, you're able to pick up the pace and blast through the Dark Aster. It is very hard to come to a stop as the Milano scrapes against the floor while several henchmen shoot at you. All the while, Drax is cracking up in the back seat. Peter manages to stop the ship successfully while Ronan's goons scurry.

"Yes!" Drax shouts in excitement. "Yes!" He continues to laugh hysterically.

"We are just like Kevin Bacon!" Gamora points out. You and Peter share a look, appreciating her enthusiasm for a Footloose reference.

"Definitely," you answer your sister, causing her smile to shine brighter.

You leave the Milano, taking some useful weapons with you, and step out into the foggy interior of the ship. The area is completely dark and obviously, the fog only makes things worse. "I can barely see," Drax says what everyone is thinking. Groot extends his hand, and when he opens it, a bunch of fireflies flutter out. You stare at them in awe. Not only are they beautiful to look at, but they illuminate the ship, allowing all of you to see clearly. "When did you learn to do that?" Drax asks.

"Pretty sure the answer is 'I am Groot'" Peter huffs.

"The flight deck is three hundred meters away," Gamora informs. The group nods and resumes walking in the right direction.

"I want you all to know that I am grateful to your acceptance after my blunders. It is pleasing to once again have...friends," Drax conveys. "You, Quill, are my friend."

"Thanks," he replies.

"Y/N is my friend."

"Right back at ya."

"This dumb tree, he is my friend," Drax says. Groot hums in acknowledgment. "And this green whore, she to-"

"Oh, you must stop!" Gamora snaps.

All of a sudden, Nebula drops before you. "Gamora, Y/N, look at what you have done!" she states. "You two have always been weak. You're stupid, traitorous..."

Drax shoots her with his gun and she falls into the broken debris of the ship. "Nobody talks to my friends like that." You and Gamora send him smiles of gratitude.

"Head to the flight deck," Gamora says. "I'll shut down the power to the security doors."

As you jog toward the flight deck, Korath and his men stop you. "Star-Lord," he states.

The corners of Peter's lips creep up into a goofy grin. "Finally!" He is truly the biggest dork ever, but a cute dork nonetheless. The two of them engage in a fight while the rest of you quickly take down his henchmen. Drax cuts them with his swords while you fire at them with your guns. Groot gets rid of them in his own ways, punching and extending his roots and such. Korath throws Peter up against a wall and he seems as though he is unable to get up.

Your eyes widen as you stare at Peter almost nearing defeat. The men you're fighting off almost notice your distraction and the way you easily let your guard down, yet you punch or shoot them one by one. As you continue firing shots and fighting the henchmen, your mind wanders to Peter as you attempt to make your way over to him.

Luckily, Drax goes to his defense and begins attacking Korath. Korath shoves him down against the floor. "You will never make it to Ronan."

Peter gets back up and you fight side by side to take down the henchmen. He uses his rocket launchers to slide across the ground and shoot at any of the henchmen in the way. Drax continues to fight Korath, punching him until he has him pushed up against the wall.

"Finger to the throat means death." He slams his head and Korath shakes until he falls to the floor, dead. You and Peter stare at Drax. "Metaphor," he declares.

Peter shrugs. "Yeah, sort of." He turns to see a ton more men run toward you. "Oh no," he mutters. But, Groot grows his hand and takes every single one of them down, screaming in rage during the process. He turns to look back at the three of you and simpers sheepishly. You move forward.

You feel the ship move downward as it pulsates through the blockade the Nova Corp army created. Ronan has started heading toward the city and you are losing the battle.

"Quill, you gotta hurry," Rocket says through the earpiece in Peter's mask. "The city's been evacuated, but we're getting our asses kicked down here."

"Gamora hasn't opened the door!" Peter responds, slamming his fists on the closed door you need to get through. You wait for a few brief seconds until it finally opens. You duck into the flight deck, where Gamora enters on the opposite side. You kill all of the henchmen blocking your path to Ronan so you can all stand behind him, ready to defeat him once and for all. Peter gets the hadron enforcer warmed up and takes the shot. It hits Ronan, exploding him into a blue cloud of dust. Peter deactivates his mask and smiles brightly.

"You did it!" Drax cheers.

However, your beaming grins soon change into frowns as you see Ronan stand up. You and Peter share a look of fright, he wasn't able to kill Ronan. He can't protect you now. Ronan gets up and faces all of you. He lifts his hammer that contains the Infinity Stone and turns it, causing you to fly back. Drax collects himself instantly and sprints toward Ronan, who puts him in a chokehold once he gets near him. He struggles to breathe and his feet dangle, kicking as he fights against his grip.

"I was mistaken," Ronan's loud voice booms. "I do remember your family. Their screams were pitiful. I-" he is cut off by Rocket's ship entering and slamming into him. This causes the whole quadrant to go up in flames and you know the entire ship is about to explode.

Peter retrieves Rocket from the ship and brings him toward Groot while you and Gamora drag Drax over. Pieces of the ship crumble around you and you feel it going down. Groot looks around amongst all of you and then grows every branch on his body to cover you in his protection of strong sticks. He uses the branches to strap you down and keep you secure. You reach out and grab Peter's hand. He intertwines his fingers with yours and sends you a meaningful look. You stare into his magnificent, green eyes as you prepare for your descent into the ground on Xandar.

"No, Groot. You can't, you'll die," Rocket says to him. "Why are you doing this? Why?" He starts to tear up as he watches his best friend try his best to save you.

He uses a small, curved twig to rub against Rocket's face. "We...are...Groot," he delivers. You all understand and appreciate that he is risking his life to save his friends. You mean something to him, and him to the rest of you.

As you draw closer to the ground, you close your eyes and brace for impact. Ronan's ship slams into the hard surface and explodes, destroying Groot and throwing the rest of you around. You feel the gravel beneath you and sit up. Peter's speaker from the Milano must have been tossed in the process because it begins playing once it hits the ground. The song "Ooh Child" by the Five Stairsteps plays through the sounds of explosions and ship pieces crumbling.

You all have various injuries as you hassle to get up, groaning as your feet touch the dirt. Rocket collects some remaining sticks from Groot and cries quietly to himself. Ronan evacuates the ship, his Infinity Stone hammer in hand.

"You killed Groot!" Rocket screams as he runs toward Ronan. He waves the hammer slightly, sending Rocket away into the dust and knocking him out.

"Behold!" Ronan announces. "Your Guardians of the Galaxy. What fruit have they wrought? Only that my father and his father shall finally know vengeance. People of Xandar, the time has come to rejoice and renounce your paltry gods! Your salvation is at hand." During his speech, you notice Rocket regain consciousness and work on a weapon. Drax assists him and you turn to Peter. He meets your gaze and knows he must do something to save you.

Just as Ronan raises his hammer to slam down and wipe out Xandar, Peter stands up and sings along to the song.

"Ooh child, things are gonna get easier,

Ooh child things will get brighter,"

"Listen to these words," he commands, pointing a finger at Ronan.

"Ooh child, things are gonna get easier,

Ooh child things will get brighter,"

"Now bring it down hard!" He dances while he sings along and the entire crew watches him and confusion. You just stand there and smile, knowing exactly what he is doing.

"Someday we'll put it together and we'll get it undone,"

"What are you doing?" Ronan questions.

Peter pumps his hips in the air as he gets more into it. "Dance-off bro! Me and you." Everyone stares at him while he continues to dance. He extends a hand to you. "Y/N..." You shake your head, simply due to your fear of Ronan. In any other circumstance, you would've gladly danced with him. "Subtle," he says. "Take it back."

Ronan fumes with anger at Peter's ridiculousness. "What are you doing?" he spits.

"I'm distractin' you, you big turd blossom."

Ronan turns to his other side where he finds Rocket and Drax holding up the Hadron Enforcer. They fire it at him, shattering the hammer and letting the Infinity Stone break loose. Peter lunges for it and so does Ronan. As Peter's hand closes around it, you wince. "No!" you cry.

He has it in his possession now, and you know it will kill him slowly. He falls to the ground and screams in pain, a dark cloud of purple surrounding all of you. The air inside the purple cloud is thick and hard to see in. Peter stands up and you struggle to make your way to him.

"Peter!" you wail. "Take my hand." You reach for him and he just stares at you blankly but you can see that he is certainly hurting everywhere. "Take my hand!" you repeat. Peter moves his hand toward yours and takes it, his big hand enveloping yours. You suddenly feel everything he is feeling and you can't help but scream too. Gamora climbs up next to you and takes your other hand. She also screams once she feels the pain. Drax pats Peter's shoulder and Rocket grasps Drax's his finger. Then you're all standing there screaming as you feel the agony of the Infinity Stone flow through you.

All connected, you become silent, standing there with straight faces looking right into Ronan. He stares at Peter in disbelief. "You're mortal! How?"

"You said it yourself, bitch," Peter states. "We're the Guardians of the Galaxy." he thrusts the Infinity Stone forward and it destroys Ronan in seconds, killing him at last. Gamora takes one of the devices from her side and apprehends the Infinity Stone with it. The purple cloud disappears and everyone is released of the irritation from touching the Stone. Peter faces you, his hair a mess and matted down with dirt and his face covered in cuts and bruises. You peer into each other's eyes as you find proper air to breathe, chests rising and falling forcefully. The two of you take steps closer to one another until there is almost no space left between you and him. He looks down at your lips and then back into your eyes. You desperately want him to grab you and kiss you passionately, but a familiar voice interrupts.

"Well, well, well, quite the light show," Yondu yelps, striding towards you. "Ain't this sweet, but you got some business to attend to before all the nookie-nookie starts.

"Peter, you can't give it to him," you utter.

"You gotta reconsider this, Yondu. I don't know who you're sellin' this to, but the only way the universe can survive is if you give it to the Nova Corp."

"I may be as pretty as an angel, but I sure as hell ain't one." He adjusts his jacket so his arrow is aimed at Peter, threatening him if he doesn't cooperate. "Hand it over, son."

Peter reluctantly passes it to him. "Yondu, do not open that orb. You know that, right? You've seen what it does to people." Yondu just nods in response and then saunters off with the rest of the ravagers to their ships. You sigh, knowing Peter had to give it to him even if it was unsafe. "He is gonna be so pissed when he realizes I switched out the orb on him."

"Clever," you respond with a faint grin. "But he's gonna kill you when he finds out, Peter."

"I know, but he was about the only family I had."

Gamora put a hand on Peter's shoulder and smiles warmly up at him. "No, he wasn't," she says. The rest of Guardians face one another with beaming grins.

Peter looks away from the team and turns to face you, looking at him with eyes of admiration. You admire his handsome face even if he looks a bit disheveled. He shoots you a kind smile and leans in to put his hands on your waist.

"Now how about that kiss?"

Part Twelve: Here

#writing #fiction #fanfiction #imagines #gotg imagine #gotg fic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu #avengers #avengers infinity war #infinity war #avengers x reader #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy x reader #peter quill #peter quill x reader #peter quill smut #star lord #star lord x reader #star lord smut #peter parker #peter parker x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fluff