#Fifteen For A Moment|Spiderman au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

outer-edges · 8 months

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i have a small offering for fans of the spiderman!ellie au. here is 1.6k words of completely unedited fic wherein which joel finally discovers ellie's secret identity.

feat. contrived grocery store displays and an overzealous employee and kiddo rep and really beating the dead 'joel is reluctant to care about ellie' horse in the beginning there.

(fic under the cut. if i ever get around to reading thru + editing this it'll go up on ao3. until then, it will live here)

Joel thought he was done buying snacks he’d never eat just because he had a kid to feed. He thought he was done with the pudding cups and the gushers and the uncrustables.

He looks down at his cart and sighs. It’s stuffed full of all the snacks Spiderwoman wants, alongside multiple tubes of arnica, bandages, frozen peas, neosporin, and everything else he needs to keep the first aid kit stocked.

Apparently, it’s never over.

This is something he’s come to accept about his life. He cares about Spiderwoman. Too much for a kid who’s not his, especially considering he’s never even seen her face. But after two months of this shit, he’s accepted it. He knows he probably doesn’t mean nearly as much to her as she means to him—he’s got to assume she’s got other people in her life, a kid with that much love and warmth to her, it would kill him to think she didn’t—but he’s accepted that too.

It’s okay that he’s now being forced to check out the old fashioned way—cart too full for the express checkout he typically utilizes—but the woman in front of him had to buy up half the store, it seems. It feels like he’s been in this line forever. That’s okay too.

“Oh, come on, I didn’t break shit!” a girl argues, and his gaze is drawn to the front of the store.

There’s a haughty looking asshole kid there—probably no older than fourteen or fifteen—and she looks downright intimidating despite her small stature. There’s a bit of a feral edge to her as she argues with the store employee who’s probably a good foot taller than she is. It could just be his imagination, but there’s something familiar about the girl.

“I saw you, kid,” the employee argues back. “You took down the whole display! Store policy is clear: you break it, you buy it!”

“It’s not my fault your stupid employees don’t know how to stack things,” she fires back. Then, she holds up her plastic bag with a receipt in hand. “This is what I wanted. This is what I paid for. Alright, dude, so just let me go.”

And then it clicks. For some reason, hearing the girl say ‘dude’ with such an empathetic tone made it click. This ain’t just any asshole kid. It's his asshole kid.

Joel quickly gets out of line and butts in on the conversation. “Excuse me, sir. I couldn’t help but overhear—“

The kid—Spiderwoman, Jesus fucking Christ, she’s even younger than he thought she was—looks up at him. Her deep brown eyes are blown wide with surprise and confusion. She tries to smother it quickly, but her face is so goddamn expressive.

“What seems to be the problem here?” Joel finishes, playing a bit dumb as he looks between Spiderwoman and the store clerk.

“It’s okay, sir, this is not your problem,” the employee puts on his best customer service voice and tries to wave Joel away.

“I reckon it might be,” he says. “I know the kid. She’s—uh—she’s my intern. Ain’t that right?”

Spiderwoman blinks up at him for a moment before vigorously nodding. “Yep, that’s right. He’s a very important contractor. And I’m his intern. His unpaid intern.”

“Right,” Joel nods, hoping he doesn’t make too much of a face at her comment. “So, I ask again, what seems to be the problem?”

The employee looks between him and Spiderwoman, clearly not really convinced of their relationship, but he clearly doesn’t care. He’s also just some kid, probably no older than twenty five, and Joel reckons this whole thing is just some corporate policy he’s gotta enforce.

After a beat, the employee just sighs and shakes his head a bit. “Your intern ruined an entire batch of fresh baked donuts.”

Joel snorts and rolls his eyes a bit, though he tone comes across more affectionately empathetic than he intends. “Of course she did. What did you do this time, kiddo?”

The nickname slips past his lips on accident. Words he hasn’t uttered in two decades. Certainly words he’s never used for Spiderwoman before. But in his care to not use any of the spider based nicknames for her, the pet name slipped through.

Spiderwoman clearly notices, eyebrows quirking up just a fraction. Still, she takes it in stride. “They put the blueberry donuts on the bottom, so I went to go grab them, and my—uh—the boxes stuck together, and you know how that goes. Just….vwoop. They all tumbled like Jenga.”

Ah. Joel nods in understanding. He’s seen her accidentally stick to enough things to know what really happened. Can’t really explain that one to a store clerk.

“That Jenga tower was the fresh baked batch that just came out of the oven this morning,” the employee says.

“Alright, look,” Joel starts, “How much did that display cost?”

“One twenty.”

Joel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “Goddamn, one twenty? For donuts?”

“It was over a dozen boxes your intern destroyed.”

Jesus fucking Christ. She’s goddamn lucky he just landed a big contract with a builder out in the suburbs. Forking over one hundred twenty dollars for some fucking donuts. That’s on top of the added groceries and other assorted goods he’s been buying for her.

“Just add it to my bill,” Joel sighs. “And let her take whatever donuts you can salvage. Alright?”

Spiderwoman’s eyes go wide. “Okay, Joel, seriously. You don’t have to do that—” “You ain’t got the money, and clearly someone’s gotta pay the man,” he shoots back.

That’s not what he wants to say. What he wants to say is of course I’m gonna help you outta this bind, kiddo. What the fuck else am I here for?

But that might be a little too real for the both of them. They’ve been dancing around this odd little friendship they’ve struck up, smuggling anything resembling feelings behind innocuous little phrases and actions.

She seems to get what he means regardless, and she just nods. “Okay.”

——

After Joel works out the details with the store clerk, Spiderwoman wordlessly waits by his side as he buys his groceries—and hers too—with a donut box in her arms. They were able to save just under a dozen donuts from the ruined display. They were the ones that spilled all over the table and not the floor. It’s probably ain’t completely sanitary to eat them, but Joel isn’t going to pay over a hundred bucks for donuts and not see a single one of them.

He’s surprised Spiderwoman waits around for him, if he’s being honest. It’s not that he expected her to ditch, necessarily, but it’s two o’clock on a Monday afternoon. She should be in school, or something.

“So,” Spiderwoman starts once they walk out of the grocery store.

(And, god, it’s weird to keep thinking of her as Spiderwoman when he’s looking at that cherubic little face of hers. She’s got these full cheeks and expressive eyes and inklings of acne. She looks every bit of the teenager she is.)

Joel looks at her. “What?”

“How’d you know it was me?” she asks.

“Who says I know you?” he says quickly. “Am I supposed to know who you are? You some kind of celebrity’s daughter or some shit?”

“Joel, c’mon, I’m being serious,” Spiderwoman has to jog a little bit to keep up with his brisk pace, and because she’s almost a foot shorter than him. “What tipped it off?”

He looks down at her as they pull up to his truck, and he sighs. “You wanna know what it was? It was that voice of yours. I got it in my ear all night, seven days a week. ‘Course I’m gonna recognize it”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.”

Joel nods a bit. Something akin to an awkward silence falls over them as Spiderwoman helps him load the groceries back into his truck. There really shouldn’t be any awkward silence. They have spent far too much time together, most of it in some kind of silence or another, to feel uncomfortable around each other. Shit, they spend most nights on the phone for hours at a time.

It’s just…

They’ve never done anything like this. In the daylight. Without the mask separating them. He supposes she’s been seeing his face his whole time, but he hasn’t ever seen her. Shit, he doesn’t even know her name.

Joel watches her in the rearview mirror as she returns the cart, and she jogs back to his truck without looking both ways as she crosses the parking lot. For a second, a once dormant instinct crackles back to life, and he wants to tell her to look before just darting across the parking lot like that. Then, he remembers that psychic sense of hers, and he figures she’s probably fine.

He still wants to tell her anyway.

“I think it’s going to rain later,” Spiderwoman comments as she climbs back into the car. As if this is normal.

In a way, it kind of is.

“What is your name?” Joel asks.

He can’t keep thinking of her as Spiderwoman. He can’t. And it’s stupid to keep acting like she isn’t already completely ingratiate into his life. This whole dancing around her identity thing was an ill conceived attempt to keep up a wall he already smashed down.

“What happened to keeping our histories to ourselves?”

Joel gives her a deadpan. “Kiddo, I think we’re way past that point.”

“Oh, I know,” she nods. “I just wasn’t sure if you were ever going to admit it. My name’s Ellie.”

“Ellie,” he repeats, mulling it over. Good name. “It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Joel.”

“I know, man.”

#mattie posts fic #spiderman!ellie #ellie williams #joel miller #tlou #tlou fic

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5sosfanfictioncatalogue · 7 days

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10k Masterlist

a hero, a liar (ao3) - bellawritess luke/ashton T, 10k

Summary: Ashton’s never met Spiderman. Well, never until right now. Never until Spiderman lands on the pavement in front of Ashton.

AM (ao3) - Migs Michael/Luke E, 10k

Summary: 5 Seconds Of Summer consists of Michael Clifford, Ashton Hemmings and Calum Hood. Luke Hemmings is the youngest Hemmings brother.

and i fell for the lie that i told (ao3) - jbhmalum calum/ashton T, 10k

Summary: “If Calum is being honest — and Calum is always honest — it starts out as something completely innocent.”

In which cashton get annoyed at the paps for always being there on their coffee runs and so they start to fuck with them. And the fans. And basically the entire world. Calum really shouldn’t be that surprised when he starts catching feelings.

OR: 5 times Calum and Ashton pretend to be a couple in front of the cameras, and 1 time they are one, for nobody but themselves.

angels choking on their halos (ao3) - aliciaxadrienne michael/luke M, 10k

Summary: Fame and notoriety mean nothing when the dead are coming back to life. Or; the zombie apocalypse happens at the worst possible time and things go haywire.

are we something to each other (or are we just blowing smoke?) (ao3) - bellawritess michael/ashton, luke/calum T, 10k

Summary: A startled laugh escapes Michael, and he gently pushes against Ashton’s chest, though his hand lingers as if for a moment he considers holding Ashton in place instead. “You’re lame. And you’re not kissing me like that in front of your friends. I’m a respectable fake boyfriend, I don’t believe in gratuitous PDA.”

Come Thru (ao3) - bitchnluke luke/ashton E, 10k

Summary: Luke was used to being a playboy bunny, and he loved the pampered life of a playboy bunny. So yeah, you could say he was a spoilt brat. One day, his daddy tells him he is no longer his daddy, and that he has a new one. That his new daddy was the CEO of playboy bunny, which happened to be the owners nephew, Ashton Irwin. His old daddy tells him to go make Ashton loosen up and have fun.

dancing with the demons (holy spirit, holy spirit) (ao3) - softirwin michael/calum, luke/ashton T, 10k

Summary: “You’re kind of a shitty demon,” he tells Calum, who scowls.

“Fuck you,” he says. “You’re kind of a shitty angel.”

“Oh, dude, I know,” Michael agrees.

angel/demon au

Epoch (ao3) - lourrygum michael/luke E, 10k

Summary: But Michael’s in a band, of course. He hasn’t spent over two months in his own home in over four years and he definitely hasn’t spent up to that amount of time anywhere else. L.A.’s the only place where they’d stuck around long enough to stop getting lost often enough to have to spend fifteen minutes on Google maps figuring out where the hell they were. And even then, they only stayed for around six weeks. It’s not like six weeks isn’t enough to meet someone, but it’s definitely not enough to start to like them and date them and continue to like them enough to put an effort into the long-distance thing.

or, michael’s parents are worried, luke wants to help, calum can’t lie, and ashton knows best

Full of Love I Can’t Control (ao3) - pitypartyof1 calum/ashton E, 10k

Summary: In which Ashton and Calum tend bar at The Ballard Firehouse in Seattle, WA in 1993. Ashton wants to play drums and find his soulmate. Calum just wants to make it big and find a way for Ashton to love him without the lights.

Heart’s Citizen (ao3) - lookingforhope calum/ashton E, 10k

Summary: Being truth to yourself might be scary. Being truth to yourself im front of the world might be even scarier. Ashton helps Calum to do both things.

How I Met Your Father (ao3) - milecgv michael/calum, luke/ashton T, 10k

Summary: Calum promises to tell his kids the story of how he met their Papa Michael.

The one where Daddy Calum tells his little kids a special bedtime story.

It’s Just A Bunch Of Hocus Pocus (ao3) - onceuponatime michael/calum N/R, 10k

Summary: “Ashton’s grin spreads, almost splitting his face in half and Michael starts to feel a little afraid. “I dare you to break in to the old Hood house.”

Michael scoffs, standing from Luke’s lap and popping his spine. Breaking into the old Hood house isn’t that much of a dare. All the kids from Salem do it at least once, and Michael had his turn when he was like, ten. He’s a little disappointed in Ashton; he thought he could do better than that. He’s a little embarrassed for him, too, if he thought that going into that house would phase anyone over the age of twelve. “That’s it?” Michael asks, staring at Ashton with a dead expression.

“Ah, ah,” Ashton says with a glint in his eye. “You gotta break into the Hood house, and you have to video yourself lighting the Black Flame Candle.””

Michael brings Calum back from hell as the result of a Halloween bet

let me love you - @sup3rbloom (haveufoundwhaturlookingfor) luke/ashton T, 10k

Summary: Luke Hemmings is a rockstar with a troubled past. He’s struggling with an alcohol addiction and a career that’s going downhill, but Calum isn’t giving up on him. Calum suggests Luke a fake boyfriend to help keep the bad press away. That’s where Ashton comes in, Ashton who is an embodiment of sunshine. Luke’s hesitant due to his failed past relationships, but he agrees, because he knows this is what he needs to save his career.

Loose Tongue (ao3) - jbhmalum calum/ashton M, 10k

Summary: 5 times calum wears skirts that keep getting shorter on tour and 1 time ashton does something about it

over and under (ao3) - kaleidoscopeminds luke/calum E, 10k

Summary: “We really need to stop doing this.”

“I know.”

Luke says he won’t do this again.

They both agree they won’t do this again when they’re dressed, in Luke’s living room and not his bedroom, when Calum’s about to leave to see his other friends and Luke’s going to the studio to write.

It’s easy to agree not to do it again when Calum’s not touching him.

Something Better (ao3) - notonguexwithbutt michael/luke M, 10k

Summary: “It’s like Luke is trying to say so many things with one look and somehow Michael is understanding them all. Or is he? Because to him it looks like Luke is saying 'push me up against a wall and fuck me’ or maybe it’s something more like 'do something, I dare you.’ Or maybe Michael’s just really turned on by the sight of his best friend covered in sweat and staring at him with dark, dilated eyes.”

Luke gets his wisdom teeth removed and feels quite affectionate and honest in the haze of his anesthesia. Later, he’s embarrassed about the things he confessed to Michael, so Michael does what he can to even out the field.

stretch and flex (ao3) - kaleidoscopeminds luke/calum E, 10k

Summary: What he didn’t really account for was Luke Hemmings, lead singer, being too fucking attractive for his own good.

When he first looked the band up properly Calum thought he was hot, for sure, all blonde curls and wide shoulders and unassuming smile. But he wasn’t really prepared for just how good looking he is up close; how expressive his face is, how nice his voice is, how fucking incredible his ass is. Training him is like torture, watching him get sweaty and breathless, stretching and massaging him, seeing him in a tank top and various other stages of undress.

He'd probably manage it fine, he is somehow a professional, if it weren't for the fact that Calum’s pretty sure Luke is actually starting to rile him up on purpose, wearing increasingly ripped or tiny shirts, and often asking Calum to correct his form for him when Calum’s almost positive he knows exactly how he should be performing the exercise.

He’s almost constantly flustered by this man. And it’s starting to make him shit at his job.

The Day the World Ended (ao3) - insomniacwriter17 ot4 T, 10k

Summary: “Reports state that people are experiencing incredibly high fevers, intense pain all over the body, and a state of delirium. Government officials have issued a warning: if you feel ill, seek medical attention immediately. If you do not feel ill, stay inside if at all possible and make sure to wash your hands often.”

wait for me in the sky (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum T, 10k

Summary: Calum and Luke sit next to each other on a long flight.

you’ve got stars, they’re in your eyes (ao3) - lifewasradical luke/calum T, 10k

Summary: Calum leaves 5 Seconds of Summer.

#5sosfanfictioncatalogue #5sos fanfic #masterlists #5sos #5 seconds of summer

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admiral-alby · 3 years

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bob fic recs galore

here’s the fruits of my labour. a working fic rec master-post containing multiple bob ships and many, many amazing fics. the writers in this fandom are absolutely incredible and their talent astounds me every time I read a new fic. all the kudos to y’all. keep on keeping on!

this is a long post. recs and some general notes are under the cut :)

(04/13/21) I’ll do my best to keep this list updated... or I’ll make a part 2 depending on length. if anyone has any recs that are not already listed in this post, please please message me! this is no way an exhaustive list and I’m sure I missed some fantastic fics out there - to get started I mostly just plucked from my bookmarks. I’d be happy to add on new fics for ANY pairing, rare-pairs included. I don’t really have much for rare-pairs in this rec because I haven’t read much yet but that will change soon when I have some more time on my hands to get into them :)

if you are an author on this list and you would like your work removed from it, please just message me. no explanation necessary I will take it off asap.

I’ll make the disclaimer that while I tried to include some general information about each fic, I did not include tags/warnings. so if you choose a fic, read the tags and proceed at your own discretion.

@capsparkyspeirs you’re a lovely human being and this is probably not what you were imagining when I said I’d be happy to rec some fics for you. I admit it got a little out of hand but there’s so many great fics out there I couldn’t stand to choose just a couple to send your way... so you get them all! you inspired me to do this, so this is for you and anyone else who wants to read some great fics but doesn’t know where to start <3

WINNIX (RICHARD WINTERS/LEWIS NIXON)

Long Ago and Far Away (Canon Winnix) by churchkey (Series) Rated T-E / Canon Era / 18013 Words (Total) / 4 Parts / Not Complete

Summary: “A few scenes exploring how Dick and Lew became the timeless cosmic lovers they were born to be.“

*Each part can be read as a stand-alone!

It Happened One Night by raquelelpillo Rated M / Groundhog Day AU / 7704 Words / Complete

Summary: “ Nixon gets the chance to do the day before the big jump over and over and over (or, Every Fandom Needs Groundhog's Day Fic).”

Finding Our Way in the Dark by rilla Rated E / Canon Era / Soulmate AU / 8477 Words / Complete

Summary: “After Dick and Lew share their first kiss in Austria, they open their eyes to find a golden thread binding their wrists together.“

Mutual by miss_grey Rated G / Canon Era / 2105 Words / Complete

Summary: “Dick couldn’t help wondering to himself when exactly Nix had decided that Dick’s personal space had become their mutual space.“

Let Me Be Close by armyofbees Rated G / Canon Era (Post-War) / 8679 Words / Complete

Summary: “Five things Nix loves about Dick, and one thing Dick loves about Nix.Or,The thing about Nix, Dick is beginning to learn, is that he doesn’t love in halves. Nix loves with everything in him, and sometimes that means moving to the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania for Dick. Sometimes it means making spaghetti with him because Dick came to New Jersey and planted tomatoes, of all things. Sometimes it means telling without saying.”

Let’s Start the New Year Right by slightlytookish Rated G / Canon Era (Post-War) / 10523 Words / Complete

Summary: “Nix had always been able to pick Dick out of a crowd, even when he was lying on his belly in the dirt two hundred yards away, squinting through binoculars at an entire company of men wearing identical uniforms. It was easier to spot him in the crush of people inside Penn Station, even out of the familiar uniform: the same tall figure, the same bright hair, the same way he always seemed to find Nix just as easily and turn towards him, like an arrow on a compass.”

Lancaster County by raquelelpillo Rated T / AU / 31500 Words / 17 Chapters / Complete

Summary: “Nix is born later. Dick is there. (AU). Set in the summer of 1942 in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.”

**It is part of a series with the other works being small ‘extras’ set through the story. This is the main work. It ends a bit ambiguously.

SPEIRTON (RONALD SPEIRS/CARWOOD LIPTON)

The Desolate House by Howling_Harpy Rated E / Canon Era (Post-War) / 26672 Words / Complete

Summary: “It's been fifteen years since Carwood has last seen or spoken to Speirs when they reunite suddenly at an Easy Company reunion and have both recently relocated back to the US. Carwood has promised to his mother to finish packing and cleaning the family's boarding house that's about to be put up for sale, and on a whim invites Speirs to help him. He didn't expect him to actually show up.”

and you on my mind by seabright Rated E / Canon Era (Post-War) / 11081 Words / Complete

Summary: “’You say that you don’t want any of Easy to know that you’re in Boston but you give me your address.’ Following a relationship through the end of the war and beyond.”

Of Soldiers and Secrets by nanuk_dain Rated E / Canon Era / 62988 Words / 26 Chapters / Complete

Summary: “A series of moments in the life of the Easy men, from Foy until after the war, focussing on the development of the relationship of Carwood Lipton and Ronald Speirs.”

Erasure by Howling_Harpy Rated M / Canon Era (Post-War) / 15255 Words / Complete

Summary: “Carwood takes time off from work to visit his mother to get away from his lonely life in Boston. Ron is deployed to Korea and has been for a long while, and after spending a year alone and even longer lying to everyone, Carwood is not sure he wants to live like this anymore.”

Fluences by masongirl (Series) Rated T-M / Canon Era / Soulmates AU / 12818 Words (Total) / 5 Works / Complete

Summary: “ Soulmate AU in which soulmates can sense each other's emotions if they are close enough.”

**Mainly Speirton centric. Part 2 is Winnix & Part 3 is Shifty/Tab.

A Thousand Kisses by Arwen88 Rated T / Canon Era / 1993 Words / Complete

Summary: “ A late night in Hardigny brings Carwood to the room where Ron is dealing with paperwork, but even with a comfortable bed, he can’t find his peace. Late night chats have Ron showing a side of himself that Carwood had not expected.”

stop the world by languageofthebirds Rated T / Canon Era / 3001 Words / Complete

Summary: “The way his hair fell in mussed waves over his forehead made Carwood want to reach out and run his fingers through it. He was sin personified, in that moment.”

**Did I throw in a shameless self promo? Sure did.

WEBGOTT (JOSEPH LIEBGOTT/DAVID WEBSTER)

rivers always reach the sea by bitchbutter (Series) Rated E / Canon Era / 40790 Words (Total) / 2 Works / Not Complete / Last Updated March 17, 2021

Part 1 Summary: “Joe breaks things off with Web in Austria. Of course, nothing with them is ever that simple.“

Part 2 Summary: “The end of the war could be the end of a lot of things. If Joe could let it be.“

if i know you at all, i know you’ve gone too far by starblessed Rated T / Canon Era / 2654 Words / Complete

Summary: “How many stars d’you think there are, Web?” Joe asks after a moment.David has no damned clue. “A lot,” he answers confidently. “Millions.”“Millions,” echoes Joe. The glittering stars are reflected in his eyes, like black pits sending each beam of light back outward. It’s almost hypnotizing, the way they flicker. If he stares too long, David knows he will get lost in them... and that doesn't seem like the worst way to go.”

Teller of Tales; Song of Songs by thedastardly Rated E / Canon Era (Post War) / 8352 Words / Complete

Summary: “He hopes that he dreams about the mountaintop tonight. He isn’t in the mood to dream of the water, the shore, the everything after, again.”

the only noise beating out is ours by lakehymn Rated M / Canon Era (Post-War) / 3470 Words / Complete

Summary: “Over the next couple weeks, Webster realizes that Liebgott has effortlessly invaded every corner of his life. Even on the days when he barely sees Liebgott at all, he can always find comic books or packs of cigarettes lying around somewhere. It’s almost disconcerting how ordinary it’s beginning to feel to stumble upon someone else’s belongings in his own house.”

push and pull by LT_Aldo_Raine

Rated T / Modern AU / 4115 Words / Complete

Summary: ““got hands like an ocean, push you out, pull you back in” And David Webster never could resist the ocean. OR: Webster snorted, a sardonic sound that echoed across the hotel room. “You don’t know the first thing about what I need.””

hang in there, baby by rilla Rated M / Modern AU / 3116 Words / Complete

Summary: “Written for the Kisstober prompt 'upside down Spiderman kisses'. '“I don’t know what I was expecting when I asked you what your top fantasy is,” Web says, “but it wasn’t this."'”

In His Wildest Dreams by Impala_Chick Rated E / Canon Era / Dream Sharing AU / 3891 Words / Complete

Summary: “While David is in the hospital, he starts sharing dreams with Liebgott.“

Black Ink on Some Blue Lines by thelastfig Rated E / Canon Era & Post War / 10185 Words / Complete

Summary: “It’s been sixteen years since the letter was written, but it never found its way to the one it was intended for. The thing about secrets is they eat away at you, not all at once but slowly over the years, and you begin to wonder, to play out the what if scenarios in your mind. Instead, David buried it away and pretended like it never existed. He should have killed it, he thinks to himself, not buried it while it still had breath in its lungs. In which David remembers his evolving relationship with Joe over the course of the war and decides to deliver a letter.”

LUZTOYE (GEORGE LUZ/JOSEPH TOYE)

The best laid plans by masongirl (Series) Rated G-E / Modern AU / 52652 Words (Total) / 15 Parts / Complete

Summary: “Modern AU in which Joe and George find each other as college students and build a life together.“

each and every day (of the year) by bruce_the_shark Rated M / Modern AU / 21630 Words / 2 Chapters / Complete

Summary: “Joe grins, lifts his hand from George’s hip to grip him by the chin, twists his face around to catch his lips in a bruising kiss. George relishes in it, likes how the taste of Joe’s preferred brand of liquor mixes with the taste of his own on his tongue. He grins against Joe’s lips, knows it’s going to be a good year.”

Babysitting and Other Rationales by aces_low Rated T / Modern AU / 3267 Words / Complete

Summary: “George Luz is a god damn saint, or at least some kind of kid whisperer. And Joe's just trying to keep his head on straight.”

who let the dogs in? by starblessed Rated T / Modern AU / 1869 Words / Complete

Summary: ““And he heard me shouting and I guess it inspired him or something, cause he full-on charged at me, Joe, and before I could even slam the door, he was just —“ George cuts off with an incoherent noise, gesturing grandly to their front door. “In! And then he was running, and sniffing everything, and exploring our shit, and he peed —““Not on my damn couch,” Joe growls.“No, on the nice carpet. Marking his territory, y’know? Except it’s our territory, but I guess it’s his now, because he won’t freakin’ leave.”

BABEROE (EDWARD HEFFRON/EUGENE ROE)

Call me sweetheart, please? by mariamegale (Series) Rated G-E / Modern AU / 95865 Words (Total) / 12 Works / Complete

Summary: “A not-relationship in the making.”

**Each part could be read as a standalone I suppose... But it’s so worth it to read the whole series!

between the walls by CountlessStars Rated M / Canon Era (Post-War) / 2275 Words / Complete

Summary: “ Eugene decides to paint his living room. It should be easy, it really should, but it doesn't go as planned (in more ways than one).”

Walking Wounded by papersky_pencilstars Rated G / Canon Era / Magic AU / 3501 Words / Complete

Summary: “Prompt: Canon-era; Either Gene or Babe have magic, or both. Maybe magic is known or maybe they need to hide it.”

JOHNNY MARTIN/BULL RANDLEMAN

they don’t know about the up all nights (they don’t know I’ve waited all my life) by PotofCoffee Rated T / Canon Era / 22010 Words / 3 Chapters / Complete

Summary: “ Johnny and Bull throughout the war, in a slow meandering dance you might just call love.”

All My Love to Give by Muccamukk Rated E / Canon Era / 8852 Words / Complete

Summary: “ Johnny wants to screw around to pass the time. Bull wants to show Johnny how he feels without having to risk saying it”

The Red String by Arwen88 Rated M / Canon Era / Soulmates AU / 1834 Words / Complete

Summary: “He had to wrench his gaze away from the sickening sight, from the machine that was probably moments away from killing his soulmate. He would’ve thrown himself under that tank if that meant saving his lover, but he couldn’t do it. He had to take care of his men, and so he forced himself to stop looking, to order his men to retreat, to see that they did what he was screaming at them.“

Over Where You Began Muccamukk Rated E / Canon Era / 2949 Words / Complete

Summary: “ The way Bull saw it, Johnny was mad at him now, and Bull had no idea what he'd done wrong. Maybe it was better to just let it lie, let Johnny come out of whatever angry mood he was in on his own, instead of kicking an ant's nest.”

Simple as a Glass of Chocolate by ThrillingDetectiveTales Rated E / Canon Era / 2600 Words / Complete

Summary: ““It was supposed to be syrup,” Johnny muttered darkly. “Says right there on the can!”“Reckon it started out that way,” Bull shrugged, biting his lip against a smile when Johnny narrowed a glare over his shoulder.(In which Johnny and Bull try to sweeten up their sex life and it doesn't go exactly as planned.)”

CHUCK GRANT/RONALD SPEIRS

to Babel, in ruins by captainkilly Rated T / Canon Era (Post-War) / 5114 Words / Complete

Summary: “Chuck knows recovery isn't a linear event. Knows there are times when words will leave him and the night will place him back beneath the dirt. Knows there are things he just can't speak about.Captain Speirs hears him anyway.”

pulse by captainkilly Rated T / Canon Era / 4706 Words / Complete

Summary: “ Ron Speirs knows how to kill. Knows how to hurt, how to twist, how to maim. He doesn't think he's figured out how to love, not really, not where it counts the most, but the touches he reserves for Chuck Grant beg to differ.. “

AUTHORS

there are so many authors on this list that have written tons of amazing works for one or multiple pairings. as much as I would have loved to, I couldn’t rec all of their works... I had a hard enough time keeping it down to 3 or less works from the same author! similar to fics, I’ve only linked authors that I am familiar with/know have written multiple fics, so feel free to send me more people to add to the list :)

churchkey - is a sweetheart. has multiple amazing winnix works. she has recently gotten into super rarepair toye/malarkey. godspeed I’ll see you there when I read those fics.

ThrillingDetectiveTales - writes for multiple pairings. all of their works are fantastic! every time I see their name as the author I go !! and know it’s going to be good.

Howling_Harpy - has written so many fics. many different pairings. lots of speirton. they’ve ripped my heart out and made me cry but then gently kissed my forehead and put my heart back. I think that’s praise of the highest order.

masongirl - another fantastic author who has written so many amazing fics. tons of speirton and other ships too. also has made me cry and then quietly wiped my tears away.

mariamegale - baberoe queen. that’s all I have to say. I was tempted to just rec all her baberoe fics. check them out!

Muccamukk - another multi ship, multi works writer. i had a hard time only choosing a few of their fics to rec. they’ve got so much to offer!

Impala_Chick - writes lots of great webgott and other pairings too!

captainkilly - if i could rec all her fics I would. there’s some rarepair pieces that are fantastic. I didn’t list it here because it’s more of a character centric piece with an OFC and a little bit of ron/chuck dashed in mostly at the end, but read her form & void series. seriously. read it. I have nothing else to say because her work speaks for itself.

Arwen88 - another writer for multiple pairings with multiple works! love to see it. some great rarepair stuff and also fantastic popular pairings.

LT_Aldo_Raine - love their work! they write for multiple pairings.

198 notes · View notes

marvelsswansong · 4 years

Text

Peach Lipgloss

Summary: He’s a sophmore at MIT who has hung up his superhero suit for university. She’s a well known killer with the power to seduce and manipulate anyone she pleases. Of course the universe would make them soulmates.

Words: 6.1K

Tags: soulmate au (soulmates can’t hurt each other), forbidden love (kinda), college!Peter, femmefatale!reader. Violence, heavy sexual themes, proceed with caution.

a/n: REPOST since first one didn’t show up in tags :( sorry to those who already read this 4 hours ago

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

Massachusetts, USA

Quickly shoving his crinkled notes into his bag, Peter was the first person to be out of the classroom the moment Theoretical Physics was done and over with. Reaching for the zipper as he made his way out the marbled doors, he paused at the sight of the crumpled red and black fabric in his bag.

He didn’t know why he still carried his spiderman suit with him, considering the vow he’d made to pack it away along with his hero life the moment he arrived at MIT. But the lingering sense of danger and doubt never left him so he could never quite part with it, so he always kept the suit and extra shooters in a concealed compartment in his backpack.

He never knew when he’d need it, he reasoned.

Crossing the large green lawn, he breathed in the earthy air, staring up at the clear blue sky. Fall was starting to roll into the state of Massachusetts, the trees lining the sidewalk were orange and red, and the lawn of daffodils under the library building had begun to bloom. He greeted a group of people he recognized from his engineering class as he crossed over to the south-side of the campus, passing by a row of cluttered dorms. He checked his wristwatch- the one May had gifted him before he left for university- still 10 minutes left until class started.

He slipped into the empty classroom and sat on the first row of chairs when his cellphone started ringing. Peter frowned, his mind failing to think of who would need to speak to him during school hours. He unlocked it to see Tony’s name appear on the screen, a sight only reserved for emergencies.

“We’ll only call you if we can’t do it without you.” his mentor had said, the day before Peter had left for MIT.

“Hello?” Peter answered quietly, as a few students began to fill into the room.

“How quickly can you come to Santorini?”

Tony sounded exhausted on the other side of the phone. Peter nervously chewed on his lip, not liking where this conversation was going.

“With all due respect, Mr.Stark, I can’t just drop everything right now and fly to Greece. I have-”

“Nuclear Science and Engineering right now, I know. I also know you have finals in a month but that’s nothing I can’t call in a favour for. I happen to be good friends with the Dean and the Provost of MIT.”

More people began filling the room as the professor walked in, forcing Peter to cover his phone with his hand and whisper, turning away from the crowd.

“I get that, but, I’m taking a break from the whole hero business. I want to focus on university and having a life without risking it every few days, you know?”

“And I agree that you should have all those things. Come on, Peter. I haven’t called you for a mission for the first year and a half of your university. I meant what I said when I told you we’d only call you if we literally couldn’t do it without you. I’m begging you, kid.”

Peter could imagine Tony pinching the bridge of his nose, pacing around the room in frustration while trying to convince Peter. He was reluctant, but the desperation in Tony’s voice didn’t go unnoticed and his hands were moving faster than his brain. Packing his things back up, he quietly exited the classroom and sighed into the phone.

“Okay, I’ll come.”

“Great. Don’t worry about your classes or your exams, I’ll make sure it’s handled. Pack enough for two weeks. I’m sending you a private jet to your nearest airport in two hours. See you then.”

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

Santorini, Greece

Peter felt like he was melting under the hot Grecian sun, the sticky humid air mixing with the ocean breeze blowing in from the southwest. He adjusted his sunglasses, the sweat causing it to slide down the bridge of his nose repeatedly, his skin smelling of an odd combination of aftershave and sunscreen. It felt strange, to say the least, to go from spending months in grey sweatpants and thick burgundy hoodies in the freezing cold weather of Cambridge to now being dressed down in a red Hawaii shirt and grey khakis in the sunny island of Santorini.

“You okay, Peter?” Steve called out from behind him, wearing a not so obvious disguise of a baseball cap paired with white rimmed sunglasses. That said, they needed to ‘blend in’, as Tony put in, and Peter had to admit- among the crowds, they just looked like a group of innocent American tourists. And not a band of superheroes, trying to catch a super-villain in her acts.

“I’m fine, just… thirsty.” he replied, swallowing thickly.

“I’ll get you some water.”

Steve told Peter to stay put and disappeared into a nearby path lined with shops, leaving the young boy in the middle of the cobblestone street. The rest of the team were scattered across the island in an attempt to catch her, an infamous killer with no name, no trace. Just a pretty face and a signature carving of a heart on her victim’s bodies. He’d gotten the information dump on the plane ride here, in which Maria drilled the information into his head.

“This is all the information we’ve gathered on her so far.” her tone was somber as she flicked over a thin manila folder to him, which he opened with a flick of his thumb before holding up the piece of paper.

“It’s one page.”

She bit her lip, frustrated.

“We’ve been unsuccessful in gathering much information about her. What we have on her is ambiguous at best, except a few things: she’s about 20, she’s a master seductress, able to seduce anyone into carrying out her commands. She kills her prey and carves a heart onto their bodies. And the only way to avoid her powers is to avoid looking into her eyes.”

“Is there even a photo of what she looks like?” he questioned, his curiosity piqued.

“A few we’ve managed to piece together from some security cameras.”

She tossed him a few pictures onto his lap, each varying in quality. From the set, however, he could make out that she had (h/c) hair, a light/dark/middle skin-tone, and was of a short/regular/tall stature. It looked like she was wearing a sparkly silver dress in the first photo, which was taken on the side of a street in Milan, then a pink checkered tank top and matching skirt in the second one, taken in Paris, and an over-sized black hoodie with black heels on a bridge in London.

The photos were either too dark or taken too far away to really catch her face, but just by looking at these photos he could tell- she was beautiful. Stunning, even. Even without powers he was sure she could seduce anyone she liked.

“Thing is, she always gets away right before we can catch her. SHIELD has been onto her for a while but no matter who we send, no matter how discreet, low level or which gender… they end up dead or return back dazed with no memory of what happened.”

Peter raised his eyebrow.

“Is that a part of it?”

Maria sighed..

“Depends. Sometimes she doesn’t kill the people she uses her powers on and the victims just end of having a dazed, hazy feeling for a few hours. They then have a hard time remembering what exactly happened, making our job infinitely harder.”

An uneasy silence filled the air, as Peter shifted in his seat. This sounded like the hardest mission yet.

“So why am I needed?”

“Your supernatural senses allow you to sense any immediate danger or harm nearby you, regardless of sight, right? So we’re hoping that you’re able to fight and capture her without ever being under her influence, by closing your eyes and relying on your ‘spidey senses’ instead. Do you still have your web shooters on you?”

He nodded.

“If you find her, web her to her surroundings, turn around so you’re not looking into her eyes, then call us over. She can’t influence all of us at once, so that’d give us an advantage and plenty of time to sedate her and bring her over.”

The web shooter concealed underneath his wrist watch was starting to itch, breaking the somewhat vacational bliss he was feeling from sitting on the edge of the white wall and watching the waves go by. Checking the time with a flick of his wrist, it dawned on him that Steve had disappeared to get him some water for a bit too long. Fifteen minutes to be exact.

What was going on?

He slipped into the alleyway where Steve disappeared, wandering straightforward rather aimlessly until he caught sight of the familiar blonde hair a few feet away. Except, his back was turned towards Peter as he lounged on a chair on the outskirts of a cafe, and he was talking to someone he didn’t recognize. Adrenaline kicked in, forcing Peter to duck behind a nearby corner before his eyes fell on the woman Steve was talking to.

It was her.

The woman in the photos.

And fuck, you were stunning. You weren’t wearing anything particularly fancy, just a white lacy sundress and pink pastel flats, but every crevice of the fabric clung to your skin glowing in the caramel sunlight, making the modest piece somehow sensual and teasing. Sitting with one leg crossed over the other he felt as if you were teasing any wandering gaze to land upon your skin, calling out with the same lull as a siren’s. Your lips were painted glossy pink and Peter realized that your eyes were glowing the same shade, a glittery candy floss pink that reflected in Steve’s previously blue orbs.

“So what brings you here, soldier?” you questioned, toying with the soldier.

Your voice dripped like sweet honey and wrapped around your surroundings like a vice.

“On a mission to bring you in.” Peter noted that Steve’s voice was suddenly robotic and eerily not like him.

You pursed your lips, crossing your arms.

“So SHIELD is still after me, huh? You know, even HYDRA was less insisting.”

Wrapping your hand around Steve’s arm, you brought him closer towards you as you felt the cold steel surface of your knife shift underneath your dress, the blade itching to dig into fresh skin.

“I should kill you, you know. You and the Avengers just keep on coming after me and I’m getting tired of playing around…” you drawled, quiet for no one else to hear you except for Peter with his superhero senses.

Peter could feel his heart pound in his chest, as Steve stood motionless while you took out the large sharp blade and started trailing it down Steve’s leg, hidden from plain sight, with not enough pressure to break the skin just yet. Peter quickly took out his phone and alerted Tony of his current location, as you paid for the meal and led Steve towards a dark alleyway, surely to dispose of the super soldier.

Tony’s reply was immediate.

‘Got it. Stay put. Don’t interfere unless you have to.’

Crouching back down, Peter quickly took off his backpack and changed into his suit, before slowly trailing behind you.

The flat side of the blade was now underneath Steve’s throat, right where it could slice through the jugular veins and kill him. His pink hooded eyes were still looking at you as you smiled, leaning in and leaving a soft kiss on his lips.

“Sad… you were one of my favorites.”

You raised your blade in the air, ready to slash his throat, when a flash of white passed by and knocked the blade out of your hand. Peter quickly ran out, one hand over his eyes and the other outstretched to pull Steve backwards and out of harm’s way.

“S-stay back.” he muttered, the lack of vision plus the adrenaline adding to his anxiety. Your eyes widened upon seeing the red and black hero standing in front of you, in Greece, of all places.

This was certainly an interesting development.

“Now why would I do that?” you asked, pulling a gun out of your thigh holster and aiming it towards him.

“Because the rest are coming.” he replied, thankful that is voice was no longer shaking.

Your eyes widened at the response before you pouted, trailing your bottom lip dangerously with your tongue.

“In that case… Captain-”

Steve stood right up straight at the sound of your voice, pushing Peter backwards.

“Take him out for me, would you?”

And before Peter could do or say anything, Steve swung his fist in his direction, forcing Peter to open his eyes and jump back. By the time he looked at where you were standing before you were gone, the realization sticking in his mind for a brief moment before Steve tried to knock him back down again.

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

Tokyo, Japan

A few days after the disaster in Santorini (Steve still wouldn’t look him in the eye after he snapped out of his violent trance three hours later when the effect wore off), the team had gotten word that she was spotted out and about in Japan. And that led Peter here, standing in the middle of a busy street crossing, surrounded by big flashing billboards and tall glass skyscrapers. He adjusted his light rimmed glasses- they had a tiny microscopic camera attached to the lens that could record everything- as he shoved through the busy crowd, the address written in the note inside his coat pocket replaying in his head.

After a few unsuccessful conversations with locals who were passing by, he was lucky enough to run into someone who spoke moderate English. She gave him an odd look when he handed over the piece of paper and she typed in the address onto her phone, but nonetheless pointed him in the right direction. He thanked her before walking east, the loud noise of scurrying feet and the whirring of cars driving by blocking his thoughts.

“Peter? Can you hear me?” Tony’s voice rang out through his earpiece, causing Peter to discreetly adjust it. After the not so successful attempt last time to capture her, the team had advised a new plan- Peter would go in alone without his suit but with just his web shooters, pretending to be just another patron at the club, and talk to her discreetly before trapping her with his web before the others could take her in.

He was just lucky his face was concealed the first time they met.

“Yes. I’m almost at the address you gave me. It’s a club, right?”

There was a momentary pause.

“Yeah, it’s a club. Point is, be careful. We’ll be watching your every move and we can hear everything that’s going on, so don’t worry.”

“I’ll be cautious.”

The building that matched the address was a modestly sized glass building with steel doors and a menacing looking bodyguard outside, who asked him for his ID in perfect English. After giving the man his school ID he was let inside where a skimpily clad woman asked him for his coat, the little blue bikini number leaving little to the imagination. His face felt hot and his throat tightened when he hastily took off his coat and gave it away to the woman, as the realization settled in.

He wasn’t in just any club.

He was in a stripclub.

Swallowing his embarrassment the best he could, he quietly went through the next set of glass doors, which led out to a dim hallway lit up by bright pink LED lights. A slew of men and a couple of women sat around the bar and near the light up stages, where several girls in tight dresses twirled around the pole set to a sensual song. It was hard to make out the faces under the dim blue lighting, so he opted to blend in by walking to the bar in the middle and ordering a drink. He tried to look anywhere but where the scantily clad women were and stared at a nearby TV screen instead, when a familiar voice interrupted his train of thought.

“Strawberry Daiquiri, please.”

You were facing straight forward, thus allowing Peter to catch a quick glance at you. You sensed a set of eyes on your figure and looked back, only to see Peter blushing and looking down at his lap to avert his gaze. Sliding over a few seats, you leaned against the bar table, the slit on your mini skirt exposing your upper thigh.

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” you commented slyly, drinking in the sight of him. He was younger than most of your prey- you preferred to go for men who were older than you- but he looked just as good as the others. Tousled brown curls, defined muscles flexing underneath his white polo shirt, a shy demeanor… He was adorable.

“S-sorry.” he murmured, still not looking into your eyes. You figured he was nervous and chuckled, taking a slow slip of your sugary drink.

“It’s alright… you’re not a part of this usual crowd, are you?”

“Good. Keep on talking to her to distract her. We’re on our way.” Tony spoke in Peter’s ear. He regained his confidence to look up for a brief moment to snatch his drink off the table, the strong taste of whiskey burning his throat.

“What makes you say that?” he asked quietly, swirling his drink with his straw. You leaned closer, the sweet draft of your vanilla and honeycomb lotion drifting over him as you smirked.

“Well, for starters, you’re not looking at any of the strippers here. And two, you’re not even looking at me.”

He needed an excuse, so he blurted out the first thing that came into his mind.

“Sorry, I just, uh, I have a hard time looking at pretty girls.”

You were caught off guard by that comment, and it showed for a brief moment on your face. You were used to men calling you a slew of names, but calling you pretty? In such a sincere way? While blushing? This was new. A new urge surged through your veins as you placed your hand on his lap, rubbing his thigh.

“Then what’d you say we go somewhere more private? Like the VIP Lounge? You can look at me all you want then.”

He nodded shyly and allowed you to drag him to the back area of the club, where you slipped a security guard five hundred dollars to let you pass the velvet rope with him behind you. There was no one else in sight, just the two of them and the soft cushiony sofa lining the walls. His throat felt dry as you pushed him down onto the seat, your body straddling his as you climbed onto his lap.

“So-”

A sharp ringing noise cried out in his ear, causing Peter to yelp in pain and rip out the earpiece in reflex. You quickly put two and two together before ripping off his glasses and grabbing his chin to force him to look at you, the brief moment of shock and confusion on his face enough time for you to put him under your trance. The tension left his body as his eyes turned pastel pink, allowing you to crawl off his lap and crush the earpiece under your heels. You did the same to the glasses, just for good measure, before taking out the wallet from his jeans.

You examined the cards inside, starting with the ID cards. Name: Peter Parker. Sophomore at MIT. A Stark Tower entry pass?

You scowled, tossing the wallet to the side. That probably meant they were on their way right now. Taking out a four inch blade from your bra, you decided you needed to send them a message. Pushing his head to the side, you were ready to slice his throat, the tip of your blade against his skin, and-

Nothing.

Your hand stayed frozen mid-air, your brain screaming at your body to carry on with the action but your body remained frozen. Bringing your hand back down, you tried again, this time a stab to the heart. But you physically couldn’t harm him, no matter the angle at which you tried.

“Fuck.”

Letting out a shaky breath, you dropped the blade in horror and stepped backwards, the realization settling in your gut. If you couldn’t kill him, that meant…

The thought horrified you to no end, the kind of immediate horror that made you want to throw up onto the floor, the previously loud pounding of the music drowned to the background as the walls began to close in on you. Blinking away your tears, you commanded Peter to stay sitting in his room before grabbing your coat and exiting the room, being able to find a nearby window that you could jump down from. Your feet met the ground as you wrapped the coat closer to your body, your heels clicked against the pavement as you quickly hired a cab back to your mansion.

This was bad.

So, so bad.

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

New York, USA

When Peter awoke from his trance he was lying down on a soft bed with a weighted blanket in what seemed like the hospital wing of Stark Tower, with streaks of sunlight streaming in through the gaps in the window. His memory felt foggy, the last thing he remembered was being terrified when the earpiece malfunctioned and your eyes turned bright pink with anger. His thoughts were interrupted when Bruce walked into the room, a soft smile on his face.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, handing over a glass of water. Peter accepted it, muttering a quiet thank you.

“Strange… What happened?”

The doctor sighed, biting his lower lip.

“We’re not sure. She crushed the glasses we gave you right after she found out you had an earpiece in, but when we entered the room, you were left unharmed, just sitting on the sofa.”

“Unharmed? I thought she liked to kill all her prey. Or at the very least, hurt them in some way.”

Bruce nodded, scribbling something onto his notepad.

“That’s the thing. We have no clue why you were the odd exception. Director Fury has been wracking his brain for the past seven hours trying to figure out why she spared you.”

A momentary silence passed by, as Peter looked up at the man with an unsure gaze.

“What now?” he asked, the thoughts of MIT and returning to Cambridge still in his mind.

“We’re going to try to monitor her route for a little longer and devise a new plan. I know Tony said you only needed two weeks off but Fury insists that you’re the key to capturing her and wants you to stay on for at least another week.”

Peter sighed, giving in.

“I guess that’s fine. I mean, what choice do I really have?”

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

Milan, Italy

It’d been a solid week since you last killed a man.

A whole seven days.

You were sure the Avengers were noticing your absence, trying to understand just why you’d spared one of their precious heroes and then went dark for a whole week afterwards. Just thinking back on that night made your stomach turn, the way adrenaline pumped through your veins as you were prepared to kill your soulmate.

For the first time in a while, you were disgusted with yourself. You had almost killed your soulmate, and in another universe where you could harm him, he would’ve been dead at your hands. It was getting harder and harder to remember why you’d started this life as you lounged in a private pool in Milan, the mansion overlooking a dark green forest.

It was in a dimly lit facility, a few hundred miles from here, that had turned you into this force of nature. Having lost your parents to a car accident at a young age, you were starved and anxious for any sort of money when you overheard that a scientist was offering hundreds of thousands of dollars to a woman who was willing to be his test subject. He was seductive, older, and richer. You fell for his promises and signed your life away at the age of 15.

Five months of torture later, you awoke to see that your eyes were glowing pink. When you made eye contact with a security guard nearby he wordlessly opened the prison door for you, and shot the scientist who experimented on you right on the spot. Grabbing the keys from the man’s lab coat, you pulled out the file filled with the names of the investors from all over the world who’d donated to help this man corrupt and abuse you.

And apparently, you weren’t his first test subject.

You grabbed his wallet on the way out and hopped into a car parked on the sidewalk of a gas station, and never looked back since then. You were young and scared, but hungry for revenge. You’d make sure those men would pay, and any other man who would try to take advantage of young girls, for that matter.

Killing was the only option.

Perhaps you’d lost your morality along the way, you reasoned. If you had any, in the first place. What started out as a semi-respectable revenge killing spree had somehow morphed into an exhilarating repeated cycle of seduction, murder and money. A disgusting sensation was settling in- perhaps guilt- as you huffed and threw away your sunglasses to the side.

No, you were doing the right thing. You knew the things that the Avengers believed above you- dangerous, homicidal, killer of innocent men. You laughed at that notion- as if most of your victims weren’t assholes in some ways, or didn’t treat you like an animal to be hunted down and ravaged. Sharpening your knife on the kitchen counter, you breathed in and out slowly, calming yourself down. This whole soulmate business was really messing with your head.

You needed a fresh new kill to settle your mind.

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

London, UK

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Tony asked Peter for what felt like the thousandth time of that night, anxiety gnawing in his gut. In reality, there wasn’t much left to be discussed- Fury had insisted Peter stay on this project till the moment of your capture, even though at this point Tony had had enough of keeping Peter away from his education and was actually fighting for Peter’s right to return to university. But Peter felt a sort of curiosity and a pull to you that he couldn’t explain, so he found himself insisting on going on this mission.

They’d been able to finally find a link amongst the men you would target- well, at least a somewhat common link. A large majority of them happened to be investors in an Italian company that specialized in biochemical engineering, and it so happened that a handful of them were meeting in an exclusive rooftop party in London- making the chances of your appearance higher than ever.

“Remember, this time, don’t even hesitate. The moment you see her, shoot the tranquilizer in her direction so we can subdue her.” Steve repeated, handing over the tranquilizer gun to him. Peter nodded, slipping it into the waistband of his pants so that it wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone nearby. “The rest of us will be in disguise around the party, right by your side, just in case anything goes wrong.”

“Sounds good.”

It was hard to keep the nerves off of his voice, when he himself felt on edge about the whole thing. There’d been countless of times, even before he was called in, when they were so close to capturing you. But you’d always managed to slip past their fingers at a moment’s notice, disappearing without a trance before popping up with a new victim on the other side of the world.

The party was in full swing when Peter strolled in, and his eyes immediately began to search for a woman of your stature. Gently pushing through the crowd of drunk dancers, he passed by the champagne bar when he saw someone who looked a lot like you from the back sitting by the balcony, chatting with another woman whom he did not recognize. Knowing it was too early to strike, Peter treated himself to a glass of wine, keeping one eye on you at all times. When the other woman got up to use the bathroom, Peter took out his gun from his waistband and positioned it perfectly, his finger on the trigger-

He couldn’t shoot.

He swore, checking to make sure the gun was fully loaded before trying again, but nothing.

Frustrated, he placed the glass aggressively on a nearby table and marched out onto the balcony, the gun still aimed at you. But no matter the mental gymnastics he put himself through, he just couldn’t fucking shoot.

“Peter?”

Your voice wrapped around him, soft and sweet, as Peter edged forward, the gun in his hand beginning to shake with all the effort he was putting into shooting. Then in his adrenaline clouded mind it finally clicked- the longing, the pull, the inability to harm you…

“Y-you’re my soulmate.” he stuttered, the last word hanging in the air. You looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes, as he stood motionless in his spot. He should be alerting the rest of the group. He should, at the very least, be tugging you into the party to be captured. But he can’t move, his feet stuck to the floor as the weight of gravity on his back seems to increase. He’s speechless as you lowly speak, your eyes fixated on the floor.

“Listen… you can’t hurt me, I can’t hurt you. Just let me go.”

“I can’t do that.” he says firmly, his consciousness slowly starting to seep back in.

She’s beautiful, he thinks, as she crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him, her doe eyes wet from the salty tears beginning to form.

“Why not? It’s not like we can even be together.”

He slowly walks over and places his hands on you, expecting you to push him away. But you don’t, gaze still on the floor and unmoving. He doesn’t quite know what to say, the emotions overwhelming but the words not able to move past his tongue.

“Are you here with the other Avengers?”

He nods, swallowing thickly.

“Then I should get going.” you respond, starting to pull up the hems of your dress. But he stops you, grabbing you wrist, and stopping you mid-way.

“W-wait. Don’t go.”

You laugh halfheartedly.

“Then go where?”

He waits for a moment, but then he drops the question.

“Do you trust me?” he decides to ask, pulling your chin upwards. “Please don’t use your powers on me, just tell me. Do you trust me?”

There’s a slight hesitation on your end but you nod.

“Then come with me to New York.”

That elicits a violent reaction from you as you push him off, your eyes wide with anger and shock.

“Are you fucking serious? You want me to turn myself in?” you yell, not caring about who hears you. He clenches his jaw at your response.

“All I’m saying is I want my soulmate to be with me, and safe.”

You let out a bitter laugh at that statement.

“With you? Peter, you don’t even know my real name. You don’t even know me, as a person. You’re an MIT educated superhero. I’m wanted in 72 countries and have killed men in the triple digits. Do you really think I’d be welcomed with open arms?”

His eyes darken at the mention of your death as he clenches his fist, his gaze unnerving.

“I won’t let them harm you.”

His stubbornness is infuriating.

“That’s the thing, Parker! You don’t get to decide whether or not I get harmed.”

“Why won’t you just trust me?” his tone is low but still soft as he marches towards you and grabs your wrist. You try to pull away but can’t, the sudden strength catching you off guard.

“Because apparently, you don’t care about me enough to see that it’s a fucking death sentence if I go back with you to New York-”

Your rant is cut off with a swift kiss to your lips, you can taste the underlying tones of his half-drunken cherry wine and your peach lipgloss mixing together. His teeth tug at your bottom lip as his hand grips your waist, shoving you against the marble column overlooking the balcony. All the anger and fear that’s been running through your mind the past few hours melts away and you swear he’s putting a trance on you, and not the other way around. When he finally pulls back, his gaze is determined and his lips are swollen, his calloused hand rubbing up against your soft skin.

“You’re wrong. I care. I care so fucking much about you that I don’t want you to run anymore. Aren’t you tired, angel? Of running. Of never being able to make allies. Of always being alone, never being able to settle down?”

You’re silent as he sighs, wishing he could read your mind.

“Angel-”

“(Y/n). My name is (Y/n).”

He softens at the mention of your name.

“(Y/n)... please, come with me.”

There’s a million different things you want to say, but all you can think about is that he smells like fresh laundry and lavender, and his skin is right against yours. You want to say yes.

“I need a night to think about it.” you mutter. To your surprise (and somewhat dismay) he wholeheartedly agrees, and pleads with you to allow him to follow you back to your house to spend the night. You can’t find the way to say “no” when he’s looking at you like that, the type of gaze that has you slammed against the wall of your bedroom an hour later with his jacket and cellphone tossed hazardously in the corner of your room.

“Is this okay?” he’s asking as he’s already pinning you down onto the mattress, layers being shedded faster than he’s speaking. You nod, bringing him back down for another kiss.

“One night to think about it, yeah?” he whispers against your lips, and the guilt starts settling in. But it’s replaced by a fire when his hands start wandering lower and you nod.

“Right. One night.”

Any sort of remorse or doubt you have dissipates into thin air, lost in ecstasy.

“Peter.”

After disabling his tracker and disappearing from any communications with the team for a whole 24 hours, Peter suddenly shows up back at Stark Tower, his eyes glazed over in a sickly pink hue as he stares down at Tony. It takes Sam dousing a cold bucket of water over Peter’s head to get him to snap out of his trance, his irises returning to their original hazel colour as he stands up straight, caught off guard by the sudden cold.

“Peter, you okay? Where were you?” Steve interrogates, concerned.

“I…” he tries to tell them, but his memory is a pleasant blank. He remembers arriving to the party and having a drink, but that’s about it.

“Did she hurt you?” Bruce asks, gently examining Peter’s head for any injuries.

“Who?”

They all look at him as if he’s crazy.

“You know? The killer? The one who seduces men with her eyes, the same person we’ve been trying to catch the past three weeks?”

Peter’s confusion just doubles and this elicits a quiet argument between the group, but one that Peter can’t force himself to listen to as he feels a strange sensation in his chest. There’s an odd ache in his chest that he can’t quite place, a type of dread that’s similar to the feeling of forgetting something important, but he can’t remember why. He shifts uncomfortably in his place before licking his lips as a reflex, tasting the remnants of last night.

His lips tasted sweet. Frowning, he dabs his lips with his finger, feeling the sticky residue.

Huh.

There’s something missing but he can’t find it in his mind, no matter how hard he’s forcing himself to think back.

All he tastes is peaches.

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

a/n: :( :( I KNOW I KNOW the ending isn’t happy but to me it felt like the best way to end it. Please take a few seconds to like/reblog/comment/inbox me if you enjoyed it! It’ll mean so much to me.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker one-shot #peter parker oneshot #spiderman x reader #avengers x reader #marvel reader insert #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #a repost since tumblr sucks at tags

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issa-me-addy · 4 years

Text

Better Than Words (OC x Bucky Barnes)

Room #234

PART TWO/?

A/N: HELLO, so funny story I fell into a very long depressive episode and forgot that I had started posting a fic but I will be posting several chapters within the next few days just.... cos here is the link to PART ONE! And a kind reminder that this takes place in an AU after Spiderman: Homecoming where the Avengers have reassembled and the following all live in the Avengers tower: Tony, Pepper, Steve, Bucky, Natasha, Wanda & Vision. Peter Parker’s identity is still in tact and he spends his free time training at the Avengers tower under a “Stark internship”.

also here is my masterlist!

Word Count: 2073

Warnings: fluff, mild angst, and slow burn

It had taken nearly a week for Maya to stop over analyzing whether she made a weird impression when she met Bucky, and it was August now. She had to clear her mind to polish up her lesson plans and start worrying more about getting her classroom ready for September.

She had always had a vision of what her classroom would look like, ever since she decided that she wanted to teach. This ideal classroom included filled bookcases, walls covered up and down with art and references to her favorite books and characters, both classic and contemporary. Every person Maya opened her mouth to in the past several months knew just how excited she was about this classroom.

Maya was practically itching to talk about it and luckily for her, Nat came in the day that she got the keys to her classroom.

She found herself waving Nat down as soon as she walked in through the door. Maya didn’t even wait for her to take a seat before opening her mouth. “So I’ve been hoarding a lot of stuff for the new classroom--”

Nat laughed. “Yeah, I helped you pick out more than half of it.”

Maya stopped in her tracks and slapped on a comical pout. “Nat… You know it’s for the children…”

“Yeah, of course. For the children,” she smiled back to Maya, only pausing to talk to MJ, letting her know she just wanted her usual coffee and pastry.

Maya grinned from ear to ear, waiting for Nat’s shoulders to square back to her’s. “Anyways! I got my keys today and I was thinking, well-- Now, I know that this is kind of, you know… our spot, BUT I was wondering if you were free for the rest of the day? I was thinking, we could, maybe, caffeinate and you could help me move everything into my new classroom, maybe?”

Maya knew asking this was a bit of a longshot, hence all the rambling. It was never verbally spoken, but she knew that Nat, Steve and everyone from Avengers’ tower knew not to make real connections outside of their small circle. And Maya wasn’t stupid by any means, she knew that it made sense. She always thought about it long and hard, understanding that getting close to anyone who wasn’t super human, anyone that wasn’t capable of truly defending themselves was, in a way, selfish of them. Maya continued to make arguments in her head about how Nat wouldn’t have let herself get close to her, and that she wouldn’t joke about her and Steve if that was really the case. This only confused her more if anything, but nonetheless, she kept her fingers crossed because she genuinely considered Nat to be her friend.

Nat paused for a moment, and Maya could see her genuinely weighing out her options as Nat’s head tilted back and forth. Then, her head dropped between her shoulders and her hand came up to rub the back of her neck. “You know what? Yeah. I just had some training scheduled with Steve but moving things is a work out, right? Actually, should I ask him if he wants to help us out?”

Maya exhaled a bit and took a moment to process her answer-- in the end she couldn’t help but smile. “Yes! Oh my God, thank you! And, yeah, I was going to ask if he could help anyways because I have some heavy furniture that I need to be brought into my classroom. The chair and desk that the school left for me just don’t make the cut you know?” She was still rambling, but more so because of her excitement than her anxiety now. “And with his help, we can knock it all out sooner! As thanks, maybe I can make you guys dinner tonight? Or another night?”

Her friend couldn’t help but laugh a bit at her ability to get so many words out in one breath. Before responding, Nat pulled out her phone. “Hold on. Let me call Steve first.”

Nat was on the phone for maybe a minute, only pausing to confirm which school.

“Midtown Sci and Tech. It’s in Queens,” Maya grinned, only getting more and more excited by the minute.

Nat nodded, “Midtown Tech… Yeah, in Queens… Yeah, I’m sure that’s fine! Also, steal Happy’s SUV-- there’s some furniture you’ll be moving… Awesome, see you in a bit.” Then a click and the phone call ended.

“Steve said Bucky’s coming along. I hope you don’t mind.”

Maya’s brain nearly short circuited. It’s not that she minded but she felt a bit blind sided, especially having only met him once prior for less than the duration of a commercial break.

Despite this she reminded herself to smile. “Oh! Oh yeah, that’s fine! I guess I need all the help that I can get.”

MJ called out Nat’s name, leaving her coffee and pastry on the counter.

Nat stood up and grabbed her order, simultaneously asking, “Do you want to get another coffee before we start loading stuff up? The guys won’t be here for 20 minutes probably. Steve has to choose between two dozen different white t-shirts.”

They both laughed.

“No thanks, we can just head up now. I have a few last minute things to pack before we start loading the cars. Thanks again, Nat. I really do appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem. Lead the way!” And with that, Maya and Nat made their way out of the coffee shop and directly into the door to the left of the cafe entrance, which opened up to a staircase that led directly to Maya’s front door.

The two girls spent the next 20 minutes packing up the last couple of boxes and were already loading a few into Maya’s car by the time Steve and Bucky pulled into the spot right behind Maya’s blue Toyota.

“Hey, short stack,” Steve greeted Maya, holding the door open for her and Nat to walk back up to the apartment.

“Sup, gramps,” Maya teased, stepping through the door, closely followed by Nat, then Steve, then Bucky.

Once they got up the stairs, it was Maya that held the door open for everyone to file in. As they did, she realized just how small it was. The mere height and broadness of Steve and Bucky made the previously vast space feel tiny very suddenly.

The studio was made up of one large rectangle and a door that led to the bathroom.

As you walked in through the door, the kitchen appeared to the left. You could only see where it ended distinctly because of the dining table, which was scattered with filing boxes overflowing with books that Maya had been hoarding nearly her entire life.

Past the dining table was the entertainment stand, which was really just a short, long bookshelf where she stored her personal books, movies and CD collection. It was also home to a dozen or so personal journals that Maya refused to leave at her parents’ house out of sheer paranoia.

Opposite to the television was an old leather couch and a small, pale wooden coffee table sat in between the two. Both the couch and coffee table were stacked with more books and a few more boxes dedicated to student freebies, desk supplies, as well as classroom decorations. And leaning against the wall were the boxes holding all the unassembled furniture Maya previously made the UPS man haul up the stairs similarly to the way she was going to make Steve and Bucky lug them back down.

Just to the right of the television was the door to the bathroom and to the right of that was a massive wooden wardrobe. Across from the wardrobe sat Maya’s full sized bed, which looked mighty comfortable with the abundance of pillows alongside a questionable amount of stuffed animals for a fully grown and independent woman.

The desk was a hybrid nightstand, as it was pressed up against the wall and sandwiched between the bed and the couch. And as for the walls, miscellaneous things were hanging up and a photo collage above the desk was in the works.

Maya had to take a moment to understand how her apartment would look from a newcomers perspective for the first time and she grew a little embarrassed. After taking a breath she internally hoped that they wouldn’t make any comments about the state of her living space.

Steve and Bucky took this time to look around for themselves.

And Steve was quite impressed. “Nice set up! Is it just you?”

“Yup! Just me! I was thinking about getting a cat or something. I had a lot of pets growing up and just having the company would be really nice.”

A smile was almost immediately slapped across Steve’s face, “Ooooohhhh! There’s a great adoption place Bucky and I have volunteered at. It’s not far from here, actually. We can bring you another time, huh Buck?”

Bucky nodded, hands shoved in his pockets, “Yeah. We could do that.”

Maya took this moment to finally greet Bucky, “Yeah, that’d be great actually! Also, thank you James, for coming to help.”

Her words were short and sweet because she barely let him get out a nod and a ‘No problem’ before giving directions.

“Okay, if you guys could take all the big furniture and bigger boxes of books on the couch to the SUV, that would be amazing! Nat and I will handle the rest of the stuff in the kitchen and the smaller boxes on the couch. Then, we’ll head to Midtown.”

After brief nods the guys got to work right away and Nat grabbed another one of the boxes cluttering the dining table before making her way downstairs again.

It only really took fifteen minutes for the four of them to finish packing up the cars. This mostly had to do with the fact that Bucky and Steve didn’t need help lugging boxes of books down the stairs. Nor did they need breaks after several times up and down the stairs, unlike Maya.

Once the boxes all trickled out, Maya smiled at the cleaner state of her apartment. After a moment she grabbed the building and classroom keys out of her desk drawer, double checked her bag and did some last minute grabs. Half a dozen locks later, she’s meeting the other three downstairs by the cars.

“You guys know how to get there right?” Maya asked Steve before thinking long and hard about whether she’d forgotten anything.

He nodded before pushing the button to close the trunk to the SUV. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure. We’ll be right behind you anyways.”

“Aw, no racing?” Nat taunts him.

“Not like you stand a chance,” Bucky retorts.

“Is that so, James?” Maya asks, mostly joking. She realizes, quickly though, that her competitive side is what gives her the courage to speak to Bucky in such a tone.

“It’s not even a question, sweetheart.” Bucky laughs, before patting the top of her car’s hood. “Let’s just get a move on, yeah?”

“They just know they would have lost,” Nat sneers before climbing into the passenger seat of Maya’s car.

It’s on the drive there that Nat directly asks Maya about her potential relationship with Steve: “Are you sure? You wouldn’t even give poor Stevie a chance?”

Maya can’t help but blush in response. “It’s not Steve. I would be interested, yeah but-- I don’t know. I don’t feel anything romantic for Steve for whatever reason. I mean, he’s great! And I love being around him, but I just feel like he’s a great best friend, good brother type. You know?”

Nat huffed a bit. “I just think that you guys would be great together. You already get along so well and have a lot in common. It just feels really obvious to me.”

“Sometimes the obvious path isn’t always the right one.”

“Did you just quote a Pixar film to me?”

“Nat you realize that you didn’t even skip a beat; you knew exactly what I was quoting.”

“Oh hush, Steve’s the one that made me watch it!”

“In any case, don’t get your hopes up. OR Steve’s! I don’t want things to be weird with him just because you think we’re cute together.”

Nat can’t help but roll her eyes. “Just keep an open mind, yeah?”

Maya presses her lips together and nods. “Of course.”

TAGLIST: @asuperconfusedgirl @amisutcliff

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fairiesherefairiesthere · 4 years

Text

Fraxus fake Boyfriend AU part 1/?

So it’s Fraxus day, but this isn’t finished yet so I decided to split it up. Here’s part one folks! (it’s a modern au)

"No Freed, you can't hack your father's bank account. The feds will get you and then I will be tragically best friend-less."

"No, you don't get it", Freed says and on the grainy computer screen, Laxus can see him shake his head. "If I go to jail, it'll probably be in Crocus, which means you can actually visit me instead of videocalling me at stupid o'clock in the morning. Also orange is an excellent colour on me."

A quick glance at the lower corner of his screen and a bit of mental math tells Laxus that it's indeed way too early in the morning for Freed to even consider to talk to him. "Justine it's three in the morning there, why are you even awake?"

Although it's hard to tell with the awful videoquality, Laxus thinks he can see the other man pout. "Talking to my bestie, duh", Freed replies and bashes his eyelashes obnoxiously, drawing a huff of laughter out of Laxus. "What are you, a fifteen year old schoolgirl? The lack of sleep is clearly getting to your head."

Smoothly ignoring Laxus' criticism of his horrendous sleeping habits, Freed continues the earlier topic. "Speaking of besties, made any friends yet?" Groaning, Laxus rolls his eyes. "My roommate is an actual nutjob and I don't know why I'm fond of him. He introduced me to his absolute bitch of a friend and I think I like her even more", he confesses and the pixelated image of Freed gives him a smug smirk. "It's because you like to be bullied, Laxus dearest. You won't say it, so I'll say it for you : bottom rights baby."

"I hate you and if you were here I'd smack you", he half-heartedly threatens and Freed replies "Kinky" without missing a beat. While the two of them are engaged in a staring match without actually being able to make out each other's eyes in the blur of colours on the screen, Bickslow throws open Laxus' bedroom door and yells: "Time to hide your porn blondie, it's time for reallife interaction with actual human beings!"

On instinct, Laxus does click away and as soon as the connection with Freed breaks he sees it fit to pout like a child. Their schedules matching (or one of them not sleeping for a day) and their wifi allowing them to see each other is a ridiculously difficult situation to stumble upon and now he's wasted his chance. Bickslow looks at least apologetic. Laxus was going to forgive him, until he opened his godforsaken mouth. "Dang man, the porn that good?"

"I hate you too", he says without clarifying to Bickslow who the other despised person is. He doesn't seem to mind as he plucks Laxus' computer from his bed, plops it down the nearby desk and sits himself down right in front of Laxus, legs in lotus position and bouncing with way too much energy. "I had a great idea", he announces and Laxus immediately doubts him.

"You see Ever and I, we thought you were a bit lonely and it might heal your soul to... Nah, scratch all of that, Ever and I were really fucking bored and we thought : Hey, let's set our absolute bestie up on a date! So here we are. Get dressed, you're going on a date."

"I can't", he says and desperately tries to come up with a reason. Uni work won't fool them, because they know that he's actually a good student, other activities won't work either because he's a social recluse and not even Makarov can save him because for some reason, the little shits he calls friends are all buddy-buddy with his grandpa.

"My boyfriend would hate it", he continues, cheeks colouring. It's because of the lying, not because he can only come up with one boyfriend-candidate in his mind. The statement is bland and straight to the point, which makes his words sound all the more true. Of course, Bickslow doesn't even buy a little bit of it. "Prove it", he demands.

While mentally apologising to Freed, Laxus digs up his contact information and futily tries to call him. After the third time trying, Bickslow looks even less convinced, which is an impressive feat considering he didn't believe Laxus from the beginning. Sighing, he goes to their chat instead and unlike their usual nonsense, he finds a sweet (?) message from Freed.

Damn, the wifi is really fucking with us huh? Wish we could talk more and I wish I could see your pretty face instead of a black screen and some smudges of colour here. X from the most beautiful man you know."

'Conceited brat', he thinks fondly and replies: Cymbeline (Act 3, Scene 4) Line 35-39, but replace 'slander' with 'you bitch'. They've adopted this weird system where Freed uses slang and Laxus literary references, just to meet each other's vibes somewhat. Sometimes it works, most of the times it really doesn't, but at least it's fun.

"Bro have you forgotten about my entire existence already? Stop smiling at your phone and admit that you don't have a mans!" Wordlessly, Laxus passes his phone to Bickslow who gasps. "Book quotes? Shit man, you're in deep. I'm gonna tell Ever." Without a warning, Bickslow disappears through the window, probably giving Evergreen her twentieth heart attack of this month by landing on her balcony. If the school thought a floor would seperate girls and boys, then they clearly hadn't met Bickslow.

Too late Laxus realises that Bicks has taken his phone with him and hopes his friends somewhat value his privacy and don't scroll too far up. There are the occassional way too deep talks around midnight but also a one time onceler x barry b benson bdsm roleplay (Freed had needed help with a creative writing assignment and Laxus had contributed a whole lot of nothing).

Barely five minutes later, Evergreen marches right into his bedroom, heels clicking snappily on his floor. "What", she spits and waves with his phone, "is this?"

"My cellphone."

Unperturbed, she continues her dramatic rant. "You have a boyfriend and you don't bother telling us?" Her tone turns sly and she elegantly flops down on his bed, rearranging her body to give herself a 'stern posture'. She looks like an irod rod trying to do yoga. "Or are you just making things up? Feel free to prove me wrong by showing us what he looks like."

"Why would I bring my photoalbums to uni?" he asks dumbfounded and Ever looks at him as though he just came down from Mars. "Laxus, honey, snapchat is a thing? Email if you're oldfashioned? Where are your boyfriend's nudes?"

"You're in a relationship."

"With a great guy who loves and trusts me and knows I ain't gonna cheat on him. Show me the dickpicks." Annoyed, he gives her a little shove. "I don't have any, I'm used to him being around. He's on another continent now and I just recently realised that all my memorabilias are at home."

"Convenient", Ever remarks dryly and Laxus sighs deeply and stretches out his hand. After she dumped his phone in it, he sends Freed a message ('Bro send me a pic of u ppl wanna know u exist') and shows it to both of his friends. "There."

Surprisingly fast, he gets a message back. 'No. The paparazzi and the FBI agent assigned to me will have to try harder than that to get a hold of ME (why is this man so ridiculous).' He shows it to Ever and Bicks and the former uses this opportunity to snatch his phone, typing a response before Laxus can properly register what's happening. "Hi I'm Laxus friend and I don't believe you're his boyfriend. Send a thirst trap to prove you exist. Or nudes", she reads aloud. Bickslow guffaws at that and Laxus sighs, resigning himself to face the consequences of his actions. What he does not expect however, is for Freed to send a picture back.

It's an awful photo of high school-aged Freed, complete with braces and a very unnatural smile. He's gangly, thin and looks like the walking embodiment of an awkward teen. 'This is a nude, as my soul has never been as bare as in this one picture', the caption reads and Ever laughs. "You know what, he passes the test." She purses her lips. "For now at least, I'm going to need more concrete evidence of this being an existing human being, because everyone can pluck a photo from the internet. Anyway, you're way too late for your date, so you get off easy Laxus."

After brushing nonexistent dirt from her skirt she opens her arms for Bickslow. "Take me home, spiderman", she orders and he gives her a salute. "Roger madame!" he yells before plucking Ever from the floor and leaping over the balcony railing. Their trust in each other is remarkable, but Laxus does think they're weirdos.

The very next day, Ever once again bursts through his door and Laxus mentally curses because he hasn't had the chance to discuss this whole thing with Freed yet. "Laxus", she says, voice dead-serious. "Evergreen.", he greets back as she half-crawls under the covers of his bed. "It's fucking cold", she clarifies before opening her laptop. That seemingly insignificant action makes Laxus weary, as Ever is holding her rickety laptop that's for illegal purposes only.

"I reverse searched that pic of your boyfriend and before I tell you the results, I'd like to know how exactly you met him."

He recognises her nosiness for what it really is (worry) and with a sigh, he gives her the sparknotes version of their history.

"We lived in the same town and we became friends because both of our fathers were absolute shit. They were friends so we became friends. At age thirteen he moved to Alakitasia and we reconnected because we matched on that stupid tinder profile you guys made me."

"Are you sure you weren't catfished?"

"Yup, because we skype regularly."

"Okay. Then certainly you're aware that he's a billionaire? Like, the heir to Justine Industries, the biggest technologie giant at the moment?"

He tries to see the whole situation from her perspective and has to admit that 'I have a boyfriend overseas, who's also a billionaire', sounds a bit too over the top to be true. "Yep, his pa's job is the reason he moved. I know this whole situation sounds like a huge lie to stop you guys' antics (probably because it is), but I swear it's true (it really isn't)."

"Okay then", she mumbles before putting her feet into Laxus' lap. The audicity of this woman, he thinks as he does absolutely nothing to move her. "I'm sorry for the whole 'setting you up' thing, it was rude of us. We just wanted you to have someone, you know? Because you deserve it and we can also see that you kind of want it and we wanted to help. We were too overzealous."

Ah, what a festive feeling brews in his chest. Nothing like a bucket of guilt to get your morning refreshment. The worst part is that Evergreen isn't even done yet with her sentimental speech. "Also, you get really happy whenever your man sends you a message, so all in all I'm glad our big plans didn't work out. I'm still going to be weary of his actual existence until I meet him, I hope you don't mind." He shakes his head. "Nah, be weary all you want."

After dropping Evergreen off at her boyfriend's, he rushes to his room to send Freed a message to update him on his situation (he even uses the actual sms-system instead of the internet, which is crazy expensive but he's in a bit of a panic). Unlike most of the time, Freed responds quickly. Laxus wonders why his wifi is absolute shit if he's rich enough to pay for intercontinential messaging. An agonising five minutes pass as the speech bubble ominously keeps showing that the other is typing. When it finally shows up, all it reads is :

"Lol"

"That's all you have to say?" he furiously types back, but before he can hit send, he gets another message. "Whatever man, I'll be the hottest boyfriend ever." After that, it's radio silence again.

The silence between them is broken a few days later. Laxus is trying to enjoy his lunch while Bickslow and Evergreen bicker over something or other, when his phone pings. Little gremlins that they are, they've already looked at the message as soon as it pops up. They read the godawful collection of words "Send me a pic of your feet" before he does.

"Romance at its finest", Bickslow dryly jokes and Evergreen turns to him with big worried eyes. "You're sure he's not a catfish? Or is this what you consider a raunchy picture?" Laxus would answer if he knew what the fuck is happening. Another message appears : "With measuring tapes surrounding them, not in a weird, gross, fifty year old with a feet kink kind of way. I want to spoil my boyfriend (with my father's creditcard)."

"Aw how sweet, he's committing crimes for ya", Bickslow croons and Laxus grumbles. "I'm not about to give him anymore excuses to commit theft.", he says while typing "Absolutely not." At the other side of the table Evergreen collects her phone from her bag and opens Instagram. After looking for and finding Freed's profile, she sends him a selfie with Laxus and Bickslow in the background and adds a thoughtful message detailing Laxus' feet. "Honey, you need shoes that fit you. No stores have your size and if your insanely rich boyfriend's dad can involuntarily provide, why not take the chance?"

A few days later, the shoes do arrive. They're the most comfortable pair Laxus has ever owned and there's no obnoxious trademarked name smacked on it. He thanks Freed, but asks him to please not do something along those lines again. Knowing full well that Freed himself would never be financially bothered by it, he still feels guilty. Freed apologises (he really shouldn't, he's been nothing but an angel while Laxus is being bothersome) and drops the matter.

"Where are you rn?" The message feels somewhat ominous, but Laxus ignores his gutfeeling that tells him that today is going to be weird. "The western outside food court of Crocus' uni, why?" The response that he gets is a simple : " :) ". Like a dumbass, he decides to not question it.

While he's chilling out, head resting on his crossed arms, he hears an unusual amount of chattering. Although he and his friends had chosen this place because of how little people came here, it seems like that peace is now gone. Rest in peace, piece. Vibrating bothersomely, his phone grabs his attention. "Got ya another present!" Brows furrowing, Laxus reads the new incoming message : "Kids and their phones these days. Look up darling !"

#fraxus #fraxus day #Freed Justine #Laxus Dreyar #freedxlaxus #evergreen #bickslow #fairy tail #fanfic #TheFairyWrites

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nothingbutimagines · 5 years

Note

Hi! Could you do a soulmate!au blurb for Peter Parker where him and the reader are enemies who fine out they're soulmates with dialogue prompts 18, 15, and 17? Also, the soulmate situation is once they are both 16, they find out the name of their soulmate because it appears on their arm at the time of their birth? I love your writing! Thanks!!

Thanks for this super cute blurb idea! It’s Soulmate!AU Tuesday and the dialogue prompts are:

15. “i can’t have this argument with you again” - “but-” - “no. i’m done”

17. “shut up with all that soulmate shit”

18. “it’s because i’m so attractive isn’t it?” - “i say this. and i cannot stress this enough. i find you completely repulsive.”

I also may or may not have totally gotten into the idea and wrote wayyy too much!

You hated your birthday. You didn’t normally, but you were turning 16 and all anyone could talk to you about was whether or not you were excited to find out who your soulmate was and if you thought they might be someone you know.

You would smile when anyone asked to be polite and say you were excited and couldn’t wait even though earlier in the day, you had snapped at your older sister for bothering you with the time you were born and what to expect when you found out who your soulmate was.

“Shut up with all this soulmate shit!” was all you could manage to say to her before you stormed out of the house to get to school.

As you walked through the hallway, saying hi to friends and saying thank you to those who wished you a happy birthday, you bumped into Peter Parker.

If there was anything you hated more than your sixteenth birthday, it was Peter Parker.

You and Peter were enemies in your mind. You always had to fight him for the top spot in your classes on an academic scale, he was a pain in your ass as a chemistry lab partner, and again and again, he stood up your best friend, Liz, before she ended up moving away and never quite forgiving him for it.

Peter Parker was the worst, and nothing could change your mind.

“Hey, Y/n.” Peter said. “Did you do the PowerPoint for the lab review?”

“You said you were going to do it.” You groaned.

“No, you said you were going to do it.”

“Parker! You always do it.”

“And I thought you were goi-”

You put your hand up as you spoke, “I can’t have this argument with you again”

“But-” Peter attempted to begin to sway you.

“no. i’m done” You stopped him from speaking. “You always do the PowerPoint. You said that since today was my birthday, you’d do it.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

“Yeah, you idiot.”

“Says the girl who has the lower grade of us two.” Peter quipped.

“This is surprising coming from the guy who’s always watching Spiderman on his laptop in class and I know for a fact failed the last test.”

“I got a C, thank you.”

“That’s practically failing. See you, Parker.” You sassily said, brushing past him and towards the cafeteria.

You heart swelled for a moment, something you had never felt before, as you felt Peter’s presence beside you. Confused by the feeling, you pushed it to the back of your mind, calling it a weird muscle tremor.

“We’re- uh- we’re heading the same way, remember?” Peter chuckled awkwardly.

You looked down at your watch, the time reading 11:22. He was right, you still had lunch before chemistry and knowing MJ, she’d want you to sit with her and Peter and Ned today.

You also realized you had fifteen minutes until you and your soulmate found out you were soulmates.

Peter and you stayed in uncomfortable silence as you rounded the corner and into the cafeteria, MJ and Ned waving you both down to sit with them. Peter began to trail behind as you rushed to MJ.

“Okay, I know I hate this romantic bullshit that is learning my soulmate, but I am really nervous and I have about-” You paused to look at your watch, “thirteen minutes until I throw up.”

“Actually, I think finding out who your soulmate is is a beautiful thing.” Ned interjected with a smile. “Especially when you know they’ve been waiting for you to turn sixteen, too.”

You couldn’t help but smile at him. “Ned?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re beautiful.”

MJ grabbed you hand, pulling your attention towards her. “Y/n, I think finding out your soulmate is gonna be good for you.”

“Yeah, maybe he’ll make her less bitchy.” Peter mumbled.

“I heard that, Parker.” You snapped and the boy rolled his eyes.

“You were supposed to.”

“You know, it’s my birthday, you could try to be nicer.”

“Why would I be nicer when you’re making me make the PowerPoint?”

“Cause you said you would do it.” You rolled your eyes and looked at your watch. “I have ten minutes.”

“Are you excited, at all?” MJ asked.

“Not really. I’m more annoyed than anything. I’d rather find this out at a later time, not sophmore year. And I’d ask you if you were excited, but you haven’t had your birthday and neither has Ned, which leaves us with Peter.”

“Don’t talk to me, Y/n. I’m busy doing your work.” He said, not looking up from his computer.

“Peter, were you excited when you found out who your soulmate was.”

“Actually, Y/n, Peter’s soulmate hasn’t turned sixteen yet. He doesn’t know.” Ned said.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, and he’s kinda upset about it. He’s really hoping his soulmate is-”

“Ned!”

“Oh- uh - sorry, Peter!” Ned quickly grew quiet, understanding why Peter wouldn’t want him to reveal his secret.

Peter couldn’t let anyone know that he was heartbroken when he didn’t find out his soulmate’s name was not yours. That it is wasn’t anyone’s. It wasn’t until he found out through MJ that your birthday wasn’t until a couple months after his.

So, for the past few months, Peter has fallen more and more for you. He was enamored by your intellect and beauty. Yes, he knew you hated him, but he never hated you, only went along with the charade because the bickering was the only way he’d ever get you to talk to him.

But, you hated him and he knew exactly why. He also knew that realistically, you would never fall for him, even if you were soulmates.

“I have a minute left.” You broke the line of thought Peter was having. “I don’t want to do this.”

“You can’t not do it.” MJ replied, putting a on your shoulder. “It’s alright, we’re all here for you.”

“My sister said that it burns when the name comes up on your arm. And you know I’m a bitch, M.”

MJ laughed. “I know. It’ll be fine though.” She said reassuringly, taking a glance at your watch. “You have ten seconds, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.”

You began to feel the burning sensation on your arm as you cried out in pain, pulling on the hoodie sleeve until the feeling subsided.

“Goddammit! That hurts.” Peter groaned, causing everyone to look at him. “I got a paper cut, sorry.”

“Now for the moment of truth. MJ, you look.” You begged, shoving your arm in front of her and looking away.

“Holy shit.” MJ breathed.

“What? What is it?” You turned to look at your exposed arm and could feel the closeness of a heart attack as you saw his name.

Peter Parker

“This can’t be real.” You gasped, looking up at Peter, your eyes wide.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Peter gave you a look. “It’s because I’m so attractive isn’t it?”

“I say this, and I cannot stress this enough, I find you completely repulsive.” You quipped. “Look at your arm.”

Peter began to roll up his sweater sleeve, already knowing what would come up on his skin, your name.

“Y/n, we can make this work.” Peter said.

“I don’t want to do that, Parker.” You replied as Peter got up and moved into the spot next to you on the bench.

“Just trust me, Y/n.” Peter whispered, brushing the hair from your face before pulling you close to him and brushing his lips against yours.

You weren’t sure what came over you; if it was hormones or the weird muscle tremor in your chest, but your lips moved towards Peters, molding themselves around his. Your heart swelled, your lips ached. Peter felt right.

Maybe you could work with this.

93 notes · View notes

vexedtonightmares · 5 years

Text

with great power (elu spiderman au)

eliott has been saved by spiderman quite a few times for absolutely no reason. hopeless romantic that he is, eliott accidentally starts falling for spiderman somewhere along the way and doesn’t know what to do about it. obviously, there’s only one solution. he and his good friend lucas should pretend to date to make spiderman jealous. there’s no ulterior motives here, of course, just lucas helping a bro out.

aka eliott’s falling in love with spiderman, lucas is in love with eliott, and lucas is spiderman.

1 2 3

ao3

no.4 “I really wish I knew your name.”

Sometimes the only time Eliott felt free to exist was when he was alone. Solitude suited him, which was ironic given the fact that one of his greatest fears was total isolation. The difference between being alone and being lonely, he supposed, was in the depth of interaction he received. He could feel completely isolated in a room full of people or, alternatively, the least lonely he’d ever felt with just one person by his side, or even with no one there at all.

He was alone at that moment, but it wasn’t the kind of alone he wanted to escape from. That kind of alone made him feel like he was running through a narrow tunnel, trying to get out as the walls closed in around him. This one was more peaceful, like lying in a meadow under the sun, letting the breeze drift across his face.

The peace filled his body as his hand drifted across the pages of his sketchbook, pen clasped tightly into his hand. He was drawing his millionth variation of a raccoon and a hedgehog, this time on the opposite sides of a crumbling Eiffel Tower. There had been real fear in his heart when he’d heard Lucas’ call the other day, and even though he now knew that the call had just been feedback radiating from his own phone, it still left him a bit shaken. He would have been terrified if any of his friends had been in danger, but particularly Lucas. Their friendship had always been different, even from the beginning. Maybe that’s why their friends didn’t find it weird that they were “dating”.

A knock on the door to his flat startled him, and he accidentally dropped his pen, moving hastily to pick it up because drawing pens were way too expensive and he couldn’t afford to lose it. He rushed to the door, seeing Lucas’ face fill the peephole, eyes crossed and tongue sticking out. Shit, that was right, they’d rescheduled their “date” for that day.

He fixed his face into a wide grin and opened the door. “Hello my love.”

Lucas’ face went slack in shock for a brief moment before he blinked and returned to his goofy self. Eliott could almost convince himself he’d imagined the expression. “You know you don’t have to say things like that when we’re alone, right?” Lucas asked with a weak laugh, letting himself in.

“I’m a method actor, L, respect the process won’t you?” he responded teasingly, watching Lucas roll his eyes fondly at the nickname. It was sort of an inside joke of theirs, because they’d realized that even though their names were drastically different they did have one nickname in common. L and El. They were the only ones allowed to call each other that and, even though they’d been doing so for years, the rest of their friends still didn’t totally understand it.

“I’m so sorry Daniel Day-Lewis. Please, continue.” Lucas grinned, cocking his head to one side. Eliott scrunched his nose up as a reaction to Lucas’ example, not because it was a bad one, but because he’d introduced Lucas to the actor, forcing him to watch movie after movie because he admired his skill so much, particularly his devotion to method acting. Honestly, he was surprised Lucas even remembered, he always complained about watching those movies. It was sweet that he’d actually paid attention.

“So what’s the plan?” Eliott asked, changing the subject. If Lucas was startled by the abrupt change, he didn’t show it.

Lucas shrugged. “I thought you said you had a plan?”

Eliott opened his mouth, looking for an answer. That was true, he had told Lucas he’d plan everything. Normally he would have, but he was still reeling a bit from his last encounter and exchange with Spiderman. “I do,” he said slowly.

“And? What is it?” Lucas prompted, and Eliott knew that he could see right through him. He was grateful, though, that Lucas was humoring him, giving him time to think. An idea clicked in Eliott’s head.

“It’s a surprise,” he said, catching Lucas’ disbelieving stare.

“You know, if you forgot, all you have to say—”

“I didn’t forget,” Eliott argued. Even though he didn’t look convinced, Lucas let it go, allowing Eliott to grab his phone and keys before they left. Eliott had left his phone in his bedroom, and when he emerged back into the living room he found Lucas looking at the drawing he’d left open on the table.

Lucas shifted uncomfortably when he saw Eliott had come back. “I told you that I wasn’t there.”

“I know,” Eliott agreed, “But the thought that you might have been scared me.” Lucas’ eyes widened and Eliott worried he’d said something wrong. “Sorry, I should have put that away, it’s not done yet anyway.”

“No, no, I love it,” Lucas said hurriedly. Eliott narrowed his eyes, but Lucas continued, “Can I have it when you’re done?”

Usually Eliott didn’t give away his drawings, but he could never say no to Lucas. He’d actually lost quite a few of his hedgehog and raccoon drawings to Lucas, who claimed that he wanted to save them to sell when Eliott became a famous artist. Eliott knew better, he knew they sat in a box in his dresser, weathered enough that it seemed Lucas took them out to look at them often.

“Of course,” Eliott agreed, and the resulting smile on Lucas’ face more than made up for the fact that he’d be losing another one of his drawings. Now satisfied, Lucas led the way to the door, looking expectantly over his shoulder for Eliott to follow him.

Once they were outside Eliott grabbed onto Lucas’ hand instinctively and Eliott felt Lucas stiffen in surprise at the gesture. Lucas blinked up at him with those big blue eyes of his. “I get that you’re method acting, but this is really unnecessary.”

“Maybe I want to hold your hand. People can do that without it being romantic, you know,” Eliott pointed out, and Lucas blushed.

“I know that,” Lucas mumbled, dropping his gaze to the sidewalk,“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Eliott rolled his eyes and squeezed Lucas’ hand, drawing their eyes back up to meet one another. “May I remind you that you were the one who put all the restrictions on our fake dating scenario? If this makes you uncomfortable, I can stop.”

Eliott started to retract his hand, but Lucas tightened his grip. He smirked and raised his eyebrows in surprise, while Lucas acted like he did nothing of the sort.

“My hands are cold,” Lucas said with a small shrug, and Eliott nodded with faux sympathy, knowing full well Lucas was just looking for an excuse. He didn’t care, he didn’t mind holding hands. It wasn’t like they’d never held hands before, so he didn’t know why this time was any different.

Still hand in hand, Eliott led the way, past the various spaces Lucas might expect to be taken, through the park they’d met for the first time, back when Lucas was thirteen and he was fifteen, both at the age range where idiocy came so easy to them. Eliott had actually been annoyed that day that Idriss had invited his sister and her friends to join them at the park, mostly because they had planned to smoke and there was no way they could do that with a bunch of thirteen year olds. Unfortunately for Idriss, Eliott had left that day with a new best friend, someone he felt like he’d known for his whole life. Of course, he never told Idriss that Lucas was his best friend, but it wasn’t like it wasn’t obvious.

There was a bench in the park that Eliott and Lucas came to when they wanted to have heart to hearts. They’d shared plenty of heart to hearts in bedrooms or drunk in bathrooms at parties or hidden in alcoves at school where no one could bother them, but those were the unofficial heart to hearts. If one of them had something they really needed to talk about, in a more formal sort of way, they came to this bench. It was where Lucas had come out to Eliott, where Eliott had come out to Lucas, where Lucas had explained the situation with his parents and why he had been living in the basement of Manon’s flatshare for months, where Eliott had told Lucas about his diagnosis.

“We’re not going to the bench, are we?” Lucas asked when they got close, a bit of apprehension in his voice.

“No, don’t worry, no secrets tonight,” Eliott reassured him, not registering the way Lucas’ face fell, ever so slightly. They continued on, until Eliott came across the one place he’d told himself he’d never let anyone come near. He hesitated a moment, deciding whether or not he really wanted to show Lucas, then thought fuck it. There was no one in the world he’d rather introduce this part of himself to.

Lucas clung closer to him, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly. “You didn’t bring me here to murder me, did you?”

“No. This is my favorite place in the city. The petite ceinture,” Eliott explained, taking out his phone and using it as a flashlight to guide them into the tunnel. Lucas still looked a bit wary, but he allowed himself to be led under the bridge.

“Why am I just hearing about it if it’s your favorite place in the city?” Lucas asked, voice echoing in the darkness.

Eliott shrugged, glancing at the ground. “It’s where I come when I want to be alone. I can think better here, I guess.”

Lucas’ hand slipped from his grip and Eliott looked back up at him, wondering if he’d said something wrong. Lucas had his arms crossed in front of his chest. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to take me somewhere so important to you out of obligation, especially if this is the first I’m even hearing about it and we’ve been friends for three years.”

“Lucas. Are you serious?”

“I’m just saying!” Lucas threw his arms up. “Did you take Lucille here?”

Eliott wrinkled his nose. “No, of course not. You’re the first.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

Lucas turned away from him, looking at the graffiti that lined the tunnel. “Lucille was your girlfriend for two years, Idriss and Sofiane have been your friends since you were kids, I’ve known you as long as the rest of the gang, what qualifies me to see this part of you that you haven’t shared with anyone else?”

“You’re different, L, you know that,” Eliott said with a sigh. Lucas did kind of have a point, though. He’d never even considered taking anyone else here, even when he’d thought that maybe Lucille would be his forever.

“How am I different?” Lucas asked earnestly, but Eliott didn’t really have an answer.

“I don’t know,” he said, “How am I different for you?”

Lucas bit his lip. “Who said you were?”

Eliott shot him an unamused glare. “L.”

“El,” Lucas mocked, plopping himself down against the wall of the tunnel. Eliott took a seat beside him, taking it as a good sign that Lucas didn’t move away. He didn’t know why Lucas was raising such a fuss over the whole thing, he’d just wanted to do something to show Lucas how much their friendship meant to him.

“L,” Eliott repeated, turning his head to face Lucas.

Lucas turned to look at him in return, raising his eyebrows in question. Eliott continued, “If you want to leave, we can.”

Lucas shook his head subtly. “No, I’m sorry. I’m glad you brought me here, really, I just don’t know why I was the lucky soul invited into the secret world of Eliott Demaury.”

“Because you’re the most important person in my life,” Eliott said simply.

Lucas’ head shot back up as he turned to look at Eliott again. “One of,” he said quietly.

“What?” Eliott asked.

“One of,” Lucas repeated, “That's what you said last week. One of the best things in your life.”

“I mean, yeah. Thing-wise. I do really love my art pens, you know,” Eliott explained, and revelled in the way Lucas’ lashes fanned out on his cheeks as he laughed softly.

“But you’re the most important person in my life,” he reiterated, waiting for Lucas to open his eyes. He did, and with the action came a sort of steely determination mixed with a softness they never usually possessed.

Lucas’ face suddenly seemed much closer than it had a moment ago, and Eliott found himself leaning in slightly. His eyelids became heavier, and he noticed Lucas’ were closing as well. They were so close now that the tips of their noses were touching, and Eliott felt himself holding his breath, anticipating something he didn’t even realize he was anticipating. Their noses brushed further and Eliott saw Lucas snap open his eyes.

“More important than Spiderman?” Lucas said with a cough, pulling away and leaning back against the wall. Eliott blinked a few times to clear his head. What had just happened? It almost seemed like they were about to kiss… but no, Lucas must have been teasing him, right?

Eliott settled back against the wall, releasing a breath and forcing a smile, trying to cut any lingering tension. He reached over to ruffle Lucas’ hair. “Of course you’re more important to me than Spiderman. I barely know him, for starters,” he teased.

Lucas melted into a laugh, even though it sounded a bit strained. “Oh thank goodness,” he said, folding his knees up and laying his head down on them.

Eliott had the urge to brush a strand of hair that had fallen into his eyes out of his face but refrained, choosing instead to watch Lucas, taking in all the details. He didn’t know why he refrained, he touched Lucas’ hair all the time, especially to move it from his face. Maybe he didn’t want Lucas to know that he noticed every little thing about him, especially when Lucas probably noticed every little thing about the mystery boy he was so in love with, not Eliott.

“Thank you for taking me here, El,” Lucas said softly, eyes sparkling even in the darkness. They were like stars themselves, tiny universes Eliott could see himself getting swept up in.

He pushed back his thoughts and smiled in response. “There’s no one I’d rather be on a fake date with.”

“How lucky for me,” Lucas said with a laugh.

How lucky, indeed.

🕷🕷🕷🕷

To say Eliott was avoiding Lucas would be a tad extreme. He wasn’t avoiding, per se, but he really couldn’t afford to spend any time with him at all whatsoever. He couldn’t think properly around Lucas, and he was worried that his brain might be starting to forget the “fake” part of fake dating. So, naturally, he just had to distance himself a bit, focusing on his actual crush, Spiderman. Or hopeless infatuation, whatever you wanted to call it.

During the week it was pretty easy, he claimed homework had been kicking his ass and Lucas looked at him sympathetically, wishing him luck and promising he’d be there if Eliott needed anything at all. Nights were a bit boring without anyone to hang out with, because he hadn’t wanted to call anyone else lest they tell Lucas and Lucas realize he was lying about being busy, but at least he’d had some alone time to work on his art.

However, he and Lucas were supposed to have their second date that night, one that Lucas planned, and stay over at Lucas’ flat for the night because they had nowhere to be the next morning and Manon had said she was planning on making muffins.

He fired off a quick text to Lucas once he got back to his flat from running errands, wondering how much time he had before Lucas would expect him over.

Eliott: what time should i meet u at the colloc?

Lucas: I’ll pick you up! ;)))

Eliott: pick me up…

Lucas: Just be ready at 19h, ok?

Eliott refrained from asking more questions, only because he knew it would give Lucas an opportunity to confuse him further, but he’d honestly just assumed they’d have a movie “date” at the colloc or something. Lucas was never much of a planner, particularly regarding dates.

He sighed a bit fondly, unpacking his groceries bit by bit. A piece of paper fluttered out of one of the bags, and Eliott reached down for it with a frown. Once he had it in his hands he read it through about seven times before he even began to process what it was saying. How had he not noticed it being slipped into his groceries?

Eliott,

Long time no talk, I’m starting to think you’ve forgotten about me :( just kidding no one could ever forget about me muahaha. Sorry, that was weird. Fuck, this whole thing is weird I should just start over. Sorry. One sec.

Eliott,

It’s been a while, unless you count the time some winged dude tried to kill me and you watched it happen. Not one of my finest moments, but I got him in the end, right? Anyway, I was wondering if you would want to hang out or something tonight. I don’t have much time, but if you’re down, meet me in the alley behind your flat at 19h. God, that sounds creepy as hell, I swear I’m not a serial killer, I’m a superhero, remember? If you aren’t there, I don’t blame you, but if you are, I can’t wait!

-Spiderman

Eliott had two defined options, but he was still struggling with making a decision. He could go on his date with Lucas and forget he’d ever seen the note, which was kind of what he wanted to do, or he could meet up in secret with Spiderman. He shook his head, trying to think straight. What he should be doing is going to meet Spiderman, he was head over heels for Spiderman, not Lucas. He could hang out with Lucas anytime. Plus, Lucas had already rescheduled one of their dates, so he didn’t need to feel bad about doing the same.

He pulled out his phone before he could overthink further and sent Lucas a message.

Eliott: hey, can we rescedule? something came up :(

Eliott: *reschedule

Lucas: Is everything ok?

Eliott: yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it, just need a raincheck

Lucas: Ok…

Lucas: Yeah, whatever, no big deal

Eliott: thank u thank u <333

Lucas: :)

He didn’t take the time to decipher Lucas’ message, knowing that a smiley face from Lucas was usually a sign of him being passive aggressive. Whatever, he had no right to be mad, if he even was. Maybe Lucas could use the extra time to hang out with the boy he was so interested in.

The clock moved way too slowly while Eliott got ready to meet Spiderman, butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. Was this a date? He’d told Spiderman he had a boyfriend, but he wasn’t sure Spiderman would remember.

He changed his outfit approximately nine times, trying to decide if he should be cool casual, trendy casual, trying too hard casual, not at all casual, or not trying enough casual. In the end he just slipped on his black ripped jeans with a black hoodie and his big brown jacket thrown over the ensemble.

He had been fussing over his outfit so long he didn’t even realize that he had two minutes before he was supposed to meet Spiderman. Only taking time to grab his phone, not even locking the door behind him, Eliott rushed down the stairs and around the building, finding a smaller figure laden in his usual uniform (costume?) waiting for him.

“Thought you’d bail on me,” Spiderman said as he approached, and his voice sounded different again than it had the other times they’d spoken.

Eliott pointed it out. “I understand the secrecy, but why does your voice change every time I see you?”

“I’m working on it,” Spiderman said with a sigh. He gestured to his face. “There’s supposed to be technology in here that warps my voice but I haven’t quite figured it out yet so I always end up sounding different.”

“I don’t mind if you don’t use it with me,” Eliott said.

Spiderman laughed, pointing a finger at him. “Nice try.”

Eliott hadn’t been trying anything, really, even if it would be nice to know who was behind the mask. If their friendship— or whatever it was they had going on— continued to grow, he expected to find out who Spiderman was at some point, but it didn’t have to be anytime soon if it made Spiderman uncomfortable. “So what are we doing?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Talking,” Spiderman said simply.

“Talking?”

“Ever heard of it? It’s when your voice box vibrates and you move your mouth and suddenly noise comes out in the form of words.”

Eliott squinted his eyes. “That was the weirdest way to describe talking that I’ve ever heard. At least now I know you’re not an L student.”

“Maybe I’m bamboozling you into thinking I’m not when I actually am,” Spiderman suggested.

“Well, if you were, you wouldn’t admit it, so I’m guessing S student,” Eliott inferred, laughing as Spiderman huffed and crossed his arms.

“Fuck you.”

“Spiderman, the children!” Eliott exclaimed with another laugh. Something about the fact Spiderman swore so much was hilarious to him.

“Fuck them kids,” Spiderman said seriously, before a small giggle escaped him. It sort of reminded Eliott of the way Lucas laughed, giggles coming in small spurts before he broke down into heaving laughter.

“Quite the role model,” Eliott teased, looking over at him through his eyelashes.

Spiderman scoffed and tipped his head back, leaning against the wall. “I already told you I never signed up to be a role model. Wouldn’t know how to be one even if I tried.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Just trust me on this one, I can barely live my own life without fucking it all up.” His tone was sad and Eliott wanted to comfort him in some way, but wasn’t sure how to. He understood that Spiderman wouldn’t give him any personal life details, but it was hard to know what someone needed if they couldn’t tell you what was wrong.

Instead, he opted for a small shrug, leaning against the wall beside Spiderman and said, “I don’t believe that for a second, but if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”

Spiderman’s fingers brushed against Eliott’s ever so slightly before flinching away, almost as if he’d been burned. Eliott didn’t comment on it, but he also didn’t want Spiderman to feel like he couldn’t be a source of comfort, even platonically.

“What about you?” Spiderman asked, “Do you need to talk about anything?”

Only that he was falling for someone he knew absolutely nothing about other than the fact that they were sixteen and had superpowers, wasn’t quite sure where his and Lucas’ relationship stood at the moment, was struggling a bit in school because he’d been so stressed out recently, and, oh yeah, was bipolar. How did he tell Spiderman something like that? He’d probably never want to see him again.

“Too many things,” Eliott confessed.

Spiderman nodded as if he understood, and that was enough for Eliott at the moment. “I’ll be here to listen when you’re ready too then,” Spiderman said.

Eliott made a spur of the moment decision, not thinking it through before he reached out and folded Spiderman’s hand in his. Spiderman’s eyes widened and Eliott was struck but how expressive he could be even in a mask.

“What are you doing?” Spiderman asked in a low voice. Eliott opened his mouth to answer but he couldn’t find the right words. Spiderman continued, “You have a boyfriend, Eliott.”

He did, but he didn’t. In all fairness, he wasn’t doing anything wrong here. For all he knew, Lucas was with his mystery boy right now too. “It’s complicated,” Eliott said at last, gazing at Spiderman with a burning intensity. One of their rules had been to never reveal the truth of the fake relationship to anyone, but it was a bit frustrating not to at that moment.

“I really wish I knew your name,” Eliott sighed, and felt Spiderman’s fingers wrap around his.

“I’m sorry I can’t tell you,” Spiderman said in a soft, barely audible tone of voice. “I don’t think you’d like me if you knew.”

“And do you want me to like you?” Eliott asked, inching closer, only a little bit.

“Close your eyes,” Spiderman whispered, and Eliott obliged, shutting his eyes softly just as a hand ran through his hair. He stood as still as possible, eyes still closed, heart rate picking up slightly as the hand in his hair came to rest on his face, picking up even more when he felt breath on his face. He didn’t dare open his eyes, but if he was feeling breath on his face that meant Spiderman’s mask was off.

A siren blared in the distance and the hand disappeared from Eliott face. He opened his eyes instinctively, catching Spiderman pulling his mask over his chin before he looked away, trying not to make Spiderman think he’d been trying to catch him without a mask on. Unless he was completely mistaken, Spiderman had been close to kissing him.

“I should go,” Spiderman said, voice hard and empty. He stiffened a bit, almost like he was cold or something.

“Ok,” Eliott said, not finding the words he wanted to say. Did he want Spiderman to stay? Did he want them to kiss? He thought he did, but there was still a small part of himself that had been holding back. He called out just as Spiderman turned to walk away, “Hey, wait!”

Spiderman turned back around slowly, looking at him. Eliott shrugged off his jacket and tossed it to him. “You were shivering, I thought this might help.”

Spiderman held the jacket gingerly, looking it over, and Eliott worried he might have been a little too forward. Maybe Spiderman’s suit could regulate his body temperature and the gesture was pointless. But then, after a moment, Spiderman shrugged the jacket on, drowning in it a bit given their height difference, and turned away again.

“See you later, Eliott,” Spiderman said as he walked down the alley, turning back once to look at Eliott as he went. Eliott merely lifted a hand in a small wave, utterly paralyzed by what had almost happened and how he felt about it all. He was also a little bit cold now that he’d given his jacket away.

He pulled out his phone with slightly shaky hands.

Eliott: hey can i come over?

Eliott: i need to talk

He waited for a response, bouncing his phone against his leg and pacing up and down the alley. He didn’t want to go inside yet, but he didn’t know where else to go. His phone buzzed after about ten minutes and he sighed with relief at the message on the screen.

Lucas: Of course

L🕷U🕷C🕷A🕷S

He didn’t really know what he’d been thinking. Everything had been a mess since their first fake date, Lucas knew that. He knew Eliott better than anyone, so he knew when Eliott was trying to avoid him.

He was an idiot, really, for thinking that the fact that Eliott had taken him to his refuge, that they’d almost kissed, meant that Eliott might actually have real feelings for him. He’d almost thought, before they went to the petite ceinture, that Eliott was taking him to their bench to confess that he had feelings for Lucas. If he had, Lucas would have done the same, maybe even telling Eliott that he was Spiderman.

Eliott probably hadn’t even thought that they’d almost kissed, he probably blew off the whole thing. Not because he didn’t care, but because he just didn’t see Lucas like that. Lucas still had to know for sure though, which was why he’d left that note in Eliott’s grocery bag, against his better judgement. Just to see if Eliott would choose him if given the chance.

Surprise, surprise, he didn’t.

He’d shown up as Spiderman with the full intention of blowing Eliott’s interest off, coming off as aloof and unattainable, but the moment Eliott had come out of his building that resolve had disappeared and Lucas had played into everything he had told himself he wouldn’t. He even nearly revealed himself, kissed Eliott as someone other than himself. If they hadn’t been interrupted, he probably would have, and he didn’t know what that said about him.

It was also frustrating to him in some ways that Eliott hadn’t figured it out yet. Sure, he had a masked face and voice, but he spoke in a way with Eliott that was much more intimate than a proper stranger would have. There were times when he would catch Eliott looking at him funny and he’d think that Eliott had figured it out, but he never quite put two and two together.

If Eliott was Spiderman, Lucas was certain he’d have figured it out by now.

Lucas had thankfully had time to change out of his suit and into regular clothes and hide the jacket Eliott had given Spiderman in the back of his closet by the time Eliott knocked on the door to the flatshare, hands fluttering at his sides and an indecipherable expression on his face. It was a good thing Mika, Manon, and Lisa were already in their rooms for the night because he barely said hello before making his way into Lucas’ room, flopping face first on the bed as Lucas closed the door behind them.

“Everything ok?” Lucas asked hesitantly.

Eliott’s voice came muffled by the comforter, but Lucas could get the general idea of what he was saying. “I almost kissed Spiderman. Or, he almost kissed me. I don’t really know.”

Lucas’ surprise was genuine, he hadn’t been expecting Eliott to just come right out and say it. Then again, why wouldn’t he? He didn’t know that it would hurt Lucas to hear he’d come close to kissing someone else (even if that someone else was him).

“Um, ok. That’s new,” Lucas said, sitting down on the bed. Eliott poked his head up and looked at Lucas before laying it back down on one of his arms.

“I’m so confused,” he mumbled.

Lucas furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why are you confused?” Lucas laid down beside him, head propped up on one arm just like Eliott. “If you like Spiderman, shouldn’t you be excited you almost kissed him?”

Eliott blinked once, frowning. “Oh.”

“I’m not saying you can’t be confused, I’m just asking why,” Lucas reiterated.

Eliott’s face flushed bright red and his eyes zoned out a little bit. He didn’t answer, and Lucas tried not to wonder why. Maybe Eliott was falling for Arthur or something too, he wouldn’t be surprised.

“I’m sorry for cancelling our date,” Eliott said after a while. Lucas blinked up at him in surprise, then shrugged.

“Don’t be, you almost kissed Spiderman.”

Eliott sighed and laid on his back. “Yeah, but I like hanging out with you too.”

“You can hang out with me anytime, El,” Lucas countered. He wasn’t sure why he was fighting Eliott on this, but he didn’t want Eliott to feel like he had to hang out with him out of obligation. If Eliott was ever going to fall for him, he couldn't force it.

Eliott said nothing more on the matter, choosing instead to settle into the bed further. “Can I stay here tonight?” he asked.

“Of course,” Lucas responded immediately, “Do you need clothes to sleep in?”

“A t shirt, maybe,” Eliott requested, and Lucas went to his closet to grab one of the ones Eliott had left over at his house at some point that he’d reclaimed as his own.

When Eliott put it on he frowned at the length in confusion. “Why does this fit me?”

“Because it’s yours,” Lucas giggled, seeing Eliott’s face go from shocked to amused.

“You little—”

“Oh, what, like you don’t have any of my clothes at your place?” Lucas accused with a laugh. Eliott didn’t have a comeback for that because he knew it was true. Every time Lucas couldn’t find something in his closet or his drawers he could bet it was sitting somewhere forgotten at Eliott’s flat.

It was a release, to fall back into this easy pattern of teasing one another. Lucas really wasn’t in the mood to comfort or give Eliott advice on how to make someone else fall in love with him. He really didn’t act differently under the guise of Spiderman, though, which was another reason Lucas was appalled Eliott hadn’t figured it out yet. How could Eliott fall for a version of him wearing a mask before the real version?

Eliott slipped out of his jeans and Lucas did the same, both of them falling on their respective sides of the bed. Lucas was pressed nearly to the edge of his side, trying to avoid contact with Eliott at all costs, serial cuddler that he was.

Eliott clearly noticed, because when he opened his eyes he was met with the sight of Eliott trying to hold back a grin. “What?” Lucas asked defensively.

“Nothing, nothing,” Eliott said nonchalantly, schooling his face into a neutral expression.

He sighed. “Eliott…”

“You’re so far over you look like you’re about to fall off the bed,” Eliott said with a small laugh.

“Only because you’ll hog all the covers if I don’t mark my space,” Lucas shot back, a poor excuse, but one that Eliott accepted without complaint. Instead, he moved closer into Lucas’ space.

“If we’re closer we can share better,” he reasoned, which, admittedly, made more sense. It did nothing for Lucas’ racing heart though. Only because he was panicking a little bit, Lucas reached out and poked Eliott in the stomach, knowing he was ticklish.

Eliott let out an offended peal of laughter. “Dude! You know I’m ticklish!”

“Duh, that’s why I poked you.”

“Oh, you’re asking for it now…”

Lucas widened his eyes at the mischievous expression on Eliott’s face. “El… no, don’t—”

Sure, Eliott was ticklish, but that didn’t mean Lucas wasn’t equally as ticklish. Within seconds they were engaged in quite the tickling fight. Actually, it was more of a tickling war than a fight, Eliott reaching and poking Lucas as he curled into a ball and tried to find Eliott’s blind spots, poking him back where he could when he could.

They were both laughing breathlessly, partially at the tickling and partially because Eliott had noted that Lucas had curled up like a hedgehog at the first given opportunity. He may have complained when Eliott had first assigned his spirit animal, but time had only proven how accurate the assessment had been.

Eliott gained the advantage, positioning himself on top of Lucas and pinning his arms down. Eliott didn’t seem to realize what position they were in, but it was all Lucas could notice. He stopped fighting at the same time his heart stopped beating, Eliott’s face smiling brighter than the sun above him, his hands held down by Eliott’s, fitting together like they were made to hold one another.

“Ok, you win,” Lucas said quickly, shifting his body so Eliott rolled off him swiftly and abruptly. Lucas faced his body away from Eliott, screwing his eyes shut and refusing to turn around, not wanting to see the look on Eliott’s face.

It took a moment, but finally there was a shift in the weight distribution on the mattress as Eliott settled himself back down into bed. “Goodnight, El,” Lucas said, trying to keep the quaver in his voice to a minimum as he reached over to turn off his bedside lamp.

“Night, L,” Eliott responded in a voice that was equally as falsely casual. The lamp clicked off, leaving them engulfed in darkness, both on complete opposite sides of the bed. Good, Lucas wasn’t sure he could have survived anything else.

Before he drifted off, though, it was hard for him to keep himself from imagining a world where he woke up engulfed in Eliott’s arms, bodies pressed together and clicking into place like puzzle pieces finding their homes.

#skam france #elu fic #elu spiderman au #with great power #elu #eliott demaury #lucas lallemant

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alteredphoenix · 5 years

Text

Shining Heart (Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha/MCU!Iron Man one-shot WIP)

A very, very early WIP (if I ever bother to go through the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe; from what films I’ve seen so far, only the first Captain American film stands out to me, and I couldn’t stand Guardians of the Galaxy Part 1 after the first fifteen minutes in), with only an equally brief summary on the document:

“Nanoha’s Linker Core is more damaged than in canon. Tony Stark makes her an offer she really can’t refuse.”

I’m not sure what would’ve come after that, although I did plan for Nanoha to take up his offer anyway and get her own Arc Reactor (because in this AU her heart was damn near destroyed and managed to pull through by sheer luck post-A’s). Since Nanoha is around 12 at the time of her hospitalization from the Type-IV Gadget Drone, and the Infinity Saga in the MCU lasts roughly ten years in the modern era (2008-2018), she would be 22 at the time of “Endgame” and Tony Stark’s death - about a couple years before Force (if that’s still even considered canon nowadays).

I like to think, in one scenario, she’d survive the Snap and be present at the moment of his passing with Spiderman and the others. Nanoha would also be a family friend of the Starks afterwards, although it’s hard to say right now if the MCU is really going to have the post-Infinity Saga phase go up to 2028. (Although I really like the idea of Vivio and her girl posse making friends with Morgan and maybe teach her MMA shit and magical girl warfare, so there’s that.)

#magical girl lyrical nanoha #marvel #iron man #nanoha takamachi #shining heart #fanfiction #preview #mywriting

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brooklynislandgirl · 3 months

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"Wait, Beth, hold up -- just, hang on a second."

Peter's stammering, not entirely polite request for Beth to stop walking away may as well be directed at the wall beside them, and he knows it better than virtually any of their professors. Likely as not, it's that much easier for her to make the gesture of turning away from him when the fact is she simply can't hear him... at least, not properly. It doesn't matter that there's no one else on this dormitory floor at this time of day. The entire building could be empty save for them and the sound of his voice would come across as an unintelligible warble if she wasn't facing him.

He scampers in a wide arc around her to put himself in front of her before she can turn the corner and retreat to the elevators.

"Wait," he says again, a flummoxed look on his face. "Please. I know... I know I've been chilly lately. Okay? I get it, and I know you miss me. I've been missing you too. I just... I've been having a hard time. Figuring things out. Figuring myself out. Worrying about May. I..."

The more words emerge from his mouth, the more he realizes how flimsy it all sounds. Beth has been his best friend for going on ten years. He could have made an effort to at least say something to her. Tell her he needed time for himself. Tell her he was okay.

Even if it wasn't true. Even if he's spent the last five months nursing bruises beneath his double-layered shirts, swollen knuckles beneath his sleeves, and jagged scars across his heart.

The look on her face says to him that she doesn't need another ghost in her life.

Or maybe he's saying it to himself on her behalf. Because right now, he has no idea what she wants to say. All he can see is a great gaping wound in her expression. Like he's torn her open without so much as leaving a mark.

"I'm sorry." He lifts his hands, palms up, almost like he's holding an invisible basketball out to her. It's the posture of a man who doesn't know what to say that will make it better. "Beth... I'm sorry. You deserve better than... whatever this is."

Lost Sparks || Accepting

Head down, book bag heavy over one shoulder, her eyes kept on the few steps ahead of her of the tip of her shoes, she could almost pretend she doesn't hear him. She does, though, even if she doesn't really catch more than his tone and the sound of her name. For a few seconds she considers continue walking on. She tries to justify the feeling by telling herself that she doesn't want to be late for class; being aware of every minute and knowing that being early is on time, that on time is late having been drilled into her since she was little. That is easier than admitting that her feelings are skinned down to the bones. Instinctively she draws herself up tighter, shoulders drawing inward and fingers curling around the straps of her bag. She should have expected that when she didn't stop immediately ~likely used to her turning on a dime, holding her arms out to greet him as she's done since they were little~ that he'd corral her in the hallway. She shuffles to a halt. Stares hard at the slate blue-grey, cream and brown coloured carpet that muffles their steps. The same colours that are reflected in the actual walls with their brown doors, cream coloured walls, and that same blue of door frames and crown moulding. It isn't easy though and she looks up in time to see his mouth moving. Chilly is an understatement. She's barely seen him since they enrolled over the summer. It's true that she's missed him but she suspects that the same isn't true for him despite what he says on the very next breath. It hurts to hear that he's been struggling. She gets that but she's been struggling too. The day after helping her move into the dorm, Andy'd gone out and spoken to a recruiter. Two days after that, he was on his way to Lackland Air Force Base. The Admiral thankfully returned to DC as soon as her brother got on his bus. The friends she has outside of Peter ended up going to their universities too, and the girl who is her roommate is someone who isn't interested in making new friends, and is barely there to sleep most days. Her lips purse, brows knit above too-wide eyes. Beth hasn't gained the infamous freshman-fifteen. If anything, she seems thinner yet. Her features are sharper now which makes her expression seem haunted. And when he begins to apologise in earnest? She blinks once, twice. Her gaze is flooded by the sea, held back by the dam of her lower lids but just barely. Her lower lip trembles. She takes a sobering breath and it ends in a sniffle, her nostrils flaring. "I'm sorry, too, for not…reachin' out harder. It hasn't been…" She shrugs, an ungainly shift of her shoulders. "Is May okay? She's not…sick or anything, is she?"

#Mahalo!M <333 #Hoapili|Peter Parker #All For One|Peter and Beth #Fifteen For A Moment|Spiderman au #Brooklyn Stories|New York

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spideyandstark · 6 years

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Have you seen those gifsets going around in that really awesome superfamily au, where steve/tony find out that peter is spiderman???? Could you write what you think would happen next? (Or maybe how they first heard of/started working with the spiderman)

Omg, I love those gifsets!! Ah, superfamily is amazing, great prompt Anon :)

Tony and Steve had started working with the guy named Spider-Man after he’d saved the Avengers’ stuff on moving day by bringing down a hijacked plane. Tony had been impressed, and Steve had been grateful. They’d told the Spider-Man to give them a call.

(Tony had commented on how crappy the guy’s suit was, and told him his teenage kid, Peter, could do better. The guy had laughed and agreed in his low-pitched tone. Tony worked on the new suit with his kid. Peter continuously asked about how good Spider-Man was in combat.)

“Tony,” says Steve through the comms. The whirring of Iron Man’s repulsers fire up in the background, and tear through an alien’s spleen. It’s accompanied by a high-pitched squeal.

Spider-Man says: “That was so gross.”

The smirk is audible in Tony’s voice as he answers Steve: “Yep?”

“They’ve got tech,” Steve murmurs, slamming down on an alien’s head with his shield.

“So have we,” Tony responds. They’re fighting in a large, evacuated area of the city. Tony watches as Spider-Man webs two of the aliens together and continues swinging between buildings, small and agile. “We’ve got this covered, babe.”

“Just be careful.”

“Ah,” says Tony. “No promises.”

They’ve nearly accounted for all of them when Spider-Man yells out a warning. Steve glances up and watches as an explosion tears through the bottom of a skyscraper, gearing it towards them. Tony soars towards Steve and holds up an armoured arm, and the nanotech spills gracefully from it to form a shield around the two of them. The force of the rubble hits them hard, but Tony keeps his arm up, and for the most part the shield protects them from the blast.

When he’s certain the downpour has ceased, Tony speaks into the comms: “You good, Spider-Man?”

There’s no response on his end. Steve glances up at Tony worriedly, and the faceplate slips off the latter’s face to offer him a comforting smile.

“FRIDAY, connect to Karen. Read Spider-Man’s vitals.”

“Spider-Man appears to be experiencing an elevated heart rate and is hyperventilating.”

Steve’s expression perfectly matches that of an injured puppy’s. “Spider-Man?” he starts, tentatively.

When he doesn’t respond, Tony grimaces and gazes up at his shield again. “FRI, is it safe to move?”

“There’s rubble directly above you, boss,” she says. “I would recommend removing the shield from the left side first. You should wear your faceplate to avoid dust inhalation and subsequent suffocation.”

Tony glances softly at Steve. “Form another helmet,” he murmurs. The nanotechnology spills onto the floor and forms something just slightly less extravagant than Tony’s own faceplate, but it’s enough to filter out any dust. Steve watches in poorly-suppressed awe.

“You really are amazing,” he says.

Tony’s own faceplate materialises back over his face as he shrugs. “I try my best.”

The shield comes up on the left side, and Steve slips out while Tony continues wielding the weight above them. He manages to move the debris away so that Tony can finally relax. He does so, and gazes at Steve in his Iron Man helmet for a few moments, before nervously biting his lip behind his own mask.

“FRIDAY, stats on Spider-Man.”

“He’s lost consciousness, boss. He isn’t breathing.”

“Shit,” hisses Tony. “Where is he?”

FRIDAY zooms in on a large piece of rubble. Tony nods towards it, and Steve heads over in a jog, Tony following behind. Together they lift a large slab of debris away.

Spider-Man is almost curled into himself in the tiny space, his hands clenched up by his face. There’s a metal pole shoved through his abdomen and Tony wants to be sick. It is only when his eyes trail up to the mask that he really does throw up - it’s been pulled off, probably in his attempt to breathe - and the pale, bloodied face belongs to none other than Peter -

Their son.

Steve sways and puts a hand on Tony’s shoulder, partly to steady himself, and partly to comfort the man who is bent over heaving. Hot tears prick at the back of Tony’s eyes.

“Shit,” he hisses again. “Shit, shit, fuck - how - fuck, Steve -”

“Tony, Tony, get him back to the lab, now - oh my God -” Steve runs a hand down his face. “You can do it, alright, I’ll catch up to you, go, Tony -”

“I should’ve realised, holy fuck Steve, he’s our fucking kid -”

“I know, I know.” There are tears running down Steve’s face. “You need to stop panicking, you can’t afford to do that right now, he’s not breathing, Tony, he’s not -”

Tony heaves in a broken breath and kneels down beside Peter, ignoring the twisted pole, and gently brushing a lock of hair from the teenager’s face. “Jesus Christ,” he cries. “Jesus Christ, Pete, breathe.”

Tony steps out of the suit. There’s still dust in the air, but fuck it. He holds Peter’s nose and delivers two sharp breaths into his lungs while Steve kneels down on his other side and makes strong compressions on the kid’s sturdy ribs. Neither of them mention the tears tracking clear rivulets down their otherwise dust-stained faces. They work in complete silence save for the occasional sob as time ticks on.

Then Peter takes a spluttering breath and Tony’s hands shakily cup the kid’s head, stroking his hair while he cries over and over and over again, each rendition more heart-wrenching than the last: “Oh, Peter, oh, Peter, Peter, Pete-”

Steve blocks Peter’s view of his abdomen and tightly squeezes the kid’s hand in his own. “You’re gonna be okay,” he says. “We promise, Peter.”

Peter’s head lolls back in Tony’s hand. “S-Shit,” he murmurs shakily.

“Shit is right,” says Tony sharply, but Steve knows the anger will come later, when Peter’s okay. He doesn’t berate Peter’s language this once.

“Tony, we need to get him back to the compound,” says Steve softly. He rests his free hand on Tony’s shoulder and squeezes to release some of the tension there. “We can talk about this later.”

Tony looks broken. Peter tries to look at Steve instead, but he sees the metal poking out from his stomach and his eyes roll back in his head. Tony sobs and pulls him close.

“I-I’ll get him back. I’ll come back for you.”

“That’s fine, Tony. He’s going to be okay.”

Tony only offers him a shaky nod and stands up, his repulsers firing up. He holds the kid close. He’s gone in seconds.

When Tony returns for Steve, the soldier is sitting on a slab of concrete, his face in his hands. Tony merely extends an arm and pulls him up wordlessly, and they go back to the compound together, and briefly Steve wonders if the suit is the only thing keeping Tony upright.

Bruce Banner is working silently on Peter in the lab. The scientist himself looks distraught; Peter’s become something of a nephew to him, and he doesn’t want the kid to be in pain.

Tony sits and he waits and he waits. He sits at the side of Peter’s bed once Bruce has finished the surgery. He doesn’t sleep. Steve sits beside him, tracing comforting circles on his hands. Their stares are blank. Sometimes they whisper to each other and kiss and sometimes Tony rests his head in Steve’s lap, but he never sleeps, and neither does the captain.

Then Peter wakes up, and it’s slow and groggy and painful, and no one says a word, and Tony’s jittering from the coffee and Steve is barely keeping his eyes open but the sight of his kid is a good enough aid. They say nothing, but Steve senses Tony’s anger in his tensed muscles, and everything is red, red, red but there’s still silence. The red lingers in the air. Peter wants to choke.

“M’sorry,” he says eventually, and that’s when the talking starts.

“You’re Spider-Man,” says Tony disbelievingly. “All this fucking time. I worked on your fucking suit with you Peter, and you said nothing, you fucking -”

“Tony,” breathes Steve. “He’s fifteen.”

Tony glares at him. “That’s exactly my fucking point. He’s fifteen. Fucking kid. Could’ve died. Our kid.” The red fades into blue, disappointment and fear and sadness. Tony rubs his temples. “What would we have done if you’d’ve died, Pete, you ever think about that?”

Peter murmurs: “I didn’t die.”

“No, you zip it. You were this close. You weren’t breathing.”

Peter bites his lip and gazes at Steve, who sighs and positions himself on the end of Peter’s bed. Tony remains standing.

“Peter,” he says gently. “You know you should’ve told us, right? That was -”

“Oh my God,” says Tony suddenly, and Steve gazes up at him. “Oh my God, the fucking plane crash, that was you -”

“Tony, he’s just woken up. He’s safe, that’s all that matters right now.”

“Where’s Banner?” Tony slumps down into the seat beside Peter’s bed and closes his eyes painfully. “I’m having a fucking heart attack.”

Steve almost smiles, but it doesn’t reach his face. He’s too worried and he feels the anger too but it’s tugging at his heart, it’s betrayal, it’s -

“Why couldn’t you tell us, Peter?”

Peter’s eyes trail down to his hands. “I was - I wanted to h-help people. I was scared you wouldn’t let me.”

“How did you even become a goddamn spider kid?” asks Tony.

“I got - I got bitten -”

“Jesus Christ.” He leans forward and rests his face in his hands.

“One question at a time,” sighs Steve. “Peter. You know we… we couldn’t have stopped you. We just needed to know where you were.”

“I thought you were doing fucking drugs,” says Tony. He laughs bitterly. “Oh God, I wish that were true.”

Peter looks like he’s about to cry. “I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry.”

“Language is for me only, kid,” says Tony, as Steve raises an eyebrow.

“Okay,” says Peter, lowering his gaze. “Okay, Dad, I’m sorry. Please, just let me keep doing this.”

Tony opens his mouth to object, but Steve gets there first. “You need to rest, Peter. We’ll discuss it when you wake up. For now, you’re not going out for a while.”

Peter nods graciously, and a few tears spill down his cheeks.

“Does it hurt?” asks Tony suddenly. He doesn’t meet Peter’s eyes.

“A little,” he says. “I’m okay.”

Tony breathes deeply and leans over and pushes some curls from Peter’s eyes. Steve watches sadly.

“You’re a strong kid,” murmurs Tony. He looks like he’s going to expand on that, but he just shakes his head to himself and sighs. “Go to sleep.”

Peter winces as he tries to position himself comfortably. His grip on Steve’s hand doesn’t falter. He buries his face in the cushions and says: “Night, Dads. I’m sorry.”

He’s out in seconds. Steve presses a comforting kiss to Tony’s lips.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers as they break apart.

Tony gazes back into his eyes, and Steve sees resolve, and protection, and love. Somehow, Tony finds the strength within himself to offer him a tiny smirk, the corners of his mouth barely twitching upwards.

“Guess this is the fucking family business. I don’t know what I expected.”

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hymn2000 · 5 years

Text

Hope I’ve Got Something To Lose - MCU AU fanfic

Story overview: Peter has an accident, and Tony makes a drastic decision.

Part of my irondad and spiderson series.

Warnings/themes: injury, hospital stuff, hurt/comfort, mental health stuff

You can also find me on AO3

Chapter 1 - Big Trouble To Come

Loki stopped on the upstairs landing when he heard the front door go.

“Peter?”

There was no reply. A brief silence followed, and then a crash.

“Peter!” Loki called again.

He went to the top of the stairs - and froze, just for a second.

“PETER!!”

Loki vaulted the banister, landing by the front mat and falling to his knees in front of Peter. Loki couldn’t speak. He had his hands poised but couldn’t bring himself to touch him. He just froze. Peter was collapsed against the wall, his mask pulled up, exposing half of his face. His suit was ripped right through the front - and his body too. He looked so weak, blood soaked, breathing heavily, trembling...

“Loki?” Tony called, his voice filling the horribly quiet foyer. “Loki, is everything alright?”

Loki still couldn’t speak, and then he heard footsteps, and Tony’s voice sounded again, much closer this time.

“Loki? Lo- oh my god, Peter!”

He rushed down the stairs and collapsed onto his knees, pulling Peter’s mask off and taking the boys bloodied face in his shaking hands.

“Peter? Peter, sweetheart, talk to me. What’s happened? Sweetheart?!”

Peter looked at him, but his eyes didn’t seem to focus. He couldn’t manage so much as a whimper.

“Ok sweetheart, ok, we’re gonna get you some help. You’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be ok. Hold on darling, let’s get this off you”

Tony tugged the Spiderman suit off the boy, and as the material was peeled off the wounds and Tony saw the extent of the damage, Peter starting crying, his arm jerking up and trying to push Tony’s hand away.

“Oh god. Oh god, Peter, what the hell happened?!” Tony almost shouted.

He was panicking, his whole body shaking. He pulled his hoodie off, pressing it hard against the worst of the wounds on the boys front. He looked frantically at Loki, who didn’t seem to have moved at all.

“Loki! Loki, don’t just sit there! Call an ambulance!”

Loki barely seemed to register what was being said, but his eyes moved. He looked at Tony, and then back at Peter, whose poor face (and body, for that matter) was more red than white. Tony saw the look in Loki’s eyes. He pressed down hard on the hoodie with one hand and reached for his own phone with the other, his fingers fumbling on the keypad, his hand shaking as he held the phone to his ear.

“Ambulance service, is the patient breathing?”

“Yes. It’s my son, he’s been in an accident. I-I-I, I don’t know, we don’t know what happened, he’s hurt, there’s so much blood, he’s not properly alert. He’s fifteen. Peter? Peter! Stay with me, stay with me! Oh sweetheart, please, open your eyes! Just keep looking at me, kiddo. You need to stay awake”

“We’re arranging help for you, sir. What’s the address of the emergency?”

The tension in the relatives room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Loki sat on the seat in the corner, staring at nothing while Tony paced the room like a caged animal, biting his thumb. The ticking of the clock and Tony’s footsteps on the carpet were the only sounds in the room.

“He arrested, Lolly” Tony said suddenly, stopping and breaking the silence.

He sat down beside him, grabbing him by the upper arms and looking him in the face.

“I can’t do this. We can’t lose him, we just can’t”

His shoulders started to shake, and Loki pulled him close, holding him tight against his chest, burying his face in his shoulder, and crying too.

The door to the relatives room opened, and a doctor came into the room. They both looked at him, their hearts thumping.

“What?! What is it? Is he ok? Oh god, he’s dead, isn’t he?”

“No. Mr Stark. Starks” the doctor sat down with them. “We got him back”

Tony and Loki nearly fainted with relief. They hugged each other tight, crying again.

“S-so he’s gonna be ok?” Tony said desperately.

“We’ve got every reason to be positive. Mr Stark, Peter’s heart didn’t stop because of his injuries, but because of a reaction to some of the antibiotics we gave him. We’ve stabilised him and he’s doing well. I know it was scary, but the situation has been resolved. A note will be put in his medical records so he won’t be given the same antibiotics again. We’ll be keeping an eye on him for a few hours, and we might give him some medication to take for a few days after discharge, but we’ll have to assess him again and see if he’s at risk of another attack. I can only apologise. I’m so sorry this happened”

Tony nodded, breathing quite deeply, trying to take it all in.

“A-and his injuries?”

“Nasty, but not life or limb threatening. He might end up with a little bit of scarring on his chest and tummy, but any scarring should fade in time and become barely noticeable. He’s been all cleaned up and stitched up and dressed now. He’s got a couple of broken ribs, but the scans and x-rays didn’t show up anything sinister”

“Has he said anything about what happened?”

“No. We did ask, of course, but he wouldn’t tell us. I’m afraid I don’t have any guesses either”

“Is he in pain?”

“He’s been given painkillers, so he won’t be right now. He will be when they wear off”

Tony nodded, taking a deep breath. “But he’ll be ok?”

“We’ve got every reason to believe so. Because of what happened, and because of the extent of his injuries, we’d like to keep him in overnight. We’ll find a bed on the ward for him soon”

Loki wiped his eyes, and Tony gave him a squeeze and wiped his own eyes on his sleeve. He looked back at the doctor.

“C-can we see him?” he almost whispered, his voice cracking.

“Of course” the doctor stood up, and Loki and Tony did too. “We’ve got him in a side room. With respect, I will ask you to prepare yourself. He’s on oxygen and hooked up to drips and monitors, and I know it can look pretty scary”

Loki took Tony’s hand, and they looked at each other. Tony nodded.

“We’re ready”

Peter was laid back in bed looking very weak with his eyes closed. His face was largely obscured by an oxygen mask. In contrast, the bedclothes were only pulled up to his hips, so the big wound dressings and bruises were on show.

Tony stopped just inside the room, hands over his mouth, his eyes darting between Peter and all the monitors and drips attached to him.

Loki walked over and stood on the left hand side on the bed. He rested a hand on the top of Peter’s head, and the boys eyes opened. A little smile spread over his face, and he reached up and pulled the oxygen mask down off his face.

“Dad..!”

His voice was small, a little croaky, but it was obvious he was happy to see him. Loki gave him a reassuring smile, stroking his hair softly with his palm.

“Don’t you ever do that to us again” he said gently.

“...I’m sorry” Tears pricked his eyes. “I was so scared..”

Loki rested his forehead against Peter’s. “Shh, sh sh. I’ve got you. You’re safe now”

Tony swallowed hard and approached on the right of the bed. He took hold of Peter’s hand, and Loki straightened up.

“You scared the life out of us, chick” he said, voice trembling. “Oh darling. Oh darling”

He looked back over his shoulder as he heard the door close, and they were left alone in the room. He looked back at Peter.

“Peter, what happened? Tell me exactly what happened. Who did this to you?”

“I don’t really remember” Peter lied.

Loki looked hard at him. Peter looked back. They both knew that Loki knew he was lying. Loki sighed, and kissed his forehead.

“Tony, he’s exhausted. Whatever happened, it must have been traumatic. Let him rest. He’ll probably remember in a day or two when he’s starting to get better”

Tony sighed. “I’m sorry, kiddo. We’ll talk about this later” he looked at Loki for a moment, and then back at Peter. “Let’s just focus on getting you better”

“I’ll be ok” Peter said uncertainly. “Um... can you put the bed up a bit more?”

Tony looked at Loki, and Loki put the bed up a little more and helped Peter into a better position, being incredibly careful.

“Better?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, lots. Thank you”

“Sweetheart, we were so worried” Tony said.

“It’s a good job I managed to get back to the house, eh?” Peter said, trying some feeble humour.

Tony shook his head at him. “It’s not really a laughing matter”

He looked the boy over, sighing sadly.

“Dad?”

“Are you cold? Or sore? Uncomfortable at all?”

Peter shook his head. “I’m fine dad, honestly. Well, not fine, but, uh... I’m ok”

“I’m not sure I believe you” Tony said. “You’re all wheezy”

There was a knock on the door, and a nurse and porter came into the room.

“Hello. We’ve found you a bed on the ward. We’re ready to move you upstairs now” the nurse said.

Peter started to feel funny, and his heart monitor reflected this.

“Oh dear, are you feeling nervous, pigeon?” the nurse asked, coming over to the bed. “Don’t worry, you’ll be well looked after. Now, shall we?”

Tony cleared his throat and replaced the oxygen mask over Peter’s mouth and nose.

“You’re in the best possible place, darling. They’ll look after you”

Peter started crying properly once they’d been settled in the ward side room and left alone.

“Peter?! Hey, sweetheart, shh! Oh darling, don’t cry!” Tony hugged him, a little awkwardly, as he didn’t want to lift him off the bed in case he hurt him more.

“I don’ want you to go! I don’t want to be here on my own!”

Loki slipped out of the room. He returned a few minutes later. Peter was quieter now, although still sniffling a bit. Loki poured him a glass of water and helped him to drink it.

“Now don’t look so tragic” he said. “We’re not going anywhere”

The hospital staff were surprised at Peter’s recovery. By morning, although a little peaky and a little sore, he was almost back to his usual self. He was stable, had no risk of having another anaphylactic shock, and showed no signs of anything else dangerous going on. After being thoroughly assessed, he was discharged home with a prescription of painkillers and plenty of rest.

The hospital painkillers were wearing off, and Peter wasn’t very happy when he got home. He was terribly sore and his chest ached from his broken ribs. Loki got him a glass of water and got him to take some of his prescribed pills, and then, together with Tony, very carefully got him into his pyjamas and tucked him into bed, propped up against lots of pillows as the hospital had advised. Loki sat down to the right of him, tucking his Peter Rabbit toy under one arm and his snowy seal toy under the other. Tony sat down on his left. Peter pulled his arms free from the covers, resting them atop the quilt with the baby kangaroo toy Flo had given him in his hands.

“Now, I know you’re tired and sore, sweetheart, but we really need to talk” Tony said. “What happened to you yesterday?"

Peter looked down at the kangaroo, playing with its ears.

“Peter? I know you were in shock yesterday. But do you remember what happened now?”

Peter swallowed, and nodded.

“Tell us what happened. I need to know who did this to you. If someone is after you-”

“They’re not” Peter interrupted. “Look, I got into a bit of a, uh, well, struggle, I guess, and like, well, it kinda got sorted, and it kinda didn’t, but like, well, I’m fine, y’know, so it doesn’t really matter”

“Doesn’t matter? Doesn’t matter?! Of course it matters! You could have died, Peter!” Tony shouted.

“Tony, please” Loki said. “This is hard enough without you upsetting him any further”

Tony sucked his teeth. “Sorry, sorry. Ok. So, you got into a fight”

“Struggle” Peter said, a little hesitantly. “They didn’t hurt me. Well, they did, but only a little bit”

“A little bit? Peter, we saw the state of you when you got home. Just look at yourself. That’s not just ‘a little bit’” Tony said, starting to get irate again.

“They didn’t do the big stuff, I swear! It was just, um, well, it was this old building site, yknow, abandoned and stuff, where we struggled” Peter said, looking back down at the kangaroo in his hands. “It was gonna fall on them. They were kinda not good people, but they didn’t deserve that. I just kinda pushed them out of the way without thinking, and it, well, it fell on me instead”

“What fell on you?! For gods sake Peter, just tell us!”

Peter flinched a bit at his tone, and Loki put an arm round him protectively. Tony sighed, closed his eyes for the count of ten, and then looked back at Peter.

“What fell on you? How did it fall?”

“I don’t know! It was an old building site. Everything was kinda up on like, a ledge kinda thing, just gravel and dirt and stuff, and we were down in this kinda dip below it. We must’ve disturbed the rubble or something. It was just some kind of old building site vehicle thing. I don’t know what they’re called. Just, I was in kinda an awkward place, and like, all this rubble fell when it fell, and like, I don’t know, I don’t know!”

“Shh, ok, ok, it’s alright” Tony took his phone out, getting a picture of common building site vehicles up. “Was it one of these?”

Peter looked at the picture, trying to remember.

“I think it was that one” he said, pointing to the skid steer loader. “They’re pretty scary when they’re looming above you, you know”

Tony found a photo on google images and showed it to him. “This?”

“I think so?” Peter shrugged. “I-I don’t think it was any of the other ones. I think the big spadey bit caused this” He gestured to his front. “I managed to get it off me though. Which I suppose is a bit obvious...”

“How are you so calm about this?”

“Well, I might’ve gotten hurt, but I stopped three people from getting hurt or killed, didn’t I? I was just doing the Spiderman stuff. Yknow, looking out for the little people”

Tony stared at him. Loki saw the look in his eyes, and quickly intervened.

“Peter’s exhausted” he said. “We should let him rest”

Tony tore his eyes away from Peter and looked at Loki.

“Rest. Right. Yes” he stood up, tucking the quilt over Peter’s arms again. “Rest and recover”

Loki kissed Peter on the cheek. “You shout if you need anything, anything at all, ok?”

Peter nodded. “Ok”

“Good boy. How’s the pain now?”

“Not great, but better than it was”

“Painkillers will be kicking in before long, chick. You do need to rest, though. You look so tired”

He kissed him on the cheek again, and Tony kissed his forehead.

“Sleep well, sweetie” Loki said.

“See you later, kiddo”

Peter watched them draw the curtains and turn the lights off before they left and close the door behind them. He lay back against the pillows, playing through the events of the last 24 hours in his head. He hadn’t really registered the severity of the situation. He knew what had happened. The stuff he’d missed, he’d caught up on by reading the notes at the end of the bed while Tony and Loki were asleep during the night. He’d nearly died. But it wasn’t the first time, and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last. So, he had an known allergy now. That was new. But the other stuff? Not so much. He still had heavy dressings on his chest and tummy, but he could still just about feel the bumps of the stitches under them. He had stitches on his head too, and steri-strips. He had lots of plasters and dressings all over himself. No wonder he was feeling so battered and bruised. The only thing really bothering him about the whole situation was the broken ribs. He knew they would take about six weeks to heal, meaning he probably wouldn’t be up to going out in the Spiderman suit for a while.

Ah. The Spiderman suit. Tony hadn’t mentioned it yet, but Peter knew it wasn’t in a good state. Ripped, quite badly. Dirty, definitely. Bloody - also definitely. Loki could get stains out of most anything, so maybe the dirt and blood wouldn’t be such an issue, but he wasn’t sure if the suit itself was beyond repair or not. He certainly hoped it wasn’t, but he couldn’t really remember. He hadn’t focused on the state of his suit after the incident at the building site, but on getting home unseen. He’d managed that, miraculously. But something told him that the consequences of this excursion hadn’t finished presenting themselves just yet.

Peter didn’t see Tony again that day. He was confined to bed rest and spent a lot of the day asleep, but Loki came to check on him quite frequently. He helped him drink and made him comfortable and fed him a bowl of broth, which Peter thought utterly disgusting but was told would do him good.

Midway through the afternoon Peter found himself wide awake and unable to get back to sleep. He told Loki the next time he checked on him, and Loki found a notebook and pens and they spent a long time playing noughts and crosses and hangman together. Before they knew it, it was six o’ clock.

“We need to get you fed, really” Loki said, putting the notebook aside on the bedside table. He felt Peter’s forehead. “You’re still pretty warm, but you’ve got a bit more colour in your cheeks. Still, I don’t think you should have anything too heavy. Maybe we should play it safe and just give you some more of that broth”

Peter pulled a face. “Nooo, not the broth! Anything but the broth”

Loki laughed slightly. “Ok, ok. Hmm, what shall we give you, then?”

Loki thought for a moment, trying to push the recurring ‘cheese sandwich’ thought aside for long enough to think of another option. He needed something light, but something healthy and wholesome and easy to eat and digest. He couldn’t bear it if he made his poor injured son sick on top of everything else.

“Scrambled eggs on toast?” he suggested eventually.

“With tomato sauce and lots of butter?”

“If that’s how you’d like it. You like that idea?”

Peter nodded eagerly. “I haven’t had scrambled egg on toast for ages, and you always do it so well”

“Well, you sit tight, sweetie. I’ll be as quick as I can”

Loki sat on the edge of the bed, watching the boy as he ate, one hand rested on his knee.

“Tha’ was real good. Thank you” Peter said, swallowing his last mouthful. “...Dad? Are you ok?””

Loki took his plate and moved it aside. “Not really”

“Why not? Are you getting ill again? Is it the M.E?”

Loki shook his head. “I thought I’d lost you”

Peter swallowed. “I’m ok”

“But you weren’t, not for a minute there. You’re not really ok now, are you? Look at the state of you”

“What do you mean?” Peter said, hurt. “It could’ve been a lot worse”

“It could have been a lot better, too!” Loki snapped. “You shouldn’t’ve put yourself in a situation like that!”

“But if I hadn’t pushed them away, those people would’ve got hurt! They wouldn’t’ve been able to get themselves free, and one of them was only a kid, an-”

“You’re only a kid! Peter, I don’t care about the other people; I care about you! You’re the one who ended up in hospital. You’re the one whose heart stopped-”

“But that was because of those antibiotics, not because I was hurt!” Peter interrupted.

“That’s not the point! The point is, you put yourself in danger, and you ended up hurt. Badly. I couldn’t stand it if I lost you”

Seeing the tears in his eyes, Peter swallowed his fight and shifted closer, careful so as not to hurt himself, and hugged Loki.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you”

“I know you didn’t. But you did worry me. You worried both of us” Loki sighed and hugged him tight, burying his face in the boys curls. “I’m just glad you’re gonna be ok. I’m so glad it wasn’t worse...”

“I’ll be back to normal in a couple of weeks. Umm, well, mostly. Ribs’ll take a bit longer. Six weeks... Aww, I won’t be able to do much, will I?”

“Maybe you’d better take up reading. Or start a boxset. Play with your toys. Just nothing too active. Hey, what’s with the face? It’s not like you’re gonna be bed-bound or stuck in a wheelchair for the next six weeks. You'll just have to lay off the rough play for a little while”

Peter sighed. He flopped against Loki, and sucked his breath in pain, quickly jerking away.

“Peter? What’s the matter, sweetheart? Is it your ribs?”

Peter nodded, clutching himself. “And those big cuts on my front. I think the painkillers are wearing off”

“You can take some more if you need to. Here, let’s get you settled”

He fluffed the pillows and propped Peter back up against them. He passed him his painkillers and a glass of water.

“I don’t really want to take them” Peter said, turning the box over in his hand.

“You’re in pain, darling”

“I know. But it’s not really too bad at the moment. I don’t feel like loading up on pills is such a good thing”

“You don’t have to put on a brave face. You were prescribed these for a reason. But if you don’t want to take them, I won’t make you” Loki took the box and glass and set them back on the bedside table. “If you feel you need them, they’re there. You know the dose”

“Thanks, dad”

“What for?”

“For listening to me”

Loki nodded. He tucked Peter’s seal and Peter Rabbit under the boys arms, and pulled the quilt up to his neck.

“Shout if you need anything. You know I’m just next door”

“Yes, dad. Goodnight, dad”

“Goodnight, darling”

#my writing #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #frostiron #irondad and spiderson

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goldenscript · 6 years

Text

requite

pairing: kim taehyung | reader genre: first date au / fluff word count: 4,465 description: To be clear, this is not an unrequited love. It is the gradual fall in which two best friends find themselves on a journey, navigating the waters of uncertainty on their very first, official date. author’s note: I dedicate this to my dearest @jungnoir -- happy holidays, my dear. Thank you for being a lovely human, and more importantly, for being my friend. You make everything just a little more bearable <3

It all begins when Taehyung decides to change everything.

He’s always been the proactive one between the two of you. The go-getter. The trendsetter. From starting the whole bandana epidemic in high school to fighting for a slot in the top fifteen percentile in high school and still aiming for it in college. He dreams big and loudly. His voice, an unabashed timber, steady as ever even in the face of adversity. It’s in this same voice that has almost always supported you and your endeavors, when your fears are taking hold and barring you from your own dreams like a dragon in front of the treasure, he imbues you with strength and gives you that push to defeat the doubts and take that leap of faith. And in many ways, being the basis of your strength has given you the drive to provide the stability that he needs. Where he is the sun shining optimism in his wake, you are the moon bringing things back into perspective.

Between the two of you, it has always been like the push and pull of the waters. Ebb and flow. A back and forth collaboration that can make not only wonderful outcomes but disastrous ones as well. Sometimes you just can’t keep up with him. The way he goes about life so quickly and so passionately. And yet between all his efforts to give himself a good life, he has never once forgotten about you and the help you’ve lended him. All the times you’ve imbued him with strength is everything that keeps him going, and he’s more than grateful for the time and effort you’ve both spent in late night studying sessions, phone calls when sleep eludes you both like a phantom confronted with reality, and every night since the end of high school, you’ve plagued his mind like a six-second video, only this time it doesn’t just play through your childhood. These videos show him the way the light hits you just right even with sleep threatening your half-lidded eyes, how the corners of your lips will curl even when he’s not doing anything at all, even how you feel from the moments he’ll wrap a lean arm around your shoulders, you’ll lean into him and the whiff of freesias and vanilla meet his senses, pressed so deep into his mind that you are the only thing that his mind will conjure up when faced with those two scents.

The beating of his heart augments fervently at your voice, the way his name falls off your lips far too beautiful for him to think clearly, and it takes everything in him not to come right out with the words that are constantly playing in his head when he sees you—I love you I love you God I love you so much—before you bring him back to reality with a small wave of your hand to remind him that your movie’s about to start. And all he can do is muster up a nod, gulping down the words caught in his throat as you lead him toward the third theater on your left with a huge bucket of popcorn in your other hand and that damn loose strand of hair that he’s always felt so inclined to tuck back behind your ear.

He can barely think as you both sit through Spiderman: Homecoming despite how badly he’s wanted to see it for the past few weeks, probably even longer since he heard about its upcoming release months beforehand, because all he can think about is how close you are and how much he wants to bare his heart to you as he always has. Although love or loving anyone has ever really passed his lips aside from his family, his other friends, and you, this is different. It’s a new caliber, a new level to this relationship that has taken more and more steps toward the platonic exit.

The beginning of his resolution came after a day of separation when his flight back home after your first year of finals is prolonged by a mishap that had him leaving almost too late to celebrate Christmas with you and the rest of your families. If only the news reports hadn’t been fuelling your anxieties for the welfare of your one and only best friend. But what came out of his worries for you and that sleepless night was his heart’s conclusion that he wanted to ease your anxieties over losing him. Because he knows you’ve equated the loss of him to losing your other half, a part of yourself that you don’t think anyone else could really replace, because he knew you like he knew the back of his hand, he felt what you felt when you were happy, sad, tired, and hungry, sometimes sharing them with you before pulling you out of your mood in the only way that he can. That following day, after the fog of the possible calamities could ensue, you clung to him with everything you could when you saw him. It eased his mind to see you, but the tumultuous rumbling in his chest made him reconsider the way he saw you, and with every passing day, every moment shared together, he has felt something bloom in him and flourished to its grandeur now.

The soft tufts of dark brunet locks that always falls into his eyes no matter what and still he can meet your eyes with the same soft chocolate-like effect, sweet and plush without an ounce of regret. His smile, toothy and all, always present even when you’re both fatigued with sleep and even now as you’re both readjusting to the shift in lighting of the theater. You know something’s up when he can’t even gush about the movie like you expected him to. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth and he can’t seem to stop fiddling with one of the three earrings dotting his earlobe. He’s handsome as ever even when nervous, and all you can think to do is ask him what’s going on in that broad and beautiful mind of his, always clouded with ideas far-fetched and thoughts abstract but witty and intelligent in ways that only a select few (read: you) can understand.

It is right then in this very moment where you two lock eyes and the rest of time slows down. His hand catches that loose tendril and finally tucks behind your ear, but instead of retracting away, it lingers a little longer on the side of your face. His heart is beating so hard in his chest, he’s almost afraid that it might fall out if he doesn’t pull back. But this is you. And you are the best thing that has ever happened to him, the most loving person, and the one that completes him without swallowing him whole.

That’s why he softly asks you, “Can I?”

And that’s why he does when you give a nod.

“Will you go out with me?”

Your mouth falls open, lips still tingling from the feeling of his chapped lips pressed against yours and reminding you that this actually happened. His cologne is muddled all over you and still fresh even with the two-feet distance, but it’s still a scent that rekindles familiarity in this sudden situation.

“W-What?” You blink, trying to register the moment for what it is, but the longer you try to wrap your head around this fact makes it still just as startling as it was when you felt his lips. “Are you serious?”

He laughs, placing his hands on your shoulders and nodding. “Of course I’m serious. I—I…” He runs a hand through his hair, though the stray locks do nothing to stay in place. But the sigh he releases is resounding and as exhilarated as he looked right then seems to fade back into the nerve-wracked boy you haven’t seen since elementary school. The same one who was too shy to even ask for a ball from the playground equipment monitor, so you stepped in to give him a hand, and inadvertently solidifying your friendship into what it is now. “I lo—I like you. A lot.”

You don’t even stop to think when you respond, heart still hammering because you’re not completely sure that you’ve heard him correctly. But you want to know. You need to know. “Were you going to say love?”

His mouth opens, falling close before he can get a word out as blood crawls up his cheekbones like vines. It’s suddenly much harder to be that shameless boy without a filter when he’s standing in front of the love of his life.

“I—uh—I…”

“You were… weren’t you?” You ask, feeling his hand slip away. The fading of warmth waking your own reflexes as you keep his hand in yours. It’s foreign now that you’ve both kissed and even more so as he seems to be baring his heart to you, but you can’t bear the loss of his comfort. “Taehyung. You love me?”

He’s willing the floor to swallow him whole. He wants the concrete to suddenly cave in beneath only his feet and close back up so he won’t face the rejection. He can’t bear it. And yet, when he nods, rejection does not come.

You give his hand a squeeze, feeling your heart flutter as you say, “Well, I’m glad this is mutual then.” You release an airy laugh, finding his beautiful eyes meeting yours like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Are you serious?”

Your brows screw together, almost offended that he’d even question you, of all people, who seldom throws the L-word around without necessary prompting. But then you see the way he lights up. His eyes flicker with relief, excitement, and adoration. The very familiarity of your reaction is probably everything he was hoping for, and the corner of your lip quirks involuntarily.

“Would I lie to you?” He shakes his head, letting out a shaky breath. “Then, I don’t have to repeat myself.”

He laughs, seeing your own cheeks flare up in a dance of rouge after a puff of smoke pushes through your lips. The cold is settling in beneath the canopy of the well-used movie theater. The warm undertones of light highlighting the scene without so much as a flicker, though it does nothing to maintain the warmth you’ve both built in your close proximities.

“So, w-will you then?” He asks, still hopeful and adorable as always.

You nod, smiling completely.

“Yes, Tae. I’ll go out with you.”

He picks you up on a Friday night. Six o’clock.

He’s nervous. You’re nervous. It’s the first official date. Not that it means the downfall of the relationship if it falls down the drain or anything, but you’re both met with anxieties and fears all over because this isn’t just anybody. It’s your best friend. But these are waters that have been teetering toward the edge of the sand dunes for as long as freshman year. Two years of falling in and out of almost-date’s and maybe-next-time’s, and the time is finally here. Of course, neither of you want to fuck to this up.

You’re dressed in a simple attire, more functionality for the biting cold than baring any skin anyway, but he thinks you look adorable bundled in the charcoal puffer jacket and slate grey turtleneck. While he dons something in similarity just because he’s always adored his own puffer and the way a heather grey sweater looks together. It’s kind of cute when it strikes him that you’ve both even chucked on your black Chucks. They’re not as scuffed as previous pairs, but it made you smile when you both exchanged these as Christmas gifts not too long ago and that’s been pressed so deep into his memory that seeing the matching pair bemuses him.

“Copying me?” He asks as you locks the door behind you. His brow quirked upward and a wide tight-lipped grin now spreading across his visage.

You scrunch your nose at the realization, immediately scoffing at him, “I’d say you copied me.”

He flashes a lopsided grin at you. “Ooh, defensive. I always knew you admired my fashion choices.”

“Please,” you say, walking side by side with him. Tonight’s venue is a venture into the city—it’s familiar and, well, comfortable. It’s perfect for the excursion and you most certainly don’t mind this mode of transportation. “Your taste is far too expensive for me, Tae.”

He pouts a little, “Hey, there’s a price to pay when you want to look good.”

“You always look good.” You admit in passing, “You could’ve worn a sweatsuit made of paper bags and I think you’d still amazing.”

“Really?” He turns to look at you with his brows raised.

“Really,” you laugh as your cheeks burning once more under his honey-like gaze. Like dropping the L-word, compliments are a rare occasion for you but tonight just felt right. “I don’t think you needed me to tell you that though.”

“It means more coming from you.” He glances down at your fiddling hands with uncertainty. He doesn’t know if you want to hold hands again or if he’s supposed to grab it, especially considering how easily you might slip through his fingertips if he is too abrupt. The fate of tonight feels so odd to him. Like he’s standing on wires with only his fingers crossed that he doesn’t dip down too low and ruin everything.

Your gaze flickers from his face and trails down to see what has his attention. Your heart thrums at the thought. Although holding his hand should be normal like it was last night, you know how vastly different it is now. This is the start of something new. An era that’s about to begin and open doors to a plane of hand-holding, kissing, and the companionship of not only a best friend but a significant other too.

He wants to hold hands, doesn’t he? Looking at him, you want to ask, Don’t you?

Instead you unhook your fingers from one another, slowly but surely allowing your left one to reside in the space between you and him. Despite the fears in the back of your mind telling you that venturing this far deep into uncharted territory could completely wreck a perfectly good relationship, you want to make this leap of faith—not only for him, but for yourself—because this is the very scenario you’ve had play over in your head during those nights where sleep eludes you and he’s the only thing that can seem to halt the anxieties with faint memories of childhood, adolescence, even last week when he made Hoseok shoot chocolate milk out of his nose.

You softly ask, “Really?”

“Really,” he says, punctuating his statement with a small nod. Looking back to you and raising a brow, he practically asks, Can I? Will you let me?

When his hand resides beside yours and it looks like his heart feels like it might fall out of his chest, he sees you give a small nod from the corner of his eye and even a smile curl on the corners of your lips.

His fingertips can practically feel the warmth you radiate, eliciting equal bouts of fluttering hearts and oh my god’s. He’s just about to close the distance and finally commemorate this moment in your newfound relationship, but before he can there’s a sudden rush and a slithering hiss of air signalling the arrival of the bus.

Instead of entwined fingers, you both dig for your IDs and show the bemused driver who doesn’t even pretend he didn’t see either of your pink cheeks and disappointed looks.

The bus flies past the restaurants of names neither of you can pronounce nor have you ever dreamt of going to. They’re beautiful in their own right. Filled to the brim with well-dressed people bustling in and out of the vicinity, many of which appear to be enjoying themselves in those milliseconds you get a gander of them. But that momentary happiness pales in comparison to the happiness that crosses your visage at the familiarity of warmth and pastel that takes place at the spot.

The bluish tint from the ceiling lights manages to give you an ethereal look. A sight to behold that makes him stop, practically frozen in time when you turn toward him and lean in close to pull for the stop. He wants to fumble through an apology but you flash him a smile and don’t even question his sudden pause. The two of you step out, feeling the sudden rush of nipping at your cheeks that gets minimally shielded with Taehyung’s shoulder in the way. And the next few moments seem to pass in seconds as he walks down the darkened steps with you right behind, toward the hidden away boba shop, until you’re both seated in front of one another with drinks of stark contrast to each of your likings.

Conversation passes easy as ever in that quaint shop, leaving nothing to chance as memories seem to pour out from the two of you. The time you and your shared group of friends ventured over here during Jimin’s shift, demanding for outrageous orders just to make the poor boy sweat. It was awful (for him mostly and for everyone else the next day), but at the same time, the cherub-faced boy has more dirt on you, Taehyung, Taeyong, and Siyeon than any of you like to admit which brings back more fond memories of that year. Nowadays if any of you come in during another (rare) drunken excursion, it’s met with ease and a crooked smile because that damn boy doesn’t forget anything. Then there are the other times where coming there were nothing but an excuse to forget about finals and midterms, debating on whether the college life was for either of you, and asking each other what they saw their future selves doing in all detail if anyone had it figured out that far ahead.

In a way, this feels like one of those days where you two come in with no plan at all. Just a just because. Not a this, this, and that. And that’s what he loves the most. He doesn’t have to think far ahead with you or worry about what comes next, because you can complete the equation with a simple answer. A grin curves on your lips while the light in your eyes shines brighter than the stars you’ve both admired for as long as either of you can remember, and suddenly, it’s another adventure, another memory. And when you two finish your drinks and the plethora of detours across memory lane, you both walk out together with the scarlet fluorescent lights shining “Arcade” in block letters beckoning you forth with the call of something new in this old-time relationship.

You turn to him at the entrance after halving the cost for tokens, “I’m not going on easy on you, y’know.”

He quirks a brow at you, almost tempted to pout at you despite knowing how fruitless that would be, “I wouldn’t be so sure of that. I’m a pro.” He opts for his boxy grin. You’re too adorable when you get competitive. “Didn’t I show you how to play half these games anyway?”

You scoff, pausing at Terminator 2: Judgement Day, “And wasn’t I the one to tell you that Terminator’s a movie and not just a videogame, you nerd?”

“Hey,” he pouts. “It’s not that I didn’t know… I just found out late.”

“So… you didn’t know.” You laugh, shoving four tokens in and smashing the start button. “It’s okay. We learn new things everyday. You just happened to learn about a classic flick a little too late into your late teen’s.”

He responds by taking a good three shots at the T-1000. Not a single miss. Not that the bastard goes down immediately. He remembers how irritating it was when he first played, going down to the arcade everyday just to get a better understanding.

“Please tell me you haven’t forgotten the movies.” He hasn’t. Gaze flickering over to your screen as you empty out your magazine within moments. Of course, they deflect off the T-1000.

“Of course not,” he replies indignantly. “I wouldn’t mind doing it again, though.”

“Yeah?” He sees you smile, your eyes narrowing at the screen as you shoot other cyborgs.

He nods, grinning broadly as he manages a decent hit, “Yeah.”

“It’s a date then.”

Of course, it doesn’t end there. Not with you two.

Despite the significant loss at T2, you assure him that you’re winning at the next game. You do equate his win to the fact that he’s been playing much longer than you, probably more than a normal boy should, and of course, he agrees. He spent an entire month going there to learn the machine and the story behind the game, so he guides you to the viridescent neon table with two paddles.

“Well, I guess we don’t have to count that one against you,” he says, shoving in the necessary six tokens to relinquish the puck.

When it deposits out from your end, you frown a little at him. “Don’t reject your win for my sake. You did a decent job.” You mutter under your breath, “Even if you didn’t know those were based on an actual movie.”

“Hey!” He pouts, deflecting your offensive play with a simple flick of his wrist. “Lay off, Miss Movie Buff.”

“Never.” You grin, going in on the offensive again. It’s your favorite tactic, and although it seems predictable to just about anyone who plays against you, you still manage to surprise even him after scoring a good three consecutive points without letting him get a word in.

After getting you both to an equal four, a mere point away from deeming one of you the winner, he says, “All the more movies to watch together, right?” He laughs breathily, “Since you did say there’s still plenty I need to watch.”

You nod. “Who would I be if I didn’t educate you now that we’re dating?”

“It didn’t stop you as my best friend,” he points out, aiming for the blind spot by your wrist. He doesn’t linger too long as he gives a particularly powerful hit to the puck without thinking too much about it.

“Well, it’s different now—ow—!” Much to his displeasure (and obviously yours), the puck’s destination is your hand and not the goal. And from the velocity of the white blur, his fear of hurting you has come true, immediately drawing him to your side to the assaulted area.

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath, his fingers already trying to soothe away the pain with simple, concentric circles. “Are you okay?”

Of course, you stiffen at the sudden attention. It’s not completely common for him to check on you when an incident like this takes place, but when he meets your lit-up eyes and the bemused grin on your lips, he can’t help but feel like he’s overreacted.

“You’re fine aren’t you?”

You nod, teasing, “Who knew you could be such a worry wart?”

He pouts, “Of course. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know you won’t,” you immediately try to reassure him. He feels it too. The trust you have in him, and that alone soothes his own doubts. “Anyway, this is nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“You could kiss it better if that’ll ease your worrisome heart.”

He knows you’re joking from your smile, but he can’t help himself.

“It will.”

So he does it.

It’s only ten when your time at the arcade comes to an end with wins for the both of you, which was soon followed by a succession of celebratory pizza at the small food court inside the well-worn gaming area, and now the prospect of a stroll around the city streets you’ve both grown so accustomed to thrown into the air. It’s become second nature to hit all the familiar corners just to see the aesthetics and the new places that have started to pop up in the past year and a half.

The change from the first time you two ventured these places together to now has been astronomical, a necessary growth that has led you both to look back on your former selves with fondness and amusement. You remember having so many questions and seldom answers to them, with dreams so far and wide that’ve finally shaped and formed themselves in a tangible way. You knew going into this new world would be hard. Probably the hardest and it’s meant to get harder, even more so with another investment alongside school in tow, but when you look at Taehyung, there’s love in your heart.

The feeling squeezes you and envelops you, and although entertaining the thought that you might love him that first year led you toward this moment felt like a mistake at times, you can’t help but say you won't regret choosing it. Not that morning when you squeezed him so tight to your heart just to stop the rumbling and most certainly not right now as you shrug on your jacket and wait for him to do the same so you can both take the scenic route to the bus stop before you return to your place to watch a movie or two.

Without a second thought, your heart stutters right as he reaches past you to push open the door. “Ready?”

The biting cold already nipping past Taehyung and the protection of his broad shoulders to your exposed cheeks, earning a mixture of a whine and an affirmation in response.

“As I’ll ever be.”

There’s a prospect of warmth and familiarity being by his side, with the world around you seemingly fading as you two lose yourself in your own innermost thoughts together as it always does. The deep timber of his chuckle travels alongside the sharp gusts on the crowded streets, but your attention falls away from the sound and the feeling of others around you two, and rather onto the sight of his hand as you walk beside him.

You lock eyes with him, rejoicing in the deep hickory and practically asking, Will you? Or should I? before ultimately settling on Why the fuck not?

He smiles broadly at the tap from your hand before glancing down at the way you’ve extended it to his so subtly. The distance is only a hairsbreadth away, and all you want to do is close it once and for all, to finally feel what you’ve dreamt about time and time again. And thankfully, he does.

Though the feeling of his hand entwined in yours is new, you welcome its comfort.

#sfwbangtan #btswriters #bts writing squad #bangtan bookclub #btssunshinenet #ot7network #taehyung scenarios #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung scenario #taehyung fluff #taehyung au #bts au #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fluff #taehyung x reader #emswriting

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floweryfandomnerd · 6 years

Text

@thelazyfanartist Hey I finally got this done and I’m very happy with it despite it being a procrastination method from revision man am I gonna fail my exams at this rate.

Anyway here is the fourth drabble in the schoolboy!arslan au that you requested. I say drabble it’s 4k+ long... I hope you enjoy

Chapter Four

The room that Elam stands in the doorway to is a mess with old toys strewn about the wooden floor in almost a circle from the centre, he sighs at the thought of cleaning it up.

“Hey Elam, did you bring your old toys to go through for the beneficence day?” Arslan asks him, springing up from what could be described as the eye of the storm, if the storm were one of dolls and stuffed animals.

He lifts up the canvas bag in his right hand to show him, Arslan eyes the graphic print on it for a moment then holds out his hand expectantly. Elam loops the handles around Arslan’s wrist, he tugs the bag open and peers inside, wide grin forming on his face as he pulls out a spiderman action figure, “Cool! You have my favourite hero!”

Elam steps closer to him, digging around in the bag himself, he produces a Hawkeye figure and holds it up to eye level, “Yeah, but Hawkeye’s my favourite because he's skilled with a bow and that's pretty awesome. Even more awesome is that in the original comics he's deaf, that's pretty inspiring for disabled kids, y’know?” Elam tells him.

And even though his voice lacks the same obvious excitement as his, Arslan has long since learnt to read him by the way the corners of his eyes crinkle as he talks about it, by the way that he stands just a little bit straighter and holds the figure to his chest. Arslan smiles softly, he's more than fond of seeing his friend so happy.

“Yeah! It's great because it shows that even with a disability you can be anything - even a superhero!” Arslan agrees, enthusiastically nodding his head, “Hawkeye is Daryun’s third favourite, besides Thor and Captain America.”

‘Yeah, they're kinda cool too.” Elam glances back down at the figure sadly, he doesn't really want to give it away.

“He says Spiderman is lame though, says it's because he reminds him of a teenage Narsus, except Narsus didn't have a six pack and liked art too.” Arslan gently takes the figure out of Elam’s hand as he laughs, (he takes pride in drawing that laugh out of his friend, he's glad that he doesn't always feel the need to be so serious around him anymore.) Arslan sets the two action figures down carefully on his bed, kept apart from all of the unsorted toys, “Anyway, we can't get rid of these.”

“Wow. Was Narsus that much of a nerd?” Elam asks, still in stitches and clutching his arms around his sides.

“What do you mean was? He still is!” Arslan jokes, mumbling an afterthought, “Though he's more of an art nerd than a science nerd now, I guess.”

Elam carefully steps around the toys to sit in the middle of them, he drags Arslan with him by the sleeve. Picking up the nearest stuffed animal in front of him, Elam inspects it for any rips in the stitching or missing eyes. When he finds nothing wrong with it he holds it up to Arslan. Silently answering the question, Arslan nods his head to say that it can be donated; Elam sets the toy aside in a basket labelled “donations.”

They get into a rhythm of deciding whether the toys can stay or go, picking them up, checking them over for injury and then questioning whether they can be kept or not. Most of the toys wind up in the basket, too many for them to be of any emotional value. Occasionally though, Arslan shakes his head and tenderly takes the toy from Elam’s hand, placing them on the bed. It builds up an eclectic collection of old, tattered toys that he stares at fondly.

They’re special to him, each and every one, he doesn't want to get rid of them. Knowing they're safe, he quietly returns to helping Elam sort the rest of the toys, neither of them break the silence, though Elam wants to ask what makes each one so important. After all, every toy has a story to it when it means something.

Breaking the silence between them by means of a creaking door, Alfarid strides in, calling out, “Guys, I’m here!”

Taking another step into the room, Alfarid stands on one of the still unsorted toys, slipping and crashing into the basket. A few toys go flying out, one of them hitting Elam on the head; Alfarid sits slightly dazed in the basket, limbs splayed everywhere and giggles sheepishly, “So um, what were you guys doing?”

Elam scowls at her, rubbing the impact spot, “We were enjoying ourselves but I guess that’s over now.”

Long used to his sass, Alfarid simply sticks her tongue out at him. Despite Elam’s sourness towards her, Arslan laughs at her. She laughs along too, guessing herself just how ridiculous she must look. The three blink at an unexpected flash and the sound of a camera shutter, Etoile stands in the doorway, polaroid camera in hand and held up in front of her face. Lowering it, she tugs the photograph printing in the bottom out and fans it around. The photograph develops, ink drying and the image forming in blotches.

She looks at it and grins, chuckling just slightly, then she holds it out for the others to see. They smile and Alfarid takes the photo in her own hand.

“This one’s a keeper!” she beams. “It’s definitely going in my memory box.”

Etoile points to the window where opened light blue and white curtains let the sunlight filter in through the glass, “Yeah, the lighting in here made sure it came out great. But that should be going in my memory box, I took the picture.”

Pouting, she holds it out for the other girl, but Elam quickly snatches it away and squints at it. He cracks a smile and shoves it into Arslan's face.

“It’s cute, we look cute in this photo don't we Denka?” he pauses, considering thoughtfully for a moment, then adds, “Alfarid doesn't.”

She gasps in outrage, insulted and ready to fire expletives back at him, Etoile speaks over the top of her, vexed, “Wait, why did you call him ‘Denka’?”

Alfarid resorts to crossing her eyes and arms and sticking her tongue out at Elam in a huff, he pays her no mind and gestures towards the bed in the corner of the room, “Because he has a king sized bed, in like every room, but we're still kids, so Denka.”

She glances to Arslan, ‘Denka’, questioningly but to her surprise he doesn't seem to mind the nickname. She turns her head away rapidly when she realises that she's caught his eye with her own. He jumps up, excitedly putting a hand on her shoulder.

“You should take another one,” he tells her, voice as warm as a sunny day, “but this time you should get in too!”

She nods, still a little surprised, then finds her voice to reply, “Of course, it wouldn't be the perfect photo if I weren't in it.”

He laughs happily and bounces off to the pile of toys on the bed.

“Before you take it,” he says, waving Alfarid over to his side, “we need to organise the toys on here for the background.”

They align them against the wall, organising them by size with the largest teddy bears at the back and action figures sitting in the front. Arslan grabs Elam’s arm and drags him over to sit in front of the bed with him and Alfarid. Etoile sets a fifteen second timer and places the camera on the bed side table, seating herself next to Arslan. Seconds later the camera flashes and she fights the urge to blink. She’d set it to go off three times, one photo for each of them.

The polaroid deposits the photographs in front of it, she idly goes through them, pausing and deciding which she likes best, Alfarid making the peace sign whilst Elam glares at her, Arslan and herself making silly faces; maybe the one when all four of them are smiling and Elam and Alfarid have given up their bickering. She decides on the one where, for some strange reason, Arslan's smile is directed at her instead of the camera. She pockets that one carefully and leaves the other three open to the others’ choice.

Turning to Elam, she picks up a stuffed horse off of the wooden floor, dangling it in the air by the tail. She scrutinises the toy, swinging it from side to side, “So Elam, why all the toys? We helping a tragic case of hoarding or? I mean, if so I guess it's a productive use of a Thursday afternoon… ”

Elam laughs, “No, our school is having a beneficence day so we're going through all of Arslan's old stuff to sell some and raise money.”

“You can donate that horse by the way,” Arslan chimes in.

Etoile nods, dumping it amongst the other sacrificed toys. “What about this ratty old bear? Are you sure you want to keep it?” she asks just a little brashly. Its fur is worn and discoloured, one of the eyes is missing and some of the stitching is coming away, letting the stuffing spill out in small patches. They couldn't even donate it if they had wanted to.

Still, Arslan nods almost shyly, softly replying, “Yes… I want to keep it.”

She carefully passes it to him, gazing thoughtfully in his direction, head cocked slightly to the side, “That’s important to you, isn’t it?” she says slowly.

“Yes, it’s the only thing I have left of my birth parents. They gave it to me when I was five.”

Alfarid’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “Your birth parents?”

Smiling almost sadly at her, Arslan sighs quietly, ‘Yeah, they died in a car accident when I was eight.” He brightens up then - Etoile can't help but think the expression reads as fake - adding, “I'm okay with donating almost anything, just not this, okay?”

Elam silently pats his arm, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, Arslan briefly taps Elam's hand with his own in acknowledgement.

Clapping a hand gently on his shoulder, Etoile reassures him, “Well that's fine, isn't it? You don't have to give up everything of yourself to make a difference to others.” She grins broadly at him then, firmly stating, “Giving to charity is a good thing Arslan, you just need to make sure you keep something for yourself too.”

When he beams at her in response, agreeing resolutely, she thinks she might just have to change her opinion of him as a spoiled rich boy. “Why don't I take that and fix it for you?” she asks, pointing at the stuffing spilling out like Winnie the Pooh’s, “I know how to sew.”

This time it's Elam's turn to be surprised, “Really?” he enquires almost incredulously.

“Yup.”

“Do you think you could teach me then? I'm no good at it past stitching up holes.” Elam points to the dark brown fabric patches on the elbows of his deep green jumper as if they were evidence of his lack of skills.

Etoile laughs then, quickly obliging herself, “Yeah, I think that would be fun. I could even teach you how to make clothes, if you want me to,” she says, closely scrutinising his work and mumbling, “though I think you're plenty good already.”

She doesn't notice the camera go off again, snapping a shot of her intensely staring at Elam's elbow whilst he looks to be concentrating equally as hard. Giggles escape Alfarid, betraying her mischief as she shows off the picture to Arslan who giggles along with her.

Cutting off the giggling, she turns to Arslan again, “Well do you?” she almost demands the answer of him, “I promise no harm will come to it whilst in my care. Just good old stuffing surgery.”

Easily agreeing, he hands the toy over to her, “Yes, I trust you'll do a great job.”

Daryun interrupts them, knocking loudly and pushing open the door to the room. “Dinner's ready kids. Come down and eat.”

“You didn't cook it now, did you?” Elam worries at him, Daryun isn't someone he would trust to make food. Responsible, usually, but he's just as much of a disaster in the kitchen as Narsus is, if his attempt at a cake is anything to go by.

Daryun's expression morphs into one of offense, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, and his mouth set in an annoyed line, “Yes I did, I don't really think there's anywhere to go wrong with spaghetti bolognaise, Elam.”

Holding his glare a moment, Elam eventually relents, accepting that Daryun perhaps might not be as useless a cook as he is a baker. Though he does question why Daryun decided to make it himself, if he remembers correctly, Elam believes that Arslan's household employed a cook already, and that it certainly wasn't Daryun.

Daryun smiles in response, “Okay then, I'll drop you lot off at home after you've finished dinner then.”.

Etoile takes the bear home with her.

After her Tuesday afternoon shift in the shop, Etoile wanders around the town centre a little bit, gazing in shop windows without entering, pressing her hands against the glass when she takes interest in something and peering in curiously only to pull herself away a moment later. Eventually she arrives in front of the store she actually intends to enter and pushes open the door. It's a small shop with little room and fewer regular customers, but the products are good quality and inexpensive, so it's her chosen place to shop.

They have pretty fabrics hung on spools all across the far wall, Etoile likes looking at them, running her fingers across each one as she tries to decide which one she needs to buy. Pausing, she takes the bear from the plain brown satchel at her hip and studies it, tapping a finger against her lips in thought. A patchwork job would probably last longer, she thinks, than just sewing up the bear. As long as she finds the right fabric and colour.

This one, she thinks, feeling a soft and velvet-like deep brown fabric. She buys half a meter, some brown thread and a button that matches the eye of the bear. She pays for the items and is almost out of the door before she remembers that some stuffing might be useful. Purchasing the stuffing, she leaves and makes her way home.

Her apartment is empty when she arrives, Barcacion - the great uncle that she lives with and is rather fond of - isn't home, leaving Etoile to quietly sit in the arm chair by the window as she repairs the bear. It doesn't take long to fix, but as her needle dips in and out of the fabric, sewing the toy's wound shut, Etoile considers why Arslan, with all his money, didn't just pay for the bear to be sewn back up. At first she can't think of any real reason, eventually however, she thinks that maybe it was because he was scared it would be changed beyond recognition and he wouldn't have anything left of the people who formed his early life. After that, she's careful to make sure the bear remains recognisable.

Her chance to return the bear doesn't come until the Beneficence Day three days later. She wanders through the gate idly, taking her time to enjoy the afternoon sun that spills over the buildings around her, casting shadows and golden rays alike. The school grounds are unusually busy, but that's hardly surprising given the day's event, still, the crowd is so thick that she struggles to see where she can find Arslan, Elam or Alfarid. What gives it away is the circle of young children and their parents circling around one particular covered table, she figures that nothing other than a ridiculous amount of toys would draw that kind of attention and starts weaving her way through the throng of people to get there.

When Arslan catches sight of her amongst the crowd he beams at her brightly and waves to her to catch her attention, she smiles gently and holds up the bear, moving one of its arms from side to side to wave back at him. He laughs cutely, clutching his sides with one arm, Etoile quite likes the look of his laughing face. Quietly, and to herself, Etoile giggles along with him, holding one hand up to her mouth to hide it. Upon arrival in Arslan's little covered stall she deposits the bear in the front pocket of his apron, situating it with its arms hanging out over the top as Arslan's face begins to flame whenever her hands accidentally brush at his chest. She steps back, peers at him critically and smiles, satisfied with how it looks.

“Now you look like a toy maker, one who likes giving gifts to little children.” She tells him, patting his shoulder momentarily.

“That doesn't sound like such a bad job, actually.” He says thoughtfully, turning from her and serving a bright eyed little girl who eagerly buys the cutest stuffed rabbit Etoile has ever seen. Arslan holds a finger to his lips and leans down to whisper conspiratorially to her, “I'll tell you a secret about that rabbit, but you have to promise to take good care of her.”

The little girl nods her head, wearing a serious expression and crossing her heart, “I promise!” She says gravely in a hushed whisper.

Arslan looks pensively at her for a moment, “Okay,” he tells the girl, “That rabbit is the princess of the rabbit kingdom, but no one can know or the foxes will find her and plunge the kingdom into turmoil.”

She gasps and glances astonished down at the bunny in her arms.

“So you need to protect her, you see, brave lady knight, I wish you good luck.”

“Thank you, I'll look after her well.” The little girl declares, leaving and going back to her mother.

Etoile watches fondly and just slightly awed, she never realised just how good Arslan was with children, she doesn't quite know what to say, it reminds her of a game she used to play as a child. “That was adorable,” slips past her lips as he turns back to face her.

“I used to play a similar game when I was a kid, my bear used to be the prince of a fallen kingdom,” Arslan tells her wistfully, “Sometimes - as often as I could, actually - I used to get Daryun to play it with me, he was always this brave warrior, see.”

Etoile’s own memories are somewhat the same, it’s a rather nostalgic feeling, “Ah, me too, I was a valiant knight, fighting for my kingdom in the name of God, well, a made up one that I called Yaldaboath. It was fun.”

He smiles softly at her, probably imagining when she was ten years old, running around and swinging a foam sword. At least she can imagine him playing with teddy bears straight back.

“Arslan, you can switch out with me now. Go enjoy the rest of the event,” Elam says from behind her, appearing out of nowhere and startling Etoile just slightly.

Arslan nods, gently grabbing Etoile's hand and tugging her along with him, a mischievous sparkle shining in his eyes. He doesn't say much, concentrating on navigating through the crowd of people, stopping at a table with a crudely set up game of ring toss that offers prizes in the form of toys, money and cupcakes.

“Do you want to play?” Arslan asks her, pulling his hand away and reaching in his pocket for change to pay with.

Ignoring the emptiness of her hand, Etoile agrees, reaching for the rings, “Sure, but pay for two games I want to know who's better at this game.” She says, challenging him to test his aim.

He has fairly good aim, actually, which shouldn't surprise Etoile given his school has beaten hers at mixed baseball before. His first two throws go well, the rings hang on the necks of the bottles but he overshoots the last one just slightly and misses. He shrugs somewhat disappointedly, staring longingly at a giant chocolate cupcake offered as a prize. “Guess I'm not getting that cake then,” he says and Etoile swears she can hear genuine sadness in his voice.

Grabbing the second set of three rings, Etoile aims carefully, flinging them with just the right amount of force that they land on the bottlenecks, spinning noisily around them like a hula hoop. She doesn't even have to say what prize she wants, the bored student hands over the chocolate cupcake immediately. Etoile shoves it towards Arslan, offering it to him.

“You look hungry, so take it.” She half commands him.

Instead of eating it all himself, Arslan splits it in half and gives the bigger piece back to her, “Thanks,” he tells her with an impish grin.

There's not really much else to do at the beneficence day, having come so late and working on the teddy bear stall, they've missed all the events like races and talent shows. Etoile quickly finds herself growing bored despite her company and the different little games they play - actually, the one with the water guns is fun since she gets to soak him and he gapes at her in open shock - though she holds it in and doesn't say anything, at least she has time to think for once.

The crowd has thinned by the time he turns to her, still damp from her earlier attacks, “There’s not really anything left to do here, is there?”

Etoile shakes her head, “Not really, I think we missed all the good stuff, unfortunately.”

Arslan hums in agreement, making a little noise and obviously thinking about something else , what exactly, Etoile isn’t sure. He holds his hand out expectantly, waiting for her to take it again, “Let’s go then, I know somewhere nice.”

Hesitantly, Etoile takes his hand, following him through the grounds and avoiding the last few stragglers there, her cheeks feel decidedly warm.

“Where are we going?” She asks as they leave the gates, heading away from the school and in the opposite direction from his house, moving farther from the town centre with every step.

“You'll see,” he tells her cryptically, staring up at the top of a grassy hill from the base of it.

A small playpark sits on the summit of the hill, surrounded by a bright coloured fence and trees dotted around behind it with swings and slides and a giant climbing frame among the things to do there. Arslan tugs her hand and starts climbing it, bringing Etoile to realise that he wanted to take her to the park. Sometimes, she thinks, he’s a little bit of a kid and a little cliché but she doesn’t mind it so much. Silently challenging Arslan to a race, Etoile removes her hand from his, sprinting up the hill ahead of him. She sees him break into a run as she glances behind her, the corners of his lips curved up into a wide smile.

Etoile wins the race, sitting in the grass and panting at the top of the hill as she waits for him to struggle his way up.

“You’re many times fitter than I am, Etoile, I don’t know how you managed to run the whole way up,” He tells her, bent over with his hands on his thighs and wheezing to catch his breath.

Etoile shrugs casually, “I cycle to school.”

Pushing herself up from the grass, Etoile waits for him to stop wheezing and takes herself to the swings; she’s always been fond of swings, something about them is relaxing and they always seem to have the amazing power of clearing her mind. Arslan sits on the one next to her, swinging quietly aside from the creaking of the chains that attach the seat to the bar and the scuffing sound of his feet when he kicks off the ground. It’s peaceful.

“You know, I always used to come to this park as a kid, you know, before I was taken to Castle Andragoras.” He says softly, breaking their comfortable silence with a mournful tone of regret, “I don’t really remember it.”

“Was it fun?” Etoile asks in an almost-whisper.

“Yes.” Arslan abruptly stops swinging, getting up and holding out his hand for her again.

She lets the swing stop naturally before she stands, though she doesn’t take his hand this time, there’s no way for her to get lost in the little play park. After a confused moment, he lets his hand drop and begins climbing the giant climbing frame that she noticed earlier.

“Come up here, Etoile, this is what I wanted to show you.” He calls down to her, already a short distance from the ground.

She obeys, scaling her way up through the organised mess of cold metal bars until she reaches just below the top, where Arslan sits on one of the bars, distractedly swinging his legs as he gazes over the city. As she sits beside him, watching the same view as him, Etoile thinks she knows why he brought her there. The sunset is beautiful, pinks, purples, oranges and reds taking over from the sunny blue bathe every tree and building in their hues. If she remembers correctly, it’s the start of magic hour, or twilight.

“It’s so pretty, I’m glad you brought me to see it,” she voices with some awe.

“Yeah, I’ve always thought so,” he whispers on an exhaled breath, glancing at her from the corner of his eye with a fond smile.

Etoile sways slightly and Arslan places his hand on hers to help her keep her balance.

“Do you remember this?” She asks quietly.

“Yes.”

If you enjoyed this please think about a reblog so that more people can read it!

@inokinako You would probably like to read, no?

#arslan senki #the heroic legend of arslan #arstoile #arslan #elam #alfarid #etoile #schoolboy!arslan au #flings this into the abyss and hides #Man I feel like I'm slow burning arslan and etoile but am I?#Pretty sure I've read much more slowburn fic than this drabble series tbh #enjoy though

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