#I was nervous but I fuckin loved this first volume

[primal-con]

Note to my fellow nerds, befriend your local comic book shop guys cause then they’ll let you buy the first complete volume of the skybound comics a week ahead of release apparently?? Anyways Carly, Jazz, Cliffjumper I love you they finally did you right <33

[irisintheafterglow]

Can I request a racer!bakugo showing off his two most precious things after winning a big race, the trophy and his girl pleaseee?

THIS IS SO CUTE I LOVE LOVE LOVE <33 also i can't find it but this is definitely inspired by that one bakugo fic where he's doing a vogue interview about the things he can't leave the house or live without (if anyone knows the link for it please please let me know because it's one of my all-time favorites)

"oh, look! it's bakugo! hey, man!"

"the hell are you doing outside my house?" the interviewer laughs nervously behind the camera, but your boyfriend's scowl doesn't move. it's a wonder that he's still viewed positively in the public eye despite his brash personality. you pinch the bridge of your nose with your fingers and avert your eyes from the second-floor window, sending another prayer begging for him to behave. the interview took place in his own home, for crying out loud. shouldn't he be the most comfortable in his safest space?

the answer is, unfortunately, no.

"i'm uh, here for your '73 questions' interview with vogue. d'you mind if i step inside with you?" he grunts reluctantly in response, swinging the front door open unceremoniously. you pity the poor guy who had to follow your husband around and chuck questions at him like armed grenades; there was always a chance that he would blow up. "so, where were you coming from?"

"grocery store. you want a drink?" good. at least he remembers his manners. "we got water, juice...i ain't giving you alcohol. i don't even know who the hell you are." never mind.

you spend the next 12-something minutes following their one-sided conversation around the house, careful to stay out of sight and silently begging your boyfriend to at least act a little warmer. the only time he does open up, much to the delight of fans, is when he's talking about you.

"'the things most precious to me?' i don't fuckin' know," you can hear him say plainly. you'd resigned to your shared bedroom to finish up some work when you heard the telltale calls of babe, c'mere! babe. babe. babe! from downstairs. with a huff, you set down your pen and make your way into the living room, where you see him holding his latest first-place trophy. it shines under the afternoon sun coming through the backyard windows. the camera pans to you in surprise and you thank your earlier self for wearing something other than pajamas.

"babe, c'mere," he insists and you roll your eyes in exasperation. his arm slips around your waist and you're suddenly hyperaware of the camera that's going to post your image to millions of people. "alright, nerd, you asked me what i wanna show off? they're right here," he boasts proudly and your face starts to heat up. "got my badass lover, my big-ass trophy, and i don't need anything else," he says with unexpected tenderness. "you got that?"

"y-yeah, i got it," the interviewer stutters out. "uh, thank you-"

"the hell do you look so nervous for? i don't fuckin' bite," he says and the man stammers again. "i don't know why i bother doing all this shit," he murmurs in your ear.

"this is why outlets are so scared to interview you, kats," you whisper and he shrugs indifferently. "you scare reporters too easily."

"don't care. i just wanna relax and spend my day off with you. i'm too tired to be dealing with this shit," he grumbles and you laugh under your breath. "baby?"

"hmm?"

"can you do me a big favor?" you narrow your eyes suspiciously while the cameraman fumbles about with his equipment, packing up to leave.

"depends on the favor," you say carefully. "will i need to compromise my morals?" your boyfriend barks out a laugh, and the reporter startles.

"no, no. nothing like that," he reassures you and drops his volume so that only you can hear him. "baby, sweetheart, love of my life?"

"yes, katsuki?"

"please get this man the fuck out of our house."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[raccoonfallsharder]

Window Across the Galaxy ✧*:･ﾟ updated 11/14

18+ only | rocket x oc | 19/25 Chapters | WIP | Word Count: pending.

girl falls first; racoon falls harder.

She can see Rocket darting from camera to camera, catwalk to catwalk: legs a blur, tail flicking for balance or streaming behind him. She rises from her crouch and drifts toward the screens, chest hollow, wanting to be as close as possible to what she’s seeing. She traces a shaky, nervous finger over the edge of one screen. “I can’t believe he gets so mad at me for going off on my own,” she tells Yondu, “and then pulls shit like this–” “I’m not gettin’ in the middle of that,” Yondu interrupts her, and whistles again. Every time Rocket disappears from frame, Jolie catches her breath. This time, when he reappears, Yondu’s arrow is hovering over his shoulder, and that makes her breath a bit easier. He exits one screen, and then launches into view on another – the catwalk that Taserface is stalking down.

[NEW 11/14] ✧･ﾟ:*Chapter XIX. He Was Loved. in which a planet is killed, a friend is made and lost, and nobody still has any frickin’ tape.

angst & cw for the vague description of a hand injury. as a sidenote i appreciate those of you who have stuck with me this long. i reread my first few chapters this week and i fuckin suck at beginnings. i don't know how you all lasted this long but i am grateful ~ ♡

General summary/notes + links to recently preceding chapters behind the cut. let me know via comment, message, or ask if you'd like to be added or removed from my fanfic taglist ♡

Rocket is captured by a Ravager crew hoping to get rich off the excessively large bounty on his head. Throwing a wrench in everyone’s plans is the Terran girl they hired to do some freelance assessing on a recent haul of goods they’ve seized from a Xandaran luxury liner. Oops.

slight AU starting pre-GOTG volume 1 (but will hit most of the same major plot points). slow burn + eventual smut with a lot of pining in the middle. kinda enemies-to-lovers? (but only one of these idiots thinks they're enemies). let me be real with you: this fic is really about wish-fulfillment. not just the eventual smut (but that too). mostly i just want someone to be nice to my best boy raccoon

*･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*

Chapter I. A Delicacy. in which our reluctant heroes meet atop a crate of Sovereign porn in the bowels of a Ravager ship.

Chapter II. Monster For A Pet. in which one hero wrestles with his inner Groot, and the other is quite possibly a moron.

Chapter III. A Kindness. in which Rocket gets in his own damn way: not for the first time, and certainly not for the last.

Chapter IV. Got There First. in which our heroes obtain an arsenal and street food.

Chapter V. Things No-One Has Said Before. in which one hero refuses to babysit and the other refuses to leave.

Chapter VI. Two and a Half Billion Units. in which we lean into the “they were roommates” trope. Jolie has misgivings, while Rocket has fantasies - about getting rich, of course.

Chapter VII. I'm Here. in which we visit Knowhere.

Chapter VIII. The Care & Feeding of Human Pets. in which our heroes practice breathing and we lean into a new trope: “there was (technically) one bed.”

Chapter IX. Scrapmetal and a Dream. in which we redefine homemaking.

Chapter X. Thin Fucking Ice. in which our heroes get fucked. Not in the good way.

Chapter XI. Let It Be. in which Xandar is saved and good lives are lost.

Chapter XII. So Much It Hurts. in which we try not to fuck up the vibes.

Chapter XIII. Don’t Wait. in which a lost sister is found and Drax grapples with the concept of sarcasm.

Chapter XIV. Exactly Like a Flower. in which comfort is shared.

Chapter XV: Galaxy-Breaking Shit. in which more comfort is shared, and life is good. Briefly.

Chapter XVI. Run. in which Rocket falls victim to his superstitions.

Chapter XVII. A Seedling. A Fox. A Little Girl. in which the party is divided.

Chapter XVIII. I Happen to Know a Guy. in which our heroes get fucked. Again. Still not in the good way.

Chapter XIX. He Was Loved. in which a planet is killed, a friend is made and lost, and nobody still has any frickin’ tape.

Chapter XX. Some Nerve. in which an ultimatum is given.

Chapter XXI. I Very Still. in which our heroes get fucked. In the good way, this time. Finally.

Chapter XXII. Got There Worse. in which Rocket does not say "I love you."

Chapter XXIII. Space Would Be Better Off. in which Rocket ~ discreetly ~ claims the title of boyfriend.

Chapter XXIV.

Chapter XXV.

Epilogue: Interviewing Rocket & Jo. ten years after Window ends. short/drabbly, silly fluff.

taglist ♡ @evolvingchaoswitch ♡ @wren-phoenix ♡ @pretty-chips ♡ @suicidalshitstick

[cubedmango]

YOU’RE WELCOME BELOVED OMG I’M JUST SO HAPPY YOU GOT TO SEE THEM YOU DESERVED IT BUT ALSO FUCKNSKSG):&:? honestly the problem with having them downloaded is everytime I open my gallery and go to the favourites folder the thumbnails are there and it’s like a SICK TAUNT OF OH REMEMBER THIS HAPPENS? WELL YOU STILL GOTTA WAIT TO WATCH IT but oh my god. zaina. Oh my God I can’t explain there are truly no. words to explain how that messed me up I DON’T KNOW WHAT IT IS I REALLY DON’T KNOW BUT THE HANDSSSSSS LIKE MALFUNCTIONING IS THE ONLY WAY TO DESCRIBE IT BECAUSE ):£:!&::? only cherry magic like only them there was no need there was NONE why did they have to move their hands together like that why did they have to embed love and tenderness into every gesture THE FUCKIN CAMERA ANGLES ON THE [REDACTED] AND WHEN ADACHI JUST HELD UP KUROSAWA’S HAND I’M ACTUALLY BAWLING😭 I felt every single one of the exclamation marks you used like it truly feels like there’s seagulls in my brain i’m worried my neighbours think i’m insane like I just don’t understand how they managed to turn something so small as the union of hands into something so MOVING so EARNEST and so tender it’s such a trademark for cherry magic also same tbh… like yeah sure some people wanted a real kiss but I honestly don’t mind it at all like are we kidding the way kurosawa’s eyes fluttering closed… adachi being so nervous but initiating it first………. The INTERLACING………… THEY NEVER ONCE THOUGHT ABOUT MY MENTAL HEALTH WHILE MAKING THIS DAMN MOVIE and please I’m not even gonna begin to talk about that last part . I have never seen such a strong look of love before in all my years of life they make me feel as though even if I ever found love it would never compare i’m Tired . ALSO PLS I LOVE HOW YOU JUST GET IT LIKE YOU KNOW EXACTLY HOW IT FEELS WE’RE THE SAME🫂🫂 WE’RE NEVER GONNA BE FREEEEE I don’t know what it is but kurodachi are just Different I haven’t even watched the movie yet but i’m already willing to go on my knees for a season two PLEEK (also sorry for the long message omg i’m so Unwell…,,.,)

day 583068 of naina and cherry magic anon's "Losing It Over This Movie They Havent Seen" experience and this time . we are losing it over A Couple Of Hands !!! BIG AGREE W EVERYTHING U SAID THO there rlly is smth different abt the kurodachi brand of hand holding tho like i just dont know how to explain it..... its just Tender™ and maybe i have watched the drama too many times but its just Their Thing™ like handholding was invented uniquely for my sons its true !! no one else is allowed to hold hands and go suki kawaii suki suki daisuki only them Only Them!!!!!!

also day 9462856 of me going "god i wish that were me" every time i see a movie spoiler but ur right smth like what they have is physically impossible irl like it just Cannot be real 😔😔 idk what crack they put into the cherry magic medias but somehow every single one of them has made me yearn so hard its actually incredible. i need to copy this formula for oc purposes

ID CRY IF S2 HAPPENS tho i doubt it tbh bc they basically condensed all of vol 6-10 into the movie and idk how many more volumes the manga is gonna have ?? but they could literally make a s2 of just kurodachis morning routine or them at work doing their job from 8-6 never even interacting besides the occasional glances and id eat that shit up i just want them baacckkk

[pesterloglog]

John Egbert, Dave Strider, Karkat Vantas, Vriska Serket

Act 6, page 7487-7492

JOHN: so tell me about your ridiculous meteor journey!

DAVE: um

JOHN: the dave from the bad time line told me some funny stories when we got together on the grassy hill planet

JOHN: but we weren't actually hanging out for that long, so i didn't hear much.

JOHN: also, i'm MOSTLY sure vriska wasn't alive during their trip.

DAVE: oh well let me tell you

DAVE: vriska was most certainly alive during this one

DAVE: like almost

DAVE: extra-alive, if thats possible

JOHN: haha.

JOHN: i think i know what you mean.

JOHN: i spent some time with her when she was a ghost, and uh...

JOHN: let's just say whatever her mortality status is, she makes her presence hard to ignore.

KARKAT: YES. YES!

KARKAT: I LOVE THIS.

KARKAT: CAN WE SPEND OUR WHOLE REMINISCENCE JUST DESTROYING VRISKA, SLIGHTLY ABOVE AUDIBLE LEVEL?

VRISKA: Slightly?

VRISKA: Karkat, you only have one volume setting.

KARKAT: WOW, FUCK YOU?!

DAVE: ok dude maybe lets not spend our paltime trash talking serket if only cus theres no way youre not getting repeatedly trounced exactly just like that

KARKAT: FFFFFFFFFFFFFYEAH.

KARKAT: YEAH, YOU'RE RIGHT.

KARKAT: OK, I'LL CHILL OUT. YOU'RE RIGHT DAVE, AS USUAL.

JOHN: wow.

JOHN: karkat, for a funny shouty guy, you backed down on that really fast.

JOHN: i'm almost... a bit disappointed?

JOHN: i was looking forward to more of your patented ravings!

KARKAT: HEY, JOHN FUCKBERT, I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW I'M A LITTLE MORE MATURE AND REASONABLE THAN THE LAST TIME YOU SAW ME.

KARKAT: I'M A LOT MORE THAN MR. HOLLERSPONGE ONE-NOTE, AND ANYONE WHO DISPUTES THIS CAN CORDIALLY INVITE ME TO PLAY THEIR DIRTY SEED FLAP LIKE A DISCOUNT HARMONICA.

JOHN: oh. well, i'm sold.

KARKAT: SERIOUSLY THOUGH, IT'S PRETTY COOL TO FINALLY MEET YOU. I MEAN, UNDER MORE CIVIL, RATIONAL CIRCUMSTANCES.

KARKAT: UNLIKE WHATEVER THE *FUCK* THAT BRIEF ENCOUNTER WAS THREE YEARS AGO WHERE YOU KO'D VRISKA AND THEN POOFED YOUR FLIMSY ASS INTO THE FUCKALL CONTINUUM.

KARKAT: I KNOW I SEEMED REALLY MAD ABOUT THAT AT THE TIME, FOR WHATEVER REASON.

KARKAT: BUT REALLY, I'VE HAD SOOOOO MANY BORING HOURS ON THAT METEOR TO SPEND BARELY REFLECTING ON THE ROUGHLY TEN THOUSAND WAYS I DON'T GIVE THE SLIGHTEST FUCK ABOUT WHATEVER IDIOTIC TWIST OF FATE TRANSPIRED BACK THERE.

JOHN: heheh. ok?

KARKAT: I'M COMPLETELY OVER IT.

KARKAT: I'M OVER A LOT OF THINGS ACTUALLY.

JOHN: ... you are?

KARKAT: YEAH.

KARKAT: LIKE, REMEMBER BACK WHEN I WAS YELLING AT YOU ALL THE TIME FROM MY COMPUTER.

KARKAT: BACK THEN I PROBABLY WOULD HAVE FELT NERVOUS OR AWKWARD ABOUT THIS ENCOUNTER.

KARKAT: BECAUSE OF... WELL, YOU KNOW.

JOHN: no?

KARKAT: I WAS HITTING ON YOU BRIEFLY, AND IN A VERY CONFUSING NON-CHRONOLOGICAL WAY, WITHOUT EVEN QUITE REALIZING HOW BADLY I WAS SHOVING MY STRUT POD DOWN MY OWN STATEMENT TUNNEL.

DAVE: dude

KARKAT: I MEAN, UNTIL YOU MERCIFULLY AND WITH A FAIR AMOUNT OF TACT SHUT ME DOWN.

KARKAT: DON'T YOU REMEMBER?

JOHN: uh...

JOHN: maybe?

KARKAT: HOW CAN YOU NOT REMEMBER THAT?

JOHN: i dunno, it was a long time ago!

JOHN: and we had a lot of ridiculous conversations...

KARKAT: OK, WELL MAYBE IT WAS A BIGGER DEAL FOR ME THAN IT WAS FOR YOU.

KARKAT: I MEAN, *OBVIOUSLY* IT WAS, THAT'S SORT OF THE WHOLE POINT.

KARKAT: BUT THE *REAL* POINT IS, OR THAT I WAS *TRYING* TO MAKE, IS THAT IT *ISN'T* A BIG DEAL ANY MORE.

KARKAT: BECAUSE I'M OVER IT!

DAVE: karkat what the fuck are you doing

KARKAT: WHAT!

KARKAT: I'M TALKING, QUITE CASUALLY, ABOUT SOME SHIT THAT'S NOT A BIG DEAL.

KARKAT: AND THE *POINT* IS THAT IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL ANYMORE, SO I'M JUST CASUALLY SAYING THAT! GOD.

DAVE: ok its not an unreasonable conversation to have but like

DAVE: we JUST started friend-jamming about past anecdotes to get us all up to speed or whatever

DAVE: and youre already trucking out these guns

KARKAT: GUNS? WHAT GUNS!

DAVE: just sayin, it doesnt sound that casual and no big deal if you keep saying its casual and no big deal oh and also its the first fuckin thing out of your mouth to john in three years

KARKAT: SORRY!

KARKAT: I'M SO TRULY FUCKING SORRY. I FORGOT THERE WAS SUCH AN OUTSTANDINGLY SMOOTH PILE OF SHIT IN A CAPE WITHIN MY JUDGMENT RADIUS!

JOHN: no, i mean, i think i remember.

JOHN: i think you were um, "black flirting" with me or something, but in backwards order, and while constantly yelling.

JOHN: and i didn't really even know what that was.

JOHN: and then i told you i wasn't a homosexual, so it was kind of a moot point, but also, you didn't even know what that was either?

KARKAT: YES!

KARKAT: THAT'S BASICALLY WHAT HAPPENED

KARKAT: AND THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I WAS *TRYING* TO SAY I WAS OVER, AND WASN'T A BIG DEAL ANYMORE, BUT NOW IT'S A BIG DEAL AGAIN I GUESS?

KARKAT: THAT'S FUCKING GREAT! THANKS DAVE!

DAVE: yo im hardly one to talk here since i am a goddamn geyser of hilariously self-pulverizing freudian bloopers

DAVE: at this point i cant even pretend to keep a lid on any shit ive got in me cause i know sooner or later during one of my rad soliloquies ill just pratfall butt backwards into an embarrassing admission and i just have to be like yeah... yeah ok thats my shit thats what im about lets just get the fuck on with our lives

DAVE: so when johns like hey man and youre all locked and loaded with some stuff about how youre 'over him' and go on and on about it its like some way obvious protest-too-much shit and everybody knows it so i dont see how it salvages any of your dignity or whatever to pretend thats not whats happening

KARKAT: OH MY FUCKING GOD...

DAVE: so what im saying is if youre so eager to push this out there-

KARKAT: I'M NOT "PUSHING THIS OUT THERE"!

DAVE: if youre pushing this out there which you are then maybe we should rap about it

DAVE: i mean discuss it critically and earnestly not drop ill rhymes or anything tho that could be sweet too

KARKAT: UEHRNGH.

DAVE: so are you SURE you still dont have these unreconciled blackrom feelings about john

DAVE: i say we air this out before it ferments into some rank and hella unexamined feeling sauce

JOHN: dave, i think you're making karkat uncomfortable!

JOHN: are you being a wise guy and trying to make us uncomfortable?

DAVE: no!

DAVE: i dont do that to bros thats huge uncool

DAVE: i dont see what has to be uncomfy about chattin out our true ass thoughts and emotions

KARKAT: YEEUURHNGHGHH.

DAVE: dude you clearly had a spades thing for john but i dont recall you ever bringing it up

DAVE: is this something you been thinking about all this time or

KARKAT: NO!

KARKAT: NOT... NOT REALLY

DAVE: yeah we coulda talked about this

DAVE: i have all KINDS of shit to say about john seeing as he was my number 1 dude for approximately the majority of 13 years

DAVE: the main dead end here man is like, nothing personal at all its just that he is literally incapable of hating anyone

KARKAT: I KNOW THAT!

KARKAT: THAT IS THE *EXACT* FUCKING THING I KNEW AND UNDERSTOOD, AND WHY I FELT SO STUPID ABOUT IT IN HINDSIGHT!

JOHN: well...

JOHN: not that i really want to egg on this train of thought, but i dunno if that's quite true.

KARKAT: IT'S NOT?

JOHN: i can get really angry and hate stuff too, just like you. but i think only in extreme cases?

JOHN: the skull guy in suspenders i got REALLY pissed off at...

JOHN: but i am a hundred percent sure that hate was platonic!

DAVE: gettin pissed off at a suspender dude sounds like just the sort of yarn i wanna be all ears for some time

DAVE: but ok thats something to work with

DAVE: hey karkat maybe theres some hope yet maybe its not a total lost cause

KARKAT: NERGH!

JOHN: ok, dave, it definitely sounds like you're trying to own us now!

DAVE: own

DAVE: what

DAVE: no way

DAVE: im being real as a motherfucker

JOHN: being able to hate things i think is...

JOHN: the smaller part of that equation?

JOHN: what about the other part? don't you think that's, uh...

JOHN: a little more significant?

DAVE: what part

JOHN: the part about not being a homosexual!!!

DAVE: john

DAVE: dude i gotta say

DAVE: when you talk about being or not being "a homosexual" you kinda sound like a corny old man

JOHN: what! why?

JOHN: no, that's a normal way of putting it!

JOHN: i mean... it's a pretty normal thing to say, right? when that's... how... you are?

KARKAT: SOMEBODY FUCKING KILL ME.

DAVE: what does normal mean though

DAVE: normal was some crap that ruled our dead civilization

DAVE: we left that behind years ago

DAVE: its all a huge pile of shit that doesnt matter anymore

JOHN: oh. kay?

JOHN: so then, you're saying...

JOHN: what are you saying?

DAVE: im not sure i guess

JOHN: ...

DAVE: ok i guess what im saying is

DAVE: i dont think its all as simple as you think it is

DAVE: or maybe not like ACTIVELY think it is but continue to assume it is on account of NOT thinkin about it much

DAVE: due to a lot of junk about the subject that gets shoved into our brains from movies and stuff while we were just dumb kids

JOHN: i,

JOHN: hm.

DAVE: im just saying it probably isnt as absolute or simplistic as the way youve been framing it

DAVE: or maybe it is for you personally i dont know

DAVE: im just guessing you havent spent much time thinking about it if only cause all the stuff we read and watch suggests that like even examining your honest thoughts about it is perilous road to go down

DAVE: cause if you actually think too much about it without always having that undercurrent of haha nope nope nope THEN what happens

DAVE: what if it turns out youre like...

JOHN: ...like?

DAVE: like not exactly the way you thought you were

DAVE: or maybe not so much that, as old presumptions about what you were turn out to be not that relevant?

KARKAT: (WHY. WHY ARE THESE WORDS HAPPENING TO OUR CONVERSATION.)

DAVE: i dunno man

DAVE: not sure what youve been doing the last 3 years all riding a large boat, then saving everyone from apocalyptic whatever

DAVE: but ive had a fuck ton of time on my hands to think about stuff

DAVE: about stuff ive said and done in the past why i said and did them

DAVE: a lot of things i once would have insisted were like part of my brand and helped me come across cool and smartassy

DAVE: but now im not so sure

DAVE: we used rip on each other all the time for being gay even though we knew we werent which of course is what made it "funny" remember

JOHN: yeah.

JOHN: i dunno, it was pretty funny, sometimes.

JOHN: it was just a lot of joking around!

DAVE: yeah i know

DAVE: it frankly IS funny to say how gay something is sometimes and lets face it sometimes someone or something is just flat out REALLY fucking gay and theres no two ways about it

DAVE: its more like that through the preponderance of all that jokey shit is an underlying implication that its all lame stuff for pansies but not like us no were not lame and ha ha thats the joke

DAVE: which thrives on this like double-buried implication that the REAL COOL SHIT is founded on this absurd wanky ideal about masculinity which if you think about it is 1. dumb as fuck 2. the male adulation of masculinity to that extent TO BE HONEST is pretty fucking gay unto itself and 3. was always some totally impossible shit for us to live up to anyway

DAVE: i think all thats mixed up with the same phony ideals about heroism

DAVE: like living up to the storybook idea of what a hero to me feels almost interchangeable with living up to societys snapshot of what a hard manly dude should be

DAVE: i stopped pretending i could ever live up to either thing a while ago

DAVE: and mainly have spent time looking back on the sheer magnitude of all my "joking around"

DAVE: i used to lambaste fuckers left and right grinding them into the pavement over how gay they probably were and how much they were quite possibly jonesin to kiss some dudes or such

DAVE: and i dont really feel bad about it in the sense that it was jerky or like "insensitive" necessarily even though i guess it maybe was

DAVE: more that i feel like it was probably transparent

DAVE: a massive front of outrageous snark to disguise a lot of insecurity

DAVE: like a fuckin coverup

DAVE: as long as i kept clowning hard about it i didnt actually have to think about it or face my actual beliefs

JOHN: dave, um.

JOHN: all that's cool and all, and...

JOHN: i think i mostly agree?

JOHN: but...

JOHN: ummmm, how do i put this.

JOHN: are you...

JOHN: are you gay now?

DAVE: what no

KARKAT: (THE WORDS. WHY WON'T THE WORDS STOP. DEAR GOD.)

JOHN: i dunno, it sounds to me like you're trying tell me something here!

DAVE: man no look

JOHN: i mean, it's ok if you're gay now!

JOHN: that's totally cool, if true.

JOHN: i just think...

JOHN: you turning gay would be kind of a weird consequence of me changing the time line around?

JOHN: ok, not "weird"...

JOHN: just, unexpected!

JOHN: i dunno what i did that would account for that.

JOHN: maybe saving one of terezi's plush toys did some goofy homosexual butterfly effect thing on you?

JOHN: jeez, who knows!

DAVE: dude you arent listening

DAVE: although a gay butterfly effect is a pretty funny idea lets not dismiss that as a concept altogether

DAVE: anyway maybe what im tryin to say is sorta getting lost in the weeds here

DAVE: the fact that you were wondering if i "turned gay" makes me think maybe youre still not quite on the wavelength im tryin to ramble on here

DAVE: maybe we should wrestle this topic to the ground another time, theres a lot more id wanna say but this is probably not the venue

DAVE: i mean not literally wrestle to the ground because that is maybe literally the gayest course of action we could possibly take but you know what i mean

KARKAT: (YES! LATER! TALK LATER, BECAUSE THEN THE WORDS WOULD STOP! OH WOULDN'T THAT BE LOVELY.)

JOHN: that's fine, we can talk about anything you want, any time.

JOHN: i'm just still confused about what you're getting at, is all.

JOHN: like, what is the bottom line here?

JOHN: are you actually attracted to boys now?

JOHN: do you...

JOHN: um.

JOHN: did you...

JOHN: like, date any boys?

DAVE: uh

JOHN: but there weren't even that many boys on the meteor?

JOHN: well, there's the clown guy, but i don't really see you and him...

JOHN: that really only leaves...

JOHN: um, were you and karkat...

JOHN: ARE you and karkat, like.

JOHN: hmm.

KARKAT: NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO.

KARKAT: I RETREAT TO MY SAFE PLACE, AND YET THE WORDS. THE STUPID FUCKING PRATTLE JOCKEYING LIKE ROWDY BARNBEASTS UP AGAINST THE PARTITIONS OF GOOD FUCKING SENSE AND THE MOST BASIC OF PERSONAL BOUNDARIES.

KARKAT: THE GOD DAMNED BLITHER OF TACTLESS NINCOMPOOPS, HOW IT CONTINUES TO HAUNT MY WRETCHED EARS. THE WORDS SPILL OVER THE SIDE OF THIS ENCHANTED METAL FROG DISCUS, LIKE A BABBLING SPRING IN A MYTHICAL FOREST GOVERNED BY A GUILD OF GOSSIP-HUNGRY LOBOTOMY HOBBITS. THIS DELUGE OF WORDS, LEAKED FROM THE INCONTINENT CREVICES OF TWO BRAINLESS GUSHING YAMMERTWATS, IT OVERFLOWETH, OH HOW IT OVERFLOWETH, SOGGING MY GRAY, PRACTICAL PAIR OF PANTS, THE LEGGINGS OF A SIMPLE MAN. A HUMBLE MAN. IT THEN CONTINUES ITS DOWNWARD TRICKLE, DOUSING MY UNREMARKABLE SHIRT, THE SERVICEABLE GARMENT OF YOUR AVERAGE ALTERNIAN "JOE", CHILLING THE FRAIL TORSO BENEATH, A PATHETIC DUFFEL OF MEAT WRACKED WITH HEAVY SOBS, SOBS CAUSED BY WORDS, WORDS WHICH CONTINUE TO DRIP. AND SLEUCE. AND SPILL. THREATENING TO DROWN ME. PLEDGING TO. PROMISING! AND YET I WILL NOT DROWN. WHY WON'T I DROWN? PLEASE LET ME DROWN. LET ME DROWN SO THE WORDS WILL BE NO MORE!

JOHN: dave, i'm pretty sure we're making karkat uncomfortable now.

DAVE: yeah maybe we should drop this

JOHN: ok.

DAVE: i dunno if you ever picked this up from him but hes a pretty sensitive guy

JOHN: what?? nooooo.

DAVE: its true

DAVE: hes pretty much the easiest dude to rip on and makes for an irresistible target but you also have to know where to draw the line

DAVE: really dont wanna actually you know like

DAVE: upset him

JOHN: yeah, me neither.

JOHN: um...

JOHN: what the fuck is he doing?

DAVE: man i dont know

DAVE: thats just his regular shit

DAVE: like, an every day occurrence but with different bodily positions and geographic configurations

JOHN: i see.

DAVE: bro will you get the fuck up here

KARKAT: NO!

DAVE: k suit yourself

DAVE: um anyway

DAVE: as you can see ive been spending probably way too much time with trolls

JOHN: ha ha.

DAVE: it messes with you

DAVE: gets you thinkin about... stuff

DAVE: you know?

JOHN: i can imagine.

JOHN: i think life was a lot more boring on the ship.

JOHN: but we talked about you all a lot!

JOHN: we would always wonder how you and rose were managing to get along with all those crazy trolls.

JOHN: i think mostly we pictured a lot of arguments.

DAVE: thats not too far off

JOHN: i'm still getting used to having such insane, limitless powers that let me go anywhere i want...

JOHN: it's tempting to go to time periods like yours and find out what i missed.

JOHN: but i don't want to mess with too much anymore, since it seems like i got the time line to a nice stable place as it is.

JOHN: so i guess i just have to do what any regular guy does, and imagine fondly what it would be like if i got to travel with you guys.

JOHN: i wonder if i would have gotten like... absorbed in troll culture too? or troll ways of thinking.

DAVE: its really inevitable

DAVE: you pick up the lingo they pick up yours

DAVE: its like a stupid cultural melange after a while that barely makes any sense from either frame of reference

JOHN: i wonder if i would have learned to understand black romance?

JOHN: it's such a goofy idea, but it seems pretty important to trolls.

DAVE: they take all their quadrants pretty seriously tbh

JOHN: yeah.

JOHN: years ago when we first met the trolls, i remember being pretty fascinated by all our cultural differences, when karkat and vriska were telling me about them.

JOHN: i remember really sincerely trying to understand it all from their point of view! it's hard though.

JOHN: i still think about the idea of black romance sometimes, and try to imagine how that really works... or "feels"... i don't know.

JOHN: do you understand it?

DAVE: yeah ive spent enough time talkin about it where i think i "get it" but

DAVE: ive never had cause or any real inclination to put it into practice or anything

JOHN: mainly the idea of hating somebody, and translating that into attraction, or some kind of romancey feeling... it feels so alien to me.

JOHN: and you're right, i have a really hard time even hating anyone in the first place!

DAVE: word

JOHN: i mean, i get ANNOYED by people, sure.

DAVE: like who

DAVE: me?

JOHN: no, not really.

JOHN: well, sometimes, but not much. i always tended to exaggerate my grievances with you, for the sake of laughs.

DAVE: heheh

JOHN: a better example is, more recently, when i was doing my retcon mission...

JOHN: i was getting REALLY annoyed with terezi and her mind games.

DAVE: yuuup

JOHN: it definitely never crossed the line to "hate" though, because we were working together to try and fix a dire situation, and even though she's weird and insane, she's otherwise a pretty good friend.

JOHN: but all her needling and japes at totally inappropriate times, when there was so much on the line...

JOHN: argh, it was SO FRUSTRATING.

KARKAT: EGBERT, I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU.

DAVE: whoa hes back!

DAVE: all right side up and everything

KARKAT: I HEARD YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT QUADRANTS, SO I DECIDED TO PAUSE MY TANTRUM.

KARKAT: JOHN, ALL YOU'RE DOING HERE IS DESCRIBING THE SUBTLE FEELINGS WHICH PLANT THE SEED FOR HAVING A CALIGINOUS CRUSH ON SOMEONE.

JOHN: what??

KARKAT: YOU HEARD ME.

KARKAT: YOU ARE NAIVELY ADMITTING TO STRUGGLING WITH SOME BLACK FEELINGS FOR TEREZI.

KARKAT: SO, THERE YOU GO. QUESTION ANSWERED.

KARKAT: TURNS OUT YOU ARE PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF BLACK ROMANCE.

JOHN: n... no!

KARKAT: A FAIR REBUTTAL. HOWEVER, CONSIDER THIS COUNTERPOINT:

KARKAT: Y... YES???

JOHN: but i don't HATE her, and i'm sure i never will!

JOHN: i'm just saying i find her, like, somewhat annoying, and REALLY aggravating a lot of the time, but that's it!

KARKAT: BUT THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT THE FEELING IS!

KARKAT: IT DOESN'T START OUT AS FULL BLOWN ANTIPATHY, AND IT RARELY EVEN REACHES SUCH AN EXTREME LEVEL OF HOSTILITY EVEN OVER LONG TERM BLACK RELATIONSHIPS.

KARKAT: THERE ARE PEAKS TO IT, BUT OTHERWISE A GENERAL EBB AND FLOW TO THE DARK FEELINGS, JUST LIKE WITH FLUSHED RELATIONSHIPS.

JOHN: ok, but...

JOHN: i don't know if i'm expressing myself clearly.

JOHN: i felt aggravated by her a lot, but that doesn't fully describe...

JOHN: like, there were those "negative" feelings, but also...

JOHN: but...

KARKAT: YEAH, THAT'S IT, RIGHT THERE!!!

KARKAT: THE "BUT" IS ALWAYS PART OF IT.

KARKAT: WHAT YOU'RE *TRYING* TO SAY IS, YOU HAD FRUSTRATED, NEGATIVE EMOTIONS TOWARD HER, BUT THEY DON'T COMPREHENSIVELY ACCOUNT FOR YOUR ATTITUDE TOWARD HER.

KARKAT: MEANING, THERE ARE SOME THINGS ABOUT HER YOU ACTUALLY LIKE, BUT THE NEGATIVE FEELINGS MAKE IT HARD FOR YOU TO PUT YOUR FINGER ON THEM, OR EVEN WANT TO ACKNOWLEDGE THEM.

KARKAT: THAT IS ABSOLUTELY STANDARD. WHAT GOOD WOULD IT BE HAVING A KISMESIS WHO DIDN'T POSSESS QUALITIES YOU ACTUALLY ADMIRED ON SOME LEVEL?

KARKAT: THAT WOULD BE BORING, AND IT WOULDN'T EVEN WORK. THERE'D BE NO TENSION, NO PUSH AND PULL IN THE TURBULENT EMOTIONAL LANDSCAPE. THE SUBTLE POSITIVES ADD FUEL TO THE NEGATIVE FEELINGS, OFTEN GIVING THEM A REASON TO EXIST AT ALL. THEY INFLAME THE AGGRAVATING FACTORS, REMINDING YOU DEEP DOWN HOW MUCH YOU WOULD LIKE AND ADMIRE THIS PERSON IF IT WASN'T FOR ALL THEIR INFURIATING FLAWS, AND THE INCREDIBLE SENSE OF FRUSTRATION THAT CAUSES ALONG WITH ALL THE ASSOCIATED HOT-HEADED FEELINGS, THAT'S THE ESSENCE OF BLACK ROMANCE.

KARKAT: AND THE POSITIVE QUALITIES YOU SEE DEEP DOWN IN A KISMESIS ALSO SERVE AS THE BASIS FOR RED FEELINGS TOWARD THAT PERSON, ASSUMING THE RELATIONSHIP EVER STARTS TO VACILLATE.

KARKAT: IT'S ALL PRETTY STRAIGHTFORWARD, REALLY.

JOHN: no... this is messed up!

DAVE: i dunno john it all sounds pretty logical to me

DAVE: karkat knows his shit when it comes to quadrants

JOHN: argh!

JOHN: it can't be true though...

JOHN: it feels so fucked up!

JOHN: what if you're right though... erg! no...

JOHN: no, no, no, no...

KARKAT: THAT'S PART OF IT TOO!

KARKAT: THE "NO NO NO" IS ALL PART OF THE FEELING. THAT'S HOW IT *ALWAYS* GOES.

KARKAT: THIS SENSE OF SELF INCRIMINATION WHEN IT'S DAWNING ON YOU THAT YOU HAVE THESE CONFLICTING FEELINGS TOWARD SOMEONE WHO BUGS YOU SO MUCH.

KARKAT: OH MY GOD, THIS WHOLE REACTION IS SO FUCKING TEXTBOOK. IT'S HILARIOUS, REALLY.

JOHN: it's fucked up though!!!

KARKAT: IT'S SUPPOSED TO FEEL FUCKED UP!

JOHN: aw, man. :(

JOHN: i just wanted to have a nice catch-up chat, not get so transparently owned at the trollmances.

DAVE: it happens to the best of us sooner or later

DAVE: this crap is kind of old hat to me by now but i get why youre kinda freckling at the implications here

DAVE: you didnt have years of livin with trolls to kinda normalize this stuff

JOHN: i don't think i want it to feel normalized though!

JOHN: i'm not ready to...

JOHN: like, admit that... i have some warped spade crush on her, based on...

JOHN: some feeling i don't understand and makes no sense to me!

JOHN: oh god... what if it's true??

JOHN: i have to try as hard as i can to suppress this feeling and make sure i never think about it again!

DAVE: ok sounds like a weenie thing to do but sure have fun with that

JOHN: fuck.

JOHN: yeah, probably.

JOHN: just...

JOHN: please don't tell her about any of this, ok guys?

KARKAT: JOHN, YOU DON'T HAVE TO REMIND US ABOUT ONE OF THE MOST FUNDAMENTAL STATUTES OF THE BRO CODE, WHICH IS PRACTICALLY FUCKING SCRIPTURE ON MY PLANET, DATING BACK HUNDREDS OF MILLENIA.

KARKAT: DAVE AND I FUCKING SLEEP AND BREATHE THE BRO CODE AND ALL OF ITS CLAUSES, NO MATTER HOW FINE THE PRINT.

KARKAT: FEEL FREE TO COME AND TALK TO US ABOUT THIS ANY TIME. YOUR SECRETS WILL ALWAYS BE SAFE.

DAVE: dude that sentiment is well and good but

DAVE: when youre pledging a vow of secrecy maybe you should try to keep it down a little

KARKAT: DAMN. YEAH.

KARKAT: SORRY.

JOHN: this is really confusing though.

JOHN: assuming you're right, and i am "busted" on having those feelings... and i'm not even saying you aren't.

JOHN: but...

JOHN: i thought humans weren't supposed to be able to feel stuff like that?

KARKAT: LIKE WHAT EXACTLY?

JOHN: like, perceive and feel romantic stuff, in the same way trolls do.

JOHN: because we're aliens to each other!

JOHN: well ok, humans can feel the gay stuff pretty often, i guess.

JOHN: i didn't think we could feel the spade stuff, though.

JOHN: i dunno, i just thought it was some screwy biological difference?

DAVE: nah i disagree

DAVE: both humans and trolls are emotionally versatile sentient beings that can feel many hells of different things

JOHN: you're probably right.

JOHN: you would know better than me, at least.

DAVE: thats always a smart fallback position btw

DAVE: especially on rap

DAVE: i could school you on rap too are you confused about rap

JOHN: no dave, i think i'm pretty squared away on rap.

JOHN: at least for now. :p

DAVE: so uh

DAVE: this has been a hell of a reminiscence so far

JOHN: yeah...

DAVE: seriously though i wasnt actually intending to fork this like instantaneously in the direction of some like

DAVE: legitimately sincere dialogue on fuckin sexuality and romance

DAVE: i didnt plan on this dude you gotta believe me

JOHN: i believe you!

JOHN: it's been cool though.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: did we cover everything

JOHN: um...

JOHN: probably not?

JOHN: oh, right.

JOHN: you dated jade for a while, so there's that.

DAVE: whoa what

JOHN: i mean, dave sprite did.

DAVE: oh

JOHN: and of course i mean, the one from my time, obviously not the one from this time, who died i guess before that happened.

DAVE: right

JOHN: man, that still just seems... so sad.

JOHN: i guess even when you fix things, not everything can be perfect.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: so

DAVE: howd that go

DAVE: me and jade

DAVE: or...

DAVE: him and jade

JOHN: ok, i guess.

JOHN: my sense was, it was kind of dramatic overall.

JOHN: i'm not sure it was the best relationship, probably because of dave sprite's uh...

JOHN: "unique issues".

DAVE: hmm

JOHN: but there were a lot of fun memories.

JOHN: i'll tell you about them some time. maybe when jade is awake, because i'm sure she'd want to know too!

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: hey

DAVE: um

JOHN: ?

DAVE: the girl you came with

DAVE: roses mom

JOHN: roxy?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: whats she like

JOHN: she's nice!!!

JOHN: really nice.

JOHN: she is fun and easy to talk to...

JOHN: it almost feels like she has always been one of our friends, you know?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: how uh

DAVE: how long have you and she actually been traveling together

JOHN: umm...

JOHN: not too long.

JOHN: we only met like a day ago, i mean, from my perspective.

DAVE: huh

JOHN: she's been through some really difficult stuff recently.

JOHN: well, we both have, actually.

JOHN: but i feel like it was all... a bit more personal for her?

JOHN: being on her adventure, then suddenly losing all her friends, and watching rose die right there, while she'd been kinda viewing rose as a version of her mom...

JOHN: i was just some goofball drifting randomly here and there between realities, so i was mostly just confused by everything.

JOHN: but for her, i could tell it was all really devastating.

JOHN: i'm so happy she gets to be with rose again!!!!!!!!!!

JOHN: not to mention all her other friends!

JOHN: for some reason i feel happier for her getting to reunite with people she lost than i do for myself.

DAVE: it sounds like you like her

JOHN: i do!

DAVE: no i mean

DAVE: actually like her

JOHN: oh.

JOHN: ... uh, hm.

JOHN: i don't know.

JOHN: maybe.

DAVE: wow dude after one day maybe you should slow your roll

JOHN: i didn't say i did though!!!

DAVE: im joking its fine who cares

JOHN: oh, ok.

DAVE: shes my mom isnt she

JOHN: man.

JOHN: i'm not sure if we should keep thinking about all our relations that way.

DAVE: why

JOHN: it's kinda weird!

DAVE: is it

JOHN: ...

DAVE: do you feel weird about dating my mom is that it

JOHN: i'm not dating her though!

DAVE: but if you did

DAVE: then you wouldnt wanna think of her like that because of like the familial weirdtimes it invokes

JOHN: jeez.

JOHN: i don't know. i...

JOHN: i don't know if i'm ready for every single "deep" conversation we can squeeze into this wacky rapid fire session of fun pal-talk!

DAVE: ok

DAVE: but

DAVE: i think i like thinking of her as my mom

DAVE: even if its a lil weird

JOHN: you do?

JOHN: why?

DAVE: not sure

DAVE: i never even stopped and thought about it before

DAVE: the idea of what it would be like to have a mom

DAVE: instead of a hyper-aggressive lunatic of an adult male guardian

DAVE: i never let myself give it a second of consideration

DAVE: but now

DAVE: seeing her actually here even though shes just some teen girl i never met

DAVE: i like the idea

DAVE: its nice

JOHN: ...

JOHN: ok, that's actually kind of cute.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: yeah i guess it kind of fucking is

JOHN: alright, well.

JOHN: no matter what happens, it's ok with me if you want to think of her that way. :)

DAVE: sweet

[liaarchived]

Hi fellow Taurus bestie…I’m a long time reader and first time anon 🙈 so I got this idea and I had to share incase you wanna write about it 👀 anyways…I was listening to Slow Down by Chase Atlantic and this time the lyric “she said fuck me like I’m famous, I said oh-kay” stuck out to me and I was like wait a min 🤔✋🏼 what if there was a fic where the guy (I thought of Bakugo/Kuroo/Iwaizumi 🙈🙈🙈) was a singer and the reader is his crush/new gf…?? Anyways!! They’re getting ‘into it’ after a show/concert and she’s like… “if you can fuck as good as you sing, show me.” And he’s like bet and he wrecks her, breaks her back and all that

Anyways lemme know whatcha think bestie…🙈 I was kinda nervous to send this but I was like fuck it lemme do it before I forget and yeah…

A/N: Taurus Bestie🥺 You’re brain is immaculate please. Don’t ever hesitate to send me asks! I love interacting with y’all, I’m just not very good at initiating :(( I love this idea so much and I really thought it fit Iwaizumi well so I hope you enjoy!

Prompt: “If you can fuck as good as you can sing, show me.”

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Iwaizumi x fem!reader

Warnings: spit, oral (reader receiving), daddy kink, impact play, degradation, praising, swearing, hair pulling, choking, creampie, breeding if you squint, heavily unedited bc I hate editing my own smut😔✊🏼

Word count: 2.43k

You and Iwaizumi had been friends since high school, but even so, you had never been to one of his band’s shows before. Sure you had heard him sing many times and you knew he was talented, but this experience, getting to watch him from a VIP box while hundreds of thousands of people were cheering for him and singing along to his music? It was absolutely surreal. You admired how Iwaizumi seemed to belong on that stage.

However, the scene of Iwaizumi singing his heart out was doing things to you. Tonight was the last show of his tour, after that he was planning to go on hiatus for a few months before going back to the studio with his band. This was it. You had backstage privileges, courtesy of the singer himself, and you planned on making your move tonight. When Iwa left for his tour at the beginning of the year you were faced with some surprising feelings.

You realized you missed him more than just a friend should…

The set ended and the crowd was still going wild. You make your way backstage as the band plays a final encore song. When Iwaizumi emerges from the stage, sweat gleaming off of his ink littered muscles you practically salvate at the image. The lead singer immediately sets his eyes on you and makes a beeline towards you.

Iwaizumi doesn’t give you a chance to say anything. It had been over a year since he had last seen you in person and his adrenaline was running high. It was now or never. So he scooped you into his arms and crashed his lips to yours. As soon as the shock passes, you reciprocate his extremely passionate kiss.

Iwaizumi hums in approval at your quick submission and bites your lower lip before pulling away, letting a string of saliva form keep the two of you connected before it snaps.

“Shit, Yn. You know how long I’ve wanted to do that. I missed you so much it was maddening.” He lays his sweaty forehead on yours, pupils blown wide with adrenaline and lust.

You giggle at his declaration. “Missed you too, Haji. Where are you staying?”

A deep chuckle escapes his swollen lips. “At a hotel, Princess. Why?”

“Want you to show me if you can fuck me as good as you can sing.” You grin devilishly and Iwa returns the expression.

The musician opens his mouth to say something but is cut off by one of his band members who has already been eyeing you. “Hey, Iwa! Ya coming to the after party or what?”

Iwaizumi slings his arm over you. “Nah, man. Go on ahead without me. I got a different party to attend.”

The band member chuckles and shakes his head before waving and taking his exit.

You two lead by example and take your own exit.

The second the two of you make it to Iwa’s room, he has you pressed against the wall with his lips attached to yours. His tongue has already made it past your lips, exploring the cavern of your mouth, occasionally dancing with yours. You moan into his mouth, and as much as you don’t want to, you have to pull away for air.

Iwaizumi takes this opportunity to trail kisses along your jaw and down your neck. His hands, which were previously holding onto your hips in a bruising grip, move up your torso under your shirt. He makes a delighted chuckle when he notices that you're not wearing a bra.

“Hmm not wearing anything underneath your shirt to my show? Is that why your tits looked absolutely delectable bouncing around while you danced during the concert, huh?”

You whine as his hands grope at your chest and tweak your nipples. “Hah-fuck- wanted you to have something to look at, Haji-“

Iwaizumi cuts you off with a low growl and a particularly pleasing pinch of the nipples. “No. I’m not Haji right now, Princess. Say it.”

You let out a moan at the singer’s insinuation. “Wanted you t-to have something to look at, Daddy.”

“Mmm well you certainly didn’t disappoint, Princess. Had a hard time keeping my eyes off of you.” Iwa chuckles while he lowers himself down to his knees. “Between how cute your ass looks in this short little skirt of yours and your tits I almost lost my damn mind. Messed up a few lyrics thanks to you, Princess.”

You whimper as the singer nips and sucks on your inner thighs. “Fuck- Daddy… Wanted your attention. Didn’t mean to distract you.”

Iwaizumi’s lips are everywhere but where you need him most. He continues to kiss your thighs and lick them and give the occasional bite and suck combo. Your hands find their way to his sweat damp hair and tug, earning a groan and particularly harsh bite from the man below you. You whimper at the singer’s rough ministrations. Your head is thrown back on the wall behind you as Iwaizumi inches closer to where you want him.

“Daddy, please~” You tug on his hair eliciting another groan.

Iwa looks up at you in amusement. “Hmm what do you want, Princess? Gotta use your words, Pretty Baby.”

You huff in frustration but indulge him anyway. “Need your mouth and tongue, please~”

A chuckle can be heard but you’re no longer looking at Iwaizumi. “I’m giving you my mouth and tongue aren’t I. Princess? Is it that you need them somewhere specifically?” Iwa kisses your lower pelvis, just above your clothed clit.

“I- hah- Fuck, Daddy need your mouth and tongue and fingers in my pussy and on my clit. Please, please, please~ Need you s’ ba- ngh~”

Iwa cuts you off by the sting of him ripping your panties apart and diving his tongue into your drooling cunt. The slurping noises he’s making are obscene but you don’t have time to be embarrassed because at that very moment the singer replaced his tongue with two fingers and reattached his mouth to your clit. You moan and tug harshly on his hair, Iwa lets out his own moan that reverberates throughout your entire being.

“Mmh- Fuck~ feels so good, Daddy. S’ much better than my own fingers- Oh my- fu- fuck right there please keep touching me right there, Daddy…”

You're lost in your own pleasure and you don’t even notice the way Iwaizumi is watching you. His eyes gleaming with pride and lust at the thought of you feeling so good because of him. He can feel himself growing uncomfortably hard but ignores the nagging heat pooling in his lower abdomen. His focus solely on making you cum at least once before he lets himself fuck you senseless.

Judging from your increasingly desperate pleas, you were close to giving Iwa what he wanted. Your fists in the man’s hair are clenched so fiercely that your knuckles have turned a lighter shade than the rest of your skin. Your breathing has increased in both speed and volume, moans and whimpers constantly spilling from your lips, keeping you from forming any coherent sentences.

Iwa chuckles and you nearly screech at the sensation that shoots through your body from his amusement. “You gonna cum, Princess? You sound so damn desperate. Sounds like you’re gonna cum all over my mouth, hm?”

It takes everything you have to respond, knowing if you don’t it may not end well for you. “Hah— F-fuck— mmmm gon’ cum— wan’ cum— Daddy~”

“Do it, Princess. I want to drink up all that you got.” Iwa starts curling his fingers inside of you and that’s what does you in. Your back arches and you nearly scream from the sudden burst of white hot pleasure. Iwa doesn’t slow down his ministrations either. His fingers curling incessantly and tongue lapping up everything you have to offer him. Your mind becomes fuzzy and you don’t even register Hajime picking you up and tossing you onto the king sized bed.

In your dazed state you hardly recognize that Iwaizumi is speaking to you until his hand is cradling your cheek. “Hey. Princess. You with me? I need you to tell me you’re good before I move further, okay?”

“Daddy… ‘m good, want you to fuck me now, please~” You sigh at the thought of Iwa filling you up and begin to grow impatient.

Hajime chuckles. “That’s my pretty baby. Can you strip and get on your hands and knees for me, Princess?”

You nod and quickly remove your remaining clothing. You make a show of turning around and arching your back just to wiggle your ass up at Iwaizumi. A low groan can be heard as a result of you teasing the man behind you. Then suddenly your body is jolted forward as you mewl at the impact of Hajime’s palm connecting roughly with your ass.

“Such a fuckin’ tease, Princess. Havin’ your tits out on display, wearin’ that cute lil’ skirt, and now shakin’ your plump ass at me. Hmm,” Iwa caresses the cheek he had just previously assaulted. “ I would punish you if I didn’t wanna stuff this pretty lil’ cunny of yours with my fat cock. Maybe next time, hm? Bet you would like that wouldn’t you, Princess?”

You take in a shuddering breath before responding desperately. “N-no not doin’ it on purpose, daddy. Promise~ Wanna be your good girl please~”

“I think you’re body is betrayin’ you, Princess, the way you just gushed from a single smack to the ass tells me otherwise. I think you like being a naughty little cockslut, hmm, like being punished. But I guess for now we can pretend you’re my good girl, hm?” With that Iwa rubs the tip of his cock up and down through your folds lamenting his previous words of stating just how wet you were for the musician. “You ready for me, Princess?”

Instead of answering you push back into Iwa’s touch and sink the tip of Iwa’s length into your dripping entrance with ease. Large fingers dig into your plush ass to stop you from going further and lull a whimper to pass through your lips. Iwa leans down and growls into your ear. “Such a fuckin’ impatient and bratty little slut, hm? Couldn’t wait for me to put it in. Had to take it upon yourself?”

As Iwa growls into your ear about how much of a brat you are as he’s sinking himself deeper into your pussy. Your eyes roll back into your head. His sheer size alone brings you close to your second orgasm. You can hear breathy curses fall from Iwa’s lips. His fingers dig deeper into your ass as you dig into the pillow you’re whimpering into.

“F-fuck, Princess, you’re so fucking tight. This pretty little cunny is already squeezing me so tight. You that close, pretty baby? Just from me putting my cock in you, fuck that’s so fuckin’ cute.” Hajime releases one of his grips on your cheeks to tangle his fingers in your hair and experiments with a gentle tug. He’s more than pleased with your reaction as your back arches further and multiple whimpers stumble out of you.

The coil that’s been building in your stomach is snapped by Iwaizumi bottoming out with his tip prodding your cervix. You wail and violently clench around the musician as your vision blurs. You’re babbling nonsense while Iwaizumi throws his head back.

“Oh fuck, Princess. You really came from me just bottoming out. Fuck, your such a desperate little cockslut. Feel so good, sucking me in like this-- shit think you got one more in ya my pretty little cockslut?”

You whimper and plead. “D-daddy, please~ Want you to move-- need you to fuck me so good~ Please~”

Iwa amusedly chuckles at your babbling but grants your wish anyway. His hips draw back slowly, allowing you to feel every single throbbing vein on his dick and once he’s pulled out to just the tip he lands a harsh smack to your ass and snaps his hips into you. His rough pace doesn’t let up after that. He’s ramming into you as you cover your screams with the pillows underneath you. Iwa clearly has other ideas, though, as he tugs on your hair to pull you off the slobber stained pillow.

“Shit-- Wanna hear those pretty screams, Princess. Let everyone know that ‘m making you feel good okay?” After no reply Hajime tugs on your hair again,

“Y-yes daddy! You’re making me feel so f-fuckin’ goo’! Gonna make me cum ‘gain- mmmm fuck~” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Iwa brings you up to his chest and changes the angle.

He’s reaching further into you and if it weren’t for his arms securely holding you-- one wrapped around your waist, the other crossed your chest and his hand gripping your neck-- You probably would be thrashing in pleasure. Iwa leans down to place his mouth right next to your ear and growls.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck pretty baby. ‘M so fuckin’ close. You gonna cum with me, Princess? Gonna cream all over me while I fill you up with my cum? Bet you'd like that hm? Your slutty little cunt filled to the brim with my cum?” Iwa moves his hold around your waist to play with your clit.

Your head falls back onto his shoulder and let out a silent scream. “Shi- oh my- Fuck, daddy, gon’ cum, want you to cum with me. Cum in me, please! Fuck! Daddy ‘m cumming- shit~ “

You’re seeing stars and screaming incoherently as you vaguely register Iwa’s grunts and sloppy thrusts. His hot seed spurting into you as he rides out both your orgasms. Your vision comes back to you and you feel yourself slump into the musician's hold. You hum contentedly as you feel Iwa begin to soften inside of you.

He peppers you with kisses and nuzzles himself into your neck, causing you to giggle. “Fuck, Princess. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hold ya like this.”

“Hmm what a couple of idiots huh?” Iwa looks up at you and chuckles.

“I guess so,” you squeal as Iwa flips the two of you so you’re on your back with him hovering you, expertly keeping himself inside of you, “we’ve got some catching up to do now don’t we, Princess?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “W-what do you mean? We’re not done?”

Iwa chuckles as he slowly begins to pump himself into you. You whine from sensitivity. “Princess, we’re just getting started.”

Hq!! Permanent Taglist: @katsulovee

[pinkmirth]

—𝐌𝗼𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝗼𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 [𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞]

《𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝗼𝗺𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝗼𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 + 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝》

Boxes splayed across the bare, sheen hardwood of your newly owned apartment, some contents of them being haphazardly tossed out onto the floor, courtesy of Katsuki. Speaking of, the eager ash blonde had been taking this whole unpacking thing with a ravaging approach, a little more aggression than enthusiasm being displayed. This disregarding husband of yours had already broken two vases since the moving van hauled in your belongings..

You caught wind of his incoherent murmurs throughout the day, which were practically countless by now. You’d been racking your brain since, attempting to discover what had gotten your poor Katsuki so upset. Despite the marriage that bonded you and him, Katsuki’s profession usually got in the way of many personal things. For a while, it’d been a danger just for the pair of you to live together, so you haven’t been. Until now. It had been three days since you and him moved from the comfort of your hometown, Musutafu, to the renowned capital, Tokyo, and you wished you could say it had been smooth sailing. Unfortunately, a certain Bakugou wasn’t having the best time, always sputtering a profanity or a groan left and right. His case of the grumps was probably a trip of his complex emotions, either caused by a sense of neediness, deprivation of some sort, or bottled rage. You were betting, practically hoping on the first two instead. Knowing your husband, it meant well that he’d get his hands on miscellaneous household items to crush, smash and break, as some way of channeling his anger episodes. Three days down the line, and you already needed to replace a handful.. Though, it was currently dinner time, and you were sure that was a good thing. Katsuki’s little funk would wash away come 6pm. Cooking had a way of melting away the male’s heaps of stress, especially when you offered to join in. Throughout that hour of making food and serving you his prideful dishes, he always carried a subtle smile. Dinner wasn’t something to worry about. “Fuckin’ hell!” Scratch that. Telling by the pestering clatter of the cabinets he was yanking open, to the dastardly echo of his stomps, it seemed that you couldn’t rely on the succor of food for any longer. “I oughta’ set this lousy kitchen on fucking fire!” You let out a hefty sigh, picking yourself up from the spacious beanbag, since you were yet to assemble any couches, before strolling over to the kitchen, awaiting to see the reason behind your husband’s exaggerated shrieking. “Katsu-Chan, what's the issue..?” Your husband immediately bombarded you with a growled rant, “I can’t find my shitty apron!” You eyed Katsuki through furrowed brows. Is all this attitude really about one measly apron? Nah, I doubt it, your inner voice chimed. “And there ain’t any more pepper seasoning, so I haven’t got a clue what I’ll cook now..” he spewed through gritted teeth, recklessly tossing away the poor frying pan that he’d been holding onto all the while, impressive dents imprinted onto the handle, curved into the shape of his fingers. In that case, you had one more household item to replace. Noted.. “I can’t find that damned thing,” he spoke with an exasperated huff, his hands flying up to the cupboards, motioning them open and closed with the slightest violent tendency. “Hate to break it to you, sweet cheeks, but we ain’t eating dinner tonight,” you scoffed over Katsuki’s recurring dramatics, “These past few days have been shitty anyway..” He’d said it throughout a lowly mutter, but it was enough to cause a nervous stream to rush through you. Did he not like it here? Perhaps the city was too busy for Dynamight, maybe he wasn’t immune to getting homesickness as he liked to brag about, or it couldve been that he just wasn’t ready to get used to such a foreign occurrence in your relationship— living together. But, of course, considering your nature to bat things off with a joke of some sort, you contorted your worries into a comical stick to jab at your husband with.

“Darling, if you’re on your man-period, you should’ve just said so..” you’d said it with fabricated pity, all the while holding back your chuckles as his brows began to furrow, upper lip curving vexingly.

“You think you’re so damn funny, dontcha’, woman..?”

“Yeah, just a little bit.”

Another rasped groan left the lips of the ever-impatient Bakugou Katsuki, “Oi. Are ya’ just gonna keep giggling on about my little anger episode forever?”

Hm. For once, he actually acknowledged it for what it is, you thought briefly, before making your way around the glossy, marble-design kitchen island, your hands finding solace on his defined, muscular triceps. 

The thick straps of his black, square neck tank top gradually began to slide past his shoulders, shadowing over his collarbone before you inched it back up.

“Do you.. like it here, Katsuki?” By the moment he answered your answer with an aggressive snort, you realized you had nothing to worry about.

 “Why the hell wouldn't I? We didn’t pay for this house just to hate the place,” he scoffed, his large palms skimming over the small of your back before thick fingers of his wrapped around your waist.

“That’s a relief, but you’ve been acting a little grumpy— Like something’s bothering you. Could you just tell me how you’re feeling?” You finally admitted your questioning thoughts with an expectant look, watching Katsuki return your curiosity with a subtle smirk. “You wanna know what’s bothering me..?” 

“Y’know what, never mind. Don’t wanna hear it, Katsu-Chan.”

Your abrupt response had him knitting his brows and emitting confused huffs. “So you’re just gonna change your mind on me like that?!” You jabbed at his chest with your pointer finger to punctuate your reply, “because you made it sound creepy, that’s why!”

Katsuki then tightened his grip around your waist, earning a breathy gasp out of you. Before you could question the blonde, he already had you hauled up into the kitchen island, standing between your dangling legs with the tip of his nose grazing yours. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh at the comforting warmth of his sizey hands, your arms instinctively flinging around the back of his neck.

“Alright, I’ll tell you the truth, hon,” confessed Katsuki, “The move has been great, but horrible. It all went good, I guess. No missing items, moving trucks arriving in record time, everything we wanted. But there’s one more thing that we wanted that you seemed to forget about, you lil’ idiot..”

Despite the use of an insult, his cheeks and ears began the bloom a subtle but pretty pink, his sharp red eyes averting from your own blinking ones.

“Care to inform me on whatever I forgot..?” You skimmed through my your memory frantically in those few seconds that he’d paused, trying to dig up a pleasing answer before he told you himself.

“Privacy, [Y/N].. We’d have so much, too much once we moved to our own place. And we loved the sound of that. Y‘know why, right..?”

Your heart suddenly leapt within your chest at his indication, his left brow rising suggestively as he briefly cocked his head. You definitely knew why.

“So we could have times like this. Without any damned interruptions. I can suck your face off without one of my shitty friends popping up unexpectedly, ain’t that swell?” His voice held the slightest bit of laughter in it, his tone comical and yearning.

“So.. if I said that I wanna feel you close to me..” you murmured, your breath fanning over his proximate lips, “Like, really really close, it wouldn’t be a problem, yes?” A teasing, lingering peck was what you placed across his cheek, earning a genuine grin from Katsuki as a response.

“Who the hell’s gonna stop you? In fact, I’ve got my own idea,” his lowly voice came out booming nonetheless, but of course, the benefit of privacy made sure that his volume wasn’t a problem.

“I wanna watch you. While you watch me.” He didn’t have to be lewdly exact with his words, the lust-blown gaze in your husband’s vermillion eyes was enough to tell what he wanted. It was simple enough as he’d said; Mutual masturbation, just a few minutes before dinner time would commence.

Albeit the serene atmosphere, you couldn’t hold back your snicker over your realization. Bakugou Katsuki, your impatient lover. The poor guy had been in such a distasteful mood, only because of his unnerving libido..

“You wanna watch me take off my panties, huh?” Your teasing statement came out as a suggestive giggle, your hand placed sturdily at the nape of his neck while the unoccupied one got to work on making his fantasies a reality, tugging at the hem of your leggings hastily.

“You’ve gotta watch me too, y’know,” Katsuki reminded you with a gravelly chuckle, shimmying and pulling his bottoms off as though there were no time to spare.

His half naked form had attracted you in an instant, eyes drawing to his thick cock, semi-hard and already being encased into his moving palm.

“Don't just stare. It works both ways, sweet cheeks. I wanna see some fingers moving’ already,” Puffs of breath were taken between his words, ruby red eyes already lidded with an agape mouth that poured out the most arousing groans.

“Nah, I think I’ll just enjoy the show for now,” you decided matter-of-factly, pressing a sloppy kiss along his defined jawline, causing him to emit another grunt, lowly slapping sounds being heard from his vulgar ministrations.

“You think you’re cute, huh..” hissed Bakugou, trudging his clothes back on with a grunt, to your dismay. “Forget it. Instead of putting on a show for a brat like you, I’m gonna go straight to dinner.”

You accepted the fate that your actions resulted in, ready to slide off the island, just before his stern hands stopped you. He gave you this glance, one that made you eye him in suspicion as he kept his hands on each of your thighs, spreading them apart with a lax grin.

“Katsu— Ah!” By now, the blonde had already dropped to his knees, now face level with your clothed heat. “W-what about dinner..?!”

“Whaddya’ mean?” His tone came out rasped and attractive, a growing smirk reaching his lips as his fingers prodded at the band of your bottoms, “This is my dinner, babe..”

[binniesthighs]

♡nsfw alphabet w minho♡

I tried my best to make a list of my own, but I borrowed a few terms from this lovely template! 

requested by a cutie anon! 

Aftercare: (what they are like after sex) ok, so I see minho as someone who would be super caring after you’ve both properly come down and would want you to feel as comfortable as you can be--he doesn’t want you do have to do much. I am a big believer in minho drawing you a bath to help you relax and get cozy after: he’d hold you in his arms too while giving you a little massage. 

Bdsm: (are they into it? how “hard” do they like to go?) yes. the answer to this is yes. I feel like minho is one who really really gets off to the feeling of being the one in control, and knowing that you’re under his control. hearing your little whimpers, or seeing the way that you toss around when he’s using toys or has you bonded turns him on like no other. along this line, I feel like he’d also gladly tease you relentlessly until you’ve got tears in your eyes. he’ll only give you what you want if you ask him nicely 

Cum: (anything to do with cum) sooo minho loves cuming on you. he loves it a ton. for him, its the perfect picture when you’re gasping underneath him, just off your own orgasm, hands bound or clawing to the bed when he’ll cum on your chest, or your back, mayyybe even your face if you’re comfortable. oh! if you’ll cum on him...he doesn’t mind that either.

Degredation: (do they like using names on you, or for them?) as we have seen above, I feel like he would be into using degrading names, or having you say them back to him, for example: “you’re such a whore for my dick, tell me that you’re a whore for me.” etc. Of course, he never means what he says, he just knows that it amps things up for the both of you. 

Experience: (how experienced are they?) minho is fairly experienced, and also knows well what he likes and knows how to ask you what you like as well. minho isn’t scared to give you instructions or guide you in how you pleasure him as well--he would ask you to do the same!

Favorite (pet names): well, i think that there is a general consensus that minho likes kitten and kitty--it just makes sense lol. Otherwise, the softer ones would be my love, sweetheart, hun, doll, baby girl/boy etc.

Gagging: (size kink perhaps?) I think yes on this one. minho is alll about the power that he has over you, so seeing you gag would boost his confidence. knowing that you have to work a little harder to take him in reassures him that you’re his and that you only bend to him. at the same time, he would never push you to do something that made you uncomfortable and would ask you if you wanted to use safe words/ symbols. 

Hair: (how well groomed are they?) this is kind of funny because I think that minho would actually really care about this. mostly from a functionality standpoint, but also when he’s trimmed he feels more confident and like he’s got everything together and organized for when he’s with you. 

Intimacy: (the romantic aspect) so minho has 2 modes, and they vary depending on his mood or yours. mode 1 is where he’s doming the hell out of you and he gets to do what ever he likes, making you cum over and over again, teasing you for as long as you can take it and doesn’t show much mercy. on the other hand, when the vibe is different, holy hell he can give you the softest, most intimate sex that you can ever experience. i’m picturing super slow and deep thrusts into you, kissing you just as slowly in between while he tangles up his hands in your hair u g h i love thinking about this 

Jack off: (all about masturbation) I see Minho as one who would jack off really lazily, much later at night when there isn’t too much else to do; it isn’t something he prioritizes often unless there’s something that crosses his mind that really turns him on, he’ll even risk doing it somewhere semi-public if it means he gets to roll the image over and over in his mind, especially of you. Oh, and he loves jacking off in the shower when its steamy and warm, I don’t make the rules!! 

Kink(s): Minho loves having you all dressed up for him, I’m talking lace, velvet, anything strappy, harnesses, collars, chokers, thigh garters, maybe some kitten ears, mostly he just loves watching you and this is like icing on the cake. I see him having a hand kink as well?? When he’s worshiping your body, he watches his hands trace you all over, he loves it when you suck on his fingers, or when he rubs his thumb over tongue. Also, breath play, edge play and voyeurism!  

Location: anywhere. and I mean it. the more risky it is, the more exciting it is for him. bathrooms, locker rooms, dressing rooms, kitchen, living room couch, dining table, shower, bathtub, hotel rooms, the place doesn’t matter, it’s you that does. he would never miss an opportunity to be intimate with you whether its more slow and passionate or sweaty, rushed and needy. 

Multiple (partners): i think that this is something that minho would be open to! but not at first. minho is someone who can be very possessive at times, so sharing you with others when the realtionship is new makes him a little nervous--bc he wants you to be all his! after a while though, the idea of sharing you with someone and watching you get wrecked under them...he wouldn’t oppose. 

No: (something they won’t do, turn offs) while he won’t say no, daddy kinks aren’t his favorite, it’s simply something that doesn’t turn him on; he prefers to be the one calling you names hehe. he’s mostly an open minded person, just because he gets off on helping you get off. 

Oral: loves loves giving oral to his partner, it’s one of his favorite ways to begin foreplay, he’s exceptionally skilled as well, and knows perfectly how to use his mouth to tease. gives one hell of a blowjob, and knows how to make you cum over and over just from his tongue on your clit. he won’t ask you to blow him, but rather tease you until you’re begging to do it for him. 

Pace: super slow or super fuckin’ fast. there is no in-between and that’s that on that! if you ask me, as much as he revels in pounding you into the bed, it’s the slower and more sensual moments that linger on his mind longer. 

Quickies: i think this goes without saying, but minho never passes up the opportunity to take you right then and now. funnily enough, if you’re at work/school and send him a message about how you might be feeling a little horny, this man will drive all the way to you just to help you out. lil anecdote: his favorite thing to do is fuck you bent over a bathroom sink, battling the time before someone notices you’re away. he loves watching your fucked out face in the tinted green bathroom mirror. 

Ropes: (tying you up au) i added this to the list mostly for fun, but also I’ve got this idea of minho loosing his mind over having you tied up or restrained. ropes, ribbons, velvet, bow ties, handcuffs and much more. there’s nothing more that he likes than seeing you all helpless and not able to do anything about it. he thinks you looks so pretty tied up especially if it’s ribbons of pretty colors that look beautiful on your skin. 

Stamina: bucket loads. I’ve definitely seen something somewhere talking about how minho’s got a dancers stamina and I can’t agree more. minho’s got the stamina to draw out his thrusts for hours or give it to you as quickly and as roughly as he possibly can, granted he’ll be a sweating mess by the time that he’s done, but he sees that as sign that he did his job very well. 

Toys: in my oponion, yes and no. lolll I say this for the reason of minho’s ego getting in his own way. he feels fuckin’ amazing knowing that he can make you cum as hard as you do only from his body and would much rather use the tools at his disposal rather than toys...but...seeing what toys can do to you and how he can use them to his advantage is soemthing he won’t pass up. His personal favorites are all kinds of vibrators, cock rings, hmmm and occasionally nipple clamps

Unfair: (tw: dubcon) (how much that they like to tease) oh my, very much so. fuck, it’s probably his favorite thing to do to you! I’ve said before on this account that minho is into teasing even when it isn’t “that time” meaning he’ll brush up against you in public with his hand or grind himself into you when you’re sitting in his lap. his hand will creep up your thighs slightly when the two of you are in the car together to make you squirm a little bit. and of course, he’ll tease you for real when he’s got you all to himself, and would do it for hours if you let him. 

Volume: frick i love thinking about this!!!! i see minho as being someone more on the quiet side: shaky exhales, choked little breaths, the occasional soft “mmm” or “ahh.” if he’s really loosing himself in it however, looking down at you with tears in your eyes, or drool slipping down your neck from blowing him, he’ll let out some of the most unapologetically erotic moans on his pink lips

Wild card: (you pick!) i would like to use this place to talk about how much a bratty sub makes him go frickin’ feral. There is something about the way that you bite back at each of his demands, it only makes him want to dig into you even harder. you’d say to him as he’s relentlessly fucking into you “i-is that all that you can do? you’re bo-boring me...” in seconds, he would have you flipped around into a completely different position, something you didn’t even know existed that makes your muscles burn but your heat ravenous. he’d say, “if i’m so boring how is it that I’ve made you a fucking mess for me three times already?” 

X-ray: (what’s going on under those pleather pants) thicc thighs I’ll tell you that HA, jk that’s just me having the biggest most embarrassing thigh kink alive lmaooo. buuut it’s true! minho’s got those perfectly toned and thick thighs that he loves having you grind on of course. as for what this letter is really about, I see minho has having just the right proportions. not to be cheesy, but it’s like this boy was practically frickin made for you!! buuuut I think we all know that minho’s packing with something  

Yes: (biggest turn ons) on top of the ones mentioned above, I wanna make this one kinda cute and sentimental just bc I can lolll, but a major turn on for minho is a bomb ass personality!! minho really treasures people who are unique, true to themselves and passionate about something! he finds this super super attractive. this man is an absolute SIMP for a personality and that’s the first thing he falls in love with about you! (also shhhh I’m not pushing my pan!minho agenda shhh) 

Zzz: (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) kinda like with aftercare, minho can’t rest himself properly until you are fully taken care of! as soon as he knows that he’s covered all the bases: cleaning you off, getting you clothes, water, food, giving you a massage if you need it. as soon as the two of you are all cuddled up in together, then he’ll be able to relax himself, patiently smoothing down your hair as you fall asleep yourself, then, he’ll be out like a light. 

[pokemonswshfics]

hi!! could i request a piers nsfw oneshot where reader has her first time with him? thnk you!! <3

ahh hello anon!! i was planning to write piers nsfw regardless, he's def my fav after milo :) nsfw warning for everyone who doesn't like it! have a good read everyone ^-^ 💘

tw // degradation and humiliation ahead !!

Piers × Fem! Reader || First Time Oneshot (Nsfw)

"What did I tell you about talking to Leon?" Piers asked as you both walked through the door to his room.

You didn't answer and instead rolled your eyes, back turned to him. You took your bag and jacket off then almost tossed it to the floor near his nightstand.

"So you're not gonna answer?" He sounded irritated and so you finally turned. He had a slight scowl on his face, he took his jacket off as well and also placed it on the nightstand.

"What does it matter if I talk to Lee or not? You're my boyfriend, not him. I'm yours, you're mine." You bluntly replied and sat down onto his comforters where you would be spending the night. You crossed your arms and frowned at him.

Today you two had decided to attend a rave that wouldn't be hosted by Piers for once. There you talked to one of your friends, Leon, for a while and generally had a fun time. Piers let the jealousy he felt impact his thoughts, and he almost demanded you two go to his home sooner than you initially planned. He said it was because he had 'plans'.

"I know you are. I don't ever question it but..you've been getting on my nerves lately. Always talkin' to everyone but me, runnin' around places I don't know of.." Piers was suddenly in front of you, now slightly hunched so his face was in front of yours. "Kinda wanna teach you a lesson, kitty."

You blushed at his words when you understood what he was trying to say.

"You..what?"

The grinned that formed on his face had a hint of mischief in it, "You heard me..I know you're a virgin. And that's fine with me. I won't do anything to you that you don't want me to. So just say stop now.." Piers pushed you back to lay down on his bed, now lacing your fingers with his. His knee went between your legs as he was now getting above your body.

"If you don't want me to rearrange your fuckin' insides."

Your eyes widened at how vulgar he sounded and how easily he said it. Now you stared up at him, not knowing what to say but you'd be lying if you said you wanted him to stop. He was so close, and his knee was pressed up against your clothed entrance. You knew it would hurt, you were probably more nervous than anything but seeing and feeling Piers so closely..it made you feel things you couldn't describe.

There were a few moments of just silence before Piers grinned even wider, now with slightly lidded eyes. "Not hearing anything, kitty..I like that." He said before harshly pressing his lips to yours in an unexpected kiss.

Once you began to kiss back, you felt slightly pull away and whisper against your lips.

"Here's what's gonna happen, listen up." You felt his hand go to the area under your chin, right where it connected to your neck. His fingers lightly but firmly wrapped around your throat. "Since you wanted to go talk to the motherfucker today, I'll finally show you who you belong to. 'M gonna make you mine, I'll be your first," his grip slightly tightened, "And your last."

His knee pressed up against between your legs, earning a whimper from you. At the same time, he began to kiss you again with a smile. The grip on your throat and the sensation between your legs made you excitedly press down onto his knee, attempting to grind on it for any kind of friction.

"Be patient for me. No pleasurin' yourself yet..", Piers said quietly and moved his lips from your own, kissing down your cheek to your neck. He removed his grip from your throat, and began to kiss and lick it.

You shivered as he kissed the skin, and your breath hitched when you felt him begin to lightly nibble at your throat.

"I'm gonna leave a mark, kitty. Okay? My mark."

"Ah! P-Piers!" You whined when you felt him harshly make a hickey with multiple sucks and now soft bites. "Softly..please.."

"Hush, I know you like it."

You blushed again at how firm he sounded and couldn't help but clench your thighs around his knee. Almost instantly, you could feel Piers detach his mouth from your throat. His head lifted, and he looked down straight into your eyes.

"You're that desperate and that turned on right now? You wanna be all slutty and grind on my knee?" Piers' tone was low in volume and in pitch. "Fine. Just because I want to..I'll give that little pussy attention.."

It was now that Piers got up from you and stood at the side of the mattress between your legs. His hands went to the top of your jeans, pulling them down agonizingly slow. He maintained eye contact with you the whole time to watch you begin to get shy at the thought of removing your clothes.

Once the jeans were off, he pulled your body down the mattress so your legs would be on either side of him, your crotch in contact with his own. You blushed even darker when you felt a clothed erection grind against your panties, right at your entrance. You looked away immediately and could see him grin from the corner of your eye.

"You like that, baby?"

"Sh-Shut up.." You felt yourself begin to grind back onto his boner, getting a rhythm to match one another. You put your hand over your mouth to try and stifle a moan as you two continued.

"Alright..before you get too excited." He suddenly pulled back and pressed his thumb against your panties, rubbing you through the fabric. "You're already this wet for me?"

You groaned at his actions and words, and looked down to where his hands were. Piers now went to his knees on the floor, his head level with the bed, his face between your legs.

You sat up quickly and looked down at him. Piers bit the hem of the panties while looking into your eyes and dragged the undergarment down your thighs teasingly. The cold air hit your, now rather sensitive, parts and you bit your lip. Piers hoisted both your legs onto each of his shoulders, spreading them open.

Piers threw the panties to his side and smiled, looking straight ahead. You threw your head back when you felt him inch closer, finally pressing a light kiss to your entrance.

"Ah- I want you to stay still. You can do that for me right?" Piers asked and began to flick his tongue at your lower lips, he raised his hands on the outer sides of your thighs to hold you in place.

"Oh sh-shit..that feels.." You couldn't even finish your sentence, your head was clouded with comprehending how good Piers' tongue felt on you.

Piers continued to lap at your walls, and every few seconds would suck at your clit lightly and teasingly.

"You taste so good, kitty.."

"Piers- oh f-fuck.." You moaned out, unintentionally arching your back when you felt his tongue slip inside you. You turned back down to look at him, with one of your hands covering your mouth. "Ah-Ah! What are you d-doing..?"

Without budging, his eyes looked up to you.

" 'M tongue fucking you, kitty. Stay still." Piers replied against your skin, immediately going back to what he was doing. His tongue continued to flick in and out of you, by this time, he removed one of his hands from the grip he had on your thighs and was rubbing at your clit gently.

You tried your hardest not to move in any directions, your hands gripping the sheets around you. A sensation you could only describe as euphoric began to build up in your lower stomach, and you begged Piers to continue, cursing and moaning his name repeatedly.

With one final deep thrust of his tongue, he abruptly stopped and pulled away. Piers rose to his feet quickly, towering over you. His hand moved back to your throat, a harsh grip on it. You whimpered and looked up, squeezing your thighs together for more friction.

"Listen to me kitty, I know you were gonna cum right there. So I'm telling you now, you're not gonna cum until I say so. Understand me?" He practically growled while looking down at you. All you could do in answer was nod, still trying to press your thighs together.

Piers took a step back and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, "Take yours off. Now." He instructed calmly and slipped out of his, throwing it to where he tossed your clothes. You hurriedly listened, and took your shirt off, exposing your hard nipples. You could feel a blush returning to your face at the feeling and knowledge that every inch of you, was visible to Piers.

"Don't be shy, I love how you look okay? Don't gotta hide from me, baby." He assured and unbuckled his pants then pulled them down. You couldn't help but stare at the tent in his undergarments nervously, earning a chuckle from Piers once he realized.

"Nervous?"

"Very.."

"That's fine, I won't be too rough." Piers grinned and stepped back to the bed once he stepped out of his boxers. He got on and sat against the headboard then pulled you to him to sit on his lap. "No promises though.."

You gulped and propped yourself on your knees above his erection. You could almost feel yourself leaking, and his cock was only a few inches away. It took everything, especially common sense, to not slam yourself down and take him all in at once.

"Hey, baby." The way he had you positioned made you even shyer. He was looking directly up into your eyes, his hands now on your nipples to tug and toy with them. "Only if you're ready, okay?"

You nodded, whimpering at his touch on your breasts. "I want to, p-please.. Ah, Just.. Put it in."

Piers smirked and moved his hands down to your hips, squeezing them.

"Whatever you say, kitty."

With no warning, Piers brought you down onto him, causing you to take him in all at once.

"Fu-uck! Ow!" You cried out, feeling tears pool at the corners of your eyes. Piers cock was inside you, you could feel it filling your walls with ease. The thickness and length made you freeze in place, continuing to whimper. Piers' only reaction was a groan, and a smile.

"You look so sexy, kitty. Take that cock in, I want you to bounce on that shit." He murmured, watching you wince in pain and pleasure. If anything, the sight only made him harder.

His words made you begin to relax on him, and after a few moments, you could feel yourself finally begin to adjust to what was inside.

"Hahh.." You moaned out in a breathy tone, wrapping your arms around his neck. The grip he had on your hips was enough to bruise now, but it wasn't even close to being your main thought.

Slowly, you rose your hips only for him to slam you back down. You whimpered again and rocked your hips while he was inside, before surely rising up again and going back down.

"Pick up the pace."

You bit your lip as small clapping sounds were now heard throughout the room. You continued to bring your hips up and down on his cock, now fucking yourself on him. Every so often, Piers would let go of one of your hips and land harsh smacks onto your rear.

"Feels so g-good!" You moaned out and tried to bounce a little faster, the sounds of claps and smacks only making you more wet.

"Oh..fuck yeah. Fuck yeah, fuck yeah." Piers groaned and harshened the grip he had on you. You were sure there were bruises where his fingers were, but how easy his cock was slipping in and out, made you forget about the marks. "You're clenching around my cock, kitty..keep doing that..", He huskily whispered and pecked your lips before looking down at your throat.

You continued to bounce when you felt Piers' head go slightly down, latching himself to the skin once more.

"P-Piers..I need to cum. Please, I need to cum, I wanna cum-"

You cried out his name as you felt him harshly bit your collarbone, surely leaving a mark.

"Clench a few more times, keep fuckin' yourself."

The few seconds you continued to bounce felt like days, you were right at the brink of cumming and Piers was holding it from you. To make it worse, he had started thrusting upwards at an almost inhumane pace.

You continued to beg, and finally..

It worked.

"Cum for me, cum on your master's cock, kitty."

The sudden use of the word master, the grip Piers had on you, everything was a factor in your orgasm. Your face twisted in pleasure as you moaned his name, finally releasing on him. By the look on Piers' face, you knew you had gotten tighter around him. Your thighs gently shook, the entire experience was too overwhelming to pinpoint what you felt.

In a few seconds before you had really come down from your high, Piers spoke again.

"Get off, clean the mess you made for me. Okay?" He lifted you off him with ease and turned to sit at the edge of the bed. You looked at him with wide, dazed eyes. Once you could think straight again, you knew what he wanted, and you scrambled to your feet to then get on your knees for him.

As soon as you were in front of him, you wrapped a hand around his shaft and began to lick stripes up his length rapidly.

His breath hitched as soon as your tongue touched him, and he laced his hands in your hair to push your mouth around his cock, forcing you to take some in.

You instinctively gagged at how large it was, and how soon it hit the back of your throat. You bobbed your head rather slowly, too slow for Piers' liking.

"Fuckin' hell..go faster. F-fuck, your throat feels so good.." Piers groaned and pushed your head down further, causing tears to pool again at the corners of your eyes.

You continued to go the pace you had been going before you felt a yank on your hair, making you look up at Piers. He had a fistful of hair in both hands, and he leaned down a little.

"Just know, you could have avoided this, kitty."

With that, Piers practically shoved you back down on his cock, this time not letting go of your hair in the slightest. His hands made your head go faster than you could handle, but you didn't want him to stop. The feeling of his cock continuously hitting the back of your throat made you want to go even quicker.

"You look s-so good getting face fucked, like my little- oh shit! My little..slut!" Piers praised as his pace began to get erratic, and you knew he was nearing his high.

In a few seconds, your guess proved to be right. Piers came in your mouth with a curse escaping his lips, and he held you down his cock as he also rode out his orgasm. You could feel the warm seed begin to slide down your throat, some dribbling out of your mouth and onto your chin.

Piers pulled out of your mouth with a final groan, looking down at you and softly smiling while he caught his breath.

"Swallow it all, baby."

As soon as he said it, you followed his order. With a finger, you wiped the semen on your chin and licked it off in order to swallow it as well. You both were panting messes by this point.

It was Piers that calmed down first, he pulled you up to your feet after he stood then softly kissed you.

"That was great, kitty. Thank you, you did so well. Are you feeling okay?" He whispered once he pulled away and moved a hand to your chin. "Marked you up pretty bad.."

"I'm fine! I-I liked everything that happened, including all these." You blushed in reference to the marks and looked away. "Thank you for being my first, I won't forget it." This time you pecked his lips gently and grinned tiredly.

"Come on, before we sleep; Let's take a bath okay? To clean us up, I'll take care of those for you." He looked down at the bruises on your hips and smiled sheepishly before stepping away to walk to the bathroom connected to his room.

"Join me when you're ready." He called out and finally walked in.

You smiled a little and looked to the bed, already trying to remember every detail about what had happened. You sighed happily and lightly touched the hickeys he had left with a final thought in your head, thinking of what he said earlier as you walked towards the bathroom.

I'm Piers' now.

**

Thank you for reading! :) I hope you enjoyed, my requests are always open, just might be a wait 💕 - 🥝

[raccoonfallsharder]

Hi! I just read your new chapter for the Take What You Need fic with Rocket and first off– perfection. every. single. time. I'd also like to request self-care/life-task for a chapter: Rocket lovingly bullying you into washing your already-ginormous-and-still-growing pile of dirty clothes? It's something I keep doing and would love to see how you write Rocket responding to it.

thank you for your patience with me! i'm so sorry i couldn't get this out sooner. i hope it is everything you were hoping for and that it helps get your laundry done a lil sooner next time my little sunshine-daffodil. may all your laundry-days feel like a studio ghibli sequence with the minor addition of a foulmouthed space-raccoon. please know that i wrote each word with love ♡♡♡

✩࿐࿔ it's frickin laundry day. [new 1/14 for @moonchhu]

smut-free fluff | no use of y/n | gn reader | drabbles | word count: 1,923.

✩࿐࿔ take what you need.

࿔ eat somethin. at least grab a frickin’ snack. (wc: 576) ࿔ go to frickin bed already. (wc: 737) ࿔ get outta bed & get your shit done. & stop doomscrolling (wc: 925) ࿔ take a damn bath. (wc: 1,375) ࿔ leave your frickin skin alone. (wc: 1,579) ࿔ take a fuckin study break.(wc: 1,020) ࿔ drink some goddamn water. (wc: 1,209) ࿔ stop destroying your frickin clothes.(wc: 1,649) ࿔ just buy the damn thing already. (wc: 1,271) ࿔ it's frickin laundry day. (wc: 1,923) for moonchhu [NEW 1/14] ࿔ get some goddamn sunshine ࿔ did you take your meds today?

big tasks are overwhelming. it's okay to break them into smaller bits and just do one thing at a time - even one day at a time.

this is about as wholesome as it gets (for me) i think. can be read platonically or romantically. mcu-based, meant to take place post-volume 3, but headcanon however you want ♡

You stare at the enemy helplessly. It feels like it’s expanding right before your very eyes: bursting from its confinement, ready to crawl over every available surface. To the untrained eye, it might just look like a growing pile of laundry in the corner of your room — but for you, right now, it may as well be your nemesis. Sleeves and socks tumble over your overstuffed laundry hamper, and if you wait much longer, it’s going to start creeping over your floor. There’s the sharp rap of knuckles — low on your doorframe — and the sound of a boot against the door itself as Knowhere’s Captain kicks it open without waiting for a response. Perfect timing, you think drily, and you follow the thought with a yelp. “Hey! I could’ve been indecent!” Of course — of course — Rocket’s eyes go straight to your laundry pile. “The only thing indecent in here is that,” he snarks, jutting a clawed thumb at the hamper-bag. “What the hell?” Classic. “Did you want something?” you ask, annoyed. “I did,” he admits, “but now I’m frickin’ distracted. Do you even got any clean clothes left?” You betray yourself with a nervous glance down at the sweatpants you’re currently wearing. “What the hell, kid,” he repeats flatly, but it’s no longer a question.

read more on ao3 ✩࿐࿔

if you find any of these at all helpful, they're meant for you.

feel free to ✩ request reminders ✩ via reblogs, asks, and tumblr or ao3 comments if they would be helpful for you. it may take me a hot minute to get to them depending on life n stuff, but i will do my best. i'm slowing down a little on these reminder requests for a month or two while i focus on getting Window Across the Galaxy ✧*:･ﾟ done, but you can still feel free to send them!

if you’d like to join my fanfiction taglist, please comment or send me a message or ask! ♡

@suicidalshitstick ✩ @glow-autumz ✩ @evolvingchaoswitch ✩ @wren-phoenix ✩ @pretty-chips

(total word count: 12,264)

[theteddylupinexperience]

The Concert | Dio Morrissey x f!reader

AN: not a lot to say about this one, aside from the fact that I’m actually really happy with how it turned out. I always love the “best friend’s younger sister” trope, and who better to do it with than our goth king himself. Thanks as always to @pascalpanic for hyping me up and listening to me rant about mosh pits. Enjoy!

Warnings: swearing, kissing, super mild punk show related violence, brief anxiety mention, Dio is a little cringey but you like it

“Kiddo, you’re not even gonna have fun,” your brother swears, “this band is harsh no doubt, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“As sweet as your over protection is, you’re not ditching me tonight,” you roll your eyes. Your brother is sitting on your bathroom counter watching you get ready for the concert he promised a month ago he’d take you to. You know his concern comes from a genuine place, you’d only gotten into the goth scene fairly recently, and long time fans can be really intense with “virgins.”

“Hey, uh, is Shane gonna be there?” you ask, casually as you can manage. You attempt to continue with your black eyeshadow to avoid eye contact with your brother, but he sees right through you anyways.

“First of all, you have to call him Dio while we’re in public. You are not killing the vibe on your induction night. Second of all, gross. I’m sitting right here. Drool over my best friend on your own time.” Your brother pokes your forehead with one of your makeup brushes in a scolding manor.

“Okay well first of all,” you start, “this is my time because this is my bathroom. And second of all… do YOU have any weird nickname I should be aware of before I, and I quote, kill the vibe?”

Your brother flushes slightly, looking at the ground before answering, “Uh, it’s Ghost, actually.”

You narrow your eyes at him, biting back a laugh at how ridiculous he looks, bright red ears contrasting the Doc Martens currently kicking against the floor.

“Dio and… Ghost?” He just nods, looking up at you finally.

“Well alright, my knights in dirty ass Tripp pants.” The comment earns you a laugh, and you feel a small swell of pride rise in your chest. For as insufferable as you found each other a lot of the time, your older brother really was like your best friend. His group of friends had stuck together since middle school, and had absolutely taken you under their wing when you’d let yourself really fall into your darker side. Tonight was your first real night out with everyone, and you couldn’t pretend to be more nervous. You had known your brother’s best friend Shane, Dio, since you were in third grade and had always found him fascinating. You can’t deny that he’s gorgeous, tall and lean, always wearing a leather trench coat that accentuates those features. Full, plush lips, and deep brown eyes that you want to get lost in. Just as you find yourself actually getting lost in the thought of Dio, you’re startled back to reality when your brother turns your hair dryer on and blows it in your face.

“Yo, kid, did I lose you? We gotta go,” in your trance he’s managed to get his hair done and a subtly cool amount of eyeliner. You can only hope not to look like a child, or god forbid a drone, next to him and his friends. “Don’t be nervous, just get your shoes on.”

When you get your boots laced up, you give yourself one last glance in the mirror, fluffing your hair to make it look less obviously styled, and run out the door.

When you arrive at the venue, if you could call it that, it looks more like a rundown warehouse, the music is already in full swing. “The openers always fuckin’ suck, kid,” your brother had told you, “we always show up at least an hour late.”

You’re rocking nervously on your heels, stuck to the ground where your brother had told you to wait while he found the group and brought them over to you. You smile widely when you see them approaching you, but are quick to cover it with what you hope is a cool smirk. Out of place doesn’t even begin to describe how you feel, it would be more accurate to say you’re on a different plane of existence. You’ve managed to transcend discomfort and now have settled into a calmer state.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Wednesday Addams herself,” a deep voice calls out from the head of the pack.

“Hey Sh- uh, Dio,” you stammer as the king himself puts his hands on your shoulders to inspect your outfit. Your stomach drops when he brushes some hair from your face. “You look good. Like you put some thought into how you look, unlike the rest of these drones.” Your face lights up at his praise, and flushes quickly when he winks at you.

Your group makes their way towards the front of the stage when you hear the headlining band announced. The first few songs go off without a hitch, the crowd moves in a seething, pulsing way to the music, and you find yourself moving along with them. You catch Dio’s eyes a couple times to find him already looking at you, his expression relaxed and amused, but his eyes dark as he takes in everything around him. You’re about to walk over and ask him to dance with you when you hear from the stage, “Alright everybody, let’s open this fucking pit!”

Your eyes widen briefly, but you try your best to stay cool in front of your brother and his friends. You can only imagine how lame Dio would find you if you lost your cool because of some moshing. Unfortunately, in your attempt to save face, you’ve distracted yourself to the people around you and find yourself getting shoved, almost to the ground. Your brother hurries over and helps you up, and you assure him you’re fine. It’s nothing you can’t handle. He keeps his grip on you a moment longer, and ruffles your hair before jumping into the circle pit himself. You do your best to keep dancing around, staying away from everyone jumping and shoving each other as much as you can, and for a few minutes you’re surprisingly successful.

The next song that plays is even more intense than the last, and you find yourself crowded against the stage trying to stay away from everything. Your heart rate quickens, and you can feel an anxiety attack trying to creep its way up your spine. You look around desperately, searching for your brother so you can beg him to take you home, when a hand on your shoulder startles you.

Warm brown eyes search your own, “Didn’t mean to scare you, darling, but do you want to get out of here?”

You nod up at Dio, and he takes your hand, guiding you in front of him towards a side door. One of his hands rests protectively against the small of your back, and you shudder at the warmth. You’re outside, the air is cool against the sweat on your skin, and yet Dio’s hand never leaves yours.

“D’you wanna sit?” He gestures to a bench resting against the side of the building.

“I-” your voice cracks, and you clear your throat to find some volume, “Sure, that sounds nice.”

The pair of you sit in silence for a moment while you catch your breath, you can feel Dio’s eyes boring into you, but can’t bear to look at him. “God, I’m so sorry, Shane,” you whisper, “Er, Dio, fuck, sorry again.”

“Don’t apologize, darling, it’s just you and me out here.” You finally dare to look up, and he’s smiling gently at you, holding both of your hands in one of his, and rubbing the other soothingly up your back. “I know the first time can be intense, to say the least. It’s a madhouse in there, and those fucking drones don’t know any better than to push everyone around. It should be a crime to scare or shove anyone as perfect as you.”

You huff out a strangled laugh at his words, and move your hands to fiddle with the rings on his fingers. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because you’re my best friend’s little sister,” he starts, and his grip on your back tightens when disappointment crosses your features, “and because you are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on. If someone as ethereal as you will even allow me in your presence, I have done something right.”

You turn your body towards him completely, searching his face. The strong, confident, devil may care Dio from inside is nothing compared to the patient, sweet, borderline insecure Shane you’re talking to out here. You reach your hand up to caress his face, smoothing down his dyed black curls, tracing your thumb against his full bottom lip. Shane melts into your touch, a content sigh leaving his lips at the contact, the heat of your skin against his feels more powerful than the sun at this moment. When you run your thumb nail against the sensitive skin behind his ear, his eyes snap open.

“Can I- would you… would you be mad if I kissed you?” He asks, his voice shy, but his eyes full of want.

‘I’ll be mad if you don’t,” you laugh incredulously. Shane places one hand against your jaw, and the other one slides up your back to rest in your hair. The cool metal of his rings feels electric, but nothing could compare to the jolt you feel when his lips meet yours. He’s soft, so much gentler than you imagined he’d be, and he takes his time losing himself in the feeling of your lips moving against his. He pulls away too soon, and you grab the front of his jacket to pull him back to you.

This kiss is not as gentle, but it is equally as sweet and intoxicating. His hand tightens on your scalp, and his tongue presses against the seam of your lips. You gasp, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue against yours. He tastes like clove cigarettes and Jaeger, and it’s fucking incredible. He’s more perfect than your wildest dreams of him, and the low moan he lets out when you scratch your nails up his back makes you reconsider everything you’ve ever thought about heaven.

Eventually you have to breathe, so you pull back just a bit and rest your forehead against his. “Wow,” you manage to get out. Shane laughs, the sound is more musical than anything you’ve heard tonight.

“Wow is correct, my darling, you are truly more ethereal than I could have fathomed.” He kisses you again, softly on the lips, and then places another on your cheek. “Do you think I could take you out for real sometime soon?”

You bite your lip to prevent a giddy smile from breaking across your face, and nod quickly. “I actually found this record store with its own coffee shop a couple towns over, we could check that out, maybe? I mean, I’ve liked you since freshman year, so anything you want to do would be perfect. You’re perfect, Dio.”

His ears flush an adorable pink, and he smiles almost shyly up at you. “Shane,” he says, “Call me Shane.”

You beam up at him, “Shane.”

He stands up, takes your hand, and leads you back into the concert venue. Walking arm in arm with the king, you feel like you could jump right in the middle of that mosh pit and come out on top. Shane guides you back to your friends, and you try not to get overwhelmed by the stares and whispers when people see you together. Your brother catches a glimpse of you, his eyes drop down to where your hand is connected with Shane’s, and you brace yourself for an obnoxious or over protective comment.

“It’s about goddamn time.”

[forever-rogue]

Hi! Could you please do #2 from your prompt list with Javi or Frankie? Thank u!🤍

#2 - Kiss

I had to go with Javier 💕🥰

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Can you stare more quietly?" you looked up from your paperwork finding, just as you knew you would, Javier's dark eyes watching you intently. You'd felt him watching you for some time, silent, but his silence often spoke volumes. He cleared his throat before looking away and reaching for his cigarettes. He groaned lightly when he realized he'd gone through another pack; his chain smoking was particularly strong when he had something on his mind. Clearly there was a lot going on under that dark mop of hair, "Javi?"

"Nada," he said gruffly with a shrug of his shoulders, leaning back in his chair as he looking at the dirty old ceiling. You knew that look all too well. This time it was your turn to stare, and you tossed your pen onto your desk, and walked over to him motioning for him to get up, “what are you doing, dulzura?”

“Let’s go,” you quirked your head towards the door. It was late, and most of the office was dark, leaving only you and Javier there with a few other stragglers. He leaned forward and gave you a curious look but you could see a smile tugging on his features, “come on, Javier. Let’s get out of here. Want to go for a drink?”

“You read my mind,” he said gruffly as he stood up and grabbed his jacket, following close behind you, out of the dingy, dirty office and into the cool of the fresh air of the evening.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“What’s on your mind?” you asked as you nudged the neck of your bottle against his. He’d been quiet, more so than normal, and it was startling. This wasn’t your normal Javi, this was a different Javi... and you were worried. He opened and closed his mouth a few times but nothing came out, “Javier?”

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath as he downed the remainder of the foamy yellow liquid before setting the bottle roughly onto the dirty bar table. He drummed his fingers for a moment before giving you a searing gaze, “I like you, Dulzura. You know that.”

“Javier,” your heart stopped for a moment as you listened to his words. You wished you could just easily accept his words and let them wash over you in peace. But you couldn’t...not with Javi. Not with his reputation and his tendencies...you know it wasn’t anything...but still.  You never judged him or cared about it. Javi was Javi....your friend and partner. But you wanted to guard your own heart, “stop please. You don’t have to do this...we don’t need to.”

“What if I want to,” he insisted softly as you looked away and shook your head. How desperately you wanted to slide into his side of the booth, wrap your arms around him and kiss him. “we’ve been skirting around the issue for weeks now and I think we need to address it.”

“What’s there to address?” you asked innocently although you did know that it really should be discussed at some point...but you wished it could be at a point in the future...a far. far point in the future.

“Really?” he scoffed slightly as he reached into the jacket pocket and fished out his newly acquired pack of cigarettes. He made quick work of sticking it in his mouth and lighting it up, blowing out long, billowing puffs of smoke, “come on, we’re both adults.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, thickly swallowing the lump in your throat. Gods you wished he would just drop the subject, but that was definitely not one of his traits, “look, Javier, let’s just call it what it is. It wasn’t a good day and we were both tired, and hurting - vulnerable - and we took comfort in each other. One thing led to another and we have sex, it doesn’t need to be more or less than that.”

“That’s a lie,” he took the cigarette out of his mouth and tapped it off in the ancient ashtray, “don’t fucking deny it. You’ve always been a terrible liar.”

“Javier,” you looked away, taking a swig from your own bottle as you avoided his gaze, “we’re friends - partners. I don’t want...I don’t want to ruin what we have. Why?”

“Because we can be more than that...so much more,” he insisted, his low dropping low as he silently willed you to look at him, “I have liked you for so long, I know my feelings aren’t...fake.”

“I’m not exactly your type, am I?” your small laugh was bitter; dry. You realized it had cut a little more than you had intended. You hadn’t meant to go for a low blow, but you did want to remind him that he had a reputation for a reason. Judging by how he froze and the almost hurt expression on his face, you knew your words had their intended affect, “look, Javi, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t...I didn’t mean it.”

“Then what did you mean?” his voice steeled as he watched you intently, his gaze trained on you, all consuming and disconcerting. You shrugged as you played with your hands in your lap, knowing that this was a dangerous and thin line you were treading, “come on Dulzura, I’ve never known you to be so quiet.”

“I’m scared, Javier,” you finally admitted after a few moments, as you stared at the table, “I’m scared to let you in and let down my guard. I’m afraid you’re going to break my heart. A-and I don’t deserve that...I don’t deserve to deal with a broken heart and I don’t want to ruin you. In my eyes or anything else.”

“You’re so sure that I would break your heart?” it was a small laugh, a bitter thing, that made your stomach drop as soon as the sound met your ears, “you don’t know me well at all then, baby.”

“Javier...” you leaned in closer to him and dropped your voice, “I don’t...I love you, Javier. But I don’t....this can’t happen.”

“What did you say?” he asked before you could ramble on and get too lost in your train of thought. You hadn’t even realized those three little words that slipped out of your mouth. But as he stared back at you, those brown eyes soft as ever as he searched your own, you realized what had happened, “what. Did. You. Say?”

You wanted to deny it, pretend it had never happened and take back your words, but you couldn’t. Not when it was the truth, not when they were already out in the open, not when they were true.

“I...umm,” your face instantly warmed up as you turned away, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole, “don’t make say it again. Please.”

“Say it again and I’ll never ask you to repeat it,” his face was almost lit up with joy as he realized he had you right where he wanted you. You groaned as you finished your beer, unable to contain your own laugh as you quickly flipped him off.

“You realize that your statement itself is a fallacy,” you teased as he sat back in the booth and shrugged, bringing a hand to his mouth as he brushed his fingers over his mustache. You sighed heavily, letting go of all the worries and nerves that were racking your body, “fuck...Javi...”

“I love you,” he blurted out before you could say anything else. Your mouth dropped and formed a small o as you realized what he had said. At first you wondered if it was some sort of colossal joke or he was just pulling your leg to try and get you to repeat those damned words. But when he remained silent, waiting for some sort of reaction and didn’t make some sort of start remark, you realized he wasn’t joking.

“I...huh?” your brow furrowed as he laughed lightly giving you an expectant look, “Javi?”

“I’ll say it again if you will.”

“I love you?” you asked as you looked at him with wide eyes. His grin spread across his features, brilliantly highlighting his dimple, “is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Only if you mean it,” he cocked an eyebrow before taking the cigarette out of his mouth and stubbing it out in the ashtray, “do you?”

“You’re an asshole Javier,” you insisted as he noncommittally nodded, “but yeah. I, umm...I do. I have for a long time.”

“Well that settles that then,” he stated simply, a satisfied little look on his face as you just sat there in confusion.

“Settles what?”

“I love you,” he said as you didn’t bother to hide the little smile on your face, “and you love me. Maybe that’s all we need. Maybe that’s all that matters.”

“Javier...”

“Do you ever think that we think too much?”

“I would argue that as DEA Agents its our job...”

“Maybe we’ve gotten too lost in that,” he stated simply, “maybe we need to think less and just...be.”

“Sage words coming from you, Javier Peña.”

“I’m not just a pretty face,” he smirked as you dramatically rolled your eyes, “but I’m being honest with you. Maybe we shouldn’t think too much about any of this...and just see where things go.”

“I’m scared...”

“I am too,” he admitted, almost laughing, “I haven’t felt this way about...anyone before and its...scary. God, I’m grown man and here I feel like a fuckin’ kid.”

“Javi?”

“Dulzura?”

“Will you...will you kiss me?” your cheeks felt like they were on fire as your question hung in the air for just a moment. There was a wicked little glint in his eye as he nodded with a light, nervous huff of air, “but not here.”

“Oh? Oh.”

“If we’re going to do this, I want to do this properly,” he insisted softly, “and I’m not kissing you in this dirty, run down bar. I want to do this properly. Let’s get out of here.”

“Okay now that I can get behind.”

“Let’s go for a walk,” he suggest softly, earning a smile from you, “ice cream sound good?”

“Yeah, Javi,” you agreed as you gently took his outstretched hand, “that sounds good.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[notquitetwilight]

THE CULLANOS: A TASTE OF BOSTON, PART TWO

The Cullanos continue taking care of business in Boston. Warning: this story contains graphic violence and sexual references (no smut, just truly cursed references). Previous instalment

Esme breathed shakily as she walked hand-in-hand with her husband past brownstone after brownstone. The street was deserted; it was just the two of them and the parked cars that lined their path. Her thoughts seemed to scream louder in the silence as she mentally willed that the daughter they left behind would be safe.

“S’like Brooklyn down here,” Carlisle said absentmindedly, keeping his voice low. When she didn’t answer, he looked at her, suddenly noticing her unease. “What’s the matta, baby?”

“I think…” she trailed off, unsure. She wasn’t used to being nervous. But she couldn’t shake the image of Rosalie’s wide eyes right before she had left her in the car. They were the same shade of blue as Carlisle’s, the type that seemed cold and piercing when narrowed, but inviting enough to swim in when widened. Though she’d never have admitted it, Esme knew she was afraid. And that made her afraid.

“I’m not sure we should’ve brought her.”

He frowned. “Rosie?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, our other child we were recently reunited with. Who else?”

“She wanted to come,” he said, raising a shoulder.

“So? If she said she wanted to do crack, would you let her?”

“Depends on whether or not she’d share,” he grinned.

“Carl, I’m serious,” she said, her voice cracking a little, which surprised both of them.

He squeezed her hand. “She’s a smart girl, Ezzie. She knows the drill.”

“Still, if somethin’ goes wrong—“

“It won’t.”

“If it does, I don’t…” she stopped in her tracks, feeling like she couldn’t take in air as quickly as her body needed her to. She closed her eyes as she tried to level her breathing. “If somethin’ were to happen to her, I don’t know what I’d do. I’d never forgive myself. Or you.”

She opened her eyes to find him looking a little wounded. “I thought this was what you wanted. Her here, with us.”

“It is,” she said, starting to walk again. “But all this is also why we gave her up in the first place, right?”

He groaned quietly. “Not this again.”

That infuriated her. She let go of his hand and made a great effort to keep the volume of her voice low in her response. “I’m sorry, is my fear for our daughter’s safety inconveniencin’ you?”

“I can’t keep doin’ this,” he said with a sigh. “Over and over, I keep tryin’ to make you happy, and over and over, I feel like I’m failin’. Because I don’t know what you want. Because you don’t know what you want.” He spoke so calmly, so matter-of-factly, without a hint of malice. She balked at him.

“What?” was all she managed.

“You want me, but you don’t want me. So I try move on. Twice. When ya do want me, I’m there in a heartbeat. You want our daughter, but you don’t want our daughter, so I give up my chance to be a dad to her. But then you do want her, but only from a distance, so we torture ourselves watchin’ other people raise her. Then you want her, fully want her, so I bring her back to us, and ever since I did you’ve been sayin’ maybe we shoulda left her as she was. I don’t know what else to do. I feel like I can’t make you happy no matta what. Maybe you were right, all those times ya said family life wasn’t for you. Ya seem a lot less happy since we became one.”

She gritted her teeth and glared up at him, ready to risk their cover in screaming at him. Yet her anger dissolved immediately upon seeing his face. He looked…sad. Truly, hopelessly sad, the type that usually only came with grief. Only she was allowed to see him this vulnerable, and only she had seen him wear this same expression just twice before: the day of his mother’s funeral, and the day they gave Rose up.

She had never considered how all of it might have looked to him, how what she said or did could be misinterpreted. She just assumed he knew where her head was at, because she always knew where his was at. But it suddenly occurred to her that she knew everything he thought because he spoke everything he thought to her. He knew her well, better than anyone else did, but he wasn’t a mind-reader. And while she believed herself to be a relatively good communicator, she knew she was nowhere near as good as him.

“There it is,” he muttered, interrupting her thoughts. He came to a halt and nodded to the dark grey brownstone a little ahead of them, the last on the street.

She frowned. “That’s...their house?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s attached to other buildin’s,” she said flatly.

“Guess that’s what silencers are for.”

He started for the Ivanov residence while rooting in one of his pockets, but she pulled at his arm. “Carl.”

He let her grip lead him to face her, but he looked at his feet, kicking the ground.

“Look at me,” she said softly. His head stayed down and his forehead remained creased.

“Baby?” she tried. He raised his head to meet her eyes then, and she couldn’t help but smile with relief. He was usually the one for terms of endearment, so the rare times she used them, she got his full attention.

“I’m not...less happy,” she started, unsure of how to explain herself.

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“I am sure! Give me a chance. I’m much more happy, one hundred per cent. But I’m also much more worried. And maybe that’s what looks bad. Maybe I’m not handlin’ it right, I dunno. But I’m not used to bein’ worried. I’m not used to bein’...scared. And I am, Carl. For the first time in my life, I’m fuckin’ terrified. Almost 24/7.”

The line between his eyebrows deepened. “I don’t get it,” he shook his head the slightest bit. “Why? You’ve never been the anxious type.”

“That’s what I’m tryin’ to say,” she gripped onto his forearms and gently shook them. “I’ve never been scared because I only had myself to worry about. And I didn’t care what happened to me, or what kinda shit I got myself into. The money and the good time was worth it. Everything was carefree and I didn’t wanna be tied down. But it got to the point where I wasn’t...happy anymore. I think that’s where the Charles thing came from. You got married for the first time and I hated it. And it was my own fault, because I said no to you, but it was only when I saw what you had without me that I realised I wanted that, too. So I married that asshole and then that went to shit. Had me kinda believin’ I wasn’t meant to have that family life. And then it was back to square one; you askin’ me to marry you, me sayin’ no, you gettin’ married to someone else and me hatin’ it again.

“But I just continued doin’ what I wanted, not carin’, until that day she walked in on us in the kitchen. I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone the way I hated her that day. It was like, all of a sudden I realised that even though you were mine, you were officially hers on paper. She was the wife, I was the goomar. And I fuckin’ hated it and I fuckin’ hated her and I wanted it to just be fuckin’ done with already. And then she was dead and you were askin’ me to marry you again and it felt so right to finally fuckin’ say yes. And I think I started to feel a little bit like the stakes were higher after we made it official, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it is now. Not as bad as it’s been since Rosie came. We worked so hard for her to trust us, for her to want to stay with us. And now the three of us are finally together as a proper family. It might not be a ‘Brady Bunch’ scenario, but it’s us. It’s like, the last piece of the puzzle finally clicked into place, and now I’m waitin’ for it to fall apart. So you’re right, I’ve never been the anxious type. But I never had anything to lose. Now I do — I have everything to lose. And I don’t know what I’d do if I lost it.”

He wiped away a tear she hadn’t noticed rolling down her cheek and pulled her into him. She gasped for breath after rambling for so long. “Why didn’t you say?” he mumbled against her hairline, then kissed the top of her forehead.

“I dunno. Maybe I thought you knew already. Or maybe I didn’t wanna sound stupid.” She sighed and fully leaned into him, her cheek against his chest. This way, she was facing the Ivanov house, and it registered with her that there was the tiniest sliver of light visible through a gap in one window’s heavy curtains.

“That doesn’t sound stupid at all,” he stroked the back of her head. “It’s a relief, actually. I thought maybe you were gettin’ bored of it all. Of us.”

“Never,” she said, tearing her eyes away from the house so she could lift her head to look at him. “You’re my person, forever.”

“And she’s our person, that we made,” he smiled. “Isn’t that fuckin’ crazy, when ya think about it?”

“But isn’t that— doesn’t that make you scared? I’ve seen how much you adore her. Why aren’t you worried, like me?”

“I just...trust in my gut. And my gut says none of us are dyin’ for a long, long time.”

“That’s it?” she asked without snark. She was genuinely fascinated by his complete lack of concern for their safety.

“Yeah. I have faith in us. We’re not dumb, we’re not new to this, we’re good both as individuals and as a team. And like you said, there’s more to lose now, so there’s more to fight for. Think of how unstoppable you were when you didn’t give a shit. Can you imagine anyone bein’ able to stop you now that you do?”

“Guess not,” she said, feeling a smile growing across her face. She was still worried, but she felt much better. There was a lot of sense in what he said. His words did their job in comforting her, as they often did.

“I love you,” she said, pulling at his neck to bring his face down to hers. “You always know the right thing to say.”

She kissed him then, slowly and expressively at first. But she quickly began to lose herself in it, and her fingers found themselves running through his hair. He let out a soft groan before pulling away and grinning at her.

“Later, baby. We have a job to do.” He glanced at his Rolex and his face dropped. “Shit. We’re a lil’ behind schedule. Alice’ll be waitin’.”

She nodded and pointed at the house as the two of them began walking again. “Someone’s up, too.”

He squinted at the window as they both rooted around in their pockets for their earpieces. They stopped a little short of the brownstone as they put them in.

“You ready?” he whispered, taking her hand again and bringing it to his lips to kiss it.

She nodded once more, and the two of them turned on their earpieces.

“About tiiiiiiiiiiiime,” Alice sang the second they were connected. “You’re late. By five minutes!”

“A queen is never late,” Esme said, her speaking volume lower than Carlisle’s whisper had been. “Everyone else is simply early.”

“Did Madame Mafia just quote ‘the Princess Diaries’ to me?” Alice asked with mock shock.

Carlisle tilted his head and raised his brows.

“Rose showed it to me last weekend,” Esme answered defensively. “We were...bondin’.”

He smirked and turned away from her, eyeing up the house in front of them. “Okay Alice, how’re we doin’?”

“Strangely, no guards — not on the property, anyway. That’s not like them at all. I partly wondered if they were hanging around the area and you ran into a few, because you were late, but I guess not since you’re alive and calm. As for the Ivanovs themselves, two are home: Katarina and Garrett. I have eyes everywhere except the bathrooms, so unless the rest of the family and an army of cronies are hiding in showers, this should be pretty easy.”

The words were like music to Esme’s ears. Her shoulders immediately relaxed, and she finally began to feel excited. She beamed at Carlisle, who gave her a knowing smile and mouthed “see?” in return.

“That’s what I like to hear, Al,” he said. “And you’ll be able to shut their camera system down once we’re out?”

“Of course. Once you’re out and alive, it’s gone.”

“Great. So, they’re still up?”

“Unfortunately,” Alice groaned.

“Don’t worry about us Al, that makes it more fun.”

“I wasn’t saying ‘unfortunately’ because I don’t think you can handle them. I was saying ‘unfortunately’ because over the past half hour, I’ve seen some shit. And that’s saying a lot, considering I work for you two.”

Esme and Carlisle exchanged a look, the pair of them frowning.

“What do you mean?” she asked her.

“I mean I want a raise,” Alice grumbled, causing Carlisle to break into another smile.

“Ahh...they’re in a bedroom?”

“That idea, yes. But wrong room. The living room’s where you’re heading for. Second floor. The ground floor is more like an empty hall, kinda like those malls that don’t really start ‘til you go up the escalator. There’s an elevator, but obviously that’ll make noise, so you should take the stairs.”

“That’a girl. Did you see if they’re armed?”

“As far as I can tell, no. There’s a shit tonne of guns and what appear to be Molotov cocktails in the bedrooms, so don’t give them a chance to go running. I can’t see any weapons in the living room. But I mean you guys know, the likelihood that they’ve got something concealed somewhere — either in the room or on them — is 50/50.”

“Yeah, true. Thanks. I guess that’s our cue.”

“Alrighty. Good luck! I’ll be right here in your ears the whole time.”

The pair of them readied their weapons and clinked the tip of their guns together in salute as they always did.

“Ladies first,” he smiled at her, and he let her lead the way.

Back in the car, Rosalie leaned into her headrest after checking her timer for the umpteenth time. She had set it the second the couple disappeared from view and found herself checking it every minute or so since. There was nothing else to do. She didn’t want to get distracted by her phone in case trouble was around. She couldn’t play music, because she neither wanted to attract attention nor miss anything she’d need to hear. All she could do was wait in the silence, and every second that ticked by felt like an hour.

She almost jumped out of her skin when her phone noisily vibrated on the dashboard. She grabbed it in a panic as though it was loud enough to wake the whole street, but once it was in her hand, she simply stared at it. Royce. Of course. She should’ve known her on-again off-again boyfriend would be the only person to ring her at this hour. She let it ring out, then shifted in her seat to make herself comfortable. The second she did, her phone began to vibrate again. With an eye roll, she brought it up to her ear.

She was immediately met with loud sounds that caused her to wince and pull the phone back slightly. A baseline thudded, so she knew he was out, but the sound was too distorted for her to tell if he was at a club or a party.

“Hello?” she asked, beginning to wonder whether the calls had been accidental. A muffled voice finally spoke, though it said nothing comprehensible.

“Royce, is that you? I can’t hear you,” she tried, keeping her voice low. She wasn’t going to up the volume she had maintained just because he called her from a loud place.

“ROSE!” Royce boomed from the other end of the phone, causing her to wince again. “Come...c’mere. M’over...s’funnn.”

The combination of the loud atmosphere, poor connection and slurred words made it difficult to understand.

“Royce, I don’t know what you’re saying. You know I’m not even in New York or Jersey right now, right? Remember I told you?”

“M’over...” he said again before saying something intelligible.

She was losing patience. “You’re drunk again, and I don’t know what you’re saying. I can’t talk right now, okay? I’ve gotta go.”

He started shouting incoherently. The only thing she made out before hanging up on him was the word ‘bitch’.

She inhaled deeply and checked the timer again. They’d been gone seventeen minutes and 48 seconds. Esme had said to leave after the forty minute mark. She shuddered at the idea of having to drive off without them, wondering whether or not she’d be able to do so if that’s what it came to. It was hard to imagine life beyond them now, though they’d only been connected for a little over a year. She stared out the windshield, biting the inside of her cheek, and felt her phone vibrate again.

Huffing, she thrust it up against her ear. “I said I can’t talk!” she hissed.

It was dead silent. There was none of the noise of the previous call. For a split second, she wondered if she had accidentally hung up.

“Rosalie?” asked a clear, deep voice after a beat.

She paused. “Yes?” she said in a small voice.

“Oh, it is you, thank god!” Relief flooded her as she recognised the voice as Emmett’s. “I was a lil’ confused for a second there. Thought maybe I dialled the wrong number.”

“Sorry Emmett. I— I thought you were somebody else.”

“No prahblem, no prahblem.”

“Is everything okay? If you’re calling me because you couldn’t reach the lovebirds, they’re not back yet.”

“No, no,” he said. “I just wanted to check in and say hi while the two ‘a them are gone. Y’know, just makin’ sure you’re holdin’ up okay on your first big job.”

“Thanks,” she said, a little bitterly.

He must’ve picked up on her tone, because there was another pause. “Uh, sorry to bother you.”

“I’m not pissed at you, I’m pissed at them for thinking I need to be checked up on. I told them I’d be fine.”

“Huh? Nobody asked me to. I just wanted to.”

“Oh,” she said awkwardly, but the corners of her mouth tugged up.

“Yeah. It’s just, I remember how scared I was on my first big job.”

“I’m not scared,” she insisted, back to frowning.

“No? Then you’re a braver soul than I am. I was scared shitless.”

“Really? Carlisle never said.”

“Because he doesn’t know,” Emmett laughed. She didn’t know a sound could be so warm. “I held it together pretty well. But when all was done, he dropped me off at the corner of my block, and I waited for his car to disappear before pukin’ my damn guts up all over the sidewalk.”

She was the one laughing then. She leaned her head against the window as a silence fell over them.

“Okay, maybe I am a little worried,” she said quietly. “Time seems to be dragging by. Esme told me to leave if they’re not back within forty minutes. I obviously don’t want to have to even think about doing that.”

“Of course, of course,” he said. “Honestly though, I’m sure she said it as a precaution, and they’ll be back to ya in no time. You haven’t seen your parents in action. Let’s just say I’m glad I work for them, because I’d hate to be against them.”

“Thanks,” she said again, more sincerely this time.

“And it’s okay to be scared. It’s completely normal. The people who are never scared— those are the mad bastahds you gotta watch out for. Because you gotta be batshit crazy to never know fear.”

“Carlisle’s never scared,” she smiled.

“Well, there ya go, see!” Rosalie could hear the smile in his voice, too. “Case in fuckin’ point!”

She found herself laughing again. It came so easily to her when she spoke to him.

“I better get goin’, letcha get back to it.”

“Okay,” she said. “And thanks, Emmett. I think that helped.”

“No prahblem,” he said again.

“Unless Esme and Carlisle did put you up to this, in which case, no it didn’t.”

“I swear’ta gahd, Rosie, neither of them even know. I had to get your number from Alice.”

Rosie. He had picked that up from Carlisle. It was strange how much she’d come to like a nickname she initially detested.

“‘Kay. Well, thanks again.”

“You have my number now, too,” he said, sounding suddenly serious. “I’ll be right here at the other end of the phone, anytime you need me, ahrite?”

“Does that include if in twenty-or-so minutes’ time I have to decide whether or not to leave my long-lost parents for dead?”

“You betcha.”

“Great!”

He laughed. “Take care, Rosie.”

“Bye, Emmett.”

She hung up the call and resisted the urge to check the timer just yet. A new-found calmness had come over her, and she wanted to bask in it a little while longer.

“Is she beating him to death?” Carlisle whispered up at his wife as she reached the top of the stairs to the Ivanov’s second floor. Alice had been right, they ran into no extra bodies on their way in. And though she was several states away, she had disarmed the entrance’s security with ease.

“No,” Alice answered with a sigh before Esme could. “I think that might actually have made for easier viewing.”

“Don’t be such a prude,” Carlisle quietly teased.

“I’ll have you know, this isn’t your average spank session,” Alice scolded.

“Well now I’m curious,” Esme said, straining to listen. “Is this somethin’ I’m gonna wanna take note of?”

“Ugh, knowing you, probably,” came the answer in her ear.

Esme looked back to smirk at Carlisle.

“Damn,” he muttered. “Shoulda brought a pen.”

“I’ll take mental notes,” she promised.

“And if that fails, you can use the notes my therapist will have taken after I’ve word-vomited all this to her while rocking back and forth,” Alice announced.

Carlisle took his place beside Esme at the top of the stairs and slipped an arm around her waist. The long hallway ahead of them was windowless, its red and gold-patterned wallpaper interrupted by the occasional closed door. Still, it was brightly lit by the two massive chandeliers that hung from its high ceiling. To their left was the unit for the elevator. Carlisle waved at the little CCTV camera above it, prompting a laugh from Alice. Behind them was another set of stairs that led to higher floors they wouldn’t see. The Persian carpet that stretched the length of the hall floor would come in handy to muffle their footsteps.

“Up ahead, the second door on the left is the kitchen,” Alice told them. “It’s got a pass-through and an open plan door to the living room, so be careful.”

“‘Kay,” was all Esme dared to respond as Carlisle let her go. She crept forward.

The pair of them silently edged along the wall, the voices from the living room growing louder as they got closer. Esme stopped at the kitchen door and brought her pistol up to her chest. The pair of them concentrated on the voices inside.

“Alright, swap,” Katarina said. “It’s my turn to rest.”

There were two thuds, and then her voice mingled with a man’s as both began chant-like muttering. Esme couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Carlisle tapped her on the shoulder. When she looked at him, he mouthed, “praying?” with a confused frown.

She paused to listen and confirm, then nodded. He was right, though it left her no less confused. The muttering stopped, and there was some shuffling of feet. The sounds of slapping and groaning resumed, but this time they could tell Katarina was the receiver.

She nudged him and put her gun-free hand on the door handle. With his nod of approval, she slowly pushed it down and opened the door at an acute angle.

“You’re all clear here,” Alice told her, but she gave a quick glance around it anyway to get her bearings. The kitchen was reasonably small for such a big house, and it looked as though it had been home to a frat party. Mess, clutter and countless empty bottles of Absolut Vodka littered every surface. The pass-through was a few feet ahead on her left.

Tip-toeing inside, she immediately grabbed her other gun so she had one in each hand. Both of them made their way to the side of the pass-through as Garrett was saying something about Christ. They hunkered down, then crawled under it, and shimmied out of their heavyweight coats as quietly as possible.

Esme was about to rise slightly up when Carlisle touched her arm. “Only shoot if you have to,” he mouthed slowly so she’d get every word.

The two of them rose and peeped through together. Esme had been right; Garrett was sat on a chair with Katarina bent over his legs as he repeatedly slapped her backside. Still, he mumbled about “the Lord” this and “Jesus” that. Esme looked at Carlisle quizzically.

“Feel the hand of God,” Garrett suddenly half-shouted in comparison to his previous volume. “Who has the most lovin’ hand of all, Kate?”

“God, through you,” Katarina answered him.

“What the fuck is this?” Carlisle breathed, just about audible. “It’s like watchin’ Barbie get an exorcism.”

Esme pressed her lips together to contain a laugh, mentally cursing him. With Katarina’s long blonde hair and baby pink Adidas tracksuit, he wasn’t far off the mark.

“It’s called CDD,” Alice informed. “Short for ‘Christian Domestic Discipline’. The whole religion thing stumped me too when I saw them praying, because like, they’re not even the same religion, right? She’s presumably Orthodox and he’s gotta be Catholic. Anyway, I googled ‘pray spanking’ and found that. Apparently it’s a movement that started as like, a ‘women are inferior in Christian marriages and should treat their husbands like God himself’ thing, but naturally, it got turned into a kink.”

The two of them exchanged a look again and sank back down to their hunkers. Carlisle gestured out their route around the corner of the wall they were now up against and through the open plan door. He pointed to her and made a finger gun, then pointed to himself and pulled out a rope from one of his coat pockets. She nodded once and rounded the corner with her guns raised right as Garrett’s head looked in that direction.

“Don’t move,” she warned, one pistol aimed at his head and the other aimed at Katarina’s.

They both froze, his hand mid-air. Esme stalked closer as Carlisle moved behind them.

“Off the chair,” he commanded. “And putcha hands behind your head.”

They did as they were told and knelt on the ground. Carlisle patted Garrett down and began tying him while Esme came to Katarina’s side. The blonde swallowed tightly. When Carlisle was finished with Garrett, he moved onto her.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch her,” Garrett said as he patted, making Esme smile. As if he’d be able to stop them with his hands and feet tied.

“Whadiya take me for?” Carlisle asked. “I don’t hurt women.”

“Mhmm,” Esme agreed, tracing the side of Katarina’s face with the tip of her pistol. “This one’s all mine.”

Garrett helplessly flopped in Esme’s direction from his place on the floor.

“Easy now,” Carlisle said, finishing up with Katarina and moving to crouch down beside him. “I said I wouldn’t hurt your girl, and you repay me by goin’ for mine?”

Garrett stared blankly ahead. Carlisle tilted his chin up with his gun to meet his eyes.

“It wouldn’t be the first time you double-crossed though, would it? There was our Kiev deal, then the small matter of you murderin’ your own pal. Lettin’ his kid grow up without a father. What kinda person does that, huh? Ya know, I might be a lotta things. But I know where my loyalties lie. And I’d never betray a friend. Even people like us have rules, and that’s one of ‘em.”

“You wanna talk about the loyalty of friends?” Katarina piped up, prompting Esme to hold her pistol against her head. “You might want to look closer to your own circle.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Esme asked, her eyes narrowed.

“You haven’t wondered where the others are?” Garrett smiled. “They’re actually in your neck of the woods. Meeting with some of your buddies. Ironic really, isn’t it? You come all the way here hoping to kill Tati, only for her to be in your area.”

Alice gave a “hmm” as Carlisle’s eyes flickered to meet Esme’s, then settled back on Garrett’s face. Neither of them could tell whether or not he was trying to throw them, but both understood not to let him.

“We didn’t come here to kill Tatiana,” Esme said cooly. “Any single one ‘a yous woulda done. Instead we got two. I call that a success.”

“Do you?” Katarina cooed. “I wouldn’t be that confident ‘til all of us are dead. Especially if I had a daughter who didn’t know how to shoot.”

Carlisle felt the colour drain from his face. Esme immediately yanked Katarina down by the hair until her cheek hit the floor, then placed a knee on her back.

“What the fuck does your family know about my daughter?” She growled into her ear. “Tell me everything you know and how you know it.”

“It’s hardly a secret,” Katarina said, the words muffled against yet another Persian rug. “You’ve been paradin’ her — what’s her name, Rose or something? — paradin’ her all around New York and Jersey. Don’t tell me you didn’t think people would notice?”

“I hear she’s real pretty,” Garrett added. “And you know us bunch, we like our blondes.”

With that, Carlisle began relentlessly punching him. Garrett’s groans sounded different to how they had sounded in the hallway. Here, he was getting to know much less loving hands.

Esme pulled at Katarina’s hair again. “Tell me who told you about my daughter.”

“No.”

She shifted so she could better aim for Katarina’s kneecap, then shot it. The blonde let out an agonising scream, which woke Carlisle from his blind rage just long enough to look up and spot a marble urn on the fireplace.

“Tell me who told you about my daughter.”

“Fuck you,” Katarina moaned, writhing in pain.

Carlisle got up and grabbed the urn, dumped whatever ashes were inside into the fire pit, and made his way back to Garrett.

Esme flipped Katarina over and shot her other kneecap. Another ear-piercing scream blocked out the sound of Carlisle beating Garrett with the urn.

“Tell me something. Anything about what or how you know.”

Katarina simply whimpered. Esme pressed her foot against her knee, but the scream that followed was feeble. She would soon pass out from either blood loss or pain.

“You’re not gonna tell me anything?”

Katarina barely shook her head. Esme sighed and shot her between the eyebrows.

Carlisle was sitting still and staring at Garrett when she made her way over to him. “Is he dead?”

He shrugged.

She picked up the urn from the floor and gave Garrett’s body several extra beats to be sure.

“Is now,” Alice said quietly. Neither of them laughed.

Carlisle rubbed at his temple while Esme sat back beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“They know about Rosie,” was all he said.

She nodded.

“Guess there’s no goin’ back now. Even if she wanted to, there’s no way she can go back to the life she had.”

“No,” Esme agreed.

“I get it now,” he mumbled, more to himself than to her.

“Get what?”

“I think...I’m finally worried.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Alice awkwardly cleared her throat.

“Alice, what they said about our friends—” Carlisle started.

“I won’t say anything,” she said before he could finish. They both trusted that. If Alice was a betrayer, they’d already be dead.

“Thanks.”

He closed his eyes for a few seconds before standing up. Esme didn’t like seeing him so uneasy. He was her comforter, so if he needed comforting, things weren’t good. But he did need comforting, and as his person, it was her job to do so.

“Alice, could you mute us for a while?” Esme asked as she got to her feet. “And turn off the living room camera? We need a minute.”

Alice hesitated. “Alright. But watch the time, for Rose’s sake. And I’ll mute you, but don’t mute me in case I need to warn you about unexpected visitors elsewhere in the property.”

“Thanks,” Esme said.

“Okay, I can’t see or hear you now. So if you need my attention, go to another room.”

Esme tugged Carlisle’s arm. “Help me move the bodies out of this room. I want it to be just us.”

He looked at her with confusion, but did as she asked.

Rosalie stared at the numbers on her timer. Forty-eight minutes and fifty-three seconds, and still no sign of her parents. Her free hand drummed at the steering wheel the way her fingers had before they left.

“C’mon, c’mon,” she muttered at the windshield. She felt her eyes start to well up and blinked furiously.

“Fine. An hour,” she promised aloud to no one, in attempt to settle herself. “We’ll hang on ‘til it’s been an hour.”

She glanced back at the timer, but a noise made her look up again. There the pair of them were, running towards her, open coats flapping in the wind. She exhaled with relief and started the engine. The headlights lit them up as she drove forward, giving her a full view of them. Both were covered in blood splatters.

“Thank god,” she cried as each of them swung open a door and hopped in the back.

“Hey, Princess,” Carlisle greeted her as she sped off.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Esme chirped. “Thanks for waitin’. Sorry we’re late.”

Rosalie frowned. Her tone was...strange. In the rearview mirror, she found the two of them staring at each other dreamily. Then, she registered Carlisle’s messed hair, and realised it wasn’t a tough fight that had delayed them.

“You assholes!” she seethed. “Do you have any fucking idea what ran through my mind?! I thought you were dead! I thought I was gonna get myself killed waiting around for two people who’d never come, because they were dead!”

“Sorry,” they said in unison.

“That’s it? You scare me into believing you’re dead and all I get is a simple sorry?”

“You were scared for us?” Esme sounded pleased. Rosalie rolled her eyes.

“You’re right,” Carlisle added. “That was selfish. Worry isn’t a nice feelin’. And a simple sorry isn’t all you get for it. We’ll head down Fifth Ave once we’re home if you like.”

She did like the sound of that, but she didn’t want him to think she could be easily won round. “Fine,” she said with a sigh.

“Oh and Rose?” Esme asked.

“Yeah?”

“We’re teaching you to shoot.”

[adorethedistance]

Unbiased Source - Actress!Reader x Owen Patrick Joyner

JATP masterlist

Words: 2149

Warnings: Swearing, I think that’s it (?) it’s very tame

Summary: Grabbing sushi with friends is a joy but especially when they strategically sit you with your crush, and you talk about embarrassing moments, first kisses, and falling on stage.

A/N: This is the sequel to Say No to This, but it can also work as a stand alone fic for the most part. Thank you to everyone who read the last part and left such sweet messages on the post, in the tags, in my messages, everything! It means a lot to receive support for doing something I love.

After splitting up rides and deciding who’s riding with whom, all the members of dressing rooms A and B made it to the agreed upon sushi restaurant in our land-locked state. Eden tried to pull some tricky bullshit and get Owen alone in a car with me, but things didn’t work out that way. Probably for the better. I’d be so nervous that I’d start driving like an idiot.

In the parking lot in front of the shop, I lock my car behind me and place my keys inside my bag. As I approach the restaurant entrance, I see none of the group is waiting outside.

“Did they not wait for us?” I turn around to see Owen tucking the keys to his car into his pocket.

“I guess not.” Stepping in front of me, he opens the door to let me in first.

“After you.”

“Oh, thank you,” I smile shyly. Slipping past Owen, we enter the dimly-lit restaurant, searching for our friends. They’re all located against the back wall of the room at a long, rectangular table; the only open seats are in the middle of the table, directly across from one another. Sighing, I turn to face Owen in mild dismay.

“Do you want to crawl into the booth, so I can have the chair?” He doesn’t seem very keen on the idea.

“I’ll rock, paper, scissors you for it?” He quirks a sheepishly optimistic brow. I roll my eyes before securing my bag against my body.

“This is so juvenile.”

“Do you wanna just go ahead and crawl in?” he challenges. I narrow my eyes in response.

“Do you do ‘shoot’?”

“Yeah.” Primed and ready to go, Owen and I chant together,

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.” Owen chose scissors, and I smile in triumph as I fortunately picked rock.

“Best of 5?” he flashes his teeth in an awkward smile after I pretend to crush his scissors under my rock.

“Get in the booth, pretty boy.” His smile turns genuine but I can tell the teasing remark has embarrassed him by the way his face flushes pink. Approaching the table, Owen is still embarrassed as he crawls into the empty space in the booth next to the guys. Somehow, we’ve managed to put all the boys in the booth and the girls in the chairs. It seems like a happy accident, but I know better. This is purely Eden’s doing so that Owen and I would be forced to sit together.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Becca sips her drink playfully, to which Eden adds on,

“Hope you don’t mind, we grabbed our seats first.”

“Mhm. Yeah, that’s real fuckin’ funny, Eden.” I place my bag across the back of my chair. “How did we manage to sit in our character couples?” I comment on the seating arrangement of Owen with me, Lucas with Becca, Brad with Dawn, and Devin with Eden.

“Oh are we? I didn’t even notice,” Dawn solidifies the fact that the six of them are much acting stranger than usual. Owen and I spare our friends a glance of playfully knitted brows, but upon meeting eyes and taking notice of our identical expressions, we break into a fit of sincere giggles. Then, our waiter arrives and sets menus down in front of each of us before taking drink orders.

“Oh, they only serve full rolls,” I accidentally announce to the table and subsequently lower my voice as a result, “I don’t think I’m gonna eat the whole thing and sushi is not meant to be leftover.” I say to myself, skimming the menu for a smaller portion of food to no avail.

“I’ll split one with you,” Owen softly offers from across the table. His volume is lowered to talk directly to me, but our friends quiet down as well to hear our conversation. Noticeably so that Owen begins to blush, and I come off more defensive than intended.

“Can we help you?” I swear they’re acting like actual middle schoolers. The group backs off, and we all place our orders accordingly. I tried to get Owen to agree on a specific roll but he simply told me to order what I wanted and that he’ll eat whatever. After taking our orders and menus, the group then enters into a conversation about tonight's rehearsal.

“Can we talk about how I almost ate shit on my entrance tonight?” Rebecca says while opening her chopsticks.

“Singing as Velma Kelly is hard enough, and Dina put me in 3 inch character heels for what?”

“At least you didn’t fall all the way off the platform like I did.” “Okay, that was on the first day of blocking, Dawn. That’s not the same caliber as the last rehearsal before opening night.”

“Well I beg to differ-”

“Hey, that brings up an interesting question. What’s your most embarrassing moment?” I ask the table which silences Dawn and Becca’s bickering. Everyone seems hesitant either out of embarrassment, shyness, or careful consideration.

“I’ll go first, since I don’t have many regrets and you all seem to be grasping at nothing,” my overconfident demeanor pulls a small laugh from Owen’s lips. A delightful sound I aim to be the reason behind again and again.

“When I was in my senior year of high school, I went to a music shop with this guy I had a crush on. It was like a small family owned business kinda feel, and they had this wall of CDs. And he was a huge music buff, but I didn’t really know anything, so I spent most of the time just listening to him talk about music. He’s going down the aisle explaining the different vibes of the music, so he’s like ‘this is stoner music’ and ‘this is the kind of music white people use for dinner parties’ and kept going on and on.

So, he gets to this one CD and says: ‘this is the kind of music that people fuck to’ and it caught me so off guard I turned bright red in the middle of the store. I was hoping he wouldn’t notice but he saw and totally made fun of me for it. I was absolutely mortified!” the entire table erupts into laughter at my misfortune, and I’m glad to break the ice of whatever awkwardness that was lingering from rehearsal.

“Yeah, I definitely don’t have any stories like that,” Dawn laughs through her words.

“That’s pretty good, but I think I’ve got you beat.” “Oh?” I raise my eyebrows at Owen’s challenge, which launches him into a full story.

“It’s my first kiss story. I think I was a Freshman in High School? I had met this girl at the movies and we were watching something really stupid, I don’t remember what, I was not into it. But I stuck it out to be a good boyfriend. So, we leave the theater after it ends, and we’re standing out front waiting to be picked up just talking. Then we get to the whole ‘I had a great time’ routine and I can tell she was hoping I’d kiss her. So I decided to go for it… but I didn’t know you were meant to like, turn your head a bit. So I just went straight in and we bumped into each other so hard, I made her nose bleed.” My jaw drops in shock and I try to conceal my growing smile.

“I’m not laughing I promise,” I lie through shallow breaths before giving in.

“How forceful was that movement that you made her nose bleed?!”

“I don’t know how we did it, but it was awful I felt so bad.”

“But that begs the question, Owen...” Eden begins mischievously, “...have you improved since then, or have you retreated into celibacy for eternity?” I laugh along with the rest of the group, but secretly hope for an answer. The tip of Owen’s tongue darts out to cover his lower lip as he forms an answer.

“I haven’t ‘retreated into celibacy’ but whether or not I’ve improved is inconclusive.” “What the hell does that mean?” I take a sip of my drink following my snarky question.

“Well, my opinion is biased since it’s in my best interest that I improved.” The teasing nature emanating from Owen’s words is comically intense, but I stand my ground regardless.

“It’s in your best interest?”

“No he’s right, Y/n,” Dawn breaks the stream of tension between me and Owen. “He is biased, which means… for accurate results the information has to come from an unbiased source.” Owen and I exchange a glance of confusion and bite back our lingering smiles.

“Meaning what exactly?”

“Meaning the only way to tell if he’s improved is to ask someone who has kissed him recently.”  My lips part in realization; my cheeks grow hotter than the surface of the sun at Dawn’s conclusion. All eyes at the table are centered on the two of us.

“So tell us, Y/n. Has Owen improved?” Suspense looms over the entire table. Before I can say something against my better judgement, I deflect the situation entirely.

“Well, I didn’t kiss him back then so for the most accurate results it’d have to be the first girl, right?”

None of my girlfriends are pleased with the response, but they let it go thank god. I was hoping they could read my hesitance for what it was.

“But at the very least is Owen a good kisser?”

“...Alexander is an excellent kisser, but whether or not that’s also Owen isn’t something I can factually confirm.” I’m playing interrogation dodgeball out here, someone help me!

My prayer is answered as our waiter returns with the first trayful of plates. Everyone has their food with the exception of a few soy sauce dishes, and we begin to sporadically eat among our playful chatter.

We talk some more about first kisses, performance fails, and the entire rehearsal process before the waiter returns and tries to break up the bills accordingly. As he comes to the middle of the table, I reach into my bag, fishing around for my wallet. Just my luck that it’s my turn and it’s buried under all the shit in my bag. Before I can even open my wallet, the waiter has moved on from standing behind my chair, and I look up in confusion.

Upon seeing him swipe Eden’s debit through the tablet’s card reader extension, I turn back to the table before connecting eyes with Owen. He’s slipping his card back into his wallet before tucking it back into the pocket of his jeans. He shoots me a reassuring wink.

“Owen, you can not just let me choose whatever roll I want to eat and then pay for it, too!” I nearly whine in the middle of the restaurant. He shrugs wordlessly as if to say ‘I don’t see why not’ and takes one last sip of his water as the group begins vacating the table.

We all file out of the sushi shop, but I decide to hang back a tiny bit to walk with Owen, creating a little distance between us and our friends. Reaching into my disaster of a bag, I retrieve a pack of gum and take a piece before offering one to Owen, saying,

“Do you have a Venmo?” Accepting the gum from my smaller hand, Owen shrugs again before laughing through a toothy smile. I roll my eyes in an unconcealed moment of frustration.

“How about this,” he stops us right outside the restaurant, but barely within earshot of our friends. “Since you’re so desperate to pay me back, we’ll get dinner after tomorrow’s show. Sound good?” The sly bastard with his nice hair, and his dumb pretty face, and his pearlescent smile.

“I’d agree but something tells me you’re not gonna let me pay for that either.” He laughs harder, and smiles just that much wider.

“Am I really that transparent? Whatever, tomorrow’s a new day which will erase your debt. I’ll pay for dinner and you can cover dessert, yeah?”

How Owen is being so bold tonight is truly stunning, especially for how shy he’s been in this entire rehearsal process up until now. I don’t want to give in, but I also don’t want to lose the chance to spend time with him.

“Fine, but dessert has to be more expensive than dinner.”

“You are so stubborn!” “Uh huh. And what else do you like about me?” Owen shakes his head with furrowed brows, but he can’t conceal his unyielding grin,

“What do you mean? I don’t like you at all.” I pretend to be offended and nudge Owen off balance with my right shoulder. It’s his turn to feign offense before knocking me off balance as well.

“Do we have a date or not, Mariah?”

“It’s a date, Alexander.”

***

JATP taglist: @caitsymichelle13​ @kaitlyn2907​ @itz-jas​ @crybabyddl​ @kcd15​ @kinda-really-lost​ @calamitykaty​ @morganayennefertyrell​ @n0wornever​ @yikesgillespie​ @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ @thesweetestsinner​ @imsydneywalker​ @lovesanimals​ @thebloodthirstyvampress​ @bumbleberry-pie​ @losers-club6​ @dmcfarland1​

[adorehs]

12/12/12

Here’s my spooky-ish Harryween fic (a day late, which I apologize for!) This is one million percent not proofread and definitely very rushed and for that I am sorry. 

Summary: Detective!Y/N has trouble cracking Suspect!Harry. But he seemed to have cracked her. (4k words)

Warnings: violence at the end (this includes blood), mentions of death and murder, angst if you could call it that. I am probably missing some but PLEASE do not read this if you are not comfortable with the themes that are portrayed above.

They tried to pin a murder on him, little old Harry who couldn’t swat a fly. Not in his right mind, anyway. 

He was quite confused when they called him in with the intent of asking him questions regarding the night of December 12th. He doesn’t remember anything about that night at all, in fact. He was seemingly blackout drunk in the corner of his best friend’s apartment with a bottle of vodka in his hand and a hat fell on his face as his mouth fell open and soft snores fell out as everyone around him danced into the early morning. 

December twelfth. 

The day his mom died, the day he tries to forget every year, the day he takes off from work, the day he does everything but think.

He sat silently in the room- the walls a bleak grey and the lights dim. There were no windows except the small piece of glass that sat at the top of the textured door and in each corner of the room there sat a small security camera that followed Harry intently. 

His fingers tapped in a calming rhythm of threes and his leg bounced lightly in anticipation for his interrogation. His eyes darted from his hands that were splayed out in front of him to the camera directly across from him as he leaned father back into his chair and stretched his legs out fully. 

He let out a sigh as he sat in silence- he was bored and ready to go home. It was an utter waste of time in his mind- there was nothing he could give away. He wasn’t there, as much as he could match the description of a white male with brown hair with a few extra inches off the top of his head. 

The door squealed as it opened, a woman scurrying in with a folder of files in her arms and a navy pantsuit hugging her figure as she sits down at the table across from him, “Hi, Harry, I’m Detective Y/N Y/L/N,” her hand reached out calmly to meet Harrys. 

He watched her as they shook hands and he pulled his hand back and folded it into his harm, “Uh, just to be clear, there’s a microphone right there,” she gestured across from her where his hands once rested, “It’s quite small and you should refrain from putting your hands over it, unless you want to come back for a day of interrogation,” she chuckled softly. 

Harry nodded silently as she continued to stumble through her opening lines, “There are cameras in each corner so this is being recorded. Do with that as you will,” she sighs before opening her file and sitting up straighter than before. 

“Well, uh, Harry, I appreciate you coming in today. I know it’s a bit harder with cases like this… we try to refrain from declaring someone as, uh,” she paused to find her words. 

“Mhm,” Harry hummed in understanding. 

“As not being alive until we have evidence that they’re not, so we uh, we’re treating this case as an emergence.”

“Absolutely, yeah,” Harry commented with a small frown falling onto his face. 

“Okay so, uh, we’ll be fast forwarding through some details that we would finalize later and we will have this be a bit more thorough of an interview so we don’t have to keep calling you back again,” she trailed off into silence. “Theresa read you your rights earlier and I just want to reiterate that you can walk to the lobby if you ever feel uncomfortable and I will treat you with respect and have the same expectation for you.”

“‘Course,” he nods in understanding. 

“So uh, would you agree that there is a, a connection, uh geographically, with you and your mother Anne’s death and her, uh, supposed murderer Russell Williams?” 

Harry’s face fell slightly, “Uh, sure, yeah, geographically,” he was in a state of shock. He didn’t expect his mother to be brought up. 

“Alright so to be quite frank, uh, that’s a bit of why you were more of a suspect- matched the description from Miss Canaue, uh, Mr. Williams’s neighbor, and uh, your obvious connection with the man,” Y/N informed the man before him. Her eyes met his for the first time since she walked in and he appreciated the contact. He nodded as a response, urging Y/N to continue. 

“So, uh, let’s backtrack. Why did you miss work on the tenth? Your log reported you called in as sick, is this true?” 

“Yes, that is true. I had been getting over a stomach bug that weekend. Called in sick to finish my recovery,” Harry confirmed. 

Y/N nodded in confirmation, “And had you contacted your doctor because you had felt, uh, sick that weekend?”

“Not necessarily,” Harry trailed off, “I called so I could have him prescribe me more promethazine… but besides that, I did not speak to him about my symptoms.” 

“Alright,” Y/N glanced at the file that was open before her, “Were you bedridden for the majority of that day?” 

“No, I went to the grocery store that night and I picked up my prescription from the pharmacy round the corner from my apartment,” Harry explained. He stretched his legs out further, a nervous tick he had developed when in school. Y/N’s demeanor intimidated him- he felt his body trying to move at every opportunity to create distance between himself and the woman before him. 

“And do you remember the route you took to the grocery store?” Y/N asked with a slight quirk in her eyebrow. 

Harry’s brows furrowed at the odd question, “Probably went down Main Street and went to the Publix off 86th. 

“And you’re aware that Mr. Williams lives off of 86th?” 

“Sure,” Harry nods. 

“Alright, and I’m assuming you’re unaware that Miss Canaue saw a man with a similar appearance the night of the tenth?” Y/N’s eyes watched Harry’s carefully as he decided his next words carefully. 

“No, I did not know that, but I go down that route every day. Don’t see how that makes me a suspect.” 

“Yes, but you were sick,” Y/N pressed. 

“Yeah, had a bug,” he repeated. 

“Right, so you were sick and left your apartment once- possibly twice- that day and still managed to be around his home?” 

Harry let out an obnoxious groan and ran a hand over his face, “It’s the fuckin grocery store off the largest street here. If that makes me a suspect better get everyone who has brunette curls,” he argued. 

“Harry you’re not the only suspect. And you’re not on trial.”

He let out a scoff at Y/N’s ironic comment, “Yeah but if you don’t believe me, I will be,” he said, “Falsely,” he muttered. 

-

It was a wonder that he hadn’t taken up the offer to leave whenever he felt uncomfortable considering Harry was repeating a string of curses towards the poor girl in his mind like a mantra. 

He had been sitting in the uncomfortable fold out chair for two hours and Y/N’s posture has deteriorated significantly in their time- though she was just as scary as the first moment she strode into the room. 

Harry was deciding if it was the confidence that surged from her body or if it was the navy pantsuit she wore that made her seem like a lawyer going into the courtroom with a billionaire- she just had a way about her that screamed power and Harry loved it- he was intrigued and distracted by her, though he also wanted to shove her out of the room. 

“Mr. Styles?” she asked with a sharp tone, “On the twelfth you were out partying?” she asked, confused. 

Harry nodded, “Correct.”

“Then why did you take off work?” 

“It was the day my mum- Anne died. Take it off every year and go to my best mates house. He throws a party and I get drunk.”

“Mr. Horan, yes? He’s a suspect as well,” Y/N mumbled. 

“What did he get too close to 86th? Is it because he’s embracing the natural brown of his hair? Told him he should’ve stayed blonde,” Harry snapped back. He was impossibly tired and more than ready to be headed home- he didn’t do anything- that he was certain of. 

Y/N’s eyes trace her file and slowly find Harry’s, “If you don’t want to continue you are more than welcome to come back another day but I do not appreciate the tone you are using. You are not on trial and Mr. Horan is not on trial. We are just trying to find information.”

Harry’s eyes diverted quickly. He felt like he was being scolded by his mum after getting a bad grade on a math test; ‘It’s not my fault my teacher sucks!’ he would defend.

“It just seems like I’ve been here for ages and we aren’t getting anywhere- am I really just a suspect or are you lot convinced I’m the murderer of another murderer?” 

“It seems you have strong feelings towards Mr. Williams and it seems as though we are not reaching when we assume you had something to do with it- whether that be hiring someone or doing it yourself we don’t know,” Y/N sighs out. 

She uncrosses her legs and folds her arms above the table. Leaning into her own body, she comments with just low enough of a volume to be deemed seductive, “Am I incorrect with my assumption, Mr. Styles?” 

Harry mirrored her body language, “Extremely. I had nothing to do with this. Wasn’t even conscious.” 

“Am I incorrect in my reasoning?”

Harry takes a long pause knowing he has to choose his words carefully, “No but that reasoning can be applied to far too many people for you to make a definitive conclusion.” 

Y/N tuts softly while reading over her evidence, “Alright fair enough.” She maintains eye contact with Harry for a short moment before putting the papers back into the manila file folder. 

“What’re you doing?” Harry perks up, straightening his posture and pushes his chair back slightly.

“We have been going in circles for two hours. I think we are in need of a break, no?”

“Uh- sure yeah,” Harry left a pregnant pause before he spoke again, “Do you- uh- do you want to get food?” 

Y/N stood from her chair with a relieved sigh. She checks her watch before looking at Harry, “I think that’s a conflict of interest,” she sent him a soft smile. 

“What if we just conveniently end up at the same restaurant?” Harry asks, “Then maybe our tables are right next to each other so we just decide to sit at the same table to save space.”

Y/N lets out a soft chuckle and glances at the microphone that sat at the table. Harry eyes the microphone and stands up, his jacket dropping on top of it. 

“I’ll be at the café down the road in ten minutes- please don’t be late,” Y/N whispers. Harry sends her a smile before nodding slightly and picking up his jacket, making his way to the door, leaving in a hurried motion. 

Y/N smiles to herself before following him, leaving at a leisurely pace. “We’ll be back in an hour, Theresa. Keep the room open, please.”

-

Y/N was purposefully vague with her location- she didn’t know if he was just fucking around or if he genuinely wanted to have lunch. So, she settled on telling him it was a café- one of four that was down the road from the station. She said not to be late so she knew that if he found her, he was being serious. 

It was an odd precaution to take, but she was not going to allow Harry, a supposed murderer, seduce her into relieving his suspect status. She was careful and calculated for that reason. She wanted to ensure that he wasn’t using her in the many ways he could.

Y/N was a beautiful woman and Harry was not blind to that. She sat prim and proper and wore clothes that fit her body just right. Her face, though seemingly free of makeup, seemed to be the most attractive one he’s seen in ages- though he would never let that slip. As much as he could deny his involvance with the case, he was a suspect and getting lunch with his interrogator is all too suspicious to begin with. 

“You found me,” she smiled once she saw Harry’s curls in her peripheral vision. 

“Honest to god, it was the first place I looked. And I used to come here all the time. Food’s the best,” he said, settling in across from her. 

She looked up from the menu she held in her hands, “Used to?” 

“Am I still under interrogation?” Harry asked while setting his coat across his chair. 

“Are there still cameras here?” Y/N countered. 

“Probably,” Harry shrugged, “You can never be too sure.” He nodded in appreciation as a waiter passed him and handed him a menu of his own. “I stopped coming when my mum passed. We would come here for brunch every Sunday with my sister. Haven’t really been here all too often in the past few years.” 

Y/N hummed in understanding, “Makes sense. I only come here after a long shift. Not exactly my favorite place to eat but it’s close. And good enough.” 

“What do you mean not the best,” Harry’s jaw dropped dramatically. 

“What have you not been to the diner downtown? Maybe three blocks from here?” 

“Uh, no?” 

“Well that’s why this is sufficient for you,” she jokes, “Nothing compares to that place.”

“What does it have sentimental value to you?” 

“A bit. Used to go there all the time when I was in school. I did everything there- studied, talked,” she paused, “ate.”

“Yes, the most important. Eating.” Harry countered. 

“Okay, so what do you recommend from here?” 

“Well, for breakfast, I’d say the tofu scramble, for lunch I’d order the meatball sub- marinara and melted cheese of course,” Harry looked up at the girl in front of him to see she had a wide smile.

“Of course.”

“For a snack I’d get any pastry- they have new ones all the time so I just try what sounds good. They’re always unbelievable. And for dinner,” Harry hums while scanning the menu, “For dinner I liked the french onion soup,” Harry concluded. 

Y/N’s face scrunched together in disbelief, “French onion soup? God, you are crazy.” 

“I’ll be honest I don’t like it from anywhere but here. It’s just done so well,” Harry confesses.

“I won’t take your word for it. Sorry,” Y/N says, “But I will try that meatball sub. Can you order for me? I don’t know what exactly to say,” she trailed off, her lower lip jutting out slightly with that request. 

Harry hummed a yes before getting up to fulfill the request. Y/N’s eyes followed his body diligently. He walked with a sense of purpose and carried his body easily- it was almost scary to the girl who sits across from his empty seat. What was his purpose?

He stood watching the chef make their two identical sandwiches in a comforting silence. He was taken back to his youth where this was a regular occurrence- watching the older man as he puts the subs under broiler so the cheese could melt just right- something he always found fascinating. He could probably make the sub from memory after watching it be made so many times. 

He nodded in appreciation, paying for the subs in exact change before bringing them back to their table, “Two meatball subs with melted cheese and marinara.” 

“Of course,” Y/N smiled, beginning to eat the (surprisingly) amazing sandwich. 

-

Harry ended up going back to a station for another hour before leaving back to his studio for the night. He had a great lunch with Y/N and was filled with a lifetime of regret for not getting her number. He knew if he called the station for it, the call would be recorded and she would get in trouble. So, he was stuck. 

It was less than a day since their last meeting and there he was, sitting in front of a bare wall with his eyes locked on the texture that could be seen over the white paint. He found himself in a fit of fury with himself- maybe he should say he has more information so he could see her again? But he knew that wouldn’t bode well for the case.

He had no way to contact her, but then again, he wasn’t in a position to speak to her outside of the case anyway. He was still a suspect and she was still his investigator, even if she was a funny, uplifting girl who he had found himself thinking about constantly. 

The only way they could make contact would be if she went into his file to find his number, or in other words, their reconnecting lies on the flimsiest threads. And that devastated the man. 

He was apprehensive to go out drinking again. He always seemed to black out; not remembering a single detail from his previous night's adventures. But, he found that not remembering was the key to getting over the girl in the navy pantsuit, so he decided to forget.

He had gone out with Niall, going bar hopping for a few hours before Harry couldn’t stand anymore and he passed out in a bar bathroom. Niall was busy with a girl he had seen when he walked in so Harry was alone. He felt the world revolving around him as he laid against the bar countertop with his head on his arms. 

Y/N didn’t notice it was Harry when she walked into the bar. In fact, she didn’t even see him. His back was slumped over his body and the poor guy seemed to be out of his mind. It was a wonder that she had a feeling she knew the man. 

She stood next to him as she asked for a scotch on the rocks with a twist- her usual. She glanced at the man a few times, trying her hardest to not be rude, “I’m sorry, is he okay?” she asked the bartender who just shrugged in response before moving to another customer. 

Y/N let out a frustrated sigh before gently bringing a hand to his shoulder, “Sir?” she called to him. 

He let out a few grumbles before moving his head up slightly, “I’m alright,” he slurred together before dropping his head back down. 

“I don’t think you are,” she muttered to herself before sitting down in the seat next to his, “Do you have someone who can take you home?”

“I have two working legs.”

“I don’t think they are working very well tonight,” she chuckled at him. 

He groaned before moving his head to look at the girl who was sitting next to him, “My friends somewhere ‘round here,” his eyes shut even tighter than before.

That’s when Y/N recognized the man who sat next to her. Her eyes widened in realization, “Harry?” she asked in shock.

Harry’s eyes opened instantly at the sound of his name. He let out a sigh when he saw it was just Y/N. “Thought I heard my mum’s voice. Don’t do that to me,” he tells her. 

“Why are you here?” she asks as Harry sits up. 

Harry paused before answering, “I have my reasons.”

Y/N chuckled, “Well alright. I’m going to head out. Stay safe tonight, Harry,” she told him.

Harry was quick to reply, “Wait!” he called after her.

Y/N turned around, slightly unimpressed with his timing, “Yes?”

“Can I- can I get your number?” he asks, his syllables hardly pronounced. 

Y/N glanced at her friends who were off dancing before looking back at Harry, “Sure,” she responded. 

Harry’s face was quick to become one of pure excitement, looking exactly like a kid in a candy shop, “Alright,” he fumbled a bit while handing her his phone.

It was routine for Niall to be gone into the night with a random girl- truly it was routine for Harry to be gone too. But, he had a change of heart recently so he began wandering the streets on his own before finding his way home in the depth of the night.

He wasn’t fully sure of where he was going but he knew he would find his way back eventually- just an overpriced uber ride away from his home. He began by walking to his mother's grave. It wasn’t a new thing that he did but it hurt just as much each time. He would go sit with her and grieve silently as the night washed away from him.

Old habits die hard and there he was at the graveyard’s entrance looking to see if anyone was there. It was three in the morning but he knew the night was just beginning. People were still out and people, alike from Harry, were grieving. 

He sat there at his mother's grave for a while, his thoughts racing. He felt as if he wasn’t in control of his own body. The whole world was speeding by and his legs carried him in circles around the town, always leading back to the graveyard, as Harry’s brain was extremely detached from his actions.

That probably explains why what he did next was so shocking to him. 

He wasn’t fully conscious- he couldn’t tell you anything that has happened since he left the bar. Harry was out of it. That was a fact. He stood at his mother's gravestone, a knife in hand (the one he kept hidden under a pile of slowly rotting flowers that he would bring once a week). 

He stood to his full height when he saw the headlights approaching the lot next to him. Out stepped a young man white rich, red hair. He was tall, taller than Harry, and he had a devastated look on his face. 

Harry guessed the man was in his very early twenties. He looked like a university student who got to go off campus for the weekend. There seemed to be another person in the car but it was hard for him to see properly, ‘If I can’t see them, they can’t see me, right?’ he told himself.

Harry watched the man approach a grave a bit farther from where he stood. He waited exactly two minutes before walking towards him with a sinister smile masked on his face. 

The man’s eyes flickered to Harry’s before going back to the grave, “I’m sorry for your loss,” Harry speaks lowly to the man. 

He looked directly as Harry and mustered up a small smile before his eyes widened in realization. Harry’s hand made contact with his chest, the knife slicing through his body readily. The color of the crimson blood made him grin- he felt justice when he saw the blood oozing off another human: first his mum, then her murderer, and now an innocent. 

Harry was very satisfied, ready to walk back to his home and wash the blood off his hands, quite literally, when he heard a few footsteps crunching the dead leaves that had fallen on the ground in the dead of winter. 

And that’s when he heard her angelic voice calling out his name. He could only imagine the expression on her face while her voice, as smooth as honey, called out to him, “Harry?” 

He turned expectantly to the woman he had grown infatuated with, “Hello, Y/N.”

[willsimpforanyone]

I have a request and it's perfectly fine it makes you uncomfortable to write and you don't want to. But a teen!reader x the Avengers maybe she is from an abusive family and Tony snaps at her about something while the Avengers are around and she says "please don't hit me" and then the Avengers comfort her it can turn into a Peter Parker X reader if you want it to but it could be platonic and that'd be fine. Again if you don't want to write this I understand.❤👍🏾💜

wow, a heavy topic, but i can give this a go and try to do it justice.

obviously, trigger warning, mentions of abuse, panic attack description

It wasn’t Tony’s fault. He was just having a bad day, he probably didn’t sleep much. He didn’t mean it, I know he didn’t. It was probably me. 

It’s just, I woke up nervous. No real reason, I was just anxious about how the day was gonna go, my hands shaking slightly as I got dressed. My favourite hoodie was in the wash, so I had to wear a purple one that drew slightly too much attention for comfort.

The post-it note I’d stuck on my mirror was still there, reminding me to breathe, that today was gonna be fine; but the words looked fake, just ink on paper with no real meaning. My reflection didn’t look like me, it looked like the person I... used to be, before I was taken in by the Avengers. Nonetheless, I took a couple deep breaths before I left my room, trying to steady my hands and calm my heart. JARVIS took me by surprise, making me jump about a foot in the air. 

“Excuse me, are you quite alright?” His voice was calm and monotonous, and I relaxed slightly.

“Uh, yes, thank you JARVIS. Just a little... off, today,” I whispered, not quite managing normal volume today. He hummed, sounding like he didn’t quite believe me despite being an AI. “Really, I am. Just tired, I guess.” I was more trying to reassure myself than JARVIS, but it seemed enough for him to not say anything else, just open the door to my room to make it easier for me to leave. I smiled slightly, having a fondness for the AI.

The door looked somewhat like a mouth today, but I pushed that thought away as much as possible. Setting tiny goals was the method of coping today, and the first couple goals- get out of bed and get dressed- were complete. The next goal was to get breakfast.

The stairs were a bit of a challenge, with me being shaky this morning, but I got down them and was greeted with ‘good morning!’s and and smiles from Thor, who’d popped in last night, Natasha, who was only halfway through her coffee so her ‘good morning’ was slightly groggy, and Peter, who didn’t look like he’d slept at all. I gave them all a half-hearted smile, and made my way to the cupboard to get a bowl for cereal. 

I was about to get the cereal from the line along the kitchen counter when Tony walked in. He looked awful, not even responding to the various hello’s we offered him. He took a mug from the cupboard and practically slammed it on the counter, and I flinched. I glanced around, no one seemed to have noticed except from Peter who gave me a questioning look. I ignored him and continued to pour cereal and then milk. I tried to focus on the sound of the cereal but when Tony brushed past me to get to the coffee, the hair on my body stood on end, and despite the hoodie it was if I could feel him without him touching me. 

That was unnerving. Tony is usually very aware of my personal space, he acknowledges that sometimes I don’t wanna be touched. If he wasn’t paying attention then something must be wrong. I hardly realised that he’d tugged open the fridge until he slammed it shut. I let out a tiny squeak, panic rising in my chest. I saw a hand in the corner of my eye- it was Peter’s, trying to get my attention. I smiled weakly at his concerned expression, and picked up my bowl to move it to the centre island. In my anxiety, I must have not noticed Tony coming my way, and my bowl collided with his chest. 

“Oh for FUCKS sake,” he yelled, looking at my breakfast all over his shirt. He was angry, he was angry at me, oh fuck I’ve made him mad, look at what you’ve done now you’re gonna have to leave he’s gonna throw you out you’ll have to go back to your parents you stupid fuckin-

Tony raised his hand, and I was overwhelmed with panic.

“Please don’t hit me...”

Everyone stopped.

They looked, wide eyed, at my cowering form. Tony was frozen, his hand still raised- to reach the tissues on the shelf by his head. My breathing was shallow and fast, and a ringing was starting in my ears. I only just registered being pulled out the room by someone and being sat down on the sofa. It was Natasha, having instantly sprung into action and taking me away from the distressing situation. 

Her hands were holding mine as she tried to steady them. She spoke more softly than I’d ever heard- “Hey, it’s okay, take your time,” her voice was steady, calm, comforting. “No one’s upset at you, just focus on my voice, okay? Can you squeeze my hands if you understand?”

I lightly squeezed her hands and she smiled. “That’s good, well done. Now I need you to do something for me, alright? Can you name five things you can see?”

My breathing was still fast but my eyes scanned the room. I was barely audible as I said “You. Rug. Table. Hoodie... Peter.” Natasha turned slightly to see Peter lingering in the doorway, a worried expression gracing his face. She nodded for him to come in and turned her attention back to me. 

“Now list four things you can feel.”

My lungs weren’t burning quite as much. “Your hands. My hoodie. The sofa. My hair.”

“Three things you can hear, you’re doing so well kroshka (little one).”

I could feel my heart slow down slightly. “Your voice. My voice. Peter’s feet scuffing the floor.” That last one made Nat laugh lightly and squeeze my hands again reassuringly. 

“Peter, come sit on the other end of the sofa. Now, two things you can smell.”

My hands were steadier and my inhales and exhales were more regular. “Your perfume, and that weird candle thing that Thor lit last night.”

“One last thing, tell me one thing you can taste.”

“That after-sleep mouth taste, y’know, when you haven’t brushed your teeth yet?”

Nat grinned “I know what you mean. Feeling better?”

I took a shuddering breath, but smiled. “Yeah I do. Thanks Nat.” She nodded, getting up and looking pointedly at Peter, gesturing to me. He nodded and turned to me.

“Can I hug you? You look like you need a hug,” he opened his arms out to me, and I shuffled up the sofa, ending up lying on his chest with his arms wrapped around me. “There, isn’t that better?” 

I giggled, nodding my head. Peter was silent for a while, before saying, “You know he didn’t mean to scare you, right?”

Sighing, I closed my eyes. “I know, it was probably my fault, I should have looked where I was going.” 

“No,” Peter looked down at me. “It was not your fault. He may not have meant it but he did scare you and he should have been paying more attention. I’m sorry, but anyone with eyes could see you weren’t having a good day, despite the hoodie you hide under.” He playfully tugged at the sleeve of the hoodie and I swatted at his hand. 

“Young one, how are you?” Thor’s voice was significantly quieter than usual as he walked over to the sofa. I smiled at him, and he seemed satisfied. Surveying the room, he spotted his weird candle thing and his eyes widened. “I have reason to believe that the gift I brought from Asgard has played some part in this situation. I should have realised that such a thing could affect mortals in a negative fashion. I shall remove it immediately.” 

I was about to protest when Peter whispered in my ear. “Just leave it, let him help.” I giggled and buried myself deeper into his chest as Thor carefully picked up the candle thing and held it at arms length.

“Never fear, I shall vanquish the cause of this,” he paraded it out the room as Peter and I laughed at his performance. 

There was a light cough at the door, and we sat up to see a guilty looking Tony standing at the door. “...can I come in?”

I took a deep breath and smiled at him. He carefully stepped into the room and sat down, balancing himself on the coffee table by the sofa. “I’m so sorry,” he started abruptly. “I know that doesn’t really make up for it. I shouldn’t have yelled, I know what... how you react to that kind of stuff. I’m not gonna make excuses, I take full responsibility for my actions.” His hands were in front of him, clasped tight, and I reached out and placed my hands on his. 

“It’s okay Tony, I know you’re probably stressed, you look like you haven’t slept in a week.” He smiled weakly. 

“I haven’t, really. But that’s still no excuse. I promise, I’ll work on going to sleep, I can’t bear the thought of me being the cause of a panic attack. I’m sorry, I didn’t think of what you would think with my hand, I just... I’m sorry.” He got up to leave. “There are pancakes in the kitchen, Nat thought you’d want them instead of the cereal.”

I smiled at him, and as he made his way to the door I stopped him.

“Hey, Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Love you.”

“Love you too, kid.” Tony vanished from sight.

Peter stood up. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I need pancakes. You?” He held out his hand. 

I grinned, took his hand, and stood up beside him. “Absolutely. Let’s go.”

______________

not quite what you requested, but i tried to include some avengers? i really hope you liked it, i’m not sure angst is my strong point 😅thank you so much for requesting! <3