#it's possible I am actually slightly hungover

[charmwasjess]

send help, I went to a punk show last night an hour away from my house on a school night

[nerdytreeflower]

Sunshine: Prologue

Derek Morgan X Reader

Summary: Bestfriends. Or something close to that anyway. That's what they are, but after one wine-fuelled night's sleep and a whole load of tossing and turning, one side of the friendship becomes strained. Derek Morgan wants to know why. Which is when the perfect opportunity comes from the pipecleaner with eyes and she has no choice but to confront the feelings she believes are one-sided. Confrontation and serial killers seem like a good mix, right? That's what I thought.

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Okay, so here is the prologue of the first fanfic I have ever written so constructive criticism is extremely welcome. And yes, I have written this statement before somewhere but also please keep in mind I am easily hurt so any mean comments will quite possibly reduce me to tears.

Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

It was all Reid's idea. Even if that's not what Hotch believed, the young genius had a way of suggesting ideas in a broad term and leaving it to another member of the team to own the epiphany of the actual idea itself. Whether it be for their egos or his exhaustion from having to be the smart one all the time she hadn't quite figured it out. All she knew was that stupidly innocent smile the doctor had sent her when Hotch suggested that the two agents going undercover to catch the unsub would be Morgan and herself. And that their cover would be a married couple.

She did not doubt that this case could be done just as successfully with any other combination of agents on the team, but one quip made it clear that, in their unit chief's opinion, she and Morgan would accurately fit the victimology. No further objections were made on her end, especially as the first she made was met with a teasing remark from the object of her struggles himself.

"What, you scared to get a little action, Sweetheart?" he had teased, any other day prior she would have met his teasing head-on, even flirting back a little. But today she avoided as much eye contact as she could, looking down at the file that showed the case and where they would be staying as the resort didn't want the reputation of the establishment and they had the backing of some frequent customers that were high up on the BAU's hierarchy. Ergo, the covert observation and investigation.

"I just want to make sure we are the best qualified for this, the choice of agents we use could determine if we catch this guy." Hotch nodded and out of the corner of her eye, she could see the shift in Morgan's expression. The last thing she wanted to do was make him doubt her trust in him, as backup or as a friend.

"This is the decision I've made and I believe it to be the most representative of this unsub's victimology," Hotch explained as if understanding her concern. Spencer was still smiling, looking proud of himself. She couldn't help but think that none of this would have happened if they hadn't invited him on one of their girl's nights out.

"We need more shots! I'm going to get more shots!" Penelope left despite the refusal of the others at the bar table, she put her head in her arms with laughter bubbling up her throat. 

"Hotch is going to kill us if we come in hungover tomorrow," she whined and the others groaned and laughed, all bubbled up by the cocktails prior.

"Can you blame her? I too want to see how well Boy Genius here handles tequila," Emily huffed, nudging Spencer who already looked dazy, empty glasses in front of him.

"Think of it as the initiation," JJ teased and he had the sense to look slightly wary.

"What do I get once I've passed the initiation?"

"Rather cocky, aren't we?"

"Well, I-"

"Relax, Spence, once you've passed the initiation then you get full access. All the things we talk about, all the gossip and secrets we share- you are privy to." His eyes lit up, knowledge was something he always craved, there was little left of factual knowledge he could absorb, but opinions and new events? He knew nothing of them, his curiosity was peaked.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" two tequila shots are placed in front of him and all four girls look at him expectantly. He winced and threw back the first one, face looking like he was chewing on a lemon but it passed after a couple of seconds and the next one went down. They cheered and all leaned into the table, as if ready to start whispering.

"Okay, what's the first piece of gossip we can think of," she asked but immediately regretted it when they all turned to her.

it was now a week later, on their first case since that night, and just over two weeks since she had not been able to look Derek Morgan in the eye because of her stupid subconscious' need to ruin one of the most important relationships in her life. Before, they would flirt playfully, and hang out together constantly, they were, as PG put it, "Practically Besties". 

Now, if she could help it they wouldn't even look each other in the eye, she could tell that it was driving him crazy trying to figure out what happened, what he did. But it wasn't what he did, it was what she did, well more specifically what she dreamed that had changed the entire view of their relationship in her eyes. Not that she could say anything, lest it be ruined further by her selfish desires to make something impossible out of something she already had.

When she zoned back in, everyone was standing, "Wheels up in 50, Morgan, Sunny, does that give you enough time to gather what you need?" Hotch asked and she nodded, packing up her files and rushing out the door as if her tail was on fire. She grabbed her bag and made her way to the elevator, ignoring the call to hold the door, and immediately left the building, getting in her car and driving home to pack her bags for the possible two-week-long case that would require her acting head-over-heels in love with one of her best friends. She just wished that acting was all it was.

Derek Morgan was not known for his humility. His looks, his ability to sweet-talk the clothes right off a woman's body, and his increasing ability to be a thorn in the side of the financial department of the BAU? Maybe. ('The doors, Derek. The doors' she had once explained to him when one of the suit-wearing lower floor employees was glaring at him from the coffee machine) But not his humility.

This was a mistake of quick judgement, anyone who had known him for as long as the team had would tell you, that in fact, Derek Morgan was kind-hearted and surprisingly modest when it came to many areas of his life. 

One of those areas just happened to be her.

He was a profiler; he got paid to practically translate the minds of people others in the criminal justice system could barely dream of empathising with. In layman's terms, he got paid to read people. Consequently, he was also great at fending off similar intuitions from his coworkers that housed the same abilities- good at hiding things from most people.

However, the new and unforeseen pivot of the once strong and budding connection he had with his teammate had thrown him off completely, to a point where he had trouble pulling the wool over even the most oblivious member's eyes. One day they were trading flirtatious and witty remarks over the barrier between their desks and the next she couldn't even make eye contact, she wouldn't as shown by her immediate dismissal of any attempt to communicate within the past week. He was starting to feel the long-term effects of the lack of attention on her part like a withdrawal. 

Like a flower that once preened in a warm wash of intense sun only to be left stretching for even a scrap of light when it was rooted solidly to the ground, blocked from the single isolating cloud that didn't appear to overshadow the rest of the meadow. He had been deprived of his sunlight and it was driving him insane, he depended on her attention for warmth and satisfaction. And even worse he didn't know why, what had he done to make her stop shinning on him? 

He had tried so hard over the past several days once he had noticed something awry, but every time he started up a conversation it was shot down. Not impolitely, but certainly, not friendly either, not the person he had grown to expect over the years, to cherish- the extremes to which he would go to see her smile at him were getting ridiculous, he was an addict and she was selfishly depriving him.

Derek Morgan was distraught.

A small modicum of hope bloomed in his chest when he heard their new assignment. Despite the obviously horrific serial killer, it was one that would not fail to get his heart racing even without the currently present cold turkey from his vice, one he would at any given time derive immense joy from being as close to her as the assignment would entail.

That hope was then snuffed out as she didn't make eye contact, didn't respond to the tease he baited her with, and ran away as soon as the meeting was over, not even holding the elevator door for him whether it be through lack of hearing or effort he did not know. What he did know was that this assignment was happening, that the decision was already made by the higher-ups, and the fact that they would be spending at least the next week together was irrefutable. And his chance to find out whatever he had done and fix it.

A/N: Please comment any and all constructive criticisms you may have!

[hannahssimblr]

I watch the clock above the whiteboard as the minute hand inches closer and closer to twelve. Four seconds, three seconds, two seconds…

It’s five. My chair scrapes against the linoleum and I start running. Past Mr. Doherty’s desk, out the door, into the hallway, down the stairs, damn it why is this school so big? Another hallway, a foyer, the front entrance… 

“Don’t forget to sign out!” The secretary calls after me and I huff and turn back around, yanking my student ID card out of my pocket and slamming it into the sign-in machine, and then I hurry out, down the steps, out the gate and onto the rush hour Clontarf streets. 

The air is like daggers on my face and my school bag is weighed with a ton of books. My stupid trousers and my stupid blazer are slowing me down too, as is having to wait for the stupid green man at the stupid pedestrian crossing. I don’t bother in the end, I just swerve through traffic and give the woman in the SUV who blows her horn at me the middle finger. 

The house is so far up the Howth Road that it might as well be in Killester, and I sprint the whole way with my bag jostling, as commuters alighting the buses onto the darkened winter streets glance at me with dull surprise as I thunder past them and shove through the gates of a little enclave community of Georgian houses concealed from the road. 

I knock on the door of number two.

“Oh, we thought you’d forgotten about us,” Ivy’s piano teacher looks rightfully perturbed when she answers.

I have to cling onto the doorframe and catch my breath, “I’m so sorry, they made me stay behind at school.”

“It’s ten past five, her lesson ended forty minutes ago. I had her sitting in for the entire duration of the lesson after hers.”

“I know, I know,” I wheeze, “Is she okay?”

“Well she’s a little upset,” She goes through the hallway door to retrieve my teary eyed sister from the practice room. “We thought you forgot about her, actually I tried to phone you several times…”

“Ivy…” I hold my hand out to her and she regards me with a furious clenched jaw and a hot, teary face. She fists her hands into my blazer and shoves her face into it so that her teacher won’t see her crying and I just lamely pat her shoulder in apology. “Um, well, I’ll pay you the money anyway, I’ll give you double for the trouble…”

“No, just the usual is fine.” Her teacher says with pursed lips, “These things happen but just know I’m on a schedule, and I’m not a babysitter…”

“I know, again, I’m so sorry. Thank you for looking after her, I… it won’t happen again. I’ll be on time next week.”

“I’m certain you will.”

Ivy tries to make me carry her home on my back as reparations, but I beg her for mercy after two minutes because she is not three and tiny anymore, my bag weighs as much as her and I’m still so gruesomely hungover that I’m not sure how far I can even carry my own body without needing to crumple up in a heap on the ground. She’s merciful today and lets me away with it, possibly because she can tell I’m off, but she doesn’t let me forget what I put her through. 

“I want you to make me pizza tonight,” she demands, “With pepperoni, and not chorizo like you got last time, it’s not the same. I want pepperoni. And do you remember that time you got that packet of it with spicy pepper around the outside? Well I don’t want that either.”

“Uh huh, how about you give me a break?”

“You left me at my piano lesson!”

“Yeah, I recall.”

She peers up at me, “Are you sick? You look horrible.”

“Thanks for that. Yeah, I am. I think I ate something funny.”

“Oh…” She looks troubled, “Well can you still make me pizza?”

The idea of going through the effort of the flour and the dough and the tomato sauce makes me feel slightly faint, “How about I buy you a pizza instead? Yeah? And I don’t mean a frozen one from the supermarket, I mean one from the Italian pizzeria down in the village.”

She gasps. 

“But you have to eat it in the restaurant. We’re not bringing it home and getting caught out by leaving the box in the bin. And when mom and dad get home later on you can tell them that I made you something healthy for dinner instead.”

“You’re a liar,” She says with a sly smile that creeps up her face, “We’re both liars.”

“Yeah, dead right. It pays off.”

“I’m still upset about the piano lesson.”

I muss up her hair, “No you’re not, shut up.”

“Uh huh! I am. When we get to the restaurant I might need a milkshake too.”

“You’re pushing it, Ivy, you can’t push me…”

“I can,” she shrugs, and it’s a fact so undeniable that all I can do is laugh. 

“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that milkshake when we get there.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[spartanguard]

sons of love and death, 2/13 {CSSNS 23}

Summary: After the Final Battle, Killian Jones had finally settled into his happily ever after with his wife and family. Until a new foe arrived in Storybrooke: the infamous Dorian Gray, who looks rather familiar—one might say identical—to the pirate, and he’s on a mission: to claim the powers of the Dark One for himself. There’s only one problem: the Dark One no longer exists. What follows is a journey of vengeance, revelations, magic, and finally facing down the darkness within himself that Killian thought he’d finally put to rest. [roughly canon divergent from 5B, though set post-canon]

A/N: Time for the next chapter of this year’s @cssns​ story! (I plan to update every Wednesday :D ) Thank you for the warm reception to the first part; hope you enjoy this next one as well! Also: A shout-out to my writing crew on Discord; thank you for all your support as I've worked on this!!!! (And eternal thanks to the best beta, @optomisticgirl​!)

rated M | 2.6k words | AO3 | 1

"That's not Killian."

"Are you sure?" David sounded skeptical of Emma’s statement, but she had no clue why.

"Of course I'm sure; he’s my freaking husband. That's not him," she insisted, pointing to the (admittedly handsome) stranger in the cell.

For starters, Emma had literally just left Killian at the library; there was no way he'd have had the time to start a fight with Leroy at Granny's AND get arrested in the span of 5 minutes. (At least, not anymore.)

Second, she would know him anywhere, any time, in any world. Even the haggard version of Killian she’d met in the Wish Realm was undeniably him.

So while this clearly hungover man looked and sounded like Killian, she knew it wasn't. There was nothing but anger deep in this man's eyes—a look Killian hadn't had in ages. She briefly entertained the possibility he was cursed, or that this was some kind of glamour spell or time travel, but then she took a closer look at his face: the scar was all wrong—it was deeper and cut a jagged line into his left cheek; Killian's was light and curved down the right side. And to top it all off, he had two hands.

But that only raised another question.

"Who are you?"

"Finally, one of you idiots doesn't pretend to know me." A chill went down her spine; it was Killian's voice, alright, but with more venom and spite than his ever had in the time she’d known him. And the accent was ever so slightly different—less of a lilt and more of an edge.

"I'll ask again: who are you?" She'd gotten pretty good at reading Killian, but it was proving near impossible with this guy (further proof that it was not her favorite pirate).

"How about you tell me who everyone thinks I am?" There was a challenge in his tone.

"Nope." No way was she letting him find out about Killian if he didn’t already know. "Why are you here, then?"

"That's my business." His face suddenly turned dark—well, darker—and she grew fearful. Because even though she knew he was a different person, he was starting to remind her an awful lot of the man she found hiding under some bodies in the Enchanted Forest, who was willing to burn heaven and hell to get his revenge.

"You made it our business when you came into this town," David supplied. "Either tell us why you're here, and maybe we can help you, or let us escort you out of town."

A sudden rage came over the man, and he jumped up and grabbed at the cell's bars. "I'm not leaving until I've taken what's mine!" A fire burned in his eyes as he shouted.

No, wait—that was actual fire. His hands began to glow a hot red-orange and she heard a distinct hissing sound. Two jaws dropped as the man melted the metal in his hands and then some, giving him an easy exit.

He angrily stepped through the hole he'd just made and began to stride out of the station. David attempted to grab him, but the man twisted away and turned to give them both a menacing look.

"Stay out of my way and leave the Dark One to me," he warned. A moment later, he appeared to be engulfed in flames, and the next, he was gone. Emma exchanged a look of shock with her father.

"Definitely not Hook."

“Duh,” she deadpanned. But she was stuck on something else. "The Dark One?"

"He must not know."

They didn't get a chance to process the encounter before the station phone was ringing. David answered it and hung up not a minute later, sighing.

"Speaking of."

"Gold?"

"Yeah. Turns out his shop got ransacked last night."

"Shit. And I bet we know who did it."

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・🗡・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

So he had a doppelganger in this town; that was why everyone seemed to know him. He had transported to a spot down the street from the pawn shop and was mulling over this new detail as he made his way there, lighting a fresh cigarette as he went. He relished the fact that he'd made some trouble for his lookalike. And maybe he could use that to his advantage here.

The door still hung ajar at the pawn shop when he arrived and he could hear someone shuffling around inside. He had to pause and take a moment to calm himself down—after centuries, he was finally only feet away from his quarry; he couldn't let his hot temper get in the way right now.

As quietly as he could, he stepped toward the entryway and looked in. A graying man was poking around and muttering, leaning on a cane and inspecting the damage. Why didn’t he just wave his hand and fix it all? Surely the Dark One would have no issue with magic as small as that.

A horrific thought entered his mind: what if the power of the Dark One was void in this realm? And that was why he had a hard time sensing it? He finally got a glimpse of the crippled man’s face: it was definitely Rumpelstiltskin. But he’d yet to pick up any full traces of that dark magic.

“I know you’re there, dearie,” a voice with a distinct brogue called out. Smirking, he stepped through the threshold.

He finally stood to face-to-face with his longtime prey. Rumpelstiltskin stared back; he looked nothing like how a Dark One should appear, though—he was utterly and completely normal.

“Captain, this is highly unusual.” In his reverie, he missed the look of recognition in the Dark One’s eyes.

Captain? Well that was a juicy little tidbit. Perhaps there’d be an adjoining vessel with which to hightail it out of here. “Just seeing how you liked my handiwork.”

Only a few feet of rubble-covered wood floor separated the two. “Are you here about your hand, or is there some other reason you’ve decided to break into and ransack my shop? I thought we were done, for good.”

Hand? He quickly thought back to the appendage in a jar and made sure both of his were out of sight as he meandered across the shop, pausing to lean against the counter. “I think there’s something else you can help me with, Dark One.”

“Really? Still using that title.” Rumpeltstiltskin gave a self-satisfied smirk that looked far too natural on his face.

Careful to use his right hand (the one in the jar was a left, he’d noticed), he took the dying cigarette from his teeth and put it out in the wood of the counter. Anger rose in his chest at his foe's cockiness and lack of fear—that wasn’t something he was used to. “Where is the dagger?” he asked, voice low.

“The dagger?” Rumpelstiltskin bore an incredulous expression, but the confusion only set off his own anger (so much for trying to collect himself). In a flash, he was at the other man’s throat, the beginnings of a ball of fire forming in his palm just inches from the Dark One’s face.

“Where is your dagger?” he growled again, emphasizing each word.

A stream of emotions flitted across the apparent Mr. Gold’s face: confusion, anger, fear, and finally realization.

“Who are you?” he sputtered out.

“The man who’s going to take your power.” His voice was barely more than a rasp at this point; he was too close to back down now.

To his utter shock, the Dark One laughed. It took him by surprise, and the fireball fizzled out before it had even finished forming. 

But he regained composure. “You find your demise funny?”

“I know who you are; you've been dogging me for years. But you’re too late, by quite some time. There is no Dark One; not anymore.”

He pulled back, jaw slack. Out of all the scenarios he’d envisioned, he hadn’t even contemplated this. “Impossible.”

“I’ll let the sheriff explain.”

Seemingly on cue, Emma from the station barged through the open door, gun raised and leveled at his chest. As if that would do anything. He was about to knock back the weapon with a wave of his hand, but something in her steely gaze gave him pause.

She didn’t fuck around, he could tell. But he wasn’t about to let some small-town cop spoil his quest. He guessed she had been nothing more than a jailer back in the Enchanted Forest—he knew well enough how the curse worked. So she was certainly no match for him.

"Look, darling, like I said—this doesn’t involve you.” He walked toward her, adopting a softer tone, as if speaking to a pet. “Now, I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. But if you won’t leave me be, sweetheart, then you leave me no choice."

Another fireball appeared in his hand and he shot it toward the sheriff. But she deflected it with a jerk of her arm and a pulse of white light. Of course the law enforcement had magic, he thought with a sigh. Just then, the male sheriff arrived; could he do the same?

"Who the hell are you?" she asked with a confident but stern voice.

"Well ain't that the question of the hour." She was staring daggers at him. "You can read my name when it’s engraved on the Dark One’s dagger," he threw back, gesturing at Rumpelstiltskin. "Run along now; this is between us." He waved her off.

She wasn’t fazed. Instead, she smirked, taking a thick black bracelet her partner offered. "You know what this does?"

"No clue." He didn't have time for games, but before he knew it, she'd slipped it onto his wrist. 

He tried to conjure it off—burn through it, melt it, anything—but nothing happened; it was as if his magic was blocked. "What the fuck?" Tugging was no use, either. "What did you do?" he roared.

Smoothly, she cuffed him—with actual handcuffs this time. Before they left, she looked over at the former Dark One. “Is there any way to tell—”

“Yes, indeed.” A yank of his head and a prick of pain on his scalp told him that Rumpelstiltskin had taken some of his hair.

“What the hell do you need that for?” His query fell on deaf ears.

“I’ll require the Captain’s, too,” his foe told the sheriff, who nodded in assent.

He was unceremoniously shoved outside and into the back of the squad car. “Don’t you have to read me my rights in this country?” he protested.

“Yeah. You have the right to shut up.”

Surprising himself, he complied. The weight of what he’d been told moments earlier was just beginning to settle in: there was no more Dark One. As preposterous as it sounded, it made sense: there were no traces of the Darkness, or even magic, on Rumpelstiltskin, and nothing as dark as what he sought anywhere here. A sense of emptiness consumed him as he realized his life's purpose, his lone goal, simply ceased to exist. 

What now?

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・🗡・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

The wail of the siren was a rude and somewhat jarring intrusion on the peace and quiet of the library. Killian nearly dropped the book he was reshelving—part of his new role as assistant librarian—and Belle was interrupted from her processing of returned items. Both watched the squad car speed by, then exchanged a concerned look.

"They...they were coming from the direction of the shop," Belle stated, shakily. After everything had been resolved with the Darkness and everyone returned to the land of the living, he and the former Dark One had come to an uneasy peace, mainly for the sake of Belle. She was his closest friend in town, outside of his in-laws, and they would always share a unique bond in their love affairs with the Dark One; hers was far longer than his, although his own dabble with the Darkness made his (and Emma’s) a bit more intense. 

And in the varying events of their lives since—Gideon’s (traumatic) birth, his and Emma’s wedding, the fight against the Black Fairy, Henry’s departure, and everything else—they’d been by each other’s sides, even going so far as to work together at the library. (Emma had offered him a position at the station, but was more than understanding when Belle’s counteroffer won out, knowing how it would sate his constant craving for knowledge.) Belle was like the little sister he’d never had, and he felt protective over her.

So that was why, without hesitation, he set the books down and stepped toward the door. "Shall we?"

She quickly joined him and they raced outside and down the street to the shop. He wasn't surprised to see the door hanging open, but the lack of a doorknob altogether was surprising, as well as what looked like puddles of solid metal on the ground.

"Rumple! Are you alright?" Belle shouted as she ran into the arms of the man in question. Glass crunched underfoot and Killian had to admit, it was an impressive mess.

"Who came to exact their revenge this time?" he asked dryly. He never agreed to liking his former adversary—only the barest level of civility.

"Ahh, of course you'd know the signs of vengeance anywhere," Gold snarled back. In a few surprisingly short strides, the man was in front of Killian and reached up to yank a few hairs from his head.

"Rumple!" Belle admonished.

"What the hell was that for, mate? It wasn't me." Killian cursed Gold further internally while rubbing at the now-sore spot on his scalp.

"I know that. But there's something else we have to figure out." Rumpelstiltskin placed the hairs in a vial from his jacket, which had a few others in there already. "Belle, my darling, will you help me with something?"

"Of course," she immediately replied, but Killian could see confusion and a bit of worry on her face. Her husband may have lost his powers and was no longer under the influence of the darkness, but it had still shaped his personality over the centuries and no one but Belle knew if he had any true remaining malevolence.

"Now why don't you run along to the station, Captain. I think there's something there of interest to you." Killian didn't like the threatening tone that came his way, but he nodded his assent and bid Belle goodbye.

As he rushed across town, he felt uneasy about what was waiting at the station; regardless of what he'd been told, his concern was directed at Emma before himself. He couldn't bear the thought of some evil attaching itself to or going after her again, and it was nothing good that melted that doorknob and trashed the store.

By the time he was within a block of the station, he was sprinting, fear consuming him as his imagination ran faster than his feet. "Emma!" he shouted as he threw open the station door and ran in.

To his relief, she seemed untouched, and was deep in conversation with David and whoever was in one of the station's cells.

"Hey, is everything alright?" she asked as he wrapped his arms around her.

"If you're fine, then yes," he sighed into her hair. "Gold told me to come here; I was worried."

She pulled back to study his face, and he could see the trepidation on her face. "Swan, what is it?"

Before she could answer, a familiar voice called out from the cell—perhaps too familiar. "What the actual fuck?"

Killian looked at the prisoner and began to wonder if his eyesight was finally failing him or if there was some kind of magic afoot, because he may as well have been looking in a mirror at the form identical to his behind the bars.

"Bloody hell."

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・🗡・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

thanks for reading! (longer chapters to come!) tagging some peeps (let me know if you do/don’t want a tag!) @kat2609 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @shireness-says @ohmightydevviepuu @wistfulcynic @pirateherokillian @colinoeyebrows @wingedlioness @word-bug @thisonesatellite​ @wellhellotragic​ @welllpthisishappening​ @let-it-raines​ @killianmesmalls​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @ineffablecolors​ @ive-always-been-a-pirate​ @nfbagelperson​ @stubblesandwich​ @phiralovesloki​ @athenascarlet​ @kmomof4​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @snowbellewells​ @idristardis​ @scientificapricot​ @searchingwardrobes​ @donteattheappleshook​ @jrob64​ @the-darkdragonfly​ @stahlop​ @klynn-stormz​ @resident-of-storybrooke​

[cheese-ducks]

TWRP ORIGINS

Chapter 7: I Can't Believe This Is My Life

Main master list

Previous chapter Next chapter

(Warnings: descriptions of anxiety)

Jack woke up feeling well rested, something he hadn't done in a while. Stan on the other hand was slightly hungover from the party last night.

"Hey, brah." Stan opened the door, his voice sounding slightly groggy. "Feeling better about the show?"

Oh right, the show. Guilt swirled into Jack's stomach at the mere mention of the concert. "I guess a little, again, I'm super sorry about missing it."

"Dude, it's no prob. Get that through your nerdy little head!" His insistence didn't make the guilt completely disappear, but Jack quietly laughed at the phrasing. 

"Thanks." He replied sarcastically. 

Jack checked the status of the house as Stan drifted to his bedroom. His parents' cars were absent from the driveway and his brother was definitely out of commission. The coast was clear. 

"So how did enrichment time go?" Jack's hushed voice barely breaking a whisper.

"It was incredibly enlightening!" Sung's voice was crystal clear in his head. It didn't feel as weird as he thought it would. "I have never felt more ascendant in my life!"

"To be honest I'm feeling pretty ascended myself, it's nice to know we both had a good night." 

He could vaguely recall Sung's night. Sung handed out the gifts, his mini fridge got destroyed by the robot from the parking lot, and they just had a good time. He remembered the feeling more clearly than the event itself, that was the part that felt weird. 

"And it's also good to know I am not crazy." His eyes darted around the room as he reconsidered his statement. "Well," he laughed awkwardly thinking about the last week and a half. "Uh, I wasn't wrong. I won't say that I'm not crazy, but I wasn't missing anything the other day. So yeah, that makes sense." 

Day one of sharing a vessel had officially started. 

.........................................................................

It was a pretty uneventful day, which was probably good for the first one. Jack mostly hung around the house doing various chores that Stan was supposed to be doing, if not for his currently hungover state. He figured it was the least he could do after missing the show. Sung was actually good company during the mundane activities, often asking questions about anything and everything. It brought a sense of wonder Jack didn't think was possible while washing dishes and vacuuming the floors. 

"Y'know, normally chores are super boring but it's actually been kind of fun with you around." Jack said as he finished sweeping the kitchen.

"Annihilating boredom is what I do best." Sung gloated for a bit. "Wait, these tasks usually inflict boredom?" His tone was much more concerned now. 

"Uh, yeah. It's chores." Jack replied with confusion.

"How often do you have to complete them?"

"Probably once a week, at least." His casual tone had Sung reeling. 

"Fascinating. Perhaps humans have a higher tolerance for boredom than most beings." 

"Maybe," He shrugged as he put the broom away and sat on the couch. "Because I probably should have taken a break an hour ago but I just wanna get this over with."

"Well it's very heroic of you to protect your brother from the forces of boredom while he recovers." 

"I guess boredom is a little bit different on Earth. It isn't some evil force to be destroyed, it just kinda happens sometimes." 

Sung's silence spoke volumes like he hadn't considered that before, or he was afraid to tell his band mates. Feeling his emotions was still weird, but Jack continued.

"And I mean you're not gonna kill boredom by staying hidden all the time. Why not do some busking or something?"

"What is that?"

"Oh, it's when you play music on the street, sometimes for money, the idea of it makes me nervous as hell." 

Sung considered it for a while before he answered. 

"Bringing amusement and joy to the masses in guerilla style warfare against boredom, it's brilliant! I will tell my band mates at once!"

.........................................................................

The first show on Earth, the first time these humans would be saved from the clutches of boredom! Everything was set up and poised to dominate. Havve's drum machine and the few amps they could bring were in place, Phobos' guitar case was set just in front so that people could give them money. It was all ready, and yet Sung was terrified. It was incredibly strange. He was sweating, his stomach hurt, he wanted to bite his hands; the most confusing of the symptoms. Being in front of the small crowd that had gathered out of curiosity felt wrong somehow. The strangest part was the all-encompassing force begging him not to play. Music was the one thing that brought him joy, how could he be scared to do it? He'd never felt like this before. Regardless he had a world to save so the boys began to play. Sung could feel the crowd's reactions. There was an initial state of bewilderment but most people who saw them began to dance and have fun. There was about 15 people in the crowd but all 15 minds were blown. As the show went on Sung's nerves still persisted. It slightly dissipated as the set progressed but it was still overwhelmingly present. Seeing how much fun his band mates were having helped it dissipate. Meouch was feeling the happiest he'd been since they crash landed, every riff and lick filled with passion and joy. Phobos was nervous at first due to the oxygen levels and general atmosphere, so he wore his helmet outside the ship as a precaution, but even through his metallic silicone mask Sung knew he was having a blast. Havve was executing each beat perfectly but there was an energy to his playing he hadn't seen in a while. It's as if the crowd was supplying him with the resolve to keep playing, as if he liked entertaining them. It was the most fun they'd ever had on this planet. This was truly special. 

The energy slowly faded as the night went on. Coming down from the high of performing was never an issue for Sung, but today he felt a massive weight off his shoulders. He was playing music with his friends all night, something that never scared him before. Why was he scared  now?

"Are you gonna help us, fearless leader?" 

Meouch's sarcastic remark snapped him out of his daze. 

"Of course I will, I'm just lost in thought I guess." He still wasn't completely focused on the task at hand. The question was a dark presence in his mind over the otherwise cheerful cleanup. He racked his brain for what could've caused the unprecedented negative emotions, until suddenly he remembered what the human had said.

"the idea of it makes me nervous as hell." 

It was him. 

.........................................................................

Jack came to in his bedroom. It sucked but at least he knew why he was blacked out at all. His bedroom window was open all the way, letting in the cool summer air. 

"Please remember close my window, man." Jack complained, assuming Sung was back in his head. 

"Who are you talking to?" 

He jumped at the sound of Stan's voice, he looked significantly better than this morning. Jack forgot that he was essentially talking to himself.

"Oh, um..." It was best to be at least semi honest, right? "I'm just mumbling to myself, so I don't forget anything." 

Stan looked a bit confused but overall he didn't suspect a thing.

"Well if it works, bud." He did a double take as he was about to leave the room. "Speaking of forgetting stuff where's your fridge?" Stan asked.

"I finally threw it out." There was a pride to his semi lie. It was kind of thrilling living this weird double life. 

"Good for you. Night, brah." 

"Night, brah."

He climbed into bed feeling completely normal for a change. Day one of sharing a vessel went off without a hitch, so far Jack was able to live his life and Sung was able to live his. There was still the blacking out part that he didn't care for at all, but he could talk to Sung about that in the morning. For right now he was optimistic about his secret double life and content to sleep thinking about what could be in store. He couldn't sleep however because Sung was right next to his face, glaring at him with deadly serious eyes. Jack flinched so hard he nearly fell out of bed. 

"What the fuck, man!" Though frightened at Sung's unmasked form, Jack still kept a hushed tone. 

"In the nicest way possible, what have you done to me, human?"

[multiple-authors]

(7 July 2023)

Feeling slightly hungover after an opening last night. I only had one glass of wine, but did eat a McDonald’s on the way home. Doing some dark washing now with my gym clothes in, they were too dirty to wear out again now. I am noticing that exercising first thing in the morning is really helping me to set the tone for the day, and I generally feel better once I’ve worked out. Shutting out morning distractions is also helpful too. Realising nobody knows what's going on. Everyone is insecure. Need to be more realistic about what I can actually achieve in the time I have. This will allow me to be more consistent, create more and allow me to share more. Going to aim to finish the fighting painting - however it takes shape - by the end of the day. Or as close to finishing it as possible.  Need to think more about promoting myself.

[whereisten]

No Overnight Stays (m)

Summary: you’re an escort assigned to a different man for each day of the week. The rules are simple and strict, the money is grand, and simply put, you enjoy your job. But what happens when you start to develop feelings for one—or maybe two—of your clients?

Pairing: Female reader x Mark (x Jaehyun)

Genre: sugar baby!reader, smuttttt, a little fluff and a dash of angst :/ sorry, love triangle

Warnings: alcohol use, cursing, descriptive smut (breast fondling, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), cockwarming, slight somnophilia, facial, threesome, cream pie, impregnation kink, dirty talk, sir kink, hair pulling and spanking, double penetration, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex (be safe tho!), rough sex) I hope that’s it lmaooo

Word Count: 5.5K

————-

A man for every day of the week. That was your agreement with your escort agency. They’d set up your schedule so that you’d “belong” to one man for a specific day of the week. 

Some days you’d have sex with them, some days you were just their company or a place for them to go when they got tired of their spouses.

But either way, you were paid very handsomely for your services. All you had to do was have your phone on and make sure you were available to provide the services asked of you within the hour. They all had keys to your apartment, so they could let themselves in and wait if you weren’t there.

It was easy and luckily for you, the men you dealt with were all young business men that respected you. Some were rough and demanding, some were soft and shy, but they all made sure you were comfortable with their requests and granted you a safe word. Furthermore, the agency provided you with emergency buttons for you to place in every room, just in case one of your clients got out of hand.

Tonight, you had just finished up with Yuta, an incredibly handsome man that was away from his wife back home in Japan for a 6 month job venture. A pal of his suggested the agency to him so that his needs would be satisfied while he was away from home and based on his preferences and desires, you were his top choice.

He was kind and careful, whispering sweet words into your ear as he fingered you and got you ready. He treated you like you were his wife, and you often felt your face become warm. But when he was inside you, he pushed deep and hard, making sure his hips met with your ass as he bent you over the table.

“Ahh fuck..” he curses while releasing himself into you and tugging on your hair harshly.

He pants and pulls himself out, watching as his cum mixed with yours leaks down your shaking legs.

“Did you eat?” He asks, zipping his pants as he watches you pull your panties back up.

“No not yet, but I have some leftover spaghetti that is calling my name.”

You move your hair out of your face.

“I can grab something for you before I leave..what would you like?” Yuta shimmies his jacket onto his toned body.

He was always sweet like this, unlike some men that just left.

“Ohh—Hmm...there’s a place—“ you started but his phone interrupted you.

“Oh..I’m sorry..it’s her..” He looks up at you slowly and you can see the regret fall on his face. He really loved his wife, he couldn’t help but feel guilty sometimes.

“I-I have to go.”

He turns to leave and you walk behind him to lock the door.

“Hey hun! I just left work!” His voice echoes in the hallway.

You sigh and walk to your bathroom with a slight limp. Yuta always stretched you out and left you aching slightly, but you knew it was something a little warm water would fix.

While you stood under the hot water like a sinner bathing in hell, you thought about your life. Were you really happy? Sure, the easy money you made and the “free” upscale apartment you lived in were amazing. How could you ask for more?

Well that’s just the thing, your heart didn’t care about these material things sometimes, it wanted a person. Someone that would love you, really love you. However, with a lifestyle like this, how could you expect to find a partner that would be okay with it? How could you devote time to them?

You shook your head and stepped out of the grand shower.

You poured yourself some wine and sat by yourself on the couch. It was a typical night for you. When all the fun was over, you were alone.

———

[The Next Day]

You went grocery shopping when Mark dinged you on the agency’s app. He’d be at your apartment soon so you needed to wrap things up and get back.

Mark was possibly your favorite client. The young single man was very gentle and always asked what you wanted to do. Of course, he knew that he wanted to have sex and that’s what he paid for, but he didn’t feel comfortable with handling your arranged situation that way.

Some days you’d just watch a few movies or go for coffee together. Some days he’d show you new restaurants or museums while you hung onto his arm like an actual girlfriend. He wasn’t afraid to bring you with him anywhere because the truth was that he wanted you to be his...and not just in the sexual or physical way. He wanted to date you.

Having been so consumed with work all the time, he found that you were one of the few things that made him relax and be happy, he could experience life with you and he was incredibly thankful for that.

“Hey Mark!” You struggle to get into your apartment with both arms filled with bags.

“Oh, let me get that for you.” He rushes over from the dining table and to the door to help you in.

After settling all of the bags onto the table, he chuckles. “So I take it you don’t like making two trips?”

You giggle and shake your head. “No..absolutely not. I don’t wanna waste precious time that I could be spending with you.” You teased him and stepped closer.

You held out your arm and flexed it, embarrassingly enough, no muscles showed through. “Plus, can’t you see how strong I am?”

Mark laughs out and leans forward to kiss you.

He holds your face in his hands like you were made of glass, gently caressing your cheeks as your tongue dances with his.

Your arms wrap around his waist so you feel his warm chest on yours. Your eyes shut immediately and you smelled his fresh cologne, like cotton.

He pulls away, kissing your forehead as you regain your steady breathing.

“What do you want to do today?”

Your heart races at his question. You wanted to cuddle, to just be with someone and feel loved. But that would be pushing the terms and conditions.

You search your apartment to avoid his gaze, but he knew you were deep in thought, his kiss had sent your mind into a wild frenzy. What did it mean when an escort was affected by such measly things? 

“Come on..don’t think too hard now, tell me what’s the first thing that came into your mind?” Mark leans forward to whisper low into your ear. His voice, deep and husky, makes you even more confused.

You finally look up at him and sigh. “Ahh Mark, you make me feel..” You shake your head.

Were you about to be honest with him and tell him about your growing crush?

His eyes grow and a smile creeps across his face.

“Like sleeping..” You look down again, never seeing his face fall.

“Oh, dude..am I that boring?”

You chuckle and look back up at him to see the genuine hurt in his eyes.

You shake your head and press your hand onto his chest. “No-No, you’re not..it’s just..”

“Y/n...why do you keep looking at me like that?” Mark knew there was something else you wanted, he could see the doubt in your eyes, the internal struggle you faced was coming to the surface. He also knew you drank the night before based on the empty bottle of wine in the living room.

“I-I don’t know,” You chuckle and step away from him. “Maybe I’m still a little hungover. I’m sorry.”

You start to take your things out of your bags. “Help me out, will you?” You pout.

Mark chuckles and takes the bread out of the bag. “I can’t believe I’m paying for this.”

You shrug your shoulders. “You’re the one that asked me what I want to do.”

He sighs. “Okay, touché. But after this, we’ll cuddle and sleep since you’re tired and/or hungover.”

Yeah, it was 6 in the evening, but Mark was just happy to be with you.

“Sounds good.”

After you put everything away, you took Mark to your room and sat him down on the bed.

You took his hoodie off over his head, ruffling his hair in the process. You ran your fingers through it, watching as his wide eyes gazed up at you like you were an angel.

He places both hands on either side of your waist, watching as you unbutton your cardigan in front of him slowly. Mark grows hotter and hotter with each button coming undone, a slight sliver of your beautiful, soft skin growing into your naked chest drives him crazy.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

He licks his lips, tightening his grip on your waist as he brings you down onto his lap. He wastes no time, latching into your nipple and sucking it. His tongue flicks across the nub while your hands run through his scalp, causing a low groan to escape his body.

He aches for you, his member strains against his sweatpants. You feel it press onto your jeans as you also get hot. With the way Mark’s spit coats your breasts, you’re sure you’d be showing through your jeans how aroused you are soon enough.

Your room becomes steamy suddenly, the two of you filling it with moans and whimpers as he massages your breasts.

“B-baby..I want you..” You whine and grind down onto him. 

Mark loves when you call him that while begging for more.

He places you down onto the bed, helping you take your jeans off as your mouth falls open.

He drags your panties down your legs slowly, teasingly.

“Baby..please..”

“I thought you wanted to sleep?” He raises an eyebrow as he pries your legs open and moves his face to the space created.

He focuses on your heat, licking his lips when he sees how wet you are already.

“Yeah..but..” your sentence is cut short when he licks a long stripe along your entrance.

“Mark!” You yelp as his tongue surprises you.

He kisses the inner skin of your thigh while still gripping the crooks of your knees. “Yes, sweetheart. Do you want me to stop? Does the little baby want to sleep?”

He asks with a mocking tone, but not without brushing two digits over your clit. You gasp and flinch under him.

“You’re so cruel..” 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll just fuck you to sleep if that’s what you want.”

He says before pushing his fingers in harder, finding that fleshy spot instantly as your legs widen more. He kisses your bud while looking up at you through dark eyes.

“Am I the best one?” He asks innocently, fingers still pumping in and out of your soaking entrance.

“Y-yes..” you immediately answer without thinking, your mind solely focused on the building tension in your stomach.

He moves his head up and down as he licks your clit. He just needs to apply a bit more pressure and you’ll be in the clouds.

You intertwine your fingers with locks of his luscious brown hair and arch your back.

“More baby, please.”

“Oh look at you begging..” he breathes against your aching pussy.

He fingers pump harder and caress that one spot that he knows will have you reeling in just a few minutes.

“You know..I think you should just be mine..will you be mine?”

He says in between kisses on your clit.

And you’re so close, all you can do is nod and whimper.

You lick your lips while looking at the gorgeous man in between your legs. He locks eyes with you as his tongue works wonders on your core when combined with his fingers.

You clench around him from the sight. He chuckles and cracks a smile at how easily you fall apart. But he doesn’t let you experience the so desperately needed orgasm you need. He withdraws his fingers, a pop echoes into the room. 

“Mark?!” You cry out at the sudden emptiness.

Mark mimics your pout and hovers over you.

“Why don’t you answer my question first?”

You caress his face and lick your lips. “Can we talk about this later?”

He shakes his head. “It’s a simple question, y/n. I know you feel it too.”

He was right, you did feel a connection with him, but you couldn’t let him know that. You could lose your job.

“Mark..” you whisper low as you bring his face closer to yours. You lock eyes with him, your gaze shifting from an innocent one to one that is filled with lust and fire.

“The only thing I want to feel right now is your cock..I just want to feel it so deep in my silky, wet pussy.”

He swallows hard as you push your body up slightly to rub your entrance against his crotch.

“Come on, baby..fill me up...I won’t let a single drop escape”

Mark can’t take your lustful words any longer. He pushes his prior thoughts to the side and focuses on easing his painfully hard cock.

He immediately pushes his waistband down and looks into your eyes as he pushes into you. You moan as you feel completely satisfied by his long and girthy cock filling you up and touching all parts of your velvety walls instantly.

He watches your head fall into the pillow behind you and kisses your neck.

“God..I hate the way you make me so fucking horny that I forget what I was even asking..”

It was a lie, Mark knew exactly what he was asking, but decided to push it away since you wouldn’t give in to him.

He rarely cursed when he was with you, a part of you felt that you had awoken something deep within him so you decided to push him along further. He thrusts into you slowly and gently like he usually did. Mark was your typical vanilla sex partner and it made for a great balance to the opposite partners you had. But you wanted to see just how riled up he could get.

“Oh, Mark, just yesterday another man fucked me until I couldn’t walk..how can I be yours if you can’t compete with men like that?”

You hold his face in your hand and look into his eyes.

He chuckles and pushes into you hard and sudden.

“If that’s what you want, Princess, that’s all you have to say..you know I can do whatever you ask.”

“Be rough with me, make me yours..baby.”

He presses your knees far apart and lifts himself up from your chest.

He slides in and out of you hard, watching as your breasts move up and down from his thrusts.

“You’re the perfect fit for me."

He tilts his head to the side and goes deeper.

His cock curves into you at the perfect angle, making you clench and arch your back more.

You’re sprawled out under him, your knees to your chest as you bite your bottom lip and feel that tension build again.

He runs a hand down your warm chest and stomach, his fingers draw circles onto your skin, causing small fires to dance across it. The pads of his fingertips then lift the skin above your pussy, exposing your clit to him.

He taps it gently and hums to himself. “So pretty..”

He thrusts into you hard as you squeal.

His other hand finds your throat and grips it.

“Gonna fuck you to sleep just like you asked..but then..I won’t leave..I’ll stay inside your pretty pussy since it’s mine..and I’ll fuck it again in the morning...since it’s mine.”

Mark wasn’t asking anymore. He was going to make you his. And as much as you wanted that to happen, you were nervous as you had a job to fulfill. If he stayed over and into the next morning, he’d be cutting into your other client’s day. You could be caught with him and receive a complaint for breaking the “no overnight stays” rule.

“I’m so close..” You run your hands down his abs and watch as he pounds into you from above. He pants heavily, his palm feels sweaty around your throat.

“Can’t wait to cum deep inside you..nothing will leak out..Isn’t that right, baby?” His fingertips move faster into your clit. Mark was always great at finding your sweet spots and it was because he truly cared about your pleasure.

You nod and clench around him again, feeling the head of his cock twitch.

His movement stutters from the action, he falls forward as his grip on your neck tightens.

He cums into your body, filling you to the brim with everything he has. 

You climax as well, scratching into his back as you arch into him more. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you curse.

That was the first of many climaxes for that night. You’d take breaks in between, but soon Mark was eating you out or fingering you until your nails dug into his back and you cried out his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. 

He wasn’t letting up on his promise to make you his, as each orgasm was intense and left you feeling dizzy. He was unlike any partner you had, making sure to care for your needs more than he did for his. He never even asked that you kiss him anywhere else but his mouth. 

Mark releases your throat and lays on top of your sweaty body as you both climax one last time.

“You really aren’t leaving, are you?”

“I meant what I said. You’re mine.”

A brief moment of silence rests between the two of you as you massage his scalp.

“I mean, I can leave if you want me to..”

He looks up at you with round, doe eyes and your heart breaks.

“No—no..stay..” Sleep takes you over suddenly.

He watches your cute face and smiles. “Mind if I wake you up in the best way possible?” 

You chuckle with your eyes closed.

“And how will you do that?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see..”

He lays back down and falls asleep on your chest.

———

[The Next Morning]

It’s the afternoon of the next day when Mark wakes up before you do and finds his cock engulfed in your pussy still.

He swallows hard, immediately feeling himself grow when he sees your eyes closed as you pout your lips and breathe heavily.

“Y/n..” He whispers, but your eyes don’t open yet.

“Y/n..” He says once more, this time he picks himself up and cages you in between his arms as he holds himself up above your head.

He kisses your forehead. “Wake up, Princess.”

He then buries his head into the crook of your neck and fondles your breast. 

He couldn’t hold back much longer, but he wanted you to be awake first. He lays sloppy kisses onto your shoulder before biting it.

“Mmm..Mark..” You say drowsily.

And with the sound of your soft voice and the feeling of your delicate fingers on his waist, Mark begins to thrust into you.

Your eyes are still closed as he fucks you into consciousness, the post-dream haze combined with his kisses and long thrusts makes you feel light headed.

“How does it feel, baby?”

He moves in and out of you while panting.

You mumble something while enjoying the warmth of his pulsing body on yours. He presses his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles. 

“Mm..faster, baby.” you mumble as your heat grows, your eyes closed while you enjoy your realistic dream.

He then intertwines his fingers with yours, and moves into you faster. Within just a few minutes he cums hard as you shake around him.

And it’s not until he pulls out of you and flips onto his back that he realizes there’s another man in the room.

At the edge of the bed stands a tall handsome man with black hair. He stares sternly onto your body with his hands in the pockets of his suit jacket.

“Oh shit!” Mark is frightened and quickly drapes the blanket over you.

“Who the hell are you?” He asks.

You finally pry your eyes open and scratch your head.

“It’s me...y/n.”

“N-no no I mean..who is that and why is he just staring? Dude.. what the hell?!”

“What?” You rub your eyes and look up. And as your eyes focus you see that sure enough it was your Tuesday client, Jaehyun, staring intensely at you.

“Oh fuck..” You struggle to sit up straight in the bed. “Jaehyun..I’m so sorry, I overslept and-and..”

“Shhh..it’s okay, y/n..” His voice is sweet, but his face says the opposite.

“I see someone has gotten quite greedy with you..”

You turn to Mark, and it all comes back to you. He said he would stay over and you knew the risk you were taking, but you allowed him to anyway.

“Do you want me to push the emergency button?” Jaehyun asks smoothly.

“N-no! That won’t be necessary, I let him stay over actually..”

Your face becomes warm, it feels like you were caught by a parent with your boyfriend.

“I didn’t hear my phone go off with the alert saying you’d be coming over, I’m so sorry but he can leave and I’ll get cleaned up and we can start, just give me a few minutes—“

You start to get off the bed, but Jaehyun raises his hand.

“It’s okay, y/n..I know you see other men, that’s your job, isn’t it?” Jaehyun smirks.

He was one of those clients whose calm demeanor was difficult to read. He was intimidating and made you feel like you were up for terrible punishment at any moment. You never seemed to answer his questions to his satisfaction. In part to his recent divorce, he was rough, unforgiving, a stark contrast to Mark who just sat there awkwardly on the bed.

You nod slowly.

His gaze turns to Mark, his hands still in his pockets. “Was my slut good for you?”

“My?” Hold on..she doesn’t belong to you and no, she’s not a slut..”

Without moving his eyes, Jaehyun calls out to you. “Y/n...remove the blanket and open your legs for me..”

You immediately do as he says, but Mark stops you by holding your wrist. “Hey, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s okay, Mark. This is what I do, please don’t forget that.” You give him a small smile as you lift the blanket.

You bend your knees while widening your legs.

You can feel the cool air hit your moist entrance.

“Now look at her, Mark...look at how much cum is in her beautiful pussy..only a slut can look like that..”

“Oh fuck off..”

“No, YOU fuck off, you’re cutting into my time..or don’t..”

Jaehyun loosens his tie and takes his jacket off.

“As a matter of fact, let’s see how much prettier she looks when she’s filled up with both of us, what do you say Mark?”

Mark begins to panic and turns to you. 

“What..“

“Stay...I want to make you feel good too..” you say, knowing that Jaehyun’s proposal wasn’t really a question. He was going to find some way to make Mark stay, it was his way of punishing both him and you.

“Good girl..” Jaehyun zips his pants down, revealing his already hard member. He grew when he watched Mark fuck you out of your sleep. He wanted to do that badly, but understood long ago the rules for this agreement. One of them being “no overnight stays.” But Mark clearly didn’t respect this. Maybe he thought you were his, but surely he was wrong.

Jaehyun wanted you just as badly as he did, and he wouldn’t stop until you were his.

“On your stomach, sweetheart, show him what your mouth can do..”

“Yes, sir.” You’re still weak from the night before but do as you’re told.

“Y/n..you don’t have to..” Mark caresses your face with his thumb.

“I know..but I want to..”

“She wants to please us..isn’t that right, slut?” Jaehyun brings an arm under your stomach to bring your ass up towards him.

“Y-yes, sir.” You struggle to get out once you feel his cock rub against your thigh.

You start by wrapping your hand around Mark’s semi-flaccid length, you pump it up and down while twisting. He groans and sits up straight.

Jaehyun enters you from behind, gripping your hip tightly as he pushes into you hard.

You moan loudly as his long cock stretches you out without warning.

“Ahh..fuck.” You gasp.

He slaps your ass hard, you stumble slightly on your knees but Mark helps you stay up.

“Don't be like that, sweetheart, I see how wet you are. Now, open your fucking mouth.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You whimper then lick Mark’s tip.

“You’re just a slut with cum leaking out of you all the time, you’re always ready, aren’t you?”

You kiss Mark’s tip then answer Jaehyun. “Yes, sir.”

He hums and slaps your ass again.

He rubs his hand over the area to feel it become warm.

He then pulls back and watches his veiny cock glisten with cum.

Meanwhile, you take half of Mark’s length into your mouth and begin to suck, rubbing the tip on the inside of your cheek as you listen to him groan.

Jaehyun buries himself deep inside you again, pushing past your vibrating entrance and deep into your walls where he feels his cock be greeted with that ticklish spot.

You move your head lower and allow spit to coat Mark’s entire length.

“God..that feels good.” He moans as his head falls back.

You suck harder and continue to twist your hand around his base.

You hum to push him along with vibrations.

The sounds of Jaehyun’s hips slapping against your ass gets louder as he glides in faster.

“Her pussy gets wetter and wetter, tsk tsk what a slut.” 

He pushes harder, bending over your back so his abs rest against it. He grabs your hair and pushes your head down onto Mark faster.

You gag and tears escape your eyes as Mark’s length hits the back of your throat repeatedly.

You gag over and over, causing the two men to become even hotter than they were before.

“That’s it, sweetheart, cry for me..”

And you did cry as your throat became irritated and your pussy was being destroyed from the back, Jaehyun stretched it out more than he ever did, but you didn’t want to stop. 

You felt like you were being undone, like you wouldn’t be able to talk or walk after, but it didn’t matter, just as long as you pleased these two men.

Jaehyun’s hand finds your clit, slapping against it before rubbing circles onto it.

You moan loudly, sending a delicious vibration onto Mark. He whimpers and pulls out of your mouth, before watching spurts of white leave his tip and decorate your mouth and tongue.

Your mouth stays open as Jaehyun pulls your head back towards him now. Your breasts jump forward and back as Mark pants and watches you be brought to paradise by another man.

“Sir..I’m going to..”

Jaehyun grunts. “You don’t deserve to cum, but I’ll let you because you’re a needy slut.”

And with that, you quiver around Jaehyun, gripping the pillows and shaking uncontrollably.

Mark feels himself becomes aroused yet again from the sight.

Jaehyun pulls out quickly and sits against the headboard. He picks your body up and puts you over his lap, but doesn’t push his cock into you yet.

“Mark..I think you should return the favor.” Jaehyun says as he grabs the crook of your knees with each hand opens you up.

Mark gladly agrees and puts his head in between your legs once more. He licks up your essence and begins to eat you out, nuzzling his nose against your clit as you cry out. 

Jaehyun takes your chin and turns your fucked out face towards his while you struggle to close your legs. 

“S-sir..please, it’s too much.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “Nothing is too much for a whore like you..Mark loves your pussy, and so do I.”

He kisses your shoulder as a strand of hair dangles in his forehead.

He flicks your nipples with his fingers, watching as you fall apart in his arms.

Mark’s head moves from side to side as he licks your bud and pushes as hard as he can.

“Look at you..open wide for two men.”

Jaehyun whispers into your ear as you tremble. “We won’t stop until we’ve both put a baby in you...but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes..fuck..yes..sir.”

Soon, you’re cumming again and seeing stars.

Mark pulls away and wipes his mouth, watching as your wetness ruins the sheets below you.

“Do you think she can take us both?” Jaehyun still plays with your hard nipples.

Mark chuckles. “I’m not really into sharing..but we should find out.” He caresses your face again as your mouth falls open.

He puts his thumb into it, watching as you suck it hard with your teary eyes wide.

Jaehyun lifts you up slightly so he can enter you again.

You fall onto him easily but whimper as you try to overcome your sensitivity.

Jaehyun forces you open wide with his hands on your knees, your feet dig into the bed as you bounce up and down on him. His touch sends electricity through your veins. 

Mark holds his cock in his own hand, stroking it while watching you fall onto Jaehyun’s length.

Your beautiful entrance is soaked and he just wants to feel it too.

Jaehyun looks into Mark’s hungry eyes and lets out a low growl.

“Go on, Mark. Fuck her like the needy whore she is.”

Jaehyun scoots down on the bed more so he is laying under you. Mark lays down over you and guides his tip along your slit.

“Mark..” you cry out while Jaehyun thrusts into you from below.

“Are you sure?” He licks his lips.

You nod and take his length into your own hand. “Yes..”

You push him into you slowly as Jaehyun pauses his movement. Your head falls back as your pussy is stretched out once more. You’d never done this before, but then again, you’d never been with two men.

“Shit...” you close your eyes tightly as both men fill you up.

Jaehyun sits up, holding you in his arms as he guides you up and down both his and Mark’s cocks now. 

You’re so right and Mark is embarrassed to admit that he is just moments from climaxing already, the friction of two cocks against your tight silky walls driving all of you crazy.

“Mmm..sweetheart, you’re doing so well..”

Jaehyun whispers. His tone is gravelly and he is just moments away also, sweat pricking at his forehead as you glide onto him.

The sound of skin against skin and loud moans and groans fills the room, you wonder if your neighbors will make a complaint. But right now, in this moment of complete ecstasy, you could care less.

Jaehyun’s tip twitches, vibrating against Mark’s and hitting your g-spot. You all come undone within seconds and experience an orgasm that lasts for what feels like an eternity.

All three of you collapse onto the bed, and you and Jaehyun fall asleep soon after. You should’ve cleaned yourself up, but your body aches and feels weak after orgasming so many times.

After 20 minutes of just watching you sleep, Mark gets up from the bed and goes to your bathroom. He comes back with a washcloth and cleans you up gently while watching you snore lightly.

Jaehyun’s back is turned to you so he can’t see Mark taking care of you by cleaning your exhausted body.

Before he leaves, he drapes your blanket over you and kisses your forehead. He also leaves a bouquet of flowers that he bought from someone selling them just outside of your apartment building. He went back to your apartment just to leave them there for you when you woke up. But really, he just wanted one last chance to see your beautiful face as you slept peacefully.

You wake up hours later to find yourself alone once again. You hop out of bed but soon remember what happened based on the aching feeling in your legs.

You’re happy to see that you're clean however, the sticky feeling of cum no longer being all over you. Someone must’ve cleaned you up, you thought to yourself.

With a limp, you walk out to your kitchen and see take-out food on your counter with a note attached, beside it you also see a bouquet of flowers. 

“Thanks for today, see you next week. Love, J.”

Jaehyun left you food, flowers, and cleaned you up before he left. Maybe he did care for you after all. This is what you thought as you smiled to yourself.

[sirfrogsworth]

Some updates.

My good friend Brittany (who you may have seen modeling in my photos) was able to come over tonight. We cleaned my kitchen and bedroom. Changed my sheets. Vacuumed the floors.

All in all, we completed about 30% of what I need to do down here. But it was the most important and most difficult 30%.

It's a huge relief. The big thing is I can walk around safely in the dark without stubbing my toe or falling to my death. Though I have cool motion lights that come on as I walk through the basement.

The bulk of what I need to do yet is purging all of the crap I've accumulated over 25 years in this house and getting rid of anything I don't use anymore. It's... a lot. But if I can get rid of all that, I'd have so much more space for properly storing things and maybe I could fix up my photography studio into working order again. I was thinking of setting it up for just headshots.

My back hurts a lot. And I am going to be quite hungover tomorrow. But my new sheets are soft and comfy so I will just enjoy them and sleep.

My dad was at a rehab facility until Saturday but he started bleeding and so he had to go back to the hospital to figure that out. Two steps forward, two steps back. He's in stable condition but they are having a heck of a time figuring out the issue. I'm afraid this will delay him coming home quite a bit. I wish I could visit him, but it's just not possible for a number of reasons.

My mom and I are doing our best to manage the housely duties. It's difficult because we are both disabled and a man down. But we switched to a delivery pharmacy and we have our groceries brought to us by a wonderful friend I met on tumblr. Little by little we are figuring out solutions for the things we have trouble doing. We are making it work.

I think I am close to figuring out this health puzzle I've been struggling with. I switched back to my old doctor because he told me he was willing to come to the house for my visits. That has been huge. He figured out the issue right away. Apparently, because of my diabetes, my stomach doesn't evacuate fast enough. Too much stomach acid builds up and I get hella sick and extremely tired.

So I started medication to help with that and it has been working well. I still have flare-ups. And unfortunately, every time I do, it knocks me out of commission for 2 or 3 days. But I am having good days again. Days where I can actually accomplish things. A few months ago I feared I may never get back to this point. I thought good days may be impossible.

So, going forward I am going to have some bad days. The treatment isn't perfect. But as long as I have good ones too, I think I can manage. Also, the new treatment makes the bad days much less miserable. So I basically just lay in bed and rest and wait for them to pass. Much better than feeling like I have to puke for days, feeling like death, and sleeping 18 hours.

I won't lie. Things suck pretty bad right now. I am very worried about my dad. Finding silver linings is not easy. But I'm in a better place than I was 2 weeks ago. And maybe in 2 weeks things will be slightly better than now.

Just gotta keep moving forward.

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

The reason I'm convinced that Byler is real is not the huge amount of evidence actually, its because the way the creators and the fandom treat it is way different from the usual ship that ends un being queerbaiting. These ships are usually very popular in the fandom and the creators take advantage of it by constantly promoting this characters togueter and teasing the possibility of something happening only to end up not doing anything with it. However while Byler has a lot of fans Mileven is undeniably the most popular ship in the fandom, its not like the majority of the fandom want Byler to happen. Also, the Duffers have never really talked about Mike and Will in a romantic way so its not like they are using them to promote the possibility of a queer ship happening, all the people that believe that Byler will be canon are convinced solely because of the evidence not because of the creators making us feel this way. If anything they seem to only cater to mileven fans which seems like straighbaiting to me lmao

But seriously why will they make it seem like mileven is the main ship when so many evidence of Byler exists? That should tell people that something is going on and that they are planning to surprise us with the actual endgame (they are only going to surprise the heteros but still)

First, kudos for submitting this with your name attached. I know the temptation to do it anonymously is great, so I hope you meant to do it this way.

Second, I had to reread this a few times out of confusion. I kept misreading it as you being convinced the Byler is not real. In my defense, I am slightly hungover from drinking a lot of nog last night. Drink responsibly, kids. Well, not at all if you’re really kids, but even young adults are kids to me now.

I think I understand what you’re saying now. They’re not using the prospect of Mike and Will as a couple to promote the show. I do see them occasionally show some love to it, but, yeah, they aren’t promoting any type of ship war or anything. Thank whatever is up there for that, too, because such things are so reductive. This isn’t Twilight or something where the characters are so shallow that they’re defined by their relationships.

They aren’t really going to talk about Byler because even the characters haven’t really, yet. For the Duffers to explicitly acknowledge it would be to ruin the entire arc. We’re meant to be following these characters on this journey, never really sure where it’s going to end up. We’re getting more and more clues as we go, but they clearly don’t want us to know yet. Hell, they even went out of their way to show that Mike and El’s relationship didn’t really end on anything close to a clear note.

I can’t say I like the idea of straight baiting much more than queer baiting, though. I can see how it plays on people’s expectations, and I know the Duffers love to subvert such expectations, but it seems wrong somehow to do it intentionally. I’d be willing to say they’re letting it happen organically, because people are going to fall into heteronormative habits anyway, but they do seem to push Mike and El at times, or, at least, Netflix does. It seems sort of mean to build up the Mileven fans, only to pull the rug out from under them, but, I suppose, they didn���t really have to do much to build them up in the first place. I guess it really only does take a male and female lead to make a ship. 

I agree with your larger point, if my clouded mind is understanding it correctly, that, if they were really trying to bait us, they would be bringing up Mike and Will’s romantically-coded moments more and more. If there is any baiting, then I feel like it would be accidental. Though, to be fair, that would require a tremendous amount of ignorance and coincidence. Imagine nobody on that show seeing what we see and continuing to build up those elements if it wasn’t meant to be.

I do think we’ll see public acknowledgement of Mike and Will’s feelings once they become explicit on the show. There’s no way the Duffers are hacks to the point that they’d create a gay character without doing him justice. 

[nhstadler]

“Alright, Woodley?” James grinned down at me as though I had not just ploughed into him like every ridiculously clumsy teen film heroine. What was even worse, however, was the bright red smudge of glitter our impact had left right in the centre of his crisp white T-shirt. 

I had actually smeared gooey glitter on James Potter like a gross disco snail. 

Super.

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” I didn’t really think it through when I tried to wipe the sparkly slime trail off with my hands like a massive weirdo. I must have looked like I was groping him - very badly.

“Woodley, it’s fine.” James laughed as he grabbed my hands with his, pulling them down until he was holding them in place between us. And suddenly, just like that, we were sort of holding hands. “So, Katie was brilliant.”

Something behind my chest wriggled - like one of Professor Hagrid’s mutated giant grubs - though it couldn’t have been my heart; I was fairly certain that that had stopped a while ago.

“Yeah, she was.” I tried not to focus on it; on the gentle press of his fingers against my palms like this was a thing. Good Merlin, why didn’t he let go?

Somewhere behind him, a cliché group of Gryffindor Quidditch players kept shoving each other as they passed by, gazes flitting to us and Ryan Kastner, who was the laddest of all Quidditch lads, ruffled James’s hair in passing.

“Oi, mate!” James shouted over his shoulder, sounding exasperated, “straight to bed, yeah? All of you! I’ll know if you don’t.”

Kastner saluted him like a soldier and yelled, “aye aye, captain!” before winking very ostentatiously in my direction, but James only shook his head and turned back to me. I could have done it then: casually slide my hands out of his, pretend that I didn’t feel the unsettling tingling sensation when his thumb brushed against my skin. But I was useless - absolutely and utterly useless.

“Wow, Potter,” I said like I wasn’t losing my already limited cool over something he probably hadn’t even properly registered, “your team has to go to bed at 9:30 but you’re allowed to party?”

“What?” There was the briefest look of confusion on his face but then he grinned. “Are you taking me to a party, Woodley?” 

“I - no…” I frowned, half-distracted by the feeling of his fingers loosely interlacing with mine and the familiar dimple in his right cheek. “You’re having a party.”

He was still grinning, fingers weaving between my own - slowly, methodically - tugging me a little closer in the process. “I am?” 

My breath caught then - because this didn’t feel unintentional anymore - and I looked down to our entangled hands.  Holy Circe, I was not OK. How was this so easy for him? Like it was nothing. Whatever he thought he was doing, it had to end right there. I had to end it. 

“OK, stop taking the piss, Potter.” I took a step backwards, stumbling slightly as my heel caught on a discarded bottle rolling around the ground, but I refused to let this nerve wrecking thing go any further than this.

“I’m not! I swear.” He laughed, because, of course, he wasn’t losing his shit over vague and possibly coincidental hand-holding like an overly excited second year. “There’s no party. None that I know of, at least. I can’t risk having half the team hungover tomorrow.”

I stared at James, forgetting to panic for a second. So there really wasn’t some wild, secret party tonight. For some reason, I was stupidly relieved. “That’s unexpectedly mature of you.” 

“Unexpectedly? I’m mature as fuck.”

[drawlfoy]

the poisoning of draco malfoy

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x fem!reader

request: no haha

summary: y/n is known her her hangover cure and her passion for potion making. something goes slightly wrong when it comes to helping draco malfoy.

warnings: mentions of underage drinking, swearing, getting poisoned lmfao

a/n: hiyo i should be studying rn for one of my exams on monday but i just wanted to post this also big sorrry to anyone’s dm that i have yet to respond to i literally just popped in here to do this and hopefully i will crawl out of my study hole in a few days fjsdka’

word count: 1.2k

tags :) message or send in an ask to be tagged! @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell

“Draco!” Y/N hissed as he flipped through her entire Potions cabinet, his fingers brushing over every bottle. “Be careful!”

“Sheesh, have I ever been anything but careful?” he teased, shooting her a very self-satisfied look before continuing his search. “Why don’t you label yours?”

“It adds spice to the whole hangover curing process, don’t you think?” she joked, sitting on her bed as she watched him. “Do you need help?”

“No, I’m fine.” She tried to suppress a smile as his stubborn persona reared its head. “It’s pink, right?”

“Yeah,” she said absentmindedly. Her thoughts were somewhere other than potions--instead thinking of how he’d let her rest her head on his shoulder while they were all talking. It obviously meant nothing--they were just friends--but it still made her heart speed up when she thought about it. 

“Got it.” He shut her cabinet, brandishing a small pink bottle before tossing it into his pocket. “Thanks, Y/N. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Anytime,” she said. If she avoided looking him in the eyes for too long, she could pretend like she didn’t feel disappointment at the fact that his visit to her room would be so brief. When he’d asked the group for Wide-Eye potion, everyone had directed him to her and her signature brew (which was really just Wide-Eye brewed with the essence of mandrake root). She’d let her mind wander to the possibilities of what might happen when they were alone in her room--but that was all drunken fantasy speaking. Just because he let her touch his shoulder didn’t mean he was about to propose.

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” He sent her a grin that made her knees weak, turning to leave.

“See you.” 

With that, he was gone.

~

“Think you’re funny, huh?”

Draco’s voice cut through her own pounding head as she sat at the Ravenclaw table with her other equally hungover friends.

“Excuse me?” She whipped around to see him pink with frustration. “Did you even take it?”

“It doesn’t work,” he told her matter-of-factly. “I don’t know how you managed to con all your friends into thinking that you’re some sort of Potions master at the age of 17, but you’re not. I know you’re a fraud.”

“What are you talking about?” Y/N asked. “That potion works. I’ve used it myself.”

“Yeah, it’s magic,” said her fellow Ravenclaw friend, Rena, from across the table. “I actually stole a vial from your cabinet this morning. Never been better. Maybe you’re just ill.”

“Huh?” Y/N asked. “I gave the last vial to Draco last night. There’s no way you could’ve…” The color drained from her face. “Draco, do you still have the bottle from last night? Can you describe the potion to me?”

The realization seemed to dawn upon him as his eyes widened. “No. I threw it out. It just looked like a regular potions bottle. Pink, like you said. Oh, god, did you poison me?”

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” said Y/N, keeping her tone cavalier despite the fact that she was terrified. “There’s nothing...deadly...in there per se. But it’s not all totally legal for someone like me to have, so we can’t let Pomfrey know about it until I figure out what you took. Or Snape. Especially not Snape.” She shivered.

“So what do you suggest we do?” he drawled.

“Come with me. I’m going to try and figure out what’s missing.”

They didn’t talk much on their way to the Ravenclaw dorms apart from Y/N asking him about his symptoms. As far as she could tell, he was perfectly fine apart from a headache and sensitivity to sound and light--a classic hangover. 

She racked her brain, trying to think about what potion could be in her cabinet that wouldn’t cause ANY effects, even with the combination with alcohol. There was nothing. Quite literally nothing.

“Ok,” she told him as they stood in front of her cabinet. “I want you to tell me the general region where you grabbed it.”

Draco squinted at the bottles, running his fingers over them like he had last night. “To be honest, I hardly remember. It was a blur. Maybe this’ll teach you to put labels on them.”

“Normally I don’t have people ransacking my potions!” she snapped, throwing her hands in the air. “Are you sure you don’t feel anything different from a hangover? Like, at all?”

“No.” 

“Did you even take it?”

“Yes, I’m quite certain I drank a potion you gave to me this morning unless I completely imagined the entire thing,” he said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling and sitting down next to her. “How fucked am I? Should I go to the hospital wing?”

“Worst comes to worst we use a bezoar, but it doesn’t look like you’re in any danger.” She chewed her lip as she thought. “Hang on…you’re absolutely positive it was pink, right? Were there any other colors in it?” 

“Gold flecks.” 

She sprung up, digging through her cabinet and ignoring Draco’s questioning. “This doesn’t make any sense. I think you took my love potion.”

“No way,” he scoffed. “I think I would know if I was under the influence of a love potion.”

“I know. That’s why it doesn’t make any sense,” Y/N said. “But there’s only one potion in here that has gold flecks, and that’s a love potion. And it’s gone. Unless Rena took it--and I think everyone would’ve noticed that by now--it had to have been you.”

“But I feel normal!” he protested, running his hands through his hair. 

“Of course you feel normal,” she chastised. “The whole point of love potions is to convince you that what you’re feeling is natural--oh.”

It hit her. 

He gave her a weird look.

“Got anything you want to confess, Malfoy?” she asked, cocking her head and meeting his eyes. 

“What?”

“Do you know how love potions work?”

“Of course I know how love potions work,” he snapped, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not 12.”

“Care to explain?”

“You’re ridiculous,” he said, but he crossed his legs and continued in a monotone voice as he recited the lesson they’d both heard in 3rd year. “The recipient of a love potion falls into infatuation with the…”

His voice trailed off.

“With the person who gave it to them, yeah?” pushed Y/N. “So if you feel no different, and I was the person who gave it to you..”

Draco just stared.

“Draco, I brewed that potion, and I know that there’s nothing wrong with it,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “You feel normal because--”

“Because I normally feel infatuated with you, yeah,” he cut in, his tone bitter as he rolled his eyes again. “No need to spell it out for me.”

“This is horribly embarrassing for you, huh?” she teased, giving him a shove. “Why didn’t you just tell me? I’ve probably liked you for longer.”

“Well--what?” 

“Yeah,” she said, shrugging as she tucked her legs under her and scooted a little closer. “You don’t honestly think I’d give my last vial to some random classmate, do you?”

“Well, why didn’t you just tell me?” he teased. “I don’t let just anyone fall asleep on my shoulder.”

“I guess we’re both cowards, then,” said Y/N.

“And idiots.”

“I think that’s just you.”

final a/n: i didnt edit this and i wrote this in the middle of what was supposed to be a study session for me whoopsies fdjsa;k 

[marvelsbanner]

You come here often?

Prompt: Bruce x reader soulmate au where the first words your soulmate says to you appears on your body.

Pairing: Bruce Banner x reader 

Warnings: very slight angst (internal, self-doubt), like one curseword 

Word count: ~1400

A/N: Likes, reblogs, and feedback makes my heart happy <3 Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own! 

**i don’t own marvel** **not my gif** 

It wasn’t ideal, really. But it also could have been worse. He’d seen soulmate marks that were insults, curses- some really downright vile things, so it definitely could have been worse. That didn’t mean looking down to his wrist and seeing the words “That physically hurt me” didn’t fill his chest with anxiety. 

He’s hurt a lot of people in his lifetime. A walking mass of destruction with no limits, a time bomb of green that seemed to go off at all the wrong times. 

He couldn’t imagine getting the privilege of meeting his soulmate only to hurt him or her, to see the utter fear in their eyes that he’s seen in so many others. To cause them pain by his actions, to have to live with himself after it- what if it was bad? What if those were the last words they would speak not only to him, but to anyone at all?

The thought of it alone kept him up some nights- a faceless body puppeteering his dreams, causing him to wake up sweaty and breathless and a little green around the edges.

He usually kept a wristwatch over the words, it wasn’t uncommon for people to keep their marks private. Less likely that someone twisted would try to fake a meeting. The only person he had shown was Tony, who tried his best to calm his anxieties (His own wrist had Pepper’s iconic “Wow, you really are an asshole”  after coming for an interview and finding him half naked and hungover in his office. They had been happily married for two years now) 

So, he tried not to worry- he really did, but every time he would take his watch off to sleep or shower the harsh black words on his wrist made his head spin with the possibilities of what was to come. 

-

He hated parties. Didn’t matter the occasion. Being in a loud, crowded room with warm bodies and fake smiles dripping with complementary liquor- it made him and the other guy incredible antsy. 

Despite knowing how much Bruce despised parties, and the threat that he was putting everyone in attendance in, Tony managed to drag him to nearly every single event he hosted. 

This time it was a charity event, Stark Enterprise making some big donation to a charity to clean up a little of the bad publicity and backlash the last Avengers battle had created. 

That being so, alongside his teammates was a pool of unfamiliar faces. He nursed his drink and surveyed the room, heart pounding as his feet did an antsy shuffle. 

Steve and Bucky were playing pool against Sam and Natasha, Thor and Rhodey were trading stories with important looking men in crisp suits, Pepper was making small talk with some of the women from the charity board, and Tony was no where to be found; ultimately, Bruce was on his own. 

Logically, he knew that, and yet he had the feeling that he wasn’t. He felt a pair of eyes on him from the side, and turned to see a pretty woman sitting at the bar, nursing a drink and stealing a glance at him. 

She gave a polite smile before ducking her head and turning away, clearly not expecting to have been caught. Or- maybe she had wanted to be caught? He wasn’t very good with these kinds of things. 

“That’s Y/N Y/L/N, she works on the head committee of the charity.” Tony says, appearing seemingly out of nowhere and making Bruce nearly spill his drink. “Jesus Tony- don’t sneak up on me like that,” he yelped, running his hands through his hair and trying to calm his raising pulse. Tony simply ignored him and continued speaking.

“Spoken with her a few times- super nice, uses big words I don’t understand. Right up your ally,” he said with a wink. “Go talk to her” he ordered, giving him a slight shove in her direction. 

“No- no! Tony, I don’t.. I don’t think that’s a good idea,” He fought, before Tony interrupted him- “Uh uh, no if ands or buts mister, I’m tired of seeing you sulking at these things.  She’s smart. She’s pretty. You’re smart. You look half way decent cleaned up, go talk to her.” and with a final shove from Tony he decided to give in, blowing out a sigh and downing the rest of his drink. 

He tried to calm his heart rate as ran his fingers through his unruly hair, wishing he had put a little more effort into getting ready today. He slowly made his way to stand by the bar where the woman was sitting, giving her a shy smile as she turned to acknowledge his presence. 

Panic. Panic. Panic. “So, uh, you come here often?” He stuttered out, immediately cringing and wishing he was still in his bed- or curled up in a ditch and dead, whichever would come quicker. God, he couldn’t believe he just said that!

She snorted into her drink, nose scrunching into a cringe and she shook her head at his awful line,

“That physically hurt me. Ouch, oh god you really need to work on your flirting skills, if that’s what that even was.” She started laughing before turning her head to meet his stunned gaze, his jaw practically on the floor.

“You’ll catch flies like that” she chuckles nervously. 

“S-sorry, I just, can you say that again?” He stutters out. 

“You’ll catch flies..?” 

“No no, before that. You- you said I hurt you.” 

“Oh, I meant- I didn’t mean- its just a saying,” she tries to explain before he cuts her off.

“No no, I get that, I just..” He quickly undoes his watch and turns over his wrist, showing the dark black words matching her exact phrasing. Her own jaw drops this time, eyes going wide before her mouth snaps shut and she gives him the smallest smile. She turns over her own wrist, the words reading “So, you come here often?” and he laughs, he laughs with a big dopey smile on his face- almost afraid to believe this could actually be happening.

“You’re not the first guy to say that to me, but you’re the only guy who’s had my words in return” She says with a smile. 

“God I- I’m so sorry you had to go for so many years with that god awful pickup line on your wrist” he laughs. 

“No I’m sorry you had to walk around with my words, I’m sure you’ve gotten some weird looks for that one,” she replies. He gives her an almost sad smile, “I was the only one who seemed to be concerned”

Her face slightly falls before she composes it, holding out her hand for him to shake, “Y/N” she introduces herself. 

“Bruce” he replies with a small smile. 

“So, do you come here often?” She says with a smirk. 

He gives a chuckle, “Yeah, yeah actually. I live right upstairs and am usually forced to attend these things by our generous host.” he says with a chuckle.

“You live in the tower? What are you, an avenger?” She jokes, clearly teasing before his face answered the question for him. “Oh shit, you’re actually an avenger. Are you the one in the star spangled spandex or the big green one?” She teases, but she could see his shoulders tense. 

“Yeah, that would be me. The big ugly green one” 

She frowns at his choice of words and tone, “Hey, I never said ugly. I always thought that guy was ruggedly handsome in a strange, green sort of way” 

He puffs out a breath and shakes his head. 

“What?” She asks, shoving his shoulder with her own. 

“I uh, I have a kind of.. complicated life. I was honestly expecting you to run at the first mention of the big guy,” He took a deep breath before continuing, “I uh, I was always worried that the first words spoken to me by my soulmate would be after he had hurt them somehow.” He finally raised his head to meet her eyes, expecting hesitancy or fear- and yet her eyes were free from judgment. 

“Well, they weren’t. Just tipsy teasing. And I’m not planning on running yet, but we did just meet. Buy me a drink and maybe I’ll change my mind afterwards” she said with a wink, and all he could do was give her a dopey smile in return. There she was, this beautiful, sharp-witted girl that he was so worried he would scare off, subtly doing her best to make sure he was at ease. 

“Yeah, yeah I’ll buy you a drink. On one condition.” He said to her.

“And what is that?” She asked, quirking one brow. 

“Go to dinner with me tonight.” He said smoothly. 

Her lips quirked into a small smile, “I’ll be there” 

He smiled and signaled for the bartender to fill up their glasses as he slid into the seat next to her, brushing his shoulder against hers with a playful smile. 

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

IUI - The Way I Love You

bear with me here folks

I know the Idiots are usually soft af. but my lovely spouse/fiance/soon-to-be-fiance and beta @dani-dandelino hit me with an idea and I added a dash handful of angst bc i couldn’t help it

Warnings: feelings of inadequacy, fear of breakup (no actual breakup I promise), miscommunication, drunk af Geralt, past shitty relationships, happy ending tho I promise, there’s tears but they’re happy I swear.

______________________________________

Geralt only ever got sloppy drunk when Jaskier was the DD. It wasn’t necessarily that he didn’t trust anyone else, it was that he didn’t trust his drunk boyfriend not to goad him into something stupid. 

The last time they’d both gotten fucked up outside of their apartment they woke up with three traffic cones and a “Speed Hump” sign in their living room. When they asked Triss what happened she sent them a video of them giggling as they tried to fit the sign into her trunk.

After hanging the sign in their apartment, they decided it may be best to take turns. 

This particular instance, they’d dropped Triss and Yen off and were on their way home, Geralt’s head lolling against the window as he fought to stay awake. 

“I’m not carrying your perky ass upstairs,” Jaskier laughed, snapping his fingers near Geralt’s ear. 

Geralt grumbled but sat up straight and leaned into Jaskier’s outstretched hand, “Radio.”

Affectionately rolling his eyes, Jaskier pulled his hand away and flipped on the radio. Geralt immediately gasped and started singing along off key and slurred. The first time Jaskier heard Geralt scream along to Taylor Swift he’d been shocked, if extremely endeared. 

“BUT I MISS SCREAMIN’ AND FIGHTIN AND KISSIN IN THE RAIN! IT’S TWO AM AND I’M CURSIN’ YOUR NAME! SO IN LOVE THAT WE ACTED INSANE, AND THAT’S THE WAY I LOVED YOUUUUUUUUU!”

Jaskier turned the volume down to a reasonable level when Geralt cranked it so loud his ears might start ringing. He rolled his eyes when Geralt started singing it to him, taking the shortcut home and trying to ignore the little pit forming in his stomach. 

When the song ended Geralt turned the radio down and picked up his hand not gripping the steering wheel, “Jask?”

“Mhm?”

Even in the car, Geralt glanced around conspiratorially before whispering, “I have a secret.”

Fear flared in Jaskier’s chest but he took a deep, calming breath, reminding himself who he was talking to. His boyfriend thought secrets were fun. Mostly because Geralt’s version of a secret was keeping what he made for dinner a surprise until Jaskier got home. He’d even felt guilty not telling Jaskier he was seeing a therapist when they’d started dating. For all his gruff exterior and suspicion, Geralt really was an open book with those he loved and trusted. Jaskier had a very different idea of what secrets in a relationship meant. 

“What’s that, love?” 

Geralt giggled as he traced the edges of a magnolia on the back of Jaskier’s wrist, “That is the way I love you.”

Luckily for Jaskier’s car, they were rolling up to a stop sign. He had time to loose his breath for a moment and fight back the initial feeling of shame and anger with himself before he pulled his hand away and gripped the steering wheel as he punched the gas. 

Through gritted teeth, he said the gentlest thing he could think of, “We don’t kiss in the rain.”

Geralt frowned, almost pouted at him, “I still love you.”

A part of Jaskier wanted to scream at Geralt, another part wanted to pull over and make him walk home, thankfully the loudest part reminded him the idiot was just drunk. He didn’t know what he was saying and he thought he was being sweet. There was also a good possibility he would cry himself to sleep in the passenger seat if Jaskier yelled at him and last time he tried to carry Geralt to bed his back hurt for a week. 

“I love you too,” Jaskier sighed as he pulled into their parking spot. 

He didn’t sleep well that night. Not because his sweaty, smelly, and fidgety boyfriend clung to him in his sleep, but because he couldn’t stop thinking about the ride home. 

Jaskier had lived in relationships like that for most of his adult life. Hell, even in his teens. They were nothing but all consuming passion with no connection to support it and left both parties jaded and lost. When he left his mentor he’d sat in Yen’s chair for hours and hours, until his arm had gone numb, and the only thing he could think was ‘never again’. 

And now Geralt thought he was being cute. The ridiculously meticulous and serious man was only ever sappy when he got drunk and now instead of reveling in it like he’d like, Jaskier was staring at the clock on his nightstand calculating how exhausted he’d be in the morning as the minutes ticked by. 

Turns out, he was at least in the land of the living by the time Geralt shuffled into the kitchen with his hands in his hair and a pained expression. 

“Feel like shit.”

Jaskier hummed in agreement as he sipped his morning tea and shifted in his seat to see better out the window. 

After popping a few anti-inflammatories and nibbling on a cracker before giving up on food, Geralt lumbered up behind Jaskier and draped his arms over his shoulders, “What’s wrong?”

“S’nothing. I’m just being… touchy.”

Geralt pressed a light kiss over the hellebore tattoo on Jaskier’s neck, “I doubt it.”

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as Jaskier laid his hand over Geralt’s arm across his chest, “I don’t want to lose this.”

“Why…? What makes you think you would?” Geralt was a little slower on the draw hungover, but he knelt next to Jaskier’s chair and rested a hand on his knee as he waited for a response. He only ever looked so worried when Roach had an abscess and it broke Jaskier’s heart. He didn’t want to say it and ruin everything. 

After a deep breath in, he mumbled out his answer, “Do you really love me like that song?”

“What song?” Geralt breathed, his thumb brushing back and forth over Jaskier’s knee.

“The uh, Way I Loved You one.”

Geralt searched his face for a beat, the crease between his eyebrows only deepening, “Of course I do.”

“Fuck,” Jaskier breathed, biting his lip to keep it from wobbling as he forced all the air from his lungs in the hopes it would do something to stop the tears from falling. When it was clear he would lose the battle he leaned forward with his elbows on the table, hiding his face in his hands.

“You… don’t want me to?” Geralt sounded close to tears himself, but he didn’t take his hand off Jaskier’s thigh. 

“No- yes! No?” Jaskier sniffed and wiped at his face but didn’t lean back to look at Geralt, “I- Geralt I can’t just fill a hollow relationship with lust. We ha- I thought we had more? But if you want the- the fights and the hate fucking- I don’t- Geralt I don’t want that. Not with anyone but not with you. Ne-”

“Hey, hey,” Geralt tugged at Jaskier’s arm, gathering him to his chest when the brunette melted into sobs, “I don’t want that. That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry I let you think that.” He cradled Jaskier’s head to his shoulder, pressing kisses into his hair between softly spoken apologies and reassurances. They stayed there until Jaskier’s tea went cold and his sobs were closer to little gasps. 

Eventually, Jaskier lifted his head and met Geralt’s eyes, “H-how do you love me?”

Geralt licked his lips, his voice barely above a whisper, “Not- It’s not hollow.”

Jaskier squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to Geralt’s, “Please?”

One of Geralt’s hands came up to cup Jaskier’s cheek as he took a deep breath, “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you… I never wanted to be romantic with anyone until you. You… You make me feel… safe. I’m never bored of you or numb or sick of you. This is the first relationship I’ve had where I bother to fight, Jask. I love you so much it makes me do things I never thought to do and I’m glad and I never want to change anything about us. Never.” 

A shiver ran down Jaskier’s spine as relief flooded his whole body. His throat ached from crying and his shoulders were sore from holding all that tension in a way they hadn’t for years, but he’d never felt so good. Geralt loved him. Him. Not some tumultuous relationship or the sex or the drama of it all. Someone finally loved him for him. 

It hadn’t really hit Jaskier till then. They’d said ‘I love you’, sure, but he hadn’t really believed Geralt, just like he’d stopped believing the string of selfish lovers before him. 

“Thank Mellitelle,” Jaskier laughed, just on this side of hysterical as he tightened his grip around Geralt’s shoulders, “I fucking love how boring we are. And you. Fuck I really really do love you.”

“Even when I smell like my regulars?” Geralt teased, intentionally huffing a little extra and dosing Jaskier in his horrendous hangover morning breath.

Jaskier wrinkled his nose but smiled and kissed him anyway, “Of course.”

“Mhh,” Geralt pulled away for a moment, brushing his thumb over Jaskier’s crows feet in a silent request for him to open his eyes, “Can we go back to bed?”

“The crying does it for you, huh?” Jaskier chuckled, his voice was still weak but his laugh was genuine.

“I’m so dizzy, Jask,” squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head ever so slightly, Geralt plopped back onto his heels. If Jaskier hadn’t witnessed just how much he drank he’d say he was lying, but Jaskier was truly surprised he’d even climbed out of bed this morning.

“Mkay, up. Back to bed then.”

They settled under the blankets and tangled themselves back together. Geralt hummed, closing his eyes and squeezing Jaskier a little tighter.

New, happier tears threatened at the corners of his eyes but he pushed them down, opting to trace the corner of Geralt’s buttercup tattoo peeking out of his shirt, “I love you.”

Geralt took a deep breath in before he sighed out a rumbling, “I know.”

“No, Geralt. Really,” Jaskier laid his hand over the yellow and green ink, “I’ve said these words more times than I can count but I don’t think I ever really understood them until you.”

“Jaski-”

“I love you,” Jaskier’s interruption was far smaller and far more fragile than he had intended. His words just continued to spill out, “You’re steady and calm and I’ve never had that. I don’t know what it’s supposed to be like and I’m constantly scared I’m gonna fuck it up…”

Comforting fingers ran through his hair as Geralt murmured his reply, “Me too,” Jaskier just squeezed his shoulder in a bit of solidarity and a bit of selfish comfort, “But I think we’re doing alright…”

“Why’s that?”

“Well,” Geralt started, shifting so he was practically engulfing Jaskier, “we both still love each other, and...” his boyfriend pinched him when he trailed off, pretending to fall asleep in a way that always mad Jaskier giggle, “Ow- and you use the hooks by the front door.” 

“I do, don’t I?” Jaskier sniffled, “And you used your words.”

“I’d use all the words for you.”

“All of them?”

Geralt really was drifting away this time, his words coming slowly as his arms relaxed and Jaskier felt their full weight over him, “Not well, but I would...” 

[wizkiddx]

Blurb req- Tom and the reader on a private jet hungover? just pure fluff?

fluffy requests are well and truly open ( bcos I adored writing this ahah) and let me know what u think , I am deff not a writer so any feedback or tips would be v appreciated :))

summary: tomhollandxactress!reader - a wrap party followed by an early morning flight and a grumpy Harry, what could possibly go wrong?

warning: mentions of alcohol and sickness

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

The remorse. The regret. It only made the pounding in your head even worse. Why those two 1.5 litre bottle of Bacardi had been brought out was beyond you. Why the you six of you had then decided to empty said bottle was even more of a mystery. It wasn’t like any of you had needed it, you’d all been more than ‘merry’ prior to the cheap rum and coke. 

Hence the state of you, Tom and Harry as well as your manager Davey and Tom’s team of Rachel and Andrew. All having made very little effort with your appearance - joggers and hoodies all round, with you and Rachel also sporting sunglasses because you were simply smarter than the boys. Thankfully, this wasn’t a big trip that fans knew about, this was you and Tom moving location under cover  - the studios didnt want anybody to know that either of you made a feature in this film, so everything was under the cover of darkness. Which to be honest you were not complaining about. However, you were complaining about the fact the flight had been scheduled to leave at 7 am the night after your wrap party though.

The two of you had just wrapped your most recent and most ambitious movie to date - hence the massive celebrations last night for just surviving and getting it done. It had been the most intense 3 months of your life, there had been times you’d cry for hours on end, times you just wanted to quit fully knowing you’d never be hired again for leaving a multimillion dollar company in the lurch.But you all, somehow, had survived. So celebrations were in order of course but perhaps not as far as you all managed last night?

Your whole convey appeared to have travelled to the airfield in absolute silence, no one particularly fancied hearing anyone else’s voice- which to be honest seemed quite fair. You’d ridden in a car with Tom and Harry, with you resting your head on Tom’s broad shoulder - which had obviously made Harry gag, rolling his eyes. Bless Harry, really he was the only reason you and Tom had got together, after getting sick of the mutual pining he’d been forced to live with during the previous 2 projects you’d worked on together. But now, having had to put up with the two of you being so ridiculously loved up for the past 3 months - understandably a bit of distance from you and his brother was overdue. 

One of the flight attendants busied themselves loading your luggage, whilst the pilot asked you and Tom for a photo. Of course, you weren’t going to say no however you did have to cringe at how rough you both looked. His teenage daughter certainly would be less excited to see that her Dad hadn’t met Tom Holland and Y/n Y/l/n. Instead he’d met the zombified, undead and rougher frauds. Still you smiled as much as you could, wincing when you removed the glasses and the early morning sun pierced your restricted pupils. God it wasn’t your day. 

The guy didn’t seem to mind though, excitedly hurrying off onto the plane to settle in the rest of you - leaving just you and Tom outside on the tarmac. 

“Poor guy, we look like shit.” You murmured while taking a step closer to lean slightly into his side. 

“Speak for yourself love.’Tom snickered into the top of your head, after pulling you completely into his chest. This wasn’t normally allowed, your relationship still wasn’t public and both of you intended on keeping it private for as long as possible. But you were in an otherwise empty field in the middle of nowhere (somewhere in Georgia) before 8 am. It was actually quite nice to feel your boyfriends arms round you in the outside world, especially when you felt this shit. After a few moments you pulled away, arching back at Tom’s pouty face as you motioned it was time to get on the plane. 

“’S too late you know.” Your brows furrowed at his half formed sentence, facial expression only demanding him to explain more. “They all have already taken the good seats… Harry basically sprinted on so he can hog the bed thing.” In response it was your turn to pout, groaning as you fell back into his chest again. Yes, this was a complete first world issue, a private jet paid completely by your bosses was not something a lot would moan about. Truly you were grateful for everything you had in life, but with the worst hangover of your life when the opportunity of lying down for 6 hours instead of being stuck in a chair had manifested itself… well of course you felt robbed by your almost brother Harry. 

Chuckling at your reaction, he gave you an extra squeeze before leading the both of you up the stairs to the cabin. Sure enough Harry had completely and totally claimed the longer couch at the far end of the plane, lying on his stomach with his face hidden in the crook of his elbow. Rolling your eyes at the predictable situation, you didn’t miss Davey laughing at your sorry state - nmaking you throw daggers at him in your eyes. 

Davey was your second father, the relationship between the two of you far transcended any professional working one. Which is why the two of you acting like this was very much a norm and not rude at all. He had also got the next best seat in the corner with the most leg room which he clearly loved to show off. 

Unsurprisingly then you and Tom ended up squashed into the corner with your legs crumpled up together in the small space floor space. The brunette opposite you didn’t seem to mind so much but that was because he had an adaptational advantage. He could sleep anywhere and everywhere , whenever he wanted. On set if he was tired? Just take a ten minute power nap on the floor. Bored of a long car journey? Just conk out against the window. It absolutely infuriated you, as no matter how hard and how exhausted you were - it was rare you could get any further than a light doze. Even before the two go you got together, having a best mate that could skip all the boring bits and was immune to jet lag… you can see how that makes you want to punch him square in the face.

After a short safety talk from the pilot and flight attendant, the plane whirred into life and you were up in the air. Although in your current state, it would be reasonable to assume the beauty of flying had somewhat rubbed off - you were certain it never would. No matter how many flights you took across country ,and in fact continents, for work; you’d never get sick of watching the view below you. It was perfect and breathtaking and took your mind off the pounding in the back of your head for the first 20 minutes.

Until the need for sleep took over as either you need to be unconcious or you were going to vomit - which you really didn’t want to do at 40,000 feet in a tin box. Trying to rearrange your limbs to get comfier you accidentally knocked Tom’s leg rather forcefully, causing him to jump half out his seat, heavy eyes blinking quickly as he tried to get his baring as to what was attacking him - quickly answered by your guilty look. 

“You okay love?” His voice was slurred, sounding almost sleep drunk - but perhaps was just actually still a little drunk. You’d only headed to bead last night at 4 am and had to be up at 6 - which isnt very long for your poor kidneys to try and process the stupid amount of alcohol you’d both  happily been chugging the night before.

“Feel shitty and cant sleep.” You weren’t in the mood to white lie - honestly some sympathy from your beautiful boyfriend seemed like a dream at the moment. Tom’s idea was better though.

“C’mere then.” His arms outstretched, you immediately jumped into his lap - the two of you shifting about to get comfortable till you were sat side on to him, your bum and back leaning against the arm rest of the chair with your legs going over his thighs and pressing against the wall of the plane. Pulling you closer to his chest, Tom took a deep breath as he pressed his chin against the crown of your head; your face now nested into his chest. 

Nothing needed to be said as the two of you melted into each others bodies, the slow and deepening breathing enough to prove to each other you were both incredibly contented in that moment. More than that you felt safe- you’d admitted to Tom some weeks ago that you had never ever slept better than when he was beside you. Yeh it was cringey but sometimes that’s allowed right? 

… well not to Harry. Because as the plane was about to begin it’s descent, the pilot had tasked Harry (who had slept off the worst of the hangover and had spent the last 30 minutes of the flight scoffing at how adorable the two of you looked fast asleep together) - even after Rach had scalded him and had taken a photo of the two of you on her phone. 

Causing Harry to ,ever subtly, wake the two of you up by throwing his half empty water bottle over your heads. 

Safe to say, Harry very nearly didn’t leave that jet alive.

[vanderlustwords]

Under the Sheets

(not my gif)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Prompt: 9) There’s only one bed, and we sleep as far away as possible from each other but wake up cuddling

Requester: Anonymous 

Summary: Bucky spends more time out of his dorm than in it with how much his roommate amorously makes love to his girlfriend. Luckily, his cute across-the-hall neighbor is generous about lending her place to him. Bucky’s unsure if he wants to hug or kiss his roommate for putting him in the situation he is in now. 

Note: Thank you for sending this in! :) This trope is the OG.

Count: 3948

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

You would say that every meeting you've had with James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes is always a series of unfortunate events. 

The first time was when you were locked outside of your dorm room because you're an idiot without a roommate. Since it wasn't your first incident, you were very reluctant to call the campus security guard to let you in. You're pretty sure he hates you. 

Luckily, across the hall, you had some new neighbors. 

"You must be James-"

"Bucky, please," he offers you an easy, charming smile. 

"Bucky, nice to meet you," you smiled back.

You had been standing outside your door for quite sometime when Bucky came back, explaining how Steve was out with his girlfriend. As it would be, Bucky knew how to pick a locked door open. You only got a laugh when you asked him about such questionable skills he had.

The next time you met Bucky was when you spilled your grocery bags all over the floor before entering into your building. Bucky seemed to just arrive home from his afternoon classes. 

"This is so embarrassing," you muttered with flushed cheeks as Bucky helped you pick everything up.

"Well, no use crying over spilled milk."

"I haven't bought milk," you joked, causing him to laugh. Bucky had helped you carry your groceries in.

"No roommate?" He looked around the place, seeing how the extra room you had turned into a study room.

"Nope! Well, I mean, I had one earlier in the year, but she moved out after 3 months to transfer to another university. They didn't assign me with anyone else." 

"Lucky," Bucky sighed.

"Roommate problems?" You raised your brow. You had come to know that Bucky and Steve have been friends since they were in diapers, now seemingly grown and going to university together too. 

It seemed hard to believe the two friends would not like rooming together.

"Not problems, per se," Bucky licked his lips. "Just Steve likes to bring Peggy over a lot, and she stays the night often. I guess her roommate is kind of a psychopath."

You nodded slowly and understandingly. It was probably difficult to get studying done or sleep with hearing your roommate fuck at night.

"Well," you offer him a nervous smile, "you are always welcome here if you need the space to study."

"Thanks, doll."

It seems after that, Bucky took your offer quite seriously. Over the next few weeks, he would show up to your place in the evening needing some quiet to work on his papers and upcoming tests.

You certainly didn't mind the company, sometimes having the place to yourself could be a little lonely when everyone else had their roommates to hang out with. 

It was almost kind of nice—an easy friendship brewing between the two of you. 

The thought of dating never really crossed your mind because you weren't ignorant of the fact that Bucky was wildly popular across campus. Steve was too, but Peggy Carter was also wildly popular herself, making them a dream couple. 

So, all sorts of people were trying to put themselves on Bucky's radar.

And, well, you were just you. 

You were just flittering through your university life. You had friends, of course, game nights were on Friday, and went out on the occasional weekend to drink. 

Really, the only time you got to spend time with Bucky was within your dorm building. 

"I brought takeout!" Bucky holds up thick bags with food. You can smell the contents right away and smile.

"Thai food?" You smile, hopeful, in case you're somehow wrong.

Bucky grins at you as you let him in. He puts the bags on the counter, and you help him take the things out.

"Yeah, I saw you staring at their building while I was on the way to class the other day," he laughs. "How long did you stand there?"

You felt your cheeks warm at being caught by someone.

"Only ten minutes," you mumble. 

Bucky licks his tongue against his bottom lip, smiling at you as he takes a seat.

You moan, almost a little inappropriately when you take your first bite.

"God, it's been way too long," you sigh happily as you munch away.

Bucky laughs, "For someone who likes Thai food so much, I don't see you eat it too often."

You shrug. "Thai food is one of those things where there's a lot of dishes that are shared. My friends, unfortunately, don't share my love for Thai food."

"Blasphemous!" Bucky gasps dramatically and jokingly, but you follow along with a firm nod.

"That's what I've been saying!"

Bucky grins. "Alright, how about your boyfriend?"

You roll your head over to Bucky with a look. "I think as often as you spend here, you should know by now I don't have one."

"Just checking," Bucky shrugs. "Any particular reason why?"

You quirk your brow at him. "Well, I'll tell you if you tell me why you haven't got a girl. Lord knows you don't have a shortage of options."

Bucky chuckles as he looks at you, scooping more food into your mouth. His eyes soften for just a moment.

"Just waiting on the right girl is all," he says, looking back at his food when you look up at him.

"Ah, then we're two peas in a pod," you smile, "I'm also waiting for the right person, and unfortunately, the only guys on my roster right now are frat boys."

You scrunch your face a little, and Bucky lets out a burst of laughter at your expression.

"Any particular reason for that?" He asks.

"One of my friends is in a sorority," you sigh. "She thinks she can get me to join if she shoves hot guys my way. I'm actually going to get dragged to a party on Saturday."

"Well," Bucky licks his lip, "is it working?"

"Not even in the slightest," you smirk.

Bucky grins. 

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

"I don't want to study anymore, my brain is melting," Bucky groans as he leans back against your couch with his head facing the ceiling.

His eyes shut as he tries to make all the words disappear from his head, and you laugh at him.

"It's only been two hours," you point out. "Don't you have a huge test on Saturday afternoon?"

"I can't," Bucky moans dramatically. "I can't anymore. I should accept my inevitable doom and fail."

You roll your eyes with a smile as you lean forward and close his books. "Alright, drama queen. I think you just need a break. Why don't we just put on a movie?"

"Annnnd, now my brain is unmelting," Bucky sits up with an excited twinkle in his eye. 

You end up watching three movies, but by the third movie, you fall asleep. 

Bucky sits there, eyes drifting to you with ease as the movie plays on.

You snored a little, causing him to smile involuntarily. 

Alright, Bucky admits, you were just beyond adorable to him. 

But finding the right person also takes time.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

Friday night is game night. 

Your friends get much too rowdy as you try to quiet them down, knowing Bucky is probably trying to study across the hall. 

One of your friends drinks way too much and ends up passing out on the couch, dead to the world. 

"Alright, let's call it a night," you yawn as you stand up and stretch. It's well past 1 AM as your friends get up.

"Should we wake him?" One of your friends asks.

"Nah, just leave him. I don't even know if he will wake up," you and your friends share a quick laugh as they leave your building.

"Don't forget we have the party tomorrow," your friend, Mary Jane, pulls you in for a hug.

"Right," you drawl, "Another attempt to find me a gross, frat boyfriend?"

"I mean, show me another guy on your roster, and I won't try to drag you to these parties," Mary Jane laughs.

You made some noise of agreement as you pat her back before she lets go, walking to the door and giving you a little wave before leaving. 

You stretch again before you go to your closet to bring out an extra blanket and set it over your friend. You grab a glass of water and some Advil because you know that poor sucker will feel it tomorrow.

You look in the fridge and groan when you see you've run out of eggs. Typically, you wouldn't mind getting them in the morning, but your friend was someone who needed food immediately when they were hungover. You weren't willing to wake up any earlier to get the eggs in the morning, so you closed the fridge and got ready to head to the 24-hour convenience store down the block. 

You were casually scrolling through your phone as you left your apartment. When you opened the door, you could hear some...sounds from Bucky's apartment, and you felt instant pity for the man. You were ready to leave the building when a figure sitting in the lobby scared the shit out of you.

"Holy fuc--Bucky?"

Bucky looked up with slightly bleary eyes, and it looks like he was still studying as he had his textbook in his lap along with his notebook.

"Oh, what are you doing down here?" He asked, sounding rather tired. 

"What are you doing down here?" You retorted. "It's almost 2 AM. Don't you have a huge test tomorrow?"

"...Steve and Peggy had a fight..." Bucky pressed his lips together, and you don't need to ask further that the noises you heard earlier were them making up.

You wheedle from foot to foot while you look at Bucky. He looks exhausted, and you feel awful he's been sitting out here for God knows how long.

"How long were you out here for?"

"I don't know," Bucky shrugs, "Couple hours?"

You sigh. "Why didn't you just let me know. You could've come over."

"It was game night for you, wasn't it?" Bucky blinks because he was pretty sure he saw your sorority friend leave about 10 minutes ago. 

You let out a pretty deep sigh, holding your hand out in front of him.

He scrunches his brows.

"C'mon," you wiggle your fingers, "come get some eggs with me, and you can crash at my place tonight."

Bucky gives you a light grin as he closes his textbook and grabs your hand as you put very little effort into pulling him up. 

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

There's a body.

In the place where Bucky thought he was going to sleep. 

You don't seem to pay any mind to it as you put the eggs and orange juice away in the fridge.

Bucky is thinking a mile a minute.

The couch was taken, and the extra room you had was turned into a study room. 

Was he supposed to sleep on the carpet? Were you going to give him a sleeping bag?

"Hey," Bucky grabs your attention, "Where should I crash?"

You shut the fridge door, running your hand through your hair as you make your way to your room.

"We can just bunk in the same bed," you say with a shrug, and Bucky thinks he might have a heart attack.

"You're okay with that?" Bucky asks slowly.

You shrug again, "Yeah, I bunk with people all the time. Don't you? It's like part of the university experience."

Bucky doesn't know how to say that he's probably doing more than just sleeping when he bunks with someone.

You turn around and lean at your doorframe, quirking your brow with a smirk.

"Don't tell me you aren't enough of an adult to share a bed with me."

Getting a rise out of Bucky seems to work as Bucky stalks into your bedroom.

"I'll show you an adult," he mutters childishly, and you roll your eyes with a smile.  

And although Bucky says such big words, he's lying stiff as a board on the bed. He lies as close to the edge as possible without falling with his back turned to you, and you can't help but chuckle a little.

"You can unclench, you know. I hardly doubt you'll get some rest if you lie there like a metal rod," you say, but you're also lying pretty close to the edge with your back turned to him, though not as stiff. 

It's silent for a moment, but eventually, you feel the bed shift a little as Bucky relaxes. 

It's silent again, and you feel yourself starting to fall asleep.

"Who was that on your couch?" Bucky asks, breaking the silence.

"Hm?" You hum, opening your eyes slightly. "Oh, just a friend. He usually doesn't come to game night, but his boyfriend is visiting back home this weekend. He went a little too hard on the drinks."

"He's gay?"

"Yeah, got a problem?" You ask almost daring Bucky to say he does. 

"Definitely not," Bucky smiles. 

It's silent again.

"So--"

"Go to sleep, dumbass, you have a test in the morning," you say without opening your eyes. You hear Bucky chuckle softly. 

"Goodnight, doll."

"Goodnight," you smile. 

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

Warm. 

Bucky felt warm. Maybe a little too warm. 

He hasn't opened his eyes yet, but he can feel sunlight hitting his face and hear the birds chirping outside. 

Bucky takes a deep breath in and feels shifting in his arms. He moves a little, pulling the warmth in closer. 

He roughly hums in the back of his throat when he feels lips press against his collarbone.

It hits him like a freight train.

Bucky immediately opens his eyes, his body becoming rigid again as you come into view. 

What started with the two of you sleeping at the furthest edges of the bed with your backs turned to each other ended up being the very opposite. 

Sometime during the middle of the night, the two of you gravitated towards the middle of the bed. You were wrapped up in his arms, head just under his chin. He could feel your breath on the base of this throat, and it was giving him goosebumps.

Your hands were wrapped around his back, gripping his shirt slightly. Bucky couldn't even move too much with your legs intertwined with his. A groan wanted to escape his lips with his thigh wedged between your legs.

Bucky tried to move slowly without waking you. 

He really did.

But then you let out a whine, holding him tighter and clenching your legs to lock his thigh in.

"Stop moving," you whined.

God, Bucky doesn't think he'll make it. He's already got morning wood, and this is too much. 

He calls your name in an attempt to wake you up. 

"Doll, you gotta get up, I have a test soon," he says instead when you hardly react to him calling your name. 

This time, you do blearily open your eyes with a huff. 

You untangle yourself from him as Bucky lets out a quiet sigh of relief. Sitting up, you let out a yawn and let out a big stretch, your shirt riding a little up as you do. 

You look at your clock.

"Alright, there's about an hour before your test. Eat some breakfast before you go."

"It's really fin--"

"Break. fast."

You leave the room, and Bucky is left sitting there by himself. The morning passes quickly as you make breakfast. The sounds nor the smell seem to wake your friend up.

"Good luck on your test!" You smile at him as you make him a breakfast sandwich for him to go. 

Bucky smiles back with a 'thanks' before he leaves your place confused.  

Did this morning not affect you at all? Did you not see him as a man? 

Bucky was distracted during the whole test.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

You held your smile until you heard the footsteps fade from your door.

After that, you nearly screamed. You stalked over to your hungover friend and whipped a pillow into his face.

"Ack!" He wakes up, nearly falling off the couch. He groans instantly when he sees your face.

"I'm so hungover, oh my god," your friend moans. 

Your face feels hot as it's flushed in embarrassment. "This is all your fault for drinking too much and crashing on the couch! I should've pushed you onto the floor!"

You let out a groan before you stalked off to the washroom, closing the door. 

Your friend sits up, looking at the plate of eggs and bacon on the table. 

"What'd I do?"

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

The entire day leading up to the party is spent with you trying to contain your embarrassment. You're trying to repress the memory of being pressed up against Bucky and clingy. 

You didn't hear from Bucky after his test, and you were much too mortified to say anything, so you hadn't texted him either. 

"You look constipated, please take some shots and relax," Mary Jane hands you tequila with a lime slice.

You shoot back the shot without hesitation.

"Alright," Mary Jane whistles, "Do I even want to know what's got your panties in a knot?"

"Nope," you shake your head.

"Alright, fair enough. Get some more drinks and mingle!" Mary Jane turns her attention past you. You look behind and see her current boyfriend, Harry, enter the room with kegs.

You sigh when Mary Jane looks at you with puppy eyes.

"Go," you tell her. She squeals and kisses you on the cheek before rushing off. 

You do flitter through the party, catching up with some friends, and getting some drinks. 

As embarrassed as you are, the last thing you want is to get sloppy, so you don't overdo it. 

But as you already know, luck is never on your side. 

Especially when you see Bucky walking into the party. People are getting excited and rushing up to say hi to him because Bucky rarely goes to frat parties. 

The two of you lock eyes instantly, and the memory of this morning rushes back, and you wished the ground would open up and swallow you.

'Play it cool,' you tell yourself as you turn back to the group of people you're standing with. 

You're not even sure what they've been talking about, and there's no way you could focus on that now. 

Bucky doesn't seem to be rushing up to you either. He's drinking a beer with Harry as a crowd surrounds them. 

You can see girls in the back looking at him and whispering, and you feel the burn in your gut now for some reason. 

God, were you such a cliché that sharing a bed with Bucky actually made you think that way about him?

The night seems to continue on, and even though you keep catching eyes with Bucky, neither of you seems willing to make the first move. 

You head over to the bar to get more drinks when someone approaches you and orders you a drink. 

You internally groan.

Brock Rumlow. 

A real piece of work. 

He made it into Theta Chi, well-known to be a troublemaker. 

He was known to sleep around and make unwanted advances towards girls and was hardly passing his classes.

Brock had turned his attention to you lately, which you flat out rejected him. It helped that you were friends with Mary Jane, who was dating Harry, the president of Theta Chi, and could tell Brock to back off. 

But Brock Rumlow liked to push his boundaries. 

"You look pretty good tonight, did you dress pretty for me?" He smirks at you, and you roll your eyes.

"Fuck off, Rumlow. I already told you I'm not interested," you look away, not bothering to take the drink he ordered for you. 

"Now don't be like that, you haven't even gotten to know me yet," Brock leans against the counter close to you. 

"And as I've explicitly told you, no," you whip your head back and glare at him. 

You're about to walk off and see if you could find Mary Jane and Harry when Brock grabs your arm. 

"What the fuck-" You start to say when another arm comes into view, grabbing Brock's wrist. 

You look over to see Bucky standing there with his lip pressed into a thin line as he grips Brock's wrist hard enough until he lets go.

"Ow--what's your problem, dude?" Brock holds his wrist before shaking the pain off.

"Keep your hands off her," Bucky cocks his brow as he stands in front of you.

"How about you mind your business," Brock glares at him. "What? Are you her boyfriend?"

Bucky is standing so close to you that you can see his muscles tense, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around him from behind.

"Yes," you interrupt as Bucky lifts his arm over you and then around you so that you're tucked by his side. "He is my boyfriend."

You look up with a loving smile, trying to play the part when you find Bucky's steel-blue eyes gazing back at you.

He licks his lips, teeth dragging over his bottom lip, you swear so slowly before he smirks and looks back at Brock.

"So," Bucky keeps smiling, "fuck off."

"You could've just said you had a boyfriend," Brock grumbles at you like it's your fault somehow.

"My girlfriend doesn't have to say anything. Do you need to be taken back to elementary school to understand what 'no' or 'I'm not interested' means?" Bucky cocks his brow, and Brock sneers at him.

He looks like he wants to cause a scene, but Bucky is a well-known guy around campus, even if he's not in a fraternity house. Brock knows nothing good would come from starting a fight with Bucky, and he's already on thin ice with Harry.

And Bucky knows that. 

So, he turns to you with a smile.

"C'mon, doll, let's get out of here."

As you get ready to leave, Bucky turns to Brock once more with a steely look on his face.

"Stay the fuck away from my girl."

Bucky actually leads you out of the party, saying a brief goodbye to Harry and Mary Jane, who wiggles her brows at you, and you're so grateful to have left.

The two of you walk silently but slowly back to the apartment, and you've got your arms wrapped around your midsection. 

You cough, bringing Bucky's attention to you as you come to a stop under the streetlight.

"Thanks," you say a little awkwardly, "for you know, playing along."

Bucky smiles lightly. 

"If those are the kind of guys on your roster, I think you should expand your horizons a little."

"Not all of us can have a guy like you on our list, but I'll take that under advisement."

You laugh, trying to play it off as a joke because even though it was all just pretend for a moment, being pressed up against Bucky as his girlfriend shouldn't have felt as good as it did.

"You can add me to your roster."

The words were said so smoothly you had almost missed it. You turn your head to Bucky, who's standing there with his hands in his pockets. 

"What?" You say unsurely, convinced you might've heard him wrong.

"I told you I was waiting for the right girl," Bucky smiles, "I'm waiting for you, doll."

You feel an explosion of butterflies in your stomach, cheeks heating up as you process Bucky's words. 

Every meeting you've had with Bucky is a series of unfortunate events. 

And perhaps between every moment, while waiting for the right guy to come along, it only took waking up in his arms to realize maybe he was there all along. 

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 4

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Things just seem to keep getting tense around here... Will Reader ever catch a break? Will Yondu ever solve the mystery?

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: This chapter is a LONG BOI. I considered splitting it, but then one chapter would have been 2k+ words and the other would have been 5k+, and for some reason I thought people wouldn't like the inconsistency lol (Feel free to weigh in. I know a few of you have said you liked longer chapters, and I haven't gotten any nay-sayers, but still thought I might as well ask lol)

And thank you to the anons and @condy-wants-a-cookie for your bad roommate suggestions! I wasn't able to add them all in, but they were all appreciated nonetheless!

Word Count: 7,321

This morning you did sleep in, but that didn't make your day much better.

You were slightly hungover, to start, and you spent most of the day in a funk trying to avoid everyone.

This wasn't completely possible, seeing as you now lived with eight other people, but the others seemed to mostly get the hint that you wanted to be left alone.

The first real interaction you had was around noon as you poured yourself some cereal and Yondu and Peter came in the backdoor to tell you they just heard gunshots from the forest.

You barely glanced at them. "Hunters." you said. "Probably hunting pigeons, but more likely they're poaching deer or fox. Happens every year."

They seemed almost surprised by your blasé attitude at hearing there were gunshots, but did seem to relax a bit that you seemed so confident. You had said you grew up here, after all.

Peter was still a little nervous however. "Do they ever come this way?"

You look up to him, knowing what he was getting at. He wanted to make sure they wouldn't happen upon your house while anyone obviously not human was outside and put them all at risk. "No. I'm pretty sure it's just a man and his boys who live a couple miles away. I've never heard the shots come closer than a mile outside the property. You're fine."

Seemingly convinced they finally left you, but you did notice no one seemed to go out until well after the last of the shots were heard, and you assumed Peter must have warned the others to stay inside just in case.

After you ate you went upstairs to grab your music, fancying a walk. However, once you got there you caught Groot sticking his tendrils in the lock of the attic door.

"What you doing there?" you say, firm enough to get his attention, but gentle enough to hopefully not to scare him.

He turned to you, pulling back his vines, looking sorry. "I am Groot."

You shook your head. "Sorry buddy, I have no idea what you're saying, let's find someone who can translate." You beckoned him to come, holding out your hand.

Groot looked sheepish, like he wasn't sure he wanted to come, but eventually he did, toddling over to you and allowing himself to be picked up.

You carried him downstairs and into the sitting room, finding everyone but Mantis, Kraglin, and Rocket sitting at the table. You walked over and asked if anyone there could translate, sitting Groot on the table.

"Sure," Peter offered, "What's up?"

"Well, I found him growing his vines into the lock of the attic door and I just want to know what he was doing." Actually, you thought you knew what he was doing. It looked like he was trying to pick the lock, what you really wanted to know was why.

Gamora looked at the tree child with both confusion and intrigue. "Groot, why did you do that?"

"I am Groot."

"No buddy, she's not going to do that. She just wants to know what you were doing to her door." Peter answered.

You raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, I forgot we have to repeat the question for him. He doesn't know what you're saying. He was worried that you were going to be mad at him like you were to Rocket last night."

You were taken aback by this. "He can't unde-? But the first night you all got here-? I asked him a question and Drax translated his answer for me?"

Drax shrugged. "It was easier to make something up than explain he won't be able to understand you because neither of you have translators. What he had really told you was that he had no idea what you said."

Yondu and Peter looked at Drax like he was stupid. It wouldn't have taken much more effort to explain. He literally just did it.

You also look at Drax. "So this whole time he hasn't been able to understand a word I've said to him?" A realization hit you. "But wait- I'm pretty sure we-" you pointed a finger back and forth between you and them, "are speaking the same language??" You were wondering if they were trying to prank you.

Gamora looked at you apologetically. She would have corrected Drax when he made up an answer for Groot that first night, but she was too exhausted to deal with it, and afterwards it just never came up again. You had spent more and more time avoiding everyone anyway. "We're actually not speaking the same language. We all have translator chips, it's how we can all understand each other. It's standard where we're from. They work both ways. It's how you can understand us and how we can understand you. However, because neither you or Groot has one, he can't understand you." She didn't go into the fact that their translators didn't actually translate Groot, or how their understanding of him only came from time spent with him and Rocket's translations. She doubted they'd be there much longer for it to make a difference anyway.

"I see," you said. You frown. "I guess that explains why he never seemed to listen."

Peter lightly chuckled at that, as did Yondu.

"Anyway," Peter said, trying to bring the conversation back to what you came for. "What were you doing to her door?"

"I am Groot."

"He said he was trying to unlock it."

"Alright, kinda figured that, but why?"

Peter repeated the question to Groot and came back with the answer, "He said he was looking for a hiding spot?"

You raise an eyebrow.

"I am Groot."

"Oh that's right, you were playing hide and seek."

"Hmm. Well that's all fine, but the attic is off limits. It's locked for a reason." you say.

"She says you can't go in there, buddy. There are monsters in there."

You give him a strange look, but he gives his head a quick shake as if to tell you not to question it. You figured he probably thought the kid would be more likely to listen if he thought there were monsters and let it go.

Groots eyes went wide and he turned to you. "I am Groot?"

Yondu answered, fighting back a grin. "Yeah, really. Now run along before we feed you to them."

Peter smacked him in the arm as little Groot hopped off the table, and Yondu laughed and held up his hands in a "What?" gesture.

Almost on cue you then heard Kraglin call out, "Ready or not, here I come!" before walking into the sitting room and encountering Groot as he ran towards the door. He looked at Groot and laughed, "I don't think you know how this game works, buddy," before turning and leaving the room himself.

You also started to leave when Drax asked, "Why is the attic off-limits?"

Gamora shot him a look for being nosy but you answered anyway. "It's.. unsafe," you lie. "Old house, you know. Don't want anyone falling through the floor."

You leave them then, saying you're going out for a walk.

Your walk wasn't too long, just along the road a ways before turning back. When you got back to the house you decided to practice your archery some more. You may or may not have pretended that a certain someone's face was the target.

When you finally did come back inside you arrived to a commotion in the hall.

You didn't know what the fight was about. You didn't ask either. All you saw was Kraglin and Rocket standing in the hall arguing about some nonsense. Drax was also there, but he was sitting down on the bench tying his boots and seemed uninterested in the argument.

Then you saw Rocket go to bite Kraglin, miss, and then settle for lunging on him and Kraglin struggling to get him off. Drax didn't really do anything other than scold Rocket, and you suspected this must be so normal for him to witness that it just didn't register anymore.

Your nostrils flared and your eyes narrowed at the scene.

Rocket attacking and Kraglin flailing.

Peter came out of the sitting room, presumably to tell them to knock it off, then he saw the murderous look in your eyes and his sentence caught in his throat as he watched you storm over.

You grabbed Rocket by the scruff of the neck and roughly pulled him off, both to his and Kraglin's surprise. Rocket actually made a noise akin to a squeak.

The others watched as you wordlessly marched the fecker to the front door, earning many angry protests from the Raccoon on the way for you to let him go as he kicked and squirmed.

Hearing the sudden change in the commotion, this prompted Gamora and Yondu to join Peter in the doorway. Yondu, out of curiosity, and Gamora out of concern.

You jerked the door open, and told Rocket to take a walk before tossing him out like a rag doll, mercifully onto the grass. He landed and stared back in a mix of shock and anger, too stunned to think of running back towards you. "You can come back in when you stop wanting to being such a damn asshole." you told him, promptly shutting the door and spinning the deadbolt.

You didn't look at the others as you turned on your heels and made your way up the stairs to your room.

They stared at each other in the hallway, wondering if they had really just witnessed what they saw, and if they should do anything about it.

On one hand, you just literally threw their friend outside.

On the other, maybe it would cool him down to go for a walk?

In the end they decided not to intervene, see how it played out. Way they saw it there were two possible outcomes. One outcome, Rocket takes his time out and actually comes back calmer and ready to be civil. The other outcome, he spends his time out getting more pissed and then rips your face off when you finally let him back in.

The real outcome, however, was less conclusive.

You decided rather than waste the pasta one of the others bothered to save from the previous night, you'd re-make the sauce and heat the spaghetti and serve it for dinner that night.

You called the others to the kitchen and told them to serve themselves before leaving the kitchen. Fortunately there were no accusations of poison this time, but that could have been because Yondu saw which door of the kitchen you exited from and figured you were going to call Rocket back inside.

He was right.

You open the front door and call out into the open, "Hey, Rocket! If you've decided you want to play nice then come inside and eat!" You resisted the urge to call him 'shit-head' instead of his name. More flies with honey and all that.

You waited a bit and then saw Rocket turning the corner of the house to approach the front door. He didn't say anything, just grouchily shuffled inside and you followed in behind him. You didn't say anything either, trying not to antagonize too much.

When you saw everyone else was served you made a plate and took your dinner in your room. No one questioned. At the urging of Gamora they were still trying to give you your space.

They only hoped things would be less tense tomorrow.

***

The next time you were seen wasn't until a little before midnight, when Yondu happened to glance out the window as he was tucking into bed and saw your shadowy figure walking towards the forest in the moonlight.

He frowned. Once was odd. Twice only made him that much more curious. What was nearly the tipping point of his curiosity was the fact that he realized he would never hear you leaving the old house, which to him implied you were sneaking out. Sneaking out of your own house. The hell?

What the hell was out there that you kept disappearing to at night? Where you disappeared to when Rocket ruined dinner?

Next time he was going to stay up and catch you before you left.

***

Starting out things were indeed NOT less tense the next day.

Your day started out with Kraglin accidentally walking in on you when you had just gotten out of the shower. Fortunately for both of you you had literally just wrapped the towel around yourself before he opened the door, but that didn't make anything less awkward, or either of your startled screams less shrill.

He tried to apologize later, but you'd only responded with "Let's just never speak of it again."

Then you went to grab some breakfast, you thought toast would be nice. Only when you got into the kitchen the toaster was nowhere to be found. Maybe you put it in a cupboard? You opened the press where you might have put it, only to find your cooking pans instead.

That wasn't the particular cupboard where you kept your pans, however, and you began to have a sinking feeling as to what might have happened.

You opened another cupboard and finally found the toaster alongside the blender- again, not where they were supposed to be. You then went to find a knife, and wouldn't you know it, all your silverware was gone and replaced with towels.

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Do you like it?"

You turned to see Mantis and Drax beaming like they did a good deed. "What?"

"We re-arranged the kitchen." Drax said. "Rocket said it was a Terran custom and you'd be very happy."

You rub a hand down your face. Fecker pulled another prank. "And you believed Rocket why, exactly?"

Drax and Mantis shared a look, as if they just realized it wasn't a smart idea to believe Rocket. They only grimaced apologetically back at you with an "Um..."

After a moment Mantis asked if you were mad.

You look at them for a bit before saying, "No. I'm not mad. I'm not happy about it, but I'm not mad. But, you two are going to help me put everything back."

They nodded quietly and got to work. It took an hour to get it straight again.

After you finally got to eat you decided to tend your garden again. It didn't need much weeding, so you decided to work slow to avoid going back inside for a bit. Mantis had also come outside with you and went over to play on the swing. She had seemingly become quite fond of it in her short time here.

After perhaps ten minutes you heard a snap and a startled cry and turned to find Mantis now on the ground. The old rope had finally snapped.

Mantis looked up at you and sheepishly said, "Sorry, I broke your swing."

You look at her in exhaustion. "It's fine. Not your fault, it was old. You ok?"

Mantis nodded and headed back inside as she rubbed her smarted behind.

You turn back to your garden. Today might be another archery day.

Instead of archery you thought of another idea. Rocket had complained about sleeping in the crib at least five times since he got here, probably more when you weren't around to hear it. Maybe you could build him a little bed as a peace-offering. Maybe he'd be less insufferable if you fixed the problem he was always complaining about.

You already knew you had enough wood in the shed to do it, and you already knew the crib fit a 120 X 60 cm mattress, so you'd just build the bed to the same dimensions as the crib so the mattress would still fit- you weren't going to go to that much trouble for the shithead. And as a bonus, this was also another way to keep busy.

You sketched out a quick plan on an old notepad you kept in the work shed and got to work cutting the pieces.

It was a simple design, but one that still required the bed legs and headboard to be joined and clamped together, same as the footboard. This meant you wouldn't be finished by tonight, especially not if you decided to stain it, which was fine by you. You weren't exactly in a rush.

You did what you were able to of the bed frame before heading back inside, maybe a little more than an hour later to grab something quick for lunch. Rocket was already in the kitchen eating something out of a little packet that looked unfamiliar to you. More alien food, you thought.

He looked up at you as you walked in with a raised eyebrow. "What you been up to?"

You looked down to where his gaze met and saw you still had a bit of sawdust on your jeans. You brushed it away and said, "Nothing."

He eyed you before his expression changed to a grin. He thought he'd have a little fun with you, slight revenge for the previous day when you threw him outside. Nothing much, just something to take "Miss Cranky-Ass" down a peg. He looked at you innocently. "Hey, you want to try one of these? They're good."

You eye him suspiciously. Every instinct you had told you not to trust him.

Rocket could tell you weren't biting. "Look, I know things have been tense between is, but consider it a peace offering." He held out the bag and kept grinning.

Not a chance.

Peter walked into the kitchen at that moment, just the person you needed to see. You got his attention, "Hey, Peter, what's this little fecker trying to do to me?"

Peter looked confused. "What?" he asked.

"He's offering me whatever those purple things are, and I think you could forgive me for not trusting it right away."

Rocket made a show of looking offended, "I'd never-"

Then Peter got a look at the bag and shot Rocket an annoyed look. "Yeah, do not eat that." he warned. He looked at Rocket. "You know Terrans can't eat xanti-berries." He looked back at you, "Seriously, don't eat them. You'll be shitting yourself the rest of tonight and tomorrow."

Your eyes widened and you looked at Rocket bitterly. Your instincts had been right. Can't trust the little shit. And to think you were making him a bed so he didn't need to sleep in the crib.

Rocket was now snickering, saying to Peter, "Come on- I mean we know that's what happens to you-" More snickering. "But maybe it's just a you thing-" Snickering now turns to laughing. "Maybe- Maybe she'd be fine. AHAHA!"

The little beast was now fully laughing at his own joke.

"Yeah, no thanks," you say, turning to grab a granola bar instead.

Peter shooed still laughing Rocket out of the kitchen. "I'm sorry about him, he's-"

"An asshole?" you finish for him.

Peter rubbed the back of his head, "Yeah..." he said with an apologetic look. He could tell you were past tired of his friend's bullshit, which was bad because they hadn't even been there a full week yet.

You shook your head and went to eat in your room, maybe you'd scroll some tumblr.

***

Not much later after you had gotten bored refreshing the page, you thought you'd look for a book to read in the sitting room, and walked in on Rocket and Peter arguing over what to watch. This eventually lead to the remote being flung across the room and just narrowly missing the TV.

You rub your temples and sigh. "You know, if you break that, I'm not replacing it."

"Oh yeah, you think we're gonna replace it?" Rocket snarked.

You looked at them. "That's not what I said, is it? I said I'm not replacing it. Meaning if you break it, there just won't be one. I'm not going to reward bad behavior by replacing it if you break it."

You heard Rocket mutter, "Whatever," and not long after you started hearing the noises of them bickering and smacking at each other again.

"Enough!" you say in a loud, firm voice that honestly startled Peter a bit and caught the attention of Kraglin from the table where he was doing a puzzle he found on a shelf. Your desire to find a book forgotten you left the sitting room, saying, "God, you act like children!"

You passed Gamora on your way out and said, "How do you deal with them?!" You continued on without waiting for an answer and Gamora shot a disapproving look at the pair on the couch, clearly unhappy that they were still finding ways to piss you off.

You went back into the kitchen, retrieved a glass from the cupboard, the whiskey bottle from the other night from the fridge, and sat at the table.

Yondu walked in about ten minutes later. "Starting a little early, I see." He wasn't actually sure if it'd be early to start drinking by Terran customs or not, but he knew from when he still had his crew and the Eclector, his crew typically weren't allowed to start in until all their day's duties were done, which, not always, but usually wasn't until after dinner. Outward appearance would have suggested otherwise, but he kept a tighter ship than one might think. Couldn't have someone piss drunk on the job and fucking everything up, now could he? That's not to say the crew always listened... but they were well aware of the consequences of getting caught drunk on the job.

You only answered back with a, "There are glasses in the cupboard if you want some."

Yondu chuckled and went for a glass, not one to refuse a drink.

As soon as he sat down you stood up. "I'll be back." you announce.

Yondu poured himself a glass and you shortly returned with another bottle of whiskey from the cellar. "Bottle was almost gone," you explain, setting the new bottle on the table and re-taking your seat.

Yondu looked at you, amused, but also mildly wondering where you had retrieved a second bottle from. He had never been bothered to explore the cellar. If he had he would have known you kept most of your unopened alcohol down there, where it could stay cool without needing a refrigerator.

Yondu took a sip, and almost recoiled, having not expected this Terran stuff to be quite so strong. It wasn't anything he couldn't handle, mind you, but he had honestly just assumed Terran whiskey would be weak. From experience with Peter, the boy always got piss drunk after only barely a couple shots of Xandarian liquor, which wasn't very strong, so he just assumed Terrans had a naturally lower tolerance. Now he just supposed Quill was a lightweight.

"Anything on your mind?" Yondu asked. If you were sitting here drinking alone surely there must be.

You glance up. "Nope," you say, as you down the rest of your glass. You pour another.

"Uh huh... right. That's why you look like a grump-ass sitting here drinking all by yourself then."

You give him a look, gesturing to him with your glass. "You're sitting right there aren't you? Looks like I ain't alone."

Yondu chuckled and shook his head. Cheeky shit. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Nope."

Yondu grinned and pointed at you knowingly. "Gotcha."

"What?" you say, confused by his tone.

"Ya said ya don't wanna talk about it. Means there's somethin' on yer mind."

You look at him through narrow eyes and take another sip.

"What is it? Tired of Rocket's shit? Don't blame ya. Rat can be a real asshole."

You sigh.

"So it is the rat, then?"

"Quit," you say, taking another drink and looking at him sternly.

Yondu held up his hands and backed off. "Alright. I won't push it."

"Push what?" came Peter's voice from the doorway as he and Kraglin walked into the kitchen. Peter grabbed a snack from the pantry and tossed one to Kraglin.

"Cool, didn't realize we were starting a party" Kraglin joked, referring to the two whiskey bottles on the table and you and Yondu sitting there with your glasses.

Figuring you might as well offer them some you motioned to the cupboard again. "Glasses up there. Might as well join us."

You didn't have to ask them twice. Peter got down a couple glasses and Kraglin poured them some drink.

Peter nodded to the two bottles and joked asking if you were trying to see who could outdrink the other.

You shrugged. "Nah. If we were to do that, he'd need to catch up."

Yondu laughed. "You don't wanna go there, missy. I'll drink ya under the table before you knew what hit you." He chuckled and elbowed Kraglin in the arm, who snickered, knowing full well Yondu could drink like a tank.

You rolled your eyes. "Like I said, you'd need to catch up to me first. I'm about four ahead of you.

Yondu's head snapped back to you glancing from your drink to you. "Four?" You must be joking. You weren't even tipsy yet that he could tell.

You were unable to hold back a laugh. "Nah, I'm only messing with you." You downed your glass. "I'm two ahead after that one." You poured yourself another glass. You grinned slightly. "Again, do I need to wait for you to catch up?"

Yondu grinned at you, his eyes almost inquisitive. "Ya really sure ya wanna do that?" He was confident you didn't stand a chance.

Peter laughed. "What, you scared she'll outdrink you?"

Yondu rolled his eyes and downed his glass. "No. Jus' concerned she'll hurt herself tryin'," he laughed.

Now you rolled your eyes. "Fine. Don't. I'll accept your admission of defeat." you say with a shrug as you take another sip. This was almost definitely the buzz talking. You weren't a lightweight, but you still weren't exactly the heaviest drinker.

Peter and Kraglin hid giggles behind their glasses as Yondu gave you a hard look and poured himself another glass and downed it.

"There, I'm caught up." he said, pouring himself another glass to match you. "I'll give you one more chance to back out, sweetheart."

You down your glass. "I ain't your sweetheart, grandpa."

Yondu narrowed his eyes and downed his as well. "Then it's on, pipsqueak."

"Ooh-hoho. You're gonna regret that." you say, unable to hold back a grin as you poured another round for the two of you.

Peter and Kraglin were now openly laughing at the show as they sipped their drinks.

Yondu tipped his glass to you and took a sip. "We'll see." He wasn't really concerned with the drinking game. He was fairly certain he'd win. He did, however, think the whiskey might loosen your tongue, get you to talk to him. Maybe he'd eventually get around to asking why you lived in such a big place by yourself or what was in the forest that you kept walking into.

You followed his lead, sipping your current glass rather than downing it right away. Maybe it was the buzz starting to talk, but you suddenly were curious about something. "I don't think you guys ever told me why you needed to go into hiding in the first place."

"Fury didn't tell you?" Peter asked.

"Nope. He was too busy moving you guys in and changing up my house and getting into my shit to mention it." you say, taking another sip.

Yondu also sipped. Tongue loosening: Check.

"Well it's kinda a long story," Peter began, "but short version, we were hired to do a job for these people, and we did it, but then Rocket insulted them, and stole their shit, and now they've vowed vengeance."

"And they ain't the forgivin' type." Kraglin added.

"No. Definitely not," said Yondu mournfully, taking another sip. Bad enough his crew mutinied and he blasted his ship to hell, now he had to go into hiding. Yondu Udonta doesn't hide... unless forced to by the Nova Corps because he joined his boy's little team of galaxy savers, apparently... He supposed it was better than jail. He should really thank Peter for pulling those strings sometime.

"Anyway, so when the Nova Corps heard about it they insisted we go into hiding until they could try and smooth it over."

"Hmm." You say, finishing your glass. "So they're trying to beg for your lives, is that it?"

Peter shrugged awkwardly. "More or less."

"They must really like you." you laughed, looking down as Yondu poured everyone another round.

"They should," Yondu said. "He saved the galaxy twice."

Peter looked at him and he tried to hide how his heart swelled. Receiving praise from the blue man for things other than thievery was still new to him, but he didn't exactly hate it.

Yondu ignored his gaze. He wasn't about to get caught up in sentiment. He changed the subject. "Why don't ya tell us a little about yerself?"

You pretended to think a bit before taking a drink and saying, "Hmm... Nope."

Yondu held back a sigh. Tongue loosening: Un-Check. He tipped back his glass and nodded to you, as if to challenge.

You tipped your glass back in turn and as you poured another Yondu taunted, "I think that was five now, sure ya don't wanna slow down?"

You give him a patronizing look. "Is that your way of saying you give up?" You started to giggle behind your hand when Yondu's expression read 'Oh please.' and he finished his glass to keep the pour even between you.

Kraglin grinned wide and nudged Peter, "Eh, Pete, tell her about that time you got stabbed for flirting with that A'askvarii chick."

Peter's eyes widened and he looked at Kraglin, "Not cool, dude!"

Yondu chuckled and you just looked at Peter inquisitively, having no idea what an 'A'askvarii' was. Before you could ask Yondu spoke up.

"If I remember correctly he didn't get stabbed for that one. Kree girl tried to rip out his thorax. He got stabbed for trying to pull a runner on a Rajack girl." Yondu said, grinning before taking another drink.

Peter glared at him. "New topic." He looked at you. "What got you into archery?"

You sighed through your nose. You supposed it was an innocent enough question. "Dad taught me. How'd you'd come about living in space?"

Peter made a face and downed his drink. "Uh, long story, another time..." How would he explain that the reason he was in space was because his Celestial father sent the man sitting next to you to abduct him... and make it not sound awful? Better think of something lighter. "Uh... Got any family around or is it just you?"

You eyes narrowed. Your former giddiness visibly left you.

'Oh no.' Peter thought. That apparently wasn't lighter... You must not get along with your family. He tried to fix it. "Ok, touchy subject- I mean... Oh look, your glass is empty!" He quickly poured you and him another round.

You actually almost laughed at that, and a slight grin cracked your face.

Yondu saw how your expression changed and incorrectly assumed that it meant you weren't actually that irritated by Peter's question. He then took that incorrect assumption to pose his own question. "So, you didn't quite answer the other night, and I'm still curious. How come it's just you in this big old house?"

This prompted Kraglin to add his own question. "Yeah, and I've been wondering too, how's come you don't keep any photos?"

Your glare returned. You sat your glass down and stood up saying in a slightly slurred speech, "I have to pee." and excused yourself from the table, stumbling a bit as the alcohol hit you. You righted yourself, earning a chuckle from Peter and Kraglin, who knew too well that it's always easy to believe you aren't as drunk as you are until you stand up and the room spins.

Yondu also laughed, but internally cursed himself. He wasn't gonna get any answers like this. He hoped that maybe there was still a chance to save it when you got back. He saw a hint of pain in your eyes just before you left, and it made him want to know why. He felt he was so close to putting the pieces together.

***

You head to the bathroom irritated at being asked the personal questions. Leave it up to your new house mates to ruin your buzz.

You only got more irritated upon entering the bathroom, however.

Someone had left their wet towels on the floor. Rolling your eyes in annoyance you kicked them aside to make your way to the toilet. Mercifully you didn't find any unpleasant surprises waiting inside it like you had been. Peter must have gotten the "Flush the damn toilet!" message through to Drax. However, once you had done your business you found that someone couldn't have been bothered to replace the toilet roll properly, just having sat it on the roll holder.

You sigh irritably and replace it properly yourself. Yes, it could have been worse. They could have not replaced it at all and forced you to do a mini walk of shame to the sink cupboard to retrieve it, but you were too cranky to look at the bright side.

Then you went to wash your hands, only to see someone had smeared toothpaste all over the sink, a big pet peeve of yours. Your nostrils flared and you muttered to yourself as you washed that you weren't going to clean it. Screw that.

You went to dry your hands, and find there was no towel to dry them. You gritted your teeth and ripped a towel from the small closet, hanging it on the hook when you were finished.

Before leaving the bathroom you tried to gather yourself, taking a deep breath and telling yourself to calm down. It would be ok. You were just a little drunk. It wasn't that big of a deal. You were going to go back out and try to have some fun drinking that blue bastard under the table. (This, of course, was the alcohol talking. False confidence. You really did never stand a chance of outdrinking the Ravager captain.)

You start to open the door, and that's when you reach your breaking point.

***

After you left, Kraglin nudged Peter again, whispering the words, "A'askvarii girl," to him and giggling like a child.

Peter smacked him in the arm, "Quit it! That was one time! And I was only trying to get information! Tell him Yondu!" He tried to look angry, but the whiskey was having its usual effect on him, making him a giggly little bitch.

Yondu only grinned and shook his head. "I dunno boy, you were a little too convincing if ya ask me... Nobody asked you to sleep with her."

Kraglin bust out laughing at Peter's face, which was an odd mix of horror, drunken mirth, and "Dammit, you got me." He playfully shoved Peter and Peter shoved back with a "You suck!" which prompted Kraglin to squeeze his side, which of course made Peter jolt with a laugh and smack him away.

Kraglin only did it again and Peter laughed out a "Quit it!" while smacking him again.

Yondu just rolled his eyes and chuckled, sipping his whiskey as he watched his boys mess around like they did when they were younger on the Eclector.

After a pinch to the knee Peter bolted off his chair, only to have Kraglin follow, laughing, "Come back 'ere, ya coward!" He got Peter in a headlock and started to give him a noogie.

Peter laughed and managed to worm away, taking off into the hallway.

Yondu watched in amusement as Kraglin followed Peter out of the kitchen, and listened as the sounds of their shenanigans took them from the front door down the hall. That's when he heard the sound of a door slamming and a loud cry of "OW! Mother---FUCKer!" that sounded suspiciously like you.

'Oh shit,' he thought, standing from the table to go inspect the damage.

***

It had all happened fairly quickly.

You had opened the bathroom door maybe a foot before it slammed back in your face. Literally in your face. You recoiled and swore loudly, the flash of pain made your eyes water and you saw red before you even realized you were bleeding.

Kraglin and Peter jerked away from the door in startled shock after hearing you cry out. They had only been horsing around when their antics caused Peter to fall back into the door just as you opened it. They jumped when the door slammed back open with an incredible BANG against the wall, and their eyes went wide when they saw you standing there, murderous rage in your eyes and blood running from your nose down your chin.

Maybe it was because he was the nearest person, or maybe it was because he instinctually held up his hands and said "Sorry! Sorry! It was an accident!" but Peter was the one you lunged at.

You grabbed him by the shoulder and slammed him into the wall, nearly a week's worth of frustration and rage channeled through you as his body connected with the plaster.

Peter, not just going to stand there and let himself get beaten up, tried to grab your wrists and get you off him, but you evaded his attempts and punched him in the stomach.

This slightly knocked the wind from him, but he managed to grab your wrist and push off from the wall. He spun you around and tried to restrain you in a bear hug, saying, "Take it easy!" but you only dropped to your knees and lurched forward, flipping him over your back towards the front door.

Kraglin looked to Yondu, who watched from outside the kitchen door near the end of the hall. His gaze asked what to do, but Yondu only shrugged and didn't try to intervene. He knew Peter could handle himself and he was sure you needed to let off some steam, so he just enjoyed the show.

The commotion brought the others in though. Gamora and Mantis flew down the stairs, while Rocket, Drax, and Groot stepped out of the sitting room to witness the fight with wide eyes. They didn't know what had happened, but you looked ready for the kill, and to the few who could see it from their vantage, you looked almost terrifying with your bared teeth full of blood.

You now straddling Peter, attempting to throw a punch when he blocked it and flipped the two of you over. He breathlessly told you to settle down as you struggled, but you wouldn't hear it. If anything it seemed to make you more pissed off, and Gamora's cries for the two of you to stop fell on deaf ears.

You kneed Peter in the stomach and flipped the two of you back over. You weren't sure what next possessed you, but you threw your head down and sank your teeth into his shoulder.

Peter threw his head back and cried out in pain, mixing in a few curses as well.

Yondu cocked his head, seeming unsure on whether he wanted to be impressed or not to see you, Miss SHIELD Agent, fight dirty. Kraglin finally spoke up to say, "Hey, hey, now! No bitin'!" as if he were refereeing a wrestling match.

Right about then you felt large strong hands grip you about the waist, surprising you into releasing your bite on Peter as they pulled you off of him. The arms moved from your waist to secure your wrists and before you knew it you were being restrained in half a bear-hug by one very strong arm as you were turned away from Peter and pulled towards the front door.

Drax paused to open the door and, turning you to face him, flatly said. "You need to take a walk."

"Drax!" Gamora hissed, appalled that he was throwing their host out of her own house, despite the circumstances.

Rocket, of course, laughed and asked how you liked it, like an asshole. It was only then he saw the blood around your nose and mouth and his expression changed slightly to reflect his shock, now wondering if you had actually taken a chunk out of Peter when you bit him. Were you some kind of maniac?

You spat blood at him, only for it to land on the floor at his feet as he was standing too far away, and then slammed the door behind you on your way out.

Gamora came the rest of the way down the stairs to inspect Peter's shoulder, seeing the blood on his shirt.

"It's fine," he assured, "It's hers, not mine. See, she didn't break skin." He pulled back his shirt to prove it. "I think I accidentally broke her nose though. That's what started it."

Gamora looked at him in confusion. "You broke her nose?! What the hell, Peter!"

"It was an accident!" he said again.

Gamora took a step back. "Ok. Tell me what happened. Start from the beginning."

"Well, we were all drinking-"

Gamora threw up her hands. "Oh, well that explains everything!" she interrupted bitterly. Dumb stuff almost always seemed to happen when those guys and alcohol mixed.

Rocket spoke up. "You were drinking and didn't invite us? Rude."

Gamora threw him an unamused look. "Not the point, Rocket."

Peter tried again. He explained he and Kraglin joined you and Yondu drinking, you got up to use the bathroom, he and Kraglin started horsing around, and one thing lead to another until he fell back against the door as you were coming out of the bathroom and it must have hit you and pissed you off.

Gamora looked at him. So it really had just been a big drunken accident. She also then realized Drax had not only just threw their host out of their own house, but threw you out while you were also drunk, broken and bleeding.

They were sooo getting kicked out.

"We should call her back in." said Gamora. "You shouldn't have thrown her out, Drax. This is her home. We're only guests."

Drax looked confused. "Why? It worked with Rocket. I thought I was helping?"

"Don't bother trying," said Yondu nonchalantly. "Bet she's already well into the forest by now."

They looked at him. "How would you know that?" Gamora asked.

He shrugged. "It's where she went the other night she got mad. Saw her heading there out the window when Rat there destroyed the kitchen and ruined diner." He left out the bit that he'd also seen you head there in the middle of the night too. He was saving that bit of mystery for himself to solve.

Rocket just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms at being called out for his past grievances. It got cleaned, didn't it?

"I'm sure she'll come back when she's ready," Yondu added. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't tempted to go look for you, if for no other reason than to see where you kept going to out there, but he had a feeling that if you didn't want to be found, he wouldn't find you. He might have some experience tracking, but he couldn't also forget what you did for a living. While he might not know much about what your job entailed, he got the feeling you weren't just some desk-jocky.

Besides, if you found your way back, drunk, the other night, he was sure you could do it again.

Begrudgingly Gamora agreed to wait.

And wait they did.