#avegners

Thor has some Asgardian liquor to share with Bruce who can’t get drunk on the alcohol here, and soon enough the two are going at it with arm wrestling competitions. Clint hasn’t had much to drink, insisting he has to leave early to go home to his family but promising he’ll visit once a week to check up on everyone. You’d expect specific people to be grouped together but they’re not: Gamora and Natasha are sitting together on the couch, no doubt talking about their shared experiences on Vormir, and Ant-Man, or Scott as he keeps telling you to call him, is in the middle of a drinking competition with Tony.

You definitely feel a little out of place here, but there’s something else that feels off tonight. There’s something missing. You’re sitting at the bar nursing a beer, wearing tight black jeans with combat boots and a burgundy button up top. You couldn’t be bothered with something formal like a dress since it’s just a small party. Just as you finish your beer, Strange comes up from behind you still wearing his cloak - you’re beginning to think he sleeps in that thing.

“Glad you figured it out. Well done, Y/L/N.” He says before reaching over the bar and grabbing the bottle of whiskey with another glass. He pours one for you and refills his own before tapping his glass to yours and taking a sip.

“I’d like to say I’m mad at you for not telling me earlier, but I’m sure you’ll cryptically say it wouldn’t have happened if you did.” You laugh together and you’re tipsy enough to lean towards him, your head brushing against his shoulder. You don’t notice Natasha’s eyes as sharp as daggers watching your every move. 

“Listen, I don’t think we should talk about this here, or now, but I think we might have another problem.” You lean in closer to him with a teasing smirk on your face.

“Are you going to tell me this problem or do I have to figure it out on my own?” He chuckles for a brief second before sighing and shaking his head. Your expressions turns a little more serious after realising this might be a problem problem.

“Wanda’s missing. Clint said she’s just been in her room grieving, but I couldn’t feel her energy. So I checked, and she’s not there.” You knew something was missing; what you couldn’t feel was her magic, her strong aura, that pull you had towards her.

“That’s what was missing.” You mumble and he tilts his head at you in confusion before you shake your head and ask, “Do you think she’s in trouble or…?” You trail on, too scared to admit or even think about what she’s capable of doing. You know she’s a good person at heart, but what you saw in her eyes, that pain is something you know is powerful enough to consume anyone.

“I think she might be the one to cause the trouble.” He glances over his shoulder to make sure no one’s close enough to hear and Natasha quickly turns her head back to the conversation she was having with Bruce, Gamora and Starlord. Strange shifts his stool closer to you, voice going down to a whisper.

“Can’t you just…do your thing and look at what happens?” You breathe out, circling the top of the glass with your middle finger. The rings of your fingers sparkle under the warm light from the hanging bulbs above the bar.

“I can, but then again, when I do that all I am is a mere observer of the future. I can’t do anything to change or prevent it from happening.” You nod in understanding and sigh, taking a sip of the whiskey trying to keep your face neutral at the harsh liquid slipping down your throat. You always were more of a beer person, maybe cider every now and then. You weren’t much of a drinker after you recovered from your unhealthy binging habits years ago. 

“Right. I tried to help her, you know. I could…when she touched me I could feel her pain, and it was a lot. But what’s scarier is I know that pain was just the tip of the iceberg.” Thinking back to the moment you had with her, you can’t get those emotions out of your head. It was strong, powerful, almost like a heated mess that was getting ready to blow. Her magic felt unstable, and maybe that’s why you were drawn to her.

“I might not know her, but I feel like her magic is calling for me. It’s hard to explain but-” You excitedly interrupt him with a hand on his arm, grinning at the fact that you have a friend you can talk to about this type of stuff. He understands magic, and you can’t wait till you can discuss it in even more depth with him, preferably with his spell books to study.

“No, I feel it too. I understand completely. I just-” You turn towards the interruption.

“Hey. What you drinking?” Natasha’s voice, a little higher than it usually is, interrupts the two of you. She almost steps between you two and probably could have if Strange hadn’t moved his stool closer earlier. She gives you a wide smile and Strange a tight one.

“Oh, hey Natasha. Just whiskey.” You turn back to Strange and can tell he’s feeling a little uncomfortable to talk about this with anyone else around. “Meet me outside tomorrow morning?” He gives you a smile and nod before leaving to find Tony who pulls him into a tight hug with a loud laugh. Natasha takes his seat and pulls the stick of olives out of her martini to bite one off. Your eyes are drawn to her lips again and her white teeth biting softly.

“So, what you guys doing tomorrow?” She asks curiously, and you laugh nervously, sipping on your drink.

“Oh, we just have some stuff to talk about.” She hums in response before spitting out the pit. You watch it fall against the glass bar before rolling off.

“Sounds important.” She bites her bottom lip again and you close your eyes for a second to compose yourself before tapping your fingers on the bar lightly. Her eyes follow the movement of your fingers and she bites her lip a little harder.

“It might be, it might not be. Don’t really know yet, I guess we take it one step at a time.” At your sigh and smile, she leans away from you. Her expression changes a little, eyes no longer confident and lips turned down. 

“Oh. I didn’t know you guys were like, dating?” You almost spit out your drink at that. You and Strange? Well, that in itself is strange considering men are nowhere near comparable to women - at least to you. There’s something about a woman’s touch, her soft skin against yours, her gentle kisses that just drives you crazy. You laugh at her assumption and take notice of her confused but also disappointed expression. You’re starting to think the possibility of her being attracted to you is higher than you initially thought it was. Your thighs rub together at the thought.

“Oh! No, no, definitely not! I’m insanely gay. Strictly women.” Suddenly that disappointment on her face is gone, replaced with a smirk.

“I’m sorry for that assumption. You guys just look close is all.” She says in a low voice while shifted a little to face you. Her hand is now mimicking yours by running her finger along the top of her glass.

“Oh no, don’t worry about it. Honest mistake.” Your eyes stick to her finger, hypnotised by the way it’s moving, twisting, curling. You tried not to stare tonight when you first saw her in that blue dress. It’s not even tight, or short, or scandalous; she just looks insanely beautiful in her long dress with the slit on the side to show off a little skin. Midnight blue looks good on her and it reminds you of the hue that lit her up in Vormir.

“So, what kind of women?” She asks you but you barely hear her question, still focused on her fingers. Her hand suddenly stops and she chuckles at you, drawing your attention back to her face.

“Huh?” You ask, confused, mouth hung open a little, eyes a shade darker.

“What kind of women are you interested in? Got a type?” Natasha inches closer, smirking playfully but the look in her eyes tell you she actually wants to know your answer. You decide to play her little game, gaining the confidence to flirt back.

“Just…women.” You tease, expecting her to ask more to show her interest. She groans at your response and you gulp at the reminder of her groans you heard earlier. Those, paired with the look on her face right now as she closes her eyes and pulls her brows together to meet in the middle…needless to say your imagination will run with this.

“Come on, give me more than that. Any exes?” Her eyes narrow as she asks, but you look away and clear your throat. That’s not something you want to think about. It’s over and it has been over for her for years, so there’s no point dwelling on the past. This whole time jump is a lot to take in but in all honesty it feels more like a fresh start for you. A new book maybe, or just a new chapter. There was no real life for you to leave behind anyway, not when Jasmine was all you had.

“Yes. I was with someone, Jasmine, before I vanished. Came back and she was with someone else so I guess that’s over.” Her hand rests on top of yours and squeezes gently. It’s comforting, but that’s not all you want now. You don’t want sympathy, you just want her. You turn to face her again with a smirk. “She’s a blonde. Blue eyes. But I prefer redheads…and combined with green eyes? God, I can’t help wanting to rail them until they absolutely break.” You punctuate most of that last sentence and watch proudly as she gulps. Her eyes flick between your own and your lips.

“Are you flirting with me, Y/L/N? Very bold.” She lets out a nervous laugh, clearing her throat and composing herself. She’s grown use to making advancements towards women rather than the other way round. But you’ve always been more dominant, and your experiences mean you can easily read when someone has a more submissive side, even if it’s hidden deep down. The way you’re throwing her off has her eyes losing that strong seduction, turning into desperate desire. The different shades of green you’ve already seen in her eyes are imprinted in your memory to help future you figure out exactly how she’s feeling just by looking into her eyes.

“I can think of something bolder.” You mumble, thinking back to when you heard her fucking herself earlier. You’re bold enough to bring it up and tease her with it, hoping it doesn’t cross any boundaries. Her reaction to it will tell you all you need to know.

“Hmm? What’s what?” She asks, licking her lips now, inching even closer to you, so close your nose almost brushes against hers.

“Nothing. Just thinking about how the walls between our rooms are really thin…” You whisper, watching as her eyes widen and she lets out a small gasp. You smirk at her before standing up, gulping down the rest of your glass and strolling over to where a few people have turned Tony’s pool table into beer pong. You know her eyes follow you.

By the end of the night, Thor had come to the decision that he’ll leave with Starlord and his crew. Space is what he’s always known, and with Thanos defeated and Steve gone, he feels like his time on Earth is done. With both Steve and Thor gone, Tony felt the only natural thing for him to do was leave too and go back to his cabin with Pepper and Morgan. By his logic, since word has spread - according to Carol - and practically every being in the universe is aware that Earth’s mightiest heroes managed to defeat Thanos, the chances of being attacked again are incredibly low. Clint left earlier, eager to go back to his family, but not without hugging Natasha for an incredibly long amount of time, and you’re sure you saw tears in her eyes when she pulled away. The only people that decided to stay living in the compound was you, Natasha, Bruce, Sam, Bucky, and surprisingly Carol. She said she’d like to have a break, and being around friends is exactly what she needs.

“What exactly can you do with your powers? You mentioned rules earlier?” Carol asks you curiously, sitting on the couch across yours. You look over the cards in your hand and see her leaning back and sipping on her beer. It’s almost 1am. Most people have either left or gone to bed at this point but you, Carol, and Natasha at the pool table playing a game with Bucky.

“I wasn’t really joking earlier when I said I’m a writer. There’s an art to it.” You playfully reply and drop a card on top of the stack on the coffee table. She lets out a loud laugh that you don’t realise gains Natasha’s attention. If you lift your head up you’d see her greener than Bruce. Her jealousy with Strange was unjustified, but considering you’re into women, and it’s clear Carol is too, she can’t help the feeling that possesses her.

“An art? Please, enlighten me.” She leans forward with her elbows on her knees, narrowing her eyes at you. You sigh and lean forward too, placing your cards on the table to try and come up with an answer.

“It has to make sense. What I write has to flow together like I’m writing a story, a poem, like it’s a sentence or paragraph in a novel. I can’t just write ‘Tony is brought back to life’. There’s no action to cause that, no logic behind it.” You speak a little slowly, alcohol gone to your head at this point in the night. She’s still nursing her beer, this time rolling her eyes a little. You tilt your head, somewhat offended by her reaction.

“That doesn’t seem too hard though.” She shrugs her shoulders and you do the same in response.

“I didn’t say it was.” She lets out an empty laugh with her hands raised up. You think you hear something that sounds like a growl but you focus on Carol smirking at you.

“I’m just saying, you came here out of nowhere insisting that you can save us all-” Her tone isn’t one you appreciate, and it’s not one Natasha appreciates either as she interrupts her before you can.

“And she did. Could you have brought Tony back? Me? Gamora?” Nat’s towering over her with her arms crossed over her chest, eyes dangerously dark and glaring at her. It’s probably not a good idea to provoke Captain Marvel, but Black Widow might get a punch or two in. As hot as it sounds, you’d rather not have these girls fighting over you right now so you clear your throat but Carol beats you to it this time.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Nat. It just seems like Y/N got lucky. You can just write what you want and boom, it works.” You scoff at that and both of them turn to look at you as you lift your hand up. 

“I’m afraid it’s not quite like that. There’s consequences…but only I feel them.” You move your fingers, twisting and twirling them around as magic radiates off of them. First yellow, but a little purple begins to twist with it causing you to sigh and shake your hand again. There’s a silence as Carol seems to understand the implications of what you’ve just shown her. Now she’s looking at you with not only sympathy and guilt, but a little fear. It’s a natural reaction to purple magic. Nat doesn’t quite understand it but she glances between the two of you and relaxes a little as Carol clears her throat and stands up.

“We’ll have a go at first impressions again tomorrow.” She says with a chuckle and nod.

“I think we’re on third impressions by now, Danvers.” You narrow your eyes playfully and she shakes her head with a smile before walking off.

“Have a nice night, ladies.” She yells when she makes her way down the corridor. You look around quickly and see Bucky had snuck away at some point during the conversation. Natasha sighs and throws herself down on the couch next to you, close enough for your thighs to be touching.

“You’re cute, you know.” You say with a wide smile. Her cheeks flush pink and she tries to turn her head away but you use a finger on her chin to turn her back to face you. You decide then and there that you’re going to make her blush at least once a day just to see that face again. 

“Stop it.” Nat lets out a quiet giggle and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. It’s in waves after being taken out of the braid it was in. Despite how badly you loved her bright red locks when you first saw the Avengers in the news all those years ago, you have to admit to yourself that the transition to blonde tips looks even better. She looks softer, more comfortable with herself rather than having to put up a front of this badass assassin.

“No, you are. The way you just tried to defend me was adorable. And hot.” You husk out with a playful wink and stretch your arm to rest on the back of the couch, fingertips lightly playing with her hair. She bites her lip, looks down at her lap before looking back up with nervous eyes.

“How hot?” She asks in a low voice, leaning in closer to you, almost panting with how quick she’s breathing. You lean in closer, hypnotised by her eyes that are turning a darker shade of green by the second.

“If you’re lucky enough you might hear my answer to that question when you’re laying in bed tonight.” You whisper, breath lingering on her lips and you definitely don’t miss the small whimper she tries to swallow.

“Thin walls.” She mumbles and reaches a hand to rest on your thigh but suddenly pulls back when she makes contact. There was a spark. No, a literal spark of yellow coming out of her fingertips. “What was that?” You stutter, not knowing how to respond to that. You’ve had theories, but not much experience when it comes to using your magic on other people. “I-I don’t have powers. Was that you? It came out of me.” Her eyes are wide and frantic as she pulls back and holds her hands out in front of her, twisting and turning them to see if there’s anything wrong. You take a hold of her hands, feeling the need to take care of her and keep her calm.

“Relax, it’s not you. Just me. Inside you.” Her eyebrow raises at that with a faint blush and you let out a chuckle, rubbing the back of her hand with your thumb. ”My magic, I mean. Bringing you back was a magic trick I guess, so it takes some time for that to fade out of you. But it’ll go. I promise.” She nods and looks up at you after dropping her hands to her lap. She tries to sit closer to you, almost on your lap at this point, hand resting on your thigh and your hand back to playing with her hair.

“What if I don’t want it to go? Is that why I feel so…I don’t know. It’s like there’s a rope and it’s wrapped around the both of us, and anytime I get too far it stretches…and it hurts, and I want to get closer.” You feel it too, and the fact that she’s feeling it and wants to keep feeling it drives you crazy. Your eyes focus in on her lips, wet after she’s swiped her tongue across it, plump and full, so kissable. Your nose brushes against hers and you look up to look into her eyes.

“I don’t know if that’s my magic or just…our magic.” You mumble and she pulls back to let out a loud laugh that stretches a wide smile on your face. God, she’s just…music. Her laugh, giggles, chuckles…her moans, groans, whimpers. You want to see what other sounds you can pull out of her.

“That was cheesy.” She whispers, leaning in again. Her hand moves higher up your thigh and yours moves from her hair to her cheek. 

“Why is that?”

“It just seems like someone paid quite the money to the press. That shit is everywhere. In all newspapers, the radio, the television, the internet. Some P.R techniques they have. I’m pretty sure that half the world doesn’t know who Izel Demirçan is. And Carlisle? When you talk about aristocrats and noble families of Great Britain, let’s be honest, you think about the Queen, Kate and William. Carlisle who?” you shook your head and Tony let out a laugh.

“I think you are jealous.”

“Jealous?!” you exclaimed and sent him an outraged look. “Why would I be jealous!?”

“Come on, sweetheart. You met Rayland Carlisle a few years ago and you totally fell for his charms,” he smirked knowingly as he closed off the holograms and turned his full attention to you. “You are still bitter he chose that girl. But honestly, I’m glad he did. That guy is a total douche. You would’ve regretted having him as a boyfriend,” he told you with a bit of a serious tone and you frowned.

“Maybe you’re right… We’ll never know now,” you shrugged and he hummed before standing up and going over to the kitchen counter where a box of pizza stood unopened.

“C’mon. Want me to warm that up? Eat junk food and binge Netflix?” he asked with raised brows and your frown turned into a smile as you nodded.

“Should we go to that party?” you asked once your father returned to his spot next to you and handed you a plate with two pizza slices.

“Well, as much as I would hate going, we have to. We are part of the high life and we have to keep up an image,” he huffed. “And connections,” his eyebrows shot to his hairline as he sent you a knowing look and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I know, I know. They are all licking our asses so we should show our faces once in awhile.”

“Hey, look at it like this. You’ll show that guy how gorgeous you are and rub it in his face just how much he’s missing,” the two of you laughed hard at this as you kept stuffing your faces with pizza and ice cream, watching The Witcher all day long.

Oh, it was totally the event of the year. It was full of famous people, overstuffed in fact. They had even gotten a red carpet so even if you weren’t a celebrity, you would feel like one once your feet stepped on the red fluff. But you? It was annoying for you. The moment you stepped out of the car and stood in all your glory in front of everybody, you felt like Jennifer Lopez in the ‘Papi’ music video. All paparazzi were swarming you and your father. The flashes almost blinded you. Even though you had on sunglasses. A few years ago you had often asked yourself why your father always wore sunglasses, even during the night when going on events. Then you had started attending events alongside him and you finally understood.

“Y/N!”

“Look here!”

You grunted inwardly as you put a hand on your hip, raised your head as if everyone were beneath you, and posed. You wore a D&G dress, perhaps one of their most famous dresses, sold for almost 50 000$. It was quite a simple, very tight dress with ¾ sleeves, reaching your knees. It was red and sparkling all over. The accessories you picked were a pair of dangling, golden earrings with red rubies and red stilettos with a ribbon around the ankle. Your hairstyle was rather simple too – a low ponytail, lazily slumped over your shoulder and resting on your chest. Peter and Ned had all but screamed in your face that this was the infamous hairstyle of death. You had just stared at them before walking away.

Your father offered you his elbow and you smiled as the two of you walked as quickly as accepted, entering the hotel and sighing in relief when all flashes and crowds were left behind you. A hostess appeared then and guided you to the restaurant where most of the guests were already gathered. Tony patted your shoulder as he left your side once someone waved at him.

“Glad you came, Stark,” someone’s voice snapped you out of your miserable thoughts and you contained yourself from rolling your eyes as you turned around, coming face to face with no other than Rayland.

“Congratulations on the engagement, Carlisle,” you sent him a fake smile as you shook his hand and he grinned, offering you a glass of champagne. “We aren’t twenty-one yet,” you raised your eyebrows and he snorted.

“It’s just some champagne. Besides, who cares about law, right, when we have such status?” that made you roll your eyes harder but you took the glass nonetheless and gulped it down. “Come. The whole squad is over there,” he placed a hand on your waist and guided you to a table where a few other people were gathered around. You resented the said ‘old squad’. It consisted of rich, spoiled, bratty kids who thought the world was at their feet which meant they treated anyone with “lower” status like some scum. Oh how they mocked the poor.

“Oho, look who came,” grinned a handsome blonde man with the most piercing blue eyes. Jett Forrester. His family was filthy rich because they held multiple cigarette factories. Getting rich by killing people. How convenient. Then again, her father and grandfather had been the same. They had created weapons and sold them and these weapons had taken lives.

“The female version of Tony Stark,” smirked smugly another. Unlike Jett’s angelic features, his’ screamed danger. Heartbreaker. Bad guy. Fuckboy. Kind of like Damon Salvatore. That’s with whom you had associated him when you first met. Oliver Dawson. He was Jett’s best friend. While the blonde’s family dealt with cigarettes, the Dawsons dealt with alcohol. In fact, they weren’t just best friends. They were cousins too.

“Hey there, pretty girl,” smiled charmingly the third boy. He was probably even more dangerous than Oliver. Because his looks and attitude were both gentle and charming and a little bit mischievous – soft brown curls and forest-green eyes. James Corrigan. His family dealt with fashion. High couture.

“Hi, girl. I’ve missed you.” And there was the future bride – Izel. She was your typical Barbie beauty with long, curly dirty-blonde hair, slightly tanned skin and olive eyes.

All of you had studied in a private school but after you broke it off with Rayland you insisted that you stopped going so your father hired you private tutors and later on had you transferred to Mid Town where you had met Peter. He was the one who had shown you a much different world, far away from the rich and their suffocating mannerism and extravagancy. He was also the one who had healed you from that horrible heartbreak.

You didn’t tell your father back then. Up to this day he thinks you only had a huge crush when in fact, you and that guy had been dating secretly. He was your first boyfriend. The first boy you fell in love with. And hard. Then he cheated on you and dumped you. It had taken quite the effort to keep your sorrow to yourself and act less heartbroken in front of your dad. You thanked the heavens for Peter. Not only did he help with your heartbreak but he also helped you overcome the horrible outcome of the Sokovia Accords.

“Glad to see you all,” you managed to utter and smile before you all engaged into some pointless conversation. Izel left after some time and you just kept glancing at your father afterwards, not noticing the boys having a silent conversation through their eyes, nor the powder they slipped in your drink and then in theirs too before sniggering between one another.

“Should we really do that?” asked Jett and the others chuckled.

“Of course. C’mon, it’s gonna be so fun. It’s a party after all. Live a little,” patted his shoulder Oliver and the man shook his head with a smile. Sure. Being high wouldn’t hurt anybody. It would just triple their fun.

“Why are you guys snickering like some gossip girls?” you asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“It’s nothing. Just an inside joke. Now, bottoms up,” you shrugged at that and all of you clinked your glasses and quickly downed them.  

After that everyone gathered around the young couple who put their rings on each other’s fingers and shared a passionate kiss. More champagne bottles popped and the music was blasted to the max. The majority, consisting of younger people, moved to the bar area on the other side of the hotel while the others stayed at the restaurant for classy drinks, cigarettes and talks about business.

Everybody started dancing including you. Everything stopped making sense after some time. The music was booming in your ears, everything was spinning, the flashing colors were blinding you and you couldn’t stop smiling for some reason. You had no idea what was happening. At some point you felt yourself grinding against someone but their face was blurry. Was it James or Oliver you had no idea. Your mind was so fuzzy. But it was fun. At one point Izel left your side to go to the toilet or whatever. You just shrugged her off.

Everything was shits and giggles until you saw the four ‘friends’ of yours leaving with two girls, the door opening and letting light in for a brief moment, making you squint, before it closed again and the bar was dark again. You started sobering a bit after that as irritation bubbled within you. The guy just got engaged and he and his friends were going to have some fun with hookers? Or maybe take advantage of drunk girls? Oh, how you wanted to give them a piece of your mind. You started walking towards the door, stumbling occasionally. You could hear their laughter and slurred words as you followed them through the hallways, running, then up the stairs, tripping and standing, tripping and standing until you reached a floor. They were running down the hallway and laughing and you followed. Finally catching up, you saw them opening the door to some room, urging the girls inside. You stomped towards them and grabbed one girl by the arm, yanking her away. That certainly shut them all up.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” you asked and the boys looked at one another then laughed.

“Calm your tits. We’re jus’ havin’ some fun,” drawled Rayland and you narrowed your eyes at him as you shoved the girl away and grabbed the other one’s arm, pulling her away from Oliver’s embrace.

“Off you go. You’ll thank me later,” you told the girls and watched as they tripped over their legs in attempt to walk away as fast as possible.

“The hell’s wrong with you!” all but screamed James and his friends sniggered.

“C’mon, is not the end of the world. We still have a girl.”

“We do?”

“Yes.”

The four looked at you hungrily and suddenly you felt like someone splashed cold water on you, making you freeze. You didn’t even realize when you were grabbed by the hand and dragged into the room. You managed to break free but you were shoved harshly, causing you to trip and fall on the floor. You heard the door being locked and that’s when you realized you fucked up. You needed help. Unlike the other Avengers, you didn’t have any special abilities. Natasha had taught you some self-defense if you ever found yourself in a pickle but that was it. You were better in your role as the ‘guy in the chair’ as Ned had put it, preferring to help everyone on their missions from the lab or working with your dad on his suits. And after the Ultron accident you had become Helen Cho’s apprentice. But fighting? It was not your thing. Especially when you were drunk and drugged.

You stood up quickly, head swirling, and faced the boys. Then you ran. The room was quite huge. Maybe you could lock yourself in the bathroom or something?

“Not so fast,” laughed Oliver as he ran and blocked your path, making you halt and switch directions only to once again be blocked by Jett who grabbed you by the waist and flushed your back against his front, holding you, pressing kisses on your neck.

“Let go!” you shouted as you elbowed him in the gut, making him sputter. You grabbed his arm and bit down as hard as possible, making him yelp in pain and completely let you go. You ran to the other side of the bed and stood near the bedside cabinet fully intending on grabbing the lamp and attacking with it but Oliver jumped into action and grabbed your hand, wringing your wrist painfully until it snapped. You screamed and he used your weakened state to push you, causing you to fall on the bed. He didn’t waste time to press you down and a second later, the other three joined him. They forcefully turned you on your back and pinned your hands above your head.

“Why you gotta screeeam? We are havin’ fun aren’t we?” laughed James as he stood up and grabbed a bottle of scotch that was on a nearby dresser, possibly a gift to the guest, and clumsily opened it, pouring out its contents all over you. You coughed, turning your head away. Everything was so wet and sticky now. It only made them laugh harder as they ripped the upper part of your dress, exposing your chest, poured more alcohol on you and rubbed it nicely onto your skin, groping your breasts and thighs in the process.

“N-now what?” asked Jett and Oliver sent him a smirk before he nestled himself in front of you and unbuckled his belt. Your eyes widened and you tried closing your legs but he pried them open, roughly bunching your dress up to your abdomen and grabbing your panties, ripping them and throwing them on the floor.

“No! Help!” you screeched but a hand covered your mouth, turning all loud screams into muffled.

“C’mon. You’re gonna enjoy that, you lil virgin. You’re already wet. Look, she’s already wet,” pointed out Rayland.

“Don’t know if it’s hers or the alcohol,” commented James and everyone laughed.

You trashed around as much as possible but they were pressing down on you hard and your movements were getting slower. And then you felt it. The searing pain as he harshly thrust into you. You didn’t know how long he kept going. It seemed as if ages passed. And when you thought everything ended, when he finally pulled out, the other one came. He pounded into you even rougher than the previous. You screamed and screamed and screamed now that nobody was covering your mouth but you knew that no help would arrive at this point. This whole floor was reserved for guests of the Carlisle’s and everybody was possibly still partying downstairs. The other two had their turns as well until they finally let you go. You heard water running afterwards and some splashing. They were having a nice bubble bath to clean themselves. But what about you? Who would clean you? Who? How? Your tears kept falling and falling as you curled in yourself, choking on your sobbing.

You wanted your dad.

Author Note: I hope you enjoyed it~ Feel free to ask any questions if you are confused about something. Feel free to correct me if you see any mistakes.

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You nodded with agreement and turned around from him completely, fixing up the blanked about to fall off your shoulders.

Peter watched you as you led the way inside the living room, his own heart now broken for you. He hated seeing the person he loves the most, cry over some other jerk that broke her heart. He never trusted him – Brad to be exact - in the first place, but still supported Y/n to start a relationship with him. Peter can see now that he should have been a bad best friend and made sure she knew how much he hated Brad. Maybe that would have prevented Y/n from going out with Brad in the first place?

“You want me to get you something?” Peter asked while you sat down on the sofa.

You cracked a smile towards him and nodded lightly. “Hot chocolate?”

“Anything you want.” Peter gave you a sweet smile before heading inside the kitchen.

The two of you had know each other since forever, so Peter knew his way around the kitchen to find everything he needed. Today he just wanted to be your hero, not the world’s superhero Spiderman. He wanted to focus on you and make you feel loved. He wanted to let you know how little you actually needed Brad. Brad was the one to lose everything after he broke up with you, not you.

After about a few minutes did Peter enter the living room again and placed a white mug with hot chocolate. The sweet smell of chocolate managed to force a wry smile on your face, causing Peter’s heart to melt a little for you. Peter sat down next to you and stared at your actions; sighting, leaning forward gently, lifting up the cup, smelling the chocolate, taking a small sip from the mug, and then wry your face from burning yourself on the heat. All your movement’s amused him, weirdly enough.

“You ok?” Peter asked and leaned his hands towards the mug.

“Yeah.” You sighed and handed Peter the mug, before you leaned back in the sofa.

As Peter took hold of the mug and was about to place it on the table, did you say something that almost made him lose the grip.

“What is wrong with me? Why wasn’t I good enough?”

Your words pinned to Peter’s ears as he turned around to face you, first surprised then serious in his expression. You were looking sadly down at the folded hands in your lap, not bothering to hide away the tears that started to fall from your eyes again. Peter sat back, not leaving his eyes from you. Only another sob could be heard from you when Peter took hold of your hand.

“There is nothing wrong with you Y/n.” Peter corrected you with an almost stern voice.

You didn’t move, nor did you look at him. “Don’t lie to me…”

“What? Y/n, I’m for real here. You’re prefect. You’re more than enough!” Peter exclaimed and raised his voice a little, following with placing his second hand on your shoulder.

“I’m not!”

You just shrug him off though and turned your position away from him. He gasped at your quick move but breathed out sadly afterwards. He watched your back as you lightly sobbed to yourself.

“Y/n…”

“I’m so far from perfect Peter. Why would Brad leave me if I was more than enough?” You shook your head. “I love him so much. I thought he loved me back… I thought he was the one, you know?”

Peter didn’t know how to let his words out or what to say, but he knew he wanted to make you smile again. Because seeing you crying over a boy that doesn’t deserve you, makes him angry. Peter really want to just go find him and punch the guy to the moon, but can’t do that of course.

“Y/n.” Peter asked you gently after a minute of silence.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, but you didn’t shrug him of this time. You knew you both needed and wanted his support.

“You may be right.”

You raised a brow at his words and turned around to face him. Was he really agreeing with your shitty words towards yourself? He smiled at you softly and moved his hands to hold both of yours.

“You may not be perfect for him, but you are to me. You’re more than enough to me.” Peter whispered to you, not letting his eyes leave your teary ones. “This isn’t your loss. It’s his. Brad is so so so dumb for not understanding what he lost when he let you go.”

“Oh Peter…” You cried out to him and slammed your arms around his shoulders. “Thank you, for being here.” You sobbed into his shoulder, with still some sad tears, but now mixed with happy ones.

Peter’s hear skipped a beat when you did so and wrapped you tightly against his chest. His cheeks blushed slightly, but he shrugged it off. He was happy to finally make a smile crack on your lips.

“I’ll always be here for you.” Peter sighed. “No matter what.”

“I love you Pete.” You whispered with your head buried into his shoulder.

You were so grateful for having a friend like Peter. Best friend to be exact. What would you do without him? Peter, a guy who will make your heartbreak heal way faster than you could have ever imagined.

“I love you too.” Peter whispered back with his eyes closed, as he slowly brought your body to lay close with his on the sofa.

Your cuddly position would soon cause you both to fall asleep in each other arms, sparking a new feeling in your heart towards Peter. A feeling that would eventually heal his own broken heart.

A feeling in your heart’s that will one day shine equally.

THE END