#someone did the math on sam's time in hell and it was a lot. like 900 years i think bc time moves faster in lucifer's cage than in hell | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sam24 · 5 months

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Minivans And Pawnshops

Summary: You were out on a mission for a week, and when Tony, your self-appointed overprotective bodyguard, notices your Greek god of a boyfriend acting weird, he makes it his personal duty to figure out why. By asking Steve what was going on? Hell no. By slipping a Stark Tracker on him and shoving 11 people into an 8-seater Honda Odyssey to follow him.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

*****

“Take a left.” Friday’s monotone voice rang out.

“Take a left here, Happy,” Tony instructed, looking up from the Stark Map on his phone.

Happy rolled his eyes, mumbling something along the lines of I know, the robot already told me.

“This isn’t necessary, Tony,” You repeated for about the hundredth time. “Steve is not cheating on me.”

“My evidence says otherwise,” Tony urged Happy to drive faster, earning a grumble from the latter. “He’s acting very suspicious, always going out and coming back late every time.”

“Actually, I can vouch for Tony on that one,” Clint adds from his squished place in the last row of the mini-van, practically sitting in an annoyed Natasha’s lap. “He’s been acting pretty weird.”

“Doesn’t automatically mean that he’s cheating,” You defended. “He probably has other reasons.”

“Fine. Cheating or fight club. Which would you prefer?” Tony cocked his head at you, and you shoved it back.

“If he is bedding another woman, I will make sure he cannot bed any woman ever again!” Thor declared loudly into your ear, Wanda also wincing on the other side of him.

“You mean cut his dick off?” Sam piped in from the back, who was purposefully shoving into Bucky with every turn the car made.

“Um, indeed. I think so,” Thor shrugged. “I am not sure what I meant either.”

“Uh Mister Stark?” Peter turns around from the passenger seat that he was sharing with a very uncomfortable Bruce. “Did you really have to bring all of us? I have a lot of math homework to finish.”

Tony waved him off. “I have like 30 assistants back at the tower, kid. Someone will do it for you. Plus, all of us have to catch Rogers in the act and publicly shame him.”

You turned back to Tony, remembering what you both were initially arguing about after the ringing in your ear settled down. “You didn’t have to sneak a damn tracking device on him! You could have just asked what he was doing like a normal person.”

“Fuck being normal. At least be grateful that I waited for you until you came back from your mission to catch him red handed.” Tony smirked. “Or should I say cum handed.”

Everyone gagged.

“Actually, I don’t think that’s how it works,” Vision frowned, basically underneath Wanda. “The semen technically would not be in the Captain’s hand, unless-”

“Vis, honey.” Wanda just shook her head.

“Plus, I already asked Cyborg over here.” Tony pointed to the back at Bucky, who was still glaring at Sam. “He went uhh, I don’t know and ran away,” Tony said in his best dumb jock voice.

“Nothing is going on, Tony.” Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Just turn the car around.”

“I agree with Barnes.” Natasha kicked Tony’s seat from the third row. “Turn around, Happy.”

Bucky looked past Sam and Clint, who were hitting each other’s knees with their own. “Steve told you too?” He asked in Russian with a raised eyebrow.

Natasha shook her head with a smirk. “No. I’m just smart like that.”

“Too late, buddy,” Tony ignored their secret conversation, flashing a fake smile over his shoulder. “Like the great John B once said, ‘We didn’t come this far to get this far’.”

Peter whipped around once again, his eyes lighting up at the quote. “Mister Stark, I’m really glad that you’re watching my TV show recommendations, but I’m pretty sure someone else said it before he did-”

“Happy, take another left here.” Tony called out, mimicking the AI who just said it seconds before.

You rolled your eyes, the red dot in the center of Brooklyn on the phone screen catching your attention. You had no reason to doubt Steve’s loyalty toward your relationship. He loved you and you loved him and you knew that he would never do anything to hurt you. But, you were curious as to why Steve was apparently acting weird while you were gone, and what the hell he was doing in Brooklyn.

“Trust me, Tone. He’s not cheating. I’ll just ask him when he comes back, it’s probably just some stuff he has to take care of.”

“C’mon guys,” Bucky pressed. “Let’s turn around. I need to pee or something.”

“Hm, sounds like you're in denial.” Tony said to you, ignoring Bucky once again. “Don’t worry, the next step will be coming soon. Anger,” Tony announced with a grin like it was some kind of flashy news headline.

“Tony, why the hell does it sound like you want my boyfriend to be cheating on me.”

“Aw come on, it’s not like that,” Tony gestured at Happy to take a right. “I’m just looking out for you.”

You rolled your eyes once again, rubbing your wrist, remembering the death grip Tony had on you earlier as he dragged you into the light blue Honda Odyssey packed tight of Avengers in the back of his garage. He was saving it for his future family, he had claimed when you asked why Tony Stark of all people owned a minivan.

“Stop!” Tony yelled, and Happy quickly stepped on the brake, sending everyone flying forward. You heard Bruce and Peter groaning in the front. “This is it. The big reveal,” he announced.

You immediately scooted ever closer to Tony as he pressed his forehead to the window.

“He’s having an affair with . . .” Tony paused with a frown, his sunglasses sliding down the slope of his nose. “The owner of Vintage Pawn Shop?”

Pawn shop? Didn't Steve say something about a pawn shop a while back?

Identical confused eyebrow furrows made their way onto everyone’s faces, except Bucky’s and Natasha’s, as you spotted your unmistakable 6 foot 2 super soldier through the glass littered with fingerprints.

He was describing something to the old lady working in the store, looking hopeful and tired, like he had been searching for it for days. She nodded and raised her finger in a one minute, honey type of way and started rummaging through some things behind the counter. She pulled out a small box from somewhere, opening it and gently placing it in front of Steve.

You squinted your eyes, accidentally shoving Tony’s head into the window of the car as you craned your neck closer, trying to read the woman’s lips.

She said something along the lines of This might be what you’re looking for, sweetie, and Steve’s eyes lit up, a clear wave of nostalgia crashing over him. With gentle calloused fingers, he lifted a ring out of the box, admiring it with a soft smile.

“Friday,” Tony called out, face still squished between you and the car window. “Connect to the store’s CCTV.”

Before you could ask since when the hell Friday could do that, the Stark Map with a You have arrived at your destination adorned on its screen quickly was replaced with the live footage from the store’s cameras.

“Did this belong to someone that you knew, honey?” The old woman’s kind voice grainily made its way through the speaker of Tony’s phone as she noticed Steve’s eyes glistening with tears.

Everyone tried to move closer to the phone for Steve’s reply in the overcrowded car. “Ow!” You heard Clint yell, probably at Sam. “That was my foot, dumbass!” He was immediately shushed.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, still smiling at the ring. “My ma’s.”

Multiple gasps were heard throughout the car, Happy’s being the loudest.

A weeks old, sleepy memory that was buried deep into your brain immediately flooded back.

You and Steve were wrapped around each other, your ear pressed to his heart, slowly lulling you to sleep with a familiar beat.

“Y’know, you remind me of my ma.” Steve randomly declared against your hair, and you peered up at him to meet the soft currents in his eyes. “Beautiful. Kind. Doesn’t take shit from anyone.”

He pressed a kiss to your lips as you smiled, cupping your face to pull back and look at you. He stared lovingly at you for a while, settling into a comfortable silence.

“Everything okay?” You turned your head to kiss his palm. The last time he had looked at you for this long without talking, it was right before he burst into tears after you had almost died on a mission.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Just thinking.” He pulled you back into his chest, placing another kiss on your forehead. “She would’ve loved you.”

After a little bit of silence, he spoke again. “Her ring was beautiful.”

“Oh?” You hummed.

“Yeah.” He nuzzled his nose into your cheek, a slight Brooklyn accent slipping through as he talked slowly, his words laced with sleep. “Don’t know where it is, but I wanna find it for you. I’ll look through every pawn shop in the state. And when I find it I’ll propose when the time’s right under the stars and you’ll say yes because you’re just like my ma, and Ma loved me more than anything in the world.”

If Steve had brought up the topic of marrying you during the day when you were wide-awake, you probably would have had a stroke of happiness.

But right now, it was night.

It was night and you were half-asleep, wrapped up in Steve’s warm arms, feeling more at peace there than you ever had anywhere else.

Nothing but peace.

So you just drowsily grinned into his bare chest, your hand snaking up to rest on his cheek. “She loved you more than anything in the world, huh?” You repeated. “Well then I guess your Ma and I are pretty similar.”

You looked up from the screen and back at the window, staring at the ring in Steve’s hand with wide eyes. The sunlight bounced off of it and the jewel sparkled in the light with an elegant touch. Steve was right- it was absolutely gorgeous.

A smile crept onto your face, matching the one on Steve’s.

“Why the hell are you smiling?” Tony’s voice interrupted your daze. “He’s gonna propose to the side chick!”

#marvel fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #tony stark is dumb #but we still love him

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averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year

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Family of Heroes 🪪 | Everett Ross Heacanon

Link to my Marvel masterlist

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Having a family with Everett Ross would look like:

So if you’re an avenger/shield agent and fall in love with the silver fox that is Agent Everett Ross then there is no hiding the world of heroes from your children. After getting married/being partners for a long time you both eventually have/adopt a couple of kids and raise them in the New York/Quantico area.

Considering they grew up with parents who were federal agents, they were likely drawn to the field of criminology, intelligence, security, etc. Or possibly were talented when it came to mechanics, math, physics. Either which way you’re kids were top of their classes and managed to attend some of the most prestigious schools in the county. MIT, NYU, Cornell would be knocking on y’all’s door with scholarships and grants just to have your kids attend.

If you’re living in New York then they’d attend Midtown with Peter, MJ, and Ned. Of course with Peter being Spider-Man and knowing you, there’s a chance your kids knew his secret before the others. Hell, wouldn’t be surprised if Peter may have fanboyed when he learned that you were the parent of his friends. “That’s so cool your parents are agents—and one is an avenger!” “Only thing that sucks about it is I can never hide anything. Bad grades, relationships, sneaking out at night. They’ll always know.”

I can see you having a daughter who was like Everett with passions for intelligence. She’d come to his office just to watch him work and get a feel of what it was like to be an agent. When it came to intuition she was a natural at catching when something was suspicious. She was also great at analyzing—whether it be data, a crime scene, or body language.

Your son would have interests similar to you—wanting to be in the field or creating inventions that gave him abilities. He was very hands on, loved working on cars or building things from scratch. Don’t be surprised if he noted Bruce Banner or Tony Stark as his idols.

If your kids were into sports you’d go to every game. If they loved the arts you went to every performance, gallery, recital. Sometimes you’d be running late because of work, but you always made it up to them by taking them out to dinner or ice cream to get that quality time in. It was hard being a superhero and raising children, but with Ev by your side you both were able to put a healthy balance on things.

Early on your children were taught self-defense. Boxing, marital arts, how to disarm someone, and everything in between that would help them kick someone’s ass if they were attacked. Being that you and Everett’s jobs come with enemies there is always that risk they would target your kids. “You must be quick and sharp—anything less will give them the advantage.” “You know,” *catches breath* “This is really some parent-child bonding you got going on.” “Quality time, training, and life lessons all wrapped into one. Ain’t that something.”

When the topic of your kids joining the Young Avengers arose, you both were very hesitant. They were in college or about to graduate and your daughter had even applied for the CIA with your son building a prototype suit. It got the attention of a lot of people and you were already dealing with the stress of the Thunderbolts forming. “They are kids, Everett! They cannot handle the things we see—at least not yet!” “Believe me, honey, I agree with you. But they are technically adults and it’s not like they’ll be alone. They want us, Sam, Strange, Carol and Okoye to supervise them.” It did little to ease your worry, but at least you’d have some say in the matters.

No longer were you and Ev just their parents, but also their bosses. You both had control along with the other Avengers over whether or not the Young Avengers would get involved in conflicts. First thing that took place of course was months of training and teaching the kids (even if they were adults you still looked at them as kids) what and what not to do in a situation. Last thing y’all wanted was another Accords scenario.

“C’mon send us out! We can help you guys!” “You know the deal—once you pass your field exams then you can do missions. Until then you’re grounded here.”

“If Hydra’s been behind it the whole time then does that mean you guys didn’t check to see that you got them all in 2015?” “Honey, please, do not remind me because I’ll only get angry—not at you but at the situation. I need to have a word with Fury on what the hell went wrong.”

While you may be strict with the Young Avengers, best believe if someone insulted, attacked, or patronizing toward them you’d go ape shit. Oh and if Secretary Ross were to try something….Let’s just say Everett once had to pull you back from doing something that would’ve had you arrested. “He doesn’t have the right to get involved in what they do—or threaten them with prison after they saved the world!” “And don’t give him the satisfaction of locking you up, Y/n. You know he’s waiting for us to step out of line.”

If there is one thing the government realized quick when you and Everett decided to expand the Ross’ legacy, is to never underestimate a family full of heroes.

#everett ross headcanon #everett ross x yn #everett ross x reader #everett ross fanfiction #everett ross imagine #everett ross #everett ross x you #everett k. ross #martin freeman #marvel fanfiction #avengers #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel headcanon #avengers headcanon #avengers fanfiction

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carcrash429 · 1 year

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Fic Rec Friday

(template acquired from @sugaraddictarchangels)

A Good Feeling by dentalfloss [no tumblr] (Words: 81,313 - Chapters: 10/10)

Rated: Teen+

Warnings: None

Relationships: None

Summary:

“You work for SHIELD” Barton spat the agencies title at Coulson as though it were the nastiest cuss he knew. “We have nothing more to talk about.” Which was all good and fine, except-

“I have some things to discuss with you, actually,” Tony said and Clint’s bruised and swollen gaze turned towards him. “Many things. Nice things,” he tagged on when Clint’s gaze narrowed darkly. The kid might be passing out in slow motion before them but Tony was well aware he was still a threat and he made no move to approach. “Let me help,” he insisted anyway.

Or: the one where Clint may be a pretty formidable assassin for hire, but he was broke and his brother needed help he couldn’t afford so he needed a legitimate job for a little while. How fortunate Stark Tower was hiring.

Notes + Quotes:

Look okay, at this point y'all know I love a good Clint-centric gen fic and this is actually one of the best ones out there.

the plot is interesting the side characters are great the characterization of Clint is *amazing* I ADORE this characterization of Clint. Holy. Shit. I love a good story about competent Clint and honestly? Competent Clint Shmompetent Clint, this is tagged with BAMF Clint and Genius Clint and that's almost underselling it?? He is PHENOMENAL.

He steals textbooks to read for funsies:

“Technology, Science, and Common Sense,” he read the title aloud, and flipped the cover open to scan the index. This looked like it had a lot of math and mechanics. His favourite kind. He kicked his boots up on Barney’s bed and began.

He does absurdly cool fighting moves:

“Did you just deflect the bullet back at him with your nunchucks?” Tony demanded, because there was no way this guy was fast enough—

“He had tells as big as your ego,” Ronin said, re-holstering the weapon and looking at his arm briefly, like he was casually checking that it was still attached before he moved on."

He's allllllllways paying attention:

Sam pointed out, thinking about how the guy, who might be twenty, had kept an eye on them the entire time they’d been within line of sight. Tony might not have noticed, but Sam was highly trained, and he’d seen the way they’d been checked out through the reflections in the kitchen appliances.

He's a sassy little shit:

“Yes, the blinding-beacon of Truth, Justice, and the American Way ran into this bathroom, a room with only one exit, to escape his stalkers. Clearly he’s a paragon of strategic planning.”

He's righteously grumpy and defensive:

“We thought we saw Steve Rogers—” She started, and Clint cut her off.

“Considering this is the second time I’ve met you, and both times you’ve been trying to find the guy after nine at night, I think you should take some time to deeply consider that you’re bordering on stalking tendencies and recognize that that is both a crime and fucked-up.”

I don't have a description for this one it just makes me laugh:

“So, a person with a bow and arrow showed up and killed Gamashin, basically saving all of your lives, and then ran like hell because, what, he doesn’t actually like us?”

And he is desperately, DESPERATELY, in need of no-strings-attached kindness someone please give this man a hug:

“No. You can tell her yourself if you come for dinner,” Anton suggested. Clint tripped over nothing. Dinner? Like at someone’s house? They must be crazy inviting him. Or maybe they were contract killers playing the long game. Who also knew he’d one day end up working at Stark Tower. They could be pre-cog contract killers.

Also the reveal at the end where they all find out who he is / what he's been up to is so, SO satisfying just *chef's kiss*

#fic rec #clint barton #hawkeye #ronin

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swaps55 · 1 year

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2022 Writing Wrap Up

Tagged by @commander-krios. Thank you!

I wasn't going to do one of these things because I didn't think I'd accomplished as much as I have in the past couple of years, but I am thankful you tagged me, because when I looked at it, there was a lot to be proud of, and I think it's important when we work so hard to sit back and RECOGNIZE what we've done, instead of just dwelling on what we haven't.

Total Words Published: 122,327. I think. I had to do math, and my math is never trustworthy. I don’t think I forgot anything? I might have. Part of me feels like I shouldn’t get credit for Concerto, because it was more or less a rewrite, but at the same time it was a lot of work so I should get credit, heh.

Additional Words Written: 27,923. This only counts drafts I intend to actually publish some day (namely two entire Fugue chapters, the beginning of a third one, and Cadenza, a fic that will get written eventually). It doesn’t include the scribbles that may or may not turn into something, or the discarded scenes that got rewritten. This number is probably MUCH higher, but I’m not doing that math.

Grand Total of Words: 150,250. I’m very happy with that. It felt like less.

Fandoms: Mass Effect. It is the only fandom I write for. I’m a one trick pony.

Highest Everything (raw kudos, hits, comments): Of fic published this year, Cantata reigns supreme in every category, even though a big hunk of it was earned in 2021. But the comments on the final chapter alone, which is definitely 2022, are mind blowing to me. Nothing I write will ever match the top kudosed stories in the Ao3 mshenko tag, but I’m floored at how much engagement Opus gets. I’ll take that over any metric.

Highest Kudos to Hits Ratio: I think it’s Hearstoppers Beyond the Veil. Which I find delightful. It’s such a silly, sweet fic.

New Things I Tried: Sam’s POV is off-limits in Opus, but I have some future scenes that I’m going to need in which he’s my only POV option unless I get creative. So I’ve gotten creative, and am doodling some things in 2nd person to see if I can get what I need while still filtering Sam through the eyes of someone else (in this case, a more omniscient narrator Sam is unaware of). I am pleased with the results so far enough to keep working at it.

Fic I Spent The Most Time On: Fugue. Every single chapter of Fugue feels like a dogfight. It’s such a difficult and complex story to navigate on every level. The story as a whole obviously has been the biggest time investment this year, but each individual chapter is like climbing a mountain.

Fic I Spent The Least Time On: Yours, which is a first kiss AU. It’s a fairly simple story, but it fell out of my head and onto the page with very little prompting from me, and I love it to pieces.

Favorite Thing I Wrote: It’s hard not to say Cantata or Fugue, but of the one-shots, I’ll give it to Space Talk because I got to make a cow-tipping joke and connect it to Arcturus.

Favorite Thing I Read: This is a very non-inclusive list. Sunset and Evening Star by @shadesofmauve, Trikalon by @dandenbo, Far From Comfortable by @screwyouflightlieutenant, Alke by @mallaidhsomo, red sky at morning by @shadoedseptmbr, we’ll dance this fading life away by @tiltingheartand, Eric and Stella's Cabo Adventure, by @writes-in-space, Friend of a Friend by @otemporanerys, in the deep dark by @urrone

Writing Goals for 2023: Finish Fugue (I am so close I can taste it) and (after a decent break), start Mezzo, Opus’ ME2 story.

New Works: Heartstoppers from Beyond the Veil, Space Talk, Concerto, Warm With You, Yours.

Tagging (no pressure!) @baejax-the-great, @mallaidhsomo, @screwyouflightlieutenant, @shadesofmauve. Hell, if I tagged you anywhere in this post, consider yourself tagged. And anyone who wants to feel proud of what they did this year? Do it and tag me back so I can cheerlead you.

BE PROUD OF YOUR WORK. If you didn't post anything? Be proud of what you wrote for yourself. Didn't write much? Be proud of your daydreams and ideas and OCs that rotate in your head like a rotisserie chicken. It's ALL worth celebrating. Tell me about it and I'll celebrate with you!

#how writing is written #2022 writing summary #ao3 wrapped #sort of?#sure why not

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katiesharms · 2 years

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if you let me down, let me down slow - ch. 2

fandom: top gun maverick, pairing: phoenix/hangman

rating: E (18+ only)

summary: It feels like a math problem: what do you do if you’re in a car that won’t stop? She and Jake are barreling towards something, maybe they always have been, and the brakes don’t work. She’s a pilot; she’s supposed to be good under pressure.

So she makes a decision.

read on ao3! chap 1

a/n: here's chapter 2! i'll post 3, which is more of a lil extended epilogue, tomorrow. as always, would love to hear your thoughts and ideas! always open to prompts as well.

The next week is brutal. Natasha hasn’t dealt with this level of G-force on her body since flight training, and though she’s more physically equipped for it now, it leaves her exhausted, feeling defeated, day after day. None of them are exceeding, or even meeting, expectations, the disorienting approach messing with their lasers, and the pull out of the canyon compressing their bodies so much that they can’t focus on anything but staying alive. How the hell she’s supposed to come out of that and fight SAMs is beyond Phoenix’s comprehension. She's never felt more demoralized and she can tell the others feel it too, even Hangman keeping his smart quips to a minimum.

And then a flock of birds hit her engines.

As frantic as she feels, Phoenix remains calm, running through the checklist from training, working with Bob to figure out the best path. This is what she trains for, how to deal with malfunctions and attacks, even of the bird variety. Through it all, she can hear Maverick’s voice in her head: what will you tell his family? What excuse is good enough?

They end up having to eject, the plane a lost cause. But she’s alive, and more importantly, the life that she’s responsible for is still here.

Phoenix has never once regretted her decision to fly with a backseater. She likes the companionship, having someone to work with and to look out for her like she’s looking out for him. It’s something she's talked about with Halo a lot. Both of them can fly the one-seater and have before, but when push comes to shove, they’d both choose the two-seater every time. It’s a lot of responsibility, but she likes it. She could go for the glory as a solo pilot, or she could let her competence and skill ensure not only her safety but that of her co-pilot. And when you find the right WSO, that bond can be like no other. Halo and Omaha have been inseparable since flight school, and Phoenix has a feeling that she and Bob will be the same after this.

But now, on the helicopter back to base, Phoenix wonders for the first time if she’s made the right decision. She’s fussing over him like an overly-concerned mother, despite the paramedics’ assurances that he’s okay.

“Phoenix.” Bob’s voice is calm, firm, and that stops her in her tracks. She meets his eyes and finds him watching her with an expression akin to worry. “I’m fine. We’re okay.” That’s her WSO, always steady.

“Are you sure?” She needs him to be honest. If he can’t trust her again, she needs to know. They can never go in the air together again if that’s the case.

“I’m sure. You did the best you could. Next time will be better.”

She lets out a quiet sigh of relief. The subtle reference to next time was all she needed, and Bob knows it. They’ll be okay.

When they land, they’re ushered into the hospital and told they have to stay overnight for observation. Both of them grumble at that, hopped up on the adrenaline of making it out and wanting to spend the night in their own rooms. They do, somehow, manage to convince the staff to let them share a room, and the two of them pile into the same bed together. It reminds her of how she and her sisters would share a bed as kids, and how they still do whenever they’re all back home at the same time.

Phoenix finally answers one of the millions of texts she has from everyone, telling them what room they’re in, and soon pilots are filtering in. Coyote’s there first, having gotten checked out earlier for his G-lock, but soon, the rest are arriving in twos and threes. Fritz and Omaha claim the empty bed, while Halo slides onto the couch next to Coyote. Yale and Harvard just plop down on the floor, since Fanboy and Payback have crammed themselves into the small armchair in the corner. She would laugh at the way they’re piled on top of each other if Bob wasn’t currently half in her lap, her arm slung around his shoulders. After spending hours in the air together, a pilot and a WSO can feel like two halves of one brain, rather than separate people. Bob’s weight is comforting, his warm body and steady heartbeat reminding her that they’re alive and that they’re in this together.

Hangman, to everyone’s surprise, takes the chair right next to the bed, kicking his shoes off to place his feet up next to Phoenix’s hip. She fake gags, but he just smirks at her and bumps her hipbone with his toes. The action makes her skin tingle at the point of contact. She decides she’s feeling magnanimous after the events of the day and allows it.

The only noticeable absence is Rooster, but no one comments on it. Everyone seems to understand that hearing a plane go down and his friends eject might have a negative impact on him, so no one decides the bring the room down by mentioning it. Instead, she and Bob launch into an overly dramatic retelling of their crash and rescue, all the aviators in the room laughing along with their ridiculous voices.

Soon, they’re all just talking to talk, bouncing off each other as the energy in the room remains high. It reminds Phoenix a bit of the Academy, when everyone would stay up late against their best interests, talking and laughing. Bonding under intense stress. It feels good to linger in the joy a bit, to forget the mission that’s brought them all there.

Rooster does show up eventually, wearing a sour expression and carrying something dark with him. He buries it quickly enough, though, and Phoenix lets him, figures he’ll tell her later when they can be alone.

Eventually, people start to leave, the reminder that training doesn’t stop tomorrow lingering over all their heads. As the room empties, Phoenix remembers that she’s being forced to stay at the hospital, and turns a bit grumpy. Bob, seeming to notice it, claims the bathroom first and heads off to get ready for bed. Phoenix starts gathering her stuff to move to the other bed and when she looks up, her eyes meet Jake’s. She would’ve thought he left with everyone else. She opens her mouth to ask what he’s doing here but he beats her to it.

“Are you okay?” He’s raking his eyes up and down her body with an almost clinical expression, as if he can see through her clothes for any damage.

“Yeah, remarkably. Just a gnarly bruise on my thigh from when we hit the ground, and one from the straps, but otherwise, no lasting damage.”

He studies her for a moment before responding “I meant psychologically.”

She opens her mouth and then closes it again, suddenly at a loss for words. No one’s asked her that yet, not the doctors, not Rooster, not even Bob. She hasn’t even thought about it yet.

Sensing her hesitancy, Hangman keeps going. “Bailing out of your aircraft can be rough in a lot of ways. I know it feels like an extension of yourself up there, but it’s not. You did the right thing, leaving it behind.”

Natasha really doesn’t know what to say to that. He’s diagnosed a problem she didn’t even know was there. She’s been, deep down, feeling guilty for abandoning the F-18, for destroying it. Running through what happened, again and again, she keeps finding ways she could’ve tried to salvage it.

“Thanks, Jake,’ she starts. “I-”

And then Bob comes out of the bathroom, which thank God for him because Phoenix had no idea what she was gonna say after that.

“Bagman?” he’s understandably confused. “What are you still doing here?”

“Forgot my phone.” Hangman picks his phone up from the side table and flashes them both an easy smile, the mask back in place. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way. See you two lovely ladies tomorrow.” And then he’s gone.

Bob watches her curiously as she tries to act normally, but it’s like she’s forgotten how. To avoid it all, she brushes past him into the bathroom. Once she shuts the door behind her, Phoenix places her hands on the sink and takes a few calming breaths, looking at herself in the mirror.

It’s all catching up with her, now that she’s alone. The events of the day. If Jake asked her now, would she still say she’s okay?

But she doesn’t have time for this, not now. So Phoenix shakes herself, splashes some cold water on her face, and takes a calming breath. All she has to do is make it through the next ten days alive, and then she can freak out.

When Phoenix is chosen, the humble part of her wants to say it’s a shock. But she’s not surprised at all; she and Bob are the best team here and to not chose them would’ve been a gross oversight by Maverick. She’s more shocked at Rooster getting picked over Hangman. It makes sense if she thinks about it. Rooster, if he puts his mind to it, is the best pilot they have. And now Maverick will be up there to ensure he makes it home.

When the choice is made, she looks at Hangman immediately. She can see it, the briefest look of devastation that floats across his face before the standard mask is back in place. It’s a shock to all of them, but to him especially. Phoenix thinks that this is the first time in his entire career that he’s been grounded. And he’s not even really grounded, having been chosen as the spare for the mission, waiting on standby. He’s never been good at waiting, though.

She’s sympathetic, really, about what he’s feeling. If she wasn’t chosen, Phoenix doesn’t know what she would do. It would be the biggest blow to her confidence in the world. So she’s worried about him, concerned about what he could be thinking.

When she tries to talk to him, before they board the carrier and are lost in the crush of people finding their rooms, he practically sprints the other way from her. She tries not the take it personally, but it sets her teeth on edge a bit. He stuck around after her ejection specifically to check in on her, but he won’t let her do the same?

Phoenix tries to distract herself in other ways, talking to Rooster, going over specs with Bob. Overall, though, everyone is feeling much too on edge. Everyone decides to call it early, determined to get as much sleep as possible.

That’s Natasha’s plan, too, until she has the dream again. She practically bolts out of bed when she wakes up, the momentum from the dream carrying over. It’s the worst fucking time in the world to have a dream about not being able to control a mode of transportation.

She’s too awake now, thinking about the dream, and thinking about how, last time, it led to that conversation with Hangman. Their relationship has changed a lot over the past few weeks, in between trying to learn how to not die. Or maybe it hasn't changed, but she’s just finally seeing it for what it is.

It feels like a math problem: what do you do if you’re in a car that won’t stop? She and Jake are barreling towards something, maybe they always have been, and the brakes don’t work. She’s a pilot; she’s supposed to be good under pressure.

So she makes a decision.

When he answers his door, he’s shirtless, pajama pants hanging low on his hips. His hair is soft, fluffy without the hair gel slicking it up and back. Despite being dressed for bed, he clearly wasn’t asleep, a lamp on in the corner of his room. Like her, he probably couldn’t relax.

He gives her a confused once over, taking in her sleep shorts and loose t-shirt.

“What, Rooster didn’t answer?”

“Shut the fuck up.” And then she’s kissing him. It’s harsh, aggressive, neither of them willing to cede any ground. With anyone else, she’d find it too much, the way his tongue wraps around hers, how their mouths practically swallow each other. But now, with Jake, it’s exactly what she needs. He tastes like toothpaste and the crappy chicken dinner they got on board, and he smells like pine and the generic shampoo they give all those on the carrier. It’s addicting.

She pushes him back into his room and onto his small bunk, slamming the door shut behind her. They’ve all been awarded the luxury of private rooms for this mission, a concession from the Navy for the difficulties of the mission. He falls back on the bunk easily, propping himself up with his elbows to watch her through hooded eyes. The intensity of his gaze sends a shock of heat through her.

It’s not like she hasn’t thought about this, intermittently, through the years. Jake’s movie star handsome, all sharp angles and hard muscles, and the arguing between the two of them can border on foreplay at times. She knows he’s thought about it too, from the way his eyes would follow her on nights out, how he would look at her like he wanted to devour her, even buttoned up on her ugly Academy uniform. She wants this, wants Jake, and not just as a way to burn off energy before a mission. She knows he feels the same way, even if they should probably talk about it.

He opens his mouth to say something, to probably ask what she’s doing, so Phoenix goes on the offensive again. She pulls off her thin t-shirt and climbs on the bed, bracketing his waist with her knees. She shoves her tongue back down his throat and runs her hands across his shoulders, digging her nails in just enough that she can hear him let out a small moan.

Not to be outdone, Hangman takes one of his hands and starts kneading her breast. He twists her nipple, just hard enough that arches her back into him, grinding down on where he’s already half hard. She can feel his self-satisfied grin as his lips leave her mouth and trail a path down her neck before nipping lightly at her collarbone. He continues down and kisses gently along the diagonal bruise from her ejection straps and then starts lapping at her other nipple. And God damn he’s good at this. Phoenix would be annoyed if she wasn’t so turned on, already feeling the slickness in her underwear.

She’s grinding down almost desperately on him now, and Jake removes his hand from her breast and starts snaking it into her sleep shorts. He runs his fingers lightly over her through her underwear and makes a satisfied hum when he finds her already wet. Pushing them aside, he sinks one finger into her slowly. The moan she lets out is a bit too loud for the thin walls of the carrier, and he notices immediately, recapturing her lips in a kiss. He swallows her next moan, more of a whine, as he adds a second finger.

He pumps his fingers in and out of her slowly, crooking them every couple of strokes in a way that leaves her wanting more. She tries to push down on them, to increase the pace, but he keeps it all frustratingly languid, occasionally flicking her clit with his thumb. The fact that she’s still wearing her shorts and underwear means he’s not at the ideal angle, his thrusts only so deep.

“Jake,” she practically whines against his lips.

“Yeah, baby?” And God, does he sound annoying.

“Now is not the time to be slow all of a sudden.” She emphasizes the point with another futile thrust of her hips down on his fingers.

“I dunno, I think we’re having fun.” He pumps his fingers one more time, curling them against her g-spot, before pulling them out completely. She could kill him. “You should lay down on your back.”

She practically snorts, feeling nowhere near generous. “No.”

“You’ll like it, I promise.” He’s giving her the trademark Seresin grin, the kind that’s led many women to their demise, she’s sure.

“And if I don’t?’ she asks, already swinging her legs off him.

“You will.”

And then he drops to his knees on the hard floor of the carrier, pulling her shorts and underwear off in one fell swoop. He gives her one introductory lick, a swipe of his tongue up her slit, and a tap on her clit. Then, he’s eating her pussy like he’ll be awarded a Medal of Honor for it. He’s more enthusiastic than she would have ever assumed, though she should’ve guessed based on his clear oral fixation. His hands holding her hips down is the only thing stopping her from lifting totally off the bed as he dips his tongue into her and then swirls it around her clit. When he shoves three fingers into her, it’s without preamble, and the shock of it has her arching her back. He sets a much quicker pace than before, pushing in and out of her quickly. When she comes, she remembers last minute to turn her head into the pillow to muffle the noise. Poor Bob next door doesn’t need to hear his pilot have the best orgasm of her life.

After she comes, Jake thrusts his fingers a few more times slowly, easing her out of it, before removing himself from her entirely. He crawls over her on the bed, and she can see that his face is shiny. When she cups it, she can feel her own wetness on her fingers, and when she kisses him, it’s all she can taste.

She nudges him gently until he gets the hint and lays back so she can straddle him across his chest. She kisses along his neck and then down his torso, pausing to bite lightly around his nipple. When she reaches his pajama bottoms, she slides them down and pulls his cock, now fully hard, out. She gives him a few tugs, pleased with the way his eyes flutter shut when she brushes her thumb against the tip.

“Gotta condom?” she asks, hoping her voice isn’t as breathless as she feels.

“Why, not gonna return the favor?” It would have more bite if he wasn’t currently thrusting up into her loose hold.

“Next time,” she says, and his eyes do open slightly at that, at the implication.

“There should be some in my bag.” He nods towards one of the corners of the room.

As she walks towards it, she does so slowly, almost sauntering. As she leans down to rifle through the bag, she sends a smirk over her should back at him and she can hear him groan as she bends over.

She finds the condoms fairly quickly, a strip of three tucked in a side pouch of his bag.

“Expecting to get lucky?” she teases as she holds them up, walking back to bed.

“I had my hopes.” The way he’s looking at her sends a shiver down Natasha’s spine, like he knew this would happen, or he at least hoped.

She rolls the condom down on him easily and lines him up with her entrance before sinking down on him slowly. The stretch is incredible, and when she’s taken him to the hilt, she wants to revel in the feeling of being full. She takes a few minutes to adjust, clenching around him and rotating her hips, until Jake’s groan reverberates through her.

“Now you’re the one being slow,” he complains, and she takes the bait.

She sets a brutal pace, rising off of him and slamming back down quickly. He matches it after a few moments, thrusting his hips up to meet hers as they come back down, and soon the two of them are in sync. He pulls himself up a bit to capture one of her breasts with his mouth and she snakes a hand down to where they’re joined to rub her clit.

Soon, she’s coming again, Jake not far behind her, and she practically collapses on top of him. The burn in her muscles feels so satisfying that she doesn’t want to move. She only does so enough to pull off of Jake and dispose of the condom in the trashcan next to the bed. Then, she curls back down next to him.

He doesn’t seem to mind that she’s made no move to leave, pulling her closer to him as she throws her leg across his, and her arm across his chest. They’re both silent for so long, as their breathing evens out, that she thinks he fell asleep. And then he speaks.

“So are we gonna talk about it?” His voice is tired but determined.

“What’s there to talk about?” She’s deflecting and they both know it.

“Why it’s the night before a suicide mission and you decided to spend it with me, fucking each other’s brains out.”

She wants to squirm, but Hangman’s arm is firm around her, holding her into place against him. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Really?”

She looks up at him and finds that he’s already looking at her. His tone says that he knows she’s joking, but his expression says that if she isn’t, he might not be able to handle it. It’s so vulnerable, so earnest, that she drops their game immediately.

“No. I mean, I couldn’t sleep, but that’s not why I’m here.”

He laces her fingers with his, laying them against his chest, right under his heart. “So why are you here?”

“Do you ever think about it? About us? If we could work, if it’s a good idea?”

His eyes are soft when he whispers, “all the time.”

Sometimes, she feels like Jake is the car. She’s trying her best, giving it all, just asking it to stop. Not just slow, but stop. Hangman’s never been still, never stopped, or even slowed.

Other times, she thinks that she’s the car.

They’re more alike than either of them will ever admit. Competitive to a fault, arrogant, but with the skills to back it up. Phoenix flies with a backseater because she knows she’ll get him home. By choosing a two-seater, she’s taking someone’s life in her hands. Hangman’s God complex may be flashy and noticeable, but hers is there too, under the hard exterior of competence.

So she can understand why Hangman doesn’t stop; she doesn’t think she’d ever be able to either. Phoenix knows that Rooster’s gonna get out eventually, if not after this mission, then in a few years. He doesn’t fly for the sake of flying, like she does. Like Jake does. He flies to prove something and for the longest time she couldn’t figure out what. She knows, now, that it’s something to do with his dad and Maverick. And that’s why he’s never fully committed, his heart never all the way in.

But she and Jake, both of them can never do anything halfway. They’ll always be going for it full throttle, never able to stop the car. It’s what got them both to this point in their careers, what caused them to butt heads so much early on. It’s also what’s kept them apart. They both know, deep down, that their more likely to end their careers in a body bag than with an honorable discharge, and the specter of that looming over their heads has kept them from pursuing something real.

But something about a suicide mission has Phoenix thinking that maybe they could do it. Maybe it’s the comforting beating of Jake’s heart against her palm or the way he curls his hand around her waist like it’s the only thing keeping her together, but she thinks they could figure it out. Beyond the clear sexual and romantic compatibility, they understand one another in ways no one else does. Thye have the same job, are stationed at the same base. It could work, she thinks, if they both really try.

“I’ll tell you what,” she says softly. “If I make it back in one piece, we can try this for real.”

He breaks out into a smile, one so unlike the smirks he gives out at work or the sly grins at the bar. This one’s all Jake, no Hangman present. “Well, baby, that’s a sure thing with your flying.”

She rolls her eyes at that but otherwise doesn’t respond.

Phoenix wakes up before Hangman and extracts herself as gently as possible from his near-octopus grip. Who would’ve thought he was a cuddler? She doesn’t leave a note or anything, nothing they need to say to each other that they haven’t already, and she’ll see him in an hour as they’re prepping the planes anyway.

After a quick shower to wash the smell of sex and the sweat and spit off her body, she changes into her flight suit, eats a small breakfast (she learned the hard way that you should never fly on an empty stomach), and heads up to the deck.

Rooster and Bob are already there, and Payback and Fanboy arrive shortly after. Hangman comes up not too much later, and she can feel his eyes lingering on her as she and Bob run through their pre-flight checklist.

When they’re done, she turns to go talk to Maverick about something and finds Hangman still standing there.

“You forgot something from your list,” he says, and she furrows her brow. Their list is perfect.

“What?”

“You forgot ‘come back’,” he says, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards. “You’re not getting out of this that easy.”

She rolls her eyes but pulls out the list again. She writes, across the bottom, right under “landing gear”, “COME BACK” in big letters.

“I’ll check it off once it’s accomplished.”

The mission itself proceeds, surprisingly, fairly easily. The path is almost muscle memory at this point for Phoenix, after weeks of flying it in simulations and in the air. And following Mav is certainly easier than following Fritz or Coyote.

Getting to the target, dropping the bomb, getting out of coffin corner, it all happens in under 5 minutes. Then, they’re dodging SAMs, relying on one another to make it out alive. This is what she’s always excelled at, the fighter part of being a fighter pilot, and she has Bob behind her, guiding her.

She’s so in the zone that she doesn’t realize Maverick’s been hit until Rooster screams it over the comms. Even as she’s speaking, she knows it’s useless to try and convince him to leave Maverick behind, and sure enough, he ignores direct orders and ends up shot down himself.

Phoenix can’t blame him though. If she didn’t have someone’s life in her hands in her backseat, she might’ve done the same.

Once they land on the carrier, it’s an excruciating waiting game. Hangman asks multiple times for permission to launch search and rescue and is denied. She wonders how long they’ll keep all of them here waiting before they call it, how long they’ll make Jake sit there in the cockpit of a plane he’s not allowed to use.

The four of them who flew are surrounding a radio on the deck, straining their ears for sounds of life. It’s nearing an hour when Natasha feels herself abandoning hope when, against all odds, Rooster pops back up on the radar. Hangman finally gets to use his plane, and she waits, on edge, for any sign, any clue, as to what’s happening.

It’s silent for a while, and then.

“This is your savior speaking.” God, he’s annoying. She might be a little bit in love with him.

The four of them scream in relief, piling onto each other in one giant aviator hug. She’s on top of the fucking world. They just pulled off an impossible mission with no casualties, with two of them flying a fucking antique.

When the boys land, their planes are swarmed with people, Phoenix being one of them. She watches the two of them exchange some weird macho acknowledgment before she makes her presence known. She hugs Hangman for longer than is probably appropriate but she can’t help it, the adrenaline still pumping through her veins.

“So,” he says as they pull apart, “you made it back.”

She smiles softly. “I did.” And then she remembers. “Holy shit.”

“What?” Jake looks not unalarmed.

“Bob!”

“What about BOB?” He sounds almost offended. But he’ll definitely be thanking her later.

“Oh, you’ll see.”

And they do, later that night, as they’re all getting drunk in the canteen, everyone else on the ship giving them a wide enough berth.

“Holy shit is right.” Jake’s mouth is open in shock as they watch Bob launch into the second verse of the Outkast song. “Baby on board my ass.”

She giggles, leaning into him a little. “I told you; there’s many layers to our Bob.”

“Goddamn, this is impressive. You been hiding this from me Trace?”

“He only told me about it, never showed me. This is my prize for bringing us home.”

“Speaking of that,” he rounds on her, a determined look on his face. “So, we’re gonna do this? A real relationship?”

“Why? Does that scare you?” She wouldn’t judge him if it did. It scares her a little bit.

“No,” and she believes him, his voice sincere. “Not with you.”

She beams up at him. “Okay, but you have to promise to be less of an asshole.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Sure, but you have to promise to be less judgemental.”

She glares at him, but there’s no heat to it, and she tilts her head to the side like she’s considering his proposal.

“You have a deal.” She holds out her hand, and he glances down at it, mirth dancing across his face. “C’mon, we’ll shake on it.”

He snorts but grasps her hand with his own. After giving it a firm shake, he uses the leverage to pull her towards him, capturing her in his arms. He tilts her chin up towards hers and kisses her. It’s different from their earlier kisses, gentler and softer. She melts into it, wrapping her arms around his neck.

They break apart at the sound of a pointed clearing of a throat, and when she looks away from Jake, she sees their whole contingent, including, embarrassingly, Maverick, watching them with various degrees of shock on their faces. She’s pretty sure Rooster’s jaw is unhinged.

It’s Payback who finally says something. “Now what the fuck is this?”

She resists the urge to giggle as Jake slings his arm around her shoulder, pulling her towards him.

“It’s relatively new,” she tells them.

“Yeah,” Jake’s smirking, a little bit of Hangman poking through. “And it has some legs, so no funny little jokes.” He shoots them all a look, and Payback hides a snort behind a cough.

“Why?” Fanboy asks. “Gonna keep us in line?”

“No, but she will.”

Phoenix rolls her eyes at that and accepts the whooping from the boys. Rooster still looks a little unsure, so she knows that will take some real conversation. But overall, the reception is nice.

She leans up to whisper in Jake’s ear. “Don’t you have two more condoms we could be using?”

A delicate blush starts rising out of his flight suit and up the back of his neck. “Sorry boys, but my girl and I have some urgent matters to attend to.” He practically sweeps her away at that, and she throws up her middle finger behind her when she hears wolf-whistles from the peanut gallery.

“So you think we have legs, huh?” she asks as they stumble through the narrow hallway towards his room.

“Have you seen yours, babe? We could go miles.” He’s teasing, but there’s a seriousness underneath the words. She’s gotten very good at reading between the lines with him over the years.

“Yeah,” she agrees, “we could go a long way.”

#my writing #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #phoenix x hangman #hangman x phoenix #hannix #jake 'hangman' seresin #natasha 'phoenix' trace

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storiesofsvu · 2 years

Text

happy thursday its l& o time

spoilers thoughts opinions and random ramblings under the cut

Okay, I know they’re undercover but OC seems to be shoving Jet & Jamie together and that gives me the ick because the actors are like, 13 years apart or something. And I get we can age up or down, but I always base of the actors ages so im uncomfortable here…. LOL.

Man… these guys are always SO obvious when they’re trailing, or like, staking someone out from a car, also, ive seen this chase scene already so I know what’s up, BUT, also ive gotta say, her little parkouring is literally just flashy, it’s not saving her ANY time than if she was just continuing to run. If she wasn’t showing off, she probably could’ve escaped.

Okay…does this case/jewelry shit have ANYTHING to do with the casino bitches?? Or are we now doing one BIG case/arc in the background for the entire season and smaller cases for each episode or two? Like the showrunners don’t know what they’re doing with OC….

Well that was some lazy explanation to cover stablers mom not being there and Eli’s in COLLEGE? Are we SURE? Is the math correct on that?

Yeah this Italian chick is annoying, I do not trust her, and she’s literally an olivia knockoff (again, no bensler shipping here…) BUT REALLY?? *sigh*

AYANNA!!!! FUCKKKK!!!! Dem HIPS girl!! I am looking *disrespectfully*

Okay…Jet clearly isn’t the same age of Ainsley if jet was married when she was 20 and it’s clearly been a while now. I don’t like that….

Is this…like..trafficked girl UC cop breaking cover to help her, has a kid back home… is this not the EXACT plot line from last season with elliot and that girl from the diner? This is lazy…just lazy…im literally only here for Ayanna and jet

Fuck AYANA is so pretty! (and also clearly divorced because no lesbian is doing their nails like that….)

Okay. I got bored during a commercial break and looked it up. Eli was born in s9 ep Paternity. That aired in 2007. It’s 2022. ELI IS FUCKIN 15 YEARS OLD AND HE LAZY WRITING/NOT CARING ABOUT SHIT LIKE THIS MEANS that he’s in college, in a different state, at 15. Not to mention… he was only 3 years old when he moved to Italy, he would’ve gone to Italian schools, he would have an Italian accent. Jfc. Why couldn’t they just say that he went to live with Kathleen??

Okay…mothership time.

Lets be honest, I’m not paying attention to this shit until Samantha’s on screen so I doubt I’ll have much to say LOL.

JFC there are SO many extras/guest stars that have been on a l&o show multiple times before. This is getting ridiculous. Can some more actors relocate to nyc pls?

Ugh can we stop bringing up covid please?? I know it’s all “pull from reality” but cmon…

OH MY GOD A PURPLE SUIT SAM?!?! FUCCCCCKKK ME!

Okay….okay…hear me out… if I end up writing power high femme sam x casual/bottom muncy….don’t come for me…..

“met the old fashioned way, drunk as hell in a biker bar in queens” fuck I love kate

Also there was a whole lot of shying away from terms of specific gender in that dating/partner talk…and tonights ep was directed by the person who played the og lesbian in this franchise… THAT’S SUSPICIOUS…

SAM!! NOW THE TURQUOISE!!??? DID SHE RAID RITAS CLOSET THIS WEEK OR SOMETHING?!!?! (I LOVE IT)

Okay…imma need WAY more background info on what sam’s story is… cause I just know there’s some shit that’s gone down, like I want that history…

Okay. SVU here we go!

Is amanda gonna fangirl tonight or is muncy gonna take that spot? Cause we all know molly loves sports and they do like to add/write in things of the personal actors lives…

I stand corrected… its joe… awe.. poor guy’s by himself?? You KNOW one of the girls would’ve gone with him!

What hotel did they film at? I need to know for fic reasons…wait…is this the homeland hotel…?? (s6 when they were in nyc)

Mothership ended with Sam saying she had a date, the perp in svu mentions having a date and you tell me why im expected sam to pop up over here LOL.

Yaaaasss molly coming in with the title card! A kween! (truly did think we’d have to wait until after amanda was gone but I guess I was wrong about that)

Okay, called muncy being an American football fan, adore that they added that in there.

I LEGITIMATELY CANNOT TELL IF THESE TWO ARE SUPPOSED TO BE FLIRTING OR IF THEY’RE SUPPOSED TO HAVE BROTHER/SISTER SASSY VIBES!!?!????

Octavio with the fucking *hand* thing again jesus

LOL fin… I love you… sweet talkin and bringing people food to get ahead in the case LOL

UGH FUCKING MCGRATH CAN YOU PLEASE GO OFF A CLIFF ALREADY?!?

Muncy simply cannot be straight when she’s sitting on desks like that…. That IS A QUEER

GRACE FINALLY GOT HER CHEETOS!! YAY!

“the vending machine was out of kale” LOL also lol to joe being all health conscious…

THE BRIGHT TEAL HENLEY!! PLEASE!! JOE!! I AM WEAK

Omg grace fake fangirling, I love it

Where the fuck is carisi??

Dude…. You KNOW the cops are there..why the fuck are you now pulling a gun??

Okay so I will admit, I wasn’t paying too much attention to the case at hand, or the perp, like im literally just here to thirst over people at this point but that wasn’t a bad episode. Definitely the best out of the three for tonight. Still pissed that we don’t seem to get to go to court anymore. I also DESPERATELY miss the recurring guest stars that came along with court rooms, defence attorneys and judges and the like. *sigh* maybe next week. 2 more eps with amanda. Do we think they’ve been clowning us with those BTS pictures/videos or will that shit actually happen?

#law and order #law and order organized crime #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law and order spoilers

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realgoogleclassroom · 3 days

Note

You by no means have to answer all of these, there's a lot of em

2. is your room messy or clean?

3. what color are your eyes?

4. do you like your name? why?

13. any siblings?

14. if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?

18. favorite tv show?

20. how tall are you?

27. do you have a job? what do you do?

33. favorite actor?

36. favorite movie?

37. do you read a lot? whats your favorite book?

39. do you have a nickname? what is it?

40. how many times have you been to the hospital?

41. top 10 favorite songs

49. what was the last compliment you received?

50. what was the last text you sent?

do you go to college?

55. what is your dream job?

59. do you smile for pictures?

67. what are your hobbies?

69. do you play an instrument?

70. what was the last concert you saw?

77. do you miss anyone right now?

85. what shirt are you wearing?

86. what is your phone background?

94. favorite lyrics right now

95. summer or winter?

96. day or night?

97. dark, milk, or white chocolate?

98. favorite month?

2. very, very messy

3. green

4. I'm not a huge fan, but I think that comes with the whole 'being not cisgender'

13. I have a brother who's 5 years older than me

14. hmmm, I'd go with Ontario. It's got a climate I'm used to (I'm from Michigan), and a higher quality of life than the US

18. It's between GF, Amphibia, TOH, and ATLA

20. 5'10"

27. I work part-time at a local ice cream parlor

33. Robin Williams. He was a gem in every single movie he appeared in

36. Mulan, I still can't figure out if it's because of the trans metaphor or the banger songs

37. I don't read nearly as much as I used to, but I still read quite a bit (mostly AO3), I would have to say my favorite book is The Heroes of Olympus: House of Hades. I just think Percy's arc in that book is really interesting to read

39. Well, my main blog (dabouse) is actually a nickname that some of my friends use for me at school. It comes from my last name, but (obviously) I'm not telling more

40. as a patient? only 2 times, I was born premature, so I spent a while there, then I had 3rd degree burns on my hands when I was 18 months old. As a visitor? more times than I care to count

41. (least to most favorite) Don't Stop Me Now, Piano Man, The Last Midnight, Shostakovich Cello Concerto, Bohemian Rhapsody, Defying Gravity, Bach Cello suite in G, For Good, Dvorak Symphony 9, Elgar Cello Concerto (In case it's not obvious, I am a classical music nerd, and a theatre kid)

49. uhh, idk, probably someone telling me how 'great' I am at cello or something

50. "Did you figure out something for dinner? I'm at Sam's Club" To my father, about an hour ago

54. I am not currently going to college, but I hope to after I graduate HS

55. Music and Math teacher, hence why I chose Google Classroom for the gimmick blog

59. yes

67. Playing my cello, reading, video games, and playing piano

69. Yes, I have played Cello since I was in 2nd grade, so almost 10 years now. I started playing double bass in 8th grade, and I started on piano back this February. Not to brag, but I think I'm pretty good at Cello

70. I saw a performance of the Carmina Burana by Carl Orff about a week ago

77. I miss my grandmother, who passed away August of '22

85. My HS Theatre Department shirt

86. a picture of my doggo

94. from You Didn't Know, "If Hell is forever then Heaven must be a lie/If angels can do whatever, and remain in the sky/The rules are shades of gray when you don't do as you say/When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again

95. Winter. Sure, driving's a pain, but I don't exactly appreciate 90 degree weather either. It's much easier to put on more layers than it is to take off.

96. Night. The sun is bright

97. Dark chocolate

98. November, it's getting to be cold, which is nice, but there isn't 3 feet of snow yet.

#google classroom is the best #google classroom #classroom #google classroom answers

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golbrocklovely · 3 years

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remember me // colby brock (pt 2)

A/N: as i mentioned before in a different post, this took me FOREVER to write. i loved writing this story but something about it just made me drag it out for so long. nonetheless, i love this and i'm excited to see what you all think. please lmk what you thought about this. thank you to everyone that has supported me and sent me kind messages. yall are the best ! hope you enjoy :) also lmk if you want another part...

prompt: she's the only one that remembers colby, or so they both thought.

trigger warning: ANGST, heartbreak, AU mention, friendship problems, cursing, happy-ish ending (but not the end...?), kissing

word count: 5526

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Colby was relieved that the waitress, the only one that remembered him, decided to help. The moment she agreed, Colby gave her his number and left. She texted him not too long after, and he realized for a moment she never said her name. He planned to ask her the next day when they decided to meet up at his place.

It was weird to come back to his apartment, knowing that down the hall his best friend, his brother, lived there and didn't know who he was. Usually when Colby felt lonely, he would walk down the hall to Sam's and hang out for a bit. It was always nice to talk to Sam about anything and everything.

But now... he couldn't do that.

Colby tried to sleep during the night, but barely any rest came from it. He tossed and turned, hoping that when he would wake up, this would all just be some weird-ass nightmare.

When his cell phone rang the next morning at 9:34 A.M., it was an unfamiliar ringtone. As he rubbed his eyes awake, he glanced at the caller, the name 'Waitress' appearing on his screen.

I guess this wasn’t a dream after all.

"Yeah?" Colby groaned, squinting his eyes at the sunlight.

Her voice came through cheery, the tone too loud in Colby’s ears. “Let me up to your apartment. I'm here.”

He cleared his throat. “This early?”

“I figured you would want your normal life back as soon as possible, yeah?” She sassed.

He rolled his eyes. “Alright, give me a second. I'll come down and get you.”

Colby stumbled out of bed, running his fingers through his hair as he threw on a random shirt and jeans, slowly trudging down to the lobby of his apartment. She sat on a couch, tapping her foot against the carpeted floors. Her eyes were staring out the door, almost like she was looking at someone. When she heard Colby’s footsteps, her gaze pulled away from outside.

“Did I wake you?” She frowned, grabbing her bag next to her and standing up.

He shook his head. “You can't really be woken up if you barely slept.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” She lightly bit her lip, following Colby to the elevator.

He shrugged tiredly. “It's okay.”

They both slowly got into the elevator, climbing up to Colby's floor. The loud 'ding' of the elevator broke their silence moments later. They walked to Colby's apartment, and he unlocked his door quickly.

She whistled quietly. “Woah, nice place.”

A half smile spread across Colby’s face. “Thanks.”

“No offense, but how do you pay for this place if you're not a social media person?” She questioned, stepping into the kitchen.

He raised an eyebrow. “That's... a good question. From what my mom told me over the phone yesterday, I worked all throughout high school and college, so maybe it's from that?”

“You only worked at Dairy Queen while you were in high school. You must have gotten a better job in college because there is no way you can afford this place.” She disagreed.

Colby smirked. “How'd you know I worked at Dairy Queen?”

“Well, for starters, my friend told me. And also, I did some research about you. But I'll get to that in a second.” She continued, her voice falling to a serious tone, “So... would you like to hear my theories?”

“Theories?” He puzzled.

“As to why everyone forgot about you.” The waitress explained.

Colby sat down on his barstool, exhaling. “Let's hear it.”

“Okay. For argument sakes, you're gonna have to just go with me on this. Because otherwise, I literally have no way to help you.” She started, already pacing slightly.

He cautioned. “...okay?”

“So last night, I tried to think of a reason why everyone would collectively forget about you. And the only conclusion I could come up with is that you're in an alternative universe.” She hypothesized.

Colby’s eyes widened, bugging out of his head. “A what?”

“An alternative universe. Basically, everything is pretty much the same in your life, except a few minor details,” she revealed. “That’s why you still live in this apartment, but you didn’t get here the same way you did in your other life, your real life.”

“This... it's way too early for this.” He grumbled, astonished.

She sighed, her hands resting on her hips. “The only other option is that this is a very long-winded prank that your friends are still pulling on you. Have you tried talking to any of your other friends besides Sam?”

“No, everyone else’s number is gone in my phone, which I can only assume means they don’t know me either.” Colby retorted. Then he took a deep breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “But, this doesn't make sense. How did I end up here if this isn't my life?”

“I’m not sure how you got here, but I think you’re here for a specific reason. I think you’re here to right a wrong that this Colby Brock did. I’m just… not entirely sure what that wrong might be.” She answered, unsure.

He huffed. “Okay… what am I supposed to do then? Stay here and hope we figure that out soon? I don't even know who I am in this universe.”

“And that's where my research comes into play.” She pulled a laptop from her bag quickly, placing it down on the counter and opening it. She scrolled through her browsers until she came across Colby's Facebook, which surprisingly looked active for someone who hadn't been personally on it in years.

I use Facebook? Gross.

“First, I started by seeing if you and Sam were friends on here, but that didn’t amount to much since Sam doesn’t have a Facebook. However, what I found out is that you and Sam did live in the same town, go to the same high school, and played in the same marching band. Sam talked about his early years before he was ‘famous’ in one of the first videos he posted, and I crossed referenced that with your profile and it all matches up.” She informed.

“That's strange,” he mumbled. “What did we do after high school?”

She stated. “You went off to college and majored in Business Management with a minor in Philosophy. You graduated early too.”

Me? Graduating early? I couldn’t even get through math without Sam’s help.

“What did Sam do?” He asked.

The waitress scrolled to another tab, opening it to show a search of Sam. “Well, a very quick Google search shows that he actually went to the same college as you but dropped out once his Vine career started to pick up. Then he went on to Musical.ly when Vine died. He moved out to LA in 2017 and started a YouTube channel after he met Katrina, and slowly met all of his- your, friends that way. He got a bump of followers once he started dating Kat because of her following.”

Colby’s mouth gaped at her words. “That can't be true. He would have never wanted that. I mean, I had to convince him that we should be on social media so that we could spread our message. Plus, he hates those channels that use their relationship for views.”

“Not this version of Sam. Or at least, it doesn't seem like it.” She commented.

He covered his face, groaning into his hands. “What the hell am I here for? What wrong have I done in this universe?”

Her voice low, she replied. “I think it might have to do with Sam.”

“But... he doesn't know me.” He dissented, sitting up.

She nodded. “I thought so too. However, after scrolling through all of your public photos, I found this.”

Colby squinted at the screen, an old photo of him and Sam stared back. They looked super young, probably sophomores in high school. They were both smiling, laughing at something. He vaguely remembered this day.

“So, we did know each other.” He bit his lip softly.

She hummed. “Yeah. And weirdly, it’s the only photo of the two of you on your profile. But it’s not the only strange thing.”

Scrolling to a different tab, she pulled up an old tweet of Sam’s. It read ‘Never thought you would be the one to hurt me. But I guess everyone can be surprising.’

Colby noted the date. “That was back in high school.”

“Yeah, and there’s a bunch like them. He talks about being betrayed and someone hurting him deeply. He never mentions, of course. But his tweets line up with some that you were tweeting at the same time.” She confessed.

The waitress clicked on a different tab and another tweet showed up, one from Colby’s account. He gazed at it, reading the words ‘If you hate me… imagine how I feel about myself.’

Colby’s face dropped. “Wait, what?”

“You don’t tweet that often, but when you do, you talk about righting wrongs and fixing things you fucked up.” She added, “You also hate on yourself a lot.”

He doubted, crossing his arms. “You think they’re connected?”

“I do. I think in this universe you fucked up somehow and hurt Sam. And I think you are here now to fix what the other you did.” She explained.

He ranted. “This is all so fucked! When I saw him yesterday, he acted like he didn’t even know me. How am I supposed to even go about this? What, do I just go down the hall and apologize for something I don’t even remember doing?”

“No. Sam's not in his apartment anyway. I saw him leave while I was waiting for you.” She mentioned nonchalantly.

He grunted. “Great, he could be anywhere in LA right now.”

“I know exactly where he is.” She smirked.

“What? How?” He questioned.

The waitress divulged. “This version of Sam has a favorite restaurant he goes to all the time. A lot of his fans know about it, thus one look through any of his fan accounts and you'll see it. It's called ‘Paradise’.”

“Sounds like a strip club.” Colby deadpanned.

She pouted. “It's not. But he goes there all the time, and I got us a table there last minute.”

“What exactly are we gonna do when we get there?” He crossed his arms.

“I was planning on going up to his table and talking to him, maybe asking him about you, see how he reacts.” She described.

Colby furrowed his brow, confused. “And what about me?”

She slid her laptop into her bag, zipping it up hastily. “Well… I didn’t really think that far ahead. But hopefully, whatever you did is forgivable, and we can just fix it right there.”

He murmured. “That's a lot to hope for.”

“It's better than sitting here and wasting daylight.” She grabbed her stuff and headed for the door. Colby followed suit, grabbing his keys.

He spoke as he locked his door. “What if this doesn’t work?”

She turned back to him. “It will. It has to.”

~~~

Paradise was a themed restaurant, which Colby thought was strange because his Sam never really liked those types of restaurants. The theme was nice, however, tropical and Hawaiian. It felt like something he, Sam, and a few friends would have gone to after a fun, drunk night.

As Colby and the waitress were escorted to their table, they both kept an eye out for Sam, glancing around nervously for the blonde boy.

“I think the worst thing about this universe version of me is how messy my car is,” Colby joked. “It’s like I live out of it.”

She shrugged, smiling. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“You should see my real car. My honey wagon is spotless.” He expressed, waving his hand.

“Honey wagon?” She queried.

“Long story,” he chuckled. Then abruptly, he gasped. “Holy shit, I just realized I never got your name.”

She cocked her head. “What? I never told you?”

He blinked. “No.”

She started. “It's-”

“Hi, I'm Tony, I'll be your server for today. Can I get you something to drink to start you guys off?” Tony greeted, cutting her off.

“Yeah, sure. A water for me.” She blurted out.

Colby added. “Coke, please.”

Tony smiled. “Okay, coming right up.”

Once Tony left, the waitress started scoping out for Sam again, her eyes widening once she saw him.

Her body stiffened, turning back to Colby. “He's over there, three tables down to your left.”

Colby gazed over his shoulder at his friend. Sam looked lost in thought, staring at his phone as he ate his food.

“Why is he alone?” He muttered.

“From some of the blogs I read, he likes to go out and eat by himself. Also, apparently, him and Kat are on the rocks.” She admitted.

“They love each other so much, it's kinda gross to be around them sometimes,” He quipped, but shook his head. “So to hear that...”

“I'm gonna head over.” She announced quickly.

Before he could speak, she left the booth. Colby watched her walk over to Sam, listening closely to their conversation as he ducked his head down.

“Hey... sorry to bother you, but are you Sam Golbach?” She asked sweetly.

“Yeah I am. Did you want something?” Sam stared blankly at her.

“Um, yeah?” She almost scoffed at his tone. “I’m a huge fan and I know this might be a weird question, but do you know someone named Colby Brock?”

Sam’s face remained stoic, but his eyes intensified. “No, I've never heard of that name before.”

“Are you sure, because I'm pretty certain that you and him are best friends.” She insisted.

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

Colby watched nervously as she pulled out her phone and showed Sam the photo. Sam scrunched up his face, his eyes scanning the image. “Yeah, no. Still don’t know who he is. What was his name again?”

“Colby Brock.” She stated.

“...Sorry. I’ve never heard a name like that before.” He mumbled, almost inaudibly. “Sounds stupid anyway.”

She cocked her head. “Wait, what?”

Colby clenched his fist, unable to hear this conversation any longer. He needed to come face-to-face with Sam. He slid out of his seat, walking hastily over to Sam and the waitress. Sam’s eyes narrowed as he gaped at Colby.

“Sam…” Colby started.

Sam growled. “Are you fucking serious, Colby? Did you really have to get one of my fans involved?”

“What?” Colby puzzled.

Sam jumped out of his seat, grabbing Colby’s arm and pulling him out of the restaurant. The waitress followed behind them, confused just as much as Colby. Sam’s feet stopped behind the back door of the building, turning to Colby without warning.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sam barked.

Colby stepped back, surprised by Sam’s anger. “...Uh, I don’t know what you mean by that.”

Sam scoffed. “Why the fuck are you here? After all this time?”

“So, you do remember me.” Colby remarked.

“Yeah, I do. When you showed up at my place yesterday, it took me a minute to realize it was you, since you decided to dress up like a Hot Topic employee, but yeah, I knew it was you. Are you really gonna pretend in front of her that we don’t know each other?” Sam teared his eyes away from Colby’s, staring at the waitress suddenly. “Let me guess, he hasn’t told you the whole story, right?”

“I guess not.” She shrugged uncomfortably.

Sam chuckled darkly. “Of course not. If he told the whole story, he would have to admit he was an asshole, and God knows he’s not gonna do that.”

“What are you talking about?” Colby panted.

“Do you not remember? Well, I’ll give you a refresher. You and I became friends freshman year of high school. You were my best friend and I was yours. I trusted you. I trusted you with a lot of shit that I’ve never told anyone. Senior year of high school, right before we were about to graduate, right as we were starting a social media career, suddenly you don’t want anything to do with me; which would have been bad enough, but then I go and find out you and my girlfriend were hooking up behind my back,” Sam snapped, catching his breath for a moment. “So yeah, I remember you, Colby.”

Colby’s mouth fell open, his breathing speeding up.

None of this sounds like me. I would never hurt Sam like that.

“And now, you have the fucking audacity to show up when everything in my life is going great and I’m succeeding. I have fans, friends, and a girlfriend that all love and care about me, and you’re here trying to what? Stir up drama? Get some clout from me?” He demanded.

“If your friends and girlfriend love you, why are you eating all alone?” The waitress jeered.

Sam glared at her, biting his tongue. “And you made one of my fans hate me. Dope, dude.”

“Sam, look; I’m sorry for what I did. But that was years ago. I’m not who I was back then.” Colby choked out.

“I don’t care. I don’t want you in my life. Do you not understand what you did to me?” Sam persisted.

“I know I was an asshole, and I apologize for ever hurting you like that. But I miss you, and I want to work things out. Let me prove to you that I’m better.” He trembled, getting closer to Sam.

Sam backed up, blocking Colby. “No. No! You don’t get to miss me. You don’t get to miss a relationship you fucked up. It took me years to trust again. Hell, I’m still going through it. You don’t get to decide whether or not you’re in my life. Not anymore.”

“Sam… please.” Colby whimpered.

“Don’t show up at my place again. Don’t talk to my fans about me. Don’t act like you care about me. Because I’m done,” Sam stared into Colby’s eyes before going back into the restaurant. “I don’t care about you. Fuck off forever and leave me alone.”

Sam’s words punched Colby hard, taking the breath out of him instantly. He caught himself against the wall, his legs turning to gelatin under his weight.

He stuttered. “I… gotta leave. I-I have to…”

“Colby, relax. It’s gonna be okay.” She grabbed his hand.

He shook off her embrace. “What? No it’s not! Did you not hear what he said? Why would he want to be friends with a piece of shit like me?!”

“You were eighteen when this all happened. Give yourself a break.” She argued.

“No. I’m fucking terrible. This version of me is terrible. Of course he doesn’t want to be friends with me! I don’t even want to be me.” His voice quivered with anger, his body racing away from her.

She furrowed her brows, trying to keep up with him. “Where are you going?”

“I just need to leave. I can’t be here right now!” He grunted, his pace picking up.

She called after him, but Colby didn’t care. His heart slammed against his chest over and over again. Tears weld up into his eyes, blurring his vision as he began to run. He wanted to keep running until his legs gave out, until he couldn’t remember all the words Sam had said to him.

It dawned to Colby how much worse this universe was.

He wasn’t just stuck in a universe where Sam didn’t know him.

He was stuck in a universe where Sam didn’t want to know him.

In a universe where Sam didn’t love him.

And he had no way of escaping.

Colby must have blacked out while he ran, somehow maintaining to stay upright, because once his thoughts started to subside, and his body basically gave out under him, he noticed he was in a part of LA he had never been before. Some random neighborhood that was unfamiliar.

He shoved his body up against a metal telephone pole, sliding down to the ground. He tried catching his breath, gulping back breaths as he forced down the nausea overwhelming his senses. He wiped his face with his sleeve, feeling more tears rush down his cheeks.

His throat and chest burned with each sharp inhale. He whimpered into his hands, covering his face from the slowly retreating sun.

He slid his phone out of his pocket once he caught his breath, calling the only number he knew.

“Hey honey. What’s up?” His mom’s voice rang back sweetly.

Colby’s voice was monotone, exhausted. “You know who Sam is, don’t you?”

The line went quiet for a moment, all Colby could hear was her light breath.

“You told me not to talk about him. After you two stopped being friends, you said you never wanted to hear his name again.” She exhaled deeply, “I was taken aback when you asked about him yesterday.”

“He’s out here… in LA.” He responded.

She gasped lightly. “Did you run into him?”

He laughed bitterly. “You could say that.”

“Oh, Colby. I’m so sorry.” His mother consoled.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, mama. I just…” Colby trailed off, unable to explain.

“Why don’t you come home this weekend?” She offered. “I miss you, you know.”

“I would love to. But…” His chest heaved as hot tears drifted down his cheeks. “That’s not my home.”

“Nonsense. You will always have a home here.” She assured him, her voice almost trembling.

He wiped a fallen tear, a broken smile coming to his face. “That’s good to know. I love you.”

She hummed. “I love you too, baby. Call me again soon.”

“I will. Bye.” He uttered breathlessly.

The sky was getting darker and darker, and Colby remained against the phone pole. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but suddenly his phone vibrated, a new message from ‘Waitress’ asking where he was. He sent his location, and she arrived twenty minutes later in his car. He stood up, stumbling to his passenger door. His legs were weak from the sprinting he had just done. As he got in, the cool AC blasted the sweat and tears off his face.

They didn’t speak, a quiet radio station playing in the background the only sound. She drove through the hills of LA, eventually hitting a peak. She parked the car as it overlooked LA, the lights looking like stars on the horizon.

She got out a minute later, walking over to the hood and leaning against it. He could see something in her hand but didn’t recognize it. Colby sat in the car by himself, not able to physically move his body from how exhausted he felt. Eventually, he achingly stepped out of the car, sitting next to her on the hood.

“I’m fucked.” Colby breathed.

She started. “I don’t think-”

“Please don’t try to make me feel better. I know you mean well, but I am fucked,” he rebutted, his voice dark. “I’m stuck here, in this universe, where Sam hates me. And as if that weren’t bad enough, I did terrible things, things I know I would never do to him. How the fuck am I supposed to apologize for those mistakes? I wouldn’t take him back if the roles were reversed.”

“Read this.” The waitress stated, handing him a journal.

He glanced down at the leather-bound book, slightly faded from years of writing. He unclicked the lock and opened it, looking down at the pages. It was his, a journal full of writings he had done.

“Where did you get this?” He inquired.

“You were right about your car being messy. But you’d be surprised what you fine if you just look.” She teased.

Colby read over the words, the first entry catching his eye. It was dated a year after him and Sam had graduated high school.

Sam is succeeding without me. I knew he would. He was always so smart when it came to business decisions. He just hit 10k followers on Vine. That’s crazy!

“What the hell is this?” Colby questioned.

She answered quickly. “This whole journal was you keeping up with Sam without him knowing. This version of you always paid attention to what he was doing, even if you guys were no longer friends.”

“I’m obsessed with Sam? That’s great.” He deadpanned.

“You’re not obsessed with Sam. Read this entry.” She skipped a handful of pages, finally stopping on one and showing it to him.

I hate myself everyday for the hurt I caused Sam. I can’t believe what an idiot I was back when I was 18. We could have gone so far together… but I had to go and fuck it up.

He scowled. “Am I supposed to be sad for myself?”

“Keep reading.” She pushed.

The night I chose to never speak to Sam again, I knew I made the wrong decision. But I had to. Sam was ready to go on and do bigger and better things. I was just gonna hold him back. I was terrified of failing, not only myself, but him. He deserves success. That’s why I had to ignore him. I have never been as smart as him. I would have ruined our chances of doing something great. And I have been proven right by how far he has gone without me.

“You stopped being his friend because you were scared, not because you didn’t care anymore.” She repeated.

He slid off the car, scoffing. “So what if I was scared to fail? Sam didn’t deserve the hurt I caused just because of that. And what about me cheating with his girlfriend?”

She jumped off the car, striding up to Colby. She grabbed the journal from his hand. “You didn’t cheat, look.”

She pointed at the bottom of the page, his eyes following her finger.

“Me and Lexi were never together! I hate her for telling him that. One night, they had a really big fight and she came over to my house to ask what she should do. I told her to break up with him if she really didn’t care anymore. And then she tried to hit on me. I told her off and threatened to tell Sam, but she got to him first. She must have told him her and I were together.” The waitress read aloud.

“Wait, if I never hooked up with his girlfriend, why wouldn’t I tell him that?” Colby hissed.

“I think at that point, you wanted the friendship to be over, and I think this solidified it.” The waitress responded.

“All this time I could have been friends with Sam, but I ruined it because I was scared? What a fucking idiot.” He spat.

“You weren’t an idiot,” She interjected. “You just disliked yourself so much you didn’t think you deserved happiness. At least now you know that this version of you isn’t as terrible as you thought.”

“Even with that being the case, Sam’s never gonna accept my apology. Why should he?” Colby lamented, “I let him down the worst ways. I broke his trust and loyalty.”

She shook her head, stepping towards him. “Give him some time. You might be surprised."

Before Colby could speak, his phone rang. He took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the number. It looked familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

“Hello?” He answered.

“Did you really mean it when you said you were sorry?” Sam spoke, his tone hesitant, but dry.

His breath hitched at the sound of Sam’s voice. “Of course. I never meant to hurt you, Sam.”

Sam paused for a moment, before breathing out. “I’m giving you one more chance. Tomorrow. Come by my place. You apparently know where I live.”

“Yeah,” Colby laughed awkwardly. “I’ll come by. Thank you… Sam.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’ll see you later.” Sam stated, hanging up.

Once the call ended, Colby’s eyes stared down at his phone widely. He almost couldn’t believe that happened.

He inhaled sharply. “Sam just called me. He wants to meet me tomorrow.”

“That’s great.” Her voice just above a whisper.

“He wants to hear me out… he wants to give me another chance.” His face dropped with confusion. “How did he get my number?”

It hit Colby like a brick as he gazed up at the waitress, who bit her lip hiding her smile. “You…?”

“You weren’t the first person I showed the journal to,” she explained. “When you ran off, I was gonna go after you. As I got in your car, I saw this journal sticking out from under your seat. I read through it and… I knew I had to show Sam. I went back in and talked to him for an hour, showing him how much you were actually sorry. How much you had beat yourself up over hurting him. And then I gave him your number. I wasn’t sure if he was gonna call but-”

“Oh my God, you’re amazing!” Colby ran up to her, grabbing her by the waist and spinning her around. She gripped his shoulders tightly as they spun, laughing loudly into his ear. As her feet touched the ground, he stared into her eyes, his smile the brightest she had ever seen it. His hands glided up her body to her face, cupping her cheeks quickly. He smashed his lips against hers, his heart pounding as he did. Her hands lowered to his chest, her grasp on his shirt tightened as she felt herself lose her footing and back up into the car.

As they stumbled, he realized what he was doing, pulling away quickly. “Shit… I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have-”

“No, it’s okay,” She giggled. “I’m just… surprised.”

He exhaled, letting his arms fall away from her body. “Me too.”

They leaned against the car, keeping a slight distance from each other. A light blush rested on both their faces; however, it was hard to see with the setting sun, something they were both grateful for.

The waitress sighed, breaking the moment of silence. “I think I know why this happened. Why I was the only one who remembered you…”

He raised an eyebrow, slightly side-eyeing her. “Really?”

“I lied to you when we first met. I wanted to seem a bit cooler than I am, but I don’t think I can hide that anymore.” She began, nervously.

Colby’s face relaxed a little, surprised at her words. “Okay.”

“My friend didn’t introduce me to you guys… I introduced her… to you.” She confessed.

A soft grin came to his face. “I had a feeling.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did! I totally did,” he snickered. “Not every fan knows I worked at Dairy Queen. And… no average fan would have helped me get Sam back the way you did.”

“I think there’s a reason for all of this. I think in your universe, your life… you don’t know me.” Her voice dropped suddenly, making Colby turn to her.

“That’s true, I don’t.” He nodded.

Her eyes met his, a sad glint reflecting in the moonlight. “But I think the reason for that is because… you’re not supposed to.”

“What do you mean?” He replied, his face twisting in confusion.

“I think you and I are only supposed to have met here, in this universe. But not in yours.” She glared up at the sky, “Maybe in some weird way, I’m your guardian or guide or something.”

Colby’s thoughts raced. “So, what you’re saying is-“

“This might be the last time you’ll ever see me. You did what you had to do. You got Sam and you to talk again.” Her voice cracked as she held back tears, “You can go home.”

He grabbed her hands, holding them close to his body. “But… I don’t want to leave if it means I don’t know you.”

A hitched breath fell from her lips, a smile appearing from his words. “If we’re meant to be, we’ll see each other again.”

“That’s not fair.” He shook his head, a deep frown settling on his face.

“I know, but it’s how it has to be.” She whispered.

He rested his forehead against her, breathing deeply. “Can I… get one more kiss?”

She bit her lip softly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

They leaned in, his breath fanning across her lips for a split second before he pulled away.

“Wait…” He shuddered. “I never got your name.”

A soft smile came to her lips. “I’ll tell you after.”

His arms wrapped around her, pressing her body into his as their lips collided. He held onto her for dear life, terrified that the moment he pulled away, she would be gone.

He could feel things around him slow down, almost melting away, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the beauty of their kiss making him dizzy. A whirling silence overcame his senses. A burning sensation sliced through his abdomen; his breath ripped from his lungs.

A heavy darkness overtook his vision and for the briefest of moments, he felt absolutely nothing.

Except her lips.

<< |

#colby brock #colby brock fic #colby brock story #colby brock one shot #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock fanfic #colby brock oneshot #colby brock angst #sam golbach #sam and colby

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leiawritesstories · 3 years

Text

Improbability

Rowaelin Month, Day 26: You’re seeing my roommate and accidentally walked into my shower. Featuring Sam and Rowan as roommates. :)))

Word count: 1542

Warnings: language, little bit of math gobbledygook that I stole from my stats class.

Enjoy!

~~~~

“Mate, you alright with my girlfriend coming over today?” Sam called out to his roommate. “We’re probably going out, but I asked her over here first.”

Rowan pulled out one of his earbuds and stuck his head out his bedroom door. “Yeah, that’s totally fine, just for God’s sake warn me if you’re going to do the dirty on our couch, bud.”

“THAT WAS ONE TIME!” Sam yelled, “and I was 100 percent sure you had football!”

“It’s called soccer, Cortland!” Rowan laughed, never missing the chance to poke at his British roommate.

“Whatever, mate. You’re good with Ae hanging out here for a bit, yeah?”

“Sure am. She’s a fun person.” Rowan put his earbud back in and returned to doing his homework, or rather, swearing at his statistics textbook. Some fifteen minutes later, he heard the door of his and Sam’s dorm open.

“Anybody home?” enquired a throaty female voice. “Someone told me he was at home, but obviously he’s too busy to go out today. Guess I’ll just go drink with the girls, then.”

“And leave me lonely?” Sam asked.

Aelin Galathynius, who’d been dating Sam for almost two years now, smiled. “Never.”

He returned the grin and pulled her into the living room, where their conversation faded into a blur of noise too dim for Rowan to interpret. Not that he minded…much. Aelin was hilarious, though, and he loved hearing her make cracks at Sam’s British habits, her friends, her day, and pretty much anything else she thought deserved a snarky comment.

Slamming his stats book closed, Rowan huffed a sigh and decided that he could use a quick shower to relax a little before heading out to training. He grabbed his towel and a bar of soap and went into the tiny dorm shower, which was low enough that he, at 6’3,” had to crouch to fit under the shower head. Grumbling to himself about the stupidity of whatever idiot architect designed dormitory showers, he stood under the stream of hot water and tried to make sense of all he still had to do. Which was too much. After somewhere around five minutes, he stuck his head out of the shower, realizing the dorm had gone awfully quiet.

Maybe Sam and Aelin were out, then, he thought.

Rowan turned off the shower and reached for his towel, giving himself a quick dry-off before stepping out. He was just wrapping the towel around his waist when the door swept open.

“Oh, shit, sorry, I didn’t realize you were in here!” gasped Aelin.

Rowan gaped at her, forgetting that the only thing between her and a prime view of what he may or may not have been doing in the shower was a dark green bath towel.

A too-thin green bath towel.

Aelin’s turquoise eyes traveled down his frame, decidedly not missing a single detail. A pink flush spread over her cheekbones, and she hastily backed out of the bathroom and shut the door with a firm click.

Rowan swallowed whatever he’d thought he might have said and told his raging male hormones to calm the hell down. Quickly, before anyone else could walk in on him, he pulled on his practice jersey and sweats and went back to his room, where he grabbed his soccer bag and hauled ass for the gym.

He spent the entire 90-minute workout trying and miserably failing to get the image of Aelin Galathynius in her unfairly attractive blouse and miniskirt blushing at his nearly-nude self out of his mind. When he got back to his dorm, having showered in the locker room, this time without anyone interrupting, Sam and Aelin were gone. Sam had left a note on his bedroom door, stating that he’d probably be back around three. Checking his watch, Rowan groaned. It was almost two, and he’d broken down and signed up for stats tutoring at four.

He just hoped that whoever the tutor was, they’d be able to help him get his mathematical shit together and pass the course.

Two hours later, Rowan walked into the library and took a seat in the study room marked with a sign that read “STATS 320 TUTORING 4 PM.” Nobody else was there, but to be fair, he was a little early. He plopped his textbook, notebook, and calculator onto the table and waited.

And nearly fell off his chair when Aelin Galathynius walked into the room.

“What the hell?”

“What the hell, what?” she asked, obviously amused at his reaction.

“I--I didn’t expect to see you here, that’s what the hell. You here for tutoring too?”

“Yes and no.” Rowan blinked in confusion. Aelin’s little smirk grew bigger. “I am the tutor, Rowan. You’re here for my assistance…and expertise.” She winked.

He felt himself flush at the image that conjured. “Yeah, expertise, in stats, right?” He knew full well he was stammering like a fourteen-year-old on his first date, but that about summed up how his roommate’s girlfriend made him feel right now.

“Correct.” Just like that, Aelin was all business. She set her backpack down, closed the door, and sat across from Rowan. “So. How can I help?”

He sighed. “I’m stuck. I need this class, it’s the last math I have to take for my major, I’m usually decent at math, and I’m fucking stuck on a concept my professor said was fucking simple.”

Aelin listened to his mini rant without comment. She pulled out her own stats notebook and calculator from her backpack and slipped on a pair of glasses. Rowan cocked his head.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“Reading glasses, Whitethorn. I’m supposed to wear them whenever I’m reading, on my laptop, or studying, but do I? Hell no.” She grinned. “Don’t tell my optometrist.”

“Given that I don’t know them, no problem.” He returned her grin.

She flexed her fingers and turned her attention to Rowan’s math. “Right, big bad soccer boy. Where are you stuck?”

He flipped his book to the section on conditional probability distributions. “Here. I took notes, and it seemed logical enough, but I completely tanked the quiz we just had, and I don’t know where I went wrong.”

Aelin scanned the quiz. “You’re reading the graphs wrong.”

“What?”

“Conditional probability is the probability of an event occurring given that a certain condition is satisfied.” She opened her notebook to a blank page and drew a horizontal line. “Any time you see a condition, that condition goes in the denominator.” She pointed to one of the problems he’d answered wrong on the quiz. “What’s this question asking you to determine?”

“Probability that a student chosen at random is an engineer given that the selected student is female.”

“Right. So, you take the condition, the ‘given,’ and put that number in the denominator. Remember you’re only looking at the row labeled ‘female,’ because that’s the condition. Once the condition’s written in, you find the other part of the question, in this case the number of female engineers. Put that number in the numerator, divide by the denominator, and there you have the probability. Does that make sense?”

“Condition in the denominator…” Rowan mumbled, writing it in his notes. He looked up at Aelin and smacked his hand flat on the table. “Aelin, I’m a fucking idiot. I spent so much time trying to look at the totals that I didn’t remember to keep the condition, I--goddammit, I’m stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Rowan, lots of people struggle with conditional probability at first.”

“I’ll bet you didn’t.”

“Oh, I did. A lot.”

“Really? But you just explained this shit to me better than my professor.”

“I…I happen to like stats. Might be part of my major description, but I just find working with the numbers extremely satisfying.”

“What’s your major?” he asked, intrigued.

“Don’t judge me.”

“Nope. Promise.”

“I’m in finance.”

His eyebrows shot up. “I’m impressed.”

She blushed. “Thanks. It’s a lot of stats and spreadsheets and yelling at each other about the stock market, but I really love it.”

“You’re making me look bad; I’m just your standard pre-PT student athlete”

“Standard pre-PT student athlete,” she mocked, “don’t sell yourself short, Whitethorn. Pre-PT is nothing shabby.”

“Yeah, but not remembering a stupidly easy math concept sure as hell is.”

She snickered. “Fair enough. Is there anything else I can help you with, or is that all for this session?”

He flipped through his notes. “That’s all I had for today, but I’ll probably be back at some point whining about another tricky concept.”

Aelin grinned, closing her notebook. “Wait until you get into chi-squared models. I’ll be here then, waiting for all the stats students to come crying to me while I plug seventeen equations into my spreadsheet and hope it actually calculates the quarterly interest this time.”

Rowan shook his head. “You lost me at ‘chi-squared,’ Aelin.”

“Oh, trust me, it’s fun.”

“As much fun as you and Sam have?”

Her voice dropped to a sultry purr. “Your couch would know.”

Before he could sputter out a response, she’d shouldered her backpack and was walking out the door. Rowan watched Aelin Galathynius leave, wondering how fast he could make up an excuse to talk to his roommate’s brilliant girlfriend again.

#my writing #rowaelin month #day 26 #college au

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bi-bard · 3 years

Text

Bad Guy - Winchester Brothers Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Bad Guy

Characters: Dean, Sam, John, and Mary Winchester

Requested: Nope

Word Count: 1,222 words

Warning(s): John Winchester slander (we approve), mentions of past trauma, probably cussing

Summary: (Season 14, Episode 13) (Y/n) gets a chance to tell John just what they thought of Sam and Dean's childhood.

Author's Note: Fun fact, this episode resulted in probably my favorite blooper in Supernatural. You should watch it... click here.

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

It all started with a normal hunt.

Room of cursed objects and some weird salesman.

Now, the objects were being stored in the bunker and identified by Sam and me. Dean was more distracted by the objects than anything.

We discovered a pearl. It allowed people to get what they wanted more than anything.

It seemed like a surefire way to defeat Michael, who was still locked in Dean's mind. A way to get rid of him for good.

That's not what happened.

What happened was that we ended up losing Castiel, Jack was nowhere to be found, and John Winchester came back.

I knew him too well. I didn't even know him before he died but... I saw it. I saw it all.

I sat opposite him at the table. Sam and Dean ran away to talk about this and Mary was off doing something.

"How did you end up here," he asked. "I'm sorry but I don't think the math works for you to be Sam or Dean's."

"They kind of adopted me," I explained. "I was 10 and my parents were taken out by a shifter. The boys raised me along with Bobby and Castiel and a few others."

"Right," he nodded. He held a hand out for me to shake. "I'm John."

"I know," I chuckled, ignoring his hand. "I know a lot."

"I've heard," he nodded, dropping his hand. "Mary mentioned that you're quite the hunter."

I grinned.

"Alright, what is it," he asked.

"Nothing, nothing," I shook my head. "It's just weird. I've heard... stories. From Dean and Sam and Bobby. Hell, Mary has told a few."

"Well, nice to know I lived on."

"Mary's stories were very sweet," I nodded.

"And the others?"

"More realistic," I muttered. His smile fell. It's like he suddenly realized that I knew everything. "Especially the ones I confirmed."

"So, you've already decided that I'm the bad guy," John asked, leaning on the table.

I bit my tongue and looked down at the floor. I sighed and looked back up.

"A few years ago," I explained, "I was 14, we met a witch on a hunt. I was hit by some spell and got knocked out. It sent me back through time. Specifically, Sam and Dean's childhood. I saw everything. So yes, you are a bit a villain in my head. But I didn't invent that."

I stood up straight and went to leave.

"If I had raised you-"

"You didn't," I cut him off. "Your sons did. And I think they did a damn good job. Maybe you should talk to them. See them as more than hunters. Because they are so much more."

"Don't explain how well you know my sons," he snapped.

"Someone needs to!"

He fell silent.

"Your sons raised me so well," I said quietly. "They took me to thrift stores and gave me old clothes so I was always comfortable. Dean would sit with me when I had a nightmare and sing the same song while he waited for me to go back to sleep. Sam found the technology for me to be a part of hunts when I couldn't lie about being F.B.I. Dean let me date someone that he barely liked. Sam literally carried me out of my parents' house. Your sons have become amazing parents. You only see them as hunters that could be better."

I walked out without another word. I passed Dean and Sam in the hall. I heard one of them turn around and follow me to my room.

"Hey, what happened," Dean asked. I sat on my bed, taking a few deep breaths. Dean sat next to me, rubbing my back lightly. "Are you alright?"

"It's just... John," I mumbled. "It's been a little overwhelming."

"What happened?"

"He was talking about hunting and you two growing up and I said that I knew everything," I replied. "Then he tried to go into what would've happened if he had raised me and I snapped at him. I just yelled about you and Sam being great parents."

"Kid," Dean said. He pulled me into a hug. "You didn't need to defend us."

"It just happened," I muttered. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," he rested his chin on top of my head.

The door slowly opened. I looked up and saw the rest of the Winchester family standing there. I sat up straight. John stepped forward and I stood up.

"I'm... I'm sorry-"

"You don't need to do that," John held a hand up to me. "Thank you. You made... some great points. These two did end up being great parents."

I grinned softly.

"Now, I was thinking that we should have a real family dinner before I have to leave," John clapped his hands and smiled at all of us.

"Pizza," Mary suggested. We all nodded. We all walked out. John stopped me.

I raised my eyebrows, asking what he needed silently.

"What's that photo from," he asked. I looked over.

There were two. One was Bobby, Jo, Ellen, Sam, Dean, Cas, and me. I didn't go on the hunt that followed that photo. The other was one that I insisted we take. Me, Mary, Jack, Sam, Dean, and Cas. I still don't know how I got all of them to come back.

"My family photos," I mumbled. "The one on the left was right before we went to fight Lucifer for the first time. The other is right after Jack, Mary, and I came back to the bunker after we had been stuck in the apocalypse world."

"The what?"

"Umm... another story for another day," I hit John's arm twice before going to follow the other three.

"You and Cas are close," he asked. I nodded. "And Jack?"

I blushed and awkwardly chuckled, looking at the floor.

"I see," he nodded. I looked at him. "You're not very subtle. Crushing or dating?"

"Dating," I replied. "As of... pretty recently."

"Good," he said. "Did you make the first move?"

"Yes."

"Good," he said again, making me chuckle.

We walked into the library and saw Dean and Mary at one of the tables.

"Sam's the only one not on a wanted list right now," Dean explained. I nodded and sat down next to him.

--Time Skip--

After we all enjoyed dinner together, it was time for John to go. It was the only way to make sure we didn't mess up the timeline. John was understanding.

I stood back as John hugged his sons. He looked over at me and smiled. I smiled back. He walked over and I hugged him. It was strange but it wasn't as awful as I feared.

He stepped back. He walked over to his wife, holding her hand. He gave her one last kiss before nodding at Sam.

I grabbed Dean's hand when I saw him shaking. He looked at me for a moment and forced a grin for a moment.

Sam picked up the bowl and smashed the pearl. The next time we all looked, John was gone.

I stayed silent, letting the family mourn. I stepped away so they could all hug. Sam looked over me before nodding at me to join them. I joined their group.

They were grieving for the second time... and I didn't quite know how to help them.

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

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#supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfiction #mary winchester imagine #mary winchester fanfiction #mary winchester x reader #john winchester imagine #john winchester fanfiction #john winchester x reader #imagine #fanfiction #x reader

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dancingintheraindreamingonday · 3 years

Text

They came and they took her - Chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

A month later later, Bucky sits in a bar waiting for Sam to arrive. After all that time he’s still not sure what to think about Sam. A lot of people like him, including you and Steve. But Bucky finds this guy a bit annoying and irritating.

Sam tells Bucky about the group called the flag smashers who was comprised of super soldiers. Something that they really should investigate further and in need stop.

Bucky’s phone’s ringing. As he looks at it, he stops in his movement.

„What is it?“ Sam notices the distress in Bucky’s face.

„It’s the number of (y/f/n)’s emergency phone. I gave it to her in Bucharest. Told her to use is when she’s in danger.“

„Well, answer it!“

„Hello?“ Silence

„Who’s there?“ Bucky asks again

„My name is Alexander Steve Barnes.“, says the soft, timidest voice Bucky ever heard.

„My mum told me to call you.“, his voice was full with fear.

„Where’s your mum?“

„They came and they took her.“ Alex starts hiccuping.

„Stay exactly where you are. I’m coming.“

Bucky ends the call and looks at the gin glas in front of him. He takes it and smashes it against the wall.

„They got (y/f/n). They took her.“ Bucky’s furious.

„Who took her?“

„Sam, how would I know who took her?! I wasn’t there, yeah?!“ This realization hits him like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t there. He was so caught up with his amends, with his pain, with his guilt, that he didn’t protect you. Bucky demolishes the whole interior of the bar. The pain he feels right now is agonizing and almost unbearable. You’re missing and he has absolutely no idea who could be responsible for that.

The drive to your house was quick, thanks to Bucky ignoring every single traffic sign.

Arriving at your door, Bucky’s heart drops into his gut. The door isn’t locked; it was barely in the frame.

Walking down the floor he and Sam see the impact of your abduction. The furniture is demolished, glass got shattered, doors of cupboards are open like someone was looking for something. But the most disturbing thing is the blood. Everywhere. “Your wife gave a hell of a fight.”

As they walk they stumble upon two corpses laying on the ground.

„Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.“ Sam states.

„Why was S.H.I.E.L.D here?“ He asks Bucky.

A question none could answer.

„Stay here. I’m getting the kid.“

Bucky takes the stairs thinking to himself that if they were after the child, they probably would’ve found it in this tiny house. But why were they here? Why did the kidnapped (y/f/n)? Probably because of him. All bad things happened because of him.

He enters your bedroom, noticing that your bedding was on the ground. Aren’t you sleeping in your bed? „Kid? You can come out now.“

„Say the password.“, requests the child’s voice

„Password? Sorry kid, I don’t know any password.“, Bucky rubs the bridge of his nose, cursing you silently for creating a password no one knows. He looks around in your bedroom hoping that he might find a post-it with the password on it. But instead the only thing he sees is a huge celestial map. And just like that, he remembers:

Bucky laid on the ground. Just a few hours ago he resisted the Russian commands that Ayo gave him. He was no longer the winter soldier. He was no longer a slave. And he was no longer a weapon. His eyes were still wet and red as he stared into the night. The sky was clear and all the millions of stars shined brightly. „Beautiful, isn’t it?“, your voice broke the silence. Bucky turned his head and saw you starring at the sky. „Ayo told me what happened. I’m so damn proud of you, my white wolf.“ You winked at him as you sat down next to him. „And I finally found out what star this is.“, you pointed to the brightest star. „Well, to be honest- It wasn’t me who found out the name of the star. The kids I’m teaching at school are way smarter than I am with my maths degree, so instead of embarrassing me again I gave them the task to find out the name of the star. And it’s name is… drum roll.“ You clapped out the rhythm. „Canopus. The name of the star is Canopus.“ Since you two arrived in Wakanda this star always made you interested. „So, now we know the name of our lucky star.“ You laid down next to Bucky. „No matter what challenges we will face and no matter where we are- together or apart, our star will always be out there watching and guarding us.“ “We will never be apart.”, whispered Bucky.

„Canopus. The password is Canopus.“

Bucky hears the lock clicking and the door opens. And there he stands. His son. For the first time Bucky meets his child. He was undoubtedly his son. His dark brown hair, his oval face and your big (y/e/c) eyes. He was still wearing his pyjamas. A brown teddybear with a bowtie is pressed against him. Bucky recognizes the teddy bear as the one he won for you at a shooting gallery. A warm feeling of attachment and the need to protect this child floods through his body. He bends over and picks him up. Alex buries his face against Bucky’s neck. „Lets get you out of here, kid.“

As he walks down the stairs Sam meets him with lots of files in his hands. „Here are dozen of S.H.I.E.L.D files. There are several about super soldiers. This one…“, Sam shows him one file „This one is about you. But I can just read your name. Everything else is blacked out. Strange, isn’t it?“

Strange doesn’t even describe the oddness of this situation.

„What do we do now?“, Sam asks while opening the car. Bucky has no idea. What should he do with this kid? „Aunt Pepper.“, mumbles the little one. „What?“

„Mum said that when the superhero doesn’t know what to do, I should suggest aunt Pepper.“ Alex shows Bucky the back of his left hand. There are, written with a bullpen, the words „aunt Pepper“. This was probably a precaution if Alex would’ve forgotten the name. Bucky chuckles. Even in the times of great danger, his wife stayed sane and cool-headed.

This time Sam is driving, noticing how calm Bucky seems with his kid still in his arms. Seeing Bucky acting somewhat like a father is just an interesting picture. That makes Sam contemplate the thing he saw next to the bin. As a guy he wasn’t really sure what it was but now that he thinks about it… it definitely could have been a pregnancy test.

But two lines mean negative, right?

Chapter 5

@inlovewith3 @jackiehollanderr @homesicam @dreamydreamerwriting @losers-club6 @gengen64 @agentsofsheilds @crimson-darling @akkinda10 @xemine @bubblegumholland @chipilerendi @iamasimpingh0e @bbmommy0902 @madddiiee26 @teenagedreams-bucky @aya-fay @idontknowwhatthisisfam

Let me know what you think. Criticism is always welcome 😃 English is not my first language so bear with me and my errors. And thank you to everyone who reads my stories. Especially to those who write sweet comment. I live for them :D I smile all day just because of you guys.

#sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes feels

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moekaneko · 3 years

Text

I should really post some a3! Stuff bcs I've been posting a lot of obey me stuff recently and there's a lot coming still but I have a bunch more things me and my friends have said over text this time and it didn't feel right as a3! Characters so oh well.

Obey me characters as things me and my friends have said but over text this time (part 2)

________

Mammon texting mc: Dad (luci) needed the toilet

Mammon: Alone

Mammon: Surround by cocky men

Mammon: I feel like I’m bout to pull a heist I’m ngl

Mammon: Pray for me

____________

Asmo: Nails, hair, hips, heels, I like guys, those just my feels

___________

Belphie: suck ur nan

Lucifer: Ffs belphegor

Belphie: you’ll never escape

Belphie: ur nan

________

Levi: 😀😀😀😀

Solomon: smile if you like dick

Levi: IT WAS BEFORE IT

Levi: U ABSLOUTE DIMBO

Solomon: no

Solomon: you smiled

Levi: 😟

_________

Simeon: I KNOW WHAT IT IS

Lucifer: no you don’t

__________

Asmo: tits are nice

Asmo: but what good are a pair of tits when theirs no emotional value

*sam smith starts playing*

Mc: yeah exactly

Asmo: 💔

Mc: So true asbestos asbestie

Solomon: please stfu before i snatch your knickers and wear them as a hat

__________

Satan: anyways

Satan: I can sense someone’s on their period here

An mc who has periods: ...

Mc: 😗

👉 👈

__________

Belphie: how the ruck is frank in canada

Diavolo: who is frank

Belphie: frank ly I don't care

Diavolo: dunno who that is

_________

Asmo: no babes, they're mine

Satan: go suck a cock

Satan: like Solomon's

Satan: or go brake one

Satan: Like Solomon's

Asmo: nah i got mc

Asmo: soz xoxo

__________

Lucifer: fucking hell

Lucifer: anyway

________

Levi: I was kinda busting it to the song

Asmo: I was busting it to the guy

Levi: BRUH

_______

Solomon: bro u better come in

Asmo: I am hœ

Solomon: k

__________

Lucifer: OKAY

Lucifer: EVERYONE WAKE UP

Simeon: Chill lol

Barbatos: no

__________

Asmo: ty babes

Simeon: I CAN'T HEAR YOU

Asmo: MC's so hot

Asmo: WYM

Simeon: SNAP

Simeon: I CANT

Luke: huh

Levi: ur not meant to

Luke: YOU'RE CALLING ME

___________

Belphie: I dont care

Lucifer: I’ll remove you

Lucifer: say you care

Belphie: I dont

Belphie: remove me

Lucifer: your bio is cap

Belphie: ok xx

Belphie has been removed

Lucifer: said id do it

Luke: Oh wow you really did remove him

_________

Belphie: HE WAS A FUCKING SNAKE 😭😭😭😭

Belphie: HE WAS TRYING TO SLIT HER YO THE WALAALLA

_________

Satan: My mental health honestly said yeetus to the fetus years ago

Asmo: do asmr instead

_________

Solomon: gay

Belphie: Is all of us

Diavolo: wot

________

Mc: LEVI

Mc: DID U MURDER MY FUCKING HUSBAND

Mc: I WILL SEE YOU IN COURT

Levi: Goodluck

Levi: The body is well hidden it's ok

Mc: Shut the fuck up

Levi: Nah❤️

Levi: mc is crazy

Mc: GO TO HELL LEVI

Levi: This is hell

Mc: Tryna kill my mf husband

Levi: Tryna? Oh you poor dear. Grievance and resistance

Mc: SHUT YO

Mc: GODAM

Mc: FILTHY

Mc: MOUTH

Levi: Not sorry for your loss actually I'm responsible

Satan: ALL OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP

Mc: Nah❤️

________

Mammon: I think I just ripped my tounge off-

________

belphie: Cerberus just sat on my ass and fell asleep and all I'm thinking is bitch this anint a hotel

Solomon: Uhh

Belphie: I dont wanna move hes too cute

Solomon: on ur ass

Belphie: ye

__________

Mammon: My math tutor (mc) is spending more time changing whiteboard pen colours than actually teaching me shit

Mammon: I had to say 6 three times cause they couldn't bloody hear me

_________

Solomon: I'm not actually German it's a joke

Lucifer: You bloody what

_________

Simeon: What is everyone gonna wear

Asmo: Cocklet

Barbatos: I'd hope not

_________

Asmo: Good morning my friends

Asmo: And mammon

Beel: Why did i think of willy wonka when u sadi that

______________

THERE'S MORE COMING SOON I COULDN'T FIT IT ALL INTO ONE POST

All my friend started texting and now I'm crying

#obey me #anime #obey me shall we date #diavolo obey me #barbatos obey me #solomon obey me #simeon obey me #luke obey me #lucifer obey me #mammon obey me #levi obey me #satan obey me #asmo obey me #beel obey me #belphie obey me

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lanuvolanera · 3 years

Text

Sept 19th - Cofession

Chapter 1

My first ever fanfic, lads, be nice and enjoy.

---------

Coming out of Casper High mid afternoon, Danny and Tucker made their way down the school steps. Students trickled out the front doors in small groups and split their own ways as the duo began their trek to Fenton works.

"Man, I'm glad Sam didn't come today." Danny said, grasping his backpack strap slung over his shoulder.

"I know, right? She would've been miserable." Tucker replied, pocketing his PDA with a light frown on his face.

The day went well. Steady, in fact. They seemed to have kept off of Dash's radar and stayed on Mr Lancer's good side with the English assignment. Not to mention that it was pizza day at the cafeteria, the only good thing that the cooks knew how to make. Yeah, today wasn't so bad, it just felt empty without Sam by their side.

"She should be feeling better by tomorrow, right?"

"Honestly, I think she'll take the rest of the week off. If it wasn't for that ghost..."

"Oh god, don't remind me, I still feel awful." Danny said with a look of mild horror, still traumatised from the night before.

A pause in their conversation prompted more memories from last night.

Phantom, two feet above the ground, felt paralysed as he looked on and watched as Tucker ducked undercover from the ectoblasts firing in all directions from what looked like a regular bedsheet type ghost, only this one was different, this one screeched and wailed and gnawed it's black teeth, blood dripping from its mouth, staining its torso.

"We'll give her a call tonight, see how she's doing." Tucker said, dragging Danny out of his thoughts.

"Or we could head over, see how she's doing in person?"

"Or we could leave her be and let her rest."

Danny didn't like that idea, he was worried and felt guilty and ashamed that he couldn't prevent her injury. As minor as it was, she couldn't find the strength to come to school the next day, when he'd hoped to apologise again and ask how she's doing again and to offer her anything she needs again. He made his mind up right then.

"I'll fly over tonight then, when everyone's gone to bed."

"Sure, don't forget to bring her homework and tell her you love her."

"What?" Danny gasped in shock, a deep red blush covering his cheeks.

"Nothing." Tucker looked away with a sheepish grin and quickly changed the topic.

"We still need to do some research about last night's ghost, I've downloaded some pdf's which I'll send to you and Sam to see if there are other ways to dispell it if the thermos didn't work."

They turn the corner and can see the large Fenton works sign in the distance, two blocks away.

"Race you." Danny smirked, and sprinted off before Tucker had a chance to realise what was happening.

With a loud "hey!" from Tucker in the background, Danny slowed as he neared the steps to his front door and tried the handle, locked. Hmm, his parents are out, Jazz would still be at school studying in the library, looks like he and Tucker have the house to themselves. Danny pulls out his keys and unlocks the door just as Tucker catches up out of breath.

"That's cheating, you had a head start." He pants.

"Come on, the computer in the lab is free, go down and fire it up while I get some coffee brewing."

"Sounds like a plan."

-------------‐-------------------------------------------------

Later that night, Danny flew Tucker back to his house.

They soared through the night sky, clear and full of stars, street lamps illuminating the buildings below them, his best friends arm slung over phantoms shoulders.

"Look, all I'm saying is if we go back tomorrow, what if we make things worse, pissed it off even more. If its trapped there like we think, what harm will it do if we leave it alone?"

"It's different though, what if when we found it there, we let it loose?"

"If we did then don't you think we would've seen it again by now?"

"I don't want to chance it, we need to find a way to deal with it permanently."

"Don't tell me you're going back there by yourself."

"No, I'm going to Sam's, like I said."

"You'd better."

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

Once he'd said his goodbyes to Tucker, and reassured him he wasn't going to do something wreckless, Danny took off into the air once more and set course for Sam's House.

With a backpack full with his thermos, his laptop, his phone, both his and Sam's maths homework, a couple of pens, pencils, markers and 2 cans of Sam's favorite soda, Danny sped across the rooftops when a blue puff of cold air burst it's way past his lips.

"Of course, I thought it was too quiet tonight."

Taking a quick glance of his surroundings, there was nothing to be seen in the empty streets. A brief pause, his breath held in his lungs, then glass crashing from a shop window a few blocks down caught Danny's attention.

Cackling laughter and bursts of light flashed from the window, Danny wasted no time reaching the building, turning himself intangible and flew through the ceiling.

"Oh, come on! What the hell are you doing here? In a pet store of all places?"

....

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

Danny finally arrived at his destination. Peaking through the window to find Sam laying on her bed, light from her laptop illuminating her face, in her black pyjamas and a cast on her leg.

He knocked on the glass, and smiled as Sam startled.

Waving him in, he floated through the glass and landed with a soft thump on the plush carpet, and settled on the edge of her bed.

"Hey, how're you feeling?" Danny said with concern in his voice.

"Fine. Hey, you need to sign my cast." Sam says with a playful smirk. Danny half expected her to be more upset about being injured, or at least, as upset as he is.

After the escape from the warehouse the night before, with Sam cradled in his arms and Tucker following not too far behind, all Danny could think was this was all his fault. Sam got injured because of him, because he was too late, too late to swoop in and protect her from the falling scaffolding from the ghost fight, that cost her her ability to run to safety. He's the hero, isn't he? And he couldn't save her from something as simple as falling debris? What kind of hero-

"Danny-"

Sam could see the distraught look on Danny's face and he caught himself looking down at her cast. It could've been a lot worse, but still.

Danny looks up at her, he needs to confess.

"I'm sorry, Sam, I'm sorry you got hurt, I should've been more careful-"

"Hey, don't worry about it, these things happen, right? It could've been a lot worse."

"I know, I keep telling myself that, but still-"

"But still, we need to figure out a way to get rid of that ghost, I've been doing some research on this specific type of ghost and I've read through the files Tucker sent me, and I think I have a good idea on what we're working with."

Sam brings the laptop closer and turns it around for Danny to see pages upon the screen filled with information from different historic and religious sites.

"Does it say anything about why the thermos didn't work?" He asked playfully. Of course, the Fenton thermos only being a recent invention, there wouldn't be any information that hasn't been put online by the Fentons themselves indicating its presence in the ghost hunting community across the globe. Sure, there have been other containment methods but for this particular ghost, the best method would be to remove it from this plane entirely instead of just bottling it up.

Other pages on the screen suggest cleansing treatments of the haunted area using a mixture of herbs, minerals and rituals, witchcraft. If that could work, maybe the Fentons have other means of ghost study to pursue, if they believed in that sort of thing, of course.

"Hoestly, this stuff is giving me a headache, I need a break."

"Good thing I have just what you need." Danny says, reaching for his backpack.

He pulls out his own laptop, the 2 cans of soda and their homework, which Sam gives a mild look of disgust.

"Great."

"You don't look at all enthused." Danny says with a cheeky smile, and pops open his can, passing the other one over to Sam who takes it gratefully.

A small awkward pause later and Sam has to snap Danny back to reality again.

"Look, I know you think this is your fault, so here's my obligatory I'm-not-a-damsel-in-distress talk, we're a team, we'll sort this out, and we can forget about it."

"It's not just that, I don't know, it's just that- I don't think I'll be able to forget about it. There's something about this ghost, it's terrifying." Danny says, setting his can aside.

"I know, ugly too." Sam smiles as Danny looks up, he remembers what Tucker said to him earlier.

Tell her you love her.

"I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if something happened to you, I couldn't imagine my life without you."

At this, Sam sits up and puts her can on her bedside table. They're face to face with each other now.

"I couldn't imagine my life without you either, and you're right, that ghost is terrifying, even more of a reason to fight it."

Tell her.

"This ghost fight seems to be putting things into perspective."

You love her.

"I know what you mean."

They don't know when they got closer, or when they started leaning in.

Danny lightly brushes his fingers across her cheek, tilting her head just so, and presses his lips to hers.

It's a little awkward at first, spending a few seconds in that position. Then someone, or maybe both, adjust their lips, and oh.

Oh wow.

The sensation is amazing, sparks running down their spines and they readjust again, and again.

Their arms begin to wrap around each other and oh god, they're actually making out, kissing. They don't even realise they've fallen onto their sides on the bed, eyes squeezed shut applying and reapplying firm presses of their lips together.

They stay that way for a few moments, or is it lifetimes, when a tune came from the bedside table.

They pull apart, dazed red faces inches from each other, before Sam sits up and grabs her phone.

"It's Tucker."

She answers.

"Hey, Sam, I know you're busy recovering and all and I know it's late but I think I have a lead."

"That's great, what've you got?"

"I've found a review online about a book at the town hall library, if we can get it checked out tomorrow we might be able to find a way to exorcise this ghost."

Sam and Danny look at each other with hope.

"What's the title?"

"Ghost hunting for dummies."

"Be serious."

"I'll make you laugh one day, I swear."

"Tucker."

"It's called 'witchcraft untold', there are only 2 copies in town, the other is at the 'Skulk and Lurke'. The review made it sound like a work of fiction, and maybe it is, who knows? But I think it's worth checking out."

Sam makes a mental note of the title. There are a few books she's planning on checking out, some including cultural and religious beliefs on the undead, magic and pagan rituals, and scientific findings surrounding ghosts. If this book Tucker mentioned is as promising as it sounds, things could be looking up.

"I've been meaning to go to the 'Skulk and Lurke' tomorrow anyway, so I'll keep an eye out for it."

"Thats great, we'll talk more later, get some rest."

" I will do, see you later, Tuck."

"See you, and say hi to Danny for me!"

Click.

They glance at each other, and Danny moves to stand up.

"I should get going, um..."

"Yeah, you're gonna need some rest too if we're gonna face this ghost tomorrow night."

"We?"

"Yeah?"

"No."

"What?"

Danny couldn't believe he had to say this.

"Sam, you're injured, there's no way I'm letting you come along..."

"You're not 'letting' me do anything, I'm going. We still need to figure out a plan before then anyway, when I get a chance to check out that book."

The air surrounding them starts to tense.

"How am I supposed to fight this ghost and protect you at the same time? Or have you already forgotten about last night?"

"Excuse me? Have you forgotten what I said only ten minutes ago? I'm not letting you go off and play hero all by yourself!"

"That is not-"

"Save it. I can take care of myself."

"Fine, I'll call you in the morning."

"Fine."

And with that, Danny turns towards the window and lifts off, phases through, and rises into the night sky.

#dp shiptember 2021 #danny phantom #sam manson #tucker foley #amethyst ocean

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herstarburststories · 4 years

Text

Dean's (secret) Wish

Kinktober day 8: Role Reversal/Spanking

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Usually, Dean is the one in control. Time to change this.

Warnings: spanking, sub/dom kinda, humping, Zorro mask, Dean is fragile, cute, and horny. I don't know if this is crack; DON'T ASK ME, I'M JUST FULFILLING DEAN WINCHESTER'S DESIRE.

*Gif isn't mine, tell me if you know who's the owner.

Dean should blame himself for it. That was completely his fault, not even partially. It was just totally, one hundred percent Winchester levels of dumbass. He was the one who, in the middle of a usual argument with Sam, made the unfortunate comment about women, speaking, and the Zorro mask.

In his defense, he didn't think you'd actually do that.

But in contradiction, when had you said no to new experiences? Dean still had the bruises falling from Harvelle's pool table while you two were at it, right after the bar was closed and everyone went to sleep.

So yeah. His cock was hard, throbbing, and dropping precum as he watched you waltz in wearing nothing but black lingerie and a Zorro mask.

That was on him. His cock, needy and decidedly erect, was on him. You looking this fucking good and almost making him whine to touch you, that was on him. You walking towards him with a malicious grin twisted in your black lipstick? Also on him.

Being the guilty one can be good if you look forward to punishment.

Dean Winchester certainly did. Naked in his mattress like a meal waiting to be eaten, he knew what was coming next, and the idea of it awakened goosebumps down his spine and made him wet his lips.

Come on, Y/N. Hurry up.

You, meanwhile, took it slow, making your way there step by step towards him. There was a certain delight in the appreciation of seeing someone needing your touch like a pious man in need of his god to worship.

You sat down beside him, fingertips quickly discovering their way on Dean's biceps. He tilted his head to the side, not even noticing as he pressed himself to whatever he could take from you in that position.

He was so touch-starved for any kind of contact. Violent, he'd always be ready for combat. Or sweet, he'd always be on his knees for a kiss.

Tonight, you'd unite both.

“What's your safe word, Dean?” You placed your hand on his cheek, watching with a beam as your boyfriend leaned in. “Dean?”

“Impala,” he mumbled through his grumpy voice.

“Lay on your belly. Now,” you said, wearing an authoritative tone that you knew Dean loved. “Don't you dare hump the mattress, Dean. This cock is mine, and you won't get any relief unless I say. Understood?”

He gulped, uncertain if that should turn him on as much as it did. Dean did as he was told, changing rolling onto his belly. A soft moan left his lips when the plush of the comforter pressed against his length — he wouldn't disobey you, but this was at least some relief.

You paced around the bed. Should you sit by his side? In the middle? On his legs? There were a bunch of options, but you wanted it to be the most comfortable for both you and Dean. Ultimately, you opted for the last one, climbing on the bed and sitting on his thighs right in front of his untouched butt. All this hot piece of his body ever knew was some playful grabbing or joking slaps throughout the years — nothing truly sexual.

Honestly, you didn't know how the ones before you ever resisted giving it a quality smack.

You could see that Dean was doing his best to obey you, to keep in line as you said. He was so used to always being in charge, screaming orders and taking the responsibility. He needed this, even for just a little while. It was a moment where he could be just a little soldier, only following orders and letting someone else take control.

Your hands rested on the Winchester's shoulder blade. He was so warm, under your body and your palms. You loved it. His freckles were scattered stars amiss under your hungry eyes, and your hands were going down slowly, finding a certain amusement in making Dean sweat through anticipation.

Dean had tilted his head, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening since you sat on his legs. He had to admit it was one hell of a sight. That, plus the way you leaned in stuffed your cleavage right into his brightened eyes.

He blurted out, “Fuck, Y/N. This is hot.”

“Quiet,” you hissed, hands finally on his waist now. Attempting the first slap on his ass, you watched as his face contorted into pleasure. Good. “Count for me.”

“One,” Dean said under his breath, his usual gruff voice even deeper now. He looked so handsome like this, behaving so well for you. “Two.” And another. ”Three.” Another slap, and this time, his white butt was starting to flush red. “Five.”

He misplaced a number, too hooked on the sensation of being taken care of. You were never a selfish lover, always making sure his pleasure was a priority too, but to be dominated, to just free himself of everything and give himself to someone with all the trust he'd have in a battle — Fuck, he might cum.

Dean needed that, and you understood. You gave it to him.

“You forgot the four. Isn't you who always tells me to stay on all fours so you can fuck me good? What a shame, Winchester.” You groaned at him, sinking your nails into his tender flesh. Dean moaned louder at this, the pain and desire mixing like whiskey and ice. He couldn't wait to drink the whole bottle. “Start again.”

God, you being authoritative on him took away all of his self control, but he needed to obey. For you.

“Four. Fi—” Smack. He was interrupted by another hit.

“From the beginning.” You licked your lips, moving a little on your spot. That was hotter than you pictured. Your pussy was already soaked.

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five.” You knew numbers could mean a lot of things. Deaths, cures, quantities. Numbers could be stupid, good worrying, even all three, but you never knew they could be so dirty until Dean moaned after each slap on his now-hot ass, as if they were confirmation of such a sinful act. Math might have just become your favorite thing. “Six. Seven.” The collision of your palm on his ass, leaving a trace of yourself on his body, was the most exciting thing you had ever seen. Your touch molded his skin to your liking. While his cock grew harder and made a mess out of the sheets with his precum, at least the spanking pushed him onto the bed a bit, a single moment of friction on both sides. “Eight. Nine. Ten.”

Dean was perfect like this. He didn't even notice, but his hips were slightly arched now, inching closer in hunger for more.

When would you ever deny that for him?

“You're doing so good, baby. Imma let you get some friction. Fuck the mattress as if you were fucking me, but don't stop counting or I won't let you come.”

Yeah, that's all on him. Fortunately, Dean knew in that moment that there was no way for him to be any happier.

He’d be proven wrong in a few minutes after he came, but that’s on him too.

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cantsaythetword · 3 years

Text

There’s That Smile!

~A/N - So I was the ultra stressed depressed lemon zest a few weeks ago cause there was a lot of stuff going on, but now I be all good. Just a little fic I wrote to help myself feel a bit better lol.

Also kinda based on a post I saw a while ago by @ablushingmess which I will link here. It is the biggest of moods sometimes, so I figured I’d write a fic like it (and give credit where credit is due).

Anyways, hoping you all are doing ok!

- Enoy! ~

Tag List: @milly23

* Masterpost Link *

Why did exams exist?

It was a question you asked yourself every time exam block rolled around each term.

A test of memory, performance under extreme and unnecessary pressure, and just a petri dish for anxiety to form it’s horrible little colonies of stress and nerves.

In short, you hated it.

And this time was no different. You had been studying day and night for the last three months for this maths exam, and it was now a mere 2 days away. Where most students would either be cramming whatever knowledge they were meant to cover, or relaxing and trying to destress, you had been panicking and worrying endlessly about the 2 hours of hell you’d have to endure.

You had managed to fake a normal mood for the last week, but you couldn’t keep it up forever. And, inevitably, someone was bound to see through your façade at some point.

That person turned out to be Nat.

Damnit she was always good at picking cues up from you. Even if you weren’t trying to hint at anything. She had already asked you if everything was ok twice, and you really didn’t want to worry her. Plus, there’s only so many times you can use the “I’m just tired” excuse before it starts to become suspicious.

Thankfully, she seemed to accept that you really didn’t want to talk about it. Well, both thankfully and unfortunately. You knew it would help to talk about it, but getting to that point is just so difficult it’s almost not even worth your time.

Time you could spend worrying! Yay!

But one thing about Nat is that when she senses something is wrong and can’t do anything herself, she is bound to outsource. And outsource she did. Because sure enough, a few days later Tony was now asking you what was up. Apparently he had been noticing you hadn’t been yourself recently, and the more he looked the more concerned he got.

Goddamnit Natasha, making your friends worry about you.

Your beautifully creative mind managed to put him at ease with an “oh I just haven’t been sleeping well recently”, which seemed to throw him off your scent.

Then, there was Sam...

“You’re nervous as shit.” He chuckled at you one late evening.

There was no malice behind it, no ill-meaning tone. But still it shook you to your core.

“Exams got you stressed?” He asked, a more serious note to his voice.

Fuck. Spot on again. And you knew he wouldn’t take the bullshit sleep excuse, no, you’d need something much smarter.

Before you could come up with something though, you were wrapped in a hug from behind. There was a few moments of silence (and not gonna lie, a really nice hug), before the mystery embracer spoke.

“So that’s what’s been up.” Tony sighed. “You know you can talk to us Y/N. Any time, about any thing.”

You simply nodded, leaning further into the hug. God, this felt nice.

“It’s been weird not seeing you smile recently.” He admitted, softly rubbing your back. “Never mind laughing.”

You gave a small chuckle at that. “Sorry.” You sighed. “I just get... nervous.”

“Hey!” Tony gently tickled your sides, causing you to let out a gasp and some light laughter. “Don’t apologise for being stressed.”

After the giggles subsided you nodded, a smile still brightening up your face.

Though the brief talk with Tony gave you the best nights sleep you’d had in weeks, it was now the night before the exam. And by god you were freaking out.

You, Tony, and Thor were shifting some furniture around the living spaces at the compound. It was obvious you weren’t in the moment, and you were constantly jumpy and skittish. Your breathing was heavy and fast, body beginning to shake, and the growing lump in your throat suggested you were on the verge of a panic attack.

Great.

After one of the larger couches had been moved, Thor suggested you take a quick break. It was clear, both by the tone of his voice and the concerned look in his eyes, that he could tell something was up, he just didn’t know what or how to deal with it.

That’s where Tony stepped in.

He half tackled, half pulled you onto the floor next to the couch and wrapped his arms around you. Thor slid down beside the two of you, his shoulder pressing next to yours. You wriggled in half-protest, mumbling something about not wanting to slow them down, but you weren’t really complaining.

Tony gave gentle shushing noises to you, while Thor ran his fingers over your head and through your hair. The sudden comforting hug almost instantly gave you a soft ripple of calmness throughout your body. You didn’t know how you had been brought from the verge of an anxiety attack to the verge of sleep so quickly, but you weren’t going to dwell on it.

Every so often, Thor’s finger would brush against your ears, sending shivery tingles cascading down your back. You would tense slightly, but it wasn’t a bad sensation. It almost relaxed you further.

“Hey, there’s that smile.” Tony chuckled softly. You hadn’t even realised that the tickly feelings had brought a smile onto your face. You could feel his hands move closer to your torso, and (though you would never admit it), you adjusted your position to give him better access to your sides and tummy.

Your giggling rose to just above audible, and by the size of Tony and Thor’s smiles they were loving it just as much as you. Thor had moved from the top of your head to your ribs, while Tony focused more on your belly and hips. It never became more intense than gentle scritches, and to be honest you weren’t really looking for anything more.

Nat rounded the corner to see the three of you in a giant cuddle pile. With a soft grin on her face, she gathered a few duvets and pillows to set up for an impromptu movie night.

Throwing a blanket over the three of you, before settling down on the sofa behind you, she was about to give the boys a playful whack to stop them from tickling you, when she realised how little you were doing to stop it (and how much you seemed to be enjoying it). She instead opted to silently join in. Gently tracing her fingernails around the shell of your ears, down the sides of your neck and occasionally across your collarbones. Based on how you tilted your neck to give her even more skin to tickle, she was pretty sure she made the right decision.

You were in literal heaven.

The television turned on to play a movie, but you fell asleep before you could even recognise what it was. The last thing you remember was Tony giving you a squeeze, and whispering into your ear.

“We are always there for you, and we will always love you.”

And you loved your family too.

#fic #mine #yeah wasn't the fun times :(#but i be doing better

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