#I know Brock's is a bit longer but he does have a lot of stuff assosiated with his part

[ghostchanuwu]

Some context for this au :)

I want to add on a bit more about the FoundFamily!Au on how/why Misty and Brock joined Ash and Gary on their journey

Misty finds Ash and Gary after having a particularly nasty run in with a flock of Spearow (plus a Fearow) trying to get to Viridian's Pokecenter but ending up taking a wrong turn leading to them both falling into the river that lead to Misty's campsite.She tries her absolute damndest to get both the boys and their pokemon (Eevee and Pichu) back to safety along with dodging Rocket Grunts patroling after hearing reports of Mew in the area but is able to get them to the Pokecenter in one piece.It wasn't even 2 hours after making it there that Rocket decided to break in (Jessie and James of course) along with a couple other grunts yelling about needing to "Take the Oak kid,he knows where Mew is",Misty is able to fight all of them off with the help of Joy (all Nurse Joys in this AU have mons for self defence) and realizes "Oh my god these two aren't going to get past Viridian Forest at this rate" and decides to join them acting as a mentor and a guardian being 4 years their seinor.

Brock on the other hand was found by Ash & Co via Gary sitting on what he thought to be a boulder but turned out to be a part of Onix's tail (she's a B I G snek) which got Brock's attention and oddly enough led to him apologizing and insisting that he was careless for leaving Onix out in the open like that (all three of them were slightly wierded out over his reaction),Ash eventually asked about the Pewter Gym and were he could find it and Brock of course giving directions but Misty did notice how quiet he got when mentioning it's Leader thinking it was a bit odd but figured it was because of his timid demeanor.After suffering quite brutal loses to the Pewter leader Ash and Gary decide to train near the waterwheel they found earlier that day and coming across Brock again who turns out was utilizing the abandoned shack by it as a shelter letting it slip that he's actually homeless.The boy's training was sped up signifigantly (week long period of time) with Brock and Misty assisting which resulted in Pichu evolving and both Pikachu and Eevee learning iron tail via Onix's teachings.During this time Brock let it slip once again that he used to in fact be the Pewter Leader but was forced to leave,Misty tried asking why he had to which caused Brock to completely freeze up and change the subject before she caught on (Gary asking about the braces around his left arm and ankle but got no actual response outside of "hiking accident").

The next day Ash and Gary won and got their badges but right as they were leaving they brought up the previous Leader and how they were actually trained by him which of course sent Flint into a rant about how "there's no way that failure could've contributed anything to your training" and "he should've been gone long ago",Ash and Gary were of course pissed off because how dare he insult their friend like that and at that moment Misty and Brock (who is absolutely terrified of being spotted) are both of course seen by Flint who just goes off saying "oh well guess the reject is back" and letting everything out about how Brock was kicked out and barred from his Leader position and that there isn't a damn thing that they can do about it.Misty now getting EXTREMELY pissed knowing how much work it takes to become a leader and is also a bit confused on how Brock was even barred in the first place absolutely lays into Flint (and not noticing that Brock had actually ran off after what his father had said).Ash & Co eventually find Brock near the waterwheel trying to stave off a panic attack (and some oddly harsh nervous tics) and asks if he wants to go with them,at first saying no but then quickly coming to terms with no longer being safe there decides to go with Ash's group for his own sake (and physical health not really being able to care for himself anymore),after going to the Pokecenter for one last checkup on the group's pokemon (and Brock making sure that he's able to travel plus picking up his allergy and pain meds) they leave Pewter never looking back.

[pokemon-ash-aus]

Hey, I just finished reading your fanfics for the genderfluid au. Great stuff, love how Miho blackmailed her uncle G.

I was just wondering, how and when did the other travelling companions found out about Ash/Miho?

I know Brock knew basically from the start but Misty wasn't informed about his/her/their situation yet. I'm kinda curious about the later companions to.

Honestly the Genderfluid AU is very everywhere for me but i do have better going for it uwu

Misty finds out in the Orange Islands, right befoee the Johto trip. She gets suspicious when Ash sort of leaves by himself and finds out then and there.

As his best friend, she goes to Tracey and basically tells him a story of herself and if he can't acceot it he's out.

Thats around the time that Ash finds out Misty is Trans and was too scared to tell Brock or himself.

Tracey doesnt have gender identity issues but they find out that he's Aromantic and doesnt really understand Relationships.

Gay lil trio they are.

The other companions findnout with time, especially as Ash grows more confident.

In Unova, Kalos and Alola, he sort of scuttles back a lot, and has to relearn how to be opennwith himself. He can't depend on Brock or Misty, he's got to do it on his own.

It helps a lot when they Meet Cynthia and Dawn again in Unova, and Dawn provides that crutch.

For Kalos, it's actually Bonnie that finds out first when she demands Miho take care of her brother. Miho offhandedly mentions that she takes care of him very well- and while that slips both Serena's and Clemonts notice, Bonnie picks up on it incredibly fast.

Like a kid, it takes her a bit to understand bt when she does she doesn't mind at all. She likes when Miho does her hair and when Ash braids it. Though, Bonnie does spill when Clemont and Serena are curious on why Ash and Miho never meet. She's just so surprised people would hate them just cause they're who they are.

Serena... Serena is great, though it takes her a lot longer to understand and she has to battle against her own homophobia (Being raised primarily in Kanto was not good for her). But when she and Miho are stuck together, she slowly understands and starts to explore herself. Realizing that- hey- she doesnt actually like boys, and she likes Girls instead.

Clemont is easier, a scientific approach on how most transgender people are and he accepts it fairly well.

In Alola, it just takes some time is all. Ash wants to make a good impressions, especially since they dont want to leave Alola.

All does go well :3

Journey's is one i havent thought of tbh, but thinking about it now, Nonbinary Goh and Genderfluid Ash make such a powerhouse friend group. Both of them making sly jokes to each other that if any other person made they would shut them down fast.

Goh: Ah- yes, i identify as a toaster today

Ash: So do i gotta wait for you to go bing to gimme my toast?

Had a Cis person told them that, it would have been disgusting. But they know they get along well.

Fun fact, Goh told Ash almost immediately that they went by They/them pronouns and if Ash didn't like it then he could leave.

Ash: Oh thank Mew, i didn't know how to bring up my pronouns with us being raised in Kanto.

Goh is abrasive and loud and with his pronouns, he doesnt care what anyone else thinks. (Sadly, that's why he only has Chloe as a friend)

[annab-nana]

Stay With Me - Colby Brock

When tagging along with the boys on a trip to London, you experience some crazy things when you’re alone in your room at the Langham Hotel.

@traphousedaily’s favorite snc series project with: @lonely-xplr, @sarcasmhadachild, @taradummy @reddesertcolbs, @reinad-snc, @cartiercolby, @colbylover99, @sunflowerwhoever, @xplrtrash, @goddess-of-time-and-magic, @xolbyz

A/N: This is my longest fic I have ever written, so if you like the longer fics, let me know! Also, this probably isn’t the best edited because I tried to get it out in a hurry so sorry about that haha

Warnings: some curse words; mentions of suicide, murder, and suffocation

Word Count: 4.6k+

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

“We’re going to England, brothas!” Sam shouted which was followed by excited squeals and scream from you, Jake, and Corey as Colby clapped beside you all. When you went to the party at Kian and Jc’s, you were not expecting your best friends to come up and surprise with such news. You giggled as you watched Corey prance around, saying “Oh my God” repeatedly, and Jake spew absolute nonsense of connecting Queen Elizabeth to Bloody Mary.

“Pack ya bags. We’re going to London, baby!” Sam spoke enthusiastically before covering the camera lens that Colby was holding with his hand. And from there, your crazy adventure with the boys began and you hand no idea what you were in for or how badly it would end.

...

After your suitcase was packed and you had your backpack on, you were ready to go to London. You were so excited to see a new place and considering you have never left the country, this was a whole new experience for you. After a ride in an uber and a plane, the five of you arrived in the capital of the United Kingdom.

“Are you guys gonna be safe driving on the opposite side of the road?” Jake questioned as we walked through the parking lot of cars.

“Oh,” Sam and Colby say together, though Colby’s ended with a ‘my God’.

“I didn’t even think about that,” Colby added as he walked backwards, facing the camera towards us.

“Look at the steering wheel, brotha!” Jake pointed to the steering wheel of a black car in front of you all and the wheel was in fact on the opposite side.

“Oh no! How are we gonna do this?” Colby questioned as we all looked at the car, thinking the same thing as the boy with reddened locks.

“I don’t know my right from my left,” Sam spoke in a horrid British accent that you could not help but laugh at.

“Alright, you’re gonna drive,” Colby told his counterpart as you playfully rolled your eyes.

“Okay,” the blond sighed in defeat.

“This isn’t looking good,” you spoke to the camera that Colby held as you two watched Sam try to pull out of the parking spot. He already nudged Jake with the car and then tried to turn right when you can only go left. After a bunch more tomfoolery from the group, you all finally moved your stuff into the car and got in as well.

“Alright boys so-” Colby started to explain what we were doing but was cut off by Corey clearing his throat.

“And girl,” he scolded as he nodded his head in the direction of you.

“No, Corey. Y/n is one of the boys,” Jake butted in.

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult,” you chuckled before turning your attention back to Colby so he could continue his explanation.

“Anyway, this is what we’re doing. We’re going to the Langham Hotel which is known as the most haunted hotel in the UK.”

“And also top ten in the whole world,” Sam added.

“Wait, are we going there or staying there?” Jake asked beside you. Your eyes followed from his to Colby’s to see his answer.

“Staying there.” Your eyes widened slightly as you looked at the two boys beside you. Corey giggled nervously and made jokes to hide his fear and you and Jake just laugh in disbelief.

“In our last series, The Origin, we talked to those guys like a demonologist and he says we’re a lot better at paranormal investigations than normal and he thinks we have a gift. So, this whole trip is trying to prove that our group is the best ghost hunters on YouTube and because of that, we are meeting with two paranormal experts who’ve been studying the paranormal and demonology for years and we’re doing an interview here in an hour,” Sam explained.

Jake appeared to be really excited to the right of you and on your left, Corey stayed quiet, which led you to believe he was kind of scared and trying to hide it. You felt a mix of both the emotions of the boys next to you. You were excited for the adventure like Jake was, but also a little scared like Corey since y’all were going to one of the most haunted hotels in the world.

...

“Hey, there it is,” Colby announced to you three in the back and the camera that he had pointed at the building before you guys.

“The Langham!” Sam shouted as he kept his eyes locked on the road, still trying to get used to driving on the other side of it. You all pulled up the hotel, got your bags, and headed inside in no time.

“So, we have a reservation under Golbach,” Colby started as he spoke to the man at the front desk.

“We put in a request. We don’t know if it was able to be fulfilled, but we’re trying to do room 333,” Sam asked the man in the grey suit, a maroon tie and handkerchief to compliment it. You and Corey shared a look after Sam mentioned the number 333, both knowing it did not sound good.

“Absolutely. You have been allocated in that room,” the front man told y’all and Colby turned to you three with an excited grin which you returned. The man at the front desk noticed your group’s excitement and smiled along with you.

“We heard online that room 333 was like haunted or something like that?” Sam mentioned, hoping to get some information from the clerk.

“Is this why you have the camera?” He grinned as he processed the transaction.

“A little bit, yeah,” Sam chuckled.

“There is the legend, yes,” he told you all as he focused on his work.

“Have you heard anything about that?” the blond pressed again.

“We can’t tell guests,” the clerk starts with a smile, but the grin soon drops as he nods his head. Something about the way he did that made you feel a bit uneasy.

“Do you believe in it personally?” Sam questioned as you all listened intently to what the man had to say.

“No. In one year that I’ve been here, I didn’t have any complaints and so on, but you can tell me. Just stay there with the camera, yeah?” he laughed as you all joined in, trying to relieve the awkward and weird tension.

...

“My name’s Sam. This is Colby, Y/n, Jake, and Corey. We’re filming for our channel, but these guys are always into it and woah.” Sam turned the camera to the large creak you all just heard coming from above him and Rosie, the lady you had just met who is a member of the ghost club. John, a guy from the council for the Society for Psychical Research, sat next to her. You sat on the couch nearest to him between Colby and Jake and Corey sat on the chair next to Sam across for you.

“We just rented out room 333. We haven’t even told them why that’s a significant number, but do you guys know much about room 333 here in the Langham Hotel?” Sam asked, filming the response from Rosie.

“Well, the story goes that a Victorian doctor spent the night in room 333 with his bride. It was his wedding night. Who knows the circumstances, but the story goes, he actually murdered his bride in room 333.” She pauses as y’all take in the information she had just given before she continues.

“So, fast forward now to 1973 and the journalist James Alexander Gordon was staying room 333 where he’s waking in the middle of the night and he said he saw a fluorescent ball of lights that slowly formed into the figure of a man, but there was something strange about this man. He was dressed in a full evening suit, very smart, but the bottom half, his legs, were actually missing. Now the journalist actually tried to speak with the figure, but the figure didn’t speak to him. He just walked towards with his arms open wide.”

“A famous cricketer, he was staying at the room and in the middle of the night, he was woken by the sound of taps turning on. He went into the bathroom. Water was gushing out through the tap.”

“Woah,” all of you say collectively as you think back on what happened to the boys previously. You didn’t go with them on that trip, but you heard the story several times and watched the video too. Sam fills in the woman in on the experience briefly before she can continue with her story.

“Anyway, he turned off the taps, went back to the bed, what he could hear was still the sound of running water, gushing out even though the taps were turned off.”

John nods along before speaking about a theory that ghosts are like a tape recording of traumatic experiences that just play over and over again. He explains that you can’t really interact with it because it’s always going on a loop. The theory piques the interest of the group to say the least.

...

After finishing the interview and exploring a bit of the beautiful town you were in, you all gathered around the camera as Sam gave some background on the hotel. He tells you all about a German prince who jumped from the building out the window and how the doctor from earlier killed his wife and himself afterwards, both stories happening in room 333.

Soon the camera is turned off and you all pile in the elevator to head to the third floor. The whole hotel has an unsettling vibe, especially with some weird and creepy paintings that are hung all around. There is a big one of a boy with creepy eyes right when y’all get off the elevator.

“Which way is room 333?” Corey asks a worker when y’all get to a hallway and do not know which way to turn.

“Oh… uh… room 333… it’s that way,” he speaks, dragging out each word and shuffling away in a weird fashion. You and Corey share a wide-eyed look before going to catch up with the rest of the group.

“This is the most haunted room in the most haunted hotel,” Colby tells the camera as he films Sam who is about to unlock the dreaded door. The key does not work on the first try or the second which scares you all, but thankfully, the third time’s a charm.

Sam pushes the door open to reveal the supposed haunted room. A bed sat in the center of it, a closet to the left and a desk to the right. Huge grey curtains covered the window and another door was next to it, which you assumed to be the bathroom.

“It smells like old people,” Jake mentioned. “You know what that means? That means its haunted, bitch.” You and Colby giggled at the beanie boy as Sam and Corey were off in the other corner of the room. Colby mentions how tiny the room is as Corey says how that one of us could be standing where someone got murdered.

“Oh, we got three rooms. There is no way we can all share this bed,” Colby mentioned.

“Where are the other rooms at?” Corey asked as he stuffed his hands into his new hoodie that he got earlier when we were going around the city.

“Just down the hall,” Colby told him.

“Oh, so still on the most haunted floor,” Corey rolls his eyes and nods, accepting the fact that something bad might happen tonight.

...

You all left room 333 and headed to 324 where Corey and Jake would be staying to check the room out. Your room was next door, 323, and looked remarkably similar to 324. After exploring the rooms, y’all take on the hotel in its entirety, passing more creepy paintings and experiencing a door closing behind you without anyone around it, several vortexes, handprints on mirrors, immediate temperature changes, strange noises, and so on. The thing that freaked you out the most was Sam getting random headaches as you explored.

Back in room 333, you guys sat on the bed and Sam explained all the new ghost hunting gadgets they got, from the EMF reader to the dowsing rods. Sam says that with the dowsing rods, you can find basically anything you want.

“Anything?” Colby questions as he picks up the rods.

“Alright, where’s my girlfriend?” he asks and both rods point to you almost immediately. A blush scatters on your cheeks as you laugh it off.

“See guys, even the rods think you two should get together,” Jake tells the camera. Colby ignores the awkwardness between you two as he asks Corey how to effectively use the rods.

Y’all decide to begin the investigation, starting with the EMF reader. Corey brings it close to the hangers that made a noise and it moves up one green light. It lights up to orange in a few places on the right side of the bathroom which freaks you all out and y’all decide to set the EMF reader up in the bathroom since it got the most activity. You all put together that the bathroom is the only spot in the room that has a vortex and that it is exponentially hotter than the bedroom.

While Sam and Colby messed around in the bathroom, you, Corey, and Jake stayed in the bedroom to see if anything would happen in there while the cameras weren’t running in there at the moment.

“If there’s anything in here, can you please make the bed shake?” Jake asked into the air above him, trying to get whatever was out there to make the bed shake like they did earlier. At the moment, he was laying on the left side and you were on the right. Corey was next to you in the desk chair. You guys waited a moment for any responses and then you got one.

“We’re here,” you heard the raspy low whisper come from the closet.

“Please tell you heard that too,” you begged as you sat up, pulling your knees to your chest to comfort yourself. Corey nodded profusely in the dim lighting as Jake audibly answered ‘yes’. Corey dashed to the bathroom door to tell the other two.

“Hey, you good?” Colby asked you quietly as the other boys discussed what happened. Your eyes left the trio before meeting the blue ones that gave you such peace. He had placed a comforting hand on your back, his thumb rubbing it to soothe your nerves.

“Yeah, just freaked out. This place has been giving me an uneasy feeling all day, but I’m good.” You smiled up at him and he gave you a grin right back, one big enough for those adorable little dimples to pop out.

“Bro, if you guys lay on the bed, you will feel something with you,” Jake told Sam and Colby. You stood off the bed, allowing Colby access to lay on it. He handed you the camera, which you handed to Corey because you were not the best them and your hands were slightly shaky.

“When I was laying with him, we could feel it shaking,” you told the duo as they sprawled out on the mattress.

“You should turn off the light,” Jake told Corey and he did. It was just you five in the room alone with the darkness and all who inhabit it.

“Do you guys feel the bed shaking at all?” Corey asked, his voice right next to you.

“Maybe, barely,” Colby’s voice sounded in front of you.

“If the German prince or the doctor that killed his wife is in here, please shake the bed,” Sam asked nicely of the spirits that are presumed to be in the room with you guys. After a moment of silence, a stunned ‘woah’ fell from Sam’s lips.

“What?” Corey questioned as you heard him fiddling with the camera. “What? Bro, I can’t find the light.” Sam grabbed the green light grid thing and turned it on to provide you all with some sort of light.

“I felt it go back and forth,” Sam told us all as he kept his eyes on Colby to see if he felt anything too.

“You felt it? I don’t know if I’m feeling anything,” Colby sounded a little disappointed like he wanted to feel what you, Jake, and Sam had felt.

“It literally rocked bro,” Jake told the camera and you nodded your head in agreement. You all hung out in the bedroom, trying to figure out the green light grid and how else you all wanted to go about the investigation when Corey got a text from his little brother, Cambrey.

“Are you okay?” you asked Corey as he stared wide-eyed at his phone screen. The other boys turned to look at Corey to see why you asked him such a question when y’all were just chilling at the moment.

“Uhh yeah, Cam just texted me this: Hey so I just saw your new video and at the end of it when you were talking about in the part where y’all kept saying save me and you were wondering like what you should do, I just wanted to let you know I went to a psychic lady and she told me that I have powers to send ghosts to the other side lol. All I have to say is you are free to go to the other side and it helps them go through. I know this sounds really stupid but ever since I talked to her, I’ve been seeing giant black figures in my room every night and when I sleep, it feels like someone’s watching me.”

“What the fuck?” Sam comments as you all share looks between you guys.

“Wanna know what’s even freakier? Cam is fourteen right now and I was fourteen when I first saw the shadowman.” ‘Woah’s fall from the group around him as we take in the information and process what we’ve been told because it seems so surreal. You all talk about how to deal with this. Corey feels guilty and responsible for Cambrey possibly seeing the shadowman. You try to comfort him, but the heavy feeling that he is dealing with is something that you can’t help that much.

“Maybe it might be good if we call it a night,” Sam suggests to the group as you nod your head. Things are a bit tense right now and maybe just getting settled into our own rooms and stopping the investigation for now could ease it some.

“Let’s set our alarms for three or something like that, but I think it’s good to take a break for a minute and like relax and we’ll come back to this in a minute.” And that is exactly what you guys did.

“Are you gonna be good by yourself, y/n?” Colby asked before you left their room with Jake and Corey.

“Yeah, I should be but I might call you so that if I hear something, you might hear it too and so I don’t go crazy,” you chuckled as he smiled at you, the grin making butterflies flutter around in your belly. He nodded before you turned around and went to your room.

A sense of relief flooded your body when you walked into the room. You were still very creeped out by the hotel and the fact that you were on the most haunted floor of the most haunted hotel in the most haunted country in the world. You were happy you were no longer in the most haunted room, but the things that were happening in there freaked you out.

You went to your suitcase and flipped through your clothes until you found something to sleep in. You had packed mainly warmer clothes for sleepwear, but since room 333 was so hot and you were still burning up from it, you grabbed the one pair of shorts you brought and a tank top. You grabbed a hair tie from your backpack and went to the mirror, throwing your hair into a ponytail. After you brushed your teeth and got your charger out, you settled into bed and shot Colby a text.

Y/n: can I call you?

Colby: of course

“Hello?” you asked as soon as you hear the ringing stop.

“Hey, are you okay?” His voice sounds so concerned and it makes you smile.

“Yes, Colby. I’m fine. Can you stay on the phone with me until I get tired?”

“Yeah, sure.”

It didn’t last long until you were about to conk out, so the two of you said your goodbyes and you placed your phone down on the bedside table. Just as you were about to fall asleep, you swore you felt the bed shake. You do not know why you said what you were about to, but you did.

“If there is anything there, can you make the bed shake again please?” A moment or two of silence passes before it does it again. The bed wobbles lightly beneath you.

“Okay so there’s something here,” you whisper to yourself. You try your best to shrug it off and go to sleep. You almost slip into a blissful sleep before you hear a whisper similar to the one from before.

“You’re not alone, y/n.” You immediately grabbed your phone to text Colby. You knew he would probably be in a deep sleep by now, but it was worth a shot.

Y/n: the bed shook in here

Y/n: and I asked it to do it again and it did

Y/n: then it whispered youre not alone y/n

After not seeing the bubble with three dots pop up, you decide to let your phone record audio while you sleep just to catch anything that might happen and set an alarm from three in the morning. Finally, you get to sleep.

You woke up with a jolt, a sweat on your forehead and the bed moving slightly beneath you.

“You’re not alone”

“We’re here”

“Come with us”

The whispers filled your head as you watched an outline of a guy appears in the hallway near your door.

“Colby,” you call out as you sit up and rub your eyes.

“Sam? Jake? Corey?” you continue but not a peep comes from the man as he inches towards your bed.

“Seriously guys. Cut it out,” you chuckle, but he keeps coming closer and closer until he is right beside you. You reach a hand out to try to touch him, but your hand falls through his misty form.

“Whoever you are, please leave. You aren’t welcome here,” you demand, but your voice falters at the end. You hear a loud maniacal laugh vibrate throughout your small room as the figure crawls on top of you.

His presence is suffocating enough, but when a hand comes up to your throat and clamps down, it becomes difficult to breath. You fear for your life as you try to pry the hands from your neck, but just like his body, you can’t grab onto them. Your fingers slip through his and there is nothing you can do about it. Tears seep out your eyes and black spots cloud your vision before all you can see is black.

“Y/n! Open the door! Y/n!” you hear the worried shouts of your friends. You look around and reach for the lamp to turn it on. Looking around, you see that you are safe. It was nothing but a bad dream. You hand flies to your throat and when you feel that there isn’t a misty hand closing in on it, a sigh of relief leaves your lips.

You sling the covers off your body and run to the door. When you open it, you are met with the concerned expressions and worried eyes of the four boys you loved most. Your tear-filled eyes meet the specific blues ones before you step forward and wrap your arms around his waist, hiding your face in his chest.

“Are you okay, y/n?” Sam asks as he places a hand on your shoulder. You flinch at his touch unintentionally before muttering a ‘sorry’.

“You were screaming,” Jake added as he met your eyes.

“Really?” you asked, but based on how scratchy your voice sounded, you could tell it was true. “What happened?”

“Sam and I went to Corey and Jake’s room because Corey called us, but we heard you screaming and rushed over here. What happened to you?” Colby asked calmly above your head.

“Did you get my texts from earlier?” Colby nodded at your question. “I had a nightmare and the same whispers I heard earlier, I heard in my dream. And then this figure came up to me and try to choke me to death. I saw black and then woke up to you guys banging on my door,” you finished as the tears came back and you went back to hiding in Colby’s chest. His hand rubbed up and down your back comfortingly as he looked around at the other guys, unsure of what to do.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” you muttered into his chest.

“You can come stay in our room,” you heard Corey offer.

“Or ours,” Sam suggested.

“Can you stay with me?” you asked the blue-eyed boy as you looked up at him.

“Yes. Sam, can I have the camera? I’ll start looking through the footage and you can go to sleep since you couldn’t earlier.” Sam handed him the camera that he had hanging by him side before the other three left to go back to their rooms.

“Was I really screaming?” You asked Colby as soon as you sat on the bed.

“Like you were being killed,” he told you. You grabbed your phone and began to listen to audio recording you started earlier. It is mainly quiet for the most part, just your soft breaths and sounds of you moving in your sleep. Then, you hear the whispers again.

“Listen to this!” you shout as you hand the phone to Colby. His eyes widen at the sound.

“That’s what I’ve been hearing.”

“That’s insane,” He told you as he handed the phone back to you. You get all the way to the end and do not hear any screams.

“There’s no screaming on this.”

“When did it end?” You check and the time that stares back at you freaks you out even more.

“3:33 a.m.”

“Here. Let’s put this away because you have been through a lot tonight and just chill out,” Colby suggested as he placed your phone down and pulled you closer to him. You settled yourself into his side and placed your head on his chest. He had one arm around you while the other laid on his stomach.

“I’m sorry we put you through this,” he muttered as he fiddled with the bottom of his shirt.

“No, it’s okay. I have had a lot of fun this trip and I don’t want it to end early because I had a bad dream. That’s all it was,” you tried to see the bright side of it all.

“That makes me feel better because I really do love you, y/n, and I’d hate to see you not come on another trip with us or stop hanging out with us because of this.”

“I love you too, Colby, and it’s gonna take a whole lot more than a bad dream to get rid of me,” you both chuckled as a comfortable silence fell over the both of you. You fell asleep in the safety of his arms and right there, you did not have another bad dream that night.

[lovenhlboys]

From a Distance (E.Pettersson X Reader)

Chapter 4

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A/N: hello there!!! here is the next chapter, I'm so so sorry it took me so long, I was sick for 5 days and no feeling unmotivated, but I hope the others will not take nearly as long!! I really hope you like it and please LMK what you think!! And as always, thank you to my babe Ash ( @imagines-r-s ) for helping me with literally everything🥰💕💕

change in POV is signalized by:

Y/N= regular ELIAS= italics

(any other info is on the masterlist)

Warnings: lots of cursing, specifically excessive use of the word "ass", mentions of iCarly , I think thats it, if you think I missed a warning please inform me!!!

Summary: Brocks plan continues... more stuff happens

Word Count: 2.82k

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There was an awkward pause where, to you, it looked like Elias was thinking really hard about something.

“...wait,” he finally spoke.

“Yeah?”

“Okay, like a few weeks ago, we were in the hotel room and, you were upset with Marky because of the whole Gabe Landeskog thing,” he started.

You thought for a second and- oh, “Oh...shit. No. No, no Elias, I'm not having this conversation right now,” you knew exactly what he was talking about since that exact moment had caused about 3 panic attacks in the past month.

“You don't even know what I’m going to say,” he said with a little laugh at how you were reacting.

“Oh yes, I do.”

“Ok, Y/N wait just sit down.”

“BROCK,” you ignored him and got up, shouting at the door that you entered in about, hmm, yep, 5 years ago.

“Y/N,” he seemed like he wanted to talk when you really, truly did not.

“BROCK BOESER OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT FUCKING NOW,” you continued shouting at that damned door.

“Y/N...please,” he sounded sweet and calm. Which kinda calmed you down slightly, so once you realized Brock wasn't going to open that door any time soon, you sat back down on the couch next to where Petey was sitting. You sat a little too close at first, both of you looking into each other's eyes. Your faces were roughly a foot away from each other, as you looked in his eyes, you thought you saw a glimmer of something, something you knew he was seeing in your eyes. You snapped yourself out of it and pulled away, scooching yourself back about a foot. Right then, Elias reached for you and placed his hand on your arm. “Y/N, just...sorry. I was just going to ask what Quinn meant that day when he said ‘you really have a thing for swedes, huh,’” he tried to mimic your other American friend, his impression made you laugh.

You groaned and put your forehead on his shoulder. You stayed like that for a second, taking in his scent. Then you pulled your head back and started to speak, “Yeah, about that. Um, so, yeah, that-that thing, uh,” you cleared your throat.

“Are you going to say anything or is it just ‘um, yeah, so, um?’”

“Shut up” you giggled “I just never thought I’d have to say this to you,” you covered your heated face with your hands.

“Well, I always thought he was talking about Marky, but apparently thats not true. I just didn’t know you knew many other swedes.”

“...yo-,” you sighed. He didn’t realize what Quinn was saying, “oh my god, my dumbass brother is rubbing off on you. Ok, name the other swedes I know.”

“Well there's Marky, Oscar, Loui, Alex, and uh, Brock said you knew uh, Partick Nemeth and Johnny Oduya when you interned in Dallas during college. Oh, and Brock had mentioned you had a crush on Klingberg at one point, right?”

“Yes, but, uh- oh my lord,” you took a deep breath and tried to make sure you didn’t blurt anything out like an idiot would do, “I think you’re missing one.”

“What? Well, Nilsson before he got traded. And Brock was here when the twins were still playing, right?”

“Ok, Elias, you’re missing one person, one fucking person,” you were starting to get frustrated.

“I dont think I understand…”

“Ok, if you were to make it on team Sweden for the winter Olympics, Marky, and Landeskog too, ok?”

“Yeah?”

“Ok, who on that team would know me?”

“Well considering I dont know who else would be on that team it’s hard to say, but me, mark and Gabe would.”

“Ok, perfect. So that list of Swedes earlier was missing…” you gestured for him to finish your sentence.

“Oh, I’m stupid, I forgot myself,” you nodded and waited for him to process, it took longer than one would’ve thought but that's beside the point. His eyes got wide and his face turned red. He didn’t speak, you knew he knew now, but he wasn’t saying anything.

Shit, fuck, it’s exactly what you were afraid of.

WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK??? How did this happen, Elias is so completely and utterly stunned. Y/N Y/M/N Boeser had an actual, real-life crush on him? (God he feels like he’s in middle school again, freaking out about a “crush”)Ok, he’s definitely dreaming, that's the only thing he can think right now because he didn’t think this was a possibility. That’s when he realized, he hadn’t said anything yet, he’d just been staring at her with what he could only assume was an idiotic expression. He took in her expression, she was staring at her lap, her eyes wide, she looked tense, like she needed a hug.

Elias grabbed her and pulled her into his body, she tightened her arms around his waist and tucked her head into his neck. He could feel her heart racing, or was that his? He squeezed her tighter, trying to stall the inevitable. What was he supposed to say? “Yeah, Y/N I’ve had a massive crush on you, even before I met you in person. I’m pretty sure I might just be in love with you, sorry I never said anything. Oh, also, I can’t be with you because your brother and all of our friends would murder me.” Elias knew he wasn’t the smartest, but he wasn’t that much of an idiot.

Just then Y/N pulled back from the hug, looking much happier than before, her eyes met him and they both smiled fondly, just then Elias realized just how close their faces were. Shit, he really wanted to, he could feel her breath and his eyes flickered down to her lips. He unknowingly swiped his tongue over his, and she did the same and bit her lip ever so slightly. His heart was racing, she must be able to hear it. He leans in the slightest bit, to test the waters. To his surprise, she leans in the rest of the way and their lips finally connect.

It’s even more amazing than he ever would have imagined. Every nerve in his body is firing. He grabs her neck and they move together, in unison, and it's almost as if they’ve done this a thousand times before. It feels so easy, so natural, so perfect. He is by every definition, elated. He truly can’t believe this is happening. As he comes back to reality, he feels her hands siding up to his chest, she groans slightly as her hands settle on his shoulders. He slides his tongue across her lips and he can feel her shiver in reaction. They break apart for the first time, both panting into each other’s space, Elias is smiling bigger than he ever has. Their dilated eyes meet, he’s sure she’s probably noticed his flushed skin, his more-than-pale complexion doing no favors to hide it. Elias looks down and notices her smiling. Thank God.

She pulls back suddenly and speaks, “uh, sorry I just- um, I know you didn’t want that.” she stands up, “I-um- I’ll just-”

He touches her arm, making sure not to grab it. He doesn’t want to be controlling. “Hey, who said anything about me not wanting that” he was still smiling and looking up at her fondly, “trust me Y/N, I wanted that. I’ve wanted that for a lot longer than what you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have supposed that I may also have a “crush” on you too.”

“Fredrik? Are you going soft on me?” she teased.

“Ok, one: what is with you and my middle name, and two: I don't know if ‘soft’ is ever a word I would use to describe how I feel about you” he smirks, trying to mess with her. Which works as her expression clearly shows, her eyes widen and she looks away from him.

“Elias shut up, you’re such a douche,” though she’s grinning a little.

“Um, I don't know if you know what douche is, but if you want help, if you opened a dictionary, I’m pretty sure it would have a picture of Thatcher Demko, and Troy Stecher,” she laughs, there it is: that damn laugh. “You have the best laugh,” he says while giggling himself.

She smiles and looks into his eyes, purely beautiful as always. “Ok, well I will have you know, I like to call this a cackle” She eventually sits down next to him on the couch again, they’re facing each other, fully enthralled in each other’s presence. “Uh, so I’m not one to say these things, I have actually built up a reputation to explicitly avoid these conversations, but” she starts, “but- uh- what does all of this mean exactly? I like you, you like me, we kissed, I mean there’s obviously something here and I just- I guess, I’m not opposed to seeing where this could go, but you know, you could feel differently and that's ok-”

“Woah” he cuts her off as he’s laughing, “You’re rambling nervously, which is making me even more nervous than I already was, ok?” he placed his hand on her shoulder, “but I do have to tell you something,” this is where Elias took a pause and thought about what he should say, which he now realizes is a mistake due to how long it takes him to make decisions. But anyway, he had to decide if to tell you the entirety of the story, or to keep it brief and hope it comes up later at some point.

“Elias”

“Ah, yes.” he emerges from his thoughts, “so first I want to say that I also would love to see where this can go. I likes you-uh- more than a lot. But, I really have to figure something out before I can even think about doing anything with you, I just don't want to screw it up.”

“More than a lot, huh Fredrik?” you think about what he said. The fact that he felt the need to preface what he said with the fact that he also likes you and also wants to see where this can go, truly made you feel better. It felt like he wanted to make sure you didn’t misunderstand him, and that he didn’t want to hurt you. And obviously, you couldn’t let him get away with saying something like “I likes you- uh- more than a lot,” you did grow up hanging out with basically a shit ton of hockey guys, so you couldn't just let that slide. Plus, it was so cute how he said ‘likes’, instead of like, due to his language barrier.

“Yes, Y/N, more than a lot.” he rolled his eyes, “but is that ok with you, that I have to wait?”

“Yeah, that's fine. I mean as long as it’s not like a year, then that's fine,” you say, giggling.

“Oh god no, geez, not that long I promise. Maybe a month at most, I promise,” you both sit and laugh for a minute. You truly didn’t think he liked you, even as a friend, let alone as more than.

“You’re not going to go back to ignoring me, are you?”

“No, we can be friends until I figure that out. And I assume the reason we’re in here is that Brock thought I didn’t likes you. I mean he had mentioned it to me a few times but I obviously didn’t tell him why so,” he looked nervous, but you could see him try thinking of a way to change that. “ but hey, since we’re going to be friends now, your idiot brother will be pleased, and maybe he won’t lock us in a room again,” That makes you chuckle. You noticed that when you laughed, you could see Elias’s face light up, just a little bit, “I mean, not that it went horribly this time” and of course that made you laugh harder, which made him smile bigger. Then his face shifted a little bit, he looked more serious, “But hey, speaking of Brock, could you maybe not tell him, what we talked about in here?”

“Well, no shit. I wouldn’t tell him about this kind of thing on any day of the week anyways. He gets so nosey,” he looked relieved and smiled.

“Ok, so seeing as how we probably have some time to kill…” he grabbed a remote off of the table next to the couch and pressed a button. Then from the seemingly inconspicuous piece of furniture, a tv rose.

Your face was shocked, “I’m sorry, has it always done that??” you say, confused.

“Yeah. Y/N, you work here, how did you not know that?”

“Well I had seen a TV in here before but I thought they like took it away or needed to fix it or something, I didn’t know we had a magic tv in here!!” Elias laughed. “Wait, you waited till now to turn on the TV. we could have been watching TV this whole time!?”

“Yeah but then you wouldn’t have condensed your feelings for me.”

“Um, it was a mutual confession, jackass.”

Elias was smiling at your sass, “so what do you want to watch?”

“I know exactly what to watch,” you grab the remote from his hand and navigate to iCarly on the TV.

“Perfect,'' he says with a fond smile, and you both relax on the couch and watch the old nickelodeon classic. At this point, you both are sitting far enough apart so you look more like friends, just to make sure that if someone comes in, they cant think otherwise.

You watch 2 episodes and you are in the middle of the third when brock comes in. you both are laughing at spencer trying to tell everyone that a 13-year-old boy, Chuck, is torturing him, when you are both startled, “well you two seem to be having fun.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Brock,” Elias mutters, obviously scared from the sudden arrival of the jack-ass that you are forced to love and call your brother.

“Well if it isn't the champion of ass-facery, congratulations on the medal bro.”

“Ok, before you yell at me and hit me and tell on me to mom, it looks like it worked,” he says, gesturing to the two of you on the couch.

“Yes, it worked, he no longer hates me, blah blah blah.”

“Hey, I never hated you.”

“Suuuuuure,” you say, and you give him a wink only he can see, “well, either way-”

“Also,” Brock interrupts, “you technically did it to me first.”

“In fucking high school.”

“Y/N/N, high school was only 5 years ago. And technically should have been like 3 years ago for you but you went and graduated early so checkmate.”

“I think he’s got you there,” Elias spoke up.

“Wow, thanks ‘new friend,’” you said sarcastically, feeling teamed upon.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me that you two are friends now” Brock was smiling like an idiot at this point.

“Ok, well as much as I'd love to stay, I have to go and meet Hog, he doesn’t like to go to the store alone.”

“Aww, poor, sweet baby,” you said with a frown, "Tell him I say hi.”

“Will do!”

“Bye Petey.”

“Bye champion of ass-facery,” Elias shouts back

You laughed at that as Elias exited the room, leaving just you and your brother there.

“So are you really mad at me Y/N/N?”

You sigh “no, I guess not. I’m just glad he doesn’t hate me like I thought. And also he’s absolutely hilarious.”

“Right!! He’s so funny, and I just wanted you guys to get along. You’re basically the two most important people in my life and I didn’t want you two to be like you were forever. And if you didn’t notice, you two are so similar!”

“Aww Mr sensitive, you’re so sweeeeeet.”

“You’re such an ass,” he said chuckling.

You pull out your phone and check the time, “well, it’s time for me to depart. I do have a job and all.”

“Wait, that reminds me, why didn’t either of you use your phones and call someone?” he asked, “that was essentially the only flaw in my plan.”

Thought for a second, “shit. I mean we basically talked the whole time I guess neither of us thought to do that.” Brock smiled at you and giggled a little. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just a little sweet, I guess.”

“Shut up ass-munch,” you shove him as you walk out of the door with a small smile on your face. These past 2-3 hours went much better than you would have thought, and now you have a new friend. And maybe at some point, a little more than that.

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[buckybeardreams]

Unwanted

Chapters: 9/11

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Harley Keener

Additional Tags: Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Tony Stark, Service Top, Dominant Bottom, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Romantic Soulmates, First Meetings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sappy, Romantic Fluff, Awkwardness, Drinking to Cope, Self-Worth Issues, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecure Steve Rogers, Age Difference, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Claiming, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Sex, Light Dom/sub, Mutual Masturbation, Coming Untouched, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, Knotting

Series: Part 1 of Second Chances

Summary:

Steve is a soft Alpha and Tony is an in charge kind of Omega with no desire to find a mate. He doesn't want to find his soulmate and when he does meet Steve he's determined to stay away from him. 

That is until he realizes just how right they are for each other.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11

Can also be read here

Words: 1,612

"You're not unhappy that we bonded, right?"

Tony rolled his eyes.

"If I was I wouldn't be curled up in bed right now after letting you fuck my brains out."

Steve smirked.

"I think you were the one doing the fucking. I just laid there while you rode me."

"Yeah, but next time I'm gonna make you do all the work and I'm just gonna lay there and be the pillow princess. Let my Alpha take care of me," Tony said, his fingers trailing down Steve's chest and a sultry pout on his lips. "You'd do that for me, wouldn't you, Alpha?"

"You know I'd do anything to please you, baby."

"I know, because you're such a good boy," Tony murmured, kissing him. "Mm, as much as I'd love to stick around and let you fuck me on every surface in your apartment, I really have to get going or I'm gonna be late."

"I'll drive you," Steve offered.

"You're sweet, but no, I'm good. If I take you with me I'm just gonna end up fucking you in the break room and then the manager is gonna be an asshole about it."

Steve growled.

"I hate that guy more every time you talk about him."

Tony hummed, kissing him again.

"Yeah, well, I think most bosses disapprove of fucking in the employee's room. Even the not asshole ones.

"No, I don't mean that. We definitely can't do that, no matter how much I like the idea of you bossing me around at your work. I just think this Obie guy sounds like the worst and every time I've run into him just confirms that."

Tony didn't even try to disagree with that assessment.

"Like last week when he gave you shit for having to leave early because of your heat. There are laws in place to protect Omegas from being forced to work while in heat, but you practically had to beg him for the days off and then apologize for not being able to work and he still gave you shit about it. Then he had the audacity to act like he had done you some great favor and made you work extra shifts to make up for it. He didn't even pay you overtime, even though he made you work like sixty hours."

"Hey, hey, calm down. You're getting yourself all worked up about it and I don't want that. I appreciate your concern, I really do, and I love that you're so protective. Which is honestly something I never thought I'd say, but you need to take a deep breath. I've got it all under control."

Steve tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm down like his Omega told him to, but it didn't do much to alleviate his anger.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just wish you didn't have to deal with him."

"Well, I won't have to for much longer."

Steve frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Tony shifted on his lap, looking down at his lap nervously.

"Well, I was actually gonna tell you about this, but we've just been so caught up in our own little bubble and I didn't want to burst it by bringing up legal stuff. Besides, I almost forgot about it with all the newly mated hormones rushing through me," Tony rambled.

"Tony, love, just tell me."

"We tried to get Obie fired, but the owner, Alexander Pierce, was backing him, so we're taking him to court. They've been doing a whole bunch of shady stuff that's totally illegal, from paying people off to pass inspections and dealing drugs out back in the alley, to denying us health insurance, making us work overtime but not paying us overtime, and usually they make the Omegas work during heat. I think Obie only gave in this time, because he thought you might beat his ass if he called me in for work."

There was an amused smile on Tony's face, but he was looking at Steve, worried about his reaction. Steve was furious, but not at Tony. He knew that Obie was an asshole, but he had no idea just how bad it really was.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I shouldn't have let you work for a guy like that. I'm your Alpha. I should have protected you, provided for you so you didn't have to work-"

"Hey, no, stop," Tony told him. "I love you so much, Alpha, but I don't want that. This was my battle to fight and I wasn't about to let you take that away from me. I've been dealing with this bullshit for years and now I'm finally changing things. You have to let me do this."

Steve felt awed by his little Omega. So much strength wrapped up in such a small little package it was unbelievable, and to think he was all Steve's. Steve kissed him, hard and lingering.

"I would never take that away from you, Tony. I wouldn't dream of doing something like that, pretty Omega."

A shy smile crept onto Tony's face and his cheeks turned pink.

"Thank you, Alpha. That means a lot, and I mean, there's no guarantee that the next person who buys the place will be any better than Pierce, or that they will hire us all on again. There's really no guarantee anybody will buy the place anytime soon. Realistically, it'll probably be bulldozed and turned into a parking lot for the diner next door or something like that. We all know that we're probably gonna lose our jobs, but it's worth it to do the right thing and put Pierce behind bars."

Steve nodded, licking his lips and considering how to say what he wanted to say in a way that wouldn't offend Tony.

"You know that I think you're so strong and I'm so proud of you for doing this, right?"

Tony bit his lip, nodding uncertainly.

He wasn't sure where Steve was going with this.

"I think it's amazing that you're gonna do this and that you want to do this and I'll support you in this in any way that I can," Steve told him earnestly. "I know that this is your fight, Tony, and I would never take that away from you, but if you'll let me, I'd love to fight alongside you."

Tony broke out in a grin, wrapping his arms around Steve's neck.

"Yes! Oh my God, yes!" Tony squealed. "Fuck, you scared me there. I thought you were gonna say something awful, but I should have known you'd just say something charming and perfect."

Steve blushed, but he was grinning too.

"Right, well, you see, the thing is Tony that I have a lot of money-"

Tony pulled back, raising a brow at him.

" You have a lot of money. You , the eighteen year old artist and former virgin until I seduced your ass Alpha, has a lot of money?" Tony asked him, clearly amused and not believing him one bit. "Tell me, pretty boy, what do you consider a lot of money? The twenty dollar allowance your mommy gives every Saturday?"

Steve glared at him, but there wasn't any heat in it. If anything he was just really embarrassed and really turned on.

"Sam helped me out a lot when I was a kid. He helped me turn my life around and he helped get my art into some galleries. He's got this friend, an ex of his, Pepper Potts. She's like a brilliant business woman and she runs her own company, but she also has a few major art galleries where she displays art from some of the most prominent artists in the states. I'm talking big shots, well known artists that make hundreds of thousands of dollars selling one painting."

Tony was just staring at him, like he was having a hard time figuring out if this was just some elaborate joke or not.

"Steve... what are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that she saw some of my work, loved it, and put it up in her galleries. I've only sold a handful, but I've made a lot of money. Your bar is not that great, no offense, and I don't really spend much of my money other than for, like, rent and groceries, so there's a lot of it just sitting around. We could probably just buy the bar. That is if you want to be an owner of a bar."

Steve swallowed hard and fidgeted nervously with the bottom of Tony's shirt when he didn't respond. Tony was just shocked and pretty sure he was dreaming.

"I'm sorry, what? You're joking, right?" Tony said in disbelief. "Are you telling me that you have hundreds of thousands of dollars just lying around?"

Steve squirmed under Tony.

"I mean, not literally. It's all in the bank. Most of it's in my savings account since it earns more interest that way-"

"Shut up, I don't care about that," Tony said, cutting off his nervous rambling. "Are you for real? You have that kind of money and you'd be willing to let me buy a bar with it?"

Steve bit his lip.

"Yeah, I mean, Tony, I'd do anything for you. So if you want a bar then I'll buy you a bar. It's no big deal."

"No big deal? It's a huge deal!"

Steve wasn't sure if he was upset or excited, but then Tony was wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him.

"Fuck, I love you so much. You know that, right?" Tony groaned against his lips.

Steve nodded, whimpering into his mouth when Tony kissed him again.

[yuulina-vre]

Gifting you a new life

Trouble

Pairing: Steve x Bucky, Reader insert

Warnings: Mild angst

word count: 2388 words

Part: Five

Summery: Y/N get’s a letter that is upsetting and bringing up some part of her life she rather forget. Steve get’s to know Bucky.

Masterlist

* * *

Y/N stands in the kitchen, envelops and newspaper in hand, sorting them. Steve’s looking through the shelves, probably hunting for some snack before Bucky will arrive in two hours or so. It’s quiet, content. A truly normal, but peaceful Saturday evening. It takes her a minute until she has sorted the envelopes for bills, Steve’s, and her own letters. Then she dins it. The envelope in her hand is yellow, not the ordinary white. The address is scribbled per hand with crooked and smeared lines. Handwritten. She can’t shake the feeling of knowing this handwriting but there’s no picture to it. She just knows that it’s familiar. And it's not the first this week. She rips it open and reads it over, stopping shortly and frowning before reading it again and again. Suddenly she feels confused, unsure, and maybe a little bit angry. It only makes her angrier the longer she reads the words, sees the handwriting and the name on the end. She makes a noise between a sigh and a grunt which makes Steve turn away from the cereals and faces her. “What are you looking at?” She startles, looks up at him, and folds the paper to shove it back in the envelope. “Just a letter from my Mom. Nothing important.” It’s a lie. The letters not from her mom or dad, not from any of her friends. But if she tells Steve who’s letter it is then he will get worried. She doesn’t want him to worry, not today. Never if possible. Especially not when he’s going to finally get to know a potential love interest, maybe even getting himself a ate and something from his dad back. Steve frowns at her and comes closer. “And that makes you sigh like you want to punch the wall and cry at the same time.” Y/N cringes a bit and quickly searches for a new excuse. “Wasn’t a really good letter.”

“Is your dad okay? He was sick, right?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Out of hospital and refusing to rest like always.” She smiles at him and stuffs the envelope in her bag. “What are you doing here anyway? We're supposed to eat dinner in two hours.” Steve raises his eyebrows and looks at the clock on the wall. “It’s half-past four. I’m starving now and Bucky won’t be here before six.” Bucky and Steve had texted on and off yesterday after the grocery store. Steve finally able to talk to him after having met him properly. Bucky had told him when he’s going to come over and that he will bring beer for the game. Also asking a lot of questions relating to dinner, bringing something else and all that. Y/N found it endearing but slightly annoying the Steve didn’t even listen to her rambling about Tony’s plans for the next school year. “Right.” Steve shrugs at her but studies her face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” She curses herself lightly. The answer was way too rushed, maybe even a bit too fast. “I mean… I – I didn’t decide on what to make for dessert, yet. And I have to call Tony because of next year’s schedule and my classes. We didn’t get everything finished yesterday.”

“Can’t it wait until Monday?”

“I- I rather have it sorted out today. I’ll be quick, I promise.” It’s not all true but true enough. He had met Tony yesterday between classes, talked to him about peter and some of her classes for the next year, and listened to his ideas. She had some lingering questions but nothing that can’t wait until Monday. She somehow feels pressured to lie to Steve, when in reality there’s no real reason to do so. “Okay.” Steve stretches the last letter, not quite believing her, his eyes falling on the letter in her hand again. It’s clear to see that Steve wants to say something else but holds himself back, probably sensing that she won’t answer him anyway. Y/N sighs and puts the letter down, looking at Steve. “I’m alright. I promise. How about, instead of filling your stomach with things that won’t do anything for your hunger, you go upstairs and find something to wear?”

“Why?”

“Are you really going to meet Bucky in your paint speckled shirt and dirty sweatpants?” She scoffs a little, looking him up and down with a frown. Steve looks down on himself. “Right, Not really… nice.”

“Not really, no.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going to shower and redress. Call me if you need help.”

“With what? I can’t really have the kitchen burning because you tried to boil water.”

“That was one time and the kitchen didn’t burn!”

“It almost did!” She laughs at Steve’s red face and watches him grumbling leave the kitchen. She looks after Steve for a moment longer before her gaze switches back to the letter on the table. “When will you finally leave me alone?” She walks into the living room and to her smartphone on the coffee table, picking it up and looking through her contact until she finds the Stark-Potts contact and pressing on the calling button. It rings a few times, time enough for Y/N to get a little lost on her thoughts. Her nerves are almost frayed with fear. She doesn’t want to think back at her relationship with Rumlow. It was one of her worst mistakes she ever made and apparently, he has not forgotten about her. He keeps popping up in her life, mostly when she believes she finally left him behind her. In her old life. As if he wants to remind her that he’s still there and still waiting for her to realize that she belongs to him and forever will.

“Stark-Potts. Here is Pepper.” Pepper's words rip her out of her memories of an old life, almost making her flinch. “Oh Pepper, here’s Y/N. Is Tony there? And right now?” Who knows which business the rich man tends to in his free time. “He has a video conference in ten minutes, when you make it wick then I can fetch him for you.”

“Please.” She nods despite Pepper not being able to see it and sits down on the couch, fussing with her free hand on one of the pillows Steve brought in a thrift shop. She hates the thing and still suspects that Steve brought it to annoy her. But he seems to genuinely like it so she allowed the ugly piece of brown fabric to stay. “Are you okay? You sound upset.” She can hear Pepper walking through their house. “He’s back, Pepper.” Her voice is dry, hoarse. Empty. “Who?”

“Brock.”

“Oh my god. Alright. I make sure you two have time talking.” Y/N nods and turns around to make sure Steve’s still upstairs and won’t catch a word of what she’s going to discuss with Tony. She doesn’t have to wait long. She hears some muffled voices, some rustling, and then there’s Tony’s voice, playful and quirky as always. “Y/N! My favorite person in the whole world, after Pepper, of course. You’re saving me from one of the most boring calls I have to witness this week.” She can practically see the grin plastered on his face and if she wouldn’t feel so bad it would infect her just right now and she would laugh or snort, send a remark back and make a joke or something. But right now, it just makes her feel sick. “Tony.” Her throat feels dry. She has the feeling that a lump has embedded itself in her windpipe, catching the air she needs and forcing it back out. The letter, still lying on the dining table seems to bore itself in her head. Would it be a person, its eyes would send glares at her, boring her with deep red and evil eyes, a devilish grin on its lips, and a mocking look all over its face. “What’s wrong? Fighting with Steve?” Y/N takes a deep breath. Her eyes gliding back to the offending piece of paper on the table in the kitchen. She can see the writing in her inner eye, doesn’t even need to look at it. It’s as if it burned the words in her brain. “Y/N? Pepper’s looking worried so I assume she knows what’s up. Do we need to come over?” 

“No! No. I…” She sighs, frustrated with herself for letting a letter, or several over the past week, get herself lose control “I got a letter.”

“Okay.”

“From… him.” There’s silence for a second before she hears a sound that could be a groan, a scoff, or something entirely different. “Brock Rumlow again. I didn’t expect him to come back so soon.” Knowing that several expressions run over his face right now she sighs and falls back on the couch. Anger is probably the most dominant emotion for tony right now and she knows, if Steve knew, he would be furious right now. Not at her for hiding it but for Brock to even trying to get back in contact with her. “What do I do now?” Y/N’s voice is filled with fear and she knows it trembles. “What if he comes?” 

“Does he know where you work?”

“I-I don’t know. But Tony! He knows where I live. I move d four times and he still found me. How difficult can it be to find out where I work?” Y/N shakes her head. “He never went to this house with me. If he didn’t follow me then he shouldn’t know about it and now that he does…. I don’t feel safe, Tony.”

“Does Steve know?”

“No! Dear god, Tony. I can’t tell him. He’s finally getting on his feet, even found someone to flirt with. I-I can’t bring him up. Not now.”

“Okay.” Y/N can hear Tony pace around his office. He’s mumbling some things she can understand. Then she hears him talking silently to someone. “Happy. Take Jarvis and Pietro on Monday and secure the gate. No strangers are allowed to enter coming next week. No, that’s not a joke. Students have to show their Student ID, otherwise, they won’t enter… Who? When?” Y/N starts nibbling on her lower lip and startle a little as she hears the stairs behind her creak. She turns around to see Steve enter the living room with a smile, turning to show off his beige khakis and his light blue button-up. He raises an eyebrow as if to ask if he looks better and Y/N just nods. The Steve mouths ‘Still Tony?’ And she nods again while Steve rolls his eyes and walks into the kitchen. “Y/N? You still there?” She twitches a little and stumbles over her own words. “Y-yeah. I-I’m here.”

“Do you know a brunette man with long hair and silver hand?”

“I-I don’t think so. Why?”

“There was someone in school on Thursday, asking for Steve.” A silent ‘o’ forms on her mouth, thinking of the only person that might have been asking for the blonde. Wait, he has a metal arm? “That- That could have been James Barnes. Pepper might remember him. He’s from the military. He has something from Steve’s dad.” She hears Tony asking pepper and her answering, though, she can’t really make out any words. “He was okay, Happy. Though, don’t let anyone in without informing me. I send you a picture of a man who’s not even allowed to be near the school. Make sure we don’t even catch a glimpse of him.” Steve comes back in, toast in his mouth and crackers in hand, flopping down beside her and holding the crackers up. Y/N shakes her head at the offer, watching him shrug. There’s an itch in her body to lean over, lie her head on his shoulder and cry for the rest of the day, bathing in her misery. “Okay, Y/N, Happy’s taking care of the school. Do you need something else?”

“No, I-I guess not.” There’s silence in the line for a moment before she hears Tony sigh. “Y/N. You know I would never let him near you. Not at school anyway. I will do everything I can. I can’t protect you at home but you know you can call me if somethings up, no matter how late. And you have Steve there, too. Think about telling him. It might be good to have him know. Rumlow is an asshole and Steve hates him more than I do. You should tell him because we both know he would want to know.” Y/N shakes her head with a deep breath. “Alright.” The air leaves her body and she finally leans over to Steve, resting her head on his shoulder with closed eyes. She can feel the man shift a little, draping his arm around her shoulders, planting a kiss to her temple before going back to his toast and crackers. “Pep’s getting pepper spray for you. Though, I could give her to you. She’s better than any spray available.” Y/N snorts a small smile before she shakes her head. “No, I think I’m good for the moment. Thank you, Tony.”

“No problem, but remember to tell me if somethings up. And better don’t go home alone. Let Steve drive you or something.”

“I will.” She smiles again and then says goodbye, putting the phone down in her lap and listening to Steve’s munching. She’s not sure if she will be alright, though. She really doesn’t want to see Brock again and certainly not at her workplace. She doesn’t really pay attention to what’s going on and just as Steve moves does she look over to him. He has turned a little to face her. His face is filled with concern, maybe shock, too, and his hands are hovering over her, crackers abandoned on the coffee table. “Everything good? You’re crying.” Startled she lifts her hand to her cheek, making a surprised noise. Is brock already making her that out of her mind that she doesn’t even notice when she’s crying?

“Y-yeah, don’t know why.” She laughs a little, feeling like crying even more now. “Let’s get this dinner ready, yeah?” She whips her eyes once more and lifts herself from the couch, matching into the kitchen, successfully ending the conversation and escaping any questions that would come for the moment.

Previous Part / Next Part

[its--me-alex]

Imagine Sam Winchester - missed opportunities

Request: “ Sam and reader having the holidays alone in the bunker, basically anything a holidays fun day would include but my only specifics for this vague request would be some type of snow activity and maybe some mistletoe, it doesn’t snow where i’m from and snow stuff is always really fun!! 

Super sorry if it’s too vague, i feel bad asking for anything too specific and kinda embarrassed even tho it’s anonymous, hope you have a happy holidays :)”

A/N: Please don’t ever feel bad or embarrassed about your requests. Writers like myself are estatic whenever we get one. Also I know it ain’t christmas anymore but here is the story anyways, because why not. It isn’t as holiday-ish as intended but still: Enjoy!

Words: 1,619

Memories in italics

POV Reader:

“Almost two goddam months.I really need to get over this! Seriously y/n, there are more importat things than....” you halted your thoughts hating that you couldn’t get over it.

Looking up you felt an immediate wave of regret. Over there sat Sam, looking on one of this oh-so-boring lore books, being calm as ever, as if christmas eve hadn’t happend. You on the other hand couldn’t even sit quietly next to the younger Winchester without having your mind becoming a mess.

It was the evening of christmas eve. Dean who wanted you to “get your shit together, finally stop to eye-fuck his brother and rather do the real thing” left the two of you to “get some beer”. Unfortunately he got stuck on the road because of some “car problems”, which left you and Sam alone in the bunker to celabrate christmas.

Trying not to remember that Dean told you very specifically to ask his brother out you try to keep your hands steady while you stand next to Sam to prepare your dinner. Looking at him out of the conner of your eye, you saw that he was as collected as always.

“Why would he be nervous anyways”, you asked yourself: “it isn’t as if the two of you had never been alone together”

But you were fidgety anyways, knowing what Dean wanted you to do. “He dosen’t like me that way. Why does Dean what me to embarrass me like that to him?!”, you thought.

“y/n? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, sure just thinking ‘bout stuff, y’know?”

“Oh-okay. Ahm.. I’m done with cutting the vegetables . You?”

You tested the nuddles and said: “Yeah there done.”

You already feared the strange atmosphere, that you expected at the dinner table, but to your surprise everything went perfect. As it was normal for the two of you you had one great conversation topic after the next, half of them making you laught the other half being some deep shit.

After you finished dinner, you cleaned up and decided you wanted to have a glass of whiskey in the liberay.

Sam went there first and you moved back to your room to check on your phone quickliy before you wanted to join him.

Going into your room you screened it, for where you phone is. You found it on your nightstand. While walking back to the liberary where suspected Sam was already waiting for you, you turned it on.

There where endlessly many notifications for misssed calls from Dean. As you just wanted to click on the button to hear what he had to say, eventhought you weren’t sure if you wanted to hear him asking how far you and Sam made it with the talking-about-your-feelings, you saw Sam standing in the door to the liberary looking up.

“Ahm... you alright there Sammy?”, you asked gigerly, competly forgetting about Deans calls.

You just wanted to go passed him, as he grabed your arm softly.

“Well.. Y-you know I... actually ahm”, he paused.

Now extremely curious of what had the fearless and calm hunter Sam fucking Winchester so out of his head you looked up too. Above your heads there was a miseltoe with a small note in Deans Handwriting “Since I know you two I herby give you a push.”

“He’s having a strange humor again, eh?”, you tried to laught it off knowing that you would possibly catch fire if his lips were to touch yous.

“Ha! Yeah, but y’know, he will know if we don’t ... so that”, hawking he took a deep breath and then looked you directly in the eyes.

Suddenly he softly grabbed the back of your head. Everything started to be tingeling and your breathing became eratic as his other arm found his way around your waist to pull you more into him.

Trying to steady youself you put both of your hand on his firm chest, feeling his strong muscles underneath his ugly christmas sweater.

His eyes were still focused on yous as he took a deep breath. You had to swallow hard as he bend down a bit to be on your hight.

All your thoughts were gone and your heart was fluttering so much it almost hurt as you were anticipating his next move.

He broke the tensed silence between the two of you with a whisped: “Is this ok?”

Swallowing hard yet again you answered in a raspy voice: “Y-Yeah”

Slowly, giving you any chance to escape, his face came closer to yours. You reacted by parting you lips slghtly. Then you felt his shallow breath on your face as you both closed you eyes gradually. When you could finally, almost feel his clapped lips on your soft ones ....

BOOM!

Thinking back to the day of christmas eve you sighned heavily. Dean had interrupted you right befor you both could finally have what you had craved for for years. To be fair, there was a problem with witches that couldn’t wait, since they were attacing Lebanon trying to catch children who were feeling “true happiness” to sacifice them to some god of theirs.

Needless to say that you fought them hard, but still some of them escaped far away. It took you until yesterday to kill them all, before Dean decided he would drive throught at night, if that meant he cold spend the next night on his memory foam. Currently he wanted to get some  groceries since all you had was to old by now.

Thinking of the devil, Dean came throught the bunker door with two big bags full of things.

“Whoa, Dean! Are we gonna host some party or why did you buy the whole store?”, Sam asked, snickering at the sight of his brother struggeling those two big, heavy-looking bags.

“Ha-ha, Bitch. So funny. There was a sale at the shop from which we get our weapons and ammunition. So I bought it!”, Dean exclaimed.

“Bought “It”?“, you asked curious but still amused.

“Ahm, everything he had. He-he”, Dean ducked his head as if he just now noticed that what he bought might really be a bit too much. Knowing Dean you asumed he really just had that realisation.

As Sam gave his brother the famous bitch-face Dean replied: “You know what: I did the shopping, you do the carrying stuff part. Theres lots still in the trunk.”

Huffing Sam and you realised that descussing this would take longer than to just carry all in.

As you were gettting up Sam reacted by saying “O-oh no. You don’t need to help. I got this. It’s very cold outside.”

“We are quicker if we work together. I’m just gonna put a jacket on.”

As you took a step outside of the bunkers main entrance there stood the impala. It’s shiny black hood looking impressive on the white background.

“Did you knew it had snowed?”

No. But it’s great isn’t it?”

“Yeah!”

After that short exchange you both started to carry in one heavy bag full of ammunition and weapons after the next.

As you just walked outside to check if there was another bag left, you felt something hitting your back.

Turning around quickly you saw Sam standing there and failing to look innocent.

“You shouldn’t have started a fight you can’t win, Winchester!”

“Oh really? What do you what to do about it?”

Reacting to his sassy words you quickly grabbed a hand full of fresh white snow and threw it in his face.

“How about that.”

“Oh you are in for it y/n.”

With that a heavy snow fight brock out between the two of you. You would always dodge his snow, something he couldn’t.  

Just as you wanted to throw another snowball at him, you looked around but couldn’t see him. Right when you wanted to yell at him, that you would go back inside to drink something warm, secretly hoping he would come out of his hideout, so you could throw another load of snow at him, you got tackled from behind. 

Hunter instincts kicking in you throw that (fairly heavy) person off of you, turn around and press them into the ground with your full weight on your arm holding them down at their troat.

“Look who’s there.” you hear Sams voice close to your ear.

“Shit! Sorry Sammy! I didn’t... Sorry”

As you tried to get off of him you first took your arm away from his neck.

“It’s okay. I’m gonna make the best outta it.”

With that he turned you around yet again, so he was laying on top of you. However he was, other than you, very carful to not put his whole weight on you as he reached for something in his pocket.

“When we were coming home earlier, I spotted something that had me reminded of how much I wanted - no still want ... something.”, he stuttered.

As you just wanted to ask whats the matter, he showed you the miseltoe under which the two of you had almost kissed months ago.

“Ever since this evening I was barly able to hunt down those witches. I tried everything y/n, and still... all I could think of was how good you smelled, and how soft you lips looked, how perfect your body felt under my hands, how much I wanted to... “

You stopped him by pressing you lips to his in a loving kiss, just as you had dreamed of so often since you fell for him. And just like you imagined it was perfect. Both of you could only concentrade on this very moment as you both fullfilled you deepest wish of being together that way.

Breathing heavily you answered: “ Yeah, me too.”

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

Also check this out:

https://its--me-alex.tumblr.com/post/637948228780933120/headcanons-castiel-how-he-fell-for-you-he-met

[avionvadion]

More of my old pokemon drawings! Since... I’m apparently back in that obsession now. Frick. Oh well. These were for chapters 10 and 12 respectively. The Underground Hideout and The Taste of Freedom. 

Basil: Bulbasaur. Belladonna: Weepinbell. Ansem: Eevee. 

There is a lot of dark topics surrounding this story, such as kidnapping, trauma, and abuse, so... if that makes you uncomfortable please don’t keep reading. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22998952/chapters/54987940

Grunt, the girl, is  thirteen. Various factors such as stress, depression, and malnourishment had caused her growth to be greatly stunted so she looks like a small child. One of her hands is crooked from an injury she received growing up in Team Rocket, the majority of her arm numb as a result of poor healing. She met Steven YEARS ago, which is the very start of the story, when he was ten and she was four. They made a promise over a broken dawn stone to meet again after she was taken in by social services, but then Team Rocket happened. Because of her lack of a name they called her “Grunt” to mock her future as a Team Rocket grunt. 

As a result of learning from the news that his very new friend got taken, Steven makes it a goal to track them down. Several years pass with no luck and everyone convinces him to give up, so he focuses on his career instead. But then... the headquarters blows up, because a certain legendary pokemon was told the truth and escaped. And he picks up where he left off, aiming to avenge the friend everyone is convinced is long dead or a member of Team Rocket, with Wallace and Winona’s help. (This is where the conspiracy theorist Steven drawing desire comes in, since he has all these old newspapers and stuff for all the Team Rocket sightings and missing children/pokemon) 

Meanwhile, Grunt- having recently escaped due to the explosion- ends up journeying, very reluctantly might I add, with Brock and eventually Blue, to strengthen her pokemon by taking on the gym leaders, heading back to Hoenn, and freeing all the children/pokemon being held captive by Team Rocket, and hopefully reunite with that friend she can no longer truly remember- the dawn stone being the only thing she had that reminds her that he had once existed. 

The man antagonists in this story are Richard (Rich) and Velga, Giovanni, and all of Team Rocket. (Jesse and James will make their appearance in ORAS) 

Chapter 10 Bit: I had been more than prepared to defend myself against anything the adult could have done. The battle went by easier than expected, especially compared to Rich and Velga, and his tactics reminded me more of those random goons found lurking about in Mt. Moon when Brock and I had been searching for the fossils. What neither of us had been expecting, however, was what happened after I defeated him.

"Wh… What!?"

"I told you before," I growled, starting to feel the familiar sensation of frustration as my words continued to fail in being understood by this person, "I'm not joining you."

"But… with your skills you could totally become a top leader!" He protested. "Your pōkemon and leadership are incredible!" When he saw I was not being swayed he faltered, taking several steps back. His teeth ground together and his eyes lit up with rage, frustration on his face. "You and that boy… damn it all! Do you realize what you're turning down!? You selfish, spoiled little kids will never understand what it's like to be part of something great! Not like this! So I guess… I'll just have to show you."

"Explain!" Brock frowned deeply when the adult started to cackle, the teen stepping forward and readying to summon a pokemon at a moment's notice. "What are you trying to do? Why does Team Rocket want to use kids so badly?"

"Hm?" He tilted his head, blinking. "Oh, you haven't figured it out? You really are just a child."

I closed my eyes, expression growing empty and solemn. It was such an obvious answer, one I had learned a long time ago. Considering how he's acted so far, I knew my travelling companion would not like the answer. Ignorance, in cases like these, was complete and total bliss. But when living under such terrible conditions like I had for so long ignorance was a curse and knowledge was power. With his view of the world, I knew the truth would only enrage him further should he find out.

"Brock, don't…"

The boy looked back at me, confused when he heard my voice trail off and go quiet. "But you want to know, right? You deserve to know! Grunt, you-"

"Grunt?" The adult echoed. Realization dawned on his face and he whirled around, staring at me with big eyes. "You can't be… no, no, no- hold on. Yes, of course! How did I not realize!? You were there that day, weren't you? The day the headquarters blew up…"

The hate on his face intensified and Brock tensed, chills going down his spine as he took a fearful step back, holding a shaky arm up in front of me, the boy bravely pushing me behind him. His actions no longer surprised me, though the logic behind them did. "It wasn't her fault!" He protested, defending me. The way he said it made it almost sound like that sentence would solve everything; that it would make all the hurt go away. Brock, despite his fear, spoke with confidence.

Unfortunately, he knew nothing. I still haven't explained everything to him.

Him believing that I didn't know why children were being used was proof of that. I knew all too well why kids like me were targeted; I just… found it hard to speak about it. I think I just didn't want to upset him anymore than he already was over my situation, which was weird. He shouldn't be so upset about it; it wasn't like my life was something particularly special that should be deserving of attention, and yet… here we are.

He said I was the one who cared too much, but it was so obviously the other way around. This only showed more with Brock's kind words.

Unfortunately, the person across from us did not care to listen. He was bristling with rage, only hearing and focusing on what he wanted to. "It was… It was you! You little brat- my friend died in that fire!"

I flinched at those words, the guilt washing over me like a tidal wave. It was suffocating, the weight of the lives taken crushing me inside. My head ducked down as he continued to scream, Brock's back being the only thing blocking him from my view. The boy kept me behind him as best as he could as we started to become surrounded- all the trainers from before crowding around us and removing their disguises, revealing the large red R that was plastered over all of their chests.

"That's not on you," I heard Brock say firmly, speaking to me and momentarily snapping me out of my darker thoughts, his attention never leaving the evil trainers around us, "you didn't mean for it to happen."

But... I still caused it. I freed the legendary pōkemon that exploded the building.

Their deaths were on my hands. I murdered them.

And these people… those that were little kids had actually been wearing well-made masks, revealing very small adults. They were all Team Rocket. In my panic to rescue Blue I made a very grave mistake; I stopped observing. If I had paid the slightest bit of attention to their attire or appearance anymore than I had then this could have been avoided. I knew their tactics inside-out and yet I let this happen.

I… I screwed up. Frick.

Why do I keep making the simplest of mistakes? Was it because this was the outside world?

It was so much larger and vast than I had ever expected it to be, and despite my reluctance to trust strangers I still found myself letting down my guard, fooled by the kindness that had been shown to me by so many. This was going to cost us dearly.

The people started to grow closer and I tensed, watching as Ansem and Basil growled at the Team Rocket members. There were so many of them; I could handle one or two of them easily, but six? The leader yelled at me, cursing my existence, and without realizing I found myself grabbing onto the hem of Brock's jacket, scared as the consequences of my foolishness caught up with me, clinging onto the newer light shining before me in desperation for comfort.

I… caused this.

I failed. Just like back in the caves, I… couldn't protect anyone.

We were totally trapped.

Brock glanced over his shoulder at me before turning around, wrapping his arms around me. I was shaking, barely breathing as horror and guilt took over, the older teen keeping me pressed close to his chest protectively. He called out to my pōkemon, catching their attention as I started to shut down and surrender to my darker emotions. "Ansem, Belladonna, Basil! Get us out of here!"

"Oh, no you don't! Aerodactyl, go!" The violet-haired man raised a hand outwards, eyes flashing dangerously. A large gust of wind appeared, nearly blowing us all off our feet. Suddenly a big pōkemon appeared from a pōkeball, flying high into the air, beating its wings. An ear-piercing screech erupted from its throat, making it difficult to hear the goon speak. "If it weren't for the boss wanting you alive, I'd kill you myself! So instead, I'll have you all suffer! "

The ground began to shake, and Brock stumbled sideways- being forced to let go as I staggered backwards. Basil panicked and leapt into his arms, scared of being seperated, and Ansem started to bark again and dashed towards me, Belladonna right behind him.

Just where was this earthquake coming from? It wasn't from his Aerodactyl; it was coming from…

...underground?

Oh frick, oh frick, oh Arceus, oh gods-

I'm so sorry-!

We're going to be killed!

I screwed up!

This is all my fault!

Why did I escape so soon!?

The ground itself began to open up, shifting as two metal slabs drifted apart, and as I sat there frozen in terror Brock was shouting, calling out me as he stumbled over, trying to get to me and the rest of my pōkemon. Basil wailed loudly, tears in his eyes, and in my shock it took me a second too long to notice Brock's outstretched hand. I struggled to move, constantly knocked back down by the violent shaking of the earth, and in my desperation I reached out for him.

This was all too familiar.

In the recesses of my mind, buried deep into my memory from a time long ago, I remembered. It wasn't the first time I bore witness to such a thing, but I was certainly never on it when it happened. It was just like how the Hoenn base opened up when I was first stolen away and… when I left to Kanto on that cursed helicopter Rich and Velga made me ride.

And, deeper still, I had the feeling that I once reached out like this for someone. Who, I wasn't sure, but the sensation of a memory was there- trying to claw its way to the surface and tearing at my brain, forcing my skull to throb even more than it already was.

The Team Rocket goon raised his voice, shouting at us with a crazed grin, rage in his eyes. "Your pōkemon, your supplies; they'll all be ours!" He declared. "And you, Grunt, traitor to our kind, will suffer alongside your foolish companion!"

That was when the ground beneath me gave way, crumbling to pieces, and as I fell through the trap door I saw a quick flash of green-and-brown as Brock leapt after, following me down into the underground like a fool.

"Together forever! Trapped in the underground maze we've created!"

Rather than air, I thought of water- cold, freezing water that was filled with debris, and skies that seemed to boil with heat. Falling deeper and deeper, sinking below the surface.

Stuck… in the terrifying abyss of darkness.

As we tumbled deep into the black I muttered not so much as a word, not even able to scream, only watching with wide eyes as the light above us vanished. For a moment, as the trap doors closed and we continued to fall, all hope was lost. I found myself wondering if this was truly the end.

"A-Are you okay? What's wrong?"

It was still there- buried in the recesses of my mind. As much as I felt I should start ignoring it, I couldn't help but find that the traces of connection still held strong. My heart just couldn't let go. Everything always went back to that one person, after all, and I spent so long surviving on the pure hope of seeing him again. Even now he was haunting me, the memory of that promise keeping me rooted to this earth.

Earth…

So many years I spent living on this planet; obeying orders, acting as the puppet I was groomed to be, and plotting schemes that were only doomed to fail. Everything I ever dreamed of or desired to obtain was just too far out of reach, and they were all centered around that boy I had met so long ago. As time past my goals did shift, focusing more on the rescue of the other children, but the fact remained- I wanted to see him again.

To thank him for saving me so many times.

But… it was all an illusion. Even this freedom I have now is false.

I'm still trapped by Team Rocket.

And now… I've never felt more useless. Falling endlessly through nothingness, mind and heart slowly giving up as everything went downhill once more. It wasn't as if I truly desired to go on this journey in the first place; all I wanted was to find the police, inform them of the hideout, and then go on my way to find that mysterious boy whom I made a promise to. Yet… those plans failed too.

Everything I come up with just… fails.

Perhaps this was the world's cruel sense of justice- to get back at me for causing such a tragedy. Team Rocket was full of cruel and terrible people; they were evil beyond belief. But that didn't mean the deserved to die. Those evil enough to kidnap children and torture them, stealing them away from their families, and even go so far as to experiment on innocent pōkemon…

They needed to be imprisoned. That fate, that kind of suffering, was far worse and more befitting.

But… I was starting to believe that there was no such thing as justice. Only karma, the world making twists and turns to toy with the lives of those that lived on its back.

"Don't forget about me, you hear!?"

I'm sorry. I did. I remember your words, though the voice that once accompanied them is long gone. It was thanks to you that I became so good at surviving, yet I'm afraid that that itself was a grave mistake. My existence only ever seemed to cause others to hurt. Whether it be by putting them in danger or inadvertently hurting them with words…

I'm starting to think you should have let me rot on that street.

"Veeevaa!"

That cry snapped me back into my senses.

The world around me seemed to recollect sound and my eyes slowly opened, vision taking a while to adjust to the dark. In the distance, somewhere nearby, I could hear Ansem barking. Brock was screaming- calling out to me and trying to locate where I was. The guilt hit full force as I thought about the family that was waiting for him. They had told me to protect him, to keep him safe, and here he is falling to his death because of me.

There's… no way I can just let him die, can I?

Not like this.

Basil, Belladonna… they were all so innocent. Like the kind strangers I've met, they've only done things to help me. The pōkemon chose me as their trainer.

Did that… Did that condemn them to this fate? Because they outstretched their hands to me?

I don't… want that. I don't want them to suffer because of me.

Too much blood has already been spilled.

I can't help people; I'm only ever good at endangering them. My only real accomplishment was staying alive- so, that means… I just have to figure out a way to extend that to those I surrounded myself with. The determination to reach my goal, the willingness to do whatever it took to reach the finish line. The reluctance of falling back into the arms of those who would hurt me, to accept those who would gather me.

Obligation, obedience. Fear, guilt. Cowardice, courage.

Hate… and love.

My eyes squeezed tightly shut, burning with tears as so many emotions welled up inside me, mixing together and creation a concoction that was far from healthy. As they bubbled up, some strange sensation rising in the back of my throat, I opened my mouth and out came a cry- a scream full of rage and frustration, aggravating my still-not-quite-healed vocal chords. A howl echoed out afterwards, coming from the ever loyal Ansem, the pōkemon reacting quite intensely to my overflowing emotions. My arms shot out and I reached blindly in the direction I heard them, body coiling around a large and soft body, fur tickling my face.

It was so dark I couldn't see anything and it hurt so much to keep my eyes open, but I have to get us through this! I have to survive, so they can survive! It's the only thing my foolish self is good at!

I had no idea how much longer we had before we splat against the ground, as we had been falling for quite a while, and as a result of this knowledge adrenaline started to pump through my veins, causing my heart to race as I hiccuped and choked, mind reeling with ideas and solutions to the problem we found ourselves in. That goon said we were heading into an underground maze, which meant it could very well be a Team Rocket hideout they've created. Our pōkemon, our supplies- he said they would be theirs.

This trap was most likely designed to capture those who refused their offer to join the organization, made with the intention of stealing their money and pōkemon.

That meant that there had to be some sort of safety mechanism at the bottom- or maybe they expected us to call the pōkemon back into their pōkeballs to save them, leaving us humans to splatter into goop at the bottom. Regardless the reason, the design, or their plans, we couldn't risk just falling forever until we became sludge on the ground. We had to take precautions. And, as someone who grown up learning how to plot and scheme by the very criminals that were entrapping us, they were greatly underestimating me.

No… they were underestimating us.

I'm not alone anymore. Brock, the pōkemon… we're all here working together. Journeying together. We're friends.

And Brock just so happened to be a retired gym leader, who owned a pōkemon that was so large that he could easily stop our fall if he so wished.

If memory served correctly, and I'm praying it did because I'm panicking so badly right now that it was rather hard to think straight, Onix was a pōkemon who liked to burrow in underground places. He could even evolve naturally into some kind of steel-type pōkemon once deep enough, becoming embedded with either crystals or diamonds, or maybe both.

It might hurt a bit, but… we could use him to our advantage here. Feeling Ansem nuzzle his face into the curve of my bandaged neck, I called out as loudly as I could, ignoring the sensation of what felt like glass piercing the inside of my throat. "Brooooock!"

"Grunt!?" The boy was alarmed. It sounded like he was coming somewhere from my… left… yet higher up. He jumped in after me, so it makes sense that I'm farther down than him. "Grunt, where are you!?"

"O-Over here!"

Ansem started to bark, sensing my pain as I started to cough. Frick- I seriously needed a drink now. It felt like needles were stabbing my neck from the inside. It was almost as if the pōkemon was trying to alert the others to our presence, so that I wouldn't have to.

Still, if we couldn't reach each other… the plan might not work. "Can you hear me!? G-Grab my hand!"

"Where!?"

I reached out above me, following the sound of his voice, trying to grasp some part of him.

Something brushed my fingers and, before I even had a chance to latch on, his hand grabbed onto my wrist and suddenly I was being pulling forward. I barely had time to let out a yelp before his arms were around my back, holding me and Ansem to him, the boy cradling the back of my head as if to shield my skull from anymore injury. I wasn't quite sure when it happened, how it happened, but sometime during the past few days his touches were starting to become less anxiety inducing and more comforting.

"I've got you!"

I didn't flinch away as much in the hospital when he was braiding my hair back then, either, so I could only assume it was because of something during my wretched stay there. Something that was actually making me reach out for touch. Keeping one hand on his shoulder and the other wrapped around Ansem so not to drop him, I was about to suggest my idea when Brock yelled again.

"W-We need to do something quick!"

"I-I know, just- where's Onix!?"

"Onix? Oh, of course!" Keeping an arm around my waist, Ansem wailing as his claws dug deep into my shoulder, Basil clinging to Brock's backpack while Belladonna cried from somewhere nearby, Brock reached out to his belt. Snatching a pōkeball and enlargening it, he held it up into the air and yelled, "Onix, come out! I choose you!"

Chapter 12 Bit: 

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, bringing the dawn stone up and resting my knuckles against my lips. My voice was muffled, but I didn't care. Everything just hurt so much, yet somehow not enough all the same. The cold, the numbness- it was all there. Amplified. Suffocating. Choking. I could barely think.

"H-he gave… he gave me the stone… t-to remind me. To remind him in case he… he forgot about me."

"...I see." Brock gave my shoulder a light squeeze, seeing how hard I was trying not to break down. "I'm glad he found you, then."

Yeah. But…

"I-I don't remember." Brock's eyebrows shot up, alarmed when he heard the sudden crack in my voice. I looked up at him, bottom lip quivering as a fresh wave of tears welled up. "I-I don't remember him, Brock. H-His face, his name, I- I can't… I can't r-recall…"

I can't recall anything.

Before he could say something to that and before I could say anything else, the woman suddenly spoke up- near flinching back when Ansem snarled at her. "W-We're here! T-Take this staircase and go through the teleporter, and you'll find the control room. See? I-I'll… I'll show you!"

Inhaling sharply, trying to distance myself from my emotions long enough to get through whatever the next encounter was, I pulled away from Brock and picked up the pace, moving my short legs as fast as they would go. I waited until the woman was through the teleporter to go myself, Ansem still being carried and stone back in my pocket, and Belladonna and Basil followed suit. Then it was Brock, then Machamp and Blue, and gradually the rest of the pōkemon…

But we weren't the only group here in the room. Without a word Machamp lowered Blue to the ground, leaving me to struggle in holding him up alone until Brock came over and grabbed the teen by the shoulders. Then the large muscular pōkemon stepped forward, standing in front of us three with Ansem and Umbreon on either side of him. Basil and Belladonna released the woman we were holding captive and she stumbled forward, rushing to the group of Team Rocket goons and… their pōkemon.

They were expecting us.

I mean, I can only imagine how much word got around about us kids when Brock was tending to Blue back in the lab- the people Belladonna knocked out must have woken up and alerted the higher-ups. These people, the adults, were more than ready to fight.

Or, rather, more than ready to have innocent pōkemon do the fighting for them.

The woman we had released whirled around with a gasp, striking the pose every goon had been forced to memorize. It took everything I had not to cringe at the sight of it, instead focusing on making sure I didn't topple over from Blue's body weight. "To infect the world with devastation, to blight all people in every nation! To denounce the goodness of truth and love, to extend our wrath to the stars above! We are Team Rocket circling the earth day and night, and you are just a bunch of brats in our way! C'mon, everyone- group attack!"

Oh no. Okay. Here we go.

A Tauros lowed and stomped a hoof against the floor, a Meowth residing atop its back. Two Zubats flew around them, flapping their wings as they stared at us nervously. Brock scowled, clicking his tongue and using one hand to reach to his belt. "Of course there are several here… Geodude, go! Help out the others!"

"M-Machamp…!" Blue began, voice hoarse from coughing. "Get them!"

"Ansem-!" I was unable to finish. Machamp was suddenly storming forward, locked onto its targets, swinging with all four fists at the Tauros when it charged. I cringed and ducked my head down upon hearing the bull-pōkemon's cries of pain, knowing full well it was fighting against its will. I hated this violence so much. "Belladonna, Basil…"

"Bulba!"

"Weeeepin!"

Vines erupted from their bodies and swung towards their foes, catching the Zubats before they could unleash a devasting flying-attack upon them. Meowth leapt up from the defeated Tauros' back, landing atop Machamp's head and using it to boost itself up again, and slashed at the vines. Basil cried out and loosened his hold, allowing a Zubat to escape, and the pōkemon hurriedly let loose several blades of wind.

Aerial Ace.

Belladonna was sent flying, several cuts lining her body as she crashed into the wall, vines retreated back into her body. Basil let out a concerned shout, but barely had time to recover himself when the second Zubat slammed itself right into him, head ramming into his side. No…

"Stand up!" My voice was panicked. Blue looked down at me in surprise as Brock ordered his Geodude to defend Belladonna as Meowth approached her. He never heard me sound so desperate and scared before. "Stand up now!"

Don't do this.

Don't you dare die.

"Basil!"

We haven't lost a single battle, so there was no way it could happen now. I won't let it.

Bulbasaur struggled to push himself up onto his feet, red eyes watering from the pain. Cuts now lined his legs from Zubat using Aerial Ace on him after the headbutt, but his expression was a determined one.

Ansem, seeing the way his companions were harmed, let out an angered roar, deciding to leave Meowth and Belladonna's Zubat alone for now, Geodude taking care of it with Machamp's help, and targeted Basil's Zubat instead. Stretching out his claws, Ansem jumped into the air as high as his legs would let him, and he caught his front paws on the pōkemon's wings, knocking it greatly off balance.

"Vaaaa!"

As they fell to the ground Ansem rolled over, biting down hard into its wings and tearing them. He was furious. The woman from before- the one we had guide us here- was glaring daggers at us, shaking with her fists held to her side in a rage. The other Team Rocket goons were both startled and very much angry, unable to believe they were now losing the battle. Worse of all, it was to a bunch of kids and their pōkemon.

Feeling Blue's weight increase I shifted in place, standing on my toes in an attempt to straighten my back and keep Blue from leaning over too much. Unfortunately, that was quite difficult as I was the smallest human in existence and these two were hecking towers in comparison. I could feel the heat coming off of Blue's face due to his fever- his heart pounding desperately in his chest in an attempt to keep him breathing. It was very unnerving.

"W-Weezings!" I glanced behind me as best as I could, trying to get a look at the other pōkemon, but auburn hair was in the way. "C-Can you help? Please?"

"Weeez?" They looked at me, surprised. "Weezing?"

The many Weezings looked at each other. If memory served right, these pōkemon had a variety of very useful moves- assuming they've already learned them, of course, and Belladonna was a bit too hurt to use her Sleeping Powder special on them.

"Weez…"

"Weez, Weezing!"

"Weez!"

"O-On the Team Rocket members!" I continued, voice cracking a little. Brock stopped issuing orders and looking back at me, alarmed. Then a bright grin spread across his face.

"Grunt, you're a genius!"

That was the wrong thing to say. The higher-up Team Rocket members shared a glance, their faces paling and somehow becoming disbelieving and enraged all at once. "Wait, what?"

"Grunt?"

One of them pointed at me, narrowing his eyes. "You're the escapee from headquarters? You? I knew you were a child, but… how old are you!? Eight?" The gaped, dumbfounded, and I tensed upon hearing their words. I was starting to believe that maybe going by my old title was a bad idea, and that maybe I should just go around titleless and nameless. "The fuck? Holy Arceus- if we bring you back to the boss…"

"We'll be promoted again!" A female Team Rocket member gasped, pressing her hands to her face. The woman from before looked exasperated by their behavior, her main goal being revenge for how we treated her. "And their pōkemon… they might be ours!"

"Who cares about that?" Another exclaimed. "Think of the pay raise!"

"Wow," Blue choked out, trying to joke, "you're famous, huh?"

My expression went blank at that, disliking the attention I was receiving. A flash of purple in the corner of my eyes snapped me back into attention, and I raised my head with wide eyes to see the many Weezings floating forward, Machamp carrying Belladonna and Basil back to us while Ansem removed his fangs from a fainted Zubat.

The Weezings continued forward, not stopping until they were past our pōkemon and residing over the fainted ones, facing the Team Rocket goons with a strange look in their eyes. The poison-type pōkemon looked angry, hurt, scared… and very fierce. "W-Weezings?"

Suddenly, and without warning, they all surged forward- flying over the crowd to the goons and headbutting them as hard as they possibly could. On impact the Weezings let out huge clouds of grey and purple smoke, causing the Team Rocket goons to start coughing as the smoke filled up the area. The many Zubats behind us, the ones we freed, decided they wanted to help out as well- swinging their wings forward and causing air blades to shoot towards them, slicing at the goons and tearing up their uniforms.

I tried not to flinch away this time upon hearing their screams, but it was too much. I just… couldn't not close my eyes. Machamp setting Basil and Belladonna by my feet, he dashed back into the action with Geodude, Ansem following behind. Together they all attacked the goons, knocking them out hard as they collapsed onto the ground. I think I heard a nasty crack from one of them, probably from the one Machamp punched in the ribs, but…

No. You know what? I'm not…

I'm not going to think about it. I cringed and shook my head, eyebrows knitting together as pain temporary flickered onto my expression. I tightened my hold on Blue's arm and waist, shifting once more as I nearly lost balance from standing on my toes for so long. "Um, frick. Okay. Uh- Brock, I-"

"I'm on it."

"Huh?" I blinked, eyes opening and turning to see him walking over there where the adults and pōkemon were, the Weezings' smoke clearing. He still had to hold part of his hood over his mouth so he wouldn't start coughing, since there was quite a bit left, but it was otherwise okay for him to head into it. "What are-"

Oh.

He knelt down, patting the adults down in an attempt to find what I could only assume to be a keycard or remote, or anything that would help us get out of here. He tossed whatever pōkeballs he found onto the ground, leaving Machamp to stomp on the empty ones- while freeing the others that remained inside. Brock also rummaged through their bags, pulling out several super potions and berries, and used those on the fainted and injured pōkemon.

Blue and I slowly waddled our way over there, and upon seeing the pōkemon's confused stares and the way the boys were looking at me… I had to greet the previously abused pōkemon. It was very awkward and uncomfortable, and it was only thanks to the other rescued pōkemon jumping into the conversation that the newly freed ones calmed down. It was mess.

Meowth looked especially lost.

"Meow…?"

A Weezing floated down and spoke to it. Understanding dawned on its face and relieved tears welled up in the pōkemon's eyes.

"Mrrooooooow!"

Haaaah, I need to get out of here. Brock shoved the remainder of the supplies into his own backpack, deciding that Team Rocket didn't need these supplies if they were just going to use them for villainy, and he slid the straps over his shoulders. Standing, he let out a heavy sigh and looked up, smiling softly at Geodude as he floated over. "Hey, buddy. You did great out there!" He raised a hand, petting the pōkemon lightly on the head.

"Geooo!" Geodude beamed, proud of himself. Shortly after, Brock recalled the pōkemon back into its ball. The boy turned, staring at the large array of computers behind him.

"I… think this might be the control panel you were talking about, Grunt."

Yeah. Yeah, he calls me by my title way too often.

He was a stupidly nice person, but every time he called me by that title it always sent whatever Team Rocket goon we were battling into a fury. And while, strategically, it could be a good thing as that meant the opponent would stop thinking clearly and act on impulse… it mostly depended on the person we were dealing with. And while deciding not to go by it anymore would prevent that from happening, chances are Team Rocket will now recognize me no matter what since so many have seen what I look like.

So… what should I do?

I bit down on my lip, thinking deeply as I glanced around at the many screens and buttons. They were all so familiar to me, yet strange all the same. How come? It wasn't from the Hoenn base, though I have seen many adults work with the computers there. I watched as Brock began to fiddle with the buttons, Basil marching up and nuzzling his leg, Belladonna and Ansem sitting at my feet. I've come to the conclusion that Basil really liked Brock, which just goes further to show what a kind person he is.

I'm surprised he didn't choose him as trainer instead.

[pokemonislanderprincess]

Contest for the shipping meme?

General:

Rate the Ship -   Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - May and Drew are the personification of “good luck trying to return me without the receipt” while drunk and holding a match up to their marriage certificate. For reference, May is the drunk one holding the lighter, and Drew is in the corner trying not to laugh his ass off. They’re solid, despite the (read: May’s) chaos.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - May and Drew probably got together the quickest out of all of their friends. They both knew within a year of meeting that they liked one another, and it only took about another two years for them to both confess.

How was their first kiss? - They’re about 13, so it’s kind of awkward, very short, but still sweet. Drew gives May a rose after a contest, and they’re already “kind of sort of” dating, so May just kind of leans in and goes for a little peck, which Drew returns.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Drew. In a field of roses and Beautifly very reminiscent where May’s parents got engaged.

Who is the best man/men? - Best Man: Max. Groomsmen: Ash, Brock, Cilan, Clemont.

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Maid of Honor: Dawn. Bridesmaids: Misty, Solidad, Iris, Serena.

Who did the most planning? - May and Drew actually did a lot of the work together, mostly because May knows Drew is more lowkey than her and wants to make sure he’s comfortable with the plans.

Who stressed the most? - May. Her friends heard about every single wedding related nightmare she experienced (and there were a lot.)

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Harley...initially. Solidad eventually convinces them to invite him. They both regret it within five minutes of the wedding.

Sex:

Who is on top? - This is something they tend to compete for, although Drew normally wins out.

Who is the one to instigate things? - May. She loves to flirt.

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - Drew lasts a while. May...not so much.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Heck no! It’s basically a contest, and there can only be one winner.

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - 2

How many children will they adopt? - 0

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Drew

Who is the stricter parent? - Drew

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - May...this is the one thing she’s pretty strict with because she’s really afraid of injuries.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Drew

Who is the more loved parent? - May and Drew’s kids love them equally, but know which parent to go to if they want something specific.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - May. She’s also most likely to bring the snacks to the kids’ activities, go on field trips, etc. She really enjoys socializing with the other parents.

Who cried the most at graduation? - May. She starts crying before the ceremony even starts.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - May. These kids do not want to cross Drew.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Drew

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Drew. Not because he has a limited palette, but because he refuses to eat a majority of junk food. May, on the other hand, eats everything.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Drew, because May buys too many snacks and not enough “real” food.

How often do they bake desserts? - Quite a bit! Baking is one thing May learns to do relatively well, so she enjoys whipping something up from time to time.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - May will eat anything, although she often complains that most salads aren’t filling enough for her. Drew veers more towards salads, but won’t turn down meat based meals, especially when they’re well done.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Both: Drew at home, May out at a restaurant. 

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - May. She’s always reading up on popular or highly rated restaurants and always wants to try them.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - May. It’s happened before. Several times, in fact.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - Drew

Who is really against chores? - May. She just thinks it’s kind of a waste of time because “it’s just gonna get messy all over again.”

Who cleans up after the pets? - They both look after their own Pokemon.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - May. Drew finds her trash and other things all over the place.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Drew used to, but he kind of just gave up at some point. So if people come over and see a mess May left behind, Drew just shrugs it off with a “yes, this is my life.”

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Drew. It’s May’s. Sometimes he gives it back...sometimes he keeps it. Depends on his mood.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - May, although Drew is not quick by any stretch of the imagination.

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - Drew is more likely to be seen out exercising with the Pokemon. May kind of has to be bribed to do it.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - May loves decorating for holidays! It actually gets to be a little garish.

What are their goals for the relationship? - They both love each other and want to have fun, although Drew is more determined to keep their relationship private than May is.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - May

Who plays the most pranks? - May...Drew never even retaliates because he can’t be bothered.

[jayjay547]

SHIELD's Best Podcast and Other Things Bucky Should Not Have Done: Chapter One

Summary: Bucky Barnes: natural poet, amateur author, and relationship expert. The last part was a heavy exaggeration, but he's fooled enough people into thinking so; after all, his advice was held to such high regard that he got a spot on one of New York City's most popular podcasts. He even liked to think he was revolutionary for helping break down the stereotype of relationship experts being perfect at handling relationships. If only someone had asked him for advice on how to deal with falling in love with two different people who were coincidentally in love with each other.

Not that it would have mattered, anyway. Bucky never followed his own advice.

Chapter Word Count: 3,309 words

Relationship: Sam Wilson/Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes

AU: Modern/College

click here to read on ao3

click here for the masterlist 

Bucky didn't ask to be famous. 

Not that he was in the normal sense of the word. No one in New Jersey knew his name, much less anyone on the West Coast. Actually, most people in New York City probably didn't know who he was, but that was okay. He liked to think the people who mattered (meaning people within a half mile radius of him) knew who he was, at least a little bit. 

If one was to go up to a college student about to go into their first lecture of the day at New York University and asked them whether the name "Bucky Barnes," or "James Buchanan Barnes" if it was a day for formalities, rang a bell, the most obvious and common answer would be along the lines of "that writer boy." Not "that failed mechanical engineer," not "the one who can't do any type of science to save his life," and definitely not "the boy who cried in his car while eating ice cream after his ex-boyfriend dumped him." Especially not the last one, even if that particular low moment was just the beginning of his rise to fame. 

He also wasn't quite famous enough to get stopped while walking through hallways, unless it was by an older professor of his; even then, it was a reach. As he walked to his class, nobody really gave him a side glance. He liked to think that the people who did were somewhat appreciative of his looks, but that was wishful thinking, the thinking of someone who was still in the rebound period of getting over a relationship even though the break up was a year ago. 

When Bucky walked into his poetry concentration class, though, he knew more than a few people recognized him. There was only one picture of him that was published with his writing, a professional headshot and all, and while Bucky looked like a wreck most days in his life, it wasn't hard to put two and two together. 

He sat down on one of the benches, shuffling the papers he brought with him around, just to look like he was doing something. Not long after, there was a tap on his shoulder. Bucky braced himself for his first fan interaction of the day (and the month, but he wouldn't tell you that). 

Turning around, he was met by a face that was somewhat familiar to him, even if he couldn't place the name. Maybe she was a fellow writer, or something of that sort. Her blonde hair was tied up in a low ponytail, and the wrinkles near the bottom of her forehead suggested that she spent a hell of a lot of time frowning. "What's up?" Bucky asked, angling his body towards her as best as he could. 

"Are you James Barnes?" Her tone was blunt, the voice of a woman who did not mess around. If she wasn't in his class right now, Bucky would think that she was a Business major. There was always the possibility that she was a double major, but that was a bit excessive. 

"Yes," Bucky said, before quickly (and clumsily) adding, "But I go by Bucky." 

"Bucky," she parroted, as if the nickname was much too personal for her. Maybe it was. "That's from your middle name, right? Buchanan?" 

Up until now, Bucky hadn't had any stalker-type fans, and he was hoping that he would keep that record. Of course, his middle name was published with his work, but still, it was odd. "Yes ma’am,” he responded. 

The woman stuck out her hand, and Bucky shook it. She didn't seem fazed by his gloved hands, and he appreciated the lack of questioning around why he was even wearing gloves inside a warm classroom. “My name's Sharon,” she said. Her handshake was firm, practiced, and Bucky wondered again whether she was in Business. “You're the one who wrote the open letter, right? ‘What's Wrong With City Days?’”

She was much too put together to be a stalker, but who the hell actually knew the title of his first published piece? Bucky didn't even know some of the titles of his own works. “Uh,” he said intelligently, “Yeah. Yes, that's me.” 

Sharon put her hand on the desk in front of her, tapping at it for a second or two, drawing attention to her perfectly manicured nails. Bucky wished his nails looked that nice. “Well, I've read your work, Bucky,” she sighed out, as if it was a tragedy that had happened to her. “And I thought it was superb.”

Maybe she was a little too put together; Bucky wasn't sure he knew anyone who used the word “superb,” much less anyone who used it to describe his work. Stalker wasn't off the list yet. “I'm glad you think so,” he said slowly, before slapping himself mentally. He was being rude. “Sorry, I'm still not used to people reading my stuff. Specifically that piece.” Bucky winced, his mind going a hundred miles per hour. “Kinda wish people hadn't read that piece.” 

Sharon leaned forward, closer to Bucky. “Why not?” She asked gently, taking him by surprise. She looked sincere enough, and he wished he could tell her, but then the door opened. As the professor walked into the classroom, Sharon straightened up, sitting back into her seat, and Bucky took that as his cue to face forward. 

Why not? The question stewed in his head as the professor Mr. So-and-so, who Bucky had missed the name of, promising himself that he would just read the syllabus, started to drone on about basic topics. 

Why not? Maybe because it was around the time he found out that Brock Rumlow had been cheating on him throughout the entire duration of their relationship. Maybe because, right after that, he realized that he couldn't pass any of the classes meant for engineering. Maybe it was because he had then been notified that he had to go in for another round of surgeries on his arm. 

There were a lot of reasons why “What's Wrong With City Days?” hurt. But he had still published it, as a dramatic and overly emotional person does. Correction: Natasha had published it, but only after Bucky told her she could. 

He had written it in between the first and second operation on his arm. The hospital TV didn't play anything he was interested in watching, and staring downwards at his laptop while it played Netflix gave him a headache he couldn't bear to have. So he wrote. And he wrote. And then he napped, woke up, and wrote some more. He may have even written when he was high on anesthesia, which Clint told him didn't make much sense. 

Getting pieces of metal inserted into your arm was apparently the best motivator there was.

He stared ahead at the professor who continued to talk, the words passing through Bucky's head quicker than the man was saying them. It was only the first day of this class, and Bucky knew he would have catching up to do.

His phone screen turned on, placed next to his binder and all his messed up papers, a notification popping up. He swiped it. 

Spider Mom

Walk Lucky when you get back. Ty 

Bucky coughed quietly under his breath to disguise the laugh he felt bubbling up his throat at Natasha’s bluntness. He texted back a quick confirmation before clicking his phone off. Behind him, a pair of eyes bored into his back, so much so that Bucky swore he could feel it. When he turned back, Sharon didn't even disguise the fact that she was looking at him, smiling slightly at him when they made eye contact. As embarrassed as he was to admit it, he looked away first. 

The minutes ticked by as Bucky entered a staring contest with the right-facing wall. His phone lit up a few more times, but he didn't check it. The one portion of exposed brick was getting more and more interesting by the second; Bucky was convinced if he looked at it any longer, he would have enough ammunition to make another viral poem. 

And then suddenly, the lecture ended. Most likely, the end wasn't as sudden to others as it was to Bucky. 

While Bucky was scrambling together the papers that he had put on his desk for nothing, the quiet sound of footsteps coming up behind him alerted him that Sharon was still here, and still interested in talking. 

“Where do you go after class?” She asked briskly, and what was left of Bucky's “Stranger Danger” alarms went off in his head. Against his best interest, he answered her.

“I walk over to Martinelli's, the coffee shop. Do you know it?” He added as her lips tilted up into a half smile at the name. She nodded slightly.

“You could say that. Let me walk you over?” She asked kindly, but something told Bucky that it wasn't really a request. He could obviously say no, but something about her compelled him to accept.

“I could always use the company,” Bucky muttered back, stringing his bag over his right shoulder. Together, they walked out the classroom, and after a few more steps, they entered the outside world.

“So,” Sharon said immediately, as if the cold city air allowed her to talk freely. “I have some questions.” 

“Uh,” Bucky got out. He had only done one interview for his writing, and he had prepared so thoroughly for that one, only for half of his words to be taken out of context. “Go for it.” 

Something that Bucky realized very quickly was that Sharon walked very, very fast. He widened the length of his strides, huffing cold breaths of air as the woman started to speak, barely sounding out of breath. “Do you know what SHIELD's Best is?” 

Bucky's heart skipped a beat, and not because he was struggling to speed walk. SHIELD's Best: the most popular podcast in New York City, not just NYU. There was no real reason why it had the renown that it had; listening to it, though, was explanation enough. If the topic was relevant, it was covered. Bucky even swore multiple times to Clint and Natasha that the podcast covered things that weren't even out yet. They never lingered on the same topic twice, and there was something for everyone, it seemed. It was his source of news, and the source of news for most people in the city. The defining part of it had to be that the four speakers all had undeniable chemistry, not to mention that they also had very, very nice voices, especially the two men. 

“Wait,” Bucky said suddenly, stopping in his tracks. Sharon slowed down with much more grace, turning to face Bucky in the middle of the slightly crowded sidewalk, a smile on her face as if she was already anticipating his question. “Are you Sharon Carter?”

She laughed, and Bucky felt a swell of pride for being correct, followed by a torrent of embarrassment for their entire conversation up until now. “I'll take that as a yes, then,” she murmured, and Bucky forced himself to move towards her as she started to walk again. Sharon Carter, one of the speakers on what was possibly one of the most influential podcasts, was walking with him to a coffee shop. 

The multiple shops passed by as they walked in silence for about a hundred feet, or something like that, which Bucky appreciated. It gave him time to collect his thoughts, and there was a lot to collect. After they passed a few more signs, though, Sharon decided that enough time was given. 

“So you're aware that we have guest speakers?” Sharon asked, and Bucky tripped. At least, he almost did, but he corrected himself right away. He couldn't wipe away the humiliated red that stained his cheeks, though. 

“Yes, I'm aware,” he said, stringing his words together as carefully as possible. He refused to mess up whatever was happening before it even happened. 

“Well, Bucky, we want you to guest speak about your writing,” Sharon said smoothly, as if it wasn't the biggest (positive) thing that had happened in Bucky's life. “I will say it was sheer luck that I have the same class as you this year, but don't think this is just a convenience grab. One of our speakers, Steve, really likes your work.” 

Bucky turned red again, which was not the best look for him, but at least he could blame it on the cold. Steve - amazing, supposedly kind-hearted Steve with a voice that Bucky would die for - liked his work?

It was only after they walked a few more steps that Bucky realized that Sharon was probably waiting for more than a lovesick look from his face. “Yeah, uh,” he got out, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I'd love to. It'd be an honor,” he finally said, and Sharon smiled again. Maybe she could sense his sincerity, as wrapped up in his awkwardness as it was. 

“Sounds good, Bucky,” she murmured in reply, slowing down. In a daze, Bucky realized that they had reached their destination. Out of pure habit, he moved to open the door. It was only after Sharon thanked him and went into the shop that Bucky remembered that she had only said she would walk him there. Once again, anxiety threatened to overwhelm him, his brain piecing together every possible bad impression he had made on the woman. 

“Hey Sharon. Hey Bucky,” was what the two of them heard upon entering the shop. Sharon immediately waved to Bucky’s (kind of) employer.

"Hey Angie. I was just walking Bucky over here," she threw out casually, gesturing vaguely to Bucky, who was still trying to figure out why Sharon was familiar enough with Martinelli to call her "Angie." 

"Cool, cool. Didn't know you guys knew each other," she added, her eyes darting between the two of them. Bucky could have said the same thing back, but his mouth had a tendency to betray him, so he kept it shut. 

"Just met today. So, Bucky," she stated, all professional, "Let's exchange numbers and you can let me know when you get back home so we can discuss times when you're not busy."

Bucky took her phone hesitantly, starting to type in his number as he spoke. "Actually, I live above the shop." 

Sharon's eyebrows went up. "Really?" Bucky nodded as she continued, "I actually haven't met any of the others who live here." 

She had to stop confusing Bucky. His head couldn't take much more thinking. Why would it be a surprise that she hadn't met them? Sharon mistook his blank stare and silence as disdain, adding quickly, "I'm not planning on meeting anyone else today, so don't worry about introducing me." 

"Oh no, it's fine, I was just..." Bucky muttered, handing back her phone carefully. "Thinking. I was just thinking." In front of him, Sharon opened up her messages, clicking the new contact he had made for himself, sending a text. In his back pocket, he felt his phone buzz, but for her sake, Bucky made a show of taking his phone out and checking to see whether he had gotten a text. He had, and he quickly created her contact. 

“So,” Sharon started again, sliding her own phone back into her pocket, a movement that mirrored Bucky's. “We usually record on Saturdays. Does that work for you?”

Bucky nodded, wordlessly, which was an appropriate enough answer for Sharon. “Alright, good. I'll send you some stuff about it later. Basically, you're allowed to pick any piece of work that you would like to share, but let me know which one by tonight. I will then send you a rough outline of questions that will be asked, but try not to practice answers. It's more engaging if it doesn't sound like you're reading off a script.” 

As much as he tried, his mind was still struggling to wrap itself around the information that Sharon was calmly relaying, as if she had practiced it multiple times over, but just enough to still be natural. Her smooth way of speech had to be attributed to the fact that she was on a podcast; Bucky refused to believe that people were just born that charismatic. He nodded again, barely remembering to answer her. 

“Alright,” she said, checking her watch. “I have to go. I'll text you later. It was wonderful meeting you, Bucky.” Her voice was honest, sincere, as was the smile on her face. It was contagious, and he let a small smile slide onto his face as well. 

“It was nice meeting you too, Sharon,” he replied back, just as sincere, earning him a flash of teeth in Sharon's smile before she made her way towards the door, only stopping to give a quick goodbye to Angie. Even after the bell on the door stopped ringing and she was past the sight of the windows, Bucky kept standing there, frozen to the floor. 

“Hey man,” came Angie’s hesitant voice, and Bucky made a small sound of assent to declare that he had heard the woman. A few more seconds without a reply, and Bucky turned around slightly, just enough to see her in his peripheral vision. “Clint mentioned to me that he wanted you to take out Lucky?” 

Bucky groaned, but it was the reality check he needed, at least.

- - - - -

When he finally came home from the long walk, he entered through the back entrance of the shop. From personal experience, bringing the happiest, friendliest golden retriever in through the front of the shop would take from Bucky about an hour of his life. Bucky and Lucky (yes, they rhyme) clambered up the stairway to the small upstairs area with two doors across from each other. The door on the left was closed, signalling to him that Wanda and Pietro, the siblings that lived there, were not home; Wanda liked to leave the door open when she was, claiming it helped with “air circulation.” 

He opened the door to the right, simultaneously leaning down to start loosening the harness around Lucky. For his efforts, Bucky got a slobbery kiss on the cheek which he took in a stride. Closing the door behind him, he unleashed Lucky, who made a beeline for his water bowl. Bucky collapsed on the one tiny couch, leaning his head back on the top of the cushion so he could stare at the plain popcorn ceiling. 

Almost immediately, his phone buzzed. Letting out a long sigh, he fumbled for the phone he had thrown clumsily onto the couch, blinding swiping on the notification once he felt the phone in his hand. 

Sharon 

Saturday, 1:00 pm. Don't worry about eating lunch beforehand. 

Also, let me know what piece as soon as you can. 

He read the text again and again in his head. For the hundredth time, he clarified to himself that it was PM and not AM before making ten alarms for Saturday, starting at ten in the morning and ending at noon. Immediately after, he returned to regarding the messages again, only glancing away to make eye contact with Lucky, who had decided that the only rational thing to do after drinking water was drool on Bucky's leg. 

“Well bud,” he muttered, reaching out to scratch behind the dog's ears absentmindedly. “I'm really doing this, huh?” 

Lucky just stared at him, which was a good enough answer for Bucky to send a quick reply to Sharon, confirming his attendance and assuring that he would, in fact, pick a piece of his writing by tonight. 

“It's just a one time thing,” Bucky said to the rest of the room. “It's a breakthrough, but it's only a one time thing.” 

masterlist

[colbybrocksmolder]

Can You Keep Up? - Colby Brock x Reader (curvy)

“Sam!” Colby whisper yelled. “I swear to god there is someone upstairs.”

Looking at the camera, Sam silently pondered their best move. “Well, lets hide for a few and we’ll see if we hear anything else. We’ll be back in a few minutes guys.” He then shut the camera off.

“Over here”. Colby led Sam to a dark corner of the abandoned building. “I don’t hear anything, but I swear I’ve seen a flashlight like 3 times.” Colby explained to Sam.

“Maybe it’s just another kid like us. We run into other explorers all the time.” Sam replied.

The duo waited it out. After not seeing or hearing anyone for about 10 minutes, they turned the camera back on.

“We’re going to try to get to the roof to place our sticker. We’re just going to try to be extra quiet just in case we run into someone.” Colby said, passing the camera back to Sam.

They made it to the top floor, circling the different rooms trying to find a way to the roof.

“See that.” Colby pointed towards a collapsed staircase. “Guys I don’t think we’re going to make it to the roof.”

“Is there no other way up?” Sam asked, shining his flashlight around.

“I mean, it looks like we can climb those bricks, but then we’d have to jump all the way to that platform.” Colby replied, his tongue sticking out of his mouth and a look of concentration on his face.

“You’re the ninja.” Sam laughed.

“Fuck it. I’ll try.” Colby said, taking off his backpack and making sure his shoes were tied tight. “If I make it you can chuck me our stuff and try to climb up.”

On his first attempt, Colby mis-stepped and skinned his shin, landing back on the concrete ground. “Oh fuck me, that hurt.” He yelled, his leg stinging too much for him to stay quiet.

“Hello?” the boys heard a girl call out. “I’m carrying protection. You don’t want to mess with me.”

“I fucking told you there was someone else here!” Colby whisper yelled. He looked down and realized his hand and shin were covered in blood.

“Hello?” Sam called out. “We aren’t here to hurt anyone. We’re just filming a YouTube video.”

“Deadass?” The girl chuckled.

“I swear on my life.” Colby called back out, laughing at her odd response. “You don’t happen to have a band-aid or something do you?”

Hearing Colby mention a band-aid, Sam looked down finally seeing Colby’s injury. “Oh shit, are you okay dude?”

The girl looked down, the two guys unaware they were being watched. *They look harmless* she thought. *Cute even.* She jumped down from the platform Colby had been trying to get to, scaring the shit out of both of them.

“Jesus Christ, you almost gave me a heart attack.” Colby half shouted, leaning back against the wall and placing his hand over his heart. Hearing her laugh, he looked her up and down. She was a curvy girl, that’s for sure. Cute style. *How the fuck did she make it up there?* Colby thought, his pride slightly wounded. She had on black skinny jeans and a baggy black tank top with holes in it. Underneath you could see what looked like a black sports bra. A few tattoos sprawled across her skin.

“By the looks of the bloody hand print you just left on your shirt, I don’t think a band-aid would help you much.” The girl said, concern on her face. Colby realized he had been staring at her and blushed. “What happened?” She asked, kneeling down by Colby and opening her bag.

“He was trying to jump to the platform you just effortlessly jumped off of.” Sam snarked, still filming. Showing the platform with the flashlight.

“Hey!” Colby laughed. “It was my first try. I would have made it up there.”

“I’m sure you would have, stud.” She laughed. “Can I take a look?”

“Pet names already, baby? You can look at anything you want.” Colby tried to say in a sexy voice, but he hissed when she tried pulling his jeans to the side to see the wound.

“Is this what he does when he’s in pain or is he like this all the time?” she looked at the camera laughing and then at Sam.

“It’s probably a mix of both, honestly.” Sam laughed. “I’m Sam.” He introduced himself.

“My name is y/n.” she replied. “What’s yours?” She asked, looking at the injured boy. *Cute. Definitely cute.* she thought.

“Colby.” He replied. “Y/n, I’d shake your hand, but as you can see.” He waved his bloody hand in the air.

“Well Colby, how do you feel about me cutting the hole in your jeans bigger?” She asked. “You already ripped through a little when you fell.”

“No way! These are the jeans I wore to our first bando!” Colby replied.

“Then your options are to continue bleeding until you possibly pass out or take them off.” She laughed, opening the first aid kit she always kept in her bag.

“Trying to get me naked?” Colby smirked.

“Nah, I tend to go for dudes who can keep up with me.” y/n stared into his blue eyes with a smirk on her face.

Sam laughed, turning the camera on himself. “I’d normally say that Colby has the upper hand in any flirting situation, but I think he’s met his match.”

“Brother! Why are you filming me losing my dignity!” Colby laughed, trying to shimmy out of his jeans. “I could keep up with you. Patch me up and I’ll prove it.” He cockily said, finally getting his jeans over the gash in his leg. Adrenaline was coursing through him, so even though he was in pain, he felt like he had a lot of energy.

“Okay, pumpkin. I’ll even give you a head start.” Y/n joked. “This is going to sting a little bit.” She said, spraying some rubbing alcohol on the wound so she could wipe it clean.

“Fuck, shit, damnit, balls, fuuuuuuck.” Colby said, swearing as quietly as he could.

“I’m sorry.” She replied, giving him a sympathetic look. “Good news, you didn’t go down to the bone. Bad news, you’re going to need stitches.” She reached into the first aid kit, grabbing some butterfly bandages.

“How did you even cut yourself that bad?” Sam asked, dragging the flashlight along the wall looking for where Colby busted his shin. “Oh shit!” he said, walking towards a piece of metal sticking out of the wall. “Your blood is all over this.”

“Jeez, babe.” Y/n said, looking up at the metal bracket hanging out of the wall. “No wonder it went right through your jeans.”

“I..I didn’t even see it.” Colby replied. His mouth had gone dry the second Y/n used another pet name so he kind of stuttered before regaining his composure. “Fuck, that hurts.” Colby shot his hand out, gripping her shoulder.

“I know it sucks, but if it starts to heal open you’ll have a big nasty scar and they may not give you the stitches you need. It’ll take twice as long to heal.” She reassured him. “Why don’t you talk. It’ll distract you.” y/n suggested.

“What should I talk about?” Colby grimaced as she pinched the wound together to add another butterfly bandage.

“Tell me about yourself.” y/n replied.

Sam put the camera on the ledge to continue recording the scene in front of him and sat down next to Colby’s leg to shine his flashlight on the wound so y/n could see better.

“I don’t know what to say.” Colby replied. He realized he had been squeezing her shoulder and quickly retracted his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You didn’t hurt me or anything.” Y/n said in a soothing voice. “Tell me about why you make YouTube videos.” She continued.

“Sam and I were really bored with ‘normal’ life bullshit.” Colby said, using air quotes. “We knew there was something more out there for us.” He hissed, feeling y/n pinch another section of the wound. “And we wanted to help people.” He continued. “I mean, I know you probably don’t believe it, but the sexy specimen before you used to be a lost, insecure, nobody.” He laughed.

Sam chuckled watching Colby ramble.

“Colby, nobody is a nobody.” y/n said, looking up at him. “And it doesn’t matter how sexy you are, everyone is insecure.” Letting her gaze linger a few seconds longer than she intended, she looked back down and continued patching up his leg. *Way to make things serious for no reason y/n! He’s going to think you’re a freak* she internally kicked herself.

“You’re right.” Colby’s voice caught in his throat. “I felt like a nobody. Sam and I found each other and suddenly, I wasn’t so lost anymore. Together we kind of made this goal…this plan to be something bigger than what we were. Once we realized that a lot of our fears and hang-ups were just in our heads, we wanted to help other people get out of that place.” He hissed in pain when she got to a slightly worse part of the gash.

“Two more butterfly bandages and I’ll wrap up your leg. You’re almost there.” y/n reassured him, smiling up at him. “It’s cool that you guys wanted to help people. Kids need someone to look up to that they can relate to.”

“It’s crazy. We’re friends now with some of the people we looked up to.” Colby laughed. “We were 100% balls deep committed to our plan, but we never thought we’d make it as far as we have.”

“So, I take it you guys are pretty big on YouTube?” She asked, finishing up the bandaging by wrapping his leg in an ace bandage to keep the smaller bandages in place.

“We do alright.” Colby smirked at her.

“I meant to ask earlier, but are you okay if we post this on our channel?” Sam asked, walking back to the camera.

“Sure thing.” She replied, “You can put your pants back on now, Colby.”

He laughed. “I kind of forgot I wasn’t wearing any.” She helped him stand so he could carefully slip them over the bandages. “It already feels better.” He said, kind of swaying on his feet. “Fuck, I feel dizzy.”

“You lost quite a bit of blood there, cutie. Let’s not have you fall and hurt yourself again.” She said, putting her backpack on and throwing his arm over her shoulder. “Did you guys drive here?”

“No, we ordered an uber.” Sam said, slinging on his own backpack and grabbing his phone to order another car.

“Well this one needs to go to the emergency room, so why don’t I drive you guys there?” she offered. Colby was leaning quite a bit of his weight on her now that the adrenaline had left his system.

“If you don’t mind, that would literally be perfect.” Sam replied, turning his flashlight towards the direction they needed to walk to get out. “Are you sure you’ve got him?” he asked.

“I’ve got him. Don’t worry.” Y/n looked over at Colby and realized he was staring directly back at her.

“She’s got me, alright.” Colby half slurred, smiling.

The three of them slowly and safely made their way back down to the bottom level. They walked the long way around the field so that Colby didn’t chance tripping over holes in the dirt and grass.

“Let’s get you laid down in the back, Colby.” Y/n said, hitting the unlock button on her car’s key fob.

“Don’t make me sit alone.” Colby said, getting into the back-seat ass first so he didn’t hit his leg.

“Oh, come on, now. You were so cocky upstairs.” Y/n laughed. “Surely you can sit by yourself for 30 minutes while we get you to the hospital. You need the room to keep your leg elevated.”

“I wasn’t being cocky, I was being brave.” Colby said, sticking his bottom lip out and crossing his arms.

“Well keep it up, brave boy. I promise I’ll sit with you in the waiting room.” She said, pushing his hair out of the way and leaning down to kiss his forehead. *Y/n don’t fall for this boy.* she thought to herself.

Once they got to the emergency room, Y/n walked Colby in while Sam parked the car. When Sam walked into the waiting room, he took the clipboard from Y/n and started filling out Colby’s information for him.

“I don’t feel good.” Colby said, leaning his head on Y/n shoulder.

“Sam said you haven’t eaten anything today and you just had a massive adrenaline rush. You’re probably going to feel crappy for a bit.” She replied, putting her arm around him to give him some comfort. “They’ll take you back soon, though. There aren’t many people in here.”

Less than 15 minutes later, Colby’s name was called, and he was taken back to his own private room. “Can my friends come in here when I’m getting stitches?” Colby asked, panicking a bit.

The nurse answered, “You can have one person in here while the doctor is patching you up. After that you can have up to 3. Would you like me to go get someone from the waiting room?”

Colby immediately answered, “Her name is Y/n.”

When the nurse walked out into the waiting room, she called out for y/n. When she explained that Colby could only have one visitor for the next hour or so and that he’d be in the hospital for a minimum of 24 hours, Sam asked to borrow the car. “We were planning on posting this video tomorrow and my laptop is at the apartment. Do you mind if I run and grab it?”

“Not at all! Make sure to grab Some clothes for both of you. And a coffee for me if you don’t mind.” y/n replied, handing him some cash.

“Dude, I’ll buy you all the coffee you want, but keep your money. You’ve helped us so much.” Sam pushed her hand holding the money back towards her. “I’ll grab some food too.”

When Y/n followed the nurse into Colby’s room, his face lit up. “You stayed” he said, reaching out for her hand.

“Of course I stayed. How are you doing, brave boy?” she chuckled, looking at the iv in his other hand.

“Not so brave at the moment. I fucking hate hospitals.” Colby said, visibly uncomfortable. “Was Sam mad I wanted you to come back for the stitches?”

“Not at all” she laughed. “He was relieved. He took my car to go grab some stuff from your apartment.”

“Oh, thank God.” He said, releasing her hand to text Sam something. *I want him to get her one of my hoodies* he thought. Adding phone chargers to the list of shit he text Sam to grab. “They said I have to stay a full 24 hours so they can give me antibiotics and a tetanus shot” Colby said, reaching for y/n hand again.

She pulled a chair up to the hospital bed and grabbed Colby’s hand. “That’s good, though. They’ll be able to make sure you don’t get sick.”

It felt like forever before the doctor walked in and introduced himself. “I hear you have a pretty bad gash.” He said, gently unwrapping the ace bandage from Colby’s leg.

Colby winced, so Y/n answered. “Yeah, we were all on a hike and he fell. Caught his leg on a piece of metal.” Colby squeezed her hand in thanks.

“Oh, boy. You really cut yourself good, there.” The doctor said, leaning down to examine the wound. “Who bandaged this?” he asked, probing the little strip bandages.

“I did.” y/n replied. “I didn’t want it to stay dirty or start to heal open before we could get here.”

“Did you sterilize it?” he asked, looking impressed at her handiwork.

“I flooded the whole wound with rubbing alcohol and used sterile gauze to clean it out.”

“It stung like a bitch.” Colby laughed.

She started to get nervous. “Did I do it wrong?”

“On the contrary. I don’t think I’m going to remove the butterfly bandages or give him stitches. At this point it would reopen the wound and I think it’s better off healing how it is.” He removed his glasses and stood straight up. “We’ll keep an eye on it while he’s here, but Mr. Brock, I think you’re in good hands with this one.”

Colby squeezed her hand and looked over at her. “I think so too.”

The doctor replaced the outer bandages and Informed Colby his other friend could join him whenever. Colby text Sam what room he was in and soon enough, Sam walked in with a much larger backpack on, food in one hand, and a drink carrier in the other.

“How did the stitches go?” Sam asked, handing out the food and pulling out the laptop and phone chargers.

“I didn’t actually end up needing any. Y/n did such a good job, he didn’t want to redo it.” Colby answered, biting into the burger Sam had handed him. “God, this tastes so good. I was starving, brother.”

“You were also suffering from blood loss, so that burger should make you feel a lot better.” Y/n laughed, throwing a few fries in her mouth.

“I feel better already just knowing I don’t have to get stitches.” He replied, inhaling more of his burger.

It was quiet in the room for about a half hour as everyone ate and let the stress of the night slowly pass over them.

“We never filmed an outro!” Sam said, pulling out his headphones and grabbing his camera. “Lets stand on either side of Colby’s bed and do it.” Sam started setting the camera up on the tripod.

“I don’t need to be in it, I can film it for you.” Y/n said, standing up from her chair by Colby.

Colby grabbed her hand before she could walk away. “You’re definitely going to be in it.” He said, smiling up at her.

“Fine, but only because you’ve been a brave boy.” She laughed, messing up Colby’s hair. She stood on one side of the bed while Sam took his place on the other.

“I SURVIVED!” Colby half yelled, clearing his throat and fixing his messed up hair. I’m not quite sure when Sam stopped filming, so I don’t know where you saw us last, but tonight has definitely been an adventure.”

“You’ve got that right. Colby not only lost his dignity, but we made a new friend!” Sam said, gesturing to Y/n.

“And I’ve apparently found two amateurs who need some lessons in climbing” Y/n laughed.

“Hey! I’m hurt! You’re both supposed to be nice to me!” Colby fake pouted.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. These two are awesome. I can’t wait to find their channel and subscribe WHICH IS WHAT YOU GUYS SHOULD DO!” Y/n said, pointing at the camera.

“She’s a natural” Sam laughed. “How about this. If this video gets 100K likes, Y/n will go back to that bando with us and teach Colby how to get on the roof.” Sam said, looking hopefully at Y/n.

“Oh, teach COLBY, huh?” Colby snarked at Sam. “You don’t know how to, either! She’ll teach BOTH of us how to get on the roof.”

“You’re cute when you’re grumpy.” Y/n said, laughing at Colby. “And of course, I’d love to go back.”

They ended the outro after explaining again that Colby was fine and that he’d be able to go home tomorrow night.

After they talked for a bit more, Sam had his headphones in editing and Colby saw y/n gathering her things. “Are you leaving me?” he asked, a sad look on his face.

“I assumed you’d want to get some rest.” She answered, walking to the side of his hospital bed and grabbing his hand. “Sam has my number so we can definitely get you guys that second video.”

“But what if I don’t want you to go?” he stuck his bottom lip out and stared up at her with his big blue eyes.

“You need rest, Colby.” y/n said, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “So do I, actually. I practically carried your ass down 5 flights of stairs.” She laughed.

Laughing, Colby scooted away from the side of the bed Y/n was standing by. “I see a perfectly good bed right here.”

“If you think my thicc ass self is going to fit in that little sliver of bed, you may have hit your head when you hurt your leg.” y/n said covering her mouth because she laughed so loud.

“yyyyy/nnnnn” Colby dragged out your name whining but also laughing. “I’m hurt. I need cuddles. I even had Sam bring you my favorite hoodie so you’d be comfy.” He finished scooting over so you’d have a little more room.

“Oh, fine. You big baby.” Y/n gave in. Plugging her phone in to charge, she grabbed the hoodie and slipped it on. She slipped off her vans and gently crawled into the hospital bed with Colby. “If we get in trouble for this, you’re taking the blame.”

“Fine with me.” Colby said, pulling y/n towards him so that she half laid across his chest. “Put your leg over here.” He said, waiting for her to throw her leg over his uninjured one.

“I don’t want to hurt your other leg.” She said, hesitating.

“You won’t. Just cuddle with me, damnit.” He chuckled, pulling y/n tighter to him.

After a few minutes of giggles and getting comfortable, Colby broke the silence.

“I never said thank you.” He said, thinking back to the events that had taken place. “Tonight could have gone so wrong for so many reasons.” He shuttered imagining that someone dangerous could have found them while he was injured, or he could have passed out leaving Sam to panic alone.

Y/n felt Colby shake and looked up at him. “Don’t worry about it. Things happen for a reason. You’re safe and I’ve got 2 great new friends.” Y/n studied the look on Colby’s face. He looked sad almost.

“No, I need to properly thank you.” He looked down at her, running his hand over her hair. “You don’t know how often Sam and I run in to people that just don’t care. You corrected me earlier tonight. You said that nobody is a nobody and that everyone has insecurities.” Colby paused, sighing. He stared at the ceiling. “I may have felt like a lost, insecure nobody when I was a kid, but honestly LA and fame and followers…It makes me way more insecure than I ever felt as a kid. Sam and I have very few real friends out here. We’re constantly making “friends” that just want something from us. And tonight, you risked your own safety to help us. You didn’t know if we would hurt you. You didn’t know we were famous. You helped us without expecting anything in return. I will never be able to thank you enough.”

Looking up at Colby, y/n saw that he was still staring up at the ceiling. She felt sad for him. “Colby.” Y/n said, reaching up to pull his gaze down to hers. “You know you deserve good things, right? You may live in a fake ass city, but I’m willing to bet that the people who meet you…even the ones that want to use you for fame, are better people because they met you. I’m very grateful I chose tonight to go to that abandoned building.”

“The doctor gave me pain meds, so if you’re mad at me for this you can blame the meds.” Colby said before leaning down and pressing his lips to y/n’s. “I’m very grateful you chose tonight to go to that bando, too.” Colby stared down at her for a few seconds before leaning back and pulling her tighter to his side. “Let’s get some rest, babe.”

Y/n could feel her lips tingle as she buried her face in Colby’s chest. She wanted to say something back, but she felt like she would ruin the moment.

Soon the both of them drifted off, exhausted from the crazy night they shared. Sam had stayed up sitting at the counter editing, consuming copious amounts of caffeine and trying to finish the video on time. It was almost 3AM when Colby had been taken to his room at the hospital and it was now almost 8am. When he decided he needed to stretch his legs, he took his headphones out and turned towards the other two. He hadn’t even realized Y/n had crawled into bed with Colby. As he gazed over their intertwined bodies, he couldn’t help but smile. Colby had text him a few times about y/n as the night had played out and Sam could tell that he really liked her. Sam grabbed his phone and snapped a few pictures of them. He took a short walk through the hospital hallways to stretch his legs and went back to finish the video.

A short while later, a nurse came in to check on Colby.

“Aren’t they cute” She said, looking to Sam.

“They aren’t going to get in trouble, are they?” he asked, ready to wake them up.

“No, no, sugar. Don’t worry. The doctor won’t be back in here to check on him until around noon because you guys came in so late. I’m just going to write down his numbers and replace his IV bag and I’ll be out of here.”

Sam had finished editing the video and was using his wifi hotspot to upload it to YouTube. Y/n had given Sam her Instagram handle when he asked her what link she wanted in the video description. Waiting for the video to finish uploading, Sam went to follow her on Insta.

“Holy shit” he said, scrolling through her pictures. He realized he was already following her and that she had almost 3 million followers. Y/n’s Instagram didn’t have a single photo of herself. In fact, no one knew what she actually looked like or that it was a her. It was filled with beautiful graffiti art that she painted over bad or harmful graffiti. She would post before and after photos. She covered up racial or homophobic slurs, bad words, hateful phrases…And what she left were beautiful murals that rebelled against those slurs.

The post she had made right before meeting Sam and Colby was 2 photos from the building they had just been in. A before picture of graffiti someone had left saying “I’m worthless.” And an after picture of a mural she had painted. It was big and bright. It was of 2 people embracing each other with the words “You are worth the world” written above and below them, framing the art.

Sam liked the photo and scrolled back to the newest photo she had posted. It was a screenshot of something she had written in the notes app on her phone. It said, “I met 2 amazing people tonight.” The description under the photo read “You’re finally going to find out who I am. Make sure to Subscribe to Sam and Colby to catch the big reveal.”  

Sam laughed and pulled up a new post. He picked one of the photos he had taken of Y/n and Colby cuddled together in the hospital bed and wrote out his caption. “Sometimes when you least expect it, the best people walk into your life. New video up in 10! Make sure you don’t miss it! (ps, Colby is alive and safe. Please don’t freak out because of the hospital room. Watch the new video for the full story!)

Sam changed the video from unlisted to public and hit save. He tweeted out a few things from his twitter and the duo twitter. He uploaded the thumbnail to his Instagram story, and laid across the chairs that were in the room. He turned his phone on silent and fell asleep.

Colby woke up a bit later to the Doctor messing with his bandage. “Sorry to wake you.” The doctor quietly said.

Colby rubbed his eyes, squinting from the bright lights. “It’s okay. Do I have to wake her up or can I let her sleep?” he asked, looking down at Y/n. She was still tucked into his side, her hair flung wildly across her face and his chest.  

“You don’t have to wake her.” The doctor chuckled. “It sounds like you guys had a long night. The nurse said your friend there didn’t go to sleep until a little over an hour ago” He added, pointing at Sam.

“He must have been up editing.” Colby answered.

“Are you in much pain?” The doc asked, wrapping Colby’s leg back up.

“My leg is throbbing.” He answered honestly.

“I figured your pain meds had worn off.” The doctor said, getting ready to leave. “I’ll send the nurse in with some more and then you should get some more rest.”

“Thank you.” Colby answered, grabbing his phone and waiting for the nurse.

He opened Instagram and scrolled through his feed. He stopped at Sam’s post. He liked the photo and then read the caption. He noticed that Sam had tagged Y/n so he clicked on her profile. He was met with the same shock Sam was. “I already followed you and I had no idea.” He said, looking down at the sleeping figure beside him in awe. Hers was one of his favorite Instagram accounts. She brought so much beauty into the world.

He clicked on the story feature on his own profile. Holding his phone out far enough to get both y/n and himself in the frame, he started talking. “Hey guys, I’m sure that by now a lot of you have already watched the video. I haven’t had a chance to watch the footage because I’ve been in the hospital sleeping” he laughed, his eyes dropping down to Y/n. “I’m alive and fine, but last night was crazy. So, make sure you swipe up and watch it. I hope this beautiful girl is going to be in many more videos with us, so make sure you follow her, as well. I think many of you will be surprised to find you already follow her. I sure was.” He ended the story, added a filter, added the link, and sent it to his profile.

The nurse walked in and handed Colby some pain meds to swallow with a cup of water.

He thanked her and laid back in his bed. While he waited for them to kick in, he thought about how crazy the last 12 hours have been.

He grabbed his phone one more time, opening up the twitter app. He decided to take what Sam had written and tweet it out. With a spin.

“LA may be a fake ass city, but sometimes when you least expect it, the best people walk into your life.”

He closed his phone, brushed the hair out of Y/n’s face, pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, and fell asleep.

[lowlywriter]

Win Me Over

Been working on this fic for a few days, and I finally had the motivation to finish it! It’s super fluffy because I’m really happy. I went to a cooking competition with my classmates and our school ranked second place, Provincially. 

Anyways, a pick-up line fic because I couldn’t sleep without imagining Colby delivering stupidly cute pickup lines like the adorable idiot he is at random times.

Warnings: Swears 

Word Count: 2,985

It had all started the day you were finally in one of Colby’s videos for the first time. It had been a joke. His video was a girlfriend tag- despite the reality that you guys were not in fact actually dating. Interested in each other, yes, but nothing was set in stone.  

You hadn’t even been focused on what was happening. Colby had told you he needed a couple minutes to find some questions before staring down at his phone- so you took out your phone as well.  

“Is your name Google?” Colby questioned into the silence. You looked up from your phone, seeing if he was addressing you or one of his roommates, but he was still focused on his phone. It took you a second to process his words, contemplating what you thought you heard. “Because you’ve got everything I’ve been searching for.”

You stared at him for a second, the cogs in your mind turning as you attempted to make sense of the situation. Colby glanced up from his phone, having not been looking at you whilst he spoke. Finally, when your mind caught up to you, you started giggling at him- and then you were full out cackling.  

The way he’d delivered the terrible pick-up line had you hunched over, stomach aching as you laughed. It had been so serious. He’d read it without glancing up, clearly not expecting quite the reaction he’d gotten from you.  

“N-no, Colby!” You wheezed, eyes tearing up as you laughed- physically in pain from the sudden outburst of giggles. “That was terrible!”  

As you wheezed a couple breaths, laughs in between, you could see a huge smile spreading across Colby’s face. His eyes shining with mirth and a hint of evil peeking through.  

This would be the start of something either very good, or very bad.

---

Shopping was fun. You and Colby had a mutual like of shopping. There was nothing better than just getting in Colby’s car and heading out for a meal and hitting up the mall.  

You’d both been slowly collecting bags from the places you shopped. Colby was quite the shopper, and he could easily keep up with you. He usually had more fun then you shopping- he did have more to spend, but he always bought you nice things. Even if you weren’t an actual couple, the two of you still acted couple-y in public. You had to admit, the two of you were practically dating, each just childishly dragging out all the actually talking and stuff.  

“Y/NNNN” Colby whined at your side, dragging out your name, and sticking his bottom lip out in a pout.  

“Colbyyyy,” you returned, copying him with a smile. You had a couple bags, having only just gotten out of the third store the two of you had planned on visiting. Colby had a couple more then you, holding all of them in his right hand.

“Your hand looks super heavy.” Colby said, “here, let me hold it for you.” It happened fast, he slipped his hand in yours and intertwined your fingers with his. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze as he pulled you along with him.  

Your brain threatened to stop you from moving to process what had just happened, but Colby dragged you along to your next destination.  

“Now, now, Mr. Brock. That was pretty smooth.” You told him once you’d finally had a second to process his words, squeezing his hand in approval as you fell into step with him again. It had been super smooth, and you had to admit it. He tilted his head towards you, casting a small smile.

“I know,” he answered, “did it impress you?”

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’, “you’ll have to try a lot harder than that, buddy.”

---

There weren’t many video games you liked to play. You could watch other people play them, but actually playing them, yourself didn’t occur often. Today was one of those days you decided to play a bit. You and Katrina had settled down in the living room to play a few rounds of some game Kat had suggested.  

Devyn was sitting off to the side, hanging out with the two of you, but not actually playing the game.  

The men of the house had been outside the last time you’d seen them- recording something for Jake’s channel if you remembered correctly.  

The sliding glass doors were open a bit so Navi and Buddy could join them outside as they pleased. The sounds of the boys goofing off and acting out in silly voices travelled into the house on occasion, causing the three of you to giggle at them.  

You’d been quite focused on your game, attempting to beat Kat who clearly played more then you had and was effortlessly kicking your ass. You didn’t bother looking up when the sliding glass door was pushed open all the way, and the guys trailed into the kitchen.  

You did, however, glance up when you felt a presence behind you. You’d been perched comfortably with your back against the arm rest of the couch, legs up on the cushions, folded up under you with your torso turned towards the television.  

You quickly focused back on the game when you noted that it was just Colby standing behind you. You felt his chin drop onto the top of your head. You lifted a hand off your controller, chancing losing control over your character in order to swat him away.  

Your attempt was futile as he simply moved to rest his chin on your shoulder and watch you play for a second.  

“Do you like sales?” Colby leaned closer; lips resting against the base of your neck, whispering quietly to you. You were very focused on the game, choosing to ignore him for a second while you bashed buttons on the controller. Of course, he chose the moment when you were struggling the hardest to open his mouth, “because if you’re looking for a good one, clothing is one-hundred percent off in my room...”

Your fingers stilled on the controller, his words slowly short circuiting your brain. Your jaw dropped, cheeks flushed with colour and your eyes widened.  

“Colby!” you gasped, turning slightly to push his smug face away from your head. “Gosh!” You groaned, letting the controller fall from your hands so you could cover your burning face. You knew Devyn and Kat staring at you, and you could practically feel the smugness radiating from Colby.  

Colby laughed, leaning close once more to press a kiss to your neck before standing straight, and finally following the rest of the guys into the kitchen to probably continue filming (guessing by the screams and high-pitched whines).  

“What did he say?” Kat questioned, looking your direction with a knowing look. The game was over, and Kat had been victorious since you’d lost all brain functions when Colby leaned over your shoulder. Devyn smirked, sending you a knowing look of her own.

“Another pickup line,” you laughed, cheeks finally starting to return to their regular colour, “he’s getting better. God, that one just shocked me.”

Devyn laughed, “you two should just date already. Make it official.”

“I agree, you guys are so cute together,” Kat agreed with a nod of her head. “Think of the double dates, Y/N- me, you, Sam and Colby. That would be amazing!”

“We already do that,” you reminded Kat, laughing as you prepared for Kat to start a new game.

“Yeah, but it would be, like, an official double date.”

“Well, when one of his pickup lines impresses me, we can go on a date,” you giggled. The longer you held off, the more pick up jokes he’d come up with. A girls gotta have some fun, and what’s more fun than unexpected pickup lines?

---

“Y/N, Y/N!” Colby ran into the room. You were in the kitchen, making sure the pizza rolls you were cooking for the group didn’t burn. Sam, Corey, Aaron, Jake, Devyn and Kat were all in the living room. Everyone was conversing about videos they wanted to make, and who they’d want to be in each video, as well as a few trap house skits for Jake’s channel. Aaron was also playing Fortnite, so that held a lot of the group’s attention.  

“What, Colbs?” you questioned, looking up from reading a random paper of someone’s video idea that had been left on the counter. There was always something new or interesting in the kitchen, whether it was the whole kitchen being covered in a layer of tinfoil or a huge ass snake taking up residence on the counters.

“Would you grab my arm?” Colby asked hurriedly, holding his arm out. You looked at him questioningly. It wasn’t the weirdest thing you’d ever been asked to do in the trap house, but it was random. Something in the back of your mind reminded you that you were in the trap house, and everything usually had some sort of backlash. Especially during the prank wars.  

“Uh,” you reached over, uncrossing your arms in the process. You grasped around Colby’s forearm, squeezing for a second, “like this?”  

“Yes, perfect!” Colby grinned; eyes bright as he eyed your face. You returned a small smile, squeezing once more before letting him go and resuming your lean against the counter. Colby didn’t do anything but beam at you for a second, eyes bright as his eyes scanned up your body.

“Now I can go tell my friends I’ve been touched by an angel!” Colby grinned, a sly look in his eyes as he turned on his heels and jogged out of the kitchen and into the living room. You blushed brightly as you listened to Colby doing just that in the living room: “Guys, you’ll never believe it, but I was just touched by an angel in the kitchen!”

You lifted your hands to cover your face, groaning lightly with an embarrassed smile on your face. He was having a good ol’ time teasing you- just as you were having fun dragging out your answer to his pickup lines.  

---

“Why does the fire smell like shit?” Jake questioned. Everyone was sitting around the campfire in the backyard of the trap house. With Jake, Sam, Colby, Corey, Aaron, Devyn, Kat and yourself, who had finally arrived, and the fact that there was a total of five lawn chairs, there simply weren’t enough chairs for everyone.  

You’d been invited over by Colby for a session of marshmallow roasting and smores buildings with the roommates. The sky was dark, but clear and it was just chilly enough for a fire to be relevant on this specific Tuesday evening.  

“You keep burning plastic in it,” Sam glared, “it’ll burn off, give it some time.”

You giggled to yourself as you listened to the conversation, moving slowly into the backyard to join the group. It was never a dull moment when the group was all together.  

“Hi, Y/N!” Colby greeted you first. You had texted him when you pulled into the driveway, so he knew you’d only be a few minutes, and he was definitely waiting for you.  

“Hi, Y/N,” the group repeated, monotone and sounding as if you’d just introduced yourself at an alcoholics anonymous meeting. You couldn’t help but laugh at them- which in turn made them all laugh as well.

“Hi, everyone,” you smiled. Conversation continued amongst the group, so you took the chance to scan the group. You looked for anywhere to sit, since being the last to arrive meant that every chair was already taken. Colby, Kat, Corey, Aaron and Jake all had seats. Sam was sitting on the ground in between Kat’s legs and Devyn was sitting on the arm rest of Corey’s chair.  

You moved quickly to sit beside Sam on the ground. It seemed as if it was the easiest option, and you really didn’t mind sitting on the ground for a bit. You moved in between the semicircle of the lawn chairs and the flickering flame to make it to a safe spot- only to squeak as something- someone, grabbed your hips and pulled you down.

“Colby, you ass,” you whined, heart beat speeding up in fear. You curled into Colby’s lap, drawing your legs up and dropping them over Colby’s legs. You settled your shoulder against him (almost diagonally in his lap), leaning close and stealing his body heat. You’d thought you were getting pushed at first, and an open flame is certainly not the best place to be horsing around.  

“Sorreh, sorreh,” Colby hummed, voice raised an octave to get a laugh from those around.  

The group once again fell into the easy conversation. Some roasted marshmallows, others just hung around the heat. You really liked when the whole trap house was like this. No one was being too much to make a video entertaining. Conversations could be normal and fade in and out- not needing to be a constant for viewers entertainment, and everyone was just calm and collected.  

You snuggled closer to Colby, full of a couple smores that Colby made for you, as well as a few bites of his.  

“You know what you’d really look beautiful in?” Colby leaned close to your ear; voice low. You knew only you could hear him; he was being very quiet, and the flames of the fire were crackling loudly into the calm night.  

“What would I look beautiful in?” You questioned quietly. You’d known you guys would be out by the fire, so you’d worn one of Colby’s sweatshirts that you’d maybe stolen and a pair of sweats. Colby leaned back in the chair, and you followed, resting against him completely as if he were the back of the chair. He didn’t respond for a second, everything besides the flames silent.

“My arms,” Colby said finally, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against him.  

He paused, studying you curled up in his lap, wrapped tightly in his arms, “I was right,” he added softly into your hair.  

Andddd, once again Colby had you blushing. He always whispered the sweetest (or dirtiest) pickup lines he had. These ones were the special ones, because they were the ones he didn’t want to share with his friends. He was whispering them just to you, something for the both of you and no one else. He was so cute, always finding cute moments to say them- which only added to it.  

Colby sent you a small fond smile, then turned his head to join in the conversation starting with his friends. You didn’t say much, just enjoyed the atmosphere.

---

“Did it hurt when you fell?” Colby questioned. He was turned towards his computer, editing his newest video. He had his earphones on, but only one ear was covered, and the ear closest to you had the earphones behind his ear instead of on it.  

You were lounging on his bed. The two of you had planned on going out for dinner, but his editing was apparently taking a tad bit longer than he thought it would’ve. It never bothered you to just lay in Colby’s bed or lounge on his couch while he worked.  

“From heaven?” You snorted, flopping over so you were laying on your side, facing towards Colby’s desk. “Come on, Colby- that's not very original. Yes, it hurt.” That pickup line was over used, and you were surprised Colby was even trying it after all these creative ones he’d found that you’d only heard once or twice- or even never before.  

“No,” Colby swiveled in his chair to face you, a cheeky grin on his face, “did it hurt when you fell for me?”  

You opened your mouth to respond, thinking hard about his words- but nothing would come out but a sputter of letters.    

“You just admitted you’ve fallen for me!” Colby cheered, taking off his headphones and waltzing towards his bed, a huge shit eating grin on his face. “That only took a few weeks, but I finally won!”

“That wasn’t a win!” You argued, sitting up as Colby kneeled on the bed beside you.

“Yahuh!” Colby laughed, “you said yes! ‘yes, it hurt!’” Colby repeated, leaning towards your face. “Awh, babe, I’m upset it hurt when you fell for me,” Colby mocked teasingly, blinking his eyelashes closed in a pouty way.

You pouted, crossing your arms across your chest. It was probably time for your little cat and mouse game to end. You’d waited out for long enough, and you were tired of not being able to call Colby yours.

“Fine, you win. You won me over with your stupid, but super adorable pickup lines,” you sighed, flopping back against the pillows. Colby grinned like the Chesire cat, crawling over and settling himself with his knees on either side of your waist and his hands on either side of your head.

“Finally. Do I have to ask for you to be my girlfriend, or is it a mutual agreement?”

“Mutual.” You decided, figuring you’d made him suffer more than enough for a couple days, “I have a deal for you though, boyfriend.”  

“Oh yeah?” Colby raised an eyebrow, lowering his face to be closer to yours, “and what might that be, girlfriend?”

“I’ll give you a kiss. If you don’t like it, you can return it.” Colby stared at you shocked for a second before he laughed loudly, finally pressing a kiss to your lips. Your pickup line game was on point.  

“I’ll return it...  but I might need a few more trials before I decide if I actually want to keep it.”

“You’re an idiot,” you laughed, pushing his chest away as he laughed as well.  

[annab-nana]

Love Her  - Colby Brock

Based on “Love Her” by the Jonas Brothers, it’s a series of little stories of the ups and downs of a relationship with Colby.

A/N: I loved writing this. It was a new style for me and I kinda dig it, so if y’all wanna request more song fics, that would be great.

Requested by an amazing anon 💙

Warnings: some curse words

Word Count: 1.9k+

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

Drive me crazy, make me mental

No other buttons she can push

“What are you doing?” you asked Colby for the third time. You had spaced out the times you had asked him pretty well, but you were honestly just bored and wanted to snuggle up to him and watch a movie or something. However, you laid in his bed alone. He was in bed with you earlier, but when he left to go to the bathroom, he sprawled out on the couch instead. You wanted to get up and lay with him there but sensed some sort of tension, so you stayed put. Y’all had been on your phones the whole time, but he had recently switched to his laptop and you wanted to know why.

“The same thing I was doing earlier, y/n. Work stuff,” he let out with a huff. Maybe he was stressed or maybe he was tired of you. You didn’t know, but you felt bad for being there. You walked into his bathroom to use it for a minute before entering his room again and plopping down on the bed. Since you were bored and Colby didn’t seem to be available, you got on TikTok but made sure you turned your volume down a lot so it wouldn’t bother him, but he somehow still heard it.

“Do you want to go home? I can take you home if you want,” Colby offered, but by the tone of his voice, it came out slightly harsher than he intended. You paused your video and tried to stop the tears that sprung into your eyes. He is just a little stressed. That’s it. It’s not your fault, y/n. He’s not mad at you. You told yourself.

“Do you want me to go home, Colby? It sounds like you don’t want me here,” You stated sternly as you fought back the tears and sat up on the bed. His eyes met yours and immediately softened when he saw your expression. He walked over to you and sat next to your figure.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just got a lot to do today and haven’t had the time to spend with you that I should have. I thought I’d have more time when I invited you, but stuff came up. I’m sorry, sweetheart. Let me finish up a few more things and then I’m all yours, okay?” He asked as he brought his fingers to your chin to direct your face to look at his. Lightly, you nodded your head and gave him a small smile. He planted a chaste kiss to your cheek before finishing up the last of his work things for the day.

One second she’s Miss Sentimental

Then she’s afraid she’s said too much

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Colby asked after he noticed you had not said much in a while, which is very unlike you. You were normally quite the chatterbox, but he didn’t mind it. You laid with your back against his chest in one of the blue lounge chairs that sat by the pool. You and Colby always loved to go out and look at the stars, and lately, this was your favorite spot to do so.

“Just thinking,” you whispered as you gazed at a particular star that was twinkling brightly in its spot in the endless darkness of the wide open sky.

“What about, princess?” He pressed and you smiled as you looked up at him.

“Remember when we first did this?” You questioned and he hummed in response. You continued on with the story of how Colby had driven you to a place out on the edge of the city that had a lookout where you could see Los Angeles and all of its beauty. You two stayed there that night, looking at the beautiful view of the large city and all of the stars that inhabited the sky.

“And then we accidentally fell asleep for a bit and woke up and saw that it was almost morning time and watched the sunrise.” You finished the lengthy story before hearing Colby’s chuckle reverberate in his chest beneath your head.

“You know you can tell me to shut up sometimes. I know that I talk a good bit,” You muttered as you turned your attention back to the flickering lights that were sprinkled throughout the dark space above.

“Now, why would I do that? I love to listen to you and to hear your voice.” His words warmed your heart and you placed a kiss to his arm that was wrapped around you.

Opposites attract and we’re the living proof of this

But I keep comin’ back like a magnet

“You and y/n are so different. So, the people want to know how you two make things work? Do you ever get annoyed or tired of or angry with the other?” the interviewer asked Colby after Sam got finished with a question about him and Kat.

“Well, in every relationship, you get aggravated with the other. Sometimes, you get angry, and sometimes, you need your space. You can ask any of our friends and you can ask Sam. Y/n and I are complete opposites.” Colby pauses as Sam nods his head and agrees.

“But I think that’s the beauty of us and our relationship. I am extremely focused on work and am very deep and emotional and I get upset more than she does. She is so bubbly and happy all the time. She’s carefree and loves everything. I don’t think there is one thing that she hates. She’s like a light in my kinda dark life and I love that about her. And I like to think I help her when she has feelings like sadness that she isn’t used to feeling. You know what they say. Opposites attract,” he finished with a slight chuckle.

Cause when you love her, no matter the fight

“Ugh! I’m not having this argument anymore,” you huffed as you grabbed a pillow and blanket from Colby’s bed.

“Where are you going?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed and voice annoyed.

“To the movie room. I can’t stay up here with you tonight and I don’t want to get an uber home. You want to be alone, then alone you’ll be,” you spat before slamming his door shut and trudging down the steps until you reached the room you would be staying in for the night. You picked one of the couches that sat in the far back and laid your pillow down on it before laying down and snuggling into the blanket.

You know she’s always right, and it’s alright

You stayed cuddled into the blanket and facing the red wall when you heard the door open. You refused to turn around to see who it was, knowing it was probably him and pretended to be asleep.

“I know you’re not asleep, princess,” He whispered as you felt the couch dip near your feet where he sat, and his hand rubbed gently against your legs.

“It’s kind of hard to go to sleep when a certain asshole won’t leave me alone. Isn’t that what you said? That you wanted to be left alone? I left you alone and look where you are now,” You grumbled before turning away from him again.

“Hey, it’s just been a day for me, okay? You know I like to be alone to-”

“Recharge. I know, but I leave you alone a lot because I know that. I just don’t like it when you invite me over here to hang out then you shut me out, so I have to ask what’s wrong and then you blow up like you did earlier. I am scared that if I leave you alone anymore and if when we’re together and you act like that, then we won’t last very long. I love you, Colby. I really do, but I don’t know how much longer I can sit here and wonder what you’re thinking,” You finished your speech as you watched him nod in agreement and his hand continued to run up and down your leg soothingly.

“You’re right. I need to tell you how I feel so that things like that don’t happen again and I won't leave you wondering. But just don’t leave me alone when you think I need to be left alone. Leave me alone when I tell you I need to be because I want to think that you’re giving me space because I need it, not because you don’t like me anymore,” he confessed.

“You thought I was leaving because I didn’t like you anymore?” You snapped your head in his direction when he said that, and your eyes softened in his gaze. He nodded gently and you sat up, wrapping your arms around him.

“No, baby. I was just trying to give you the space I thought you wanted. This is why you need to tell me how you’re feeling so things like this don’t get mixed up,” you whispered in his ear. He pulled away from you and nodded his head in agreement.

“Let’s go upstairs, yeah?” He asked and you smiled before grabbing the pillow and blanket and following him up the stairs.

And they say love can hurt but seein’ her smile

Will get you every time, yeah, every time

Colby watched you from across the room. He stood in the kitchen and you sat at the table a bit away. He was deep in other thoughts that seemed to get him down, but he saw you bust out into a fit of laughter at something Aryia said. You and Tara both found his words to be quite hilarious and could not get your giggles to cease. The sound of it was like music to his ears and made the corners of his lips turn up slightly before the thoughts in his own head brought him down again.

A little while later, you hopped off the chair and waltzed into the kitchen to get another slice of pizza for both you and Jake. You reached for a plate and went to the pizza box before noticing that Colby was staring at you.

“Like what you see?” you giggled as you met his eye. He smiled a little, but it was one of the smallest smiles you had ever seen from him. You knew something was wrong. After pulling two slices of pepperoni pizza out and sliding them onto your plate, you went over to him and looked him right in the eye, searching as if you would find an answer in his baby blues that he was trying to tell you.

“You okay? What’s wrong? Why are you in here alone?” You spewed the string of questions and he shook his head.

“I’m fine. I’m just… chilling,” he muttered, but you didn’t buy it. You slipped your hand in his and tugged at it, pulling him to the table.

“Come on,” you smiled up at him and he thought his knees would buckle underneath at the beautiful sight.

“I made Sam get stuffed crust pizza just for you, so you better grab a slice and come hang out with your friends and girlfriend. You feel better, I promise.” He sighed before nodding and doing what he was told.

“Only because I love you,” He whispered under his breath, causing you to turn around and quirk an eyebrow.

“What was that?” He shook his head as he laughed.

“Nothing princess.”

Because you love her

[quillingyousoftly]

The Messiest Maid

Written for Rumrollins Week, day 5: Birthday/Smut

Warnings: crossdressing, explicit smut, roughness, rimming. If you’re worried about stumbling into something you don’t wanna read, don’t hesitate to hmu and ask if it features in the fic.

Brock hears Jack’s footsteps stop abruptly in the doorway; he feels his hot gaze on his backside as he’s bending over the table to make sure not a speck of dust remains on the polished wooden surface. 

“What,” Jack begins, voice low, the hitch in his breath apparent, “are you doing?”

Without as much as looking at him over his shoulder, Brock replies in his best French accent, “Cleaning before your birthday party.” He grins and adds, “Sir.”

Brock doesn’t stop wiping the table until he’s sure its surface is spotless. Then, he straightens up and walks over to the shelves stacked with alcohol bottles with his back still turned.

“There’s a birthday party?” Jack asks.

“Didn’t sir invite his friends over to celebrate with him?” Brock bites down on his lip to suppress a smirk, as he knows Jack didn’t. Jack isn’t a big fan of his birthday, it reminds him of the passing time. But it doesn’t mean Brock can’t gift him a show. 

And hopefully, something more than a show.

He forgets about his fantasies for a moment as he stands up on his tiptoes to reach the top shelf. As he dusts off the surface, he spies a spiderweb in the corner of the ceiling. With a frown, he bends over for the feather duster left on the floor by his feet, his tight lacy panties riding up his backside, and the short black skirt of his outfit completely uncovering it. He swiftly catches the handle of the duster and straightens up again, then jumps to reach the ceiling.

Then jumps again.

He pouts in frustration at not being able to reach the offending spiderweb, Jack watching him momentarily forgotten; that is, until he feels his hot, firm body pressing against his back. One strong arm sneaks around his waist, and without warning, he’s hoisted up. Brock’s face warms, and his spine tingles at that effortless display of strength, but he dutifully catches the spiderweb on the duster, now easily reaching it.

“Thank you, sir,” he says coquettishly, his voice a little higher to mimic that of a young woman. 

“You’re welcome.” Jack’s voice is a vibrating, smoky timbre against his ear. Brock holds his breath in anticipation—

But then he’s gently lowered onto the floor, and to his disappointment, Jack moves away. Already missing the heat of his body, Brock looks around for something else to clean in a sexy way. Jack obviously isn’t yet done with the show.

He spies the oven and nods to himself. He grabs a cream cleaner and a wiping cloth and kneels down in front of the oven, wincing when his old-man knees crack. He opens the oven and, armed with the cloth, he ducks inside.

A minute passes, and Brock’s show’s swiftly turning into actual cleaning. Jack hasn’t yet come closer or touched him no matter how high in the air Brock pushes his ass, or how wide he spreads his legs. He sighs heavily and peeks out of the oven to check what Jack’s even doing.

His breath catches at the sight of him; red face, eyes darkened with desire, and an obvious tent in his jeans. Brock smiles smugly; for a moment, he was worried the costume didn’t do it for him anymore.

“Is sir alright?” he asks.

“Are you?” Jack says hoarsely. “I think you need a break. All that hard work you put in for me...”

He extends his hand, and Brock gratefully takes it to pull himself up. Another minute on that floor, and his knees would’ve stopped their fun short before it even started.

“Sir is always right. I think I need to lie down for a minute…” Brock says with a wink.

He yelps in surprise when Jack scoops him up into a bridal carry, his arms coming tight around his shoulders on instinct. Jack likes to do it without warning.

“Let me show you to the bedroom,” he says, carrying Brock out of the kitchen.

Brock giggles. Or, well, attempts to. “Silly sir! I clean your bedroom every day, I know where it is!”

“Do you now?” Jack holds his gaze, and there’s affection mixing in with desire. It makes Brock’s face warm all the same. “Then you must have noticed how lonely I am.”

“Well—” Brock hisses at the sudden explosion of pain in his foot when turning a corner. “I know I’m dreamy, but would you look where you’re going?” he asks, breaking character.

“I’m sorry.” Jack kisses him on the cheek, which is an acceptable remedy.

He enters the bedroom and lays Brock down on the bed, placing himself between his legs. Brock smirks and bends his knees up to uncover his own awakening cock that is miraculously still stuffed inside the tight panties. Jack’s hungry eyes peer under the skirt and slowly travel up the white little apron around Brock’s waist and the black corset that’s making it a little hard to breathe, to finally reach the white headpiece that’s threatening to fall off. 

“I can’t believe you dusted off this old thing for me,” he murmurs, his hands running up the trashy fishnet stockings. 

“It’s not the only old thing I intend to dust off today,” Brock replies, barely suppressing a delighted smirk when Jack glares at him.

“Says you,” he shots back.

“You’ll be my age soon,” Brock croons.

“Maybe, but then you’ll be even older. Too old to get it up, I bet.”

Brock rolls his eyes; despite his thirty-five years, Jack could act like a child when he wanted. “Well, are you waiting for that to happen? ‘Cause your gift won’t unwrap itself.”

“Is that so?”

Before Brock can respond, Jack runs his hands up his inner thighs, and Brock holds his breath. His fingers ghost over his panties, but avoid his cock and grip his hips instead. Then, Jack’s suddenly beside him, and he’s being flipped over onto his stomach. Brock grunts when the air escapes his lungs. When he tries to look over his shoulder, Jack shoves his face into the mattress. Brock’s blood rushes in his ears like it does each time Jack is forceful with him, which isn’t as often as Brock’d like. 

“What do I do with you?” Jack asks, but with Brock’s mouth pressed against the sheets, he doesn’t try to answer. It sounds like Jack’s just thinking out loud, anyway. “I wanna do too many things at once. Wanna reward you. Wanna ruin you.”

To Brock it sounds like one and the same. It’s pathetic how close to ruin he is already with Jack pawing at his hips, pulling them up. Brock spreads his legs of his own accord, and Jack slips between them again, squeezing Brock’s meaty buttocks. He uncovers one, more silky fabric gathering in Brock’s ass crack to his discomfort, and sucks in a bruise. Brock moans and pushes his legs even wider apart, the tip of his throbbing cock escaping from the panties.

Jack sucks in another bruise just beside the first one, then sinks his teeth in the tender flesh, making Brock howl. Hot pain shoots from his ass to his dick, and he suddenly feels a lot wetter.

Jack licks over the indents his teeth left, slightly soothing the pain, but the heat in Brock’s ass is still present, almost overshadowing the one in his dick. Jack’s mouth moves to where his panties are stuck in his ass crack, then down over his balls and the base of his cock. Brock lets out another pathetic sound when he feels Jack’s hot, damp breath and remembers the silky inside of his mouth. He pushes his ass harder against Jack’s face and is punished for it; Jack’s blunt nails dig into the ruined flesh of Brock’s cheek, and he corrects his position. Brock bites on his lip to keep himself from moaning.

Jack moves his face away and plays with Brock’s throbbing cheek for a bit longer, then pulls his panties down. Brock sighs in relief when his cock springs free; it’s started aching already. Jack chuckles darkly.

“So you took a day off to shave your balls?” 

“And my ass and legs,” Brock points out, turning his head to the side. The air feels cool on his face, and he takes a deep breath. “Took me hours.”

“I believe you.”

Brock groans when Jack parts his cheeks and licks over his hole. He promptly bites his lip, but it’s getting harder to breathe with Jack’s tongue prodding him, opening him, and soon his mouth is wide open, panting onto the mattress. He gasps and grips the sheets when Jack sucks on his rim, his thighs trembling as he struggles to be still.

Jack teases him with his tongue, licking inside but never as deep as Brock wants him to, and just when he thinks he can’t take it anymore, Jack moves away. He flips him over onto his back again and looks into his hot and sweaty face with his eyes dark and shining and his parted lips red from biting on them. Brock feels the headpiece come loose around his head, and Jack fixes it in place, licking his lips. He himself looks disheveled, his jaw tight, his eyes devouring Brock.

“You’re fucking breathtaking like this,” he murmurs. 

He opens his fly with impatient hands, and a strong smell of his arousal hits Brock’s nose as Jack pulls his jeans down with his boxers. Brock barely has time to open his mouth wider before Jack stuffs his cock inside, impatient, needy. The tip’s already creamy and salty, and Brock licks the taste away. He closes his eyes as Jack straddles his chest, grabs his hair, and thrusts. It’s shallow at first, just as much as Brock can take, but then Jack’s rhythm becomes more frantic. He jabs the back of Brock’s throat, making him gag, then thrusts even deeper. Brock’s eyes snap open as he chokes and sputters. Jack’s eyes bore into him, almost entirely black from how dilated his pupils are, his face red and shining with sweat, his lips pursed tightly so only grunts escape him. Keeping Brock’s head in place, he pulls his dick out, red and glistening, but thrusts it back into Brock’s throat before he takes a good breath. Brock chokes again, then again, his arms flailing, his toes curling. This is new. Jack can be forceful when he wants to be, but he’s never done that before.

Jack’s dick finally retracts again, and Brock takes a big gulp of air.

“Wow,” he rasps, smiling up at Jack. Jack returns the smile, rubbing Brock’s slippery lips with his thumb.

“I figured out what I wanna do to you,” he says, his voice oddly soft, considering what he’s just done. 

“Yeah?”

Jack nods. “I’m feeling mean today.” Brock rolls his eyes—no shit. “You spent so much time scrubbing that table clean. It’d be a shame if it got stained again.”

Brock thinks it over, his forgotten cock twitching in interest. Curiously enough, while they did fuck in the kitchen before, they haven’t done that on the table. Brock doesn’t mind, though hopefully he can trick Jack into cleaning it after. He nods, and Jack gets off him, then pulls him up and drags him by his arm back into the kitchen. He pushes him towards the table, and Brock leans against it and sighs, trying to pull himself together. Racking the small skirt up and bending over the table, raising his hips high so he doesn’t crush his dick, he wishes he could take the tight outfit off, but Jack clearly intends to fuck him in it. He wants to fuck his French maid, and well, that was exactly the plan, wasn’t it?

He peers at Jack over his shoulder, and at least he’s also still dressed, the jeans piled around his knees, his leaking cock leaving wet stains on his black t-shirt. He rakes his gaze up and down Brock’s form, and once he’s done staring, he moves to stand behind him. He parts Brock’s cheeks and spits onto his hole. Brock gasps in surprise when he feels the blunt head of Jack’s cock breach him. Jack’s normally a gentle lover; Brock’s never taken him without preparation and only spit to ease the way.

“Okay?” Jack asks before Brock has a chance to panic.

Brock breathes out slowly, reminding himself he’s with his loving boyfriend who’d never ever hurt him, not in the way Brock wouldn’t like.

“Yeah,” he says, his breath still a little heavy. “I can take it.”

Jack’s slow when he enters him, giving Brock more time than he needs to handle the stretch. Once Jack finally bottoms out, Brock’s trembling and sweating on the table, gripping the edges hard. He feels Jack’s weight on his back, his breath on his neck.

“How are you doing there?” he asks.

“Fuck me,” Brock grits out.

He hears Jack smile. “Who would’ve thought maids were so naughty?”

Brock rolls his eyes, but he lets Jack have this. He knows how much Jack loves the outfit, how it works on him, but he himself isn’t a big fan of squeezing himself into it, so it’s only for special occasions. It’s only the fifth time Brock has it on, and it always makes Jack delighted. Brock finds it secretly amusing, but making Jack horny for him is always fun, even if it involves wearing women’s clothing.

Even if he wanted to say something, his breath escaping him once Jack thrusts hard into him makes it impossible. Brock yelps and grips the table harder.

“Still okay?” Jack asks, out of breath himself.

“Yeah, yeah, keep going.”

Jack’s hard thrusts pick up speed, and before he knows it, Brock’s body’s bouncing over the table, his sweaty hands sliding on the edges, his aching cock rubbing against the surface. Jack steadily ramming into his prostate forces moans out his throat, and he knows he’s about to cum without a hand on his dick.

Before that can happen though, Jack pulls out. Brock hears him jerk off, and a moment later warm strings of cum land on his burning ass. He grits his teeth, his hips still going, rubbing himself off on the table. His balls feel so tight, but before he can cum all over the polished surface, he’s being pulled up onto his feet.

“J-Jack—” he whimpers, thrusting against the air. The skirt rolls down his hips, and the delicate fabric brushing his throbbing erection makes him shake all over.

Jack turns him around and presses his bare thigh against Brock’s cock. “On me,” he commands, and Brock rubs himself off on his thigh until he paints it white, then slumps into his arms. Jack stumbles back, but regains balance, and holds him tight.

“You’re the messiest maid I’ve ever met.”

Breathing hard against Jack’s neck, his throat sore and dry, Brock retorts, “I’m the only maid you’ve met.”

Jack rubs his palm up and down Brock’s back and presses his lips to his temple. “Let’s get back to bed.”

“Water,” Brock reminds him.

Jack nods. “Right, I’ll get it. You go to bed.”

He releases him, and Brock waddles to the bedroom on weak legs. He flops onto the bed and gladly takes off his French maid getup.

Jack joins him, carrying not water but champagne. It’s his birthday, after all.

[thepaperpanda]

Forever Hungry || Eddie Brock x Reader

Summary: Venom interrupted something really important, causing a commotion.

Warnings: A bit of smut

Words: 1879

Author: Cass & Rouge

Day was busy and you had a lot of work at your agency. You kept on going only because you knew at evening you were about to meet with your boyfriend, Eddie. However, he was not only your boyfriend. He was first and foremost your boss. Working at press agency wasn't too easy but you managed and you had a great results.

"No, I don't have time for a snack break now, V." Eddie muttered reading some random paper. "Besides, I am not really hungry like now and I AM busy." He said.

"I don't care, we're hungry and we want that nice chocolate bar from machine like yesterday. If you won't provide it, we'll eat your kidney or liver," symbiote said forming itselt next to Eddie.

Its sight fell on the large window in Eddie's office when you were passing it by.

"She's nice," Venom added.

"First of all! Hide yourself. Second, you can't demage me because where you will find as great host as me. And the last thing…," Eddie looked at the window to catch a small glimpse of you. "Yes... Yes she is," he sighed. "A bit," Eddie added suddenly, shrugging.

Venom formed a hand and blew a hit into back og man's head.

"You're really a loser, Eddie, trust us, we'd love to eat ya, so we'd be able to seek for another host, maybe this time we'd be lucky enough to not get onto someone...," symbiote looked for a proper words, his huge eyes looked right in Eddie's. "Some macho, not a piece of turd."

Symbiote hid into Eddie's body again but he spoke into his mind.

"Don't be a dumbshit, we good know what you think of her. We can help you with getting to her panties, loser."

"I wanna remind you that I already did that! By myslef," Eddie growled. "I can't believe that some…," he looked for a right word. "Cosmic parasite is calling me names."

~~~~~~

After another hour of working Eddie let out a loud sigh.

"Okay... Let's go to machine and get something to eat. Are you happy, V?," Eddie asked, getting up from his seat.

"No. Now we'll stick that bar up your ass," symbiote snorted in man's thoughts.

When Brock got on the corridor and to the snack machine, you happened to fall on him while walking with pile of documents you were needing at one of your cases.

"Oh, shit! Sorry, Eddie! I didn't see you! What a mess!," you mumbled crouching and starting to gather files.

"Move your stupid ass, turd," Venom said to Eddie.

"Shut up you parasite," Eddie muttered quietly and his attention immediately went to you. "Don't worry, Y/N. Let me help you."

Eddie started to help you pick up the files.

"So... Why you have that much stuff on you? I don't recall giving you that much work," he said with a worried and confiused tone, looking trough papers and files.

You tilted head with carefree smile on your lips.

"I think I found a nice case, apparently some people stated they've seen an alien. Reports come from all the city, different places. And, well, they even started to call this thing a hero, it chases some criminals, y'know?," you explained and frowned. "Hey, Ed, you look pale, everything's alright?"

"C'mon, cowboy, say something or we'll eat her head," Venom grunted.

Eddie complitly ignored Venom's word.

"An alien? This isn't a New York, sweetheart," he  gave you a fake laugh and pointed on one of the papers, he read it at loud. "'I saw a big black thing chasing a car thief' - Really? This sounds more like some kind of urban legend," Eddie said trying his best to pull your attention away from Venom subject.

"Maybe, who knows. I think I'll investigate a bit. Maybe lurk around my district and try to catch something?," you said more to yourself. "Just imagine those headlines: ALIEN IN SAN FRANCISCO or ALIEN FOR THE RESCUE. We'd sell more than our standard print-run!," you seemed to be very excited. "But enough about work," you said putting files onto nearest desk to wrap arms around Eddie.

Eddie rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around you.

"Yes, enough about work. I am done with work for today. Wanna come to my place, order some food and watch a movie?"

"Sounds like a plan, pal," you said happily. "Just give me 15 minutes, I'll finish my work and clean my desk, we can meet on the parking lot," you proposed.

"Sounds like a plan," he repeat happily after you nodding, then he ran to his office to grab his leather jacket and two helmets. He quickly went to the parking lot.

"You see, V? I don't need your help," Eddie said being proud of himself. "Kiss my ass, parasite. I will fuck her so hard tonight that she will scream my name," he said zipping up his jacket, looking around.

Venom formed his head in front of Eddie's face and looked at man with pity.

"With that small piece of sausage in your pants? For sure, Eddie. Live in a dream."

"At last I have a dick," Eddie commented and smiled as he saw you. "Heeey there, gorgeous! Ready for a ride?," he asked and pat his motorcycle.

"With such a bad boy like you, Eddie? Always!," you ran to him and eagerly put the helmet on.

"Well than, hop on, girl," Eddie said and gave you ass a smack.

Ride with Eddy was fast and prabobly dangerous but he got both of you home saftly.

~~~~~~

The evening went nice and slow.

Eddie ordered your favourite meal and you two watched a movie together.

"You aren't asleep, sweetheart?," Eddie muttered kissing side of your head. "The movie is over."

As you were leaning over his chest, you smiled lazily.

"It's so comfy here that I don't want to get back home, babe," you told him.

"C'mon, you turd, get her to bedroom, we want to see her boobs," Venom formed itself and peeked into your decoultage from above.

"Shut up and get the fuck up! You distract me," Eddie growled quietly at Venom and laughed at your words. "Well, I have few ideas how we can extend this fun time," he said as his hand moved over your stomach.

You turned head to him in such a moment that Venom already vanished.

"Oh, do you?"

"I think you do, too."

Smiling, Eddie pulled you on his laps.

"You look so tasty today, you know?," he purred before kissing your jawline and moving down to your neck and cleavage.

"Yes, she does and her skin smells do good that we'd like to eat her alive now," Venom said in man's mind.

You rolled head, caressing Eddie's stomach through his shirt, slowly slipping hands under his shirt.

"I love your tattoos though," you said.

Eddie rolled his eyes at Venom's words.

"I know. I love them too," he said proudly and removed his shirt so you can have a better look.

"And I love your body," Eddie said and moved your shirt up your stomach to place few kisses there.

"Stop!," you giggled and messed his bangs. "You're so quick today, Eddie."

"I am always quick. Besides, I missed you so much, Y/N," man looked up at you.

You smiled at him and got off his lap, grabbing his palm.

"I hope you won't fuck me on that old couch, huh?"

Eddie followed you.

"I can fuck you anywhere you want," he said and quicily picked you up to take you to his bedroom.

Eddie kissed your neck walking with you to the bed. He laid you down and looked at you.

"How is this possible? You look even sexier now," man growled and moved down, placing kisses wherever he only could.

You smiled at him and easily get off unnecessary clothes, exposing your body to him.

It wasn't first time when he saw you naked so you were sure of yourself.

"Get her, tiger," Venom joked. "We can help ya with licking."

Eddie smiled and followed you doing the same thing.

"I love you, Y/N," he purred before kissing you, his hand moved down your body to your soaked pussy. Eddie circled your clit before slipping two of his fingers inside you.

You wrapped arm around his neck to pull him into a kiss. After moment you rolled on top of him and straddled him, simply slipping his already erected cock into your pussy.

"Easy, easy, Eddie, or you'll cum and it's gonna be end of play!," Venom laughed.

Eddie let out an annoying sigh and grabbed your hips.

"You don't like to wait, don't you?," he smiled at you and gave you one hard thrust.

"No, I don't, and you as well," you whispered leaning down to kiss his jaw while rocking your hips in steady pace. You rode him for a longer time, letting him play with every part of your naked body.

"Eddie, you dumbshit, we're hungry," said Venom to man.

"Shut you!," Eddie growled and started to move his hips faster, holding your waist tightly. "Fuck, sweetheart. You're gonna make me cum."

You also were nearing your peak when Venom formed itself right next to Eddie, glaring angrily at man's face.

"HUNGRY, YOU DUMBSHIT, WE'RE DYING FROM HUNGER!," then symbiote turned its head toward you. "Hi, Y/N. You look tasty."

You screamed loudly and fell back off Eddie, landing on the floor and hitting your head at night table that stand next to bed.

"Eddie! Don't move!," you yelled pulling on the sheets to cover yourself. "I'll grab the knife, don't move! Fuck!"

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, VENOM!," Eddie yelled and sat up. "For fuck's sake can't you see we were in the middle of something!" He looked at you. "No, no sweetheart... Don't. It's okay, this is the worst moment but… This is Venom. He lives inside me, he is a parasite, and apparently the alien you wanted to look for," Eddie explained as quickly as he could.

You laughed nervously, pulling sheets tighter around you and moving slowly to door of the room. "Parasite... I told you to not eat that kebab last time," you said.

"Kebab parasite? You're out of mind, woman? We're Venom, not a fucking parasite, dumbshit, don't call us that next to that lady, she'll think bad things of us!," Venom said to Eddie.

"It talks... Eddie, it talks... I go... I know. I'll call a vet. Maybe it's kind of... I...," and it was when you fainted, right in a threshold.

Eddie looked at you and than at Venom.

"Thank you so fucking much, V! You ruined my orgasm and you killed the only woman that want me! And yes, you are a parasite! You threaten to eat my insides every day," Eddie growled as he got up to quickly put some pants on. He walked to you. "Y/N... Sweetheart. Come on. Wake up," Eddie said patting your cheek.

You opened eyes slowly only to see Venom's head right next to Eddie's.

"Oh God," you whispered and fainted again.

Venom sighed.

"We fuck your orgasm, Eddie. Now, move your ass to the fridge. We bet there still is that piece of fried chicken from last dinner."

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[artificialqueens]

just let me adore you (branjie) - holtzmanns

(read on ao3) | (tumblr: plastiquetiaras) | word count: 4136

AN: Haven’t written a boy fic like this one in a while, too caught up in all the lesbian aus. Thank you writ and barbie for helping me with this and making me laugh my head off while writing it. Hope you enjoy it, and let me know what you think if you want to! Title from ‘Adore You’ by Harry Styles. Thank you writ for betaing <3

Brock’s new LA apartment, despite being half the size of his Nashville place, feels bigger. Emptier.

Maybe it’s all the boxes he hasn’t gotten around to unpacking. Maybe it’s the way his cats are still nestled in their kennels despite the opened doors, too afraid to leave the fleece blankets and explore their new home. Or maybe it’s the fact that even though he’s spent a lot of time in LA, he’s always had somewhere else to go back to. Somewhere else that’s considered ‘home’.

Except now, LA is his home. Or it will be, eventually, once he gets used to it.

The move makes sense, career wise, because being anchored to Nashville when he’s outgrown it isn’t logical anymore. It’s a city of too many bachelorette parties at his home bar and way too much country songs playing on the radio, and the subtle southern twang in everyone’s voice that he’s been afraid of accidentally adopting himself, these last few years.

LA is where his booking manager is based out of. LA is where he can make stronger connections that’ll help catapult his career in the direction that it deserves to be in. LA is warm - as warm as Nashville, yes, but now he’ll have regular access to the beach, a chance to let his curls get wilder than usual in the ocean air, and to let his skin get a sunkissed glow, provided that he won’t burn to a crisp first.

Brock doesn’t have any connections left in Nashville anymore, either. Most of his friends have moved on to bigger things, left the city that had kept them in touch in the past. His family isn’t in Nashville, and neither is his work. But LA has many fellow queens and some friends, too, and even some distant cousins and-

Jose.

Brock hasn’t told Jose about the move. They haven’t really been talking much, and it makes sense that they’re growing apart, no longer tied down by NDAs and keeping up a storyline or by having to share a tour bus. It’s given them space to breathe, yes, but it also feels strange, no matter how freeing it is.

Brock doesn’t get a morning text when he wakes up anymore, texts that used to be filled with so many nonsensical emojis that he would have no idea where Jose even found them. But then again, Brock doesn’t send any himself, either. He and Jose don’t have their late night phone calls or facetimes that they used to when they’d miss each other just a little bit too much, and it’s not out of the ordinary, the fact that they’ve drifted. Because it’s been awhile, and the rubber band that had tied them together has snapped. They’re free floating, and apparently the paths drawn by their newfound ability to move aren’t meant to cross with one another.

Why would they? When they both travel, they both are free to involve themselves with other people, and they used to be based in different cities. Except that they’re not anymore.

They have the same home base now, because Jose lives in LA too.

Brock thinks back to a year and a half ago, when they were sprawled on Jose’s couch in his apartment and Jose had been poking his shoulder, trying to convince him to move to LA. Saying that it would be a good career move, and why was he still in Nashville, anyway?

Back then, things had been so fresh and new. They’d finished filming Drag Race, and their season wouldn’t air until the next year. Being able to wrap his arms around Jose, hold him close without any cameramen trying to capture the moment had been thrilling, almost freeing, even. But it had felt too soon. Too soon to leave Nashville because it still had been his home.

But now? It’s not Brock’s home anymore. Not when being able to perform, to do what he loves to do and dance every night gives him that same feeling of comfort, of security, that his bed in Nashville used to provide. The fact that he’s in control, the fact that he doesn’t have to be tied down to a certain place, but rather just needs that feeling of satisfaction in his heart to feel like he’s complete.

Brock wonders what the Jose from a year and a half ago would think. He wonders what Jose will think now.

He debates on whether he should tell Jose. Let him know. Do exes do that? Let each other know that they’ll be in the neighbourhood for the foreseeable future? A warning of sorts, or maybe a homecoming?

Brock’s not sure which one it’ll be, which one he even wants it to be.

The clock on his oven is reading 11:00 pm and he’s tired, way too tired to unpack much more than some of the clothes and toiletries and silverware and plates he’d gotten to taking out earlier, stuff he’ll need sooner than later. Everything else can wait for the morning daybreak, when the flashing lights of the cars outside are replaced with the LA sun that burns just a little too bright for his night loving eyes.

It would be too late to bother Jose, anyway, if they were in any other profession. Except all of their work is done in the evenings and nights, when the lighting is just a little bit more forgiving on their harsh makeup and the loud beats of the music are socially acceptable. Still, texting Jose to say that he’s in town feels a little bit strange, a little bit presumptuous.

He’s going to pull a Gatsby instead. Hope that Jose gets the message.

Instagram story posted by @bhytes. A panning shot of an empty apartment, stacked high with boxes against the walls and two kennels with open doors, one which has a grey tail sticking out of it. Location: Los Angeles.

It doesn’t take long until Brock’s phone lights up with an Instagram direct message notification. He’d fiddled with his settings to have most notifications turned off, his account too bustling to handle the onslaught of fan comments and messages and likes. Most of them, that is, except for his close friends, his family members, and Jose.

He’d never gotten around to turning Jose’s notifications off after they’d broken up, not when he dives for his phone the same way that he used to, back then.

vanessavanjie: LA huh

vanessavanjie: ur ass finally listened to me

vanessavanjie: all those boxes, ur ass just get here or what

bhytes: something like that

bhytes: drove over yesterday with everything, finally free of the u-haul

vanessavanjie: damn i thought it was only lesbians who u-hauled lol

bhytes: you around LA these days?

vanessavanjie: i see u watching my stories bitch u already know

bhytes: fair

vanessavanjie: u tired of unpacking everything or what

bhytes: a little, honestly

vanessavanjie: come out

vanessavanjie: can’t be a hermit already before ur even properly moved in

Brock doesn’t know why he says yes. Maybe, just maybe, in the back of his mind he does, because the lack of inhibitions from some alcohol and loud music creates the perfect setting in which to see Jose in again, after months and months of only seeing his face behind an Instagram profile. A club setting means no need for the awkward small talk, no conversations about the weather that always happen with people that feel too far away, unreachable, when they used to be close enough to touch.

Jose’s not hard to find. Not by the way he’s yelling up a storm in the corner of the club with a drink in each hand, surrounded by fellow queens and dancers and spinning in place as if no one’s watching him. And it’s true, no one really is, too busy wrapped up in their own conversations and dance moves.

Except for Brock, because Jose’s like a magnet, one that grabs his sight from far away and refuses to let him go and be free from his pull. Brock can’t tell if his heart is beating faster and faster because of the deep bass of the music, or because of Jose’s smile that lights up his whole face, one that Brock used to see all the time. He fiddles with his baseball cap as he walks over, because his curls had been too hopeless to be tamed by any amount of pomade.

Not that Jose really cares. He never did, not when Brock used to wear the same sweater for days in a row because he didn’t feel like rifling through his closet, not when Brock couldn’t tell apart Jose’s various outfits even if he tried. Brock’s energy for styling himself is just enough to get himself looking decent in drag. Out of drag? It doesn’t matter much to him.

Doesn’t matter, until Jose spots him and drops his drinks into the hands of those beside him, walking over with a glint in his eyes and a onceover that’s enough to make Brock pull in a breath.

It’s irrelevant that they’re not together, that they’re better off not as a unit. Because there’s something about Jose that’s magnetic and always manages to pull Brock in, makes him want to sidle up to him, close enough that the familiar scent of Jose’s cologne washes over him from head to toe and makes him close his eyes.

“Sleeping already? You on LA time now.” Jose brushes his fingers along Brock’s wrist and it feels like an electric current, one that travels straight to his heart.

“Moving is tiring.” Brock’s a bit distracted as he answers because Jose’s features are still so stunning, so precisely cut, balanced with the delicate flutter of his eyelashes, the soft curve of his mouth.

Jose looks the same as he always does, still as if it’s two in the afternoon and he’s fresh after a nap, rather than taking on the weariness that adorns the features of their colleagues from all of the travelling that comes with the job.

“Ain’t thought about asking me for help? We in the same neighbourhood now.” Jose raises one perfect eyebrow and Brock has to resist the urge to reach out, smooth it over, the way that he always used to.

“Didn’t think your small frame would be able to handle the giant boxes.” Brock grins and the light dig is worth it, because Jose lets out a little yell, swats at his arm, the ice shattering as it always does if they spend more than thirty seconds with each other.

“Forgot what a shady ass bitch you were.” But Jose’s smiling, the kind that reaches his eyes, and Brock knows that he’s not really mad.

Brock catches at Jose’s hand before he lets it drop, turning it over. “Damn. So the tattoo is real, huh?”

He’d had his doubts, because the ink had looked extensive. But Jose’s impulsive, guided by his heart and rash decisions and so it makes sense. The lines are deep within Jose’s skin, pretty patterns along the top of his hand and his wrist and Brock would be mesmerized by it, he would, were it not for the flashing lights of the club making it difficult to clearly see.

“You think I’d play with some Sharpie just for fun?” Jose lets out a scoff as he wiggles his fingers, letting Brooke get a view from all angles.

“I distinctly remember the time on the season eleven tour when you drew a mustache on Silky while she was sleeping, so yes. You’d play with some Sharpie.”

The memory makes Brock grin, remembering the cramped tour bus and the things that the queens would get up to in order to pass the time. It feels like a lifetime ago, one that’s been marred by tours that followed and geographical distance and other flings in between.

“Don’t know if you’d be able to scribble so nicely, though.” Brock flips Jose’s hand over again and Jose pulls it back with a huff, a little pout on his lips.

“I’m a modern day Mother Teresa and invite you out and this is how you treat me. Hateful, truly hateful.” Jose crosses his arms, taps one of his feet and Brock snorts, because it feels like old times. How they always used to act.

“Want me to kiss it better?”

Also how they used to act.

Maybe it’s a good thing that the dance floor is so crowded, that the WeHo gays have come out in full force on a Sunday night. It lets Brock pull Jose flush against him, a hand on the small of his back, without worrying about cameras or anyone else’s opinions. Because right now, the way Jose is looking up at him is all that matters.

Rihanna herself, Jose’s patron saint of music is blaring over the speakers and maybe that’s why Jose’s keening into his touch, losing himself in the music. The heat is radiating off of Jose’s body like a fire, and Brock’s not scared of getting burned anymore because he wants it, nights like this. Because he’s here in LA, and Jose’s here in LA, and there’s no rule that says that it’s bad to hook up with an ex after months and months and months, even though his sober mind likes to pretend that there should be.

Jose’s lips form the familiar pout that Brock knows so well, knows how to answer to. It’s as easy as breathing, kissing Jose. So familiar and right and yet somehow it still makes Brock’s blood pump just a little bit faster, makes his heart skip a beat when Jose whines into his mouth.

Brock ruts his hips forward slightly into Jose as he nips at his lower lip and it makes Jose gasp, open his mouth more as he deepens the kiss. Sure, they’re doing things on the dance floor that would make any good Christian woman weep but Brock doesn’t care, not when Jose’s in his grasp and so pliant and so willing to be there, wanting more and more.

Sue him, he’s missed this. Missed the way he can undo Jose so easily, pulling him apart with a strong touch and lips upon his skin. Not discounting how Brock can feel himself unravelling too, his brain only focusing on Jose and his cologne and his hands tugging on Brock’s belt loops and the way his stubble is gently scratching at his skin.

It’s inevitable, really, when Brock palms at Jose’s crotch, feeling the way he’s already halfway hard in the damn club, not unlike himself. Brock nips at Jose’s jaw before whispering right by his ear, close enough to be heard over the music.

“I’d invite you to mine but my mattress is sitting on the floor. No sheets, either.” Moving is hard, after all. Making a bed takes effort.

“Now ain’t you living like a prince? Mine, then. Reacquaint yourself with that headboard you chose.”

Brock tugs on Jose’s arm in lieu of an answer, already typing in Jose’s address for a Lyft because he still has it memorized, of course he does.

“When did you get that new mirror?”

“That really what you focusing on right now?” Jose tugs Brock’s head back down towards him, his kiss biting, taking, and Brock gives into it, lets himself get reacquainted with Jose’s breathing, his smooth skin along his hipbones when Brock pushes the edges of his shirt up.

“You redecorated, that’s all.” Brock lets Jose push him up against the wall beside the entrance closet, because he gets the feeling that Jose needs this just as much. This bit of release that no one else can even come close to providing, an itch that only the two of them can scratch for each other. The quickies in bathrooms and the rare nights in hotel rooms on tour that were so cathartic, so draining in the best way.

Brock needs it again now; they both do.

He pulls Jose close with fingers in his belt loops, catching the little hitch in Jose’s breath that matches the way his pupils are blown, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“You missed me, huh?” Brock bends down, kissing along Jose’s neck and oh, it’s already starting to bloom in maroons from Brock’s lips at the club. He knows Jose’s going to be pissed later, but he doesn’t care, not really, not when it’s so satisfying to see them there.

“Don’t get cute.” It comes out in a groan, an arch of Jose’s back, a flutter of his eyelids.

But then Jose regains his breathing as his eyes clear, and he’s pushing on Brock’s shoulders until he’s against the wall, like he has an agenda, like he wants to see it through. Jose’s on his tiptoes in his sneakers but Brock’s not going to make it any easier for him by bending down, because he likes it, seeing how bad Jose wants it, needs it, and is willing to make it happen. Except that he nearly does when Jose’s unbuttoning his pants and tugging on his zipper, dropping onto his knees, and it’s a miracle that Brock is able to keep himself up when he’s missed this sight more than he wants to admit.

Jose wastes no time in wrapping his hand around the base of Brock’s dick, swirling his tongue around the tip when a bead of precum leaks out and Brock has to squeeze his eyes shut, pull in a sharp breath because Jose’s too good at it, so close to making him come undone before they’ve even done anything. When he opens his eyes Jose’s looking up at him, keeping eye contact as he twists his hand, coordinating it with the movements of his mouth and Brock has to reach down, tug on Jose’s elbow roughly to pull him back up because he doesn’t want to come so fast, not like this.

Jose’s lips are swollen and his eyes wild and he looks satisfied already, and Brock kisses him partly to wipe that expression off of his face, and partly because he loves the low groan that leaves the back of Jose’s throat when he does.

Jose’s bedroom is the same when he tugs Brock down onto the mattress. There’s an unfamiliar scent of cologne coming from the pillow on what used to be Brock’s side, once upon a time. But Brock ignores it, pushes it away, preferring to focus his attention on Jose and on tugging his shirt off before pulling off his own so that they’re finally, finally pressed up against each other. Jose’s all taut underneath him, his skin hot like coals and it burns Brock in the best way, the heat warming his chest in a way that nothing else can.

“Hurry up.” Jose’s voice is gruff, his head lifting from his pillow to try and capture Brock’s lips but Brock pulls back, kissing down Jose’s chest and ribs and right above his hip bone. The broken noise that Jose lets out as Brock tugs on his shorts and underwear is worth it, a sound that Brock wants to be able to hear over and over again.

“Still kept in here?” Brock opens the first drawer on Jose’s bedside table and the lube and condoms are still there, like Brock remembers.

It’s a weird sense of deja vu - they’ve fucked all over the world, on tour and in between gigs but somehow being back in Jose’s apartment brings a feeling of familiarity, from when they were just beginning, when everything was still fresh and new. Kissing along Jose’s skin, the salty tang of sweat a taste that he remembers from their very first time, one that hasn’t changed.

Brock holds the condom packet up in question, and Jose shoots him a look. “What, you want me to do it for you, or something?”

“So impatient.”

“Shut up.” But Jose’s words are cut off in a groan when Brock pushes his legs open, teases his lubed up fingers by his entrance while he presses kisses along Jose’s hipbone, the crook of his thigh.

He loves seeing Jose come undone like this, so not in control of himself when he’s arching up from the bed, curses falling from his mouth already as Brock curves his fingers, along his prostate. Brock’s close enough himself, already on the edge because his own dick is leaking and he has to focus on the motions of his own fingers to distract himself, to keep going.

Brock pulls his fingers back when Jose whines, tugs on his arm until he crawls back up and captures his lips again. He lets Jose control the pace of the kiss, lets him deepen it but then hooks an arm under the small of Jose’s back, flips him over so he’s on his stomach, gasping and squirming underneath him.

He pushes Jose’s legs apart again after he rolls on the condom, kisses up Jose’s spine and by his shoulder until he’s right by his ear. “This okay?”

“Why you taking forever, bitch-”

Brock pushes into him suddenly, drawing in a breath because fuck , it doesn’t matter who else he sleeps with, who else he has close like this, because it’s different with Jose. Everything he feels so much stronger with Jose, and it makes his own body feel so much more electrified, so much closer to being bowled over. He tugs on Jose’s hips until he’s off the bed slightly, as close as possible so that he can drive himself deeper, faster. Jose is a mess of moans and swear words that blend into one another as his shaky hands fist in the sheets, his face burying in his own elbow.

“Fuck B, fuck-”

Brock makes up for lost time, the distance that’s been between them over the past few months, burying his face in juncture of Jose’s neck and gripping at his skin hard enough to leave bruises. Jose’s letting out broken noises beneath him that make Brock squeeze his eyes shut, push faster, harder, until the headboard is bumping up against the wall. Brock knows Jose’s close, he just needs a little bit more-

Brock lifts Jose’s hips up a little bit more so he can grab his dick, pump it while twisting his hand just the way Jose likes it, not letting up the motions of his hips. And then Jose’s whines become higher in his throat, until he’s coming all over the sheets and on his own thighs. Brock pulls his hand back, grabs at Jose’s hip again and speeds up until he’s gone too, shaking and trembling and trying to catch his breath, his lungs empty and gasping for air.

He turns Jose over, licks the come off his skin and crawls up until he’s at Jose’s lips, kissing him again and it’s less desperate from both of them now, slower. Calmer. Brock rolls off of Jose, rests on his side, and Jose’s the most beautiful man he’s ever seen, all breathless and fucked out but with eyes that are sparkling, warm.

Brock’s never going to tire of the sight.

“I just washed these sheets this morning, you ho. Gonna have to wash ‘em again now.” Jose’s voice is gravelly, a smile playing on his lips as he trails his fingers mindlessly along the veins of Brock’s forearm.

“I’ll help you in the morning.” The words roll off of Brock’s tongue without effort, as if it’s a given that he’s staying over, that trekking back to his own apartment as if this is a one night stand doesn’t make any sense. As if this is a normal occurrence for the two of them.

And maybe, just maybe, Jose’s on the same wavelength too, because he smiles, drops his head on his arm on the mattress. “You better.”

Brock should be worried, freaking out like he normally does, because this isn’t a random city on tour or an unknown dressing room backstage somewhere. It’s Jose’s room, Jose’s bed, somewhere dizzyingly familiar but Brock’s mind is clear, free of the buzzing thoughts that normally turn his brain into a highway of sorts.

It doesn’t have to mean anything, not yet, nor does it ever have to. Maybe it’ll just lead to their paths intersecting more often, crossing with one another more frequently because now they’ll have the chance to, living in the same city. They’re not tied down, nor do they have to be. But the way Jose’s already starting to drift off curled into Brock’s side, an arm over his waist, doesn’t feel restricting, not like it should. Not like it used to. It feels more like a homecoming, because Brock can already feel roots burrowing down into the LA soil and taking hold, anchoring him here, making it his home.