#no seriously the idea of this is gonna send me into hysterics!!!

[sitkowski]

WHAT IF I START CRYING AT 9AM???

dad omens - jolly karlsson

Word Count: 756 Ruffilo

You’ve been together for a while, you’ve had your talks and you’ve made your plans. And you’ve tried your best to time things so that Jolly would be home for the important things. Of course, with their line work, staying at home for long periods of time wasn’t really something he can do.

Thankfully, the positive test comes just as they’re wrapping up the touring for the band's latest album. 

Jolly is as ecstatic about the news as you are. You’ve been working towards this for a while, and finally seeing those two bars on the test had absolutely floored you. 

Things are perfectly fine and dandy until you’re informed that instead of one baby, you’re expecting twins. 

After a good cry – that will certainly not be the last – you readjust your footing. Throughout the duration of this pregnancy, you find yourself impossibly emotional at the smallest things. Cute baby bird? Tears. Sweatshirt that doesn’t quite fit any more? Tears. Jolly is more than content to offer whatever comfort you need. It’s a delicate balance, but most of the time he manages to find the right things to say or do. 

You’re especially thankful for the extra hands now that you have two newborn babies to handle. Jolly is incredibly helpful, takes whatever he can off your shoulders. He becomes very good at doing various things around the house with at least one of your kids on his arm. He’s juggling babies as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. He’s changing nappies as if the smell doesn’t even affect him. 

He’s perfected the nap time routine to the point that you’re scared for the time when he’s not there to put the twins to sleep. Sometimes you listen in on the lullabies he sings to them. Watching Jolly tend to the twins quickly becomes your favourite thing. He’s so gentle with him — not that you expected anything else from him. 

When you wake up to an empty bed one night and go searching for him. Following the soft cries of your son to the kitchen, you find him bare-chested, softly rocking him in an attempt to soothe the bitter cries. Of course, he tries to usher you back into bed, but you stay, keeping him company until your son settles down again. You watch from the door as he returns your son into his crib. He stays for a moment longer, making sure that the boy is settled and will continue to sleep. You’re tucked into bed a little while later, curled up around each other, enjoying one of the few rare moments of peace you’re awarded at the moment. You know that the peace doesn’t last long, and you gladly soak up the quiet moments you manage to squeeze in between the chaos that comes with twins. 

As the twins grow up, you find yourself balancing two fundamentally different people. The two have entirely different personalities, with your son following more in your steps and your daughter coming right after her father. She gets into the same music he’s into, sits attentively when he works in the studio. Jolly is incredibly supportive of her creative endeavours. Of course, he is just as supportive of your son's hobbies and interests. Kid’s into sports? He’s there, cheering on him. Arts? Every little drawing and sketch is saved and displayed. 

Jolly tries his best to catch on lost time when he’s home. They’re out on camping trips and other little adventures as often as possible. Most of the time it’s just the three of them, but on occasion it’s all four of you on these little trips, and you’re so very grateful that you get to have this with them. You get to watch them struggle with the tent, watch the twins double over with laughter when he tries to be so very cool but fails terribly. And when you sit around your little campfire at the end of the day, you can’t possibly wish for more. These three people are the most important people in your life, and watching them together makes all the stress and chaos and distance worth it. 

At the end of the day, all Jolly expects is honesty from your children. He doesn’t need them to perform great academic feats as long as they do their best and ideally have a little bit of a good time with it. He doesn’t need them to be the best and greatest, all he wants for them to find their place in the world.

[padfootastic]

The most recent chapter was so fun!!!! Harry (unconsciously) feeling safe enough with Sirius to completely crash after a long tiring day>>> Just the idea of Walburga Black being a beater is hysterical yet strangely fitting in a way... Truly an enigma of a woman. I also need to know if Harry explained to Sirius what a blast-ended skrewt is. I can't imagine Sirius being happy with Hagrids way of teaching (concerning Harry's safety. Otherwise I think he'd love it)

Quick question: why would "the others" not approve of Harry and Sirius going flying in the quidditch room? Just general 'could get injured' or something else? Cause I read it like they were still inside so it's not like they're leaving the house right?

Almost need a little recap on all the times Walburga's portret went off and the others having to deal with her. Can't imagine they'll be pleased whenever Harry and Sirius turn up again.

Those two also really need to figure out how to not spiral at the same time. I think that would be very helpful for them lmao

(I'm also HONOURED my ask send you running to the doc??!!?!! A hot choco scene because of me??!!??!?!)

god ikr?? like with the order, our boy feels like he HAS to be strong and convincing and competent but the minute he’s around sirius, who has the most right to his answers, he’s like soz i’m out. no fear, minimal guilt. i love it. i love them sm.

hahaha maybe we can have a lil snippet in the end notes of the next chapter ab harry explaining hagrid’s lessons to sirius? it is a v amusing mental image i admit.

ahh so i don’t know how to explain it, exactly, but everyone in the order was so WEIRD about grimmauld place? like,,,why are molly and the kids manually cleaning the whole house by hand?? a house that is clearly shown as magically decaying and filled w dangerous items/creatures to boot??? and then theres the sirius aspect of it. even in canon, he was considered reckless and a negative influence, and i can see the order being worried ab harry spending unsupervised time w him. in FoD, they can see how much our boy has changed and are going to possibly be even more wary of him around sirius, esp in places they can’t access. and to some extent, i also don’t think they see harry as like. a person? let alone a child, but just. someone with agency who can do things for the heck of it. i think so many of them fall into the trap of picturing him like a symbol and they hold him to way higher standards. the way they acted around him in third year is the biggest eg of this for me. so yeah, i think that plays in here a bit too

god anon can i just say—i have SO MANY ideas regarding walburga’s portrait bc i honestly really wanna include her on the fic (partly bc we’re gonna have some sirius povs coming up, after harry goes to hogwarts, and i think she’s crucial to his character and partly bc i think she’s a criminally underused plot device) but it fully depends on which characterisation i go with because there’s a few. and it’ll change the trajectory of her presence.

but yeah, that’s still a little bit away haha

and yes!!! i’m seriously not exaggerating; i hadn’t touched FoD in close to a year until that ask and then suddenly it’s like i’m possessed by a manic writer ghost lol so im very very thankful to u haha

[fabbyf1]

Hi!! 💕

Two is a Crowd, Three is a Party 👀 love to know more about this wip 🥰

Ahhhhhhhh.... Two is a Crowd, Three is a Party.... my BELOVED.

My HEART.

My SOUL.

Babes, I'm not gonna lie to you. This is pure filth. This was originally titled "threesome?¿?¿" which then turned into "the Miami fic" and then, as all things do in my life, it somehow turned into a Pitbull quote.

¡Dale!

It's just a cute, casual lestappen/carlos threesome fic that is not all sinful and wrong. Just, you know, Charles having a !thing for being watched and Max being so in love with Charles that he'd give him anything he wants.

Even if that means Carlos sitting in a chair watching them.

lololololol anyway.... as I said in my other ask, this is ALSO @oicawas's fault!!!!! I'M NOT GONNA TAKE THE FULL BLAME FOR THIS ONE, BESTIE.

here's a little snippet for you:

“Ask away,” Carlos said, sipping his coffee. 

“Look, you know I’m a pretty blunt guy. There’s no reason this has to be a big deal. So I’m just going to say it, and you can think about it or give me an answer right away. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that,” Max said, still gesturing with his hands on the table between them. 

“Okay...” Carlos trailed off, confusion setting in. 

“Cool,” Max agreed casually with a nod of his head. “Charles and I were wondering if you’d like to join us for an evening.” 

Carlos blinked at him again as the silence stretched between them. 

Max folded his hands and stared back at Carlos, his expression hard to read and his eyes unmoving. Carlos was waiting for him to finish his sentence, but the longer the silence went on, the more he realized Max wasn’t planning on saying anything else. 

“Join you for what?” Carlos finally asked. 

“Charles has a bit of a kink for being watched,” Max said simply, and Carlos had no idea what he was expecting Max to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. He was mid-sip of his coffee and was suddenly choking on the liquid, spluttering and desperately trying not to spray the coffee everywhere. 

“Ay, cabrón. What the fuck?” Carlos spluttered out, looking at Max like he had two heads. “I thought you were going to say a round of golf! Or... paddle or something!” 

“Oh. I’m sorry, I thought you realized where this conversation was going,” Max said seriously, though his eyes were still lit up with amusement from Carlos almost dying in front of him. 

“What? Why would I ever think that?” Carlos asked a bit hysterically. 

Max gave him a considering look before he said, “You seemed up for it.”

lmfao send help. @takenquicklys i can't wait for you to beta this, bestie. send me your therapy bill.

[victorluvsalice]

-->And then heard a weird musical sting, and looked over at Smiler to realize they were absolutely Hysterical from all this fun. AKA, one good giggle fit away from death. D: I quickly got them away from the games to chat with Victor, who laid a Heat Of The Moment kiss on them as a distraction. XD Once they’d gotten their flirt on a bit, I had Smiler go calm themselves down in the bathroom mirrors (never mind they have no reflection to do so) -- once they were safely just Very Inspired, I then let them hop on the DDR machine while Victor shot some hoops at the basketball machine. As my game threw out ANOTHER barista-related error. *grumbles* I don’t know if that’s the game, one of my mods, or what, but seems I’m gonna have to be careful playing for a while...

-->And then I looked at the date timer, saw that they only had thirty minutes left, and was like “crap, forget the games, finish socializing, do more cute things together!” XD Fortunately they were more than amenable to kissing and flirting some more, and the date ended with them having reached Gold level as well, yay! Not like I need those VIP buckets, but fuck it, we can recycle them or something. I just wanted my boy and my enby to have a good time.

-->With that date done, it was time to send the pair home, where I found Alice, still in werewolf form, sitting on the couch watching some classic Sims TV. Which gave me an idea – VICTOR had already fulfilled the “watch Romantic TV” tradition I slapped on the holiday a while back, but Alice and Smiler hadn’t. And despite the fact it was past midnight, the holiday wasn’t quite over yet (they don’t end until 2 AM the next morning). So I had Alice turn off the classics, let out a somber howl to keep her Fury down, change back into her human form, then put on the Romance channel before sending Victor and Smiler over to join her on the couch. Holiday ended with the three of them hanging out for a while, watching goofy medical dramas and doing a little bit of flirting, before Smiler got up and left Alice and Victor to it while they made a drink over at their bar in the party barn. XD At least they all had an extremely successful Love Day!

*whew* Yeah, that was a bit more chaotic than I wanted – at least for Victor and Alice, at any rate! Seriously – I can get that the problems with them getting their food was because the cafe’s probably a little too small and was built with form over function in mind, but the FUCK was with townies just randomly flirting with Alice?! Like I said, that didn’t happen on Victor and Smiler’s date – everyone just left them alone! Does Alice have some sort of setting on her that makes townies think it’s okay to get up close and personal on her, because I have GOT to turn that off if so. Talk about the most unAlice thing ever... But at least I got my two good dates in the end. Next time, we wrap up in-game spring with another trip to Van Liddelton Groceries! The gang filled the shelves, and now we have to empty them. See you then!

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

I would love to know the Pack’s reaction to Channie’s handcuff selca because I can only imagine how good they would be. Like he just sent it in the gc because he’s at an award show being recognized as an up and coming music producer. Like how could Noona and Han not be the “daddy? Sorry! Daddy?” Type

"Ohoho. You have no idea." You sit back, glaring at Chan pointedly, even as he sighs and refuses to meet your gaze. "Let's just drop the pictures you sent again, just for reference, shall we?"

"Oh my god." Jisung bites his fist-literally bites his fist-and makes an insanely lewd sound around his knuckles. "Hyung, seeing these again is bringing it all back."

"Oh my god." Chan repeats, but for an entirely different reason, as he stares up at the ceiling in abject hopelessness. "Do we really have to do this?"

"I dunno, hyung-" Hyunjin replies back tartly, eyes dark and intense as they pin down the squirming head alpha, pointing to the offending pictures once more. "-did you really have to do that?"

"It was an award show. I was feeling my outfit that night!" Chan protests, trying to defend himself, sounding slightly breathless as he rubs violently at his temples. "I thought you all would appreciate it!"

"Appreciate it?!" Jisung screeches, making Changbin jump in surprise beside him. He eyes the exasperated alpha beside you wildly. "Of course we appreciated it! We appreciated it so much that it threw everyone into absolute fucking chaos, hyung!"

Seungmin is nodding sagely. "I wasn't even home, but I could hear the screams from the lab."

"Oh my god." Chan repeats again, pinching the bridge of his nose now in a show of helpless exhaustion.

"I immediately saved those selfies, just so you know." Hyunjin says casually, keeping the head alpha locked in the focus of his sharp gaze. "Amazing jacking off material."

Jisung nods beside him in hearty agreement, the picture of utmost seriousness. "Incredible."

"Disgusting." Minho remarks, though there's no bite to his words, as he scrolls through his phone, as if he's not even the slightest bit interested in this conversation.

"Oh, you're one to talk, hyung." Jeongin speaks up, pointing an accusing finger at Minho, ignoring the murderous stare the other sends his way. "Convenient that you had to "shower" right after hyung sent those pictures. And what did you need Binnie-hyung for, hm? Couldn't open the shampoo bottle on your own?"

"Not another word, Yang Jeongin."

Jeongin smirks smugly and sits back in the couch, thoroughly pleased with himself.

Changbin shrugs. "Was a great night for me though. I'm not complaining."

"Dammit, and I wasn't invited?!" Jisung exclaims, clearly pouting.

"You were too busy spamming 'daddy?' messages in the group chat, so no."

"Fuck."

"But like-" You point to the photos again. "-Can we just talk about the handcuffs? Cause what the actual fuck was that, Christopher?"

Chan sighs and shrugs helplessly. "A design choice?"

"Between who?" Hyunjin scoffs, rolling his eyes, clearly skeptical. "You and the actual devil?"

"Or me and my bedposts." You suggest slyly, shooting Chan a smirk, even as the tips of his ears burn a bright red.

"Also the strategic rips?" Felix adds, his voice slightly hysterical. "Like, we all know that was on purpose. Same thing with the manspreading."

"God." Jisung swears low under his breath, eyes sweeping first over the pictures and then the head alpha in question hungrily. "The thighs, man. Makes me salivate just looking at them."

"I can't do this-" Chan sighs beneath his breath, making a move to rise from his chair.

You stop him with fingers around his wrist.

"No way, jose. You put us through this, you're gonna deal with the consequences of your actions. Sit your ass back down."

Chan sits, albeit reluctantly, gritting his teeth.

"Was fun to leave bruises all over those thighs, I'll be honest." Hyunjin remarks casually, but his gaze is predatory now. "Just as a little reminder, for the next time."

"Very fun." You agree, leaning over to tap your finger gently against Chan's very pink ear. "Where are those handcuffs, Channie? Do you know? Think you could find them?"

Chan swallows, hard enough to be heard by everyone in the room.

Hyunjin grins, baring his sharp teeth.

"Oh, I know right where they are."

[grudgecollector]

late night adventures | paul

Pairing: Paul / Gender neutral Reader - Background poly!tlb / reader

Story Summary: It’s 3am and Paul wakes you up to ask if you would like to go on a ride. 

Words: 3k

Tags/Warnings: Everyone lives and is happy AU, Fluff... so much fluff, reader is ticklish, food, Paul's reckless driving, drug use (weed)

A/N: I’d like to give a special thanks to @cherry-vamps​ for thrusting this story idea into my head, thank you so much. 

REQUEST INFO | MY LOST BOYS MASTERLIST

please read my request info and check my bio before sending in any requests! 

It was late, you knew that as you were jostled from your dream filled sleep. A whisper of your name floats through the air above you, causing you to bury your head deeper into your pillow, attempting to fall back asleep even as you feel his hand shake your shoulder. 

You let out a tired sigh when you feel the bed dip underneath Paul’s weight as he floats down behind you. His breath tickled against the back of your neck as he whispered your name again. 

His hand was freezing cold as he slid it across your waist where your shirt had ridden up, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms and legs. You shiver, trying harder to push him away in your sleepy haze, but with his arm now secured around your stomach he hardly budged.  

“Come get food with me.” He mutters, his chin laying on your shoulder. “I’m hungry.” 

Paul’s constant cold touches helped to keep you from falling back asleep, eventually making you crack your eyes open and send him a halfhearted glare. 

“What?” You responded in a whisper, still half asleep. 

“Ride with me to McDonald’s, I’m hungry.” 

“Wh- Paul it’s like…” You roll closer to the edge of the mattress to reach for your wristwatch that was laying on the nightstand, you squinted at the small red numbers “It’s 3am. No.” 

He nods against your shoulder “Yeah. You’ve been asleep for so long and I’m bored.” He pokes your side “Please?” His fingers begin to wiggle against your waist making you flinch with a quiet gasp. 

“Oh my god-” You try to push his hand away from you, but your efforts are futile against his strength, “Paul fu- fuck off!” You couldn’t stop the fit of laughter bursting from your mouth. You curl into yourself, flipping more on to your back trying to shield yourself from his hand. 

Paul leans over you with a grin plastered to his face as he begins attacking both sides of your ribcage, forcing even more hysterical laughter out of you. 

“What?” He laughs, “You seriously can’t hear those hash browns calling your name? Cause I sure can!” Paul’s hands finally come to a stop, allowing you to catch your breath.

He sits up on the mattress and crosses his legs, lightly drumming his hands against his legs as he looks down at you expectantly. 

You roll your eyes, not able to hold back your smile as you say “Ugh, fine we can go.” 

“Yes!” He pumps his fist triumphantly in front of his face before climbing over you and off the mattress. 

Not long after, you’re sitting up and dropping your feet onto one of the many rugs that decorate the floor of your dimly lit nest. Stretching your arms over your head with a strangled groan, rubbing your eyes, and yawning before finally standing up. 

Luckily the fire from the barrels outside allowed enough visibility so you could easily find your pants and jacket. They were laying on the back of an old green velvet chair in the corner of your nest that served you well as a catch all for clothes, magazines, and blankets. 

A minute or two passed before Paul pushed aside the bead and lace curtains that separated your nest from the rest of the open cave.

“You ready to head out?” He asks, spinning the keys to his bike around on his index finger, clinking pleasantly together. 

“You’re evil, you know that right?” You jokingly ask as you slip your arms through the sleeves of your jacket. 

Paul chuckles, “Oh you won’t be sayin’ that once we get this McMuffin.” He points at you, watching as you lace up your boots, “Just you wait, you’re gonna be thanking me for this one.” He smirks when you hum sarcastically. 

You follow him out into the main room of the cave, and towards the sitting area where the rest of the boys are sitting so he could grab his jacket. 

Marko and Dwayne were sitting next to each other on the couch, David was walking on the edge of the fountain while smoking a cigarette, and you could hear Star and Michael talking to each other behind the curtains of her nest, Blondie quietly playing on her radio. 

“You crazy kids don’t get into much trouble alright?” Marko jokes, looking up from where he was sewing a new patch onto his jacket. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do and all that shit.” 

Dwayne snorts, and David says “There isn’t much you wouldn’t do, Marko.” 

“Exactly.” The curly haired vampire smirks. 

“You guys have fun.” Dwayne says, grabbing your hand and squeezing it softly before Paul starts pulling you by your other hand towards the entrance of the cave. 

“We will. Love you guys!” You wave at them before walking up the steep incline and into the tunnel. 

—

The wind whips against your face, bringing a chill to your cheeks as Paul drives a little faster when he turns onto a two lane road. You could hear his laughter travel with the wind over the loud purr of the engine as he weaved past a few cars, barely missing a stop light just as it turned red. 

The roads were almost completely illuminated by the fluorescent lights coming from stores and roadside signs. Advertising sketchy motels, empty convenient stores, overpriced gas stations, and diners that are on their last legs. All of it gives you a sense of comfort and nostalgia. Whether it’s the memory of late night drives with your family when you were a kid or with the boys throughout your relationship with them. 

A car honked loudly when Paul passed them causing you to look back and wave, unable to mask your amusement. 

“You are such an asshole.” You say loud enough for him to hear.

You feel Paul laugh rather than hear it this time “Sorry babe I’m, like, full on tunnel visioned right now!” He glances over his shoulder, grinning at you. 

You remember how scared you were the first few times you rode with the boys, especially Paul and Marko. It still amazes you how easily you were able to become used to their recklessness. You assumed it was from trust, and the knowledge that they definitely could not afford to get into a wreck. 

Paul turned the corner sharply and in the distance you could see the glowing golden arches of the McDonald’s sign. It was the same one you would all frequently pass if the boys decided to take the roads back to the cave rather than their usual shortcuts. 

“Hold on tight!” Paul yells as he turns into an empty shopping center parking lot so he can avoid the cars stopped at a red light. 

You squeeze your arms tighter around his middle. Unable to stop the little giggles that slip from your lips when your stomach flips when he drives up a small hill. The bike’s tires lift up off the ground just a bit, landing gracefully just a few feet away from the entrance to your destination’s parking lot. 

Paul stops in the parking spot closest to the doors and shuts off the engine, letting you slip off the back before putting down the kickstand.  

“God, feels like my stomach is fuckin’ eating itself.” Paul stretches his arms over his head, shifting from one foot to the other. “Let’s go.” He smiles when grabbing your hand and tugs you towards the doors.

The inside was pretty empty, a table by the windows had two people sitting across from each other, and one of the booths was occupied by a group of four. A tired looking employee bopped their head as they swept the floor, adjusting the headphones to their walkman on their head right before they fell off. 

Paul and you walked over to the counter where an older looking man stood, you could see a few other employees walking around in the kitchen. 

“What'll it be?” The man asked. 

Paul drummed his fingers against the counter as he ordered two sausage McMuffins with egg, hotcakes, and two hash browns to go. The man behind the counter nodded along as he typed loudly on the cash register. 

“That’ll be $3.99.” 

You start going for your wallet, but Paul stopped you just before your hand dipped into your jacket pocket. You furrow your brows, smiling a little as he looks over his shoulder and says,

“Don’t worry babe…” He digs through his front pocket of his pants and pulls out a crumpled five dollar bill, “I got this one.” He winks at you before handing the money to the man. 

Luckily the wait wasn’t too long before the bag with your food was being placed on the counter and the man behind it was wishing you both a goodnight. Paul grabs it and does a two finger salute before you’re both walking towards the exit.

The bag was dropped next to the wheel of Paul’s bike as he sat down on the curb, humming the tune of a Van Halen song as he pulled out the two McMuffins. One was handed to you once you sat down next to him. You stretch your legs out in front of you, knocking your boots together as you unwrap it. 

Paul takes a bite of his own while leaning back on one hand so he can stare up at the blank sky, the stars washed out by the lights. 

There were more cars on the road now that it neared 4am, most people either driving to work, driving home from bars or clubs, or maybe they were doing the same thing Paul and you were doing.

Paul practically moans as he takes another bite, “This shit is so fucking good.” He tilts his head to the side to look at you, a closed lip smile on his face, “It’s good isn’t it?” He smirks while poking your side twice. 

You playfully smack his hand away, “Stop it.” You laugh, smiling softly “Yeah it’s pretty good. I *guess* I can forgive you for waking me up.” 

“Aww, how sweet of you.” He snorts, taking one last bite of his McMuffin. 

“Wait-” You swallow, “I do have a question though.” Paul hums signaling for you to ask, “How did you even get money? I thought you spent the rest of yours on that Ozzy album.” 

“Oh, I harassed David for it.” Paul nods, wiping his hands off on his pants, “He was like ‘You better pay me back’, yeah right, man.” He chuckles while fishing through the bag for his hash brown, “I’m kidding, I’ll *probably* pay him back.”  He nudges his shoulder against yours while smirking. 

The both of you continued to eat your food quietly, listening to the sound of cars passing by. Some of them had their radios up loud enough to hear, and others had their windows down enough to hear the fits of laughter from inside

“Did David ever say anything about going to the boardwalk again tomorrow?” You ask Paul after taking one last bite of your shared hotcakes. 

Paul shrugs, “Not sure, Star’s supposed to be watching Laddie tomorrow night. Apparently the kid’s been begging her to take him to the drive-in, so we might go join ‘em.” He smiles, throwing the styrofoam to go plate back in the bag. 

“Oh right! They’re doing E.T. tomorrow, I remember Michael saying something about it yesterday.” You said, throwing your napkin into the bag, “Alright I’m ready to go whenever you are.” 

Paul stands up from the curb and grabs your hand, tugging you to your feet, landing a quick kiss on your cheek. 

You bend down to pick up the bag of trash and throw it into the garbage can near the door with an ashtray sitting atop it. 

“Any other adventures you plan to go on tonight, Paul?” You ask as you hold onto his shoulder and swing your leg over the back of his bike and sit down behind him. 

He looks back at you, “We could go skinny dipping.” wiggling his brows and smirking. 

You snort, shaking your head, “Yeah, not gonna happen. I’m not planning on freezing my ass off tonight.”

Paul holds up his hands in surrender, “Sorry, but you asked, sweetheart.” He chuckles before starting his bike and revving the engine. 

With your arms wrapped around his waist, he drives out of the parking lot and down the familiar streets, streets that eventually turn into narrow dirt roads surrounded by a thicket of trees. The smell of the ocean grew stronger, and finally the night sky was revealed to you once he drove into the clearing, allowing you to see the bright twinkling of stars above your head, no longer hidden away by the bright lights. 

Once the bike was parked and you were standing in front of Paul, you couldn’t help but smile. 

“Thanks for taking me out tonight.” You said, fixing a few unruly strands of hair that stuck themselves to Paul’s forehead and stubble, “It was nice.”

“No problem,” Paul said, tugging you closer by the waist and kissing you, “You still sure you don’t wanna go skinny dipping?” He whispers against your lips making you groan. 

“Oh my god, shut up.” You chuckle, shoving his shoulder lightly. 

“What?!” Paul laughs, “I just wanted to make sure!” He brings your hand up to his mouth and kisses your knuckles, smiling smugly at you.

“Yeah, yeah.” You hum sarcastically and tug him towards the stairs. 

—

“Looks like we missed the party.” Paul says, jumping down from the entrance with you. 

Everyone was still sitting in the lounge area passing a joint around, the song Soul Kitchen quietly playing from the rockbox. Star and Dwayne were sitting on the couch talking, while Michael, David, and Marko were playing cards together.

You walk past the three vampires to an empty seat next to the couch, making yourself comfortable and throwing your legs over the arm of the chair, noticing the barely concealed smirk on Marko’s lips.

Paul sauntered over to Dwayne and took the joint as it was offered to him. He takes a hit as he walks over to stand behind Michael and reaches over his shoulder, readjusting his cards for him.

“There you go, bud.” Paul winks when Michael looks up at him from his seat.

“Oh shit…” Michael blows an airy laugh from his mouth, glancing up at the others and triumphantly slapping his cards down on the small side table they were using. “Read it and weep, boys!”

“Paul, you piece of shit.” Marko groans, throwing his own cards down on the table. “I was winning that one.” 

“Well, clearly not.” Paul smiles, falling back on the couch between Star and Dwayne, handing the joint off to Star. 

David just chuckles deeply while lighting a cigarette and nudging Marko with his boots, making the smaller vampire roll his eyes. 

You watch Marko shuffle the cards so they could start a new game, glaring up at Michael as the cards slap together loudly. 

“Aw man, don’t get all mad at me.” Michael holds his hands up in defense, grinning. 

“I’m not holdin’ back this time, asshole.” Marko jabs a finger in his direction, quickly dealing the cards.

The whole cave echoed with laughter at Marko’s threat. 

The game went on silently as Dwayne continued his conversation with Star about classic black and white movies. Going on about which ones were terrible, which ones were decent, and which ones she needed to watch when she gets the chance. 

“Old noir films. Now that was the peak of cinema in the 40s.” David chimes into the conversation. “Detour… I remember seeing that with Marko, great flick.” 

“Nah man, nothing beats The Gorilla from the 30s.” Paul hums, his back almost completely laying on the cushions of the couch, “That film is the best shit I’ve seen next to Psycho.”

“The fuckin’ Ritz Brother’s movie?” Dwayne asks, laughing.

Paul nods, replying with a giggly “Yeah man. It’s amazing.” 

The conversation went on with the boys naming more and more obscure movie titles, arguing over which one was better. Nobody noticed when David laid his cards down with a cocky smirk. Well, until Marko let out a frustrated yell, slapping his cards down on the table and throwing his hands up in the air. 

“Poor Marko, always the sore loser.” David clicks his tongue against his teeth, looking at the fuming blonde through his lashes as he ashes his second cigarette. 

Marko scoffs, rolling his eyes “Oh shut up, David. You got lucky.” 

You look up when Paul enters your line of sight, holding his hand out as he swayed a little from side to side. 

“You ready to hit the sack?” He asks, unable to wipe the stoned smile off of his face. 

You slip your hand into his, letting him gently pull you from your seat and guide you over towards your nest. He pushes back the curtains and walks you into the small room towards your bed.

You couldn’t deny the drowsiness that was beginning to tug at your eyelids. You guessed an eventful night with only a few hours of sleep would do that to a person. 

Paul’s hand moves up from your hand to your cheek, gently cupping it before kissing you softly on the lips. 

“Will you actually let me sleep now?” You jokingly ask once he pulls away. 

“Mm… Maybe.” He hums, tilting his head. 

Paul doesn’t let go of your hand even when you're fully underneath the covers. He leans down and kisses you on the forehead, his hair falling over his shoulder and onto your face. 

“Oh oops,” He grins, “You want me to tuck you in and read you a story?” He teases, putting on a baby voice. 

“Goodnight Paul.” 

“Okay, goodnight.” Paul giggles, finally dropping your hand once he walks far enough away and pulls the curtains aside, leaving you to finally sleep.

[h0rnyshakespeare]

i just wanna know how offended would the mha characters be when asked a deez nuts joke or a "reverse the word" joke, my grammar is a joke

Them reacting to ‘deez nuts’ and reversed word jokes

A/N: So I wasn’t really sure what reversed word jokes were, I looked it up and this is what I found so I hope it’s accurate😅relationship not specified btw!

“Hey Izu?”

“Yeah Y/N?”

“I heard you knew Dee.”

“Huh? Dee who?”

“Deez nuts!”

Midoriya would look at you like huh😃?? while you laugh at your own joke. While he isn’t completely oblivious to internet jokes (he can thank you and Kaminari for that), he hasn’t heard this one yet and he’d prolly wait til you stop cackling to ask you what it means. When you show him the video he lets out a sigh. There was no getting rid of you and your endless jokes.

“Katsuki, what do you call a parade of rabbits hopping backwards?”

“Hah? I don’t freaking know. Stop wasting my time, dumbass.”

“A receding hareline.”

Bakugou would be so pissed as you burst into giggles at the look on his face.

“Don’t look so angry, Katsuki, you’re gonna age early. You wouldn’t want a receding hairline now, do you?”

“Stop laughing, dammit, That was a really shitty joke.”

“I know, but you were caught so off guard💀”

“No more internet for you and dunce face.”

“Jirou, never spell part backwards… it’s a trap.”

She’d just look at you like T-T, being used to this already.

“Come on, you gotta admit that one wasn’t that bad.”

“It was terrible, where do you even get these?”

“Ouch, my feelings. You just insulted me and the rest of the internet.”

“Good. Now let me write this song in peace.”

She doesn’t trust anything that comes out of your mouth anymore.

“Kiri!”

“Y/N”

“What’s 4 x 2?”

“Uhh eight, why?”

You look at him, the smirk on your face hitting him with dread.

“Wait Y/N no-”

“Eight deez nuts!” you say, complete with finger guns. Kirishima groans as you continue smirking.

“I totally got you.”

He chuckles in response. “Yeah, yeah. That’s enough for today though, alright?”

“Todo, wanna hear something?”

He sets down his manga, looking at you politely.

“What happens when you see a dog walking backwards?”

“I’ve never seen one walk backwards before.”

“…you see god.”

Todoroki looks at you blankly as you snicker at his expression. The best part is he really thinks you’re telling the truth. “I will?” he asks, eyes widening slightly. You stifle your giggles with your hand. “Sure. We can go look for one together.” He nods seriously. “Ok.”

“Hey Ochako, is it crazy how saying sentences backwards create backwards sentences saying how crazy it is?”

Her: 0.0

You: 0.0

Her: 0.0

You: 0.0

Her: 0.0

You: …you didn’t get it, did you?

Her: I didn’t get it.

In the end, the two of you laugh over Ochako’s obliviousness rather than the actual joke. (“The sentence was too long to understand, Y/N!”)

“Hey, Iida, I’m sorry that Suko never called you back.” “Who might Suko be, Y/N?” “SUKON DEEZ NUTS”

“Y/N THAT IS EXTREMELY INAPPROPRIATE AND AS CLASS PRESIDENT I WILL NOT CONDONE THIS KIND OF BEHAVIOR-”

Oh boy. You know you’re in for it when you pull this kind of joke on Iida, but it’s entertaining to watch him get so worked up over something so small💀 He proceeds to give you a 30 minute lecture (complete with a PowerPoint) on why it’s never a good idea to stay on the internet for too long and that making these kind of jokes is not ‘school-appropriate’.

“Denki!”

“Y/N, what’s up?”

”Did you get the CDs?”

“What CDs?”

“See deez-”

“-nuts in your face!”

he finishes your sentence as you both wheeze. If you make deez nuts jokes you know you’re already Denki’s best friend. As soon as you tell him one, he shoots another right back at you, sending the both of you into hysterics as the rest of the class sighs and watches the chaotic duo of class 1-A.

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ prompt: a kid appears in the past, claiming to be yours.

♡ pairing: jon kent (superboy) x fem reader

♡ lyric inspiration: “I will follow you way down, wherever you may go. I will follow you down, to your deepest lows. I will always be around to wherever life takes you. You know I’ll follow you.” 

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes 

✨  you were walking in with Damian, blabbering about something that he could have cared less about as you approached Jon. the two of them had to head over to the Batcave to talk about a mission that went sideways a few days ago and you were too bored to not tag along with them. 

✨  while you weren’t much of an active hero, you did get called in from time to time to help the Titans or Jon when they needed it, so it wasn’t a secret to you about their identities. Jon more than Damian was more opened to tell you who he actually was and you found comfort in the idea that he trusted you that much baggage. 

✨  “what are we gonna do later? i’m not really in the mood to be going home. everyone has been getting on my nerves lately.” you asked the pair. Damian rolled his eyes as Jon smiled, “you can watch movies back at my place! i’m sure my dad wont mind,” he said with a small blush. 

✨  Damian wanted to groan, feeling the strong sense to cringe at Jon’s foolish attempt to ask you out on a date. you agreed, hugging the taller boy as he fell stiff at the touch. Damian groaned but this time out loud. you gave him a look before dismissing him. 

✨  all of you arrived to the cave, greeting Alfred before heading down to the cage. you had offered to make yourself and the boys coffee while they talked in the cave. Alfred was making small conversation about how your day was and if Damian was doing alright in school. while he knew Damian was smart, he knew in social settings, he wasn’t the greatest. 

✨  finally, you finished making all of their coffee’s and put them on a tray before heading downstairs. you heard noise from the top of the stairs and being careful with the coffee, you zoomed downstairs to try and figure out what was going on. you set the coffee on the small table outside of the cave and opened the door to see Jon and Damian basically fighting someone around the cave. 

✨  you looked at the girl, who looked no older than nineteen, trying to save her own ass as her eyes gleamed red. once you caught her attention, she immediately ran to you, “MOM! THANK GOD!” she yelled. Jon without hesitation ran to protect you but the girl beat him to you and engulfed you in a hug. 

✨  “first off, I’m not your mother and I have no idea who the hell you are,” you screamed as Jon and Damian took her off you. Damian restrained her as you and Jon looked at her, “who are you and who/what sent you here,” Damian threatened as he took the pocket knife he had in his sock and put it against her throat.

✨  “I’m Lois Kent, daughter of ( your name ) and Jon Kent,” you looked at Jon before you started laughing hysterically. you tried to calm yourself down as Lois continued to explain herself, “I’m from years into the future. I was sent back in an accident by Uncle Damian and my dad,” she yelled, trying to get Damian to release her. 

✨  Jon, who had yet to speak word, bent down to her height, “why should we believe you? you very well could have known our identities and made up a stories to ambush us,” Jon said. “run a DNA test if you’re so concerned,” she replied. you gave Damian and Jon a look as Damian asked you to grab her while he called his dad and even Clark to come down to the cave. 

✨  “we can start on the DNA before our dads get here but until then, you’ll be restrained to the chair until we get the results,” Damian practically spat as he grabbed ropes and cords before sitting her down on Tim’s computer chair, “you have a lot of nerve making up such a story,” Jon whispered to her as she groaned, “you make up some crazy story pretending to be our kid and even giving yourself my mothers name to make it even more believable.” 

✨  she sighed, “I’m not lying! I was working on a project with Uncle Damian and you when Uncle Damian accidentally opened up a portal that sucked me back into the past,” she explained, “you named me after grandma because you always said you’d name your first daughter after her.” Jon remained silent, knowing what shew as saying was true. Jon, years ago, made a pact that he would name his daughter, if he had the opportunity to have one, to name her after his mom. 

✨  “and why should we believe you? outside of the DNA test, how can you prove that,” you said walking up to the both of them. she sighed, happy that she was no longer getting lectured by Jon, “I know that you asked mom out after a movie date. the song both of you claim to be ‘your song’ is ‘Follow You’ by Imagine Dragons and that you used to sing it to me as a baby,” she confessed. 

✨  you immediately looked to Jon and stood in disbelief. both you and Jon loved that song and always sang it whenever he picked you up to hang out. “dad always tells me that he always thought you were too good for him and that you deserved to be with someone else but you always end up smacking him in the back of the head when he says that. plus, you always said that you love his small accent,” she continued. 

✨  before you say anything, Damian grabbed three small tubes and asked all of you to spit in them. Damian watched the three of you spit in the tubes and in the back of his mind, he could start to see the similarities in Lois’ facial features and they looked eerily reminiscent to you and Jon combined.  

✨  “our dads should be here soon but until then, don’t make a move!” he yelled before moving back to lab and computers. you sat next to Lois as Jon continued to question her, “how old are you?” you asked her, “seventeen. you guys always say i look older than i am. say, since I’m in the past, how old are you guys?” she asked. you looked to Jon, “we’re also seventeen but we’re not saying anything else,” you stated. 

✨  finally, Clark and Bruce walked in, pure panic written on their faces. Clark and Bruce saw the three of you sitting down together and almost immediately, Clark could sense she was a Kent. given, she looked like both you and Jon, she did have some facial features that looked like Lois. 

✨  “have you ran a test? Bruce asked Damian. he nodded as he showed the three tubes on the table as the spit was being ran through the system, “she claims that her name is Lois. named after his mom,” Damian murmured. Clark felt the pang in his chest. if the DNA test rang positive that she was your kid, he felt proud that Jon named his daughter after his mom. 

✨  you got up from your chair and grabbed the coffees from the table outside, “here, the coffee was supposed to be Damian’s but I’m sure you could use some,” you offered it as you held the cup in front of her with a straw sticking out. Lois smiled, taking a sip, “it’s nice seeing both of you so young. dad always says both of you had me so young but he doesn’t regret a single thing,” you gave her a look, “how young do you claim we had you?” you asked. 

✨  Lois laughed, “well, if you’re seventeen now, expect me to be here when you’re both nineteen.” Jon let out a belting laugh as you stood in your chair mortified at the answer, “nineteen? that’s two years from now!” you whispered to yourself, “I mean, both of you are already married by then,” she continued to say. 

✨  Jon now stood mortified what she was saying. he hadn’t even confessed his feelings to you yet and two years from now, both of you were married with a kid on the way? as you both were talking to her, the results pinged up on the screen, alerting Bruce, Clark, and Damian. 

✨  the three of them looked at the screen in surprise. she was telling you the truth. the DNA matched closest to you and Jon. Clark couldn’t even lie to himself, seeing his feature granddaughter made him emotional. she looked happy, healthy, and beautiful. he was glad Jon had chosen you to be his wife. he always thought you were the perfect fit for his son. 

✨  “the results are in,” Damian screamed to the three of you. you looked to Jon in nervousness, “you’re the parents,” Damian said, now a bit more seriously. Jon looked at you as you had tears in your eyes, “you’re our first daughter?” you whispered to her as Lois now had watery eyes and nodded in agreement. 

✨  Clark walked over and smiled at the three of you as Lois perked up, “grandpa!” she yelled as you started to untie her. as soon as she was let free, she engulfed the three of you and smiled, “it’s weird seeing all three of you so...young!” she repeated. you smiled, “say, that’s Uncle Damian right?” she asked. you nodded as she released all of you.

✨  “GODFATHER!” she yelled, running to Damian. Damian flinched as he heard the name. Bruce couldn’t help but start laughing. he never imagined Damian getting such a title.....like ever. “do you think we’ll have to try and send her back or do you think future us will do that?” Jon asked his dad. “I’m sure all of you in the future are going to figure that out. until then, I guess enjoy time with your daughter?” 

✨  you walked over to Lois, “well, we should get you something to eat. Bruce mentioned that Alfred finished cooking dinner so I guess as parents, you need to eat,” Lois agreed as she walked over to Jon, “weird that they have kids,” Damian said, “don’t forget you’re her godfather,” Bruce mentioned. Clark laughed at the banter as they followed you three. 

✨  over the course of dinner, Lois kept mentioning small parts of her childhood and how all of you turned out. Damian had a kid but had yet to marry the woman with whom he had them with. Bruce as well had found someone down the line to marry and had one more kid after Damian. 

✨  after the dinner, all of you landed in the living room, trying to figure out a way to get Lois back home but within those few minutes, the same portal that brought Lois into the past reappeared. you and Jon stood up immediately, grabbing Lois and putting her behind the two of you. 

✨  three figures stepped out. the future you, Jon, and Damian. all of you were much older than you were now but as soon as your future self saw Lois, you ran to her and engulfed her with a sigh of relief, “I swear I’m never gonna let you do any experiments with Damian and your dad,” you whispered as future Jon and Damian stared at their younger selves. 

✨  “hey dad,” future Damian and Jon said nervously. the two of them shook their heads in disbelief as they gave them slight head nods before leaving before it got any weirder. Jon looked to his younger self, “have you asked her out yet?” he asked. young Jon shook his head no, “don’t worry kid, you will. I’m sure she told you already but don’t worry, life gets so much better with her,” older Jon said as he looked to you and Lois. 

✨  your older version looked to you and smiled, “the movie date both of you have is one you won’t ever forget. trust me, Lois and Jon are the best thing to happen to us. just don’t be scared when you get surprises in a few years,” you joked as you took Jon and Lois’ hand. 

✨  Damian had been staring down his older self down, probably judging and figuring out ways he could improve himself now so he wouldn’t look like that in the future. Lois gave you and Jon a hug, “I’ll miss you guys but like I said, we’ll see each other soon,” she whispered as you nodded and tightened the hug. 

✨  the four of them walked back into the portal as Damian sat down on the couch with relief, “well, don’t yall have that movie night to get too?” Damian said grabbing the remote and insinuating to get out of his house. you flipped him the middle finger as you grabbed your backpack, “you still wanna?” you asked Jon. 

✨  Jon nodded, “of course, we can pick up dinner on the way,” Jon said as he stared at you with heart eyes. now that he saw the future that was ahead of him, he knew this ‘movie night’ he asked you on was a major point in both of your lives and he didn’t want to miss it.

✨  after telling Damian goodbye, Jon grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it, “horror? or comedy?” he asked softly, “horror!” you said back excitedly. 

[navegandoaciegas]

A long way

Kinktober 7/31: creampie

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: trucker!bucky, hitchhiking, smut, explicit language, unprotected sex, creampie, biting, hair pulling, one slap on the face, oral sex, alcohol consumption, degradading praise kink.

Summary: A broody and rough truck driver stops for you when no one else does. What happens when you spend a few days together?

A/N: day 7 of @itgetsdarksometimes35 spooky challenge + Kinktober. Thank you @buckycuddlebuddy for inspiring this and helping me out, ily baby!

You suppose he’s a nice guy under all the brooding, frowning, glaring; there must be some gentleness buried underneath all the roughness, some kindness hiding behind his steely eyes.

He’s got a hard exterior for sure, with his burly body and intricate tattoos, but he’s the only one who’s pulled over for you, all soaked, crying and alone on the side of the road, while other drivers sped past you, hitting potholes and splashing even more water and mud over you.

You have to admit, you would have done the same, because who the hell stops for hitchhikers in the middle of a thunderstorm? Bucky the trucker, apparently. At the same time, who in their right mind hitchhikes in the 21st century? Someone desperate enough. You.

The 70s and the Santa Rosa murders haven’t taught either of you much, it seems.

So either he’s a serial killer, or a sullen good samaritan.

“I’m gonna pull over in a couple miles, I need to rest a little.” he announces, voice flat, tightly gripping the steering wheel of his truck.

You have a feeling he doesn’t particularly like you. Nothing specific about you, just that you’re in his space, in his clothes, breathing his same air, and he can’t sulk on his own like he’s probably used to.

“It’s okay for me.” you mumble, fidgeting with the sleeves of his thick, grey sweatshirt. It wasn’t a question, but what else were you supposed to say?

He doesn’t acknowledge you.

Despite his murderous looks and apparent annoyance, you trust your gut feeling.

The guy could split your skull in half like a pistachio, but he doesn’t seem like he’ll actually go through with it, unless you change the frequency of that radio channel he’s listening to, or move around the pictures on his dashboard. Both of which you don’t intend on doing.

You observe his side profile, the delicate slope on his nose, chiselled jawline, high cheekbones, buzz cut chestnut hair, the tattoos snaking from his arm to the side of his neck, ending just below his ear.

He’s hot and menacing, and the idea that he could bang you like a screen door in a hurricane and kill you with his bare hands makes a shiver go down your spine and straight to your core.

You squirm in your seat, clenching your thighs, cursing you and your horny brain for the dirty images you’ve conveyed.

“You alright there, sugar?” he asks, and you think you see a little smirk dancing on his plush lips, “You seem a little bothered.”

The endearing name and the teasing are a new development, one that you don’t mind.

“Never been better.” you grumble, shooting him a glare of your own.

10 hours in his truck, and his mannerism is rubbing off on you already.

-

It’s a long way from Oregon to Florida when you have no money on you and you depend on a trucker’s route, a trucker you’ve been bickering and flirting with for hours.

45 hours later, you find yourself at a truck stop a long way from home, your feet propped against the dashboard, the seat reclined slightly.

It’s not the best setting, you’ll be honest with yourself.

Take out containers are littered around you, and Bucky keeps digging in the fries propped on your lap. You smile lazily at him, tipsy but still conscious on your second beer.

45 hours together is a long time when you spend it with the same person, in a small space. He’s still brooding, just looser. And drunker.

“So I said, fuck you and that two faced bitch, and spilled a wine bottle on his suit.” you hiccup, a hysterical laugh bubbling in your throat, “Red fuckin’ wine.”

Well, maybe you’re not as sober as you thought.

“No way.” he deadpans, taking a sip out of his beer. “Is that why you looked like a drowned rat hitchhiking in the middle of the night?”

“Mean, but yes. That cheating asshole. I hope his dick falls off. Not like he knew how to use it anyways.”

That seems to catch his attention.

“He didn’t?” he hums thoughtfully, with all the seriousness a drunk man can muster.

“He never got me off. Had to lock myself in the bathroom and do it myself.” you slur, “Never ate my pussy either.”

“God, suga’, that sounds tragic.”

Your lips twist in a disgusted expression, but you giggle when a thought stikes you.

“What about you? When was the last time you got any?”

He winces when he thinks about it, the frown on his forehead permanently etched there.

“A while ago.”

It’s silent for a moment, and maybe it’s the sexual tension that’s been building for a while, or the heat in his steely eyes, but you feel yourself grow warmer.

Your itch to touch him, taste him, feel him inside you. On your tongue, in your cunt, everywhere.

“Tragic.” you mumble, eyes boring into his.

It’s a rebound, or maybe it’s just that he’s hot and you’re both adults who can do whatever the hell you want.

It doesn’t make sense, the way you jump on him, slanting your mouth against his like you’ve never done before. The way his lips mold against yours, his tongue moves in sync with you, his hands on your body leave you feeling scorched. Your clothes and his sweater are discarded somewhere.

He tastes like beer, and tobacco, and his beard grazes against your skin, making you feel ticklish and giddy.

You’re drunk, and not on alcohol.

His touch is bruising, possessive, controlling. His teeth bite on your skin, he pulls on your hair, kneads the flesh of your ass, rolls and pinches your nipples.

Rough, just like him, and if the slick leaking out of you is any indication, you like that a lot.

“I’ll fuck you all the way to Florida babygirl, fuck you so good you never want to leave this fuckin’ truck.”

It’s embarrassing the way you’re panting, debauched already. Heat is pooling in your lower belly, and you want nothing more than for him to go feral on you.

“God, Bucky, I need you so much, need you inside me.” you whine, palming his cock through his denim jeans, feeling how hard and throbbing he is for you.

“Fuck.” he groans, quickly undoing your belt, freeing his cock.

It springs out of his briefs, standing against his stomach. He’s thick, and leaking with pre cum.

You bite your lips, shooting him a mischievous smile as you lower your face to his groin, ready to suck him off.

“No, I want to be inside you now.”

He grabs underneath your arms and lifts you up, maneuvering so that you’re straddling his lap.

You’re tipsy, about to let a man you barely know raw you in his truck, surrounded by containers of junk food.

It’s trashy, maybe, but who cares. Fuck trashy, and fuck your ex too.

You feel like all your breath has been knocked out of you when he pushes inside you, his cock stretching you out almost painfully.

“Fuck, you’re so big.” you whimper, steadying yourself on his broad chest, nails mapping out the outline of his tattoos.

“God baby, you’re so tight, I can feel that pretty pussy of yours squeezing me.” he moans, hands tightly gripping your hips, “Why don’t you show me how good you can ride my cock, yes?”

You grind yourself on his groin, rolling your hips in circular motion, feeling his cock hit all the sweet spots inside you. He suckles on your nipples, sending shivers down your spine.

Your pussy flutters around him, clamping down hard each time a wave of pleasure hits you.

“Look how good you’re doing, taking my cock so well like the little dumb slut you are baby.” he grunts, and his words shoot straight to your cunt, “Pretty cockdrunk whore, aren’t ya?”

You feel lightheaded.

Bouncing your ass up and down his cock, you feel yourself get closer.

“Fuck Buck- I’m-”

He cuts you off, swallowing your moans as you cum.

Your body shakes, your head spins and every nerve ending on your body is on fire, but he doesn’t give you time to come down from your high.

You slump against his bare chest, and he starts pounding inside you, holding your waist.

He pummels into your abused cunt, pulling one orgasm after the other out of you, until you’re sobbing. His sweaty skin slaps against yours, his balls against your ass. It’s so lewd it’s driving you crazy.

Tears and drool stream down your face.

“Look at you, messy girl, so eager for my cock. I can’t wait to fill you out with my cum baby, watch it drip out of your cunt.” he groans, balls getting tighter, thrusts messier. You feel him swell inside you. “I bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Being filled with my cum to the brim.”

You’re lost in your own pleasure, and don’t answer until he slaps your face. Hard.

“Yes, please Bucky, I want you to fill my pussy, fuck-”

He bites down on your shoulder as he cums, painting your walls with his hot load as your pussy milks him dry.

“You did so good.” he hums, holding you close to his body as he comes down from his high, “Think you can give me one more?”

You nod, and lie on your back on the seats.

He watches entranced as his cum drips out of your cunt, and pushes it back inside with his fingers, smiling at the small noises you make.

He surprises you, latching his mouth around your swollen, overstimulated clit, sucking hard. He delves in your folds, circling his tongue on your bud, slurping up your juices and his, enjoying your taste mixing in with his as he keeps pumping his thick fingers inside you.

You’ve never felt this amount of pleasure before, and when you cum, your vision blacks out for several seconds, and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or just the best orgasm of your life.

You clamp down on his fingers, your release gushing on his mouth as the pressure in your cunt finally snaps.

He looks up at you, face covered in your slick.

“Don’t think I’m done with you baby.” he smirks, “I’ll never get enough of this sweet pussy.”

You grin, and pull him down on you, ready to start all over again.

It’s a long way to Florida, and you’re not sure you ever want to reach your destination, after all.

—-

Not proofread bc i like living on edge like that. Please leave some feedback!

You can add yourself to my taglist on my pinned post 💓

[elliesguitarstrings]

Waterproof

Masterlist

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Summary: Peter sees a joke tiktok about boobs being able to come off, and you try to see how far the joke can go.

Based off this tiktok:

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJvEv7MD/

A/N: I saw this tiktok this morning and idk why but I immediately thought of Peter and how he would totally believe it. I wrote this in about 15 mins during class because I was bored but I hope y’all enjoy.

Warnings: talking about boobs (in a non-sexual way), language

~~~~~~~~

You and Peter are hanging out in his bedroom after school, as you did every day. You were supposed to be studying for your chemistry test, but instead you two are just sitting on his bed, both of you mindlessly scrolling through tiktok.

It was fairly quiet, but not at all in an awkward way. Occasionally you show him a funny tiktok or he shows one to you, and you both chuckle, but other than that it was silent.

That is, until Peter yells, “WHAT THE FUCK?”

You can’t hear the tiktok, since he has his earbuds in, but you can obviously tell he was shocked. You look over at him, watching the same video over and over again, visibly confused.

“Show me the video, I wanna see!” you laugh, reaching for his phone.

You lunge at him across the bed, but he quickly hides his phone behind a pillow and presses his back against, making sure you can’t get to it.

“Peter, what’s the big deal? Just show me the video!”

He looks at you in horror, and you truly have no idea why. His eyes seem to scan up and down your body, still horrified, and for some reason, land right on your boobs.

Why the fuck would he be staring at your boobs? It’s not like he’s checking you out or anything, he looks completely disgusted.

“Peter, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Um, nothing?” he mumbles, still staring at your chest.

“Peter?”

No response, it’s as if he’s in some sort of trance.

“Peter?”

Still nothing.

“PETER PARKER! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU STARING AT MY BOOBS?”

He finally snaps out of it, looking you in the face. Wide-eyed and still in obvious shock (and you don’t have a single clue as to why) he gulps.

“Are you gonna answer my question?”

He immediately goes red in the face, seemingly finally realizing that he had just been staring at your tits for the past minute straight.

“Oh my god, oh my god, I’m so sorry. It’s just, um, the tiktok I just saw.”

“What?” you are still so confused.

Still red as a tomato, he looks down, avoiding your eyes, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Um, sure? Ask me anything,” you reply, still confused and at this point, a little concerned.

“Doyourboobscomeoff?” he mumbles.

Did you hear that right?

“What was that?”

“Do your – um – do your – um – boobs like – um – come off?”

Your first instinct is to burst out into laughter, but soon you realize he’s not joking. He seems to genuinely believe that your boobs are able to detach from your body.

When you are silent, he adds, “It’s just in the tiktok I just watched this girl was saying that she couldn’t take her boobs off to get in the shower and that they were stuck and that she couldn’t shower or else her boobs would get ruined and all the girls in the comments were agreeing and saying that they got waterproof ones so they didn’t have to take them off every time the get in the shower and stuff,” he rambles.

Jesus christ. This poor kid actually believes that girl’s boobs come off. Did he not learn anything in health class?

You should tell him the truth, that boobs do not, in fact, detach from the body. But instead, you decide to fuck with him a little bit to see just how much he would believe.

You stare him directly in the eyes, trying your best not to break.

“Okay Peter, don’t freak out, but yes, they do come off. I have to take them off when I get in the shower or else they will rot and get ruined and all shriveled up and gross. I should get waterproof ones but they are soooo expensive and well, you know I don’t have that kind of money.”

Peter is still in complete shock.

“Wait, so like, where do they go when you take them off? Do you have to take them off in the pool too? Are there like, just, holes on your chest where the boobs are supposed to go?”

You are trying so hard not to smile or laugh, “Well, most girls have a little bag to put them in, but I’m usually pretty lazy so sometimes I just put them on the bathroom counter so I can put them right back on after I dry off. And no, I don’t have to take them off in the pool, because my swimsuit covers them so they don’t get wet. And there aren’t holes in my chest, my chest looks just like yours, they just kinda latch on I guess.”

At this point, Peter completely believes you, and he actually seems really worried.

“Does- does it hurt when you take them off?”

You can’t hold it in anymore. You burst out into a fit of hysterical laughter, all while Peter stares at you, dumbfounded.

“Why are you laughing? This is serious, I’m genuinely concerned for your health!”

“Peter… you don’t seriously believe that my boobs come off do you?” you laugh breathlessly.

“Wait, what? You’ve been lying to me?”

“Of course I’ve been lying to you Peter! Why would you ever think that my boobs aren’t attached to my body?”

“Because you told me they weren’t!”

“You are so fucking dumb Parker,” you state, still chuckling.

Peter starts to smile, finally taking the joke, “I hate you so much Y/N.”

~~~~~~~~

Taglist (if you want to be added, removed, or changed on this taglist please comment or send in an ask!)

All: @pxkajesus @hollanddolanfangirl @roseke @agentsofparker @lifeasjazzz @damnrancidchicken @loopyolivia @iwannabekilledtwice @rafehogwarts @non-eexistent @rosiexx8 @nearlydanger9 @realityisabitch07 @midgardassassins @jbreenr @cap-marvxl @ellesmythe @deepestcolorgiantopera @that-one-person @clandestine-nerd @nevertrustapanda16 @ohabbyoh @rxmanxff @bubbleskz @quinn-spn58 @baby-pogue @strangebouquetqueen @aayaissaa @thatforgottenangel @pjmjams @tiredstudenttrinity @isabella-bby 

Peter Parker: @blizzardbabe

[batsandbugs]

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 5: Vent Shenanigans and Keurig Conversations

AN: Okay, this is the last that anyone is going to hear of me for two weeks. Then I’m out of school and will be ready to crank out some more chaos. Until then, I hope you guys enjoy!

Television shows made navigating through vents appear much easier than it was in real life. Then again, they also made being a superhero look easy too, and Marinette was painfully aware how that was false. 

Her knees and back ached from crawling through the low ceiling vents, and though she wasn’t claustrophobic, she was decidedly cramped. And if that’s how she felt, Damian, at more than half a foot taller, had to be doubly suffering. She asked how he was doing.

“I've crawled through far more pleasant vents before,” he replied seriously. “If we could continue quickly, we’ll come out near another vent gate in about ten or so minutes.”

They continued in silence until they came to a fork in the vent.

“Which way?” asked Marinette.

Damian hesitated. “I didn’t see this on the plans.”

“So, you don’t know.”  

“I did not say that.”

“So which way do we go?”

Silence.

Marinette sighed and closed her eyes, poking for the pooled energy inside herself. Being the Guardian of the Miraculous had helped her innate magic to grow in leaps and bounds, but it was her Ladybug powers she ultimately searched for. After being bonded with Tikki for so long, certain… qualities tended to bleed over. One such ability was making decisions infused with good luck. It wasn’t easy, but it was one she had been working hard to master.  

A glimmer of magic burned in her chest, and a fleeting whispered voice told her to turn left. She smiled in the dark of the vent.

“Left,” she said confidently, “we go left.”

“Why?”

Marinette’s smile turned into a smirk, even though Damian couldn’t see her. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to try.” The quickness made the reply appear casual, but Marinette could tell by the steel in his tone it told more truth than intended.

‘Who the hell did I team up with?’ her brain once again asked.

“Let’s leave me off the list,” she said, bypassing the dangerous remark with a gymnast's grace. “Come on.”

She crawled around the corner and, after only a moment’s hesitation, heard Damian follow after her.

Silence reigned for another minute or so before far in the distance they spotted light.

“Oh, thank the Kwamis, an exit,” Marinette muttered.

Damian grumbled behind her. “None of this appeared on the plans.”

“Learn to roll with the flow.” The light grew stronger, so she flicked off her phone flashlight. “Chances are it didn’t take your brothers too long to track me back to our hiding spot. They probably know we’re in the vents. If they found the same plan you did…”

“They won’t have any clue about this.” She could hear the pleased smirk in his voice.

“Exactly.”

The light flooded upwards from the vent floor. The slats in between large enough to view the room below. Marinette crawled over it and maneuvered herself around to face Damian.

“Nice to see your face again.”

The dim light from the vent illuminated his face. “N-Nice to see yours too,” he said. It was at that point, it dawned on Marinette that Damian's view the whole way through the vent was an up close look at her butt. From the heat radiating off her cheeks, it was likely her face was as red as his. She was torn between laughing hysterically and curling into mortified ball and never emerging.

Instead of either of those rational actions though, her mouth, her stupid, stupid mouth, decided to betray her.

“Enjoy the view?” she asked with a grin. ''What are you doing?' She yelled at herself, that was the last thing she wanted to utter.

Damian, if it was even possible, turned redder, and coughed lightly. “You have, uh, your bottom is quite shapely.” By the end of his confession, his voice was a high-pitched squeak, more appropriate for a preteen, then an adult. It took every bit of self-control for Marinette to keep from falling apart laughing.

“Thanks, I exercise,” she responded cheekily. A familiar magical hum settled in her breastbone. Her connection to the Kwamis magic. Marinette held back from rolling her eyes, even as her inner panic grew. One of the Kwamis was helping her to flirt. Probably Plagg judging by her cheesy replies.

‘They are the physical embodiments of the powers of the universe, and they choose to help me flirt. What even is my life?’

“It's working well,” replied Damian, with more of a teasing tone than an embarrassed one, although his cheeks still appeared redder than normal.

“Yeah, well…” Marinette sat there struggling for a reply, when noise from below cut off their impromptu flir- teasing session.

“I swear to God, if I find out who caused the mess in the Market Hall, I'll strangle them with my bare hands,” complained a voice from below.

Marinette winced when she saw Damian looking at her with a raised eyebrow. She hadn’t meant to cause that much damage.

“Oh, come on, Ian, it’s not like it was unscrewed on purpose. A bolt probably loosened and the shelf got bumped into. Blame it on bad luck.”

“Well, can I strangle bad luck then?”

Marinette held back an undainty snort. Plagg's constant whining and complaining coming to mind. ‘There I certain days I definitely want to.’

“I don’t think so. I’m more worried about the giant cart pile up.” At that, Damian raised a second eyebrow, and Marinette shrugged, she didn't controlled what the Bad Luck Balls did. “We’re gonna need to test all the carts to check for any more loose wheels, that’s gonna take forever. Anyway, are you headed home?”

“Yeah, I’m half an hour over the end of my shift,” responded Ian. Marinette could see two people moving around in the room below. “Ooh look, someone brought in doughnuts! You want one Casey?”

“No thanks, still trying to stay on that diet. I just came in here for a drink and then I’m back out on the floor.” The sound of a fridge door opened. “See you next week.”

“Yeah, you too Casey.”

The sound of another door opened leaving the room below silent once more.

“Shopping carts?” Damian asked, half-amused, and half bewildered. “I didn’t hear about that.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Escape was the highest priority, okay?”  

“When would you find the time to accomplish that?”

Marinette hesitated, there was no good explanation to give that would satisfy him. She wouldn’t tell him about the Miraculous or the Kwamis. It was her job, no her duty, to maintain their safety, and after everything she had fought for, bled for, nearly died for... no matter how comfortable he made her, there was no way he'd learn about what she could do. Especially when she had the feeling he was far more than meets the eye. Which didn’t leave much in the way of a good excuse for what she did and how.

Then, as if understanding Marinette’s great need for a distraction, their stomachs rumbled in unison. They looked at each other for a moment before laughing.

Marinette huffed, wiping away a tear of joy from her eye. “Okay, we need to find food to eat.”

Damian nodded. “The food court is a no go now; Drake will monitor it even more closely than before. We could find a vending machine?”

An idea popped into Marinette’s mind. “Or… how about the doughnuts?”

“Huh?”

She pointed down. “This is the breakroom. Ian mentioned doughnuts.”

“That would be stealing.”

“As opposed to the twenty other things we’ve stolen over the course of the past two hours?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “I can back pay those.”

“So, we’ll send them a box of doughnuts once we’ve won. I’m sure the IKEA employees will understand the doughnut's sacrifice to a worthy cause. Besides, breakrooms have coffee machines.”

Damian sneered. “Coffee from a machine will taste will taste like swill.”

“Didn't you say your brother dragged you out of bed at eight this morning? Coffee means caffeine, which means energy.”

He tilted his head and contemplated it for a moment. “Fair point.” He looked at the grate. “It’s probably a ten-foot drop. Can you handle that?”

Marinette had to refrain from rolling her eyes. She had free fallen off the Eiffel Tower before, she could handle a measly ten-foot drop. But Damian wasn't aware of any of that of course. “Yeah, I can do that.”

He dug into his pocket and pulled out the laser pen. “Back up, it’s going to get hot in here.”

Marinette averted her eyes while Damian cut the grate away with the laser, the heat making the metal vent shaft turn into a furnace. She wiped away at a bead of sweat forming at her brow. The grate gave way and clattered against the floor below. Damian put away the laser and gave her a quick smirk. He slipped his legs into the hole where the grate had been and jumped to the floor, landing with a soft thud.

Breathing a sigh of relief at finally leaving the cramped vent, Marinette maneuvered her legs to dangle over the vent opening and slid out, bracing herself for the landing.

But instead of meeting the floor, she found herself caught in mid-air. Damian had her in his grasp, holding her off the floor by a few inches with his strong arms snug around her waist. Their eyes caught and the air between them grew thick with tension. His bare hands brushed against a sliver of her exposed back, the contact sent shivers up her spine.

Neither of them breathed for a brief moment.

“I told you I could handle the drop,” Marinette said, her words barely above a whisper.

“I know.” Damian’s voice matched hers. The look in his eyes impossible to decipher. His arms tightened for a moment, before letting her slip-free.

Marinette smiled, resting her hands against his arms. “Thanks.”

Damian opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it. He stepped back, effectively breaking the bubble around them. Marinette pushed the rapid flutter in her chest away. She could deal with it later when she was far removed from crazy games of hide-and-seek, and dark-skinned boys who made her too comfortable to be safe.

She turned and looked around the room they had dropped into, finding it, thankfully, empty. The last thing they needed was security getting called on them. Spotting the counter with the box of doughnuts on it, Marinette smiled.

She walked over to the box. “Well, it’s no Parisian artisan pastries, but I suppose the chain-restaurant swill will suffice,” she teased, looking back over her shoulder at Damian.  

“Ha, ha, very funny,” he deadpanned. Heading over to the coffee machine to start a new pot. She turned her attention back to the box, the words Krispy Kreme printed on the front in large green letters, several doughnuts still inside.

“Which one do you want?” she asked.

“Anything with chocolate.”

“You have excellent taste.”

“I strive too.” That made Marinette smile. It was such a Chole-like response. She had to make sure never to introduce the two of them.

Marinette pulled out a few doughnuts and put them in the microwave. They would taste much better warm. After a few seconds, she brought the plate over to Damian staring at the ancient coffee machine with distaste.

“Here, you take this.” She pushed the plate of warm doughnuts into his hands. “And I’ll deal with this.” Grabbing a filter to place the pre-crushed coffee grounds into.

“Tt, why don’t they use a Keurig?” he asked with a sneer.

“Uh… because it’s a breakroom in an IKEA?” Marinette was shocked to find a breakroom at all. She’d figured employees would have to lean against the wall if they wanted a break, before being prodded into moving again by their superior. At least, she thought that was what Americans did.

Damian scoffed. “Everyone uses Keurig.”

“Even you, Mr. Machine coffee tastes like swill?”

“No, Alfred makes our coffee in the morning French press style. I do occasionally steal Drake’s Keurig out of his room when he hasn’t slept in four days to watch him cry though.”

“Damian!” she exclaimed.

“What? It’s for his own good. At that point he’s more likely to make a mistake, he needs sleep, not more caffeine.”

Marinette's thoughts flickered to her own Keurig she bought before she left Paris and the number of times she had played out the exact scenario Damian described. “Coffee is a lifestyle.” She grabbed two paper cups and placed one underneath the machine as the coffee dripped.

“It’s a crutch. Drake is a grown man, and he should, mlph-” Marinette cut him off by shoving a chocolate doughnut into his mouth. He glared at her.

“Getting between a determined person and their coffee is a criminal offense and should be punished.” She grabbed a doughnut for herself taking a bite of the sugary pastry. It tasted nothing like her parents’, but her empty stomach didn't care, so it would do. “Who’s Alfred by the way? Another brother?”

Damian took half the doughnut out of his mouth, swallowing the rest. “Most people wouldn’t dare to take the liberties you do with me.”

“Good thing I’m not most people,” Marinette responded with a smile. “You’re avoiding the question.” She took the cup out, now full to the brim of steaming hot coffee, and replaced it with the second.

“No, fortunately, I have no more brothers. Although my father likes to pick up strays so who knows if we’ll obtain another. Alfred is our butler.”

Thankfully, Marinette hadn’t taken a sip of coffee otherwise she might have done a spit-take. “You have a butler?” She had gotten the impression his family was pretty rich, and she was used to her friends having personal staff, but never failed to shock her when this level of luxury was mentioned so casually.

Damian shrugged. “Tt, butler, pseudo-grandfather, the only reason our family functions even semi-normally; same difference.”

Marinette shook her head in exasperation. “If you say so.” She pulled out the second cup, handing it to Damian. He took a sip.

“If mediocre had a taste…”

“Oh, shut up and drink it.”

They devoured their meager rations in silence, going back for seconds on both doughnuts and coffee. Marinette was by no means full when she finished, but at least her stomach wasn’t threatening to eat itself anymore.

“So, where do we go from here?” she asked.

Damian pulled out his phone. “The store closes at nine, which means we either have to avoid my brothers for eight more hours, or…”

“We have to knock them out of the game completely.”

“Exactly.”

“So, are we gonna actually knock them out, or should we just get them kicked out of the store?” She would normally try to avoid the use of excessive force on civilians, but from the few hints Damian had dropped, Marinette figured his family was used to a higher level of insanity. Living in Gotham must have that effect.

“Effective and vicious,” commented Damian, “I like the way you think. As much fun as it would be to knock them out, getting them kicked out is probably the better method. We have… family plans for this evening that potential concussions would make difficult.”

“Who’s our first target?”

“Drake,” said Damian without a moment’s hesitation. “He’s their eyes and ears. The other two are still good at hacking, but he’s the best. Get rid of him, and Grayson and Todd will be scrambling to recover. Plus, he’s the least likely to put up a fight.”

With a plan made, they erased their presence from the breakroom, hiding the lasered off vent grate and discarding their trash. Once confident the coast was clear they snuck out of the breakroom, and into the bowels of the back hallways, leaving nothing but doughnut crumbs and the smell of coffee in their wake.

It was time for the hunters to become the prey.

Tag List (closed, sorry) 

@multplelifes @bluesimani @justhugefangirl @nik-nak-3@redscarlet95 @purplesundaze @incredulous-reader @k-poplunardreams @our-preciousss @blackmagicforever @vgirl-10123 @lozzybowe @wannajointhecrabcult @dast218 @chaotic-mess-of-a-life @fidget-eep @kawaiigiantjudgefish @queenmj10@tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff @crazylittlemunchkin @fandom-writer642 @nach0ava @ladybug-182 @sam-i-am-0222@spyofthenightcourt @how-to-fuction-properly@emotionalsupportginger @dreamykitty25 @tomanyfandomsonmy-mind @mystery-5-5 @theatreandcomicfreak @weird-pale-blonde-person @whatthechickenfriedfuck @myazael@pawsitivelymiraculous @urbanpineapplefarmer @karategirl119@consumeconstantly @hauntedstudent99 @ertyzeta @thornalchemist23 @iloveitwhen @animegirlweeb@byronsacademics @i-wanna-be-a-ninja @moonlitjiminie@iglowinggemma28 @constancetruggle @catgirlkittypryde @waffelyunsure @maskedpainter @lilkymilky @unhappyraspberry @avengerthewarrior @quotesandanime @tbehartoo @clumsy-owl-4178 @g-arya @chocolateherringtacofan @jalaluvsu @crazyrandomrebel @fatimaabbasrizvi @thenillabean @goblinwhoships @bluefyoto94 @nerinalith @loopingtangent @demonicbusiness @hecate-hallow @themcclan @tropestropestropes @paintedhope7 @whitetiger1249 @glitchon @vulpixmina @kitkat81804 @kissa-chan @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @sh31bin0 @ichigorose @octobitch​ @loveswifi​ @theunquiet-dead​ @dood-space​ @kitkat81804​ @queencommonsense​ @vgirl-10123​ @ihavehomeworkbutistillhere​ 

[shyficwriter]

The Chase

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Yondu x Reader

Summary: Reader comes up behind Yondu as he’s barking orders and startles him with tickles, prompting a chase

Author’s Note: Based off this prompt from Anon and was also the winner of my last poll (Prompt choice GOTG 2)

Word Count: 1,173

You were like a panther stalking your prey; walking silently across the catwalk, your target completely unaware of your presence.  

Yondu was too busy barking his orders at the crew, and the crew were too busy following them for anyone to notice you sneaking up behind your captain. Peter would be proud, you make a note to tell him later.

At last, you were finally upon him, inches from your prize. You had to cover your mouth to stop yourself from giggling as you reached up to land a well aimed tickle attack to the back of Yondu’s neck.

His reaction was better than you could have wished for. He jumped nearly right out of his duster jacket and let out a cry of surprise that startled the rest of the crew, who stopped in their tracks to look at their captain in confusion. 

Yondu whipped around fast as lightning to find you behind him, practically doubled over from giggling so hard. His eyes narrowed and you were only just barely able to dart away when he lunged for you crying out “Ya think that was funny, ya lil’ shit?!”

You took off, knowing what was good for you. Yondu trailed not far behind, leaving his crew to speculate what just happened. 

None of them had seen what you did, only knowing you were even there because they saw you running away, but regardless of what you had done to make Yondu all murdery, it was clear you had a death wish. The last thing the crew heard before Yondu chased you out the bay doors was him yelling, “Get back here, ya cowardly asshole! I’m gonna kick yer Terran ass!”

You ran out of the Docking Bay and hung a right down a corridor, still grinning despite Yondu’s threats. You considered hiding in the workshop, but once you got closer you realized Yondu was still too hot on your heels and you ducked into a hall on your left that lead towards the kitchens. 

You burst through the kitchen doors, startling the cooks as you ran through, doing your best not to bump into anyone and uttering a “Sorry- Sorry!” as you cut through to the doors on the other side of the room. 

Once you made it into the Mess Hall you heard a commotion from behind you, the sound of doors being flung open and Yondu yelling, asking the cooks where you were. You didn’t stop running, actually vaulting over a table in your haste to the doors leading out of the Mess Hall and into another corridor. Knowing that Yondu wouldn’t be too far behind you took off to your right, hoping to lose him in the twists and turns of the web of hallways. 

Just before you turned the first corner you heard the sound of the Mess Hall doors blowing open. 

“There ya are! Come here!” Yondu yelled. You could hear the pounding of his boots on the metal floor as he easily kept up pace with you. “Ya can’t run forever!” he cried out.

He was right, you couldn’t run forever. You needed to throw him off your tail, but how? He was easily keeping up the pace, making it difficult for you to put distance between yourself and him for too long. You darted down a hallway to your left, getting the idea to head for the cargo hold, knowing you’d have a place to hide there. 

You ran through the doors to the cargo hold and pushed a box in front of the door to slow Yondu down before taking off to hide among the many boxes and containers of cargo and storage.

A loud bang could be heard from the door, making you jump and hasten your flight across the room, knowing it wouldn’t hold him for long. You had just managed to slip behind a tall stack of cargo toters when you heard the doors finally burst open, sending the box flying.

“I know yer in here! Might as well come out now.” Yondu said, the sound of his footsteps coming in your direction and making butterflies in your stomach.

You crouched down to crawl to the other end of the stack of cargo toters. Your goal was to keep moving, keeping just out of sight. Unfortunately for you, when you went to turn the corner you leaned a bit on a box that turned to be empty, causing it to fall with a loud clatter to the floor. Knowing you were caught you jumped up and made to run out the doors you came in from. 

Unfortunately again, you didn’t quite make it that far. 

Yondu had been even closer than you anticipated and he easily caught up with you, tackling you down to the floor with a triumphant yell. 

You had barely time to process you were now on the floor before you felt Yondu’s 10 fingers scratching at your sides and tummy, making you throw your head back in loud, happy laughter. 

“This oughta teach ya!” Yondu said, mirth in his voice betraying his earlier angry tone.

“Wait! Wait!” You cry out, trying to curl into a ball to escape your torment. “Yondu!”

“YoNdU wAiT!” Yondu mocked in a high, funny voice, continuing his assault. “This is what ya get for sneaking up on me, ya little brat. And this is what ya get for making me chase ya across the ship!” He moved his tickling up to your underarms, making your laughter turn a bit squeaky.

“I’m sorry!” You laughed, trying your best to squirm away but failing. 

“No ya ain’t!” He smirked, fingers now scribbling at your ribs.

You shouldn’t have. You really shouldn’t have, but you just couldn’t help yourself. You cheekily answered back with a, “You’re right!” and boy, did you suffer for it.

Yondu was momentarily taken aback with amused surprise, before he grinned wickedly and said, “Why you little-!” while digging into your belly once more, forcing a ticklish scream to rip from your throat before you fell back into hysterics.

“Ok! OK! I take it back!” you squeal, realizing your mistake, “I take it back! I’m sorry!”

“Yeah, sure ya are.” Yondu laughed, “Sorry I caught ya, maybe!”

You tried to roll to your side, begging, “Yondu please! I cahahan’t! No more! Please! I’ll be good!”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Yondu joked. “Ya promise you’ll never do it again?”

“Yes!”

Yondu grinned, “I can’t hear ya...” he said in a teasing voice. “guess I just gotta keep tickling until ya promise...”

“I PROMISE!” you shriek, “I promise! Please!”

“Alright. Since you asked so nicely, I’ll let you live this time.” he chuckled, halting his attack and letting you catch your breath. “But ya better not do it again.”

“Yes, sir.” you said, panting and still on the floor. Yondu gave you his hand to help you up. “We good?” you asked him.

“Yeah, brat.” he said, pulling you into a hug, “We good. But seriously, ya do that again, yer ass is grass.”

[tennessoui]

#18 Prompt: Ohio in Pre-Slash,16/17 year old Anakin has had a crush on his Master for awhile but knows/thinks Obi-Wan would never return his feels. He's almost completely given up and is think about maybe finding a substitute outlet. Then Obi-Wan gets amnesia while they are stranded on an uninhibited planet. Their Locator Beacon only giving off a general area. Obi-Wans amnesia leaves out the Code, and that he's Anakins teacher so the Boy calls him Master so he MUST be Obi-Wans pet/slave.

ahh so i could easily see this going dubcon and smutty and if i were better i might have gone that way too but instead i made some pining fluff but i hope you still like it!!

18. Waking Up With Amnesia (Hurt!Obi-Wan, underage!pining!Anakin, misunderstandings)

Anakin does his level best to land the ship gently, he really does. But he can’t work miracles here, and the locals had damaged their hull quite effectively when they had shot at them as they descended from atmo.

Friendly negotiations, yeah right. When Anakin gets his hands on these guys, he’s gonna show them exactly how friendly Anakin can be. But first he has to make the landing. And then he has to make sure his master is okay. Failure on either of these fronts is not an option.

His master had just gotten up to go to the back to grab their identification. They had been talking, seriously for once and without anger or impatience laced through their words--he’d said he was proud to have him as his padawan, that Anakin had grown into a young man anyone would be fortunate to know.

Anakin had turned to watch his master leave, his shields raised high but his eyes stripped bare. He’d be eighteen in two months. Somehow he’d made it through most of his time as a Padawan already. With his impending adulthood comes the realization that he has no more time for words of anger or scorn, not directed to his master at least. In a few years at most, Obi-Wan would be free of him by all Jedi rules and obligations.

Now more than ever he has to convince his master to want to keep him around. It’s a grueling task, made more difficult by how terribly difficult Anakin had been in the last, say, nine years. What with his pod-racing, his temper, his pride, his stubbornness--his huge and achingly obvious hero worship turned crush on the older Jedi.

But he can’t lose Obi-Wan, can’t even stand the idea of his master leaving him. The idea of missions alone while his master cavorts around the galaxy without hm--with another Padawan?--is absolutely intolerable. No. He has to convince the Jedi to want him as more than a Padawan. To want him as a friend, as a partner.

(In his wildest fantasies, as more than that, too.)

But now, as if the Force has heard his thoughts and is punishing him, the ship is crashing and his master has been hurt somewhere behind him but he can’t check without losing control of the vessel completely. He just has to--land--on this wide stretch--of karking sand.

It’s not his best landing, but they’re on the ground at least. The first thing he does is, of course, throw off his own landing protector and rush to Obi-Wan’s side, pulling his body out of the mangled remains of their ship and into the light and heat of outside. His master is unconscious, but he doesn’t seem to be bleeding terribly nor fatally. Now, and only now, he thanks the Force.

That’s when he notices the startling wet and spreading red across his master’s usually pristine robes.

Never mind, he tells the Force, fumbling with Obi-Wan’s belt in a panic. He needs to treat the wound, which means he needs to see it, which means he needs to get these outer robes off, as well as his master’s inner tunic.

“If I’m ever undressing you again, I swear to the Force you better be cognizant,” he mutters to himself as he rips at the fabric of the thin undershirt. “So many layers and not one of them protects you from debris, how is that fair?” He continues as he pushes Obi-Wan to the side far enough so he can see the man’s bare shoulder and the cut itself. It doesn’t look deep, at least, but it is long, spanning at least Anakin’s entire hand.

How much bacta do they have? Is their distress beacon working? Does Anakin want it to be working? Half of him thinks no, because what if the locals show up to finish them off? Half of him thinks yes, because he’d love to get his hands on the creatures responsible for Obi-Wan’s current state now.

It’s a very un-Jedi thought, but Anakin can’t even feel bad for it. He goes back into the wreckage of their ship--and he knows already he’s going to hear about this from the Council, as if anyone else could have done better--and grabs their first aid kit.

There’s bandages and bacta and that’s the important thing, he reminds himself. He’ll fix up the wound and then worry about why Obi-Wan hasn’t woken up yet.

But. Well. There’s not a great way to patch it up. The only thing he can think of is to give Obi-Wan’s form a solid thing to lean his head against while keeping his lower back pressed against the durasteel. It’s an awkward angle, but any other would result in Obi-Wan getting a face full of sand, and Anakin wouldn’t do that to his worst enemy, let alone his master.

Look. There’s no delicate way to put it. He straddles his lap and brings his head so it can rest on his chest as he works.

Of course this is when Obi-Wan begins to stir. Anakin tightens his hold on him and tries to send feelings of relief and calm through the Force. He needs Obi-Wan to not startle away from him until he finishes putting on the bacta. They can be embarrassed about this later. They’ll laugh about this later.

“You’re fine, Master,” Anakin murmurs at what he decides to take as a garbled word of confusion. “I crashed the ship, you can punish me later.”

Anakin can feel Obi-Wan’s signature spike around him, but he’s too intent on his task to figure out what specifically his master is feeling.

“What--” Obi-Wan mumbles, hand coming up to brace his head.

Anakin leans back as he finishes, tapping gently on Obi-Wan’s cheek until the man lifts his eyes to look at him. They’re dazed and confused.

“Master?” Anakin asks.

Obi-Wan’s brow furrows. “Master?”

Now Anakin’s getting very worried. “How many fingers am I holding up?” he demands.

Obi-Wan blinks. “You’re...not holding up any fingers,” he says, words becoming clearer the longer he talks. “I’m sorry

“Master,” he says slowly. “How are you feeling?” “Confused,” Obi-Wan says. “And...worried. And sick. Why are you calling me that?” “Calling you what, Master?”

“That. Master,” Obi-Wan looks sick just saying the word. Anakin scrambles up off his lap and kneels in the sand in front of him.

Panic clogs at his throat, making it even harder to force words out. “This isn’t a funny joke, Master.”

Now Obi-Wan looks distressed. “I’m not joking!” He looks wildly around and then clutches at his head in pain. “I don’t know who you are. Who I am. And I need you to stop calling me master because it’s making me feel sick to my stomach knowing that apparently I’m the kind of person who owns slaves because I know it’s wrong.”

Anakin blinks. It’s a lot to process. “You don’t remember?” is the first thing he says. He wants to say anything or anyone or perhaps the Jedi Order you’ve been a part of since you were a baby, but instead what comes out is, “Me?”

“I don’t remember myself, how am I supposed to remember you? Did you expect me to?”

Anakin stays quiet because well. Yeah. He hadn’t thought anything could really truly make his master forget him. Not time, not distance, not anything. Looking at Obi-Wan looking at him now without any sort of familiarity feels like all of his worst nightmares coming true.

His master glances down at his half-dressed state and then back to Anakin suspiciously.

It’s a harsh expression without the fond exasperation that usually hovers in the back of Obi-Wan’s eyes when he sees Anakin.

“What were you doing?” Obi-Wan asks him. “Why were you...touching me?”

“Nothing!” Anakin yelps, knowing that is the worst response he could have given. “I mean. I was tending to you, Master.”

He winces as soon as the words are out of his mouth. Ah, kark.

“Don’t call me that,” Obi-Wan snaps, looking furious. Anakin wants to explain that he can’t not, that Master is as much as Obi-Wan’s name to him as Padawan is Anakin’s. “You mean to say I’m such a terrible person that I don’t just own a slave but a pleasure slave?”

Anakin thinks he must be blushing to the roots of his hair. “No!” he yells, much louder than he intends. “No, you don’t own me, M--Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan mouths his name as if it’s a new word. Anakin is about to break into hysterical laughter.

“I’m your apprentice,” Anakin forges ahead. “We use Master as a term of respect for our teachers.” He adds, “I was tending to your wound,” just so Obi-Wan doesn’t next think that Anakin was trying to take advantage of him or something. There’s only so many misconceptions he can deal with in one sitting, especially with the amount of panic that’s raging through his brain.

Obi-Wan looks achingly hopeful. Anakin supposes that without the memory of years of emotional suppression training, he’ll be able to see what his master is feeling more easily. He wonders if he could get Obi-Wan to laugh or smile. He’d kill for one unbridled grin from the other man, although there’s nothing joyful about the situation they’re in right now.

“You’re the best man I know, Obi-Wan,” Anakin tells him softly. “I know you don’t remember right now, but I promise you’d never do that to someone. You’re good. And honest and brave and kind and…” he trails off and looks away, crossing his arms over his chest as he’s hit with the reminder of everything he stands to lose if Obi-Wan’s memory loss can’t be undone. “We’ll get this fixed. It’s just temporary. I won’t let it be permanent.” He says the last part fiercely and mostly to himself. “I won’t.”

Obi-Wan smiles, just slightly and reaches out a hand. Perhaps his need to comfort a distressed Anakin is simply instinctive. “I believe you,” he whispers back. “I trust you.”

Anakin beams. And then he thinks of something else. For a second, he wonders about whether or not he should ask the question that’s burning up his mind, but he needs to know now that he’s asked himself. “Ma--Obi-Wan, why did you think that I was. Um. A pleasure slave?”

Obi-Wan’s blush is a thing of wonder. It could single-handedly keep them both warm on Hoth itself.

“Because of how we were positioned when we woke up,” Obi-Wan mumbles, burying his face in his hands. “And because you look like that.” The last part is said from behind his fingers.

Some sort of unfamiliar fire lights itself in Anakin’s stomach. “I look like what?” he prompts, barely daring to breathe.

But this Obi-Wan must not remember why he shouldn’t always be straightforward with the truth, especially to Anakin who he’s said he trusts.

(Obi-Wan trusts him!)

“Beautiful,” Obi-Wan says, so hushed and embarrassed that Anakin almost can’t hear it over the sound of his heart beating.

Inappropriately for their current situation, Anakin wants to crow in victory as the flame inside him grows larger.

Obi-Wan trusts him. At least on some level. Instinctively. And a part of him, stripped of his Jedi code and teachings and lifestyle, thinks that Anakin is beautiful.

He puts a name to the burning in his chest. It’s hope.

[mediocre-writerr]

almost [toni shalifoe]

toni shalifoe x reader

requested: You’re an amazing writer! I had this promt for a while now where reader is Shelby’s best friend and Toni’s gf and once they get to the bunkers they find out about everything and try to escape the building but get followd by agents from all sides and the girls are scared for their lives and once they get the oppurtunity to escape the reader offers herself (maybe an agent was about to catch Shelby) and Toni and Shelby (they both don’t want to let go and are in hysterics) as well as the other girls lose it when readers screams and begs them to leave her and get to safety. Pretty heavy angst that you write so amazingly, it would be so nice to see you bring this idea to life.

*not my gif*

The walls started to be the only thing you can remember seeing. The weird wooden paneling in what felt like a fucking holding cell for prisoners’ on death row. You can’t remember what the sky looked like or the stars. All you can remember is this stupid quarantine room that you were put in after you got, quote on quote: saved, from the island.

You haven’t seen any of the girls since you’ve been saved. And you really wished you could’ve, you’ve missed their personalities. Rachel’s determination. Dot’s sarcasm. Fatin’s inappropriate jokes. Leah’s intelligence. Shelby’s kind heart. And lastly, your girlfriend Toni’s protectiveness. All of them, everything about them, you wish you had with you right now.

All of a sudden the entire power went out. The lights shut off and the camera that watches you 24/7 was down. There were footsteps echoing throughout the hallway until it stopped right in front of the door. You waited for the door to open, but it didn’t. It was like there was a moment of hesitation before something was slipped under the door and the footsteps echoed away.

A small piece of paper, written in a handwriting that was quite familiar. You’ve seen this handwriting in Nora’s notebook. From the one and only Leah Rilke, saying: We were right...

All of the conspiracy theories that we once thought were crazy, were actually true. After the shark attack that made us lose Nora and Rachel’s hand, Leah told us everything. From her finding Jeanette’s second phone to seeing Nora talk to a camera in the trees. You all thought it was crazy, until the questions that Dr. Fader and Agent Young asked could’ve only been known if they were on the island.

You flipped the paper over, seeing that there was something else written: Escape plan ???.

The next few days were quiet. You didn’t quite know what to do with yourself. Until finally, your door swung open. Fader and Young were both standing there with hands in their pockets, “You ready to see the girls?”

Your eyes lit up for the first time since you got there. Happiness overwhelming your body at the chance to see the only people who have been keeping your mind sane in that Hell hole.

You shot up from off the bed and followed them into the corridor. But not before trying to examine each hall, to find some sort of exit plan. Then it all came to a view, your favorite people in the entire world.

“Toni?” you whispered and she turned around to face you. A huge smile formed onto her face before she wrapped her arms around you.

You let out a sigh of relief. Your whole body seemed to relax at the slightest touch, “Hi love.” she whispered, holding you tightly.

The two of you let go and you see your best friend. Her long lucious blonde locks no longer there, but rather a buzz cut replacing it. You know you shouldn’t have laughed, but c’mon it’s your best friend. The two of you make fun of each other all of the time.

“You like it?” she asked, pretending to flip her hair over her shoulder.

You bursted out laughing, “Oh yeah! Getting a little bit of Caillou vibes from it.”

She pushed you back softly, before grabbing your shoulders and ultimately bringing you into a hug of your own, “I’ve missed you.” she whispered.

“I’ve missed you too...” you begin to say with seriousness, but you couldn’t help the nickname that popped into your head, “...Shelbald.”

Everyone in the coordior seemed to have busted out laughing at the nickname, “I hate you.” Shelby said.

“Mhmm, I hate you too.” you said, pulling away from the hug. Going around the room to hug all of the other girls.

Once all of you realized that you were alone, without the two agents watching your every move, you decided to catch up on the plan.

“How is this gonna work, Leah? I mean how did you get the notes out to us in the first place?” you asked. A question that has been flooding your thoughts for quite some time now.

She had a small smirk on her face, “We have an ally on the inside.” she said, bringing her voice to a whisper, “I have these napkins for all of you. We’re gonna put them in our door before closing. It’ll give us a chance to not allow it to close.”

Leah handed everyone a napkin. All of us clenching them in our fist, trying to hide it as much as possible.

“Our ally is gonna cut the power like they did when they slipped the note to everyone for me. We’re all gonna run and meet here at the corridor. He told me where the secret exit is and we’re gonna get out through there. The rest of the plan from there is a little fuzzy, but escaping is the most important part.” she explained.

There was a tense silence between everyone for a little bit. Before we all broke out into smiles, “Leah,” Rachel began, “Thank God for your craziness. It’s gonna save our asses!”

“Hell yeah it will!” Fatin exclaimed. All of you laughed along with each other. A sudden weight being lifted from your shoulders, like for once in the past few months everything was gonna be okay.

God, how you were so wrong.

“When is this happening?” Dot asked.

Leah’s lips quirked into a smirk, “Tonight.”

After a couple more hours, the two agents came back. Escorting us one by one to our rooms. We bid each other goodbye before walking into our rooms. As our doors close, all of us stuffing a napkin into them. The slow sounds of footsteps slowly fading away down the hallway, you pushed the door open a little and low and behold...it opened.

You pretended to act the normal the entire rest of the day. Lying in bed, pretending to be upset with the world. It’s not like that part changed, but at least now there was a glimmer of hope at the end of the road. You didn’t know what time it was, it could’ve been 10pm or 2am or 4am, but all of the lights shut off again. And you watched as the cameras fell, like they have been disarmed.

You let out a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, “Let’s do this.”

Slowly, you stepped out of the room, looking up and down the hallway. The coast was clear. You ran out of your room, trying to not make a lot of noise. When you reached the cooridor, everyone was there and you could tell that nervousness hung over the group.

“We ready?” Dot asked and all of us just nodded, “Let’s fucking go!”

All of you walked out of the cooridors, making sure the coast was clear. Toni intertwined her fingers into your hands and the tension in your shoulders seemed to have fallen away. Shelby was right behind you guys and you made sure to look back every now and then to make sure she was okay.

“There they are!” you heard a deep voice yell.

All of you stopped in your tracks, looking at one another. Then reality hit all of you like a truck, before you took off running. Toni practically dragging you along with her and every second you looked behind you to see Shelby keeping up. But when you do, you can see a butt-load of agents, the distance between you and them growing smaller and smaller by the second.

“Guys! They’re gaining!” you yelled. As time went on, your energy and adrenaline that the group once had was slowly diminishing.

“Well run faster!” Rachel called back. Both her and Leah leading the charge.

“I didn’t sign up for a marathon!” Fatin exclaimed.

Dot shrugged, “It’s either run a marathon or get captured by them.”

Fatin looked back at all of the angry men. And somehow, someway, she started running faster, “Yeah, yeah. Marathon it is!”

You reached the exit Leah was once talking about. Shutting the door behind you guys, locking it just before they could get in. You did a mental head count...Rachel, Leah, Dot, Fatin, Toni...that’s only five? That’s only five! You scanned the two way hallway frantically.

“Love? What’s wrong?” Toni asked.

You shook your head, “Where’s Shelby? She wa s right behind us. I should’ve...I should’ve kept watching her. I should’ve make her run in front of me.”

“What?” Toni questioned, her voice a little softer.

“Where’s Shelby?!” you practically screamed. Your voice echoing throughout the hallway.

You heard footsteps coming towards you. Shelby in the hands of Agent Young, you released a shaky breath. All of you were surrounded, the door to escape right there in front of you. A middle aged lady that you recognized from the Dawn of Eve video appeared from behind the two agents.

“Relax darling. She’s right here. Now how about we all get you back to your cells?” she asked.

Everyone shook their head, “No, this is insane! You can’t keep us here forever!” Dot yelled.

“Well we need one of you to explain to us what happened. So if you’d like to escape, go right ahead, but we keep Shelby. Easy peasy.” she explained.

You looked at Toni, sending her an apologetic glance. Her head tilting to the side in confusion. You leaned forward softly, placing a small kiss to her cheek, before letting go of her hand.

“Y/N? What are you-“ she began to ask, but you stepped towards the woman and the two agents.

You let out yet another shaky breath, “Take me.” you said sternly.

An echo of “What?!” rang throughout the hallway. And you tried not to focus on the fear that laced, each and every one of their voices.

“You let them go, let them go back home. And I’ll switch places with Shelby. I’ll cooperate and tell you the entire truth.” you negotiated.

Shelby stared right at you, “Are you insane?” she asked, tears pooling at your eyes.

“Please. Let them go. I’ll tell you everything I know. That is your best bet of trying to get yourself out of whatever sick game you’re playing. Because if you keep all of us here, we will not cooperate and you’ll know nothing.” you explained. The middle-aged woman pondered your negotiation for quite a few minutes.

And with one snap of her fingers, she was released and you were in the grasp of Agent Young and Dr. Fader. You finally brought yourself to look at the girls who were all crying. And you couldn’t bear to look at them anymore as you heard sobs course throughout Shelby, Leah, and Fatin’s body. Then there was Toni, Dot, and Rachel who were trying their best to stay strong, but you knew they couldn’t.

“You can’t do this!” Toni yelled.

You shook your head, “We don’t have a choice. I need you guys to leave. We’ve lost 2 already! No one else can get hurt anymore.” Everyone went silent, “Can I say goodbye first?” you asked, softly. The three adults all looked at each other before nodding.

You stopped first at Rachel, pulling her into a small hug. And you could feel little tear drops fall onto your shoulder, “I’m sorry we couldn’t save her.” That caused Rachel to sob even more.

You rubbed her back softly, “I’m sorry we couldn’t save you.” she whispered back before pulling away.

Then there was Fatin. She immediately crashed into your arms, holding you tighter than she ever has before. You ran your fingers through her hair, trying to soothe her as best as possible.

“I’m still holding you to your plans for when you escape.” you mentioned, out of the blue.

“What?” she asked, pulling away a little.

You smiled widely at her, “You still gotta fuck the rowdiest guy with biggest dick ASAP!”

And for once since the great escape happened all of you finally laughed and smiled. She sniffled before nodding, “I promise. I’ll dedicate it to you.”

Then Dot. You could tell she was trying her best not to cry, but a few tears slipped out. She hugged you tightly, patting your back in the process, “Do me a favor?” she just hummed in response, “When you get back home to Texas, watch after Shelby. Live in your old house together, something...anything! She can’t go home, she’s not ready for that yet. But you need to protect her and make sure that she stays the same person she is jow. Not the person we knew before, can you do that?”

“With my life.” Dot promised and you look back at her to find a determined nod on her face.

Leah’s turn was next. Her piercing blue eyes looked like the ocean when it rained. The glossiness of the raindrops hitting the water. You smiled at her softly, pulling her into a hug.

You were right by her ear when you whispered, “When we get out of here, you need to tell our story. Tell the truth the whole truth. Don’t let these bastards win. Sue them if we have to. Just get our story out. I trust you more than anyone to do that. Do it for Jeanette and Martha and even Nora. The ones we’ve lost and the ones who are lost in the trauma.”

“I’m on it. You come back to us okay? We need you here too to tell our story.” she said.

You smiled at her sadly, “I’ll try.”

Then there was Shelby. You look at her and she looked at you shaking her head, “No no you can’t do this. You can’t sacrifice yourself for everyone else. I’ll stay here with you! I’ll follow you always!” she pleaded, sobs following her spoken words.

Tears finally fell from your eyes, “You can’t stay here okay? You have to go home.”

“You’re my only family!! Why are you doing this??” she practically yelled.

You sniffled, smiling softly, “You know how we always wanted to be the hero? We would go on missions for church to help people’s lives.” she nodded, “I’m gonna be the hero today and save the people I care about the most.”

Shelby grabbed you forcefully, holding you into her arms. The two of you shaking, as sobs coursed throughout your bodies. You placed your hand on the back of her head, holding her unbelievably close. Until you finally let go.

“I’m not gonna let you do this.” Toni said sternly.

“You have no choice-“ you began to say, but she cut you off.

“Fuck that! I do have a choice and I’m gonna swap places with you! You took Shelby’s place so easily, so why can’t I do that with you?!” her voice echoing, causing everyone to flinch back.

You took your hands in her face, rubbing circles along her cheekbones. Something you did on the island to calm her down when she got too angry or stressed. You placed your forehead on hers and you could see her lips start to quiver.

“You can’t stay here.” she pleaded, “I can’t-what am I gonna do without you? I don’t have Marty or you, what am I gonna do?”

You placed a kiss to her forehead, “I’m gonna find my way back. Find all of you again, okay? I’m never leaving you as cheesy as it sounds I’m always gonna be right here.” you pointed at her heart, “But until then I have to go darling.”

“No, please!” she practically begged. You kissed her softly, but with so much emotion to let her know how much you love her. Not knowing when the next time will be.

“I love you Toni.” you placed one more kiss to her forehead before taking a step back to look at all of the girls.

Again, with one snap of the fingers, you were back in the agents arms, “Escort them to the exit.” the middle-aged woman stated, “You’re coming with me.”

Ear piercing screams rang through your ears. You were about to be dragged off when Shelby and Toni tried rushing towards you. They grabbed your hands trying to pull you back, but the agents were stronger. Not to mention the other agents holding them back.

“We’re not leaving you!!” they yelled.

You didn’t want it to end like this, “Please just go! We lost! You can’t stay here! It’s not safe for you! So please just get out!” you screamed before everything started to break down in front of you, “Just go.” you kept mumbling over and over again between sobs.

Dr. Fader and the middle aged woman escorted you away from the girls and to the interrogation room. While Agent Young escorted the bawling girls towards the exit, probably to drive them to the airport on wherever the hell we are.

“You promised! I trusted that you would keep all of us safe!” Leah spat at Agent Young when they were all alone. She started banging on his chest, “I trusted you! And you-you made us lost Y/N!”

He just let her go at it, before grabbing her wrists as softly as possible, “I tried, but Gretchen watched all of you run from her office. She figured you were going there. And called for everyone to surround you. I tried Leah. I tried for all of you and I failed!”

“You were the ally?” Dot asked and he nodded.

“You girls don’t deserve this. You’ve already been through so much. It’s time for you to go home.” he said sadly, “I’ll take care of her, I promise.”

///

tag list: @hstoria @greysky22 @shalifoestilinski @yourssincerelyj

[intheticklecloset]

The Sleepover (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

@veryblushyswitch​ Knocking out a whole bunch of requests with this one! I wasn’t intending to double or triple-up necessarily, but they all worked so well together that I couldn’t help myself. Also delving a little deeper into Bakugou’s “it’s complicated” response from “Get Back Here, Deku!” I love how this turned out; I think it’s really cute and sweet and exactly what our angry boi needed. Enjoy!

~

“He’s what?” Sero asked, dumbfounded. He couldn’t believe his ears. “No way.”

Deku held up his hands and shook his head. “Ah! What? No! No, that’s not what I meant, I mean…”

“Oh, yeah!” Kaminari grinned. “Kiri and I got him one time. It was hilarious.”

“There’s no way that Bakugou is ticklish,” Sero insisted.

“He – he’s not!” Deku tried to cover up his mistake, but he knew as well as Kaminari did that it was useless. The both of them had been there that day it had first been discovered by someone other than him.

“He totally is,” Denki nudged Sero, still grinning widely. “And hey, we’re having that sleepover in his room with the others tomorrow night. We can test it out then. Sound fun?”

Sero grinned back. “Oh, yeah.”

“W-Wait, guys,” Deku stammered, panicked on his friend’s behalf. “He really doesn’t like it unless—” He stopped himself. “Uh, I mean, he just doesn’t like it. It’s not worth making him mad.”

“Unless what?” Denki asked. “You were about to say he doesn’t like it unless what?”

“N-Nothing!”

Kaminari glanced at Sero and quirked a brow. Understanding perfectly, Sero pulled Deku toward him and hooked his arms under their friend’s underarms, effectively trapping him with his torso exposed for Denki to start tickling, which he did.

“Nohohohoho, wait, plehehehehehease don’t do thihihihis!” Deku begged through his instant giggles. He tried to bring his arms down but couldn’t, and when he lifted his arms up to try and wriggle out of Sero’s hold Kaminari would go for his underarms to keep him in place.

“Tell us, Midoriya,” Sero said into his ear, smirking. “We’ll tickle it out of you if we have to.”

“Gahahahahahaha!” Deku knew he would spill eventually and so decided to just get it over with. “Fihihihihine I’ll tell you! Just stohohohohop!” When they let him go, he sighed. “Kacchan only likes being tickled if it’s with someone he’s comfortable around. If he’s not comfortable with you he’ll hate every second of it. He may even start to hate you, and trust me, you don’t want that.”

Sero and Kaminari exchanged looks. There was silence for a minute.

“Thanks for letting us know, Deku,” Kaminari said at last, offering his friend a small smile. “We’ll do our best not to push him too far.”

“But we do want to mess with him tomorrow, right?” Sero asked.

“Oh, definitely. No way he’s getting out of there without laughing at least a little.”

Deku felt a little nervous for Kacchan, but decided there was nothing more he could do about it now. “H-Hey, just…don’t tell him I told you that, okay?”

“Sure, Midoriya.” Denki winked. “Not a word, right?”

*

The following evening, the two boys joined Kirishima and Mina in heading to Bakugou’s dorm room for what was sure to be a pretty crowded sleepover. No one seemed to mind, though. Not even their host, though he grumbled and complained about his room being the destination of choice.

“If we’d chosen one of our rooms you wouldn’t have joined in,” Kirishima told him with a knowing grin.

“And having it in mine would just be weird,” Mina added. “I like you guys, but not enough to have four boys spending the night in my room.”

They all laughed at that, organizing their pillows and blankets on the limited floor space while Bakugou sat on his bed and watched.

“What are even going to do in here?” he finally asked, growly but resigned. “If all we’re gonna do is sleep there’d be no point in us all being in one room for that.”

“We could play truth or dare,” Mina suggested.

“Boring,” Denki and Kiri intoned at the same time.

“What if we all went around and said something about ourselves the rest of us don’t know?” Sero suggested, glancing at Denki, who gave him a slight nod.

Mina hummed. “That could be interesting.”

“I don’t want to play some lame getting-to-know-you game,” Bakugou grumbled. “That’s such a garbage elementary school move.”

“Oh come on, Bakugou.” Kiri nudged his shoulder. “You’re no fun. Let’s just try it, yeah?”

“No.”

“Here, let’s sit in a circle,” Mina said, and the others followed her lead.

Well, except Bakugou. “Seriously? Now we’re really getting pathetic.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes. “Get your butt on this floor before I drag it there myself.”

Something seemed to pass between them in that moment, because the next thing they knew Bakugou was doing as he was told, completing the circle they’d started.

“Great!” Mina beamed. “Sero, why don’t you go first, since this was your idea?”

“Oh, sure,” Sero stammered, suddenly on the spot. He thought for a moment. “Uh, let’s see…I hate grapes.”

Everyone laughed.

“Is that because of Minetta?” Kaminari asked.

Sero blinked, then grinned. “No, but now that you mention it…that certainly doesn’t help.”

“One time when I was a kid, I sneezed so hard my acid disintegrated the ice cream cone I was holding,” Mina said, grinning. “I was really upset.”

Kirishima said, “I rescued a cat when I was nine. Stuck in a tree, just like they always are.”

Bakugou was next, but when it came to him, he kept his mouth shut.

“What’s something we don’t know about you, Bakugou?” Mina nudged.

“Plenty, and I’d like to keep it that way.” He scoffed. “This is stupid.”

“Aw, come on, man!” Denki whined, though he turned to give Sero another meaningful glance. Sero grinned slightly.

“If you don’t want to say something, I’ll do it for you,” Kirishima said. And before anyone could protest, he wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulders and announced loudly, “Katsuki Bakugou is super ticklish.”

Everyone froze. No one said a word. You could hear a pin drop. All eyes went to Bakugou, who gritted his teeth. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” Kiri insisted, keeping his firm hold on the boy’s shoulders. “And if you keep being such a grouch, I’m going to prove it to everyone right here and now.”

Denki pounced on his chance. “It’s true! I’ve seen it, too.”

“No way,” Mina exclaimed, eyes wide. “Bakugou?”

“I’m not,” the blonde growled, trying to push Kiri away from him. “Back off. I don’t want to talk about this.”

Sero hesitated for a moment, but one look from both Denki and Kiri and he jumped into action with the rest of them, lunging for Bakugou and pulling him to the floor. Mina joined in, too, and within seconds they had their friend pinned to the ground.

“Don’t!” Bakugou snapped, struggling the entire way down and trying to kick his way out once there. “I swear to god, do not tickle me, I’ll—”

“Now!” Denki shouted.

“I’ll kill you!” Bakugou swore, biting his lip hard to keep himself under control. Sero used his tape to keep his arms above his head, while Kiri sat on his calves to keep his legs from moving. “Agh! S-Stop it! Y-You’re all s-s-so dead!”

“Come on, man,” Kiri said, watching as Mina scribbled in his underarms, Sero tried his stomach, and Denki went for the ribs. He smirked at how hard his friend was fighting against the sensations. “Just let it out. Your cover’s been blown.”

“S-Shut up!” Bakugou jerked sharply when Mina wandered a little further down than just his underarms to that spot at the top of his ribs. “I-I’m n-n-not—gah!”

Mina gasped. “Was that a smile?” She went back to where she thought she’d gotten the most reaction and beamed when Bakugou’s lips tugged upward in an uncontrollable grin. “It is! Aw, you are ticklish!”

“Shut up!” Bakugou snapped, but it sounded strained, and the effect of it was lost for how big he was smiling now. “Knock it off! Kiri, you know I h-hahate this; make them stohop!”’

“Was that a giggle?” Sero asked, genuinely curious, but the way the blood rushed to Bakugou’s face was answer enough. He started to press a little harder. “My ears must be deceiving me. I gotta hear it again.”

“You don’t hate this,” Kirishima said gently, finally joining in himself by grabbing onto his friend’s thighs and squeezing. “You’re just not used to being so open about how much fun you’re having.”

Bakugou jolted again, harder this time, and a single, clear giggle escaped his lips.

“Dude, he’s blushing!” Sero exclaimed, laughing. “This is great!”

“Why not just laugh, Bakugou?” Mina asked in a sweet, teasing tone. “It’s got to be killing you to keep it bottled up like that.”

“Why don’t we kick it up a notch?” Denki smirked. He activated his quirk the tiniest bit, wiggling into their friend’s bottom ribs, and finally – finally – the angry blonde stopped fighting it.

“Nohohohohohoho!” Bakugou hated that he’d lost control so quickly, but there was nothing he could do about it now except fight with his words. “Dahahahang you, Kaminahari, I’ll kihihill you, I swear! NOHOHOHOHO!!” He tossed his head back with a shriek as the electric sparks intensified, moving up toward his death spot. “Gahahahahahahahahaha! Stahahahahahahahahahap!”

“Don’t think so, man,” Denki teased, letting up on his electric attack when he got to the sweet spot, figuring that would tickle enough on its own. “Tickle, tickle, Bakugou~”

Bakugou’s face turned a dark, dark red as he sputtered in the split second before his laughter became explosive. “DOHOHOHOHOHOHOHON’T!!”

“There we go!” Kirishima began to dig in harder as well, sending his friend into further hysterics. “You sound really happy when you laugh, you know. It’s nice to hear.”

“STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Bakugou shouted through his laughter, twisting and writhing. “YOU JEHEHEHEHERKS, I’LL MUHUHUHURDER YOU ALL!!”

“Well that’s not very nice!” Mina pouted, beginning to go harder as well, focusing on his underarms. “You should be punished for thinking such awful things!”

Sero grinned, digging in as well, and now all four of them were giving it their all, pulling laugh after shrieking laugh from their constantly angry friend. Bakugou’s mind grew foggier and foggier with each tickle that assaulted him, making him lose track of who was doing what and where.

“Aww, look how cute you are!” Mina teased him, beaming.

Sero chuckled. “His laugh sounds like a fireworks show.”

“Not ticklish, huh, King Explosion Murder?” Kirishima chimed in.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Bakugou yelled again, sounding more desperate this time. He pulled at the tape on his arms, tried to buck his hips. He was trapped. “GEHEHEHEHEHET OFF, YOU MOHOHOHOHOHORONS!!”

“If I didn’t know better,” Denki mused, “I’d say he’s a little sensitive to teasing.”

Mina nearly squealed. “Do you like being teased? Does it make you super flustered to have four people tickling you at once? You can’t hide how red you’re getting; I think you do like teasing!”

“I DOHOHOHOHOHO NOT!!” Bakugou practically screamed with laughter when she traveled back down to that sweet spot and dug in there. “STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!! YOU GUYS, PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

Mina, Sero, and Denki gasped in unison. “He said please!”

“Scream all you want, Bakugou!” Kaminari laughed, igniting his tickly electric sparks again. “No one’s coming to save you. Nothing can stop us now!”

And with that, Bakugou absolutely broke. “PLEASE!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE, NO MOHOHOHOHORE!! I’M BEHEHEHEHEHEGGING YOU!! KIRISHIMA, GET THEM TO STOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOP!!”

Seeing that his friend was truly desperate for a reprieve, Kirishima let up and shouted for the others to do the same. “All right, that’s enough! Let him go, he can’t take any more.”

Trusting that their redheaded friend knew what he was talking about, the three others let up their attacks as well. Sero cut the tape binding Bakugou to the floor and gathered it up while the blonde pulled his arms down and rolled onto his side, curling up into a protective ball. It stunned all three of them to see how out of breath he was.

Mina broke the silence first. “You okay, Bakugou?”

He was silent for a moment. Then, “I told you to stop.”

Mina, Sero, and Kaminari looked at each other worriedly. When he’d been yelling ‘stop’ before, it was through laughter, so they didn’t take him seriously. Now that it was over, though…

“You can stop pretending, Bakugou,” Kirishima said in that gentle tone, scooting forward to place a hand on his leg. “You don’t have to be Mr. Tough Guy all the time. Not here. Not with us. You’re allowed to be yourself, you know.”

“I don’t like being tickled.” Bakugou’s voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper.

“Unless?” Kiri prompted.

Again the other three looked at each other, then back to the blonde, silent. Waiting. For a long minute, no one said a word. Then Bakugou sat up, his back turned to them but facing Kirishima.

“Unless I feel…comfortable. Safe.”

Safe. All four friends looked at each other now, Kiri included.

“Safe…how?” Mina asked quietly.

“Safe from being pushed past my limits.” Bakugou’s voice was gruff as usual, but it was quieter now, and completely sincere. He hunched his shoulders. “Safe from the whole class finding out. The whole school. The world. I don’t want to be like Deku, getting randomly tickled all the time. I don’t even want that from my friends. I just…” He sighed. “I don’t want to be tickled unless I know I’m going to be safe from all of that. Being ticklish is a weakness.”

“It’s not—” Kiri started to say.

“It is,” Bakugou continued firmly, making eye contact now. “And that’s why I don’t want it to be exposed to anyone but those I feel comfortable with. Like you guys.”

Those last three words made their hearts swell. Kirishima scooted forward again and pulled Bakugou into a hug. “You’re safe with us. I promise.” The others concurred, moving forward as well, making it a group hug.

Bakugou remained tense for a moment, then let out another sigh and relaxed into their embrace. He was still uncertain, still on edge, and even a little scared, if he was honest. He’d never really had friends before – just lackeys that would follow him around everywhere because they thought he was cool. This was different, this opening up, this being honest with himself as well as others. Having friends he could trust with his life – literally. But it was a new chapter of his life that – as long as he was still being honest – he was looking forward to reading.

From somewhere within the group hug, Kirishima said, “You know your laugh really brightens up the room?”

Bakugou smiled. “Shut up, Kiri.”

[cardiophileanonymous]

Short Thorquill Drabble: Clear!

AU where the guardians take one Electro, someone with electric powers similar to Thor. He is an alien race considered gods like asgardians. I know he’s a goofy Spider-Man villain but I couldn’t find many other electric villains in the marvel universe lol so just roll with it.

...

“Ha,” Electro quietly laughed. “A GOD of thunder? You’re barely even a child, let alone a deity!”

Thor was backed up to a corner, well, more of a cliff. Quill looked up, frantically waving his arms to get the attention of the men above him.

“Thor!” His shouts fell on deaf ears as the blonde man was too busy focusing on his opponent to notice. He glanced at a broken statue before him. “Rocket, what are these statues made of?”

Rocket shrugged.

“I dunno, silver maybe? But that doesn’t matter right now!”

Without explaining himself, Quill grabbed a long stick like piece that had broken off.

“Hey asshole!” The villain looked down. “Yeah, I’m talkin’ to you! If you really have such amazing lightning powers, why’ve I never seen you use em?!” He lifted up the long rod as if it was a sword.

Rocket’s jaw dropped in fear. He was pretty sure he had a good idea of what he was planning, and Peter had done far more stupid things in the past. He still whispered to him, determined to say his piece and not let his friend at least know what a suicide mission this was.

“Quill, are you crazy?! Silver is the most conductive metal in existence!”

Instead of backing down, the man stood up straighter.

“At least Thor shows his ‘pathetic’ powers! You haven’t! That’s cuz’ you’re not nearly as good as him!”

Thor shook his head.

“Quill-”

The villain finished his sentence.

“I have no need to prove myself to you or any other mortal!”

Quill shrugged and began to speak in a condescending, taunting manner.

“Then, go ahead! Strike me down, Zeus!” The villain turned his attention back to Thor, but he still looked down in the corner of his eye. The human smiled, a nervous smile from fear. He had to get his attention back quick, else Thor would be toast. “YOU DON’T HAVE THE BALL-”

With that, the villain turned, throwing a full speed lightning bolt at Quill. He jumped up from the electrocution immediately.

“QUILL!”

The call came from both Rocket and Thor. Rocket was almost frozen with fear. Meanwhile, Thor has the opposite reaction, taking his large battle axe and swiping along Electro’s feet with the long handle, causing him to fall on his side.

...

Rocket wasn’t sure what he should be doing, but dammit, he was gonna do his best. He had been trying chest compressions for the past few minutes, but with his smaller size he wasn’t sure if he was getting it done properly. Thor ran up to them.

“Rabbit! Is Quill-”

“I am Groot!”

Rocket lifted his head.

“I’m tryin, alright?! Listen, there’s still a pulse!”

Thor perked up.

“There is?!”

“Yeah but it’s way too slow and irregular! I’m trying to get it back to normal, but…”

Thor suddenly got an idea. He nudged Groot out of the way and kneeled down next to Rocket, in front of Quill.

“I have an idea. I saw something back on Earth. I think I can help.”

He shooed him away and opened up Peter’s jacket before ripping off his shirt. He put his hands on his chest. Rocket couldn’t help but keep butting in through the whole thing.

“Wait, what what? What are you doing?”

Thor gave a clear warning.

“Stand back, Rabbit.��

He didn’t know how much was too much. Or too little for that matter. He focused, putting a small electric surge through Peter’s body. His chest convulsed up involuntarily before lying still again. Rocket jumped up, yapping uncontrollably.

“What are you doing, trying to kill him faster?!”

“What is his pulse now?”

Rocket brought his paw up to Quill’s neck to check. He gave Thor an odd look.

“...better than before.” He quickly started chest compressions again. “But still not good enough. His heart’s all outta whack.”

Thor looked to the side. After a few more moments of chest compressions, he brought his hands back down again.

“Stand back, Rabbit.”

He did a similar shock this time. He tried to amp it up a little bit more, just enough so he wouldn’t hurt him and return his heart to his normal rhythm. The body jumped up before falling again. Rocket monitored Peter’s pulse again before returning to chest compressions.

“Better, but it’s still, irregular, dammit!”

Thor put a hand to Peter’s wrist while Rocket continued on with his attempt at cpr. He wasn’t kidding when he said it was irregular. The odd thumping sent a chill up his spine. Still, it seemed to get slightly better with Rocket continuing to do what he was doing.

“Stand back, Rabbit.”

Thor sent another surge of electricity, raising the power up again this time. But this would be the most powerful he was willing to do. Any more, and he was positive he’d be hurting him far more than helping.

Rocket continued with chest compressions. His heart rate was better, but not by much. Thor was beginning to get worried.

“Stand back, Rabbit.”

Another surge. Quill’s whole body convulsed. Rocket shook his head, frantically pushing his chest at a consistent rate.

“A big lightning bolt did this, why can’t a big lightning bolt put it back?!”

“It doesn’t work like that!”

“I know it doesn’t work like that! But…” Rocket began to get tired. He looked down, scared that Quill would never come to. “...but I wish it did.” He slowed down, and slowly came to a stop, before kneeling down. He looked like he was genuinely going to cry. Thor sighed, recalling all the previous friends he’d seen die in battle. He didn’t want this to be another one of those memories.

“Stand back, Rabbit. I’m going to try this one more time.”

He sent one more surge of electricity, hopeful that this time, Quill would open his eyes. After his body stiffened then returned to a relaxed state, Thor took a keen look at his face. He didn’t move an inch. The god finally looked down in defeat. His eyes turned to Rocket and Groot, who were already partially mourning. They would no doubt carry him back to the ship, and subsequently to a hospital, but the ship wouldn’t be there for another fifteen minutes. By then it’d likely be far too late.

Suddenly, Peter stirred. He groaned a little before sitting up. He looked at everyone.

“What… happened…?”

Rocket started laughing hysterically, something he was doing to stop himself from crying. It was a very sad laugh as a result.

“YOU GOT STRUCK BY LIGHTNING, YOU IDIOT!”

Suddenly, Quill’s memories started coming back to him. That’s right! He had pissed Electro off enough into zapping him. But that was strange, because the shock he got from him seemed like it happened ages ago. And he could’ve sworn he came to a couple times from a different kind of electricity.

“But… I thought I just felt zapping.” He looked down and noticed his clothes. “And what happened to my shirt? Was this all from the electric shock?”

Thor lifted his head up in pride.

“I just used my powers to send a large electric current through your heart!”

Quill looked at him with a confused smile before frowning with an open mouth.

“You WHAT?”

“It’s like a technology they have on Earth. A ‘defibrillator’. It puts your heart back to a ‘normal rhythm’.”

Rocket shrugged.

“I mean, it did do that. Your heart rate was waaay worse before Thor started zappin’ ya.”

Quill was speechless. Of course, the first thing going through his mind was holy shit this idiot could’ve just fried me a million times over right now and I could’ve been long dead, did he even know what he was doing?! But then he looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. He wasn’t dead. Yeah, he was more than worse for wear, but that’s to be expected of someone who just got struck by powerful electricity. In fact, if Thor hadn’t gotten the idea to use his own hands to revive him, was it possible he could’ve died?

…

Later that night, Thor hung by the bar, laughing and joking with Drax and Rocket, as he usually did. This time, Peter joined them, and waited patiently for when Rocket and Drax decided to leave. He decided that after the other two were gone would finally be the time he’d swallow his pride. He knew he needed to say some sort of thank you. Not because of another crew mate telling him to or because his hand was forced. But out of genuine appreciation.

After Drax had left, Peter made a couple facial expressions at Rocket. The two had known each other well enough at this point that they were capable of having conversations without a single word. He indicated that he wanted to be alone with Thor and Rocket respectfully nodded and left the room. Once it was just the two of them sitting at the bar table, Peter finally cleared his throat.

“Thor.”

The god nodded.

“I guess… I just wanted to say… thank you.”

Thor seemed confused.

“Thank you?”

“Yes. For the whole shocking me, back to life, or whatever.”

“What? I should be thanking you!”

Peter turned his head to the side.

“Huh?”

“Yeah! If it weren’t for you distracting him, I’d have been finished!”

Quill’s confusion quickly turned into pride.

“Yeah…! You’re right!” He laughed, but his pride was shaky, and didn’t stay for long. After being face to face with death, again, now didn’t feel like the time to soak in praise unnecessarily. “...seriously though. Look, I know we don’t really get along, so the fact you saved me is just…” He couldn’t really convey the words, so he just reiterated his original point. “Thank you.”

Thor shrugged.

“Why shouldn’t I have? I feel I have been at your ire for no reason yet you risked your life for me in the first place.”

Quill felt like all his mental functions stopped for a moment as he registered what he was just told.

“Did I?”

“Well, what was that whole display?” Thor chuckled as he raised his bottle in the air, quoting Quill right before he got struck by lightning. “Come on, strike me down, Zeus!” He laughed at the previous sentence. “That line is actually pretty funny, since you turned out alive from this whole ordeal.”

Quill unconsciously started nodding.

“Yeah. I guess that is a funny line.”

He started to ponder, why did he do it? In his eyes, Thor was an annoying, rambunctious barbarian. He was always waiting for the day Thor would get off the ship, a day that never really came. Perhaps it was because he didn’t make a good first impression, maybe it was because he saw him as a rival for leadership. But despite all of that, there was no way in hell he deserved to die, so his heroism probably kicked in before any sort of jealousy or bitterness. Sure, literally asking to get struck by lightning was a less than eloquent way of going about saving him. But it was the best he could come up with in the heat of the moment. He snapped back to reality when Thor handed him a beer.

“How is your heart feeling?”

Peter grabbed the beer and looked him in the eyes, confused.

“Um, normal?”

“Well, what’s your heart rate?”

“Normal, I guess…? Like I don’t feel any different, so-”

Thor rolled his eyes, putting a hand on his wrist without question. After a few seconds, he nodded and smiled.

“It’s normal.”

Peter did his best not to move his hand back out of instinct. Was just randomly grabbing people’s wrists to check on their pulses a common thing among asgardians, or was this man just incredibly weird? Instead of saying anything, he tried his best to laugh it off.

“Well, that’s good.”

He swore he could still feel Thor’s fingers on his pulse long after he finally retracted his hand. It was a strange phantom touch that remained. It annoyed him a little bit, but at the same time, it was oddly… comforting? He took a few sips of his beer as Thor went to bed and he pondered when he ought to do the same.